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Howling movie

Of all the werewolf movies made in the 80s, few are worth watching. However, a few classic do exist, and most horror fans agree that “The Howling” is one of them. While not quite as accomplished as An American Werewolf in London, “The Howling” was received well enough to spawn a long running series and start a short-lived werewolf fad-which is probably how a movie as abnormal as An American Werewolf in London found funding.

Like many aspects of the film, the plot feels a bit dated. After an encounter with a serial killer, newswoman Karen White is sent to “the Colony” by her psychiatrist. The Colony is a sort of hippie commune where patients are sent for seminars and natural solutions for their problems. Of course, the Colony is really a front for a clan of werewolves, who quickly turn Karen’s husband into one of their own.

Yes, the plot is silly, and the special effects haven’t held up much better. But despite its age, “The Howling” is still one of the better werewolf films out there. While the werewolves look a bit “muppetesque” today, at the time they were top notch. The design of the creatures is unique, mixing elements of wolf and man more equally than most other werewolf films. But what works the best about “The Howling” is the mood. With a somber, hopeless feel straight out of “Taxi Driver” and a great ending, the film’s atmosphere far overshadows the thin plot and dated effects. Everyone involved with the making of the film treats it very seriously, from director Joe Dante and writer John Sayles to the cast and effects artists. This serious, straight-faced attitude is what made the movie work; a lot of hard work was put into creating a moody, frightening film. Although the film may have lost some of its bite over the years, it will always remain one of the most respected werewolf films ever.

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Glory movie

I’ll admit that the Civil War just isn’t my choice of an afternoon. Between TNT’s affinity of putting Gettysburg on every 4th of July and the love that multiple friends of mine seem to harbor for drawn out epics concerning the Civil War (either on film or in book), I just have gotten fairly sick and tired of seeing the Civil War on celluloid again and again. You pile on the fact that I had to change my phrasing to “the war of Northern aggression” whilst I was living in Raleigh, North Carolina and I just don’t want to hear another thing for it.

This said, you can see why Glory is a very special exception to my rule of antipathy towards war films with muskets in them.

Marking Edward Zwick’s first, and perhaps finest, attempt at directing a serious film, Glory concerns the first black regiment of the Civil War. It follows the 54th of Massachusetts from their formation at the behest of Boston abolitionists to their martyrdom at Battery Wagner in South Carolina. A note: I feel no guilt about telling you this. It is akin to saying the ship sinks at the end of Titanic.

Although the film, as one retells the plot, should feel a little hokey, it has no such aura about it. It does not feel contrived. It does not feel blaring in its point about equality. What it does feel like is an incredibly compelling movie of the bond formed not only between soldiers but between man and man… regardless of color.

The script works, but does not work great. The acting works, but, with the exception of Denzel Washington’s Academy-Award winning performance, does not work great. In fact, aside from such things as those that grabbed awards in this film, nothing works exceptionally well.

What makes Glory the finest Civil War film (and one of the finest war films period) that I have ever seen whittles down to the infamous X-factor: The unidentifiable component of a movie known as magic. It is perhaps the end result of the ingredients of the witch’s brew of moviemaking.

This X-factor does not merit further discussion. It is, like the laws of Physics, one of the things of the universe to which the why can only be explained by a higher power. I have spent five years contemplating said X-factor, and am no closer to realizing what makes a good movie good then when I started. I only know this: when a movie is crap, it is crap. When a movie is good, it is good. And Glory is very, very good.

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Gangs of New York movie

Gangs of New York is director Martin Scorsese’s much-anticipated film about an uprising of Irish immigrants against a gang called “Nativists” who seek to drive them out of Civil-War-era New York City.

Scorcese has always been interested in stories of desperate individuals trying to rise above what oppresses them in a dangerous world. This time, he is far more interested in the social and political environment than he is in the actual story. Thus the story seems almost a trivial distraction at times, while the busy streets in the background keep us glued to the screen.

Leonardo Dicaprio stars as Amsterdam Vallon, a tough young Irishman who returns to a poor New York neighborhood called The Five Points in order to avenge the death of his father (played in the prologue by Liam Neeson.) Vallon’s father died a principled Irishman defending the rights of Irish immigrants to live in peace on American soil. The murderer was William Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis), also known as “Bill the Butcher,” leader of an immigrant-hating gang. Vallon’s revenge quest gets complicated when he finds himself adopted as the Butcher’s apprentice in all things devious and violent. The stakes are raised higher when he falls in love with Jenny Everdeane (Cameron Diaz), a pickpocket and con woman who is dangerously close to the Butcher’s cold cruel heart.

This story would seem predictable. But when the inevitable confrontation finally arrives, Scorsese pulls the rug out from under us. We realize the film is not about something as frivolous as a blood rivalry between two men. It is about the consequences that occur when the rich turn a blind eye to the poor.

The violent clashes that bloody these filthy streets are symptoms of poverty in the big city. In the 1860s, immigrant men were drafted into Civil War duty as soon as they stepped off the boats, even if they were not supporters of Lincoln. Meanwhile, rich men could buy their way out of the draft for about $300 bucks. Seeds were planted for distrust of the government, and prejudices that deepened during that time continue today. This deep civil unrest sparked a fire that became the Draft Riots, an outburst of rage and violence that threw New York City into a Civil War of its own, the bloodiest riots in American history. Scorsese concludes with a suggestion that the rich’s oppression of the poor continues today.

Dicaprio makes Vallon a charismatic savior, rallying the Irish to his cause. But alas, he is no Hamlet. The film seems to suggest that his revenge quest is completely justified; there is no doubt in his mind, and the camera does not blink either. Alas, he is only a savior by violence, far too willing to compromise his innocence in order to achieve his goals. Thus, the price of vengeance grows costly indeed. Fortunately, the film does not revel in his vengeance or glorify it. Indeed, by the time we reach the showdown, Vallon’s quest seems like a mad preoccupation in view of the larger spectacle.

Dicaprio’s solid work pales in comparison with the spectacular return of Daniel Day-Lewis, who steals the show. His sneering, roaring, monstrous performance as the Butcher will remind you of the seemingly superhuman work Robert DeNiro performed in his prime.

The supporting cast is effective as well, featuring strong turns from John C. Reilly (Magnolia), Henry Thomas (E.T. The Extra Terrestrial), and Brendan Gleeson (Braveheart.) Cameron Diaz holds her own in the midst of such formidable talents, playing the part of Jenny, a beautiful pickpocket with a dangerous secret.

The script by Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian and Kenneth Lonergan shows a close study of the dialects, accents, and prejudices of the day. The cast sinks their teeth into the script – by Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian, and Kenneth Lonergan – with the same enthusiasm they would give to Shakespeare. In fact, the film resembles the sort of bloodstained epic Shakespeare would have written had he lived later and been a student of American history.

Gangs
is a complicated film, both great and deeply flawed. I dream of seeing the already famous early cut, a much longer film that the studio head eventually persuaded Scorsese to abridge. I think there are many plot gaps that need filling, especially regarding Vallon’s history, and how it is that he rallies the Irish in the end.

I am especially disappointed in the love story. Even though Diaz throws herself enthusiastically into the role of Jenny, the romance lacks distinction. The writers fail to convince me that this pair is enjoying anything more than infatuation and perhaps some sympathy born of suffering. In the latter part of the film, just when I would expect their relationship to deepen, Jenny all but disappears, receding to play the role of nursemaid.

The scene that interests me the most, and that Scorsese fails to explore deeply enough, juxtaposes each of the forces in the film praying to the same god. The rich appeal to him as the “god of mercy”… ironic, since they are willing to show no mercy to those who need it most. The Butcher prays to a god of strength, and clearly Bill believes the strongest is the one who is in God’s favor. Amsterdam also prays to a god of strength, appealing for blessing on his vengeful quest. None of them mention a god of Love. None of them are willing to take on the character of Christ, who suffered willingly the beatings dealt him by a cruel world.

But much of the film still works. It plays best as a dirge for the poor who still suffer from the neglect of the rich and powerful. Regardless of the creative liberties taken by Scorsese in telling his tale, it’s the most shocking and troubling film about American history I’ve ever seen.

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The Game of Their Lives movie

In the unabashed little fan-oriented film The Game of Their Lives (based, as such movies always are, on a real story), a motley group of athletes find common cause and team pride in representing the U.S. of A. against opponents from the smug country that dominates their sport. And against all odds, on unfamiliar soil, the Americans…well, guess. Only this time the sport is soccer, the setting is an immigrant enclave of St. Louis in 1950, the supercilious enemy is England (embodied by Gavin Rossdale), and many of the well-mannered young men are recent GIs who would never use the word ”miracle” loosely. (The ridiculously good-looking cast of footballers includes Wes Bentley, Gerard Butler, and Richard Jenik.)

Coaching from the same playbook with which they made Rudy and Hoosiers, director David Anspaugh and screenwriter Angelo Pizzo create a reverent fable of such soothing proportions that it would be churlish to ask if America ever really looked like that — or sounded like that, either: As an old sportswriter, Patrick Stewart tries out an accent left over by the Pepperidge Farm cookie man.

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Flesh & Blood movie

The film begins in 1501, where an unnamed city in Renaissance Italy is under siege. Many landsknecht mercenaries were hired by the city’s former ruler, Arnolfini (Fernando Hilbeck), to reinstate him. Arnolfini’s Son, Steven, tries an experimental plan to blow open the city gate with explosives, but it fails rather comically. The city will be taken with an old-fashioned assault. To motivate his men, Arnolfini grants his troops 24 hours to take any spoils they can find within its walls. The plan works, and the men successfully take the city and slaughter the defenders.

Arnolfini turns to the Mercenary Captain, Hawkwood (Jack Thompson), to stop his men’s rampant pillaging. He fears there will be nothing left for him to rule. Hawkwood is indifferent to Arnolfini’s demands. Captain Hawkwood had accidentally attacked a young Nun during the attack and feared her death would lead to his damnation in the afterlife. Arnolfini promises to get medical attention for her if Hawkwood will rein in his men. Hawkwood reluctantly agrees, even turning on Martin (Rutger Hauer), his friend and second-in-command. Arnolfini’s cavalry, who are personally loyal to him, round up the foot-soldiers. The mercenaries are summarily ejected without food, weapons, or shelter. They disperse throughout the Italian countryside, bitter and angry.

Martin’s son is stillborn to one of the camp followers (prostitutes) in the pouring rain. Martin decides to bury the infant, but in doing so unearths a wooden statue of Saint Martin of Tours — a saint with a sword. The mercenaries’ chaplain takes this as a sign from God that they should all follow Martin as their new leader. Desperate, Martin and his small band soon head out to seek revenge and better fortunes.

Meanwhile, Arnolfini’s son, Steven (Tom Burlinson), is betrothed to Agnes (Jennifer Jason Leigh), a young woman he has never met. Steven is an intellectual who prefers working on his inventions to romance or politics and has misgivings about the arranged marriage, but Agnes wins him over once they finally meet. Agnes is a remarkable manipulator to the point of callousness, and in a scene where she is curious about sex, she orders her maid to have sex with her lover (a soldier in her entourage) so she can observe the act. Once she has seen enough, she steps in and orders the pair to stop. She does however appear to display genuine feelings for Steven. In a scene beneath two rotting hanged corpses she convinces him to eat a mandrake root with her, challenging the man of science that it will make the pair fall in love, as in accordance with folk law. Their entourage is soon attacked and robbed by Martin’s band who have taken to brigandage. Arnolfini is critically injured in the attack, and Agnes hides so the mercenaries will not find her. She is hauled away, hidden among her valuable dowry.

Martin discovers Agnes later that evening as they begin to strip the caravan of all its valuables. The men seek to gang rape the pretty noblewoman, but Martin (as their new leader) decides to take her himself. She immediately begins flirting with and attempting to seduce the virile Martin, realizing that he will protect what he considers “his.”

Martin, Agnes, and the rest of the band come upon a Castle, some of whose inhabitants are suffering from the Plague. The Mercenaries capture the place with ease, thanks to the help of Agnes, who appears to be adapting to her new circumstances remarkably well. They set themselves up in style, and Agnes begins grooming Martin as a feudal lord. He enjoys wearing the fine clothing (formerly belonging to the Castle’s owner), food, and the notion of being a Peer. While a competent soldier, he has never dreamed of having so much. Agnes recognizes this, and strokes his ego whenever possible to aid her position. She proves herself a remarkable manipulator, and for the second time in the film succeeds in making a man (this time Martin) fall in love with her. Before long she seems almost to be enjoying herself, and is soon considered part of the group by the mercenaries. Seemingly happy with the situation, she appears to have given up on her former life.

Her fiancé is determined to win her back however, appearing to have fallen in love with the girl. Steven, though well educated, is not a soldier and has only a small group of cavalry at his disposal. He desperately turns to Hawkwood for guidance, but discovers that Hawkwood only wants to lead a quiet life married to the former nun he had injured. Steven is forced to blackmail Hawkwood by threatening to have the nun — now mentally impaired by her injury — locked away, proving that he can be as ruthless as his father when necessary. Steven then pursues Martin with Hawkwood’s help.

Steven discovers Martin’s whereabouts, but his forces are insufficient to take a defended castle. During the siege Martin confronts Agnes about where her feelings lie in regard to himself and her fiancé. He reveals that he loves Agnes, and could not exist without her, claiming he’d kill her before losing her to Steven. Agnes in turn says she loves them both, because they are one and the same, only of different ages. When Steven builds an experimental siege tower in an attempt to storm the castle, Martin recalls Steven’s earlier (failed) gunpowder bomb and uses a version to successfully destroy the mobile siege tower in turn. The stalemate is finally broken when the plague begins to spread among Steven’s forces, infecting Captain Hawkwood and others. Trapped in the castle after the destruction of the siege tower, Steven is captured by the mercenaries and shackled in their courtyard. Agnes joins in the torture and abuse of the captive, and even makes love to Martin in his presence. She still has feelings for Steven though, and we see her hesitation and reluctance. However she does not wish to jeopardise her position and we see (albeit under pressure) would rather kill Steven than lose face amongst the mercenaries.

Using a fictional new Arabic medical technique mentioned by Steven, Hawkwood is able to cure his plague. He has no forces to continue the siege, and Steven is presumed lost though. In a last-ditch effort, Hawkwood flings pieces of diseased, dead dog into the Castle via catapult. One chunk is tossed into the castle’s well by the chained Steven, effectively poisoning it. Hawkwood then leaves to get additional troops. Agnes sees the poisoning of the well, and Steven tells her to make her choice whether to tell the mercenaries or not.

Most of the mercenaries wish to leave the castle and flee with their loot for fear of contracting the plague, however Martin convinces them to stay. The next day they meet for breakfast and Agnes watches as, one by one, they drink the infected water. When Martin begins to drink, she slaps the cup from his hands. The other mercenaries soon grow ill and begin dying of the plague. Furious at Martin, they beat him and hurl him into the well. As she did before with Steven, Agnes joins in with the mercenaries in taunting Martin and hurls a jug at him.

Soon after, as the mercenaries flee the castle for fear of contracting the plague Hawkwood and Arnolfini, who has recovered from his wound, return with an army. Inside the castle Martin escapes from the well with the help of Steven, who he promises to release him in exchange. However on seeing the besieging army he flees to the belfry, leaving him chained still. The Castle is soon breached and a bitter but one-sided fight ensues.

Steven manages to free himself, and as the final battle rages he races to find Agnes. During the fighting the wooden structure of the belfry catches alight. Before long all the remaining mercenaries, save for Martin, are dead. Hawkwood watches dispassionately one by one his former soldiers meet their end.

Martin meanwhile confronts Agnes, who professes that she still loves him. Maddened and convinced that she has been manipulating him all along, he seeks to murder her as he promised. Before he can complete the act Steven arrives and a bitter fight ensues before the two. The cunning and hardened mercenary eventually overpowers Steven, and has nearly succeeded in drowning him when Agnes strikes him over the head. Leaving the unconscious Martin to drown, she recovers Steven and they run to escape the blazing castle. Hawkwood finds them and leads the pair out. Martin however is still alive, but before he can confront them a burning rafter falls from the ceiling, sealing him in. Just before the room completely collapses we see Martin staring after Agnes with a look of loss, and for the first time, sadness.

Agnes and Steven leave the burning castle along with Hawkwood and his army. We see the surviving camp followers of the mercenaries beginning their careers anew with the victors. The couple embrace, but over Steven’s shoulder Agnes sees a figure, Martin, still alive and escaping from the castle, a sack of loot over his shoulder. She says nothing, allowing him to slip away unnoticed.

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Flags of Our Fathers movie

Having over two dozen films under his belt, Clint Eastwood’s resume as a director is one of the strongest out there whether it be award-winning dramas or simple action packed entertainment vehicles. More than most filmmakers these days, the man has always seemed to have a keen understanding of story dynamics, character construction and general filmmaking techniques which means that even when only some of the films achieved real greatness, almost all of them have always had a richness and texture about them.

Whilst “Flags” continues that tradition, sadly it doesn’t reach those levels of greatness. There is no singled out problem here, rather a series of fundamental flaws that end up collapsing the film under its own weight. It’s a shame really as there’s something to admire here, a refreshingly cynical deconstruction of the heroism myth. Brutal, biting and ultimately tragic - there is a story to be told about the events of Iwo Jima and the survivors who came back from it.

‘Flags’ sadly fails to tell that story effectively or even creatively. A lot has to do with the core structure of the film which splits events up into two parts - the actual battle at Iwo Jima, and the lives of three soldiers from that front line who’re exploited by the US Government to fund their war effort. There’s a framing device involving one of the veteran’s sons interviewing the other survivors, but its purely for manipulative reasons to appeal to an audience’s sentimentality.

The majority of the film though keeps cutting back and forth between the two big subplots, a problem in that the non-war scenes are just not interesting and feel more like a drawn-out coda than an actual subplot. Even the war scenes themselves, whilst both brutal and powerful, have all been done before and progressively lose their impact as we keep moving back and forth from them. Worse still the jumps aren’t always linear and will often repeat previously seen material from different perspectives without justifying the need to have that second look back.

This could be overcome if delivered from a strong perspective but none of the characters are developed enough for that purpose. Good actors like Joseph Cross, Jamie Bell, Robert Patrick, Neal McDonough, etc. are stuck with such interchangeable parts that you spend most of your time trying to figure out which one it is on screen at the moment that’s dying or shooting. There’s hints of a strong character here or there, but it’s all kept toned down in order to give the three leads their share of time.

Considering the three leads though one wonders why. Phillippe is the bland noble hero, Bradford the slick opportunist, and Beach the haunted, belligerent and often blubbering drunk - that pretty much sums up all the three leads character development over the two-plus hour runtime. All three actors have displayed abilities far more capable than this, but each is stuck with flat parts that barely have any meat - short of Beach’s tired and over cooked racism subplot.

There’s a real lack of focus overall to what the film’s trying to say as the narrative often switches between moments of harsh reality, glib sentimentality and biting commentary. The war scenes are like every other movie of that type - war is hell, eager innocence gets lost, ultimately the sacrifice is worth it, and so on. The film does most of the fighting upfront and covers everything up until the flag raising pretty effectively, however the following month-long battle is rendered in quick and somewhat confusing segments strewn throughout the second half. Still, for the most part it remains pretty consistent in its intention and impressive in its execution.

The non-war scenes though are much more muddled and generic. Most of these scenes deal with the blatant manipulation of image and fame to sell the war to a country tired of fighting it, an interesting idea which yields the film’s most memorable image (a ‘bad taste’ dessert). Yet it’s a theme that’s drawn out far too long and repeatedly bludgeoned into the audience without any finesse or real serious exploration. Hell part of the image’s mystique is that we didn’t see the solider’s faces, a though never mentioned in the film though one scene does at least acknowledge the power of imagery in war (citing a famous Vietnam war photo, though not THE famous one of the young nude running girl covered in napalm burns).

Worse still, when these scenes turn into blind patriotic ra-ra sentimentality, one wonders if Eastwood is about the only one who could have the balls to pull off such a blatantly manipulative switch. Then again with “Crash” writer Paul Haggis co-writing the script, it should come as little surprise - especially considering the first two acts are filled with monologues which hit home repeatedly points we already know. By the time the “what happened after the war” montage kicks into gear, the movie has long checked out of any credibility let alone emotional connection (even “Crash” had pace and style).

Most of the production departments can’t be faulted for their work. Whilst the camera is often so all over the place it’s hard to get any bearings let alone figure out who we’re watching, the sets and recreations of both America in the 40’s and the barren gray lands of the Japanese island war zone are excellent and visually splashy. Effects are top notch and convincingly portray real battle planes, vehicles and locations. The most notable exception to all the kudos is the music which plays the same simple piano chords repeatedly, long past the point of annoyance.

“Flags” has its moments. Clint’s war scenes are still brutal and affecting to an audience jaded by similar scenes in countless other movies. There’s some powerful take no prisoner moments examining the way Governments have no problems killing and exploiting its citizens for their own gain. The ending montage is a welcome and honorable look at the real life Iwo Jima battle (and go to display how convincingly Eastwood’s crew recreated the era). Yet it’s often lost amidst a sense of no direction or central focus, whilst paradoxically the film remains far too simplistic, sentimental and almost retarded in its consistent beating to death of the image people have of what it takes to be a hero. Here’s hoping the more interesting sounding Japanese companion piece fares better.

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Catch a Fire movie

Tales of ordinary people overcoming an oppressive regime are nothing new in cinema, but of course we now live in a time when the terms terrorist and freedom fighter have never been more obfuscated by the agendas of various power players. The result is what were once simple morality stories have now become engendered with their own multitude of meanings depending upon not only the politics of the filmmakers and but each individual viewer themselves.

This year has seen projects from both the radical far sides of politics cover the topic of terrorism in their own way - the far left got the subversively bold but heavily stylised “V for Vendetta”, the far right got the slickly-produced but hopelessly inaccurate “The Path to 9/11″ mini-series. Now comes “Catch a Fire”, a more mature, objective and middle ground take on the topic as seen set against the rise of apartheid in 1980’s South Africa.

Director Phillip Noyce is no stranger to the thriller genre, with work such as the critically acclaimed “Rabbit Proof Fence” and the brilliant “The Quiet American” to more conventional but no less compelling fare like “Patriot Games”, “Clear and Present Danger”, “Dead Calm” and “The Saint”. The helmer knows how to shoot movies in his sleep and always strives for a realism and grounded quality to his films but without the ego-stroking or showing off style of all too many directors. HIs films are topical but rarely preachy, and always treats the audience with a sense of intelligence by allowing them to come to their own conclusions.

That style applies to ‘Fire’ but what’s missing here is the story to fire us up. Patrick Chamusso’s life is a fascinating one but writer Shawn Slovo seems so intent on covering all the bases of the man’s life that the key moments of it, most notably the torture that changed his entire perspective, seem glossed over and so it never emotionally connects. His subsequen