Life Itself (****1/2)

I wonder what Roger Ebert would have thought of this documentary on his life? As we see throughout filming, Ebert was clearly active in the production of this film, so it seems all the more fitting that the triumphs of storytelling are directly rooted in his personal accomplishments, mainly his will to survive. "Life Itself" is by no means a perfect documentary, but it touches on something so sincere and moving, that I defy most movie-goers to conclude this feature without at least a tear or two. Roger Ebert was the movies, and the movies were indebted to him. If nothing else, this story is a love letter to cinema.

We open on Ebert, recently admitted to the hospital yet again as a result of cancer. His jaw, now removed, reduces his communication to a laptop, his hands, a notepad... We see the documentarian filmmaker (of Hoop Dreams fame) reflected in the hospital mirror. Roger gives him directions on how to make the film. He tells jokes, the room erupts in laughter. He smiles constantly despite the obvious pain he is in. It's a charming look at the final days of one of America's greatest critics.

The film chisels away at Ebert's childhood, his college years, first news stories, etc, all the while feeling like something I may find on a public television station. The narration (oftentimes in Ebert's own voice (I later learned this was a very effective voice-over artist)) lends insight to Ebert's early years at the Chicago Sun-Times, troubles with alcoholism, favorite Chicago bars... It's a very clunky introductory, and you feel the filmmaker's want to squeeze in as much biography as he can.

What many may not realize was that Ebert fell into movies only as a technicality. When the Sun-Times senior Film Critic retired, Ebert was volunteered to step in, and thus began the career of one of America's most trusted voices for the movies. We hear glimpses of his earlier reviews coupled with clips from the actual films (Bonnie & Clyde, anyone?). How they chose the movies they did to demonstrate his writing style is beyond me. From such an eclectic and impressive body of work, why we need to hear about "The Tree of Life" is a bit puzzling to say the least.

The fascinating story here is that of Ebert and his wife, Chaz, battling cancer and personal struggles. Learning to walk again, Ebert slowly climbs a staircase in physical therapy, an image that perhaps could come to represent the overarching theme of the entire movie. With literally half of his face missing and his voice silenced, the passion of this man to make his illness known in his final years was one of the most moving things I have ever seen.

I remember his interviews and news appearances, as well as his death. Why so many people were moved by the death of Roger Ebert is truly a puzzle. Of course, America best knew him of "Siskel & Ebert" fame (Siskel, also fleshed out through proper back story, was seemingly the catalyst to propel Ebert forward in life. He was also, perhaps, the brother he never had - all the more touching and beautiful in the film when we hear a letter Ebert wrote to Siskel's wife after his death). He was a man we all knew, and for those of us who loved the movies, he was our trusted advisor: a friend we could consult with when others told us that movies don't matter.

While I may find flaws with the technical execution of this movie, there's nothing I saw in "Life Itself" that ever made me doubt the power of filmmaking, itself. That's what Roger Ebert was a champion of, and through his death, perhaps many more will come to see the strength in his writing and the beauty in his views on life (movies and otherwise). Well worth your trip to the theater.

(Awards potential: Best Documentary)

Maleficent (*1/2)

Perhaps I'm being a bit too dramatic to call something like 'Maleficent' offensive, but with the recent string of 'gritty reboot' films floating around out there, you're really going to have to wow me to gain any respect from me. The film, a 'retelling' of the classic Disney film 'Sleeping Beauty,' is told from the point of view of the villain, and perhaps one of cinema's greatest, too. Why I cringe reading that last sentence out loud will perhaps be spelled out in the following review.

Where else can we start from the beginning? If you need a little bit of spoilers, then look no further. Maleficent, a fairy-thing who lives in the land of Moore, is a happy girl-fairy-thing who falls in love with a human, Stephan, who gives her his true loves' kiss. As they grow up, the grow apart, and in order to win the throne from the dying King, Stephan lures Maleficent back and cuts off her wings... Because the King requested her head, but I guess that's good enough. Defiled and broken-hearted, Maleficent turns a crow into a man and then back into a crow, waits several years, then decides to visit Stephan when he has a child. At the christening, she curses the baby with a death-like sleep on her 16th Birthday (even though Disney went all the way with death in the original, go figure) - you know, pricking her finger on a spinning wheel. Those 3 fairies you may remember from the cartoon bring her into the woods to raise her, except Maleficent knows exactly where they live, grows to care for Aurora (the Princess, who calls her her Fairy Godmother), then tries to take back her curse... Then it doesn't work. Then, a 12 year-old Prince we just met, strolls along and tries to awaken her with 'true loves' kiss,' but drat!, it doesn't work. In the end, Maleficent gives her a kiss, wakes her up, gets her wings back, kills the king, then becomes a good person, I guess? I don't know.

Was I rambling? I'm sorry, I was just trying to imitate the pace of the film, horribly edited into small vignettes that fade in and out and never feel like part of a complete plot. There's a narrator who truly talks through the first 35 minutes of the movie (because we couldn't figure out that this little girl is Maleficent without you telling us), only to reveal herself as an older Aurora, the "Sleeping Beauty..." Wow, what a spoiler!!

Perhaps I can ask a few questions that someone could answer, questions that may explain my overall confusion with this film:
1. Why is her name Maleficent if she doesn't start out as a villain?
2. Why is she normal-sized and the other fairies are very fake-looking CGI doll-like things?
3. Why is the land called Moore? Is it just because it kind of sounds old-timey English?
4. If she curses this baby to basically die, why does she ever look out for it? Grow to love it??
5. How did her dead wings survive living in a glass box for 30 years?
6. Why was Maleficent wearing a Catwoman costume (complete with leather Spandex) under her robes this whole time, if not just because she has a major fight scene in the end?
7. Why was this movie made?

To elaborate on the last question a bit, perhaps this is the source of my frustrations. I would think most people consider Maleficent one of Disney's greatest villains. She's suave, coy, alluring, and pure 100% goddamned evil. That's it. There's nothing more to her character, and we don't need anything else. She exists in this world solely to be the antagonist, and it's literally the most bad-ass thing ever. The problem with a movie like this, then, is that it makes the false assumption that a character like this needs sympathy. She doesn't, she really doesn't. Perhaps in a few years they can make an origin story for Amon Goeth in 'Schindler's List,' so at least we can understand his actions....

The movie fails in almost every regard, and like last year's 'Oz: The Great and Powerful,' it's almost amazing how terribly a film can fail in so many aspects. From the small, cheap-looking sets, to the Maleficent costume itself (much more striking and visually amazing in the cartoon, even), everything feels like a dud.

Ultimately, what's the point? Oh, Maleficent is a good person, hurray. This world no longer has a villain, the original film is void, and Disney rakes in millions of dollars all because us innocent audience members wanted to see Angelina Jolie murder some goddamned kids. Instead, we're left with a cold, flat film with no discernible plot or character motivations, and a whole lot of wasted dollars out of my pocket.

(Awards potential: come on, now)

Godzilla (****)

In a time when Hollywood has stepped to the lowest rung of the ladder, when it seems like it could reach no lower for a petty way to make more money, another version of Godzilla making an appearance in cinemas seems like a terrible idea (but then again, I'm touching up a review for Spider-Man, a reboot of a series that only released its last movie 7 years ago...). With the 1998 version still mostly fresh in everyone's mind, it's with great joy that Godzilla stands as a smart Hollywood action flick, with the occasional moment of true movie magic.

The plot, can you believe it, begins in Japan, with the meltdown of a nuclear power plant. Joe Brody (Bryan Cranston, in an all-too short role) is the man who runs it, or seems to at least. His wife (the ever-gorgeous Juliette Binoche) dies in the accident, and their son, Ford (Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the adult) witnesses the destruction first hand. Cut to several years later, when Ford is in the Army and his father is now a nutcase hard-bent on uncovering secret government conspiracies. His claim that the nuclear meltdown was a cover for something else seems like gibberish. That, and his recent studies of echolocation.

Perhaps he's not too far off....

Unlike the most recent incarnation of Godzilla, here he is not the enemy. In fact, he's here to save the world from a couple of monsters so nasty, they're like a mix of a spider, bat, and grasshopper all in one. And they're planning on breeding.

We learn that Godzilla was the reason for most of the nuclear tests in the 1950's - covered up by impending war. His presence goes largely unnoticed, but he rises from the water every so often to "restore balance," AKA kick some monster ass at our expense.

The movie definitely waits for the big reveal of Godzilla, and it pays off. The first moment we see his towering frame on screen - silent and lit by a single red flare, it really makes you want to get up and cheer. The build-up is slow, and perhaps the movie runs a bit long, but our anxiety at seeing a 40-story lizard has never been more rewarding.

And while it's wonderful to see some serious action scenes, how curious is it that we need a 'human' plot at all, one which revolves around Ford and a team of soldiers trying to detonate a nuclear bomb to lure the creatures out of downtown San Fransisco... Is it just me, or do we not really care what happens in that regard? When you see a movie like Godzilla, you're expecting some action. More often than not, though, I found the director cutting away from action just as it was about to begin, only to cut back several minutes later to see the city in complete destruction. Where's the fun in that?

In the filmmakers' defense, there are some truly remarkable fight scenes, and I left the theater generally satisfied (even with the 3D ticket, to boot). For a summer flick, you can definitely do much worse (and with an ending like that, expect to see at least 4 more sequels in the next decade).

(Awards potential: Best Visual Effects, Best Sound Mixing, Best Sound Editing)

Only Lovers Left Alive (****)

Contributing to the nearly overblown vampire canon would not necessarily seem like a wise choice for a filmmaker. While the stories have stretched back as far as films themselves, our recent perception of vampire folklore has been diluted by the likes of 'Twilight' and rendered nearly pointless. How refreshing, then, to see a film that lurks in the shadows, trods slowly forward, and leaves nearly all the gore and macabre imagery off-screen. It's slow-paced, mysterious, and sexy, and one fine horror film (if you feel comfortable classifying it as such).

Our story begins with the hunt for blood, and what sounds like the most tasty: O negative. It fills the mouthes of our main characters with a nearly euphoric high. We meet Eve (the ever-sensual Tilda Swinton), a vampire residing in Tangier along with fellow vampire Christopher Marlowe (yes, of Shakespeare fame, played by the trusty John Hurt). Her husband Adam (Tom Hiddleston), a reclusive musician with an ear for the classical and fame in heavy rock, lives in a dilapidated house on the outskirts of Detroit. They seem to survive on the trust in others. Eve gets her blood supply from Marlowe, while Adam has a human aide (he calls humans 'zombies') who runs all sorts of errands for him. Sensing a loneliness in Adam (and reinforced by our knowledge of his commissioning a wooden bullet), she journeys to see him (redeye flights all the way, of course).

The movie moves forward with a cool confidence and an eclectic soundtrack that spans the decades. In a way, the movie is almost an ode to the underground music scene of the times. We don't move from plot point to plot point so much as we move from setting to setting, taking in the scenery and perhaps feeling the way these characters feel, doomed to live for eternity in their young bodies. Adam collects guitars, violins, and Eve collects books. Along with her eternal life, she is also blessed with the ability to date something by touch. Without looking, she is able to determine Adam's guitar is a 1905 Gibson. That, and she can read an entire book in mere minutes. I suppose living that long comes with a few benefits. 

Tilda Swinton continues to impress with her wide range of roles and support of the independent film scene. The Oscar winner could surely pursue any film project she desires, and yet we find her in the smallest films, mostly going unnoticed, and yet reminding us she is truly one of the best living actors. She moves slowly and with purpose, filling the screen with an otherworldly sensuality that only someone with Swinton's repertoire could create. The same could be said for Hiddleston, growing in fame, and yet a visceral force of being in this film. He speaks little, appears unkempt, but his presence demands our attention (and perhaps is what draws Eve to him).

The movie is shot in near darkness, and the few lights in the film are stark and cold. Living out life during the night, the film is also curiously devoid of other characters, making it a curiously intimate story of love and omnipotence. Whether or not you will see this movie is up to you (and with its limited release, I wish you luck in finding it). Amongst all the sludge currently in cimenas not, this is a smart film.

(Awards potential: Best Original Screenplay, Best Original Score, Best Cinematography)

The Grand Budapest Hotel (****1/2)

Wes Anderson is no stranger to mise-en-scène, that film-world term that refers to the overall feel of a film; the visual methods by which the story and tone is communicated. In fact, I think Wes Anderson is perhaps the leading director in today's cinema in that regard, someone who consistently creates art that is so uniquely of a time period and so uniquely his own creation. "The Grand Budapest Hotel," then, is without a doubt his most ambitious, and perhaps his most touching film to date.

The story is set up with striking detail. We see a girl visit the grave of an "author" (Tom Wilkinson & Jude Law) who wrote a book in his younger years about a grand hotel, set in the remote mountains of a fictional Republic of Zubrowka - a story of a country's war as well as the methods by which a certain man named Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) came to own the establishment.

Through a flashback within a flashback within a flashback, the story begins, and we meet the hotel's original concierge, Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), a peculiarly giddy and charming man. He is accustomed to forming romantic relationships with his older clientelle - all blonde, all women, all older, all desperate.. Zero is simultaneously beginning his training as a Lobby Boy, and under Gustave's care, he is taken in as an apprentice.

And then the tragedy, one of Gustave's most dear patrons, Madame D (an unrecognizable Tilda Swinton), is suddenly killed - murder, and though he comes to inherit a priceless painting called "Boy With Apple," Gustave is suspect and sent to prison for the murder. Madame D's son and living sisters are dumbfounded by her shocking love for a hotel employee...

The film succeeds on nearly every level a film of this caliber can. From the rapid-fire cast (so star-studded there's apparently 19 Oscar nominations between them all) to the dry black humor written by Anderson, himself. The film absorbs you into a time period you've never heard of yet you come out of feeling like an expert. From the grand set pieces of the hotel to the grim interiors of a prison or a snowy mountainside, the film is a triumph of visual storytelling. No other Wes Anderson film approaches this level of creativity or art direction, and yet it never feels like a film beyond his grasp as a filmmaker.

Anderson is known for his flat, picturesque camera setups, almost like a painting, with little evidence of vanishing lines into the distance or exterior shots... In the past, this method has changed his stories into near-fables (think the fantasy-like feel you have watching Royal Tenenbaums, or the child-like design of Moonrise Kingdom). The same is true with Budapest, and yet the style seems to absolutely fall into place, and perhaps Anderson has found the first story that was MADE for his filmmaking style - the film he was born to make, so to say...

Out of all the films in theaters currently, I can't think of a more ambitious one. For an early Spring release, "Grand Budapest Hotel" knocks it out of the part as a smart, witty, funny, emotional, and never-ceases-to-amaze adventure...

(Awards potential: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Fiennes), Best Original Screenplay, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, Best Original Score, Best Costume Design)