Super

Rating: ***

James Gunn is a talented man when it comes to combining gross outs and belly laughs, a genre approach that Sam Raimi coined in Evil Dead 2 calling it “splat stick.” One would think that this approach would not bend easily to the superhero genre, which typically shirks blood and guts unless the hero on the marquee is named Punisher or Kick-Ass. But in the case of Super the hero is mentally deranged. What can you expect when the man in the mask is driven to crime-fighting after his wife leaves him for a local drug kingpin and looks suspiciously like The Office’s Dwight Schrute?

Gunn’s fingerprints on Super are apparent. When poor, old, down on his luck Frank (Rainn Wilson) realizes his wife has retuned to her life of drugs and is not coming back without a fight, Frank receives the finger of God. It’s not what you think, but rather a bunch of slimy tentacles that appear from nowhere, slice open his skull cap and pours the light of the universe directly into his brain. But whatever it is that happens to Frank, it inspires him to dress in a crappy, home-made red costume, arm himself with a plumbers’ wrench, and call himself the Crimson Bolt. His tough guy catchphrase: “Shut up, crime!”

But unlike, say, Batman, who thwarts super-villains like The Joker from turning Gotham City into an anarchists’ paradise of crime and debauchery, The Crimson Bolt runs the gamut from child molesters to people that cut in line at the movies. One of the fun bits about the film is that it enjoys the notion that, despite the mask, people still kind of recognize Frank as the Crimson Bolt. Usually the mask, or a secret identity period for that matter, is about suspension of disbelief. There’s none of that here though, odd duck Frank isn’t exactly subtle, and is even less concerned about security.

Speaking of The Joker, Frank’s arch-nemesis is Jacques played by Kevin Bacon. Bacon, of course, has experience playing the heavy in comic book movies, this past summer’s X-Men: First Class being a prime example, but it’s not like he’s required to be the Kingpin of Crime or something. Jacques is actually nothing more than a two-bit, three block dope dealer, but Gunn does a rather good job of making you forget that. In Frank’s world, he’s Lex Luthor. Or Green Goblin. Or Red Skull. Although Jacques isn’t out for world domination in the literal sense, he did take away Frank’s world, his beloved wife Sarah (Liv Tyler).

The other primary ingredient in Super’s recipe for superhero movie subversion is Ellen Page, who comes to be the Crimson Bolt’s sidekick, Bolty, AKA: Libby. First of all, can we reflect on how perfectly absurd it is for a grown woman to call herself Bolty, even in a comic book movie? Second, Page’s character may feel like a uninspired spin on the Hit Girl character from Kick-Ass, as in a profanity-spewing girl in a mask that likes violence, but Gunn’s too sly to straight up steal. Where as Frank has his issues, Libby becomes borderline derange when she learns his secret. Being Bolty becomes a weird form of psycho-sexual release for Libby, and Page, playing both to and against type, enjoys every minute of it.

But despite the startling originality in some aspects of the film, it still relies a bit too much on typical superhero standards. The typical three act structure of origin, training and battle is used, and the climactic scene is a big, winner take all fight between Frank, Bolty and Jacques’s army of not-so sharp shooters. I give Gunn credit enough to make a very compelling product, especially with the budgetary restrictions he worked with, but the film wasn’t grungy enough to sell the premise, and it wasn’t glossy enough to play as a Hollywood product. It should also go without saying that this is a superhero movie not for the easily squeamish.

Still, the originality of the film cannot be denied and the actors all do a great job of investing themselves in the script and selling their roles. With studios still churning out superhero flicks on a regular schedule, I hope more filmmakers follow Gunn’s example and undermine the genre. “Shut up, Crime!” is a rallying call we can all get behind.

TIFF Review - Whip It!

Rating: ***1/2

Drew Barrymore has made some interesting choices a producer whether shepherding Charlie’s Angels to becoming a camp hit or championing something small and more potent like Donnie Darko. As a director, making her first film, she doesn’t stray too far from the things that have worked for her in the past: romance, comedy and a none-to-subtle message about girl power. Whip It! catches the of the moment revival of roller derby, which has recently evolved into the latest cutting edge indie sport du jour, faster and harder hitting than its 70s origins. Because of this Whip It! has great energy and heroines worth cheering for, dig deeper though and it’s the same old same old.

Ellen Page capitalizes on her Juno cache as the girl next door to play Bliss, a small town Texas teenager who’s forced to participate in beauty pageants by her stern but loving mail carrier mother (Marcia Gay Harden). While in Austin shopping, Bliss comes across a flyer advertising a roller derby at an abandoned industrial park. Curious, she talks her friend Pash (Alia Shawkat from Arrested Development) into heading down one night and checking out the on track mayhem. After the meet, she talks to Maggie Mayhem (Kristen Wiig) and Bliss tells her that the Hurl Scouts are her new official heroes. But Maggie dares Bliss to be her own hero and try out for the team, and soon the new roller derby sensation Babe Ruthless is born.

Now going in you know that Barrymore has a fine sense of comedic timing, but as a director she immediately sets a tone with all the derby scenes by getting the camera right in there and making you a part of the havoc. She’s also able to cram a lot of characters and a lot of plot development into the just under two hour running time, and miraculously it all comes through. Although Whip It! is clearly a chick power flick, Barrymore finds a good balance with the coming of age stuff and the high impact roller derby action, it’s almost like watching something on Spike TV. Good thing too because without the action and the characterization, this would have just been another “I-don’t-want-to-be-like-you-Mom-and-I’m-going-my-own-way movie.” Boring, right? And when the script leans a little too hard into that stuff, it hurts.

Aside from the roller derby scenes, it’s acting that wins the day. Harden as the tight-fisted mom is better than she should be making herself over-the-top funny yet somehow still kind of down to Earth. She’s partnered well with Daniel Stern as Bliss’ dad whose sympathy for Bliss’ desire to make her mark with roller derby is both quirky and endearing; there’s a great fatherly pride in him as plants a public display of his pride, just as his neighbour does with his footballer sons. And if I can just say how much I’m falling in love with Kristen Wiig as she disappears into another great supporting part playing big sister to Bliss. Even the obnoxious antics of Jimmy Fallon can’t dampen an otherwise excellent cast.

Still, I wasn’t a fan of a lot of the typical teen movie clichés where Bliss argues with her mother and ditches home, has a falling out with her best friend after a misunderstanding, and realizing that the guy of her dreams, a guitar player named Oliver (Landon Pigg), isn’t everything he’s cracked up to be. Between this and Jennifer’s Body, if there’s a lesson to be learned by young ladies from this year’s TIFF it’s that you shouldn’t trust guys in bands, seriously. But what you can trust is yourself, and that you know better than anyone how to find your true destiny. No kidding. Where have I heard that one before? Still, Whip It! is winning for the audience, and it’s a pretty good first time at bat for Drew Barrymore, director.