6/21/15: Know When To Say When

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Anthony Hopkins, based on a book, based on a true story, British-Dutch films, cinema, Cor van Hout, crime thriller, Daniel Alfredson, David Dencik, drama, film reviews, films, foreign films, Fredrik Bäckar, Håkan Karlsson, Heineken, Heineken beer, held for ransom, Jemima West, Jim Sturgess, Kat Lindsay, kidnapping, Kidnapping Mr. Heineken, large ransoms, Lucas Vidal, Mark van Eeuwen, Movies, Peter R. de Vries, Ryan Kwanten, Sam Worthington, set in 1980s, set in Amsterdam, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, The Girl Who Played With Fire, Thomas Cocquerel, Willem Holleeder, William Brookfield

On paper, Kidnapping Mr. Heineken (2015) must have seemed like a no-brainer: throw Sam Worthington, Jim Sturgess and some fellow named Sir Anthony Hopkins into a film about the real-life kidnapping of the titular beer baron and get the guy who directed the original versions of The Girl Who Played With Fire (2009) and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (2009) to helm it. Stir, cook at 350 and voila: instant thriller goodness! The resulting film, however, ends up being much less than the sum of its parts: while Kidnapping Mr. Heineken sports a fairly relentless pace, it’s also overly familiar, a little nonsensical and more than a little slight. While the principals all turn in sturdy performances, it’s unlikely that you’ll remember much of it after the credits roll.

Taking place in Amsterdam, in the early ’80s, we’re immediately introduced to our intrepid gang of wannabe kidnappers: Cor van Hout (Jim Sturgess), his best friend, Willem Holleeder (Sam Worthington), “Cat” Boellard (Ryan Kwanten), “Spikes” Meijer (Mark van Eeuwen) and “Brakes” Erkamps (Thomas Cocquerel). When we first meet them, the group is trying to secure a renovation loan for an apartment building that they collectively own, a building which has now been overrun by “squatter punks.” When the loan officer indicates that the building will need to be “cleaned out” before any money can be disbursed, the gang springs into action and goes to kick some punk ass. The point is clear: this is a bunch of dudes who takes matters into their own hands.

On the home-front, Cor and his girlfriend, Sonja (Jemima West), are expecting a baby, which has put quite the financial strain on them. Cor wants to provide for Sonja (who also happens to be Willem’s sister) but there aren’t a lot of options out there for someone who’s done time in the big house. The group comes up with a simple, if outrageous, solution: they decide to kidnap Alfred “Freddy” Heineken (Anthony Hopkins) and hold him for the largest ransom in history…$35 million.

In order to finance their scheme, the gang robs a bank in a daring, daytime heist and uses the money to buy weapons, getaway vehicles and a soundproof, hidden room to hide their abductee. After planning the crime extensively, the group executes their mission without a hitch, grabbing Heineken and his driver (David Dencik) and spiriting them away to their hiding place. Once they actually have their quarry, however, everything begins to unravel: the group begins to fall out among each other, Willem becomes increasingly violent and irrational and Heineken ends up being a canny, sly bastard who pours pretty poison in the ear of anyone he comes in contact with. As the authorities begin to close in, will Cor and the others be able to reap their “rewards” or will grabbing Heineken prove to be the stupidest (and last) thing any of them will ever do?

Technically, all of the moving parts in Kidnapping Mr. Heineken do what they’re supposed to do: the cinematography is crisp and polished (Bäckar was also a cameraman on the American remake of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2011)), all of the action scenes have a relentless pace (in particular, the bank heist is a truly impressive, exhilarating setpiece) and the acting is, for the most part, as sturdy as a rock. While this won’t go down as anyone’s shining moment (Hopkins, in particular, is rather stiff), it all works just fine in service of the actual film. As a director, Daniel Alfredson handles the action setpieces just fine, even if some of the more dramatic elements feel a little short-sheeted.

The big problem, as it turns out, is that Alfredson’s film just doesn’t do enough to distinguish itself from any number of similar movies: in certain ways, this comes across as a “paint-by-numbers” action film, a generic template where only the names and faces have been changed. None of the characters are really fleshed-out in any meaningful way (there’s some mention made of one of the kidnappers’ families being intrinsically tied to Heineken but that particular plot point leads nowhere), which means that we never get fully invested in them. Sturgess plays Cor like any number of “nice guy forced to do bad things” roles, while Worthington brings nothing new, whatsoever, to his portrayal of the loose cannon. Sonja is just the put-upon significant other, Heineken is just the petulant rich guy. None of the characters ever breaks out of their generic “types,” leaving us with a drama that feels no weightier than the average teen slasher flick.

Kidnapping Mr. Heineken is also one of those crime thriller/heist films where the characters act in inexplicable ways as a means of advancing the plot. They take their masks off at inopportune times, leave witnesses behind, and, in general, seem to do everything they can to get caught. Closing text informs us that no one really knows why the group originally got caught: if the real-life criminals were this sloppy and stupid, I’m pretty sure we don’t need three guesses.

In fact, one of the most interesting aspects of Kidnapping Mr. Heineken isn’t what happens on-screen but, apparently, what happened to the real-life participants after the film ended. As that helpful text informs us, Cor and Willem went on to become criminal godfathers in the Netherlands, after serving their 11-year prison sentences. Cor would go on to be assassinated, with scuttlebutt pointing the finger at his own best friend, Willem. Perhaps it’s only me but that actually sounds like a much more interesting story than the by-the-book heist film that we actually get: it’s rather telling that the film never really sparked my interest until it was actually over.

Ultimately, Kidnapping Mr. Heineken isn’t a terrible film, although it is a terribly familiar one. With its slight characterizations, lapses in logic and adherence to multiplex action movie conventions, Alfredson’s film might play well in the background but it’s unlikely to earn your full, undivided attention. In other words, this beer ain’t bad but it is pretty flat.

12/9/14: Truth in Advertising

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Army of Darkness, Brett Gipson, Brian Posehn, Chillerama, cinema, co-writers, Danny Pudi, demons, Dungeons & Dragons, evil books, fantasy vs reality, film reviews, films, horror-comedies, horror-fantasy, Jimmi Simpson, Joe Lynch, Kevin Dreyfuss, Knights of Badassdom, LARPers, live-action role playing, long-delayed films, male friendships, Margarita Levieva, Matt Wall, Movies, Peter Dinklage, practical effects, role-playing games, Ryan Kwanten, Sam Raimi, special-effects extravaganza, Steve Zahn, succubus, Summer Glau, summoning demons

Ever since audiences were greeted with the blatant lies that were Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984) and Leonard Part 6 (1987), we can all be forgiven if we take movie titles with a grain of salt. After all, filmmakers will try literally anything to get butts into seats: hell, Chariots of Fire (1981) didn’t feature one flaming horse-drawn vehicle, let alone multiple ones! The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965)? Sound like a lot of bragging to me. Troll 2 (1990)? Trust me: the connection to the original extravaganza is, shall we say, tenuous at best. By this point, our eyes should be much more open: fool me twice and all that jazz.

For this very reason, Joe Lynch’s Knights of Badassdom (2013) should send up immediate signal flares: after all, the guy’s got the temerity to call his OWN characters “badass”…shouldn’t that be our job? I don’t know about you but I rather resent being force-fed someone else’s definition of “badass.” You see, I have pretty damn high standards as far as “badassdom” goes, standards which poor Joe can’t possibly hope to match. Should I be required to lower my own standards of what does and does not constitute “badassness” simply to satisfy his own misguided vision of his own creations?

Have no fear, fellow travelers: I’m here to tell you that, for once, there’s quite a bit of truth in this here advertising. While we may quibble over the degree, it’s more than fair to say that Lynch’s Knights of Badassdom is, indeed, quite badass. In some ways, he’s turned in the Army of Darkness (1992) sequel that folks have been clamoring about for the past couple decades: merging ridiculously over-the-top fantasy elements, deliciously snarky dialogue and some genuinely surprising gore effects, Knights of Badassdom is a real treat for those genre fans who like their fare loud, goofy and…well…badass.

After a nifty opening sequence that establishes a pretty cool mythos for a cursed medieval hymnal, we’re jumped into what appears to be a Satanic ceremony before finding out the fell truth: these folks be not of the olden times but, rather, are slightly more modern creations: LARPers. For those not in the know, LARPers (Live-action Role Players) are folks who take a look at tabletop gaming like Dungeons & Dragons and think, “This would be so much cooler if it were real.” To that end, LARPers dress in costume and assume the role of various characters (similar to role-playing games) in order to conduct large-scale “battles” and campaigns during the weekend: think of it as Lord of the Rings fans conducting Civil War reenactments and you’re in the right ballpark. While I’ve never actually LARPed, I’ve known a fair amount of folks who have and I can steadfastly vouch for the fact that the pastime is more than ripe for a little gentle satirization. Displaying not only a deft touch with skewering fantasy and LARP clichés but also a genuine fondness for his characters, Lynch turns what could have been a case of “Look at those dumb nerds” into something more traditionally heroic.

In short order, we’re introduced to our three main characters. The defacto protagonist, Joe (Ryan Kwanten), works in a garage, fronts a doom-metal band and has just written a rather intense “love song” for his girlfriend, Beth (Margarita Levieva), who promptly dumps him for being too “aimless.” Joe best friend, Eric (Steve Zahn), is a LARP obsessed millionaire who lives in a fake castle with the third member of their group, Hung (Peter Dinklage), another philosophy-spouting, perma-stoned LARPer.

Under the guise of helping Joe get over his fresh breakup, Eric and Hung get the poor fellow so drunk and high that he passes out, only to wake up somewhere in the woods, in full battle regalia: that’s right, in the spirit of best friends everywhere, Eric and Hung just shanghaied their friend and intend to force him to participate in their hobby as a way of taking his mind off his problems. Never mind the fact that Joe not only doesn’t participate in LARPing but actively mocks it and you have a sure-fire recipe for success, right?

Once there, we meet more of the rogues’ gallery including Ronnie (Jimmie Simpson), the batshit game master; Gwen (Summer Glau), the gorgeous warrior who kicks ass and takes names, her borderline autistic cousin Gunther (Brett Gipson), who’s so far into the game that he doesn’t seem to realize they’re actually playing a game and Lando (Community’s Danny Pudi, in a great role). If you guessed that Joe would end up falling for Gwen, you’ve either seen your fair share of these kinds of films or are mildly psychic. If you further guessed that Ronnie would be holding a grudge against Joe for some long-past slight (in this, giving his character “magic syphilis” during a heated Dungeons & Dragons session) and plans to get his revenge during the game, you’re really starting to scare me, man!

In order to appease the tyrannical Ronnie, Eric, Joe and Hung must perform a “resurrection” ceremony for Joe’s character, a ceremony which Eric opts to undertake using a non-regulation spellbook that he managed to get his hands on. As luck would have it, the spellbook is actually the very same cursed text from the opening (fancy that!) and Eric’s innocent “mumbo-jumbo” actually has a pretty dire outcome: he inadvertently calls forth a demonic succubus, a creature which assumes the face of Joe’s ex- as some sort of cruel cosmic joke. At first, no one is the wiser, as the succubus quickly and quietly works her way through the LARPers, ripping off a jaw here, yanking out a heart there. When tragedy strikes close to home and the truth of the situation is revealed, however, our intrepid crew have no choice but to spring into action and save their fellow role-players (and the world, presumably). As they’ll all come to find out, however, it’s one thing to wear armor and swing a plastic sword on the weekends but a whole other ball of wax to actually square off against ancient, all-powerful evil. Lucky for them, Eric always has a few real swords hanging around and it looks like it’s finally time for him to get…medieval.

Full disclosure: I really dug this film and, in time, might even come to love it. There’s such a gonzo, hyper sense of energy and fun to the proceedings that it’s impossible not to become sucked up in the silly spectacle of it all. Similar to Sam Raimi’s classic Evil Dead films, Lynch manages to come up with a perfect mixture of fantasy, humor and horror, with no one element really dominating the others, although the overall tone is almost always light and goofy. That being said, there are some genuinely strong horror moments here and some extremely well-done practical effects (the finale involving the monstrous demon and a mechanical dragon is a real showstopper) that definitely reminded me of the aforementioned Army of Darkness, right down to the mysteriously alive, sinister book at the heart of everything.

Perhaps the most critical element in a film like this (aside from a good script) is the cast and Knights of Badassdom manages to knock this one out of the park. While Zahn and Dinklage will probably be the most well-known names here, they’re ably matched by the rest of the cast. Kwanten is a great reluctant hero and his transition into armored asskicker by the film’s final reel is unbelievably satisfying. Glau, perhaps best known as River in Joss Whedon’s cult-classic Firefly series, makes the most out of a role that could’ve been more about the “male gaze” than character development: she never seems overly sexualized, however, and is never presented as a shrinking violet or “damsel in distress,” which is incredibly refreshing. Serving as glowering, silent counterpart to Glau’s sarcastic Gwen, Brett Gipson is pretty great as Gunther, who may or may not actually be a barbarian: he gets so many fist-raising moments in the film’s final 30 minutes that he nearly threatens to steal the show from the main characters.

Without a doubt, however, special recognition must be given to the amazing Jimmi Simpson, who makes Ronnie such a completely unforgettable character. Simpson, a remarkably gifted comic actor, has such a perfect sense of timing and delivery that virtually everything he says managed to provoke a laugh from me. Ronnie is the kind of character who could easily have become insufferable: he’s a complete jackass, an ineffectual moron who’s so myopic as to make Michael Scott seem like a major tactician. Despite this, however, Simpson is just so damn good that I found myself rooting for him despite of his caustic personality. As someone who’s head-over-heels for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I’ve always felt that Simpson’s portrayal of the astoundingly weird Liam McPoyle must stand as one of the best comic creations of the past 40 years: his performance as Ronnie isn’t quite as legendary but it’s not bringing up the rear by much, either.

In any other situation, a film like Knights of Badassdom would have me worshipping at the feet of the filmmakers but this is, unfortunately, the one area where I feel a little qualified in my support. While Knights of Badassdom is only Lynch’s second film, it was technically his debut: started in 2010 and only completely wrapped-up last year, KOB would definitely seem to indicate even greater things on the horizon. The immediate follow-up, however, Chillerama (2011), easily stands as one of the single worst films I’ve seen in my entire life, hands down. An anthology film, Chillerama features a collection of worthless shorts by filmmakers that should definitely know better (Adam Green, in particular): Lynch’s short, even when compared to the others, is really awful. Truth be told, if Lynch hadn’t been behind Knights of Badassdom, I would have completely written him off after seeing Chillerama (which I saw before screening Knights). As it stands, I really have no idea where he’s going from here: his next feature could either be an unmitigated classic or the equivalent of cinematic coal in the stocking…only time will tell.

At the end of the day, however, the only thing that really matters is what’s currently in front of us: Knights of Badassdom. On this regard, I was completely blown away. Basically, Lynch’s film is the epitome of crowd-pleasing. This is the kind of movie where the LARPer teams have names like “The Norse Whisperer” and “The Department of Gnomeland Security,” where the final showdown involves fighting a demon with the power of metal (the musical style, not the material) and various locations are named after icons of nerd-culture (my favorite being The Temple of Syrinx, which actually made me do a spit-take). It’s a film that starts out good and becomes gradually better until it’s final 30 minutes are just about as good as it gets, period. It’s the kind of film where characters look into the distance, utter pithy quips and remind us of why we go to the movies in the first place. Knights of Badassdom is the kind of film where you get a line like, “You speak Enochian but can’t drive a truck?!” one minute and “I’m going to stop saving your life if you don’t show me some fucking respect!” the next. It’s a complete blast and, quite possibly, some of the most fun I’ve had watching a film in ages. Joe Lynch’s Knights of Badassdom is, for lack of a better word, thoroughly “badass.” In the immortal words of that other wise-crackin’ badass: “Come get some.”

10/16/14 (Part Two): What a Blockhead

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31 Days of Halloween, Amber Valletta, Bob Gunton, Charlie Clouser, cinema, Dead Silence, Donnie Wahlberg, evil dolls, evil old lady, father-son relationships, film reviews, films, ghosts, horror film, horror movies, industrial score, Insidious, James Wan, Judith Roberts, Laura Regan, Leigh Whannell, Mary Shaw, Movies, mystery, Ravens Fair, revenge, Ryan Kwanten, Saw, sins of the fathers, small town life, The Conjuring, True Blood, ventriloquist, ventriloquist doll, ventriloquist dummies

If you think about it, there’s something inherently creepy about dolls: their tiny little hands…those dead, glassy eyes that seem to follow you around the room…the way they always seem to have just stopped moving, right before you happen to look at them…small wonder, then, that dolls, like clowns, make such great subjects for horror films. If dolls are inherently unsettling, however, ventriloquist dummies are just shy of existentially terrifying: after all, these little fellas are just like regular dolls but they can talk. You can keep your masked slashers, fanged vampires and walking dead: when hard-pressed, I’m not sure that I can think of anything more horrifying than animate, ventriloquist dolls with evil intentions.

Although it will probably never be regarded as the “definitive” ventriloquist film – that honor presumably goes to Richard Attenborough’s ultra-creepy Magic (1978) – James Wan’s Dead Silence (2007) is probably the best modern example of this (decidedly) niche sub-genre of horror film. While the film is far from perfect, there’s enough good material here to warrant attention from horror fans, although the film definitely falls short of living up to its full potential. More importantly, Dead Silence serves as a bridge between Wan’s torture-porn beginnings as the creator of the Saw franchise and his latter-day films, the widely acclaimed, mainstream-baiting Insidious and Conjuring franchises.

After kicking off with a rather bombastic, industrial-tinged credit sequence (frequent Nine Inch Nails collaborator Charlie Clouser provided the film’s score), Dead Silence introduces us to our protagonist, Jamie (Ryan Kwanten). Jamie has been sent a strange ventriloquist doll, by the name of Billy, from some anonymous benefactor. Since this is a horror film, the doll introduces itself by slaughtering Jamie’s loving wife, Lisa (Laura Regan), and setting Jamie up to take the fall for the murder. In order to clear his name, Jamie hightails it back to his boyhood home of Ravens Fair, which also happens to be the return address for the evil doll. Once there, Jamie falls into the local legend of Mary Shaw (Judith Roberts), a supposedly murdered ventriloquist who was involved in some pretty dark doings when she was alive. Billy was one of Mary’s star puppets when she was alive but was supposedly buried alongside her when she died.

As Jamie continues his investigation, he finds himself back with his estranged father, Edward (Bob Gunton), who happens to be wheelchair-bound after a recent stroke. While father and son might not have much use for each other now, the secret to Jamie’s current situation, as well as the future of Ravens Fair, lies in Edward’s past. In a town where the living keep the secrets of the dead, Jamie will discover that not everything dead stays buried…and revenge is always a dish best served cold.

In many ways, Dead Silence seems like a test-run for Wan’s big hit, Insidious (2010). Both films share a similar aesthetic, feature imaginative setpieces (although Dead Silence is a much gorier film than Insidious), an emphasis on mood over action (although Dead Silence features about 200% more obvious jump scares than Insidious and The Conjuring (2013), combined) and feature plots that focus on “the sins of the fathers,” as it were. For all of this, however, Dead Silence ends up being a much sloppier film than Insidious: the subtler, low-key moments end up jammed next to some thoroughly stupid jump scares that tend to devalue the whole affair.

Truthfully, the whole film feels just a little sloppy, as if Wan couldn’t be quite bothered to dot the Is and cross the Ts. For every scene like the excruciatingly measured bit where Billy turns, inch by inch, to stare at Jaime, we get obvious schlock like the clichéd ‘scary-face” effect that gets superimposed over Mary’s dolls, ruining an otherwise ultra-creepy look (note to Wan: dolls that turn and look at you are terrifying…dolls with crappy CGI faces are the exact opposite). Dead Silence ends up looking very expensive and polished but often plays like a lowest-common-denominator B-movie. In particular, the film starts to get supremely silly once we get to the obligatory “humans into dolls” bit, an idea that would seem to be ripe with nightmare intent but just comes across as goopy and kind of nonsensical, in practice. Add to this a truly over-the-top score that manages to not only telegraph but belabor some of the film’s scarier elements and it’s easy to see how the film falls short of its own goals.

Which, ultimately, is a bit of shame, since there’s so much truly great stuff here. Ryan Kwanten, from TV’s True Blood, is a thoroughly likable hero, even if he can occasionally blend into the woodwork and Judith Roberts is perfect as the venomous, demonic Mary Shaw: it’s easy to see where the “old lady demon” in Insidious got its genesis, although I dare say that Mary’s backstory and puppet army make her the infinitely more frightening of the two. Donnie Wahlberg’s Det. Lipton is a complete asshole but he’s an entertaining one, proving that it would be entirely possible to get one complete actor out of the Wahlbergs if one could combine Donnie’s over-the-top mannerisms with Markie’s studiously underplayed style.

While the effects are, for the most part, quite good (there also seems to be several practical effects bits, which are always appreciated), Dead Silence’s sound design ends up being the hidden MVP, helping to accentuate the atmosphere of key scenes while contributing to the finale’s nightmarish sense of unreality. It’s the kind of subtle sound design that would be used to much greater effect in Insidious but it’s kind of cool to watch Wan take baby steps with the notion here. For the most part, Dead Silence looks and sounds great, even if the film can, at times, have all of the weight and importance of a Twinkie.

Despite not quite living up to its full potential, Dead Silence is a lot of fun: Mary’s backstory is pretty great, the film moves quickly and the ending, while a little obvious, is still nicely realized and manages to pack a bit of a gut-punch. It’s just too bad that the film often comes across as lazy, more content with throwing out a tedious jump scare than maintaining a consistently oppressive atmosphere. If anything, think of Dead Silence as a test-run for Insidious: while Wan and screenwriter Leigh Whannell might have lit the fuse with their first attempt at a more mature, mainstream horror film after Saw (2004), they would need to wait a few years to truly appreciate the explosion that was Insidious.