122 - Saw III review

"Claustrophobic cruelty." That’s a euphemism coined by a movie studio to describe the current flock of horror films that place great emphasis on the torture of the story’s characters. I’ve always found the splatter film sub-genre disturbing, both because of the reliance of brutality to thrill the audience and the frequent absence of qualities such as proper storytelling, reason, continuity, pacing, editing, or any other trait that makes a movie worth watching.

But at least the splatter flicks of yesteryear were usually too silly to be taken seriously. Their masked, invulnerable killers would slice through packs of nubile teens and local rednecks in such an ultimately laughable fashion that even small children needn’t really feel scared or queasy, just a bit anxious.

Films such as "Saw III" are a different issue entirely. Where films such as "Friday the 13th" extracted thrills from quick swipes of the machete or foot chases through moonlit woods, the killers in the "claustrophobic cruelty" sub-genre are interested in making their victims scream, weep, beg for mercy, watching in pleasure as their victim’s bodies and souls are deformed beyond recognition. The line between bloody fun and vile glee is crossed, the audience invited to enjoy the wretched suffering depicted onscreen.

The villain in "Saw III" never takes an axe to a babysitter’s skull, but instead devices truly sinister traps for his victims to escape from. Early on, a man is hooked to an array of chains, and can either yank them out of his body one by one, or be blown to pieces by an explosive. Next, a woman is hooked into a vest that will crack open her torso unless she can retrieve a key from a container filled with acid.

See what I mean? Just rereading the above description feels more violent to me than watching an entire "Friday the 13th" movie, and I actually watched "Saw III". We’re shown scenarios of this sort over and over until the end, and it’s genuinely sickening stuff. It gives me an idea for a film; an in-depth documentary about the production of the most gruesome scenes of a "claustrophobic cruelty" piece. Now that would be interesting.

The one thing that did impress me, and I use the word impress in the absolute loosest sense of the word, is that the story was slightly more interesting than any other splatter flick I’ve run across. Here, the so-called Jigsaw killer (Tobin Bell) of the two previous installments places Jeff (Angus Macfadyen), a man grieving over the loss of his young son in a car accident, into a bunker filled with vicious traps. The catch is, the traps do not threaten Jeff, but the people he sees as responsible for the death of his son. He can choose to save their lives, or extract long awaited revenge.

Although this elaborate setup feels a bit implausible as Jigsaw is dying of terminal cancer, unable to even leave his bed. Though he has an aide and potential successor in the form of Amanda (Shawnee Smith), I still keep looking around for the Hollywood special effects crew that would really be necessary to craft these devices. Jigsaw does acquire his own personal brain surgeon (Bahar Soomekh) by placing a shotgun shell laden collar around her neck. In case we’re not all grossed out enough, the camera gives us a front row seat as the good doctor cuts away pieces of Jigsaw’s skull.

Have I given away too much of the plot? I would guess not, as anyone who goes in knows well in advance that they’re going to be watching something that would likely have possibly gotten the filmmakers arrested 60 years ago. While I can hardly mask my loathing of this sub-genre, I’ll admit that "Saw III" was likely as enjoyable of this type of film as anyone is likely to see. Bell and Macfadyen’s performances added greatly to the creepy atmosphere, and the standard revelatory monologue at the close puts a decent spin on some of the events of the story.

I am a bit curious about the purported moral of the film, however. Although anyone could instantly recognize the transparent attempt to lend credibility to the massacre, for a moment I will pretend that isn’t the case. See, the filmmakers tacked on a moral about revenge being bad, which I interpret in two different ways: A. Extremely galling considering we’ve just watched a film marketed on sadism or B. A plea from the filmmakers, addressed to audience members like me, pleading with us not to seek retribution for searing some of these ghastly images into my brain. The truth probably lies in ‘A’, but 60 years ago, it would without a doubt be ‘B’.

1.5 out of 5

121 - Borat review

For all the talk about the poison of racism, I rarely hear about its capacity to be quaint. Take the opinions of Borat Sagdiyev (Sacha Baron Cohen), a Kazakhstani "journalist" making a documentary about life in these United States. Borat’s rabid loathing of Uzbeks and homosexuals is matched only by his hatred of Jews. He fears Jews so strongly that an elderly Jewish couple has him shivering in terror, certain they will shift shapes and devour him at any moment.

Despite possessing attitudes that would theoretically make him despicable to Americans not on the extreme left and right, one can hardly feel animosity towards Borat. He hasn’t had the benefit of an education or environment that stresses not so much tolerance as keeping your racist opinions behind closed doors, or even how to use a flush toilet for that matter. Jews and Uzbeks and homosexuals are the unquestioned enemies of his culture, and despite clearly having no interaction with any of them, he takes the conflict to heart.

But Borat lacks that the willful malice and disregard for human life that the vilest racist figures have in spades. His racism even works in reverse, as he displays a deep admiration of black Americans, whom he considers to be the epitome of cool. When Borat asks people how to best defend himself against Jews, or takes on the glossy eyed horror of a recent rape victim upon learning he unknowingly fraternized with gay men, most know not what to do except smile, nod, and politely continue the conversation.

Of course, I could hardly review "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" without mentioning that the protagonist and hero is the invention of Sacha Baron Cohen, a British Jew. It’s a testament to Cohen skill and perhaps even restraint (a word that can be applied to little else in the film) that he can not only make Borat look likeable, but even sympathetic.

Borat’s thoughts on race-relations alone are enough to make him stick out like a sore KKK wizard, but his offensiveness is applied to most other touchy aspects of life. His concept of American culture comes primarily from 1980’s TV shows and movies, filtered through his own lens that assumes all civilized people must despise Jews, consider women to be beneath men and horses, and cage the mentally disabled.

The film is a surreally side-splitting amalgam of documentary and reality TV. Cohen interacts with real people as Borat, which leads to situations so outrageous and uncomfortable they have to be seen to be believed. Some sequences are clearly staged, like a tour of Borat’s village and interactions with his obese producer Azamat (Ken Vavitian).

Others are "real", such as Borat attempting to purchase a nonexistent vehicle part that will attract women or telling a rodeo he hopes that "Premier" George W. Bush will drink the blood of every Iraqi. A few demonstrate Cohen and director Larry Charles’ ability to blur the already thin line between fact and fiction, as I couldn’t tell whether or not Borat’s RV ride with drunken frat boys or interactions with some potentially unfriendly night owls were real or scripted. Either way, no significant amount of time passes without the kind of hilarious and/or shocking moment that will tempt people to spoil the film to their friends.

Whatever the case, I was pleasantly surprised at how the ongoing story arch, concerning Borat’s epic quest to take Pamela Anderson’s virginity and hand in marriage (even funnier than it sounds), was consistently worked into his discourse with others. For much of the film, I was worried that the possible hilarity of the climax had created an expectation it couldn’t possibly meet. Somehow, it does manage to fulfill most of that lofty potential, even though the closing twist feels a bit forced.

The character first became known to American audiences via "Da Ali G Show" on HBO. Borat’s antics were easily the funniest of Cohen’s three characters, although they all managed to transcend the absurdity of their scenarios to be thought provoking in addition to entertaining. I’ve seen funnier comedies, but none had the ingenuity or deftness to expose so much of the ignorance and frivolity of issues ranging from from racism to politeness. "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" is a delicious treat for fans of the series, and a fitting introduction for those yet unacquainted.

In order to see the film, I had to drive to Iowa City, as 20th Century Fox executives apparently decided Midwestern viewers were too stupid to get the joke and severely scaled back the release. Despite opening on less than one fourth the screens of "The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause", it has easily dominated the box office this past weekend, practically guaranteeing that Cedar Falls/Waterloo will get the film. If I can tell you that despite the studio’s atrocious attitude that "Borat" was worth the drive, that should be a bigger endorsement than any star rating I could assign.

5 out of 5

120

My brief discussion on the election:

-Everyone I voted for lost, surprise, surprise.

-Good riddance to Senators Mike Dewine (R-OH) and Lincoln Chafee (R-RI). With Republicans like them, who needs Democrats?

That’s my basically entire election commentary, hope they don’t kick up taxes, socialize health care, and ban all entertaining guns at the first opportunity.

Here are some films I’ve seen in the past two weeks, in order of release:

The Big Heat- 4
Shadows – 3.5
Good Morning, Vietnam – 4
Clockers – 3
Smoke Signals – 3
Where the Truth Lies – 3
Just Friends – 0
The Kid & I – 3
Thank You For Smoking – 2
Hard Candy – 2.5
X-Men: The Last Stand – 3
Saw III – 1.5

119 - Mission Impossible 3 review redux

I reviewed this film back when it was released. That review can be reached here.




"Mission: Impossible III" opens on taunt, surprising note. Super-spy Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) is shackled to a chair, the barrel of a gun is pressed against his wife’s head, and Owen Davian (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) declares "I’m going to count to ten. If you don’t tell me where the Rabbit’s Foot is, I’m going to kill her." For a moment, we’re hopeful that the film, will prove to be an intense, wildly entertaining blockbuster. Instead, we get an occasionally amusing, plot-hole ridden, stupid-beyond-belief $150 million tribute to Cruise’s gargantuan ego. In comparison to the rest of the film the opening feels like part of a better screenplay accidentally got pasted on by mistake.

Oh sure, the film has its fair share of violent and spectacular scenes. Ethan and his team lovable killers find themselves spinning from a German steam and sparks factory to the Vatican to Shanghai (populated by approximately 12 Chinese people), never bothering to explain why things are happening where they are, other than that the locations look cool.

By the end, I feel as if I can see why foreigners often see Americans as gung-ho, reckless cowboys; Ethan has murdered more than a handful of Chinese nationals and delivered a WMD into the hands of terrorists in a harebrained attempt to rescue his goo-goo eyed piece of ass (insert wife in place of ‘piece of ass’ if appropriate). A threadbare plot concerning a super-weapon and an arms dealer justifies the explosions, as well as the kind of inter-agency back stabbing that "24" does much better (for comparison, 120 hours of "24" cost as much "Mission Impossible 3" and does everything better).

Speaking of TV shows, Tom Cruise hand-picked J.J. Abrams, creator of "Alias" and "Lost", to direct "Mission: Impossible III". He may be a first time feature director, but his skills may be a moot point, as the film clearly belongs to Cruise. I’m reminded of how Stanley Kubrick supposedly referred to himself as hired help for Kirk Douglas when talking about "Spartacus". Cruise features in virtually every scene, the camera never forgetting to frame him in macho, heroic close-up. It’s the kind of invulnerable killing machine that we’d all like to pretend we are, except that Cruise has the money and star power to put the fantasy on screen.

Cruise’s performance is a double-edged sword. He looks old enough to be experienced and yet still in shape for his hair-raising work. But boyish charm, one of his trademarks, feels awkward on a 43-year-old man. I’d have liked to see more of Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s sadistic villain. If Hoffman can believably go from Truman Capote to a vicious arms dealer, he can play anything, but unfortunately his screen time doesn’t surpass twenty minutes. The supporting cast fill their banal roles as well as they can; support Ethan, yell at Ethan, shoot at Ethan, congratulate Ethan for outrageous attacks on the world’s most populous sovereign state, etc.



The plot hinges on a mysterious WMD called the Rabbit’s Foot. An English technician theorizes the weapon may be a near-magical device that contains the destructive power to wipe out everything from children to ice cream parlors, which suggests that the British haven’t heard the news about nuclear weapons yet. The Rabbit’s Foot is clearly a MacGuffin, a term used to describe plot devices that keeps the story in motion, but otherwise has little to nothing to do with it. But by the same measure, the same can be said of Julia, Ethan’s wife. The film quickly establishes Julia as a hopelessly cute but bland love interest, her primary purpose being to smile when safe, sob fearfully when threatened, and consummate her marriage in the medical supply room of a hospital.

Why not expand on their relationship? When they marry, Julia believes Ethan to be a Department of Transportation drone, which says little for both of them. She doesn’t pay enough attention to her fiancée, and he has no problem concealing crucial details of his life from her, details that eventually get her kidnapped and nearly killed. Instead of portraying their relationship as childishly affectionate, why not be provocative and seriously explore the pitfalls of Ethan’s double life? Should we believe that his spouse is important enough to commit treason for, but not enough to inform her he has a job that could result in the torture, mutilation, and death of them both?

In a brief scene, Ethan’s partners insist that normal relationships are impossible for men such as them, and discuss how it affects their edgy, often solitary existence. I’d gladly trade a few $30 million action sequences for a couple more scenes like that discussion.

2 out of 5