#74. Pacific Rim (2013)

 

Guillermo del Toro makes action movies with the energy of a ten-year-old boy - and I mostly mean that as a compliment. Like, even when the results aren't to my taste, his enthusiasm is so palpable, and his artistry is of strong enough quality, that there's something infectious about it.

 

Take Pacific Rim, possibly his dumbest movie to date. The dialogue and characterizations and arcs are about as elementary as they come, and the premise is literally Robots vs. Aliens. I won't pretend that it's is my preferred brand of action, but I place this one above, say, a Transformers sequel thanks to its visual quality. And I'm not referring to the battle sequences (they're mostly bland and muddy), but the dialogue scenes, which contain enough stylistic weirdness and bioluminescent beauty to frequently remind you that an actual filmmaker was in control here.

 

It also helps that del Toro keeps everything relatively simple and dynamic, and his understanding of things like pacing and focus allows the rest of us to actually follow - and moderately care about - what's going on.

 

Grade: B

 

#73. The Big Blue (1988)

 

This movie's probably too much. It's almost three hours long, it's overblown, it's melodramatic, it's cheesy and sentimental as hell, and it contains zero subtlety. But I tend to be a sucker for those adolescent qualities, especially when they're drenched in atmosphere and nostalgia, so I was generally able to go along with it.

 

As you'd expect, the strongest sequences in The Big Blue are the ocean-related ones. This movie really captures the wonder and terrifying beauty of that mystical place, with nature doc-worthy photography and a portrayal reverent enough to put James Cameron to shame. And while the human element's not quite as strong (though maybe that's the idea; Jacques is clearly only happy when he's underwater or engaging with dolphins), I like the friendly rivalry between the two male leads, and Arquette and Reno give fairly affable performances, over-the-top as they are.

 

Is this movie as deep or complex as the setting its depicting? Not especially. But there's a hypnotic and cartoonish quality to it that I nevertheless found mesmerizing.

 

Grade: B+ 

 

#72. 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag (1997)

 

Yeah, I'm aware that this one has always had an absolutely abysmal reputation, but it's got too many of my cinematic vices (a crime story, some dark comedy, and Joe Pesci, to name three) for me not to have been a little curious. And it's probably thanks to those vices that I didn't hate the movie as much as most people seem to.

 

Granted, that's not to say that I liked it. The movie never quite manages to live up to its amusingly gruesome premise, the plot's too convoluted, a lot of the comedy doesn't land (especially the more exaggerated moments, which fly in the face of the darker subject matter), and Andy Comeau is just terrible as the co-lead. No offense to the guy, but pretty much anybody else would've been better suited for that role.

 

Again, though, the crime-comedy elements were generally my speed, especially when the movie wasn't afraid to get a little weird and macabre (the two best examples being the "Mr. Sandman" dream sequence and the instance where an obnoxious character suddenly gets thrown from a vehicle off a cliff). I'm verging on calling this one underrated, but that's not necessarily a hill I'd be willing to die on.

 

Grade: B-

 

#71. Trap (2024)

 

 

Ever since the mid-2000s, when his credibility somersaulted off a cliff, M. Night Shyamalan has settled into something of a B-movie career. Credit to him for knowing his lane, and for remaining an auteur in the meantime, but I feel like this course-correction has resulted in some people giving him way too much slack in the effort department.

 

Trap has the usual Shyamalan trappings (no pun intended) of alien performances and dialogue that makes you question whether the man has ever had a normal conversation in his entire life, but we like those qualities. They're what make him Shyamalan. What I don't like is how lazy his writing has gotten. This script feels like a first draft, switching from one protagonist to the next seemingly at random, and ultimately playing out as though he had no idea where any of it actually leads. Plus, all the police stuff is downright idiotic.

 

Unlike the worst that this director has to offer, though, the movie's not gratingly smug or self-serious. The first half is actually pretty funny, and funny in a way that feels a lot more intentional than, say, The Happening. I think a lot of that has to do with Hartnett's performance. The more this guy tries to be on-the-level, the more he comes off like a serial killer. 

 

Grade: B-

 

#70. Born on the Fourth of July (1989)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1 

 

Oliver Stone's greatest strength is also arguably his greatest weakness, and that's that his movies are so passionate that they tend to come off as preachy and overblown. But while this is undeniably true of Born on the Fourth of July, it's also so committed and vulnerable and openly satirical that it actually feels somewhat refreshing in today's landscape.

 

Unlike a lot of biopics, especially in recent years, this movie opts to depict its subject with unapologetic frankness. You can tell that Stone cares about Ron Kovic, but he also doesn't shy away from the initial naivete, nor the eventual depravity. This is a stark and comprehensive portrait of a man who, like many, was seduced and then abandoned by an American myth, and Tom Cruise goes all out (even by Tom Cruise standards) in attempting to capture him.

 

Also unlike a lot of biopics, Stone keeps this one fresh and interesting through some subversive tonal storytelling. The opening act is pure Norman Rockwell Americana, with a presentation so idealistic and over-the-top that the sudden, almost Lynchian change in mood feels all the more horrific.

 

Grade: A

 

#69. The French Dispatch (2021)

 

A.K.A. The French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun 

 

You always know a Wes Anderson movie when you see one. And while you could certainly argue that his quirky and artificial visual palette has grown slightly stale over the years, and that he never really branches out or challenges himself, I at least appreciate that the man has a unique voice and a trademark style. It's what allows me to get sucked into his worlds, even when I'm not particularly interested in what they have to say. 

 

Such is the case with The French Dispatch (I'm not typing out that entire title again). After Isle of Dogs, it's perhaps the least invested I've ever been in any of his narratives, and the writing here is so verbose relative to what's actually being said that Anderson's verging even closer to self-important territory, yet I still found myself being taken by the framing, the casting, the amusing subtitles, and the sparing use of colour. Once again, that goddamn aesthetic won me over.

 

The anthology structuring is also pretty cute. It makes for a slightly uneven result (the first story tickled me, the second one very much didn't, and the third fell somewhere in between), and doesn't leave much room for emotional involvement, but I think it fits Anderson's dollhouse vibe remarkably well.

 

Grade: B+

 

#68. Electric Dreams (1984)

 

 

As a story, Electric Dreams isn't particularly interesting. I mean, there's a certain innocence to the movie that's kinda sweet, and I guess the A.I. stuff has held up pretty well, but I didn't really care about the two protagonists, nor their relationship, nor the fact that this self-aware computer was constantly trying to thwart them. It's all oddly lackluster given the subject matter, which isn't helped by the soft direction, weak comedy, and obvious ADR work.

 

But, man, those brief musical interludes come oh so close to making the whole thing worth it to me. There's a healthy portion of them, usually set to the two leads going on dates or whatever, and they really capture that charming, MTV-style '80s aesthetic that we all love so much. These scenes aren't anywhere near as deep as all the attempts at technological commentary, but they're the only moments where the movie actually springs to life.

 

Frankly, if the whole thing came at all close to capturing the pure bliss of that ending montage, where everyone dances to "Together in Electric Dreams" by Phil Oakey and Georgio Moroder (fantastic song, by the way), we almost certainly would've had a winner here.

 

Grade: B-

 

P.S. Lenny Von Dohlen will always be Jernigan from Home Alone 3 to me, so seeing a remote control car in the opening scene made me laugh.