I Hear the Train A-comin'...

Well, seeing as how I lambasted the original so cruelly a few blogs back, I thought it incumbent upon me to go check out the new incarnation of the movie 3:10 to Yuma, based on the short story by Elmore Leonard. For those who came in late, the original film, made 50 years ago, mind you, starred Glenn Ford (Pa Kent in the first Christopher Reeves' Superman film) as the roguish, charming, homicidal stagecoach robber Ben Wade and veteran character actor (and Supporting Actor Oscar winner for Johnny Eager) Van Heflin as Dan Evans, the desperate farmer who accepts $200 to escort the captured Wade to the town of Contention, where Wade is to be put on the title train to Yuma prison, where he will be properly tried and then pretty much promptly hung. The film is essentially a character study, as the two men come to understand and to some small degree respect one another, on the long trip to Contention. There is some action and gunplay along the way but the biggest problem with the story, as I've mentioned before, is that it has one of the most anticlimactic climaxes I've ever seen in a film. It's the kind of ending that has you leaving the theater shaking your head, wondering why you bothered to watch it all in the first place.

The new incarnation of Yuma stars Oscar winner and perennial bad boy Russell Crowe as Wade and Batman Begins' own Christian Bale as Evans, and each of them brings more of what the characters are to the roles than did the originals. Crowe's Wade is more roguish, more charming, and infinitely more homicidal than Ford's, while I've rarely seen a more woebegone farmer than Bale's Evans. I should also make mention of Ben Foster as Wade's right-hand man, Charlie Prince, a role assayed in the original by the late Richard Jaeckel. As Prince, Foster gives new meaning to the word psychopath. Generally excellent in a variety of supporting parts are Gretchen Mol, Peter Fonda, Alan Tudyk, and especially Logan Lerman as Evans' older son William.

There is a lot more action in this new incarnation of Yuma, though the film remains at its heart a study of two men of radically different moralities thrown into mortal conflict. The climax, which I found to be the single most disappointing part of the original, is much, much better here, though still not entirely satisfying. Over all, however, I'd have to give this film a solid three claws up.

Truth to tell, though, as I sat there watching, there was only one real thought that kept rattling around inside my head:

"Y'know," I kept thinking, "What this film really needs is a catchy theme song."

This Film is Rated "ARRRRH"

AVAST, MATEYS! THAR BE SPOILERS APLENTY AHEAD!
YE'VE BEEN DULY WARNED!

Several years ago, when my lovely wife Christine and I attended the Disneyland premiere of Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, I thought it was the best pirate movie I'd seen since Burt Lancaster's classic The Crimson Pirate decades before. Granted, intervening films like Pirates, Swashbuckler and Cutthroat Island made that a comparatively easy thing to accomplish, but still...

In PotC:tCofBP, swords were crossed, swashes were buckled, and in Captain Jack Sparrow, the always-brilliant Johnny Depp created a character unique in movie history. Granted, I was already inclined to like the film since it was being written by friends of mine and, thanks to their generosity, Marv Wolfman and I had spent a day on the set, meeting Keira Knightly, Orlando Bloom, and Geoffrey Rush, and watching the crew shoot the climactic sword fight in the treasure cave. In fact, I still have a few "gold" doubloons from the cave floor laying around the house somewhere as a memento. But I also like to think I'm enough of a professional that I won't let personal allegiances interfere with me giving an honest review.

In point of fact, I did not particularly like the first sequel, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. Although I had fun much of the time while I was watching it, in the end I felt it was overlong, left far too many plot threads dangling (the problem with most middle films of a trilogy), and turned Jack Sparrow from a charming rogue to a repugnant, self-serving thug. While I know that the writers had always intended Jack to be totally amoral, it doesn't mean I have to like it.

I guess that's why I thrilled to report that I absolutely LOVED the latest (and, theoretically, final) chapter in the saga, Pirates of the Caribbean: at World's End. While it is by far the longest of the three films, clocking in at a little under three hours, the time seemed to fly past. There was none of the usual squirming and fidgeting that occurs when you're becoming impatient, waiting for the film to end. Frankly, I'd have been just as happy had the film never ended. The entire cast of the previous film was back and, wisely, all new characters added were in service to the half-dozen different stories they already had in place and needed to resolve. The two standout new characters were, of course, the incomparable Chow Yun-Fat as the leader of the Singapore pirates and the incomprehensible Keith Richards as Jack Sparrow's pirate dad. While still self-serving, Depp's Jack Sparrow was once again the charming rogue and, as Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann, Orlando and Keira took their characters to whole new levels of romance and butt-kicking. As the monstrous Davy Jones, the always-extraordinary Bill Nighy was at turns terrifying and heartbreaking.

In many ways, though, what impressed me most about PotC:aWE was the skill with which screenwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio managed to resolve all the many dangling plotlines left over from the previous films, and the often-ingenious ways in which they did so. Everything ends satisfactorily in PotC:aWE, though not necessarily in the way one might expect. There is nothing that I can think of that hasn't been addressed and resolved. And that, in itself, is a major magic trick. In fact, the only thing I can think of that could have improved the film is that every member of the audience be given a Tia Dalma-to-English Dictionary, as Naomie Harris's Caribbean accent couldn't be cut with a sharp new machete.

Pirates of the Caribbean: at World's End certainly will not need my recommendation to break buckets of box office records this weekend, but I'm giving it anyway. Go see it. You won't be sorry you did.

Halfway Into the Valley of Death Rode the 300

Well, we just got back from an early screening of Frank Miller's 300 and I'm pleased to say it's just about everything we hoped it would be. Visually, it captures the look of Frank's graphic novel splendidly. It's a wonder to behold. The story is one of history's great tales of heroism and sacrifice and this film definitely does it justice. The acting is nothing spectacular, but utterly servicable. Good solid performances all around.

One word of caution, though: this film is as graphically violent as any I've seen. Blood sprays across the screen in great crimson geysers, limbs are whacked off with gay abandon (as well as with swords and spears), heads are stuck on pikes, bodies are quite literally stacked like cordwood. You know, basically your average weekend in Compton.

Still, as I sat there watching a battlefield strewn with thousands of bodies, all I could think was, "Wow, they've killed almost as many people here as Jack Bauer does in a typical 24 hours."

Go see it and let me know what you think.

Movie Minutes - The First in a Series

Caught a couple of the season's major movies over the last few weeks, and since I've promised to share my moviegoing experiences with you here in my Blogosphere, grab some popcorn and settle in. I'll try to be brief.

WAR! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR?

A few weeks back, I attended a screening on the Warner Bros. lot of "Letters From Iwo Jima," Clint Eastwood's companion piece to his "Flags of Our Fathers," told from the point of view of the Japanese soldiers who were ordered to defend the island, almost to the last man. The screening was introduced to us by Steven Spielberg himself, standing in for Clint, who was on the road with his family. Spielberg told us that Clint had asked him to introduce the film as Clint himself would. "In other words," Clint told Steven, "Be brief." Steven was. But, thankfully, the film itself was not. "Letters" is an extraordinary film, far superior to "Flags" yet shot in a fraction of the time and for a fraction of the budget. Once again, Eastwood proves himself one of our best directors, and Ken Watanabe, who played Ra's al Ghul in "Batman Begins" and the title role in "The Last Samurai", gives a performance easily worthy of Oscar consideration. It's compelling, frightening, and extraordinarily touching. The film is primarily in Japanese with English subtitles and goes into wide release in the next few weeks. Take the time to see it. You won't be disappointed.

HAPPY TALK

On Christmas day, my dear wife and I and a couple of close friends took in "Happy Feet" at the local megaplex. I liked it a great deal, but not quite as much as I hoped to. The CG animation is exceptional. The voicework is marvelous. But it's not exactly the film the trailers lead to you expect. It takes an odd turn about midway through that makes it more -- and yet somehow less -- than the movie you thought you'd be dancing to. Catch a matinee, but catch it.

THE HEART OF THE TIGER

Last Thursday, my wife and I and my buddy Bob Skir caught a showing of "Rocky Balboa" at the nearby Pacific Galleria. At some point during the last decade or so, Sylvester Stallone somehow became a parody of his former self. Maybe it was a series of bad choices in screen roles, maybe it was just that he was such an easy shot. I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. All I know is that the Sly Stallone I watched last week was a performer at the top of his form. Screenwriter Stallone provided Actor Stallone with a lot of rich material for Director Stallone to play with. It's a memorable performance, easily on a par with the original film, the one that Stallone also wrote and refused to sell to the studios unless he was hired to play the title role. You know, the movie that made Stallone a star. If I had to choose one word to describe "Rocky Balboa" it would be heart. This movie has more heart than all of this country's cardiac units combined. Sly sends Rocky off exactly as he should, with the audience on its feet, cheering. It's well worth your time.

AND I AM TELLING YOU, YOU MUST BE GOING

Finally, last Saturday, I saw the capper of the bunch, one of the best films I've seen this or any other year. I saw "Dreamgirls" and I am almost unable to describe it. Screenwriter Bill Condon, who also wrote the Oscar-winning "Chicago," served as Director this time as well, and produced a blockbuster of a film. There isn't a performance in the bunch that isn't worthy of Oscar nomination, but I have to single out Eddie Murphy for Best Supporting Actor and the breathtaking Jennifer Hudson for Best Supporting Actress. In fact, when the film was over, I turned to my buddy Bob and asked, "So they're going to nominate four other actresses for Best Supporting Actress, why?" Watching Jennifer (a semi-finalist on American Idol) strut her stuff on screen was watching a star being born, like the feeling people must have had when they first saw Streisand in "Funny Girl". I can't wait to see what she does next. Run, do not walk, to see this movie. In fact, I may just go back and see again today myself.

Okay, that catches me up for the moment, though I'm going to a screening tonight of "Borat" at the Directors' Guild, where Sasha Baron Cohen will be doing a Q&A after the film. I'll let you know how that turns out.

In the meanwhile, as Roger Ebert and the late, lamented Gene Siskel used to say, the balcony is closed.