Eastern Promises; Mr. Woodcock

Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg, 2007) - B+

Tricky -- Cronenberg's trademark doom-and-gloom portentousness keeps you waiting patiently for a Big Twist, a left turn like the one A History of Violence took in its third act. It never comes, and once Eastern Promises is over it kind of feels like it's slipped away from you. The key is to come to terms with its distinctly non-fantastic scope -- it's a mafia tale, opening a window into one particular (and probably fictional) seedy underbelly of London; a story of ritual and power, of good people navigating a hideous criminal underworld. But man, it's a Cronenberg movie through and through, with a disarmingly frank focus on sordid details, a direct, effects-heavy approach to gruesome violence that periodically disrupts the otherwise dignified mien, and one sequence that will be studied by fight scene acolytes until the very demise of film as an art form. Not as significant as History or the rest of the man's best work, but certainly suspenseful and disturbing -- the least we can expect from Cronenberg, I guess.


Mr. Woodcock (Craig Gillespie, 2007) - B-

Two ways this could have gone -- making Woodcock a real bastard and the film's villain, or making him basically misunderstood and the film about the protagonist's realization of same. I actually liked the choice the screenplay makes, though (*SPOILER*) it would have been far stronger had it grappled with the child abuse it plays for laughs -- everything everyone thought about Woodcock is wrong, it turns out, but, uh, he was still pretty nasty to those kids. I also wish the movie had stuck to its guns w/r/t the anti-self-help sentiment, instead of dismantling one stupid trope only to introduce another at the 11th hour. But it's pretty funny (the video crafted by Farley's friends to incriminate Woodcock is priceless), usually going just far enough to be satisfying; Billy Bob Thornton's the man, and Seann William Scott kind of is too, though his talents are underused here. Susan Sarandon's presence is a mystery.

Halloween; Death Sentence

Halloween (Rob Zombie, 2007) - C+

Zombie is improving, as I thought he might, and he could actually have a decent horror movie in him one day: he's at the very least a talented stylist with a relentlessly bleak, grungy worldview, something that serves him well in making bleak, grungy, depressing films. The back story he provides for Michael Myers here is compelling precisely for that reason; it's not actually that interesting, a pretty generic abusive childhood rattling an already-disturbed psyche, but it's so grandly unpleasant (mom's a stripper; stepdad is a filthy asshole; house is something out of The Devil's Rejects; school bullies could themselves be horror film villains) that I admit to a certain fascination. If Zombie can harness his flair for this sort of operatic nastiness, I thought, he might come up with something. When he moves on to the more generic slasher horror of this prequel/remake's second half, though, his instincts begin to fail him. In navigating the staple elements of the genre, he's depressingly literal-minded -- making Myers seven feet tall is a stupid, unimaginative move, putting the final nail in the coffin of the original film's conception of the character as a representation of pure evil. In staging the violence, he forgets that all great horror directors, even ones who traffic in gore, know when to look away. Halloween ultimately doesn't deliver the scares and suspense, which is probably a fatal flaw for any entry into this franchise. But Rob Zombie, in his third and "best" feature to date, continues to show some glimmers of promise.


Death Sentence (James Wan, 2007) - B

Now here's a movie, red-blooded, smart, alive in every frame. I am really starting to like this Wan guy; for as long as the underrated Saw franchise keeps up he'll be remembered as the one who got it off the ground, but it's his post-Saw work -- first the creepy, gleefully nasty horror flick Dead Silence and now this -- that makes me think he is going to develop into the sort of genre wizard we always need around. On one level, this is an ode to self-reliance -- the justice system is ineffectual, promising to put the gang-initiation murderer of the protag's son away for a few years, if that, and once the gang declares war, law enforcement is almost willfully unhelpful, basically telling poor Kevin Bacon to suck it up -- but at the same time, the distressing outcome of Bacon's antics and the mournful last fade-out suggest a morbid cautionary tale. Wan, in any event, just chomps down on this stuff, busting out elaborate long takes (the parking lot sequence is awesome) and giving every admittedly implausible twist unexpected dramatic weight. The movie's contrived and, on paper, a little silly, and Wan pulls off a tough balancing act taking on this material without winking, making the exaggerated, grotesque story seem to matter. Garrett Hedlund, cast against type in a role that Ben Foster would have eaten alive, plays a truly fearsome villain -- it's a big performance, one that teeters on the edge of absurdity but doesn't quite tip over, much like the film itself.

Them; Shoot 'Em Up

Them (David Moreau & Xavier Palud, 2007) - B

Really liked the classical horror film that comprises the lion's share of this merciless 77-minute jolt -- Them is a splendid title, but a more accurate one might have been Something, since for much of the film that's as much information as we have about the assailants who pursue the lovely French couple in their rural Romanian home. It's a minor masterpiece of atmosphere, timing, and shot selection; Palud and Moreau seemed to know just what would creep the hell out of me and when -- a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure as a door slams shut, a play of light and shadow on a wall, the sudden appearance of a well-lit tunnel. The identity of the unseen villains doesn't really matter in the sense that the film's pleasures are largely formal anyhow, but of course it does "matter" -- though lots of people extoll "ambiguity," I don't think too many of them would really be content with total abstraction. So there is a reveal, and on its own it's actually quite good: an unexpected, chilling image followed by expository title cards that actually work. I'm just not sure I like this particular ending on this particular horror film, because the resulting effect is abrupt, heavily ironic demystification. To the extent that Them's what-the-hell trappings get our imaginations working, the ending is a letdown, raising the question of why the film played it so close to the vest to begin with. The only possible response is "for fun," which I guess is fair enough. N.B. Rating was a tough call -- it's just this side of the B/B+ borderline.


Shoot 'Em Up (Michael Davis, 2007) - B

"Violence is one of the most fun things to watch," says Paul Giamatti's crazy-ass villain -- and Oh My God, I thought! That's what I've been saying for years! By Jebus there's plenty of it here, non-stop, stylish, and exaggerated to a degree that transcends ludicrous and approaches unfathomable. A newborn's umbilical cord is shot off; Giamatti madly charges the camera with a knife; when the protagonists are interrupted mid-coitus, they dispatch the gun-wielding baddies and complete the act, topping off with the line: "Talk about shooting your load." It's hilarious, transgressive, offensive, and awesome. I also adored the subtext: tough guys don't need guns (the hero doesn't have one of his own), but they don't need gun control laws either, fuck you very much. A trifle, ultimately, but trifles like this don't come along often.