News for today's 2018

Ender's Game: Well played

6:00 PM Tukiyooo 0

<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><b><i>Ender's Game</i> </b></span></span></span></span></span></span><b>(2013) • <a href="http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/summit/endersgame/" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">View trailer</a></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><b> </b><br /><b>Four stars. Rating: PG-13, for violence and dramatic intensity</b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b>By <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/12885694730612878577" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">Derrick Bang</a> • </b></span>Originally published in <i><a href="http://www.davisenterprise.com/" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">The Davis Enterprise</a></i>, 11.1.13</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Celebrated sci-fi author Orson Scott Card was 26 when his first work, a novella titled “Ender’s Game,” was published in the August 1977 issue of <i>Analog</i>. In 1985, with much more ambitious plans for that tale’s young protagonist — and with the security of a rapidly blossoming literary career — Card expanded his debut effort into a novel that won both the Hugo and Nebula awards.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9g9X5vhu3pI7JFJlSqdfpLJitdw86oIUB6xgbXYAcLOsjzxjN2LMde4wPgcfeonEV-wkcy2Pc0RyPHWMSAymfryyYf_nUfl0nUHRf7SOOEKLYh89508YkfpGappOJAr6h9VMA-1o30Ho/s1600/Enders+Game+blog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9g9X5vhu3pI7JFJlSqdfpLJitdw86oIUB6xgbXYAcLOsjzxjN2LMde4wPgcfeonEV-wkcy2Pc0RyPHWMSAymfryyYf_nUfl0nUHRf7SOOEKLYh89508YkfpGappOJAr6h9VMA-1o30Ho/s400/Enders+Game+blog.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">While Petra (Hailee Steinfeld) watches warily, the thuggish Bonzo (Moises Arias) angrily<br />warns Ender (Asa Butterfield) to stay out of his way. But Ender isn't one to remain on<br />the sidelines, which Petra senses immediately; things are destined to get quite ugly<br />between these two boys.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, the so-called “Ender series” encompasses — are you sitting down? — a dozen novels, a dozen short stories and roughly four dozen comic books (some adapting existing novels, some with entirely new material).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Obviously, fans can’t get enough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More significantly, for our purposes, those same fans — and the general public — will thoroughly enjoy director/scripter Gavin Hood’s big-screen adaptation of the novel that started it all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The South African-born filmmaker is an impressively shrewd choice for this material, having burst onto the scene with 2005’s <i>Tsotsi</i>, which traces a week in the life of a young Johannesburg street thug who wrestles with his conscience after finding a baby in the back seat of a car he steals. The grim drama won that year’s Academy Award for Best Foreign Film, and Hood — a USC film school grad — went on to an eclectic career as a director, writer and actor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Ender’s Game</i> also focuses strongly on the warring conscience of a boy, while contemplating several big-ticket philosophical issues that include state-sanctioned child abuse, planetary resource depletion and the novel’s most controversial theme: the notion of meeting a bully’s brutality with a savage response designed to prevent ALL subsequent attacks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The setting is a futuristic Earth, decades after our planet just barely repelled an invasion by an insectoid alien race dubbed the “Formics.” Expecting that these swarming monstrosities have returned to their home world in order to mount an even larger assault fleet, Earth’s united military force has pinned its hopes on a multi-national “Battle School” designed to train our best and brightest military tacticians:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Carefully selected children.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Young minds are much more agile and adaptable; we know this in our own real world. It therefore stands to reason that young minds weaned on a diet of strategy-laced computer games might be nurtured into becoming the next Patton, Napoleon or Hannibal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Needless to say, this rather disturbing notion — and the possibility that modern nations might be acting on it — is a helluva lot more timely today, than it was back in 1977. Among his many other talents, Card deserves credit for scary prescience.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><a name="more"></a><br /><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We meet young Andrew “Ender” Wiggin (Asa Butterfield) during his early days at Battle School, where he has demonstrated a flair for besting older classmates in computer tablet battles. This does not make Ender popular with some of his more thuggish peers, although it does bring him to the attention of Col. Hyrum Graff (Harrison Ford) and Maj. Gwen Anderson (Viola Davis), always on the lookout for promising students.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, this focus makes Ender even more of a target, leading to a confrontation with one of the school bullies. Ender attempts to talk his way out of the beatdown; when that fails, he surprises everybody by lashing out viciously enough to hospitalize his older, taller tormentor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Naturally, that makes Ender even <i>more</i> interesting to Graff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the aftermath, recognizing what he has done, troubles Ender deeply. Allowed a brief visit home, believing he has been washed out of the program, Ender takes solace from his older sister, Valentine (Abigail Breslin), who knows full well what he’s going through, having once been a Battle School student herself. (Valentine’s saga is covered elsewhere in Card’s canon.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In great contrast, Ender’s sociopathic older brother Peter (Jimmy Pinchak) delights in this apparent failure; indeed, Peter comes close to killing Ender ... which reveals precisely how the younger boy has learned to deal with bullies. Peter, as well, once was a Battle School student; he was expelled because of his uncontrolled violent rages.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ender’s visible, guilt-ridden remorse has been the final test; it demonstrates the boy’s ability to empathize with an opponent, thus better understanding him. Graff swoops him back into the program, where Ender joins other children in a spaceflight to a huge orbiting military station designed primarily around its huge, zero-gravity “battle room.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The children are divided into squadrons, with opposing teams meeting in the obstacle-laden battle room for a futuristic blend of paintball and quidditch. The hand-held “weapons” are paralyzers that temporarily freeze an opponent’s limb or torso; points are given for various anatomical hits, but a team wins immediately if able to maneuver one player through the enemy’s “goal.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ender quickly excels at this game, displaying a facility for unorthodox strategies that cleverly — but ruthlessly — sacrifice other squad members in order to achieve that ultimate victory. This earns him the growing respect of new friends Bean (Aramis Knight) and Alai (Suraj Partha), while isolating him further from jealous tyrants such as Bonzo (Moises Arias), leader of the Salamander squad.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ender’s effort to stand up to the cruel Bonzo has an upside: the growing respect of Petra (Hailee Steinfeld), also a member of the Salamanders.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The battle room games continue, while — behind the scenes, unknown to the students — Graff nervously eyes a deep-space monitor that counts down the anticipated return of the Formic invaders.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Butterfield is perfect in the title role, his sallow complexion, sunken eyes and haunted gaze every inch the angst-ridden lad that Card created on the page. The young actor made a startlingly mature debut in 2008’s <i><a href="http://derrickbang.blogspot.com/2008/11/boy-in-striped-pajamas-grim-bedtime.html">The Boy in the Striped Pajamas</a></i>, and more recently touched our hearts as the title character in 2011’s <i><a href="http://derrickbang.blogspot.com/2011/11/hugo-true-sense-of-wonder.html">Hugo</a></i>. Butterfield is a richly expressive performer, and here he displays just the right blend of stubborn, defiant superiority and aching despair.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ford delivers an equally intriguing performance, on the one hand making Graff a gruff, seasoned proponent of the “tough love” school: the sort of cheerfully grumpy bearing we’ve come to expect from the veteran actor. But Graff also has another side that isn’t nearly as attractive, and Ford is equally persuasive when this hardened commander reveals his increasingly desperate allegiance to the belief that the end justifies <i>any</i> means ... even those that irreparably damage his prize pupils.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Too much is at stake to behave otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Davis is the yin to Graff’s yang; Anderson is a much more compassionate psychologist who worries deeply about what is being done to these impressionable young minds. She’s also greatly concerned about the degree to which Ender’s downtime activity — a solo, puzzle-laden computer challenge — has been “invaded” by images of his sister and Formic opponents. Davis’ increasingly defiant objections to Graff’s methods, however, become a bit too shrill: not the best showcase for an actress better known for the graceful subtlety of her performances.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Steinfeld, still coasting on her Oscar-nominated work in the 2010 remake of <i><a href="http://derrickbang.blogspot.com/2010/12/true-grit-larger-than-life.html">True Grit</a></i>, is plucky and sympathetic as Petra, Ender’s staunchest ally. That said, her performance shows little depth; she doesn’t dig deep into her role, the way Butterfield so thoroughly inhabits Ender.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In fairness, Hood’s script more correctly deserves the blame for this. In the filmmaker’s desire to focus on the bond between Ender and Valentine — thus granting Breslin a better showcase for <i>her</i> acting chops — he short-shrifts Petra, Bean and Alai, all of whom play a much larger, and more emotionally crucial, role in Card’s novel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s not necessarily a bad artistic choice on Hood’s part; he obviously struggled to compress the massive tapestry of Card’s novel into a 114-minute film. But those who vividly remember the book's handling of Petra, Bean and Alai are apt to be somewhat disappointed here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A heavily tattooed Ben Kingsley is striking as the half-Maori instructor who takes over when Ender graduates to Command School, and Nonso Anozie makes a strong impression in his brief role as a boot camp-style sergeant. Arias, as well, ensures that we’ll not soon forget the petulantly vicious Bonzo: quite a switch from the goofy free spirit this young actor played earlier this year, in <i><a href="http://derrickbang.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-kings-of-summer-this-film-rules.html">The Kings of Summer</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Characters and performances aside, however, every fan of this novel will want to know how well the battle room skirmishes have been visualized. The news is good: Visual effects supervisor and his company, Digital Domain, have done a slick job. The zero-gravity environment is cleverly, persuasively constructed, and several of Ender’s best campaigns — most notably his squad’s odds-against battle with <i>two</i>opposing teams — leap faithfully off the page.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the other hand, some quieter scenes — such as Harrison Ford’s zero-g “swim” within a spaceship cabin — suffer slightly when compared to the far superior (and very recent) work in <i><a href="http://derrickbang.blogspot.com/2013/10/gravity-grim-survival-drama.html">Gravity</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hood builds his film to an exciting, breathtaking finale, although an epilogue of sorts — also faithful to Card’s novel — gets too philosophically preachy for my taste, and even works against what we’ve seen to this point. Card could better establish the groundwork for this unexpected twist; Hood's film, of necessity short-changing such back-story, sends viewers out on a note that is intended to be upbeat, but instead feels dour and anticlimactic (while clearly setting up a potential sequel).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div>                                                                                                                                   <br /><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, the ride is crisp, energetic and well played up to that point. <i>Ender’s Game</i> also raises intriguing questions, as is intended; this is thoughtful sci-fi, designed to encourage debate while entertaining. It succeeds on both counts.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>

Ender's Game (2013) • View trailer Four stars. Rating: PG-13, for violence and dramatic intensity By Derrick Bang • Originally p...

Prisoners: We cannot escape our nature

6:00 PM Tukiyooo 0

<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><b><i>Prisoners</i> </b></span></span></span></span></span></span><b>(2013) • <a href="http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/wb/prisoners/" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">View trailer</a></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><b> </b><br /><b>Four stars. Rating: R, for profanity, torture and disturbing violent content</b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #5e5e5e; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b>By <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/12885694730612878577" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">Derrick Bang</a> • </b></span>Originally published in <i><a href="http://www.davisenterprise.com/" style="color: #27a9c5; text-decoration: none;">The Davis Enterprise</a></i>, 9.20.13</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>            <br /><div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Revenge thrillers have become a violent — often tawdry — Hollywood staple.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not this one.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V-43GzrMCo6-CbCeQ0U3cuY0VB8BzZJcDt1JGArXfhyWzjJRrKGedLKpK64RxFQN2DWRcTiD2BzzWi-fQ5Gc5niVHkkjYUElQxYM5WU-B3tQRYqunFYmuxiAXY7-j2YRac7ljonG2Tg/s1600/Prisoners+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V-43GzrMCo6-CbCeQ0U3cuY0VB8BzZJcDt1JGArXfhyWzjJRrKGedLKpK64RxFQN2DWRcTiD2BzzWi-fQ5Gc5niVHkkjYUElQxYM5WU-B3tQRYqunFYmuxiAXY7-j2YRac7ljonG2Tg/s400/Prisoners+blog.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">When Alex (Paul Dano, on his back) is released for lack of evidence, Keller (Hugh<br />Jackman) angrily confronts the younger man, convinced that he knows more than he's<br />telling about the disappearance of two little girls. Given time to think and plan, Keller<br />will continue this "conversation" in a less public setting, and with a decidedly more<br />dangerous intensity.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Prisoners</i> is a brooding, atmospheric slow burn: part character drama, part mystery, part thriller ... and all-consuming. It has a distinctly European feel despite the small-town Americana setting: very much in the unsettling mode of French director George Sluizer’s 1988 chiller, <i>Spoorloos</i>, which he remade five years later with an American cast, as <i>The Vanishing</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Prisoners</i> comes from the capable hands of Québec-born director Denis Villeneuve, whose résumé includes tension-laden dramas such as <i>Maelstrom</i> and <i>Polytechnique</i>, and who garnered an Oscar nomination for 2010’s <i>Incendies</i>. Point being, Villeneuve has a superb sense of atmosphere and a knack for making the most innocent scene feel enshrouded by a blanket of malevolence.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He also has a gift for drawing persuasively authentic performances from his actors, and that’s certainly the case here. While the entire cast is compelling, stars Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal are sensational. Both are gifted actors; both have been fine before. Under Villeneuve’s capable guidance, they’re even better.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The story opens on a cold, overcast Thanksgiving Day in a working-class Pennsylvania suburb: the kind of town where kids set up lemonade stands. The homes and yards are tidy but looking a bit distressed: fading paint and weather-beaten vehicles a testament to folks barely hanging on during the tough economy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out in the nearby woods, Keller Dover (Jackman) offers a solemn prayer to God before encouraging teenage son Ralph (Dylan Minnette) to squeeze the trigger and claim his first deer. It’s a clean shot; as they drive the carcass home, Keller — a survivalist by nature — explains that they must be prepared at all times, must be their own strongest advocates, must expect to take charge when others inevitably fail.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keller collects his wife, Grace (Maria Bello), and their 6-year-old daughter, Anna (Erin Gerasimovich); the family strolls up the street to celebrate the holiday with best friends Franklin and Nancy Birch (Terrence Howard, Viola Davis). Ralph pairs off with teenage Eliza (Zoë Soul), who disapproves of the elder Dover’s fondness for hunting; Anna and 7-year-old Joy (Kyla Drew Simmons) play together with the exuberance of small children.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cinematographer Roger Deakins’ camera ... hovers. We feel nervous: can’t explain why. Even as the adults relax after the huge meal, Franklin sharing his lamentable trumpet skills, the utter normality of this staunchly American ritual — playing out, we know, in similar homes across the entire country — is pregnant with building tension.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And yet it’s simply an ordinary celebratory tableau. All is right with the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Until, suddenly, it isn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><a name="more"></a><br />  <div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keller notices first: The little girls haven’t been seen for awhile. Everybody searches — initially calm, increasingly frantic — to no avail. Anna and Joy are simply <i>gone</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Police are summoned; the case falls to Loki (Gyllenhaal), a loner detective whom Keller instinctively mistrusts for his youth, his (supposed) inexperience and his failure to have a family of his own, thereby branding him as somebody who Simply Doesn’t Understand. Ralph remembers an odd, dilapidated RV that had seemed out of place when he and Eliza had taken the little girls for a walk earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The vehicle is found; police arrest its driver, a quiet, withdrawn and deeply frightened twentysomething named Alex Jones (Paul Dano). Much as Loki wants this to be The Guy, there’s nothing on which to build a case. The RV contains no physical evidence; more to the point, the developmentally disabled Alex has the mind and social awareness of a child.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And yet ... he was driving the RV. By himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keller seizes on this little detail, can’t let go of it; to him, this indicates proof. Then, when the police are forced to release this suspect for lack of evidence, Keller is present when Alex looks him straight in the eye and says something that nobody else hears: something possibly innocuous, but Keller thinks otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, so, he takes matters into his own hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On this level, Aaron Guzikowski’s enormously taut and clever script is ripped from contemporary headlines and ceaseless discussions of post-9/11 morality. If “society” — in this case, the local police — seems ineffectual or unqualified, is individual action appropriate? How far should it go? Do the stakes justify <i>any</i> approach, no matter how cruel or heinous? And, God forbid, what if you’re wrong?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Villeneuve subsequently cross-cuts between three simultaneous storylines: Keller’s determined effort to wrest Truth from Alex, with the reluctant participation of Franklin; the agonizing, engulfing stasis that smothers the wives and elder children left back in their homes, as every minute stretches into an eternity of self-recrimination; and Loki’s dogged pursuit of stray threads that offer the tantalizing hope of a lead, but inevitably go nowhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, something’s definitely not right; the vibes are off. Keller has badly misjudged Loki; truth be told, this young detective will move heaven and earth in order to solve this case. Nothing else matters, particularly the dubious glances coming from colleagues and his ineffectual oaf of a precinct captain (Wayne Duvall, everybody’s nightmare bureaucrat come to life).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pay close attention, because details matter; Guzikowski has orchestrated a wickedly fiendish puzzle. I haven’t seen a thriller this carefully layered, this meticulously crafted — one that builds to a slick payoff that puts all the pieces together — since M. Night Shyamalan’s <i>The Sixth Sense</i>, back in 1999 (when that fellow still knew how to make a good movie).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remember how knocked out you were, during that film’s climax? How ingenious you thought it was, at the moment of revelation? Guzikowski delivers the same sort of emotional wallop here.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jackman unerringly navigates a tremendously difficult role, as Keller’s apparently facile personality — impatience, snap judgment, anger-management issues — yields to an unexpectedly complex and badly damaged soul. Keller sees himself as the ultimate father figure: the provider and protector, the White Knight. When he cannot fulfill that role, his notion of self disintegrates: Jackman’s very being — his commanding aura — seems to wither away, as if the bones supporting his frame are crumbling, turning every motion into a herculean effort.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the fury never vanishes; if anything, that particular fire sucks an increasingly proportion of Keller’s life force, leaving him less able to think, feel or question the wisdom of his actions. On top of which, Keller never loses his perceptive edge: He may be stubborn and rash, but he’s not stupid.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s quite a portrait, and we can’t take our eyes off Jackman. We wince time and again, wondering how Keller can make this already frightful situation even worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gyllenhaal has the quieter, less florid role; Loki is procedure personified, a methodical investigator who believes that slow and steady <i>always</i> wins the race. That said, his need to remain calm, to resist the same vengeful impulse that governs Keller, has taken its toll; Loki’s uncontrollably twitching eyes betray his own bottled-up rage, his fear of impotence. When that fury does erupt — quite memorably, in one unexpected moment — the result is shocking.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Otherwise, Loki is deceptively restrained, Gyllenhaal’s misleading smile a truly dangerous thing. I love Loki’s interviews with persons of interest, either in the station house or out in the world; despite his scruffy, sleepless bearing, Gyllenhaal is almost charming. Until he isn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dano, with plenty of misfit characters in his past, is perfectly cast as the helpless, overwhelmed Alex. He radiates the frightened vulnerability and fragility of an injured sparrow; Alex simply is no match for the raw ferocity of a man such as Keller, who — in Dano’s terrified expression — looms as a monster from the worst possible nightmare. Terrified, yet also uncomprehending; the Alex/Keller dynamic is like watching a deaf/mute being tortured by a sadist who doesn’t realize that his victim cannot speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or is it all a sham, and is Dano playing us, the way Edward Norton did so memorably, back in 1996’s <i>Primal Fear</i>? Keller certainly thinks as much; if we share that sentiment, do we become complicit in what comes next?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Howard is achingly raw as the conflicted Franklin, who wants no part of Keller’s “plan” but, at the same time, places far too much value on how he measures up in his best friend’s eyes. No matter what Franklin does, as a result, he’ll betray either himself or Keller; the misery of this Hobson’s Choice radiates from Howard’s agonized gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bello has the most tragic role, because Grace simply shuts down as the catastrophe continues through and beyond the second, third, fourth day. She has bought into her husband’s role as family protector, and cannot cope with his inability to bring their little girl home. Grace’s life force simply drains away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Davis, alternatively, moves Nancy Birch in unexpected directions, suggesting that even the most civilized individual can be pushed too far. Thanks to the intensity of Davis’ performance, we’re not surprised by any of this.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Villeneuve and editors Joel Cox and Gary Roach tighten the screws with ruthless efficiency; despite clocking in at a generous 153 minutes, the tension never flags. Indeed, the intensity simply mounts, much like the long-form TV thrillers that the British deliver so well.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Prisoners</i> — great title, by the way — is quite a ride. See it quickly, before the many layers of Guzikowski’s deliciously twisty narrative are exposed by Internet spoilers and jerkwad TV personalities.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>