WIRED MAGAZINE: 16.07

Dark Knight Director Shuns Digital Effects for the Real Thing

By Scott Brown 06.23.08

3-D Typography: PIC Agency

The Bat-plan was simple: Base-jump off one Hong Kong skyscraper, smash through the window of another, grab the Chinese crime boss, then hitch a drag chute to a passing C-130 cargo plane for a daring aerial escape. And on to Gotham! An instant, no-fuss extradition in the best tradition of American vigilantism. Just another working day for Batman and, presumably, just another feat of digital wizardry for the visual effects team. Except for one thing: Christopher Nolan, director of The Dark Knight, wanted to do it for real. (more…)

** [TWO STARS, Opening May 30th Nationwide]

WAJAHAT ALI

Driving to the “Sex and the City: The Movie” premiere, I felt like Morgan Spurlock, the director of “Super Size Me” who foolishly consumed fast food for 30 days; a man voluntarily condemning himself to masochistic pain for sake of a cultural experiment. Even before entering, the publicity coordinator, who knows me and the other frequent movie critics, said, “Dude, you’re like one of 6 guys in the entire movie theatre.”

“Fantastic,” I replied sarcastically. Upon entering the theater and surveying the audience, I realized he was incorrect. I was one of the 21 men out of the 250 highly giddy and anxious women. The air brimmed with suffocating excitable estrogen. As a heterosexual dude, I felt outnumbered, out gunned, and - like a midget on a NBA basketball court – displaced.

I was flabbergasted by what I witnessed: an entire audience of women representing every age, color, ethnicity and financial status behaving like 12 year old girls before a NSYNC concert. Some women dressed up like they were attending the opening of a San Francisco club – dressed to the nines and sporting “do me” heels. I overheard the following comments: “I am prepared for awesomeness!” “I feel exquisite right now!” “Oh, my god! I can’t wait for my girls!” (more…)

Wajahat Ali

**1/2 (Two and a Half Stars)

“How much of human life is lost in wait,” muses a character towards the end of the highly anticipated, twenty years in the making Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Although I lack the wisdom to answer the philosophical question, after watching the premiere of the sequel, however, I can say much of the original wit and frenetic energy of the series is lost in a muddled and confused screenplay.

Before you hurl violent and colorful language in my direction, please note this humble reviewer can confidently recommend the movie as an overall enjoyable and rather entertaining, if disappointing, successor to one of the most beloved adventure series in modern cinema.

A movie like Indiana Jones cannot be judged by any ordinary critical standard precisely due to its immensely influential and universally beloved cultural status as an apex of escapsist entertainment. Who doesn’t recognize Harrison Ford in that famous fedora cracking his whip while outrunning nefarious Nazis? Who can’t hum John Williams’ catchy theme? Who hasn’t seen at least one of the three Indy movies? Precisely due to the twenty year anticipation and the elevated benchmark of Raiders of the Lost Arc, a new Indiana Jones movie has to be more than a simple National Treasure or Mummy retread.

George Lucas, wisely learning from his Stars Wars prequels, urged all to “lower their expectations” and to remember that Indy Jones is “just a movie.” Audiences would be prudent to heed his wisdom.

Rest assured, however, that the main attraction, Harrison Ford, fits as comfortably in the title role as he did nearly 20 years ago. Ford’s charisma, which audiences haven’t seen in nearly ten years due to his disastrous film choices, dominates the movie and makes you forgive the laborious and disjointed screenplay by David Koepp. From the moment he appears on screen (within the first 3 minutes), the filmmakers remind you even though the man has aged, he still retains his wry athleticism and surly, wise-ass barbs.

The plot involves some ridiculous mumbo jumbo about returning a rare and powerful “crystal skull,” which may or may not have alien origins, to its “rightful” place comfortably hidden in an exotic and perilous Peru jungle. Too bad that the script feels it necessary to spend painfully long stretches of screen time on dull and convoluted narrative exposition that simply forces characters to explain ridiculous plot mechanics that the audience neither understands nor cares about. Furthermore, Koepp’s screenplays unsuccessfully attempts to stitch together different genres, tones and moods, but is unable to unite them elegantly under a unified theme or coherent narrative. Each Indiana Jones movie has some sort of a central dramatic arc: the first one was anchored by the Indiana Jones-Marion Riverwood relationship in thwarting “evil,” the second had Indy selflessly liberating innocent slave children from a tyrannical Kali-cult, and the third stressed reconciliation between father and son.

The new one appears to stress a “return” to one’s true passions and roots, a full circle allowing Indy to learn from his past mistakes (certain unrequited “romantic” choices and family legacies) and embrace that reckless curiousity and daredevil adventurism of his youth. Unfortunately, these themes take far too long to emerge in a truly invigorating and exciting fashion. Indy Jones movies are beloved precisely because they move; they are relentless in their energy, irregardless of the inanity of the logic, plot or dialogue. You forgive the garish cariacatures and violence of Temple of Doom mainly because you’re fascinated by the sheer audacity and lunacy of the proceedings. You forgive the tongue in cheek “jokey” tone of The Last Crusade because of the wonderful chemistry and sense of fun developed by Sean Connery and Harrison Ford. Boredom and stasis are absolutely unforgivable in any Indy Jones picture.

About an hour into the movie I actually wrote down “boring” during another dull, exposition patch where nothing happens, and what does happen lacks any sense of urgency, danger or excitement: it reminded me of scenes from the perfunctory Da Vinci Code.

The first hour and twenty minutes of the movie are hodgebodge and, dare I say, intermittently dull. Shia Lebouf’s introduction as Mutt at least introduces a sparkle of energy in the entire proceedings. His youth and arrogance is a foil for the elder Ford to get in some great cantankerous rants and quips. Thankfully, the introduction of another character (you should have guessed it by the ads) finally establishes the tone and relationships in the movie as a sort of “Indy Jones Family Adventure.” From that point onward, the last 40 minutes are an injection of old school Spielbergian cinematics highlighted by an excellent, but at times too hokey and CGI dependent, jeep chase sequence. We also meet voracious, killer red ants, a giant snake, fencing heroes atop of CGI jeeps, an obligatory Indy fist fight sequence, and a rather silly and protracted ending which reveals the origins of the mysterious Crystal Skull.

If it seems I’m too harsh on the movie it’s because I love my Indiana Jones movies. I’ve seen all of them nearly a dozen times. I have fond memories of being horrified and fascinated by monkey brains when I was 4, and I recall dragging my uncle to the Last Crusade when I was 9. To this day, Raiders remains one of the best and perfectly executed examples of the action adventure genre with all principles hitting key notes. I just wish the screenplay would’ve been given another two or three edits to streamline the unnecessarily complicated and dull plot, amp up the tension, and create a more unified vision and theme.

As it stands, this is the weakest entry of the series. That being said, it’s a thrill to see Ford coming back to his signature character. Despite the film’s glaring problems, you can’t help but feel giddy knowing you’ve revisted one of cinema’s most beloved icons.

TWO AND A HALF STARS. [Enjoyable but disappointing]

Stop-Loss: In the United States Military , it is the involuntary extension of a service member’s enlistment contract in order to retain them beyond the normal end term of service.

The new MTV-produced movie Stop-Loss directed by Kimberley Peirce (Boys Don’t Cry) could also be called “Deer Hunter” for the Generation-Y, post internet, digi-cam crowd. Following a string of commercially unsuccessful yet underrated “Iraq war” movies such as In the Valley of Elah, Rendition, Redacted, Lions for Lambs, and Home of the Brave, Peirce and company hope young, handsome actors accompanied by a contemporary soundtrack will entice the jaded, war weary audience dollar. Unlike some previous titles, Peirce’s film manages to construct incisive and human character studies of Texan soldiers suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in this powerful albeit maddeningly inconsistent movie.

Literally, the title “Stop-Loss” refers to the Military’s contractual policy allowing the government to retain soldiers beyond their contractual obligations per the orders of the President. John Kerry, along with many critics, refers to the policy as a “back door draft” unfairly forcing unwilling soldiers back to the maddening theater of war due to low enrollment rates and sparse combat units. The movie portrays the devastating effects of the policy on U.S. Staff Sergeant Brandon King (Ryan Phillipe), his best friends and fellow soldiers Steve (Channing Tatum) and Tommy (Joseph Gordon Levitt) and their Texan community.

Figuratively, the title “Stop-Loss” refers to what happens when soldiers abruptly return home for a brief “leave” after witnessing the harrowing carnage of the Iraq war. When the soldiers “stop” and relax outside the chaotic theater of war, the downtime reminds them of oppressive, terrifying memories of “loss,” death, carnage, guilt and remorse. The brutal, unrelenting pulse of war when juxtaposed to the idyllic calm of normalcy exposes inner demons and frustrations far more painful than bullet wounds and facial scars.

Before we are formally introduced to the characters, the movie offers us one of many “digi-cam” montages, a pastiche of homemade movies shot by our protagonists documenting their daily life in Iraq on cell phones and digital video cams uploaded on to the net with a overbearing rock-metal soundtrack.

After the montage, we see our soldiers manning a “security checkpoint” in Tikrit, Iraq. They unwittingly follow a highly armed insurgent vehicle, which bypasses the security measures, straight into an inner city ambush. “The Hadjis” fire from the rooftops, behind cars, inside alleyways and even from windows of second story buildings. Brandon’s unit suffers heavy causalities as best friends die suddenly, others are wounded and disfigured, and the rest forever bear the torment of a vivid, guilty memory. The sequence, unlike the one in the simplistic and racist Kingdom, neither glorifies nor exploits as it documents the combat without a soundtrack and gratuitous, pulse pounding beats. The first ten minutes color the characters’ psychology for the rest of the movie.

The first half of the movie, its strongest, chronicle the soldiers’ return to their hometown in Texas where they are met with a parade and a grateful throng of family and friends. Peirce, like she did with Boys Don’t Cry, works her best when tightly focusing her microscope on the day to day lives and behaviors of small town folk confronted with horrors beyond their comprehension [In Boys, Peirce quite effectively portrayed a vicious hate crime against transgendered teen "Brandon" Teena born Teena Brandon.] The movie unfortunately loses its narrative engine and thematic focus in the maddeningly inconsistent second half when Brandon, having just learned he is stop-lossed, goes AWOL and drives cross country for Washington D.C. with his best friend’s finance [Played realistically and without pretension by talented newcomer Abbie Cornish] to plead his case with a Texan Senator.

Tommy, played with a brilliant understatement by Joseph Gordon Levitt, on the other hand conceals his conflict with alcohol and flashes of anger at having failed to save his best friend in Iraq. When a well intentioned man naively asks his wife for a dance at the community festival, Tommy - having just discussed his desire to go back to Iraq and kick “Hadji ass” - explodes with fisti-cuffs. Brandon’s best friend Steve, preparing for “marriage with the Army” according to his fiance, digs a man hole trench on his front lawn drunkenly thinking he is back in Iraq.

After Brandon’s AWOL, the movie from this point onward, until about the last 15 minutes, meanders with plot contrivances and forced situations prompting unnatural character reactions. Brandon, played well by Ryan Phillipe, brutally attacks a group of muggers who, conveniently, break into his car and steal valuables. Mistaking them for “Hadjis,” Brandon forces them to sit execution style as his tortured mind takes him back to Iraq, blending reality with distorted PTS-memory. He also quite fortuitously and again, conveniently, bumps into another AWOL, Stop-Lossed family describing the hellish consequences of living “on the run:” one of the few options for those that ignore the policy and abandon their return to duty.

The last 15 minutes, in which Brandon returns home due to an inevitable and foreseen tragedy, narrow the focus on the devastating effects the war has on the soldiers and their loved ones. If Peirce had only kept her camera trained on this piece of the narrative, the movie would be tighter and more emotionally resonant. The quiet, subtle moments expressing repressed rage and shame shine more vividly than the bombastic “confessional” scenes Ryan Phillipe has towards the end. For example, when Phillipe’s character is urged by his superior to do a “rah-rah-rah” recruitment speech in front of his community, he stumbles, stutters, and then simply recalls he could only remember how the smell of onions reminded him of home.

Small scenes like this humanize the suffering of these young men - boys really - forced to project a superficial, inflated and unrealistic “hyper-masculine” exterior masking all their internal pain. For those quick enough to spot it, Peirce intelligently places a “John Wayne” image in one of the montage sequences to comment on this society’s unhealthy projection of a fake and exaggerated notion of “masculinity,” in which remorse, sadness and tears are signs of weakness and cowardice. “John Wayne,” that celluloid vision of rugged, American manhood, was in reality a U.S. Navy reject who fell into films after his football career was destroyed due to a body surfing accident. [Yes, a body surfing accident.]

Movies like Stop-Loss, although not perfect by any means, can at least show a society that - indeed - boys and even men do cry; especially those serving our nation in Iraq.

STOP-LOSS (Playing nationwide) *** (Three Stars)

Wajahat Ali is Pakistani Muslim American who is neither a terrorist nor a saint. He is a playwright, essayist, humorist, and Attorney at Law, whose work, “The Domestic Crusaders,” (www.domesticcrusaders.com) is the first major play about Muslim Americans living in a post 9-11 America. His blog is at http://goatmilk.wordpress.com/. He can be reached at wajahatmali@gmail.com

10,000 B.C. (In theaters) 1.5 stars

Wajahat Ali

Movies like 10,000 B.C., directed by Roland Emmerich (Independence Day and Day After Tomorrow) assuage the hearts with the knowledge that even without a writer’s strike, movies this inane, ridiculous and stereotypical are still written and mass produced by Hollywood. Before the script was even finished, I’m sure the producers and studio heads convened and decided the following: Apocalypto + Gladiator + a dash of Spartacus + a topping of A Quest for Fire + $110 million = 10,000 B.C.

If you’re seeing this movie for any other reason than the CGI “money shots,” then surely your artistic and intellectual outlets need immediate and urgent reexamination.

Let’s discuss the “money shots” (The reason you all will see this movie) before we talk about “Why Hollywood is Crazy.”

Money Shots:

1. The Mammoth Hunt:” The first epic money shot depicts a right of passage for our protagonist D’Leh (Steven Strait of Sky High), the conflicted and prophesied “redeemer and savior” of the tribe who will emancipate them from bondage and shack up with the hottest girl, Evolet: the only blue eyed, White woman in the entire movie (That is an important plot point – I kid you not) whose future, yet undetermined partner - hmmmn I wonder who? - is destined to save the oppressed people. Do you think D’Leh is that man? Do you think D’Leh will save the tribe? Do you think D’Leh and Evolet will hook up? You don’t have to think of an answer – the movie tells you within the opening 5 minutes - nay, it “prophesizes” it. Back to the “Hunt:” whoever nabs the large, furry CGI animal will inherit the legendary “White Spear” and claim his honor as a mighty warrior. Who do you think bags the Mammoth? The integration of digitally created mammoths side by side with the actors probably represented the best and most costly use of the movie’s numerous special effects. A reviewer sitting next to me remarked, “They blew most their CGI budget in that shot.” And, he was right.

2. Ostrich-Raptor Attack:” While writing notes during this intellectually stimulating movie, the most profound challenge for me was deciding what to name the killer, CGI birds: “Ostrich-Raptors” or “Peacock Raptors?” The former won after a hard-fought and agonizing mental battle. Imagine the original Jurassic Park raptor attack scene, but replace those impressive, nearly 15 year old effects with mediocre, 21^st century violent ostriches living in the heart – of what seemed like – a South American Jungle. A gratuitous scene that pales in comparison in delivery, presentation and special effects to Spielberg’s 1992 movie. (The mammoths ate up the Ostriches’ budget.)

3. The Vegan Saber-toothed Tiger:” D’Leh, now on his journey to save his tribe who have been abducted by men on “four legged demons” (See: Arabs, Muslims and Darkies – more on that later), encounters the fabled “Spear-tooth,” a behemoth, awkwardly constructed CGI Saber-toothed Tiger. D’Leh, in a misplaced moment of benevolence, does what no sane human being would do: he frees the trapped Tiger, who for all intents and purposes should have turned around and eaten D’Leh like a tasty appetizer. The tiger stares down D’Leh, leaps away, only to return, for really no reason except to unsubtly reiterate a plot point, 5 minutes later in the “African desert” in a completely unrelated scene. The tiger circles D’Leh much to the shock of the African tribal folk, protecting D’Leh from the tribe’s initial hostile behaviors by bellowing a couple of growls, and then the Tiger disappears – for the entire movie. Why did the Tiger do this? One of the movie’s three minority “elders” immediately informs us that “he” who is protected by the “Spear-tooth” is prophesized to be the savior. There is also an “ancient” illustration on a large rock of a man who looks like D’Leh being protected by Spear-tooth that reminds the characters and the audience that verily this prophecy is now true! The two other minority elders are “Old Mother,” a stereotypical Mexican-Indian soothsayer with a large role in the movie, and the other one I’ll simply refer to as “ Random Blind Black Albino Man” who reiterates, for what must be the sixth time, that D’Leh is the destined savior of his people.

4. 300 – but with a happy ending – and more Mammoths.” The final money shot occurs at the ending of the movie where D’Leh, the Neanderthal Maximus, has managed to successfully lead a motley crew of UNICEF allies in a mass rebellion against the tyrannical despot, fake “god”, who sports 9 inch long nails and a screeching voice. The Mammoths, making a glorious CGI comeback, stampede against the “Axis of Evil” – the minions, aka Arabs, Middle Easterners and Darkies – allowing D’Leh and his United Nations crew ample time to stage their coup.

WHY HOLLYWOOD IS CRAZY

Movies like 10,000 B.C. reaffirm the fear and assumption of most non-White, European people that Hollywood’s casual, and most likely unintentional, panache for stereotypes and racist caricatures is alive and well. Before one dismisses this claim, let’s please review the evidence.

D’Leh, the protagonist of the movie and leader of the United Nations rebel army, is the Whitest, if not the only White male, member of the rebel squad. His most trusted advisor and trainer is Tic’Tic (Yes, that’s his name) played ably by Cliff Curtis, a fine New Zealand actor, who has the unenviable and burdened task of playing every minority in Hollywood. Curtis, a man of Maori descent, has so far played the following: Colombian (Collateral Damage), Arab (The Majestic), Shiaa Iraqi (Three Kings), and Cholo Latino Gangster (Training Day.) To Hollywood’s credit, they’ve also let Curtis play a New Zealander: Whale Rider and Piano.

Curtis plays the “Djimon Hounsou role,” (Blood Diamond, Gladiator, Amistad, The Island, Four Feathers) the token minority, but ultimate badass, who for all intents and purposes should be the lead due to his professed kick-assery, but nonetheless either sacrifices his life or considerable time and talents in assisting an inferior, inexperienced and far more mediocre, yet Whiter, protagonist.

The convenient mythology, religion, and metaphysical mumbo jumbo explaining the supernatural prophecies of the movie should be called “Plot-ology:” Hollywood’s ethnic religion of choice when depicting Native or indigenous (Or, one can even say “Eastern”) cultures. “Old Mother,” the tribe’s token elder, soothsayer, and “medium,” dances around mumbling random gibberish and every once in a while is overtaken by a “vision” of the future. She predicts the entire movie in the first 5 minutes. The movie, randomly and inexplicably, cuts back to “Old Mother,” one of the few people who escaped the war lord’s attack, staring comatose into the camera experiencing D’Leh’s torments. D’Leh, by now, is thousands of miles away on his journey towards freeing his people. When D’Leh freezes in the mountains, the movie cuts to “Old Mother,” sitting comfortably thousands of miles away, also freezing and so forth. Her “gift’ is used as a redeeming plot point at the end that won’t be revealed in this review.

The United Nations allies all consist of dark skinned, either Black or Brown, ethnic warriors who unite under D’Leh’s none too charismatic, but reliably White-skinned leadership. In order to cover up the script’s inability to provide D’Leh with memorable dialogue or rousing characteristic traits that would naturally inspire men of different tribes and faiths to follow him into battle, the movie conveniently and repeatedly reminds us that D’Leh is the “prophesied” one – so they must follow him: D’uh!

The major villains of the movie consist of the Emperor “god” (The one with 9 inch long finger nails living inside a pyramid), an “Arabian War Lord” and his henchman, “One Eyed Arab,” those 2 who rode on the “four legged demons” and initially enslaved D’Leh’s tribe and kidnapped his blue-eyed woman. Unmistakably, the characters are meant to represent either Muslims or Middle Easterners – or both (Note: not all Middle Easterners are Muslims.) First, the actors playing the roles are Arab, but never mentioned as such outright – again this is 10,000 B.C. where apparently “the Axis of Evil” not only existed but was also all brown. Second, their wardrobe and headdress is distinctly Arab, reminiscent of Bedouins or centuries-old depictions of Saracens. Recent blockbuster movies such as Lord of the Rings: Return of the King and 300 have unsubtly employed similar, crude Arab-esque villainous caricatures; 10,000 B.C. follows the dishonorable tradition. After decades of celluloid “Arab” and “Muslim” stereotyping, I yearn simply to see a “Middle Eastern” villain who at least has a sense of humor and charisma. Is that too much to ask? Can’t he have a quip or witty repartee with the protagonist reminiscent of the Hans Gruber and John McClain relationship in the original Die Hard movie?

In a fitting throwback to that racist movie of yore, D.W. Griffith’s infamous “Birth of a Nation,” the War Lord Darkie becomes smitten with our blue-eyed heroine, much to the chagrin of his One-Eyed henchman: Divide and conquer! Towards the end, as D’Leh’s uprising is successful in freeing all, including the villains, from the clutches of the “Emperor god,” “The Arab War Lord” has a glorious opportunity to escape and free himself. What does he do instead? He kidnaps the blue-eyed White girl, throws her on the back of his horse, and tries to escape. Following the ideology espoused by White nationalists like Thomas Dixon and the makers of Birth of a Nation, the first thing Darkies do when given freedom is abuse that freedom by molesting White women. Since miscegenation is unacceptable even in 10,000 B.C., the “Arab War Lord’ earns his bloody and well earned demise.

Speaking about violence, this reviewer amusingly observed the audience cheering three times during the movie; each time after a character was speared to death. In order to increase approval ratings for the Iraq War, perhaps the Administration should think of equipping the soldiers with spears.

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Movies like 10,000 B.C. are mindless, pre-Summer popcorn fluff. They neither warrant nor merit this lengthy of an analysis. Their job is to maximize global revenue and DVD sales to ensure some semblance of profit. For the audience, we just expect to see people being eaten by cool looking, computer generated, prehistoric creatures. However, the stereotypes and caricatures were glaring and too inviting for me to pass this excellent opportunity to rant.

1.5 STARS OUT OF 4 STARS (DVD Rental while Multi-tasking)