"The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies" Review

The "Hobbit" movies has gotten flak for being "Lord of the Rings" lite, and to an extent, I understand, but I don't find that analysis completely fair. While it's true that this series is padded with material not found in the book, and at times, adopts the tone of the original trilogy, the "Hobbit" series excels when the atmosphere of Middle Earth takes over. "The Hobbit" movies are strongest when removed farthest from "Lord of the Rings."

The first two installments, "An Unexpected Journey" and "The Desolation of Smaug" make the balance of action and atmosphere work, pushing the story along while giving time to explore the world (wandering through the dark forest, climbing the Stone Giants). However, with the conclusion, "Battle of the Five Armies", the problems come to the forefront, and in a movie that attempts to replicate "Return of the King," director Peter Jackson misses the mark, with a less impactful spectacle trying to masquerade a bloated, confusing plot.

Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and his company of dwarves must defend the human stronghold of Laketown from Smaug's fury after they exile the dragon from Erebor, the dwarves' mountain homeland. Unbeknownst to them, their campaign has attracted the attention of all the major powers of Middle Earth, ready to culminate into a final confrontation that will determine everyone's fate.

These characters are still lovable and dynamic; Freeman's Bilbo is reserved, but skillfully and subtly articulates the status of his thoughts, whether they be in doubt, disappointment, or gratitude. Ian McKellen combines gravitas and a kind heart as Gandalf: spectacular as always. (I'm sad to see him go.) Bard (Luke Evans) balances his roles of warrior and leader, (better so than Viggo Mortensen's Aragorn); he delivers what will likely be an underrated performance.

"Battle of the Five Armies" balances out its hits with misses: for every time Christopher Lee kicks ass in the name of wizardry, the Legolas-Tauriel-Kili love triangle rears its studio-mandated head. The action, while presented beautifully in the movie's sets, is shot tight to the point of claustrophobia, let alone comprehension. For every tearjerking speech, there's a bout of irritating comic relief. For every one of my audience's shouts of approval, there's a derisive giggle of disbelief.

However, when compared to its counterparts, "Battle of the Five Armies" has a level of confidence that's hard to fault, likely due to Jackson's comfort with the material. The amount of effort and spectacle demands to be seen on the big screen; you'd be doing it a disservice in any other medium (except for a DVD marathon.)  The movie, regardless of its faults, feels like the return of an old friend. It may not reach the caliber of "Return of the King", but "Battle of the Five Armies" is a serviceable conclusion, and a welcome end to our adventures in Middle Earth.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

"The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1" Review

I can't help but feel that as the Hunger Games series continues, I'm watching the director's cut of the whole story. Am I issuing a new complaint by saying the trilogy shouldn't be stretched out into four movies? As evidenced by the Divergent and Twilight series, I'm late to the party. However, I feel more disappointed by this truth than in those series, because the newest installment, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1, moves in the right direction: a new direction. Whereas Catching Fire spent half of its movie repeating the events of the original, Mockingjay is an Empire Strikes Back of sorts, testing our heroes' resolve and villain's strength, building to a cliffhanger climax. This movie is fine on its own, but here's the problem: this has to add on to Catching Fire, and with a combined 269 minutes of a second act, Mockingjay does too little, too late.

After sabotaging the 75th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) finds herself in District 13, an underground colony where the members of the resistance hide, plotting to take back the country of Panem from the rule of the Capitol and its leader, President Snow (Donald Sutherland). Recognizing Katniss as a symbol the public can rally behind in a rebellion, the president of District 13, Alma Coin (Juliane Moore), along with Capitol-executive-turned-rebel-spy Plutarch Heavensbee (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), plan to use her influence to turn the tides, gain supporters and spark a revolution. 

However, our heroine is conflicted. She feels guilt for the kidnapping of her best friend/lover Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), now a Capitol stooge, used to simultaneously taunt Katniss and quell any whispers of rebellion. Jennifer Lawrence, usually reserved as Katniss, allows her a bit more room to be impulsive and vulnerable, feeling the full brunt of the mental and emotional damage such events can do to a person..

The rest of the cast is hit or miss. Hutcherson gives a strong, nuanced performance; Hoffman settles in snugly with the ensemble; Sutherland is venomous and confident. However, actors such as Sam Claflin and Natalie Dormer are underused, Moore seems to be going through the motions, and Liam Hemsworth is as boring as ever.

Mockingjay - Part 1 switches up its satire, going from the madness of media to a look at public perception and the cult of celebrity. In order to promote their message, the rebels get the idea to create propoganda videos (endearingly entitled "propos"), and broadcast them across the districts to elicit public reactions. Time is spent analyzing every choice in order to help maximize the result, all while Katniss is groomed as a fierce symbol of defiance, to her awkward confusion. (Watching Jennifer Lawrence act as Katniss acting as a piss-poor actress is hilarious.) 

Although watching the seeds of rebellion spread and grow is fascinating, the studio's decision to split Mockingjay into two movies leads to filler, at times moving the plot along at a snail's pace. With love triangles, forced humor, and fight scenes that feel like an obligation to the promises of the trailer, the film's most emotional scenes are diluted. Instead of focusing on the little details, why not provide us with information about the war? Three movies in, and I still don't understand why the war between the Districts and Capitol started, who were the main players, why the Hunger Games were chosen over any other form of punishment, and why no one in 75 years ever chose to outwardly rebel as Katniss did. The series may be saving these answers for the last movie, but I'm getting Lost flashbacks.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 would have worked better instead of Catching Fire, slimming down the overall story. The cast works well; the satire is solid for the most part; the developments raise the stakes. However, how high can the stakes be raised until it's too much? With such a long second act, the last movie is now left to wrap everything up efficiently. I worry that Part 2 will either be overdone or left to bare bones, but there's potential in these characters and this subject matter. I'll remain optimistic.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.

"Dracula Untold" Review

Universal Pictures continues their recent kick of revamping the image of their classic movie monsters: first with 2010's The Wolfman, followed by this January's I Frankenstein. October is among us and we're presented with Dracula Untold. If The Wolfman was solid and I Frankenstein lackluster, Dracula Untold is somewhere in the middle, straying from its horror roots, but still packing enough goofy charm to keep me entertained for an hour and a half.

The disconnect between this film and the house that Bela Lugosi built extends even to the name: Luke Evans plays Vlad, a prince who employs the help of a vampire (Charles Dance) to gain the power to defend his kingdom from a warlord (Dominic Cooper). Gone is Dracula's nightmarish atmosphere and menace, replaced instead with medieval battles and CGI grandeur: the bastard child of Underworld and Lord of the Rings.

Evans, despite doing his best Russell Crowe impression, works with a well-crafted character, able to tap into different aspects of his personality. When given his trademark powers (super strength and speed, transformation into a bat, sharp fangs, etc.), Vlad undergoes a lust for blood, which if he succumbs to, will seal his fate as a vampire for eternity, as opposed to the 72-hour free trial the vampire lets him try. This development forms Vlad into a man who questions, how much evil can one justify doing in the name of the greater good? This is an aspect of the story that hasn't been explored in any story prior, but is a welcome addition to the mythology.

In Dracula Untold's final act, the two armies clash in a valley underneath a monastery. The CGI is on full display, shot with the plasticity of a Call of Duty game, as Vlad shows off, decimating waves of enemies with kick-ass superpowers. The testosterone-fueled Mountain Dew-drinking twelve-year-old in me is in heaven. The action hits all the notes one would expect, but never in a way that drags. It shows what it needs to and moves on: competent with fun little twists.

If describing Dracula Untold in one word, I think "competent" fits. For someone who walked into the theater ready to hate this movie, I found myself enjoying a lot more than I expected. call it the beneficiary of lowered expectations, but I thought the new take on the vampire was handled well enough that it never delved into a caricature. Come into the film, lower your suspension of disbelief, and you'll find it an entertaining first half to a Saturday double feature. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.  

  

"A Walk Among The Tombstones" Review

I feel like it's been ages since I've last typed away on this familiar screen. To try and excuse my absence, I thought I'd update you all on some events:

1) I got admitted into the University of North Texas for journalism. To put it blunt, I'm both excited and busy as hell. Five classes tend to beat all notion of free time out of oneself.

2) I got an internship writing for scifibloggers.com! This blog is supposed to be practice for other writing opportunities and because of my previous work on here, I got in! It's all exciting and I can't wait to see where it all takes me.

Despite writing for another site now, I wish not to abandon my first love. September 9th marked the anniversary of "The Man Without a Plan", and out of a desire to keep on keeping on, I type away now, writing another review. So what's on the docket this time? "A Walk Among The Tombstones."

The trailer showcases stylish use of shadow and cinematography that blends film noir with elements of a gritty 70's thriller. Toss in a straightforward mystery about a private investigator's search for the murderers of a drug trafficker's wife, put Liam Neeson in the starring role, and this looks like a winner, a strong entry into this year's fall lineup. Let me tell you, disappointment hurts.

The movie drudges along, packed with so many characters, it's difficult to keep track of all of them. As a result, I thought the movie had established enough to finish at the hour mark. Needless to say, I wasn't happy when I realized there was yet another hour to go. The script is so full, the movie requires three climaxes to finish tying up its loose ends. After the first time, most of the tension dissipates, and I just look at my watch, waiting for it all to be over.

Now, this doesn't mean the movie's unable to keep interest. Director Scott Frank (screenwriter for "Minority Report" and "The Wolverine"), along with the help of cinematographer Mihai Malaimare Jr. (The Master), creates a New York that's gloomy, yet intimate, reflecting whatever mood the main characters feel. Through a dynamic use of shadows, angles, and transition, Frank manages (for the most part) to capture a dark atmosphere and keep tension going throughout.

However, there are some moments where the tone and visuals clash. A scene shows the two murderers (David Harbour and Adam Davis Thompson) scoping out the house of their next victim. As they're about to abandon their search (the current situation interferes with their "ethics", I suppose), a young girl comes into view, wearing a bright red coat, walking her dog. The scene moves in slow-motion, and as she waves to them, an upbeat pop song plays. I think Frank's use of irony is supposed to accent how disturbed the killers' psyches are, but the scene comes out of nowhere, and is played over-the-top to the point where I found myself laughing at its goofiness..

Speaking of confused tone, do you remember how people reacted (and still react) to Jar Jar Binks in "Star Wars: Episode One - The Phantom Menace"? Whenever he was on screen, he stopped the plot in its tracks and annoyed the audience every chance he could get. As a six-year-old in 1999, I didn't think much of it, but in 2014, let me tell you, I've found my Jar Jar. Brian "Astro" Bradley (Earth to Echo) plays T.J., an abandoned teenager whom Neeson's character befriends and grows to care for. He's a stereotype: the tough kid with a heart of gold. Scrappy Doo is at least cute; T.J. starts irritating and gets to the point where I want him gone, by any means necessary. He desires to be a famous private investigator; we're supposed to find him cute and brave as he gets himself in harm's way. Oh, gag me. If this was a kid's film, a more lighthearted piece, I'd be fine, but in a movie full of rape, murder, and bodily dismemberment, does no one see wise-cracking, "adorable" comic relief as out-of-place?

It's all these little details that stack the odds against "A Walk Among The Tombstones", but no one can deny its stylish ability to create a gloomy atmosphere. Fans of Liam Neeson get what they expect: a gruff exterior, dry, dark humor, lots of fights, and another master class in how to threaten someone over the phone. His performance is tough, yet approachable: one of Neeson's better performances in recent years. It's an overly slow burn, but if you want to see Liam Neeson do what he does best, I won't fault you. However, it's nothing I'd recommend a theater trip for.

"Let's Be Cops" Review

On the "Let's Be Cops" Facebook page, this quote is posted: "Thinking is overrated. Get your ass over to the theater and be entertained!" So apparently if I don't think during this movie, I'll be entertained. What a misguided assumption. Perhaps the person who wrote that post was trying to warn us.. Whatever the case, the statement is wrong: "Let's Be Cops" lacks the blissful goofiness that would bring me to the nirvana-like state of the baby giggling at a silly noise or a well-handled fart joke. Instead, its jokes pile on top of each other, desperate for a laugh.

Jake Johnson and Damon Wayans Jr. star as Ryan and Justin, two thirty-year-old un-achievers who attend a costume party dressed as cops. The general public believes the two to be real, and after having a bit of fun with their new power, they raise the stakes on the charade, to the point where they buy a police car, patrol the streets, and get swept up in the middle of an arms smuggling deal.

The short review is this: "Let's Be Cops" is a bore. I openly laughed once. In 104 minutes, I laughed at a 30-second-long joke. (This is 0.48% of the running time, for those wondering.) The movie barrages, eventually suffocating the audience with action and jokes in its first half hour. It feels like the writers tried to cram as many jokes into a scene as possible, hoping one of them would hit. However, there's no time to let a joke sink in, so each impact falls flat.

When the movie does take a break, it slugs through, haphazardly crafting the plot as it goes along. It's as if the authors hadn't planned to do anything with certain locations and characters past the first act, and realizing there was an entire subplot left to go through, they had to tie every loose end together, logic be damned. By this point, I'm fidgeting around in my chair, checking the time. I don't care anymore.

Johnson and Wayans are each obnoxious in their own right. Johnson is more brash, with honking laughter and an abundance of unfocused energy. Wayans is the opposite, going on autopilot, save for a few scenes. He seems comfortable away from the insanity: smart thinking in real life, but I thought "thinking was overrated." When Johnson isn't bringing to mind a bad amateur night at the comedy club, Wayans is barely trying.

To sum it up, "Let's Be Cops" was a waste of time. The deciding factor in most flops this year so far is execution, and it's no different here. Giving power to those who shouldn't or don't have it is always a great source of comedy: look at "The Toxic Avenger", "The Nutty Professor", "Spaceballs". However, the pacing is a mess, the story is ridiculous, the jokes aren't funny, and the final nail in the coffin for "Let's Be Cops" is the cardinal sin of comedy: it's boring, another example of a good premise being done wrong. Just skip this one. Thank you for reading, I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                                   "Let's Be Cops" trailer:

Some Thoughts On Robin Williams

With the recent passing of Robin Williams, I've been, as most people have, watching his stand-up comedy, to refresh fond memories but primarily, laugh. Willams' energy stunned me. His physicality was wild and unpredictable. His tongue spit debilitating wit at unfathomable speeds. For as boisterous as Williams could be, he possessed the ability to hush crowds. With hundreds of attentive eyes fixed on every word, he told us about our "spark of madness". He breathed life into "seize the day."

However, using "Dead Poets' Society" as an example, Williams never shied away from reality. "Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die." He was honest, in a way that was kind. It's so easy to lie with a smile on one's face, so much tougher to tell the truth in the same manner.

So as Williams raved on about alcohol, the history of golf, the Iraq War, Viagra, and the need to fulfill our exploratory, creative desires, we saw a portrait of a man, not a talent. He was someone, whom, especially in his work, was transparent, if we looked hard enough. He valued poetry, imagination, adventure, but most importantly, he recognized the need for balance. I think he realized that because the world could be so scary and painful, he needed to concentrate every kind of comfort and joy into a 67-inch hairy-armed package.

It was a tough calling to take on, but if there was anyone who got the closest to setting the scales right, it was him. Seize the day, my friends, just as Robin Williams taught us how. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" Review

My sense of anticipation is fickle. When anyone mentioned the new "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" movie prior to its release, my reaction ranged from reserved excitement to eye-rolling dismissal. This roller coaster of emotion wasn't stabilized by the flurry of news beforehand. Michael Bay was in the producer's chair; the turtles were planned to be aliens; the fans revolted, filmmakers repudiating the idea; creators Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman were brought in as character writers for the Turtles; the trailers revealed faithful renditions of the brothers, bolstered by high-energy action and well-crafted CGI; Megan Fox was cast as April O'Neil. It's very clear: this whole process was a cluster of madness.

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" is a comic book turned TV phenomenon turned movie series, centering around four turtles (Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo) and a rat named Splinter. All are exposed to a mutagen causing volatile humanoid growth, taking refuge in New York's sewer systems. Splinter becomes an adoptive father to the turtles, teaching them the art of ninjitsu, so that when the time is right, they can defend the city from the Shredder, leader of a criminal syndicate of ninjas called the Foot Clan. The turtles' main ally in their battles is April O'Neil, a driven reporter who'll do anything to get her story, even if that means getting captured by the bad guys.

In this movie's origin story, O'Neil is frustrated by the fluff stories she's assigned. Desperate to make her break as a serious reporter, she stumbles across the scene of a Foot Clan robbery, foiled by a hulking, shadowy vigilante. Following the trail leads her to the turtles, who are hesitant to trust her, fearing she'll expose their existence. A few encounters lead to a working partnership and when the Shredder (Tohoru Masamune) arrives in New York, they team up to stop a plot threatening to harm the citizens and seize New York under the name of the Foot.

What plagues the film is indecisiveness. Often times scenes build up atmosphere, whether it be a heartwarming talk between the Turtles or a menacing encounter with Shredder, and suddenly, the scene will slam to a halt for a joke. It's as if the filmmakers decided no scene in a kids movie can exist without some corny humor. Other moments flip the script, attempting to make this all sound plausible, but fall apart as characters make wisecracks, attempting to show the movie is aware of its own silliness. These aren't cute flirtations with the fourth wall; they clunkily interject in the plot, wasting time. There's a time for comedy, action, suspense, drama, and the film shows no restraint, letting it all whiz by.

The plot muddles along, attempting to tie in a genetic researcher/entrepreneur (William Fitchner) with connections to O'Neil's father, her relation to the turtles (told in poorly-edited exposition), and a subplot regarding April's cameraman (Will Arnett) trying to get her in the sack. For a movie about reptilian martial artists who fight crime and eat pizza, there are hefty amounts of dialogue: sprawling exposition and plot reveals that attempt to relay any semblance of story, but go in and out the mind like cinematic mush.

Fox is given an unbelievably dense character, whom after somehow getting a job in a respectable (again, loose use of the term) TV news station, acts as if mentioning giant anthropomorphic ninja turtles won't raise any executive's eyebrows, and has the audacity to whine about getting fired when she spent the previous scene incoherently babbling 'evidence' of said turtles' existence to her boss (Whoopi Goldberg collecting a check). Now, Megan Fox has become somewhat of a poster girl for ditzy bombshell actress/models in recent years, but she didn't write her character. April O'Neil is a bore in this film, spewing exposition and hiding for three-quarters of every battle. She doesn't show any investigative skills exalting her to any status other than smiling in front of the camera. While Fox can be seen staring into space during a fight scene, it's not like the script give her much else to do. She tries to bring some energy in the beginning, but the character just takes up space.

Now, I know the three-star rating is beginning to confuse the lot of you, so I'll switch gears here. The plot is weightless, creating little to no impact. In a strange way, this helps the film. Unlike the "Transformers" series, which equally lacks plot but sprawls on for 150-plus minutes, offending ethnicities and stereotypes, "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" is just bland, a light PG-13 where the harshest word spoken is 'ass': surprisingly easy to sit through. the bad stuff is just mediocre, but when the movie hits gold? It's a surge of nostalgia.

Laird and Eastman save this film. The turtles are faithful interpretations of the originals (who could've expected such a result from their creators, right?), well-acted by the physical and voice actors. As per usual, Raphael's gruff badassery and Mikey's wide-eyed antics steal the show, leaving kids to leave the theater quoting their best lines for weeks to come. The turtles' brotherly bickering brings a smile to my face, especially as they try to stop Mikey from embarrassing himself in an attempt to woo April (all set to the tune of The Turtles' "So Happy Together".) The CGI is well done: not only do the turtles look like they're on the set, but their faces are expressive, bolstered by the actors' range of emotion. Kudos to Pete Ploszek (Leonardo), Alan Ritchson (Raphael), Jeremy Howard (Donatello), and Noel Fisher (Mikey), who capture the spirit of the turtles phenomenally.

Is this a good film? Absolutely not. The plot is a bore, when it doesn't try to cram in subplots and secondary characters. However, the movie portrays the turtles so well and so entertainingly, with riveting action and clever comedy, that I ended up having fun. Fans of the old and new shows will enjoy the turtles' camaraderie and fighting skills. After the rest is sifted away, we're left with an energetic big-budget episode of the Ninja Turtles show, and to be honest, I'm happy with that result. With the sequel already officially announced, here's hoping Laird and Eastman can take over the show and give us the playful action powerhouse the fans desire. Check it out if you're a fan; if not, wait for streaming services to pick it up.

Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                    "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" trailer:

  

  

  

"Guardians of the Galaxy" Review

An alternative to the six-star rating system I've coined is the John C. Reilly barometer.™  "Gangs of New York", "Chicago", "Step Brothers", "Wreck-It Ralph": they're great movies, but what do they all have in common? The curly-haired funnyman. The number of good films I've seen the actor in has surpassed coincidence, so as an ongoing theory, I claim John C. Reilly to be as strong a beacon for film quality as Kevin Bacon is for networking. This week, I'm testing the barometer once again, and I'm happy to say, the evidence is in my favor. The newest recipient of the John C. Reilly seal of approval is "Guardians of the Galaxy". (Reilly plays a policeman.)

Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is a thief-for-hire, scrounging the galaxy for treasure as the blaster-wielding Star-Lord (at least, that's what he calls himself). His newest foray involves an orb that, due to its intense power, attracts Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace), whom assisted by the assassin Gamora (Zoe Saldana), vows to use the orb's power to conquer the galaxy.

Naturally, there's a small legion after Peter. Not only is Gamora after the orb, but a pair of hunters, the raccoon-like berserker Rocket (Bradley Cooper) and giant tree-humanoid Groot (Vin Diesel) are after the bounty Quill's boss (Michael Rooker) has set on his head (Peter's attempts to sell the orb for himself didn't go unnoticed). After a chaotic meeting, the four are captured and thrown in prison. After recruiting Drax (Dave Bautista), whose family was murdered by Ronan, they form a shaky alliance to help one another in their pursuits of money, vengeance, freedom, and redemption.

"Guardians of the Galaxy" is one of the most anticipated movies of the summer. To say so is surprising; the film's one of the more obscure properties in Marvel's line-up. This creates a paradox of expectations: this is a fairly unknown source material, so the general public doesn't know what an adaptation should be like. However, due to the Marvel name, the public expects something fresh and vibrant; the brand, like John C. Reilly, has become synonymous with quality.

"Guardians" is comfortable when relishing in its off-kilter swagger, as Star-Lord uses a rat/lizard hybrid as a microphone to sing Redbone's "Come And Get Your Love", or as the movie explores, in glorious slow-motion, Rocket's assault rifle fetish (a cinematic first, I'm sure). Director/writer James Gunn infuses scenes with witty, playful dialogue; the characters have a blast bantering back and forth, leading to some of the most enjoyable Marvel movie quotes to date.

However, Gunn is no Whedon. Despite some of "Guardians'" scenes resembling "The Avengers", primarily a couple Groot battles, Joss Whedon's light-hearted popcorn film full of punchlines and silly faces takes a couple more risks with Gunn at the helm. A scene in a bar has Rocket and Drax on the verge of a brawl, both drunk and insulted. While the three-way fight between Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor was played for laughs and bombastic action, Rocket and Drax's dilemma comes off as both humorous and pathetic. Gunn and co-writer Nicole Perlman don't show these characters as heroes, but people (I use the word loosely) trying to make the best of their situations. They're violent, desperate, grieving, full of loss and hurt. These characters' vulnerabilities are put on the spotlight, free of any romanticism the "brooding gritty hero" stereotype usually brings to the table. They can be pitiful and pathetic, but they're honest in a way that feels completely natural.

Where the movie begins to falter in its latter half, where its loose, haphazard confidence tightens in the wake of a typical superhero climax. For a movie so comfortable being tongue-in-cheek, almost to the point of parodying other superhero movies, as Ronan's plan nears closer to fruition, the gang suits up and plays it straight. Now, this isn't "The Dark Knight" or anything; we have nuggets of the sarcastic, hyper-energetic first half, just not as much. While I can understand the necessity for a superhero film to follow the cliches of rallying the troops and leading one last stand as part of crafting a more cohesive plot, I can't help but feel disappointed Gunn and Perlman didn't keep pushing the ante and taking more risks, testing the boundaries of what a Marvel audience can take. I found details in the resolution to be sequel bait, and while the climax is huge, it's mostly predictable, in terms of what stages the climax needs to go through (see "Captain America: The Winter Soldier").

Despite a few setbacks, "Guardians of the Galaxy" is impressive. Its humor, characters, direction, and tone make it a unique experience, enjoyable from start to finish. The risks Gunn and team take pay off well, and I hope that with the film's success, later movies in the superhero genre will take even more risks, expanding their artistic horizons. Full of fun and heart, the movie earns a good recommendation.

Thank you all for reading, I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

P.S. I cannot stress this enough. People, this is a Marvel movie. Stay through the credits! There are two after-movie scenes: one in the middle of the credits and one afterwards. Not only do these kinds of scenes foreshadow and give hints to the sequels, they provide an incentive to remain and recognize the work from the hundreds of people whose day jobs go into the entertainment. Let's show them our respect and have some fun while doing so. :)

                                                               "Guardians of the Galaxy" Trailer:

"Boyhood" Review

Sunday afternoon at the Angelika Film Centre in Plano, Texas is packed: the lines reach the back of the door. A pair of college kids split up: divide and conquer the line is the way to go, winner take tickets and bragging rights. As I enter theater number 2, the room is reaching capacity. I need to act fast. I choose the seat in front of a lad wearing spectacles who more than likely puts my 'film nerd' cred to shame. A few trailers whiz by; I make mental notes to check out a few. Suddenly, the jangly opening chords of Coldplay's "Yellow" fills the air. Cue the title card: "Boyhood."

For the first forty-five minutes, my mind reflects on the articles I read prior: Richard Linklater's "Boyhood" is a marvel of production. Following the same group of actors for eleven years, it's the closest a coming of age story has come to being seen in real time. It questions iron-clad understandings of family, growth, and what it means to be a man. Already, "Boyhood" is regarded as one of the best films of the year, the decade, the century.

However, as the movie progresses the articles fade, and instead I follow the lives of the characters. Mason (Ellar Coltrane) remains quiet for the most part, an observer soaking up information like a sponge. He's distracted, doesn't turn in his homework, and rebels against the expected go-to-college, get-a-job path. Samantha (Lorelei Linklater) is his older sister, outspoken but good-hearted. She annoys and irritates her family, but her comments are blunt, hard truths, often necessary to the situation at hand. Olivia (Patricia Arquette) is their mother: single and struggling, not just with finances and the pressures of earning a college degree, but with her identity, as well. In a shouting match with her date, she exclaims, "I was somebody's daugther; now I'm somebody's mother!" There was no time to discover where she stood in the world, exploring who she wanted to be before responsibility was thrust on her. On the other end of the spectrum lies Mason Sr. (Ethan Hawke), the kids' father, a man-child, happy to drive in his GTO, away from responsibility towards any idyllic stress-free success.

The years bring new fads, people, ideas, influences, complications, and freedoms. Texas becomes a perfect melting pot for these events: Mason is exposed to the indie rock, pot-smoking weirdness of Austin, the gun-toting, church-going charm of the country. On the surface, these locations and their inhabitants make us laugh; we think Linklater is satirizing. And while these portrayals are exaggerated, the movie doesn't needlessly take sides. The characters are raised liberally, but it doesn't mean Mason doesn't enjoy going out shooting with his grandfather. The differences are never enough to split people up; they're all just trying to navigate and make sense out of life.  

"Boyhood" ends in the desert sunset. Mason and a new college friend sit in a valley, getting to know each other. They talk about their roommates and how much fun college can be. A pause in the conversation leads to the friend questioning the idea of "seizing the moment." In a moment of eternal pot-filled wisdom, she flips the phrase: "the moment seizes us."

We are vulnerable, aware of our own mortality, and absolutely terrified. For how old we get, we are not only unable to forge a path to what we believe to be glory, success, or peace, we have no idea how to. As Mason Sr. puts it, explaining his arrangement of the songs in a Beatles mixtape: "First, it's about the party, then somebody else says 'no, it's about God', 'no it's about love and pain', then the last one just asks, 'Can't we learn to be happy with what we have?'"

"Boyhood" reminds us that for as much as we pump up our importance and place so much weight on our decisions, we all succumb to time. Death is inevitable, but as long as we appreciate the time we do have, we'll be okay. The moment seizes us; mine is currently filled with couples falling in love, friends discussing the Palestinian-Isreali conflict, and a singer-songwriter belting out a soulful melody. Seems like I'm doing just fine.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.

                                                                               "Boyhood" trailer:

"The Purge: Anarchy" Review

If this situation can be spun positively, I hope it errs in the direction of the art house. I hate to support the claim critics can't enjoy silly B-movies, but if "The Purge: Anarchy" reveals anything, it's this: movie marketing works like air fresheners. If people catch a whiff of what smells like a good idea, they'll come. Never mind the execution.

The "Purge" series takes place in 2023, where America's leaders set up a national holiday called The Purge, where for 12 hours, all crime is legal. The populace has a chance to release their ill willed desires and as a result, both unemployment and crime rates have plummeted. It seems like a sound idea, but as the movies follow people trying to live through the night, they question if these ends can truly justify the means.

The first film centered around a family defending their house from invasion; this sequel uses three vantage points: Sergeant, a brooding, gun-laden man looking to purge (Frank Grillo), Eva and Cali, a mother and daughter forced out of home by a militant group (Carmen Ejogo and Zoe Soul), and Shane and Liz, a couple on the brink of divorce hunted by a hooded gang (Zach Gilford and Kiele Sanchez). As the night progresses, they cross paths and team up to increase their odds for survival.

There are signs of improvement; the stakes have been raised. In the city, dangers lurk around every corner, from independent gangs to mentally ill snipers, bear traps, and Gatling gun-wielding maniacs. As the group treks through the city, the camera does a nice job sizing up the threat, emulating the feeling of being a rat caught in a maze. These silent scenes build tension: highlights of the movie.

Characters come off less annoying than the original (the androgynous-looking son set the bar for blank-faced idiocy last time around). Instead of excruciating, they're just bland. Sergeant orders the group through gritted teeth, counting how many times the director told him to pace back and forth to seem indecisive about where his loyalties lie. The couple takes up space in the frame. Now, the daughter charms with some jokes and development with Sergeant, but her naivete grates.

Writer/director James DeMonaco attempts to beef up the story, throwing in a plot involving a group of anarchists opposing the New Founding Fathers, claiming the Purge to be a method of eliminating the lower class. While the idea sparks intrigue (and comparisons to the 99 percent debate), the methodology is the same: it's about being behind the winning gun. In the end, power, not justice wins the day; the cycle of history repeats: today's rebels are tomorrow's oligarchs.

The movie paints the Purge as a way to make all crime legal. The statement carries negative connotation, linking to murder, robbery, kidnapping, etc, but what's legal isn't necessarily what's morally sound. If ruled by a government allowing its citizens to commit atrocities, isn't there a moral duty to overthrow it? Does morality take precedence over legality? Does the law favor those in power? DeMonaco chooses not to bother with any of the aforementioned questions. His premise exists solely to whip up a reason for why citizens have Uzis and are allowed to torture and mutilate one another. How quaint. How inspired.

In short, this is a waste of time. Released a year and a month after the original, "The Purge: Anarchy" is a classic example of a sequel being a product, existing simply to draw audiences in, squeeze their money, and bombard them with violence for 103 minutes. Call it the benefit of lowered expectations that I don't hate it like I did the original, but this is cinematic mush. Don't even bother.

Thank you all for reading; I'm The Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                       "The Purge: Anarchy" trailer:

"Tammy" Review

"Tammy" is everything I did and didn't expect. The few trailers promised an unapologetic, raunchy road trip, but under the surface lies drama, with more tragedy and introspection than pratfalls and f-bombs. Does it work all the time? I don't even think it works half the time, but regardless, I give props to director/writer duo Melissa McCarthy and Ben Falcone for crafting a strange little flick that feels equal parts familiar and unique.

McCarthy stars as the titular character whose life gone to shambles plays out like Mouse Trap: the deer hits the car, the car makes her late for work, the lateness leads to a termination of employment, and the termination gives her just enough time to catch her husband cheating with the next door neighbor. Hurt and betrayed, she sets off with her grandma Pearl (Susan Sarandon) on a road trip to Niagara Falls to clear her head and find a fresh start.

Tammy is the most clear-cut version of the persona McCarthy has created over the years: a boisterous, combative exterior with a vulnerable interior. She can rage about egotistical managers and the quality of fast food meat with the best of them, but when confronting an unfaithful spouse, trying not to cry, it's hard for me not to do the same.

For all the swearing and aggression, Tammy is innocent. As she approaches men in a bar or robs a fast food restaurant wearing a greasy paper bag (the only proper substitute for a ski mask, am I right?), she does so in the same way a teenager tries to seem "cool" when every expression reveals she's in over her head. Tammy is a simple person with simple emotional reactions, and the movie tracks her progress as she strengthens her emotional intelligence. While this is novel commentary advocating the importance of such skills, Tammy's innocence doesn't translate well to comedy. McCarthy's persona feels diluted, and numerous jokes fall flat.

As a counter to Tammy's innocence, Grandma Pearl is a ball of fire. With beer and scotch in hand, Susan Sarandon breathes life into every scene she's in. She's clearly having fun, shutting down non-muscled dudes in muscle shirts, sparking a one-night stand with a bar patron, performing the Allman Brothers Band's "Midnight Rider", jutting her chin out to catch the low notes. In a movie with little surprises, Sarandon throws me for a loop all the way through: the cause for most of my laughs throughout. Simply put, she steals the show.

Kathy Bates also excels as Lenore, Pearl's cousin, who likes wizards, knows how to dispose of evidence, throws a rocking lesbian Fourth of July party, and partakes in the simple delight of blowing stuff up. (Truth be told, as I reread this sentence, I have to wonder what McCarthy and Falcone's brainstorming sessions consisted of, and what, if anything, was left out.)

"Tammy" is, at best, hit and miss, with more misses than hits.  Its worst crime? Aside from the movie's bookends, the comedy is tame. Where Aykroyd and Belushi would push energy all the way through, McCarthy stops the story for awkward, drawn-out conversation. I wouldn't completely dismiss it; Bates and Sarandon delight and Tammy's odyssey towards maturation is kindly handled. I respect the film's off-kilter feel more than I enjoy it; at least it's a break from the "22 Jump Street" and "Neighbors" frat-boy camp. Fans of McCarthy will like it; but I recommend at least waiting until cable picks it up.

Thanks for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                            "Tammy" trailer:

(Author's note: as seen by the graphic above, I have developed a rating system, based off of 6 stars. The system goes as follows:

1 Star - Hate

2 Stars - Dislike

3 Stars - O.K.

4 Stars - Like

5 Stars - Love

6 Stars - The highest of high praise I can give: The Alpha Rating.

The decision to start a rating system is the product of analyzing other critics whom start their reviews with the score. After the reader gets a general idea of the critic's opinion, the writer extrapolates on their ideas, allowed to venture off into other schools of thought, free from having the entire piece be a justification for a rating.)

"Into The Storm" Review

Let me get the question on everyone's minds out of the way: yes, this movie IS "Twister". In "Into The Storm", a tornado, the biggest on record, rips through a small town, documented through the vantage points of a professional team of storm chasers, a high school vice principal (Richard Armitage), his sons (Max Deacon and Nathan Kress), and two thrill-seeking rednecks (Kyle Davis and Jon Reep).

I've finally lost my patience for 'found footage.' The genre exists to establish confidence that what you're watching is real, whether it be a monster, ghost, or tornado. When this is the goal, detail and logic are everything. So how convenient is it that not only do the storm chasers have cameras, the sons have them, the rednecks have them, and they all just happen to get within a yard of the tornado, body and camera completely unscathed by the debris? God forbid these people flee the area; they hold the footage with more reverence than their lives! No human behaves like this, so when the logic is flawed, the illusion is broken, and the only thing left from the 'found footage' style is inept cinematography.

For the most part, the cast goes on autopilot. Occasionally Armitage will pull out his Thorin Oakenshield voice when barking orders or searching for the eldest son, but throughout the movie, he looks bored. Sarah Callies of "Prison Break" and "The Walking Dead" fame plays a meteorologist whose work keeps her from her daughter, and while Callies is a strong actress, she's given barely anything to work with. Not all the performances are lifeless: Nathan Kress delivers some chuckles as a mischievous wisecracker, and the Davis/Reep duo delight with their antics. They bring much needed relief, carrying me through the glazed looks and affected monologues.

While the movie gets shots showing off the scope and power of the tornadoes, the majority of effects look like YouTube editing jobs or the virtual reality roller coasters at Chuck E. Cheese. What disappoints me is the same trick used in "Godzilla" where when the tornado hits, the movie teases the chaos, but then cuts to black. After the third blackout, I wonder if the studio just ran out of money to shoot more action.

"Into The Storm" can get close to crossing the border between "idiotic" and "B-movie fun" (what tornado movie isn't complete without a flying cow, after all?). However, the unrealistic dialogue, wooden acting, and irritating use of the 'found footage' style keeps it from being a full guilty pleasure. I do enjoy the climax, which gets equal parts ridiculous and entertaining, but outside of a few gasp-worthy moments, this is cinematic fluff. If you're a fan of tornado movies, I say wait until DVD, at least. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

"Into The Storm" releases in theaters on August 8th.

                                                                           "Into The Storm" trailer:

Author's note: This was the best thing to come out of the early screening. Completely free, super comfy.

"Earth To Echo" Review

This one's got potential. The pantheon of "boy meets alien" stories, including "E.T.", "The Iron Giant", and "Flight of the Navigator" can almost afford to include "Earth to Echo." It's a film that examines the bond of friendship under trial, adorned well by mystery, adventure, and comedy.

Alex (Tao Halm), Tuck (Brian "Astro" Bradley), and Munch (Reese Hartwig) are inseparable friends whose bonds are tested when the development of a freeway through their neighborhood threatens to split the boys up as their families move. During their last week, cell phones in the area go haywire, all stuck on the same amorphous image. After some googling, the boys discover the shape is a satellite image of the desert just outside of town. In the search for one last hurrah of adventure before the move, the boys ride their bikes at night into the desert, searching for the cause of the disturbances. What they find is an abandoned radio tower and a strange metal cylinder with an alien inside. They befriend the miniature being (resembles a baby owl robot), naming him Echo after the way he mimics any sound. Now it's up to the boys to help Echo find his spaceship and make his way back home.

"Earth to Echo" is best when focused on the boys' relationship. These actors take otherwise clumsy, underwritten characters and infuse them with life. Halm gives the stoic Alex quiet vulnerability, transparent as someone's words sting or warm his heart. Astro plays Tuck like a young Chris Rock: mischievous, vocal, yet unafraid to be a dork. Hartwig's Munch has goofy charm; for a token nerd, Hartwig shows restraint, staying silly without ever annoying. The background is filled with his antics, and made me chuckle throughout. They poke fun at each other, brainstorm, and sometimes fight, but never is their friendship questioned, remaining loyal like brothers.

If the movie only focused on the boys and how they deal with the pressures of moving apart, I'd be hooked. However, we still have an adventure to go on, and "Earth to Echo" tends to stay in after-school special territory, filling the story with stereotypes and cliches to pad it out. The secondary cast consists of ignorant parents, mean siblings, the misunderstood popular girl, the arrogant government official, etc. Where are the kids led in their journey? A pawn shop, a high school party, bars. These are all locations for kids to feel out-of-place, but the filmmakers seem to believe that just placing the kids in a bar can be intimidating without actually making the events or people so. In these sections, the story screeches to a halt and the movie goes on autopilot: there's not as much effort, not as much risk, and consequently, not enough to engage.

In its last third, the stakes are raised and the film begins to make do on the trailer's promises of action. (Echo's deconstruction of an eighteen-wheeler made my entire row go "Whoa."). As Echo shows off its powers and the kids get closer to the end, all the sci-fi grandeur blends with the emotional punch and brings to the whole thing to a heartwarming, exciting climax. Halm is at his best here: an underground scene with Echo reveals the skill of his expression. His face runs the gamut of emotion in a manner that's calculated, but works flawlessly. The ending, while bittersweet, shows maturity in a way other movies would abandon for an easy ending. This teaches kids how to handle with the realities of life, and the film's better for it.

"Earth to Echo" is a mixed bag: while the acting, atmosphere, and theme are top-notch, the cliches and clumsy script keep it from reaching its potential. Dismissing this as an "E.T." ripoff devalues its strengths, which are worth the price of admission. Go in, bring a bucket of popcorn, and enjoy a charming, intelligent ride. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man without a Plan, signing off.

                                                                              "Earth To Echo" trailer:

"The Signal" Review

I've been struggling. I saw "The Signal" more than a week ago, and (as my friends have continually noted) should have written this by now. Part of it is procrastination, but in order to avoid looking like a total jerk, I blame half on my inability to sum up my feelings. However, if I remove the grandeur, I'm going to end up at this statement: "The Signal" entertains, mixing surreal visuals with edge-of-your-seat tension to craft a dreamlike experience.

I was transported to a dream. The world presented on screen looked like my world: same people, same buildings, same trees and rivers. However, these people moved slower, the trees too aligned, the river a bit too raucous. The film's beginning is effective as a commercial for desert tourism, but I always felt a general sense of discomfort, logical and emotional.

Nic (Brenton Thwaites), Haley (Olivia Cooke), and Jonah (Beau Knapp) drive through the desert on their way to Haley's new California home. However, the hacker NOMAD follows: a thorn in their side. NOMAD has been taunting and pursuing the trio's attention since hacking into their M.I.T. servers: a constant presence in the back of their minds, simply asking "r u agitated?". The more they (and the movie) try to ignore it, the more it pushes, hacking into security cameras, email accounts, personal laptops. Like a monster in a nightmare, NOMAD is unavoidable, eventually getting the best of our hero's curiosities.

Before we know it, the movie thrusts us in the thick of the nightmare; the search for NOMAD leads to an abandoned shack, a sudden flash of light, and a blank white room. Lawrence Fishburne sits in a containment suit: a scientist scribbling notes on Nic's confused and terrified reactions. His demands for clarity are countered by deafening silence, off-hand questions about Nic's temperament, or requests to solve simple puzzles. No answers are to be found from the other scientists who don't acknowledge his presence, or in the blank medical records, or on the clock that doesn't look broken, but rather as if it never ticked at all. The movie then follows Nic as he tries to escape and find out who kidnapped him, why, where his friends are, and what it all means.

When I was a kid watching "The Twilight Zone", I wasn't always entertained. I wasn't always happy about the outcome. But I always was stuck in my seat. In the same way, "The Signal" is uncomfortable, but I'm looking to uncover the answers. There's an idea about what's happening, but the details evolve. I discover different pieces of information, and not all of them click, but they're not supposed to. The movie puts us in Nic's shoes, attempting to sift through all sources of information to find the truth. The environment is sparse, constricting; Nic is a rat in a maze trying to break the system.

With every development, my eyebrow raised. With every fallacy, I shook my head in disbelief, but I kept watching, enthralled by what the outcome could be. Does "The Signal" have the most original ending? No. Has the idea been done before? Yes. But in the age of extinction, I'm happy to see a story comfortable enough to ignore bombast and let the merits of the story speak for itself. Often times, those are the kinds of stories people remember. I'll fondly remember "The Twilight Zone", and something tells me I'll fondly remember "The Signal."

Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                                  "The Signal" Review:

"The Rover" Review

"The Rover" is an amalgamation not many could've predicted: part "Blues Brothers", "Pulp Fiction", "The Devil's Rejects", and "Of Mice and Men". It's indulgent by Hollywood's standards; such a film would normally trade Kubrick-like silence for explosions, a droning score for a wall of guitars, an episodic story for a stricter narrative. But this is the beauty of "The Rover": it indulges, provokes, discomforts. And it doesn't give a damn what you, or I, or anyone thinks.

Australia is now a dystopia, ten years after an event called "The Collapse." The inhabitants survive on scraps in a barren desert, shooting their way into any means they can use to live another day. And in the midst of all the chaos, Eric (Guy Pearce) is searching for his blue sedan. Three bandits have crashed their truck escaping from a shoot-out, so the next logical step was to take the car. This fuels Eric's rage as he chases the group down in their truck (apparently only takes about 45 seconds of maneuvering to free it from a pile of tires) interrogating, intimidating, and murdering anyone in his path. After coming across Rey (Robert Pattinson), the brother of one of the bandits, Eric forces Rey to lead him to the bandits' hideout to get back his prized possession...and his revenge.

Amidst the silence, there's an ever-present layer of tension. Someone always has a weapon, someone is always watching their back. Suddenly, a flurry of bullets rips a door apart, or an assailant makes his presence known. Guns also have a knack for making Rorschach paintings out of people's skulls. For the majority of the film, the theater was so quiet that when a cell phone rang, it filled up all the space in the room, echoing off the walls. (Never has a Nokia phone sounded so bold.)

All this madness is an overreaction; at least, we, the audience, can afford ourselves the luxury of analysis. We can find the comedy in how random these interactions can be, trying to defuse tension by latching on to a witty piece of dialogue. We can detach ourselves from the film and ask "how the hell does this kind of character end up here?" I don't think Eric is much aware of the oddity as he composes himself to make the ever-quotable statement, "I'm looking for a car." But we are. As a defense mechanism, we have to find a way to laugh, or cry, or come up with a logical reason for it all, in order to not give in to the insanity.

Eric, in a typical action picture, would be played by Jason Statham. His gruff exterior and 'don't-mess-with-me' attitude would contrast the cockiness of the bandits and we would root as he, justified through every battle, gets back what's rightfully his. In "The Rover", we have Guy Pearce. Pearce comes out guns-a-blazing. He bashes heads in. He robs, assaults, and murders. Statham is justified. Pearce is not. However, Pearce's eyes allow us to see the gears whirring in Eric's head. His 1960's computer of a brain lacks the programming to see another option, often taking the longer, more complicated route to be able to approach any situation from his status quo. But as Pearce's eyes also reveal Eric's vulnerability, it allows the audience just enough rope to hang on to his character, continuing to follow, out of sheer intrigue.

If there's a star-making performance in this film, Robert Pattinson earns it. I feel Pattinson will be forever known as "that kid with the botched nipple from Twilight", but as his track record with David Cronenberg shows, Pattinson is a man of the arthouse, perfect at capturing the mindset of off-kilter men. As Rey, Pattinson brings a child-like, almost innocent quality. Rey's happy-go-lucky attitude combined with his naivete is a sharp contrast to Eric's bitter outlook on life; there's a sense that if things could work out differently, Rey would be able to transcend the attitudes of the desert, do well for himself. However, Rey is so easily malleable that any strong enough personality can influence him, lead him down the darkest paths. Because of this, we sympathize with Rey's desire to just have a good life; he's like a puppy who's been kicked. He's the closest we get to an identifiable character, the emotional center of the film.

"The Rover" is a creature all its own: tense, hilarious, dark, heart-wrenching, vulgar, hopeful. Its risky storytelling and direction crafts an experience that leaves me in constant thought. What happens when men are pushed to a breaking point? Can we transcend our primitive desires in search for something more meaningful? What the hell is inside this blue sedan? "The Rover" provides answers, but the journey getting there is full of twists, laughs, shocks, and drama: worth every minute.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.

                                                                                           "The Rover" trailer:

"How To Train Your Dragon 2" Review

Images of "Star Wars" and "Indiana Jones" are popping in my head, and I feel it only appropriate to include the "How To Train Your Dragon" series in the same conversation. These characters are archetypes, these stories have been done to death. However, in the same way George Lucas add his ideas to the blend Kurosawa and Flash Gordon serials, Dean DeBois takes cues from Pixar and Lucas, infusing it with bold creativity and technological wizardry.

"How To Train Your Dragon 2" follows Hiccup (Jay Beruchel) in the Viking land of Berk, where the inhabitants now live harmoniously with dragons as companions. Hiccup is accompanied by his dragon, Toothless, excited to soar among the clouds, exploring new territories and islands. However, Hiccup is being pressured from his father, Stoick (Gerard Butler), the chief, to take on more responsibilities and become his successor. Hiccup is hesitant to accept the position, unsure of his place in the world, but there's no time to think, as Berk is threatened by a hunter (Djimon Hounsou) who's building a dragon army for invasion.

The cast does well: Beruchel gives Hiccup his awkward, kind charm, Butler balances being stern, goofy, heartbroken with ease. New characters such as the Dragon Rider (Cate Blanchett) and Eret (Kat Harrington), a young dragon trapper are welcome additions. The Dragon Rider finds a protege in Hiccup, teaching him all there is to know about dragons with the excitement of a puppy. Eret's the bad boy with a heart of gold. Imagine an animated Winter Soldier, if you will. The ladies of Deviantart will more than likely have their fan art already up.

Speaking of art, this animation is phenomenal. The amount of detail placed into every aspect of motion and design blows my mind. For someone who grew up during the polygonal era of the Nintendo 64 and early years of Pixar, to see the littlest hairs on the back of Hiccup's neck move in the wind or the diversity of each species, it's breathtaking. The movie allows each setting to exude atmosphere, looking like breathing paintings. (The credits show off some gorgeous hand-drawn concept art.) The effort is apparent and impressive: from the jam-packed battles to the simplest sunset, each frame of film dazzles.

When not pulsing with adventure, characters are being developed, heartstrings are being tugged, or laughs are being shared (usually because of Kirsten Wiig's snarky Ruffnut). However, similarly to Lucas's original "Star Wars" trilogy, the story moves smoothly between different focuses. The movie is stuffed, full to the brim, but executed in such a manner that it never feels exhausting, just right.

And while I think the first "How To Train Your Dragon" is a more impressive movie, I find myself liking the sequel a bit better. This advances the story, develops new aspects of the characters, challenging them in different ways, bringing in new ideas that not only make sense in the universe, but fit like a glove. This has the makings of a strong, entertaining, intelligent series. It's not really a smash hit (as I write this, "22 Jump Street" has beaten it in box office draw), but similarly to "Captain America: The Winter Soldier", "How To Train Your Dragon 2" is a solid film: capturing the Saturday morning matinee feel while backing it up with wisdom and creativity. It's definitely worth your time. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                       "How To Train Your Dragon 2" trailer:

"The Fault In Our Stars" Review

"Neither novels nor their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species." John Green begins the novel "The Fault In Our Stars" with this author's note, and while his statement serves to preempt any claims of the novel's medical inaccuracies, it applies for the film.

If you lay out a synopsis of "The Fault In Our Stars", some sections stretch the elastic band of disbelief. But, as Green puts it, this is fantasy, and its strength comes from what it represents. By this measure, "The Fault In Our Stars" is a charming, intelligent work that makes the claim that all lives are immeasurably valuable, regardless of circumstance. And it does it all through the lens of a star-crossed love story.

Indianapolis is home to seventeen-year-old Hazel Grace Lancaster, (Shailene Woodley), whose cancer has a way of making her lungs "suck at being lungs". Cancer not only takes over a person's body, but identity; Hazel struggles to find some bit of life that's not prescribed, and in a support group, she finds it in fellow fighter Augustus Waters (Ansel Egort). Augustus is a dreamer: a man of unlit cigarettes, metaphors, and a thirst for legacy. When matched with realist Hazel, the two hit it off, sharing text messages, books, and international travel, slowly falling in love.

In the same vein as the novel, their relationship builds slowly. Gus's lines, which would usually melt any girl, finds a diminished return on Hazel, whose wit hilariously throws Gus off his game. The movie isn't frigid about their love, however; these characters aren't opposites thrown together in a 'what if?' scenario, bickering until they find a common thread. This develops naturally through each first: call, date, kiss, etc.

Woodley and Egort are ugly criers. They snivel, scream, and snot up. Woodley's face turns forty different shades of red, while Egort juts his lip out, uttering unintelligible curses while bellowing like a baby whale. In other words, they're perfect. Their chemistry is electric; Egort charms, Woodley blushes, they argue, joke, and weep. It's almost impossible not to believe they're actually in love.

As far as adaptation goes, fans of the novel will find a myriad of little touches: scenery, actors' body language, props. The one shortcoming is common with all adaptations: the use of time. I read the novel in two days, saw the movie in two hours. The film sticks closer to plot while the book takes its time, strengthening the relationship. The novel lets Hazel and Gus do things; the movie has things happen to Hazel and Gus, giving them less of an active role. This change of pace isn't inherently bad, but simply a consequence of the medium.

"The Fault In Our Stars" takes its characters as they are: pretentious, naive, intelligent, broken. It doesn't change them, but rather shows the peak of their lives. There is beauty, joy, glory in everyone; it doesn't matter what your race, gender, class, health or financial standing is. Everyone can find love and purpose in their lives, regardless of what society can see on the surface. It's a beautiful film with loving characters making the best of their little infinity.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                      "The Fault In Our Stars" trailer:

"Maleficent" Review

I don't think it's uncommon opinion to call Sleeping Beauty the most boring of the Disney Princesses. I mean, if Princess Aurora is passed out for a good chunk of the film, there's not much development one can have, right? By far, the most dynamic character in the 1959 film is the villain, Maleficent. She's powerful, majestic, enjoys every second of her villainy. Who else will condemn an infant to sleep-like death for being snubbed from a party? You may see it as a pathetic motivation for evil, but I'm fascinated at the kind of temper and rage that lies under the surface in order for her to snap. 55 years later, we finally have an answer.

The movie takes place during the events of "Sleeping Beauty"; this is pretty much a remake. But the benefit comes from understanding the backstory; Maleficent (Angelina Jolie) comes of age in the Moors, a land full to the brim with fairies and other magical creatures. With her powerful wings and magic, she assumes the role of protector, leading a defense force of tree-like creatures against the neighboring human kingdom.

Jolie is a powerhouse; I don't think any other actress would able to command such a presence. I could feel my breath cut off as she strides into a palace hall, drawing every eye. No matter what situation, Maleficent is in control, gleefully shutting down anyone who dare stand in her way. Jolie gives her the lifeblood, regality, and menace to not only scare, but fascinate. She can be playful, silly, but never in a way that satirizes or feels over-the-top. It's just another side of glee.

The production oozes atmosphere; it's an organism, reacting and adapting to the forces around it, mainly Maleficent. Light and shadow dance back and forth: obscuring profiles, draping Maleficent in shadow except for her eyes, always piercing. When furious, green flashes of light surround her, the orchestra swelling to a chaotic climax. The forest, at its darkest, writhes with a wall of thorns, uninhabitable. However, the Moors can be breathtakingly beautiful with its crystal blue skies; dragon-like fish swim through the air while goblin dwarfs go about their merry cheer below. The swamp glows with calming multi-colored lights at night, and Maleficent walks through the Moors like Adam through the Garden of Eden, completely at peace.

Careful writing integrates the mythos into the story; this is a solid script tying together all the little details. For a fairytale so enveloped in its suspension of disbelief, the movie takes its logic seriously and cleverly enough to bring the audience in. Each character is integrated well, especially Aurora (Elle Fanning) whose cheerful naivete is delivered with charm by Fanning.

"Maleficent" is proof that sometimes, a different point of view can completely change a story for the better. The original "Sleeping Beauty" never carried much weight in my eyes, outside of Maleficent. Here, she's the focus of a film that's not only marvelous, dark, and clever, but heartfelt and emotionally enrapturing. I love this new take on the fairytale; go see it if you haven't already. I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                                 "Maleficent" trailer:

 

"A Million Ways To Die In The West" Review

I paid $8.25 to see a sheep's genitals. Need I say more?

Seth MacFarlane's "A Million Ways To Die In the West" satirizes Westerns with a vibrant, romanticized production design, but the similarities to "Blazing Saddles" stop there. This has little of the charm and none of the wit Mel Brooks and team infused 40 years ago. MacFarlane can satirize well; the "Family Guy" parodies of "Star Wars" teased the originals with love while succeeding on their own merits. Here, when the plot doesn't drag, the jokes are at best unfunny, at worst, horrendous.

MacFarlane plays Albert Stark, an unskilled sheep farmer living in the town of Old Stump in 1882. His disdain for the "American West" is legendary, rivaling the most cultured 21st Century historian. Full of rampant shootouts, primitive medicine, and cholera, Stark's environment sickens him. The only thing keeping him going is his lovely girlfriend Louise (Amanda Seyfried), whom, dissatisfied with Albert's wishy-washy demeanor, breaks up with him for Foy (Neil Patrick Harris), a rich, wondrously mustachioed snob.

At the same time, a ruthless team of bandits, led by Clinch Leatherwood (Liam Neeson) zone in on Old Stump. Clinch sends his disgruntled wife Anna (Charlize Theron) and another bandit in to spy for a week, giving him and the rest of the crew time to rest before the ransacking begins. After Albert saves Anna during a bar fight, the two develop a friendship, but her past is unbeknownst to Albert, and may end up putting him in the middle of affairs that are way over his head.

My "Blazing Saddles" comparison starts and ends with the production design, which is similarly vibrant and romanticized. The opening credits fly through the mountains with grand titles and a bouncy, adventurous score; the atmosphere is wonderfully set. Star-lit skies, wide landscapes, and subtly sepia-toned settings make the film not only faithful to its genre, but visually appealing.

For whatever the movie has going for it in looks, the humor murders. The movie treats its audience like imbeciles, pairing each joke with an explanation, just in case we didn't get it the first time around. Stark is such a coward, he runs away from the comedy. It's as if MacFarlane is scared the character can't hold his own with the movie's jokes. To be fair, I don't blame Albert: one can only take so many bodily fluids and grotesque dismemberment. There's no punchline under the surface; the jokes are obvious, crass, and unpleasant. 

Each character is given one note and one joke to work off of; this is a waste of talented cast, primarily Sarah Silverman and Neil Patrick Harris. (I didn't think it was possible for him to fall flat, but boy was I wrong.) The only ones unharmed are Charlize Theron, whose spunk, snark, and fun-loving attitude carry most of the film, and Liam Neeson, who relishes in playing the over-the-top bad-ass. Both infuse enough charm to get me through the movie. 

For an hour and fitfy-five minutes, the movie slumps along, padding out the story with meaningless subplots. When the climax is teased, the movie continues on, throwing in more unfunny jokes, constantly draining on my nerves. I'm surprised I didn't leave the theater with a headache. I'm going to consider this my one saving grace.

Have I made my feelings towards "A Million Ways To Die In The West" known? I'm going to sum this up: this movie was insufferable: unfunny, offensive, boring, and irritating without a shred of charm. I was furious in the theater, the parking lot, and the restaurant where I went to get lunch afterwards. All hope abandon ye who enter here. Thanks for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.

                                                                   "A Million Ways To Die In The West" Review