Furry Vengeance

Roger Kumble's Furry Vengeance is actually a lot more than an annoying comedy with poor bear representation and far to many repetitive scenes. It's also an attempt to indoctrinate children with an eco-friendly racist attitude regarding globalization (I suppose this is about as progressive as Republicans get). As the film unreels, real-estate developer Brendan Fraser (Dan Sanders) plans to turn a forest into a subdivision and cash-in both professionally and economically. But the forest's residents are aware of his ambitions and set out to annihilate them. As time passes, Fraser realizes that the animals are simply trying to protect their families in the same way that he is trying to protect his, and he consequently takes their side in the order of things. But his change of mind angers his Asian American boss who was trying to raise the related development capital from a group of East-Indian industrialists and all hell breaks loose at the annual town festival. And the reconstituted American champions the rights of his community and India and China are prevented from ruining the American landscape. Children should be spared the ways in which films like Furry Vengeance attempt to xenophobically and racistly indoctrinate them, and it's a shame trash like this received a widespread mainstream distribution.

Red

I liked Robert Schwentke's Red even though there's not much to it. I recommend it if and only if you're searching for a mildly entertaining brain numbing occasionally amusing action flick wherein several old-school big names (Helen Mirren, Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich, Richard Dreyfuss, Ernest Borgnine) give a Space Cowboys salute to their careers. I was glad to see Brian Cox included in the cast. Even though his career hasn't had as many leading roles, he's definitely demonstrated a robust dynamic multidimensional integrity over the years (as if casting personnel Deborah Aquila and Mary Tricia Wood are saying "you, Brian Cox, are the ultimate mainstream supporting actor"). The next generation is represented by Karl Urban who has demonstrated his abilities in films such as The Chronicles of Riddick, Star Trek, and Pathfinder, and he resignedly holds his own throughout. The film vilifies American atrocities committed in Central America during the 1980s and while this is good it's as if its structure is saying that it's to bad it took the American mainstream 25 years to catch up. The internal dynamics point out how hard it is to prevent such things from happening if you're solely concerned with advancing your own personal agenda, unless that agenda is designed to prevent such things from happening.

La dernière fugue (The Last Escape)

A son struggles with his conception of his father as that father tries to maintain his place at the head of his household during Christmas dinner. But Parkinson's Disease and a generally ornery disposition have lead that father's family to openly revolt against his traditional authority. While taking a break, family members André (Yves Jacques) and Sam (Aliocha Schneider) consider the notion that perhaps euthanasia is the best solution, seeing how their patriarch (Jacques Godin) remains mentally lucid but physically and spiritually destitute. Their long suffering matriarch (Andrée Lachapelle) isn't adverse to the idea (especially after the father mentions that he no longer wishes to go on) and Léa Pool's La dernière fugue (The Last Escape) crisply examines the resultant subject matter. But is it the patriarchy itself that has Parkinson's and are we watching a sentimental salute to an eclipsed cultural stranglehold whose vilification of marijuana and strict gender roles doesn't productively jive with the 21st century? Pool's film doesn't directly suggest this and she delicately pays respect to different generational attitudes within, providing multiple viewpoints with terse, spur of the moment exclamations. The speed at which everything takes place is suspect as is the sudden ending, but the overt manner which Pool adopts in order to launch her investigation is pronounced and bold and refreshingly open.

Masculin féminin: 15 faits précis

Answers and questions. Definitions and commitment. Meaning and possibility. Love. Jean-Luc Godard's Masculin féminin situates and interrogates his uncertain conception of Parisian ideology within a diverse realistic quotidian brand of surrealism which effectively simulates a dynamically fluctuating resolution. Practically searching for truths and realizations in accordance with predetermined principles can have a disillusioning affect when trying to place them within one's expectations of an other, based upon interpretations of historical interactions, especially when such principles are being simultaneously synthetically analyzed. But this doesn't prevent Paul (Jean-Pierre Léaud) from continuing to interact with and observe his community as partner Madeleine (Chantal Goya) becomes a pop star. Many scenes are robust, showcasing differing points of view quickly and acutely yet calmly and pensively, while eating breakfast in a café for instance, the actors eating and drinking throughout, like a well-executed preplanned orchestration of randomly improvised daily life, with just enough absurd happenings to make sure it isn't taking itself to seriously. Stop analyzing things and you may have an easier time unless analyzing things makes you happy (assuming happiness is a possibility). Cultural tropes (interviews for pop magazines . . .) are subtly satirized and recast to reelevate their "insert your adjective" recognitions. I have no idea what this film is about. And I used a lot of big words.

The Social Network

I'm on Facebook every single day. Mostly just to play Scrabble but also to see the news items etc. that friends have designated as worthy of sharing. And to see who is adhering to the art of creating compelling Facebook Profile Status Updates. It's not the easiest thing to do although its analysis depends upon which of the myriad factors one's disposition chooses to exalt as wrought iron synthetic principles at that specific time, which depends upon how that day's events have individually affected his or her historical constitution. Even if you have principles that you always apply it depends upon how those principles align themselves with and are interpreted by your personality's unique composition at that given moment. I'm just trying to say that it must be fun being a judge.

David Fincher's The Social Network examines how Facebook came to be, placing its provocative genesis within a generally non-judgmental framework. Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) is distraught regarding a relationship that has gone sour and engages in cybershenanigans in order to reestablish his sense of self. Said shenanigans impress three other students who resultantly share their idea for a social networking site, hoping that he will join their team. However, believing he can improve on their idea and develop it on his own, with a little help from his friends, Zuckerberg breaks and predominantly partners with his best friend Eduardo (Andrew Garfield) instead. But differing philosophies concerning how the company should be managed significantly rupture their bond, and the film unreels by staggering two simultaneous lawsuits with the practical details composing their judicial trajectories.

Zuckerberg comes across as exceptionally shrewd and benefits economically and culturally if not socially from his endeavours. The film's well structured (especially the opening scene), thankfully providing unnecessary depth for some of its characters while realigning our attention every couple of minutes or so. Generalizations regarding personalities are delivered incisively (internally speaking) and the difficulties of fantastically capturing the legal realities disrupting Zuckerberg's life are handled well (the scenes are terse and kitschy yet volatile and characteristic [the form 'distilling' the undergraduate personality]). Sean Parker's (Justin Timberlake) introduction effectively breaks up the narrative, functioning as a transformative bridge much like that in David Bowie's "Changes." And although the breakdown of Zuckerberg and Saverin's friendship is a little tough to take, at least its resolution sees some ethics transferred to the world of business. After lengthy, expensive, legal proceedings.

Well, I'm about to check Facebook for the 16th time today in order to see if that ukelele jam's still on for tomorrow and whether or not I can score a Scrabble bingo. Why did T_______ post that picture? That's not going to go over well. I would start my own zoo but you can't design it from scratch and I want a zoo that only contains different types of bears. This kind of functionality isn't present people . . !

Altered States

Eddie Jessup (William Hurt) is a scientist committed to experiencing/discovering the first thought, the foundational ontological kernel. Conducting experiments with sensory deprivation and hallucinogenic drugs, he comes closer and closer to unlocking existence's primordial governing secret. But as he approaches this void, he sacrifices his wife and family, not permitting domestic comforts to conflict with his pursuit of knowledge. Then, as his genetic structure begins to deteriorate and his blackouts engender carnal repercussions, he must battle reality's constitution and embrace the overwhelming power of love; after briefly transforming into an apelike creature.

As scientific-poetry deconstructs the relationship between professional and personal responsibility, Ken Russell's Altered States melodramatically illustrates a thesis regarding what it means to be human. Its synthesis of art and science can come across as naively sentimental, multifaceted and interrogative, cheesy and distorted, or incredibly uplifting, depending. Can you maintain a substantial "I" without reciprocating a loving partner's devotion? According to Altered States's depiction of the humanistic universe's physiological construction, the answer is "no," you cannot.

Cube

Vincenzo Natali's Cube presents a group of strangers who wake up within a byzantine death trap with no choice but to work together to gain their freedom. Their prison is a giant cube in which some rooms are safe and others contain malicious contraptions designed to quickly end their lives. Enigmatic clues are provided the deciphering of which will enable them to pass through unscathed. As the trapped individuals begin to solve the puzzle, it quickly becomes apparent that a particular form of human nature is their own worst enemy.

The characters are divided into two camps, one nihilistic, the other content with the order of things. Paranoid anxious dialogue delivers extreme points from both ideological stances as their confines suffocate their more polite characteristics. One character decides that they must take control and takes it upon themself to lead. Believing in a strict, necessary, veracious, immutable relationship between things and the ways in which a particular school of thought has defined them, they consider themself to be a representative of austerity and therefore the purist candidate for leadership. Trying to apply the guidelines of a master-narrative to their random circumstances rather than negotiating and aligning themself with the organized structural ambiguity leads to violence and madness, and the laissez-faire nihilists must cope with this determined beast. But passively accepting their situation and progressing patiently and calmly does not guarantee them success, for the designs of the cube cater to both reason and madness alike where only the innocent can survive. According to the ridiculous ending anyways. The logic built into this ending works with Cube's structure however, Natali positioning himself within the very same technosocial-predicament he examines, like Rousseau in a pernicious futuristic state of nature, and delivering the predictable stereotypical solution (the fact that the villain somehow returns) that so often is designated "correct" by its designer's dementia.

Machete

Robert Rodriguez's new action film Machete (co-directed by Ethan Maniquis) accomplishes its goals and effectively pays respect to its filmic heritage. But it's no Planet Terror. The right content is in place. An implacable officer of the law is disgraced and humiliated by a corrupt Mexican drug lord (Steven Seagal as Torrez) and left with nothing besides his integrity and honour (Danny Trejo as Machete). Continuing to make ends meet as a landscape artist, he is eventually hired by a rich thug (Jeff Fahey as Michael Booth) to kill a politician whose policies vilify illegal Mexican immigration to the United States (Robert de Niro as Senator John McLaughlin). But a double-cross is in the mix, and Machete soon finds himself hunted by Booth's men after narrowly escaping their treacherous clutches. Alone and on the run, he finds help from a sultry revolutionary posing as a taco-salesperson (Michelle Rodriguez as Luz) and a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agent who needs to recalibrate her attitude (Jessica Alba as Sartana Rivera). Blades and bullets carve up and shoot through a copious cast of ruffians as justice is delivered with unrelenting speed and precision.

The following strengths permeate Machete: it takes itself seriously while seeming unconcerned and distracted which results in a confident cohesive bravado; there are plenty of ridiculous situations and conversations which accentuate its robust candour; voluptuous babes, a pure and indestructible hero, mayhem, and a clearly defined purpose; over the top incompetent villains who are consistently outmaneuvered and thwarted; classic showdown in the end heralded by several acrobatic and athletic escapes throughout; solid response to harsh immigration laws; these features and many others coalesce to forge a thrilling A-listed B-movie whose volatile vendettas and frenetic flesh provides myriad treats for the senses. But the writing lacks the hilarious moments that made Planet Terror superlative kitsch and many scenes consistently fall flat as a consequence. This isn't necessarily a bad thing considering that many of the films to which Machete pays homage possess similar scripts. But many of these films aren't the greatest and Planet Terror worked because it was one of the greatest not-so-great films of the early 2000s, one of my favourites anyways. I'm afraid that without the linguistic skill and ingenuity that adhesively structured Planet Terror's action and dialogue, Machete is little more than a vivid and harmonious recapturing of a lacklustre aesthetic, perfectly sliced, yet lacking innovation.