Summer 2012 Recap

This summer's selection of movies didn't stray too much from the typical seasonal template: a few films delighted (such as Moonrise Kingdom, the best film Wes Anderson has ever conceived), a few films crashed and burn (such as the star-studded but vapid Rock of Ages) and most failed to live up to audiences' expectations (The Bourne Legacy, The Dark Knight Rises).

Despite kicking off in early May with The Avengers, the record-breaking superhero extravaganza, this summer was one of the least-attended summers on record at North American theatres since 1995 and actually sold around 5% fewer tickets than last year's comparable season (that was buoyed by the final Harry Potter film). 

Unfortunately, this summer movie season will likely be remembered for the disturbing shooting in Aurora, Colo., where 12 people were killed and 58 injured at a midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises. This mass murder disrupted the great pastime of going to the movies for millions of people.

Despite the tragedy, moviegoers still opened their wallets to a diverse amount of mainstream and independent fare. Within the season, I went to see 11 films. Here are small capsule reviews of the finest films, as well as the biggest follies, of the summer. The films are rated out of four stars.

Beasts of the Southern Wild (***½)

Remember the name Quvenzhane (pronounced Kwah-VEN-ja-nay) Wallis, and prove your expertise by enunciating her name correctly when those presenting her with awards next season get it wrong. She was just six years old during the filming of Beasts of the Southern Wild, a striking and deeply compelling glimpse into a vibrant Louisiana shantytown community called “the Bathtub.” Wallis is Hushpuppy, a feisty tot unprepared for the gusty torrents of Hurricane Katrina (which fills her “Bathtub”), and the debilitating health of her father (Dwight Henry) as he tries to teach her how to survive in such squalor. The young actress is a firecracker of equal parts energy and pathos, carrying Benh Zeitlin’s debut – an award winner at Cannes and Sundance – on her tiny shoulders. It’s a debut film that is intense and sensory, like the crackling cajun flavours that heat up the frame, while also deeply moving, especially when Wallis stands front and centre, defiant and proud.

Brave (***½)

Set in the magic kingdom of mystical Scotland, Brave follows Merida (voiced by Kelly Macdonald), a princess that defiantly opposes the stern expectations of her mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson), by aligning herself with sport and adventure. Elinor demands that Merida strive for prim, womanly perfection so a suitor can pick Merida as his bride. The mother-daughter conflict leads to an affront where an act of dark magic stains their relationship and relies on breaking a powerful curse to undo. Toon giant Pixar continues to raise the bar for breathtaking animation, while maintaining its stronghold on creating dynamic character relationships - here done by richly exploring the family ties of some feisty royal Scots. A terrific merge of Disney’s signature classic fairy tale formula with the poignancy and ingenuity that made their animation company the most lucrative (and critically acclaimed) in the world, Pixar’s 13th feature is a return to form after their first disposable offering, Cars 2, was released in 2011.

The Dark Knight Rises (***)

The finale to one of this century’s greatest big-budget franchises, Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, is arresting, although unwieldy, entertainment. Eight years after Batman becomes Gotham’s scapegoat to cover up the fall of famed attorney Harvey Dent, Bruce Wayne (a commanding Christian Bale) decides to don the suit once more. His adversaries include a super-strong terrorist with a face-hugging mask named Bane (Tom Hardy) and Selena Kyle, a slithery jewel thief (Anne Hathaway), while his allies include noble police officer Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). Nolan’s film remains steeped in contemporary conflict, from the social and financial instability that launched the Occupy movement to fears of nuclear catastrophe. As a result, Rises has a simmering urgency and intensity, as well as a moral greyness, that more simplistic action spectacles lack. But while Nolan’s other installments were taut and thrilling, his finale feels weighed down by an abundance of characters and exposition.

The Bourne Legacy (**½)

Author Eric Van Lustbader took the reins of Robert Ludlum’s bestsellers after the late novelist died in 2001. Meanwhile, Jeremy Renner takes the leading role for this updated series, based on Lustbader's follow-up, replacing Matt Damon. But the breathless pacing and taut plotting of the earlier entries, which mirrored Ludlum’s, is in shorter supply here. Renner is intense as Aaron Cross, more perceptive and thorough than Damon’s Bourne. He is joined by a chipper (and terrific) Rachel Weisz as his hostage, a doctor who can help viral him off the drugs that genetically enhanced Cross to kill. Legacy has strong performances and punchy action sequences (including a chilling lone man shooting at a science lab), but it is an inefficient film. It sets up the story instead of following through with it. Perhaps siphoning off some of the oblique office-set scene, featuring a panicked Edward Norton, and less jetpacking around the world could have saved some time.

Safety Not Guaranteed (**½ )

A six sentence classified ad may be a peculiar inspiration for a feature-length film, although for one as modest as Safety Not Guaranteed, a charming if thinly drawn sci-fi comedy, it works just fine. If remembered for anything, it will be for turning actress Aubrey Plaza from a queen of deadpan quirk on the small screen to a nuanced big screen star. She plays Darius, a shy college grad interning for a Seattle publication, who ends up befriending Kenneth (Mark Duplass), the subject of an investigative report she pursues. He wrote a mysterious wanted ad asking for a partner to go back in time with him, insisting that this expedition is not a joke. Duplass and Plaza are terrific as lonesome strangers looking for enlightenment and their heartfelt chemistry elevates Safety above the sitcommy extensions of Derek Connolly’s script. Subplots involving Darius’s co-workers, a smarmy, demoralizing writer (Jake Johnson) and a nervous South Asian intern (Karan Soni) are thinly conceived and merely reinforce the themes of the film without bringing added depth.

The Campaign (**)

Director Jay Roach helmed two of the most successful comedy franchises of all time (Austin Powers, Meet the Parents) and brought two exciting election stories to HBO with the films Recount and Game Change. So, his latest project, an attempt to bridge his broad, big-screen farces with his sharper, scandalous political fare, should have been a home run. However, Roach and writers Chris Henchy and Shawn Harwell go for the obvious rhetoric and rhyme when a slyly, more satirical angle would work best with The Campaign, which stars Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis. Ferrell is Cam Brady, a Democratic Congressman who puts more effort into his soothing crowds with his charming, patriotic speeches than with his political agenda. Galifianakis, meanwhile, is Marty Huggins, a lovably wholesome hick forced to go to desperately lewd measures to unseat the reigning Congressman. When the two comedy titans lead the material, as in several cheeky debate scenes, the results are often frank and funny. But the script delves into sketch comedy territory too often, relying more on caricatures and outrageous sight gags.

Killer Joe (**)

As the slinky part-time detective, part-time eponymous contract killer, Matthew McConaughey deftly skirts the line between chilling and chivalrous. When the actor, currently riding a mid-career boost, is on screen, he is magnetic (to the extent that one of the characters refers to Killer Joe’s menacing glare by saying “his eyes hurt.”) But this sordid piece of Southern suspense-comedy, adapted from a Tracy Letts play and directed by William Friedkin, falters whenever McConaughey vanishes. During these moments, the audience is left to deal with a snivelling family of trailer trash, speaking at various octaves – from Emile Hirsch’s yelping as the drug-dealing son to the virginal signs of Juno Temple’s sacred teenage daughter Dottie. For the film’s duration, McConaughey’s performance is crisply attuned to the bubbling darkness underneath the slick wardrobe. But this Southern dysfunctional variation on Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity sharply veers from family drama to black comedy to campy exploitation without much coherence. 

The Amazing Spider-Man (*½)

In the case of superheroes Batman and The Hulk, rebooted entries can invigorate the character and their story universe with a fresh jolt of quality. Unfortunately, The Amazing Spider-Man, released just five years after the reviled Spider-Man 3, doesn’t. It is a lifeless film with lazy screenwriting and poor characterization. Andrew Garfield is a terrific actor but is entirely unconvincing as high-schooler-cum-webslinger Peter Parker, too old and not nebbish enough to make an impression. He is surrounded by a plot woven by scenes so mechanically composed, they feel contrived. In several moments, the characters behave as if controlled by mannequin screenwriters, ushering them to behave in one way to pertain to the web of the story instead of letting them act and react organically. The action feels forced while the action sequences and CGI are just as unconvincing. The Amazing Spider-Man doesn’t come close to living up to its hyperbolic title. It’s just an astonishingly insipid and unnecessary remake that removes the campy thrills made Raimi’s installments so much fun.

Ruby Sparks (*½)

Ruby Sparks is a high-concept dramedy with the fantastical premise of a struggling, paranoid writer, Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano) realizing that the character he is writing can actually come to life in front of him and be controlled by his words. She is the title character and is played by Dano’s real-life girlfriend, Zoe Kazan. The film, the sophomore feature from Little Miss Sunshine directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris (also a couple), has the opportunity to appeal as both a comedy and a tragedy. It could be the former by highlighting the quirkiness of the circumstances, showing the unpredictability of a relationship nurtured between a writer and his character (and their eventual best-selling life together). It could also be tragic by aligning Calvin and Ruby with a master-slave dynamic, having her actions continually submit to his thoughts and words. However, Ruby Sparks – which was written by Kazan, the granddaughter of director Elia – never figures out what it wants to be and meanders from scene to scene without much of a destination for these twee characters and the peculiar premise. Sparks has a clever idea that never fully forms into much of a film.

Ted (*½)

Ted is a story about a boy and his teddy bear. But since the film comes from the mind of lewd Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane, the teddy bear is a profane pothead with a penchant for beautiful blondes. The comedy hit, a debut for MacFarlane, delves its central conflict from the commitment issues that arise when that boy becomes a man (played with deadpan conviction by Mark Wahlberg) and decides to move on, Jackie Paper-style. However, this debut is sophomoric and uneven, where scenes revolve around lame jokes – possibly ones found under the writing room tables from the handful of shows MacFarlane produces – instead of story progression. Strangely, it’s the raunchy talking teddy who is given the most humanity. Everyone else is a walking stereotype: the women are often shallow, dim-witted and long legged, while the men are clumsy or spiteful, usually both. Meanwhile, the results of the comedic setups are only intermittently funny. Ted would feel more at home on the small-screen sitcom format where 22-minute bursts of subversive humour would work better than this 106-minute breath that continually feels as if it clinging for comedy air.

Rock of Ages (*)

Rock of Ages, based on the Broadway jukebox musical, is the cinematic equivalent of listening to Starship’s 1985 single, “We Built This City,” on repeat for two hours. Like the much-maligned song, it has the spirit of rock and roll at its soul but delivers this message with such airless artifice that it ironically undercuts the power of its subject. The film transforms the throttle and sexuality of a 1980s rock ballad into sugary pop music, while trying to balance four mediocre plot strands. The one given the most screentime is a bland puppy love romance between Julianne Hough and Diego Boneta, who barely make an impression. Meanwhile, Tom Cruise oozes a faint glimmer of sex appeal, not an ounce of body fat and – like the rest of the cast – a merely satisfactory vocal range as Stacee Jaxx, a coked out, mink-wearing, Bret Michaels-Axl Rose hybrid. As difficult as it is to loathe the well-meaning ensemble, including such actors as Alec Baldwin and Catherine Zeta-Jones, several of their musical numbers are torturous to endure. Few of them have the vocal chops to convincingly sell such ache and grind. This tone-deaf movie never ends: it goes on and on and on and on.