Director: J.J. Abrams
Runtime: 135 minutes
Everyone who cares even a little about Star Wars has their own set of expectations for the next wave of films. Films 1 - 6 (technically 4-6/1-3) spawned such a vast empire of media that story options for a new trilogy seem endless. And yet, by reaching back to what made audiences flip out for A New Hope in 1977, director J.J. Abrams has taken on a herculean task and somehow delivered. The Force Awakens, despite years of expectations and millions and millions of dollars powering it, carries the same scrappy spirit of George Lucas' first journey to a galaxy far, far away. The final product, regardless of whether or not you were caught up in the hyper machine, has its flaws, mostly when it comes to balancing the old and the new. And unlike the much-maligned prequels (galactic senate meetings, midichlorians, the shadow of Jar Jar Binks), The Force Awakens is a legitimate fresh start for the series, with a speedy plot that takes audiences from planet to planet and starship to starship. Even with nods and winks to the audience, this is, finally, the 21st century Star Wars movie we both wanted and needed.
Abrams, Disney, and Lucasfilm have tried to keep as much of The Force Awakens under wraps, and even though the movie is out now, I'll do my best to refrain from spoilers. Even so, in terms of structure, there isn't much to spoil. For better and for worse, Abrams and co-writer Michael Arndt have stuck with Lucas' concept of having the trilogies "mirror" each other in terms of plot developments and character arcs.
This concept has ups and downs, but it mostly works as a pleasing middle ground compromise. Despite the PG-13 rating, The Force Awakens doesn't try to get away with as much as it can (versus, say, The Dark Knight), as it's trying to bring in old fans and stir the imaginations of new ones who might not even be 10 yet. Diehards looking for the franchise to leap forwards and mature (in the way the Harry Potter books and then films did) might be left wanting. When making a movie that's designed to please as many people as possible while also playing to a core fanbase, it's hard to come up with something that checks off every box.
The sense of compromise (pandering seems a bit too harsh/negative) that permeates The Force Awakens might seem like a red flag, but it's far from a dealbreaker. When it comes to the "mirroring" aspect, the film's hit-to-miss ratio winds up being rather good. This is especially true of the first hour or so, which is almost entirely filled with the next generation of heroes and villains. Among the good eggs are desert scavenger Rey (the instantly-winning Daisy Ridley), AWOL stormtrooper Finn (John Boyega, a charming and bumbling accidental do-gooder), and ace pilot Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac, cutting loose and having fun with limited material). If ever there was a sign that this Star Wars was a creation of modern times, it's the much needed diversity found among this key trio.
Yet where there is light, there is also darkness. The Sith and the Empire may be extinct, but that hasn't stopped a new wave of devotees from arising. Most compelling is the masked and hooded Kylo Ren (Adam Driver...yes the guy from Girls), a temperamental student of the Dark Side with a Darth Vader complex. He is the film's own mirror for Rey, a mysterious loner drawn to the supernatural gifts of the Force, and his desire to hide his past is one of The Force Awakens' most compelling angles.
And with so much going on in The Force Awakens (starting anew while also tying into the original films), the actors deserve immense praise for being so charismatic in their roles. The film hops and skips around so much, and the characters could have gotten lost in the shuffle. Yet even when Abrams pushes his young leads to go a little too broad (we get it, they're in over their heads/wide eyed with amazement), the actors still deliver. Ridley and Boyega are a great deal of fun as a pair of loners forced together by chance (or maybe fate...), and Isaac's swagger further grounds the film in a tone more in line with the adventure serials that originally inspired Star Wars. Driver is a hoot as well, especially as his mood and presence adjusts when he removes his helmet.
So much of what's new is so invigorating that the arrival of characters from the first films throws off The Force Awakens' balance. As pure nostalgia it's bliss to see Harrison Ford back as Han Solo. But as Solo becomes integral to the plot, The Force Awakens starts sliding a little too far backwards. The new torchbearers of the franchise slip into the backseat for a while, leaving the midsection a bit rudderless. Seeing Han and Leia together is great on its own, but it's hard not to think that such scenes might have been better spent developing Rey, Finn, etc...
Despite this issue, Abrams brings it all home in the final stretch, even though the conclusion boasts the most overtly derivative moments from a structural standpoint. It takes a while to get there, but Abrams and Arndt do thankfully get around to resetting the chess board for future installments. Like any good adventure saga, The Force Awakens wraps up enough to function as a self-contained story, yet also ends in a way that begs for another chapter. In these final stages, Abrams restores the earnestness and charm of the series while also boldly positioning it for bigger and better things. And, at the very least, Abrams managed to combine a 'hello' to the next generation with a proper 'goodbye' to the old. It's hard to ask for more than that.
Grade: B
Director: Matt Reeves
Runtime: 130 Minutes
The bar set by 2011's Rise of the Planet of the Apes wasn't terribly high. Despite a few standout sequences (and one jaw-dropping moment), Rise suffered from lackluster human characters that dragged down the more compelling ape-oriented scenes. So to say that Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a superior sequel isn't a guarantee of greatness. But Dawn isn't just any other sequel. Though the humans still pale in comparison to the apes this time around, Dawn bests its predecessor in every conceivable way. This is a smart, full-bodied sequel that delivers its blockbuster moments only once they've been earned by the plot.
Set roughly a decade after Rise, Dawn finds the advanced apes, led by Caesar (Andy Serkis), making a life for themselves up in the Muir Woods. When we first see Caesar and company, it's been two years since they've had any contact with humans. At one point, Caesar and others ponder if there are even any humans left in the overrun remains of San Francisco. Yet, soon enough, a band of humans stumbles along into ape territory, threatening to reignite man/ape conflicts.
These humans are led by Malcolm (Zero Dark Thirty's Jason Clarke), who is on a mission to restart a dormant dam in ape territory that could give some power back to the human colony hiding in San Francisco. After a rocky start, humans and apes form a temporary alliance of sorts to assist Malcolm and his team with their plan. Of course, not everyone is happy about this cross species effort. Among the apes, the fearsome Koba (Toby Kebbell) feels that Caesar is too trusting of humans. Meanwhile, human leader Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) is more than ready to simply gun the apes down if it means getting to the dam faster.
Both sides have peaceful and bloodthirsty factions. Yet rather than simplify motivations, Dawn gives its various points of view some airing time before eventually picking a side. Dreyfus is still haunted by the loss of his wife and children after the outbreak of the Simian Flu (a man-made virus that got to the public at the end of Rise). Koba, meanwhile, is wary of humans after years of painful experiments performed in secret laboratories.
In giving the humans and the apes diverse angles, Dawn achieves a bit of nuance not often found in big budget summer fare. However, that's hardly surprising when one considers the franchise's history. The original Planet of the Apes was rife with socio-political allegory, and this latest installment is more than up to the task of continuing the tradition.
Director Matt Reeves, who rose to fame with the found footage sci-fi/disaster flick Cloverfield, deserves quite a bit of credit for the success here. Moving effortlessly from gimmicky techniques to more classical blockbuster filmmaking, the director brings a much more assured hand to this bigger, richer sequel. Reeves understands how to shoot even the mundane visual effects shots so as to maximize impact. And when it comes to the action, he proves himself more than up to the task of capturing the carnage with clarity. Without even making a huge deal of it, Reeves throws in a superb tracking shot that follows Malcolm running through a series of hallways as machine gun-toting apes tear through the surrounding rooms.
And even though the human characters remain secondary to the apes, Dawn represents an obvious step in the right direction. Clarke, Keri Russell, and Kodi Smit-McPhee have the most screen time, with each getting at least one significant moment that strengths some aspect of the human/ape dynamic.
The star, however, is still Mr. Serkis. Though Caesar has no singular 'wow' moment like he did in Rise, Serkis' motion-capture work is as commanding as ever. The truly astounding visual effects work beautifully gives detail to the physically demanding ape performances. Toby Kebbell is quite terrifying as the human-hating Koba, and Karin Konoval provides a lovely simian supporting turn as a wise orangutan with a penchant for reading.
The film's success on an emotional and visual front is so impressive that it mostly overshadows the occasional flaws in the script. Some of the human dialogue can be a bit stiff, and a few plot developments happen a bit too suddenly, yet overall Reeves' command of the story holds the entire thing together quite brilliantly. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is an ideal summer sequel. It's story is bigger and its stakes are higher, yet it also registers more deeply on an emotional level due to the care taken with the plot and (most of) the characters.
Grade: B+
Director: Peter Jackson
Runtime: 169 minutes
The source material for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey may not have the darkness, depth, or length of Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy, but that certainly hasn't stopped Peter Jackson from trying to repeat the same success from a decade ago. An Unexpected Journey marks the first of three (originally two) films based on Tolkien's lighter, slimmer novel. Is the three film to one book ratio a cash driven gambit? Most likely. It allows Jackson and company to flesh out and explore more of Tolkien's world and characters, to be sure, but at what cost to the storytelling quality? Yet ultimately, though this first installment never reaches the heights of Jackson's last journey into Middle Earth, An Unexpected Journey, warts and all, stands as proof that there's no one better suited to take audiences through Tolkien's universe.
Though decidedly lighter in tone, the film still possesses the trademark Tolkinean grandeur. This is best evidenced in a flashback/prologue sequence detailing the history of the great Dwarven stronghold of Erebor, and how it fell after an attack by the vicious dragon Smaug (to be voiced by Sherlock star Benedict Cumberbatch in the rest of the trilogy). With the dwarves scattered, some find leadership in the grandson of the deposed king, Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage). Time passes, and eventually a small band of Dwarves under Thorin's command decide that the time is right to try and reclaim Erebor from Smaug, who has remained dormant. With the help of their ally Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellan, as effortlessly compelling always), they find their way to the home of Bilbo Baggins (played by the other Sherlock star, Martin Freeman).
Initially upset by the bawdy Dwarvish ensemble mucking about in his kitchen, Bilbo eventually succumbs to the promise for an adventure, one that Gandalf promises will leave him forever changed (if he survives, that is). And once Jackson finally gets Bilbo on his way and the fellowship of the Dwarves begin their long (long, long) trek to The Lonely Mountain, An Unexpected Journey finally develops a sense of purpose. The opening stretches of the film are - Dwarven backstory aside - the weakest, as the reinforce the idea that this three film enterprise is nothing but shameless indulgence. Rather than simply settle in to the fall of Erebor, Jackson inserts a completely unnecessary framing device involving the old Bilbo (Ian Holm) writing down his tale, which is little more than an excuse for an Elijah Wood cameo.
The opening also introduces us to one of the film's other shortcomings, albeit on the technical front. This is Tolkien in the age of digital cameras, and even without seeing the film in 48 frames per second, there were times when the difference was palpable. Most jarring are some of the visual effects. Gone, for the most part, is the use of miniatures and models to create epic cities and structures. Complete CGI is often king here, and coupled with the digital camera technology it can produce some displeasing aesthetic effects. Most notable is in the the Fall of Erebor, where the entire flashback sequence possesses a strange, faded glow, as if someone smeared a jumbo-sized jar of Vaseline on the camera lens. Elsewhere, the blend of sets and CGI backdrops is often too saturated and smooth to register with the same artistic majesty that so bolstered the Rings trilogy.
Despite the occasionally distracting aesthetics, An Unexpected Journey does, thankfully, improve as it goes along. Not all of its side ventures (some of which are designed to create tie-ins to Rings) are as compelling as others. The bits involving Radagast the Brown and his sled pulled by Olympic-speed rabbits, for example, feel too cartoon-y and broad. Yet, on the other hand, when Jackson rekindles that old magic from 10 years ago, it connects. A flashback involving a failed Dwarven siege of the Mines of Moria is well-handled, and establishes Armitage's Thorin as a compelling equivalent of Viggo Mortensen's Aragorn. Later set pieces also come through, including a sequence where the troupe finds itself riding on the ridges of several gargantuan stone giants in the midst of a battle.
Yet the film's shining moment comes without the slightest bit of violence or spectacle. Bilbo, separated from Gandalf and the Dwarves, stumbles upon a tiny golden ring, as well as its deranged owner, Smeagol/Gollum (Andy Serkis). Serkis is as good in the role as he's ever been, manic mood swings and all, and his game of riddles with Bilbo is the film's high point. Coupled with the big action sequence/chase and the surprisingly chill-inducing final confrontation involving Thorin and an Orc lord, and you have a film that truly reaches its purpose in its last third or so.
Even when the film falters, however, Jackson's grasp of the world remains strong, and his performers are plenty engaging, even if some of the Dwarven band blend together. Freeman makes a wonderful Bilbo, the odd man out among a group of people with a goal more personal than he can ever know. Returning cast members McKellan, Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving, and Christopher Lee are nail their material, as limited as some of it is. Yet it is Armitage who emerges as the most compelling figure of the bunch. Unlike Aragorn, who was almost dragged into fulfilling his role as king of Gondor, Thorin starts the story with a purpose, one tied to both duty and pride. Jackson's indulgences with flashbacks may throw some off, but those concerning Thorin do at least give a concrete sense of what this protracted journey means to him.
When all is said and done, it might be difficult to fully judge An Unexpected Journey until parts two and three (Dec. 2013 and July 2014, respectively) arrive, and we can step back and view Jackson's entire treatment. Until then, we're left with this first slice of a story that, for better and for worse, has been inflated in an attempt to match the glory that the director and his collaborators achieved a decade ago. For the sake of audiences everywhere, I wish them the best of luck.
Grade: B-
