Public Enemies
Since crime auteur Michael Mann, like his protagonists, plays by his own rules, Public Enemies eschews back story and motivation for a closely-observed, action-packed examination of men at work. FBI supremo J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup) kick-starts a nationwide manhunt when he proclaims John Dillinger (Johnny Depp, in top form) Public Enemy #1. Hoover taps Agent Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale) to bring the Tommy Gun-toting bank robber in by any means necessary (the agency also targets Pretty Boy Floyd and Baby Face Nelson). If Dillinger had split the scene then and there, he might have enjoyed a happier fate, but he falls for beautiful coat-check girl Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard, whose open-hearted performance makes her the most sympathetic character in the film). In the end, though, Dillinger is the captain of his own destiny: his loyalty to his girl and his gang overpowers his desire to live free. Though the director also set his first film, Thief, and third series, Crime Story, in his native Chicago, Public Enemies plays more like Heat in Depression-era garb. In that L.A. policier, Al Pacino’s cop develops a grudging respect for Robert De Niro’s criminal, but letting a lawbreaker go free isn’t an option. In this case, however, the tight-lipped Purvis never develops the same sort of esteem for Dillinger–or Hoover–making him the more tragic figure. If Public Enemies is less overtly commercial than The Untouchables or Bugsy, it’s still the best mainstream gangster epic in ages and ranks among Mann’s finest works.
9
Nine small rag dolls, stitched together from burlap and clock workings and lenses, are all that stands in the way of the world being overtaken by the Machines. Actually, as 9 begins, it looks like the Machines have already had their way with Earth: this is one of those post-apocalyptic landscapes without life, hope, or sunlight. Clearly 9 director Shane Acker is willing to make an animated film that doesn’t soar with Disney colors or Pixar cheer–in fact, main characters are killed off before the movie’s halfway through. Our hero is 9 (voiced by Elijah Wood), so dubbed for the number on his back; after awakening to very confused consciousness, he bumps into other puppet survivors, such as the imperious 1 (Christopher Plummer), the warrior-like 7 (Jennifer Connelly), and the one-eyed comic sidekick 5 (John C. Reilly). They do battle with the Machines in a relentless (and eventually monotonous) series of battles, and the exploding hardware and endless warfare has a tendency to crowd out whatever character development might have been set up in the opening minutes. No question the movie’s design is impressive, and the characters have a wonderfully expressive quality at first. But at some point it seems the Machines have taken over the moviemaking here, with tedious results.
Zombieland
If there’s been a zombie apocalypse and you’re road-tripping alone though the wasteland, you could do worse than run into Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), a bourbon-swilling bad-boy butt-kicker with a really cool car. This is where the careful hero of Zombieland, a kid nicknamed Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), finds himself early in the film, and you can hardly blame him for hitching a ride with this swaggering Alpha Male. Still, they have their hands full not only with gibbering zombies but also with two sisters (Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin) who will stop at nothing to reach a Disneyland-like amusement park in L.A. Although Zombieland gets off to a rocky start with Columbus’s overly-cute narration (he’s got a list of rules for surviving in the zombie world), it settles into an amusing comedy, regularly interrupted by bouts of blood-letting. The road-trip stuff is enough fun that when the movie does arrive at its version of Disneyland, the air goes out of it a little; sure, there’s a giant zombie blowout, with entrails flying, but it’s not quite the same. Director Ruben Fleischer keeps the gags coming, although the movie is often funnier in its odd little asides (both Eisenberg and Harrelson are expert at this) than in its official jokes. Comic high point: an interlude at the home of a very famous movie star, who plays himself–and we’ll leave the spoiler unspoiled, in case anybody hasn’t heard about this funny extended cameo.
Logan’s Run
If you can stifle the urge to laugh at its pastel unisex costumes and futuristic shopping-mall décor, this extravagant science fiction film from 1976 is still visually fascinating and provocatively entertaining. Set in the year 2274, when ecological disaster has driven civilization to the protection of domed cities, the story revolves around a society that holds a ceremonial death ritual for all citizens who reach the age of 30. In a diseaseless city where free sex is encouraged and old age is virtually unknown, Logan (Michael York) is a “sandman,” one who enforces this radical method of population control (but he’s about to turn 30 and he doesn’t want to die). Escaping from the domed city via a network of underground passages, Logan is joined by another “runner” named Jessica (Jenny Agutter), while his former sandman partner (Richard Jordan) is determined to terminate Logan’s rebellion. Using a variety of splendid matte paintings and miniatures, Logan’s Run earned a special Oscar for visual effects (images of a long-abandoned Washington, D.C., are particularly impressive), and in addition to fine performances by Jordan and Peter Ustinov, the film features ’70s poster babe Farrah Fawcett in a cheesy supporting role. Jerry Goldsmith’s semi-electronic score is still one of the prolific composer’s best, and Logan’s Run remains an interesting example of ’70s sci-fi that preceded Star Wars by less than a year.
The Invention Of Lying
It’s official: Ricky Gervais is a genius. He may not have cured cancer or discovered a new branch of mathematics, but having created The Office, Extras, and now The Invention of Lying has secured him a place in the history of comedy. The Invention of Lying imagines a world in which everyone unfailingly tells the truth; they don’t even know what fiction is. Every thought, however humiliating or harsh, tumbles out unvarnished. Then one day, a desperate unemployed writer named Mark (Gervais) concocts a lie–and in a world where everyone is unfailingly honest, a lie is believed with total and absolute gullibility. Mark can get anything he wants…but the one thing he truly wants is the love of a girl named Anna (Jennifer Garner, Alias, Juno), and she’s the one person he can’t bring himself to lie to.The Invention of Lying balances a brilliant overall idea with inspired comic bits and deft cameo turns by a star-studded cast (among the many famous faces in bit roles are Philip Seymour Hoffman, Edward Norton, Jason Bateman, Christopher Guest, Tina Fey, Jeffrey Tambor, and more). The second half of the movie, which follows Mark’s romantic pursuit of Anna, isn’t quite as marvelous as the gradual unfolding of the situation and Mark’s grappling with his strange new ability, but that doesn’t keep the movie from being a unique and dazzling comedy. Simply not to be missed. Also featuring comedian Louis C.K., Rob Lowe, and Jonah Hill.
Big Buck Bunny
Armored
A good cast does its best to make Armored roll, but while this heist flick certainly has its moments, it’s ultimately arrested by a predictable story, cliché-ridden dialogue, and ham-fisted direction. Matt Dillon plays Mike, the leader of a sextet of guards working for an armored truck company; other members of the team are portrayed by Laurence Fishburne, Jean Reno, Skeet Ulrich, and Amaury Nolasco, but the key is newcomer Ty (Columbus Short), an Iraq War veteran whose parents have both died, leaving Ty to support his troubled younger brother and somehow pay the mortgage on the home their folks left behind. When Mike and the others cook up a scheme to steal a cool $42 million on their next delivery and then claim they were hijacked, Ty is dead set against it–until he goes home and is greeted by a child-welfare official who threatens to put his brother into foster care unless Ty can prove himself capable of looking after the kid (this is but one of the handy plot conveniences designed to push the story forward). Predictability is one thing, but director Nimrod Antal and screenwriter James V. Simpson’s setups are so on-the-nose that Helen Keller could see what’s coming (”Promise me nobody gets hurt,” Ty says to Mike, which guarantees that the body count will start to mount almost instantly). Armored has some good action sequences, a gritty look, a couple of welcome surprises, and the occasional tense moment. But when the great heist movies are recalled, from Topkapi to Sexy Beast, this one is unlikely to be among them.
