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!

Cold Fish (Japan: Sono Sion, 2010)

        Through its disturbing and unbalanced characters, in particular the film's protagonist Nobuyuki Syamoto (Mitsuru Fukikoshi), Cold Fish explores the evolution of insanity in the face of one's disillusionment about the nature of the planet we live on. When Syamoto's daughter Mitsuko (Hikari Kajiwara) gets caught for shoplifting, the exotic-fish dealer and his new wife Taeko (Megumi Kagurazaka) are introduced to fellow fish dealer Yukio Murata (Denden), an overly cheerful man who manages to get Mitsuko off the hook for theft on the condition that she works in his exotic fish shop where he hires and lodges troubled females youths (Mitsuko has been acting out in response to her father getting re-married so quickly, including giving a beatdown to her new step-mother). As Murata slowly gains the trust of both Taeko and Mitsuko, he, along with his wife Aiko (Asuka Kurosawa), begin to use Syamoto as an assistant in their extracurricular activities, which mainly revolve around serial homicide, or making people 'invisible', as Murata likes to call it. Supposedly based on true events, Cold Fish details Syamoto's downward spiral into the Muratas' twisted world of casual depravity. The former's fascination with astronomy is often invoked (through Planetarium footage) as a way to illustrate the discrepancies between Earth's beautiful, peaceful-looking surface seen from afar and its potentially ugly, degenerate character when viewed up close. This shattering of life's self-enforced illusions leads to Syamoto's mental unraveling, which culminates in drastic crimes of passion. While Sono's typically disturbing imagery is usually balanced out by polished and picturesque photography, the general cinematography in Cold Fish  consists of chaotic hand-held camera work that tries to mirror the protagonists' shocked bewilderment. When the camera remains still, however, we become privy to Sono's masterful composition and resplendent images. While the film's action and unstable camera movements pick up speed when the characters themselves get agitated (or excited), it is the moments of respite and inaction that are most satisfying.     

Miami Connection (U.S.A/ Hong Kong; Richard Park, 1987)

     It's hard to believe that just 25 years ago films like these were still being released on the big screen; thank God they did. Technically, this movie is a failure on all fronts: the actors are beyond bad and give an brand new meaning to over-acting , the script is as cheesy as it gets, the editing constantly missing a beat and the fighting choreography laughable (including victims holding back punches, just waiting in line to get their asses kicked); everything one might come to expect of a movie produced, written, (uncredited) directed by, and starring Y.K. Kim, a Tae Kwon Do champion with only one film to his credit (this one!). However, like many  forgotten cult films of the 80s, its technical shortcomings are its strongest appealing assets.
     The main story line follows Y.K. Kim and his martial arts rock band (that's right), named Dragon Sound, as they deal with violent pressure from the band whose gig they stole and the jealous, cocaine-dealing brother of one of the band member's new girlfriend. As everyone in the band (or in the whole movie) seems to be trained in some kind of martial art, every confrontation, beginning with an exaggerated yelling match, culminates in a fight of some kind, usually including stereotypical black or white ninja uniforms. The violence, hilariously graphic at times (made me think of Story of Ricky), is accompanied by attempts at drama that mark the film's funniest moments. The perfect films to watch drunk (or whatever else) with friends, Miami Connection is another great bad classic that lives up to high expectations of welcomed mediocrity.