Science Fiction's greatest honored in the OFCS's first top 100 movies list

June 10, 2002

I have usually considered myself a less-than-cooperative participant in the past to vote-ins associated with lists like the "100 best or worst of the century," but when it came to my attention that the Online Film Critics Society, a gathering of more than a hundred professional (and influential) film critics which I happen to be part of, was putting together a list of the greatest Science Fiction movies ever made, something in the darkest corner of my mind jump-started an engine of enthusiasm. Each of us group members were asked to submit a list of our favorite 25 sci-fi endeavors, all of which would be tallied and combined to a final list of 100. A simple request like this might have easily gone over the head of a busy critic, but the society's governing committee persisted in getting everyone's contributions, sending out e-mail reminders at a pace that would only add weight to the importance of participation. For the society as a whole, everyone's involvement would have sent a message about how deeply everyone cared about the group they were affiliated with. But coming through on these requests was only partly about participating as a team; for some of us, like myself, it was more about the opportunity to connect with a specific division of cinema that is often the gateway for the biggest and brightest imaginations.

Summer 2002: A Look Ahead

June 7, 2002

The June-to-August period is usually the busiest of the year at the local multiplex, but long lines and sold-out showings began popping up in during the first weeks of May as studios decided to jump-start the season of movie blockbusters by unleashing their endeavors before anyone else had a chance to. This year, that theory expanded to include the last weeks of April as well—Universal's "The Scorpion King" triggered a new wave of enthusiasm at theaters that has only strengthened turnouts since. In fact, this last May was the biggest record-breaker on history; in addition to groundbreaking profits racked up by major blockbusters like "Spider-Man" and "Star Wars Episode II - Attack of the Clones," the month also saw the biggest overall turnout in history, in which the top ten films at the box office ranked in over $200 million a Friday-to-Sunday period, the most ever for one weekend.

Spider-Man / *** (2002)

"With great power comes great responsibility."
- Uncle Ben

Something has always baffled me about the notorious existence of the neighborhood hero Spider-Man, and until I saw Sam Raimi's movie adaptation of the popular comic book just this last week, I still wasn't quite sure what that was. As an observer in the past to the web-slinger's penchant to topple heroically off of high-rises and into the murky streets below, moving swiftly to protect innocents from foreboding shadows, I admittedly had as many high hopes going in to the experience as I did unresolved questions. The answer came to me shortly after the movie's hero made his obligatory transformation, but by the time the second act began to unfold, quibbles and speculations no longer mattered, because what I was seeing was not simply popcorn entertainment, but one of the most exhilarating (and silly) screen adventures ever to be inspired by the pages of a Marvel comic.

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones / ** (2002)

The name George Lucas has been imbedded in countless lists of the great film directors ever since his "Star Wars" franchise wowed audiences a whole generation ago, but now comes the fifth (or realistically, the second) installment into his famous series, "Attack of the Clones," a movie that might finally (and rightfully) call into question his authenticity as a serious filmmaker. Seldom in the past have we been invited in on such an obvious display of self-serving cinema, in which the director's influence is so apparent that he seems to suffocate the other members of his crew, who are fighting an uphill battle in trying to come across with a sense of identity. But there are no alternative angles for us to look at here; the movie is labored like it were a biblical code of conduct, with Lucas' thumbprint mercilessly smearing the canvas until it becomes too much to handle.

Unfaithful / *1/2 (2002)

"Unfaithful" opens with a seemingly ordinary suburb family preparing for a typical weekday, braving the harsh elements of weather and trying to get all they need to done before the day winds down to a close. But something begins to disrupt this pattern (almost imperatively) when Connie Sumner (Diane Lane) bumps into a handsome book dealer down in Soho during a gusty windstorm, injures her knee, and winds up cleaning the wounds in his apartment nearby. She is attracted to him, and it's obvious he returns the infatuation. And yet she's married, and even more important, to a man she loves (although there is little intimacy between them). Standing on a divide between taking risks and keeping with values, Connie finds herself trapped in a moral situation that can lead to several uncertain outcomes.

Jason X / * (2002)

"Evil Gets an Upgrade."
- Tagline for "Jason X"

We should have known that it would come to this. For nearly a full decade (and what seems like too short a time), one of Hollywood's most notorious killing machine creations, Jason Voorhees, has rested somewhere deep in the bowels of cinematic hell, retiring from slicing teenage throats and ripping guts open after nine installments into his never-ending "Friday the 13th" franchise (a promise, in fact, was made in the last picture's title, indicating that it was, indeed, the "Final Friday"). Now, just two short years into the new millennium, Mr. Hockey mask has returned to the fray, familiarizing himself with those old methods of mayhem in the new film "Jason X." Is this a surprise? Oh, not at all. The only real shocker, actually, is that mankind seems to be just as stupid and naive 400 years into the future as they were at Jason's old hunting grounds.

Frailty / **** (2002)

The laws of the serial killer movie have usually obeyed patterns much like those of the serial killers themselves, fitting a profile that is easily navigated by an audience but seldom too routine to come off as mundane. Think of this daunting task from the perspective of a federal agent; in the genre, he/she is responsible for piecing together a mystery in which the pieces are scattered in familiar ways, but always lead to less obvious outcomes. The same can almost always be said for the cinematic endeavor; movies in this vein open with the discovery of the killer's latest casualty, continue with scenes from the point of view of the murderer and/or victims, escalate into a cat-and-mouse mystery game, and ultimately end with unforeseen (but satisfying) jolts. Of course, not all films about these things can be called successful, but compared it to similar film genres and the result is not exactly a horrendous one, either.

Panic Room / ***1/2 (2002)

David Fincher is one of those directors whose cabalistic forte is an acquired taste for most audiences, and though that distinction makes him more susceptible to being separated from the consensus of Hollywood's greatest living filmmakers, few of his detractors can so easily admit to not having a slight interest in his newest endeavors.

That's the first notion that comes to mind with his latest film "Panic Room," a thriller that follows his consistently rocky road established by the likes of "Seven" and "Fight Club." We're fully aware of the tricky antics and eccentric techniques Fincher is capable of behind the camera, but it's hard not to be somewhat intrigued by the effort, even if it's just brief.

Blade II / *** (2002)

The audience owes a certain amount of respect to movie vampires, who were born in Hollywood's golden age and have managed to survive in a time when their essence has veered from original to routine. Few big-screen creatures can claim the distinction of persisting as long, and though we tend to dismiss the mighty bloodsuckers as walking clichés as of late, we still find ourselves embracing their existence, ignoring potential forewarnings in the often-misguided hopes that they can recapture their inventive potency.

We Were Soldiers / ** (2002)

As hard as it may seem, the big budget Hollywood war film is on an unfortunate fast track to becoming the latest casualty of overexposure, joining the ranks of gross-out comedies and teen slashers as a once-elusive idea that rapidly settles in as a cliché. What's most unsettling about this conclusion is the fact that unlike other genres suffering from overkill, the war movie is timely and valuable to our society as a whole, representing the immediate wounds inflicted by gut-wrenching battle that, in ways, can be more damaging than rewarding to the nations who engage in it. Countless major movie studios, alas, now only see the financial potential of ideas like this, and are undermining the essence of it all with endeavors watered down to a routine level.

Oscars 2002: From The Director's Chair...

March 15, 2002

Hollywood's biggest night of the year is slowly but surely creeping up on us movie fans, fueling lengthy discussions about not just the year's most recognized motion picture achievements, but movies, awards and celebrities in general. It is a time of widespread anxiety for the film industry, clouded by uncertain outcomes and saturated with speculation. And those who have the potential of being called into the spotlight to accept an Oscar no doubt quiver with fear and excitement.

Oscars 2002: Winner Predictions

March 15, 2002

Any avid moviegoer will tell you how the attempt to make predictions of Oscar victors has become a coveted American pastime, but few of them will be able to express in words how addictive, frustrating and time consuming it actually is. That concept has never been more apparent than this year, as a careful look over the 74th Academy Awards voting ballot is an instant invitation to hours of piercing headaches.

The elaborate guessing game that tends to befuddle even the most successful predictors is even more of an obstacle this time around than it has been in years past. In recent memory, viewers, critics and analysts could at least depend on "weak spots" (or nominees who seemed susceptible to being forgotten) in major categories to help narrow their predictions down. Now, in a year when five seemingly invulnerable pictures have been grouped in the ceremony's most coveted category, the opportunity to close the gap has become much more difficult.

Collateral Damage / *1/2 (2002)

The subject of terrorism has been an immensely demanding subject on our minds ever since two commercial flights crashed into the World Trade Center last September, tearing an open wound into the foundation of the American dream and pulling the nation in to a widespread fire that has plagued this Earth for hundreds of years. In the time since that tragedy, many of us have tried hard to understand the warped logic behind those associated with such heinous attacks: what motivates them, what are their long-term goals, and most importantly, what do they gain from acting out so violently. Of course, the answers are nowhere near simple, and though the government has set itself the goal of crumbling the intricate terrorist networks in the Middle East, chances are these kinds of catastrophic attacks on humanity will go on long after most of us are gone.

Resident Evil / *1/2 (2002)

The adaptations of popular video games to major motion pictures is one of the biggest transitional curses of the modern cinema, and effort that is incessantly crushed by the fact that that screenwriters are too afraid to expand on ideas that the games themselves barely scratch the surface of. Consider last summer's ambitious retelling of the "Tomb Raider" computer game craze; it was flashy, ambitious and sometimes amusing, but the small plot, as with the source material itself, was simply an excuse to throw us in to countless sequences in which creatures are shot up and the hero of the story moves on to the next level, waiting for new dangers. At least with video games, we at least have control of the action. When it comes to the cinematic equivalent, it feels like we're simply observers of players who visit the same levels over and over again without making any progress.

Snow Dogs / 1/2* (2002)

When the lights go down in the theater that is showing "Snow Dogs," the mind is immediately flooded with prospects of "Cats and Dogs"-style animal effects, in which normal four-legged pets are effortlessly warped into english-speaking intellects with an edge on cunning behavior and witty reasoning. Such a perspective has been used as the primary advertising tool behind this live action Disney vehicle, but like so many campaigns of the recent past from the infamous Mouse House, the delivery is more deceitful than valid. In fact, the movie contains only one major scene featuring animals engaging in human discussion, and it's strictly a dream sequence, lifted from a story centered on not charm or amusement, but cringe-worthy standards and feel-good tones that could pass off as leftover treats from Disney's recent past live action endeavors. No, this isn't even a movie we can enjoy as mild escapism; it is one in which fear and frustration are provoked to intolerable levels.