Angel City Media
84 min., dir. by WT Morgan, with John Doe, Exene Cervenka, Billy Zoom, and DJ Bonebreak

After coming to the conclusion that writing a review that simply said Just go buy this was kinda pretentious (and also that despite their 30-plus years in existence as a band, there might be some folks who still have no idea who the hell X is), I opted for the standard type of review.

If you haven’t heard the band X, try to conjure up what an electrified and broke-assed Woody Guthrie would sound like if he had lived in a seedy Los Angeles apartment, drank cheap wine, ate cheap junk food, and listened to Leadbelly, ’60s garage rock, and lots of punk. And honestly, that still doesn’t do the band any descriptive justice.

Now, in case their history is unknown to you, X started out in Los Angeles back in 1979. The band was then and still is as follows: John Doe on bass and vocals, Exene Cervenka on vocals, Billy Zoom on guitar, and DJ Bonebreak on drums. Along with bands like The Alley Cats, Fear, Circle Jerks, The Bags, Black Flag, The Germs, and a mess of others, started punk rock in LA. X stood apart from most of the herd because they could play their instruments well and had a surf/punk/folk/rockabilly sound that further separated them from the others. Add the stand-still guitar work of Zoom, the mentally fading, Asian cat lady-esque harmonies of Exene, and the band’s often ironic, gritty street poems for lyrics, and you’re looking at Americana from the other side of the tracks. Simply fucking beautiful — bad teeth, ill-fitting clothes, and all.

Oh. The review.

The DVD is a re-release of the 1986 film, and as with any DVD re-release, you’ve got to check out the bonus material first, right? The extra footage for The Unheard Music is of Exene and John giving their take on the movie, their songs, Hollywood in the early ’80s, snippets of how X formed and was signed, and just life in general. There’s also interviews with Angel City Media who made the film, the theatrical trailer (eh, kind of a mandatory part of the bonus crud) and an outtake/alternative shot of the song “Some Other Time.” The dialogues are cool, the song outtake is cool, and the trailer is cool (as far as trailers for movies go).

So overall? Cool.

The off-kilter vibe of the band and the LA scene is perfectly captured right off the bat with the reading  of a letter from a slightly unstable fan. That leads into live footage of the song “Los Angeles” and the blowing up of the legendary Hollywood sign. Seriously…with that type of intro, whether you know the band or not, you sort of know where this ride’s going, and you know it’s going to be big fun.

After that, the film consists of band recollections about the early LA scene and its dirty birth followed by a history lesson on the band, montages of still pictures, and classic TV ads, all interspersed with well-shot, live footage (17 songs total).

The film itself is incredible — amazingly shot, stellar visual concepts, funny, tight editing — just a perfectly executed film. Part art film, part live concert film, part social commentary, part history lesson, part documentary, part music video, all essential.

(Music Video Distributors, PO Box 280, Oaks, PA 19456)

Last year, I wrote a fairly scathing review of Battle: L.A. Not too long after, I suffered through the pain of Sucker Punch, opening my review with an apology to Battle: L.A. The same phenomenon has struck again as Man on a Ledge: no suspense, wasted talent, and a plot more translucent than plastic wrap.

Nick Cassidy (Sam Worthington) is a disgraced cop who’s imprisoned for a crime of which he claims innocence. After breaking out, he heads to Manhattan’s Roosevelt Hotel, books a room under a false identity, eats some lobster and french fries chased with champagne (a top notch combo), and then heads out onto the ledge. On the ledge for about a mere 10 seconds an old woman spots Cassidy and draws gawking crowds and police to the situation. Cassidy has one request: to speak with Detective Lydia Mercer.

Why Mercer? Will he jump? Is he innocent?

Those are several of the questions Man on a Ledge hopes you would ask, but instead the only question I had was, “When will this end?” The cavalcade of characters are all written as typical thriller stereotypes, with thinly veiled motives. No words need to come out of their mouths for the audience to realize what role they play in the story and where they’ll end up.

The bumbling duo of Jamie Bell and Genesis Rodriguez as the comic relief felt awkward and misplaced. Their sickening back-and-forth diatribe brought up more questions of inconsistency than humor; mere dialogue for dialogue’s sake that contradicts the entire movie. Meanwhile, they commit some of the most grating movie mistakes of all time — at one point, Rodriguez’s character crawls into an air-duct at knee level. The duct is literally adjacent to the room she is breaking into, yet she pops out of the ceiling. The whole thing is highly offensive and outright disrespectful to the audience’s intelligence.

With less to offer the viewing public than your typical thriller, Man on a Ledge fails at every turn. It takes an already worn-out formula and throws it at a blank canvas and hopes something good sticks, yet even the overstuffed cast can’t do a single thing to make seeing Man on a Ledge worthwhile.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind.

In recent years, Liam Neeson has become the quintessential ass-kicking everyman. Based on that fact, when you’re sitting at home and the trailer for The Grey comes on, you would think the film consists of 117 minutes of Neeson punching wolves in the face. Obviously not the case, the stark lack of action is not what makes The Grey fall short of its potential.

Ottway (Neeson) works with some unruly types who drill for oil in Alaska. His job: to hide in the brush and pick off any wolves that may come to attack the crews. This is supposed to be his final job; he supposes that he is finished and heading home. However, when the plane carrying him and the group of miscreants crashes in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, Ottway has to take charge, as the remaining men seem to be the focus of a wild pack of angry wolves.

Director Joe Carnahan scales back from his recent full-blown flashy action pictures and moves back into his Narc mode, the film that bought him more attention from mainstream audiences. The Grey is meant to be suspenseful, but foreshadows every move it makes. Carnahan hasn’t lost his thoughtful touch, but his tight storytelling from a film like Narc seems to have been lost. It’s unclear if he’s trying to meld his two personas together, or if the studio pushed for more terror, making the wolves look like jacked up video game archetypes that appear false on every level.

Knowledge of wolves and their natural behavior is in no way my forte. Watching The Grey would make anyone believe that these monsters kill anything and everything in their path. It would be stupid to say that can’t happen, but my better judgment and basic intuition point in the opposite direction. And in addition to this point of contention, there are still a ton of issues with this film.

Two things are revealed fairly quickly: no one is coming to save the stranded crew, and that staying by the crash site is tantamount to placing a plate of delicious ground chuck in front of the wild hunters. As the group heads for the trees, we are shown the survivors’ difficultly trudging through snow up to their knees. Their movement is about as fast as a sleepwalking snail, when suddenly, the wolves are upon them: “Run!” Magically, the snow and winds are no issue, and these battered men are able to speed away like gazelles. This happens on more than one occasion, as unbelievable leaps and acts of survival appear throughout.

Eventually, the protagonists discuss what they are fighting to stay alive for. Ottway reveals a four-line poem his father wrote that describes his will to fight — and this questionable two-hour survival movie is a visual depiction of what the poem stands for. Well, why do I need someone to stretch out a story that pales in comparison to what Bear Grylls does in real life? Isn’t your succinct four-line poem illustration enough?

From its implausible situations, to its shaky storytelling (which includes a completely unnecessary and out-of-left-field twist), The Grey feels like a story that should be a short novella and stay that way. I don’t need action for a movie to be worth my time, and The Grey is a watch-able, valiant effort. However, it needs an overhaul to be considered a great picture.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind.

Do people remember that Steven Soderbergh was the father of modern American independent film making? Still producing indie style films, the mainstream flocks around his George Clooney and Matt Damon vehicles. Combining the more stylish mystery/thriller aspect of his second (and highly underrated) film Kafka with the cool/slick demeanor of his numbered Ocean’s films, Soderbergh delivers the high end action film in Haywire. Purely a popcorn film, Haywire is an interesting experiment that works, though still gets a little lost in the popularized Soderbergh heist formula.

Mallory (Gina Carano) is an elite combat specialist. She is an integral member of a private military/specialist contract team — think of her as the female James Bond for hire (though she probably could take any Bond in hand-to-hand combat). For reasons untold, Mallory is getting out of the game; unfortunately, her final job is not what she thought it was. Treated as a fugitive by everyone — including those she worked with — Mallory’s new mission is to clear her name and find out who wants her dead.

The premise is fairly typical, if not completely burnt out. Haywire isn’t trying to thrill you with a story — you can probably figure out the entire plot in the first 20 minutes. Instead, Soderbergh set out to do two things: present typical action scenarios in a more stylish and arguably realistic manner, and have female MMA fighter Gina Carano kick the shit out of famous male leads. Fight scenes are devoid of any music, leaving heavy panting and combat contact as the only audio to focus on. Shot in longer takes and with less cuts, the action displays its choreography a bit more, but no more than most kung fu films. Haywire proves that adrenaline-pumping, fast-paced shooting and sound work are not needed to provide a heart-pounding experience. He takes the excitement and technical prowess out of the MMA cage and places it in real world atmosphere — and succeeds.

It’s the downtime between the action where Haywire loses traction. With mirror images of the Ocean’s films, the experience feels so familiar that one has to wonder if Soderbergh is beginning to lose himself in his most popular creation. Nothing in Haywire points to signs of failure, but it certainly does seem to purposely remind you of something else you may have liked.

Following his past attempts to use nontraditional film stars as his leads (porn actress Sasha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience, or the litany of comedians who play most every lawyer in The Informant!), Soderbergh built this film around Gina Carano after seeing one of her fights. Carano puts up a worthwhile performance, though in many scenes you can feel her trying too hard. It’s the right move to make though, as it wouldn’t feel believable to see any big time actress choking out Michael Fassbender with her thighs.

With another stellar cast that includes Fassbender, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas, Bill Paxton, and even a tolerable Channing Tatum, the biggest treat to me was Ewan McGregor. Thinking back on his career, I can’t recall too many McGregor roles where he plays an American. Maybe I’m just so used to hearing his native accent that the slight Midwestern twang in his voice struck me as utterly brilliant.

In a world dominated by fast-cut, blood-spurting, tough guy action films, Haywire has its place. The sheer beauty of its fisticuffs is enough to draw the viewer in; however, it won’t change the way future Hollywood beat-em-ups are made. Despite the noticeable Ocean’s comparisons and the heavy-handed attempts to be different, Haywire provides and enjoyable ride of pretty boys getting humiliated.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind.

Universal Pictures
109 min., dir. by Baltasar Kormakur with Mark Wahlberg, Kate Beckinsale, and Giovanni Ribisi

In 2000, Giovanni Ribisi costarred in the big budget remake of Gone in 60 Seconds. In the film, he botched a job stealing cars, so the psychopath who hired him forces Ribisi’s character’s brother (a retired car thief) to run a job, or else they all die. Contraband is pretty much the same premise, minus the cars, plus convoluted twists, with Ribisi in the mad man role.

When his younger brother-in-law botches a job running drugs, retired smuggling legend Chris Farraday (Mark Wahlberg) puts his security systems business on hold to come back to the game. The man who hired Farraday’s brother-in-law has made threats to his entire family, so Chris has to suit up to save the day. Refusing to smuggle drugs, Chris decides to transport a hearty pile of counterfeit bills to pay off the debt owed. Things are not made easy, though, as the mad man pulling the strings prefers to smuggle drugs, not money.

As a viewer, you can count on nearly every action film/crime thriller having some unbelievable holes in the story. At times they can be forgivable, but Contraband takes the premise to a new level: cutting large holes in heavily manned tankers without being noticed, especially when the captain and his security crew know you are a smuggler? Moving a tremendous stack of seemingly real currency from the highest point of the  ship to the lowest, where it is slowly placed into the large hole without anyone noticing? Every limit is tested in regards to the audience’s patients, as an already tight time frame of one hour to complete their acquisition of the fake money is extended by poor circumstances and a stop to rob an armored car. That one hour consists of action and travel that had to take at least three hours. It doesn’t matter your friends bought you more time by messing with the boat, it couldn’t happen.

There are many other nonsensical points in the movie, and at one point, I became enraged. Eventually, it is revealed that most smugglers simply pay a fee to the boat’s captain, who allows anyone to smuggle their wares for a price. At the same time, Chris says early on, “You have to spend money to make money,” referring to the purchasing of the fake bills to sell them off again. If this is the case, just spend the money to pay the captain off as well and make life easy on yourself. Chris has the stigma of being the best smuggler in the world, who came up with elaborate schemes to pull off some of the greatest jobs of all time. Why go through all the trouble? Pay the fee and relax.

The viewing experience is not made any easier by the overuse of rack-and-pull zoom shots during times when there is no action, as if to make up for five minutes free of chases or gunfire. It’s a jarring, unpleasant, and makes a big budget movie look like it was shot by a drunk teenager.

Featuring a loaded cast doing their best to make the film a worthwhile viewing experience, nothing seems like it can save this film. Mark Wahlberg is in his flared-nostril, wide-eyed face mode, and Diego Luna’s beard looks like it came out of a cereal box. Based on the previews, I was ready to stab Giovanni Ribisi in the face. I always seem to be turned off by whatever weird voice he is putting on, but it worked here. His portrayal never feels overacted, and it’s appreciated.

At 109 minutes, Contraband is not a long film, but it felt like I was sitting in the theater for an eternity. As increasing amounts of sub-moronic curveballs pile on, the madness feels as though it will never end. Worst of all, the ending is painfully obvious, and the fact the movie does nothing to hide its poorly outlined plot doesn’t help. Good luck making it through the halfway point of this film.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind.

Film4
105 min., dir. by Phyllida Lloyd, with Meryl Streep and Jim Broadbent

Elvis Costello recorded perhaps one of the most spiteful tracks in the history of music on his 1989 masterpiece, Spike. The song (“Tramp The Dirt Down”) boils down to Costello asking God to make sure he lives long enough to see Margaret Thatcher die so he can stomp on her grave. Whether you are for or against Thatcherism (or feel as strongly as Mr. Costello does) it’s hard to imagine someone could make a movie about the former British prime minister without coming down on one side of the argument. Surprisingly, The Iron Lady manages to stay substantially ambiguous while still making a point.

Spending a majority of its 105-minute running time with a present day representation of Margaret, The Iron Lady puts a new spin on then flashback biopic. Now battling with her fading memory, the film follows Margaret as she argues with her deceased husband. A now purely working memory of her lover, he acts as her opposing inner dialogue. The film explores a woman who was always thinking about and for herself. Her new inner dialogue in the form of Denis Thatcher beats her up for her mistakes.

While the film uses the truths and facts of Thatcher’s rise to PM and her subsequent 10 years at the position, The Iron Lady is much more a character study of what it takes to hold such a powerful position. You could do right or wrong, but it is how you do it that creates your legacy.

By now, everyone expects only great things from Meryl Streep, and she delivers here; in fact, I’d say that if anyone other than Streep wins any best actress award in the coming season, something has gone terribly wrong. With The Iron Lady, Streep may have given the best performance by a lead female in the history of cinema. From her frail state to the terrifying glares she throws at her MPs during closed meetings, Streep has redefined acting.

The release of The Iron Lady comes at an odd time where everything has become the 99 percent against the 1 percent. Thatcher is a figure the one percent support, and her policies ruined the lower classes in Britain, it’s a fact. But by focusing on a pitiful woman who can’t face her own pains, The Iron Lady manages to ease all viewers into an enjoyable character study without harping on a partisan analysis.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind.

British indie cinema produces some amazing films, and two of my top five films of this year fit into that category. After hearing a lot of buzz from the festival circuit about Kill List and seeing its numerous award nominations and wins, my interests were piqued, especially for a movie being boxed as a horror film. Much more along the lines of a twisted thriller, Kill List will fester inside your brain for weeks to come, even if you hate it or don’t understand it.

Jay and Shel are your typical young married couple who obsess over first world problems. As the film begins, Shel is fuming because Jay has been out of work for eight months, prompted by a mishap on the job in Kiev that still troubles him, and the couple have no money to fix their broken hot tub. A good man at his core, Jay often flies off the handle, only to come back down and apologize. That being said, he never raises his voice or his fist against his son. For being such a seemingly morally grounded person, Jay’s profession is somewhat startling: hitman for hire.

Under the guise of introducing his new girlfriend to the unhappy couple, Jay’s best friend, Gal, meets with Jay and Shel for a dinner party. In actuality, Gal is Jay’s working partner and is there to brief Jay on his first hit in eight months. Jumping back into the game comes easy to Jay, but the circumstances of his new job set off an array of strange events.

Kill List is a roller coaster ride that only travels upward. With only a slight hint of mystery wafting through, the first half of Kill List is fairly tame — a lot of drinking, arguing, making up, and decent laughs; then, the first hit comes. The audience is prepared for craziness…but no. The hit is quick and bereft of gory, twisted detail. Maybe I was misled as to what I was about to see.

The second target is treated with more malice; the scenario is slightly more unsettling, but still, nothing that hasn’t been seen before — that is, until Gal leaves Jay alone with the subject. At that point, the movie smacks you across the face with detailed madness you never would have never expected. Shocking and unrelenting, Kill List suddenly makes you forget its tame beginnings. The film turns on a dime, ramps up the weirdness dial, and never lets go. Like an adult pulling a frightened child through a fun house, Kill List looks you in the eye to say, “Don’t worry, the bad man is gone, let’s keep going,” only to shove you into a pit of snakes who haven’t eaten in 10 days. It’s deplorable and a sick trick, but one you won’t forget.

Starring young actors who have been wading through smaller parts in big films and grinding through BBC series, the acting is top notch. Apart from Gal (played by comedian Michael Smiley, who many may recognize as Tyres from the Edgar Wright/Simon Pegg series, “Spaced”), many will wonder how they haven’t seen these faces before. Not letting the manic situations at hand drag them into overacting, the performances lend credence to the seedy underbelly being portrayed.

Kill List is more of an experience than a cautionary tale. It delivers you a story, characters you can connect to (even if they do some bad things), and enough morality to pass as something more than a shocker. But that is what Kill List really wants to do: lead you into a dark place, let you leave, and challenge you to forget it.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache (http://shalitsstache.com) and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind (http://ipaintmymind.org).

Columbia Pictures
158 min. dir. by David Fincher, with Rooney Mara, Daniel Craig, and Christopher Plummer

Someone is trying to test my ability to not reference source material for new films. Now in its third iteration (first the novel, then the Swedish film), The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is the R-rated Harry Potter of this generation. Attempting to push the envelope, this new version is sure to shock and prod at those who are unaware of what they are about to see. For fans of the book or original film, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is a two-and-a-half-hour battle of debating which film got it right.

Recently shamed and vilified investigative reporter Mikael Blomkvist has received an odd request to meet with aging industrialist Henrik Vanger, who promises the meeting will be worth his time. Troubled and sheltered Lisbeth Salander, whose life is a whirlwind to begin with, is stuck in a world of pain after her close friend and state-appointed guardian suffered a stroke. During his investigation, Blomkvist learns that Salander conducted an illegally thorough background check on him and realizes he needs her expertise to help with his investigation. After spending time dealing with their own issues, Blomkvist and Salander are thrust together in an odd twist of fate to find Henrik Vanger in his search for who killed his niece 45 years ago.

After an overindulgent James Bond-style credit sequence, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo dives right into immediate character development. A more meticulous study than that of the original, those familiar with the story may find themselves itching for the more investigative pieces to fall into place. Having never read the book (but seeing the original film), the title always throws me for a loop. Lisbeth obviously had a tattoo of a dragon, but the story does not just follow her and does not feel that it is truly about her. Yes, she becomes the pure focal point of the follow-ups, but the book’s original Swedish title, Men Who Hate Women, helps to broaden the story’s point.

Put the two film version next to each other and it becomes a pick-and-choose adventure of which parts worked well in one, but not the other. The original film spent much more time exploring the computer hacker side of Lisbeth’s world, whereas the new film treats it more like a throwaway. You obviously know she is an expert at it, but it asks more of the viewer to fill in the gaps. The original also flushed out some of the minor players a bit more, making the mystery a little more expansive. Focusing more on just the main players makes the outcome even more obvious than in in the Swedish version.

Both films suffer from having to breeze through the damaged history of the Vanger family. While I’m sure it is far more expansive in the book, it’s hard to focus on the mountains of information being thrown out in the film. In this version, names are thrown about and characters are introduced, but they seem to disappear quickly and add no weight to the situation. Even the investigation whips by once Lisbeth is on the case. The growing relationship between the two main characters seems more focused in the first adaptation.

In writing this review, I can already tell I am spending too much time comparing two movies, but that is what anyone familiar with the books and/or films will do. All I can think about is how the new version seemed better grounded and less flimsy. At the same time, the original took out the right sections of unnecessary back stories to make the film move quicker. The one thing the original has over the new version in spades is the parade picture discovery scenes. What was an eerie and chilling examination the first time around becomes more muddled and feeling less here.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is a mystery without much mystery. A vessel for a story about the abuse of women, the films seems to spend too much time on the investigative side, and this takes away from what it’s meant to stand for. The power and horror is all there, but too much time trying to sort out the details muddle the point. Those who have not delved into the world of the Millennium series are sure to be drawn in by the shocking events within the film, but I fear they will be caught up in the mystery as well, missing the real power of the story.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache(http://shalitsstache.com) and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind (http://ipaintmymind.org).

DreamWorks
146 min., dir. by Steven Spielberg, with Jeremy Irvine, Emily Watson, and Peter Mullan

I always try my best to base my reviews solely on the product at hand and not its source material, but I can’t help but think that maybe the storytelling of War Horse has more of an impact as a stage production. The film features incredible effects and expansive battle scenes far greater than what could be presented on stage, but that doesn’t save the movie from being a massive letdown.

Looking to buy a cheap plow horse at auction, Ted Narracott decides to spend more than he should on a horse not fit for the job, solely because he sees some intangible quality in the animal. The horse turns out be be from a neighboring farm, and Ted’s son Albert has watched the horse grow up and has had an attachment to him since day one. Performing a miracle by actually plowing an entire field in one night, just as the farm’s landlord was preparing to cancel the lease, Joey (as the horse is named) suddenly proves to be invaluable.  Unfortunately, torrential rains destroy the Narracott’s crops, and Ted has to sell Joey to an army captain to raise his rent money. From that point forward, Joey becomes entangled in every aspect of the war and changes hands to a new owner nearly every other day.

Focusing on the story alone, yes, this is meant to be an uplifting tale of improbable means, but let’s face the facts. In real life, based on the situations mapped out, this horse would have been shot 52 times in the first half hour of the movie. Not because it would be the victim of stray fire or general warfare, but simply because it requires far too much chiding to do any task because it was not properly trained. In the early 1900s, it took less than a blink of an eye to put down a horse in these situations. Being an allegory about the toughness and bravery of soldiers or not, this horse survived by the skin of its teeth way too often.

To reference the work done by the horse in the film as anything less than a performance is a crime. The actions this creature performs are breathtaking. Certainly doing its job replacing the stage puppet, I dare you not to be awestruck by the animal’s prowess. However, besides the grandiose trench warfare sequences that for the most part are horseless, the movie drowns in its own schmaltzy drama. The fantastic work getting the horse to play a part goes unrewarded.

Just as ET was the story of a boy and his dog (where the dog is from outer space), War Horse is essentially Lassie, Come Home. A brilliant, special animal gets separated from its owner and the love the two have for one another brings them back together, no matter the odds against them. In the case of War Horse, though, every character seems to pay too much attention to the horse, to the point where wounded and dying soldiers receive worse treatment or are flat out ignored. At a certain point, it feels that anyone connected to the horse will probably die prematurely. Am I the only one who finds this offensive?

Soldiers are strong, no matter what you throw at them; they will always go back into the fray. Everything you do in life leads you home. Friendships are unbreakable. Fight for what you know is right. The horrors of the world leave for better things. Take your pick of what message you want War Horse to send you. It hits them all in one way or another, just not in any worthwhile fashion. A film that tries to expand the world of the play only to finish just like a stage production, War Horse drags its way across the finish line.

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Matthew Schuchman is the founder and film critic of Movie Reviews From Gene Shalit’s Moustache(http://shalitsstache.com) and also the contributing film writer for IPaintMyMind(http://ipaintmymind.org).

Paramount Pictures/Columbia Pictures
107 min., dir. by Steven Spielberg, with Jamie Bell, Daniel Craig, Andy Serkis,

Even if you don’t appreciate any of the partnering names, The Adventures if Tintin may be the greatest collaboration of filmmakers to ever work on a non-anthology feature length film. The film is directed by Steven Spielberg and produced by Peter Jackson (who will reverse rolls for the sequel), with a script by Steven Moffat (BBC’s “Sherlock,” “Doctor Who,” and “Coupling”), Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), Joe Cornish (Attack the Block), and stars the voices of Jamie Bell, Daniel Craig, Nick Frost, Simon Pegg, and Andy Serkis. With all that talent, I thought the end result would have been much more spectacular.

Ace investigative reporter Tintin and his dog Snowy are out and about at a local market when Tintin comes across a model boat that he must have. Seconds after making his purchase, numerous shady characters offer up a hefty sum for the model. Refusing to sell, Tintin takes the boat home, where things just get weirder. The ship breaks, his home is broken into and the ship is stolen, a man gets shot to death on his front step — Tintin has stepped into something he doesn’t understand. However, this series of events sets in motion Tintin’s next investigative adventure and ultimately teams him up with his polar opposite, Captain Haddock.

Whether it was a geeky love letter from the fanboy writers or a redo by the film’s director, The Adventures of Tintin comes off as an apology for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Replace Tintin with Indy and add Nazis and snakes, and the two franchises would be identical. Disappointed fans of the Indian Jones films will take Tintin to heart and be thrilled by the resurrection of the good-spirited Spielberg action film style. While I’m not saying I dislike Indiana Jones films, the obvious overwrought comparison left a bitter taste in my mouth. With tons of elaborate actions scenes, gunfire, and booze, the film seems to shout, “Look what I can do,” but fails to fully keep my attention. Tintin is still entertaining, but for a technically gorgeous film from an unprecedented meeting of minds, Tintin is simply more of the same.

The indisputable triumph of The Adventures of Tintin is the animation. Weta digital has taken its talents to a new height and have created a group of the most realistic motion-captured human beings. Detailed wrinkles and movements are complemented to the highest extent with amazing mouth movement. However, this begs the question to be asked: with a film where embellished noses and ears are the only distinguishable differences from real life, is it necessary to create a fully animated feature?

The voice acting also is a high point for the film, specifically that of Daniel Craig and Nick Frost. Craig’s voice as the film’s villain was completely unrecognizable to the point I started to doubt it was really him, while I was only to distinguish Frost’s voice by identifying that of Simon Pegg’s who plays the other half of the bumbling twin detectives, the Thompsons. The entire cast did a fantastic job of not taking the characters into the world of the absurd and it only strengthened the film.

Suffice it to say, I was let down by The Adventures of Tintin. This doesn’t mean it’s not entertaining or a bad film. I still am unsure how parents will react to children seeing the film, as it is full of alcoholism and gunfire, though it’s nothing we haven’t seen in any of the Indy films. Maybe I went into the theater with expectations so high, they could only be knocked down. Either way, hot off the heels of Scorsese’s 3D trumph Hugo, The Adventures of Tintin is an ant hill sitting next to a mountain.