Movie Review: Noah (2014)

by Tony Dayoub

If I were to review a film simply for its ambition, then Noah would get some of my most positive praise. Director Darren Aronofsky offers some truly enlightening perspective on the story. He also continues to explore themes present in all of his work. His Noah (Russell Crowe) is a true believer whose fervent passion not only flirts with madness but is consumed by it. Then there are the visual touches that serve not only to illustrate the vaguest portion of the Bible, the Book of Genesis, but also double as a means of marrying our contemporary knowledge of evolution to the more fantastic element of creationism in a way that asserts one need not necessarily exist independently of the other. There is a lot to chew on in this new, grimmer take on Noah and the ark he built to save his family and the animal kingdom from a flood meant to blot out the men. But if I were only to grade a film on ambition then I'd have to ignore the problematic mistakes of other bold films that try tackling complex narratives—movies like The Bonfire of the Vanities, Dune, and Heaven's Gate—spectacles which fail spectacularly.

Snow White and the Huntsman and Turn Me On, Dammit! (Få meg på, for faen) (2011)

by Tony Dayoub

At times it soars and other times it just kind of lays there, but all in all, Snow White and the Huntsman is a great deal better than I had been led to believe. It comes down to whether you are the type of viewer who can forgive a film's flaws if its visuals are as stunning as this movie's are. This is the second film this year to update the Grimm fairy tale. But Snow White and the Huntsman is a darker retelling than this year's kiddie-oriented Mirror Mirror, a lot more frightful and intense. Cinematographer Greig Fraser (Let Me In) and director Rupert Sanders (helming his first feature) run right at Snow White's derivative script, embracing its influences. However, it is unlike other films which wear their homages proudly on their sleeve, like, say, last year's Drive. That movie blatantly lifted from progenitors like Thief and The Driver to worse effect, highlighting its own inferiority if you will, while Snow White and the Huntsman improves on many of the concepts which inspired its production design.

Movie Review: Rango (2011)

by Tony Dayoub

You know what's the best feeling for a moviegoer? Going to the multiplex with average to low expectations about a movie only to be greatly surprised by how much you enjoyed it. Though the buzz was starting to get around that the animated western Rango was the first great film of 2011, I still went into it with some trepidation. Animated movies seem to touch the heart of even the most stone-faced critics who often seem to give such pictures a pass simply for displaying a modicum of visual originality (I'm thinking of such mediocrity as Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Despicable Me, Megamind, etc.). But with a glut of animation beginning to hit theaters as each studio tries to get into the game, it is harder and harder to predict which will be memorable and which won't be. I'm happy to report Rango exceeds expectations.

Movie Review: Edge of Darkness (2010)

by Tony Dayoub

Opening today, Edge of Darkness marks the first time Mel Gibson stars in a movie in seven years. A remake of a seminal British TV miniseries from the 1980s, its original director Martin Campbell (Casino Royale) returns to do the translating. It is apparent (even to this writer, who never saw the original) that there was some compression involved in adapting the story to the screen. Convoluted story points rush towards the viewer at breakneck speed. Minor characters seem to have a larger than normal prominence. But in the case of what is at the core a conventional conspiracy thriller, these attributes serve to enhance the fresh feel of the film rather than detract from it.

It's easy to see what attracted Gibson to the dark material in the first place. Like most of the characters he plays, Boston police detective Thomas Craven is a masochist. No, he doesn't endure violent physical torture here like he does as Martin Riggs in Lethal Weapon (1987), William Wallace in Braveheart (1995), or like the titular protagonist does in The Passion of the Christ (2004). Craven obsessively investigates the murder of his daughter, Emma (Bojana Novakovic), killed right before his eyes by an assailant who only at first glance was targeting him. He soon learns she led a compartmentalized life working for a classified nuclear energy project which may be at the root of her murder. Craven's determination to find those responsible lead him to immerse himself deeper and more painfully in the details and facts surrounding his daughter's death—and life—than most parents would ever care to. Director Campbell puts the viewer in Craven's headspace to get the point across, training the camera on the sink as he washes his daughter's blood off his face, making one conscious it is her life he sees circling down the drain. Then Gibson folds the bloodied hand towel ever so neatly and stows it in a glass, unable to part with her remains no matter how devastating a reminder they are. Here, the torture is purely emotional.

If the film's faults lie in the elliding and compression of its plot, its strengths are in Campbell's choice to favor personal moments over action oriented ones. He can still direct a brutal fight scene like the early one between Craven and a suspect who turns out to be Emma's boyfriend, or a violent collision such as the one which leads to a car falling into a lake. But more often than not, Campbell makes time to allow Craven and the viewer to ruminate on the relationship the cop had with his daughter. Photographs of Emma spark flashbacks to his relationship with her as a child, a particularly close one given the implication that he is a widower. One scene at the beach is particularly resonant, and even darkly humorous, because of the small mishap which occurs when he tries to spread her ashes.

Bolstering the resonance of the film's emotional undercurrent are the frequent and acute reminders that everyone is somebody's child. Even the tiniest characters in Edge of Darkness reveal quirks which make them stand out, like the reporter who apologizes to Craven for having to stalk him for a response, or the informant who keeps reminding him she owns a luggage store. More specifically, screenwriters William Monahan and Andrew Bovell work mightily to attune the viewer's state of mind to Craven's, one in which he is extremely aware of every individual's connection to parents, children, and their community—indeed their connection to life itself—a quality which some might think would hinder the detective in his quest for justice, but actually drives him forward. It also invests the thriller with a personal aspect which is so often lacking in such exercises.

This is not to say there aren't any underlying political dimensions to the film. Edge of Darkness is poised to be a resounding success—at least in the U.S.— despite some criticism about Gibson's character always seeming to be one step ahead of the movie's villains. It's a valid point. But it is also what helps the viewer identify so keenly with Craven. Given the current political climate, a determined vigilante seeking justice after his daughter is eliminated by government contractors for doing what is morally right is a ready-made hero for this era of anti-government populism.