Summer Movie Review 2014: Tier Two (A-)

Now we come to the bottom half of my top ten films of the summer.  I liked every one of these movies, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they all turn up in my home video library eventually.  The movies in this tier earn an (A-) from me because while their strengths easily overshadow their weaknesses, none of them deserves to be called “the best film of the summer,” (though #7 may come closer for some people than it did for me).

10.) Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (A-/B+)

Why I Liked It:
How this movie edged out Edge of Tomorrow to make it into my top ten remains shrouded in impenetrable mystery.  Even I consider the two films almost identical in quality, but no matter how long and hard I thought, I always ended up giving a slight edge to the apes.

To be brutally honest, I think it’s personal.  At heart I simply prefer Andy Serkis playing a super-intelligent chimp to Tom Cruise playing an ordinary guy.  The heart wants what it wants (and my heart is really biased against Tom Cruise, though my head protests that he’s great in Edge of Tomorrow).

For a summer movie about simian soldiers, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes offers some pretty deep insights.  It beautifully illustrates how wars begin even when both societies have sympathetic members and neither side wants war.  And that image of Koba galloping in on horseback in a blaze of lethal, pyrotechnic glory surely invites American audiences to pause and consider how we might sometimes appear to the rest of the world.

Dawn also features some truly amazing CGI.  The apes are rendered with shocking realism and yet such subtlety that we forget they’re (at least partially) computer generated.  This technological win makes a huge difference to the overall success of the movie.  The apes look so real, yet their eyes and faces convey the human actor’s expressions so well.  We feel the effect in our hearts as we respond to these computer generated characters as though they were real, and, most of the time, we sympathize far more with the enhanced simian characters than their (naturally) human counterparts.

Anyone who has seen the original Planet of the Apes films can surely appreciate the difference these advances in technology make.  Think of the conspicuous make-up and costuming in the Charlton Heston original.  Roddy McDowall is winningly charismatic, but we never lose ourselves in the story so much that we believe he’s actually an ape.

In contrast, Caesar, (the stirring) Blue Eyes, Maurice (my favorite), and even crazy old Koba do seem real.  We lose ourselves in the fantasy more effortlessly because of the fantastic CGI.  The apes are so engaging, in fact, that we respond more deeply to them than we do to the humans.

Why You Might Not Like It:
Speaking of the humans—well, there’s not much reason to speak of the humans because they’re an unremarkable, underutilized lot who don’t get much development.

Keri Russell’s Ellie is all backstory.  In her insanely turbulent past, she worked for the CDC, lost her entire family, and endured countless terrifying hardships.  But her entire purpose in this story is to dispense penicillin.  Even worse, Gary Oldman’s Dreyfus (who also has a tragic past) seems highly mysterious and paranoid and very much like he’s up to something, but (spoiler alert) he’s not.

For a movie that makes a point of showing us both sides, Dawn does not give us much insight into what’s going on in the human camp.  (I still think that while Koba’s reaction is unhinged and inappropriate, the apes do have legitimate cause to be concerned about the humans’ secret stockpile of weapons.)

As I think back on the movie now, though, I find myself realizing that since the future belongs to the apes, perhaps the shallow portrait of humanity is intentional.  Maybe we’re not compelled to take a closer look at the humans because (thanks to our race’s depletion by pandemic and catastrophe) there’s no longer much of interest there to see.  Humans are on the way out.  It is, after all, the Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

9.) 22 Jump Street (A-)

Why I Liked It:
22 Jump Street is like the class clown who will do anything for a laugh.

Watching it is a lot like being trapped atop a runaway train with Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum doing their manic impression of the Green Eggs and Ham guy.  (You remember, Sam-I-Am?)

Do you like sophisticated jokes?  How about silly jokes?  Dumb jokes?  Clever jokes?  Pratfalls?  Allusions?  Crude humor?  Heart-warming humor?  Funny disguises?  Inappropriate explosions?  Visual humor?  Aural humor?  Associative humor?  Jokes that get run into the ground and lose all meaning?  Jokes that seem to have no meaning but get run into the ground and become funny?  How about something totally random?  How about something totally expected?  And of course—going by the famous Jonah Hill playbook of comedy—if all else fails, then penis, penis, penis!, PENIS! PENIS!!!!!!!  (Because nothing’s funnier than a penis—just ask Jonah Hill.)

Basically 22 Jump Street demands that we laugh, won’t stop until we do, and even then keeps up a relentless barrage of jokes, determined that we will continue laughing forever.

The movie is shameless and doesn’t care how dumb a joke is.  Even if the bit is patently juvenile, perfectly ridiculous, or riskily adorable, if there is so much as an outside chance that it will make just one person in the audience laugh, it’s in the movie.

As a result, I spent almost the entire movie laughing.  As long as you don’t take it or yourself too seriously, 22 Jump Street succeeds in being uproariously funny.  It’s that rare sequel that outshines the original (in terms of humor).  Everything is a joke, even the names of the buildings on campus.

Ice Cube’s part is much enhanced this time around, and he’s so hilarious in one scene-stealing bit that he practically steals the entire movie.  But Jump Street’s stars bring their comedy A game, too.  Jonah Hill’s questionable performance at the poetry slam ends up being memorably hilarious.  And how can anyone not enjoy watching Channing Tatum climb up and down campus like Spider-Man?  Stick around for the end credits, too.  They’re a scream.

Why You Might Not Like It:
The plot and story aren’t as good as last time, and just because the movie admits this (and then cleverly tweaks the idea for a third act plot twist) doesn’t make it any less true.

Near the end of the movie, there’s a momentum break that’s forgivable but unfortunate.  (22 Jump Street succeeds by keeping us laughing.  When we stop laughing—even for five minutes—we suddenly notice that humor is the only true strength of the film.)

Also while 22 Jump Street repeatedly goes out of its way to emphasize that homophobia is not funny, the running joke about the “partnership” of Schmidt and Jenko is the backbone of the entire movie.  The message here seems to be, “It’s not okay to make mean jokes about being gay.  But it is okay to make not-so-mean jokes about being gay as long as you’re really nice like we are.  I mean, being gay is super funny.  We think so, and we’re really nice, so that settles it.”  I don’t honestly find the movie’s humor offensive, but I do think its moral rationale is a little confusing.

Basically if you want to spend a couple of hours laughing, then you have this movie’s number.  But if you’re looking for a fresh, mind-bending plot or a deep, meaningful story, you probably won’t find that at 22 Jump Street (unless you’re ten and sneaking in without your parents’ permission).

8)  Maleficent (A-)

Why I Liked It:
A live action, Disney, Sleeping Beauty spin-off featuring Angelina Jolie parading around in evil costumes couldn’t possibly be one of the ten best movies of the summer, you say?

Then I say to you, I’m afraid you’ve vastly underestimated the appeal of Angelina Jolie parading around in evil costumes.

At approximately fifty-seven thousand moments during the movie, when Angelia Jolie was onscreen, my five-year-old daughter leaned close to whisper to me, “She’s so pretty!  Look how pretty she is!  She is pretty!”

And she is right.  Angelina Jolie is gorgeous.  She has a pretty face, but it’s more than that.  She knows exactly how to hold the attention of an audience, how to keep us captive with a well-timed glance.  She’s charismatic with a special kind of energy that’s ordinarily found only in the faces of huge stars who are also talented actors.  And wow does she wear those costumes well!  The costumers and make-up artists must have rejoiced when they heard she’d been cast as Maleficent.  Even I think it would be fun to dress her, and I have almost no interest in fashion.  (But in this case, dressing Maleficent would be like fashioning a living piece of studio art, creating a magnificent, emotive Halloween decoration.)

So ordinarily movies don’t succeed solely on their star’s ability to preen around and posture, but when the preening around and posturing is raised to a certain level, all that changes.

The movie ranks so high on my list because I saw it with my parents, my husband, our children, my sister, and her fiancé.  When you get all of us together, we’re a pretty diverse group, and yet everyone genuinely enjoyed the movie and had several positive things to say about it afterwards.

Jolie gives a performance that’s better than the film, but still, the film is quite good.  It beautifully restages the pivotal christening scene from Sleeping Beauty.  It has a strong cast, including Elle Fanning as Aurora, Sharlto Copley as Stefan, and Imelda Staunton, Lesley Manville, and Juno Temple as the three (maybe not-so-) good fairies.  It even introduces exciting new characters.  Appearing in the animated film only as Maleficent’s raven, Diaval here gets much more backstory and development, not to mention some of the most captivating lines in the movie.  The rhythmic, “What have you done to my beautiful self?” has been stuck in my head since this summer.

Jolie’s scene with her own daughter (Vivienne Jolie-Pitt) is fabulously sweet and funny.  The hard lesson that Maleficent learns about the nature of curses specifically (and words once uttered in general) is one of many excellent morals artfully delivered by the film.  But best of all for me is the scene in which Maleficent reacts in horror to Stefan’s violation of her trust and her body.  That’s a memorable moment and a pointed reminder that when you hurt people, there are always heart rending consequences (even if you choose to look away from them).

Why You Might Not Like It:
I had such low expectations for this movie going in.  How often does Disney make a live action version of an animated classic and come up with something excellent (even something watchable)?  I braced myself for bad, bad things, so I will admit that my relief at not finding them may have made me blind to lesser flaws in the movie.

My two biggest complaints are:

  1. A) We don’t get a close enough look at what’s going on with Stefan’s character. We don’t get much interiority.  Though we can guess from his over-the-top behavior that power has corrupted him to the point of madness, it might be nice to see his conversion to the dark side presented a bit more gradually and from his own point of view.
  1. B) Maleficent does not get to turn into a dragon at the end. I realize a transformation into the incarnation of pure evil is hard to justify when we’re shown from the start that (the apparently ironically named) Maleficent is actually good at heart.  But still.  The dragon is hands down the coolest thing about Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty.  It’s a big part of what secures Maleficent a special place atop the pyramid of Disney villains, her signature move, the trick up her sweeping purple sleeve. This movie does (eventually) get around to giving us a dragon, but it’s not a very good dragon.

Honestly, though, if you like the movie as much as we did, it’s easy to overlook its flaws, which are (though not non-existent) hardly glaring enough to detract from the overall experience.

7.) Snowpiercer (A-/A)

Why I Liked It:
Summer is too early to talk seriously about Academy Awards, but I think Tilda Swinton’s and John Hurt’s costumes both deserve an acting nomination.  Seriously these costumes are like characters themselves.  Hurt’s eerie, oversized spectacles with their grime-ridden frames, Swinton’s false teeth, flimsy barrette, thick glasses, and kooky suits!  Come on, Hurt’s spectacles alone give a more memorable performance than many lead actors in lesser summer sci-fi flicks.  If there’s any justice in this world, we’ll see Swinton’s false teeth walking the red carpet come February!

I saw Snowpiercer late, and I had already heard that it was pretty good but very depressing.  I agree that it’s good, far better than the other sci-fi films Hollywood has been treating us to lately.  But actually, I didn’t think it was that depressing at all.

To me, it seemed like a carefully crafted, well executed illustration of what several philosophers have to say about how societies work.

It is definitely an allegory (though while I found the allegory almost painfully, beat-you-over-the-head-with-it obvious, the people who watched it with me when I saw it a second time didn’t have the same impression.  So maybe the allegory isn’t as obnoxiously pointed as I originally thought).

I’m not a fan of allegory generally, but Snowpiercer works for me for a couple of reasons.  One is that the central character (played by Chris Evans using his growliest voice), seems like a real, fully realized, distinct human protagonist, not just some archetype.  So we can sympathize him and care about what’s motivating him.  (He definitely has archetypal qualities, but Evans’s emotive performance makes those easy to look past if we so choose.)

The other great contributor to the success of Snowpiercer is its brilliant aesthetic.  Such rich, evocative set dressings and costumes with fantastic cinematography and a great score by Marco Beltrami!

The entire supporting cast is great, but Octavia Spencer, Jamie Bell, and Ewen Bremner feel more like real people, while Tilda Swinton, John Hurt, and Ed Harris have a larger-than-life, storybookish, archetypal quality.  It’s a nice balance that works particularly well because other players (most noticeably Kang-ho Song and Ah-Sung Ko) deftly walk the line between these two extremes.

Tilda Swinton’s performance alone (while a bit much at times) makes the movie for me.  She’s over-the-top, but so what?  I couldn’t look away.  John Hurt’s very good, too.  Actually, the movie is universally well acted.

But depressing?  Nah.  I didn’t find it depressing at all.  (Only when I thought, “Wow, I wish our poor got to eat food as healthy as those protein blocks!  Now off to get my daughter a Happy Meal!”)

Others may have different takes, but I found the movie curiously open-ended.  I see it this way.  The film says, “Here is how the system works.  Now you have one choice.  You can either work within the system, or you can get off the train.  If you get off the train, it might be better.  Or it might be worse.  You can ask other people on the train for advice, but they haven’t been outside the train.  You can’t ask anyone outside the train for advice because you’re inside the train.”  Clearly if anybody is going to make it off the train, it’s going to be a very specific type of person.  If anybody can survive outside the system, it’s these people (because of who they are).  But can they survive?

I see the film’s ending as a definite maybe, and I don’t see how (on its own terms) Snowpiercer can possibly give a better answer than that.  So…depressing?  No.  It’s more like a diagram in a textbook, illustrating a concept (only it’s a textbook at Hogwarts, so the still photos are highly kinetic).

Why You Might Not Like It:
Even as pretentious movies go, Snowpiercer is way, way too impressed with itself.  The thing is, yes, it’s well made.  And yes, it’s a beautifully crafted allegory and all.  But it’s not telling us anything particularly mind-blowing, is it?

Basically I see it as a reasonably effective, entertaining illustration of certain social philosophies that everybody who cares has already read all about a long time ago (or possibly gleaned from watching The Matrix).  Snowpiercer isn’t saying anything new or anything radical (at this point in time).  Maybe these ideas were radical at one time.  But at one time, Socrates drank a bunch of hemlock, too.  Most people aren’t losing much sleep over that thousands of years later.  You know what I mean?

Now maybe if you presented these ideas in a less allegorical, more transparent form to impressionable schoolchildren and then gave them guns, you might get in some hot water.  (But mainly for giving schoolchildren guns.)  Honestly, at this late stage of the game, the ideas this movie presents are not radical at all, and they’re dangerous only if you can think.  And thinking people can get access to these same ideas in hundreds of places other than this movie.  (Sometimes–even if they’re not well read–in their own brains.)

So the movie is good, but it’s nothing new, and it’s also kind of sloppy at times.  If you’re watching it and not thinking, “Okay, this is an allegory,” then there are all sorts of plot elements along the way that make very little sense.  (First of all, why go out of your way to oppress people even when it isn’t strictly necessary?)  Characters do some crazy things.  Some have strange, unexplained abilities.  (One can predict the future.  One can withstand a bazillion seemingly fatal wounds.)  And sometimes, the weirdest stuff happens for no apparent reason.  (If you’ve seen the movie, you know the kind of stuff I mean.)  If you’re viewing the film as an allegory, you’re less worried about these practical concerns because you’re not looking for realism in the narrative events.  You’re looking for abstract meaning.  But if you’re not viewing it as an allegory, you’re channeling Keanu Reeves in The Matrix and going, “Whoa!”

I guess the biggest limitation of Snowpiercer is a double-edged dilemma.  If you recognize the film as an allegory, you’re like, “Nice demonstration of theories I already knew.  Nothing too original here.”  If you’re viewing it literally, on the other hand, you’re like, “Wow!  That movie went off the rails there at the end!  For the last twenty minutes, nothing that happened made any sense!  And did you notice X, Y, and Z early on?  That didn’t make any sense, either!  A whole lot of this movie doesn’t make any sense!”  Either way, you’re slightly disappointed.

Snowpiercer is probably the best science fiction movie to come out this year, and I would gladly watch another similarly well-crafted piece of cinema from the same director, but for me, the film falls short of achieving the masterpiece designation that some fans insist it deserves.

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