Category: Netflix (page 18 of 27)

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Kick-Ass

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A lot of production companies, investors and even film-makers like to assume that we, as a movie-going audience, are stupid. They think we can’t handle movies with deep characters, complex plots or themes that transcend a work and try to tell us something about ourselves. So more often than not, a movie about giant fighting robots or girls with guy trouble or unlikely partners solving crimes tend to be watered down in such a way that they’re palatable to the blandest, lowest common denominator of palate out there. Thankfully, some other projects aren’t afraid to take a chance on something smart, to take conventions we as an audience might take for granted and flip things around just to see what happens. Kick-Ass falls into the latter category, not only in that it adapts one of those comic books that looks at super-heroes from a completely different perspective as most mainstream IPs, but also in that this adaptation differs quite a bit from the book. I wouldn’t know, since I haven’t read the books myself, so I’ll be cribbing notes from critics far better (or at least better known) than myself.

Dr. Punchy Wright can hunt me down later and break my face if it really becomes an issue.

Courtesy LionsGate Entertainment

Taking cues from the Spider-Man movies back when they were still good, Kick-Ass introduces us to a teenage high school loser who is both a social outcast and an unashamed nerd. He does well enough in school to not be in the slacker crowd, he certainly isn’t a jock, he’s practically invisible to girls (which he claims is his “only real superpower”) and among his friends, to paraphrase his own words, he’s not the funny one. And yet, it’s living this kind of mediocre existence that leads him to buy a dopey-looking wetsuit, pick up a baton and start fighting crime. Or trying to. Mostly, he gets the crap beaten out of him. However, somebody with a camera phone tosses his exploits at the Internet, and WHAM, he’s a star. He’s a super-hero. And he’s getting pulled bodily into an escalating confrontation between a sadistic mob boss who’s also a family man, and a devoted father/endearing daughter team who are also sadistic costumed vigilantes.

Kick-Ass, as a comic, seems to be in the same vein as Watchmen or Wanted, taking a more cynical view of the world of super-heroism and trying to inject a dose of realism or humanity into the characters involved. Of the three, Watchmen weathered the transition to the screen the most intact, with its themes and nuances preserved in a nearly immaculate fashion. It’s a haunting commentary on the human condition couched in the deconstruction of super-heroes in general. Wanted was changed almost entirely from its comic book roots, which is a shame because a lot of the fun in that work comes from the way its protagonists behave given that they have super powers but none of the constraints of being ‘heroes’. Read the book if you want to know what I’m talking about, but what Wanted got right was the theme of doing something with your life that gets you out of the mundane things that you know in your mind are slowly killing you, but you do them anyway because it’s easier to get paid for that crap than it is to try something new and potentially dangerous. Kick-Ass also changes, ejecting as it does a lot of the cynicism from the printed page and opting for a more balanced moralistic stance. Sure, some of the stuff on screen is dark and a jab is taken at the audience’s expectations once or twice, but on the whole, part of what makes the experience so good is that it’s more interested in having fun than pointing out how pathetic you are.

Courtesy LionsGate Entertainment

As a character, Kick-Ass is aware of how pathetic he is but he doesn’t let that stop him. He’s determined to at least try to make a difference, and it leads to him being extremely endearing and a true underdog of a hero. I think that some people might overlook Aaron Johnson’s work entirely but I can’t do that in good conscience. This is a solid leading role and as much as the movie is almost stolen entirely from his character, Johnson still comes through on the other side with a performance that is one of the best I’ve seen in a movie like this since the first two Spider-Man films.

In fact, Kick-Ass is, in terms of being endearing and realistic, almost a better Spider-Man than Spider-Man was. This film made me miss those early days of Tobey Maguire getting to know his powers and trying like hell to win Mary Jane’s heart. Both his Spider-Man and Aaron Johnson’s Kick-Ass have as their core power, not radioactive webbing or gamma rays or a magical MacGuffin, but real heart and a never-say-die attitude. If Kick-Ass as a film were a more cynical work, the optimism that fuels the teenage hero would have him dead in the 89th minute, the camera pulling back from his broken and lifeless body before cutting to black as some ironically upbeat music plays.

Courtesy LionsGate Entertainment

The film isn’t without some delicious soundtrack dissonance, however, and when it comes to that sort of thing, I will be hard-pressed to name a better example than Hit-Girl going to town on bad guys with bladed weapons to the music of the Banana Splits. Chloe Moretz completely owns both this role and pretty much any time she’s on screen. She’s the Comedian from Watchmen only 11 years old and wearing pig-tails: completely aware of how damn depraved her actions are but not giving a shit because she’s slaying bad guys. She knows that what she does shocks onlookers and will leave the cops who show up at the scene speechless, and that’s the whole point. If this is what she does to folks who break the law, what chance have you got? Better put down the cocaine and turn yourself in before you end up with a balisong in the throat, boss.

A lot of critics cried out in dismay at the very notion of this little girl perpetuating and, even worse, being the target of this level of high-energy, unabashed and completely bone-crunching violence. They seem to think that sick thrills or cheap laughs would be derived from the end result. It’s like the outcry that emerged when BioWare advertised Mass Effect included sex: completely uninformed and totally wrong. No, Hit-Girl’s exploits are not played for laughs. The way this girl has been brought up is entirely backwards. She knows it, her father knows it, and the audience knows it, too. However, she makes the most of what she’s got, because railing against her father’s vendetta is only going to make things worse. She wants her father to be happy, and the most expedient way to do that is to cut a bloody swath through the people who made his life miserable. Hit-Girl is a smart, dedicated and deep down very compassionate character, even if she is violent, cruel, foul-mouthed and maybe a little cracked. She’s got more complexity than most female characters in films today, and I for one am glad that the makers of Kick-Ass didn’t pull a single punch when it came to putting her through her paces.

Courtesy LionsGate Entertainment

Speaking of Hit-Girl’s upbringing, another strong performance in Kick-Ass is Nicholas Cage as Big Daddy. His costume, performance and methodology are clearly a send-up of Batman, but his character is unconstrained by Batman’s one rule of not killing his opponents. If Batman did ever eschew that rule, it would look a lot like this. As a result, Big Daddy might be one of the best depictions of Batman ever, if that makes any sense. Cage does some things with the character that are at once fantastic and downright strange, and it’s a testament to his capabilities as an actor that are sometimes undercut by a bland concept or bad screenwriting, like National Treasure, Next or Ghost Rider. In fact, I’m going to say this right now, and I don’t care who knows it: I like Nicholas Cage. I think he’s talented and I enjoy watching him on-screen, even if I’m laughing at his ass. Half the crap he does isn’t necessarily his fault, and even when he’s off, he’s still memorable. I like him. There. I said it.

In terms of the rest of the production, Christopher Mintz-Plasse may surprise some of the fans of McLovin in his turn as a fellow comic-book fan donning a costume and calling himself Red Mist. It’s part of a plot that works very well and hums along without losing the audience, bolstered by the musical choices in both soundtrack and score. The film isn’t perfect, as the low budget shows in places and sometimes the film seems to have a bit of filler here and there, but it never gets in the way of the movie being fun. I get the feeling that a lot of the look and feel of the movie comes right out of the comics, and as much as the blacker portions of the story and theme have been left behind, the result still manages to take a jab at us as the audience as much as it puts its characters through the wringer. Like the changes made to Watchmen, my suspicion is that Matthew Vaughn and company kept to the spirit of the work while changing things up a bit to make the story a bit more suited for the silver screen.

Regardless of all of that, Kick-Ass kicks ass. Provided you’re a fan of super-heroes and not put off by the sort of hyper-realized violence that would be right at home in a Sam Peckinpah or Paul Verhoven flick, it belongs on your Netflix queue if not your DVD shelf. It’s a brutal, no-holds-barred, steel-toed-boot-to-the-crotch-while-laughing-all-the-while action comedy that has no fear, no hesitation and no limits. It’s a roller coaster through a demented carnival of bright costumes and gushing blood that occasionally smacks you in the face with a water balloon with profanity scribbled all over it in Sharpie.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Batman

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The right-hand column of my blog (you fine Escapist folks know where it is if you’re a follower of mine so I won’t reiterate its URL) haunts me. I put a few things on my Netflix queue that, for one reason or another, I think would be interesting to review. The recent remake of The Taking of Pelham 123 looks ripe for taking the piss out of, Tron needs to be seen with fresh eyes unmasked by the glasses of nostalgia, Kingdom of Heaven is reportedly much better in a Director’s Cut format, and so on. Ideally, I would be able to watch these films and formulate their reviews while also working on the revisions of my novel. Unfortunately, we can’t all be Yahtzee Croshaw, what with his cushy Escapist gig and his shiny new blog and his upcoming novel and legions of rabid fans. Some of us have to continue working day jobs. And live in a dystopian nation of backwards politics hopped up on its own hype. And can’t seem to shake a World of Warcraft addiction. And aren’t as good-looking.

*ahem*

So here’s a review of 1989’s Batman instead.

Courtesy Warner Bros.

Batman, as it appeared at the hands of Tim Burton back when I was a young lad who hadn’t quite discovered the true joys of the female form yet, mixes the origin story of the Caped Crusader with that of his primary nemesis, the Joker. Gotham City is currently being run not by its long-suffering mayor but crime boss Carl Grissom, who seems to be getting away with it while Batman beats up muggers. It isn’t until Grissom’s “number one guy,” Jack Napier, gets shot in the face and takes a swim in a vat of chemicals to emerge as the Clown Prince of Crime that Batman goes after the syndicate. Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne, is himself being pursued by photojournalist Vicki Vale, who wants to know the truth behind the eccentric billionaire’s disappearances and behavior. Despite being rich, charming and charitable, there’s something a bit off about him, and she needs to find out what if she’s going to keep sleeping with him.

This was the first real attempt to make a celluloid Batman that’s more in the veins of Frank Miller than the camp that permeated the character in the 60’s. It was actually the work in the late 70’s Detective Comics that influence the gothic look and feel of Gotham City in Burton’s film. The soaring dark towers, flying buttresses and stoic sculptures would seep through this film into its first sequel and the animated series, which is still one of the best depictions of Batman to date. The story of Bruce Wayne’s never-ending quest for revenge and the villains that are drawn out by his particular form of mild sociopathy is quite dark, and Burton’s early filmmaking style underscores this darkness, as well as not having Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter anywhere in sight.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
Fighting crime is serious business.

Michael Keaton plays Wayne in a very particular way. Instead of making the dichotomy between the jet-set playboy and the haunted superhero obvious with voice affectations or mannerisms, we see the line between the two as somewhat blurred. Both Bruce and Batman are a little stiff, the former due to social awkwardness and the latter constrained by a rubber suit. Neither character is particularly wordy, and Keaton shows how the strange lifestyle of fighting crime by night permeates into one’s daytime activities with Wayne’s habits, mannerisms and speech patterns. He’s not my favorite Batman, but he’s close, and he’s one of the few who really focuses on the character’s inherent oddness.

Given that this is Batman, however, the title character isn’t quite the most interesting one. Jack Nicholson’s Joker is still held by many to be the best, harkening as he does to the days of Cesar Romero’s way of punctuating his lines with an insane laugh and dressing in bright colors. He’s quite joyful and there’s a lot to like in the way he approaches the darkness and deep psychosis of the “world’s first fully-functioning homicidal artist.” Some of his gags work very well, too – the boxing glove in particular. Not all of them do, however, and while he does dispatch innocents and henchmen alike with an amusing disdain, for me his performance somewhat lacks the cold razor’s edge that Mark Hamill occasionally unsheathes in his voice acting and that Heath Ledger wielded with the adroitness of a master fencer.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
The Joker + Prince = winning combination.

The biggest surprise for me, however, was how much I ended up liking some of the less colorful supporting actors. Kim Basinger, while always nice to look at, wasn’t quite as interesting for me as Robert Wuhl’s dedicated reporter character of Alexander Knox. He’s convinced that the Batman exists despite all the denials of Commissioner Gordon and others in authority, and his pursuit of the truth is peppered with a few good jokes and the sort of newspaper tropes that make All the President’s Men and State of Play such great films. I was sorry he didn’t make it into the sequel – I thought that, after the public admission of Batman’s existence, he’d want to interview the hero in some sort of Gotham Globe exclusive. Sort of like Lois Lane trying to land an interview with Superman, but without trying to make it into a date, because that would be gay.

The late great Jack Palance chews up some of the scenery in a delightfully hammy way, Billy Dee Williams makes Harvey Dent a smooth-talking charming DA that makes me mourn what became of the character at the hands of Joel Schumacher, and Michael Gough brings us Alfred Pennyworth’s trademark grandfatherly concern and dry humor. The writing isn’t too terrible, the action’s decent and the special effects are practical effects that are aging somewhat gracefully so far. The soundtrack’s an odd but interesting mix of Danny Elfman and Prince. And as much as I like the Tumbler from Nolan’s Batman films, I’m always delighted to see a Batmobile that looks like a Goddamn Batmobile. Because when you’re the Goddamn Batman, it’s not too much to ask to have a little style in your Goddamn Batmobile.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
It runs on jet fuel and awesome.

All in all, this is a decent comic book film that helped Hollywood realize that adaptations from that media to theirs was not only workable, but financially viable. Batman was the highest-grossing film of 1989, had a great deal of influence on future cinematic superhero works and inspired the animated series that launched the DC universe on the small screen. That’s undoubtedly a success, and it’s worth putting on your Netflix queue if you want to see where it all began, or if you like black and purple a lot. Even 20 years on, it’s echoes can still be felt in modern works dealing with dedicated and slightly crazy normal people who put on costumes to beat up criminals, which is something I’ll touch on when I review Kick-Ass next week.

I’ll see you fine folks then, provided I can fit the review in between the daily quests of my idiotic second job and my attempts to remind myself that my manuscript doesn’t completely suck.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Sherlock Holmes

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Necessity is the mother of invention. Along with being something Sherlock Holmes himself might utter while investigating a case, this idiom is also the reason I’m reviewing Guy Ritchie’s recent feature-film treatment of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective. I was originally planning to subject myself to the apparent mediocrity of The Taking of Pelham 123, since it’s been a while since I’ve found a movie average enough to warrant my ire, but my financial situation has caused Netflix to give me dirty looks instead of instantly streaming movies until I get my act together. Surprisingly, though, my desire to sound more like a critic and less like a fanboy is still going to be satisfied. You see, if it weren’t for the presence of Holmes & Watson, Sherlock Holmes would feel a lot like a movie that’s trying to both follow the lead of Pirates of the Caribbean and shamelessly appeal to the steampunk kids.

Courtesy Warner Bros.

When it comes to Victorian England it’s hard to imagine a detective with more fame, quirks and intensity than Sherlock Holmes. He’s often called in by Scotland Yard to help them solve the more baffling crimes that cross their desk, when he isn’t employed by private interests. For years, assistance has come to Holmes in the person of John Watson, an Army veteran and skilled doctor. However, Watson is intending to get married which means he’ll be moving out of their shared living quarters on 221B Baker Street. Holmes is, for his part, unhappy with this situation and thus begins acting out, until the perpetrator of the last case on which the men worked, one Lord Blackwood, apparently rises from the dead. If there’s anybody from London that can figure out how this resurrection worked, it’s Sherlock Holmes.

Then again, neither Encyclopedia Brown nor Nancy Drew had been born yet. The main plot of Sherlock Holmes isn’t really all that mysterious. There’s no real cunning at work that Dan Brown couldn’t cook up to sell a few more novels that have readers picturing Tom Hanks in a hilarious mullet. It isn’t necessarily bad writing, as the facts do come together relatively well without major plot holes. If you pay attention, you can see what’s really going on even as people are bandying about words like “the dark arts” and “sacred order” as if Voldemort’s about to show up. (Wow, I am really going for a high score of pop culture references, aren’t I?)

Courtesy Warner Bros.
The definition of bromance.

Now, if that was where the film stopped, just at the not-so-mysterious mystery plot, I’d pass it up. But it gives us something great wrapped around this somewhat mediocre story. Robert Downey Jr. is, to be honest, the sort of Holmes I always envisioned Holmes as being. Now, I’ve enjoyed the portrayal of the legendary detective by the likes of Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett, but this disheveled, twitchy, slightly neurotic and way too brilliant for his own good Holmes really strikes a chord with me. Brilliance and madness are separated by only the thinnest of lines, and while past Holmes often play with that division, Downey dances across that line with a sense of abandon that’s a joy to behold. He’s not quite as great as Hugh Laurie’s Doctor House, but he’s pretty damn close.

Over and above Downey’s performance is that of Jude Law as Watson. A lot of people who’ve gotten hold of Doyle’s material seem to think that Holmes should always be the brilliant one and Watson should only play second fiddle, being two steps behind Holmes or so rotund he has trouble keeping up. Guy Ritchie and the writers chuck those previous notions out the window, embracing Watson as an equal to Holmes, not just a straight man to the main act. Again, someone’s been watching episodes of House, since this Watson, which may be the best I’ve ever seen, strikes a resemblance with that mad doctor’s long-suffering best friend, Wilson. Together, Downey and Law have fantastic chemistry that makes the B-plot of Watson’s upcoming marriage every bit as engaging as the arcane conspiracy A-plot tries to be.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
“Join me, Holmes, and I’ll make you forget all about Watson. We’ll be together every night.”
“…Blackwood, are you asking me out?”

On top of the two leading men are multiple things for Sherlockians to enjoy. There’s a lot of references to things mentioned even in passing within the pages of Doyle’s 56 short stories and 4 novels featuring Holmes. From a certain bullet pattern to Holmes’ substance abuse, if you pay attention you’ll be able to draw all sorts of parallels and point to where these references are rooted. A reference that requires no research is the presence of Irene Adler, played delightfully by Rachel McAdams. Mentioned in one story as a woman that bested Holmes at his own game, Adler has grown to rather gargantuan proportions in later fan works. The notion that Holmes would occasionally box is ramped up to give the film more action, and a gadget fixation that was tangential at best allows some of the technology of the Victorian era that inspired the steampunk movement to appear along side the two-fisted adventuring and witty banter. None of this is bad, per se, but it does feel at times like a bit of pandering.

The interesting thing is, none of these elements that I’ve taken shots at really stop the film from holding up as a well-paced period adventure. Sherlock Holmes works, and I was entertained pretty much from start to finish. If the mystery had been a little bit more clever I would be tempted to consider it a must-buy. As it is, it’s definitely worth a rental before you decide to buy it. I’m definitely curious to watch it again to see if there are more Doyle references I missed the first time. There’s also the fact I watched it without my wife and she’s going to love this Holmes.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
“Blackwood came on to me, if you can believe that.”
“I can indeed. You do look like Tony Stark.”
“…Who?”

In closing, I can’t help but feel like Guy Ritchie cribbed a few notes from Christopher Nolan. Yeah, I know, more pop culture references incoming, but stick with me. At the end of Batman Begins, Gordon hands the Caped Crusader a particular playing card. Guess who showed up in The Dark Knight and pretty much walked away with the whole damn picture? Now, I’m not saying that the similar mention made in Sherlock Holmes is going to result in a similar outcome, but I’ve heard the likes of Chrisoph Waltz and Daniel Day-Lewis are up for the part in question. I think we’ll be finding out next year, and I’ll be trying really hard not to get my hopes up. With a Holmes and Watson this good, could we please have a villain worthy of their abilities that doesn’t come off as over-the-top or campy? Can we please have a sequel to a film based on one of the foundational works responsible for my interest in fiction that works as well as The Two Towers did in relation to Fellowship of the Ring? Guy Ritchie, if you read or hear this, mate, would you please make sure the sequel to Sherlock Holmes doesn’t suck?

Please?

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! The Hangover

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Crazy nights and weekends are the stuff modern legends are made of. They do things like deprive you of money, give you interesting hickeys, or keep you from posting a regular blog feature on time. Most of the time, though, you at least have the benefit of remembering how you got into a situation where you need to delay a car payment or explain to your significant other the lipstick on your collar. Or shorts. The three gentlemen at the center of The Hangover, however, don’t have that luxury. The more they discover about the best night of their lives that they can’t remember, the more the audience discovers how surprisingly and raucously funny this movie is.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
Normally I’d put the poster here, but I like this shot a lot more and it’s basically the same thing.

The set-up goes something like this: Doug is about to get married. His best man, a schoolteacher named Phil, is taking him to Las Vegas for his bachelor party. Along for the ride are mutual friend & dentist Stu, who is taking the opportunity to escape his shrew of a girlfriend for at least a few hours, and Doug’s brother-in-law-to-be, Alan, a character that can be most charitably described as “quirky.” Upon arriving in Vegas and changing for the night out, Phil takes the group to the roof, toasts with Jagermeister and says that no matter what happens, as far as anybody outside of the four of them are concerned, it didn’t happen. The next morning, Phil, Stu and Alan wake to find their hotel suite a wreck, a chicken wandering in the sitting room, a tiger in the bathroom and a baby in the closet. None of them can remember a thing. Stu’s lost a tooth, Alan’s lost his pants, and worst of all, Phil has lost Doug.

MovieBob has gone on record to say that good comedy is pretty much “review-proof.” You can’t talk at length about the movie’s nuances or artifice without giving away some of the humor and thus diluting the overall experience. Now, granted, Bob was talking about Hot Tub Time Machine which I saw the same night as The Hangover. In my opinion, Hot Tub is good (better than Grandma’s Boy to be sure) but The Hangover is exemplary. Why? Because while I was watching it, when I recovered from the latest fit of laughter, I found myself thinking, “Wow! Somebody actually bothered to write this damn thing!

Courtesy Warner Bros.
The chicken has all of the answers. Shame it can’t talk.

Now, not all comedy required a coherent or even realistic narrative through-line. What The Hangover does just as well as its jokes is show us what can be done when a comedy has a coherent, realistic narrative through-line. As the story unfolds, the film reveals itself not just as a good adult male bonding comedy but also something of a mystery story. And while this is a comedy, it’s not a shallow, easy-to-solve mystery that the Scooby-Doo gang could’ve knocked out. The characters need to piece together what happened over the course of that wild Vegas night, or the bride patiently preparing for the biggest day of her life won’t have a groom to marry. The film’s aware of the ticking clock and makes us aware of it, too, but not in such a way that it becomes too serious or overshadows the laugh. It’s a well-written, well-balanced and very funny script.

Now, it’s not a script that’s terribly original, outside of the ‘we don’t remember what the hell happened last night’ hook. And the characters are pretty stock – Phil’s the cool guy, Stu’s the henpecked guy, and Alan’s just plain weird. Yeah, they’re going to learn lessons about their lives in the midst of their caper, nothing new there. But what works is the fact that these characters, standard fare they may be, are presented with pretty straight-faced aplomb by the leads. Bradley Cooper in particular as Phil carries a lot of the movie, often being the voice of reason just moments after being the smirking handsome enabler of his less-fortunate friends. It’s the kind of thing you’d typically see Bill Murray or Vince Vaughn doing, but Cooper does it very well. Jeffrey Tambor and Heather Graham really shine as well in their supporting roles. The father-in-law character being understanding surprised me, and while the hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold did not, Heather’s still a great actress.

Courtesy Warner Bros.
Alan looks a bit like a Jewish gangster in this shot, if you ask me.

I’m running out of things I can discuss without spoiling some very funny jokes, so here’s the last major point I’ll make: one thing that makes The Hangover work so well is a lack of contrivance. With a couple of exceptions, everything that happens in the movie does happen for a reason that makes sense. The presence of the tiger in the bathroom, the car that arrives when the guys hand in their valet ticket, the contents of the Mercedes’ trunk – none of it is resolved in a snap-of-the-fingers kind of way. There’s never a wink at the audience that lesser screenwriters would use to smooth over rough spots in the script.

This isn’t to say that The Hangover is free of flaws. There is a level of predictability to some of the situations, but the ones you don’t see coming will surprise you. The three leads are characters you’ve seen before, sure. But there are other characters and a well-hyped cameo that are surprises in and of themselves. A good joke that’s told well with the right timing is every bit as funny as it is when you first hear it. The Hangover does those jokes very well, and I was surprised at how much I liked it.

If you haven’t seen it already, do so. If you have, it might be worth watching again, especially with some friends who might not have had the privilege. When you do get the DVD from Netflix, though, can someone please tell me why the only difference between a theatrical release and an “unrated version” is a drastically increased amount of hairy man-ass?

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Total Recall

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[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/totalrecall.mp3]

Philip K. Dick is what I would consider a luminary of the genre of science-fiction. He wrote quite a few stories that dealt with concepts like free will, identity and the nature of drug abuse. Somewhere between the adaptation of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? that became the sci-fi classic Blade Runner, and the adaptation of The Minority Report that became… well, Minority Report, we have a little story called We Can Remember It For You Wholesale. The story had, as its themes, the nature of memory, the blurring of the borders between fantasy and reality in our minds, and Mars. Some of these themes survived the adaptation process to appear in the film Total Recall, and while the movie isn’t quite the visionary and atmospheric masterpiece of Blade Runner, it at least doesn’t take its premise in entirely the wrong direction, like Minority Report does.

Courtesy Carolco International

Arnold Schwartzenegger is Douglas Quaid, a mild-mannered construction worker who dreams of something more, specifically the recently colonized Mars. He can’t afford to take his hot blonde wife on vacation, however, and while she seems content to stay home and lavish him with attention, he can’t help longing for something more. He eventually seeks out a company called Rekall, that offers him the vacation of a lifetime in his head – he can go to Mars, be anybody he wants, do just about anything. He chooses the false memories that cast him as a secret agent. However, the doctors find he’s already undergone a memory replacement procedure, and suddenly our inexplicably built hero is fighting to get free from the facility screaming at the doctors for blowing his cover. They fix up the damage, but it’s too late: Quaid has realized that he is, in fact, a deep cover secret agent who is either working for the evil mining conglomerate that controls Mars or carrying the key to Mars’ liberation. Or is he?

Total Recall was directed by Paul Verhoeven, who brought us Starship Troopers and the truly excellent RoboCop. I’ve heard his World War II Jewish vengeance flick Black Book is up there with these films, and it’s on my queue somewhere. Anyway, when you go into a Verhoeven entry, you can expect gratuitous bloody violence, shameless sex appeal that borders on exploitation, undercurrents of social commentary that are both pointed and hilarious, or a combination of all of the above. Sometimes, this doesn’t work when the elements are weighted too much on one side (*cough*Showgirls*cough*), but Total Recall is an example of the Verhoeven formula working, and working well. It’s not quite as effective as RoboCop, nor does the undercurrent buoy up the rest of the film as it does in Starship Troopers, but it still makes for surprisingly good entertainment.

Courtesy Carolco International
“Wait… you want me to put this where?”

Arnold can get ragged on from time to time for some of his performances. I for one am still slightly traumatized by Batman & Robin. But his particular brand of on-screen presence works well in Total Recall. He’s not an overt badass, like his character in Predator, nor is he the cold, detached and utterly unstoppable Terminator. Douglas Quaid is, for all intents and purposes, an innocent man, completely blindsided by the turn of events that has him on the run from covert operatives and trying to get his ass to Mars. His confusion and attempts to go with the flow of events rather than glowering or brooding make him far more sympathetic and engages the audience surprisingly well. In spite of all of the violence and special effects in this space rock opera, the affair is held together by an element that’s surprisingly human.

I call Total Recall a “space rock opera” because it doesn’t have the gravitas of a genuine space opera like the original unadulterated Star Wars. Its tone, when it isn’t trying to mess around in your head, is decidedly more Flash Gordon than 2001. The bad guys never seem to hit the good guys with their fully automatic weapons, industrial mining equipment is easily re-purposed as death machines and on a world of mutations, space hookers tend to get ‘helpful’ enhancements like an extra breast. It’s definitely more science fantasy than science fiction, and while that does lead to minor issues later, for the most part it works as an engine of whimsy and bloodshed to drive the story.

Courtesy Carolco International
“Um… clean up? Aisle 5?”

And for two acts, that story hums along quite well. We’re never completely sure if what’s happening to Doug is really happening or if he’s still strapped to the bed back at Rekall. Hints come along here and there to point in one direction or another, especially towards the end of the second act when a doctor shows up along with Quaid’s wife. That aforementioned expression of somewhat bewildered confusion Arnold wears for most of this adds a bit of necessary weight to the games the story play with the audience’s minds. For the majority of the film, Total Recall seems to be, at least on an intellectual level, trying to be just a touch more than your typical sci-fi shoot-em-up.

Unfortunately, the third act comes down with a nearly terminal case of stupid. Not to give anything away, but the subplot of all of the events possibly being figments of Quaid’s imagination is pretty much dropped and all but the last minute or so of running time are devoted to your typical Arnold action pick-and-mix. There’s a clever little bit with a portable hologram, but other than that you’ve got one-liners, improbable science, the most laughable depiction of decompression I’ve ever seen and endless faceless goons deposited onto the scene straight from the Stormtrooper School of Marksmanship. It just gets a little tedious after a while. I mean, if you’re an Arnold fan, this stuff is candy. Too much of it for me tends to make my teeth hurt.

Courtesy Carolco International
“Playing Mr. Freeze gave me a headache this big.”

Still, Total Recall is like Starship Troopers in more than just classic sci-fi inspiration and themes that transcend the majority of the film’s action. The two films are similar in that the good bits, by and large, outweigh the bad. It’s not without some flaws that will have you laughing out loud or rolling your eyes, but it’s at least got that space rock opera charm in its favor along with the subtle questions on our perception of reality. All in all, it’s a decent ’90s sci-fi action entry whose rough patches are smoothed over with unique story elements rooted in the works of one of the best science fiction writers of our time. Arnold fans, Dick fans and Verhoeven fans should definitely add this to their Netflix queues.

One last note of interest: This film was originally rated X. Verhoeven had to cut the film with some different camera angles and trim some of the violence to get it downgraded to R for general release. It was also one of the last films to use miniatures extensively, instead of relying on CGI. I think that might add to the film’s charm, and let’s face it, CGI might have failed in bringing us things like that triple-breasted hooker. Because let’s face it, that’s what people remember. It’s like remembering the cake scene as the best part of Under Siege. Or thinking of Labyrinth as a movie about David Bowie’s… pants.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

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