The Hills Have Eyes, The Woods Have Brains

The Cabin in the Woods

*** out of ****

Directed by: Drew Goddard

Starring: Kristin Connolly, Fran Kranz, Chris Hemsworth, Jesse Williams and Anna Hutchison

Running time: 95 minutes

The Cabin in the Woods takes up double-duty honours as an engaging and inventive frighthouse flick and a howlingly funny send-up of rehashed horror archetypes.

It is terrific fun for those who are big fans of horror fare (at least, films released before the darker days of sadistic torture porn offerings that mixed up shocking the censors for giving genuine scares) and those who tend to avoid scary movies. Both audiences will find much to laugh at, whether it is at obscure genre references or by mocking the stock characters and situations that co-writers Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard cunningly borrow and rework.

Since many of the film’s more intriguing pleasures come from the surprises that Whedon and Goddard throw at the audience, here is the crux of the plot in deceptively simple terms. Five college kids decide to spend a tranquil weekend at a cabin in an abandoned backwoods region.

Among these tempestuous teens are arrogant med-schooler Curt (Chris Hemsworth), his scantily clad girlfriend Jules (Anna Hutchison), Jules’s couth sister Dana (Kristin Connolly, a standout) and the eye candy, Holden (Jesse Williams, not as much) that Jules has brought along to offer Dana a romantic time.

Joining in for this vacation is quippy stoner Marty (Fran Kranz), who clues in to the horror lurking in the woods much quicker than the others.

The setting is just like an ordinary lakeside cabin that one would find in an average horror film: the doors creak, the fireplace crackles, the décor is homely, and the basement is full of bizarre paraphernalia from the family who once lived there.

However, Whedon and Goddard’s sly send-up of the genre is far from the scope of your mundane horror outing. They toy with the general climate of the setting, which bears a striking similarity to the cabin from Evil Dead, and then unleash their own subversive and wildly original story developments.

The writers poke fun at audience voyeurism and illogical decision-making skills, made when the inane characters decide to pursue and extinguish the demonic forces around them. While the scares are predictable, the lurking forces in these dark woods and the motives behind them are purely inspired.

To spoil things further would be criminal since the conceptual device that motivates the action in the cabin is both delightfully satisfying and preposterously convoluted. The more one lets Whedon and Goddard lift the carpet from underneath them, the more one can revel in the film's giddy absurdity.

The rapturous climax of Woods serves as one of the most hellishly enjoyable sequences this reviewer can remember. However, it is stifled by a deadening final scene, where a big star (who is no stranger to cameo appearances) walks in and laboriously explains everything that the film had already hinted at.

The convoluted concept is simultaneously thrilling and unconvincing. Nevertheless, it is refreshing to see a film so eager to fool around with the genre conventions, both frightening and tiresome, to help take the deconstruction to a new level. It’s glorious fun to watch Whedon and Goddard unfurl the layers to Cabin's madness, even if some of the explanation to this glory is maddeningly hackneyed.

Life Has a Way of Confusing Us, Blessing and Bruising Us

Footnote

*** out of ****

Directed by: Joseph Cedar

Starring: Shlomo Bar-Aba, Lior Ashkenazi, Alma Zack, Yuval Scharf and Micah Lewensohn

Running time: 106 minutes

Footnote is a quirky, colourful drama from Israel and a Foreign Language film nominee at the Oscars earlier this year. The film examines the relationship between a father and son, both accomplished Talmudic scholars in present-day Jerusalem.

The father, Prof. Eliezer Shkolnik (Shlomo Bar-Aba), spent close to 30 years researching different manuscripts of the Jerusalem Talmud, only to have another scholar, Yehuda Grossman (Micah Lewensohn), beat him to the chase and publish the same findings first.

The son, Prof. Uriel Shkolnik (Lior Ashkenazi), is a populist, favouring new methods of research and penning books about social issues in ancient times.

Both men’s offices are stacked with towers of texts, usually a signifier of knowledge, yet both men are unpractical. They know awfully little about communicating with each other.

The schism between father and son comes to a front when Eliezer is nominated for the Israel Prize, a major honour that Eliezer submitted his name for repeatedly. The conflict does not come from a jealousy between them, though, but a big misunderstanding.

The call for Eliezer was a mistake and should have gone to the other Prof. Shkolnik. Uriel learns of his triumph and the grave error from the committee chair: a crinkled, nasty Grossman – now the sealer of Eliezer’s disgruntlement for a second time.

The film is written and directed by American-born Israeli Joseph Cedar. Cedar manages to turn a film with very limited subject matter – Talmudic professorship – into a rollicking suspense-comedy, full of a cacophonous stringed score, surprising plot turns and suspenseful lead-ups to character interactions. From a subject so antiquated, a style so boldly executed is a relief.

The film’s most creative flourish is several montages. Both father and son are introduced in slide-formatted presentations, explaining their history, professional etiquette, favourite sayings (“You cannot base evidence on fools,” Eliezer quips), and other colourful anecdotes.

Bar-Aba, known for his comic chops in Israel, is superb as the grinchy Eliezer. He is twitchy and bitter in the film’s opening scene, when Uriel picks up a prestigious recognition from an Israeli Academy.

As Uriel thanks his father for committing him down the road of teaching, the camera doesn’t shy away from Eliezer’s stony reaction. He shuffles in his seat, looks bitter and never glances up at his son – a parental figure not full of pride but bottled rage.

He is not roused by his son’s accomplishments, which he believes are minor and superficial. Bar-Aba does a wonderful job expressing his envy without uttering a word.

However, Footnote abruptly ends with a cut to black that cops out the story instead of offering these two souls the closure they deserve. While ambiguous endings have become the popular way to tantalize an audience as the end credits roll, the film could have benefitted from explanation and not interpretation.

Moviegoers expect closure with a story as psychologically straightforward as Footnote’s. They are not as ready for interpretation when explanation will do just fine. They are not Talmudic scholars.

Hot Ice

Goon

**1/2 out of ****

Directed by: Michael Dowse

Starring: Seann William Scott, Alison Pill, Jay Baruchel, Marc-André Grondin and Liev Schreiber

Running time: 91 minutes

The most refreshing thing about Goon, a riotous and funny (although not riotously funny) hockey comedy about a young adult recruited by a minor-league team to drop the gloves and fight, is how infrequently the film glorifies that on-ice violence.

Given the recent controversies about fighting in hockey reaching levels of gladiatorial amusement while posing a threat to players, the film thankfully doesn’t encourage the violence as bloodsport. Instead, Goon relishes in the art of war on ice as a defense mechanism to protect a teammate.

The bare-knuckled protagonist that the title refers to, Doug Glatt (Seann William Scott), is not a brute, but warm-hearted and wholesome.

By day, Doug hangs around with his friend, Pat (an annoying Jay Baruchel, who co-wrote the script with Superbad scribe Evan Goldberg). Pat is a sports junkie and profane talk-show host. By night, Doug works as security at a sports bar, pummelling those who cause trouble.

One night at a minor league game, Doug brawls a player who lunges into the crowd to attack Pat. Doug’s victory becomes an overnight viral sensation, intriguing the coach (Kim Coates) of a Halifax minor league team, the Highlanders. The Nova Scotia enterprise is struggling to enter their division’s playoff race. The coach calls Doug and offers him a job as a hockey player.

Doug’s transition to minor league stardom is not a smooth one: he has not put on skates in years and lags exponentially behind his teammates in practices. Meanwhile, he is rooming with a gnarly hockey prospect, Xavier Laflamme (Marc-André Grondin, best known for the Canadian comedy C.R.A.Z.Y.), who arrives at skates hungover and uninspired. Meanwhile, he falls in love with Eva (a charming Alison Pill), an affectionate hockey fan with relationship issues.

The shining point of Goon’s terrific ensemble is a scruffy veteran enforcer with a handlebar mustache named Ross Rhea, and Liev Schreiber plays him with delightful intensity.

Rounding out the supporting cast is a crew of ethnic stereotypes playing Doug’s teammates. They are a rowdy bunch of insolent boys in grown-up bodies that love to use a word that rhymes with “puck.” Most of their comedy schtick hits the boards and falls sourly.

Meanwhile, Scott’s is ruthlessly nice as the hard bodied yet soft at heart protagonist. He has no reason to fight except to be a protector. It’s an affecting performance; when Doug takes one for the team, he really bleeds.

Goon goes through the conventional sports-genre hoops and could have stretched its slender running time to give the supporting players more to do. Director Michael Dowse also should have further utilized the “puck-cam” perspective more (that cool technique happens in one game and then vanishes).

Nevertheless, what’s most miraculous about this soon-to-be cult classic from Canada is how the film does not glorify grandiose, gladiatorial machismo. There is a tender heart underneath the chaos, and it makes this hit-and-miss comedy an easier one to root for.

The Girl Who Played With Fire

The Hunger Games

*** out of ****

Directed by: Gary Ross

Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Woody Harrelson, Liam Hemsworth and Stanley Tucci

Running time: 142 minutes

The Hunger Games is more than a Battle Royale with cheese. Based off a hugely popular trilogy of books by Suzanne Collins that draws inspiration from other works, the film mixes up these source elements and adds its own ingredients – captivating characters and ingenious plotting, among them.

Does the film adaptation grasp the novel’s impalpable intensity and excitement? Mostly.

For the uninitiated, The Hunger Games takes place in the nation of Panem, which consists of a bourgeois Capitol and twelve surrounding districts. Around 75 years ago, the districts rose up to usurp the Capitol’s power and lost.

To remind Panem’s citizens of just how powerless they are, the Capitol hosts a competition each year called The Hunger Games. One girl and one boy aged 12 to 18 from each district compete in a fight to the death until one sole survivor remains.

At the start of the film, Katniss Everdeen, (Jennifer Lawrence), hunts game with her close confidante, Gale (Liam Hemsworth) in the forests outside their district, the twelfth. She is the provider for her mother and younger sister, Prim (Willow Shields), since food rations are limited. (Think of Katniss as an extension of Ree Dolly, the heroine that Lawrence portrayed in the Oscar-nominated thriller Winter's Bone.)

Katniss becomes the hunted, however, when she volunteers to be her district’s representative in the Games. Joining Katniss in the arena is Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), the son of the district’s baker.

But before the Games commence, Katniss and Peeta have training to do. Staying in the plush Capitol, they are given ample time to train with weapons, get advice from their district’s mentor – an agitated, sarcastic drunkard named Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) – and smile for the garishly dressed crowds of onlookers that are feasting for the much-hyped competition.

Peeta plays it cool and soaks in the limelight, while Katniss is decidedly more reserved, although her bow and arrow skills impress game-maker Seneca Crane (Wes Bentley). Rounding out the colourful supporting cast is Elizabeth Banks as haughty chaperone Effie Trinket, Lenny Kravitz as debonair stylist Cinna, and Stanley Tucci as the flamboyant TV host Caesar Flickerman.

The name Katniss comes from a plant that is rooted in muddy water. Katniss is a strong-willed, independent warrior that stands for resistance from a muddy, decrepit life – like the way that flower stands in muddy water.

Since Katniss is the fierce soul of the novels, Jennifer Lawrence’s portrayal proves to be the film adaptation’s sharpest weapon. Virile and commanding even as she nurses her own trembling vulnerabilities, Lawrence is the anchor of this well-paced, gripping thriller that could have been more effective if a director without such a muddled vision had been behind the camera.

In earlier sections, director and co-writer Gary Ross (Seabiscuit) uses a handheld approach to lend a documentary-like realism to District 12’s ashy, battered atmosphere. This gritty aesthetic should have been abandoned as soon as the players take their place in the Games course. Here, the shaky camera becomes distracting. Jittering in close-ups as youths are hacked to bits, the camera disorients the onscreen action, bringing chaos when clarity is needed.

Regardless, the tone of the film remains somber throughout, thanks to a wonderful ensemble that grasp the harsh reality of Collins’ chilling dystopian universe. Still, Ross should have treaded into darker territory more often. The idea of kids (well, young adults) annihilating kids is horrifying, and the attitudes that propel this violence are ripe for commentary and discussion.

Ross - whose debut film, Pleasantville, was a sharp satire about political repression - should have gone for the jugular with the subject matter. While these Hunger Games are gripping, they are also safe.

Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls

Jeff, Who Lives at Home

** out of ****

Directed by: Jay and Mark Duplass

Starring: Jason Segal, Ed Helms, Susan Sarandon, Judy Greer and Rae Dawn Chong

Running time: 84 minutes

Jeff, Who Lives at Home is a slight indie with modest charm that, like its drifting stoner protagonist, aims to be average. It succeeds on that level.

The title character is a happy shlump played with gawky sweetness by Jason Segal. Beyond locking himself in his mother’s basement to smoke weed, watch infomercials and avoid any form of work, Jeff is deeply interested in destiny and happenstance.

Jeff believes that series of random occurrences will eventually surmise into a moment of perfection. He would rather leave his own life’s path to faith than his own actions.

One afternoon, dressed in a dark grey sweatshirt and baggy shorts, destiny calls Jeff out of hibernation. Aimlessly drifting through Baton Rouge, he bumps into his brother, Pat (Ed Helms).

Although Pat is married and employed, he has not noticed that his wife, Linda (played by Judy Greer, charting similar territory to her recent turn in The Descendants), is unsatisfied with him. Pat has kept a closer eye on his bank account and recently bought a Porsche Boxster without Linda’s approval. He hears the brunt of her disgust regarding the two-seater over cereal.

Pat and Jeff do not get along, rarely see each other and have different outlooks on life – Pat is a pragmatist and Jeff an idealist. However, the brothers both shut out females who are close to them: Pat with Linda, and Jeff with his mother, a bored, cubicled near-retiree played by Susan Sarandon, whose subplot regarding a secret admirer is thin but amusing.

This exercise in ponderous ordinariness comes from the Duplass Brothers, whose films, like the ignored 2010 gem Cyrus, are stripped down yet awkwardly endearing comedy-dramas.

The Duplasses do not shoot their scenes as much as place the camera down and play around with the zoom button. Sometimes their reliance on this technique helps to get a sardonic reaction shot. In other times, it is jittery and irritating.

The Duplasses are wry observers of human behaviour, but their script for Jeff, Who Lives at Home is standard. The casting is both a strong point and a weakness for the film. Since the actors are playing characters similar to others in their oeuvres – Segal in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Helms on The Office – their performances feel more rehashed than revitalizing.

The film’s tone is also off-putting. We start by laughing at the meek imperfections of the brothers, but as their heads collide and the film drifts into serious territory, the film keeps its light tone.

A tranquil jingle of a musical score plays in the background of nearly every scene, regardless of the mood, making later scenes disruptively tone-deaf. This makes way for a convenient, hackneyed, falsely uplifting ending.

The conclusion aims for catharsis, but doesn't flow of the rest of the film. It is a botched, lazy attempt to redeem the characters’ misdeeds that, unfortunately, does not feel earned.