Reviews: Skyfall

           The James Bond series was brilliantly re-invented in 2006 by the spectacular Casino Royale, one of the finest of the new tradition of thoughtful, comparatively restrained action films (for other examples see Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight trilogy). Unfortunately, having jettisoned much of the traditional ‘trappings’ of Bond, the series didn’t quite feel like itself after that superlative first step.

            Skyfall seems to be an attempt to address that fact; to form a bridge between the gritty realism of Casino Royale and the more traditional Bond elements: Q, Moneypenny, the brilliantly innovative gadgets, and the spectacular villain lairs with hungry pets ready to dine on enemy agents or errant henchmen.

            Not that Skyfall itself is as lighthearted as the older films. On the contrary, this may be the grimmest and most downbeat film to date (even including the tragic Casino). The movie deals with dark questions about Bond’s motives, the changing nature of the spy trade, and, especially, his relationship with his superior, M (Judi Dench) and the mistakes she’s made.

            We open with an epically out-sized chase in Istanbul (which moves from cars to motorcycles to train to steam-shovel), one so gloriously silly and improbable that it feels almost like we’re back in the old Bond universe…until the jarring sucker-punch that brings the chase to an abrupt halt and sets the stage for the rest of the film.

            See, James Bond (Daniel Craig, still imposing despite his advancing age) was attempting to stop a terrorist from getting away with a hard-drive containing the names of all of NATO’s undercover operatives working in terrorist cells. And, thanks to a call made by M, he fails and winds up declared dead.

            So, Bond settles down to a life of one-night stands, heavy drinking, and playing with dangerous wild animals (so, pretty much exactly what he was doing, only he’s not getting paid for it). Meanwhile, MI6 does its best for the next six months to recover the hard-drive with no success. Then M’s computer is hacked, MI6 is bombed, and the realization sinks in that this is more than just about counter-espionage: someone is specifically targeting M.

            Bond, upon hearing of this, comes back from the dead to offer his services. After a quick series of tests to ensure he’s fit for active duty, some brief head-butting with Intelligence Chairman Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes), and a quick meeting with the new Q (Ben Whishaw, about as starkly and amusingly different from Desmond Llewelyn as possible), Bond sets off for Shanghai to chase down the terrorist (Ola Rapace) who stole the hard-drive.

            At this point the film becomes more complex and detail-heavy than I could adequately describe without major spoilers. Suffice to say, Bond is soon drawn into a deadly battle of wits with a psychotic ex-agent named Silva (chilling Javier Bardem), which includes massive acts of cyber-terrorism, cat-and-mouse games in the London underground, and, finally, an epic showdown at a place we never expected to be…

            Meanwhile, Bond rather half-heartedly juggles two different beauties: Eve (Naomie Harris), a fellow MI6 agent who’s thinking about giving up fieldwork and Severine (Berenic Marlohe), who is something of a darkly revisionist take on the femme-fatale and whose character, alas, is one of the film’s few flaws (more on that below). I say half-hearted because, while both of these women have important roles to play in the story, and Eve in particular is enjoyable to have around, neither really feels necessary to it. It’s almost like the writers only put them in because they knew a Bond film needs Bond-girls rather than that they actually wanted to have any.

            The focus of the movie is instead directed at the central ‘triangle’ of Bond, M, and Silva. The dynamic of these three is a kind of grim family feud with Bond and Silva playing the parts of the disenfranchised siblings and M their estranged mother. Both of them have reasons to feel betrayed by her, but Bond retains his loyalty while Silva’s has turned to bitterness and hatred, though even he can’t quite ignore the connection between them.

            Bond’s relationship with M is the heart of the movie; a complex, probably not very healthy, but ultimately moving bond in which M becomes something of a surrogate mother to Bond (agents refer to her informally as ‘mum’ throughout); a situation that is complicated by the fact that both Bond and M are well aware that her first loyalty is not to any of her “children” but to the broader mission (this follows through on the moment in Casino Royale where she chided Bond for not looking at “the big picture”). Nevertheless she does care about the agents to some extent, particularly Bond, and she trusts their instincts and skills more than she does the computerized gadgets and software of the new Q Branch. The cold, ambiguous, yet nevertheless real affection between Bond and M comprises some of the best writing and acting of the series to date. 

            Javier Bardem, meanwhile, makes for easily the best Bond villain of the new series and probably one of the best of all time. He’s a weird kind of cross between a frat-boy hacker and a character from a Thomas Harris novel. Fiendishly intelligent, disarmingly unpredictable, and with skills and instincts to match Bond himself, Silva is the kind of villain who makes you frustrated at the heroes for not realizing that he’s always going to be two-steps ahead of them. At the same time he gives the distinct impression of mental derangement for all his brilliance (it’s implied his mind was affected by a failed cyanide pill), such as the way he greets Bond with homoerotic advances when they first meet and seems oddly annoyed when Bond isn’t unsettled by them.

            As the movie progresses, it becomes more and more focused on the twisted family triangle of Bond, M, and Silva as rules and expectations break down and the fight becomes increasingly personal for all involved, culminating in a spectacular showdown in a place we never expected to see…

            One of the key trappings of any Bond film is, of course, the locations, and here we have some of the most spectacular of the new series. There’s the opening chase through Istanbul, with Haggia Sophia and the Grand Bazaar providing the backdrop. There’s a stunningly filmed sequence in the skyscrapers of Shanghai, lit by ever changing neon lights. There’s an incredibly tense chase through the London underground (emphasizing an earlier speech in which Silva likened himself and Bond to rats). Finally, in stark contrast to everything else is an ancient manor house on a misty moor in Scotland.

The cinematography in these sequences, particularly the Shanghai scene, is simply breathtaking, making full use of light and shadow to produce weird, dream-like effects that remain etched into the viewers mind. The Scottish sequence likewise has some breathtaking images, such as a flare shooting through the water of an ice-covered pond, or a gun-wielding figure standing silhouetted against a raging fire, his breath coming like smoke.

Thematically, the movie deals with the contrast of old and new; the old-fashioned techniques championed by Bond and M (instinct, manual involvement, detective work) are contrasted with the cutting-edge technology employed by Silva (who uses his hacking skills to control his environment to an almost god-like extent). The film incorporates this conflict into its very structure; with the story beginning in Istanbul (a key battleground in the Cold War), before jumping into the ultra-modern world of Shanghai. From there, it slowly and steadily strips away the technological trappings, going from there to a deserted island where Silva’s computers stand naked with all their inner workings exposed, then back to London and the hyper-computerized Q-Division, before finally stripping all technology away in Scotland. Moreover, to transport M, Bond chooses to ditch his modern car in favor of none-other than the classic Aston-Martin DB5 from Goldfinger, complete with ejector seat and machine-guns (in a moment that Bond fans have been waiting almost fifty years to see, those famous machine guns are finally put to good use).

The movie ultimately champions the old over the new, positing that Bond and M’s ways are more necessary than ever in the ever-changing modern world (M gets a speech in which she makes that very point), and further positing that high-technology can be a danger even to those who seem to understand it, while the simpler, old-fashioned ways are more reliable and, ultimately, more effective (particularly in a moment where Bond, confronted with a high-tech helicopter, decides on a startlingly direct method of dealing with it).

Intriguingly, in light of this championing of the old ways, the movie reveals that Bond’s family were recusant Catholics who hid priests during the Reformation. Likewise, the final confrontation between representatives of the old and new takes place in, of all places, a Catholic chapel. I don’t want to read too much into this, but it certainly is an gratifying and intriguing choice on the part of the filmmakers, shedding new light on the story and its themes.

Beyond these lofty themes, the film still has a lot to offer. There’s the gratifying return of Q in the slick, modern guise of a young computer wiz who, in one sequence, tag-teams with Bond to give him an edge on Silva. His meeting with 007 provides one of the most entertaining scenes in the film, simultaneously giving fans of the series a satisfying sense of a return to form and heralding the dawn of a new era of Q-Branch (“What were you expecting; an exploding pen? We don’t do that anymore.”)

 Ralph Fiennes as Mallory strikes an interesting note: mildly antagonistic, yet still sympathetic and with a number of surprises up his sleeve (including a last minute twist that brilliantly sets the stage for the series’ future). Naomi Harris as Eve doesn’t have a lot to do, but is an attractive and spunky Bond girl and helps provide some much-needed levity. I also would be remise if I didn’t mention the haunting opening song by Adele, which is both a beautiful number in its own right and is accompanied by some remarkably poetic imagery (which recurs in unexpected ways in the movie itself).

Meanwhile the action sequences are some of the most spectacular to date. The Istanbul sequence is gloriously outsized and silly, with conceits that hearken back to Roger Moore’s heyday. There’s a fight in a Macau casino that culminates in someone getting fed to a ravenous beast, the aforementioned chase through London (featuring a spectacular train crash, among other things), and, again, the climactic siege pitting ingenuity and resourcefulness against high-tech weaponry (I was reminded more than once of the great ranch-house attack from For Greater Glory). While I still would call the Parkour chase from Casino Royale the best action sequence of the new series, any one of these scenes from Skyfall could be called a close second (personally, I would cite the climactic siege as taking home the top prize, but I admit it’s hard battle).

While I thought Skyfall was one of the best Bond films to date, I did have a couple reservations. First, Bond twice stands back and lets innocent people die when he could have saved them. I don’t mean he could have taken a great risk, or made a desperate lunge that may or may not have worked; I mean he literally stands back and waits to make his move until after the murder takes place. I know Bond has always been an anti-hero (and never more so than with Daniel Craig), but to me this crosses the line from ‘cold’ to ‘depraved indifference’ and makes it harder to root for him. It definitely lessened my enjoyment of the film, and I think it was unnecessary.

On a similar note, the character of Severine is problematic. Her back story (she’s a victim of human trafficking) was too genuinely nasty, and her victimization was too total to simply show up and be discarded like that. It felt like an ugly scar on the film; a brief moment of extra cruelty that briefly took you out of the experience and left a bad taste in your mouth. In particular, Bond’s relationship with her was, well, meaner than a typical Bond hook-up. It felt too much like Bond was simply using her in the same way that Silva did. Basically, the subplot involving her was far too cruel and distasteful for a Bond film, even one of the new series.

Those are really my only two caveats about the film. There are a few minor points, such as a cliché and completely predictable twist towards the end of the second act, or the fact that it occasionally felt like it was running on for too long (you kept expecting each sequence to be the climax, then it would suddenly shift gears and start anew).

But the film’s strengths; the fascinating theme of old vs. new, Javier Bardem’s disturbingly effective performance, the spectacular action, the gorgeous cinematography, and the sensation of coming full circle, back to the classic Bond series that we’ve been away from for so long make it a must-see. It left me excited and impatient to see where the series would go next. The origin story that began with Casino Royale is now complete; Bond is back and better than ever.

Final Rating: 4.5/5. While slightly marred by unnecessary nastiness, it is still one of the best Bond films of all time.

Reviews: Wreck-It Ralph

 

           Sometimes an idea comes along that is so obvious and yet so brilliant that you can only bow and take your hat off to whoever came up with it. I can therefore only hope that whoever had the idea “what if we did something like Toy Story with video game characters?” is currently enjoying a nice fizzy drink on a private island somewhere.

            Really, the premise alone might have been enough to carry Wreck-It Ralph, at least for game-fans: the video-game characters of an arcade have lives outside their games and can visit each other’s games after hours. They arrive at the ‘Game Central Station’ (a power-strip), where their checked-over by a surge protector and the graffiti on the walls says things like “Aerith lives.” If the movie was nothing but video-game characters hanging out and getting drinks at Tapper, it still probably would’ve been worth seeing.

            But there is a plot, and a good one at that: Wreck-It Ralph (John C. Reilly) is the villain of a classic 80s-era arcade game called Fix-It Felix Jr. Every day he dutifully wrecks the apartment building that the egg-shaped Nicelanders inhabit, allowing the hero, Fix-It Felix (Jack McBayer) to fix it and, eventually, vanquish Ralph by throwing him off the roof.

            After 30 years of this, Ralph is bored and depressed. Every day he has to watch as Felix gets all the glory, the pies, and the medals all for defeating him, Ralph, who never gets any praise or appreciation or pies. “It sure must be nice being the good guy,” he sighs to the ‘Bad-Annon’ support group for villains.

            Ralph’s jealously and depression comes to a head at the game’s 30^th Anniversary Party, which he isn’t invited to. He talks Felix into letting him in, but soon loses his temper at the Nicelanders and storms out. Drowning his sorrows at Tapper (the bartending game), he runs into a soldier from the arcade’s new first-person shooter, Hero’s Duty. Seeing this as his chance to play the good-guy for once, he steals the guy’s armor and sneaks into the other game, which is headed by the formidable Sgt. Calhoun (Jane Lynch).

            Through a series of unexpected events, Ralph ends up more-or-less stuck in a candy-themed racing game called Sugar Rush, where he eventually befriends a ‘glitch’ (a character who was never fully integrated into the game) named Vanellope von Schweetz (Sarah Silverman), whom he reluctantly ends up helping to become a playable character.

            Meanwhile, with Ralph a no-show, Fix-It Felix Jr. has been marked ‘out-of-order’ and scheduled to be unplugged. In response, Felix teams up with Calhoun (who thinks Ralph may have unleashed a dangerous game-play element from Hero’s Duty into the arcade at large) to try to find Ralph and bring him home.

            The first thing that becomes clear about this movie is that the makers loved video games. There are so many little details, so many clever conceits that trying to list them all would easily outweigh the film’s actual script. Consider the “Bad-Annon” meeting: every single character, apart from Ralph, is from an actual game: there’s Bowser, Dr. Robotnik (from the Sonic games), Zangief and M. Bison (from Street Fighter), Kano and Smoke (from Mortal-Kombat: Kano even performs his famous ‘finisher’ move on one of the other characters!), a Zombie from Hosue of the Dead, a bunch of others I didn't recognize (though I'm sure Wikipedia will be able to identify them soon), and the whole meeting is overseen by Clyde, the orange ghost from Pac-Man (indeed, the whole meeting turns out to be set in a Pac-Man map). Later Sonic and Pac-Man have cameos, as do Frogger, Dig-Dug, the aforementioned Tapper, and Q-Bert (who, together with his supporting cast, is out-of-work due to his game being unplugged: Ralph kind-heartedly gives them a cherry “fresh from Pac-Man”).

            Beyond cameos, though, there are also brilliant conceits such as the different ways the film incorporates the game-screen. In Ralph’s game, it hangs in the sky like an enormous sun. In Hero’s Duty, it’s attached to a small robot equipped with a rifle (which turns out to have a personality of its own). I also love the creativity that went into the world of Sugar Rush, which is like something from Willy Wonka’s subconscious: towering candy-cane forests, chocolate rivers, a volcano made out of coke and menthols, and hundreds upon hundreds of sugary subjects ruled over by King Candy (Alan Tudyk).

            But though the visuals are often striking and the video game world spot-on, it’s the story and the characters that make this film what it is. In particular, the relationship between Ralph and Vanellope serves as the emotional heart of the movie. The way these two misfits come to trust and rely on each other is both touching and believable, with many heartwarming (and heartbreaking) moments along the way. It’s these two that give the movie its soul.

            Ralph and Vanellope are the most important relationship, but they’re not the only one. There’s also Ralph’s sweet friendship/brotherhood with Felix, his heroic counterpart and pretty much the only character from his own game to treat him with any kind of decency. Felix in general is a delightful character: so sweet and innocent, and yet so earnest and, yes, heroic that you just can’t help loving the little guy.

            Felix and Calhoun also develop a charmingly unexpected relationship, where the unassumingly genuine old-school hero disarms the tough, cynical FPS heroine. They don’t have as many scenes together as I might like, but their relationship is delightful and ultimately pays off in a big way. 

            The writing is sharp, witty, and intelligent. Video game jokes abound, of course (When the surge protector asks Ralph’s name, he sarcastically answers “Lara Croft”), but there are also some clever references to classic film and even a few satirical jabs at things like customs inspectors and 12-stepping groups. And I must admit, the film surprised me a few times. There were a few twists and turns that I genuinely did not see coming. In particular, a major plot point is set up mid-way through, but is integrated so well that when it pays off it’s genuinely surprising (all the more so because the way it’s established implies that what ultimately happens couldn’t happen). On the other hand, a climactic gambit is telegraphed pretty early on, though the way it plays out is unexpected and satisfying.

            The cast is absolutely spot-on: John C. Reilly projects the perfect blend of weariness, self-pity, and good-heartedness as Ralph. His deep, loud voice is equally adept at being villainous and heroic, making him ideal for the villain-hero. Sarah Silverman brings all her trademark energy and craziness to Vanellope, but also does great in the more emotional scenes (her emotionally-charged scenes are often truly heartbreaking and probably the best acting in the film). Jack McBrayer, of course, can do the wide-eyed innocent better than anyone, and Jane Lynch has one of toughest female voices in modern Hollywood, and I enjoyed the nuance with which they played their respective characters.

I was a little worried at first that Alan Tudyk’s King Candy might turn out to be simply a camp stereotype, but all such fears were soon dismissed as I got swept up in his exuberant, scene-stealing performance (he’s like a cross between Cesar Romero’s Joker, Roald Dahl’s Willy Wonka, and…I don’t know, a sugar-addicted schizophrenic or something). I also have to give shout outs to Kevin Deters as the very gentle and patient Clyde and director Rich Moore as the diminutive, aptly-named Sour Bill: King Candy’s joyless, monotone minion.

The animation is simply gorgeous. There’s the worlds of Fix-It Felix Jr. and other games: perfectly rendered in 8-bit from the outside, smoother but still cartoonish on the inside. There’s the dark, gritty FPS world of Hero’s Duty, the huge, brightly-lit Game-Central Station with its hundreds and hundreds of characters milling around (including dozens of real game characters). And, most of all, the candy-coated Sugar Rush with its perfectly rendered sugar, chocolate, and incredible attention to detail (look closely at Vanellope’s hoodie: the strings are made of liquorish).  

            One thing I was surprised at was that this movie tackles some very interesting and comparatively rare themes: things like the need for adversity and sacrifice on the path to being a hero, the ill-advisedness of trying to take short-cuts (appropriately for a film about games, the movie posits dire consequences for people who try to ‘cheat’), or even the need to sometimes humbly accept unpleasant circumstances and the dangers of trying to force our way out of them. I can’t really adequately explore the film’s take on these issues without spoilers (I might do so in a later post, once I’ve had the chance to see it again), but suffice to say that Ralph’s attempts to snatch at the results of something without the necessary effort comes back to bite him hard, and that both Ralph and another character court disaster by their inability to accept their circumstances.

            There is also the rather tired theme of ‘don’t bully people who are different’ (I am getting really sick of the ‘outcast-bullied-by-narrow-minded-locals’ scenario), though it’s tempered by the fact that Ralph’s reaction to his mistreatment ends up being much worse for everyone than the mistreatment itself, as well as the implication that it was, at least partially, due more to a lack of awareness than out-right cruelty or snobbishness (likewise, the treatment that Vanellope suffers turns out to have something far more twisted than mere snobbery behind it…).

            Then there’re the sly commentaries on the nature of the gaming world, with things like Q-Bert being out of work, the tragedy of unfinished characters and levels (as well as the pride players have in discovering them), the way unplanned elements often spark unexpected reactions from the audience, and, of course, the changing nature of the game world itself with slick, graphically-powerful First-Person Shooters superseding the more light-hearted, simplistic platformers (like Q-Bert). The nature of the threat Ralph inadvertently unleashes serves as a rather wry (and alarming) symbol of the way shooters have effectively taken over the gaming world, overwhelming the more innocent games and all-too-often giving the medium a dark, monotonous feeling.

            Of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with FPS’s, and the film doesn’t pretend it (Calhoun is one of the main heroes), but there’s definitely an expressed preference and fondness for the more old-school, good-hearted games embodied by Ralph and Felix. At the very least, the filmmakers seem to be making a plea for more balance and appreciation for the classic games.

            Video games are often a controversial subject. Those who don’t play them, or who play them casually tend to dismiss them as time-wasters; pointless exercises that kill the imagination and ruin health. Gamers, however, know that they can just as easily be lovable, moving, and soul-filled pieces of entertainment – and yes, even art. The medium is in its infancy, and can indeed by misused or abused into a kind of drug, but when you find the good ones, when you use them correctly, they can be windows into marvelous worlds with beautiful stories and beloved characters. Certain games, like certain books or certain films, seem to have ‘souls:’ gamers find themselves drawn to specific games and characters, whom they come to love and appreciate for their own sake; characters like Mario or Sonic aren’t beloved just because their games are good (Sonic hasn’t had a good game in years): they resonate with people beyond the question of game-play. Wreck-It Ralph is, in some ways, an attempt to demonstrate or celebrate this love and this ‘soulful quality’ that players find in certain games. For those who can’t see the appeal of video games, this movie provides a window into why people love them.  

             While I think this is one of the best films of the year, it is not without its flaws. In particular, the very problem that incites the plot, Ralph’s relationship with the Nicelanders, never gets a satisfactory payoff. There’s an allusion to a rapprochement and understanding, but there’s never a moment where either Ralph or the Nicelanders actually make amends or ask forgiveness for their actions.

            Another issue for me was the fact that, having built this incredible universe of multiple worlds and inventive conceits the film more-or-less confines itself to Sugar Rush for at least half its screen-time. I don’t begrudge the time we spent there, and it could be argued that the movie might otherwise have degenerated into a mere series of references and in-jokes, but it still a little disappointing.

            On the other hand, the movie never loses sight of the fact that these are video-game characters, and it keeps throwing clever game ‘tropes’ at us right up until the end (where, yes, we do get what is basically a classic ‘boss battle’).

            I went into Wreck-It Ralph with high expectations, and I’m pleased to say it pretty much met all of them. It’s hilarious, heartfelt, witty, intelligent, and the most fun I’ve had at the movies since at least The Avengers. Here was a world I was genuinely sorry to leave, characters I wanted to see again...in short, it is one of those rare films that left me wanting more. One of the best movies of the year.

Final Rating: 4.5/5. For video game fans, a must see. For everyone else, its humor, heart, and gorgeous animation make it highly recommended.