REVIEW: Alien Abduction

Why aren't there more movies about alien abductions? It's such a classic part of North American folklore, you'd expect that bug-eyed monsters would get at least as much play in the realm of horror cinema as demonic possessions or ghost children. I feel as though it's an untapped well of potential; aside from the obvious "based on a true story" mystique, there's also the inherent fear associated with the unknown encroaching upon familiar territory. The concept of flying saucers snatching up farm animals may seem quaint by today's standards, but it shouldn't be difficult at all to make an effective horror movie involving ordinary, relatable people getting snatched from their beds by strange creatures for god knows what purpose. In hindsight, there are a decent number of movies that fit that description, so perhaps I should rephrase my original question; why aren't there more good movies about alien abductions? It seems that, if you want to watch a movie about UFOs making people disappear, you'll have to settle for mediocre trash like the aptly-titled Alien Abduction.

Taking the form of found footage (oh joy), the film follows the Morris family on their camping trip in Brown Mountain, North Carolina. The youngest member of the Morris clan, Riley (Riley Polanski), is keeping a video journal of the vacation as a means of coping with his autism (in case you're wondering, this is the most well-thought-out part of the movie). The film wastes no time getting right to the point, spoiling the ending in the first few minutes (surprise, the Morris family is abducted by aliens), building absolutely no suspense as to what's behind the mysterious happenings that plague Brown Mountain. Riley gets clear and objective footage of several alien spacecraft in the beginning of the film and his parents (who may or may not have seen the recording, it's not made clear) decide to head right into the mysterious woods without first getting gas, completely blasé in regards to the ominous humming lights that harassed their campsite the night prior. This is a family that is just begging for an anal probe.

The film admittedly comes close to understanding suspense and tension a few times; to be perfectly honest, the Morrises are stuck in a genuinely horrifying situation. The gangly visitors are essentially everywhere, they have no cell phone service, and being in a vehicle doesn't offer much help once the lights start flashing. The one decent use of the found footage format (when it's not being flung around wildly in a false attempt at conveying tension) comes in the form of the screen flickering and glitching out whenever the invaders are nearby. Normally their arrival is heralded by bright floodlights and obnoxious humming, but there are a few select scenes where the image quality will drop slightly, implying danger is just around the bend. These are the parts of the film that work. The other 94% of the film simply doesn't.

Tension only works when characters are both likable and competent. Unfortunately, the characters here are neither. Everyone is utterly one-note, making idiotic decisions at the drop of a hat. It feels as though every adult male character knows they're in a horror movie and wishes to go out like a hero. In this film, the concept of "heroic sacrifice" basically equates to "throw yourself at the alien invaders for no reason when you would be a much bigger help tagging along for later". It's not exactly hard to come up with reasons for people to be killed off by saucermen, so I'd think "suicide by alien" would be pretty far down the list. The movie tells us everything right off the bat, not even attempting to create a mystery as to what the primary threat could be (as if the title wasn't damming enough), but it decides to play coy in terms of the visuals (likely due to restrictions in both the budget and imagination departments). This creates a dissatisfying feeling for the entire movie; the film tells us basically everything, but shows us practically nothing. If it had gone for the 100% subtle approach, the atmosphere would have been that much stronger and the scares would be that much more effective. Instead we have a horror movie where the only dramatic tension comes care of anticipating the next lazy jump-scare (which usually just turns out to be the camera stuttering around or something popping into frame).

Alien Abduction is a concept that could be so easily re-tooled into something genuinely scary. Fear of the unknown is about as primal a fear as there is, and the unknown is essentially the alien genre's bread and butter. It would be so easy to exploit the audience's lack of knowledge about the primary threat to come up with something unique and surprising. Instead, it comes off as generic, lazy, and often laugh-out-loud funny. At one point during the climax, it literally turns into a game of Slender, with our protagonist wandering through the dark woods, his camera going fuzzy whenever a skinny-limbed monster was near. The concept of alien abduction, while often parodied, is objectively terrifying at its core. It works from every angle; there's the immediate fear of being captured or killed, but there's also the greater discomfort conjured by the sheer implications raised by little green men dissecting human beings. You could go literally anywhere with it, and Alien Abduction chooses to go nowhere. Aside from the mediocre script, dull performances, and cheap production values, that is truly the film's greatest sin.

REVIEW: Ed Wood

It's no secret that I'm a tremendous fan of the early works of Tim Burton; while his more recent turnout has left me wanting, it's inarguable that the man possesses a great knack for thematic styling, showcasing the strange and unorthodox in the spotlight it is so frequently denied. Like Batman and Beetlejuice, Ed Wood is the story of a societal outcast in a world that seldom understands or appreciates what they have to offer. Unlike those other films, however, I believe that Ed Wood alone holds the distinction of being Burton's finest work of all time.

Taking the form of a pseudo-biography, the film follows the man who would go on to be known as the worst director of all time, Edward D. Wood Jr (Johnny Depp). Struggling to break into the film industry, Wood finally gets his shot after befriending aging horror icon, Bela Lugosi (Martin Landau); even though Lugosi's career was essentially over, his remaining star power is enough to jumpstart production of Wood's first feature film, Glen or Glenda. What follows is the story of an eternal optimist, never giving up on his dreams despite essentially the entire world imploring him to do so. While the events shown in the film aren't exactly 100% accurate (it's been said that the real Lugosi never possessed such a penchant for profanity), the overall story is put together in such a fashion that capturing the spirit of Ed Wood and his cohorts is the primary goal (which the film accomplishes soundly).

Surprisingly, this is one of the few Tim Burton films that lacks the more recognizable staples of his signature aesthetic. As the plot is based on a true story, the whole thing is more reliant on the characters to drive the tone and emotion. Burton's visual flair is still very much present, just moreso understated and subtle than usual, and the film is better off for it. Shooting the film in black and white is a stroke of brilliance; like Young Frankenstein, this is a movie that simply would not work nearly as well had it been shot in color. The grayscale adds just the perfect old Hollywood tone that completely immerses the viewer in the time period. There's also some truly magnificent camerawork and shot composition at play here; for instance, take note of the first and last times we see Martin Landau as Bela Lugosi on screen. Scenes and shots from Wood's various films were recreated with admirable attention to detail, and it's the clear amount of effort given to seemingly negligible minutia like this which makes this film so much fun to watch. It's a feast for the eyes that manages to establish a strong emotional connection to the viewer to boot.

The performances here are all top-knotch; not a single weak link exists within this cast. The role of Ed Wood was the part Johnny Depp was born to play; there's not a single person who comes to mind who could do the job better. Depp's notorious for being something of a chameleon when the part is anything beyond "weird guy in a weird hat", and Ed Wood is no exception. He completely buries himself in the part; everything from his inflections to his eyebrows convey his tireless optimism and dedication to making his movies, no matter the cost. Martin Landau's portrayal of Bela Lugosi won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, an accolade that is well-deserved. He plays Lugosi in a way that is hilarious for the same reason it's so heartbreaking; we get to see this iconic actor end up a foul-mouthed, misanthropic old has-been, which is really quite funny, except for when it's not. The film doesn't shy away from Bela Lugosi's very real battle with morphine addiction, and it never ceases to cause a chill whenever it's brought up. Depp and Landau share a magical chemistry on-screen, resulting in one of the most genuinely feel-good cinematic friendships I've ever seen.

The supporting cast is littered with great talent like Sarah Jessica Parker, Bill Murray, and Jeffery Jones. Special consideration must be given to George "The Animal" Steele, for his spot-on portrayal of Tor Johnson; whether this is a testament to his acting ability or an unintended insult, he does an amazing job regardless. Vincent D'Onofrio has a short cameo as Orson Welles, with an uncredited Maurice LeMarche providing the voice. While the dub is a bit jarring at first, the effect is really quite uncanny and made for one of my favorite scenes in the entire film. As I said before, this is very much a character-driven film, so it's monumentally important that the cast is as strong as it is. If the majority of the performances were mediocre, the majority of the film would be mediocre. Fortunately, the performances here are fantastic, and the rest of the film follows suit.

Ed Wood is an all-around wonderful film. It's a look at one of the most bizarre visionaries to ever live that manages to be just as earnest as its main character. While the films of Edward D. Wood Jr are remembered as "so bad they're good" at best, Ed Wood does not seek to make fun. Rather, it celebrates the titular director's legacy, not for what it was, but for what he as a filmmaker represented. The integrity of an artist's vision, the tireless pursuit of one's dreams, and the constant reminder that you should always appreciate your own work, as there is no guarantee that anyone else will. If you haven't seen this yet, you're truly missing out. It's a love-letter to the underdogs that fits like a fresh angora sweater. Check it out.

REVIEW: The Big Lebowski

The Big Lebowski is one of my favorite films of all time. I could watch it a million times over and discover something new with each viewing. It combines elements of comedies, mysteries, westerns, and film noir, while at the same time taking inspiration from the works of authors such as Raymond Chandler and Mark Twain. While it was hardly a runaway hit when it opened in March of 1998, the film has gone on to become a cult classic, the namesake for two different breeds of African spider, and the basis of an entire religion. Suffice to say, it's a masterpiece. Sit on back, crack open a good sarsaparilla, and allow me to explain why.

The movie begins in 1991 Los Angeles with a case of mistaken identity; after being accosted by two thugs, Jeffery "The Dude" Lebowski (Jeff Bridges, in the role he was born to play) seeks compensation from the other Jeffery Lebowski (the late David Huddelston), a crippled billionaire. It seems this Lebowski's young trophy wife, Bunny (Tara Reid), had accumulated a sizable debt with a porn producer/loan shark by the name of Jackie Treehorn (Ben Gazzara), and his goons attempted to collect from The Dude by mistake. Everything seems cut-and-dry until Lebowski contacts The Dude, informing him that Bunny has been kidnapped. The Big Lebowski enlists the help of The Dude (who in turn enlists the help of Walter and Donnie, his bowling teammates played by John Goodman and Steve Buscemi) to drop off the ransom; the plan goes swimmingly until Walter suggests they keep the money for themselves and give the kidnappers a decoy. What follows is a complex mystery filled with twists, turns, and revelations, all in the name of avenging a rug that really tied the room together.

This movie is a film analyst's dream. Every last detail, from the dialog to the sound effects to the music is handled with the utmost care. Notice how a ringing phone always heralds an important change. Or how the condition of The Dude's apartment and car gradually deteriorate as the film progresses and the situation becomes more convoluted and dire. Or even how the vast majority of the film's iconic conversations at the bowling alley are conveyed via long, uncut takes. The Dude is a simple guy with a simple quest, but this is a film with enough depth to warrant hours upon hours of dissection and discussion. It's a perfect choice to introduce someone to the concept of studying a film's aesthetic; a kind of artistic gateway drug. Once they start to recognize how much of an impact these subtle-yet-intentional touches can make on a film, they'll never look at the medium in quite the same way again.

On paper, it's merely the story of a fella who wants to get his rug back, but in truth, it's about much more. The film is a clear commentary on the societal differences between the upper class and the so-called lower class. As Sam Elliot informs us in the beginning, The Dude is unapologetically lazy; he's not currently employed and spends most of his time smoking weed and going bowling. However, despite his layabout lifestyle, The Dude is very much a positive figure. He's found a way to live his life in which he is both comfortable and in a position to harm no one. His is a mellow existence, going with the flow and bringing little aside from good times and positivity into the lives of his fellow man. On the flip side, we have the other Jeffery Lebowski; fabulously wealthy, but altogether incompetent. He's a self-absorbed stuffed shirt who looks down on people like The Dude, referring to the poor or unemployed as "bums". He's seldom anything but an antagonistic force for the entirety of the movie, hammering in the film's overall theme that it's not what you have that matters, but what you choose to do with what you've got.

Aside from all of that, the film is flat-out hilarious. It manages to be one of my favorite "film" films and one of my favorite comedies all at once. Bridges, Goodman, and Buscemi have amazing chemistry together; it's nigh impossible to picture their dialog as having originated on a script, given how naturally their discourse flows right off the rails. Whenever John Goodman opens his mouth, you know something amazing is going to come out; he's the most quotable character in this supremely quotable movie. As I write this, I'm looking at the "Nobody F*cks with the Jesus!" poster I've got hung above my door. I love every aspect of this movie and I want nothing more than to submerge myself in it, to see it everywhere I go. Every performance is notable, from the main cast, to comparatively smaller roles like Jeffery Lebowski's yes-man, Brandt (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Jesus Quintana (a pederast and bowler played by John Turturro); everyone manages to leave an impression, no matter how big or small their role is. It's a movie with no real lows or weak links, everything's remarkably consistent quality-wise despite how eccentric the plot is.

In all honesty, what else can I possibly say about The Big Lebowski? What possible justice could I do it? It's one of my favorite movies of all time and, in my humble opinion, one of the best movies of all time. Though the story progression may come off as dauntingly absurd to some, there's honestly something for everyone to appreciate. It's a film that can be enjoyed as much as the viewer is willing to explore it, and I find that that's something both rare and special. This is a movie you could easily write an entire academic paper on (I would know, seeing as how I've done just that); at the same time, you could definitely just pop it in after a long day and lose yourself in the iconic bits of roundabout dialog (as I did tonight). It's a tremendously versatile piece of film. If you haven't seen it before, obviously, I recommend it. Give it a watch, and remember to take it easy. The Dude abides.

REVIEW: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles- Out of the Shadows

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows is a film that, against all odds, I was looking forward to. It's no secret that I wasn't a fan of the first entry in this new generation of Turtles films, and I've absolutely no qualms in saying that, while 1990's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is undoubtedly the best film adaptation of the property, the notably sillier Secret of the Ooze will forever be my favorite. Out of the Shadows appeared to be taking a turn for the absurd, which is exactly the direction I wanted to see it go in. The first film was a soulless, unfocused mess; when a film takes itself seriously, it opens itself up to deeper critique. You can't exactly brush away plot holes and lazy writing with "well it's not trying to be serious" when a film is very clearly attempting (and failing) to do just that. TMNT is one of those rare franchises that can flourish both in the realm of serious quality (the original 90's film, the 2003 cartoon series, the original Mirage comics, etc.) and hilarious cheese (the 80's cartoon, Secret of the Ooze, etc.); considering the creative team behind the 2014 film clearly lacked the skill to convincingly pull off the former, it was a smart move to put all their proverbial chips on the latter. As a wise man once said, "if I can't be the best, I sure as hell can be the worst."

After escaping from prison, The Shredder (Brian Tee) means to collect a series of extraterrestrial maguffins that will open a portal to the otherworldly realm of Dimension X, heralding the arrival of the evil alien warlord, Krang (Brad Garrett) and his massive doomsday machine, the Technodrome. Naturally, it's up to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Pete Ploszek, Alan Ritchson, Noel Fisher, and Jeremy Howard) to stop him. The plot is standard fare and should be familiar to anyone with even the slightest prior knowledge of the Turtles' cartoon exploits. Once again, the evil Shredder attacks, these turtle boys cut him no slack, roll credits. There's also a totally unnecessary subplot involving the Turtles debating whether or not to use a canister of purple mutagen ooze to become human. The payoff is exactly what one would expect (spoiler alert, the next film won't be called Teenage Mutant Ninja People) and it's swept under the rug just in time for the bombastic climax to take center stage. It's loud, colorful, and stupid, but then that's not necessarily a bad thing.

At the end of the day, different films must be held to different standards; a movie should be judged on how well it succeeded in accomplishing what it set out to do. It's why I can call a film like Robocop or Krampus a near perfect movie without a hint of irony. The 2014 Turtles movie tried to be an action blockbuster worthy of going toe-to-toe with the MCU; considering it was a lazy, stupid cash-grab, it obviously failed. Out of the Shadows has embraced its place in the cinematic circle of life and sets out to be nothing more than a stupid, cheesy, live-action cartoon and mostly succeeds. It's only when it tries to break free from this cornball mold that its myriad flaws become apparent and irritating (instead of endearing and hilarious). Like Secret of the Ooze, this is pretty objectively a bad movie. But also like Secret of the Ooze, I found myself having a lot of fun with it regardless.

Additions like the long-awaited live-action premier of characters like Krang, Bebop (Gary Anthony Williams), and Rocksteady (Sheamus) lend the movie an air of authenticity compared to the film that preceded it; it actually feels like it was made by people who knew and appreciated what they were working with this time around, and that small bit of effort goes a long way in terms of making an enjoyable piece of entertainment. The Turtles are very much the main characters, Shredder is a simple samurai in body armor, and the Technodrome has a big, robotic eyeball on top of it. Sadly, despite all the fun, there's still a number of Platinum Dunes trappings that occasionally pull you out of the Saturday-morning stupor the film creates; Stephen Amell gives one of the worst performances I've ever seen as Casey Jones (now a beat cop for the NYPD instead of a sporting goods themed vigilante, for whatever reason). It's a real shame, since he seemed genuinely excited to be in the film. Whether his performance is due to poor direction or just a lackluster take on his part, I'm not entirely sure, but his inclusion feels somewhat superfluous considering everything else the film has to offer. In a movie with massive mutants and alien brains and Technodromes, there's really not much for New York hockey man to do.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows is this modern series' timid first steps into the realm of eye-rolling cheese, a place where this franchise has been perfectly comfortable and prosperous in the past. The Turtles themselves are endearing and fun, the action is madcap and inventive, and the villains are big, bumbling, and corny. It's the 80's cartoon brought to life, and once the series decides to drop the half-hearted attempts at legitimate drama (I'm looking at you, pointless mutagen subplot) and embraces its cheeseball roots, I'm sure it'll be a spectacularly fun time rather than a merely-decent diversion. Out of the Shadows almost had it right, but abandoning all dignity is a daunting thing for a big-name action blockbuster to commit to; the dial is left and a modest 7, when it should have been cranked as far past 10 as it would allow. It's that lack of commitment that makes this movie an inoffensive piece of schlock instead of a memorable piece of schlock.

Here Comes a New Layout!

After several rousing hours of digital layout editing, I'm pleased to reveal a brand-new look for this blog! Those of you stayed up to date with my musings knew this blog as Cinemark. As it turns out, "Cinemark" is not only the name of a national theater chain, it's the name of a national theater chain that is in the process of seeking $700,000 in legal reparations from the survivors of the 2012 Aurora shooting (though that's neither here nor there). 

Regardless, I saw fit to do a bit of rebranding, and here we are! I spent a good amount of time mulling through a cornucopia of awful puns in search of a new name, until I settled on Jurassic Mark. What better namesake for my blog about movies than the film which inspired me to take up an interest in film in the first place? Aside from a visual facelift, everything else here is pretty much the same; Reviews will continue to drop weekly, so stay tuned!

REVIEW: The Good, The Bad, The Weird

Every so often, it's fun to throw caution to the wind and just watch something you've got absolutely no prior knowledge of. Sometimes you end up with something mediocre, like Moonwalkers. Sometimes you end up with something mind-numbingly awful, like Killer Mountain. However, every once in a while, you'll find something that's just a load of fun. A film that is not only entertaining, but memorable in a distinct kind of way. Such is the case with director Kim Jee-woon's The Good, The Bad, The Weird.

Set in 1930's Manchuria, the plot begins as so many westerns do; with a train robbery. A hitman by the name of Park Chang-yi (Lee Byung-hun, "The Bad") has been hired to intercept a treasure map from a Japanese banking official. Unbeknownst to him and his gang, a bandit named Yoon Tae-goo (Song Kang-ho, "The Weird") happens to be robbing the train at the same time. Escaping in the fray with a bundle of pilfered riches (including the map), Tae-goo attracts the attention of Park Do-won (Jung Woo-sung, "The Good"), an Eastwood-esque bounty hunter who happened to be tracking down Chang-yi when the whole thing went down. What started as a simple robbery explodes into an all-out race through the Manchurian desert as Tae-goo tries to find his treasure, Chang-yi tries to find Tae-goo, Do-won tries to find Chang-yi, and the Japanese army tries to find the map.

The first thing I have to praise here is the soundtrack. The score (composed by Dalparan and Jang Young-gyu) manages to mix a classic spaghetti western sound, reminiscent of Ennio Morricone, with a distinctly modern spin. The blaring trumpets and catchy, thumping beats punctuate the action in a way that could only be described as sublime. I make no exaggeration when I say that this has become one of my new favorite film scores of all time; aside from the odd title theme here and there, modern action scores are rarely anything special, yet here's a film that ditches the booming orchestral score for something much more eccentric and energetic that makes the film that much stronger as a whole.

Given how strong the score is, it would be a crying shame if the action and cinematography were mediocre by comparison. Thankfully that's not the case here. Despite the film costing a meager $10 million US to make (for comparison, Django Unchained and the upcoming Magnificent Seven remake both boast budgets that are literally ten times that amount), it's packed to the gills with fantastically shot action setpieces and stuntwork. The film is reminiscent of the Indiana Jones series in some respects, seamlessly merging badass, bloody violence with mild comedy, all while incorporating physical sets and thrilling chase scenes. While the gunplay and fisticuffs may prove exhausting to some, I found myself grinning like a madman at each intricate confrontation; this is a film that shows the true worth of action that is well-shot, well-choreographed, and above all, organic.

That said, there are gaps in between the bombastic fight scenes in which the film's pacing can slow to a crawl. While all of our main characters are charismatic and interesting in their own, unique ways, I felt myself growing anxious from time to time, eager to see guns drawn and blood spilled. The story can become a bit muddled and hard to follow at times, though I feel this may simply be the penalty that so many foreign films must face when confronted with a foreign audience. Though the film is very clearly ripe with homage to the spaghetti westerns of the past (Variety's Derek Elley described the film using the delightful phrase, "kimchi western"), it occasionally toes the line of being derivative. The climax, as well as the characterization of our three main characters, are ripped straight from Sergio Leone's Dollars trilogy; the film is definitely engaging on its own, but it's totally transparent to see where the filmmakers' inspiration was lifted from. Then again, A Fistfull of Dollars was clearly inspired by Akira Kurosawa's Yojimbo (to the point that Toho was able to successfully take Leone to court over the matter), so it can easily be said that homage is an often essential part of making great narrative art.

The Good,The Bad, The Weird is just a righteous good time. Although it can drag somewhat at times, the strong action and endearing characters more than make up for any of its faults. Sometimes it's fun to go with a wildcard and watch something completely outside of one's comfort zone. Often there's no better source for such movies than in the realm of foreign cinema. As I've proven with The Good, The Bad, The Weird, there's a good chance you might just stumble upon a hidden gem you wouldn't have found otherwise. Definitely definitely give this one a watch.