Police Story

Jackie Chan is the world’s most devoted entertainer. There’s no questioning it. Name an entertainer who is more willing to sacrifice for their craft than him – it’s impossible to do. He’s a man in love with the moving picture and over his forty-plus year career he’s almost died numerous times (he’s broken his spine, been electrocuted, has had to have brain surgery, the list goes on) and yet it’s an odd time when there isn’t a new Jackie Chan movie every two years. Who can compare to Jackie Chan – name any actor or director willing to risk his life for make-believe on every single film and I don’t think you’ll be able to come up with any names. Sure, some directors drive themselves to the brink (Francis Ford Coppola with Apocalypse Now, Werner Herzog with Fitzcarraldo) but few entertainers reach the height of professional masochism that Chan plays at. And in Police Story the awe-inspiring stunts and set pieces are in full display.

Plot is a secondary effort in Jackie Chan films (for good reason), but Police Story makes a solid effort by spinning a tale of police corruption, evil drug dealers, and a complete lack of faith in the justice system that is countered by multiple roundhouse kicks and faceless goons being thrown through glass windows. Chan plays Chan Ka Kui, an earnest and devoted police officer who makes a name for himself taking down an international drug dealer single-handedly in the film’s opening reel (and the most thrilling beginning to a film since….any other Jackie Chan movie).

What may be a bit off-putting for some is the film’s wildly divergent shifts in tone. The opening assault sequence is tense and suspenseful filmmaking, which is then followed by slapstick comedy when one of Chan’s cop buddies attempts to frighten a witness into snitching on her boss by attempting to kill her with a knife. Yes, you read that right. It’s an odd sequence that delves deeper and deeper into absurdity until it becomes hysterical. And that is how the film ebbs and flows – tense action sequence followed by slapstick comedy followed by a tense action sequence followed by another slapstick comedy set piece. It’s quite different from earnest Hollywood action pictures where any attempt at levity is frowned upon for ruining the tension. Try to imagine a Dirty Harry movie where the action is halted by a scene with Harry slipping in the kitchen while trying to cook his spaghetti and meatball dinner before jumping back in to his hunt for Scorpio. It wouldn’t happen.

That’s also one of the most interesting aspect of Jackie Chan’s characters – they’re badasses, but they never act like such. There’s no self-serving scene that shows how “cool” these characters are – they’re generally pretty silly and sensitive outside the action sequences – but I guess that’s how Chan likes to play it. His characters are “cool” without having to act like so.

Going full circle with my “Jackie-Chan-is-the-hardest-working-man-in-showbiz” spiel, Police Story made me really appreciate his artistry during the climatic sequence in a mall when he slides three stories down an electrified pole – that was actually electrified. In the special features they mention that during that sequence Chan’s skin was literally melting off of his hands and that he passed out and needed urgent medical attention after the stunt was complete. Please, name another actor who would still do action movies – and his own stunts – twenty years after this happened to him.

Grade: A-

Favorite Jackie Moment: The scene where he’s the only one in the police office answering phones. Only Jackie Chan can make a person want to juggle nine phones at a time.

The Purple Rose of Cairo

I’m at a stage in my movie-watching life where I only want to watch movies under 100 minutes. It’s a bit strange, admittedly, but I’ve grown tired of the bloated two-and-half hour running times that plague everything from the latest Transformers Crap-o-Rama to the earnest indie flick that just wants to be a movie about people living, y’know? Films under 100 minutes don’t have time to waste a frame, and that makes their narratives tight, lean, and effective (unless we’re talking about contemporary comedies, which usually means they only have 30 minutes of plot and 60 minutes of filler). This just makes The Purple Rose of Cairo all the more fantastic because it manages to plug in a heartfelt love-letter to the movies in the space of 82 minutes that most movies wouldn’t be able to accomplish with double that time.

I’ve only just begun to notice that there are Woody Allen movies and then there are movies by Woody Allen. The Purple Rose of Cairo fits into the latter category – where there is no nebbish and neurotic “Woody” character dominating the plot and the film stands firmly on its own with the themes and ideas it’s trying to express. I would argue that the recent Midnight in Paris is also a movie by Woody Allen rather than a Woody Allen movie, and it has similar elements to The Purple Rose of Cairo in that they both rely on fantasy as a narrative device.

Mia Farrow plays a lonely waitress in Depression-era New Jersey who only finds pleasure in her existence when she’s sitting in the local movie theatre. Her husband, Danny Aiello, is a brutish lout who spends his days playing cards and throwing pennies with the other unemployed men and whistling at attractive women as they walk by. On one particularly bad day, Farrow walks into the theatre to watch the latest film – The Purple Rose of Cairo – and spends five screenings of the film admiring the romantic character Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels) as he adventures through Egyptian tombs and ends up sweeping a duchess off her feet. And then during another screening of the film, Baxter is distracted by Farrow in the audience, falls in love with her, and exits the screen and enters the audience to be with her – much to the chagrin of the other characters who can’t get through the movie without him and can’t go into the “real world” with him.

The best part is that theres no explanation for why a movie character like Tom Baxter can leave the film and enter the “real world” – much like there is no explanation in Midnight in Paris for why Owen Wilson can go back into the 1920s. It just happens, and that’s that.

The film ends with a bittersweet climax, and in the silence you can almost hear Humphrey Bogart say: “We’ll always have the movies.”

Grade: A

The Vanishing

There’s the strangest image I had after watching the Dutch thriller The Vanishing. The entirety of the movie is an exercise in demonstrating the banality of evil – the lead villain isn’t a scenery-chewing monster, nor does he even have a motive for the horrible things he does. He just wanted to see if he was capable of doing something repulsive. And he is. The image it conjured up for me was a university classroom of students learning how to commit the perfect murder – with the film’s villain as the professor. Except it isn’t exciting; the students are bored with the monotonous lecture, complaining about the assignments and requirements of the class, and some can’t even stay awake. That’s the banality of evil – when something reprehensible becomes boring.

The plot of the film is simple: a man’s girlfriend vanishes from a gas station and he spends the next three years obsessed with finding out what happened to her. We learn the identity of her abductor early on – a composed chemistry teacher – and in a lengthy flashback we follow his preparations, learning alongside him the effort it takes to make a person disappear into thin air. It’s not easy work, and it is the films greatest strength that it takes it’s time to lead up to the pivotal moment at the gas station, only revealing the truth to us in breadcrumbs until we’re just as obsessed about finding out the truth as the boyfriend.

Much has been made about the ending of The Vanishing. It’s claimed to be shocking and haunting, but I found it to be a little flat. It is dark and disturbing of course, but only after the fact. Which I would argue is intentional because that’s what makes the ending frightening. What’s more horrific than knowing a person capable of a monstrous act who doesn’t feel a thing afterwards? Not being able to tell that person apart from anyone else.

Grade: A-

Sidenote: Don’t bother seeing the 1993 remake with Jeff Bridges, Kiefer Sutherland, and Sandra Bullock. The ending is completely changed because the original was too dark and depressing for American audiences. Funny thing is, the remake and the original were both directed by the same guy. The more you know.

Real Steel

Leave it to Disney to serve up an action-packed robot boxing movie with a heaping serving of Velveeta. In between scenes of steel crushing steel there’s still enough time to fill the gaps with cliched estranged father-and-son bonding. Hugh Jackman is a degenerate drunk, gambler, and he’s heavily in debt to all the people you don’t want to be in debt to. Oh, and he has a son he hasn’t spoken to in eleven years…or eight years, he’s not entirely sure. Anyway, he comes into custody of the child after his ex-wife dies inexplicably (it’s literally just a note in the script: “Mom dies to bring Jackman & Son together for hijinks, never mention her death again”). It’s a familiar story, but Real Steel plays it well.

After seeing the original Twilight Zone episode that this movie was based on (which in turn was based on a Richard Matheson short story), the climax of the film is a bit of a letdown. Admittedly it isn’t plausible for the film to end in the same way – the robots in this one are just too powerful – but it is a little underwhelming to see a retread of Rocky (this time with robots!). It’s too be expected though – the original ending would’ve been a little too dark for the movie’s target audience of 6 – 75. I think it could’ve been quite fitting and emotional (although it would’ve been a retread of The Champ…this time with robots!)

What Real Steel lacks in flesh-and-blood feeling it makes up for in multiple robot-on-robot action sequences. By my count, there’s seven or eight different fights – each probably lasting about three-four minutes. Which means a solid return on movie ticket to robot action – one dollar gets you two and a half minutes of machinery crushing ACTION! And what action it is. It’s surprising how effective the boxing sequences are. The stakes are non-existent (these are CGI fighters) but we believe everything we see because of incredible effects, great sound design, and strong editing. It’s quite exciting and if it doesn’t make you want to shadowbox after the movie’s over, then you’re lying.

The only missteps of the film is when its lays on the cheese a little thick. Evangeline Lilly’s character is mostly the cause of this, essentially because she isn’t given much to do besides wax nostalgically about what a great fighter Jackman used to be and then tear up when Jackman & Son start bonding. Also, Real Steel is guilty of one of my biggest pet peeves – dancing scenes that are supposed to be adorable. Dakota Goyo plays the young son in the movie and he’s excellent, often showing up Lilly and Jackman in the acting department. Except when he starts dancing with his robot. It’s probably just me but I’ve never enjoyed scenes where characters are in their own homes, or in private, or anywhere, really, and they dance to a song they like. I find it neither enjoyable, entertaining, nor adorable. It’s awkward and eye-roll inducing. Please no more dancing scenes like this.

Despite its flaws, Real Steel is a crowd-pleasing collage of  two Sylvester Stallone films – Over the Top and Rocky,  – but I’d be damned to say it isn’t an enjoyable, if formulaic, flick that manages to hit all the right beats.

Real Steel is the real deal (….Sigh. I’ll let myself out).

Grade: B-

Sidenote: There’s a scene with Evangeline Lilly in a bar watching an important robot boxing event for Jackman & Son. It’s unintentionally hilarious and distracting because of an extra who really, really wants to talk to her. It’s the equivalent of the scene from Bruno when he’s auditioning for a part on NBC’s Medium….except this actually made it into the final cut.