"Twilight" has a foundation, but is ultimately a stilted affair (2.75/5)

With the pop culture surge of "Twilight" (and vampires in general) hitting an all time high, I figured I would give the film a chance and see what was driving girls across the world to swoon everytime they saw a pasty blood sucker. What I found was a film that seemed like it was lost in adaptation. More specifically, emphasis was placed upon sexual tension instead of actually developing a story and characters that breathe within that story. Without a doubt, there is sexual tension. If there is one thing that Catherine Hardwicke does right, it is capturing the heightening sexual tension between 'Bella' and 'Edward.' Yet, what Hardwicke and her screenwriter fail at doing is establishing this sexual tension and intrigue from a base level. It seems at one moment 'Bella' hates 'Edward' yet the next time they meet, suddenly they're open with each other and ready to ravage one another. I know some will shoot back with the "but it was love at first sight!" or "thats how people meet!" No. Certainly there can be sexual tension between two strangers, even after a casual conversation, but to believe these two had this deep and rich connection after talking for 10 minutes (even though both had negative connotations of one another before hand) is about as ridiculous as believing a mini van can go from 0 mph to 70 mph in 3 seconds. There has to be a build up for such an attraction and connection to be believed, regardless of what kind of characters the story revolves around.

Another struggle I had with this film revolves around the third act which depicts a "confrontation" between Edward (and his family) and a trio of human hunting vampires. This act is just so underwritten and horribly underdeveloped that it almost becomes laughable. This is the part where I imagine adaptation from book to film hit a wall. Inexplicably and unnecessarily, three vampires (one of which has an unexplained need for Bella's blood) begin a standoff with Edward that entails the final 20 minutes of the film. This part is supposed to be climatic while showing the devotion Edward has for Bella, but ultimately it just feels like tacked on melodrama. It is not set up well and this big emotional pay off that we are supposed to get is uninspiring at best. It's almost as if Hardwicke and company noticed that anything past two hours would make their target demographic start to wain, so they cut things short. Although shorter may be more ideal for the demographic, a longer version could have definitely helped things a bit in the third act.

This ultimately leads me to my biggest question: Is Catherine Hardwicke the right director for this adaptation? From what I have seen in this film, no. She certainly was able to develop some chemistry between her two leads, but she failed to develop a cast that could act in general. This was most apparent in the acting of Kristen Stewart who seems to think the look of desire and intrigue seemingly meant biting her lower lip. Yet, Hardwicke's ability (or lack thereof) to develop acting was not the only thing that bugged me about the film. Instead, I must also account for her choice of shots and camera movements which I would deem spastic at best. In one shot she has a swooping camera and in another she has a camera rotating 360 degrees around our leads and all for no other reason then Hardwicke showing she has no idea as to what she's doing. Of course this is not to say everything she does is bad, but there are moments that detract from the story, rather than enhance it.

And thats pretty much the downfall of "Twilight", the story, direction, and characters are merely outlines that are, for whatever reason, left to be filled in by the viewer. Fans of the book may end up loving this, but then again you have seemingly had the story properly set up for you and can fill in those outlines. While the non-fans are left with nothing to become invested in.

"The Virgin Spring" is a profound piece of poetic violence (5/5)

As my love for film has exponentially grown day by day, I have been compelled to open my mind to new film going experiences. Although this may seem elitist, but I honestly believe I am willing to watch any film. Whether its an inconsequential comedy or foreign arthouse flick, I have the determination to see it. Had it not been for such an inclination to see numerous films, I would have never laid my eyes upon Ingmar Bergman's "The Virgin Spring."

Leading up to my viewing of "The Virgin Spring", I was interested as to what the film was about. Considered by many to be one of Bergman's best films, much of what I read about "The Virgin Spring" revolved around one word: uncomfortable. Well, after viewing the film there was a sense of unease that rested in my mind. Not only for what I saw, but also in deciphering what Bergman was trying to say. The film itself takes place in Sweden, during medieval times. A young girl (Karin), a budding, but naieve teenager is sent by her parents to deliver a set of candles to their church. On her way to the church, the young girl is viciously raped and attacked by three brothers (although only two are the perpetrators) pretending to be goat herders. As simple fate would have it, the three brothers end up "shacking up" that night at Karin's home, which eventually leads to a vengeful decision by Karin's father, Tore (played by Max Van Sydow). If you think this premise sounds familiar, it is because this is the film that Wes Craven's "Last House on the Left" is based on, except Craven's adaptation is devoid of any moral uncertainty.

Now, the rape and murder scene is extremely tough to watch. Yet, where some films, like Craven's earlier works, depict rape and murder in an over the top, exploitive way, Bergman treats the unthinkable with sensitivity and intelligence. He understands the notion of such scenes, and they are not there for the sake of gratuity, but to later fuel the questions he bestows upon the viewer. Even though the rape and murder scene is the toughest to watch, Bergman does not let the viewer off so easily throughout. Instead, Bergman does something quite amazing: he builds tension and dread through the quietness of the world. Many scenes of the film are filled with natural noises. A gust of wind here, the scream of a crow there, and the noise bellowing from the crickets at night. It seems like all is calm and in order, but there is a dread that hangs over our characters almost as if they're thinking "things are too quiet." This sense of dread is what drives what is a rather slow film.

Accompanying a sense of dread is the cinematography by Sven Nykvist, who beautifully shoots the Swedish country side and delivers some truly gut wrenching shots. Such a shot is of Karin lying dead on a hillside while it begins to snow. The camera focuses on her as she lies there lifeless and peering through branches back at us, as snowflakes slowly fall upon her. This particular scene was so achingly beautiful and tragic that I did not know if I should cry out in the name of beauty or vomit due to injustice of the crime that took place. I think it was imperative for Nykvist to deliver such a scene in order to capture the essence of Bergman's film: life can be such a beautiful tragedy.

Now, I notice that most of this review is focusing on how uncomfortable this film will make the viewer, but for as much as this film challenges a viewer's gut, it challenges the mind just as much. I could certainly delve into the specifics of the questions one must ask themselve upon viewing the film, but I'll only scratch the surface. To no surprise, with most of Bergman's films dripping with religious themes, "The Virgin Spring" is an examination on morality and religious beliefs. More specifically, it plays out the confusion and frustration some of us may have with "God." In the case of "The Virgin Spring", the confusion rests upon Tore's shoulders as his daugther was brutally stripped of her innocence as God sat and seemingly (in Tore's words) 'watched.' This is more confusing to Tore considering his daughter was not only a virgin, but a woman of God who was devout. I imagine this story was a representation of the confusion Bergman often had with "God", and I imagine we've all been in that spot. How could "God" create such beautiful moments in our lives and yet, place us in the way of harm and tragedy?

Obviously, Bergman will never have an answer nor will we. Yet, its an interesting question that Bergman places before our feet. Why worship someone if their graces are not reciprocal?

"District 9" (4.5/5)

When I was little kid, I remember I loved to play with Ninja Turtle action figures. They were simple in design. Their arms and legs moved 360 degrees and could be contorted in numerous ways. Yet I remember at some point the action figures changed and soon the movements of the legs were standard, and now the figures were accompanied with extra pieces like faux clothing and weaponry. Certainly with such additions the prices of the toys increased, but bigger is always better, right? Not necessarily. I always found myself falling back on my older toys not only because of sentimental value, but because they were simple. With so many weapons and additions, toys just seemed way too convoluted then they needed to be. This basic notion is how I feel about some science fiction or "summer tent pole" films. They have this notion to think bigger is always better. Lets get bigger effects, bigger explosions, and bigger personalities. Certainly the masses will love it! Well, the masses will love it, but as time goes on, the film itself will always get passed over for that one film that chooses simplicity, depth and story, over giving the eyes an orgasm.

Such an example would be "Transformers 2;" a film that decided to up the ante in effects and leave the plot at home. Certainly, there is a place for this film in the world of movies, but ultimately it will get passed up for better films. Such a film is "District 9" which has so much going for it. Its an enthralling, thought provoking, funny, and ultimately poignant piece of work that will last through the years because of its ability to blend story and special effects. The basic plot revolves around a spaceship unexpectingly appearing over South Africa in the 1980's. Over the years, the aliens on board were taken down and placed in an area named 'District 9', which resembles the slums seen in "Slumdog Millionaire" or "City of God." Due to hostility and forms of racism and xenophobism, the aliens and 'District 9' were held away from the good natured folks of South Africa.

Fast-forward to present day, where an organization MIL (Multi-National United) is asked to forcibly remove (or better yet, evict) the alien inhabitants of 'District 9' and to no surprise move them to another area aptly named 'District 10.' The eviction is lead by Wikus van der Merwe ( who is wonderfully played by first time actor Sharlto Copley) and through the eviction plan, he comes in contact with a mysterious alien chemical. I'll stop the spoilers there because things happen that are much more impactful if not known in advance. Needless to say, writer/director Neil Blomkamp covers a lot of themes and issues while still delivering a satisfying sci-fi actioner. Of course there are explosions and buckets of alien blood, but Blomkamp delivers an examination of not only race relations in the Apartheid based South Africa, but also what could be related to the assimilation the United States viciously placed upon Native Americans. In many respects, I'm willing to say this is "Do the Right Thing" draped in a science fiction cloak. Each scene is dripping with subtext in which one can't help but draw comparisons to the world we all currently inhabit. This is what makes the story so compelling: it details the human conflicts we have seen over the years, and we can't help but relate to these issues when presented to us on screen.

Aside from the simplistic, yet deep storytelling, Blomkamp and his screenplay do something quite remarkable: he made me actually care about the aliens, which by all intensive purposes are 100% CGI. Unlike films like "Transformers" or "The Phantom Menace", where the CGI characters are colorful and one note, Blomkamp creates his alien creatures with troubles that rival their human counterparts. They all have needs, desires, and fears that drive them to behave in certain ways. Simply put, Blomkamp respects his CGI characters. Anytime a filmmaker can make you cry or celebrate in the presence of a CGI character, then he has fulfilled his duty as not only a director, but a screenwriter and this occurs quite a bit in "District 9."

And this is the key of "District 9", it doesn't overwhelm you with the CGI or blood or action. Instead its far more focused on using the aformentioned attributes to supplement the story. Better yet, it pushes the viewer to examine the world on screen, and ultimately the one they inhabit. Without a doubt "District 9" could've been a film that went from action scene to action scene, but that would've been the easy way out. Anyone can piece together cool scenes, but only a few people can capture a scene (or a film on a whole) that reaches the depth of your heart and the recesses of your mind. And to think, it took a simple story about aliens and humans to do so.

"The Bicycle Thief" is a landmark film. (5/5)

It takes a lot for me to fall in love with a film that hails from the 1940's and 50's. Its not really because they're not quality films, but because of the "gee-whiz" acting that can plague many of the films that flooded Hollywood at the time. This would explain why I've been recently falling in love with a lot of foreign films that came out in the 40's and 50's. Not only are the stories more provocative, but the acting is richer and far more real then most of what Hollywood was putting out during the same period. This can be attributed to some of the ad-hoc filming seen in earlier films which adds a sense of realism and unpredictability to the film, but also the casting of real people who bring an honest performance to the screen. The aforementioned attributes are what make Vittorio de Sica's "Ladri Di Biciclette" (aka "The Bicycle Thief") an honest and stirring masterpiece.

The film opens in a post World War II Italian city, as we follow Antonio Ricci, a poor man looking for a job in a country crippled by a depression. The situation is further harrowing considering Antonio has a wife and son to care for. Fortunately though, in opening frames Antonio receives a job hanging up posters. The hitch is that he needs a bicycle in order to do and keep his job. With some help from his wife and selling their bed sheets, Antonio is able to purchase a bike, so he can work and provide for his family. So, initially the film starts rather light and everything seems to be going Antonio's way. But, on his first day of work his bicycle gets stolen and soon whatever momentum he had is taken away. The premise itself is so simple, yet so affective. Throughout the film Antonio and his son (played wonderfully by Enzo Staiola) search throughout their Italian city, just hoping to find the bike and the thief. With such a simple premise, de Sica slowly builds an anxiety as the film wears on, that soon becomes a burden on not only the character of Antonio, but also the viewer themselves. With each missed opportunity and each passing moment, we know that if the bike is not found, a family will surely break and suffer.

As mentioned before, di Sica sets up this looming sense of doom masterfully. When Antonio and his son are so close, he simply pushes them away farther and farther as the film moves along. This becomes even more apparent in one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film where Antonio and his son decide to spend their last dollars on a "final meal" of sorts at a high end restaurant. I don't want to divulge too much information on this scene, because it is extremely effective, but it essentially details the desperation and seperation between the "haves" and "have nots." This idea of desperation and seperation are themes that play a pivotal role throughout the film and in an ending that will surely crush you. Where, with the day waning and Antonio's desperation running high, issues of morality come into play and its no longer about finding a bike or justice. Instead it questions what would we do to ensure our family even a morsel of food? Better yet, what would we become to ensure it?

These questions coupled with terrific performances and a sweet score, take what is a simple, linear premise, and stretch it into a landmark film not only for Italian cinema, but for the world.