Showing posts with label abrams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abrams. Show all posts
May 12, 2009
Frustratingly Going Where So Many Movies Have Gone Before
There were a number of aspects of Star Trek that left me unimpressed, not the least of which was Jim Kirk/Chris Pine channeling Pete Mitchell/Tom Cruise; I half-expected him to have to outgun a fellow Starfleet cadet named Iceman. OK, I didn't expect it, but I hoped for it.
And I could have done without the clichéd Romulan leader Nero (don't forget, facial tattoos = bad guy), and the clichéd monster-eats-monster disappointment, and the shamelessly predictable "climax" that audaciously tries to make us think that the entire crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise will perish in a black hole, thus upending the very existence of the Star Trek franchise.
These things made me scoff more than scowl, but one piece of this movie went so far as to outright disappoint me: the fight scene atop the massive drill bit miles high in the sky. A tremendous set piece (one of many that J.J. Abrams impressively brought to life), this platform was featured twice in Star Trek to mostly stunning effect. My problem was not the use of this set, but the huge letdown that was the boring action on top of it. Of all the things Abrams got right with this movie, and despite all of the annoyances I've already listed, the lack of creativity in the hand-to-hand combat department ended up being my biggest problem with Star Trek.
Whatever happened to the ballet of a fight scene?
I can guarantee you one thing: today's action directors spend significantly more time and energy getting the right camera angle/effect than they do actually choreographing a fight scene, and what we end up with are a bunch of images and sounds that form no coherent whole. It's like pounding a case of Red Bull, spinning your head around a bat on the floor 10 times and then watching an MTV show/video montage through a kaleidoscope with the TV at full volume.
Sometimes, I think the director must simply tell the actors, "Pretend like you're fighting, just do whatever, we'll take care of the rest," before turning his attention to the D.P. and camera crew and explaining how the fighting should really look and "feel". Isn't that backwards? Shouldn't the camera observe the action and not create it?
A recent notable exception is Paul Greengrass, particularly in his direction of the instantly classic fight scene in Tangiers in The Bourne Ultimatum. Damon and his adversary, Joey Ansah, obviously spent days practicing their brutal dance before the camera rolled. To get the money shot, Greengrass just used a handheld camera straight on without a lot of zooming, cut the music, amped up the sound effects a bit, and hyper-edited it to make it look like there wasn't a moment to breathe. The result: you can actually understand what's happening in the physical space of the room, and it's a pure adrenaline rush.
Compare this to fight scenes in The Dark Knight, Prince Caspian, Quantum of Solace and Watchmen, for example, and you may get some idea of what I'm talking about. Worse yet, especially in Watchmen - the fighting is creatively choreographed, before being ruined by the cinematography. Zack Snyder is trying to do what the Wachowski Brothers did in the original Matrix, but it's not working. Those guys used - not abused - the camera, and their delicate direction of the action produced some of the most beautiful violence of the decade.
Ten years later, I feel like we're almost to a point where some director will simply have the actors start punching the camera lens, because that would be so intense, man. J.J. Abrams didn't go as far as doing this in Star Trek, but that fight scene was, at least to me, incredibly disorienting, and I don't think it was because it happened at 50,000 feet. There just didn't appear to be any order or flair to the fighting, a doubly disappointing situation considering Hikaru Sulu is supposed to be a fencing champion. I know Star Trek isn't meant to be an action or martial arts movie, so maybe I should have saved this rant for a different movie, but nonetheless, it still seemed like a missed opportunity to elicit a few more "oohs" and "ahhs" and maybe even some laughs from the audience.
Am I asking too much? Must I shrug my shoulders and accept that creative choreography is a quaint ideal? All I know is that the panache of the past has slowly faded in the 2000's, and I for one am disappointed. In the early part of the decade we had some brilliant work in Gladiator and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but those are distant memories now, like the hilarious swordsplay in The Princess Bride.
What was the last really great fight scene, anyway? And by "great" I mean creative, choreographed, well paced, engaging, and above all, well filmed. We'll consider something like this scene from Rumble in the Bronx as the gold standard, and bonus points for thinking of non-Asian cinema like Ong Bak or House of Flying Daggers.
January 20, 2008
REVIEW: Cloverfield (C)

Synopsis: The movie has no music, starting from the beginning. Seriously, it's "government property," with a confidential stamp and all kinds of "official" A/V garble. Anyway, we meet Rob and Beth, hot best friends who have recently become a couple (they had a one night stand?). Rob, all of maybe 22 years old, is the Vice President (why?) of some unnamed company that is relocating him to Japan. Footage of Rob and Beth on their dreamy date is cut off by a live recording of Rob's going away party three weeks later, which is where the story starts. Beth shows up with "Travis," Rob is crushed, Beth storms off, blah blah blah. After watching what feels like about 20 minutes of MTV's "Real World," a rumble shakes through Manhattan, followed by explosions and, shortly, the head of the Statue of Liberty rolling through the streets. Our narrator and videographer is Rob's friend Hud, the kind of idiot sidekick that would be ridiculous (and strong) enough to hold a camera up in front of his face for 7 hours - all while dodging monsters, little monsters, bullets, mortar fire, collapsing buildings, and a helicopter crash. Anyway, we're with Hud, Rob, Rob's brother's girlfriend, and Rob's friend's friend, who Hud has a major crush on. While the ENTIRE population of Manhattan evacuates over the Brooklyn Bridge, our foursome heads to Midtown to heroically rescue Beth. Here and there tragedy strikes, and more than once we see the plodding monster stomp through the streets, impervious to all military weaponry. By the end, our lovers have reunited in Central Park, which is of course where the camcorder was recovered...ooooh...
I Loved:
+ Some of the visual effects - buildings leaning against each other, explosion from the rooftop, monster shots.
I Liked:
+ That some significant plot pieces were unresolved (where did the monster come from, what happened afterwards, etc.).
+ The ending, in a way. A little cheesy, but ultimately satisfying.
I Disliked:
- The predictability of the Brooklyn Bridge and post-monster-bite scenes.
- When the video would obnoxiously cut back to Beth and Rob's happy date.
I Hated:
- The cringe-inducing acting. Really bad. Really. Bad.
- Not being able to suspend my disbelief about some things (the little monsters would have hunted them through the city, no?), while totally accepting other things (a monster existing).
- Hud's unceasing sense of humor.
Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 5
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Significance - 3
Total: 38/50= 76% = C
Last Word: Cloverfield is a movie with an identity crisis - bad enough to doom it, but unbearable when combined with terrible acting. It's easy enough to say it's Blair Witch meets Godzilla meets Jurassic Park meets 9/11 meets King Kong meets Alien. But that's not what I mean. What I mean is Cloverfield doesn't know what it wants to be. You can't have have some realistic elements (panic in Manhattan, accurate geography, real time, human weakness) and some ridiculous elements (ability to hold a working camera that long, nobody in the subway stations, functioning electricity, no cars on the subway line, etc.). Either go way over the top and make it funny, or take a subtle, scary approach (don't even show the monster, for starters). I'll give Cloverfield credit for at least trying a new style, but all it really showed was that that style doesn't work without a better story. This is where I desperately suggest seeing The Host, which has all of the elements of Cloverfield yet somehow manages a balance between comedy, fright, amazing visuals and characters you can care about. This is also where I'll mention J.J. Abrams - as only a producer, this is where his mention belongs. Had he written and/or directed, it might have been a better movie...
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