Third Time's Charming

'Toy Story 3'

Review: 3.5/5

'Toy Story 3' has a simple premise, a formulaic structure, and a sincere generosity and respect for the spectator. In this third outing directed by Lee Unkrich, Disney and Pixar clearly attempt to push and even redefine the tonal bounds of animated filmmaking, hinging the film's plot on a premise outlined in the macabre. It's an unusual and often times pleasantly unnerving atmosphere, but it too often cowers to the sugar-coated Disney paradigm, ultimately resulting in an overly melodramatic stagnation.

In this 'Story' toy-owner 'Andy' is seventeen and moving off to college. His mother tells him to get rid of his toys, much to the dismay of 'Woody' and 'Buzz Lightyear.' Their plan? Well, the attic can't be so bad, can it? All signs of basic story principles remain at the behest of the Disney regime, with product placement as a platform for narrative acceleration (a brief sequence involving Barbie, Ken, and his decadent closet is just distasteful and borderline perverted), and a long-standing pun involving an overly histrionic 'Buzz' and a stereotyped Spanish caricature is unashamedly demented. These few moments, coupled with a sinister overtone never quite manifest into something bold or revolutionary. It's as if Spike Jonze directed a Nicholas Sparks adaptation. It's uneven.

The film's denouement is characteristically Disney, and that's not to assert it's unearned. In fact, for anyone with an ounce of humanity, it's difficult not to absorb the emotional fragility that's at stake in the final scenes, particularly the final shot which is, to say the least, iconic. Yet, as well-deserved and pleasant as it is, the film initially paved a trail cloaked in an ominous despair, and the results are all too polite.

Competing Sociopathic Worlds: Pretentiousness Intact

'Cyrus'

Review: 3/5

Don't be mislead by the headline. The Duplass brothers' raw, though ultimately genuine, study of the darker and more unassuming upper middle-class 'City of Angels' is delicately charmed, with an abnormal touch of gloom. It's peculiar trio of paranoid, anxiety-ridden Los Angelenos oscillate consistently between gentle confidence and humor-inducing self-deprecation. Each primary player has their own emotional baggage; from Cyrus' (Jonah Hill) borderline oedipal complex to John's (John C. Reilly) alarming emotive boldness, they each share a bizarre sense of realism shadowed by an all encompassing insecurity that fuels the film's most humorous moments, as well as the brutally honest departures into humanity.

Structured and shot adhering to the new 'mumblecore' vogue, the Duplass brothers are evidently trying to table their reliance on flat, faux-eccentric dialogue that serves no distinct purpose other than to add a sense of artificial authenticity to the 'mumblecore' avant-garde. In 'Cyrus,' it's clear that the directors have acknowledged their past flaws (if one can refer to them as such), and have centered their attention on a very simple story about a man vying to escape his loneliness. Many spectators can relate, I presume.

The film, with its overwhelmingly indie predisposition doesn't offer much in terms of aesthetic flavor; it's a bland palate of stale blues, greens, and greys. That's not to say the visual style doesn't work completely. Aside from the annoyingly self-reflexive camerawork (at times it seems cinematographer Jas Shelton is attempting to mimic the 'Bourne' aesthetic with unmotivated pop-zooms and deliberately unfocused establishing shots). Nonetheless the film aspires to be open and heartfelt, and, for the most part, it is.

Grade 'A' Summer Action

'The A-Team'

Review: 4/5

Director Joe Carnahan isn't one for idiosyncratic, quiet moments of human drama. He doesn't purport to study or understand the psychology of a team of wrongly accused war veterans, but instead prefers to focus on their unusual, often times flippant camaraderie, generated out of a devotion to fanatic, impractical military undertakings. That these tasks are highly implausible in reality is of unjust critique. Take note of Captain Hannibal's advice: "Sometimes overkill is underrated." - Carnahan's 'A-Team' adheres to a frenzied, mad-dash day-to-day, and he's fully aware, pushing the 'ridiculous' factor to a frenetic maximum.

The players in this gleefully unhinged, sky-high pageant of merry destruction give the film a stable foundation for the plot's dismissive flaws. Bradley Cooper as the charismatic 'Face' brings charm and humor to each absurd situation the team finds themselves in, and Sharlto Copley (the manic 'Wikus' from Neill Blomkamp's 'District 9') as the literally insane, helicopter flying 'Murdock' are the film's standouts; though Liam Neeson's 'Hannibal' does share a striking demeanor with his own 'Bryan Mills' character from the adrenaline-fueled 'Taken.'

All together, between Neeson's firm and calculating nature, Copley's hyper-inane antics, and Carnahan's assured direction, 'The A-Team' is definitely grade-A.