Five years ago, in my review of “Cars 2,” the animated adventure of anthropomorphic race car Lightning McQueen, I wrote, “The first “Cars” film was my least favourite Pixar film—until now.” With the release of “Cars 3” I have to revise that statement.
Pixar are the American masters of animation, the gold standard. In films like “Toy Story,” “Finding Nemo,” “WALL-E” and “Up,” to name a handful, they are wizards, able to weave a story out of pixels and terabytes about toys and other inanimate objects that make us care about them for the ninety minutes we’re in the theatre.
For me the “Cars” movies have always been the sore thumbs of the Pixar IMDB page. Wildly successful, they appeal to kids who enjoy the colourful characters, fast paced action and corny jokes, but there’s not enough under the hood. They have always struck me as fuel injected visuals with little depth in the story department.
“Cars 3” is no different.
“Cars 3’s” story sees champion racer Lightning McQueen (voice of Owen Wilson) in the “living legend” phase of his career. An old school racer in a changing world his dominance of the track is challenged by hotshot Jackson Storm (Armie Hammer), the fastest car on the circuit since McQueen. “Champ here has been a role model of mine for years,” says Jackson, “trash talking and I mean a LOT of years.” To stay in the game McQueen adopts Jackson’s new school training methods, wind tunnels, treadmills, virtual reality and a multi million-dollar race simulator, under the watchful eye of trainer Cruz Ramirez (Cristela Alonzo).
When the high-tech racing preparation doesn’t work the pair seek out old timey trainer Smokey (Chris Cooper) to help McQueen find his lost mojo. In doing so they reconnect with the memory of McQueen’s mentor, Doc Hudson (courtesy of unused audio recordings of the late Paul Newman from “Cars”). Old style know-how trumps hi tech—like Rocky training on sides of beef, McQueen dodges bales of hay to increase his dexterity—which seems an odd message for a movie featuring state-of-the-art animation.
Padded with flashbacks and musical numbers to flesh out its thin story “Cars 3” feels more like an excuse to sell merchandise—the original generated more than $5 billion in swag sales—than a fully realized film. There are good messages for kids about self confidence and never giving up and the animation is terrific but it lacks the emotional punch that made “WALL-E,” “Toy Story” and “Up” so potent.
“Cars 3” brings much of what you expect from Pixar but seems to have left its heart at the junkyard. That’s not likely to affect audience reaction. The “Cars” movies have found permanent parking spots in many a family’s Blu Ray machine but for my money they belong on the used car lot.
Bad neighbors. We’ve all had them. People who play loud music at 3 am or park in your spot. They’re a pain but a bit of pulsating bass through your bedroom wall in the middle of the night is nothing compared to the unneighborly jihad Abel Turner (Samuel L. Jackson) unleashes on Chris and Lisa Mattson (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington) in the new film Lakeview Terrace.
When Chris and Lisa moved to Lakeview Heights they were excited to own their California dream home. That excitement soon diminishes as their neighbor Able mounts a slow and steady psychological war on the young couple aimed at getting them to sell the house and leave his neighborhood. They soon come to surmise that Able, a decorated LAPD policeman and self-appointed neighbor watchdog, disapproves of their interracial relationship. As his harassment escalates the couple decides to fight back with tragic results.
A well cast movie should leave the viewer unable to imagine anyone else in a particular role. For example it’s impossible to picture someone other than Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop, even though the role of Axel Foley was originally offered to Sylvester Stallone. Or could you imagine anyone replacing Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life? Nope, neither can I. Those actors brought something to those roles that made them special and unforgettable. In Lakeview Terrace the special something Samuel L. Jackson brings to the part of Able is his glare. Jackson has a fixed stare that could melt granite and it transforms his character from stock bad guy to unpredictable menace.
Jackson’s intimidating screen presence is the thing that elevates Lakeview Terrace from average thriller to effective urban horror film. It’s the key to the film’s success. Wilson and Washington are fine as the young, upwardly mobile couple, but any number of actors could have filled those roles. Jackson, however, makes the role his own, and in doing so does something director Neil LaBute couldn’t—make this movie compelling.
The story is average and in most ways predictable. Although there is nothing here that even comes close to the ineptitude LaBute displayed in his last big screen outing The Wicker Man, without the inspired casting of Jackson I’m afraid there wouldn’t be much to this movie. It plays on the kind of real life fear brought to your front doorstep also capitalized on in movies like Fatal Attraction or Play Misty for Me, but it’s a bit too talky and takes a bit too long to get to the juicy climax.
Lakeview Terrace is a forgettable thriller rescued by a joyously malevolent performance from Samuel L. Jackson.
In a movie ripe with film homages, one stands head and shoulders above the rest as the film’s best meta-moment. In Quentin Tarantino’s unhinged Spaghetti western “Django Unchained” Jamie Foxx plays the title character, a slave-turned-bounty-hunter on a search for his wife.
On his journey he encounters a slave trader played by Italian star Franco Nero. Over a drink, Nero’s character asks Django his name. “Django,” comes the reply. “D-J-A-N-G-O… the D is silent.”
“I know,” says Nero.
The sound you are hearing is the squeal of film nerds. It’s a high-pitched grunt mixed with a sudden intake of air, the gasp of a movie fanatic whose mind has just been blown.
You see Nero (whose credits reads: “With the friendly participation of Franco Nero”) originated a gun slinging character named Django in a legendary 1966 eponymously titled movie.
“Django Unchained” is heavy with references, both visual—lots of zooming cameras a la Sergio Leone—location wise—he borrowed the snow setting from The Great Silence—and even just a little bit silly—Kerry Washington’s character’s last name is Von Shaft in tribute to Richard Roundtree’s most famous character—but only King of the Film Geeks, QT, would think to have two worlds collide by presenting dueling Djangos.
Tarantino brings his unique sensibility to every frame of “Django Unchained.” It’s an uncompromising film, violent, grimly funny, and one in which the “n” word is as prevalent as any other noun. Like him or not, there is no denying that he is as true to his singular vision as any of the great filmmakers he pays homage to.
Set two years before the Civil War, the film begins with Django (Foxx) in chains, being transported deep inside the Deep South by vicious slave traders the Speck brothers (James Remar and James Russo). On a remote country road they meet Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a courtly German bounty hunter—so courtly he even has a horse named Fritz who bows— who has been tracking Django. There’s no reward for the slave; what he has is more interesting to Schultz—information.
The bounty hunter is looking to hunt down and kill a ruthless band of killers called the Brittle Brothers. Trouble is, he doesn’t know what they look like, but Django, who was beaten by them and whose wife, Broomhilda (Kerry Washington), was taken by them, does. They forge a deal. In return for his help Django will earn his freedom and Shultz will help find and rescue Broomhilda.
Django agrees to go into business with Shultz—“Kill white folks and get paid for it? What’s not to like?”—which leads them to Candie-Land, the plantation of the charming but vicious Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio). Despite the name, there’s nothing sweet about him or the place.
Tarantino is one of the handful of over-the-title directors who name is as big a draw as the story or actors. Even though there are big stars here like DiCaprio and Foxx, “Django Unchained” is first and foremost a Tarantino movie, with all that implies.
His trademarked anachronistic soundtrack—mixing 60s pop with religious music and rap—butts heads with violent but beautiful flourishes—like blood splattered cotton blossoms—in a movie that blends Spaghetti westerns with German fairy tales, revenge flicks and Hollywood history.
It a high wire act, tackling issues of the US’s relationship with slavery, racism and the exploitation of women with equal parts earnestness, style, violence and humor.
As satire a scene involving hooded white supremacists arguing over the placement of the eyeholes on their homemade cowls–“I can’t see **** out of this thing!”—is a pure Tarantino moment—acerbic, ridiculous and fearless.
The flamboyant filmmaking seems to have freed the actors.
Waltz and DiCaprio have the showiest roles. Waltz is a bounty hunter with a conscience—he doesn’t want to take advantage of Django’s status as a slave, but “for the time being I’m going to make this slavery malarkey work for me,” he says. “Still, I feel bad.”—a former dentist who “kills people and sells their corpses for cash,” which is in direct opposition to the slave traders—who buys and sell live people—he hunts and kills.
DiCaprio’s rotten tooth grin belies how much fun he’s having playing a Southern gentleman who is anything but.
Foxx is more stoic, a coiled spring eager for revenge on the people who have done him and his wife wrong. The role isn’t without humor, however. Just check out the suit Django chooses when he is allowed to pick out his clothes for the firs time ever in his life.
“Django Unchained” is bloodier than you’ll expect—with a shootout as violently gratuitous as any gun battle ever filmed—and funnier than you think it is going to be. It’s a message movie and a pulpy crowd pleaser. In other words, it’s a Tarantino film.
Five years ago, in my review of “Cars 2,” the animated adventure of anthropomorphic race car Lightning McQueen, I wrote, “The first “Cars” film was my least favourite Pixar film—until now.” With the release of “Cars 3” I have to revise that statement.
