JD Hansel

Tomorrowland Review

June 5, 2015 by JD Hansel

When approximately 22 minutes had passed, the critics checked out. The first trailer for the film, which screamed with unwarranted mediocrity, instantly brewed a batch of immense apathy in the moviegoers’ heads. The marketing was dreadful, so the critics were eagerly awaiting the chance to convict the movie of being dreadful as well. They got their chance about 22 minutes in, when the film reaches the pinnacle of preachy. All of the teachers tell the high school students that doom is inevitable – the end is near – and while our optimistic protagonist raises her hand to argue, they all choose to ignore her. When she finally is given the chance to speak, she asks the obvious question, “Can we fix it?” The teacher is stumped by the question, because apparently everyone in this movie lives in a world where no one has bothered to ask what we can do to make the world better.

But that’s not where the story really starts. Let’s start earlier, at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. Yes, the film starts there, at what was perhaps the biggest display of optimism about the future in history. The movie starts (as more Disney films should) by getting us excited about the movie we’re starting to watch, and giving us a dose of nostalgia while playing great Sherman Brothers music is a really good way to do that. This is where audio-animatronics were revealed to the public, most notably in the attraction “It’s a Small World,” which is where audio-animatronic children can transport people to another dimension. … No, really, that’s the ride’s purpose according to this movie. It takes them to a dimension where cliché visions of the future are re-hashed with gray CGI, creating a world of half-hearted semi-wonder, with a side of Diet Whimsy. However, when viewed through the eyes of the child we’re following, Frank, there is some wonder to be found in it. Fortunately, there are a few clever details and touches that seem rather original – especially the magic floating swimming pools – which make the clichés far more bearable than one would expect from just watching the trailer.

This, however, is not the focus of the film. The focus of the film is Hugh Laurie’s speech at the end. The entirety of the film builds up to the moment when he finally explains what has been going on this whole time. Essentially, visions of what will happen at the end of the world have been subtly broadcast directly into the minds of the people of earth. This should obviously be a wake-up call to get to work on fixing the problem, but instead, humans acted like humans. They ate it up, they yelled and fussed and complained about it, they preached that the end was near, and in the end, it became an excuse. It became an excuse to act like they cared about what was important, while in reality they used what could have been a great chance to do some good as a chance to be lazy.

The cleverness of the film is that the whole movie builds up to the unveiling of a self-fulfilling prophecy machine (arguably a sci-fi equivalent to American cable news), and ultimately humankind is more to blame for the end of the world than any villain. The problem with the film is in the delivery of this great concept. The use of real people, places, and events creates the sense that Tomorrowland is trying to depict the real world somewhat accurately. This becomes a problem nine minutes in when “It’s a Small World” has a secret built-in tunnel to another dimension, at which point the suspension of disbelief is gone since not even Disney could pull of such a feat in the 1960s. However, this part of the movie was not absurdist enough to effectively communicate to the audience the message they needed to hear: “THIS IS NOT YOUR WORLD; it’s a silly caricature of it.”

But Disney wouldn’t be brave enough to say that, would they? Naturally, they think they must make the audience believe that it is the world we’re living in so that we’re shocked. Disney seems to think we won’t be invested in the film if what’s on screen is too surrealistic. Therein lies the irony – the movie itself becomes the machine it antagonizes by saying, “This is reality and it stinks,” rather than saying, “This could be reality.” (As if that isn’t bad enough, it commits an even worse crime by saying that our reality includes certain special people who inevitably improve the world. So if I, the viewer, don’t think I’m one of those people, why would I feel motivated to make the world a better place?) This could have been avoided had the film been an absurdist comedy, creating a world with obviously stupid caricatures of mankind, which takes away the preachy tone, while simultaneously allowing the filmmakers to scream to the world, “DON’T YOU DARE LET YOUR WORLD BE ANYTHING LIKE THIS LUDICROUS ONE.”

To be fair, there are other interesting elements of the film to discuss as well, such as the clever concept of a society where all the world’s geniuses got together in another dimension. In terms of characters, I find it hard to believe that the lead actress is a genius, but I suppose she at least does a decent job at making the character likable. Frank’s a pretty good character on the whole, and Hugh Laurie does a nice job with his part too, but none of them are as charming or impressive as Raffey Cassidy, who plays the little girl named “Athena.” She’s kind of amazing, and I really like this character, but I spent half the movie waiting for the writers to kill her off since I could tell they’d do it eventually. Her death was probably the most predictable part of the story though, as most of the film kept me wondering what was going to happen next. The movie surprisingly handles exposition well using the old trick of making the audience want answers, and then providing them, rather than explaining to the audience what we haven’t asked to have explained. Still, part of why the story took interesting and surprising turns that kept me wanting answers is the lack of any logic in the story whatsoever. I was constantly finding things that the robotic characters, being computers at heart, should have handled much more logically, so I felt more like I was watching a to-be-CinemaSins than a Disney classic – another issue that could have been dodged with a tongue-in-cheek approach.

Still, at the heart of the film is its message, and while the message seems straightforward, I don’t think the critics and I agree on what the message is. The message I choose to take from the film is that I need to get off my butt, roll up my sleeves, and get to work on making the world a better place, but I suspect that that resonated with me since I’ve already felt that way for so long. For the average viewer, I fear that this may not have been received the same way. There is always a danger in an optimistic message as such messages tend to ignore reality and substitute it with the way they’d like to see the world. This movie is, to some degree, guilty of ignoring reality, which does bother me. It does, however, use clever ideas, a fun story, and interesting characters to give the world the slap in the face it needs and say, “You have no excuse now – go get to work and make the world better.”

The Commenting Editor Technique

June 2, 2015 by JD Hansel

While a film is by no means the sum of its parts, it is probably safe to say that a film is the edited union of its parts. The editing can determine the nature or genre of a film, the film’s pace, an actor’s performance, the order of the story, and much more. The editor is rarely noticed, however, for two main reasons. The first is that a film is very much seen by audiences today – especially by critics and movie buffs – as being the vision of the director. So, if the editor determines the essence of a film, people with naturally attribute the essence of the film to the director, thus ignoring the editor completely. Secondly, part of the editor’s job is to remain unnoticed, in much the same way that it is a puppeteer’s job to remain unseen as he/she performs. I expect, however, that we have reached a level of video literacy at which we can soon expect to see the film editors break a new kind of fourth wall and blatantly converse with the audience.

Along similar lines, it is traditionally bad form for the camerawork to be done in such a way that the audience is conscious of the camera, and the goal in film was, for many decades, to make the camera unnoticed. (This is comparable to the way that the lighting crew in a theatrical production is essential to making the performance visible/possible, but is seldom noticed unless it makes a big mistake.) In recent years, we have seen experiments in filmmaking in which the audience is supposed to be conscious of the camera, particularly in the genre of found footage horror films. This new direction is possible only because we are used to seeing the camera since the innovation of home video, in which awareness of the camera is nearly inevitable. It follows that one would expect an innovation to become popular that makes viewers aware of the editor, which will allow for movies that mimic the same techniques. I propose that this innovation does exist, and it is online video.

To best explain what online video means for the evolution of film editing, I should clarify what I do and do not mean in regards to an editor conversing with the audience. I am not merely talking about films in which the editing style is unique, drawing attention to itself. Films such as the 2008 Speed Racer film or the works of Robert Rodriguez are not necessarily conversational in nature. Annie Hall comes much closer to a talkative editor in the scene in which Woody Allen and Diane Keaton have one conversation while subtitles show what they truly want to say, but this still comes across as the voice of writer/director Woody Allen. Television has come close by using frequent cutaways in shows such as Family Guy, but these feel very much like they are a part of the pre-production and animation/production phases, and they are not primarily editing. The Colbert Report used a regular segment called “The Wørd” to provide a sort of visual commentary on what Colbert said, and while this may be a little too involved in the pre-production and production (a.k.a. principal photography) phases, this does succeed in providing a form of “editor’s commentary,” which is what has become a big part of online video.

Online, it is common to see a video or YouTube channel that has a host-to-viewer format, such as the PBS Idea Channel, using little pictures, GIFs, and other brief visuals to not only depict what the host is saying, but to comment on it. This takes the type of commenting common on social media, in which a the Ben Stiller “post for ants” meme might be used to comment on a post that’s not legible, and makes it a part of the post itself. On YouTube it’s common to see a picture flash on screen for half a second just to make a joke, even though the picture is not necessary for the speaker to make his/her point, or for the story to be told. Rather, these very brief visual gags are comments on the video more than they are a part of it, since they are not usually diegetic in nature. This is actually very similar to a director’s audio commentary on a film, except an editor’s commentary is generally not continuous throughout, and is a part of the video instead of being a bonus feature.

If I must give specific criteria, an editor’s commentary is:

post-production-driven,
non-diegetic,
not a part of telling the work’s main story,
nonessential to the clarity of the work,
not long enough to be its own scene.

For example, when a character in a movie notes that everyone is freezing, a picture of Elsa might flash on screen for a split second. When characters discuss their favorite science fiction films, the scene might conclude with a Star Wars-esque wipe transition. When a scene begins with lots of text to read on screen, the CinemaSins “ding” sound might be heard. When an actor flubs a line, the mistake can be left in and just corrected later by cutting to a frame with a title joking about what he meant to say (which is pretty much what they did for a little documentary about Star Trek IV when one of the interviewees mixed up his words a little). There are plenty of ways to do it creatively and in a style unique to the editor and director making the film.

While the possibilities are theoretically endless, the concept of the Commenting Editor is limited in a few ways. First of all, it should probably be used sparingly and carefully so it doesn’t become gimmicky. Secondly, there is great difficulty in doing this in such a way that the commentary is nearly exclusively created in the realm of post-production where the editor is king. If it is not very exclusive to this realm, the other areas (where the writer and director are supposedly the rulers) will receive the attribution. Whenever clever text is put up on screen, it is assumed to be clever writing, and the goal is to create the sense that the editing is clever, even if the editor’s comments are written into the script. The main limitation, however, is that the Commenting Editor is comedic in nature, and I don’t see it working well for anything but comedy.

The comedy in the Commenting Editor concept comes from both the fact that the viewers must quickly make connections, causing their brains to trip over themselves, as is the case with most jokes, and the fact that the editor has broken the unspoken rules. Since everyone knows that no one is supposed to talk during the movie, there is something chaotic and comedic about the editor himself (or herself) stepping out of the film to talk about the movie the whole time. While this concept could add to the aesthetic distance by reminding the viewers that they are watching an edited production, it could also decrease aesthetic distance by putting the editor in the audience, joining the viewers in the experience. This would make for a fascinating and important development in film because it creates a kind of movie that is self-aware, but not just by breaking the fourth wall. If a movie is essentially the editing, the movie can become a character of its own by talking to the audience about itself, and the viewers will not only enjoy the experience of relating to the characters in the film, but also the experience of conversing with the film itself.

(Monty Python’s) Life of Brian Review

June 2, 2015 by JD Hansel

This film is not sacrilegious. This film is not about Jesus. It is about the importance of rationally thinking for oneself rather than just accepting what others say is true. It mocks group think, pokes fun at activists, and challenges people to be critical thinkers, making it very much the skeptic’s film. In fact, Pythoner John Cleese has said that a number of Christians have told him how much they enjoyed the film, because they understood that making fun of religion is not the point. Cleese has also gone on record saying that he has always thought Life of Brian would be considered the best Python film ever made, but I have to ask myself, would I say such a thing? Well, let’s analyze the story, characters, and comedy, comparing it to what has been my favorite of the Python productions, Holy Grail.

In terms of story, Brian works better. Its story has far more structure to it, and the plot is more conflict driven, with a narrative that would work well even if it was not a comedy piece. The pace is actually a little slow, but it’s still a very interesting story on the whole. The main character, Brian, has much more reality than King Arthur, making for more investment in a relatable character. This also lends itself to a great comedic situation as Brian is a voice of reason in a world of lunatics, and no one really listens to him. Also, the supporting characters are fun, will-written, and performed excellently, but this film is still not as fun or funny as I had hoped.

There was little to make me fall out of my chair laughing, but most of the movie did manage to put a smile on my face or get a chuckle out of me. Part of the problem was the culture-specific jokes throughout, such as the parody of the British political activist groups at the time, and the jokes based on the Pythoners’ mutual experience with learning Latin in school – something that is not as common in the US. In a way, the film is more of a tragicomedy than a comedy, largely because the audience cares a bit too much for Brian to be okay with his suffering (or at least I did). I tend to be very empathetic concerning movie characters I like, so I was legitimately happy when Brian was happy, but in turn, some of what he dealt with was hard to watch. Particularly the stupid people who didn’t really listen to him no matter how well he communicated – I knew I was supposed to laugh, and I suppose I did some, but I couldn’t help but empathize with his misery too much.

Comedy is a tricky thing since it requires keeping people interested in what the characters endure without letting them get too invested. So, in the end, I do not find Life of Brian to be their funniest film. I do, however, think it’s Monty Python’s most important film. I cannot help but respect this movie immensely for making a piece that helps us see why we must be critical thinkers, while making us smile at giggle at the same time. This film serves as a perfect example of how to make a message movie: its focus is on a strong character in an interesting situation; it makes it clear that this is not our world, but rather an absurd variation on our world; it is not at all preachy, but instead puts fun first; the audience is left smiling, but still thinking about the nature of humanity.

For this reason, I highly recommend the film to everyone, because in a way, it may be Monty Python’s finest achievement. (Not to mention, “Bright Side” is pretty great.)

P.S. My next movie review concerns another message movie that needed to learn a lesson or two from Life of Brian, so stay tuned . . . .

Mad Max: Fury Road Review

May 30, 2015 by JD Hansel

Okay, let’s do something weird. Let’s compare Mad Max: Fury Road to Avengers: Age of Ultron. I think this is an interesting comparison since they’re both sequels in big action movie franchises that happen to be out in theaters at the same time right now. They both have large fan bases since their characters have been around for many decades. What makes this comparison especially interesting is that they both have simple, largely cliché storylines that we are all familiar with, but everyone seems to be mostly okay with this since a strong, unique story is not the focus of either film.

As I noted in my review of the Avengers sequel, Age of Ultron’s story seems to be an excuse for the characters to play off of one another, and that is the story’s only purpose. The story is not meant to surprise and wow, but there is the obligatory surprise death, as well as some unique twists and turns in the story to make it more interesting. Fury Road is fascinating since the story is an excuse to do some crazy action sequences. The story is simply about getting from point A to point B, then back to point A. Again, there are some surprises and unique touches, and this film does go out of its way to add several clever little details that make its post-apocalyptic world absolutely ingenious.

That being said, there is a serious problem in this focusing choice. As I have said before, you can say that film is a visual medium, but the medium is really about telling stories. At the heart of a story are its characters, so it follows that an old, cliché story can be made new and interesting just by having strong characters driving the story, as seen in Age of Ultron. (It is incredibly important that the audience is invested in the characters in order for this to work, and the investment must not be exclusively from circumstances, or else the empathy may run out when the circumstances change as the story turns.) So, there is danger to putting characters over story, but it can be done well, which I cannot say for putting action and visuals over both story and characters. This focus puts the technical aspects involved in achieving investment in the characters and story over the investment itself, which is rather silly.

In regards to very visual-oriented films, I have three main criticisms, all of which can be avoided if a visual film is very careful. First of all, visual storytelling is very desirable only if the story is worth telling in the first place. Secondly, there’s an old saying that reminds me of the place of visuals in film: “Computer Science is no more about computers than astronomy is about telescopes.” What concerns me whenever I hear someone say that film is a visual medium is that they may get the impression that film is about the visuals, even though visuals are merely film’s means of expression, which I know because of the meaning of the concept of communication itself. Third, what is the purpose of a beautiful window that looks out to nothing but a brick wall?

The question that must now be asked, as I have been asking myself that since I saw the first ten minutes of the film, is this: is Mad Max guilty of the pitfalls mentioned above? Well, addressing the first crime, the story may very well be worth telling, but it has actually been told before. The plot can basically be summarized as follows: a girl escapes her dreary civilization and goes on a journey with some friends and new acquaintances to get to a beautiful green place where their dreams can come true, only to go right back home to where she started in the first place. That is the plot to The Wizard of Oz. Oz also had a brilliant visual style, but people remember the characters, and what the characters said, far more than the visual style, which I don’t think could ever be said for a film like Mad Max. In regards to the second and third criticisms, the point of the film, from what I can tell, was to make a good-looking action movie, and everything else was secondary. So, yes, it is very guilty.

I suppose that means I should hate this movie, but I don’t. Throughout the movie, I was constantly experiencing overwhelming admiration, which is a credit to the film. That being said, what I wanted to experience was not only admiration, but entertainment, and that was lacking because of the criticisms explained above. Compare this to Frank Oz’s Little Shop of Horrors, which is visually excellent, but the visuals are always serving to express the mood of the piece, the context of the story, the emotions of the characters, the theme of the music, and other elements that make the story work better. In Mad Max, I see the visuals serving to create an interesting and visually amazing context for the story, but the story still seems to be lacking. Part of this is due to the characters.

Many of the characters are just fine, but there were few who really made me care about whether they lived or died. The titular character, Max, was not one of the few. As noted in the Walker brothers’ fantastic review of this film, Max is really more of an observer than anything else, and he could essentially be played by anyone. By the end of the movie, viewers should ask themselves, “What do I really remember about Max that makes him unique?” The answer is probably, “very little,” which is unfortunate. The real protagonist in the film, Furiosa, is a bit more interesting, but not by all that much. The best scene in the movie, however, is a short scene in which the film actually takes a breather (thank heavens) and allows for a nice conversation between Nux and Capable, which made me finally CARE about some of the characters.

My final point, which I once again borrow from the Walker brothers’ review, is that this movie is a great experiment. Much like with Pulp Fiction, I like it a lot as an experiment or project, but I have a hard time calling it a movie. This is so vastly different from my schema of movies (or at least good movies) since I have always seen the movie theater as a temple built to glorify great storytelling, and I do not see Mad Max as such. I do see Mad Max: Fury Road as being great art, and a groundbreaking achievement in cinema. I admire and respect what it brings to the table for moviegoers and filmmakers, and I hope it will lead to many great action movies in the future, which is why I recommend that fans of film see it. (Not to mention, everyone must see the guy with the fiery guitar, who adds a lot to the already impressive soundtrack.) However, I will continue to criticize the film harshly because I stand by my strong ideology that people do not go into a movie theater to watch a movie, but rather to experience a story.

The Rocketeer Review

May 24, 2015 by JD Hansel

(MINOR SPOILERS)

I really like Timothy Dalton. I greatly enjoy watching Jennifer Connelly. This movie was recommended to me by a friend, and I was pretty sure I would love it. Unfortunately, the movie was largely dull and uninteresting for the first half. The protagonist was a bore, and the antagonist was honestly more likable and charming. The concept could have been very interesting, but I just couldn’t get into it for quite some time.

Then, much like in Hannah and Her Sisters, there was a redeeming scene. Finally, when the story was starting to get interesting, they gave a scene to Jennifer Connelly’s character, who had to give the best performance of her life. The scene was an absolute delight, largely because I could finally focus on a couple of the characters that mattered to me. Seeing this scene in this movie felt like the geeky kid on the sidelines had just jumped up and did a slam dunk, so I couldn’t help but applaud.

On the whole, it’s not a bad movie. Some of the characters are interesting, the concept is rather unique, the screenplay gets better and better throughout, the visuals and soundtrack are frequently impressive, and I could easily see why someone would really like this movie. For me, however, I like a protagonist who’s likable. Say what you want about film being a visual medium, but let’s not forget that visuals alone are not the point – otherwise you could just go to a Smithsonian art museum for free and see better visuals than most great films have to offer. The point is storytelling, and at the heart of every story are its characters. If the movie had a stronger main character, the story would have been much stronger, which would have made the film rise above “okay.” The one redeeming scene, however, earned this film an extra half a star above par.

Avengers: Age of Ultron Review

May 20, 2015 by JD Hansel

First of all, everyone needs to see the first Avengers movie, preferably after seeingCaptain America and Iron Man. Then, watch Avengers, and after that, Capt 2 and maybe a few of the others in between. After that, you care about all the characters in Avengers: Age of Ultron. That’s really all that matters with this movie.

The movie is an excuse to hang out with the characters. That’s all. The story is not really special, and the visuals are typical for this kind of film. (I will give it props for its excellent opening, which is very impressive, but I prefer the look of the current Daredevil series to the look of the Avengers films.) The movie is really a blast so long as you really enjoy seeing what the characters throw at one another (figuratively and literally) and you enjoy good bantering, drama, one liners, and character development. The story is, at the very least, set up so that the audience is very interested in seeing what the characters will do next, and how they’ll get out of tricky situations. It’s a fun summer movie, and that’s all it needed to be. I highly recommend it.