Pixels: Misses Expectations – Despite Being So Low to Begin With

Occasionally Hollywood delivers a film that defies expectations in all the wrong ways. Pixels, surprisingly directed by Chris Columbus (Harry Potter 1 & 2, Home Alone), is one of these films, somehow managing to be boring, irritating and pathetically sloppy all in one sad helping.

Premise: Video Games as Aliens threaten to destroy the Earth and only nerds and convicts can help. Result: Unfortunately, as awful as you think. Or maybe worse.

Pixels sets up the calamity that will ensue by taking us to our past where Nintendo and arcades reigned supreme in the hearts and minds of geeks and nerds all across America. We are introduced to younger versions of Brenner (Adam Sandler), Cooper (Kevin James), Ludlow (Josh Gad) and villainous Eddie (Peter Dinklage) all of whom excel at said video games.

Rivalries are propped up with vacuous characterization and a time capsule is fired off into space. Little did we know that our rudimentary technology and hilariously innocuous 2D games would be taken as monstrous threats by a significantly more advanced race of beings.

Seventh Son: This Was Just Terrible

Director Sergey Bodrov has delivered one of the worst films of recent memory. Inspired by the novel The Spook’s Apprentice by Joseph Delane, it touts a big budget and big stars but reminds us that sometimes, it is better to not be talked about at all.

Premise: Witch Hunters try to destroy Witch Queen Mother Malkin and find that there is more to life than Witch-hating. Result: Unintended nightmares and unendurable melancholy.

Master Gregory (Jeff Bridges), a “spook” or some sort of witch/monster-hunter during the Dark Ages (maybe) takes on as apprentice the young Tom Ward (Ben Barnes), who is the seventh son of the seventh son, a mystical birthright that predisposes him to this sort of work. There is urgency in his training as Mother Malkin (Julianne Moore), a witch queen, has arisen again before the Blood Moon.

The Legend of Hercules: Yeah. As Bad as You Think It Is.

There are some movies you cannot unsee. Director Renny Harlin gives us a textbook example of this tragic phenomenon with his cinematic drivel known as The Legend of Hercules, a B-action movie that depends entirely on pretty people doing nonsensical things.

Premise: Another Hercules origin story. Result: Poor performances and terrible, laughable action sequences make this film unwatchable unless black-out drunk, or on your way there.

Queen Alcmene (Roxanne McKee) is so over her husband King Amphitryon’s (Scott Adkins) world conquering antics. So much so that with the help of mentor Chiron (Rade Serbedzija), she begs Hera to help her resulting in Zeus coming down and leaving her with child, you know, that age old Greek romantic tale.

From this blessed union comes Hercules (Kellan Lutz), hated by Amphitryon and his son and Hercules’ half brother Iphicles (Liam Garrigan). And as punishment for loving Hebe (Gaia Weiss), the object of Iphicles’ affection, Hercules is banished on a trek that would see him dead. The film is then focused on Hercules’ rise.

Jessabelle: Just Awful

Director Kevin Greutert (Saw 3D: The Final Chapter) lays a horror egg with Jessabelle that simply cannot be salvaged. While there are certainly a few suitable scares and some good visual work delivered, the film amounts to nothing more than a messy horror derivative whose many loose ends and plot holes tentacle off screen to suffocate any form of entertainment the story might provide.

Premise: Jessebelle returns to her childhood home in Louisiana after a tragic car accident, only to come face to face with a long-tormented spirit. Result: A horror-still birth plagued by poor delivery on pretty much every level.

Jessie (Sarah Snook) is left temporarily crippled after a tragic (and fairly random) accident that also claims the lives of her boyfriend and their vaguely referenced unborn child. Relegated to a wheelchair and a general state of catastrophic helplessness, Jessie must go to live with her father Leon (David Andrews), a cold, ruined man ever-skulking about in a dense drunken haze. He is prone to bouts of sudden, inexplicable rage directed at Jessie, further heightening her tragic vulnerabilities.

The Apparition: Proving Once Again Why Some Movies Should Not Be Made

In what might be contender for worst horror film of the year, Director Todd Lincoln delivers The Apparition, a film that is as poorly orchestrated as it is unsatisfying. While it manages a few creepy moments and bumps in the night, the film as a whole felt rushed, incomplete and unnecessary.

Premise: A couple is haunted by a supernatural presence that was unleashed during prior paranormal experiments. Result: A dull, poorly executed film that felt miserably long despite its relatively short length.

The Apparition began with an intriguing premise: through proper amplification of energy, in particular brain waves, is it possible to will connection to another dimension, where spirits lie in wait.  Lincoln manages to deliver a few interesting scenes here establishing, however loosely, this premise, including eerie footage of a séance many years past.  Followed by a frightening film of a present day experiment gone horribly wrong, we are instantly led to believe that this film will deliver thrills and terror.

It does, in fact, do nothing of the kind.  As if the creative juices stopped flowing the instant the credits came on, Lincoln seems unable to string together a cohesive narrative, instead taking a flimsy premise and stretching it out as long as possible, delivering nothing more than 82 minutes that might best have been 5. It should be noted, of course, that Lincoln’s prior experience as a director is four film shorts and no feature length, a fact somehow made more vivid with this film.

Nevertheless, we are thrust into present day where Kelly (Ashley Greene) and Ben (Sebastian Stan) are lovers who live together in a home recently built by her parents. Lincoln forces us to experience real terror as we watch these two shop at Costco, tickle one another on the couch, or exchange dialogue that might have been lifted from some pre-teen’s diary.

This audience nightmare continues on endlessly until finally we have conflict: the two awaken in the middle of the night to see that all the doors are suddenly open in the house, some still locked. To his credit, Lincoln does manage a few chills here and there, including the introduction of a bizarre mold, strange sounds, and a scene in which an adorable dog simply keels over. Of course, even that scene is ruined as the dog’s owner, a little girl, suddenly and randomly exclaims, “Your house killed my dog” and then is never heard from again.

Unfortunately, as the horror heightens and stranger and more terrifying events start to unfold, melodrama, rather than the spirit, seems to manifest more certainly.  After Kelly discovers the footage of Ben and his colleagues Patrick (Tom Felton) and Lydia during their ill-fated experiment, she manages to shut down completely in a tempest of hurt and betrayal.  She milks this ad nauseum, almost distracting from that fact that a malicious being is trying to kill them.

Of course, this might have been the intention all along since what is actually happening on screen is an utter mystery, veiled in catch phrases and screams.  When things become unbearable, Patrick is finally introduced, and he may be more confused than audiences.  His solution, apparently additional amplification coupled with playing the experiment tape backwards, is implemented despite it making no sense at all.

But in a sense, it doesn’t really matter.  Each scene betrays the very simple formula in this bore-fest: quasi-terrifying encounter with the specter followed by incomprehensible scientific explanation followed by cautious calm and then repeat.  Like listening to “Call Me Maybe” on loop, this strategy should come with warnings of severe melancholy and chronic diarrhea.

The acting in the film ranges from scarcely passible to catastrophic.  Stan and Felton do their best to escape the dialogue snares the screenwriters scattered across the miserable script, although just barely.  Of course, despite these efforts, they never quite make anyone believe they actually want to be there, or frankly know why they are there in the first place.

Greene, however, delivers a completely unacceptable performance.  Every muffled scream, every forced tear, every crackled plea is worse than the last; while there might not be much to think of in the Twilight series writing, this is just a whole new level of scenery chomping that may be one of the most cringe-inducing performances of the year.

The resolution of the film, despite the relatively short length of the movie overall, somehow felt like it might never come.  But even though an ending, any ending, would be welcome, Lincoln and team manage to spoil any good-will simply ending the film abruptly may have garnered by constructing a conclusion that is not only bad, it is somewhat confusing. But this should come as no surprise.

In the end, The Apparition was a film that squandered any opportunity it might have had by missing in pretty much every possible way.  A poorly constructed script, weak direction overall (although a few good moments interspersed), and a cast that looked like they wanted to be anywhere else all conspired to make this film an utter waste of time.   And in a world where time is money…that may be the scariest thing about this film.

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards

The Innkeepers: A Confusing, Messy, Boring Story We Have Already Seen

Director Ti West (Cabin Fever 2, House of the Devil) has managed to keep, in his latest film The Innkeepers, his unbroken streak alive of directing forgettable, messy horror flicks that leave audiences more annoyed than afraid.  In his latest film, what might have been a creepy, calculated thriller turns into a confusing, cliché-fest that completely degrades the cast.

Premise: During the final days at the Yankee Pedlar Inn, two employees delve into the hotel’s haunted past. Result: The only supernatural element here is the déjà-vu sensation of “Yup, I’ve seen this a few times before and didn’t like it then either.”

The Innkeepers opens with a simple premise: an old hotel, The Yankee Pedlar, is closing its doors after one last weekend.  Innkeepers Claire (Sara Paxton) and Luke (Pat Healy) are charged with staying the weekend and ensuring that the hotel does not fall into ruin before it is thrown head first into ruin the following week.  The hotel is basically empty, with only an annoying woman (and her son) and a washed up actress, Leanne Reese-Jones (Kelly McGillis), who is speaking at a healer’s conference in a neighboring town.

Of course, Claire and Luke have other plans than to simply waste away all weekend.  Urged by Luke’s unsubstantiated claims that the Yankee Pedlar is haunted, they begin some paranormal investigations.  The beginning of this film moves excruciatingly slow, attempting to establish the characters and create an air of plausibility. While West does a good job of creating a creepy atmosphere in the bizarre surroundings, further enhanced by the emptiness of the space, little more seems to come to his aid.

As the plot staggers on, drunk on the loneliness of the hotel and some minor creepy noises Claire seems to hear, it becomes more and more unlikely that the film will have any sort of payoff.  Here, West pulls in some clutch moves that he evidently believes have had some impact in the millions of other films where they have also been attempted. For instance, Claire begins using the paranormal detection equipment, which, of course, amplifies the eerie sounds.  She also has a run in with Reese-Jones, her supposed acting idol, who uses a crystal to detect the energy of the hotel and some ominous future events.

Sadly, West is never able to get the film out of a proverbial nose-dive: Reese-Jones comes off as a low-grade street gypsy with all the powers her endless supply of mini-vodkas will provide her. Claire and Luke come off as two wandering children with no direction in life who find more irrational ways to act as each scene develops and terrorize the few guests they have by forever being out of towels (yes, this is brought up multiple times!). 

And West perhaps is most guilty; like a cinematic clown car, he manages to cram every tired horror element into one film: a medium, a creepy basement, a sinister old man, a “terrible thing happened” that no one can explain, eerie creaking, spine-chilling piano playing, a lonely hotel…and the list marches ever onward.  But the result of all this pile on isn’t an interesting, fresh, frightening film but instead a suffocating, time-suck that leaves as much confusion as it does irritation.

There is little impact to the acting here, despite the fact that Paxton, Healy and McGillis are all accomplished actors.  They do their best to try to make this film believable: feigning confusion, flubbing lines like a frightened person might, trying desperately to make everything seem unpolished and by doing so, more real.  But no matter what efforts they may make, the film gives them no room to be interesting and ultimately no reason for audiences to watch.

In the end, the resolution to the film manages to heighten the creepiness to an uncomfortable level, which should give filmgoers at least a moment’s respite from the agonizing boredom, but it is certainly too little too late.  Additionally, it isn’t long before observers will realize that nothing in this finale was really explained, or worse, understandable.  There is the supposed tie-in of several strange elements but they hardly make sense when all jumbled together. Instead, something just happens on screen that like some horror version of The Mysteries of Harris Burdick requires audiences to exert all the creative effort to create their own story. Sadly, by that point, it is unlikely anyone will want to waste the time. 

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards

Haywire: Was Anyone Even Trying to Make This a Good Movie?? Seriously?

Haywire, the latest film by acclaimed director Steven Soderbergh (Traffic, Oceans Eleven), had all the makings of something most audiences would be interested in watching: a proven spy thriller formula with an all-star cast and seasoned director. However, all of these fell to the wayside rather quickly as Haywire spirals completely out of control becoming an unwatchable disaster almost immediately.

Premise: A black ops agent seeks revenge after she is betrayed during a mission. Result: A Choppy, messy, tired film that often delivers the inexplicably grainy, blurry quality of a camcorder from the mid-80s, cheapening an already poor film.

The introduction of this film showed some promise: an intriguing battle between runaway agent Mallory (Gina Carano) and fellow agent Aaron (Channing Tatum) -who had been sent to collect her- provides an interesting and exhilarating few moments for audiences as we are seduced by the destructive power on screen. Moments later, observers will look on in horror as a veritable gab-fest devolves on screen, with Mallory ostensibly chatting with her hostage sounding more akin to a lover’s spat.

Mallory (why is she called Mallory??) then decides to tell her hostage, Scott (Michael Angarano), the full story to that point (for no apparent reason) and the film becomes a series of confusing, globe-trotting flashbacks. First, there is a job to be done in Barcelona for client Rodrigo (Antonio Banderas), where Mallory and her team rescue Jiang and hand him to the appropriate care-takers. Subsequently, we find out that her boss and former lover Kenneth (Ewan McGregor) has a conversation with client Coblenez (Michael Douglas) who requests Mallory (despite the fact that we are in Mallory’s retelling of the story and she was not actually present at this conversation, Soderbergh shows it to us anyway, as another example of the awkward breaking of reality and continuity throughout the film.)

It is here that Mallory is set up on a job in Dublin with supposed British MI-6 agent Paul (Michael Fassbender) who is meant to carry out the Kenneth betrayal and terminate her.  Of course, Mallory turns the tables and we have a chase on our hands.  The remainder of the film is based on Mallory stalking Kenneth and his accomplices. Here the plot itself is not as poor as it is rushed and tired.  All aspects of the story stumble onto the screen clumsily, often laughably, with choppy scene settings and rushed plot devices that question if too much made it on the editing room floor.

The fight scenes themselves, one of the hallmarks of contemporary spy films, are also delivered with an amateurish haze as to take away from their impact almost completely.  Like an Occidental Kung Fu film, the storyline seems only to serve as waiting time in between the numerous battle sequences, each of which is delivered in that same, hackneyed, ungainly style that harkens more to a YouTube video of Jackass imitators.

Then there are simply moments that boggle the mind: Mallory’s chase scene on the beach is laugh-out-loud ridiculous, where her victim is standing on the beach and without warning, she comes running along endlessly like a cartoon character.  And there is a scene with a deer that is so sudden and preposterous as to make audiences with weaker bladders thankful for their latest batch of adult diapers.

Worse still are the cinematography and music.  The former is grainy, blurry, and often distracts from the story.  It casts a solid shadow of doubt on the quality of the film itself; whether intentional or not, the result is a lesson for how not to develop a film.  Then the soundtrack spills onto these already bungled scenes and finishes the task of absolutely ruining anything this film was seriously trying to accomplish.  Like a twisted, carnival version of D-grade porn music, the soundtrack is abhorrent, making each scene into a silly, pointless farce filmgoers will recall not from other trips to the cinema, but the 3am low-budget picture meant as filler in between the faux-Native American jewelry vendors and the woman making salsa with her coveted Magic Bullet^®.

The acting in this film does no one any favors. Carano seems to play two roles in this film: passable, mildly-bad-ass Mallory and completely unwatchable Mallory with all the delivery of a Digiorno. She fades in and out of acceptable across scenes, often succumbing to the poor dialogue she is fed. McGregor fares better, but his character is so absurd that interest is lost early on.  Fassbender is good but short-lived; Douglas’ role is dull and seems outside his range; and Banderas’ role could have been replaced by any number of scruffy Latino/Spanish men with equal impact. Tatum is also rather flat in this film, but fortunately mediocre was the color of the day so it is hardly noticeable.

The film’s resolution, which is both predictable and clichéd, is further muted by the disaster that is the rest of the film. This is even more troublesome for an already beleaguered Haywire since the film seems to rest on the resolution as the final essential twist that will leave audiences buzzing; instead, not only was it obvious, but Soderbergh chose to go with the least interesting of all possibilities.  However, in a film like Haywire, even this poor choice was not much of a surprise.

Overall, Haywire misses the mark completely, delivering a sad, unseemly product that reminds us that experiments sometimes go terribly wrong. 

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards

The Devil Inside: We’ve Seen This All Before Coupled with Eh, I Coulda Spent That Time Sleeping

Director William Brent Bell has successfully slapped together a film that takes on several tired premises with almost zero payoff.  Grafting a faux documentary film about Exorcism, of all things, Bell might have done well to do something new considering the main tenets of the film had already been attempted ad nauseum; instead, The Devil Inside regurgitates many plotlines and antics from its predecessors and manages to do them poorly, making for a dull, pointless mess with little in the way of redemption.    

Premise: On a mission to discover the truth about what happened to her mother, a woman participates in a failed documentary in Italy and gets more than she bargained for. Result: A dull film that does nothing to advance the mythos of Exorcism; if anything it may set it back.

The film begins with some promise, as audio is played of a 911 call in which a creepy woman basically confesses to murdering three people.  We then have footage taken at the scene that adds chills to an already tense environment.  The woman, it turns out, is Maria Rossi (Suzan Crowley) and she is taken away by the police, clearly out of her mind.  This introduction was actually interesting and well done, and despite grainy 1980s vintage footage, is really the only segment worth recalling.

We are then thrust to present day, where we find Maria’s daughter Isabella (Fernanda Andrade) who has agreed to help film a documentary with amateur documentarian Michael Schaefer (Ionut Grama) about what really happened to her mother.  It appears that after years of thinking her mom was just some whack-job, her Father randomly decides to come clean and admit that the murders occurred during a failed Exorcism.  And, in what soon becomes signature to the film, a pointless detail meant for blatant eerie effect is thrown into the mix and never explored: after revealing the truth, her father dies soon after.  <Insert collective eye roll here>

Isabella then decides to take a trip to Rome to see her Mother and find out the “truth”, whatever that may be.  It is this trip that serves as the crux of the film, and also where everything goes completely haywire. She goes to visit her mother under the impression that the Vatican has been lying to her all these years, yet somehow manages to get permission to bring cameras into the hospital (otherwise not allowed).  Further, her doctor appears to know nothing about Maria’s case beyond the talking points given to him by “The Church”. 

For her part in this farce, Isabella manages to coinsure all sorts of suppressed emotions, suddenly desperate to know about her mother, despite decades of apparent disinterest. And Maria, looking like the poster child for split ends and insomnia, manages to utter creepy but pointless catch phrases (several virtually inaudible) like “Connect the Cuts” that don’t seem to mean anything.  But she does manage to get in a few loud screams meant to unnerve the audience (frankly, she might as well have yelled, “Boo!” for all its lasting impact.)

Isabella then attends a Vatican class on Exorcism just in time to hear mention of the principle of “transference” in one of the most blatant cases of foreshadowing ever. She does meet two rogue priests who apparently perform Exorcisms without the Church’s consent.  Not only do they help her in her quest, they happen to add as much anti-Church propaganda to the documentary as is possible.

There is constant bickering into the cameras reminiscent of cheesy reality TV, where everyone’s motives are questioned and each character behaves more and more irrationally. Father Ben Rawlings (Simon Quarterman) is bent on bringing the Church back into the fight against Demons at whatever the cost; Father David Keane (Evan Helmuth) wishes only to help people and be a good priest despite risking excommunication, bless his heart; Isabella constantly squawks about her “need to know” ; and for some unclear reason, everyone just seems to hate Michael, who himself becomes unstable.

While the scenes in which Isabella participates in Exorcisms are actually intriguing, the unexpected success of these precious few moments is quickly overshadowed by the poor dialogue and even more horrific delivery after the fact.  The words that the characters utter are cringe-inducing and delivered in such a way that make one wonder if the actors could have been worse if they tried.  Essentially, the poor performances fall in one of two camps: either the delivery is objectively awful, spewed without sense or the dialogue is just so cliché or poorly constructed as to bind the actors completely, making them look ridiculous.

Essentially, Bell directs the film with a sense of meta-narrative, always making sure to have participants point out camera issues or novice errors to try to make the film seem more real.  Isabella often points out how she keeps forgetting not to look into the camera or characters will deliver just enough in their testimonials to ensure that everyone knows how trying it all is and therefore justifying the absurd choices they make. The screenplay is basically one page scary content to one hundred pages of fluff written by a middle-schooler who insists on plagiarizing every other film on the subject. 

Ultimately, this The Devil Inside fails to capitalize on the few moments it gets right, squandering these opportunities mercilessly, drowning audience interest beneath a shallow pool of failed imitation.  Sadly, the only terrifying part of this film is the prospect of watching it again.

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards

 

Immortals: Thankfully, at least the Movie Had an End!

From time to time a film comes along, modest and unassuming that manages to excite, entertain and ultimately move its audience; the type of genuine film that surprises observers and brings back hope that future films may succeed in similar ways.

Immortals does none of these things.  Instead, audiences can expect this film to rob them of at least the two hour length of the film (and possibly up to years of their lives), the money they paid earnestly, and some self-respect.  In fact, the film might best be broken down in this way:

Reason to see Immortals:

1. Stunningly attractive people everywhere
2. 1-2 minor fight sequences

Reason not to see Immortals:

1. Every other reason

Premise: Theseus is chosen by Zeus to lead the fight against the ruthless King Hyperion, who is on a rampage across Greece to release the Titans and destroy humanity. Result: An often incoherent cliché-fest that is almost as boring as it is ridiculous.

There is surprisingly little that goes right in this film.  While it was heavily touted as coming from the Producers of 300, this is shockingly misleading.  The two share some qualities, like they both take place in Greece-ish, they are both films, they both have a start and end.  However, any further analysis will likely compare the two films like Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger in the classic film Twins – I will let you figure out which is which.

Ultimately, it is unclear what Director Tarsem Singh (The Fall, The Cell) or writers Charley Parlapanides and Vlas Parlapanides were thinking, their strategy as obscured as a darkened prison deep in the Earth (coincidentally, where most audiences will feel they were sent for at least 109/110 minutes of the film.) The story, based on Theseus, is completely manufactured by the film’s creative team and goes absolutely nowhere. 

While there is certainly a plot, namely that King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) wishes to free the Titans, long imprisoned, in an effort to punish the Gods for not saving his wife and children from some plague (snooze), it is desperately cliché.  Further, it is Theseus (Henry Cavill) -a random commoner with the favor of Zeus (for no real reason) who has certain powers such as being an unstoppable fighting machine and having cheese-grating worthy abs – who is responsible for stopping him.

As this central plot progresses, audiences will be assaulted with every discernable Direction error known to man.  While the cinematography is familiar, here it comes off as cheap rather than stunning.  There are many scenes that allow the camera to capture vast expanses with subtle uses of shadows and light that are meant to strike awe, but instead look painfully staged (it might only have gotten worse if the actors actually posed for the camera, which I actually think  Kellan Lutz as Poseiden did once or twice.)

Things literally just seem to happen on screen, like cinematic chaos.  Hyperion essentially destroys most of Greece in search of a magic bow capable of releasing the Titans while the gods watch (Zeus has faith in Theseus and so no gods may help him.) Hyperion is drawn as a caricature of evil, torturing everyone in his path with castration via hammer or an iron bull that cooks them alive.  As he destroys the land he massacres all, including Thesus’ mother, evoking a familiar blood-thirsty revenge.

Hyperion captures Theseus and enslaves him, forcing him to work in the salt mines where he is conveniently imprisoned with the Virgin Oracles, the most important of which is Phaedra (Freida Pinto), who also conveniently trips over Theseus (literally) and knows he is “special.”  Filmed on what appears to be a room shared with the CBS show Big Brother, the gorgeous bodies are literally lounging around everywhere by a crystal clear pool like a Calvin Klein ad gone terribly (and somehow wonderfully) wrong.  Here, also, we are introduced to Stavros (Stephen Dorff), the thief who acts as our comic relief (assuming comic here means “unfunny”) and ultimately helps hatch the plot which has them escape. 

Ultimately, the film meanders further and all the obvious tick-boxes are checked in short order: bow is found (check), anti-climactic minotaur-like man fight scene (check), sex scene (check), awful Braveheart-esque speech (check), epic battle sequences (check.)  While admittedly, the final fight sequences were entertaining (especially the battles between the Titans and gods), it is much too little too late, and the final scenes play out in a severe, anti-climactic spiral.

What may be the most devastating blow to this film is the dialogue and its subsequent affect on the acting.  While Cavill, Rourke, Pinto and John Hurt are passable in their roles, the script does them no favors: Rourke, in particular, is completely misused – rather than allow him to create terror through the silent brooding he has perfected, he is found pontificating at every turn, filling the awkward silences with speech after pointless speech ad nauseum. 

Dorff, for his part, is strangled by his hackneyed lines and unnecessary role, coming off like a confused side-kick (but fortunately, still easy on the eyes.)  Luke Evans as Zeus is disappointing but mainly because his actions make little to no sense, distracting from his talent. The rest, however, are dreadful, coming off as a painful elementary school Thanksgiving Day pageant.

Ultimately, Immortals is a very poor film, struggling to keep coherence, and plugging up the plot holes with beautiful bodies and some inconsistently attractive visuals.  Ehile no one can deny hot people being hot is a wonderful, wonderful thing, this film is best left for a rainy afternoon hangover, where observers might just believe it is their physical pain, and not the film, that has thrust them in and out of consciousness.

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards

Transformers – Dark of the Moon: More Like the Dark Side of Filmmaking

After the debacle of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, it was much rumored that the third installment of the Transformers’ franchise would bring the series back to the solid footing of forgettable mediocrity the first film had so effortlessly found.   Instead, wayward director Michael Bay (both previous Transformers films) produces what can only be described as a classic entry to the pantheon of Mystery Science 3000, falling so far off the mark as to become unbearable and laughable simultaneously before the first half hour is reached.  The film, incidentally, is far over two hours in length, a fact audiences will not soon forget.

Premise: The Autobots learn of a Cybertronian spacecraft hidden on the Moon, but soon more is revealed than meets the eye. Result: A mediocre action film that is dragged into the dregs of filmmaking by its inability to make the human half of the film work.

Dark of the Moon is nothing more than a shocking Frankenstein Monster of film theme, concept and editing, clumsily crafting the delivery of incongruous scenes and tone.  This movie tries to be about aliens, government bureaucracy, parent issues, girlfriend issues, monsters, defying the laws of physics, military intrigue, chronic Millennial unemployment, creepy bosses…the list goes on and on and on.  While films that tackle complexity often illicit praise, this is a perfect example of quantity outperforming quality.

 The opening scenes depict the initial space race as nothing more than a race to the moon to discover a crash from an alien planet.  There is a Forrest Gump element to Bay’s attempt to graft scenes from every President to ever have talked about the moon and it all comes off a bit cliché. The CGI of JFK is particularly terrible, looking like a paint-by- number on the screen.

However, despite the cliché, at least there is some excitement to this storyline (albeit briefly.) Suddenly, there is a stretch of film that can only be described as a complete war on filmmaking: the first salvo is fired with the revelation that Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) is both severely unemployed and severely oversexed by his latest super model girlfriend, Carly Spencer, aka “not Meghan Fox”  (played by Rosie Huntington-Whiteley). Introduce the two mini-autobots who are apparently hanging around like pets along with Sam’s parents who happen to drop by in their Winnebago and park in what appears to be a Chicago alley, and we have a routine that crashes completely into the side of the mountain.  

The dialogue and chemistry are so campy and so off in these following scenes as to stir memories of the ill-fated comedy Chernobyl Bonnie (mid-90s, starring Bonnie Hunt) which was so lacking in on-screen connection as to illicit Ebola-like symptoms from audiences. It seems Bay will do anything for a cheap laugh, and teamed with screenwriter Ehren Kruger, the laughs keep rolling someplace else completely.  

Instead, audiences are left to wonder if Bay has been possessed by infamous director Ed Wood, and we are a left to gaze in horror at what appear to be footage from a film shot in one take.  There seems to be no attention paid to what characters are actually doing in these scenes: their voices fade in and out, their interactions mechanical and clumsy, and the delivery of lines are made with indifference. The entire sequence is endless and painful, inserted as the after-thought human element of a film about Transformers.

From a plot standpoint, it appears that there has been an unwitting discovery of mythical pillars from Cybertron and their great controller Sentinel Prime (voiced by Leonard Nimoy, in a moment of pure geek enjoyment) who crashed onto the Moon decades earlier. Only Optimus can resurrect Sentinel and does so, uniting two forces from long ago.  

What happens next is a mixed bag of interesting intrigue and hapless execution.  On the one hand, there is a fairly clever twist in the plot which combined with Bay’s proven-brand of over-the-top action sequences should thoroughly entice audiences and lift enjoyment from the basement floor. Bay plays his hand quite nicely, summoning the cool action sequence card from his paltry deck of film strategy, and blows audiences away with intriguing visual effects.  

The latter half of the film is a gigantic battle sequence set as the Decepticons launch a full invasion of Chicago in an attempt to bring Cybertron to Earth.  While the concept of bringing a planet the size of Jupiter into Earth’s orbit would likely cause far greater problems than the Decepticons, the attention is rightly placed on tremendous fight sequences.  Overall, this plot is enjoyable for what it is, although it ends up going too far becoming an endless and often unintelligible action bonanza with minimal payoff. Nevertheless, action is the point of the film, so we can work with that. 

On the other hand, there is still the pesky issue of the human-interest, which is still a painful mess on screen. John Malkovich is briefly introduced as Sam’s maniacal boss Bruce Brazos whose role is utter nonsense and noticeably unnecessary; then Ken Jeong has a relatively brief cameo as scientist Jerry Wang, a Decepticon informant, who is relevant only to bring on not-needed comedy elements held-over clumsily from his role in The Hangover – otherwise, these scenes could have been removed completely as well. And Sam’s parents are still subjected to an endless Abbott and Costello routine that gets exceedingly difficult to stomach as the story goes on. 

Worse still, are the characters that should be relevant: Sam fights with his girlfriend, because she fears losing him, like she lost her Brother, an emotional element thrown in randomly with a flash to a picture that seems painfully formulaic, although sadly no more so than the roles of Dylan (Patrick Dempsey) and Mearing (Frances McDormand).  Dylan is simply the collaborator to the Decepticons who can’t help but betray humanity becaue he has to meet client obligations; his character ebbs and flows from evil villain a whiney school child depending on which scene it is.  

Then there is Mearning, whose role is to be the tough head of the NSA who can’t help but make bad, near-sighted decisions that only make things worse and satisfy our collective belief that people in government have no idea what is going on.  Worse still is the reintroduction of Simmons (John Turturro) who has now turned into an off-the-wall court Jester with a  strange gay German sidekick Dutch (Alan Tudyk) takes the film to an entirely new level of ridiculous. His scenes amount to a jittery Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter without the point or charisma.

In the end, Dark of the Moon is the worst of the three films.  While ultimately it is meant to be a film about Transformers, it is lost in a sea of bad acting, inane dialogue and cringe-inducing plot devices.  While there are a few fun moments, Dark of the Moon never connects rather exposing Bay’s weakness as a director whose entire strategy rests on big explosions and stunning visuals; unfortunately, in this film, there just isn’t much bang for the buck.

Rating: 3 – Mad Dog 20/20, Government Cheese, and a waste basket for afterwards