Saturday, May 20, 2017

More Chest-Bursting: "Alien: Covenant" shifts between bigger goals and splatter but still solid

Alien: Covenant (2017)
120 min., rated R.

Ridley Scott is not being coy this time. “Alien: Covenant” is another prequel to his 1979 sci-fi horror masterpiece “Alien,” but it’s also a sequel to 2012’s “Prometheus,” connective tissue and a stand-alone organism that unfairly sparked a polarizing reaction within the fanboy community. This time out, director Scott and screenwriters John Logan (2015’s “Spectre”) and Dante Harper seem to have made sure to limit the philosophical discussions of creation and not to disappoint with plenty of Xenomorph iconography and gross-out body-horror spectacle. In the process, “Alien: Covenant” tries to satisfy two conflicting modes—the probing of big existential questions and the face-hugging, chest-bursting carnage—as if the claustrophobic, slow-burning “Alien” suddenly morphed into James Cameron’s more action-oriented “Aliens" midway through with ideas of "Prometheus" sprinkled in for good measure. The two halves are not always elegantly spliced together, but taken on a scene-to-scene basis, it hits the spot for one who’s always wanted to see Scott make a space-set “Friday the 13th” with aliens subbing for Mrs. Voorhees.

It’s 2104, fourteen years after Prometheus sole survivor Dr. Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and android David (Michael Fassbender) headed off to reach the home planet of mankind’s creators. The 15-person crew aboard the Covenant is on a colonization mission through space with over 2,000 colonists and embryos in tow, as well as the ship’s synthetic, Walter (Michael Fassbender), an advanced and unflappable 2.0 version. After an accidental fire inside the cryosleep pod of the captain (an uncredited James Franco) takes his life as the rest of the crew is already awakened, the faith-affirming Oram (Billy Crudup) assumes his place as captain to lead the crew, all of them couples, to a new habitable home. Once pilot Tennessee (Danny McBride) receives a rogue transmission from a planet, the acting captain decides they should land and investigate, against the wiser opinion of the former captain’s grieving widow, Daniels (Katherine Waterston). The planet looks like paradise, full of human-planted wheat and vegetation but without any other life in sight. Then, in case it needs to be said, the crew makes some horrific discoveries that lead them to realize the planet is not as hospitable as they’re hoping. Now, where are the acid-blooded aliens?

Right down to the line-by-line reveal of the title card and a prologue with David (Michael Fassbender) and creator Peter Weyland (Guy Pierce), “Alien: Covenant” is very much of a piece with both of its progenitors. With that said, this film almost seems like an apology to the “Prometheus” naysayers, as there’s a tug-of-war between delivering as a solidly icky genre picture and then sometimes aiming higher than that. One might have hoped for fewer half-measures, but director Ridley Scott still knows how to play his audience like a fiddle. Worth the price of admission alone, one pleasingly visceral and harrowing set-piece in which an infected crew member is quarantined by Tennessee’s wife, Maggie Faris (Amy Seimetz), before all hell breaks loose in a medical bay is a showstopper. It’s as vise-gripped and rattling as anything Scott has ever devised and directed, and for the most part, not many other sequences thereafter match this particular one’s heightened panic, anxiety and nasty splatter. The third act grows a bit erratic, with an over-the-top showdown that’s still awesome but seems to come from a tonally different film, as well as a hurriedly paced shower sex scene with an ‘80s slasher-movie gore shot. The trajectory to the final scene may or may not be meant to be obvious and perversely toying with expectations (a devious and amusingly timed wind-blown hood points to "yes"), but the implication of the consequences to follow is deliciously bleak for mankind.

The idea that the Covenant crew is comprised of married couples theoretically enhances the emotional stakes, but the screenplay does not gain nearly enough mileage out of it; for example, there is a gay couple on board, although it wouldn’t be hard for viewers to miss the hint if they weren’t looking for it. Save for one or two crew members, it’s unfortunate that the characters on hand aren’t asked to be much more than reliably ill-fated fodder for the aliens to burst through and tear apart. An extended scene that more properly established the close-knit crew’s easy rapport was released as a promo clip but was apparently scrapped from the final cut, so it seems almost like a waste for such respectable performers as Billy Crudup, Demi├ín Bichir, Carmen Ejogo, Callie Hernandez, Jussie Smollett, and James Franco (who gets one line in a video message) to show up in negligibly handled roles before getting picked off in gruesome fashion. When a character goes off alone to “take a leak” or “wash up,” the viewer knows he or she won’t be returning with a heartbeat. Even as the audience is steps ahead of them, the characters are at least reasonably unprepared when their fellow passengers are infected with alien spores through an ear canal and up the old nose. And, in order to advance this film’s ties to “Alien,” does someone make the forehead-smackingly foolish decision to put their face where they clearly should not? Of course. 

The closest the film comes to offering up an identifiable hero is Katherine Waterston’s Daniels, filling her niche as the film’s de facto Ellen Ripley figure and bringing enough weight with the loss of her husband with whom she planned to start a new life. There is actually even a place here for Danny McBride, who surprisingly brings gravitas as wisecracking, cowboy-wearing pilot Tennessee. On the other hand, Michael Fassbender (one of the key holdovers from “Prometheus”) is outstanding in dual roles as the upgraded Walter and the self-aware, Wagner-loving David. For an actor who’s essentially playing against (and, at one point, kisses) himself on screen, Fassbender navigates between playing two distinctly different androids who share one face but act as good and evil in their objectives. How these androids evolve will be kept a mystery, but Fassbender is mighty chilling with a sly touch of droll humor and brings to life two of the most compelling “people” on screen.

It’s something of a disappointment when a superior “Alien” knockoff called “Life” preceded “Alien: Covenant” two months ago and it didn’t even have Xenomorphs or the badass Ripley-like heroine. As a Ridley Scott-directed film with the “Alien” moniker, this one has too much taut, muscular filmmaking craft on display to complain too much, but it had the potential to be so much more. On a technical level, the film is mostly spectacular. With strains of Jerry Goldsmith’s original score and Marc Streitenfeld’s “Prometheus” score, Jed Kurzel’s piece is unsettling on its own. When cinematographer Dariusz Wolski doesn’t see fit to up the intensity by using a too-jittery shooting style for an attack in a field at night, the cinematography is forebodingly majestic and moody; that misstep is more an exception than the rule but it’s not a total deal-breaker. H.R. Giger’s creature design is also still beautiful and grotesque as ever, even if CGI is sometimes too apparent this time around, taking one momentarily out of the film. When all is said and done, “Alien: Covenant” firmly answers the question of whether or not a retread can get a pass and still be worthy of its legacy when it’s this effectively jolting and expertly made. For a franchise that was beginning to jump the shark by crossing over with the jungle-dwelling Predators, this isn’t a bad place to be.


Thursday, May 11, 2017

Amazon Women: Schumer and Hawn make inspired team in lightweight "Snatched"

Snatched (2017)
91 min., rated R.

When it was first announced that Amy Schumer and Goldie Hawn were pairing up to play daughter and mother in an upcoming film project, it seemed so right and pretty inspired. Even more exciting was the news that 71-year-old Hawn would finally be making her way back to the big screen in her first lead role in fifteen years since playing opposite Susan Sarandon in 2002’s “The Banger Sisters.” With such a can't-miss prospect to see these two generations of blonde funny women working together, R-rated adventure-comedy "Snatched" could have been even more, but it does carve out a worthwhile niche for itself not unlike many of Hawn's comedies from the '80s and '90s. As a chance to see the winning on-screen compatibility between these two leads, it's lightweight but loosely played and frequently funny, which for a comedy is all you really need it to be. Schumer and Hawn make effortless comedic foils and are clearly having such a ball that their fun becomes infectious even for those who weren't there on set. As long as one takes into account what the goals of the filmmakers were, "Snatched" is a minor summer-launching surprise.

Fired from her retail job and dumped by her musician boyfriend (Randall Park) all in the same day, directionless thirtysomething Emily Middleton (Amy Schumer) is in a state of flux. Her biggest problem now is finding a plus-one for the nonrefundable trip to Ecuador she booked as a romantic getaway. Heartbroken from her unforeseen break-up, Emily goes to visit divorced mother Linda (Goldie Hawn) and convinces Mom that she could use another adventure outside of staying home with her two cats and nerdy, agoraphobic adult son Jeffrey (Ike Barinholtz). Not long after arriving at the resort, Emily meets a charming hunk named James (Tom Bateman), who shows interest at the bar and shows her a good night. In the morning, James offers to take both Emily and Linda on a day trip to see some local sights, but right before Linda’s guard goes back up, it’s too late. Mother and daughter realize that they have been kidnapped by a Colombian crime lord (Oscar Jaenada) who tries holding them for ransom before they escape and try to find their way through the jungle to the U.S. Embassy in Bogota. Along the way, too, Emily wishes her mother would stop insulting her for once and Linda wishes Emily would finally grow up. Maybe this will be the trip they needed to reconnect.

With the efforts of director Jonathan Levine (2015’s “The Night Before”) and screenwriter Katie Dippold (2016’s “Ghostbusters”), “Snatched” generally finds a smooth balance between a mismatched mother-daughter relationship, a palatable kidnapping plot in a foreign land, and Amy Schumer’s brand of raunchy, outspoken humor. On the page, Dippold’s script builds a believable enough foundation with Emily and Linda’s relationship, but Amy Schumer and Goldie Hawn are really the ones to ensure that their bond strikes a genuinely sweet and sincerely felt note. When Emily and Linda do spar and hash things out, even while they’re traipsing through the jungle and trying to stay alive, it doesn’t seem too disingenuous, and the film even earns a bit of pathos when reaching for it. It also helps that Linda is pretty knowing that they need to save the apologies and touchy-feely stuff for later once they get out of peril. The particulars of the kidnapping chase-thriller plot are inconsequential, but director Levine finds the proper comic timing without the long-winded shagginess of overt ad-libbing that dominates a lot of contemporary comedies. He keeps the pacing breezy, averts expectations here and there by putting sneakily fresh spins on seemingly familiar joke setups, and lets planted gags pay off later instead of just making them throwaways (for instance, a dog whistle that Linda gives to Emily as a rape whistle follows the rule of Chekhov’s Gun).

In spite of Emily’s selfish nature and propensity to share everything on social media, Schumer is never less than a blowsy, fearless comedic force; in fact, this will be known as the movie where she gives herself a makeshift douche just as the restroom door swings open with her love interest getting an eyeful. The moments where Schumer has to emote are less convincing compared to the surprisingly natural range and thespian instincts the stand-up comedian impressively displayed in her breakout starring role in 2015’s “Trainwreck,” but she and her screen partner seem to bring out the best in one another. Making a delightful return to form as overly cautious mother Linda, Hawn is effervescent, as if no time has passed. Even if one wishes her individual comedic talents were tested more—she does get a good spit take after a “welcome” greeting that sounds like something else—Hawn is still such a bright screen presence that one misses the days when the perky comedy star was making movies more regularly. After all these years, she is still an adept comedian, never overplaying Linda or making her a caricature, and brings intelligence and wistfulness to a maternal character who’s never once treated as an annoying nag. Together, Emily and Linda will inevitably meet in the middle, the former learning a little responsibility and the latter venturing outside of her comfort zone. 

Beat for beat, Schumer and Hawn’s appealing chemistry is a match, and “Snatched” fires on all cylinders when it lets them be a duo. Although this is predominantly a two-person show, there is also no shortage of zany second bananas threatening to steal the attention off of its leads. Ike Barinholtz is endearingly oddball as Linda’s son who tries to help from home and shares a testy, increasingly amusing on-the-phone dynamic with a fed-up State Department agent (Bashir Salahuddin). Practically off in his own movie, Christopher Meloni is a hilariously weird hoot as an American adventurer who helps Emily and Linda and serves as their Indiana Jones wannabe guide, and his backstory holds some off-kilter surprises. Wanda Sykes scores nearly every line reading of hers as Ruth, who’s staying at the same resort as Emily and Linda, while Joan Cusack is inspiredly loopy without even saying a word as Barb, Ruth’s “platonic” ex-Special Ops friend who’s unexpectedly physically nimble and prepared when the situation calls for it. Of the ridiculously silly and situational variety of comedy, Emily has a “nip slip” and accidentally kills a few henchmen, but that doesn’t mean every gag hits the mark. There is a broad, bizarre non-sequitur sequence involving a tapeworm that aims to up the wackiness factor but almost seems to dip into a wild creature feature for a minute. Overall, “Snatched” has no delusions of grandeur or pretensions, amounting to an undeniably enjoyable high-concept jaunt and doing well within those parameters. And, as all comedies should be, it’s 91 minutes and smarter than it is not. It’s nothing more but definitely nothing less.

Grade: B - 

Friday, May 5, 2017

The A-Holes Strike Back: “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” a satisfying sequel with more heart added to the jokes

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)
136 min., rated PG-13.

Three summers ago, 2014’s “Guardians of the Galaxy” was a breath of delightfully fresh air for Marvel. With subversive, independent-minded genre filmmaker James Gunn calling the shots, it was a distinctly funky work of pop art abuzz with brio and energy from a cheeky, tongue-in-cheek tone; a tuneful mixtape of '70s pop-rock favorites that served as an integral component; and engaging, affectionately written fringe comic-book characters. As undeniably enjoyable as it was, a minor issue that kept the the sci-fi adventure comedy from completely breaking out was that it felt blithe and almost inconsequential after it was all over. Still infused with its predecessor’s goofy, irreverent spirit and shrewd brand of character-based wit that has yet to come off forced, “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” is a satisfying sequel in that the stakes feel slightly amplified and there’s a bit more heart and emotional weight added to the fun.

In media res of another mission, the Guardians—Peter Quill/Star-Lord (Chris Pratt), Gamora (Zoe Saldana), Drax (Dave Bautista), Rocket the raccoon (voice of Bradley Cooper) and tiny twig Baby Groot (voice of Vin Diesel)—are still making it work as a ragtag family. At the end of their mission of protecting the Sovereign planet’s interstellar batteries from a monster, they are able to leave with Gamora’s imprisoned sister Nebula (Karen Gillan) on board their Milano, but Rocket decides to leave with some of those batteries in his backpack. This leaves Sovereign’s gold-plated high priestess Ayesha (Elizabeth Debicki) out for their blood. As the Guardians are pursued by Sovereign’s remotely controlled pod ships and the renegades, led by ravager Yondu (Michael Rooker), they crashland on a planet, which turns out to be the home of Ego (Kurt Russell), Peter’s biological father, a “celestial” who fell in love with Peter’s human mother. While Rocket and Baby Groot stay behind to fix their ship and watch the handcuffed Nebula, Peter, Gamora, and Drax go off with Ego and his empathic assistant, Mantis (Pom Klementieff), only for Peter to learn what he has actually acquired from Dad, not to mention a lot of emotional baggage.

There is the impulse to accuse “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” for being just more of the same, and there might have been the pressure by returning writer-director James Gunn for the sequel to match the first film. Luckily, a great deal of the goodwill carries over, and Gunn keeps the banter flip and lively, but there had to be a few trade-offs. The diegetic use of the soundtrack as Meredith Quill’s “Awesome Mixtape #2” on Peter’s Walkman isn’t quite as inspired. The guardian gang gets split up for a while. For the better, Gunn has a different ambition this time and it’s to delve into familial bonds. With just as much of a family affair as “The Fate of the Furious,” this is the Guardians’ “The Empire Strikes Back.” Like its predecessor, the sequel is still more self-contained than other Marvel entries without the burden of being interconnected to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’s not interested in being a place-holder or connective tissue—save for one mention of the Infinity Stone and five, yes, five post-credits stingers that are more like cherries on top than a bridge for future films—and that’s still a refreshing draw for the “Guardians” movies. It works, first and foremost, as a comedy with a concentration on the group dynamic rather than action sequences, although Gunn and his production team never fail to bring a vibrant, psychedelic-colored visual style to every frame. 

Forming a bickering but ultimately loving familial unit, the ensemble cast returns for their return engagement without skipping a beat. Chris Pratt and Zoe Saldana are on their individual games as the wisecracking Peter and the more practical Gamora. Both are given even more meat to work with between their testy, albeit lovely, Sam-and-Diane interaction and their hang-ups with their own blood relatives. Dave Bautista, as dim-bulb Drax, is once again a surprising secret weapon; not only is his hearty cackle infectious every time, his line deliveries spot-on, and his inability to not take everything so literally made into an endearing quirk, but Bautista brings a certain warmth to this bruiser. It’s still a marvel that Bradley Cooper is the voice behind a raccoon with an attitude, but he brings even more rascally swagger as Rocket, who in turn gets taken for other species not his own. Again miraculously voiced by the deep-voiced Vin Diesel, Baby Groot is adorably funny, whether he’s bringing the wrong object to help Yondu and Rocket escape a prison cell or running through a cavern with a detonator. Cued to ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky,” the film opens on an irresistible high note, Baby Groot boogying on down to the stereo tune in the foreground as his friends battle a tentacled space squid in the background; the attention isn’t really on the action but on a cute-as-a-button twig whom we hope doesn’t get squashed. As the blue-skinned Yondu who used to be a father figure to Peter, Michael Rooker is terrific and gets a layered arc this time.

New to this world, Pom Klementieff is a sweet, quirky delight as the socially inept Mantis and shares a winning rapport with Drax, and the inherently likable Kurt Russell is a perfect choice for Peter Quill’s long-lost father Ego, exuding just the right roguish vibe, and his 1980-set prologue shows another step up in the nearly seamless magic of CGI de-aging. Though there is a more central villain waiting in the wings, Elizabeth Debicki is mesmerizing to watch, purring with menace and looking smooth as silk playing the regally golden Ayesha.

Loosey-goosey and meandering from a narrative perspective, “Vol. 2” initially lacks focus but not incident. Bordering on too-muchness, the film eventually finds a thematic cohesion with all of the space-opera plot strands—Peter and Gamora have an “unspoken thing” between them; Gamora and emotionally hard sister Nebula have daddy issues and continue their sibling rivalry; and the wrongfully accused Yondu wants to make things right—and each payoff feels earned and not strained. Looking Glass’ “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” is also purposefully used as a through-line to bring together Peter and Ego. At the cost of narrative drive, the viewer is treated to shout-outs to “Cheers,” “Mary Poppins,” Pac-Man, and David Hasselhoff all in the same movie. There are also some crowd-pleasing gags, like Rocket booby-trapping trespassers and Peter asking the rest of his team, “Do you have any tape?” in the heat of battle. James Gunn and his entire ensemble take the material seriously enough for the viewer to be fully invested in what happens to them but still let their jokey side fly. Joyful, free-wheeling, breezy and surprisingly touching, “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” thrives as a quality blockbuster for the early-summer season.