Sherlock Holmes

It's been a long time since I read any Arthur Conan Doyle, I know, but I don't remember Sherlock Holmes being quite so much of an action hero (though I am glad that it looks like they've kept him a bit crazy and possibly even kept the drug addiction)

Wanted

This is for John Mark.

Imagine a group of twenty-something men -- men of my generation -- in a room together talking about their favorite things. Video games, a hot chick in leather (but not too much), stuff blowing up.

Then imagine this group of men put all of their favorite things in a movie. Sound of Music, I assure you, it would not be.

Instead, you'd get what is called a summer blockbuster movie. And if one of the men in that hypothetical room vaguely remembers Greek mythology from high school, you'd get the movie Wanted. The only way to describe it is an excess -- and I do mean excess -- of all things a post-adolescent boy would consider "badass." It's got Angelina Jolie shooting things, Morgan Freeman being the wise godlike figure, and a Fight Club set-up with the main character (played by James McAvoy, who really can do better) living a zombie-like existence until he is rescued to a group of elite fighters who spend about as much screen time beating each other up as training as killing targets. Plus, most of the shots work perfectly as a video game set up. What more could a boy want? A Rocky reference or two? Oh, they are there, too (mmm . . . meat on hooks . . .). Oh, and throw in a little bit of the Matrix for good measure -- those special effects were cool, right? And everyone's mind was blown by the whole existential "There is no spoon" discussion. Might as well throw in some fate/pre-determination stuff here, too.

It is a movie that revels in excess, and this can be entertaining, but only if you've already got a high tolerance for that sort of thing. The combination of influences was a merry jumble, if somewhat overwhelming, and I must admit I enjoyed the unselfconscious stupidity of throwing all those movie and pseudo-philosophical references into a grab bag of ideas and visuals. However, if you, like me, are not used to playing Grand Theft Auto for hours on end, sitting through so many fight scenes with frenetic editing and pounding hard rock soundtrack becomes a little numbing to the senses. I'd say I liked about half of the movie and for the rest worried about an impending headache.

My friend's favorite part of the movie was when our "hero" -- I really hate calling him that -- hits someone with a keyboard. Keys fly off (as well as a tooth), and they magically align into two angry words I won't type here, but suffice it to say that the second one was "you."

This effect was clever, and somewhat funny, but I think it works a lot better in its original comic book (or is it "graphic novel"?) form. I haven't read any of the original source, but I suspect a form that uses the written word doesn't have as much trouble having to explain if the words spelled out in a picture are actually spelled out in that picture's world. When a superhero hits the villain with a POW! written in a starburst, I've never thought about where that starburst came from. But when a bullet said the word "Goodbye" in this movie, I was distracted from the moment by the nagging question, "Is that actually written there? Does it appear magically, or was it already on the bullet when it was loaded, therefore not having any specific significance in this situation?" Some parts of the comic book medium just don't work as well in a movie.

I suppose I could summarize the plot a bit, but it doesn't really matter. James McAvoy is a sadsack temp who discovers his father was part of an elite group of assassins called the Fraternity. He gets recruited, nominally to kill the man who killed his father, and quickly learns how to fight, get bloody, and curve bullets. Apparently the Fraternity has a couple of magical items in its possession. First, a magical loom's threads tell the Fraternity who should be killed (imagine the Fraternity to the be the Three Fates with guns). Second, magical paraffin wax baths serve the useful plot device of helping the assassins recover from their rough-and-tumble ways.

James McAvoy's character quickly becomes as badass as the rest of the gang, and then surpasses them in badassness when he discovers a secret of the Fraternity and decides to Do What Is Right -- which involves a lot of blowing stuff up. In fact, one of his old jackass friends, after being beaten up by him, intones in an awed voice that the friend he once took advantage of is now "the man." You can almost hear the voices of those young men writing the script bowing down to the awesomeness of the character they have just created.

Unfortunately no one has told those young writers that trying really hard to be badass doesn't actually make someone badass. You have to be a little cooler, a little more sleek, a little more aloof. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but give me Keanu and the half-baked mysticism of the Matrix any day.

1.5 stars

The Skulls

I went ahead and watched The Skulls, which I posted in its entirety just a couple entries ago. I had watched it a few times in high school as one of those trashy movies you put on in the background during a sleepover, so it brings back fond memories for me, even though I couldn't remember the plot at all. In fact, I could only remember two things about the movie before watching it: that at one point the main character says "Hell yes!" instead of "Hell yeah!" which was the topic of conversation during one of these sleepovers, and that there were a couple beautiful scenes, by which I mean the visuals (aka people) are beautiful, not that they are written beautifully or anything.

My review, then, is colored by the movie sending me back to high school, so please cut me some slack when I say I enjoyed it. It is the movie equivalent of one of those mystery/thriller novels you buy for summer reading: sleek, cleverly crafted and terribly fun, even if it's not "highbrow" fare. Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker are sexy and assured in their roles as two very different undergrads at Yale -- the working class boy and the rich legacy boy -- who both become members of a secret society. The working class boy (Jackson) is the main character, of course, and the one with the ethical convictions, of course, even if those convictions waiver for a while in the face of the riches and opportunity that come with being part of the elite Skulls. When his best friend dies while trying to write a newspaper story on secret societies, Working Class Boy calls on the help of Trusty Female Sidekick/Love Interest to help free him from the clutches of his new pal, Legacy Boy, and the rest of the powerful members of the Skulls. The plot is moderately well developed (even though it's trite and the end feels slapped together at best), and Leslie Bibb does a wonderful job as the only female role of any substance and the only character who seems to have normal human reactions -- like screaming in fear -- to the things going on around her. There are some fun lines and slick moves on the part of the main characters, even beyond that "Hell yes!" scene. So while there are very few interesting characters for a conspiracy-theory story, and while the characters sometimes become caricatures, and even while Paul Walker can't shake being too stiff at times, it's enjoyable enough to pull it out of being a complete mess.

2 Stars