A Wrinkle in Time

Grade: C –

Director: Ava DuVernay

Starring: Storm Reid, Oprah Winfrey, Reese Witherspoon, Mindy Kaling, Levi Miller, Deric McCabe, Chris Pine, and Zach Galifianakis

MPAA Rating: PG

Running Time: 1 hr. 49 min.

In A Wrinkle in Time, it’s said that the art of “tessering,” essentially an interdimensional zipline through time and space, is “a matter of finding the right frequency.” Sadly, that’s a feat director Ava DuVernay fails to accomplish, as her adaptation of Madeleine L'Engle’s acclaimed 1962 science fantasy novel is a tonal and thematic mess. It’s a rotating series MS Windows screensavers, strung together by the labored delivery of leaden dialogue that intones hollow self-affirmations and mundane mantras ostensibly centered around love, insecurities, individuality, and whatever other YA hot topic springs to mind.

Middle-schooler Meg Murry (Storm Reid) is a nerdy, morose southern California teen, withdrawn from school and social life since her astrophysicist dad, Alex (Chris Pine), mysteriously vanished four years ago. Out of the blue, Meg and her adopted brother Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe) are visited by a trio of astral travelers: Mrs. Whatsit (Reese Witherspoon), Mrs. Who (Mindy Kaling), and Mrs. Which (Oprah Winfrey). The three promise to teleport Meg, Charles Wallace, and Meg’s friend Calvin (Levi Miller) across the universe to find Alex using a tesseract, a fifth-dimensional phenomenon explained as being similar to folding the fabric of space and time.

The questions instantly abound, most of them born out of the story’s slipshod attention to development and almost all of them never answered. Who is Calvin and why did he appear to tag along? Who are the Mrs. and how did they come about? Why is Alex being held captive (although not really), and why can’t the all-powerful Mrs. just retrieve Alex for Meg and Charles Wallace? What is the villain de jour, an embodiment of evil called the “IT,” where did it come from, and what exactly does it do?

Reid acquits herself well with her aching portrayal of teenage reclusion, armed with an opaque expression and far-off gaze. The rest of the cast ranges from inert (Miller) to grating (McCabe). Winfrey manages to exude a modicum of emotion and gravitas through her bedazzled makeup. Meanwhile, Whatsit is the sort of sprite Witherspoon would be perfect to play … 20 or so years ago. Both Witherspoon and Kaling’s quippy lines land like anvils, and their would-be whimsy is undercut by the curious lack of pace and timing in DuVernay’s direction and Spencer Averick’s editing. Indeed, blatant acute camera angles and editing tricks do little to camouflage the jarringly poor visual effects.

A Wrinkle in Time further suffers by excessive videlity to its source novel. While that may please fans of the book, the script plows through wholesale passages of lifted dialogue with almost dreary duty. Meanwhile, certain sequences—such as the cul-de-sac scene on Camazotz—are dropped in with little explanation about their relevance or place in the overall tableau.

One notable departure from the book is that most of its oft-analyzed Christian themes have been excised from the film. That may widen the movie’s potential reach. But without those religious references and accompanying philosophical underpinning, A Wrinkle in Time’s internal logic becomes muddled. Is the tesseract strictly a physical phenomenon, some ephemeral conduit for good and evil, or both? Is this joyride across the cosmos a journey to meet our maker, or just a bunch of meddlesome beings? Instead of learning about our place in the universe, Meg’s intergalactic journey turns into one big walkabout on the way to learning she could become the next Madam Curie or Maya Angelou. That’s great for Meg. For everyone else, this Wrinkle in Time leaves a furrowed brow.

The Finest Hours

Is somebody going to help me carry this movie?

Grade: C +

Director: Chris Gillespie

Starring: Chris Pine, Holliday Grainger, Casey Affleck, Ben Foster, Kyle Gallner and Eric Bana

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hr. 57. min.

It’s always jarring while watching the Turner Classic Movies network to stumble across an old film populated by a cast steeped in traditional stage acting, yet with one young outlier emoting Method, Meisner or some other modern acting technique—think the early films of Montgomery Clift, Marlon Brando and Gregory Peck.

At the risk of overstatement, a similar sensation washed over me seeing Casey Affleck in The Finest Hours, based on Michael J. Tougias and Casey Sherman’s book chronicling the true story of a daring Coast Guard rescue off the coast of Massachusetts in 1952.

On February 19 of that year, two oil tankers, the SS Fort Mercer and SS Pendleton, were split in two by a fierce nor'easter. The film focuses on the Pendleton rescue by a Coast Guard lifeboat out of Chatham, Massachusetts. Directed by Chris Gillespie, the narrative oscillates between the rescuers, led by coxswain Bernie Webber (Chris Pine), and the survival efforts by the Pendleton crew, a fractious lot held together by assistant engineer Ray Sybert (Affleck) striving to keep the stern section of the ship afloat long enough for help to arrive.

The fractured screenplay never gels its three fronts, which also includes Webber’s fretting but resolute fiance Miriam (Holliday Grainger) alongside some inexplicably neurotic townsfolk back on the mainland. Meanwhile, the rest of the “Coast Gaahd” crew grapple with dueling bad accents, from Pine and Ben Foster’s warbly Boston brogue to Eric Bana as Chief Warrant Officer Daniel Cluff, whose Virginia-born drawl seemingly takes a detour through backwoods Alabama. Indeed, the overall portrayal of Cluff is thorny, as the decorated WWII boatswain is cast as stubborn and uninformed during an ill-fitting face-off with Miriam for ordering Webber and his crew on their treacherous rescue mission.

Amongst it all, Affleck appears to be occupying in an entirely different, better movie, far from the amber-soaked, saccharine performances of Pine, Grainger and the rest of the cast. While everyone else dutifully recites their uninspired dialogue, Affleck proceeds at his own pace and cadence. In the process, he somehow crafts a fully formed character.

Gillespie’s GGI visuals are suitably harrowing in a Perfect Storm sort of way. But The Finest Hours is at its finest only when Affleck is on-screen. Unfortunately, that’s not long enough.

Into the Woods

It's OK, dear ... I'm still getting an

Oscar nomination out of this.

Into the Woods

Grade: D

Director: Rob Marshall

Starring: Anna Kendrick, Emily Blunt, James Corden, Chris Pine, Meryl Streep, Johnny Depp, Mackenzie Mauzy,  Billy Magnussen, Lilla Crawford and Daniel Huttlestone

MPAA Rating: PG

Running Time: 2 hr. 4 min.

It’s not homage to the foreboding Grimms’ Fairy Tales creeping into Into the Woods that makes this musical mash-up an excruciating experience. While Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella are regarded as classic children’s literature, it’s forgotten that the subject matter of these and other Brothers Grimm stories are quite dark and violent—in the original Snow White, the Queen, Snow White’s actual mother, wants her daughter killed so she can eat her liver and lungs.

Instead, it’s a schlocky plot that’s further jumbled by unsavory plot turns to both preserve and limit the onscreen body count. It’s the unremarkable Stephen Sondheim soundtrack that provides just one memorable song, “Agony,” a duet between preening princes. But mostly it’s just a rapey, murdery mess that’s neither pleasant nor poignant.

Director Rob Marshall (having long since blown his Chicago credit) ties together the stories of Rapunzel and Jack and the Beanstalk with Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood. The narrative lynchpin is a Baker (James Corden, heir to “The Late Late Show” after Craig Ferguson departs) and his wife (Emily Blunt), who are cursed with infertility by the village Witch (Meryl Streep) unless they can deliver a quartet of objects to the Witch in three days’ time to break her spell. The four items are the slipper of Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), the cowl of Little Red Riding Hood (Lilla Crawford), the flaxen locks of Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy) and a white cow belonging to Jack (Daniel Huttlestone, last seen playing the French boy who croons with a cockney accent in Les Misérables).

The fable meanders through its mundane paces, including a detour down the gullet of the Big Bad Wolf (Johnny Depp). Its off-beat interpretations of the classic fairy tales are convivial enough. But once Jack, having pilfered one too many items from the Giant, chops down the beanstalk and kills the colossus, it causes the Giant’s wife climbing down to exact vengeance on Jack and the kingdom.

It’s here where Into the Woods transforms from tedious to terrible. One character dies at the hands of another character for no discernable reason. Then there’s an out-of-left-field act of infidelity that triggers the equally sudden, misogynistic demise of only the female wrongdoer. Adding to the confusion and literary cowardice, all these deaths occur off-screen, while one character who dies in the stage musical is spared, since I guess two deaths are plenty.

However, the film’s true crime is its hamfisted attempt to blend the fantastic with real-life lessons about pain and responsibilities. The clash of tones ill-fitting narratives is jarring, and the already off-putting plot is made more confusing by some selective sanitizing. If you venture Into the Woods, you’re liable to become a supporter of deforestation.

Horrible Bosses 2

Worst (or best?) episode of "Friends" ever

Grade: C –

Director: Sean Anders

Starring: Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis, Charlie Day, Chris Pine, Christoph Waltz, Jennifer Aniston, Jamie Foxx and Kevin Spacey

MPAA Rating: R

Running Time: 1 hr. 48 min.

There’s a not-so-fine line between pushing the comedic envelope and blind bad taste. When Jennifer Aniston’s character in Horrible Bosses 2 graphically fantasizes about two 14-year-old boys having sex at camp, it’s a wince-inducing moment that’s hard to walk back.

Perhaps the pubescent parable by Aniston’s sex-obsessed dentist Julia Harris could have been shoved out of our synapses if it took place in isolation. However, Horrible Bosses 2 is a film that opens with an onanistic sight gag and the three lead characters’ names—Nick, Kurt and Dale—being unwittingly conflated into a racial slur, and it closes with Harris expressing her predilection for somnophilia.

In-between are repeated rape references and racial stereotypes. But every sidelong N-word is OK since there’s always a character of color around to chastise it, right? And when a rich prick demeans his Asian housekeeper, the film’s idea of balance is when she secretly soils the boss’ toothbrush with her backside.

The fault lies squarely with writer-director Sean Anders, brought in to replace Seth Gordon, who helmed the surprisingly successful original about three put-upon pals who plot to kill their overbearing bosses. Anders’ most recent directorial credit was the reprehensible Adam Sandler vehicle That’s My Boy, and he was last seen helping sully the screenplays for Dumb and Dumber To, We’re the Millers and Mr. Popper’s Penguins.

Even the film’s title is now a misnomer. Nick (Jason Bateman), Kurt (Jason Sudeikis) and Dale (Charlie Day) have escaped the clutches of their day-job drudgery to launch a start-up manufacturing an invention named “The Shower Buddy.” But after sinking all their fortunes into churning out thousands of their ablution aids, Bert Hanson (Christoph Waltz), the product’s exclusive millionaire retailer, reneges on their deal in order to acquire the trio’s invention on the cheap once their business goes belly-up.

To save their shirts and company, Nick, Kurt and Dale decide to kidnap Rex (Chris Pine), Hanson’s preening son, and hold him for ransom. The half-baked plot becomes more hairbrained once Rex blackmails the guys into letting him join the scheme in exchange for a handsome share of the money.

The snappy comic chemistry that made the first Horrible Bosses a hit is still there: Sudeikis the horndog oaf, Bateman the slow-burn straight man, and Day the manic mouthmouth. Pine acquits himself well even though his spoiled brat with daddy’s issues seems to be operating on another narrative plain. But Waltz was actually funnier in Django Unchained, and the presence of Jonathan Banks as a police detective only reminded me how I hated the way Mike died in Breaking Bad.

Indeed, it’s telling that anytime the film needs a shot in the arm, it recalls the supporting cast from the first film. Kevin Spacey has a grand ‘ole profane time as a now-jailed Dave Harden, but it’s Jamie Foxx who steals every scene reprising “MF” Jones, a hardened street hood who harbors hopes of opening a Pinkberry franchise.

Unfortunately, Horrible Bosses 2’s sporadic chuckles never congeal into a memorable whole. And with its barrage of gay gags and other egregious overtones, that’s probably for the best.

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit

Hi, I'm the apparition of a better spy thriller

Grade: C

Director: Kenneth Branagh

Starring: Chris Pine, Keira Knightley, Kevin Costner and Kenneth Branagh

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hr. 45 min.

That Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit is a David Koepp rewrite of a screenplay once doctored by Steve Zaillian portends the inscrutable nature of this reboot of the Tom Clancy spy series. Directed by Kenneth Branagh—who also features as the Ruskie baddie—the film gets mired between its desire to fashion a faithful thriller yet update its titular spy for modern times. The result is a muddled, middling redux that’s more Jack Ryan: Shadow of His Former Self.

A post-9/11 Army recruit, a chopper crash leaves Jack (Chris Pine) near death and convalescing at Walter Reed under the encouragement of wife-in-waiting Nurse Cathy (Keira Knightley). CIA headhunter Thomas Harper (Kevin Costner) “sees something” in Jack and plucks him from rehab to become a financial analyst. Embedded with a Wall Street firm, Jack is assigned to travel to Moscow and investigate the nefarious financial misdoings of Viktor Cherevin (Branagh), a James Bond-style villain with stage 3 cirrhosis and a weakness for wine and women. Seems the Russians want to crash the world’s financial markets—welcome to 1977.

This is the sort of film where untrained good guys outsmart diabolical bad guys for no logical reason beyond narrative progression. The contrivances are laced with shaky cam action sequences staged with the flair of b-roll footage and scored by the Action Muzak 1000.

At the center of this distended storyline is Pine, whose charmless Jack Ryan is a far cry from the portrayal of Alec Baldwin and Harrison Ford. A couple of scenes hint at the gritty thriller this could have been: a brutal brawl between Jack and an assassin in a hotel washroom, and when Viktor kidnaps Cathy and threatens to explode a light bulb inside her mouth. Alas, those moments of intrigue prove as fleeting as Knightley’s irregular American accent.

Star Trek Into Darkness

The Star Pack is Back

Grade: B -

Director: J.J. Abrams

Starring: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg, John Cho, Benedict Cumberbatch and Peter Weller

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 2 hr. 12 min.

The title Star Trek Into Darkness remains just as nebulous by the time the closing credits roll as it does during a chase prologue along the Class M Planet of Nibiru. Fortunately, director J.J. Abrams—who helmed the well-received 2009 reprise—inadvertently provides a number of alternate titles along the way. Into Darkness is the second installment of Star Trek’s look into yesteryear, the continuation of an alternate timeline created in Abrams’ previous film that chronicles the adventures of the fledgling crew of the Starship Enterprise.

Just call it Star Trek Babies II.

In essence, Into Darkness is really about the evolving relationship between Captain Jim Kirk (Chris Pine) and Spock (Zachary Quinto), although their bromance usually boils down to scenes like Kirk’s misty separation anxiety at the news that Spock is being reassigned to another ship, or Spock’s jealousy emotion being triggered when Kirk enlists the duplicative services of a beautiful, blond science officer (Alice Eve). What hampers any emotional heft, however, is the misapprehension that their relationship has always been about the characters, discounting the time-tested rapport developed between William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy.

That said, Pine and especially Quinto prove capable as Kirk, Spock, a more prominently featured Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and the rest of the crew face a threat from within. Starfleet officer-turned-terrorist John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a highly intelligent super soldier whose covert design goes sideways after he breaks loose from the moorings of his Federation minders.

Just call it Star Trek: The Wrath of Bourne.

Early on, Abrams hints at Star Trek’s longstanding political and social awareness with allegory critical of the current war on terror, including policies favoring indiscriminate hits on high-value targets and drone missile attacks. [Poor Klingons, formerly representative of the threat and decay of the Soviet Empire, are now stand-ins for Middle Eastern terrorists.] But any such high mindedness quickly evaporates in the fog of a script that is equally light-hearted and incomprehensible, along with a hellfire of 3D special effects and Abrams’ trademarks visual quirks.

Just call it Star Trek: Into Lens Flares.

Unlike the sublime mix of rediscovery and homage that fueled the 2009 reboot, Into Darkness eventually chokes on the umbilical cord tethered to its parental heritage. Trouble with a Tribble or one of a dozen “manual auxiliary rerouted power couplings” are cute enough. But homage soon crosses the line into unoriginality, from the choice of villain to the mashed-up tropes to a scene in the final act featuring such shameless aping that it converts the sacrosanct into self-parody.

Into Darkness is an entertaining retread that also feels like an elongated TV episode with a bigger budget and explosions that come at the expense of the series’ humanism. This next generation Star Trek is reworked and replicated for today’s generation of moviegoers.

Just call it Star Trek: Attack of the Clones.

Unstoppable

Quick, we have to stop this train before the hard drive crashes!

Grade: B

Director: Tony Scott

Starring: Denzel Washington, Chris Pine, Rosario Dawson, Kevin Dunn, Kevin Corrigan, and Lew Temple

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hour, 38 minutes

With a thundering sound mix drowned out only by the den of apposite popcorn-munching throughout the theater, Unstoppable is the quintessential example of a film that doesn’t try to be anything more than it is. An unmanned, half-mile-long freight train carrying thousands of gallons of hazardous phenol acid barrels through the Western Pennsylvania countryside at 70 mph, its destination the densely populated city of Stanton. It falls on two rail workers – veteran engineer Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington) and newbie conductor Will Colston (Chris Pine) – to chase down and stop the “coaster” before disaster hits.

Loosely based on the 2001 “Crazy Eights” unmanned train incident in Ohio, Director Tony Scott amplifies his typical camera-in-a-blender action sequences with depictions of frenzied media coverage – including swooping news choppers, filmed using other unseen choppers – and dubious corporate agendas being foiled by hardnosed track manager Connie Hooper (Rosario Dawson). And, Barnes and Colston are provided just enough back-story while riding the rails to feign character development.

Mostly, however, this is prototypical white-knuckle intensity that is slickly produced and – notwithstanding the pseudo-elephant trumpet that blares every time the runaway train rolls by – more reserved than Scott and Washington’s more recent collaborations, Man on Fire, Deja Vu, and The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3. Unstoppable fits the criteria of the sort of movie Max Cherry said he wanted to see in Jackie Brown: something that starts soon and looks good.

Neil Morris

Star Trek

One Trek Hill

Grade: B +

Director: J.J. Abrams

Starring: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Leonard Nimoy, Eric Bana, Bruce Greenwood, Karl Urban, Zoe Saldana, and Simon Pegg

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 2 hours, 6 minutes

I’ll give this to J.J. Abrams: I never thought I would hear the Beastie Boys in a Star Trek movie. Yet, as a pre-pubescent James T. Kirk improbably barrels down an Iowa byway behind the wheel of a vintage C2 Corvette convertible, cheating both death and the pursuing police, the unbridled strains of “Sabotage” just seem to fit, no matter the stardate.

With its Gen-Y tableau and whiz-bang F/X, this isn’t your father’s Star Trek. And, although it is set during the formative years of the crew of the Starship Enterprise, it is not strictly a prequel. Rather, it is an alternate timeline, visited by a Romulan marauder from the future named Nero (Eric Bana), who’s looking to exact revenge on the Federation and one particular native of Vulcan for failing to save Nero’s planet from destruction.

Still, the homage Abrams employs is more dedicated to the original Trek television series rather than the Trek films and The Next Generation series that Abrams felt “disconnected” from. There are the familiar chuckles about the accent of Chekov (Anton Yelchin) and the irascibility of Dr. ‘Bones’ McCoy (Karl Urban), along with such inside-Trekdom allusions as the fencing skills of Sulu (John Cho) and Kirk’s bedding of a green-skinned Orion cadet. Introducing a romantic dalliance between Spock and a young Nyota Uhura (Zoe Saldana) shrewdly illuminates her flirtations with him during a few early episodes of the original series. And, among the superlative casting, choosing Simon Pegg as a brash, uproarious Montgomery “Scotty” Scott proves particularly brilliant.

But, for screenwriters and longtime Abrams collaborators Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci, the story of Star Trek was always about Kirk and Spock. The early, uneasy years of their relationship are the backbone of this film as the ambitious, combative Kirk (Chris Pine, pitch-perfect) clashes with the cerebral, no-nonsense Spock (Zachary Quinto, ditto). Young Kirk’s goal is to occupy the captain’s chair, while Spock’s priority is keeping Kirk out of it, and even off the Enterprise altogether. The original Trek TV series launched during the Cold War and served up allegory for two conflicting approaches of American foreign policy: Kirk’s aggressive moralism versus Spock’s logical pragmatism. It is a dichotomy that has come full circle in our post-Sept. 11 world, although I would stop short of analogizing Kirk and Spock with George W. Bush and Barack Obama. Still, it’s fascinating that the ultimate resolution of their clash of ideologies and governing styles—and with it the crux of Star Trek’s storyline—lies in not just peaceful coexistence, but the necessity of Kirk’s accession to leader with Spock remaining the faithful, intelligent advisor.

The irony, however, is that despite Abrams’ faithful interpretation of the Trek universe, his film sizzles most when not mired in its iconography. The elaboration of Kirk’s and Spock’s boyhood roots is intriguing, including Winona Ryder as Spock’s mom (a role once played by Jane Wyatt). And, wider roles for Uhura and Capt. Christopher Pike (Bruce Greenwood) further this film’s goal of amplifying the Trek mythos.

But, the film’s most prominent cameo, 78-year-old Leonard Nimoy as an elder Spock, elicits both nostalgic glee and a whiff of musty air. Abrams walks a tightrope in trying to craft a fresh action movie that also appeals to Star Trek purists. The time-jumping (and hole-filled) plot, together with Nimoy’s appearance, go a long way toward accomplishing the latter while also allowing Abrams the leeway to deviate from the Trek canon, in this film as well as its inevitable sequels.

However, all symbolism aside, the Kirk/ Spock rapport has already been explored at considerable length during the first six Star Trek movies. More of the same is, well, more of the same. When Nimoy’s Spock introduces himself to the younger Kirk by reprising the declaration that “I have been and always shall be your friend,” it only made me want to watch The Wrath of Khan again.

The distinguishing feature is that Abrams, a clever and skilled filmmaker, understands how to make a rock-’em sock-’em piece of entertainment that can stand alone without its iconic underpinning. The action sequences are dazzling and fly toward the audience at warp speed, bolstered by a superb cast and the always-reliable Michael Giacchino’s exhilarating score. In short, Abrams boldly goes where no Trek movie has gone before, at least not since 1982. Set your phasers on “fun,” along with “impressed” and “relieved.”

Neil Morris

Bottle Shock

How do you get rid of your split ends?

Grade: C +

Director: Randall Miller

Starring: Chris Pine, Alan Rickman, Bill Pullman, Rachael Taylor, Freddy Rodriguez, and Dennis Farina

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hour, 50 minutes

Comparing the Napa-set dramedy Bottle Shock to Sideways would be like sipping boxed plonk after a quality pinot noir. There is probably a good movie to be made about the 1976 seminal Parisian wine tasting in which California’s upstart vineyards bested the finest French vintages. Unfortunately, writer-director Randall Miller’s watered-down script squanders a game cast and gorgeous scenery in this contrived trifle.

Subplots are cultivated only to quickly wither on the vine, such as a love triangle between a scruffy winery heir (Chris Pine), a Latino farmhand (Freddy Rodriguez), and a comely intern (Rachael Taylor). As English expatriate and struggling vintner Steven Spurrier, Alan Rickman gives the film’s standout performance, even if his repeated, near-orgasmic reactions to sampling everything from chardonnay to KFC grow tiresome. Indeed, this is a film in which a mere sip of fine cabernet sauvignon prompts instant lovemaking inside rickety shacks sitting atop vineyard vistas, and where one character attests “the smell of the vineyard is like inhaling birth.” Coming soon to a cable TV network near you.

Neil Morris