"The Amazing Spider-Man 2" ★★

Crowded, Long, And Less Than 'Amazing' 

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

One of the pleasures of "The Amazing Spider-Man" was its attention to young love, illustrated wonderfully by Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) and Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone). I felt that it added an extra layer that was missing from Sam Raimi's original trilogy, where the acting could be sidelined for dramatic camera movement. With "The Amazing Spider-Man 2", however, the scenes between Garfield and Stone come in small doses, in favor of developing the film's many villains.

It begins with a car chase where Aleksei Sytsevich, a.k.a. Rhino (Paul Giamatti), is quickly subdued by Spider-Man and locked away for later use. In the process of apprehending Sytsevich, Spider-Man saves the life of a lonely OsCorp electrical engineer, Max Dillon (Jamie Foxx, who later becomes Electro after a freak accident involving mutated electric eels), which sets up Dillon's strange obsession with the web-slinging hero. Complicating matters further, Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan) shows up to inherit OsCorp from his dying father, Norman (Chris Cooper), and discovers that he needs Spider-Man's blood to cure him of the same illness that is killing his father. All of this and we're only about a half-hour in to the two-and-a-half-hour running time. Crowded is putting it lightly...

While all of these new characters are introduced, Peter is struggling with the promise he made to Gwen's father, George (Denis Leary, who shows up just to stare disapprovingly at Peter in several scenes), to keep away from her, while Gwen is making plans to attend Oxford University. The focus is constantly shifting from one story to the next for the obvious purpose of setting up the next movie, or series of movies in this universe. In other words, "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" is less concerned with itself than what will undoubtedly come next.

It's a shame, really, because Peter and Gwen's relationship is something quite special. The film's strongest scene is one that involves Peter and Gwen deciding if they can truly be just friends or if they'll always be something more. The rules they establish for one another show the charm and wit they bring to the series, as well as the heart of Peter Parker's quest. Should he sacrifice what he wants in favor of being a hero, or is the real heroic act being there for the woman he loves?

The problem is that 'The Amazing Spider-Man 2" cannot decide what it wants to be. It's as if a bunch of noodles were thrown to the wall and the ones that stuck ended up making it into the movie. With three credited writers (Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, and Jeff Pinkner), and a fourth for the story credit (James Vanderbilt), you would think that someone would have spoken up about the need for crowd control. Characters are ignored for chunks of the movie because of all the storylines and plot points the writers need to hit. After the initial confrontation, Electro is locked away, Aunt May (Sally Field) is virtually unseen except to deliver truly pointless exposition, Sytsevich is onscreen for a total of five minutes, and Harry's development into yet another villain is quite rushed.

All of this is to say that the writers and director Marc Webb appear to have forgotten what made this new incarnation of the series special in the first place: Garfield and Stone. They're the reason to include "amazing" in the title and they deserve far more than being ignored for unnecessary, uninteresting characters.

"Locke" ★★★½

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Shot over five days and five nights, Steven Knight's "Locke" is the story of one man's mistake and his endless desire to redeem himself, all while speaking on the phone as he drives from Birmingham to London. Yes, the film takes place entirely inside the title character's BMW and it is a mesmerizing experience, both in Knight's sheer inventiveness as a filmmaker and Tom Hardy's brilliant performance as Ivan Locke.

At first you may ask yourself how a film that takes place in a car could hold your attention for its eighty-five minute running time, but that worry fades the moment Ivan makes his first phone call. He's a construction foreman who leaves the most important job of his career because of a mistake he made in his recent past. (I won't spoil what that mistake is, especially since I went into this movie completely blind and was even more wowed than I otherwise might have been.) Ivan has a list of people he needs to talk to, as well as several personal goals to achieve as he makes the drive to London.

What's fascinating is the personal journey this character takes in such a short amount of time. Ivan goes from a man trying to control an uncontrollable situation to someone who accepts the fact that what he's done simply isn't fixable. It happens naturally, out of the many conversations he has on the phone, and also in his discussions with his never seen nor heard deceased father. He's trying to prove that one mistake isn't enough to condemn someone for the rest of their life and that he controls his own fate, not the other way around.

But Ivan is driving toward inevitability, and the closer he gets, the more unhinged and agitated he becomes. It's an honest and heartbreaking realization, and one that Hardy plays beautifully. Ivan's a man worn down by his actions, comforting to others but a mess on the inside, scruffy and more than a little rough around the edges, but he's built a life for himself. He's proud of the work he's done and just wants to get home to his wife, Katrina (Ruth Wilson) and two sons, Sean (Bill Milner) and Eddie (Tom Holland).

We only hear the voices on these phone calls, but these actors do great work and convey all the emotions they need to in their reactions to what Ivan is saying. Wilson is particularly good at bringing Ivan into reality, and Donal (Andrew Scott), Ivan's number two who must take over the job in his absence, adds some comedic moments to an otherwise dark story. You forget that you're only seeing one actor on screen and you become entranced. It's not your average car ride but you're more than happy to have made the journey.

"Under The Skin" ★★★★

A Cinematic Odyssey

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

The one film in recent memory to make me question everything I know about life, death, and a general love of movies is "2001: A Space Odyssey". What Stanley Kubrick did with that film is something that should be marveled, analyzed, and written about for years to come. I did not think another film could come that close to brilliance until I saw Jonathan Glazer's "Under The Skin", a hauntingly intoxicating film with a stellar performance from Scarlett Johansson.

The film tells the story of an alien (Johansson) in Scotland who lures men with the promise of sex into a blackish blue liquid that preserves them for something far more sinister. The longer she's on Earth and the more she studies humans, the more curious and sympathetic she becomes. She's obviously not of this world, but "Under The Skin" itself feels like something otherworldly in its style. Glazer's images are best expressed as something Special Agent Dale Cooper would call "both wonderful and strange" bringing to mind the claustrophobic acid-trip of an ending that "2001" provided. From the opening minutes - with a score perfectly complimentary to the images on screen - to the quiet ending, Glazer never hesitates to make the audience squirm in their seats. Just when you think the story cannot possibly be any darker or stranger, he ups the anti.

The darker the story gets, however, the more I found myself sympathizing with the alien creature and less with her victims. In one sequence, she happens upon a disfigured man (Adam Pearson) who, as a result of his condition, has never been with a woman. She compliments his hands, they make small talk, and never once does she mention or seem to care about his appearance. Their exchange is essential to the journey her character takes, seemingly causing her to realize what she's doing to these people. She sees the best and worst in humanity and becomes more aware of the body she inhabits.

It's a brave role, that much is certain, and Johansson doesn't shy away from anything. Her performance has stuck with me, as I find myself thinking about this movie nearly every day since I first saw it. There simply are not a lot of movies that can creep in like "Under The Skin" does; a welcome respite from the summer blockbuster season. What Glazer and Johansson have accomplished here is Kubrickian in nature, but wholly original in style and form. This isn't a movie you watch, it's one you experience. Don't be afraid to let it in.

Revisiting "(500) Days of Summer"

A Look Back At This Wonderful Indie From 2009

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

There's something about the hopeless romantic character that resonates deeply with me. Perhaps it's because I am one myself, or maybe it's the idea of lost idealism rushing to the surface that creates a lasting appeal. Whatever the reason, "(500) Days of Summer" is a film that puts this archetype front and center, the result of which is a damn fine movie.

The hopeless romantic in this story is Tom, played by the always engaging Joseph Gordon-Levitt, an architect at heart but currently employed as a writer of greeting cards in downtown Los Angeles. Tom's belief in true love is expressed when he first meets Summer (Zooey Deschanel), the new secretary at the card company. What follows is the story of their strained relationship and eventual break-up, told from Tom's perspective.

Gordon-Levitt plays Tom's heartbreak beautifully, never making it sentimental or pathetic. He becomes withdrawn, depressed and, for a while, angry. Angry at Summer, yes, but mostly angry at himself for believing that he could change Summer's beliefs about love to fit with his. She tells him early on that she's not looking for a relationship, nor does she believe in true love. But Tom believes so earnestly that he's the man that will cause her to rethink what she already knows. Where your sympathy lies depends upon the character with whom you identify the most.

On one hand, there's Summer, who is upfront and honest about what she's looking for. She tells Tom how it is and asks if he is willing to accept her terms. On the other hand, there's Tom, a man whose judgement is clouded by his convictions. But that's what makes watching this movie such a rewarding experience: It nails both sides of a doomed relationship so perfectly, that no matter who you see yourself as, it's a pleasure to watch.

This pleasure, for me at least, comes to fruition in two key scenes of the film. The first is a small moment that sets up the second scene, when we're led to believe that Tom and Summer could potentially get back together. It's a few seconds on a train after they've left a wedding and it seems like they're falling in love all over again. Tom is awake in his seat and Summer's head ever-so-gracefully falls on his shoulder. The look on Tom's face is one of pure joy and relief. He's done it, he's won her back, or so he thinks. It's a small gesture, yes, but in the hands of a less capable actor it could have gone way wrong. Gordon-Levitt lives in this moment and reacts accordingly.

The second scene is when Tom shows up at Summer's apartment for a party. She invited him at the wedding, they had that moment on the train, so naturally Tom thinks this is his shot at happiness. Many will remember that this is the expectations vs. reality sequence, where the left side of the screen shows what Tom thought would happen and the right shows what actually happens. It's sad, yes, but contagious in its effect. What we're left with is a broken man who has to reconcile with his own ideals.

The one love Tom still has in his life is the city of Los Angeles, which is a character in and of itself. Out of Tom's loss comes the will to pursue his dream of being an architect and letting the city that surrounds him be his constant source of inspiration. Los Angeles is shown in ways we're not used to seeing on screen; there's an affection for the city. You could almost say that Tom is having a constant affair with it. And that's just one of many charms this movie offers, especially upon repeated viewing.

Director Marc Webb uses a variety of filmmaking techniques, all of which compliment the mood and tone of the characters. There's a musical number when Tom and Summer have sex for the first time, a reference to French New Wave films when Tom is "suffering", and interviews with the characters about their thoughts on love. None of this ever takes you out of the story because it's all so complimentary of what Tom is going through. "(500) Days of Summer" is love in its richest form: it loves the characters, story and setting, but it also loves every aspect of the filmmaking process.

Californication Season Seven Premiere: "Levon"

Finding Its Way Home

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

The final season of Californication premiered last night and after seven years of Hank's (David Duchovny) debauchery, the show appears to be getting back on track. The first season as a whole proved that Californication was something different, a comedy that pushed the limits even for cable television, but one that had a lot of heart and soul. Many wrote the show off as being just about sex, when in fact it was anything but. As the seasons progressed, however, it was clear that the writers were more interested in sexual situation comedy, rather than the story of Hank and Karen (Natasha McElhone).

I questioned how Californication could last past a season or two and the answer was it couldn't and shouldn't have. This always was a short term story, at least for me, and while I wish things could have ended much sooner, I'm glad that this first episode in the show's conclusion indicates a return to form. It begins moments after the ending of last season, with Hank knocking on Karen's door to tell her he wants to make it work. Things don't go as planned, so Hank decides to get a job working in television. Easier said than done.

Fans of the show will remember that season five revolved around the making of the movie "Santa Monica Cop", which has now been adapted into a television series and is being run by Rick Rath (Michael Imperioli). Hank convinces Rick that he's worth hiring because of his life experience and that his pain in the ass work ethic is beside the point. "I'm on a quest to reclaim the best parts of myself before it's too late", Hank says at one point. The same can be said about Californication.

The core of the show has always been Hank and Karen's relationship, and their scenes together, sparse though they may be, always remind me of why I fell in love with the show in the first place. Duchovny and McElhone are so good that when they're together, it no longer feels like I'm watching two characters on a screen, rather, I'm a witness to two very real people having arguments and conversations that actually matter. And when the show is firing on all cylinders, the comedy comes out of the characters, not the situations they're thrown into.

Take Charlie (Evan Handler) and Marcy (Pamela Adlon) for example. They're the most unlikely couple in the series. Their chemistry is just perfect on as their co-stars and the funniest moments in "Levon" occurred when they were arguing about Charlie's erectile dysfunction. While Charlie has been the focus of ridicule throughout Californication's run, he's best served when Marcy is with him. Keeping them apart for so long was one of many missteps in the show's prolonged run, but now that they're living not-so-happily ever after, all could be forgiven. And yes, watching Charlie flounder about is always amusing, but it's having Marcy by his side that makes those scenes work. That's a testament to Adlon's comedic timing, which makes Marcy's mixture of bitter and sweet spot on.

It's that dichotomy that always made Californication work, and for too long, Tom Kapinos - the show's creator and, now, only writer - went for the wacky comedy instead of comedic character study. But for the first time in several seasons, I was laughing again and happy to see these characters for at least twelve more episodes. Let's hope that Californication, much like Hank and Karen, can get it right a second time.

Upstream Color ★★★★

A Mesmerizing Follow Up From The Director of Primer

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Do not try to understand Upstream Color after one viewing. It's next to impossible. Instead, let the emotions, good and bad, wash over you and let that be your critique of the movie. It's the second film from director Shane Carruth (Primer), which should help to discern what type of movie this is.

For those who want to have an idea of what they're in for, I'll say this much: a woman, Kris (Amy Seimetz in a haunting performance), is kidnapped and force-fed larvae that make her susceptible to mind control. Her assailant (Thiago Martins) has her perform a variety of bizarre tasks before having her make a series of large withdrawals from her bank and pocketing the money himself. Later, Kris discovers worms gestating right beneath her skin and desperately tries to remove them. When that fails, she's somehow drawn to a farmer who is seemingly obsessed with sound, carrying microphones and recording equipment everywhere he goes. The farmer removes the worms and puts them in one of his pigs in one of the most disturbing surgery scenes I've ever witnessed, and Kris awakens alone and confused in her car on the side of the freeway. Some time later she meets a man, Jeff (Carruth), who becomes a kindred spirit to her, hinting that he, too, may have been experimented on in the past. 

Of everything this movie offers, that just scratches the surface. It's clear that Carruth operates on an entirely different level than I could ever hope to. But as a filmmaker, he certainly is a major talent. He's a director who uses imagery and, for this film, sound design (as noted by film critic Alonso Duralde) to give the audience an almost a dreamlike experience, while at the same time being astoundingly original in his approach to storytelling. His cinematography is evocative, his score is eerie, and his dialogue - what little there is - hardly matters when compared to what he's showing us. Think Terrance Malick, but much more twisted. Better yet, think of Darren Aronofsky's second film, Requiem For A Dream, and you might begin to understand how you'll feel after watching Upstream Color.

It works in the ways that the best science fiction films do; you'll find yourself asking a lot of questions, questions only truly great science fiction offers. I always come back to 2001: A Space Odyssey, as the quintessential science fiction experience. Every time I watch it gives me another interpretation of our place in the universe, where we come from, what's next etc. Upstream Color is offers similar questions, but is more of a cautionary tale of where we are as a civilization, and what certain members of society are capable of when given power. I'm not saying mind control is possible and I'm not saying it isn't. But pondering it's existence and what it could mean is just one of several rewarding pleasures of seeing a film like this. Where 2001 can be seen as more of an optimistic approach to consciousness (depending on your interpretation of it), Upstream Color is it's own dystopia. It takes place in the present, but seems to theorize that our undoing isn't the result of war or attacks from aliens, but instead by human choice. Given the power to control another, would we use it? Carruth is giving us his interpretation of a world gone mad from its own power. It's incredibly effective. 

Mud ★★★★

A Coming of Age Noir Along The Mississippi River

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

There aren't many directors who can make the audience feel as though they are actually part of the world displayed before our eyes when we see a movie. Some directors try but fail - James Cameron with Avatar, for example, forcefully tried to make us part of Pandora with his use of 3D - and some, like the brilliant Jeff Nichols, do so effortlessly, trusting in the work they're producing. Nichols' latest film, Mud, is a beautiful representation of the latter.

In an area unfamiliar, I'm sure, to many like myself who have never journeyed that far south, the story takes place and was shot along the Mississippi River in Arkansas. Two boys, Ellis (Tye Sheridan, giving one of the most amazing performances of the year) and Neckbone (Jacob Lofland), discover a boat in a tree in the middle of a mostly desolate island along the river. They also find the boat inhabited by Mud (Matthew McConaughey, giving one of the year's best performances), a man who tells the boys that he is waiting for his girlfriend, Juniper (Reese Witherspoon), to find him so that they can run away together.

Ellis' mother and father (Sarah Paulson and Ray McKinnon) are in the early stages of divorce, which is devastating to Ellis, as he is beginning a relationship with his first serious crush (Bonnie Sturdivant). We all remember our first crush; the intense feelings, awkward interactions and maybe some sleepless nights; and Nichols captures all of these feelings beautifully, getting an amazing performance out of Sheridan. After Mud asks the boys for help, Ellis obliges after hearing Mud speak about Juniper. The love that Mud clearly has for her entrances Ellis, giving him hope when his parents have left him hopeless. The look of excitement and desperation on Ellis' part perfectly conveys the longing all of us have experienced at least once during our lives. The idea of true love being tangible has its temptations and with them a certain degree of naïveté.

Mud is one of those coming of age stories that manages to get everything right. In his creation of Ellis, Nichols succeeds in making the audience a part of the story, despite the unfamiliarity of life along the Mississippi River. Our hearts break for Ellis, yet we believe, as he does, that love will conquer all. Nichols perfectly captures the innocence of adolescence while also providing a noirish backdrop for all the characters to live within.

Mud, we find out, is a fugitive for a crime I won't spoil in this review. Suffice it to say that, in addition to being pursued by authorities, some very bad men want him dead. With every task Ellis performs to help Mud, including finding and speaking with Juniper, Ellis places himself in more danger. McConaughey is stellar as Mud, portraying the character as somewhat of a simpleton with deadly skills, especially if someone threatens a person he cares about. Mud is thus the grown up version of Ellis, at least if Ellis doesn't learn from Mud's mistakes.

It's hard, I imagine, for anyone not to sympathize with both Ellis' and Mud's plight. This is a film that asks the audience to revisit the intense feelings young adulthood provides but also to recall the moment in time where suddenly we realized it was time to grow up. It's never easy for anyone, but it happens to us all, and Ellis' story is a beautiful representation of that time in our lives. This is a film about lost innocence and the acceptance of truth in extreme circumstances. Life is always simpler when we're young, or so we think. But Nichols knows better, and invites us into his story about lost youth by allowing us to remember our own.

To The Wonder ★★★

Searching For Love In Unforgiving Times

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

There is not another director working today that connects fluid camera movement with beautiful imagery as well as Terrence Malick does. Shots flow seamlessly together like streams of consciousness; we circle in and out of distant memories from someone else's life. The plot is less important than the ideas expressed, usually in voice-over. That's the best way I can describe what it's like to see a Malick film. It is, for all intents and purposes, visual poetry with religious symbolism sprinkled throughout. The same is true for Malick's latest film, To The Wonder, which deals with a woman's search for tangible love paralleled with a priest's search for God.

That woman, Marina (Olga Kurylenko), lives in Paris with her boyfriend, Neil (Ben Affleck), and her daughter, Tatiana (Tatiana Chiline). The film begins by showing the love Marina and Neil share, barely able to keep their hands off of one another. Malick shoots these scenes in an evocative manner, pulling the audience into the passion these two share. When Neil persuades Marina to come back to America with him, their love begins to fade, especially when there's an apparent refusal on Neil's part to marry Marina so she may stay with him. We're introduced to a priest, Father Quintana (Javier Bardem), whose love and devotion to God is dissolving with every less fortunate person he tries to help. 

Marina is in search for "the love that loves us" as she says at one point, and Father Quintana wants proof of God's existence. Marina is so determined to believe in that love that she fails to see what an idiot Neil is. She's blinded by faith, a bit naive, but also spirited and optimistic. Father Quintana is the opposite, his search guided by frustration and distrust. Both stories run parallel throughout the film, which proves less effective than Malick's previous film, The Tree of Life, which brilliantly used ideas of existence to pose similar questions asked in To The Wonder. Using lost love as a metaphor for one's devotion to God is a bit heavy-handed and does not illicit the response I think Malick was going for. 

The main problem is that Malick doesn't seem to have an interest in Neil, the character whose story is placed front and center. Early in the story Marina's green card expires and Neil, seemingly unfazed by the fact that she's forced to leave, wanders aimlessly for a bit before meeting Jane (Rachel McAdams), a woman he knew many years ago with whom he begins a relationship. Malick appears to be obsessed with choice, or in Neil's case, the lack of choice. Neil doesn't know what he wants and therefore cannot commit to either woman. Why either of them ever fall for him is lost on me, but then again, the heart wants what the heart wants. In this case, it's a brooding Affleck. 

For all of To The Wonder's faults, much can be said about the isolation and loneliness that misplaced love can offer. Marina dances in beautiful panoramas, vast and desolate, always in search of a love she may never find. Father Quintana walks in and out of poor neighborhoods surrounded by people yet utterly alone in his desire to find God among the impoverished. The question at the heart of the film is whether or not these two characters will ever find the meaning they're looking for. The beauty of that question is where it takes these characters and how Malick shoots their determination in modern landscapes. 

This is by no means Malick's best effort as a filmmaker - a longer version of the story may have made it a masterpiece - but there's also something hauntingly real about what happens when love is felt for the wrong person. In an era when the divorce rate is at an all-time high, To The Wonder is optimistic in it's approach to love; however misplaced, however intangible, it exists in all of us and allows us to feel, to be human. Maybe that's the point.  

Side Effects ★★★½

Showcasing Paranoia Without Being Paranoid 

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

We've all seen those commercials advertising some new drug that helps with some disease or condition. If you're like me, you often laugh you when hear the list of long side effects the drug can have, oftentimes those effects being worse than the actual disease they're supposed to treat. That's the idea behind Side Effects, the latest paranoia thriller from director Steven Soderbergh, and perhaps this distinguished director's final film.

Rooney Mara continues to prove herself as an actress, this time around playing Emily Taylor, a severely depressed woman coping with the four year imprisonment of her husband, Martin (Channing Tatum). When Martin is released, Emily's depression worsens to the point that she seeks the counsel of a psychiatrist, Dr. Jonathan Banks (Jude Law), after a failed suicide attempt. When he prescribes her with a new antidepressant, sinister things begin to happen, causing Dr. Banks' reputation to come under investigation and Emily's sanity to be pushed to the limit.

After Soderbergh's 2011 film Contagion, it's clear that he is a man well-equipped for creating a sense of paranoia and dread on screen without making the movie feel too paranoid for its own good. He paints a portrait of the time in which we live where there's a prescription drug for virtually everything out there, and chooses to show us the possible ramifications of our choices. There are moral questions posed early in the film about the best ways of treating mental illness, and the nice thing about Side Effects is that you can approach these questions in multiple ways.

The argument could be made that it is a study about America's addiction to prescription drugs and the overall power pharmaceutical companies have in our current culture. For better or worse, physicians are always looking for new ways to treat illness, mental or physical, and Side Effects offers somewhat of an inside look into how certain decisions are made regarding the treatment of a patient. Or, you can look at the film as a study of depression and the long-term mental effect it can have on a person, in this case, Emily. You could even look at it as an examination into the life of a psychiatrist and the types of moral questions he or she faces on a daily basis.

The direction the film goes in may not be what people are expecting but I thoroughly enjoyed myself. If this film is truly Soderbergh's swan song, it's not a bad note to end on. But the thrills, twists and turns that Side Effects offers makes me hope that this is not the last we have seen of this prolific filmmaker.

Side Effects will be released Friday, February 8th 2013

A Farewell To Fringe

A Show That Brought New Meaning To The Term "Cool"

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Last night, after five seasons and one hundred episodes, Fringe said goodbye forever. This was one of those shows that gained a cult following over the years, to the point that when it was in danger of being cancelled, the fans were able to keep it on the air. It was also - regardless of whether or not you're a science fiction nerd - one of the most unique shows to ever air on television.

For the uninitiated, Fringe was about an F.B.I. Agent named Olivia Dunham (Anna Torv) who is selected by her superior, Phillip Broyles (Lance Reddick), to be part of the Fringe Division at the F.B.I. Olivia recruits Walter Bishop (John Noble, who is absolutely brilliant), a scientist responsible for many experiments which have lead to the so called "Fringe Events", the result of which led to his incarceration in a mental institution. Lastly, Walter's son, Peter (Joshua Jackson, bringing more to the character with each season), is brought in to "translate" his father's often gibberish-like musings.

It started off slow - the first season being heavily overseen by its creators, J.J. Abrams, Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci - and, as a result, was a mixed bag of goodies that first year. Abrams had stated that he wanted to have a less serialized show on the air (referring to Alias and Lost), which would usually mean that there would be a handful of mythology episodes with the rest being standalone, mystery-of-the-week type episodes. Not so. Instead, (according to Abrams) there would be plot points in every episode that propelled the overall story for those who were watching every week. For those that weren't, the episodes could be viewed as their own self-contained story. In other words, Fringe began as something of a hybrid, if we're using the typical model most shows follow.

Starting with season two, however, Fringe became something more. Abrams helped map the season out, but the showrunning duties fell to Jeff Pinkner and J.H. Wyman. (Pinkner had been selected as showrunner during season one and he later promoted Wyman to co-run the show with him). From this point on, the stories - from the cases the Fringe team would investigate to the character and season arcs - became unbelievably inventive. The groundwork had been laid toward the end of season one for certain storylines that became part of the show's charm, not the least of which was the relationship between Walter and Peter.

Noble and Jackson became the perfect dynamic-duo, if you will, their characters not having anything in common at first and evolving into depending on one another. Walter, a flawed father in many ways during Peter's childhood, tries to make amends with his past. Peter, reluctant to even talk to Walter in those early episodes, comes to respect, admire and yes, love, his father. In an odd way these two become a metaphor for the show itself: learn to accept the unknown rather than reject or be afraid of it.

In addition, Olivia herself was something of a unique heroine on television. She was never exploited for her beauty, never relied on men to save her, and also never portrayed as a tomboy, a trap many shows with female leads tend to fall into. She simply was Olivia Dunham: the agent who saved the world time and time again with her Fringe-like abilities. It's not too often that writers can get a female lead so right - shows like Alias and Chuck, for example, had strong female leads but each week managed to find ways to put them in revealing clothing of some kind - and praise should be given to Pinkner, Wyman and rest of the writing staff of Fringe for creating, and maintaining, such a great character.

A show with this many plot-twists demands grounded characters like these to keep us engaged. That was never more evident than in this final season, which jumped ahead twenty years to a time when the Observers - the bald-headed, fedora-wearing, albinos who could travel through time and space to "observe" major events in human history - had taken over and where our characters, frozen in amber for 21 years, had to find a way to stop them. This final year was very much a dystopian cautionary tale, by far the darkest year of the entire series. But I, like so many others, stayed with it because no matter how dark and tragic things got, Olivia, Peter, Walter and Astrid (Jasika Nicole, Walter's assistant) were there to anchor me in some degree of familiarity.

After everything these characters lost, particularly this season, the finale episode entitled "An Enemy of Fate" was moving, action-packed, rewarding and quite simply, perfect. This was a show that was in danger of being cancelled after season two and on. Each year Fringe took more risks, exploring alternate realities, reset timelines, shape-shifters, and future insurrections. Like Peter himself, the show (by conventional standards) should have never existed, but it did, and it fought back from the brink of death each season. It was wacky, it was dark, it was funny and at times devastatingly sad.

The best way to describe the tone of this beloved show of mine can be found in a line from last night's finale, in which Peter and Walter are arming themselves to fight the Observers. Walter instructs Peter to hold on to bullets which, when they hit an Observer, will cause them to "float away like balloons". Peter asks, "If we shoot them, they're dead. Why would we want them to float away?" Walter replies (with perfect delivery by Noble), "Because it's cool."

From now on, when I'm asked why I have such affection for Fringe, that perfect line will be my response.

Zero Dark Thirty ★★★★

A Decade-Long Hunt For Justice

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Opening with haunting audio of victims trapped in the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001, Zero Dark Thirty chronicles the ten-year hunt for Osama bin Laden and offers a chilling portrayal of the cost at which this pursuit was achieved.

Jessica Chastain plays a C.I.A. officer named Maya, a woman so determined to find bin Laden that all we come to know about her is her drive to find him. Whether or not Maya is based on a specific person, or several, remains to be seen, but Zero Dark Thirty itself should be remembered as perhaps the closest retelling of the last ten years that we will ever see.

There have, of course, been some controversies over the nature of torture depicted in the film, which unfortunately take away from Zero Dark Thirty's importance. There have not been any post-9/11 films that have so perfectly captured the tone of what America was feeling for so many years. There was anger, confusion, dread, frustration, sadness and above all, a need for answers. Whether or not America used torture to gain intelligence regarding bin Laden's location is not the point of Zero Dark Thirty; it's one aspect of the film that leaves opinion up to the viewer. This is a film about the pursuit of justice and the sacrifices people like Maya and other characters made in order to get it.

The director, Kathryn Bigelow, and writer, Mark Boal, whose previous collaboration The Hurt Locker won best picture in 2009, know how to tell stories about terrorism and the realities of living in the current political climate that we do. When retelling a story, there are always liberties one takes, especially in film, which seems lost on those who criticize Zero Dark Thirty as 'un-American'. Think of this film less as strictly fact (though, there are many facts that are accurate) and more as a commentary about American attitudes.

Maya is the embodiment of those attitudes. She's meant to be the mirror with which we look at ourselves. We wanted answers; we wanted bin Laden. It's not spoiling anything to say that by the end of the movie, we get him, but what we're left with is not a dead body to gawk at, but instead an image of Maya wondering, "What now?" You're likely to feel the same way by the time the credits roll.

Zero Dark Thirty is currently in wide release.

Lincoln ★★★★

Making History, Then and Now

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Steven Spielberg is the master of revealing iconic characters on film. Think back to Raiders of the Lost Ark, where, during the opening credits of the film, Indiana Jones' face isn't revealed until he prevents a man from shooting him with the crack of his whip. Or how about Quint's scratch across the chalkboard introduction in Jaws? And I'm sure we all remember the fate of the unlucky goat in Jurassic Park, when the Tyrannosaurus Rex rears his ugly head. Spielberg has a gift for creating memorable imagery that resonates with us years after we've seen our favorite film of his. That talent of revealing memorable characters is echoed once again in his latest film, Lincoln.

The opening scene involves two African American soldiers talking to Lincoln (the perfectly casted Daniel Day-Lewis) about the hardships they continue to face as the Civil War rages on. The camera, focused on these two men, pulls back ever so slowly to show us Lincoln, giving him an almost heroic glow and certainly showing us that were looking at one of the most important figures in our nation's history.

More successfully than any other portrayal of this famous president, Day-Lewis brings humanity to a character that could have very easily been played as an over-the-top idealist. What he and Spielberg pull off in this film is nothing short of amazing. We see Lincoln portrayed as not only a president, but a husband, father, politician and, in some scenes, a normal, everyday guy who loves telling stories. We're familiar with Lincoln's success in creating the Thirteenth Amendment, and while much has been written about him, many will be surprised to see what Day-Lewis brings to the role.

For starters, the voice Day-Lewis created is much higher than previous portrayals of the character, which, as history tells us is probably the closest to how Lincoln actually sounded. In addition, we see his estranged relationship with his son, Robert (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), as the result of his dedication to politics. Furthermore, his wife, Mary (Sally Field, doing some of her best work in years), still distraught over the death of one of their son's, is more of a burden to the president, even though he tries to be as supportive as he can. In other scenes, we see Lincoln at his best, as he does everything within his power (bribery, persuasion, etc.) to get the Thirteenth Amendment passed in The House of Representatives.

The bulk of the film takes place during those proceedings, which has resulted in the unfair criticism by some that the film as being just a bunch of people talking. The script, from playwright Tony Kushner, is dialogue-heavy and sharp-witted, which somehow turns people off from seeing the film. Take it from me: I'm someone who could not be less interested in politics and I loved Lincoln. For those who know me, and who enjoy reading my work, that should mean a lot.

Because of what he does with the camera, Spielberg is the perfect choice to keep Kushner's dialogue entertaining and informative. We feel like we're a part of the political process in ways that, in recent years, many have forgotten about. This is how our country works and how major events within our government are shaped. Spielberg and Kushner invite us in and never talk down to the audience, nor is anything that any character says difficult for the less politically-savvy people like myself to comprehend.

Yet, if you still feel like you just cannot relate to the material, or if it's a film that just doesn't interest you, alas, Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens spends most of the movie yelling at those who believe the color of one's skin somehow makes them less than those with white skin. Jones is terrific as Stevens, bringing out the comedy in ridiculing others and, like Day-Lewis, showing the human side to a man who was seen as a radical for his belief in equality.

If Lincoln isn't a movie you want to see, it's a movie that you should see. It's easily the best film Spielberg has made in years and a reminder of why he's considered one of the greatest directors of our time.

The Master ★★★

Who Is In Command Of Who?

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master has quickly become the most theorized film of 2012. It's not interested in story, but rather, mood. Before its release, it was said that this film was Anderson's take on Scientology, and to a degree it is, just not in the way many are expecting.

The overall atmosphere of the film is disturbing: every scene hints at an eruption of violence that sometimes occurs and sometimes doesn't, creating a sense of unease and fascination. We feel this largely due to Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman, both entirely different characters, yet each one possessing a certain sinister quality that hints at instability. 

Phoenix plays Freddie Quell, a World War II veteran who brings new meaning to the word addiction, as he both an extreme alcoholic and completely obsessed with sex. His face is twisted, his body is bent, and his actions are menacing. He floats from one job to the next, first as a photographer, then as a cabbage farmer, though his primary skill in both occupations is concocting new ways of making his own alcoholic beverages. When he poisons an old man on the cabbage farm (whether or not it's accidental is up to the viewer to decide), he flees the farm and stows away on a yacht for the evening. As fate would have it, this yacht belongs to Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman), the leader of group called "The Cause". 

Lancaster sees something in Freddie and decides to take him on as his protégé. For whatever reason, Freddie doesn't run away from him, and yet again, the reasons are left up to us to decide. There's a connection between these two men, one that is so powerful, Lancaster's wife, Peggy (played with understated intimidation by the brilliant Amy Adams), takes notice and becomes visibly jealous the longer Freddie stays with The Cause. 

One of the many theories out there posit that The Master, more than anything else, is a love story between these two men, and to an extent, it is. Lancaster seems more aware and comfortable with his feelings for Freddie, whereas Freddie is a puzzle. You can't help but wonder if he's aware of those feelings and playing him for a fool, or if he's just too stupid to realize it. Thus, the question of who the master is shifts back and forth between these two characters, even though Lancaster is mostly referred to as Master by his followers. 

Freddie doesn't seem to need a world with rules and regulations. He doesn't fit in with society and could very much qualify as his own distinct breed of human. Yet Phoenix plays him so perfectly that you cannot help but wonder if he truly is the Master of his world, everything he does being a calculated choice in manipulating Lancaster to reveal himself as a fraud. Or maybe, Lancaster is the master manipulator, though much more overtly than Freddie. He has a following, a commanding presence, and most importantly, the power of persuasion. 

Anderson succeeds in making a movie that is open to a variety of interpretations. and his attention to period detail (it takes place in 1950) and visual composition are breathtaking. Shooting mostly in close-up only further illicits that sinister feeling in the audience that conveys something bad will happen. It's claustrophobic, jarring and very effective. Setting it in 1950 makes the film feel otherworldly all together, as this is a 1950 we've never seen before and one that could only come to life through Anderson's lens. Assisting him perfectly, as far as the tone of the film is concerned, is the eerie score provided by Jonny Greenwood. If there's one thing that stays in your head leaving the theater, it's the music heard throughout the film, more twisted than Freddie himself. 

In other words, The Master is different. It's unique in almost every way, yet somehow a lesser achievement when compared to Anderson's previous work. The pacing is off, the length of the film becomes problematic when the last chunk of the film feels unnecessary, and the shift in focus between both men doesn't fully work. Despite these flaws, however, The Master succeeds on its own terms. While it may not be Anderson's masterpiece, it's certainly unlike anything else you're likely to see all year.

Rise Of The Guardians ★

Seeing Isn't Believing

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

A large amount of the joy I receive from the best of animated features comes from the fact that they all manage to bring something human to a story that, to the naked eye, seems like it's from a different world all together. Most recently, Wreck-It Ralph was set in the world of video games, yet anyone who saw the film probably recognized a version of themselves or someone they knew in at least one character. It's the heart of films like that and many others that make us love the possibilities animation offers. The worst in animation however, trades heart for technology, a fault that the new film Rise Of The Guardians has in spades.

The problem with Guardians is that it's all visual spectacle and very little story. Director Peter Ramsey seems like he's only interested in the freedom animation offers, delivering sweeping shots over rooftops during the film's many, many action sequences, and never allowing the camera to stay stationary for a moment's breath. What little story there is involves Jack Frost (Chris Pine) being chosen to help the other Guardians - North (Alec Baldwin), Bunnymund (Hugh Jackman), Tooth (Isla Fisher) and Sandy, or, as they're all more commonly known, Santa, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy and Sandman - defend themselves against Pitch, otherwise known as The Boogeyman who's voiced by Jude Law. Pitch has found a way to bring terror and nightmares back into the minds of children, growing more powerful with every success. His goal is to rob children of their belief in all of these characters thereby taking away the Guardians' power and being free to corrupt the world.

It's an easy enough plot to get behind and not much more than that. Sure, they throw in Jack's identity crisis (he can't remember who he was before he became Jack Frost) and forcibly try to make his story the one we're interested in, but he's the weakest character of the bunch. And by weak, I mean both in character development and animation. One could argue that it was the animators' point to make Jack so inhuman, as he's not even believed in by any of the children, but the animation is so lifeless that it just looks lazy. Whereas the other characters in the story, particularly North, have such grandiose features it's a shame they were not part of a better movie.

What Rise Of The Guardians ends up feeling like is the collision of too many ideas that do not fit together at all. I get that each of the Guardians come from different worlds and therefore need their own distinct look, but it seems as though attention and favoritism was paid to the characters the filmmaker's felt they could have the most fun with, in this case, North. His design and features look gorgeous, and the detail of the North Pole is different than most are used to seeing - one amusing difference is that Yetis make the toys, not the elves because well, they're not right in the head. Pitch meanwhile looks like something out of the art-deco era (which I actually didn't mind, except for the fact that it doesn't work within the film) and Bunnymund just looks like a standard Rabbit.

I don't think Ramsey was the best choice of a director for a movie like this (it's also his first feature) mainly due to the fact that Guardians seems directionless. There are simply too many separate ideas about the animation going on for the story to function well. The designs for all of the characters are so separate that they don't work in the same movie. I feel especially bad for Jack Frost, given that the premise is supposed to be all about him, yet Ramsey and Co. seem awfully uninterested in him. It's no wonder the children don't believe in him; the filmmakers don't either.

Flight ★★★★

A Journey Into The Complicated Life of an Alcoholic

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Robert Zemeckis is a director who has basically been forgotten for the last decade. After directing two very different but equally entertaining films in 2000 (What Lies Beneath and Cast Away), he moved away from live-action entirely and as a result fell out of favor with audiences and critics alike. Happily, Zemeckis has returned to live-action for at least one movie with Flight, a terrific film starring Denzel Washington as an airline pilot struggling with alcoholism.

In the film's opening scene, we're immediately reminded of what Zemeckis can bring to a project. He shoots most of the movie either in close-up or medium shots, creating a very claustrophobic atmosphere, especially in the scenes where Washington's character, Whip Whitaker, chooses drinking over sobriety. Zemeckis uses this same tactic for the plane crash sequence, using tight shots and the point-of-view perspective to truly make us feel as though we're with the passengers on that flight. It's both discomforting and powerful, achieving that gut reaction many of us felt when watching the plane crash in Cast Away.

What's brilliant on Zemeckis' part is that we feel the same sensation (that weightless, stomach-in-your-chest feeling that anyone who has experienced turbulence on an airplane knows about) every time Whip is near a bottle of alcohol. It's not knowing what he'll do next that cripples us, making it hard to watch when Whip can't control himself. Yet Whip, despite being deeply flawed and very unlikeable at times, is a character you root for, largely due to Washington's performance and his direction under Zemeckis. We feel the suspense because we feel for Whip, a trick that not just any actor or director could pull off.

The most rewarding aspect that many of Zemeckis' projects offer is his close attention to character. We all remember Marty McFly and Doc Brown, and can easily recite the musings of Forrest Gump, courtesy of Zemeckis' knack for developing rich characters. Here, Whip is just as memorable because of his struggles, rather than the quirkiness that defined the aforementioned characters. In other words, Zemeckis and Washington both know how to bring a character to life, instead of just another guy in a movie. We shouldn't like Whip, but we do.

He's a guy who saves the lives of close to one hundred passengers on a doomed flight out of Orlando, yet he uses his new-found heroism as just another excuse to drink. He's enabled by his drug-dealing best friend, Harling Mays (John Goodman, who oddly felt a little out of place in the film), and his bad habits are ignored by both his co-pilot (Brian Geraghty) and flight attendant, Margaret (Tamara Tunie). He's estranged from his wife and son, and his friend-with-benefits, Katerina (Nadine Velazquez), an alcoholic and drug abuser, dies during the plane crash saving a young boy's life. To put it simply, Whip has nothing and is going nowhere really fast.

We find hope for Whip, unexpectedly so, in a young woman named Nicole (Kelly Reilly), who has a heroin addiction and almost dies from an overdose. Her story runs parallel to Whip's, her overdose occurring roughly the same time the plane crashes. The two of them meet in the hospital and instantly bond, though for different reasons. Whip sees a similarly damaged soul and uses her as yet another excuse to drink. Meanwhile, Nicole recognizes her problem and actively tries to build a better life for herself. Upon witnessing Whip's abuse of alcohol, she tries to help him, becoming the mirror held up to Whip's face; the image of the person he could be if he admitted to his addiction.

It's fascinating that Zemeckis and Washington don't shy away from the darkness of the story; they relish in it. There are many uncomfortable moments, scenes of heartbreak and betrayal, and somehow by the time the credits roll, there's a sense of hope and relief. This has been a major criticism of the film, it's "happy ending" somehow feels unearned to many critics. I find the ending to be peaceful rather than happy, dark enough to match with the tone the film establishes in its opening.

Flight is the perfect marriage of an actor and director working together to create a great movie and a powerful character. I, for one, am glad to see that Zemeckis has not lost his touch.

Cloud Atlas ★★

It's All Relative 

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Some of the best science fiction is not without its flaws. Star Trek had its fair share of bad episodes ("Spock's Brain", anyone?) and bad movies (Star Trek V: The Final Frontier), as did The X-Files, Battlestar Galactica, and yes, Lost. Despite these missed opportunities, we remember these shows fondly (some more than others) and embrace the ideas and unique style that each of these shows added to the genre. The same cannot be said for Cloud Atlas, the epic science fiction odyssey rife with ideas and riddled with missed opportunities.

To understand the film, it's best to understand how it views time. It is not linear, as we all believe, but rather, vertical, or as I like to see it, circular. In other words, events that happened in our past and future are occurring parallel to what is happening now. The directors of the film, Lana & Andy Wachowski and Tom Tykwer, weave six stories together all at once to show us that all of these separate events are happening simultaneously, with each of the characters' choices impacting their past and future. The key players in each of these stories are the ones who have a birthmark resembling a comet, as they are the ones whose actions will dictate whether the next one hundred years will be peaceful or erupt in chaos.

The actors playing different characters in each story include Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Jim Broadbent, Hugo Weaving, Jim Sturgess, Doona Bae, Susan Sarandon and Hugh Grant, all of whom do great work despite the execution on the part of the directors. The makeup and some of the accents (especially in futuristic story that features Hanks and Berry prominently) are too distracting, so much so that you begin to wonder if The Wachowskis and Tykwer didn't have enough faith in the abilities of the actors. I get it, reincarnation means sometimes the same soul inhabits a body looking entirely different than the prior body, but honestly, a cast like this deserves better.

For a film as grand as Cloud Atlas, the directors seem hard-pressed to find content that adequately fills the time. For much its three-hours the directors stretch each story (which could have been about ten to twenty minutes a piece) at the expense of the film. The cutting from one story to the next becomes jarring, taking the viewer out of the experience. It doesn't work, nor does the film need to be as long as it is. 

If you want a great movie that deals with life, death, time, space, and reincarnation, see 2001: A Space Odyssey. If you want a more Earthbound version of those ideas, see The Tree of Life. If you want a film that has many actors you love doing their best to elevate material unworthy of their talents, Cloud Atlas fits that description. But if you desire truly great science fiction, crack open a beer and watch some old Star Trek episodes. Even the bad ones are better than Cloud Atlas. 

Seven Psychopaths ★★½

A Comedy About Movie Violence... Sort of

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Here's a free lesson from Screenwriting 101: Whenever there's a writer as one of the characters in a movie, you can be sure that the director is giving us their own opinions about a certain subject within the context of the film. Your enjoyment of Seven Psychopaths, the latest film from writer/director Martin McDonagh, will depend entirely on whether or not you think McDonagh's commentary about movie violence works.

The writer in Seven Psychopaths is named Marty (Colin Farrell, who's actually quite funny the film) - who in absolutely no way is a reference do Mr. McDonagh - a nice guy struggling with a screenplay called Seven Psychopaths. It's a great title, but a movie about psychopaths doesn't really appeal to Marty, much to the dismay of his best friend, Billy (the always reliable Sam Rockwell), an actor and part-time dog thief. Billy is excited at the idea of a movie about psychopaths and is looking for any way he can help Marty out of his funk. As fate would have it, he steals the dog of a violent gangster named Charlie (Woody Harrelson), forcing himself, Hans (his partner in crime played by Christopher Walken, need I say more?) and Marty to get out of town fast.

Seven Psychopaths isn't a bad movie, it just loses itself within its own plot. There are moments in the movie that are quite funny, which works to the film's advantage in trying to point out the ridiculous nature of screen violence. There are also very dark moments involving Walken's story that clash with the comic tone the film seems intent on maintaining. They feel false, especially because the film is established as a comedy from the very beginning.

I was disappointed by Seven Psychopaths' ever shifting tone and expected more out of a film as meta as this one. There are scenes that recall what a gifted comedy director McDonagh but they're short lived as a result of his need to show us that movie violence is a problem in modern cinema. I get what he's trying to do, but I don't think he's the right filmmaker to execute these ideas properly.

Silver Linings Playbook ★★★★

A Playbook of Great Filmmaking

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Unconventional comedies seem to be on the rise as the end of 2012 approaches. We've had The Sessions, a sex comedy about polio, and now Silver Linings Playbook, a comedy (of sorts) about mental illness.

Bradley Cooper stars as Pat Solitano, a bipolar, former substitute teacher, who has just been released from a mental institution after eight months. The reason for his time has to do with an affair his wife had and the beating he gave her lover as a result. During his stay he learned that there are silver linings to everything and that if he remains positive, good things will happen - at least that's what he keeps telling himself.

He comes home to live with his parents, played nicely by Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver. His father is a sports nut who recently lost his pension and bets what little money he has on The Philadelphia Eagles. He superstitiously believes Pat to be a good luck charm, imploring Pat to watch the games with him. Pat, however, is preoccupied with ways that he can try to win his wife back, even though she has a restraining order on him. Later, at a dinner party, he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), a widow who  offers to help him in his quest if he agrees to be her dance partner in an upcoming competition.

Lawrence delivers yet another Oscar-worthy performance, nearly stealing the movie from everyone else involved. She plays Tiffany with absolute conviction, bringing out the ferocity and sincerity of her character. She's sexy, smart and damaged, searching - perhaps in all the wrong places - for a connection in the wake of her husband's death. Her scenes with Cooper, which take up a majority of the film, are what truly make this movie great, allowing both actors to showcase their skills just by having a conversation.

It's also nice to see Bradley Cooper doing something we haven't seen before, finally getting a role he deserves. Pat is not an easy part to play, to say the least, as he has to be manic, confused, scared, compassionate, inappropriate and likable all at the same time. He is, after all, bipolar. Cooper doesn't shy away from bringing out the crazy. In one scene that's effectively difficult to watch, Pat goes berserk in the middle of the night searching for his wedding video, accidentally hitting his mom in the process. Your heart breaks for him, yet you can't help but be frightened of him at the same time. He's doing the best that he can in service of his newfound philosophy.

His attitude, and resulting actions, are what make Silver Linings special. Everyone within the story wants to be better, even if it's at times motivated by selfishness: Pat wants his wife back and does kind things to show her that he's changed; Tiffany wants Pat to fall in love with her, begrudgingly helping him so that he'll be her dance partner; and Pat's father wants Pat to watch the Eagles games with him, under the guise of superstition, but really just to spend time with his son. They're trying to do the right thing and good things start happening as a result.

This is a film that doesn't shy away from its own optimism; it relishes in it. When it begins, you have no hope for Pat or the other characters. They all seem beyond help, yet as the movie progresses you see what each character brings out in the other and gradually become more invested in their triumph over their struggles. It's the sincere kind of film that, were he alive today, Frank Capra (director of It's A Wonderful Life) would surely have directed, and one that would have been considered one of his many "Capra-corns".

Instead, the directing duties fall to David O. Russell, who brings a certain style to the story (which he adapted from the novel by Matthew Quick) better than Capra could have in many ways. He shoots mostly in closeup, conveying the discomfort and claustrophobia of Pat's character feeling like he's being smothered. These closeups also bring out the insanity we all feel when we've been around our family for too long, which is perfect for this story. Russell seems to be telling us that no matter how normal any of us think we are, we're all a little bit crazy.

Russell has made a terrific film and, like the best of Capra's work, has delivered a message we shouldn't roll our eyes at and instead wholeheartedly embrace. A tour de force of both acting and directing, Silver Linings Playbook illustrates the power and inspiration that great filmmaking can achieve.

The Sessions ★★★

Polio Is No Obstacle In A Man's Quest To Have Sex

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

A comedy about a polio survivor trying to lose his virginity is not a sentence I thought I would ever use to describe a film, but The Sessions is exactly that.

John Hawkes stars as Mark O'Brien, a man who lives his life inside an iron lung, save for the few hours a day he is able to breathe on his own. As a child, he contracted polio and has been paralyzed from the neck down ever since. He's also a devout Catholic, routinely confessing to his priest, Father Brendan (William H. Macy), who gives him advice and also serves as perhaps Mark's closest friend. When Mark decides he wants to lose his virginity at thirty eight years of age, he's put in touch with a sex surrogate named Cheryl (Helen Hunt) who tells him that they will have a total of six sessions, each one furthering his sexual experience.

The film is based on an article written by the real-life O'Brien about these sessions, and it turns out to be quite funny. Like some of the best comedies about teenagers trying to lose their virginity, The Sessions takes that idea and applies it to an area that most films tend to shy away from: the sexual desires of an older man who has never experienced a woman's touch as a result of his handicap. It's an idea that when first heard, you tend to tilt your head and think about it for a second, before realizing that it's brilliant and quite refreshing given the current state of comedies about sex.

Hawkes is fearless as Mark and he gives a beautiful performance as this man who underneath it all just wants to meet the right woman. He's charming, caring and, like a teenager getting to experience sex for the first time, is quite misguided. In the first act of the film it seems as though Mark will fall for any beautiful woman that gives him attention, but it's not because he's shallow, rather, he thinks it's love. There's considerable precision for an actor to have in a role like this and Hawkes nails it. You feel for Mark and can't help but remember your own experiences (we've all had them) where you thought attention meant something more than it was. It's all due to how Hawkes makes Mark relatable to the audience, however foreign his circumstances seem.

In addition, he's incredibly funny in the role. There's a sense of joy and wonder to Mark that's completely genuine and incredibly infectious. The key to all of the comedy that ensues is Hawkes' decision to play every scene straight, instead of trying to push something funny. His reactions are all real, as opposed to going for, say, a punchline in certain scenes. He trusts that the comedy is there in the script and stays true to his take on Mark being a guy who is simply eager to experience something new.

Playing off of what Hawkes does in these scenes are Hunt and Macy, both terrific in their roles. Cheryl is not a character you would immediately associate with Ms. Hunt, but what she brings to the role immediately reveals why she's perfect for the role. In Cheryl's first scene with Mark, she's completely nude and explains the rules of their relationship in a very casual manner, achieving both a vulnerability and a commanding nature to the character. Hunt is fearless as Cheryl and is quite the perfect match for Mark's awkward inexperience.

Mr. Macy on the other hand makes the decision to play Father Brendan as a friend to Mark first, his priest second, and that works in the film's favor. Father Brendan is new at the church, and from the moment he and Mark first meet, there's instant chemistry, which hints that Mark has never really had a best friend to talk to about what he's feeling. Macy also helps to bring out some of the comedy, specifically in his reactions to Mark's sexual desires.

It's the three leads that make The Sessions an enjoyable film, as well as the decision by writer/director Ben Lewin (a polio survivor himself) to make the film a comedy, even if, at times, Lewin seems to struggle with tone. There are scenes in the movie - such as one involving Cheryl's theory that Mark blames himself for his sister's death as a child and as a result he feels undeserving of pleasure - that suggest a much darker film. I had the sense that there was a story Lewin wanted to explore further but decided to abandon in favor of a more lighthearted tale.

Furthermore the ending is a mixed bag of emotions and feels more abrupt than natural. Without spoiling what happens, I'll say that a character who ends up being significant to Mark shows up in the last five minutes of the movie, and you can't help but ask why that person is not introduced much earlier and explored a little more. Lewin seems to abandon the comedy and go straight for the heart instead of maintaining the feel good nature of the story. It's this tonal shift that prevents the film from being great, which is unfortunate considering how good the rest of the film is.

The actors made me forgive this misstep at the end of the film, enough to still call The Sessions a good movie. Hawkes continues to prove what an amazing, talented actor he is with every new role and Mark is the perfect vehicle for Hawkes to showcase these skills. It's a film that's saved by the actors involved, all of whom bring a certain commitment to their roles that is both admirable and enjoyable. If you're in the mood for an unconventional sexual comedy, The Sessions will surely lift your spirits.

End of Watch ★★½

The Found Footage Genre Applied To A Buddy Cop Movie Proves Ineffective

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

An up close and personal look at the lives of two hotshot police officers patrolling South Central, End of Watch is about as gritty as it gets. Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña star as Brian and Mike, two Los Angeles cops who get more than they bargained for on an almost weekly basis. Brian is taking college classes on the side, one of which happens to be a film course. For one of his projects, he decides to outfit himself and Mike with mini-cameras so that whoever watches his finished film will get a first person perspective of their daily routines.

The interesting stylistic choice on the part of writer/director David Ayer, who has an obvious affection for the found footage genre, is abandoned midway through the movie. But it's not unwelcome, considering within the first twenty minutes or so even the criminals that Brian and Mike are chasing have cameras, the reasons for which are never explained. Once the switch occurs, you're immediately aware of it and it takes away from some of the film's emotional impact; you no longer believe in the vision of South Central Ayer set out to show us. Instead, you realize that this is just hyper stylized world that is nothing more than the creation of a gifted filmmaker.

This is not to say that the film doesn't have certain things going for it. Gyllenhaal and Peña have terrific chemistry, so much so that even when Ayer is is making mistakes stylistically you still believe that these guys are actually cops. Gyllenhaal's Brian is tough and brazen, pushing the limits of his job a little too far, while Peña plays Mike equally as assertive as Brian is, albeit with a more level head on his shoulders. You immediately see why these two are not only partners but best friends, and they keep you invested in their story.

That story is one that leads to a lot of dead bodies, mangled cops and the Mexican cartel, all of which seems like a little too much over the span of time that the movie covers, which seems to be about a year, maybe two. While both leads are good, Ayer, for all the realism he's going for, doesn't seem to have a grip on reality. He's too chaotic for a movie about chaotic circumstances and too indecisive to stay with one style. The result is a film that happens to have solid performances from its actors but falls short of being anything memorable.