Kevin's Comicbook Movie Review

[Kevin Roegele]

Inspired and in tribute to CFE's 100 Comic Book Movie Countdown, here is my own comicbook movie review thread. This won't be a countdown of my top 100 as that's a task beyond me, and I'll also try to cover different films than CFE has when I can. Some of the lesser known and more obscure movies of the genre.


DICK TRACY

Year of release: 1990

Director: Warren Beatty

Starring: Warren Beatty (Dick Tracy), Al Pacino (Big Boy Caprice), Gleen Headley (Tess Trueheart), Charlie Korsmo (The Kid), Madonna (Breathless Mahoney), Paul Sorvino (Lips Manlis), James Tolkan (Numbers), Dustin Hoffman (Mumbles)

Running time: 105 mins.

Avaliable on DVD


EVEN IN AMONGST comicbook movies, Dick Tracy stands out as unique. Many movies of the genre offer stylish visuals akin to the source material, but Dick Tracy goes so far as to become a live-action comic in itself. Suffice to say, it's not a movie to be watched for storyline or characterisation. It's a visually delicious film stocked with amusing characters, well executed but low on real ambition.

Back in the heyday of the Dick Tracy comic strip, few would predict it would ever become a Disney movie. The creation of Chester Gould, it began in 1931 and revolved around violent clashes between the mob and the police, lead by Tracy. Filled with bizarre-looking villains (which went on to influence Batman's rogues gallery) and a two-fisted cop determined to bring them down, Dick Tracy was film noir in caracature. It runs to this day in numerous newspapers and online, and has been adapted to radio, movie serials, television and animation. A major movie had been in the planning stages since the early eighties, but needed the success of Batman in 1989 to really kick off.

The film revolves around Tracy's attempt to bring down suspected gangland boss Big Boy Caprice. Caprice himself takes out his major rival early in the film, and 'inherits' his floozy, Breathless Mahoney. During Tracy's unconclusive run-ins with Caprice, Mahoney attemtps to seduce him, but Tracy wants her to testify against Caprice first and foremost, which she refuses to do. Their attraction puts Tracy at odds with his girlfriend Tess Trueheart, who along with with Tracy has become an unoffical surrogate parent of a homeless street thief called simply the Kid.

Dick Tracy influenced comicbook movies in two ways; firstly it's oft-discussed visual style which attempts to replicate the look of the comic. It uses bright, flat colours, and concentrates on green, yellow, red and blue. Blacks are matte, Tracy's coat is almost banana, while others dress in oranges and purples. There is only one shade of each colour; a red car will match a red door which will match a red fire hydrant. Establishing shots of the city use elaborate sets combined with paintings that deliberately recall Warner Bros cartoons; indeed, Tracy watches an opera early in the film which looks for all the world like a Road Runner short.

Beatty isn't just using style for it's own end, he's commenting on the simple beauty of old fashioned heroics, when morality seemed to be as a cop in a yellow hat blasting gangsters. Yet it's hard to get caught up in the thin story as it is, but when every other shot takes you out, reminds you it's a movie, it's nigh on impossible. The viewer finds themself admiring what seems to be a painting until a train rumbles past or smoke plumes from a rooftop.

Many films have been influenced by Dick Tracy's stylistic approach, notably The Mask (1994), Batman Forever (1995) and Sin City (2005). However, while none of these films have been so bold in their imagery, all three managed to intergrate their plot and visuals, something Dick Tracy never achieves.

The other major highlight of the film is the cast. Forget the Batman movies or Superman, how's this for an all-star line-up; Warren Beatty, Al Pacino, Dustin Hoffman, Madonna, Paul Sorvino (who also appeared in Rocketeer), James Tolkan, Kathy Bates, Dick Van Dyke, Colm Meaney, James Caan....it's certainly fun playing spot the celebrity under the outrageous make-up many of them wear. Apparently seventeen (!) of the greatest villains from the comic appear onscreen here, many of whom played by the stars listed above. One could question the logic aquiring such big names and then hiding their faces beneath such elaborate prosthetics - but they all seem to be having so much fun it's forgivable.

Beatty plays Tracy as the 30's personification of decency; upstanding, honest, restrained, noble. He lacks the square jaw of the comicbook hero but it's a fair trade for his knowingly naive performance. This is Beatty's show, his idea, he sets the tone for everyone else to follow, and does it better than all of them. Tracy is perfectly 2.5D - pure in his heroism, yet with enough believable emotion for the audience to care about him. It's his simple, unspoken affection for Tess Trueheart and the Kid that make up for the lack of any real details about his life - this guy is a hardhitting cop, and he's working on a family. That's all you need.

Chief villain Big Boy Caprice is Al Pacino, who steals the show from Beatty - and then has it stolen from him by the visuals. This is almost a definitive superstar-as-supervillain performance; pure, over-the-top, tongue-in-cheek charisma. Dick Tracy isn't a comedy but to Pacino it is, blasting out his lines like a tommy gun. Though this is perhaps Pacino's least dramatic role, on occasion he reminds the viewer just how talented he is; witness his reaction to finding his office bugged, for instance, or his early send-off to a gangland rival ("You need a bath").

Madonna, as the gangster's moll Breathless Mahoney, attempts to channel Marilyn Monroe and suceeds to some extent; while a lot of her screen time comes down to performing showgirl numbers, it's one of her most effective movie roles. This is not a subtle character, and Madonna is not a subtle woman. Her scenes with Beatty have a sexual tension she supplies almost single-handedly, while he gazes on with an unreadable expression.

Charlie Korsmo does well-enough as the Kid, but his character arc reaches it's end half way through the film. If the script had been paced a little better, the Kid's decision to go with Tracy and the police should have been at the climax, thus becoming Tracy's wild card as he confronts both Caprice and the face-less killer.

As for the action......what action? Apart from an explosive shoot-out before the finale, there are no real set-pieces. Tracy downs numerous thugs with a single blow, and tougher ones get his trademark left-right-left-right onslaught. Beatty shoots the fighting well, staging some true comicbook-style shots - there is simply not enough of it.

Nor is there enough suspense. The one standout sequence sees Tracy trapped in a cellar by the villains as a steam boiler is about to explode. This is genuinely exciting, and it seems surely Tracy won't escape in time....all of which is let down somewhat by pathetic, unsatisfying, dusty explosion. Given the rest of the movie goes to such extremes, it's truly odd that it isn't a huge, defeaning blast.

Danny Elfman has scored a ridiculous ammount of comicbook movies now, and Dick Tracy was only one of three (!) he did in 1990; the other being The Flash TV movie and Sam Raimi's Darkman. It's Dick Tracy that sounds like his classic Batman the most however, albeit more upbeat and irreverent. Many cues are almost indistinguishable between the two movies.

It's an extremely likeable film, but in the end it's sheer simplicity works against it. It's lovely in ten minute bursts, but watching Dick Tracy in it's entirety - even then only ninety minutes - becomes almost a chore. It's so light, you'll forget you've watched it a few minutes later.

One could easily argue that Dick Tracy's focus on visual appeal over storyline is no greater than that of Tim Burton's Batman (1989). But Batman had other, equally strong assets - the characterisation of it's hero and villain, the mesmerising atmosphere - while Dick Tracy has neither. Beatty is solid, Pacino is amusing, but they're both playing caracatures. And if you don't happen to like primary coloured 30's fashion and archetecture, you may as well not even bother watching the film.

Nonetheless, this remains a movie made to be seen on the big screen, and on the big screen it suceeds as it intends to. Sweet, brightly coloured and light, Dick Tracy isn't cinematic popcorn, it's candy.

Rated/10: 7.0

 

[SurfDUI]

I thought the guy who voiced 'Roger Rabbit' in 'Who framed' played Flatop...might not, but he was my favortie.

Many films have been influenced by Dick Tracy's stylistic approach,

I remember at the time EVERy superhero property more or less had some kind of visual tie to the 30's or 40's. The Phantom, The Shadow, Rocketeer to a lesster extent-baring a couple of these actually were period films, and then you had the FLASH t.v. show, which was supposedly set in modern day 90's, but had that old look w/ the cars and dialoge. Ahhh the 90's.

Madonna was hott as hell then. One of the few remaining VHS tapes i've still held onto.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

I thought the guy who voiced 'Roger Rabbit' in 'Who framed' played Flatop...might not, but he was my favortie.



I remember at the time EVERy superhero property more or less had some kind of visual tie to the 30's or 40's. The Phantom, The Shadow, Rocketeer to a lesster extent-baring a couple of these actually were period films, and then you had the FLASH t.v. show, which was supposedly set in modern day 90's, but had that old look w/ the cars and dialoge. Ahhh the 90's.

Madonna was hott as hell then. One of the few remaining VHS tapes i've still held onto.

And most of the time, the retro-look never appealed - you can understand why kids into 90's anti-heroes were not intrested in square-jawed crusaders. The Phantom, the Shadow and the Rocketeer were all flops (though the latter, twenty years later, helped Joe Johnson get the Captain America chair).

 

[Dr.Dude]

I do think the visual style of the movie alone makes it worth seeing. I don't know if I'd necessarily want to own it, because as you say, watching the whole thing straight through is a bit draining by the end of it - but it's definitely worth seeing and looking back on every now and again, especially if the style is one that the viewer is fond of.

 

[kkinelle]

"It's an extremely likeable film, but in the end it's sheer simplicity works against it. It's lovely in ten minute bursts".I agree with this statement.
___________
Outdoor Equipment

 

[Catman]

It's lovely in ten minute bursts, but watching Dick Tracy in it's entirety - even then only ninety minutes - becomes almost a chore.

I agree with this statement.

I think I've only seen this movie once from beginning to end. And it was in 1990. lol. But, I gotta admit, those ten minute burts are a lot of fun. There's certain scenes that I love watching when the movie is on TV. The first is the opening. The credits, the opening shootout, the gag with Tracy at the opera. Tracy chasing the Kid through the train tracks and then beating up his dad (?). Then there's the scene with Mumbles (Dustin Hoffman). I don't know why, but I love that scene. The crime spree montage is awesome. And the ending was cool as well. Plus, anything with Madonna was good too. She was hot. What can I say? But if I had to choose one scene as the best it would be:

[YT]UhgiyDTp96Y[/YT]

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Azumi (2003)

It would be easy to call this the film Kill Bill (2003) wanted to be. That's not exactly accurate though. Whilst Azumi is closer to the crazy, old-style bloody martial arts mayhem that Tarrantino tried to emulate, it's very different in other ways. It's the story of a band of teenage assassins who must kill a series of warlords who threaten the peace of the country around 1600. The warlords send their own assassins after the assassins, and by the climax, nearly every single character is dead. This is the typical samurai story, warriors who are forced to go on fighting even though they don't want to. Azumi tells it in the most straight-forward, basic way possible.

The only difference is, these are teenagers. If you can imagine the BBC producing a six episode kung fu TV series in the 1970's, with a Japanese cast and crew, and then editing it into a movie, you can imagine Azumi. It's episodic. It's very cheap looking, shot mainly on location in woods and fields. The costumes are very over-the-top (to be expected as Azumi is based on a comic strip), yet in most cases very badly constructed. A lot of the costumes look amateur. The acting, however, is fine.

But this is an action movie first and foremost. There is a lot of action, and it's all swordplay. Sadly not sword fighting, but sword play. The difference? Sword fighting is when swords clash and the opponents have a proper battle. Azumi has endless scenes of the heroes chopping down wave after wave of bad guys, without having to even block or parry once. Despite some imaginative shots, this is unavoidably repetitive. And there is virtually no threat to our heroine whatsoever until the climax, and even that is disappointing. After you've seen Azumi slice up an entire village full of thugs (according to the DVD, 200 men!), one more bad guy, no matter how good, is never going to be pose much of a threat. The lack of excitement is not helped by dull rock music that could have been taken from a 1996 Sega Saturn game.

Our heroine, Azumi, is played by the jaw-droppingly cute 18-year old pop star Aya Ueto. As unlikely as it seems, she makes a pretty convincing sword-swinging killer, and has the 'sad warrior' samurai movie expression down perfectly. When she's cloaked in her jet black cape, she makes quite a fetching heroine. The rest of the cast is barely worth mentioning. All are passable, but none stand out in any way. There are only two faces on display here; brooding (after you've killed) and extreme pain (as you're being killed).

Azumi is entertaining in a low-key way, but never amounts to anything. The title character drifts through the movie with the bare minimum of development. Although she denies fate for a time and gives up the warrior life, she can't escape it for ever, and just like Clark Kent and Peter Parker in their movies, she's needed to be a hero. She ditches her combat garb and dresses in a pink komono, but the appeal of the sword is too strong. Finally she gives in and grasps it, pulling a katana from the scabard of a thug who is about to rape her. "I have no choice," she mutters, "I am forced to kill." Once Azumi accepts her destiny, Ueto thankfully adds some steel and melancholy wisdom to the character.

None of the battles have any build up, and the endless hack-and-slash gets dull after a while. There are some basic attempts to add personalities to the villains, but there is little time for that between the blood-letting. It's proberbaly most palatable in thirty second bursts; watch one of the trailers for the movie and you'll see everything it has to offer.

Another problem is, despite the heavy war and death vibes, this movie is camp-all-day. The sheer volume of men in ludicrous costumes with bizarre haircuts, many of who make silly noises, ruins any chance the film has of being taken at anything beyond face value. The ultimate villain (and there are a number) is as feminine as can be, in a white dress, very long hair and pink eye-shadow. He throws roses to his intended victims and shrieks with girlish excitement as he slashes them up. He has a vague air of menace, but mostly resembles Cesar Romero's Joker as a 16th century Japanese asassain. Only not as good. And no maustache.

There are so many very similar, and better, films out there. Bichunmoo (2000) is what Azumi would be like with real story, real emotion, real characters and stunning visuals. Princess Blade (2001) is almost Azumi set in the future, as it also stars a Japanese pop princess as a sword-wielding assassin. But Princess Blade has intense, vicious action - with clashing swords and bad guys who don't get slashed down immediately. If you want to look outside movies based on comicbooks, Seven Samurai (1954) is considered one of the best movies of all time, and Tom Cruise's The Last Samurai (2003) is definetly worthwile viewing.

Azumi isn't great, but it had the potential to be more than a basic, cheap, hack-and-slash bloodbath. As with so many movies like this, it's greatest flaw is the contradiction at it's heart; violence ruins lives, it tells us, until the next fight scene, in which violence is cool.

It contains some undeniably imaginative elements, but remains a missed opportunity. It does however break the record for most stupid haircuts in one movie.


Bichunmoo (2000)

AN ACTION EPIC, almost soap-operatic in it's continually unravelling plot, Bichunmoo is wuxia via manga. It's visceral, it's moving, and it tugs on the heartstrings. It's downfall is an over-enthusiastic approach to the action sequences, taking Hollywood's current rapid-cut obsession to dizzying extremes. Bichunmoo also packs enough storyline for an entire trilogy into a two hour running time, so the viewer must be prepared for both dense plotting and occasionally confusing narrative leaps.

This millenial sword-swinging adventure chronicles the life of Yu Jinha, a down trodden peasant in 14th century Yuan Dynasty China. Jinha falls in love with Sullie, daughter of ruthless Mongol General Taruga. Turuga is determined Sullie never see Jinha again, instead she should marry Namgung Junkwang, son of a Han lord, to bring about an alliance between the two. Jungwang himself immedietly falls for Sullie, despite her rejection of his advances.

Jinha and Junkwang, unaware of whom the other is, make friends whilst fighting off a band of marauders. Jinha finds Sullie again and they attempt to flee from Taruga's clutches. However, they are intercepted by Taruga, a horde of Mongol soldiers......and a now-knowing Junkwang. Junkwang demands Jinha fight him for Sullie's hand, although the lady has made her decision.

Jinha has also become aware of his family's true history - once the true power of the region, they were all slaughtered under orders from Taruga. As the lone survivor of his family, with his true love about to be taken from him, his only friend attempting to kill him, and his parent's killer about to complete the job, Jinha has one ace up his sleeve; he is the single practitioner of Bichun Shin Gi, a mysterious, kinetic sword fighting art - which everybody else craves to learn the secrets of.

And that's barely the beginning of the movie...!

To continue would be to spoil the film's abundant surprises and shocks; suffice to say, Jinha becomes a powerful hero and fights to regain the honor of his family. In his quest he recieves aid from different sources, but not all of them are trustworthy, plotting to use Jinha's powers to their own sinister ends. The love triangle is continually shifting in it's status quo, the end result being both tragic and uplifting. Throw into this a band of hyper-cool ninjas (the Ten Flying Warriors), Sullie's son and revelations about his true parentage, a female poison expert desperate for Jinha's affections, and Sullie's brother questioning where his loyalties lie.....and you have far too much plot for one movie. On the upside, the pace certainly never lags, character development is continual; the film just keeps hitting the viewer with action and drama until every story thread is tied up.

There is no comedy in Bichunmoo whatsoever. It's undiluted, po-faced melodrama with the two leads forever engulfed in the sadness of their lost dream. After all the climactic battles have finished, the film reaches a conclusion of tragic beauty; breath-takingly sad yet somehow intensely romantic.

The movie is so focused on this doomed love that it would collapse without moving performances from the the leads. Fortunetly, Jinha and Sullie are a magnetic screen couple. They don’t need to talk about their intense affection, it flows off the screen. As does their pain, which reaches overpowering levels as the film reaches a climax. It’s amazing how they spent most of the film kept apart, and yet their love is what Bichunmoo is all about. There are so many films about the joys of being in love; Bichunmoo illustrates how much pain love can cause. Sullie and Jinha absolutely have to be together, and the forces of fate won’t let them. Like many Asian epics, this reaches a fitting ending that has both sadness and joy.

Jinha is, inescapably, a very cool character. Clad in his stunning scarlet robe and cape, his brooding gaze and supernatural sword skills make him an appealing hero. Despite smiling perhaps once or twice in the entire movie, Hyeon-jin Shin wins the audience over with a delicate portrayal of a gentle man in endless emotional turmoil. Jinha is not a talkative man, nor is he keen to show his emotions; but Hyeon-jin shakes as the grief and anger and love build up inside him. Watch as he extends a trembling hand to touch the face of HIS SON,

As he evolves from naive boy to world-weary warrior, we can see his frustration with his world flow into vengeance and finally acceptance. If he has to fight then, finally, he will. Yet no matter what he does or how many enemies he vanquishes, all he truly wants is Sullie and she's forever beyond his grasp.

Hee-syeon Kim is given less to do, but her character evolves in just as satisfying a way as that of Jinha. Her happiness and openess as a young girl immedietly contrasts to that of Jinha. Kim appears as innocence and classical eastern femininity personified; the viewer can instantly understand the male character's desire to protect her. Yet as the story unfolds and she is forced to abandon the one she loves, this fragile beauty adopts elements of Jinha's poker-face seige-mentality. Via machivellian tactics, she is revealed to be one of the most powerful players in the film, with a classic final masterstroke; completely unpredicatable, but making perfect sense in regards to what has gone before. As frail and sorrowful as she may seem, in a world of violent and angry men, her clear-thinking and patience proves far more effective.

There are a lot of supporting characters in the movie, each with their own part to play. Most notable is Jin-yeong Jeong who excels as Namgung Junkwang, an honorable, compassionate, complex man. He finds himself falling for Sullie and understandably can't bare that she does not feel the same way. Jungwang should, and would, be Jinha's greatest ally, but their love for the same woman can ultimately only end with swords drawn. For Junkwang, knowing what is right, and knowing what his heart desires, force him into continuous conflict with himself.

One obvious point of contention with Bichunmoo is that the numerous sword fights are more about combatatants spinning in mid-air than clashing blades. Combined with whirling, dizzyingly fast camera work, it's very hard for the viewer to keep up. In some instances, notably the opening of Jinha's face-off with Namgung Junkwang, it verges on the impossible.

Ultimately this is manga sword fighting, however, and readers of Japanese comics will be aware that they have never been about elegantly choreographed duels; rather they show super-powered swordmen spinning through the air and unleashing all manner of devastating and spectacular attacks, usually involving blasts of magical energy. The Bichunmoo comics by Kim Hye-rin are very difficult to obtain in the west, but pick up a copy of Saint Legend or Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre and you'll witness the style of action this movie attempts to being to life. No excuse for confusing fight scenes, but it certainly helps to understand the thinking behind them.

On the positive side, the action scenes all progress the storyline effectively enough. None of them are wasted or thrown in just for action's sake. Each duel is also full of emotion on the part of Jinha - so often he finds himself the target of an attack, and though he doesn't want to fight, fate compells him to draw his blade again and again. His final duel with Junkwang is heart-breaking.

It's hard to talk about the Ten Flying Warriors without using the word 'cool'. Or 'Flying'. Under the command of Jinha, they appear out of nowhere, fly towards their enemies and take out the trash in an orgy of spectacular sword swinging. Dressed all in black with big black coolie hats, they say little and do nothing except finding ass and kicking it. They hide underwater. They run across rooftops. And they chop arrows in half. These guys are the definition of ‘cool’. Unfortunetly several scenes are cut explaining exactly who these guys are, and what they are doing - but they are unstoppable badasses.

Visually, this is a lovely movie. It's a true widescreen epic, with sprawling battles, costumes of all colours and lavish scenery stretching right across the screen and into the distance. It is, like all movies, best appreciated at the cinema, and would lose so much through pan-and-scan to be almost pointless.

When Jinha becomes Jahalang he adopts, as mentioned, an awesome crimson costume, and a wide black coolie hat that shades his eyes in shadow. Along with a MOUTH MASk, he appears as a Korean version of the Shadow. There are numerous cool shots of the Ten Flying Warriors mysteriously perched on rooftops before leaping away into the night. Sullie engages in a geisha dance that compares to that in House of Flying Daggers (2004).

A shot towards the end shows Jinha walking through a forest clearing, scattered with the corpses of mercenaries he has just killed. It's like a graveyard, but with the dead above ground. The highlight is Jinha's night time confontation with Targuga on a fog shrouded bridge, their fight becoming a whirlwind of flashing blades and leaves. Truly, a film which requires a number of viewings to appreciate the visuals, let alone the storyline.

The special effects are admirably low-key. The only glimpse of CGI is used for Jinha’s devastating energy waves. The one unconvincing effect is a silly animatronic dummy which our hero beheads, but the rest of the film is a uniformally effective series of exploding torsos and flying swordsmen.

As an action movie, Bichunmoo is never adrenalin-pumping but frequently spectacular. As wuxia it really suceeds, deftly intwining bitter romance and historical violence. It's Hero (2002) with more emphasis on dynamic spectacle and less on poetic visuals and lyricism. It's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) via blazing 1960's Marvel comics. After watching, you may not be reaching for the Yellow Pages to find a sword fighting class, but you may very well be reaching for the tissues.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Captain America (1990)

AT LAST A motion picture which addresses the eternal question: if one is trapped in suspended animation for fifty years, is it okay upon leaving to forget your old, now aging girlfriend and take up with her daughter? The answer's yes, according to 1991's Captain America, a by-the-numbers superhero flick with just enough solid action to scrape by.

The American comicbook industry was at it's highest peak during World War II, when the simplistic heroics of Superman and Captain Marvel buyoed troops and taught kids the evils of racketeering and wife-beating. When the Nazis launched their offensive across Europe, Timely Comics creators Joe Simon and Jack Kirby were given a genuine villain for the forces of good to fight against; now they just needed a hero. So they took Old Glory, made it into human form, and created Captain America.

Of course, post-World War II, Cap lost his relevence. What was the point of a superhero whose war had been won? It was only in the 1960's that Stan Lee (of course) realised that itself was a hook, having Cap frozen in time and re-awaking into the sixties. Now the previously perfect Cap would face problems he couldn't fight by hurling his shield. What would a man of old-fashioned morals do in the political and social upheval of the 1960's?

This movie version wisely uses the man-out-of-time idea as it's central premise, merely altering Cap's journey from the 40's to the 90's instead. Lame soldier Steve Rogers volunteers for an experiment to create the US army's first super soldier ("He won't be Superman," notes the General) - and it's last. He is sent into Germany to battle the Red Skull, grotesque crimson personification of Nazi evil (changed to Italian here for still unknown reasons). The Skull takes him down with ease and straps him to a missile launched at the White House. Cap just manages to knock it off course, but ends up in the Antarctic, where he remains frozen for decades. He is re-awakened during the late eighties, to discover that his former sweetheart Bernice is now an old lady, and that the Red Skull survives and is plotting against the US President. Luckily he still has his powers, his costume, his shield and the help of Bernice's now adult daughter Sharon.

A confused movie to be sure, Captain America is part superhero adventure and part low-key european tourist board advertisment. After the obligatory superhero origin of the first act, we are treated to some dull exposition updating the story from the second world war to the present day. Then the film becomes something of an 80's James Bond movie, with our hero and damsel-in-distress being chased around scenic Italian locations by thugs with expensive suits and motorbikes. While it's not the worst material ever filmed, it's a strange diversion for a supehero movie, and it's certainly no For Your Eyes Only (1981). In fact it reminds one of Condorman (1981).

The script makes few changes to the Captain America mythos portrayed in comicbooks since 1941. The main alteration is an intresting one; the scientist who turns weakling Steve Rogers into mighty Captain America did the same work for the Nazis previously, and defected when she realised they were turning a young boy into the Red Skull. She thanks Rogers for allowing her to correct her mistake.

This is an effective streamlining of events, making the creation of Cap and the Skull more believable . The audience does not have to suspend disbelief for two superhumans origins, ala Spider-Man (2002), only one, used on two people. It also adds poignancy and emotion to an otherwise routine origin. We can see Cap and the Skull as brothers (the Skull actually calls them as such) and the doctor as their mother. There is great dramatic irony in the two - one wrapped in the red, white and blue, the other the personification of Nazi evil - being brothers. This element is not overplayed, simply used to enhance the narrative.

Director Albert Pyun uses an energetic yet detached and realistic style, similar to that of 007 director John Glen. Glen directed all the 1980's Bond movies including Octopussy (1983) and The Living Daylights (1987). Pyun seems disintrested in any scenes without action, and as a result the movie is unfocussed, drowsy and almost dreamlike in quality. In many shots it's almost unclear what the viewer's attention is supposed to be upon - surely not the incredibly basic character interactions? Surprisingly the patriotic angle is not overplayed. America during WWII is presented in cliched apple pie style, with good-ole-boy maustachioed army general. Cap is, of course, an action hero wrapped in Old Glory - and Pyun knows that is enough.

Kudos goes for the handling of the Red Skull. This may very well be the first superhero movie to portray a supervillain as tragic and engage the audiences sympathies. This leads to a effectively melancholy climax as the Skull plays his piano for the last time, reminding the viewer that he was once simply an innocent young boy.

The action sequences of Captain America somehow contain the problems of both Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990) and Batman Begins (2005); many of them are simply too dark, and many of them are also cut too fast. The end result is numerous rapid shots in which the viewer can make out something in perhaps every third one. Cap's opening attack on the Red Skull's base in a perfect example; the audience simply cannot see where our hero is in relation to the villains, or where exactly the villains are. Then Cap blows up a truck - where did the truck come from? And so on. This approach spoils a similar brawl in an abandoned underground base. The film attempts tension by showing characters sneaking around in the dark. Problem is the audience doesn't know which characters they are, or how close they are to each other, until a punch is thrown.

However, it's not all bad. The saving grace of Captain America is the action sequences. You will get the rare chance of seeing a grown man throw a table at two women. Cap's (better lighted) opening battle with the Red Skull captures the epic drama of such an iconic confrontation, there's genuine excitement as they clash. Cap hurls his shield at the Skull, who catches it - uh oh - and hurls in into the concrete. Then the Skull leaps from the walkway he's poised on and mocks his foe as the red, white and blue hero rushes towards him. Even though the Skull seems a little too keen on the knee -to-the-stomach movie, it's a bruising smackdown and even the shot of Skull throwing Cap through the air works. Not only is this the best sequence in the film by a wide margin, it's amongst the most atmospheric in any comicbook adaption. It achieves a balance so many films of the genre fail at - the villain is a genuine threat to the hero, is better than him - but not so much better that they're not well-matched.

The two clash again during the finale, and throw more punches than the entire Rocky saga. There's a sense that Cap, still in his prime, fighting the Skull, now middle-aged, is less than fair - but who cares? And let's not forget, it's just good to see the superhero and supervillain having a prolonged battle. The rapid editing suddenly becomes very effective in two sequences of the Skull blasting machine gun fire at Cap, as shots of Cap racing to grab his shield for protection and the Skull letting loose are cut so far they are almost merged together. It's short, creative moments like this that elevate Captain America beyond it's reputation.

One of the major reasons for Captain America's obscurity is the lack of stars. The most well-known actor amongst the cast would be Ronny Cox, the evil head of OCP in RoboCop (1987). Then we have Ned Beatty, Otis from Superman (1978). Darren McGavin played the title role in X-Files-inspiring cult 70's TV show Kolchak: the Night Stalker. SKim Gillingham has been seen in both Friends and Seinfeld. Bill Mumy is mainly known for the sci-fi TV series' Lost in Space and Bayblon 5, and has also worked on The Flash, Superboy, Ultraman (!) and Batman: the Animated Series.

Dolph Lundgren, who had already played the Punisher, was reportedly lined up for the role of Captain America. He had everything except his nationality - Swedish - going for him. Ultimately, the role was given to Matt Salinger. To his credit, Salinger genuinely does seem to have stepped out of the 1940's, and maintains a boyish sense of wonder and quiet awe at everything that happens. However, this has to be put aside when playing a superhero, and especially a gung-ho, commanding superhero such as Captain America, and while effective enough, Salinger never quite convinces as the shield-slinger. He effectively gains the audiences sympathy but never has the presence required. All in all, this is a below average Captain America. You feel inclined to agree with the Red Skull when he shouts insults at him.

To phrase it differently, the manner in which Salinger plays Cap he does very well, he just chose the wrong manner.

The Skull however is a standout performance. A truly effective supervillain, he is both convincingly diabolical and believably human. Scott Paulin effortlessly commands every scene he appears in, with a majesty that would have done well to study as Doctor Doom.

It's hard to dislike Captain America. It's fuzzy, low-key and unfocused, the action scenes are sometimes impossible to understand, most of the the cast could have been people from the street, and the title character appears too little. But it has heart, it has costumes taken straight from the comicbooks, it has two great clashes between Cap and the Skull, and it has a commanding villain in Scott Paulin. The script is decent enough that a good director could have made a good film.

Although considered by many to be amongst the very worst the genre has to offer, it's certainly superior to the likes of Generation X (1996), The Guyver (1991), and Spawn (1997) - y'know, the really crap ones. Captain America does atleast capture a sliver of the mood of the 1960's Marvel comicbooks, the 'adventure first, melodrama second, logic a distant third' approach of Stan Lee's work.

Is it good? No. Is it fun? Occasionally. Imagine having a dream about the star-spangled shield-slinger, fighting low-key thugs in sunny Italy. And then waking up and only remembering vague images. That's the effect of Captain America.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Fantastic Four (2005)

In the pantheon of comicbook superheroes, the Fantastic Four are amongst the best-loved and highly regarded - both in the context of their stories and by fans and creators in the real world. Indeed, the Fantastic Four changed the genre forever. It's difficult to imagine superhero comics without them, such has been their impact. Suffice to say, they were the first superheroes the reader could relate to. Created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and originally published in 1961, Fantastic Four #1 introduced a quartet of ordinary (for a comicbook) people who had faults, loved each other, argued, fell out, became annoyed, sad, talked too much.....and so on and so forth. For readers used to the perfect commanding figures that were Batman and Superman of that era, it was stunning.

This lead to Lee and Kirby creating more sympathetic superheroes including the Uncanny X-Men and the Incredible Hulk, although the pinnacle, the Amazing Spider-Man, was not worked on by Steve Ditko rather than Kirby. Lee called the approach 'superheroes with super problems', critics called it a superhero soap opera, and just about every mainstream comicbook since has adopted this style. Possibly the most notable is The Man of Steel mini series, in which writer/artist John Byrne gives Superman a complete Marvel workover, still debated to this day.

Giving the readers characters they could identify with was only half the appeal of the Fantastic Four. The sheer creativity and imagination grew over every issue. The supervillains became more and more outrageous, but they were small fry; the FF travelled through galaxies and dimensions jaw-droppingly huge and different, and encountered beings and concepts of mind-boggling power and scope. Lee and Kirby were stretching the imagination as far as it could go. The combination of heroes you could relate to experiencing adventures you could never imagine makes their FF stories absolute classics, unmatched to this day.

As such, FF is perfect animation material but a trickier prospect for movies. There have been several cartoon series over the years, but the only previous movie is the notorious 1994 Roger Corman version. The true budget is debated, somewhere between one and four million dollars - but it's considered an extremely cheap-looking, poorly produced piece of trash. It never saw official release in theatres or on video, and Marvel head honcho Avi Arad alledgedly burned the negatives personally. Some copies survived, however, and make the rounds at conventions to this day.

Post-Spider-Man (2002), a new FF movie was never going to be anything but a big-budget, high-profile, full-scale box office assault. And that's precisely what Tim Story's movie is. Unfortunetly it misses it's sky high potential by a long way. Consider a Spielberg-esque movie, an sci-fi action adventure with a family of superheroes on a thrill-ride of amazing sights and epic villains. Consider Back to the Future (1985), Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) and Star Wars (1977) rolled into one.

Fantastic Four is, ultimately, a shallow and obvious attempt to recreate the success of 2002's Spider-Man. The emphasis on fun above all-else, the flat, bright colour palatte, the 'man-on-the-street' characters, the Reed-Sue romance....the blueprint is all too clear. As is the storyline's focus on the heroes discovering their powers, rather than using them to combat evil. The result being villain Doctor Doom becoming a subplot in himself, only taking centre-stage at the climax for the unavoidable showdown. Fantastic Four is a popcorn movie in the purest sense, designed within an inch of it's life to appeal to all ages with a calculated mixture of comedy and adventure - but never going far enough to be a comedy or an action movie.

It has a cast you will be familiar with, rather than actual movie stars. But then, in today's Hollywood, the star name has less drawing power than the project title - a situation pioneered by 1989's Batman. True, the film features Kim Basinger and Jack Nicholson at the peak of their fame, but the bat logo itself was all that was needed to sell the picture. Again with X-Men (2000) and Spider-Man, movie stars were simply not required (Fox actually said no to the casting of Mel Gibson as Wolverine as his paycheck would have been huge). This has continued with The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003) and the Harry Potter series (2001 onwards), and now with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) - well, did anyone even ask or care who was cast?

Fantastic Four's most publicized star at the time of making is babe de jour Jessica Alba.
Alba's casting boils down to drawing in both the young males and the teenage girl audience. Alba could easily play a teen herself, and engages she in a by-the-numbers romance with Gruffud so simplistic even the youngest viewer will be unconvinced. That aside, she forfills the obligations of female in a major action movie, and little else. There's even an embarassingly forced scene where she has to strip naked in public (on the Brooklyn Bridge, no less) - because for some reason she can't make her clothes invisible. Except her superhero costume that is, and the first time she wears that, she's showing off more cleavage than she was on the bridge.

Ioan Gruffudd, who played Lancelot in 2004's King Arthur, is again, a somewhat odd choice in his role of Mr Fantastic. Dull yet noble he can play with his (and the audiences') eyes closed, but as a workaholic genius-turned-superhero, he's just too nice.

Most successful amongst the cast is Chris Evans as the Human Torch, Johnny Storm, and soon to be Captain America. This again proves that regardless of whether you take a role seriously or not, if you are fun to watch, audiences enjoy it.

Michael Chiklis plays the Thing about as well as anybody could in such a costume. Most of the time it's bordering on pantomime, but then, the Thing is not a subtle character anyway.

Doctor Doom is often called the greatest comicbook supervillain ever (discounting the Joker, who lacks any super powers), but this movie will have you asking why. A regal, sympathetic, awe-inspiring force of nature in the funny pages, Doom is reduced here to a mere redux of the movie Green Goblin. A millionaire businessman scientist caught in an experiment gone wrong, he dons a metal mask and sets out to kill his enemies with his new-found powers. And little else. Even Doom's booming, metallic voice, so well executed in cartoons and video games such as 1997's Marvel Superheroes, is ignored.

Doctor Doom's costume is the only element of the character that survives the transistion from page to screen. His flowing green cape perhaps wisely becomes a full-length coat, but that aside it's very faithful and effective. The fully-armoured Doom is certainly the greatest visual in the movie; it's a shame his character doesn't match up.

In Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's landmark 60's comics, Doom became ruler of the fictional European county of Latveria, and therefore gained diplomatic immunity. He was also a genius on the same level as Reed, speaks in third person and lives in a huge medieval castle. This is a man not just evil for evil's sake, but driven by incredible will to become the greatest at all things, and the ruler of all. Doom is a king amongst supervillains. He is an iconic, much-loved character, one of Lee and Kirby's greatest triumphs.

This is a villain that inspired George Lucas to create Darth Vader. Marvel, for goodness' sake try harder in the sequel. His costume is the only element of the character that survives the transistion.

Doctor Doom is the biggest flaw in the movie. The second is the bemusing lack of action. There are only two action set-pieces in Fantastic Four, and the only fight scenes are at the climax. The space-based opening is more a suspense sequence than an action one, and several CGI and stunt sequences are used as spectacular filler around the two main events. Johnny engages in both snowboarding and dirt bike jumping. Both work effectly to make Johnny appeal to today's audience, but the budget for both sequences would be better spent on another action set-piece.

Things pick up for the finale, which - atlast - contains some true superhero action. A superpowered brawl between Dr Doom and the Thing threatens to reach the heights of Superman II (1980) before the other Fantastic three turn in into a CGI-fest. At the top of Doom's skyscraper, he throws himself at the Thing, taking them both through a window and crashing down through a skylight far below, and to the bottom of a swimming pool! The floor of the pool collapses, and the water blasts them out another window, finally falling through a garbage truck on the street below. The truck shakes as the two pound each other inside - then finally the Thing blasts out, flies thirty feet and smashes into the road.

This perfect sequence is the highlight of the entire movie, a imaginative super-powered brawl of the type of the type Jack Kirby excelled at. Indeed, Kirby once drew a lengthy, jaw-dropping battle between the Thing and the Incredible Hulk - but don't expect to see that in a movie. One can only wait for this movie's sequel, and hope there more action and that it is of the quality of the Thing/Doom showdown.

The costume department have done well in most instances. The FF costumes are cool dark blue and suitably high-tech, a perfect translation from the comicbooks. As noted, Doctor Doom looks great for his meagre screen time. The biggest flaw is unfortunetly the most obvious costume, that of the Thing. Although thankfully CGI was never on the cards due to the movie's budget, the Thing costume looks like a Thing costume. Never does it look like solid rock, never does it look heavy, never does it look like anything but a man in a suit. On the plus side, it allows Michael Chiklis a lot of flexibility and his facial expressions are clearly visible.

Despite all it's flaws, Fantastic Four simply works. Not in a huge way - it's no thrill-ride and it's not fantastic - but through the interaction of several appealing characters and a decently paced, amusing narrative. Tim Story and co have nailed down exactly half of what makes the Fantastic Four such a great comicbook; the relationships between fun yet identifiable characters. The other half is the sense of pure wonder and sci-fi granduer. Whether a brand new FF movie will show this is debatable; hopefully the producers will realise the FF are more than just superheroes, they are explorers and adventurers.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

The Phantom (1996)

As an illustration of the way fiction is cyclical, The Phantom is perfect. The 1930's comic strip served as inspiration for Bob Kane in producing Batman (as did The Shadow). Sixty years later, the Batman movies served as inspiration for a major Phantom motion picture (and a Shadow one).

Ever since Spielberg and Lucas' Raiders of the Lost Ark thrilled audiences in 1981, Hollywood has been trying to recreate the breathless, serial-adventure tone of the Indiana Jones movies. Romancing the Stone (1984), The Jewel of the Nile (1985), King Soloman's Mines (1985), Rocketeer (1991), The Mummy (1999) and The Mummy Returns (2001), and so on and so forth. The Phantom comes perhaps the closest of all, written as it is by Jeffrey Boam who penned Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989).

The central quest for a trio of mystical ancient skulls is the driving force behind the film, everything else is secondary. Characters are sketched, relationships are formed more or less immedietly, as such, The Phantom has a forward-momentum that films such as Batman (1989) and Spider-Man (2002) are somewhat lacking (that alone is it's advantage over these two however).

As noted by reviewer Vince Leo, The Phantom is so earnest it's very hard to dislike. It's so nice that somehow all the violence seems minor. This is a movie in which people get eaten by sharks, strangled by a skeleton, get blasted with a cannon ball, skewered to a wall with a spear, disintergrated with a laser beam, and so on. And to clear up what's left of the bad guys, the evil hideout explodes. Add all this to the numerous fist fights, gun fights and sword fights, chases with cars, horses and planes, and several cliffhanger escapes, and you've barely got any time for obligatory romance.

Billy Zane, as the titular hero himself, is the calm centre, the eye of the storm. When the drama should increase with his presence. This is why many find Superman dull; they see him as a fire man who cleans up the damage, or a parent who puts an end to the mayhem. Whereas Batman and Spider-Man add to it. It doesn't help that the script presents the Phantom in such a matter of fact way: he's a nice guy who lives in a cave. The aura of mystery and danger essential to the character - he's called the Phantom, he wears a skull on his belt buckle - is completely absent.

Zane is not so playing the Phantom is he is Superman. When he pulls off his purple mask, and his jet black hair falls into a centre-parting - that's who he is. Whilst he carries twin pistols, he uses them simply to shoot the guns from his attacker's hands.

The costume is pleasing faithful to the comic strip. Yet it's a very silly costume, even by superhero standards. Whilst red (danger and passion) and blue (authority and regality) are obvious choices for superhero costumes, purple is seldom used. What does purple represent to the viewer? Royalty perhaps, as with Tyrian purple. It's also one of the liturgical colours of Christian symbolism. Most likely, in the time of and following The Phantom's cinematic release, it's associated with homosexuals and lesbians. Whatever it stands for, it stands out. Lee Falk originally intended it to be grey (the Gray Ghost a considered name), and it was only in the sunday newspapers that he was first shown in colour - and the colourist chose purple. In different countries the Phantom adopts different colours, red in France, blue in Scandanavia, and brown in New Zealand. Regardless, it's a situation where altering the costume to suit the medium of film would have been wise. A dark grey perhaps, or simply a darker purple.

There are three chief villains in the movie, each with a good reason to be the Phantom's arch enemy. The most prevalent is Xander Drax (Treat Williams), dapper millionaire desperate to get his hands of the Skulls of Tuganda, the ultimate weapon. Second we have Quill (James Remar), an amoral Indiana Jones who believes he has already killed the Phantom, and doesn't seem to realise that maybe he killed someone else wearing the same costume, e.g. Kit Walker's father. Saving the best until last, we have the Great Kabai Sengh, a Asian pirate, and the embodiment of evil the Phantom has sworn to oppose. An evil trio if ever there was one, and on paper perhaps more villainy than even the Phantom can deal with at once. Suffice to say, this isn't Superman II (1980), and only one of the bad guys provides any genuine menace.

Xander Drax simply illustrates how effective Timothy Dalton is, in an almost indentical role, in Rocketeer (1991), even down to the Errol Flynn maustache. Both are seemingly ordinary buisinessmen, too dull for a superhero to combat. But Dalton plays a villain of menace and frightening determination to achieve his goal. Williams seems self-aware, disintrested and, on occasion, almost Ace Ventura-esque. The script is simple; it's up to a strong actor to add the villainy - and Williams just comes off as too likeable. He would have been aided by an alarming twist to add more menace to show his character in a much darker light, such as Dalton being revealed as a Nazi. All the writers can come up with is to have Drax dispatch anyone who opposes him in an elaborately nasty manner. He booby-traps a microscope so some unfortunate gets spikes jabbed in his eyes. He kills someone who doesn't side with him by spearing him to a wall, javelin style. Yet neither the Phantom or Diana Plamer are ever threatened by his perchant for sick Looney Tunes violence. Nor does it inform his character in any way. So it really goes nowhere. It's just not enough.

To look at it from a different prspective, Drax is not really the villain; he's simply a greedy man who partakes a foolish quest for power that mankind should never lay hands on. He's a catalyst, but the ultimate evil of the movie is the wepon itself.

Regardless, the most effective villain of the piece is saved until the climax; Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, always good value, as the great Kabai Sungh. He captures the oh-so-evil style of the 30's serial villains, but does it with a venom-spitting relish that convinces that he does truly hate the Phantom. All the hissable villainy missing from the film he supplies here - if only he had been the main bad guy of the piece. There are three climactic confrontations in the movie, and the battle with Sengh is by far the most climactic. It truly seems a battle that has been set-up over the centuries, thanks to Tagawa's

Although a sequel to the movie never materialized, The Phantom features a man on a quest for the ultimate weapon; the man who killed the Phantom's father; and the man who is the embodiment of evil.

Kristy Swanson and Catherine Zeta Jones are worth talking about in the same sentence, because their characters almost approach an intriguing good girl/bad girl yin-yang. Diana (in a series of light brown and cream costumes) doesn't understand Sala's evil. "Why are you so mean?" she asks her, like an innocent eight year old girl. Sala (dressed in black and occasionally red) is amused by Diana's wholesome goodness, and eventually achieves it herself.

If Zane is the ideal Superman who never was, Swanson is his Lois Lane. If she were playing the Daily Planet's finest here, she would be regarded as the best of them all, just as Alec Baldwin would be the best Bruce Wayne had he been called that in The Shadow (rather than Lamont Cranston).

Swanson's attitude to the Phantom informs the viewer of how to take him; he's ridiculous, but just go with it. Whilst escaping from Quill's men, the Phantom and Diana climb into a sea plane and she asks, "You can fly a plane?" and quickly answers herself with, "Course you can. Why ask?" Diana, in two sentences, goes from being the typical naive damsel in distress to a knowing, willing participant in the action; she seems aware from that point on that she's the heroine in a 30's serial. Of course the Phantom can fly, she realises; he's the hero of the movie.

Instead, it's a forty-five minute episode of, say, a 1980's Tarzan TV series stretched out over feature length.

The Phantom is often grouped alongide Rocketeer and The Shadow (1994) as third in a 1990's renaissence of 1930's proto-superheroics. Like these movies, it avoids pretention and deep characterisation in the pursuit of simple fun. Yet it lacks the perfectly realised innocence, the nostalgic charm of the former. Neither does it have the delicious, mysterious fun of the latter. Ultimately, The Phantom is too straight forward for it's own good. It's equally watchable and forgettable.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Spider-Man 2 (2004)

SEQUELS ARE NOW officially equals; atleast in the superhero genre. Superman II (1980), Batman Returns (1992), Blade II (2002) and X2 (2003) are all in the same league as their predeccesors - Spider-Man 2 (2004) is vastly superior.

The 2002 original saw the wallcrawler's origin; his initial attempted wooing and eventual rejecting of Mary-Jane; and his dubiously PG-rated slugfests with the Green Goblin. It covered the basics, but fell to the biggest pitfall of the genre- attempting to be a comicbook and not a movie based on comicbook stories.Visually it was garish, with bright, flat colours. The dialogue was stilted and unrealistic. The characters and situations were convulted and just didn't ring true. It lacked the realism essential for Peter Parker to exist.

With the sequel, director Sam Raimi and co have addressed every major fault of the original - to a quite stunning degree. Gone are the clashing colours, replaced by the browns and greys of real life. Gone is the basic look of the original, and in comes The Matrix Reloaded/Revolutions cinematographer Bill Pope and genuine widescreen. Gone is the by-the-numbers writing, replaced by one of the best scripts ever written for the genre. And gone is the good but not great CGI, replaced by genuinely state of the art special effects. The casual pacing of the original is also gone, this time it's to-the-point, perfectly weighted and methodical. The movie gets going straight away, and never stops, never has time to stop, for the next two hours.

In the original, Peter Parker just didn't seem worthy of the name. Peter Parker means problems. And Spider-Man 2 is all about Peter's problems. Everything that can go wrong goes wrong in the most wrong way possible. The first hour of the movie stacks problem after problem on Peter's shoulders until it reaches an almost ridiculous creschendo at a high society party. Without revealing anything, Peter has a very bad conversation with Harry, and then Mary-Jane makes an unwelcome announcement - which Peter, only there as a Daily Bugle photographer, has to take pictures of. It's the worst day ever in two minutes, but then we've all had terrible days and this scene simply amplifies it for the big screen. Spider-Man 2 is almost spot-on in recreating Peter Parker's troubled life from the Stan Lee/Steve Ditko issues. The only thing missing is the long, doomy-monologues in Peter's thought-bubbles, and there are scenes which seem perfect for a tortured voice-over by Maguire as he stares dejectedly out of his window.

Another fault of the previous movie was that it was hard to believe Tobey Maguire was actually the guy leaping and swinging around in the Spider-Man costume. We all knew most of the time it was either a stuntman or a computer generated wallcrawler. With the sequel, we see Spidey unmasking (and unmasked) a lot more, and it is indeed Maguire underneath. We see Spidey in action without the mask, and there's Tobey shooting webs and holding up buildings. This is very effective in convincing the audience that Tobey Maguire is Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

Adhering faithfully to the comicbook storylines is something the original movie got right, and the sequel even more so, (with one notable exception explained further on). The two main storylines and several subplots are all taken from the source material. The major ones being Peter's relationship with MJ, the classic will-they-won't-they-will-she (figure it out?) will-he (tell her?). The other is the introduction of Dr Otto Octavius, a great scientist with great plans who becomes the evil Doctor Octopus. These are intwined with Harry Osborn's still evident grief at loosing his father (Norman, who was the Green Goblin) and anger at Spider-Man, whom he believes responsible. Harry is still a friend of Peter's but puts uncomfortable pressure on him for taking photos of Spidey for the Daily Bugle. This is the sort of powerful tension and plotting just not evident in the first movie. These characters are written as real people this time, they are 3D not 2D. They do real things. Aunt May has money problems yet she tries to give cash to Peter on his birthday. Peter turns up late delivering a pizza and has a prolonged encounted with a broom cupboard. These are the sort of embarassing, irritating, unavoidable events that take place in life and befall everyone. One of Steven Spielberg's greatest talents is the way he intergrates these little sequences almost unoticably into his movies. Yet they make all the difference. Suddenly these characters aren't just live-action cartoons anymore.

Amongst the cast, there are four standouts. Tobey Maguire once again embodies Steve Ditko's Peter Parker and improves as Spider-Man. James Franco takes Harry Osborn up to the next level in every way. Alfred Molina is perfect as Doctor Octopus. And of course there's J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson.

Spider-Man 2 is all Tobey Maguire's movie. The other characters are, in the grand scheme of things, just people he meets. Parts of his life. Maguire is in almost every scene, as every storyline is the relationship between him and one of the other characters. And it seems like he never left the set in 2002; he just picks up exactly where he left off. Peter has even less to smile about this time, and he appears on the verge of tears throughout; his confusion and dejection is palpable, and you really feel for him. Many of the painful events are inevitable, you can see them coming yet you hope they never do. Maguire makes the perfect everyman, but with the kind soul that defines the character.

As Spider-Man, Maguire is not as effective, but better than last time. Of course the costume restricts his acting to a large degree, but he's still not given enough dialogue (although more than before). There are a few of Spidey's trademark wisecracks ("Here's your change!" is the favourite), but still not enough. Spidey is again played and portrayed as Peter Parker in a costume, not a character himself. However, there are two standout Spidey scenes. One is pure comedy as he is forced to take an elevator with a regular person; and another when he attempts to save a runaway train, when his panic and heroism are very evident. Whether Maguire is the man to play the wisecracking, confident, verbal Spider-Man is not evident yet, but it is up to Raimi and the writers to get that character on the page for him to try.

Mary-Jane is more effective this time, but yet again she's not a real character; she just represents what Peter desires. Yet again she's just defined by man she's with, or after- Flash, Harry, Spider-Man and (almost) Peter in the first movie, John Jameson and, well, guess who in this one. Jameson, astronaut son of J. Jonah Jameson, represents everything Peter isn't, atleast in MJ's eyes. Mature, reliable, manly, generic. MJ thinks she's growing up by being with a genuine man, while Peter is still a boy. She eventually learns, of course, to follow what her heart really wants, but thankfully not in the sickening, romantic comedy way you might expect. This leads to a welcome variation on the final churchyard scene of the first movie, and an ever more welcome, toned-down version of the same speech. Kirsten Dunst does all she can with the material given to her, but MJ is really a thankless role at present. Suggesting other actresses would make MJ the carefree partygirl she is in the comics is pointless; this is the way she is written and it seems she just won't be that character in Sam Raimi's series.

James Franco has slightly less screentime, but more to do, as Harry Osborn. He's clearly growing into his father's role, both as president of OsCorp and as an obsessive man. Franco, an excellent young actor, achieves this effortlessly. His affection for Peter is always evident, but his determination to avenge his father is always buring inside him. "How is the bug?" he mutters to Peter early on, with a hint of darkness. Events take place later on that make Harry and Peter's relationship even more complicated, and clearly Harry is going to get a lot worse (a lot worse.....) before he gets better. If everything transpires in the following movies as it has in the comicbook, Franco could be superb if he turns to the dark side.

Doctor Octopus has been transfered to screen far better than the Green Goblin. Played by Alfred Molina, with four menacing metal tentacles strapped to his back, he's bad news from the word go. The visual appeal of Doctor Octopus is captured, but not the character potential. The comicbook Doctor Octopus was a nerdy, bitter loner, and his tentacles represented his anger lashing out at everybody who looked down on him, everyone who bullied him. Raimi simply potrays Doc Ock as a nice guy who is possesed by his evil tentacles, simply a variation on Norman Osborn in the first movie. Still, Molina is wonderful in the role (actually two roles), with the intelligence and merciless streak Ock has always had. He has a boyish enthusiasm for science as Octavius, and in the end, a desire to do the right thing no matter what, that makes him the perfect parallel to Peter himself. Not quite up there with Nicholson's Joker or Pfeiffer's Catwoman- he has too little screen time and spends too much of it scheming out loud - but certainly a great cinematic supervillain.

Rosemary Harris has possibly more to do than before as Aunt May. She's actually involved in an action scene, the less said of which the better. Again, she's not the classic May from he comics. She can look after herself, she worries less than Peter does and she gives him (usually embarasing) motivational speeches. Thanks to the writing and Harris' performance, though, she's a believable woman this time.

As JJJ, J.K. Simmons is on fire. He's literally ten times as good as before, with twice as much screentime, and much better, wittier lines. Just seeing him invokes spontaneus laughter. Bill Nunn atlast gets to do something as Robbie Robertson, albeit ammounting to a few knowing glances, but atleast it sets up a subplot for him somewhere down the road. Elizabeth Banks, as Betty Brant, also gives Peter a knowing look, but it's more of a 'potential love intrest perhaps' type, really to make fans smile than anything else. Betty is older than Peter, but always was in the comics. There's also Peter's landlord, the amusing Elya Baskin as Mr Ditkovich, and his sweet daughter, Ursula. Rounding out the cast are two unexpected characters, both of which are great to see and are performed excellently.

Raimi's pulpy sensilibilities and soap-operatics are not unlike those of Spider-Man co-creator, Stan Lee. For this movie he's more focused, he has a lot of story to tell and he does it cleanly and effectively. Clearly the overiding theme of the movie is the hardships of Parker's life, and he does carry this through to almost ridiculous extremes. The influence of The Lord of the Rings can certainly be felt here, as Peter is forced to carry a burden despite the emotional and physical torture it bears him. One sequence sees Spidey almost crucified on the front of a train, and then carried, uncouncious, by the commuters he's just saved. This sequence could only work in the most delicate of hands, and Raimi has never been known for that. Once again the citizens of New York become one character with one embarassing voice. Once again the common man stands up to the supervillain to protect the hero. This situation has worked before, but not in Raimi's hands; in those of Richard Donner, one of the sequences he filmed for Superman II. Nevertheless, Raimi is more restrained here, as he sets his sights on telling the story above everything else. His trademark inventive visuals are restricted to action scenes, and even the customary Bruce Campbell cameo is smarter and funnier than usual. This is certainly the best movie Sam Raimi has made so far.

One notable scene is possibly the quietest. Peter, depressed in his apartment, is visited by Ursula, the landlord's daugter. She has a crush on him, and offers him some chocolate cake and milk. They eat it, apparently silently, in his room, and that's it. If this scene was in the first movie, it would be immedietly out of place. But Spider-Man 2 has matured enough to allow this kind of gentle, thoughful sequence. It's possibly the best scene in the movie, because it's so real.

And finally onto the action. With Doctor Octopus and Spider-Man, there are two genuinely unique combatatants, and their clashes are suitably spectacular. Forget the Rocky-style slugfests of the original, these duels are full of inventive choreography, each man using his skills and powers in imaginative ways to defeat his opponent. These fight scenes are much more expansive and true to the superhero genre, fighting on skyscrapers, on moving trains, in a bank, on the side of a building....it's a joy to see. Superpowered brawls with mass property destruction are a requisite of the genre, and Spider-Man 2 offers the best since The Matrix (1999). This is perhaps a milestone, a break-through point for superhero movies; until now, films have had to hold back on truly epic super-powered action and destruction, due to the shear expense and intense effort needed. This is evident even in even the first Spider-Man entry, which came only two years previously. With this sequel, all the incredible, outrageous mayhem you would find in a comicbook makes it to the screen. There are, finally, no restraints on the superheroics. That's the triumph of Spider-Man 2.

The visual effects are also a step up from the previous movie. The much-loved final sequence of that movie, Spidey swinging around, is bettered here repeatedly, and then completely trouced by a deliberately similar ending scene, this time showing off helicopters as well. There's an occasional bad effects shot - Peter just before his bike is hit by a car, and some digital Doc Ock's which don't really resemble Alfred Molina - but in general the CGI is, if not unoticable, effective. Very few shots take the viewer out of the movie.

Certainly the greatest sequence in the movie is a wonderful example of the possibilities of CGI. A ten second shot of Spidey swinging through New York turns into a reflection in the glasses of Doctor Octopus. As the camera pulls away from Ock we find he is perched at the top of a gigantic clock tower, which he turns and climbs even higher, just as Spidey swings into the frame. Although it's the work of numerous graphics combined, it's one long, cool, unbroken shot.

There are a few notable problems, which are unfortunetly very obvious. Aunt May has an embarassing speech to Peter about heroes, which is so transparent she may as well look at the camera and say, "Peter should be Spider-Man.". It's totally uncalled for, both for the audience and in the context of the scene. A similar sequence has Peter meeting a character from the previous movie, apparently in a heavenly car, but somehow it works. To justify this speech, Aunt May is also awkwardly thrown into an action scene beforehand, which involves several painful sequences. Aunt May hanging from a skyscraper by her umbrella. Aunt May saving Spidey from Doctor Octopus. Raimi loves people power. Also uncalled for is Jonah's sudden admittance that Spidey is a hero - and then seconds later, he changes his mind again. This stuff may happen in the very silliest, earliest comics but it doesn't work here.

The confrontation near the end between Spider-Man and Harry could have been part of a double-climax, but it's so rushed that any tension is wasted. And Raimi's insistance that, 'Doctor Octopus' is a crap name - he even has JJJ describe it as such - is just odd. In all publicity and merchendising, and the credits, the character is known as Doc Ock. The character is nothing without the name. He has eight arms, he has metal tentacles. He's a doctor. Doctor Octopus. Surely Stan Lee came up with the name first, anyway. And while we're on the subject, why was the movie not called The Amazing Spider-Man or Web of Spider-Man? Even Spider-Man Returns would be better. Story wise, Spider-Man Part 2 is more accurate, but really Spider-Man Done Properly is the perfect description.

However, any negative effect is outweighed by such positive, effective movie-making. Raimi always said he wanted to tell more of the story rather than show more action, and he kept to his word. There may be less action here than in the first movie - certainly less emphasis on it. But whereas the original movie began to lag inbetween the action, Spidey 2 just keeps offering more drama and emotion, and more pathos. Spidey doesn't ultimately defeat Doctor Octopus in battle, but in the end he doesn't need to. This is the message of the movie - it's the effort that counts. Keep struggling, no matter what, and in the end you'll get your reward. It

Spider-Man 2 nails the life of Peter Parker; it's a thrilling actioner; has many great performances; . What it doesn't do is fully capture the character of Mary-Jane, Aunt May or Spider-Man himself. This is the most noticable thing about Raimi's version of the mythos, that he sees Peter Parker as the main character and Spider-Man just a costume that he uses to disguise himself. Raimi looked to be the wrong choice after the first movie, but now, armed with a terrific script, he's proved himself worthy of being Spider-Man's director. With Spider-Man 2 he's crafted the finest effort so far in the Marvel Age of Movies, the best comicbook movie since The Crow (1994).

Many movie sequels offer exactly the same as before; Spidey's second cinematic outing, like those of Superman, Batman and the X-Men, offers something new. Perhaps that's why comicbook movie sequels can be so good.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Superman III (1983)


UNDERATED, UNAPPRECIATED, OVERLOOKED; that's the third installment of the Superman franchise. It's drawbacks are obvious, and can be summed up easily; to much emphasis on comedy. However, it's merits have been wholly overlooked; imaginative ideas, special effects, music, performances and some scenes unmatched in the superhero genre.

The main plot centres around the very 1980's fear of computers. Movies such as The Terminator (1984) and War Games (1984) told us that computers would all-too-quickly break free from human control and threaten humanity. Superman III beat both these movies to the punch. The power of computers is displayed throughout the narrative, and seeing western society's reliance on computers even as far back as 1983 is startling. Gus Gorman (Richard Pryor) has incredible control over them, somehow, and begins to enhance his bankaccount via eletronic theft. His behaviour soon attracts the attention of the company mogul Ross Webster (Robert Vaughn) who manipulates Gus into far greater crimes. With Gus' computer skills, Webster can create chaos on a worldwide scale.

You can't commit crimes in Metropolis without taking care of Superman (Christopher Reeve) first, and Webster has plotted a terrible fate for the Man of Steel. They trick him into accepting a hunk of green kryptonite as a gift, and it warps him into a bitter, violent distorton of what he once was. Webster is unchallenged in threatening the globe as Superman has become his own worst enemy.

It's an imaginative plot, and refreshingly different to that of Superman II (1980). It throws up a lot of enemies for Superman, and he can't fight them with his fists alone. He needs intelligence to outwit them, bravery to endure their most powerful attacks and faith in himself to overcome his own downfall. CHANGE THIS

Christopher Reeve's best Superman performance is in this movie. He's more confident than before, bulkier than ever, he's no-nonsense and he IS Superman this time. In previous films Superman was gentle, nice to people; this time he shouts orders and takes out the trash. He's become a commanding figure, and he has an ergency when rescuing people that adds to the sense of danger. Reeve looks better than ever here, a true comicbook superhero in the flesh. The definitive superhero in his definitive performance.

Reeve also plays one of the best screen supervillains of all-time when Superman becomes corrupt. His suit becomes dark blue, his cape murky crimson, his face unshaved, his hair greasy and greying, his face twisted into an angry, depressed scowl. He slumps in a bar during working hours, downing spirits and smashing glasses. He snaps, "What are you looking at?!" at the crowds of people he used to devote his life to. And when Superman's former pal Ricky tells him, "You're just in a slump, you'll be great again," Superman just shakes his head sadly. The kryptonite hasn't turned Superman evil; it's turned him normal. This is Superman as an all-too-fallable human being. He isn't so much evil as manically depressed, drowning in his own bitterness and lashing out at everyone around him. This is an intriguing idea for such a franchise. And downbeat as it may be, it's even more uplifting when the real Superman is restored. Supes doesn't defeat his dark side by any sci-fi invention or McGuffin; he just fights back and eventually overcomes it.

Reeve is superb as this fallen champion; he eats up the screen. His desperation, his bitterness, his lack of hope or direction is palpable. As Superman slowly becomes distorted, there's something unspecifically wrong in Reeve's performance that makes all the difference. When he attempts to seduce Lana Lang (NAME), his gaze becomes unnerving and then quickly downright scary. There's a harsh lust in those eyes, but also violence, and he just stares at her until the audience squirms with her. As a movie aimed at a family audience this scene doesn't go any further, but it plants enough suggestion to what would be about to take place. The change in Superman from the ultimate good guy to lusting bad guy is shocking because Reeve plays it with utter conviction.

The struggle between Superman's two sides is illustrated by a vicious smackdown in a junkyard. What exactly takes place is never entirely clear, but as the corrupted Superman lands in a fast deserting scrapyard, Clark Kent steps out of him. After enchanging amazed looks, Superman brutally attacks him - because he can't stand seeing the man he used to be. This is genuinely fantastic on the levels of both action scene and psychological drama. Clark decides to fight back ("I can give as good as I get"), and a spectacular battle errupts. Clark slams Superman into a pool of acid, Superman leaps out and blows a handful back at him. Superman throws Clark into a car crusher, but Clark brakes out and captures Superman in a ring of tires. They beat each other with car bumpers and throw each other around. Finally Clark is triumphant, strangling (!) Superman until he disapears. Clark has not killed a real person, but the twisted side of himself. He rises from the dirt, looks to the bright blue sky and tears open his shirt - and the true Superman has returned. He soars majestically into the sky as the theme tune reaches a creschendo. And so ends possibly the greatest sequence in any comicbook movie. It takes a purely comicbook sequence and elevates it into perfect cinema.

And Reeve's performance is notable for a third reason, and a third role. As Clark Kent, the script alters the character somewhat from merely a disguise to a genuine personality. Thus Clark finds a romantic who falls for him and not the Man of Steel. There are even early signs that Clark and Superman sides are at odds - "If I had a nickle for everytime some kid asks me for Superman's autograph..." grumbles Clark when Ricky asks him for it. Clark has to fight to stay awake while listening to Jimmy Olsen talk about his family, and visits his old high school in Smallville. He even stands up against another adult - for someone else of course - when Brad Whitaker tries to teah Ricky how to bowl. Clark insists Ricky can do fine on his own. After a typical pratfall with some chalk, Clark uses the resulting super-sneeze to propell Ricky's half-assed shot into the pins and smash them. Although he is still the same put-upon clown, Clark is more pro-active and stronger in character, using a bit of cunning with his powers.

Clark's romance is with Lana Lang, who was girlfriend to Superboy in the comicbooks. She's played by Annette O'Toole, who went on to play mother to the neo-Superboy in the TV show Smallville. Kal-El's attraction for Lois Lane was never justified in the previous movies. Lana is a lot more appealing, as she is superior to the franchise Lois Lane in every respect. Simply, you can see why Clark would be attracted to her. With smoking, in-your-face, danger-courting Lois, it's hard to see the appeal (Teri Hatcher I can certainly see the appeal of). Lana is sweet and good-natured. she's honest, she's pure and she loves her son first and foremost (whereas Lois is devoted purely to her news stories). Her goodness shines out, whereas with Lois, it's obscured somewhat. Lana is a perfect woman for Clark.

It doesn't help Lois' cause that she's in the movie for less than five minutes. After protesting about Richard Donner's dismisal on Superman II, the producers of the series cut Margot Kidder's screentime as punishment. It works to the movie's favour though, as previously stated, Lana makes a refreshing and needed change from Lois. And as the ending of the previous movie stated, any relationship between Superman and Lois was doomed. One might wonder how Clark and Lana could have different fortunes, but the movie never adresses this. Clark gives Lana a ring but it's not an engagement ring, and he gets her a job at the Daily Planet. Lois takes this in with not-quite-contained jealousy; is Lana replacing her in Clark's affections? Alas, we never found out as Superman III ended there and Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987) dropped Lana altogether.

It wasn't just Kidder who was forceably replaced in Superman III. Supe's arch-enemy Lex Luthor was intended to appear, but Gene Hackman, also angered at Donner's firing, refused. And so Lex Luthor is turned into Ross Webster, and a few details altered. Webster, a multi-millionaire businessman of some sort, is actually more similar to the modern Luthor (post 1986) than the classic version of the character. Nevertheless, he's a Luthor stand-in. The Man from UNCLE Robert Vaugn brings his easy charisma to the part and manages to add a pinch of menace, but it's a thankless role. Webster is just too boring for a Superman villain.

Superman III is best known for the inclusion of Ricahrd Pryor, one of the great comedians of his generation. Many people didn't find his character, Gus Gorman, funny; the joke is not what he says, it's that he's in this film anyway. His precence sets an eerily co-incidental similarity with Batman Forever; third instalment, get in the biggest comedian around and go for fun. Pryor was expected to ad-lib into his stand-up routines, but as a huge Superman fan, he stuck closely to the script. He gets a lot of screen time, but if you look past the comedy, he has an intresting, slightly muted moral decision to make. Webster co-erces him into commiting increasingly great crimes, which Gorman does with a slight reluctance. But when Gorman gives Superman the Kryptonite which will soon corrupt him, Gorman immedietly has his own doubts about whether he is doing the right thing. And when Gorman realises what he is doing at the climax is wrong, he stands up to Webster and says no.

Webster has two accomplises; his sister, about whom Pryor amusingly makes a wrong assumption("You didn't tell me your mother was gonna be here!"), and his girlfriend Loreilei. Lorelei is like Miss Tessmarker if for some reason she pretended to act dumb. Stevenson seems to be Lester's view of the typical American bimbo, and seems to be there simply to expose as much of her breats as she can - she even rubs sun tan lotion between her wonderbra-lifted boobs whilst on a (mock) snow-coevered ski slope. Then she is found secretly reading

Watching Superman III in comparison with the original movie, the differences are quite pronounced. Although Lester wisely keeps the key details the same, he has a different view of Superman. Richard Donner believes in Superman, and the American icon he is. Lester is an Englishman, and takes a more detached view. The opening credit sequence takes place not in space with the booming theme tune, but in a busy street. It's typical Lester slapstick, involving every Laurel & Hardy element from a priceless painting just waiting to be walked through, cream cakes and buckets of paint to hundreds of tiny balls to roll around on, open manhole covers and robot penguin toys. Whether this type of humour has any place in Superman is debatable, and the fact is it's simply not funny. Nor were the slapstick gags and visual jokes Lester mistakenly inserted into Superman II (1980).

If the corrupted Superman plot had become the central one instead of Gus' computer, if the junkyard battle was the climax, Superman III could have been a genuine standout in the genre. Indeed, the movie was originally titled Superman Versus Superman, and it's a shame this awesome aspect is given second-billing to the computer-gone-amok stuff.

 

[Kevin Roegele]

...

 

[Kevin Roegele]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)

One of the unavoidable juggling acts of making a comicbook-based movie is trying to please the different audience members. Obviously there are fans of the comicbook; obviously there is the general audience. But when the movie is based on a property as famous as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, there are also fans of the animated TV show, the video games, and so forth. All will come to the movie with varied expectations. And the Turtles had been presented quite differently in their various incarnations, despite the essential simplicity of the characters. The challenge becomes how to approach the project artistically as well as how to achieve it physically.

In the case of TMNT, the cartoon was more widely known than the comic itself. It’s due to the success of the cartoon itself, rather than the comic, that the feature film was greenlighted. After all, popular as the comic was - and it was incredibly popular - it didn’t have the worldwide audience that a Saturday morning cartoon does. The Turtles rose through every entertainment media, comics, cartoons, video games, and a movie was the pinnacle.

Kudos, then, to director Steve Baron. Somehow he’s managed to capture the spirit of the cartoon whilst staying faithful to the comicbook. Or the other way round. The original comics the movie is based upon are dark and violent, the cartoon is vibrant and silly. Baron treads a fine line between the two, humour and drama, violence and slapstick. The Turtles take out the trash but crack endless silly lines. They attack ninjas with huge katanas but also use them to slice up pizza (which ends up on the head of Splinter, their giant rat sensei). It's a perfect balance and results in an unstoppably entertaining movie.

Let’s not forget, this is an independent movie, without the backing of a Warner Bros or 20th Century Fox. With their control, the movie would certainly have been….well, like the sequel, The Secret of the Ooze, which was released the following year. Without a major studio on his back, Baron had more control but less money. As such, what he managed to achieve is even more impressive.

TMNT has a wonderful sense of realism, despite the fantastic premise. Thanks to a lot of dark sets, a lot of location work, and excellent performances from the human cast, the film has a sense of, "It's insane but it's happening". It's a struggle to name more than a handful of superhero movies which recreate such a strong, believable world.

The costumes are nothing less than astonishing. The Turtles are created so well, given so much character, so much life, you almost want to cheer when they appear for the first time. They're so amusing and appealing you can't help but love them. The performances of an actor inside the costume, numerous animatronic operators, and then a voice-over artist as well, all come together to create four uniquely memorable characters that live and breathe alongside the humans of the story.

The Turtles are equally impressive in action. One might expect the suits to be cumbersome and limiting during fight sequences - look how hard it's been for Batman actors - but that never comes across onscreen. They leap, somersault, backflip, jump-kick and more with gusto. Their maneuverability allows the choreography plenty of freedom in creating high-energy martial arts sequences, as well as running, acrobatics, and anything else required of them. The Turtles can do anything. It adds so much to the believability of the characters, and therefore the movie, that there is no holding back.

The film also catches the personalities of the characters perfectly. Leonardo is the dedicated, slightly naive leader. Donatello the laid-back techno-wizard. Michaelangelo the prankster. And Raphael, the brooding, angst-ridden loner. Certainly Raph is the most intresting of the four, and it's amazing just how much of his angry internal pain is shown. When he stumbles into the Turtles' sewer hideout, pushes past his brothers to find Splinter missing and lets out a cry of pent-up anguish, the viewer sits up in surprise. Not simply for the fact that's it's included at all, but that's it's so affecting.

The Turtles have back up in the form of sports-obsessed vigilante Casey Jones, a wry, tonbue-in-cheek performance by Elias Koteas.

The Shredder stands as one of the greatest villains of the genre. His sinister prescence eats up the screen, and he projects a powerful aura of mystery and violence. Shredder has a deputy, Tatsu, who is enough of a badass himself

The comicbook itself was originally a parody of hot properties at the time, the X-Men (teenage mutants) and Daredevil (full of ninjas including the Hand clan). Ironically TMNT made it to the big screen before both of those properties. The Turtles are given an appropriately unlikely creation through the use of radioactive slime called Mutagen (which the sequel follows up on). That sci-fi element aside, this is pure martial arts action and adventure. Baron hits all the big notes in the energetic fight scenes, allowing the Golden Harvest stunt team to create some impressive clashes between the Foot and the Turtles.

The high point of the film is, as it always should be, the climactic face-off between the four Turtles and the Shredder. After taking out hordes off Foot Soldiers, the heroes end up on a moonlit roof, facing one simple guy with a spear....who precedes to take them apart, out after the other. There is a terrific close-up of the Shredder dropping into the frame. This guy exudes menace, and the viewer knows the Turtles are in trouble this time. Shredder fights them all, one-on-one, repeatedly, the best part being a vicious battle with Leonardo which demonstrates the amazing flexibility of the costumes.

All this is backed up by the ominous-yet-hip T.U.R.T.L.E Power by Partners In Kryme, surely the best tie-in single he genre has heard.

This is a legitimate attempt to tell the story of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, rather than simply make money from it ala the two sequels. This is a genuine film, whereas they are movies. Thanks to this approach, and faultless execution, Steve Baron's movie can truly lay a claim to being one of the best comicbook movies ever. It's hard to imagine any director could have done a better job than Baron does here.

The film fades out with a high shot of three of the Turtles dancing on a rooftop, but Raphael walks over to Splinter and hugs him. It's this sort of detail and attention to character, present but not overstated, that makes the film special. It's about the Turtles defeating the Foot Clan, it's also about Raph's relationship with his father figure, and of course Danny's with his actual father.

TMNT remains, to this day, a vastly impressive piece of work that suceeds in almost every way. As such it can be put alongside the likes of Superman (1978), X-Men (2000) and The Crow (1994) as one of the all-time great comicbook adaptions.

Additional note; Sam Raimi should take a look at this film. The Turtles do a lot of fighting, they have emotional drama AND they are funny.

 

[Catman]

Keep up the good work, Kev, but add some pics.