Movies, movies, movies

I saw not one, not two, but three films recently. And two could even be considered new releases. Cool. For wankers like me that don't get out much, this is cause for celebration.

The first was Batman Begins. Damn, I really liked this one. The fact that the filmmakers treated the subject matter with respect, as opposed to contempt, made a big difference. Gary Oldman was phenominal as Lt. James Gordon--it's the first time Gordon's been done right in any dramatic incarnation of Batman (although driving the Batmobile was pushing it). I don't much like the Scarecrow in the comics, but he was very cool here. Liam Neeson and Ken Watanabe were both solid as Ra's a Ghul. Michael Caine made a much stronger Alfred than we've seen before. And, of course, I've been a Morgan Freeman fan since his afroed "Easy Reader" days on The Electric Company. The only false note with the actors was Katie "Tom Cruise is sooooo dreamy" Holmes, who was a featherweight in a featherweight role. Note to suits: Batman shouldn't reveal his secret ID to chicks. Reference Frozone if you don't believe me.

Otherwise, I loved the Batfilm a great deal. Easily the best Batman adaptation ever. The only big problem I had was with the microwave cannon Ra's used to blow up all the water mains in Gotham. Which was incredibly stupid. Folks, if you're going to have a microwave emitter powerful enough to vaporize water buried underground in water mains, then you are simultaneously going to people exploding all across town as their blood instantly begins to boil. And not just people, but all the dogs and cats and rats and squirrels and birds and ants and... well, you get the picture. It's the microwave over effect. Pretty well documented, I daresay. But then, if Spider-Man 2 can get away with that nonsensical fusion reactor/burning sphere of magnetic doom built by Doc Oc, I suppose we can forgive Batman one little microwave gaf.

The next film I saw was War of the Worlds. You know, the one with Tom Cruise and Steven Spielberg. Let me tell you, I was underwhelmed. If Spielberg wanted to distance his film from Independence Day by not showing any cool fights, fine. But then why did he design his aliens to look like carbon copies of the already-bland alien baddies from ID4? The first hour was interesting, and I found myself thinking that Spielberg really was going to give us something new and different. But then, I thought the same thing when I saw Minority Report. That should've clued me in. The last half of the move quickly devolved into a series of stock Hollywood cliches, gore for shock sake and artificial peril. That over-long basement sequence with Tim Robbins was painful to watch, and not because it was intense. Over-long and pointless, the absolute worst part came when the electric eye came down to scout out the ruins--lifted directly from the George Pal version, it only served to remind me that I could be home watching that far more entertaining film instead. On reflection, the film actually jumped the shark right before they went into that damn basement--after the Martians (and by golly, they have to be Martians, or it ain't War of the Worlds) blow the crap out of the army. It happens when a half-dozen or so humvees come rolling over the hill in perfect formation, engulfed in flame, crews dead. I swear, you couldn't get a better formation out of the Royal Lipizzaner Stallions. That was such an artificial, choreographed note that it threw me out of the rest of the film. So I suppose it's no wonder that the punk teen who should've died under the Martian death rays turns up safe and sound in Boston, at the family townhouse that is miraculously unscathed despite the fact the rest of the city is smoking ruin. I simply don't trust Spielberg anymore. Period.

The other film I saw, on DVD, was The Dreamers by Bernardo Bertolucci, the director who also did The Last Emperor and Last Tango in Paris. Wow. What a powerful, well-done movie. I can see why it earned an NC-17 rating, but it's an NC-17 in the way that Midnight Cowboy was rated X. It's not porn, it's story. To recap: An American college student and film buff in Paris falls in with a brother and sister who are also obsessed with cinema. More a character study than a plot-driven story, the relationships become intensely sexual against the backdrop of the 1968 Paris riots. The relationships are by turn tender and creepy, with top-notch performances all around. Oh, wow. I just saw on IMDB that Eva Green, who plays Isabelle in The Dreamers very, very well, also played Sybilla in The Kingdom of Heaven, a standout role in a film full of top-notch performances. And she's pretty close to unrecognizeable as the same actress in those different roles. That's impressive.

There's a very European feel to this film, and it reminded me somewhat of the excellent Swimming Pool, although the two are very different movies. It also reminds me a great deal of Summer Lovers, but is much more intense. I really like this one. I might even buy the DVD some day, but then these are the quiet, intense character pieces I seem to gravitate towards that no one else ever sees.

Now Playing: Dolly Parton The Best of Dolly Parton