Thursday, October 2, 2014

For the lazy cineaste who doesn't want to travel over to my Wordpress blog (http://filmbrut.wordpress.com/) for my film reviews (I really need to make more time for the movies), here's a transplanted one covering the most popular entertainment de jour.


Marvel's Semi-Precious Age: Guardians of the Galaxy.

When Disney first announced it was paying a king’s ransom to purchase the complete Marvel Comics canon of characters, there was some skepticism that once the Golden Age had been mined and the Silver Age melted down, there wouldn’t be enough left to cast a decent superhero belt buckle. Happily, “Guardians of the Galaxy” proves that you don’t always need a costumed icon to produce a bit of save-the-world fun. While many recent Marvel adaptations like the Avengers have set out clenched-jawed to prove the pages of those twenty-cent Marvel books actually contained high art, director James Gunn found his own beginnings with another decidedly low-brow story factory — the Troma school of filmmaking. Troma Entertainment, known for its “shock exploitation” films like “The Toxic Avenger,” seems like an unusual place for a $170M Disney production to harvest its director. But Gunn had proved his commercial viability by penning a successful pair of squeaky-clean Scooby Doo movies. And there must have been something about his continuing career fascination with superheroes — which outside the entertainment industry might signal a red flag rather than a ticket to wealth — that sparked a neural connection in a Disney executive, landing Gunn at the helm of “Guardians.” Luckily for audiences seeking summer entertainment, Gunn has dialed down the darkness of his recent projects, like the well-reviewed but still mighty creepy “Slither,” and the result is a satisfying uptempo comedy/adventure, even if the plotting often feels more like Scooby Snack-fueled foot-pedalling than thoughtful storytelling. “Guardians” story is barely-there laser blast fare — Star Wars minus the mythology — but the film ultimately pleases by following the fun as ragtag adventurers bond into a team of reluctant heroes.  As an action extravaganza, every penny of the film’s lofty budget appears on the screen. “Guardians” is a gorgeous-looking film filled with over-the-top makeup and sets, some of it quite stunning. It doesn’t strive for a moody, rain-washed authenticity like some other superhero films, but rather a garish cartoony reality, vaguely reminiscent of director Luc Bresson’s sci-fi work and those geniuses of perspective and four-color visual hyperbole: the Marvel artists. The story revolves around space scoundrel Peter Quill (played by actor Chris Pratt of the TV sitcom “Parks and Recreation,” on which he’s crafted a likable He-of-Light-Intelligence persona that he reprises here) and Quill’s attempt to recover a metallic orb containing an unworldly force just waiting to be harvested by half the baddies in the universe. Quill, abducted from earth while still a teen by pirate-like space mercenaries goes by the moniker “Star-Lord.” He’s grown into a punky rebel among these salty space dogs — prone to flipping off policemen, drop-kicking pesky space lizards and blasting his classic rock on a Walkman to liven up the soundtrack (a little too frequently, it’s a vaguely cheap trick). Pratt has described his character as “Hans Solo meets Marty McFly.” I would have preferred Hans Solo meets … someone further out of puberty. Pratt’s Quill is almost too much a boy-child to generate real gravity as the film’s lead. He wields a mean stun gun, but he makes an awkward leader and his moments of genuine heroics get lost behind the joking. The film ends, but he never matures. Still, he’s a likable lunk and the carry-over of his “Parks” persona gives Pratt cred as the Peter Pan of the Forbidden Zone. Zoe Saldana (Lt. Uhura in J.J. Abram’s rebooted “Star Trek” films) is his grudging new sidekick and presumed future love interest, a deadly assassin recently turned away from the darkside. Saldana works earnestly at her role and manages to provide some weight to the otherwise drama-light screenplay, although she’s a little too heavily burdened with the voice of reason. Professional wrestler Dave Batista is another member of Quill’s team of misfits. Saddled with the rather defining moniker of “Drax the Destroyer,” Batista provides some of the film’s best laughs as a humorless yet utterly forthright hulk. He’s Mongo from “Blazing Saddles” decorated in a paisley of ritually applied scars atop real-life muscles that outshine the special effects for pure astonishment.  Not fairing as well as supporting characters are John C. Reilly, managing to look his fuddy-duddy self, even in a neon-lit Buck Rogers uniform, and Glenn Close, as a civic leader with a Bavarian pretzel hairdo, who seems to have invested less thought in her character than perhaps what direction her Disney contract may be taking her. The final members of the Guardians are two CGI-rendered concoctions voiced by Bradley Cooper and Vin Diesel. Cooper is Rocket Racoon, a genetically rewired Daniel Boone hat-in-the-making with an Einstein-like brilliance. Unfortunately, Cooper overplays him vocally, imparting a grating character that is less quasar than quasi-Bowery Boy. In a film that seldom abandons its video game pacing, Cooper’s racoon character is the one reeks most of a video game performance. On the other hand, Vin Diesel, whose part almost entirely consists of the same three words, “I am Groot,” sprouts the film’s most poignant moments as a tree-man whose heart is far less hardened than his bark. His completely other-worldly appearance brings a needed whimsy to the space fantasy, unlike the slight color variations of its humanoids and that earthly racoon whose presence defies any real rationality. It is Groot’s laconic presence and the gentle moments he creates that lets the film pause long enough to show the heart “Guardian” could have used more of. “Guardians” is certain to please audiences with its all-cylinders firing action, but Gunn would have been well-served to let his jets cool down more between sprints. His failing to tug more at the heartstrings and have us fall for his characters is odd, as I have a sneaking suspicion that Gunn was more concerned with cementing them into a franchise and less with crafting a fully realized film. Perhaps with the thought of sequel-to-come firmly in mind, the film’s timing feels off. A prison escape chews up far too much running time, while some major plot points are barely given a comic book frame’s worth of mention. The result is a story that feels penciled in, but not fully inked. But by the film’s finale, Gunn achieves his goal and his cast melds into a gang you’ll be willing to spend more time with in future installments, Awesome Mix Tape Part Deux, which is all any studio could hope for … in this galaxy or the next.

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