The Host

By John Mulderig, Catholic News Service

NEW YORK (CNS) — Derived from a novel by “Twilight” author Stephenie Meyer, the ponderous, dramatically inept science fiction tale “The Host” (Open Road) is clearly aimed at teen viewers. But the murky circumstances of its central love affair make it too morally obscure for most adolescents.

As for those in a more mature demographic, while they may be better equipped to discern an ethically acceptable path through it all, they may not want to bother.

This ill-conceived dystopian project rests on the premise that alien spirits have taken over the bodies of most human beings.

As the opening narrative informs us, these highly evolved hijackers, with their tranquil personalities, have managed to resolve most of humanity’s most pressing problems: war, world hunger, you name it. But, while they may be enlightened and unflappable, they also brook no opposition — just ask our youthful heroine Melanie Stryder (Saoirse Ronan).

Understandably unwilling to be transformed into an intergalactic Stepford wife, Melanie has been on the lam. But her fugitive days come to an abrupt end when she’s captured and subjected to the forced infusion of an extraterrestrial consciousness (visualized as a kind of luminous creepy-crawly surgically inserted into the back of Melanie’s neck).

Far from going quietly, however, spunky Melanie manages to retain her own soul through the process, much to the surprise of her new corporeal roommate, an entity called Wanderer. Here the fatal absurdity that undermines all that follows kicks in as Melanie and Wanderer begin an endless — frequently shrill — debate with each other via voice-over (Melanie) and dialogue (Wanderer).

The result might aptly be called “Sybil Meets the Body Snatchers.”

If only this were an old-fashioned Western, Wanderer could put us all out of our misery by declaring: “This body ain’t big enough for the both of us!” Instead, the increasingly sympathetic invader allows Melanie to convince her to return to, and aid, the band of earthlings with whom Melanie sheltered while on the run.

Led by folksy Uncle Jeb (William Hurt), these refugees include both Melanie’s long-standing boyfriend, Jared (Max Irons), and the lad destined to win Wanderer’s heart, Ian (Jake Abel). With two competing love interests, but only one mouth to kiss with, romantic complications — and more schizophrenic squabbling — inevitably ensue.

Flashbacks reveal that, before they came under Uncle Jeb’s protection, Melanie and Jared were living together as a couple and doing their best to rear Melanie’s kid brother, Jamie (Chandler Canterbury). The duo’s relationship became physical, we learn, at Melanie’s explicit invitation.

The extreme situation — talk about a clergy shortage! — may excuse this improvised marriage between two characters clearly destined to make their way into the sunset together. But, even so, immature movie-goers might easily be led astray by such a do-it-yourself approach to bonded bliss.

With Uncle Jeb, et al., struggling to trust Wanderer and Wanderer discovering some of the less savoury aspects of human nature, writer-director Andrew Niccol earnestly introduces honourable themes concerning tolerance, non-violence and altruism. But cavernous aesthetic flaws hopelessly undermine all his good intentions.

The film contains much action violence, fleeting gore, a suicide theme, cohabitation with brief semi-graphic sexual activity and a couple of crass terms.

 

Olympus Has Fallen

By John Mulderig, Catholic News Service

NEW YORK (CNS) — Every so often, Hollywood seems to feel the need to blow a familiar landmark to smithereens. In the frequently bloody action flick “Olympus Has Fallen” (FilmDistrict), it’s the White House’s turn.

Invading this civic holy of holies is a band of North Korean no-goodniks led by an internationally wanted terrorist named Kang (Rick Yune). Ruthless, fanatical and perfectly trained, Kang’s followers require only 13 minutes to take control of the world’s most recognizable residence — whose security code name, it seems, is that of the mountain dwelling of the ancient Greek gods.

The military response time for protecting the White House is, alas, 15 minutes.

This is not good news for President Benjamin Asher (Aaron Eckhart) or the other high officials taken hostage, scrappy Defence Secretary Ruth McMillan (Melissa Leo) most prominent among them. Kang wants the United States to stand down from shielding South Korea, and he’s prepared to use the president’s protective feelings for pre-teen first moppet Connor (Finley Jacobsen) to accomplish this.

The commies, however, have failed to reckon on the fighting skills of Secret Service agent Mike Banning (Gerard Butler). Temporarily sidelined to a desk job in the Treasury Department, Mike survives the initial assault on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, though he arrives in time to take out a few of the extras and battle his way into the mansion, guns ablaze.

Once inside the heavily damaged structure, Mike keeps his boss, Secret Service director Lynn Jacobs (Angela Bassett), and statesmanlike Speaker of the House Trumbull (Morgan Freeman) — now the nation’s acting chief executive — apprised of developments.

Slaughter is interspersed with demonstrations of American ingenuity and moral superiority in director Antoine Fuqua’s shallow fightfest.

Bodies litter the White House grounds and corridors; Ruth takes a savage beating as Kang pursues a secret code that will spell doom for the homeland should he possess it; and the Washington Monument is clipped by the wing of a hijacked plane — after which much of it crumbles Twin Towers-fashion. As that venerable obelisk shudders, so too may many viewers.

The film contains gory scenes of combat, murder and torture, several uses of profanity and much rough and crude language.

 

Seven Psychopaths

By John Mulderig, Catholic News Service

NEW YORK (CNS) — The line between reality and cinema is blurred in the powerful but excessively violent drama “Seven Psychopaths” (CBS).

The complex plot of this wild work — pitched in the key of Quentin Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction” – centres on borderline-alcoholic screenwriter Marty (Colin Farrell) and two of his friends: Hans (Christopher Walken), an ostensibly gentle veteran of life’s many woes, and twitchy misfit Billy (Sam Rockwell).

Hans and Billy have a scam going that involves kidnapping dogs and getting cash rewards for returning them to their unsuspecting owners, who think the pets have just gone missing. Devoted husband Hans uses the ill-gotten funds to finance wife Myra’s (Linda Bright Clay) breast cancer treatment.

But things go awry when Hans and Billy snatch crazed gangster Charlie’s (Woody Harrelson) beloved pooch. They’re forced to go on the lam, joined by Marty, who incorporates their experiences into a script he’s writing for a movie titled … “Seven Psychopaths.”

Writer-director Martin McDonagh is firing on all aesthetic pistons, as too are his stars. But his serious meditation on the vicious cycle of wrongdoing and revenge — and the possibilities of living peacefully — is marred by off-the-charts blood-letting and scenes of sickening mayhem.

This is all the sadder since religion — or at least spirituality in the broadest sense — is portrayed as the principal gateway to force-eschewing enlightenment. Thus, one early vignette involves a criminal redeemed by his conversion to Catholicism, while a Vietnamese Buddhist monk plays a climactic role toward the close of McDonagh’s narrative.

Some of the moral points these figures are used to illustrate would not sit well with viewers of faith. Nor, probably, would a scene involving a prostitute and her client — a man pretending to be a priest. It’s nonetheless a shame that McDonagh’s lofty intentions are derailed by his characters’ relish for the very violence he ultimately intends to condemn. Also lost in the queasy shuffle is his screenplay’s unusually forthright affirmation of an afterlife.

The film contains pervasive gory violence, including torture and multiple suicides, non-graphic non-marital sexual activity, a prostitution theme, upper female nudity, several uses of profanity and relentless rough and crude language.

 

Won’t Back Down

By Joseph McAleer, Catholic News Service

NEW YORK (CNS) — It may sound like a Bruce Willis action thriller, but “Won’t Back Down” (Fox) is anything but. Still, this David-vs.-Goliath story of two single mothers who join forces to save a failing public school from a wicked bureaucracy packs an emotional wallop.

Directed by Daniel Barnz (“Beastly”), who co-wrote the screenplay with Brin Hill, “Won’t Back Down” is based on a California law that enables parents and teachers to take control of their public school, turning it into a charter school. The film switches the location to the gritty streets of Pittsburgh and the fictional John Adams Elementary School, officially graded “F” by the local school board.

Nona (Viola Davis) is a once-vital teacher who has been beaten down by the system, simply going through the motions and passing her failing students on to the next grade. Her depression is compounded by the breakdown of her marriage and the problems of her son, Cody (Dante Brown), who is learning disabled and not getting enough attention in his own public school.

Facing a similar plight is Jamie (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a single mother with a dyslexic child, Malia (Emily Alyn Lind). Although in the third grade at Adams, Malia cannot read, and her “zombie” of a teacher, protected by tenure, couldn’t care less, driving Jamie wild. Unable to afford the tuition to transfer Malia to a private school, Jamie feels trapped, desperate that her child has a chance to escape poverty through a good education.

Jamie takes her frustration to the local school board, where she learns about the charter school law. She’s also warned about the mighty opposition to change from the powerful teachers’ union, headed by Evelyn (Holly Hunter).

With a natural charm, spitfire determination, and an unwavering belief in people power, Jamie goes on the offensive, lobbying parents and teachers with the war cry, “Just Say Know.” She partners with Nona to begin the lengthy application process, and brings on board the popular music teacher, Michael (Oscar Isaac). He puts in extra credit as Jamie’s love interest and Malia’s babysitter.

It all leads to a showdown with the school board, chaired by the mercurial Olivia (Marianne Jean-Baptiste). She warns Nona that her efforts are doomed.

“Do you know the moral of the Icarus story?” Olivia asks.

“Yeah. Wear sunscreen,” a defiant Nona replies.

“Won’t Back Down” paints with a broad brush, and the caricatures of incompetent teachers and evil union bosses are extreme. They serve to push the film’s agenda of school choice, which will resonate with any parent today.

With Nona regaining her teaching mojo and inspiring her ragtag students, “Won’t Back Down” resembles the 1967 classic “To Sir With Love,” with Davis in the role immortalised by Sidney Poitier. Instead of Lulu warbling the title song, we have Tom Petty crooning, “No I won’t back down/You can stand me up at the gates of hell/But I won’t back down.”

Indeed, “Won’t Back Down” shows that hell hath no fury like a public school parent or teacher scorned.

The film contains some intense emotional moments.