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Super 8

Wednesday, October 19th, 2011

If Super 8 were set in the present, its E.T. would likely want to Skype home. But so what if J.J. Abrams (the second “J” is for Spielberg Jr.) wears his influence on his celluloid? Super 8 is enough of a homage that you can’t help but notice it but not so blatant that it ruins what’s from start to finish an exhilarating summer ride.

The film revolves around the making of one back in the summer of ‘79. Tubby prepubescent director Charles (Riley Griffiths) wants his zombie flick to be “mint,” so he employs/bullies his friends, including wounded special effects/makeup kid Joe (Joel Courtney) and mouthy explosives expert Cary (Ryan Lee) for help. He even asks the school hottie, Alice (Elle Fanning, turning into a terrific little actress), to play a role, which she does with such expertise it’s not only her looks that leaves the boys’ mouths agape.

One night when they’re filming at a railroad station (for “production value”), they witness a spectacular train crash. (Truly. See the movie in a theater with a good sound system.) After that, weird things start happening — dogs and car motors are disappearing, everyone’s electricity goes out, the sheriff vanishes. Charles videotapes something otherworldly that night, but, being the ’70s, it’s a couple of days before he and the gang can see the film. There’s the pileup, and then there are tentacles. Whoa.

Super 8 proceeds similarly to Cloverfield, showing only glimpses of the monster and hints about what it’s all about before we get a good look at the thing toward the end. Unlike Cloverfield, however, there’s no this-is-really-happening! found-footage conceit — and guess what, the film is better for it. Super 8’s success rests largely on the charm of its young actors — humor’s as prevalent in the script as terror — and tight storytelling, the plot revealed drop by drop until its Spielbergian climax. That ending is, admittedly, a bit of a limp cherry. But everything that comes before it is mint.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Friday, May 23rd, 2008

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I TOLD you our dinner reservation was at 4:30!

You don’t need the mind-enhancing powers of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’s titular MacGuffin to guess that in the fourth installment of the franchise, our man in the fedora is going to have to take some punches. And not just the nose-busting kind—think retirement homes, or pruned geezers shaking their canes at good-for-nothin’ punks before falling into a deep and sudden sleep.

“You know, for an old man, you ain’t bad in a fight,” one particular good-for-nothin’ punk says to the iconic archaeologist. “What are you, like, 80?”

Henry Jones Jr. is hardly ready to start spending his afternoons feeding ducks. But when word leaked of a third sequel, to be released 19 years after the character literally rode off into the sunset in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade—and with star Harrison Ford now a Medicare-friendly 65—both the actor and series creators Steven Spielberg and George Lucas had to realize that even adventure-hungry devotees were snickering about the prospect of a decrepit action hero.

So in a best-offense-is-a-good-defense move, the filmmakers (including scripter David Koepp, mercifully fleshing out Lucas’ story idea lest some policy-droning spacemen show up) decided to throw a few he-ain’t-what-he-used-to-be jabs at themselves first.

Those jokes stop before they get old; the same can’t be said about the cutesy gopher reaction shots that front-load the film—which, when combined with a ’50s rock ’n’ roll soundtrack instead of John Williams’ famed theme makes the new project feel like a Caddyshack prequel. And speaking of spacemen: Well, there’s no intergalactic politicking here, but the plot does involve aliens. Why did it have to be aliens?

Ford’s age, an uneven tone, an occasionally ludicrous hunt for crystal skull s that may have some fans scratching their bony ones—none of these eyebrow-raisers are enough to keep the newest Indy from being a decent popcorn-muncher. It kicks off in 1957 in Nevada, with Dr. Jones betrayed by partner Mac McHale (Ray Winstone, who. was. Beowulf! but is utterly ­personality-free here) and cornered by the KGB. Their leader is Irina Spalko (Cate Blanchett, also dull beyond her severe hair and cheekbones), and she wants Jones to help her locate a gewgaw that will boost her telepathy and therefore enable her to take over the world, or some such.

Jones escapes her, in a creepy-cool sequence that echoes Spielberg’s obsession with suburbia as he stumbles into a mannequin-occupied, Howdy Doody-tuned home of a nuclear-testing site and, uh, survives an atomic blast. (This, astonishingly, isn’t the film’s most unrealistic stunt.) But Jones and Spalko will meet again when the professor is approached by a kid named Mutt (Shia LaBeouf), a greaser dropout whose mom is missing and was told Indy is the one man who can save her. A couple of chase scenes later, Mutt is officially Jones’ sidekick, and they’re off to South America to hunt for…stuff. (There’s a lot of monotonous, none-too-slick exposition here if you care to listen hard.)

Like its predecessors, Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is dominated by two milieus: dust bowl and rain forest. The adventure-serial animated maps, complete with a plane and red line to show the audience where our heroes are traveling, are back, and Spielberg’s use of film and minimal CGI mostly keeps things looking old-school. (Still, longtime Spielberg collaborator but first-time Indy cinematographer Janusz Kaminski can’t help but give the film his trademark polish; dirt roads have never been so beatifically lit.)

Even if the supporting characters are flat, Koepp, who last scripted 2005’s excellent Zathura: A Space Adventure, gives the script a lighter touch than previous installments, with Indy being simultaneously grumpier and more charming. Jones’ reunion with Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen, looking her age compared with her more steadily working and worked-on peers) lends a spark, though their relationship, like the others here, is about as thin as the pages of Indy’s tattered book of clues.

But really, the Indiana Jones series was always about the adventure, not the people, and in that regard the important boxes have all been ticked off: There are skin-crawling critters, spooky catacombs, sword fights between enemies straddling speeding jeeps. More important, Ford doesn’t look ridiculous. Turns out this old man can still take hits to both body and ego and remain as cheer-worthy as the first time he rocked a bullwhip and dusty lid.

News Roundup: Spielberg Courts the Crazies, Downey Jr. Goes Black, and Steven Seagal IS Cockpuncher

Thursday, March 6th, 2008

 Because I’ve already written about 20,000 words this week but want to get these stories out, I’m doing a little linkage today:

Steven Spielberg is reportedly building a social-networking site for Dennis Kucinich and other people who’ve spotted UFOs.

–Here’s a story on Ben Stiller’s upcoming Tropic Thunderincluding a photo of Robert Downey Jr.’s apparent Al Jolson impression. Can’t wait to see what the folks who bitched about Fred Armisen doing Barack Obama are going to say about this.

–The Onion made a movie. 

Speed Racer is going IMAX. I’m ridiculously excited for this movie, even if I don’t see it on a billboard-size screen.