The Dark Knight revisited

By the time you read this, you will probably have seen The Dark Knight Rises - and by the time I post this, I will definitely have seen it. I'd meant to finish this post before it was released, and when I first started writing it, I was feeling pretty pumped for the movie. The Dark Knight is my choice for greatest comicbook superhero movie of all time, and I'll say it upfront: it's a 5-starrer for me. So hell to the yeah, its sequel and conclusion to Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy is a film I am hugely anticipating, in a year that has already seen a pretty great The Avengers, a disappointing Prometheus, and will bring The Hobbit and the new James Bond movie Skyfall in coming months. So here's my Retro Review of the first two in the trilogy - but I'll say it upfront, I could not possibly do a better job than ComicsAlliance's excellent and exhaustively in-depth commentary on both of them. Seriously, those are required reading for any Bat-fan, and I shall have to strive mightily to say anything about these movies that Chris Sims, David Uzumeri and Andy Khouri did not cover already.


Batman Begins (2005)
My rating:




I remember being somewhat underwhelmed by this movie when I first saw it - probably because I saw it on an IMAX dome screen. Which, I believe, is a particular kind of IMAX screen that I can attest is far from the best way to watch a movie, particularly action movies. (Yes, I know Christopher Nolan is a pioneer in shooting his movies in the IMAX format. That only started from The Dark Knight onwards, and again, not for dome screens.) Despite that, I knew I was watching something good. Batman Begins made its initial impression by being a complete tonal 180 from Joel Schumacher's, and even Tim Burton's, treatments of the classic DC superhero - a film that takes the Batman mythology entirely seriously, and creates a world in which a man who dresses up as a bat to fight crime on the streets is entirely believable, and a story of such can take itself entirely seriously. This film is Exhibit A in my theory that the most important thing for a comicbook superhero film to get right is tone.

It is also first and foremost an origin story - which, incidentally, the 1989 Batman was not. Burton's first movie started with Bruce Wayne having already become Batman, and the formative murder of his parents childhood told through flashbacks. Batman Begins also employs a flashback-heavy, non-linear structure (at least in its first half) - but the present-day sequences starts with Bruce in a Chinese prison, slumming it in a rather vague and aimless attempt to "understand the criminal underworld." That is until he is introduced to Ducard, Ra's Al Ghul and the League of Shadows, their philosophy, not to mention their kickass ninja training - which is only one of many things that set him on his destiny. Where the film succeeds more than anything else is as an exploration of Bruce Wayne's psychology, and how his motivations and inspirations for becoming Batman are far more complex than merely a childhood tragedy. And Nolan's and David S. Goyer's screenplay is just as satisfyingly intelligent, emotionally and thematically.

It is certainly more successful as a character study than as an action movie. Oh don't get me wrong, there are plenty of action scenes. It's a full hour in before Batman makes his fully-costumed entrance, but before then the pace is propelled by some deliberately terse editing (the thing that noticed most on this rewatch). The new Batmobile, a.k.a. the Tumbler, is way cool; hang the naysayers, I can no longer imagine Batman operating any vehicle that has fins or wings or is anything other than ruthlessly utilitarian. But Nolan has always been criticised for being terrible at filming fight scenes, and this one has a lot more hand-to-hand fights than The Dark Knight - and yes, they're all messy and dull. Also, there's something about Jim Gordon driving the Tumbler that doesn't sit right with me; I think it undercuts Batman's mystique. And finally, the big evil villainous plan that Batman must foil at the end strains the credibility - and credulity - that Nolan had been so carefully building up throughout the film.

But although it's a movie that didn't grab me the first time, it is one which greatly rewards rewatching. It treats a comicbook superhero with more respect, intelligence and depth than ever before, not to mention the finest cast ever in a comicbook superhero movie. Christian Bale and Michael Caine get all the credit, but the other thing I just noticed most is Cillian Murphy's deliciously creepy, just-ever-so-slightly-unhinged Dr. Jonathan Crane a.k.a. the Scarecrow. Yes, the sole exception to the otherwise fantastic acting is Katie Holmes, although more because she was out of her depth than actively bad; she does get one great scene when she learns Bruce intended to murder Joe Chill. And the A-list cast is just part of the overall top-notch filmmaking on display here. (Wally Pfister's cinematography, man.) I still wish it was a more viscerally exciting film - and I would've probably liked it more if it weren't for that damn IMAX dome screen - but as a reboot of the cinematic Batman, this is probably as good as anyone could expect.


The Dark Knight (2008)
My rating:




I'm slightly ashamed to admit that when I first watched the 1989 Batman, I found it genuinely scary. Slightly ashamed because, as time and Nolan has proven, that movie was actually quite campy and not at all a "dark and serious" portrayal of Batman that people thought it was. I chalk it up to it being my first introduction to Burton's macabre style; also, 13-year-old TMBF was probably just a wimpy little kid. I was reminded of that experience watching The Dark Knight as a grown man and functioning adult. This movie was practically as terrifying as a horror movie. I left the cinema shaken and disturbed, knowing that I had watched a great film but not at all keen on watching it again anytime soon. I did rewatch it for this Retro Review of course, and of course on rewatch it could no longer deliver that same sheer gut-wrenching terror. But as an amazingly, nail-bitingly tense and powerful film, it can still bring to mind how harrowing that first time was.

And a great deal of it was due to the late Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker. For all the praise that it's gotten, there isn't a thing overrated about it; everything from his hideously slipshod makeup, to his vocal delivery of his lines, to his habit of licking his lips, to even the way he walks, goes a long way toward creating an absolutely terrifying villain that very nearly turns a comicbook action movie into a horror film. But it was the screenplay, written by Nolan along with his brother Jonathan this time (Goyer gets a story credit), that started the journey. The brilliantly twisty opening bank heist scene - and later on, the pencil trick, oh God the pencil trick - establish what an implacable force of nihilistic chaos he is. Always several steps ahead of Gordon and even Batman, who are near-helpless most of the time to counter him; even when he's been captured, beating and torturing him does no good, and killing him would only mean he wins. He's damn near undefeatable.

Of course, the Nolans find a way to defeat him in the end, and let me go on record saying that the finale with the two ferries was brilliant. The entire film was brilliant, both as a relentless action thriller (making up for the pacing problems with Batman Begins, and how) and a dense, weighty, tightly-written story that juggles multiple themes and character arcs and even flirting with timely social and political issues. I won't delve into them here; there are other places on the net you can go for that. (Again, I recommend ComicsAlliance's excellent five-part review.) But to make a poignant character study and an incisive political satire within the bounds of a comicbook superhero movie is ballsy beyond belief - and that its political themes mesh so well with Batman is ingenious beyond belief. The fact that both sides of the U.S.'s left-wing/right-wing divide went on to claim the film as a champion for their particular viewpoints only goes to show how well it works as a mirror to the fears of post-911 American (and world) society.

But above all, it is an amazingly effective film that had me riveted from practically the first minute. The Tumbler/Batpod chase, a new contender for best car chase scene of all time. The shocking and, to me, completely unexpected death of Rachel Dawes. The bravura performance of Aaron Eckhart, unfairly overlooked in the wake of the (rightful) acclaim given to Ledger. Its depiction of an entire city gripped in terror by the machinations of a single madman. I can still vividly recall how I felt watching it, and in particular how I felt after watching it - shaken, disturbed, emotionally and physically exhausted ('cos of how tensed-up my body had been for 2-½ hours), and speechlessly awed. It is an improvement in almost every way over Batman Begins (Maggie Gyllenhaal should've played Rachel from the beginning), which was already a fresh and fascinating new take on Batman. This one takes it to a level never before seen in a comicbook superhero movie, and may never be seen again.

-----

Yes, I know it's taken me ages to write this, just as it's taken me almost as long to write my The Dark Knight Rises review; it's hard for me to wrap this up without including my thoughts on the trilogy's concluding chapter in here. But what's clear is that with two movies alone, Nolan has elevated the genre to the level of not just great Batman movies, but great movies period that are also Batman movies. The label of "great movies that happen to have Batman in them" are also bandied about, but it implies that Batman is a secondary element - or that Nolan is not a true Batman fan and merely used the character as an excuse vehicle to make his own crime thriller films. I'll have no truck with that kind of fanboy carping. What Nolan has done is not just to adapt existing Batman comics (even if Batman Begins and The Dark Knight drew inspiration from classic stories such as Batman: Year One, The Long Halloween and The Killing Joke), but to reinvent and reinterpret them - as comics often do - to tell wholly new Batman stories. Or to be precise, a single wholly new Batman story, in a trilogy of films. So yeah, let's get down to The Dark Knight Rises already.

Now THIS is a romantic comedy

(500) Days of Summer
My rating:




Sometimes I think there really are Movie Gods who listen to beleaguered film critics' prayers. Having watched three lame romantic comedies that trade genuine emotional truth for contrived wackiness, after a full month of movies that ranged from so-so to downright awful, along comes a wonderful little film that made it all worthwhile. (500) Days of Summer was one of my most eagerly anticipated films of the year; I went in to watch it with sky-high expectations.

And hot damn, it met them.

Tom Hansen (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) meets and falls in love with Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel). But whereas he's a hopeless romantic, she doesn't believe in love and tells him upfront that she doesn't want a serious relationship. After they break up, Tom is devastated; he looks back on their time together to find out where it went wrong, and how to win her back.

First of all, this is a quirky little film. The narrative jumps back and forth through time; we start at Day 1 when Summer first joins the greeting card company where Tom works as a writer, then we're at Day 200-or-so when she breaks up with him. We're constantly shuttling back and forth between the first blissful days of their affair and Tom's bleak depression after the end of it, plus the part in between when their relationship starts to sour. The film employs the irony inherent in the juxtaposition between past and present to terrific effect, earning both laughs and pathos - and sometimes both. There's a split-screen sequence in which each half of the screen is labeled "Expectations" and "Reality", and it is both funny yet painful - for Tom.

And besides split-screens, there's a song-and-dance sequence, parodies of arty Swedish films, references to TV shows from the '80s, a narrator, and that constant counter that tells us which day it is. There's even a hilariously bitter "disclaimer" right in the very beginning that tells us we're in for an unconventional movie. The entire film has an easy-going playfulness that director Marc Webb handles with a remarkably sure hand, without ever selling short the deeper emotions that underlie the story. Unlike most rom-coms that attempt to balance the viewpoints of both halves of the romantic pairing, this is Tom's story throughout. We view Summer and his relationship with her entirely through his eyes, and those eyes are given to the occasional flight of fantasy.

But above all, this film is true. It's amazing how a cast and crew who have no idea who you are could take precisely your feelings and experiences and little heartbreaks and turn them into a 90-minute movie - a movie that has the same effect on everyone who watches it. This is why I love film in the first place; it's a medium that can identify and portray things that are truly universal about the human condition, which shows us we're all really not so different after all. I cannot imagine anyone watching this movie and not having at least one "OMG that's me!" moment. If you can say you've never experienced anything like what Tom goes through, you're either lying or incredibly unself-aware. (I'm not in the least surprised to learn that co-screenwriter Scott Neustadter based the script on a bad breakup experience of his own.)

Is there even a need to talk about the cast? They're all fantastic; Gordon-Levitt, Deschanel, Geoffrey Arend and Matthew Gray Gubler as Tom's friends, and Chloe Moretz as Tom's precocious younger sister. Most of all, they're effective; the characters are so well-drawn, the script so well-written, that they only need to not screw it up. There's a scene in which Summer opens up to Tom, telling him the most intimate details of her life. It's a typical rom-com they're-starting-to-fall-in-love scene - there's a similar one in The Proposal - but this film takes it one step further. Because when Summer's telling him those things, he's not even listening. What this says about him, what it means for their relationship, is only one reason why this film pwns every other Hollywood rom-com this year and exposes them for the superficial wish-fulfillment fantasies they are.

Thanks and apologies are in order to 20th Century Fox Malaysia; you're not so bad after all. You could stand to be a little more confident about it though, and show it in more than just one cinema (TGV Sunway Pyramid) in the whole country. Would you release it wider if it made you a lot of money? Okay then, here's how I'll help: everyone, go see this movie. It's the best romantic comedy of the year bar none. Some have called it an anti-romantic comedy, because it doesn't end on a happily-ever-after for Tom and Summer. They're wrong. It's terrifically funny, it's wonderfully romantic, and it's real and true and honest in ways we've been conditioned to think romantic comedies don't need to be. See it, and see how lame the typical Hollywood rom-com is.

Seriously. Go see it. Everyone. Now.

Update: Rating revised to reflect my new five-star rating scale.

NEXT REVIEW: Surrogates
Anticipation level: fingers crossed

Pixar 10, lousy movies 0 (pt. 2)

The Incredibles (2004)
My rating:




The only one I didn't have to rewatch for this retrospective - because I've seen it so many times already, it's still fresh in my head. This one is, for my money, the absolute best Pixar movie, and one of the best superhero movies of all time, period. (And I certainly wouldn't mind watching it again anyway, but writing these reviews is taking long enough as it is.)

The Incredibles was a big departure for Pixar in many ways. No more anthropomorphic critters, for one - the characters are all human. The first to garner a PG rating, for another, due to the action scenes in which people actually die. But this is as befits a bona fide costumed superhero movie with a touch of James Bond. The action scenes are far and away the best of any superhero film to date; the endlessly imaginative ways in which its varied superpowers are employed puts many a live-action comicbook adaptation to shame. (Yeah, go ahead and look sheepish, X-Men Origins: Wolverine.) But it also has plenty of heart to go with the action. The Parr family is terrifically well-developed - the love between husband and wife, the bickering between brother and sister, the pride of the father in his son, and the mother's faith in her daughter. It's amazing how the film handles all these relationships and does justice to each one.

Another huge departure for Pixar is bringing in outsider Brad Bird to helm his own film. Bird was largely known for making The Iron Giant, a critically-acclaimed but financially unsuccessful animated film. (I saw it, I love it, if you haven't seen it, see it.) This was their most daring leap of faith in their commitment towards keeping themselves from getting complacent, and it paid off magnificently. There's not a single thing in here that doesn't work, and many that are simply brilliant. Edna Mode. Samuel Jackson as Frozone. Dash's chase scene. Elastigirl's desperate attempts to evade the missile. The villain, Syndrome. The final battle scene against the robot. This movie absolutely deserves its four stars - and like all of my four-star films, if you don't like it, you are no friend of mine.


Cars (2006)
My rating:




The closest thing to a disappointment from Pixar (A Bug's Life gets a pass because it was only their second), although most people who say so are quick to disclaim that it's still better than most movies, animated or live-action. I'll say the same, but it's easy to see how this one's a step down from their usual standard - it's slow. It's not their first to come close to 2 hours - that would be The Incredibles - but it's the first to feel too long. Way too much time is spent on Lightning McQueen's stay in Radiator Springs, and there's a definite sense that director (and Pixar Chief Creative Officer) John Lasseter got too indulgent on this one.

Still, it's hard to fault it for the things it indulges in. The story of an arrogant and superficial young punk who finds humility, friendship, and something to believe in besides himself, is still genuinely affecting. The long, sweeping shots across landscapes are beautiful, especially McQueen's and Sally's drive; they highlight the fact that there really is nothing that Pixar can't animate and make it look gorgeous. The racing scenes are influenced by NASCAR, which was probably a lot of fun to fans of NASCAR. The entire film is a loving tribute to Route 66, a slice of Americana that means nothing to me, perhaps because I'm not American. Car freaks and gearheads would find a lot to enjoy - oh by the way, I drive a piece of junk that I treat solely as a means of getting from A to B. Just thought I'd share.

It's still a Pixar movie, so it's still funny, clever, heartwarming, and great entertainment. Owen Wilson's performance neatly walks the fine line between likable and annoying, the way the final race ends is brilliant, and the bit with the Kenny G song is the funniest joke in the whole movie. And the way they turn motor vehicles into characters, with relatable personalities and recognizable emotions, is pretty amazing. There's as much to admire here as any other Pixar film - there just isn't as much to enjoy.


Ratatouille (2007)
My rating:




It's getting seriously hard to decide between three-star and three-and-a-half-star ratings for Pixar films. After much thought, I'm giving Ratatouille three, but it's probably the best of the three-star lot. It's not as emotionally engaging as Toy Story 2 or Finding Nemo or Up, but it's more sophisticated than Monsters, Inc. and more consistently fun than Cars. In fact, Anton Ego's speech at the end almost earned it another half-star. As a critic myself, I may be somewhat biased.

It's remarkable how many themes this movie takes on, and for the most part it does them justice. One is how two species - humans and rats, no less - can learn to overcome their prejudices and respect each other. Another is of finding balance between where you come from and what you're yearning for, as depicted by how Remy is torn between his rat nature and his passion for cooking. And the third is how talent is often repressed and must be given the opportunity to shine - which is a theme also present in The Incredibles. (One wonders if Brad Bird has an axe to grind.)

This film went through a somewhat troubled production. Bird was brought in to replace its previous director Jan Pinkava, who was all but fired from the job. It's probably a miracle that the final product is as seamless as it is. The romance between Linguini and Colette is somewhat underdeveloped, as is the character of Linguini himself. And it seems a little contrived when Remy starts to resent Linguini getting all the credit. But these are easy to overlook. It makes cooking, running a gourmet kitchen, and facing the judgement of a food critic into a grand adventure, and if anyone thought Cars signalled the beginning of Pixar's decline, this film shut them up and made them eat ratatouille.


WALL-E (2008)
My rating:




I had expected to give WALL-E three-and-a-half-stars, based on what I remember from seeing it last year. But after watching it again, I'm glad to concede that this film is pretty damn close to flawless. There's nothing in here that doesn't work, nothing that doesn't hold up to a second viewing, and no way that it could fail not only to entertain but to enchant. It doesn't unseat The Incredibles as my favourite Pixar movie, but it's definitely another four-starrer.

I've made no secret of my preference for the Pixar films that explore a particular human insight, and succeeds at engaging both the heart and mind while doing so. WALL-E doesn't; the romance between the titular protagonist and EVE is no more complex or mature than the Sulley-Boo relationship in Monsters, Inc. But these are robots, who barely speak and don't even have faces. Yet they can display - and evoke - the full range of human emotion, including falling in love. The outer space "dance" scene is magical; the kind of magic that made me love film in the first place. There's more genuine romance between these two CGI robots than in most live-action flesh-and-blood screen couples. (That's right, The Proposal, hang your head in shame.)

Aside from being a terrific love story, it's also a sci-fi film that's aware of the satirical side of the genre. There are pointed jabs at consumerism, commercialism, environmental neglect, and how luxury encourages decadence; the intelligence with which it makes these points makes it solid science fiction. And then there's the theme of overriding one's own "programming". When EVE falls for WALL-E, she sets aside her directives for him; but he reminds her of them out of his love for her. And when he seems to revert to his own mindless trash-compactor programming, it is their love that once again restores him to his true self. It's the perfect metaphor for how passion can overcome conditioning, especially love - the greatest of human passions. This is a film that inspires it.

-----

One thing I've noticed in every Pixar movie to date is that they all reward multiple viewings - there's always something you didn't see or realise the first time, something that affects you more the second (or third, or fourth) time. Which is why I will be watching Up again, and I'm looking forward to it. One of my original titles for this retrospective was "The movie studio that can do no wrong" - they really are, and they really can't. Excellence is ingrained into them; great storytelling is SOP for them; making some of the best films of all time is simply de rigueur for them. What's truly amazing isn't that they've made ten great movies and no lousy ones - it's that they will most likely always make great movies. We are lucky - nay, blessed - to have them.

Update: I've had my second viewing of Up and updated my review. And since this retrospective has been pretty much leading up to it anyway, I can now rank all ten Pixar films by my preference.

1. The Incredibles
2. Up
3. WALL-E
4. Toy Story 2
5. Finding Nemo
6. Toy Story
7. Ratatouille
8. Monsters, Inc.
9. Cars
10. A Bug's Life

Bear in mind, the distinctions between most of these rankings are very fine. I wasn't sure where to put Toy Story 2 and Finding Nemo, I suspect I like Up more than WALL-E simply because I watched it more recently on the big screen, and both even made me reconsider The Incredibles. So allow me to disclaim once again - even Pixar's weakest movies are better movies than most. This is not a list of best to worst. It's a list of ten truly amazing films - and the fact that they all come from the same studio is what's most amazing of all.

Update: Ratings revised to reflect my new five-star rating scale.

Adventure isn't out there - it's all around you

Up
My rating:




On the one hand, it must be great to be Pixar. Having made nine of the most highly-acclaimed animated films of all time, they've literally become a guarantee of smart, heart-warming, and supremely enjoyable cinema. On the other hand, it must be tough to be Pixar. Every great movie they make raises expectations even higher for their next - it must be unimaginably difficult just to meet the sky-high standards they've set for themselves.

Yet somehow, they can still surpass them.

After a long and happy marriage that ended with his wife's death, Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) is a grumpy old man who still harbours a childhood dream - and a promise to his wife - to become an explorer and travel to the fabled Paradise Falls. He sets out to fulfill this dream by floating his entire house away on thousands of helium balloons - but a stowaway eight-year-old boy named Russell (Jordan Nagai) complicates his plans. Together they will explore "a land lost in time", encounter a giant bird and a talking dog, as well as Carl's childhood hero Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer) - who isn't as heroic as Carl thinks.

It's amazing how many things this film attempts, and how it succeeds at every single one. As an action-adventure, it has thrills and spills galore. As a comedy, it's both hilarious and clever. As an animated film, it is gorgeously realized, with character designs that are immensely likeable and better-acted than most live-action films. As a response to those who think an elderly character could never appeal to kids, it puts their naysaying to shame. And - most amazing of all - as a meditation on loss and grief, and an exhortation to live one's life to the fullest even when it seems to be over... wow.

Seriously, wow. To attempt a story of such emotional depth in an animated movie. One thing Pixar doesn't get enough credit for is their ambition, besides the superlative technical and artistic skills to meet that ambition. I've read plenty of reviews that rave about Up's first 10 minutes, and what a masterpiece of poignant storytelling it is. And it is. Nothing could spoil the heartbreaking sadness, the sheer emotional power of it. Ellie was literally the love of Carl's life, and to lose that would be a pain greater than any of us could possibly imagine, let alone bear.

And Carl doesn't only bear it - the film is about him overcoming it. For all that he loved exploring and adventure as a child, when he finally embarks on his long-awaited journey, he spends most of it refusing adventure. The giant prehistoric bird - whom Russell names Kevin - doesn't impress him. A literal talking dog named Dug is just an annoyance to him. And when adventure calls to him to help Kevin... Carl would rather live in the memory of his dead wife. How he finally comes to his senses, to choose the present over the past, to honour his wife in spirit instead of in mere form - it is brilliant, brilliant storytelling. And it's an animated movie.

But Carl isn't the only compelling character, of course. Russell's wide-eyed innocence is the catalyst for Carl's change of heart, but there's a reason why he's so eager for the old man's attention and approval. (And Nagai's performance is amazing - voice casting and direction is yet another thing that Pixar does miles better than anyone else.) Dug, being a dog, is just as eager; his antics, along with the rest of Muntz's talking dogs, highlight the Pixar knack of portraying animals with human characteristics to hilarious effect. I doubt there's any real-life bird, giant or otherwise, as affectionate and intelligent as Kevin, but nobody could possibly quibble. And Muntz
makes for an eminently hissable villain.

Is it flawless? No - but I shan't even mention its missteps, so minor are they. It does so much right, and does it so right. This is easily one of the best movies of the year, folks - incredibly funny, thrilling, heartwarming, and possessing real emotional truth - everything you can expect from Pixar, and more. I'm planning to rewatch all of Pixar's films again (and boy am I looking forward to it!) for a retrospective review, and I can safely say that my all-time favourite Pixar movie is still The Incredibles. But even if Up is not the best, it's up there. It's definitely up there.

NEXT REVIEW: the Pixar retrospective, of course. What else is worth watching right now?

Update: Yes, I watched it again. And yes. It is flawless.

Those missteps I mentioned? There were only two: firstly, I thought Russell's dismay at Carl choosing his house over saving Kevin was a little too purposeful, too calculated towards Carl's character arc. I'd felt that Russell would be more understanding. But then again, Russell never did learn why the house was so important to Carl; and furthermore, he did make Carl swear (and cross his heart) that Carl would protect Kevin. Secondly, Muntz's attempted murder of Russell seemed jarring in a family-friendly film, which was a visceral reaction more than anything else. It simply didn't bother me the second time around, and neither did the thing about Russell.

And then there's the things I only just noticed. Carl and Charles - similar-sounding names, because the film employs the time-honoured trope of hero and villain being mirror images of each other. Both made a promise in their youth, and both grew obsessed with it in their old age, to the point of losing sight of their ideals - and they both happen to have had the same ideal. Muntz traded it for glory, Carl for grief - but Carl regained it when he discovered the true meaning of it. And what is this ideal? It's in the name of Muntz's airship - the one that Carl claims as his own, to replace that which symbolized the grief that he learned to put aside. The one named after the ideal that Muntz inspired in Carl in the first place.

Like I said - brilliant, brilliant storytelling. Four stars. Undoubtedly.

Update the 2nd: Rating revised to reflect my new five-star rating scale.

Long terminator memories

So now that there's a fourth entry in the venerable Terminator series, now's as good a time as any to revisit the previous films in the franchise. I made sure to watch all 3 of them before catching the new one, so that I'm poised to judge it as a sequel as well as on its own merits. In any case, here's what I thought of them, what to expect from them, and which ones you should watch if you haven't yet.


The Terminator (1984)
My rating:




Sadly, the originator of the franchise has not aged well. Not only was it made in the '80s - and has a nightclub scene that is soooo '80s - it was made as a low-budget B-grade film, and it shows. There's a rushed, somewhat cheap feel to it that's a far cry from James Cameron's later oeuvre; the action scenes aren't particularly inventive, and the acting feels like Linda Hamilton and Michael Biehn had little time to really get into their roles. And somewhat jarringly, Arnold Schwarzenegger hadn't quite mastered that robotic emotionlessness yet.

But what shines through it all is the relentlessness and laser-sharp focus of the story. A near-indestructible robot wants to kill Sarah Connor, and although he comes from the same future, Kyle Reese seems woefully ill-equipped to protect her. In Reese's words, "it can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead." The movie is basically one long chase scene, and every time Sarah seems to have found safety, the Terminator brutally shatters that illusion. A police station full of armed officers doesn't stop it; and later, when Sarah and Kyle think they've found a safe hiding place, it uses a voice-mimicking ability to find them again in one of the film's most chilling scenes.

It's a deceptively simple formula - unstoppable bad guy chases good guys - yet it's terrifically well-executed. It's no surprise that it became a sleeper hit back in 1984, more so when it left the cinema circuit and became a bona fide blockbuster on home video. If you can overlook the dated and low-budget look of the film, you still get a suspenseful and thrilling action movie that at times comes close to horror. It's an early indicator of Cameron's mastery of combining suspense, action, plot, and characters you care about.


Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)
My rating:




Ladies and gentlemen, here is a true classic. In 50 years, movie buffs will still be raving about this film and holding it up as a near-flawless example of the action genre. It even has the distinction of being one of the very few film sequels that's better than the original.

James Cameron returned to helm this film fresh from what he learned making Aliens and The Abyss, and he learned all the right lessons. Not only did he have a budget of more than 10 times the first movie, he also brought a wealth of new ideas, new SFX techniques, and a keen sense of how to make a sequel that's true to the original yet takes us in new and unexpected directions. Thus, the villainous T-800 played by Schwarzenegger in the original is now the protector of Sarah Connor and her son John, and the bad guy is the T-1000 played by the far less physically imposing Robert Patrick.

Whoa boy, the T-1000. Gotta be up there amongst the greatest movie villains of all time. Made of "liquid metal", realized with then-pioneering CGI effects, and not only visually spectacular but used in fantastically inventive ways. From the various killing instruments it forms with its hands, to the scene where it literally rises up from the floor, the T-1000 is the epitome of SFX used in service of the story. It's cool, it's scary, and it's even more unstoppable - the T-800 seems as helpless before it as Kyle Reese from the first film.

And still it doesn't go the easy route and stick to the "one long chase scene" structure of the original. Sarah Connor, now a driven, traumatised woman, finds an opportunity to destroy the supercomputer Skynet and prevent the human-machine future war that started the whole thing from ever occuring. But it's her young son John who forms a bond with their robot protector and pulls her back from becoming a conscienceless killing machine herself. The plot is broader, and there's far greater emotional dimension here, competently performed by the actors - Edward Furlong overacts a little, but Linda Hamilton has never been better. There's a scene late in the film when the heroes go to the Cyberdyne offices, and she approaches the night guard with an utterly sweet and friendly smile... right before she whips the gun out. Now that's acting.

I can't say enough good things about this film. And the only bad thing I can think of is that the most commonly found version is the Director's Cut, with 15 minutes of additional footage. The film is slightly better without it - they're mostly character scenes and plot exposition that only slows down the pace a little without adding much. Bottom line, if you haven't seen this yet you are missing out, folks. And if you can watch it and not like it, you need never watch another action movie ever again. The entire genre simply isn't for you.


Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)
My rating:




Cameron wanted to end Terminator 2 with a coda that definitively ended the series - Judgment Day is averted, mankind is saved, and John and Sarah Connor live to ripe old ages. But producer Mario Kassar saw the possibility of more sequels, and so we have this second one - which Cameron wasn't involved with. And boy, does it show.

The early scene with Arnold and the starry sunglasses is a huge WTF - what possessed director Jonathan Mostow and his screenwriters to parody its beloved predecessor like that, we'll never know. The film largely takes itself seriously after that scene, but the damage was done - Terminator fans always cite this scene as the suckiest thing about this third film. It's not, unfortunately - the suckiest thing about it is that there's so little of the inventiveness and creativity of the first sequel.

Take the Terminatrix; having the new villain be a female Terminator seems like a natural idea, but she simply isn't as cool as the T-1000 - or even the T-800 from the first film. She has a liquid metal exterior, so she can disguise herself; she has built-in energy weapons in her hands; she can infect other machines with viruses and remote control them; and all these merely give the impression that the movie is trying too hard to make her badass. Kristanna Loken tries to inject some wicked cattiness into her performance, but gets few opportunities - she looks mean, and that's all she's good for.

I suspect a lot of cutting was done to the film and the screenplay, especially of John Connor's scenes. There are hints of a character arc for him, a transformation from a loner running away from his destiny to the leader of mankind he will ultimately become. As it is, there's barely any meat to this subplot, and Nick Stahl's milquetoast performance doesn't help - Sarah Connor's boy was never this wussy. Claire Danes doesn't impress either. It's a far more shallow film than its predecessor, and ends up feeling less like a sequel and more like a rehash - even its story beats are almost identical.

Until we get to the ending; and that's where this film earns what little goodwill it has from fans. It's pretty daring, despite being incompatible with the "the future is not set" theme of the first two films. I pretty much hated this film when I first saw it, but I've since relaxed my views. It's an effectively thrilling action movie, and the crane chase scene is still really well done. It suffers only in comparison to its predecessors; one of which, unfortunately for Mostow, is one of the best sequels ever. It may have been unfair to expect this one to be as much better than T2 as T2 was better than The Terminator - but couldn't it at least have been as good as T2? I think it could have and should have been.

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Somewhere in an alternate universe, James Cameron came back to the Terminator franchise and made T3 and T4 every bit as good as the first two. But then again, I'm pretty sure that there's also an alternate universe in which not even Cameron could live up to the success of the first two. Such are the perils of making a sequel to not just one, but two really really good movies - they rarely ever live up to expectations. I'll be keeping that in mind when I watch Terminator: Salvation - I'll do my best to give McG a fair go.