Red

Rating: ***1/5

The great gift of Red is that it’s fun. Although it’s got more Oscar-winners per capita than most action movies or comic book adaptations of its kind, it doesn’t really break any new ground or put a high premium on dramatic performance. So why see it? Well let’s start with John Malkovich concealing a weapon in a big pink pig plush toy and Dame Helen Mirren firing a big, damn machine gun in an evening gown, and go from there.

Red, based on the graphic novel written by Warren Ellis (creator of Global Frequency and The Authority), is actually an acronym for “Retired, Extremely Dangerous.” It’s a classification that’s given to Bruce Willis’ Frank Moses, a retired CIA assassin living a not-so fulfilling golden years in placid suburbia. The thing he gets most excited about is his pension cheque, which he promptly tears up so that he has a reason to call Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker) at the administrator’s office.

Frank’s quiet retirement though comes to a thundering end when a high-tech hit squad tries to, ahem, liquefy his assets. A trained agent, Frank knows that anyone he’s had contact with is in danger, and that’s a pretty short list that starts and ends with Sarah. Along the way Frank recruits his former CIA pals Marvin (Malkovich), Joe (Morgan Freeman) and Victoria (Mirren) to help him sort out the whos, whats and whys that an Agency goon (Karl Urban) is trying to erase him with extreme severity.

Part Bourne game of cat and mouse, part Grumpy Old Men, and part J.J. Abrams spy-fi shenanigans, Red easily entertains. It’s a brainless summer blockbuster with Oscar-calibre talent; like a Coen Brothers movie as interpreted by Michael Bay. Needless to say then that this movie does not follow the almost barebones plotting and straightforward narrative of Ellis’ original three-issue comic book, but this Red manages to expand on the book’s simple story in a satisfying, though nearly convoluted way.

Yes, the story is jam-packed to the point where you’re not sure where the emphasis of the story is supposed to be: the notion of talented assassins dealing with retirement or a massive government conspiracy involving the vice-president, illegal arms sales and some kind of black ops in South America years earlier that initially put Frank on the endangered spies list. All considerations of nuance though are laid aside once the guns start blazing, and when they do, as a viewer, you’re more than happy to let the violence engage you.

But if that’s not your speed, there’s always the quality acting on display. You do get a feeling of genuine camaraderie from the cast, a group of analogue soldiers kicking butt better than the agents of the digital age. Poor Karl Urban is left out in the cold playing the straightman, but he plays his part well enough to let this Masterpiece Theatre version of The Expendables take centre stage. For this reason, Red can elevate itself above the usual action movie tedium to be something a little for engaging than just the guns and ammo.

Aside from the main cast, which would be pretty tremendous by itself, we get some quality supporting performances as well. Brian Cox plays a former Russian spy who tries hard, though unsuccessfully, to hide his pleasure at finding himself the needed ally of his former adversaries. Meanwhile, Richard Dreyfuss channels some remnant of Dick Cheney after having played the Great Sat – I mean, former U.S. Vice-President in Oliver Stone’s W, by here portraying the weapons manufacturer at the heart of the conspiracy.

Still, it’s Malkovich that steals the show playing the burnt out, Section Eight Marvin. Speaking of the Coens, I was reminded strongly of Burn After Reading when seeing Red because it’s almost like the madness of Osborne Cox took off to a whole new level of paranoia in the face of an ever expanding “League of Morons.” Without Malkovich, I don’t think this movie would have gone down the same. John, all’s forgiven for Jonah Hex.

But despite the balance that Red strikes between laughs and action, the film may be too much of one and not enough of the other according to some viewers. But the right frame of mind makes the difference, I think. Much like The A-Team movie from earlier this year, Red honestly mixes comedy and gun play with a healthy and lively cast of characters. It’s a satisfying summer film in the chill of fall though, and is, at the very least, a good time at the theatre.

Love Ranch

Rating: ***

The new film Love Ranch does something unusual for a Hollywood film, it makes age look sexy. True, this is a film about the first legal brothel in Nevada, but the honorific title of sex bomb doesn’t belong to one of the nubile young actresses that play the ladies of the house, but rather the Academy Award-winning Dame that plays their madam. It should come as no surprise that Helen Mirren owns sex appeal at 65 years of age, but it’s just nice to a movie let it be. Of course, we can probably credit that to Mirren’s husband Taylor Hackford, who happens to also be the film’s director.

But leaving aside the aesthetics for a moment, Love Ranch is an interesting story. The titular establishment, which opened for the first time in the 70s, was the subject of much controversy, even in the laissez-faire state of Nevada. The Ranch was the brainchild of Charlie Bontempo, but it was really his put upon wife Grace Bontempo that kept up the business and made it lucrative. One might even say it was a model. Charlie had his ambitions to turn Reno into the new Vegas with himself as the Bugsy Siegel-like mastermind, but as the story goes, behind every great man…

Mirren stars as Grace and she’s teamed with fellow Oscar-winner Joe Pesci as Charlie; an odder couple on film you can hardly find. Yet somehow, for some strange reason, the combination of classically Brit Mirren and obnoxious Jersey boy Pesci works, and works beautifully. You buy them as a couple because of their dynamism, because there’s something that the one needs from the other and vice versa. Pesci is restraint in his performance playing a kind of giddy con man that hides his more thuggish inclinations that only come out when things don’t go his way.

The movie follows Grace and Charlie has the latter copes with his latest brush at immortality: managing a washed up heavy-weight fighter named Armando Bruza (Sergio Peris-Mencheta). Of course because of Charlie’s questionable past in regards to law enforcement, on paper, the management of Bruza falls to Grace. But while Grace knows nothing about managing a boxer, she does know something about men, and what she gets out of Bruza – attentiveness, passion and a little danger – is a far cry from what she gets from Charlie – philandering, neglect and violent leanings.

Grace begins a secret affair with Bruza. Secret because if Charlie ever found out then Bruza’s value would decrease both as a person and as a boxer. The relationship between Grace and Bruza is utterly believable in the moment as Mirren and Peris-Mencheta have palpable chemistry. Still, there’s so much more punch to the stuff going on between Mirren and Pesci that when the movie doesn’t focus on their tumultuous marriage/business partnership the mind wanders. You want to learn more about their background, how they met, and how they engaged in this let’s say “unique” business venture together. The film has an ample and talented supporting cast including Bryan Cranston, Gina Gershon, M.C. Gainey, and Bai Ling, but who’s kidding who? The only stars of this movie are Pesci and Mirren.

The screenplay itself, as penned by American Gangster writer Mark Jacobson, seems a bit too all over the place. It makes no moral judgments against the Bontempos but it doesn’t do much to stick up for them either. The film required the assured tone of P.T. Anderson’s Boogie Nights, which chronicled the lives of people in the porn industry in a sympathetic way while showing it for what it is, warts and all. Combined with Mirren’s melodramatic narration that seems more romance novel than anything, and the opportunity to make something unique and powerful about sex workers and their industry seems wasted. Especially in a historical context.

Structurally, Love Ranch struggles to get beyond the typical biography pattern of a good-spirited character, bogged down with adversity but given the strength to overcome and stand on their own as a smart, successful and independent person. But this type of storytelling always strikes me as more TV-movie-of-the-week than something made of people with Oscar-calibre skill. Still, that skill comes through thanks to Mirren and Pesci’s performances. Love Ranch was interesting, though not all together involving. Not nearly as lurid or as lucid as it could be, Love Ranch is fittingly in the middle of nowhere thematically.

Inkheart

Rating: ***

When I read other reviews of Inkheart, I wasn’t given much hope; which goes to show you that sometimes the only judgment you have to trust is your own. Is Inkheart perfect? No, absolutely not. It’s got a hook, it has a talented cast of actors, and it has a popular series of novels as its inspiration to draw from. Where things go wrong though is that the director lacks the scope and ambition to bring the film to a truly stirring existence. He’s unable to marry style with substance and because the former is lacking, the latter ends up suffering. Still, I think there’s enough in the finished product to recommend.

Inkheart is the name of the book within a movie based on a book. Mortimer (Brendan Fraser) is a restorer or rare books, and he’s searching for one of the rarest books of all. You see, through an accident several years earlier, Mortimer discovered an ability to bring things to life from books just by reading it aloud. This rare talent makes him a “Silver Tongue” and it cost Mortimer his wife when in exchange for bringing three characters from Inkheart to life, while she took their place in the book. Mortimer and his daughter Meg (Eliza Bennett) have been on the run for years from the dangerous villain Capricorn (Andy Serkis), while look for a way to bring the missing member of their family back.

Truthfully, it’s pretty standard fantasy fair. So it really shouldn’t have come as any surprise that the characters new to this entire books-coming-to-life thing should be so cool with it. But that was a bit odd for me. “Hey, I have the ability to make stuff out of books come to life. Want to see King Arthur’s Excalibur? Shall I conjure the tornado from the Wizard of Oz?” “Yeah. Sure, go for it. Maybe you can conjure up Lady Godiva too.” It’s one of those suspension of disbelief things because it’s okay for us in the audience to buy this stuff easily enough, but the characters’ refusal to see the obvious gives us permission to do so.

Also, I think Inkheart suffers the fate of many fantasy books turned movies by trying to cram too much into the story without giving it proper time to grow and breathe. So many characters and so many predicaments are thrown at us in such a short space and time that you don’t really get any time to get to know any of them. The final battle with Capricorn also feels horribly contrite and barely exciting. It’s probably the most static final battle I’ve ever seen, with the reveal of the dreaded monster called Shadow looking less Balrock and more Barney. However there was something about resolving the situation with writing that appealed to my pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword writer’s sensibility.

And besides, the various characters I found very appealing. Helen Mirren as Great Aunt Elinor is a treat, with her over-protective book nerdiness; she’s kind of the Henry Jones Sr. of Inkheart, if you will. Serkis is delicious as Capricorn, relishing the Lex Luthor style attitude and shorn dome. You can truly tell that Serkis enjoys playing the bad guy and he wears that ice smile like a silk suit. Jim Broadbent has a few good blows as Inkheart – the movie book’s – author, but Fraser looks bored as he finds himself facing off against magic and mayhem again for what feels like the millionth time. The film’s saving grace is probably that he doesn’t have to fight a mummy.

But in the end, I found that the energy and spirit of the film itself overcame the technical and occasional thespian failings that grind it down. It’s got a good message about the power of the written word, which, although understandably marginalized given the medium, is a good thought to leave with the Playstation generation. It’s also a reminder that there’s more to life than Harry Potter or, heaven forbid, Twilight. I wish though that the producers had managed to recruit a Tim Burton or Guillermo del Toro type director that really good have married the content with the presentation. This film had such great possibilities and it seems that only through luck that it avoided being a void.