Month: July 2025

NOTORIOUS

By Marc S. Sanders

In 1946, Alicia Huberman (Ingrid Bergman) is numbing the shame of her father being convicted for treason by drinking herself silly at a party she’s hosting.  We see the back of the head of a nameless guest, eventually revealed to be a man named Devlin (Cary Grant).  Once Alicia is sobered up, she awakens to the handsome image of this man entering her room with her point of view turning like a clock in a hundred- and eighty-degree direction.  This mysterious fellow is about to escort her into a dizzying labyrinth that will test the limits of her loyalty to him and the patriotism she has for her country.

Devlin is an American agent who has been assigned to recruit Alicia as an insider to an associate of her father’s.  His name is Alexander Sebastian (Claude Rains) and he’s likely a Nazi stooge with a deadly plot ready to set in motion.  Alicia is tasked with reacquainting herself with Alex and uncovering who he is working with and what they all have in mind.  Devlin will check in with her on occasion.

Complications ensue however because just before Alicia begins her mission in Rio De Janerio, she has fallen in love with Mr. Devlin.  Normally, I would not be able to buy into the quick whirlwind romance of Alicia and Devlin.  I never liked it when Sydney Pollack would wedge a love story into his thrillers (Absence Of Malice, Three Days Of The Condor).  However, this is Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant we are talking about here, and they are being directed by Alfred Hitchcock in the classic film, Notorious.  The famous three-minute kiss in the picture seals the argument.  

Standard film practice of the time would not permit a kiss lasting longer than three seconds.  The actors though expand on this romantic moment with inserted dialogue, none of which is altogether memorable, and focus on a prepared chicken dinner to have on the balcony overlooking the coastline.  This scene occurs early in the film just after the exposition of Alicia and Devlin’s assignment is established.  I still don’t know either of character very well.  So why do I care about them?  Well, it’s how Hitchcock films the script by Ben Hecht.  There’s disturbing shadows and ominous mystery to the world that Alicia is seduced into entering after her drunken binge has ended.  As well, Devlin is warned that he will have to keep his distance from her so as not to alarm Alex or any of his Nazi associates.  Now, I’m genuinely nervous for Alicia’s safety.

Once Alicia is ingrained in Alex’ world, a new romance arrives, and she willingly marries the German aristocrat to uphold her ruse while making efforts to uncover the Nazis’ plot.  Devlin enters and exits her life to collect whatever information and access Alicia can supply.

As Notorious played out for me, sadly the first thing that came to mind was that Tom Cruise’s second Mission: Impossible film is nearly a scene for scene remake of Hitchcock’s classic, minus the over-the-top stunts and rock climbing.  Yet even before that thought popped into my head, I thought this is a film that could be remade into a wonderful modern update, but only in the hands of select filmmakers like Martin Scorsese or Christopher Nolan.  Keep the guns and blood and car chases out of it though.  Notorious succeeds without a single punch, gunshot, curse word, or ball of fire.  It’s the characters and Hitchcock’s use of brooding light, mood and shadows that maintain the suspense.  Select props and costume wear are scarier than Godzilla or The Birds.

Nearly twenty years before he made Psycho, the director was terrifying audiences with a maternal element already.  Madam Sebastian (Leopoldine Konstantin) is such an intimidating force within the castle like estate she shares with her son Alex, who easily falls in love with the beautiful Alicia.  The Madam is upholds a watchful eye on all activity. Bergman’s fear of this foreboding mother is just one of the dynamics she brings to her portrayal.  

Suspense is what Hitch relies on.  Sometimes I felt like I could not trust Mr. Devlin.  The name Devlin bears a sinister reminder of a beast within its spelling. Cary Grant is at first aloof with how Devlin regards Alicia’s potential for self-harm.  Hitchcock eerily introduces Cary Grant in the picture.  First, by only shooting him behind his head, not revealing his face. A little later, I felt reluctant to trust his upside-down appearance as Alicia awakens from her drunken stupor.  Thereafter, he will take a measured risk with Alicia riding horseback and never attempt to rescue her.  He leaves it to someone else to save her. He’s a tricky sort of fellow.

Conversely, Claude Rains as Alex, the supposed Nazi, is utterly charming and attentive towards Alicia.  Despite what he might be involved with, he’s ready to begin a newly loving and glamorous life with her.  I trust Alex.  He maintains a genuine affection for Alicia and it’s hard to presume he is anything else, especially of the sinister sort.

Ingrid Bergman is captivating as soon as she appears on screen, exiting her father’s courtroom sentence.  In fact, she resembles her most famous portrayal as Elsa from Casablanca that easily can be part of this cinematic universe.  With Claude Rains on screen with her again, could this have been a sequel of sorts?  I have much more experience with Meryl Streep’s career and therefore Bergman gives me a lot to reminisce about Streep both when she’s a strong and confident person or a fearful subject.  Either way, the bravery of the character upholds.

There are eye opening camera tactics of Hitchcock working here.  I’m amazed at a zoom in that lowers its focus from a great height at Alex’ mansion down to the grand foyer below where Alicia stands with a vital prop key hidden in her fist.  Amidst all of the traffic of an evening party, this tiny key is what’s most important.  A teacup is given greater scale to enhance a monstrous threat of what’s inside the drink.  A wine bottle suddenly becomes a mystery.  Some elderly, petite men dressed in perfectly tailored tuxedos spell a likely outcome of doom.  The darkness of rooms shot in black and white feels inescapable.  The absolute final shot of the picture is unforgettable.

For years, the adventurers of North By Northwest with Cary Grant in his beautifully fitted blue suit held the crown as my favorite Alfred Hitchcock picture.  That title has now been surrendered to Notorious.  It is signature Hitchcock with twists in character, reasons for mistrust, a MacGuffin (that item that drives the story, yet bears hardly any importance), motherly instincts of fear, obscure camera angles, shadows and dim light which is particularly chilling when shot in black and white.  All of these elements add up to the director’s expert craft at suspense.  

Notorious is a hundred percent perfect example of why Alfred Hitchcock remains celebrated as one of the best directors to ever film a motion picture.  

NOTE:  I am surprised that neither IMDb trivia, nor Roger Ebert in his Great Movie review, ever acknowledged that the story of Notorious begins on April 20, also known as Adolf Hitler’s birthday. A curious date for a spy thriller centered around Nazi espionage.

NOTE: I want to also draw attention to a move that Cary Grant does in the film.  Following Alicia’s drunken party, several guests are passed out on the sofa.  Devlin finishes a drink and rests the glass on the upper torso of a passed-out woman where it balances perfectly.  We may be going after dangerous Nazis, but Grant and Hitchcock still found opportunities to make audiences smirk at their mischief.

WALL STREET

By Marc S. Sanders

Oliver Stone is a very good director at providing the evidence of cynicism within the worlds he films.  JFK covered a clandestine, conspiring environment oozing out of the columns of government.  Platoon not only depicted the horrors of war, but also the cancer that poisons the mentality of soldiers expected to protect one another.  Wall Street explores the temptations to cheat the stock market for grand prizes in wealth.  Gordon Gekko is the 1980s tycoon who never knows the meaning of enough.

The well-dressed yuppie lizard, Gordon Gekko, is memorably played by Michael Douglas in his only Oscar winning role; regarded as one of the most villainous characters of the last fifty years.  It’s not a modest part, and Douglas’ performance is therefore electrifying.  With slicked back hair, the signature crackle of a voice inherited by his father Kirk, and the newest 80s innovation, a brick size cellular phone, the power to earn money and crush corporate enemies is done with ease.  Gekko relies on obtaining inside information (a federal crime) to find the next chest of treasures.  It might be an illegal practice but the best of the best at making mountains of money do it, and if you keep your process on the down low, nobody will catch wind of what you’re up to.  Gordon Gekko is an absolute genius, and he’s awarded a script of fast talking, slick monologues that justify his sins.

Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) is the kid on the ground, way below Gordon’s high-rise office, desperately trying to get five minutes with the guy.  A whole day’s wait in the lobby and a birthday gift of Cuban cigars does the trick.  Now the lizard has the fox ensnared in his money-making schemes of deception and pursuits for unlimited greed.

Oliver Stone writes Sheen’s character as virginal when it comes to stock trading.  The kid is dying to get laid with the big boys while getting away from the cold calling hang ups of promising uncertain futures in stocks and bonds.  A subtle and effective angle is to give Bud a mentor.  Hal Holbrook enters the screen from left or right on many occasions to put his hand on Bud’s shoulder and give him his own twist of Confucius philosophy.  Then he exits out of frame towards the opposite direction he enters, leaving Bud to follow the questionable paths that Gordon paves.  Holbrook’s contribution to Wall Street has never been celebrated enough over the years.

Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen are an outstanding pair of devilish mentorship against innocence lost.  Gekko preaches his passion for wealth on top of more wealth and why nothing should stand in his way, especially the law or the cost of others’ livelihoods.  Bud Fox emulates him as a master of the universe.  Charlie Sheen is great at being the biggest fan in Michael Douglas’ concerts of monologues. Watch how Sheen listens when Douglas has the floor. 

Martin Sheen extends his paternal role to Charlie within Stone’s film.  As Gordon sets designs on taking stock ownership of the small airline company that the father works for, the father/son relationship is tested, and Bud becomes blurred between what is right and wrong.  The Sheens have good debates and heightened dramatic moments.  I wish they were given more to do together though.  Perhaps even showing the wedge of the mother role within this family.

Additionally, Oliver Stone writes dynamics for Bud in a worker relationship with a fellow trader colleague (John C McGinley). There’s a former college pal/now lawyer (James Spader) that Bud tries to squeeze at the behest of Gordon’s demands.  Bud is also covered doing his own tricks of the trade such as dressing as a janitor to dig for what’s forbidden.

Why bring up all of these storylines?  Well, there’s a wealth of great material in Wall Street that’s relevant to the practice of insider trading and corporate overhaul.  Somehow though, Oliver Stone is responsible for writing one of the most unnecessary characters in film history.

Daryl Hannah just had to be cast as the buxom blond love interest for Bud Fox.  She’s never believable as a New York City interior designer and the chemistry between Hannah and Sheen is as thin as water.  Her name is Darien (a 1980s name) and one scene between Michael Douglas and her bustling the streets of Manhattan goes nowhere.  Wall Street is simply not the superb film it could have been because of the amount of time devoted to Daryl Hannah’s character.  Every moment she occupies is cutting room floor material.  When Darien exits the picture she’s never mentioned again.  The history she has with Gordon is never revealed to Bud.  Regrettably, it’s all meaningless.

What’s frustrating with Wall Street is its promise is never fully committed.  The roles awarded to Spader, McGinley, Holbrook and even Saul Rubinek in an early role as Gordon’s nerdy lawyer could have been even more fleshed out in lieu of what is covered with Daryl Hannah’s part.  More moments with Martin and Charlie Sheen would have better served the film.  A competitor tycoon played by Terence Stamp is very interesting and worthy of a larger presence.  Sadly, I imagine a studio producer or even Stone insisted on having a love interest that serves no purpose here except to put a glamorous actress above the title in the credits.  

Nonetheless, Oliver Stone built an authenticity to the hysteria of stock trading and corporate underhandedness.  When he shoots the scenes occupied by Bud and Gordon, he does handheld shaky camera work to emulate that nothing feels sturdy and balanced.  In moments that Bud’s father is at the center, the director shoots with a locked in position, bearing the character’s assured apprehension to trust his son or this prophet of greed.

I especially like the scene where Michael Douglas delivers his famous “Greed…is good!” speech at a shareholders’ annual meeting.  Stone glosses over all the company vice presidents and officers as well as the fat cat suits who carry stakes in the company.  Yet, the filmmaker also takes the time to show that little old lady with the pocketbook who finds her entitled seat to see how the value of her small ownership share is being treated.  Remember, if you own stock like Disney or IBM, you get that invitation in the mail to attend these meetings, and you have just as much a right to attend as all the Gordon Gekkos of the world.

Wall Street serves an important reflection of 1980s capitalism, while taking place in 1985, two years ahead of the infamous market crash of 1987 (the year the film was released).  Guys like Bud Fox had the Charlie Sheen image. Boyish men who got rich quick with little imagination to create and build.  They stood next to tall wealth and learned, but they never gained the knowledge to prepare for quick falls and disheartening sacrifice.  Most importantly, they took their own sense of morale for granted.  These are the best parts of Wall Street.

SPECIAL GUEST REVIEW: SUPERMAN (2025)

By Ronnie Clements with Screen Gems

Screen Gems Reflects on Superman (2025) … {Review by Ronnie (Dorian) Clements on his FB page Screen Gems … https://www.facebook.com/screengemsbyronnie}

Not perfect, but wonderfully surreal. The real DC Universe has returned, the torch is passed to a new Man of Steel (for a new generation) and all feels right again with the World. As predicted, Krypto steals the show!

A Personal Reflection …

Decades ago, a 10-year-old boy in Australia, an only child, happily solitary and proudly “different”, found a “friend” in Superman. That boy was me.

Superman wasn’t just a superhero. He was a symbol of kindness, humility, compassion and unwavering goodness. I devoured the comics, eventually discovered George Reeves in the 50’s tv series and (on DVD) witnessed the cinematic magic of Superman (1978) and its sequel. For me, they became iconic benchmarks. Even Superman Returns (2006) had its charm, but nothing truly recaptured that original spark … until now.

James Gunn’s Vision … With Superman (2025), James Gunn doesn’t just reboot, he resurrects. The film is heartfelt, bold and visually striking. Gunn pays tribute to Donner’s 1978 masterpiece while crafting something fresh and electric. Gone is Snyder’s brooding gloom; Gunn skips the origin tale and plunges us straight into present-day Metropolis, where geopolitical tensions, metahuman drama and Lex Luthor loom large.

Yes, it’s another Supe vs. Luthor showdown, but Gunn infuses it with fresh fire. A colourful ensemble of heroes and villains supercharges the action, which is as thrilling as it is emotionally resonant.

David Corenswet’s Superman is vulnerable, bruised, battered … and beautifully human. His portrayal makes the Man of Steel relatable, fallible and real.

The Cast: Hits and Misses …

Corenswet nails both personas: the confident hero and the awkward reporter. He channels the essence of Christopher Reeve with warmth and sincerity, carving out his own legacy. Routh pulled that off, Reeve embodied it, and let’s just say … Cavill never quite got there.

Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor? Sensational. A chilling, tech-savvy sociopath with a vile streak that’s unforgettable, especially for dog lovers. His treatment of Krypto guarantees him cinematic infamy.

Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane is confident, sharp and assertive. But while she’s undeniably strong, I miss the subtle magnetism and sass that Margot Kidder brought in the 1978 OG. Brosnahan’s chemistry with Supe is fine but it doesn’t crackle.

Krypto: Cape, Chaos, Heart …

Yes, a flying dog in a cape. Yes, it works. Krypto brings mischief, magic and soul, stealing scenes and hearts alike. Two of my favourite shots in the entire film feature him. He’s not just comic relief, he’s emotional gold.

Structure, Style and Storytelling …

Not everything lands perfectly. The structure is a bit uneven and some scenes, like the extended Lois-Clark interview, slow the momentum. But Gunn’s comic-book-inspired visuals shine: each frame feels lifted from a paneled page. It’s vibrant, sweeping and often breathtaking.

Final Thoughts …

This isn’t just a new chapter for Superman, it’s a heartfelt revival. Gunn reminds us why the character matters and dares us to believe again. Whether you grew up with Supe or are discovering him for the first time, Superman (2025) asks us all to look up.

And now? My mission is clear: visit every dog shelter I can until I find a rescue that looks just like Krypto. The cape is ready and I’m hopeful!

Trailer … https://youtu.be/OfpXgjP4AOs?si=mkdIvgrFaZLwXuFG

#superman #Superman2025#lexluthor #LoisLane #JamesGunn #dccomics #dcuniverse #superheroes #superheromovies

SUPERMAN (2025)

By Marc S. Sanders

Once again the man in blue, red and yellow has returned to the big screen by means of director James Gunn who is intent on starting a whole new universe of DC comics characters.  The 2025 interpretation of Superman is zippy and fun even if it is a little too shallow of character development and dimension.  That’s regrettably ironic actually.  A man who dons two different personalities, Superman and mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent. Yet, neither has much to say or stand for in this two hour picture.

Gunn’s film is defiant to avoid any heavy exposition as this film begins.  There’s a slim foreword as the picture begins to describe this new universe that contains metahumans who arrived on Earth centuries ago, along with a little bit of Kal-el’s origin that many of us are familiar with.  Then we see the Man Of Steel crater into the Antarctic wounded from battle and aided by his feisty canine friend, Krypto, who drags him to his ice palace, the Fortress of Solitude.

Action commences thereafter back in Metropolis.  Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult) is pulling the puppet strings.  Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) and the rest of the Daily Planet staff witness the mayhem over the city.

Then we get a bit of Clark looking a little goofy as he rushes into work, followed by some romantic interlude between Clark and Lois back at her apartment.  The two toe the line of their relationship when finally, the Superman persona allows his girlfriend to test his purpose for serving planet Earth along with his limits of authority and decisive action.  They go back and forth but none of the dialogue lands and the argument has no impact.  A missed opportunity to set up the Lois and Clark relationship.

The rest of the picture focuses on comic book episodes of endangering Superman while other metahumans make appearances – an obnoxious Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion), Hawkgirl, the shape shifting Metamorpho, and the surprisingly entertaining Mr. Terrific (Edi Gathegi) who seems to operate like Mr. Spock from Star Trek.  Of the four, the guy with the dumbest name actually serves the picture the best.

James Gunn’s film takes a huge departure from the recent films of Zach Snyder’s universe.  Nothing is dark and hardly anything is morose.  Some subplots seem to be ripped from the headlines of current events that’ll have you thinking about the Russian-Ukraine war.  None of it is overly heavy though because this picture is designed for families to watch together. 

Superman is pure escape with a red cape.

What I miss though is what both the Snyder and the Christopher Reeve pictures offered.  What does Superman mean to himself and the planet Earth?  The one conversation between Lois and Clark/Superman goes on long and while it feels like there is a purpose in that exchange, I cannot recall one kind of conclusion that stemmed from it.  For the rest of the film, Lois flies a spaceship and helps a weakened Superman find aid. When the two share any more scenes together it is for the action of the piece followed by a kissing scene.  I just didn’t respond to the puppy love or risks of their relationship that other iterations offered.  Their connection is just written a little too thin.  That’s a problem, because the Superman mythos always hinged on their relationship in the face of danger or true love or even journalistic integrity.

Am I being too serious and hardheaded?  Yes.  Nevertheless, even with a comic book/Saturday morning cartoon gloss, I wanted to see more weight to the relationship between the two characters.

The best attraction is Nicholas Hoult as a connivingly evil Lex Luthor.  He’s a raging madman bent on destroying Superman like everyone knows and the actor chews the scenery while primarily hiding in his glass headquartered command center for most of the film.  Anytime the movie diverts to Luthor, the picture just felt more alive.  This is a great Lex Luthor!!!!!!

Like he did with a smart aleck racoon in his other films, James Gunn introduces a toy line merchandise with the flying white terrier dog known as Krypto.  His intent is for audiences to cheer for him like other precocious creatures from past films such as any Disney movie or E.T. or Baby Yoda or Rocket Raccoon.  He’s cute and spirited.  When he’s in danger, the kids will be worried.  When he flies into the center of the screen with a bark or a yelp, everyone will applaud. 

David Corenswet is Superman.  He’s fine.  He definitely looks like the part.  He’s a happy go lucky Kryptonian.  He’ll never be as memorable as Christopher Reeve.  I also have more to appreciate in Henry Cavill’s performance.  I just didn’t see Corenswet do enough with this role.  I’ve yet to really see the dramatic chops he could offer.  Simply lying on the floor of a cell while falling ill to Krytonite is not urgent or frightening enough.  I hardly got to know this guy to care enough if he lives or dies.  I hope he’ll blossom some more within future installments of Gunn’s superhero universe.  That’s up to the writers though.  David Corenswet is pleasingly relaxed in a role that demands almost a hundred years of acceptance for a modern age.  I’m confident he can do it and that Gunn cast the right guy for the part.  While he’s acceptable, both Corenswet and Brosnahan would best be served better material for them to work together. 

As for Rachel Brosnahan, I guess she’s okay.  I don’t see her do much beside fly a spaceship.  Lois Lane is such an immense character of brains and gusto striving to always be the number one reporter.  Her only weakness is her love for Superman.  There’s not much I remember about her from this film.  I did notice that she primarily wears purple like the character did in 1990’s animated series.  Nice salute.  Come on James Gunn.  Rachel Brosnahan is good actress.  Give her something more to do.  Let her act a little.  (Let David Corenswet act a little too.)

It’s wonderful that an optimistic interpretation of Superman has arrived.  We need it.  It’s colorful and fun.  It could be more exciting, though, with higher stakes that just didn’t arrive quite right.  This film is not my ideal picture of the hero, but the universe to come, especially with a quick appearance from another character at the conclusion, offers promise. 

Despite my reservations, the new DC Cinematic Universe seems to be in the right hands once again, and James Gunn’s team will deliver something entertaining for the next few years to come.

EQUILIBRIUM

By Marc S. Sanders

It’s amazing what drugs can do to you.  Take them on a regular basis and perhaps you can maintain focus and discipline as an enforcer to a dystopian humanity.  Then again, if you stop taking the medication, maybe you’ll open your eyes wider with an ability to nurture, care and appreciate.

This is the set up to writer/director Kurt Wimmer’s futuristic sci fi tale, Equilibrium.  The immense action scenes look like a modified springboard off of what The Matrix provided.  Be that as it may, at least the story stands on its own with an Orwellian inspiration to give it legs. It actually looks like an elder stepbrother to that Apple Super Bowl commercial directed by Ridley Scott.

The best of a specialized police force is the Grammatron Cleric, John Preston (Christian Bale).  Within the bustling city of Libra, large monitors periodically remind commuters to take their routine Prozium.  This allows emotions and feelings to be suppressed.  Thus, order is upheld.  Jealously, for example, is ostracized from this community. The Clerics must heed to this program strictly as a means to live by example.  

Still, even with most of the world population wiped out, there are factions and individuals who do not abide by this governance.  Preston, along with large squads of heavily armed militia seek out these offenders and often discover their fix for stimulation coming from sources of art, literature, and music.  Apprehend the criminal(s), and destroy the contraband they conceal under floor boards and behind plastered walls.  The actual Mona Lisa becomes an early casualty of legal property possession. 

If the culprits take up arms, they’ll be no match for the Clerics, especially the best of this class, John Preston.  

Yet, what happens if John opts not to continue his dosage?

Equilibrium does very well at teaching this unfamiliar science fiction before exploring how it all crumbles.  The expository opening presents an exciting scene of Preston’s methods.  Later, it follows how the system malfunctions.  

Miguel warned me ahead of time because about the only thing I feign at seeing in a movie is any kind of harm to a dog.  A disturbing moment occurs as John experiences his “awakening,” and considering the value I have for a dog’s affection I cannot deny how necessary the moment plays here.  It lends to the change in the protagonist’s character arc.  It is a cruel scene but with anything that feels unjust, within reality or fiction, an event has to occur to pull our heads out of the sand.

The action scenes have a unique flair to them as the Clerics reveal firearms that dispense from under the uniformed sleeves ready to use for firing, but with a martial arts kind of gloss.  While you watch it’s just plain cool, and Christian Bale looks great doing the stoic, less is more exertion to the moments.  He’s such a good actor at performing choreographed dances of shoot ‘em up violence while struggling to maintain an uncompromising mentality this character is expected to be accustomed to.

On the other hand, his new partner, Brandt, is either drafted incorrectly in the script or miscast with Taye Diggs in the role.  He’s a Cleric in training and an admirer of Preston. If the Clerics are supposed to be devoid of emotion, then why is his envy of this man so apparent.  It’s Taye Diggs stepping off his familiar Broadway stage.  However, I do not believe that’s what Equilibrium is expected to offer.  Brandt seems to possess too much pleasure for his calling.  Ultimately, Brandt becomes the antagonist who serves the greater power as his suspicions grow about Preston’s “withdrawal.”  Taye Diggs and Brandt feel like they belong in another film.

Preston had a wife who disappeared mysteriously as well, and he’s left with two children who are being designed to perform like him.  I found the kids to be too much excess for Wimmer’s script though.  Yes, the son turns up at a crucial moment of discovery.  However, after the children appear early in the film, their father does not associate or see them again until close to when the story is wrapping up.  I’m certain the daughter had no more than one line of dialogue. I think it would have been better to excise this storyline altogether.  It has no urgency, nor is it fleshed out enough.  Why must John Preston be a father?  

Equilibrium is an interesting sci fi amalgamation of George Orwell and Phillip K Dick constructs.  There are some disturbingly decent ideas here and if you’re not careful you may find yourself comparing its designs to what some worldwide political climates feel like today.  Don’t overthink it though.  

It has some faults, but the action is entertaining.  Fortunately, Christian Bale occupies the whole of the piece.  The guy is just too dang cool, dressed in black garb with surprise weapons appearing from nowhere at his will while he twirls through the air with his arms outstretched and ready for fast moving combat.

Let’s see John Preston face off against Neo from The Matrix next.  My god, that’ll make the John Wick movies feel like nursery rhyme programs.

Think about all the artillery and jiu jitsu. 

I gotta lie down.  The headrush is making me feel like I overdosed on Prozium. There was a time when I got emotional over things, wasn’t there?

JAWS 2

By Marc S. Sanders

The last movie, the masterpiece of masterpieces, told us that a great white shark is rare for the kinds of waters that surround the New England area of Amity Island.  Well, Jaws 2 disproves that fictional theory as Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) ascertains that another man eater has arrived with a large appetite for chomping on swimmers, scuba divers and water skiers.  It’s ridiculous but it’s an entertaining sequel with a supporting cast of young actors ready to effectively tremble and scream while trying to survive the clutches of a hungry great white.  

Things appear tranquil yet prosperous for Amity.  A developer has completed a large Holiday Inn hotel that will magnify tourism profitability.  To Martin’s chagrin, his wife Ellen (Lorraine Gary) works for this guy.  Mayor Vaughn (Murray Hamilton) somehow got reelected following that terrifying Fourth of July weekend from a few years ago.  (Well…his kids were on that beach too.) Chief Brody’s biggest concern though is his oldest son Michael’s penchant to laze around sailing with his friends for the summer when he should be getting a job.  Michael just wants to score with the new girl in town.

All is well until an abandoned boat is discovered off shore with an underwater camera dropped on the ocean floor, near Captain Quint’s shipwrecked Orca.  Thereafter, is an explosive water skiing accident.  The most hideous eyesore must be the beached, partly devoured corpse of a humongous killer whale.  The bite sizes are enormous.  Chief Brody is getting terribly suspicious, but once again his intuition is being disregarded until the truth reveals its blood in the waters. 

Jaws 2 is effective suspense.  The teens are straight out of familiar slasher movies, but this film actually released ahead of Halloween and Friday The 13th fare.  Director Jeannot Szwarc captures good close ups of the whole cast and magnificent pace with a speeding fin that slices through the ocean surface.  These kids are mostly nameless but the director gives them good moments to put their greatest fears on.  When the sailboats capsize and the kids topple into the water, there’s a nervous tension all the way to the end of the picture.

It’s no secret that Scheider hated making this movie.  Universal contractually beheld him to it after he dropped out of Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter.  Nonetheless, I like the direction the character takes with returning script writer Carl Gottlieb.  Brody’s job is in jeopardy and maybe his marriage, along with the paternal strife he gets in the way of his eldest boy.  Roy Scheider does fine with the material.  Perhaps his personal frustrations lent to the performance.

What doesn’t work is Bruce II – the shark.  To this day I’m still stricken with fear of the shark from Spielberg’s film, even after we finally get to see it.  It truly is a scary monster.  In Jaws 2 however, the animal looks like something you buy at a beach novelty store for your grandson to play with in a kiddie pool.  The texture of the shark never feels authentic particularly after it survives a fire.  I am not fond of how it swims or raises its head above water.  Even when a helicopter gets in its crosshairs, the shark looks small and literally mechanical, never seeming strong or powerful enough to kill, maim and destroy. The magic trick just appears entirely too transparent.  Fortunately, I bought into how this town’s worst fears eventually come true again.  The perception of Brody and the kids is the mightiest strength of the film.

A brief mention is given to Matt Hooper (famously played by Richard Dreyfus in the first picture).  That always left me curious with why Universal did not pursue a sequel based on his character instead of Brody.  It’s hard to swallow that another monster shark is terrorizing Amity again.  Wouldn’t it have more plausibility for the actual shark specialist to pursue another brutally unforgiving Carcharodon Carcharias elsewhere in the world?  I think a story moving in this direction could have opened a lot fresher possibility.

Regardless, Jaws 2 is a fun summertime escape with one of the most familiar taglines in cinematic history: “Just when thought it was safe to go back in the water.”

Only watch Jaws 3 & The Revenge when you’re ready to get your itch for a Mystery Science Theater 3000 kick to commiserate with some friends on a Saturday night.  Save Jaws 2 for when you want more shark chum after having watched the classic original for the five thousandth time.    

F1

By Marc S. Sanders

Miguel and I are the two unpaid movie critics who find ways to entertain ourselves beyond the IMAX picture on the screen.  By now, I know when Nicole Kidman is arriving and I start her off by saying out loud “We come to this place…”. Mig turns his head down in sarcastic annoyance.  We applaud at the return of Jaws in theaters this August.  There’s a rhythm we chemically thrive on.

Thirty minutes after a series of trailers plus an unwanted Allstate commercial (Thanks a lot AMC), the film begins, and the personal hand gestures begin.  Excuse me a moment.  I must pause for a moment.  (a-hem!) 

GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTERS!!!  

Now, where were we?  

Oh yes…

During the running time of Brad Pitt’s racing movie, F1, there were animated fist pumps (“Yeah!  Alright!!”).  There was rhythmic poking in and out of my right index finger jamming into my left thumb and forefinger (“Brad is about to get it on with Kate, the staple romantic interest, played by Kerrie Condon”).  A palm up facing twirl of the wrist (“Of course.” “Naturally!”). There’s the muted gasp pat on Miguel’s arm (“Is it?” “Could it be?” “Don’t tell me!” “Brad is fully recovered and walking through the steam cloud to pilot his race car?” “Again?”  “For one last time?”).  F1 covers all the expected beats.  

Frankly, I am not aware of too many racing films.  Days Of Thunder with Tom Cruise, of course.  Ron Howard did an engaging piece called Rush.  Ford Vs Ferrari works better as a bio than just a racing movie.  Pixar has its series of cute films. Still, just like the new Jurassic World picture, and I’m sure the latest Superman iteration arriving later this week, F1 is all too familiar like any kind of sports movie or Top Gun on the track Jerry Bruckheimer pic.

Tom Cruise—I mean Brad Pitt—is legendary stock car racer Sonny Hayes, a middle aged, washed up and broke recovering gambler desperately invited by his friend and former teammate Gabriel (Javier Bardem) to rescue his racing team from going belly up and leaving him hundreds of millions of dollars in debt.  Gabriel already has a cocky, promising driver named Joshua enlisted. He is performed very well with a lot of appeal by Damson Idris.  However, the young man does not have focus yet and lives for his social media likes and attention.  It’s up to Sonny to make the Formula One racing squad look like a contender while reigning in Joshua who can’t let go of personal conceit and a jealous animosity.

Kerry Condon is the engineering designer of Sonny and Joshua’s racing vehicles.  With each race, Kate trouble shoots what needs improvement and what can advance the drivers’ rankings.  Too bad she can’t fully invest her expertise as F1 demands she flirts with Sonny.  (Cue my right index finger while Miguel is ready to brush it away.)

The most impressive moments from Joseph Kosinski’s (Top Gun: Maverick) film are the racing scenes.  You are seeing both Pitt and Idris tucked within the snug cockpits of these low to the ground speedster machines.  The editing is superbly matched with the roaring sound and a pulsing soundtrack from another Hans Zimmer masterpiece.  

My one issue is the final cuts of the various races lacked overhead shots.  I would have liked to have seen moments from above where I could follow when the race cars pull in and out of a pit stop for example and stay on pace with unnamed competitors.  Kosinski gives an overabundance of close-up shots of the actors in the cars but not as much outside of the vehicles.  It’s all very exciting though, and when a film opens with revving engines playing in tandem with Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love, well you have me hooked.

F1 is like another exciting amusement park ride that you’ve experienced a hundred times before.  In between the races, while there are well drawn characters played by good actors, there’s ho hum filling material that keeps this speedy ride going about a half hour to forty-five minutes too long.  The guys have to argue.  They have to lose the race.  They each have to crash their cars.  They have to be tricked into getting along.  There also has to be a traitor among the ranks.  There has to be sequences of music overplaying a series of different races and the voiceover commentators chiming in with standard fare like “…and here comes Sonny Hayes from behind…” As well, Pitt and Condon have to get it on.  She has to tell him she doesn’t get romantically involved with racers before they hump each other’s brains out (Cue the index finger!).  

Sonny also has to be told he’s finished, before emerging from that humid, sunlit steam cloud where Joshua and the pit crew slowly raise their sunglasses and drop their jaws, upon his return. (Cue the muted gasp, followed by my twentieth fist pump.)

Look, F1 is entertaining.  It’s well made.  It’s got great action with impressive direction and an enthusiastic cast.  Still, I’m tired of this more of the same.  I alluded to my same feelings yesterday with Jurassic World: Rebirth.  It’s all the same flavor and these iterations are not daring enough to take big risks or surprises with what they offer.  Consider Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame.  Those films were expected to play by the same beats and yet there were some shocks to come through.  Look at what happened with The Empire Strikes Back.  Anyone see those surprises when first encountered?  The stakes were always surprisingly high, and the heroes were getting personally affected, not just episodically, but permanently.  

Blockbusters need not be so cookie cutter all of the time, but that’s exactly what is happening.  I already know the outcome of the upcoming Fantastic Four movie.  It could not be more apparent and unimaginative.  

I watched Companion which just hit HBO MAX earlier this month and in ninety minutes, that bloody delicious film diverts in so many different directions with a bare minimum setting and a small cast.  It’s as bloody as most thriller movies we’ve seen but an applied script turns on its axis over and over again.

On an IMAX screen, F1 especially delivers. Yet, while I’m absorbing well staged cuts of movie made racing footage, my mind is turning into comatose mush and the only thing that keeps it electrified is to acknowledge the standard beats.  

Declaring “Gentlemen, START YOUR ENGINES!” will not hold my attention for 200 laps.

Do it with me now:

Fist pump!

Finger fuck!

Muted gasp!

The Of Course!

Now you know the drill! Hit the gas!!! Turn up the volume and let Robert Plant remind you that You need coolin’/Baby I’m not foolin’

JURASSIC WORLD: REBIRTH

By Marc S. Sanders

You’ve seen this movie before.  You likely saw it when you saw the trailer.  

The Jurassic films spawned from Michael Crichton’s ingenious best-selling novel, Jurassic Park (my favorite book of all time), stampede on and on, going on thirty-two years now.  Here is the seventh installment.  Once again, reinvigorated with a new cast and a bankable headliner/former Marvel Avenger.  

All year long, just like the last five films, I’m asking myself again why any of these people are going back to these islands.  Well Rebirth lends as good an answer as any.  Somehow the DNA from three different prehistoric mutated mega beasts will lead to a cure for heart disease.

Reader, from the outset I recognized the familiar pattern.  I knew precisely who was going to survive and who was going to perish before the closing credits arrived.  I got a perfect score, by the way.  Likely, you will too and thus the suspense is very watered down in Jurassic World: Rebirth. Seven times on the merry go round, you should know by now which direction this ride is moving.

Nevertheless, I was hoping against hope that the cure for heart disease will make it for the eventual consumption of human civilization.  The vials of Dino-DNA are collected and stored in an airtight briefcase.  So, while the scant cast of people screams, runs, tip-toes, swims, climbs and falls all over this tropical island, located close to the equator, my eyes were fixated on this medical breakthrough.  

Where are your priorities people? On the kid and her toddler dinosaur friend named Delores?  Come on!!!!! There’s much more at stake here than that or Scarlett Johansson and two-time Oscar winner Mahershala Ali. 

Gareth Edwards (Rogue One: A Star Wars Story) is new director in the franchise and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The visuals of his dinosaur adventure are marvelous if not as impressive as they used to be.  Just like David Koepp’s script shamefully admits, the world no longer cares about dinosaurs as much.  Much of Jurassic World: Rebirth feels like a retread of the same old stuff.  At best, the only inventions left to tackle is to mold new monsters that are of a Frankenstein product.  The animals look fiercer and meaner and toothier and bigger…like way, way bigger.

Edwards and Koepp put the creatures in the ocean and in nestled caverns that have not been depicted as much before.  The sequences are done well but still I felt as if I had seen this movie before.

Not much can be said about Johansson or Ali’s performances.  She’s a high priced, skilled mercenary.  He’s the charter boat captain.  The rest of the cast is just the rest of the cast which includes some ready-to-sacrifice nameless folks gifted with screams to edit within and about five or six lines (one guy is privileged to share his French fluency), a pair of teenagers, an adorable kid and the resident greedy industrialist.  You know who I’m talking about, right?

I’m amused by those who rank the Jurassic movies.  How can you decide what is best or worst anymore?  The blueprints are so identical and the Dino gobbles and Dino chases and Dino roars all blend together for me by now.  If it was a Jeopardy category to identify which movie any scene was from, I’d lose big time and wager little on the Daily Double.

Beyond the first film from Spielberg none of these films are as special to me.  Like Chinese food, I fill up and I go back for more but that’s it.

Still…

Go to the movies.  Keep the cinema alive.  See the new Jurassic World movie and have fun with this new iteration of people going to the restricted island where dinosaurs romp and play.  I enjoyed it even if I never felt overwhelmingly stimulated.  At the very least I enjoyed watching my wife clap when she learned that one character survived.  

Me? 

…and 3…2…1… of course!

A PLACE IN THE SUN (1951)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: George Stevens
CAST: Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor, Shelley Winters, Raymond Burr
MY RATING: 9/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 82% Fresh

PLOT: A struggling young man gets a job working for his rich uncle and ends up falling in love with two women, one rich and one poor.


I first saw A Place in the Sun many moons ago at a friend’s house.  I remember enjoying it but thinking it was too soapy for my taste.  Years went by.  I finally got around to watching Woody Allen’s Match Point and was stunned at how much Allen’s film borrowed from George Stevens’ celebrated melodrama.  Having just re-watched A Place in the Sun, my opinion of it has warmed considerably, without diminishing my admiration for Match Point, which remains one of my favorite films of all time.

A Place in the Sun tells the story of young George Eastman, played by Montgomery Clift at or near the height of his powers.  He’s a bit of a layabout who wrangles a job at his rich uncle’s swimsuit factory.  When George meets his rich relatives, I was reminded of a George Gobel quip: “Did you ever get the feeling that the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?”  That’s George Eastman to a T, a ne’er-do-well in a sea of the well-to-do.

Against company policy, George falls in love (or at least in lust) with a rather plain girl, Alice, played by Shelley Winters in a de-glamorized role that went completely against type at that point in her career, winning her a Best Actress nomination.  Alice and George flirt and hold hands and occasionally neck (mildly scandalous for a 1951 film), but George can’t help but stare at another girl who pops up occasionally: Angela Vickers.  Angela is played by a ravishing Elizabeth Taylor, who was only 17 at the time of filming and empirically one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood, if not the world.  It’s not too hard to imagine any man, let alone poor George Eastman, falling in love with her instantly.

But George is still connected to Alice, especially because he’s already slept with her.  When George learns Alice is pregnant, he despairs because he had been planning to end things with Alice to pursue Angela.  Alice even visits a doctor who might possibly provide an abortion.  Of course, this being 1951, “abortion” is never mentioned out loud, nor is the word “pregnant.”  But Alice’s visit to the doctor is handled with incredible intelligence and brilliant screenwriting that manages to say everything it needs to say without ever uttering those forbidden words.

The rest of the film examines what George may or may not be willing to do for the sake of his love for Angela, who loves him back, it turns out…but she doesn’t know about Alice.  Since this is based on a then-famous novel called An American Tragedy (by Theodore Dreiser), it may not be too hard to divine what is in store for George before the final credits roll, but getting there is the fun part.  By casting heartthrobs as the hero/anti-hero and the rich girl he loves, the film cleverly gets us to root for them a little bit, even when George is considering murder.

While Elizabeth Taylor dominates every scene she’s in just by standing there, the Academy made sure Shelley Winters was recognized for her incredibly difficult performance as Alice.  There are some movies where, if a character is an emotional yo-yo, it can be frustrating.  With Alice, Winters never crossed a line into unlikability, even when she calls George at a fancy dinner party demanding he marry her tomorrow, “or else.”  It’s clear she has no options left to her if she wants to have any semblance of a life in polite society (by 1950s standards, anyway).  I felt bad for her.  But I also felt bad for George – to a degree – when he demonstrates how sincerely he has fallen head over heels for Angela.  Not just because she’s stunningly beautiful, but also because she really seems to have fallen for him, too.

Lately, my movie-watching itinerary of classic films has involved a fair share of outstanding melodramas (Leave Her to Heaven, 1945; The Heiress, 1949; Dodsworth, 1936).  A Place in the Sun fits right into that mold.  It doesn’t quite achieve the perfection of The Heiress, but it is a fantastic example of its genre, good enough for Woody Allen to “reimagine” its basic story for Match Point, so it’s definitely worth a look if you’re into that kind of thing.