The Long Walk

Director: Francis Lawrence
Starring: Cooper Hoffman, David Jonsson, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer, Ben Wang, Jordan Gonzalez, Joshua Odjick, Mark Hamill, Roman Griffin Davis, Judy Greer, Josh Hamilton
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

After Stephen King published the dystopian horror novel The Long Walk in 1979 under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman, various attempts have been made over the decades to greenlight a film adaptation. The first book he wrote as a freshman at the University of Maine, it's one of his very best, drawing the attention of acclaimed directors like George A. Romero and Frank Darabont, both of whom showed interest in bringing it to the big screen. But that didn't pan out, temporarily depriving audiences of a film with as much cinematic potential as the author's most revered outings. 

Now that director Francis Lawrence's vision is finally here, King can appreciate he may have dodged a bullet if that hypothetical 80's or 90's version had fallen in the wrong hands. It might even be the rare case  of a project being been blessed by its lengthy stay in development hell, allowing enough time for the right filmmaker and cast to emerge for a story that's only grown in resonance. For a while, the film goes on a streak where it appears ready to breathe the same rarefied air as The Shawshank Redemption, Stand By Me, Misery, The Shining and The Mist. At least until a familiar feeling emerges in the pit of your stomach toward the end, which is where most King movies soar or fall. And considering what's at stake in this story, that pressure seems even more palpable.    

In an alternate 20th century the United States is ruled by a totalitarian military regime as it wrestles with the consequences of an economic depression following the war. As a response, the government has established a televised annual event called "The Long Walk," where fifty teenage boys are randomly selected from each state to continuously walk for days while maintaining a pace of three miles per hour. Failure to do so after three warnings results in death, with the winner earning a large cash prize and their chosen wish. Marketed as a contest to inspire patriotism and hope, the regime's actual motivations are  more nefarious, even as boys far and wide sign up for a chance to rescue themselves and their families from poverty. 

One of those competitors is Maine's Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman), whose mother Ginny (Judy Greer) tearfully begs him to back out. He doesn't, instead arriving at the starting line to meet his opponents, who include charismatic optimist Pete McVries (David Jonsson), philosophical Billy Stebbins (Garrett Wareing), kindhearted motormouth Hank Olson (Ben Wang), unhinged bully Gary Barkovich (Charlie Plummer), good natured Art Baker (Tut Nyuot), aspiring novelist Richard Harkness (Jordan Gonzalez) and rebellious Collie Parker (Joshua Odjick). 

Before embarking on this grueling hundreds mile journey, the teens are assigned numbers and followed by arm guards ready to put bullets in anyone who can't keep pace. They'll bond and fight, finding themselves in the increasingly natural position of forming friendships with those they're battling to the death. Only given water and rations, injuries, exhaustion and sleep deprivation takes their toll until a sole survivor remains. Overseeing it all is the ominous, gravely voiced Major (Mark Hamill), who yells motivational platitudes at them throughout, preparing to personally execute the runner-up and declare a winner at the finish line. 

Laying out its high concept in the opening minutes, unanswered questions eventually become clearer over the course of this grueling walk. In fact, we see little outside the actual race other than Ray's mom begrudgingly sending him off and a spattering of curious roadside bystanders watching the ordeal, whether that's kids on bicycles or elderly couples on their porches. But there's even a haunting quality to those moments, as silent stares of spectators offer another glimpse of the oppressive world these boys are fighting to escape. All those scenes are beautifully shot by cinematographer Jo Willems while The Lumineers' Jeremiah Fraites' emotionally affecting score only underlines the weight of their plight. 

While taking place in an alternate near-past, the cars and setting that invoke a Depression-era feel, despite King's story being widely understood as a metaphor for the Vietnam draft. And you definitely sense that, with teens "volunteering" for a deadly conflict at the behest of a government sending them to their graves. Most everything we learn about this totalitarian society comes via flashbacks of Ray, his mom and late father (Josh Hamilton), but it's enough, retaining a degree of mystery for the marathon's many reveals. Some of those tie directly to Ray's reasons for signing up which, aside from the ending, might mark the biggest distinction between the novel and writer JT Mollner's script. 

Between cramping, hallucinations, broken limbs and defecation breaks at gunpoint, the trek becomes progressively more brutal with each mile as a myriad of bleak, unsettling scenarios play out. If at first you doubt a film comprised entirely of walking and talking can produce the necessary momentum, Lawrence and Mollner prove those suspicions wrong, especially when speculation increases over who's next to go and how. But with contestants dropping like flies, it's ultimately the touching friendship between Ray and McVries that powers this plot, as two strangers from seemingly different worlds pull each other through, realizing they share more in common than either assumed. 

Hoffman and Jonsson's performances carry the film, with the former unquestionably proving he has the chops as a lead, with his desperate, contemplative turn as Ray hitting twice as hard upon us realizing the key similarity between actor and character. As McVries, the magnetic Jonsson casts a commanding presence, alternating between fear and bravado at the drop of a hat. A manic Charlie Plummer also delivers as the race's resident sociopath, while an always reliable Judy Greer impresses in her brief but powerful role. And by putting a villainously cartoonish spin on his carnival barking Major, Hamill forces us to see this omnipresent character through the same lens as these participants.

Endings are always a bone of contention in King's universe, whether they're his or a screenwriter tasked with stepping on the legendary author's toes. So if there's a complaint about the closing minutes, it's in a lack spectacle, opting not to pull back the curtain and show families gathered around the TV or crowds flooding the streets to root for their favorite. Instead, we get a succession of clever twists that capture the ambiguity of King's final pages, even if details differ. 

There are issues with both conclusions, but also a common denominator that has us questioning what we can take at face value. Dark, violent and disturbing, The Long Walk has virtually nothing in common with The Hunger Games aside from the same director. More closely resembling They Shoot Horse, Don't They? or Battle Royale, this succeeds by being exactly about what it claims, with every minute taking place on a desolate, endless stretch of rural road paved with the worst intentions.                                                                                 

Halloween Kills

Director: David Gordon Green
Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, James Jude Courtney, Judy Greer, Andi Matichak, Will Patton, Anthony Michael Hall, Dylan Arnold, Thomas Mann, Charles Cyphers, Kyle Richards, Nancy Stephens, Omar Dorsey, Jim Cummings, Scott MacArthur, Michael McDonald
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R 

**The Following 'Halloween Kills' Review Contains Some Plot Spoilers**

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Even by Halloween franchise standards, David Gordon Green's sequel to his well-received 2018 reboot is insane in ways both thrilling and infuriating. If his initial installment took great pains to move as far away from the series' mythology as possible, retconning everything that came after John Carpenter's 1978 original, Halloween Kills does a complete 180, agressively engaging in call backs and fan service to the point that it nearly feels like a horror convention reunion. It even features one of sorts, as a major plot point revolves around the gathering of legacy survivors and flashbacks that frame past events in a new context. It's also overflowing with about as many characters as a horror film can contain, opening up its world while shifting some focus away from the three main heroines.

With Blumhouse delivering something that feels more akin to a Friday The 13th installment, complete with a Rob Zombie-like zest for brutality and gore, the envelope's pushed in terms of how much enjoyment that can be creatively derived from within the confines of this property, or even the genre itself. We've been kidding ourselves for a while now with Halloween as it's continued to ride the goodwill of a 40-year-old classic, all while fans cling to potentially getting a new film worthy of sharing its title with the groundbreaking original. 

2018 gave us the return of Jamie Lee Curtis to her most famous role and a respectable writing and directing team at the helm promising a return to basics. Bolstered by Carpenter's credit as a producer, that film may have been a minor triumph, but a certain ceiling and stigma have remained from the sequel silliness endured by fans through the years. As messy as it is, Halloween Kills doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, never dragging despite a number of elements that could have been excised without consequence. But no matter where this lands in the rankings, it still strangely fits in with the rest, while also managing to stand on its own as a major outlier.  

Immediately following the events that occurred on Halloween night, 2018, a seriously injured Laurie Strode (Curtis), her daughter Karen (Judy Greer) and grandaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) rush to Haddonfield Memorial Hospital as the Strode residence burns to the ground with Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney) still trapped in the basement. When the firefighters arrive, they're systematically picked off one-by-one by the The Shape, who survived the blaze and now has his sights set on terrorizing Haddonfield before going "home" once again. Meanwhile, Allyson's ex-boyfriend Cameron (Dylan Arnold) discovers deputy Frank Hawkins (Will Patton) bleeding and clinging to life after having been stabbed and run over by Dr. Sartain. He'll soon be joining Laurie in the ICU, even as he's still haunted by the results of an encounter he had with Michael on Halloween night 1978 that led to a fellow officer's death. 

At a local bar, another Michael survivor, Tommy Doyle (Anthony Michael Hall) has gathered with friends Marion Chambers (Nancy Stephens), Lindsey Wallace (Kyle Richards) and Cameron's dad, Lonnie Elam (Robert Longstreet) to mark the 40th anniversary of Michael's imprisonment. Unbeknownst to them, he's already returned to Haddonfield and is still on the loose, continuing his murderous rampage. After hearing the news, a determined Tommy begins organizing a mob of other furious Haddonfield townsfolk intent on capturing and killing Michael, whose body count is sure to increase as he lurks in the shadows, stalking his next victims.

Green doesn't exactly pick up where he left off, opting instead for flashbacks to previously unseen events involving a young officer Hawkins (Thomas Mann) the night of Laurie's ordeal in '78, as well as a backstory of a young, bullied Lonnie (Tristian Eggerling) and his close encounter with Michael (Airon Armstrong). This is a hard, sharp turn considering the 2018 reboot was built on the promise of a fresh start, free from the baggage that followed the original. For an opening, it's fine, aesthetically recreating the atmosphere of the late 70's Haddonfield well enough with a believable performance from Mann, but when Green breaks into the already loaded present-day action to revisit this throughout, it does become a bit much.

While those scenes work, they certainly don't simplify things, and there may be a 50/50 split among fans about being visually treated to a new scene at the Myers house that would have only otherwise existed in our imaginations. The Star Wars-like digitized audio sampling of Donald Pleasence's voice as Dr. Loomis (played by Tom Jones Jr. in the flashback), comes off far better than it should, only leaving the question of whether any of this is entirely neccessary. Still, it gives the picture an unusually old school start that segues into the franchise's classic pumpkin title sequence, complete with John Carpenter, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies' hypnotizing score, arguably the most valuable element in both Green films.   

The idea of a horror sequel, or even specifically a Halloween, picking up minutes after the previous one concludes is tremendously smart because it keeps the narrative momentum going. That concept is somewhat blunted here, with not only the insertion of an opening flashback, but even a scene from 1981's Halloween II, which shouldn't technically exist if we're holding Green to his word about this trilogy. With Laurie bedridden at Haddonfield Memorial Hospital for much of the first hour, it's natural to assume we're being set up for another round of Laurie vs. Michael in the same vein and setting that closed the original sequel. Luckily, this doesn't happen, maybe partly because the script can only squeeze in so many callbacks, topping out long before that. Most of them involve the group of survivors led by a revenge-consumed Tommy. Their storyline is undoubtedly engrossing, even as it does temporarily push the three generations of Strode women to the sidelines at the hospital, grappling with the realization that they didn't finish off Michael after all.

The Boogeyman is definitely in top form, with James Jude Courtney again an imposing presence in kill scenes that carry more emotional weight than usual due his eventual victims getting more screen time and personality this go around. Green also lingers on the deaths in ways he didn't in his previous outing, both in registering their reaction to impending doom and as the life escapes their eyes in the final moments. It isn't gratuitous as much as disturbing, with the slaying of a bickering elderly couple (played by Diva Tyler and Lenny Clarke) standing out as especially bone-chilling and uncomfortable.

Costumed doctor and nurse couple Vanessa (Carmela McNeal) and Marcus (Michael Smallwood) return in larger supporting roles, providing surprisingly fun comic relief, as do new, noteworthy characters Big John (Scott MacArthur) and Little John (MADtv's great Michael McDonald) a same-sex couple currently occupying the Myers residence. Transitions between this kind of comedy and the slayings aren't as jarring or clumsily handled as they've been in previous outings, rarely resulting in the usual tonal whiplash associated with the series. There's also a great deal of suspense generated from a forest scene involving Kyle Richards' Lindsey, who, aside from Anthony Michael Hall, leaves the most lasting impression of the legacy cast.

Hall presents a jarring Tommy Doyle, who proves to be a far cry from Paul Rudd's version in Halloween 6. It turns out that kid Laurie babysat grew up to be a one-man vigilante machine with a shaved head and brutish obsession with revenge, while still remaining a decent enough guy to root for. Michael's return changes everything for him as he rallies the Haddonfield mob in what ends up being the most controversial aspect of an an already polarizing film. Green doesn't quite connect the dots with whatever socio-political statement he's trying to make about mob mentality, but when the angry residents descend upon the hospital with blood lust in their eyes, what unfolds is comparable to a car crash you can't turn away from, or more accurately, a modern day take on The Twilight Zone episode, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street." 

The hospital riot provides Judy Greer with one of her two big showcase sequences, perhaps to make up for playing a somewhat smaller role opposite Curtis last time. If Andi Matichak stepped up to emerge as one of the stronger components of H18 as Allyson, now it's Greer's turn. Matichak impresses again, especially toward the final act, but it'll be Karen's literal face-to-face with a maskless Myers that's talked about. Recognizing the value that still remains in keeping Michael's features a mystery, Green is careful to show just enough, but not too much as to demystify him. Someone had to go, and it wasn't going to be Laurie, with key lynchpin Curtis still due for her final showdown with Michael. Matichak's Allyson is the next generation, so process of elimination leaves us with the only major death possible, done in a way that cleverly calls back to the '78 original, all while ensuring there's still hell to pay in Halloween Ends.    

More than most, this effort represents the idea that we've all reached a point where it's just not important whether some masterpiece Halloween movie ever comes down the pike again. And that might not be such a bad thing. So while it's possible a much better film could have emerged without the extra post-production time afforded to overthink certain decisions, that's not likely knowing the franchise's track record. Instead, we're left to be entertained by an installment that's sure to be argued about and rewatched for some time to come. And the first since Zombie's underrated 2009 Halloween II to take some real risks, both for better and worse. It's not hard to imagine this getting a similar reappraisal down the line, as its flaws possibly iron out with future viewings.  

Green getting a jump on some of these characters and ideas in 2018 probably would have led to a smoother, less busy result, but the craziness is a big part of its charm. That can't always be said for a lot of these. Some of the worst entries manage to be dull and poorly made, two categories under which Halloween Kills definitely wouldn't fall. While frequently overindulging, at least Green isn't phoning it in, clearly laying the groundwork for what's next. Everything points toward a more streamlined finale that's sure to focus almost entirely on Laurie and Michael. But this sure took us on a wild ride to get there.    

Halloween (2018)

Director: David Gordon Green
Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, Judy Greer, Andi Matichak, James Jude Courtney, Will Patton, Virginia Gardner, Haluk Bilginer, Toby Huss, Jefferson Hall, Rhian Rees, Dylan Arnold, Miles Robbins, Drew Scheid, Jibrail Nantambu
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Of all the horror sequels, prequels and reboots, none have beaten into the ground quite like Halloween. Michael Myers' origin story has been told and retold so many times that you have to wonder how even the hardest of hardcore fans haven't reached the point of complete exhaustion. How many times can The Shape escape from the mental hospital and wreck havoc on Haddonfield? Or come back "home" to the Strode house? Even with this newest Blumhouse-produced incarnation of the property directed by David Gordon Green and co-writtten by Danny McBride arriving in time for the original's 40th anniversary and being co-produced and endorsed by John Carpenter himself, its biggest hand was already been played. Jamie Lee Curtis reprised her legendary role of Laurie Strode in 1998's underwhelming Halloween: H20 with mixed results, mostly due to the lack of any long-term vision for the character.

Now accompanying Curtis' return is a pesky continuity problem that Green and McBride believe they can solve. Just retcon the whole thing. Or at least every film that followed the 1978 original, which remains highly regarded enough to make this experiment worth a try. Gone are all the returns of Myers, who we now learn has been confined to a mental hospital for the past four decades following his October 31st killing spree. Wiped away with it are any revelations that came in subsequent installments, including the big one that Laurie is Michael's sister.

While all of this sounds fine and good on paper and it's tough to argue few better options exist, it sure is asking a lot from fans. Or is it? Aside from the Myers-less, but underrated Halloween III: Season of the Witch and Rob Zombie's polarizing Halloween II, none of the previous entries have ever truly attempted something different. By committing to this crazy idea, Green's film forces the series to go a little out of its comfort zone, resulting in one of the more skillfully made outings since Carpenter's classic. Given the talent involved, that isn't much of a surprise. even if it comes at a cost. Whatever disappointment comes from the realization that it still, for better or worse, feels like a Halloween movie, stopping short of transcending the genre to become something more. You could argue that would always be too tall an order, but this sequel does feel as steeped in the year it was made as the original likely did in 1978.

With the "#MeToo" movement permeating through its female-driven empowerment narrative, it does away with away attempts to "understand" Michael Myers, even going so far as to mock the current criminal psychology boom surrounding serial killers. A welcome return to Carpenter's initial idea of the faceless, random form of evil known as the "Boogeyman," this had to be one of the toughest installments to plan. The results aren't always entirely successful, but Green deserve credit for not only pulling this off, but crafting a worthy successor that's as thrilling to discuss and dissect as it is to watch.

The 40 years since towering, emotionless killer Michael Myers terrorized Haddonfield on Halloween night haven't been kind to Laurie Strode (Curtis). Psychologically traumatized by his attack, the now sixty-something survivalist is twice divorced and estranged from her adult daughter, Karen (Judy Greer) who was removed from Laurie's care years ago when the state determined her overprotective, vigilante parenting methods crossed a line. Living in an isolated compound decked out with heavy artillery and security, she drinks a lot and obsessively prepares for Michael's potential return, waiting for the moment she can finally get her revenge.

Laurie's only lifeline is Karen's teen daughter Allyson (Andi Matichak), who, despite her mom's desire to shut the door in any relationship with Laurie, feels a connection to her grandmother. But the past returns in a big way when true-crime podcasters, Aaron Korey (Jefferson Hall) and Dana Haines (Rhian Rees) arrive at Warren County Smith's Grove's Sanitarium to visit Michael before he's transferred to a new facility while under the care of his long-time psychiatrist, Dr. Ranbir Sartain (Haluk Bilginer). Seeing dollar signs in both exploiting and humanizing Michael, they plan to stage a reunion between him and Laurie under the guise of giving her "closure."  Laurie wants none of it, but may not have a choice when his transport bus crashes and he comes home. This time she's ready, but all three generations of Strode women will have to band together in order to defeat the embodiment of pure evil.

Aside from the spectacular opening title sequence that pays direct homage to the '78 original, but with a clever twist, the first half-hour of Green's picture is its weakest. This isn't to say it fails or even takes too long to get going, but rather that our entry point hinges on three unlikable characters we don't know and aren't particularly invested in. So even while the idea of introducing true-crime podcasters trying to drum up publicity and sympathy for Myers' cause is a timely one, something still feels off about the execution. Early on, we sniff out their only purpose in the story: Allowing Michael to reclaim his mask.

Similar claims can be leveled at the character of Dr. Sartain, who could easily be labeled as a poor man's Dr. Loomis until the full complexity of his motivations come into play. And even then, the unflattering comparisons to Loomis (whom he "studied" under) are inescapable. But at least leading off with the Sanitarium spares us enduring yet another "It's Halloween in Haddonfield. Will he show up?" opening. It also provides us the most visually arresting image of the entire film,a wide shot of the hospital's courtyard with patients lined up on what looks like a giant chess board, with a maskless Myers' back turned to his nervously approaching visitors. It works on many levels, including the obvious one, that these three are really only pawns in his game, one in which he'll soon be claiming new victims. 

Myers has had a lot of returns home to Haddonfield throughout the illustrious history of this franchise, but Green makes a number of different choices that stand out, resulting in the one of the stronger stretches of both physical and psychological suspense we've seen since the series' inception. While the killing starts early, Green recognizes, with one or two big exceptions, the need to not show us everything, leaving at least a little to the imagination. It's pretty much the opposite of Rob Zombie's gorefest, which worked to a certain point for the type of movie he made, for all the good and terrible that entails. But Green's more of a chameleon who can slip in and out of different styles and is capable of hiding a few tricks up his sleeve. The film's middle portion is a showcase for that, as he not only manages to hide some of the more tired genre tropes with visually interesting choices, but also slides in a few winks and nods for fans that make sense for this story without excluding more casual viewers.

The screenplay succeeds in getting back in touch with Michael as this random, undiscriminating killer, which seems to have fallen by the wayside in recent installments. It feels like Halloween night with the streets lined with kids everywhere as Myers just aimlessly walks on the streets and sidewalks and through the crowds scoping out houses. While more establishing shots of Haddonfield would have helped in establishing a greater sense of time and location (something the original had in spades), the newest generation of supporting characters are given suprisingly adequate development, unburdened with carrying the entire film on their shoulders like so many other unsuccessful entries horror entries. This time, most of the heavy-lifting is done by Curtis, who we know can handle it, and does.

Treating the assault she suffered 40 years ago at the hands of The Shape with the gravity and seriousness it deserves, Curtis is afforded the opportunity to add a dimension of reality to the character she originated that some of the goofier sequels prevented. H20 attempted this approach, but it's refined here. The hunted becomes the hunter, as years of buried trauma create this alcoholic, PTSD-suffering survivalist whose obsession with revenge ruins whatever relationship she could have with her own daughter.

Judy Greer's Karen has gone in the opposite direction, believing her mom to be a drunken kook, compartmentalizing her own childhood and choosing to instead see the world as all sunshine and rainbows. We know what will eventually occur to destroy that illusion, but it's hard not thinking this continues the streak of movies underutilizing Greer, with a role that exists primarily as a bridge for Laurie passing the torch to granddaughter Alysson. Still, it was smart making Curtis again the franchise's centerpiece and having her family's legacy be the orbit around which the story revolves. Nor does it hurt that the film inadvertantly walked into a cultural moment involving attack victims and survivors.        

In her first big screen role, Andi Matichak isn't yet called upon to be the "new Laurie" as Scout Taylor-Compton was in Zombie's reimagining, but acquits herself well as the smart, head-strong Allyson. She's caught in the middle of the family feud between her mom and grandmother and a sub-plot involving boyfriend Cameron (Dylan Arnold) that seems to come and go, despite his faint ties to the original film. Of course, she'll eventually come face-to-face with Michael and while Matichak's role isn't huge, she definitely leaves her mark, instilling some optimism in those wondering if she's capable of taking the wheel of the inevitable sequel(s). But it's the interactions with her friends that provide more of the film's meta social commentary, including a take on why anyone should still care about Michael Myers' crimes in a day and age where mass killings seem to occur every other minute.

Despite her biggest jump scare being spoiled by the trailer, Virginia Gardner also manages to leave a lasting impression as babysitter Vicky, briefly bringing charisma and personality to the most thankless of horror movie characters. Her verbal interplay with young Julian (Jibrail Nantambu), whom she watches, is such a highlight you wish there was more. But we're quickly brought back down to Earth and reminded that, yes, we're still just going through the motions of a requisite Halloween entry where characters exist solely to bolster the kill count or advance plot. Adult characters are even more disposable, treated as an afterthought with little or no development at all.Will Patton's Sheriff Hawkins has a very tangetial connection to the '78 killings that seems tossed in, while the great Toby Huss does what he can with the limited role of Karen's husband and Allyson's father, Ray.

Between nameless cops and bystanders, podcasters and a Dr. Loomis stand-in, there are a lot of superfulous characters whose chief narrative purpose is to get Michael to Laurie's safe house for the eventual showdown. But even with more plot than seemingly necessary, we're treated to some real flashes of brilliance along the way, including a suspenseful kill sequence involving motion sensors that's heightened by John Carpenter, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies' new score. Remaining faithful to the original while adding guitar flourishes that bring it into the modern era, this is the best Halloween's ever sounded. Directors scoring their own films was pretty rare in '78 so having Carpenter return to the studio alongside his two collaborators, not only feels and sounds like the right choice, but utilizes him for more than just his usual story or producing credit. And his work couldn't have turned out better, offering a welcome twist on one of cinema's most famous musical compositions.

Other call-backs are less obvious, like P.J. Soles' cameo as a teacher or the original Michael, Nick Castle, making an extremely brief apperance behind a mask now being occupied by actor/stuntman James Jude Courtney, who does Myers' justice in both movement and mannerisms. Every new film seems to spark a discussion about the mask, and this one looks good enough, appropriately reflecting the decades of age and wear you'd likely anticipate. If there's any problem with it it's that it bares almost too close a resemblance to Zombie's grungy version.

It's a testament to just how much this franchise has been through that even on the heels of a financially and creatively fulfilling sequel like this, it's still somewhat difficult to get excited for more. Jamie Lee Curtis returned as Laurie and faced off with Michael. Now what? The sequels following H20 all dealt with this conundrum and we've even seen the problem manifest itself in a non-horror capacity in the newest Star Wars series. It's tough finding that balance between the old and the new. Pleasing original fans while still attracting newer ones. No matter how many times you emphasize a fresh start they'll always be that temptation to lean back into the past, "come home" so to speak. It's a tricky balance that will only get trickier with each succeeding installment.

Halloween 2018 comes from a strange place in wanting to completely abandon and even occasionally send-up the films that came before, while remaining slavishly devoted to them at the same time, even going as far as to pay homage to certain scenes, story points and characters. In so far as translating those admittedly mixed signals in the screen, Green does as good a job as any current director could. Considering a trip back to Crystal Lake or even Elm Street would seem to hold more appeal and possibilities than yet another entry into this series, it all worked out. By reminding us of everything we've loved and loathed about the series, it pushes us forward us into the next chapter. And whatever that is, there's little doubt Michael Myers' legacy will remain at the center of it.

Jurassic World

Director: Colin Trevorrow
Starring: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Vincent D'Onofrio, Nick Robinson, Ty Simpkins, B.D. Wong, Irrfan Khan, Jake Johnson, Lauren Lapkus, Judy Greer, Katie McGrath 
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It always seemed the one lost opportunity in Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park trilogy was actually setting the action in a fully functioning amusement park filled with people. You'd think adding that element of unpredictable danger to the plot could only heighten the stakes and danger. The entire amusement park concept has been gestating so long that we figured Spielberg must have been saving it for a sequel. Then 15 years passed. And now after sitting in development hell for almost two decades the franchise is resurrected with Jurassic World and the timing strangely seems just right for that big money storyline. Amidst an overcrowded field full of unnecessary remakes, reboots, sequels and prequels, this is the one that feels closest to being necessary because we never really got what we came for.

Despite unleashing a story that was a long time coming and injecting it with a meta subplot that pokes fun at the film's very existence, there were still a number of things that could have gone wrong. Poor casting, the wrong choice of director, bad GCI, a lackluster 3D conversion or an uninspired script could have easily sunk it. Instead, Safety Not Guaranteed director Colin Trevorrow delivers the type of ridiculously fun, pulse-pounding Spielberg-era thrill ride that even Spielberg himself can't seem to make anymore, or at least has chosen to move past after inspiring inferior imitations. This isn't one of them.

Twenty-two years after the horrific incident at Jurassic Park, Jurassic World is open for business and the park's operations manager, Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) wants it to make as much money as humanly possible. A corporate ice queen, she brushes the park's sordid history under the rug as she unveils her newest attraction: a genetically modified Indominus rex dinosaur sponsored by Verizon. Inconvenienced by the recent arrival of her sister's (Judy Greer) kids, Zach and Gray (Nick Robinson and Ty Simpkins) to the park, she merely dumps them on her assistant for the day as Velociraptor trainer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) is called in to evaluate the Indominus enclosure before opening. You could probably guess that what unfolds next is a crisis that makes the first three films look like child's play. It's up to Owen and Claire to contain it before lives in the park are lost, including their own.         

There's an early scene where a control room character played by Jake Johnson is showing off the vintage Jurassic Park shirt he won on e-bay, lamenting when the park used to be all about experiencing the wonder of a dinosaur. Now everything has to be bigger and more over-the-top. It's all about the money. While obviously referring to the Indominus attraction, he may as well have been talking about movies, particularly the one we're watching. But Jurassic World fully acknowledging forthcoming criticisms and actively poking fun at itself doesn't make it a good movie, nor should it. What does is the excitement generated on screen, since we're really there to see the dinosaurs wreck havoc.

Trevorrow wastes little time introducing us to the fully functioning theme park, which looks like a Sea World and Disney World hybrid with some surprisingly cool rides and features that seem believable within the confines of the fantasy world Spielberg initially created. As fast as the pace is, there is a considerable amount of time spent building up the first full-on appearance of the Indominus, which doesn't disappoint. It's definitely not Jaws in terms of impactfully limited screen time, but by today's impatient filmmaking standards, Trevorrow's approach is practically restrained.

Much to my relief, the CGI actually looks pretty good, as far as those go, rarely distracting from the action or story. It's also filled with some clever winks and nods throughout the park that let us know this is very much a continuation of the 1993 original and the sequels may as well not exist. Thankfully, John Williams' instantly recognizable, iconic score (the best of his storied career) still does, even if you could quibble with where it lands in the film and how quickly. But at least it's there, which was one of my big worries going in.

With employees clashing over their differing philosophies for the park, it's a given that the uptight Claire and cocky Owen will be brought together by the Indominus escape as she finally learns to care about something other than her job, namely her missing nephews. Her profit-driven approach starkly contrasts with owner Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan), whose chief concerns are the enjoyment and safety of the guests. While both are seriously compromised by Claire's greed, InGen security head Vic Hoskins (Vincent D'Onofrio) is intent on militarizing the dinosaurs as government weapons, crreating an interesting Blackfish-like sub-plot about the humans' control over these creatures. This plays better than expected, with an inexplicably limping, head-tilting D'Onofrio throwing his weight around with the kind of bizarre performance only he could conjure up.

The casting is actually quite creative all-around, avoiding the same four or five names of actors and actresses who usually headline these blockbusters. Chris Pratt will soon likely be one of them, but for now we're still finding out what he can do and what's most surprising about his role is how humorless it is. More Indiana Jones than Han Solo. "Jurassic Parks and Rec" this isn't, as the former Andy Dwyer has to play it mostly straight in order to ground an already far out there plot.

If this is Pratt's Indy audition, he passes with flying colors, and despite being a longtime fan of the actor's work, he quelled most of my concerns that going this route would be a complete misuse of his talents. Instead, the action hero thing seems to suit him just fine and in his scenes opposite Howard he does manage to slide in some of the trademark sarcastic charm and charisma that got him here. He'll probably be cast in everything now, but if it has to be someone, at least it's Pratt, whose sheer likability and presence lifts this kind of material further than it would have otherwise gone.

While Pratt does exactly what's asked of him and surpasses expectations, he is still playing a one-dimensional hero opposite Bryce Dallas Howard's more intriguing character. When was the last time a money hungry, stuck-up corporate suit was the centerpiece of a summer action movie? Howard's always been consistently strong in various projects until disappearing for a while, only to now reemerge four years later in the last movie you'd expect to see her headline. And what a comeback it is, walking right up to that line of playing Claire as an unlikable bitch without ever stepping over it. As a result, the transition she makes to action heroine in the film's second half seems all the more seamless and reasonable, proving her an actress adept at rapidly shifting gears. In an effects driven project that too often relegates performers to window dressing, her performance is remembered. She's really playing two roles, each equally well.

Trevorrow was hired to do a job in which the understanding was he'd be relinquishing a lot of creative freedom. Yet within those parameters, he managed to slide his own vision in there to create something that feels like his rather than a tired retread. One can only hope that similar steps are taken when reviving other dormant franchises ripe for a reimagining or continuation of some kind. This is exactly the story that needed to be told in order to both honor the Spielberg film and move on from it. The final half hour featuring an epic dinosaur confrontation can compete in both scale and thrills with anything from the original. Rarely overstaying its welcome at a brisk two hours, it also features one of the few uses of 3D in recent years that at least seems defensible given the nature of the plot.           

It's funny how some critics have taken Jurassic World to task, making me wonder exactly what they expected or how it could have possibly been improved. It's everything a Summer blockbuster should be and a little more, which may represent the true root of their problem. For all the talk of the film's theme park being nothing more than a cash grab, the movie gets its job done by mocking exactly that, exploiting our fears that the wonder from the original can't be recaptured. The bigger question is why we'd want it to, especially when this sequel is such a worthy successor in its own right.               

Men, Women and Children

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Rosemarie DeWitt, Jennifer Garner, Judy Greer, Dean Norris, Adam Sandler, Ansel Elgort,
Kaitlyn Dever, J.K. Simmons, Dennis Haysbert, Olivia Crocicchia, Elena Kampouris, Travis Tope, Emma Thompson (voice)
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating:  R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Throughout the 1970's, the ABC network aired The After School Special, a series of made-for-TV movies aimed at teens that tackled controversial social issues of the time. If such a special came out today, exploring the dangers of social media and technology, and you mixed it in a blender with American Beauty, the result would sort of strangely resemble Jason Reitman's Men, Women and Children. But while those comparisons seem to set the stage for the latest in a long list of pans for one of the worst received movies of last year, it's actually kind of a compliment. After all, both won awards and critical acclaim for good reason. This sure didn't, but it's certainly more intriguing than expected, and hardly the huge abomination the media trumpeted it as.

Reitman may not achieve everything he sets out to, inevitably falling short of its brilliant teaser poster's promise, but it mostly works. For better or worse, I was gripped by each of the stories that comprise the narrative and impressed by a handful of actors playing against type. The big surprise was that it was a bit more restrained than expected given a subject matter that deals less with the dangers of the digital age, but how people are really the problem.

After a cosmic framing device speculating on humans' place in the universe (sardonically narrated by Emma Thompson), we crash down to Earth where Don (Adam Sandler) is a depressed, sexually frustrated husband stuck in a passionless marriage to an equally bored Helen (Rosemarie DeWitt). She spends her free time at work creating an Ashley Madison profile while he's building up the courage to seek out an escort service and sneaking into his teen son Chris' (Travis Tope) room to view online pornography.

So extreme is Chris' taste in porn that it's actually preventing him from being aroused by anything or anyone else, including would-be girlfriend and aspiring celebrity, Hannah (Olivia Crocicchia). Her vanity proves to be a contagiously destructive influence on younger classmate, Allison (a shockingly good Elena Kampouris), a formerly overweight girl starving herself to gain the attention of an older "bad boy" who wouldn't give her the time of day.

Meanwhile, Hannah's mom Joan (Judy Greer), a former actress, is maintaining her daughter's website, taking and posting inappropriate photos of her for paying subscribers in a desperate attempt to boost her profile. Joan forms a bond with single dad, Kent (Dean Norris) over their mutual dislike of the neighborhood's cyber-watchdog mom, Patricia (Jennifer Garner), whose constant monitoring of daughter Brandy's (Kaitlyn Dever) online and cell phone activity is preventing the teen from having anything resembling a social life.

At school, Brandy finds a kindred spirit in Kent's son, the similarly depressed and introspective Tim (Ansel Elgort), who suddenly quit the football team and is addicted to an online role-playing video game. They start secretly seeing each other in what ends up being the golden ticket storyline, easily doing the best job at conveying the film's themes of loneliness and isolation amidst a world that's more technologically connected than ever. 

Okay, so when described like this, the whole thing does seem a little ridiculous. But it isn't strung together by contrivances or coincidences, as is often the case when dealing with intersecting storylines within a single film. Nothing happens here that's crazy to accept and it plays more like a collection of character sketches. Of course, some are better than others. And as uninteresting as it would seem spending two hours watching strangers text and stare at their screens, this presents that idea more tolerably than similar films exploring the subject, or even movies of other genres with characters electronically plugged in. At least Reitman can provide the reasoning that he's showing exactly what his film is about through their actions.

It's almost painful to reveal that the weakest thread is Sandler's and DeWitt's, if only because the last thing Sandler needs is anyone discouraging him for stepping out of his comfort zone and exploring his dramatic side. Here he proves again just how subtle and effective a performer he is when out of goofball mode. Unfortunately, it's in a typical unsatisfied spouses storyline, as these two downers sulk through their extra-marital affairs. This, along with their son's impotence issues (which isn't given as much time), is the weakest segment, culminating in a resolution that's very matter of fact. Those complaining this film hits audiences over the head with its themes should re-watch this story arc as its restraint is more likely to induce a nap.

The pairing of Dean Norris and Judy Greer is a highlight, with both are cast wildly against type. Norris' Kent is nervous and underconfident in the wake of his wife leaving their family while Greer plays the stage mom from hell, living vicariously through her daughter until a harsh dose of reality knocks her cold. It's an especially big jump for Norris, who's very far removed from Breaking Bad's macho, authoritative Hank Schrader as fans should be surprised just how large his supporting role is and what he does with it.

Tim having this sudden epiphany and quitting the football team because he's miserable for reasons having nothing to do with football just might be the most realistic event in the film. That's just exactly the kind of thing an angry, depressed teen would do and it feels completely earned, as does most of the storyline involving him and Brandy's secret, forbidden relationship. Touching and truthful to a fault, you have to wonder how good a film this could have been on its own, with Elgort and Dever proving why they're on the top of everyone's list of young actors to watch.

Elgort continues his streak of straddling the line between likable jock and sensitive introvert, adding depth to what could have been a superficially drawn teen caricature, while Dever conveys this world of hurt and shame on her face without muttering a word. And with Jennifer Garner's psychotically overprotective parent watching her every move, that's understandable. Would anyone go to the extreme lengths she does to shield her daughter from social media? You wonder why she even lets her daughter have a phone or computer considering all the work she must put in monitoring it.

The most interesting takeaway is that if this took place during another era, we'd still have this issue. It's the technology that's allowing us to hurt each other faster and more impersonally, as a phone or mobile device in the hands of these characters may as well be a pipe bomb. Reitman's multi-narrative approach toward presenting modern technology as gasoline on a fire is a good one, even as many didn't care for how he went about making that point or thought maybe he just shouldn't have said anything at all. As someone who's no fan of his pitiful previous effort, the belabored Labor Day, and agrees he's slipped recently, there's still no denying pitchforks were undeservedly out for this one before it was even released.

Chalk it up to low expectations or this falling firmly within the suburban drama genre I tend to heavily favor, but Reitman deserves credit for at least trying something different and achieving passable results, thanks mostly to the performances. Years down the line, when the technology becomes dated and the film's an artifact, it remains to be seen whether this effort provides any insight on human behavior. It's a movie very much of its time. Of course, that time happens to be now and the characters inhabiting it are irritatingly and uncomfortably recognizable.
        

Carrie (2013)

Director: Kimberly Peirce
Starring: Chloe Grace Moretz, Julianne Moore, Gabriella Wilde, Ansel Elgort, Alex Russell, Portia Doubleday, Judy Greer
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Let's just get it out of the way now: Yes, Chloe Moretz is too pretty to play Carrie White, the role originated by Sissy Spacek in the 1976 Brian DePalma film. It's a statement you've heard and read a lot from everyone leading up to release of a remake most would consider pointless anyway. But whether or not it's actually pointless is up to the filmmaker remaking it, and sometimes that's not even true as they're often just following the marching orders of the studio. While we'll never know for sure, that seems to be what happened with director Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don't Cry, Stop-Loss), who's as good a choice as any to make this work. And there are some moments when it almost does, in spite of all the obstacles put in front of her.

The question of whether Carrie has to have a certain look in order for Stephen King's story play believably on screen is a good one since the character's supposed to be an outcast on every level. While Spacek would never be considered "ugly" by anyone's standards, she did have an unconventional appearance that made her stand out from the pack, allowing the narrative of a shy, creepy misfit and social outcast to take flight in a way it wouldn't if another, more conventional "movie star" were cast. It's a case where looks matter. The same description even applies (to a lesser degree) to Angela Bettis in 2002 TV remake. Because the last thing Moretz can be described as is "unconventional," she's already at a deficit before the cameras start rolling. No one's denying her talent and despite being miscast she does a commendable job under thankless circumstances. Unfortunately, she just has to work harder to do it.

Shy outcast Carrie White (Moretz) is tormented by her classmates at Ewen High School, while at home she's emotionally bullied by her borderline psychotic mother Margaret (Julianne Moore), whose religious fanaticism prevents her daughter from leading the life of a normal teen. But at school Carrie finds a confidante and mentor in gym teacher Miss Desjardin (Judy Greer), who seems determined to punish the offenders, most notably popular ringleader Chris Hargensen (Portia Doubleday). Also feeling sympathy is classmate Sue Snell (Gabriella Wilde) whose guilt over joining in the teasing leads her to urge boyfriend Tommy Ross (Ansel Elgort) to take Carrie to the prom. Needless to say the invitation doesn't go over well with mother Margaret, whose daughter is now just starting to realize her telekinetic powers. And that means trouble for everyone.

What's most bothersome about this reimagining is how it almost seems to draw attention to the miscasting by overcompensating, both with Peirce's direction of the actress and some of the goofy creative choices early on. Exaggerated mannerisms and costuming choices are used to accentuate the fact Carrie is a weirdo since that's really the only viable option. She mumbles, she slumps, she walks with her arms folded. All of this screamed acting with a capital "A" to me and altogether doesn't seem like the wisest route to take, but perhaps predestined considering the casting.

Moore's take on Margaret is campy to say the least, chomping on every scene in a performance that feels like an audition reel for Mommie Dearest. The only good thing is that it's clear early on the tonal direction they were going with this and the performance works as that. Whether it's the direction they should have gone with the material is another argument altogether, but unless memory fails, the original didn't feel quite this over-the-top and silly in its first half. Carrie's discovery of her "powers" also isn't handled as well, making the original seem like a telekinesis documentary in comparison. The presentation seems off, as if the screenwriters saw one too many episodes of Heroes, as opposed to attempting to organically incorporate it into the story.            

A web video on a smartphone and some texting represents the script's stabs at contemporizing King's first novel, but given how much of a timely, hot-button topic school and cyber-bullying has become, I expected a little more. But maybe it's for the best that they didn't at the risk of it feeling like just another teen horror movie, which it kind of already does. But the scenes involving Carrie's abuse at school are some of the strongest, especially that infamous shower scene with her cluelessly experiencing her first period as classmates ridicule her. One would guess this is primarily what earned the film its "R" rating, although you can't help but think the end product still strangely feels like a "PG-13."

The two strongest performances unsurprisingly come from Judy Greer and Ansel Elgort. As Miss Desjardin, Greer is asked to do some pretty ridiculous things for a gym teacher and yet she's completely believable doing every single one of them. She's an actress who can just slide into any role and do anything so it's not a shock, but when her character hits and curses at students, I actually believed an administrator wouldn't even think of firing her. It's one of many instances of her impressively covering up the script's flaws.

Elgort shows signs of the talent he'd later emerge as in The Fault in Our Stars with a similar but not identical performance. He exudes a laid-back confidence and likability as Tommy, going a long way to transcend material that wants to paint him as a one-dimensional high school jock. He and Sue going out of their way to help Carrie just might the most compelling sub-plot, if only because there's legitimate doubt as to their intentions the entire time. While Gabriella Wilde comes off as a blank slate as Sue, what Portia Doubleday does with Chris is great, as the character is less a school bully this time around than a full-fledged sociopath. It's a wise decision that only enhances our sympathy for Carrie and has you anticipating the moment when Chris get hers.

When Moretz transforms from ugly duckling into beautiful swan for prom it weirdly feels like the equivalent of Rachael Leigh Cook removing her glasses in She's All That, to the point that I half-expected Sixpence None the Richer to start playing. Nonetheless, this is the point where Moretz's performance really comes alive, as she's freed to play a more realistic teen instead of sulking as a weirdo. With the exception of maybe a little too much CGI, Peirce nails the big bloodbath of a finale, which was high on the list of things she absolutely had to get right.

There were plenty of stumbles along the way, but the staging of the famous ending is an exciting recreation, even making a couple of minor changes to the action in that gym that seem creatively defensible. What isn't is the final image, which reminded me of what Tim Burton did in his disastrous Planet of the Apes remake: Take an iconic closing shot and unnecessarily tweak it while winking at the audience. This isn't as bad an offender, but you have to wonder why they made it a point to change one of the few things that should have remained untouched. And are all horror remakes now required to close with a hard rock song, regardless of whether it fits?   

Since it clearly isn't strong horror, you have to wonder if Peirce had abandoned all genre trappings in favor of a coldly realistic dramatic tragedy, this would have turned out better. Sure, it would have alienated horror audiences, but that's a demographic you could argue is dwindling in theater presence anyway. There's little doubt that approach would have made for a better film, but I'm not sure it would have been as fun to watch.  This latest King interpretation certainly doesn't rank amongst his worst, but it's a missed opportunity, eventually finds its footing in time to deliver a gripping third act. But by then, the damage is already done.There's no problem in remaking Carrie, but if they're not going to change anything besides the cast, it's perplexing just how inferior this turned out with all the talent involved.
   

The Descendants

Director: Alexander Payne
Starring: George Clooney, Shailene Woodley, Judy Greer, Beau Bridges, Matthew Lillard, Robert Forster, Nick Krause, Amara Miller 
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It's rare to see a movie as informed by its setting as Alexander Payne's The Descendants. Watching, you get the impression the story couldn't have taken place at all if it didn't take place in Hawaii. The characters wouldn't feel what they feel, do what they do and the entire mood, atmosphere and pacing would seem off. The Hawaii we're presented with here isn't one we've been made aware of before, at least in movies. The opening voiceover even let's us know that much. It's more depressing than exotic, so unlike the vacation destination we've seen on postcards that it doesn't even register as the same place. If only Hawaiian locals only went to the beach all day, rode waves and had drinks with little umbrellas in them like we we've been told they do for years. This is the first time it hasn't been depicted as pure paradise and in doing so Payne fittingly humanizes this film's setting as much his characters, showing real flaws and imperfections that somehow lead to a greater appreciation of both.

While people who live in paradise still have problems, they're hopefully not as big as the ones plaguing real estate lawyer Matt King, played by George Clooney in a dialed down performance sure to net him another Oscar nomination. With his wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie) laying in a coma after a boating accident, the wealthy lawyer has been entrusted to a large, lucrative piece of land passed down from his ancestors. With the state and his family waiting on pins and needles he must decide as sole trustee whether the family should sell to cash in or hold on to the property. Coming off the bench as the "back-up parent" he has to deal with his two daughters. 10-year-old foul-mouthed Scottie (Amara Miller) is acting out at school and at home while her angry, rebellious 17-year-old sister Alex (Shailene Woodley) returns from boarding school, giving Matt the shocking news that their mom was cheating on him.

Moving at a methodical, appropriately laid-back pace for most of its running time the story really starts finding its rhythm when the big revelation about Elizabeth's infidelity arrives. That's the turning point. From then on the story takes some twists and turns with the land sale figuring into the personal story in a way that's unanticipated without feeling forced. What's interesting is that despite being on life support in a hospital bed the entire and never even being seen in flashback the narrative forces the viewer to form strong feelings about Elizabeth as we watch those closest to her react to the news of her betrayal. It wouldn't be off base to say that the more we learn about her the less we like, to the point I could honestly say I hated her. That's a strange declaration to make when the offender in question is already laying in a coma but that feeling seems to be exactly what Payne is going for since the characters struggle with that as well. Matt is in shock, plagued by the insatiable urge to track down the man she was cheating with, a sleazy island realtor named Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard, a long way from Scream). Or rather it's assumed he's sleazy from a single fact and it's kind of funny how it seems we know everything about him before the actual introduction, or want to believe we do.

The quest to find Speer turns the movie into a road trip with Matt, Scottie, Alex and her dim-witted boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause), who shoots off wildly inappropriate comments at the worst moments. They have to contend with Matt's grumpy father-in-law Scott (Robert Forster) who blames him for his daughter's accident just as he faces increasing pressure from cousin Hugh (Beau Bridges) and his extended family about the land sale.  Anticipation builds for the family's eventual encounter with Speer, a meeting that somehow surpasses expectations. That's when things really get crazy. And I haven't given anything away. It all could have easily played like a soap opera (which it kind of is) but there's a brutal honesty and truthfulness to the scenes that keep it from going into shallow territory. It's a thin line to walk but Payne never crosses it, nor do his actors.

Sad and weary-eyed, wearing old man khakis and flowery shirts, Clooney downplays the movie star charisma he's famous for, just as he did in last year's The American. As a parent completely defeated by life, he brings a depressed vulnerability and hangdog physical presence to Matt we're not used to seeing from the actor. If it's not his best performance, it's sure way up there and will easily net him another Oscar nomination. And if he wins I can't say I'd have a problem with it. For all the jokes about his popularity and "Mr. Hollywood" persona these past few years, he's been taking on more meaningful projects and pushing himself in different directions as an actor, refusing to ever take the quick payday when he very easily could.

If Clooney does win, he can probably give cut the statue at its waist and give half to Shailene Woodley, who rises to the near impossible task of making us not only understand Alex, but see how her actions could actually be justified under the circumstances. Saddled with the film's most emotional scenes, she slowly peels the layers away to reveal Alex is far from just the spoiled brat we'd assume from her initial introduction. Equally strong and vulnerable, she gives a beyond her years performance that never tells the audience what to think or feel and seems in perfect harmony with the script. That she's only been known until now for starring in ABC Family's The Secret Life of The American Teenager, of all things, stands as proof that undiscovered talent can come from anywhere at any time, and all it takes is one performance in the right project.

Lillard's cheating Brian Speer doesn't build up as much disdain as comatose Elizabeth, at least until we meet his wife. Then viewers will want to wring his neck. That's because she's played by Judy Greer. Unarguably the most underrated, instantly recognizable actress working today, she's finally freed here from the shackles of the "best friend" in romantic comedies as she steps up to the plate in a third act dramatic role that isn't necessarily any larger than those those, but ten times more complex. It's difficult to get into without spoilers but you can argue the story doesn't fully register until Greer arrives, going toe-to-toe with Clooney and turning what could have been a cliche of the scorned wife into the character I walked away caring what happened to most. Here's hoping this part helps break her through into the leading lady ranks where she's belonged for a long time.  I'd say I wished the entire movie were about her, but it in many ways it actually is. Or rather it's about how sometimes a life situation gets so bad you're left with no choice but to let go, rather than risk the anger completely consuming and destroying you.

It's becoming increasingly difficult going into a movie knowing it's a big awards contender and hearing about Oscars even before seeing the results on screen. While the problem should be that it puts more pressure on the film and sets unreasonable expectations I instead frustratingly find that the opposite is true. These movies almost seem to have an unfair advantage from the start since it's common knowledge that the best films are usually reserved for the final two months of the year. This makes it easier for the movie but a bigger challenge for the critic who has to throw out all that other information out the window strengths and weaknesses.

The Descendants isn't perfect, but it's close. Coming from someone who thinks voiceovers often get a bad rap, I still have done without Clooney's over-explanantory narration since it just doesn't point out anything we can't see for ourselves. Also, a noble attempt to develop the Sid character doesn't seem to register like it should. This is the first film to use exclusively authentic Hawaiian music in lieu of a traditional movie score and it makes a big difference in terms of conveying mood and atmosphere, even if there's this small part of me that wanted one huge music moment. For some reason it seemed like a classic Cat Stevens song would have fit in perfectly. It's just that kind of movie.

It's still unclear how it ranks against Payne's previous efforts like Sideways, Election and About Schmidt but it already feels weightier than those and more substantial. There's something about it's style and approach that stays with you even though the story, with a few surprise exceptions, is fairly universal and basic. Given it's been 7 years since his last film, it's a credit to how skilled he is at telling human, truthful stories that the wait felt even longer than that. In a way this is my favorite type of film: an intimate writer-driven piece interested in exploring real people dealing with actual problems. It sounds like a cliche, but in the right hands it can be the most satisfying form of entertainment because it tends to stick around after you've left the theater. It's easy to see what all the fuss is about since The Descendants is the kind of intelligent adult drama that's increasingly hard to come by.
     

Elizabethtown

Director: Cameron Crowe
Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Orlando Bloom, Susan Sarandon, Judy Greer, Jessica Biel, Alec Baldwin
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: PG-13

**** (out of ****)

A couple of weeks ago I was flipping through the channels and caught this motivational speaker who said we all have a choice. We can celebrate what's wrong with the world or what's right with it. Cameron Crowe is a filmmaker who very much celebrates the former and makes no apologies for it. His glass isn't just half-full, it's completely full to the point that it's almost overflowing. Despite having written and directed one of my all-time favorite films (2000's Almost Famous) as well as some other personal favorites (Say Anything and Vanilla Sky) I was told by everyone to stay far away from Crowe's Elizabethtown because I would just be setting myself up for disappointment.

The advance buzz on this movie was terrible and those who had seen it assured me it was justified. When it was screened at the Toronto Film Festival it was met with such disdain Crowe was forced to cut 18 minutes. The trimmed theatrical version (which I'm reviewing now) fared no better with critics and audiences and I've yet to read a positive review on it from anyone, causing me to actively avoid it for over a year. Shame on me. Elizabethtown isn't just one of 2005's best movies, but a celebration of the human spirit and an unforgettable experience. It's why I love movies. It's been rare that I see critics and audiences miss the boat on a picture as much as this one. I went in expecting a chick flick but came out experiencing something far more rewarding and meaningful. What's most frightening is that it's not even close to being Crowe's best picture, as that honor still belongs to Almost Famous. It, does, however deserve a place in Crowe's canon and further confirms my belief he's one of our most interesting storytellers.

Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom) is a hotshot sneaker designer for a major billion dollar Oregon based shoe company clearly modeled after Nike. Drew is a star until he designs a sneaker called the Spasmodica, so horrible and ill-conceived (just look at the name) that it threatens to return the country to bare feet. As Drew narrates in the beginning, this is a "FIASCO," not a failure because fiascos "make other people happy it's not happening to them." In a few days it will be on the cover of every business magazine and the whole world will know. All Drew can do is wait. He enters the building to meet with C.E.O. Phil DeVoss (Alec Baldwin) and gets axed. This sequence must be seen to be believed as it doesn't go down at all like we're expecting it to and Crowe completely reverses all our expectations of how a movie firing scene is supposed to play out. He even treats us to a bizarre Alec Baldwin performance that manages to capture all the great zany weirdness he brings to his guest hosting stints on Saturday Night Live, but so rarely gets an opportunity to display in his big screen roles.

As if things weren't bad enough already, his hot girlfriend (Jessica Biel) dumps him and he returns home to his apartment to kill himself with the most inventive, but ineffective suicide contraption you'll ever see in a movie. But then the phone rings. It's his younger sister Heather (Judy Greer) telling him their father, Mitch has died of a heart attack visiting relatives and he has to come home to Elizabethtown, Kentucky to bury him. What happens over the next hour and a half is his journey.

On his plane trip to Kentucky, Drew is annoyed by a perky, ridiculously sweet and cheerful flight attendant named Claire Colburn (Kirsten Dunst) who makes it a point to draw him a map so he doesn't get lost when he gets there. The relationship that develops between Drew and Claire is tough territory to navigate if you're a director. Crowe though, knows what he's doing and the bond that develops between the two feels real and not forced like in so many other lesser films. He proves this in an all-night phone conversation scene with Claire and Drew. It's so tough to film a scene where two characters form a connection when they're in two entirely different locations. The way he films the scene using music, how he highlights their conversation and lets us know how much time is passing as they talk is brilliant. Even more impressive is that we never even notice it because we too are engulfed in the scene. This is how a real conversation between two characters like this would occur and the actors do a great job conveying the change that comes over them as they talk. It's at this moment that the movie turns the corner into something special.

Rich storytelling has become a lost art among today's directors, but nearly every scene in this film excels at it. I loved how when Drew arrived in Elizabethtown they greeted him as a returning folk hero because of the admiration they had for his dad. He doesn't know any of them, but they sure feel like they know him. I liked how time was devote to developing every single character no matter how important they were to the story. Like the little touch of Drew's cousin Jessie's heroes being Ronnie Van Zant and Abraham Lincoln and how his band almost opened for Lynyrd Skynyrd. I loved the video they showed the little kids to force them to behave and how they questioned Jessie's style of parenting. I loved how Bruce McGill (Animal House) portrays a smooth-talking family friend who once scammed Drew's dad out of a lot of money yet he's hanging around the house like he's family with a guilty look on his face. They feel like real touches and add up to a whole lot when the final credits role. Crowe even manages to get us to care about the wedding party that's staying at Drew's hotel when, in just a couple of scenes, he somehow manages to also weave them in as an integral part of the story.

When Drew's mom Hollie (Susan Sarandon) arrives, the movie takes advantage of a great opportunity to show an intergenerational culture clash between the two sides of the family over Mitch's wishes before his death. It's cremation vs. burial, but the hard feelings run deeper than that. Sarandon's performance in this role is just right. She goes through all the emotions that a woman who just lost her husband would, without overplaying any of them. Sarandon has a really difficult scene where she gives a speech at Mitch's memorial service to a roomful of relatives who despise her character. How she turns the crowd to her side and makes them laugh and cry with her could have been cringe inducing, but in Sarandon's capable hands it becomes moving. Drew's dad hardly has a scene in the movie, but because of these characters, we feel like we've know him forever.

Elizabethtown has often been compared to Zach Braff's Garden State, and it's not hard to see why. Both thematically cover the same territory with introspective twenty-somethings coming home to find themselves and both films feature memorable soundtracks. However, the comparison is unfair. It's unfair because I think this film is much better. Something always bothered me about Natalie Portman's performance in Garden State but I could never put my finger on it. Something about it seemed a little forced and out of her comfort zone. Now I realize I wish she gave the performance Kirsten Dunst gives in this movie. Here, Dunst is completely in her element like never before. She lights up the screen and she's so full of life, optimism and energy that you just can't help but love Claire. She starts out as an annoying stewardess, but then along with Drew you slowly start to realize there's something much deeper to this character and you'd believe she's capable of bringing this guy back from the emotional dead.

Orlando Bloom has the tougher job in this as the lead. He's been criticized for being too wooden and passive but that's what's called for. The whole point of the movie was to see him slowly open up to the world and wake up emotionally. Bloom couldn't have done a better job conveying that. Here's a scary thought: The role of Drew Baylor was originally supposed to go to Ashton Kutcher. Enough said.

Crowe (a former writer for Rolling Stone magazine) is often criticized for jamming all of his favorite songs into his films. So what? He's got great taste in music and is one of the few directors who understands the impact music can have in a movie. He also knows that music is the soundtrack to our lives and when we think of a memory or a moment, more often than not there's a song playing in the background (even if it's just in our heads). This soundtrack spares no expense with great stuff from Tom Petty, Elton John, Ryan Adams, My Morning Jacket and more. His wife Nancy Wilson (from Heart) supplies the score, as she does for all of his films, and as usual, the music fits the material perfectly.

The movie is based on Crowe's own trip to Kentucky after his father passed away, ironically just as his first film Say Anything hit theaters in 1989 . One of the top rules always listed for screenwriters is to not to write about personal experience. Thankfully, he doesn't follow it and should be an inspiration to anyone who ever thought about writing something autobiographical, but fears no one will care. He wears his heart on his sleeve and leaves everything up on the screen. It probably killed him to have to cut anything out of his film, but honestly the movie is fantastic as it is and 18 minutes probably wouldn't make a huge difference either way (although you never know as the uncut version of Almost Famous is far superior to the theatrical version).

The ending of the film I wouldn't dare give away. Let's just say if the first hour and fifty minutes of the film made me proud to be a moviegoer, then the last ten minutes of it made me proud to be an American. Crowe takes us on a tour through America we'll never forget, convincing us this adventure was deeper than we gave it credit for. Some will claim the ending's unrealistic. She'd never have the time or take the effort to do what she does for him. It's a testament to this story that I believed she would.