RED TAILS

Reviewed by Patrick Gibbs

 GRADE: B -
David Oyelowo, Nate Parker, Tristan Wilds, Ne-Yo, Daniela Ruah, Bryan Cranston,
with Cuba Gooding, Jr. and Terrence Howard
Executive Producer George Lucas
Story by John Ridley
Screenplay by John Ridley and Aaron MacGruder
Directed by Anthony Hemingway

First off, in writing this review, I feel that I need to state where I stand on George Lucas, because for many dedicated film fans, your opinion of the original Jedi Master is likely to impact the attitude you have going into the movie, and continue as you watch it.

Like most fans, I have been disappointed by Lucas on more than one occasion (for me, it started with the Star Wars Special Editions.). The name that was once synonymous with movie magic has definitely lost some it's luster. But unlike many, I can't bring myself to hate George. I still think he has an undeniable visual flair and enthusiasm that he brings to each project, and while he has made some very bad decisions, unlike many fans, I believe those decisions were his to make. So while I am puzzled by the people who look surprised and say “You thought Jar Jar was annoying? Really?” I also do not agree with the crowd that has declared Lucas to be the cinematic anti-Christ and think he has ruined their childhood.

Red Tails is the last of the big, long in development Lucas projects – for those of us who read his biography, Skywalking, as kids aspiring to make movies, we have been waiting for his take on the story of The Tuskegee Airmen for a very long time. The question is, was it worth the wait?

The story beings in Italy, where black pilots who trained in Tuskegee, Tennessee are given old, banged up P-40's, and kept to light duty – the closest these guys get to any action is blowing up a few trucks or trains, not dog fighting or any of the combat missions they expected. The group is made up of the stock characters from this kind of move: Joe “Lightning” Little (David Oyelowo, last scene as the villain in Rise of the Planet of the Apes) is Maverick from Top Gun, the cocky but brilliant young aviator with a chip on his shoulder who needs to let it go and realize his full potential so he can be the best damn pilot the military has ever seen yadda yadda yadda. His best friend and squad leader, Marty “Easy” Julian, is an overachiever pushed by a overly demanding father, and he has been driven to drink at a young age to deal with his self doubt. The young guy, Ray “Junior” Gannon (Tristan Wilds), is Radar O'Reilly from M*A*S*H, except he carries a Buck Rodgers pistol instead of a Teddy Bear. And then we have the token religious guy, who carries a picture of “Black Jesus”which he speaks to frequently, and everyone else is meant to be comic relief.

Just when these guys are about to resign themselves to the fact that they are reduced to “mop up” missions, and that they may soon lose that if some of the top brass has its way, “The Old Man,” Colonel A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard) stands up to the man and gets his flyers assigned to their first real mission, which they pull off spectacularly. Soon, they are assigned to bomber escort, where the Red Tails distinguish themselves by following orders and, unlike previous squadrons, stay with their bombers and don't fall for the distraction of chasing German fighters to go for the glory and rack up notches on their kill ratio. It's not long before the Red Tails are the talk of the Air Corps, and because of what they did, and the respect these men earned, there would never again be any discrimination in the United States Armed Forces, or America in general, and not only would we one day have a black President, but there is certainly no way anyone would ever be so ignorant and unenlightened as to publicly demand to see his birth certificate.

Seeing these men overcome racism and earn respect is obviously enjoyable, but it is glossed over quickly and plays as something that comes far too easily. The movie is filled with cheesy dialogue that is so straightforward and on the nose that at times it's almost embarrassing. In addition, the romantic subplot between Lightning and a local Italian girl (Daniela Ruah), is about as compelling and convincing as a Nicolas Cage marriage. It's a shame that with so many compelling stories to be told, especially a great subplot involving one of the men getting captured and placed in a P.O.W. Camp, that this intrusive and tacked on romance gets in the way of what is otherwise a briskly paced film that is entertaining enough to overcome it's shortcomings (and there are many, not the least of which is the musical score, which can't decide if it is going for Captain America, Top Gun or Shaft.).

Despite it's flaws, this movie actually does have a lot going for it. It's packed with action, and the aerial combat sequences are truly dazzling. The computer generated visual effects here are far more convincing than most of what we saw in the Star Wars prequels or Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull (which, for the record, I still like), and actually may represent some of the the most impressive seen in a Lucas film since the original Star Wars trilogy – these don't look like cartoons, they look like real airplanes, doing real stunts (even if some of them are aerodynamically impossible.). Also, while the characterizations are weak, much of the cast does an admirable job of trying to rise above the dialogue. Oyelowo in particular has a star charisma that leads me to believe he has a real future, and Terrence Howard is still one of the most engaging actors working today. Every time he is on screen he brings such an intensity and earnestness that it lifts up the quality of the film several notches. Fairing worst are Cuba Gooding, Jr, who seems to have been told “You can have a character or a pipe – not both. You choose” and the incredibly talented Bryan Cranston (Malcolm in the Middle, Breaking Bad), who is so silly as a a racist General that the best that ban be said is that his mustache is not quite long enough to twirl.).

Red Tails is not to be confused with Saving Private Ryan - it's more comparable to Memphis Belle. It's an entertaining thrill ride, and judging by the reactions at the two screenings I attended, a real crowd pleaser. This is a movie you can really pick apart, but the fact is, it plays, and it's a rousing and enjoyable time. Yes, there is a much deeper, realistic and meaningful film to be made out of this material. But at this point, if you were really expecting that from Lucas, you are deluding yourself. This is not even close to a great film. But it's a solid piece of entertainment, and I'm sure I'll own it on Blu-ray.

Red Tails is rated PG-13 for combat violence, profanity, and a few racial slurs.

THE ARTIST

Reviewed by Patrick Gibbs

GRADE: A +

Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, Penelope Ann Miller, John Goodman, James Cromwell and Malcolm McDowell

Written and Directed by Michel Hazanavicius

The movie everyone has been talking about is finally here. Is it brilliant? Is it a gimmick? Is the best film of last year, or an overrated, silly melodrama? 
 
Silent film star George Valentin (Dujardin) is posing for pictures at the premiere of his latest film, A Russian Affair, when a woman, Peppy Miller (Bejo), admiring Valentin while lost in a sea of adoring fans, drops her purse. She bends down to get it and is accidentally pushed into Valentin. She ends up photographed, and the next day, she is on the front page of Variety with the headline "Who's That Girl?" Later, Miller auditions as a dancer and is spotted by Valentin. He insists she have a part in his new film, despite objections from the studio boss, Al Zimmer (played by John Goodman.). Miller's star makes a meteoric rise, and soon she is something of a sensation.

Two years later, Zimmer announces the end of production of silent films, but Valentin insists that sound is just a fad. When Zimmer unloads all his silent stars, Valentin decides to produce and direct his own silent film, financing it himself. But as it happens, it opens on the very same day as Beauty Mark, the new Peppy Miller talkie. Is the silent film truly dead? And by extension, is Valentin destined to become a relic?

To categorize The Artist merely as a silent film is a bit misleading – it's a salute to the old fashioned silent film, but there is a delightful touch of surreal experimental-ism to it that transcends the genre. Director Hazanvicius takes full advantage of the fact that he is making a silent film in the sound era to create some truly magical moments. But none of them quite compare to the magical moment created by Bejo, a devastatingly engaging actress (who happens to also be Mrs. Hazanvicius.). The acclaim being given to Dujardin for his performance is well deserved, but for me, it was Bejo who made the biggest impression. Whenever the actress is on screen she commands the camera in a way I haven't seen in a while, particularly in a sequence wherein a yet to be famous Peppy wanders into Valentin's empty dressing room and sticks her am in his jacket sleeve, and using the jacket to mimic being embrace by the Hollywood star. Charlie Chaplin himself could not have gotten more out of this moment, and it manages to be cute, whimsical and very moving at the same time. This is a movie that revels in it's own simplicity, unashamedly presenting itself as an old fashioned melodrama, with story elements that might seem trite if they were not played with such sincerity. But underneath the simplicity are many complex layers, and the subtext of the movie only gets more meaningful upon repeat viewing. The beautiful black and white cinematography, and bouncy, captivating musical score by Ludovic Bource, set the scene and the period perfectly. A minor controversy has erupted over the usage of some music from Bernard Hermann's score for the Alfred Hitchcock classic Vertigo, with some saying the choice was uncreative and distracting, and famed Hollywood star Kim Novak comparing the usage of the music to rape (speaking of melodrama.). Truthfully, as an enthusiastic fan of Hitchcock, Hermann and film music itself, I have to honestly admit that I was so utterly swept up in the movie that I didn't even notice it after having seen the movie twice – it wasn't until I read about it that I even made the connection. This movie is that good. At the same time, if you go in expecting to see the wheel reinvented, you may walk away disappointed. This is a movie that knows what it wants to be and achieves greatness by being just that, not by trying to be anything else.

In the end, if there is one complaint I have with The Artist, it's that the story of Valentin's struggles in wrapped a little too neatly and easily in the end. But then again, this is a genre film. It's not just a movie – it's a movie of a movie. Hazanavicius gives us the happy ending that we expect and truly want to see, and it's a memorable one. The Artist ranks among the best films of 2011, and is a very welcome change of pace.

The Artist is rated PG-13 for mild peril, adult themes and a crude gesture.

THE IRON LADY

Reviewed by Paul Gibbs 
GRADE: C

Starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent
Screenplay by Abi Morgan

Directed by Phillidia Lloyd

Rated PG-13

There are two ways to approach a biographical film: attempt an an overview of the subject's entire life, much as a biographical book would do, or zero in on one significant event or period in the subject's life which offers perspective. By so badly failing at the former, The Iron Lady makes a powerful argument for the latter.

Meryl Streep offers a fine performance as former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, disappearing into the role and perfectly capturing Thatcher's voice and mannerisms. But the film, directed by Phillidia Lloyd (best known for previously directing Streep in Mama Mia), offers no depth or arc for the character. Rather than a compelling story, the viewer is merely subjected to a highlights reel of Thatcher's life and political career, interrupted frequently by conversations between Thatcher and her late husband Denis (Jim Broadbent), in the obligatory “old age make up” that we saw in J. Edgar.  In many ways this film is comparable to Clint Eastwood's biopic of just a few months ago, but, for all it's flaws, that at least managed give us a passing 

acquaintance with it's enigmatic characters.

Every important event is covered in a quick, glossy montage. Thatcher's election? Montage. Falkland Islands war? Montage. Thatcher's fall from power? Montage. This sequences are slick and briskly paced, making sure that The Iron Lady never really drags. But we don't get to know Thatcher the woman, or Thatcher the politician. The filmmakers seem to be going to great effort to create a non-partisan portrait, which would be admirable if it weren't so relentlessly bland. We're dealing with a major figure in world politics, one both beloved and controversial, and the most insight we're given into her personality or convictions is a young Margaret telling Denis that she “can't be one of those women who just stays in the kitchen.” Director Lloyd seems to lack the subtlety or attention span to delve deeper into any aspect of Thatcher's thoughts, emotions or relationships, and it's hard not to get the feeling that she'd be more comfortable if the debates in parliament lead into musical numbers.

But, of course, this movie isn't about it's director, it's about Meryl Streep. Audiences will see the film to marvel at her acting prowess, and question whether she's finally going to win that third Academy Award (while she's nominated nearly every year, it has been about 30 years since she last took home a statue). And it's certainly further evidence of how talented she is. But it's not only a one woman show, it's a fairly one-note one woman show. She's given little opportunity for nuance or variation, and the only scenes which contain emotion are a few of the sequences with Broadbent (his final scene is both one of the film's most effective and problematic). If I had an Oscar vote, I wouldn't hesitate to cast it in favor of Viola Davis in The Help over Streep's turn here.

The Iron Lady is really only worth your time if you're an anglophile or a devoted Meryl Streep fan. You'll gain more insight on Margaret Thatcher by reading her Wikipedia entry, and there's nothing you'll see in Streep's performance that you won't see in her Oscar clip.

The Iron Lady is Rated Pg 13 for profanity and adult themes.