Let Me In: the American Remake of Let the Right One In

Typically, when you watch a foreign film and like it, then hear that America is going to give it a try, the automatic response is "awe, damn it!"  Why?  Because oft times, this is the brutal truth.  Things are changed, often scenes or characters which you thought were important are suddenly absent or grossly different in the Americanized film.  The ending is usually different, and to make matters worse, "it's just not the same."

So says most critical film snobs who adamantly profess their cinematic knowledge on the rest of us damn heathens.

I will admit that I didn't re-watch the original prior to watching this American adaptation, which is usually a thing I like to do so that I can better compare.  However, in this instance, it wasn't as necessary as I thought it would be.  Luckily, my memory's still very strong (knock on wood) and I was able to recall much of what I had seen before.

The cinematography of the original was an integral part of shaping the story, where the mother of the main character, a little boy named Oskar, is never clearly seen and is always out of focus, as though she is out of the child's focus and separate from what is going on in his world.  A detail that seems subtle, but for artistic reasons and deep meaning, a very important detail nonetheless, and one that was kept the same in Let Me In.

There were other scenes that were very similar in how they were shot, what dialog was spoken, how the characters acted towards each other, and that was all very surprising, since I hadn't expected much from the new film.  Generally, the important parts that are necessary to further character development and plot are all still in the new adaptation.

Another plus was that its pacing was much quicker than Let the Right One In, which is interesting considering that both films are nearly the same length, Let Me In being a grand total of one minute longer.  But I won't lie: I don't care if you thought that the Swedish film was so fantastic and that you won't see the American adaptation because America ruins everything, Let Me In wasn't bad and it kept me more interested throughout.

The Swedish film is by no means a "bad" movie, in fact it's quite well written and expertly filmed; it does its job fine.  But I'll be damned if that movie didn't move slower than a snail with narcolepsy.  I was bored through most of it, simply because it reminded me of the pacing in Meet Joe Black with Brad Pitt, where it seemed as though the director would leave the camera running and the actors staring at each other so he could go offload a few pounds in the John.  My point being that if you hold a scene long enough for me to begin to shuffle my feet absentmindedly, then my attention is not rapt and you're losing your audience.  Like I said, Let the Right One In is a good film, but fucking slow.

The only true qualms that I have with the film are two relatively big moments in the story, and I'd rather not ruin either movie for anyone who hasn't seen them.  But I will say this: one scene has to do with fire, and in the original, it was kept rather contained, in the American version, it was pretty ridiculous--but that's America--we love settin' shit on fire!  The other scene--the girl in the original has a very personal thing about her revealed, as well as implied, and in the new film, it is only implied.  Now, I don't know if it's just because I saw the original that I "got it" and didn't mind that it was slightly different, but I would like to know if anyone sees the remake without having seen the original and "gets it" too, or if they're left feeling unsure about it.  Here's hoping I'm not ruining anything for anyone, but I'm pretty sure I'm being vague enough.

Anyhow, point in short: the remake, having been made in America, wasn't as much of a raped atrocity as I thought it might be.  So, kudos to writer and director Matt Reeves (director of Cloverfield) for doing it justice and doing quite a good job all around.

And as a final note: those who remember the first film might find it nice to know that whoever the location guy was for the remake did an amazing job at finding locations that were very similar to the Swedish film.  They get a cookie.

Red: Damn PG-13, You's Gettin' Ballsy!

Today I ventured to the theater and saw the movie Red, a loose adaptation of a short 3-part comic book of the same name, under the DC label.

While the film is rated PG-13, I was treated to a healthy dose of people getting blown the fuck up (there really isn't a better way to say it, that's exactly what you get, and it's ridiculous in the best way), numerous explosions, hefty hand-to-hand fights (the smackdown between Bruce Willis and my super-pretend boyfriend Karl Urban is pretty great), and most interestingly: it has consistent, supportive and adamantly humorous dialog that glorifies and practically advertises how awesome and badass it is to be employed by the government to murder and annihilate at the drop of a hat.

In fact, beyond having Willis's character be called the "good guy" twice by a bad guy who's played by a rather well-aged Richard Dreyfus (it's nice to see him still acting!) and one mention of a dude that Willis's character killed who was a really bad guy, there is no message in this film that says it's not OK to want to grow up and become a black ops agent for the CIA and kill a mass amount of foo's while traveling all over the world to overthrow terrorist actions and domestic and foreign government stabilities.

The movie was pretty entertaining over all and the characters were appealing enough that you could sympathize with them, making it totally all right whenever they killed someone.  Granted, it was "all in self-defense," sure.  But at the same time to further support the idea that killing for your work is fun and fulfilling as a career, there are a few scenes where the characters reminisce about how much they miss doing what they do best and they do it with humor and with fondness.  On one end, the 'adult' in me says that kids are allowed to see this movie, and it might not necessarily be a good idea.  But on the other end, the 'me' in me, says, "Hahaha; they miss putting bullets in people and they talk about it like they miss going on vacation.  Oh, the absurdity!"

As for the actors in the movie, John Malkovich has a supporting role that he does quite well and he made me laugh at all the right times (some of his lines are just so well-timed the joke almost eludes you).  Morgan Freeman is...well, he's the cozy grandpa you wish you had if you don't/didn't already have one, and so he's always a joy to watch.  Helen Mirren is distinguished and charming as an older woman who knows her firearms.  Neat thing about her that I noticed was that she must have had quite a lot of training with the weapons she used (or she was a damn natural)--she was extremely steady and rarely blinked--kudos to her for being tough!  And of course, Karl Urban is delicious and grumpy-faced as always (a trademark that will always suit him I think), and to add to my personal amusement, a comment is made between Willis and Ernest Borgnine about Urban's physical description as the guy with "the cute haircut."

Excuse me for a moment while I express my sheer youthful girlish behavior: EEEEEEEEE!!!!!! :D

Point in short, this film was fun, steady-paced, full of action, full of good humor, and inspires you to want to join the CIA just so you too can fulfill that suddenly-invented lifelong dream of wanting to shoot a .50cal machine gun into a line of GMC trucks while wearing your evening best.  Fuck yeah, FTW!

Cinema of Yesterday: Why is THAT Movie a Classic?

There are millions of films in existence today. What makes this one or that one a classic? Something that is referenced in younger film, something that is timeless, or simply won't die no matter how many times you've beaten the dead horse of its popularity into the ground.

Today I'm going to look at a handful of famous oldies, and explain as best I can, why they are forever embedded in history as being worth two hours of your life you won't ever get back. Frankly, I have a theory that what largely sets the average film viewer of today against any interest in old films is that old movies are in black and white, which on the surface appears overtly boring and very obviously 2-D, and that the majority of people who understand them are from older generations, snooty film critics, and new wave Indie kids who know that loving the classics is "cool."

We begin with Casablanca (1942), or more aptly put: Trench Coat Man During the War: A Love Story


About a nightclub owner who is torn between his love for an old flame and helping said old flame and her hubby escape the Nazis to further progress their refugee work in the U.S.  What makes this boring to audiences today: There are no ludicrous explosions, the absence of sexual excitement is drowned out by the use of black and white, and the fact that the film was made in 1942 is like putting a red flag all over the cover at the video store to today's average viewer: No one cares.


BUT--what makes this film recognizable?  What makes it worth your time?  What makes it worth my time?  The phrase "you had to be there" comes to mind, pointing out that, like many horror films of the past that are now considered cheesy as all get out, made an impression when they were first released.  Casablanca fits the bill entirely.  For the older generations, who remember the war times, this film rings in about the trials and fears that surround war and all its ugly goodies.  It was a relevant film at its time.  The actors were big, and it was Bogart's first romantic lead role--which got all the ladies of the 40's squirming in their sensible undergarments.  But what, you ask, is the freakin' appeal to younger audiences?  Frankly, there isn't much.  However, most people are aware the film exists, simply for that famous end scene in the airport, where Bogart has that line, "Here's lookin' at you kid."  If the younger generations of today are able to give it a chance, it's assumed that after watching the film, they'd understand why it was cool for its time, and appreciate why it is considered a classic today.

Remaining in the bleak spotlight of black and white cinema, we have It's a Wonderful Life (1946), i.e.: One Bad Day Can Make a Man Want to Kill Himself


As both titles above explain succinctly, a man who's whole life seems devoted to helping others takes a bad turn and things get harry, so he gets angry and drunk and decides that he'd be worth more dead than alive, due to an insurance policy that says pretty much just that.  But lo! and behold!  An angel comes to show him that his life is meaningful and just how important he is to the community.

Yeah, I thought it was boring too.  But that was because when I saw it, like most others of my generation, I was a kid, and unless it's the Three Stooges or Abbot & Costello (physical comedy), black and white just wasn't entertaining.  But, the 'rents always push It's a Wonderful Life as though they're trying to sell you on the idea that it's a family classic that is timeless and heartfelt.  I was a child, all I was thinking about was how soon I would get to open my presents.

Years down the line, if you can bring yourself to watch the film as an adult, you understand what it's doing, and the director, Frank Capra, knew how to make something that would appeal to most people.  The main character is a relatively normal man with a normal family, something generally most adults of the 40's could relate to, especially when the film deals with the issues of financial hardship.  This being set in the 40's, adults at the time knew exactly how that felt, especially during the holiday season.  Honestly though, however it is billed as a family classic, personally, I've always largely seen it as something directly made for adults, and the appreciation a child can get from it is just plain...not there.

But if there is one thing that both children and their parents can agree that is a timeless fact about the movie, it's how annoying that damn little girl with the horrible high-pitch voice is who gratingly says, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings."  A fact alone that brings families together in agreement, and oft times gives everyone a good eye-roll at how corny the line is delivered.

Moving onto the biggest, baddest cinematic beast in history (according to several critically acclaimed critics [is it an oxymoron to critique a critic?], seriously recognized film websites, and of course, the American Film Institute [AFI]), we have Orson Welles'  Citizen Kane (1941), i.e.: Party Like a Rock, Party Like a Rock Star, Part Like a Rock, Party Like a ...Newspaper Mogul?


So Charles Foster Kane, played by Orson Welles and based off of his own life and William Randolph Hearst (who was in fact a real life newspaper mogul (or, as Wikipedia keeps saying, a "magnate"), is this super rich guy who has his childhood ripped away in turn for a life of soulless luxury in which he takes advantage until he gains control of a newspaper company.

The film details his whirlwind life, mostly through flashbacks (which, unlike Phantasm 4, this is an appropriately used filming tactic for the progression of the story) and accounts his loves, his work, his scandals, the whole kit n' caboodle until finally, when all is said and done, his death (seen at the beginning of the film where he says the famous line "Rosebud...") is put to a close with a connection to his past.

The reason I gave the alternate title of the film is that, much like watching Val Kilmer play Jim Morrison in The Doors or Joaquin Phoenix play Johnny Cash in Walk the Line, Citizen Kane pretty much does the same thing for the character Charles Foster Kane, except the character himself is not a real person, only based off of one, and he's not a rock star, he's a newspaper tycoon.  But the setup is generally the same; he spends a hell of a lot of money, has trouble in relationships, has scandalous accusations against him, I mean hell, he lives in Xanadu, what is referred to in the film as "the world's largest private estate," which just begs to be labeled with a giant sign slapped over it that reads "EXCESSIVE" which is what the rock star life is all about.

Now here's the kicker: while this film is renowned for its cinematography, writing, acting, etc, it will bypass most of today's younger viewers without a second glance.  Perchance, it is fair to assume that the title of the film has been heard by many, it's virtually inescapable from being mentioned in any documentary or DVD commentary or critic's review on successful films in history.  But, beyond that, this film is in black and white, it's about a newspaper mogul, not a rock star, so his tastes for spending money aren't embellished with drugs and hookers (that we see, anyways), it's LONG, and primarily quiet on the 'action' side of things.

Point in short, it'd be considered boring, because obviously, who cares about the life of some dude who runs a newspaper as opposed to an influential musician who drowned themselves in debauchery and depression?  Much like the last two films I wrote about, this one no less deserves to have the label "You had to be there," because today, William Randolph Hearst is not a name well known to the modern audience, it was the 40's, so obviously, times are different, and what was relevant then is not relevant now.

And to top it all off, the film's lack of ta-tas is disappointing.

The Underground Comedy Movie (An Honest Review)

It's been a late night.

In fact, it's been such a late night, that here it is nearly nine-thirty in the A.M. and I haven't gone to bed yet.  I blame a good friend of mine, who happens to be snoozing on my bed in a comfortable booze-filled slumber. Awe, ain't that sweet?   Anyhow, she and I were gabbing and drinking late into the night (that's 1.75 liters, btw), always a fun thing to do, and somehow got onto a conversation where she was talking about this guy she'd gotten to know online.  This guy was none other than Vince Offer.

Never heard of him?  Sound vaguely familiar?  Don't give a damn?

All fair responses, and perhaps most sound.  Vince Offer, notable for his key star roles as the "Slap Chop" and "ShamWow" guy, made a movie a little over a decade ago.  I know, what?  It was called, "The Underground Comedy Movie."

The film cites crass comedic (awesome alliteration!) stabs at the worst of the worst: necrophilia, masturbation, defecation, attractive girls doing very unattractive things, boob watch...the list could go on.  But having been labeled by several sources as being "one of the worst films ever made" is oddly in itself a sort of award for notoriety.  The film was direct to video, sold somewhere around 100,000 copies from sales by infomercials, and is generally considered distasteful by reputable critics of today--to put it politely.

Personally, I kinda liked it.  It got disgusting at times, but that was part of the point.  It was horribly low budget at times, but that also appeared to be part of the point.  It tried too hard in all the wrong places, which...I'm not sure was the point, but it definitely made me give a physical expression of response, however mild that was.  What I saw was what my friend explained to me about the film before I watched it: "It's watching a young man's ideas and dreams come to light, not work out, but make it into the light nonetheless.  It's a horrible film.  I wish I would have bought a copy when I had the chance!  You need to watch it!"  Oh, tequila...

I see what she meant.  Apparently, Offer had hosted some public access variety show which the film is based on, and went from there.  It's crude, and at times just flat out boring or tacky.  But it got me to chuckle a few times because of how awkward and absurd it allowed itself to get.  For films to "let go" like that, takes guts, and usually you don't triumph, but coming out triumphant is not the point so much as making a notable stab in people's memories.  

Point in example: "Hey, it's that dude who sold those awesome rags and choppers.  Damn, he had a really horrible movie, did you see it?"  "No, man, didn't see it.  What made it horrible?"  "Oh man, no, dude, you just gotta see it, it's...seriously, dude, it's fuckin' horrible.  You gotta see it!"

If there's one thing I never forgot that my dad pointed out about watching film, it's that you pay attention to whether or not it affected you.  If it was so bad that you just had to talk about it (albeit fondly and over several mixed drinks, cleverly weaved into a thread of enticing conversation), it affected you.  If it had a scene that was unforgettable, or you wished it had been, and you shared your pain with others, it affected you.

And affecting is the key to infecting the feelers out there for interest.  The more it's spoken about, the more likely you are to go "whoa, the ShamWow guy had a real dead body in his movie!  That's messed up!"  Whether or not that is true, I'm not sure, however, fascinatingly, the general word holds strong that he used a real dead woman in his film during the "porno" scenes.   Yeah, if that doesn't make you curious, then this film will surely pass you by.

BUT, if you're like most of the bored, sleepless, hapless, curious, lolzy internet folk out there, like myself, then you can't pass up knocking this little number off your list, much in the same way that films like Troll 2 and Kazaam should be forever stricken from all existing memory banks, however somehow they manage to stick with you because, gosh darn it, "they're just so damn horrible!"

Screw it.  The bottom line best used to describe the film is its own tagline:  "A series of comedic short films guaranteed to offend."


...'nuff said.