Fright Night

*****

Two Stars Out of Five 

This past weekend was one of failed remakes. Conan the Barbarian bombed at the box office, and while that wasn’t exactly a remake, per se, it shares its title with another film, and covers similar(ish) ground. Fright Night did even worse financially, which was a bit of a shock, really, as I expected it to be a hit with the teenage crowd who doesn’t know their mouths from their asses, and will pay shitloads of money involving anything with vampires and/or horror. All in all, it was a pretty sad weekend for remakes, but dorks and douche bags throughout the world are undoubtedly celebrating the fact that two films that attempted to “rape their childhoods” failed so miserably.

I’ve covered my feelings towards remakes in the past, so I’m not going to retread similar ground now. Instead, I’ll just actually try to objectively review Fright Night for all my fans. All two of you. Or one. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my readers jumped from the sinking ship that is known as my non-start career in offering pointless opinions about movies.

But before I can start the review proper, a bit of history is in order. So put on your powdered wig, and let’s take a trip all the way back to… 1985. ‘Twas a time of antiquity. Motley Crue was ridiculously popular, hairy pubes were in vogue, bright neon-colored clothing was worn by all the hip kids, malls were heavily populated, and Twilight was but a twinkle in the eye of Stephanie Meyers. Horror movies were predictable (still are), and most of the genre films were horrible (still are, which is a right shame). Along came Fright Night, which hilariously played with genre conventions by tossing in some humor, intelligent subtext, and a witty twist to the whole Rear Window thing. Teenage Charlie spies his new neighbor up to no good (chances are when you just read “up to no good” you idiosyncratically started singing the rest of the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” theme song. No? Just me? Well, it’s better than singing myself to sleep every night with the “Growing Pains” theme). He’s quickly convinced that his handsome playboy of a neighbor is indeed a vampire. Lots of tomfoolery, malarkey, shenanigans, and rigamarole ensue. The movie, which had one of the best VHS covers in history, was awesome. As I mentioned, the film offered ample amounts of humor, poking fun at the genre is was lovingly embracing, and included some great subtext about closeted homosexuality (I’m looking at you, Evil Ed), and the inherent fears of a young adolescent discovering his sexuality and being threatened by a much more experienced, better looking adult. The film has only gotten better with age, and a remake seemed unnecessary, but since I enjoy Colin Farrell and horror/comedy hybrids, I was willing to give the remake a chance.

"Yeah, I know Miami Vice sucked. My bad."

Too bad, then, that it kind of sucked. If you’ve read my Conan the Barbarian review (and I just know you have), you’ll remember that I said that the worst kind of bad movie is the forgettable kind; the type that doesn’t do anything particularly memorable. Well, the new Fright Night is just such an example. The film doesn’t do anything that its predecessors haven’t done way better, and in trying to be a horror-comedy, it fails to succeed at either. Gone is the subtext from the original, and in its place is… well, nothing, really.

The film is just kind of void of any real personality. Any time it starts to pick up steam with a couple of funny one-liners or an interesting situation, it shifts to something else without maintaining any forward momentum. I really think the most exciting part of the entire movie for me was watching the Las Vegas skyline, which is unfortunate, because if I want that, I can watch “Las Vegas” reruns on TNT every day at 11 am and noon.

And, well, I guess I have a really weird pet peeve about the way Hollywood depicts high school. Maybe I went to a weird high school in which there weren’t really all that many bullies (none that I can even remember, actually), and that social circles weren’t strictly enforced. Yeah, the kids who played Magic: The Gathering generally stuck to themselves, but it’s not like they received beatings daily for playing a card game. In Hollywood, though, if you’re not banging a hot cheerleader, a football stud, have a $300 haircut, drive a muscle car, and smoke dope, you’re a square, and you’re going to get the living shit beaten out of you. The movie lost me really early on, because Charlie (Anton Yelchin, who is so-so) has turned his back on his best bud “Evil” Ed (McLovin – I’m not even going to type out his real name, since you know who that is) and their fun, geeky ways in order to climb the all-important high school social ladder. Charlie can’t even talk to Ed, for fear of facing scrutiny from his new friends, and that just wreeks of tired clichés. So, there are standard Hollywood high schoolers – the cool guys, the hot chicks, and the dweebs. And, y’know, just like real life, when the dweeb skateboards down the cool kid’s street, he gets beaten up. Makes sense, right?

Horrible clichés aside, even that would be okay if it were maybe played up a bit. Perhaps the film could focus on the subtext of being an outsider, of feeling alienated, and maybe even using that as a way to sympathize with Jerry (Colin Farrell, who is sufficient, but doesn’t do much to spread his thespian wings). But no. Instead, the film just keeps on chugging along, skipping from one spot to the next without developing the characters, or giving the audience much to care about. Charlie is dating a cute girl named Amy (Imogen Poots, which is arguably the weirdest name for anyone ever) and she has about as much character as the for sale signs populating Charlie’s street. She’s cute, though, so I guess that’s supposed to be enough. Charlie himself is pretty much a shithead. It was impossible for me to want to cheer for the guy, considering he abandoned his best friend and lifestyle all for a bit of the ole’ poon. But I guess you have to play by the Hollywood rules of high school, and nobody is going to screw a guy who hangs out with McLovin.

MINDFREAK!

Once the proverbial shit hits the fan, Charlie seeks out help from Peter Vincent (David Tennant, easily the highlight of the movie) who is a Las Vegas magician and supposed vampire hunter. His presence makes some sort of sense, considering how he’s portrayed, and the original Peter Vincent from the original Fright Night just wouldn’t have worked. In the original, Peter Vincent was the host of a weekly show which played old horror movies (think Joe Bob Briggs or Elvira, but older and clearly less buxom). Vincent is a cliché magician, equal parts Criss Angel douchebaggery and Russell Brand hubris, and he’s actually quite funny. But, of course, as soon as things start to get interesting with him, the story shifts quickly away from him, and we’re back in the dull shit again.

My two biggest gripes with the entire movie are this: the horrible special effects, and the utter lack of suspense. The vampire effects for Colin Farrell are simply bush league. I’m talking I Am Legend bad. I can’t, for the life of me, understand why filmmakers are so hesitant to use practical effects like prosthetics, but I guess that’s just where we are in society. It really looks like shit, though. And as far as the lack of suspense, I would have liked to have a bit more “is he actually a vampire?” type of dialogue between Charlie and everyone else, or even have him question himself at least once. Charlie is told Jerry’s a vampire, and minutes later, he’s sold on it. There’s nothing to make him question his sanity or anything, which is a boring shame. I get that they want to push the movie forward quickly, but it’s all just underway before it even gets much of a chance to get started.

I am supremely disappointed in this movie. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected so much out of it, but I did. It was reviewed quite well (74% on Rotten Tomatoes), and I heard from several peers that it was just brilliant. I wanted to like it – any time a movie portrays vampires as a threat and not pussified Twilight vampires, it instantly interests me – but I just couldn’t. Between the horrible clichés of high school students, absolutely no characters to give a shit about, no character development, and bad special effects, there just wasn’t there for me to like.

It’s a shame that this is probably going to be my last review for a while – school starts in a week – and the review just so happened to be for a movie that didn’t particularly tickle my fancy. But hey, I watch the shitty ones so you don’t have to, right? So, go ahead and do yourself a favor: track down the original. It’s damn great, and it’s light years ahead of this one.

G'bye!

Conan the Barbarian

**1/2***
Two and a Half Stars Out of Five

There are several types of bad movies. There are bad movies that are doomed from the get-go; you see them, and you know that there was no salvaging that particular project. It's shit, it will always be shit, and it was always going to be shit (think From Justin to Kelly - there was no saving that movie - and you'll get the idea). Then, there are movies that, for some odd reason, just never fully clicked. Everything that needed to come together just somehow didn't, and you're left with a bit of a mess. A good movie exists somewhere inside of the current picture, but it just couldn't escape. There are two other types of bad movies (don't worry, I'll tell you what they are): bad movies that aren't really all that bad, they're just rather forgettable. They don't do anything to separate themselves from the crowd. They're just... there. Then, there are really, really, really bad movies that you see that you'll never be able to forget because they were so terrifically horrible. It takes a lot of shit going wrong to have one of those bad boys on your hands, and it's not often that one makes it into cinemas. They're bad, but at least they're memorable. There's certainly something to be said for that, right?

Unfortunately, Conan the Barbarian is a bad movie that has a good one somewhere inside it trying to sneak out, and it's also not bad enough to be memorable. It's ultimately rather forgettable. Which is sad. Because I wanted it to be a lot better. I wanted it to be the feel-good-testosterone-fueled-decapitation-filled movie of the summer. I wanted a movie that made me want to grow a hairy chest, to chew tobacco, and come home and force my woman to make love to me, afterward having her call me her Apollo God of Sexy Love Time Sex (I'm using hyperbole for at least one of those actions listed above. You decide which ones). Basically, I wanted a movie to make me feel like a strong man, which I'm admittedly not. I wanted something like Predator, or 300 (don't laugh - you thought that movie was bad-ass until everyone liked it and you decided to hate it because you're pathetic). Instead, I got... bleh. And bleh is the worst type of movie you can possibly make, because it doesn't mean anything to anyone. Ya dig? You dig.

Good god, he's handsome.

So, I suppose I should address the plot, even though I didn't give a flying tit about it, nor did I even want to. Conan is a Cimmerian, which shouldn't mean anything to you. Basically, he's a viking who was born on a battlefield and his mom dies. His dad (Ron Perlman, clearly cashing a paycheck) raises him to be a warrior stud. But before Conan can come of age, his dad is killed by some douche-nozzle named Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang, continuing his asshole phase from Avatar). Zym is trying to get a bunch of separate pieces of this helmet thing that will make him a god or something, and Conan's dad has the last piece. Because, you know, anytime you don't want someone to put together a helmet that possesses the ability to make someone a god, you hide the separate pieces instead of destroying them. That makes sense.


So, Zym puts the helmet back together, but now he needs a "pureblood" girl to bleed into it. It's not what you think - it's got nothing to do with a virgin menstruating into the helmet to activate the god powers, even though that would be way cooler for some strange reason - the pureblood is, I guess, the ancestor of the dickweeds who created the helmet and then hid the pieces throughout the known world. Again, this opens things up a bit for interesting subplots, because you would assume that the pureblood is an inbred individual who had devolved into a grade-A dipshit, but no. It's an attractive nun. Or something. Named Tamara. I know what you're thinking now: Tia and Tamara from "Sister-Sister" right? But there is no Tia around, so you can kiss your hopes of a "Sister-Sister" TV show crossover with Conan the Barbarian. Maybe we'll finally get to see that in a sequel, but I doubt it. So Zym hunts for the gal with the blood while Conan grows up to be a bad-ass of the highest order, still yearning for revenge.

Good god, he's tough-looking.

As luck would have it, Conan (Jason Momoa, who is a huge bad-ass and is easily the highlight of the movie)
comes across Zym in a roundabout way, and he also falls in with Tamara (Rachel Nichols) because she's caught right square in the middle of the whole pissfest. So, in addition to getting revenge on the man who killed his father, Conan now kinda-sorta has to save the world, and the hot inbred chick who's blood Zym needs. Oh yeah, and there might be an incestuous relationship going on between Zym and his gothic/hideous daughter Marique (Rose McGowan in what is easily the worst performance of the year). So, there's a lot of shit going on, but none of it outside of Conan wanting revenge makes a whole lot of sense, nor is it remotely engaging.

The cast is okay, but outside of Jason Momoa, nobody seems to be giving a shit. Momoa is a buff, attractive fella who certainly is the right guy for the role of Conan, and he does the best with what he has, but that's really not that much. The man oozes charisma, toughness, energy, and machismo, but it's just not enough to save the movie. I feel bad for the guy, because based on interviews, he seems to be a great guy who really loves the character of Conan. Hopefully he gets a chance to do something better with him someday. Stephen Lang is efficient as Zym, bringing nothing to the table, nor taking anything off of it. Ditto for Nichols, who is pretty and... a bit feisty, maybe. But that's about it. Same with everyone in the cast, except for Rose  McGowan who is so jaw-droppingly awful as Marique that I couldn't believe it was the same person who so awesomely played Cherry Darling in Planet Terror. It seems she forgot that she wasn't in a comedy/camp film and decided to fuck around the set by being a horrible caricature of every witch ever. Her ineptitude in the role would be laughable if it weren't so sad, and frankly, the less said about her performance, the better we'll all be.

Good god, she's awful.

The action scenes are capable, but nothing special. Sure, there's a bit of arterial spray and lots of the good crimson stuff spurting across the screen, but again, nothing memorable. Credit to director Marcus Nispel for
finding a way to frame a tremendously handsome and strong Momoa in such a bland way in battle sequences. Also, I owe a debt to the editor for doing such a great job of ensuring that several of the action scenes are incomprehensible thanks to ADHD-influenced camera cuts. Whoever thought this was a good idea deserves to be fired from cinema permanently, as it makes no damn sense whatsoever. I like to see my action scenes, and to be able to compute just what the hell is going on, thank you very much. Some of the action scenes are pretty good, with Momoa again being the highlight, since he has a feral presence, and he moves very gracefully with a sword. Just know that it's nothing too great, and you'll probably forget all the action scenes minutes after you watch them.

I mentioned Marcus Nispel, the director, above. He should be awarded something for being the director of remakes that absolutely nobody was particularly clamoring for. The man is responsible for Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003), Friday the 13th, (2009), and now this, which is, of course a remake of the Ahnuld classic from 1982, which was inspired by the legendary Robert E. Howard (whose pulp writings don't have much in common with any of the films based on them). While Texas Chainsaw Massacre was utterly forgettable aside from Jessica Biel's ever-shrinking t-shirt, I remember that it had really good sound. So, that's good. I guess. And I actually loved Friday the 13th  because it was an open love letter to the slasher genre, which I am an unabashed fan of. He struck the balance between humor and horror brilliantly, and tossed in a buttload of boobies to boot. I loved it. But still, three remakes? I don't hate remakes like so many people do, because I believe they can offer something different if they're done correctly. But three remakes is a lot. Come on, man. Spread your wings. Create something unique. Grow a beard, move to Soho, and do a little art flick. Shit, I think I just gave him the idea to remake Eraserhead. Sorry, in advance, gang.

The really sad part is, I do think that there is a good movie in there trying to get out (kinda like the attractive girls in high school who slutted it up with everyone but you, and then had three kids before dropping out of community college and then going back to get their associates degrees in Communications got super-fat, but their hotness still kinda sneaks out every once in a while when you see them at bars and old, newly-divored 40 year-olds are buying them drinks). If a better crew had been attached, or maybe somebody who had cared more about the characters, or maybe an editor who wasn't coked out of his head had worked on it, it would have been better. As it stands, this is all we've got. And it's not horrible. But it's certainly not any good. Sorry, Mr. Momoa - you deserved better than this.

But, I always like to end on a positive note. So here's a .gif of Ahnuld-Conan looking like a fuckwit. Toodles!

 

 

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

*****
Four Stars Out of Five

"You'll go positively ape for this movie!"

"There sure are a lot of monkeyshines in this flick!"

"The apes use a special type of gorilla warfare against the humans..."

"Don't monkey around, and go see this movie."

And so on and so forth, et cetera, et cetera.

Now, for the review. Kind of.

It doesn't seem like a decade has passed since Tim Burton's craptastic remake/"reinvisioning" of the 1968 sci-fi classic, Planet of the Apes. I remember taking my older brother to the movie for his birthday, because it happened to be released that day. I also bought him a hideous red Planet of the Apes shirt with black velour lettering on it at the video store I worked at. A few pictures of him in this shirt, and sporting blond tips in his hair, still exist. I remember loving the living shit out of that movie when I saw it, thinking that it was the most mind-blowing thing I'd ever seen. Then, I watched it again, thinking this time I could keep my mind from being blown because I could follow the story and see how the twist ending happened. I couldn't figure it out. It's not because I'm stupid - I may be, but that's not the point here - but because the movie didn't make a lick of fucking sense. In my weird, 16 year-old mind, I confused bad storytelling with mind-blowing storytelling, and seeing the movie again helped me to distinguish the two.

There's not much worth remembering from Tim Burton's interpretation of Planet of the Apes; in fact, it is a great example of shitty, overblown blockbusters from the earliest part of the new millennium: take an artsy-fartsy director, give him a good-looking guy for a leading man, regardless of whether or not he can carry a film on his own (Mark Wahlberg), use a shitload of money on special effects, take a stupid screenplay, and turn it into a movie. The shittiness of the movie held Wahlberg back for a few years, and only now is he starting to act in movies that are made for him, instead of shoehorning himself into a starring role even if it doesn't work (think Colin Farrel, and you've got the right idea). Regardless, the movie was, and still is, a pile of shit, and even though it made a bunch of money, it never kickstarted the franchise the way 20th Century Fox wanted it to (maybe that's because the ending didn't make ANY. FUCKING. SENSE.).

So, ten years have passed, and Fox decided to give the ailing franchise this decade's remake - a reboot! Look around summer tentpole blockbusters for the last couple, and next few, years and you'll see a slew of reboots on display: The Amazing Spider-Man, Batman Begins, The Incredible Hulk (only a few years in between Hulk flicks, setting a record for reboots), The Man of Steel, X-Men: First Class, and Rise of the Planet of the Apes. I don't inherently hate the idea of reboots, as I think it gives filmmakers a fresh start due to head-scratching continuity issues, aging actors, and story constraints. I understand a lot of people see this is simply just a cash-grab by the studios, but really, what isn't? Movie companies make movies to make money. Don't be silly, people! And I was more than willing to let a new Planet of the Apes movie restart the franchise, as the continuity is so far up it's own ass that it could easily be called "Planet of the Asses" or something similarly sophomoric in humor. I loved the original, but I hated Burton's take, so I was hopeful for this new flick, but also approached it with trepidation, because it could just have easily been another shitstorm of apes and humans fighting one another.

First, the bad news: the title is really long. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (or, what I shall call ROTPATA for the duration of this review, and even that is longer than a lot of titles) is a horrible title. And misleading. The film isn't necessarily about the world being overrun by highly evolved apes, but rather, it's about one ape in particular named Caesar (motion-captured by the amazingly talented Andy Serkis) and his relationship with humans. While the title does a good job of keeping the franchise attached to it, and letting the audience know that this is a "year one" version of apes becoming the dominant species of the world, I wouldn't be surprised if people watched this movie and thought that the title was used to shamelessly earn more money from name recognition.

The good news: the movie is really good. ROTPOTA ignores everything that has come before it in the long-running series, and also many of the typical story beats that a summer action blockbuster is supposed to hit. Whiz-bang action is substituted for heartfelt drama, character growth, and doomed relationships. It's quite a shock, actually, to have a bunch of emotion in a flick that most people just assume will be filled with angry apes and bloodied humans. Even more shocking is that the character that we come to care a lot about is an ape, and just how much we feel for him as the story unfolds.

The film opens with a science lab testing Alzheimer's cures on apes. Before Dr. Will Rodman (James Franco, teetering between "paycheck-mode" and "I-actually-want-to-be-here" forms of acting) can get the cure fully funded and approved by his overseers, one ape goes, well, ape-shit (see what I did there? YES!). The board of directors get a front row seat of watching an ape run amok and being shot to death and they make their decision to cease research on the wonder-drug. It turns out that the angry ape, Bright Eyes, had just given birth, and went nutso to protect her young. It doesn't matter much, because clearly people who are boards of directors don't know diddly-squat about apes (they are wont to violent outbursts, in spite of their cuteness), and Will is forced to sneak the baby chimp home with him.

Before I go any further, I would like to note that the plot certainly borrows quite liberally from Deep Blue Sea, in which a group of scientists are testing an Alzheimer's cure on sharks, only to have the sharks gain intelligence and go all sharky on everybody. It's surprising that everything lines up so similarly between the movies, as both lead scientists have fathers struggling with the disease, and dangerous animals are being tested on. At least ROTPOTA includes animals that share quite a bit in common with humans, and Deep Blue Sea ROTPOTA proves that smart filmmaking with a focus on emotion and drama can make a good film when compared to a similar plot in a film that uses about as much restraint as a seven year-old at Chuck E. Cheese. uses sharks because, well... sharks are fun to watch eat shit. If anything,

Shortly after bringing the baby ape home, Will's father names him Caesar. It becomes clear quite quickly that Caesar inherited the biological changes from his mother, and Will notices how intelligent he is. Caesar is raised as a son to Will and is taught a significant amount of sign language. Caesar, like any rambunctious child, grows ever curious to the world around him, getting him into a fair bit of trouble, and also leading him to question his place in the world. He knows he's not human, but he's been raised as one, and is certainly smarter than many humans. This alienation serves as the major thrust of the film, and it is brilliantly done thanks to the special effects team and Andy Serkis, the motion-capture actor who portrays Caesar. Not one ape in the entire film is "real." They're all motion-capture actors, and it actually changes the way I perceive special effects. We've been led to believe that special effects need to perfectly mirror reality if they are to be seen as successful. The apes here, though, look really good, but not perfect. But the special effects allow something that could never be possible with actual apes - it allows them to have real emotions and facial expressions. The special effects in any movie tend to be there to just be there, but they serve an important storytelling purpose here, and it is absolutely a tremendous achievement in filmmaking.

After it becomes clear that Will's father (John Lithgow) is falling to Alzheimer's, Caesar becomes protective of his surrogate grandfather. One afternoon, in a haze, Will's father attempts to drive his neighbor's Mustang, and the results are predictably bad. The man, a grade-A asshole, begins to berate the confused old man, and assaulting him. Caesar witnesses this from his bedroom window, and jumps into action, attacking the man and biting off his finger. The outside world sees this, and Will is forced to put Caesar into an ape sanctuary.

This is where the story gets heartbreaking. Caesar doesn't understand why he's being taken away from his family, and worse, the place he is forced to live is run by inhumane assholes who terrorize the apes. Caesar is alone, as he is viewed as an outsider by both humans and the apes he lives with. The majority of the second act of the film plays out like a silent film, in which we follow Caesar, and we see how he adjusts to realizing that he is an ape that is viewed as inferior to humans. Eventually, Caesar's intellect reveals him to be the alpha of the apes, and he uses his intelligence to escape and expose the other apes to the drug that will transform them into being super-intelligent apes.

I've already raved about the special effects and Andy Serkis' awesome performance, but enough great things cannot be said about them. Serkis has been the king of mo-cap for years, thanks to his performances as Gollum in Lord of the Rings, and as Kong in King Kong, but he elevates his game here to an art form. Serkis will absolutely be ignored by the awards committees when the time comes, but he shouldn't be. He does something that not many actors do anymore - he transforms himself completely into his character, and he conveys his emotions through facial expressions and body language alone. And then there's the fact that he actually, you know, moves around like a chimp for two hours perfectly! Serkis is the star of the show, and that's saying something, as you never actually see his face.

Of course, the movie isn't perfect. There are a few missteps here and there, like the typically dickish, money-grubbing boss that Will Rodman must contend with, and the ape sanctuary employees are assholes because the story needs them to be. There are a slew of easter eggs and nods to the other films in the franchise, especially one line in particular that just doesn't fit (thankfully it is quickly eclipsed by the crazy dramatic scene just seconds later, but still). But overall, this is one of the best films of the year thus far. I was incredibly surprised by how much I enjoyed this film, and also just how much I cared for Caesar and his issues. I was thrilled to see the film have a successful opening weekend (about $20 million more grossed than they anticipated) because it helps ensure a sequel, and also serves notice to filmmakers that Hollywood blockbusters can be entertaining, yet also emotional and thought-provoking. Check it out!

Also, check out this gif of a kung-fu chimp!