Showing posts with label Andy Wachowski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andy Wachowski. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Jupiter Ascending
JUPITER ASCENDING (Andy Wachowski and Lana Wachowski, 2015)
JUPITER ASCENDING looks and feels like it might have been one of the biggest box office hits of 1984 or one of the most expensive flops. The special effects are primarily digital than practical, but otherwise the film’s sensibility stems from the aspiring blockbusters that came in the wake of STAR WARS rather than the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Writer-directors Andy and Lana Wachowski populate grand settings and spaceships with characters whose often goofy designs signal child-like imagination at play. JUPITER ASCENDING’s sincerity opens it to mockery, yet its resistance to circumscribed notions of cool makes it more endearing.
Like most heroes in this kind of mythic story, Jupiter Jones (Mila Kunis) comes from a humble background and harbors no idea of the pivotal role she will play in saving humanity. She was born on a shipping container while her mother was illegally immigrating from Russia to the United States. Although family members tell her she’s destined for great things, it’s hard to put much stock in those words when she and her relatives are scrubbing toilets and cleaning houses to make a meager living.
What Jupiter doesn’t know is that she is the key to settling a family squabble out in space. The three Abrasax siblings own planets that they seed and harvest like corporate farms. Earth ranks among the most valuable of such commodities. Balem Abrasax (Eddie Redmayne) owns Earth, but his brother Titus (Douglas Booth) and sister Kalique (Tuppence Middleton) have designs on taking possession of it from him with Jupiter’s assistance. Titus hires disgraced legionnaire Caine Wise (Channing Tatum) to find Jupiter before Balem has her killed. Saving Jupiter from bounty hunters does not remove her from danger, though. She is whisked into deep space where she must claim her rightful royal position and survive the scheming Abrasax clan.
Strip away the science fiction and fantasy trappings, and what remains is a fairy tale with some Shakespearean drama and economic criticism thrown in for good measure. Kunis makes for a plucky princess who, while occasionally needing to be rescued by a wolf/human hybrid in gravity-surfing boots, is capable of navigating interstellar bureaucracy and negotiations. The Wachowskis have great fun steering Jupiter through the gears of government as they pay comedic tribute to BRAZIL and bring in Terry Gilliam for a cameo to certify the reference. The Bard-like flourish is found in the privileged Abrasaxes, whose cosmic property battle sets events in motion.
With its view that humans are unaware of the forces controlling their lives and suggestions of pansexuality, JUPITER ASCENDING is readily identifiable as a film by the makers of THE MATRIX trilogy. Whereas that series became bogged down in philosophical queries, this film considers matters of consumption and purpose as seasoning than the meat. The dawn chase across Chicago’s skyline and on its streets is a dazzling setpiece that demonstrates the Wachowskis still know how to stage an action sequence not bound to the laws of physics. Their personal touch is responsible for the hokeyness that might make JUPITER ASCENDING appear quaint and perhaps laughable at times, but that lack of cynicism also allows them to pull off the sillier elements in this fable.
Grade: B-
Tuesday, November 06, 2012
Cloud Atlas
CLOUD ATLAS (Lana Wachowski, Tom Tykwer, and Andy Wachowski, 2012)
CLOUD ATLAS plays connect the dots across the years in six concurrent stories with the same primary actors playing multiple roles over the different periods. Lawyer Adam Ewing (Jim Sturgess) sees firsthand the horrors of slavery in the South Pacific islands in 1849. In his diary, later to be published, he writes about this and his rapidly declining health on the voyage home. Robert Frobisher (Ben Whishaw) is reading it in 1936 as he works and stays with a famous composer in Cambridge, England. On the side Frobisher writes “The Cloud Atlas Sextet”, which is largely unremembered yet sought out by Luisa Rey (Halle Berry), a reporter investigating a possible cover-up at a nuclear power plant in San Francisco in 1973.
Luisa’s story is one that crosses the path of London book publisher Timothy Cavendish (Jim Broadbent) in 2012. He writes about his own experiences hiding out from a client’s thugs and has it turned into a film, part of which is seen in 2144 Neo Seoul, Korea by server clone Sonmi-451 (Doona Bae). Her inspirational words are passed down through an unspecified number of years and elevate her to god-like status among the primitives like Zachry (Tom Hanks).
The scope and ambition in CLOUD ATLAS are so enormous that the three writer/directors--Lana Wachowski, Tom Tykwer, and Andy Wachowski--and editor Alexander Berner don’t so much as tame novelist David Mitchell’s unruly tangle of loosely linked plots across centuries but make it presentable and even coherent. Berner’s editing is often nothing short of remarkable in connecting these disparate pieces so that they seem part of a whole. As an instructional in crosscutting, it’s quite an achievement.
CLOUD ATLAS shouldn’t work. Sometimes it doesn’t. Prosthetics and makeup are used to sell the transformations for those in the main cast who switch genders and races from story to story. Often the actors look ridiculous. The pidgin English that passes for the future language of a post-apocalyptic tribe can sound silly. The shifts in tone from one storytelling style to another can be jarring and incompatible.
Yet CLOUD ATLAS proves to be worthy of wrestling with its big philosophical ideas, including the seemingly misguided ones, and engaging with a consistent vision of fluidity among the ages and eternal truths. For such a sprawling endeavor, CLOUD ATLAS reduces to some basic points. At heart are the beliefs that individual voices can make a difference across time, if not in their own, and that love is ultimately what endures. CLOUD ATLAS is prone to sappiness and threatens to disappear up its own tail like THE MATRIX trilogy, but it builds to an irresistible final act celebrating the human spirit.
Grade: B-
CLOUD ATLAS plays connect the dots across the years in six concurrent stories with the same primary actors playing multiple roles over the different periods. Lawyer Adam Ewing (Jim Sturgess) sees firsthand the horrors of slavery in the South Pacific islands in 1849. In his diary, later to be published, he writes about this and his rapidly declining health on the voyage home. Robert Frobisher (Ben Whishaw) is reading it in 1936 as he works and stays with a famous composer in Cambridge, England. On the side Frobisher writes “The Cloud Atlas Sextet”, which is largely unremembered yet sought out by Luisa Rey (Halle Berry), a reporter investigating a possible cover-up at a nuclear power plant in San Francisco in 1973.
Luisa’s story is one that crosses the path of London book publisher Timothy Cavendish (Jim Broadbent) in 2012. He writes about his own experiences hiding out from a client’s thugs and has it turned into a film, part of which is seen in 2144 Neo Seoul, Korea by server clone Sonmi-451 (Doona Bae). Her inspirational words are passed down through an unspecified number of years and elevate her to god-like status among the primitives like Zachry (Tom Hanks).
The scope and ambition in CLOUD ATLAS are so enormous that the three writer/directors--Lana Wachowski, Tom Tykwer, and Andy Wachowski--and editor Alexander Berner don’t so much as tame novelist David Mitchell’s unruly tangle of loosely linked plots across centuries but make it presentable and even coherent. Berner’s editing is often nothing short of remarkable in connecting these disparate pieces so that they seem part of a whole. As an instructional in crosscutting, it’s quite an achievement.
CLOUD ATLAS shouldn’t work. Sometimes it doesn’t. Prosthetics and makeup are used to sell the transformations for those in the main cast who switch genders and races from story to story. Often the actors look ridiculous. The pidgin English that passes for the future language of a post-apocalyptic tribe can sound silly. The shifts in tone from one storytelling style to another can be jarring and incompatible.
Yet CLOUD ATLAS proves to be worthy of wrestling with its big philosophical ideas, including the seemingly misguided ones, and engaging with a consistent vision of fluidity among the ages and eternal truths. For such a sprawling endeavor, CLOUD ATLAS reduces to some basic points. At heart are the beliefs that individual voices can make a difference across time, if not in their own, and that love is ultimately what endures. CLOUD ATLAS is prone to sappiness and threatens to disappear up its own tail like THE MATRIX trilogy, but it builds to an irresistible final act celebrating the human spirit.
Grade: B-
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