Monday, July 7, 2014

Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

Michael Bay’s “Transformers: Age of Extinction” is a 170-minute endurance test thud thud thuding loud as slick CGI and slo-mo explosions litter the screen with buildings, trains, and cars crashing and people running about, always at magic hour. In Bay’s world, every day has five sunsets. The original cast is out, replaced by Mark Wahlberg as a Texas inventor/redneck/father with a Boston accent who happens upon wounded alien robot hero Optimus Prime -– stoic Autobot leader -– and ends up chased by Uncle Sam thugs led by Kelsey Grammer. Our heroes bolt to Utah then Chicago and then Hong Kong, because in China everyone knows kung fu. And Asia means box office coin. Thousands of people die as robots fight and Wahlbeg’s dad saves his pretty teen girl (Nicola Peltz) whose ass Bay glares at, endlessly. The script talks the death of original cinema early on, but “T4” unironically regurgitates films 1-3 and stacks bewildering logic lapses one upon the other. Greatest jaw-dropper: Beijing and Hong Kong within a short drive. Even by the greatest allowance for “dumb” fun and the occasional jolt of a cool image (all those sunsets), Bay’s films are cinema’s death. Soulless, brainless empty robots. D

Veronica Mars (2014)

I went into “Veronica Mars” with not just a blank canvas, but a mistaken impression. I thought the cult hit TV show with Kristen Bell (“Frozen”) followed a high school journalist with a Scooby Doo bent. My error. Bell’s Mars is, in fact, an ex-private investigator who worked as a teen for her father (Enrico Colantoni) who dug dirt in a tiny California town. Now 10 years on, Veronica has ditched the PI life and the West Coast for law and New York City. On the cusp of a big interview, she gets called back home to help an ex (Jason Dohring) accused of murder. Of course Veronica is reluctant to return, but we know she will and we know she will stay, but forget the “we knows.” Writer/director Rob Thomas serves us great characters, a rare small town that vibes authentic, and a slash at the misery of high school reunions. Yes, a reunion coincides with the murder. Far too much? Thomas knows and has fun. The dialogue is playful -- Colantoni has the best lines -- without getting high on its own smoke, a la “Juno.” Not enough to get me on the show, but solid entertainment. B+

His Girl Friday (1940)

The perfect romantic screwball. Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell are NYC journalists with the love they have for getting the latest story surpassed only by their love for each other. Odd then that they -– Grant is editor Walter Burns, Russell is reporter Hildy Johnson -– cannot stand each other and were quite recently married. Not enough room in a marriage when the third and fourth partners are outsize egos. The plot is beside the point against dialogue that demands instant replay as every rounded machine-gunned line pops one after the other and on top of one another, leaving the viewer spellbound. But here goes: Hildy returns to the newsroom that is her church and busts in on Burns’ office, declaring her intent to quit and marry an insurance salesman from Albany (Ralph Bellamy), which in newspeak equals marrying a scarecrow from Kansas. Burns has one ace up his sleeve: A sizzling murder trail he knows Johnson won’t refuse. The rest is marvelous. The puns and name drops (“Archie Leech!”) crash the fourth wall, a shout to the audience that no matter how much fun they’re having watching, the actors had more fun playing it. A+

A Hard Day’s Night (1964)

“A Hard Day’s Night” has ultra-young Beatles Lennon, McCartney, Starr, and Harrison lampooning their own skyrocketing stardom in a “documentary” film that pops as if it were made yesterday. Not 40 years ago. It’s f’n brilliant, with whole chunks that must have bypassed ignorant censors of the day. “No, we’re just really good friends,” Starr insisting to multiple reporters, is a highlight. The question is never heard. It’s a celebration and satire of Beatlemania, never critical of the screaming fans, with Richard Lester’s camera following the guys as they trot around London doing all sorts of light mayhem. These guys loved each other and their fans, and the camera loves them. They are also truly funny, enjoying a joke or sight gag, at their own expense the better. When Lester films through camera viewfinders and monitors, capturing the Beatles in screen on screen, it seems the birth of all meta-humor and (relevant) MTV. Forty and it pops like new. Who else could do this but the Beatles? Lennon’s hallway banter. Harrison’s job interview. Ringo’s arrest. Paul’s grandpop. Unparalleled fun.

Three Days to Kill (2014)

Kevin Costner goes a long way in selling “Three Days to Kill,” a Luc Besson-produced action/“comedy” about a dying CIA assassin named Ethan who goes home to Paris to see his estranged family – Connie Nielsen as wife, and Hailee Steinfeld as teen daughter – before he kicks. As it happens, the CIA has one last job for Ethan: Kill two bad guys known as The Albino and The Wolf, who are neither an albino nor a wolf. Golden carrot: Way-too young CIA handler Vivi (Amber Heard) has a magic cure that can keep our man alive. Costner acts aces, truly. But “Kill” made my skin crawl. I’ll say it: Besson shines a creep perv voyeur for teen girls here and with “Taken” and his so-long-ago “Leon.” He fixates on girls who cannot walk outside without falling victim to rape, not without “daddy” to save them. Steinfeld’s teen gets the treatment here. Besson’s fantasy? The take on grad-school-age Vivi as some 1980s Euro-fantasy dominatrix smells of a gross dream of middle-aged men with script approval. Nielsen’s wife has nothing to do but forgive her man, repeatedly. Blame director McG? No. This hangs on Besson. Dickless. D+

Belle (2014)

“Belle” is inspired by history, a 1770s Scottish painting of a half-black woman named Dido Elizabeth Belle on equal level with her Anglo cousin. The posing thumped historic, with the slave trade going on full hell tilt. “Belle” leans standard fictional Brit family drama cum courtroom thriller hoopla, thought it scores marks for telling that Britain and America built their empires on slavery. Fact. Story: Dido (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is raised by distant, but wealthy relatives (Tom Wilkinson and Emily Watson) when life already was bleak for women –- zero rights. Her obstacles are fierce. Nonetheless, she finds suitors, one an anti-slavery proponent (Sam Reid). Meanwhile, Wilkinson’s high-court judge hears a case on slave cargo and insurance. His decision could topple the sick practice and bring economic ruin. (No more free labor.) Belle obsesses on the case. She swipes evidence, dressed in a hooded robe that had me thinking “Jedi.” Heroic Reid shouts so many truth and justice speeches, I thought, “He’d make a great Superman!” Miscast Tom Felton doesn’t help as a snarling bigot. Is he aware he’s no longer playing Malfoy? Amma Asante’s drama is problematic, yes. Look past that. B