ALL IS LOST Is Harrowing Tale of Survival at Sea

ALL IS LOST Review:

- Coming only weeks after the game-changing outer space survival story Gravity, the oceanic adventure of indie release ALL IS LOST might, at first, seem underwhelming by comparison. All Is Lost does bear some similarities to Gravity - it's a solitary journey - mixing realism with spiritual subtext - and it's a harrowing tale of survival that puts the viewer through the ringer, immersing you there, in the moment, with its lone protagonist. What's interesting about All Is Lost, however, is its starkness and simplicity. This is a movie all about minimalism. Director J.C. Chandor (Margin Call) doesn't give us anything in the way of backstory. All we know about our main character, a nameless sailor played with gritty determination by Robert Redford, is his moment-to-moment reality. And so, as the film progresses, we become utterly swept up in this character's dogged struggle to stay alive, with no real additional context to muddle the action.

Chandor shoots the film in a very straightforward, un-flashy, almost documentary-esque manner. It's jarring, at first, because it takes a while to acclimate, and to figure out what exactly is happening. That said, the film opens with a somber bit of narration from Redford, which quickly but effectively sets the stakes for the rest of the largely dialogue-free film. Redford's narration - a reading of a last will and testament (to whom - his wife? - we can't quite be sure), makes it clear that the events we are about to see will lead to very, very dire circumstances. But what's fascinating is seeing how those events come to pass.

Because the film is so detail-oriented, so grounded ... Redford's plight is worsened less by melodramatic, cinematic occurrences and more by small but crucial twists of fate, and increasingly volatile conditions to his boat. The slow build works well, and it's easy to place ourselves in the shoes of Redford. What's interesting is that Redford doesn't suddenly find himself stranded in the ocean clinging to a floating board, or suddenly without any food or drinkable water. He has supplies, he has a life raft he can utilize if need be ... so it's a slow, steady descent towards the end of the line. Each decision Redford makes becomes more critical as time goes on. You can see from Redford's acting that internal struggle to accept what's actually happening. There is that desire to hole up in his boat's cabin and act like it's not that bad. But that false sense of security ends when water repeatedly begins flowing into all areas of the vessel. Quickly, each scene of the film forms a practical question to us and to our protagonist. How long does Redford stay on the sinking boat? What food can he salvage, and how? What equipment and materials does he have at his disposal that he can use to survive, to find help, to carry on?

Redford is excellent here. A younger Redford may not have worked in the role, because he wouldn't have seemed like an average-enough guy to relate to. But here, the 77 year old actor's steely determination and experience-derived pragmatism is tempered by the limitations of age. Redford is no superhero in this film. He's remarkably - incredibly - spry and agile for a man his age. We never doubt that he's tough as hell. But the film also doesn't cover up the toll that the physicality of the action takes on the actor or the character he plays. We hear his heavy breathing, we see the pain on his face, we see the effort it takes to do the things that might have come easier to a younger man. That dynamic is key to All Is Lost. Redford still has movie-star charisma at 77, but this film doesn't play it up. Instead, it's a very honest portrayal of a man whose movements have become more deliberate, more labored. Even at 77, this is a guy still tougher than most half his age. And yet ... the actor's age gives the film an added significance - this is to be his last battle, his final test. If nothing else, he's determined to go down fighting.

Again, give Redford credit for a unique performance that tells us a lot without words. The actor's presence infuses this character with a lot of unspoken baggage, but it's baggage that works in the film's favor. This is a man who is clearly proud, likely highly confident in himself, potentially even a touch aristocratic. That makes it all the more humbling for him when he's completely at the mercy of an unrelenting ocean, increasingly helpless against the harsh mistress that is Mother Nature.

Moment to moment, shot to shot, the movie feels grounded - scenes are often composed like logic puzzles, with Redford trying but failing at something, and then revising his strategy and figuring out a Plan B. At the same time, there is that spiritual, existential element to the film. The tight, close-in camera work will occasionally be interrupted by wide overhead shots, or long underwater shots looking up at the boat, or the life-raft, showing us the ocean life beneath. It's a reminder of man's smallness in the context of nature - underscored by the film's spare but ominous score. And it's a theme that becomes more apparent as the film goes on, as Redford becomes more desperate and helpless. That other theme - of one man's final battle - is also there as the movie reaches its climax. The ending is left fairly open for interpretation, and is accompanied by some memorable, haunting imagery.

My complaints are few, but I think there are moments where the film could have used a little more sense of context around the main character's actions. There are times when it's a bit unclear why Redford is or isn't pursuing a specific course of action - with little dialogue, it's understandable that much is left open and not fully explained. At the same time, the movie's grounded, matter-of-fact style occasionally gives way to sudden edits that leave you with a feeling of "but wait, how did ...?". Otherwise, I suppose that the movie's other most obvious failing - that it takes a while to really get going - also plays into its strength as a narrative: all of that build-up creates a real feeling of immersion and realism. When things really get crazy later on, you're all in. The slow build definitely yields a worthy payoff.

ALL IS LOST is ultimately a hell of a tale of survival. Individual scenes have a rugged, you-are-there, no-frills quality that fully sells you on the on-screen action. The parts, however, add up to a whole that is not just about the practical means of surviving while stranded at sea, but a striking meditation on life, death, and the will to survive.

My Grade: A-

MACHETE KILLS Is Fun But Overstuffed B-Movie Insanity

MACHETE KILLS Review:

- I love that we're still living in a world where postmodern grindhouse films like Machete can be made. There's something to be said for the anything-goes aesthetic of these movies, and the sheer sense of fun to be had with them. In an age when too many action movies seem overly grim, it's refreshing to sit back and watch a movie that at its core is solely about having fun - realism, political correctness, and good taste be damned. That said, MACHETE KILLS worries me just a bit. Because in spite of what I just said, if you look at the original Tarantino/Rodrguez Grindhouse collaboration, there was also a strong sense of creativity and ingenuity at play. Yes, those films were fun, and reveled in exploitation-genre excess. But there was also a real sense that we were getting a chance to see great filmmakers stretch and test their own limits. It felt like Tarantino and Rodriguez were using Grindhouse as an opportunity to really flex their creative muscles, and tell stories that wouldn't necessarily fly in their slightly-more-mainstream films. The first Machete film was an extension of that, with Rodrguez presenting a fully-realized vision of the over-the-top character he first debuted as part of a fan-favorite fake (at the time) Grindhouse trailer. With MACHETE KILLS though, you have to wonder if this is less about Rodriguez really innovating, and more about him just sort of screwing around. I don't mean that in a purely negative way ... but Machete Kills feels like, perhaps, Rodriguez went for the everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach to the detriment of actually making a great movie.

MACHETE KILLS very quickly becomes completely insane, and only gets crazier as it goes. I'll say this: the movie begins in rather mind-blowing fashion, kicking off with a "Coming Attractions" trailer for a *third* Machete movie - "Machete Kills Again ... In Space." Yes, you heard me. And yes, this trailer is awesome and just completely whacked out.

But here's the weird thing ... while that trailer plays out like an extended gag, Rodriguez soon shows that he's actually pretty damn serious about it. Without spoiling too much, Rodriguez legitimately builds towards a Machete-in-space movie with MACHETE KILLS. And he strains and bends over backwards to get there. And maybe that's part of the problem ... Rodriguez seems to think there's nothing funnier or more entertaining than the idea that, yep, this is all actually leading up to a Machete-in-space movie. But he sort of undermines the so-random-its-hilariousness of that scenario by creating a very, very convoluted plot to get there.

The movie is packed to the brim with characters and plot points, some more memorable than others. First off though, Danny Trejo is once again quite simply badass and awesome as the title character. In fact, I still get a kick out of the fact that the sixty-something, craggy-faced Trejo actually gets to star in an action film and kick ass like he does as Machete. All other factors aside, Rodriguez inherently understands why Danny Trejo is a badass, and understands how best to have him do and say awesome things. Trejo just keeps getting older and more craggy, and it's increasingly obvious when a stuntman is filling in for him in fight scenes. But somehow, the older he gets, the more awesome it is to imagine the man kicking ass and just becoming increasingly badass and invincible with age. The movie's best running gag plays off this very concept - that Machete is impervious to pain and death in a quasi-supernatural manner. When one adversary tries to hang him, the noose simply has no effect on Machete's tree stump-like neck. It's the non-Trejo characters that are more of a mixed bag ...

My favorite new addition to the cast is probably Amber Heard as the fantastically-named, beauty queen-slash-secret agent Ms. San Antonio. Between this and Drive Angry 3D, I'm convinced that Heard needs to just be in every grindhouse-style action movie made from here on out. She just has a perfect understanding of how to do these kinds of roles - with just the right level of self-aware tongue-in-cheekness. The best is when Heard gets to spar with another B-action queen in Michelle Rodriguez. M-Rod is in the movie for far too short a time, but she definitely spices things up when she becomes more prominently featured in the thirds act - and her back-and-forth banter with Heard is a highlight.

Meanwhile, Charlie Sheen (or "Emilio Estevez" - his real name that he's billed as here), is entertaining as the by-god President of the United States - a foul-mouthed, womanizing POTUS who is pretty much, well, Charlie Sheen. And it's great to see a small but crucial role from the great Tom Savini.

On the other hand, MACHETE KILLS is filled with fun and capable actors playing somewhat pointless parts. Demian Bichir feels way too overqualified to play Mendez, a criminal mastermind suffering from multiple personality disorder. I'm a big Bichir fan, and he elevates the character ... but Mendez is a prime example of the movie's tendency to overindulge and try to do too much without enough real payoff. Bichir is entertaining, but by his fifth or sixth personality change, I was over it. Same for the identity-shifting assassin character played in turn by Walton Goggins, Cuba Gooding Jr., Lady Gaga, and Antonio Banderas. I would have rather seen an actor like Goggins really get to sink his teeth into a substantial part than be part of this somewhat wearisome gimmick character. Same for Banderas. And hey, Lady Gaga shows some nice potential. She fits right in as a grindhouse femme fatale. Less natural is Sofia Vergara as masochistic madame Desdemona. Her character feels shoehorned into the film, and Vergara just seems a bit awkward - even if her chest-mounted machine guns are sort of hilarious. And finally, there's Mel Gibson as uber-villain Voz. Gibson gives it the ol' college try, and he's more palatable than usual when playing a villain we're *supposed* to hate. But his villainous monologues get very old very quick, and the scenes in which Gibson gets the spotlight are just plain draggy - a cardinal sin in a movie called Machete Kills.

Don't get me wrong, MACHETE KILLS has plenty of great, over-the-top moments, and it's mostly a lot of fun. Trejo doesn't say much, but he kills the one-liners as only he can, and he brings the badassery in heaping helpings. Heard and Michelle Rodriguez are worthy supporting players, and along with Sheen are the standouts in an eclectic and overloaded cast. And the Machete-in-space stuff is pretty priceless. Even if Machete Kills dampened my enthusiasm for the franchise just a bit, the idea of one more, balls-to-the-wall intergalactic outing is enough to re-ignite my excitement. The teasers we get in this one are just bat$#%& insane. Still, Machete Kills is proof that it ain't exactly easy to translate five minutes of kickass trailer into an hour-and-a-half of kickass feature film. With a trailer, the more awesome and crazy that's packed in, the better - sensory overload is the goal. But a full-length feature demands a little something more, and in some ways, a little less. Restraint *can* be a good thing, even in an over-the-top grindhouse flick. Machete Kills, while still fun, funny, and highly entertaining, could have benefited from a little more focus. It needed more of a reason to exist beyond just being a bridge towards Machete going sci-fi. Rest assured though, when Machete does rocket up to the stars to lay waste to some cosmic suckas, I'm all in, baby.

My Grade: B

ZERO CHARISMA Is Great Geek Cinema

ZERO CHARISMA Review:

- Zero Charisma is a great little indie comedy that is pretty much a must-watch if you are, were, or have ever been, at all, a nerd, geek, or dork. It's one of the best and truest movies about geekiness ever made. Why do I say that? Because we live in a world where geeks are cool, where everyone claims to be a geek, and where the most-watched comedy on TV is a show about geeks - albeit a super-cartoonish and sort of obnoxious regression to the days of Steve Urkel. Between the adorkable nerds of The Big Bang Theory and the hipster-cool nerdiness of The Nerdist lies a more complicated reality: nowadays, being a geek can be cool, sure ... but there's also, often, painful reasons why people develop geeky obsessions. That, I think, is why there's sometimes a rift between true-blue geeks and new-school hipster-geeks. Traditionally, nerds suffered for their status. They liked things that no one else liked. They were outcasts and punks. They were derided for their strange and decidedly non-mainstream passions. And ZERO CHARISMA pulls no punches in telling the story of an uber-nerd who clings desperately to the worst kind of geeky tendencies.

As played somewhat brilliantly by Sam Eidson, Scott is like a relic of an older era of geekdom. A big, hulking dude with a mismatched, squeeky voice, Scott dresses in 90's-style geek/goth metal gear, matching cargo shorts and black death metal screen T's with fingerless gloves and the kind of black duster trenchcoat that was frowned upon post-Columbine. It's easy to imagine that the 30-something Scott has dressed the same since high school. And it's easy to see that he hasn't changed much, in general, since those days. He lives with his snappish grandmother, and seems happy to let her do most of the household heavy lifting (and he pays no rent). His room is plastered with posters and figurines. He works at a dead-end job at a donut shop (he got fired from his previous job at a hobby store). And he lives for, above all else, his weekly game nights, in which he gathers his nerdy friends, and leads a Dungeons & Dragons-esque game of his own creation.

The game is Scott's baby. He spends his days working on scenarios for it, and refuses to ever miss it or let a weekly session get cancelled. To that end, Scott treats his fellow players less like friends and more like minions. When one of the players has to drop out of the game, in an effort to patch things up with his wife, Scott takes it as a personal affront - showing minimal sympathy. But a player dropping out sets the stage for the central conflict of the film: in search of a new player, Scott runs into Miles - a glasses-wearing geek who seems like a perfect fit for the game. But Miles, as it turns out, is a different breed of geek from Scott. Miles has a cute girlfriend, a swanky apartment, and Hollywood connections (through his work as a writer for the "Geek Chic" pop culture website). Miles is, in short, the picture of the modern hipster-geek, and in many ways the antithesis of Scott. While the two start out as friends, it isn't long before Scott declares Miles to be his nemesis.

ZERO CHARISMA walks a fine line in its depiction of Scott. On one hand, he's sort of a jerk. On the other hand, there's a purity to him that you have to sort of respect. There's no drive in Scott to be cool, and he isn't into what he's into because of anyone else. His passion comes from within, and hey, that's something to be admired. On the other hand ... Miles has drive, he has ambition, he knows what he wants out of life. And yet, there's something not quite genuine about him. He seems a little too pleased with himself, a little too smug. Miles' presence, in a way, makes Scott a bit easier to root for. Scott is the guy that got left behind in the great geek revolution. Through Miles, he begins to realize exactly how left behind he really is.

There's some great, understated humor in the film, but also a lot of heart. The feeling of authenticity in these characters goes a long way to making the awkward moments all the more wonderfully awkward, and the emotional moments all the more gutting. There's tons of great geek-humor: discussions about the relative speeds of various sci-fi spaceships, Scott's stubborn assertion that he came up with the idea for The Matrix, and the strange but hilarious relationship between Scott and his even nerdier best-friend, Wayne (who sports the geekiest mustache since Kip from Napoleon Dynamite). At the same time, the movie doesn't present the glossy, Big Bang version of geekdom. There's a real, undercurrent of hurt and pain that colors the movie. I'd compare it to TV's seminal Freaks & Geeks. Basically, Zero Charisma doesn't feel like a bunch of slick writers doing their version of what geekiness might be like. This one clearly comes from a real place in the heart of filmmaker Andrew Matthews.

The movie was crowd-funded and made on a low budget, but it actually looks really good. Matthews does a great job of capturing the smaller moments, but he also escalates things and gives the action a semi-epic feel as the story builds to a crescendo.

My guess is a lot of geeky-types who watch this one will see something of themselves in both Scott and Miles (I know I did, to an extent). And the way that Zero Charisma perfectly captures that dichotomy of nerdiness is pretty much pitch-perfect. For that reason, anyone who's ever felt even just a little bit geeky owes it to themselves to check out this gem.

My Grade: A-

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Is Uber-Intense Stunner

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Review:

- The success of CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a tribute to two things. One is the directorial prowess of Paul Greengrass. This is a guy whose reputation has perhaps taken a hit due to the rash of less-skilled imitators that he's spawned. But Greengrass is the real deal, and he proves it again here. Second is the amazing, continued ability of Tom Hanks to push himself and take his acting to new dramatic heights. While Hanks is the consummate everyman, he also doesn't merely coast on that rep, and his knockout performance in this film is proof. It's one of the best-ever performances from Hanks - a stunning, nuanced, emotionally raw performance that seriously wowed me. The combination of Greengrass and Hanks is a potent one indeed. I honestly didn't expect it from the trailers, but CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a total stunner - one of the best dramas of 2013.

The movie is based on the recent, real-life story of Captain Richard Phillips, whose commercial cargo ship was the victim of an attempted hijacking and robbery by Somali pirates, back in 2009. Phillips wrote a book about the ordeal, and now, Greengrass and writer Billy Ray have adapted it into one hell of a film.

Greengrass expertly builds up the tension in the film - and once things fully escalate, the movie becomes a total nail-biter. But before the conflict ensues, we get some telling looks at Phillips, his crew, and also of the Somalis who carry out the desperate heist attempt. Phillips is immediately a fascinating character, perhaps in part because of his blue-collar ordinariness. When we meet him, he's with his wife (Catherine Keener) in their quiet New Hampshire home. As they drive in the rain, the middle-aged couple worries about all things you'd expect them to: their college-age kids facing a tough economy, and the long absences that Phillips' duties require of him. Hanks plays Phillips as a meat-and-potatoes guy, but also a very smart guy - a guy who's very aware of the world around him. That awareness is there in the movie's DNA - as we also see set-up scenes in Somalia, where the dreary, existential dread of mid-life in New Hampshire seems like paradise, as compared to the ramshackle living conditions and violent, chaotic lifestyle that is a fact of life there. The film by no means paints the Somali pirates as heroes or antiheroes or anything like that. But it does give context to their actions, and gives depth to their characters. Finally, there's the crew of Phillips' ship. Overall, they're a competent, salt-of-the-earth bunch - but the film, again, takes pains to give the crew guys unique personalities. The characters all feel real and lived-in. It helps that the crew isn't populated with GQ types, but with guys who are 100% believable as world-weary union workers. It all ties into Greengrass' realer-is-better aesthetic. His movies contain big action and spectacle, but it all comes from a place of authenticity. The starting point is the real-world, and the quieter moments have a documentary-like aesthetic that makes the crazier moments feel all the more plausible.

And as things get crazy, Greengrass expertly escalates the tension to almost unbearable levels. There are a number of factors that play into this. There's a very interesting dynamic, for example, between Phillip's crew and the pirates. The pirates are obviously the aggressors - boarding Phillip's ship with machine guns and ill-intent. But there's also an unsettling inevitability at play - these pirates are essentially #$%&'ed from moment one. Even though we're worried for Phillips and his crew, the feeling that the pirates are in over their heads keeps building as the movie goes on. Even if they pull off the heist ... then what? Best case scenario: they go back home to an unforgiving, war-torn country that is all but devoid of hope and opportunity. Worst case - and most likely scenario - is that they end up captured or killed by the U.S. military, which has every intent of stopping the situation before it becomes an international incident. So the intensity in the film has many, many layers. As the on-screen drama keeps getting bigger in scale - as Navy battleships and military helicopters and snipers get involved - there's so much at stake for every principal character that you can't help but be on the edge of your seat to see how this gets resolved.

An unlikely star of the film is Somali-American actor Barkhad Abdi, as the pirates' leader, Muse. Skeleton-skinny, Abdi infuses Muse with a blend of misguided ambition and desperation. He repeats an upbeat-sounding mantra of "everything will be alright," but behind it there's a sadness, hurt, and anger. Muse is perhaps the most rational of his associates - others are violent and aggressive, one is a young teen who got more than he bargained for in this mission. What he and the other pirates likely didn't bargain for was being pitted against a tough, sea-hardened crew and their resourceful captain.

There's great drama to be had in the chicken-and-egg game that Hank's Phillips plays with the pirates once they've boarded his ship. He uses every trick in the book to try to outwit them and get them to think of him as their friend. But there's something more in the way Hanks deals with them. Yes, he's putting on an act, to some extent, in an attempt to save his crew. But he's also acting in a kind, decent manner towards the Somalis (well, as kind and decent as one can be with people trying to hijack your boat), and they seem genuinely taken aback by it. There's a fascinating clash of worlds here - Phillips is a "put your head down and work hard" New Englander. The pirates have an entirely different ethos - take what you can, because tomorrow you may be dead. It's hard to imagine a more pronounced culture clash. Later, as the military gets involved and the situation spirals out of control, we see those same ethos pushed to their extremes, until they bend and snap. Phillips gives in to the instinct for self-preservation, and the pirates trick themselves into thinking there's a way out of their impossible situation, as they find themselves backed into a corner by the full might of Western Civilization.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS isn't an overtly political movie, but there's a ton to chew on in its subtext. So rarely do all characters in a film feel so fleshed-out and three-dimensional. Ultimately, the pirates are the film's de facto villains. But the film also forces you to think of its plotline as more than just your typical USA: good, Others: bad narrative. There's a nuance and complexity here that's admirable.

But let me get back to Hanks for a second. It's funny, because going into the film, I found his heavily-accented New England dialect to be sort of comical, judging from the previews. "We ah being boarded" became a bit of a running joke. But the reality is: in context, there's nothing cartoonish about Hanks here. In fact, there's so much subtlety and so much humanity to his performance that I was increasingly impressed as the movie went on. But what sealed the deal for me that this was an all-time great piece of acting was the film's final ten minutes or so, in which Phillips finally just breaks down after the traumatic events he's been through. This stretch of the film's final act is just jaw-droppingly powerful stuff, and it's all Hanks. The way he depicts a level-headed, almost stoic man lose his $#%^ is flat-out chill-inducing, to the point where I wanted to reach out and hand the man an Oscar right then and there. It might just be the best work of Hanks' career.

And Greengrass ... like I said, he's often imitated, but what the wannabes lack is his seeming complete command and control over even the most subtle shaky-cam movements. With Greengrass, it never feels like shaky-cam for the sake of it. Instead, you feel like you're in the hands of a guy with a very precise handle on what he's trying to accomplish. The guy is just really, really good, and he moves from small-scale slice-of-life stuff to huge-scale action in a way that's so seamless, it's amazing.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is right up there as one of the best of the year to date. Coming only a week after the epic Gravity, it makes for one hell of an October one-two punch.

My Grade: A

GRAVITY: Cosmic Survival Story and Mind-Melting Cinematic Achievement

GRAVITY Review:

- Yes, GRAVITY is a roller-coaster ride. But man, what a ride it is. This is a movie that demands to be seen on a huge IMAX screen, and in 3D. This is a film that is about evoking awe, wonder, and terror. Ultimately, this is a movie that will succeed with each individual based on their ability to immerse themselves in its cosmic universe. Personally, I was 100% gripped for the duration of the film. I marveled at what director Alfonso Cuaron was able to pull off here, even as the power of his images and storytelling blurred the lines between fantasy and reality. Rare is the movie that leaves you feeling like you've just emerged from experiencing what the characters experienced - not just emotionally, but physically. Rare is the cinematic adventure of this caliber.

Cuaron doesn't waste any time here. It positively flies by, and I was sort of amazed at just how economical the storytelling was. Movies and TV trained me to expect Gravity to, at any moment, hit me with melodramatic flashbacks to its characters' lives on earth, lengthy prologues and epilogues, or extended scenes of expositary dialogue. But Gravity is spare and on-point. It's entirely about what is happening in-the-moment, and about putting its audience in-the-moment. And so, some may wonder why there isn't more backstory for the characters. But to me, the bare-bones back-story was refreshing. The movie is about a very specific adventure, and it is laser-focused on conveying the immediacy and urgency of what we're seeing on screen. Very quickly, the film becomes about life-and-death-struggle, and it never lets up, all the way through into the final moments of its astonishing finale.

It's rare that after seeing a film I want to go and watch behind-the-scenes making-of docs immediately afterwords. But here, that was one of my first reactions upon the film's conclusion: "how did they do that?" Yes, these days CGI makes nearly anything possible, but CGI alone doesn't account for the seamless nature of Gravity's images, the almost complete lack of disconnect or disparity between the human actors and their environments. If someone were to say that Cuaron actually filmed the movie in deep space, it wouldn't seem altogether crazy. On a technical level, the movie is a marvel. But Cuaron is one of those guys who mixes technical wizardry with artistic genius in a way that few if any of his peers can. With his trademark long takes, Cuaron rarely deviates from the movie's you-are-there aesthetic. At the same time, the movie is "realistic" in its attention to detail and use of logic and science, but also mind-blowlingly artistic. Cuaron roots the events of his film in science, but he never fails to imbue every scene with retina-searing artistry - magnified even more so by the added immersive quality of IMAX and 3D. Channelling the spirit of Kubrick and Ridley Scott, Cuaron pays aesthetic homage to films like 2001 and Alien, but speeds past them in terms of sheer sensory assault. As an example, large segments of GRAVITY undoubtedly show the visual influence of videogames. Cuaron expands on the way that first-person games build virtual worlds around a player's field of vision, and uses that aesthetic to thrilling effect. Gravity has first-person scenes that feel truly next-level. Just as Cuaron borrows from the world of gaming, I wouldn't be surprised to see many games in the next few years borrow heavily, in turn, from him. Overall, the way that Cuaron frames his shots - the way he plays with perspective, field-of-vision, and movement - it's all clearly the work of a mad-genius mind that is operating on another wavelength from most humans. How is he visualizing all of this, and how is he translating that vision so completely to the screen?

The film is also more than just a literal adventure. There's a not-so-subtle subtext at work here that gives the movie an added dimension of being a spiritual journey and not just a physical one. And how could it not be? If anything is fodder for considering one's own mortality, place in the universe, and spiritual purpose in the cosmos, it's a story about being stranded in the void of space. Cuaron is pretty on-the-nose with his death/rebirth imagery throughout the film, but personally, I think the lack of subtextual subtlety fits with the rocket-powered tone and pacing of the film. Again, it seems to be in the interest of being economical. And it's a testament to the film's breakneck pace and edge-of-your-seat thrills that when Cuaron does stop for those quieter moments of symbolic respite ... those moments are powerful, memorable, and just as visually dynamic (if not more so) than when the action is going full-steam-ahead. I found the movie's spiritual themes to be just present enough to even further propel the main action, providing an added element of urgency and almost primitive, primal drive in our lead character's quest to get safely back to earth.

Speaking of which, that main character is Ryan Stone - played by Sandra Bullock. Stone is a rookie astronaut brought out to space for her technical and medical knowledge. She is paired with Kowalski - played by George Clooney - a veteran astronaut whose preternaturally calm demeanor helps to offset Stone's understandable nerves. Let me say this: I've never really been a Sandra Bullock fan. It's partly that I haven't loved the types of movies she's starred in, for the most part. It's partly that I can't recall ever being particularly wowed by one of her performances. But I went into Gravity with an open mind, willing to see if the actress could up her game to match the ambition of Cuaron's filmmaking. I came away hugely impressed with Bullock's performance, and as far as I'm concerned, this is her career-best performance to date, by far - blowing anything else she's ever done out of the water. The key thing here is that Bullock brings a realness and rawness that meshes perfectly with the immediacy of the film. I mentioned Alien before, and the first performance that Bullock's brings to mind is Sigourney Weaver's in that sci-fi classic. Not because Ryan Stone is anything like Ellen Ripley (far from it), but because both characters are (figuratively and literally) stripped bare while faced with terrifying danger and existential dread. Both must confront death head-on and choose to fight, to live. And Bullock does so with a rawness that I didn't know she had in her. I (and others I'm sure) have to reevaluate her as an actress post-Gravity. Clooney's character is there almost in service of Bullock. It's a simple role - Kowalski is the seasoned pro, the adventurer, the explorer - the guy who can laugh at death and danger and wax nostalgic about old girlfriends while working on precise projects far beyond the confines of planet earth. So yeah, it's basically Clooney as Clooney, but it's exactly what's needed in this film.

I'll also mention the film's score by Steven Price. It's a fantastic score - at times haunting, at times pulse-pounding - but always evocative of the awe and wonder of outer space. The fantastic music that accompanies the action adds immeasurably to the full-sensory-overload experience that is Gravity.

I do wonder, just a bit, about the longevity of a film like this. Stripped of IMAX and 3D and wall-to-wall speakers, does it still hold up as a film on the most basic level? GRAVITY isn't a film that has quite as much on its mind as, say, 2001. And it doesn't have the personality or badassery of an Alien. But Gravity is a different beast - it's easy to want it to be sci-fi-esque, to take on the elements of that genre that we associate with the aforementioned classics. But Gravity, while it does have that cosmic/spiritual element, is not sci-fi, and is not even a truly narrative or thematically-driven film. No - this is an experiential film - a breakneck rollercoaster ride that is about one thing: survival. Yes, it's about survival both on a micro, moment-to-moment level, and on a macro, big-picture, cosmic level. But just as the film's title suggests a primal force, so too does the movie as a whole feel primal, instinctual, fight-or-flight. The fact that Cuaron and co. were able to make such a lean movie that is, ironically, bursting at the seams with technical wizardry and astounding imagery - that, I think, is an award-worthy achievement.

My Grade: A

RUSH Is Sweeping Sports Movie Gold

RUSH Review:

- RUSH really surprised me. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that a big, high-gloss Ron Howard movie delivered the goods, but hey, I guess it's been a while since Ron Howard really delivered a true knockout punch. Of late, I've thought of him more as the guy who does the DaVinci Code movies and pops up in self-effacing cameos on Arrested Development. But man, Rush is the return of the Howard who did riveting yet humanistic films like Apollo 13. If you've been on the fence about checking it out, I highly recommend that you give it a shot - Rush is not just a return to greatness for Howard, but one of the most impactful and well-crafted movies of the year so far.

Rush is based on a real-life story, but it wasn't one that I was at all familiar with going in. I suspect that others will have the same initial reaction as I did: wondering how appealing a movie about F1 racing can be if you're not particularly into racing. But the story here is one that's much more universal - because Rush is the story of a great rivalry. In this case, the rivalry between brash, fast-living, thrill-seeking British F1 racer James Hunt, and precise, steely, calculating Austrian racer Niki Lauda. It's a classic sports duel, with contrasting personalities and ethos - but eventually, with grudging respect - that reminded me of the likes of Bird vs. Magic. The difference here is that the two racers don't just compete - they put their lives on the line every time they strap into their souped-up cars.

What makes Rush's story so compelling is that the races really do become about life and death - when Lauda is horrifically injured in a near-fatal crash. Lauda however - a driven a competitor - works his way back from the brink and re-enters into the ongoing competition, despite emerging from his crash with painful and disfiguring burns.

So let me talk for a second about Daniel Bruhl, who plays Niki Lauda. He's phenomenal in the film. What struck me was how Lauda initially comes across as the "villain" of the movie. Afterall, he's the prickly one, the weaselly one, the obvious black knight to Hunt's heroic white knight. But soon enough, the movie shows that this isn't a black-and-white tale at all. Behind Lauda's prickliness we see a fierce competitor and a complex man. The kind of man who isn't typically painted as a hero - but who, in his own way, displays courage and heroism. Bruhl knocks it out of the park - he makes Lauda a nuanced character that keeps emotion bottled-up, but who has a steely resolve to keep moving forward. He doesn't like Hunt's swagger and showmanship. To Lauda, racing is about science, precision, and technique. Meanwhile, Chris Hemsworth is also quite good as James Hunt. A racing rockstar, his Hunt is a guy who takes full advantage of the perks of fame and fortune. But again, the movie is too smart for one-dimensional characters. As the movie goes on, Hunt grows increasingly weary of his life of excess, and increasingly finds a comradery in Lauda and a respect for him. Hemsworth shows himself to be a guy capable of playing much more complex characters than we've seen from him previously.

Ron Howard smartly spends considerable time building up both characters - generally keeping them out of each others' orbits except for select moments. There's some outstanding character work here - and the way the script devotes time to showing us Lauda and Hunt's vastly different worlds makes it all the more powerful when those worlds collide.

If there is a fault with the film, it's that the movie can't seem to decide just how much time to spend on the women in Hunt and Lauda's lives. Olivia Wilde plays Hunt's wife Suzy, and there is some compelling conflict and turmoil in their relationship. But Wilde drifts in and out of the film, and so some of the drama surrounding her feels forced. She's there just enough to feel like she's *supposed* to be a major character, but not enough to feel like she actually is. Handled slightly better is Alexandra Maria Lara's depiction of Lauda's wife, Marlene. Marlene fits in more organically with the story, because her relationship with Niki triggers in him a new fear of death that affects his racing. The two also have a courtship that's really well-written and fun. Still, Marlene also occasionally drifts out of the picture, and doesn't quite feel like a fully-realized character.

That said, the character work on Hunt and, in particular, Lauda, is so good that it's easy to overlook everything else. What's more, Ron Howard really directs the hell out of this movie. He gives the entire film an epic, sweeping feel. But he also makes it sexier and more rock n' roll that any film he's done to date. There are certain sequences that feel a little edgier, a little more experimental, and a little more avant garde than what we've come to expect from Howard - and that prevent Rush from feeling like *just* an aspirational Oscar-bait movie. Plus, the racing sequences are extremely well-done - edge-of-your-seat and visceral. Howard makes sure that the racing feels dangerous. You come away from those scenes wondering "who in their right mind would do this for sport?" And that's exactly the question the movie wants you to ponder.

I'll also mention that the film has a really great score from Hans Zimmer. Zimmer really heightens the emotion of the film and provides an added dimension to the action.

The great Bill Simmons called Rush the best sports movie in years, and I'm inclined to agree. It dramatizes the competitive drive of athletes in a way that few films have ever fully captured. And it brings to life an epic - but little known to modern audiences - rivalry in applause-worthy fashion. Daniel Bruhl deserves to be on awards lists come Oscar time, and Ron Howard deserves kudos for this creative comeback.

My Grade: A-

A Farewell to BREAKING BAD: The Greatest Story of Our Time.

 - It feels almost strange to write about Breaking Bad these days, because it was only a few years ago that it was a cult-favorite show that the faithful were yelling about to their friends, but that was still very much under the broader cultural radar. I too got on the Breaking Bad train slightly late - my brother and I powered through the first two seasons in preparation for Season 3, and man, marathoning through those first couple of seasons ... it was some of the best TV I'd ever seen to that point. But Breaking Bad just kept topping itself. As the show went on, I often thought "you know, this might just end up as one of the all-time great TV shows." But now, as I write this hours away from the finale, there can be no doubt. BREAKING BAD is likely the best serialized TV drama of all time.

Writers have waxed endlessly about the show over these last few months, but I thought I'd pull back for a second and talk about some of the broader thematic virtues of the series. I could write for pages about the brilliance of the cast - the great Bryan Cranston in particular, in what will go down as perhaps the single greatest TV drama performance ever given. I could talk about the look and aesthetic and production value of the show - so unique and so consistently incredible. Or I could talk about the mind-blowingly good writing, that keeps you guessing week to week, that never fails to shock, disturb, or get your heart racing. But what I want to do is talk for a bit about certain feelings that Breaking Bad captures - certain themes and moments - that no other show has ever tackled with such effectiveness.

The Moment of Panic.

- We all experience it. We all know the feeling. Okay, maybe some of you are those rare Type A personalities who constantly have their $#%& together every waking moment. But for most of us, we have it: that moment when the clock is ticking, when we have to quickly weigh all options, when we feel backed into a corner and we're not quite sure how or if we're going to make it. Maybe it's a feeling that's heightened in our modern world, a feeling that's magnified when we're constantly overextending ourselves and trying to pack in as much as we can into a a day that feels increasingly short. Breaking Bad is a show that captures that feeling of modern panic better than any other. For Walter White is a man who has a literal ticking clock, a man who is constantly backed into corners. And when Breaking Bad goes into "panic mode," and hits us with one of its patented Breaking Bad sequences of pure heightened adrenaline, my reaction is a mix of excitement and dread. Dread because again, who doesn't know that feeling, even if in some small way? The feeling of oversleeping and realizing you've got ten minutes to get to work. The feeling of realizing that you've got 20 minutes to accomplish something that would normally take an hour. The feeling that your plans aren't quite coming together, and it's going to take a desperate move or calculated risk to pull 'em off. Breaking Bad's heightened reality is our modern reality cranked up to 11. Walter White's dread is our dread. On one level, all Walter wants is to reach some mythical happy ending where he lives out a life of peaceful tranquility with his family. But on another level, he keeps pushing forward and practically digging his own grave. In some small way, isn't that what we all do? We box ourselves in. We set ourselves up. We participate in actions that will come back to bite us, but we do so anyway, thinking "I may *just* be able to get away with this if I play my cards right." When Walter is able to overcome the odds, and somehow escape - when he outwits Gus Fring or lucks out and squirms his way out of a tight squeeze - we can't help but root for him despite his ever-decreasing moral compass. Why? Because we've all been there, in some small way. We know the rush that comes with getting away with something, with having a plan somehow work despite the fact that it shouldn't, and only thanks to a stroke of lucky timing.

The Break-Bad.

- Here's another thing we all deal with in the "real world." The sad fact of adulthood that what is considered "good" is not always the same as what is considered required to succeed. As we get older, idealism can give way to self-preservation. And oftentimes, our own personal dealings - in business, in life - are framed as us vs. them. We're supposed to be ambitious. We're supposed to care about what's best-for-business. But how do we reconcile that with being kind, nice, caring, and good? In a world that seems to constantly pit us against one another, in which we're all scraping and clawing to be able to support ourselves and build a future, isn't it inevitable that people will get trampled along the way? It sounds bad to say that, and every day I think many of us grapple with these same issues. I know I sometimes come home from work feeling like I haven't been true to myself. I've spent all day trying to seem on top of things, trying to build up my own personal "brand," as they say. And yet what gets lost in all that is often common decency and altruism. We all see that to some extent in our own lives, and we also see it every day in the world around us. We see governments that kill in the name of a supposed greater good. We see entertainment that is exploitative. We see businesses that do harm in order to help the bottom line. Our world often constantly seems to be in a state of "breaking bad." And I think that's part of the reason why the journey of Walter White is so powerful, and why it speaks to us so clearly here in 2013. Breaking Bad spurs the conversation of: at what point do you still sympathize for, even root for, Walter White? And in turn, it makes us think about how we react - in a similar fashion - to our country, to corporations, to products we consume. Breaking Bad illustrates how behind a seemingly innocent business - say, Los Pollos Hermanos - lurks a darkness, a foundation built on crime and corruption and death. It shows us how business people like Lydia sit at the top of structures that are rooted in a similar sort of rot. Sure, the top of the hierarchy is glossed over with a fine coat of paint - its head is an attractive woman in business suits and pumps. But she is just one cog in a machine that includes gangsters, thieves, and killers. She distances herself from them outwardly. But really, how is she any different? Think about Walter White - the one thing we still sympathize with him about is his love for his family. It reminds me of during political season, when no matter how reprehensible a candidate is, we're always forced to acknowledge: "he's a family man," "he loves his sons and daughters," etc. The same sympathies that we extend Walter White could be extended to any number of corrupt, morally bankrupt, evil people. And yet ...

Bruised Ego.

- At its core, Breaking Bad is a story about one man's quest to satisfy his traumatized and broken ego. And again, as loathe as we may be to admit it, who among us doesn't experience the desire for ego-boost, on some level, on a regular basis? We want credit for what we've done, compensation for work we've put in, acknowledgement from others so that we get our proper due. It's only fitting that the finale of Breaking Bad be set up to get right back to that central theme, with Walter White incited back to action after seeing his old colleagues on TV, downplaying his role in the company he helped get off the ground. Walter, for all his questionable actions throughout the course of the series, was never good at the kind of slick, subtle whitewashing that his old colleagues display. And again, in a weird way, I sort of relate. In today's world, we're bombarded with sound-bites, censorship, and revisionism. We have media outlets, politicians, corporations giving us *their* version of the truth, to the point where it takes a renegade to get to the real truth and the real, bare facts. And to that end, there is often a feeling that he who bull$%^&s best, wins. The ones who wear their hearts on their sleeves, who speak their mind, who say what they mean - they're marginalized and dismissed as cranks. And so therein lies some of Walter White's lasting appeal: he became a frequent liar and manipulator during the course of his break-bad, but he was never particularly smooth. Everything he did had an air of desperation, of reaching beyond his means. Walter pretended to be a mastermind - he became Heisenberg. He used his hat and sunglasses to become a mythical figure - a supervillain. But remember, he had the hat, the glasses, the badass shaved-head/goatee look. But he also still had the khakis, the loafers, the dorky button-down shirts. He was always out of his league, trying to be something that he was not. And for that, we can't help but feel for him. Who among us hasn't put on a mask to appear one way, knowing that it's not who we really are? But Walter needs props, clothes, mental conditioning to convince himself that he is the man who knocks. And why shouldn't he? He's smart, he's capable ... what, really, separates him from the likes of Gus Fring? We all tell ourselves this on occasion. "What makes him any better than me?" "What's he got that I don't?" And in Walt, we admire that what actually makes him more weak and frail is that he is sort of bumbling and dorky and yes, maybe even, at his core, more of a decent human being than his rivals. But the tragedy is that Walt's way of compensating is to continually boost his ego by playing fast and loose with morality. To be Gus, he's got to lie, cheat, and kill. And in the end, that's what checks a lot of our everyday ego boosts at the door. We know that maybe we *could* be that guy, but to do so, we'd have to be an asshole. We know that maybe we *could* get the upper hand in a situation, but ultimately, we'd rather be the better man, the better example, the version of ourselves that we can live with and like. Perhaps, on occasion, we fantasize about *not* being that person, about being the break-bad versions of ourselves. That could mean anything from telling someone off to speaking the truth even when the truth hurts. It could mean boosting ourselves by putting someone else down. For Walter White, when he turned that switch off, it took him on an insane journey into the heart of darkness. But as we've seen, acting in the name of ego is a very dangerous - and very often futile - path to follow.

And so, tonight I tune in to the final episode of BREAKING BAD, and man, it's going to be the end of a long and crazy and just-plain-awesome ride. Oftentimes I watch TV, and as a TV guy, I think with my ego and think "yeah, I could do better." But in this instance, I put all ego aside and simply take my hat off to Vince Gilligan and co. This is a towering achievement - not just of TV, but of storytelling. The journey of Walter - and Jesse, Hank, Skylar, Marie, Walt Jr., Saul, Gus, Mike, and the rest - it's been a wild ride. Dialogue that will forever remain in the pop-culture lexicon, characters that will forever be icons, and a narrative that has set a new bar. But even beyond that, BREAKING BAD is the quintessential moral parable of our times - the ultimate cautionary tale about the perils of the modern world.

THE SPECTACULAR NOW Presents Raw Look at Teenage Wasteland

THE SPECTACULAR NOW Review:

- There have been a number of good coming-of-age movies so far this year, but THE SPECTACULAR NOW is one more worth checking out. Featuring two break-out lead performances, from teen stars Miles Teller and Shailene Woodley, this is a film that deftly mixes comedy and tragedy and romance into one intoxicating blend. At times, the movie devolves into standard-issue soapiness. But what separates it from the pack is an aesthetic that's largely subtle, raw, and much more affecting that your average teen movie.

The film is, mostly, about the unlikely romance between Sutter (Teller) and Aimee (Woodley). Sutter is a unique sort of popular kid - not the usual jock or prep, but a smooth operator who gets by on his charm, outgoing nature, and charisma. He's like Boy Meets World's Cory Matthews with a dash of Elvis Presley. When we first meet Sutter, he's recently broken up with his girlfriend / object of infatuation Cassidy (Brie Larson, who is having a hell of a year), and still hung up on her. So when Sutter first meets geeky wallflower Aimee, his goal isn't so much to date her as it is to help boost her confidence a bit, in exchange for some tutoring. The thing is that behind Sutter's laid-back exterior are some real issues. A broken home has led Sutter to develop a serious drinking habit and some serious daddy issues. Meanwhile, Aimee has some issues of her own - not least of which is her growing attachment to Sutter.

As romance blossoms between the two, there is a very authentic-feeling courtship that goes on, that's got a lot more nuance than you typically get in this sort of movie. And what makes it work is that this isn't just about the boy-meets-girl story. Once they're together, Sutter and Aimee are forced to confront each others' deep-seated issues and fears, as each tries to help the other overcome and get past that which is holding them back.

Like I said, this is a star-making turn for Miles Teller. He makes Sutter feel less like a contrived teen movie character and more like someone you might actually have known or been friends with in high school. The movie never boxes him in or forces the character to be a cardboard cut-out, and with that sort of freedom, Teller thrives. Now, the easy criticism of the movie could have been that Aimee is just the stereotypical "dorky girl who takes off her glasses and is revealed to have been cute all along." But I think Woodley does a fantastic job here of making Aimee believably individualistic and, again, not a cardboard cutout. She's not a stereotypical geek, but rather an introverted girl who clearly undervalues herself. You can't help but root for her and Sutter - you can't help but cheer as he forces her out of her shell, and she gives him the courage to track down his absentee dad.

Eventually, Sutter's long-lost dad enters the picture - played by Kyle Chandler - and Chandler is in fine form, and really brings a strong dramatic element to the film. There are also strong supporting cast turns from Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Sutter's older sister, and from Bob Odenkirk as his boss, at the men's clothing store where Sutter has a part-time gig. But it's Woodley and Teller who power the movie's engine.

What prevents the film from reaching greatness is its overly-contrived third act. What had been a more grounded, naturalistic movie takes a turn for the melodramatic, and the film begins to take on an unintentionally campy tone. The film goes on for too long, and misses a chance to end things on a high note. Instead, the actual ending feels tacked-on and unearned, and cheesy to boot. The movie's descent into hokey-ness by no means ruins it, but it left me feeling like a film that didn't quite live up to its initial promise.

Overall though, THE SPECTACULAR NOW is a really well-done film that, for the most part, does a great job of being more than typical teen fare. The direction, tone, and rawness of the film contributes, but I chalk up a lot of the film's success to its bright young stars.

My Grade: B+

MUD Is Picturesque Adventure With Unexpected Depth

MUD Review:

- MUD is another piece of evidence in the unlikely story of Matthew McConaughey's rise from generic rom-com lead to one of the most interesting actors working in movies today. Between movies like last year's Killer Joe, and now Mud, McConaughey is now on the short list of actors whose appearance in film - especially an indie film - automatically puts it on my radar. But the actor isn't the only thing that's great about MUD. Writer/director Jeff Nichols crafts a fantastic coming-of-age tale that's like a modern-day Huck Finn - full of adventure, danger, darkness, and loss-of-innocence. It's a dark film, but also an oddly rousing one - a tale of boyhood dreams, about manhood, and love. I can't recommend it enough.

The main character of Mud is actually 14-year-old Ellis, a country boy who lives with his parents on a makeshift house-boat, along the banks of a river in Arkansas. Ellis is quiet and introspective, which makes him a good, odd-couple match for his best friend, Neckbone - a brave, smart-alecky kid who lives with his young, bachelor uncle and enjoys looking for trouble. Ellis spends a lot of time with Neckbone lately, and it's no wonder - Ellis' parents are having issues, and Ellis is eager to escape the darkness that clouds his home. One day, the two boys go to investigate a strange sight on a small island on the river - a boat that's caught up high among the treetops. The boys find that someone else has found the boat before them - a mysterious outlaw (McConaughey) known as Mud. The boys befriend him, and bring him food and other goods from beyond the island. But as they learn more about Mud and his ne'er do well ways, they increasingly get caught up in the danger that surrounds him. Many, it seems, are out to get him - the police, shady criminals - and it's all part of a strange love story, in which Mud is hiding out in hopes of a reunion with the woman who got him into this mess in the first place.

As Ellis, actor Tye Sheridan does a fantastic job, and really makes you believe in him as a boy in the midst of getting some of those hard life lessons about the way the world works. Many of those lessons come from his grizzled, gruff father Senior - played amazingly by Ray McKinnon. McKinnon is both a brute and a badass, the kind of father that, especially to a young teen, comes off as both god and devil, mentor and tormentor. He's balanced by Sarah Paulson, as his wife and Ellis' mother. Paulson has one of those oddly sweet faces that often seems to just-barely mask a darkness underneath - and that's true here. She seems like a woman who's been worn down by her husband's brooding stoicism. Sam Shepard is another actor who just knocks it out of the park in the film, playing a prickly, grumpy, shotgun-toting older neighbor who has a complicated history with Mud. Shepard is a real scene-stealer, and a total ass-kicker when called upon. Jacob Lofland is also quite good as Neckbone - his excitability a great counterpoint to Ellis' angst. Somewhat randomly, Michael Shannon appears as Neckbone's skirt-chasing uncle - it's a very un-Shannon type of role, but the actor is funny in the part. Finally, Reese Witherspoon plays Juniper, the elusive object of Mud's affections. Honestly, it's one of the best performances I've seen from Witherspoon to date - playing against type as an emotionally-manipulative and self-destructive woman.

As for McConaughey, I'm now convinced he is a lot like Bradd Pitt - at his best when playing characters who are edgy, strange, eccentric, or slightly insane. Mud is all of those things, but what makes him an endearing character is how blindly optimistic he is despite his difficult circumstances. It's no wonder the boys sort of idolize him - he's an outlaw who committed a crime of passion, and who's embraced a sort of makeshift Robinson Crusoe life on the island. He's this larger-than-life folk hero who seems genuinely heroic, and who is a gateway to a world of adventure and thrills. The ever-present smile, calm voice, and the twinkle in his eye give Mud a reassuring quality - the danger around him is very real, but Mud makes it all seem like some pulp adventure that he's a part of.

But MUD is not just about telling a pulpy adventure yarn. Instead, Nichols gets at the more grim reality behind the illusion. Ellis' learns that Mud isn't exactly the hero he thinks, and that his romance with Juniper is not exactly the star-crossed romance it seems to be. Ellis finds that love isn't quite so real or simple as he's heard. From Mud's complication relationship with Juniper, to Ellis' parents' increasingly rocky marriage, to Ellis' own shaky attempts at teenage courtship - this is a story about coming to terms with the fact that the world is a more complicated and ugly place than what we imagine as children.

Nichols shoots the film with an eye towards the scenic southern locales in which it takes place. There's a rustic, frontier quality to the film's aesthetic. Even though it takes place in the modern day, it feels like we're in a part of the country that is, in some ways, unchanged from years and even centuries past. It reminded me a little of the trapped-in-amber hills of Winter's Bone. Bottom line is that the movie looks pretty amazing, and there's a contagious spirit of adventure that permeates throughout, tinged with hints of darkness and ominous dread.

MUD is a really cool film that's both overflowing with atmosphere and character, and that also has a lot of thematic depth. Nichols (who before this, did indie flick Take Shelter) is definitely a director to watch, and McConaughey continues to have a moment where every role he touches seems to be gold.

My Grade: A-

PRISONERS Is Gripping, Ultra-Intense Tale of Vengeance

PRISONERS Review:

- PRISONERS is a dark, twisty, enthralling thriller that, despite a long running time, kept me on the edge of my seat for its duration. Going in, I wasn't familiar with director Denis Villeneuve, but he makes an incredibly strong first impression - directing the film with old-school, stark simplicity and haunting, deliberate pacing. On the flip side, the movie is filled with top-notch actors, many doing some of the best work of their careers. This is Jake Gyllenhaal doing some of his best-yet acting. It's Hugh Jackman playing a force of nature, but a much different type of character than we're used to seeing from him. It's Melissa Leo ... well, I don't even want to say, except that she's good. Real good. Meanwhile, the film deals with some very interesting, thought-provoking, and complex themes. But if there's any major flaw here, it's that I'm not fully convinced that the movie's many interrelated themes, plot-threads, and overarching ideas come together in an impactful way. But even so, I can appreciate a potboiler that also gives you a lot of thematic meat to chew on.

The movie deals with the aftermath of a double-kidnapping. The two victims? Two little girls, friends who were gathered with their families for Thanksgiving dinner. The girls decide to sneak off, but their families panic when they're nowhere to be found. On one side of the coin is Keller Dover (Hugh Jackman), a gruff survivalist whose personal motto is to always be prepared for the worst. Keller reacts to the kidnapping by going into vigilante mode - distrustful of the police, and determined to solve the case on his own. His wife, Grace (Maria Bello) is absolutely torn up by the kidnapping. She spends her days in bed, on meds, a mess of tears and pain. On the other side is Franklin Birch (Terrence Howard) and his wife Nancy (Viola Davis). Franklin gets pulled into his friend's quest for vengeance, but reluctantly so. Franklin can see that Keller is losing it - his perspective and his moral compass - in his determination to find his daughter. This manifests in Keller's insistence that the truth lies with Alex Jones (Paul Dano), a mentally handicapped man whose RV was parked nearby the two couples' homes at the time of the abduction. Meanwhile, the cop tasked with solving the kidnapping is loner Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal). Loki finds himself with the unenviable task of tracking the girls and pursuing leads, all while keeping the increasingly unstable Keller in check.

Like I said, this is a fairly towering performance from Hugh Jackman. While there's still a residual hint of Wolverine-esque badassery in Keller, this is also a more grounded, blue-collar, salt-of-the-earth type of character than we typically see from the actor. When we first meet Keller, his grim, survivalist worldview is tempered by the love and stability of his family. But when that gets ripped away from him, the darker inclinations come to the forefront. And Jackman handles that transformation wonderfully, showing us a guy who is willing to compromise his own soul in exchange for saving that of his daughter. On the other end of the spectrum, this is one of those Jake Gyllenhaal roles where the actor gets to be at his quirkiest, which to me is a good thing. After all, this is the guy who first impressed by playing a total oddball in Donnie Darko. Here, his Detective Loki is sort of fascinating. He ponders things slowly, carefully, but then is prone to rage when things don't add up. But Loki makes for a great contrast with Keller. Loki is trying to weigh all the angles, juggle all the facts. Keller is single-minded and laser-focused.

Overall, the supporting cast is quite simply stacked. If anything, I think you end up wanting even more substantial parts of top-notch actors like Bello, Howard, and Davis. That said, the movie is overripe with plot, and there just isn't time to widen the focus too much to these peripheral characters.

The bigger problem might be theme. Writer Aaron Guzikowski and Villeneuve go big. They introduce questions about vengeance, faith, god, morality, and justice. They use Keller as an example of what can happen when one man's quest for vengeance overrides his own moral compass - creating a situation in which Keller nearly becomes the bad guy in his own story. They look at the cycle of violence, and how one evil act begets another. They give the kidnapping a religious connotation: the kidnappers wage a war against god, with the terrorist-like goal of destabilizing and breaking good men: of inspiring others to inadvertently join the crusade of evil by retaliating and repeating the perpetrator's sins. All of this is good stuff - and for a while, the movie captivates, as it dangles these big questions in front of us. But these big themes don't necessarily jive with the plot's twisty nature. With each new twist, we get thrown for a surprising loop, but the big themes of the film also, to a degree, are undermined. It's hard to talk too much about without spoiling things, except to say that as the credits roll, it feels like you've been left with a hodgepodge of half-finished ideas and themes that were only explored halfway.

Still, the plot alone makes for gripping drama, and the film builds suspense - and genuine mystery - in a way that's as effective as any crime thriller we've seen in a long while. Villeneuve - along with legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins - craft a gorgeous-looking film that gives its rural, every-town setting a palpable sense of dread and foreboding. The movie feels like a throwback in many ways, and I found it refreshing. The pacing, the cinematography, the way the movie takes its time and builds and builds and lets the atmosphere take hold - it definitely feels like a film not quite of this time (and maybe that's also the Euro-ness of it all) - which ironically gives it that sort of classic, timeless feel.

PRISONERS is a pretty fascinating film, and in all honesty it's a hard one to rate. There's so much to like here, and so much that feels atypical and applause-worthy for this sort of big-screen crime procedural. Rarely does a crime movie have this much on its mind. At the same time, it's slightly frustrating because Prisoners is just shy of being a classic, in that by its end, the movie sort of collapses under its own weight. There's a lot that doesn't quite add up, and what the movie is ultimately about, what it's ultimately saying, ends up feeling a bit lost and muddled. But the ride to get there - it's still well worth taking.

My Grade: B+
 

SPRING BREAKERS Is Crazy Vision of Hell On Earth

SPRING BREAKERS Review:

- Far from being a simple bit of pop exploitation, SPRING BREAKERS is a weird-as-hell, tripped-out, pitch-black social satire that I found both fascinating and aggravating. Writer/director Harmony Korine is not the kind of guy who would ever make a normal teen beach movie. And a normal teen beach movie this is not. This is a film that's subversive, darkly funny, and very much critiquing the "spring break!" lifestyle, that, upon first glance, it seems to be celebrating. But in fact, the film seems to look out upon the bleak wasteland of youth-trash culture and cast an apocalyptic, judgmental eye upon it. Korine goes full-on scorched earth here, delivering an at-times funny, at times-scathing satire that is well worth checking out, even if only to see something completely weird and different.

Spring Breakers tell the story of four college girls who are desperate to escape their dorms and classrooms and live the crazy, party-all-night lives that to them are the nadir of existence. Their mecca is Spring Break, and they are determined to get their at all costs. Only good-girl Faith (Selena Gomez) has reservations about the whole thing, though she goes along with her friends with a disturbing sense of naivete. I say this because the girls' plans to party are tinged with a sinister streak. Their appetite for danger and destruction comes with a nihilistic, masochistic attitude - as evidenced by the other three girls, Candy, Britt, and Cotty - funding their plans through armed robbery. The three wilder girls clearly get off on holding innocent people at gunpoint, and that desire to keep pushing boundaries colors everything that comes next.

Enter James Franco's drug-dealing, cornrowed rapper Alien. Alien is sort of the lord of Spring Break, and he quickly takes the four girls under his wing. Under Alien's tutelage, the girls' evolving ideas of Spring Break glory continue to evolve. Sex and violence intermingle, and the loose morals of Spring Break transform into a brazen immorality that is less about partying and fun, and more about a numb, brain-dead youth culture who rack up real-life thrills with the emotional detachment of a junkie looking for the next fix.

Like just about all elements of the film, Franco walks the exact line between trashy, jokey badness and oddball brilliance. Somehow, it works. And at one point soon after his character's introduction, James Franco gives - no joke - one of the most memorable monologues in movie history. Taking the girls into his tricked-out, uber-tacky crib, Alien gives one of the most memorable house tours ever - in a hilarious, totally insane rant that centers around the oft-repeated mantra of: "look at all my $#%^!".

In fact, the whole movie has this kind of circular, spiral structure. Key images and phrases repeat and return throughout the film, and the effect is that of going down the rabbit hole, by way of a psychedelic mind-trip. It's almost as if Korine is trying to subject us to the same brainwashing that his characters seem have gone through. These are characters who worship at the altar of Britney Spears and Girls Gone Wild videos. These are characters who seem almost insane, yet are revealed to be part of a mass-insanity that spreads almost like a virus. This is dark stuff, disturbing stuff, and Korine presents it as downright hellish.

All that said, Korine still engages in plenty of surface-level titillation. The director casts child-actor icons like Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, and Ashley Benson as his bad girls (plus his own wife, Rachel Korine), but none brings much truly memorable to the table other than their Disney-bred pedigree. To be fair, the script portrays these girls as sort of pop-culture-slave pod people, so there isn't much for them to do except act glaze-eyed and strung out. Again, it's all a very fine line. The movie sometimes feels a bit too much like the Girls Gone Wild quasi-porn it seeks to satirize. And yet, there's undeniably that darkness there, and a real sense of contempt for its characters rather than glorification.

And so, Korine reels you in with the promise of one thing, but the end result is another thing entirely. It's not a movie glorifying spring-breakers - nope, it's a movie eviscerating 'em, going so far as to say that what they represent may very well be the death knell of the civilized world. Korine walks the line between being compelled by this world and repulsed by it. I don't think he 100% pulls off his vision. The repetition can get draggy, the pacing sometimes feels off, and there's occasionally the feeling that Korinne isn't quite sure what the hell this movie is, exactly. But he gets at something, in the movie's best moments, that makes an impression. He draws the arrow from trash-culture to apocalypse in a way that's both funny, thought-provoking, and just crazy enough to make sense.

My Grade: B+

SHORT TERM 12 Is a Heartbreaking, Uplifting, Must-See Indie

SHORT TERM 12 Review:

- Short Term 12 is a small story, but in its own way, its themes are almost staggeringly big in scope. This is a movie about how we as humans can end cycles of abuse and trauma. How we can help each other to overcome and move on. This is a story about finding humanity in a world that is often ugly and evil. This is also an intensely personal story. Writer/director Destin Cretton fills the film with so much lived-in detail, so much nuance, and such a feeling of authenticity that there can be no doubt that it's based on his own personal experiences. The fact that he brings those experiences to life in such a vibrant, heartfelt, and affecting manner is pretty remarkable. The end result is that Short Term 12 is an indie well worth checking out, and, surely, one of the must-see movies of 2013.

The film deals with a home for at-risk youth, depicting the lives of the teens who live there and the twenty-somethings who take care of them. One of those staff members, Grace (an amazing Brie Larson), can relate all too well to the kids she works with - she grew up in an abusive household, and still has her own lingering issues to work out. Her boyfriend, Mason (John Gallagher Jr.), works with her in the home, and himself is a former foster child. For each, the work day is filled with both fun and laughter, but also episodes that put them through the emotional grinder. The kids they work with can be difficult, unresponsive, or - worst case scenario - a danger to themselves or others. Grace, Mason, and the rest of the staff are there to supervise, guide, and to give the kids friendship and mentorship that they may have lacked on the outside. For Grace, it's an intensely personal job - the successes hit hard, and the failures hit harder. Things get even more personal for Grace when she begins working with a new teen, Jayden (Kaitlyn Dever of Justified), whose situation starkly mirrors Grace's own teenage struggles. Jayden's ongoing struggles open up old wounds for Grace - right at a time when she's looking to fully move on and start a new life with Mason.

It's been a while for me, but I spent five years working as a camp counselor, often dealing with kids with emotional and other issues. I also spent time as a teacher's aide at a Hebrew school in Boston, mostly as a one-on-one aide with kids with learning disabilities. Obviously it's not apples to apples as compared to the situations depicted in Short Term 12, but I will say that Cretton perfectly, 100% captures a certain atmosphere that you get when you put a bunch of twenty-somethings together, with kids, in an environment that's high-stress and emotionally-exhausting, but also, in its own way, fun and sort of crazy. A lot of the descriptions of Short Term 12 make it sound like a very heavy, serious film. And at times, it is. But what should also be noted is just how breezy and even funny the movie can be. Not in an over-the-top or overt manner, but in a very understated, naturalistic way. The movie brilliantly captures the kind of oddball, funny conversations that happen when a bunch of twenty-somethings are hanging out during a work-break. At the same time, it also has a sense of emotional rawness and intimacy that you rarely see at the movies. The quiet scenes of Grace and Mason together, at home, bristle with a realness and honesty that feels almost voyeuristic. Similarly, the scenes with the kids are oftentimes remarkable - a mixture of funny, heartbreaking, and startling.

I think it's telling that Cretton has a background with documentary filmmaking. His style is precise yet also surprisingly cinematic, in its own way. It's never overly showy, and that makes the emotionally-charged scenes in the film that much more striking, because they feel so real.

A great example involves the character of Marcus, played brilliantly by Keith Stanfield. Marcus is one of the oldest kids at the home. He's about to turn 18, which means he can't stay there for much longer. He's an African American teen who comes from a broken home. And the prospect of having to go back to that, after the relative comfort of his current digs, is weighing on him. Outwardly, he seems quiet and sullen. But you can tell there's a lot of inner rage, sadness, confusion, and emotion bubbling up on the inside. In one of the movie's most memorable scenes, Marcus shares a rap he's working on with Mason. As Mason plays a beat on a bongo drum, Marcus raps lyrics he's jotted down in a notebook. As tears well in his eyes, he unleashes a profane, profound storm of feelings, colored by resentment and anger. It's an incredible scene - funny, sad, mesmerizing, and moving all at once. The way Cretton captures it all - with a subtle, documentarian's eye - is what sells it. What could have been cheesy in any other film is, here, completely gutting.

Stanfield is fantastic in the film, as is Dever, as is the entire cast of kids. Each kid feels fully-formed, even the ones that don't get a ton of screentime. But Cretton has a way of giving them each a full inner life, through visual details in the rooms they live in, quick glimpses of their facial expressions, or even a sparse bit of dialogue that says volumes about who these characters are.

All that said, the breakout star of the movie has got to be Brie Larson. This is a phenomenal performance from a young actress who I was only vaguely familiar with going in. Larson is so good, so naturalistic as Grace - it's unbelievable. She crafts a character who you can't help but form a connection with. It's devastating when she falls back on old habits, and life-affirmingly satisfying when she has her breakthrough moments. Part of the resonance is that Grace is a character with a horrifyingly traumatic past that I can't even begin to relate to - but on some level, her struggle is everyone's struggle. Everyone wants to be able to reinvent themselves to become a better and stronger person than circumstances might otherwise dictate. And so Grace's small story of moving past personal trauma becomes this big - in-its-own-way-epic - story about overcoming adversity, and about learning from the mistakes of the old generation to help the new one.

Much of Short Term 12 is a collection of moments in the lives of Grace, Mason, and the kids they work with. Like I said, there is a lot of humor. John Gallagher Jr.does a great job of making Mason this sort of goofy, good-natured guy who helps keep Grace sane and functioning. And I got a kick out of Nate, the dorky newbie staffer at the home, who keeps doing and saying the wrong thing, despite good intentions.

There are some instances, however, where perhaps, Cretton strays from his own go-to aesthetic a bit, and gives in to the temptation to go for the big, sweeping uber-cinematic moment. So much of the movie feels naturalistic and authentic, that a key plot point in the third act feels like a bit much. It's dramatic, sure, but it feels more like a "movie moment" than a real-life one. Overall, the biggest strength of the movie is not in its couple of big, go-for-broke scenes, but in the quieter and more low-key ones.

To that end, I also really liked how art and creativity is such a big part of the film in general. Cretton keeps coming back to the idea of art-as-nutritious-for-the-soul. So much about each character in the movie is revealed through drawings they made, song lyrics they wrote, stories they composed, or food they baked. There's a creative spirit that runs through the movie that makes you want to go and just draw a picture or write a poem.

And that's why Short Term 12 proves to be such an uplifting movie, despite its at-times heavy subject matter. While there are setbacks and scary moments, this is ultimately a movie about the ability to turn pain into creativity and positivity, about decent people trying, and often succeeding, in making a difference in kids' lives. Anyone who's ever worked with kids, or mentored them, or who has kids, will, I think, find a lot of positivity to be gleaned from this film. Grace and Mason are the gatekeepers, the life-rafts that keep these troubled kids from going over the edge. They are, like I said, taking their own pain and channeling it into the enactment of positive change. It's not too far removed from the superhero ideal, in a weird way. Except that these aren't superheroes, just every day ones. And Short Term 12 does a wonderful job of celebrating them and telling their stories.

My Grade: A-

YOU'RE NEXT Is Smart, Shocking Horror-Comedy Fun

YOU'RE NEXT Review:

- I'm often hesitant to list horror among my favorite movie genres, because, to be honest, a lot of standard-issue horror movies don't do it for me. I don't like gore for gore's sake, and I don't love movies that function solely to move you, roller-coaster-ride-style, from one jump-scare to the next (unless it's done very, very cleverly - a la Paranormal Activity). But what I do love about the best horror movies is how they can push story and characters and action to the absolute extreme, and get away with it. The horror genre can give you the license to get weird, crazy, and to just be totally subversive and insane. And that subversive sense of glee - that anything-can-happen feeling - is exactly what makes YOU'RE NEXT so fun.

Let me first say a couple of things about this movie. One is - READ AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE ABOUT IT beforehand. I'm going to try to be very spoiler-free in this review. This is a movie you want to go into relatively cold. That said ... don't believe the trailers and ads for the movie! For whatever reason, the movie seems to have been marketed as a very straightforward, run-of-the-mill, home-invasion horror flick. But I would say that the movie is anything *but* run-of-the-mill. Here's what you SHOULD know going in: this movie is crazy and insane. It's very satirical and over-the-top. It most definitely falls into the "horror-comedy" genre, somewhere between the self-aware Scream movies and the over-the-top insanity of Evil Dead. Director Adam Wingard doesn't go for overt laughs, per se, but most of the movie is done with a tongue-in-cheek style and a grindhouse sensibility that will leave you alternatively laughing, wincing, and screaming "holy $#%&!"

Yep, YOU'RE NEXT has some of the craziest, most jaw-dropping, most "WTF just happened?" moments of any horror movie in years. Some of that is due to the sheer insanity of some of the movie's events. But a lot of it also stems from a smart, clever script that very cannily throws twist after twist at you. The movie this becomes is most definitely not the movie you originally thought you were getting into. But what's sort of brilliant is how the movie flips the script in a way that feels organic, yet still produces plenty of shocking moments.

Here's the basic premise of the film: a wealthy, middle-aged couple is celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary by inviting their grown children and their respective significant others to stay for the weekend at their isolated summer home. From moment one, there's tension and infighting among the various siblings. But things get *really* bad when a group of animal mask-clad killers descend upon the family's home, seemingly intent on picking off the family members one by one, for reasons that are, initially, unknown.

But rest assured, that's just the beginning.

Like I said though, the script is what really sets this one apart. The characters are all set up in a highly effective manner, and we keep learning new things about them and their relationships with each other as the movie progresses. There's a lot of dark humor in the dialogue, and there are a lot of highly-quotable lines - many of which I think will live in horror movie infamy for a long while. Give credit to writer Simon Barrett for on one hand, grounding the movie with great characters, and on the other hand, taking them to extreme places in memorable fashion.

I've also got to give credit to Wingard for some really inventive direction. The movie's low budget shows, at times, but man ... Wingard makes up for it with sheer go-for-broke craftiness. He also isn't afraid to give the movie a slow build. The movie takes its time establishing the characters, setting a mood, and building up tension for what is to come. And it shows its hands very carefully, doling out information at a deliberate pace. But when the action does ramp up, it explodes in ways that are guaranteed to leave jaws on floors. I've also got to mention the movie's incredibly badass score - Carpenter-style synth that sets the perfect retro-cool tone for the movie.

The cast of mostly unknowns (save for horror icon Barbara Crampton, who plays the family matriarch) is quite good. And the fact that they are not familiar faces adds to the movie's feeling of unpredictability. But I will say this: Sharni Vinson owns this movie. I won't say how, or why, but only that when the movie is over, you'll  likely be a member of her fan club. Vinson and other cast members were, by happenstance, sitting behind me in the theater when I saw the film, and I felt genuinely psyched for them as I watched. She and the rest of the cast kick some serious ass.

YOU'RE NEXT just keeps getting crazier as it goes, culminating in an instant-classic finale that hits like a sledgehammer. When it was over, I walked out of the theater giddily happy and ultra-hyped - I was on a total cinematic high. You'll want to watch this one with friends, or, ideally, with a big audience in a packed theater. This is a movie that elicits major crowd reactions, and that's half the fun. So many horror films go for those same kinds of reactions, but most do so with standard-issue jump scares. But YOU'RE NEXT isn't just about scaring you with loud noises or things popping out at you. It's about creating genuinely-earned moments of real shock, horror, and laugh-out-loud insanity through sheer cleverness and inventiveness and surprise. All of this adds up to one of the most fun and surprising horror movies in a long, long time.

My Grade: A-

THE WORLD'S END Is a World-Conquering Capper to Wright, Pegg, and Frost's Modern-Classic Trilogy

THE WORLD'S END Review:

- Shaun of the Dead. Hot Fuzz. Two modern action/comedy classics from director Edgar Wright and lead actors Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. Well, add one more to the list. THE WORLD'S END is right up there with the other two entries in Wright's thematically-linked "Cornetto Trilogy." In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that it might just be the best film of the three - a perfect finale to the series that mixes laugh-out-loud comedy, sci-fi insanity, and genuine pathos. One of the best, funniest, and craziest movies of the year, The World's End is also one of the smartest and most emotionally rich. How many movies can both give you a feeling of "this is awesome" in the moment, yet also give you plenty to chew on after leaving the theater? And how many of those will also cause you to laugh your ass off? It's that potent combo that puts the movies of Edgar Wright in a class of their own.

While the first two entries in the Cornetto trilogy were overt genre-spoofs right from the get-go, THE WORLD'S END takes its time to get to the sci-fi weirdness. But all of that build-up is worth it, and the result is a movie that, honestly, could have worked even without the sci-fi (though let's face it, the sci-fi stuff makes it all the sweeter). Wright takes so much time establishing these characters though that there is a real, sincere humanity to the film. And a lot of that centers around Pegg's Gary King.

In his teenage years, Gary took his last name literally. He fancied himself king of the world - a black-clad punk who, along with his posse of young hooligans, raised both middle fingers to the world and felt poised to take it over. Flash-forward to twenty years later, and Gary is still the exact same Gary King he was in high school. Problem is, at age 40, that makes him a pretty pathetic loser - an irresponsible, self-destructive drunk - still living in the past and unable to grow up or mature. Gary tends to look back, not forward, and so he gets in in his head to revisit the most fondly-remembered - yet woefully uncompleted - adventure from his teen years - the Golden Mile pub crawl that he and his mates attempted as teens, back in their hometown of Newton Haven. The crawl was to have seen the gang get a pint each at twelve local pubs, culminating in a final drink at the pub known as The World's End. But alas, the Golden Mile was never finished, and now, decades later, Gary sees finishing the crawl as a way to recapture his lost youth.

It is also, of course, a way for Gary to reconnect with the old gang. While Gary King refused to grow up, his old pals have, perhaps, grown up too much. Martin Freeman's Oliver Chamberlain (aka "The O-Man") became a blue-tooth headset, suit-clad bore. Eddie Marsan's Peter Page became a meek introvert, still haunted by teenage traumas. Paddy Considine's Steven Prince became a douchey car salesman, divorced and dating a young trophy girlfriend while still harboring feelings for his high school crush, Oliver's sister Sam (Rosamund Pike). And then there's Nick Frost's Andy Knightley (see any theme with these character names?), who was once Gary's partner in crime and best friend. Andy, once a party animal who never met a pint he didn't like, is now stone-cold sober. Working in a corporate office, he's a different man than the teenage troublemaker that Gary once knew. What's more, Andy has deep-seated resentment for his old friend Gary after a long-past incident that caused a rift between the two. Suffice it to say, Gary hasn't talked to or seen most of the old gang in years, and so rounding them up to once again tackle the Golden Mile won't be easy.

But somehow, he convinces them. The old gang reunites for a trip to Newton Haven. All but Gary are reluctant. All but Gary realize that you truly can't go home again. All but Gary think this is a pretty terrible idea. But as drinks are had and old wounds are laid bare, Gary realizes that something is amiss in his home town.

All of Gary's fears - and all the fears of anyone who was once a cool kid but is now aging - seem to be coming to literal life. Fear that local haunts are becoming homogenized and gentrified. Fear that no one remembers your name or who you were - that you've faded into obscurity. Fear that today's youth doesn't appreciate all the cool stuff that you grew up with. Fear that your once-fun friends are being replaced by suit-and-tie-wearing pod people who've been sapped of their souls by the corporate machine.

Well, turns out, there might be more to Gary's fears than the everyday anxieties of an aging dude approaching middle age. It turns out there may be some *really* crazy $#%& going on in Newton Haven, and it just may be that Gary and his mates are about to witness the literal World's End even as they make their way to the fabled pub of the same name.

When THE WORLD'S END goes full-on sci-fi nuts in its second half ... man, it's glorious. Edgar Wright - as we know from Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and Scott Pilgrim vs. The World - can direct madcap, insane action with stylistic aplomb. He's got a knack for crafting absolutely applause-worthy, hilarious, crazy-ass action that's pretty much unmatched. Most of his movies don't have the slick f/x or high budgets of big Hollywood summer tentpoles, and so there's a manic, hand-crafted, "what the hell, why *not* do this?" aspect to the action that only adds to the sense of fun. But it all starts with the characters. Even as Gary King learns to be there for his friends and not always duck out when there's trouble, the rest of the guys learn to loosen up a bit and find some of their old, youthful fire. Seeing Nick Frost's Andy get progressively drunker and crazier as the movie goes on - fighting like a man possessed (even utilizing many classic WWE-style wrestling moves in the process) - my god, it's a thing of beauty.

Here's the thing though ... it would have been very easy for Wright to make this a simple comedy about old friends getting hammered and happy and working out all their problems. But this is a much more complex and nuanced movie than that. Wright throws in plenty of fantastic, "hell yeah!" sorts of moments that will keep you grinning throughout. But he also never gives in to the temptation to make the film simply a celebration of beer and never growing old. In fact, Gary is the movie's most misguided and troubled character. And for much of the movie, *he* is the asshole. Sure, his friends are a bit uptight. But while they might have a little to learn from Gary, Gary has *a lot* to learn from them. In particular, Andy, whose seemingly boring life is actually a fulfilling one for him, and one that took a lot of guts to create and uphold. Wright smartly doesn't make this movie about proving that either Gary or Andy's life choices were "right." Wright shows us that there's something to be said for Gary's unwillingness to conform, just as there's also something to be said for Andy's maturity, sobriety, and dedication to his family.

At this point, let me stop for a moment to just heap praise upon Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. I think this movie cements them as one of the great comedic duos. The fact that they have so much real-life, genuine affection for one another makes their on-screen chemistry that much more natural and hilarious. And that much more heartbreaking when we see their characters at odds. The World's End rather brilliantly subverts the usual Pegg-Frost relationship, tearing it down only to build it back up again as the movie goes.

The rest of the supporting cast is also quite good. Martin Freeman, Eddie Marsan, Paddy Considine, and Rosamund Pike are all excellent, and work great together and with Pegg and Frost. And there are a ton of great bit parts and cameos littered throughout the movie. My favorite? A dapper Pierce Brosnan as an old teacher of Gary and Andy's, who proves to be not quite what he seems.

The World's End is, in fact, one of the most dense movies you're likely to see. Not only is each scene packed with dialogue-driven gems and blink-and-you'll-miss-'em visual gags, but there is, like I said, a ton of thematic meat to chew on. I suspect that the movie's epilogue, for example, is going to be discussed and debated among film geeks for many years to come - what does it all mean? How do the strange circumstances that Gary and Andy find themselves in reflect back on the overarching themes of the film? There is that level of food-for-thought to be found here, but there's also another level of just pure hilarity. All I'll say is that the climactic scene of Gary and Andy confronting the movie's Big Bad is a classic - drop-dead funny and raise-your-fist-high awesome.

There is a bit of a feeling of melancholy here. The World's End feels like a definite end to this era of Edgar Wright's career. And you have to wonder: is he too grappling with the same extremes embodied by Gary and Andy in the film? Does he continue to do these scrappy, indie, anything-goes genre mash-ups? Or does he go corporate and "grow up?" I think what makes this movie so resonant is that in some way, we all ask ourselves this same question. And the movie's epilogue sort of says, in a way, that the movies and fantasy and sci-fi present this compelling third option - imagined worlds where epic adventure and thrilling battles go hand-in-hand with the act of becoming a grown-man or grown-woman. It's like Wright and co-writer Pegg end up admitting that they aren't fully satisfied that with either the Gary or Andy way of life, and so hey, here's this other way, and "wouldn't it be great if ..?".

And it's on that note that I think THE WORLD'S END just might be its own sort of masterpiece. And purely as a fan, I have to say a hearty thank you to Wright, Pegg, and Frost for fighting the good fight and making movies that are hilarious, badass, and heartfelt all the same. If this is indeed the end, it's been a hell of a ride.

My Grade: A