THE VOW (February 10th)

Here's what's wrong with this movie.  It's based on an interesting and poignant true story, but the details and idiosyncrasies of that story have been trimmed and thrown away like so much toenail, and substituted for familiar characters, corny lines, and the sentimental tone of your run-of-the-mill rom-dram.  In 1993, a married couple was involved in a major car accident.  The husband got out okay, but the wife was thrown into a coma, and when she awoke, she had no memory of her husband, or of her life for the past two years.  The marriage damn near fell apart, but under the advice of a therapist, the couple began their courtship anew, fell in love all over again, and remarried in 1996.  The Vow will bring a tear to some eyes, and touch the hearts of many.  Not mine.  It's enough to know that this happened, and to stay cautious behind the wheel.  I'm not into sitting through a whole film that plays "will they or won't they?" with my patience until it ends exactly how I knew it would.

The Vow is a Valentine's Day release, which is good news for those who love sentimentality!  The forgetful wife (Rachel McAdams) withdraws further from her man (the effervescent Channing Tatum) because she believes she's still engaged to some other asshole ("Quick" Scott Speedman).  Tatum's mission to win back his wife's heart becomes a race against time -- the Speed Man don't have scruples about swooping in to steal a mentally disabled woman!  In fact, everything this guy does makes you hate him and know in your heart that McAdams isn't meant to be with him, which is why grafting his character onto the plot is such a typical and unnecessary move.  His function is to usurp Tatum's place, treat McAdams sweetly, but with an air of dickheadedness, talk smack, get punched, and finally be dumped.  Yay, the big guy won and kept his vow to be with Rachel Mc. forever!  But the true story is all the more diluted, and my disdain grosser.  On the plus side, though, these "Other Guy" subplot scenes make for excellent bathroom breaks, and opportunities to stroll the theater halls, looking at posters.  But make it back for Sam Neill as the father!  He is pure!

Rachel McAdams is very good, and I'm not altogether opposed to Chandler Tatum.  The writing is passable, but not without dumb, and there's nothing especially wrong with a Hollywood movie with a sweet and earnest message about the bonds of love.  But there's nothing very compelling either, and I've had my fill of cinematic strawberry ice cream.  I would have preferred the pop music soundtrack toned down, have the cast uglied up a bit, lost the ex-fiancee red herring, and brought back the weirder details of the story.  (They were really into Jesus!)  But, like the man said, it is what it is, so if you really must, swallow your critical faculties, bring a date, throw in a yawn-squeeze, and enjoy an uncomplicated evening at the movies.  As fluffy romance goes, you could do worse than The Vow.

But if While You Were Sleeping is on TV, stay at home and catch that one!  It's basically the same story!

Dorien Sez: C+
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THE DARK KNIGHT RISES (July 20th)

We already knew it would be a tall order to top The Dark Knight.  That was some kind of movie: a two-and-a-half hour plate of fine grilled chicken, with all of the things that you can fix it with.  It was extremely entertaining, smart, way dark, and its dramatic tension made like the dad from Growing Pains: it was Thicke!  The bar was set high for a sequel.  Then, when we lost Heath, the thought of a sequel seemed like a shithead move.  A) Batman's nemesis is the Joker, plain and simple; B) that performance was riveting, and another actor as another villain would seem a step down; and C) I don't want to see Batman solving puzzles and mirror messages left by some Dickler -- I just wanted more Heath!  Never, I vowed, could Christopher Nolan's third installment possibly match its predecessor.

Well, someone call the waiter over, because I need some shaved parmesan to go with those words!  The Dark Knight Rises is a beast of a film.  It's set eight years after the last movie, and Batman has gone ghost protocol: he took the rap for "killing" Harvey Dent, and now he's public enemy number one.  But while he's off soul searching, or what have you, Gotham is in danger of falling to the hands of the terrorist, Bane.  So, ready or not, B-man must suit back up and face the fire.  He's hounded by the coppers, his head isn't right, and this new foe may just break him for goodsies.  Bane has spent his entire life in prisons.  He's brilliant, strong like a mammoth, and lives on a life support system that looks like a terrifying facejock.  As Bane, Tom Hardy delivers.  He's as imposing as he was in Bronson, less hilarious, plus he's a shade away from pigshit insane.  If the Joker lit the torch for panic-induced anarchy, it has passed to Bane, who intends to destroy Batman and murder Gotham City.  Hardy is great.

Also thrown into the pot is Catwoman, as played by Annie Hathaway.  Here's another nutto with a score to settle.  Like Bruce Wayne, Selena Kyle has status and funds, but by night she lets her id loose, dresses up in an animal costume, and assaults those who stand in her way.  A. Hathaway is a beauty and talented, and when she's in action, leathered up, kicking cops in face, she makes a very good Catwoman.  Other players include Oldman, reliable and dope; Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox, who invents gadgets and makes cheeky comments; tail gunner Michael Caine, whose cockney accent seems to thicken with heightened emotion ("yo' muvah an' yo' favah ahst mey to loo' ahftah you..."); and Nolan's new favorite son, Joseph Gordon-Why-Do-I-Carevitt.

And in uniform for the last time is Christian Bale.  Christ' has proven himself a fine all-around Batman.  Lord knows he put his body in prime physical condition to play the part, and in his journey as Bruce Wayne, from training in the Himalayas, to grabassing with Alfred, to losing both Rachels, Bale's performance has been tough, sympathetic, and honest.  It's when he's actually in costume as Batman that things can go funny, and yes, it's the god damn voice.  Keaton's Batman voice was somewhere between a murmur and a growl, and while it would probably be difficult to hear him out-of-doors, it was awesome, and it worked for the film.  It stands to reason that Bale's psychologically darker, pumped-up, avenger-Batman would have a menacing voice, but fuckles!  Did anyone not squirm a bit during Dark Knight when Batman sounded like Stone Cold Steve Austin talking smack about his coming match?  "YOU KNOW.... TRIPLE H..... THE PEOPLLE......  HUVV GOTHAMMM...... HAVE CHOSUNNN..."  Still, while Bale could have pulled a Halle Berry and dialed the vocal choice way down in the sequel after a poor reception in the original (her Storm went from Egyptian to regular in X2), I respect his choice to keep it husky.  It's Bale's final installment in the first great Batman trilogy, and he's going to go out his own way.  Even if he reminds you of John Cena.

All hats must be off to Christopher Nolan for swooping in, like a gentleman, and reimagining the epic story of the greatest superhero.  Let's hope we have a few good years to digest this trilogy before some jerk decides to relaunch the franchise, poorly.  The Dark Knight Rises is operatic in size, and is more pertinent to our times than one would think.  Hathaway warns Wayne that the ultra-rich will soon have an uprising on their hands, while Bane, a true monster created by the system, becomes the leader of a violent revolution.  Let's hope it doesn't come to all that.  But what is Batman to do, a figure rejected by the society he was trying to protect?  He knows that the system is fixed, and that there could be some benefits to a little purging, but innocent people need help, and that, in the end, is his job.  Batman puts his life on the line to protect strangers, and he don't never give up, even if it kills him.

"It's not who I am inside, but what I do that defines me."  You said it, Batman.  May we all remember your ways and your words.  But let us remember them as spoken by Keaton.

Dorien Sez: A
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THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY (December 2012)

If you're referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved.  All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out of the door...

There's a scene in The Fellowship of the Ring where Gandalf visits Bilbo in Bag End.  Among the what-have-you and oddities gathered on the hobbit's desk is a map of Middle-Earth.  Big G's wise gaze pauses on the Lonely Mountain, next to an illustration of a dragon.  It only lasts a moment, as the scene must go on, and it probably won't do much for those unfamiliar with the Book.  But that's how Peter Jackson & Co. chose make their adaptation: richly detailed, thorough, and if this history or that backstory can't be explained in full, it still gets a nod.  It's a real dorkfest for geek nerdlingers, but more to the point, it's a serious approach to a fantasy story.  Finally, nine years (good omen!) after the first film's release, we'll get to see the story of Bilbo and his journey to the Lonely Mountain... and why he came to be such a bumbling, stuttering little fuck!  God, I love Bilbo!

The Hobbit is the precursor to LOTR, a tale of adventure, danger, and nerdery, and under the tutelage of coach Peter Jackson, it's a seamless addition to the trilogy.  He takes you back to M. Earth like a pilot who travels often to a certain destination, and he does also bring you along with him to that destination with some skill and ease!  The comfort and peace of The Shire make you want to grow a squash and have a smoke; the dank funk of Mirkwood will really put the ants in your pants; and in Rivendell, you can breathe easy for a minute and take in the scenery, safe in the clammy hands of Old Man Elrond.  There may be a few moments when your mind and face hammer-twitch with confusion as you see old friends doing and saying new, strange things.  "This feels odd," you might shout or whisper, "Elijah Wood's pulling an F. Savage, popping in just to have a story told to him and say things like, 'But Bilbo, what happened next?  Did the trolls get you?'  It feels weird!"  But don't fret much.  The feeling doesn't last long, and the power of the storytelling, plus the sheer joy of being dipped back into the Tolkien pool, will put a lembas-eating grin on your gimpdexter face!

The Hobbit is a clearer linear story to develop into a film than Lord of TR, though the stakes are arguably quite much lower.  A posse of disgruntled dwarves come bashing at Bilbo Baggins's round door, demanding the hobbit join them on their quest and break their unlucky number.  (I know what you're thinking: "That sounds an awfully lot like Banderas in The 13th Warrior!"  You're not wrong.  They're both great.)  The leader of the dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield, is a king in exile, driven from his home and treasure by a dragon s.o.b.  Under the advice of the wizard Gandalf, Thorin's pulling an O.J.: he's going back to his mountain home to steal what's his.  Bilbo wants no part of it, as he's but a hobbit: he's rather kick his giant feet up and enjoy a mug of ale than go clambering up mountains like some kind of goat.  But Gandie told the dwarves that Bilbo's a master thief, and lole and behold: he's whisked off on a big adventure!

One thing about The Lord of the Rings movies: you wanted more Bilbo.  The Hobbit is an all-you-can-Bilbo buffet, with Ian Holm once again delivering a masterful supporting performance as the slap-happy halfling!  But for the vast majority of the film, Martin Freeman is our Bilbo, and he's perfec.  Like De Niro stepping in to play a younger version of an already iconic Vito Corleone, M. Freeman's performance walks the line of preserving the work of his predecessor, while marking it with his own particular musk.  Bilbo's journey is not as hard or terrifying as Frodo's will be, but the little man goes through some trials, finding courage he didn't know he had and, of course, playing a vital role in the coming War of the Ring.  Gandalf and the other wise folk can't see all the angles, but they know which way the wind blows, and what with the Necromancer amassing forces in the east, and the heir to the throne of Gondor wandering about the wilds like a slob, little Bilbo has a lot riding on his shoulders, unbeknownst-to-him-style!

Another reason to smile: Howard Shore is back as composer and conductor.  The music of Middle-Earth plays a major role in J.R.R. T.'s books, and when adapted by a brilliant film composer, the result is a Shore-gasm for the ears and heart!  Likewise, the return of Weta Digital and the entire costume, art, and weapons departments are like an old set of comfy jammies: they feels great, and you wonder where they've been these past few winters.  The return of I. McKellan is particularly sweet, back in grey robes, as was always my favorite getup.  He's a smoky, stinky, old-man Gandalf, and it's still impressive to see how compelling a thoughtful stare can be in the face-hands of Sir Ian.  Many returning elements from the first films will make fans want to cheer with joy.  Please, don't.  I don't want to see texting going on in my peripheral, and I don't care that you remember Gollum and love doing his crazy voice and are happy to see him again.  Be quiet and let the film do its work, and Serkis's performance will be all the more dominant.  Save the outbursts for when you just can't help yourself, my silly dorks!

The creative team of Peter J., Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh once again destroys -- in a good way -- the art of epic storytelling with a personal core.  When Guillermo del Toro was attached to direct, I thought it was great.  He knows how to tell a serious fantasy tale, plus maybe some orcs would have eyes on their hands or something.  But things are as they should be with PJ as director, and del Toro remaining as a co-writer.  Though after hearing some of his interviews, I'd have to imagine some credit is due to Ms. Boyens for translating Sr. del Toro's ideas:  "Den he go like, 'AH!' and he finding de ring on de dirt in de ground. And he say, "What is dat...?"  I could be wrong.  Irregardless, The Hobbit is a special experience in the cinema, escapism at its finest, but driven by a principle we can all mount up on: don't let the dragons horde what by rights belongs to our people.

Plus there are dwarves.  Lots of them.  I can't wait for the Extended Edition.

Dorien Sez: A+
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BATTLESHIP (May 18th)

What really gets my goat and fucks it is that someone got paid a lot of money for this idea: Independence Day meets The Abyss, meets Transformers, meets Battlefield Earth.  They're all drunk, and they produce a grotesque and lurching offspring so putrid and reeking of inbreeding that the only way to market it is by pretending it's inspired by, or has anything to do with, the classic board game Battleship.  It doesn't.  Not until the final battle sequence are we subjected to the obligatory homage of calling out firing coordinates and the useless, out-of-place catchphrase, "You sank my battleship."  Clowns and assholes will flock to this nonsense, maybe simply because they feel they're supposed to, but those of you interested in preserving your self respect should steer starboard.  Battleship is a $200 million production built on a dollar-ninety-nine script, buckling under the mass of its own action-packed lard; a failure, an embarrassment, and a terribly loud waste of energy.  It's a piece of Battleshit suited only to a good, hard flushing.

The plot: alien spacecraft spring out of our oceans and start shooting at us.  We fight back.  It looks like we won't win, but we do win.  Along the way, explosions happen, people die by the thousands, and sparks fly between the two young so-and-soes.  We don't care, and it can all go to hell.  Your three hours would be better spent sleeping, reading, or just playing basketball with your friends!

Most board games would make poor movies, with one or two exceptions.  Clue is obviously a classic, though a sorry remake is surely on its way; Scrabble got its due during that spelling-bee craze a few years back; and I think There Will Be Blood was based on Monopoly.  But Battleship is one of the dullest, least imaginative board games a fool could choose to turn into a screenplay.  The game puts you in the captain's chair of a naval fleet as you blindly fire warheads into the ocean, hoping to hit your enemy!  The best part of the game was the board, with its blue plastic ocean and little toy ships.  The game play was more of a chore: gimp-slow, and pointless.  In that, at least, the film remains faithful.

Peter Berg has given us some real dogs in his day, like The Rundown, The Kingdom, and Hancock, but he's outdone himself this time.  Battleship is not original, interesting, or particularly entertaining; it contains no joy, and its sense of action-movie "humor" is something I hate very much.  (The spaceship opens... "That's not good," quips the moron.)  This dog should be taken out back, beaten til it's miserable, then put out of its misery.

Battleship is definitely a product of its time.  It is bloated, excessive, and shallow.  It'll take your money and offer a sideshow in return.  The amount of resources required to make this film must have been staggering, and its carbon footprint sizable.  What's more, it seems to have a fixation bordering on lust for guns, fire, destruction, and the long schlong of the American military.  In spirit and execution, waste is the word that comes to mind.  It was a different world sixteen years ago, when a gentleman made a good action movie on the water for $172 million and was deemed an irresponsible failure.  Nowadays, Berg can drop two-hondo mil on a paint-by-numbers alien invasion movie with a shameless promotional tie-in, and if it makes a buck, he's got a VMA movie award coming his way.  I know we're in the age of excess, but god almighty.  Take it down a notch, Berg.

Costner, meanwhile?  He's cleaning up the Gulf.

Who's the asshole now, world?

Dorien Sez: F
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THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (December 21st)

If David Fincher's movies were children up for adoption, I'd be hard pressed to decide which one to get!  They're all so unique, interesting, and none very shabby in the looks department.  Even the oddball has a certain something you can learn to love.  (Sigourney Weaver was bald!)  But in the end, I'd probably have to bring home the twins: his murder mysteries, Se7en and Zodiac.  They are both dark, brilliant, finely crafted little fellows, and I'm proud to show them to my friends.  And now as a holiday blessing, they've got a little sister on the way in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, another story about finding a killer and solving a horrible crime.  It's a film as only the Finch can deliver, richly layered, atmospheric, and mesmerizing, and it's safe to say there's a little more household competition for my respect and attention!

Rooney Mara plays Lisbeth, a brilliant hacker and investigator, and a Swedish one.  She tends to work solo, as her blunt manner, unorthodox style, and Wes Studi mohawk seldom rub people the right way.  But when "Damaging" Daniel Craig comes knocking, seeking her help to solve a 40-year-old murder case, Lisbeth gets on board, and the two embark on a harrowing journey of discovery.  What starts as an investigation becomes a personal quest for them both, and as they get nearer the truth, they are plunged into ever greater danger.  Mr. Fincher takes time to tell this story, and his slow-but-sure style of mounting tension will leave your palms sweating, your eyes unblinking, and your heart contorted into a twisted grin -- in a good way!

I missed the bus on the Stieg Larsson novel trilogy, nor did I catch the original Swedish film adaptation.  But as per usual, I revel in my ignorance, because it puts me squarely and neutrally in the capable hands of Finch.  After sulking through fifteen minutes of commercials and audibly reacting to half a dozen trailers, I am plunged into Dragon Tattoo's mesmerising first scene, and as I breath deep and double-down on my Twizzlers, I know that this story has never been told better.  The outstanding leads are joined by an excellent supporting gang, including Robin Wright, Stellan Skarsgard, and Christopher Plummer, who has never been better.  The cast also features an impressive array of Swedes, with the likes of Ulf Friberg and Yorick van Wageningen delivering the goods!  Even so, I could have used Peter Stormare.

Like Se7en and Zodiac, Girl with Dragon is a perfect specimen of the crime thriller.  It is scary, moving, intelligent, and alluring as all hell.  As the protagonists' investigation becomes their personal obsession, you'll be right in the same boat: hungry for the truth, thirsty for justice, and generally peckish after a 158 minute film.  We've got some freshly hatched dragos coming to HBO in April, and we should at least get a peek at Smaug in next December's The Hobbit --but for now, why not usher in the Year of the Dragon with Mr. Fincher's bleak and frightening movie?

Now that's a mystery I can't solve!

Dorien Sez: A
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