Movie Review: Prometheus

In space no one can hear you scream, but in a movie hall everyone can hear you sigh in disappointment. That is a real shame because Ridley Scott’s big return to science fiction has as tame a climax as it has an incredible buildup.

Scott’s Alien and the James Cameron sequel Aliens aren’t just seminal films – they are sacred entities for millions and millions of movie geeks all over the world. Prometheus, which began as a prequel to Alien and then ‘evolved’ into a completely different storyline ends up devolving into the original film and decades of sci fi clichés. The film is infuriating not only because of its constant reliance on Alien to validate itself, but because after a very promising two-thirds it mutilates itself into a chasm much like the character in the opening scene. It throws a volley of themes like Creationism and Darwinism and grabs you by the finger to take you to the secret room containing the secrets of the universe, only to sneer mischievously and pull the rug under you. 

Prometheus, which was spoiled entirely in the trailer, introduces us to Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) who discover ancient cave paintings in a Scottish island in the year 2089 – the two quickly realize that the maps within the paintings would lead them to the answers to the origins of mankind. Fast forward four years, Shaw and Holloway embark on a mission funded by the mysterious Peter Weyland (Guy Pearce) to explore planet LV-223 aboard the ship Prometheus - a name derived from a Greek titan who dared to bridge the gap between humans and the gods and suffered a horrible fate. All kinds of hell breaks loose once the crew lands on the planet, as the ‘where did humans come from?’ quickly turns into ‘does it even matter’.  

As interesting as that premise is, Prometheus in its attempt to juggle between Creationism and Darwinism fails to focus on narrative and character. One of the dozens of brilliant things about Alien was that the crew was comprised of simple engineers who indulge in effortless banter and face a nightmare in their own ship. The characters eat lunch and bitch about their salaries – it made them relatable and believable and made us root for them when the Xenomorph attacked. Prometheus sadly comprises of the stock wide-eyed scientists and corporate scumbags who were seen in Aliens and many, many other sci fi films over the past two decades. Not only do the smart and sophisticated scientists in Prometheus behave like blonde teens in a slasher movie but they also mouth some of the worst ever dialogue. One botanist says ‘I ain’t here to make friends’ while a geologist says ‘I just love rocks!’. And when a scientist spots a strange creature staring at them, he acts in the most unscientific way possible by going all koochi-koo and proceeding to touch it with his hands. Later, when a circular ship crashes and rolls on the ground threatening to crush the two supposedly bright people, they run along the path of the wheel for two whole minutes instead of moving aside.  

The lead heroine is a rubbery wad of contradictions as well – Shaw is a scientist on a trillion dollar space mission to locate the source of human life, because of her ‘faith’. Moreover, the conflict between faith and science is handled in a hilariously bad manner here, with close-ups of Shaw’s cross dangling from her neck. Then there is Charlize Theron as Meredith Vickers, an antagonistic Weyland boss who exists in the film mainly to perform semi-naked pushups. Theron’s character adds absolutely nothing to film, even despite the major plot twist involving her in the third act. There is also Idris Elba as the ship’s captain who is bland enough to warrant a red Star Trek shirt. However Prometheus belongs to the android David (Michael Fassbender) who is somewhat modeled after Peter O'Toole in Lawrence of Arabia. Ironically, the non-human David is the brains and heart of Prometheus and Fassbender is just excellent in his role. 

Prometheus poses more questions than answers, and the sequel bait at the climax, though frustrating, gives way to a potential trilogy that would be more than welcome. Nitpicking the bad characterization and lack of a solid story doesn’t take away from some meaty dissection of the film. Apart from the extraordinary sets and 3D cinematography, Prometheus presents a very interesting theme of fatherhood, a polar opposite of the motherhood leitmotif of the Alien films. One character is left to deal with the trauma of its father being physically absent, while the father of another is emotionally absent. Another character manipulates a man into regarding him as his surrogate father. Everyone in the film is on a quest to meet the father of mankind, on a ship named after the one who fathered mankind. The final scene of the film offers an even bigger reference to this theme. Strangely, the same theme of abandoned fatherhood works for Ridley Scott, who created the Alien universe and then ran away, only to return years later and is now unable to mend a 32-year-old child intellectually broken by the scars of Alien 3, Alien Resurrection and the Predator crossover movies. 

(First published in MiD Day)

Movie Review: Rowdy Rathore

If Anil Sharma ever gave a movie-making contract to a bunch of drunken teenage boys, it might look something like Akshay Kumar’s Rowdy Rathore. Because this film is as funny as tuberculosis.

Five minutes into Rowdy Rathore, you begin to suspect that everyone associated with this film had been under the influence of very high grade marijuana while producing it. Passed off as ‘humor’ are scenes like a thief raiding a house with a poori in his mouth, and making the owner of the house bite it; or a female cop taking her cap off and dancing mischievously after our hero sprays deodorant on himself. It is a movie made by people who laugh at their own jokes, made for people who will laugh at anything. And at the helm is star Akshay Kumar, whose comedy here is not just endured, but feels like spending twenty four hours with an inebriated, stoned bore who thinks he's being funny by constantly making faces. It almost seems like he was upset to be the last guy at the Tollywood Remake Buffet Table, following Salman, Aamir and Ajay Devgn.  

The ‘story’ would seem outdated even if the film released during the stone age - Shiva (Akshay Kumar) is a smalltime bandit who falls for Priya (Sonakshi) and stumbles across a little girl, the daughter of his doppelganger policeman Vikram Rathore and crosses paths with a gang of hoodlums from a Bihar village who are after Rathore. Of course any semblance of a story makes way for sloppy narrative, vulgar lines, tedious attempts at slow-mo fighting and jokes that seem to date from before South remakes turned Bollywood into a cottage industry. Even the two gags that are mildly funny have a smug, take-it-or-leave-it tone that makes giving a damn about anything on screen seem impossible. 

Writer Shiraz Ahmad stoops to using Sonakshi Sinha’s bare tummy as a stand-in when he runs out of the hollow little skits. And then he brings in the most achingly clichéd pan-chewing women-raping sweaty goondas from the 80’s, the ones who’d make even the lyricist of the song ‘Daloonga Daloonga’ roll his eyes. During one scene a police officer (Yashpal Sharma, in a horrendous role) goes with his kids to a smarmy goonda (Nassar) to beg him to return his wife who is held as a sex slave by the goon’s deranged son. And as the woman is displayed in front of everyone by the chest-scratching baddie, the goonda promises to let her go in two days, after which he throws his head back and laughs. That is as classy as it gets. On the plus side, at least director Prabhudheva doesn’t subject us to full-on shots of women being brutally molested by sniggering men in Leopard skin underwear. It's a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless. 

What's most appalling is that the filmmakers felt the need to make this pungent mound of toxins run for more than two and a half hours, as if they actually have something to say. But all I saw in between the Akshaygasms was a torrential rain of paychecks and a distasteful disregard for entertainment. Mindless masala movies can be fun but Rowdy Rathore presents a cinematic devolution that yammers on endlessly and insultingly. A real crook would steal your money and then walk away, but producer Sanjay Leela Bhansali and co seem to be content to first take your money and then clobber you until you are reduced to a dead nubbin with your ticket floating in a pool of your blood. 

Director Prabhudheva has electrifying energy but he seems to use it to mask his shortcomings. Sonakshi is not horrible - which for her is a real step up. She looks seductive (and butch) while holding a plate of laddoos and behaves like Malvika Tiwari in Chamatkar. A nice change from Akshay Kumar who sounds like he is falling asleep.

If Bollywood has another opportunity to remake a Ravi Teja film (that sound you hear is me twirling a mala of divine beads, praying that doesn’t happen), maybe it should only have each actor simply sitting around drinking tea. After Wanted and Singham I have yet to understand what makes them so profitable, and if Rowdy Rathore is the type of filmmaking we can expect from Bollywood in the future, maybe the 2012 apocalypse isn’t such a bad choice after all. 

Movie Review: Cabin in the Woods

Two nights ago I walked out of a hall with a lopsided grin on my face, in a cathartic state, oblivious to the dozens of cars screeching to a halt and honking as I crossed the road. I had lost all connect of sight and sound, and the only emotion I felt was of being completely overwhelmed. I mention these things not to meander pointlessly, but to let you know that I’d just seen a certified cult classic – Drew Goddard’s bizarre and terrific The Cabin in the Woods. 

Written by cult grandmaster Joss Whedon and Goddard, The Cabin in the Woods isn't just a traditional horror movie, but a thoroughly entertaining, visceral experience. And by visceral I mean truly twisted, unique and endlessly fascinating to sit through. What is most engaging about this film is the way in which Goddard deliberately mixes the horror movie clichés with the darkly absurd and the over the top unexpected punch. This is a movie that is terrifying, hilarious and smart at the same time, a modern masterpiece. 

Cabin in the Woods takes place in a creepily dank and isolated titular place, one that is freshly populated by five college kids (Kristen Connolly, Chris Hemsworth, Anna Hutchison, Fran Kranz and Jesse Williams) for a weekend getaway. Like in Evil Dead, they stumble upon some ancient book and are attacked by all kinds of horrific things. But don’t let that premise fool you – all I can give you is the tagline ‘you think you know the story, think again’. Suffice to say that a lot of mayhem ensues, and to say that you are prepared for what follows in the final half hour would be a huge flashing neon sign of an understatement. And the more you chip away the mystery through the film, the deeper your jaw sinks towards the floor. 

This isn’t just a movie about jump scares and gore (although there is plenty of it), but it's as smartly entertaining a black comedy as you're likely to come across. As the film progresses Goddard (who has also written Cloverfield) lovingly piles on the horror movie tropes like a crazed fanboy and grabs your mind and blows it. He pays homage to the horror genre, sneers at the genre’s various in-jokes and turns the whole thing into a parody at will. Fans of horror and pop culture junkies will in particular be giddy in delight at the tongue in cheek references here. This isn’t the Shaun of the Dead, but the Godfather of Cabin terror, and Sam Raimi would be pleased.

The creepy setting maintains the nightmarish mode, which is buoyed by all the lead performances. Newbie Kristen Connolly and Chris Hemsworth deliver without being the least bit hackneyed but it's Fran Kranz as the bong-wielding goof that commands the most attention. Most stoners in Hollywood films have the stock set of established gimmicks, but this guy is actually a three-dimensional and entirely sympathetic. The special effects are few, but they contain enough meaty punches and sheer lunacy to spiral you into guilty pleasure. And the film’s final scene is brilliant enough to warrant a big fat Keanu Reeves-eque ‘whoa’.

The ultimate form of cinematic asskickery, The Cabin in the Woods is a devious and admirably fun mind-bender of a genre dissection. It will be referred to and revered by movie geeks in the decades to come. Heck, I don’t just appreciate this film, I swear by it.

(First published in MiD Day)

Movie Review: Snow White and the Huntsman

There are two reasons to watch Snow White and the Huntsman – if you are a fan of mediocrity, or a fan of Kristen Stewart. The film is a lumbering, occasionally good looking pseudo epic that walks a bizarre line between teen-centric tripe and wannabe dark war drama. 

Based on the famous Brothers Grimm fairy tale and starring Twilight star Kristen Stewart, Snow White and the Huntsman is a cheesy and hammy cocktail, and seemingly proud of it. First time director Rupert Sanders has little in command outside of the lavishly detailed CGI and the intricate text of the end credits. The special effects are admittedly great, but the story of a kingdom’s rightful heir (Stewart) who overthrows an evil queen (Charlize Theron) feels quite outdated. Sanders attempts to darken the story with moody lighting and epic landscapes but despite the spectacle the film never really differentiates itself from other cheesy ancient-history fairytale failures like last year’s Red Riding Hood. 

The film doesn’t completely dip to Twilight levels of dreadfulness but it does seem like a big budget product catering exclusively to Twi-hards. Perhaps the Snow White story has simply run its course – we’ve already seen countless adaptations, including Tarsem’s Mirror Mirror. And perhaps we've all seen too many gloomy sweeping panoramas , or perhaps cinematographer Greig Fraser’s camerawork is pale by comparison to the skill found in Peter Jackson’s movies where the camera’s floating artistry achieves a kind of poetry. Perhaps Stewart lacks the modicum of skill and shred of likability that a lead actress is supposed to bring.  Whatever the case, Snow White and the Huntsman remains uninvolving. 

It doesn’t help that Stewart as usual looks constipated and bored and bestows that expression upon the audience as well. Chris Hemsworth, who plays the cover model for Medieval England’s Sassiest Bounty Hunter mag, is wasted in a dull thankless role. Charlize Theron, in her career worst as the evil queen Ravenna is hammy enough to fill large sized pepperoni sandwiches. She is as evil as the villains from Kanti Shah’s films and her shape-shifting is as threatening as the monsters from Gyanendra Chowdhary’s horror movies. It’s only a matter of time until clips of her performance arrive on YouTube and become Chris Klein-like viral sensations.

Some of the scenery involving trickling sunrays is truly beautiful; there's one particularly gorgeous enchanted forest scene with an antler and a couple of fairies. Another sequence where Snow White hallucinates the trees and brambles coming to life is haunting.  Sadly Snow White and the Huntsman rambles along from one overproduced scene to another and at the end we're told that the brave will be rewarded handsomely, a message that works as a lie for those who plan to see this film. 

(First published in MiD Day)