THE CONJURING

Dear Mark Meyers, Camera Operator,

This has been an exhausting few months, Mark. The heat. The humidity. The relentless and ruthless and utterly inhuman Hollywood spectacle. Indeed, the summer of 2013 may to prove to be a tipping point for popular cinema. The same way that the summer of ‘76 ushered in the era of the summer blockbuster, the summer of ’13 may very well prove to be the ignominious end of the summer blockbuster.  

So what a relief, in the middle of July, to see a movie that earns the discomfort of the audience—an effective, affecting, well-made horror flick.

The Conjuring isn’t a great film. It doesn’t do anything new. As it coasts along, the ticking-off of genre tropes feels almost self-conscious: the dog that refuses to enter the house, the precocious children preyed upon by unseen spirits, the creepy atonal music box, the flocks of kamikaze birds, and, most tired of all, the stringy-haired ghoul in a white nightdress crouched and crawling and pouncing.

But I found all that sameness easy to forgive. Ultimately, The Conjuring is an exercise in craft. As computer-generated imagery makes it possible for filmmakers to show us anything, and as that lack of boundaries continues to coopt the language of film, director James Wan, by demonstrating a concern for things like spatial logic and sequential clarity, feels like he’s time-travelled to the present from a simpler, more comprehensible past. Sure, Wan operates in a strange tonal space (the bright-eyed earnestness of the ghost-hunters played by Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson, even as they spit out their absurd paranormal lingo, seems to be setting up a joke that never pays off), but he knows, unlike so many contemporary Hollywood filmmakers, how to tell a coherent visual story.

And that’s where you come in, Mark.

 Horror films are all about framing. And Wan’s great gift as a filmmaker is that he’s always pointing you and your camera in the right direction. Much of the tension in The Conjuring comes from our understanding of the way horror movies work, so, when a character is standing at the kitchen sink and the shot is framed to show the darkened window behind him, our attention – consciously or not – is drawn away from the action in the foreground and towards the empty space beyond, a black abyssal rife with possibility.

The danger and unease comes from those empty spaces. And Wan doesn’t abuse them; no, he’s conservative with his scares. There are only five or six in the course of the movie, but the anticipation and trepidation is continuous. You move your camera with purpose, with a stillness and patience that proves visceral feelings isn’t exclusively a product of epileptic cinematography.

The story is all pretty standard stuff: young family moves into creepy house, finds a hidden cellar, doors creak, spirits possess. The cast, here, which, along with Wilson and Farmiga, includes Ron Livingstone and the rather terrific Lili Taylor, feels at times almost too good for the material, which contributes again to that sense of parody that, as the final scenes play out with no double-reverse metatextual trickery, is apparently accidental.

But perhaps it’s all about how you frame it. Right, Mark? All these smugly self-referential, desperately self-serious summer movies I’ve been seeing this summer—maybe I was too busy looking past the action in the foreground to appreciate the simplicity of what was unfolding right in front of my eyes.

 

Sincerely,

Jared Young

3.5/5 (Air Mail)

 

RED 2

Dear Carrie Johnson, Unit Nurse,

The day leading up to seeing RED 2 was a little rough for me. As the day went on, I realized I was coming down with something. It started with a scratchy throat; then  some general achiness. By the time I was heading out to the show, my eyes felt so tired, the notion of watching a movie started to feel like too much effort.

So, first things first: do you know what I might have come down with? Are there any treatments? Should I see someone?

Anyway, where were we? Right, RED 2. I can see why this film needed a unit nurse on it. An action movie with this many stunts and pyrotechnics certainly has ample opportunity for on-set injuries – I mean that in the best sense possible. One of the best things about RED 2 is its old fashioned approach to on-screen action. The ‘old’ may only go as far back as the 1980s, but that’s okay, since that’s most of RED 2’s stars had their heydays. And while the movie deals with the inability to ever escape your past, it also (very marginally) deals with growing older. And with a cast that in large part resembles a retirement home, it couldn’t have hurt to have a full-time nurse on standby.

Bruce Willis and John Malkovich reprise their roles as ex-black ops agents (RED being an acronym for “Retired, Extremely dangerous”), forced back into action when they are framed as the instigators in a plot to detonate an ultra-powerful atomic device for, and end up targeted for the kind of retirement that doesn’t involve rounds of golf or trips to COSTCO. Helen Mirren, Mary Louise Parker, and  Catherine Zeta Jones  are along for the ride as, in order, An ex-MI6 operative, Willis’s current flame, and Willis’s former flame (and KGB femme fatal, naturally). As a group, these actors area lot of fun – not as much fun as the movie thinks they are, but fun nonetheless.

Which is a relief. After this year’s dismal A Good Day to Die Hard, it’s nice to see Willis in a somewhat competent action film. Instead of relying on gimmicky – and trendy – shaky cam cinematography, director Dean Parisot actually seems interested in crafting scenes that make sense spatially and physically. To a point at least. As RED 2  goes along, it becomes more interested in making its cast look cool. Which is a problem.

I was game to hop along for the bumpy ride, even if I didn’t think everything was clicking. I didn’t even mind the liberal borrowing from other, better films (among the films that it lifted from, I noted Charade, The Bourne Identity, The Matrix, and Mission: Impossible: Ghost Protocol), but things started to creak like joints that haven’t been used in a long time. To remedy this, instead of following the advice you might give, to ease into things, use slow, steady progress until you’re ready to run again, RED 2 starts to flail like an over-the-hill jock trying to reclaim his glory with no warm up. By the time Willis and pals are shooting up an embassy in a scene that not only adds nothing to the story, but also has our main characters mowing down what seem to be (from what I could tell) innocent guards doing their job, I was ready to check myself out. That there was 20 minutes left only made things worse. I felt like a patient in the ER  with a recurring injury; I know what’s wrong, I know what the diagnosis will be, but I still have to wait for the on-call doctor to see me so that I can leave.

But to my original point, should I get this flu checked out?

Wishing you had triaged the script,

Casey

Status: Standard Delivery (2.5/5)

Sharknado

Dear Thunder Levin, Writer,

Take me back to the beginning, to that eureka moment when everything clicked. I can’t imagine the euphoria you must have felt knowing your years of ripping off genre films had finally paid off with something original. No more mockbusters of Pacific Rim, Battleship, and zombies-versus-whatever. You must have known this was it—your ticket to the big leagues. You came up with a concept so bold that no major studio would dare touch it. A title so bankable, so compelling, that the script was irrelevant. This threat you invented out of thin air (really thin air) is so twisted that your tombstone will inevitably read: Herein lies the man who gaveth the world its first sharknado. 

That’s right, the first. Because there’s bound to be a tsunami of sequels, spin-offs, and knock-offs.

Oh, the irony.

You may go on to more audacious projects, but it’s doubtful any will be so incompetently made. The piss-poor special effects, the incoherent editing, the completely inconsistent treatment of locations and weather – unfortunately, these low-budget tropes aren’t leveraged for laughs the way I expected. Instead, it feels like the hardworking men and women behind the scenes just weren’t up to the challenge of bringing your ambitious vision to life.  Yet somehow, your genius shines through.

Physics, biology and basic logic have never been so willingly victim to one man’s brilliance. The characters accept sharks raining down from the sky, and frankly, so do we. Really, Thunder—enjoy this moment.

Because you’re bound to attract even bigger stars, but few will look as lost and pathetic as Tara Reid. Worse yet, few will give performances as sincere and irony-free as Ian Ziering’s (he’s really earning his paycheck in earnest). Even Cassie Scerbo’s character – with her oh-so-tragic backstory that you may have, sort of, kind of borrowed from Jaws – is actually, you know, decent. Thank God you found such a novel way to bring her back from certain death. The film’s most fun scene, bar none.

We live in an age of been there, seen that. Nothing’s new anymore. How could anyone ever take the cliché-ridden shark-horror genre to new heights? Somehow, you did it. With your fame-ready name and freaky mind, everything just lined up for the perfect storm, didn’t it?

Sharkcerely,

Christopher

Status: Junk Mail (1/5)

Grown Ups 2

Dear April Rose, Hot Dance Teacher,

I know your character had a name in the film. I heard it. I even tried to remember it, I swear. But I was just so… distracted. Clearly I’m not alone. Even the crack team at IMDb, who seem to capture every production detail of a movie, simply credit you as Hot Dance Teacher.  You have numerous lines of dialogue, a couple of scenes, and even a tender moment with Stone Cold Austin. But in the end, obviously none of that mattered. We were all numbed and pacified by the simple pleasures you provided.  And this, in a nutshell, is the entire strategy of Grown Ups 2.  It’s nothing but non-stop childish, ridiculous, primitive, and – fine, I’ll say it – embarrassingly effective pandering.

Please tell me this doesn’t hurt my chances with you… seeing me as a serious film critic, that is.

Going in, I promised myself not to reward any crotch shots with laughter. No fart joke would be tolerated. Any homophobic stereotypes would meet the wrath of my eventual review. After all, someone has to hold these multi-millionaire knuckleheads accountable, right? The average American moviegoer sure as hell hasn’t. I mean, this is a sequel after all – Hollywood’s definition of success. I somehow avoided the original man-child temper-tantrum that undoubtedly was the first Grown Ups, but was obliged to see this film. And so, at the risk of being completely lost by a complicated plot and evolved character dynamics, I went in cold. Stone cold. Remember, I’m a critic.

Within the first 5 minutes, I wanted to roll my eyes when that deer urinates into Adam Sandler’s gapping mouth. I swore that all this slapstick humour was way beneath me.  And dammit, there was no way that Kevin James’ lame burp-fart-sneeze combo trick could ever win me over, no matter how many times it was repeated (and it’s a lot). I was almost successful on that last one, but I can’t be sure. The packed screening I attended was roaring with so much laughter, I can’t even remember my own response. I succumbed to mob mentality. Apparently, it even applies to comedy; when a movie is this big and the jokes are this broad – and that critical mass is reached – people just can’t help but respond.

Come on, you’re the physical embodiment of big and broad appeal. You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Think of your scene where all these men attend a children’s ballet recital just to oggle you. They feel safety in numbers – not worried someone will call the cops at the lone creeper in the back row. That’s exactly the strange social permission this film banks on. It wedges in ridiculously hot women flaunting their assets every single chance it gets – cheerleader car washes, bikini-clad college parties, ass-slapping yoga classes, etc. But don’t worry kids, and girlfriends, and wives – that’s okay! Because it’s surrounded by “funny”. We’re laughing at how much we love it!  Nothing wrong there.

Then the film is jam packed with friendly faces. Like the Lonely Island crew getting wet and nasty in short-shorts (see! something for the ladies!), or Steve Buschemi as an effeminate driver ed instructor, or Taylor Lautner doing really –like really – impressive action star moves (see! Something ACTUALLY for the ladies!). I wanted to scream at the screen – stop making me smile!

And then the effects. This movie obviously had budget to burn. The effects are actually well done. People slam into things, get shot through the air, roll down hills and are abused in all sorts of ways, but it all looks pretty good. They paid big money for those laughs, and sometimes it actually pays off (the inflatable raft gimmick, in banking terms, is just too big to fail).

So let’s just admit that this film was a perfect fit for you. And America. And maybe even me. If the mood is right. You just have to give it a chance.

Go ahead. Think about it. I’ll be waiting in the back row. 

Christopher

Status: Standard Delivery (3/5)

Pacific Rim

Dear Bradley Allan, Fight Choreographer and Designer,

You, more than anyone, can understand why I thought this would be just like all the other big summer movies I’ve seen lately: a big CGI-slam-bang-action-fest, and a bit of a bummer.  So imagine my surprise: despite the fact that Pacific Rim contains almost every single cliché of a 2013 summer blockbuster movie, it isn’t this year’s Battleship. It’s actually a huge pile of block-busting fun.

How is that even possible? The story consists of humankind’s last desperate battle against impossible aliens rising up out of the sea, where all hope lies with giant (and I mean freakin’ huge) robots and some sick and troubled people. Director Guillermo del Toro and screenwriter Travis Beacham obviously sent you some anime references before production. The influences are clear, but instead of any name-checks, they simply borrowed to give their story shape and heft. In fact, the key thread that seems to tie the film together is the actual fighting.

The massive robot-vs-monster punch-fights have a wonderful physicality to them. Clearly you were thinking of how these battles would actually play out, and how to add stakes and drama to all-CGI scenes. Awesome. Well done. Unlike almost every other movie this summer, I knew what was going on during almost every moment in each fight scene – and I cared.

On the human side, key emotional moments are punctuated with confrontation and duels. The interpersonal punch-fights sort out the negative even positive relationships between characters, giving them depth and moving the plot while still being action-tastic.

Thankfully, this movie is also not this year’s Prometheus. The actors are used well. Idris Elba gets to do his thing! The scientists are interesting and enjoyable, even when they are doing really stupid things, played for fun and profit by Charlie Day and Burn Gorman. The leads, Rinko Kikuchi and Charlie Hunnam are fine. In fact, all the actors are put to good use, well choreographed to the needs of an entertaining action extravaganza.

Don’t get me wrong – this isn’t the best movie ever. It’s not going to change your mind about anything or introduce any novel plot twists you’ve never seen (although having a male and female lead that don’t hook up was pretty damn refreshing). But I am pleased because I wasn’t annoyed by the end of it. The movie let me like it without being brooding or mopey (surprising, considering the dark subject matter).

If I have let my critical compass go a bit off-center, I can’t be blamed. The themes in this (and every?) summer are clearly laid out. Man of Steel, Iron Man 3, Star Trek Into Darkness, and World War Z all rely on the same heavy-handed bits. There are the 9/11 parallels, man crushes, hand-job treatment of the military, unconvincing emotional arcs, two-hour-plus runtimes, the deaths of thousands, and some half-witty dialogue to brighten it all up. In the end you mostly feel tired, and the lack of subtext or even text makes you regret talking about the movie too much afterwards. But this time, I didn’t fight it.

And those robots! They were really big. Which makes me want to ask you something I wouldn’t ever do in person. Your IMDB bio says you are shorter than Jackie Chan. Was it weird to plan such big fights? Or did that make you the perfect man for the job? You don’t have to answer. 

Punching out,

Cory

Status: Rocket-Powered Air Mail (3.5/5)

Despicable Me 2

Dear Katie Ballentine, Marketing Consultant,

It makes sense to me that a film like Despicable Me 2 would need a marketing consultant. I don’t mean that as a shot at the film’s quality; I’m talking about public perception of animated films in general. When it comes to summer releases, animated films, as far as moviegoers seem to be concerned, fall into two basic categories: the one from Pixar, and everything else. With Despicable Me 2 opening only a week and a half after Pixar’s own Monsters University, I’m sure you had your marketing work cut out for you. 

Now, I’m aware it’s a critical fallacy to judge a film based on what it’s not. It’s an easy trap to fall into and– in the spirit of full disclosure – I’ve been guilty of that sin myself (sorry, Man of Steel, but you had it coming). So before this turns into an Armond White-style list of arbitrary comparisons*, I’ll assure you, that’s not what I’m here to do. (Besides, you can read my thoughts on Monsters University on your own time.)

From your own marketer’s point of view, there’s certainly plenty to get an audience interested in Despicable Me 2. As a sequel, much of your heavy lifting is already done: Steve Carell’s Gru, the former-evil-scientist-turned-adoptive-father-to-three-daughters, as well as his army of yellow, squat, not-too-bright (but zany!) minions need no introduction. And the addition of Kristen Wiig, Ken Jeong, Benjamin Bratt, and Steve Coogan may not bring in the kids, but it does let the parents know that there is some top-drawer comic talent working alongside Carell. 

Story wise, this also seems like a pretty easy sell, introducing some standard-but-fun spy film conventions into the Despicable Me universe. Contacted by the Anti Villain League, Gru is teamed up with Agent Lucy Wilde (Wiig) to investigate a plot that involves a giant flying magnet, world domination, and the local shopping mall. It’s is a good set up, and Carrell and Wiig, posing as new mall shop owners, make a cute, supposedly mismatched undercover odd couple, even thought the outcome of their relationship is never in question. Unfortunately, like many marketing campaigns, this film is all set up. It stumbles in delivering the goods.

When first given his assignment, Gru is shown a number of possible suspects, all shop owners. But what looks to be the set up to a fun caper – the reclusive Gru forced to interact with his fellow shop keeps – is mostly a dead end. Sure, there are two possible villains (Bratt and Jeong), but as it unfolds, Despicable Me 2 loses its focus, adding extra stories (Gru’s dating life, the first crush of one of his) that, while cute, drain much of the primary narrative’s momentum. A few sequences that rely a little too much on pop culture references also do no favours, making the film itself feel less sure about its central premise than it should. 

Still, like the expertise you bring to your projects, Despicable Me 2 does understand its target demographic. The theatre in which I watched it was full of children delighted with all of its busyness (or maybe because of it), and they didn’t seem phased by, say, whether or not they grasped why a Barry White song was being used at a particular moment. For that, I’ll give the film its due credit. I just wish I could have bought into it as wholly as they did.

Wanting to be more of an advocate,

Casey

Satus: Standard delivery (3/5)

*Apologies if you are unfamiliar with White’s oeuvre, but I cannot, in good conscience, bring myself to link to it here. For that, you’re welcome.