REVIEW: Me and Orson Welles

11 03 2013

Films about filmmakers often teeter on a precarious line.  If they want the viewer to appreciate that director or star, then they have to encapsulate their skill or charm in a way befitting of their name.  For example, “Hitchcock” worked because it evoked the joy of watching an old Hitchcock classic, and “My Week with Marilyn” was light fun because Michelle Williams captured the ethereal grace of Marilyn Monroe.

On the flipside, “Hugo” (though I know I’m in the minority) feels unsuccessful because it doesn’t quite reproduce the magic of the early days of cinema it so gushingly tributes.  Similarly, Richard Linklater’s “Me and Orson Welles” fails to pay proper homage to Orson Welles’ genius by not having any ingenuity of its own.  I mean, at least “Hugo” was sweet and entertaining.  This is not so lucky.

This biography is saved from being unwatchable by Christian McKay’s spirited portrayal of Welles, pre-”Citizen Kane” glory.  The movie takes place during Welles’ days on the stage, directing a visionary production of Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar.”  But from the urgency and dignity granted it by Linklater, you would think it was a community theatre production of “Godspell.”

The biopic also suffers from Welles being far from in focus.  Granted, “My Week with Marilyn” was about Eddie Redmayne’s Colin Clark being romanced by Monroe, but it knew who the main character was.  ”Me and Orson Welles” can’t really decide if McKay’s Welles is the protagonist or if it’s Zac Efron’s Richard Samuels, a teenage actor swept into the production.  Of course, they both vie for Claire Danes’ Sonja, a production assistant on the show.

So there’s a bit of a love triangle, a bit of a coming-of-age story, AND a portrait of an artist all colliding in “Me and Orson Welles.”  If these different aspects were layered, perhaps the movie would work.  But it’s just a muddled mess that reeks of ambivalence and indecision rather than the bold, brash brilliance of the real Orson Welles.  C- / 1halfstars


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REVIEW: Abduction

28 02 2013

A lot of people were looking to “Abduction” as a test of whether Taylor Lautner could carry a movie on his own.  Away from the comforts of the “Twilight” saga where Lautner could just rip off his shirt and no one seemed to mind, would he be a viable action star?  Or is Lautner nothing more than a set of good-looking abs, destined to have girls drooling on Tumblr for all of eternity?

The quick answer to that is no, and “Abduction” is an abysmal movie that struggles to be so bad that it’s good at times.  The ridiculous romance, the half-baked plot, and the characteristic Lautner sporadic shirtlessness definitely provide some fun moments of unintended laughter.

And most people pinned the failure of “Abduction” on Lautner.  That’s not fair.  Everyone else in this movie was just as bad.

Looking at you, Lily Collins.  My goodness gracious, she grated on my last nerve.  Maybe with enough training in an acting studio and not in a gym, Lautner could be a half-decent actor one day in the way that Channing Tatum surprised us all in “21 Jump Street.”  I don’t know that I have the same hope for Collins.

I’ll hold back on some extremely harsh words for her, but know that she tried really hard to put on her big girl panties.  However, Collins just falls face first into the pavement, and no one bothered to tell her that her face is busted up and she’s bleeding everywhere (in a strictly hypothetical sense, I mean).

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REVIEW: In Time

27 02 2013

The concept behind “In Time” is actually fairly interesting, and maybe that’s why I was willing to overlook some of the film’s shortcomings.  In a dystopian ultra-classist 2169, people stop aging at 25, and living any longer than that requires you to literally buy time.  Extra time seems to come from just one extra strong and special handshake.

Such a kind of transfer begs the question of why people don’t just go steal it from the rich people why they sleep.  Or why people don’t just use tight grips or shake with superglue.  Needless to say, the broad strokes of inspiration blinded writer/director Andrew Niccol to the many plot holes in this world.

Watching the movie from a post-Occupy world certainly highlights this extreme case of social inequity as the rich live forever and the poor die young.  From my sociology classes in college, I can tell you that inequality is corrosive for society and poverty is quite literally a lethal force.  ”In Time” is very conscious of these things and holds an interesting mirror up to the audience watching the film.

Sadly, that mirror is fogged up by some sloppy storytelling and a plot that ultimately can’t sustain beyond the novelty of the “time as life” concept.  The characterization is decent, but the cast of good looking actors who can still pass for 25 – including Justin Timberlake, Amanda Seyfried, Cillian Murphy, Olivia Wilde, Matt Bomer, and Alex Pettyfer – don’t do much to elevate the material.  The intelligence of the social commentary ultimately gives way to a fairly standard action film, but the themes raised in the beginning are enough to make me feel that “In Time” was not entirely wasted time.  B- / 2stars


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REVIEW: Monsters

25 01 2013

MonstersGareth Edwards, helmer the latest reincarnation of the Godzilla franchise, is about to work with monsters on a very big scale (and budget).  However, if you want to see the skill and directorial poise of Edwards on a more modest, personal level, there’s no other option than to check out his debut film, “Monsters.”

It’s not quite found-footage, but “Monsters” offers you the intimacy that the emerging subgenre always attempts to provide and usually fails to deliver.  Edwards makes the rare movie whose exposition might be more complicated than the story.  But if you decide to take the plunge into his subtly nightmarish world, you’ll discover that such simplicity of story is a noble quality, not a flaw.

The film follows the journey of Scoot McNairy’s Andrew Kaulder, a photojournalist sent down to Mexico to recover and return his boss’ daughter, Whitney Able’s Samantha Wynden.  And no, his search for her is not the main plot of the film.  In fact, he finds her within the first 10 minutes.

The titular monsters barely appear, and when they do late in the film, it’s anti-climatic and not exactly thrilling or terrifying.  ”Monsters” is a movie about the effects of these creatures, extra-terrestrials who landed in Mexico six years before the events of the film.  There’s now a large “infected zone” that Andrew and Samantha have to pay a great deal to go around – or risk their lives to go through.

There are, of course, some allegorical implications for the alien invasion (creatures that Americans try to confine in Mexico by a giant fence along the border, anyone?).  But the thrill of “Monsters” is not in the political but in the personal.  It’s fascinating to watch the natural relationship and rapport develop between Andrew and Samantha in ways that are subtly affected by the presence of these monsters.  Though watching them becomes slowly less and less interesting as the movie progresses, the clever and subversive filmmaking on display from Gareth Edwards makes this 90 minutes fairly well spent.  B / 2halfstars


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REVIEW: Stone

24 01 2013

The fact that Edward Norton is in cornrows for “Stone” should tell you about how seriously you need to take this movie.  Which is to say, not at all.

Don’t get me wrong, Norton has played a shaved skinhead in “American History X” and a tough-as-nails convict in “25th Hour.”  But those were … well, characters.  He took them very seriously, gave them humanity, and we responded.  Norton’s titular arsonist feels like an attempt to impersonate Steve Carell’s Prison Mike from “The Office.”   Perhaps this was his audition for Wes Anderson’s “Moonrise Kingdom?”

The rest of the movie also unintentionally plays out like a comedy as well.  DeNiro, in yet another role that reminds us just how long ago “Raging Bull” really was, plays Jack Mabry, a correctional officer about to retire.  Yet he’s no match for Stone and his siren of a wife, Milla Jovovich’s Lucetta.

As Jack contemplates one of his final parole cases, he finds himself torn by passion for Lucetta.  You know, despite their large age difference.  And the fact that he’s married to a loving wife.  And of course, she’s married to the man whose fate lies in his hands.

The whole movie is as laughable as Norton’s hair.  Plausibility goes out the window as one of the most absurd love triangles in cinematic history takes flight in “Stone.”  The whole enterprise should be avoided as much as prison itself.  D / 1star


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REVIEW: Promised Land

23 01 2013

Gus Van Sant has called “Promised Land” his attempt at Capra, which is a noble thing to aim for – and it has certainly been largely MIA in today’s cinema.  But his film is hardly “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” a truly inspiring extolling of the virtues of the common American.  Even when you factor in adjusting the tale for our grayer, more morally relativistic culture, it still falls well short.

“Promised Land” aims for pro-small town goodness but winds up being mostly anti-corporate.  Matt Damon and John Krasinski, both the stars and writers of the film, spend most of their efforts vilifying the businessmen.  The homely townspeople, on the other hand, merely speak in vaguely familiar talking points that make them really only function for the sake of the narrative.

And I think that’s a lost opportunity for the movie to really make a great case against natural gas fracking.  As Leonardo DiCaprio’s Cobb postulated in “Inception,” positive emotion trumps the negative every time.  Maybe if we cared more for the well-being this tiny agrarian Pennsylvania town, we would come out of the movie and call our Congressman.  But all that Damon and Krasinski convince us is that businessmen are vile leeches who will go to any lengths possible to suck all the natural gas out of the ground – with as much cost to the environment as necessary to provide little cost to them.

Eventually, I believe we will look back at “Promised Land” as an interesting relic in the ongoing saga of the United States’ quest for energy independence and climate control.  The film lands at a critical nexus in our culture, where it makes sense to revive the economy and decrease our dependence on foreign oil and fossil fuels by fracking the natural gas underneath our own soil.  Yet the process is so unrefined at the moment that it can cause vast environmental damage.  You know, just never mind what it does to social capital because Damon and Krasinski are only seeing green – the color of money and the color of the environment.

But they make a mild and familiar argument within a generic framework to convey their message.  Perhaps their passion would have been best channeled into a documentary.  Although non-fiction films rarely reach large audiences, those movies can be as polemical as they want because that’s often what they are designed to be.  (For an example of how they could have frightened you with the horrifying truth, look to “Gasland.”)  What they settled on in “Promised Land” just feels like preaching to the converted; I don’t think it has the narrative or emotional strength to create any new believers.  C+ / 2stars


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REVIEW: Hyde Park on Hudson

22 01 2013

Welcome to “Whose Movie Is It Anyway?” – also known as “Hyde Park on Hudson.”  Here, you’ll get to see a multi-million dollar production that shows you what a movie is really like at the stage where it’s still being scribbled out on cocktail napkins!  To call it a first draft of something great would be generous – that is, calling it a first draft would be generous.  It hasn’t even made it to that stage yet!

Roger Michell’s slapdash film changes protagonists throughout the entire movie like Britney Spears changes outfits at a concert.  Go to the bathroom, and you’ll come back and find an entirely different storyline being pursued.  One minute, it’s the story of Laura Linney’s Margaret Suckley, a cousin of FDR portrayed here as his mistress (though that’s based on an extremely loose interpretation of her personal letters).

Then, it’s also a biopic of President Roosevelt, played as a perpetually horny tortoise by Bill Murray.  Chronicling both the personal and the political aspects of his life, it fails to provide anything mildly interesting to observe.  Not to mention, doubts about the accuracy of his affair with Margaret put the entire movie’s validity in question.

Oh, and don’t forget the history lesson that makes up most of the mid-section of “Hyde Park on Hudson.”  The King and Queen of England comes to visit FDR’s private Idaho in New York, but sadly, this companion piece to “The King’s Speech” couldn’t land Colin Firth and Helena Bonham Carter to reprise their roles.  Nor, for that matter, could it capture the same sense of gravity about an impending world war that Tom Hooper’s film conveyed so well for a film that was otherwise rather lightweight.

In essence, there are three movies in “Hyde Park on Hudson,” and you will feel it drag under the weight of that confusion.  Expect to feel like you’ve watched three full-length features … but come out only an hour and a half later from the theater.  And don’t expect some kind of great convergence that makes it all worthwhile.  The climactic scene all boils down to the consumption of hot dogs.  Not kidding.  D / 1star


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REVIEW: Pirate Radio

21 01 2013

Musical theatre thrives on the creative sparks of others.  Not to diminish the many accomplishments of that art form, but in recent years, just about everything has been an adaptation.  (Except “The Book of Mormon” – you go Trey Parker and Matt Stone!)  Many have been taken from books, but recently, the trend has become to adapt films onto the stage.

One of the greatest advances has been the invention of the “jukebox musical,” where a story forms around immediately recognizable music, whether a fictional tale like “Mamma Mia!” or a biographical one such as “Jersey Boys.”  (It also gave us “Rock of Ages,” but we can pretend it didn’t.)

Before you ask, no, “Pirate Radio” is not an adaptation of a Broadway or a West End musical.  There’s plenty of music, but the record player does all the singing.  However, I felt that while watching Richard Curtis’ film, it was practically BEGGING to be staged as piece of musical theatre.  The music is phenomenal, and there’s so much capability for it to define a generation – because it does.

The story of the film isn’t all that interesting: banned from playing rock and roll on normal British airwaves, a group of rebels broadcast it in international waters.  The gang is full of eclectic types, ranging from characters played by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Bill Nighy to then unknown Chris O’Dowd (the cop from “Bridesmaids“).  There’s little character or story development, and when the boat finds itself in peril, I could have cared less what happened to whom.  Not to mention that it feels interminable even at 20 minutes shorter runtime from its British release under the name “The Boat That Rocked.”

But with some slight tweaking of the story – a little bit less of the people on the boat, a little bit more of the people on land, the same amount of the government censors led by an uptight Kenneth Branagh – “Pirate Radio” could actually play quite well on stage given the caliber of music.  Think about it … and I’d like to request royalties if it happens because of this review.  C / 2stars


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REVIEW: Mud

19 01 2013

Cannes Film Festival 2012 / Sundance Film Festival 2013

(NOTE: I saw “Mud” at the first showing in Cannes last May.  I have no idea if the movie being shown in Utah is the same one I saw in France.  I have some lingering suspicion it might have been reworked and tweaked a little bit since it disappeared from the festival circuit for eight months.)

Third features are, for most filmmakers, really the first time we can gauge their capabilities and career trajectory.  A debut film is, well, a debut film.  Unless you are Orson Welles, whose first film “Citizen Kane” is the best of all-time to many, the first time behind the camera is rarely one that produces much beyond the promise of great things.  While many directors break out with their second film, some would consider that they still have the training wheels on the bike.

By the third film, however, we generally stop cutting them slack or grading them on a curve.  It’s do or die, make or break.  If you haven’t quite figured out how to make a good movie, perhaps it’s time to consider a career change.  Just to provide some perspective, Scorsese’s third film was “Mean Streets,” Spielberg’s was “Jaws,” Malick’s was “The Thin Red Line,” Jason Reitman’s was “Up in the Air,” and Ben Affleck’s was “Argo.”

Jeff Nichols, an emerging American filmmaker, made his first two movies with a very independent spirit.  His debut, “Shotgun Stories,” had an interesting concept but was poorly executed.  His second film, “Take Shelter,” was a superb ambiental drama that effectively visualized the state of economic and personal anxieties in the age of the Great Recession.  But his third feature, “Mud,” is so different that it almost feels like a first film.

With “Mud,” Nichols makes what I believe to be a very conscientious leap towards the mainstream.  It definitely plays more towards satisfying audience expectations with familiar storyline and aesthetics, not jarring them with the uncomfortable or the unknown.  And there’s nothing wrong with that; he’s fairly adept at capturing that boyish spirit in the coming-of-age movies that Steven Spielberg among others made so well in the 1980s.  But after the brilliance and originality of “Take Shelter,” I was hoping Nichols would not just fall in line.

And to reiterate, I don’t disdain “Mud” simply for daring to be similar.  It’s still quality filmmaking, but it feels more like a harbinger of things to come than something substantial in and of itself.  This transitional film is too populist to be indie; however, it’s also a little too indie to be truly mainstream.  I don’t usually talk about forces competing for the soul of a movie, yet it feels totally relevant for “Mud” as these two entirely different spirits of filmmaking run amuck throughout the movie.  Each claims a scene here or there, and the ultimate victor is unclear.

I would argue that the real winner of “Mud” are the characters, written with love and care by Nichols and brought to the screen with compassion by the cast.  Matthew McConaughey, the new king of career turnaround, beguiles as the titular character Mud.  He fancies himself an urban legend, an almost mythic figure of sorts.  Yet it’s fascinating to watch the man slip out from underneath his tough facade and see his guilt and shame manifested.

Though the movie is named for his character, Jeff Nichols’ film isn’t really about Mud.  It’s about the two boys, Ellis (Tye Sheridan from “The Tree of Life,” albeit totally changed since that film was shot so long ago) and his sidekick Neckbone (Jacob Lofland), who stumble upon Mud hiding out in a boat in the trees.  While Mud drives the narrative forward, the movie’s real story and power comes from the way those events affect these two adolescents.

“Mud” mainly follows Ellis as he navigates a new world, one where nothing seems clear-cut or black and white.  Mud teaches him what love and trust really are when they are together away from society, and then he reemerges to find alternative meanings of such concepts.  Sheridan lends a real authenticity to the struggles of growing up and realizing hard truths in a performance that evokes Henry Thomas’ Elliott in “E.T.,” a movie that feels like quite a kindred spirit of “Mud.”

To tap into a fraction of what Spielberg achieved is quite an achievement.  Now, it’s time for Nichols to relocate his old voice of originality and create a work just like “Mud,” only with that old aesthetic brilliance and creativity.  B / 2halfstars


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F.I.L.M. of the Week (January 18, 2013)

18 01 2013

When you think of the films of Spike Lee, I can imagine some of the things that come to mind are didactic, pugnacious, and aggressive political commentary.  In other words, you would think of a movie that looks nothing like ”Inside Man,” a tight thriller about the perfect bank robbery.  But precisely because it resists the trappings of a typical Spike Lee movie, it’s my pick for the “F.I.L.M. of the Week.”  (And also because it’s an AWESOME movie!)

You’ve seen plenty of movies about bank robbers, but none quite like Clive Owen’s Dalton Russell.  He’s got a master plan to pull off the perfect heist, one that slowly and cryptically unveils itself in Spike Lee’s film.  Russell is interested in more than just getting quickly in and out with the money; he’s willing to play the long game with the police and the hostages in unconventional ways.  The tension is high as you wait to see when, if ever, his master plan will unravel.

Remarkably, it manages to hold up as some curious players with some very powerful ulterior motives enter the fray.  Namely, there’s the wild-card of Jodie Foster’s power broker tampering with everything she can to keep some secrets hidden inside the bank.  With so many people operating in the shadows and shades of grey, it makes the the quest of the righteous Detective Keith Frazier (Denzel Washington) all the more urgent and compelling.

There’s rarely a dull moment in “Inside Man,” and Lee manages to pull it off without ever needing to pull out a boombox and blare “Fight the Power.”  There’s a little bit of commentary on multiculturalism in New York, but it’s hands-off and not particularly distracting from the point of the film.  Which is, of course, to entertain for two hours and then yank the rug out from underneath the audience.


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SAVE YOURSELF from “Red State”

17 01 2013

Red State

Two years ago, one of the hottest properties at Sundance was Kevin Smith’s “Red State.”  The narrative unfolded as usual: high-profile premiere, studios deliberate buying it, bidding war commences.  Afterwards, however, Smith sold the movie to himself … for $20 causing a big hubbub and quite a few eye-rolls and head-shakes.

It was an attempt to make a statement on how backwards the studios’ distribution systems really are and how hard it is for filmmakers to tell the story they want.  But honestly, could there have been a worse movie for anyone to make that claim with?  If the studios keep all movies like “Red State” from getting made or distributed, you might not be too upset about that after actually watching the film itself.

It’s an absolutely dreadful movie that has no class or restraint.  Smith critiques the Westboro Baptist Church, the notorious anti-gay protestors led by Fred Phelps, as a bunch of backwards ignoramuses – as if the rest of the world didn’t already know that.  Perhaps a parody or a spoof would have been the more appropriate vehicle.  Though I’ve never seen “Clerks” or any of Smith’s other films, I’ve heard he’s quite the humorist.

This is the kind of unintentional humor that usually plagues bad movies such as these.  I’m sure some of it might have been planned, in which case Smith proved himself to be a poor imitator of Quentin Tarantino’s darkly comedic talents.  I think he probably wishes “Red State” was something like “Inglourious Basterds” with gratuitous violence aplenty dealt out to the hated villains.

And I suppose it’s a fairly vile turn from Michael Parks as the Fred Phelps surrogate, but it’s not like I got any satisfaction out of seeing all the massive bloodshed done to him and his lunatic disciples.  Mainly, I just wanted to see the conclusion of the horror story at the core of “Red State,” featuring Michael Angarano and his two buds following a sex ad but leading them to the Five Points Trinity Church. But by the time ATF shows up, all narrative and story are thrown out the window to let the bullets fly.  Oh, and there’s also some criticism of the corrupt government at the end that just feels totally out of place given the rest of the film.

When the dust settles, all that’s left are a lot of corpses and a lingering disappointment in the air.  Nothing to cheer about there.  And for the record, I don’t think I’d buy this movie for 20¢.


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REVIEW: The Impossible

16 01 2013

The ImpossibleI can never imagine the pain and the agony of being put through nature’s crucible, but I can gain an ever so slight taste of it from movies that can bottle up their terror.  The latest of such is “The Impossible,” which ripped a hole in my stomach in a way no movie has since “127 Hours.”  Juan Antonio Bayona’s gut-punch of a movie takes us through the incredible journey of one separated family during the 2004 Southeast Asian tsunami, and boy, does it pack on the pain.

The film begins with an uneasy exposition, introducing us to the Bennett family that has come to Thailand for Christmas to release some steam from their hectic lives.  Just like in any movie headed towards disaster, you grit your teeth waiting for the inevitable to arrive.  With the dramatic irony escalating as they idyllically enjoy the calmness of their resort, the nervous waiting for these people to be thrown into hell on earth builds up.

And then when the tsunami hits, our first sign of devastation is a primordial wail from Maria, Naomi Watts’ benevolent matriarch, as she hangs onto a tree for dear life.  It’s a moment of paralyzing hopelessness that reverberates strongly and affectingly, setting the tone for what is to be a movie with a new agony at every turn.

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REVIEW: The White Ribbon

15 01 2013

The White RibbonI like to fancy myself somewhat adept at interpreting the meaning of movies, but sometimes, I get stumped just like everyone else.  It happened to me in “A Serious Man,” though with the proper context, some light has been shed on the directorial intent.  I was also pretty perplexed by Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master,” although I could sense vast levels of interpretation bubbling beneath the surface.

Michael Haneke’s “The White Ribbon,” on the other hand, has me totally bamboozled.  I have absolutely no idea what it’s really about.  Sure, ostensibly, it’s a movie following a pre-World War I German town as they are terrorized by a series of strange deaths.  But I don’t think Haneke means it to be taken at face value.  No one of that stature just makes a movie set in the past and means it to be just that.

The story, though extremely slowly revealed, is rather interesting.  I could scarcely keep track of the ten trillion villagers, much less give you any of their names, but I was always able to follow the events.  However, I was just blindsided by the ending – or lack thereof, making me doubt if I really understood what had happened in the movie’s first two hours.

I was a little angry that I left the movie with no sense of resolution, catharsis, or finality.  And perhaps that was what Haneke was trying to achieve with “The White Ribbon.”  But in a strange way, I almost feel like the film isn’t over, like I’m just missing the last chapter or something.  It’s the same way I feel about “Lost,” one of my favorite television shows of all time – even though I still haven’t watched the last season, perhaps because I don’t want it to end.

Certainly, I would like to be freed from the not-so-nagging frustration of not knowing quite what “The White Ribbon” is.  And maybe in a few years, I’ll re-enter that world of haunting visuals, intricate scripting, and deliberate direction.  Though I’m not sure if I will emerge with any sense of closure, after one rewatch or several.  B / 2halfstars


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REVIEW: Hope Springs

14 01 2013

Hope SpringsBe careful, for “Hope Springs” is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

David Frankel’s comedy disguises itself as a comedy in the vein of “It’s Complicated” where Meryl Streep has issues with her sex life.  But it’s anything but that.  Laughs are sparse, unless you find uncomfortable erotic fantasies being spouted by Tommy Lee Jones to be uproarious.

Instead, “Hope Springs” plays like “Blue Valentine” with an AARP card.  We see Streep and Jones’ married couple, but there’s no love or passion anymore.  Sure, they are held together by their children, their house, and 31 years of commitment.  But they don’t touch each other, kiss each other, or even sleep in the same bed anymore.

I suppose it’s effective as a drama, largely because the dynamic is devastating and depressing between the couple in question.  Channeling some of his Oscar-nominated performance as Thaddeus Stevens in “Lincoln,” Tommy Lee Jones constantly bullies his wife into submission and silence.  And when that wife is America’s sweetheart Meryl Streep, it just makes you angry.

When they go to couples therapy with an eerily stoic Steve Carell as their shrink, it’s hard to believe that this marriage can be fixed in anything less than a Hollywood movie.  And things get better, but I was hardly convinced or left smiling.  Between “Hope Springs” and “Amour,” 2012 has been a year where the movies have frightened me about where love and marriage eventually end up.  C / 2stars


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REVIEW: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

12 01 2013

At nearly three hours in duration, Peter Jackson’s “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” plays like a director’s cut or an extended edition.  That is to say, the length feels like its been stretched out as if run through Willy Wonka’s taffy puller.  For Tolkien and “Lord of the Rings”/”Hobbit” enthusiasts, this overly generous runtime is probably a delight.

For people like me, who enjoy Jackson’s impeccable craftsmanship but fight to stave off boredom in his films, it truly is a test of patience.  The movie takes a delight in moseying and taking its time to let the events play out.  While at times, I found myself getting taken out of the movie by the obnoxiously slow pacing, I didn’t find it nearly as much of a chore as I would have expected.

For a movie I was nearly expecting to hate, ambivalence is a sort of victory for this first volume of “The Hobbit” trilogy in my book.  Perhaps the grand scope of the IMAX 3D helped as there were aerial shots aplenty to take my breath away.  The movie also features the same incredible technical achievement that won many Oscars for “The Lord of the Rings.”  Visual effects, cinematography, production design, makeup, sound … it’s all back to stunning effect.

“An Unexpected Journey” seems to be setting the stage for better things to come, and I am confident that they will in fact be delivered.  Though I couldn’t name you a single one of the dwarves, I found their quest for freedom moderately engaging.  Jackson’s script, co-written Guillermo del Toro along with his Academy Award-winning writing partners Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, also brings back plenty of thematic resonance to give some meaning to the wandering in this first installment.

But the movie’s best feature, and maybe the most unexpected triumph, is the performance of Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins.  He’s always fun to watch as a supporting actor, and with the spotlight on him, he doesn’t disappoint.  He brings all the charm of his typical unassuming wallflower to Bilbo, lending a crucial everyman vibe to a character operating in a fantasy world.

Freeman’s Bilbo Baggins is almost like a new-age (or Middle Earth, if you must) Hitchcock hero, an average joe caught by surprise in a web of events beyond his wildest imagination.  Although instead of the debonair suaveness of Cary Grant or James Stewart, Freeman provides a humble self-deprecation that makes him all the more delightful to watch.  Though I could do with a little less easygoing construction in future “Hobbit” films, I am very excited to see how Freeman will evolve the character.  B / 2halfstars


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