Three and a Half Stars

Colonia/The Colony Review

July 30, 2016 by JD Hansel

Note how my title for this article accounts for two alternate titles for the film. When I watched this movie through the library not too long ago, it had yet to be released in theaters in the United Kingdom. It was being promoted as The Colony in the UK, but on IMDb, its title was listed only as Colonia, without any reference to the title being promoted across the pond – not even in the page’s “Also Known As” section. At first I wasn’t entirely positive that they were the same movie since IMDb didn’t say they were, which is obviously undesirable for the film’s marketers and distributors. After the film’s UK release, at the time I’m writing this, the page has been updated to show The Colony as the official title at the very top of the page, and Colonia as the “original title” in smaller letters underneath The Colony. Now the “AKA” page is confused, with Colonia listed as the international title, even though that’s not the official title at the top of the main IMDb page. I mention all this nonsense to highlight the fact that this film matters so little to people that nobody has bothered to agree on what the official title is, because nobody cares about it in the slightest – hence why it only made about 60 bucks at the UK box office during opening weekend.

That is just a darn shame.

Rotten Tomatoes shows a score of 23% for this film, but critics ought to know by now how to approach a film of this kind in such a way that they can appreciate its stronger elements. The first obvious thing that everyone should be able to figure out from the trailer (and the poster) is that it’s pseudo-Oscar-bait. It’s got a lot of the elements of an Oscar winner – focus on an unrecognized oppressed people, historical drama, etc. – but is ultimately not thoughtful, artistic, or impressive enough for such an award. It’s a popcorn flick in disguise as something more meaningful. The second thing to recognize right off the bat is that most of it will not be creative or artistic in stylistic approach, instead aiming for a realism that will, in theory, emphasize the sense that these are real, historical events on screen. Third, and perhaps most important of all, is the fact that this is in no way striving for historical accuracy, and hardly even strives to honor those involved in the real events upon which it is based – again, it’s a popcorn flick that’s hiding behind a toupee and a monocle.

Once this is understood, now the film can be enjoyed for what it is. While I have very little patience for the kind of realistic style the film employs, I will say that I think the story is really good. For this reason, I propose that this movie is highly underrated – which is honestly the only reason why I felt the need to review it. The story has a number of elements throughout that are painfully predictable, but that’s partially because it’s hitting all of the notes it needs to in order to have the dramatic irony it seeks. Furthermore, the most important part of the story from an emotional standpoint – that being the fate of our two main characters – is not at all predictable.

I was on the edge of my seat, intensely concerned for what would happen to the protagonists, not only until the climax, but until the credits rolled. Yeah. That had to happen before I was sure of whether or not they’d make it, and that’s because it’s easy to make the case that either ending is adequately set up. While I’m not sure that it’s a positive sign that the ending was arbitrary from the standpoint of the story’s structure and what it necessitated, the effect was ultimately a good one – I got a thrill, and few movies can give me the kind of thrill that this one did. Consequently, I say the movie gives all it promises, and perhaps even a little more, so I say it passes.

Moolaadé Review

May 13, 2016 by JD Hansel

Warning – this movie is about topics of a highly sensitive nature, and potential triggers may appear in this review. Proceed with caution.

I feel as though it wouldn’t be right for me to review a film like this one – foreign to me both in terms of geography and experience – without prefacing my commentary with the concession that I am uncultured swine with virtually no knowledge of that which lies outside of my happy little bubble of interests. This means that I lack a proper understanding of the context of the final film of famed director Ousmane Sembène, Moolaadé, which concerns the matter of Africa’s traditions of female genital mutilation. While I do know a little bit about Islam, most of the context I have to help me better understand the film is knowledge of one of this director’s earlier works, Black Girl, which gives me a different perspective than other viewers might have. While there is obviously much in Moolaadé I feel I cannot comment on objectively, the subjective experience of how the movie made me feel is something that I, like all other viewers, am perfectly qualified to express. This will have to be my focus.

I must say that I was not much of a fan of his film Black Girl, and I was so unmoved by it that I never bothered to write a review, fearing I wouldn’t have enough to say. Moolaadé, by contrast, is a very gripping, moving film. Due to the bad subtitles that accompanied the copy of the film I was watching, I struggled to keep track of what was going on, which made it an experience that was not very enjoyable, but I still really appreciated the movie. I was still invested in some of the characters, amused by some of the humor, intrigued by some of the commentary, and very curious about how the story would end, which is enough to make it a good movie. When one then considers the reality and importance of the subject matter, and the way that it’s handled with drama, creativity, and empowering themes of liberation, it’s clear that this film is a special one. It may not be exactly my cup of tea, but I’d still recommend it, because any master of film like Sembène is considered to be would have to be proud to have this fine work of cinema as the finale to his filmography.

The Peanuts Movie Review

April 6, 2016 by JD Hansel

I am fairly certain that, in the world of comedy (if not the world in general), it is a sin for me to say that I have never been much of a Peanuts fan. That’s not to say that I didn’t like the works of the Peanuts characters – I do enjoy their most famous Christmas special, among other staples of Schulz’ work – but I simply wasn’t exposed to them early enough in life to appreciate them the way so many others do. The Peanuts specials and comics have a kind of humor that is generally rather slow and deliberately underwhelming, as it focuses on a mumbling failure who tends to dread living. I certainly do identify with this kind of character, and I greatly appreciate Schulz’s approach to writing for the character, which is summed up in this simple, classic quote of his: “Most of us are much more acquainted with losing than winning.” With this in mind, I can’t help but look at the 2015 Peanuts film as a perfect example of both what it is I love about the Peanuts, and what it is that I just don’t know how to appreciate.

Right from the start, this film was full of surprises. The trailer alone stunned me with the distinction of its animation style, as it is probably the best use of CG animation I have seen since at least Inside Out, if not The Lego Movie. Because of the purity of the style, the film had earned my respect before I had even seen it, but then again, I was unsure as to whether or not it would be worth seeing. I am now glad that I did choose to see the film, because if I thought that the animation style was surprising, I was quite shocked to see how much I enjoyed the humor. No Peanuts production or comic had ever made me laugh so hard, and I think this is largely due to the way most of the jokes relied on the animation style. By doing this as a CG film rather than 2-D, this movie ensures that it does not appear to be a continuation of the old Peanuts specials, but rather an homage to the comedy and animation of older cartoons, making for an experience that’s easy to enjoy. However, both the laughs and the surprises grew fewer and fewer as the movie progressed, and I was bothered to find myself losing interest.

This is the problem. I eventually found myself playing a video game on the Wii U while the film was still on, because there was so little need to pay attention during most of the movie. The plot was predictable enough, so I didn’t really need to keep a close eye out for much, and the overall storytelling approach didn’t interest me much at all. Half of the movie seems to be spent on an irrelevant B-story taking place in Snoopy’s daydreams of chasing the Red Baron, which might have been worth including had they used the classic song, but even the superb sight gags towards the end of his fantasy aren’t quite enough of a pay-off to make it worth my time. The main story, obviously focused on Charlie Brown, was cute and relatable, but was still a little lacking in substance, and could have been over with much quicker. The ‘A’ story could have been a ‘B’ or ‘C’ story, and the Snoopy bits could have been two or three very brief scenes, which would have left room for a stronger ‘A’ story.

All that being said, this is a good movie. It’s fun, clean, and has both the frustration with life and the delightful purity required to make it feel like a classic Peanuts production. Getting a G-rated movie in 2015 was already miraculous, but it’s even more satisfying to find that it’s a good movie that adults can enjoy just as much (or maybe more) than children. It has a lot of charm and heart, which are very hard to generate without being sappy, but this movie does the job just fine. Forgive me for ending on such a cliché, low-hanging joke, but I can’t resist: “You’re a good movie, Charlie Brown.”

Modern Times Review

February 11, 2016 by JD Hansel

It’s really quite fitting that Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times gets the review that follows my review of Brazil. Each one is a crazy comedy that can get rather over the top, but each one is also a social commentary with something to say; namely, these films express frustration with the faulty technology that’s being thrust upon them. This is somewhat noticeable when the Tramp has to work with a conveyor belt that goes too fast, and he ends up getting carried by the conveyor belt into the giant gears that run the machinery in the factory where he works. However, when this attitude is most obvious is when the Tramp is strapped into a machine that feeds the factory workers lunch so that they don’t need to take a lunch break – which sounds just like something Gilliam would have loved to put into Brazil had the idea not been taken already – and of course, it goes berserk. This kind of a film is to be expected from a man who had been very popular in the silent era, but now had virtually no choice but to make sound films (Modern Times being his first go at them). This movie is fascinating because it shows what happens when the man who had universal appeal in silent cinema tries to make a part-talkie so he can adapt to… well, “modern times.”

Overall, I’d say Chaplin did a good job. The story isn’t all that coherent, but since this film comes from an early time in the history of feature-length narrative film, and because the movie had to be tailored to fit the Tramp’s style, I’m willing to be quite forgiving about that. As long as the comedy and the characters work, and as long as sound is used well, I think this movie did what it needed to do; I’d say these goals were all achieved. I was quite surprised by how much I enjoyed Ellen, his leading lady, who brought a lot of energy and excitement to the picture. I was very fascinated by Chaplin’s depiction of the depression, which made me feel like I was looking at an entirely different world from our own. While I don’t think the musical number towards the end is particularly enjoyable, and although I get bothered by how the film jumps around from one situation to a completely different one, I recommend this movie to anyone who likes part-talkies and loves big laughs.

Brazil Review

January 28, 2016 by JD Hansel

SPOILER ALERT

I think I finally understand what happened here! Not what happens in the movie Brazil – I could never understand that – but what happened to Labyrinth and Time Bandits. Some movie buffs and comedy lovers may know that the Monty Python approach to writing movies was generally to come up with different scenes/sketches that would be funny all centered around a general theme, and then a loose story would be created out of stringing the pieces of the movie together. Naturally, when someone who approaches screenwriting this way has the challenge of writing a more traditional narrative story (that’s focused on likable characters dealing with a dramatic plot, even if that drama is not meant to be taken seriously) we can expect issues to arise with the flow of the story. For Labyrinth, Terry Jones’ screenplay had to be doctored in secret by other writers because it needed a lot of work before it could be made into the film Jim wanted (which still had leftover story problems in the end). For Time Bandits, fellow Pythoner Terry Gilliam made a bizarre family film that makes no sense whatsoever, and is often more awkward and convoluted than entertaining. For Brazil, Gilliam made an iconic ’80s movie masterpiece, but it had similar flaws.

Before going any further, I must recognize that this is, in some ways, a brilliant film. As satire, it’s practically perfect in every way, and makes the human race seem hilariously absurd. At some moments, its comedic criticism of war is better than Stanley Kubrick’s. Much of the film is good fun, and the performances are perfect. The world Gilliam created is brilliantly clever, and the visuals are absolutely outstanding. This truly is one of the most beautiful movies I have ever laid eyes upon, as far as visual art is concerned, because the lighting, the colors, the set designs, and the cinematography are all spot-on. It’s a masterful work of art that raises the bar for the genre of comedy films, and I can respect it if people love this movie a heck of a lot more than I do.

I, however, just don’t get it. Every now and again, I encounter a movie that has me saying to myself, “What the heck IS this movie?!” more and more as the film progresses. It’s a very memorable experience, and it usually means that the movie is going to mean a lot to me for a long time, regardless of whether I think of it positively or negatively. This film had that special quality to it like no movie I’ve seen in a long time, if ever, and I can’t help but be reminded of the first time I saw Gremlins 2, one of my favorite films, and the first time I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey, one of my least favorite. As blown away as I was with just how perfect certain elements of the film are, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that the story didn’t make enough sense. Some of that special feeling I mentioned above was coming from a sense of being immensely impressed, but some was coming from being annoyingly confused. I now understand why Roger Ebert only gave Brazil just two stars saying, “This is a confused and unsatisfying film in which the magnitude of the special effects, and the chaotic implications of the plot, make the movie hard work for any audience to follow, let alone appreciate.”

So, my first criticism is that the movie doesn’t make enough sense. What starts off seeming like it offers too little with its minimalist plot (which consists of a man trying to meet the woman he’s seen in his dreams) eventually unravels into a psychedelic acid rock song that’s sad about the loss of friendships and angry with society’s constraints. There is very little correlation between what happens in Sam’s dreams and what he deals with in real life, and this gives the audience too big of a chore when they have to try to find the patterns and the meaning in all this. Heck, even the movie’s title, and its titular song of the same name, don’t seem to be very connected to the film at all. There are just too many things that Gilliam did not communicate as efficiently as one would hope.

My second big criticism is directly tied into the first, as it pertains to the lack of satisfaction. I’m not against a movie that doesn’t end with the characters living happily ever after, but I am against endings that don’t feel “correct.” I may have written a bit too much about this before, but screenwriter Terry Rossio’s rules about how an ending must be set up, inevitable, and yet unexpected are a good way to figure out why one might feel unsatisfied by a movie. If the simplistic plot consists of navigating through a dystopian future to marry a dream-girl, there had better be a good reason for missing the one goal we’re rooting for Sam to achieve, but this Gilliam’s only reason seems to be that he wanted to blow one last raspberry at western governments before he had to step down from his soap box.

I think it’s plain to see that I have mixed feelings about this unique work of art. The various trains of thought that I’ve boarded because of this film are so numerous and labyrinthine that I can reach no final verdict. I can completely respect the opinion that this is one of the greatest motion pictures of all time, and I can equally respect the opinion that this movie is whiny, bitter rubbish. Any efforts to unveil what exactly I feel because of Brazil seem to be disappointingly futile, but perhaps the important thing is that it made me feel, and it did so profusely. When it comes to rating the visuals, however, my feelings are clear: it’s in the 99.9th percentile, A++.

Anastasia Review

January 26, 2016 by JD Hansel

It’s not a documentary. With this type of film, the old saying from Mystery Science Theater 3000 rings true: “Repeat to yourself, ‘It’s just a show; I should really just relax.'” This is the kind of movie that will mean very, very different things to different people, since a historian would be disgusted, but an art student would be impressed, while a composer would be disappointed. Unfortunately, this movie doesn’t mean very much to me, which makes it rather hard to review. I suspect that I feel this way purely because the movie is so normal and ordinary for its genre.

The visuals and animation are, as one would expect from Gary Goldman and Don Bluth, really quite impressive, particularly during the more villainous scenes. However, the visual style still has that feeling of imitating the ’90s Disney look, even right down to copying the shade of green that tends to appear around Disney villains for the scenes with Rasputin. Also, one can expect to find an all-star cast in these films, with an iconic voice for the villain, and Christopher Lloyd provides more than one could ever wish for in a villain. The music is outstandingly standard and ordinary that I can hardly remember any of it now. There are also some aspects of the storyline that have been done to death in family films, and they need to be put to rest – I’m looking at you, “character who leaves the person who cares about him/her because he/she feels unwanted and unworthy in the end.”

That being said, it’s not an unpleasant movie. The characters and story kept me entertained, and some of the artwork kept me entranced. I do wish the soundtrack could have been better, but Rasputin’s big musical number is actually a pretty strong (and unique) villain song, with many thanks to the work of Jim Cummings. The premise alone is one with built-in comedy, and it feels very reminiscent of Mel Brook’s original Producers film. In short, it’s not quite on the same level as many of the Disney pictures from the time, or the same level as many of Bluth’s best works, but I do think it’s a good enough film for the family to have a good time.