Disney’s Frozen borrows ideas from Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen and follows closely in the footsteps of Tangled before it, but it’s also a bit more. For one thing, there’s an interesting sister dynamic at play here. One royal daughter, Anna (voiced by Kristen Bell), is the care-free sort, while the older daughter Elsa (Wicked‘s Idina Menzel) is born with a curse – the power to turn things into ice. After a childhood display of her magical powers nearly kills Anna, Elsa hides herself away for fear of hurting anyone. That’s all prelude. The story proper takes off when Anna inadvertently upsets Elsa on her coronation day. When the citizens of Arendelle discover their queen is a sorceress, they freak, she freaks, and a hard snow comes to fall. Elsa flees the kingdom and builds an ice castle for herself on the side of a mountain, leaving it up to little sister to later beg her for a return to warmer times.
Katharine Isabelle (Ginger Snaps) puts in a solid performance as a student surgeon whose life takes a serendipitous turn into the underground world of extreme body modification in Jen and Sylvia Soska’s American Mary. After one odd surgery procures her some much-needed cash, her name is quickly bandied about the message boards of people who are into things like… horns, tails, split tongues, appendage swaps… you name it, really. One character in the film is trying to look as close to a living Barbie doll as possible, and asks Isabelle’s character to surgically remove her nipples and genitalia (as much as possible). Another is trying to look and sound like Betty Boop. What’s most interesting about American Mary is that it sheds light on a real-life subculture that most people would find interesting and perhaps a little frightening. But the Soska Sisters (who wrote and directed the feature together) paint their subjects in a flattering, sympathetic light. That’s not to say the Soskas don’t take advantage of the sensational potential here — they just do it with respect.
Gravity is so harrowing, I’m tempted to call it crisis porn. The movie stars Sandra Bullock and George Clooney as astronauts stranded in orbit over Earth after debris destroys their spacecraft. Director Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, A Little Princess) warns us from the get-go with some on-screen text that life in space is impossible, and then proceeds to throw everything you can imagine at Bullock and Clooney’s characters. They’ve got dwindling oxygen supplies, they’ve got the debris looping back around at them every ninety minutes, their spacesuits are running out of propulsion, and their connection to Huston has gone dark. There are the threats of burning alive, freezing to death, drowning, and slipping into coma. They see other members of their crew frozen solid, flesh exposed to the vacuum of space — one guy with a tidy hole clean through his head.
Future Oscar-winner (I’ve been saying this since 2001’s Manic) Joseph Gordon-Levitt makes an auspicious writing/directing debut with Don Jon, a character study of a young New Jersey guy whose addiction to pornography takes its toll on his relationships with women. Gordon-Levitt pumped up to play the title character, but I hope he drops the muscle mass soon — his head’s too small for a body that big! The film is superbly cast. Scarlett Johansson impresses me for the first time ever here, playing a sex-pot who knocks Jon off his feet. Tony Danza and Glenne Headly are great as Jon’s parents, and the ever-reliable Julianne Moore is memorable as a quirky but sullen older woman who competes for Jon’s affections as the story wears on.
Against a backdrop of the Bangkok underground fighting scene, a reticent drug smuggler (Ryan Gosling) is caught in a vicious cycle of brutal revenge after his brother is murdered for committing rape. Only God Forgives plays out like a fever dream, a far more operatic and surreal effort from writer/director Nicolas Winding Refn than his earlier mainstream hit, Drive. There is precious little dialogue, hyper-stylized photography, a brash score by Cliff Martinez, and a willful tendency to blur the line between reality and the characters’ imaginations.
In this home invasion horror flick from writer Simon Barrett and director Adam Wingard (V/H/S), a group of animal-masked killers armed with crossbows and axes begin preying on a wealthy family coming together for the parents’ anniversary. The film spends a generous twenty minutes or so getting you acquainted with the family — including three sons, a daughter, and everyone’s significant others. But then the shit hits the fan, and it pretty much keeps hitting it for over an hour. You’re Next isn’t a drastic departure from formula, but it has a few surprises in store. If it took itself too seriously, it’d be easier to write it off as just another home invasion movie. But with its tongue-in-cheek humor and increasingly hyper-stylized execution (no pun intended), it reminds me of a good old-fashioned ’80s slasher/revenge movie. Is it derivative or classic? You decide — but nostalgia goes a long way with me.
