Gives a new meaning to Peeping Tom.

Casper The Frenzied Ghost.

The one with the Burj Khalifa. By this fourth MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE film, all the adventures are jumbled together in our heads; the only way to tell them apart is by each film’s stunts. 1996’s MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE had the fish tank restaurant, the suspension gag and the helicopter-bullet-train climax; II had free-climbing, bike stunts and the knife-to-the-eye gag (and doves); III had the slanted roof gag (a precursor to the Burj?) and the missile hit…

… and in MISSION:IMPOSSIBLE: GHOST PROTOCOL, Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) free-climbs the largest hotel in the world in Dubai. Of course he did the stunt himself… otherwise, where would the Xenu deathwish be?

Joining IMF agent Hunt on this mission to retrieve Russian nuclear launch codes, are hacker Benji (Simon Pegg), new field agent Brandt (Jeremy Renner), and field agent Jane (Paula Patton, one of the sexiest spies to grace the IMPOSSIBLE series, with her square jaw and refusal to wear high heels). The amazing thing about all the IMPOSSIBLE movies, though, is that their prime stunts are merely part of a larger framework of outlandish plotting and action/adventure; they’ve sidled up so close to modern Bond movies that Tom Cruise could be cast as The Next Bond and no one would blink an eye.

For those who crave this kind of stunt-run-stunt-explosion frenzy, GHOST PROTOCOL delivers in spades, as well as gags like the fake corridor hologram, the magnet floating Brandt above the fan, Tom Cruise Running to escape a sandstorm, and even a savage girl-fight where Paula Patton simply redlines the sexiness meter.

OPENING TITLE: Budapest (oh, is this what Hawkeye means with that running gag to Black Widow?). An IMF agent (Josh Holloway) is killed by none other than a Bond Girl – Léa Seydoux as Sabine, stealer of the Russian codes (and Bond’s heart).

The onscreen romance that spelled the end for Tom and Nicole.

We then see Hunt break out of a Moscow prison, dragging a cooperating witness, who can help with the Russian code chase. Michael Nyqvist (renowned Russian badguy – after Rade Sherbedgia) is Hendricks, who plans to start a nuclear war so that only the strong will survive in Electric Ladyland.

Then the MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE filmmakers have the audacity to blow up the Kremlin. (Go big or go home, right?) Hendricks did it Bold As Love, but of course, Hunt is blamed. And the Gutless American Government initiates “Ghost Protocol” disavowing the IMF (again!), causing Hunt and his team to go rogue (again!), but with the surreptitious consent of the gubmint to continue the mission…  Just don’t tell anyone they’re on a mission… uh, isn’t that how ALL secret agent missions are done?

To India (you’ve never heard Lalo Schifrin’s Mission: Impossible Theme played, until you’ve heard it played on a sitar), featuring Anil Kapoor (SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE) as an Indian tycoon with codes that the IMF team want.

In a film full of McGuffins, Hendricks flees with his suitcase of nuclear codes, into a multilevel parking garage designed by M.C. Escher, where he battles Hunt while cars and platforms move up and down for no reason at all. While a launched missile bears down on a city, the case that can stop it lies at the base of the multilevel complex, and in one of the film’s funnier-yet-insane stunts, Ethan drives a luxury car directly off a high platform to retrieve the case, knowing the airbag will activate upon impact with the ground!

Written by TV writing team Josh Appelbaum and Andre Nemec, and directed by Brad Bird (RATATOUILLE), one thread keeps dangling from the previous film, MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE III – Hunt’s marriage. That movie’s plot was driven by Hunt rescuing his fiancé (Michelle Monaghan), which he married by movie’s end. In this film, she’s an untidy subplot: Brandt was apparently her bodyguard and failed to save her life, beating himself up over it and working for Hunt to absolve himself – until Hunt reveals he faked his wife’s death, so that she could live peacefully away from the spy world. Hunt watches her from afar in the film’s coda. Is that really healthy? Because if she thinks he’s dead or unattainable, she will move on with her life, and does he really want to see her being spanked by another? I guess he could use those Burj climbing skills to be a real Peeping Tom.

Jeremy Renner tries to hypnotize Paula Patton into thinking he’s the strongest Avenger.

History will probably regard Tom Cruise as the Sean Connery of the MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE franchise (the 1966 TV series starring Peter Graves will be largely forgotten), because of course another actor will take up the mantle of Ethan Hunt when Cruise gets too old to bodyshave his way out of jams. And there will come those inevitable arguments on WHO is the best Hunt; and the series will suffer its trends, swaying from De Palma to Woo, from grounded to eye-damaging efx, from gritty to girly, to prequels and offshoots… I wonder about those upcoming actors, how they must out-charisma Cruise, how they must out-stunt their predecessors, and how they must out-crazy Scientology…

END

The Avengers during their FAST & FURIOUS audition.

Deus ex Marvela.

The Elevator Pitch: “Think: BACK TO THE FUTURE meets STAR TREK IV – the Avengers travel back in time, to retrieve these McGuffins in the past that will fix things in the present.” And producer Kevin Feige asked, “Can it be wacky, like in BACK TO THE FUTURE where they’re sneaking around their past selves and suddenly meeting their own young father or something?” Oh yes! nod the writers enthusiastically, aiming to plagiarize—I mean, please. Feige continues, “Will there be whales?” The writers look at each other, stutter, “Y-You mean like in STAR TREK IV?” Feige squints at them from above. They effuse, “Of course there’ll be whales! – but mechanical alien whales that swim around the skies of New York—“ Then Kevin Feige reached his floor, put his pants back on, and greenlit AVENGERS: ENDGAME.

Don’t worry, Millennial Marvelites, it might blatantly rip off two classic comedy movies, but it’s still all about the punching. And we still get that idiotic tableau of two technological factions running at each other like they’re warring tribes in BRAVEHEART (even though half of them are magic, half of them can fly, and both sides have firepower that can burn down continents – no, let’s run toward each other and punch dance so we can look legit in posters). For the SJW Millennials, there’s the emasculation of the two “strongest Avengers” – Hulk and Thor. And for the woman-empowering Millennials, you get the cringey scene of all the Estrogen Avengers banding together to transport one McGuffin to another McGuffin. And leave us not forget all the magic who cares fuck you…

But Poffy, you say: Why then does AVENGERS: ENDGAME score 7/10 Cukees? Pretty high for a film that takes us for idiots.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME is sold on its performances alone. If it weren’t for the filmmakers (directors Anthony and Joe Russo, from a screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely) concentrating on the people at the heart of this CGI-glutted, magic-filled, sprawling epic, the film would die a horrible death. Marvel banked on its stars being good enough actors to elevate what is essentially a kiddie’s superhero movie into a poignant adult movie about loss, family and redemption. And the gamble pays off. These actors are more than able to convey the gravitas, trauma and sacrifice that goes with being a super, giving your blood and bone for the population of a planet. And grounding the movie around the performances is the best thing Marvel could have done. (Because, let’s face it, the rest of it makes zero sense.)

While ENDGAME retains the tone of the series, it is not a standalone movie. You cannot possibly understand the plot if you haven’t watched at least 10 other movies from the Marvel Cinematic Universe over the last decade. Marvel Studios’ tactic is stupid and canny at the same time – stupid because this film will lose its referential clout and won’t make sense when viewed over time, and canny because Marvel actually conned everyone on Earth into thinking we needed to see all 22 MCU films (starting with IRON MAN in 2008) to not miss out on being a part of world culture.

If you are not up to speed on where the MCU left our heroes, then the first thing you need to do is write a letter to Marvel and apologize.

ENDGAME opens with archer Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner, never once called by his super name, Hawkeye, in all four AVENGERS movies) sharing a day with his family. They disappear. We figure: Oh, this is the moment Thanos snapped—but hang on! So while half the Avengers were in Wakanda and half the Avengers were on planet Gloomypants trying to smell the glove, this rube was having a family barbecue?! Even with his “house arrest,” did no one call and say, Hey we can sure use your nominal input here, anything, even some gay archery would help! Marvel thinks no one is paying attention. And the way everyone keeps lauding these plothole-ridden movies as the greatest movies ever made, it seems like Marvel is right.

Next, we see Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) lost in space with Nebula (Karen Gillan). What are they doing there? Playing tiddlywinks, of course, while their air runs out. Yes, but what are they DOING there? Oh, you never watched the last movie? Well, you see, he was on the ship when—doesn’t matter, Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) saves them. Thank You, deus ex Marvela!

Before anyone can say, “What the actual hell is going on?” Captain Marvel is at Avengers HQ, telling the Avengers, “Let’s kill Thanos.” They say okay. (Because no criminals deserve a fair trial in Avengers World. Just go straight to the execution. I mean, they’re not called the Justicers, are they?)

In the previous movie, AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR, the Chinballian Thanos (Josh Brolin) had collected six Infinity Stones which gave him power to wipe out half the life in the universe with one snap of his fingers. He did it for the resources, for the love, for the Boys… Well, many superheroes died (as well as half the life in the universe – but we don’t care about what we can’t see), precipitating fanboys crying themselves to sleep and burning their Spider-Man bed sheets in sympathy, not realizing that Marvel would never keep its properties dead for long, or the dolls would stop selling. Early in this first act, the Avengers find Thanos and try to make him restore Life, but Thanos had destroyed the only means of doing so – the Stones – so Thor (Chris Hemsworth) does what social media was whining for him to do from the beginning – behead Thanos.

FIVE YEARS LATER…

The Earth is a garbage dump, stadiums silent, streets bare, people haggard from their losses (though they don’t show the benefits of life halved – freeways unjammed, closer seats to your favorite band, less morons in customer service to deal with, basically – a better world).

Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans) is running a support group, and Tony Stark has settled down with Pepper (Gwyneth Paltrow) with a cute-as-hell little daughter (Lexi Rabe), who “loves him 3000.”

Scott Lang/Ant-Man (Paul Rudd), trapped in the quantum realm (since the movie ANT-MAN & THE WASP), is brought back by a rat. Thank You, deus ex Marvela! He tells Cap and Natasha/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) that they can use quantum mechanics to go back to a time Before The Snap, bring the Infinity Stones back to the Present, and restore all Life. Cap: “You’re not talking time travel, are you?” Scott: “Oh, no no no no no no, yes.” Thank You, Monty Python’s Flying Circus. (Note to Millennials: not only is the plot unoriginal – so are the jokes.)

So they get the band back together.

Rocket (Bradley Cooper) has been hanging here on Earth, since his intergalactic pals all turned to dust. Bruce Banner/Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) is now Professor Hulk (that’s a thing in the comics: he’s big and green yet peachy keen). Not-Hawkeye is found killing Japanese gangsters under his new epithet, Not-Ronin (featuring a cameo by the great Hiroyuki Sanada). Thor is rooming with his brahs from RAGNAROK, Korg (Taika Waititi) and Meek, as King of New Asgard (some coastal town on Earth – because that’s a thing in the comics), and suffering PTSD, playing videogames and pigging on pizza and beer, hair grown long and dreadlocked, and wearing a fat-suit almost as bad as the fat-suit in THINNER.

Quantum Pajamas Assemble!

The Avengers lay out the “time-heist” idea to Tony, but Tony is still having a lover’s tiff with Cap for, uh… y’know, even *I* don’t remember what his grudge is about, and I’ve seen all the live-action-cartoons-for-kids— ahem, I mean, MCU movies. Tony vetoes the idea, explaining how time travel is impossible, mentioning all the movies they’re about to rip off.

Then he works out time travel after dinner. Thank You, deus ex Marvela! And everyone dresses in matching pajamas and goes flying into the quantum realm to re-enact BACK TO THE FUTURE II. Meanwhile, Captain Marvel – who was teased in two films as the One Most Likely To Bitchslap Thanos – has buggered off somewhere…

As Marvel Studios used magic in the last film, now that all-purpose device is replaced with time travel. Thus, the Avengers’ time-travel suits (why must they wear those pajamas? It’s time travel who cares fuck you) are housed in nano-bracelets (how do the bracelets link to the present date? It’s time travel who cares fuck you) that use Pym particles (how? It’s time travel who cares fuck you) to travel to various times in history and steal all the Stones before Thanos acquires them, woiking that quantum dimension until someone’s lying on the floor, face-down ass-up.

The time-travel element is funny and interesting, and the conundrums played well, with Tony being the Straight Man, Bruce his comic foil and Ant-Man the patsy, however, its introduction to the MC Universe is a cop out, because it ruins everyone’s previous redemptions and sacrifices (from their respective standalone movies). For example, though Thor is doubting himself as a man and hero (with Hemsworth doing a truly remarkable job as a guilt-ridden, regretful slob), he need sulk no more – as traveling back in time will nullify all those regrets, negating their worth in his growth as a character. Apply this device across the board to each character’s regrets, and you realize that if plots can be un-done by the very company that wrote them in the first place, it’s no better than George Lucas re-jiggering STAR WARS to make Greedo shoot first.

Cap will actually use this device to cancel out his regrets, in a poignant final scene – that will mean all the emotion we invested in Cap trying to get back to his lost love in CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER was for nought. Because time travel who cares fuck you.

ON THE OTHER HAND, this movie can be construed as the final chapter in one continuous biblical epic spanning 22 films (like Peter Jackson’s three LORD OF THE RINGS films are actually one J.R.R. Tolkien story split into three films), and if that be the case, then  Marvel and all its worker bees have wrought a jewel more potent than The One Ring To Rule Them All. And the payoffs are monumental! But then, the fact that the payoffs had to be achieved through time travel is still a cop out, because time travel per se is utilized by fictions as another kind of magic who cares fuck you…

ENDGAME trips and hits its head on fan service when the Avengers start Marty-McFlying through time. Ant-Man and Iron Man land in 2012 New York, and we see THE AVENGERS movie play out from other angles. (Marvel started doing this, in an exceptional manner, in SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING, where we saw Spidey’s private footage of the airport battle.) It’s very cool, but treading awfully close to that movie with the DeLorean. And Tony runs into Howard Stark – his dad as a young man! (What are the odds?! So did Marty!) It’s very touching, with Howard (John Slattery de-aged) speaking of his soon-to-be born son (Tony, of course): “He’s not even born yet, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” *I* leaked. How about you?

Captain America re-lives that scene of entering an elevator full of Hydra agents (including Frank Grillo), and the filmmakers artfully dodge what we think will be another gangbang, with Cap softly saying, “Hail Hydra” (which is a thing in comics, in another context – where writer Nick Spencer upended the Captain America universe in 2016 by making him a double-agent!), and walking away from the bukkake… until he meets his taut-buttocked past self…

Cap would have to McGuffin further back in time to 1944, where he sees his lost love, Peggy Carter (Haley Atwell, who still looks like Bill Hader); it’s foreshadowing that will pay off in spades for Marvel, meaning audiences will weep inconsolably when Cap is eventually reunited with Peggy, and Marvel will sell more Captain America dolls.

War Machine (Don Cheadle) and Nebula land in the opening scene of GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY, where Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is amusing himself singing into that small animal Come And Get Your Love, while stealing that original orb. Our hearts leap for joy. That movie, more than any other Marvel bombastadon, touched such a freewheeling, innocent spirit in our breasts. I like it when they touch my breasts.

Rocket and Thor head to Asgard (in THE DARK WORLD period), and the filmmakers do an artful thing: they tease us that Thor’s ex-squeeze Jane (Natalie Portman) is important to the plot, but instead of reuniting Thor with Jane, Thor meets his mother Frigga (regal Rene Russo), and they share a heartfelt moment that pulls Thor away from the edge of bathos and renews his faith in himself. (This meeting, poignant though it is, seems like a workaround, as Portman obviously wants nothing to do with her silly role as a god’s boo, so Rocket acquires Jane’s Aether/Stone offscreen, while Thor finds his ‘nads with his mother instead of his lover.) On the strength of Hemsworth’s fragility and redemption here, I’m leaking again.

Thor also summons his hammer Mjolnir, from this era, preciously smiling, “I’m still worthy…” Now he’s armed with Stormbreaker and Mjolnir, while the actual Thor from this era is probably wondering why his hammer won’t return to him. How did he get by without—how did he fly or command his legions, or— It’s time travel who cares fuck you.

Hulk visits The Ancient One (from DOCTOR STRANGE) for the Time Stone, and is emasculated further when he is bested by a woman (Tilda Swinton, whom many consider to be a man—I mean, woman). She explains time-streams for the few people who have not seen BACK TO THE FUTURE, and how the Stone is so woven into the fabric of her existence that she would never ever EVER give it to Hulk. Then she gives it to Hulk. Thank you, deus ex Marvela!

Not-Ronin and Widow travel to Vormir (a planet from INFINITY WAR). Remember that dismal dimension, warded by Red Skull (Ross Marquand), where you had to sacrifice a loved one to get the Stone? Did the Avengers know this already? Is that why they specifically sent these two mewling quims? So even though Barton and Natasha seem surprised when Skull tells them the rules, it’s a gosh-darn good thing they love each other – or we’d never get the stone [in a Seinfeld voice, with canned laughter]. Thank You, deus ex Marvela! On the ride there, Barton says to Natasha, “This is a long way from Budapest!” Oh, for fun – not that running gag! I can’t wait for the Hawkeye/Widow prequel that shows us what went down in Budapest, that will rival the SOLO movie for its Irrelevance Quotient.

Before we can say, “Just fuck and get it over with,” Natasha and Barton grapple (not in that good way) for the right to die for all their past indecencies… and Barton returns to Avengers HQ with the Stone probably heaviest in price. Again, I must commend the writing and performances: it would have been so easy for the writers to simply make the characters mouth, “I love you” to each other with maudlin ease – but that is studiously avoided in lieu of deflective argument and tough love gestures. And Jeremy Renner, who never had much to do in these AVENGERS films, ups his screentime, poignancy and his gravitas (not to mention his mating potential, laydayz: that sleeve-tatt and Mohawk – oh, he’s a bad boy now!). But don’t weep, Millennial Marvelites; there’s a BLACK WIDOW film slated for release in 2021. So, dead, yeh, but starring in upcoming film, with dolls on the assembly line ready for shipping. It’s time travel who cares fuck you.

Remember when Thanos killed Loki (Tom Hiddleston) at the beginning of INFINITY WAR? “No resurrections this time.” Marvel say, “Ha! Just kidding!” (Here, Loki appears in the 2012 sequence, so – laydayz…)

Hulk snaps. Life restored. Screams as his arm is destroyed by the Stones. Question: Why didn’t Thor – who can withstand the power of a star – do the snapping? Answer: because Thor is fat, and fat people are not powerful. And Hulk only got burned because he is now a girlyman intellectual (a she-hulk?). In this world where men can’t be Men anymore, see how the writers insidiously play off human prejudices to usurp these men’s potency, not through the malice of a villain, but through the power of whining SJWs, the greatest villains of all – to MAN-kind. Comics Hulk and comics Thor have performed deeds the likes of which qualifies them to take on Thanos alone, but there are so many powered beings here, the filmmakers can afford to heed the whining of social media and de-power these two literal strongest Avengers.

Birds may be chirping, and Hawkeye’s wife may be calling, but Nebula’s WiFi has alerted Thanos From Before to the time-heist – and the big blue ballsac teleports from 2012 to the present! Now there was a time twist no one saw coming! As Tony says, “We screwed with time – now time’s hitting back!” Thanos literally goes Back To The Future!

And this time, Thanos wants to “shred every atom of this universe, and build it back from scratch with the Stones.” And the Avengers punch him for that. Although Brolin still retains a majestic quietude with Thanos, underplaying magnificently, he isn’t the discerning philanthropist of the past (i.e. his future, i.e. our present, i.e. who cares); now he’s that one-dimensional villain who’s only missing the evil Bwohahaha laugh. “It was never personal – but what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet, I’m gonna enjoy it very, very much.” And the Avengers punch him for that as well.

In three-hour movie, can we really afford 45-minute battle scene in third act? Producer say “Whatever it takes.” Director ask, “Which supers you want in final fight?” Producer say to director, like Gary Oldman in LEON: “Benny, bring me everyone.” Benny ask, “What do you mean ‘everyone’? Gary scream: “EVERYONE!”

Fanboys lose their shit.

Scampering out of time-holes come the whole catalogue of Marvel merchandising properties, including Falcon, Panther, Okoye, Strange, Wong, Quill, Drax, Bucky, Wasp, and baby-faced Spider-Man (Tom Holland), who disturbed so many with his pre-dust comment, “Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.” All alive again. Thankfully, say Marvel. Doll sales were flagging.

Captain Marvel is back and has cut her hair like a lesbian. Because of course. Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) is on her flying cow. Suddenly – Pepper in an Iron Woman suit—really?! She goes by the hero name of Rescue – because that’s a thing in the comics, but in the context of this film, it’s the lamest shark jump ever. And I’m not even wondering how she had the time to gain the expertise to wield her suit as well as Tony, with a five-year-old baby at home; no, what I’m wondering is: How the hell did she get a babysitter at such short notice?!

Gawd, the lack of imagination in these fight scenes is more astounding than seeing every Marvel property onscreen at the same time. Super-powered beings, that can utilize magic and super-speed and tactical firepower – just punching like knobs. And Thanos seems just as powerful with or without the Gauntlet, so what are the rules? Captain Marvel is supposedly the most powerful being in the MCU and all she does is punch harder. She brings down Thanos’s ship by flying through its hull, disintegrating it. Thor could’ve done that. She gets Thanos in a headlock. Any one of 20 supers could’ve done that. Wanda/Scarlett Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) almost does Thanos in by herself, just by pushing her breasts together… Oh, and Cap wields Mjolnir (because that’s a thing in the comics)….

As the X-MEN movie series was the story of Wolverine, THE AVENGERS movie series is the story of Tony Stark, who comes full circle spiritually. Way back in the first movie, Cap chided Tony that he would never lay down his life for anyone, and Tony ends up laying down his life for… dare I?… EVERYONE. (Well, half of everyone.) And who turns up at Tony’s funeral? Oh, yes please, Gary… EVERYONE. Fan service orgasm. And Tony gives a final monologue via hologram, something about loving Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Falcon is bequeathed Cap’s shield, to become the new Captain America (because that’s a thing in the comics), however the issue is not whether Falcon SHOULD be Captain America, but whether he CAN. Because he is not imbued with super soldier serum; a more logical choice would be super soldier Bucky (because that’s a thing in comics too), but I think the filmmakers are trying to comply with the Sokovia Accords – with Bucky a fugitive defined by those statutes. Speaking of which, General Ross (William Hurt) was at Tony’s funeral – shouldn’t he be arresting half the Avengers for being on active duty without the correct paperwork?

Old Cap sits on a bench, having lived a full life. (We can only assume Bill Hader was barren, as there are no Baby Caps running around.) And we must ask: If Old Cap is the Cap from THIS time, then what happened to the Cap from THAT time, who was frozen in the ice? I presume THIS Cap went back to a time after THAT Cap was frozen, so he could move in on THAT Cap’s girl without himself being around to cockblock himself. So this means THAT Cap will be unfrozen after the war and still make it to the present as a young man. Right? But isn’t THAT Cap (the one who gets unfrozen) THIS Cap (the one who went back in time)? So that would make THIS Cap THAT Cap. Which doesn’t make any sense at all. I contacted Marvel for a comment on this time anomaly and they were kind enough to reply with the explanation:

“It’s time travel who cares fuck you.”

END

From superhero to supervillain.

The Ham-Burglar.

THE FOUNDER, the story of how Ray Kroc stole the McDonald’s brand out from under its actual founders and turned it into the biggest fast food chain on the globe, is simultaneously inspiring and horrifying – like a meal from McDonald’s.

Written by Robert Siegel (based on the amazing true story) and directed like a lean burger by John Lee Hancock (SAVING MR. BANKS), THE FOUNDER at first seems like a triumphant underdog story, as disconsolate milkshake-machine salesman Ray Kroc (Michael Keaton) convinces Dick and Mac McDonald (gruff Nick Offerman and trusting John Carroll Lynch) that he can franchise their remarkably efficient and successful burger joint in San Bernadino, California called “McDonald’s.” Skeptical at first (for having tried and failed) the McDonald brothers give Kroc a shot.

He succeeds beyond their wildest expectations. Walk five blocks in any direction for proof.

And the underdog tale takes a turn down Obsession Alley and Power-Mad Boulevard as Kroc expands the McDonald’s empire like a military coup against the founders of the company themselves – the McDonald brothers – eventually even registering the brothers’ name as his business, “The McDonald’s Corporation.”

For all those people who, like myself, always thought there was something screwy in why the restaurant name did not match its founder’s name, now we know why: Kroc is not the founder! The movie title is ironic! After gradually claiming all the brothers’ ideas as his own, Kroc would eventually even claim he was the founder! In a sad final confrontation scene between Dick (Offerman) and Kroc in a men’s room, we would discover Kroc’s motivation for overrunning the McDonald brothers: “That glorious name: McDonald’s. It could be anything you want it to be. It sounds like… America! That’s compared to Kroc’s. Would you eat at a place called Kroc’s?”

McDonald’s had lines around the block even when the food was edible!

It was 1954 when Ray Kroc first appeared at the original San Bernadino McDonald’s to deliver 8 milkshake machines. (This original restaurant would even lose its primacy as “Location #1” after Kroc registered one of his franchises – at Des Plaines Illinois – as McDonald’s #1!) Kroc was stunned by the high quality food and the speedy service. “This might be the best hamburger I’ve ever had in my life!” (Now keep in mind, it’s 1954; he’s obviously not talking about the modern two processed all-beef patties processed special sauce processed lettuce processed cheese processed pickles processed onions on a processed sesame seed processed bun.) This was back when the McDonald brothers cared about quality and flavor and service.

When Ray is being given the store tour by Mac McDonald (Lynch), we are on Mac’s side, for being such a sweet man and entrepreneur. And we are also on Ray’s side, as a guy down on his luck who might turn things around with the marketing potential he sees in McDonald’s.

The three principals (Keaton, Offerman and Lynch) bring their A-game: Keaton bringing that charm offensive we know so well, which keeps us off-balance when his character turns to the dark side; Offerman, such a fine comedian, here unamusing and unamused as the strict businessman who sees early that the brothers are being led down a wrong way street; Lynch, the more gullible brother, conflicting emotions warring across his face, allowing Kroc a long rope and making excuses for him, until he too finds himself shouting uncontrollably over the phone to Kroc in a losing argument…

The underdog aspect lingers when we meet Kroc’s neglected wife Ethel (Laura Dern), who has endured too many of Kroc’s Get-Rich-Quick schemes to get excited over the hamburger franchise. Ethel is pleasantly surprised when Kroc announces they would have dinner at the club – where she was pining to go, to resume their social life – only to discover Kroc using the visit to recruit franchise owners from their high roller friends. Even so, there is a touching moment when Ethel professes belief in husband Ray against his high-roller detractors and skeptics. Dern’s role is a little hard to tease into, as it seems she “resigns” herself to Ray’s schemes, rather than wholeheartedly supports him. But we can’t quite tell; there is not enough screenplay burger for her to become more solid.

Ray’s stores pop up so fast, the quality control suffers, and Ray discovers that the men with money are not the right men to run the golden arches. He stumbles across another hard-luck, hard-working salesman like himself; he notices a hard-working employee at his Store #1; with every ambitious underdog that Ray recruits, he soon discovers that those with family values and a solid work ethic make the best managers. And there is a record-scratch of irony that rends the fabric of spacetime itself: Ray, a ruthless, unscrupulous shark hiring only honest, honorable men. Ironic that Ray, who would meet a franchise owner’s wife and take her for his own, would promote “family values” to his customers; that this cynical cutthroat banked on the whole world being attracted to innocence for his restaurant chain to flourish.

Linda Cardellini is that other woman, playing Joan Smith with over-blond hair and over-red lips, wife to Rollie Smith (Patrick Wilson). She introduces the idea of powdered milkshake mix – to save on crippling freezer costs. Back in that faroff era, both Dick and Mac McDonald refused the packaged mix – until Ray just shipped boxes of it to all “his” franchises, who adopted it, eventually sending a case to the brothers.

Dick: “There’s a wolf in the henhouse.” But it was worse than that.

Lawyer Harry J. Sonneborn (B.J. Novak) allies with Kroc. And it’s all over but the special sauce: “You’re not in the burger business – you’re in the real estate business.” In an ingenious move, Sonneborn convinces Ray to buy land – the land that the franchised buildings must rest on. And Ray buys the land of the brothers’ number one store as well. Which effectively meant they started paying him rent as their landlord.

By the time Ray Kroc has decimated the McDonald brothers’ holdings, interests and influence in their own company, we realize the ambitious entrepreneur we are conditioned to root for in movies has turned into a covetous nightmare fiend. Keaton is electric in the role, and we recall how Satan doesn’t come like a villain, but charms us into evil.

As morbid as Kroc’s takeover was, it’s a lesson in how to efficiently get out of a contract with no negotiating: become richer than the person you work for; Too Big To Nail. Prosaic but profound, in a world where might is right and money is power.

Dick McDonald constantly reminded Kroc of his contractual obligations to the brothers. In the end, Kroc would buy McDonald’s out for $2.7 million, and a handshake deal for 1% of all profits to the McDonald brothers in perpetuity – which he never paid…

We do see Coca-Cola become a corporate sponsor (against the wishes of the McDonald brothers), but movie ends before we see the advent of toy tie-ins, fries that taste like shoelaces and never go stale, charities allying with the company, the drive-thru, the “billions served” marquees, or the iconic “M” being instigated into the name, even though there were always “golden arches” adorning the restaurants. We are also a long way from seeing the death-smiling clown “second only to Santa Claus in terms of recognition,” Ronald McDonald (created 1963 by Willard Scott), or his minions, including the character that would be a literal epithet for Ray Kroc – the Hamburglar.

What started as a poor man trying to make ends meet, became an unethical corporate juggernaut that nothing could keep down – like a meal at McDonald’s.

END

“Don’t look now, but I think our coffee stains are trying to invade us.”

Mind Encounters of the Close Kind.

Unless I’m mistaken, she’s stuck in a time-loop, where extra-terrestrials, having arrived, affect her past, present and future… How do we say Hello? And how do we tell the stupid people of Earth to butt out of the conversation?

ARRIVAL is an intelligent science fiction Möbius strip that speculates on the first contact between humans and extra-terrestrial beings. Speculations not just on how to say Take Me To Your Leader, but on the nature of time and space; a pondering on communication itself, and how we as a species are so lost in translation amongst ourselves.

Poffy Arriving

In twelve locations around Earth, gigantic cylindrical extra-terrestrial ships hover soundlessly; made from unknown materials, warping gravitational fields, causing widespread panic with the primitives that call themselves the rulers of the planet.

Linguist Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) is called in by the U.S. government to translate the language of the aliens hovering in the Montana skies. Physicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner) also plays a part in translation, and somehow a part in Louise’s life that is not your average boy-girl meet cute. What they discover is an ambiguity wrapped in a warning and twisted into fourth dimensional pretzels.

And world governments and all of humanity react accordingly, i.e. like a monkey house, screeching unintelligibly and flinging feces at each other.

Reportedly an excellent filmic adaption of Ted Chiang’s 1998 sf story, The Story of Your Life, ARRIVAL is that rare, controlled film that does not talk down to its audience, and asks us to ponder every scene like the presumably intellectual beings we claim to be. In Chiang’s own words: “it seems like the project has managed to avoid the typical Hollywood disasters you hear about.” (interview, Electric Literature).

The aliens (whom the scientists call “heptapods” due to their seven appendages) communicate via a written language unlike any other we have witnessed in science fiction – splooshing out an inky substance that forms a rough circular shape, with each minute striation and blotch carrying meaning.

The first word Louise tries to communicate is “human.” This is where the film tripped and bashed its face on ego. How about “hello”? Or – as Carl Sagan judiciously instructed in his brilliant novel Contact – how about a basic course on mathematics, as that – not English – is truly the universal language?

Forest Whitaker (with a strange Boston accent that might be alien), is Colonel Weber, in touch with military and political bases around the world communicating with their own hovering aliens, all of whom gradually become wary of each other because each reads into the aliens’ messages their own insecurities. Louise even makes an analogy: if you communicated via chess, then everything would be about opposition and battle; if you communicated via game tiles, then all your messages are based around that strategy; if you taught someone just to be a hammer, then (Weber completes the thought) “everything else is just a nail.” And human military is trained to be nothing but a hammer. They prove the analogy with the single explosion in this film – a bomb placed by American dopes in camo, acting on limbic instinct and tribal parochialism. Now the good thing about this human stupidity is that it is regarded as such by the filmmakers – this is not a “Go USA” or heroic moment; it is seen as stultifying if not damaging irreparably the progress made by Louise.

“So this is what a VHS video tape feels like…”

“Offer weapon.”

Louise tentatively translates, knowing it could mean myriad things in different contexts, but it’s ambiguous enough that the monkey house goes nuts and sends countries fleeing offline and executing their generals for deciphering it, in order to keep it secret from the world.

The heptapods clarify that they are trying to help humans in the present, so that in 3,000 years, humans will return the favor and help the heptapods… Not regarding time as linear, they sense the past, present and future all at once… Wait – they need humans to help them as a species? Man, they really picked the wrong end of the galaxy on that one.

The heptapods’ written language is a metaphor for the plot that wends in and upon itself. “Their writing is free of time, no forward or backward direction. Imagine writing with both hands from either side: you would have to know all the words you’re going to use and the space you would need for all of them.” Only after viewing the movie in full, do we realize it too is constructed this way. In the heart-breaking prologue, Louise births a daughter named Hannah (her name, a palindrome), who grows to a teen and dies of cancer (“Come back to me…”); and like Hannah’s name, the movie itself palindromes us, as it winds to a wondrous conclusion that mirrors its beginning. Come back to me.

It’s a brilliant concept that treads mysticism in its final moments, but then, as Arthur C. Clarke told us, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” And in the final moments, Ian (Renner) calls Hannah “starstuff” – a conscious nod to Sagan, one of his favorite phrases from COSMOS: A PERSONAL VOYAGE.

This cerebral film is not for Marvel-lites who expect punching in place of thinking; it is not for fans of INDEPENDENCE DAY et al, who expect alien ideas based around human concepts instead of out-of-the-box technology that can hardly be comprehended by human standards.  ARRIVAL is true science fiction, updating Carl Sagan’s ideas of extra-terrestrial contact. Sagan postulated in Contact that extra-terrestrial intelligences would initiate contact with only those civilizations who could understand the means of communication. In Sagan’s story, mathematics was used as the universal language, for indeed it is, no matter what it might be called by other intelligences. In other words, only those who could decipher the message – with radio astronomy, and technology beyond fire and the wheel – would be recipients of the message. Those who did not possess the means to understand the message would simply not see it; in essence, it would not even exist for them.

A traumatic alien encounter is good enough excuse
for a quick grope.

So too, this movie, screenplayed by Eric Heisserer (HOURS) and directed by Denis Villeneuve (SICARIO), is only for those who have the necessary axons and dendrites to perceive it. This concept is built into the reason the ships hover and do not land: According to production designer Patrice Vermette [from imdb Trivia]: “The twelve identical ships would hover twenty-eight feet above the ground in delicate equilibrium, leaving it to Earth’s people to make the final outreach to contact them.” Any organisms too primitive to do this – the ships’ message is not for them.

And Jóhann Jóhannsson‘s eerie soundtrack immerses us in its alien embrace. Fully half the suspense and enigma emanates from this pulsing, wailing, mobius-twisting otherworldly sound design.

I like the “kangaroo” story. Louise tells of the British who landed on Australian shores, asking the Aborigines what that animal was that hopped around and put their babies in their pouch. The Aborigines said “kangaroo”– and only later was it discovered that kangaroo meant “We don’t understand.” A story as bullshit as the phrase “shrimp on the barbie” – the point being, you can never really know what the other person is saying…

Another movie that elevates scientists, linguists, mathematicians – you know, smart people – and portrays the military as the belligerent, fearful dumbasses they are trained to be. The military minds opine the heptapods are cajoling humans to fight amongst themselves until one faction prevails. So they start fighting. I imagine that when aliens do arrive, they will never fathom the small-mindedness, fear and ignorance of this civilization that somehow conquered space travel. I have no faith in the intelligence of humanity any more. America keeps jowling about “minorities” taking over – but in the America of 2016, the intelligent have been proven to be the biggest minority! Being browbeaten into the shadows by necks redder than baboon asses.

Pfuh! Humans! The quicker we are wiped out, the better. Really. If a smarter extra-terrestrial civilization exists, is there any reason for us to clutter the galaxy with our irrepressible petulant selfishness, our dripping dicks and our amoeba-brained Trumps?

Hel-LO? How do we tell the stupid people of Earth to butt out of the conversation when extra-terrestrials, having arrived, affect our past, present and future? Unless I’m mistaken, we’re stuck in a time-loop…

END

The Five-Point Tom-Cruise Bike-Shoot Exploding-Palm Technique.

The Bourne Non-Identity.

Poor Jeremy Renner! First he takes a job as the least of THE AVENGERS, now he’s on a job as the least of the BOURNEs! He’s a good actor, he’s got charisma, he’s inshape, seems like a nice guy – but when will he get a break as a leading man?

Jason Bourne IS Hawkeye! THE BOURNE LEGACY finds Renner as Aaron Cross, pitted against the same shadowy organization that plagued Jason Bourne – Treadstone. (And you thought that the slogan meant Renner was another agent named “Bourne,” right? – “There Was Never Only One.”)

We meet Cross hiding out in snowy mountains, in an opening frame that alludes to Bourne’s opening scene – a man floating in water. We discover Cross is some kind of agent undergoing enhancements for his speed, agility, strength, reflexes (hmm, you mean like some kind of… “super-soldier”?). He is pill-popping, being kept in isolation, and living off the land like a bear gryll. Meanwhile, in another part of the movie, there are rooms of drogues sitting at computers trying to locate a guy named Jason Bourne, represented by Matt Damon’s face on a computer monitor.

Cross discovers another agent like him living in the woods (Oscar Isaac). But before Cross can find answers to his existence or purpose, a missile soon ends Oscar’s life and their budding bromance.

Eventually, Cross will discover Treadstone initiated this super-soldier program –cough-Captain America— and are now closing it down, thus killing all the agents involved and all the doctors who administered the enhancement drugs. One of the doctors is Dr. Shearing (Rachel Weisz), who would fulfill the role of Female Who Runs From Danger With Hero.

The filmmakers (director-writer Tony Gilroy and co-writer Dan Gilroy) are trying to retroactively tell us that the Jason Bourne we know (created by author Robert Ludlum) from the past three films has always been one of these “super-soldiers” as well, which is why David Strathairn and Stacy Keach and Joan Allen were trying to kill him in all those films. Wait! Wasn’t Bourne just a well-trained assassin? He wasn’t “enhanced”! Was he? Are these writers George Lucasing us with midi-chlorians?

The difference between Cross and Bourne is: when all those assassins were trying to kill Jason Bourne, we cared.

The filmmakers know this, and continually insert reminders of Matt Damon into the script. There is a scene where Paddy Considine exits a doorway and is shot in the head – a scene lifted directly from THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM. It’s meant to be happening in this movie’s timeline right now, meaning that they’re implying Matty is running around just offscreen somewhere. But it only reminds us that if this movie is happening while a better BOURNE movie is going on just offscreen somewhere – we’d rather be watching that BOURNE movie.

THE BOURNE LEGACY has the whiff of one of those sidebar tales that Tolkien or a fantasy writer might pen as a supplementary tale to their main epic narrative that no one cares about except themselves. It’s a story about what was done to make Jason Bourne what he is (–cough–supposedly), but it’s following a B-character instead of Bourne. Like we care.

So many actors here that I like, who can do nothing to salvage the irrelevant script. Oscar Isaac, unnecessarily terminated. Edward Norton as David Strathairn, shouting at doofuses at computer monitors to “get him the visuals right now” and “close down the exits” and “don’t let him escape” and “is the outcome terminated.” (Don’t make him angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.) Corey Stoll, as one of the shoutees. Big fat Stacy Keach leaning over tables that creak under his elephantine bulk. Even the real David Strathairn for two seconds; Joan Allen for one second; Matt Damon as a jpg for three-tenths of a second.

Treadstone sends a Japanese assassin after Cross and Shearing. And there is a bike-chase which should be second act fodder, which shockingly has to suffice as the “exciting” climax of the film, with some very vanilla CGI, and nothing seemingly at stake except this B-character who isn’t Bourne and this chick who administered him drugs, who, ironically, has no chemistry with him.

Damon turned down this movie because he said, “The script was shit.” It is. But this would not have been the story had Damon been involved. It must have morphed after he declined it, and the filmmakers had to resort to those gimmicks of inserting him peripherally. From what we hear, the story may have been structured to focus on Damon, with Renner being a secondary character. No matter now, as the whole franchise is compromised. Wait, now I see why Treadstone wants to wipe out all traces of their program if one small element is compromised – they’re right! Destroy this film! Terminate! Terminate! Terminate!

END

Captain America: Bromance War.

Captain America versus Iron Man in a battle to the bromosexual.

When The Avengers try to stop a terrorist from killing civilians, and end up killing civilians themselves, the United Nations steps in and calls a halt to their devastating pearbottoms.

General Ross (William Hurt, playing a character from Hulk lore, in this movie where the Hulk doesn’t appear) slams down a document signed by 117 countries called The Sokovia Accords, which states “The Avengers shall no longer be a private organization, instead operate under the supervision of a UN panel, and only when that panel deems it necessary.” After everyone stops snoring, Ross tells them they have to sign the document or retire. (God knows how anyone would enforce a vigilante retiring, but that’s another beargarden…)

Half the Avengers agree, the other half grab Cap’s dick and run away. So begins The Avengers’ ideological split, the faction giving the government the middle finger led by Captain America/Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), the faction taking it in the ass from the government led by Iron Man/Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) – “We need to be put in check!” (Man, I always thought Tony was a Top.) Has he been watching BATMAN V SUPERMAN? – the same plot development of the government trying to regulate supers. But which came first – the chicken or the egg? The Marvel or the DC?

Up in General Ross’ video room, it’s a backstory carnival, as he shows the assembled Avengers (Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Vision, Falcon, War Machine, and Scarlet Witch) a litany of destruction from THE AVENGERS, CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER, and AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON. Before anyone pipes up and remarks that it isn’t really government surveillance footage but just excerpts from Marvel movies, Cap raises the question on how much destruction and death would have occurred had the superheroes NOT intervened? (Has be been watching BATMAN V SUPERMAN?) Can’t people tell when they’re better off? Apparently not, as no matter how good anything is, there is always someone on YouTube ready to type “fag” as the first comment.

Vision (Paul Bettany) voices the notion that due to the Avengers existing, it brings into existence “super” villains to match their excessive power. Even this is not a new idea, expressed offhandedly in KICK ASS 2. (An opposite stance is taken in the Nolan/Bale DARK KNIGHT movies, where the existence of overpowered villains spawned the need for a superpowered vigilante.)

Is there any doubt this cool cat will get his own movie?

A subplot revolves around The Winter Soldier/Bucky (Sebastian Stan) and his brainwashing. Every time he is “activated” (by Russians? Hydra? SHIELD?) he goes all badboy and bombs something. A Russian agent tails him – the guy who played the young German hero in INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS, Daniel Brühl. When Winty blows up a UN conference, he unleashes the vengeance of – T’Challa! Oh yes!! As unbelievable as it may sound, Marvel dredges up one of its lesser-known yet super-cool underground heroes – King T’Challa, The Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), an African jungle warrior, protector of his nation, Wakanda. Panther chases Winty, Cap chases Panthy, everyone doing the Movie Run through traffic. Panthy is simply all about killing Winty as vengeance for Winty killing his father. While Cap tries to fend off Panthy’s fury, he must also fend off Iron Man’s man-iron.

Cap doesn’t make it any easier on anyone to stop lusting after him, by grabbing a helicopter trying to fly away, with just his bare biceps and big American dick, in a t-shirt two sizes too small. He grabs the railing of a roof with one arm and the helicopter’s landing skid with the other, arms throbbing in sensual fury, blue eyes straining, corded thighs and taut buttocks clenched in animal thrust… He holds the helicopter only as long as it takes for the women in the audience to orgasm.

Speaking of Agent Carter – Cap’s love interest from the 1940s who looked like Bill Hader  – she dies. Enter her niece Sharon (Emily VanCamp), a smooth-bottom hottie who tries to Friend Zone Cap, for decency’s sake (I mean, this man was almost-boyfriend to her old aunt), but keeps staring into his cerulean blue peepers during business meetings. We know she just wants to be his helicopter.

Speaking of robosexual, Vision tries cultivating Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) while he keeps her captive, when suddenly — Hawkeye! OH YEAH! The superhero we were all waiting for! Bringing with him a level of action like an assistant manager at a grocery store, Jeremy Renner is still inexplicably Hawkeye, rescuing Wanda from Vision, meaning that Wanda puts a hex on Vision while Hawkeye watches. Big help. (That’s what they call him down at the grocery store.)

Straight from his first miscast movie as a superhero, Paul Rudd as Ant-Man, kinda amazed to be around Captain America’s groin. You and us both, Rudd. Anthony Mackie is still Falcon, Cap’s bro who is not jealous at all that Cap gives more ‘mance to Winty. (Falcon has a stupid electronic drone sidekick called Redwing; in the comics, it’s a real falcon.)

It all comes down to the airport scene, right? For months, people have been wetting their panties for this action scene which features every single hero in the film going mano a mano against every other hero. For easy understanding, we lay it out thus:

But it is the single stupidest, illogical, irrelevant sequence in the movie. All the heroes gather together at an airport runway and run at each other to – we presume – punch it out. This is what the fate of the world boils down to? Punching? Widow even says to Cap at one point, “Do you really wanna punch your way outa this one?” Of course he does, woman! He’s a White American Male… Do these super-powered beings even need to run at each other? Nearly all of them have capabilities to attack opponents without going near them. Even Hawkeye! (BTW, why is Hawkeye running at Iron Man and War Machine and Vision? What’s he planning on doing when he gets to them?) Then there’s Scarlet Witch and Vision – two MAGICS who could’ve done all this from home! The scene forces us to ask: Why is this movie under the CAPTAIN AMERICA brand anyway? There are more Avengers in this film than there were in THE AVENGERS.

This scene is simply a dead end. It’s the superhero equivalent of a car chase, a drum solo by Phil Rudd, a speech by Donald Trump – something which goes nowhere and means nothing. Is anyone really trying to hurt anyone else? They’re all goody-two-shoes, all working for the benefit of society, and they all know it. They’re pulling their punches and girl-slapping and half-heartedly lasering each other – for what? Look, just fuck and get it over with!

The only character arc is Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), who helps Cap and Bucky escape to go do some ambiguously-bromosexual things in Russia. For which Tony has a zinger, “Guess it’s not easy to stop being a double agent!” Oh, snap!

Suddenly – Spider-Man! Tony recruits the barely legal webslinger (Tom Holland), and almost fucks his Aunt May (a steaming Marisa Tomei). Apparently, Tony also bequeathed Peter Parker his Spidey underoos. It’s a fun performance of a zygote Parker (“Hey, anyone seen that really old movie, THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK?”), but also a slap in the face to Andrew Garfield, who gave a grand nuanced performance in AMAZING SPIDER-MAN 2 and was vilified when the grosses went down through no fault of his.

Spidey, on Cap’s shield: “That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all!”

Tony speaks to his new computer, Friday, about something disconnecting his circuits – Ant-Man in his armor! – reminding us of that disturbing 1974 Batman comic (The Corpse That Wouldn’t Die) where Atom went into Batman’s brain and made him walk around and battle as a zombie to solve one last case. But why does Ant-Man act like one of those Jack-and-the-Beanstalk giants when he grows to Giant Man size?

At least there are answers to some of the most important questions that fanboys dare:

• Can Cap’s shield cut through Spidey’s web?
• Can Winty’s arm punch through Iron Man’s armor?
• Can Scarlet Witch overpower Vision?
• Can Giant Man hold back War Machine?
• Is Vision metrosexual? (Then why is he wearing the Abercrombie catalog?)
• Can Cap’s shield break Iron Man’s armor?
• Can Panthy’s claws scratch Cap’s shield?
• Can Black Widow stop Black Panther?
• Can Hawkeye overpower anyone?

Ultimately, the amount of destruction the Avengers wreak on the airport is just as bad as any super criminal whose plan was to halt all air traffic in America.

CIVIL WAR is a sprawling epic, taking us around the world (from Lagos to London, from Berlin to Washington DC), and is generally well-directed by Anthony Russo and Joe Russo (although they sometimes fall into herky-jerky thigh-cam vision when Black Widow is taking down bad guys with her muff). It is an adult movie, with parental murders and lost friendships and moral relativism, that happens to concern superheroes. And the inclusion of the superheroes is why it sometimes falters, by catering to the inconsistencies of pitting so many super-powered beings against each other.

The final scenes are powerful yet silly. Two men, whose friendship is played very well, are at a breaking point due to a life of unrevealed lies, to save each other from a life of pain.

In one respect, Iron Man is perceived in this movie as a pussy, trying to make his friends drink the gubmint Kool-Aid. On the other hand, it could be seen as Iron Man trying to save his friends’ lives, as the government would surely kill them if they remained outlaws. What to do? The universal solvent: punch. Although pitting Iron Man against Captain America is laughable. Like Superman against Batman. With the same solution: Just shoot him in the face.

THE POWERFUL: It is so majestic, it is cover art. Cap and Iron Man locked in stalemate; Cap with shield raised, Iron Man whooming both palm repulsor rays straight at it.
THE SILLY: Are you serious, Tony? Shoot at his legs. (Even Spider-Man says to Cap, “Mr. Stark said to go for your legs!” Which means Tony knows this tactic – yet chooses to keep both palms aimed at the shield.) Look, it’s easy, angle one down at those majestic supple thighs and then we can all go home.

Then Cap gets on top of Iron Man and he’s pounding him and pounding him and pounding– and then, I guess they stop because someone came.

END

“Mmm, yes! I’m losing! I really tried NOT to get in this position and lose this fight! Really I did, but you’re just too good for me! Mmm, sniff, mmm!…”

Mission TomCruise-able.

You know what the real Mission: Impossible is? Trying to get insurance for Tom Cruise. Oh, there is eventually a signature in blood on the dotted line, or this film would not be greenlit, but can any layman truly speculate what devil’s percentage of the box office these insurance companies are demanding in return – to insure a celebrity almost Too Big To Insure?

And there he goes – the billion-dollar star cabled to the outside of a military airplane like a fucking lunatic – while insurance companies bite their nails in anguish that they might have to actually pay up the projected opening weekend grosses of MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – ROGUE NATION should the lunatic plummet to Earth like the fallen angel he is…

Tom Cruise (EDGE OF TOMORROW) is once again Ethan Hunt. IMF Superspy. And I-do-my-own-stunts lunatic. In this fifth impossible mission – to do a movie without sensually shaving his torso. And to get insured.

CIA chief Huntley (Alec Baldwin, STILL ALICE) believes Ethan “is the arsonist and the firefighter, creating the criminal scenarios that he fixes,” so shuts down IMF in a Court Of Old Farts, where Ethan’s colleague in action pants, Brandt (Jeremy Renner, AVENGERS), represents IMF like Alberto Gonzalez testifying on torture, “I can neither confirm nor deny any details about any operation…”

A fugitive from his own government, Tom Cruise’s torso is pitted against a rogue spy organization within the world spy network, called The Syndicate. Led by Solomon Lane (weasel-featured Sean Harris, PROMETHEUS), more ruthless, more Russian and more spy-ish than IMF, Ethan’s last hope for acquittal from his government is to bring them down – and he can only depend on himself. And his torso.

His boy band from the last few outings returns: Simon Pegg (THE WORLD’S END) as Ethan’s bottom bitch slash Damsel In Distress, Ving Rhames (FORCE OF EXECUTION) as one of those blowup clowns that you can’t knock over, and Jeremy Renner as The Voice Of Reason: “I can neither confirm nor deny any details about any operation…”

Tom Hollander has gone from Commander of the British Navy (PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2), to political dust mote (IN THE LOOP), to the Prime Minister of England here, with hardly anything to do to match his wit and talent.

Balancing the raging testosterone, Rebecca Ferguson (HERCULES 2014) as Ilsa, double-agenting for Solomon Lane, or maybe the annoying British – we’ll never know, not as long as our attention is diverted by that dress too long to walk in, and her cunnilingus-karate (that fighting style created for modern movie chicks that involves opening their supple thighs indecently and closing them around a man’s grateful head. Let me guess: a MAN created this style, right? Knife fight with big guy – cutting, slashing, falling, edging forward – Ow! Ah! Orgasm sounds! Ugh! You ripped my dress! Ehh! – as soon as she uses her thigh-kwon-do, it’s all over).

By the way, if you’re here for the plane gag, that’s over and done in the cold open, before the opening credits. Unrelated to anything else in the film, purely for wow factor, an A400M airbus takes off with Mr. Cruise holding on to a closed side door, with nothing but a cable rig and Lafayette Ron Hubbard keeping him from harm. It’s interesting to note that all the posters for this movie feature a different stunt, because – Tom Cruise Tom Cruise.

Now we see the wind resistance benefits of the shaved torso.

Pursuing Solomon Lane takes Ethan to Europe (we do love our tentpole budget), where he finds himself having to deter the assassination of a Euro president during an opera, Puccini’s Turandot. During the aria Nessun Dorma, he sees two assassins from each side of the room aiming at the president and must decide which one to shoot first – no matter who he chooses, the other will then surely kill the president. The person he finally decides to shoot – which derails the assassination – is an elegant solution. Coolest part about this sequence is that the classy Nessun Dorma would be woven into the soundtrack from now on.

In a primal fear underwater sequence, Ethan must hold his breath for an impossible three minutes of exertion while he switches a coded disk. As gripping as this sequence is, does any villain organization really keep the codes to their employees in a subterranean underwater tank on waterproof disks each in their own compartment with thousands of pounds of pressure generated from artificial undertow created by spinning robotic arms? Did I just describe the Department of Motor Vehicles?

…and then hell ride a motorbike chase through oncoming traffic, with innumerable moving violations, even by European standards. (They’ve done something to The Car Chase in this movie – they’ve made it interesting!) And yes, that’s Tom Cruise really leaning through every curve on that bucking bronco, taunting his Allstate Insurance deductible. More thrilling than dry-shaving your torso…

…all while Ilsa double-crosses him, while trying not to kill him, while making it look like she is trying to kill him, while Simon Pegg helps him by stuttering, and Ving Rhames and Jeremy Renner wander around like day players.

Christopher McQuarrie (writer, THE USUAL SUSPECTS) writes and directs this lavish production with a sure grip, and keeps the action visually astounding and spatially logical (by this I mean, all his action sequences seem to take place in three dimensions – note the plane gag, opera catwalk, underwater, bike chase along side of mountain, etc.); he keeps the dialogue humorous and basic as per action movie protocol, and keeps Tom Cruise alive for insurance companies.

Still, it seems a mission impossible to make a movie without so many glaring plot inconsistencies:

• In opening scene, why does Pegg reveal himself just to talk on the comm? He never has to lift his head above the camouflaging grass. You call yourself a field agent? Stay hidden like one!
• The elusive genius Solomon has spent years working behind Ethan’s back to thwart him; at this moment, there is still no tactical reason to reveal himself to Ethan, yet he does. And Ethan’s sketch of Solomon is instrumental in Solomon’s downfall.
• Oh, add cartoonist to Ethan’s long list of annoying virtuosities.
• When Solomon trapped Ethan in a glass case of emotion, why not use POISON GAS to KILL him, instead of knocking him out just to see him tied topless to a whipping post?
• Topless? Why not naked? Are you trying to kill him, torture him or arouse him? Either way, why the modesty?
• Why is the key to Ethan’s cuffs in such close proximity to Ethan at the whipping post?
• Ethan says he’s been tailing Solomon around the world as he causes giant disasters – but in this modern world, you don’t have to physically BE in any location to make anything happen there. (Alec Baldwin was right – Ethan was just using the IMF budget to gallivant on holiday!)
• Jesus, this really annoyed me: The orchestra wouldn’t be checking their instruments in five minutes before downbeat. PRIMAL SCREAM AT IGNORANCE OF FILMMAKERS THAT SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

Overarching the minutiae, I constantly wonder where Ethan and his outlaw team get access to all those neato devices as convenient as Batman’s utility belt. It seems that whether their spy agency is supporting them or not, they can easily get fake passports, vehicles, food, shelter, weapons, clothing, safe houses, ultra-tech diving gear, even those realistic facemasks THAT STILL KEEP FOOLING EVERYONE. If the plot of a movie involves everything being ripped from the hero, then the hero should not have access to anything, let alone EVERYTHING. You can’t have it both ways. When a hero has everything ripped from him, he has to use his ingenuity to survive and rise from the fall, but not Ethan – he just uses any IMF tech gear he needs, and his sensually shaved torso.

That’s why this movie – and its dangers – comes off as hollow fun.

ROGUE NATION tries for some introspection with Ilsa noting, “We only think we’re fighting for the right side because that’s what we choose to believe.” IMF calls The Syndicate a terrorist network, yet that is from their frame of reference, because The Syndicate is messing with their terrorist activity. Let’s face it, to scores of countries, the CIA is the true terrorist network– cough-Shah of Iran, cough-Saddam, cough-Cuba… if I go on, I’ll never be able to stop this coughing convulsion…

But I’m sure no one is here to ponder such truisms. It’s always a mission impossible trying to tease out the truth with so much thigh and torso to distract us. You know I’m talking about Tom Cruise.

END

Okay you guys, bring it in for that group shot– oh, Hulk, didn’t expect to see you here, babe; how did you even read the call-sheet? Liz honey, less ass, more side-boob, okay? Oh, and Quickie, babe, don’t look so dangerous. You can run fast, honey – not dangerous. Thor, more tricep. Will Iron Man and Captain America PLEASE GET YOUR MASKS ON? You’re superheroes – not astronauts! Vision? Where’s Vision? Someone go get his interdimensional ass out of bed, will you? Cap, lose the shield, you’re covering the pearbottom responsible for the funding. Uh, Hawkeye, face the camera son, there’s only so much introspection we’re gonna buy from Marvel’s least lucrative property.
And will someone tell those robots to clear the shot?!…

Blammo Brigade finds Intelligence. Artificially.

AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON is not just your same ole blammo-fest with sugarbottom; merely the second movie in the AVENGERS franchise, ULTRON has moved leaps and bounds beyond its predecessor. Yes, there is blammo, but interspersed liberally with morally ambiguous characterization, tentative romance, quiet introspection, self-effacing humor and – that trend in modern plot devices – Artificial Intelligence. Oh, and there’s Vision – but we’ll get to that magnificence in a moment… Dare we call this movie a dark symphony? Ooooh, dare, dare!

The Avengers, once again consisting of a god, a titanium-armored physicist, a serum-enhanced soldier, a gamma-irradiated indestructible geneticist, a thigh-kwon-do espionage agent, and a guy who can aim real good. They will soon be joined by a hex-wielding empath and a guy who can run real fast.

Behold… The Poffy!

Like X-MEN developed into The Continuing Story of Wolverine, AVENGERS is merely The Continuing Story of Iron Man aka Tony Stark aka Robert Downey Jr. (They’re all the same person, right?) All the other Avengers’ roles may as well be extras who punch real good. There’s Thor (Chris Hemsworth; someone wake me when this thunder god decides to use his full powers), Captain America (Chris Evans; throw shield, flash dreamy eyes, punch, repeat), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson; just back dat pearbottom up, darlin,’ don’t say a word), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo, the old dog, enters the cast and steals Widow away from Cap), and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner, who is fleshed out here with mature backstory… TMI, Marvel Studios, T-M-I!). They will be joined by Russian twins, Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen, adding schoolgirl skirt to the pearbottom quotient; aka Wanda Maximoff, not really known as “Scarlet Witch” except through our a priori comics knowledge), and Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson, also never called by his “superhero” name, but Pietro Maximoff).

There are also fun cameos by Idris Elba (as Heimdall, THOR), Stellan Skarsgård (as scientist Selvig, THOR), Andy Serkis (as a weather-beaten underground arms dealer), Anthony Mackie (as Falcon, CAPTAIN AMERICA: WINTER SOLDIER) and Don Cheadle (as War Machine, IRON MAN 2). Samuel L. Jackson is Nick Fury, Cobie Smulders picks up a pearbottom paycheck, Thomas Kretschmann is a HYDRA villain and Stan Lee is – Stan Lee.

But Stark is the one to watch, as he tips into megalomania, and creates the Artificial Intelligence “peace-keeping program” called Ultron, the supposed villain of the piece. (Wait! Didn’t Hank Pym create Ultron? –Get thee behind me, Comics Dweeb!) But if Stark is responsible for the creation of this “villain” then rightfully, ethically and technically, he is the villain. (Don’t blame the children – blame the parents.) He admits this himself in a soul-searching moment, “I’m the man who killed the Avengers.” But audiences will never grasp this nuance – not least because of the way Western moviemaking has conditioned us to regard any ambiguously moral “hero” as a “tortured genius” rather than an actual villain. Movie villains were easy to identify when they were mad scientists using blue bzzz things to make monsters, or Bond nemeses with designs on bettering the world through their fascism… It seems like a billion dollars, cars, chicks, quips, and hi-tech titanium armor will mitigate that “mad scientist” or “evil leader” tag to “playboy billionaire.” When all Tony really is – is an update of that age-old Dr. Frankenstein/Ernst Blofeld trope.

“By Odin’s blood, my knackers are sweaty! I need to change my skirt.”

Like any good leader who wants “peace in our time” Tony has turned fascist, with his ranting that he has “no time for a town hall meeting with the Avengers! I don’t want to hear the ‘man-was-not-meant-to-meddle’ medley; I see a suit of armor around the world.” At film’s opening – besides the cheesy/stock action sequence that would pull all the Avengers into a dynamic/wanky single frame – we see Tony’s cool Iron Men drones policing the skies. Even if it’s for peace, well, that’s one man’s version of peace.

Tony unilaterally unleashes Ultron (voiced by James Spader like Vincent Price reborn), who is a computer program, and represented physically by an 8-foot tall golden robot. Being an app, he can travel amongst the web and into innumerable other robots – cue Tony’s Iron Men drogues – so his ideology can be in multiple beings at once. The story is written and directed (by Joss Whedon) in such a way that Ultron becomes conscious by himself after number-crunching J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony’s supercomputer, but again, don’t let Western filmmaking fool you into giving Tony a pass.

A naked Iron Man shares a romantic moment with Ultron.

Being a “peacekeeping program,” Ultron comes at us with the line, “I’m here to help,” like the thoughtpolice in Orwell’s 1984, or like Republicans shilling for the Koch brothers while cutting your benefits and telling you it’s an improvement. Ultron takes “peacekeeping” to its logical end, using his A.I. reductive reasoning to discern that Mankind has to go. He means, like, totally. Poffy concurs. Mankind is now the Earth’s problem, not the solution. With the propensity for birthing more offspring than are being allowed to die, it’s not even Man’s miniscule augmentation to “climate change” that is destroying the Earth; nor his wars or reality shows; rather simply, overpopulation and its attendant logistical survival problems (which is why there is widespread poverty), which include raping Earth’s resources, making it unpeaceful for all life. That, and his CONFOUNDING STUPIDITY.

Tony’s mission statement is later repeated by Ultron – “peace in our time.” If Ultron was intentionally “evil” then it would be a sarcastic jab at Tony, but if Ultron sincerely believes that eradicating humanity will bring peace, then it is just a courtesy reminder.

Every synopsis you read will claim Ultron is the “villain” but he is NOT. He is an A.I. that runs a scenario to its logical conclusion and determines organic life is pointless because it ends in death. (Life is a means to an end – merely serving to propagate genetic material across lifespans). Humans are organic and they actively destroy all life as well. In the name of peace on Earth, they deserve extermination. Sagan and DeGrasse Tyson might remind us we are the same molecular material circulating as starstuff in a closed loop of unending beginnings. All nihilism aside, we’re still pointless. Self-awareness makes us erroneously believe in “purpose” but that’s debatable if the ultimate denouement is death. And reality shows.

When Computer Graphics fight, we ALL lose.

Though AGE OF ULTRON raises A.I. issues (to its credit), it merely scrapes the surface, rather than dive into intricacies (like EX MACHINA, THE MACHINE, or even CHAPPIE), to make way for blammo. And pray tell, the punching stylings of our supers need to be revisited from time to time to keep the Attention-Deficits in order. (That whole Iron Man/Hulkbuster sequence has got to be the most superfluous piece of eye-jiggering diabetes-candy since the last TRANSFORMERS debacle disguised as a movie. A friend suggested a title for this review: “Age Of Dulltron,” and Lord knows, I’m tryin’ Ringo, I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd and make you the righteous movie, but with this collateral damage-fest, maybe it means that you’re the weak, and that CGI is the tyranny of evil men…)

So to the movie’s discredit, the A.I. element is simplistic. The Avengers tell Stark, “Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. Where do you think he gets that?” implying that A.I. is “bad” “evil” “contra humans.” (Almost like the JURASSIC PARK series misrepresents carnivorous dinosaurs – a natural cog in any ecosystem – as “evil” villains.) But how can any kind of “Intelligence” – artificial or otherwise – be villainous? Well, here it is, personified by the mechanical man with the faux-British accent, quoting the bible and Pinocchio in equal jest. (He loves his fantasy books, that Ultron!)

To be or not to be: that is the Vision.

Then, riding a bucking steed of electric lightning, comes… VISION!

Oh Captain my captain. Oh Vision my vision! J.A.R.V.I.S. and an Infinity Stone had a baby and his name was – Vision. (Wait! Wasn’t Vision created using the brain patterns of Wonder Man? –Get thee to a nunnery, Comics Dweeb!) Vision is Paul Bettany, eternally the voice of J.A.R.V.I.S., at last joining his actor cohorts in outlandishly colorful tights.

And he is uber cool. He is Mr. Ice. He is The Breeze.

With powers beyond imagining, wisdom beyond comprehension, and hued in deep purple like Jon Lord – so he must be a god… Martin Luther King should have said, “I have a Vision.” Survivor should have serenaded Rocky with “Vision Of The Tiger.” That guy cured by Jesus should’ve shouted from the mountaintops, “I was blind but now I have Vision!” He’s aloof, soft-spoken, incorruptible, inscrutable, all-knowing, all-powerful, the zero-Kelvin coolest Marvel cat of all. That scene of Thor, Iron Man and Vision in a line, like a rock band at a row of mics, all beaming power rays at Ultron – now that’s what superhero movies were made for!

I need to put my pants back on.

The key to Marvel’s and DC’s success in bringing “childish” superhero tales to modern masses is not so much the fantastic production values (although that doesn’t hurt), but moral ambiguity; less delineation between good and bad, right and wrong, evil intent and good intent gone awry. Rather than portraying outlandishly-garbed two-dimensional do-gooders foiling bank robbers (remember Kirk Alyn’s 1948 SUPERMAN and George Reeves’ 1952 series, foiling “crooks” in hats?), these are adult adventures with some blammo thrown in for the kids who can’t spell moral ambiguity yet (that would be everyone in America up to age 35).

Though Marvel has left DC in its dust with this “Marvel Universe” cross-pollination of movies (as opposed to DC’s oft-promised/ill-fated/off-grid JUSTICE LEAGUE projects) it’s time to go the whole hog and renounce this constricting PG-13 rating (I know it’s for box office reasons, but box office desperation can be mitigated with less outlandish salaries, less intrusive advertising/tie-ins and less unnecessary CGI), and move these summer tentpoles to a heavier grit with R-rated conundrums. These protagonists are already dealing with moral ambiguity, searching for the best way to be right in a world that is always wrong. Extend that to casual swearing and innocent deaths, and we’ll have real emotional powerhouses on our hands – movies that can probably win some of those hedonistic, hubristic, suckhole awards you people are always giving to the wrong recipients.

Many bystanders die in this movie, but it’s not graphic and it’s implied; disguised by the colorful action and quips and cutaways. You think not one solitary soul was killed or maimed in that Iron Man/Hulk battle? You think not one citizen just fell to their death when a whole city was levitated by Ultron and people were trying to evacuate in a panic? A car with a family in it goes over the edge and Captain America tries to hold it, triceps thrumming, dreamy eyes fluttering in anguish – but he loses it!… In slomo it falls – but no worries, little kiddies, suddenly raising it from below is Thor… everyone happy and gay. Goddamit! Show them lose a few people now and then, for the emotional impact. It would highlight the toll these heroes have to bear every time their vaunted powers do not necessarily fail, but are simply inadequate to deal with the enormity of the problem.

Sensing danger, Scarlet Witch
quickly pushes out her breasts.

Hawkeye says to Scarlet Witch: “If you go out there, you fight, and you fight to kill.” Let’s break it down: Wanda Witch has truly super powers – she can warp minds and shoot frickin’ laser beams out of her hands. (Her hex powers are represented very dramatically with her “Dracula hands,” ramped film and vermilion contrails. That schoolgirl skirt is just gravy. And that sugarbottom is dessert.) First of all, why would she be hesitant in killing things that are trying to kill her? I guess Hawkeye’s warning illustrates it’s not just the power – it’s the WILL to use it judiciously. The movie is hinting at that heavy emotional burden spoken of above, but it doesn’t follow through – because these robots she eventually burns down are just electronic drones; they’re not organic beings, or unwitting followers of a duplicitous leader. She might as well be hitting Ctrl+Alt+Delete.

Prime ass (as in assassin) Natasha flirts with Hulk. It’s official: bigger is better. But the movie will surprise us with its tragic denouements and unresolved throughlines. Marvel Universe offers us a myriad of upcoming films where fates will be decided (not to mention contracts merged, agents baffled, and Spider-Man traded like a baseball player).

In any media where humans are on the verge of being wiped out for their CONFOUNDED STUPIDITY, there is always always ALWAYS that Cringeworthy Speech No.5 that mitigates our idiocy. Unfortunately, it is Cool McCool Vision delegated to deliver that numbnut speech here: “Humans are odd. They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and try to control what won’t be. But there is grace in their failings.”  By definition, there is NO grace in failing – that’s why it’s called failing. And failing so calamitously so often means we are NOT worthy of being alive, much less presuming ourselves “rulers” of this planet, for which we are not even “stewards” or “butlers” rather a virus that is wiping out other life forms to the detriment of the ecosystem. Kill us. Kill us NOW, Ultron!

By the way, Mr. Ultron, if you really want to kill all humans, there’s no need for this much punching. The Avengers don’t ever need to be hit even once with all your Iron Man clones. They can band together and punch to their heart’s content (and there’s a very cool group sculpture of them doing just that during the end credits) but there’s a much better way to wipe out humanity. (I’ve advised Mr. Terminator and Mr. Decepticon on this exact same method – none of you dopes will take my advice.) You’ve got access to every computer system on Earth. Simply… shut everything down… and watch Mankind fall to its knees after five minutes of not being able to access their bank accounts, their launch codes, or a reality show.

If some writer would come up with an intelligent storyline (artificial or otherwise) that doesn’t insult our intelligence, now that would be a… VISION!

END

Glimmering Grimm.

Once upon a time, there was an action man and his hottie sister, and they were called Hansel and Gretel. Abandoned in the forest at a young age, they stumbled upon a witch’s cottage, killed the witch who was trying to eat them, and grew up to be an Avenger and a Bond Girl.

Jeremy Renner (THE AVENGERS) and Gemma Arterton (QUANTUM OF SOLACE) are the eponymous heroes, not innocent babes as remembered by tradition, as Hansel’s first lines tell us: “One: never walk into a house made of candy, and two: If you’re gonna kill a witch, set her ass on fire,” with Gretel’s first words delivered while holding a gun to a man’s head, “Let the girl go, or I’m gonna blow your sheriff’s brains all over these fuckin’ hillbillies!”

Noice.

HANSEL AND GRETEL: WITCH HUNTERS is a campy, cheesy, guilty pleasure, guns-and-sorcery actioner, self-aware to a fault of all the tropes it is satirizing and paying homage to. Excellent production values, an R-rating, and creative fight choreography only aid the rewritten storyline that The Brothers Grimm would have been proud to have documented and called their own.

In the grand tradition of ABRAHAM LINCOLN VAMPIRE HUNTER, this fast-paced movie plays loosely with traditional storyline (which was a German folk tale tabulated by the Grimms in 1812). Immune to witch spells, Hansel and Gretel become renowned witch bounty hunters throughout medieval Europe. Called upon to investigate a spate of kidnappings in a small town, they uncover a much darker purpose behind the child abductions: a witch’s coven on the “blood moon” (a lunar eclipse) that will render the witches invulnerable. We see milk bottles with drawings of missing children tied around them. It’s the little things…

The movie seems unbound by strictures: forget your expectations from a movie of this stripe – expect the unexpected. Do not become attached to the likeable B-characters – some of them are suddenly snatched from us gruesomely; do not expect the obvious romances to clack neatly into place – and remain happily ever after; do not expect sanitization for kiddie audiences – there is bloody gore and swearing and nudity and pearbottom leather. Maybe it’s the fact that the production boasts almost a complete European cast, and is written and directed by a European – someone from the arcane climes of where this diabolical tale supposedly took place – Norwegian Tommy Wirkola (DEAD SNOW, 2009), with a Euro sensibility that somehow outflanks the American MPAA.

Peter Stormare is the irascible town sheriff Berringer; Famke Janssen, hissing like a raptor, is powerful head witch Muriel; Thomas Mann is Ben, a fussing fanboy of the legendary Hansel and Gretel – an anachronism to be sure, but a recognizable trope that adds another fun element that sets this movie apart; and Pihla Viitala is the accused witch that the siblings save from the sheriff’s pyre (they “prove” she is not a witch because her skin and teeth are flawless and their witch lore has taught them to look for decay in real witches); personally, I would have spared her for her flaming sunrise hair and the bottom as ripe as pear.

Set in a Germanic age when crossbows were the weapon of choice and firearms were just coming into their own, the siblings yet own some tasty custom weaponry, some of it stolen from VAN HELSING. (Although that Hugh Jackman vehicle is this movie’s closest cousin, HELSING couldn’t find that sweet spot between drama, comedy, cheese and special effects.) The witches fly on twigs, broomsticks, branches, anything that suffices for a stick between their legs (like all women, am I right?). Though I am against “magic” per se (because in movies it always seems to have no rules or limitations), writer-director Wirkola has given these witches powers that don’t seem too outlandish, and employs such kineticism in the magic-battle scenes that we do not question loopholes. Yet we still wonder why Muriel, in the climactic battle, does not use her unlimited magic and resorts to good old-fashioned Marquis of Queensbury fisticuffs against Hansel and Gretel. Those paying attention will counter that H&G are immune to witch spells. Correct, but Muriel has control of the environment around her, from making the ground rip open to teleportation. Yet she cannot escape a good left hook from Gretel.

Derek Mears and Robin Atkin Downes operate a towering man-mountain called Edward, a troll that “helps witches.” We wonder then, why he saves Gretel from the sheriff – in the most remarkably satisfying and gory way. We will find out soon enough, when Muriel relates the tale of Hansel and Gretel Unbound, and though it is not as gruesome as the original (abandonment, cannibalism, murder), it is just as illogical, and holds original and entertaining twists.

HANSEL AND GRETEL: WITCH HUNTERS steps away from the dull conventions of American filmmaking, but not too far that we do not recognize it. A nice European flavor for a dark European tale of attempted child murder. If only more stultified American filmmakers would follow these unbound conventions, we’d all live happily ever after.

END

Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Scum.

Guess what? Politicians are corrupt. And confidence men act as liaison between politicians and mobsters to secure illegal funds for the politicians. And the FBI cannot curb any of this corruption because they’re fist-in-glove with the politicians and mobsters.

This is American politics. Hell, this is world politics. So are the makers of AMERICAN HUSTLE trying to shock us, mock us, or are they just having a laugh when they open with the title card, “Some of this actually happened”? When? During Nixon’s Checkers scandal? During Reagan’s Iran-Contra? During W’s Savings and Loan? During Jack Abramoff? During Bob “Ultrasound” McDonnell? During Chris Christie’s Bridgegate? Last Tuesday? Constantly?

Director David O. Russell’s AMERICAN HUSTLE doesn’t tell us anything we don’t know, yet is a superbly-crafted, entertaining True Crime exposé based on the FBI sting operation from the Swingin’ ’70s called Abscam, where they used fake sheikhs to entrap politicians with promises of millions to invest in their cities. (I hate to belabor a point, but “based on” means, as always, that facts have been replaced by utter bullshit; HUSTLE is not a documentary about Abscam, it’s entertainment, shot through with humor, turning all its despicable real life-inspired characters into pseudo-comedians. If we knew these people, would we want ANY of them near us? Con artists, FBI dicks, fishwives, corrupt pols, mobsters…)

Cucumber Hustle

In the film, FBI agent Richie DiMaso busts con artists Irving Rosenfeld and his girlfriend Sydney Prosser, making a deal with them that if they help the FBI entrap politicians into accepting bribes, they can walk free in return. (Isn’t this a crime itself – if not legally, then ethically?) Movie also portrays Abscam as the first time the FBI used videotape surveillance to entrap marks. After they used it for homemade porn, we presume, like the rest of us.

Christian Bale is con artist Irving Rosenfeld. As usual, his Method performance is enormous. This time, literally, gaining RAGING BULL poundage to play the dormant volcano with the raging comb-over. It’s a powerful physical statement (that noticeably lends subtleties to his performance, in movement and demeanor). But one wonders: with the excellent prosthetic technology these days, does an actor really need to ruin his body to play a ruined body?

Amy Adams, camera lovingly caressing her shapely hourglass, plays Irving’s partner-in-love-and-crime, Sydney Prosser. They meet at a bikini party where he falls in love with her hourglass and she falls in love with his, uh, confidence. A long montage depicts Irving and Sydney’s courtship poignantly – we actually feel their love-ache. And when she puts on that fake English accent as “Edith” from London, our ache just gets moister.

Seeing Life through the prism of a Long Con, Irving admits to conning himself into not facing his realities: he’s already married – to dissatisfied, loudmouth fishwife Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence, who has never been more annoying). He laments that Rosalyn, with her petulant coyness and contrived helplessness, is conning him into staying with her. She would continually get him into hot water, propose a half-baked solution, and then act as if she has done him a favor, capping her shriking with, “You’re welcome!”

Bradley Cooper, all whiteboy Jheri curls and disco beard, is FBI man Richie DiMaso, whose schemes to bust politicians leads to much more dangerous people – the Mob. By the time he and Irving are having a sitdown with Meyer Lansky’s right hand man (an uncredited Robert De Niro, who brooks no shit), they can see they’ve gone too far but cannot turn back.

Superb stunt casting with comedian Louis C.K. as Richie’s boss, who starts telling Richie an ice-fishing story, presumably to illustrate some life lesson. Though we hear more of the story as the film progresses, we never hear the ending or the lesson of it. Like life, never seeming to have purpose or direction, and you never know when it’s going to end or make sense. Louis is still the put-upon doughy guy, but it’s a delight to see him in an actual role, rather than just complaining about stuff. Nice to see Alessandro Nivola in a small, biting role as the D.A. I always imagined the steamy-blond, muscled Nivola would go onto greater successes since I saw him in BEST LAID PLANS (1999); guess his agent just didn’t have the clout to make him the next Brad Pitt.

Jeremy Renner, hair higher than Travolta’s in SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER, is Carmine Polito, Mayor of Camden, New Jersey, who is painted as an honorable man, although I can’t see why. Firstly, he’s a mayor in New Jersey – any wonder he’s corrupt? (cough-Chris Christie!); and secondly, not only does he fall for the fake sheikh entrapment, he leads Irving and DiMaso into Mob dealings of his own volition, not through FBI coercion.

Michael Pena plays a fake sheikh – yes, the casting is as stupid as the idea and the people who buy into it – and Beansie from THE SOPRANOS (Paul Herman) is a mob lawyer!

A hilarious side-story makes us ponder the nature of politics: Carmine gifts Irving with a new-fangled invention called a microwave oven – which he calls a “science oven.” (He warns Irving not to put metal in it, which Rosalyn immediately does, sets it on fire, and then implies Irving should thank her for discovering how dangerous the science oven was. “You’re welcome!”) For helping him get funding for his city, Carmine tells Irving, “I’m giving you a gift, from a friend.” It’s not graft, not bribery, not corrupt. Carmine is sincere about a gift just being a gift. And when that gift is reciprocated – in either money, drugs, women, access to power – who’s to say it’s not a gift back? It might be called nepotism, favoritism, extortion, but this is how the world works: you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Quid pro quo, Agent Starling. And those people they used to call con men? Now they’re called lobbyists.

Soundtrack works headily to place us in the moment, a brash sampling of 60’s and 70’s rock and disco gems: Don’t Leave Me This Way, Live and Let Die, Jean Genie, Delilah, How Can You Mend A Broken Heart, including rare ELO – Long Black Road (2001) and 10538 Overture (1971). I spilled my jellybeans in delighted surprise at this last track, the thick-as-syrup first song on Side 1 of the first Electric Light Orchestra album! Also: Duke Ellington, Cole Porter, Thelonius Monk, and demi-god Todd Rundgren! And – wait for it – actual soundtrack is composed by dark prince Danny Elfman! What a musical coup this movie is! There are enigmatic camera moves accompanying strange juxtapositions between source music and visuals – been watching GOODFELLAS much, David O. Russell?

Sad to say the movie’s last three minutes ruin EVERYTHING that was driving AMERICAN HUSTLE towards being the perfect piece about hubris and absolute power.  Writers Russell and Eric Warren Singer homogenize the “bad guys”! The last scenes of Irving and Sydney show them as legit art dealers… because the Gutless MPAA will not allow “criminals” to ride out the end of a movie without being jailed, killed, avenged or redeemed. Whether this happened in real life is moot – the dramatic arc of the movie is forced into this jejune trope; Russell could have ended his movie at any point in time he wished, but he chose – or was forced – to make the anti-heroes turn from crime and join the dreary masses.

A worse sin is perpetrated on Bradley Cooper’s FBI agent – no, not that garish disco costume (but he makes it sweat, with hips that remind us of Tom Jones at his salacious best) – he is conned into being the “loser.” He was the ostensible “good guy” so to make his losing palatable to braindead American audiences, there is a whole subplot about him cheating on his fiancé, nearly backdooring Sydney in a women’s dunny. So lemme get this straight: FBI guy sincerely trying to curb political corruption is clotheslined into submission because… sex in a toilet?! Shameful, transparent, lazy screenwriting combined with Gutless MPAA redemption edicts.

Makes me long for the bravery of European movies like TRAINSPOTTING, LOCK STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS, MATCH POINT, et al. Bad guys win – and continue to be the bad guys we’ve grown to love through the movie. Successful films to boot. And there are no more or less reprobates in society turning to drugs, thugs or murder than there would have been, with or without those other even more dangerous influences on ur-culture, the violent King James Bible or reprehensible Disney children’s movies.

The real criminals here, ladies and gentlemen – are the Gutless MPAA! But there’s more stupidity: with their prosaic rewriting of these characters, the MPAA unintentionally promote the concept that Crime Does Pay. The same thing happened in AMERICAN GANGSTER and CATCH ME IF YOU CAN. If perps would just roll over on their fellow crims, the authorities will let you go free!  Which is totally opposite to the message they’re trying to convey: that crime is bad in the first place. Idiots!

If we’re going to invest our time in unsavory characters, then, like THE GODFATHER, take those anti-heroes to their logical ends – don’t suddenly give them new personalities and pretend they’re as boring as the rest of the humanity we’re trying to escape by visiting this movie! David O. Russell just pulled a rope-a-dope on us! AMERICAN HUSTLE itself is just a con!

You’re welcome!

END