High school is a time that someone would either jump at the chance to live through once again or place aside without further contemplation. It's a society filled with boundless opportunities that will help shape the person you will become. It's a four-year period of living in the moment and embracing your youth. But every high school class has its own defining differences, and those distinctions become more eye-opening as years go by.
This is what Schmidt (Jonah Hill) and Jenko (Channing Tatum) quickly realize in the high school comedy-cop comedy hybrid 21 Jump Street, which is based on the 1987 television series of the same name. Directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller, it's a modernization of the show that satirically pairs the perspectives of how much high school has changed since the show's original airing and of how much it has changed from how the film's two inept heroes remember it.
In 2005, Schmidt was never the popular student in high school, and he can't seem to ask a girl out to the prom without stammering. Jenko was the thick-headed jock that didn't dismiss a chance to humiliate him. Now, they are both older and are enrolled in the same police academy, where they become friends as Jenko offers to make Schmidt more physically fit, and Schmidt offers to help Jenko pass his police exams. Once they graduate, the police life isn't at all what they had hoped. They are stuck riding police bikes as they patrol a park. When an attempted arrest goes wrong, the two are sent to a covert division on 21 Jump Street, which sends young cops who, because of their youthful appearances, are sent into high schools to take down crime. Schmidt and Jenko are sent back to their old high school with the orders to investigate a new synthetic drug that is being circulated. They are told to make friends with the dealers and identify the suppliers. But with high school being different since they experienced it, there are some challenges and dangers brewing.
The pairing of Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum is a confirmation that the opposites-attract dynamic of buddy movies is still very vivacious in this brains-and-brawn duo. When you first see the two together in high school, their places in the high school social order are so far apart from each other, that it's hilariously bewildering when you think that their characters will end up as a pair of crime-fighters. The opening scene shows the two as high school students. We see Jonah Hill walk through the hall as an Eminem-wannabe with bleached blonde hair and braces, while the rapper's "The Real Slim Shaddy" plays in the background. He fully encapsulates the spirit of an awkward teenager.
As for Hill's dimwitted, law-enforcing other half, Tatum brings one of the biggest surprises of the film as he establishes that he has a capability for comedic deliverance. Everything from his I-don't-get-it facial expressions and his quotable dialogue, such as the way he pronounces the "AP" in "AP Chemistry" as "app," bring huge laughs to his comically dense character.
Hill's and Tatum's roles aren't just limited to this. Before they infiltrate the school, they are given undercover names and class schedules. Schmidt is supposed to blend in with the nerds in his AP classes and Jenko is supposed to get in with the popular crowd. When Jenko accidentally mixes up their identities, they are forced to go into the opposite groups. This offers a role-reversal for the two of them, and they are able to go through what the other experienced in high school. This gives room for their characters to become more developed as their mission continues.
The film has its amusing squad of supporting characters that occupies the school and police department. It includes Chris Parnell as a peculiar drama teacher, Rob Riggle as an immature gym instructor, a dainty Ellie Kemper who can't seem to keep her hands or mind off of Channing Tatum, and Dave Franco as a drug-dealing and eco-friendly student. Ice Cube is a scene-stealer as the loud, in-your-face captain of the 21 Jump Street crew who has the attitude of a hard-nosed drill sergeant and hilariously advises his young cops to embrace their stereotypes. There are also a few surprising cameos from the television show's original cast.
Michael Bacall's screenplay and Phil Lord and Chris Miller's direction are an exuberant mix of the high school and action film subgenres. For the scenes in the school, one of the best is when Schmidt and Jenko are on the first day of their new assignment. They begin to walk across the parking lot and make several observations comparing the appearances of the students and how they present themselves. What they witness is so different from what they lived through that it's close to a culture shock for them. There is also a memorable drug-induced sequence where the two friends take the mysterious drug themselves and undergo its various effects. We see their weird hallucinations and the ruckus they cause to a band room and a track meet.
21 Jump Street has a blazingly fun dose of action, especially for a comedy. There is a car/motorcycle chase with a menacing biker gang, and there's a little bit of grand theft auto involved. Also, on a prom night unlike any other, there is a showdown in a hotel suite and a three-limo chase, both of which come out with bullets flying.
Underneath all of the excitement is a story about two individuals who use not only their common crime-fighting to take down illegal activity in the high school setting, but also use it as a second chance to accomplish what they never did back when they were in school together the first time around. It does get a tad sappy at times when Schmidt and Jenko begin to realize the friendship that is forming between them, but it doesn't become overbearing. The story regards how Schmidt and Jenko relive high school from two new perspectives: one from the aspect of the difference in the high school cultures between the two main characters and the other students, and another from Schmidt and Jenko being placed in different cliques than they were once used to. As a trip back to high school for the audience, 21 Jump Street is a wild homecoming.
Final grade: A-
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Don't bother running out the front door, it's locked
The recent successes of 2011’s Insidious and the Paranormal Activity franchise (2009-2011) have proved that audiences still have the urge to embrace their fears and venture into a haunted house. When done right, a haunted-house film can make you tremor as you wait to see what’s around the corner, instead of having you laugh or groan at the clichés. In order to be frightened and impressed, we have to be given something that’s inventive.
Silent House, the new spook-fest from directors Chris Kentis and Laura Lau, which is based on the 2010 Uruguayan film La Casa Muda by Gustavo Hernandez, has the shocking events unravel in one continuous shot that lasts the duration of the film. Coming from someone who loves the technique of using long takes to tell a story, this film was an on-the-spot interest-grabber.
Sarah (Elizabeth Olsen) travels to her family’s lakeside house with her father (Adam Trese) and uncle (Eric Sheffer Stevens) to help them fix it up before selling it. As the afternoon goes into the evening, Sarah begins to be plagued by household horrors. With the windows boarded-up and the doors locked, escape is nearly impossible. As the danger grows in the time that’s quickly running out, Sarah must figure out why she’s being terrorized and find a way out of the house.
Elizabeth Olson doesn’t short-change the audience by giving a hackneyed performance that is all too common in most of today’s horror films. Because the camera follows her throughout the long take, in what is meant to appear as actual time, Olson takes us with her as she both extracts her inner scream queen and carries the film with much competence. We see every bit of her fear and vulnerability as she goes from a girl who simply goes to investigate a strange noise in an attic, to a victim who is as helpless as a rodent clutched in the talons of a hawk. Most of her dialogue is spoken when she’s with her father or uncle, and since she is alone for a majority of the film, Olson relies on her facial expressions, heavy breathing and shrieks to demonstrate her panicked terror and defenselessness. Her realistic performance makes it easy for the audience to sink into her dread as we navigate with her through every ominous hallway and room of the house.
Besides Olson’s commendable performance, Silent House’s foremost attraction is the use of a long take that goes on for the entire film. This is the work of cinematographer Igor Martinovic. This long take is all shot with the shaky-cam method, making it simple for the camera to move anywhere, and does a fine job in creating a disorienting feel as it chases Olson through the house. At one point in particular, the camera follows her as she runs in fright through a field. The camera seems to lose control of its movement as it tries to keep her in the frame, and this institutes a potent sense of alarm and urgency. Given how much the camera is always in motion and possesses a documentary quality, Silent House is almost like a found-footage film. Thankfully, the filmmakers didn’t take the easy way out to deliver their story on that tired approach that has been popping up too often in horror films.
Laura Lau’s screenplay is very much like her directing partner’s 2003 film Open Water, which Chris Kentis wrote and directed and Lau produced. The latter film and Silent House both use small casts but very different settings. While Silent House is confined to a piece of real estate, Open Water takes place in the vast ocean. Both films carry two striking similarities. One of which is that the main characters in both films are stuck in one place. Elizabeth Olson is caught in the grips of the house, and the two divers from Open Water are stranded in the middle of the ocean and float in one place with the fear of attracting sharks if they move too much. The second similarity is that both movies deal with the terror of isolation in life-threatening circumstances. After viewing both films, it's apparent that Kentis and Lau have a talent for making horror films that are limited in both setting and characters.
The film’s final twist is the one thing that almost damages the experience of Silent House. I won’t go into specifics, but odds are you have seen a twist like this before in other movies. Although the big reveal isn’t the ending that the film deserved, it does serve as a clever metaphor for the main character’s repressed memories. The result is that Olson’s performance and the technical ambitions outweigh the overall story. However, with the shortage of new horror films that truly deserves to be placed in the genre, just put the key in the lock and enter this haunted house. At least it’s trying to be something different.
Final grade: B
Silent House, the new spook-fest from directors Chris Kentis and Laura Lau, which is based on the 2010 Uruguayan film La Casa Muda by Gustavo Hernandez, has the shocking events unravel in one continuous shot that lasts the duration of the film. Coming from someone who loves the technique of using long takes to tell a story, this film was an on-the-spot interest-grabber.
Sarah (Elizabeth Olsen) travels to her family’s lakeside house with her father (Adam Trese) and uncle (Eric Sheffer Stevens) to help them fix it up before selling it. As the afternoon goes into the evening, Sarah begins to be plagued by household horrors. With the windows boarded-up and the doors locked, escape is nearly impossible. As the danger grows in the time that’s quickly running out, Sarah must figure out why she’s being terrorized and find a way out of the house.
Elizabeth Olson doesn’t short-change the audience by giving a hackneyed performance that is all too common in most of today’s horror films. Because the camera follows her throughout the long take, in what is meant to appear as actual time, Olson takes us with her as she both extracts her inner scream queen and carries the film with much competence. We see every bit of her fear and vulnerability as she goes from a girl who simply goes to investigate a strange noise in an attic, to a victim who is as helpless as a rodent clutched in the talons of a hawk. Most of her dialogue is spoken when she’s with her father or uncle, and since she is alone for a majority of the film, Olson relies on her facial expressions, heavy breathing and shrieks to demonstrate her panicked terror and defenselessness. Her realistic performance makes it easy for the audience to sink into her dread as we navigate with her through every ominous hallway and room of the house.
Besides Olson’s commendable performance, Silent House’s foremost attraction is the use of a long take that goes on for the entire film. This is the work of cinematographer Igor Martinovic. This long take is all shot with the shaky-cam method, making it simple for the camera to move anywhere, and does a fine job in creating a disorienting feel as it chases Olson through the house. At one point in particular, the camera follows her as she runs in fright through a field. The camera seems to lose control of its movement as it tries to keep her in the frame, and this institutes a potent sense of alarm and urgency. Given how much the camera is always in motion and possesses a documentary quality, Silent House is almost like a found-footage film. Thankfully, the filmmakers didn’t take the easy way out to deliver their story on that tired approach that has been popping up too often in horror films.
Laura Lau’s screenplay is very much like her directing partner’s 2003 film Open Water, which Chris Kentis wrote and directed and Lau produced. The latter film and Silent House both use small casts but very different settings. While Silent House is confined to a piece of real estate, Open Water takes place in the vast ocean. Both films carry two striking similarities. One of which is that the main characters in both films are stuck in one place. Elizabeth Olson is caught in the grips of the house, and the two divers from Open Water are stranded in the middle of the ocean and float in one place with the fear of attracting sharks if they move too much. The second similarity is that both movies deal with the terror of isolation in life-threatening circumstances. After viewing both films, it's apparent that Kentis and Lau have a talent for making horror films that are limited in both setting and characters.
The film’s final twist is the one thing that almost damages the experience of Silent House. I won’t go into specifics, but odds are you have seen a twist like this before in other movies. Although the big reveal isn’t the ending that the film deserved, it does serve as a clever metaphor for the main character’s repressed memories. The result is that Olson’s performance and the technical ambitions outweigh the overall story. However, with the shortage of new horror films that truly deserves to be placed in the genre, just put the key in the lock and enter this haunted house. At least it’s trying to be something different.
Final grade: B
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Celluloid of 1962 and Some Cinematic Touches of Today
Rider’s Spring 2012 Film Symposium was a wonderfully stimulating way to learn about film outside of the classroom. Since the theme was “1962 at the Movies,” it gave me the opportunity to discover some facts that I hadn’t known before about that era of film. The 1962 theme was a way to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the School of Liberal Arts.
But the symposium wasn’t just dedicated to 1962 cinema. Guest speakers participated to discuss matters such as film criticism, some students shared their academic work, and others screened their student films. There was a lot to witness at this semester’s symposium.
The first event I attended was one given by international film critic and scholar, Gerald Perry, who presented us with his experience with going from film viewer to filmmaker, when he showed audiences his film For the Love of Movies: The Story of American Film Criticism. The film delved deeper into the history of film criticism than I had expected, which was what made the viewing a lot of fun. I had originally anticipated that Mr. Perry’s film would just cover the last couple of decades in film criticism. But it was a treat to see the history of criticism from the very beginning and to see the changes that had occurred in this writing form over the years.
One of the most rewarding parts about the film was Perry’s use of interviews with various film critics. It provided the audience with a window into what these critics experience when they view films, attend festivals and write reviews. I liked the few minutes of the film where the narrator mentioned how when critics attended screenings, you weren’t able to decipher who in the audience was a critic. I found this to be an accurate and appropriate description of a critic, because yes, there are the professional critics in the audience, and then there are the regular viewers. But in a sense, everyone is a critic, because we all go into a movie, watch it, and then emerge from the theater and discuss it with our friends and family. So it’s rather appropriate that the critics blend in with the rest of the crowd.
Another event that I enjoyed was the one presided over by CUNY Professor Joe McElhaney, who gave the lecture “Purely Geographical: Politics as Space and Movement in Advise and Consent,” a film that I first watched in my Seminar in Cinema Studies class a few weeks ago. I’ll admit, it was a little slow for my taste, partly because I don’t get too excited for political films, except on a few occasions, like back in October when I saw The Ides of March, which I loved. Although Advise and Consent couldn’t grab my full attention on some parts, it did have other scenes that were punctuated with intrigue and mystery.
What I enjoyed the most about Mr. McElhaney’s presentation was when he talked about the camerawork for the film. He used one of the earlier scenes in the Senate to describe some of his points. I agreed with his view on the clever use of positioning of characters and the way how they would either appear or disappear out of the frame at unpredictable times. Although I had a hard time getting through most of Advise and Consent, watching some scenes again during the presentation with Mr. McElhaney’s commentary gave me the urge to give the film another chance, now that I have some new views on it.
Another event I attended was the Student Paper Panel on Film Form and Subjectivity. Being a Harry Potter fan, I listened to Sarah Sassone’s paper on the adaptation of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Having read the books and seen the movies, I agreed with much of what she was talking about, mostly with her information on how important it was for this film’s story to be told in a way that would properly set up the two-part finale. Having seen her present this paper in my Film Adaptation class last semester, this panel gave her a less time-sensitive opportunity to let her get more of her opinions and facts out to the audience than it did in the classroom.
I attended one event at the film symposium in my freshman year, which was dedicated to the horror genre, but didn’t have the chance to attend any events at last year’s symposium, which was dedicated to independent film. This year, I was fortunate enough to have a little more flexibility in my schedule to attend more events. Hopefully I have that time in my schedule next year to see what the following symposium has on screen.
But the symposium wasn’t just dedicated to 1962 cinema. Guest speakers participated to discuss matters such as film criticism, some students shared their academic work, and others screened their student films. There was a lot to witness at this semester’s symposium.
The first event I attended was one given by international film critic and scholar, Gerald Perry, who presented us with his experience with going from film viewer to filmmaker, when he showed audiences his film For the Love of Movies: The Story of American Film Criticism. The film delved deeper into the history of film criticism than I had expected, which was what made the viewing a lot of fun. I had originally anticipated that Mr. Perry’s film would just cover the last couple of decades in film criticism. But it was a treat to see the history of criticism from the very beginning and to see the changes that had occurred in this writing form over the years.
One of the most rewarding parts about the film was Perry’s use of interviews with various film critics. It provided the audience with a window into what these critics experience when they view films, attend festivals and write reviews. I liked the few minutes of the film where the narrator mentioned how when critics attended screenings, you weren’t able to decipher who in the audience was a critic. I found this to be an accurate and appropriate description of a critic, because yes, there are the professional critics in the audience, and then there are the regular viewers. But in a sense, everyone is a critic, because we all go into a movie, watch it, and then emerge from the theater and discuss it with our friends and family. So it’s rather appropriate that the critics blend in with the rest of the crowd.
Another event that I enjoyed was the one presided over by CUNY Professor Joe McElhaney, who gave the lecture “Purely Geographical: Politics as Space and Movement in Advise and Consent,” a film that I first watched in my Seminar in Cinema Studies class a few weeks ago. I’ll admit, it was a little slow for my taste, partly because I don’t get too excited for political films, except on a few occasions, like back in October when I saw The Ides of March, which I loved. Although Advise and Consent couldn’t grab my full attention on some parts, it did have other scenes that were punctuated with intrigue and mystery.
What I enjoyed the most about Mr. McElhaney’s presentation was when he talked about the camerawork for the film. He used one of the earlier scenes in the Senate to describe some of his points. I agreed with his view on the clever use of positioning of characters and the way how they would either appear or disappear out of the frame at unpredictable times. Although I had a hard time getting through most of Advise and Consent, watching some scenes again during the presentation with Mr. McElhaney’s commentary gave me the urge to give the film another chance, now that I have some new views on it.
Another event I attended was the Student Paper Panel on Film Form and Subjectivity. Being a Harry Potter fan, I listened to Sarah Sassone’s paper on the adaptation of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Having read the books and seen the movies, I agreed with much of what she was talking about, mostly with her information on how important it was for this film’s story to be told in a way that would properly set up the two-part finale. Having seen her present this paper in my Film Adaptation class last semester, this panel gave her a less time-sensitive opportunity to let her get more of her opinions and facts out to the audience than it did in the classroom.
I attended one event at the film symposium in my freshman year, which was dedicated to the horror genre, but didn’t have the chance to attend any events at last year’s symposium, which was dedicated to independent film. This year, I was fortunate enough to have a little more flexibility in my schedule to attend more events. Hopefully I have that time in my schedule next year to see what the following symposium has on screen.
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