When adapting a novel to the screen, a director may choose one of two routes: stick to the facts, especially the plot points, of the original work, or follow the same emotional arc as the literary forbear, perhaps treading over a few accuracies along the way. David Yates has opted for the former in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, but only just so. While the digital wizards were busy making sure audiences leave the theater thoroughly wowed, the overall story of this sixth installment seems to have been left by the wayside.

Half-Blood Prince spends most of its time in the troubled world of adolescent love instead of, you know, that whole end-of-days wizarding war that’s been going on. Sure there are death eaters and imminent danger and wands-out moments of intensity, but this film seems to be all about the snogging gossip around the halls of Hogwarts. It’s not that I don’t care for these bits of the plot, it’s that these amorous sidelines were always supplemental to the magic, not fore-fronted.

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Too often, we as viewers fall into filmic ruts. We convince ourselves that our understanding of a particular topic, character or time period has been perfected; questioning such concepts would be blasphemy, or at the very least uninteresting. Collectively, we must be shocked out of such beliefs. With Public Enemies, director Michael Mann has taken everything we thought we knew about the gangster film, deconstructed it, and put it back together into something wholly different and occasionally successful.

Johnny Depp slips into the bad boy role of bank robber John Dillinger. An opening title card informs us that he was enjoying the golden age of bank robbing, though this is hardly a heist film. There is some talk of a big “score” early on, but instead of any major planning going into the robberies, Dillinger and his partners rob as often as needed to pay the bills. The film plays more like a biopic than  anything else, but that doesn’t mean it is wholly impotent in the shoot ‘em up department. Read on…

There are many kinds of war films. Those that celebrate the heroism of men and women who rise to the occasion and those that examine the absurd event that is conflict; those that glorify the gory action on the ground and those that question the human event in its bloodiest hour. The Hurt Locker manages, quite impressively, to check off all of the above and then some. It is a heart-stopping thriller set amidst the modern quagmire that is Baghdad that never lingers long enough to feel preachy yet manages to suspend you in moments of extreme tension for what seems like eternity. In other words, it’s a bad ass good time.

Director Kathryn Bigelow, probably most well known for the 1991 surf action film Point Break, decided to stem the intellectual deconstruction of the war in Iraq that has hampered most recent attempts to bring the conflict to the big screen. Instead, she has no bones about making a first rate action thriller. The opening scene alone, in which a radio controlled robot breaks just before it can detonate an IED, is worth the price of popcorn. If you can’t handle it straight away, leave the theater.

In need of a new Bomb Tech on their team, Sergeant JT Sanborn and Specialist Owen Eldridge find themselves under the command of Staff Sergeant William James. James is a reckless cowboy who rarely lets the others in on his half-cocked plans as they traverse Iraq in search of bombs. The relationship that the three form is complicated to say the least. In Sanborn we find a rationalist who offers us a moral grounding. Eldridge is more complex, a man-child thrown into the war probably trying to prove his strength.

But the most interesting character is certainly Sergeant James, played with boyish bravado by Jeremy Renner. Acting as if he is an army of one, James always seems to come out in one piece no matter how stupid his plans seem to be. As soon as we feel we know him and understand his motivation, he goes and does something even crazier. Not quite a patriot nor a mercenary, his character slowly unravels and we begin to see an incredibly strong deconstruction of modern masculinity. I don’t want to get into the details because it is the little things in this movie that become shocking to you as it progresses.

Ms. Bigelow has done what many of Hollywood’s biggest guns have failed to do: make an interesting film about Iraq that people will actually watch. Steering clear of political statements, she has crafted a solid character study amidst the most important international issue our nation is embroiled in. It’s the Iraq movie we have been waiting for, but we hardly notice that fact as we wipe the sweat from our brow and stand up from the edge of our seat.

As my twitter followers may know, I dragged my bones to the IMAX at 2 am last Wednesday to check out Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. It has taken me longer than usual to sit down and review the film mainly because the airwaves are clouded by so much of the same everywhere. In an effort to speed things along and get the candler blog back on track, I have decided to simply offer up my opinion on the film in short bullet points. Is this a cop out? Yes. Will you forgive me? I hope!

Is Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen a good film?

In short, no. However, it is not the worst film ever. I would say it beats out X-Men Origins: Wolverine for overall watchability. The plot is almost non-existent and clunky at it’s most coherent points. Though the film may have generated an incredible amount of box office receipts, it does not stand out as a great action film to say the least. There are too many characters and the camera is always moving in a manner that makes it impossible to focus on anything. But don’t worry, there is a choice soundtrack to ground your auditory senses at least. Read on…

After 2004’s Melinda and Melinda, there were rumblings among the faithfuls that follow Woody Allen’s every move that the master had lost touch with the New York, that the film felt more like real estate porn, they decried, than an actual New York story. We want the old Woody back, they decried, we want to be enchanted by the greatest city in the world yet again! Following a four film love affair with Europe, Mr. Allen returns home to the big apple, but not to quell the masses. With Whatever Works he comes at us swinging with a very clear message: that we should shut the hell up and let him be.

The film opens with Boris Yellnikoff, a surly retired physicist played byLarry David, sitting with a group of friends, prattling off some choice Woody Allen favorites: the meaninglessness of life, the inherent evil within people, the realization that everyone on earth is an idiot, and so on and so on. To wow the die-hards even more, Boris stands up and directly addresses the audience, launching into a monologue that feels mimeographed right out of Annie Hall. Stylistically I have no problems with the way this fourth wall breakage happens, it’s actually quite funny. The trouble is with our lead actor. When Woody himself bares his soul in his 1977 Oscar-winner, there is an emotional purity in his words; when Larry David does it today, he is trying to become something he is not, an actor. Read on…

Tony Scott films tend to be violent, profane, and intellectually apropos. The limey director’s latest, The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3, hits all of those points on target, though unfortunately, just so. The actioner doesn’t thrill quite as well as his Deja Vu, nor does it smack of a weekend-long peyote trip like his brilliant (yeah, I said brilliant) Domino. Still, for a New York action film, Pelham delivers the goods for most of its run time. To see an NYC action film that really stinks up a portrayal of Manahttan gunplay, check out Richard Donner’s 16 Blocks.

The only relation this remake has to Joseph Sargent’s 1974 thriller of the same name is a title, so let’s not bark up that tree of comparitive cinema. Mr. Scott is a big boy, we can judge his film without the prism of history. The story follows Walter Garber, an MTA muckity muck sentenced to working a dispatch mic after a scandal involving Japanese kickbacks. Played by Denzel Washington, Mr. Garber happens to be on the recieving end of a phone call from a terrorist who goes by the name of Ryder, played by John Travolta. Having hijacked a single car of a 6 train and cut off transit along that track, Ryder demands $10 million and the ability to stay on the line with Garber. So there you have it, the makings of a tight little thriller. Except, not really. Read on…

The comedy short has a long and illustrious history in cinema. In modern times, the art is still alive but exhibition spaces are limited. As a result, film festivals have become the number one destination for these little films. deadCENTER has its share of shorts programs, but I was only able to check out the comedy section because I needed a laugh. Did I get one? Let’s take a look.

Ten For Grandpa — dir. Doug Karr

This slick little short follows a man wondering who his departed grandfather really was. The camera flows between scenes, across time, and across rooms to create the illusion of fluidity. This is extremely well executed, but I do wonder how much of this film actually qualifies as comedy. If anything is a joke, it seems to be the efforts the filmmakers went to to pull off these shots. Every time we enter a new space we are supposed to be wowed into a laugh; the form is so over the top for such a little film. The choice of the 2.35:1 aspect ratio seems like an arbitrary choice; the piece may be funnier with more vertical space. Of course, we would lose that slickness. Ten for Grandpa is tight, well executed, well acted, and fully realized. Overall, it is a very strong piece and I want to see more from all involved.

The Last Page — dir. Kevin Acevedo

The best part of this short is the Dodge College opening logo. Its self-assuredness provided me the biggest laugh all day, but sadly, all logos must end. The film goes on to depict the terribly tired premise of a writer envisioning the final page of his novel. The writer goes for a walk ends in him getting into all kinds of “wacky trouble”. I realize this is a student film, but still, it is fraught with problems. Again we have an unjustified 2.35:1 aspect ratio. The biggest issue of all is the runtime. At 22 minutes, the piece is more than twice as long as there is story. Most offensively, the laughs are unexplained. Why, Mr. Acevedo, is it funny when a rotund woman grabs the writer’s crotch? If you are out there, defend your joke. And to the professors at Dodge College at Chapman University, please guide your students to kill their favorite babies and cut their pieces down to size.

The SPAM Job — dir. Padraic Culham

Stone faced after the last bit of drek, I was determined not to laugh once through this cheap-looking documentary, but it wore me down over time. I couldn’t help but chuckle by the end. Through interviews and photos, the story of one prankster’s stolen spam becomes clearer and clearer. It sounds dumb and that is the point. The joke here seems to be on us for making it through the whole damn story. This “cheap” feeling I mentioned only adds to the charm of the piece, you simply don’t expect how far they are willing to take this joke about a can of spam ending up in different locales across the globe. The piece is a little fat, could be cut down to size. I could see this as a sketch on a late-night comedy show, that is if Mr. Culham and friends have any other notes up their sleeves.

Cherchez la femme — dir. Idit Dvir

Comedy has a darker side that is briefly explored in this short. A man dressed like a taco wants to kill himself over a woman until he finds a friend in another suicidal man with far different love troubles. Slowly we learn that the man’s wife cheats on him while he is home, so the taco concocts a plot to kill her off. The film takes too long to get to very little payoff, though one of the purest laughs during the shorts program came out of the film. Once the murder is imminent, the murderer must continue having sex with his victim through tears. As an audience, we are left with no emotional output except laughter because our other options simply won’t do given the rest of the film. This one laugh is impressive, but it doesn’t make up for the slow pace of the rest of the film, not to mention the pre-required misogyny one needs to find humor throughout. Ms. Dvir assumes a lot about her audience’s beliefs: that walking tacos are funny, that promiscuous women are sluts, and that murder is a natural progression from anger. Focusing in on these muddled corners will help to make better work in the future.

Tom’s Day Off — dir. Justin Stanley

Sigh. I believe in film criticism as a tool to help filmmakers better their work over time, but when I am given nothing to work with I feel there is nothing I can offer. This is how I feel about Tom’s Day Off. It’s such a mess that I would rather the filmmaker, Justin Stanley, go make something else and bring it back so I can actually give some critique. Apparently, after being dumped a lanky bank employee chooses to rob his place of business. Then he ends up in the back seat of a student driver’s vehicle with no plan. There are no laughs, no plot, no aesthetic quality to speak of. Mr. Stanley probably thinks he’s a genius with his use of an inner monologue interspersed with diegetic dialogue. The bigger question is what place this film has in any film festival. The 10 minutes of space this took up could have been used so much better.

Miracle Investigators — dir. Jeremy Dehn

The program finished off with this crowd pleaser. Overall, this is a lame mashup of kung fu action and outdated church humor. Still, the laughs are there, and that is respectable for a student film thrown into this mix. The film follows two priests charged with meting out justice against perpetrators of false miracles. Unfortunately, this goofy premise never really comes to fruition. The film bumbles along from joke to joke with a plot that hardly makes any sense. It seems that it didn’t matter since the laughs were there. The makers of this film would do better to cut it down to about a 5 minute sketch and really focus in on each joke. Nonetheless, a valiant effort.

Blayne Weaver’s second feature, Weather Girl, is a predictable love triangle that dabbles in a grab bag of independent filmmaking clichés that we, as a viewership, are so over. So what? It made me and the entire audience laugh. Here at the candler blog I don’t usually let films off the hook so easily, so how could I say that Weather Girl gets a pass because it made me laugh? The film is tight and the laughs are genuine in ways that other films, many many other films, aren’t.

The film follows “sassy” weather girl Sylvia after an on air Network inspired freakout leaves her jobless, homeless and manless. She moves in with her slacker brother and his cute-in-a-dirty-kinda-way philosophy major neighbor. Hmmmmm, I wonder if she’ll find love under these wacky conditions? Wait! Maybe she’ll not only find love, but she’ll find herself while searching for it. It is formulaic to say the least, but like I said, who cares?

Over the years, festival films have become the next best thing for an audience always on the prowl for new surprises. I think we can look at them a bit differently. Mr. Weaver’s film is an excellent exercise in comedic timing, and I believe we will see wonderful things from him in the future. For my money, he should direct a film that someone else wrote as that seems where his strengths lie, but I’m just a critic. What do I know?

We get nice performances from Tricia O’Kelley, Patrick J. Adams, and Ryan Devlin, as well a gloriously smarmy Mark Harmon. My personal favorite perf comes from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s Kaitlin Olson. She doesn’t get that much screen time, but when she does, she shines. I would also like to point out that, especially in the scenes that take place on the morning news show, editing plays an enormous role in the comedic tension that is built throughout the film. A huge pat on the back goes to editor Abe Levy who cut those laughs into shape.

Over the years, the rom-com has become something of an art form. Hitting the right emotional beats for a crowd that doesn’t want to invest too much of themselves in a story is not an easy task, but Weather Girl seems to accomplish this. The audience stuck with it and had some great laughs along the way. What more could they really ask for? A better movie? Yeah, get on that Mr. Weaver. What’s next?