Blockbuster Check-In

We're will into the noisy madness of the summer movie season.  While I was struggling to write a formal review of Star Trek Into Darkness, J.J. Abrams' sequel to his 2009 prequel that rebooted the long dormant franchise, I realized I haven't even discussed Iron Man 3 yet and in the spirit of giving-- with more to do with my own inherent laziness, I have decided to take a different approach on the first big summery blockbusters of the seasons.  This weekend's arrival of Star Trek, which opened strongly albeit disappointingly to the tune of $70 million, trails the behemoth, gangbusters kind of numbers that Iron Man 3 set as the movie to best in the summertime sweepstakes.  There's a great many things wrong with this picture-- first and foremost in the notion that a $70 million opening can be in slightest way considered a disappointment, and secondly in the disparate narrative outside the films themselves that their box office picture has painted.  Here's the breakdown:

IRON MAN 3

Opening Weekend Gross: $174.1 million

Domestic Gross (so far): $337 million

Worldwide Gross (so far): $1,073.2 billion

Production Budget (reportedly): $200 million

Those numbers are massive across the board-- right from the start from the start considering how much dough was poured into the latest cog in the Marvel machine (it just about makes you want to watch Steven Soderbergh's infamous, it's-all-gone-to-hell speech he recently gave and give him a great head bump before drinking yourself silly in a sad state of bitterness.)  But wait, it nabbed the second highest grossing opening weekend in North American box office history (second only to, how novel, Marvel's The Avengers) and as of this writing is currently the ninth highest grossing worldwide success story of all time, not accounting for inflation.  Happy days for the Disney-acquired Marvel, as well as Robert Downey, Jr., who returned in his venerable Tony Stark role yet again, and director Shane Black, who after making a name for himself penning early 90s staples like Lethal Weapon and The Last Boy Scout, and directing the glorious neo-noir Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (a film that brought both Black and Downey, Jr. from the pits of extinction) can now claim partial ownership of a big, epic piece of franchise hokum.  What's not to like? 

Everyone's a winner.  The truth behind the numbers is that Iron Man 3 needed a dramatic facelift after the diminishing returns of Iron Man 2, a film that was hopelessly branded more of a mammoth Marvel-sized commercial than anything resembling a piece of deliciously nutrient-free popcorn goodness.  The first Iron Man was, of course, a pleasant diversion-- a riff almost of superhero nonsense that gleefully played to the finely verbose, foot-eternally-in-his-mouth comic sensibilities of Robert Downey, Jr.  The Marvel universe wasn't quite yet a sure thing and the film was able to sustain a sense of spontaneity and a light degree of magic before the machinations of corporate politics took it over.  Remember, Iron Man 2 wasn't especially well-liked by critics, fanboys or the more arbitrarily inclined.  The massive box office is an offshoot of goodwill spurred on by the colossal colossal-ness of The Avengers-- currently the third most popular movie of all time if box office means anything about behavior or is a reflection of passion (I certainly hope it isn't!)  So now what? 

Well, Iron Man 3 is the first of Marvel: Phase Two and the film is all over the place situated in that dreadful position of trying to be and be for everyone while not likely to please many-- the fanboys protest the way the central villain (in this case, The Mandarin) was handled-- while trying to be darker, deeper and substantial, and you know...everything, whilst maintaining that singular Robert Downey, Jr. ironic/quirky vibe that gave the first film such a shot in the arm to begin with.  The tone is all over the place and not in a good way, but in a seemingly desperate way-- almost a cry for arms amalgam of the cheery, candy-colored Marvel way of movies forcibly tinged with the global terrorism and complexity that The Dark Knight provided.  The problem is that those two world will never quite work together and it just makes the film more tired and silly for trying to be both massive pop entertainment in a paint by numbers sequel sort of way while trying to be art at the same time.  C-

STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS

Opening Weekend Gross: $70.5 million

Domestic Gross (so far): $84.0 million

Worldwide Gross (so far): $164.5 million

Production Budget (reportedly): $190 million

Perhaps J.J. Abrams second go at the Star Trek saga was always going to be bridesmaid, the underdog to Iron Man 3-- I mean it did cost a whopping $10 million less to make and that has to make a world of difference.  While I protest the ridiculous notion that Star Trek Into Darkness must be a failure because it didn't manage to break any box office records, that distinction is already, unfortunately, a part of its conversation.  What happened?  Was four years too long a wait after Abrams and team so freshly and adroitly rebooted the long in the tooth Starship (not Star Wars) machine?  Was all that goodwill that was extended four years ago just a lark?  What happened?

Perhaps the truth is that nothing really happened.  Critics and audiences seemed to enjoy Star Trek Into Darkness quite a lot, even the ones who criticized the genetic re-engineering of the Star Trek machine, as well as the continuity errors, character sidesteps and overly cynical touches to further bridge the international divide over the series to begin with (historically Star Trek has been an American-only type success story-- this film is doing better overseas than any prior.)  What happened, is well, movies are expensive and Iron Man 3 (and to a less extent, The Great Gatsby) have been phenomenal sellers in the past three weeks and well, people need a break from it all sometimes.  Star Trek Into Darkness secured an allusive "A" Cinema Score grade which will go far in making sure the film has playability throughout the next couple of weeks and its multiplier should be steady because of that.

Beyond that, Star Trek Into Darkness-- however it extends or contorts from it's established lore-- is a crisp and grandly entertainment summertime popcorn thrill ride.  It may not exactly overshadow the singular surprise factor of the first prequel, but it's a confident and enjoyable companion piece.  The spot-on ensemble is aces, expertly mining the right, just slightly exaggerated way to posit their famed characters with the right balance of humor and homage.  Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto continue to further expand the wonderful bromance at the very core with their respective Capt. Kirk and Spock-- their love story really is the uniting focus of not just Star Trek Into Darkness but perhaps the entire franchise all together.  Whilst Benedict Cumberbatch as the mysterious villain at the center is a alluring, magical and frightening.  Fanboys must just relax...Star Trek Into Darkness is a blast.  B+

May the Force Be With...J.J. Abrams

Ever since news came about of the acquisition of Lucas Films to the Walt Disney Company, with the promise of another round of Star Wars films, the never-ending question became...who would direct it?  Well, now it's confirmed that J.J. Abrams-- mastermind of Lost, Super 8 and Star Trek will helm the next generation of Star Wars.  It was previously announced that Michael Arndt (Little Miss Sunshine, Toy Story 3) would pen the screenplay.

“It’s very exciting to have J.J. aboard leading the charge as we set off to make a new Star Wars movie,” said Kennedy. “J.J. is the perfect director to helm this. Beyond having such great instincts as a filmmaker, he has an intuitive understanding of this franchise. He understands the essence of the Star Wars experience, and will bring that talent to create an unforgettable motion picture.”
George Lucas went on to say “I’ve consistently been impressed with J.J. as a filmmaker and storyteller. He’s an ideal choice to direct the new Star Wars film and the legacy couldn’t be in better hands.”
“To be a part of the next chapter of the Star Wars saga, to collaborate with Kathy Kennedy and this remarkable group of people, is an absolute honor,” J.J. Abrams said. “I may be even more grateful to George Lucas now than I was as a kid.”

What about that.  Now the question comes-- will the Star Trek/Star Wars helmer find himself in conflicts between the two.  And the added irony that the two science fiction prodigal projects are in eternal conflict within one another perpetually.   

Super 8

In a harsh climate of cynical franchise movie-making, it's easy to forget that the summer movie season is supposed to be fun.  And that movies themselves should be capable of registering a sense of magic, mystique and endless imagination.  The eagerly anticipated and excitingly teased Super 8 may not be the cure to mechanical big studio thrill rides that it was imagined, but what it does (and it does well) is remind of the great possibilities that the season should, and more often than not doesn't, deliver.  Lovingly rooted in the earlier days of popcorn movies, ones in which character development and emotional connection ran in tandem with technical showmanship, J.J. Abrams does little to hide his influences, nor should he.  An unabashed tribute to 1980s-era Spielberg (who produced this flick, and it's the first in a long while to adorn the old school Amblin Entertainment logo at the start), there's an endless affection on display.  A dash of E.T. mixed with The Goonies, gently seasoned with a bit of Stand By Me, it's the ultimate 80s movie mash-up, which many might unfairly call a crutch of sorts; that would be unfair, since even Spielberg admits to wearing his influences on his sleeve.  While elements of Super 8 surely must be perceived as a missed opportunity, the majority of the film is gracefully put together, tenderly and thoughtfully rendered, emotionally affecting, and in a few stellar and extraterrestrial moments works a sort of magic in it's own right.  And while Abrams (he of Lost and Star Trek and Cloverfield) has always been, perhaps, more a shrewd marketer than a great storyteller, there's never a moment in watching Super 8 where one doubts his passion or ambition.

Set in the summer of 1979 in small town America (Lillian, Ohio to be exact, but it might as well be a stand-in for anywhere middle-America) we're introduced to a young man named Joe (Joel Courtney.)  He's recently lost his mother, like many a Spielbergian hero, and the only son to the town's sheriff (Kyle Chandler, Friday Night Lights), a good man whose lost his way.  The only spark to Joe's existence is the movies he shoots with his friends, a rag-tag group of misfits, and all boys club, a loving gesture to the producer's own childhood.  Making cheap little monster movies, there's a palpable excitement in watching a movie so clearly and delightfully in love with making movies.  The director, Charles (Riley Griffiths), a bossy, but industrious young filmmaker calls the need for bigger production values and bigger stories.  Enter Alice (played with preternatural grace by Elle Fanning), a girl with a big heart and messier upbringing, and the boldest location shoot for these young middle schoolers at a nearby train station.  By happenstance and a tingling sense of danger there's a crash, a big one, and an even bigger mystery surrounding it.  All of the sudden the military is involved and really weird things start to happen the sleepy little town.  All that bonds the kids is the hope to finish their little zombie movie, and the everlasting curiosity of youth.

The first half of the film plays out the strongest, perhaps due to Abrams long-standing achievements as a television show runner-- he lays the groundwork beautifully (landing the dismount is a bit more problematic), by elegantly pacing this modestly budgeted coming of age nostalgia trip; it both teasing and playful.  The great and unexpected thing, and one that too many summer filmmakers of late neglect, is that we start to care for these kids, and the sheriff...hell even Alice's deadbeat dad elicits affection.  It helps that the child actors, most of them neophytes, come across so natural, with beats that feel like normal childhood rhythms. And while even the most popular of Spielbergian fare has been reduced to schmaltz more than a few times (and I have little doubt the same feeling come around here sooner or later), there's a palpable emotional undercurrent to Super 8 that feels earned, rather than a cheat.  It may perhaps be because Abrams is just as familiar with television as with films that plays a slight disservice to Super 8, whereas the first half of the film is almost too good, too thoughtfully staged that the second half (where the action\sci-fi\genre takes charge of the loveliness of truthful coming of age) feels a tad rushed, a bit under-cooked.  It's as if all that was there was a great idea.  On shows like Lost and Alias, Abrams could tease and play out an idea for years and keep audiences hooked and guessing...Super 8 has and an hour and fifty minutes.

And so it's when the sci\fi-genre-creature conventions overtakes the carefully-layed out character portraits that Super 8 gets into a bit of trouble.  It almost feels like a side plot that's given too much time.  The mystery of the story revolves around an alien, again of nostalgia-based origins.  Part E.T., part Close Encounters, with a hint of War of the Worlds mayhem; the creature itself feels almost haphazardly designed and far less ingenious than the kids' zombie creations.  Sort of ugly and devoid of a personality in film rich with one, it feels a bit like a missed opportunity for pure popcorn alchemy.  As does the military interference, more a device and distraction.  What good does come out of it a marvelous and spellbinding climax, that while perhaps not quite earned, does register an old school sense of filmmaking magic that mixes the grand showmanship of technological possibility with real world emotion.  I'd be hard pressed to say I didn't leave the theater with a gently moist cheek and grin on my face.  Again, whatever there is against Abrams the filmmaker, passion and ambition are there in spades.

For the full circle effect of honoring a great filmmaker in his youth, who famously made his own monster super 8 films, only to end up producing the most affectionate ode to them, is while a bit of the meta-fun, there's enough sparkle in it's own right to celebrate Abrams trip.  For sturdy filmmaking (he's a fan of flares, so Star Trek fans will rejoice) and carefully developed, emotionally invested characters may be the rarest of things for summer movie offerings, it's also the richest.  There's a lovely even fuller full circle moment in Super 8, where Joe is applying make-up to Alice.  She rolls her blonde hair up into a perfectly coiffed bun, reminiscent of the classic Hitchcock model.  Abrams wears his Spielberg influence in his heart, the same way Spielberg wore his Hitchcock influence on his heart.  Whether it was intentional or merely a fluke, there's a sense of the filmmaker paying nods on more than level at once, and any fan of magic of cinema can embrace that.  B+