Though ostensibly successful, 2009’s The Final Destination represented to many a horror franchise on its last hackneyed legs. Rote, uninspired and humorless, it scored a (modest) hit only by virtue of the novelty -- and added ticket price -- of its 3D transfer. Two years later, Final Destination 5 arrives with a slightly tweaked formula, a beefed-up storyline, actors you might actually recognize, and genuine, honest-to-goodness 3D. It’s still schlock, mind you -- but artful schlock, and a marked improvement over the preceding entry.
The story begins in familiar fashion, with a cursory introduction to the characters, followed by a grisly premonition that sees them perish wholesale. An assortment of cubicle-dwellers at a paper factory are being bused to a corporate retreat when one of them, Sam (Nicholas D’Agosto, perpetually bug-eyed), dreams of a massive bridge collapse in which he and his co-workers are impaled, beheaded, bisected, crushed by cars, singed by tar -- however many ways a suspension bridge can kill a person, the film’s opening set-piece explores it gruesome detail. Sam awakens, duly horrified, and demands the bus be evacuated. Seconds later, the employees watch in horror from the sidelines as Sam’s vision comes to fruition.
You know what happens next. One-by-one, death stalks the survivors, who meet their fate in a series of elaborately-staged incidents. Some are relatively straightforward; others involve fiendish head-fakes and red herrings. The range of victims is older and more colorful than in previous Final Destination films, in which death preyed exclusively on attractive, nubile teenagers, but the end result is invariably the same. (Not to give anything away, but those considering acupuncture or laser eye surgery would be wise to avoid the film entirely.) As death’s scheme becomes achingly evident, Sam, his lachrymose girlfriend, Molly (Emma Bell), and his increasingly unhinged buddy, Peter (Miles Fisher), become increasingly desperate. Enter the ever-ominous Tony Todd, returning to the franchise after (wisely) taking the previous film off, offering a potential way out. But is it genuine, or just another of death’s cruel tricks?
Director Steven Quale, a James Cameron protege hired principally for his 3D expertise, takes full advantage of the added dimension, delivering some of the most vivid and immersive 3D sequences in recent memory. Unlike The Final Destination, which seemed little more than a amalgam of crude one-liners, Final Destination 5 feels like a real movie, one with a discernible plot, an element of suspense, and a handful characters who are more than just punchlines. Most of the actors are surprisingly competent, save for Fisher, a credible doppelganger for Tom Cruise (he parodied him 2008’s Superhero Movie) who imbues every line with couch-jumping intensity.
Final Destination 5 ends with a twist that, while genuinely unexpected, feels like a Hail Mary for a franchise that can’t forestall its inexorable descent into stale irrelevance, despite the best of efforts from Quale. Its trademark formula has simply lost its potency -- a problem no amount of cosmetic upgrades, however welcome, can fix. That the film is bracketed by two pointless and time-consuming montages -- the first an animated sequence that hurtles various hazardous objects at the audience, the second a greatest hits compilation of memorable kills from previous Final Destination films -- is a telltale sign that the saga’s creativity is on life support. Perhaps it’s time to pull the plug.
Release Date: 08/12/2011
Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hr 35 mins
Genre: Horror
Director: Steven Quale
Cast: Nicholas D'Agosto, Emma Bell, Miles Fisher, Ellen Wroe
Showing posts with label Movie Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movie Review. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Conan the Barbarian (2011) Movie Review
Marcus Nispel’s silly, violent fantasy epic Conan the Barbarian is Hollywood’s second attempt at building a franchise based on pulp author Robert E. Howard’s signature character. The first yielded two films of diminishing quality – 1982’s Conan the Barbarian and 1984’s Conan the Destroyer – and is best remembered for launching the career of future governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose Austrian accent in the films is so thick as to render the bulk of his dialogue unintelligible.
Playing the title role in the update is Jason Momoa, whose muscles aren’t quite as gargantuan as his predecessor’s but whose line-readings are at the very least comprehensible. (His own accent betrays hints of Hawaiian surfer-dude.) Momoa is most famous for his recent turn as a Khal Drogo on the hit HBO series Game of Thrones, a far superior work of hard-R sword-and-sorcery fantasy. Thrones, like Conan the Barbarian, boasts bare breasts and beheadings galore, but beneath the sex and savagery lies real intelligence. All the titillating elements are icing on the cake for a series founded on compelling characters and ingenious storytelling,
Not so much with Conan the Barbarian. The film begins with a lengthy prologue, inexplicably narrated by Morgan Freeman, that briefs us on the essential details of the film’s mythology – and you’d best be paying attention, because the ensuing film treats story and character as so many enemies to be vanquished. The opening scene announces the movie’s savage B-movie ethos thusly: When Conan’s very pregnant mother is injured in battle (barbarians don’t get maternity leave), his father (Ron Perlman) delivers his son via an impromptu battlefield Cesarean, photographed in graphic detail. A warrior is born.
The plot involves a grown-up Conan gunning for revenge against Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang), the sorcerer-chieftan who killed his father and obliterated his tribe, the Cimmerians, when he was just a boy. Conan is something of a rock star in the marauding world, his bloodlust not so all-consuming that he can’t stop to enjoy a flagon of mead with the odd topless slave babe. His credo is cogently expressed as “I live, I love, I slay, I am content” – words to live by if there ever were.
On the path to vengeance, Conan links up with a runaway nun, Tamara (Rachel Nichols), whose special blood is required by Khalar to resurrect his dead wife. Or maybe it’s needed to conquer the Kingdom of Hyboria. Whatever. The attraction between Conan and Tamara is instantaneous and powerful – what girl can resist such charming lines as “Woman, come here,” and “You look like a harlot”? Films like this can usually get by with one female speaking role, but Conan the Barbarian offers a second: Marique (Rose McGowan), a scheming goth-witch whose affection for her father, Khalar, is clearly beyond familial. The role was originally written for a man.
Nispel’s previous films include two horror remakes (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th) and the barely releasable Pathfinder. He directs with casual disregard for context, rushing hurriedly from one bloody set-piece to the next, coherence be damned. Action is paramount in Conan the Barbarian; the film is positively bursting with it, leaving little room for anything that might engage us on any level beyond “guilty pleasure.” Some of the action is memorable, some of it tedious, but the violence is inspired. In one scene, while questioning a man whose nose he’d hacked off just a few frames earlier, Conan jams his finger into the man’s exposed nose-hole, causing it to spew icky clear fluid. Now that is some enhanced interrogation.
Release Date: 08/19/2011
Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hr 52 mins
Genre: Action, Fantasy
Director: Marcus Nispel
Cast: Jason Momoa, Stephen Lang, Rachel Nichols, Ron Perlman
Playing the title role in the update is Jason Momoa, whose muscles aren’t quite as gargantuan as his predecessor’s but whose line-readings are at the very least comprehensible. (His own accent betrays hints of Hawaiian surfer-dude.) Momoa is most famous for his recent turn as a Khal Drogo on the hit HBO series Game of Thrones, a far superior work of hard-R sword-and-sorcery fantasy. Thrones, like Conan the Barbarian, boasts bare breasts and beheadings galore, but beneath the sex and savagery lies real intelligence. All the titillating elements are icing on the cake for a series founded on compelling characters and ingenious storytelling,
Not so much with Conan the Barbarian. The film begins with a lengthy prologue, inexplicably narrated by Morgan Freeman, that briefs us on the essential details of the film’s mythology – and you’d best be paying attention, because the ensuing film treats story and character as so many enemies to be vanquished. The opening scene announces the movie’s savage B-movie ethos thusly: When Conan’s very pregnant mother is injured in battle (barbarians don’t get maternity leave), his father (Ron Perlman) delivers his son via an impromptu battlefield Cesarean, photographed in graphic detail. A warrior is born.
The plot involves a grown-up Conan gunning for revenge against Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang), the sorcerer-chieftan who killed his father and obliterated his tribe, the Cimmerians, when he was just a boy. Conan is something of a rock star in the marauding world, his bloodlust not so all-consuming that he can’t stop to enjoy a flagon of mead with the odd topless slave babe. His credo is cogently expressed as “I live, I love, I slay, I am content” – words to live by if there ever were.
On the path to vengeance, Conan links up with a runaway nun, Tamara (Rachel Nichols), whose special blood is required by Khalar to resurrect his dead wife. Or maybe it’s needed to conquer the Kingdom of Hyboria. Whatever. The attraction between Conan and Tamara is instantaneous and powerful – what girl can resist such charming lines as “Woman, come here,” and “You look like a harlot”? Films like this can usually get by with one female speaking role, but Conan the Barbarian offers a second: Marique (Rose McGowan), a scheming goth-witch whose affection for her father, Khalar, is clearly beyond familial. The role was originally written for a man.
Nispel’s previous films include two horror remakes (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th) and the barely releasable Pathfinder. He directs with casual disregard for context, rushing hurriedly from one bloody set-piece to the next, coherence be damned. Action is paramount in Conan the Barbarian; the film is positively bursting with it, leaving little room for anything that might engage us on any level beyond “guilty pleasure.” Some of the action is memorable, some of it tedious, but the violence is inspired. In one scene, while questioning a man whose nose he’d hacked off just a few frames earlier, Conan jams his finger into the man’s exposed nose-hole, causing it to spew icky clear fluid. Now that is some enhanced interrogation.
Release Date: 08/19/2011
Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hr 52 mins
Genre: Action, Fantasy
Director: Marcus Nispel
Cast: Jason Momoa, Stephen Lang, Rachel Nichols, Ron Perlman
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