REVIEW: Jessica Jones Season 1 (Netflix)

     Marvel's series of original programming on Netflix continues, with its second series in the 'Defenders' lineup debuting this month.  Submitted for your approval:  Jessica Jones, the newest entry in Marvel's live-action pantheon.

      Jessica Jones is something of an usual entry in a superhero catalog, in that the fact that the character has super powers is incidental; there is no secret identity, no costume - none of the usual trappings we've come to associate with the concept.  Casual audiences may be forgiven for not being familiar with the protagonist...she's a comparatively new arrival to the comics..  Essentially, she received super-strength and flight as a teenager, but her super-activities as "Jewel" were curtailed by the rather gross manipulation at the hands of a villain called The Purple Man.   After recovering, she re-invented herself as a private investigator, dealing more with the 'Marvel Knights' street-level types than the traditional super-villain caste, and became partner and spouse to Luke Cage.

    The show features Krysten Ritter as the sardonic, hard-drinking title character, with Mike Colter as Luke Cage and 'Tenth Doctor' David Tennant as the Purple Man, who here goes by his alias Kilgrave.  Rachael Taylor appears as Patsy "Trish" Walker, Jones' best friend, well known to older comics audiences as not only the star of Silver Age teen comic books, but also as the superhero and card-carrying Avengers member Hellcat.  Wil Traval appears as 'Simpson', a police officer who in the comics takes on the identity of unstable antagonist Nuke, and Carrie-Ann Moss of the Matrix fame appears as Jery Hogarth, a lawyer associate of Jones'...the gender of the role was changed for the series.  Eka Darville and Erin Moriarty also appear in sizable roles as additional victims of Kilgrave's.

Don't trust the J in New York...um, Cit-A?

    This is an extremely solid series.  Although it's part of the broader MCU, it's much closer artistically to the preceding Netflix series Daredevil than anything else.  Even so, it has a tone and style all its own, with a modern noir sensibility that blends a classic Chandler-esque flavor with modern New York.  The characters are convincing and sincere, and there's a vitality to the series which conveys both dry humor and intense drama.  The show is dark without being oppressively so; it's not quite as grimly relentless as Daredevil was, which is interesting given the serious and often frightening subject matter.

     This is a series about control, who has it, and who doesn't.  Kilgrave is an insidious threat because he can make anyone do anything at all, simply by speaking, and he uses that power for selfish, often petty ends.  He enjoys manipulating and controlling women in particular, enslaving innocent women as unwilling concubines, raping and otherwise terrifying them.  Jessica Jones herself represents the object of Kilgrave's primary obsession, as she was the one woman able to escape him.

      From the opening of the series forward, we're exposed to the consequences facing Kilgrave's victims.  Reality bends and blurs as Jessica relives moments of her captivity, and her own nightmares come flaring back to life as she encounters the latest in a long line of abused women.  The show does not shy away from depicting the trauma inflicted on those who have crossed Kilgrave's path - the ones who weren't flat out killed in horrific ways were violated and humiliated, and live in constant fear of his return, and/or some future recurrence of this loss of control.

Her whole demeanor just says "Welcome to Alias Investigations", doesn't it?

    It makes for an incredibly compelling story.  It's all the more so when you factor in the implications of a series with two strong female leads, where the men are either attractive sidekicks or dangerously unstable or evil.  There's an interesting reversal here from what we've been seeing lately from Marvel.  Jessica is an engaging protagonist, and the show is all hers. I was worried at a few points that the show was going to contrive a scenario wherein Luke Cage would have to rescue her, but the show does a fantastic job keeping the focus on Jones, making her intelligent, competent and able to solve her own problems, at great personal sacrifice as needed, even when she's feeling overwhelmed.  This has been something of a rarity in the superhero genre, so it's nice to finally see.

    Another aspect of the show I have to applaud is the use of Kilgrave.  I've been on record multiple times about the appalling dearth of well-written villains in the MCU.  Kilgrave follows in the footsteps of Kingpin as a compelling and genuinely scary foe as well as being a fascinating character in his own right - so whatever governance applies to these Netflix series, the rest of Marvel needs to take note.  The writing on Kilgrave is interesting - every so often the show teases out a bit of what could make him likable, only to remind the audience exactly how vicious and small he can be.  He's a clear and present danger to Jones and the other characters, but he is not without a disturbing charisma.  I wouldn't say that he engenders sympathy per se, but he's got clear motives and goals, a solid backstory, and is far more complex and nuanced than most of his contemporary MCU peers.  For a character who's 'gifted' with a mind-controlling pheromone power, he's realistic if deeply unsettling.

   While the writing can be somewhat predictable, it's reliably solid and consistent.  The characters are all fleshed out, distinct, and interesting.  The show is appropriately serious given the subject matter, but still injects levity along with the occasional easter egg.  Best of all, the show is not married to the overall MCU, so it doesn't feel like a giant commercial for upcoming product Disney wants to shill.  All of the attention is focused on these characters, and while there is some connection to Daredevil in the final episode, it's casual and unforced.  The creators of this show put all their attention on this project, and it pays off.

I suspect he and the Joker share a tailor.

    A lot of credit has to go to Ritter and Tennant, in particular.  This is by far the best performance I've ever seen Ritter give...it's a meaty part, to be sure, but she handles it beautifully, with absolute sincerity, and moments of guarded fragility seeping out through a bitter exterior.  She manages to make even Jones' snarkier moments avoid being fatuous or glib, and presents a character worth rooting for.  Tennant, for his part, channels much of that incredible energy he's known for, and gives every line personality.  There are times Kilgrave resembles some of Tennant's more avuncular roles, and then, in an instant (Don't blink!), the monster appears.  What's particularly enjoyable is that Kilgrave is remarkably genuine for all his psychosis; even as a master manipulator, his anger, hope, pain and desire are all laid bare for Jones to see.  The show doesn't really develop Kilgrave much until the second half of the series, but makes up for lost time once he does start getting significant screen time.  The whole cast is very solid, but Ritter and Tennant are far and away the anchors.

   The only real issue I took with the show was the pacing.  There are a few episodes where the story lags, and towards the end of the series it felt like the show was being padded.  There's also some superfluity going on - there's a whole subplot involving Hogarth's pending divorce which takes up a lot of time, and has a very limited and predictable payoff.   There's also too much focus on some of Kilgrave's other incidental victims; after a while, the thread involving them begins to feel repetitive and distracting.  I suspect this may be a drawback to to the format of the show - I felt Daredevil suffered from the same problem.  Both series could have been a little bit shorter - I think Jessica Jones could have been tighter as a ten-episode series, rather than thirteen.

   That's a minor quibble, though, since the show does manage to remain more or less consistently interesting throughout.  The ending is a little bit anticlimactic, but on the other hand, did have a certain inevitability to it.  There are also a few doors left open at the end of the series for what will no doubt be a second season, or possible inclusion in the Luke Cage series currently filming for next year's release.

"Sing once again with me our strange duet...."

    All told, it's a very worthwhile show dealing with a credible female lead, a well-crafted villain, with scripts that focus more on sincere character development instead of witty banter and a plot addressing serious topics with tangible consequences,  all of which have been lacking in the MCU.  It's not only a wonderful step forward in those regards, but is also an enjoyable, stylish production in its own right.  It seems clear to me that the Netflix arm of the MCU knows what it's doing - so far we've been getting far more quality out of that end of the business than anywhere else.  Jessica Jones represents a step forward, and definitely a show to watch.

FINAL RATING: 8 PAWS (OUT OF 10):

 

REVIEW: Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones

      In my previous entry, I had mentioned that The Phantom Menace was fated to encounter a disappointing reaction, regardless of its quality, because nothing could live up to that amount of hype?  Well, it turned out the same fate awaited its sequel, which was somewhat pathetic given the lowered expectations facing Episode II on its release.   Welcome, ladies and gents, to the nadir of the Star Wars universe: Attack of the Clones.  I'm so, so sorry.

You know, the clones don't really attack anything, per se.  They rescue and defend against an attacking army.

    Attack of the Clones (AOTC) is set ten years after Episode I.   A separatist political movement led by ex-Jedi Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) is threatening the Republic, leading for calls for Chancellor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) to create a standing army.  Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman), now a senator, leads the opposition to this movement, and as such, is targeted by assassins.  Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his padawan Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) are assigned to protect Padme, but Obi-Wan quickly discovers the political movement is far more complicated than anyone realized, and Anakin and Padme fall incomprehensibly in love.  Throughout it all, a devastating war is brewing.  Temeura Morrison plays Jango Fett, the bounty hunter tasked with overseeing Padme's death, and also plays the legions of clonetroopers to which the film's title refers.  Jimmy Smits and Joel Edgerton appear briefly as Bail Organa and Owen Lars, respectively, future guardians of classic characters.  Frank Oz, Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker, Ahmed Best, Silas Carson and Pernilla August all return as well.

    Let me just get this out of the way:  I don't like this movie.  I know it's trendy to jump all over the prequels, but as I mentioned last time, for all its flaws I actually do like Episode I.  Episode III is reasonably decent.  This one, though - it's tough to watch.  It's clumsy, long, tedious, awkward, sloppy, and frankly, as a fan, embarrassing.

    It's interesting to note that a lot of the complaints audiences had with Episode I are addressed or rectified here.  Jar Jar Binks's presence, for example, is brief, constrained, and services the plot.  The midi-chlorians are absent, and there's no attempt to make the movie overtly cutesy or more child-friendly than necessary.  Actually, there's a fair amount of death, mutilation, and at least one decapitation, so you can't really accuse Lucas of pandering to the kids this time.  To tell the truth, AOTC really only has two issues with it.  The problem is that these two issues are enormous.

   

Jango Fett, Boba's baby daddy.  He's pictured here still ahead of the game.  He hasn't yet blown his top.  He's still keeping a lid on it.  He's keeping calm and not losing his...okay, I'll stop.

    The first problem is - once again- the script.  It's far worse than its predecessor.  For one thing, the dialogue is banal and unbelievably clunky.  Expository lines are unwieldy, and there are a lot of unnecessary moments thrown in which I think, in Lucas' mind, were supposed to be character bits but instead just emerge as drivel.  There's no rhythm to the movie - conversations are stilted and cuts between them do not flow.  The actors lack chemistry, and the entire cast feels like they're delivering lines from a bad translation of a low-budget B-movie.  Everyone, from McGregor on down, feels completely unnatural.  There are a handful of decent lines, but most of the quips and banter are artificial, conversations are sloppy, and a lot of the 'sincere' moments are cringe-worthy.

    It's not just the dialogue, though - the plot itself is a mess.  The political maneuverings are actually quite interesting, but they're handled in a bizarre, dismissive way that's never really clarified.  For example - what are the reasons for the political separation movement?  How is Dooku manipulating people?  Why did he leave the Jedi order?  What are Padme's specific motivations, or suggested solutions?  For that matter, why is ANYONE doing what they're doing in this movie?  None of that is addressed - though if you do the reading into the EU, etc, you can get some of those answers...but again, that's not how a movie is supposed to work.  Beyond that, the whole shadowy conspiracy to create the clone army is ridiculously convoluted...Lucas even goes so far as to create a character, long-dead, who never appears on screen as a key part of the plot, and then never explains what actually happened with this character, or why they did what they did.  It would have made far more sense to have Dooku himself be the instigator, and would have given the character more time to develop as a fleshed-out, nuanced being.  Of course, if you want a detailed, compelling character, you have to let someone who isn't George Lucas write it.

    As bad as these elements of the script and story are, though, they pale in comparison with the single biggest problem in the movie: the love story.  The romance between Anakin and Padme is easily the worst element in any Star Wars entry ever - and yes, I'm including the infamous Holiday Special in that statement.  At least that generated accidental comedy...though they do both, in their own way, generate Boba Fett.

This is it: the most painfully awful scene in all of Star Wars lore.  It may be one of the worst scenes in all of cinema.

    When I say that the love story is the second of two issues with the movie, I'm compressing all of the exasperating elements into one general topic.  It's written badly, it's directed badly, and it's acted badly, but what's so galling is that this is the plot element on which the entire Star Wars universe turns.  Anakin Skywalker is the key character in the saga, and his downfall - and that of the Republic - hinges upon where this plotline goes.  It is the core thread, and it was critical for Lucas to nail this, as it sets up everything that follows, so having him botch it as badly as he did undermined the entire series.

   Part of it is the acting - Portman is again wooden and distant in the role, though I do have the sense that she's trying a little harder this time.  Unfortunately, Padme is such a superficial role...the character is something of a Mary Sue, but largely devoid of personality.  You can see how she was meant to appear as noble, brave, self-sacrificing...but you have to read all that into her, because she just comes across as bland.  Even token attempts to flesh out her story fall flat...there's some babbling about her childhood in the 'Legislative Youth Program' prior to her being elected queen, and some talk of her youth on Naboo, but all this really just makes her seem vapid and a little nerdy.   Padme is certainly pretty, but she doesn't seem to be blessed with many other obvious assets...she's not portrayed as being of particularly above-average intelligence, charisma, humor, warmth or even kindness.  The audience is just supposed to accept her as 'good' because the script needs her to be.

    As for Anakin, I do feel somewhat badly for Christensen.  I think he was limited by the awful writing, but even taking that into consideration, he lacked skill, nuance, or depth...and his career has suffered for it.  In the hands of another actor perhaps Anakin might have been more compelling, but as long as he was at the mercy of a director who didn't gave a damn, it probably would not have made a difference.  Anakin is an ignorant, petulant, grating, whiny, irrational, and frankly creepy punk who feels entitled to whatever he wants.  Strangely, Lucas had a built-in logic for this...after all, Anakin is supposed to be 'the Chosen One'...but his actions aren't drawn from any kind of prophesied greatness, rather they come from a childish impatience.  He seems more like a selfish, spoiled brat than an ambitious young warrior, and it trivializes the character.  Instead of setting him up to appear like a Macbeth or an Othello, he comes across like a big baby.  Indeed, even his slaughter of the Tusken Raiders who torture and kill his mother is not a heartbroken outrage or shattering loss, it's nothing more than a temper tantrum.  And a badly written one, at that...there's no logical continuity between this twerp and Darth Vader.

Their love would inspire a galaxy....to fall asleep.

   The two characters are underdeveloped and poorly written - but the way Lucas wrote the love story with these two is a little disturbing.  It transpires that in the ten years since TPM, Anakin has developed a fixation on Padme, who's essentially forgotten all about him.  When they're thrust together, Anakin immediately beings awkwardly hitting on Padme, telling her how beautiful she is and how obsessed he's been, and her immediate reaction is to attempt to forestall this by saying she still thinks of him as the child he was, and then to point-blank ask him to stop leering at her.  Anakin then interprets this as encouragement, becoming increasingly creepy as he ogles her, paws at her, and makes both Padme and the audience more and more uncomfortable, even as she continues to rebuff him.    All of this leads to one of the worst-written scenes I've ever seen in any movie, where Padme (wearing a leather corset in front of a roaring fire, for reasons) tells Anakin flat out it's simply not happening.  This isn't the moment for two heartbroken star-crossed lovers, though - it's a college girl telling her creepy stalker classmate as politely as she can that they should just be friends.

   From there, the film moves on, and then just before the final action set-piece, all of a sudden Padme decides she's in love with Anakin.  It's abrupt, unexplained and illogical, but there it is - out of the blue, she declares in a lethargic monotone that she 'truly, deeply' loves him, and they kiss, as the score suddenly rouses itself into a stirring anthem, optimistically hopeful that the audience will buy it.   The movie then ends with the two of them getting married on Naboo in a scene with the two actors looking as bored as humanly possible.

   There's no explanation for Padme's shift.  I suppose you could argue it's borne from sympathy over Anakin's mother's death, about two-thirds of the way through the film, but that doesn't really scan.  My wife has a theory that during an earlier scene in which the two romp through a field of CGI armadillos, Padme hits her head and develops a galaxy-ruining concussion.  I may actually run with that idea.  Point being, though, the romance doesn't make sense.  It's clearly not genuine or reciprocal...Anakin doesn't love Padme, he fixates on the IDEA of Padme, and Padme is clearly disinterested at best.   The two actors have zero chemistry, which means there's no spark or attraction between the two, which might have helped sell it.  So what we actually get is a creepy teenage boy deciding that he wants the girl of his dreams, despite what she may think about it - and then the creep actually does get the girl, regardless of his behavior.  And this is the core relationship which will lead to the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire...not a great foredoomed passion or a romance for the ages, but a post-adolescent creepshow.

"The hour grows late and and Lucas rides to Isengard, seeking my casting."  Lee as Count Dooku.

    The rest of the cast does what it can with the movie, but they're constrained.  Christopher Lee is a great addition to anything, and despite the cruddy dialogue, his Count Dooku is an interesting if underdeveloped character, with a captivating fencing style.  Ewan McGregor and Ian McDiarmid both do their best with what they're given and are probably the least-scathed characters in the movie.  Jackson's Mace Windu is, of course, a bad-ass, but like Dooku, we're not given a lot of time to have the the character get any real development.

    Morrison, as Jango Fett, is the Darth Maul of the movie - the new neat-looking secondary villain who'd sell a million action figures - and is actually a pretty decent addition.  He's also the means by which fans finally get an origin for the bounty hunter Boba Fett, possibly the most popular secondary character in Star Wars history.  Frank Oz, as Yoda, gets some good moments, imparting the character with both an impish, grandfatherly warmth as well as ferocity when we finally get to see the aged Jedi fight.  And everyone's favorite droid duo, Artoo and Threepio, have a couple of Laurel & Hardy bits in the last reel that add some levity to the depressing movie.  For some reason, I don't mind Threepio's antics the way I loath Jar Jar's.  They're unnecessary, but somehow maintain humor and a degree of cuteness.

Getting to see the Jedi in action was one of the film's few high points.

   While the movie's core is hopelessly mired in this mess, the film itself has a few positive things to mention.  It is visually appealing, as we've come to expect.  There are some fantastic new landscapes - the ocean planet of Kamino and the wastelands of Geonosis are striking new planets, and we get to see more of the vibrant capital of Coruscant and some new locations on Tatooine.  There are some new races and creatures to speak of - the insectoid hive-minded Geonosian race, which are key to the separatist plot, are fascinating, and there are three lethal creatures, which vaguely resemble a bull, scorpion, and tiger, respectively, that factor in to the movie's last reel that are memorable, well-rendered, and rather cool.

   I will say the last third of the movie is better than the rest of it, largely because it's built around an exciting action sequence that lets the Jedi loose in a colosseum-like death arena, and builds to an impressive show of military force as the clonetroopers descend en masse to save the day.  The climax of the movie involves a lightsaber showdown - as per usual - between Dooku and Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Yoda.  Each has their own distinct fighting style, and I've always appreciated that element of Star Wars lore (as I've mentioned, I'm a sucker for lightsabers), so playing up that angle is fine with me.  We also get to see our first new-colored lightsaber, as Sam Jackson wields his purple blade with aplomb.  There are also a batch of Jedi characters present who grabbed the attention of audiences, and who later came to be developed more fully in the Clone Wars show or the EU.

  The end of AOTC actually features what might be my favorite scene in the prequel trilogy, as Chancellor Palpatine and other senators watch the clonetroopers boarding their ships to go out and begin fighting the Clone Wars.  The symbolism of the scene is great - it's filmed at sunset, as the Imperial March rises to a crescendo, drowning out the fanfare of the Republic, heralding the rise of the Empire.  Palpatine's calm triumph is contrasted with Bail Organa's sadness at what we know is a major turning point in the story.  Indeed, when you come to realize how cleverly Palpatine has played all his cards, you have to respect him as a character.  Palpatine's growth and development is one of the best elements of the prequel era, even if a lot of it is subtle or even inferred.

Kit Fisto, ladies and gentlemen - let a smile be your lightsaber.

   Ultimately, this movie is a mess.  It's full of key events in the SW saga, almost all of which are mishandled.  It lacks emotion, depth, or heart, the cast has no chemistry, the plot varies between murky and trite, and half of it feels like a glorified toy commercial.  It looks great - the music, costumes, aliens, vehicles and locations are all spectacular - but that's all window dressing, unfortunately - what's inside is a galactic-level disappointment.  It's wasted potential, and Star Wars fans are incredibly lucky to have the existence of the Clone Wars animated film and series, which picks up following the end of AOTC and does a lot to redeem the characters and restore the overall SW universe.  Which is all well and good, but it makes AOTC even worse by comparison, when one considers how much better the movie could have been.

   The good news is that it only gets better from here.

FINAL RATING: 2 PAWS (OUT OF 10):

Next Up: Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith...

 

REVIEW: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace

      Kicking off our (narratively chronological) look at the Star Wars films, we start with 1999's entry, Episode I: The Phantom Menace, the first of what is now known as 'The Prequel Trilogy', coming sixteen years after the conclusion of the original films.  By the summer of its release, the hype for Phantom Menace (or 'TPM', as I will refer to it hereafter) was enormous, possibly unparalleled in movie history.   A marketing and merchandising bonanza, it redefined what a summer blockbuster 'should' be from a studio perspective, but ultimately left audience and fans a little bit...spaced.  Let's take a look:

There's lens flare.  On the poster.  J.J. Abrams must have been so pleased.

    Set about thirty years prior to the events of the original trilogy, TPM centers around two Jedi Knights - Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor), as they attempt to save young Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman) from the shadowy plots of the mysterious Dark Lord of the Sith (the eponymous threat), and his apprentice, Darth Maul (Ray Park).  In the course of the travels, they come across a slave boy, Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd), who is so strong in the Force that Qui-Gon believes him to be the long-prophesied 'Chosen One'.  As the events of the film unfold, the protagonists get wrapped up in a political conflict surrounding the seemingly-humble Senator Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), whose dark secrets will eventually spell trouble for the Republic.  Samuel L. Jackson appears in a small role as Jedi Master Mace Windu, and the movie also features Pernilla August, Terence Stamp, Silas Carson, Ahmed Best and a pre-fame Keira Knightley, as well as classic-era favorites Frank Oz, Anthony Daniels, and Kenny Baker as Yoda, C-3PO, and R2-D2, respectively.

     It's a little tough to review a movie like this without putting in the framework of the series.  It's also tricky to look at a movie on its own merits, rather than in comparison to other films.  This is a particular problem when 'other films', in this case, are much-beloved cultural icons.  There's almost no way to win - and I would contend that ANY movie would have trouble living up to the massive hype that TPM carried with it.  Even so, it's not a great movie.  I don't know that I could even call it a good movie, though I don't really feel it's a bad one, either.  Faint praise, I know.  It's a watchable film, but one with a number of glaring flaws that render what could have been a decent movie into one that is at best mediocre...and that's not even talking about how it stacks up against the vintage series.  To my mind, there are five specific and separate things driving down the quality of TPM, in order of increasing aggravation:

"One more joke about General Tso...ONE MORE, I'm warning you..."

     #5:  Stereotyping.  It's not surprising to hear strange voices or languages coming from Star Wars creatures.  It was, however, a little bizarre in TPM to hear various races being represented by cartoon-like pseudo-ethnic pastiches.  The goofy Gungan race was made up of characters that all sounded vaguely Caribbean-islander.  The sleazy, greedy Neimoidian race all had broad, Chinese-sounding accents and delivery, like extras in a Kung Fu episode.  Watto, the slave-owning junk dealer, despite being a flying warthog, seemed to hail from somewhere between Greece and Italy.  All of these were played for laughs, and come across as absurd.  It's unfortunate, as taken a bit more seriously these characters could have been seen as noble, vile, or menacing, respectively, but instead, we got outdated stock types that made me start to worry that someone was going to show up in blackface.  It's jarring and silly.

 

Perhaps her expression is simply due to concentration - it must be tough keeping that headdress from causing collateral damage.

     #4: Natalie Portman.  Yes, she was a teenager when they made this movie, and thus perhaps not as well-versed in her craft as her later Academy Award win might suggest she'd become.  That still doesn't excuse the wooden, bored, phoned-in performance we got.  The expression you see on her face in the photo above is more or less the same expression she wears throughout the movie.  On paper, Padme Amidala is supposed to be a surprisingly tough and strong-willed heroine, despite being treated as a china doll.  She doesn't translate that way, though - Portman largely speaks in a monotone, and looks as though she'd rather be anywhere else in the world than where she is.  (Which may, perhaps, have been true...perhaps it was a sort of depression borne from spending most of the movie looking like a cross between a geisha and a fashion-challenged mime.)  She has this dead-eyed demeanor that doesn't say 'stoic' or 'determined' so much as 'ZZZZZZ'.  For a character as central to the story as she is, one could have hoped for a more spirited performance, but then, one would have been disappointed.   In all honesty, Portman's subsequent films have left me with the sense that her range is somewhat narrow, and I have to wonder if the role of Padme was miscast.  I like to imagine the role as Keira Knightley, who plays Padme's decoy, might have played it - I think there'd have been a lot more spark to the character.  Ultimately Padme's dullness is only part of the problem here, but it goes on to become an increasing issue later in the series.

"Well you can tell by the way I use the Force I'm a Jedi man, no time to talk...."

     #3:  The Script.   From a story perspective, I think TPM is serviceable.  It works, more or less.  Some people complained that the movie was 'too complicated', but I've never sympathized with that particular gripe.  I actually like the political maneuvering, and the script does offer us some neat new characters, concepts, and locations.  It's full of clunky dialogue, though, and there are some serious focus issues - characters will babble about details that Lucas apparently thought were interesting but go nowhere, while glossing over important topics.  For example - Anakin is apparently conceived BY THE FORCE, and yet this rather startling information is conveyed by his mother in a twenty-second bit and then completely forgotten, even when Qui-Gon is talking the kid up to the Jedi Council.  It's never delved into again - unless, of course, you're into the Expanded Universe.  But as I've mentioned before in other contexts, you shouldn't have to do the script's homework for it.   The workings of Naboo (Amidala's home planet), the race of Gungans, the Trade Federation, slave life - most of these topics are broached and then skipped over in cursory fashion, which doesn't so much whet the appetite to learn more as it does bemuse the audience.  And then there are the midi-chlorians, a concept about which the less said the better.  Suffice it to say, when even Lucas eventually backs off from of his own stupid ideas, you know it was a stinker.   All told, there are too many "Wait, what?" moments in the dialogue to ignore, and it underscores exactly how badly Lucas needed an editor.  I can't help but think that if the script had gone through even one or two more revisions, it might have been a lot sharper and tighter.

Admit it: you want to punch him.

    #2:  Jar Jar Binks.  Yep, you knew this was coming.  This bipedal frog-like creature is this movie's stand-in for Chewbacca as "semi-animal sidekick", but unlike Chewbacca, Jar Jar just plain sucks, to use the vernacular.  His only function in the movie is to introduce the human characters to the Gungans, which he does twice in the film.  Otherwise, he is entirely superfluous, and tags along in scenes in which he has no place.  What makes him such a problem, though, is that due to some misguided notion of Lucas' that kids needed to be pandered to and entertained (though in the generation of Barney, one could see how he'd make that stumble), Jar Jar is played for laughs...by which I mean he does random pratfalls and slapstick, speaks in a loud, goofy screech, and has meaningless, fatuous one-liners that would be appropriate coming out of the mouth of Steve Urkel.  Jar Jar's antics are constantly going on in the background of otherwise normal scenes, or tacked on at the conclusion of serious moments, and there's absolutely NO reason for any of it.  He doesn't influence what's going on around him, and his bumbling stupidity gets old in his first scene.  What's truly grating is that Jar Jar has more screen time than any other character in the movie.   Lucas has admitted he was taken aback by the sheer loathing Jar Jar engendered - the floppy-eared Gungan alienated adults and kids alike - and Jar Jar's presence gradually decreases after TPM.  That's too late to help this movie, though, and Binks is a distracting, obnoxious presence throughout.  He is not, however, the movie's biggest problem...

 

I keep expecting to hear "Hey Mister Willllll-soooooon!"

    #1: Anakin Skywalker.  The reason this little tyke outweighs Jar Jar is that while the Gungan is irritating, he can actually be tuned out - whereas Anakin is pivotal to the movie.  In fact, he's the most central character in the entire Star Wars saga, which is why I can say with certainty that Lucas failed him utterly.  No disrespect meant to Jake Lloyd, who I think did as well as any non-British young actor with a director who can't direct human beings could have done (and who has since paid the price for his child-stardom, worse than many of his peers).  But I look at the Harry Potter franchise and realize that it is not beyond reason that child actors can be genuine, talented, and compelling.  No, this one's all Lucas's fault - he played Anakin, the star character of the franchise, as a cutesy-little moppet, a super-talented goody-two-shoes whose dialogue is full of darling little Darndest-Things that make this future Dark Lord come across as an ambulatory Precious Moment.  It almost feels like Lucas went along, thinking "How can I make him more Super Cute?"  It doesn't make Anakin cherubic, though -which would be bad enough - it makes him into a dorky little twerp.  I just want to stuff him in the same airlock with Wesley Crusher.   When the character who holds the most crucial role in your series is badly acted, badly directed, and badly written, he drags it down to the point that he's unlikable, unsympathetic, and you just want him the hell off screen.  It's the most major flaw in TPM, because it's simply unavoidable, and unfortunately, it's a problem that only gets worse as the series moves on.

Maybe instead of posing, they should have been polishing the script.

   All that said, strange as it may seem, I do actually kind of like this movie.  That's partially because I still find it charming in its own ham-handed way, partially because I have fond memories of its release, and partially because there are a number of things in the film I legitimately like.

   For one thing, it's visually gorgeous, with sweeping vistas and striking images.  We finally get to see Coruscant, probably my favorite Star Wars locale, after hearing about it in the EU for so long, and it didn't disappoint.  Naboo looks like a Tuscan paradise, and there's a whole parade of creatures that, computer-generated or not, look phenomenal...even the Gungans are rendered beautifully.  The droid armies, while played as inept to highlight the importance of human armies later on, are slick and stylish.  The podracing sequence is fun, well-paced, and different, and the climactic duel between the two Jedi and Darth Maul is elegant and exciting...in fact, getting to see the Jedi as well-trained younger warriors rather than old and dying is still one of my favorite elements of the prequels.  (And it doesn't hurt that John Williams returned to add to his already iconic score.)  The costumes are lush and memorable, and the overall quality is clear, crisp and vivid - as I've mentioned before, as a visual storyteller, Lucas is almost without peer...it is without doubt his greatest strength as a filmmaker.

One of them will cause millions of people untold anguish.  The other one will be The Emperor.

   There are some very engaging new characters, or updates on classic ones.  The Jedi are a particular highlight from me - they're not given a ton to do here, but even on first viewing I was eager to know more about them.  Neeson is in fine form as 'warrior monk' here, likeable, sometimes gruff, and with his usual natural gravitas.  McGregor is clearly enjoying himself - his role in TPM is largely secondary, setting him up for his later central status, but he manages to take awkward dialogue and deliver it with charm and sincerity, redeeming a lot of what could have been plain lousy.  Ian McDiarmid, who through sheer luck was able to return to the franchise at the right time to play Palpatine at the right age, illustrates what a devious and cunning threat the future Emperor is, but with a certain amount of dry humor, making the character that much more enjoyable.  Artoo and Threepio get origins here, and no Star Wars film would be complete without their presence; it's also fun to see a slightly-younger Yoda interacting with other Jedi.  And of course there's Darth Maul - some fans found him to be criminally under-used given how strongly his appearance (and that of his famous double-bladed lightsaber) resonated from the trailers - but ultimately his function was that of henchman, which in the greater scheme of the story makes perfect sense.  He's still a remarkably cool concept, both in presence and in terms of his visuals, and he became an iconic image right off the bat.  Much like Boba Fett, he's only a minor villain, but one who caught the audience's imagination...which in a lot of ways, is the Star Wars success story in a nutshell.

"Ba-da, Ba-da, Ba-da, BA-DA....KORA!  RADDABA!  KORA!!! RADDABA!  Doo-doo-doodle-oo"

      All in all, TPM is something of a prequel to the prequels...it's set ten years prior to the rest of the narrative, so it is something of a standalone.    It's there to introduce audiences to the latter days of the Republic, and set up the characters we've all come to know and love, showing how Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Yoda, R2-D2, C-3PO and Palpatine came to know each other, and set the stage for the later films to answer questions fans had been asking about the Star Wars universe for years.  It doesn't flow into the story the way Episode 2, The Clone Wars, and Episode 3 do, or the way the classic trilogy does, so it's easier to look at it on its own.

"Check it out!  This was half-off at Spencer's!"

   Unfortunately, while slick, fresh, and somewhat eager-to-please, TPM falls far short of expectations - though it was still a box-office smash.  The overdone pandering to 'kiddie' entertainment, the forced and uninspired direction, the unpolished script, and the overall lack of spirit that so electrified the original series all crash together, which left most fans disappointed, or at the very least, underwhelmed.  While there are elements to like about TPM, it suffers from critical problems that more care and thought - which as venerated a concept as Star Wars is, it had the right to expect - would have mitigated.  I happen to like it well enough in spite of its problems, but your mileage may vary.  I will argue, though, that it is not the worst of the prequel era....that joy is yet to come.

FINAL RATING:  4 PAWS (OUT OF 10):

Up next time: Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones....
    

STAR WARS: Prelude to a Countdown

   We're heading into that time of year, the season where people look forward to surprises, excitement, the warm feeling of childhood, and squabbling among themselves amid glowing red and green lights.  Yes, friends, we are now getting ready to count down...

   ...to the release of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens.

     In anticipation of this cinematic milestone, this space will spend most of the next seven or eight weeks getting ready for the release of the first of the films in the Sequel Trilogy, also known as the "It'll Never Happen Trilogy".  To that end, I'll be taking a look at all six of the films (yes, all six) as we head towards the release of the most eagerly-awaited film of the year.  Before I start that, though, I wanted to brush on an overview of the franchise, rather than try to address some points in the discussions of individual movies, since there are several points which come up again and again.

   I've already written a previous post here about the extra-cinematic universe, so I'm going to try and confine my pontificating to the on-screen entries in the official canon.

   Like pretty much everyone else in my generation, I saw the original Star Wars movies as a kid, but I was a little young to have seen the first two in theaters.  (Actually, the original film preceded me into the world by about a year.)  So I caught them on TV, and can still remember the awe I felt at some of the concepts...a space station that could obliterate a planet in a few seconds, or the precipitous spaces of a city in the clouds, or that Yoda sounded exactly like Grover.  I've been in love with the idea of lightsabers since I first saw one.  I didn't really get into the 'world' of Star Wars as such until later, in the late high school/early college span of my life, when the EU novels and a new line of action figures were coming out, and George Lucas was getting ready to re-release the original films in preparation of the forthcoming prequel trilogy.   From there, the rest, as they say, is history.

     It's always fascinated me how stories lead into other stories, and you can trace the influence of concepts across genres and decades.  Ever so often in modern popular fiction - maybe once every fifteen to twenty years, an idea takes hold and so resonates that it becomes a part off the cultural zeitgeist, and Star Wars may be the best example of that to date.  To my mind, the pattern starts with the creation of fantastical ideas as popular literature in Victorian times.  Poe might be a good starting point, leading to the late 19th-century explosion of horror, fantasy, mystery and sci-fi...Stoker, Doyle, Verne, Wells, Lovecraft, etc., into the period of pulp/radio drama/early film serials (The Shadow, Flash Gordon, etc.), into the birth of the superheroes, into the popularization of high fantasy (Narnia, Middle-Earth ), into the dawn of pure science-fiction (Asimov & co) reaching its apex in Star Trek, and then from there into Star Wars.  And for the record, I feel it's certainly continued, with the explosion of toy concepts in the '80s and video games of the '90s, and into Harry Potter.  Star Wars is both the logical extrapolation of the development of the imaginative genres of fiction that came before, and also the cultural pinnacle that has clearly influenced so much of what's come since.  It's a blend of the best of science fiction and fantasy - mystical religions and warrior monks combined with spaceships, alien planets and lasers.  Its concepts are not entirely original, but something about Star Wars just gelled, striking a chord like few other ideas have.  It's Force Lightning in a bottle.

The full main cast, Classic and Prequel, save the departed Alec Guinness and Peter Cushing.

     Of course, none of this would have been possible without George Lucas.  As a young film-maker and peer/friend of the most influential directors of the second half of the 20th century...Scorsese, Coppola, and Spielberg... Lucas' love of the fantastical and vast imagination led him to tap into the core of the the adventure story, with all of its tropes and types, and create something fully iconic.  It's easy to see where Star Wars draws from...if you haven't seen it, I recommend watching the Kurosawa film Hidden Fortress to see a very clear influence, as just one example.  Lucas managed to make a world that was beholden to what came before and yet devise something entirely his own.  I don't think that's always as easy to do as people think, and I feel like people underestimate often Lucas' achievement.  The hero-on-a-quest, the bumbling sidekicks, the dashing rogue, the princess, the wise mentor, the black-clad villain, etc, etc....none of these are original to Star Wars, but yet somehow, I think you'll find that they have come to define their own archetypes.  I think there's a lot of credit due Lucas for that.

   I also think Lucas is a phenomenal storyteller.  (I am drawing a very definite distinction between 'storyteller' and 'writer', though - more on this in a minute.)  His characters are clear and memorable, and the story manages to reach Shakespearean proportions...and yes, I'm being serious with that comparison.  On a conceptual level, Anakin Skywalker and his family, are very much in keeping with the great tragic protagonists.  Lucas's work is visually stunning, with incredible set pieces, props, costumes and aliens that dazzle.  From a visual perspective, the narratives flow with grace and style.  I have a theory that the Star Wars movies - all of them - would work beautifully as silent movies, accompanied only by John Williams' magnificent scores.   In all seriousness, try to picture any of the movies, whatever you may think of them, without the dialogue, and just try to picture how the movie would unfold onscreen accompanied only by the music.  You'd be able to follow them just fine, as would, I contend, someone not already familiar with the story.  I wish I had the means to test this theory.  It cannot be argued that Lucas has imagination, and both the desire and means to put the images in his head on screen.

"Yes, Sir Alec, I know you hate it, but look at it like this - fifty years from now, people not yet born will watch Bridge on the River Kwai purely because they know you as Obi-Wan.  So stop being so friggin' ungrateful."

     Now, that said...

    "You know that little voice people have that tells them to quit when they're ahead?  You don't have one, do you?"

    George Lucas is an excellent storyteller and conceptualizer.  He is, however, a pretty lousy writer, and at best a mediocre director.  He is also, I suspect, fairly convinced of his own perceived genius.  I guess when you're responsible for a huge hit, and you allow yourself to fall into the stereotypical Hollywood image of wealth and influence, you start to believe your own hype.  From there, it becomes something of a vicious cycle, as you become further insulated from reality, and more shielded from (and strangely, more hurt by) criticism, to the point where you find yourself stumbling around in a bewildered haze, declaiming at length to a hallucinogenic, bug-eyed floppy-eared pseudo-Caribbean cartoon character about how no, really, Greedo always shot first.

      At least, that's what I imagine to be the case.

     George Lucas wrote and directed the original Star Wars film, as well as the prequel trilogy.  Most fans, however, will point to the latter two films in the original trilogy as better, more solid work, and I think the reason for this is clear:  Lucas had to work with others.  He's been on the record frequently talking about how he felt limited by the technology of the time and had to make compromises along the way, but honestly, I think that was for the best.  The compromises he says he had to make have forced him to collaborate and listen, so to speak, and invent new ways to go about getting his ideas out there.  Often, that came through a filter...in the form of Lawrence Kasdan or Irvin Kershner, for example, or from oversight from the studio.  It's pretty clear that Lucas is not an actor's director...quite frankly, I've long suspected that Lucas views actors as a necessary evil that he'd like nothing more than to be done with so he can go home and play with his computer.  Honestly, I think if Lucas could have disposed with actors entirely, he would have.  I think not having the technology in the late '70s and early '80s to rely on CGI forced him to rely on the actors, which ended up in better performances and more memorable characters than Lucas at his own devices would have given us.

Hokey dialogue and midi-chlorians are no match for a good blaster at your side.

    The biggest problem with the prequel trilogy is that Lucas couldn't get out of his own way, and no one tried to stop him.  By that point, he was so revered that whatever he said went, and it wasn't until the first two movies in the new trilogy got so badly drubbed that he finally started listening to advice for the final entry.  With the original series, he was forced to heed editors, and constantly had to revise his ideas, whereas with the prequels, whatever popped into his head tumbled onto the page regardless of the wisdom therein.  I don't think there was any actor/director development in the prequels...if the actors weren't committed, they weren't given guidance, and it shows.  The dialogue is rough and in many cases, flat out awful, the chemistry is lacking, and the heart and charm that so enlivened the original films is entirely lacking - but the visuals are as stunning as ever - and I contend the blame for all of this can be laid at the feet of Lucas.  His "I know best" attitude coupled with disinterest and an over-inflated belief in his own directorial talent led to an absolute mess, and it was aided and abetted by 'suits' interested only in the potential profits.  (If you care to, look at some of the interviews from the era of the prequels, and if you can find me a more sycophantic, egregiously self-important yes-man than Rick McCallum, I'll be very impressed.)  When Lucas has the benefit of cooler heads that can temper his impulses, we get better product.  When Lucas is allowed to run amok, well, weesa see what happens.

    There's also the question of artistic credibility.  I remain somewhat torn as to whether or not an artist, author, creator, etc, has the 'right' to go back and alter their works, whatever their motivation.  On the one hand, it's their work, and if they feel it's not what they wanted, then an argument could be made for allowing the ability to correct what they feel is a miss.  On the other hand, STOP BLOODY TINKERING - YOU'RE MAKING IT WORSE!!!   When the films were re-released in 1997, they featured not only some cleaning up of the sound and picture, but also some outright changes to the films.  Some of these, I loved, such as the addition of Ian McDiarmid as the proper Emperor into his one scene in Episode V, or the celebrations around the galaxy at the end of Episode VI.  Some I disliked (the Han vs. Greedo thing has just become absurd, moreso as I still have the original VHS releases of the movies and can disprove Lucas' idiotic assertions), and some are just plain questionable.  I was content to allow Lucas to fix and adjust a few things to bring them in line with the prequels and to polish up a few effects that were sloppy or dated or just off.  It'd been twenty years, and I was OK with a bit of a brush-up.  The problem is, he keeps doing it - there have been at least two subsequent re-releases, and every time he's still mucking about, as though he just cannot get out of his own way.  (Movie-making tip:  It's never, ever necessary to add a character screaming "NOOOOOOOOO!" over the existing audio track.)  I don't think Lucas does it for the money, though - I think he does it because he just gets these bizarre impulses, along the lines of "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if..." and up until recently, no one stopped him.  Ultimately, whether such adjustments are accepted depends on the author and the work.  Some writers can continue to spend their lives contributing to their own oeuvre, enhancing and deepening it with respect and pride (such as Professor Tolkien), whereas others seem to be so madly in love with getting attention that they simply cannot learn to shut the hell up (I'm looking at you, J.K. Rowling).  Quite frankly, I think Lucas is closer to the darker end of the spectrum, and I really hope he'll be forbidden from further dabbling.

"Go on, make another Jar Jar joke.  I dare you."

  When all was said and done, we ended up with three iconic films, another reasonably decent one, two of debatable merit, and an incredible five-and-a-half season animated series under Lucas' stewardship, so he's batting better than .500, at least.  I can't fault the man entirely - he is the font and wellspring that birthed Star Wars, after all, and he's also as big a fan of the franchise as most of the rest of us.  And there are some elements of the prequels to like, which I'll get into in subsequent posts.  But frankly, I'm kind of relieved that he's no longer shepherding the saga.  In 2012, Lucas sold off the property to Disney, putting the Mouse firmly in control of Star Wars' future...hence the new trilogy, the new spin-off movies, the new animated series, etc.

    Of course, that's a whole different can of worms.  I think what we've seen so far of Episode VII is promising and exciting, but I know there are people who have doubts.  Some feel that without Lucas' direct involvement, the movie is doomed.  Some mistrust J.J. Abrams.  Some mistrust Disney, which I can certainly understand.  We'll see what comes of it.  Personally, I'm extremely excited; as much as I mourn the loss of certain elements of the Star Wars lore, I'm really intrigued to see what comes next.  I'm also excited about new ideas...I love looking at the new creatures (some of which are incredibly toyetic), and if the EU is gone, well, then...please, tell me what happened instead!  What happened to Threepio's arm?  Who is Kylo Ren?  Where is Luke Skywalker?  And so forth.

   So, starting with the next blog, we'll take a look at the movies.  I'm going to do this in narrative order, not order of release.  That way, I get the benefit of building weaker to stronger, and can slide right from Return of the Jedi into whatever the future may hold in December, when The Force Awakens opens.  I hope you'll stick around, as I tour the pillars of the Star Wars universe, and revisit the iconic legends of the past before we turn to the future, and boldly go where no one has gone before...

    ....crud, maybe I do need to refresh my memory after all...

Coming soon:  a look at Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace

REVIEW: Spectre (James Bond #24)

     The dead are alive.

     So the opening of the new James Bond film, Spectre, the 24th official entry in the series, informs us.  It's a theme that runs throughout the movie.  Let's take a look - but be warned, there will be SPOILERS in this blog entry...given the film's whole premise, they'd be hard to avoid (or not to guess) anyway.

Gee...the bullet hole pattern looks kind of familiar...I wonder if that's on purpose???

     Two things I need to get out of the way right off the bat:  First of all, I rather enjoyed the movie.  It's James Bond, which is usually a big plus anyway, and they largely get it right.   Secondly, this movie is not Skyfall.  And I mention that just because Skyfall, the preceding film in the series, absolutely blew me away.  It raised the bar for the franchise, making that entry one of the top three in the series and establishing itself as not only a good James Bond movie, but also a good movie regardless of genre.  The problem with raising the bar on something is that everything else has to work a little bit harder, and I couldn't help but feel that Spectre didn't get to Skyfall's levels.

    That being said, that 'failing' isn't necessarily Spectre's fault, as it'd be tough to top Skyfall.  So I don't wish to be unduly fair to Spectre because it's not a different movie.  I did have a couple of issues with Spectre on its own, though.

    For one thing, Spectre has the longest running time of a Bond film to date, and it doesn't need to.  There are some pacing problems in the movie, especially in the second act, and there are a number of scenes that sort of sit there like an unkempt neighbor that you wish would just clean up or move away.  Several of these scenes feature Lea Seydoux's Dr. Madeline Swann, who is a decent enough character...no shrinking violet her...but whom I found lacking in chemistry with Bond.  Frankly, their whole romance seemed forced, even more so than by the standards of the usual formula, and I just didn't buy an emotional involvement.   As a result, a lot of her screen time with Bond dragged on the film - which is a pity, as Dr. Swann is otherwise a fairly well-written character.  Strangely, Monica Bellucci, about whom so much ink was spilled because she's the oldest Bond girl to date (which is kind of a silly thing to harp on, because she's gorgeous anyway), is dramatically underused, appearing for only about five minutes of the movie.

   Another issue I had was a kind of discord within the movie as to what it wanted to be.  Skyfall represented more of a return to form to classic Bond...despite the serious ramifications and terrifying villain, it went back to more of the elements that make Bond fun, that had been largely absent in Craig's first two outings.  Spectre continues on that, but I couldn't help but feel Craig was trying to play Bond more seriously than was warranted, at least at points.  It felt to me that the movie was trying to inject some levity into itself at points, and then kept swinging back to a more angst-filled reality.  Either approach would have been fine, but it struck me that there was a disconnect, especially with Craig, as to what the movie was supposed to be.  The whole thematic point of the movie - the dead lingering or returning - was heavy handed at times, and I couldn't help but feel Craig was trying to do an Ibsen play amidst the quips and explosions.  It made the movie feel uneven, and I think that contributed to some of the pacing problems, as well.

   One other semi-gripe - I wasn't crazy about Sam Smith's theme song, "Writing's on the Wall" - part dirge, part Lite-FM ballad, it's slow, boring and ponderous, and I find Smith's falsetto obnoxious.  I will say that the opening credits - featuring Bond amidst a tangle of inky octopus imagery and the shattered ghosts of his past - were very, very cool, despite the underwhelming musical accompaniment.

"To kill or not to kill, that is the question, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to die another day, or just beat the living daylights out of everyone..."

   OK, now that I've said all that - the movie has a lot going for it.  While I do think Craig does come across as ready to move on from the role, he's still a great Bond and has managed to make the character his own while still falling in line with what we've come to know, love, and expect from 007.  Spectre joins the three preceding entries as a definite 'series' - four movies telling one story about the evolution, or re-evolution, of a beloved character, with thematic continuity but a fresh take.  There are several solid action sequences in the film, the best of which is actually the film's opening, set in Mexico City during Dia de Muertos, with skeletons abounding (and handily setting up the 'dead are alive' motif) and culminating in an extremely well done fight aboard an out-of-control helicopter.  There are several visual or verbal nods to the classic films throughout - a fight sequence aboard a train highly reminiscent of  From Russia With Love, a torture scene that calls back to Goldfinger, an alpine location which evokes On Her Majesty's Secret Service - even a glimpse of Bond's living arrangement, which we've only seen once before - in an admittedly different style - in Live and Let Die.

  Craig is front and center, but the supporting cast gets some choice bits, and Bond's traditional allies - M (Ralph Fiennes), Moneypenny (Naomie Harris), Q (Ben Whishaw) and Tanner (Rory Kinnear) actually get some action time, contributing more to the plot then just office support, for a change.   (Felix Leiter is mentioned, but does not appear.)   Judi Dench's M, though sadly departed, does still have an influence on the film, her presence reinforcing the presence of the dead and setting up much of Bond's motivation.  Andrew Scott, perhaps best known as Moriarty on Sherlock, plays "C", a governmental rival of M's who also underscores the 'dead are alive' image, casting the #00 program as an ancient relic needing to be exorcised...and indeed, much of the movie's climax revolves around the ruins of the MI6 building in a physical exploration of this.  As mentioned, Lea Seydoux and Monica Bellucci are both interesting characters as the new 'Bond Girls', and Dave Bautista plays a hulking, largely silent Spectre henchman very much in the vein of classic goons like Oddjob or Jaws.

The director and main cast - Scott, Fiennes, Harris, Sam Mendes, Seydoux, Craig, Bellucci, Waltz, Whishaw

   However, the most interesting part of the cast for me, for two reasons, was Christoph Waltz.  I've become a fan of his...I think I'd actually be willing to watch him read the phone book, in that gleefully dry, slightly unhinged, sardonic-but-I-love-my-life way of his.   I was quite excited to learn that he'd be in the movie, though puzzled to hear that he'd be playing "Oberhauser", a character who's really just a footnote in the Fleming Bond novels - a now-deceased mentor of Bond's.

   The other reason I was interested, though, was more about a theory as to what was actually going on in the film.  Bond fans will of course remember the organization SPECTRE from Connery days, being the 1960s version of the 'ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world', with its secretive mad genius overlord, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, being the 'big bad' in three separate entries in the series, and appearing in the shadows in several other films.  Due to a legal battle, however, SPECTRE and its related characters were disallowed from the film series around the time of Sean Connery's departure from the series, and have not officially been seen since.  The organization Quantum was intended to serve as a modern-day stand-in.  However, not all that along ago, it was announced that the legal issues had been settled, so I assumed that Bond's old nemeses would be returning to the big screen...needless to say, when the title of this movie was announced, that was revealed to be a pretty safe assumption (though no longer as an acronym).

   Which brings me back to Waltz.  Because it became painfully obvious that "Oberhauser" was just a dodge, of a sort  (As I mentioned, SPOILERS, even if they're blatantly obvious), I suspected Waltz would in fact be playing Blofeld in Spectre.  The clues were all there - from Waltz's early appearance as a shadowy figure seated at a table around which the heads of Spectre reported on their activities, to his vaguely Nehru jacket, to the white cat, all before Waltz revealed his true identity.  That he ends up getting the same scar as the one Donald Pleasance bore was a nice touch, but yes - Waltz is Blofeld.  Fortunately, while his reveal as the mysterious "But who am I really?" villain of the piece is quite similar to Khan in Star Trek: Into Darkness or Talia in the Dark Knight Rises, at least here we don't have to play games.  It's an obvious development, but a welcome one.  So having Waltz play Bond's arch-enemy is a real treat.

   Of course, Blofeld's plot in the movie does strain credulity - we're given to understand that all of the bad events affecting Bond over the past three films in the rebooted franchise, including the plots of the villains Le Chiffre, Mr. White, Dominic Greene and Raoul Silva, and the deaths of Vesper Lynd and M, are all due to Blofeld's harboring a decades-old grudge that Oberhauser Sr. (Blofeld's natural father and Bond's guardian) liked Bond better.  So Blofeld puts together a master plan and a globe-spanning evil organization, which is currently also involved in gaining control of a master worldwide surveillance program for...reasons....all because Daddy apparently didn't love him as much.  It is a little silly...but frankly, classic Blofeld didn't exactly have all that much in the way of motivation beyond "MWA-HA-HA", so I can't really fault Spectre for this.  And it doesn't hurt that in classic tradition, Blofeld's super-secret lair is a technological marvel hidden inside an abandoned crater.  (Once again - the dead, in this case Oberhauser, is alive.  See?  Thematic consistency!)

This is classic Blofeld.  This is the character Waltz is re-introducing, and NOT, as one idiot teenager I heard stated, Dr. Evil.

 The movie ends with Blofeld in custody - wisely unkilled by Bond - M's unit still fully intact, and James Bond retrieving his vintage, newly-rebuilt Aston Martin to drive off with Dr. Swann.  The ghosts have been laid to rest, that which should be dead is buried and that which should be alive is all fine and dandy.  All of the classic elements have been re-introduced, and that bring us to the standard status quo...which in the universe of Bond, is as it should be.  We've gotten a four-picture span giving us the modern re-invention of Bond, and this is actually a pretty good stepping off place for Craig.  If he does choose to move on now, I think that'd be fine, as I'm not sure what more he'd really need to do with the character.  There's no need to reboot - a modern Bond is now well established, and the rest of the cast can remain and allow a new lead actor to take over the reins.

   So Spectre serves as a decent enough entry in the series.  It's probably on par with Casino Royale - not as good as Skyfall, but nowhere near the disappointment that was Quantum of Solace.  It's engaging, brings back classic Bond baddies, has all the proper elements, and leaves us with a nice tidy bow of a story, but still has somewhere to go, if needed.  It is very much a 'Bond film', even if it's not entirely sure what kind of Bond film it wants to be, but it's effective, entertaining, and fun all the same.

James Bond's skeletal disguise looms over his classic image, so I guess it's true what they say...You Only Live Twice, Mr. Bond.

    FINAL RATING: 7 PAWS (OUT OF 10)