Instant Action: The Spirit (2008)

That's a lot of fake CG backdrops for one film!

Screenplay By: Frank Miller
Directed By: Frank Miller

The Spirit is what happens when a man with the maturity of a teenage boy is allowed to make a film. That doesn't guarantee a bad or terrible film, but it can certainly result in a film of very low quality. I stopped caring about Frank Miller as a comic book writer sometime around the late 1990s, when it became all too clear that he had nothing new to say and that he was trapped in an extended adolescence. The same nihilism that infected all of Mr. Miller's comic book writing is present in The Spirit, which is unfortunate since the comic it's based on is a rather hopeful noir.

Now, I don't care much about the fact that Mr. Miller deviated severely from Will Eisner's work, that's fine by me. The problems with The Spirit go well beyond any adaptation issues. It's, simply put, not a well made film. Mr. Miller's version of The Spirit is all too fake and soulless. This is true for both the characters and the look of the film.

Mr. Miller's adopted the look of the Sin City film wholesale, which is fine but he's taken it a step further by making it where the characters aren't able to mesh with the computer backgrounds that surround them. When two characters are standing in the snow and not a single drop of snow falls on either character because the computer program won't allow for it, well that's just a terrible design flaw in the film. That's how The Spirit comes across visually, as one massive design flaw.

The characters in The Spirit can't be described as human, or even too comic book like. Rather, they are robots existing in a computer playground. This may have sounded great on paper, but in realization it leaves a film that is a chore to get through. It's easy to not care about any of the characters in The Spirit because Mr. Miller's plodding and tactless script never gives the viewer a reason to care about said characters. Without characters to care about it leaves the action hollow and empty, same with the story.

There's a scene in The Spirit where for no reason whatsoever Eva Mendes' character lifts the lid up on a copier, sits on the screen, and photocopies her ass. There's no reason for her to do this, it's only in the movie because for Frank Miller women don't matter other than as bodies to be ogled. Come to think of it, there's no reason for much of anything that happens in The Spirit. It's a misguided attempt at bringing a classic comic strip to the big screen. The Spirit should be the nail in the coffin for Frank Miller as a voice in the film world, which is okey dokey by me.

Rating:

3/10

Cheers,
Bill Thompson

Avenger X (1967)

I used to have a small yellow afghan (blanket, not hound).  It would be more accurate to say that my family used to have a small yellow afghan.  It was about two feet by three feet, and it was as plain as an afghan could be.  Its yellow was not brilliant, more like the color of lemonade, maybe a shade deeper.  When it wasn’t covering up sick kids or cold feet, it substituted as the cape to my own personal superhero costume (add one safety pin and go).  It didn’t matter if the color didn’t match whichever character I was playing.  What mattered was that it was just the right size for me at that time.  For me, this is the encapsulation of what made American comic books great when I was a tyke.  They were for kids, and they didn’t make much sense, but they were loaded with imagination, and that counted for a lot.  

On the other hand, my experience with European comics isn’t nearly as extensive, but they tend to be far more mature in content if not necessarily in approach (look at the ultra-popular work of creators like Crepax, Jodorowsky, Manara, et cetera).  But what they also had is an emphasis on criminals (costumed and non) as protagonists.  Everything from Diabolik to Kriminal and back again, these are characters who we in the States would likely read about battling against a superhero like Batman and getting locked up in Arkham Asylum.  Of course, the atmosphere in American comics today has swung closer to this European model, mostly because the readership is generally older than they used to be.  By this I mean that comics were aimed at about an eight to twelve-year-old male readership for many decades, and this audience would turn over and restart, but then more and more readers didn’t stop reading comics.  These older readers then became comics creators, and they consequently started making books for people their own age and so on.  It’s a bit more complex than that, but we’re not here to spend the whole day on this.  I’m just pointing out that there is a cultural difference between American and “World” comics which results in films like Piero Vivarelli’s Avenger X (aka Mister X), for better or worse.

George Lamarr (Armando Calvo) is a CEO and a drug kingpin whose subterfuge is discovered by secretary/sexbomb Veronica (Nieves Salcedo).  When she tells him that she wants him to marry her in order to keep her quiet, she winds up dead, an X stamped in her forehead.  Naturally, Inspector Roux (the gloriously-named Franco Fantasia) recognizes this as the mark of master criminal Mister X (Pier Paolo Capponi), who was believed dead.  Also naturally, the very much alive X takes offense at someone using his modus operandi, and worse, using it incorrectly (he would never stamp his X on a woman’s head).  So, gangsters gotta pay.

Disguises for comic book characters are generally used to hide a secret identity, to protect a character and the people he/she knows who may be hurt by their enemies.  It can be argued whether the costume and the alter ego are one and the same (which they can be, though they almost always behave differently, the amplification of certain personality traits over others being kind of the whole point), whether they are different personae, which one is the “true” self, and which is repressed.  And depending upon the character, you would come up with different interpretations (or even multiple interpretations for any given one).  X does wear a costume from time to time (essentially a knockoff of Lee Falk’s The Phantom with a large “X” on his belt buckle), but it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.  This is because he acts exactly the same in or out of costume.  He changes not at all, plain-clothed or not.  If anything, his comic book costume is merely one more affectation, a way to draw attention to himself rather than to deflect scrutiny.  You can argue that so many of these types of characters are the same way, but somehow it just falls completely flat with this one.  By that same token, X is a master of disguise (like Fantomas, Sherlock Holmes, or Pistachio Disguisey), and he uses these skills to walk among his enemies.  This illustrates for us exactly how he regards his lifestyle, and that is blithely.  He couldn’t care less about the lives of anyone around him (maybe with the exception of squeeze Timy [Gaia Germani]), and further, all of this is little more than a game to him, a lark.  His “good” name gets sullied, and he starts killing people (as well as trying to turn a tidy profit).  

Naturally, this brings up the debate over whether fictional characters need to be likable, and I don’t think they do.  However, they do need to be interesting enough to want to follow, and I think X is not.  He is a poor imitation of Diabolik with none of Diabolik’s more charming attributes.  Diabolik is all but a mute.  X talks constantly and says sweet fuck all.  Diabolik’s plans are clever and engaging.  X barely makes plans at all, his scheming more a hammer than a scalpel.  Diabolik’s haughty attitude is loaded with sexy style.  X’s haughty attitude is loaded with repulsive smarm.  Bearing this in mind, the characters in this film are divided into three social levels.  The working men are represented by characters like Roux, and they are generally dim-witted and gullible, ineffectual and harmless.  The gangsters are lower class, playing at their patrician machinations.  They have lavish, chic parties, and they sit around playing at pulling strings.  But at the drop of a hat, they would turn on one another, and whether this marks them as proletarian or bourgeois is up for discussion (as much as anything in this film can be).  X is the only truly upper class person in the film.  He considers the work of people like Lamarr to be “vulgar.”  He has tea served by a geisha.  He is a world-class golf champion.  He knows that going to Capri in March is out of season and oh-so-common.  Unfortunately, he’s also not nearly as witty as he thinks, and he’s insufferably snobby.  

I blame a lot of the problems with this film on the wretched screenwriting, which apes the genre in which it’s set, but like a voice actor (or any actor, for that matter) who can’t do accents, it winds up just being embarrassing in execution.  For example, it took over twenty minutes of screen time for the first action scene to hit.  It took more than twenty more for the next one.  The plot, such as it is, is little more than a series of plot conveniences, and it follows a flat line rather than the standard peaks and valleys (witness: the intermittent snooping of Roux simply for the sake of being a monkey wrench and sucking up some time).  Likewise, the direction is bland and truly uninspired (like so much else on display here), and the aforementioned action scenes aren’t exciting, period.  Instead of being stylish and sexy like the Bond films it is clearly influenced by, Avenger X manages to be patently unattractive.  How else do you explain a film where the women, played by some genuinely lovely ladies (including the dazzling Helga Line), are treated as nothing more than humdrum arm candy with an emphasis on the fashions they wear rather than on the tease of their disrobing?  The old saw says, “X marks the spot.”  Not so much with this one.

MVT:  X’s costume is the most interesting thing about the film, and considering how weak it is, that ain’t saying much.

Make Or Break:  The break is not a scene.  The break is that the film is loaded with tepid scenes of people lounging, and talking, and swilling booze rather than anything happening for lengthy periods of time.  What you see and what you get are two totally different things with Avenger X.

Score:  4/10

Instant Action: Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010)

I'd never trust a guy in a spandex suit named Robin, but that's just me!

Written By: Judd Winick
Directed By: Brandon Vietti

Watching Batman: Under the Red Hood felt like a breath of fresh air. That's generally the feeling I get any time I watch a well made Batman film that isn't associated with the Christopher Nolan monstrosities. His insipid films, I've only seen the first two entries in his trilogy, have sullied the franchise to an unbelievable extent. It helps that Batman: Under the Red Hood is very well made, but even if it weren't it's different than the soul sucking film from Mr. Nolan and therefore it feels completely fresh. That being said, Batman: Under the Red Hood is a well made film, and that's why it's an enjoyable film to watch.

The story in Batman: Under the Red Hood is interesting, if a bit trite. The old friend comes back to haunt the hero shtick has been done in comic books for years. The question in a film like Batman: Under the Red Hood isn't how original the story is, rather it's how said story is handled. I'm happy to say that the story in Batman: Under the Red Hood has been handled in fine fashion. What the film does to make the story work is to couch so much of it in what exemplifies the Batman character. This isn't a Bruce Wayne story, it's a story of the man under the cowl. We see him be a detective, we get to see his process at work, and we get an almost tangible feel for why he makes the choices that define him as a hero. The destination of Batman: Under the Red Hood was never in doubt, but the journey to get there was interesting throughout.

Filming action scenes sounds like it should be easier in an animated film. The animators have the entire world at their disposal, they need not worry about physical limitations of any sort. The animated form often leads to problems in presenting coherent action. Because of the freedom that the animated form offers the desire is acted upon to do whatever the mind can think of in a scene. Batman: Under the Red Hood avoids such a pitfall by keeping the action well oriented. I was never lost for place or location in Batman: Under the Red Hood. The action made sense, and it ties into the strengths and weaknesses of the characters involved in said action. The action in Batman: Under the Red Hood is easy to follow, but it never comes across as lacking or haphazardly implemented.

Batman: Under the Red Hood is not without its flaws. The dialogue is clunky at times, and does in a few instances feel like it's coming out of a different character's mouth. My main beef was with the character of the Joker, simply put I did not like this version of the Joker. Joker in Batman: Under the Red Hood is too bland, with a performance by John DiMaggio that undercuts the contradiction that is the character of the Joker. Mr. DiMaggio is a great actor, but I'm not sure what he thought he was doing with his version of the Joker. This is probably a lot of personal bias coming into play, but if I don't believe in the Joker as a madman and a depressed funny man, then that's a big problem with a Batman film.

Flawed though it is, I still enjoyed Batman: Under the Red Hood. The folks at DC Animation are doing fine work in the superhero realm. Batman: Under the Red Hood is a well constructed action film that tells an interesting tale. The Joker isn't handled all that well, and the dialogue takes too many shortcuts. Still, I had fun watching Batman: Under the Red Hood. I appreciated the crispness of the animation and the adult themes that Brandon Vietti's film was willing to take on. If you're looking for a decent Batman yarn there's no reason to not give Batman: Under the Red Hood a spin.

Rating:

7/10

Cheers,
Bill Thompson

Instant Action: Dredd (2012)

I'm not the law, I'm the guy who winds up dead because he's too busy patching up other people!

Screenplay By: Alex Garland
Directed By: Pete Travis

Olivia Thirlby, the character of Anderson, is not the person I expected to open up my review of Dredd with. To say that I was surprised by the way her character was presented would be an understatement. She has a great arc, one that could easily slip under the radar of many a viewer if they weren't paying attention. She begins as the typical rookie, and at some point slips into the role of the helpless woman. Dredd isn't your typical damsel in distress action film, and the way that Anderson responds to being in jeopardy proves as such. Miss Thirlby provides just the right amount of emotion at every stretch of the film. Her emotions and her character arc are very important to the larger picture in Dredd. She is the humanity in the film, and it's important that when she is pushed against a wall she responds. And respond Anderson does, transforming from the damsel in distress into a damn fine ass kicker. The character of Anderson is the most obvious example of how Dredd is more than just a typical action flick.

Dredd gets right to the point and it's a film that never minces its words. This is an action film that goes full throttle from beginning to end. The backstory of the film is given in a very matter of fact fashion, and the film never stops to enter story mode. The reason for this is that Dredd is always in story mode. The action in Dredd tells the story, and it keeps the viewer in line with where the film wants to go and what the film wants to say. The audience learns everything they need to learn about Judge Dredd through the way he carries himself during the action of the film. It's not that Dredd doesn't have a story to tell, it's simply that in a neat twist Dredd chooses to tell its story through its action instead of padding out the run time of the film with needless exposition.

At first I was irked by the visuals in Dredd. The slow motion effect was handled nicely, but I wasn't sure about the almost neon like blood. The first few times it took me out of the film and made me question what I was watching. I stuck with the film and over time the visuals of blood letting took on a different label in my mind. They were no longer irksome, but they were stylish in a way that gave the film energy. Being based on a comic book the way the slow motion visuals, and blood work, are handled is very reminiscent of said comic book roots. The visuals are splashy, and a tad gaudy, but they are very clean and let the viewer know exactly what is happening at every turn. Dredd isn't a film about trickery, the visual style of the film isn't intended to trick but to pay homage to the brighter world of comic books.

I would be remiss if I didn't bring up Serbuan maut in my review of Dredd. I know this is a touchy point for some people, but for my money the connection is an obvious one. Both films are about the adrenaline of action, and are very similar plot wise. The key differences come into play in the way that each film handles its story and its lead character. The story in Serbuan Maut is not a good one, and while the action is marvelous enough to overcome its lackluster story the film is ultimately hurt by said story. The story in Dredd is a strength of the film because as I stated above the action in Dredd tells the story and thus the film doesn't rely on any cliched dramatic beats within the story. The hero in Serbuan maut is a hero, the same is not true for Judge Dredd. He is an avenging figure, and almost machine like in his drive to dispense justice. We see at the end that he is human, but he's still a killing machine and that is the main function he serves during the film. The connection is present between Dredd and Serbuan maut, but each are their own film and are great for different reasons.

A couple of years ago I was one of the few people lamenting the nature of the modern action film. Films like The Bourne Ultimatum and Transformers were prime examples of what was wrong in action cinema. My tune has changed to the point where in 2013 I'm convinced action cinema is in the middle of a renaissance. The big budget blockbusters have been getting it right more than they have wrong when it comes to action cinema. A film like Dredd is a clear sign of a return to form for action cinema. The editing in Dredd is fluid and the action is easy to follow. Most of all, the action in Dredd makes great use of spatial relations and character placement. I hope more people discover Dredd, because this is action cinema that the film community needs to support. Movies like Serbuan maut, Pacific Rim, The Avengers, and Dredd show that action cinema in the 2010s is making a comeback, and it's a comeback I welcome with open arms.

Rating:

10/10

Cheers,
Bill

Zuma (1985)

Just recently, the ruins of a temple were discovered at the El Paraíso site in Peru, and they are estimated to be about five thousand years old.  This is no real great shakes, since (to my knowledge) Peru is rife with ancient ruins (no offense to any Peruvians who may be reading).  What this story does do, however, is brings up the idea that archaeology is still important in this modern world.  In an era when we have (or think we have) all this knowledge at the touch of a button (and we won’t get into a discussion about the unreliability of information on the internet this time around), there are still people kneeling under the hot sun, slowly scraping bits of dirt from long-forgotten relics of dead civilizations in the pursuit of some insight into how we became what we are.  

Real archaeologists toil away at tasks which are almost the equivalent of trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon, yet in films, this tedious, nigh-thankless profession is romanticized to an insane degree.  When cinematic relic-diggers aren’t raiding lost arks or going on wild crusades, they are excavating ancient monsters that revive, and only their quick wits and iron wherewithal can return these beasties to their graves.  Naturally, we can argue that just about every profession can be (and probably has been) glamorized on film to some degree, and I’m sure that, while real archaeologists love the attention films like Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom bring to their avocation, they’re also sick to death of having to answer questions from goofs in regards to the existence and “actual” properties of quasi-mystical objects.  Then again, I’m not an archaeologist, so maybe they’re not. 

Phillip (Mark Gil) and Isabel (Dang Cecilio) are archaeologists who have just uncovered a remarkably pristine temple in the side of a mountain.  As the men peregrinate around, Isabel is drawn to a secret room, inside which is a large sarcophagus.  As she paces closer to the tomb, a pair of large rubber snakes appear from inside, scaring the bejeezus out of the poor lady.  When the men investigate, however, the tomb is empty.  Meanwhile, a bunch of dead bodies are found outside the site with lethal amounts of venom in them.  Soon thereafter, the eponymous Zuma (Max Laurel, who looks vaguely like Milton Reid of Dr. Phibes Rises Again fame) stalks the streets of the Philippines, hungering for the hearts of virgin women.

It would seem that I have inadvertently been on a bit of a comic book adaptation jag as of late, because Jun Raquiza’s Zuma (aka Jim Fernandez’s Zuma) is yet another one.  One thing which I have seen far more of from countries other than the United States is a predilection for comic book stories centering on characters that could just as easily be called villains as anti-heroes.  This is no exception.  Zuma is the son of the Mayan god Kukulkan, the feathered serpent, and his whole schtick is violating and killing female virgins.  Early on in the film, he rapes Galela (Raquel Montesa) while her boyfriend Joseph (Mark Joseph) is bitten to death by cobras.  Galela then becomes the thrall of Zuma (sort of like a distaff Renfield), trapping women for him to kill.  Zuma resembles a Filipino version of the Incredible Hulk with a double-headed snake growing out of the back of his neck.  But unlike the Hulk, who would typically do some good intentionally or not, Zuma’s purpose is to rack up virgin corpses to “fulfill the rituals of his faith,” though to what end the audience is never privy.  We would expect some attempt to humanize Zuma (even Diabolik had Eva Kant), but he’s little more than animated brute force, although I would be hesitant to call him an elemental force.  Even after Zuma’s daughter Galema (Snooky Serna, who, God help me, actually looks a little bit like Snooki Polizzi) turns up, Zuma would kill her as soon as have her live with him.  Like Rawhead Rex and other reborn Elder Gods, Zuma’s needs are not human, ergo his actions are never other than inhumane. 

Sex plays a large part in the film, yet its treatment is quasi-puritanical.  The characters that have sex in the film are never shown naked having sex.  Nevertheless, the women who become Zuma’s prey often have their tops ripped off for a cheap tit thrill.  It’s incongruous, but interesting to note that nudity is only depicted in regards to violent acts against women.  The image of a snake is phallocentric to begin with, and the fact that Zuma has two rather large snake heads hanging off his shoulders is telling.  What’s more, his snakes are usually alert and pointing straight out, an indication of tumescence and the faint notion that Zuma’s actions are guided by his loins (and being the scion of a “War Serpent” only adds to the idea of violence making up for sexual inadequacies).  Galema also has snakes like her father (cleverly woven into her pigtails), but she has trouble controlling them.  Her life has been dictated by the influence of these phallic appendages, and they have kept her docile up until her nineteenth birthday.  She is also a virgin, but it’s through the love of Morgan the young soldier (Rey Abellana) that she will become their master.  So, even in its strongest female character, the film is controlled by male influences and all that that entails.

But for as much insanity as Raquiza and company put onscreen, Zuma is a bit of a slog from a pacing standpoint.  At over two hours and ten minutes long, there is a ton of fat that could have (and should have) been trimmed.  Whole sequences pass by where characters literally do absolutely nothing and then suddenly act.  My best guess is that this is the result of its comic book origins, because the plot feels much less like one story than it does a stringing together of multiple episodes with one set of credits on either end.  As soon as any part of a story (I won’t say “the” story, due to the variegated nature at play here) gets interesting, the film’s gears are swiftly shifted (you can almost hear the filmmakers grindin’ ‘em ‘til they’re findin’ ‘em), and the audience is back at square one.  All well and good, but with each shift, there is a new set-up and build up, and it makes the going difficult.  Add to all of this, a deus ex machina that makes practically everything that came before irrelevant, and you have one hot mess of a film.  All of that said, I still found myself liking this movie, largely because it is so much larger than life and so incomprehensible.  It’s like examining a car crash photo and not quite being able to make out what exactly you’re looking at.  But you just can’t stop yourself from staring, can you? 

MVT:  As Forrest Gump might say, “Zuma is as Zuma does.”  Let’s face it; if Zuma wasn’t as visually bizarre as he is, it would be tough justifying watching all two-plus hours of this film.  A giant green man, in a shiny red loincloth, with giant snakes on his shoulders?  Color me intrigued.

Make Or Break:  The Make is the scene where Zuma has his way with Galela.  It’s outlandish on its face, but it also manages to be sleazy and creepy, and it depicts the sort of menace Zuma could have been throughout the film but never fully is. 

Score:  6.25/10