Definitely the worst Sam Peckinpah film I've seen, The Osterman Weekend pretentiously delivers a straightforward thriller in a tawdry fashion. Many of the lines possess merit but it's hard to believe they weren't rewritten to improve upon their catchy yet stark foundation.
Yeah yeah.
So a CIA agent's wife is murdered and afterwards he seeks revenge. He's eventually tasked with convincing television host John Tanner (Rutger Hauer) that three of his closest friends are working for the KGB. The plan: gain Tanner's trust and help him to persuade one of his friends to return to team America and recast himself as a double agent. The setting: a weekend vacation at Tanner's house. The giveaway: the CIA agent (John Hurt as Lawrence Fassett) has actually fabricated the story because he suspects that CIA director Maxwell Danforth (Burt Lancaster) is responsible for murdering his wife. He hopes to expose Danforth's murderous ways on national television in an interview conducted by Tanner. Danforth agrees to the interview after Tanner agrees to betray his friends. Tanner agrees to set Danforth up after Fassett kidnaps his wife and son and murders four of his friends. There's one of the worst car chase scenes I've ever scene. And does shattering glass really need several slow moving close-ups?
The smooth jazz soundtrack doesn't help things. Innovative directors use the ways in which their credits are presented to express meaning. I was fearful that The Osterman Weekend's opening credits were forecasting a predictable bourgeois sickly sentimental swan song, and unfortunately they were. If you're ever wondering where Trey Parker and Matt Stone find a lot of their material, The Osterman Weekend is worth checking out. Otherwise, unless you're a devoted Peckinpah fan or like watching bad movies with exceptional casts, steer clear of The Osterman Weekend ad nauseam.
Showing posts with label Thrillers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thrillers. Show all posts
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Inception
Dreamscapes contain valuable corporate secrets. Hidden within the depths of one's psyche lie descriptive vaults and tumultuous treasures which competitors ruthlessly seek to discover. In Christopher Nolan's Inception, Leonardo DiCaprio (Cobb) and a team of elite surrealists are experts in the art of extraction, an architecturo-scientific technique which enables thieves to enter the dreams of their quarry and learn volatile and valuable information. Basically, chords, chemicals, and a mysterious brief case allow a group of individuals to share a dream. The dream's form is designed by Cobb's architect while its content is filled with the victim's experiences. After the individual bearing the sought after information falls into a drug induced sleep, everyone else joins his or her dream, doing their best to avoid being detected by her or his subconscious (many persons in prestigious positions have trained their subconscious to recognize extractors and fight back). Extraction's opposite is known as inception, the placing of an alien idea into someone's subconscious so that it appears as if it was self-generated. Inception is thought to be impossible, but when a Japanese businessperson (Ken Watanabe as Saito) intent on breaking up a global monopoly offers Cobb the chance to be forgiven for his American crimes and return home to see his family, he accepts, and begins placing the necessary mechanisms in order (the individual is granted the opportunity to rejoin his community if he can effectively shatter a universal).
Problems: while dreaming, Cobb's diseased ex-wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) consistently appears, takes sides with the victim's subconscious, and attempts to thwart his efforts. Usually when you die within a dream you wake up, but the drug used during inception operations is so potent that if your life ends while dreaming you are cast into limbo, and you may stay there for decades while only minutes pass in the real world. In order for inception to work, you need to suggest the idea to your prey at three different levels. Hence, in the real world you are sleeping. In the first stage of the dream world you wake up, find the individual to whom you are attached, make the requisite suggestion, and are then forced to enter a deeper level of dreaming in order to make the suggestion again. While in this secondary level, one member of your team must remain in the first level and prevent the primary dreamer's subconscious from ending your mission. The process repeats itself until you reach the third level at which point it is thought that the idea has been planted with enough cohesiveness to undoubtably produce results in the real world. Hence, you need to be able to militaristically maneuver within a tailored dreamscape wherein you must also execute a precise plan requiring the coordinated efforts of at most four groups of resolute individuals. The defences against which you contend are determined and hostile and the environment in which you are situated is an organized chaotic psychological cataclysm.
Inception's subject matter is deep and skillfully crafted. The execution of the plot contains several well-timed peaks and valleys which dextrously establish an energetic if not schizophrenic ambience. It's definitely dense. A significant portion of the film unreels like a slick lecture but some of the principle points could have still used some more elaboration (why do the different layers of the dreaming have distinct temporal coordinates for instance [it would have been outrageously cool if Neil Gaiman's Dream had somehow explained this!]) . Nevertheless, it's pretty stunning visually and demanding intellectually, not only in regards to the narrative's hefty overt dimension, but also in relation to its tantalizing and ambiguous ending (stop reading if you haven't seen it), which suggests that the entire film was simply Cobb's dream, and would explain why he's the only character whose personal experience is manifested while inhabiting 'someone else's.' To create a work that has at least two layers of critically motivational depth in an exciting fashion that directly deals with issues of individuality, corporate politics, marriage, family, scientific exploration, globalization, and so on, while indirectly interrogating any pedagogical institution (for me the film's dreamworld is that of an educational structure's relationship to a political agenda and the difficulties of ever successfully planting a dominant idea in the minds of its rebellious students [one level elementary, then secondary, then post-secondary]) is exceptional, and Inception is the best Sci-Fi Thriller I've seen in a long time. A shape-shifting analytical delineation of the synthetic, Inception multidimensionally interrogates what it means to dream, while efficiently disseminating its controversial characteristics.
Very real.
Problems: while dreaming, Cobb's diseased ex-wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) consistently appears, takes sides with the victim's subconscious, and attempts to thwart his efforts. Usually when you die within a dream you wake up, but the drug used during inception operations is so potent that if your life ends while dreaming you are cast into limbo, and you may stay there for decades while only minutes pass in the real world. In order for inception to work, you need to suggest the idea to your prey at three different levels. Hence, in the real world you are sleeping. In the first stage of the dream world you wake up, find the individual to whom you are attached, make the requisite suggestion, and are then forced to enter a deeper level of dreaming in order to make the suggestion again. While in this secondary level, one member of your team must remain in the first level and prevent the primary dreamer's subconscious from ending your mission. The process repeats itself until you reach the third level at which point it is thought that the idea has been planted with enough cohesiveness to undoubtably produce results in the real world. Hence, you need to be able to militaristically maneuver within a tailored dreamscape wherein you must also execute a precise plan requiring the coordinated efforts of at most four groups of resolute individuals. The defences against which you contend are determined and hostile and the environment in which you are situated is an organized chaotic psychological cataclysm.
Inception's subject matter is deep and skillfully crafted. The execution of the plot contains several well-timed peaks and valleys which dextrously establish an energetic if not schizophrenic ambience. It's definitely dense. A significant portion of the film unreels like a slick lecture but some of the principle points could have still used some more elaboration (why do the different layers of the dreaming have distinct temporal coordinates for instance [it would have been outrageously cool if Neil Gaiman's Dream had somehow explained this!]) . Nevertheless, it's pretty stunning visually and demanding intellectually, not only in regards to the narrative's hefty overt dimension, but also in relation to its tantalizing and ambiguous ending (stop reading if you haven't seen it), which suggests that the entire film was simply Cobb's dream, and would explain why he's the only character whose personal experience is manifested while inhabiting 'someone else's.' To create a work that has at least two layers of critically motivational depth in an exciting fashion that directly deals with issues of individuality, corporate politics, marriage, family, scientific exploration, globalization, and so on, while indirectly interrogating any pedagogical institution (for me the film's dreamworld is that of an educational structure's relationship to a political agenda and the difficulties of ever successfully planting a dominant idea in the minds of its rebellious students [one level elementary, then secondary, then post-secondary]) is exceptional, and Inception is the best Sci-Fi Thriller I've seen in a long time. A shape-shifting analytical delineation of the synthetic, Inception multidimensionally interrogates what it means to dream, while efficiently disseminating its controversial characteristics.
Very real.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Predators
Never thought I'd see Adrien Brody covered in mud fighting a Predator monster, but Nimród Antal's Predators delivers such a scene and fills it with pugnacious intensity. The film immediately situates us within a frenetic free fall as several elite military personnel awake after having been cast out of an airborne vessel, parachute in tact. After landing, this multicultural group of warriors discover they've been kidnapped and shipped to an alien planet upon which they've become the prey of a group of unflappable veteran killers, who seek their destruction with inveterate artistry. There's only one way to deal: bond together as a group, embrace the brutal predicament, exchange chides and military strategies, be thankful that everyone has recourse to a common language, and fight back by any means necessary. If you like thrilling horrific action films set in a paranoid chaotic environment wherein battles and direct conversations are consistently presented in an exciting straightforward fashion, then you'll likely enjoy the latest instalment in the Predator series. Its attention to detail and expertly crafted wit indicate that it was created by filmmakers who take action seriously, respect their fans, and aren't looking to simply make a buck. I enjoyed the ambiguous dimension developed for Topher Grace's character, the depth added to the supporting cast, the vindictive one-liner delivered in Russian, the expansion of the Predator universe, the outstanding samurai scene, and the well-timed intelligently designed pacing. Acutely accelerated from start to finish, Predators diversifies and electrifies the Predator franchise, just in time for its third filmic decade.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Sunshine
Don't know how many claustrophobic spaceship films I've seen but there's been a bunch. Possibly 12. And Danny Boyle's new feature Sunshine fits somewhere in the middle. Aboard the Icarus II, a team of astronauts have a mission to fire a payload deep into the heart of the sun. They hope this payload will generate an explosion that will reignite its dying embers, thereby saving planet Earth. During their voyage, they encounter a distress beacon from their lost predecessor, the Icarus I, and decide to investigate. Within this investigation, lies both their personal doom and their eternal salvation.
Alex Garland's script showcases some of the typical sci-fi-thriller tropes. The tight quarters cause egos to erupt, leading to fighting amongst the crew. An evil force is encountered bent on destroying their mission. Love-play is absent as the crew have more serious matters to take care of, and recreation can be found in a room which manufactures whatever its inhabitant desires. Of these traits, I was somewhat disappointed by the introduction of the evil force. The villain certainly provides the heroes with plenty of opportunity to be heroic but couldn't these traits still be effectively displayed without the presence of a bloodthirsty lunatic?
Probably not, but it would be nice to see if the filmmakers could pull it off without being either excessively mundane or trivially over-the-top. I suppose I'm searching for another 2001 but even it had its own version of a monster.
Okay, perhaps you need monsters in science fiction thrillers of one kind or another, but I still don't like the demon that inhabits Sunshine. Nonetheless, it certainly doesn't take away from the script's interesting characteristics. The crew has recourse to a special room that offers them an extremely close up encounter with the rays of the sun, and, even though none of them seem that tanned, the image can represent research or the pursuit of knowledge. The maximum percentage of brightness that a viewer can be exposed to is somewhere around 3.1%, a statistic that represents knowledge's pursuit insofar as no matter how much we learn, there are always billions of other things we'll never know, each producing their own life breathing intensity. One death scene stands out as well, where the captain surrenders to the hopelessness of his predicament and burns up with the sun (after having rescued the ship). There he stands, alone against the universe after having sacrificed himself for the sake of humanity. His situation represents the end of a committed artist's life, to me, an ending which sees that artist forced to face the beautifully horrific details of life, up close and personal.
Alex Garland's script showcases some of the typical sci-fi-thriller tropes. The tight quarters cause egos to erupt, leading to fighting amongst the crew. An evil force is encountered bent on destroying their mission. Love-play is absent as the crew have more serious matters to take care of, and recreation can be found in a room which manufactures whatever its inhabitant desires. Of these traits, I was somewhat disappointed by the introduction of the evil force. The villain certainly provides the heroes with plenty of opportunity to be heroic but couldn't these traits still be effectively displayed without the presence of a bloodthirsty lunatic?
Probably not, but it would be nice to see if the filmmakers could pull it off without being either excessively mundane or trivially over-the-top. I suppose I'm searching for another 2001 but even it had its own version of a monster.
Okay, perhaps you need monsters in science fiction thrillers of one kind or another, but I still don't like the demon that inhabits Sunshine. Nonetheless, it certainly doesn't take away from the script's interesting characteristics. The crew has recourse to a special room that offers them an extremely close up encounter with the rays of the sun, and, even though none of them seem that tanned, the image can represent research or the pursuit of knowledge. The maximum percentage of brightness that a viewer can be exposed to is somewhere around 3.1%, a statistic that represents knowledge's pursuit insofar as no matter how much we learn, there are always billions of other things we'll never know, each producing their own life breathing intensity. One death scene stands out as well, where the captain surrenders to the hopelessness of his predicament and burns up with the sun (after having rescued the ship). There he stands, alone against the universe after having sacrificed himself for the sake of humanity. His situation represents the end of a committed artist's life, to me, an ending which sees that artist forced to face the beautifully horrific details of life, up close and personal.
1408
The latest Stephen King text to find its way to the big screen is 1408, an adaptation of the second short story found in the audiobook Blood and Smoke. Director Mikael Hafstrom delivers some genuine chills and pertinent thrills although the overall product warrants its PG-13 rating.
Nice to see John Cusack in a thriller. For a while, I figured Cusack's career would interminably churn out romantic-comedy after romantic-comedy, but, low and behold, the fates stepped in and provided us with 2005's The Ice Harvest, and, now, 1408. The thriller can occasionally till troubled ground for a performer's career, but a script like 1408's gives the actor in question enough room to competently maneuver (if she or he can resiliently respond to its frequent gesticulations). And Cusack sophisticatedly uses every second as disgruntled, sort of married, bitter, writer, Mike Enslin, whose life became a 24 hour misery after the death of his daughter. Enslin works as a travel writer who spends his time visiting hotel rooms that are reputed to be haunted, chronicling his visits in bargain bin novels that keep his surfboard afloat. When he discovers the Dolphin Hotel's fabled room 1408, with over 50 recorded deaths, he sets out for his first real encounter with the terrifying affects of the paranormal.
Which situates 1408 within the fable category of the thriller/horror genre. Rather than horror for horror's sake (see Rob Zombie's Halloween later this summer), 1408 has a moral dimension that its protagonist must face in order to challenge his nightmare. This moral dimension synthesizes well with the tame and frightening drama and allows 1408 to function as a successful introductory fright flick for those curious about the genre. While the ending can be thought of as a more docile version of John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, the ambience established throughout is of the cutesy variety that contains an horrific agenda of its own, depending upon the status of your belief in biblical good and evil, or, the intensity of your faith.
Nice to see John Cusack in a thriller. For a while, I figured Cusack's career would interminably churn out romantic-comedy after romantic-comedy, but, low and behold, the fates stepped in and provided us with 2005's The Ice Harvest, and, now, 1408. The thriller can occasionally till troubled ground for a performer's career, but a script like 1408's gives the actor in question enough room to competently maneuver (if she or he can resiliently respond to its frequent gesticulations). And Cusack sophisticatedly uses every second as disgruntled, sort of married, bitter, writer, Mike Enslin, whose life became a 24 hour misery after the death of his daughter. Enslin works as a travel writer who spends his time visiting hotel rooms that are reputed to be haunted, chronicling his visits in bargain bin novels that keep his surfboard afloat. When he discovers the Dolphin Hotel's fabled room 1408, with over 50 recorded deaths, he sets out for his first real encounter with the terrifying affects of the paranormal.
Which situates 1408 within the fable category of the thriller/horror genre. Rather than horror for horror's sake (see Rob Zombie's Halloween later this summer), 1408 has a moral dimension that its protagonist must face in order to challenge his nightmare. This moral dimension synthesizes well with the tame and frightening drama and allows 1408 to function as a successful introductory fright flick for those curious about the genre. While the ending can be thought of as a more docile version of John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, the ambience established throughout is of the cutesy variety that contains an horrific agenda of its own, depending upon the status of your belief in biblical good and evil, or, the intensity of your faith.
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