The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part II (2015) and one more Movie Round Up

Don’t let any of this let you think I don’t bow to the acting power that is Jennifer Lawrence … or Donald Sutherland, the latter one of my favorite actors, whether he’s saint or sinner. But, barely 400 pages, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay did not deserve two films. Yet here we are, me watching a two-hour-plus film of the back half of a slim YA novel that was a quick dystopian read, but can’t sustain 4-plus hours of film. Serious time suck. You know the plot? Teenage hero Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) lives in a “Nineteen Eighty-Four” world with Sutherland as a fascist dictator who hosts annual war games on TV with kids killing kids, for fun. Rebellion hits. This is the final (final) fight-the-power war film, but a slog; limp where it ought to bite. Author Suzanne Collins never had the drama for this much movie. Katniss suffers a devastating loss midway through. On page, it killed. On screen, it whimpers. Two films one year apart, the tension vaporizes. “Mockingjay” ought to leave a viewer restless, dizzy, hungry. This third sequel, coupled with its cringing long first half left me tired, listless. RIP Philip Seymour Hoffman in his final film. B-

Dwayne Johnson battles an angry Earth in San Andreas (2015), a goofy earthquake drama that matches endless CGI to 1970s disaster flick kicks. Millions die. Johnson saves his family. F those other people. A film made to endlessly mock, safely from the East Coast. B

In The Swarm (1978), a regretful-looking Michael Caine plays a scientist battling a massive bee attack on America. The bees aren’t the threat. It’s the dialogue: “By tomorrow there will be no more Africans,” a hero says. Seriously. A white guy says that. One wonders how this movie ever saw the light of day. D-

Gaslight (1944) is so famous a mind-fuck film, the title has become its own phrase, Gaslighting. Ingrid Bergman plays a young wife driven mad by her husband (Charles Bergman) in a mystery plot that still burns. Fantastic photography and a great performance by Bergman, with Angela Lansbury, too. Watch it, with the lights out. A

Matt Damon goes to Iraq in The Green Zone (2010), a war drama that takes on the great WMD FUBAR by the Bush Administration, but with such a heavy lib hand of self-righteous finger-waving, Michael Moore might weep. Paul Greengrass directs. Less is more, guys. B-

I re-watched Casino Royale (2006) weeks before new Bond film “Spectre” came out. I post out of order. Forget that film. This is classic. Daniel Craig’s first outing sticks (kind of) close to Ian Fleming’s book with untested 007 taking on an arms-dealing crook (Mads Mikkelsen) at a poker table. Brutal, thrilling, and constrained, this is near Bond’s best. A

Robert Mitchum is one of my favorite actors. He sells everything he ever did with seemingly no effort, a guy who has done more off screen than most heroes and villains have on. In Yakuza (1974), Mitchum is a WWII vet who returns to Japan as a private dick to do private dick stuff, and gets roped in a conspiracy dating back 30 years. The clunky swords-and-guns finale is way much, the thump chopping way way much, but there’s a pulse of haunted, ragged blood in this Sydney Pollack film that can’t be faked. B+

Tim Burton’s best film remains Edward Scissorhands (1990) a satire and love story about a misfit boy (Johnny Depp with little dialogue, but perfect) left incomplete by his kindly creator (Vincent Piece, in his final role). Instead of fingers, Edward has long sharp scissors that can slice his own face and slice others. Taken in by a Florida family (Alan Arkin and Diane Wiest) with a teen daughter (Winona Ryder), Edward learns the American Dream is lovely, as long as you never question the American Dream. Burton has rarely worked with a more soulful, playful screenplay, and he is given a masterpiece score by Danny Elfman. Ryder dancing in a storm of ice iBurton’s best moment, ever so brief, as she is cut deep, and accidentally, by Edward and blood spills. As remarkable as when I first saw it. A

Midnight Run (1988) -– never saw it until now, imagine that -– is part of the 1980s staple of buddy flicks, mismatched characters played by marque actors bicker and fight ’ti they have be friends. “48 Hrs.” “Lethal Weapon.” “Trading Places.” Y’know, right? Here, Robert De Niro is an ex-cop turned bounty hunter taking Charles Grodin’s thieving mob accountant with a heart of gold to jail. Cross county. By car, train, biplane, and foot. Funny. Smart. With an edge. Grodin driving De Niro nuts is great, great fun. B+

A Most Wanted Man (2014)

One cannot watch Anton Corbijn’s ultra-tense “A Most Wanted Man” without mourning Philip Seymour Hoffman’s shocking death. “Most” is Hoffman’s final lead role, a notion that undeniably hovers over every dark frame. This story is rooted in futility and a man facing certain doom, likely eternal loneliness. Hoffman is chain-smoker German spy chief Gunther Bachmann, suffocating under the pressure of his job: Tracking suspected Middle Eastern terrorists in Germany post-9/11. The trick: Bachmann wants his suspects walking free to lead him to larger, more dangerous targets. His latest mark is a maybe innocent son (Grigoriy Dobrygin) of a war criminal who may want to truly dissolve his father’s ill-gotten future. The man brings into his circle a banker (Willem Dafoe) and a lawyer (Rachel McAdams) who quickly realize there are no bystanders in terrorism. More so, Bachmann is being hounded by bureaucrats to make arrests now, forget logistics. Who’s right? Who’s innocent? Nothing matters, and from the John Le Carre book from which this comes, that mindset can only lead to another dark day. The finale is a pulverizing gut punch. Hoffman truly marvels as a tired man crumbling before us. See it nonetheless. A

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Katniss Everdeen goes “Godfather III” in “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire”: “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” That’s the story here: One year after the Appalachian teen (Jennifer Lawrence) and her maybe platonic pal Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) survived an Orwellian government’s “Most Dangerous Game” for Youth, she’s sucked back into the blood sport for Round 2, up against fellow veterans that include Hutcherson back as the Cub Scout kid, and Sam Claflin (that awful fourth “Pirates’ film”) as a swashbuckler stud with a secret. Donald Sutherland as the dictator of this FUBAR USA still sparkles evil winks, knowing he’s the Actor King on set. Even Philip Seymour Hoffman as a new Game Master bows to his greatness. This sequel -– like its own source –- digs darker as Katniss finds herself a hero/pawn in a far-too-real game that has soldiers executing old men in public. Lawrence owns this film. Post “Silver Linings Playbook” Oscar win, she could phone it in. She seems the real deal. Truly. Director Francis Lawrence (“I am Legend”) may not have the heart-breaker moments that scored the first installment, but the final shot pumps the blood for more Games. A-

The Master (2012)

In “There will be Blood,” Paul Thomas Anderson told the story of America’s greatest gifts -- capitalism and religious freedom –- gone mad. “The Master” does not rise to such heights, but it never could have. It also follows two men -– again representing one idea -– at odds. Joaquin Phoenix plays Freddie Quells, a World War II vet who is violent, perverted, alcoholic, immature, and a drifter, until he literally stumbles onto the yacht of a man close in age, but light years beyond Freddie’s mental reach. Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is a scientist, writer, philosopher, and cult leader of a trillions-year-old self-help religion known as The Cause. (Scientology? Maybe.) Dodd has a family and scores of admirers. Quells wants it all, to be Dodd, but can’t recognize that impossibility. It is clear that Quell stopped maturing at 13. He’s all awkward male poses and farts, a hormonal teenager. Dodd sees Quell as a pet project, and Quell pings-pongs, loving and loathing Dodd as others point out the man’s fakery. Yet, Dodd is convinced of his own powers. So, who truly is the better man? Like “Blood,” Anderson offers few answers, but provides another riveting, fascinating, and endlessly debatable story. A

Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

Paul Thomas Anderson’s 90-minute bizzaro romantic fable “Punch-Drunk Love” follows a terribly lonely misfit finally meeting the love of his life. It has everything I love about PTA films, from “Boogie Nights” to “There Will be Blood” –- including the bold realization you are watching a genre film turned on its side -- but on a small and personal scale. It stars Adam Sandler in a loose and heartfelt performance laced with an inner anger that blew me away. He plays Barry, an entrepreneur with possible autism, definite OCD issues, and prone to fits of shocking rage. He cannot contain the boiling hate over his shitty life. Until he meets her, love of his life. Played by Emily Watson. It’s as if Anderson saw Sandler on one end of the cinematic field (“Waterboy”) and Watson on the other end (“Breaking the Waves”) and said, “These two belong together.” I never imagined Sandler could go toe-to-toe with Philip Seymour Hoffman (as a scuz out to ruin Barry) and win, but Anderson has performed a miracle here. That Sandler insists on making “Jack and Jill” crap when he could be making films on this level is nuts. B+

Ides of March (2011)

See “Ides of March” for its standout cast. Ryan Gosling. George Clooney. Paul Giamatti. Philip Seymour Hoffman. Jeffrey Wright. Evan Rachel Wood. A Giamatti and Hoffman face off? How cool is that? They need a better movie. This grim political drama should torch the screen. It barely sparks a flame. It’s about a suave campaign director (Gosling) devoted to his governor boss (Clooney) who is eyeing the presidency. And then – bam! – our hero learns his boss is a loose cock. Shocker? Not to the audience. But to Gosling’s Stephen Myers, yes. In modern America!?! Go on, watch. See if you can pick up motives I did not. Why does the governor reek of a trite symbol and not a person, and his wife (Jennifer Ehle) barely human at all? Did Wood’s intern eye Stephen with an agenda? She must have. How can anyone as smart as Stephen still believe in the whole candidate-savior crap at age 30? The dialogue should sting “Sweet Smell of Success” style, but it slumps. Clooney directs, with grey skies, dark bars and kitchens. Shakespearean? No. Melodrama? From start to finish. The high grade is for the cast alone. B