My “Avatar” review from December 2009. The film is being re-released into theatres this weekend in advance of the release of the sequel “Avatar: The Way of Water,” which will be in theatres on December 16, 2022.
*****
In the gap between James “King of the World” Cameron’s last theatrical feature, “Titanic,” and his new film, “Avatar” (in theatres this weekend) Clint Eastwood directed 11 movies, Michael Bay made 6 and even Uwe Boll, a director so reviled there is an on–line petition to prevent him from making any more films, has made fifteen in the time it took Cameron to make just one, but it’s quite a movie.
“Avatar,” based on an original idea by Cameron, is set in the 22nd century on a small planet called Pandora. Under the lush terra firma is a valuable mineral much sought after by the Avatar program—a collaboration between industry and military. Since the climate and atmosphere aren’t hospitable to humans a substitute for homosapien invaders is required. That would be living, breathing avatars of the Pandorian natives, controlled by a human “driver” through a high tech link-up that connects the driver’s mind to their Avatar body. The ten feet tall, blue skinned natives, called the Na’vi— although the humans dismissively call them “blue monkeys”—are deeply connected to their planet, sharing a connection with the land and all its creatures that defies human comprehension. Only one man comes close to understanding the Na’vi. He’s Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) a former marine who lost the use of his legs in combat. Brought on board the Avatar program he is initially used as a mole to infiltrate a Na’vi community to glean information that will make the harvesting of minerals easier, but what begins as simply completing his mission and using his legs again through the avatar soon becomes something else. He learns to love not only the Na’vi people, but one Na’vi in particular, Neytiri (Zoe Saldana).
First let’s dispel some myths. You don’t need to take Gravol with you to the movie theatre. 1.) There were rumors on the net that “Avatar’s” mix of hand held camera and 3-D was literally stomach turning. Not true. 2.) It’s not “Dances with Wolves in Space” or “Fergully” with aliens. 3.) Sight unseen people were calling it Cameron’s Folly, a three hour waste of film and money (a reported $300 million). Not true. 4.) “The Na’vi are the new Jar Jar Binks,” bloggers screamed! Also not true.
With “Avatar” Cameron has made a sprawling epic that lives up to the hype. It is something completely new, a movie that is not a sequel, a remake or based on an existing novel; a film that sprung from Cameron’s imagination and exists on its own plane. Brett Ratner, Michael Bay and all other Hollywood hacks, hang your heads in shame.
Cameron starts from scratch creating a whole new world with language, customs, religion and crazy creatures but never forgets that this is an action movie and not an anthological study. To that he adds allusions to the Iraq war, shock and awe policies and the Native American genocide all bundled up in one giant sci fi romance action flick.
It’s not all perfect, the dialogue is frequently 1980’s-action-movie lame, filled with clichés; there are logic lapses and Saldana’s character shifts from Ripley (remember “Alien”?) to damsel in distress in the blink of an eye, but the film’s achievements outweigh any of these misgivings.
Despite what the early word on the movie may have been Cameron—who at this rate won’t make another film until 2221—makes the audience feel compassion for obviously computer enhanced giant blue creatures, keep our interest for almost three hours and presents a dazzling climax that’ll leave you slack jawed.
I wrote a short history of the car cupholder for the Toronto Star!
“What was the key element of safety when you were a child?” he said. “It was that your mother fed you, and there was warm liquid. That’s why cupholders are absolutely crucial.” Read the whole thing HERE!
“The Woman King,” is a ripped-from-the-history books story of fierce camaraderie, discipline and determination, starring Oscar®-winner Viola Davis as a general in charge of all-female unit of warriors called the Agojie, who served as the inspiration for the “Black Panther’s” Dora Milaje warriors.
Set in the 1823 West African kingdom of Dahomey, the story begins as menace from white slave trader Santo Ferreira (Hero Fiennes Tiffin) and nearby Oyo Empire, led by the ruthless Oda (Jimmy Odukoya), threaten the reign of King Ghezo (John Boyega). He can no longer rule by diplomacy and cleverness alone. “An evil is coming that threatens our kingdom, our freedom,” says the King, “But we have a weapon they are not prepared for.”
That weapon is the Agojie, a.k.a. the Dahomey Amazons. They are a generations-old fighting force led by a brilliant tactician and general Nanisca (Davis), with right-hands Amenza (Sheila Atim) and Izogie (Lashana Lynch). “We fear no one,” Nanisca says. “We fear no pain.”
Armed with blades, spears and unlimited fearlessness, the Agojie fight against the heavily armed Oyo, for their land, freedom and King. Any Oyo prisoners are sold off to the Europeans in return for weapons. Nanisca knows her King is complicit in the slave trade, and tries to convince him to stop human trafficking and replace the cash flow with the sale of palm oil. “The slave trade is the reason we prosper,” she says, “but it is a poison.”
Until then the change, they must train a new batch of recruits, including the 19-year-old Nawi (Thuso Mbedu), a rebellious woman offered to King Ghezo by her father. Brought into the Agojie by Izogie, the teenager finds a sisterhood with the group she has never known in her life.
“The Woman King” breathes the same air as 90s era action epics like “Braveheart” and “Gladiator.” Crowd-pleasers that mixed interesting characters with history, some humor, a bit of melodrama and fierce fight scenes. That may feel like a dash of déjà vu, but director Gina Prince-Bythewood’s story comes steeped in Black history, specifically female Black history, and characters that bring it to vivid life.
As the battle-scarred general Nanisca, Davis commands attention, balancing the character’s authority, resilience and battle prowess with a hidden vulnerability.
As Nawi, Thuso Mbedu steals every scene she is in with a combustible charisma that keeps her coming-of-age story compelling.
“The Woman King” is a character driven epic, one that tempers the rousing action scenes—the audience I saw this with cheered for the Agojie—with powerful interpersonal relationships to keep us engaged. It feels like an old-fashioned action movie, but with a fresh and fascinating update.
In “Pearl,” a new psychological horror film now playing in theatres, Mia Goth plays a young woman with a bad case of FOMO, a head full of dreams and murderous thoughts.
Set in 1918, the outside world is suffering through the Spanish Flu pandemic and World War I, but on the remote farm that Pearl (Goth) calls home, nothing ever happens. Her first-generation German immigrant mother (Tandi Wright) is a strict “be happy with what you have” type who truly believes life never turns out the way you hope it will. When she isn’t caring for her comatose father (Matthew Sunderland), Pearl dreams of being a dancer in the movies. “I’m special,” she says. “One day the world is gonna know my name.”
Her husband Howard was supposed to take her away from the dreary farm life, but he went to war instead, leaving her behind. When she meets a “bohemian” film projectionist at the local Bijou, he encourages her to live out her dreams, but she feels bound to her parents. “If only they would just die,” she says.
When an audition comes up at the local church for a part in a dance revue, she sees a way out of her humdrum life, but what about her parents? “I will never let you leave the farm,” says her mother.
“Pearl” is a prequel of sorts to “X,” director Ti West’s previous film. That film stars Goth as Maxine, a 1970s adult entertainer who believes she is destined for a bigger and better life outside the strip club run by her boyfriend. When they concoct an idea to shoot a porno film, they choose a remote farm, one that STRONGLY resembles the farm in “Pearl.”
In both films, ambition and dreams blur to turn deadly, but you don’t need to have seen “X” to understand “Pearl.” Above all else, “Pearl” is a character study of a trouble young woman, anchored by a fearless performance from Goth. In work reminiscent of Anthony Perkins in “Psycho” by way of director Douglas Sirk. Goth is both over-the-top and understated, switching from demur, to wild-eyed to sympathetic with her malleable, expressive face. The last shot, a grin that will burn its memory in your brain, is not only a testament to Goth’s orthodontist, but also gives Conrad “the man who laughs” Veidt a toothy run for his money.
It is a remarkable performance—including a lengthy monologue that showcases all the various sides of Pearl’s personality—at the heart of this truly oddball and off-kilter examination of the push-and-pull between repression and the need for attention. Whereas “X” was a tribute to the slasher movies of the 1970s, this film has some brutal moments, but doesn’t have the scares. There are unpleasant moments, but this is an homage to the heightened melodramas of the 1950s and 60s. But with more axes, scarecrow sex and hungry alligators than Sirk could ever have imagined.
“Pearl” is being billed as a slasher, but it’s really a cinematic collage of styles with Goth as the glue that binds them together.
Early on in “Moonage Daydream,” an impressionistic look at the life and work of iconic artist David Bowie now playing in theatres, director Brett Morgen showcases a performance of “Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud,” the B-side to Bowie’s breakthrough single “Space Oddity.”
“You’ll lose me,” he sings, “though I’m always really free.”
It’s a deceptively simple line, written early on in Bowie’s career, that sums up everything that was to come. Bowie led one of the most eclectic show business careers of the last sixty years. He was a seeker, an artist whose work flirted with everything from mime and music to acting and art. He occasionally lost track of commercial concerns, but, like the lyrics suggests, he was never less than a free thinker who valued artistic joy over fame.
Morgen’s film emphasizes the restless spirit that defined David Bowie, but don’t buy a ticket expecting a cradle-to-grave “Behind the Music” style expose. There is no mention of Angela, his first wife, manager Tony Defries or the mountain of cocaine that decorated his nostrils in the 1970s.
Instead, Morgen has created an experience, a collage of sound and vision, that over the two-and-a-quarter-hour running time creates a portrait that doesn’t attempt to define the artist as much as it does to illuminate his ever-changing philosophical mindset. To achieve this Morgen mixes never-before-seen footage and performances, forty remastered songs spanning the singer’s entire career and, as narration, excerpts from fifty years of Bowie interviews.
There are no talking heads or re-enactments, and neither is this one long music video. It’s an ephemeral collection of ideas and images about an enigmatic artist who once said, “I’ve never been sure of my personality. I’m a collector. I collect personalities and ideas.”
Fragmented and almost overwhelming in its sensory effect, “Moonage Daydream” is a compelling portrait with a solid intellectual underpinning, a philosophical edge and an emotional component for diehard Bowie fans. It also has a good beat and you can dance to it… most of it anyway.
Almost forty years after Chevy Chase portrayed the smarty-pants investigative reporter Irwin M. Fletcher, aka Fletch, on the big screen, the character is back in action. The gum shoe, who, ironically, doesn’t like to wear shoes, is now played by John Hamm in “Confess, Fletch,” a murder mystery now playing in theatres and on VOD, that aims to reboot the franchise.
Based on Gregory Mcdonald’s 1976 book of the same name but set in the present day, the story begins as Fletch, who now lives in Italy with his wealthy girlfriend Angela (Lorenza Izzo), visits Boston to track down stolen paintings worth millions of dollars. On his first night in town, he returns to his swanky rented townhouse to find a dead woman in the living room.
He calls it in and immediately becomes a suspect, but being his usual unflappable self, he cracks a few jokes, and continues his search for the art, while also trying to clear his name. Complicating his investigation are the slow-and-steady-wins-the-race Detective Monroe (Roy Wood Jr.), germophobe art dealer Horan (Kyle MacLachlan) and a randy Countess (Marcia Gay Harden) who pronounces Fletch’s name as “Flesh.”
This is not your father’s cinematic “Fletch.” Gone are Chevy Chase’s disguises, slapstick and doubletakes. They’ve been replaced with a more sardonic, dead pan, smart-alecky delivery that more closely resembles the tone of Mcdonald’s popular novels. In the back of a police car, for instance, murder suspect Fletch asks if they could go on a coffee run. “I’d kill for a macchiato,” he says, “not literally!” That is the movie’s mood; it’s a flippant crime story that could have used a splash or two of Chase’s heightened irreverence.
Hamm’s slick performance feels like neither fish nor fowl. His, “I have a line for everything,” glibness wears thin early on. The film does have some funny moments—a conversation with a designer about the meaning of the word “bespoke” is laugh out loud—and it is a hoot to see Hamm and his old “Mad Men” co-star John Slattery, who plays a Boston newspaper editor, together again in their foul-mouthed and funny scenes, but Hamm doesn’t register as either serious or comedic. It is a bland performance from an award-winning dramatic actor and one whose comedic work on “30 Rock” was raucous and really funny.
Part of it is the script. “We obtained surveillance footage from a store around the corner,” says Slo-mo Monroe. “Where the fudge is made?” is Fletch’s comeback.
And part of it is the TV-movie-of-the-week feel. The murder mystery is less important than the characters, who are very broadly sketched, and that leaves the film stuck somewhere between first and second gear.
I write about how motorcycles became mainstream in the Toronto Star!
“Since “CHiPs” debuted in 1977, motorcycles — ridden by heroes, anti-heroes and villains — have rumbled their way into movies and television shows like “a burst of dirty thunder,” as Hunter S. Thompson wrote in his book “Hell’s Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs…” Read the whole thing HERE!
The grisly events in “Barbarian,” a new house rental horror film now playing in theatres, are a better advertisement for staying in a hotel than anything the Canadian Hotel & Lodging Association could have dreamed up.
The story begins with Tess (Georgina Campbell) pulling up in front of an Airbnb in the rundown neighborhood of Brightmoor in Detroit. Turns out, the only house on the block without broken windows or a kicked-in front door, is doubled booked, and Keith (Bill Skarsgård), is already settled in. She booked on Airbnb, he booked on another site, wires were crossed, but instead of sending her out in the rain to find another place to stay, he invites her in. You take the bed, he says, I’ll sleep on the coach. She reluctantly agrees, won over by his charm and seemingly good-guy vibes.
After lights out, strange things happen. At first, it’s creepy but explainable, like creaky old doors that open and close by themselves, but, the next day, when she goes to the basement to retrieve some supplies, the house reveals a dark secret.
Cut to Los Angeles, present day, and the worst moment of self-involved television star AJ Gilbride’s (Justin Long) life. Accused of sexual impropriety by a co-star, he’s fired from his show and is the subject of an exposé in the Hollywood Reporter. His career in tatters and his bank account running dry, he decides to sell off assets, including an Airbnb property he owns in Brightmoor, Detroit. “I’m not here on vacation,” he tells his lawyer as he lands in Michigan. “I’m here for some liquidity.”
As the story of Tess and AJ collide, “Barbarian” takes one last left turn, this time to Detroit, circa the Reagan years, with the origin story of the innocent looking house’s evil.
“Barbarian” is an audacious thriller with a heaping handful of solid scares. Director Zach Cregger zigs and zags, trusting the audience to hang on for the wild ride. It’s worth the trip. The tense atmosphere of Tess and Keith’s story gives way to AJ’s MeToo cautionary tale and the sinister origin story before throwing it all into the hopper to create a genre-busting final third act. Nothing is off the table as the movie tackles the worst of human nature, narcissism, murder and even incest. It’s a heady mix that should have you moving toward the edge of your seat.
“Barbarian” is one of the rare, recent horror movies that truly keeps the viewer off balance throughout. It’s never clear where the story is going, and that off-the-hook storytelling keeps the creepy story compelling. It’s a roller coaster in which only one thing is clear: Never rent an Airbnb built over a catacomb.
Following the introduction of the indeterminate intonations of his Col Tom Parker character in “Elvis,” Tom Hanks now goes Tuscan, continuing his exploration of world accents with “Pinocchio,” a live-action CGI hybrid musical, now streaming on Disney+.
Hanks is Geppetto, an Italian woodworker who carves a puppet named Pinocchio out of a block of white pine. The elderly, lonely man treats the marionette like a son, and lo-and-behold, after he wishes on a star, Pinocchio (voice of Benjamin Evan Ainsworth), with a little help from The Blue Fairy (Cynthia Erivo), comes to life.
But is he a real boy? Nope. “To be really real,” says the Fairy, “he must pass an ordeal. He must prove that he is brave, truthful and unselfish.
To point the puppet in the right direction, the Fairy appoints the wisecracking Jiminy Cricket (voice of Joseph Gordon-Levitt) to be his moral guide. It’s his job to teach the newbie right and wrong, to be his conscience. “Conscience,” he says, “is that little voice that most people choose not to listen to… and that’s what wrong with today.”
With good intentions and endless curiosity, the pair set off but are sidelined when Jiminy is imprisoned in a glass jar. Left to fend for himself, Pinocchio experiences the ups-and-downs of life as a puppet cut loose in the world. He first falls under the control of a cruel puppeteer named Stromboli (Giuseppe Battiston), meets Lampwick (Lewin Lloyd), a mischievous boy with an eye for trouble, and even gets eaten by a sea monster called Monstro the Whale.
Pinocchio is getting loads of life lessons, but is he learning life’s most important lesson? “The most important part of being real, isn’t what you’re made of,” said the Blue Fairy. “It’s about what’s in your heart.”
“Pinocchio,” directed by Robert Zemeckis, is a respectful retelling of Disney’s 1940 animated classic. The edgy details from that movie and the 1883 book by Carlo Collodi have been smoothed over—Pinocchio does not, for instance, smoke a cigar in this version—but visually, Zemeckis takes his lead from the classic Walt Disney Animation style. From the puppet’s yellow hat, blue tie and red lederhosen, this Pinocchio is strictly traditional.
It’s a vibrantly colored romp, an action adventure that, despite the up-to-the-minute technology involved, feels old fashioned, dare I say wooden, in its approach. Good messages about the importance of family and learning from your mistakes abound, the peril is kept to a family-friendly minimum and, like its main character, the movie is just a little naïve.
Following in the footsteps of other Disney live-action remakes like “Beauty and the Beast,” “The Lion King” and “The Jungle Book,” the latest version of “Pinocchio” adds new technology to the story, but no new ideas.
