Review: "WRECK-IT RALPH"

Starring the voices of: John C. Reilly, Sarah Silverman, Jack McBrayer, Jane Lynch, Alan Tudyk, Mindy Kaling, Ed O'Neil
Directed by: Rich Moore
Written by: Phil Johnston and Jennifer Lee (based on a story by Johnston, Rich Moore, and Jim Reardon)

Despite being unfairly lambasted as brainless or even excessively violent entertainment by some critics (COUGHrogerebertCOUGH), I've always considered video games to be an unsung hero in the world of art and pop culture. Whether it was the simple "crossing the street" of Frogger or the darkly moralistic landscape of BioShock, games from either the arcade or the home console have always had their own unique story to tell, either through its narrative or the countless bits of code strung together to form a visual tale where dialogue isn't even necessary.

After all, some of the best stories-- whether it's literary or cinematic, musical or interactive-- are simple tales of good versus evil, and if anything, video games aren't video games without these essential archetypes. What's Mario without a Bowser? What's Sonic without a Dr. Robotnik? What's Oregon Trail without a... I don't know, dysentery?

But what if those villains stuck in their big shiny boxes get tired of losing and being vilified, game after game? It must get pretty monotonous to get beaten at the final stage and let the hero get all the glory all the time. Why can't they be a hero for once? In director Rich Moore's hugely inspired and wonderfully nostalgic animated comedy Wreck-It Ralph, the final boss gets a chance to aim for the high score.

For the last 30 years, Wreck-It Ralph (voice of John C. Reilly) has served as the destructive villain in the arcade game Fix-It Felix, Jr., where the eponymous carpenter hero (voice of Jack McBrayer) saves a building from being demolished by Ralph, ultimately throwing Ralph off the building and earning the adulation of the townspeople. But once the arcade closes, the game characters have a life of their own, with all the arcade cabinets connected in their own digital universe by way of a surge protector serving as a "central station" of sorts.

But while Felix enjoys the fruits of a popular hero's life, Ralph spends his nights by himself in a junk pile, friendless and lonely. Tired of always playing the villain and wanting to prove his worth as a hero --and learning that he can earn the love of his game's townspeople if he wins a game's "hero medal"-- Ralph goes AWOL from his game and enters the world of the first-person shooter Hero's Duty, which features the no-nonsense Sgt. Calhoun (voice of Jane Lynch) leading a platoon of troops against an army of dangerous Cy-Bug monsters.

Hoping to win that game's medal, Ralph infiltrates Hero's Duty-- even though leaving his home game means that he cannot regenerate if he dies-- and does just that, but an encounter with a stray Cy-Bug sends Ralph into the candy-coated world of the racing game Sugar Rush, which is led by racing champion King Candy (voice of Alan Tudyk). There, Ralph meets the diminutive Vanellope von Schweetz (voice of Sarah Silverman), a hyperactive "glitch" in the game who uses Ralph's medal as a means to enter a big race.

As Ralph deals with trying to regain his medal by reluctantly helping Vanellope win the race, he must contend with the schemes of King Candy, not to mention a possible infestation of Sugar Rush by the Cy-Bugs, all while Felix tries to retrieve Ralph before their own game is shut down for good.

Ever since hearing of Wreck-It Ralph's development, I was extremely excited for the film's release, especially after seeing the clever trailer. I grew up with arcades (back when they were still fashionable and not overshadowed by the uber-expensive "barcades" such as Dave & Buster's) and the classic 2D home consoles such as Nintendo and Sega Genesis, so any film dealing with retro gaming (and I use "retro" in a loving, unironic sense) is an immediate point of interest for me.

Overall, movies that have used classic games or aspects of the medium as part of their plot have more or less hit the mark (whether it was the stupendous documentary The King of Kong or the comic book/video game mashup Scott Pilgrim vs. The World), so when I heard that Disney's latest animated feature would be a loving send-up of the 8-bit classics of my past, my expectations were very high.

After seeing the film, I'd just like to say that whoever gave the go-ahead for the movie is an unparalleled genius. A technical marvel and an emotionally satisfying treat for both kids and old-school gamers, Wreck-It Ralph is a brilliant homage to arcade games on a level that gives the folks at Pixar a run for their money in terms of computer animation, terrific storytelling, and a painstaking eye for detail.

I laughed out loud during the many occasions where I caught reference after reference to video games that would make a gamer junkie squeal, from the video game villain support group that Ralph attends (the pep talk he gets from the ghost from Pac-Man and Zangief from Street Fighter is priceless) to the presence of Q*Bert as a vagrant in the surge protector where all the game characters intersect (another brilliant touch in terms of Toy Story-esque anthropomorphism) are nostalgic gold. I was amazed that the Mouse House managed to get permission to have so many existing game characters show up (much like the case in Who Framed Roger Rabbit), but when you have a screenplay as clever as this, you can only imagine game companies jumping at the chance to represent here.

The cast is terrific across the board, with a winning hero in John C. Reilly's "villain", whose chemistry with Sarah Silverman's bratty racer is pitch-perfect. Jack McBrayer (Kenneth the Page from TV's "30 Rock") injects his usual folksy demeanor as the wholesome Fix-It Felix, and the great Jane Lynch is all tough-talking grit as the heroine from the Halo parody, Hero's Duty.

And as I pointed out earlier, the detail in Ralph is immaculate. There are so many big and little touches that evoke the visual elements of video games from past and present: for example, when Ralph smashes apart a cake, the dessert's splatter is depicted as being "pixelated". When a race begins in Sugar Rush, the camera swivels behind the racers the same way it did in racing games like Mario Kart. It's details like these that give the film its character, and I had a big ol' smile on my face from start to finish.

It's likely that a lot of the video game jokes and references will fly over the heads of young kids or some older adults who never got into games post-Pong, but Wreck-It Ralph still manages to entertain and engage without the need for the audience to be arcade enthusiasts. A hopeful shoo-in for awards season and a reminder that there are still plenty of great, original stories left to tell in Movieland, Wreck-It Ralph is a huge Level-Up for animated storytelling and entertainment.

Letter Grade: "A"

Review: "SKYFALL"

Starring: Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Judi Dench, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw, Albert Finney, Berenice Lim Marlohe, Ola Rapace
Directed by: Sam Mendes
Written by: Neal Purvis, John Logan, and Robert Wade (based on the character created by Ian Fleming)

There's that old and somewhat overused saying about being able to "teach an old dog new tricks", where you can prove that something or someone seemingly beyond their prime can adapt to the times and still show the young'uns how it's done. Of course, there's always a nagging doubt about whether or not they can really catch that second wind, and whether or not it's possible to stay relevant and popular in a constantly-changing world.

This quandary can easily be applied to the venerable and iconic "James Bond" film franchise, which released its first of twenty-three entries-- Dr. No-- fifty years ago. It's astounding to comprehend that novelist Ian Fleming's British MI6 Agent 007 is marking his Golden Jubilee, but after 23 films of varying quality and six different actors playing the now legendary role, it's almost inevitable that there's been a little bit of wear and tear in the franchise.

Granted, Eon Productions tried to shake things up in 2006 by rebooting Mr. Bond into the 21st century with a grittier, more realistic, post-9/11 portrayal with the exhilarating Casino Royale, this time with the steely-eyed Daniel Craig successfully reinvigorating the character, giving him more emotional depth and pathos than previously seen. But when the subpar sequel Quantum of Solace hit theaters two years later, many thought that Bond's critically lauded relaunch was just a fluke, and that the series' better days were behind it. But thanks to a thrilling, nostalgic, and streamlined threequel in the form of director Sam Mendes' Skyfall, it's clear that 007 has a lot more fight in him than previously thought.

British MI6 Agent James Bond-- designated 007-- is believed dead after a covert operation in Turkey has gone awry. Bond and his fellow agent Eve (Naomie Harris) have been chasing mercenary Patrice (Ola Rapace), who had stolen a hard drive containing the true identities of every undercover NATO agent and is planning to sell it to an unknown benefactor. Bond is shot during the fracas and falls into the sea, adding political pressure to his agency superior M (Judi Dench) from Intelligence Chairman Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes) to retire in light of the crisis.

Making matters worse is an explosion at MI6 headquarters by a mysterious cyberterrorist, forcing the agency to relocate underground. By this time, Bond returns to London and is approached by M to help find the bomber, but Mallory and others doubt Bond's abilities due to his age and nagging injuries. Nonetheless, Bond is cleared by M to return to field duty, receiving tech and weaponry support by new MI6 quartermaster Q (Ben Whishaw) and joins Eve in tracking Patrice to Shanghai.

Bond's mission eventually leads him to encounter the mastermind behind the various attacks on British Intelligence: Raoul Silva (Javier Bardem), an unstable genius who may or may not have a personal connection to M. Bond must do whatever he can to thwart Silva's plot before his revenge-driven schemes succeed.

After the smashing success of Casino Royale, it really was a disappointment for Quantum of Solace to not replicate the qualities that made the Bond reboot such a blast to watch. Sprawling, confusing, and sometimes outright boring, Solace revived fears that 007 finally lost his luster, leaving the franchise's future in doubt, especially regarding the financial difficulties of distributor MGM. But the four-year gap gave Eon the necessary time to recover and rebuild rather than give up.

It seemed to have paid off, thanks to an inspired choice of a director in Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition), who gets Bond back on track with a story that acknowledges the changing times in both the real world and the film's narrative, but also acknowledges how sometimes the old ways can still work best (M's dilemma regarding the Prime Minister possibly dissolving MI6 due to supposedly being obsolete is an obvious analogy to the film series' current situation).

Mendes effortlessly manages to bring Bond back to basics, retaining the post-Royale realism while still injecting a heaping helping of nostalgia and Connery-era energy. Mendes probably also realized that when you release a Bond film on the series' 50th anniversary, you'd better pull out all of the stops to pay respect to its history and please longtime fans. There's the shaken martinis, the Aston-Martin, the thrilling action sequence cold open (this time around it's a chase on top of a speeding train, though I don't think anyone can top the crazy-as-shit footchase from Royale), and even reintroduction of classic Bond characters in the Reboot Era.

The best of the bunch is the new Q (previously played by Peter Burton, Desmond Llewelyn, and John Cleese), and here Bond's weapons and tech guru isn't some kindly old man with exploding pens and laser-armed Polaroid cameras, but a twentysomething computer nerd played with a perfect combination of wit and vigor that pokes loving fun at the cartoonish qualities of Bonds of decades' past.

Once again, Craig proves himself to be the best Bond since Connery, if not better. Taciturn, tough as nails, yet extremely vulnerable, Craig gives 007 even more depth and dimension than folks like Connery, Roger Moore, Pierce Brosnan et al. ever could. We learn more about Bond's past, his shaky relationship with M, and his struggle with middle age and whether or not he's cut out for the life of a spy when he's so irreparably broken, both physically and emotionally.

The rest of the cast ranges from good to excellent, especially Javier Bardem as yet another sociopathic villain with a peculiar hairstyle (though it fails to top his Oscar-winning turn in No Country for Old Men). Though his Silva is no Auric Goldfinger by any means, it's an interesting spin the usual Bond villain archetype thanks in part to his deeply personal link to M and Bardem's wonderfully unbalanced and flamboyant performance. Dench once again nails her role as M, and it's refreshing to see Ralph Fiennes in a non-villain role for once.

The fight sequences are fantastic, thanks in large part to Roger Deakins' jaw-dropping cinematography, such as a nighttime fight with the combatants' silhouettes placed against the neon backdrop of Shanghai. Deakins captures such varied locations as rural Scotland and metropolitan London with striking vibrance and detail, and it's a brilliant complement to the already brilliant script, direction, and cast.

But, as hinted at earlier, the best part of Skyfall is the consistent vibe of Bond nostalgia, whether it's the one-liners and character quirks or the tricked-out cars and that wonderful surf-rock theme music cue that's been planted in the cultural consciousness for the last five decades. By sticking to its newfound 21st century tone while still respecting and even giving several shoutouts to what made the franchise great in the first place, Skyfall rectifies the missteps of the last entry and assures us all that no matter what era or what actor, James Bond is always here to stay.

Letter Grade: "A"

Review: "ARGO"

Starring: Ben Affleck, Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, John Goodman, Victor Garber, Kyle Chandler, Rory Cochrane, Christopher Denham, Clea DuVall, Scoot McNairy, Kerry Bishe, Tate Donovan
Directed by: Ben Affleck
Written by: Chris Terrio (based on the article "The Great Escape" by Joshuah Bearman and the book "The Master of Disguise" by Antonio Mendez)

I like Ben Affleck. Despite the enormous amount of mockery and parodying the man has taken over the years (some of it lighthearted, some of it scathing), I've always found him to be an incredibly talented actor and screenwriter. Of course, when you've been the lead star for craptacular blockbusters such as Pearl Harbor and Armageddon, atrocious bombs such as Gigli and Surviving Christmas, and one half of the unfortunate media frenzy known as "Bennifer", your positive and well-received accomplishments tend to be slightly overshadowed in the process.

And it's a shame, considering the fact that the man is a Best Original Screenplay Oscar winner with his BFF Matt Damon, a skilled comedic and dramatic actor, and a generous humanitarian. Of course, everyone makes mistakes, even movie stars; in this case, it was taking on paycheck roles in horrible movies and dating J. Lo. But even when Affleck was at his lowest, he took his failures in stride and jumpstarted a career resurrection, first with a terrific supporting role as George Reeves in the murder mystery Hollywoodland, and then adding a new role to his resume: Ben Affleck, Director.

Affleck surprised everyone with his solid freshman effort Gone Baby Gone in 2007, and followed it up in 2010 with the superb heist flick The Town. Now Mr. Affleck has pulled off the hat trick in his Eastwood-esque career renaissance with Argo, a tense, terrific docudrama that chronicles a relatively unknown government operation that took place during one of the most calamitous episodes in the history of American foreign relations.

Tehran, 1979. A revolution is in full swing after the U.S.-backed leader of Iran, Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, is deposed and exiled by anti-American militants. The American embassy in Tehran is violently seized by the militants, with most of the diplomats and workers taken hostage, except for six who sneak out under the Iranians' noses: Joe and Kathy Stafford (Scoot McNairy and Kerry Bishe), Robert Anders (Tate Donovan), Mark and Cora Lijek (Christopher Denham and Clea DuVall), and Lee Schatz (Rory Cochrane). The six Americans secretly take refuge in the home of Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber), but are otherwise trapped in a country that wants them imprisoned or worse.

Despite the newly formed Islamic Republic of Iran being unaware of the six Americans' escape, the American State Department is frantically thinking of a means to extract them from the country. CIA supervisor Jack O'Donnell (Bryan Cranston) recruits specialist Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck) to devise a plot to save the embassy workers. After several ideas fizzle out, Mendez watches Battle of the Planet of the Apes on television and is inspired with an idea that's so crazy that it just might work.

Mendez proposes that he poses as a Canadian film producer scouting locations in Iran for a low-budget science fiction film, and he would provide the embassy workers with fake credentials that would give them the identities of his fellow Canadian film crew members. Despite serious skepticism from the higher-ups, Mendez gets the go-ahead. Creating a fake movie studio with legendary producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) and makeup guru John Chambers (John Goodman), Mendez finds a discarded script for a sci-fi film called Argo, and sets out to Iran to save the American refugees.

As Iranian authorities become dangerously close to discovering the identities of the missing embassy workers, Mendez must race against time and ensure that his ruse succeeds in getting his fellow countrymen out of Iran alive.

Based on an actual joint operation between the American and Canadian governments that was declassified by President Clinton in 1997, Argo may seem like your everyday action caper, but is greatly enhanced by a strong script, taut direction by Affleck, and lean editing that's bolstered by a surprising level of humor that complements the dramatic tension.

It's a fascinating story-- albeit one that allegedly takes ample dramatic license with what actually happened, most notably the downplaying of the Canadian government's huge role in the operation's success-- but on its surface as a dramatic thriller, it's fabulous storytelling. Affleck gets better and better with each film he directs, with a specific focus on nailbiting tension and three-dimensional characters whose vulnerabilities balance easily with their strengths.

As Mendez, Affleck does a fine job conveying his character's disaffection with his career and the strain it's placed on his family life. Affleck takes up the bulk of the heavy acting load here, except for the wonderful Bryan Cranston (TV's "Breaking Bad") as Mendez' no-nonsense CIA superior, and the great Alan Arkin and John Goodman show up as Mendez' Hollywood contacts, serving as a welcome main source of Argo's comedy.

The film's aesthetic is late '70s cinema-grit to a "T", with dimly-lit cinematography and era-appropriate editing (and they even throw in the old-school 1970s Warner Brothers logo at the very beginning). The score by Alexandre Desplat is one of the best of the year, and the costuming and set direction are all spot-on.

The only major gripe I had with Argo was its sometimes uncomfortably one-sided depiction of the Iranian Hostage Crisis, with most if not all of the Iranian characters being portrayed as bloodthirsty and hostile. I understand the need for the film to have a "villain" present, and though it's true that a lot of Iranians were obviously a wee bit mercurial during that era, it's hard to find more than one non-Caucasian character in the film, apart from the Canadian ambassador's Iranian housekeeper, who's at least partially well-balanced in the head.

But apart from that and the previously mentioned issue regarding the overglorification of the CIA's role in the operation, Argo is an excellent example of not only a great American thriller, but also a testament to the talent of an actor-director whose comeback from the tabloid graveyard doesn't seem to be slowing down one bit.

Letter Grade: "A-"

Review: "SEVEN PSYCHOPATHS"

Starring: Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell, Christopher Walken, Woody Harrelson, Tom Waits, Željko Ivanek, Abbie Cornish, Linda Bright Clay, Olga Kurylenko
Directed by: Martin McDonagh
Written by: Martin McDonagh

As a film buff, I'd like to think that I have a heavy appreciation for all kinds of cinema, but if you held a gun to my head and asked me what my favorite kind of genre I preferred above all others, I would probably have to go with the pitch-black dark comedies: films that possess material that would be otherwise grim, and yet are trivialized and made as a source of deadpan and even sick humor.

And while some may find such a concept to be in poor taste (although that's kinda part of the whole point), I've always enjoyed the genre because it unlocks a dark, uncomfortable area in the viewer's psyche, where such gallows humor provokes contemplation on serious issues or themes. It tests and pushes the envelope of the viewer's mind, and sees how long they can last in both hysterics and discomfort at the same time.

It's a fascinating subject that I've personally enjoyed consuming and studying for a long time. A recent example would be the terrific 2008 crime comedy In Bruges, helmed by director Martin McDonagh. Deliciously sharp-witted yet deeply vulnerable and human, the film-- in my opinion-- helped set the bar for black comedies in terms of craft and respectability (the screenplay received a Best Original Screenplay Oscar nod, a rarity for comedies). Luckily, that bar was met (and maybe surpassed) by McDonagh's latest, the brilliantly funny and gleefully unpredictable Seven Psychopaths.

Marty Faranan (Colin Farrell) is a Hollywood screenwriter currently past his deadline for his latest script. Despite having a title ("Seven Psychopaths"), Marty is suffering from a serious case of writer's block. It doesn't help that he has a strained relationship with his live-in girlfriend Kaya (Abbie Cornish), that he has quite the drinking problem, or that his best friend Billy Bickle (Sam Rockwell) puts out an unasked-for advertisement for serial killers to give Marty script advice.

Billy, meanwhile, is an unemployed actor and con artist who makes a living with his pacifist friend Hans (Christopher Walken) kidnapping dogs and then returning them for the reward money. However, Billy and Hans encounter a huge problem when they unwittingly steal the prized shih tzu of psychotic mobster Charlie Costello (Woody Harrelson). Eventually, Costello discovers who stole his precious pooch, and soon Billy and Hans are on the run, sucking Marty into the mess along the way.

As the three men-- shih tzu in tow-- evade the trigger-happy Costello and his lieutenant Paulo (Željko Ivanek), they must also deal with a notorious masked serial killer known as the Jack of Diamonds, a mysterious rabbit-fixated gentleman (Tom Waits), and revelations of certain characters' pasts.

Probably one of the best things about Seven Psychopaths is how unapologetically meta-referential it is. It is, essentially, a screenplay about screenwriting, with the ever-dashing Farrell standing in for McDonagh himself. Serving as the straight man to the extreme dark-comic foils of his co-stars, Farrell serves as the main character in his own personal life-cum-film that seems creepily similar to the very script he writes along the way. There are plenty of biting jokes at filmmaking's expense (my favorite is the comment that women are either killed or used sparingly in action flicks, and yet the animals involved always live), cliches that come to life in ridiculously funny fantasy sequences, and pretty much any kind of Adaptation-esque cinematic deconstruction that you can think of.

The cast, by and large, is absolutely marvelous. Farrell gives an exasperated performance that clashes beautifully with the devilishly sardonic and increasingly bizarre actions of the wonderful and reliably funny Rockwell. Christopher Walken? I mean, it's fucking Christopher Walken. More subdued but still his usual certifiably insane self, Walken steals the entire show. His line delivery and trademark eccentricities are the stuff of legend, and here he manages to inject a dimension into his character that straddles Zen peacefulness and severe anguish.

Harrelson is hysterical as the batshit-crazy gangster whose near-maternal devotion to his dog is the only thing remotely human about him, and there are plenty of unexpected cameos sprinkled throughout (including an extended bit with the great Tom Waits).

Although it's incredibly funny and satirical to its core (Rockwell's unraveling of a Gandhi quote being a highlight), Seven Psychopaths is also brutally violent and isn't shy about saying so, with a lot of the violence coming straight out of nowhere (and, again, adding to the sick laughs department by tying the carnage to mundane situations). The musings on the human condition and the fine line between serenity and revenge seems rather Tarantinoesque at times, especially with the pop-savvy trappings of the dialogue, but McDonagh manages to make the film his own.

Clearly, to McDonagh, everyone in this world is psychotic in their own little ways, and the blur between realities in-film serves as an effective mirror to the debate regarding art vs. reality and whether or not inspiration comes from the former, the latter, or even both at the same time.

Not as deep or emotionally devastating as In Bruges but every bit of hilarious and then some, Seven Psychopaths is a start-to-finish exercise is brilliant casting and deranged humor.

Letter Grade: "A"

Review: "THE CAMPAIGN"

Starring: Will Ferrell, Zach Galifianakis, Jason Sudeikis, Dylan McDermott, Dan Aykroyd, John Lithgow, Sarah Baker, Katherine LaNasa, Brian Cox, Karen Maruyama
Directed by: Jay Roach
Written by: Chris Henchy and Shawn Harwell (based on a story by Henchy, Harwell, and Adam McKay)

In this day and age, and especially in the United States, there might be no grander comedy than the realm of politics. What's supposed to be an institution meant to serve the people and improve the well-being of the country's socioeconomic fabric has instead morphed into a corrupt, self-parodying carnival of saber-rattling and divisive manipulation of the voting public.

That's especially true right now, seeing how we're deeply entrenched in election season and how attack ads and political mudslinging are at a fever pitch. And as the last several presidential elections have proven, the saddening conventions of American politics have served for extremely easy satirical fodder. After all, politicians have largely proven to be, at their core, well-groomed cartoon characters, so director Jay Roach has a relatively easy time translating such archetypes into his broad yet surprisingly funny comedy The Campaign.

Cam Brady (Will Ferrell) has served as the Democratic congressman in the 14th District of North Carolina for four-terms, and is having quite the easy ride heading to the impending election, as he's expected to win since he has no challenger on the ballot. However, Cam has been plagued by a series of scandals involving his affair with a supporter of his, causing quite the public relations headache for Cam and his longtime campaign manager Mitch (Jason Sudeikis).

Meanwhile, corrupt businessmen and brotherly duo Wade Motch (Dan Aykroyd) and Glen Motch (John Lithgow) take advantage of the situation by attempting to back a Republican challenger whom they would manipulate into turning the picturesque North Carolina town of Hammond into a factory town that would grant the brother huge and rather illegal profits from a deal with Chinese manufacturing companies.

They find such a patsy in the form of Marty Huggins (Zach Galifianakis), the good-natured yet somewhat dimwitted son of the Motches' rich and politically influential associate Raymond Huggins (Brian Cox). Though Marty-- a devout Christian family man and the director of tourism for Hammond-- is clearly out of his league, he's enthusiastically decides to run against the far more experienced Cam when the Motches provide a campaign manager in the form of the ruthless Tim Wattley (Dylan McDermott).

In the weeks leading up to the election, Cam ramps up the efforts to discredit the inexperienced Marty, who eventually catches up with the political process and serves as a formidable opponent to Cam as the increasingly vicious campaign barrels towards Election Day.

I was initially reluctant to see The Campaign for two reasons: the somewhat underwhelming trailer that seemed to be the ol' fashioned "cobble together all the funny parts" marketing strategy, and the fact that it was yet another broad comedy starring Will Ferrell. I've always appreciated Ferrell and his vast comedic talents, but nearly his entire filmography consisted of Ferrell acting out his now-signature hyperactive man-child persona in a movie whose plot would have worked better as a five-minute "Saturday Night Live" sketch instead of a stretched-out 90-minute misfire.

Of course, on the other hand, Ferrell is no stranger to political comedy, seeing as how he masterfully and famously spoofed former President George W. Bush during his time on "SNL". And considering that director Roach (Austin Powers, Meet the Parents) has had his own experience in covering the three-ring circus we call politics in the forms of the HBO dramas Recount and Game Change, I decided to give this offering a chance.

And surprise of all surprises, I was actually impressed with the final product. Now I wouldn't go as far as calling The Campaign a sharp political satire in the same vein as films like, say, Wag the Dog or Bulworth. The film isn't subtle by any means in its attempts at putting American politics under a humorous microscope. The gags and jabs are pretty straightforward in their execution, and the thinly veiled analogues of real-life politicians and figures are obvious from the start (Ferrell's Brady is essentially a pastiche of Sen. John Edwards and Ferrell's own Dubya impersonation, and the Motch brothers are a clear potshot at billionaire conservative business magnates, the Koch brothers).

But the film's major strength lies with the two leads. Despite playing yet another variation of his flamboyantly immature screen persona (albeit toned down at least one notch), Ferrell actually makes it work this time. In fact, it sometimes works beautifully in the context of the material, as the characters-- cartoonishly exaggerated as they may be-- are a rather accurate personification of the manipulative and manipulated men and women that we vote into office, whether it's the ridiculously volatile campaign ads or the "guilt by association" smear tactics now synonymous with election season.

And there couldn't be a better choice of opponent for Ferrell than the ingeniously funny Galifianakis, whose character's goofy and naive nature meshes beautifully with his pure-of-heart personality and integrity, giving us a great underdog to root for. The chemistry between the two men is brilliant, and their back-and-forth debates and slapstick interactions are an absolute hoot (you'd think that a baby being punched in the face wouldn't be appropriate comedic material, but they prove you wrong).

The rest of the cast is mostly servicable, including Baker as Marty's supportive wife, Sudeikis as Cam's level-headed manager and confidant, and McDermott as a hilariously aggressive and shady underling to Aykroyd and Lithgow's characters (despite the fact that the veteran actors are wasted in their excessively nefarious roles).

It's unfortunate (yet not entirely unexpected) that The Campaign does very little to shed new light on the sad state of politics, whether it's disingenuous campaign tactics, unscrupulous campaign financing by corporations, or the fact that a vast majority of politicians are merely puppets being led to pander to constituents while simultaneously betraying their own values and once well-intentioned political ambitions.

But at the same time, The Campaign can be forgiven for its faults when it's as consistently funny as it is. The sight gags and crude humor are by and large incredibly funny (I will never, ever tire of seeing a happy-go-lucky Galifianakis walking around in a giant mustache and ill-fitting turtleneck), and there's a large dimension of humanity in the lead characters, especially when the two converse about why the originally wanted to enter politics, giving Cam and Marty a surprising amount of depth and vulnerability.

Yes, it's over the top and decidedly raunchy. But in all honesty, so are politics. When you realize that outrageous moments in the film such as tweeting a picture of one's genitals, accusing opponents of Islamic extremism, or shooting somebody with a hunting rifle have actually been perpetrated by some of our own actual politicians, you can give The Campaign the benefit of the doubt.

Letter Grade: "B"

Review: "PROMETHEUS"

Starring: Noomi Rapace, Logan Marshall-Green, Michael Fassbender, Charlize Theron, Idris Elba, Sean Harris, Rafe Spall, Guy Pearce
Directed by: Ridley Scott
Written by: Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof

"In space, no one can hear you scream."

That was the now-immortal tagline that graced the poster of director Ridley Scott's 1979 sci-fi/horror masterpiece, Alien. And indeed, this was a concrete case of truth in advertising. A terrifying and teeth-gnashing exercise in sheer cinematic horror, Scott's film was a landmark in both genres, as well as an early example of both surrealist "body horror" and feminist heroism that left a series of pale imitators in its wake.

It was followed was a series of films that included entries helmed by future superstar directors James Cameron and David Fincher, as well as two spin-offs crossing over with the Predator franchise. But after those two AvP flicks petered out commercially and critically, it was unknown as to whether or not we would return to the universe that Scott built. And lo and behold, after a very long sabbatical, the Creator returns to explore the beginnings of his Alien universe in the incredibly ambitious but philsophically ambiguous quasi-prequel Prometheus.

It's the year 2093 A.D., and the starship Prometheus has just arrived to its destination after a long two-year journey. Coming out of cryo-stasis is its crew, headed by archaeologists Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green). Four years earlier, the two had discovered a star map in Scotland that was linked to several different finds across the world, leading them to believe it was a sign from the actual creators, or "Engineers", of the human race.

With the funding of the wealthy and now-deceased Peter Weyland (Guy Pearce), Shaw and Holloway obtained their ship and a crew consisting of pilot Janek (Idris Elba), geologist Fifield (Sean Harris), biologist Millburn (Rafe Spall), and an android named David (Michael Fassbender), who was considered to be a son to Weyland. Accompanied and overseen by the pragmatic Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron), the crew have landed on a distant moon, discovering a pyramid-like landmark that was obviously built by something other than nature itself.

However, Shaw and Holloway's quest to discover the true origins of mankind are hindered when they enter the labyrinth below, and the crew must contend with terrifying forces that threaten not only the mission, but also themselves and possibly the Earth itself.

Admittedly, I was very anxious to witness Scott's big comeback to his creation. Even though James Cameron's Aliens was my personal favorite in the series, I nonetheless revered the original film for its masterful use of claustrophobic suspense, idiosyncratic visual and tonal aesthetics, and a bone-chilling villain that will go down in history as one of the all-time great Hollywood monsters.

But like any long-awaited return to a revered franchise, hype and impossibly high expectations reared its ugly head (remember the Star Wars prequels?). After all, this was Scott's first foray in the science-fiction realm since his 1982 seminal classic Blade Runner, and there was some doubt as to whether or not he could equal or even exceed the brilliance of his previous Alien flick.

Also adding to the worries was whether or not this was a true prequel to the franchise. Before the film's release, Scott went on record to say that while Prometheus indeed took place in the Alien universe, the connections were minor at best, and that his new project would branch out on its own while raising new "questions".

Primarily, those questions revolved around the true origins of humanity, and whether or not those far-off "engineers" had anything to do with it. A lot of my peers who saw the film before me alternately complained about or lauded the fact that the film asked questions that never got answered, but quite frankly, I never noticed any real questions to begin with. When I was expecting a Tree of Life-style existential mindfuck, I instead got a film that tried to ask lofty questions but dropped them almost entirely by the third act. I wasn't confused at all, and it was kind of disappointing, if you ask me.

But the biggest problem for me was how surprisingly predictable the film was. I easily called out almost every single plot twist and swerve, ranging from scary jump scenes and alien kills to the character revelations and connections to the Alien films that were a lot more numerous than Scott let on-- in fact, the latter serves as fanservice filler that contradicts Scott's very specific goal of making Prometheus its own unique animal. We've seen this stuff before, and it just would have been nice for Scott to save all the homage for an inevitable sequel or threequel and leave a bit of mystery for the viewers.

But let's not take away from the fact that this is Ridley Scott we're talking about, because aside from the issues with the plot and somewhat on-the-nose script, Prometheus is a visually gorgeous and proficiently-acted picture. Like the films before it, Prometheus is loaded with killer production design and creature features, with clear Lovecraftian and Giger-esque influence fueling the various alien monsters and environments. Reportedly shot on mostly practical sets (rather than using an abundance of green screens), the film definitely has the "epic scope" pat down. Scott also hasn't lost his touch on the gross-out/claustrophobic scares, including one disturbing scene that's not only a nice homage to the classic "chestburster" scene from the 1979 original, but one that puts a horrific twist on the phrase, "the miracle of life".

The cast is mostly stellar across the board. Though she only has the Sigourney Weaver "whoop-ass heroine" thing kick in by the third act, Noomi Rapace is good as the vulnerable yet determined scientist. Marshall-Green, Spall, and Harris do what they can with their various crewmember roles, though there's plenty of charisma and humor from Elba (who's fast becoming one of my favorite "up-and-coming" actors).

Theron seems to be continuing her streak of "bitchy ice queen" roles (following last year's Young Adult and this summer's Snow White and the Huntsman), this time as the mission's steely overseer who has more than a few secrets of her own (not to mention a plethora of skintight uniforms, a development that I absolutely had NO problem with).

The best role, however, goes to the impossibly talented Michael Fassbender as the calm, collected, and slightly devious android. His David is a mix of the impeccably proper C-3PO and the chillingly logical and motivated HAL-9000, a creation who seems to be increasingly disdainful of his creators and the perception that his lack of humanity makes him subordinate to his homo sapien superiors. It's a terrific performance that Fassbender can just throw on top of the pile of his many other terrific performances.

I knew I was going to be conflicted after seeing Prometheus, but I wasn't expecting to be conflicted for reasons other than what I was predicting. The film certainly had an air of grand ambition to it, a drive to become "that movie" which would alter the artistic and psychological landscape of cinema forever. If it hadn't cannibalized the conventions of its franchise forebears and stuck to its own unique path, it could have very well happened. But this marked, quite possibly, the very first time where I entered a heady film and left the theater looking for questions instead of looking for answers. Though certainly not a bad film by any stretch, Prometheus nonetheless falls victim to its own ambition.

Letter Grade: "C+"

Review: "THE DARK KNIGHT RISES"

Starring: Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, Morgan Freeman, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Marion Cotillard, Matthew Modine
Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Written by: Christopher Nolan and Jonathan Nolan (based on a story by David S. Goyer and Christopher Nolan; based on the DC Comics character created by Bob Kane)

At the end of the first entry of Christopher Nolan's masterful reboot of the Batman film series, Batman Begins, a comment is made about the dangers of escalation, where a response to a threat is responded to with an even greater threat, until it spirals out of control. After narrowly defeating a terrorist plot hatched by his former mentor, it was all too clear to the Caped Crusader (and the audience) that it was only going to get worse.

In the sequel, the tremendously masterful The Dark Knight, escalation came in the form of a crazed psychopath in clown make-up, who was less interested in cleansing Gotham City, but more interested in destroying its soul, and exposing our hero to the possibility that even he could be corrupted. This was true escalation: it went beyond the usual good vs. evil scenario common to the superhero genre, and not only challenged the black-and-white worldview of our hero in terms of nobility and criminality, but challenged ours as well. Even if the hero won in the end, the damage was already done.

After that inexplicably terrific outing by Nolan--smashing box office records and gaining critical raves previously unheard of for a superhero picture-- how on Earth could he possibly top it? It was obvious that a third and final entry was needed to conclude the Dark Knight's epic journey, but with the bar set so ridiculously high, it seemed practically impossible for Nolan to deliver an even better film (or even one just as good). And while his concluding entry, The Dark Knight Rises, is a highly proficient way to close out the trilogy, it doesn't even come close to matching its predecessor in terms of a compelling villain, narrative cohesion, or sheer psychological complexity.

It's been eight years since the vigilante Batman-- secretly billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale)-- took the blame for the crimes of shining knight District Attorney-turned-disfigured madman Harvey Dent. In order to uphold the deceased Dent's reputation as a beacon of hope for the people of Gotham City and subsequently bring about the organized crime-busting Dent Act, Batman and Police Commissioner Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) shoulder Dent's murders and eventual death on the Dark Knight's shoulders, forcing the fugitive superhero into hiding.

As Gotham enjoys an unprecedented era of peace, the injured Bruce now secludes himself in his mansion, despite the insistence of his lifelong butler and confidant Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Caine) to go back into the world, especially considering that Bruce's inattentiveness to Wayne Enterprises has placed the company-- chaired by weapons developer Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman)-- in fiduciary peril. Despite attempts by board member Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard) to convince Bruce to relaunch a clean energy project, there's also the problem of rival Roland Daggett (Ben Mendelsohn) trying to take hold of the company by way of hiring the enigmatic, masked mercenary Bane (Tom Hardy) and cat burglar Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway) to help undermine Wayne Enterprises.

However, Bane has other plans. A musclebound hulk of tremendous intelligence, Bane's escalating machinations to overrun Gotham forces Bruce to come out of retirement and face this new foe head-on. However, Bane proves to be more formidable than Batman expects, and as Bane's plot places the city in increasing danger, Batman must do all he can to save millions of lives, depending on the help of a few, including Gordon, Fox, Deputy Commissioner Foley (Matthew Modine), young and idealistic cop John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), and eventually, Kyle herself.

It was scientifically impossible, honestly, for Nolan to outdo himself after the second entry of his brilliant reimagining of the Batman mythos. While Batman Begins was an intimate and thoroughly enjoyable about-face for a superhero that had previously suffered the cinematic wounds of Bat-nipples and retractable ice skates, The Dark Knight broke all the rules. It revolutionized the superhero movie and steeped it in a dark, gritty, thematically complex environment that was in stark contrast to the colorful, flamboyant tone of the Spider-Man films or even Tim Burton's original Batman films.

It also helped that Batman himself, Christian Bale, was completely outshined by the villainous Joker, played to magnificent, frightening perfection by the late Heath Ledger, who tragically passed six months before the film's release. Ledger's Oscar-winning performance as the Joker stole the show and then some, giving the Dark Knight not only a formidable opponent, but one who dug furiously into the hero's psyche and soul, nearly destroying Gotham just to prove that Batman was just as insane as he was.

So did Nolan have his work cut out for him? Yeah, pretty much. And that's where escalation comes in: if The Dark Knight nearly brought Gotham to implode, then naturally The Dark Knight Rises causes the city to break out into all-out war. It's impossible not to draw any similarities of the "haves and have-nots" subplot of class warfare in the story to the recent Occupy Wall Street protests, not to mention the terrorism plots of Bane and his cohorts bringing immediate visualizations of 9/11 and the subsequent War on Terror. But even if Nolan didn't intend to directly reference those real-world incidents, there's still plenty of thematic heaviness to bulk the sometimes laboriously-long 165-minute runtime.

But while The Dark Knight was a slickly oiled machine that managed to get its point and agenda across with immaculate precision, The Dark Knight Rises at times feels too overcrowded, overstuffed, and over-agenda-ed. Part of the problem lies with the film's attempts to connect to plot points brought about by Batman Begins, including the mysterious League of Shadows. And while it's nice to tie up loose ends, it still feels like there's two movies trying to work simultaneously instead of one, especially in regards to the introduction of so many characters.

And despite Nolan's sterling track record of three-dimensional characterization and dialogue, some of the screenplay and character motives seem unusually forced or ambiguous. For example, while Ledger's Joker had a definite reason for his actions, what are Bane's goals? Is it citywide cleansing/destruction or turning the social caste system on its head? If it were the former, why didn't he just wipe the city out immediately upon receiving his big, bad doomsday device?

Still, this is Nolan we're talking about, so there's plenty to laud here. The visual effects, production design, Wally Pfister's beautiful cinematography, and Han Zimmer's "bwommy" score are once again top-notch, and the cast is, for the most part, terrific (and seemingly a big Inception reunion, considering that the majority of Nolan's mindbending sci-fi flick are showcased here).

Bale is once again great as the tortured superhero (who seems to have partially recovered from the apparent throat cancer he suffered in the previous movie), even though he's Bruce Wayne a hell of a lot more than he is Batman this time around (seriously, the cape and cowl probably show up for only a total fifth of the entire movie). Oldman, Caine, and Freeman are all good in their respective returning roles, though Caine is unfortunately relegated to scenes where he tearfully scolds Bruce and not much else.

Hathaway does an admirable job slipping into the familiar catsuit, less psychotic than Michelle Pfeiffer's turn as Catwoman and more snarky and morally ambiguous, easily making the character her own. As an idealistic street cop who has more in common with Bruce than one would think, Gordon-Levitt makes for a great source of altruism in a world gone cynical and berserk. As the big bad Bane, Tom Hardy (who gave Inception the bulk of its charisma) is rather interesting and admittedly fearsome, he just cannot rise to the terrifying heights that Ledger reached as the Joker. That might be an unfair judgement, but the bar was set impossibly high, no matter how impressive Hardy's performance is. As stated above, Bane's lack of a concrete agenda makes his impact less powerful and emotionally devastating as Ledger's.

The biggest problem I had with the film, however, was the ending. I'm definitely not giving away any spoilers, but if you're ending one of the most popular and critically successful film trilogies, you've gotta do it with a bang, sending away audiences with a lump in their throats. Though it was expertly executed, the climax never felt powerful enough in regards to the fates of certain characters, where they felt either too cheap or too sudden without satisfying resolution, especially a very last-minute character revelation that felt more like desperate fan-service rather than a genuine, pleasant surprise.

All in all, though, The Dark Knight Rises is a successful culmination of a largely brilliant film saga. The film is set up for the obvious continuation/revival/rebooting (though, in my opinion, it would be unwise to try and re-recreate the character so soon after Nolan revolutionized it; of course, box-office hungry studio heads will never think that way), and though it never had a chance of matching its predecessor, The Dark Knight Rises allows the Caped Crusader to take the bow he truly deserves.

Letter Grade: "B"

Review: "MAGIC MIKE"

Starring: Channing Tatum, Alex Pettyfer, Matthew McConaughey, Matt Bomer, Cody Horn, Kevin Nash, Joe Manganiello, Olivia Munn, Adam Rodriguez, Gabriel Iglesias
Directed by: Steven Soderbergh
Written by: Reid Carolin

While the perceptions of females in the erotic industries-- be it pornography, strip clubs, or others-- have always tended to be ones of either lustful objectification or conservative scorn, the perceptions of males in those industries usually tends to garner reactions ranging from amusement to straight-up belly laughs, especially when portrayed in film and television.

After all, who doesn't remember the now-legendary "Chippendales" sketch from "Saturday Night Live", where an extremely cut Patrick Swayze dances alongside a less-than-cut Chris Farley? Or the excellent 1997 British comedy The Full Monty, where a group of unemployed and unconventional men bare all to make some cash?

Meanwhile, it seems that when it comes to movies featuring strippers, only the ones with buxom females in the starring roles are meant to purely play to the salacious demands of male viewers (Showgirls, Striptease), while the ladyfolk seemingly don't get their fair share of eye candy in pop culture. And that's where director Steven Soderbergh's terrific dramedy Magic Mike comes in, granting female moviegoers an eyeful of man flesh while still making it enjoyable and accessible enough for all viewers.

Mike Lane (Channing Tatum) is a Tampa-based construction worker and auto detailing entrepreneur who's set on opening his own furniture-making business. In addition to his other two jobs, Mike bankrolls his goal by working as "Magic Mike", the star attraction at Xquisite, a male strip joint owned by Dallas (Matthew McConaughey) and featuring dancers such as Tito (Adam Rodriguez), Tarzan (Kevin Nash), Big Dick Richie (Joe Manganiello), and Ken (Matt Bomer).

While working a roof tiling job, Mike meets Adam (Alex Pettyfer), a 19-year-old college dropout who lives with his older sister Brooke (Cody Horn), a medical assistant who worries about her brother's future. After getting Adam into a popular nighclub, Mike makes him repay the favor by doing prop work at Xquisite. But when Tarzan becomes too intoxicated to work one of the shows, Mike improvises by having a reluctant Adam dance for the screaming female crowd. His impromptu routine is a hit, and Dallas has Adam-- now known as "The Kid"-- join the troupe.

Even though Brooke is initially disapproving of her brother's choice of work, Adam and Mike help Xquisite reach amazing success-- so much that the venue has a chance of reaching a bigger market in Miami. But Mike's goals of eventually quitting the stripping business are hindered by both his growing feelings for Brooke and Adam's embrace of excess after letting success get to his head.

I never imagined myself wanting to see a movie such as Magic Mike, especially since the commercials and trailers made it seem like it was nonstop beefcake without any semblance of a story. And that was okay with me, because after all, in an age of stoner comedies and sex farces, why couldn't the ladies have some R-rated guilty pleasure at the movies for once?

However, my interest was definitely piqued when I learned that Steven Soderbergh-- the Oscar-winning renaissance man behind Traffic, the Ocean's trilogy, and Erin Brockovich-- was in the director's chair. As a huge fan of the quality and quantity of his work (this is the second film of his released this year, with the great action thriller Haywire in theaters this past January), I knew that this would be no mere "stripper movie for chicks".

In fact, I'd say that Magic Mike gives The Full Monty a run for its singles as the funniest cinematic offering that features a group of men removing their clothes. The humor here largely spoofs the conventions of Chippendales-style erotic dancing without delving into parody, where the outrageous dance routines, costumes, and flamboyant behavior provides for self-satirization as much as it does for making the ladies swoon. The scenes involving the dancers preparing backstage or buying their wardrobes made me laugh pretty damn hard, and a lot of the kudos needs to go to leading man and new Soderbergh favorite Channing Tatum.

I've never been a huge fan of Tatum's work in the past, but here he's revelatory. It helps that Magic Mike is loosely based on Tatum's actual past as a male stripper, not to mention that Tatum certainly has the physical qualifications for such a role, as well as being one hell of a dancer to boot. But as Mike Lane, Tatum's dramatic chops here are pretty impressive, adding some three-dimensionality to the "stripper with a heart of gold" trope.

As his young charge, Pettyfer does a good job with the rags-to-riches story arc, though some similarities can be drawn to Mark Wahlberg's character in Boogie Nights (though it never gets as dark and dramatically heavy here). As the club owner and sometimes performer, McConaughey finally has a legitimate reason to show off his signature washboard abs, and the rest of the boys do well with their rather brave performances (though the casting of pro wrestler Kevin Nash left me scratching my head, but Soderbergh has always been one for eclectic casting choices).

The weakest part of Magic Mike, however, was the romantic subplot between Tatum and Horn. It felt way too conventional and even tacked-on, and despite Horn not being terrible in the role, I wish Soderbergh would have been more creative in that respect.

But in the end, this one's for the girls, as Magic Mike gives its target audience exactly what it wants and then some. Definitely not as smutty as the trailers may have led some to believe, Magic Mike nonetheless makes good with the He-Man hunk factor, while still maintaining terrific direction, great performances, inventive choreography, and a smart screenplay that transcends tawdriness.

Letter Grade: "B+"

Review: "THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN"

Starring: Andrew Garfield, Emma Stone, Rhys Ifans, Denis Leary, Martin Sheen, Sally Field, Irrfan Khan, Chris Zylka, Campbell Scott, Embeth Davidtz
Directed by: Marc Webb
Written by: James Vanderbilt, Steve Kloves, and Alvin Sargent (based on the Marvel Comic character created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko)

Let's go back ten years, shall we? It was a much simpler time (no, not really, but bear with me), when "social networking" meant actually speaking face-to-face, phones were used primarily for making actual phone calls, and 3D filmmaking was considered retro and kitschy. I was a bright-eyed, chubby-cheeked 15-year-old about to embark on what was, at the time, the most exciting day of my young life.

You see, if you don't personally know me or haven't read ANY of my previous film reviews up to this point, I consider myself to be quite the prolific nerd. My primary area of deep-seated interest is comic books, especially those featuring superheroes. My all-time favorite was, of course, the amazing, spectacular, and sensational Spider-Man. And what luck, considering that in early May of 2002, the very first cinematic adaptation of Marvel Comics' flagship character was to finally be released.

Needless to say, I was sort of excited.

It was kind of a major event for me, to be honest. As silly as it sounds, I had an intensely personal connection to the character and his franchise since I was six years old, and his printed adventures deeply engaged me as I grew up, almost as if he was a bigger, imaginary brother to me. So when I finally saw director Sam Raimi's film in all its glory on that unforgettable day in 2002, I felt like my years of waiting were absolutely worth it.

So let's flash-forward to early 2010. After Raimi's first record-shattering entry, two more films were released in 2004 and 2007 (the former even better than the first, the latter surprisingly lackluster), but upon creative differences with Sony Pictures, Raimi and lead actor Tobey Maguire dropped out of negotiations for a fourth film, leading the studio to quickly announce their intentions to reboot the series and start from scratch.

Naturally, this led everybody (yours truly included) to scratch their heads, wondering why a retelling of a familiar story would work so soon after the origin was still so fresh in the viewers' minds. Of course, this being Hollywood, a cash cow is a cash cow, so along came Spidey 2.0, in the form of The Amazing Spider-Man.

Raised by his loving Uncle Ben (Martin Sheen) and Aunt May (Sally Field) years after his parents Richard (Campbell Scott) and Mary Parker (Embeth Davidtz) suddenly and mysteriously left when he was a child, Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) grew up to become a brilliant yet introverted social outcast, relentlessly bullied by high school classmates such as Eugene "Flash" Thompson (Chris Zylka), but also secretly pining for his lovely classmate Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone).

One day, Peter discovers an old briefcase of his father's, containing documents leading him to his father's old employer, the biotech giant OsCorp. Conning his way into OsCorp (where Gwen also interns), Peter meets and impresses one of OsCorp's top geneticists, the one-armed Dr. Curt Connors (Rhys Ifans), who happened to be a former partner of Peter's father.

After sneaking into a lab containing experiments regarding cross-species hybrids, Peter is bitten by a genetically altered spider. Over the course of the night, Peter discovers that he's developed bizarre, spider-like abilities, including superhuman strength, wall-crawling, and an ESP-like "danger" sense.
As Peter tries to get to the bottom of his genetic quandary and the mystery of his father's connection to Connors, a family tragedy compels Peter to use his newfound abilities for the betterment of mankind.

Creating a stylized suit and two mechanized "web-shooters" to allow him to swing through the urban canyons of New York, Peter must not only contend with letting Gwen know how he feels about her, but also the fact that her police chief father George Stacy (Denis Leary) has issued a warrant for the "Spider-Man's" arrest; not to mention Connors using an experimental serum to regrow his arm, which just so happens to transform him into a monstrous Lizard-creature increasingly bent on reshaping the city in his own image.

You can guess my distress over initially hearing about Sony putting the kibosh on Raimi's mostly terrific series and starting over. After all, how can you really re-tell Peter Parker's story without hitting so many of the same notes? The reason why the "Batman" and "Star Trek" movie reboots worked so well was because they covered major origin-story ground that was left out of the original movies. Here, there's not much wiggle room, and as such, The Amazing Spider-Man immediately has a "been-there, thwipped-that" feel to it. Nerdy outsider? Check. Uncle Ben? Check. Spider bite? Check. Mad scientist/mentor figure wreaking havoc on the Big Apple? Check.

As such, surprising director choice and peculiarly-surnamed Marc Webb-- a music video veteran whose only previous feature film experience was 2009's fabulous indie rom-com (500) Days of Summer-- decided the best way to differentiate his film from the prior movies was to stray from the more colorful and gee-whiz attitude of Raimi's films and go for (as the kids call it nowadays) a "grittier" and "more realistic" approach.

But what is Spider-Man without a bit of fantastical whimsy? A major reason why Raimi's films (and yes, to a limited degree, even the maligned third entry) worked was because they never eschewed their inherently campy roots and even embraced the flamboyant silliness of the comic book source material. But here, Webb decided that the Christopher Nolan route was better, making the web-slinger as contemporary as possible (gone are Raimi's biological web-shooters in favor of the original mechanical ones; J. Jonah Jameson and the signature wrestling match are gone too; and this Peter Parker is, like, way into skateboards and hipsterish hoodies, etc.).

In fact, Webb decided that it was best to focus more on the human side of Peter more than anything, at the expense of a lot less wall-crawling action. Now don't get me wrong, I love me an action film with actual character development, but at times, it seems as though you could excise the special effects and have a quasi-sequel to (500) Days of Summer. Luckily, Webb corralled himself quite the terrific cast to make the film worth watching.

Though I have and always will have a soft spot for Tobey Maguire's excellent and soft-spoken portrayal of Spidey, I must say that British thesp Andrew Garfield (The Social Network) does an admirable job filling the tights. More aggressive and ironic than Maguire's wide-eyed, innocent wallcrawler, Garfield does an impressive job etching out the more tragic and angsty side of the character. He also brings out a more wise-alecky side to the character, deftly balancing the humor and drama needed for such a well-known icon.

Garfield also has a decent chemistry with Emma Stone, who brings a more nuanced, three-dimensional aura to the love interest character than Kirsten Dunst did as Mary Jane Watson (though the sexual chemistry here is nothing compared to that one upside-down kiss from the first film). Leary is snarly as ever as Gwen's disapproving cop dad, and Sheen and Field also add more dimension to Peter's uncle and aunt (though the absence of Ben's trademark "with great power comes great responsibility" line bordered on blasphemy).

The one big disappointment from a casting angle, though, was Rhys Ifans as Curt Connors/The Lizard. As the good doctor, Ifans is quite sympathetic in his quest to cure himself of his "imperfection", but once he transforms into that big green menace, there's absolutely nothing to be interested in, whether it's the villain's motives, his appearance (the use of CGI is way too obvious here), or whether or not he lives or dies by film's end. That, and the fact that the general character arc is all-too familiar after seeing Willem Dafoe's Green Goblin or Alfred Molina's Doctor Octopus deal with essentially the same ordeals (and ten Lizards here couldn't stack up to just one of Molina's pitch-perfect portrayal of Ock).

Tech specs are pretty much stellar across the board, from the improved special effects mixed with practical effects to make Spidey's web-slinging that much more dynamic and "comic-booky", to the impressive production design by the late J. Michael Rivas. The score by James Horner is servicable, but was lacking in the quirky bombast that Danny Elfman's scores used so well.

And that's the word that I'd say was most descriptive of Amazing Spider-Man: "lacking". Although the film is certainly not bad by any stretch and boasted quite a few moments of humor and imagination, I rarely felt that infectious sense of fun and wonder that Raimi cultivated so brilliantly. In its attempts to appeal to a younger, Twilight-type crowd, the flamboyant joyfulness of the previous trilogy was seemingly lost in the shuffle. Perhaps now that the origin is out of the way (um, again), maybe the inevitable sequel will focus more on the iconic, thrilling aspects that have made Spider-Man such an enduring cultural icon for the last fifty years.

Unnecessary? Perhaps. Too soon? Most likely. The Amazing Spider-Man is definitely worth a watch but is pretty much a case of cinematic deja vu to those who appreciated the campy cheerfulness of Spidey past.

Letter Grade: "C+"

Review: "THE GREY"

Starring: Liam Neeson, Frank Grillo, Dermot Mulroney, Joe Anderson, Dallas Roberts, Nonso Anozie, James Badge Dale
Written by: Joe Carnahan and Ian MacKenzie Jeffers (based on Jeffers' short story "Ghost Walker")
Directed by: Joe Carnahan

Having been born and raised in Minnesota, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that I hate winters. I've never enjoyed the season (if it were up to me, the entire year would be the month of May), and despite the state being an obvious hotspot for ice fishing, hockey, snowmobiling, and the like, I've always found the heavy snowfall and freezing temperatures to not being worth the trouble.

Of course, my bitching isn't exactly comparable to the troubles of the peoples of the state of Alaska. Despite having an incredibly beautiful landscape and being an important hotbed of natural resources for the country, I just could not see myself living there. After all, the state has a scant population (the fourth lowest in the United States), it's too vast and barren, the temperatures and snowstorms probably make Minnesota's winter feel like summertime in the Mojave Desert, and the high numbers of natural predators make getting lost in the wilderness very low on my list of priorities.


So not surprisingly, a good chunk of jobs in the state are wrought with more dangers than those in the continental U.S. face, especially when the majority of industries make camp in the heart of the Alaskan wilderness. Knowing how to survive is paramount, but what happens when nature sucks you away from your comfort zone and into a cold abyss where you no longer have the predatorial advantage?

The struggle against the harsh mistress of nature and bringing the beast out of the man in order to survive are the themes that permeate director Joe Carnahan's surprisingly good and philosophically complex survival thriller The Grey.

John Ottway (Liam Neeson) is a sniper who defends an Alaskan oil drilling ensemble by killing any grey wolves that approach the area, but despite being good at what he does, John is secretly despairing over his wife Ana (Anne Openshaw) leaving him. Writing a letter to her that he plans on taking his own life, he nearly does so on the last night of the drilling, but is stopped by the faraway howl of a wolf.

Ottway ends up boarding a plane with the men from the job. However, a sudden snowstorm causes the plane to crash in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. Ottway is then stranded along with the only survivors: Hendrick (Dallas Roberts), Flannery (Joe Anderson), Burke (Nonso Anozie), Lewenden (James Badge Dale), Talget (Dermot Mulroney), and ex-con Diaz (Frank Grillo). Lacking any means of calling for help, the men immediately set up camp in the forest and plot their survival strategy.

Unfortunately, the extreme cold isn't the only danger they face, when they soon realize that they're being stalked by a pack of wolves. Armed with only their wits and scant resources, Ottway and his group must do what they can to live and escape.

Let me disclose the fact that I was rather excited to see this movie upon first seeing the previews, if for one reason and one reason only:

Liam Nesson fighting goddamn wolves.

Despite having a long, diverse, and well-respected acting career, the Oscar-nominated Irishman has apparently been reinventing himself for the last few years as a middle-aged action star whose characters have only been interested in kicking ass, taking names, and whatever else was in between. And for the most part, I really dug it. With his steely gaze, calm demeanor, and authoritative personality, Neeson has made for a convincing movie badass. So when I saw trailers with Neeson charging at a bloodthirsty wolf? Yeah, I was already sold.

And this is despite my lack of enthusiasm for the film's director Joe Carnahan. With the exception of his terrific 2002 crime thriller Narc, the rest of his directorial output has ranged from mediocre (The A-Team, which also starred Neeson) to awful (Smokin' Aces). Of course, it might be unfair to judge his skills seeing how he's only helmed a handful of films thus far, but I was still wary nonetheless this time around.

But I was pleasantly surprised to discover that The Grey was a cut above the everyday survival thrillers, and not because of a lack of brutal action and suspense, but rather the unusual addition of human emotion, a main character that you actually care about, and a somber philosophical edge that I didn't see coming.

Here, Carnahan crafts the survivors as a bunch of tough guys who are only tough on the outside: on the inside, they're terrified. Being caught in the precarious maw of nature tears away the teams' rough exterior to expose the raw essence of their fear, how much they truly value their lives, and their inner spiritual discord.

Indeed, Neeson's character serves as the film's existential sounding board. Traumatized by his wife leaving him and the cold, emotionless nature of his profession, Ottway explores the concepts of a merciful God (or the very lack of one), the point of our existence, and whether or not we're really the hot shit that we homo sapiens believe ourselves to be.

And while the chase scenes and wolf attacks are appropriately frightening and intense, there's no sense of cheap horror-movie exploitation during the death scenes. They may be bloody and vicious, but each kill (especially in the film's last half hour) is extremely emotional and even heartbreaking to watch. The supporting characters aren't that fleshed-out (with the slight exception of Grillo's character), but watching these scared and helpless men die-- especially when the last things they imagine are their families-- add much-needed depth to the severity of what the film's trying to convey.

But when it all boils down to Neeson's character, The Grey does a terrific job crafting a character whose original desire for death turns to a warrior's instinct to survive when he realizes that he's as much a force of nature as the forces that oppose him, even after losing all faith that God has abandoned him.

And it's here where the film polarizes me. As much as I appreciated the final product, I really wish the filmmakers would have gone a bit further in forcing Neeson's character becoming more animalistic in his desperate desire to survive, where the reptilian section of the brain takes over completely and reduces man to his baser evolutionary instincts. The idea of the monster within the man-- even a good man-- has always fascinated me, and I was disappointed that Carnahan didn't go a step further, especially since the film's ending makes this squelched opportunity even more frustrating.

Nonetheless, The Grey is still a well-executed thriller that makes damn good use of chillingly gorgeous cinematography, a sad yet ambient score by Marc Streitenfeld, an encouraging sense of mature direction by Carnahan, and a terrific lead performance from Neeson. It may not edge me any closer to moving to the Land of the Midnight Sun (or even a vacation, for that matter), but it's a fine entry in the resume of a filmmaker whose future output will hopefully go on to take note of what worked so well this time around.

Letter Grade: "B"

Review: "GOON"

Starring: Seann William Scott, Liev Schreiber, Jay Baruchel, Marc-Andre Grondin, Eugene Levy, Alison Pill, Kim Coates
Written by: Jay Baruchel and Evan Goldberg
Directed by: Michael Dowse

I've never been a huge sports fan. While my family always made sure to watch football and baseball whenever possible, I had zero interest in such shenanigans, preferring to stick to finer and far more sophisticated ventures, such as comic books, video games, and, ironically, professional wrestling.

In fact, it wasn't until I was in my early twenties that I went to my first hockey game with my father. Having never even seen a game of the notoriously violent winter sport on television (unless childhood viewings of The Mighty Ducks count), I was in for a huge surprise in regards to how much I loved it. The intensity and lightning-fast pace immediately grew on me, not to mention the signature fisticuffs between unruly players. Sure, it was hypermasculine ridiculousness to a "T", but upon leaving, I couldn't deny what an absorbing and strangely poetic experience the so-called "fastest game on Earth" was.

But even though I was impressed by all the facets of the game, what appealed to me the most were the fights: mostly notably, those instigated by the teams' unofficial enforcers, or "goons", whose sole purpose was to take out any opposing team member gunning for important players on the goon's team. While the concept of the goon has been derided by hockey critics, it begs the question: is being a goon a thankless, expendable existence, or do they serve as an integral cog in the team's machinery?

Luckily, we get an unsung hero story in the form of director Michael Dowse's Goon, a funny, brutal, and surprisingly sweet-natured comedy that certainly gives the goon his due.

Massachusetts native Doug Glatt (Seann William Scott) is a good-natured but less-than-intelligent bouncer working at a local bar, and he's really good at what he does. But despite his natural skill at knocking hooligans out with brute efficiency, he still lives in the disappointed shadow of his father (Eugene Levy), who, like Doug's brother Ira (David Paetkau), is a successful doctor.

Attending a minor league hockey game with his vulgar, hockey webcast-hosting buddy Pat (Jay Baruchel), Doug defends Pat after the latter taunts a surly player from the visiting team. Witnessing how easily Doug beat up the hockey player, the home team's coach offers Doug a spot as the team's "enforcer", where his sole purpose is to brawl with opposing players sniffing out Doug's comrades. Doug quickly becomes a hit, and is quickly sent up to Halifax, Nova Scotia to serve as the enforcer for the local Highlanders team, which is currently suffering from a major losing streak.

It turns out that Doug is needed to protect Highlander member Xavier Laflamme (Marc-Andre Grondin), a former star prospect who three years earlier was concussed by legendary enforcer Ross "The Boss" Rhea (Liev Schreiber). The concussion left Laflamme traumatized, where he sunk into a delinquent and drug-filled funk that he's never fully recovered from. Doug's skills make him hugely popular with the Nova Scotian fans, and even attracts the attention of hockey groupie Eva (Alison Pill).

Despite his parents voicing their displeasure with his new profession-- not to mention gaining the ire of a jealous Laflamme-- Doug is steadfast in his goal at achieving greatness, especially when he's locked in the sights of Rhea, recently returning from a 20-game suspension and deadset on taking down Doug should they ever meet on the ice.

Vulgar, foul-mouthed hockey comedies are truly few and far between these days-- especially considering that the last film that probably bore those adjectives was the great 1977 Paul Newman-starrer Slap Shot, which also centered on a minor league hockey ensemble that focuses on the sport's more violent aspects. But while it probably won't have the same legacy as that previous classic, Goon comes pretty damn close.

Written by Pineapple Express scribe Evan Goldberg and co-star Jay Baruchel (and loosely based on the true story of real-life minor league goon Doug Smith), Goon could have been a standard, by-the-numbers sports comedy, possibly bogged down by Adam Sandleresque gimmickry and nonstop fart jokes. And while very few non-profanities get a word in edge-wise here, there's very little cartoonish padding here, which is a pleasant relief.

Instead, we get an underdog story whose underdog you couldn't root more for, thanks to an incredibly sweet and sincere performance by Seann William Scott, who takes a break from his usual alpha-male fratboy roles best personified by his breakthrough role in the American Pie series. Despite his near-robotic finesse in beating the piss out of anyone in his sights, Doug is nonetheless decent, kind, exceedingly well-mannered, and unwaveringly loyal to his team. His lack of book smarts doesn't seem to mar his hero's journey, either: he's essentially Forrest Gump meets Wayne Gretzky. It's a revelatory performance, and gives the film every single ounce of its heart and soul.

In fact, Scott's character's dimwitted-yet-sweet demeanor makes for a major chunk of the film's comedy. Whether it's his poor attempts at making insulting comebacks,  his persistent sportsmanlike attitude in a sport where sportsmanship is essentially nonexistent, or his sheer joy of getting to do what he does best-- hitting people-- Doug makes for one of the best underdog characters in recent cinema history.

And what's best about the performance is that it feels naturalistic instead of blatant comedy fodder. There's no Judd Apatow-style broad-comedy flourishes here (save for Baruchel's character, and one or two minor characters on the Highlanders team), and the rest of the cast deliver amusing performances, even if they don't stack up to Scott's. Liev Schreiber is great as the world-weary goon who, despite sharing mutual respect with Doug, can't wait to mop the ice with Doug's body. There's a great scene between the two where they meet in a diner, wherein Schreiber essentially lays down the cold, hard truth about the relevance of a goon in a hockey player's world. Despite being a comedy, it's a tense scene, one that would lead up to the climactic knockout brawl between the two.

And yes, being a movie about hockey, the action is pretty brutal. A far cry from feel-good hockey flicks like Mighty Ducks or Miracle, the fight scenes are jarringly hardcore, and sometimes even tough to watch. The shaky-cam, over-the-shoulder shots are pretty damn effective, and the blood and teeth fly at breakneck velocity, making you forget at times that you're still watching a comedy.

But the juxtaposition between the extreme violence and the terrific performance by Scott works perfectly here. Like my first real-life experience with the game of hockey, I never expected to enjoy Goon as much as I did. Probably one of the best sports movies I've seen in the last several years, Goon is a comedic slapshot to both the funny bone and the heart.

Letter Grade: "A-"

Review: "HAYWIRE"

Starring: Gina Carano, Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Channing Tatum, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas, Bill Paxton, Michael Angarano
Written by: Lem Dobbs
Directed by: Steven Soderbergh

Despite comprising 51% percent of our global population, it still seems that-- even in this day and age-- women still don't get equal footing when it comes to representation in popular culture. Basically, if you're a woman in films or television, you're either an airhead, nag, skank, damsel in distress, or femme fatale with shady allegiances.

And whenever there's one good/strong/independent female role model in pop culture, it seems like there's three more negative, stereotypical portraitures to drown them out. In an era where young people are heavily influenced by materialism and media-propagated gender roles more than ever, it's a shame that there are too few ladies-- real or fictional-- to give our girls the idea that they can forgo the "sugar and spice" nonsense and become empowered, tough, and-- God forbid-- kick a little ass now and then, all without being overtly sexualized.

Of course, considering how slowly our society needs to swallow such radical notions in order for it to become a reality, it's lucky that we have acclaimed director Steven Soderbergh's Haywire to help contribute to the recent wave of cinematic woman warriors to help ease the transition.

Sitting in an Upstate New York diner, Mallory Kane (Gina Carano) is approached by her old partner and lover Aaron (Channing Tatum), who seeks to take her away to his higher-ups. However, Mallory has none of it, subduing Aaron and escaping with bystander Scott (Michael Angarano) in his car. As they drive off, an injured Mallory tells a panicked Scott what brought them to this point.

It turns out that both Mallory and Aaron were partners in a government-hired private ops firm, headed by Mallory's ex-boyfriend Kenneth (Ewan McGregor), who in turn is in a business arrangement with government agent Coblenz (Michael Douglas). Mallory, a former Marine and daughter of Marine-turned-novelist John Kane (Bill Paxton), was hired to rescue hostage Jiang (Anthony Brandon Wong) in Barcelona by request of Spanish contact Rodrigo (Antonio Banderas).

After that successful operation, Mallory was approached by Kenneth to take on a simple mission: to pose as the wife of undercover MI6 agent Paul (Michael Fassbender) in Dublin as he meets with his contact, Studer (Mathieu Kassovitz). However, that mission goes awry, leaving Mallory the victim of a double-cross. Now on the run, Mallory must stay one step ahead of her pursuers, all while trying to clear her name and take down those who crossed her.

And thus describes the latest entry in the eclectic-in-every-sense-of-the-word filmography of renaissance man director Steven Soderbergh. Not one to be bogged down by one genre in his oeuvre, Soderbergh has done it all: dark comedies (The Informant), crime dramas (Traffic), caper comedies (the Ocean's trilogy), a four-hour biopic of Che Guevara, and even an experimental film riding on the lead performance of a pornographic actress (The Girlfriend Experience).

And it's this willingness to be different in his directorial output that's made me come to highly admire Soderbergh and his work (not to mention the fact that he's released at least one film a year-- sometimes even two-- since 1995). And while Haywire is much smaller in scope and scale than most action films, that very lack of flash and bloat actually gives the film its own unique personality. Much like the stealthy protagonist, the movie sneaks up on you, only letting loose when it counts.

And Soderbergh picked one hell of a choice for said protagonist, in the form of mixed martial artist and newcomer actress Gina Carano. Making her theatrical debut, the 30-year-old Carano certainly has the stunning good looks down, but her attractiveness takes a backseat to her asskicking prowess. Clearly doing her own stunts, Carano eliminated any need of eye candy obnoxiousness when it was clear that her athletic skills were all that were needed to catch our attention.

The very first scene sees Carano's character throw down with new Soderbergh favorite Channing Tatum in a rather brutal fist/knife/gunfight in a diner, and it's clear from there that she can fight right up there with the big boys. She definitely won't be getting any acting nominations for her performance, but it's an impressive performance nonetheless.

In the meantime, the rest of the big-name cast takes a backseat to give Carano room to breathe, including Ewan McGregor, the increasingly ubiquitous Michael Fassbender, Antonio Banderas, and even Michael Douglas as a shady government bigwig,

The lack of breakneck editing is a nice reprieve from the usual Hollywood formula, with very little fat on a lean, taut narrative. The story isn't groundbreaking, but the fact that Soderbergh managed to do so much with very little in terms of budget further cements his reputation as a resourceful and incredibly creative filmmaker. And the noirish score by David Holmes-- which wisely remains silent during most if not all fight scenes-- is a terrific departure from the usual musical bombast of conventional action flicks.

Despite his threats of an impending retirement from filmmaking-- which seems implausible considering the fact that he's only 49 and hasn't even come close to peaking as a filmmaker-- Soderbergh doesn't seem to let up when it comes to churning out one great film after another. I've never seen a film by him that I've considered to be bad or even mediocre, and while Haywire isn't exactly a classic by any means, it succeeds on the merits of great action, skillful narrative cohesion, and a charismatic debut performance by an actress whose buttkicking performance belies that whole "fairer sex" thing.

Letter Grade: "B"

Review: "MEN IN BLACK 3"

Starring: Will Smith, Tommy Lee Jones, Josh Brolin, Jemaine Clement, Emma Thompson, Alice Eve, Michael Stuhlbarg
Directed by: Barry Sonnenfeld
Written by: Etan Cohen (based on the Malibu Comic The Men in Black created by Lowell Cunningham)

One of the biggest and most persistent problems Hollywood fails to acknowledge is the fact that some things aren't allowed to die a dignified death in Tinseltown. Every time there's an infinitesimal chance that something can make even a modest box office gross, they take that chance, usually in the form of cannibalizing a franchise that seemingly saw its end years ago.

Whether or not that works usually depends on how it's executed; if the material is treated with a fresh, organic, and original take, it can work rather well. But more often than not, direct sequels to a franchise that ended a decade (or decades) ago are dependent on the nostalgia of those who saw the originals years earlier, even if the target audience of the newest installment weren't even born by then.

So it begs the question: when-- and why-- is it necessary to dig up the cinematic graveyard? That's a question whose answer, clearly, is known only by people like director Barry Sonnenfeld, who returns with Men in Black 3, a full ten years after the sci-fi/comedy franchise seemingly threw in the towel.

For 14 years, Agents K (Tommy Lee Jones) and J (Will Smith) have been partners serving under the New York-based Men In Black, a secret government organization dedicated to keep the existence of Earth-based extraterrestrials under wraps, as well as protecting the human race against any potential rogue aliens. But despite their lengthy partnership, the younger J has had trouble getting any emotion or even a personal backstory out of the older, stoic K.

Matters become more complicated when one-armed Boglodite criminal Boris "The Animal" (Jemaine Clement) escapes from a moon-based LunarMax prison and has his sights set on Agent K, who arrested Boris four decades earlier. Before J can figure out the deeper connection between Boris and the senior agent, K suddenly vanishes without a trace.

J returns to MIB headquarters the next day, where he learns from his chief Agent O (Emma Thompson) that K has been dead for 40 years. Despite J remembering his partner, history was apparently rewritten when Boris traveled back in time and murdered K (which also meant that K never had a chance to activate a worldwide defense network that defended the Earth against a Boglodite invasion). Determined to save his partner and protect history, J travels back in time to July 15, 1969, the day before Boris assassinated a younger K (Josh Brolin).

Racing against the clock, J must convince young K to help him in preventing the nefarious schemes of both the past and present incarnations of Boris, along with the assistance of Griffin (Michael Stuhlbarg), a fifth-dimensional Arcadian with the ability to see all possible futures-- including those with tragic consequences.

Despite being incredibly disappointed with the woefully inept 2002 sequel, I still had ample interest in catching the third installment of the blockbuster trilogy that cemented a post-"Fresh Prince" Will Smith's career as a Hollywood superstar, mainly due to the fact that I still had fond memories of seeing the 1997 original when I was ten years old. Clever, well-written, and chockablock with excellent visual and practical effects, the first Men in Black succeeded not only because of its masterful blend of sci-fi action and snarky humor, but also because of the terrific odd-couple chemistry between the wiseass Smith and the cranky, deadpan Jones.

But if it took five years for Sony Pictures and Sonnenfeld to release a sequel that ended up being not only terrible but made less money, then why would they bother resurrecting the series? Ten years later, no less? But alas, this is Hollywood we're talking about, so any attempt of making sense of Sony's logic is moot.

And right from the start, MIB3's flaws are already glaring: mainly, the fact that we've already seen this formula before. Like clockwork, we see Smith and Jones trading witty barbs that are pretty predictable. J calls K an old fart. K grumbles, calls J "Slick". Dialogue briefly interrupted by giant, gooey alien attack. J continues mugging to the camera. Lather, rinse, repeat. The film makes clear that their partnership has lasted 14 years, so wouldn't you think the bigwigs at MIB would have split them up if they still haven't made nice? Sadly, the spark between the two is gone. The fact that the obvious aging of the two stars since the last film (Smith being called "slick" or "junior" when he was in his late '20s is a lot funnier than if he's in his early '40s) only makes the viewer yearn for a time machine that'll take them back to a better movie fifteen years ago.

However, the time travel aspect is a nice and even novel touch to the story (mainly because I've always been a sucker for such stories and the maddening and ever-fluid pseudoscientific mechanisms behind such a plot device). The filmmakers have a fun time with J's fish-out-of-water scenario once he's arrived in 1969, giving the "aliens-hidden-in-plain-sight" schtick a delicious 1960's twist (a brief bit featuring the great Bill Hader as Andy Warhol is absolutely perfect).

Even better is the brilliant make-up and alien designs by MIB mainstay and Oscar-winning legend Rick Baker, who once again delivers with the incredibly detailed and imaginative alien costumes and effects. Every creature has their own bizarre, unique look about them, each with their own idiosyncrasies and attention-grabbing traits, even if they appear onscreen for mere seconds. Baker goes one step further by giving them an era-appropriate revision, making the outer space folk look the same way they were imagined by movies and comic books half a century ago.

And even though Smith and Jones add almost nothing to their characters this time around (except for a surprising climax that provides the film its only bit of real emotion), there is the welcomed addition of Josh Brolin doing a pitch-perfect impersonation of Jones, right down to the southern drawl and clenched-jaw delivery. Brolin's interactions with Smith are marginally better here, adding a much-need injection of youthful camaraderie (even if Brolin is clearly a lot older than his character is).

The rest of the cast is mostly forgettable, including an underwritten Emma Thompson replacing Rip Torn's Zed character, Alicia Eve as her '60s counterpart, and an unrecognizable "Flight of the Conchords" musician/comedian Jemaine Clement as the spike-laden alien outlaw hellbent on revenge, who can't hold a candle to Vincent D'Onofrio's hilariously degenerating Bug character from the original.

As stated above, the question of whether or not Men in Black 3 was necessary is a pointless question to begin with, even though the reported troubled production (including a script whose second and third acts weren't even finished by shoot time) might have made the question relevant nonetheless, what with the uneven narrative cohesion, jokes that mostly fall flat, neutral character development, and an unshakable sense of being dated.

Luckily, Men in Black 3 never takes itself seriously, letting the proceedings go down much more smoothly. It's nowhere near as great (or even good) as the first film, but certainly not as bad as the second. The terrific visual effects and excellent performance by Brolin make Men in Black 3 worth a watch-- even if leaving the theater immediately after will leave you forgetting what you saw as if you stared down a neuralyzer.

Those are the memory-wipers the Men in Black use.

Never end a review with a nerdy reference. It always falls flat.

Letter Grade: "C"