Damned as the third and most inert installment of an already stretched out film adaptation of a novel barely as thick as a pamphlet, Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies (C-) is the uninvolving conclusion of a most perfunctory trilogy. Coming alive only in an epic dragon village battle and an inventive swordfight atop a sheet of lake ice, the film contains beautifully rendered special effects but doesn’t connect in terms of emotion or storytelling. You’re left to reflect on lingering questions: Was Martin Freeman even the least bit compelling as a protagonist? Was Lee Pace’s elf character the spitting image of Chloë Sevigny with resting bitch face? Was it a cost saving measure to introduce virtually zero new worlds or landscapes? And maybe the dwarves singing in the first installment weren’t really the series’ low point? With the biggest threat in the trilogy slayed in the prologue, what was a post-Smaug epic intended to accomplish? The film’s central fight over the treasures in the mountain is prolonged into about a hundred mini-fights that we’ve definitely seen before in this milieu. This isn’t the worst movie prequel about trade negotiations, but it may wear a lamentable crown of being altogether unnecessary. Perhaps now that he’s milked all the funds from this cash cow of diminishing curds, Jackson can dream up something different and return one day as a king of imaginative moviemaking.
“John Wick” a Stylish Revenge Film
Chad Stahelski and David Leitch’s John Wick (B-) is an exercise in being single-minded of purpose and being pretty successful at it. Keanu Reeves plays the titular hitman whose loss of a loved one triggers a return into an underbelly of crime as he exacts all-out revenge. The co-directors, clearly inspired by anime and martial arts films, bring out the best in their feng shui fighter with the ultimate Reeves performance. Michael Nyqvist and Alfie Allen are delicious villains. The action sequences are solid and the mood and colors of the crime dens are lovingly lit like pages of a graphic novel. Willem Dafoe, Ian McShane and John Leguizamo are among the supporting cast, adding additional pedigree to the killing spree. It doesn’t add up to much, but it’s a good time.
“Jupiter Ascending” a Bore to the Planet Core
The Wachowskis’ Jupiter Ascending (D+) commits the biggest sin in the movie universe: it was a bore to the planet core. Cribbing elements from Dune, Flash Gordon and others in the space opera milieu, this talky tale of an Earthling (Mila Kunis) who gets engulfed in a galactic struggle with a campy villain (Eddie Redmayne) and wrapped up in a forbidden romance with a wolf-eared servant on flying sneakers (Channing Tatum) is lumbering and uninspired.
Damien Chazelle’s “Whiplash” a Showcase for Amazing Performances
I suppose Mr. Holland would never forge his opus or dead poets their society without a little creative inspiration. Writer/director Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash (B+) supposes that great art comes from a relentless push from both oneself and some other outside force. The film starts with an aggressive, percussive beat in a lonely hall and ends with nearly the same in a concert hall, but the film’s young jazz drummer protagonist, brilliantly played by Miles Teller, is not the same man from beat to beat. Under the tutelage of a maniacal perfectionist with the draconian stylings of an unhinged drill sergeant – the performance of a lifetime by J.K. Simmons – Teller’s promising artist learns to hone his craft through a ridiculously escalating series of Herculean obstacles. Chazelle and his powerhouse lead actors never let up in this powder-keg of obsession, filled with unexpected grace notes. The authenticity of the film’s merciless NYC music school and the close-ups of blood, sweat and tears required to make great jazz add to the film’s somber and occasionally off-kilter tone. While there are character details that get somewhat short shrift, the movie is largely an absorbing riff and an often riveting tight-wire act. Mostly, it’s a stunning showcase for fine acting.
“Nightcrawler” is Engrossing
Equal parts drama, thriller and dark comedy, Dan Gilroy’s Nightcrawler (A) is a spectacular indictment of bloodthirsty mass media. A loner played by Jake Gyllenhaal exploits the “if it bleeds, it leads” culture of TV news to become a stringer for a struggling L.A. news channel and manipulates everything in his path from his equally nomadic assistant (Riz Ahmed) to a washed-up producer (Rene Russo) to feed his nocturnal obsession. Gyllenhaal is brilliant as a mash-up of Max Headroom and Mitt Romney, taking to the streets to document crime as soon as it happens – or is it the other way around? It’s a tour de force filled with the robotic glee of a man seemingly birthed by Wikipedia and an online business class module. Gilroy evokes Network and Taxi Driver while fashioning an ultra-chic West Coast dystopia steeped in a culture accustomed to get what it wants at any cost. The fact that the film’s protagonist is so creepy and unpredictable makes it all the more watchable. Kudos to Russo as well who is part desperate foil and part accomplice in an unholy alliance. This will be a film discussed for years to come.
“Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part I” Milks Formula for More
It’s becoming abundantly clear that Jennifer Lawrence’s protagonist is much more interesting as a fighting archer than a reluctant war propagandist, but the protracted franchise must march on to rebellion and more box office receipts. Francis Lawrence’s The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part I (C-) is one of those creaky transitional episodes in which much is promised for a grand finale, but not much actually happens within the actual film. Given the blank line readings by all involved, it could easily be Attack of the Drones: Julianne Moore, Donald Sutherland and Woody Harrelson are not immune to the film’s reverse-trackerjack of deadly dialogue. The film’s final act, which is ostensibly the middle stuff of a drawn-out two-part treatment of one book, enlivens a bit, with some legitimate battles and even a mildly pleasant honkeytonk number delivered by Miss Katniss to break up the talky treacle. Largely missing are the futuristic flourishes, sinister surprises or even tender touches that marked the series’ earlier installments. Josh Hutcherson gets scant screen time as the series’ inexplicable love interest, and Liam Hemsworth might as well be a hologram given how little our heroine regards his flesh and blood series of manly sacrifices for her (lil’ bro of People Magazine‘s cover-hunk just can’t get past first base). It’s telling that one of the plot points revolves around Jennifer Lawrence’s heroine being an unconvincing actress and needing to improv a bit in real-life dramatic situations to make her rebellion propaganda seem authentic. Perhaps that capable A-list acting will come in Part 4, er, Part II. Most of what happens in this subpar story could have been summed up in a quick prologue to the finale.
“Theory of Everything” Exquisite and Unconventional
James Marsh’s The Theory of Everything (A-) is the unconventional true love story of Stephen and Jane Hawking, portrayed indelibly by Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones and based on Jane’s memoirs. While bound by the confines of the biopic structure, the film illuminates grand themes of unconditional love, the limits of sacrifice and one’s place in the universe. As Professor Hawking, Redmayne is charming and beguiling and showcases the effects of a neurological degenerative disorder with spectacular realism; he is never an object of sympathy as he continually confounds the odds. Jones has a demanding role of her own right as lover and caretaker, trying to bring order to a life spiraling out of control, and she embodies the role with fierce fortitude. Charlie Cox is also a standout as a family friend with his own designs on the couple’s brief history of time. Marsh photographs the film lushly and embues the characters with realism and humanity. Although the story doesn’t fully plumb the depths of the scientific side of Hawking’s career, it shares a far more unexpected and cinematic slice of his life.
Nolan’s “Interstellar” is Riveting
Christopher Nolan’s ambition exceeds his reach in the often glorious and dizzyingly satisfying outer space adventure Interstellar (B+). Matthew McConaughey valiantly anchors the film as a widowed father and retired pilot living on a midwest farm who gets activated into a journey to find an inhabitable planet for the future of the human race. The stakes couldn’t be higher, setting the stage for epic human emotion and a plot that operates on a dual time continuum of earth and a place beyond the stars, not all that unlike the director’s Inception in which the latter realm was the dreamscape. Michael Caine, Wes Bentley, John Lithgow and David Gyasi are among a very effective ensemble bringing credibility to an often arcane and sometimes pondrous story. In contrast, Anne Hathaway and Jessica Chastain inhabit somewhat problematic characters with odd intentions and impenetrable subplots, respectively. The film’s first and second act are near perfection both visually and thematically, and the final act just can’t sustain the sense of wonder. Still, the early earthbound segments have the heft of Steinbeck by way of Spielberg, and the bulk of the outer space sequences glisten with the majesty of Herbert by way of Kubrick. The film’s heady mix of science and mental puzzles is infinitely resonant and adds up to a near-masterpiece. But as the space dust settles, there are inconsistencies, unexplained motivations and other overlong passages that reflect missed opportunities. Overall, an intriguing premise, fine acting, an engaging story and incredible technology effects put this film in hyperdrive against any others in its category and make for a splendid voyage of mind-boggling proportions.
“Big Hero 6” Often Amusing
Don Hall and Chris Williams’ animated adventure Big Hero 6 (B-) is a triumph of style over substance, with an amazing hybrid metropolis imagined as a cross between San Francisco and Tokyo and a Marvel comic inspired origin story about a sextet of superheroes. There’s an Iron Giant-style central relationship between boy and gentle robot that provides much of the film’s comic and emotional heft, and there’s a sinister scientific subplot that propels the rise of a super villain. The characters are out of central casting, and there’s no breakout voice talent, prompting the most joyous parts to be the chase sequences through the cool cityscapes. The story is rather routine, down to the training montages and climactic showdown. Really, this is all about the action and the visual spectacle, and those elements are grandiose. It’s startlingly original for a Disney film but not that trailblazing otherwise.
“Birdman” is Style Over Substance
First things first, Alejandro González Iñárritu’s tragicomic backstage character drama Birdman (B) is often brilliantly bonkers, and Michael Keaton gives a command performance at the film’s core as a fading Hollywood film star trying to reinvent himself on Broadway while suffering an all-out mental breakdown. With long tracking shots through claustrophobic corridors, a percussive jazz score rat-tat-tatting through the spiraling series of devolving events and tidbits of comic book flourish and fantasy that would be at home in a Terry Gilliam film, this dark delving into the damaged psyche of a thespian on the brink of obscurity pounds its themes with a bit too much prescience. The film comes most alive in its moments of inspired mania that spring from real-life conflicts such as dealing with harsh critics and handling acting egos with kid gloves. Quite frankly, supporting performances by Ed Norton as an obnoxious actor in the on-stage drama and Emma Stone as Keaton’s real-life daughter steal the show a bit with audacious turns of their own. Stone gets a great soliloquy encapsulating the essence of modern-day relevance. The film is a brittle amalgam of too many themes boiling in one big pot; but its insider’s take on exorcising one’s demons, conquering the temptations of fame and reconciling the notions of love and admiration is likely to appeal to artists’ temperaments more than the mainstream. It’s a treat to see Keaton get to sink his teeth into such a flight-of-fancy performance, and both West Coast and East Coast entertainment industries get their share of skewering in this uneven but often shrewd satire.
“Pride” (2014) an Inspiring Tale of Community
Matthew Warchus’s Pride (B-) is a delightful true story about a group of London-based gay and lesbian activists who raise money for families affected by the British miners’ strike in 1984. When the national union passes on their support, the activists take their donations directly to a small mining village in Wales, resulting in an alliance between the two oppressed communities and of course a bit of fish-out-of-water culture clashes. Many popular British stars are on hand, with Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton and Dominic West providing some familiar faces for the festivities. But it is Ben Schnetzer as the ringleader and Georgia MacKay as the reluctant hero who shine in central roles. The same formula that worked for Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, The Full Monty and countless others works for the most part here. The period detail is a highlight, and the film is a stirring tribute to outcast communities banding together. The film could have had a bit more meat on its bones to sustain the final reel, and you can see many of the conflicts from a mile away, but it’s a good-hearted romp and a nice surprising history lesson to boot.
Luc Besson’s “Lucy” Languishes
Luc Besson’s Lucy (C-) has momentum and drive and a super-cool premise; it just doesn’t really know where to start or end. The film theorizes that if people could harness one hundred percent of the potential that lies in the human brain, they would be omniscient, omnipresent and a little nuts. As the titular character, Scarlett Johansson has to singlehandedly carry a lot of the film’s far-fetched notions on her slim shoulders as she’s made an unwitting drug mule for a substance that allows the mind to be used to full capacity. Her backstory is uninvolving, and her quest is never really properly revealed. She’s seemingly on a race against time to beat Besson’s incessant title cards that keep showing the percentage of her brain that are now in full effect. Stock mobster characters and a ponderous Morgan Freeman as a university scientist studying this very phenomenon seem to be the most obligatory of elements in the film. Some of the action and effects are pretty nifty; some are even mildly mind-blowing. But with the brain all revved up with no place to go, it’s a pretty spectacular letdown to find the film isn’t half as smart as it thinks it is. 60%?