"OH BOYS, I'M BACKKKKKKK"

What better way to usher in my return to the world of cinematic blogging than with the grandest quote of the most grandiose character from the most epic Sci-Fi movie? Thank you Randy Quaid, your B-list film career and debilitating alcoholism (both on-screen and off) have finally served a purpose.

Who is this Colin fellow you ask? To some, a hero. To others, a titan of the written word. To a few, he is merely a stocky ginger from Western New York with an affinity for the big screen and entirely too much free time. I'd like to think that all of these perceptions are correct. That's right cohorts, I return to you after a 15 month hiatus, and I must say it's never felt so good to be back. You may be asking yourselves "Colin, what on God's green Earth have you been doing with yourself for the past 1.25 years to the point where you couldn't spare a few minutes for us, your loyal readers and most devoted devotees?" Well friends, I could regale you with tales of cross-country plights, Texas, adventure and intrigue, the likes of which Tolkien and Rowling would find themselves weeping in a corner, but that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I've had the pleasure of taking in a slew of quite noteworthy blockbusters over the past several months, and decided there was no better time to make a triumphant return to my most beloved blog of days past.

For this first entry into what I'm calling "Reel Talk 2.AWESOME", I'm only going to write a brief blurb on each movie, as to give each piece their time in the spotlight (though some of them don't deserve it). For future posts, expect a more in-depth analyzation.

Incredible. A story about spirituality, the soul, human perseverance, and the amazing power and beauty of nature, not to mention the most stunning use of effects and CGI since Avatar. As a self-admitted cynic who typically hides his emotions behind a brick wall of sarcasm and fart jokes, I fully admit that this movie brought me close to tears at times, laughter at others, and left me purely awestruck when the end credits started rolling. Life of Pi entertained, while also telling a beautifully human story. This movie will likely sweep up all the technical and visual awards at this year's Oscars, but the real travesty would be if it wasn't considered a front-runner for both Best Picture and Best Director (Ang Lee) as well.

Phenomenal. Daniel Day-Lewis and Tommy Lee-Jones both gave one of the strongest performances of their careers (for Day-Lewis probably THE strongest), the script was brilliant, the cinematography/costumes/scenery were breathtaking, and the film as a whole completely captured the political climate surrounding possibly the most important amendment to our constitution. While you're probably expecting a movie about the Civil War or possibly about slavery, Lincoln couldn't accurately be described as either of those. It's a film that's equal parts historical, political, dramatic, suspenseful, and humorous. What makes this film so special, however, is that you don't need to be a politician or historian to enjoy it, or even understand it's importance.  While Lincoln impresses on all levels, the biggest tip-of-the-hat must go to Daniel Day-Lewis. It's challenging enough to undertake the portrayal of a historical icon and arguably our most important president ever, but to do so having nothing to mold your performance besides letters, books and the like makes the performance that much more impressive. When Denzel Washington portrayed Malcom X, he had the luxury of watching speech footage and hearing first-hand accounts of the man. Meryl Streep had similar conveniences when playing Margaret Thatcher in The Iron Lady. Heck, even Peter O'toole wasn't very far removed in history from Lawrence of Arabia. Day-Lewis, however, had to construct his character from scratch; he could have just as easily been tasked with portraying a talking hippopotamus. And yet, his Lincoln is somehow exactly as you've likely always imagined him, down to his voice and strut. A true masterpiece.

To say that I have fickle feelings about Cloud Atlas would be about as obvious as saying I have fickle feelings about the best brand of peanut butter...just kidding, LONG LIVE JIF. But seriously, nearly a month after seeing this movie I still haven't quite pegged how I feel about it. On the one hand, it was visually and technically spectacular; one might even say TOO spectacular (at times it felt like I was being mugged by a laser light show). The concept as a whole is intriguing: take a cast of 4 or 5 and have them portray different characters throughout vastly different periods in history and show how their actions affect past, present, and future versions of themselves. The soundtrack to the movie was actually very well-done; if it stands a solid chance in any Oscar category, it will likely be for it's score. Some of the acting performances were even noteworthy (Jim Broadbent in particular. That might be my well-documented Harry Potter bias shining through, though). That all being said, the film simply tried to do TOO MUCH. Characters were introduced and not fully developed, futuristic societies were explored but not explained, and relationships were left hanging.  It's a movie that you can hardly blink or pause for popcorn intake if you want a prayer of catching key dialogue and plot points, and even then you don't stand much of a chance of connecting all the dots. Maybe I just need to see it 3 or 4 more times, but for now the best I can do is give the movie an overwhelming shoulder-shrug.

What's that you say, you're looking for a movie that discreetly mocks modern scientific pseudo-cults while at the same time features scenes of shockingly grotesque group foreplay? HAVE I GOT THE MOVIE FOR YOU! The Master is about the relationship between Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour-Hoffman), the founder/leader of a cult known as "The Cause", and Freddy Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), an impressionable WWII vet who becomes one of the movement's founding members.  The movie traces the early origins of the cult, explores some of it's strange recruitment and seduction methods, and shows how truly malleable the human mind can be. While Paul Thomas Anderson and the rest of the writers and production staff viciously denied it, it's pretty obvious that the movie was telling the story of Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard, a realization that ultimately makes the movie vastly more interesting. While I would ultimately call this movie a success and say that I did truly enjoy it, it toed a very fine line with one of my main arthouse movie beefs: being artsy for artsy-ness' (lol) sake. It ended up landing relatively firmly on the acceptable side of that divide, but a single more scene that featured minimal dialogue and maximum inquisitive staring may have tipped it over into the realm of Melancholia.

I have nothing but overwhelming pride in being a huge James Bond nerd. It makes sense; he's slick, cool, and classy, drives expensive cars and gets all the ladies, so as you can imagine, watching the films is a bit like gazing into a mirror for me. Naturally I was ecstatic to see Skyfall, and I'm happy to report that it did not disappoint.  I should probably preface that with a warning that you likely will read reviews/message board rants/scuttlebutt of the opposite effect, but there’s a simple explanation for that: most people are stupid. That came off a bit harsh, let me rephrase: most people want to be spoon-fed something safe, predictable, and monotonous, and Skyfall is none of those things. It certainly doesn’t have many of the well-known trappings of Bond films to-date, and while many criticized this, I found it to be refreshing. How many more cookie-cutter versions of the same “Shaken, not Stirred”, Bond girl swooning, Astin-Martin driving films could possibly be made? Skyfall was fresh and unique, with a plot that was actually palpable (unlike the film’s abysmal predecessor Quantum of Solace), acting that was real and believable, but with the same breathtaking scenery, special effects, and action sequences that we’ve come to expect from the Bond franchise. I’m personally itching to get back to the theatre and see it again.

Argo centers on a CIA operative who, in order to rescue American hostages from a seized U.S Embassy in Tehran, assumes the identity of a film producer entering the country to shoot footage for a science fiction film. If you’re wondering why you’re not familiar with this event or why you never learned about it in college, it’s likely because the records of the entire operation were deemed classified by the CIA until the Clinton administration. Argo was a fantastic success for many reasons, but I think the biggest factor that made this movie so great was its ability to take a story that’s gripping, intense, and even scary, and inject it with the perfect amount of comedy and exactly the right times. These moments are largely due to the acting performances of Alan Arkin, one of my favorite actors, who delivers probably his most hilarious performance since Little Miss Sunshine. Tips-of-the-hat also go to John Goodman for an equally hilarious performance, and Ben Affleck for both his superb acting and directing.

 

As I just saw A Late Quartet last night, it may receive an unjustly-high level of attention, it being the freshest in my mind. The fact that this movie has flown largely under the radar of mainstream cinematic buzz is the biggest travesty so far this Oscar season, because it is one of the best that I’ve seen thus far, and certainly one of the best music-related films made in years (especially if you have an affinity for classical music).  The story is simple enough: a world-renowned string quartet faces trying times when its cellist gets diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, the 2^nd violinist and violist (who are married) start having difficulties in their marriage, and the first violinist enters into a scandalous relationship with a much younger girl. Don’t let this description paint pictures of soap opera silliness or Twilight-esque teen drama; the story is gripping and powerful. The film shows the viewer precisely how art and the human qualities of the artist co-exist.  Music is such a demanding creature, and often requires all of our efforts and energy to do it the justice it deserves, but then what is left for our relationships, loved ones, and personal well-being? A late Quartet attempts to answer this question.

Other films I've seen recently that I didn't feel strongly enough about either way to discuss them any further (Looper and Flight were especially terrible):