Gravity (2013)

“Life in space is impossible.” These are the words that first appear on screen in “Gravity”, the new film released on October 4^th, by Alfonso Cuarón (“Children of Men”, “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban”) and these are the words that set the tone for the rest of the movie. The story is exceedingly simple; at its heart, “Gravity” is your run-of-the-mill story of survival set among the stars. Its narrative arc is completely predictable and in typical Hollywood fashion, its characters escape danger at the last possible second. With its opening words, however, the fragility of the human body against a backdrop of a larger universe totally incognizant of our insignificance is something that cannot be forgotten. That the astronauts, with only their space suits to protect them, won’t end up like their colleagues once exposed to an environment devoid of life — frozen, with faces shattered and caved in — is something that is kept in mind throughout the film. Oddly poignant objects drift past the camera lens at select moments — a Marvin the Martian doll, a ping pong paddle, a single teardrop — against a floating Earth and it’s these moments that present a strange juxtaposition between humanity and the cosmos.

To me, “Gravity” is not a science fiction movie. Unlike so many other science fiction thrillers that happen to take place in space, “Gravity” is not concerned with alien fights and warp speed travel. In fact, the only real threat that propels the film forward is flying space debris. Space itself is the movie’s focus because space is fascinating and terrifying enough to keep the movie going without threats from extraterrestrial life and the aid of futuristic toys. Auroras travelling across Earth’s surface and the constant orbital rotation of the stars form the background against which the astronauts fight for survival. Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) takes a few moments to admire the sunrise over the Ganges during all this; it’s hard not to wonder at the beauty of the universe through it all and to feel completely insignificant when looking at Earth from afar. Comparisons to Ang Lee’s “Life of Pi” almost can’t be avoided with cinematography as spectacular as that of this film. While “Life of Pi” makes Earth beautiful, Emmanuel Lubezki, Cuarón’s regular cinematographer, makes space breathtaking in its realism.

“Gravity” is not without its flaws; the script and dialogue are unremarkable at best. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), a first-time space traveller, is annoyingly helpless without Kowalski at the start of the movie. The side story of the death of Stone’s 4-year-old daughter is completely unnecessary and added in solely to give an emotional dimensionality to Stone’s character; it gives Stone a reason for living. With shots of Earth’s lights in an otherwise infinite nothingness, the struggle of a stranded astronaut to get home is more than enough to keep the film moving. These shortcomings, however, do nothing to dent the movie’s awesomeness, a word well deserved by the film’s truly awe-inspiring and spectacular depiction of the cosmos. It certainly helps that Sandra Bullock gives one of the best physical performances I’ve ever seen by delivering essentially a one-woman show during which she twists, turns, and swims to suggest a plausible environment that defy the regular laws of physics on Earth through gestures in a studio simulation. After Sandra’s character slips out of her spacesuit and into a oxygen-filled escape pod, the audience is given a memorable image of a sort of poetic rebirth in the amniotic fluid of our universe.

“Gravity” inspires a certain “How did they do that?” reaction, even to the most jaded viewers, and that’s a reaction very rarely achieved by many of the films today. It’s not noticeable during its viewing when the audience is transported to space alongside a floating camera lens, but Cuarón manages to rewrite the space genre and movie-making as a whole. With “Gravity”, outer space turns into a very real place bound by very different, but very tangible rules. The movie begins with one of Cuarón’s signature long, unbroken shots and it is in this shot that the genius of where the camera is moving in relation to the action can be seen — it sometimes feels as if the Earth’s rotation is controlling the shot and it can be hard to remember that almost everything in the movie, down to the character’s costumes, was edited in. The shots are done with such technical precision that shifts in perspective transition smoothly when the camera lens float from the macro scale, where the astronauts are just miniature specks against the Earth’s horizon, to the micro scale, where individual nuts and bolts from the shuttle float past the lens, as the lens drift slowly from outside to inside a character’s space helmet, seamlessly shifting to first person. The film allows the audience to float alongside the astronauts in zero G, as the stars travel around them.

Oscar nominations for best actress, cinematography, and direction are to be expected with a masterpiece like “Gravity”. I’m just sad I did not watch the film in IMAX 3D. When the struggle for life in an otherwise terrifying and unknown space of simultaneous nothingness and infiniteness is thrown at us for a solid 90 minutes, I have a newfound appreciation for a world where life is tedious, complicated, sad, and comfortable, but entirely possible.

Note: This article made its first appearance in The Cavalier Daily. This is the original, unedited review.

Phoenix at the nTelos Wireless Pavilion

On September 1st, 2013, Phoenix performed at the nTelos Wireless Pavilion and while I was not what you would call a diehard Phoenix fan walking in, I definitely became one walking out--most good concerts generally tend to have that effect.

Silhouettes of the band stood against a screen of flashing colors and scenes of the streets of Paris. Thomas Mars fell into the crowd and though I nearly suffocated by the sheer number of bodies rushing forward towards the stage, it was clear he had a real love for his fans (and I stood directly beneath him as he stood up supported solely by my and fellow devoted fans' hands).

When Thomas Mars stepped off the stage to serenade the audience with an acoustic version of "Countdown", there was just no denying Phoenix's abilities as fantastic live performers. 

The Wolverine (2013)

The Wolverine works as a stand-alone film. I know this because I walked into the movie theater with only the vague memory of X-Men: First Class (the only X-Men film I'd previously seen) and the widespread consensus on X-Men Origins: Wolverine's mediocrity (my expectations for The Wolverine were low) to guide me.

While I'm not particularly familiar with director James Mangold's previous works, I do realize he is not an action director in the classic sense of the term; his more renowned films (Girl, Interrupted and Walk the Line) are dramas, not huge Hollywood action flicks. Consequently, a basic reflection of Logan's character underlies The Wolverine's flashy action sequences, not unlike the deconstruction of almost all our favorite comic book superheroes à la Iron Man in Iron Man 3 and Batman in The Dark Knight Rises.

An existential crisis is in order when immortality has come to define you, and Logan, who has outlived everyone he once loved, has long lost his reason for living. That is, until a beautiful girl predictably plops into his life and he's faced with the choice between his immortality and the opportunity to live and die as any normal person would. Fights with ninjas are fought and if you're in it for Hugh Jackman, you won't be disappointed; he spends no shortage of time shirtless, so that we may bask in all his muscular glory. I suppose you could call the Viper a villain, but I'm not entirely sure she deserves the title. Other than serving to wear a ridiculous green cartoony outfit, she's a worthless villain and a rather useless character. Don't even get me started on Harada, the supposed sworn "protector" of Logan's love interest and the most incompetent ninja ever to have existed.

Useless characters aside, there is never a boring moment in The Wolverine, even as the film begins to fall back into the routine superhero plot with a comic book climax. If anything, you'll certainly get your $11.50's worth of the Wolverine's burly,"I don't care" attitude.

The Cuckoo's Calling (2013)

Even now, six years after the conclusion of an era that defined the collective childhood of an entire generation, the prospect of a new published work by J. K. Rowling is still cause for an unhealthy level of excitement for me; I suppose I've never stopped looking for the magic that ensnared millions elsewhere, particularly in the words of her other books. I wish I could truthfully say I was one of the brave few to have read The Cuckoo's Calling before news of Robert Galbraith's identity was leaked, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, I can't remember the last time I read a book that was not already relatively well-known and well-liked, or at least written by an established author.

Even without knowledge of Rowling's authorship coloring its pages, The Cuckoo's Calling is undoubtedly a masterfully written mystery. Conducted entirely through lengthy dialogue interspersed with artful metaphors and descriptions that took me straight to the streets of London, the ending, in typical Rowling fashion, is completely unexpected and utterly delightful in its unexpectedness (though, I confess, somewhat unsatisfactory). Rowling has a distinct writing style--dry humor weaves itself into its words and each character, dead or alive, is incredibly complex.

It's easy to see why the book was written under a pseudonym; The Cuckoo's Calling is clearly no Harry Potter and that's exactly the kind of comparison I'm sure Rowling was trying to avoid. Admittedly, I'm not sure I would have given a review as positive as this one if the author were truly an unknown man named Robert Galbraith. The novel is not without its flaws and I've certainly read mysteries more captivating than this one. Even so, there is a rumored sequel in the works. You can count on me to be the first in line to buy the book at its midnight release (or not, due to my perpetual state of poorness...college struggles).

Waitressing Adventures

I haven't been a server for very long--this is my second summer working as a waitress and as it would appear, I have once again been delegated the wonderful responsibility of serving greasy gyro and souvlaki sandwiches to my fellow patrons. But even with only two summers of experience under my belt, this particular job has given me an eclectic collection of stories to tell and the somewhat useful ability to have a smile perpetually plastered on my face.

The summer months are particularly slow for a restaurant in a college town; I've been consistently making below minimum wage for the past month and I wasn't expecting to make any more than usual when I went in for my shift earlier today. It was mid-afternoon and just as I was beginning to think I was actually going to lose money coming in to work (neither the parking nor the food is free), an old couple walked in and ordered two Arnold Palmers and a single triple decker sub to share between them. I've always had good experiences with senior citizen customers; they always seem to be fairly decent tippers (though if there's one thing you learn as a server, it's that you can never predict who's going to be a good tipper or not based on appearance alone), but with the meal costing around $11 total, my hopes weren't exactly high.

Throughout the course of their meal, the old man jokingly said things like, "This sandwich is great! Did you make it?" or "The food is fantastic! Would you like some?" in response to my standard, "Is everything alright? Do you need anything?" There are, of course, the customers who shower compliments and endless words of gratitude throughout the meal, only to leave a terrible tip afterwards; words of gratitude, while appreciated, are useless without the corresponding tip!! I'm pretty sure this man, however, was an angel in disguise. Upon leaving the restaurant after a cheery "thank you so much for the great meal", I went to clear the table and collect my tip.

He left a $20 tip for an $11 meal.

It felt like Christmas had come early. He managed to singlehandedly restore my faith in humanity. Happiness can come in many forms and today, it came in the form of unexpected kindness from a good-natured old man.

Watch the music video for The Mowgli's (an excellent band I discovered today) "San Francisco" for an apt depiction of my happiness:

Watching Joseph Gordon-Levitt's dance number to Hall & Oates' "You Make My Dreams" from (500) Days of Summer also works.

This Is the End (2013)

This Is the End is everything you'd expect of a movie both directed and written by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg and I mean this in the best way possible.

Jay Baruchel, who is paying a visit to Seth Rogen in Los Angeles, is dragged to a housewarming party at James Franco's. It's clear that sins of various kinds are committed by a majority of the celebrities in attendance and of course, within the first thirty minutes of the film, when the apocalypse begins to run its course, the sinning actors are thrown into a fiery chasm that opens up in Franco's front yard, leaving only a few remaining survivors trapped in Franco's house. In a movie where actors play exaggerated, tabloid-versions of themselves, it'd be easy to turn the film into a vanity project. Instead, the audience is taken along for the ride and what a ride it is! Funny one-liners and hilarious jokes made at the expense of the actors are thrown at us almost constantly; not even the approach of judgment day can stop quips at Jonah Hill's post-Oscar nomination film choices and Seth Rogen's role in The Green Hornet from being made.

There were certain moments in the film that were strangely terrifying and hilarious simultaneously, which is a feat rarely accomplished by movies claiming to be horror comedies. There are excellent, well-written scenes that parody The Exorcist and Rosemary's Baby; they manage to make a demonic possession comedic. There are very well-endowed devils born from the underworld now running rampant on Earth. The movie, while funnier than I ever expected, was also gorier than expected, with no shortage of bloody killings (Michael Cera gets a particularly gruesome death) and even some cannibalism. A sweet emotional undercurrent runs throughout the film; while this film is as crass and raunchy as you might expect it to be, underlying feelings of hope and ultimately, friendship of the purest kind, ties the movie together.

For those that do not enjoy this particular brand of movie, the kind that exploits crude and sexual humor to as far as society will let it, this movie will not be enjoyable. Those that can get past that will be surprised by just how funny and well-crafted the movie can be.

Now You See Me (2013)

I don't know what I was expecting upon walking into the movie theater--perhaps some newer, better (if that were even possible) version of Christopher Nolan's The Prestige, but I should have learned by now: never walk into a movie theater with high expectations; you're only setting yourself up for the inevitable disappointment. Now You See Me had an excellent premise--four magicians robbing banks through elaborate magic tricks? Count me in! But it never quite lives up to its potential.

Four magicians, each gifted in different fields of magic and each summoned by a mysterious benefactor via tarot card, are performing together in Las Vegas as a single act, "The Four Horsemen". As with any magic show, a member of the audience is brought onstage to add a dimension of realness to the "magic" being performed. In this case, the audience member is apparently transported to his bank vault in France, where he activates an air duct that vacuums up the Euros and showers it down on the crowd in Las Vegas a few seconds later. Morgan Freeman, playing an ex-magician who makes money by revealing the secrets behind well-known illusions, serves his usual role, effectively narrating and explaining the mechanics behind each trick. And as Morgan Freeman's character makes clear, the bank heist is actually achieved not through magic, but through an elaborate, almost logic-defying plan that seems just as unbelievable as magic itself.

The movie is full of these flashy, superficial illusions involving hypnosis, holograms, doubles, giant mirrors, flash paper, and more, but that's what makes this movie so fun. The onscreen magic tricks are a source of endless entertainment; that is how the movie weaves its own magic. What is lacking, however, is the development of the actual storyline. The identity of the mysterious benefactor is something that's at the back of your mind through the entire film because it's clear that without his careful planning, the Four Horsemen could not exist; however, who he is, his motive, and ultimately, the entire point of the movie, is thrown at you towards the end, and before any time is given to process what exactly is going on, the credits start rolling. And really, by the time the benefactor's identity is hurriedly revealed,  it feels as if it doesn't really matter anymore because the point of the movie isn't to pinpoint the perpetrator of all this, but to just sit back and enjoy the magic show.