This is it. In previous posts, I’ve commented on every film I saw this summer except my top five. I don’t think this last entry needs a long introduction. In ascending order, here are the five final films of my Summer Movie Review 2013:
5.) Despicable Me 2 (A/A-)
Why I Liked It:
Forget the plot. Here’s what Despicable Me 2 is all about—humor. The clear goal of this production is to make the audience laugh as often as possible. Privileging jokes over everything else can backfire more unpleasantly than one of Dr. Nefario’s fart guns. But in Despicable Me 2, always going for the laugh pays off. At least, it worked for me—and for my family. We (34, 35) took our kids (4 and 10), and my parents (60, 61) to this movie in search of a fun way to kill the first night of a long weekend. All six of us spent ninety minutes laughing (and the other eight minutes smiling tearfully) and walked out of the theater with huge grins plastered all over our faces.
“Well,” declared my dad, who basically got dragged along despite zero interest going in, “that may be one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.”
For sure it was a good time. (It always helps to see a kids’ movie in a sold out theater jam-packed with little kids. You never have to wonder, “Do kids like this? If only there were some way to discover their uncensored thoughts about what’s happening on the screen!”)
For an entire year, those ubiquitous “BaBa NaNa” Minion spots have delighted my young daughter during movie theater previews. Both kids were dying to see Despicable Me 2, and we liked the first one, so my husband and I were game, though we didn’t expect much. But the moment I saw that amazing birthday party scene, I realized, This is wonderful! Heart-warming! Silly! Engaging! This scene alone is worth the price of a ticket even if the movie’s all downhill from here.
But it wasn’t. The laughs kept coming. The cuteness continued. Fast-paced and funny with a sweet story about family at its core, Despicable Me 2 turned out to be a zany, laugh-a-second triumph. The entire vocal cast is top notch. Steve Carell is a gifted comedian who also has the dramatic skill to sell the heartwarming moments. Kristen Wiig pairs well with him. She’s the perfect addition to the cast to assure the continued health of the franchise. Russell Brand seems even funnier than before, and the young cast is still fantastic. This time Elsie Kate Fisher as Agnes is a particular standout. In smaller roles, Kristen Schaal and Nasim Pedrad are also hilarious.
The real stars of this film, though, are the animators. (You thought I was going to say the Minions, didn’t you? They’re very cute, too, and right in the center of things. The movie actually takes a huge risk with them this time, one that not only pays creatively but will certainly generate lots of merchandizing revenue as well.)
What I’m trying to say, though, is that the movie looks great, and the visual humor is so rich and giddily engaging. As funny as Steve Carell, Kristen Wiig, and company are, about ninety percent of the best jokes are non-verbal. Plus the movie wins bonus points (from me) for providing a perfect illustration of the pathetic fallacy.
(Disclaimer: All bonus points are non-redeemable.)
Why You Might Not Like It:
I wish I knew why Al Pacino dropped out of this movie at the eleventh hour. Stars leave productions citing “creative differences” all the time. But leaving after you’ve already recorded your dialogue, and they’ve already animated the character to match your line readings? That’s really strange.
Maybe Pacino just lost his temper or didn’t get the paycheck he was expecting. Or maybe something about the direction his character was taking bothered him. I really wish I knew because the way El Macho is portrayed bothers me.
Since the movie’s release, I’ve been at war with myself every time I think about Despicable Me 2. On the one hand, I liked this movie better than any other animated film this summer. On the other hand, El Macho is such an over-the-top Mexican stereotype. Then again, maybe I’m being too sensitive. But, then again again, maybe the filmmakers aren’t being sensitive enough.
Someone who owns a Mexican restaurant in a trendy mall might very reasonably resort to kooky gimmicks to drum up business. And Despicable Me is a franchise that loves to create bizarre, over-the-top, hilarious villains. But sometimes it feels like the movie is taking cheap shots, trying to generate lazy laughs by poking fun at what American audiences may mistakenly believe is Mexican culture. Yes I love all the stuff about how crazed super villain El Macho supposedly met his larger-than-life fate. But why not make him outrageous in the performance of his villainy yet ordinary in his behind the scenes life? And why suddenly drop the character of average teenager Antonio (well voiced by Moises Arias, aka Biaggio)? Antonio deserves a little more development, at least enough to bring more satisfying closure to the ill-fated teen romance subplot.
The thing is, Despicable Me 2 clearly values a laugh over anything. And the result is a consistently hilarious movie. But you know how when you watch really old cartoons, right before the commercial break, some guy in a suit comes on and sweetly explains, “Back in those days, audiences were less sophisticated, but today we know it probably isn’t funny to show a baby smoking a cigar as he shoots himself in the face with a revolver”? I feel like Despicable Me 2 may be creating some future work for that guy in the suit’s grandson.
Then again again again, maybe I really am being too sensitive. I mean, the United States has been consistently making fun of Canadian culture in TV and movies for decades, and nobody ever complains about that (except Canadians, but apparently our policy on that is to mock or ignore them), and that’s been working out just fine all these years (for us).
A related problem is that all sources of external conflict in this movie are pretty weak, not adequately developed, and too easily defused. Since the story is really about Gru and his family dynamic, I didn’t mind so much, but the villain oriented among us may find the lack of a worthy external foe too disappointing to bear.
Basically, even though I think the El Macho character is the weakest link, I’m willing to give Despicable Me 2 the benefit of the doubt. Maybe we’re really laughing at the ridiculous way American consumerism co-opts elements of other cultures and reduces them to marketable trinkets for cash. Still, even though I loved the movie, I’m not crazy about El Macho. I have nothing but praise, however, for the incredible performance of Benjamin Bratt who at the last minute stepped into a difficult role and acquitted himself very well.
4.) Fruitvale Station (A)
Why I Liked It:
Most good movies can be reduced to a single word by critics bizarrely obsessed with reducing good movies to a single word.
(In the case of Despicable Me 2, that word is “BA-BA-BA-BABA-NANA!”)
The word that sums up Fruitvale Station is empathy.
That’s not just my word.
“Film can trigger empathy in you for characters that you haven’t met,” writer/director Ryan Coogler said at an MPAA screening of Fruitvale Station back in June. “You get to live as somebody else; you get to see different perspectives.”
In interviews throughout the year, Coogler has repeatedly stressed that he wanted his first feature film to show Bay Area police shooting victim Oscar Grant as a human being. Not a martyred saint. Not a belligerent thug. A human being.
In Fruitvale Station, Oscar is just an average guy having an ordinary day—until an extraordinary and frankly baffling turn of events brings his life to a sudden and dramatic end (in full view of dozens of spectators armed with phone cameras rolling).
Especially when you consider that this is the director’s feature length debut, Fruitvale Station is a moving, stunning success. Cooger is a maestro of eliciting empathy. A strong cast helps. Michael B. Jordan, Octavia Spencer, and Melonie Diaz all deserve Oscar consideration (though of the three, only Spencer seems truly likely to pull off a nomination. Jordan definitely deserves one, but Best Actor is always the most crowded category, and he’s still so young and relatively unknown).
Honestly, I empathized strongly with both Oscar and his mother, and this was no great effort on my part. I wasn’t sitting there, fists balled, eyes squinched coaching myself, “Okay! You must empathize! Empathize!” Fruitvale Station does all the work. All you have to do is show up and benefit from the experience of watching.
Even though our circumstances are quite different, I could see so much of the twenty-year-old me in Oscar Grant. (Of course, it helps that I have a hair-trigger temper, but anyone who’s been an adolescent should relate to that scene in the prison when we see that he’s torn between the desire to be the ideal adult son and the feelings of rage, blame, and frustration that overcome him when he gets a rebuke instead of praise from his mother.) We all want to be remembered for the good things we do, but the reality is when all the phone cameras come out, there’s no guarantee you’ll be caught on your best day.
And that scene in the kitchen when his mother worries that he might drink and drive—oh my God, I was just gutted! The mother in me kicked into full agony mode. It was the same feeling I used to get when I looked at our staircase and had a random flash of my then baby potentially falling over the edge of the top banister in some horrific accident waiting to happen. I felt so dizzy and overwhelmed. I wanted to scream, “Good grief! Who wrote this? Sophocles!?? How HORRIBLE!!!!!” You just feel such a powerful connection to Octavia Spencer’s character (or anyway, I did).
So congratulations on a job well done, Ryan Coogler. I hope your amazing debut gets as much Oscar recognition as possible, and I look forward to your future film projects.
Why You Might Not Like It:
Last summer, my top five contained both The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises, two huge, highly anticipated blockbusters that practically everybody in the world has seen by now. (Perhaps that’s slight hyperbole, but I did say “practically.”)
This year, my top tier choices are more eccentric. I’m not trying to turn my back on high grossing movies with broad appeal (which I would hope is obvious from my inclusion of a cartoon that gave us the adorable rallying cry, “BA BA BA BABA NANA!”). It’s just that for me, the art house films and character dramas of 2013 turned out a little better than the blockbusters.
My point is, Fruitvale Station is not your typical summer movie. If it weren’t the director’s debut feature, it might have gotten a later release date to give it a better chance in the Oscar race. Despite the real-life gun violence, you’re not going to see any big action scenes or mind-blowing CGI in Fruitvale Station. It’s a quiet character drama whose biggest star at this moment is Octavia Spencer, widely known thanks to her Supporting Actress win for The Help. (I’m not saying emerging talent Michael B. Jordan won’t be a movie opening star someday, but he certainly isn’t a household name yet.)
So obviously, some people won’t like this film because it fails to deliver what they’re expecting from a summer movie. Others may be agitated by the content. And then there are going to be people like me, people who deliberately buy a ticket and enjoy the film but still recognize a few flaws.
The scene with the dog is so heavy-handed it seems transported directly from a Greek tragedy. Now because we know from the first scene that Oscar’s story ends in tragedy, this dog business does sound like it would work on paper. But it doesn’t work (for me). It’s too conspicuously ominous. Everything else that happens in Oscar’s day seems true (even if it’s not) and verifiable (even if we don’t bother to check), but the foreshadowing with the dog is just too much to be believed. Of course, others may feel differently. The scene with Oscar’s mother in the kitchen seems to foreshadow doom so assuredly that it would make Sophocles blush, yet that moment completely worked for me. I found it one of the most powerful, moving moments in the entire film. Maybe some people will react to the dog scene that way, too. Personally, I would have cut it, but then the movie would have been too short, and Oscar would have had blood conspicuously spattered across his shirt for no apparent reason. So this is why they don’t let me make movies.
3.) The Way, Way Back (A+)
Why I Liked It:
The Descendents favorably impressed me back in 2011, and while this character driven comedy from Nat Faxon and Jim Rash isn’t as Oscar baity, it still packs a punch. Imagine the strong performances, sympathetic characters, and bittersweet humor of The Descendents, but with less wrenching anguish and more Allison Janney as the wacky neighbor.
The Way, Way Back has plenty of laughs, compelling characters, a great script, and stellar performances. Start to finish, it’s an entertaining coming-of-age story more satisfying than some others because of its judicious use of captivating supporting characters of the adult variety.
Liam James does a great job making Duncan seem authentically awkward, but even better, as the film goes on, James allows us to see the young protagonist gain confidence and blossom in a realistic way. At the end of the movie, Duncan is still Duncan. There’s no magical moment when Duncan hears, “Why your teeth are straight now, your vision has corrected itself, and we’ve suddenly realized that you’re an Olypmic caliber water slider, so we’ll see you in Rio 2016.” The audience recognizes the emergence of a more confident, more mature protagonist mainly because of a brilliant yet subtle performance by James.
Sam Rockwell, Maya Rudolph, Allison Janney, Toni Collette, and Steve Carrell all give fantastic supporting performances. If the Oscars weren’t so darn competitive, I’d give Rockwell, Janney, and Carrell a shot at supporting nominations, but it’s too early in the year, and that will never happen. The blockbusters this year have been a little lacking, so you can be sure the prestige pictures will be tremendous. (Don’t ask me why, but a lackluster summer almost always means a killer awards season and vice versa.) I also like AnnaSophia Robb and young River Alexander as the sympathetic and charming kids next door. Faxon and Rash give themselves some pretty amusing minor roles as workers at Water Wizz (a real water park, by the way, where they actually filmed the movie).
Why You Might Not Like It:
If you don’t like coming-of-age stories about awkward suburban teens with first world problems, then Duncan’s quest to make the most of a summer at his mom’s boyfriend’s beach house by making friends at a waterpark might not be for you.
Now if you were to ask me, I’d protest, “Surely being constantly belittled by some jerk who’s not your dad but plans to move in and undermine the security of your relationship with your mother is a legitimate problem no matter who you are, where you live, or how much money the jerk has.” But then you’d be like, “Shut up!” because you’re already annoyed by this kid whining about spending the summer at a beach house, and you have no patience left for my rambling. And you would win our argument, too, because let’s face it, I can’t force you to like a movie just because I do.
The box office really has been flooded with coming-of-age stories for the past couple of years. Coming-of-age is always a popular subgenre, but lately, it’s emerged as the only alternative to the comic book blockbuster. It’s getting ridiculous! So if you’re sick and tired of watching painfully awkward adolescents blossom into surprisingly attractive and popular young adults, I can understand why. I still think this movie might surprise you. The exemplary cast performs at such a high level that even if you go in wishing all those whiny teenage water slide enthusiasts would just hurry up and drown (in their own tears if necessary), The Way, Way Back still might win you over with its stunning array of supporting adults. (How can you not love Allison Janney? Come on, admit it. She’s consistently funny and surprisingly heart-warming.)
Oh, and a caveat for Steve Carell fans—he gives a great performance here, but he’s playing a complete jerk. Don’t go expecting a sympathetic funnyman. Trent’s a nasty piece of work, and he’s written by the same guys who gave us The Descendents, an intense family drama that made me cry for ninety minutes straight.
I do wish that we got some more insight into Trent’s character. What makes him so awful? Why is he so eager to become an abusive stepdad? Why does he shut out his own daughter? What happened to Trent to make him such a jackass? Did something happen, or has he always been insecure and emotionally abusive? I guess it doesn’t really matter what happened. This is Dylan’s story. (But still, I can’t deny that I’m curious. Trent and his daughter could both use a little more development.)
2.) The World’s End (A+)
Why I Liked It:
The World’s End tells us everything we need to know about its larger-than-life protagonist in the very first scene, one of the most surprising and compelling openings I’ve encountered in a long time. First we get a relatively run-of-the-mill flashback of the glory days as Gary King tells us who he thinks he is. It’s all ordinary enough, nothing too surprising. But then someone asks an unexpected question, and Gary’s off-the-cuff answer tells us in one word just exactly the kind of man we’re dealing with. And what a man he is!
The sheer economy of that first scene nearly reduced me to tears. What effective writing! What an awesome character! What a great anti-hero to lead the charge against the coming robot apocalypse!
Gary truly is the King in this movie, and he’s so captivating that no matter how deranged his lunacy becomes, like Andy we’re willing to follow him all the way to the World’s End.
It’s the brilliant script by Simon Pegg and director Edgar Wright that I loved most about this final (and strongest) chapter of the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy, but the performances are pretty winning, too. Simon Pegg and Nick Frost (in a highly effective reversal of their usual on screen dynamic) always make a fantastic pair, and the whole ensemble is strong, Martin Freeman, Paddy Considine, Rosamond Pike, and particularly Eddie Marsan. There are also fantastic small roles for Piers Brosnan and (best of all) David Bradley as town-krank-turned-last-man-standing Basil. (I wish I were paid by the hyphen. I’m really slinging them around lately.)
Besides giving us fun, off-kilter sci-fi action aplenty, The World’s End simultaneously delivers a serious, immensely compelling character drama with cerebrally exciting subtext about alcoholism and the internet. The soundtrack is pretty fun, too. And how can you not love a movie that turns the oft quoted, wacky Shakespearean line, “Exit, pursued by a bear,” into the manically delivered catch phrase, “Let’s Boo-Boo!”? (The fact that only one member of the group actually remembers and uses this bit of exclusive, group-specific jargon makes the joke even funnier.)
Why You Might Not Like It:
The World’s End definitely won’t be everybody’s cup of tea, and I’m sure Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost don’t care. When you set out to make a film about a nostalgic forty-something addict returning home to a sleepy English hamlet to embrace alcoholism while battling alien robots and middle age, clearly you are not trying to please everyone.
Even fans of the Blood and Ice Cream trilogy may find aspects of The World’s End disappointing, though. I personally rank the films in reverse chronological order, but if you think Shaun of the Dead is the most brilliant installment in the trilogy by far, then I can understand why you’d rank this film a distant third (because I feel exactly the opposite).
People who don’t connect to Gary King and find his character annoying and his adventures dull obviously won’t like this movie as much as I do, either.
I’ve heard a lot of murmurs of dissatisfaction about the ending, too. It worked for me, but even I’ll admit that the end is the weakest part. Must all that brilliant subtext be pulled up into the main plot? The last big showdown is amusing but not at all subtle or elegant. And the very, very ending is really something else. It makes about as much sense as anything in the rest of the movie, but it’s still a bit weird, and I can see why it might leave some people shaking their heads.
1.) Now You See Me (A+)
Why I Liked It:
Back in April, I loved the movie Mud, which reminded me fondly of two favorite books from my high school reading list, Huckleberry Finn and Great Expectations. Now You See Me reminds me of my other favorite book from high school, not so much because of its focus on magic, but because of its first rule, “Always be the smartest guy in the room.”
I love magic. As a kid, I kept buying trick cards, sure before purchase they would make me a brilliant magician, dismayed when I got home to discover just how much mental work and sleight-of-hand goes into successfully using an “automatic” deck. (My eight-year-old ambition to become the world’s greatest ventriloquist was similarly thwarted. Who would guess the dummy doesn’t do half the work? It gets half the applause!)
My husband loves magic, too. We DVRed that special featuring David Blaine walking around New Orleans doing street magic and kept showing it to everyone, waiting for somebody to be as impressed and dazzled as we were. I wish David Blaine would perform at my next birthday party. From what I’ve seen, he does mind-blowing sleight-of-hand and then ends the trick by giving you a hundred dollars. Now that’s what I call a good show!
But despite my love of magic, I didn’t expect much from Now You See Me. I kept seeing theatrical trailers and commercial spots for it every time I went to the theater for months. Usually that type of frantic promotion means bad things. Not this time.
Now You See Me doesn’t just show us magic, it performs magic. The entire movie is an elegantly performed magic trick. (It’s a metaphor!) And if we pay attention, the movie gives us careful instructions on how we ought to watch it. (It’s metadrama!) But it also gives us a marvelous, all-star(ish) ensemble cast, a brisk pace, ample action, a solid and surprising story, and a brilliantly choreographed fight with a deck of cards. (It’s Dave Franco!)
I hear the movie performed so well it’s getting a sequel, and I couldn’t be more delighted. I’m not sure a second installment could possibly be as good, but at this point, I’m willing to give director Louis Leterrier and screenwriters Ed Solomon, Boaz Yankin, and Edward Ricourt the benefit of the doubt. I hope the entire creative team returns, and I can’t heap enough praise on the brilliantly used ensemble cast—Mark Ruffalo, Jesse Eisenberg, Isla Fisher, Woody Harrelson, the stunning Mélanie Laurent! The movie benefits from everyone’s strengths, while any shortcomings are artfully concealed.
I would also be willing to watch a spin-off called Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine Threaten Each Other. (Seriously, sign me up for three feature length films of Freeman/Caine intimidation matches. I could watch the two of them go toe-to-toe forever.)
Now You See Me is that rare film that makes me totally forget that I’m supposed to be watching with a critical eye. I didn’t just appreciate this movie. I didn’t just enjoy aspects. I loved it. Start to finish, I loved the entire thing. And then on an encore viewing, I love it even more.
Why You Might Not Like It:
After I saw Now You See Me for the first time, I thought the love story was ridiculously forced, and I wasn’t sure the film would hold up to a second viewing.
After I saw Now You See Me for the second time, I was absolutely stunned that the love story no longer seemed forced at all. In fact, as I watched the film again, I could totally appreciate why one character would slowly begin to find another increasingly appealing. Not only is the love story more believable than I at first perceived, but it is also actually quite satisfying. On a second viewing, Now You See Me becomes something I had never imagined initially—a really emotionally resonant character drama. I guess I’m not the smartest guy in the room because I did not see that coming.
After I saw Now You See Me for the third time, my husband declared, “I’m pretty sure this is one of my favorite movies. Ever.” And I agreed with him completely.
Now obviously, not everybody in the entire world is going to love Now You See Me as much as I do, but I’ve become increasingly sure over repeat viewings that I truly do love this movie, and it’s my favorite of the summer of 2013 by a margin so wide only magic could close the gap. (That’s such a boring sentence. I wanted to drag Evel Knevil in to demonstrate the staggering width of the margin, but he spoiled by fun by not being a magician. You’ve won this round, Evel Knevil, but surely a wide margin will come up in a review of a daredevil related movie eventually! Then you’ll fall right into my figurative clutches!)
Now You See Me is that rare edge-of-your-seat mindbender that actually becomes a better film on repeat viewings. The stakes are higher when you know what’s actually going on, and some lines that pass unnoticed the first time through become hilarious (or even meaningful) once you’ve seen it all before. The director’s cut (though not much longer) is probably even better because of the extra thirty seconds or so it adds to the resolution.
So far Now You See Me is my runaway favorite of the year, but Oscar season is just around the corner. If I see an end-of-the-year film I love more than this one, 2013 will turn out to be a pretty fantastic year for movies after all.