Hancock

2008 //  USA // Peter Berg // July 8, 2008 // Theatrical Print

C - In the abstract, Will Smith's reluctant, negligent superman, John Hancock, is a comic hero with an admittedly cunning twist. And Smith, to his credit, uses his own boundless charisma to nicely affect the mysterious messiah's transition from sophomoric alcoholic to godling with a conscience. In the end, however, the Idea and the Star alone cannot elevate Hancock when the filmmakers have relatively pedestrian ambitions. The film's best moments are also its nastiest—such as when Smith flings a little bully a few thousand feet into the sky to put the fear of Krypton into him. Too often, however, Hancock lunges for cheap sentiment or weak laughs. Berg's camera captures the distinctive glaze of modern Los Angeles, but also insists on a style that consists primarily of constant, distracting jiggling. I wasn't bothered by the out-of-left-field revelation in Hancock's third act, but its poorly conveyed implications and the confused, tension-free climax ensured that the "surprise" was wasted. The early glee at watching Hancock's disastrous attempts at heroism (and Smith's "Fuck Y'all" attitude) just barely make up for the generally limp storytelling, or the discomfiting subtext in a black man—even a black superman—who needs to go to prison to learn a lesson.

Bigger, Stronger, Faster*

2008 // USA // Chris Bell // July 3, 2008 // Theatrical Print

B - Perhaps I wouldn't be so impressed with Chris Bell's documentary about steroid use in America if I hadn't been mistaken about what I was getting into. I expected something akin to a television magazine exposé ("Americans use steroids! Oh noes!"), albeit served up in a wry, punchy package. Instead, Bigger, Stronger, Faster* is a genuinely stunning feature documentary debut. Bell doesn't demonstrate a particularly cinematic sensibility, but he boasts an amazing ability to find the right tone and deftly juggle a deceptively complex controversy. Admittedly, his style owes something to the Moore-Spurlock school of gee-whiz credulity. He asks the occasional sharp question, but mostly nods along while athletes, doctors, advocates, and family members offer their expertise and pour their hearts out. However, his narration absolutely nails a young American male's strange blend of confusion and cynicism about steroids. Bell takes an empathic and deeply personal approach to the material, looking at it from every angle, never satisfied with conventional wisdom or easy answers. For this reason, BSF* is profoundly satisfying. If Bell can maintain his balance of pithy insight and authentic middle class hope, he might someday unseat Michael Moore as America's marquee Big Issues documentarian.

Surfwise

2007 // USA // Doug Pray // June 30, 2008 // Theatrical Print

B - The story of the nomadic, surfing Pascowitz clan—"Doc" Dorian, Juliette, and their nine children traversing the continent in a cramped RV—is essentially the tale of the Pascowitz patriarch's fierce philosophy of Right Living, and how he imposes his worldview on the family with an tanned fist. It's fortunate, then, that Doug Pray's new documentary about the Pascowitzes, Surfwise, employs an evenhanded approach. The film features both wondering admiration for Doc's uncompromising moral vision and a keen skepticism for its effects on his own family. Pray gleans much of latter from interviews with the adult children, who are at once nostalgic, bemused, and deeply pained about their years in the camper. Using rapid, sure-footed editing, the filmmakers demonstrate good instincts for the material, and a sharp awareness for the late twentieth-century surfing vibe. On occasion, Pray breaks with this style to daring effect, such as when he holds his gaze on son David singing the bitter metal ballad he composed for his father; the scene evolves from touching to embarrassing and back to touching. Although it toys with contrived sentimentalism in its final scenes, Surfwise sketches a compelling portrait of an abnormal-yet-normal American family with poise and passion.

Shine a Light

2008 // USA //  Martin Scorsese // April 12, 2008 // IMAX Theatrical Print

B - Martin Scorsese's Shine a Light, depicting a two-night Rolling Stones performance at the Beacon Theater, aims for something a little higher than mutual artistic backslapping, just not much higher. This is Stones worship at its purest, but that purity is fairly stunning. The undisciplined tendency that has at times infected Scorsese's more recent dramatic work is nowhere to be found in this endeavor. If nothing else, Shine a Light is a work of cinematic virtuosity. Shot with plethora of cameras placed jaw-droppingly close to the action, it boasts an intimacy that vividly captures the Stones' everlasting fire and their sheer joy at performing. It's dizzying to contemplate the challenge that this film must have been to edit. Scorsese doesn't strive for the genuine exploration of Gimme Shelter, but he does utilize the medium to discover something akin to a live concert experience, yet also something different and distinctly cinematic. Shine a Light has an undeniable and sustaining energy, but there's not much to it other than great music from artists you'll never be this close to again. If that's enough for you—and it should be—you'll regret missing an opportunity to catch it in IMAX.

The Counterfeiters

2007 // Austria - Germany // Stefan Ruzowitzky // April 10, 2008 // Theatrical Print

C - The Counterfeiters presents the morally knotted tale of Operation Bernhard, the Nazis' effort to reproduce the British pound using Jewish counterfeiters. The film centers on the experience of master counterfeiter Salomon Sorowitsch, portrayed with grim precision by Austrian actor Karl Markovics. Like most capable dramas about World War II, the film treads a satisfactory balance between the shorthand characterization necessary for a feature length production and pockets of richer exploration. Director Stefan Ruzowitzky never works any real cinematic magic, but he does the minimum the material deserves by telling a fascinating story quite well. The counterfeiters' surreal existence as valuable but despised craftsmen is the story's most appealing angle, but it remains somewhat underdeveloped in favor of stock dramatic tension and twists. Ruzowitzky finds some intriguing approaches here and there, as when he highlights the fractures between subgroups within the Jewish prisoner population (habitual criminals, Communists, etc.) Still, there's something more than a little disappointing about a film where the concept is more electric than the execution. In the end, The Counterfeiters is a notable addition to the swelling body of Holocaust dramas, if only for its unusual subject matter and fine performances.