November 26, 2015

REVIEW: Kung Fury


Despite being born in the mid-90's, I've always had a real fondness for the media that came from the 1980's. Even though I wasn't born then, I was raised on movies like The Goonies and games like Duck Hunt; it was the kind of stuff that shaped the older, cooler people I knew, and therefore carried a sort of mystique that pushed me to explore things that were released before I was born. With my love of the 80's, I was naturally very excited for Kung Fury, a Swedish spoof that was funded entirely by Kickstarter and released earlier this year. The trailer looked promising and the 80's as a decade is so thoroughly ripe for comedic fodder; it's a period of time with near universal recognizability and appeal. It seems like the kind of project that would be almost impossible to botch, but Kung Fury somehow found a way to be bland, boring, and unfunny all at the same time.


Taking place in the year 1985, the plot follows the titular Kung Fury (David Sandberg), a Miami police officer with kung-fu superpowers. After a time-traveling Adolf Hitler (The Lonely Island's Jorma Taccone) attacks his precinct, Kung Fury enlists the help of the appropriately named Hackerman (Leopold Nilsson) to send him back in time. Once he is accidentally sent too far back, Kung Fury finds himself adventuring across time itself to accomplish the objectively noble goal of stopping Hitler. If that sounds like the kind of plot that was entirely developed over the course of an afternoon, that's because that's exactly the kind of plot it feels like too. Kung Fury is by far the shortest movie I've ever watched for this blog, clocking in at just over thirty minutes; I'm almost grateful for this, since I don't think I could have taken an extra hour of what little Kung Fury has to offer. This is an over-the-top parody with barely any real, genuine humor. There's some tongue-in-cheek puns and a lot of absurd action, but rarely is there ever an actual joke with a set-up and a payoff; instead, we get a lot of visual cues and references that I think are meant to be funny, but which I didn't laugh at once. If you decide to watch this movie, I hope you like dinosaurs, because Kung Fury seems to find them inherently hilarious for some reason.



These sort of "non-jokes" rarely pay off in any way; the only one I found even mildly amusing was Hitler's first appearance, in which he shoots a person through a cell phone. The only reason this joke works at all is because it is stolen whole-sale from Danger 5, an acclaimed Australian show about a team of international spies attempting to thwart Adolf Hitler. Plagiarism aside, this movie comes off as something that a bunch of people who have never watched an 80's action flick assume the 80's was like. It's a parody of a parody of the 80's and ends up being too ridiculous for its own good, to the point that it assumes a bunch of absurd, flashy visuals can stand in for humor. The whole thing is like an R-rated farce targeted at 12-year olds; there's swearing and yelling and comical gore, but that's literally as deep as any of the jokes go. Random humor can work well if used sparingly by talented people, but Kung Fury is nothing aside from neon fart-huffing from beginning to end.

It's the kind of movie that completely, 100% banks on the punchline being "the 80's", yet it barely has any connection to the era that it's supposedly lampooning. Yes, there's shots where we see a DeLorean and a character wears a Nintendo Power Glove and David Hasselhoff appears in an utterly cringe-worthy Knight Rider-esque cameo, but the main influences for the majority of this film seem to come from Streets of Rage (1991), Mortal Kombat (1992), and Jurassic Park (1993). It's not as if the 80's is an era lacking in subject matter to lampoon in an over-the-top action farce. Black Dynamite is a similar film that, unlike Kung Fury, actually worked because, while it was over-the-top, it kept itself rooted in the era and aesthetic it was trying to capture and portray. Kung Fury is just too all over the place; the jokes, plot, and set-up to the entire film more or less amount to "someone wacky does something wacky". There's a moment where the main character is attacked by a "laser-raptor". It's very clear that this is meant to generate a big laugh, despite there being no joke aside from the idea of a laser-raptor being more than a little ridiculous. It's random, sure, but it's not a joke. There's no finesse, no substance, and no cleverness to it, which is coincidentally a statement that more or less sums up Kung Fury as a whole.


While I admit that the visuals are honestly very impressive given the budget, and the fact that this film was made entirely through crowdfunding is an accomplishment in and of itself, it still stands that Kung Fury plays like a failed viral video made by the self-appointed nerdy/funny guy in a college screenwriting class. The jokes are either utterly cringe-inducing or nonexistant, the pacing is roughly equivalent to a candy wrapper that's been swept up by a raging river, and the entire thing is like watching a community theater troupe act out the cutscenes to Far Cry: Blood Dragon (only the cutscenes are no longer funny and you don't get to play a cool game afterwards). Kung Fury represents the 80's the way Panda Express represents Cantonese cuisine; it's all style and absolutely no substance and the only way I could see myself enjoying this is if I was twelve and easily amused by internet memes. This is the part where I'd say something like, "if you enjoy X, you should watch Kung Fury", except there's no real reason to watch Kung Fury. It's not even really entertainingly bad, it's more just a crummy way to waste a half an hour. If you really need a fix of over-the-top 80's action, go play Double Dragon Neon; I guarantee it'll be a better use of your time.

November 19, 2015

REVIEW: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles


I've always wondered why there never seem to be any movies focused on Thanksgiving. There's dozens of films about Halloween and likely even more about Christmas, but Thanksgiving seems to forever be the redheaded stepchild of the Autumn/Winter holiday trifecta. It's not as if it's a holiday with no potential for entertainment or storytelling; it's a time of the year that revolves around often chaotic family gatherings, absurd amounts of food, and the barbaric blood-rite known as Black Friday. Along with all of that, it's got a strong moral center of togetherness and thankfulness while not allying itself with any particular faith or religion. Thanksgiving is by all intents a perfectly marketable subject for a feature film, so one has to wonder why there are so few movies that take advantage of this. After having watched John Hughes' 1987 comedy, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, I can only guess it's because no one expects to top what is essentially the perfect thing to watch with the family once the turkey's been devoured.


Neil Page (Steve Martin) is an ad executive working in New York; it's two days before Thanksgiving and he's promised his wife and children that he'd be home in Chicago in time for the family dinner. After a streak of bad luck, Neil finds himself stranded in Wichita alongside Del Griffith (John Candy), a chatty traveling salesman. The two embark on a journey to be home in time for Thanksgiving (a journey that, as one would expect, involves planes, trains, AND automobiles) which quickly devolves into pure and utter chaos at every single opportunity. This is one of those films like Bringing Up Baby or National Lampoon's Vacation; every possible thing that can go wrong, does. Our protagonists are put through a comic gauntlet, where their simple holiday commute becomes more of a biblical trial, a voyage worthy of Odysseus himself. Just when things start looking up for Neil and Del, yet more punishment and misfortune is heaped upon them, testing both their will and their sanity.


This is the kind of film where the comedy is born from a deftly orchestrated relationship between our characters and the situations they find themselves in. The movie takes the time to set up the joke, let the scene play out, and then spring the punchline on us; we know the payoff is coming, but the execution is what catches the viewer off-guard and makes the film work. It's far from high-concept, but it runs like a well-oiled comedy machine, generating consistent laughs for essentially the entire runtime. 

As well-written as it is, a buddy-comedy is only as strong as the dynamic between its two main characters. Thankfully, Martin and Candy work brilliantly off one another. At first glance, it appears to be your standard straight-man/funny-man setup, but the film goes for something a little deeper than that. The characters of Neil and Del are fleshed out more than one would expect, each one showcasing individual moments of brilliance and buffoonery. Neither of these characters ends up becoming a cartoon, so we still feel some sense of connection with both of them; we care about who they are and where they're going, despite their personal faults and failings. It's because we relate to them and want to see them succeed that the comedy works in a fantastically cringe-inducing sort of way. It's emotional slapstick; it's funny because it's not you, but it's endearing because it easily COULD be you.


Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is one of those utterly timeless films that's definitely earned its reputation as a classic. No matter who you are, we've all felt that pressure of being late or delayed; this is a film that blatantly feeds off of those feelings and makes comedic gold out of our anxiety. John Candy and Steve Martin give some of the best performances of their careers, bouncing wildly quotable bits of dialog off one another in every hilarious, heartwarming, memorable scene. If you're burned-out on football and can't stand the thought of surfing through a sea of commercials hawking Black Friday deals and Christmas savings, then I highly recommend you gather the family around and pop this gem in for a watch. Like a good Thanksgiving dinner, there'll be smiles, laughter, and good feelings all around.

November 12, 2015

REVIEW: Atlantis- The Lost Empire


Atlantis: The Lost Empire is one of the few films I've reviewed for this blog that I had actually seen before. Like The Master of Disguise, it was one of those movies that I distinctly remember renting as a child. Thankfully, unlike The Master of Disguise, Atlantis did nothing but improve with age. As a kid, I recall not being overly fond of this film's more serious tone and dialog heavy scenes (compared to the brighter Disney fare that was released around the same time). However, as time has gone on, I've come to really appreciate the distinctly Jules-Vernian action and adventure the movie has to offer.

Taking place in 1914, the plot follows linguist and philospher, Milo Thatch (Michael J. Fox). Reduced to a laughing stock at the Smithsonian Institute for his extensive research on the mythical lost city of Atlantis, Thatch finds himself recruited by the enigmatic and wealthy Preston Whitmore (John Mahoney). Whitmore, a former colleague of Milo's grandfather, has come into possession of an ancient tome known as the Shepherd's Journal, a book said to lead those who can decipher it directly to the resting place of Atlantis. Along with a crack team of engineers and excavation experts, Milo sets off on a journey to uncover what secrets lie at the bottom of the ocean.


The first thing I would like to call attention to is something about the plot that only became apparent to me during the film's climax. Here we have a story about a young man whose deceased father figure would regale him with stories about a mythical lost city. He finds himself developing a bond with the princess of this civilization, a young lady who wears a glowing crystal around her neck; this crystal is the key to everything, keeping the civilization alive while also controlling an army of giant, robotic guards who protect the city with their lives. The young man boards a series of fantastical ships and crafts, adventuring to this lost city with a team of colorful mercenaries. Eventually, he is betrayed by the head military type, who suffers a horrible demise. The film ends on an optimistic note, implying the civilization will rebuild and thrive once more. If this sounds at all familiar to fans of the works of Hayao Miyazaki, that's because the plot of 2001's Atlantis: The Lost Empire bears a striking resemblance to that of 1986's Castle in the Sky.

Now I'm not implying that this is a case of plagiarism, but it's obvious to anyone who's seen both films that Atlantis had to have been heavily inspired by Castle in the Sky. If it wasn't then that's surely a monumental coincidence; it's not as if "life-crystal-wearing princess of a lost civilization" is a well-established character trope in creative fiction. Similarities aside, I feel that Atlantis definitely stands on its own. While the work of Studio Ghibli is objectively gorgeous to look at, Atlantis showcases some of the best animation of one of the most visually impressive eras in Disney's history, boasting revolutionary use of computer animation and a fantastic art style brought to us in-part by Mike Mignola, creator of Hellboy.


As excellent as the visuals and voice cast are, the film somewhat suffers when it comes to characterization and story structure. The pace fluctuates from incredibly fast to surprisingly slow with little middle ground in between. Characters are fun to watch, well-written and well-acted, but there's hardly an arc to be found amongst them. This is a movie that relishes being a pulpy, sci-fi adventure and not much more. While this may sound like a point against the film, Atlantis is by and large a movie that knows exactly what it wants to accomplish and does so with skill and style. The antagonist is an overtly evil metaphor for the dangers of capitalism and imperialism, the hero doesn't have any real flaws despite some social awkwardness, and the princess only enters the story about halfway through. Despite all this, the villain is excellent, the hero is likeable, and Kida (Cree Summer) manages to be one of the best Disney princesses in ages.


What Atlantis: The Lost Empire lacks in depth, it more than makes up for in sheer charisma. It's a World War I-era pulp adventure that takes advantage of the medium of animation to bring us something wholly larger than life. While the characters aren't particularly dynamic, they're portrayed by an excellent cast of talented actors working off of a smartly-written script. It's not perfect, but it's definitely something unique that proves that Disney is capable of making something other than the tried-and-true fairy tale musical/comedy. If you're looking for something daring from the end of the Disney Renaissance with more gruesome death than showtunes, definitely give Atlantis a watch.

November 5, 2015

REVIEW: The Visitors


The Visitors is one of those films that I constantly remember seeing on the shelf of my local Blockbuster many years ago. This specific poster was not only on the cover of the VHS, but on Netflix. The image of a stereotypical knight in hip shades and carrying a stop sign for some reason conjures images of a radical 90's comedy, probably starring Paulie Shore. There'd be jokes about time-traveling knights experiencing things like skateboards and Nintendo games, they'd probably befriend some kid and help him fight his jean-vest-wearing bullies; it writes itself. Just looking at it, one would have absolutely no idea that this is actually a French film starring Jean Reno. 



The film concerns Godefroy de Montmirail (Reno), a stalwart knight in the year 1123. After an accident involving a witch-induced hallucination and a crossbow, a disgraced Godefroy seeks the assistance of a local wizard. The wizard concocts a potion to send Godefroy back in time to prevent his accident from ever taking place, but ends up hurling the knight and his vassal, Jacquouille (Christian Clavier), forwards through the ages, stranding them in far-off 1993. Anachronistic antics ensue as the two attempt to adjust to modern life while conversely trying to concoct a new potion and return home.

It's standard stuff, and it's a real shame that the plot doesn't offer more surprises. There's a few interesting moments (such as when Godefroy's signet ring is both on his finger and in a display case at the same time) that are altogether unexplored. The only time the film really thinks outside the box is in regards to Jacquouille's descendant, Jacquard (also played by Clavier). When you're given a concept that involves time travel and magic, literally anything is possible. However, the film plays it safe to a fault; what's here is for the most part good, but it could have definitely been something more.



While it may have been due to the obvious language barrier, I found the script to be pretty repetitive and clunky at times. There's a lot of dialog that goes seemingly nowhere (when one would expect it to be used to set up a joke down the line) and the entire second act is a slog, using the same formula over and over again (the time travelers are confused about modern times, they break something, Godefroy's descendant's husband reacts angrily). There's also a few moments early on that imply some sort of romantic feelings between Godefroy and his descendant, Béatrice (Valérie Lemércier, who is under the impression that the knight is actually her long-lost cousin, suffering from amnesia). Whether or not the incestuous undertones are meant to be played off as a joke, I found it simply didn't jive with the tone of the rest of the film. That said, there are more than a few really excellent lines here and there (particularly the running gag of adding "-eth" onto the end of common words or Jacquoiulle's enthusiasm for repeating modern words and phrases) and the physical humor is all top-knotch. I never would have guessed Jean Reno could be so adept at slapstick, but he and Clavier work excellently together. There isn't much high-concept humor here, but the performances of the main characters are what sells it. It's not all gold, but when it works, it works well.


Despite its sometime repetitive nature and mediocre second act, I still found The Visitors to be a fun time. It's nothing revolutionary and the first act is easily the best part of the movie, but it could have certainly been far worse, given the premise. When you look at the type of comedy that was prevalent in the 90's and marry that with a concept like "a medieval knight is transported through time to 1993", it's something of a small miracle that this turned out to actually be a charming, funny, and for the most part clever flick.