The Hits and Misses of Actor Replacement

     Occasionally it so happens that when sequels or series are made, that a character must be portrayed by an actor other than the original choice. This history of replacement has seen a diverse pattern of successes and failures, such as the following. 

Albus Dumbledore

In the grand Harry Potter series, Richard Harris owned Albus Dumbledore. Harris exuded the grace and wisdom that his character demanded, carrying off the presence and power of a regal wizard without even a half-effort. Following his death after only two movies, another actor had to be cast to take up the mantle of the memorable mentor figure. The choice was British film veteran Michael Gambon. Gambon took the character of Dumbledore in an entirely new direction, giving the Hogwarts Headmaster a personality that was trustworthy, personable, and grounded, but quirky in a manner more consistent with the books. HIT!

Clarice Starling

When Jodie Foster took the role of Clarice Starling for The Silence of the Lambs, it was hard to believe that anyone could ever fill her petite shoes after the now legendary chemistry with Anthony Hopkins. Anthony Hopkins returned for the sequel Hannibal, Jodie Foster did not. The character was portrayed by Julianne Moore instead. Julianne Moore was not Jodie Foster, but it worked in her favor not to imitate her predecessor when her scenes with Anthony Hopkins proved every bit as electrifying. HIT!

Rachel Dawes

Bruce Wayne does not have a reputation of picking particularly level-headed women as love interests, so the character of Rachel Dawes was a breath of fresh air to the Batman franchise when she debuted in Batman Begins. The character was written specifically for Katie Holmes, and when she could not reprise her role in The Dark Knight, Maggie Gyllenhaal filled in. Gyllenhaal's Rachel just didn't cut it, and the character fell flat, failing to be convincing in her most important moment. MISS!

James Bond

 On second thought I'll leave this one alone because the character has been played by so many actors and has seen its fair share of hits and misses. For the record, I maintain that Daniel Craig is a HIT.

Jack Ryan

Tom Clancy¹s classic American hero has eased in and out of action movies of the 90's like our very own James Bond, his shoes being filled by no less than three popular actors. The Hunt for Red October saw a young Alec Baldwin holding his own opposite the ever-incomparable Sean Connery. The Hunt for Red October went on to become a classic, but Alec Baldwin did not go on to become the golden boy. The next string of Jack Ryan movies were carried by action hero Harrison Ford, who brought Patriot Games, Clear and Present Danger, and other such intrigue and adrenaline flicks to the big screen. As Ford aged however, Jack Ryan's popularity began to fade and it was decided that someone younger and more popular was needed to reboot interest in Clancy's hero. Ben Affleck was cast for The Sum of All Fears and we haven't heard from Jack Ryan since.

Alec Baldwin to Harrison Ford: HIT.

Harrison Ford to Ben Affleck: MISS.

Col. Rhodes "Rhodey"

Forever doomed to be seen as Tony Stark/Iron Man's sidekick, Rhodey still has an important part to play in Tony Stark's life. While Iron Man 2 had disappointments throughout the overrated sequel, the greatest letdown was replacing Terrence Howard with Don Cheadle. Don Cheadle is a fine actor, but he was miscast in the role as Rhodey, and the rapport between Rhodey and Tony that fueled the dialogue of the first Iron Man film was painfully absent. MISS!

Tangled

Disney has an unparalleled record for successfully reimagining fairy tales and literature and twisting them into shorter, usually somewhat lighter versions of their original forms, throwing in arbitrary musical numbers and animals with unnatural friendliness and understanding of their human companions. Disney's newest submission to the fairy tale extreme makeover is the classic tale of Rapunzel, retold in trendy 3D but complete with the usual doses of singing, dancing, young complicated romance, and strange animals.

The fact that this particular tale was released in 3D as an option is of no appeal to me personally, as I still view the 3D trend as an overrated gimmick to boost the number of theater-goers and weasel a few more dollars out of the customers. That is not to say that the film was done sloppily, merely that the addition of the 3D neither added nor subtracted from the experience altogether. Now that's out of the way, the review can begin.

"Rapunzel" is a popular enough tale that any retelling of it would need to be new and inventive, and Disney accomplished this quite well. For starters, Rapunzel's hair is not just immeasurably long, but magical with healing powers that are released through a song. Why? This is going to sound ridiculous, but it's really not that bad onscreen. Because a magical flower was used to heal her mother during childbirth and the plant's healing properties were transferred to the child. Hence Rapunzel's upbringing by the witch is not part of an obscure bargain (as in the original Grimm tale), but as a result of kidnapping. Predictably, the witch longs to be her younger self and uses the power of Rapunzel's hair to restore her youth. Rapunzel herself is completely unaware of how she is being used by the wench whom she knows as her mother. Another difference to the old tale is that Rapunzel, not her suitor, is royalty.

The three characters that this retelling concerns itself with are Rapunzel, Mother Gothel, and Flynn. Rapunzel is a lively young woman who entertains herself with art and song day in and day out with none for her companion but a silent though expressive chameleon named Pascal. Unlike some of her princess predecessors, Rapunzel is not particularly rebellious (no matter how justifiable it might seem) and has bundles of energy and spunk. She falls somewhere between the sheltered but opinionated Ariel (from The Little Mermaid) and the sweetness and loyalty of say, Belle (of Beauty and the Beast). Despite her being a blonde, Rapunzel is well aware of the world outside her tower and longs to see it, but remains obedient to the wishes of her unreasonable "mother." Even when she finally ventures outside the tower, she experiences extreme (albeit comical) mood swings ranging from despairing guilt to jubilant glee over defying her mother's wishes.

Mother Gothel is the kidnapping youth-loving witch who looks like Cher. For the most part she doesn't seem all that formidable, and come to think of it, I don't recall seeing her even use magic other than the mystical song that releases the flower power (which sounds so much worse when I say it that way). As a villain, Gothel is not particularly precarious, mostly just annoying, working manipulative "mother knows best" and "because I love you" angles as her greatest power. But she is a woman scorned and we all know what they say about that.

Flynn on the other hand brings an interesting life to the film. Flynn is easily one of the most unique heroes Disney has ever produced for a fairy tale remake. Unlike Prince Philip, Prince Charming, or even Prince Eric who all fit the perfect mold of having little or no character and almost no purpose other than to be one for the heroine to fall in love with, Flynn is a bit of a rascal. He's a self-important cad and thief who is initially motivated strictly by personal gain, trying more than once to talk Rapunzel out of her quest. Predictably, he changes his mind along the way, but he never loses his cad-like qualities or sarcastic cocked eye-brow attitude. In the climax, Flynn proves himself willing to put aside his self-centered ways and make a sacrifice for the girl he comes to love.

All in all, this is not a typical fairy tale retelling, and that's a compliment. The quirky characters and creative changes from the source material make for an entertaining and enjoyable if predictable Disney movie experience, complete with singing, dancing, and well-timed comic relief.

In Honor of the Great Cliches

     After a recent viewing of the unimpressive and highly predictable Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, it struck me that surely no one besides Prince Dastan was surprised that the king’s brother Nizam was the villain. Indeed, if Ben Kingsley were your uncle, and your father was a king who was mysteriously murdered, wouldn’t uncle Ben be the first person you’d suspect? It doesn’t matter how nice he seems. He’s the king’s brother, he stands to gain the most from the king’s murder, and he’s Ben Kingsley, which 9 times out of 10 has to mean villainy. Clearly, Prince Dastan needed to see The Lion King or read Hamlet. Prince of Persia abounded in adventure cliches, including the prophetic but feisty woman who knows everything and can really kick butt even though she looks like she wouldn’t want to break a nail. Or in this case smudge her tan. It doesn't seem to matter how much the woman might want to kill the protagonist, she never succeeds, and always ends up turning that bloodlust into a different kind of passion.

The predictable clichés of The Prince of Persia inspired me to evaluate the clichés that abound in movie entertainment, not just the adventure genre. Call it what you will, but here are the great clichés that you know if you've seen them once, you've seen them a thousand times.

1. The Genius Child-- I would posit that any role played by Abigail Breslin fits this category, but she's not the only one. Dakota Fanning seems to have had this one a few times, McCauley Culkin, and so on. Kids are smart and I'm not denying that since I used to be one such child (a know-it-all), but even those young moldable minds have limits and are not nearly as common as Hollywood would have us believe. I believe in prodigies as shown in August Rush or Searching for Bobby Fisher, but those films also portray how rare these types are while others don't

blink twice at children who have a thorough knowledge of legislation, psychology, computer hacking, or life in general.

2. The Evil Clergyman- This is not to say that every single clergyman who appears onscreen is a ridiculous legalist, a disgusting pedophile, or a radical crusader, but Hollywood has not been kind to priests and pastors in general. If not evil, then at the very least weak is standard.

3. The Wise Homeless Guy- although this particular cliché is not nearly as common anymore, it has been around for a long time. Apparently living on the streets as a homeless bum turns one into a philosopher and a life counselor.

4. Walking Away from a Grand Explosion- Thanks to a song performed by Andy Sandberg, Will Farrell, and JJ Abrams, we have the song "Cool Guys Don't Look at Explosions" to prove the point. Click here to see the montage of movies that have used this gimmick. But think about it, if there's an explosion, whoever is responsible will callously walk away, never even flinching at the exploding inferno.

5. "Grew up on a farm," "Dad was in the military," or similar excuses given to explain why a petite cute lady or supermodel is an expert in the handling of massive firearms. I grew up in Africa but I don't slay wild beasts or know a variety of weaponry. My parents are missionaries, but I'm not a theologian.

6. The Romantic Monologue- Personally I like monologues and blocks of one-sided dialogue, but they rarely deliver in a romantic scenario. It's not to say it never works, but it is a little worn out. The "you were right" speech, the "it's always been you" speech, and so on and so forth. They've all been done in a variety of settings. But even people that aren't familiar with the origins of, for example, "You complete me" and "You had me at 'hello'" (both are from Jerry Maguire by the way) have heard those lines, not the long speech that led up to them. True that a movie composed entirely of memorable one-liners would be nothing short of disastrous, but the theatrical monologue that wins back the love interest-- it's been done more than a few times.

7. The Crazy Christian- It goes hand in hand with the evil clergyman cliché. This one tends to be a neighbor who is usually a middle-aged judgmental woman who shuns all delights of life and calls everything sin, condemning her neighbors to hell for things like going to the prom. Every now and then you'll even get the extremist who doles out "holy" justice in some twisted perversion of basic moral convictions. They also usually have deep southern accents, and have no concept of basic fashion post-1950.

8. The Kick-Butt Woman- Thank you Lara Croft. At least Lara Croft of Tomb Raider fame had some experience in the field of hard living. This one usually does tend to be more of the action/adventure genre, where realism is not of foremost concern anyway, which is probably why movies keep getting away with this cliché. Seriously though, even Angelina Jolie (the go-to woman for this type of role) can only take down so many war-trained bulky men in hand-to-hand combat before it becomes... ridiculous. Prince of Persia tried this one too as did the unfortunate Pirates of the Caribbean sequels and plenty of others. 

9. The Jerk Fiancé/Significant Other-- This stock character is likely to be found in a movie with a love story because it creates conflict. But you have to wonder what the character who will inevitably ditch this person ever saw in them in the first place.

10. The Big Secret Hideout that No One Knew About- It's in the mountains, in the forest, in the bottom of a lake, or deep within a cave. How could no one know about it? The villain couldn't have built it all by himself. People had to build it, and they couldn't all have become the henchmen of the villain who commissioned the order. Unless the villain had a small country at his command who are loyal to a vow of absolute secrecy, it's unlikely he just happened to have henchmen that had the skills to build a fortress. If the villain killed all the workers, someone would have noticed that too. Someone somewhere knows about it.

There's a reason that these have lasted as long as they have-- these things became clichés because they were bankable gimmicks. That is why this note is called "In Honor of the Great Clichés." These particular ten have been used and used again, and are guaranteed to still be milked continuously-- but it makes me appreciate creativity. With the summer movie season just around the corner and plenty of comic book movies and adventure flicks on the way, it's safe to assume that the great cliches will be alive and well.

True Grit

This year's surprising Oscar nominee True Grit is a remake of an old John Wayne classic of the same name, unseen by me. Last time a western was nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards, it was Brokeback Mountain, also unseen by me, unless you count No Country For Old Men, which I don't. Granted, the Western is not the most frequented genre and there seem to be maybe one or two Westerns each year, which makes the likelihood of one being recognized by the Academy exceptionally narrow. Yet somehow this uncharacteristic submission by the Coen brothers Joel and Ethan managed to grab the attention critics as well as audiences, earning praise even from loyalists of the original film.

The original John Wayne version of the now famous film won the Duke an Oscar for his portrayal of Rooster Cogburn. Meaning no disrespect to the Duke, I find it hard to believe that even John Wayne could have done a better job with Rooster Cogburn than Jeff Bridges has done in the remake-- a performance which earned him an Academy nomination, but no gold (that honor went to worthy opponent Colin Firth for The King's Speech). That is not to say however, that Jeff Bridges did not carry off the role in superb style or was in any way undeserving of the honor of being considered for the best performance of the year.

Bridges brings Cogburn to life with such pristine realism, one can almost smell him. Bridges portrays Cogburn with perfect dramatic and comedic timing, owning every word that slurs. He always seems to be in varying stages of intoxication or at the very least coming out of a hangover, but clearly is not without his moments of contemplation and revelation. While he starts out as merely a calloused mercenary marshal, his closing scenes reveal a deeper heart than concern for just monetary gain. Furthermore, even in his moments of seemingly drunken staggering, he effectively communicates that he is not a man to be toyed with, and has very little moral center preventing him from shooting first and asking questions later-- which he does a few times. Yet for all his lack of sobriety and seemingly careless behavior, you can’t help but care about Rooster Cogburn as he begins to care more about Mattie and her personal mission.

Part of what makes True Grit a compelling story despite its slow narrative pace is the unlikely combination of characters thrown together and rolling unsteadily along like a broken wheel. Central to the story is fourteen year old Mattie Ross, who is determined to find her father’s killer and bring him to justice. She is feisty, outspoken, reckless, and naïve in her perceptions of the world. Relatively unknown young actress Hailee Steinfeld gives Mattie Ross a controlled but passionate center that brings both emotion and humor to this trail story. Emotion because it is her drive to find her father's killer that births the story, humor because of the stark contrast she is to both Marshal Cogburn and the ranger LeBoeuf. Mattie is obviously an earthy young woman with a simple black and white understanding of right and wrong-- a view which means that Mattie has no qualms whatsoever about shooting her father's killer if she ever finds him. Because her personal quest is (in her view) in the name of justice that failed to be carried out, she never falters or stops to wonder about the implications of killing a man. While her purpose was actually to track down Chaney and bring him to trial, she proves that she is prepared to take matters into her own hands if the situation demands it.

The only other character given significant screen time is Matt Damon's LeBoeuf, who serves more or less as comic relief. Not that anyone would want to push him too far, as he is a decent shot, but his general purpose here is to be the character who seems to exit the film several times, but keeps coming back to lend a hand or a laugh. The character is a little out of the ordinary for Matt Damon, but as a supporting character he lightens the mood of the scenes he has, and plays well off of Mattie and especialy Cogburn. 

True Grit is by no means a shootout type of western. In terms of plot and writing it is straightforward and relatively unvarying. In this tone of storytelling, screenplay and music play in like unseen characters. Although this tale is set in the old west where saloons are plenty, social rules are blurry, and justice is a romantic dream, there is a shocking lack of grammatical blunders and conjunctions. In the entire film, even murderers utter less than a handful of words like "ain't." Every character speaks in precise tones, making most of them sound like former members of the Georgia aristocracy.  For example, a character is bitten by a rattlesnake. The expected dialogue would be along the lines of "I just been bit!" with a few profanities directed at the snake. Instead, the character declares "I have been bit." On a similar note, when Cogburn and Mattie meet a travelling medicine man wearing a dead bear and carrying a corpse, he asks politely (though with a hint of insanity in his wild eyes) "Are you in need of medical attention?"

In a story centered on travel and living off the land, one somewhat expects sweeping views of the land and memorable music to accentuate the journey of the characters across the rich American terrain. Not so here. Rather, camera shots are fairly stationary with few angles and no celebration of the scenery. As regards the music, the old hymn "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" runs as a theme throughout most of the film; a curious but appropriate choice. The music and cinematography complement one another and carefully construct a subtle atmosphere around the story that simply works.

In conclusion I find it appropriate to define the word grit. The word grit is synonymous with resolution, fortitude, and courage. In the early stages of the movie Mattie enlists the services of Marshal Cogburn because he has a reputation of having true grit. Cogburn appears to be no more than a washed-up fat old drunk, but by the movie's end, he has proved that he still has grit, and Mattie discovers she has a fair bit of her own. The trail is not easy, the journey is exhausting, but their own true grit pushes them through.

Things I Learned from Horror Movies part 2

It's been over a year since I wrote my list of things learned from horror movies. At this time I would like to revisit this idea, but with a twist. I now give you things to never say in a horror movie scenario, lest they be the last words you ever utter.

"I'll be right back." Whoever says this never comes back. Not alive anyway. Undead, living dead, but never in their original state.

"Did you hear that? Someone should go check it out." And goodbye inquisitive idiot.

"I'll be fine." They never are if they say that; it's overconfidence, and if there's one thing a monster, slasher villain, psycho, or any other horror movie antagonist thrives on, it's overconfidence.

"Is anyone there?" Of course someone or something is there. But they usually won't answer verbally.

"Who's there?" If you've seen Scream, you know this one. If you haven't seen the movie, just don't ask this question. It doesn't end well.

"It's just (fill in the blank: a dog, an old man, one night, around the corner, a book)." It's never just a dog, a spider, a clown, or the wind. Assume worst case scenario.

"What's in here?" I guarantee you it's nothing you want to  know about.

"It can't be him/her!" Sure it can, and it probably is. Cue the next line...

"It's you!" at which point the speaker meets his or her end for having figured out who is responsible for killing the everyone, creating the monster, releasing the monster, and so on and so forth.

"Is that the best you can do?" Of course not. If someone is still alive to utter such lines, it's proof that the antagonist (be it monster, alien, vampire, werewolf, or disturbed truck driver) can in fact do better. Don't taunt them by challenging their abilities.

"It/he/she is dead." Unlikely. Don't get too close.

The King's Speech

If I am King, where is my power? Can I declare war? Form a government? Levy a tax? No! And yet I am the seat of all authority because they think that when I speak, I speak for them. But I can't speak.     

This powerful quote from The King's Speech sums up the heart of Tom Hooper's beautifully effective period drama. When the Academy nominations were announced, The King's Speech had nominations in all the most prestigious categories including Best Picture as well as acting, directing, and technical categories. But beyond a movie that seems tailored to be traditional Academy bait lies a deeply personal and sympathetic story about an ordinary man with relatively ordinary fears forced into an extraordinary situation.

     The story of The King's Speech centers around the Duke of York, or Albert (later given the title King George VI). Albert is the son of a king, and soon to be the brother of a king. Having grown up in the shadow of his father and his brother destined to be king, Albert is not groomed for the public eye. He keeps to himself and quietly attends dinners and functions as a prop to the Royal Family. He bows politely and keeps his wife on his arm and shies away from too much publicity, which works best for him because his speech impediment has been deemed an unforgivable flaw by the British subjects, as well as his own family. Albert's champion is his wife Elizabeth, who stands by him and listens attentively to his painful and forced speechmaking even as the entire nation yawns and whispers amongst themselves. What begins as a standard quest to overcome the obstacle of a crippling stammer becomes a crucial journey of personal discovery as the British Empire turns to an unready Albert for leadership with World War II looming precariously ahead.

     Initially, a movie about a monarch's inability to converse without an embarrassing stammer seems much too straightforward and unvarying to carry an entire movie, but this is where the actors shine with a masterfully crafted screenplay. Colin Firth is currently a favorite to win the Academy Award for Best Actor in a Leading Role for his portrayal of King George VI-- an accolade that would be well-deserved. Firth not only grasps the stammering speech patterns with stunning accuracy, but he communicates in his eyes and facial movements how painful each forced experience is. The lack of self-confidence is written in his shifty eyes and twitching facial muscles as he labors on each word and fearfully casts glances at his ever-supportive wife for affirmation. When he is shown speaking publicly, he is legitimately terrified and visibly trembling, almost frozen in mortification. In private, he trips and fumbles his way through the verbal jungles of common conversational exchanges, barely able to convey a bedtime story to his unconditionally loving daughters.

     Apparently Albert has tried all manner of help from various speech therapists and doctors to no avail, therefore he protests seeing the unconventional Lionel Logue for further help. He hides behind his title as the Duke of York and desperately tries to exert the strength and determination of character that he longs to possess. Albert knows himself to be morally superior to his brother David, but he is unable to stand up for himself when David mocks him. Albert tries to steer his sessions with Logue in the manner of a ruler, but his own insecurities and to a degree immaturities, are a transparent shield that Logue sees through instantly. Initially Albert is offended by Logue's informal manners and seeming lack of respect for royalty, refusing to discuss such trivial matters as early memories or personal matters. It is in these scenes that Colin Firth displays with heartfelt precision the gradual breaking down of Albert's empty defenses, and even more gradual building of Albert's own confidence. For each step that he makes forward, Firth exhibits perfectly the frustration and fury at falling back again and again, unable to use his practice when he needs it the most. Yet in his moments of victory, he may act with restraint appropriate to a king, but his expressions and breathing speak conquest in a great battle. Colin Firth's performance is undoubtedly the finest of his already diverse career.

     The tagline for The King's Speech is "It takes leadership to confront a nation's fear. It takes friendship to conquer your own." The friendship referred to, is the relationship between Albert and Lionel Logue, his speech therapist. While Albert must lead a nation as they face the threat of war, Logue is tasked with helping Albert overcome his disabling fears. Through hours of unusual speech exercises, Albert and Logue develop an unlikely friendship that ultimately turns a stammering Duke into a King. In one particularly rich scene, Albert pays Logue an unscheduled visit. While Albert works on a model plane, a simple joy of childhood that he was denied, he slowly reveals a truth about his past involving an abusive nanny. First he feigns laughter and indifference to the memory. As Logue gently prods, Albert's wound becomes harder for him to hide, and it is clear that these moments with Logue are a rare instance of safety to Albert. And in Albert, Logue finds the validation and accomplishment that affirms his work. 

     The friendship between Albert and Logue is incontestably the center point of The King's Speech. This carefully constructed and powerfully executed theme of the story is sold by its sterling performances. While too much good cannot be said of Colin Firth's incredible performance, the movie is equally carried by the extraordinary skills of Geoffrey Rush-- a man whose talent, like Firth come to think of it, has been consistently and unjustly overlooked time and time again. Here, Rush impressively flexes his dramatic, emotional, and even comic skills. Rush is artless in his craft, effortlessly gliding from a tender scene with his sons to moments of laughter, such as provoking Albert into a profane rant. 
     
     As a character, Logue's sarcastic and sometimes irreverent manner is a stark contrast to Albert's aristocratic and traditional airs. He brings a rare combination of comedy and tension to what otherwise would be a bland docudrama, sometimes delivering a laugh, and other times ruthlessly assaulting Albert's defenses and challenging his authority with actions bordering on treachery. In a later scene of the movie while Albert paces and rants about what he sees as a deception by Logue, he turns to see Logue slouched unceremoniously upon the coronation throne. Albert is infuriated, but Logue sits unflinchingly, asking why he should listen to him at all until Albert declares passionately and lividly "Because I have a voice!" Logue replies calmly and simply "Yes, you do." It is a moment of soaring emotion and gorgeous intensity, performed immaculately and flawlessly. 

     Helena Bonham-Carter is so well known for quirky roles that her turn as Duchess of York Elizabeth almost seems too ordinary given her pattern of movie choices. A prim and proper duchess would almost promise to be underwhelming, and yet Bonham-Carter portrays Elizabeth with a quiet wifely strength characteristic of a queen without losing her human touch. While Elizabeth is not given to as many emotional peaks as Albert, her frustration, sympathy, or irritation is certainly not hidden, yet she portrays all these feelings with royal restraint. As a duchess, Elizabeth fits her position comfortably and seems more at ease with the royal life than her born-into-priviledge husband. As a wife and mother, Elizabeth shows unfaltering support for her husband and tender sweetness towards her daughters. Elizabeth plays a crucial role in her husband's growth as a leader and a man, displaying a steadfastness of character that is largely unseen, but the benefits of which are hugely important. 

     England through the eyes of The King's Speech is dreary, foggy, and wet. Even Buckingham Palace seems like little more than a relic in need of repainting. The beams of light shining through the palace windows illuminate the dust that floats through the air of the regal residence. Logue's office is made up of stained and mismatched furniture set on uneven floorboards and pushed against peeling wallpaper. The King's Speech is not a period drama that makes the early decades of the 1900's look fine and sparkly, but rather, shows in its mere imagery a shift in the times. While the royal family grapples with the publicity nightmare of David's open affair, they struggle to save face. But like Buckingham Palace itself, the monarchy is an old relic that lacks the luster and grandeur of former years.

     The King's Speech tackles what might have been an impossibly boring plot scenario, and makes it a piece of true art. By mixing creative camera angles with sparing use of music, cut with various newsreel blips to set the tone for the world in which the characters function, along with award-worthy performances across the board, The King's Speech is a complete and thoroughly exquisite drama. Through the poetic blending of tender private moments with the intense scenes of public scrutiny, The King's Speech manages to be neither biography nor fiction, but walks the fine line between them, creating a compassionate story about fighting-- and defeating-- one's great inner battles, and the friendships that will win that victory.  

Avatar: Original or Overrated?

     When Avatar debuted in December of 2009, the trailers failed to capture my interest. Even when one person after another exited the theater raving about James Cameron's newest epic, the draw to surrender the $13 entry fee for this supposedly insurmountable 3D cinematic experience was still completely absent. When awards season rolled around and Avatar claimed recognition from multiple institutions, including the prestigious Academy Awards and Golden Globes, I dismissed it as being a ploy to entice viewers to watch the ceremonies by nominating popular choices. However, when Avatar continued to break records, make headlines, and spur conversation long after its December debut, curiosity was sparked. Now, almost a year after its release, I finally saw the film that has been hailed as the defining movie of 2009, and praised as a great revolution in moviemaking.

     There is no denying that James Cameron knows how to deal in big movies. From the Abyss, to the many Terminator movies to the ludicrously ambitious (and successful) Titanic, Cameron does his best (or at least most publicized) work on no small scale, and it would seem that he is amply rewarded for his zealous efforts. It is safe to say that if a studio were to give a 300 million dollar movie budget to anyone, Cameron is a good gamble. Many have labelled Avatar as Cameron's magnus opus; the work that he will be most remembered for. While this may be true, my impression of this grand epic that had been so hyped up is that Avatar, while initially interesting, visually sumptuous, and certainly fabulously entertaining, was plainly overrated. 

     Avatar as a story is much less original than it is given credit for. After hearing several assessments from various viewers, I determined that Avatar was a silver screen tribute to Earth Day or a thinly veiled effort to persuade the audience that "going green" was a moral and ethical philosophy that ought to be adopted by all who greedily consume our planet's resources. This is mostly inaccurate. Avatar's story follows more closely with Pocahontas than An Inconvenient Truth, borrowing an idea or two from Star Wars. Where Pocahantas had the adventurous explorer John Smith as the somewhat naive male protagonist, Avatar boasts Jake Sully, an adventurous explorer and paraplegic marine. John Smith's employers ruthlessly seek gold; the hostile military figures that recruit Jake are determined to pillage the world of Pandora to harvest unobtanium, an extremely powerful highly rare source of energy that sells for indecent amounts per kilo, and can bring cheap power back to a supposedly dying Earth. 

     Pocahontas had the curvy Native American babe in tight buckskins, and Avatar has an indigenous native of the Na'vi tribe named Neytiri in...well, mostly nothing. A few leaves and well positioned pieces of jewelry and occasionally pieces of clothing. But anyone with enough sense to tie their shoes will recognize that the Na'vi are humanoid except for a few feature differences. Na'vi for example, have tails, sleek blue skin, large catlike eyes, and flattened noses. However, even these additions and alterations to the basic human form do not change Neytiri's distinctly feminine shape and mannerisms (similar to Mystique from the X-Men movies). Like Pocahontas, Neytiri is sensitively in tune with the balance of the universe and the respect of all living things from the pestilent mongrels to the luminescent moss on the lush planet of Pandora. Inevitably, the human Jake with a hidden agenda and the uncorrupted lover of the earth Neytiri fall in love as their worlds collide. 

     Avatar is full of cliche characters, right down to the jealous would-be lover of the female protagonist. The Na'vi are the characteristically earthy and spiritualistic natives who are mostly good. The humans are mindless greed-driven machines that rape the natural world in search of wealth. In their defense however not all the humans are bad, and there are a few characters that almost redeem the race as a whole. Villains with absolutely no identifiable moral center are nothing new to any genre, and every now and then there is the inexplicably motivated mephistopheles whose bloodlust is rooted in unadulterated hate for another race, species, or living things in general -- as proved by the Patriot, District 9, the Dark Knight, and so on. The demon here is the crazed Colonel, who is so bent on completing his mission that no amount of reason or logic can convince him to alter his plans. He is an unashamed imperialist that believes his way is the only way, and that the inhabitants of Pandora are nothing more than superstitious animals who ought to be punished and abused for not being born subservient humans that can follow orders. There is definite political commentary in the undertones of Avatar but I chose to overlook it, as there are few things more unpalatable in entertainment than an irrelevant and badly disguised political agenda. 

     Main characters Jake and Neytiri undergo predictable development, and shortly into their acquaintance the only real question is if their story will be happily ever after, or take the road of Titanic when the credits roll. Jake starts out a quiet but thoughtful young man who accepts his mission without question, completely unaware of what his superiors are ultimately willing to sacrifice. As is standard in this sort of movie, once Jake meets Neytiri and begins his undercover "study" of the Na'vi, he is seduced by their pure and naturalistic ways and slowly assimilates into their culture, learning to appreciate and eventually embrace their beliefs. Jake's introduction to Neytiri-- a cross between an Amazon warrior princess and a lizard is when she saves his life, and he is immediately smitten. Neytiri, the strong-willed and athletic native who bounces effortlessly from limb to limb while Jake heaves deep breaths behind her trying to keep up, stays strong-willed and athletic. She immediately recognizes Jake's good heart, but she is annoyed by her assignment to be his guide and teach him the ways of the tribe. Naturally she gets over it in time to be "bonded" with Jake before all the secret plans of the military hit the fan. 

     Whether or not Avatar is truly revolutionary as far as moviemaking is concerned I could not say, but Avatar is undeniably a feast for the eyes with its colorful landscapes, sweeping scenery, epic battles, and smooth computer graphics. The Na'vi and avatar bodies move fluidly but not disconnected from their environment. The creatures and monsters that inhabit Pandora have elements similar to that of Earth's wildlife, but still possess a unique identity born of an original creativity that George Lucas would approve of. The unspoiled rainforest surface of Pandora is breathtaking in an extraterrestrial Eden kind of way, utilizing geographical features that a human photographer would kill to witness. In one particularly remarkable scene, Neytiri mounts a pterodactyl-type flying creature and soars and swoops around a gigantic tree, showing off the full scope of the scenery and the elegance of the way the creature moves in its natural habitat. 

     With all the stunning pizzaz of excellently engaging simulations, its only flaw is that it fails to feel completely real. This may have been intentional on the part of the filmmakers to remind the audience that this is an alien planet that is unlike earth, and therefore should not feel familiar. But beyond this lack of familiarity, several of (but not all) the scenes on Pandora seem intangible-- as though the glowing foliage not only does not exist, but fails to convince the viewer that it could, even on another world. The computer generated planet and its infinite number of details are thoroughly impressive, but ever so slightly artificial. The floating mountains, misty water, and fantastic beasts are so beautiful that they are perhaps a little too uncorrupted by things such as, say... dirt. 

     Avatar succeeds, even excels on all levels except one; the story. Avatar exceeds even high standards in the areas of special effects, spectacular music, meticulous art direction, and an initially engaging story. But once the movie has the foundation for the story laid, the script turns cliche and predictable. Although beautifully done, Avatar relies too heavily on its dazzling special effects, and not enough on a strong or varied plot. Its special effects are considerably gorgeous, but that is not enough to carry a movie. Jake is an interesting character with believable motives, and the screen time spent showing his various lessons from Neytiri are entertaining, but Jake as a character is somewhat static. His opinions and motivations change, but because he is portrayed as the "nice guy" from the beginning, it is hardly surprising when he chooses to risk his life for the Na'vi people, turning on his own species. Similarly, the colonel has a glint in his eye from his first minutes onscreen that hint at his obsessive drive, and he is identifiable as a villain long before he has done anything wrong. And as previously stated, the love story between Jake and Neytiri is standard.


To sum it all up, Avatar is definitely a good movie. Although the story might not be the most original or the most surprising, its setting is unique and executed with enough grace and style to be memorable. Avatar is most certainly entertaining on many levels, especially as regards the special effects. But as many breathtaking moments as there are in Avatar, they are just that-- a series of moments. The film as a whole, while a great popcorn flick, is slightly overrated. It echoes too closely every other movie ever made about colonization, imperialism, or love in war, and does not sufficiently veil its political commentary. However, due to the fact that all these themes are presented in a hitherto unseen way, the film is well-worth a night on the couch. Its many accolades were well-earned and there are several aspects of Avatar that one would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere, but it is doubtful that Avatar will be remembered as an icon of movie history. It may long remain a popular movie to mainstream audiences, but in a few years it will step down and make way for another movie to take the crown, just like every other CGI-dependent film before it has done.