Blood and Chocolate

(2007, 98 min) The werewolf genre has seen precious little invention lately; perhaps the Underworld series has something going for it with its mix of vampires and wolves. What seems to hobble films with lesser budgets are the digital or make-up effects that complete the human to wolf transformation. In Blood and Chocolate, this isn't a problem as real wolves are used throughout. This greatly enhances this film and adds a level of seriousness that might be absent otherwise. Vivian (Agnes Bruckner) is a girl of Romanian descent and centerpiece werewolf. She meets graphic novelist Aiden (Hugh Dancy) in Bucharest, and there is immediate attraction, but alas, Aiden is nothing but human "meat". Gabriel (Olivier Martinez) is the head of the pack and cuts a lithe and menacing figure as he rails against the injustices meted out to the noble shape-shifters for over five thousand years.

Director Katja von Garnier (Iron-Jawed Angels, Bandits) has fashioned a thoughtful meditation on the animal nature of humanity, amorality vs. a deep seated sense of righteousness and an even-handed, compassionate view of those on the societal fringe. Beautiful Romanian location photography adds gothic depth and atmosphere to the action sequences of roving packs of young men and women who effortlessly morph into ravenous wolves.

Although the romantic interest angle is tried and true formula, not much else is in this surprisingly lyrical mood piece. Bruckner and Martinez stand out as their wills and visions clash as to the future of the society of wolves. Holding the key to their destinies, Dancy projects both bewilderment and steely determination in a solid supporting role. Not to be sidelined, the wolf- wrangling is truly superb. Tight closeups of snarling muzzles and amazing fight sequences highlight this original take on a tired genre.

– Max Brinck

© TLA Entertainment Group

Deliver Us from Evil

(2006, 101 min) For an unconscionable number of years, charming and soft-spoken Catholic priest Oliver O’Grady assimilated himself into the lives of trusting parishioners throughout Northern California and sexually molested numerous children (and even one 9-month-old infant) that were taught to regard him with the same respect one would pay Christ. For easily questionable reasons, O’Grady discusses his crimes and sexual yearnings (with an ever-present, off-putting smirk) during a series of interviews in the provocative and powerful Deliver Us from Evil.

Though cognizant and ashamed of his transgressions, O’Grady (now roaming free on the streets of his native Ireland) has managed to mentally disassociate from the overwhelming devastation that his actions have caused. Director Amy Berg (a former television news producer for CBS and CNN) balances the film perfectly by interviewing several of O’Grady’s victims and their families – each of whom continues in carrying psychological pain decades after their respective violations.

Instead of mandating psychiatric help, Cardinal Roger Mahony authorized O’Grady’s relocation to similar near-by parishes on multiple occasions after receiving reports of his abusive tendencies. Footage is shown of a recent court hearing where Mahony conveniently forgets (under an apparently meaningless oath) having taken part in O’Grady’s transfers. With the well-informed assistance of Father Thomas Doyle, a free-thinking cannon lawyer and Christian activist, the film also informs of shockingly unjust governmental choices that the Church (as high in rank as the papacy) has made. Examined is how Catholic dogma sees no technical difference between the molestation of a child and consensual fornication between adults, the origins of celibacy in priesthood and the vicious effects that can result from scientifically unnatural sexually repressive practices.

Though the topic may upset many viewers, Deliver Us from Evil is a deeply moving masterpiece of documentary filmmaking that warrants mass attention. It is an absolute must-see (especially for all former and current, practicing and non-practicing Catholics) with an abundance of valid and globally important information that will surely keep audiences talking about the subject matter long after it ends. With enough awareness and public demand, full justice can be done for the victims and families. Full comprehension of this state of affairs will inhibit both the crimes of sexual abuse and the conspiracy of silence.

– Robert O'Neill

© TLA Entertainment Group

Smokin' Aces

(2007, 108 min) Smokin' Aces, a mindless and easily forgettable offering from Narc director Joe Carnahan, showcases the assassination of Buddy "Aces" Israel (Jeremy Piven). Israel, an egocentric magician, has pissed off numerous high-ranking mob connections and planned to testify against them through arrangements with the FBI (represented by Ray Liotta and Ryan Reynolds). When the film begins, he is hiding in a guarded hotel penthouse biding his time between heavy drugs and sleazy hookers. When mob-boss Primo Sparazza (Joseph Ruskin) orders Isreal's death, several professional hit-men and women (included in the all-star lineup are Ben Affleck, Peter Berg, Martin Henderson, Nestor Carbonell and scene-stealers Taraji P. Henson and musician Alicia Keys in her first full-length film role) are separately contracted to kill the hopeless magician and return with his heart. Bullets fly in every direction and a bloodbath ensues as the professional assassins compete brutally against one another.

Carnahan's note-worthy cast and colorful Las Vegas-based production design are reminiscent of Steven Soderbergh's Ocean's Eleven efforts while the characters, dialog and ultraviolence aspire to be more like an early Tarantino offering (or any of the copious rip-offs that attempted to capitalize on the popularity that followed Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction during the mid '90s). Hasty and almost disorienting editing that appears to be tailored for those with attention deficit disorder and ludicrous plot twists ensure that Smokin' Aces will fall far below the expectations of the average discerning viewer.

Action fans, however, that are willing to ignore the competent but completely unoriginal craftsmanship and the senselessness of the plot may find enough pleasure in the handful of engrossing action sequences to justify a guilty home viewing or two in surround sound.

– Robert O'Neill

© TLA Entertainment Group

Wild Hogs

(2007, 99 min) Doug (Tim Allen) is a safe and dependable dentist. Bobby (Martin Lawrence) is a henpecked, would-be author. Dudley (William H. Macy) is an IT guy and a walking definition of “nerd.” Woody (John Travolta) is in the midst of a divorce from a supermodel, and bankrupt. The four friends achieve temporary respite from their midlife crises and their nagging dissatisfactions with weekend jaunts on their motorcycles. When one of their contemporaries suddenly dies, they seize on the idea of a road trip, striking out for wild adventure while they still can. They call themselves the Wild Hogs, sew colors on their jackets, and take off. . . daringly, without GPS. They face predictable and foreseeable problems, mostly of their own making; we meet predictable and foreseeable characters, such as the overly-friendly Highway Patrolman (John C. McGinley), the knowing, heart-of-gold waitress (Marisa Tomei), and wives of varying temperament (Jill Hennessy and Tichina Arnold). The Hogs, predictably and foreseeably, run into a real motorcycle gang, the Del Fuegos, whose near-psychotic leader Jack (Ray Liotta) doesn’t take kindly to the suburban posers. When Woody, unbeknownst to his traveling companions, exacts heavy revenge against the Del Fuegos for their rude mistreatment, Jack gathers his forces and sets out to track them down. And crush them. The final showdown takes place at the Madrid (New Mexico) Chile Festival.

Despite the utter predictability and foreseeability of all the major plot points of this movie, it still manages to provide lightweight and enjoyable diversion. It’s patented Hollywood fluff, OK for family viewing, and blatantly escapist fare. Don’t expect much, and you won’t be disappointed.

Note: the actual Madrid, New Mexico, will celebrate their first annual Chile Festival all day, Saturday, July 7, 2007. As seen on TV in the movies.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

God Grew Tired of Us

(2006, 89 min) The Sudanese Civil War started in 1983, as the Muslim north descended on the Christian and animist south with torture, sterilization and murder. At least 27,000 five- to 10-year-old children, separated from their families and abandoned by the world, crisscrossed thousands of miles of desert in their exodus, foraging for food, under attack by hyenas and lions, enduring bombing raids from the north, eating mud and drinking urine. After five years, about 12,000 were left alive to make it to refugee camps on the Ethiopian border. God Grew Tired of Us focuses on three of those who made it to the U.S.

John Bul Dau, Daniel Abol Pach and Panther Blor never used electricity or plumbing before they left the camps they called home for 10 years. Culture shock is palpable as they roam the aisles of a supermarket in Pittsburgh, as they watch images flickering on a TV screen. We see ourselves through fresh eyes, as they adjust and adapt to our way of life. They observe Christmas as a time of spiritual contemplation and joyful commemoration of the birth of Christ, not an extravaganza of consumerism. They worry that the hours needed to work multiple jobs and to attend classes allow little time for their friends, for the family forged during their hegira. They're saddened that their memories of their homeland and their birth families are failing, growing fainter the longer they remain here. They wonder why we don't talk to each other more.

When a 13-year-old's job includes burying the dead and being an elder statesman for his group, his sense of responsibility is tempered and focused. The Lost Boys and Girls work not just for themselves but for those left behind. They search for surviving family members, sending financial support to them as they support themselves. They've survived in the face of overwhelming odds and struggle to maintain their culture and to aid those compatriots having a harder time acclimating to the new world. Through it all, they retain the ability to celebrate life and experience joy. God Grew Tired of Us is an examination of a decades-long injustice and a veneration of the human spirit.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

Eragon

(2006, 102 min) Derived from the first novel by Christopher Paolini, Peter Buchanan (Jurassic Park III) attempts to fashion a screenplay that derives from Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings."

Special-effects-supervisor-turned-director Stefen Fangmeier utilizes location photography in Hungary and Slovakia to evoke a bit of the mindscapes fashioned by Peter Jackson in New Zealand. The genre of sword, sorcery and dragons is well known to fantasy enthusiasts and gamers alike, and it must take a lot these days to inject new energy into tired formula. At times, Eragon manages to achieve a fresh look, especially with some of the medium and long range shots of the flying dragon, Saphira. Newcomer Edward Speleers plays Eragon, a farm lad who finds a dragon egg that hatches and becomes the gargantuan dragon who uses telepathy to communicate with him. He soon realizes, with the help of veteran dragon rider Brom (Jeremy Irons), that he has been chosen to find the rebel fighters known as the Varden, meant to crush the forces of evil represented by bad King Galbatorix (John Malkovich) and his right-hand henchman, Durza (Robert Carlyle). This he manages to do, but not enough time is allowed between the first flight of the dragon and rider and the final battle sequence to develop plot, primary and secondary character development and that epic feel peculiar to the fantasy film and exemplified in The Lord of the Rings.

Irons manages to turn in a respectable performance, while other major characters suffer from a lack of acting chops. Even Malkovich, who is usually riveting, seems like he is sleepwalking through his meager screen-time, while Carlyle summons a somewhat frenzied and frightening visage as a black magician. There are some good ideas here, but at 102 minutes, it all seems like a rushed and underdone affair. The cliffhanger promises that the sequel might be more exciting. Here’s hoping.

– Max Brinck

© TLA Entertainment Group

Blood Diamond

(2006, 138 min) Helmed by Edward Zwick (The Last Samurai, Glory), Blood Diamond showcases the maturing talent of Leonardo DiCaprio. Supported by Djimon Hounsou and Jennifer Connelly, this action, political adventure is set in Sierra Leone in 1999. Solomon (Hounsou), a fisherman who loses his family and village to rebels, and Danny Archer (DiCaprio), a Rhodesian who smuggles diamonds out to Liberia, join forces with Maddy Bowen (Connelly), a journalist trying to get the inside story on smuggling and diamond cartels. Maddy wants a story, Archer wants a piece of one of the largest pink diamonds ever found by Solomon, who only wants his family reunited.

The backdrop to the journey of the three is civil war between rebels and government troops. At the heart, the motivating factor is a commodity. At first, it was ivory, then oil and gold. In this story, diamonds are the basis and greed is the shadow cast over the troubled continent of Africa.

The "conflict diamonds" cause young boys to turn into killing machines, destroying innocent lives in their villages and transforming the beautiful countryside and streams into bloody stains and burning forests.

Even more of a standout than Dicaprio is Hounsou. His screen presence is totally electrifying in every scene he is in. He deserves the supporting actor nominations and awards from various critical societies. The second greatest asset is the location photography of veteran Eduardo Serro. Every scene is lovingly shot, well aware of its function as epic, visual language. Connelly, although a peripheral character, represents the conflict/resolution structure of the plot. Her appearance in the coda of the film adds an emotionally touching note that is welcome. Blood Diamond is a satisfying entertainment cast in the old-school style of David Lean's Bridge on the River Kwai.

– Max Brinck

© TLA Entertainment Group

The Host

(2006, 119 min) At a US military installation in South Korea, a pasty-faced American officer tells his Korean lab assistant to throw dusty bottles of formaldehyde down the drain. The assistant tries to tell the officer that formaldehyde is toxic, and the drain dumps directly into the Han River, which runs through the heart of Seoul. But the officer insists, and the bottles are emptied. It's the year 2000.

Two older gents are fishing in the Han River, when one notices a small unusual creature in the water. It snaps viciously when he tries to pick it up. They call it a mutation. It's 2002.

The Park family's home base is the food stand they run at the banks of the Han River. Gang-du's daughter Hyun-seo is angry at him for missing a parent-teacher meeting. His father is continually angry at him for his laziness. Gang-du's brother Nam-Il is an unemployed college graduate, and sister Nam-Joo is in competition for the national archery team. On this sunny summer day, Gang-du notices a crowd gather at the river's edge. People have noticed a mass suspended from under a nearby bridge. The object uncurls, drops into the river, then comes ashore. For lunch. And it's not standing in line at the food truck. It's 2006.

The Host is a superbly crafted sci-fi/horror movie, replete with bureaucratic ineptitude, political conspiracy, weird humor, family friction and a truly scary, acrobatic monster with disgusting eating habits and a really wicked back flip. Gang-du shows his mettle in the face of crisis: he springs into action when the creature grabs his daughter, and the entire family puts their squabbles on hold and unites with absolute resolve to get her back. The US Army comes into play again, ostensibly taking over to capture the creature, but is it really just an elaborate cover-up? Mutated, flesh-eating abominations aside, the real horror is what humans do to each other.

Director Joon-ho Bong scores a hit with The Host, adroitly incorporating multiple storylines, making the most of an accomplished cast (Ah-sung Ko as the young Hyun-seo is notable), creating a superb creature, and testifying to the ongoing usefulness of the Molotov cocktail. For creature feature aficionados, this is a must-see.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

The Last King of Scotland

(2006, 123 min) It's 1970, and young Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) has just completed his medical studies. His doctor father sees Nicholas joining his practice in their Scottish town, but that prospect makes Nicholas literally scream. He spins a globe, points, rejects Canada, spins again, points again, and this time finds Uganda. He arrives just as Idi Amin overthrows President Obote, his former friend and ally. Amin is welcomed as a "man of the people" by the populace, and ascends to lead the country with forceful charisma. Garrigan is working in a small village hospital when a chance roadside meeting brings him to Amin's attention. Amin has been enchanted with all things Scottish since he joined the King’s African Rifles, the British Army's East African Corps, as a young man. Amin appoints Garrigan as his personal physician.

For a while, Garrigan's privileged position insulates him from what's going on in the country at large. But eventually he sees that Amin's over-the-top persona has escalated to ruthless volatility, paranoia and madness. As Amin becomes increasingly irrational, critics of the regime (real and imagined) simply disappear, and mass deportations become mass murder. Amin once valued Garrigan's opinion, but Garrigan finally realizes that he is just another prisoner in the jail that was Uganda.

Forest Whitaker grabs the screen with inexorable control, delivering an extraordinary portrayal well worth the Oscar® it garnered. He sits on a throne wearing a kilt, resplendent in plaid and animal fur, as Ugandan folk singers offer their rendition of "The Bonnie Banks O' Loch Lomond"; he is the epitome of disconnect and denial. McAvoy holds his own against Whitaker's powerhouse performance, as does the supporting ensemble. Director Kevin MacDonald, himself a Scotsman, evidences his documentary background in the film's immediacy and spontaneity. He has crafted a fluid and involving examination of a fascinating, horrific personality. The Last King of Scotland is an arresting experience.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

Year of the Dog

(2007, 98 min) Year of the Dog opens on a field of frolicking puppies, then shows the dogs' humans circling the activity. Most of the humans are chatting among themselves, but Peggy (Molly Shannon) has eyes only for her beloved, adorable beagle Pencil.

Peggy holds a generic job in a sterile office. She comforts her pedestrian boss as he suffers the slights of banal office politics. She's a sounding board for her workplace best friend. She babysits her brother's children and takes well-meaning advice from him and his wife. She's there for everyone, and Pencil is there for her: Pencil is her emotional core. When Pencil dies, Peggy’s grief is overwhelming, leading to breakdown and collapse. At one point, she takes in 15 shelter dogs to save them from being put down. She works through the void made visible by Pencil's death to eventually achieve a resolution to her personal crisis and a new direction for her life.

While the movie purports to show a "journey of personal transformation," as expressed in the press blurbs, it instead shows mental breakdown and tenuous recovery. First-time director Mike White falters in the promise shown in his scripts for The Good Girl and School of Rock. Maybe the static camera and one-note performances were meant to show the 2-dimensional quality of Peggy's pre-satori life, but the work succeeds only in coming in second to a good "Afterschool Special." With unrelenting earnestness and ensemble support from the likes of John C. Reilly and Laura Dern, Year of the Dog was clearly intended as a message film extolling animal rights and the healing power of furry friends. It falls short.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group