Think piece ‘Source Code’ is terrifically paced, sci-fi thriller

April 2, 2011

By Steve Crum

Source Code is best described as a terroristic Groundhog Day, a reference to Harold Ramis’ already classic 1993 comedy-fantasy of a man (Bill Murray) repeatedly reliving the same day. While Source Code is anything but funny, it does involve a guy reliving a seven minute span, again, again, and again. Each time, he hones in closer on a mad bomber, with the goal of preventing detonation.

This is an unconventional think piece, impressively helmed by Duncan Jones, and penned by Ben Ripley (Species III). Reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s Minority Report and Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun, Source Code is pretty much an original, self-described in ads as a “techno-thriller/action” picture. It is one of those movies that might require a second viewing to pick up missed nuances, due to plotting and characterizations.

Intellectual sci-fi fans will love it. The Transformers and Battle: Los Angeles visualists will get headaches from thinking too much.

A dictionary explanation of the term, “source code,” means text written in computer programming language, “specifying actions to be performed by a computer that will be directly read and executed.” Jake Gyllenhaal sensitively portrays Army Captain Colter Stevens. It is he who performs as the “source code,” having to carry out actions ordered by a seemingly nefarious government project, headed by the scientist Dr. Rutledge (Jeffrey Wright), and assisted by Captain Carol Goodwin (Vera Farmiga). Goodwin is the one with whom Stevens communicates most often, remotely, via microphone and computer. In fact, Stevens is entirely by himself in some capsule-like trappings, in uniform, and unable to free himself. From the beginning, it appears he is being experimented upon, and thus confined. His only link is with Goodwin and Rutledge at headquarters.

Of course, that does not count Stevens’ repetitious leaps, much like TV’s Quantum Leap, into a stranger’s (named Shawn) body. Slowly, Stevens discovers the reasons why he is being transported. Looking into a mirror on the train early on, he sees what others see: Shawn’s face. Yet we see Stevens’/Gyllenhaal’s mug. Clever device, this, again lifted from QL. On each return visit to the commuter train, Stevens becomes more familiar with his car’s inhabitants, particularly Christina (Michelle Monahan), the babe who is always sitting across from him. As clues lead Stevens to his objective, Christina becomes, more and more, a vital part of the mission.

Duncan Jones gives Source Code an almost unnerving sense of urgency, while maintaining the mystery surrounding Stevens’ existence. The hows and whys are answered by the triple-twist of a finale, which left at least one viewer at the screening asking me, “Do you understand what we just saw?” I explained it to her, but I won’t reveal it here. Let me amend that by saying, I tried to explain it to her.

There are times, particularly within Stevens’ confined quarters between leaps, that are unbearably claustrophobic–if being unable to get out of a dim, closely walled area bothers you like it does me. There are also times of tender, bittersweet caring, between Stevens and Christina, and Stevens and his father (voiced by Scott Bakula–star of Quantum Leap!).

Clearly, this first major film by rock star David Bowie’s son, Duncan, is a terrific indication of career success.

GRADE: On an A to F Scale: A-
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In and out of court, enjoyable ‘Lincoln Lawyer’ appeals

March 18, 2011

By Steve Crum

The expected news about The Lincoln Lawyer is that star Matthew McConaughey once again bares his rippling chest. The really good news is this is McConaughey’s best film since A Time To Kill, back in 1996, when he played an easygoing lawyer in the Deep South. He is mostly easygoing in Lincoln Lawyer, except this time he is criminal attorney Michael “Mick” Haller, based in Los Angeles, and operating out of the back seat of his chauffeur driven Lincoln Continental.

Sure the car thing is a plot gimmick, as is his NTGUILTY license plate. As is his cool and reliable driver, Earl (Laurence Mason), who doubles as an investigator when things are tight. As is Mick’s close relationship with some tough bikers. (One of their gang is Mick’s client.) Mick is so assuredly collected that he maintains unbelievably positive vibes with his ex, Maggie (Marisa Tomei), who has custody of their little girl, Hayley (Mackenzie Aladjem).

Yet, appearances like the expensive car glitter are deceiving, Mick mostly handles inner city, small time court cases, which translate into paltry cash flow. His confidence, mixed with pricey suits and good looks, help carry the visual ruse. Mick seems to be biding his time, running cross town from one hearing to another. Then real money enters in the form of Beverly Hills playboy Louis Roulet (Ryan Phillippe), who is accused of attempted murder.

As directed by Brad Furman (The Take) and written by John Romano, The Lincoln Lawyer develops into a deftly structured murder mystery with a few action scenes included. Although trial scenes occupy about a third of its nearly two hour run time, Furman balances both Mick’s private and professional life with fast pacing and adept camera work. As the story progresses, Mick Haller’s character changes from a pretty shallow, flim-flam lawyer to shrewd, responsible, and likable human being.

Mick’s attempted murder case segues into a mind game give and take with his client, and it is soon apparent our Lincoln attorney has gotten himself into a precarious, dangerous predicament. It certainly makes Mick question whether the huge retainer is worth it. In the process, he elicits help from his aide Frank Levin (William H. Macy in a small but pivotal role) and Val Valenzuela (John Leguizamo). More so for comedy relief, look for country music star Trace Adkins as Eddie Vogel, leader of the bikers.

As the credits rolled at the end, I was not only surprised about how impressive McConaughey was (and I do enjoy his romantic comedies and action filmography), but I also thought The Lincoln Lawyer would make a good series. Maybe this flick could actually spawn a movie franchise. At the very least, it could work on TV. The gimmickry is in place, reminiscent of Burke’s Law and the chauffeur driven Rolls. Mick’s character is smooth enough for a murder mystery of the week series. Everyone knows how popular attorney shows are these days.

In the meantime, we can enjoy The Lincoln Lawyer’s above average storytelling.
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GRADE: On an A to F Scale: B-
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THE DUKE

March 16, 2011


NOTE: A good friend of mine, Kansas City film critic MARIE ASNER, wrote the following poem about JOHN WAYNE in the 1990’s. The poem is now on display at the John Wayne Birthplace-Museum in Winterset, Iowa. Enjoy.

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THE DUKE
By Marie Asner

Head slowly lowers to blue flannel chest
with chipped buttons and coffee stain.
Stage hands quietly drift past
not touching elbow or boot.
Soft snore fills the air
for those privileged to sit nearby.

Lunch time for the crew,
but the Duke is dreaming
of a green actor with chance
to ride the stagecoach,
fight back leather outlaws
and softly say, “ma’am,”
to feminine hearts around the world.

He stirs and the dream shifts—
his bones were stiff but one last ride
with reins in mouth and two guns blazing
to capture villains with true grit,
and show the world he was still royalty.

The script girl gently clears her throat
and he wakes, rising to full height.
“Let’s go, pilgrims.”
Cast gathers for another take
as swirls of dust lightly brush hand-tooled boots
and the leading lady’s heart flutters.
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Duke Wayne narrates America, Why I Love Her: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQM1oLnMLNU
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Keeping (sound) track of the movies

March 1, 2011

NOTE: FILM COMPOSER JOHN BARRY’S DEATH ON JANUARY 20, 2011 PROMPTED THE FOLLOWING PIECE.
 
By Steve Crum
 
John Barry’s music coincided with, and helped perpetuate, my love of motion pictures. It was not until 1962 and Dr. No, when I was 15, that the movie score became integral for me in connecting with a given film.
 
That same year, Maurice Jarre’s Lawrence of Arabia soundtrack music cemented my appreciation for film music, which exists more than ever today. On a more subliminal level my fond recollection of Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s compelling score for King’s Row dates to my preteen years, when I first saw the movie on TV. (OK, The Wizard of Oz and Disney animated musicals jam my recollections too, but we are talking scoring for non-musicals here.)
 
Realize too that until the dawn of Beta and VHS tapes, in 1975 and ’77, respectively, the only way to rent or “own” a favorite movie was via its soundtrack LP record. It is also true that one could, from the early 1950’s, audio tape an entire movie from TV, using a reel-to-reel tape recorder. This is something I did as well using my father’s machine, even though the tape would often run out before the movie ended. In those days, movies shown on TV were at least two decades old, not current like today. More extravagant budget types would collect movies, both old and relatively new, on 8 or 16 mm.
 
For the dollar challenged like yours truly, however, listening to a soundtrack album was the nearest thing to reliving a film recently seen in a theater. Listening conjured the movie’s images and dialogue, which was far better than relying solely on one’s memory. During radio’s golden era, pre-TV listeners did just that. They listened. From Charlie McCarthy to Jack Benny to dramatic programs like Suspense, listeners’ imaginations provided visuals to this solely audio medium. Radio writer/producer Arch Oboler called it, “Theater of the Mind.” (Many film composers, like Bernard Herrmann and Jerry Goldsmith, launched their careers as composers for radio programs.)
 
Likewise, listening to soundtrack music triggers image and dialogue from any particular film–but only if the music is catchy, identifiable, and emotionally involving. The composer’s genius of interpretation and translation is key.
 
Plus, you could look at the album’s cover and liner notes to add to the illusion. A few albums included snippets of dialogue from the movie: The Odd Couple, along with Neal Hefti’s score; and Little Big Man, with a bountiful amount of dialogue, complemented by John Paul Hammond’s music, among them. Two LP’s were produced of the Elizabeth Taylor-Richard Burton starring vehicle, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, based on Edward Albee’s play. One featured Alex North’s music only; the other, a double-LP, included all dialogue from the film. Both were simultaneously released by Warner Bros.
 
Record album tracks, like today’s CD tracks, were titled after specific scenes or themes. Barry’s Thunderball soundtrack album, for example, includes the track, Mr. Kiss-Kiss, Bang-Bang, a reference both to a character and a line of dialogue. Musical themes date back to the beginning of sound movies, even to silents. Max Steiner’s Tara’s Theme, from 1939’s Gone With the Wind, is by no means the first to emotionalize a person or thing (in this case, the O’Hara mansion). In 1915, D. W. Griffith’s silent classic, Birth of a Nation, included an original score by Joseph Carl Breil that was played by musicians in the movie theater during the film’s showing. Birth’s love theme was later adapted as the signature music for radio and TV’s popular, albeit controversial, Amos ‘n Andy.
 
Even without background music underscoring my words in this piece, surely my love for film scores is obvious.Of the 20 or so great film composers, my most admired and collected are a foursome: Elmer Bernstein, John Barry, Jerry Goldsmith, and Bernard Herrmann. God knows there are also hours of Rosza, Williams, Copland, Korngold, Waxman, Mancini, Steiner, Elfman, and Jarre in my abode. Maurice Jarre, in fact, nearly makes the final four with his magnificent rendering of Lawrence of Arabia alone.
 
In the heyday of collecting, my soundtrack LP’s numbered at 600+. That number has been reduced, due to economic, technological, and space reasons. Still, there are about 150 LP’s resting upright in plastic protectors, in my closet. These remaining albums are the rarest of the rare, until iTunes or commercial CD’s replace them. My Jerome Moross-composed The Cardinal used to be a lost soundtrack until iTunes recently made it available again via download.
 
Autographed soundtrack albums are rare, but I do have a CD of the Civil War epic, Gettysburg, signed by composer Randy Edelman. What I would not give for the soundtrack LP of 1956’s Forbidden Planet, signed on the cover by its composers, Louis and Bebe Barron. Their electronically produced music, with a Moog-ish sound, is considered an ahead-of-its-time classic due to its “electronic tonalities.” I bought this rarity via A-1 Record Finders, approximately 40 years ago, as a gift for a close friend. When he unexpectedly died two years ago, the Forbidden Planet album was among the items either sold or kept by his cousins. Let us hope it was not part of a dollar a handful, garage sale. Or, worse yet, that it was discarded. If someone now owns it, he or she has a gem of a collectible.
 
The same goes for my late friend’s vintage, still-in-the-box, Forbidden Planet “Robby the Robot” toy. Heavens to Morbius!
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Sit back and savor these tributes to two of the greatest film composers of all time…
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Neeson searches for identity in thrill ride ‘Unknown’

February 18, 2011

By Steve Crum

In Unknown, Liam Neeson’s strong willed, righteous character goes on a tear against forces threatening both a loved one and himself. Er, wait a second. That describes Neeson’s 2008 flick, Taken–yet another double-syllabled, purposely vague movie title. But wait, there’s more. It also describes his current thriller, Unknown–with some differences. (A past box office hit can’t be totally cloned, can it?)

For one, Neeson’s current vengeful force, Dr. Martin Harris, is pursuing his own identity, and with it, his wife. In Taken, his guy tracked down his daughter’s kidnappers. In both films, Neeson’s persona is that of a relentless, one-man army, imparting death and suffering on those standing in his way.

Per formula, the gangly, towering Neeson appears first as a genial everyman who is soon provoked into commando mode. By the time he is on an fisticuffs roll, we are totally with him, sympathetic to his cause and boiling for revenge. It is a formula that has worked since the dawn of storytelling, and fits Neeson like an Isotoner glove.

Unknown is an old school thriller with edgy, frenetic action. Though not a perfect movie due to plot holes, Unknown hooks and reels us, however implausibly, for its nearly two hour running time. It is a thrill ride worthy of Hitchcock, which is high praise for its director, the relatively unknown Jaume Collet-Serra (Orphan). Collet-Serra is a particularly stylish director, exemplified by the art gallery sequence, laced with cat-and-mouse weavings, by pursuer and the pursued, between and around painting display flats.

In fact, his directorial “weaving” is splendidly, and literally, showcased in several wild car chases shot in downtown Berlin. Talk about “wow.”

Collet-Serra has been very public about his admiration of the Master of Suspense and his film theme commonality. “My favorite films are those Hitchcockian thrillers that have that mysterious atmosphere,” he says, “where the audience is as much in the dark as the characters, and you don’t really now where the story is going to take you.” Unknown pretty much succeeds in this suspension of disbelief, as we root for our put upon hero to find the truth and, as previously said, himself.

That quest begins soon after Neeson’s Martin Harris and his wife Elizabeth (January Jones) arrive at the airport in modern day Berlin to attend an international meeting. Arriving at their hotel, Elizabeth goes inside to check in as Martin discovers his briefcase is missing. A simple matter, he thinks, as he takes a cab back to the airport to retrieve the item. Circumstances occur, however, and the cab wrecks. Martin awakens days later, his memory unclear. But soon he remembers, and forges back to the hotel to find his wife with a stranger (Aiden Quinn), who claims he is Dr. Martin Harris. Since Neeson’s Martin has since lost his passport and any identification, no one believes who he is. This includes his wife, who adamantly claims Quinn’s Martin as her husband.

So the story goes, and so goes Neeson’s Martin, just as adamant about proving his identity, and trying to find the truth behind his wife’s motive in disclaiming him.

Along the way, as he is put in the position of defending himself against assassins, he elicits help in proving who he really is by way of a young woman, Gina (Diane Kruger) and Ernst Jurgen (Bruno Ganz), a man of questionable past. Two others, played by Frank Langella and Sebastian Koch, also enter the equation.


One of my all time favorite TV programs was 24, which, week after week, clouded my logical sense via multiple plot twists, intense action, and loyalty to the central, determined character, Jack. It was not until after each episode that the show’s plot lackings would materialize. It was like taking a breath, and getting one’s mind back to solid ground. Unknown gave me a similar feeling. There are story questions that remain unanswered. For example, screenscribes Oliver Butcher and Stephen Cornwell have created a Berlin with virtually ineffectual police. After long stretches of either violent car chases or violent shootings within the heart of the city, police as pretty much invisible. They certainly never show up to impede any wild violence depicted.

Worse yet, and this is the major weakness, if Neeson/Harris has no idea of who he really is, why isn’t any DNA testing done? His fingerprints alone should do the trick. This is 2011 Germany?

Still, Unknown is a nail-biter, an edge-of-seater, and a fast couple of hours. It is just as well that its action moves faster than logic.
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GRADE on an A to F scale: B-
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The known trailer to UNKNOWN: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-lDfKb2SBA

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