by Takis Garis (@takisgaris)
Episode 22 Man’s best friends: A reanimated dog and a LAPD cops’ duo
FRANKENWEENIE (6/10)
The ingenious Tim Burton is on that stage of his prolific cutesy-gothic film career where there are no surprises as it pertains to his thematic endeavours and conceptual visualisations. The point when all pathways seem contrived and walked on and the safest route is the signature homecoming. Objections of this singular aphophasis aside, Frankenweenie, this obvious homage from James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) to Godzilla, King of Monsters (1956) is gleefully mingled with Burtonian Nightmare Before Christmas and Beetlejuice, that is essentially half of the master’s favorite filmography as a director/producer. What are the novelties here? You can count in the absence of Helena Bonham Carter (who committed her Corpse Bride persona to serve the latest The Great Expectations venture) and most notably so, his Johnny Depp alter ego who’s taking a needed break from bizarre fuelled roles after their sunk Dark Shadows farce. In contrast, it’s Wynona Ryder’s return from the…well, oblivion that marks her reunion with acclaimed director after more than two decades.
The ingenious Tim Burton is on that stage of his prolific cutesy-gothic film career where there are no surprises as it pertains to his thematic endeavours and conceptual visualisations. The point when all pathways seem contrived and walked on and the safest route is the signature homecoming. Objections of this singular aphophasis aside, Frankenweenie, this obvious homage from James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) to Godzilla, King of Monsters (1956) is gleefully mingled with Burtonian Nightmare Before Christmas and Beetlejuice, that is essentially half of the master’s favorite filmography as a director/producer. What are the novelties here? You can count in the absence of Helena Bonham Carter (who committed her Corpse Bride persona to serve the latest The Great Expectations venture) and most notably so, his Johnny Depp alter ego who’s taking a needed break from bizarre fuelled roles after their sunk Dark Shadows farce. In contrast, it’s Wynona Ryder’s return from the…well, oblivion that marks her reunion with acclaimed director after more than two decades.
Frankenweenie signifies another attempt in reunion, mending the broken glass of the tormented Burton-Disney working relationship after the 1984 split, when the 29 min. short live action of the same name hit the test audiences and was ultimately shelved, on fears that was too dark and would alienate young audiences. Apparently this assumption was true so it took some thirty years for the now 90 min. black and white suburban Halloween feast to resonate with this era’s tweeners. Sparky is young Victor Frankenstein’s beloved but accidentally deceased canine, which the little sorcerer will repeatedly electro-reanimate simply because he can’t be in terms with death of a loved one. Likewise, Burton seems in denial with putting his looping revisit of overfamiliar visual and caricature territory to rest, holding his very own with stylistic flair, making a wise choice to tone down his sad-ridden emo- journey up to the boisterous third act, when one could not avoid puzzlement as to what really led Burton back to Disney’s arms if it’s plain to see what that compromise would have in store for us: A predictable happy-ending, a movie connections’ throwback and an oddity circus that, at least for my 5 y.o. who literally screamed “I need my mommy!” appeared a tad bit too scary and obnoxious to be embraced by the uninitiated.
The Ed Wood awarded star (as Dracula legend Bela Lugosi) Martin Landau provides ethereal gravity by voicing a science teacher by the unpronounceable name of Mr. Rzykruski and Tim’s old friends Martin Short and Catherine O’Hara are heard here in multiple roles, including Victor’s (Charlie Tahan) parents. At some point, Mr. Frankenstein is trying to sell his son the art of compromise as being an “everybody wins” panacea. Deplorably this very principle cannot be effectively applied to Frankenweenie, for it shows neither the edge nor the boldness to play along with past Burtonian freak shows that have become through the years the essential viewing of our beautifully nightmarish adolescence.
END OF WATCH (5/10)
To begin with the End Of Watch, something feels right to be clear right off the bat; bearing in mind that we are living in the 21st century hence everything needs to be *real* or *legit*, yet, when it comes to film terrain, I adamantly hold my ground being that odd last century guy. My aesthetics can hardly recognize the handheld camera, found footage, POV choppy, cheap(ish) filmmaking style as the new thing to be embraced cinematically. It is merely the abominate distraction, the easy way out which goes astray from the creator’s task to transport, transcend reality in order to recreate it and transmit it back to the audience through his/her singular artistic vision. Hard? Maybe so, yet worthy to strive for. This introductory comment is not meant to harm veteran policier scipter/helmer Dan Ayer’s (Training Day, Deep Blue, S.W.A.T., and Street Kings) effort to manifest boldness and street-smart bro-cop intimacy with his latest End of Watch. My point is that overanalyzed characterisation over stylistic coherence and scriptural structure is not my kind of poison.
The Ed Wood awarded star (as Dracula legend Bela Lugosi) Martin Landau provides ethereal gravity by voicing a science teacher by the unpronounceable name of Mr. Rzykruski and Tim’s old friends Martin Short and Catherine O’Hara are heard here in multiple roles, including Victor’s (Charlie Tahan) parents. At some point, Mr. Frankenstein is trying to sell his son the art of compromise as being an “everybody wins” panacea. Deplorably this very principle cannot be effectively applied to Frankenweenie, for it shows neither the edge nor the boldness to play along with past Burtonian freak shows that have become through the years the essential viewing of our beautifully nightmarish adolescence.
END OF WATCH (5/10)
To begin with the End Of Watch, something feels right to be clear right off the bat; bearing in mind that we are living in the 21st century hence everything needs to be *real* or *legit*, yet, when it comes to film terrain, I adamantly hold my ground being that odd last century guy. My aesthetics can hardly recognize the handheld camera, found footage, POV choppy, cheap(ish) filmmaking style as the new thing to be embraced cinematically. It is merely the abominate distraction, the easy way out which goes astray from the creator’s task to transport, transcend reality in order to recreate it and transmit it back to the audience through his/her singular artistic vision. Hard? Maybe so, yet worthy to strive for. This introductory comment is not meant to harm veteran policier scipter/helmer Dan Ayer’s (Training Day, Deep Blue, S.W.A.T., and Street Kings) effort to manifest boldness and street-smart bro-cop intimacy with his latest End of Watch. My point is that overanalyzed characterisation over stylistic coherence and scriptural structure is not my kind of poison.
Pal Officers Taylor (Jake Gyllenhaal) and Zavala (Michael Pena) are stuck in their south central LAPD car for endless watch hours, monitoring the criminal activity of commonly found underworld creatures, ranging from murderous gang kingpins to crack head venomous bitches. “Why do they call you Big Evil?” Taylor, who’s making a documentary for his law school sidekick of a career, is asking one of them. “Because my evil is big” casually replies the latter. Filthy dialogue, unfiltered random thoughts and repetitious police check activity is in loop here and on the plus side this brings us closer as dead heat goes to the psyche of two interconnected law enforcers. Dan Ayer has left no significant room in this jailed environment for the duo’s love interests; Taylor's pretty young thing Janet (Anna Kendrick) and Zavala's pregnant wife Gabby (Natalie Martinez), add little substance to the story, showcasing Ayer’s hardship to raise the bar higher from his minimalist approach. Unless, the scope here has a far more generic driving force.
Lately we are no strangers to men in uniform propaganda, the later example being Act of Valor about the Navy Seals’ outstanding operational achievements. Fun fact trivia, Ayer himself could have very well direct that movie, since he’s served as a submarine sonar operator himself for a number of years. There’s no arguing that he’s sitting rather comfortably with another commission of could easily be construed as an inglorious LAPD eulogy, profane but wrenching, where it’ll all end up in tears for the unsung everyday heroes who fell in the line of duty, with the grieving widows carrying the orphaned babies in arms and other servicemen paying solemn tributes. There’s only one parameter that grasps this ideologically cliché-ridden project by the scalp and that is namely the performances by Pena and Gyllenhaal in this particular order. The Hispanic dude is vivacious, earnest and generous, believes in the cause and takes the bullet for his partner. The Caucasian dude is low profile, trying to figure his mess out, eager to make the move to step up his love life. They both create a warm place that our hearts may pour in, providing a POV which easily identifies with all our predispositions on how cops could be like or better should be like; Flawed and ordinary, yet heroic and self-denying when the going gets tough.
gaRis
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