Movie Reviews

'The A-Team': On the rogue again

Liam Neeson as the "A-Team" leader.
(20th Century Fox)

The A-Team

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Running time: 117 minutes

MPAA rating: PG-13 (intense sequences of action and violence throughout, profanity and smoking)

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"The A-Team"

Welcome to '80s Reboot Week at your neighborhood movie house.

Film-goers might just feel like they're in a time warp as they stroll multiplex hallways and see the re-imagined "Karate Kid" in one theater and a reconfigured "A-Team" in another.

It should surprise no one that "The A-Team" is a B-movie.

The campy TV action series that occupied NBC prime time from 1983 to 1987 provided an action fix, not logic.  The redux tones down the campy nature a little.  You'll never hear B.A., Mr. T's old character, growl, "I pity the fool," for instance.  Audiences are more sophisticated these days, according to the "A-Team" words of wisdom spun in the film's press notes.

This time we get nuance, if you'd like to call it that.  The first time B.A. batters bad guys with his fists, we notice the word "Pity" tattooed on the fingers of one hand and -- don't get ahead of me -- "Fool" on the other.

Mixed martial artist Quinton "Rampage" Jackson steps in as B.A., the A-Team wheel man who's in the wrong line of work to have a serious fear of flying.  At the center, though, is Liam Neeson as cigar-chomping leader and tactician Col.  John "Hannibal" Smith (the George Peppard role).  

Rising star Bradley Cooper ("The Hangover," "All About Steve") is Face, designated ladies man and sm-o-o-o-th talker.  Sharlto Copley, who sprang to the forefront from nowhere as Wikus in last year's "District 9," steps into the role of crazed-genius pilot "Howlin' Mad" Murdock.

Co-stars include excellent actor Patrick Wilson ("Watchmen") as mysterious CIA weasel Lynch, Jessica Biel ("The Illusionist") as Capt. Sosa, a former love of Face's, and somewhat laughable lines like this:

Face to Capt. Sosa during a heated confrontation:  "I forgot how beautiful you are."

"The A-Team," lensed north of the border with the Vancouver area of Canada doubling for Mexico, Baghdad, Germany, Los Angeles and other locales, rattles the theater speakers and singes the screen with plenty of fast-paced adrenalin-pumping explosions and near-cartoon-like action.

These special ops experts survived combat in Middle East conflicts.   The '80s quartet cut their teeth on napalm and treachery of the Vietnam War era.  Both sets of misunderstood soldiers of fortune were wrongly accused of walking off with war booty (robbing the Bank of Hanoi on TV/ stealing $100-bill U.S. currency plates from Baghdad in the current skirmish).

Director Joe Carnahan ("Smokin' Aces," "Narc") co-wrote this screenplay with actor/writer Brian Bloom (who plays Black Ops leader Pike) and Skip Woods, who co-wrote "X-Men Origins:  Wolverine" and penned the sly action-crime saga "Swordfish."  

There's just a hint of retro in this adventure that culminates in a big, explosive finish at the L.A. harbor.  Anyone who saw "MacGruber" recently might have slight "MacGyver" flashbacks.  The "A-Team" is plenty adept at warrior arts and crafts at a moment's notice and at grabbing odds and ends for parts to homemade weapons of mass destruction.

Quickly forgettable, "The A-Team" is like a carnival ride that briefly thrills and is fun, but won't linger long in the brain.

Slightly off the robust entertainment target

 

Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe), a straight shooter.  (Universal Pictures)

"Robin Hood"

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Running time: 140 minutes

MPAA rating: PG-13 (violence including intense sequences of warfare, some sexual content)

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"Robin Hood"

When Russell Crowe and Ridley Scott re-team for the umpteenth adaptation of the Robin Hood legend, we get a fair dose of "Gladiator," a little "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," major sword-clanking battles in Sherwood Forest and, by Scott and Crowe dark standards, Merry Men merriment.

"Robin Hood," which co-stars Cate Blanchett, William Hurt, Max Von Sydow and other fine actors, is the fifth collaboration for the New Zealand born movie star and his prolific British cohort in the director's chair.

Move often than not, the modus operandi has been tough guys in seriously dangerous situations.  "Gladiator" earned an Oscar nomination for Scott and a Best Actor golden statuette for his leading man.   Crowe and Scott reunited for "American Gangster" in 2007 and the thriller "Body of Lies" a year later.

In between, the duo took a little wine and cheesy movie break in France.  With Scott calling the shots, Crowe drank a little wine, wooed a pretty damsel and fell into an empty swimming pool.  That was "A Good Year." (2006)

"Robin Hood" begins in France as well, but there's little time to sit around sipping Chardonnay.  It's 1199 and archer Robin Longstride (Crowe) is among King Richard the Lionheart's (Danny Huston) troops laying siege to a French castle.  

Here we go again.  It's obvious from the spectacular opening sequence that the tag-team of Scott and Crowe are ready to rumble on a very large scale again.  If you were awake in high school history class, you may recall that the king doesn't walk away from the battle (despite winning).

It's nothing new for legends that loom large on our movie screens to be kneaded more than a little for mass market consumption.  "Robin Hood" screenwriter Brian Helgeland, who shared an Academy Award with director Curtis Hanson for "L.A. Confidential" in 1997, has no restraints when it comes to a legend that began in 9th century medieval oral history.

So forget what you know about Douglas Fairbanks as the hooded crusader in 1922 ("Robin Hood"), Errol Flynn in 1938 ("The Adventures of Robin Hood") and Sean Connery in 1976 ("Robin and Marian").  I trust you've already filed Kevin Costner's wobbly British accent in "Robin Hood:  Prince of Thieves" (1991) so far back in your memory bank that it couldn't reemerge even if you wanted it to.

This "Robin Hood" is essentially a prequel; Robin the Hood back story.  Once the skilled archer gets out of the stocks (for mouthing off to the king) and bonds with a handful of loyal rowdy followers (the Merry Men), the mission begins to return the fallen king's helmet to the Queen Mother (Eileen Atkins).

Robin, who grew up without a father, also agrees to return a dying prodigal son's sword to the doomed soldier's father.  That may seem like a lot of chores for a future hero of Sherwood Forest to bog himself down with.  But since this movie ends where most Robin Hood flicks begin (Sequel anybody?), there's no plot-point agenda.

Marion, tough and no one's damsel in distress as portrayed by Blanchett, turns out to be the revered old man's (Von Sydow) daughter-in-law.  Only in the movies does a stranger move into a lady's bedroom and pose as her husband to keep peace in the land.  That works fine for a day or two.  But then the need to scratch the old Scott-Crowe itch kicks in, and ferocious battles rage with lives and, in fact, England itself on the line.

"Robin Hood" squeezes in a wee bit of merriment.  Mark Addy ("The Full Monty"), who toned down his British accent a little to star in the U.S. sitcom "Still Standing," earns some laughs as mead-swilling Friar Tuck.  William Hurt plays it serious as Sir William Marshal, though, turning in one of his finest performances in years.  And Mark Strong (Lord Blackwood in "Sherlock Holmes") is about all anyone needs as nasty villain Sir Godfrey.

At two hours and 20 minutes, "Robin Hood" indulges itself too long on screen.  Technically it's on target, though, if you appreciate boiling oil dumped on soldiers and enough flying arrows to block out the sun at times.  Generally, however, Scott and Crowe are both on top of their  game.

And the game here is tweaking a mystery folk hero into a bankable new epic movie franchise.

'Dear John': Cheesy to the letter

Life is a beach for John (Channing Tatum) and Savannah (Amanda Seyfried).

(Screen Gems)

Dear John

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Running time: 102 minutes

MPAA rating: PG-13 (profanity, adult situations)

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"Dear John"

The sappiness  almost drips off the romantic-drama "Dear John."

That surprises me a little with established, usually excellent director Lasse Hallström at the helm.

The culprit here for romance dulled by overbearing melodrama is the novelist, Nicholas Sparks.  If you thought the sappy movie versions of previous Sparks novels "Message in a Bottle" and "The Notebook" were just the right kind of tear-jerker, you'll find familiar surroundings in "Dear John."

I'm no genius.  I had a pretty good idea, however, that once preppy Southern belle Savannah Curtis (Amanda Seyfried) started sending letters overseas  to John Tyree (Channing Tatum), her U.S. Army Special Forces beau, that eventually "that letter" would arrive.  After all, every letter in this weepie begins with "Dear John."

The soldier and the college girl meet on a South Carolina beach in the early '00s.  She's on spring break.  He's home to visit his quirky, reclusive father  (Oscar nominee Richard Jenkins). They fall in love quickly, but vow to spend the rest of their lives together, after John's Army hitch is up in about a year.  

The terrorist attacks of 9/11 change all that.  John can't walk away from his duty to country.  Savannah, however, is more of a mindset that a deal's a deal.  Uh, oh.  Who can't feel a certain "poison pen" moment looming?

Can this exercise in pulp friction actually be coming from the same talented Swedish director who orchestrated heart-breaking drama so well in "The Cider House Rules" (1999) and had our hearts on a leash with "My Life As a Dog" in the mid-'80s?

"Dear John," while not quite as silly as novelist Sparks' "Message In a Bottle" or, for that matter, "The Notebook," wastes not only our time, but the time of Jenkins, the excellent actor of "Burn After Reading" and "The Visitor."

Once Texas native Henry Thomas (The "E.T." kid all grown up and doing some good work) shaves the beard and is recognizable, he's pretty good as Tim.  He's the needy single father at the beach house next door who's sort of biding his time when it comes to companionship.  

No pity is necessary for the two young leads.  Seyfried, on screen recently in "Jennifer's Body," and Tatum ("G.I. Joe"), the latest in a long line of stone-faced semi-actors, are simply two young actors looking for work.

With a little luck, their next outings will provide a little more substance for them, and for us as well.       

'Avatar' reignites Cameron's epic movie magic

Neytiri (Zoë Saldana), left and Jakesully (Sam Worthington) unite to save the Na'vi homeland.  (20th Century Fox)

Avatar

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Running time: 150 minutes

MPAA rating: PG-13 (extreme action violence, profanity, sensuality, smoking)

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"Avatar"

James Cameron doesn't simply make movies.  He relentlessly innovates and pushes the art form forward.

"Avatar," the Oscar winner's first narrative feature since "Titanic" in 1997, fills the screen as the first perfect blend of computer-generated special effects, animation and meaningful human acting in the history of cinema.

We can add the most effective use of 3-D as well.  Although "Avatar" will be available in both 3-D (for a slight premium, of course) and standard 2-D, I highly recommend spending the extra buck or two in this instance.  The added dimension makes sense for a futuristic sci-fi fantasy adventure that unfolds in 2154.  That's especially the case when the action unfolds on a vegetation-filled lush moon called Pandora 4.4 light years away from a seriously energy depleted Earth.

If you've been anywhere near a television set or movie theater in the past month or so, you already know that "Avatar" features 10-foot-tall blue-skinned indigenous natives who don't take kindly to Earthlings bull-dozing their precious rain forest.  The unwelcome interlopers are in search of a rare mineral that might hold the key to Earth's dire 22nd century energy crisis.

What you might not know going in is that the script, written by director Cameron, very smartly uses all the innovative gadgets, but only as elements of what Cameron calls his "tool box."

The motion capture filming process, where actors perform with sensors all over their body, but enhanced here to include intimate facial expression,  effectively inserts key actors under the alien skin.  Animation makes their tails sway in sync with the bodies, and 3-D -- never, ever used as a jump-out-at-the-audience gimmick -- makes an exotic, animal-filled, vividly colored, computer-generated alien world appear to actually exist.

The story itself is a bit of a pulp fiction sawhorse.  The filmmaker admits as much.  This time, though, when the newcomer (Sam Worthington) rides into a foreign land and mingles with the locals, it's not Kevin Costner going native with the Sioux in "Dances With Wolves), it's a wheelchair bound ex-Marine whose mind is inserted into a lab-created Na'vi body.

Jake Sully (Worthington), or Jakesully as the natives refer to him, is on a scientific mission headed by Grace (Sigourney Weaver) to learn the secrets of communing with nature.  That would make a fascinating little story.  But it that would also deprive Cameron the fun of bombastic conflict, and perhaps some not-so-veiled comments on this country interloping on other lands for precious resources.

Col. Miles Quaritch (Stephan Lang of "The Men Who Stare at Goats," "Public Enemies") and the greedy bottom-line-profit-driven corporate project leader Carter Selfridge (excellent actor Giovanni Ribisi, also in "Public Enemies") set the stage for mortal combat quite effectively.

At the heart of "Avatar," however is a totally believable love story.  And it doesn't merely involve a former Marine who gets a second chance at movable legs, albeit long and skinny and alien, who falls hard for Na'vi princess warrior Neytiri (Zoë Saldana of the "Star Trek" remake).  Saldana deserves an Oscar nomination for a superbly human performance in what amounts to an alien body.

A film this creative, this spectacular, this perfectly performed comes along once in a blue moon, or whenever Cameron gets the itch to innovate on the highest creative scale again.

I hate to be the one to say it, but if "Avatar" catches fire at the box office, Cameron could be headed for another one of those embarrassing Academy Award night outbursts at the winner's podium:

"I'm the king of the other-world, too!"

Onward saddened soldiers

"Angels of death" Woody Harrelson, left, and Ben Foster.  (Oscilloscope Laboratories)

The Messenger

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Running time: 112 minutes

MPAA rating: R (profanity, adult situations, nudity)

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"The Messenger"

They park down the block.  That way their target has no idea it's their lives that are about to be drastically altered.

Woody Harrelson and Ben Foster don't portray burglars, murderers or even rapists in the riveting drama "The Messenger."

Instead, officers Will Montgomery (Foster) and Tony Stone are assigned to the Army's Casualty Notification service.

They are grim reapers.  Casually, they refer to themselves and others like them as angels of death.  When a soldier falls in Iraq or Afghanistan, the knock on the door comes from these stern-faced soldiers of mercy.

Arriving in theaters in the wake of the Fort Hood, TX shooting rampage, which left 13 dead and over two dozen wounded on Nov. 5, one of this year's most powerful dramas will likely electrify emotional nerve endings with a heavier charge than it might otherwise.

Harrelson, on screen recently in the outrageous comic monster-mash "Zombieland," can also bring it as a dramatic actor.   The veteran actor from Midland is the perfect seemingly hard-edged vet to star opposite Foster's mentally tortured returning war hero.

Will's got three months left to serve.  The fact that his girlfriend Kelly (Jena Malone) hooked up with a new fiancé when he was half a world away taking shrapnel in the eye weighs heavy on Will's heart as he delivers emotional knock-out punches to strangers.

Foster, so convincing as  trigger-happy gunslinger Charlie Prince in the 2007 remake of "3:10 to Yuma," doesn't make a single false move or bad acting choice as Will.

Oren Moverman, who co-wrote Todd Haynes' "I'm Not There," turns out to be a first-time director who knows his way around drama.  Moverman also co-wrote this gripping screenplay with experienced producer Alessandro Camon.

Even with such a compelling story to tell, outstanding acting all around and more than adequate work from the director's chair, there's another element of note.  "The Messenger" rises to a higher level every time Samantha Morton enters the frame as Olivia Pitterson, a stunned recent war widow.  

Will and Olivia connect on a level that transcends sexual attraction, or even empathy.  It's complicated, as they say, and Foster and Morton pull off the difficult acting assignment beautifully.

Morton is a two-time Oscar nominee for "In America" (2002) and Woody Allen's "Sweet and Lowdown" (1999).  Anyone who witnesses this deeply nuanced performance as Olivia will have no problem understanding why.

Clooney loony in failed military dramedy

George Clooney, left, and Ewan McGregor run into "Goat" trouble.  (Overture Films)

The Men Who Stare at Goats

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Running time: 93 minutes

MPAA rating: R (profanity, drugs, brief nudity)

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"The Men Who Stare at Goats"

Invest in "The Men Who Stare at Goats" and you'll spend most of your time staring at a dog; a dog of the week.

George Clooney's first starring vehicle of the fall/winter movie season falls flatter than a poorly prepared pancake.  Take heart, though, Clooney fans.  "Up In the Air," Clooney's other '09 entry opening next month, is funny, insightful and pretty much perfect.

But first this offbeat hippie-dippy military intelligence tale that opens with, "More of this is true than you would believe."

Fine.  I only wish more of it was funny, or clever or intriguing enough to hold an audience's attention.

Clooney may have second thoughts about handing off the directing reins for "Goats" to Grant Heslov, Clooney's producing/writing partner in Smokehouse Productions.

I'm not sure anyone could turn Jon Ronson's non-fiction best seller of paranormal activity, "The Men Who Stare at Goats," into anything resembling mainstream movie entertainment.  Rambling and mind-numbing boring most of the time, it follows an Ann Arbor, Mich. newspaper reporter (Ewan McGregor) as he follows former military intelligence guy (Clooney) into Iraq on a bumbling secret mission in 2003.

As this disappointing movie experience slowly revealed itself to be the waste of time it is, I couldn't help thinking of some military comic satires that got it right:  "Dr. Strangelove," of course.  But there's also Robert Altman's big-screen version of "M*A*S*H" and, more recently, "Wag the Dog."  

Clooney has been to Iraq before on the big screen.  He was following a map in search of gold shortly after the first Gulf War in David O. Russell's "Three Kings" of 1999.  Clooney's Lyn Cassady, a shadowy figure who can stare a goat to death, has no clue where he's headed this time.

That's strange since the shining star of an experimental U.S. military unit -- a unit of hippies, really -- led by "shaman" Bill Django (Jeff Bridges, who deserves better) can bust up clouds just by staring at them.

As Clooney and McGregor (as reporter Bob Wilton) wander the Iraqi sands (actually, New Mexico), they encounter key figures in a puzzle without plausibility or sustained interest.  Sadly, Heslov shows no reason why he should hop into a director's chair again anytime soon.

The director even fails to seize an opportunity for an easy laugh.  Clooney's New Age mental soldiers are referred to as Jedi Warriors.  Since McGregor played Jedi Warrior Obi-Wan Kenobi in three "Star Wars" prequels, why not a little wink-at-the-audience fun?

Kevin Spacey, a two-time Oscar winner ("American Beauty," "The Usual Suspects"), takes on renegade psychic Larry Hooper, while Robert Patrick ("Balls of Fury," "Terminator 2"), the nicest cinematic bad guy you'll ever meet, smiles while a firefight erupts around him.

These actors, from Clooney on down, are all near-death wanderers in the desert.  Water would be nice, but the only thing that can really save them is a coherent script.  That never pops up.

Not even as a mirage.

'Inglourious Basterds' any film buff must meet

Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) is looking for Nazi scalps.  (The Weinstein Co.)

Inglourious Basterds

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Running time: 152 minutes

MPAA rating: R (extreme graphic violence, profanity, brief sexuality)

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"Inglourious Basterds"

It took Quentin Tarantino two episodes to "Kill Bill," but only one glorious -- or "glourious" -- one to change the course of history.

"Inglourious Basterds," as skewed in style as the misspelled title implies, is a devilishly clever, sometimes comic and brutally violent fable that envisions a revisionist outcome of World War II as only Tarantino can.

Who else but the movie fanatic-turned-filmmaker who gave us the stylized heist drama "Reservoir Dogs" (1992), the comic crime-thriller "Jackie Brown" (1997) and Tarantino's first masterwork, "Pulp Fiction" (1994), would take it upon himself to serve up World War II revenge cinema for the Allies in general and Jews in particular?

I call "Pulp Fiction," which raised the bar on crime-comedy, Tarantino's first masterwork.  That's because "Inglourious Basterds" -- all two hours and 32 minutes of it -- is the outrageous writer-director's second.

Brad Pitt is the marquee name at the top of a brilliantly selected cast list.  The Oscar nominee earlier this year for "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is only part of this story, though.

Tarantino rolls out his larger-than-life comic-drama in chapters.  By the time the end credits roll, you'll be wanting to know more about Austrian actor Christoph Waltz, who portrays Nazi Jew hunter Col. Hans Landa, and French actress-filmmaker Mélanie Laurent, just to mention a couple.

Laurent portrays Shosanna Dreyfus, owner of a Paris movie house.  She escapes Col. Landa once only to become entwined in his deadly spider web a second time.

When we meet Pitt, he's Lt. Aldo Raine.  Sporting a mustache, a goofy grin and a hillbilly accent, Lt. Raine heads what might today be called a "special ops" team of Jewish-American soldiers.

The mission is not only to infiltrate enemy lines in Occupied France.  It even goes beyond brutally killing any German soldiers they encounter.  Aldo wants Nazi scalps.  Lots of them.  And when his "dirty dozen," including "Hostel" filmmaker Eli Roth and B.J. Novak of "The Office," aren't gleefully taking scalps, The Bear Jew (Roth) is beating Nazis to death with a baseball bat.

Welcome to Quentin Tarantino's heightened reality redux of World War II.

As the story unfolds in what can only be described as the filmmaker's unique, signature grandiose style, the gifted ensemble is headed for shared screen time at -- what else? -- a glamorous movie premiere.

Tarantino's love for the art of cinema permeates every frame.  An early scene where Col Landa inspects a French farm house that might be hiding Jews is, without a doubt, the finest scene on any movie screen in years.  The Col., portrayed to perfection by Waltz (who could march right into an Oscar nomination), toys with his prey like a cunning fox in no hurry to pounce.

The closing sequence, which will not even be hinted at here, elevates Tarantino and his cast to an unsurpassed artistic level blending an operatic style and visual perfection with kill-thrill mayhem.

Excuse me while I gush, which I rarely do, but:

Gloury, gloury, halleluujah!  "Inglourious Basterds" is Quentin Tarantino's new pulp fiction masterwork.

Hot-wired

Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner) disarms a bomb. (Summit Entertainment)

The Hurt Locker 

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Running time: 130 minutes

MPAA rating: R (harsh profanity, extreme war violence)

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"The Hurt Locker"

Can you imagine any job more dangerous than bomb de-activator?

I can after digging my fingernails into the armrests for over two hours watching Kathryn Bigelow's "The Hurt Locker."

The job?  Working on the bomb squad in Baghdad as the dust begins to settle on the Iraqi War.

I can honestly say that I've felt this kind of sustained, shoulder-tightening tension in a movie theater only once before.  That was in 2004 when a 30-something couple, left behind by their diving boat, were terrorized by circling sharks in "Open Water."

Ironically, "The Hurt Locker," which lingers a little too long on screen, also unfolds in 2004. 

 

Yet Bigelow, working from the screenplay of former embedded journalist Mark Boal, rivets the audience to the screen with a heart-pounding saga of a special bomb unit of Army's Bravo Company.

We get an ominous glimpse of real danger as Bigelow, shooting in the Jordanian desert instead of Baghdad, sets things up with a tedious, tension-packed  introduction.

The gripping main-story drama begins to unfold when Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner) arrives to assume the position of the bomb unit's Blaster 1. 

 

A loose cannon who snips roadside bomb wires with the expertise of MacGyver but the doom-inviting nonchalance of "Saturday Night Live's" MacGruber, Sgt. James quickly alienates his fellow squad members Sgts. J.T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty) with his cavalier style.

James' brashness impresses the Army brass, however.

The key to "The Hurt Locker's" ability to keep the audience so rippled with tension is twofold.  Bigelow mixes the fresh faces of her key trio of players with familiar ones.  Ralph Fiennes, David Morse and Guy Pearce come and go in cameo.

Bigelow is almost as cavalier as her character James in that she's not afraid to take a chance.  The veteran filmmaker ("Strange Days," "Point Break") introduces grisly combat reality to her entire cast with total disregard for star power.

Speaking of Sgt. James, Renner ("28 Days Later," "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford") has no problem walking the delicate line between bravado and intense confidence.  His performance alone makes this modern war drama worth the price of admission.

The drawing power's also in the drama and authenticity.  That makes "The Hurt Locker" a must-see for anyone who's a student of modern combat in general and the tormented psyche of an occupied Iraq in particular.