Monday, October 30, 2017

Great or Overrated - John Williams

John Williams.  When you say his name, more than any other composer ever, most people can name something he composed (usually Jaws or Star Wars or Indiana Jones, occasionally Harry Potter, Jurassic Park, or E.T.).  That, in and of itself, is quite an accomplishment.  Most people can't actually name a piece by Mozart or Bach and if it weren't for Fur Elise and Ode to Joy, Beethoven would be in equal trouble.  But people know John's work.  The real question is, to what does he owe his fame; pure talent or more of a right place/right time situation?
I've asked myself this about many people, Shakespeare, Tolkien, Van Gogh, Streep, Hanks, Nolan, Spielberg, and many more.  Should this particular run down get any sort of attention, I may share some more of my thoughts on which of the above are truly talented, and which just got lucky, but for today, we're just focusing on Williams.
The biggest argument for either case is essentially the same; "John Williams is only famous because he composed the music for some of the most successful movies ever, so more people know his music" opposed to "John Williams composed music that resulted in his movies becoming some of the most successful movies ever."  It's really a cause and effect situation here.  Did Williams' scores lead to the movies' successes or did the movies' successes lead to the popularity of his scores?  There are some movies *cough* Harry Potter *cough* that would have been huge with no help from Willliams.  Though a bad enough score might have been able to ruin the film, any decent score was sufficient to see the film succeed.  Other movies, like Star Wars or Close Encounters or Jaws, were only moderately expected to be successful, and yet they were all incredibly successful.  We can't attribute all of that to Williams, certainly, but it is telling that many of his films that were not necessarily going to be hits still did extremely well. 
That's not to say he never composed a dud.  John Wayne is not especially known for his turn in Williams orchestrated "The Cowboys" nor does everyone love to revisit that Dick Van Dyke classic "Fitzwilly" for the great score by Johnny Williams (yep, he went by Johnny for a while in his early career).   Still, it's been since that Indiana Jones sequel we don't like to talk about that Williams has written a score that hasn't gotten an Oscar nomination (as of 2017).  Okay, so he's an Academy favorite, that doesn't actually make him good, right?
Well, no.  There are plenty of Academy favorites that are overrated, and, more importantly, plenty of artists that don't receive the recognition they deserve from the Academy.  So, it's hard to say that Williams is good just based on the popularity of his music or from the number of Oscars he's racked up (just 5 so far, out of an insane 36 nominations).  So, it looks like we'll have to go and look at the actual product that he delivers, his music.
Film music, in my opinion, has one job: to tell the story.  That's it.  It's not to be beautiful or have a catchy tune or to explore the range of modern musicianship.  It's to tell the story.  Film music does this in two main ways; creating mood and establishing themes.  Mood is created by using the natural character of various harmonies, timbres, and textures to evoke certain emotions in the listener.  A slow, sparse tune on an oboe in a minor key is going to give us a sense of loneliness.  That's due to the nature of certain qualities of the music itself, as well as decades of training that we all receive daily on how to react to music.  You won't hear the oboe solo at a football game as you take the field, because it doesn't match.  Themes are a little easier to understand, a certain melody is played during a character introduction or when a relationship is forming or when a certain idea is discussed and for the rest of the movie, when we hear that music, we think of that character or relationship or idea.  It's probably the easier aspect of film music, but still not always easy.
This brings me to why I think that John Williams is truly great.  He is one of the greatest theme builders, and theme manipulators, in film history.  People will argue that he "borrows" his themes from existing music.  There's some truth to that, but that's not why Williams is great.  John Williams is great because of one thing.  He could rip off everything else he does and this one thing would be enough to make him stand out by itself.  Williams doesn't just use themes like blunt tools to reinforce the story on the screen.  Williams turns his themes into fine instruments.  They shift and evolve and twist in and out of each other to do more than just reiterate what's been said, but to tell something more every time.  Anakin's theme in Phantom Menace ends with the same four or five notes as the Imperial March.  The Jaws theme starts sparse and suspenseful, but it's also used with added orchestration later to create a sense of intensity and excitement.  Hedwig's theme in Harry Potter gets a festive remix to show the passage of time.  Time and again, Williams uses his existing themes in new ways to help tell the story.
Another factor in composer greatness is versatility.  Williams has composed for science fiction, adventure, dramas, fantasy, horror, comedy, and westerns.  He's written for kids and adults, for topics ranging from Christmas to superheroes to the holocaust to classic disney characters.  His versatility is established enough, I can't find much of a gap in it anywhere.  I'm fairly confident he could compose for any film genre without a problem.
So, the verdict is out.  I honestly thought I was going to write that John Williams was definitely a little overrated by the end of this, but here I am, still feeling he's earned his position at the top of his field.  He may be a favorite in the Academy, he may carefully pick his projects so as to not end up with a flop, but at the end of the day, Williams has talent and that can't be denied.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Power Rangers

Okay, so it's always a challenge to reboot something.  It's even more of a challenge to reboot something that's considered a classic piece of pop culture.  It's even more of a challenge to reboot a classic piece of pop culture when the source material is pretty lame.  C'mon, admit it, as a kid the Power Rangers were pretty cool, but the source material really isn't that great when you go back and look at it as an adult.  The characters, story, catch phrases, and more fall squarely in the category of completely and utterly cheesy.  It's not an entirely bad thing, but it's not exactly a masterpiece of true brilliance in any respect (except in merchandizing, you know you still have a couple plastic Power Ranger figurines hiding somewhere).
So, to get to the point, when I heard there was to be a reboot film of the franchise, I was mostly surprised, but also a little curious about what they were planning to do to make it actually still feel cool, even though all the Power Ranger fans of old are now in their 20's and 30's.  Well, not too long ago, I got my answer.  Apparently the plan is to make the hottest kids action series ever into a teen drama.  Aside from a brief car chase, and a really odd training montage, there is literally no action in the first hour and a half of the movie.  I mean, the premise of the characters being in karate class or something together is out, so no one knows how to fight; the challenge that drives the middle of the film is that they don't know how to morph, so they can't really put them in real danger through most of the film, because they can't handle it; and to top it all off, every kid apparently needs an emotional back story, so instead of action we get to know that all of these kids have some struggles that they deal with.  Their teenagers!  Like, are there any teenagers in the world that aren't dealing with some emotional turmoil more often than not?!  So why do we have to explore all of their specific issues.  Oh yeah, because that apparently the only way they can ever get to morph, so it's also the only way we'll ever get to real action.
Okay, rant over.  There actually were some great things about the movie, but I just can't feel that the relatively good production design outweighs the slow pace, the forced use of outdated catch phases, and the fact that Zordon spends most of the movie planning to betray everyone.  Hopefully they fix all those issues in Power Rangers 2, which we all know is coming thanks to the Marvel-esk ending scene/teaser.  The lack of exposition in the future may make for better sequels, but this franchise may be doomed from the moment they picked it up.  Like I said in the beginning, the cards were stacked against them.
So, if you're a big fan of the classic TV show, rent it cheap or find a friend that has a copy and watch it once, but if you don't NEED to see it, I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Split

Like all Unbreakable fans, I was excited at what Split means for the future of David Dunn, but I'm going to say right now something that might disappoint some people.  There should not be more than the one movie that Shyamalan has suggested.  Think about it.  Wouldn't this be the perfect film trilogy?  Most trilogies follow one character as they go from villain to villain, or from encounter to encounter with the same villain.  Instead, this would be an origin story for the hero, then a separate, unrelated origin story for the villain, and finally the showdown finale!  Antagonists often get the short end of the stick when it comes to development, so Split is very exciting from a big picture standpoint.
But what about as a standalone film?
Split has several things going for it, and a few things going against it.  First, there's that whole twist ending thing that is the Shyamalan staple.  There are a few twists along the way, but nothing to freak out about except perhaps the introduction of David Dunn at the end.  The main twist was that Casey is broken enough that the Beast doesn't want her, but anyone trying to understand the Beast's philosophy would know he would at least think twice about her if he knew.  The entire time, we're getting flashbacks, and so we're obviously wondering when the backstory will tie in, so it's no surprise when the Beast is ranting about only the broken being worthy, that he's going to eventually discover she's okay.  So, story-wise, there's not too many surprises, and certainly enough explanation from various characters, especial Dr. Fletcher, to make sure that even the most disengaged of viewers can follow the main idea of the DID (dissociative identity disorder) pros and cons and the various characters feelings about DID.  Its a thrilling, but not too complex, story.
The acting, on the other hand, is certainly on par with any other blockbuster.  This is, almost entirely thanks to James McAvoy.  His range is explored wonderfully, with him changing not just his voice and looks, but subtle mannerisms and posture as well with each new alter.  I enjoyed everything about his performance, and had a hard time remembering it was him at times.  The rest of the cast supported well, with the three girls avoiding some of the hamminess of your typical teen girl in a horror film.
The soundtrack was at times startling, and constantly thrilling, and the production design evoked some of the great suspense work of the past while not quite being familiar enough for me to let my guard down.  Overall, I can't say a lot of bad things about the film.
The biggest complaint I do have, is that it just didn't pull me in.  It seemed like it was trying to make more of the story than it needed.  The story really was about understanding who the Horde is.  We want to be exposed to this villain from all angles, so we see him from the psychiatrist's view, the captive's view, and from his own view.  We see his past, his present, and a glimpse of his future.  We are trying to understand his disorder and the rules it follows as well as his motivations as each alter.  Yet, for all these questions we have, most of them are answered through an explanation, not a discovery, and these explanations are interrupted by several escape attempts by the girls, most of which aren't plausible, and all of which are fruitless.  By far the most interesting thing about this film was the DID and McAvoy's portrail, so why not make your star player shine in the most exciting moments?  Nope, lets only let anything exciting happen when he's not even there.  Rather than escape attempts using coat hangers and air ducts (seriously?), lets have them try to understand the obviously messed up captor, and slowly they come to find what he wants and why, but also some of his weaknesses.  Finally they use his own disorder against him to make a bold escape attempt, but are stopped as the Beast or another personality seizes control just in time to stop them.  I'd have bought that movie.
As it is, I'm planning to wait and see if there's a 3 pack someday with Unbreakable, Split, and the third film once it comes out, and I'll buy it then.  I'll recommend watching it, especially if you liked Unbreakable, but I'm not recommending you drop $20 on the Blu-Ray just yet.  We'll have to wait and see how the sequel plays out before passing more judgement.
And speaking of Unbreakable, that's a must see, and buy if you can find it, so I have high hopes for the final film in the franchise, despite some shortcomings on the part of Split.

Dark Heroes

Anyone that's been paying any attention has probably noticed that Superheroes are getting darker.  This is happening across the board, though the DC cinematic universe is the most obvious, with their recent Batman v. Superman being massively criticized for going too dark.  The trend is also apparent with the MCU and the X-Men, the two other superhero franchises in the top three, with Logan and Civil War being prime examples that no one wants to just make a movie about a good guy doing good things for good reasons.
This trend has popped up every once in a while in the comic world, so there's no reason to be really shocked.  Batman wouldn't even exist if there hadn't been a push for more complex characters in the late 30's, which led to the "Golden Age" of comics.  Interestingly enough, Batman is directly responsible for this shift today as well, in what might be considered the Golden Age of Superhero Movies.  Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy was ground breaking.  It was popularly and critically acclaimed, and put DC on the top of the movie world (albeit for the last time, as of the writing of this post).  It introduced a more grounded, less fanciful, and significantly darker Batman than we got from Tim Burton a decade or so earlier, especially in the second film of the trilogy, where we were faced with some terribly troubling questions about the nature of mankind as the Joker and Two-face terrorized Gotham, apparently without motive.
I, like most everyone, loved the trilogy, and came out of The Dark Knight feeling overwhelmed, but thrilled beyond belief.  Unlike the rest of the world, though, I haven't forgotten another superhero film that was released between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight; a film that also took their hero down a darker path than we'd seen before.  I'm talking about the infamous Spider-Man 3.  I enjoyed it, and Spidey is still one of my all time favorite heroes, but no one can deny there were problems, and the main one was that Peter Parker went to a place where we didn't want him to go.  He was unpleasant as a character when the symbiote was with him, and I'm not just referring to the awkward jazz scene.  He was no more unpleasant than Batman was while he threw himself into obsession over the Joker, but for some reason it worked with Batman, but not with Spiderman.
Here's my theory.  There are heroes that should be dark, there are heroes that can be dark, and there are heroes that should not be dark (or that at least need a really careful handling of them going dark for a very limited run).  More importantly, there are fundamental characteristics that define a hero, and why we love them.  He love Batman because he fights for justice against some great villains, because he has no special powers (except money and ninja skills), and he has a tragic backstory.  We love Spiderman because he's a kid, because he's just trying to to what's right, because he considers his powers to be a responsibility and tries to take that seriously while juggling things like school and girls.  In short, at his core, Peter is a good kid.
This theory explains perfectly why Batman v Superman failed.  Superman is on of those characters that, no matter what, needs to be good at his core.  He can't be morally torn.  He needs to stick to traditional conservative values, not because of some propaganda, but because he represents the traditional America.  Truth, justice, and the American Way, am I right?  It doesn't matter that Hollywood in general is trying to move away from that, it's no longer Superman if my grandfather wouldn't agree with his choices.  In an increasingly amoral, or multi-moral, world, why shouldn't we have a hero that reminds us there was a time when right and wrong were a little clearer, and that it's okay to stand up for what we feel is right no matter what the world around us says.  That's what Superman is to the world, and any breach of that, results in him being poorly received.
So here's the question, is it possible to have the dark heroes that are popular without destroying the truly good characters that are sharing their world?  I think so, and for proof, I once again offer up Spiderman as my example.  I mentioned Civil War as being an example of a darker turn for the MCU.  Turning the heroes against each other will almost always mean making some characters a little less pure than we're used to, and yet, there was one notable exception.  Peter chose to help Tony, not because of some political ideology like the rest of the heroes, but because he admires Tony and wanted to please his idol.  His motives are naive, but pure.  He was the highlight for many viewers of the film and his solo film is one of the most anticipated films this year, an impressive feat for the second reboot and third iteration of the character in a decade.
So, the moral of the story, for any production execs that read my blog (you know you're out there?), is that we need a balance of light and dark.  We need our pure heroes to remain pure, even if it makes them feel outdated.  We need our fun heroes to remain fun, even if they come off a little goofy at times.  We need our dark anti-heroes and we need our brooding emotional vigilantes as well.  There is more than enough material out there that there's a hero to fit each mood, so we really don't need to change any of them.  More importantly, there's enough material out there to show that, in print, the lighter characters can interact with the darker ones without taking away from either.  Lets find more ways to make that happen on film.  We don't need 30 superheroes that are all the same, we need 30 different and unique and interesting heroes.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

An American in Paris

I don't know about you, but I just can't get enough Gershwin or Kelly or even enough classic movie musicals.  I'm a big fan of all the individual elements that make up An American in Paris, so why, oh why, did I not enjoy the film?
Now don't get me wrong, it's not a bad picture.  It's of course got great music and dancing.   It has great sets and art work.  It's not even a terribly bad story, but from the awkward title drop and "no, that's not me" gag in the first few scenes to the less than satisfactory wrap up with our supporting cast at the end, I just felt that, for a Best Picture winner, this film was certainly lacking.  I would have a hard time justifying An American in Paris as the best film of the year when I see it standing next to classics like The African Queen, A Streetcar named Desire, Show Boat, Strangers on a Train, and even The Day the Earth Stood Still and Alice in Wonderland.  I get why it won, but it just goes to show that getting a Best Picture doesn't have any direct relation to whether it's actually the picture that stands the test of time (Vertigo wasn't even nominated for a best picture and it's considered one of the best films of all time).
So, here's my take on An American in Paris: it won because it had style.  It showcased art in a way that really hadn't been done before, and really hasn't been done since.  It (though not actually filmed in Paris) captured the feel of Paris and the art scene as it was pumped full of fresh blood and fresh ideas after the war.  It painted a world where even the most out of luck artists and performers can make the big time, and find true love all at the same time (we know the academy just can't resist a story about young artists struggling to make it).  It certainly was a work of art visually, which I won't deny.  My concern is that there's pretty terrible writing to back up the performance.
The story is fair at best, and the plot seems to be designed to move from song to song rather than the songs naturally fitting into the story.  Our classical musician that argues that jazz can't compare to the classics so that we can sing "By Strauss!" is found throughout the rest of the film to be singing the Gershwin classics with everyone else.  An English lesson leads to "I Got Rhythm".  We even use a dream sequence to randomly throw in a concerto piece.  It's a challenge when writing a film for already written music, but Kelly's next big film, Singing in the Rain (which didn't even get a best picture nomination at all), does a much better job with fitting in everything with the story (though admittedly, there are still issues).
So, my recommendation would be to take the opportunity to watch An American in Paris if it presents itself, if you're a big classic musical fan, you may even opt to buy it, but I wouldn't pay full price if I can avoid it.  I would spend a little time reviewing the featured artists from the film before watching, because the finale just isn't the same without a little back ground.  If you want the same experience without a trip to your local art school, watch Singing in the Rain, then listen to the Best of Gershwin afterwards.  You'll be spared the struggles of the film and left whistling the same tune, plus you'll get a little more Rhapsody in Blue, so, win-win.

Arrival

It's not everyday that a sci-fi film gets nominated for a Best Picture Oscar, so I had to check out Arrival to see what made it so special.  Sure enough, it was excellent, with a great production design, fabulous cinematography, a trio of top of the line actors, clever non-linear story telling (which ties nicely into the plot, but if you haven't seen it yet, I won't say more than that), and, above all, a story that is as relatable as they come, despite being about communicating with aliens to prevent the world tearing itself apart.
For those of you that don't know, Arrival explores one of the most overlooked facets of space travel - communication.  Most science fiction takes place in a galaxy with universal translators or babel fish or where there's been enough space travel that everyone's adopted a universal language or, my favorite, when the aliens go all Pocahontas and become fluent in English after just moments of exposure to the language.  I've always enjoyed episodes like Darmok from Star Trek TNG that explore the difficulty of communicating with an alien race, but I also understand that isn't usually practical.  Can you imagine if every episode of Star Trek was a two parter, with the first part being just trying to understand the local language and the second part telling the actual story.  More realistic, probably.  More entertaining, certainly not.
So, it's nice when we're treated to a more in depth exploration of what communication between two alien species might look like.  Especially interesting is the fact that the two species in Arrival (humans and heptapods) can't physically make the sounds that are required to communicate verbally, so they're forced to resort to writing.  The heptapods writing looks like a ring left by a paper cup that you accidently set in some ink, and includes a complete thought in each character, rather than a single sound or word like earth languages.  It's visually captivating and surprisingly gripping trying to follow the processes of drawing out understanding of earth writing and translating the new language, but beneath it all, Arrival is setting up the audience to ask some of the most serious questions of humanity.
As with many sci-fi film, we get to see that humanity is far less trusting of the unknown than we'd probably like to be.  Several franchises have suggested that an alien visit would unite humanity, but Arrival suggests that each country will want to be the one that takes the right action, so, though we may attempt to cooperate at first, it may not take long before every one has decided their approach is best and shut themselves off from the rest of the world.  The most interesting question however, relates to flashes we receive of our main character struggling with the death of her daughter.  The central question of the film is, if you could see all the pain that will be part of you future, would you change anything to avoid it if you could also see all the joy?  The films makes the case that we would still choose to live the hardest moments of our life if we knew the trade off was losing the most joyous moments of our life.  What do you think, would you be willing to suffer the worst of your life if you could relive the best?  I know I would.
Well, to sum up, Arrival is a thought provoking and visually rich film which definitely merits a viewing.  I'll leave it up to you whether you purchase it, as it's not necessarily something you'll want to watch over and over again, but it will be a film that sticks with you, so even one viewing should certainly be worthwhile.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Beauty and the Beast

So, this past weekend I was please to attend the first showing in my hometown of the remade Beauty and the Beast.  As we're hopefully all aware, the original Beauty and the Beast was groundbreaking for animation.  It not only was incredibly successful, spawned a couple sequels and a broadway play, and is possibly the single greatest highlight from the Disney Renaissance (The Lion King might top it in my book, but that's a debate for another time), but above all, Beauty and the Beast was, and always will be, the very first animated film nominated for an academy award for best picture, and the only other animated nominations were after the academy expanded the category, so there's that, too.
So, Beauty and the Beast was near perfect, and, as we all know too well, Hollywood can't leave well enough alone, so we got a remake.  Okay, so that was a little cynical, but if you can't be cynical about cinema, what can you be cynical about, right?  Disney has been hit and miss on their live action remakes, with emphasis on the miss unfortunately.  Cinderella was nice, but forgettable.  Maleficent missed an opportunity to develop the greatest and, perhaps, most complex villain ever, in favor of making her relatable and a tragic character.  The Jungle Book paired incredible visual effects with Christopher Walken and Bill Murray... umm... singing?  I can't think of a better word for it, but it ruined an otherwise exceptional film.  I still prefer the first Disney live action Jungle Book remake.  Pete's Dragon (though live action originally, I'll still including it), was clever, original, and heartfelt.  So, it seems that Disney is getting better, but still struggling to find the balance between paying homage to the original, while creating something new and unique.  My theory is you either need to go all in or not at all.  As far as making a true remake, Beauty and the Beast goes all in.
Much of the film is, line-for-line, shot-for-shot, a recreation of the classic we know and love.  Seeing the exact images from the animated version come to life is immensely rewarding.  It would, of course, be tedious to sit through an entire film with no surprises or anything even a little unexpected, though, so there had to be some departures from the original.  Expectedly, Disney decided to fill in some background and more thoroughly flesh out their characters.  We learn more about the prince, the curse, Belle and her family's past, and even Gaston gets a backstory.  Unexpectedly, Disney also closed a couple plot holes.  Something as simple as Belle asking the beast to get up after he collapses following the wolf attack scene could have been ignored, but Disney really surprised me by adding little things here and there that clarify and simplify the film.  None of the additions seemed out of character, nor did they seem excessive.  Still, there were enough new bits to keep the film feeling fresh and exciting.
For many, the most significant addition was the inclusion of Disney's first officially gay character.  Now, I don't think it did much to affect the film to any degree.  As a matter of fact, between LeFou's confusion over what he really wants and the slightly homophobic moment during the Gaston song and the fact that most of the most "gay" moments are played for laughs, I would say that the supporters of traditional marriages and families should be happy with this film as much as the supporters of LGBT rights.  When a controversy plays out prior to a films release, it's usually just for the free publicity, and I can say that, for this film, the implications about the first gay character in a leading Disney role was purely for hype and not pertinent to this film at all.  I don't intend to belittle those that view this as more significant, but I honestly believe that if there weren't a statement from the director about LeFou being homosexual, then few people would have been shocked at the theaters.
As a side note, for those of you wanting to boycott the film because of the supposed support for the LGBT agenda, a word of advice.  Going out and saying, "I'm not going to watch this movie because it's gay," is like when you tell your friend, "hey, don't taste that stuff, it taste terrible."  What does your friend do, he tastes it, and says, "wow, that really is awful."  You're providing advertising for free for a movie you're trying to shut down.  If you really want to send a message to Disney, you should do the following.  For the next couple weeks, talk up Lego Batman and share how excited you are to see Boss Baby.  Ignore Beauty and the Beast and boost sales of it's competitors.  Kong: Skull Island and Logan would be great alternatives as well, though less family friendly, they have the potential to pull sales away from Beauty, too.
Anyways, back to the movie.  I can't leave this post without mentioning the score.  Obviously, the majority of the score was straight from the original, but there were several new songs added, which certainly have potential to become classics (not to mention they resisted the urge to do "Human Again").  The choice that really made this film, in my opinion, was the choice to bring back the legendary Disney songwriting team of Alan Menken and Tim Rice.  Menken wrote the music to the original score with lyricist Howard Ashman.  Rice worked with Menken on Aladdin after Ashman passed away.  Menken currently has more Oscars than any living person and is among the reasons the Disney Renaissance happened.  I can't get enough of his latest work, and how beautifully he weaves the new material with the old.  I'm particularly smitten with "Evermore", a powerful, moving, heart-wrenching solo sung by the Beast, Dan Stevens.  It describes the lingering affect of love even when the one you love is no longer there, and features some powerful vocals from an amazing singer.
Well, that's Beauty and the Beast.  I didn't even mention the excellent ensemble cast, so there's plenty more for you to enjoy as you view it yourself.  It is absolutely scoring a must buy rating from me, and I recommend the same for all fans of the original classic film.  This was the highlight of my spring break this year and I hope in can be a highlight for all of you, whenever you are lucky enough to watch it.