The Man with the Iron Fists (USA/Hong Kong; RZA, 2012)

       RZA has taken his passion for classic martial arts flicks to the ultimate level, not only co-writing, directing and, naturally, composing the music for this outrageous battle-fest, but also casting himself as the title character, a Buddhist-trained runaway freedman who replaces his severed forearms with, you guessed it, iron  fists (although he may not be the most convincing actor around, his lack of subtlety is beneficial here). Including much of the genre-related factors that one would expect from a homage to Shaw Bros-like kung fu movies, such as feuding animal-named warrior clans, a beautifully treacherous madam, acrobatic action and Gordon Liu, Man in the Iron Fists goes beyond being a mere tribute to its source material and becomes an entity that stands on its own. With exaggerated blood splatter à-la-Riki-Oh, some of the most caricatural characters to ever grace the silver screen (Silver Lion, with his Artist-formerly-known-as-Prince wig, is especially hilarious) and stylish photography that constantly strives to be cool, the result is quite an impressive spectacle. However, while some of the fighting sequences are graceful and poetic (see the creative concept of the Gemini warriors), the bulk of the action is greatly distorted by choppy editing and brusque camera movements. This detail is compensated, on the other hand, by appropriately over-the-top performances, sensational violence and beautiful ladies, all the instant gratification one would expect from a satisfying exploitation film.

Holy Motors (France/Germany; Leos Carax, 2012)

      If you like conclusive answers with your cinema, Holy Motors may not be the film for you. On the other hand, if you seek cinematic creativity that offers the viewer's imagination multiple possibilities for extrapolation, then you've come to the right place. While one scene halfway through the movie partially sheds some light on the nature of Mr. Oscar's (Denis Lavant) series of bizarre 'appointments' throughout the city of Paris, the film's strength lies in the maintained magical mystery surrounding Oscar's disparate personalities that he creates in the dressing room located in the back of the limousine that drives him from one performance to the next. From Mr. Merde kidnapping Eva Mendes to a killer who dresses his victim up as himself, Mr. Oscar's face changes more often than Orlando Hudson changes baseball teams. The increasing strangeness of each 'appointment' emphasizes the elastic nature of performance in a way that underlines the unreliability of images as grounds for truth-seeking. Packed with cultural allusions, complex characters and breathtaking imagery, Holy Motors, through its inquisitive entertainment, realizes like few others the full potential of what cinema can be.

The Master (USA; Paul Thomas Anderson, 2012)

     P.T. Anderson has come a long way since Hard Eight (1996) and Boogie Nights (1997). With The Master, he demonstrates a maturity in style that goes beyond quick dolly-ins and long, sweeping camera movements, shifting the attention away from his direction and towards the players who make his unconventional story come alive. Without a doubt The Master is a performer's piece, and quite a perplexing one at that. Remaining vague as to character motivation (greed, insanity, lust, love?), Anderson is a master himself at creating expectant tension out of what could easily be considered very boring and non-eventful situations, an achievement mainly made possible by his ability to bring out the best in his actors (and letting the camera roll). The 'processing' scenes pitting Joaquin Phoenix's deeply troubled WWII veteran against Philip Seymour Hoffman's Welles-like cult leader are powerful and satisfyingly disturbing. Phoenix is especially captivating in his hunched-over instability, delivering here what could possibly be his strongest performance to date (although I haven't seen Two Lovers yet). The seeming simplicity of the film's story-line masks a deep complexity that is embodied through its ambivalent, hard-to-sympathize-with characters. This complexity eventually gets transposed to the evolution of the narrative itself, culminating in events that seem to happen out of the blue and with questionable roots as to cause and effect (most notable is the phone in the movie theater scene). By raising more questions than answers (which might be why I've read so many negative comments from viewers), Anderson once again explores the intangible fabric of human nature by stretching the conventional limits of cinematic expectations. While The Master may not appeal to viewers in search of full-on entertainment, it is worth watching for the haunting performances alone (and just when you thought Philip Seymour Hoffman couldn't get any better).

Flight (USA; Robert Zemeckis, 2012)

   
          I thought it interesting, and slightly curious, that Zemeckis, waiting 12 years to direct a new live-action feature after 2000's Castaway, would once again tackle a narrative revolving around a plane crash. However, where Castaway was relatively refreshing in its principal subject matter (isolation on a deserted island), Flight is not showing us anything new about its own (repressed alcoholism). Instead, its main goal seems to be to deconstruct Denzel Washington's typical screen persona, mainly resulting in the revelation of a vulnerability that eventually leads him to lose all self-control (and get romantically involved with a white woman, typically a big no-no for Denzel), something we haven't seen him do very often before the end of a picture. Even when Washington portrays morally ambiguous characters (Man on Fire, Training Day, American Gangster) he seems to maintain some degree of authority over the events unfolding around him, before an untimely death deprives him of the privilege to continue doing so. In Flight, the only time Whip is in complete control is when he is crash-landing the free-diving jumbo jet during what is arguably the film's most memorable scene. Throughout the rest of the picture, he is at the mercy of his self-denied addiction around which the bulk of the film revolves. Unfortunately, this loss of control is predictably overcome and by the end of the picture we are left with good-old repenting Denzel who has discovered the redemptive powers of the grace of God. While there is technically nothing wrong with the finished product (on the contrary, everything is in fact brilliantly executed) the script lacks any real creative insight when it comes to character exploration. Without Washington's powerfully convincing, persona-shattering performance, Flight might have been just about another barfly refusing to end his days of wine and roses.

Ted (USA; Seth MacFarlane, 2012)

     It would be easy to say that Ted is Family Guy with fur. Not only is the title character's voice almost identical to Peter Griffin's, but the raunchy, pop-culture-referenced, sex-based comedy mirrors that of the popular cartoon series. The difference, however, lies in the pertinence of the laughs to the film's main plot. Granted, the premise is very simple and nothing to shout about, but at least, in contrast to MacFarlane's show, the jokes generally move the story along instead of standing alone in isolated cutaways. While it could be argued that it lasts a bit too long (Woody Allen understood that the best comedies wrap themselves up inside 90 minutes) and comes close to losing its hold on the audience, Ted is still much more satisfying than most recent American comedies (seen The Watch anyone?), a quality also attributable in no small part to Mark Whalberg's laid back, doe-eyed, warmhearted portrayal of a Flash Gordon infatuated man-child who is forced to choose between his girlfriend (Mila Kunis) and his bear. Much like the chemistry between man and teddy, the film's suspension of disbelief is surprisingly easy to grasp onto (Ted's sudden life being simply attributed to the power of a 'child's wish') as Ted's furry antics give us the most original, laugh-out-loud bromance comedy since 2009's I Love You Man (and you don't have to be a Family Guy fan to appreciate it).

The Last Starfighter (USA; Nick Castle, 1984)

     It's an ironic testament to the rapid evolution of technological progress that a film attempting to emulate the experience of playing a video game has, almost 30 years later, been surpassed in visual quality by video games themselves. Indeed, the continuous advancements made regarding visual effects has caused many technology-based films of the 80s, such as WarGames (John Badham, 1983), Tron (Steven Lisberger, 1982) and Weird Science (John Hughes, 1985), to seem dated and hard to take seriously for today's audience. Of these titles, The Last Starfighter is arguably one that has aged the best. While the computer generated star-fighting sequences sometime seem bare and without texture, they are balanced out by still-convincing make-up jobs and solid art design. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the acting, which generates more laughs than I'm sure were initially intended. Lance Guest, a TV actor in one of his few film-starring roles, does a frigid job of playing Alex Rogan, the title's last starfighter, a qualification that incidentally helps his complimentary performance of Beta Alex, the robot left on Earth to take his place after he is recruited to save the galaxy. At times cheesy, at times breathtaking, The Last Starfighter remains often enjoyable and surprisingly easy to go along with. 

Cloud Atlas (Germany/USA/Hong Kong/ Singapore; Andy Wachowski, Lana Wachowski & Tom Tykwer, 2012)

     This clearly is one ambitious movie. It makes me wish I had read the book beforehand so I could truly know just how ambitious the filmmakers were. Considering the wider scope of the novel format, one can assume that David Mitchell's book contains even more information than the cinematic adaptation, which is already heavily packed as it is. So much so that three directors were needed to handle the complicated logistics involved. Furthermore, in an attempt to reinforce the interconnection between the several narratives (6), the film stretches the limits of acting versatility by casting the same performers in widely different roles. Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugo Weaving, Doona Bae, Jim Sturgess, Jim Broadbent and Hugh Grant, to name a few, all play various characters that not only exist decades apart, but also within several layers of storytelling, such as a movie or a book, that are present in the main narrative(s). Without going into the specifics of the narratives themselves, it is interesting to see how one narrative feeds off the other, the connections between time, space and man progressively becoming clearer as the film unfolds, creating some kind of 'slipping' effect that seems to break apart the singularity of each story. This 'slip' is also evident through the make-up work done on the actors. While it is possible that the filmmakers intended the audience not to recognize the disguised actors, I believe that the resemblance of the actor from one character to another reinforces the connection between said characters and the stories in which they figure. In other words, I believe the recognition of actor duplication was intentional (if not, then the transformation of Doona Bae into both a Mexican woman and a Victorian American housewife leaves much to desire) and crucial to the film's projected wholeness. Brilliantly handled in the hands of the Wachowski siblings and Tom Tykwer (quite a team-up), Cloud Atlas is worth seeing if only for of its refreshing creativity and storytelling sophistication, not to mention the always-refined photography and entertaining performances. Whether you believe in its ideas or not, Cloud Atlas rewards those patient souls who are willing to be whisked away by its all-encompassing symphony.

Damon Wayans: The Last Stand? (USA; Terry McCoy, 1990)

      It is interesting to watch old comedy routines and observe which bits are still applicable today and which ones are outdated snippets of their times. For instance, the AIDS and gay-related jokes of Eddie Murphy's Delirious (1983) and Raw (1987) stand-up shows seem ignorant and explicitly bigoted when seen today. However, Murphy's influence on future comedians cannot be denied and is felt strongly here as Wayans deals with similar topics such as police brutality, muscle men trying to fuck you in the ass (Mike Tyson standing in for Mr. T here) and the proper way to satisfy women sexually (incidentally, Raw is explicitly referenced by Wayans when talking about his nephew). While Wayans 'Handy Man' bit may be a bit controversial, if not flat-out insensitive, most of his material stands the test of time, even if his observations on the increasing gangstarization of black youth in NYC may lose some of its immediacy. The main exception to this may be Wayans long segment on the hypocrisy of televangelists, a phenomenon that grew staggeringly popular during Reagan's 80s. The characterization of, and reference to, these disgraced personalities may be hard to fully grasp for those without the historical knowledge of what and who they were. In any case, regardless of actuality, Wayans confirms with his last stand that laughter is indeed truly his game, no matter what decade you may be watching him from.

The Campaign (USA; Jay Roach, 2012)

   
     Released near the end of this year's real-life presidential election, The Campaign would have been the perfect vehicle to evoke the satirical nature of politics and reflect upon its use of artifice.  While it does exaggerate a few truths of political campaigning (such as skirting around issues and having to re-organize your entire life in order to create a self-image that appeals to the widest demographic), the film too often slips into weak slapstick and cheap, sex related humor. When unopposed 4-term congressman Cam Brady (Will Ferrell) commits a major faux pas (sex related obviously), the Motch brothers (John Lithgow and Dan Aykroyd),his corporate financial backers, realize Brady's political career is disintegrating fast and decide to severe their ties to Brady. In his place, the Motch brothers select tourist guide Marty Huggins (Zack Galifianakis) as their candidate, the oddball son of a rich and ruthless former campaign manager (Brian Cox). The two candidates seesaw through the polls using a string of attack ads that gradually increase in sleaziness, culminating in a TV spot representing the ultimate marriage of sex and politics.
        As a comedy, the film benefits greatly from its proven cast and outrageous moments. However, the too frequent reliance on crude sexual humor somehow overshadows its political and social critiques. Don't get me wrong, I laughed my ass off when Ferrell punched the baby (talk about your
PR reversals), I was just disappointed in the film's ultimate superficiality when it had such a promising start. I guess we will have to wait a little longer for another Wag the Dog (Barry Levinson, 1997), Primary Colors (Mike Nichols, 1998) or Bullworth (Warren Beatty, 1998). Meanwhile, it looks like we're stuck with another political comedy in the tradition of My Fellow Americans (Peter Segal, 1996), although thankfully much funnier.

 p.s. Where's Bob Roberts when we need him!