Enough said,

With an impressively hefty budget of $220 million, Disney and Marvel are taking a considerable swing for the fences on a single film.

The Avengers, the superhero movie to end all superhero movies, rolls into theaters on May 4, 2012. Anticipation is high, especially since writer/director/wunderkind Joss Whedon got on board.

Fan faith is palpable in this particular fellow, and for good reason; he was responsible for Firefly, one of the most popular (and in my humble opinion, just about the best) sci-fi series of all time.

Like drunk clowns dog-piling out of a circus car, Fox executives cancelled the show, but not before mercilessly messing with it (they altered the running order so the premiere episode actually aired eleventh, a telling example of colossally mindless ineptitude), then, sullenly dumbstruck, watched it take off on DVD like no show has before or since. At the time of writing and almost a decade later, it still sits in Amazon’s current top 20 best selling sci-fi DVDs. To blindly miss this succulent, fecund teat by such an incompetently wide-of-the-mark fumble demonstrates just how hopelessly visionless these people must really be.

The DVD sales prompted Universal to acquire the movie rights and fund the feature film Serenity, also written and directed by Whedon. The movie broke even at the box office, but won numerous prestigious awards, and, as might be expected, performed strongly on DVD. And so it should, because it was a damned fine film.

(Unfortunately, Whedon was also the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I think is terribly overrated. I freely admit my prejudice is aimed directly at its star, who I unerringly refer to as “that Gellar twit” whenever Buffy comes up in conversation (after some personal reflection on this bias, I eventually discovered she reminds me of a particularly obnoxious ex-girlfriend, but she blighted the entire series for me nonetheless). I fully understand such opinions expressed in the sci-fi community may raise the rarely-groomed hackles of those who periodically attend conventions clad in Vulcan ears or waving plastic lightsabers, but I care not a jot. Anyway, I’m getting off track here…)

For those who don’t know, The Avengers are a group of individually powerful superheroes, most of which already have movies (or multiple movies) dedicated to their stories. Ironman, Captain America, The Hulk, Thor, Hawkeye (the marksman archer dude played by Jeremy Renner in Thor) and Black Widow (played by Scarlet Johansson in Ironman 2). Called in by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson in Ironman 1 & 2) to combat some machination of Loki, Thor’s sibling nemesis. Whedon has promised dynamism between the characters:

“…these people shouldn’t be in the same room let alone on the same team—and that is the definition of family.”

Which is a lively thought while decompressing from Thanksgiving and barreling towards Christmas…

As you probably know by now I typically get nervous when I see a long list of producers attached to a movie, but not as much as when I see a long list of writers. Fortunately, while The Avengers has plenty of the former, it has a blessed paucity of the latter.

Zak Penn (The Incredible Hulk, X-Men: The Last Stand) wrote the original screenplay before Whedon took the reins, who considerably re-worked it to the extent that rumors abound Penn may not get a writing credit at all. He doesn’t seem to mind this, though, and has expressed complete trust in Whedon’s ability:

“Do you believe in Joss Whedon? I believe in him. That’s my comment. If you believe in Joss, you should be excited.”

Sounds like he’s already received a nice fat check. Good for him.

Release date: May 4, 2012.

One of the biggest movie surprises of the year was Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Director Rupert Wyatt took what could have been a mercilessly exploitive rip off from the established yet dated franchise and injected a whole new lease of life. Sensitively written and directed, and anchored by a spellbinding motion-captured performance by Andy Serkis (who Fox are pushing for an Oscar nomination), I heralded it, in my August 15th review, as my favorite movie so far this year. And I’ve got to say, as we slide into November, it still hasn’t been toppled.

Of course, Fox is salivating at the prospect of an extended series of profitable sequels, and good for them. If they’re as accomplished as this first one, we’re in for quite a hairy ride (I don’t know what it is about ape movies that encourage movie reviewers to start unloading such shudderingly weak puns, but the sheer delight I feel at that one is actually tinged with a hint of despair).

Andy Serkis has already been locked in to play Caesar in an unspecified number of sequels, and Wyatt has as director for at least the next installment. This is nothing but good news, but as yet, there’s no script. Wyatt has revealed some of the ideas he’s been mulling over, however:

“You could start this story again eight years from where we left off, the next generation of apes, those that have come from our protagonists, perhaps going in to a conflict with humans and showing real fear, in the same way as going into war for young soldiers in this day and age, telling their story. Or how apes are taking over cities, and being moved into human environments and having to interact with them and deal with things that are part of our culture and understand and evolve through them. Spies that are in the employ of the apes, working against humans and humans maybe existing underground, because that’s a way they can avoid the virus, coming up above ground wearing gas masks, and maybe that’s what dehumanizes them.”

And in an interview from comingsoon.net:

“The great thing about apes is they reach adulthood within 8 years, so you’d still have a very vital Caesar as the leader but you’ve got a whole new generation of apes growing up within a world of conflicts. That world is where we’ve leveled the playing field in terms of the human pockets of resistance. Think apes but “Full Metal Jacket,” apes going into urban environments and fighting street-to-street with human resistance. Maybe you’ve got humans in the employ of the apes working as spies against the humans. Or you’ve got Cobra who’s split off from the other apes and he’s looking to commit genocide and just wipe humans off the face of the earth, whereas Caesar is more conflicted. There’s so much you can do, it’s so Shakespearian in a way. I guess I’d like to follow in the steps of Chris Nolan, the way he’s taken Batman into a place that’s really intriguing and pretty dark. This film in many ways is a fairy tale like a baby floating in a basket down the river. It starts small and gets bigger.”

How refreshing to have a director making movies for us that don’t revolve around creating ever more spectacular explosions punctuated by smarmily quipped one-liners. With no script, however, we’re not going to be seeing a release date anytime soon.

More good news is that Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, Rise‘s screenwriters, are also returning. There’s no word yet on any attachment for James Franco and Freida Pinto, but as they weren’t much more than supporting characters in the first one there’s no great loss there if their roles aren’t reprised.

It’s incredible to consider how far we’ve come, in a single generation, from a man in a monkey suit.

The adage “time is money” was never more aptly used than in writer/director Andrew Niccol’s new offering In Time. Justin Timberlake stars as Will Salas, an inhabitant of a dystopian world were time instead of money is traded for resources. Genetic modifications have allowed people virtual immortality, requiring populations to be managed. Everybody has a genetic clock embedded in their forearm that tracks its host’s age. People stop aging at twenty-five, after which they have to earn time from jobs, or steal it, to carry on living.

The rich are those that have more time than they know what to do with, and when Salas, who’s down to his last few hours, saves a suicidal rich man with a century on his clock from a violent encounter, the man rewards him with his time, which can be transferred from arm to arm. This massive increase in virtual wealth allows Salas to buy his way into the rich side of town, though the death of his youthful mother triggers a vengeful plan to topple the status quo.

There’s a thinly veiled allegory at work here, where the privilege gap between the top 1% and the struggling-to-survive is starkly drawn, and is particularly topical in the current economic climate.

It’s an interesting premise for a movie, and certainly feels to be in capable hands (Niccol directed 1997′s Gattaca and co-wrote the highly regarded The Truman Show), at least for the first half. Thereafter the plot becomes mired in an hackneyed action movie format, as Salas teams with Sylvia Weis (played by Amanda Seyfried) the brattish daughter of the superrich bad guy (Vincent Kartheiser) responsible for this time-centric control system.

Salas is pursued by the time-keepers, the cops tasked with preventing abuses of the system. Cillian Murphy plays the head time-keeper with a panache that steals every scene he’s in, presenting a watchable counterpoint to Timberlake’s somewhat wooden performance.

I really wanted to like this movie, but I couldn’t help feeling a little more thought was required in especially the third act. I still feel it’s worth going to see, however.

Rating: PG-13. Running time: 1 hour 49 minutes. Opened 28 October.

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The 1982 John Carpenter’s version of The Thing has gone down in movie history as the very definition of an Antarctic alien horror movie. This new prequel documents what happens at the Norwegian station immediately preceding the events of Carpenter’s opus.

It actually more follows the storyline of the 1951 The Thing from Another World version that inspired the 1982 classic. I re-watched this original recently and I must say, I was impressed by its structure, dialogue, and plotting. Sure, many old B&W movies compare unfavorably to modern fare, seeming trite and unsophisticated, but this was really quite entertaining, keeping me involved from the opening credits to the end.

Apparently I’m not alone in this opinion, either. In 2001, the Library of Congress cited the movie as “culturally significant” and a copy was placed in the National Film Registry.

So that’s an intimidating pedigree to live up too. Unfortunately, The Thing 2011 doesn’t quite hit the high mark its lineage set.

Obviously, the structure of the movie is bound by the terminal bookend that opened its predecessor, and director Matthijs van Heijningen Jr. valiantly attempts to get us there, but nothing original really occurs. There are a couple of little twists here and there, but it does seem more like a remake than a prequel.

A Norwegian Antarctic base discovers an alien spacecraft buried in the ice, with the body of an extraterrestrial similarly encased nearby. Obviously, foreigners can’t be trusted to dig stuff up with anything approaching aplomb, so they call in a couple of American digging experts to appropriate the lead in the movie and guarantee a higher domestic box office return.

The monster invariably defrosts and begins tearing the crew a new one. It achieves this goal by absorbing its victims’ cells, thereby replicating their appearance. This doppleganging creates all kinds of distrust, ramping up the tension, but no real scares: the lacking character development creates little empathy. In movies, indeed as in any other narrative format, until you give the audience a reason to care about a character, they’re not going to.

The plot progresses much the same as the ’82 version, with much evisceration, dancing tentacles and insectoid legs growing out of things they really shouldn’t. The special effects are impressive, but nowhere near as groundbreaking as those seen in its predecessor.

One of the Americans, Kate Lloyd (played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead) evokes notes of Alien‘s Ripley as a woman working in a man’s world, but doesn’t quite pull the protagonist role off with the same authority. I felt some angst for her character in particular, as opposed to when the other anonymously bearded members of the crew began dropping like ninepins; it felt more like the filmmakers were checking off a list.

A credible attempt at a prequel from a first time director, but I can’t help feeling it could’ve been done so much better.

Rating: R. Running time: 1 hour 42 minutes. Opened on October 14th.

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by Stefan Abrutat

I’m still not sure how exciting boxing would become if humans were replaced by eight foot tall robots. After all, without real danger, what’s the point? It seems to me that the sport would diminish to the plastic spectacle of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots or a video game, with none of the drama or emotion combat between two comparatively more squishy humans generates.

These considerations get tossed out with the contents of the spit bucket by Real Steel, a curious choice by movie-makers, seemingly hamstringing themselves before they’ve even begun. However, the movie is a lot better than I thought it could be possibly be, with some storming fight scenes that are nevertheless passionately involving.

Now, I’ve always considered Hugh Jackman to be a bit of a theatrical luvvie, whose heart seems to lie firmly in the theater, and especially in musicals. However, with a worried eyebrow raised, I found his turn as Wolverine in 2000’s X-Men and sequels refreshingly impressive. Since then I’ve been quite happy to trust his talent, and Real Steel doesn’t disappoint.

Jackman plays a somewhat nefarious former boxer who makes a precarious living building and training the robots that replaced him. While he scrambles for cash, he sees an opportunity to make a little by challenging his former sister-in-law for custody of his eleven-year-old son upon the death of his mother. With some plot legerdemain, the estranged two end up on a cross-country tour with a robot they recover from a scrap yard, combining a father-son redemption story with a Rocky-like emergence of a former-bum robot that suddenly finds itself, under Jackman’s control, capable of fighting above its pay-grade.

The relationship between Charlie (Jackman) and Max (played by an enthusiastic Dakota Goyo) blossoms throughout, with some nice spoken interplay. There are the occasional eye-rollers you can expect from a Disney movie, but they’re nowhere as bad as they could have been. Directed by Shawn Levy (Night at the Museum) and also starring Evangeline Lily (Lost) as the love interest with the forgiving nature of nothing less than a full-blown saint (Charlie really is a dick).

Tip: watch it on IMAX if you can. The fight scenes will make you gape.

ating: PG-13. Running time: 2 hours 6 minutes. Released: October 7, 2011.

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by Stefan Abrutat

It’s difficult to consider the movie experiences I treasure from my youth may now be so dated the decision has been made to remake them.

For a random example, one of my favorite movies, the 1949 black & white Ealing Studios comedy Whiskey Galore! could never be remade, in any shape or form, and still retain its impudent charm. Can’t be done, in my humble opinion. Occasionally movies like this come along that are so iconic remaking them is not an homage, it’s an insult. ET is another example. As is Close Encounters or Blade Runner. See what I mean?

I understand tastes and expectations change with time. Factors like advances in audience sophistication require much higher levels of technical aptitude to be displayed onscreen than when I was a lad. The original Star Wars IS dated, for example, which is why Lucas reinvigorated the special effects to find a new audience amongst our increasingly dismissive youth. (I actually applaud him for that, but not, for example, foolishly adding Vader’s final “NOOOOO!!!”)

Now we want flawless CGI and more realistic in-camera effects where we used to rely on story and character to hold our focus. We need more numerous and impressive explosions to sate our lust for spectacle. Films like Transformers 3: the Dark Side of Movies tarnish our multiplex screens with pointless mayhem, and rake in half a billion dollars (which unfortunately means there’ll be more of the same. Much more).

One movie I never thought would require a remake is 1982′s The Thing. Surely director John Carpenter, then at the peak of his powers, created a timeless classic? This movie carries so much weight it’s annually enthusiastically viewed (along with The Shining) by the staff of the US South Pole station after the last flight leaves before the sunless six month dark of winter sets in.

Though the movie opened to mixed reviews and didn’t even break even at the box office, it has since come to be regarded as a near-perfect example of the sci-fi/horror genre. However, when one considers it opened against ET and Blade Runner (the latter of which also performed poorly), it’s fair to assume it got somewhat lost amongst the cutesiness.

Anyway, I recently caught the 2011 remake trailer and my heart sank into my shoes.

So, dutifully brimming with acerbic vitriol, I sat down to write a withering rebuke to the filmmakers for daring to dirty my fondest memories of the first movie to ever scare me shitless.

Then, to my palpable delight, I discovered it’s a prequel, not a remake at all. Oh joy! So happy, I bounced down to the corner store to buy a celebratory six pack.

See, the 1982 movie (ostensibly a remake itself of the 1951 The Thing from Another World) starts out with an alien-infected Alaskan Malamute attempted to evade a pursuing Norwegian helicopter while the occupants try to shoot it. The shots alert a nearby American Antarctic station, who rush to the dog’s aid. One Norwegian inadvertently blows himself up, and the American’s shoot and kill the second. Unable to raise outside help by radio, the Americans investigate the Norwegian station, only to find it burned to the ground, with all personnel either missing or dead. They also discover a hollowed block of ice and a mangled, burned humanoid body, and subsequently a nearby crater containing a spacecraft.

Of course, the Malamute transforms into a great beastie and releases the infection, which spreads into the American base and causes all sorts of high octane, stomach churning chills.

The prequel, it seems, will document the happenings at the Norwegian station. If it’s crafted with anything close to the aplomb of the 1982 version, get ready for the fright of your life.

Rating: R. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. Release date: October 14, 2011.

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by Stefan Abrutat

It’s rare a decent movie gets by me; I pay too much attention to the movie press and sites like Ain’t it Cool News and Rotten Tomatoes. My obsessive need to entertain myself (or rather, insist other people do) thus becomes your celluloid revelation.

These three movies combined made less than US$100 million domestically, which is a shocking reflection on how good they are. All three are available for rent right now.

Source Code

I can see the pitch to the studio now: “Combine Quantum Leap and Groundhog Day. Liberally season with Inception. Bung it on a train about to explode from a terrorist bomb. Rinse and repeat.”

Such a plot would have most studio execs reaching for the aspirin or whiskey bottle, but somehow, this wonderfully complicated cloud of ideas won through to the silver screen. I love movies that make me sit forward in my seat and think. It doesn’t happen often, because studio scrota tend to dumb down anything intriguing given half a chance.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Cpt. Calter Stevens, a dying soldier commissioned for one last task, (via some stretching gobbledygooky science, I must confess) to enter the mind of one particular commuter on a doomed train bound for downtown Chicago. Stevens mission is to find the bomber so clues can be garnered for an even bigger promised dirty bomb attack on the city’s downtown. Repeat ad infinitum. To tell you more would risk spoiling the plot.

Rating: PG-13. Running time: 1 hour 27 minutes. Box Office: $54.7 million. Released on DVD: July 26, 2011.

Paul

Another uproarious comedy from the British Pegg & Frost stable, previously responsible for such movies as Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.

Two British fantasy/sci-fi geeks attend the huge Comic-Con in San Diego, then rent an RV to tour the famous alien-landing sites of America. On the way they pick up a bona fide, wonderfully-CGIed alien called “Paul”, beautifully underplayed by Seth Rogen, as he escapes the authorities and needs help to rendezvous with a ride home.

There’s a cascade of subtext inhabiting this story, both of the pleasant Brit abroad (dashing stereotypes therewith), arrogant big US government ineptitudes, and some fairly blatant science vs. America conversations.

Of course, we know our plucky-but-unassuming heroes are going to win out, but the journey is where the comedic gold lies.

Rating: R. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. Box Office: $37.4 million. Released on DVD: August 9, 2011.

TrollHunter

The title tells you what it is, and it doesn’t disappoint.

A miserable $300,000 totaled this movie’s US domestic box office, which I attribute to scandalous lack of transatlantic marketing. This Norwegian vérité-style movie has English subtitles, which I’m sure put a lot of people off, but the movie itself rocks as a much as a troll exposed to sunlight.

We’re not talking about the knee-high trolls that permeate the American movie mythos, folks, we’re talking the trolls of Tolkien’s borrowed lore; tall as a tree, dumb as a stump, and ready to rain down destruction like an honest-to-goodness monster should.

A trio of film students hook up with the eponymous secretive Norwegian government Troll hunter, who roams the Scandinavian forests like a wildlife ranger, managing populations and studying their habits. The effects couldn’t be better and the atmosphere is palpable.

It’s a helluva concept, and pulled off with great panache. At times both scary and hilarious, it’s one of the greatest unknown treasures of the movie world over the past couple of years.

Rating: PG-13. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. Box Office: $0.3 million. Released on DVD: August 23, 2011.

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by Stefan Abrutat

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Star Wars fan, just not a frothing, gibbering, Lucas-is-a-Genius type of fan. I don’t go to conventions or dress up as Darth Maul (although I have been known to make the occasional swipe at a passing friend with my motion-sensing iPhone lightsaber audio app, but let’s be honest, who hasn’t?). I’d rather have a root canal than engage in pointless, circuitous, endless debates about how, in later versions, Lucas screwed this bit up or should have left that bit unmolested.

I think George Lucas is a visionary, but not a skilled storyteller. If you look at the cringing narrative faux pas he’s been guilty of over this series of movies, the use of the word “canon” in relation to Star Wars material makes me want to grip the feckless offender’s homemade Jedi bathrobe, pull him in nice and close, and interrogate the skittish adolescent about his lifestyle and language choices.

I can tell you this abiding memory, though: I was eight years old in 1977 when Star Wars came out. My brother and I left the theater with eyes shining, chattering excitedly about the experience. We’d never seen anything like it. Neither had my accompanying mother, who commented, “What a load of rubbish.”

There was an initial dip of disappointment when I considered I had thoroughly enjoyed something my parent dismissed as piffle, but this was rapidly replaced by a surge of rebellion. She didn’t like it, because she didn’t get it. It was the first time I felt the thrill of independence, and considered an adult to be fallible. Star Wars gave me that, and I’ll be forever grateful. However, I somehow doubt driving wedges between parents and their offspring was ever Lucas’ intent…

The Content

Anyway, to the Blu-ray pack. Nine discs, one for each of the six movies plus three with additional documentaries, interviews, deleted/extended scenes, etc; all the usual bells and whistles. Two commentary tracks for each movie. No original trilogy theatrical versions and (thank all that is holy) no 1978 Holiday Special.

The Infamous Changes

Most of the controversial changes are inconsequential to the casual fan. The most abhorred change made in the 2004 re-release is retained, where Han Solo shoots the bounty hunter in the Cantina self-defensively instead of pre-emptively. Many purists were up in arms about the shallowing damage done to his arc throughout the trilogy. I tend to agree, though I steadfastly refuse to froth.

Puppet Yoda from The Phantom Menace has been wisely replaced by the CGI version from the following prequels.

Darth Vader has an added “NOOOOO!!” when he tosses the Emperor over the balcony, which is just as uncomfortably cringe-inducing as the “NOOOOO!!” squeaked by Hayden Christensen when Anakin Skywalker completes his conversion to a Sith Lord in Revenge of the Sith. Utter, utter Jar Jar Binks-level mistake.

I’m sure there’s many others, but those are the only ones that really stood out for me.

The Sound! Oh, the Sound!

The movies, as one might expect, look magnificent in all their high definition glory, but what really blows me away is the sound. This is DTS-HD Master Audio 6.1 channel surround lossloss (or so I’ve been told). I don’t really know what any of that means but it inspires one word: epic. Watching movies with sound design on this level make you realize just how integral it is in the immersion process.

When that first Star Destroyer passed slowly overhead you can feel it in your marrow. Space battles and fight scenes are a cacophony of ear candy as ships and laser blasts swoosh through the soundscape, rattling fillings and making you jump. Explosions back you up the sofa. If you close your eyes you’re in it.

It’s breathtaking, and honestly whisked me back to that evening when I was eight. Any movie that can stir such emotional childhood memories deserves a coveted place in one’s heart.

$79.99 from most large retailers. Released on September 16th.

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by Stefan Abrutat

Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ve seen it all before. But not like this, we haven’t.

Ocean’s 11/12/13 director Steven Soderbergh delivers the smartest movie to address a worldwide pandemic to date, from a stringent script by Scott Z. Burns. It’s terrifying because it’s real, accurately and clinically portraying the most likely course of events should such a disaster occur. Our leadership collapses and hides. Heroic doctors risk their own lives working manically to contain and decode the pathogen while the rest of us hole up at home and hope it goes away. When a simple touch from infected humans (or anything they’ve previously touched) can kill you a short couple of days later, the filmmakers don’t particularly need to turn the infected into sprinting zombies to imbue the audience with a communal bowel-loosener. You’ll never look at an elevator button or a bar bowl of pub peanuts the same way again.

Matt Damon plays the everyman who loses his wife (Gwyneth Paltrow) and stepson to the killer disease as soon as the movie begins. She’s patient zero; the person that brings the malady back from a business trip to Hong Kong. Immune himself, he spends the rest of the flick trying to protect his surviving daughter from infection.

The virus spreads like they always do, only now we’ve got the advantage of the internet to battle it. This is a double-edged sword, however, as this very tool is also used by those seeking profit from disaster, such as the repellent conspiracy blogger played by Jude Law, whose recommendation of a fake homeopathic cure causes widespread rioting.

One point that didn’t escape my attention was the role of government. There was a duality to the way they were portrayed that could quite easily be the core of the story. At times irrelevant and corrupt, but in turn shown as dedicated and benevolent. Such a view serves to underscore the idea that governments are actually made up of people, not necessarily paranoid, self-serving automatons.

Laurence Fishburne, Jennifer Ehle, Kate Winslet, Marion Cotillard and Elliott Gould lead the medical charge against the disease. With such a numerous and distinguished cast there’s precious little time to develop any real character depth, which is eerily poignant when you consider the faceless slayer stalking them. Will a killer like this on the loose, power, money and celebrity mean nothing: we’re all just little animals, trying to survive another day.

In some ways, then, the virus is the biggest star of them all.

Rating: PG-13. Running time: I hour 46 minutes. Opened on 9th September.