Warner Bros. settles lawsuit over 'Lord of the Rings' licensing payments -- latimes.com

Warner Bros. settles lawsuit over 'Lord of the Rings' licensing payments -- latimes.com

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District Nine

The story is fascinating … but the film fails the story!

Frankly, Enemy Mine (1985) did it better, because it did it on a smaller scale.

Peter Jackson’s latest effort, perhaps unconsciously driven by the vistas of “Lord of the Rings” and his stellar reputation, tries to be too big.

It’s hard for me to put into words – as if it were a bowl of vegetable beef soup, with all the right ingredients, but no salt, no seasoning – bland, tasteless. I don’t know what’s missing, but it left me rather cold. It was fascinating to watch, to be sure, but the technique, I think, that of “documentary” – with folks looking right into the camera at times, as they go about the work at hand – never engaged me. In other words, I didn’t care about characters, though the story is clearly a powerful tale of discrimination and we treat “aliens.”

Special effects are astounding, music is terrific, and Sharlto Copley (Wikus Van De Merwe), the “star” (in quotes, because here’s a man who effectively portrays a bureaucrat put into a high-powered position because of his influential father-in-law) is incredibly effective. He’s the perfect nerd trying to be tough, evicting the aliens from District Nine, the classic wimp backed up by guns, to be relocated some 200 miles further away from Johannesburg.

The aliens have been there for 20 years, sequestered, as in Apartheid, after their ship was disabled and they sought refuge here. These intelligent aliens, to our eyes, strange, if not repulsive, are relegated to a slum, and there they live, barely surviving, some of whom are subject to bizarre medical experiments and constant harassment.

During the eviction process, Wikus is exposed to a strange bio-fluid that’s taken years for an alien to create with cobbled parts and old computers – as it turns out, it’s the needed fuel to fire up the command module long buried beneath the slums, to return to the mother ship hovering and unmoving over Johannesburg from the day it arrived.

Within hours, Wikus begins to develop extreme symptoms – apparently alien DNA in the fluid is transforming him into an alien, first growing a hand that can fire alien weapons, a feat that weapons’ developers had been trying to accomplish for 20 years. In other words, Wikus is now worth billions.

But in a feat of strength, he escapes and flees to District Nine.

I won’t tell you the rest of the story – yes, the movie is worth seeing – as the story unfolds, we see what happens when race turns on race – hatred and fear, exploitation and black-marketing, and, as always, it’s the children who suffer.

A story for our times, indeed, but the film fails to deliver the requisite emotion, tension, hope and fear, that such stories inherently hold.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Reviewed by Michelle Welker Scott

Throughout the past five episodes of the Harry Potter series, the young wizarding student has battled evil in the form of basilisks, abusive family members, giant spiders, corrupt authority figures, and – most importantly – He Who Shall Not Be Named.

But in each of these movies, Harry has been an innocent. He’s dispensed his share of violence, of course, and he’s been forced to make many tough decisions, but through it all, he’s maintained a sort of blamelessness. In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, however, Harry becomes less of a victim and more of an instigator. And like Adam and Eve, Harry learns that sometimes good and evil are so closely intertwined that it can be impossible for us mortals to know the difference. If the entire Harry Potter series embodies a coming of age story, The Half-Blood Prince is the pinnacle of Harry’s journey into adulthood.

Not everyone would call this movie a success.

The plot winds around more than the hallways at the Ministry of Magic; even the well-initiated can get lost. But in all fairness, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was a book with a story line so labyrinthine that it could hardly be encompassed by a movie. Even so, the film falls short. Despite the fact that this is one of the better directed pictures of the series (surpassed only by Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), it is still less than a success.
Yet, the movie has its moments.

The humor here is wonderful, revolving around those episodes of teenage angst that plague, or have plagued, all of us. Love is in the air. There are giddy crushes and love triangles; secret admirers and jealousy. Hogwarts is one festering bed of hormones, yet there is nothing lurid or prurient about these encounters; the movie maintains a very sweet and innocent tone. Another bright spot is that director David Yates took great pains to let the teenagers act like, well, teenagers. In this movie, Hogwarts seems more like your local high school and less like the stuffy, too-good-to-be-true, British boarding school. It’s a more real Hogwarts. One that you or your offspring might actually attend.

The most wrenching scene comes when Harry must accompany the headmaster, Dumbledore, on his quest to find a horcrux (an object of dark magic). Before setting off on the journey, Harry swears that he will do whatever the headmaster asks of him, no matter how terrible, and when put to the test, Harry fulfills his obligation.

But his actions come at a great personal cost. In one of the finest bits of acting that the Harry Potter movies have to offer, Harry coaxes, bullies, and eventually forces his beloved teacher to drink every drop of a vile potion in order for the two of them to access the horcrux. It’s a gruesome scene. Perhaps too ghastly for younger viewers. But the book never shied way from depicting the terrible power of evil, and – to its credit – neither does the movie.

The ending will come as a surprise, or not, depending on how well you know the series. Unfortunately, like the rest of the movie, the final scene suffers from an overload of images. Instead of reacting to what is happening on the screen, the audience is scratching its head and asking, ‘huh?’

The Half-Blood Prince is a movie rife with controversy. Devotes of the books argue that the movie takes too many liberties and leaves out too many details. Movie viewers who are unfamiliar with J. K. Rowling’s original series find it confusing and clumsy. But, despite its faults, the book’s spirit still shines through.

Julie and Julia

Butter.

That’s it … that’s what good cooking is all about, along with fearlessness, and that’s what Julie learned from Julia, among many other things, as Julie cooked her way through Julia’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking (1961) and blogged her way through a personal challenge: to do everyone of Child’s 524 recipes in 365 days, along with her government job and a husband who loves her cooking.

The story comes to light when her blog is discovered by New York Times’ food critic, Amada Hesser, August, 2003, and the rest is history.

The story is delightful, and I found the film wonderfully entertaining with plenty of good laughs and the sheer delight of good cooking, though this is NOT a film about cooking. This is a story about two strong, creative women, and the men who love them.

Technically, it’s a fine film: well-scripted and well-acted, with well-chosen music to highlight Paris in the late Fifties and the Queens in the early Nineties.

It was obvious that the actors were enjoying one another and feeling the intensity of story – Julia and Paul in McCarthy-era Paris and Julie and Eric felt in their tiny Queens second-floor apartment above a pizzeria.

I appreciated the references to Senator McCarthy, as Paul Child was “called home” at one point, hoping for a promotion, only to be grilled by a trio of lawyers with a stack of papers on a bare table in a windowless room. In that sad and twisted era (also shown well by Julia’s wealthy Pasadena father who loved McCarthy), Paul Child was just one more suspected Commie-pinko rat who might even be H o m o s e x u a l … what with so many Americans flirting with fascism these days (yes, that’s what the far right is all about), this sub-text story within the story helps us think a bit about such things, without any “preaching” or “moralizing.” Just tell the story, and Nora Ephron’s film does that very well.

Cleared of all charges and sent back to Paris, the film continues about Julia’s efforts, along with her Parisian teachers and friends, to publish a French cookbook for American women who “are servantless” – “Is that a word?” Julia muses; “Well, it is now!

Several reviews have panned Amy Adams (Julie Powell), suggesting that she's overwhelmed by the bright light of Streep’s incomparable acting. NOT AT ALL! Ms. Adams more than holds her own.

I love Meryl Streep, and though I sometimes feel her acting to be, not only overwhelming in its power, but sometimes over the top as well, there was none of that here. Streep captures the essence of Child and holds her energy in check, creating a wonderfully nuanced portrait of a rather simple and boisterous person, tall and witty, slightly out of place in the Fifties and Sixties.

Adams, on the other hand, captures Julie Powell’s Nineties life exceedingly well, bringing to the role her slightly sweet, slightly sour, slightly ironic, personality. Don’t let appearances fool you – her character's not to be trifled with.

And for once, we have a film that shows good marriages – sure, the stresses and strains of life make for powerful drama and even humor, and, yes, many a marriage does go on the rocks. But a film like this helps us all understand that goodness and kindness go a long way, and that, even today, it’s possible to have a good marriage, making room for one another in a slightly self-indulgent era of delayed adolescence, encouraging one another to explore interests and dreams, and sometimes just putting up with one another. Yet, in truth, the contemporary marriage failed; Ms. Powell had an affair and the marriage has sense ended. Yet the film's message remains; it's possible to pull off a marriage, but one has to do so as Julia cooked, with lots of and fearlessness, and who cares if something falls on the floor - pick it up and continue; you're the only one who has to know.

The respective husbands, Paul Child (Stanley Tucci) and Eric Powell (Chris Messina) bring off their roles superbly – they are decent men.

Hats off to Nora Ephron for bringing this part of the story home – no preaching, no moral heavy-handedness … just a good story revolving some very decent people who know how to love and support one another.

And is it true? The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? I suspect it's true for all of us.

So put away the margarine (a terrible invention against body and soul) and bring out the butter (and I recommend Plugra). Near the end of the film, Julie and Eric visit the Smithsonian where Julia’s kitchen is on permanent display, and by a portrait of Julia, Julie leaves a package of first-rate butter.

This is a film worth seeing, right now.

Enjoy it’s lip-smacking delight, as Paul and Julia enjoyed their first meal in Paris, and then go home and start cooking!

G.I. Joe: the Rise of Cobra

After so many years, and all those TV cartoons, we finally have a real Joe movie.

Saw it with my son at Paramount - he's a Joe fan, and website manager, so he was invited to a special screening in the Executive Screening Room at Paramount - about 25 folks sitting comfortably in big red leather chairs ... and he invited his Pop to go along - a pretty good deal.

I loved it, but my son's review is worth the read - click HERE for it.

He critiques it from a fan-boy's point of view, and then the movie itself.

Enjoy the review, and enjoy the movie.

The Hurt Locker

Aren't we all supposed to love our work?

Haven't we all been regaled by preachers and teachers: "Love what you do, and do what you love" "Find a job you love, and then do it with all your heart"?

What happens if you're a professional soldier?

A specialist in disarming bombs? The infamous IEDs of Iraq?

Staff Sergeant William  James (Jeremy Renner) is just such a man. Living on the edge 24/7 - a bag full of bomb pieces - timers, fuses, wiring harnesses - puzzle pieces, souveniers, from earlier assignments - the man is a genius with an uncanny curiosity and confidence. He loves his work, putting himself in harm's way time and again. His own bomb squad is skeptical - is Sergeant James hotdogging it? Putting himself, his team, at risk, with his feats of daring-do?

While on patrol in the bleak countryside of Iraq, the unit comes under sniper fire. Quickly taking cover, and taking a few hits, the unit digs in and begins to look for the source of the sniper fire. They quickly discover a small block building hundreds of yards removed, and now begins a cat and mouse game.

Sergeant James is on the binnoculors - a unit member with a 50 caliber sniper rifle with scope begins to track the snipers - one in the building, the other on the roof. A long hot waiting game begins. The weapon jams; there's blood all over the magazines taken from a fallen comrad. With a measured determination, a strangely detached approach - a job has to be - the Sergeant takes charge of cleaning the magazine.

Loaded and ready, the enemy located, the weapon is fired.

Sergeant James, "You're high and to the left." Adjustments are made - and the first kill of the day is made. More waiting. It's hot - dessert dust coating everything. And then another kill - the final kill of the day, or is it? They wait, and finally Sergeant James says, "We can go home now."

As the days of his tour wind down, we want this incredible specialist do his job - his unit pull together and weather the various storms of the soul.

In one of the most powerful moments of the film, an Iraqi citizen approaches a check point with his arms up, shouting - "I have a bomb strapped to me." And not just strapped, but locked with heavy padlocks - the man is clearly a sacrifical lamb.

The sergeant, dressed in a heavy bomb suit, approaches and calms the man - succeeds in cutting off one of several padlocks, but the whole cage-like affair is just too much. The timing mechanism, a cheap watch, is ticking down. Trying furiously to disarm the bomb, Sergeant James has no more time left in the tangled web of wires. He looks at the man, tells him there's no more time, turns and hurriedly walks away.

With great editing, we watch the Sargeant, from a variety of views, lumber away to safety, while the Iraqi, resigned to his fate, falls to his knees, hands outstretched, praying, the camera on his face - we're there.

In a moment, the man disappears in a violent explosion ... a sad, heart-wrenching moment, but just another moment in this incredible job.

Sergeant James loves his work.

The film shifts to the Sergeant back home, tour ended - with a woman he loves - in a grocery store. She's doing the shopping, but she's asked him to get some cereal, and there he stands, with his empty shopping cart, all alone in the cereal aisle, 10,000 boxes from which to choose - frustrated and bewildered, he finally grabs a box of anything. From the streets and deserts of Iraq to the cereal aisle.

In a few weeks, he says, "They need bomb disposal people." He returns for another year of duty, to the helter-skelter world of Iraq, to this land of adreniline-pumping, death- defying, winning and losing, blood and guts, world of the professional.

 The final scene - dressed in his bomb suit, he's walking down a deserted street toward a bomb - he's alone. A man with job to do. A job he loves.

Without being political, this film successfully explores the world of the professional soldier and what it's like to love a dangerous, violent, job.

The film, lovingly, gives us an insight into the strange world of men and women asked to kill or be killed - living with death, with blood on their hands, metaphorically, and literally, as they cradle a dying comrade in their arms.

The grocery store cereal aisle is as befuddling to them as the streets of Bagdhad would be to us.

I came away from this film with a greater love for the professional army we've created over the years - these people are precious. They are doing a job we've asked them to do, and many of them do what we all try to to do - behind the desk, at the assembly line, wherever - to do what we love, and to love what we do.

And if the news is accurate, we're not doing enough to honor them - forget the schmaltz of parades and medals - I'm talking about taking care of their families back home, for one thing: that housing and medical care for spouses and children would never be a question. That proper armament and everything they need is readily available. That we understand their role and how hard, if not impossible it is for them, to re-enter a civilian world.

We have created a professional army. We have asked them to do a terrible job, and like human beings anywhere, and Americans especially, they love what they do, and they do what they love.

No wonder the suicide rate is so high. The cereal aisile is a dangerous place, a strange and forboding zone in which the professional soldier feels trapped and alone. He's not qualitifed for cereal; he is qualified, more than qualified, to join his unit in war - to face the enemy the politicians have created, and to love what he does and do what he loves.

Can we ask of them anything more?

And can we not do better by all of them?

This is a powerful film with a message about our professional army.

Hats off to Kathryn Bigelow (director) for bringing this fine piece of film-making to the screen. Without romance or schlock, without glorifying anything, she tells a basic story of a man who loves his work!

See it when you can!

Public Enemies

Something is wrong with this film.

It doesn't work very well for me.

Technically, everything is here, and it's all good ... but put it all together, and it's a ho hum film.

I think too much was attempted - it's tough to do a bio-pic - how do you reveal a huge characters like Dillinger and Purvis?

Johnny Depp, of course, as Dillinger ... but the portrait is flawed - too nice a guy - the reality: Dillinger was a killer. I think Depp is a terrific actor, but something didn't click here. The cold-blooded character of a killer didn't emerge. Sure, Dillinger might have been a nice guy now and then, but the raging fires of a troubled childhood and a life of prison and crime never emerges. This is not a role to be played with the elan of "Pirates of the Carribean." Perhaps a bit too cavalier.

Christian Bale as Melvin Purvis, the man who "gets his man" does a far better job then he did in "Terminator." Cool, calm, collected, relentless, and maybe that's the issue for the whole film - just too cool! Bale reminded me of Robert Stack - cool and calculating. A good role for Bale, but again, the characterization lacked fire - Stack had it, so did Kevin Kostner playing Elliot Ness in "The Untouchables." Is this lack of fire a question for the director?

The love between Dillinger and Billie Frechette  (Marion Cotillard) is muted ... somehow or other, the desperation of two lovers in a losing game of life never makes it to the surface - there's no fire, no passion, not even any good old fashioned lust. In every relationship, something is at stake - something vital, powerful, even crazy. But what's at stake here? Was Bille trying to escape a life of being a coat-check girl? Was Dillinger looking for true love? None of that emerges. It's like, okay, so what? Who cares?

As I watched the story unfold, I wasn't rooting for anyone ... too little was at stake.

I think of Ron Howard's "Apollo13" - we all knew how it was going to end, but as the story unfolded, Howard had us all on the edge of our seats. We all suspected that maybe there'd be another ending.

We all know how it's going to end for Dillinger, but no seat-suspense here. No suspicion of another story. No hope that maybe Dillinger and Billie will find true love after all.

As for movie-going enjoyment, can't beat old cars careening through a city, bad guys and good guys standing on the running boards, trench coats streaming, firing away with a Thompson machine gun.

The music is terrific ... I think ... and maybe that's a good sign - I felt the music, as good film music should be.

The sound is awesome - the harsh crash of big caliber weapons ... the sound of prison doors closing ... assorted thuds and bumps ...

The period is beautifully captured  ... but even here, everything seems too stylistic, too clean, more Disneyland than real. I wanted more grit, smoke and dirt; this needed to be a dark film, searchings of the soul - anger, power, hatred - everything here just too cool.   

Clearly, some Oscars here for Michael Mann in terms of technique - maybe sound, maybe music, maybe costuming, but not Best Picture, and I doubt if any of the actors will even be nominated ... but, then, who knows.

The line-up of actors is impressive - how much did Mann pay for this stable?

But the story didn't cut it.

Is this one to see in the theater?

If you're looking for a movie to fill in the gaps, sure.

But otherwise, get it on Netflix.