THE CALL OF THE WILD (2020)

Rated: PG

STARS: Harrison Ford, Dan Stevens, Omar Sy, Cara Gee
DIRECTOR: Chris Sanders
GENRE: Action/Adventure

Who Framed Roger Rabbit really started all of this silliness. Real people interacting with cartoon characters. (Real people--not actors! Well, they are actors. Let's not go there). Now it's gotten way, way out of hand. In The Call Of The Wild, the latest adaptation of the classic Jack London novel, the CGI technology has been perfected to a state of "less obvious," but only a little kid might not catch on (and this is definitely a kid movie).

Roger Rabbit was an animated anthropomorphic character. Buck, our canine hero in The Call Of The Wild, is a CGI (computer generated imagery) anthropomorphic character--meaning he's an animal that possesses human characteristics, like critical thinking and facial expressions that indicate he understands everything people are saying to him. 
All the other animals in the film--the dogs, the bears and the birds (minus Clifton Clowers) are CGI creations as well. The technology has come a long way, and you can almost be lulled into believing Buck is real. Until he starts doing a lot of unreal shit.  

Buck starts out having a cushy life with a family in California. He is then dognapped and shipped off to the wilds of the Yukon, where the gold rush of the 1890s has a lot of folks all stirred up. Buck becomes part of a sled dog team for a couple (Omar Sy and Cara Gee) who deliver the mail Pony Express style over the frozen tundra. When the mail route is discontinued, Buck falls into the hands of a mean a cruel owner named Hal ( Dan Stevens). Hal will be confronted by John Thornton, Harrison Ford's character who finally shows up onscreen better late than never. Thornton is kindly but he's a lush, still grieving for his dead son.

Buck and Thornton set off together to live in a cabin in the woods, where more adventure awaits. Buck knows that John's drinking isn't good for him, so he  hides the man's bottle of hooch in the snow. Yeah, I know. It gets more woo-woo from there.

The Call Of The Wild was the very first novel I read as a kid, back when my armpits (and most of the rest of me) were still hairless. It still has a special place in my heart. This movie...not so much. It's a great sappy family film, but I'm not a family guy. And I don't dig the idea of ascribing human traits to noble animals. 

It makes them less noble.

Grade:  C

JILL'S TAKE

Collaborators have to learn to compromise and Call Of The Wild was my 'cinematic sacrifice' to Tim who had some boyhood need to see this flick. After endless minutes of animated previews geared strictly for family viewing, I knew I was in for an updated version of Fantasia meets Lassie. So I sat back and simply allowed myself to go with the flow....

I was disillusioned when I got home afterwards and asked my cat to help me unload the groceries. Buck would've done it in a hot tick. Alas, Fattycat could care less. Still, I have to applaud the minions of animatic artists who created these almost-alive animals. When bad things were happening to Buck, I gasped and groaned and cheered him on. It brought me back to when I saw Bambi as a kid. That scene where the deer was killed? I didn't get over that for years. (I still haven't.)

So even though all the animals in Call Of The Wild were computer generated, I was still able to get emotionally involved. And looking around at the audience—all seniors, by the way—I could tell they were emotionally caught up in the story too. There was even some clapping at the end.

Harrison Ford was....well, Harrison Ford. Shaggier, perhaps. But mostly strong and silent. I'm not sorry I saw this movie but it's not for everybody. (I'm just glad Tim has to reciprocate now by seeing The Way Back!)

Grade: B

THE RHYTHM SECTION (2020)

Rated: R

STARS: Blake Lively, Jude Law
DIRECTOR: Reed Morano
GENRE: Action/Adventure 

You go into a revenge/vigilante justice movie with a female lead like this one hoping it might be as engaging as The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but The Rhythm Section just seems awkwardly out of tune.

Clearly, we are meant to root for our protagonist. But I didn't find her to be that likable of a character as she goes about her bloody eye-for-an-eye quest to avenge her family, who were killed in a plane that was brought down by a terrorist bomb.

When we meet Stephanie Patrick (Blake Lively) she's a drug addicted prostitute--apparently brought to this level by the grief she is suffering. She is nervous and fidgety, and she makes you nervous watching her. When asked politely by someone to put out her cigarette, she keeps puffing disdainfully away (I hate that.)

A journalist posing as a client tips her off that the man responsible for making the bomb is right there in London. Geez....what the hell is she gonna do with that? After some soul searching, she seeks out a former MI6 agent (Jude Law) who gives her the standard admonishment that going after this guy isn't going to be worth it. But she's determined, so he puts her through some rigorous paramilitary training (which involves him beating on her a lot until she learns how to fight back), and then she is ready to go kick ass.

While searching for the bomb maker, she learns of other players who were connected to the crime, so she has to go after them too. The stage is set for a lot of hand-to-hand combat, knifings and shootings, and a lot of bouncing off the walls and crap getting smashed up.

The soundtrack is an odd mixture of songs with perhaps unintentional comic undertones. Including: "I'm Waiting for the Man" by the Velvet Underground; "It's Now Or Never" by Elvis; "I'm Sorry" from Brenda Lee; and "Dream A Little Dream of Me" by the lovely Mama Cass. 

The Islamic terrorist types she's going after are strangers to her and to us, known only by name until she encounters them. We are shown no backstory on these guys, so there's no emotional investment for us to say yeah, get this dude because he's pure evil! 

There's a twist at the end which shows you really can't trust anybody or anything (especially the impressions you get from looking at movie trailers!)

About halfway through I was doing a George H.W. Bush and looking at my watch, and that's never a good sign. 

Grade:  D

JILL'S TAKE

What a sorry way to begin reviewing the new batch of 2020 movies! Until Jude Law came on the scene, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. And who the hell is Blake Lively? Her film credits are remarkably unmemorable and, as far as I can tell, her biggest accomplishment so far has been marrying Ryan Reynolds.

As far as her role in The Rhythm Section goes, I give her high marks for looking realistically prostitutional and for working her ass off in all the (oh god, not another one!) fight scenes. For all you victimized women out there, this movie would probably be cathartic for you. Me? I felt victimized by the movie itself....

So many characters, so little time to get to love or hate them. I recognized some of the actors and found myself pondering where I'd seen them before rather than paying attention to the plot. Aha! Sterling K. Brown (one of the numerous bad guys) is in NBC's popular TV series "This Is Us." And Raza Jeffrey (was he another bad guy or the journalist?) appeared in Showtime's "Homeland." Believe me, this film will definitely not help their careers.

The only positive thing I can say about The Rhythm Section is you get to see a lot of great shots of different cities: Tangiers, London, New York, etc. Hats off to cinematographer Sean Bobbitt. (No relation to Lorena's hubby, hopefully!)

Tim and I are on the same cinematic page with this one.

Grade: D

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JOKER (2019)

Rated:  R

STARS: Joaquin Phoenix, Robert DeNiro, Brett Cullen, Zazie Beets
DIRECTOR: Todd Phillips
GENRE: Action/Adventure, Drama, Suspense  

When does black comedy cross the line into just nobody's-laughing-now dark and disturbing? That's what I asked myself as I watched Joker--purportedly showing how Batman's nemesis got that way--which has its moments, and lots of them, but in the end is too gratuitously violent for anyone but teenage gamers, serial killers, and mass shooters to embrace without reservation. It's as if director Todd Philips is playing a grisly game of one-upmanship with Quentin Tarantino.

That said, I don't know anyone who can play a deranged psychopath with the kind of panache that Joaquin Phoenix brings to the role. Prancing around in his bizarre clown make-up like a marionette boogieing to the Bee Gees. 

Phoenix is Arthur Fleck, an aspiring comedian who lives with his mother and does clown gigs at birthday parties for little kids. But he does stupid things like bringing a gun along with him, which slips out and clatters across the floor, prompting him to claim it was just a prop. Arthur--who wants to be called Joker--is a tragic figure who doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, but mostly he laughs--dementedly--at inappropriate times. People don't know how to take it, so they beat the shit out of him. One can only take so much of that, and Joker's breaking point comes when he guns down three tormentors on the subway. More carnage will follow as he sinks deeper into his psychosis and the film gets progressively nastier until you're asking yourself...what's the point of all this?

I had to think about what the intended message might be. Perhaps it's that we are one major crisis away from total chaos. (There's a garbage strike in the film's fictional setting of Gotham City, and folks are getting increasingly edgy.) Or that the vicious animal lurking inside us is always there just beneath the surface, ready to bare its fangs when the psychic  signal for batshit crazy mayhem flashes before our eyes.

Joker is purely a character study star vehicle for Joaquin Phoenix to strut his stuff brilliantly upon life's stage and become his signature performance. 

Robert DeNiro as a TV talk show host serves to remind us that the movie's plot dovetails with that of The King Of Comedy.  

The film has blockbuster written all over it, but I often have trouble with blockbusters because I find them to be too comic book slick for my tastes. We have gritty and grisly realism portrayed in unreal ways--as when Joker is running from the authorities and is smashed into by a car, flipping him onto the hood in a way that would either be curtains or a lengthy in-traction hospital stay for a regular person, but this wound-up cuckoo clock just shakes it off and keeps on running.

Joker, for those who can stomach it, presents a darkly disturbing view of a dystopian world that in many ways is already here.

Grade:  C+

JILL'S TAKE

Joker is without a doubt the most disturbing film I've seen since...I dunno. The Shining? Taxi? The Black Swan? Disturbing in a good way. (If there is such a thing!) It definitely makes you think. About mental illness, man's inhumanity to man, even our own breaking points. If you're longing to feel truly uncomfortable, Joker will do it for you.

I read online that Joaquin Phoenix shed 52 pounds before playing this part. Boy did he look emaciated. Which only added to his character's innate insanity. And watching his dance moves reminded me of Michael Jackson's Thriller. I'll bet a clown's outfit he studied those moves while preparing to play this part. So now, aside from Rene Zellweger's performance as Judy Garland, we have a second Oscar contender. Since he's already been nominated three times (The Master, Walk The Line and Gladiator), I'd say Joaquin Phoenix' chances of winning are spot on.

Not since John Williams' score for Jaws, have the suspenseful tones created by Icelandic composer Hildur Guðnadóttir made me squirm in my seat. And the unrelenting darkness Lawrence Sher's cinematography only added to my discomfort.

As I experienced this film, I wasn't quite sure when reality stopped and delusional thinking took over. And I believe I was meant to feel that way. After all, madness is never simple. The character's outbursts of laughter were particularly unsettling. Later I learned that there's a specific malady with those characteristics called psuedobulbar affect disorder (PAD). In my view, Phoenix should win a Special Oscar just for being able to laugh nonstop for as long as he did.

Up until the last twenty minutes, I was ready to give this tour de violence an A. But Joker suddenly took a wrong turn in my view--from being a character study to being a message movie. I won't go into too much detail as I wouldn't want to ruin the movie. Suffice it to say that it could have easily ended a lot earlier.

Grade  B 

THE RUM DIARY (2011)

Rated: R

Stars: Johnny Depp, Richard Jenkins, Amber Heard, Michael Rispoli, Aaron Eckhart, Giovanni Ribisi

Director: Bruce Robinson

Genre: Action-Adventure/ Comedy

Johnny Depp channels his good (but dead) friend, Hunter S. Thompson, in The Rum Diary--the screen adaptation of Thompson's first novel about his adventures and misadventures in Puerto Rico circa 1960-- that remained unpublished until after the "gonzo" journalist had gained his notoriety. Isn't it funny how a piece of writing can be rejected by publishers as unworthy, but once the writer becomes famous for his later endeavors, it's suddenly not only good enough to publish, but to make a movie out of as well!!!

Depp is Paul Kemp, a fledgling novelist with a drinking problem who lands a job at the fictional San Juan Star, the island's English language daily that is on the verge of going belly up. (I landed a gig in P.R. myself in 1968, and the real San Juan Star was alive and well--in fact, being in the media, I worked with some of the reporters from that paper, which only recently ceased publication due to economic issues in 2008.)

Kemp, initially assigned to writing horoscopes by his embattled editor, Lotterman, (Richard Jenkins) obviously has a low threshold for tedium, so he teams up with photographer Sala, (Michael Rispoli) and together they get into drunken altercations with some of the locals, (helping to reinforce the image of the Ugly American...thank you very much) land in jail, and get bailed out by Sanderson, (Aaron Eckhart) an unscrupulous land developer who sees his opportunity to manipulate the young reporter into writing glowing reports about his scheme to build luxury hotels on a pristine neighboring island, and thus open up paradise to more hordes of tourists, all in the name of the mighty dollar. (The island, though never identified in the film, is Vieques-- which the U.S. navy was using as a bombing range, against the wishes of the inhabitants of the island, for many years.)

Gotta have some romance, of course, and Kemp finds himself falling for Sanderson's luscious girl-gone-wild girlfriend, Chenault, (Amber Heard) which is going to complicate things between himself and Sanderson, and lead to Kemp's epiphany, where he begins the transformation from hack horoscope writer and shill for the corporate world to crusading journalist. Here he gets to wax philosophical about truth and taking the bastards down--an attempt to steer this capricious, careening movie back onto the road and deliver something of substance--trite though the message may be.

What I liked:

• A few of the individual scenes in The Rum Diary are pretty hot--like when Kemp and Sanderson's borrowed car and borrowed girlfriend, Chenault, are speeding along, playing a game of chicken to see who will scream first with the pedal flat out to the metal. Another one finds Kemp, Sanderson, and Chenault on the neighboring island of Saint Thomas, with the hedonistic young lovely dancing and losing her inhibitions with a group of local men, amidst an aura of escalating danger to the Americanos.

What I didn't like:

• Scenes of cock-fighting. This barbaric "sport" is now illegal in all fifty states and the District of Columbia, and in many other countries as well. Sure, we're talking about Puerto Rico in the early sixties, and the cock-fighting action in The Rum Diary was monitored by the American Humane Association. Soft rubber spurs replaced the lethal metal ones that are normally used to facilitate a fight to the death. Still, there was no attempt made here to cast cock-fighting in any other light than a popular gambling event where lots of money changes hands.

In summation:

It's a patchwork kind of film--thin on plot, but no shortage of belly laughs--if you can enjoy drunken, slovenly, somewhat degenerate type characters (now I'm flashing back to my early family life!) The most unpleasant thing was the guy sitting a couple of seats down from me who was laughing so ANNOYINGLY loud and hard, I felt they should have removed him from the theater. But hey, it's the one place where you get to let it all out--where you get to be just as big of an A-HOLE as some of the characters on the screen... and things being the way they are, we surely need that.

Grade: C +

TERMINATOR SALVATION

Going in, I figured this to be a film with plenty of potential to insult my intelligence, (what's left of it) but I'm delighted as duck doo doo to report that IT DIDN'T! I'll explain why in a moment.

Terminator Salvation is the fourth in the Terminator series. I saw the original 1984 film with "Ahnuld," but missed the next two, so I had some catching up to do. Fortunately, the blanks were pretty well filled in so that someone totally unfamiliar with this series could get his bearings early on.

The year is 2018, and the war between the humans and Skynet (the machines) has been raging, with the machines having decimated most of humanity. The likely here-I-come-to-save-the-day hero is John Connor, (Christian Bale) leader of The Resistance. The UNLIKELY co-hero is Marcus Wright, (Sam Worthington) a criminal who is executed in the beginning of the film, but gets resurrected (didn't insult my intelligence) to become Connor's ally in the fight--but not until Connor overcomes serious doubts about the guy. Wright has received an "extreme makeover" courtesy of Skynet, and is now a cyborg--part human and part machine (didn't insult my intelligence). Connor is thinking: Whose side is this dude on? Luckily, though, Wright's heart is still human--which is not lost on Blair Williams, (the exotic Moon Bloodgood) Resistance fighter pilot who recognizes the good in Wright from the get-go. This is where the film makes the case for reverence for ALL life--even if you don't know what category to fit it into.

Skynet has a crapload of human prisoners--they plan to develop a new kind of Terminator using live tissue. It's up to Connor to lead the resistance into a climactic attack on Skyynet's headquarters without killing the captives in the process--even though his orders from headquarters (which he rejects) are to bomb the place to smithereens, no questions asked. I like a movie--no matter what the genre--that deals with philosophical issues, and some of them in Terminator Salvation seem to reflect on the Bush-Cheney regime's handling of the Iraq war. There's the issue of "collateral damage,'' innocent civilians being killed as a result of a war strategy that assumes the end justifies the means. And there's a clear poke at the Bush-Cheney policy of torturing prisoners, when Connor balks at some of the tactics he's asked to use by emphatically stating that if we become just like THEM, what's the point of winning?

Now, here's the part where Terminator Salvation COULD have insulted my intelligence, but didn't. Blair Williams, the fighter pilot, is accosted by a number of men. She's a tough cookie--she gets her licks and her kicks in and puts up a good fight, but the men eventually overpower her. Not like that stupid character Jennifer Garner played in that stupid espionage TV series she was in, where she would routinely kick the crap out of half a dozen men all at once without breaking a sweat. That's cartoon stuff--and I can only think that the writers who try to patronize women in this silly kind of way must be hoping that once their wives or girlfriends see it onscreen they'll be extra nice to them in the bedroom.

Terminator Salvation is like the sensory overload of Christmas morning. The clanking bogeymen on the Skynet side--whether on foot, on wheels, or in the air--are such imaginative creations that you can only sit there with your mouth hanging open. It's a thrill ride of immense creative genius, and if there were ever a prudent reason for strapping moviegoers into their seats--this is it.

The only "huh?" kind of thing I can point out is that the movie is set in the year 2018. That's only nine years from now, and I highly doubt that the machines will be ready to challenge man for dominion over the planet by then. Then again, we've already come out with the "Smart Car," so you never know.

GRADE: A-