In fanboy casting news, Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass is a go at New Line under director Chris Weitz, with newcomer Dakota Blue Richards cast in the role of Lyra. Also, Johnny Depp joins Will Smith in I am Legend (a.k.a. The Omega Man, for those who haven’t read the Matheson novella), likely as Smith’s neighbor, and head of the vampires. That casting should significantly increase the fun factor.
Category: Cinema
Bots and Bugs.
Elsewhere, Michael Bay’s big-budget version of The Transformers gets a teaser (hopefully the robots work better than the website), and Spiderman 3 gets spoiled rotten over at Dark Horizons — Seriously, don’t go if you don’t want to know.
My Super Ex-Boyfriend.
“You don’t really love that guy you make it with now do you?” Despite a nice throwback credit sequence to kick things off, and several iconic images of the man in blue throughout, Bryan Singer’s Superman Returns is, unfortunately, something of a disappointment. It’s by no means a travesty, like X3 — the FX are top-notch, and the movie does feel like some care went into it. Still, for most of its run, Superman Returns, while hearkening often to the 1978 original and its excellent 1980 sequel, never really reaches the heights of those first two films. Instead, this “requel” feels, for the most part, drab, leaden, and earthbound, and, at best, plays like a badly-paced bodice ripper (or perhaps a forgotten issue of Superman’s Girlfriend, Lois Lane.)
Like I said, Superman Returns starts off well, with a brief look at Krypton’s fate, kryptonite’s origins, and a whirlwind intergalactic tour of a credits sequence (all of which bodes well for a quality Silver Surfer or Darkseid v. Supes movie someday.) But, soon thereafter, trouble arises. We’re treated to a jokey Anna Nicole Smith-ish re-introduction to Lex Luthor (Kevin Spacey, who never gets the tone quite right — he’s either too whimsical or too dark), some Americana flashbacks of Superman’s youth in — and return after five years to — the archetypal Midwest, Luthor’s visit to the Fortress of Solitude and subsequent experimentation with Kryptonian technology, and finally Clark Kent’s reemergence in Metropolis and the newsroom of the Daily Planet, still presided over by Perry White (Frank Langella) and staffed by Lois Lane (Kate Bosworth) and Superman’s pal, Jimmy Olsen (Sam Huntington). Frankly, all of this section of the movie takes too long — it seems forever and a day before Superman (Brandon Routh, both better and less Rushmore-esque than I expected) is finally moved to action by a Space Shuttle incident (one involving, of course, Lois.)
I’d like to say the film then finds its momentum, then…but, sadly, it really doesn’t. For one, Luthor’s diabolical master plan — involving growing craggy Kryptonian real-estate that will submerge North America — doesn’t make a lick of sense. But, more problematically, the central questions driving Singer’s Superman, IMHO, just aren’t all that interesting. Will Lois rediscover her deeply-buried love for Superman, the “one that got away,” or will she stay true to her good-hearted current beau, Richard (James Marsden, a.k.a. Cyclops, here blessed with Superempathy)? Can Superman make peace with Lois’s new life (or, at the very least, will he stop superstalking her happy household?) And where does Lois’s doe-eyed child — yep, cute kid alert — fit into all this? (Take a guess.) Not to put too fine a point on it, but, in essence, what Singer has made here is a Superman mythos chick flick, and not a very good one at that.
This is not to say that I only wanted to see Superman crush things for two hours. As sappy and unrealistic as it is, the love triangle that dominates this film might’ve worked in another context (or with another character — This type of thing works better in Sam Raimi’s Spiderman series, but Spidey is generally a more angst-ridden superhero anyway.) But, as it stands, the Harlequin Romance nature of this enterprise, as well as the languid pacing and Luthor’s completely absurd stratagem, are like kryptonite here. Superman Returns looks good, and I’d be up to see Routh don the tights again for another outing. But, as a reboot of DC’s most famous franchise, the movie is passable at best (and it has nothing on Christopher Nolan’s much more enjoyable Batman Begins.)
Snakes in a Trailer.
Samuel Jackson. Snakes. Plane.. What else is there to say? (Juliana Margulies, perhaps?)
Spider & I.
Also in the trailer bin, Venom gets his curtain call in the impressive and much-awaited new teaser for Spiderman 3, appearing in front of Superman Returns tomorrow. (A better Quicktime version is due later today) Update: Here it is!
Return of the Shadow.
“Until when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer…” Breaking news from Gondor: The first of what promises to be many re-issues of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy happens August 29, when all three films will be re-released as 2-disc sets ($28.98 each.) “For each film, disc one presents both the theatrical version of the film and its extended edition through seamless branching, while disc two features an intimate, never-before-seen documentary created by Costa Botes. The feature-length documentaries, with more than 300 minutes of never-before-available footage, focus on a number of complexities and circumstances [that] affected the making of the movies.” Since I own both the theatrical cuts and three extended versions, I really have no business buying these, particularly as they don’t seem to include the much-noted blooper reels or any of the still-missing footage (The Watchers of Cirith Ungol, for example.) But the hearts of Men are easily corrupted, and the Ring of Power has a will of its own.
In Our Country, there is Problem.
In the trailer bin, Sasha Baron Cohen channels everyone’s favorite’s Kazakhstanian in the new teaser for Borat (a.k.a. “Cultural Learnings for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” — Take that unwieldy subtitle, “The Last Stand.”) Respec’.
Iorek, Norrin, & Co.
AICN posts some pics from the big licensing show in NYC, which includes some impressive looking bears from The Golden Compass, as well as posters for Spiderman 3, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (apparently, the ’70’s hair is out), Dreamworks’ Kung Fu Panda, and (gulp) Fantastic Four and the Silver Surfer.
E for Escapist.
“Quick answers (as of this date): Golem: yes. Antarctica: yes. Gay love story: yes. Ruins of World’s Fair: no. Long Island: no. Orson Welles: no. Salvador Dali: yes. Loving reference to Betty and Veronica: no. Stan Lee: no.” Author Michael Chabon blogs in to say, among other things, that Natalie Portman is likely Rosa in the forthcoming film version of Kavalier & Klay, to be directed by Stephen Daldry.
Middle of the Road.
First, a disclaimer: While I’m always up for a road trip, for whatever reason — and despite growing up next to the Darlington 500 — I never really acquired an appreciation for NASCAR, or for car culture in general. Still, I’d say the review consensus on Cars, Disney and Pixar’s recent foray into CGI entertainment for the red states, is basically on the money: While not nearly a classic on the order of the Toy Stories or The Incredibles, this visual marvel does make for an enjoyable summer jaunt, even if it feels more than a bit by-the-numbers for most of its run. The movie hits all its beats (albeit somewhat languidly) and kids, particularly those of the Hot Wheels persuasion, are sure to love it — John Lassiter & co. don’t drop the ball here by any means. Still, one can’t help but get the lingering sense from Cars that the tank on Pixar’s incredible creative ride may be in need of a fill-up.
In terms of story, Cars is basically Days of Thunder meets Doc Hollywood: On his way cross-country to the most important race of the year, Lightning McQueen, a hotshot young rookie racer on the Piston Cup circuit (Owen Wilson, whose trademark whine starts to grate after awhile), makes an inadvertent pit-stop in Radiator Springs, a sleepy little town languishing on a forgotten stretch of the Mother Road, Route 66. Impounded for reckless driving and forced into community service by the gruff town elder, a Hudson Hornet (Paul Newman), McQueen finds himself having to spend crucial race-prep days repaving the village thoroughfare. But, fret not — as it turns out, the self-absorbed, vainglorious McQueen may just learn a thing or two about life and the true spirit of racing from the locals, which include, among others, a redneck tow truck (Larry the Cable Guy), a Ferrari-loving Fiat (Tony Shalhoub), a hippie VW bus (George Carlin) and, if you’re into that sort of thing, an alluring Porsche lawyer (Bonnie Hunt). All well and good, but can McQueen still make the big race in time, defeat his mustachi-grilled nemesis (Michael Keaton), and win the glory and sponsorship he’s been so desperately seeking?
Take a guess. Still, one shouldn’t fault Cars for being somewhat pat — it is, after all, a kid’s movie, and, as the film points out, the journey should matter more than the destination anyway. That being said, despite its hyperkinetic opening and for all its many breathtaking visual flourishes (note particularly both the wide-angle western landscapes and the eye-popping neon of Radiator Springs at night), Cars definitely bogs down for most of the middle laps, amid several interminably long stretches of rote character development. (By the way, as the mind wanders while these animated cars talk to each other in been-there, done-that platitudes, it occasionally becomes hard not to see them instead as weird immersion tanks for floating eyeballs — you’ll see what I mean.) To be fair, by the standards of most animated films, Cars is still in a class above the rest. But, given that this is Pixar we’re talking about, it’s hard not to expect a little more ingenuity throughout. (Also, while it may be ludicrous to discuss issues of political economy here, Cars wants it both ways: Apparently small-town folk are more wise and virtuous than their city-car contemporaries, but Radiator Springs’ major beef is that they’re no longer a big city. Ah well…I guess The Incredibles had similar problems.)
