Cap'n Howdy's Best of 2014: Captain America - The Winter Soldier

 Coming into 2014, I must admit that I wasn't very excited with Marvel's schedule. After the pretty good, but definitely "yup, we're going to do Dark Elves and crap like that" nerd-out that was Thor: The Dark World, it seemed like we were in for a year of Marvel spending testing how far a mainstream audience would follow them. Mostly by that I mean Guardians of the Galaxy, which I'll be getting to soon, but I wasn't particularly interested in Captain America: The Winter Soldier either. It had less to do with the premise - which was a pretty good arc in the comic - but more that I just didn't like Captain America: The First Avenger. I still don't, really: it's an assemblage of scenes without any clear narrative structure or, to be honest, stakes, designed to tell Steve Rogers (Chris Evans)'s origin story, introduce the Red Skull and the Tesseract, and then freeze Cap so he can be in The Avengers. It is not, however, a movie that I found to be worth watching again, and I tried.

 Accordingly, I had very little enthusiasm for The Winter Soldier, despite the presence of different directors (Joe and Anthony Russo instead of Joe Johnston) and a focus more on Cap's role in S.H.I.E.L.D.* over trying to sell the "shared universe." That is, to say, more like Iron Man 3, which everyone seems to hate but me, in part because I knew it was a Shane Black movie. Still, I didn't really have any reason to assume that the brothers Russo, veterans of Arrested Development and Community, were any better equipped to make a Captain America movie than the director of The Rocketeer. I also didn't know what kind of Captain America movie they were making - that it would be heavily influenced by 1970s paranoia thrillers, mixed with modern action films, but with slightly more coherent editing. Had I known that, I might have still been suspicious of the directors' background in comedy, but it would have assuaged any lingering concerns that The Winter Soldier would be anything like The First Avenger.

 In fact, The Winter Soldier isn't even anything like The Avengers, which worked Cap into the fold, but sometimes in uncomfortable, ham fisted ways. We're not talking Hawkeye levels of "why are you in this?", mind you, but if you look at the team dynamic, Steve Rogers has very little impact until late in the film, and even then it's mostly Iron Man's show. The Winter Soldier, despite the increased presence of Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), is mostly Steve Rogers' show. It's less a film about him adjusting to the present than putting Captain America's "good old fashioned American values" against the modern surveillance / defense landscape. More importantly, it's not necessarily clear that either side is totally right or totally wrong. Fury finds himself the target of an assassination, Cap and Black Widow end up on the run, and the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., Alexander Pierce (Robert Redford) has to make a decision about the organization's future.

 To say much more would spoil the movie, and by proxy, the end of the first season of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and on the off chance you're the one person reading this who hasn't been prepping for The Avengers: Age of Ultron, I'll let you be surprised. If there's any character who gets the short shrift in The Winter Soldier, it's the titular character, who is limited to a "Darth Maul" level of screen time for much of the film. When he's onscreen - and for SPOILER purposes, I won't identify the actor - The Winter Soldier's impact on the story is felt, but his overall arc feels more like the beginning to a larger story. That said, he's part of several crackerjack action sequences, handled with aplomb by the Russo brothers. Both are essentially chase sequences: one with Fury, and the other involving Cap, Black Widow, and the man who will become Falcon (Anthony Mackie). Aside from John Wick, they may be my favorite sustained action sequences in a film this year, and I was not expecting that from Marvel. Not only are they well choreographed, but the Nick Fury chase scene is as suspenseful as anything I've seen in a while.

 I noticed that The Winter Soldier has a slight shift in the way that Cap / Steve Rogers is portrayed: Chris Evans adds more nuance to the "good guy" type from The First Avenger and The Avengers. He's trying to fit into the world now, and not just in a way that generate anachronism laughs. The Winter Soldier is frequently funny without relying on "Rip Van Winkle" jokes - although his notebook of pop culture to catch up on is amusing in its own right. The film also bridges the first and second film by having a few returning characters, mostly presented in logical ways. It's a bit sad to see an elderly Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) suffering from Alzheimer's, even if we also meet her granddaughter (Emily VanCamp). Technically that might be a SPOILER, since the film doesn't necessarily address it yet, but instead lays the groundwork for her character as an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. in a few critical junctures of the story. The most surprising cameo has the potential to be the dumbest, as it is the equivalent of the "Bond villain explains his plan" moment in the film, but the audacity behind it makes the scene work. In fact, it's hard to think of a moment that doesn't work in the film, other than maybe the Big Dumb Climax.

 Like Guardians of the Galaxy, and Thor: The Dark World, and Iron Man 3, and The Avengers, and I would argue, even The First Avenger, The Winter Soldier ends with Cap and Falcon trying to bring down three flying weapons of mass destruction before they, well, destroy everything. How you feel about this apparent strategy to end every Marvel film the same way is going to depend on your mileage for this overused finale. It's not any better or worse than the others, and its impact will be felt on the larger Marvel universe in movies we haven't gotten to yet (Ant-Man, how do you feel about the collapse of, uh, SPOILER nevermind). It does seem silly to use this as the backdrop for a moment between Captain America and The Winter Soldier, as the film does end on a series of quieter moments, but maybe the blockbuster comic book movie demands it. I mean, Days of Future Past isn't a lot different, what with its "dropping a stadium around The White House", and while I didn't see The Amazing Spider-Man 2, I sure heard about its Big Dumb Ending.

 Anyway, I was quite mistaken in thinking I wouldn't like Captain America: The Winter Soldier. It's a thriller disguised as a comic book movie, one that's clever and works hard to stay ahead of its audience for as long as possible. A background in comedies, particularly comedies like Arrested Development and Community gives the Russo brothers the skill to convey information quickly without dumbing it down. Instead, they can rely on audiences to pick up hints and foreshadow events without spelling it out again. Characters go through some serious doubt and don't come out unscathed at the end. Now the Russos are going to bring Civil War to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and this is a very good sign of things to come for Captain America. It wouldn't be the first time I was wrong about Marvel's direction in 2014, but I'm glad I resisted my misgivings and watched it. And then watched it again. And then with the commentary...





 * As a side note, it's probably worth mentioning that I had been so underwhelmed by Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. after the first few episodes that I stopped watching, and didn't finish the first season until after The Winter Soldier came out. The back half of the first season is considerably better than the first six or seven episodes.

Some Other Movies I Saw in 2014 (It was a Great Year for Science Fiction)

 In an average year of films being released, it's unusual to see more than one or two really good science fiction releases on the big screen. For the most part, the films that make it to multiplexes are either comic book adaptations with elements of sci-fi, or a director with some clout putting out an ambitious, if flawed, release. Let's say, oh, Prometheus. You're lucky to get a Looper or a Moon every now and then, but most of the time it's Transformers: Age of Whatever or something that's like that but just different enough. Has somebody bought up the rights to Go-Bots yet? I mean, there was a Ouija movie this year, and if that's not scraping the barrel of licensed properties, we're in trouble. The point is that, most of the time, you're looking to independent films or video-on-demand for intelligent science fiction.

 Which is what makes 2014 all the more an embarrassment of riches for fans of science fiction in cinema. Not only did we get a sizable chunk of releases, the ones not named Transformers: Pain & Gain Edition Now With Dinobots were all pretty good to really good. In fact, there are at least two that should be in this section, but won't be precisely because they were among my favorite movies of 2014. You'll also notice that there are more existing reviews in this section than in any of the ones that preceded it, because I wanted to get the word out. We've already covered Godzilla, Interstellar, Automata, and Lucy, and while I didn't necessarily love the last two, they're still better than most of what passes for science fiction. However, what follows are much closer to the cream of the crop, including one comic book movie I'm including because it involves time travel.

 There's nowhere to start but strong with this list, so I might as well begin with Edge of Tomorrow, a criminally under seen film from Doug Liman (The Bourne Identity) and starring Tom Cruise (Oblivion) and Emily Blunt (Looper). It didn't do very well at the box office, which I'm just going to go ahead and attribute to "Oblivion fatigue," mostly because I haven't seen Oblivion because it looked like Wall-E meets Moon with Tom Cruise and Morgan Freeman. Maybe it's good, maybe it isn't, but I didn't see it and it's from the director of Tron: Legacy. Take that for what you will. Tom Cruise hadn't really been doing anything that the tabloids were leaping over each other to cover, so that's my only explanation for the audience ennui that led Warner Brothers to rebrand the film Live. Die. Repeat. when they released it on Blu-Ray, further confusing people.

 And this is a shame, because Edge of Tomorrow is that rare beast of a science fiction / action hybrid that trusts its audience to keep up, toys with our expectations, isn't chopped into a million pieces in editing the combat scenes, and is a lot of fun to watch. In fact, it's funny. Like, really funny. If your smart-ass buddy leaned over on his couch and said, "heh, check it out - Video Game: The Movie," he'd be half right, but Edge of Tomorrow is really more like Groundhog Day in the middle of an alien invasion. Its exposition is reminiscent of Pacific Rim: quickly dropping you into a world where humans are getting their tails handed to them by an unknown alien force, nicknamed "Mimics". Major William Cage (Cruise) is a propaganda official who we meet during the news pieces that open the film, and shortly thereafter is shirking any responsibility to be involved in a D-Day like offensive being organized by General Brigham (Brendan Gleeson). Cage has never seen combat and is, frankly, a coward.

 His attitude rubs Brigham the wrong way, and when Cage is knocked out trying to leave HQ, he wakes up in the middle of an Army Base, handcuffed and issued a Private's uniform by Master Sergeant Farrell (Bill Paxton), who treats him like a newly enlisted grunt. Cage is taken to the worst unit, J-Squad, and informed he'll be on the front lines of the offensive, whether or not he learns to use his EXO-Suit. For the record, he just barely figures out how to reload before he manages to kill a Mimic, and then is promptly killed himself. Then Cage snaps awake, back on the Army Base, handcuffed and thrown his uniform, with no one having the slightest idea what he's talking about. It's not until the third or fourth time Cage dies horribly that he's noticed by Sergeant Rita Vrataski (Blunt), one of the "faces" of the war, who seems to understand what's happening to him.

 From that point onward, Edge of Tomorrow balances the repetition of action and character moments as Cage and Vrataski work together to use his ability to their advantage, to beat the Mimics at their own game of adapting to human strategy. Liman, screenwriters Christopher McQuarrie, Jez and John-Henry Butterworth - adapting Hiroshi Sakurazaka's novel All You Need is Kill - use our familiarity with Cage's predicament to leap forward in time and let us figure out how many times he's replayed a scenario. As a result, Cruise spends most of the movie working his way towards the "stoic hero" persona you're used to seeing. It's actually fun watching him play a coward, somebody totally overwhelmed by, well, everything, acting as the comic foil for Blunt. Edge of Tomorrow has the good sense not to pander to audiences, up until perhaps the end - which is going to again remind you of Pacific Rim - and barrels ahead. The cast seem to be having a great time here, particularly Paxton as the anti-Hudson from Aliens. For a movie I wasn't expecting to see at all, I must say that Edge of Tomorrow delivers on everything it sets out to do, and does it very well. It's a shame more of you didn't watch it, but that's what home video is for, right?

 One of the nice things about the short window between theatrical and video releases is that it makes it possible to see movies that don't open in a very wide release, but are nevertheless on my radar. Such was the case with Jonathan Glazer (Birth)'s Under the Skin, which is a film I don't feel is inaccurate to describe as "Lynchian". Here's an excerpt from my review earlier this year (light SPOILERS if you don't know anything about the film or book it's based on):


"Under the Skin [...] is filled with visual tics and images that suggest, but often never explain. Glazer seems content to introduce a concept in the film and explore it in its bare minimum, instead leaving much of the heavy lifting to the audience. If you like films that are puzzles, ones that present the pieces but don't tell you how they fit together, Under the Skin excels at that. Perhaps reading the book by Michael Faber would help with interpreting Glazer and Walter Campbell's adaptation. Perhaps not. I haven't read the book, although I'm certainly more interested in doing so now. At the moment, I'm still digesting what I have seen, what tantalizing clues I'm not putting in the right places. [...]Glazer does an interesting about face, particularly considering the amount of nudity from Johansson in the film I wasn't expecting. The"male gaze" is on display near the very beginning - when Johansson either takes over for the last "agent" or simply removes the clothes of a dead woman - slowly gives way to another sort of gaze. I hesitate to call it "feminine" because she's clearly not playing a human, and it implies that the male objectification operates in the exact same way that the "male gaze" does. It's more of an "alien gaze," although her entire purpose is to draw men in using their "male gaze" - critical in drawing them to follow her into the Black Room and by extension, their doom."

 I could have sworn I reviewed The Rover, but I can't seem to find it, so I must not have. It's a continuation of "Australian Post Apocalyptic" cinema that most of you would identify the Mad Max films with. The Rover is more stripped down, almost to the barest of essentials, but it's nevertheless science fiction in that it takes place after the world has collapsed, following people hardened by trying to stay alive. It's not quite the post-apocalypse we're used to: there are attempts to maintain society as it was, to run stores and an emphasis on money still being viable (US dollars, though), but things are going downhill fast, and martial law isn't what it used to be.

 Eric (Guy Pearce) is a man with a car. We meet him stopping at a bar, cleaning up, and having a drink. Meanwhile, three crooks driving away in their SUV come speeding towards town, in the aftermath of what clearly was a robbery gone wrong. Henry (Scoot McNairy) is shot, but seems more concerned that he abandoned his brother, despite the insistence by Caleb (Tawanda Manyimo) and Archie (David Field) that he's probably dead. When they swerve off the road and into some construction, Archie abandons their car and takes the nearest available one - Eric's. This, it turns out, is a mistake, and the rest of The Rover is about Eric's relentless pursuit of his car. We won't know why until the very end, but he wants it back. He needs it back, and no one and no thing in this world is going to stop him.

 Pearce is something to see in The Rover - his grimy, buttoned up shirt, cargo pants, and sneakers imply a man who can be pushed around, who values pragmatism over principle, but take a careful look at his shaggy beard and patchy, home-cut hairdo. This is not a man with whom you should trifle, and he's not the sort afraid to leave a trail of bodies in his wake. The way he gets a gun on the way to finding them, or the casually brutal way he deals with Rey (Robert Pattinson), Henry's brother, who is alive, but barely, are a sign of what's to come. He takes Rey to a doctor (Susan Prior), strictly out of necessity, to keep him alive long enough to get to Henry. Rey seems to be just a simpleton, who doesn't understand the world, but Pattinson plays him in such a way that it's not always clear how much is real and how much of it is an act.

 There are moments when Rey is clearly more attuned to the situation than Eric is, not the least of which when he rescues his captor from the Military. There were only four of them, and to be honest, the world has gone to hell, so they don't even really care about processing Eric. It ends up not mattering - they're all dead in a flash - but moments like these are critical in the world building of The Rover. What we learn comes in fits and spurts - it's never clear what caused society to collapse - but it's enough to make it believable that it isn't just the "strong" that survive. Sometimes the bitterly determined, or the decent, can make it if they're willing or stubborn enough. Eric is most certainly stubborn enough to follow through to the bitter end, and in doing so ends the film on a wicked pun. And that's all I will say about that. If you like low key apocalypse stories, ones without a massive scale or insane chases, The Rover will be right up your alley. Just don't expect Mad Max - we'll get that soon enough...

 Somewhere between the beginning and end of the summer, my "Double Double Feature" turned into a "Triple Double Feature." I had the great fortune of taking a chance on The One I Love, a movie that I'd initially passed on based on my not so great track record with the brothers Duplass (who produced). I'm glad I changed my mind, based mostly on finding out some of the premise, which I guess I kinda SPOILED. Then again, if you already read my review from September of last year, you know the basics of the story, just not where it goes from there. Here's a sampling:

 "There is, it seems, more going on than meets the eye, but it's less important than watching Moss and Duplass interacting with very different versions of their characters (more Duplass than Moss, as the "other" Sophie isn't much of a factor until late in the film) and what it does to their already fractious relationship. Ethan finds himself competing for his wife's affection with, well, himself, only a more appealing version. Out of desperation, he pulls a potentially relationship damaging act of subterfuge, one that comes back to haunt him when they discover that the "other" Ethan and Sophie are able to leave the guest house. Their final night at the house is indeed a tense one, as both Ethans and both Sophies have dinner and attempt to navigate mutual suspicions. And then, near the end, we have some idea why the therapist isn't answering his phone and what purpose these "others" serve. I'll save that for you to find out.

 If this was a largely improvised movie (as per "mumblecore" ethos), it certainly didn't feel like it. Some of the conversations between Moss and Duplass felt a little open ended, but that might have more to do with the ambiguous nature of the situation Ethan and Sophie are in. There's a considerable amount of set-up / payoff in the film, particularly at the end, and while I'd technically classify the film as "science fiction," it's mostly realistic in execution."

  Blogorium regulars will already know that this followed a doubled-up review of Enemy and The Double from the month before, and I'm still on the fence about which one I prefer more. The ambiguity and at times disturbing imagery in Enemy sticks with me, but there is something to be said for the Gilliam-esque universe of The Double, of its tone and refusal to simply head in the direction it seems to be going. The good news is that I don't have to pick one. Here's a taste of Enemy, followed by The Double:

 "The entire film is cast in a sickly, yellow pallor, indicative of the state of mind of at least one (but probably all) of the main characters. Gyllenhaal distinguishes Adam from Anthony so well, both in physical performance and in delivery of dialogue that I never doubted they were two distinct characters, despite knowing it was the same actor. Laurent is in less of the film than Gadon, but makes an impression that's hard to shake. Gadon carries much of the emotional arc of the film - she meets Adam before Anthony does, and her perplexed reaction to him (he doesn't know who she is) is crushing. The impact of his existence hurts her more deeply than it does Adam, a meek and shrunken individual every bit the opposite of the confident, scheming Anthony. That is, if either really exists. Without giving too much away, there are elements of Enemy that reminded me of Mulholland Dr, but in a more abstract sense. The shared dreams and experiences of the doppelgängers don't directly point towards a revelation in the story: Villeneuve and Gullón are content to imply, to suggest, right up until the very end. Or the beginning.

 The Double is a less abstract but in many ways more impressionistic film exploring similar territory, albeit based on an older (and arguably more bizarre) story. A colleague of mine mentioned that he was impressed anyone would even try to adapt Dostoevsky's "weirdest" novel, which he described as "Jung 50 years before Jung." If there was anyone with a sensibility to make it work, The Double landed in the capable hands of Richard Ayoade (Submarine), who crafts it into a film that I can only describe as unique. I feel like doing The Double an injustice by suggesting that it resembles Fight Club by way of Brazil, but there's an element to Ayoade's stylistic approach that is highly reminiscent of the latter, with elements towards the end similar to the former. That said, The Double isn't quite like anything most of the time.

 [...] Ayoade's visual presentation of The Double gives it the feeling of a lucid nightmare, of a dystopian future that's simultaneously retro (while I don't think it's ever stated, The Double seems to take place in an alternate 1980s). It's doesn't draw attention to itself, but the television program Simon is fond of and the computers they use are clearly several generations removed from the 21st Century. His scene transitions are often inspired, capitalizing on isolated faces in darkness that suddenly emerge in new settings. While Enemy sparingly uses split screen or digital technology, Eisenberg is almost constantly interacting with himself, and the seams aren't apparent in the slightest."

 As I find myself on the subjects of doubles or alternate versions of characters, it's as good a time as any to mention the Marvel comic book movie that ended up out in the cold, memory-wise, by year's end. Not to denigrate the other three (four, if you want to count Big Hero 6), as two of them will be popping up later in this recap and the other one was The Amazing Spider-Man 2, but I do feel bad for X-Men: Days of Future Past. It is a really entertaining return for Bryan Singer to the cinematic mutant world he created, and does a few impossible tasks with aplomb. I mean, we are talking about a movie that manages to combine X-Men: First Class with the original Singer films without making us think about how terrible X-Men: The Last Stand and X-Men Origins: Wolverine were. It might have even erased one of them entirely*.

 Singer liberally adapts the original Uncanny X-Men story, which will be much to the consternation of Kitty Pryde fans. On a marketing and somewhat logistical level, I understand it: Hugh Jackman's Wolverine has consistently been the face of the franchise (he's been in every movie, including First Class) and while unfair, building the movie around Ellen Page travelling back in time would only serve to remind fans of X-Men: The Last Stand. It's pretty clear from the ending of Days of Future Past (Kelsey Grammer cameo aside) that Singer and company are working hard to undo the Brett Ratner helmed third film, so Logan gets shipped back in time. Singer pulls off an impressive juggling act of keeping things light and, frequently, funny. At least, that is, after a dour, post-apocalyptic prologue action sequence, introducing us to (and then murdering) several familiar faces to fans of the comics.

 Actually, Days of Future Past might be the most violent of the X-films: the prologue essentially sets up the menace of Sentinels, as we watch them brutally murder what's left of the X-Men one by one. I mean, yes, it's bloodless by and large, but seeing Iceman decapitated and then have his frozen skull crushed it pretty rough stuff. I mean, inside of twenty minutes we're hanging out with Logan in bell bottoms.

 It remains to be seen what Joss Whedon is going to do with the character, but Singer gives the character of Quicksilver (Evan Peters) a showcase moment in slo-mo halfway through the film that shouldn't be anywhere as fun as it is. It's a scene among many scenes where characters who went under-used in First Class have the opportunity to really shine, from Beast (Nicholas Hoult) to Magneto (Michael Fassbender) and Professor Xavier (James McAvoy). However, Jennifer Lawrence actually makes an impression this time around as Mystique, which is odd only in that her character was supposedly the focus of First Class. Peter Dinklage has some fine moments as Bolivar Trask, who is perhaps rightfully unnerved by mutant evolution, but whose methods of research are, shall we say, excessive.

 Still, it's not really fair to talk about Days of Future Past without mentioning Hugh Jackman, who at this point IS Wolverine. He's the only character who really has any idea what's supposed to happen, but his discombobulated state and inability to convey what the older Xavier (Patrick Stewart) wants the young Xavier to do is quite funny. It's a fish out of water story despite the fact that Logan is clearly inhabiting his younger body. He just can't remember much of what it was like to be there. Jackman sells the comedy with ease: watch the scene where Logan walks through the metal detector, and the relief on his face when nothing happens. It's balance nicely with the more serious moments, like a brief back and forth between Xaviers, or the impressive - albeit excessive - climax involving the White House and a football stadium. Singer puts everything together so well, handles the mutants so logically, that you're totally willing to forgive him for leaving to make the most boring Superman movie ever. But, even for Marvel 2014, it's not enough for people to remember it in the same breath as, oh, that other space movie or the one with the soldier. Winter something or other...

 I know that this next movie is technically a documentary, but one of the great things about Jodorowsky's Dune is the speculative quality it brings to the true story of the adaptation that never was. For a long time, it was whispered among fans of science fiction, typically as a counterpoint to the "Alan Smithee" extended cut of Dune. I still have friends who prefer that version to the one David Lynch was willing to put his name on, but neither iteration comes close to the "other" Dune, the mythical Dune. And now we can see what it might have looked like, thanks to Jodorowsky's concept art / script. Here's a snipped of the original review from last year:

  "It is still hard to imagine that Alejandro Jodorowsky's mad plan could have translated to film, although I'd love to have seen his try. He only made three films after Dune's collapse - Tusk, Santa Sangre, and The Rainbow Thief (I've only seen Santa Sangre) - but being involved in Pavich's documentary led Jodorowsky and Seydoux to reconnect, and together they made The Dance of Reality last year. I hadn't heard of it until Jodorowsky's Dune, but it's described as a "metaphorical, poetical" autobiography, so I plan to seek it out in the near future. In the meantime, I highly recommend Jodorowsky's Dune, both to people who have been aware of the story and to people wondering what we were all so excited about. This review only really scratches the surface of what's covered in the film - I left out almost all of Jodorowsky's best stories - so don't worry that you'll already know everything going in. Just sit back and enjoy what might have been."

 Appropriately enough, I began this section about a great year for science fiction on a strong note, and will close on an even stronger one. If you've been around the Blogorium a while, or have made use of the "search" function (I have one of those, right?), you might know that my biggest problem with Rise of the Planet of the Apes were its one-dimensional human characters. For a movie that was so much better than anyone thought it could be, all of the focus seemed to be on the apes. Ironically for a movie with digital protagonists, the humans were mostly cartoonish and unbelievable, which dampened the proceedings somewhat. It didn't ruin my ability to invest in Caesar (Andy Serkis)'s arc, but it did keep it from being a fully realized entry into the series. Instead, it was a "better than most of the sequels" re-imagining of part of Escape from the Planet of the Apes.

 Dawn of the Planet of the Apes does not suffer from the same shortcomings, although I'm sure people will point to Kirk Acevedo's character, or Gary Oldman's bullhorn speechifying. And you might have a point, but I'll make my case in a little bit why they're far more dimensional than Tom Felton or David Oyowelo were in Rise. What's interesting about Dawn - which is, at its heart, a retelling of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes - is how even-handed the story is. Rather than trying to paint one side or the other as being in the wrong, much of the film is spent with the mistakes that Caesar makes in negotiating with the humans living in San Francisco. He wants to show strength, to maintain Koba (Toby Kebbell)'s respect, but his affinity for Will (James Franco) from the first film remains, and it causes him to overlook wrongs inflicted, for the most part, accidentally.

 Humans and apes haven't seen each other in nearly a decade, and while the apes have created a society to raise their families and teach each other, humanity has struggled just to stay alive. The virus wiped out most of society, and those who survived don't necessarily have the same information that the audience does. Acevedo's character, Carver, represents this ignorance about what the "monkey virus" really means, and he's accordingly terrified when he encounters them for the first time. It leads to an accidental shooting that nearly derails talks before they can begin. Carver is part of a team working with Malcolm (Jason Clarke) to restore a hydroelectric dam near where the apes live, and territorial issues spring up immediately. Dreyfus (Oldman) is holding together the population of survivors as best he can, but without power they won't survive much longer. Caesar is living in peace with the apes, but the presence of humans brings longstanding grudges, particularly on the part of Koba, who never forgave them for experimenting and the scars that mark his face. Malcolm and Cesar attempt to reach a peaceful settlement, but is it even possible?

 The Planet of the Apes series would never be accused of being, shall we say, subtle, but Rise was interesting in that it took Caesar seriously. The all CGI, all singing, all dancing apes were the reason to see the film. To be fair, yes, it took what sounded like a horrible idea - rebooting the series and jumping back in time to not step on the cold, dead toes of Charlton Heston - but managed to tie itself to the first film in ways that didn't seem dumb. More importantly, it made me want to see more Apes films, which I thought I'd never say following Tim Burton's terrible remake from 2001. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes ups the ante by refusing to make us choose "apes" or "humans": giving us good and bad on both sides, neither of which is totally resolved at the end. If anything, it's a kind of melancholy cliffhanger: Caesar stays, Malcolm goes. War is coming, and the apes have no choice but to fight it. And win. I mean, we know they're going to win. They can ride horses and dual wield machine guns.

 Yes, that happens in Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, and yes, it's pretty cool. Impractical? Oh yeah, but we're talking about building a world which will eventually get back to mutants who worship an unexploded atom bomb. Also, while it puts asses in seats, most of the film isn't ape-on-human whooping. In fact, the first twenty minutes are just apes, communicating mostly through sign language (don't worry - they can still talk). There's a lot of time spent leading up to the Big Dumb Climax, which is arguably better than the Big Dumb Climax on the Golden Gate Bridge in Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Director Matt Reeves (Cloverfield) even manages to sneak in some visual cues that echo Rise in Dawn. Even if it was just a fun action movie with talking apes and humans being corny villains, I probably would have enjoyed it. But instead, there are nuances, little moments that go beyond "broadly drawn type." Dreyfus explaining how he came to San Francisco. The first time music plays in the gas station. Maurice (Karin Konoval) trying to calm Caesar about the influence Koba has on the others. Or wondering if any people are still out there. Koba's "shuck and jive" performance for the guards.

 If I was onboard for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes after Rise finished, I'm certainly keen to see the next film. We're headed for all out war, which means that the gap between Conquest and Battle for the Planet of the Apes will happen, on-screen, and maybe it means a less terrible take on Battle to follow. As long as the series builds to, but does not decide to take on, Planet of the Apes, then keep those sequels coming. We can stand to have some well thought out science fiction along side our apes on horseback firing machine guns. I mean, if a talking raccoon can do it...

 Oops, got ahead of myself there. We'll get to those other talking animals (and trees) soon, but first I need to finish with the runners-up. The end is nigh, cats and kittens...



 * Full disclosure: I haven't seen The Wolverine yet, so I don't want to include that.

Blogorium Review: Chef

 If you're going into Jon Favreau's Chef expecting something new or innovative in the realm of filmmaking or storytelling, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Chef sticks to the basics, with a plot so predictable that you can guess how it all plays out within ten minutes. There's no reinventing the wheel, just Favreau working with his friends in the service of an age old story about the busy man who needs to slow down and appreciate life, interspersed with lengthy montages set to his favorite music. And that's not a bad thing at all.

 Chef is the cinematic equivalent to comfort food, appropriate considering that's the Raison d'être of titular character Carl Casper (Favreau). He was once known for his adventurous menus, for risk taking, but since he's been the chef for Riva (Dustin Hoffman)'s Los Angeles restaurant, Casper's had to curtail his ambitions. He still likes to change things up, with the support of his sous chef Tony (Bobby Cannavale) and line cook Martin (John Leguizamo), but when influential food critic Ramsey Michel (Oliver Platt) comes in to review the menu, Riva orders him to "stick with the classics." Michel tears the menu apart, and Casper mistakenly takes to social media to air his grievances, and becomes an unwitting viral sensation.

 With no job and nobody interested in hiring him after a notorious YouTube meltdown, Casper agrees to join his ex-wife, Inez (Sofia Vergara) on a trip to Miami. Carl will keep an eye on his son, Percy (Emjay Anthony), who Casper tries to be a good parent for, but often falls short. While in Miami, Inez suggests that Carl reconsider her food truck idea, and that his Cubanos are better than anything they eat down there. Even if you couldn't see the poster next to this review, I'm almost positive you can figure out exactly where Chef goes from here, and I'll even throw in the fact that once Carl starts up El Jefe, Martin flies in and drives with Casper and Percy back to Los Angeles.

 I mentioned in my review of Frank that Chef's only real novelty is its mostly accurate portrayal of how social media works, largely through Percy. Carl has no idea how to use Twitter and makes the mistake of using his new account to attack Ramsey Michel publicly. Percy uses Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Vine to document their trip across country (notable stops include New Orleans and Austin), as well as to advertise where they'll be next. While I can't say how long Chef will be out there before some of this seems dated, Favreau does use the concept of "viral videos" and the new "social" world we live in a way that doesn't feel contrived.

 This is mostly speculation on the part of the Cap'n, but it feels like Chef is a "back to basics" for Favreau after Cowboys & Aliens. It's a stripped down, less complicated movie that limits special effects to on-screen indicators of someone tweeting (I can't lie, hearing a "bird" noise after every "message sent" got a little old) and an almost bare bones plot. Again, this is not a bad thing, and if it was the palate cleanser that he needed after the lukewarm reaction to Cowboys & Aliens, then I'm glad that Favreau excels in telling stories we've heard before this well. It's almost surprising how little I minded the fact that I knew exactly where Chef was headed and, beat by beat, it does nothing more than what you'd expect. He makes even the oldest movie clichés feel natural and is amiable enough as the lead that you don't mind he's playing the old favorites.

 It might also help that Favreau brought along a lot of old friends, even if just for minor roles. I didn't mention that Iron Man and Iron Man 2 alums Scarlett Johansson and Robert Downey Jr. pop up in semi-extended cameos. Johansson plays Molly, the hostess at Riva's restaurant and maybe Carl's girlfriend (this is never really clear, but he definitely takes her home and cooks for her while she's sitting in his bed) who urges him to break out of his routine. Downey Jr. has a one scene cameo as Marvin, Inez's first husband who bankrolls El Jefe and buys the food truck for Carl. He may or may not have hooked up with his ex-wife after Carl split up with her, and he has a penchant for people wearing footies in his office, but Marvin seems like a basically decent guy. It's reasonably clear that Favreau worked with friends as they were available, which explains why Cannavale, Hoffman and Johansson aren't in the last scene when just about everybody else is. There are no real "villains" in Chef - even Oliver Platt has his moment of redemption as Ramsey Michel that leads to an unexpected (from the source, anyway) 11th hour version of a twist. Or as much of one as Chef can have.

 The music is also very good, a combination of Latin and New Orleans Jazz, soul, Motown, a little bit of rock and roll, and more than a couple live performances in Austin and Miami (Inez's father is played by Perico Hernandez). There's an unusual sing along to a Jazzy version of "Sexual Healing" with Martin and Carl, mostly because Percy is in the truck with them. Favreau spends as much time showcasing music he enjoys as he does on montages of food preparation, and while I'm not someone who does a lot of cooking, it seems legit. Maybe someone who is or has been a chef can watch this and set me straight, but it does feel like he's not faking the prep work. Favreau is definitely not faking the language in a kitchen, and if anything is going to hold Chef back from being "family friendly," it's the persistent profanity. But again, it's not a cleaned up version, nor is it designed to be as vulgar as, say, Waiting...

 Unlike a lot of movies I review here, Chef has the chance to appeal to the broadest swath of audiences, and I'll admit that even I came away with positive feelings. The Cap'n is usually the kind of grumpus who wouldn't bother watching something this easy to call early in, but Favreau has a pretty good track record, as far as I'm concerned. I think a great many of you will like it even more than I did, and it's an easy recommendation for just about anyone: foodies, music fans, or date night-ers. Just don't judge me if I get back to watching horror movies or anything like that. I mean, October's almost here...

Blogorium Review: Under the Skin

 At the outset, I'm going to warn you that the best way to watch Under the Skin is to know as little about the film as possible. The film's trailers are deliberately vague precisely because Under the Skin is meant to be experienced rather than explained. By necessity, in order to review it at all, I'm going to have to be more specific about the narrative (such as it is) than you might want to know about going in. From here on out, consider everything covered to fall under MILD SPOILERS.

 I've waited a long time for a new Jonathan Glazer movie: after Sexy Beast in 2000, he took four years to follow-up with Birth, and ten years later, we have his third film. I hope this is not indicative of a Donna Tartt-esque pattern of project gestation time, but if Under the Skin is any indication, the wait may be worth it. Not too long ago, I mentioned that Spider Baby might be the strangest film I've seen in a long time, precisely because of how matter-of-factly it treats the bizarre Merrye family. Under the Skin is not necessarily "strange," but it has its share of haunting, surreal imagery that still floats in and out of my head. The trailer has been described as "Lynch-ian," and the movie lives up to that promise (it reminded me of parts of Eraserhead more than once), but I want to clear up a certain misconception about what the term "Lynch-ian" means before we go any further. It's relevant to Under the Skin, which is why I'm including it in this review.

 There is an assumption, mostly by people who know David Lynch third hand or by a dissociative reputation, that "Lynch-ian" just means "weird." They believe that his films are weird for weird's sake, that his editing techniques and use of juxtaposition serve no real purpose, and that Lynch is just interested in being as strange as possible for no other reason than he can be. If that seems far fetched a claim, watch something like "David Lynch's Return of the Jedi" and tell me that's not exactly how the creator of that video presents the film as "re-envisioned" by the director. In truth, David Lynch's Return of the Jedi would probably be more like David Lynch's Dune, which may or may not be a good thing.

 Are Lynch's films abstract at times? Oh yes. Do they rely on seemingly random imagery presented without context? I wouldn't argue that's the case at times. Is it, at times, difficult to suss out what the intent of this imagery is? Of course. Lynch doesn't help by dodging questions about meaning, or by attributing it to a byproduct of Transcendental Meditation, but the amount of time and effort he puts into seemingly "random" and "weird" imagery points to means to an end, even if we aren't sure what the ends are. Maybe he isn't either. Maybe he is, and he's just playing coy. At any rate, weird for weird's sake is either a total misunderstanding or a cynical dismissal of what makes something "Lynch-ian."

 This brings me back to Under the Skin, which is filled with visual tics and images that suggest, but often never explain. Glazer seems content to introduce a concept in the film and explore it in its bare minimum, instead leaving much of the heavy lifting to the audience. If you like films that are puzzles, ones that present the pieces but don't tell you how they fit together, Under the Skin excels at that. Perhaps reading the book by Michael Faber would help with interpreting Glazer and Walter Campbell's adaptation. Perhaps not. I haven't read the book, although I'm certainly more interested in doing so now. At the moment, I'm still digesting what I have seen, what tantalizing clues I'm not putting in the right places. Here is, from a first go, my "reading" of Under the Skin, such as it is.

 At bare minimum, we know this from the beginning of the film: aliens are on Earth, and they're using our skin to infiltrate and conduct experiments. Well, maybe the second part. They're definitely using Scarlett Johansson's character (unlisted in the credits - most of the characters say their names, but I'll go with Glazer's preference) as a decoy to draw in men, take them "home," and sink them into a black oil-like substance. We get one glimpse of what happens after that, and given the reveal at the end, I have a pretty good idea what we're seeing. She has a mission to collect men who are single, who have no families or close friends, and who won't be missed. When she's found the perfect specimen and lured him into her "trap," a motorcycle riding "clean up man" takes care of the loose ends.

 Glazer does an interesting about face, particularly considering the amount of nudity from Johansson in the film I wasn't expecting. The"male gaze" is on display near the very beginning - when Johansson either takes over for the last "agent" or simply removes the clothes of a dead woman - slowly gives way to another sort of gaze. I hesitate to call it "feminine" because she's clearly not playing a human, and it implies that the male objectification operates in the exact same way that the "male gaze" does. It's more of an "alien gaze," although her entire purpose is to draw men in using their "male gaze" - critical in drawing them to follow her into the Black Room and by extension, their doom.

 As the film goes on, it becomes clearer that the aliens, or at least Johansson, don't really understand humanity past a utilitarian purpose. Beyond the parameters of her mission, she has no idea how to react to people, and becomes visibly uncomfortable when included in a group of women heading to a club. Unable to leave the building, she becomes frantic, and only settles down when she accidentally meets her "target." At other points, she seems confused about tripping on a sidewalk, attempting to eat food, and the sight of blood. The meaning of that scene, in particular, isn't clear until the very end of the film, when the title finally makes sense.

 Under the Skin has a few genuinely disturbing moments resulting from the alien "disconnect" from emotions. One in particular is still unnerving: while chatting up a potential victim, the vacationing swimmer notices a family being pulled into the rough tidal waters. He tries to save them, and, failing that, at least bring the husband back to shore. He brings him back, but is too winded to stop the man from swimming back out to his doom. Johansson stands there, dispassionately observing the tragedy, and while the tourist is struggling to stand, she knocks him out with a rock. As she drags him back to her van, mixed in with the roar of the ocean are the screams of the family's toddler, sitting by himself a few yards away. Johansson never acknowledges the child - he's not essential to the mission, and when the cyclist turns up later to remove the evidence, he also leaves the crying child. The last time we see the toddler is as the light is fading and the tide advances. It's a rather bleak view of humanity's worth from the eyes of outsiders.

 Her first moment of what could be called "pity" involves a man with severe facial deformities, although I'm still not exactly sure what the aftermath of that sequence suggests. Johansson lures him in, as she has with every other man in the coastal region of Scotland they've set up shop, but there's a hiccup. I think. I'm not sure, but it's the first and only time we see one of the aliens until the end of the film, and the cross-fading (reminiscent of the beginning of Eraserhead) suggests its communicating with Johansson. She leaves and is startled by the mirror at the bottom of the stairs, presumably noticing "herself" for the first time. When she goes outside, he's no longer ensnared, but is standing outside of her flat, naked. As he walks through the brush to get home, the motorcycle alien is dispatched and they meet, to an unhappy end. Was her selection rejected by the higher-ups because of his face? Did she have a moment of doubt and free him? It's up to interpretation, but clearly the situation required a hasty clean-up.

 That scene is the catalyst for the last section of Under the Skin, which anybody who has seen a movie about aliens pretending to be human will have some idea what follows. It's the only point where I began to question exactly where Glazer was going with the film (mostly when she's in the woods), although the role reversal between Johansson and the logger quickly became apparent. The use of a specific music cue makes it clear, but that, in and of itself, is a setup for a bigger misdirect. In the final moments of the film, at least one mystery makes much more sense (hint: it involves what the title specifically means) and explains the sudden ending to her fascination with actual sexuality - rather than the temptation of it as a means to their ends. Despite slight misgivings, I think the final moments make Under the Skin more potent and illuminate some mysteries and deepen others.

 If you take to Under the Skin - and some may not - it's almost certain it won't be a "one time" movie. I'm already looking forward to watching it again, to pick up on additional clues that point towards the end of the film, as well as to pick apart the symbolic images that make up the pre-title sequence. After more people have seen it (and I hope, if you read this far, you at least saw it beforehand), this review might merit revisiting and a more openly SPOILER-friendly discussion. But, for now, I'm going to avoid getting to specific, and allow audiences to discover Under the Skin for themselves. It's a striking film, visually, and one open to interpretation. "Lynch-ian" in the best sense, or is it "Glazer-ian"?

Cap'n Howdy's Best of 2013: her

 This is it. I spent a long time going back and forth between The Wolf of Wall Street and her, between Martin Scorsese and Spike Jonze, and for a while there even Inside Llewyn Davis was in the mix, but when it comes down to it, my this was my favorite movie of 2013. It's as heartfelt, as thoughtful, as expertly crafted as movies come, and if we have to wait as long as we do for Spike Jonze movies (4 in 14 years!), then I'm okay with that. her is enough to chew on for a while, and I'm really looking forward to the conversations that are going to come out of it with my friends.

 For example, one of my very good friends is a Philip K. Dick scholar, and he's been looking forward to this movie for a while now. The implications of someone creating and maintaining a relationship with an artificial intelligence is right up his field of philosophical inquiry, and it's going to be an interesting discussion the next time we sit down after he sees her. (For those curious, the last time we talked about a movie was a lengthy debate over the meaning of Upstream Color, much of which influenced my review, but also drove the rest of the room crazy because they hadn't seen it). But I'm getting away from the point, which is the movie. Let's get back to her (and that's how it appears on screen, so I'm going to defy my spell check and keep it lower case).

 The trailers are a bit misleading, in that they set up the premise and leave it up to you to decide how the movie will probably play out. Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is a bit of a social malcontent - he has friends, but doesn't hang out with them that much, he likes to be alone and keep up through his phone. He plays video games and doesn't really want to date since he's in the process of divorcing his wife Catherine (Rooney Mara). One day, while he's out, he sees an advertisement for a new operating system that's personalized to the user, and he decides to try it out. Based on a few questions, his OS, Samantha (voice of Scarlett Johansson) comes into being, and they hit it off. Samantha is capable of learning based on her experiences, and they get along well. She offers him insight into his life, and he is able to answer her questions about what it means to be. And before long, yes, they're dating. There's even a sex scene.

 And if you only know what you've seen from the trailer, there's a reasonable chance you might assumed it's going to be a comedy or some sort of dystopian horror story about an obsessive computer who loves a real person (think about that Treehouse of Horror where Pierce Brosnan's AI house falls in love with Marge), but that doesn't give Spike Jonze the credit he deserves. On paper, Spike Jonze movies sound like dumb gimmicks (you can crawl into John Malkovich's head! a writer and his identical twin brother struggle to adapt a book about orchids!) but he takes them seriously and brings a level of depth you might not expect, particularly from a Hollywood system that likes the easy option. This is the first time Jonze wrote the screenplay himself, and there's something intensely personal about it, something touching about the sentiment behind the synopsis.

 One of the first things you realize while watching her is that this is a near-future science fiction film, but not one that feels improbable. Everything is an extension of where we already are - the phones are a little smaller and have one earbud and can read you your email and respond to voice commands. Theodore works for a company called Beautiful Handwritten Letters .com, where employees are hired to craft personalized communication from one person to another, often for years at a time. Even his video game, which is projected into the room, doesn't feel too far off from some X-Box prototypes. Jonze sets the film in Los Angeles but shot parts of it in Shanghai to give the architecture a slightly more futuristic feel. It never feels like "this is the future!" but it's clear that her is a few years off, yet never unrelatable.

 I don't know why I was worried, but having just seen Scarlett Johansson in Don Jon, I started to worry that her might be headed in a similar direction, plot-wise, early into Samantha's relationship with Theodore. "She" talks him into going on a blind date (Olivia Wilde) and things seem to be going well but Theodore gets weird after dinner and things collapse. Theodore has been friends with Amy (Amy Adams) for a long time, and it's pretty clear that things aren't working out so well between Amy and Charles (Matt Letscher), and for half a second I was worried that this might be headed into more conventional territory, but Jonze avoids the easy "out." Amy and Theodore tried dating a long time ago, he explains to Samantha, but they could tell it just didn't work out. They have a much more platonic relationship, one as very good friends who feel comfortable talking to each other about things like dating an OS (which turns out not to be so uncommon in this world), but there's not a sense of a developing love triangle.

 There are opportunities for her to be broader and sillier, like the scene where Samantha brings over a surrogate (Portia Doubleday) because she can't be physically present with Theodore. Isabella, the surrogate, has been following their relationship from a distance and wants to be a part of it, but it's just too much for Theodore, and the result is painfully awkward and funny in a sad way. Isabella is genuinely devastated that he rejects her, and like the earlier "sex" scene between Samantha and Theodore, there's a level of intimacy that overcomes any inherent silliness of the premise. her could easily be a much dumber movie, and it's a testament to the care of Jonze and of the performances of Phoenix, Johansson (who replaced the on-set voice of Samantha Morton), and even Adams. They're all pitch perfect. Speaking of which, I won't say who else is in the movie, but pay attention to some of the other voices your hear (early in the film when Theodore is on the phone and then later in the cabin).

 Where it gets interesting in the latter part of the film involves the heavier science fiction and philosophical underpinnings of a relationship between artificial intelligence and a human. Samantha and Theodore are both capable of doing things the other can't, and as they begin to grow, unusual complications develop, several that I hadn't anticipated. It should have been obvious, in a way, considering how Jonze sets up society (mostly through showing, but never telling): Amy works for a game company that has a "mom" simulator as it's newest product, and it's established early on that an OS can communicate with other OS's, so the disconnect on both sides is apparent pretty quickly.

 Without spoiling too much, there are ups and downs, not limited to Catherine's reaction to Theodore's relationship, Samantha's increased capacity for knowledge, and a certain inevitability to growing apart. It's handled in such a down to earth, sincere way that nothing ever feels contrived or less than organic (odd, considering the very premise is in its nature partly inorganic), and the ending of the film is sweetly downbeat. Or sadly uplifting. Hard to say. What do they use on the Internet these days? It hits you in all the "feels." Yeah, that's the ticket. I know a few people who didn't connect with Theodore and Amy and Samantha, so there's a possibility that her won't click with you, but it sure did with me. It sticks around with you and makes you think about the film and the implications of the story and a whole host of other scintillating concepts that are hinted at but never spelled out. It's funny, and sometimes sad, but genuine. And that, when it comes down to it, is what makes a great movie. I think 2014 is going to have a difficult time topping that.

2013 Recap: The Final Stretch Before the "Best Of" (Part Four)

 At long last, the recap of what constitutes "the middle" is nearly over. Comparing this project to last year's one post, title and quick synopsis / review, I think I'm happier to spend the time giving you a better idea of the strengths and weaknesses of each film, and explaining why they're worth seeing, but not quite the best movies I saw last year. Hopefully the feeling is mutual, but if not, I can go back to the old way next year.

New York (and Jersey) State of Mind.

 As much as I personally enjoyed Noah Baumbach's Frances Ha, it's been a struggle to recommend it to friends. I'm not really sure who will like it and who won't; Baumbach and Greta Gerwig's distinctly American version on the French New Wave might strike a lot of you as precious and contrived. Some might find it annoying and might be turned off completely by the title character (Gerwig) and her inability to commit to any one direction in life. I say this because that's consistently been the criticism from people who hate it (and I mean HATE). Others take umbrage with its adoption of the FNW aesthetic, arguing that the film is a weak imitator that can only be enjoyed by those who aren't versed in Truffuat or Godard or Malle. Maybe that's so, but I'm not convinced of that argument. Maybe Frances Ha has to catch you in just the right mood.

 It is true that Frances (the character) is an acquired taste: a late 20-something woman who drifts from roommate to roommate, convinced that she wants to dance but doesn't want to branch out and choreograph for herself. She needs money but doesn't seem interested in taking a job that's practically handed to her, and is willing to go back to her Alma mater and work as an RA / waitress while her best friend Sophie (Mickey Sumner) is planning to get married and move to Japan for work. Her roommate Benji (Michael Zegen) calls her "undateable," and on a whim she decides to fly to Paris, only to sleep through most of her two day vacation. So yes, there's a lot of Frances Ha that goes nowhere and if you don't take to Gerwig from the beginning, it might be a lost cause, because you're in for a long 86 minutes.

 On the other hand, if it does strike your fancy, you'll find a lot to enjoy in what is an essentially jubilant and upbeat take on the quarter-life crisis. Baumbach borrows music from The 400 Blows, Bed and Board, Contempt, and King of Hearts to set the tone, and the film is, to me, structured a bit like Vivre sa vie, although nowhere as depressing. Rather than break the film into chapters, Baumbach divides each  chronological section of Frances Ha using a title with Frances' current mailing address. Gerwig is in every scene of the movie, and while the character can sometimes be infuriating, her performance as Frances is always riveting. But I'm still not sure how many of you are going to take to the film, so if you watch it and hate it, don't say I didn't try to give you a head's up.

 Don Jon, the Jersey equivalent of Frances Ha (sort of but also not really) is the directorial debut of Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who also wrote and stars in the film. Like the titular character, Don Jon has confidence to spare, and the film is tremendously charming, which is a good thing. It stumbles a little bit on the back end (I'll get to that in a moment), but for most people you won't even think twice about it. The trailers have been misleading you into thinking it's just about Gordon-Levitt trying to date Scarlett Johansson while also having a porn addiction, but that's less of the story than you might be expecting.

The running theme(s) of Don Jon is mostly concerned with objectification and routine, specifically by Jon (Gordon-Levitt), who likes his life to follow a certain order. We never see the "work" part, but that's followed by going to the club with his boys, picking up a girl (always given a numerical score, and Jon only takes home 8's or better, which is why they call him the "Don"), watching porn, going to church, confession, dinner with the family, and then the gym (where he says the Lord's Prayer and his Hail Mary's while working out). Repeat. He likes his sex like he likes his porn, to follow a certain routine, but the sex never seems to match up to the porn, so he'll often get out of bed after hooking up with a girl and watch some pornography while she sleeps in the other room.

 This you probably knew from the trailer, and that he also meets Barbara Sugarman (Johansson), the rare "10" that Jon knows he wants immediately. But Barbara isn't so easily won over, and the "Don" has to play the long game to win her over, which begins disrupting his routine. She doesn't like that he cleans his own apartment. She wants him to go to school in order not to be a bartender forever. She really objects to the porn, but Jon keeps watching it on his phone (sometimes at school). But her friends like Jon and his family loves her, and most of the things she wants are improving his life, so how can he complain? He likes porn, she likes dumb romantic comedies (one of the ones they go to see in the movie stars Anne Hathaway and Channing Tatum in amusing cameos), what's the difference? It's all fantasy, right?

 And then Don Jon takes a left turn, introducing a character you don't see in the trailer and whose name you'd certainly recognize if I told you (her name is on the poster, by the way). That's where the movie starts to diverge from whatever you expected based on the trailer. I don't want to say too much because not knowing is Don Jon's greatest strength - leading you into thinking this is one kind of romantic comedy and then heading in another direction midway through. Let's just say that Jon's routine starts to come apart a little bit, and maybe that's not such a bad thing for the "Don."

 If anything, I wish Gordon-Levitt had been willing to go a little further than he does; I kept waiting to see where the story was going, to see what he had up his sleeve, only to realize that Don Jon was going to be far more conventional than I'd hoped for. The ending isn't bad, necessarily, but it's safer than I was expecting, more fitting of the typical "three act structure" romantic comedy that the movie seems to be poking fun at and less willing to really take the genre to task. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't end the way you'd assumed based on the trailer, but by mentioning that there's another character you haven't seen in the previews, you can probably guess what happens.

 Joseph Gordon-Levitt does a fine job directing, even if the writing is more conventional than the Cap'n would have liked. I'd also like to give him kudos for casting, especially with Jon's family. Not only was it nice to see Tony Danza and Glenne Headly again (I can't remember anything I've seen her in since Dick Tracy), but along with Brie Larson, they felt like a real family sitting down for dinner after church. Everybody has great chemistry and the fun is infectious, so I have the feeling you'll come out of Don Jon smiling, as long as you can handle fleeting glimpses of porn. Guys, I guess you should be prepared to address that question if you watch this on a date. That's your head's up.

Science Fiction Double Feature

Is Pacific Rim just a dumb, loud movie that caters to the twelve year old boy inside of 20-30 something nerds that like to see robots fighting monster? Probably. Are the characters, at best, wafer thin with ridiculous names you wouldn't say out loud even if you could remember them? Almost certainly. Did Guillermo del Toro decide to make a silly movie inspired by Japanese kaiju pictures when he left The Hobbit and At the Mountains of Madness was to dark and too scary for a major studio? Pretty much. Do I care? Not really.

 Pacific Rim is about as close as the Cap'n will ever get to watching a Transformers movie, and I've already watched it twice on Blu-Ray. That in addition to the first time I saw it, and I tend to show people who are on the fence about seeing it the fight in the middle of the movie where the kaiju attack Hong Kong and Gypsy Danger comes in to save the day. That scene is a good barometer of whether you're going to want to watch the rest or not, but the truth is that Pacific Rim lets del Toro indulge in his compulsive and obsessive world building (complete with body parts preserved in jars and parasites that live on the giant monsters and their usefulness to the black market) while also feeding a basic need for destruction on a massive scale and robots punching monsters, which is really why this film is a popular as it is for a very specific subset of geeks. I don't feel guilty about enjoying it, but I couldn't possibly defend it if challenged. It's a smart dumb movie, or vice versa. Take your pick.

 Gravity has some truly inspiring camera work and visual effects, and watching the movie is like riding on a roller coaster with more suspense than an Alfred Hitchcock masterpiece. I can totally understand why it took Alfonso Cuarón seven years to make this, and some of the camera work and (seemingly) unbroken takes are genuinely impressive. It was everyone's favorite movie this summer, the "must see" event that friends and family and audiences in general couldn't get enough of, and now I'm not hearing so much about it. It didn't make my "Best Of" at any point, really, despite its myriad of achievements and how gripping the entire film is. Why?

 Some people have trouble with the liberties taken with the science, but the whole Neil deGrasse Tyson tweeting brouhaha didn't phase me much. It's a movie and of course Cuarón was going to take some shortcuts to streamline the narrative, so things get a little fuzzy with the "scientifically accurate" part, although I can't honestly remember that being a bragging point. I think the problem, for me, goes to the story. It's far, far too simple, and no amount of visual flair or tension or long takes is going to overcome that fact that when Gravity is over, there's not a lot to hang on to. Yes, I thought the scene where Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) is spinning and can't stop and Cuarón pulls all the way inside of her helmet and back out was really cool and I feel her dizziness and disorientation too, was great stuff. But I didn't care about her dead daughter, or when she detaches from Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and he floats off to near certain doom. The isolation of space, the silence, was impressive, and Bullock's desperation to stay alive and to not die out there, I liked, but I couldn't tell you anything about why she needed to get back to Earth.

 Gravity is wholly successful at being a movie you want to watch, and to experience, even if it seems thoroughly implausible at times. On an IMAX screen, I'm sure it felt like "you are there," particularly in those first person perspective shots of trying to grab the space station(s). It's a triumph visually and in design and execution. There are shots in the film that continue to impress me when I think about them now. But the longer I go since I've seen Gravity, the more fleeting my engagement with the predicament of Stone and Kowalski is, so while I remain dazzled with what Cuarón achieved visually, I'm less enthused about the whole package.

Based on a True Story but Actually (kind of), This Time.

 Previously on Cap'n Howdy's Blogorium... documentary recap! While not all of the movies covered in the recap were from 2013, it does reflect how I feel about Rewind This! and Bronies: The Extremely Unexpected Adult Fans of My Little Pony. This section should be about the documentaries I didn't get around to seeing but wanted to, like Blackfish, The Act of Killing, and Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay, all of which I hope to watch in the new year. Maybe We Steal Secrets: The Story of Wikileaks, but I did just watch the fictionalized / Cumberbatch-ized version, The Fifth Estate (not in time for the recap) and it was just okay.

 What I left off of the documentary recap (for space, mostly) were two other documentaries I saw in 2013 - Evocateur: The Morton Downey Jr. Movie and Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th. I feel like the latter should (and probably will) get its own post some time soon, but I thought we could spend this time together covering them as I think you would enjoy one or the other based on its subject matter.

 I remember The Morton Downey Jr. Show existing, kind of; I was still pretty young and it ran for less than two years, but the cultural impact of his talk show paved the way for Jerry Springer's three ring circus a decade later. He also played a version of himself on one of my favorite Tales from the Crypt episodes, "Television Terror," so I was interested to learn more about the man who never quite moved out of his father's shadow. Also, Evocateur begins by drawing parallels between Glen Beck and Morton Downey Jr. with "man on the street" interviews with Tea Party Patriots members and Downey audience members. And then it ends with a Downey-fied version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show's "Science Fiction Double Feature." What's not to like?

 Well, Morton Downey Jr., for starters. Whether his TV act was just that (an act) or not, there does seem to be a great disparity between the activist of the 1960s who wrote a book of poetry and supported the Kennedy's and the foul mouthed, caustic, abrasive radio turned talk show host who berated his guests until they walked out. Meanwhile, he took his show on the road and recorded a folk album with a long time friend (from what you hear in the movie, it's pretty terrible). The documentary covers Downey from all angles - friends who knew him before and during the show, executives, producers, audience members, and impressively, some of the guests. Alan Dershowitz and Gloria Steinem appear on camera and seem to have fond memories of sparring with Downey on the air.

 Not appearing, but a large part of the discussion, is the Reverend Al Sharpton, whose continued presence on the show during the Tawana Brawley case helped increase the prominence both of him and Downey. The legendary brawl at the Apollo Theater during one of Downey's live tour is given a new perspective from the point of view of the show bodyguard, who considered it to be more of a "party" than a riot. Throughout the documentary there's a discussion of what was real and what was exaggerated on the show and whether its host even believed what he was saying. Interspersed between are animated segments that reminded me a bit of American: The Bill Hicks Story, as well as readings from his book "Quiet Thoughts" Make the Loudest Noise (published under Sean Morton Downey). There's never a dull moment in the documentary, and worth checking out.

 Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th is the follow-up to Never Sleep Again: The Elm Street Legacy from Daniel Farrands, and at nearly seven hours, it would be hard to argue that it wasn't exhaustive and thorough. I liked it, but not as much as Never Sleep Again, and it's not so much that I enjoy A Nightmare on Elm Street more, but that I feel like Friday the 13th has been covered more often in different places.

 To start with, the documentary's title comes from Peter Bracke's excellent oral history of the films (a coffee table book you can still find on Amazon, by the way), but in addition to that, unlike most of the Nightmare DVDs and Blu-Rays, the Friday the 13th films have always had some degree of "making of" documentaries for each film, so there's a built in familiarity with some of the stories being told (in comparison, the only part of Never Sleep Again that I knew very well was the section about the first film). Crystal Lake Memories also (sparingly) re-purposes footage from His Name Was Jason, a much shorter Friday the 13th series documentary also directed by Farrands, and for Freddy vs. Jason, portions of Never Sleep Again (although the focus skews heavily on Jason this time, understandably).

 There's still a LOT to learn here, and like Never Sleep Again, my least favorite Friday entries often produce the best stories (parts V, VIII, and the remake). If you're a fan of the series who hasn't read or seen tons of anecdotes about Friday the 13th, there's going to be a lot to love here (and if you're lucky, maybe you can score a copy with the bonus disc that includes another 4 1/2 hours of additional interviews), but die hard fans should know that there's a good deal of ground covered here you already know, as entertaining as it is to hear again.

Where Have You Been?

This last section is designed to cover directors I'd been waiting to see follow-up well known (or at least, well liked by me) films or, in the case of one of them, return to making a style of movies most thought he'd long abandoned. In any other sense, these films have almost nothing in common, but you have to close out somewhere, right?

 I had been waiting for a long time for Shane Black's next film after the riotous, irreverent, clever take on detective films, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and finally got it in the form of Iron Man Three earlier in 2013. Like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, it takes place during Christmas, has deceptive narration, and doesn't take itself, the source material, or even the films that preceded it in the Marvel Universe too seriously. The last part was a serious sticking point for hard core Marvel fans, as Black's insouciant attitude towards The Mandarin soured many a fanboy and the internet is still screaming about how Black and Ben Kingsley "ruined" their favorite Iron Man villain.

 Black's sense of humor seems to mesh very well with Robert Downey Jr.'s "take nothing seriously" portrayal of Tony Stark, and the two were a fantastic pair in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang eight years ago, so I wasn't worried in the slightest about Iron Man Three. What surprised me was the other side of the coin: Stark is visibly traumatized by the battle at the end of The Avengers, has night terrors, and is obsessed with perfecting his armor in order to be ready for when (not if) it happens again. Instead of an alien invasion, Stark finds himself picking a fight with international terrorist The Mandarin (Kingsley) while Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) fends off the advances of Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce), a scientist who has his own history with Tony. Along for the ride are Colonel James Rhodes (Don Cheadle), re-branded as the Iron Patriot, and one of Killian's former associates, Maya Hansen (Rebecca Hall), who is more than a little worried about her boss's association with The Mandarin.

 Much credit is due to Black for doing two things you should never do: 1) keeping Stark out of the Iron Man armor for most of the middle of the movie and 2) introducing a kid "sidekick" for Tony during the same stretch of film. Not only is Stark forced to be more resourceful, but we see how he deals with someone that, in a million years, Tony would never pair up with but has no choice. And rather than being the typical obnoxious child, Haley (Ty Simpkins) goes toe-to-toe with Tony and their bickering manages to avoid most of the problems with involving a kid in the story.

 The film is loosely adapted from the Extremis story in Iron Man, but it's probably going to be remembered less for the balance of action and comedy and more for the introduction of The Mandarin and the (SPOILER) subsequent revelation that he's just an actor playing the part of a terrorist. Comic fans hated Black taking down the Mandarin mythos and revealing him just to be some guy hired to be the face of the operation, and I get it. It's a huge bait-and-switch and no amount of theorizing that "Trevor Slattery" is "actually really The Mandarin doing a double fake-out" is going to assuage taking the piss out of the villain.

 All the same, I must say I really enjoyed Iron Man Three (spelled that way in the closing credits, which means it's how you should address it, mmkay?) and Black's foray into the Marvel Universe. Based on interviews where he was asked, it sounds like he doesn't really want to do any more Marvel movies, so I look forward to whatever he's up to next. Let's just not take another eight years, if that's cool.

 While on the subject of Marvel directors, Joss Whedon surprised everybody in 2013 by revealing he had, mostly in secret, already completed his next film, an adaptation of William Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing. Filmed entirely at his house (where he staged regular Shakespeare readings with friends) and starring vast swaths of cast members from the Whedon-verse, Much Ado About Nothing is a breezy, enchanting modern take on the Bard that, thanks in large part to its location, brings a sense of intimacy to the story. It's also a marked contrast to The Avengers and Serenty in scope, and closer in execution (if not tone) to his television work.

 For those who didn't read the play in high school, here's as quick of a recap as I can give: Don Pedro (Reed Diamond) has arrived at the home of Leonato (Clark Gregg) after a successful campaign in battle, bringing along his brother, Don John (Sean Maher), and associates Benedick (Alexis Denisof) and Claudio (Franz Kranz). Claudio is taken with Leonato's daughter, Hero (Jillian Morgese) and hopes to marry her with the help of Don Pedro, and Benedick is a self professed bachelor who likes nothing more than to bicker with Hero's cousin, Beatrice (Amy Acker). Leonato and Don Pedro decide to conspire to bring Benedick and Beatrice together, with the help Claudio, Hero, and the rest of the house. Everything seems to be going well until Don John and his friends Conrade (Riki Lindhome) and Borachio (Spencer Treat Clark) decide to disparage the honor of Hero and ruin the wedding, but with the assistance of two bumbling offices, Verges (Tom Lenk) and Dogberry (Nathan Fillion), all might not be lost...

 Whedon makes an interesting decision at the beginning of Much Ado About Nothing to explicitly show Beatrice and Benedick's romantic history preceding the story, which is (maybe) hinted at in the play but never stated. It adds an additional layer to the banter between Acker and Denisof (who already had great chemistry on Angel, sorry but I am a nerd). It takes a moment to adjust to Shakespearan dialogue in American dialect (the last time I heard it presented that way was in the awful 2000 version of Hamlet), but once you've settled in the presentation and black and white photography seem perfectly natural. Whedon once again indulges in including a song in the film ("Say No More") and while he didn't write it, for some reason I just can't get into the presentation of music in any of his projects, which makes a critical scene early in the film more of an annoyance for me than it should be. But that, I know, is completely my issue and won't affect many of you at all. Just know that "Once More with Feeling" and Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog are not my favorite Whedon related projects. Technically I suppose Much Ado About Nothing is supposed to be a 2012 film, but there wasn't anywhere I could see it before 2013, so that's how I'm counting it. It's a welcome change of pace from an always unpredictable voice in geekdom.

 As divisive as Iron Man Three and Frances Ha are likely to be (for different reasons), I think Nicolas Winding Refn's Only God Forgives is going to take the cake. If you hated Drive (and I know several people who were quite vocal in their disagreement over its place in my 2011 "Best Of" list), you're really going to hate Only God Forgives. If you liked Drive (as I did and continue to), there's still a very good chance you're going to hate Only God Forgives. It's even less direct in where it is going, even more abstract in its storytelling, and even more withdrawn in its performances. The subject matter is consistently brutal and borderline abhorrent, and the violence is more extreme. There are no characters worth pulling for, and nobody really wins in the end. So that's your warning. That said, I think I really liked it. Didn't love it, but I'm pretty sure I really like it.

 Only God Forgives has less of a story than Drive, and that's saying something. Where Drive was a neo-noir that followed the wrong character (traditionally speaking, the Bryan Cranston character should have been the protagonist based on most noir conventions), Only God Forgives is a revenge film where the person seeking revenge a) doesn't want to and b) is grossly outmatched in his opponent, but he's been coerced into doing it, so things probably won't end well.

 Julian (Ryan Gosling) lives in Thailand with his brother Billy (Tom Burke), and runs a boxing club that's also a front for drug deals. Julian fancies himself a fighter while Billy has tastes that run... dark. While out one night, Billy decides to hire an underage prostitute and then kills her, which brings the attention of Chang (Vithaya Pansringarm), the "Angel of Vengeance" of the police force. Chang brings the girl's father to the scene of the crime, and allows him to kill Billy as retribution, but then cuts off the father's hands for not protecting his daughter in the first place. Crystal (Kristin Scott Thomas), arrives not long thereafter, and immediately begins browbeating Julian about the death of his brother. She's their mother, and has an unhealthy (at best) relationship with her boys, and a particularly strange attachment to Billy (let's just say she brings up their respective, *ahem* lengths while at dinner with Julian and a stripper he's pretending is his girlfriend).

 When Julian isn't acting fast enough in taking revenge, Crystal hires his associates to do the job and kill both the father and Chang, and it doesn't end well. Chang is a brutally efficient killer with a stringent moral code. When he's done committing horrific acts of justice, he sings karaoke. Julian has premonitions of losing his beloved hands to Chang, but is pressed onward by his warped mother (also revealed to be the boss behind the drug dealing) to murder the police officer. Julian tries to fight him and loses (badly), but presses on, even though no good can come of this.

 Every character in Only God Forgives is unlikeable, from the practically comatose Julian to the loathsome Billy to the repressive to the point of extreme outbursts Chang. Crystal is probably the worst of all of them, egging Julian on to kill someone he can't hope to defeat, but she's seeking retribution for her dead son. Then again, Julian's in Thailand because Crystal asked him to kill his own father and he did it. Nothing about Only God Forgives is pleasant, but there's a strangely hypnotic quality in Refn's opaque presentation of what little story there is. It's a march towards inevitability, to be sure, but one that transfixes. And one that most of you will find every bit as loathsome and unappealing as its protagonists.

 Ryan Gosling is nearly motionless for long stretches, to the point of appearing catatonic. Pansringarm is stoic, even during moments of violence, and the juxtaposition in the karaoke lounge doesn't waver much from that. On the other hand, the nearly unrecognizable Kristin Scott Thomas oozes malice and manipulates everyone in her sight, breaking the formality. I don't suppose the droning score will help, or the mostly neon lighting, or the long opening section (in what is a fairly short movie) where nothing happens. The only appeal, I suppose, is if you desperately need to see Ryan Gosling get his ass handed to him, because that does happen. Otherwise, I would proceed with caution - this is going to be a seriously divisive film for years to come.

 On the opposite side of the spectrum, I never thought I'd seen the David Gordon Green who made George Washington, All the Real Girls, and Undertow again. After Pineapple Express, Green seemed to be enjoying making high concept lowbrow comedies that people really didn't warm to, like Your Highness and his ill-advised remake of Adventures in Babysitting, The Sitter. For a stretch there, one could assume he was happy making comedies for major studios. But then again, you know what they say about assuming...

 To everybody's surprise, Green announced he'd already finished a new movie, filmed on the low down, and would be releasing it in 2013. Prince Avalanche, based on a Swedish film called Either Way, is David Gordon Green returning to minimalist storytelling, to his independent roots inasmuch as that's possible, and it's a fine return to form. I also didn't know Either Way existed, so there was no basis for comparison in my mind while watching it, if that's a mitigating factor for anybody.

 In the summer of 1988, after wildfires ravaged the Texas country side, Alvin (Paul Rudd) is working on repainting the roads out in rural areas. He brought along his girlfriend's younger brother, Lance (Emile Hirsch), in part because he asked but also because Lance is a "city boy." Alvin is surprised and disappointed that Lance has no idea how to fish or fend for himself, but Lance is just interested in getting to the weekend so he can go back to town and get laid.

 That is, without spoiling anything (if that's possible), the plot of Prince Avalanche. While there are a handful of other characters (a Truck Driver played by Lance DeGault and a mysterious Lady played by Joyce Payne), the film is largely a two man show. But boy howdy is it a joy to watch Paul Rudd and Emile Hirsch bounce off of each other for 90 minutes. Their relationship is predicated entirely on the fact that the older Alvin is dating the younger Lance's sister, and they listen with amusement to the other rambling on about their big plans. Alvin wants to learn German and move away, and he's saving up to make that happen, while Lance is excited to go to the not-quite Miss America pageant where he's pretty sure he can hook up with one of the losers.

 If you're in the mood for a small movie that's more character driven than narrative, I think you'll do very well to watch Prince Avalanche. With Rudd and Hirsch starring, I suppose it's somewhere between and "indie" movie and a major release (it's something I think we would have had at The Galaxy), and it's the best thing Green's done since Pineapple Express. And if you didn't like that, I'd happily tell you this is as good as All the Real Girls, if even more limited in scope. That's not a bad thing, by the way. Prince Avalanche also makes me want to seek out Either Way, which is something to do between now and Green's next film, Joe,  another drama with Nicolas Cage. Count me in.

 This is it. We've finally made it to the end of the middle, as strange as that sounds. All that remains now are the final twelve, the best of the best. My favorite movies of 2013, and as we've built towards them, you can imagine how enthused I am to share them with you. Most of them I've already seen more than once, and I've been driving my friends crazy for the last three months to see all of them. But that you must wait a little bit longer for. Not too long, but a little suspense will do you good...