Sunday, August 26, 2012
Why "The Expendables" Sets a Bad Example for Action Films
The Expendables is a marketing ploy, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. An ensemble cast consisting of several big name Hollywood action stars alongside some old and new faces. Nothing inherently wrong with that, the Ocean's # movies were the same thing. What seperates them is style, and ability to bounce around amongst the different characters.
That's one of the numerous problems that The Expendables has: it is completely incompetent when it comes to jumping between characters. In fact, more than half of the big names in the film are ignored completely and pushed to the sidelines until they need them. The first big chunk of the film consists only of Stallone and Statham, the rest of the team don't reappear until around the 1-hour mark. Yet, even with all this time with these two main roles, we get no sense of who they are. They're cardboard.
Yet it's not that the film doesn't try to create more interesting or complex characters, it's just that it is horribly misguided. Stallone is old, Statham is emotionally distant, Lundgren is a junkie, and Li is short. I'm not kidding about that last one, Li has an entire monologue about why life is harder for him because he's short.
The only character who seems to have any sort of arc at all is Lundgren, but it's so weak. His character is immediately introduced as a loose cannon, he's kicked off the team, predictably betrays them, fights Li and Stallone before being shot, and suddenly shows remorse for his actions and gives them new information to help them. What's really strange about the character is that appears to die in this scene, only to show up right before the credits, back with the team, genial as can be. There is no tension between him and the rest of the team, but there should be. I mean, he almost killed Li, yet isn't given so much as a cautious look. I have no problem with the team reluctantly letting him back in, but there needs to be some substance. I totally understand falling out with friends in horrible ways before eventually making amends and becoming amicable once more. But, speaking from experience, that initial betrayal can stick with you for a long time. You may never fully trust them again. However, this is just my experience from schoolyard scruffles, not whole-sale attempts on my life.
Another major problem is tone. Most of the film feels only somewhat serious, particularly dialogue sequences. Then the action sequences come and, for the most part, are super serious, not nearly as over-the-top as the rest of film would suggest they should be. In fact, the action scenes are a complete mess. I won't be hyperbolic and suggest they're the most poorly staged/filmed action sequences ever (that honor still belongs to The Hunger Games), but they are still incredibly incoherent. Several times I had no idea who was involved in the action on screen: the scene starts with Statham and Li, but suddenly there's someone else. Who? Oh, it's Randy Couture from nowhere. But wait, where the hell is Terry Cr... oh, there he is. Sometimes there are multiple action sequences playing out in tandem with one another. Not a problem in slightest, in theory. What becomes a problem is when you don't know which scene you're looking at. Example: two scenes running alongside one another was Li, Statham, Crews, and Couture fighting a bunch of henchmen, meanwhile Sly is fighting one on one with Steve Austin. The fight between Sly and Austin ends so abruptly I had to rewind the movie to see why it ended. It's not like cutting between tandem scenes is advanced stuff, it's first-semester Editing 101. Nor is it that Stallone doesn't know how to do it right, Rambo did it perfectly well.
But what really bugs me is that the movie isn't about anything. No, stop. I know what you're going to say: "but it doesn't need to be about anything. It's a mindless action movie harkening back to classics from the 80's and 90's, it's just supposed to be simple, mindless fun." Please realize that I completely understand such a statement, I can enjoy a little mindless fun as much as anyone: I've seen all three Jackass movies, including the 2.5 and 3.5 direct-to-DVD bits, and I saw 2 in theaters. But you know what, we're not talking about mindless fun, we're talking about a film with story, characters, and emotions. Just because you're not out to win any awards doesn't mean you can simply ignore those details.
Case in point. Lets look at a classic action film of the type The Expendables claims to be an homage to: Die Hard. Die Hard is fast, over the top, and incredibly violent (at least for its day). But really look at the film. What is it REALLY about? Let me tell you, it isn't about high tech theives seizing control of a building. Nope, it's about John McClane's marriage. It's about overcoming past traumas. We see right off the bat that they want to make it all work (John bringin a gift, Holly still has pictures of the family in her office), but they are definitely drifting apart (John is too settled in New York, Holly goes by her maiden name). Slowly, over the course of the film, they are realizing their own feelings about one another: Holly realizing that John is a determined man who will never give up, John realizing how immature he's been and how he should have supported his wife better. No, this is not the main plot of the film, but it is the basic underlying theme: support and trust. Die Hard does the little things that makes each character that much more relatable to the audience. In fact, the villains originally were supposed to be legitimate terrorists, but were changed to theives in order to have a more relatable goal (we all know what it's like to want money). Everything about Die Hard is done to benefit the audience's experience.
The Expendables does none of this. None of the characters are relatable: at their best they are archetypes, at their worst they are non-existant. There is no backstory to any of the characters (except Rourke, but I'll get to that in a bit). Every character exists solely to benefit the action, and they can't even do that right. There is no theme for any character, nor for the film in general. Perhaps you think Die Hard does this because it is a classic action film. Perhaps you think a "lesser" action film does not require theme. If you do think so, you are wrong.
Just to prove my point, look no further than Stallone's own Rambo. No, not First Blood, the introduction of the character, I mean the THIRD SEQUEL. It too could be called a simple, over-the-top, indulgent action movie same as The Expendables. But Rambo is a better film not simply because the action is better or it's edited better, but it does in fact have a theme: the call to action, the necessity of violent retaliation in the face of unforgiving brute force. Even the smallest, seemingly inconsequential role has an arc in that film. The leader of the missionaries, initially greatly insulted by Rambo's violent tendencies and convicted in his belief of pacifism is eventually forced to bludgeon a man to death to save his friends. Not exactly a sophisticated theme or execution, but it's there nonetheless. Stallone even placed the sequence of Rambo using an inactive bomb dropped in the country years ago to take out a large group of soldiers in as a way of commenting on the idea of the violence of past generations coming back to hurt current generations.
What I'm trying to say is that, contrary to what some people seem to think, Stallone is not some meathead movie star without a thought in his brain. Let's not forget, Sly has an Oscar... for WRITING (Rocky). He knows how to develop characters, he knows how to incorporate theme, he knows how to create character arcs.
So why is it that The Expendables is just so devoid of all these elements? I'd be hard-pressed to say that maybe scenes were cut and characters split into multiple parts to allow for more stars, but that doesn't excuse how shoddily constructed individual scenes of the film tend to be. If you've taken a high school English class you're probably aware of three-act structure. Many writers use this structure for the entire story, but it actually works better for individual scenes. Mostly because it's simplistic and allows for an emotional build to a climax before calming down and moving onto the next scene. As I write this I'm watching the scene in Die Hard where McClane is hiding in the airvents while Karl pursues him. That's a great example of an individual scene using three-act structure. You could also look at the Gruber-Takagi scene (if you've seen the film, you know which one I'm talking about). The Expendables follows no structure whatsoever for it's individual scenes. It just alternates between characters talking, shouting, or fighting.
Only one scene seems to have any emotional structure at all: the Mickey Rourke confession. The problem is that we literally know nothing about his character at this point, we have no context. Don't try to say you can infer elements of his character from his occupation or interactions with women, no. That's weak, an excuse. Why does manage this team, what led him to do so? Why is he promiscuous with women? Suddenly this incredibly emotional, deep confession comes from this character. It's there for a reason, to inspire Stallone's character to return to the action and rescue a woman. But why does this confession inspire him? There's seemingly on connection between this confession and anything about Stallone's character. If there is, it's glossed over so quickly I can't recall it in the slightest (I only finished watching it an hour ago).
That's the reason The Expendables sets a bad example for action films: it glosses over all the details. It thinks it can get away without them. It thinks it can slip past criticism by claiming to be an homage. Well sorry, homage is not a blanket term which excuses a filmmaker for not following the basic tenents of filmmaking. Think of Quentin Tarantino or Edgar Wright (the Kings of Homage as far as I'm concerned), whose entire filmographies are built solely on homages to other films, genres, and pop culture in general, yet always manage to have themes and basic emotional cores (Hot Fuzz is a vastly superior homage to 80's and 90's action films). And yet, audiences seem fine with The Expendables simplistic, hollowed out approach to filmmaking compared to the passionate, driven, and groundbreaking works of someone like Wright, seeing as The Expendables raped Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World at the box office.
It's not that I don't want simple-minded action films that serve as escapist fun, it's that I don't want films that serve merely as a paycheck to the filmmakers.
"Warrior" Analysis (or "Why the Protaganist Isn't Necessarily the Point of the Story)
I haven't written a review in while, partially because I've been working on other things, partially because I haven't seen too many new movies lately, but mostly because I just haven't had anything to add to the conversation. Case in point: the last film I saw in theaters was The Dark Knight Rises. What did I think: good movie, far from perfect, need to see it again to elaborate. A lot of critics have already had their go at TDKR and have said far more interesting things than I could.
But there is one film (not exactly new, mind you) that no one ever seems to talk about but which I think deserves much more discussion: the MMA drama Warrior. The film deserves discussion for numerous reasons, but mostly because it is the first of what could be a new genre of films: the MMA fighter film. Much in the same way Rocky opened the lid on boxing movies, Warrior deserves to be seen as a progeniter. Not to mention the fact that it's one of the most effective relationship dramas in recent memory(1).
The main characters of Tommy Riordan (Tom Hardy) and Brendan Conlon (Joel Edgerton) are brothers participating in a winner-take-all MMA tournament. Yet the two are not simply at odds in the ring, but also in their relationship to one another. Tommy and Brendan come from a broken home wrecked by their alcoholic father Paddy Conlon (Nick Nolte). The family broke apart as the mother planned to take Tommy and Brendan and leave, but Brendan decides to stay due to his developing relationship with his girlfriend Tess (Jennifer Morrison), who eventually becomes his wife. Brendan felt from then on that his mother and brother abandoned him, whereas Tommy felt betrayed.
The entire film revolves around these central family dynamics and grows from there. Yet, while on the surface the film appears to be about redemtion and forgiveness I believe there is something deeper: how a family must protect one another. This particular aspect falls upon both characters of Brendan and Tommy, although is perhaps a bit more subtle with the latter. Brendan is a family man who gave up fighting to become a teacher and raise his two daughters. But when the bank threatens to foreclose on his house and he is suspended from his teaching position, Brendan works tirelessly to provide for (or perhaps protect) his wife and children. Tommy is a bit more complicated. Tommy is revealed to have been a Marine in Afghanistan who went AWOL when his entire unit was killed by friendly fire. One of the men killed in his unit was his best friend, whose widow he subsequently promises to provide for after their loss.
Because Tommy is such a physical beheamoth and a brutal brawler we have a hard time seeing past the tough guy persona. He puts up that veil for the entire film, but you can see little moments bleed through. Tommy's promise to the widow of his best friend, the wish for his father to have been supportive as a child, and the final forgiveness of his father when seeing him at his lowest. We also see he is not an instigator, rarely starting a fight but always finishing it.
Yet look deeper and you see that Tommy doesn't want to be the fighter. He is not the eponymous warrior, nor does he want to be. At the center of his being Tommy wants to be the protecter, the provider. We see that in his promise to his friends widow, as well as through his act of bravery in saving the lives of fellow Marines after stumbling upon their struggling unit (even though he was at the time going AWOL). He clearly has the power and capabilities to be such a protector or provider.
However, going ever deeper, that may not be what he needs. Tommy feels completely betrayed by an abusive father and brother who he believed loved him. Even when he left with his mother, Tommy had to be the one to take care of her after she fell ill.
I should also probably mention this: Tommy is the younger brother. What kind of relationship develops between a boy and his older brother? Often it's a mixture of admiration and resentment. You want to be like your older brother, you see them as the standard to hold yourself to. They might poke and prod at your here and there, but you also hope that no matter what, push comes to shove, they will fight to protect you. And if something comes along and seems to prove otherwise, it's devastating(2).
So it seems that all his life Tommy has been the provider, the strong one. Yet in the final match against Brendan, Tommy is injured and loses the use of his left arm. While he refuses to back down, we see Tommy is in dire straits: weeping for the first time on screen, cowering in his corner, alone. Even the cheers of the crowd and support his of his Marine Corp "brothers" are of little comfort. Tommy fights on with one arm, refusing to back down, he knows nothing else. But in the final moments Brendan has him pinned and apologizes, before Tommy finally admits defeat. The most important part of this scene is not that Brendan apologizes nor is it that Tommy forgives him, but that we finally see Brendan behaving like an older brother: keeping the press away from Tommy, shielding him from the chaos of the crowd, and walking Tommy away from the arena with his arms around him. Protecting Tommy.
Endnotes
1. I decided to mix up the style of analysis for this one, reaching deeper into a single aspect of the film for more effective examination. I might try to keep this format for the future. Or maybe not, I've been watching this movie for a year.
2. I speak of this from experience with my own older brother. When we were much younger he allowed one of his friends (without my prior knowledge) to practice wrestling moves on me. In the ensuing scuffle I hurt my back and limped home, my brother staying behind with his friend. Needless to say, after learning of my brothers compliance in his friends actions, I put far less trust in him. We have since grown up and are on amicable terms.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Review of Sucker Punch
Sucker Punch is, not ironically, something you will not see coming. It is a film that is equal parts action, fantasy, asylum drama, burlesque, and quasi-music video. It’s the kind of film that, despite appearances, does have thought in its head and a theme to be examined.
Sucker Punch is the fifth film by Director Zack Snyder, yet the first of which that is not an adaptation of some kind. Snyder is a born visual storyteller, composing each shot as if it were a painting. There is true artistry in the visuals of all of his films (particularly Watchmen) and he’s not about to hold back now.
Sucker Punch tells the story of a young woman (nicknamed Baby Doll) who is sent to an insane asylum by her stepfather. She learns that in five days she will be lobotomized, and so she escapes into a fantasy world within her own mind. A world in which she instead trapped in a 1920’s style brothel and acts out her escape plan there. Yet even within this dream Baby Doll imagines her various trials and tribulations as fantastical action sequences.
For the most part, all Sucker Punch really has are symbols and metaphors. The story isn’t particularly interesting and there’s little, if any, character development. What’s interesting about the film are its various iconography, which it uses to comment on female empowerment.
Think about what it means to be a strong male character: a man who stands up to his oppressors, a man of action who is always able to fight back, a man who stands up for his ideals. What do you think of when you hear strong female character? Personally, I don’t see many heroines in films that are actually strong female characters. Most of them essentially become roles that would be interchangeable with another male role (think Alice in the Resident Evil movies). The only one I can think of in recent memory is The Bride in Kill Bill, a role of action hero that could only be portrayed as a woman.
All of the heroines of the film are essentially all fighting back against heroic male iconography: battles with large samurai, battlefields of both World Wars, a Lord of the Rings styled castle (complete with orcs), and a runaway train with a bomb onboard. The fantasies all take place in the mind of Baby Doll when she is forced to dance for the entertainment of her male oppressors, yet these dream sequences are filled with Freudian male imagery (swords, guns, trains, etc) which the heroines interchangeably use and destroy.
What we are seeing is the typical female heroine’s internal, emotional battle “translated” as the typical male’s outward, reactionary battle. It’s not the fantasy battles themselves that are empowering, but instead what they stand in for.
Also of note is the aesthetic portrayal of the film’s male and female characters. All of the male characters are portrayed as being sleazy, conniving, or downright ugly with the exclusion of John Hamm who plays the one sympathetic male character (within the real world). In contrast, the women are breathtakingly beautiful, particularly within the dream sequences where they are often wearing sexy lingerie. They appear almost as works of art to be appreciated in and of themselves (objectification) yet consistently fight back and overpower their adversaries.
However, as fun as it is to wax philosophically about a film such as this, there are still questions that need to be answered.
The acting is all good for the most part. While the characters are not particularly developed, the actors portray them with much more depth than the script would suggest. Particular praise must be given to Emily Browning as Baby Doll, who shows us the character clearly and definitely yet doesn’t utter a single word for the first 15 to 20 minutes of the film (I actually thought Snyder might have been attempting to tell the story without the main character ever speaking, which could have been cool). Also of note is Scott Glenn as The Wise Man, who essentially embodies every male action hero/mentor character complete with clichés and one-liners.
The film’s biggest problem is a lack of emotional context. Once we figure out that the actions sequences are all dreams while the “real” world of the brothel is also a dream we lose nearly all our sense of place or consequences. It’s like when a friend tells you a story that one of their friends told them.
In the end, Sucker Punch is a visual fiesta that is gorgeous to behold. In some ways a action film with messages and ideas, yet in other ways plays as indulgence for indulgence’s sake.
Production Value: 8
Entertainment Value: 8
Sucker Punch is the fifth film by Director Zack Snyder, yet the first of which that is not an adaptation of some kind. Snyder is a born visual storyteller, composing each shot as if it were a painting. There is true artistry in the visuals of all of his films (particularly Watchmen) and he’s not about to hold back now.
Sucker Punch tells the story of a young woman (nicknamed Baby Doll) who is sent to an insane asylum by her stepfather. She learns that in five days she will be lobotomized, and so she escapes into a fantasy world within her own mind. A world in which she instead trapped in a 1920’s style brothel and acts out her escape plan there. Yet even within this dream Baby Doll imagines her various trials and tribulations as fantastical action sequences.
For the most part, all Sucker Punch really has are symbols and metaphors. The story isn’t particularly interesting and there’s little, if any, character development. What’s interesting about the film are its various iconography, which it uses to comment on female empowerment.
Think about what it means to be a strong male character: a man who stands up to his oppressors, a man of action who is always able to fight back, a man who stands up for his ideals. What do you think of when you hear strong female character? Personally, I don’t see many heroines in films that are actually strong female characters. Most of them essentially become roles that would be interchangeable with another male role (think Alice in the Resident Evil movies). The only one I can think of in recent memory is The Bride in Kill Bill, a role of action hero that could only be portrayed as a woman.
All of the heroines of the film are essentially all fighting back against heroic male iconography: battles with large samurai, battlefields of both World Wars, a Lord of the Rings styled castle (complete with orcs), and a runaway train with a bomb onboard. The fantasies all take place in the mind of Baby Doll when she is forced to dance for the entertainment of her male oppressors, yet these dream sequences are filled with Freudian male imagery (swords, guns, trains, etc) which the heroines interchangeably use and destroy.
What we are seeing is the typical female heroine’s internal, emotional battle “translated” as the typical male’s outward, reactionary battle. It’s not the fantasy battles themselves that are empowering, but instead what they stand in for.
Also of note is the aesthetic portrayal of the film’s male and female characters. All of the male characters are portrayed as being sleazy, conniving, or downright ugly with the exclusion of John Hamm who plays the one sympathetic male character (within the real world). In contrast, the women are breathtakingly beautiful, particularly within the dream sequences where they are often wearing sexy lingerie. They appear almost as works of art to be appreciated in and of themselves (objectification) yet consistently fight back and overpower their adversaries.
However, as fun as it is to wax philosophically about a film such as this, there are still questions that need to be answered.
The acting is all good for the most part. While the characters are not particularly developed, the actors portray them with much more depth than the script would suggest. Particular praise must be given to Emily Browning as Baby Doll, who shows us the character clearly and definitely yet doesn’t utter a single word for the first 15 to 20 minutes of the film (I actually thought Snyder might have been attempting to tell the story without the main character ever speaking, which could have been cool). Also of note is Scott Glenn as The Wise Man, who essentially embodies every male action hero/mentor character complete with clichés and one-liners.
The film’s biggest problem is a lack of emotional context. Once we figure out that the actions sequences are all dreams while the “real” world of the brothel is also a dream we lose nearly all our sense of place or consequences. It’s like when a friend tells you a story that one of their friends told them.
In the end, Sucker Punch is a visual fiesta that is gorgeous to behold. In some ways a action film with messages and ideas, yet in other ways plays as indulgence for indulgence’s sake.
Production Value: 8
Entertainment Value: 8
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sleepwalk With Me
I've been a fan of comedian Mike Birbiglia for about 5 or 6 years. I've seen all his specials and I own both his CD's, and they're all wonderfully hysterical. But a couple of years ago I heard he was performing a one-man off-broadway show produced by Nathan Lane... well color me intrigued. Unfortunately, he was apparently only performing it in New York and I have never had the resources to just GO to New York. So, I never saw the show and my disappointment slowly drifted away, forgotten.
Then quite recently (as in, yesterday) I discovered that Mr. Birbiglia had written a book about many of the stories that were told within his one-man show. I thought "this is probably the only way I'll experience these stories" so I went out an bought it (using a store coupon, I'm not made of money). I cracked it open this morning and I could not stop reading.
I'll try to give some perspective on this fact. While I do in fact read books, I will usually take several months to get through a single book as I tend to read infrequently and at a glacial speed. It also depends on what book I may be reading: Dune is probably the most mind-numbingly complex books I've ever read, but I enjoyed it so much I was able to knock it out over the course of a summer. And while Mike Birbiglia's "Sleepwalk With Me" is far from being a great literary achievement, it's still a damn good read. This is the first time I've ever read ANY book (over 10 pages in length) in a single sitting, I suppose that should mean something.
And as hilarious as the book so often is, Birbiglia isn't afraid to get very personal. His stories regarding his first serious relationship, meeting and dealing with the death of his hero (and mine) Mitch Hedberg are particularly moving. Of note is one passage wherein he describes his close relationship with his mother that was brought on by their mutual love of church. He goes on to explain his personal problems with the church that were partially brought on by this relationship. I'm not a religious nor anti-religious person and I've always felt that the criticisms from both sides were equally childish and pointless, with anti-religious always citing reasons of logic. Birbiglia's problems with the church are purely emotional, and it's one of the few times I really empathized with either side of the argument.
The book fantastically balances humor and humility with insight and emotion. At any moment your tears of sadness can become tears of uncontrollable laughter.
This is a book to keep an eye out for, go out and give it a read.
Then quite recently (as in, yesterday) I discovered that Mr. Birbiglia had written a book about many of the stories that were told within his one-man show. I thought "this is probably the only way I'll experience these stories" so I went out an bought it (using a store coupon, I'm not made of money). I cracked it open this morning and I could not stop reading.
I'll try to give some perspective on this fact. While I do in fact read books, I will usually take several months to get through a single book as I tend to read infrequently and at a glacial speed. It also depends on what book I may be reading: Dune is probably the most mind-numbingly complex books I've ever read, but I enjoyed it so much I was able to knock it out over the course of a summer. And while Mike Birbiglia's "Sleepwalk With Me" is far from being a great literary achievement, it's still a damn good read. This is the first time I've ever read ANY book (over 10 pages in length) in a single sitting, I suppose that should mean something.
And as hilarious as the book so often is, Birbiglia isn't afraid to get very personal. His stories regarding his first serious relationship, meeting and dealing with the death of his hero (and mine) Mitch Hedberg are particularly moving. Of note is one passage wherein he describes his close relationship with his mother that was brought on by their mutual love of church. He goes on to explain his personal problems with the church that were partially brought on by this relationship. I'm not a religious nor anti-religious person and I've always felt that the criticisms from both sides were equally childish and pointless, with anti-religious always citing reasons of logic. Birbiglia's problems with the church are purely emotional, and it's one of the few times I really empathized with either side of the argument.
The book fantastically balances humor and humility with insight and emotion. At any moment your tears of sadness can become tears of uncontrollable laughter.
This is a book to keep an eye out for, go out and give it a read.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Early Review of The Town
I saw The Town at an early screening tonight. And I urge everyone to go see it when it comes out this Friday.
It must be said: Ben Affleck, all is forgiven. I don't care what you think of Ben Affleck as a major film star/actor, what you think of his image in the spotlight, or the whole "Bennifer" thing, he is one hell of a Director.
He made his Directorial debut with "Gone Baby Gone," a crime movie about an abducted child starring his younger brother, Casey Affleck. I mistakenly avoided it for several years as I had fallen into the public's general dismissal of Ben, only to sit through it on a lonely summer night and hate myself for judging a book by it's cover. Gone Baby Gone was one of the best crime films in recent memory, and placed Affleck back on my radar. So when I began to see previews of his next crime thriller, The Town, I had high hopes.
The Town follows Affleck as a Charlestown bank robber. His crew, including Jeremy Renner, pull a bank heist in which they take a hostage (Rebecca Hall). Affleck continues to tail her in order to pick up any loose string, but begins to fall in love with her. Meanwhile, a tenacious FBI Agent (Jon Hamm) pursues his gang, who prepare for their next heist.
I'd like to get the bad stuff out of the way, because I want to end this on a positive note. A big problem with the movie is it's paralels to Michael Mann's Heat. It has the same romantic set up, same cop and robber beats, only it's all condensed to under 2 hours. To be honest, the love story between Affleck and Hall is largely forgettable, as are most of the characters, whose names I cannot even remember. No one is winning any awards, nor is anyone going to be remembered as these characters. However, each actor does their job well, providing a comfortable atmosphere for the movie to move around in.
Now, it must be said, the heist scenes in The Town are some of the best since Heat itself. The opening scene alone makes the movie worth seeing, and it all builds to a huge shootout in a baseball stadium that flows into the streets. Each action scene has great flow, with numerous changes in tone as well as rythym. Everything is tightly edited and keeps you on the edge of your seat. Also, great sound design with the guns. Each one has its own sound and unique reverberation depending on the environment. We don't get that in enough movies. I'm sure Mann himself would be proud.
Also of note is the humor. Not too many crime films would be willing to fit in this much comedy within their stories. Affleck clearly wants laughter, and a lot of it is quite good. It's nice and calming to know that the film doesn't want to take itself too seriously, especially when some of the more melodramatic scenes work their way in. It's weird to say this without being sarcastic but, this serious crime thriller is funnier than most comedies that have come out this year. And I say that with utmost respect.
All in all, The Town is not as great an achievement as Gone Baby Gone, but is still a great crime thriller all it's own. The action scenes must be seen to be believed. Affleck certainly has a gift when it comes to crime thrillers, and I eagerly await for word of his next project.
Production Value: 7/10
Entertainment Value: 9/10
Overall Value: 8/10
He made his Directorial debut with "Gone Baby Gone," a crime movie about an abducted child starring his younger brother, Casey Affleck. I mistakenly avoided it for several years as I had fallen into the public's general dismissal of Ben, only to sit through it on a lonely summer night and hate myself for judging a book by it's cover. Gone Baby Gone was one of the best crime films in recent memory, and placed Affleck back on my radar. So when I began to see previews of his next crime thriller, The Town, I had high hopes.
The Town follows Affleck as a Charlestown bank robber. His crew, including Jeremy Renner, pull a bank heist in which they take a hostage (Rebecca Hall). Affleck continues to tail her in order to pick up any loose string, but begins to fall in love with her. Meanwhile, a tenacious FBI Agent (Jon Hamm) pursues his gang, who prepare for their next heist.
I'd like to get the bad stuff out of the way, because I want to end this on a positive note. A big problem with the movie is it's paralels to Michael Mann's Heat. It has the same romantic set up, same cop and robber beats, only it's all condensed to under 2 hours. To be honest, the love story between Affleck and Hall is largely forgettable, as are most of the characters, whose names I cannot even remember. No one is winning any awards, nor is anyone going to be remembered as these characters. However, each actor does their job well, providing a comfortable atmosphere for the movie to move around in.
Now, it must be said, the heist scenes in The Town are some of the best since Heat itself. The opening scene alone makes the movie worth seeing, and it all builds to a huge shootout in a baseball stadium that flows into the streets. Each action scene has great flow, with numerous changes in tone as well as rythym. Everything is tightly edited and keeps you on the edge of your seat. Also, great sound design with the guns. Each one has its own sound and unique reverberation depending on the environment. We don't get that in enough movies. I'm sure Mann himself would be proud.
Also of note is the humor. Not too many crime films would be willing to fit in this much comedy within their stories. Affleck clearly wants laughter, and a lot of it is quite good. It's nice and calming to know that the film doesn't want to take itself too seriously, especially when some of the more melodramatic scenes work their way in. It's weird to say this without being sarcastic but, this serious crime thriller is funnier than most comedies that have come out this year. And I say that with utmost respect.
All in all, The Town is not as great an achievement as Gone Baby Gone, but is still a great crime thriller all it's own. The action scenes must be seen to be believed. Affleck certainly has a gift when it comes to crime thrillers, and I eagerly await for word of his next project.
Production Value: 7/10
Entertainment Value: 9/10
Overall Value: 8/10
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Review of Machete
I didn't like Grindhouse. Yeah, it was a really cool project with two of the best "indie" directors in the business working together for two movies. But the problem was I just didn't really get it, or rather, I didn't get half of it. Rodriguez's side of Grindhouse worked really well for me. It was a mess of absurd fun and ridiculous violence (still not cool with the kid shooting himself, though). And I thought it pulled off the entire idea behind the project almost singlehandedly. Then Taranino's half began and it just never seemed to end. Seriously, it's just an hour and a half of Tarantino's WORST characters ever talking about absolutely nothing interesting and then being killed all in one big car crash (well, there are actually two sets of main characters, so halfway through you get to meet more uninteresting people). My point is, I felt that Rodriguez's half was the only part worth watching.
Now we have Machete, which is based off of one of the fake B-movie trailers in Grindhouse (which I found to be the most fun) and Rodriguez shows us once again that he's still top-dog when it comes to A-movie Direction with a B-movie concept. The film follows the title character, Machete (played by long time second-fiddle Danny Trejo) who was a legendary federale until his family were murdered by a Mexican druglord (strangely played by Steven Seagal). He seeks refuge across the border, looking for simple jobs to make ends meet. Then one day he is hired to assasinate a racist Texas Senator (Robert De Niro) who is pushing for stronger emmigration enforcement. However, Machete is double crossed in a high level political conspiracy to gain the voters approval of stricter emmigration laws. Unfortunately for said conspirators, "they just fucked with the wrong Mexican."
Yep, this is a supposedly mindless action movie based around a current hot-button issue. Let me reassure you, Machete has definitely got some things to say and some viewpoints to express (racism, scapegoating, vigilantism, immigration, etc.) but none of that takes hold of the movie. If you want to turn your brain off and just enjoy it, the film will certainly still work for you. Sure it's got messages and ideas, but we're never asked to take it too serieously. However, I'd say it's worth listening a bit to what it has to tell.
I have to say the acting is a mixed bag, unfortunately. I understand that part of the feel of these types of films is the off-color acting (looking at you Alba and Lohan) but I'd rather have good actors giving "bad" performances on purpose (Jeff Fahey) than bad actors giving bad performances (Seagal) because that's just what they do. There's a fine line between emulating a bad job and simply doing a bad job. It's really hit-or-miss with the supporting cast: Cheech Marin, Jeff Fahey, Don Johnson, and of course Robert De Niro are all spot-on; but Jessica Alba, Lindsay Lohan, and Steven Seagal are (predictably) not up to the task. And then there's Michelle Rodriguez, who seems to think that to be a strong female role model she has to act like a man (but have a vagina) and continues her recent career path of doing neither a good job or a bad job. Fortunately, the crucial performance of the film is fantastic. Danny Trejo truly embodies the role of Machete. You sense the dangerous abilities of his character right off the bat and is genuinly intimidating (possibly even more so if you are aware of Trejo's early-in-life criminal background). This is the role Trejo has been waiting his entire career to play, and it's a shame that he's had to wait so long.
Rodriguez has once again flawlessly pulled off the look and feel of classic exploitation films. But a lot of the success comes from the absurdity. There's tongue-in-cheek humour abound throughout the film: from over the top performances (look out for Jeff Fahey) to cartoonish violence. The violence is incredibly over the top in basic Rodriguez fashion, but one scene in particular is going to stick with audiences as one of the best kills in movie history. Hint: you'll never guess what Machete uses to repel from one window to another.
However, one of my disappointments with the film is that it doesn't maintain it's level of absurdity. Like with the violence: that window jumping scene is pretty early in the film, and that's about as good as it gets. There are pleny of opportunities to do more obsurd things in just as graphic of detail, but it doesn't follow through. For the last half of the film we mostly just get a lot of gunshot deaths and typical stabbing deaths. And once we get to the final showdown between Trejo and Seagal we are given a half-assed duel between two lumbering thugs (partially due to the fact that Seagal has REALLY let himself go). You need escalation in a movie like this, and you need an epic death for the final badguy: maybe cut open Seagal's gut and let the stomach acids burn him alive; or kick him so hard in the belly he craps out his intestines; or slice out Seagal's guts and make him eat his own stomach. Are you getting the message: Steven Seagal is REALLY fat.
But no, in the end Seagal just gives up and performs seppuku... as in he haphazardly disembowels himself. That just sucks, a hero like Machete deserves his awesome one-liner before the epic finish.
Also, because the entire film was made around the trailer in Grindhouse (and re-uses some of the footage) there's more than a handful of small continuity errors and non-sequitor scenes. For example, Cheech Marin's shotgun-wielding Catholic Priest character observes a group of armed men entering his church. He begins the scene inside the church, but then it cuts to him outside pulling out his two shotguns, dispatching a single henchman (with one of my favorite action movie one-liners ever) and then non-chalantly goes back inside the church for the rest of the scene.
Still, an excellent job has been done with this film. Machete will make you laugh, cheer, and stare in awe. Get out there and watch it.
Production Value: 8/10
Entertainment Value: 8/10
Overall Value: 8/10
Now we have Machete, which is based off of one of the fake B-movie trailers in Grindhouse (which I found to be the most fun) and Rodriguez shows us once again that he's still top-dog when it comes to A-movie Direction with a B-movie concept. The film follows the title character, Machete (played by long time second-fiddle Danny Trejo) who was a legendary federale until his family were murdered by a Mexican druglord (strangely played by Steven Seagal). He seeks refuge across the border, looking for simple jobs to make ends meet. Then one day he is hired to assasinate a racist Texas Senator (Robert De Niro) who is pushing for stronger emmigration enforcement. However, Machete is double crossed in a high level political conspiracy to gain the voters approval of stricter emmigration laws. Unfortunately for said conspirators, "they just fucked with the wrong Mexican."
Yep, this is a supposedly mindless action movie based around a current hot-button issue. Let me reassure you, Machete has definitely got some things to say and some viewpoints to express (racism, scapegoating, vigilantism, immigration, etc.) but none of that takes hold of the movie. If you want to turn your brain off and just enjoy it, the film will certainly still work for you. Sure it's got messages and ideas, but we're never asked to take it too serieously. However, I'd say it's worth listening a bit to what it has to tell.
I have to say the acting is a mixed bag, unfortunately. I understand that part of the feel of these types of films is the off-color acting (looking at you Alba and Lohan) but I'd rather have good actors giving "bad" performances on purpose (Jeff Fahey) than bad actors giving bad performances (Seagal) because that's just what they do. There's a fine line between emulating a bad job and simply doing a bad job. It's really hit-or-miss with the supporting cast: Cheech Marin, Jeff Fahey, Don Johnson, and of course Robert De Niro are all spot-on; but Jessica Alba, Lindsay Lohan, and Steven Seagal are (predictably) not up to the task. And then there's Michelle Rodriguez, who seems to think that to be a strong female role model she has to act like a man (but have a vagina) and continues her recent career path of doing neither a good job or a bad job. Fortunately, the crucial performance of the film is fantastic. Danny Trejo truly embodies the role of Machete. You sense the dangerous abilities of his character right off the bat and is genuinly intimidating (possibly even more so if you are aware of Trejo's early-in-life criminal background). This is the role Trejo has been waiting his entire career to play, and it's a shame that he's had to wait so long.
Rodriguez has once again flawlessly pulled off the look and feel of classic exploitation films. But a lot of the success comes from the absurdity. There's tongue-in-cheek humour abound throughout the film: from over the top performances (look out for Jeff Fahey) to cartoonish violence. The violence is incredibly over the top in basic Rodriguez fashion, but one scene in particular is going to stick with audiences as one of the best kills in movie history. Hint: you'll never guess what Machete uses to repel from one window to another.
However, one of my disappointments with the film is that it doesn't maintain it's level of absurdity. Like with the violence: that window jumping scene is pretty early in the film, and that's about as good as it gets. There are pleny of opportunities to do more obsurd things in just as graphic of detail, but it doesn't follow through. For the last half of the film we mostly just get a lot of gunshot deaths and typical stabbing deaths. And once we get to the final showdown between Trejo and Seagal we are given a half-assed duel between two lumbering thugs (partially due to the fact that Seagal has REALLY let himself go). You need escalation in a movie like this, and you need an epic death for the final badguy: maybe cut open Seagal's gut and let the stomach acids burn him alive; or kick him so hard in the belly he craps out his intestines; or slice out Seagal's guts and make him eat his own stomach. Are you getting the message: Steven Seagal is REALLY fat.
But no, in the end Seagal just gives up and performs seppuku... as in he haphazardly disembowels himself. That just sucks, a hero like Machete deserves his awesome one-liner before the epic finish.
Also, because the entire film was made around the trailer in Grindhouse (and re-uses some of the footage) there's more than a handful of small continuity errors and non-sequitor scenes. For example, Cheech Marin's shotgun-wielding Catholic Priest character observes a group of armed men entering his church. He begins the scene inside the church, but then it cuts to him outside pulling out his two shotguns, dispatching a single henchman (with one of my favorite action movie one-liners ever) and then non-chalantly goes back inside the church for the rest of the scene.
Still, an excellent job has been done with this film. Machete will make you laugh, cheer, and stare in awe. Get out there and watch it.
Production Value: 8/10
Entertainment Value: 8/10
Overall Value: 8/10
Doctor Who (Pros and) Cons
I first started watching the new series of Doctor Who at the beginning of the 4th season. I was hooked and immediately went back and watched the first three seasons so I could be caught up before the BIG season 4 finale. I didn't think it was the pinnacle of modern television, but it was certainly fun and had a lot of big ideas floating around.
That being said, I became even more excited about the 5th season when it was announced that Stephen Moffat, a writer who wrote literally all my favorite episodes in the first 4 seasons, would be replacing Russel T. Davies as head writer and Executive Producer. While I must give Russel T. Davies the credit for literally reviving the series, I can't bring myself to genuinely like the episodes he wrote, nor the aesthetic decisions he controlled as Ex. Producer. I am constantly finding things that don't quite make sense (beyond the science aspect) and thinking of things I wish he would have done instead.
It really hit me as I was rewatching the 2nd season finale earlier tonight (and It's why I'm writing this). I had numerous complaints about how it was wrapped up (even more so because I now know what has happened in the series since).
My first critical eyebrow twitch came at an exchange of dialogue between the two main enemies of the episode: the Cybermen and the Daleks. The exchange is as follows:
Cyberman: Our technology is compatiable; although your design is less elegant.
Dalek: Daleks have no concept of elegance!
Cyberman: This is obvious.
Is it just me, or does this sound like two drag queens trading insults of their outfits? It seems that way to me for two reasons: 1, I don't think such hostile species like Cybermen or Daleks would bother trading insults in the first place; 2, Russel T. Davies is known to be a very liberal homosexual who sometimes tries a little too hard to slip in his opinions into a children's television show.
Davies has continually tried to slip in his liberal (and in some ways, very weird) views into both Doctor Who and the spin-off called Torchwood (much more so in the latter). One thing that is very easy to notice is that nearly every romantic pairing is either mixed race or something other than a heterosexual relationship. Davies had commented on this saying that he wanted the show to be more progressive in it's portrayal of human relations. But personally, I think the way he does it actually makes these ideas cheaper and is actually more harmful than he thinks. I believe when you have to consciously decide "there must more racial diversity" you're really only adding to the problem. It's best to hire the people who are right for the job, race and ethnicity should be an afterthought (or not even a thought at all) as it only strengthens the idea that we are different and that those differences can be exploited.
Relationships like the one between Rose (white girl) and Mickey (black guy) is never given any reason for being. Once the Doctor comes along Rose completely forgets about him. Donna Noble is shown to be in two relationships in the course of the series, both to black men. Now I could understand that if it were a character trait ("she has a thing for dark meat") But in the back of my mind I'm always thinking "she doesn't really seem to like either of the men she dates: she's simply infatuated with the first and is actually quite demanding and critical of the second." What makes this idea even more damning is when it shows what happens to companion Martha Jones in the finale of the 4 season special episode "The End of Time." Earlier in season 4 (and even season 3 of Torchwood) Martha is said to be engaged to a man named Thomas Milligan (who is never shown onscreen) but she is shown in "The End of Time" to have randomly married Mickey. What are the odds that the only two significant black characters (who have never been shown to have met) would end up together? I don't know, but it seems truly pointless. It could have been said that they were merely business partners in alien hunting and Martha was married to Thomas. This nonsensical pairing actually seems to suggest that "black people should stick to marrying other black people... just because."
Davies also seems to be convinced that everybody can be turned into a homosexual. While this idea doesn't really come up in Doctor Who (other than a brief joke about Shakespeare's sexuality) it runs rampant in the spin-off Torchwood. Every main character in that series has some kind of homosexual experience at one point. While two are straight characters who wind up in these circumstances completely by accident and with little choice to the contrary, two other characters literally change their sexual orientation at some point. A character named Tosh becomes a lesbian after being seduced by a female alien (I don't care that it was an alien, they had sex involving two female bodies). Then another character (Ianto) transforms from a whiney emo who (literally) never stops thinking about his dead girlfriend into a gay man who takes every chance he has to get it on with the 5th main character Jack Harkness (who is an "omnisexual" man from the 51st century). This seems to suggest that being homosexual or heterosexual is a choice that we all make at some point. I have a problem with this because it lends credence to those jackass religious zealots who say they can "reprogram" your gay children to be straight.
But back to the episode I was originally speaking about: Doomsday. The ending involves the Doctor sending the Daleks and Cybermen into the Void between dimensions with Rose, Jackie (her mother), and Mickey ending up in an alternate universe in which Rose's dad (Pete) is still alive and seems to be the secret ruler/protector of the world. A major plotpoint of the two part episode is Rose narrating the beginning with the teaser: "This is the story of how I died." Even when I first saw these episodes I didn't believe she was going to die. "They'll find some way around it so they can keep the character in the back catalogue in case they ever need her again." And what do you know, I was right.
While I didn't really want Rose to die (although she is my least favorite companion) I thought it would have been an incredibly powerful moment for the series as well as for the Doctor himself if she had. If you've seen the episode, think back to when Rose almost fell into the Void with the Daleks and Cybermen. The Doctor continually refers to it as Hell. Now, think back even further to when The Doctor tries to explain how the other Universes exist. He says "Each decision we make creates a completely new reality," meaning every little choice we make can have huge consequences not just for us, but the entire world/Universe. Now, think back to when Jackie is reunited with her husband Pete from the other Universe (the one she knew had died before Rose was born). It's a sweet reunion until they all make the move to teleport to the other Universe for safety (knowing that they can never use the teleport technology as it is ripping holes in the two Universes) and Rose decides to stay behind in our Universe while Jackie is stopped by Pete from going after her. Jackie breaks down in tears at the idea of her family being forever destroyed simply because Rose decided to go back to the Doctor. Now bring all that information together with the idea that Rose actually falls into the Void, into Hell with the Daleks and Cybermen. Jackie is forever stranded in the alternate Universe with a man she may or may not really love. And the Doctor is forced to reflect upon his responsibilities for his companions. ALL because of simple choices that you wouldn't have thought could have had such an impact at the time. His carelessness and Rose's dependency on him got her sent to "Hell." Personally I think this could have given much more substance to how the Doctor treats his companions, whom he always seems to think will be perfectly fine no matter what manner of dangerous situation they're in.
Plus, with the 4th series we were always teased with the idea of Rose coming back. She showed up in the background of several episodes until the series finale... in which she does basically nothing. She just shows up on the scene with a big ass laser gun (seriously, what is it with sci-fi weapons being so big and cumbersome you'd need to be the Incredible Hulk to properly aim them?) and then basically stands around for the entire final episode.
Don't even get me started on the escalation of the first 4 season finales, but in brief:
1. Daleks want to conquer the Universe... okay, good start
2. Daleks/Cybermen want to conquer Earth... seems like a step backwards...
3. The Master wants to conquer Earth... not a step forward, but hey, a new enemy
4. Daleks want to destroy Existence itself... okay, that's pretty big, but what's the point?
All in all, I'm quite happy that the newest series is in the control of Steven Moffat for the forseeable future. You know you truly love something when you can enjoy it but poke fun at it as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Do-wDPoC6GM
That being said, I became even more excited about the 5th season when it was announced that Stephen Moffat, a writer who wrote literally all my favorite episodes in the first 4 seasons, would be replacing Russel T. Davies as head writer and Executive Producer. While I must give Russel T. Davies the credit for literally reviving the series, I can't bring myself to genuinely like the episodes he wrote, nor the aesthetic decisions he controlled as Ex. Producer. I am constantly finding things that don't quite make sense (beyond the science aspect) and thinking of things I wish he would have done instead.
It really hit me as I was rewatching the 2nd season finale earlier tonight (and It's why I'm writing this). I had numerous complaints about how it was wrapped up (even more so because I now know what has happened in the series since).
My first critical eyebrow twitch came at an exchange of dialogue between the two main enemies of the episode: the Cybermen and the Daleks. The exchange is as follows:
Cyberman: Our technology is compatiable; although your design is less elegant.
Dalek: Daleks have no concept of elegance!
Cyberman: This is obvious.
Is it just me, or does this sound like two drag queens trading insults of their outfits? It seems that way to me for two reasons: 1, I don't think such hostile species like Cybermen or Daleks would bother trading insults in the first place; 2, Russel T. Davies is known to be a very liberal homosexual who sometimes tries a little too hard to slip in his opinions into a children's television show.
Davies has continually tried to slip in his liberal (and in some ways, very weird) views into both Doctor Who and the spin-off called Torchwood (much more so in the latter). One thing that is very easy to notice is that nearly every romantic pairing is either mixed race or something other than a heterosexual relationship. Davies had commented on this saying that he wanted the show to be more progressive in it's portrayal of human relations. But personally, I think the way he does it actually makes these ideas cheaper and is actually more harmful than he thinks. I believe when you have to consciously decide "there must more racial diversity" you're really only adding to the problem. It's best to hire the people who are right for the job, race and ethnicity should be an afterthought (or not even a thought at all) as it only strengthens the idea that we are different and that those differences can be exploited.
Relationships like the one between Rose (white girl) and Mickey (black guy) is never given any reason for being. Once the Doctor comes along Rose completely forgets about him. Donna Noble is shown to be in two relationships in the course of the series, both to black men. Now I could understand that if it were a character trait ("she has a thing for dark meat") But in the back of my mind I'm always thinking "she doesn't really seem to like either of the men she dates: she's simply infatuated with the first and is actually quite demanding and critical of the second." What makes this idea even more damning is when it shows what happens to companion Martha Jones in the finale of the 4 season special episode "The End of Time." Earlier in season 4 (and even season 3 of Torchwood) Martha is said to be engaged to a man named Thomas Milligan (who is never shown onscreen) but she is shown in "The End of Time" to have randomly married Mickey. What are the odds that the only two significant black characters (who have never been shown to have met) would end up together? I don't know, but it seems truly pointless. It could have been said that they were merely business partners in alien hunting and Martha was married to Thomas. This nonsensical pairing actually seems to suggest that "black people should stick to marrying other black people... just because."
Davies also seems to be convinced that everybody can be turned into a homosexual. While this idea doesn't really come up in Doctor Who (other than a brief joke about Shakespeare's sexuality) it runs rampant in the spin-off Torchwood. Every main character in that series has some kind of homosexual experience at one point. While two are straight characters who wind up in these circumstances completely by accident and with little choice to the contrary, two other characters literally change their sexual orientation at some point. A character named Tosh becomes a lesbian after being seduced by a female alien (I don't care that it was an alien, they had sex involving two female bodies). Then another character (Ianto) transforms from a whiney emo who (literally) never stops thinking about his dead girlfriend into a gay man who takes every chance he has to get it on with the 5th main character Jack Harkness (who is an "omnisexual" man from the 51st century). This seems to suggest that being homosexual or heterosexual is a choice that we all make at some point. I have a problem with this because it lends credence to those jackass religious zealots who say they can "reprogram" your gay children to be straight.
But back to the episode I was originally speaking about: Doomsday. The ending involves the Doctor sending the Daleks and Cybermen into the Void between dimensions with Rose, Jackie (her mother), and Mickey ending up in an alternate universe in which Rose's dad (Pete) is still alive and seems to be the secret ruler/protector of the world. A major plotpoint of the two part episode is Rose narrating the beginning with the teaser: "This is the story of how I died." Even when I first saw these episodes I didn't believe she was going to die. "They'll find some way around it so they can keep the character in the back catalogue in case they ever need her again." And what do you know, I was right.
While I didn't really want Rose to die (although she is my least favorite companion) I thought it would have been an incredibly powerful moment for the series as well as for the Doctor himself if she had. If you've seen the episode, think back to when Rose almost fell into the Void with the Daleks and Cybermen. The Doctor continually refers to it as Hell. Now, think back even further to when The Doctor tries to explain how the other Universes exist. He says "Each decision we make creates a completely new reality," meaning every little choice we make can have huge consequences not just for us, but the entire world/Universe. Now, think back to when Jackie is reunited with her husband Pete from the other Universe (the one she knew had died before Rose was born). It's a sweet reunion until they all make the move to teleport to the other Universe for safety (knowing that they can never use the teleport technology as it is ripping holes in the two Universes) and Rose decides to stay behind in our Universe while Jackie is stopped by Pete from going after her. Jackie breaks down in tears at the idea of her family being forever destroyed simply because Rose decided to go back to the Doctor. Now bring all that information together with the idea that Rose actually falls into the Void, into Hell with the Daleks and Cybermen. Jackie is forever stranded in the alternate Universe with a man she may or may not really love. And the Doctor is forced to reflect upon his responsibilities for his companions. ALL because of simple choices that you wouldn't have thought could have had such an impact at the time. His carelessness and Rose's dependency on him got her sent to "Hell." Personally I think this could have given much more substance to how the Doctor treats his companions, whom he always seems to think will be perfectly fine no matter what manner of dangerous situation they're in.
Plus, with the 4th series we were always teased with the idea of Rose coming back. She showed up in the background of several episodes until the series finale... in which she does basically nothing. She just shows up on the scene with a big ass laser gun (seriously, what is it with sci-fi weapons being so big and cumbersome you'd need to be the Incredible Hulk to properly aim them?) and then basically stands around for the entire final episode.
Don't even get me started on the escalation of the first 4 season finales, but in brief:
1. Daleks want to conquer the Universe... okay, good start
2. Daleks/Cybermen want to conquer Earth... seems like a step backwards...
3. The Master wants to conquer Earth... not a step forward, but hey, a new enemy
4. Daleks want to destroy Existence itself... okay, that's pretty big, but what's the point?
All in all, I'm quite happy that the newest series is in the control of Steven Moffat for the forseeable future. You know you truly love something when you can enjoy it but poke fun at it as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Do-wDPoC6GM
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