"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.

Star Trek Into Darkness ★★

Visually Exciting; Illogical on Almost Every Level

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Remember Kirk, Spock and Bones? Remember the Enterprise and its five year mission? In case you're rusty: "To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before." Star Trek was about a future in which different nations and other worlds worked together. The Federation had its enemies, sure, but for the most part it was about the wonder of space and its endless possibilities. It was ahead of its time, to say the least, and sadly, the latest entry in J.J. Abrams' version of the series hints that we may never see that vision of the future again.

Star Trek Into Darkness has not only a bad title, but one that completely undermines what Star Trek was always about. It's as if Mr. Abrams watched the series and understood none of it, or, if he did, simply didn't care. Into Darkness is a film in which the director forces himself on the material, rather than let the material speak for itself. I was a fan of the first film, which wisely created an alternate timeline and even included the original Spock (Leonard Nimoy) so that the audience would know that the stories we all loved from that original series still existed. This also meant that Mr. Abrams was free to modify the characters, slightly, which made their introductions fresh and new, while still retaining what we always loved about them. In other words, he seemed to care when he made Star Trek. I'll say this for his directing of Into Darkness: he has a talent for creating breathtaking visuals during pulse-pounding action sequences, but when you strip that away you discover that this film is all style and no substance. You don't really have time to breathe when watching Into Darkness, and it's only after watching the film in its entirety that you begin to see its many flaws.

Into Darkness begins, promisingly enough, with Kirk (Chris Pine) and Bones (Karl Urban) racing through a red forest trying to distract a race of aliens while Spock (Zachary Quinto) attempts to neutralize an erupting volcano. When things don't go as planned, Kirk has to save Spock by violating the Prime Directive, which states that Starfleet cannot interfere with the development of alien nations. As a result, Kirk is demoted to first officer by Admiral Pike (Bruce Greenwood) and Spock is assigned to another ship. At this point it seems that Mr. Abrams and his screenwriters (Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci & Damon Lindelof) actually get Star Trek. Kirk could not allow a civilization to be destroyed and thus had to intervene, exposing the Enterprise when his friend was in danger.

I was optimistic about where the film was going right up until the villain, John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch), is introduced, at which point the film truly veers into darkness. Kirk resumes command and pursues Harrison into Klingon territory which, if Kirk is careless in his quest, will cause a war with the Klingons. From here, Mr. Abrams commits the biggest sin when he attempts to remake The Wrath of Khan, easily the best entry of all the Star Trek films.

The Wrath of Khan worked for a variety of reasons: it dealt with questions of mortality, friendship and above all, sacrifice. Once again, it seems as though Mr. Abrams watched that film and understood none of it. His Kirk is much more cocky and somehow managed to forget everything he learned in the first film. His friendship with Spock feels forced, not earned (let's remember, they only became friends in the first film because the older Spock told Kirk they needed to be), and Bones is barely even a character this time around. (The three of them and their clashing personalities were what made the original series, as well as Wrath of Khan great.) Thus, everything that happens feels false and does not achieve the emotion Mr. Abrams was hoping for. During the screening I attended, people in the audience were actually laughing at what was supposed to be the most moving scene in the film.

A lot of imagination is missing from Star Trek Into Darkness, which is unfortunate given the admiration and excitement I had for the first one. What does work comes in small doses - namely the opening, some of the action sequences, and perhaps the two best scenes in the movie, which feature conversations between Kirk and Pike. Overall, Into Darkness feels lazy and, at times, disrespectful, not only to the fans of both the original and the new incarnation, but to Gene Roddenberry's original vision of the future. The first film had the marketing slogan "This is not your father's Star Trek", which was true, but still had the heart of the original series. Into Darkness, however, feels like it's no one's Star Trek.

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. 

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.

Wreck-It Ralph ★★★★

A Lovable Animated Character of the 8-bit Kind

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Growing up, my console of choice was Sega Genesis and the game I spent countless hours trying to conquer was Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic and I were a great team until, of course, I accidentally made him jump onto a row of spikes or bash into a badnik, at which point we would start the level over. Eventually we would reach the third act of a level and be forced to defeat the maniacal Dr. Robotnik, thereby saving the helpless animals he had trapped in machines. I watched Robotnik explode thousands of times, never thinking that Robotnik may have grown tired of always being the bad guy and never getting the spotlight Sonic did. I should have been more considerate.

The writers of Wreck-It Ralph obviously had these concerns in mind while growing up, as this charming film is all about the existential crisis of Ralph (John C. Reilly), the title character and villain to a video game called Fix-It Felix, Jr., wherein Ralph breaks down buildings that Felix (Jack McBrayer) must repair in order to win the game. It's now the thirtieth anniversary of the game's release, and Ralph has had enough of the lonely life his role offers him. He wants to be the hero everyone roots for as opposed to the lug that other characters are afraid of. He's even in a villain support group (which includes Dr. Robotnik) because of his dilemma.

When Ralph decides he's had enough, he determines that the best way to be seen as a hero is to win a medal from one of the other arcade games. The game of his choice, as fate would have it, is a first-person shooter game called Hero's Duty, which involves destroying thousands of alien bugs. Things don't go as planned, and, by way of escape pod, Ralph lands in an entirely different game known as Sugar Rush, a racing game whose landscape is made up of so much candy and chocolate that I may have a cavity just from having seen this movie. From this point on, Ralph is on a quest for his medal, which is now lost in the abyss of Sugar Rush, while also trying to prove his heroism by helping out a glitch in Sugar Rush named Vanellope von Schweetz (Sarah Silverman), a 12-year-old who, like Ralph, is frowned upon for being different. Those differences are precisely what make these characters and the film itself so special.

At times, the idea of embracing one's uniqueness borders on being "too Disney" for older audiences like myself. But happily, Wreck-It Ralph has such a refreshing style and look about it that I found myself forgiving its hammer-over-the-head message and loving it for all that it is. That is, a film that has as much charm, joy and laughter as everything great that Pixar has ever created (Up, Toy Story 3, Finding Nemo, to name a few) and then some.

Part of that comes from the approach the filmmakers chose, which was making the world of a video games and the characters that inhabit them something to be taken seriously, but not too seriously. The screenplay by Phil Johnston and Jennifer Lee is so obviously personal that there's no way audiences can't relate to the material in some way. The director, Rich Moore, whose credits include episodes of The Simpsons and Futurama, understands comedy and uses that knowledge to the film's advantage. Any other director may have gone too far in one direction, but thankfully, Moore is the perfect choice to bring these characters to life.

Inhabiting those characters, in addition to Reilly, Silverman and McBrayer are Jane Lynch as Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun, the leader of the characters in Hero's Duty and the object of Felix's desires, and Alan Tudyk, hilarious and incredibly creepy as King Candy, the leader and true villain of the movie. Each of these actors are cast perfectly, bringing something truly human to each of their characters, enlivening the comedy in every scene they are in.

In addition to the characters themselves, the animation is top-notch. Both the 8-bit and modern animation work perfectly together making the film feel nostalgic but also of its time. The colors are extremely vivid, especially in Sugar Rush, while the darker tones of Hero's Duty make it feel like you're actually in an Alien movie. Fix-It Felix, Jr., meanwhile, reminds me of another one of my favorite games, Rampage, in which monsters destroy dozens of city buildings.

Wreck-It Ralph is one of the surprising delights of the year and one audiences of all ages can enjoy. It also includes an animated short feature called Paperman, a brilliant, dialogue-free movie about a man who uses paper planes to get the attention of a woman he saw for only a moment on the morning train. It's a beautiful story, and one that works perfectly with Wreck-It Ralph's themes.

I think it's time that I play one of the Sonic games again, albeit with more consideration for Dr. Robotnik's feelings of being blown up by a hedgehog.

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. 

Looper ★★½

Time Travel Just Isn't What It Used To Be, Or Will Be

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

The new film Looper has about as much plot as you'd expect in a time travel movie and then some. The story focuses on Joe (Joseph Gordon Levitt), who is known as a "Looper" (a hitman in the present who kills men that have been sent back from the future). As we're told in Joe's opening narration, time travel is not invented until thirty years down the road, and when it is, it's immediately outlawed. The only people using it are the mob who, instead of killing these men in their time (apparently disposing of bodies in the future is quite difficult), send them back to the present to be executed. There's one rule among Loopers: never let one's target escape for any reason. It seems an easy enough rule to follow, until Joe's older self is sent back to him and he gets cold feet. For those still with me, it's never a good idea to hesitate when your older self is played by Bruce Willis.

Once the older Joe escapes the film enters into its very slow second act and introduces the characters of Sara (Emily Blunt) and her son, Cid (Pierce Gagnon). Both characters are crucial to the plot in ways I suspect many viewers won't be expecting, but they're also the weakest element of the film. Any screenwriter will tell you that the second act in any story is the hardest to write; it has to keep the story going with all of the elements introduced in the first act and lead into the resolution of the third act. Unfortunately, Looper ends up being an example of a film with an unsuccessful second act.

It's not so much that taking the time to discover who Sara and Cid are is bad, or that learning more about young Joe doesn't benefit the story, it's that neither is all that interesting nor does it seem to fit within the story. We've learned enough about Joe (both young and old) from the first act of the film, so it's unnecessary when the second act almost forces the audience into believing that young Joe is a hero of some kind. He's not really, which is not to say that Joe isn't an engaging character despite his flaws. It's almost as if the writer/director Rian Johnson thought the dystopia he was creating was too dark and, as a safety measure, decided to make Joe more heroic. 

Despite it's second act, there are elements in the film that work. Aside from Gordon-Levitt, who always does a good job no matter what movie he's in, the breakout performance for me came from Jeff Daniels as Abe, the mob boss in charge of all of the Loopers. Daniels plays him so perfectly; so chillingly matter-of-fact that every scene he was in worked so well. It's a very small role, but one that has stuck with me. It illustrates what a great, understated actor like Daniels can bring to a part, big or small. In Looper, you know Abe means business, even if he talks to you like he's your best friend.

That point is made clear in a scene where Abe persuades young Joe to give up his best friend and fellow Looper, Seth (Paul Dano) for letting his older self (Frank Brennan) escape. It's a pivotal scene in the film because it achieves two things: it shows us just how bad of a man Abe is and why he's the man running the game, and it illustrates to us the consequences Joe will face if he does not kill his older self. It's perhaps the most disturbing sequence in the film in that we see young Seth's fate through his older self's scars and vanishing appendages.

Scene's like that emphasize the craftsmanship of Johnson, who has a knack for being very original, both in story and tone. His first film, Brick (his and Gordon-Levitt's first collaboration) was a dark film noir set in a high school that had elements of horror, comedy and drama mixed into it. It worked very well and proved that Johnson wasn't the kind of storyteller most are used to. His second film, The Brothers Bloom, was more light hearted and polarizing with audiences. I was one of the people that thoroughly enjoyed it because it did for me the same thing Brick did, only in a different genre. With Looper, we get that same originality but instead of his usual mixed tone, it's a consistent one, which ultimately hurt my enjoyment of it. The second act just felt too safe and conventional, especially for Johnson.

This intriguing time travel film loses itself in its seeming desire to be mainstream, which is disappointing for a movie by such a gifted filmmaker. 

V/H/S ★★½

If You Thought You Had Some Weird Home Videos...

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Horror films seem to follow trends for several years until people get tired of knowing what to expect. We've seen countless slasher films, ghost stories and demonic children, each appealing to a different type of horror audience. Most recently, the "found footage" stories have been resurrected, especially since the release of Paranormal Activity in 2009.

The new film V/H/S relishes in this type of horror genre with six unrelated short films, each dealing with a particular filmmaker's take on horror. It's an anthology of shorts, with one main storyline that tries (but doesn't really succeed) to bridge all of these films together. Documentary-like "footage" is used to tell these stories and each one pays homage to a different horror genre. Some of them work, some don't, but you can't help but admire the craftsmanship in each one. 

Tape 56 ★

This is the main story arc that introduces to several truly despicable men. We're introduced to them through a series of acts, one involving them finding a woman in a parking lot and forcibly lifting her shirt up to flash the camera as they hold her boyfriend back. They're thieves of some kind, as one of them tells the other that they're supposed to break into a house and steal a VHS tape. When they arrive at the house they find it deserted, except for an old man, apparently dead, in a recliner chair. There's a television in front of him with a VCR. One of the guys stays behind to watch one of the videos while the others go and search the rest of the house. 

Each film is introduced in this way, each time a different member of the group returning to the living room with the previous member now missing (this doesn't seem to bother any of them). The creepiest element to this story is the old man in the chair. We know that he's probably not dead and that something bad is going to happen. Obviously something strange is going on since one member of the team disappears after one video is shown. 

Overall, this is the weakest of the films. Say what you will about the horror genre, but I at least want some emotional investment in the characters on screen. As the main arc of the film shouldn't we at least want to root for these guys? There's not one redemptive quality to any of them and thus we hope that they'll be killed off quickly, which may be the film's point. For me, however, I would have preferred actual characters as a through line for the whole film as opposed to these idiots. 

Amateur Night ★★½

The story here centers around three college guys - Shane, Patrick and Clint - eager to meet women, so much so that they've attached a camera to Clint's (the nerdy do-gooder of the group) glasses to document their conquests. In other words, they want to make an amateur porn video with Clint taping it. They end up meeting some girls, one of whom takes a particular interest in Clint by repeatedly whispering to him, "I like you." Something is off about this girl - she doesn't look quite right and as the night progresses, she seems more and more otherworldly - and the camera-operating Clint suspects this but chooses to ignore it. I won't give away what happens, suffice it to say that of all of the entries in this anthology, this one is by far the most grisly. If your definition of true horror means a lot of blood and carnage, you'll probably enjoy this installment. 

For me, this one almost works but, like Tape 56, falls short with its characters. Clint is the voice of reason and is quite literally the audience to the events taking place. His two friends, however, are moronic drunks who like to take advantage of women, once again emphasizing that the approach here is to root for death over survival. 

What I like in this film is the use of the camera as an attachment to Clint's glasses. It gives us a fun, first-person perspective with some inventive angles and very disturbing character interactions. Overall it's a film to be looked at for style over substance; a lesson in finding new ways to tell the same story over and over, this time making the camera an actual character within the story. 

Second Honeymoon ★★½

Of all the entries, this is the only one without supernatural elements to it, and yet it is the one that disturbed me the most out of any of them. It focuses on a couple, Sam and Stephanie, taking their vacation out west in celebration of (as the title suggests) their second honeymoon. They've been documenting their trip via hand-held camera, interviewing each other about the day's events thus far. One night at their hotel room a woman knocks at the door asking Sam for a ride the following morning. He's disturbed, but ultimately thinks it's no big deal. That night someone else turns the camera on, recording them as they sleep. 

I doubt this entry will disturb anyone else as much as it did for me, but there's something about the voyeuristic nature of this film that gets to me. I like that it tried to be different from the rest, relying solely on human interactions to tell its story. It's also the first one that provides likable characters in the lead roles, which furthers the suspense when the intruder enters the room.

Where it falls short is in adhering to the rules laid out by the previous and following films in having something supernatural as part of the story. Yes, this is a series of unrelated films, but every single one of them do something different within the supernatural found-footage genre. Had this been a short film that just existed on its own, it may not have felt so out of place. 

Tuesday the 17th ★★★

Friday the 13th fans, this one is for you. This is the first film that blends style and substance in the right way: A group of twenty-somethings enter the woods, only to be picked off one at a time by an unseen killer, but the killer is a creation within the camera itself. The members of the group include Wendy, Joey, "Spider" and Samantha, who are on their way to to Wendy's hometown for a weekend trip. They end up stopping to go for a walk in the woods and Wendy cryptically tells them that they will all die.

Once again these characters are not all that likable, but the killer that the filmmakers decided to create here is inventive and terrifying. It uses the hand-held camera as a method with which to actually see when the killer is about to attack, allowing for originality and quite disturbing imagery. It's grotesque, over-the-top and utterly ridiculous, yet it works at delivering all the frightening elements that classic horror film fans will surely love.

The Sick Thing That Happened To Emily When She Was Younger ★★★

Living in an era where using Skype and vlogs for communication are evermore present, it's amazing that no film in recent memory has used the two-person screenshot via video chat as a method for delivering genuine fear. Making the story feel of its time and place, while also creating a tale straight out of The Twilight Zone, The Sick Thing works on a variety of levels.

The story itself is about Emily and her boyfriend, James, talking through video chat about Emily's increasing paranoia that she has ghosts living in her apartment. She misses James and eagerly awaits his visit in the coming weeks. As each night passes, Emily tries to make contact with the entities she claims are with her, while James skeptically watches through the computer. As is usually the case, everything is not what it seems. Those who use Skype regularly might think twice about what goes on behind them when chatting with a friend after seeing this film. They also may decide that using the laptop camera to examine paranormal activities where they live may not be the best investigative technique.

This is the second film that features a lead character (Emily) that is worth watching and not just another slab of meat for a killer. Emily thinks she's going crazy and we the audience, of course, know this to be false. You want to cry for her, especially when the twist is revealed and her fate seems certain. As a diehard Twilight Zone and Rod Serling fan, I found the writing here to be spot on and the twist to be a classic left fielder.

10/31/98 ★★★

Ending this anthology with a bang is the film that (finally) pays homage to the Sam Raimi Evil Dead series, with four friends, Tyler, Paul, Matt and Chad, driving around trying to find the Halloween party they've been invited to. When they find the house, no one appears to be home, yet they enter anyway.

I'll put it this way: This is not a house I would ever want to be stuck in for any length of time. Thankfully, this film gives us a group of guys who actually do the right thing but ultimately pay a steep price for their chivalry. Around Halloween there are dozens of places that host supposed haunted house tours. This film illustrates exactly what those people are going for - only this time it's real. This is by far the most supernatural of all of the installments in V/H/S, making 10/31/98 is a worthy ender to an otherwise mixed bag of tricks.

V/H/S, as a whole, has it out for women; many of the lesser installments objectify them, while others prove that if a man is actually decent enough to help a member of the opposite sex, she'll most likely kill you. I hope this is not a trend that continues in modern day horror films, as it was dated even when horror films were part of mainstream movies, but only time will tell. Overall, V/H/S almost works as a collection of inventive short films, but the lesser installments weigh it down. If there's a way to catch them individually, that might be better than sitting through two hours for about 30 minutes of good filmmaking. 

The Wrath of Khan: A Father's Day Gift

Finding Common Ground Through Star Trek

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Back when I thought I was too cool to sit down with my old man and watch Star Trek, my father attempted to connect with me by showing me one of his favorite movies: Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. I've always been close with my dad but somehow I have the "movie gene" and he has everything else, thus creating a bit of a disconnect between us. Star Trek was a way to bridge that gap, as I had grown up watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, as well as all of the Next Generation movies that followed, and he was a fan of the original series. The irony was that watching the original crew wasn't the "cool" thing to watch, even though I thought watching The Next Generation was. Even if I was still a nerd, at least I was a modern-day nerd. Or so I thought.

It was years after this first unsuccessful attempt at watching Wrath of Khan that I revisited the film and came to understand my father's love and appreciation for it. I realized that my dad knew what he was talking about (not that I ever should have doubted him) and that he was trying to show me something about movies: If a certain genre of film feels foreign or seems like something you'd never be interested in, remain open-minded and get out of your comfort zone because you may find something truly special. Isn't this why we go to the movies in the first place?

Older, and less concerned with what other people thought of my love for Star Trek, I was disappointed in myself for being so closed off when we first watched Wrath of Khan. This is a movie so full of heart that anyone who isn't a fan of Star Trek would still enjoy it. The film deals with the themes of life, death and rebirth; growing older and rediscovering one's true passion; friendship and loyalty; self sacrifice; and what it means to be human. All of these elements make what ends up being an action packed, suspenseful thrill-ride of a movie. For anyone who's not a fan of Star Trek, and for all the other skeptics out there, Wrath of Khan is a lesson in great filmmaking.

It's not necessary to revisit the original series to appreciate the story in this film. However, it's a lot of fun to go back and see how Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and Khan (Ricardo Montalbán) first met and enjoy how it all sets up the events that unfold in Wrath of Khan. In the original series episode "Space Seed", The Enterprise finds a derelict spaceship, The SS Botany Bay, with about seventy passengers who have all been cryogenically frozen for two centuries. The Enterprise crew ends up reviving Khan, who happens to be the leader of these yet unknown people. It's discovered late in the episode that they are a type of genetic supermen, created during the last major war of the twentieth century for the purposes of securing peace among the nations. Instead, they ended up trying to take over the world and were exiled in a cryogenic sleep onboard the SS Botany Bay. The episode ends with Kirk exiling Khan and his men on the planet Ceti Alpha V, where they can create and command their own new world. At least that's what Kirk thinks.

Wrath of Khan picks up fifteen years after these events, where it's discovered that Ceti Alpha V was left in ruins shortly after Khan was marooned. (The nearby planet Ceti Alpha VI exploded and shifted the planet's orbit.) Khan is hell bent on destroying Kirk, and thanks to a chance encounter with one of Kirk's men, Chekov (Walter Koenig), Khan basically succeeds. Meanwhile, Kirk, now much older, questions his place in life with his newfound promotion to Admiral. He feels old and tired, longing for some kind of purpose. It's in these moments, as well as his conversations with Spock (Leonard Nimoy) and Bones (DeForest Kelley), that the film finds it's heart. Even without knowing anything about the original series, this film does an amazing job of establishing who these characters are and emphasizing the friendship between Kirk and Spock, making the ending of the movie that much more heartbreaking.

Every time it's on television my eyes are glued to the screen. Every time the credits role I smile, thinking of my dad and how he introduced me to a show, as well as a series of films that I will always cherish. My dad taught me an amazing lesson with Star Trek. This was a rare show that chose an optimistic view of the future: civilizations working together; sexism and racism being something of the past; and an enthusiasm for exploring and discovering 'strange new worlds'. It was very much ahead of its time and maybe, to a degree, still is.

I've wanted to write about Star Trek and specifically Wrath of Khan for some time and I could not think of a better opportunity than to do so by honoring my dad on Father's Day. Despite our differences, we're very close and it's because of this relationship that I not only love Star Trek, but also any movie with a really good father/son story to tell. Yes, I get weepy when fathers and sons hug in movies; yes, one of my favorite movie lines of all time comes at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, when, after a whole movie of Indy (Harrison Ford) begging his father Henry (Sean Connery) to call him Indiana instead of junior, Henry, during a literal life and death situation says, "Indiana, let it go." What can I say except, "I blame my father".

My dad gave me the gift of Star Trek and a way of approaching movies that I'll always be grateful for. While we may struggle at times to find common ground, we'll always have Star Trek to talk about.

So to my father, and all of the other fathers out there, Trekkies or not, Happy Father's Day. 'Live Long And Prosper.'

Prometheus ★★★

More Kubrickian Than Alien

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

In his first science fiction film since Blade Runner in 1982, Ridley Scott has returned to the genre with Prometheus, the sort-of prequel to Scott's much beloved 1979 film, Alien. There's been a lot of anticipation for this film, as well as a lot of speculation as to just how much of a prequel this film really is. It's safe to say that this film takes place in the same universe as Alien, as Scott has said in numerous interviews, but it is not a direct prequel. It's also safe to say that despite the film's flaws (and there are a few), Prometheus worked for me.

The "sort-of" nature to the sequel should also be applied to people's expectations of what genre of film this is. Prometheus has many elements of being a horror film - it even includes a "birthing" scene not unlike that of the chest-burster scene in Alien - but is more in the vein of 2001: A Space Odyssey than anything else. It deals with man's desire to find out where we come from, traveling to the furthest reaches of space to get those answers, even though maybe we were never meant to understand.

One of the most obvious homages to 2001 is in the character of David (played perfectly by Michael Fassbender), an android who, like HAL, studies humans and along the way develops his own personality and curiosity. He's both creepy and a joy to watch in every scene he's in. Fassbender nails that quality of not quite being human enough for the characters to ever believe he's anything other than robotic, which is no easy task. Looking at the previous androids in the franchise, Ian Holm played Ash with more of an evil persona making it obvious that he was hiding something, and Lance Henriksen played Bishop so innocently that it was clear he was an android who wanted to be thought of as human instead of "a synthetic". Fassbender falls right into the middle and successfully creates and maintains a character of his own delivering the most memorable performance of the entire film.

I'll admit that the feeling of 2001 from the very beginning was slightly off-putting at first, given that I was one of many expecting a horror film from the onset, but once I realized what the film was doing and surrendered myself to it, I was happily along for the ride. It's the ambition of Prometheus that I respect more than anything else. It takes the standpoint that Star Trek did in the late sixties: "To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before." (Immediately fans of the Alien franchise are up in arms upon reading this review and discovering that I have, and will continue to, make many references to Star Trek with regard to Prometheus.) For the first half of the movie the wonderment of space and the optimism of exploration is very much at the forefront, especially in the character of Elizabeth Shaw, played by The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo's Noomi Rapace. She's an archeologist who, with her colleague and lover Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green), has discovered star maps all over the world that all point to the same place. Shaw is a woman of faith, despite the fact that the mission itself could prove that there's no such thing as God, simply what are known in the film as Engineers who created us. It's through Shaw that the film's initial tone takes on this sense of excitement at what the universe holds in very much the same way that Star Trek always did.

Even the musical score to the film, composed by Marc Streitenfeld, has a Trekian-like sound to it (specifically Star Trek: Generations), which further conveys to the audience that we may not necessarily be in for the same ride that we got in Alien. I like the fact that Ridley Scott returned not only to the genre itself, but to the universe of Alien and created an entirely separate tone for Prometheus. It shows that Scott had a story he wanted to tell and that he did not want to cash in on the same tricks he's done so successfully before. It's because of this different approach that some people, like myself, will feel a sense of refreshment (especially after six Alien films) and others might feel a bit betrayed.

Once the crew arrives on the moon, LV-223, we know that bad things are going to happen and it's at this point that the film's tone gets slightly lost in the shuffle. It manages to maintain its own eagerness and hopeful optimism, but also gives us scenes that come across as "eye-candy". It's as if Scott knew that he wanted to try something different, but along the way realized that audience would have certain expectations and therefore it was his job to satisfy them with bits and pieces at a time. I'm not against audience satisfaction but if you're going for something new, stick with it. It's during these horror moments that the film, surprisingly is at its weakest. Not because these scenes are bad (they're actually quite mesmerizing) but because with the tone established in the first half of the movie, they feel out of place and almost unwelcome. The script is uneven and it's clear that Jon Spaihts (The Darkest Hour) and Damon Lindelof (Lost) wrote it separately, Spaihts having more horror elements (he wrote the first draft which was more of a direct prequel and very much like the original Alien) and Lindelof taking the more philosophical approach.

With Lindelof's spin on the original concept for Prometheus, the film unfortunately veers a bit too much into Lost territory by posing more questions than it cares to answer and setting up many of those questions to be answered in a potential sequel. One of the things Lindelof is famous for saying is that with each answer to one question several more will arise. In some ways that's a fair statement and in others it's simply a cop-out. I happened to be a fan of Lost and didn't mind it's open ended nature as much as others did. After seeing Lindelof's work on Prometheus, however, it's clear that this is a man only interested in asking questions instead of trying to explore their answers, which isn't groundbreaking, it's just lazy writing. Dana Stevens, film critic for Slate, connects the film to Lost and argues in her review that Prometheus is "deep without being particularly smart, although the dazzling design and special effects keep you from noticing that basic flaw until at least an hour in." I agree with this argument but somehow still found myself won over enough to maintain my enjoyment until the very end.

Yes, the script needs work; Yes, the film's tone is mix-matched at certain points; And yes, there will never be a way to replicate that same feeling of dread that Alien did all those years ago. But it's because of Scott's acceptance of that fact and willingness to try something new that I enjoyed Prometheus; Fassbender's performance, it's homages to 2001 and Star Trek (intended or not), and its philosophical questions (answered or not) make it an interesting addition to the science fiction genre and also worthy of its own sub-category somewhere between Ridley Scott, Stanley Kubrick and Gene Roddenberry.

Men In Black 3 ★★★

It Captures The Charm of the First Film

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Like nearly everyone else who has seen Men In Black 3, I asked myself if anyone out there was really championing a third chapter to this seemingly dead franchise. The first film had that lightning-in-the-bottle quality to it by having an interesting take on the buddy-cop genre with its two leads, Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith; two people whom you would never think would work well together. Men In Black 2, on the other hand, proved that the magic of the first film could not sustain a sequel and left us all with a sour taste in our mouth. That being said, I entered this third film with great apprehension and left the theatre (surprisingly) feeling relieved and also quite glad that I had decided to see it. Men In Black 3 manages to capture that same charm that the first film did by having a time travel story in which Will Smith's Agent J must travel back to 1969 to rescue a younger K (played brilliantly by Josh Brolin) and stop an alien invasion.

It was the odd-couple pairing of these two men that worked so well in Men In Black, which this film achieves by having J and K meet each other for the first time - again. Let me explain: It's established in the present that in their fourteen years of being partners, K has never opened up to J emotionally. J tries to get little nuggets of information out of him but is lucky to get one sentence. K is both distraught and distracted when he learns that an alien that he imprisoned in 1969, Boris (Jemaine Clement), has escaped and wants him dead. Boris travels back to 1969 and kills the younger K, thereby changing the future to allow for yet another alien invasion. This leaves J with one mission: Go back to the day before Boris arrives in 1969, kill Boris before he can kill K, and put the timeline back on its natural course. When J goes back in time and finally explains the situation to the younger K, he's shocked to see a side of his partner he's never known: K is friendlier and more open, offering to tell J anything he wants to know about him. Like I said, they meet for the first time - again.

Even though it's not Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith together again (except for maybe ten minutes of screen time for Jones in the beginning and then briefly again at the end of the film) we get that feeling of nostalgia for what the first film did so successfully as well as an entirely new story that re-introduces us to these characters. Christy Lemire's review of the film claims that Will Smith comes across as bored in his role but I disagree with that wholeheartedly. I think he's aged J quite well, adding something new to the character while still reminding us why we love seeing Smith in a role like this. He's still J, just a little bit older. Jones on the other hand does come across as bored and a little out of place, which make the present-day scenes the weakest parts of an otherwise solid film. This surprised me, as I entered the film thinking I would hate it because Jones was in it so little considering he was the best part of the previous two installments.

Josh Brolin delivers the best performance of Men In Black 3. He brings his own take to the role of K, but somehow captures every bit of Jones making the audience completely buy that he is the younger incarnation of this beloved character. It's his fresh take on the role that reminds us of why Jones was so great in Men In Black. The running gag is that Brolin, currently in his forties, is playing the twenty-nine year-old K, which prompts the hilarious line from J that K has some "city miles" on him.

The supporting characters in this film enhance the world that the characters inhabit. Michael Stuhlbarg is a lot of fun in the role of Griffin, an alien who sees many timelines at once; Bill Hader is a riot as Andy Warhol; and Clement is unrecognizably evil as Boris, the best villain in the series since Vincent D'Onofrio as Edgar the Bug. If there are any complaints about the supporting cast, it's that I missed seeing Tony Shalhoub as Jack Jeebs (and for those of you out there who say there's no place for him in this film, I argue that he could have easily taken the place of Michael Chernus as Jeffery Price, the time-travel expert) and longed for David Cross to make a cameo as Newton. Yes, my own bias is always a desire to see favorite characters return, so long as their serviced, but I just felt that despite the time-travel story, there was a place for all of them to show up in some capacity.

It's no secret that Men In Black 3 had a troubled production. They began shooting with an unfinished script to take advantage of the soon-to-expire New York City tax credit, took about a four-month break to finish the script, then recommenced shooting. From the start it sounded like this film was destined to fail, but somehow, in addition to the great performances of Smith and Brolin, the film has a fun story to tell.

Time travel is always tricky and this film may be guilty of a few paradoxes, however, every question I had, both before entering the film and during it, was answered. (I wondered how if K is killed in the past and no one remembers the original timeline, J is the only one to remember K.) The film comes across as one that had a story it wanted to tell and without much effort knew where it was going and how it would end. While that doesn't seem to be the case, the film certainly could have fooled me.

These are minor complaints of a film that is a lot of fun in the summer blockbuster season. While virtually no one was championing another Men In Black sequel, I'm glad that they made this film. If this is the end of the series (and I really hope it is), I'm grateful that it leaves me with a fond memory of the franchise, redeeming it from the horror that was Men In Black 2.