STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS (2013, JJ Abrams)

       Honestly, I've ranted about new major blockbusters a lot. So perhaps it seems a bit odd that I'm going to take on a high budgeted sequel to a major franchise. Into Darkness truly shocked me, and not even in an ironic way. EVen though the 2009 reboot of the series was good, Into Darkness trumped it in nearly every way imaginable, creating a smarter, tighter, more exciting film all around.
       Into Darkness delivers on its title, and delivers a much more morbid film, as much of it is focused around death- reactions and fears. Spock is externally fearless through his rational approach, but internally thinks about his demise and the demise of his friends as much as Kirk, who does not lack the emotional restraint. Kirk makes several brash decisions in order to avenge his fallen mentor, but ultimately will not let his rage betray his morality.
       All three leads- Chris Pine (Kirk), Zachary Quinto (Spock) and Benedict Cumberbatch ("John Harrison")- excel in their roles and carry the film. JJ Abrams style fits the film like a glove, and I personally felt that his often mocked lens flares fit the style and content, definitely leaving a futuristic, other-worldly touch to the film.
       Narratively, the script is an air-tight two hours, leading its audience to different planets and developments naturally, working equally well whether Spock and Kirk are together or separated. The films up and downs are marvelous, seeming to climax several times with knock-out drag-out action sequences frequently. But even without them, the film thrives. The do not carry a soggy storyline, but rather work with it, like strawberries in cereal. You like the cereal anyway, but the strawberries are damn good in it.
       Perhaps the weakest moment of the film is the appearance of Leonard Nimoy- an older Spock from another universe, returning from the first film (even though he told his younger self they can never meet again). The entire scene is problematic- First, it's kind of dopey how Spock contacts his older self to begin with- it appears he just calls him. Second, and by far the biggest problem- Old Spock adds nothing to the film. He simply confirms to the audience (and the crew) that the main antagonist is evil, something already well-known. In fact, even without this information, Kirk prepares to disable the villain immediately after working with him. Young Spock asks his older self how the villain was defeated, and the scene cuts. We don't know what Spock says, but how on earth would Old Spock have any information about the current situation? Sure, the ending is a reverse of one of the original Star Trek films, but Spock does nothing to cause that. The entire appearance is like Nimoy wanted to be in the film, and the producers simply didn't have the heart to say no, so they wrote him into an already completed script.
       But despite that one weakness, Star Trek Into Darkness is an exceptional piece of big budget Hollywood filmmaking- It's smart and covers some heavy themes without being pretentious, heavy-handed, or downright shallow, it's thrilling, and above all, it's just a lot of fun and is just a total rush.

ZERO DARK THIRTY (2012,Kathryn Bigelow) and the issues of Cerebral films

       Zero Dark Thirty, released several months ago to significant critical acclaim, continued Bigelow's career in the direction she paved with 2008's The Hurt Locker. Zero Dark Thirty follows Maya, a young CIA analyst who becomes obsessed with finding Osama bin Laden. I saw the film on it's initial release, and have not had the chance to watch it again, but the film truly stuck in my head- and not in the good way.
       ZDT follows an unfortunate trend of films that have received very good reviews despite very poor plotting and writing in general. These films are labeled cerebral, not in the sense that they make you think, but that they utilize only their heads, and are over-plotted and ultimately heartless. Sidney Lumet used this term in his book Making Movies, but it has been used in other sources as well. Zero Dark Thirty is at the heart of the resurgence of this trend, with films like Michael Clayton and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy. All the films listed have several shared characteristics- long lengths, overly complex plots that are essentially impossible to follow, and  ultimately resulting in a film that is all about the plot and has no time for character development or heart.
       In almost three hours, Bigelow's film covers a ten-year period, sending Maya all over the globe, and constantly introducing characters and plot lines. But we really know nothing about Maya, which is the issue. The film leaves no time to really show her, and as a result she is a background to the complexities of the script. It's like the writers attempted to show how smart they were, and they do end up with a tight knot of a story, but Maya is just a pawn. We know she is totally devoted to her career and has little time for anything else, but in doing so, we neither know her or care about her.
       Every issue in the film comes to light at the conclusion. Osama Bin Laden is killed in the covert mission, where Maya is taken offscreen for nearly thirty minutes. The scene is intense and exceptionally well-done, to the point where its failings in character vanish. It is a suspenseful, well-crafted action sequence that is the obvious strength of the film. However, the film is weakened by its conclusion, where we return to Maya at the base. It attempts to show the film's point, but ends up simply grasping out towards the air. Its hands close around nothing, yet it tries to present us with its find. We just see an empty hand.
       Bin Laden's body is presented to Maya. She asks to be left alone, and over the terrorists body, she weeps. But why? For the loss of her friends who were killed by his organizations? For the loss of her life in ten years hunting a man? For the loss of Bin Laden's life? Because she finally realized all those monkeys died? We have no idea, and we were given no clues. Most people will say that she cries for the years wasted, but we have no indication she feels that way. We see so little of her true self, as she is always consumed by the twists and turns of the plot, to the point where she is suffocated.
      But the worst is not the fact we do not know why she weeps, but that really, we don't care. We don't know or like Maya at all. And thus, the film ends attempting to touch us emotionally, but fails miserably. Zero Dark Thirty's biggest flaw is that its maze of a plot swallows any characters that are being grown.

FRANCES HA (2013, Noah Baumbach)

       Noah Baumbach is best known for his quick and witty dialogue, where characters use inflated vocabularies  but still sound natural (or at least fitting to the character). This is best scene in his films Kicking and Screaming, Squid and the Whale, Greenberg, and his screenplay collaborations with Wes Anderson (Life Aquatic and Fantastic Mr. Fox). Anderson and Baumbach are typically compared to one another due to their work together, but in reality, there is no reason to compare them. Sure, both are "quirky," but in totally different ways. Anderson paints technicolor pictures (literally with his images and figuratively by his story lines), while Baumbach has always carried a cynical edge to his work. Anderson can stray to darker topics from time to time but always comes back to pop songs and sunshine. Baumbach's stories typically have greater emotional depth and do not emphasize the superficial composition.
       Baumbach's latest work, Frances Ha, is certainly a comedy, consistant with most of Baumbach's works, but is not afraid of looking into the void of a future that possibly awaits Frances, our 20-something New Yorker. The film follows Frances as she resists change in her life. Her best friend becomes more and more committed to the type of guy they used to make fun of for his distressed baseball caps, her low-paying job at a dance studio is going nowhere, and she can't sem to find a solid place to live. The film's major external motion is Frances moving from apartment to apartment, finding new roommates and living situations, trying to grow up and find stability.
       However, Frances doesn't really have any intention of growing up, it seems. In the film's opening, she leaves her boyfriend because she does not want to leave her best friend Sophie alone in an apartment, and never contacts her ex again, even though Sophie soon moves out. For her career, she turns down a valuable opportunity to work as an assistant to the dance school's director out of an odd mix of pride and refusing to change career directions. However, right after rejecting that job, she accepts a position as a college tour guide at her alma mater, showing that she was ready to accept "failure" to herself, but not publicly yet.
       Greta Gerwig is phenomenal as the wandering 20-something. Although self-importantly quirky characters are hopefully a thing of the past, since they typically have zero depth besides doing something silly and inappropriate (think Zooey Deschanel in many of her roles, Natalie Portman in Garden State, and even Gerwig herself in last year's disastrous Damsels in Distress), Frances has obvious reasons working behind her actions. When she dances while running in the street, we know why.
       Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Frances Ha is the heavy stylistic similarities between it and French New Wave films. Baumbach seems to have drawn from a mix of Goddard and Truffaut in particular. Although Truffaut's wanderlust in regards to story and structure is obvious throughout the film, I felt the presence of Goddard heavily during a later scene in the film, in which a drunk Frances delivers a lengthy but well-crafted monologue about the nature of love, and how one hopes to find it. The speech's placement just reeked of Goddard, and truly allowed all the pieces of the film to fall into place. France's idealistic view on love that she presents tampers with not only her romances  but all other aspects of life- friendships, careers, and dreams.
      Frances Ha is certainly a unique film, filled with alternating fear and hope for the future. Baumbach, now in his forties, gracefully enters the life of someone much younger than him and without any clear prospects, yet as an outsider, gently diagnoses her and allows the audience to see her flaws. However, he does not judge, and allows her to learn, succeed, and ultimately grow into her own person and create her own opportunities and success. Frances Ha is a brillant tribute to fading youth, New Wave, and the fear of an unknown future

A FACE IN THE CROWD (Elia Kazan, 1957)

       Although I usually don't like to use the word "Underrated" regarding film, as it's incredibly overused as it is, Elia Kazan's 1957 film A Face in the Crowd certainly fits the criteria (or actually, "under viewed" might be a better fit. Although it receives acclaim now, Kazan's originally critically reviled film isn't seen as the classic it truly is.
       The late Andy Griffith hypnotizes the audience as Lonesome Rhodes, a crazed, larger than life radio personality who takes the world by storm, only to use his huge, loyal audience for his own benefit and exploits them. Rhodes doesn't even exploit them for his own ideological gains- he seems too stupid and monetarily interested to have his own opinions.

      Rather than a typical look at the film, I've decided to republish an older essay on Kazan's film, exploring the film's treatment of celebrity excess:

       Elia Kazan’s 1957 film A Face in the Crowd stars Andy Griffith stars as Lonesome Rhodes, a drifter who a radio station hires to sing songs and spout “Grass root wisdom.” From his humble beginnings, Rhodes becomes a phenomenon with a rabid fan base and a national television program. Kazan uses his characters to show the realities of the media culture. Lonesome Rhodes represents the powerful, narcissistic, nearly unstoppable media, while his love interests represent the general public’s reaction to the media. A Face in the Crowd serves as a portrait of the media, the characters it creates and the general public’s reaction.

       After being released from jail, Rhodes slowly begins to realize his impressive amount of power: first as an entertainer, then as a voice of the people and finally as a political figure. Rhodes’s power was always imminent on screen through his presence in the frame. When the audience is introduced to Rhodes, he is hungover, sleeping in the corner of the county jail. He is completely absent for the several minutes of the film, but after the sheriff wakes him, he immediately becomes the film’s focus. 

       Throughout the majority of the film, Rhodes occupies the middle of the frame, representing his massive personality and his unstoppable nature. If Rhodes is not in the center of the frame in the shot’s beginning, it seems he moves within the frame to become the literal center of attention. However, at the film’s end, Rhodes embarrasses himself on the air, mocking the audience, and forever loses his seemingly unstoppable power, as well as Marcia Jefferies, the woman he loves. The film’s final shot is of the New York City landscape: Taxis, skyscrapers, and a large neon Coca-Cola sign. The audience can hear Rhodes cry into the night, but he is nowhere to be seen: His celebrity has faded.

       Rhodes’s relationship with the public is represented by two women he loves: Betty Lou Fleckum and Marcia Jefferies. Fleckum represents the mass public. Fleckum, who becomes Rhodes’s wife at age seventeen, is at first completely infatuated by him, even admitting to have a picture of Rhodes taped to her ceiling. However, Fleckum quickly looses interest and cheats on her husband after several months. Rhodes’s true love is Jefferies, who represents the more educated public. Jefferies, a radio producer, discovers Rhodes in jail, and planned to wed him, but Rhodes became hypnotized by the energetic passion of Fleckum. 

       Despite his betrayal, and her first hand knowledge of the artificiality and deep-rooted corruption of Lonesome Rhodes, Jefferies still loves him, and was unable to leave him until the film’s end. Jefferies directly causes Rhodes’s downfall, as she is responsible for leaking his off-air comments, where he calls the audience idiots. Jefferies felt that her and Rhodes could only be separate if she ruined his career. Like the public, Jefferies overlooked Rhodes’s unappealing behavior and focused on his status and power. Once his fame was diminished, Jefferies could leave. Ultimately, the power of media and celebrities transfixes the public and holds them captive until the glossy lights of fame are dimmed or removed.

LIFE IS SWEET (Mike Leigh, 1990)

       Mike Leigh is an anomaly. It's rare for a director to be so acclaimed, yet receive so little mainstream recognition in America. Sure, Leigh gets a ton of recognition from the niche cinephile crowd, like the Criterion Collection, but Leigh's films have never had a major studio backing. Perhaps his films are just "too British" for America in many ways, full of dry wit, quirky characters, and dark moments of drama contrasting from the established tone.
       Perhaps Life is Sweet is the finest example of Leigh's style, and his "British" touch, even though the film's has an decidedly American focus of a family trying to succeed and, in a word, follow their dreams. The father, Andy, is a successful head chef who buys a broken down food truck. His wife, Wendy, seems to be a housewife first and tries to pick up a career afterward. Their two twenty-two year old daughters appear to be polar opposites- Natalie is a neat, short-haired, focused plumber's apprenticed, while the frail Nicola appears to do nothing but sit around all day. Essentially, the parents want to move forward with their lives, while their daughters are content, one way or another.
       The film is set in motion by Andy's brash decision to spend decidedly too much on a broken down food truck, drawing mockery and criticism from the rest of his family. Andy never really does much with the van, besides sleeping in it after a rough night at the pub. Based on his family life, Andy seems like a bumbling man-child, akin to a schlubby sitcom Dad. However, our perception of Andy is shattered when we see brief scenes of him working as a head chef- he has complete control of his kitchen. While his family life is not a total mess of dysfunction, it is certainly less sleek and streamlined than his kitchen. Andy's purchase of the truck is simply an attempt to come into his own, and truly have control of his own life, by owning a business. However, despite the impulsive purchase, Andy is slow to get started, planning and thinking practically.
       Andy's slow, planned start greatly contrasts the food-business entry of family friend Aubrey, a young, showy, unintentionally goofy young man who seems to hide his great insecurity with inflated pride. Aubrey's chief characteristic appears to be frustration- both occupational and sexual. He lusts over both Wendy and Nicola, and loudly hammers on the drums when things do not go his way, to the mocking amusement of Andy and Wendy. While Andy begins to informally plan a menu, discussing a few food items the cart will serve, Aubrey had no planning it seems besides working off his presumed culinary genius. His food is incredibly unappetizing, as is the restaurant's decor. Aubrey's rush into the restaurant business is disastrous, as he forgets to advertise at all for the restaurants opening. Aubrey represents the dangers of unchecked dreaming without realism.
       Wendy volunteers to be Aubrey's opening night waitress, adding to a string of odd jobs- child's dance instructor, baby clothes salesperson, and French cuisine waitress. However, Wendy is only seen at each of these jobs once, and she is mainly seen around her family, which is perhaps her true occupation in her eyes, even though she may resist it. As she reveals to Nicola towards the end, she  originally had other plans for her life before becoming pregnant at a young age with twins. Her decision not to abort Nicola and Natalie alters her coure in life, although she, nor Andy, seem to regret their decision. Still, Wendy takes up small, quirky jobs as means to entertain and fulfill her still young spirit.
       Of the twins, Nicola appears to be a complete mess, and the source of the biggest dramatic tension in the film. Nicola is bulimic, a fact Lehigh deals with seriously, but does not force down the audience's throats. Life is Sweet is certainly not an "issue film," like an after-school special, in this regard, biut simply is a film that, among other things, covers this topic seriously and without judgment. Nicola's bulimia is just another complication in her life and her personality- she's rude, unpleasant, and appears to be completely apathetic towards everything. Although she says she is political, she attends no rallies, does not write, and is completely non committal. In fact, when she criticizes her father for striving to be a capitalist, Wendy encourages her to join a socialist group, just so she can do something. Nicola also appears to care deeply for her unnamed lover, but tries to show no affection whatsoever. Even if she does not care for him, per say, she cares what he says and what he does. She constantly forces him to rub her down with Hazelnut spread, and then eat it off of her, relating back directly to her eating disorder, and despite blowing him off and acting disinterested, she seems heartbroken when he calls her stupid. Nicola's apathy has ruined her in a way, leaving her empty and aimless.
       Natalie, on the other hand, appears a different kind of empty. She has a solid job with a plumber, and is constantly referred to as the "happy one." However, externally, Natalie shows no emotion, especially no signs that she is happy at all. In reality, she is not the "happy one," but simply the one who is much more emotionally stable. Besides her work, though, Natalie seems to have very little. She never mentions a boyfriend or lover, despite her plans to have a child soon. Natalie's emptiness is much more subtle than the rest of the family's, but possibly could be the most devastating  she appears to have little besides a solid career, while everyone else has something- even Nicola learns how important her family is.
       Life is Sweet paints a portrait of dysfunction, but does so lovingly and sincerely. Even calling it dysfunction doesn't seem right, but I currently lack a better term. Sure the family has issues, but most do. At the end of the film, they appear completely united by a small, lightly traumatic event- a simple broken leg. After fights, every member of the family renews their peace with one another. However, their occupational peace is interrupted- the food cart is on hold, Wendy will no longer work for Aubrey after he drunkenly came on to her, and Nicola still has no idea what she will do. But the family is together, and for them, and for the audience, that is really all that matters when the film closes. We focus not on the food truck, but on the family.

How Spielberg's "Hollywood Implosion" theory isn't that crazy after all

        Last week, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas made a bold prediction regarding the future of the film industry, saying prices will skyrocket for blockbusters after a few 250Mil+ failures. Online, the reception of these comments has been pretty harsh to say the least, with Duncan Jones summarizing the comments as a "a fascinating insight into 2 out of touch, old men." That pretty much sums up the viewpoint of the internet, but really, people are forgetting how much Lucas and Spielburg know about the industry.
       The most common criticism of the statement is simply mentioning the prequel trilogy and Crystal Skull. But really, those two films are irrelevant to the directors' insights and knowledge of the industry. Spielburg continues to make highly acclaimed films, such as Lincoln from just last year. Is the internet's attention span so short that they actually forgot about Spielburg's award-nominated blockbuster. Lucas, on the other hand, has a different perspective- one of failure, after he fought with studios to make Red Tails and even after its completion, Lucas failed to get the marketing he desired, resulting in lackluster box office returns.
       In essence, the two are saying that in the near future, studios will lose huge amount of money on blockbusters. As a result, high-budgeted films will then have higher ticket prices, while lower-budgeted films will actually see a reduction of prices. Spielberg says that something like Iron Man 3 will cost $25 to see, while something like Lincoln will cost just $7. Spielburg goes on to say that in the future, blockbusters will be major events, like live sports or concerts, and thus will have premium prices.
       Many people claim that this is unrealistic, since today, films are almost instantly available online via a pirated copy, and people will simply stop going if prices raise that much. However, these critics seem to forget several things about Hollywood. First, Hollywood has always been about gimmicks designed to put people in seats, and have been doing so since the dawn of television. Be it 3-D, Imax, or a new experience, studios and theaters will invent ways to get people into theaters and if needed, make going to the cinema a major event.
       However, there's surely a limit. At some point, prices will be so high that people will just download a bootleg. But perhaps the biggest step in Spielburg's prediction coming a reality is Hollywood cracking down on piracy once and for all. Copyright laws will soon be altered, and very well could give studios more power to prosecute those that supply the illegal copies of movies, and even those who download them. If prices are raised drastically, studios would be able to force cinemas into hiring additional employees who monitor theaters looking for those with recording equipment. These could be trained studio employees, working at individual theaters with licences to "high-piracy" releases, equipped with special tools, knowledge and legal powers to stop would-be bootleggers and pirates.
       If the theater refuses to comply, then they simply stop getting blockbusters, driving down their attendance and revenue. Watermarks can be subtley placed over images, which is already being done with the Prima Cinema, a $35,000 device which allows individuals to watch first-run Hollywood films in their own home. the watermarks are undetectable to the human eye, but can be seen by computer programs easily. If each theater had a personal watermark on each print of a film, a leaked copy could be tracked to the theater, and even a particular screening.
       So, with raised security and strengthened legal powers, piracy can be seriously halted. If piracy is stifled, films could play for longer periods of time, and an eventual home video release could take place over a year after a theatrical release. I personally have no doubt that if something like Iron Man 3 was exclusive to cinemas for an entire year or more, people would flock to see it, no matter the price. Sure, less would likely be sold, but since the price of a ticket would be up 250%, and it would be screening for several months at a time, its budget would be quickly recovered.
       I am not saying Spielburg and Lucas are correct. Many variables are in play, but it is foolish to write off their predictions as two out of touch old men. At the very least, the world of high-budget cinema will soon change radically.

Great Responsibilities- the eventual death of superhero movies

       We have not seen a year without superhero movies since 2001. Since then, we have seen nearly every superhero have a franchise of their own, and several have had multiple franchises. And as of 2013, there is no end in sight. The end (at least for the time being) must be on the horizon. Film is suffering, audiences are suffering, and studios are setting themselves up for suffering- they might just not know it yet.
       The films themselves are weakening substantially. After The Avengers pioneered a sort of superhero extravaganza, which was incredibly entertaining, yet felt cheap, almost worthy of a two-hour special on ABC with all of the "special guest stars" and cheap narrative tricks, there is no new ground for superhero movies to develop. There are only so many ways to explore the consequences of a "great responsibility," and every angle has been explored multiple times in just the past five years. Good or evil, action or inaction, showmanship or humility, and countless more have been completed milked dry.
     Additionally, the films essentially are in two camps- the Marvel films, generally created for "cheap" action but packed with thrills and laughs (the Iron Man model), and the DC films, meant to serve "adults as well as children," lacking the humor  of comic books and attempted to dwell on deeper themes (the Dark Knight model). Man of Steel, released nationwide today, appears to conform to the latter model, but since I have not seen it yet, I can't comment on it. However, both models have serious downfalls.
      Marvel films are certainly more child-geared, which in itself isn't a bad thing, especially for the studios. They make boats of money, which more adult films cannot do. As a result, more adult-oriented films fail to receive studio backing, with the exception of those with Scorsese-like names attached. The Marvel films are the lesser problem. The Dark Knight model films deceive audiences, tricking adults into thinking that they are seeing a deep, thought-provoking film, when in reality they are seeing an action movie with "deep" themes tacked on top so clumsily, you can see the teeth marks made when the tape was ripped off the roll.
      Most adult audiences want both entertainment and stimulation, and the Dark Knight model films claim to offer both. But ultimately, the line between Iron Man model and Dark Knight model films is so vague, the same film is produced again and again. Last year's disastrous Amazing Spider-Man is the prime example. Not only has every theme explored in the film a carbon copy of Sam Rami's original work, it attempts to mesh the popcorn, neon-lit action of Iron Man with the foggy morals of Dark Knight, resulting in a total mess of a production. The film received a good share of praise, creating fear for the future of superhero movies. If meshing the two tones works, shouldn't that be the new norm- candy-coating action and brooding in one product?
      We are moving towards an atonal superhero movie, and the eventual crash of the genre. Perhaps the  film most likely to crash and burn is Justice League, with its needed massive budget, its handling of two "deeper" franchises- Man of Steel and the Dark Knight- and its promise of a mess of characters. If the genre does not fail, the films will certainly become less unique, and degrade to a cookie cutter formula. Already, there is very little new ground to explore in the genre. Over time, new areas will be created by the changing world, and superheros will be needed again, but the genre will soon be in a sad state.
     But will anyone notice the films are stale when they truly become the same thing over and over again, or will people flock to see a new version popular hero, even though the story and delivery is nearly identical to the last one? If the studios don't soon learn with the box office, they may never. We could be facing a grim few years cinematically, with studios willing to support originality less and less, relying on the safe, boring profits of the heros.

Edit: Just to clarify, I am speaking on adaptations of traditional superhero comic books. A History of Violence, Road to Perdition, and Ghost World are based on comics, but are able to really become their own, while I don't think Iron Man or Batman ever does. I'm sure there's a good amount of people who have no idea History of Violence is based on a comic, while even more obscure superhero comics can never break from their source material and become their own product.

NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955, Charles Laughton)

Just as a note, "classic" reviews will lean more towards analysis, and be more liberal with spoilers.

       Towards the end of his stories career, world renowned actor Charles Laughton turned to directing, leading stage productions of Caine Mutiny Court Marshall and Don Juan in Hell, receiving critical acclaim. It was then only natural that Laughton should move into film direction, and did so with 1955's Night of the Hunter. The film suffered from poor contemporary reviews, and Laughton never directed another film.
       It is fairly easy to see why Night of the Hunter was critically panned at the time. In a word, the film is just bizarre, featuring heavily stylized performances, unusual pacing, and direct addresses of the camera. But for these reasons, Laughton's film acts as an important milestone in American cinema, and widely influenced future filmmakers, notably David Lynch.
       At the core, the film is a story of good and evil, but Laughton's script, which he co-wrote with David Agee, presents the story like a fable, where Robert Mitchum's corrupt preacher is not just evil, but represents evil at a whole, while Lillian Gish's Mrs. Cooper stands for an ultimate good. Mitchum is spectacular as the singing, tattooed, ever-present con-man claiming to be a man of God (and seems to genuinely believe he is a man of God), who feels his mission is to murder "loose" widows and make off with their money. He arrives at the Harper household shortly after the father's execution for robbery, and Powell sets himself to find the money he believes the dead man hid with his children.
       The stark photography aids the black-and-white morality the fable-like film creates, with high contrast throughout and heavy use of shadows and motivated lighting. Powell lives in the shadows it seems, and when the children flee, he searches for them and their money day and night. But ultimately, evil has no chance in the world of the film. Powell seems to be completely incompetent, and is unable to do harm with any opposition from good characters. He trips over glass jars, gets his fingers slammed in the door, is unable to swim, and ultimately, Gish's Mrs. Cooper accidentally shoots him when both are startled by a cat. When he's shot, Powell shrieks like Daffy Duck, showing that in the end, he's just an animal, capable of harm but easy to defeat if one is aware of him. Cooper calls the police, saying that an animal is trapped in her barn. When they leisurely arrive several hours later, Powell is still in the barn, at this point too cowardly to even attempt an escape.
       Despite his quick disposal, the audience truly believes Powell is a serious threat. When he arrives at Mrs. Cooper's house near the end of the film, singing his favorite hymn, it's once again blood-curdling. At that moment, he seems so intimidating and icy, one forgets how useless he was chasing the children just minutes earlier. However, one does not forget his psychological manipulation of the widow, Willa (Shelly Winters), and the Spoons, a naive, yet kind couple that befriended the Harpers.
       Willa at first seems uninterested in Powell, as she mourns her husband's death, but soon she believes that Powell is the key to her salvation and freedom from sin. She quickly marries Powell, and on the first night attempts to sleep with him, though Powell chastises her, and eventually indoctrinates her into his fanatical mindset. In a brillant sequence, Willa and Powell preach at a church lit by torches. One torch always engulfs the left hand corner of the screen, seemingly unmoving from shot to shot. Willa eventually learns that Powell is after her husband's money, but does not seem overly concerned. Nevertheless, Powell acts quickly, and slits her throat as she lies in bed, disinterested in her surroundings.
       The Spoons support Powell tirelessly, giving him the unconditional benefit of the doubt. After he murders Willa, Powell cries to the Spoons, who mock Willas's "loose morals," and remain completely unsuspicious, even when Powell insists that there is no way WIlla could possibly return, and when Powell disappears. Yet at the film's end, when Powell is convicted and set to be executed, the Spoons lead an angry mob, with literal pitchforks, to the prison to lynch Powell. At this moment, the Spoons are both outraged and embarrassed that Powell operated directly under their noses. Yet they do not mention their guilt of inaction, only demonize the preacher and lead a crowd in pitying the Harper children,
       The film also has several interesting points to make on religion. Religion is seen at both its best and its worst though Powell and Cooper. Powell is simply a fanatic who has lost all sight of the religion's true meaning. He does not commit to any religion, and seems to create one which aids his own needs, to the point where he believes that his personal lord sends him to widows. John Harper, the dead man's son who constantly clashes with Powell, is repulsed by Powell's fanaticism, and is the only character who can see through his nonsense immediately. Mrs. Cooper, on the other hand, is certainly Christian and routinely reads the children stories from the bible. When she first attempts to read to the children about Moses, John leaves the room in disgust, but slowly turns his head towards Mrs. Cooper in order to hear the story.
       The beliefs of Powell and Cooper come head to head during the films climax, where the two sing their own versions of "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." Cooper's specifically mentions Jesus, something Powell has failed to do the entire film. Sure, he mentions "the Lord" regularly, but the reference is so unspecific and vague, it could mean anything. Powell's true religion is simply a self-serving one.
       Some of the film's abstract themes and techniques have heavily influenced other filmmakers. The Coen Brothers, notably their early films (but one could easily make a case tying Night of the Hunter to their masterpiece No Country for Old Men),  utilized heavily stylized performances to depict larger themes, like the demonic biker in Raising Arizona. The film allegorically uses nature to reflect the themes of the film, which has evolved to be a staple in the filmography of Terrence Malick  David Lynch used many of the film techniques, notably borrowing the film's opening, where Cooper adresses the audience in the cosmos, for the ultimate scene in The Elephant Man. 
       Night of the Hunter, while being widely influential, is completely capable of standing on its own merits as a poetic film acting very much as a modernized fairy tale, where children triumph, good exposes evil as weak and even silly, and evil is punished. Through the years, the film has gained significant praise, reversing the early poor reviews. However, it is certainly easy to understand why 1955 audiences would have been taken aback, even repulsed, by the film's odd delivery and style.

MUD (2013, Jeff Nichols)

No introduction needed, I guess, besides this. Not only is this the first Eye Slice review, this is the first article. I'm going to try to create new content at least three times a week- Monday, Wednesday, Friday. But who knows. So, let's start with a new film, Jeff Nicols Mud.

       

         Mud debuted at Cannes 2012, but only received a wide American release in the last few weeks. Mud has been praised widely, like Nichols previous effort Take Shelter. Take Shelter showed the new director's promise, despite a flawed third act and conclusion that ultimately muddled the message Nichols tried to convey.

       Mud immediately has several things going for it. Nichols's strongest attribute appears to be building an immersive environment, and Mud is no exception. We explore the deep south through the eyes of two young boys, in a modern environment, but not tied to one moment in time. In this aspect, it resembles a Mark Twain story. Nichols's fingerprints can be seen in every frame of the film, but it is still completely relatable. 

       Matthew McConaughey is as good as the often derided actor has ever been. He creates the love-sick exile warmly, building his character slowly, but leaving much open for interpretation and a deeper reading. The young Tye Sheridan excels as the impressionable, confused Ellis, susceptible to facing a similarly grim future as Mud, who runs from gangsters and the police after killing a "connected" man for beating Mud's love, Juniper (Reese Witherspoon).

      However, as the film progresses, it weakens substantially. the biggest issue lies with the central romance, between Mud and Juniper, which is vastly uninteresting and says nothing of note about love, family, or romantic disinterest, themes that come from the other two relationships depicted in the film- the faltering marriage of Ellis's parents, and Ellis's courtship of a high school girl several years older than him. Both relationships are much more dynamic and interesting than Mud and Juniper, which falls flat quickly, doesn't progress and ultimately passes on as an afterthought, and kills much of the film's story, especially the second act.

       The chief antagonists of the film are similarly bland: a squad of generic gangsters led by the brother  and the father of the man Mud killed. However, the gangsters seem like another afterthought to Nichols, as they are simply a mechanical creation used to move the plot, and say absolutely nothing about any of the themes or messages of the film. When the storyline comes to a close, it doesn't satisfy in the slightest, since there is no real fear from the gangsters, or even interest in the father and son trying to get their revenge. The film seems to want to say something on violence, but can barely gasp out a word or two on the subject before it is immersed by the ineffective stories around it.

       Even the much more interesting dynamic between Ellis's parents resolves sloppily. Nichols's seems completely unsure what the real story he wants to tell is, and what it even all means, so tries to throw several stories on top of one another, hoping one sticks. Actually, Ellis's relationship with high school girl, who the audience immediately knows is uninterested in him romantically, works, but is underutilized and forgotten.

      Adam Stone's photography is completely unremarkable, despite several interesting shots of the wilderness. Stone and Nichols compositions are generally shallow and bland. The 35mm print looks digital, in the worst way a film can look so. the focus is constantly shallow, and the blurred, out of focus patterns that often live behind the characters are simply boring. 

       All in all, Nichols's third film cannot be anything more than a promise of things to come of the young filmmaker. Despite what many proclaim, Jeff Nichols is nowhere near maturity for a filmmaker, although several individual aspects of Mud show potential, but no guarantee of development or future success. Mud certainly represents a step back from Nichols previous efforts.

Bottom line: Despite a stunning environment and several brillant performances, Mud fails to come together and ultimately falls flat due cliches and poor story telling.