Argo (Ben Affleck)

Rescue 101: The Hollywood Way.

First, he won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. And then, he went on to direct a fine adaptation of a Dennis Lehane novel, which was then followed by a tense, Boston-set crime thriller. But despite all those, many are still quite unsure as to whether or not Ben Affleck is really more than just a pretty face and if he really is a capable filmmaker and screenwriter. This perception of him, of course, can mainly be attributed to cinematic abominations such as "Gigli" and "Pearl Harbor", both of which he had unfortunately starred in. Here then enters "Argo", a gripping thriller that may surely turn even the most extreme Affleck skeptics into instant believers. Well, although I won't completely go out of my way as to call Affleck a bad filmmaker, I'm honestly not that deeply awed of his directorial body of work prior to this film. Intrigued by what he can do, maybe, but not that much. But this time around, count me in as one of them converts; "Argo" is indeed an insanely great film.

     

Being a regular inhabitant at Cracked (a very intelligent comedy website), I was able to constantly scan through numerous well-written humor articles that tackle relatively obscure historical/political facts and stories. One of them, obviously, is the very story of "Argo" itself, which has fascinated me (and made me laugh at some point, naturally) to high heavens when I first read it. Yet weird enough, when "Argo" was released, I haven't the slightest idea that it is indeed about the said 'Cracked' article. Instead, what I thought the film will be is something akin to a mere stylistic copy of Roman Polanski's "The Ghost Writer". But boy was I wrong.

     

Packed with just the right amount of endearing characterization, tense sequences and moments of genuine humor, "Argo" is easily one of the best films of the year specifically because of how it has managed to be both politically compelling and entertaining at the same time, with great supporting performances by Alan Arkin and John Goodman (as the legendary Hollywood make-up artist John Chambers) to boot. As for Affleck's performance itself, it is, in no way, very memorable, especially when he's in scenes alongside Walter White, er, Bryan Cranston, who's just perfect in that bureaucratic CIA role. But even though Affleck's acting is not much of a revelation (his first choice for the role was not himself but Brad Pitt), the real star in this film is his inspired directorial effort; that and the beauty of 'science fiction' itself, which the film was able to subtly highlight.

     

Of course, with "Argo" being a politically-charged film, its closeness to the truth is surely a great question, especially in its depiction of the Iranian populace and the real role of Canada in the accomplishment of the rescue mission. But for me, "Argo" is really not much about politics. Instead, what I think the film is actually all about is how seemingly contradictory forces (the Hollywood and the Government; Canada and the USA) can do an almost miraculous difference, all with the help of a make-believe planet and some storyboard aliens.

     

Like 2011's "Hugo", "Argo", although very sublimely at that, is a tribute to the power of movies, and how it's not just a medium where we're able to discover the intricacies of life, but one which can also save some. And who would have thought that it will be some cheaply-imagined science fiction tale that can do such? "Argo", despite its heavily political nature, is an understated celebration of the imagination.

     

For the longest time, the science fiction genre has been widely considered as the ultimate form of 'escape'. Indeed, in many cases, it actually is, what with its abundance of colorful interplanetary creatures, silver-clad heroes and interstellar adventures. But let's not forget that, for once, it was also instrumental for actually pulling off quite a literal one. "Argo", a stunningly inspired sleeper of a film, will forever remind us of that fact.

FINAL RATING

Zero Dark Thirty (Kathryn Bigelow)

The end of the road.

It is official. Kathryn Bigelow has done the meagerly impossible, and that is to top his Best Picture winner that is "The Hurt Locker". Far more ambitious, dense and a tad more entertaining, "Zero Dark Thirty" is the 'War on Terror' film to end all 'War on Terror' films; quite funny, really, because the film does not even feature any scenes of actual warfare at all. And quite funnier, still, is the fact that the film was initially offered to Kathryn Bigelow's ex-flame James Cameron, who then declined the offer stating that he'd rather stick with his blue Pandora natives. Suddenly, I can imagine Bigelow, like Tura Satana in a Russ Meyer film, standing tall, stating "Look who's laughing yet again!?"

     

"Zero Dark Thirty", in simple description, is an intense reenactment of what might be the most important 'cat-and-mouse' chase of the 21^st century, and perhaps also the most controversial and polarizing, all thanks to one man (Osama bin Laden) and his merry band of terrorists (the whole of Al-Qaeda). Alright, granted, there was that little Saddam Hussein sideshow which has populated news media while this bin Laden search is commencing. But what separates Osama Bin Laden's case from that of Saddam's, although very similar in nature, is the former's almost mythical quality. Is bin Laden a real person? Is he still alive? Where in the world is he hiding? (Morgan Spurlock comes to mind) These are the questions which constantly boggle our minds for years as we go on with our everyday lives. At one time, I have even seen a news item on TV (Or have I read it somewhere? My memory regarding the matter is much too hazy) stating that Osama bin Laden, the most notoriously feared person this side of the world, has finally died of Tuberculosis. Damn, I thought, that would have been very anticlimactic for a man who has lived a life of constant danger and, for a lack of a better term, adventure. But alas, the news item, as it turns out, is not true. Indeed, Osama bin Laden is that little Boogeyman in our sleep that not even our brave teddy bears can fend off.

     

For years, we have lived in both fear and fantasy. All of us, in one way or another, have dreamt of scenarios which involve us, bin Laden himself, and some apt armaments. If my memory serves me well, there's a viral computer game way back that's mainly focused on realizing just that. In the game, you are a terrorist hunter (If I'm not mistaken!) trying to take down bin Laden with a pistol, who was revealed to be hiding inside a liquor store located in the very heart of mainland America (!). Oh and there's also that 'Miniclip' game which finds George W. Bush himself under attack by terrorist forces inside none other than the White House itself! As expected, we play as the M-16-armed Bush as he goes all "Harrison Ford" against the, presumably, Al-Qaeda terrorists.

     

Indeed, we have lived this life of utter, teeth-gnashing fantasy of finally putting an end to the path of carnage and destruction that these terror bringers are leaving. Hell, even "South Park" had such a wet dream (See "Osama bin Laden Has Farty Pants" episode). And now, finally seeing "Zero Dark Thirty", I personally have arrived to a satisfying denouement. No more flash games and no more South Park parodies. We have finally come to a conclusion, and this time, it's very real. The absence of the cadaver's picture irks the little 'Conspiracy Keanu' in me, but still, it's quite a sigh of relief that the Time Magazine's 'Man of the Decade' (in a twisted alternative universe) has finally met his demise.  

     

For a film with a running time of close to 3 hours, "Zero Dark Thirty" has steadily maintained both the abundance of tension and interest in the narrative mainly because of the film's visual realism, heart-thumping suspense and a central character that we actually quite care about. For the latter aspect, I have to thank Jessica Chastain for giving a commanding yet ultimately affecting performance as Maya, a young CIA agent who may have just arrived at a lead that may bring them to bin Laden himself. And better yet, with his pants down. By way of Chastain's character, Bigelow has just proven that she has indeed mastered the essence of politically-charged thrillers, which is the combination of tension and humanity. In my opinion, she is in no way an action movie director. Instead, she merely filters the action through the eyes of her central characters, and how it unfolds in a way that affects their very beings. For that matter, I think that Kathryn Bigelow is more apt to be labeled as an 'action dramatist'.    

     

No opening credits and not even a proper title card, the film, like a politician who immediately cuts to the chase by stating "Just vote for me, you sons of bitches," brings us immediately into the heart of the action, which involves the brutally persuasive art of interrogation. These scenes, as we all know, have left some people in utter outrage and adamant defense.

     

"Those (the interrogation techniques used in the film) are highly inaccurate and are nothing but pure movie-making mash," says the CIA. "This film advocates torture and should be boycotted," says one A.M.P.A.S. member. As for me, the interrogation details are highly irrelevant to "Zero Dark Thirty's" quality as a film; in the context of a purely accurate film maybe, but not as a riveting thriller, because it has lots to boast of in terms of that. Maybe those commenting against the film should watch a different one altogether; maybe they’ll fancy "Taxi to the Dark Side" more, which is a powerful documentary, by the way, that will, in many ways, nicely complement "Zero Dark Thirty".

     

It's just some mere hours ago since I've watched the film, and believe me, there's a distinct kind of lasting sensation that goes home with you way after the film is over. Was it satisfaction? Perhaps it is. But I need a better term. Oh, 'catharsis' maybe, about the idea that finally, our world is one evil, bearded man less. But that's also where I'm a bit apprehensive. That after all, Osama bin Laden is just one man; just a thin metal piece in the whole industrial-sized umbrella. Suddenly, I'm a terrorist hunter in a liquor store again.

FINAL RATING 

Escape from L.A. (John Carpenter)

A Snake in Hollywood.

After rescuing Blofeld, oh, I mean the U.S. President and escaping from the madhouse that is New York city in the first film, Snake Plissken (reprised by Kurt Russell), in a logic applicable only to action movie sequels, gets drawn back yet again to this little parlor game of rescue and escape. This time, the place of choice is the city of angels. 

     

Although this film is not that successful in recreating the unique atmosphere of "Escape from New York" and may also be accused of having one action scene too many, this is still one hell of a ride. Plus, it has also solidified Snake Plissken's status as perhaps one of the greatest cult anti-heroes ever. 

     

With this film being almost identical to its predecessor's story and premise, "Escape from L.A." has also re-introduced us to Snake in very much the same manner as in "Escape from New York": In cuffs, escorted by armored guards and wearing that perennial frown. 

     

As usual, before he was even officially incarcerated, he was greeted yet again with another potential pardon riding on the shoulders of another dangerous mission. Oh, the bars were raised a bit high this time too; if Snake was given a full 24 hours to save the President in "Escape from New York", here in "Escape from L.A.", he's only given nine hours to successfully recapture a doomsday device brought into the Los Angeles wastelands by none other than the President's daughter. And to up the ante and heighten Snake's sense of urgency even more, a toxic substance was once again put into his system. These bureaucratic people know that Snake is a dangerous man yet they are also aware that he always gets the job done. But what they are not aware of is that Plissken is not named after a predatory creature for nothing. In the end, you'll laugh at the world and smile with Snake.      

Tone-wise, "Escape from L.A." is very, very different from the first film mainly because of the generational gap between the two. Made during an era (the mid-'90s) when the MTV culture is the 'thing', John Carpenter has dropped the visual aspects that have made "Escape from New York" so fascinatingly atmospheric (the slow pacing, the dark renditions of graffiti-laden street corners and whatnot) and has instead chosen to conform with what is in-demand at the time (abundant action scenes and some heavy doses of rock music); the result was definitely a hit and miss. 

     

It's a 'hit' because we are given the fun chance to see Snake play some life-threatening hoops, surf his way through a tidal wave alongside Peter Fonda and hang glide with a male-voiced Pam Grier amid the ironic ruins of an apocalyptic Los Angeles. But then again, it's also a 'miss' because we're not given enough time to absorb Carpenter's visualization of a Los Angeles gone mad quite enough because the film itself is much more concerned with the progression of the film's MacGuffin-furthered plot and how action scenes may fit into it more than anything else. But despite of that, I have still enjoyed the film well enough, particularly its overall campy tone and clever ending (written entirely by Kurt Russell himself). This is pure escapist fun right here.

FINAL RATING 

Escape from New York (John Carpenter)

Snake.

With "Escape from New York", director John Carpenter (alongside co-writer Nick Castle) offers us a frighteningly war-torn vision of 1998 where the eponymous city is nothing but a maximum security prison and the hope of mankind solely resting on the shoulders of an eye-patched criminal named Snake. Oh how screwed Carpenter's world is.  

     

As a seminal action film, the picture's visuals and simple yet compelling premise (adhering to the 'lone man on a mission' film archetype) is very, very potent even to this day. Although there were moments that seem to call for some swifter editing and some scenes that suggest that the film has not aged that well, the whole experience is still quite unique. Kudos to Kurt Russell (in his great coming-out party as a cinematic badass), who has played the anti-heroic Snake Plissken in a manner that oozes dark charisma and irrevocable screen presence. The supporting cast, comprised mainly of seasoned veterans like Donald Pleasence, Lee Van Cleef and Ernest Borgnine, is also quite great despite of the one-dimensionality of their characters. 

     

As a filmmaker, John Carpenter is very admirable in how he was always able to project flinching social commentaries while still being able to retain the integrity of various genre trappings. "Escape from New York", a truly gripping action picture, is one of the earliest examples of how action films can go all-out on the thrills but can still be articulate enough to say a thing or two. With the demoralizing trails left by the Watergate scandal and the Cold War paranoia raging at the time of the film's release, John Carpenter was able to share a piece of his mind regarding these sociopolitical issues by letting the film's visuals and exposition speak on his behalf. The commentary may be a tad too cynical, but hey, aren't they all? "Escape from New York" may just be the American answer to "Mad Max".

FINAL RATING

 

The Healing (Chito S. Roño)

Oh, here we are again with what I would call a 'pattern' horror film: One convoluted curse, several people destined to die and some twists here and there. Call it a localized "Final Destination". With Chito Roño's very own "Feng Shui" being the first local film to use this horror formula to great effect, it's just great to see him retrace his 2003 roots and is now directing "The Healing", a visually stunning film that's hindered by some thematic contrivances and slight predictability. 

     

It stars Vilma Santos in a role that many brand as the commemorative performance for her 50 years in the local film industry. Acting aptly as her character, Seth, but dressed quite awkwardly as her typical governor self, Vilma Santos slightly distracts from the film's horrifying atmosphere of murder and disturbances, as her various looks in the film fits better inside a capitol building rather than within a moody horror film. But other than that, "The Healing" is particularly well-acted in the sense that everybody is in on the film's whole spirit of dread and disgust. Well, maybe except for Vilma Santos herself, whose outfits make her look quite untouchable from all the horrors that the film has to offer. 

     

Now for the supporting cast (that which includes Kim Chiu, Martin del Rosario, and Pokwang among others), although they were reduced to the stereotypes of 'alive now, dead later' characters, they have still pulled off their respective characters quite convincingly. But despite of that, I personally hate the Odong character, played by seasoned veteran Robert Arevalo. With Odong being Vilma Santos' character's cancer-stricken father who was miraculously healed by faith healer Elsa (played by Daria Ramirez), I know where Chito Roño and company is coming from when they've written the character the way he appeared on-screen. 

Taking on an attitude of an old-timer making up for lost time, and with that I mean retreating back to his good old adolescent mentality consisting of naughty flings and some wet dreams, this Odong character was written just for the sake of humor. But then again, considering the utter seriousness of the film's story and thematic elements, his character is just too distracting. Just when I thought that I'm ready to let myself be magnetized by the film's horrific allure, here's Mr. Arevalo nonchalantly entering the frame with his cheesy comic presence. Why was he written to look that way? I, for the life of me, do not know. If he was created as a humorous breather, then I think the character is a failed attempt at that. What he succeeded to be is a distraction to the film's otherwise nice exposition. He is as unnecessary as the film's gigantic title card atop a hill.  

     

As for the film's story, it's safe to state that there's nothing new. It is already given that one by one, because of a curse, the movie's pitiful characters will predictably meet their bloody demise one way or another. But aided by the film's beautiful cinematography, this all too familiar pattern is transformed into a cinematic feeling of Freudian helplessness. The term that Freud has coined for it was 'involuntary repetition'. Perhaps we've seen it all before. Perhaps we know that when everything seems right in a horror film, it really isn't. Perhaps we're aware that when a killer is seemingly lifeless and lying on the ground, he really is just playing possum. These are some of the thematic repetitions that we are always experiencing in horror films, and Chito Roño utilized the concept here in "The Healing" quite successfully. 

     

Yes, we already have this conscious idea that, obviously, Vilma Santos will certainly be one of the survivors in it. But we're still drawn to the film just like how a cat is always fascinated with a ball of yarn. It's indeed a bona fide weekend thrill ride of a film, but it is not because of its originality, sorry to say, but because of its familiarity. Chito Roño (along with writer Roy Iglesias) played its audience through every suspenseful twists and bloody turns with great mastery of execution, but sadly, the scares are all surface. The 'shriek and it's gone' type of fear is what the film is all about. 

     

Ironically, the thing I consider the most disturbing in the film is the idea of faith healing itself in how it has swayed countless minds towards irrationality. The next one is the all too contrived color motifs. 

     

Maybe mirroring Kieslowski's "Three Colors" trilogy on how it has visually and emotionally channeled the colors of France's national flag, "The Healing" is more than obvious in coloring itself with the hues of the Philippine flag, and for what reason? Well, maybe because the film tries to be a commentary about how our Filipino society reacts to mass hysteria, religion and the supernatural. 

     

We have already seen the devastating effects of these sociocultural enigmas in Ishmael Bernal's "Himala", and here in "The Healing", we now revisit them again. But this time, we do so with a heart not inclined towards absorbing the profundity of a commentary but leaning more towards enjoying the meager thrills. "The Healing" could have succeeded in a much deeper level, but as it turns out, the only aspect that the film has succeeded to be deep in is the literal wounds displayed on-screen.

FINAL RATING

RoboCop (Paul Verhoeven)

Murphy.

Films like "RoboCop" are the prime reasons why the action scene of the '80s is truly the best there is. In a time where highly-paid action stars are being manufactured for the sake of non-stop, shallow-minded feast of blood, guns and guts, "RoboCop" stands tall as that rare work that mixes delicious satire, brutality and inspired originality in one action-packed entirety. 

It stars Peter Weller as Alex Murphy, an honest, hard-working Detroit police officer that was violently murdered in action by a ruthless gang led by the notorious Clarence Boddicker (Kurtwood Smith). But because of revolutionary technology, he was resurrected back to the land of the living hardly as a man anymore but as a law-upholding, well, as what the title suggests, robot. 

But wait, there's a catch right there: his memory box is not fully wiped out. So guess what? He wants revenge. Motown is in for a ride. 

Paul Verhoeven, a truly visionary action and science fiction filmmaker, is arguably at his definitive best here. Possessing a unique vision for action that certainly can't be surpassed even by today's standards, Verhoeven paints every action scene with an attention for the explosive and the absurd. His action sequences are those that are inclined to shock, to excite and even to put a sardonic smile in a viewer's face all in one stride. For instance, if some action films utilize blood squibs for the sake of enhancing the effect of a gunshot wound, "RoboCop" uses it in a more ironic fashion. The said prop has instead been used to enforce a more cartoonish depiction of violence, which is greatly significant for the film's prevailing satirical tone and its distinct comic book feel. 

So with that being said, what is it that "RoboCop" is satirizing then? Very much like Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns", "RoboCop", finely written by Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner, ingeniously pokes fun at what news programs may look like in an unstable future: A short running time, a couple of all-smiling anchors and an overly feel-good atmosphere ironic to the news at hand. Oh, and did I mention that this film is also a slight attack towards capitalism and consumerism?

As seen in the film's numerous faux TV commercials, there's this unforgettable TV ad in "RoboCop" that shows the fictitious 6000 SUX (a new car model) immensely dwarfing a dinosaur (which, I don't know, may symbolize the olden, more innocent times of simpleton living). Such image proves that "RoboCop" isn't just an action vehicle that caters to audiences' need for some adrenaline rush but also a timely commentary to our declining discernment between need and want. 

In a few years' time, we may just as well buy everything that the television tells us to. The film capitalizes in this sort of pessimistic view of capitalism and misuse of the media and made quite an unforgettably satirical impression out of it. 

But aside from conceptual originality and an iconic RoboCop design (by Rob Bottin), which are the primary reasons why this film is highly successful and was even able to attain a cult following, another potent reason as to why "RoboCop" is truly special is because of the performances. 

Led by Peter Weller's restrained approach to the Alex Murphy character, the cast is simply terrific. Although the performances were in no way deep or complex, they were uncannily energetic enough for the film to maintain its entertainment level even without the high-powered action sequences. 

Take Miguel Ferrer as a great example. He plays the ambitious and bureaucratic Bob Morton who, despite of being a cold-blooded douche, made Murphy's transformation as RoboCop possible. Ferrer, in all of the scenes in which he is in, is armed with a great sense of timing and articulate unorthodoxy that it's entertainingly exhausting to watch him perform. 

Same goes for Kurtwood Smith as the villainous Clarence Boddicker, who is so good in playing a major villain here in "RoboCop" that he was offered an equally despicable role again in "Total Recall" (also directed by Verhoeven), only to turn it down. While Ronny Cox, playing Richard 'Dick' Jones, the vice president of the film's fictitious corporation named Omni Consumer Products (OCP), is the stereotypical image of a purely manipulative corporate villain. Although contained within the limitations of a generic character, Cox was able to squeeze out something special and distinctive from the role. As for Nancy Allen, she plays Murphy's partner on duty with pristine calm. She is the image of sanity in the film. 

For jaded viewers, it's difficult to distinguish the gold from the dung in a genre (in this case, action) that is more inhabited by the latter. For me, watching "RoboCop" renders this viewing cynicism as untrue. Even from afar, it's easy to see this film's golden makings as a true action masterpiece even if you put it in a damn septic tank. And despite of the occasional garbage that may surround it, its greatness shines forth through the heap. 

"RoboCop" is one of the best action films of all time, and unlike other action pictures of the same kind that were made solely for the specific era to which they belong, this film transcends time. It has aged supremely well, and its entertainment and shock factor are just as potent as they were almost 30 years ago. This is one for the books.

FINAL RATING

Alien (Ridley Scott)

Egg.

Not that I was truly compelled to rewatch "Alien" solely because of "Prometheus'" release, as viewing the former once more was already in the back of my mind even before the latter was even green lit. And watching it after more than 5 years, it was as if I'm seeing something new altogether. 

Perhaps my slight cluelessness brought about by the years of not watching this film is, in a way, a thing of envy for die-hard "Alien" fans and even a fantasy realized for most movie watchers. As a long-time film lover, I know that there's this ever-recurring yet far-fetched idea among compulsive cinephiles of being able to wipe their memories clean so that they can enjoy all of their favorite films once more without knowing what's going to happen next. 

I, for one, would love to watch "Predator" again without any 'action hero' bias towards Arnold Schwarzenegger so it will once again be a genuinely thrilling experience. 'Who will die next?' A simple question that is indeed one of the guilty pleasures in all of cinema and one of the meager delights of an avid suspense fan. Perhaps that's what I have felt while watching "Alien" once more, and it was indeed a wonderful high. 

Of course, one can't deny how well-made this film really is and how its simple premise has brought it to its legendary status that we all know of today, but I have never remembered it, more than half a decade ago, to have contained such exceptional performances. Sigourney Weaver's performance for instance, after watching it again, has been enhanced to a certain extent and was even more believable than I last remember it to be. 

Her transformation as Ellen Ripley, from a dead serious female crew of the Nostromo to a brave heroine by circumstance, is such a powerful slow-burner that her intense metamorphosis is still being repeatedly used as the model character arc for sole survivors in many films of the same kind even to this very day.

But although this 'zero to hero' arc has been used a year before "Alien" was released in the form of Jamie Lee Curties as Laurie Strode in "Halloween", Ellen Ripley is a hundred times more chilling in how she has responded to her situation mainly because the survival rate in space, paired with a murderously invulnerable Xenomorph, is relatively low compared to a suburban neighborhood hunted by a slow-ass, Captain Kirk mask-wearing Boogeyman. And also because, let's admit it, playing this little survival game in space is infinitely more intensely terrifying to behold. 

But the "Alien" experience, as we all know, wouldn't be that unforgettable if not for Ridley Scott's exquisite direction, Dan O'Bannon's (rest in peace) simple but effective writing and H.R. Giger's iconic creature design. Taking one out of those three will surely render "Alien" quite deficient and lacking so it's fortunate that they have created a film so good that it has bred an expansive franchise and even cross-over films, much, of course, to the delight of fans who wanted more of it.

And then there's the rest of the cast, which consists of Harry Dean Stanton, Tom Skerritt, John Hurt, Ian Holm, Veronica Cartwright and Yaphet Kotto. If I am to look upon that particular line-up of actors without a further knowledge that this is indeed a science fiction film about a murderous alien in a spaceship, I would have mistaken this to be an elegant ensemble drama. 

Indeed the talent of "Alien's" cast has made O'Bannon's writing more natural on-screen, as they have truly provided it with human spontaneity that an otherworldly and literally alienating film like "Alien" crucially needs. Their performances were not legendary by any means, but their chemistry exudes a certain relational authenticity that it has been the strong, primary highlight of the film just second to the very arrival of the extraterrestrial slaughterer itself. 

Now, look at it again: The Nostromo's crew sitting around a white, futuristic table, eating futuristic foods while taking about home. Aside from the creature itself, isn't that what you'll remember most about "Alien"? 

But after all, what has really made "Alien" a legendary classic? Well, if you look at it, the story is too simple to even qualify as such, which plainly concerns the crew of a commercial spaceship named "Nostromo" and their unlucky encounter with a not so accommodating creature that serves as the antithesis of Spielberg's "E.T.". "Alien" does not even possess "2001: A Space Oddyssey's" mystical ambiguity or even "Planet of the Apes'" revolutionary utilization of a twist ending.

So what, then, has made "Alien" so special? I believe it is how the film exemplifies the greatness of having just the right amount of everything. It's a science fiction film that does not bite more than it can chew, it's a suspense movie without the usual overkill and it's a monster movie without the visual excesses. The performances do not dominate and even the creature lurks in the blackest darkness, teasing you with the terror that it entails rather than scaring you with its physical wholeness and its tails (Why? I want to make a rhyme, damn it!). "Alien" is a film that wants you to look at the vast emptiness of space not as a purely meditative speculator asking the 'whys', 'wheres' and 'hows' but as a cautious spectator asking the most perverse 'what ifs'. 

"In space, no one can hear you scream". Just reading that tagline alone is enough to send genuine shivers down your spine. Watching the film is even a taller order for your nerves to handle. Beware of its scares but be compelled by its greatness.

FINAL RATING

Prometheus (Ridley Scott)

The monolith head.

It's not a highly intelligent science fiction film or a purely imaginative Ridley Scott creation. But what makes "Prometheus" a picture that is worthy of all the hype that it has amassed throughout its promotional phase is one word that Ridley Scott was able to strongly uphold: audacity. 

Even now, I can't say if "Prometheus" is really necessary because however original this companion piece may be, the first "Alien" film will always stand on its own strong feet as an untouchable and seminal science fiction work that dared the darker mysteries of outer space like never before and, probably, never again. 

Being announced as an indirect prelude to the events in "Alien", it's given that "Prometheus" will hand out some answers to things that the said sci-fi horror classic have left quite ambiguous for so many years. And with its trailers leaving an impression that this will certainly be a film of significant magnitude, it's also given that this will also expand the "Alien" universe even more. 

The result is certainly not the greatest prequel or Ridley Scott film that we'll ever see, but it is, nonetheless, a brave piece of filmmaking that clarifies as much as it raises new questions and is also a science fiction film that balances the scares with some far-reaching concepts of human creation. 

It stars Noomi Rapace of the "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" fame as the perfect actress to channel Sigourney Weaver's intense portrayal of bravery and claustrophobic fear in the "Alien" films as Ellen Ripley. Here, Rapace plays Elizabeth Shaw, an archeologist who, along with a ragtag crew with the same intent for discovery, was commissioned by the mysterious Weyland Corporation (look for a geriatric Guy Pearce) to brave the far reaches of the outer space and land on a distant planet to unearth a key that may or may not hold the answer to our deepest inquiries about the origin of the human race, or its annihilation. 

Aided by a humanoid named David (Michael Fassbender), who's greatly fascinated with Peter O'Toole's turn as T.E. Lawrence in "Lawrence of Arabia", and watched upon by an antagonistic Weyland Corporation representative named Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron), the team set on to do what they were tasked to do, but not without some magnified mishaps or two. 

For a science fiction film dealing with the typical 'mission gone wrong', 'not knowing what we're dealing with here' theme, "Prometheus" is strictly a standard venture. But despite of that, it's still a high concept film that may surely be flawed at some point, but is nevertheless thought-provoking both as a prequel and as a stand-alone film. 

Opening with a highly unusual scene of a muscular, Dr. Manhattan-like creature that looks more like a character taken from a 'sword and sorcery' film rather than from the world of hard science fiction, "Prometheus" introduces itself as a tall cinematic mythology. And with this type of prologue of sorts, Ridley Scott is evidently on to something here that's bigger in conceptual scope compared to the first "Alien" film. 

But with such expansive ambition is a most critical issue of whether or not it can really deliver the promised goods. Like 2011's sleeper hit "Rise of the Planet of the Apes", "Prometheus" is a film that is burdened with the pressure of conveying a very interesting story that can hold its own ground but can also pull off a great feat of patching up questions of origin. 

For some veteran directors armed with such films as "Alien" and "Blade Runner" in their resumes, it's not that unusual at this point in their lives to be highly contented with what they have contributed to the film industry. Look at George Lucas and his countless re-releases of "Star Wars" and you'll know what I'm talking about. However, for Mr. Scott, it seems as if he's veering away from what Mr. Lucas, right now, is doing. 

Instead of squeezing dry a highly lucrative franchise like "Alien", and with that I mean desperately pitting an aged Sigourney Weaver once more with the wretched Xenomorph in a most ill-advised "Alien 5", Ridley Scott, nearing the twilight of his career, is brave and still confident enough not to do that but has instead created something that merely revisits the franchise but whose main intent is to refresh it. 

The result may be imperfect, but what I adore most about "Prometheus" is not much about the very execution itself, although it has great merits of its own (particularly the strong performances by Rapace, Theron and Fassbender), but the sheer bravery of touching and expanding "Alien's" cinematic universe while also maintaining the integrity of narrative originality.

Surely, fans may be infuriated by how, in some ways, "Prometheus" has ruined the simplistic mystery and horror of 1979's "Alien" by way of its exposition. Though that can surely be a case in point, I admire how the film took a more mythological approach to counter "Alien's" style of silent, straightforward terror. 

"Prometheus", as a prequel, gave enough answers regarding how one of the most despised movie creatures of all time came to be. But with that, the film has also left fresh new questions to ponder about. Not since "Blade Runner" have I ever been more satisfied with how Ridley Scott has left some things open.

FINAL RATING

The Skin I Live In (Pedro Almodovar)

He's got her under the skin.

Pedro Almodovar, known for films that contain unique mixtures of human comedy, dramatic absurdity and gender commentaries, is unusually darker and bizarre in "The Skin I Live In", a film that greatly offers a very, very morbid take on grief and infatuation but is also able to preserve some of Almodovar's trademark humor, albeit a more underlying one. 

As if partly inspired by Victor Frankenstein's travails or even Scottie Ferguson's (of Hitchcock's "Vertigo") obsessive fixation towards a mysterious blonde woman, Almodovar's cinematic touches in this film are infinitely more brooding and, in some ways, also more pitiful in tone as it brings our protagonist, a brilliant plastic surgeon named Robert Ledgard (Antonio Banderas), into a fate already sealed by certain doom and imminent futility as he obsesses himself in endless experimentation with a mysterious woman named Vera (Elena Anaya).

I know, I know, there has been an almost automatic requirement for any film review to contain at least two to three sentence plot synopsis so that readers can familiarize themselves to whatever film the reviewer is tackling, ranting or plainly rambling about. But with me excluding one in this review, do think of this as a favor. See the film for yourself and be enlightened of what may be one of the most unique cinematic experiences that you may ever lay your senses upon for quite a while. Now, with that being said, let's go back to the review proper (or something like that). 

Obsession and tragedy, these has been one of the more recurring themes on film as far as the 'mad scientist' sub-genre is concerned ever since Victor Frankenstein found out (maybe 'discovered' is the posh word) that electricity can resurrect the dead. It has been nothing but a tired cinematic vehicle, but just like David Cronenberg's "The Fly", "The Skin I Live In" offers a truly thought-provoking story and some unforgettable characters that genuinely remind us of the potential narrative and emotional power that the said sub-genre really has. 

But with that being said, it does not mean that "The Skin I Live In" merely exists within the 'mad scientist' boundaries and not a step more. Instead, the film's quality is truly multifaceted that viewers may attend the theater runs with different expectations but can still come out individually satisfied in different ways. 

To watch the film expecting a tense and suspenseful film, one would not be disappointed. If one comes into the film expecting a humane film about flawed love and emotional tragedy, you won't be let down either. Perhaps this is how Pedro Almodovar has intended the film to be seen: as a deeply human film about the inhumanity of cognitive and emotional irrationality that balances profundity and some suspenseful storytelling. But still, I believe those are not the main reasons that has made this film a truly special one. For me, it was Almodovar and his trademark directorial self that has. 

A filmmaker known for his sensitive and tender approach to gender-bending narratives, Almodovar has made the film sexually unnerving and shocking in the surface for the purpose of capturing enough attention so that his real message concealed within the film's sensational imagery can be absorbed more thoroughly, which now reminds me of Chuck Palahniuk's novel "Rant". 

In there, the main character's mother used to put thumbtacks or other mouth-crimsoning objects into foods that she cooks. In that way, she sternly believes, their great taste would appeal to the palate more competently because you've dissected through the meal to get there. In layman's terms, she believes that ecstasy comes after difficulty, which is what "The Skin I Live In" is all about. Beneath the detestably explicit visual content, there lies Almodovar's ever-compelling gender commentary, waiting to enlighten its audience with what it has to say. 

A perfect companion piece or, should I say, a more twisted cinematic brother to "All About my Mother", "The Skin I Live In" raises questions that provoke not just the mind and the heart but also the very perception of one's own gender and where does it really reside: In the mind, in the genitals, or in the heart?

Whether it is in a person's physical appearance or somewhere deeper is not what's important. Even Almodovar is cautious enough not to preach his side all throughout the film. What counts is that he was able to raise this very idea seamlessly, with capable emotions and with proper humanity, within the film. As the plot twist (yes, there is one) reveals itself, it's not much about how it was unveiled, but how it affects us afterwards. Call it an emotional twist if you may. 

With a penetrating story, powerful performances, notably those of Antonio Banderas (overlooked) and Elena Anaya (terribly unnoticed), and a sobering outlook that questions the requisites of what really makes one man or woman, not mentioning the effectively dream-like visuals and musical scoring, Almodovar's "The Skin I Live In" is, bar no genres, one of the best films of 2011.

FINAL RATING

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (David Fincher)

Mikael and Lisbeth.

To be honest, my first reaction when I first heard about this Hollywood adaptation of the Stieg Larsson novel was that of utter irritation. Although I haven't read the novels, I just believe at the time that there's no absolute necessity in making a western adaptation of a book that has already been masterfully made 3 years ago by a Swedish production. 

I remember that I even shook my head when I saw both the first pictures of Rooney Mara as Lisbeth Salander and the very run-of-the-mill (by thriller film standards) trailer itself. Though I more than agree about the casting of Daniel Craig as Mikael Blomkvist, all in all, I just don't really care that much about this project from its pre-production stage up to the initial releases of promotional materials. 

"The Swedish film is enough for me, let them have this Americanized Dragon Tattoo." This has been my subliminal mantra before the film's very release. Now reminiscing my ridiculous demeanor towards this Hollywood adaptation as I write this review, fresh from watching the very film of which I have been quite disdainful of, I can only think of one phrase to sum up this pre-judgmental flaw of mine: "Oh, how wrong I was". 

But with that, I'm not saying that this adaptation, as great a stand-alone film it is, is head over heels better than the 2009 film. For a lack of a better word, both films, as far as overall quality is concerned, are 'stalemate', which applies even to the performances themselves. Although I would say that, with a gun pointed at my head, Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander has the softer spot in my heart, I believe that Rooney Mara is as enigmatic in her interpretation, if not as charismatic. 

Daniel Craig, on the other hand, offers a more athletic-looking Mikael Blomkvist and is very into his character that his body language in the film is very effortless in scenes of unbearable suspense and surprising tenderness. Despite of his affiliation in that little movie franchise about an indestructible and highly sexual spy agent we call James Bond, Craig has been very, very believable in this film as a vulnerably mild-mannered journalist torn between the sheer passion of his investigative work and the preservation of his pristine name as a well-known one.

Stellan Skarsgard and Christopher Plummer, on the other hand, offer great presences in vital roles, while Robin Wright makes up for her limited screen time as Blomkvist's editor and lover quite well.

Though I must say that Michael Nyqvist (the Swedish Mikael Blomkvist) possesses the more world-weary physical demeanor that suits the character better, Daniel Craig is the more intense one compared to the former, which makes him more capable in shouldering the heavier scenes as the peril of the story piles up. 

Just like what I've mentioned in my review of the earlier Swedish adaptation, "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", as intriguing as its little whodunit murder mystery is, is a thriller of characters, not of plot. David Fincher, the perfect man in Hollywood to handle this film (and the whole "Millennium" Trilogy) with great composure, balance and proper genre experience, did just what the expectations call for him to do. 

A man that I can rightfully regard as one of the contemporary greats of the thriller/suspense genre, with works like "Se7en", "Zodiac" and even "Fight Club", Fincher is a humane handler of characters even within the most unbearably disturbing (e.g. Cops tracking down gruesome killers, a founder of a gazillion dollars worth of social networking empire (just kidding)), or the most unusual (e.g. a man physically growing old backwards, an insomniac with a split personality), of situations. And in "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", it really shows. 

In a worst case scenario, both Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Bomkvist can be turned into characters that may closely mirror members of Scooby-Doo's mystery machine, with the Vanger murder mystery serving as the shadowy plot to unmask and the 'it's him all along' twist serving as its burdening cliche. 

David Fincher, armed with a strong source material and a screenplay of considerable strength by Steven Zaillian, was able to give great priority to the characters without sacrificing any chances of turning the very story into a muddled maze merely solved by taking the wrong path just so a sort of closure, however half-baked, can be attained. 

Our protagonists, aside from being a two-team investigative force, are also two people wrapped in romantic ambiguity. Tackled by the Swedish adaptation with recurring hints of mutual affection, this film has even rendered their relationship close to perfection. It's not much their sexual scenes that have enforced this idea but the subtlest of moments. 

One poignant scene near the end of the film is when Blomkvist and Salander are lying considerably apart in bed as if two reflective lovers. In the scene, there has been no direct gestures of affection directed to each other save for Lisbeth's retelling of her scarred past and their lingering eye contact. 

The camera position perfect, that little space in the middle a spot-on balance-giver to the whole moment and the lighting totally exact. As they lie there subliminally contemplating what their relationship really means and as we absorb this key scene, the more that we already know what the answer is. And surely so that in another scene, as a sales clerk asks Lisbeth to whom will she give the jacket she had just bought, a gift obviously intended for Mikael, she answered that it's only for a 'friend'. 

Well, after all that she has gone through in the film, that which involves digging up absolute truths hidden layers deep within the snow-covered wilderness of the fictional town of Hedestad, we're quite aware that what she said to the sales clerk was a lie.

"What is hidden in snow, comes forth in the thaw" is the film's tagline that's also a Swedish proverb. It was indeed a half-century old tale of hate, murder, and misogyny that was unearthed, but so are shades of something that resembles love. One of the absolute sleeper hits of 2011.

FINAL RATING

The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)

Intently listening.

A second viewing.

With Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" being its closest cinematic kin, "The Lives of Others", one of the decade's best films and is also a stunning directorial debut by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, is also exceptional in its well-calculated thrills and is touchingly human in its very essence, which more or less separates it from the aforementioned paranoid classic. "The Lives of Others", with its beautiful emotional center that develops and permeates throughout the film, elevates itself from merely being a strongly-acted piece about the iron-fisted times of the German Democratic Republic into a genuinely transcendent piece about the beauty and mystery of human nature.

Set in 1980's East Germany during the times when German socialism is at an all-time high, privacy invasions through surveillances a commonality, and the destruction of the Berlin Wall nothing but an unrealized fantasy. Wiesler, played by the late Ulrich Muhe in a truly underrated performance that I think should be considered as one of the best in the last twenty years or so, is a seemingly cold surveillance expert and Stasi (German secret police) agent with principles that are well-intact, objective methods for investigations that are proven to be effective, and a solitary way of life. For many years, he has been a success in his field, capable of making suspected radicals squeal the names of associates and potential inciters of rebellion against the state confess to whatever they know. But despite of his strengths and an ability to thoroughly dissect, he struggles to connect.

"Stay a little while", says Wiesler as he futilely tries to convince a cheap prostitute to stay with him after they had a stiff sexual intercourse. Ironically, he is a man that technically controls the fate of those he interrogates and wiretaps but can't even guide his own. Here is a man whose existence has been rendered almost meaningless by his work but still oblivious of the fact.

Enter Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), a playwright, and Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck), a stage actress: a couple that has been ordered to be put under surveillance technically because of radical suspicions but is really about Minister Hempf's (Thomas Thieme), a Stasi superior, ulterior intent to personally own Christa-Maria for his own sexual fulfillment.

Wiesler willingly signed up for the former but never for the latter; and to make his situation even more conflicted, Dreyman is slowly turning into the serious GDR critic that he was always suspected to be. And to make it even worse, Wiesler is silently being drawn into the couple's personal world plagued by emotional imperfections and forces they cannot control but nonetheless proved to fit Wiesler's concept of transcendent human connection. Furthermore, it's a world that Wiesler has never experienced before let alone felt. They represent his most hidden of hopes and the very truth of his own being.

But there's one personal challenge for him: He mustn't fly too close to the fire. Should he be the silently harsh Stasi agent that he always was? Or should he be a silent crusader for the sake of what's more righteous and more beautiful, at least for him?

From such a simple character as Wiesler, in a performance by Ulrich Muhe that is brilliantly understated and flawlessly complete, "The Lives of Others" has brilliantly embraced emotional importance and an unconditional faith in humanity more than the usual conundrums of a suspense-filled affair.

Director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck once mentioned in an interview (and is also mentioned briefly in the film) that he was always fascinated of the fact that Vladimir Lenin, as it was told, can't seem to bring himself into finishing the Russian revolution every time he listens to Beethoven's 'Appasionata', his favorite musical piece of all time.

If the power of art can bring or manipulate people to such momentary departures from who they really are, how powerful can it really be? But is that really the case? What if art and beauty, in fact, brings people closer into what they really are? "The Lives of Others" sided with the potential idea that humans are innately good and that humanity, for whatever it has been all throughout history, always strives for an inner truth. The oblivious Wiesler unconsciously did, and unlike Lenin, his 'Appasionata' never stopped playing.

FINAL RATING

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (Brad Bird)

Above image: What movie stunts are all about.

The "Mission: Impossible" film franchise never really had any major missteps. In fact, all previous films are solid ones in their very own right regardless of how they were received by critics. But then there are always these particular flaws that may have never really affected the quality of the installments but nonetheless still left obvious holes in terms of execution. Brian De Palma's extreme complexity in the first film: an aspect that is very difficult to overlook let alone comprehend. And then there's John Woo's fetish for cool-looking, slow-motion action sequences (and those pigeons) in the second film which, more or less, beautified the film but seemingly favored pure stylish brawns over brains. Then finally, J.J. Abrams created the third installment, mixing just the right amounts of blockbuster spectacle and simplicity, but with the latter making the finale seems rather anti-climactic and stale.

Now we're into the fourth film in the franchise. It's the first film in the series that has a subtitle, and you must admit that 'Ghost Protocol' sounds rather pleasing. It's also the film in the series with arguably the hardest mission for the IMF yet (trying to stop a nuclear war), not even mentioning the fact that they must accomplish it as a rogue squad branded as fugitive terrorists. And most significantly, it is, I think, the first Mission: Impossible film that has flawlessly excelled both in storytelling and thrills, and also featured the most ideal incarnation of Ethan Hunt.

Maybe it is how Tom Cruise shows his maturity both in character and in looks, maybe it's Hunt's 'been through so much' game face nature or maybe because his status as an action hero skyrocketed because of his larger-than-life mission in this film. Wherever you look at it or whatever you choose among those aforementioned reasons for his forward march towards character transcendence and true iconic ascendance in the hierarchy of action heroes, "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol", with its purity of intrigue and globe-trotting peril, complemented Tom Cruise's arguably most well-known film role in a manner that admittedly neither you nor I have anticipated or expected.

In strict confession, I never thought that "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol" will even be a worthwhile watch as it looked, as the first trailers were released, nothing but a retirement tour of sorts for our ever so skillful and intelligent agent Hunt. And to add more to my initial skepticism, although Brad Bird is an Oscar-winning director, I really can't see him, a man who has directed heart-warming animated films after another, with one of them being about a gourmet rat, to helm such a frenetically-paced action movie.

Surprisingly, he has delivered a truly and thoroughly solid action movie that is relentless in its innovative action set pieces (the opening Russian prison brawl and the sandstorm-plagued car chase, among others) and imaginative in its new IMF devices, such as the retina-identifying hologram-like projector and the remote-controlled magnetic floater or whatever those things are called. Oh and there's also this little stunt involving Cruise's Ethan Hunt, some technologically-enhanced sticky gloves, and a tall-ass building.

However exciting the climactic sequences situated in Mumbai may be, it's this skyscraper-navigating mega stunt set in Dubai that will certainly be this film's flag-carrying image, just like how every previous installments had their own. In part 1, we have Ethan Hunt, with arms outstretched and body hanging in mid-air, infiltrating a secured CIA facility with a thin rope in his waist. In part 2, we have the black-clad, shades-wearing Hunt riding a bullet-evading motorcycle. In part 3, we have him sliding and jumping a tower somewhere in Shanghai.

But the more I think of the sick building stunt here in "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol", the more I think that it is indeed not just this film's highlight, but of the movie franchise's as a whole. It is indeed a most proud moment for the action genre.

While Simon Pegg's humorous on-screen skills is a given, it's a surprise to see Jeremy Renner, known for playing hardened characters such as the war-addicted bomb expert in "The Hurt Locker" and the lethal bank robber in "The Town", stretching some comic muscles and building a great relational chemistry with Pegg, Cruise, and the smokin' Paula Patton; a true revelation to me considering that the trailers suggest that his character in the film, an ally of Ethan Hunt, may or may not be what he seems to be.

But indeed another surprise is Michael Nyqvist of the "Millennium Trilogy" fame. An actor which I came to admire as a heroic journalist in the form of his character Mikael Blomkvist in the said trilogy, he is a breath of fresh air as the film's sublime chief villain, a bold yet risky character choice that has given the film a bold benefit, considering that most popcorn blockbusters prefer a more outspoken and often theatrical antagonist.

When all is said and done, the "Mission: Impossible" series, with what "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol" has done to give it a forceful upward pull, may have solidified its position up there as one of the most enjoyable action franchises of all time with enough tricks in its sleeves to immerse us in a world of covert agents, dangerous adventures and complex missions, while at the same time indulging itself in a cunning chess match with cinematic timing and delivery. Light the match and play the film's musical score in your head over and over again, get pumped up or maybe buckle up, let the clichéd testosterone-filled statements flow, this is a genuine blockbuster treat, and it's quite adamant that you accept it.

FINAL RATING

Source Code (Duncan Jones)

A minute to live.

Director Duncan Jones has already explored the genuine value of humanity by way of a relatively simplistic and observant film in the form of "Moon". He dared to redefine what really makes one human in the said film without even being, well, immediately human in nature. He has highlighted such in the fashion of say, "Blade Runner", and laid down a visual texture akin to "2001: A Space Odyssey". It's the struggle of a complex idea and visual stagnation (with it being set at the far reaches of the moon) that Duncan Jones has finely combined and from these was able to forge a brilliant science fiction film.

With his encounter with sci-fi minimalism a flat-out success, Here's "Source Code" coming within the midst of our viewing sensibilities. Molded more out of the same blockbuster tone like that of Nolan's "Inception" and a scenario close enough to Tony Scott's lukewarm "Unstoppable", the film, with its tight focus on the emotional content but still not deprived of some good ol' popcorn fun, is quite a well-balanced sci-fi affair with enough heart and soul on one side, energy and adrenaline on the other to fully present a complete film experience.

Jake Gyllenhaal, who's genuinely proven to be a capable actor to portray vulnerability in otherwise gun-equipped and battle-hardened roles ("Jarhead", "Brothers"), is very effective as the film's very Philip K. Dick-like protagonist Colter Stevens, a reluctant man clueless of what and where he's got himself into, emotionally needy yet articulate of his humanity.

Characterization-wise, that's just about it, I believe, in terms of complexity. With director Duncan Jones quite uninitiated with handling many characters at once (he only had the characters of Sam Bell and the robot Gerty to play with in "Moon"), this little hole in his skill has slightly showed itself in "Source Code".

Although the supporting roles, specifically the Goodwin and the Rutledge characters, were well-portrayed by the very dependable Vera Farmiga and the ever-impressive Jeffrey Wright respectively, the said characters were stereotypical at best. But with the material's imaginative edge, by Ben Ripley, reigning over the entirety of "Source Code", this slight flaw of deficient characterization is not really that noticeable as the film itself is just too overwhelming in its execution that you just wouldn't bother to look anywhere else.

To be frank, I expected this film to be very action-packed like, maybe "Deja Vu" (another Tony Scott film) in its race-against-time tone. I wouldn't really bother about an action set piece or two, but I'm impressed as to how "Source Code" has maintained its pulsating nature without resorting into unjustified action sequences.

Right now, as I ponder the reason as to why I liked this film very much, I realized that my admiration towards "Source Code" roots out more from its unorthodox view of humanity and the beauty of life rather than its intelligently magnified playfulness with space-time continuum and the mind. "Make every second count", the film's tagline preaches. Well, "Source Code", in its overall cinematic execution, verily did just that.

FINAL RATING

Memento (Christopher Nolan)

Lenny and AMD.

After a 4th viewing, I finally came into terms on how great a psycho noir film "Memento" really is. Its lonely and constantly manipulated protagonist Leonard Shelby (played by the very underrated Guy Pearce), who is out there in the open searching for the man who raped and murdered his wife, isn't the only one that goes with the wave of the film's conflicted theme of revenge, deceit and selective thinking, but also us. 'This' character helps Leonard and 'that' character aids him, but can they really be trusted? "Memento" is indeed a film that gives its ultimate revelation in the end (which is also supposedly the chronological beginning of the film's colored sequences) just like any other mystery films, but what elevates the film above other movies of its kind is its unique view of its characters' reliability. Do they really speak of the truth?

The film plays like a crooked little jigsaw puzzle game and we, the audience and Leonard, are the clueless arrangers. Or is it like a tight-strung political conspiracy and we are the Woodwards and Bernsteins? "Memento" is truly successful in its layered exploration of the barren landscapes of a short term memory disorder-inflicted mind that visually simulates this through the film's reverse chronology. Christopher Nolan, who directed the film with both the limitless consciousness of a daring independent director and the depth of a human dramatist, fragments the film with subtle linkages that makes the film all the more urgent in its presentation. It's purely involving yet it never spoon-feeds plot devices and narrative necessities.

"Memento" merely plays like a confused sleuth who constantly goes around places until its confusion turns into a foggy clarity. As evident in its pattern alone, it stands as a film that was never really created to answer its own teetering questions. It probes into the deepest and treads the slightest yet the next thing you may know, it unravels on its own. Here is an exceptional mystery film that is more concerned with its protagonist's internal catharsis than the audience's plot satisfaction.

Here we do not have a hero but a mere vengeful soul. He wants answers but so do we. "Memento" hands out its clever twists and turns just like any other cinematic exercises in doing so but does not have the courtesy to give a parenthetical period. It's a fourth wall cerebral involvement and I'm more than happy to join in.

I hate films which open up a lot of doors yet don't have enough capacity to close them afterwards. "Memento" is different. It's meticulously written to the point that I have even imagined Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathan drawing out diagrams for the film's numerous probabilities. We're very much aware of their skillful ability to answer the film's many questions with stoic narrative certainties, but they chose not to.

Like people with Anterograde Amnesia ourselves, Nolan is our few-worded storyteller that tells us an unforgettable tale of desire and the search for human closure but does not consider the necessity to leave us a pen so that we wouldn't forget. But as I like to call it, it's 'living in the moment and in it alone'.

Aside from a rich, 'blink and you'll miss it'-type of story, the film is also filled with splendid performances by former "Matrix" colleagues Carrie-Anne Moss and Joe Pantoliano. He (Pantoliano) embodies our common view of an unreliable handler of truth. Do the words he says comfort or distort?

"Memento" grabs us audience in its engrossing clutches but then leads us astray to each our own as the film ends. Some may find Teddy as a legitimate guide, some may consider Sammy Jankis nothing but a tarnished flashback, but again, to each our own. "Memento" surely polarizes in-depth views and what-if analyses among its viewers, but as a film that brilliantly shows the mystery of motives and the flaws of human relationships, it concentrates its audience into a common agreement that it is indeed one of the first great films of the new millennium.

First viewing, I thought it was confusing as hell. Second, I thought it was good but still confusing as all hell. Third, I thought it's not as confusing as how I initially thought it was but still wasn't as great as how everyone thinks it is. This is my fourth viewing and the rating speaks for itself. It's not 'confusion' that bothers me anymore but its characters' (particularly Teddy's) 'reliability' and the liability of Leonard's tattered memories; two doors worth finding the keys for.

FINAL RATING

Super 8 (J.J. Abrams)

The kids staring at a potential 'production value'.

Just like the case with Tobe Hooper's "Poltergeist", "Super 8" will certainly be more remembered as a Spielberg-produced spectacle than it is a J.J. Abrams-directed film. Abrams, who in my opinion has not proved anything yet in terms of cinematic imagination and vision (a full-length directorial resume that merely boasts of a "Mission: Impossible" sequel and a "Star Trek" reboot) because of the fact that he does not necessarily have to start from scratch from those film projects, could have capitalized on "Super 8" as his genuine coming-out party. But instead, what he did is ride on Spielberg's sci-fi, kid-friendly, wholesome fixation on aliens (come on, let's not pretend that extraterrestrials aren't the ones involved) and became somewhat an obligatory man on the helm to carry out the superstar director's 'been there, done that, seen that, heard that' concept. And worst of all, seemingly with puppet strings attached.

Yes, "Super 8" is a gargantuan letdown for me, but not because of the film's tired content and mindless use of explosions and CGIs in its clumsy second-half, but because of its broken promise to deliver something new and bring forth an intriguingly-themed film to reverberate the once prosperous conceptual disposal of the science fiction genre that is slowly running out of stock. Now come on, do not pretend that you have not felt even the slightest bit of curiosity when you've seen the enticingly minimalist trailer. It's the main reason why I have even seen "Super 8" in the first place. And also mainly due to the hyped nostalgic feel that comes along with it that may potentially bring the stellar, one of a kind atmospheres of Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and "E.T." back to prominence for a new generation of audiences to see.

Now granted, the premise of the film is new and quite puzzling, inspires revelatory anticipation and its opening sequence up to somewhere before all those prolonged forebodings (come on, how can you maintain a strong sense of silent menace when you have heard that otherworldly creature's wail before? "Jurassic Park's" Tyrannosaurus Rex, anyone?) is potent at a considerable degree. Even the characterizations of the kids who set on to make a short film called "The Case" about zombies and stuff, although forced and emotionally compressed just so we may properly care for them before complications start, is interestingly dramatic and naively charming.

The sad-eyed girl next door (Elle Fanning), the straight-laced main kid (Joel Courtney) and the bossy overweight one (Riley Griffiths). Oh, and there's also the cartoonish pyromaniac (Ryan Lee). Initially, they're a joy to watch, being overly animated and concerned regarding their cheesy film production and all, but in the subsequent scenes, they just plunge down along with the film's qualitative execution.

Suddenly, they are heroes. Suddenly, the sad-eyed girl is now the missing damsel in distress. Suddenly, it just all felt wrong. There's nothing bad to see those pesky kids running and fending off some shrapnel here and bits of metals there, hell they're at the peak of adolescence, they truly are supposed to run. It's an age of physical restlessness. But heroes? Really? A film which promised something different, resorting to a cute swash-buckling bunch? And in a more extreme extent, one of them as an alien persuader? Haha, I'm sorry, but no thanks.

And that grieving father/deputy character (Kyle Chandler) who even disguised his way to find out the exact truth behind it all. He never even really found anything of utter importance that may serve as a solution. The next thing I know, he's there, with his child, looking up into some out of this world creature and subliminally saying goodbye.

Oh please, that abomination is far worse looking than those in "District 9". And aside from the inability to move on which the deputy character and the alien indirectly share (one emotionally and the other quite literally), there's no bond between them whatsoever, so weeping and a sense of longing shouldn't have even been an option for the first.

"Super 8", although a bit inappropriately titled, could have been an above average science fiction blockbuster fare. It's got these mysteriously looming vibes surrounding it. It has good leads and it's packed with suspense and thrill-a-minute laughs. If only those are rationed in exact moments and its forebodings ultimately leading into a creature worth the wait, the build-up and the running time, "Super 8" could have been infinitely better.

The kids' cheesy, awkwardly edited zombie flick "The Case", which was shown during the end credits, turned out to be the real highlight of the film. It's momentarily fun to watch, but it's hardly worth my money.

Director J.J. Abrams and executive producer Steven Spielberg, who tried to revisit the old ways to thrill, let us feel and make us believe, came silently blazing with "Super 8" in their hands, but with all the grumpy old cliches holding on tight along with them. And an ugly alien.

FINAL RATING

Unbreakable (M. Night Shyamalan)

Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson: Third time around.

Film Review Archive (date seen: December 18, 2010)

Before M. Night "The Happening" Shyamalan became the laughing stock of cinephiles everywhere that he is today (enhanced courtesy of his live-action adaptation of the Avatar animation series), he was quite a capable filmmaker that has the uncommon touch of conveying emotional power.

Though his earlier film "The Sixth Sense" was the most renowned of all his works, for me, "Unbreakable" is the better film. Not only because it's a well-weaved tale of self-discovery, but also because it has brought the superhero mythos and all its undertones into a different territory. No, not into familiar grounds that consist of flying musclemen and villainous megalomaniacs, but into a complex observation of its ideas, its translation into an environment more grounded in reality, and its application to the two main characters' (played by Bruce Willis and Samuel Jackson in their third film together) individualism and their search for existential meaning.

Yes, that may sound a tad too deep considering the conventionally immediate visualization (protagonists wearing colorful tights and leotards) of the film's main theme. But director Shyamalan completely deconstructed those basic ideas, left important concepts into the film (such as the idea of a hero, a villain and the complexity of choice), and able to conceive a film that may look really familiar based on its initial elements, but a whole new exploration in its entirety.

"Unbreakable" is not about heroism nor villainy; it's a film about motives and decisions within that ultimately define who we really are.

FINAL RATING