With the announcement that several film production companies are phasing out a number of their product lines in the next few years, and the ever increasing obsession the world seems to have with the next big wave of technology, it would appear that the old wave of studio filmmaking is slowly falling into obscurity. As studios continue releasing their movies using the latest advances in digital projection and 3-D, people sometimes forget that movies weren’t always expected to have color and sound, and were often played in enormous, single-screen halls with nothing but the accompaniment of an orchestra, or, at the very least, a single piano. It’s no surprise that with this ignorance of the past, two filmmakers saw it fit to release two seemingly different, but thematically similar films which both not only highlight filmmaking methods of the past, but also give us a look at how the magic of movies as we know it has never really changed. These two movies are silent film tribute The Artist, and the magnificently magical Hugo.

As he struggles to find the secret of a mechanical man he helped rebuild with his father, all the while attempting to escape the clutches of the seemingly evil security guard at the train station he lives above, the titular character of Martin Scorsese’s Hugo may appear to be leading the life of any normal family film hero, filled with magic and wonder. However, after the big secret of the mechanical man is revealed, the movie becomes something far bigger and stranger than your average children’s fantasy movie. As it turns out, Hugo is a big-budgeted, special effects filled kid’s movie…about film restoration. Now, that’s not to downgrade what a fun, exciting, and sweet movie Hugo is, but it’s strange to see this kind of attempt at creating a broadly appealing movie with a story that is obviously very personal to its director…you just don’t really see that kind of studio support very often, especially when it comes to a subject so few seem to care about.

While this may be a mild spoiler, the main focus of Hugo turns out to be early 20^th century science fiction & fantasy film director Georges Melies, and his hand in creating some of the earliest and most influential films ever made. Seeing the fantastic and tragic history of Melies’ Star-Film Company, including recreations of their inventive sets and special effects is incredibly interesting, especially for anyone interested in this period of film. However, an epic exposition session that fills the audience in on all of this back story ends up making the second half of the movie feel more like a college course on film history, as opposed to anything resembling the fun and fantasy of the film’s first half. Hugo never gets bogged down enough in its necessary over-explanation of its coincidences and character connections to make it unlikeable or take away from its fantastical nature, as these glimpses into early filmmaking only support Melies’ claims of being a maker of dreams, but the whole thing seems so specifically geared towards the greatest of dreamers, it’ll make even the most upbeat and optimistic of audience members do a double take at its overly-sentimental nature.

However, if Scorsese went ahead and made his ode to the fantastical films of old, Michael Hazanavicius & Co. went one step past that, and straight up made a fantastical film of their own. Having the distinction of being a true throwback to the silent films of the late 1920s and early 1930s with its stark black and white picture and almost completely silent soundtrack (aside from a full orchestral score, naturally), The Artist goes beyond being just a tribute, and instead tells a clever and timeless story that never gets too cynical or gimmicky to distract from its style or message. Following the concurrent rise of up-and-comer Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) and descent of stubborn silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), during the emergence of talkies, The Artist could’ve easily turned into something just as meaningless as any of the silent films it references and parodies. Instead, it defies this fate by exploring a somewhat darker side to the film industry, allowing its hero to fall victim to his own pride as he refuses to change in the face of progress, and watches him descend into alcoholism and depression as the wave of the new world washes over him. Although The Artist keeps you guessing whether or not it’ll be a comedy or a drama up until the last few scenes of the movie, this doesn’t keep its star’s earnest portrayals, along with some spot-on production and costume design, from making the movie effortlessly capture the look and feel that is perfect for this kind of homage.

Unfortunately, while The Artist manages to be an enjoyable temporary escape from reality, it never seems to itself escape the kind of light and breezy nature that caused its inspirations to be so easily forgotten. While George’s arc does carry a certain amount of weight, even coming close to the kind of dramatic twists and conclusions that are indicative of what has become more natural of modern storytelling, there’s very little that keeps The Artist from feeling just as cute and disposable as its predecessors. There’s really nothing wrong with this, considering the tone Hazanavicius achieves, but while everyone may like an enjoyable, amusing and ultimately uplifting movie, it’s not the kind of thing that really sticks with you for too long after you’ve left the theater.

While Hazanavicius and Scorsese really do nail the eras and artists they strive to portray, it seems that they’ve also inadvertently made arguments for why their idols and legends eventually faded into obscurity, and why we needed to be reminded of them to begin with. Hugo surrounds its old-school trickery with state of the art 3-D and computer generated cityscapes, showing its audience exactly what they’ve come to expect from a movie of this scope and pedigree, while The Artist reminds us why we tend to like our movies to strive for a little more dramatic heft and original technique with its cute, little story about the futility of attempting to outrun progress. These are by no means bad movies; in fact, they’re both excellent in their own ways. But in reminding us of how easily some things are forgotten and left to the past, neither really made much of an argument for their own importance, leaving them to feel like nothing more than expertly made and incredibly detailed history lessons.

Both Movies:

8 out of 10.

Cameron Crowe seems to thrive on creating movies that border on the schmaltzy, but tend to strain the edge without ever going over, always staying on the right side of romantic, without ever getting too “romantic comedy”. Sure, there were a few missteps, most notably Elizabethtown, which found its underdeveloped and averagely acted leads falling for each other in the midst of a series of obstacles that only lead to their eventual reunion to be all the more unbelievable and silly. However, never before has Crowe gotten so disgustingly sappy as he has now with his latest movie, We Bought A Zoo.

Based on a true story, this aptly named movie tells its whole story in its title. After his wife’s death, Benjamin Mee (Matt Damon), along with his caricature of a bratty teenage son and angelic young daughter, purchase and attempt to renovate a failing zoo, full of dozens of exotic and dangerous animals. Along with the compound, the family also inherits a stable of one-dimensional misanthropes who help maintain the animals, including an overworked animal expert (Scarlett Johannsen), her socially retarded niece (Elle Fanning), an arrogant, alcoholic habitat designer (Angus MacFayden), and a slew of others. The problem isn’t that these characters aren’t relatable or interesting, but that they’re never really given a chance to grow or change, appearing early on in the film as exactly the same people who they continue to be for the whole movie. The only sense of growth comes from Benjamin’s half-hearted acceptance of his wife’s death at the end of the movie, and a begrudging truce called between him and his moody son, with neither arc providing enough to create any kind of satisfaction with the story or movie as a whole. Sure, they bought a zoo, and, through a series of wacky misadventures (including the always hilarious “trip to Home Depot” scenario several times; that’ll slay ‘em), they rebuilt a zoo, but, in the end, it all feels predictable and unearned, with the only actual hurdle being Thomas Haden Church’s negative attitude.

Aside from the lack of an interesting story or characters, one of the biggest letdowns and most divisive aspects here has got to be Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi’s original score for the movie, with the term “original” being used very loosely. While most of the score comes off as repetitive, and sounds an awful lot like it  came right off of Jónsi’s 2011 album “Go”, the biggest problem is it’s fantastical whistling and stereo, bell chiming makes every scene come off as wondrous and lively, when, more often than not, they’re, well…not. In what has to be one of the most ill-fitting, mismatching of score and film in the last few years, Crowe fills his movie with these flittery, light-hearted soundscapes, despite whether the characters are engaged in a motivational speech or simply feeding some goats, making everything feel like it’s supposed to be far more magical, even though it never is. What’s most heartbreaking, though, is when the music and movie actually do work together to eventually make the audience feel something, only for the feeling to last for just a few minutes before the credits start to roll.

We Bought A Zoo is not a good movie, but it’s even more disappointing considering that it comes from long-dormant filmmaker Crowe. Some people will be satisfied with the upbeat characters and story, but coming from someone we know can do romance (Jerry Maguire) and self-discovery (Almost Famous) so well, one can’t help but watch We Bought A Zoo and feel like it could be so much better. Hopefully, after taking a six year long break between movies, Crowe will come back a little faster after this disappointment with something a little more worthy of his talents. And maybe also something with a title that doesn’t sound so awkward when the characters in the movie say it in the movie (like they do here…three times).

4 out of 10.

Full disclosure: I, jat59072, am a huge fan of Tintin, and have been since I was seven years old. I have read all of the books, named my dog after Tintin’s terrier, Snowy, and have a French poster for The Blue Lotus hanging in my bedroom. Ever since I first laid my eyes on the incredibly detailed and entertaining adventures of the boy reporter and his canine companion, I’ve been hooked, and that’s why the news of Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson coming together to bring one of artist/author Hergé’s adventures to life (albeit, in motion capture form) brought mixed feelings. However, having now seen what, given the nature of the two filmmakers, could’ve potentially been a colossal explosion of good intentions, misguided ambition and overblown filmmaking, I can say with certainty that The Adventures of Tintin far surpasses any negative assumptions I may have had, and ended up being something pretty spectacular.

Combining several of Tintin’s adventures, The Secret of the Unicorn finds the titular hero on a search to discover the truth behind a trio of model ships which all potentially hold the location of secret pirate treasure. Along the way, Tintin escapes death, travels the globe, and meets a series of interesting and unique characters, including the alcohol and violence-prone Captain Haddock and the villainous Ivonovich Sakharine. Generally, motion capture comes off as clumsy, awkward, and often fails to translate anything from the human performance behind the CGI but the very basic motions and gestures. However, with the Adventures of Tintin, a practical balance between human and caricature, as well as incredible realism in the movements of the characters and their surroundings, make every frame a detailed work of art, supported by the actor’s often hilarious and individually impressive performances.

While the technological aspects of Tintin may be impressive, unfortunately, the story and pacing suffer enough to momentarily distract from the visuals. While the mystery behind the events of the movie is interesting enough, the progression of the story is too often stopped by characters putting the puzzle pieces together for the audience, explaining away what each clue means, and how it fits in with every other clue they’ve discovered up until that point. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so jarring if these epiphanies were worked into the dialogue or narrative a little smoother, as opposed to the characters simply monologueing to themselves every few minutes, but for all of the exciting action and fascinating adventure, it’s this unfortunate lack of confidence in its audience which brings Tintin one of its few flaws.

Due to Spielberg’s involvement as director, as well as its globetrotting action/adventure format, The Adventures of Tintin has been garnering comparisons to Spielberg’s classic Raiders of the Lost Ark. While there are some superficial similarities, Tintin isn’t nearly as strong of a personality as Indiana Jones, and the story here has far less action, with a greater focus on mystery, then any of his adventures. Aside from an incredible chase sequence at the mid-point of the movie, Tintin isn’t a showcase for spectacular action, instead opting for more of the adventurous spirit of the comics. And there’s nothing wrong with that. For fans of the comics and newcomers alike, The Adventures of Tintin won’t be a disappointment, with its endearing characters, involving story and incredible visuals. Unfortunately, for all its strong points, there’s something that keeps Tintin from being completely successful, although there’s no denying that despite its shortcoming, it is at least a masterfully created piece of pure entertainment.

8 out of 10.

One of the greatest feelings in the world has got to be discovering in adulthood that something you loved in your youth is actually, legitimately good. It’s so easy for someone to be blinded by nostalgia, pleasant memories surrounding an old song or an amusement park ride, that to re-experience it after gaining a greater perspective of the world, and still finding it to be exactly how they remembered it, well…it’s a good feeling. Having grown up within the last fifty years, there’s a number of things that I, along with most people born during this time period, was exposed to as a child: Slinkees, the Beatles, and, of course, Jim Henson and his Muppets.

It’s hard to pinpoint, but there’s something about the Muppets that makes them more than just pieces of felt and cotton, but almost living creatures, all with their own distinct personalities and pulses. Of course, these characters have had enough time over the last forty years to develop, and become the favorite go-to gag pulling, vaudevillian revivalists to generations of adults and their children alike. From Fozzie’s earnestly terrible jokes, to Rowlf’s lightly soulful piano playing, anyone who’s seen a Muppet related production has their favorite, and most of the dozens of characters have become iconic in their own right. But the one thing that keeps the whole operation running, and the main reason that The Muppet Movie is one of my favorites, has got to be Kermit the Frog.

Sure, there are a ton of things to love about the original Muppet Movie: the clever script, the still impressive puppetry, and Paul Williams incredible soundtrack, topped off with the now classic “Rainbow Connection”. But without Kermit, who stands as the heart of the Muppet clan and the joining force that brings them all together, the words are just words. Aside from the sheer ridiculousness of seeing a frog play the banjo, Kermit brings an innocence and goodness to the song, as well as to the trek he makes from his home in the swamp all the way to Hollywood, with his only reason being that he just wants to make people happy. The sole motivation behind the entire story comes simply from one frog’s wish to bring a smile to the faces of as many people as he possibly can. And while Fozzie, Scooter, Gonzo, Miss Piggy and all the others definitely help him get there, it’s the spirit of the Kermit character that keeps them all from becoming some mutated versions of themselves, warped by the world into corporate salesman, or into another lost piece of pop-culture memorabilia, only to be seen in Robot Chicken skits and t-shirts at swap meets.

This iconic goodness that possesses Kermit, as well as the idea of the Muppets as a whole, undoubtedly comes from Jim Henson. While he found help from like-minded writers and puppeteers, as well as support from British and public television, Henson somehow took a dream of entertaining whoever was interested, and achieved it with nothing but cloth, personality and showmanship. To think that someone could take nothing, and turn it into a legacy that continues to this day, it seems almost unbelievable in a world where everything seems to be a remake, reboot or adaptation. With Henson’s death in 1990, however, it seems that fans have become reluctant to accept the slow output of newer Muppet-related projects that have been made without their creator’s input, an obstacle surely trying to be overcome with the latest attempt at reviving the franchise’s popularity in The Muppets.

Set in a universe not unlike our own, where The Muppet Show’s cultural impact has long been forgotten by most, The Muppets follows a die-hard fan and Muppet himself, Walter, as he follows his brother, Gary (co-writer Jason Segal), and his girlfriend, Mary (Amy Adams), on their anniversary vacation to Los Angeles, where the three of them inadvertently set off on a quest to reunite Kermit and his friends for one last show. It’s a movie steeped in nostalgia, which might seem desperate in any other movie attempting to re-popularize a dying property, but here seems almost necessary. While those with a fondness for the characters may find themselves buying tickets to see their latest incarnation, Segal and co-writer Nicholas Stoller remind them what it was about Kermit and his friends that they loved all those years ago. Seeing these characters coming back together, all because of a little, orange Muppet who seems to associate and embody all of this warm fuzziness because of his life-long fandom, the story not only points out this association, but uses it as a motivation for both its characters and audience to remember why they’re making/watching the movie in the first place.

Aside from the blatant use of the The Muppet Show, plus the use of such staples as “The Rainbow Connection”, and a knowing retelling of the first movie, The Muppets comes with its own set of new tricks that keep the movie from feeling too bogged down in the past. While the script keeps the trademark fourth-wall breaking humor unexpected and hilarious, it’s Bret MacKenzie’s songs that keep the movie moving along, and make for some of its more memorable sequences. This is especially apparent with the anthem, “Life’s A Happy Song”, which puts the spirit of the movie on full display, while also planting the themes of connection and belonging right at the very beginning of the story.

However, while there is much to like about The Muppets, it does hit a few of the same snares that plague many modern family films. While the dozen or so celebrity cameos will at least elicit a reaction from the audience, many of them have so little to do/aren’t very recognizable that their inclusion almost seems pointless, leaving the audience wishing that they either had more to do, or that they hadn’t shown up at all. Also leaning on the more irritating side of the spectrum, there are several moments throughout the film, most notably during a montage where the characters clean up the theater in sing-along style, where opportunities for original songs are passed over with the use of ill-fitting pop songs (in this instance, “We Built This City” by Starship).

Recently, several puppeteers and writers who have been involved with the Muppet brand for years have come out and denounced The Muppets, claiming that the script did not respect or represent the characters they had been keeping alive for so many years, but, having seen the finished product, they couldn’t be more wrong. Kermit, Piggy, and the rest are all just as honest, funny and recognizable as they ever were, and if there are any complaints to be made, they shouldn’t concern the filmmaker’s treatment of these characters. It’s obvious from the finished product that everyone involved here shares a great deal of respect and fondness for both the creations they are playing with, and the creator’s who are responsible for it. While The Muppets may not reach the level of the original show or movies, it comes very close, and does so with enough sincerity and respect to the original incarnations of these characters, that any flaws that are apparent are completely forgivable.

8 out of 10.

Exactly one year ago today, I experienced something.  It was something I’d never felt or gone through before.  And the feelings that this experience conjured in me are likely never to be recreated again.  It stands, and will stand, as a truly unique moment in my life.  Because you see, on the morning of December 18, 2010, I saw Gulliver’s Travels.

Yes.  THE Gulliver’s Travels. I had the pleasure of attending a free Saturday morning screening of the movie with two of my most fantastic friends (and writers for this here website).  Having stayed up late the night before with both jat59072 and Dancy, we agreed that we would wake up in the morning to see if we really felt like making the drive to Cherry Hill, NJ to see this film in a 3-D presentation at 10:30 AM.  Upon waking up, we made the decision to go.  A little groggy we were, yet giddiness quickly began to set in.  For this was a truly momentous day.  Not only was seeing Gulliver’s Travels in our plans, but afterwards we had a 12-hour movie marathon scheduled with the entire TWJ staff.  Luckily for jat, Dancy, and I, we started off the morning with this movie I now write about.

The short drive over the bridge went on without event.  Until we arrived at the theater.  We were a bit early and doors were not open yet.  So we sat in the car, groggy and giddy, staring out at the cold, parking lot morning… just waiting.  And then it happened.  Slowly it had been building in our ears.  Classic rock music.  Blaring from a car stereo that seemed to be driving in concentric circles around us.  Closer and closer it came until we saw it.  A middle aged man in what I remember was probably a Ford Focus, accompanied in his passenger seat by a skeleton donning a christmas hat and other human garb.  We were in awe of this man.  To our chagrin, though, he parked a few cars away and our vision was impeded by an SUV or minivan of some sort.  (What kind of people go to 10:30AM Saturday screenings in Cherry Hill, NJ to see this movie.  Other than little kids and TWJ…)  Well, apparently this skeleton-befriending man is someone who would embark upon this experience with us.  And then the classic rock ceased and was swiftly replaced by what sounded like a most clever riff on “the 12 days of xmas” but instead, was “lol i hate my job”-related humor.  Our day was only getting better.  Finally the doors to the theater opened and the music stopped.  We sat waiting for the mysterious skeleton-loving man to pass us, and after we got our look, we retreated not for the front door of the theater, but to this man’s car to take pictures on our celular devices of the skeleton in the front seat.  He loved Preston & Steve.

And into the theater we go.  It’s filled with kids accompanied by their parents.  The usual dunce-level trivia kicks in and jat doesn’t win as much as he should have.  He should have won some basketball shit, but some old lady stole his prize.  His cries of sorrow were quickly drowned out though, as the emcee hosting the trivia session pandered to the crowd, asking if all in attendance were ready for Jack Black’s antics.  Did she even realize how ready we were?

The movie starts.  And it’s immediately clear I’m a little bit completely sick of Jack Black’s antics.  Especially in this movie.  But alas, the show goes on.  And it’s as kid-orientedly stupid and boring and bad as the next one.  But this was for some reason, a special kind of bad.  Not the kind of bad that’s funny, or even the kind that’s just plain bad.  It began to morph into an inexplicable… thing. And on and on it went.  Though it was quite a short movie, it went on and on and on.

And then something happened.  Things suddenly got to the point of no return and nexi of universi and wormholes sprouted into entire rainbows.  The world caved in on itself and reappeared once again before our very eyes, both inside out and tied to a bedpost.  I cannot explain.  I saw past the universe and tron and Dune and all else.  I sat rooted in my seat, mouth agape, eyes bleeding, ears imploding.  I cannot speak specifically of what scene I am referring to, as my friends Josh and Dave have yet to marvel at this movie as I have.  And ruining such an experience for others would be most unwise.

The movie ended and I carried on my day (and the rest of my life) with knowledge that there are things out there that go beyond everything.  Nothing will ever be the same.

My life would be incomplete without wands.

Volume 4 - WHEN SOMETIMES PEOPLE WATCH TV IN MOVIES OR A TV IS SHOWN FOR BARELY ANY REASON AT ALL

This happens more often than anyone on Earth will care to admit.  It happens like all the time practically.  Sometimes people watch TV in movies and it’s funny or it serves a purpose.  But sometimes people watch TV in movies, or a TV is shown to start a scene and it really serves no purpose.  Well, when that happens I don’t like it.  And there’s two reasons why I don’t like when it happens.  A.)  Because it’s usually some old movie that either the director likes (and is paying homage to in a stupid way) or it’s supposed to reference/comment on the theme.  And B.)  When it’s not Reason A, it’s usually some stupid thing that’s meant to be like hahahaha look at how strange this is!  I saw this on TV when I was a kid.  Or, I saw this on TV the other day and I just HAD to get it in my movie somehow.

I guess people can do whatever they want but I don’t like when this happens.  Thanks!