War Machine - What if Michael Bay directed Predator?

 

Streaming on Netflix

I have said before that it is absolutely possible for a film to be both smart and entertaining; two things can be true at the same time. However, I should clarify that when I say a movie can be “smart,” I don’t necessarily mean it has to be entirely intellectual (although that doesn’t hurt either.) For me, a “smart” movie is one that retains the necessary elements for a compelling narrative (sympathetic characters, an overarching theme worth investing in, a clever and insightful story, etc.) rather than relying upon spectacle and awesome presentations. Some prime examples include films like Robocop and Demolition Man: movies that have all the desired goods for invigorating entertainment, while containing all the required elements for proper storytelling, and offering at least a little bit of intellectual stimulation with clever commentary and insightful ideas. 

Todays subject, Netflix’s War Machine, is a film that might have joined the pantheon of other smart movie classics, were it not for its seemingly laser-focused desire to be less like of a narrative film, and more like a military recruiting video that happens to resemble a proper movie. While I do, and always shall have, the utmost respect and admiration for the armed forces, I cannot, in good conscience, give a pass to what feels like aggressive propaganda, no matter how fantastical the presentation. Even the parts that do technically work and deserve proper recognition do not overshadow the overall disappointment that is Netflix’s War Machine! 

The story follows recruit #81 (Alan Ritchson), going through the intense training regiment for becoming an Army Ranger and, in the process, hopes to find closure for an unfortunate past incident. The final test for recruitment plops him and his fellow potentials on a simulated mission, wherein they must destroy a downed aircraft, rescue a hostage, and return to base. Things take a sharp turn when they stumble upon what they assume is their target, only to discover that it is a highly advanced bipedal alien tank, which begins mercilessly slaughtering all living things it can find. Now in a fight for their very survival, #81 must take on the leadership role he had been avoiding to guide his fellow recruits to safety, and warn others of this impending threat. That is, of course, assuming they can survive against a heavily armed alien tank with no weapons of their own and severely limited resources. 

The greatest problem with this film is that it spends too much time beating its chest with uber macho military bravado, while only providing the absolute minimum of necessary narrative navigation. Sure, the protagonists troubled past is sympathetic, and the attempts at building a character arc are there, but none of it is executed well enough, nor given proper time for development to have any kind of significant impact. Not to mention, at least some of the narratives issues could have easily been fixed if some of the events were depicted in a different order. 

The only saving grace for the film is the leading man, Alan Ritchson, who apparently did many of his own stunts and successfully pushed himself as hard as possible to deliver the best kind of performance expected for a movie like this. While I have no doubt that Mr. Ritchson has talent and potential, I genuinely hope to see him in something that doesn’t spend more time taking advantage of his gladiator-like physique, and actually allows him to play a character. The roles he has had up to this point have served his known abilities well enough, but I want to see this guy do something outside of military-oriented stuff. He’s got charisma; he needs a worthwhile story to tell. 

Netflix’s War Machine is predictable, unimaginative, one sided, and offers nothing substantial to its genre, nor the talents of its leading man. While there are some decent moments scattered throughout the film, they are few and far in between, and only serve to highlight all of the films inexcusable flaws. If you must watch a movie that showcases what being in the armed services can mean and why it’s worthy of appreciation, go watch Act of Valor from 2012. It may have all the clichés of most military movies, but it utilizes them in a significantly better way. Plus, it stars actually active (at least at the time) Navy Seals. 

Skip this one entirely! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Islands - Well Intended, Not So Well Executed

 

Rent on Apple TV and Amazon Prime 

While I have always believed in and often implemented an “elegance in simplicity” approach toward filmmaking, along with a desire for authentically human storytelling, I will admit that one of the greatest challenges in such an approach is finding the right balance of style and pacing. Cinema is an art form, yes, but it is also a form of entertainment; audiences need to feel as if they are having an experience of some kind that they can’t get anywhere else. This applies to all kinds of stories, regardless of how authentic or “realistic” you intend them to be. Audiences don’t go to the movies to see real life; we experience it every day. 

Today’s subject, Islands, is a film that tries to be a realistic story with authentically-intended characters, along with a relatable theme of longing for connection, belonging, and adventure, but those worthwhile themes get a little too drowned out by the lack of engaging entertainment value, and a sense of pacing that appears to be going for a slow-burn build up, that takes way too long to reach a not-as-satisfying-as-it-should-have-been payoff. Few things are as frustrating as seeing a film with all the right ingredients, only to be bogged down by less-than-stellar execution. 

*cough* Disney’s Frozen *cough*

The story follows an alcoholic Tennis instructor named Tom (Sam Riley) at a luxury hotel resort on the Canary Islands of Spain, who goes through his daily life regularly numb and likely running from his troubles. One day, he befriends a married couple with a young son who’s interested in learning some Tennis while on holiday, and Tom seems to get along so well with the family, that he offers to be an impromptu tour guide; taking them to the various fascinating parts of the Island for a better experience. Things seem to be going well enough until the husband has mysteriously vanished, with signs suggesting possible foul play. As the investigation continues, so does the romantic tension between Tom and the missing person’s wife, as they seem to have formed an unexpected connection that may or may not mean something greater. As the police continues to search for the missing husband, who knows what will happen if he is or isn’t found? 

As I said, there is enough workable material here that could have made for a compelling narrative: the characters are understandable and have, at least, a few likable qualities; the nuances of human connections are explored (albeit not as well as they should have been); and the general theme of finding your people and wanting to be part of something perceivably special is as universal a desire as can be. At times, the film reminded me of the underrated classic, One Hour Photo, only significantly less dark and not as well paced. 

Which, incidentally, leads me to the overall primary problem with the film: the pacing. Islands is yet another strange case of what appears to be a modern attempt to “enhance” the artistic nature of a film, by presenting everything in a slow, overtly moody, and hyper dramatic fashion that, in this critics opinion, comes across less like a means of establishing mood, and more like an adolescent attempt to come across as more mature than you actually are. Stories with an element of mystery do typically benefit from a deliberate pace, but that only works when the mystery is presented within the first twenty minutes of the story, and this film doesn’t present its mysterious elements until an hour into the narrative. 

In short, it takes too damn long for the story to get moving! 

While the film gains a few points for wanting to present a genuinely human narrative with tangible goals, the lack of tangible entertainment value and overtly slow presentation leaves much to be desired. There is just enough here for an audience to understand and appreciate what was intended, but it’s not enough for a full recommendation. If you want to watch a film with a similar approach but significantly better execution, watch Adopt a Highway with Ethan Hawke; it’s streaming on Hulu (if you still have it) and available for rent on most digital platforms. 

Give Islands a shot only if there’s nothing else. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

How Not to Make a Movie 101: Directors Showcase - Zack Snyder

 

        Welcome back to class, my beautiful readers.

Today’s lesson is going to be a little different. Rather than examine a single film, we’re going to take an extensive look at the works, styles, and preferences of a particular director. While movies are made of several different parts all working together to create a cinematic experience, the director is one of the most prominent and, arguably, the more popular and glamorous of the filmmaking roles. Some directors are able to maintain the sense of collaboration with their fellow artists and find the flow of creativity when things don’t go as planned, often finding things they hadn’t yet considered better than what they initially envisioned; while some directors can be so insistent and demanding that their vision be exactly as they see it with no deviations. Sometimes the latter behavior can pay off, other times it falls apart. 

Our first subject for examination is none other than the king of slow motion himself, Zack Snyder. A filmmaker of such unusual talent (albeit severely limited), and a penchant for creating a whole new meaning to the term “Directors Cut,” Snyder seems to have created an entire new class of filmmakers, one that, while somewhat understandable, is not incredibly sustainable. While there is no denying that the man has made at least a few well crafted works of cinema, if only by accident (more on that later), Zack Snyder is the kind of artist you would find in the same class as the notorious comic book artist/writer, Rob Liefeld: someone who grew up with incredible works of art in their chosen field, took all the wrong lessons from them, and tried to build an entirely new standard of art based on their surface-level understanding of what came before. 

Class is now in session! 

Lesson 1: 

Education Over Conformity

One of the issues I have with Zack Snyder as a director is his apparent inability to completely understand the stories he is tasked with telling, preferring to merely slap his extreme style onto it; under the false impression that no further work is needed. In the world of music, Snyder could be described as a three-note artist: someone who is only able to hit three notes, but hits them so incredibly well and with such massive commitment, that it can feel more profound than it actually is. While some three-note artists have managed to skate by on repeating those notes, and a few others have actually succeeded in expanding their horizons over time, Zack Snyder does not appear to have hit that point just yet. 

As an example, take a look at his run with the D.C. Comics characters, Superman and Batman, in both Man of Steel, and Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. In both cases, Snyder and his team referred to those works as “deconstructions” of the characters: stories that dissect the characters essence and place them in an extreme situation, showcasing the inherent convictions and, for want of a better word, “soul” of the character. This can be a fantastic way to examine and demonstrate a characters tangibility, so long as the deconstruction is performed by someone who has a genuine and wholehearted understanding of the characters, which, sadly, Zack Snyder did not possess, at least not at the time. 

A more accurate description of Snyder’s work on the films Man of Steel and Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice would be a “reimagining” of the characters. Unlike deconstruction where the true essence of a character is thoroughly examined and presented under extreme circumstances, a reimagining is entirely different, wherein a character of a specific style and genre is used in a completely different presentation, that essentially breaks down to a “what if…” situation: stories that completely reinterpret a character and setting as a means of offering a different perspective and philosophy, typically based on the preferences of the storyteller. 

For example, Tim Burton’s “remake” of Planet of the Apes from 2001 (ah, I see what you did there) is largely understood more as a reimagining of a classic film, albeit not a particularly good one. It was an example of a filmmaker doing what they would have done with the material, had they been given the opportunity at the time. It can be a useful and, at times, fun chance for a filmmaker to completely demonstrate their voice and, at the same time, bring a whole new perspective to classic stories. 

The problem with most reimagining is that they also give the impression that the filmmaker/storyteller, is possibly incapable or unwilling to properly examine the material they are working with, and would prefer to conform said material to their personal preferences and styles. Essentially, it comes across less like a different artists interpretation, and more like an artists refusal to educate themselves on something different from their own experiences. 

Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel and Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice are not deconstructions of classic characters; they are massive misunderstandings masquerading as deconstructions of classic characters. While many people would argue that his takes on Superman and Batman were meant to be “modern” and “realistic,” which is completely understandable, I would argue that fictional works can still feel real without being realistic; Snyder does not seem to understand the difference, and his works with both of these classic characters demonstrate that lack of knowledge, and his apparent unwillingness to step out of his comfort zone. 

In life, as in art, we will always face situations and circumstances, wherein we must consider sacrificing a particular belief or preference, for the betterment of ourselves, our loved ones, and the material we may be tasked to work with. If we do not possess the strength and courage to consider such a task, then we have no business tackling it in the first place, and must recognize when to pass it along to someone who does. 

Furthermore, if you want to see what a proper deconstruction of a classic character looks like, check out the animated film Superman Vs. The Elite from 2012. 

Lesson 2: 

Substance Over Style

Another issue I have with Zack Snyder as a director, is his insistence on prioritizing his sense of style and favorite filmmaking techniques, at the expense of proper narrative engagement. Some of the most famous filmmakers have a signature of some kind that denotes their particular style and artistic preferences. For example, Spike Lee has his signature dolly shot, where a character appears to be moving forward in the frame despite them not actually moving at all. Another example is Alfred Hitchcock’s cameos in his movies. These signatures are something to look forward to when watching a film from any given director, and they can be fun to see how they will use it in the story they are telling, because any filmmaker worth their salt knows if a technique is used too often and unjustified, it can loose its intended impact. 

Which is exactly what happens in nearly all of Zack Snyder’s films! 

Snyder’s signatures include high contrast and undersaturated color pallets regardless of the content, extreme emphasis on exaggerated male physiques (along with a few phallic symbols here and there), and the use of slow motion that is so excessive, that if you were to play a drinking game wherein you take a shot every time he uses it, you would end up at the Hospital within the hour! 

These stylistic choices are fine in and of themselves; there is no real rule that dictates when and how they may be used. However, there is an unwritten rule in filmmaking that says signature techniques, regardless of ones passion for them, are best utilized in small doses and when they may provide the best intended impact. Zack Snyder does not appear to have learned that lesson, and insists upon implementing all of his preferences and style choices as often as humanly possible, regardless of how they may serve the narrative nor not. 

Perhaps one of the few instances that Zack Snyder’s style was best utilized, was in his 2009 adaptation of the classic Alan Moore graphic novel, Watchmen. Setting aside how the film mostly worked because Zack Snyder didn’t understand that the book was a satire (allegedly), his prioritization of extreme visual style and personal favorite techniques were a perfect fit for the adaptation. Zack Snyder bent over backwards to recreate the book on screen as much as humanly possible, going so far as to use the original book as storyboards. His joy for slow motion helped emphasize the comic book origin of the images; allowing him to successfully recreate the books visuals. Even though the film flopped at the box office and received less-than-favorable reviews, it is widely regarded as the best possible adaptation of the graphic novel anyone could have asked for, even with all the minor changes and omissions made by the screenwriters. 

Zack Snyder is so overtly obsessed with his visual voice that he seems to ignore, or even forget, how they may best serve the narrative, which must always be a filmmakers priority. While I do not deny Snyder’s enthusiasm and genuine talent in some areas, I have yet to see what he can do when he seriously takes the time to examine the narrative he is working with, rather than slap his signatures all over everything and call it a day. He seems to retain a mere surface-level understanding of the scripts he makes and doesn’t seem willing nor capable of expanding his horizons. Which, incidentally, leads me to…

Lesson 3:

Push Yourself

As I mentioned before, Zack Snyder apparently didn’t realize the Watchman was a satire when he made the film, and that’s likely because he’s one of those people who grew up in what is commonly known as the dark ages of comics, and became one of those comic fans who never grew past their surface-level appreciation for the art form. 

Allow me to elaborate. 

The 1980s was a fantastic age for comic books, both for creators and readers. In addition to Alan Moore’s Watchmen, he also penned other classics like V for Vendetta and a couple memorable runs of Swamp Thing. At the same time, we also had superhero comics from D.C. and Marvel taking risks with their signature characters aiming to push the readership of comics, such as Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns and Chris Claremont’s run with the X-Men; trying to break out of the perception of being regarded as merely children’s entertainment. This lead to superhero stories that tackled dark and mature themes like societal corruption, trauma, and the many morally grey areas of being a hero. Most or these stories were tackled by talented and intelligent writers who knew how to craft a narrative, combined with memorable art, to create something more unexpected and nuanced than anyone could have imagined. It was the beginning of a new age. 

And then, in the 1990s, it got completely overshadowed and nearly destroyed by fans who lacked any of the proper knowledge and talent to understand, let alone recreate, any of the nuances presented in these classic comics. One of these fans would go on to start his own comic book company and regularly churn out meaningless arrogant slop pretending to be cool. I am, of course, referring to none other than the undeserving king of 90s comics, Rob Liefeld. 

For those of you who may not know or would appreciate a refresher, Rob Liefeld was a comic book “writer” and “artist” in the 90s, who founded Image Comics and “created” many comic book characters (most of which were merely ripoffs of Marvel’s Wolverine) and storylines that would go on to reshape the comics world, for better and for worse. Like many comic fans, he grew up reading the aforementioned classics that attempted to push the boundaries of comic book storytelling. The only problem is he, and many other readers, didn’t understand that. 

Rather than take in the intelligent and mature nuances of all those stories, Liefeld, and by extension most comic readers of the time, saw the darker and seemingly bad-ass aesthetics and attitudes of the characters, and prioritized that over everything else. They thought making characters who were gritty, angry, cold, and as excessively macho as possible was all that was needed to create nuance. In short, Liefeld never grew passed his surface-level understanding of the characters and stories that inspired him in the first place, and spend most of his career rinsing and repeating his “style” with no variation or greater understanding. 

Zack Snyder is very similar to Rob Liefeld, in that the vast majority of his works showcases his refusal to evolve past the initial impressions of his early inspirations, and, for want of a better phrase, grow up! Even the few films he made that attempted to go deeper into mature and nuanced themes, such as Sucker Punch and Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, can’t surpass Snyder’s perpetual adolescence. His works are equal to that of those fantasy-themed air brush paintings seen on many a camper van: visually stunning; ultimately meaningless. 

Conclusion: 

Zack Snyder is what happens when a three-note talent is given too much leeway and no serious challenge (either from himself or others) to evolve. While his works are fantastical and visually striking in their own unique ways, they cannot escape the sad fact that they are, ultimately, hollow efforts attempting and failing to be compelling stories. I may enjoy and appreciate Watchmen, and I don’t deny that his four hour epic Justice League was vastly superior to the theatrical version, but I do not see myself becoming a regular fan of his work. I can only enjoy watching a three-note artist hit those same three notes so well for so long before I never want to hear them ever again! 

Class dismissed. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Crime 101 - Modern Classic

 

Streaming on Amazon Prime

When you think of classic crime stories in cinema, what films come to mind? Some think of John Huston’s The Maltese Falcon from 1941, William Friedkin’s The French Connection from 1971, and Michael Mann’s Heat from 1995; all of which are staples of the film noir and crime story genre. While many other films have tried to emulate or even recreate those classics, most of them couldn’t quite make the cut, either because they forgot to include some kind of likable and tangible quality to some of the criminal characters, or they hire a screenwriter who mistakes dropping a ton of “F” bombs for mature authenticity (the latter of which is featured in today’s subject, but better utilized). 

Bart Layton’s Crime 101 from 2026 succeeds in both taking notes from its classic contemporaries, while maintaining its own individuality. A few scenes may drag on a bit too long here and there, but never to the point of feeling monotonous. It is just enough of a slow burn to feel appropriately moody without feeling pretentious. Plus, it gets bonus points for its subtle commentary on the lack of proper mental health care in this country (more on that in a minute). 

Based on the novella by Don Winslow, the story follows an elite thief named Davis (Chris Hemsworth), who is suddenly dealing with a heist that didn’t go as smoothly as he planned. While he takes some time off to clear his head, Davis starts up an unexpected relationship with a bright girl named Maya (Monica Barbaro), and he seems to want to leave his present life to start a new one with her. All the while dealing with a Detective Lou (Mark Ruffalo) on his case, scouting the potential usefulness of an disgruntled insurance agent named Sharon (Halle Berry), and evading the prying eyes of a loose canon rival named Ormon (Barry Keoghan). All these characters eventually find themselves intertwined in the most unexpected turn of events. 

This film is a fine depiction of a morally ambiguous story that succeeds in reminding audiences the fine line between right and wrong, without preaching or insisting upon any particular ideology; Crime 101 fully understands what makes its genre so intriguing, and present said elements in a fresh yet familiar manner. Even though some aspects of the film have been done before in other movies, especially the ones mentioned earlier, nothing ever feels ripped off or carbon copied. You see the inspiration, but the film still stands on its own. 

The cast is especially fun to watch. Chris Hemsworth gets the opportunity to explore his range as an actor, which Hollywood hasn’t given him much opportunity to do. He demonstrates his ability to play quietly and subtly incredibly well, and does a remarkable job at conveying the characters desire to connect with people, despite lacking an understanding of how such connections can work, likely due to an undiagnosed mental and emotional difference of some kind; something that could have been noticed and better understood in different circumstances, which the film does a remarkable job at highlighting without hitting you over the head. 

The MVP award goes to Halle Berry for reminding us all how much of a powerhouse she still is. She gets the most amount of performance range in the film and she uses every second of her screen time to its fullest potential. Like many great performers, Halle Berry has had a few rough patches (*cough* Catwoman *cough*), but she seems to know how to bounce back and remind us why we enjoy her talent. 

Crime 101 may not be the most “original” of stories, but it is different and well executed enough to earn its place amongst the classics. Don’t let its slow burn pace turn you away; it knows what it’s doing at all times and it likely won’t disappoint. 

Give it a shot. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

The Magic is Gone - My Feelings on the Upcoming Harry Potter Series on HBO Max

 

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is one of those things from my youth that I never gravitated toward but greatly appreciated for many reasons, not the least of which was getting kids excited about reading and literacy. I myself have read the first two books and seen all the movies (the third one is still the best). But then the franchise went down hill hard with their prequel and spin-off movies that devolved into uninteresting and pretentious concepts about family lines, civil wars, and performance art masquerading as representation. Not to mention the inhumane and horrific personification of hate and bigotry that is J.K. Rowling. I suppose it would be apt to say that we were into Harry Potter back when it was actually fun; before we learned how much of a nazi the original author is. 

Still, this is one of the many reasons I have always advocated for the separation of art from the artist; works of art in all forms must be judged on their own merits, not the merits of their creators or lack thereof. Whatever else can be said about the author, there is no denying that her creation spawned a positive influence on people, especially younger people, that exploded with wonder and a kind of magic all on its own. 

Having said that, what the hell is Warner Bros. doing wasting everyones time with a Harry Potter reboot series? 

Setting aside the obvious desire to cash in on what is now a nostalgic property (the first book in the series was published in 1997), what about the Harry Potter series is there to explore that hasn’t already been played with? Sure, there may be a few nuances and minor details that were initially left out of the original movies, and older fans of the series might be excited at the prospect of a new iteration of their childhood treasures, but aside from all that, what value is there in spending the time, energy, and money to retread old grounds that have already been so thoroughly explored? The easy answer is nostalgic cash grab, of course, but I’m more interested in the answer besides the obvious; and the best I can come up with is…laziness! 

Setting aside all of the expected and understandable talking points (the controversy around the original author, the original movie series already covering this storyline, the wasted time and money, etc.), there is a much more significant and easy to address issue at play with this upcoming retread of familiar ground; symptomatic of the inevitable downfall of the Hollywood system as we once knew it, and the unavoidable reality regarding mainstream entertainment we all must come to terms with: they don’t care! 

Corporate “entertainment” is not about telling compelling stories, creating enriching escapism experiences, or bringing meaningful and fantastical concepts to life for our enjoyment; they are about selling products for mass consumption to maximize profit, while putting in the least amount of effort required for artistic creation. This isn’t an effort to enhance an older property, provide an opportunity for newer fans of a series, or even a chance at doing justice by past creators: this is filmmaking by accountants in its most egregious and aggressive form! 

I understand how I may come across as an angry bitter old man yelling at the clouds, a frustrated artist complaining about the imbalances and injustices of the system, or as a whiny petulant child throwing a tantrum like our Toddler-In-Chief does on a regular basis. And while there may be some truth to at least one of those things, the fact is that these massive conglomerates have the power and the money to do literally anything else with their time and resources. Warner Bros. and HBO Max could have put the energy, time, and money that they are wasting with this shiny new Harry Potter series, which I guarantee no one will watch, on at least five original screenplays sitting on the sidelines, waiting for their opportunity to become the next big property to sweep the world. But alas, if anything you create isn’t directly linked to a “pre-existing property,” it might as well be invisible! 

Modern mainstream “entertainment” isn’t here to enrich your lives; they want your money and they don’t care how much it hurts to yank it away from you! This is a desperate attempt by Warner Bros. to salvage themselves from too many corporate buyouts, misguided decisions, and incompetent leadership, and they are under the delusion that we, the audience, are too stupid to recognize that, and will blindly flock to whatever nostalgic property they throw at us. 

If you have any desire for better creations than this, do yourself and your loved ones a favor and refuse to watch this series; cancel your HBO Max subscription (if only temporarily) if you have to! Because Hollywood, and all of its affiliates, will NEVER change unless we make our voices heard with our wallets! They don’t listen to petitions, protests, or even well-written letters; they only listen to money! If you seriously want something better, put your money, attention, and effort toward finding and funding the ones who are actually trying! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I amTheNorm; thank you all for reading.