Del and Mladen review ‘Geostorm’
Image courtesy of Warner Bros.
“Geostorm” Starring Gerald Butler as Jake Lawson, Jim Sturgess as Max Lawson, Abbie Cornish as Sarah Wilson, Talitha Eliana Bateman as Hannah Lawson, Alexandra Maria Lara as Ute Fassbinder, and others. Directed by Dean Devlin. PG-13. 109 minutes. Streaming on Hulu.
Del’s take
Every now and then a movie comes along that makes me feel pretty good about my own creative efforts. “Geostorm” makes me feel like a goddamn genius.
“Geostorm” is dumb even by Mladen’s low standards, which lie somewhere between root cellar and hell. I can tell how much I hate a movie by the number of times I roll my eyes. By the end of “Geostorm” I needed Dramamine and one of those little fold-out paper bags the airline puts in your seat pocket. It’s that bad.
Which is weird because they spent a lot of money making the damn thing – $120 million – and got some decent actors – Andy Garcia, Abbie Cornish, Jim Sturgess and Ed Harris – Ed freaking Harris! who should have won an Oscar for “The Truman Show” and might be my favorite actor of all time. How could a movie with such great talent go so terribly wrong?
Reason No. 1: Gerard Butler.
Giving Gerard Butler the lead was a mistake. Don’t get me wrong. I like Mr. Butler. He’s a reliable disaster movie performer – check “Greenland” and “Angel has Fallen.” Unfortunately, he’s also one of those actors whose face falls out of memory faster than giant hailstones fall out of the sky over Tokyo. I had to consult my Old Fart’s Digital Crutch, Msgr. Google, for other movies he’s starred in. Not a good sign.
Reason No. 2: Dean Devlin.
“Geostorm” was directed by Mr. Devlin, a graduate of the Roland Emmerich school of disaster filmmaking – except in this case he forgot to study for the final. For a disaster movie, you see remarkably few disasters. What you do see is a clunky whodunit plot that did little to pique my interest. I assumed the bad guy was either (a) an evil corporation dissatisfied with trillion-dollar profit margins, or (b) a Republican. Either way, the who was less important to me than the what. Dammit, Jim, I want my disaster movies to show disasters, not be disasters.
Reason No. 3: Some seriously freaking tectonic logic flaws.
“Geostorm” is predicated on the idea that escalating weather disasters will lead to a gigantic, all-consuming “geostorm,” the meteorological equivalent of Donald Trump’s political and business “empire.” So all nations on Earth marshal their resources to build a gigantic hairnet-kinda thing in orbit that has the ability to nip weather disasters in the bud.
First, let me point out the words “climate change” are not, to my recollection, ever uttered in this movie, which makes me wonder why, given that escalating weather disasters are the hallmark of climate change. Also, the suggestion that all nations (a) recognize the problem and (b) agree to cooperate isn’t science fiction. It’s fantasy. It destroys my willingness to suspend disbelief.
Second, the giant hairnet thingy is just – freaking – impossible. And building it would cost a helluva lot more than doing the things that already cause the hairpieces of conservatives and Republicans to spontaneously combust, things like planting trees, developing more efficient batteries, or inventing a fusion reactor. Is “Geostorm” a disaster flick or “Lord of the Rings”?
Speaking of which, it wouldn’t be a disaster movie unless there was (a) an MIA father who’s feeling guilty about his absence, (b) a child who’s pissed-off because Daddy “wasn’t there,” and (c) an estranged relationship that can only be mended by tens of millions of people dying in a global conflagration.
Yup, that’s “Geostorm,” a melding of all the worst aspects of “2012,” “Independence Day,” “Twister,” and maybe even “The Towering Inferno” and “The Poseidon Adventure.” And to enhance your eye-rolling experience, it’s streaming on Hulu, which is the “Geostorm” of streaming services. I have never, ever streamed a movie on Hulu without something going wrong – the movie buffers, it locks up, the frame crashes and will not play, no matter how many times I clear my cache. I end up digging through my DVDs and watching it the old-fashioned way.
Movies like “Geostorm” are supposed to be dumb fun. Devlin forgot the “fun” part. I give it a D, and I don’t care how many insulting giant hailstones Mladen flings my way.
Mladen’s take
I like sci-fi that uses real-world happenings taking place on Earth to be plausible. So, when “Geostorm” showed moviegoers a low-orbit satellite mesh controlled by a space station that manipulates the planet’s weather to limit the impact of global warming, I was, like, this is silly. How could anyone, even a let-the-imagination-loose filmmaker, think that leashing the weather caused by Earth’s 4.2 billion cubic kilometers of atmosphere, 1.4 cubic km of ocean, and 510 million km of surface land area was doable as a realistic sci-fi movie?
Well, “Geostorm” writers and its director were much more on-target with their movie’s foundational theme than I figured. The October 2023 issue of Scientific American has a story titled, “A Stratospheric Gamble.” It covers some of the ways some scientists are hoping to alter Earth to lessen the impact of climate change. SRM (Solar Radiation Management), folks, is on its way. What is SRM? Injecting volcanic eruption-size quantities of sulfur dioxide into the atmosphere to bounce some sunlight back to space. Lab coat geeks and governments (including our own) are thinking seriously about using geoengineering technology on a PLANETARY scale to mitigate the climate crisis, which was caused by our transportation and power generation technologies. Same old story and a history lesson never learned. Using new technology to offset the dangerous side effects of old technology always fails long-term and it’s always the poor who suffer.
So, the “Geostorm” scenario ain’t so unrealistic as it seemed to me before I read the Sci Am piece. That fact, paradoxically, allowed me to enjoy the film, more or less. In “Geostorm” the weather control space station starts to malfunction, causing its weather-inducing satellites to go berserk. An Afghan village is frozen to death. A part of Hong Kong is blasted to bits by overheating natural gas infrastructure. Lawson (Butler), the principal architect of the space station and an imperfect brother and father, is sent back to his orbiting masterpiece to determine what the hell is going on. As human command and control of the space station and its satellites continues to deteriorate, so does the weather on Earth. Incessant, infrastructure-destroying lightning in Florida that, somehow, increases the value of Mar-a-Lago. OK, I made up the part about Mar-a-Lago. A tsunami flooding one of the Persian Gulf’s fascist states. A flock of tornadoes here and hail the size of Thanksgiving turkeys there.
Del, and his combustible grudges, be damned. It’s a wonder he didn’t mention how the female commander of the space station becomes a weakling leader when Lawson embarks to save the day. Look, I agree with Del that “Geostorm” is maudlin and too much political thriller troupe. But, he should’ve been paying attention to the portrayed weather disasters. Del, start digging that bunker, fill it with canned goods, and make sure it has a helluva water pump to keep it dry because a geostorm is on the way, though it’ll come with a much less dramatic name – solar radiation management. And, rather than stocking the bunker with Dramamine, I suggest Xanax to help you with anger management.
Del contends “Geostorm” is bad crap. Ignore him. The film is good crap.
Mladen Rudman is a former newspaper reporter and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Warner Brothers.
“Blade Runner 2049” Starring Ryan Gosling, Harrison Ford, Robin Wright and Sylvia Hoeks. Directed by Dennis Villeneuve. 2 hours, 44 minutes. Rated R.
Del’s take
As I purchased my ticket for “Blade Runner 2049” the ticket taker said, “It’s entirely possible you will be the only person in the theater.”
He was almost right.
Initially I was the only person in the theater. I frantically texted my movie-going crony, Dusty. “Please hurry. I am the only one in the theater. It’s creepy.”
By the time the movie started there were 13 other individuals with us, not an auspicious showing for a much-ballyhooed sequel to a movie legend.
The original “Blade Runner” didn’t do much at the box office, pulling in a little over $32 million domestically over its lifetime. “2049” seems headed to a similar fate. The film has so far grossed $60 million and may never earn back its $155-plus million expenses.
That’s too bad because it’s a worthy successor to the original Ridley Scott classic, despite the fact that audiences don’t seem to care.
I suspect “2049’s” major problem is that contemporary moviegoers are too lazy to enjoy a movie that builds its tension slowly and requires audiences to think. Why should audiences think when they can coast along in a state of lobotomy-like bliss, voting for Donald Trump and watching crap like the upcoming “Geo Storm”?
In “2049” Ryan Gosling is Officer K, a replicant hunter who belongs to a new generation of the genetically engineered lifeforms himself, compliant slaves who do what they are told. When he is ordered to investigate a possible older-generation replicant hiding in the environmental wasteland that Southern California has become, he tumbles onto a larger mystery that promises to “break the world,” as Lieutenant Joshi (Wright) puts it.
What follows is a journey across the hellscape of Los Angeles and beyond in search of the truth, which eventually leads K to Deckard (Ford) and a confrontation with agents of the Wallace Corporation, manufacturer of the new, compliant replicants. Wallace is headed by the cool-handed Neander Wallace (Leto), who is looking for a way to make replicants faster. Does K hold the solution to that problem?
“2049” is a replicant itself, duplicating the mood and pacing of the original “Blade Runner.” The score evokes the original Tangerine Dream soundtrack yet diverges in strange and interesting ways. The noir ingredients are still there – endless rain, sometimes interrupted by snow. Neon signs with gigantic holograms confronting pedestrians about their shopping choices. Retro technology and clothing styles. At any moment I expected to see Daryl Hannah back-handspringing into the fray.
Gosling measures up to Ford’s original performance, offering the same world-weary yet hopeful emotional resonance to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there is more to his manufactured life than even his makers were aware of. His exchanges with his holographic lover Joi (Anna de Armas) are simultaneously touching and heartbreaking. To know that these two artificial entities – one grown in a vat, the other digital – constitute all that is good about this world damns the future with sadness and futility.
The movie is long, almost three hours, and therein lies its flaw. The pacing is glacial – not the post global warming “glacial” of retreat, but the inch-a-year growth of ice before mankind dumped his pollution and greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. At times director Villeneuve seems to love his creation so madly he dwells on unimportant details, unwilling to slay his darlings as it were. It feels every bit as much as a three-hour movie.
Still, it’s three hours of arresting visuals, soaring music, and tantalizing questions: Who else might be a replicant? Will these new replicants throw off their designed constraints and launch a revolution? How will mankind survive without its slave labor force?
Fans of the original should catch “2049” in a movie theater to enjoy its visuals in their native habitat. Newcomers should probably watch the 1982 original before venturing to the theater.
Watch it now, because if “2049” doesn’t start making money soon, it may be another 35 years before we see Part 3.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of STX Entertainment.
“Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets” Staring Dane Dehaan, Cara Delevinge, Clive Owen, Rihanna, Rutger Hauer and Ethan Hawke. Directed by Luc Besson. 137 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Mladen’s take
It’s tough to criticize a mediocre movie such as “Valerian,” which I saw opening weekend. The film had some terrific scenes and a dose of charm. Unfortunately, all of them came in the first 30 to 40 minutes.
There was the pithy beginning which spanned some 400 years of space-time. It cleverly explained how we got to the period covered in the vividly constructed movie by “Fifth Element” director Luc Besson. There was even something pleasant about the peaceful extraterrestrial world that we see destroyed by massive disabled interstellar fighting ships falling from the sky during a battle. That world, the world of the Mul, reminded me of the hermit crab terrariums tourists find in the campy souvenir stores in my Northwest Florida hometown. Mul land was all oversized shells, lots of sand, and calm blue water.
My favorite part of the film depicted our heroes, Valerian and Laureline, recovering a “converter” amid a trans dimensional brawl. Particularly clever was the way Besson depicted Valerian trying to fight and survive while different parts of his body were stuck in two separate realities.
Then, the movie falters. It’s not that any one scene was bad. They just lacked spunk. Plus, the youngsters playing the heroes lacked the street creds that were needed to make their cause inspiring.
I’m irritated that the movie’s marketing listed Rutger Hauer and John Goodman as stars. Hauer, perhaps best known for his role as the soldier clone with a tortured soul in “Blade Runner,” appeared for, maybe, 2 minutes. Goodman provided the voice for a Jabba the Hut-sequel pawnshop owner and mobster. That lasted, maybe, 3 or 4 minutes. Clive Owen, who was superb in the lead role in “Children of Men,” a magnificent sci-fi film that, for some reason, has gone largely unrecognized by moviedom, missed the mark as a fiendish military commander trying to hide a severe misdeed. Ethan Hawke also played a supporting role, but it was unimpressive.
And, there was some crappy editing. The scene with a famous singer/dancer portraying a shapeshifting illegal alien was completely unnecessary. The sequence should’ve been cut, saving the audience about 7 or 8 minutes of frustration. Finally, ‘Valerian’s’ PG-13 rating was a disservice. Well-placed strategic cussing and blood and gut splatter would have given the film a more mature feeling.
Valerian will not become a cult favorite as happened with Besson’s ‘Fifth Element.’ Is the film worth seeing in the theater? Maybe. It’s your dime.
Del’s take
I’m no expert on science fiction. I read it, write it and watch it. When I do I am mostly having fun, not looking for ways to enlarge my brain.
But even so woeful a student as I have noticed a fundamental difference in the way European directors approach SF opposed to their American counterparts (and I might extend that difference to writers, too).
American science fiction strikes me as techno-centric, while in Europe it’s all about style. “Valerian” is a good example.
Besson is a talented director who imbues his films with color, beauty and wit. His characters are usually interesting, including their flaws (they don’t get much more flawed than Jean Reno in “Leon: The Professional”).
His last outing into things outer space was the stylish and funny “The Fifth Element,” which has become a science fiction fan favorite, if not a cult film.
“Valerian” is also stylish and sometimes funny. But it lacks the snappy screenplay and perfect casting of “The Fifth Element,” resulting in a kind of chubby “Fifth Element” lite that bores as much as it entertains.
Valerian (Dehaan) and Sgt. Laureline (Delevinge) are 28th century cop partners who are driven to investigate a mysterious radioactive dead spot growing within Alpha, a spaceborne city that has accreted over the centuries to become a galactic meeting center for spacefaring races. The two are thrown into an Indiana Jones-style quest to solve the mystery and correct a terrible wrong. Simultaneously, Valerian is smitten by Sgt. Laureline and determined to win her hand in marriage, despite his reputation as a womanizer.
The movie is a feast for the eyes, blazing with vibrant colors and new ideas about aliens and their environments. While other science fiction properties are content with forehead ridges or glued-on ear extensions (ahem, “Star Trek,” this might be you I’m knocking), “Valerian” gives us weirdly unique critters the likes of which I haven’t seen since “Babylon 5.”
But the story is pretty much standard fare, the-universe-hangs-in-the-balance popcorn that does not explore any new ideas or challenge your ideas about the universe like the really good science fiction films, for example “2001” or “Arrival.” In fairness, it’s not supposed to.
The movie is overweight with unnecessary scenes. Mladen pointed out one offender, a performance by Rihanna that could easily have been cut. Seems Besson must have at least one song and dance number in each of his movies, which is a shame. If he had slain his little darlings, “Valerian” would have moved ahead at warp speed instead of plodding on impulse power.
My big gripe was in the casting. Don’t get me wrong – I’m a huge fan of Dane Dehaan. If you haven’t seen “Chronicle” you’re missing a science fiction treat. But Dehaan is wasted in the Valerian role, which plays to none of his strengths. As a love interest for Delevinge he fails completely, coming across as a moonstruck adolescent pining to get laid, sadly unlike his tough but likeable and romantic predecessor, Korben Dallas of “The Fifth Element.”
I was forewarned Delevinge was a bad actor, but she seemed fine in her role, at times outshining Dehaan and others sharing the screen. Mladen is right. Rutger Hauer’s role can be measured in seconds and Ethan Hawke is on the screen and gone before you can ask “Is it over yet?”
“Valerian” isn’t a bad movie. I credit Besson for giving us an alternative to the caped dreck pouring out of Hollywood’s hind-end like a bad bout of Montezuma’s Revenge (I can see it now … “MONTEZUMA’S REVENGE … the dark tide rises!). I wish it had been shorter, smarter, and better cast, but I guess you can’t have it all.
Absolutely see it at the theater. It’s stunning visuals will be lost on the small screen, unless you’ve got a curved wall-o’-TV parked in your living room.
Oh, and do watch “Chronicle.”
I give “Valerian” a B for originality and visual presence.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical editor. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
[ Primary image courtesy of Free SVG ]
From Amazon:
Adventures in the Arcane is back! And we’ve expanded to eight thrilling stories. The characters you love from Volume I return, including Captain Argo, Dominic Ashwood, Waylon and Jester, Dempsey and Drood.
Our guest authors, including pulp legend Ron Goulart, bring you four terrific tales guaranteed to set your heart racing. Inside you’ll find femme fatales, vengeful ghosts, mysterious islands, and deadly dream worlds.
Lock your door, brew some coffee, and light a candle. Then open this book and prepare to be thrilled!
A Syndicate Production featuring the work of Mark Boss, S. Brady Calhoun, Ruth Corley, Mark Douglas Jr., Ron Goulart, Jayson Kretzer, Tony Simmons, and Del Stone Jr.
If you would like to order a copy of “Adventures in the Arcane, Volume II,” following this link.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.
“Alien: Covenant” Starring Michael Fassbender, Katherine Waterston, Billy Crudup, Danny McBridge, Demian Bichir. Directed by Ridley Scott. 122 minutes. Rated R.
Del’s take
“Alien: Covenant” is probably the movie you wish “Prometheus” had been.
It has a lot going for it: Storytelling is slick and efficient, eschewing junked-up plots and mystical mumbo-jumbo. Characterization is improved, with believable people speaking believable lines. And it does a creditable job of untangling the execrable birds’ nest of plotlines and unanswered questions presented by the afore-mentioned predecessor.
Director Ridley Scott sticks with the familiar and tries to evoke the grime and claustrophobia of “Alien,” while at the same time throwing in the rough-hewn desperation of “Aliens.” That’s where “Covenant” goes awry. In parts it is not so much an homage to the first two and best entries in the “Alien” canon but a blatant ripoff worthy of a J.J. Abrams flick.
Still, it’s not a bad movie and it puts the “Alien” franchise back on course with the possibility of future interesting sequels. For those all these reasons you should see it.
The movie stars Michael Fassbender as David or, schizophrenically, Walter, the yin and the yang of the story’s synthetic characters. Walter is a newer, more hepped up version of David who, unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, has been stripped of his ability to “create.” That ability also prevents him from slaughtering human beings; feel free to decide if that’s a good or bad thing. I personally feel it’s bad, but hey – no judgments here.
Walter is on board a colony ship headed for a distant planet when suddenly a neutrino storm strikes and the ship is disabled. The crewmembers are awakened from their hibernation pods to deal with the crisis and discover a closer planet more conducive to life. They are made aware of its existence by an incoming signal.
Hmmm. Where have we seen THAT before?
Upon awakening Katherine Waterston, who plays Daniels, almost immediately becomes the victim of a tragedy, one that ultimately brings the entire ship, crew and passengers into the jaws of peril. The tragedy potential is compounded when the decision is made to check out this signal, and this great new party spot on this interstellar pub crawl.
They land on a stormy planet to find a shattered city and the mummified corpses of thousands of its residents, the tall beings from “Prometheus.” Oh, and there’s another weird wreck of a U-shaped spaceship and finally David, who has lived here over the 10 years since the Prometheus disappeared.
They say idle hands are the devil’s playthings, and David has been very, very idle, or should we say very, very busy. Busy with what I won’t say, because that represents an answer to a critical question and it sets up the premise of the sequel. Suffice it to say Walter’s creators had good reason to leave out his creativity chip.
Apart from an opening soliloquy which could have been omitted without any loss to the film, “Covenant” moves along at a brisk pace, alternating between explanation and action. It does not feel like a two-hour movie. Scott, when he isn’t hobbled by a crappy screenplay, can still direct a lean and mean fighting machine of a film.
Fassbender is again superb as David and Walter, slipping back and forth between a polished Oxford and Midwest twang of accents with ease. Waterston is a kind of Signourney Weaver lite trying to fill the Ripley bandolier, but she doesn’t quite carry it off. Billy Crudup makes for a good sniveling Oram, the indecisive, overly religious mission commander who wants the crew to both love and respect him and succeeds at neither, The others are functionally cannon fodder who do rise above their meager contributions, so overall the acting component is effective.
The problem with “Covenant” is that it harkens back too often and too distinctly to “Alien” and “Aliens.” Let me count some of the ways:
1. The crew is summoned to an alien moon by a signal of unknown origin – check.
2. Crawling through dark passageways lit by strobes and punctuated by screaming alarms – check.
3. A rough ride to the surface in a drop ship led by a cowardly commander – check.
4. A tough female lead telling her fellow survivors, “We will seal off the accessways hatch by hatch and blow this motherfucker into outer space” – check.
5. The same tough female lead doing battle with the monster using a large piece of equipment – check.
Even the soundtrack borrows heavily from “Alien,” “Aliens” and “Prometheus.”
There were moments when I thought I was watching Ripley do battle with her extraterrestrial antagonist – THAT’s how similar the tone, pacing and more subtle ingredients, like color palette, were to those earlier movies.
That’s a problem for “Covenant” because those elements don’t mix well. “Alien” and “Aliens,” while sharing a similar premise, are two dramatically different movies, each with its own formulary for pacing and tension. You can’t blend the two and come away with a terrific cinematic experience no more than you can blend a pizza with a cheesecake and come away with a terrific gastronomic experience.
“Covenant” achieves a kind of limited success by answering questions and propelling the series into the realm of sequels, but its reliance on what has come before renders it into a derivative mashup that handicaps its ranking in the “Alien” pantheon. Of all the movies I would rate “Alien” the best with “Aliens” running a very close second. “Alien 3” was essentially a music video that nonetheless had an interesting look and feel, although it squandered all the grandeur of its predecessors. The Winona Ryder “Alien” was insipid and banal, and “Prometheus” was an unmitigated disaster.
Therefore I would place “Covenant” at a distant third on the list, and give it a generous grade of B.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of Columbia Pictures.
“Life” Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Rebecca Ferguson, and Ryan Reynolds. Directed by Daniel Espinosa. 104 Minutes. Rated R.
Del’s take
If you come away from “Life” with a strong sense of déjà vu, be not afraid. You’ve seen it before.
You saw it with “Alien.” You saw it with “Gravity.” You even saw it with “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” “Life” is a 1950s-style science fiction B movie with 21st century special effects and a top-shelf budget and roster of actors. But despite the qualities and resources working in its favor, “Life” fails to generate much heat at the launch pad.
The story is standard-fare sci-fi/horror: A probe delivers soil samples from Mars to a crew aboard the International Space Station. An exobiologist discovers a protozoan-like organism in one of the samples and unwisely revives it. Then, as we have learned from countless sci-fi/horror films, the exobiologist unwisely feeds the organism and watches it grow until the day it abruptly decides glucose solution isn’t very appetizing and something heartier that will stick to its translucent ribs would be a better choice of menus.
There are no McRib sandwiches in outer space.
From there the movie becomes a grim struggle for survival as the astronauts match wits with the strangely resourceful and intelligent “Calvin,” as a schoolgirl has named it in a contest. To say anything about what happens next would spoil the movie for you, so I’ll fall back on my opening line. “You’ve seen it before.”
“Life” falls a smidge below the eye-catching and stomach-churning special effects of “Gravity,” but they’re still darned impressive, from soaring panaromas of the Earth and its landscape circling below to the weirdly unique environment of zero gravity inside the space station. (We even get a short tutorial on pooping in space. That toilet looked mighty small.)
Characters are thinly sketched as the monster mayhem ensues not long out of the gate. Jake Gyllenhaal is Dr. David Jordan, the station physician who seems slightly unhinged by his near record-setting time in space and does not want to return to Earth because a bad experience in Syria soured him on mankind. That moment of revelation is one of the few glimpses we receive of the man behind the doctor’s jumpsuit – and that’s more than what the other characters are given to bare except for station engineer Sho Murakami (Hiroyuki Sanada), who watches the birth of his child back on Earth via tablet.
Where the movie could have profited from its “Alien” DNA is in tension-building. Because the characters aren’t sufficiently developed and the action hurried onto the screen, it’s hard to care if they live or die. Director Espinosa should have followed Ridley Scott’s example and let us get to know these folks before exposing them to peril.
Some might interpret “Life” as a cautionary tale regarding the hubris of science, and they’d have plenty of ammunition. Again and again, science is portrayed as the rogue operator in this struggle of man vs. nature. But the movie never pursues that metaphor with any gusto. The missteps seem nothing more than means to achieve ends. Otherwise, there’d be no story.
“Life” deserves to be seen in a movie theater for its eye-popping special effects. The story itself is nothing special, and there are fewer thrills and chills than the trailers suggest.
Overall I would give it a grade of B-.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of Warner Brothers.
“Kong Skull Island” Starring Tom Hiddleston, Samuel L. Jackson, Brie Larson. Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts. 1 hour, 58 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Del’s take
King Kong really needs to find a Mrs. Kong, if you know what I mean.
That poor, besotten beast, trapped all alone on Skull Island without the company of a female, has developed a frightening case of blue –
Cough cough cough. Ahem! Sorry about that. I momentarily forgot about this review’s PG rating.
Suffice it to say that in many of the Kong iterations we see a lonely ape the size of the federal deficit pining for a tiny but beautiful human woman, which ultimately leads to his demise, usually at the trigger finger of a sympathetic but competitive human male who has no intention of sharing his tiny but beautiful human woman with a giant ape, even if the giant ape is a movie star.
You don’t see that in many Plenty of Fish profiles.
In “Kong: Skull Island,” the eighth outing for the sexually frustrated mega-simian, movie fans receive a rehashing of many of the Kong tropes with a few new wrinkles that don’t add anything to the canon. But then the movie’s purpose is not to tread new ground but pave old ground for a sequel.
In “Skull Island” Bill Randa (John Goodman), a functionary in the Monarch organization (which figured into another recent giant creature movie), convinces a senator to fund a trip to Skull Island to look for, well, whatever is there – oil, uranium, or monsters.
Oh, and he needs a military escort.
That brings Lt. Col. Preston Packard (Samuel L. Jackson) into the picture, along with his unit of cannon fodder and one young non-com comedian (Thomas Mann). They’re joined by pacifist war photographer Mason Weaver (Brie Larson) and noted tracker Loki, er, James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston) to complete the lineup.
The group arrives aboard a fleet of helicopters that, after traversing some seriously bad weather that would have folks like you and me clutching air sickness bags like rosaries, reaches the jungle-infested canyons and scenic vistas of Skull Island. Hell immediately breaks lose and does not stop until about a hundred minutes later when the credits roll.
Pacing was off. My impression during the movie was that plot development was moving along too quickly, as if director Vogt-Roberts had taken input from an efficiency expert. Characters were hurriedly sketched, given only a short scene to establish their bonafides and histories, and then it was off to the races.
The script struck me as strangely flat. While the movie offered many funny lines, it missed what I thought were better opportunities for funnier lines. The actors had little to sink their teeth into.
John Goodman’s and Samuel L. Jackson’s characters were straight out of central casting, and as a result their particular branches of the conflict were similarly hackneyed. In fact the Jackson conceit, that of a military fanatic bent on destroying Kong, struck me as unrealistic and at times stupid.
Hiddleston and Larson were good despite the flat script, and Mann, as always, finds a way to inject life into his roles. John C. Reilly was excellent as World War II vet Hank Marlow, and his character provides the only watery-eye potential in the entire movie. Stay to the very end for that.
Many movies these days throw in an Easter egg after the credits, and you’ll need to sit through the entire run-through of credits for “Skull Island” to see which giant monster may figure into the sequel.
Overall I would grade “Skull Island” with a C+. I’ll give it high marks for a decent fight scene and monster mayhem, but low marks for clichéd characters, skimpy characterization, a threadbare script and hurried pacing.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.
“Independence Day: Resurgence” Starring Liam Hemsworth, Jeff Goldblum, Jessie T. Usher, Bill Pullman, and Sela Ward. Directed by Roland Emmerich. 120 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Del’s take
In “Independence Day: Regurgance” everything is bigger and louder and brighter and more menacing that the original “Independence Day.” Alas, everything is not better.
In “Regurgance” as I’m calling it, we get a double-down dose of the original film minus the wit and charm, which is a shame. It could have been a contender for a summer blockbuster. Instead, we’ll have to keep looking and hoping for something a little more filling than whatever mindless Marvel pap we’re served for 2016.
The story takes place 20 years after disrespectful aliens blew up the White House and otherwise embarked on a massive urban renewal project at major American cities, doing a good job of tearing them down but a not so good job of putting them back up. We have finally achieved peace on Earth, thanks to the aliens nearly eradicating us. After the aliens are defeated by Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum we steal their technology and make our own anti-gravity cars and phase plasma rifles in the 40-watt range. The Chinese figure heavily in this renewal and I can safely say “Regurgance” should do well in Beijing and Shanghai thanks to this crude and insulting marketing ploy.
Unfortunately we have underestimated the aliens’ resolve. This time a much larger mother ship arrives carrying an alien queen reminiscent of that “bitch” in “Aliens” who wants to steal our planet’s molten core, turning Earth into a vast wasteland, much like this movie.
Luckily the original crew minus Will Smith, who wisely had died, is back along with a newer, sleeker, younger cadre of heroes who ride to the rescue of good old terra firma. Will they succeed?
Need you ask?
Acting is so-so. Jeff Goldblum is strangely subdued, but dear old dad Judd Hirsch is as unflappable and tart-tongued as ever. Bill Pullman seems confused and maybe a little crazy, and Brent Spiner, who plays a much larger role in this film, is over-the-top kooky and a little hard to digest. The newbies are all cardboard cutouts and about as animated as such, except for sidekick Travis Tope, who shows signs of life despite the horrible lines he’s given to read.
My major gripe with the movie is it lacks the snappy dialogue and sharp wit of the original. It has its funny moments to be sure, but they are sparse and seem to work in spite of, not because of, a diminished script that does not give its actors an opportunity to spread their wings.
Couple that with clichés, a predictable plot, several deus ex machina interventions and a scale of destruction that exceeds the brain’s ability to process what is happening on the screen, and you have, dare I say, a two-hour stretch of cinematic boredom.
If “Independence Day: Regurgance” is your kind of movie then by all means see it at the movie theater, where it’s dazzling visuals are best exploited by the widescreen presentation. But do opt for the matinee when prices are a little lower. I’m not sure it’s worth a prime time movie ticket.
I rate this movie a C+.
Mladen’s take
To cleanse my memory of the worst big-budget movie I’ve seen, I watched the best. Guess which is which: “Independence Day Resurgence/Regurgance” or “The Matrix.”
I’m still worried that I may have nightmares about the nearly $9 I spent to sit for 2 hours to watch another Roland Emmerich bomb.
IDR was mostly terrible. It was boring. It was poorly acted. It was poorly scripted and the graphic portrayal of mayhem overwhelming. If much of the U.S. is wrecked by aliens, then it’ll look like someone had pulverized roads, buildings, airplanes, cars, ships, name it, into pieces from the size of thumbnails to hundreds of feet long and wide and strewn the wreckage everywhere evenly for hundreds of square miles, according to IDR special effects gurus.
What’s worse is that Emmerich suckered many of the first “Independence Day” cast, including Bill Pullman as the former U.S. president who led humanity to its victory against the alien invaders on July 4, 1996, and Jeff Goldblum, the gentle scientist who devised the technology to drop the aliens, to star in IDR. The newbies to the ID universe – yes, there’s another ID on the way unless, I imagine, “Resurgence/Regurgance” fails at the box office (which it might very well do) – aren’t worth mentioning.
Look, I wasn’t expecting high-caliber, intellectual fare from this film. What I was expecting was campy charm, charming characters, quips loaded with defiant charm, and a charming end to the franchise. Instead, the audience was exposed to silly subplots, wimpy weaponry, and an overdose of graphic mis-artistry.
The part of the movie that I enjoyed most lasted, maybe, a cumulative 5 minutes across three or four scenes. It was the crew aboard a salvage ship used to monitor an alien beam that was boring to the center of the Earth from somewhere above the Atlantic. Sound familiar? Yes, the first Star Trek remake with the Romulan mining ship and dreadnaught Narada puncturing a hole in the Pacific to reach Earth’s core to plant a baby black hole that would implode the planet.
Another idea ripped off from other movies by IDR was the configuration and smarts of the alien queen. It/she was a mash of the Alien queen in “Aliens” and the female MUTO in the crappy “Godzilla” of 2014. Why don’t studios sue each other over blatant thefts of ideas, characters, and plots? Lawsuits claiming idea stealing might have two benefits:
- Studios would be forced to create something original
- Audiences would enjoy movie-going once again because they’d be watching something original
Almost forgot, I enjoyed one other part of IDR. No, not when the movie ended, though that was a relief. Emmerich and his zealous graphics developers did a fine job depicting a giant monster (the alien queen) as she moved through a bright, sun-shiny day. It’s often the tendency of moviemakers to show their kaiju amid rain, smoke, or at night. I guess that’s because they don’t have to expend nearly as much computing power (read money) to capture a massive beast’s fine details. In IDR, the alien queen fights mankind in broad daylight and there was a good effort made to depict essentials such as shadows.
IDR was disappointing. I give it a C and that’s generous. This movie failed to deliver what it promised, silliness made entertaining by actors who enjoyed making the movie. I’m coining a new phrase to describe films that are supposed to be summer blockbusters but bust nothing except my happiness. IDR is a summer blockfarter.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical editor. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.
“Jurassic World” Starring Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard and Vincent D’Onofrio. Directed by Colin Trevorrow. 124 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Del’s take
Mix equal parts “Jurassic Park,” “The Lost World” and “Jurassic Park III.” Boil for two hours. Voila! You’ve just prepared an inoffensive addition to the Jurassic canon, one that breaks no new ground but commits no great sin.
“Jurassic World” is the vanilla custard of the series, meaning it is a simple dish that offers a taste everyone can love. It presents an everyman hero; a beautiful damsel in distress; children whose peril reunites their parents; and a big, scary dinosaur, all of it frocked in a thin cloak of subtext about the hubris of genetic engineering and corporate greed. In other words, just another day at the Democratic National Convention.
Chris Pratt’s Owen is an animal trainer who is brought to the new Jurassic World theme park by Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard), his former love interest who serves as a kind of Effie Trinket for the park. Seems their newest creation, Indominus rex, has broken out of its paddock and is eating the tourists. Very bad for publicity. The hope is Owen can figure out what Indominus will do next so they can recapture the beastie and return it to its cage.
But as everyone but the characters in all Jurassic movies have learned, things go awry as Claire’s nephews, Gray (Ty Simpkins) and Zach (Nick Robinson) became stranded in the weeds with Indominus in hot pursuit, and a slyly amoral Hoskins (Vincent D’Onofrio) maneuvers and manipulates to take over the park from its helicopter driving CEO, Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan).
Pratt manages his role with minimal swagger, and Claire transitions from a sweet corporate mouthpiece to somebody who has discovered the benefits of work/life balance. D’Onofrio walks a thin line between evil and ambition. Of the kids, Simpkins evokes the most emotion, from his energetic embrace of the park to a heartbreaking acknowledgement that his parents may part company. Robinson is an unlikable, selfish teen who only comes around once the teeth snap a little too close.
I could nitpick this movie to death. Claire spends her time running through the jungle in a dress and heels, which my female friends assure me is about as likely as balanced budget. Some of the flying reptiles feature a T-rex head, a weird and unexplained departure from previous movies. And we have yet another set of siblings with parents either divorced or on the verge, and somehow their experience of being dinosaur kibble is supposed to mend the frayed bonds of their parents’ relationship.
Overall, the movie serves up nothing new. In fact, it seems frankensteined of scenes and themes from the previous films. But for some reason that did not bother me much. The Jurassic movies have never been anything more than an amusement park thrill ride, and this one certainly provided its share of stomach-looping chills.
Throughout the first and second acts we are told the park must offer a new “asset,” aka a new dinosaur, to stimulate the public’s interest and spike ticket sales. That could be said of the Jurassic franchise as well. And while “Jurassic World” is no Indominous rex of a movie, it has just enough of its DNA to take a huge chomp out of the box office.
I give it a solid B.
Mladen’s take
Websites dedicated to movies fail to list the most intriguing actors in newly released “Jurassic World.” They are: Charlie; Echo; Delta; and Blue, the velicoraptors. More on the hunter four-pack in a moment.
“Jurassic World” is good enough to be entertaining.
There’s a bit of suspense in the film, though, unfortunately, no jump-from-your-seat moments.
The human characters are likable, though not enthralling. Owen (Chris Pratt), the animal trainer, is charming, if not hypocritical. Claire, the corporate number cruncher and Jurassic World theme park manager, is beautiful as hell, but stiff. The two boys incorporated into the movie to draw one of the demographics that tends not to watch this sort of flick – teenaged girls – do an OK job. But, frankly, if any of the folks mentioned above had been eaten, I wouldn’t have cared.
There’s the obligatory animal rights morality tale. The dinosaurs, de-extincted through genetic engineering or not, are creatures worthy of respect and compassion, not merely assets owned by a big mean corporation that runs the amusement park that erupts into mayhem when a hyper-predator escapes to threaten 22,000 well-healed guests.
And, there’s the old adage, don’t fool with Mother Nature unless you want to get the horns, or something like that. Here are people manufacturing dinosaurs as though nothing had happened 20 years earlier (see “Jurassic Park”).
The visual effects are excellent approaching terrific. If only them CGI folks would have given the theropods and sauropods in the film color and patterns. No stripes, no spots, no feathers, no counter-shading. There was nothing to give the dinos a pinch of flair.
Still, the raptors. It’s all about the raptors from my perspective.
About the height of a man and smarter, the bipedal predators are imbued with a whole lot of character. Yes, they were trained by our hero, Owen, to respond to commands, but he could never quite be certain that Blue will follow orders. All the pack’s matriarch had to do was snort or bark and, bam, Charlie, Echo, and Delta would have Owen carved and ready to swallow in the blink of their reptilian eyes.
The scene in “Jurassic World” with the raptors being used as bloodhounds is absolutely stunning. Man, if these bad girls were half the hunters in real life as they’re depicted in this movie (and the three that preceded it), they were the Mesozoic era’s apex predator. Allosaurus, Tyrannosaurus rex, the toothy saurischian with the big sail on its back my ass. Velicoraptors are the bee’s knees of evolution. Damn that asteroid.
I could see why one of the characters, Hoskins (Vincent D’Onofrio), in the movie wanted to turn raptors into … never mind. Don’t want to spoil it for you. By the way, Hoskins can also be credited with one of the most obscure references ever placed in a movie. Quick, why is Tora Bora significant? Thought so. You have no idea.
“Jurassic World” should be seen at the theater. The film is a solid B, but don’t spring for the 3-D version. All the panoramic shots look silly. A blue helicopter flying low above a lush green jungle looks like a 1/48th scale UAV buzzing in front of a painted landscape. Thousands of people walking along the amusement parks main boulevard look like a bunch of figurines with operating legs. A 2-D viewing will be satisfying enough. Use the money you save, $3, to buy a 1.5-ounce drink at the concession stand.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical editor. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of Disney Studios.
“Tomorrowland” Starring George Clooney, Britt Robertson, Raffey Cassidy, and Hugh Laurie. Directed by Brad Bird. 130 minutes. Rated PG.
Mladen’s take
I disliked the film “Tomorrowland,” but it’s my fault. I’m a bigot. There’s nothing anyone can say or do to make me like people. Del’s influence, in that regard, by the way, only feeds my bigotry.
That’s the task the actors and actress in “Tomorrowland” were given. They had to convince me – for I am Audience – that humanity was worth saving, that a society can choose its destiny, that we can reverse climate change, end food deprivation, and stop fighting wars. It was something about deciding which “wolf to feed,” the one of darkness and despair or the one of light and hope, according to this Disney sci-fi adventure.
In the film, Frank (George Clooney) and Casey (Britt Robertson), both humans, and Athena (Raffey Cassidy), a robot, struggle against the governor of Tomorrowland and his tachyon-fired machine, which sees the future. According to the orb with blue streams of light that attach it, I assume, to spacetime, Mankind will expire in roughly 59 days.
My response to the countdown was, “Hallelujah, about goddamned time humanity took it full-fist on the chin.” It’s vital that we kill ourselves before infesting space with our spore. Let us end ourselves before we end everything else.
But, no.
Do-gooder Casey, a STEM whiz kid of the first order, ends up cajoled by automaton Athena into trying to reverse mankind’s headlong plunge into the abyss. Along the way, Casey meets Frank, who was once like her – an optimist and believer in the wonderfulness of technology, which could turn savages (us) into hearts of gold and empathy. Frank, like Casey, also used to never give up. The vibrant youngster and disillusioned old timer, protected by Athena, go on a spectacular adventure that includes an epic scene involving the Eiffel Tower and battles with cyborgs wielding sound-pulse handguns and beam rifles. I must confess I was amused by the terminator that smiled at all the wrong times.
Does the trio save mankind? Eh, it doesn’t matter.
You should drop a dime to see “Tomorrowland” at the theater, not because the film is intelligible or uplifting or leaves you with a sense of wonder and hope. See the movie to support two fine young actresses – Robertson and Cassidy. There’s a risk that if the film bombs at the box office, it’ll slow their ascent in Hollywood. Moore and Bullock ain’t going to be around forever.
And, yes, Clooney does pull off something remarkable in the film. He’s his usual charming self even when playing the role of a curmudgeon exiled from a spit-and-polish utopia embedded somewhere out there in another dimension.
Del’s take
The world is going to hell in a handbasket – yes, we get that. But what are YOU doing to fix it?
That is the message, delivered with blunt force trauma, of “Tomorrowland.” The movie, a two-hour 12-step program for recovering Negative Nellies, correctly asks us to believe each and every one of us must take action to ensure a golden future. But the message is delivered with such clumsy ham-handedness I wonder if “Tomorrowland’s” target demographic isn’t that 12-year-old whose brain has been damaged by “Grand Theft Auto.”
In “Tomorrowland” a young woman (Britt Robertson’s Casey) who is trying to make the world a better place catches a glimpse of a bright and shiny future complete with jet packs, levitating trains, rockets to the stars and a multi-cultural, egalitarian society consisting of peace-loving PhDs who have figured out how mankind can live in harmony with nature. But the accidental snake in this garden of Eden (George Clooney’s Frank), conjures a machine that sees the past and the future. It’s vision of what follows becomes self-fulfilling, and the countdown to mankind’s extinction has begun.
The two young female actors deliver excellent performances, as does Hugh Laurie as Gov. Nix. George Clooney delivers George Clooney, and while that’s not objectionable it doesn’t do a lot to advance the storytelling planchette.
“Tomorrowland” is typical Disney fare – wholesome and uplifting. You’ll hear no cursing, and most of the violence is robot on robot. The only deviation from the Disney credo is our young heroine’s penchant for committing acts of vandalism, all in the name of good, of course.
“Tomorrowland’s” problems are its complexity, with stories within stories that must be worked out. At times it was hard to connect the dots and I simply went with what was on the screen, hoping realization would dawn.
The bigger problem was the movie’s lack of subtlety. At times the characters seemed to be saying, “This is what the movie is about.” All this was capped off by a Gov. Nix soliloquy toward the end where he does tell us what the movie’s about. That’s when I decided I was watching “Tomorrowland” the wrong way. As a children’s movie it works just fine.
My thinking is “Tomorrowland” may find a place in the digital libraries of illegally downloaded movies among the John Green crowd, but for adults it’s thin gruel.
I grade it a C+.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical editor. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.