Gravity Pulls You In And Never Let’s Go!

I’d been looking forward to Gravity since the first teaser trailers appeared last year, teasers that became more frequent as the launch date for Alfonso Cuarón’s space opera drew ever nearer. Usually, when I see a film giving such advanced notice my skeptical nature expects the worst. If a film is good it will speak for itself, no hyping necessary. Today however, after seeing Gravity in 3D I’m made to wonder if that campaign begun so many months ago was hype or a warning to all other films this fall, saying: “Don’t Bother – We’ve already got you beat!” From its breathtaking opening shot to the final, awe-inspiring frame, Gravity is that truly great film of 2013 for which many of us have been waiting.

The story itself could not be simpler: stranded astronauts must survive and find a way to safely return to Earth. Resources are scarce for Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Kowalski (George Clooney), who find themselves adrift 600 km above the Earth after a catastrophic cascade of debris pulverizes their shuttle and cuts off all communications with mission control. The two embark on a desperate journey through a vacuous non-environment to the International Space Station where they hope to use a Russian space craft as their life boat down to terra firma. Sounds simple enough, but the themes of isolation and re-birth after tragedy are explored and superbly integrated into Stone and Kowalski’s characters.

Sandra Bullock deserves high praise for her performance as mission specialist Dr. Ryan (her father wanted a boy) Stone. Dedicating herself to a six month fitness regimen, spending countless hours reviewing the script with Cuarón while blocking this picture’s sometimes intricate action; Bullock proves she’s not just a movie star, she is an actress. One scene that stays with me has no eye-popping visuals or intensely implied danger; it is simply Bullock, as Stone, communicating with someone on Earth who cannot speak English. A cinematically sedate scene, it is nevertheless emotionally charged. This unknown inhabitant of planet Earth plays with his dog and sings his daughter to sleep while Dr. Stone listens and we feel her loneliness, her torment, hopelessness. A well-written scene beautifully performed by the talented Miss Bullock. I can’t help but wonder whether she can look forward to a second Academy Award for this performance as the resilient Dr. Stone.

Visually, Alfonso Cuarón – whose films include 2006’s Children of Men and Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) – has crafted one of the most striking visions I’ve seen since the passing of Stanley Kubrick. Utilizing top drawer CGI and green screen compositing, Cuarón takes us on a ride that goes well beyond convincing; it comes precariously close to inducing vertigo! The opening scene, for example, is roughly 15 minutes of drifting into close-ups and out to long shots while orbiting high above Earth. If these uncompromised, gracefully dynamic visual stylings have a drawback, it is one shared with films like The Blair witch Project: the non-stop motion becomes almost nauseating at times. That said though, there is absolutely no other downside to the experience of Gravity, it is truly a cinematic masterpiece whose imagery aspires to, and handily achieves, epic proportions.

Gravity’s innovative sound design must be celebrated hand-in-hand with its’ outstanding visual achievements. There is no sound in space because there is no air to carry the sonic waves. Yet rather than have a film that lapsed between dead silence and tinny radio transmissions - with their cliché *beep*s – Cuarón challenged accepted norms. He recognized that while sound may not travel in space, it would certainly travel within the confines of spacesuits. The result is a new aural concept: motors and impacts, large and small, can now be heard in space, but they sound like motors and impacts underwater, muted by a medium not altogether friendly to the conveyance of sound. Brilliant. I can’t decide whether Cuarón deserves an Oscar or a Nobel Prize for this film. 

At the time of this writing Gravity has conquered its’ third straight weekend ruling the box office. Small wonder. Sure, there are some liberties taken with the distances between orbiting objects and platforms, but let’s just call that poetic license. Cuarón’s 90 minute epic is an edge-of-your-seat adventure that has reset the standards of space-borne drama. The man’s vision is an intimate tale played against the grand canvas of space. Gravity is a big screen must-see, because no television DVD, Blu-Ray or VOD viewing will ever do this spectacle justice. If fact, I may see it again myself, and I haven’t doubled-up on a film since I was a teenager. My compliments, Senor Cuarón, bravo!

Riddick The Inter-Stellar Bad-Ass Is Back!

            Previously, in The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Vin Diesel’s outlaw anti-hero eluded capture, battled on inhospitable planets and became king of a gothic army of baddies known as Necromongers. Despite a massive budget, intensive marketing and a cameo by Dame Judy Dench, the picture was poorly received on all fronts. Diesel fans, including myself, looked forward to the strongly implied sequel to that film; however, when what was hoped would be the launching of a major new franchise fizzled, Riddick was left with his Necromonger  hoards, all dressed up and no green light to go. The ensuing scrapping of the franchise was, in my opinion, a blessing in disguise.

While it is intriguing to imagine what Riddick would do with his own army of darkness, the truth is this character is not a leader; he’s a loner outcast in the tradition of a High Plains Drifter or Mad Max. The first steps in rebooting a Riddick franchise had to be dumping the weird armored heavies and re-establishing the solitary anti-hero. Both tasks were accomplished quickly and believably in Riddick by having Vaako (Karl Urban) lure the outlaw king from his throne with the promise of finding his home world Furya, only to abandon him on a desolate planet we’ll call “Not Furya”. And so, Riddick is reborn, unchained from the problematic trappings of his last outing.

            The first half hour or more of Riddick is virtually a silent film, showing the man himself living a Robinson Crusoe existence on “Not Furya”. He sets his own broken leg, injects the venom of a giant scorpion-like creature into himself to become desensitized before vanquishing the beast; and through flashbacks and voice-over brings us up to date on Vaako and the Necromongers. This introverted first act was effective; it re-introduced the title character and his abilities while also distancing this story from the previous film’s baggage.

            The plot takes off in earnest when Riddick realizes that a slowly approaching rain storm brings serious trouble. He activates the distress beacon of an abandoned outpost and soon finds himself again evading capture from not one but two teams of bounty hunters. One is a group of scruffy bad asses loosely lead by Santana (Jordi Mollà). The other group is professionally uniformed, slick and lead by Boss Johns (Matt Nable) and the brawny Dahl (Katee Sackoff). Riddick plays it straight and tough from the start letting his hunters know they’re all in danger and need to vacate the planet...Why doesn’t anyone ever listen? Oh yeh, Santana wants the fortune offered for Riddick’s head and Boss Johns wants to know the fate of his son, William Johns (Cole Hauser), who died a coward’s death in Pitch Black (2000).

Riddick is good science fiction in that the alien worlds and creatures are imaginative, though it’s hardly on the same level as 2001: A Space Odyssey. It should go without saying that this is not the sort of film one judges by the same standards as Oscar contenders or small Indie Productions. Some films are watched for fun and escapism alone, or for some quick vicarious thrills. Riddick knows what it is supposed to be, and doesn’t try or pretend to be anything more than an action adventure film; and on that level, it succeeds.

Apparently Vin Diesel acquired the rights to re-boot the Riddick franchise himself as part of his agreement to appear in more Fast & Furious films; as a fan, I’m glad he did. I have also been following, for years Diesel’s plans to make an epic biopic about Hannibal, the Carthaginian who crossed the Alps to attack Rome in the third century B.C. Who knows, that picture could be Diesel’s Braveheart, though that’s a bold expectation. Until then, fans of the shaved-headed, Gen-X answer to Clint Eastwood will have to be content with Riddick, two solid hours of rock ‘em / sock ‘em entertainment.

It really shouldn’t be a spoiler to say that Riddick makes it safely off of Not Furya re-invested in the search for his home, leaving the door open for a new high-concept Sci-Fi franchise. Personally, I look forward to following Riddick on his odyssey to Furya. I doubt I’m alone, and I know it’ll be decent, escapist fun. Diesel’s third turn in one of his most famous roles is not just adrenalin-infused candy for his fans, though, but is truly for anyone who can enjoy a good ride at the movies.

Pints, Punch Ups and WTFs?! at The World’s End

            It’s hard to recapture past glory, live up to our youthful potential and/or the expectations others have of us. These hobgoblins of the adult psyche, which we sense most acutely as middle-age approaches, plague not only Gary King (Simon Pegg) but the film he dominates: The World’s End. Not that this latest release from the team of Simon Pegg and director Edgar Wright is bad, no, far from it!  However, this high-energy comedy feels a lot like Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life; hilarious yet forced, lacking that spark which made its predecessors so outlandishly enjoyable.

            Story-wise, The World’s End is essentially an Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake, with the feel of having been written between questions at a pub quiz. Gary King, a man stuck in perpetual teen-aged rebellion, gathers four old friends to their sleepy hometown of Newton Haven to conquer an epic pub crawl they bungled some 20 odd years earlier. The night starts with Gary’s mates, Andy (Nick Frost), Peter (Eddie Marsen), Steve (Paddy Considine) and Oliver (Martin Freeman) all basically humoring their “loser” pal from the past. Thankfully, just as the rebukes and relationships edge towards genuine adult drama, this film launches into its true nature: an apocalyptic sci-fi comedy. The five friends find themselves running from pub to pub (it’s their only plan) evading blue blooded non-robot simulants of the townsfolk. These “simulants” are put together like life-sized G.I. Joe and Barbie dolls (or Action Man if you’re reading this in the UK), a concept both imaginative and disturbing. It seems while everyone was off building grown-up lives complete with careers, kids and divorces; and Gary was off doing, well nothing really; a quiet alien invasion has been taking place not only in Newton Haven, but all over the world!

Ultimately, it is up to a very drunk Gary to make the case for mankind and convince the homogenizing and exceedingly polite aliens that Earth doesn’t want to be groomed to join their galactic community. Gary’s words speak not only of humanity but of himself as well: yes we’re uncouth; yes we’ve spent much of our time on the planet so far screwing around; and yes, we know what’s best for us and we still don’t do it! BUT we want to be free, to do what we want to do, to have fun and get loaded and, well who the hell are you to tell us what we should be or do?! Piss off!

            Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright have said The World’s End is the conclusion of a trilogy with their previous films, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. The connective tissue between the three is evident and there is a full-circle sense of finality to The World’s End. I will miss this team that made zombies funny, British coppers bad-asses and a pub crawl a world saving odyssey. Perhaps destiny will reunite Pegg and Wright; it was all over with Meaning of Life but it wasn’t with Return of the Jedi. (Hmm, Cornetto Wars, Episode One, The Phantom Whippy?)

The World’s End is great fun, with rapid fire humor, fights with life-sized action figure people and good running gags; but it is hardly the back-of-the-net goal that was the first romantic comedy with zombies. This film came dangerously close to being boring, with a group of friends gathering, re-opening old wounds and dealing with the perennial under-achiever. The first thirty minutes or so dragged as we got to know who these five were, have evolved into and what subtle animosities they harbor for one another. Thankfully, good action, comedy and solid writing came through in the third act and all that early, banal dialogue even turned out to be important. Maybe I’m being too hard on Pegg and Wright because of my unrealistic expectations of their work. It is hard to live up to your potential and other people’s expectations, especially once you’ve created a reputation for excellence. Like Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, Pegg & Wright’s “Blood and Ice Cream” finale may be damned to be an under-appreciated good time, judged by fans more for its failings than for its accomplishments.