When we think about This is the End, we think about actors playing warped versions of themselves. Frankly, actors have been playing themselves for quite some time: John Malkovich in Being John Malkovich, Bill Murray in Zombieland, Jean-Claude van Damme in JCVD. But celebrity self-reflexivity has hit an all-time high with This is the End; all the actors play themselves in name only, and the twisted caricatures of the actors make up the entire runtime of the film.
The twenty-first century is undoubtedly the "age of superheroes," where the comic book heroes of the 1950s and 1960s have returned in the form of transmedia titans. From video games to breakfast cereals, the kids of yesterday have become the artists of today. Reading comics isn't enough anymore -- we want to live like superheroes too. Superhero movies have evolved all the same; the genre has blossomed from its wholesome beginnings into a viable means of artistic ingenuity. Just look at the Batman franchise, switching between Gothic horror, camp, and realism with each passing director. Christopher Nolan, the man behind the gritty The Dark Knight trilogy, returns to make Warner Bros. and DC Comics another fortune with this year's most anticipated summer blockbuster, Man of Steel. With tech-whiz Zack Snyder as director and frequent collaborator David S. Goyer as the lead writer, Nolan aims to turn Superman, the world's most iconic comic book hero, into a box-office binge.
Whenever I want to talk about Fight Club, I always get the same response. "Remember the first two rules, man. You don't talk about Fight Club." I get it: breaking the rules is the same as ruining the movie. But with people starting their own fight clubs and urban terrorist groups, audiences need to be reminded that Fight Club is a satire. We're not supposed to desire the life of a self-destructive, nomadic cultist; we're not supposed to deny the ambition and desperation that makes us human. That being said, Fight Club is arguably my favorite movie of all time, for better or for worse. Those of you that know me personally are probably groaning, since I talk about this film far too often. Film scholars are probably rolling their eyes, since this film is usually the subject of macho eroticism. But hear me out, because this is the last time I will ever bring up Fight Club for philosophical discussion.
I find it hard to imagine anyone willing to keep their artistic careers small. Audiences tend to be unforgiving, and expect what little work an artist produces to be representative of his/her talents. The legendary Impressionist painter, Henri Matisse, once said: "I was very embarrassed when my canvases began to fetch high prices. I saw myself condemned to a future of painting nothing but masterpieces." Filmmakers are no different. Derek Cianfrance is the writer and director of The Place Beyond the Pines, Brother Tied and Blue Valentine. Though he has made a handful of short films and documentaries, Cianfrance's limited credentials force audiences to compare his latest movie with the well-received Blue Valentine, drawing both praise and disappointment.
Nick Carraway, of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, describes Baz Luhrmann's attempt at adaptation the best: "I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life." Baz Luhrmann is primarily remembered for revitalizing old stories (Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge!), or simply butchering classics depending on how you see it. This year, Luhrmann tries his hand at directing one of America's most timeless novels, writing the script with frequent collaborator Craig Pearce. The film was released a couple weeks ago to mixed reviews, ranging between satisfactory and downright appalling. Just as the famous quote from the book suggests, Luhrmann makes an awkwardly double-sided film which is as visually engrossing as it is thematically flawed.
Between compliments to Robert Downey Jr. and unrest about fidelity to source material, there's been a lot of buzz regarding Iron Man 3. Is the movie good or bad? Personally, I love it, even though every bone in my body suggests that I shouldn't. If for anything else, Iron Man 3 is... clever. In particular, it is clever in its craft, not simply in its one-liners and "plot devices" *snicker*. As an audience, we walk into the theater expecting a fusion of man and machine in an action-adventure spectacular; by the end credits, the film has morphed our definition of what Iron Man really is.
