REVIEW: Dragonball Evolution

There are some films that come along once in a lifetime. Films that make you ask, with 100% seriousness, "what the hell were they thinking?" You may be surprised to know that this question does have an answer of sorts. As Garson Kanin once said, "The problem with film as an art, is that it’s a business." 20th Century Fox had the live-action rights to the Dragon Ball franchise and there was money to be made. Several drafts and $30 million dollars later, Dragonball Evolution was unleashed on defenseless cinemas worldwide, just barely making its money back. As Garson Kanin also said, "the problem with film as a business is that it’s an art." Dragonball Evolution is a lot of things (bland, cheap, uninspired, lazy, insulting, boring, and terrible are words which come to mind), but "art" is not one of them.

The plot is a veritable smörgåsbord of the most cost-effective plot points and details from the classic Dragon Ball manga thrown together with the most derivative teen movie clichés imaginable. Goku (Justin Chatwin) is a teenage loser with an Edward Cullen hairdo and one doozy of a forehead vein. He lives with his grandpa Gohan (Randall Duk Kim) in Japan/China/Mexico/California and has to deal with your average high school problems; bullies, girls, and defending ancient artifacts from alien demons who were sealed away in the center of the Earth by Ernie Hudson 2,000 years ago. Somehow, the evil Lord Piccolo (James Marsters) escapes his Mafuba prison and sets out to gather the seven Dragon Balls; when assembled, they summon an ancient dragon who will grant the user one perfect wish. The task falls to Goku to find the Dragon Balls, stop Piccolo, and most importantly, get the girl. I really can't understand why anyone would try to take "Journey to the West but with dinosaurs and punching" and turn it into a teenage rom-com, but I suppose there was money to be made. So who even cares what it's about, right?

I seriously can't overstate how stupid everything in this movie looks, sounds, and acts. Casting scrawny little Justin Chatwin as a character who once trained comfortably under 100 times Earth's gravity is just an all-around bad idea. Why not get an actual martial artist? Someone who actually LOOKS the part of the strongest fighter on the planet? But then I suppose that wouldn't work in a high school setting, which is really the core problem with this movie. Contrary to popular belief, you COULD do a Dragon Ball movie well if you wanted to. The only requirements are a reverence for the source material and a massive budget. This film had neither.

Characters like Pilaf, Oolong, Turtle, and Puar are completely absent; the closest things we get to any kind of creature effects are Marsters as Piccolo, a split second of the mystical dragon, and a brief but laughable appearance from Ōzaru, the great ape (and some  nameless disposable Power Rangers henchmen who I literally only just remembered were in the movie). Why were the bombastic ki attacks reduced to nothing more than gentle farts of wind and light? Why were iconic characters like Krillin and Kami dropped in favor of Carey Fuller and Hildenbrand, the generic high school bullies? Probably the same reason why a large amount of this film was shot in an abandoned Mexican jeans factory; the budget just wasn't there. When it comes to Hollywood adaptations, the "do it right or don't do it at all" philosophy generally doesn't apply. This was the same era that gave us Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li and X-Men Origins: Wolverine (two films which were, coincidentally, also distributed by 20th Century Fox). If there's a popular franchise prime for milking, you can bet a studio will try to collect. 

I really tried to find something positive here, even ironically so. It's harder than even I expected, and I love trash like this. Justin Chatwin gives one of the worst performances I've ever seen; I mean he's bad in this. This is the film that basically killed his career, and while there's a chance it was just incompetent direction paired with a godawful script, I'm still not sure anything of value was lost. Emmy Rossum tries very hard to be a confident femme fatale, despite looking like a cyberpunk Topanga Lawrence. Jaimie Chung may as well have not been in the film for all the impression she left and Chow Yun Fat just makes me sad. He plays the part of Master Roshi, and while I appreciate that they retained his character's fondness for swimsuit magazines, he still gives an awkward, half-baked performance, mumbling out vaguely Eastern platitudes about ki and balance and energy. 

Joon Park shows up as Yamcha and is so terrible he might just be amazing. His bad is transcendental, which is actually a pretty apt description of Yamcha himself. James Marsters was also a passible enough Piccolo, I suppose. He doesn't really have much to do, but I get the impression that Marsters was fully aware of how silly he looked in his green make-up and plastic muscle chest. It feels like he's just having fun playing Darth Badguy, so that makes his scenes somewhat more bearable than everything else. He also sounds close enough to Chris Sabat while yelling, so that's something. 

I feel like complaining about this movie for being an American remake of a Japanese property is the low-hanging fruit of criticism; there's so much actual, authentic bad here that can be picked apart and scrutinized. The performances, the sets, the special effects, the dialog, the way the actors say the dialog, the long, awkward pauses taken in between each line of dialog; this entire movie feels like a bonafide hatchet job. Like it was a Producers-esque scheme to make a quick buck, quality be damned. When we look at movies like Fant4stic, it's clear that studios (especially 20th Century Fox) aren't above such practices, so the real question becomes less "why would they make this" and more "why would anyone agree to be in this insurance scam of a movie"? It's like buying real-estate in the arson district, it just doesn't make sense unless someone is feeling especially desperate. Having finally sat through Dragonball Evolution, I can say that, objectively, no one should ever feel this desperate.

REVIEW: Fargo

I like to call myself a fan of the Coen Brothers; in reality, I'm a bit of a poser, considering that, up until now, the only one of their films I'd seen was The Big Lebowski. A little shallow to declare myself a "fan" after watching just one film, perhaps, but then I really did just like it that much. Of course I knew I had to explore their other works, and what better place to continue my journey than with the film that really put Ethan and Joel Coen on the map. I am of course referring to their 1994 film, Fargo.

After getting himself in deep through embezzlement, car dealer Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) concocts a scheme to stage a kidnapping. He hires two thugs by the name of Gaear and Carl (Peter Stormare and Steve Buscemi) to abduct his wife, Jean (Kristin Rudrüd), and contact him demanding ransom. Jerry will then extort the ransom money from his father-in-law, pocket half of it, and use the rest to pay off the kidnappers for their services. The plan goes sour, however, and several people are killed. As Jerry's scam spirals out of control, it is up to Police Chief Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) to get to the bottom of things and see those responsible put behind bars.

First and foremost, the film is gorgeously shot. Taking place in the American Midwest during the wintertime, snow is naturally everywhere. It's a very white film, literally; in any exterior scene, snow simply dominates the landscape. This leads to a gorgeous bit of visual contrast whenever a death occurs outside, the red blood clashing against the cold, clean white. It makes for a strong visual metaphor, of how something horrid and sinister can invade a landscape so pure and untouched. Really, that's what the entire film is about; perceptions contrasted against what lies within.

Anyone who's seen this movie knows about the accent; with the exception of Buscemi and Stormare, every cast member speaks in a thick Minnesotan tongue, tossing out "you betcha"s and "oh gosh"s with expert skill. It gives everything about the environment of the film a folksy, naive sort of tone; a perception that is shattered when we are shown who these characters truly are, deep inside. For example, take Macy's Jerry; he's a meek family man who is constantly emasculated by both his work and his father-in-law. He hardly swears and wants to cover up his wrongdoing seemingly for his family's sake. That said, he hopes to accomplish this by arranging his own wife to be kidnapped. He keeps all of that impotent rage bottled up inside him, and on the few occasions it escapes, this meager car salesmen turns into an enraged child, throwing brief-but-violent temper tantrums. He strikes you at first as too much of a wimp to hurt anyone, but it's only as the movie goes on that you really start to understand just how despicable and ruthless he is. He's an expert in denial, convinced he's doing what he's doing for the right reasons, even after things have clearly gone too far.

On the flip-side, we have Margie. Quiet, friendly, and seven months pregnant, you wouldn't immediately peg her as a "hero" in the usual sense. Everything about her seems so quaint, yet she's by far the strongest force for good in the entire film. She's no loose-cannon cop on the edge, just a small-town Police Chief trying to do her duty. You really get to know her as a person; in the same way that this humanization makes Jerry all the more deplorable, it makes Marge that much easier to root for. You get a sense of who these characters are as people, rather than as protagonists and antagonists, and that adds a tremendous amount to the weight of the plot. The film has a relatively relaxed pace, but the brief, surprising moments where the tension is ratcheted up become that much more effective thanks to this sense of contrast. If there's one thing this film truly understands, it is contrast, in every sense of the word.

As one would expect from such a cast, the performances here are all spectacular. Steve Buscemi is doing his usual skeezeball routine and it works as well as it always does. I love watching him fly into a rage; something about it is so genuine and real, which makes it that much more entertaining. Peter Stormare says very little but leaves a big impression, managing to convey a very threatening demeanor with little dialog and a lot of murder. Frances McDormand is a delight, coming off as one of my new favorite protagonists of all time. Margie is just so darn likable and easy to pull for, and this is entirely thanks to McDormand's performance. There's no weak link here, but for me the highlight of the cast was definitely William H. Macy. There's so much subtlety and nuance to the character of Jerry, from the way he talks, to the way he moves, to the way he has his brief, impotent fits of rage. His character simply wouldn't have worked, had Macy not understood everything that makes him tick. It's a wonderful thing, watching his scheme slowly deteriorate from just another day at the office to a total debacle that blows up in his face. Come for William H. Macy, but stay for Frances McDormand, that's my advice.

Fargo is, as is to be expected, a wonderful film. Brilliantly shot and wonderfully nuanced, it's just one of those movies that feels good to take in. It does a dozen things at once and succeeds at all of them, never once feeling trite or boring (despite the easygoing pace). The cast is excellent, the cinematography is gorgeous, and the general environment and atmosphere is very unique, especially given the type of movie this is. It's a plot that very easily could have been conveyed as an action-thriller, with pulsing bass and gravely-voiced antiheroes. Instead, the film goes for something a little more subtle and out-there than your usual murder plot fare. If you're looking for a true blue classic, look no further than Fargo. It doesn't disappoint.

REVIEW: The LEGO Batman Movie

After seeing The LEGO Movie roughly four times in the theater back in 2014, you could say I was basically on-board for whatever LEGO-related project Warner Animation Group wanted to throw my way. When it was announced that Will Arnett's Batman would be getting his own spin-off film, I was sold immediately. Batman as a character has been around for 78 years; of course there's plenty there to be colorfully and hilariously deconstructed (no pun intended). I expected it to be a fun time with some fantastically imaginative animation, but what I didn't expect was for this to be the best Batman film since The Dark Knight (and if we're talking purely on how well it understands the character, then it's in the running for the best film depiction ever).

Taking place three years after the events of The LEGO Movie, Batman (Will Arnett) is back in Gotham City doing what he does best, fighting crime and foiling evil. After his plan to detonate an overly-complicated bomb under the city goes up in smoke, a jilted Joker (Zach Galifianakis) plots his ultimate revenge in an attempt to prove that he is Batman's greatest nemesis. Meanwhile, new police commissioner Barbara Gordon (Rosario Dawson) attempts to revamp Gotham into a place that no longer needs a Batman, hoping to work side-by-side with the vigilante. This naturally doesn't jive with Batman's usual lone-wolf crime fighting style, nor does the addition of his newly adopted son, Dick Grayson (AKA Robin, voiced by Michael Cera). On top of all of this, Batman is forced to face his greatest fear; being part of a family once again.

Leave it to a movie populated entirely with plastic bricks to offer the most human portrayal of the Dark Knight in years. Despite how over-the-top the humor and heroics are in this film, there's a deceptive amount of heart present underneath it all. As absurd and blatantly comedic as Arnett's take on the character of Batman is, his faults are all very much accurate to the core of the character. He's shown to be a self-absorbed loner, one whose weakness stems from a deep-rooted fear of losing those close to him. What at first glace appears to be nothing more than a 104 minute commercial for LEGO products is really a character study of one of the most iconic superheroes of all time. That may sound a bit overly-serious, given the movie I'm talking about here, but the dramatic elements of this film really do work; this is a film that gets Batman.

As one would expect, this movie is an unapologetic love letter to all things Batman. There's nods to everything from the Tim Burton films, to the Adam West series, to the black and white serials of the 1940's. There's jokes involving everything from shark repellent to bat-nipples. We get special appearances from Batman characters such as King Tut, the Mutant Leader, and Two-Face as portrayed by LEGO Billy Dee Williams. There's plenty of surface-level jokes that anyone can enjoy, but it's clear that this is a film made by and for Batman fans, first and foremost. And that's to say nothing of the copious winks and nods made at the expense of Warner Bros less-stellar live-action efforts ("What am I going to do, get a bunch of criminals to fight criminals? That’s a stupid idea!").

For as much praise as I intend to lavish on this movie (trust me, I'm not finished), it's not without its faults. Maybe it's just the comic geek in me talking, but I found the first half (when the film is far more "Batman" than it is "LEGO") to be by-far superior to the second half. The jokes hit harder and more frequently and the film didn't slow down long enough for me to stop smiling. Once the Joker actually puts his master plan in motion and the third act begins, the pace becomes less manic and the film seems to lose a bit of its own identity. I don't want to give anything away, so I'll say this; what happens is both very fun and very imaginative, but I honestly would have had no problem whatsoever with this film just being a DC affair.

As one would expect, the voice cast here is stellar. Will Arnett's Batman carries the film, coming off as an untouchable badass while also appearing supremely vulnerable. His chemistry with Cera's Robin will be no surprise to anyone familiar with Arrested Development, but it's still worth noting how frequently hilarious/often heartwarming their superhero/sidekick relationship is. Ralph Fiennes lends his voice to Alfred Pennyworth (yet, surprisingly enough, not to ANOTHER character who appears later in the film), imbuing the Wayne family butler with the perfect amount of dry British wit. He, along with Rosario Dawson, act as excellent straight-men foils to the markedly more madcap Batman and Robin; our quartet of heroes is nothing if not well-rounded and balanced. Meanwhile, Zach Galifianakis's Joker is surprisingly compelling; he was honestly the only member of the cast I wasn't sold on from the get-go, so it's good to see that he really pulled it off (far better than Jared Leto did, that's for sure). 

The relationship between Batman and the Joker is one of my favorite aspects of the entire film; not only does it toe the line on being hilariously homoerotic, but it's also dead-on accurate to their dynamic in the source material. The Joker's entire motivation boils down to getting Batman to admit that he's a greater adversary than Bane or Superman; that he's the perfect match for Gotham's caped crusader. Everything he does, every evil scheme, is explicitly for Batman's sake. He's an attention-seeker on a quest for validation from his arch-nemesis, an utterly perfect representation of who the Joker really is. He insists that their adversarial relationship is really something special, but Batman frequently denies him the closure he so desires; it's literally the same dynamic between Christian Bale and Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight, just framed through the lens of a cheesy rom-com. It's such a perfect joke, mainly because it's so painfully, bitingly accurate.

What else can I say? The LEGO Batman Movie is a hilariously written, outrageously acted, gorgeously animated piece of work. It's a rare thing to see satire that so totally understands the thing that it's lampooning as well as this film does. It takes some liberties, sure (Dick Grayson hasn't been nearly this gawky since the days of Burt Ward), but you'd be hard pressed to find an adaptation that understands the spirit of its source material as well as The LEGO Batman Movie. It's a film which runs on hyperbole; everything is exaggerated, but it's also dead-on when you get right down to it. Behind all the flashy colors and beatboxing is a film that is much smarter than it appears to let on. If you're a Batman fan, this is mandatory viewing, one of the best bat-films ever made (and honestly neck-in-neck with Mask of the Phantasm for my personal favorite). Even if you couldn't care less that Batman asks his rogue's gallery if they "wanna get nuts", this is still a load of surprisingly heartwarming fun, not to be missed.

REVIEW: Big Man Japan

After watching Shin Godzilla last week, I'm still on something of a kaiju kick. I recall once hearing of Big Man Japan on an episode of the Laser Time Podcast; described as a hilarious genre parody, I knew this was a film I would have to see. Naturally, I tracked it down and gave it a look, only to discover something that was not quite entirely what I was expecting.

The film is shot in the style of a mocumentary, following the titular hero, Big Man Japan (otherwise known by his civilian name, Masaru Daisato, played by Hitoshi Matsumoto). Possessing the uncanny ability to greatly increase his size and strength whenever he comes in contact with electricity, Daisato finds himself employed by the Japanese defense ministry. Like his father and grandfather before him, it is his duty to power-up and defend Japan from all manner of bizarre monsters. Unlike his predecessors, however, Daisato finds himself much less appreciated by both his employers and the general public; the collateral damage caused by his work tends to upset people, and the gig doesn't exactly pay well. The film explores his meager, lonely existence with almost sadistic glee, striking a tone that dips into the surprisingly unfortunate more than once.

It's a fantastic concept, to dissect the life of a super-sentai monster fighter as though they were an underappreciated civil servant. There's many different directions this story could go, but the film doesn't seem entirely willing to commit to one solid idea. This gives things a bit of an uneven tone; we get some genuine drama as we learn about Daisato's abusive father, but then we get to see him awkwardly try to keep two monsters from mating in the middle of a traffic jam. It generally succeeds at whatever it tries to do, but I can't help but get a sense of unevenness from the whole thing. Frankly, I would have liked to have seen the story unfold in either one direction or the other. Either play everything straight and have the humor result from the subtle contrast of a genuinely tragic story set against such an absurd backdrop, or go full-tilt with the silliness and make it a straight-up comedy. A stronger sense of tonal commitment definitely would have helped the pace, which I think can reasonably be described as "glacial".

The humor throughout the entirety of the first act is supremely dry and the plot doesn't really get going until a half hour in. There's some really clever ideas (such as how Daisato's agent sells ad space on his body whenever he has to go fight a monster), but it feels like the filmmakers didn't really do everything they could with this premise. To be fair, that could be a budgetary issue; for a Japanese indie film made a decade ago, the CGI and special effects all look surprisingly solid. The monster designs and concepts are all quite excellent as well; there's a really strong heart of absurdist humor at the center of this film. When it's allowed to shine, it's a veritable laugh-riot, so it's a shame that the rest of it feels so aimless and meandering.

That said, the pacing and general mood of the film does help to establish an atmosphere that really helps the viewer get into Daisato's headspace. He's laid-back and complacent almost to the point of being totally boring, but we still sympathize with his burden. His is a job that, frankly, no one should want; he can't travel, earns peanuts, and barely sees his estranged daughter. It's not exactly a pleasant mood for the movie to take, but it's certainly an effective one. I would have just liked to see more regarding Daisato's relationships with those around him. We get glimpses of his family life, but there's hardly any payoff. The drama is compelling but under-delivered and the comedy is an absurd delight when it's actually present. It's a film that seems it get in its own way frequently. With that said, the ending is one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

Big Man Japan is a film with a lot to think about. I can say objectively that it is well-made. It's an inventive idea with a lot going on beneath the surface. This isn't simply a movie about a superhero who kinda sucks at his job; there's plenty of subtext to explore in regards to the story and protagonist (and especially the ending). On paper, it is a good movie. The question, though, is would I recommend it. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps this is the sort of thing that improves upon sequential viewings, but I can't help but feel as though this missed the mark for me. It's definitely a niche sort of film; there's some bits of undeniable brilliance here, so if this seems like your sort of thing, then I say definitely go check it out. However, if you're not particularly big on Japanese monster movies or subversive dramedy, maybe give this one a pass.

REVIEW: Shin Godzilla

The Godzilla franchise, I feel, is one that doesn't get nearly the respect it deserves. Yes, we're all too familiar with the hilariously bad dubbing jobs and overwhelming silliness of the 60's and 70's, but Godzilla represents a very culturally significant moment in the history of Japan. The first film was released in 1954, not even a decade after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The first film, while somewhat quaint in terms of its special effects budget, represents a national catharsis. Godzilla was created as a symbol of nuclear destruction, bathing the landscape in a hellstorm of atomic fire. Despite the sometimes corny special effects, the original film is played entirely straight. There's very little levity and it all comes off more like a natural disaster than a goofy sci-fi monster flick. It wasn't until later that the franchise took a cue from Gamera and recast the Big G as a friend to children and champion of the Earth. After countless sequels, reboots, and re-imaginings, we finally have a new Godzilla film from Toho, the studio that started it all. With Legendary Pictures' Monsterverse seeking to establish its own, Westernized brand of Godzilla movies in the coming years, is there still a place for homegrown kaiju action? At the end of the day, does Shin Godzilla deserve a place at the table?

Like many Godzilla films before it, Shin Godzilla is a complete and total reboot. The events of all prior films are ignored, even those of the 1954 original. Unlike many of the later Godzilla films, however, the plot is as straightforward as they come; after a massive aquatic creature makes landfall near Tokyo Bay, the Japanese government amasses every expert available to assess the situation. By the time a response is readied, the creature has seemingly evolved into a larger form before returning to the sea. Research indicates that the creature is the result of genetic mutation, dubbed "Godzilla" by the United States. By the time Godzilla reappears, he is twice his original size and still showing signs of evolution; the world flies into a panic and the UN proposes using nuclear weapons to stop the impending threat. It's up to a small team of Japanese researchers to develop a means of stopping Godzilla before the rest of the world drops the bomb, sacrificing all of Tokyo in the process.

It's amusing to compare this to 2014's Godzilla, as it suffers from many of the same problems. Mainly, a lack of interesting characters. We're introduced to a great many scientists, government employees, and military personnel over the course of the film, but very few are all that memorable. No one truly gets a chance to develop, since the threat of a giant monster and nuclear annihilation takes precedent in the plot. There isn't really anyone for the audience to latch onto and connect with, though I also feel that the movie isn't exactly going for anything particularly intimate. It sacrifices in-depth character development for a massive scale and scope, and in those aspects it definitely succeeds.

Godzilla, in this film, is treated like a pure force of nature (even moreso than Legendary's take on the character). This Godzilla is an inexpressive, deep-sea abomination, bane of all mankind. A monster in every sense of the word. This is a movie that definitely gets what makes Godzilla scary and understands how to convey him as a legitimate threat (even his doofy, huggable early forms). There's a specific moment in which we first see his iconic atomic breath put to work; where Legendary's take on this classic ability was unquestionably awesome, Shin Godzilla manages to turn something as absurd as a giant dinosaur firing laser beams from his mouth into a legitimately shocking, horrifying moment. The destruction on display here never feels cheap or over-indulgent. If there's one thing this movie gets right, it's the tone.

Just as the original Gojira was inspired by a nuclear tragedy, so was Shin Godzilla. Despite being released in 2016, it's clear that it took some direct inspiration from the infamous Fukushima disaster of 2011. The sense of destruction, the displaced civilians, the trail of nuclear fallout; it's all clearly meant to put the viewer in a specific kind of headspace. Even moreso when one considers the snide social commentary at play here, taking digs at the way the Japanese government responded to the disaster. When Godzilla first makes landfall, precious time is wasted in the name of decorum. The PM takes his sweet time to convene with his advisers, attend various conferences, and essentially do everything in his power to delay making a difficult decision. When the time finally arrives, it's far too late, and Godzilla is nigh-invincible. 

While there isn't much going on with the characters, the story has more layers of meaning than one would expect from a giant monster movie. It was directed by Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi (known mainly for their work on Neon Genesis Evangelion), and their influence is definitely felt here. The film espouses the virtues of teamwork in the face of crisis; the group of researchers assembled to stop Godzilla are told outright from the beginning that titles and decorum no longer matter. Those who remain hung up on protocol and procedure when the situation has clearly escalated beyond such trivial matters are resigned to failure. Meanwhile, it is those who are able to sort their priorities and think outside of the box who eventually save the day.

Shin Godzilla is notable for receiving overwhelming praise within its native Japan and a more lukewarm reception everywhere else. Having given it some thought, I have to side with the Japanese on this one; Shin Godzilla is an excellent movie. It's by no means perfect (the characters are for the most part bland and some of the dialog scenes can drag here and there), but it represents a true return to form for the King of the Monsters. Boasting surprisingly excellent special effects (considering it was made on roughly a tenth of the budget of Legendary's Godzilla) and an engaging plot, Shin Godzilla is a true treat for any kaiju nut. Whether you're new to the franchise or a long-time fan, this is an exemplary monster flick, not to be missed.