A Fistful of Summer 2014! (Matt’s Picks)

    This year has, overall, been a huge step up from the past two, and it seemed like every week I was seeing some movie that I enjoyed, or really enjoyed.  Though there have been few ‘amazing’ films, there has been a wide variety of very good movies.  So, looking back on the Summer, I’m gonna give a countdown of my five favorites.  (See how they compare to my Fistful of Summer Anticipation).


5.  Cold in July:  A nasty, ugly crime caper set in the 1980s.  It takes some unexpected turns, to say the very least.  And it gets dark.  Real dark.  Steel wool shower dark.

4.  The Rover:  Australia is the sight of yet another horrible, petering out apocalypse.  Hopeless people do awful violence to each other.  A movie that makes you try to shake the sand from your hair, wipe the sweat from your brow, and keep an eye on the horizon, for danger is always close.

3.  Jodorowsky’s Dune:  One of the great What If? stories from the annals of science fiction and Hollywood.  The Dune that didn’t happen.  The Dune that shaped Alien, Star Wars, and countless films that did happen.  The Dune that still echoes through the mind’s eye of filmmakers and artists decades later.  Would it have been good?  Would it have ever really happened?  Would it have changed the perception of generations?  Who can say?  But it’s a compelling story, none the less, and Jodorowsky is a wonderful mad messiah.

2.  Godzilla:  I’m a Godzilla fan from way back, and while not a perfect film, this new take is firmly rooted in the things that make the original movies magic.  When Godzilla unleashed his atomic breath, I was a kid again, looking at nature in all its fury.

1.  Guardians of the Galaxy:  The Marvel Cinematic Universe finally opens the doors to the realms of my interest, the cosmic.  I’ve always been more of a rocket ships and ray guns kind of guy, as opposed to capes and eye beams.  Taking a page from the original Star Wars, and one from Firefly, this film reminds us that space opera should be fun and exciting, and not always dark and depressing.

    I want to give an honorable mention to Life Itself, a fascinating look at the life of Roger Ebert; The Hundred-Foot Journey, a cute romance with some good food porn; and Chef, a heartwarming father & son adventure…with some good food porn.

-Matthew J. Constantine

A Fistful of Summer 2014! (Brad's Picks)

May to August, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 to Sin City 2.  Ha! You would not know it from the starting shot or the finish line, but Summer 2014 is going down as one of the better Blockbuster Seasons.  Thank god.  I don't think I could take another drought like last year.  And as you'll see below, this was one of those rare years in which nearly all the films I was anticipating landed in my Top Five.  Financially, fewer butts hit the seats this year, but that didn't stop Guardians of the Galaxy from crossing $500,000,000 worldwide, or that TransFOURmers behemoth from stomping all over Earthly good taste.  Geez.  Rocket Raccoon is a real-deal Hollywood icon!  I can't believe it...can you?  Just a few months ago I was worrying that America wouldn't show up, and we'd be stuck with just Iron Man & Captain America sequels until this whole spandex hype died down.  Looks like that's not going to happen anytime soon.  Bring on Doctor Strange.

However, as great as it is to report the success of the films below, it's a little bit of a bummer to not have a slew of out-of-nowhere surprises.  I enjoyed a batch of mean little dramas amongst the popcorn fare (Locke, The Rover, Snowpiercer), but as fantastic as their lead performances were their narratives lacked a certain punch.  A lot of folks seemed to go nuts for X-Men - Days of Future Past, but as I did with the previous X-Films, I found Bryan Singer's latest to be a mediocre comic book pretender.  Those are just not my X-Men.  Meanwhile, the knives were out for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & The Expendables 3, but I found them both to be disposable fun.  The Rock dropped a deuce with Hercules, yet nothing will kill the charm of that man.  Next summer, say the word - "SHAZAM!" and I'll be all over that film.

And then there were those Summer bookend sequels, Spider-Man & Sin City.  Damn.  They really were the only films this year that I absolutely loathed.  Similar to my X-Men reaction, Marc Webb's Spider-Man just doesn't work for me.  He's now crafted two films in which Peter Parker is defined by death.  Spidey is not Batman.  I'm not asking for a disco strut comedy for ol' Web Head, but Peter Parker lives & breathes through his sense of humor, and it's important to showcase the thrill that his adventures illicit for the woe-is-me nerd.  Sin City's biggest problem is that it is so brutally dull.  Whatever your thoughts on Frank Miller's source material, generally the complaint is not boredom.  As cool as Robert Rodriguez's green screen tapestry was in 2005, the end result here is not nearly as artful as the comic book graphics, and the drag-and-drop performances are absolutely lifeless.

Both Edge of Tomorrow & 22 Jump Street get the Close-But-No-Cigar Award.  I had an absolute blast with each film, but they dragged on a little too long and suffered during their final moments.  It's popular to hate on Tom Cruise these days, but as one-time fans pretend to distance themselves from the Scientologist, I find myself warming up to the Movie Star.  I'm no apologist, and I won't defend crazy, but the man has never phoned in a performance.  From Knight and Day to Rock of Ages, Cruise throws himself into his roles, and as he delves deeper into genre the resulting movies have been rollicking thrill rides.  Edge of Tomorrow is one of his recent best.  22 Jump Street is simply hilarious.  Channing Tatum & Jonah Hill, a buddy cop team equal to Tango & Cash.  And if Tatum's meet-cute had actually traveled its obvious narrative path, then I could have forgiven the overlong runtime.

5.  Life Itself:  I've watched more documentaries this year then any previous.  A lot of them dealt with the arts (Jodorowsky's Dune, The Dog, To Be Takei) and a couple highlighted social injustice (Dinosaur 13, Let The Fire Burn).  On the surface, Life Itself appears to be a simple talking heads tribute to Chicago Sun Times movie critic Roger Ebert.  Sure, it's that.  Although, thanks to Ebert's allowance of Steve James' ever-present camera, the film also captures the universal experience of a life winding down.  What is it to say goodbye to a loved one?  How do you define your existence?  Life Itself is a celebration of the movies, sure, but it's also a celebration of Love itself.  Roger & Chaz.  Heartbreaking, heartwarming.  I imagine the more you appreciate Ebert's work, the more you'll enjoy the film, but I also think Life Itself offers a lot for the uninitiated.

4.  Godzilla:  Unlike Matt, I did not grow up the Godzilla fanatic.  In college, I watched & appreciated the original film, but that's about it.  However, in preparation for this latest monster-mash, I made it my mission to bone-up on the classics.  I succeeded in watching nearly all of my resolutions, and that certainly had an affect on how much I enjoyed this remake.  Obviously, I friggin' loved it.  You might be one of those frustrated folks that felt there wasn't much of the monster, or that the human characters were one-dimensional...I agree with you.  So?  Bryan Cranston & Aaron Taylor Johnson got the job done.  Would I have enjoyed the movie more if they were complex individuals with arcs involving weepy internal struggles?  Maybe.  But I don't need that in Godzilla.  Broad strokes are perfectly apt in Blockbuster magic.  What I need is dread....devastation...and a bastard brawl between beasts.  Gareth Edwards delivers on that.

3.  Cold In July:  Joe R. Lansdale, one of my favorite novelists finally gets a movie adaptation worthy of his twisted stories (I love Bubba Ho-Tep as much as the next blogger, but that's more about Bruce Campbell's charm than a satisfying script).  Michael C Hall is a weak Texas family man who frantically kills an intruder just minutes after the opening credits.  A violent act that ignites a grotesque plunge down a rabbit hole most viewers will not be equipped to handle.  Faint of heart, need not apply.  Cold In July is a mean-spirited flick full of awful surprises, plus a pair of delightfully grizzled turns from Don Johnson & Sam Shephard.

2.  Guardians of the Galaxy:  Fun.  The end.  You probably won't have more of it this year than you will riding around in The Milano with Star-Lord and his gang of intergalactic losers.  It's been 20 years since we've had a space adventure this genuine.  Fanboys love tossing Star Wars around, and they're not wrong, but Guardians feels more like the Star Wars knock-off film folks like Roger Corman were so desperate to recreate in blunders like Battle Beyond The Stars. But, you know, it's actually AMAZING.  Chris Pratt has all the requirements of a Han Solo character - charisma, a bit of a dick - yet he still manages to get upstaged by a raccoon, a tree, and a professional wrestler.  The film is not without its flaws (big bad Ronan The Accuser lacks threat, the hand-to-hand combat is bland, mean green Gamora is disappointingly upstaged by the raccoon, the tree, the pro wrestler, and the Han Solo), but you're having too much damn fun to harp.  Again, I am pleased as punch that Guardians proved to be such a success, and now we're ready for the rest of Marvel's Cosmic Universe.

1.  Dawn of the Planet of the Apes:  A character centric melodrama disguised as a big expensive Summer Blockbuster.  Similar to Godzilla, I hear your complaints about one-dimensional human characters.  So what?  They're barely in it, and they only serve to punctuate the emotions of the film's real leads - Caesar & Koba, a couple of chimpanzees struggling to lead their families from squaller to civilization.  What the animators, Toby Kebbell, & Andy Serkis have accomplished here is the next stage in performance; the subtlety in their movements packs as much of a wallop as the Apes on Horses machine gun climax.  For this fanboy, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes represents the very best of Have-Your-Cake-And-Eat-It-Too filmmaking, and it is the very best of Summer Entertainment.

--Brad

Matt’s Weeks in Dork! (7/13/14-7/19/14 & 7/20/14-7/26/14)

    Due to a technical difficulty, I present two weeks…


(7/13/14-7/19/14)

    On Sunday, my lady and I headed in to DC to see the National Building Museum and its human sized maze.  An informative tour and a nice exhibit on House & Home.  But darn it, that maze was cool.  Mazes have always been a fascination, and getting to go into one was a treat.  Part of me would love to do one much, much larger.  From there we went to The Hamilton (where I felt distinctly under dressed) for a nice brunch, and then to E Street, where we saw Life Itself.  A good day in DC.

Life Itself:  This portrait of the famous populist movie critic Roger Ebert does a fine job of showing the man behind the face.  Not all one thing or another, a character, and a great ambassador of film.  His story feels like one of those old time movies, where a plucky young kid gets a dream job and has a meteoric rise, with the usual pitfalls of wine and women, and the eventual triumph.  But there’s more to it than that, as there always is.  And telling his life story, intercut with the story of his death, the ravaging cancer that would claim him, bit by bit, until it finished him off, was poignant and heartbreaking, but also uplifting and dare I say it, a bit inspiring.  A colorful character with an interesting life.  And a documentary well worth seeking out, especially (but not exclusively) for movie buffs.

The Lego Movie:  This cute CGI film is a lot of fun, occasionally very clever, and perfectly enjoyable.  It’s not amazing.  But it’s good.  I like the story, I like the voice work, and though heavy handed, I like the message.  If you have kids, this is a good one, as there’s plenty for an adult to enjoy, too.

    Friday night we met for the graphic novel club, where we discussed Aya: Life in Yop City.  I think only one person hated it, nobody seemed to love it, but a few enjoyed it enough to want to read on.  I didn’t hate it, but certainly have no plans to read any more.

    On Saturday evening, Brad and I headed over to Wolf Trap to see 2001 with live music.  This was my second time to the venue, which I’m not in love with.  But it was certainly better than I remembered.  I suppose I can see the charm of sitting on the lawn, though I don’t think I would be well suited for it, with my gimpy legs.

2001:  Just a darned amazing film.  I’ve written about it many times before.  What I’ll say this time is that seeing it, projected on a big screen, with live orchestral accompaniment was a whole new experience.  Because so little dialog happens, and when it does, it’s not with music, this movie is sort of like a silent film, witch lends itself to live music.  When I saw Casablanca with live music, there were issues because of the constant score and the original mono recording.  This was much better.  And seeing it with a thousand or so people…really something.  People nervously or knowingly laughing when Hal starts to crack.  Kinda amazing.

(7/20/14-7/26/14)

    So, on Sunday, my computer had some rather profound technical difficulties, taking me not just offline, but off writing in any serious way.  I got some more reading done, and some more movie watching, but I also had kind of a busy week.

In the Mood for Love:  Gorgeously shot, wonderfully dreamy, this romance doesn’t play the way one would expect.  It feels like you’re constantly watching surreptitiously, voyeuristically as two people come together, expressed in brief moments, looks, and seemingly innocent encounters.  Where some of Wonk Kar Wai’s films have a frantic, hand-held feel to their cinematography, this is shot wonderfully still and painting-like.

Under the Skin:  Upon second viewing, my problems with the film’s finale abated somewhat.  I think I get the idea more, so it doesn’t bug me as much.  Whatever the case, this is a fascinating film, a science fiction/horror movie with no exposition.  At no point does the script give you any information.  You just watch as things happen and are forced to make up your own mind.  There are some beautiful moments, some haunting scenes, some surreal and some wonderful things.  It’s not going to be for everyone.  But I really like it.  The closest thing I can compare it to is the rather obvious The Man Who Fell to Earth, but I was reminded of recent weirdly quiet films like Only God Forgives, too.

Fanfan La Tulipe:  France’s answer to Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood, this light hearted swashbuckling adventure film is charming and fun.  Nothing too serious.  Nothing too heavy.  Pretty women, handsome men, daring-do, and some humor for color.  Good times.

    I read the second volume of Prophet, which continues to amp up the Dune-type insanity.  I’m really loving how crazy this book is.  Can’t wait to see where it all ends up.

How to Train Your Dragon 2:  There are some bits near the end that I wasn’t enamored of, but overall, this is a pretty good sequel to the surprisingly good How to Train Your Dragon.  I like the cast of characters and the setting created.  The animation is quite good.  And they do a fantastic job of giving the dragons, particularly Toothless, a great deal of personality.  These are the kinds of fantasy films I’d have gone absolutely mad for as a lad (and still dig as an old man).  And the comic relief doesn’t suck.

The Innocents:  A well shot and creepy horror film that adds little to the genre, The Innocents is perfectly watchable.  If you’re in the mood for something like The Haunting, this is a good option.  The performances are good and the mood is thick.  The story is a bit blah, but what do you expect.  Ghost stories, especially haunted house stories, all pretty much play out the same way.

Bluebeard:  If it wasn’t for the totally exploitative use of hunting footage, where we’re shown real animals of various types really getting shot and killed, I would be singing this film’s praises.  Excepting that, it’s campy fun of the highest order.  Richard Burton is so far over the top you have to wonder if he even knew there was a top.  The women are pretty, the clothes are optional, and the comedy is weirdly good.  Again, if it wasn’t for the real animal killing footage, I think I’d have run right out and bought a copy.

    On Friday afternoon, I read the new humorous book, Fun with Kirk and Spock, a parody of the old Dick and Jane books.  It's very cute and funny.  I love me some classic Trek.

The Golden Goose:  Not one of the better German folk tale adaptations I’ve seen, this one is more annoying than good.  There are some good bits, and it teaches (as fairy tales do) some valuable lessons.  But the songs kind of suck, and the constant laughing gets creepy quick.

Elena and Her Men:  I’ve liked several Jean Renoir films, and I love Ingrid Bergman.  But this movie never got my attention.  I didn’t connect.  I suppose it’s cute, and there are some good scenes.  However, I never became invested in the characters or the story.  And honestly, I didn’t really like Bergman in it.

Demetrius and the Gladiators:  Possibly more ham-fisted than The Robe, and sadly lacking in Richard Burton, this OK sequel does feature a good performance from William Marshall and some gladiator fighting.  Not much else, sadly.

    Co-Dork Brad is at the San Diego Comic Con, sending reports back.  So far, the two most interesting tidbits to come out of the con are about the Godzilla sequel that’s going to feature Mothra, Rodan, and my favorite all time kaiju, King Ghidorah, and that there are plans to do a Skull Island film.  My hope is that this is a return adventure to the birthplace of King Kong, and not some kind of prequel or reboot.  There’s no reason the story shouldn’t be a straight-up sequel to 2005’s Kong.  And one of my complaints about that movie (which I love) was that they didn’t spend nearly enough time exploring the island and its history/mythology.  Fingers crossed.

Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla:  I like the story of the disgraced soldier who redeems herself through piloting Mechagodzilla.  And this one has some pretty cool fighting.  But anyone who’s survived trashy 80s sci-fi/horror films knows, you don’t use the body parts of killers when you make your killing machines.  Don’t do it.

    I didn’t finish it, as it’s kind of like reading the Bible (or worse, 1960s Marvel comics), but I’ve plowed through a good deal the first volume of Jack Katz’s First Kingdom.  I like it a lot.  There’s something magical about it, like golden age science fiction, classic myth, and some nameless something.  Very cool.

-Matthew J. Constantine

Brad's Week in Dork! (4/7/13-4/13/13)

I spent the first half of this week watching nothing but Homicide - Life on the Street.  That show is just too damn good.  Not Wire amazing, but shockingly close.  And Andre Braugher has to be my go to Super Cop.  Forget Serpico.  Forget Dirty Harry.  Frank Pembleton is the real deal.  He's an angry asshole, but he's right more often than he's wrong, and he'll drop you with words rather than bullets.  As I type this it's nearly 2AM and I'm blitzing through the 4th season.   I'll be done with this series much quicker than I had originally anticipated. Heartbreaking and utterly compelling television.

The rest of the week was pretty much a continuation of last week's Roger Ebert/Martin Scorsese theme.  I finally managed to track down my copy of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, and Matt & I had a total blast rockin' out to that insane bit of pop culture.  "This Is My Happening And It Freaks Me Out!!!!"  I also started Scorsese by Ebert.  It's a cool little book that collects past & present reviews of Scorsese's films; the plan is to pick at it as I make my way through the filmmaker's career.  The book is an obvious love letter, maybe even a blind courtship.  Ebert was deeply affected by Scorsese's first film Who's That Knocking At My Door (originally titled I Call First), and the rose colored glasses got planted early, allowing a shockingly glowing review of the exploitation oddity, Boxcar Bertha.  But, of course, Ebert loves the filth as much as the beautiful - I mean, the man did script Beyond the Valley of the Dolls!  Pervert!

Homicide - Life on the Street Season 3:  Two bouncing red balls occupy the majority of the season.  First, The White Glove murder.  Pembleton & Bayliss follow a trail of breadcrumbs that leads from the murder of Baltimore's Good Samaritan Award winner to a possible serial killer.  The case plunges super cop Frank Pembleton into a religious crisis that perfectly showcases Andre Braugher's exceptional handling of that self-righteous/bastard mix.  Halfway through the season Felton, Howard, and Bolander are shot down in a tenement stairwell.   While they fight for life, every standing detective races to discover the identity of the shooter.  The three parter ends with special guest star Steve Buscemi in the box.  Another great season of television.  Again, the brilliance of this show is not the inevitable criminal behind bars (which is not so much an inevitability with Homicide), but in the manner in which these investigations torture and live inside the detectives.  Three seasons in and the Adena Watson case is still ever present with Tim Bayliss, and his inability to move beyond that murder affects his relationship with Pembleton.  This just does not happen with Law & Order.  You can see The Wire getting born in the scripts of Homicide.

Jurassic Park 3D:  "I was overwhelmed by the power of this place!" Steven Spielberg's last great hurrah in adventure cinema; more recent attempts like Tintin & Crystal Skull just utterly fail to capture the awe & astonishment found in Jurassic Park. Partnered with the wonderfully high performances from Jeff Goldblum and Laura Dern, these two sell the hell outta the cgi/animatronic beasties. Objects may appear closer in the mirror? Yer damn right when Ian Malcom's spraying himself with fear. Sam Neil, however, remains my favorite player. The manner in which he bonds with the two children after experiencing his own rebirth of wonder is classic Spielbergian heartstrings. Dean Cundey proves that he may be the greatest photographer of monsters, not enough credit is given to the lighting & staging of the lens to sell the dino splices (the man also shot John Carpenter's The Thing if you dare have any doubts on his title). Jurassic Park might lack the heartbreak of King Kong, but it is most certainly the modern version of Skull Island. As for the 3D conversion? It's certainly weird to experience lens flares flying at you - more distraction than emersion.  Still, whatever gets this beast back on the big screen.

Badlands:  "I'll Kiss Your Ass If He Don't Look Like James Dean." Badlands works best when it explores the power and attraction of celebrity criminals. The screenplay springs out of the infamous Charles Starkweather spree killings, but leaves the gritty details behind in an attempt to understand the mystifying relationship between the two Bonnie & Clyders.  And I'm not sure it quite succeeds. The last five minutes are absolutely fantastic. Martin Sheen in chains, tossing collectibles from his pockets - a comb, a lighter, a pen - the policemen gawking up at this shackled superstar. The film is absolutely beautiful, the midwest has never looked so good. And Malick captures the isolation and farmland mentality perfectly. Warren Oates for his short screentime feels like he stepped right out of my own family's North Dakota homestead. Martin Sheen's soft headed pyscho has that desperation for attention, to break free from the prison of the middle-of-nowhere. But it's Sissy Spacek's tagalong killer that mystifies me. Despite the wall-to-wall narration she supplies, I never quite understand the why of what she's doing.

Age of Ultron #5:  Bryan Hitch concludes his run on this Marvel Event and I'll be sad to see him go- no one captures the punishment of a super hero melee quite like Hitch.  But on the story front, Brian Michael Bendis continues to stretch the script.  We get an unnecessary flashback to the salad days of Mr. Fantastic & Tony Stark, science-talking over the corpse of The Vision.  Ultron's tech sure is weird, right?  Duh. There's a trek through the Savage Land and a bit of blather with the white Nick Fury.  But no Ultron.  We're halfway through this mini series and I still don't have a grasp on the particulars of the apocalypse.  And now we're introduced to time travel and the annoyingly inevitable reset.  As much props that were given to the Jump-Into-The-Action beginning, it was also clear from the start that this Age was never going to last, but now I'm starting to wonder what real effects this series is going to have on the Marvel Universe.  Other than introducing some lame ass McFarlane Toys character or possibly Marvel Man himself.  At the end of the day, Age of Ultron just hasn't nabbed real thrills.

Batman #19:  The book opens with an absurd hostage situation, Bruce Wayne steps out of the Gotham National Bank with a pile of corpses left in his wake.  Commissioner Gordon takes a shotgun blast to the chest & a blank faced Wayne drives a motorcycle over the collapsed Commish.  If Gordon's walking around next issue, I'll cry "Bullshit!"  The rest of the issue develops into an obvious mystery reveal, but I'm perfectly happy due to the use of one of my favorite Rogues.  I'm still waiting for the Scott Snyder of Black Mirror/Court of Owls fame, but this two issue mini will hopefully lead to an epic Bat-deconstruction with the upcoming Zero Year mega arc.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls:  "Rock n Roll is not my kind of poison!" It's Josie & The Pussycats go to Playboy hippie hell - a real demonic nightmare brought to you by the beautiful bizarre combo of Russ Meyer & Roger Ebert. Bosom blaster Dolly Read leads her girl band into the swinging, pot fog world of Los Angeles where they meet the sexual tyrannosaurus Z Man and his Nazi barman.  Michael Blodgett is Lance Rocke, the date rape faced king of swing that steals her heart, springboarding Dolly's boyfriend headfirst into a lifetime of disability...until, a magical Clue-like dinner party cures all via the powers of bat shit crazy. Tagged as a Musical Horror Comedy, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls is obviously Roger Ebert cramming the kitchen sink into one mad, gonzo genre picture and I gotta say...it's a crap ton of fun!!! You've got insane Reefer Madness morality, the violent sex crazed fear of The Explosive Generation, and the wannabe hippie thrills of a million groovy pictures. Sure, it's a mess, but it's also a real gas. As we all know, you have to give your body to the ritual cuz it's "Delicious."

Who's That Knocking At My Door:  Martin Scorsese was 25 years old when he cobbled together his first film, and it's kinda brilliant in how perfectly it captures the themes that plague the rest of his work. Harvey Keitel is a young hood struggling to discover manhood on the mean streets of New York, playing heavy while the Top 40 scores his small time antics.  Life gets tricky when he can't discern his girl from a broad or a bride. His brain's melted from the combo poison of too much religion and too many movies.  Keitel is charismatic as all hell.  His smile could charm the pants off of any imaginary prostitute.  Scorsese might hit the nail hard on the head, but Who's That Knocking is undeniably the arrival of a great American auteur.

Fantastic Four #6:  Easily my favorite issue of Fraction & Bagley's run so far.  The Fantastic Family time travels back to The Big Bang, a school field trip to witness the creation of Everything.  Unknown to the coolest home schoolers ever, a trial from the far flung future has sentenced their greatest criminal to death by means of Big Bang.  I dare not reveal the baddie's name here, but it's perfectly classic and Bagley renders him with Jack Kirby justice.  Also, a little more of that genetic breakdown plot reveals itself as Ben Grimm unleashes some fiery Clobberin' Time.  Still not as fun as its sister title FF, but I'm starting to develop hope.

Saga #12:  The book opens with a horrifying battle scene.  Prince Robot, wounded, and spurting green blood from the neck.  A cute little mouse medic comes to the rescue, but cute little anythings don't last long in the world of Saga.  Prince Robot awakens in orbit of the home planet to novelist extraordinaire, D. Oswald Heist, the man responsible for the romantic pulp that inspired Alana into the arms of Marko.  Robot thinks a little interrogation will lead him to his targets and he's not wrong.  This concluding chapter to the second arc is filled with anger & dread, and it's a strong indicator that this series is evolving into a devastating epic worthy of its title.

Batman and Red Robin #19:  This gatefold WTF cover is the most offensive yet.  I'm deeply disappointed in DC for dragging Frank Miller's Carrie Kelley into the New 52, but only as a costume party stunt.  The real driving force behind this issue is Bruce Wayne's grieving process.  He travels to Frankenstein's castle in an effort to identify the secrets behind resurrection - there he must suffer the blasphemy babel of the monster and ward off Red Robin's insults.  It's a goofy comic book experience, and a sad attempt in light of Grant Morrison's previous Batman Inc #9.  It's gotta be rough on writer Peter Tomasi, he has to move on with this series without the partner on the other side of the ampersand.  Frankly, they should have cancelled this book rather than play this ridiculous round robin exercise (pun intended), and I really hope Carrie Kelley stays outta the 52.

Uncanny Avengers #6:  Rick Remender dips into Jason Aaron's God of Thunder book to tell the tale of an early confrontation between Thor & Apocalypse.  And yes, it involves more time travel.  Seriously, what is going on with Marvel Now and time travel!?!?  HG Wells is bored in his grave.  That being said, this was easily the best issue of the series so far despite the lack of John Cassaday and the time travel malarky.  Onslaught is still out there, but Remender has moved on to a couple other Marvel Universe heavy hitters.  And what's it all got to do with Wolverine medieval past?  Goofy.  Kinda stupid.  But a lot of fun.  Ready for the next issue.

Thor - God of Thunder #7:  After the origin filler of last issue, Esad Ribic returns to illustrate The God Butcher's final solution.  And what does the God of Pancakes & Tamborines have to do with all this heavenly destruction?  Modern Day Thor & Future Thor strategize and get fat on ale, and a great big chuckle can be found in the spin-off possibilities of Thor - Cosmic God Cop!  I'm making this arc sound goofier than it is - the mix of Jason Aaron & Esad Ribic is proving to be beastly heroic poem, the Beowulf of the Marvel Universe...plus, time travel of course.

Sledgehammer 44 #2:  This short little mini comes to a conclusion and the result is simple origin story of a potentially fascinating character.  But how does it fit into the rest of the Mignolaverse?  Only time will tell, but I think this WWII creature deserves a longer story.  As is, it's cute, interesting, uh-huh.  But not the wowza I was hoping for given this rich time period in BPRD lore.

The Place Beyond The Pines:  The first 40 minutes had me. In a pathetic attempt to bring home the bacon, Ryan Gosling's tattooed daredevil makes an insane dash into criminality. Eva Mendes, as the braless mother of his affection, delivers one of her finest turns as she struggles to reject her adolescent lust for him and accept the family ideal in the form of Mahershala Ali. As the wannabe-partner-in-crime, Ben Mendelsohn doesn't come close to scraping the bottom of filth as he did in Killing Them Softly, but he still proves himself to be the scuzziest hostile character actor in contemporary cinema. He owns every frame he occupies. But when Bradley Cooper appears and the film switches into the corrupt cop sub-genre, I dropped out. His story is obvious, routine, and worst of all - a bore. Then the third chapter begins and I nearly went blind with eye roll. The Place Beyond The Pines is desperate for you to feel its "real" independent spirit, but for all the flash acting on display the narrative is too ordinary to support it.

Boxcar Bertha:  Martin Scorsese's first "conventional" film came from the exploitation school of Roger Corman. It provides all the nipples, squibs, and atrocities required of his teacher, but is impossibly injected with the bright young thing's thematic desires and visual hopes. Barbara Hershey gets the job done with her dim bulb ambition, and the sexual conquests of the even dimmer bulbs around her.  David Carradine's Big Bill Shelley is certainly the figure of a Hoffaesque rabble rouser.  He's slick, cool, and full of bravado. Bernie Casey is the brilliantly loyal goon with a flair for harmonica when his hand doesn't clutch a shotgun. But the characters are less interesting than their director's flourishes. The climactic railroad dick showdown is surreally kinetic, with characters nearly levitating, Evil Deadlike as they accept the blasts from Casey's boomstick. I don't think a shootout had ever been attempted in such a dreamlike fashion, all the while, a poor hero slips off into the distance, crucified to a moving train. A solid film with an apocalyptic finale.

--Brad