Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #88: Valhalla Rising (2009)

I've been meaning to write a review for Valhalla Rising for quite some time. I've name-dropped it in other reviews, promising that I'd one day say a bit more about it. That day is upon you.

If you read any of the reviews I posted about The Pusher Trilogy, you probably noticed that I have nothing but high praise for Danish writer/director Nicolas Winding Refn. I haven't seen anything he's touched that I haven't liked. His images are stirring and organic, and he knows how to pull interesting performances out of his actors. He seems to be able to work special magic when he's working with Valhalla Rising lead Mads Mikkelson, a guy who could very easily turn into a misused Hollywood action chump (like in the awful Clash of the Titans remake). But he's chosen some very interesting, and in the case of Valhalla, daring films to be part of. In Valhalla Rising he doesn't say a single word.

Mads is 'One Eye', a completely silent one-eyed Viking slave/prize-fighter who eventually finds himself on a ship filled with Scotsman bound for the Crusades. There's really not too much more to say about the plot.

I'd wager that anyone passing by the DVD case would be immediately mislead. It's image of a grim Viking warrior standing alone with an axe in hand might make you expect a film filled with spectacle-driven violence. It isn't. There's in fact very little violence, but what violence there is some of the grittiest, ugliest violence I've seen on a screen. Mads' screen presence is great, and though silent (not to be confused with mute), manages to present you with a startling enigma you constantly struggle to decipher in terms of emotion and motive. This movie is minimalist in its strategy in almost every way and works essentially as a thought-provoking, poetic, and captivating existential mood piece. And it's about a fucking Viking. Who knew.

So: My pick for best movie of the year (it was released in North America only recently). Might not be your cup of tea, but if anything I said tickled your fancy, watch it.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #106: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (1966)

When this year began I had the high hopes of watching 365 movies I'd never seen before, writing reviews for each one and perhaps even ranking them. It is now the beginning of December, I have written 106 reviews (less than a third of my goal) and have over 60 left to write. I suppose this is what happens when you combine life with 2 month vacations, a dash of procrastination and a sprinkle of "ooo, let's go to the market!" But, I shall do my darndest to write more this month, hopefully I shan't feel as though I've let myself down at the end of it.

At least today I have the great pleasure of relaying my thorough love and adoration of perhaps the greatest movie I've seen this year. I'm a little ashamed that I'd never seen The Good, The Bad and the Ugly before, it had been mentioned to me consistently, long before I'd ever stepped into a Film Studies degree and I only finally watched it this past June.

If you like Westerns this will be a wonderful, sparkling pinnacle of delicious; if not, you may just fall in love with them because of this movie. It's part of the "Dollars Trilogy" all starring Clint Eastwood and directed by Sergio Leone, and though Once Upon a Time in the West is still my favourite Sergio Leone Western, this one certainly ranks as "up there" in my mind.

Eastwood plays the lone hero type, without the typical characteristics of a hero. He's a bit crude, a bit mean, but I love him perhaps because of this, rather than in spite of it. Along with three other men, he is in search of a treasure buried in a man's grave, but the movie is way more than that. It is less about the gold than about everything else that happens in between: the civil war, betrayal, prison, hangings, and the music. Oh the music, and how wonderful it is. The soundtrack was written by Ennio Morricone, a man who has composed the music for so many other films, but is probably most well known for this one.

So, if I have not convinced you, please listen to all the others out there who have claimed on imdb.com that this is the 4th best films ever made. Because even if it's not that high in my opinion, it's definitely a fantastic movie worth your time and perhaps a few dollars for the rental fee.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #83: The Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954)

Still insatiable
hungry for monster movies
I watch Black Lagoon

There are embarrassingly huge gaps in my cinema history, and The Creature From The Black Lagoon has been on my 'to watch' list for years and on my mind for the past few months. Finally saw it, and was surprised by how much I liked it. Great atmosphere, great monster, and an environmental subtext I hadn't been expecting. There's a shot where the leading lady tosses an unwanted cigarette into the creature's lagoon, and the camera moves below the surface to the face of the creature, who watches silently. Thanks to how it's shot the cigarette becomes invasive, and, more importantly, insulting. This is some of the earliest environmental awareness I've seen in a Hollywood film, sci-fi fear of toxic waste and nuclear war aside. There's a scene where poison is dumped into the lagoon to force the creature out of hiding, and the comatose fish that litter the water's surface highlights the disregard for the natural world that the scientists, behaving more like hunters, are exhibiting.

The creature itself looks awesome, and the amount of understanding and sympathy we find in him makes for great monster cinema.

So: A thoroughly satisfying classic.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #103: The Maltese Falcon (1941)

When a dame walks into Sam Spade's detective office and says she's got a problem, he and his partner take interest and help her out. Unfortunately Spade's partner meets a dead end (get it?) that night and Spade has to go on without him, figuring out what several men, this dame and a statue called The Maltese Falcon have in common. It's a great detective picture and film noir - fit for its time and well worth your time. It has all you need: a beautiful woman, ugly men, Humphrey Bogart, intrigue and guns. As usual, Bogart gives a top notch performance, with the perfect mixture of charming potential lover and cynical, yet still honourable, detective. Bogart is at the epitome of his own persona in this film, along with Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep (another fantastic film.) Others in the cast include siren, dame and love interest Mary Astor, and Peter Lorre (originally László Löwenstein of Austria and Fritz Lang's M) plays his usual foreigner as Joel Cairo, who attempts to get his hands on the statue. How does the mystery resolve? Who dies and who lives? Will Spade end up with the woman or die the same way as his partner? Give this great classic a shot and find out for yourself. 

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #79: Mystery Science Theater 3000: Santa Claus (1959, MST3K Version in 1993)

Forever at war.

Not sure what MST3k is? Read this first!

Apparently Santa was not in high standing in Mexico in '59. El Santo certainly was, but Santa and Christmas were, it was felt, a distinctly American tradition that had little place in the imaginations of Mexican children. How best to sell the Santa meme to Mexico? Why, the only way to properly bridge the gap is to put Santa in the service of god! You know, make him lock horns with satan and his minions! Kid movie stuff. The MST crew have a field day.

Santa lives in a cloud fortress made of crystal and filled with surreal anthropomorphic contraptions that monitor Earth. These contraptions were made by none other than fucking Merlin. Merlin lives in the fortress with Santa. Oh, and an army of 6 year old toy-making workers from every nation on the planet. These must be the purest child-souls to be found on Earth, to be working for god's newest general in a magic cloud city. The elves are nowhere to be found, and this will be a strange movie indeed. I can only assume that they, like the angels before them, grew jealous and rebelled and were cast down amidst the fire.

Soon enough we get a bizarre sequence with Santa playing organ and singing along with each nation's representatives in turn, and let me tell you, it is a badly dubbed buffet of racial stereotyping.

I'd have to say this episode possesses one of my favourite MST3K moments to date, a moment where the clockwork reindeer, having just been awakened from their year-long slumber, begin to laugh along with a merry Santa. Now, the reindeer's jaws open and shut in a jerking, string-pulled fashion and they can never blink. Their laugh grows into what I'm sure is an unintentionally disturbing cackle, a cackle the guys of course are compelled, in the evil spirit of Christmas, to join in on. It then becomes an unholy chorus of laughter akin to the scene in Evil Dead where Ash has his first true mental breakdown.

It's possibly the most offensive MST I've seen, and certainly one of the darkest. Given the subject matter of the film in front of them, the boys aren't afraid to make fun of every national culture they can think of in the name of fairness and in step with the flick, and poke fun at the rammed down your throat religiosity and fear of hell that this film tries to install into children.

So: Pretty damn awesome. Still with a bit a Hallowe'en in the brain yet ready for Christmas, this might be perfect for you sinners.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #77: Frankenstein (1931)

So much is different from the original story that comparing the two is a pretty good waste of time. This film exists as its own entity and really has a life of its own. Of the classic monster movies I've seen to date on my Hallowe'en trek, this one is by far the best. I daresay it's a masterpiece. At its heart it contains a 'who is really the monster' dynamic that has since become awfully trite, but in its original form still potent.

As if the hints of German Expressionism wasn't enough to catch my interest, much of the acting is actually pretty good, which, given the other classic Universal horror films I've watched, was a total surprise. Boris Karloff is fantastic as the monster, and it's easy to see how, I think after this film, he became a household name. His monster is incredibly sympathetic. After a sheltered and grim life filled with torture, the monster frees himself and escapes into the woods. There's an amazing scene where he finds a little girl. The little girl hands him a flower, and they sit down by a pond. She shows him how you can throw a flower into the water and watch it float gently along. The monster is so overjoyed to find something kind and delicate and beautiful in the world that it is genuinely tear-pulling when something goes wrong. He gets up, trying his best at laughter, and throws the little girl into the water because she's like a flower too. She drowns, and it's genuinely disturbing to see the monster's panicked reaction when he doesn't understand what's happened. I hadn't felt that stirred by a movie in a long time. I was really bothered by the moment.

Made before the motion picture code was actively enforced, you get some cinema that's not afraid to upset you. While the edges will sometimes show, the violence is shocking when it wants to be, and I found myself continuously surprised by what the film was prepared to do. The film bubbles with potential violence, and by the time the mob lights their torches, the loss of control that you didn't realise was creeping into your brain reaches its apex. People shout through the streets, dogs yelp, women and children cower on the sidelines, and the beast has been loosed on the monster. It was a torch that was initially used to torture the monster, and it's unsettlingly fitting that an army of them tries to flush him out of hiding, trap him, and set him ablaze. Karloff's thrashing screams while the flames rise about him will stick with me for awhile.

Also surprising, I'm noticing that the female characters in these early monster movies aren't as helpless as I expect them to be, and I wonder if that had anything to do with the code as well. They're not neutered characters, and rigid gender roles don't seem to have been installed as safety mechanisms yet. The women in these films are just as sensible as the men, and they aren't afraid to speak their mind. In the years to come, that wouldn't be the case for quite a while. Hell, it's mostly not the case in films today.

Despite all of the injustice in the film, it's hard to really hate anyone in it save for an annoying comic relief character I'll just ignore. The monster is understandable, Dr. Frankenstein is understandable, the angry torch-wielding village folk are understandable, and even the abusive Fritz is understandable. He's a deformed hunchback that Dr. Frankenstein treated like shit. Of course he was going to whip the monster and burn him when Frankenstein wasn't looking. Nobody's really to blame in this film, which makes it so remarkable. It ends off remarkably too, with an an ironic ending that presses home the severe tragedy at the centre of the film.

So: Fantastic. I expected an iconic cheese-fest and got a dramatic masterpiece that probably made it to my list of favourite films.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #100: Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

This may be the first film I watched after getting my wisdom teeth out back in May, but I definitely remember it clearly as I often do with films I thoroughly enjoy. I'm glad that this film, my 100th, is one that I sincerely liked. 


Kind Hearts and Coronets is the story of a young man whose mother is shunned by her aristocratic family after marrying a man of lower means. As her son, Louis, grows older and his mother dies (her family denying her dying wish) he begins to plot towards inheriting his family's dukedom. The only trouble is, there are 12 others in his way.

The film has the perfect level of black humour as Louis simultaneously begins to elevate his position in society and terminate members of his rich, upper-class family, almost all played by the genius Alec Guinness. Each death is planned to comedic and undetectable perfection and Guinness's portrayal of 8 different characters ranging from a middle-aged woman to several men, young and old simply blows my mind. Of course, the complications come with women, and Louis finds himself in some potential trouble after a former lover reenters his life. As for his fate, you'll have to wait and discover it in the film's clever and artful ending, definitely one of the best I've seen in recent memory.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #75: Mystery Science Theater 3000: Night of the Blood Beast (1958, MST3K Version in 1996)

I've probably made reference to MST3k in other reviews and explained its basic concept, but now that I finally come to review one of their many, many episodes I'll give your lovely heart a refresher.

Dr. Forrester is an evil crazy-go-mad scientist who has decided that he wants to rule the world. But to do that, he is certain that he must break the will of earth's populace. The most obvious way to do this is to force them to watch the most incompetent, most embarrassing, most boring films ever made by their own feeble human hands. Naturally, this procedure should be tested first in a controlled environment. So Dr. Forrester kidnaps his laboratory janitor, Joel, and jettisons him into the seclusion of his secret space station, the Satellite of Love. He sends Joel awful movies and monitors the man's brain - but what's this? He manages to stay sane somehow! The key to Joel's survival is that he makes fun of the cinematic shit he's sent with the help of two robot friends he constructed from satellite parts. In the series, you get to watch the awful films Dr. Forrester sends with Joel and the bots riffing and cracking jokes all the while. Its like watching a terrible movie with some hilarious friends, the sort that makes any movie experience ten times better.

There's tons of episodes, and each one is an entire film minus the 15 or 20 minutes trimmed for the sake of the MST3k sketches that pepper the show. Some episodes are a great success, some are not, since some films just are so terrible that the MST crew can't win. Night of the Blood Beast, though, is fantastic. It comes from season 8 of the series and is probably one of the best episodes I've seen. Night of the Blood Beast is a Roger Corman wonder, filled with lots of dull walking scenes, awful dialogue, sci fi pontification, and rubbery alien monsters. The boys are in great riffing form, and I ended up laughing out loud, or LOLing if you will, more than once. I tend not to LOL when watching comedies, and usually just smirk and chuckle ever so slightly. This is due to the terrible burden I carry, the alien shrimps gestating within me. I identified with the astronaut in Night of the Blood Beast completely.

So: Wicked-awesome. This one features Mike instead of Joel, who is, I think, my favourite of the two Forrester victims.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #74: Babylon 5 - Season 1 (1994)

I'm sure some of you know this series well. It's a TV series that's held in pretty high esteem by a great many, myself included.

This review will be for two sorts of people. One is the sort that has seen some of the first season and said to themselves "this is a piece of shit and I hate your guts J. Michael Straczynski" and stopped watching. The other is the sort that say to themselves, every year or so, "I should probably get around to watching that crazy Babylonia 18 show that my nerd friends talk about too often."

The concept is this: Babylon 5 is earth's greatest achievement - a massive space station in distant and neutral space built to function as a centre of commerce and diplomacy between the various alien races of the galaxy. Lots of politics, fantastic character drama, and, about 2 seasons in, grand and poetic space opera of the best kind. Probably 70 percent of the series was written all at once as what creator Straczynski calls a telenovel, and benefits greatly from having had a start and finish already intricately planned by the time the pilot hit the airwaves.

Babylon 5 tries very hard not to be Star Trek, and does pretty damn well in its goal. B5 isn't afraid to give you alien races that are much more alien than your average Trek alien. Communication between alien cultures is often very strained. There's a large mantis-like insect that's top gangster in the shady areas of the station, and a tentacle-faced Cthulu-type alien that only eats decaying food because they evolved from a scavenging animal. In general, the skull shapes and faces of the alien races are a bit more varied than you're used to in other shows.

This doesn't always make for a good first impression however. You have to get over your initial knee-jerk this-is-not-like-startrek reaction and adapt to the different flavour. Star Trek has had a monopoly on sci fi television for so long that any series that isn't Star Trek wears its invisible shackles. If you had caught any episodes of the series during its run in the 90s, you probably saw a dude with hair like a paper fan and changed the channel. On its surface, and because of season 1's terrible budget, the show can look pretty silly at times. The CGI stuff didn't look good, and the sets looked dreadfully cheap. Michael O'Hare's lead act as Captain Sinclair is embarrassing, and he manages to ruin almost every scene that reaches for emotional force. Once he leaves in season 2, the series takes a serious upturn. So season 1 is pretty terrible, but there's enough important information and character set-up that unfortunately makes it necessary to watch. Now and again you'll get a winning episode, one that hints at the bigger picture to come in later seasons, but for the most part season 1 is comprised of forgettable little one-offs.

So: Placing the 'recommended' tag on this review was a strange decision, but for the awesomeness of what is to come, it must be so written. And the fan hair will grow on you once you realise how fucking awesome Londo Mollari is.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #72: Dracula (1931)

Since it's the season for witchery and other assorted evil delights, I decided to check out the Dracula Legacy Collection, which collects the classic Dracula films done by Universal Studios, the set of films that laid out the iconography of the vampire. Empty castles, long candles, winding staircases, cobwebs, capes, heavy accents. All the campy Count Dracula signifiers we now pick up from saturday morning cartoons came from that first Bela Lugosi hit.

And it's cool. It has some really memorable moments - great lines, great visuals, and some pretty engrossing scenes; my favourite being a scene where an aged Dr. Vanhelsing is visited by Dracula and told to leave. Their battle of wills is timeless, and most of it comes through in their almost archetypal posturing, a posturing that has the ring of the silent film era.

Since Hollywood really started flexing their sound film muscle in 1927 (The Jazz Singer being among a host of big '27 releases), in 1931 'talkies' were still a new art. Dracula director Tod Browning, also of Freaks fame, was pretty uneasy with sound and was one of those silent directors that kind of petered out after sound came into the picture. He had thrown in the towel by 1936.

His Dracula seems to forget that it's a sound film at times. I say his, but allegedly Browning's set presence was at near zero and most of the directing was done by the cinematographer, which might also account for the persistence of silent image over sound in the film. There are long stretches of dialogueless silence, and an insistence on capturing strong facial expression and holding the shot for emphasis. The make-up work is pure silent film, with its heavy whites and dark lips. Also, apart from the brief and orchestral 'come out to the movies' style opening credits sequence, there's no soundtrack. Not one shred, not a hot lick of music to be found in this film. While it gives the film the sensation I imagine the fish that chokingly set a first flipper on land had, it's a strangeness that works. It creates pools of tension and atmosphere that might have been ruined otherwise with unnecessary dialogue or the emotional imposition that music carries.

So: A classic treat and a fascinating look at a silent film probing into the world of sound.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #70: Pusher III: I'm The Angel of Death (2005)

The final film in the Pusher trilogy. This time we focus on Milo, the Copenhagen drug lord from the first two films. Milo, a Croatian immigrant, was seen up until now only as a looming power - friendly at first, fond of cooking and prone to culinary disasters, and vicious when crossed. By Pusher III, he is older, addicted to what he pushes, and is losing dealing ground to a new generation of would-be drug runners.

In Pusher III we get the greatest sense of desperation and waste. The amount of care you might find you have for Milo is surprising. You really want his addicts anonymous meetings to go well for him. You really want his daughter to appreciate him. You really want him to work himself out, and, most surprisingly, you really want him to kill his enemies. All this for a man that does some awful things, and makes his living on the suffering of others. That takes some pretty tactful filmmaking.

Issues of race and nationality are raised in this film much more than in the previous two films. We're given a host of immigrants trying to carve a tenuous life in the underworld of Copenhagen. Unfortunately for Milo, that means his turf. The new generation of pushers are all racially divided expats, the most threatening being a young Arab, and a rival Serbian group that attempts a passive aggressive (for the most part) takeover in a moment of weakness. Milo, being Croatian, doesn't handle this well. Or perhaps he does.

So: Same great character, dialogue, and cinematography. A great finish to a great trilogy.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #69: Pusher II: With Blood On My Hands (2004)

After loving Refn's first Pusher film, I was eager to continue. Pusher II did not disappoint, and if I had to make the hard choice, is probably the strongest film in the trilogy.

Mads Mikkelsen gets his chance to shine. I had first encountered him in that awful Clash of the Titans remake with Avatar-face McSoldierstein, and was greatly afraid that he sucked. I knew I was soon to see Mads in the unbeknownst-to-me-amazing Valhalla Rising, and feared the worst. So crappy move down, awesome movie up, I wondered what Pusher II would be like with him at centre stage. The answer to that is: Mads Mikkelsen is now an actor I will follow. I am enamoured by his screen presence and hope for some great films to come.

Pusher II is much like the first film in terms of its visual sense, pacing, and dialogue, but is certainly tighter in all fields. The budget is higher, the scope larger, the characters more complex. As with each film save the first, you really can't help but invest affection in the gangster characters. They are by no means nice people, but they are more human than one would expect, and they are beset by environments of poverty, violence, and abusive family dynamics, and every second is emotionally riveting.

So: If you see any of the Pusher films, see this one.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #67: Aeon Flux (Peter Chung, 1991)

Peter Chung’s cerebral and post-modern animated series, not that other thing from 2005 that you and I should never speak of. That which cannot be named.

The good Aeon Flux, the animated Aeon Flux, happens to feature my favourite femme fatale: the fearless, sexy, elite assassin - you guessed it - Aeon Flux. She’s deadly, anarchic, and downright impenetrable. You’re never quite sure what she’ll do, or, once she’s done something, exactly why she’s done it. She’s a stylish renegade of abstract proportions, without border or precise definition, and fiercely individual. And that’s the nature of the series on a whole. When you add a spastic, gritty and idiosyncratic animation style to the mix, you have a pretty surreal and engrossing experience on your hands.

It’s refreshing now and again to immerse yourself in an anti-story, an anti-TV series, where you’re not so much watching a story unfold as you are watching a story deconstruct and re-apply itself in liberating ways. I get the impression that like the heroine of the series, Peter Chung lives to shake things up. I thank him.

So: A wicked piece of animation, style, and paradox. Don't try to put it all together as you watch it - you're not supposed to.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #63: Metalocalypse Season 1 (2006)

So the end times really must be near, since never in my wildest imaginings would I have expected this show to grace the screens. Not even via the twisted hearts working within Cartoon Network's Adult Swim. Metalocalypse is clearly the cartoon comedy I hadn't realised I wanted.

Here's the deal: Dethklok, a death metal band, has become the most popular musical force on the planet. An album’s delay will result in world-wide rioting. Their home-base and recording studio is the size of a small country; their staff a standing army, darkly hooded and fitted with medieval weaponry. The band’s mission is to make all things metal. Clowns, sea-life, coffee, doorknobs, everything. It is the Metalocalypse, and each episode a secret society comprised of religious figures, military generals, and specialists (voiced by various heavy metal legends) try to stop it from coming to pass. It’s a wicked engine of hilarity and heavy metal hooplah, filled with absurd violence, satire, fantasy, nods to subculture, and genuinely well-crafted death metal. A live incarnation of Dethklok tours now and again (I managed to see them in concert last year with Mastodon), lead by series co-creator Brendon Small of Home Movies fame. Small is apparently music grad and evidently a master shredder. 'The Dethalbum' features the amazing songs from the show and belongs in any honest metal collection.

It’s all absolutely wonderful. You’ve guessed, I’m sure, that this is pretty much a dish served for metal heads and geeks, and that if you’re neither of the two, there won’t be much for you to appreciate. But that might not be entirely true – if you’ve seen and liked any Adult Swim cartoons, I dare say you might like this. The humour is in the same vein, chiefly delivered through bizarre, meandering conversations and random occurrences. But, this time, with a heavy touch of heavy metal.

So: Can't recommend this show enough. One of my favourite shows of all time.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #38: Machete (2010)

Who says you can't make a real movie out of a fake trailer?

Machete, the new feature from Robert Rodriguez, answers this ridiculous question in five swift letters: FOOLS.

Based on the humorous-yet-undeniably-badass trailer preceding Grindhouse: Planet Terror, Rodriguez's new feature packs an impressive punch to end off what has been a relatively ho-hum season of summer blockbusters.

And although it won't be released on DVD for a few months, I feel compelled (nay, obligated!) to stir up some buzz and anticipation for this explosive romp through hell.

Machete continues Rodriguez's experimentation with the exploitation genre--an endeavor he started with Planet Terror--and it's evident that he's honing his skills. Machete has the ridiculous over-the-top violence and gratuitous, totally-out-of-place nudity characteristic of the genre, but it also offers a political commentary which, though decidedly not subtle, offers the film something akin to actual substance.

The plot of Machete doesn't follow the standard revenge-tale archetype in the manner implied by its fake trailer--in fact, Machete himself (Danny Trejo) is something of a reluctant hero. Living a simple life as an illegal immigrant in Texas, Machete seems content doing manual labour for a living wage after an epic betrayal ends his days as a Mexican Federale.

It isn't until a wealthy businessman by the name of Booth (played with just the right amount of scumbag by Lost veteran Jeff Fahey) makes him an offer he can't refuse that he breaks out a few of his old tricks.

As they say, old habits die hard.

...except in this case, old habits don't die. They KILL!

Booth's offer involves the assassination of a U.S. Senator (Robert De Niro) whose excessive stance against immigration would be hilarious if it weren't so reflective of some actual American political figures.

After the assassination goes awry, and Machete learns of Booth's true motives, he teams up with an Immigration Enforcement officer (Jessica Alba) and works somewhat effortlessly to take him down.

The greatest part of Machete is easily the upstanding morality of the title character. He never kills unless it's necessary, he always gives the bad guys an opportunity to consider their misdeeds and run away, and when it comes time to take out the trash, he does so with considerable ease.

Machete is one of the most likeable action heroes ever, and it's delightfully rewarding to see him almost single-handedly rid the film of its evil-doers.

Machete also sports an unbelievable cast, and although the acting is nothing tremendous, some of the big names make it a lot more fun. In addition to the names bracketed above, you get Cheech Marin as Machete's estranged brother and Michelle Rodriguez as a Harriet Tubman figure, running an underground railroad for Mexican immigrants.

But let's not forget the one man who makes Machete shimmer. The one and only Steven Seagal.

Seagal's appearance as the big cheese of evil is nothing short of heartwarming, and his climactic sword-fight with Machete is probably in my Top 10 for Hollywood Fight Scenes, if not only for the eventual outcome.

Machete is an absolute blast, and I'd definitely recommend it to anyone who likes their movies drenched in epic conflict, slimy bad guys and stuff blowing up for no reason.

...and yes, you get to see Lindsay Lohan naked.

You know, if that's your thing.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #61: Pusher (1996)

After seeing and loving Valhalla Rising (review on the way), I decided to check out Nicolas Winding Refn's other films. His first was Pusher, number one in a trilogy of Pusher films. I was not disappointed.

It follows the life of a Danish drug dealer as he drifts from club to club and home to home, working coke deals and violently collecting money when force is called for. He has a strange relationship with a high-price callgirl and can barely manage a human or personal life with her or his friends. He is living blankly, and he gets in way over his head.

Judging by Valhalla Rising, I suspected that Refn is really good at creating atmosphere, and Pusher certainly confirmed it. The film is well shot and looks great for its low budget - the lower-end camera very much suits the seediness of the locales, the characters, and the subject matter, and is an instance where a filmmaking setback becomes a subtle boon. The acting is tight and with talent, as the dialogue is incredibly believable (so much so that it's probably improvised) and the gangsters are entirely lived in. You really get the sense that you're looking into a very real and not-so-underground world.

So: Great stuff, I can't wait to watch the next two Pusher films.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #37: Insomnia (1997)

Oh Norway...you never fail to impress. First The Bothersome Man and now this? Dare I say...Nor-way to go!

I was originally turned onto Insomnia (the film, not the disorder) when I was going through my Christopher Nolan phase (see my reviews for #30: Following and #35: The Prestige) and expressed an interest in re-watching Nolan's 2002 remake.

Both Chris and Ryan recommended the original, citing its extreme superiority, confirmed by its inclusion in The Criterion Collection.

"Better than Christopher Nolan?" I thought. "GOD'S GIFT TO CINEMA, CHRISTOPHER NOLAN?!"

I had to see it to believe it.

Then I did. And now I do.

Insomnia is the story of Jonas Engstrom, a Swedish police detective assigned to a murder investigation in a small town in Northern Norway. The town, which is located above the Arctic Circle, experiences 24-hour daylight, and Engstrom must fight the effects of unrelenting insomnia while trying to get to the bottom of the case.

It's a cool premise, and the entire film is imbued with a hyper-creepy vibe, due in large part to the acting of Stellan Skarsgård, who plays the lead role. Skarsgård plays a brilliant and cunning detective at first, but later descends into a 'bad cop' archetype, due in part by a grievous error he makes early on in the investigation, and exacerbated by his inability to sleep with the constant daylight.

But make no mistake. Engstrom (Skarsgård) is not a Dirty Harry style bad cop. He's just dirty. In fact, this is one of the best movies I've seen where, despite his undeniable cleverness, the protagonist is someone the audience comes to profoundly dislike.

However, the sinister quality of the main character makes the plot all the more compelling--as Engstrom digs himself deeper and deeper into the realm of amorality, the story gets more and more suspenseful.

I also thought Insomnia did a tasteful job of handling the subject matter of the crime at hand--it's hard to watch a film about the murder of a 15-year old girl, but the violence of the original act is depicted briefly and more or less implicitly, and there are no shocking or disturbing images of it popping up later in the film. It's still not a movie to watch with the kids, but director Erik Skjoldbjaerg makes it as easy to stomach as possible.

Overall, I thought Insomnia was an effectively suspenseful and genuinely engrossing crime thriller, and the added element of a dislikable protagonist works to make it more intriguing. I'd certainly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good murder mystery, as long as you don't mind reading some subtitles along the way.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #59: Haibane Renmei (2002)

One of my favourite anime series, this short thirteen episode drama tells the story of a girl that wakes up in a strange town with no memory of how she got there. And she seems to have wings and a halo. The answer seems obvious, but there are only a handful of other girls like her. They look after each other in a simple boarding house and try to maintain an uneasy relationship with all of the normal townsfolk that populate the area. Their town is completely walled off with stone, and no one is allowed to leave. The town's mystery, and the nature of the girls, starts to unravel when our main heroine arrives and rocks the boat in her well-meaning way.

There's a gentleness to this series that reminds me very much of Miyazaki's amazing works - there's a real sense of air and flora in Haibane Renmei, and it's a treat to take its world in. Also like Miyazaki, there's a lining of darkness and unease to the idyllic bliss of the town and its inhabitants. Something is not quite right with the world, and as the characters come into contact with the heroine, she comes to find a complexity of private suffering and inner torments that keep them locked in place and without hope.

It's beautifully animated and it's without the kind of sex and violence that characterises the bulk of the Japanese animation industry.

So: Fantastic. Give it a shot, even if you're not normally into anime.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #35: The Prestige (2006)

I remember that when The Prestige came out in theatres, it was released in one of those infamous "Hollywood Pairs" that everyone despises.

You know what I mean.

It happened with Dante's Peak and Volcano. It happened with Armageddon and Deep Impact. And it happened with The Prestige and The Illusionist.

Inevitably, when "Hollywood Pairs" occur, no one sees both. (Unless you're weird. Or you have a LOT of interest in the subject matter.)

Back in 2006, I opted to see The Illusionist because Edward Norton is awesome and I can't stand Hugh Jackman.

The Illusionist was nothing if not mediocre, so understandably my enthusiasm for magician movies was somewhat diminished. Luckily, however, my enthusiasm for Christopher Nolan recently overtook it.

The Prestige is a tale of two competing magicians, Robert Angier and Alfred Borden (played by Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale respectively, neither of whom can really pull off the English accent required for the roles) in early 20th century London.

At first, the men work side by side as partners under the leadership of an illusion engineer by the name of Cutter (adeptly played by Michael Caine).

However, when Angier's wife, the act's lovely assistant is tragically killed as a result of one of the illusions, he blames Borden for her death, and sparks a rivalry that increases more and more intensely as the film progresses.

At first, the men merely try to sabotage each other's stage performances, but when Borden finally perfects "The Transported Man," a trick that Angier cannot figure out, the conflict turns to one-upmanship, and each magician goes to extraordinary lengths to outdo the other and expose his secrets.

The Prestige is a really solid film, and it comes with all the fun twists and turns that you'd expect from Christopher Nolan. Of course, Nolan can't be credited with the story, since The Prestige is an adaptation of Christopher Priest's novel of the same name, but he brings it to the screen with the same mysterious flair present in films like Following and Memento.

The Prestige also brings David Bowie out of a brief cinematic retirement, giving him his first on-screen role since playing himself in 2001's Zoolander. Bowie does a great job of playing Nicola Tesla, the suave, brilliant but altogether mad scientist, and practically steals the show at the halfway mark.

Overall, I enjoyed The Prestige for what it is: a well-crafted period piece that is suspenseful, mysterious and surprising, not to mention unique (if it weren't for that pesky Illusionist!) I'd certainly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good story, complete with a legitimately cool twist that won't make you roll your eyes.

...and if you'd rather just stare at Scarlett Johansson, I suppose it's good for that too.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #33: Caché (2005)

Michael Haneke's Caché is a rare type of suspense-thriller.

It's minimalist. It's super-creepy. And it's refreshingly open-ended.

Caché is the story of Georges and Anne Laurent, an ordinary couple in France who begin to receive ominous videotapes on the doorstep of their home. At first the cassettes, which appear to be shot in high-definition (a technological impossibility, for all intents and purposes), contain surveillance-style footage of the area outside the Laurent's home.

To be fair, this is unsettling at best.

But the theme of the tapes gradually evolve--they depict more and more specific instances and settings, and for Georges, the subject matter gradually gets closer to home (in the strictly non-literal sense).

Caché is an excellent film, not least of all for its commitment to postmodern storytelling. Not only is the film self-reflexive (a film about film) but it also manages to avoid conclusive elements. (The explanation for this can be found in an interview with director Michael Haneke, included on the DVD--he provides some really interesting perspective into what the film is actually about, but I'd recommend watching it after the feature).

Haneke's film manages to be highly compelling despite being somewhat abstract and relatively uneventful. It's one of the more accessible examples of postmodern film that I've seen, and it takes an irresistible premise and totally pulls it off without getting too caught up in lame twists or illogical character leaps taken in service of advancing the plot.

Certainly, the genius of Caché lies in its simplicity, but incidentally that's where the suspense comes from too.

I'd certainly recommend Caché for fans of the suspense/thriller genre, but also to those looking at getting into the films of Michael Haneke. Haneke is known for tackling some pretty dark territory in some of his films (Funny Games certainly comes to mind without hesitation), but Caché is very nonthreatening in its content. The gripping psychological element of Caché subverts the need for shocking images or disturbing scenes, which makes it a great starting point for anyone interested in trying out Haneke's catalogue.

Overall, Caché is the ideological opposite of the most recent film I reviewed, 2003's Canadian feature, Nothing. It takes a cool premise and makes it into a cool movie, and in no way did I find its delivery of the goods unsatisfactory.

So if you're interested in this little gem, don't be shy--Caché is hidden in the Austria section.