Tomorrowland

Grade: C-

Now and then a movie comes around that transcends the medium of film, that opens up whole new vistas to your imagination, that invites you to consider the world of possibilities that the future holds, and in short, that inspires you to do great things. Disney’s Tomorrowland, opening this weekend, really wants to be that movie.

As with at least one previous movie I reviewed, I got to attend a free advance showing of Tomorrowland by virtue of being a student at UCLA. The movie was a wildcard for me in terms of expectations; the cryptic marketing had me intrigued, but the big budget visuals put me on guard. One factor firmly in the film’s favor was director Brad Bird, the man behind The Incredibles, The Iron Giant, and Ratatouille. His previous work is solid, particularly in the realm of imaginative Disney-type adventures. But Tomorrowland is not Bird at his best.

The basic spoiler-free premise is this: Casey (Britt Robertson), our plucky young heroine with spunk and gumption, finds a mysterious pin whose visions of a futuristic world lead her on an adventure with Frank (George Clooney), a real George Clooneyish kind of fellow who used to be a plucky kid with gumption. That much you’ll get from the trailer. The movie doesn’t unfold quite in that order, but close enough; the rest that you get in the first part of the film is more backstory on Frank. Beyond that I’d have to spoil plot events, but I’m not sure I could paraphrase well either way because the story gets a little screwy. And by “screwy” I don’t mean “cleverly twisted” so much as “ill developed.” The very existence of the eponymous city is perplexingly unexplained, and the story contains enough plot-holes and gloss-overs that the real motivation behind the film’s existence becomes clearer than it ought to be: to hype up a Disneyland attraction and place some products with fancy visuals. Tomorrowland ends up being a giant commercial for Disneyland and a few other brands here and there. Obviously I knew it would be like that, but I thought (and still think) that if the story were good enough I could overlook the self-plugging.

But it isn’t just the spotty plot or the blatant advertising that drags Tomorrowland down. The writing is rather lazy. The dialogue is clichéd and takes advantage of some of my least favorite tropes (like the dreaded “as you know”) and the characters aren’t really fleshed out enough to be identifiable. Frank is the only one who really follows an arc, and it isn’t a justifiable one. Casey from start to finish is nothing more than the optimistic “dreamer,” a term well overused in the movie, and she deserved a more dynamic position than that. Really, she’s our audience surrogate, but she didn’t have to be so little.

And now that I’ve mentioned the word “dreamer,” I am reminded of the main running theme of the film. When Casey is introduced, she is the only optimistic, go-getter type in sight. She’s the kind of person to ask “What can we do about it?” when everyone else is complaining about problems in the world, and her (really vague spoiler ahead) unwavering optimism basically saves the world. It’s a heavy handed and oversimplified statement that practically attempts to argue that realists are the problem. “Dream big and ignore naysayers,” Disney says to our youth, “because if you don’t then the world will end.”

It’s ironic that the message to dream big comes up in a film so rooted in the past and present, both within the film’s imagery and within the film’s style. The futuristic city of Tomorrowland ought to have a “yesterday” prepended to it; with flying cars, jetpacks, and funny architecture being our main indicators of the technological advancement of this world, the place is one sassy robot maid away from an episode of the Jetsons. Today it isn’t the dreamers of the future that would be at home in Yesterdaytomorrowland; it’s those nostalgic for what the future used to represent. The film to a certain extent acknowledges that, but somehow still misses the opportunity to examine a more current conception of the future. And on the other front, I’d like to believe that a dreamer filmmaker could try a little harder to produce good dialogue, good characterization, and good story development, and not simply rely on the Hollywood standard of big CGI and predictability. This movie telling you to dream big is like that fat middle school gym teacher making you run laps while he sits in a lawn chair.

A few qualifiers are in order: I’ve criticized the CGI on a matter of principle, but the film really is pretty. I said that Tomorrowland’s perspective of the future should be more current, but the old quasi-Jetsons imagery is aesthetically pleasing on its own. Some of the character interactions were quite charming even if they were simplistic. And though I felt the relevant exposition was clunky, the twists of the last act were pretty interesting. I want to make a special point of praise to Matthew MacCaull (whom I looked up just to name here) for playing a hilariously menacing evil henchman. Finally, I should add for the sake of anyone who doesn’t know me that I am both a scientist and a cynic; naturally, in retrospect, Tomorrowland was going to be a hard sell for me. Any movie that plays this fast and loose with physics alienates my scientist side and any movie that declares “dreaming” to be a valid cure for the world’s problems alienates my cynical side.

So there it is. You can probably take a pass, but if you’re the right kind of idealist Tomorrowland might even inspire you to do something great. Or maybe just to buy season tickets to Disneyland.

tl;dr: For a movie whose central message is “dream big,” Tomorrowland dreams pretty small.

Miller’s Crossing

Grade: A

I was talking movies with a friend a few weeks ago and the conversation settled on the Coen brothers. Like any self-proclaimed critic, I generally hate to name favorites, first because it is so hard to choose and second because “favorite” denotes finality. Nevertheless, I don’t mind naming the Coen brothers as my favorite directors. And since I realized while talking to my friend that I’m only a few titles away from having seen their whole lineup, you’ll see a few of their films pop up on this blog while I fix that.

My first stop is Miller’s Crossing (1990). It’s Ethan and Joel’s third movie, after Blood Simple, which I have yet to see, and Raising Arizona, one of my earliest experiences with the Coens (and the most fun you’ll ever have watching Nicholas Cage run around with pantyhose on his head). On the surface, Miller’s Crossing is a gangster movie, but it has less in common with canonical mafia films like The Godfather and more with the old Hollywood noir. The movie features Tom (Gabriel Byrne), the right-hand man to Leo (Albert Finney), a powerful mob boss in an unnamed city. The synopsis is, briefly:Tom leverages his position to pull the strings in a war between Leo and a rival boss over the life of a bookie.

Miller’s Crossing is true to Coen brothers form, simultaneously establishing a world around the characters and remaining otherworldly. It entrenches the narrative in the familiar and romanticized setting of organized crime, complete with fedoras and Tommy guns, and then uses that setting as a springboard for philosophical ruminations. That all happens under the surface, however, and if you want you can simply watch the movie as a crime story, though the action is subdued. The movie has its share of gunfights and fistfights, but these are played simply and quickly to avoid stealing the show. Even so, they form part of the iconographic backbone of the film. Really, Miller’s Crossing is two different movies at the same time, one a classic noir and one a quirky and dreamy drama, and they are connected in all the right places.

In the more superficial viewing, the film is precise. The visuals are a callback to the past. From shadowy interiors lit only by shafts of streetlamp light to silhouette shots of the hero clutching the femme fatale Verna (Marcia Gay Harden) in a phone booth, the movie oozes with Maltese Falcon style (I suppose there are probably less-clichéd comparisons, but I haven’t seen enough old noirs to name one). Gabriel Byrne even drops wisecracks to rival Sam Spade: “Don’t think so hard… You might sprain something.” The plot plays out with the same sort of intrigue and double-crossing as well. In this sense, Miller’s Crossing comes across as very familiar, and would probably seem like nothing more than a ripoff if not for what I’ve described as the other movie in the movie.

Every now and then the stylistic injections of the Coen brothers pop out prominently and, I believe, elevate Miller’s Crossing to something much more than simply an homage to the classics. Most principally, the film takes momentary steps into the surreal. It’s a subtle effect, nothing like Wes Anderson or what I’ve seen of David Lynch, but little things like the solitary operatic singing of a henchman as Tom walks to what might be his death in the woods and a mob boss puzzling over why a hitman would steal his mark’s toupee (when in reality, the viewer observes, a street urchin stole it from the corpse). These little forays out of the normal are why I love the Coen brothers: there is no reason why they couldn’t happen, but you would never expect them to happen, and their injection both augments the atmosphere and lightens the mood. Also true to form, the Irish folk score manages to seem strange and fitting at the same time. I found the unusual music jarring initially, but it quickly grew on me.

Finally, I must point out the quality of the writing. I actually read a negative review of Miller’s Crossing that complained about the film’s lack of initial exposition, but I took the same observation as a strength. The Coen brothers know the value of narrative economy and they allow our understanding of the characters evolve as necessary and not sooner, and the result is quite rewarding. Early in the film, Leo comes to Tom with concerns about his lover in one of the more initially confusing conversations in the movie, because we haven’t met anyone by her name yet. But thereafter, when we discover organically whom the lover is, it comes as a shock that would have been lost in a more “complete” exposition. We join characters who already know each other, and as such we get to know them through context and not through explicit introduction, and the writing is good enough that it works. Couple that accomplishment with witty banter appropriate to the setting and you have the film’s greatest strength.

Certainly Miller’s Crossing is not for everyone. It is a somber, careful film that goes no faster than it needs to, so some viewers will doubtlessly find it slow. It is far from the slowest film I have reviewed so far, however. The movie clocks in at two hours but to me it felt like half that (as opposed to certain films that feel like twice that). If you appreciate the Coen brothers’ craft, or if you want a gangster movie that is quainter than The Godfather and quieter than Scarface, or if you simply like to take my word on things, watch Miller’s Crossing.

tl;dr: Miller’s Crossing is either a gangster movie for artists or an artistic movie for gangsters, but either way it works.

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Grade: B

I sometimes wonder why, in all my pretentious hipstrocity, I keep going to Marvel movies. Whereas I have ignored or criticized so much of mainstream big-budget cinema, superhero movies have an unexplainable draw for me. I can’t really pinpoint what I like about them. They have the same sort of je ne sais quoi that keeps me eating Lucky Charms and Cocoa Pebbles for breakfast even though I scoff at McDonalds for lunch. And no one can deny that Marvel Studios is a pretty reliable source of satisfactory (if not quite the best) superhero fare. They have had some misses (Iron Man 3 comes instantly to mind), but even those are at worst a good Saturday afternoon watch when they pop up on cable.

Avengers: Age of Ultron is not a direct hit, but it’s not one of their misses either. On the contrary, the newest release in the MCU shows just the kind of versatility that Marvel Studios needs to maintain in order to carry out their comically ambitious release schedule. The movie is full of the massive CGI set pieces we’ve come to expect from Marvel, but in spite of feeling awfully familiar, it really didn’t seem like a repeat of the last movie. Among a couple other things, I’d say we have the villain to thank for that.

The synopsis, boiled down to a spoiler-free level, is so simple it’s barely worth saying: the Avengers must team up to defeat the evil robot Ultron (voiced and motion captured by James Spader). While at times his motivation seems odd or unjustified, Ultron makes for a really great villain. Facing the facts, the films of the MCU usually have lackluster villains and Spader introduced a menace that actually seemed menacing from his first introduction. Even fan favorite Loki didn’t really produce as much of an overarching sense of peril for Thor or for the first Avengers installment. As I see it, Ultron’s presence as a compelling enemy saved this movie.

And the movie kinda needed saving. One thing that made the last Avengers remarkable was the way it made the downtime as interesting as the action. Occasionally Age of Ultron shines with the same dialogue and atmosphere, but more frequently, the relevant scenes suffer from what might be chalked up to lazy writing or more likely to a lack of time. The team’s banter seems one-dimensional and overly expository and a lot more time is spent on romantic or otherwise intimate relationships; basically, if it got any cheaper or sappier I’d wonder if the CW had taken over the MCU (yes, I watch both Arrow and The Flash, but I cringe at almost every line of dialogue). The humor is also less present and less clever, as, for example, Captain America’s distaste for profanity becomes the movie’s excuse for a running gag from the opening scene to the final act. But if character interactions suffered, it’s easily attributable to the fact that the movie is massive. It may exceed two hours, but even then it struggles to cover all the ground it has to while balancing such a large leading cast. It’s not so much a surprise that this movie lacks the engaging downtime of The Avengers as it is a surprise that The Avengers had it in the first place.

As for the action (because that’s the real reason anyone watches these movies, right?) it’s for the most part entertaining but rarely exceptional. There’s a surprise here and there, most satisfyingly with Thor and Captain America finding creative combinations of their hammer and shield. The biggest disappointment of the action part of the movie has to be Quicksilver’s underuse, though I probably say that more from being spoiled on his rival depiction in Days of Future Past than any other reason. But the main drag on the action is its frenetic CGI, which was surprisingly not seamless in a couple scenes but was more often just too messy to follow. I mostly noticed that early in the film; I think the situation improved in the last one or two major scenes.

So to wrap things up, Avengers: Age of Ultron is worth a look for a pretty good follow-up to The Avengers. It may lack some of the charm, it may waste some solid emotional opportunities, and it may be so wrapped up in its own self-awareness that it leaves more casual viewers confused, but it has a fantastic third act and one of the best villains in the MCU. And as a bonus, it has less obnoxious pseudoscience babble than the first and a slightly less impossible villainous plot, for those of you who, like me, are burdened with disbelief that can’t be suspended. In all, if you go to be entertained, you will be, and why would you go for any other reason?

tl;dr: The Avengers is perfect movie popcorn, and Avengers: Age of Ultron is movie popcorn with just a tad too much butter on top.