"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: