Stanley Kubrick: Pessimistic humanist

Kubrick: The humanity in a pessimistic, distancing director

By Jerry Saravia

Originally written for Youthquake Magazine back in May 27, 2004

Every passing year since Stanley Kubrick’s death in 1999, I have become sadder and sadder. My sadness stems from Kubrick himself and the legacy he left behind. It is well known that an artist’s death renders the artist more exposure than when he was alive. In the face of cinema artists, this is true of the late Orson Welles, and it holds true for Stanley Kubrick. It may be some time before Kubrick’s final opus, “Eyes Wide Shut,” is seen as the masterpiece it definitely is (with repeated viewings).

Consider for a moment his vital, intellectual, influential work in the 20th century. From the noirish roots of “The Killing,” to the anti-war treatise in “Paths of Glory,” to the romantic longings of a professor and his stepdaughter in “Lolita,” to the infinite universe and beyond of “2001: A Space Odyssey,” to the antisocial behaviors and violence of youth in “A Clockwork Orange,” to the tumult of a simpleton’s rise and fall in “Barry Lyndon” and, last but not least, the Vietnam War as a folly of clockwork soldiers and political mumbo-jumbo in “Full Metal Jacket.”

But there is more than just a series of entertaining, highly troubling, disturbing, provocative films to Kubrick’s résumé – the themes of sexual dysfunction and dehumanization are also clearly focused and became staples in Kubrick’s work. His films were not films – they were events – and you couldn’t forget them. As I have discovered in the past few years, even those who hate some of his work can’t easily dispense with it and move on. The films are as much a fabric of our society as any highly personal director, and of the world’s. Kubrick’s films are ours – we see ourselves in his films, for better or worse.

What has bothered me about the critical reception toward Kubrick is the charge that he was a clinical, ice-cold director, concerned more with pyrotechnics and style than with humanity. This is quite a charge, something unheard of in the mentioning of any other director I can recall. Of course, with repeated viewings, we can see a humanity stamped in his films, no matter how distancing the director is.

There is no doubt that Kubrick was deeply concerned with style and craftsmanship (he even obtained a rare NASA wide-angle lens for “Barry Lyndon” to avoid the usual lighting sources found in period pieces). Style and craftsmanship are commonly every director’s concern, particularly one with an individualistic style (I mean, how less of a craftsman is Spielberg than Kubrick?) The difference is always in the execution of style and performance to suit the director’s needs and his themes, particularly his emotional attachment to his characters who are put on dehumanizing rollercoaster rides.

For instance, it is easy to dismiss Kubrick’s “A Clockwork Orange” as an intellectually engaging film rather than an emotional one. In closer inspection, though, there is a catharsis for the main character, Alex (Malcolm McDowell), a gang leader who revels in the glory of violence. He is not a sentimental creation, but he is a likable kind of guy despite his violent nature. (How can you hate anyone who loves Beeethoven?) Through the course of the film, we see the world through his eyes, but we never forget what he is. When Alex kills his victims, it is usually off screen. But when his band of droogs turns against him, something else happens. He is beaten in prison by guards and spat on, and we see what a bloody mess he has become (unlike his murder victims). Then the Orwellian government takes over, using Alex as a guinea pig for the removal of violent behavior. We see Alex strapped to a chair with his eyelids pried open as he is forced to watch Holocaust films and sexual and violent reenactments of what almost seems like his own crimes. The man is in agony, especially when he is deemed cured and is treated to what appears to be the Theater of the Cruel, where he is again abused, kicked and tested. Out in the real world, Alex is a free man, but his parents shun him, his former droogs are now police officers who nearly drown him, and the leftist writer who was paralyzed by Alex’s actions wants his blood. No one can tell me that it isn’t wrenchingly emotional to see teary-eyed Alex in his parents’ house. Through the last third of the film, Alex has become a sorry-eyed, lost puppy – he wants affection and can’t get it.

Another film misunderstood in its emotional effect is “Full Metal Jacket,” Kubrick’s Vietnam War movie that is really just a war movie in the strictest sense. It is less about Vietnam than it is about the repercussions of the hellish experience known as war, and how it affects the soldiers themselves. There is the case of Gomer Pyle (Vincent D’Onofrio), the fat Marine recruit who is unable to meet the physical demands of rigorous basic training. He has an unending confrontation with Gunnery Sgt. Hartman (R. Lee Ermey), who imposes on his trainee and attacks him verbally and physically. Pyle is the only recruit who consistently bungles his training sessions – he can’t climb a wooden fence, he has trouble running, he is unable to do one pull-up, and so on. However, he is a hell of a marksman. But before the tragedy unfolds between Pyle and Hartman, the gleam and innocence in Pyle has eroded – he is a soldier with the instincts of a machine ready to kill. Hartman has stripped his humanity to the point where Pyle can only react with explosive rage. Even fellow recruits tire of Pyle’s screw-ups – they beat him with socks filled with soaps. We feel something for Gomer Pyle as we would for anyone who is put through the dehumanizing process of making young men into killers.

Maybe it was bad timing, but “Full Metal Jacket” followed the coattails of Oliver Stone’s powerful “Platoon” and several other Vietnam pictures. “Full Metal Jacket” was a modest financial success but critically a disaster. Roger Ebert wrote that it was like parading around Kubrick’s own little Vietnam, easy to find where you are because he keeps going in circles to the same place. “It was too little, too late,” he added, as if yet another Vietnam movie was an error in judgment. What did people have to say about John Ford’s numerous westerns when the genre was exploited for all its worth during the ’40s and ’50s? The other criticism was about the disconnected two-act structure that makes it seem like we are watching two movies. Kubrick was always experimenting with narrative, and the associations and connections between the two acts can be found if one looks closely. In the end, it was really about war as an apolitical phenomenon, taking no sides and showing that it is maddening and senseless. This may have bothered many critics.

“Eyes Wide Shut,” Kubrick’s last hurrah, is quite possibly the most emotional of all his films – a moving illumination on marriage and sex as told through the point of view of a private doctor. The doctor is Bill Harford (Tom Cruise), who has a private practice in New York City, a beautiful wife named Alice (Nicole Kidman) and a young daughter who loves to go window-shopping at the nearby toy store. A night after a big party, Alice wonders about Bill’s own feelings towards other women, particularly his patients. What is instigated is immediate jealousy from Bill when Alice tells the story of a handsome sailor she almost had a liaison with. Bill goes out in the streets of New York, looking for sex with hookers and patients’ relatives, and embarks on a nightmarish journey into a secret orgy held in a mansion on Long Island. But Bill never gets laid and further discovers that sex can be an animalistic act devoid of emotion. This realization is at the heart of “Eyes Wide Shut” – everyone has their eyes open except him. And the ending furthers this idea when Alice breaks down, saying she loves him but can think of only one thing: sex.

Most critics panned Kubrick’s Sex Odyssey for reasons relating more to Kubrick, the man, than Kubrick, the director. They felt he was behind the times, completely de-eroticizing the film’s subject matter and teasing us with prospects of fornication. Had Kubrick been so isolated that he had no notion of how human beings behave anymore? Again, quite a charge to make of a director whose sole interest has always been human behavior. The New York Observer’s Rex Reed wrote, “It is a film made by a man who didn’t get out much.” It may be Kubrick’s own fault for teasing the audience and critics who thought they were going to see Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman in their birthday suits. Nothing could be further from the truth. The advertising campaign and media hype showed proof that the director was toying with our expectations all over again. Think back to “Dr. Strangelove” and “Lolita” with their cunning use of wit to deliver sexual innuendoes. Did anyone really think Stanley Kubrick was going to make a full-scale blue movie, a porno flick with NC-17 pretensions a la “Last Tango in Paris”? I knew that was not the case, especially when the screenplay was adapted from “Traumnovelle,” a novella written by Arthur Schnitzler, a good friend of Sigmund Freud. The film is also an attempt at understanding the meaning and need for sex in people, and every person Bill meets has a sexual connotation.

The other night I watched “The Shining” for the umpteenth time and was struck by how emotional I felt for Shelley Duvall’s Wendy, who is consistently crying and in shock over Jack Nicholson’s psychotic Jack Torrance. Mind you, I never felt much for Wendy, so this came as quite a surprise to me.

Kubrick’s films grow on you like moss, and you never forget them because they are so focused on the characters. He had the habit of distancing himself from the material because he wanted to be the observer, the omnipotent god who looks down at the situation and analyzes it. But make no mistake, he had an emotional center.

Let’s not forget Barry Lyndon’s own tragic downfall, from a simpleton to a bastard who weeps for his son’s death and his amputated leg. The loneliness of space travel and the destructive supercomputer, HAL, who develops more emotions than any of the astronauts in “2001: A Space Odyssey.” James Mason’s Humbert Humbert’s severe emotional breakdown, knowing he is losing the life he wanted to have with the sexpot title character in “Lolita.”

Stanley Kubrick cared about his characters, and he showed pathos without ever sentimentalizing their responses or their situations. He was a humanist but also a pessimist. The controversy continues.

The world is collapsing...because of Mel Gibson? Paris Hilton?

THE WORLD IS COLLAPSING...BECAUSE OF MEL GIBSON? PARIS HILTON?

By Jerry Saravia

It seems that celebrities get the major headlines nowadays. Nope, President Obama is not a celebrity but he is treated in the news as such. With the exception of your local news at night or during the day, it is apparent that news organizations look to remedy celebrities' lives by focusing on their troubling scandals and hoping and waiting for one of them to screw up. Haiti, Katrina, North Korea, the two wars currently being fought, the global economic crisis, the job crisis, the health care crisis, the BP oil spill crisis - all these crises take a backseat to Paris Hilton confusing gum for cocaine, or the other way around. For two months in 2010, nobody talked about anything else but Mel Gibson's furious, angry-laced rants and raves peppered with racial epithets, all part of private telephone conversations between him and his girlfriend model. Yes, they were shocking but...is it really news? I mean, can we put Gibson's own words ahead of anything President Obama says about Middle-East peace? I should hope not, but Gibson takes precedence over Obama apparently. I recall when Larry King was asked who he would interview if he had to choose, on presumably the same night his live show is on, Michael Jackson or Saddam Hussein? Jackson was the answer.

Mel Gibson's tirades are simply tired to me. I could care less what he has to say privately in his own home. But our society today thinks we should care because we know him. We do? I never met Mel Gibson and I don't feel any kinship with him because I enjoyed his Mad Max adventures. Same would be true with Harrison Ford, Oliver Stone, Roman Polanski, etc. I only care about him as an actor and director, and I would say his infamous anti-Semitic views hardly pinch me at all when I see him as Martin Riggs from Lethal Weapon. Now his violent verbal abuse of his girlfriend might make think twice that he is a sweet, suave man in reality, especially when he made movies like "What Women Want" or (don't giggle) "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden." Clearly the man is as mad as Mad Max, but should I hold him up to a standard of living because he espouses such hate to his girlfriend? Of course not, because it is none of my business.

Here are some past follies that either have or have not ruined celebrities and their respective careers:

1.) Roman Polanski's infamous rape of a young teenage girl that has been erroneously attributed as something it is not. I won't go into details but if you have seen the recent documentary on this case and listened to testimonies, including that of the young girl, you might think twice about completely dismissing Polanski as a pedophile.

2.) Robert Blake killing his wife, 2001. Yeah, that is a toughie. I cannot excuse murder or rape either, but somehow I can't let that disguise the fact that I love Blake as an actor. He is one of the best we have ever had, with stellar performances in "In Cold Blood" to name one. But would I support seeing more of his work post 2001? Probably not, but I can enjoy his earlier work without thinking about it. Still, the fact that he played an ice-cold killer in "In Cold Blood" and a spectral ghost/subconscious who spouts violent epiphanies in "Lost Highway" makes them scarier in retrospect in light of his real-life murderous scandal.

3.) Woody Allen marrying Soon-Yi Previn. Hmmm, another toughie. Soon-Yi was Mia and Woody's adopted daughter, though Mia and Woody had never married and never lived together. Woody took nude photos of Soon-Yi when she was a tyke. Mia found them and 1992 ended up being one of the most famous years the Woodsman ever had, litigiously speaking. Woody and Soon-Yi are still together and living, presumably, happily. Should I care? Not completely though that doesn't mean he is excluded from being judged by his actions. Woody Allen, without a doubt,  is one of the sharpest comic writers of all time and his Bergmanesque dramas, like "Interiors,"  are truly challenging and provocative cinema. But this most uncivil union bothers me a tad if only because Woody's character in many films dated younger women, though none were depicted as his adopted daughters. Like I said, a toughie but I respect the artist, not the man.

There are many other examples but the point is that all celebrities, particularly in Hollywood, have had their share of scandals galore (Kenneth Anger wrote two books about them from early Hollywood, entitled "Hollywood Babylon.") There are the unproven rumors such as Walt Disney was an anti-Semite or that Errol Flynn expressed such views and may have been a Nazi (untrue by the way), or that Stanley Kubrick shot people in his backyard and watch them bleed (also untrue, as are most of the rumors about the legendary director). Even the notorious incident that Fatty Arbuckle faced when he allegedly raped a woman with a bottle were proven to be unfounded allegations and he was acquitted, but his reputation was still sullied. The irony is that audiences were clamoring for a comeback of the comical Arbuckle and it never quite happened.

The world is all shaken up at this point but that doesn't mean that the dire straits this country is in should result in celebrityisms taking precedence. I don't mind escapism but I do not need to escape so drastically by listening to Mel Gibson's phone messages or Michael Richards' racially charged tirades. Leave that to the masochists.

Soderbergh's Girlfriend Is Like No Other

THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE (2009)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Steven Soderbergh's "The Girlfriend Experience" is made in the same vein as one of his lesser-known efforts, "Bubble," with an overall emphasis on a gloomy mood and tone. This is the type of tonal piece that can frustrate many but not me: it is an exemplary work made by a director who plays with the form and never loses sight of content. 

Okay, sounds like a snore-inducing art-house picture, you say? Not so. "The Girlfriend Experience" is about a female escort named Chelsea (Sasha Grey), who employs the "girlfriend experience" by pretending to be sincere, a listener and, perhaps, feign being in love with her client. Not only that, she has to embody the girl-next-door look, classy but not too sophisticated, and certainly listen, listen, listen (sex sometimes follows). The men she employs this fantasy to are Wall Street-types or entrepreneurs dressed in business suits - they make up most of her clientele. There are exceptions (such as the Hassidic Jew who hopes Chelsea will vote for McCain) but the men all practically look alike, and profusely state everything that is wrong with the economy during the early stages of the economic collapse of 2008. And any film that mentions the wonderful documentary, "Man on Wire," (which Chelsea and a date go to see) can't be bad at all.

I do not dare give away much more because the film is done in a deliberate style of soft, muted tones, both in its DV-look and the way the characters speak. The film is sexy without resorting to one nude scene of boinking after another. For some, it may seem like the sleaze one can find on Cinemax but Soderbergh has not really made that kind of film either - there is, as I said, no sex scenes. 

But something curious happens to Chelsea, as she slowly and subtly sees a life where being an escort is no longer a reality. That would also mean leaving her 18-month relationship with her boyfriend (Chris Santos), a physical trainer, whom she lives with. And sneakily, without calling attention to itself, a certain amount of suspense is generated and we wonder what will be Chelsea's decision. Is she dejected or unhappy with her station in life? Does she see an avenue she can cross to a whole other life?  

"The Girlfriend Experience" is an elongated mood piece designed by Soderbergh to show that he can keep us glued to the screen without resorting to parlor tricks and fancy camera moves, as in his "Ocean's" films or "Out of Sight." "Girlfriend Experience" stands more in line with his underappreciated and highly underrated "Bubble," which is nothing short of a minor masterpiece. With his ever impressive resume, Steven Soderbergh has scored another direct hit and has given Sasha Grey, a former porn star, the platform for a purposely inexpressive and yet haunting performance.     

Zombie and Michael Myers make an uncomfortable mix

HALLOWEEN II (2009)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Clearly the original "Halloween" movies are too innocent for today's jaded tastes. And maybe today's younger audience needs to be pummelled by relentless, grisly violence in order to stay awake. But I look for more in a horror film than gore - I love menace, atmosphere, imagination, interesting characters and, yes, some blood-curling fun to make your palms sweat. Rob Zombie's "Halloween II" is not any fun at all, though it is remotely imaginative and it does have an eerie atmosphere. It is the characters populating this atmosphere that make me vomit. 

Zombie's sequel begins competently enough with a brief flashback to a young Michael Myers discussing white horses with his mother (Sheri Moon Zombie). Then we flashforward to the dreaded Halloween night where poor Laurie Strode (Scout Taylor-Compton) is clutching a handgun and is in a blood-drenched fever state after allegedly killing the one and only Michael Myers. So far, not bad. Then the ambulance picks up Michael Myers' supposedly dead body and we get one killing of a lecherous medic who has a passing interest in having sex with corpses, followed by the driver who is killed on impact after crashing into a cow! Then we get a hospital sequence where deadly Mike Myers arrives, chases Laurie, but not before he can lunge his knife repeatedly into a nurse. Then there is another gratuitous killing, and suddenly Laurie wakes up and is in her bedroom. She lives with the Bracketts, which include ponytailed Sheriff Brackett (Brad Dourif) who has a fond remembrance of Lee Marvin, and Annie, the sheriff's daughter (played by Danielle Harris, a Halloween series veteran) who survived Myers' wrath.

"Halloween II" pushes forward with the return of Dr. Loomis (Malcolm McDowell), Mikey's former psychiatrist, as he has written a book about Myers and has become something of a celebrity. In the book, he reveals that Laurie is actually Angela Myers, which would be Michael Myers' sister! A big no-no since poor Laurie is unaware of her identity. Loomis himself seems to relish being famous, which is an askew transformation from the subdued Loomis of the original (though McDowell's acting was more over-the-top there in the first film). McDowell, however, is in top form here - he can play an obnoxious prick better than anyone and does it with class. 

Most of "Halloween II" is certainly a significant improvement over the Zombie original, a putrid work that was scarier in its prologue than anything following it. Unfortunately, Zombie can't let his gore fans down and we get several grislier-than-thou killings, most of them unnecessary and simply marking time. Most alarming is a strip joint sequence where a naked woman's head is repeatedly thrust against a glass surface and a man's face is relentlessly stomped by Michael. The sequence is just an excuse to see Michael getting his violent fix since the characters have no relation to anything else in the story, nor are they mentioned earlier in the film. Such bloody mayhem takes away from the beautiful, truly hypnotic shots of Sheri Moon as Michael's mother, dressed as a white angel with blonde curls and standing next to a white horse (one reviewer pointed out that this movie is a semi-remake of "The Blue Bird" with Shirley Temple). These are Michael Myers's visions and they are startling to watch, and shared by Laurie during her many feverish dreams, but they add up to little (though there is an early musical accompaniment that includes "Nights in White Satin" by the Moody Blues). The visions of Michael's angelic mother tell Mikey to continue killing, which is confounding, but since this is Michael's demented mind, I guess we shouldn't be surprised. 

And for all the outrage Laurie expresses about Loomis' book and of trying to get past her trauma, she has a Charlie Manson poster above her bed! And all she wants to do is party! Since the film barely develops her character or her traumatic nightmares, she is simply another anonymous victim for Mikey. She does have a haunting moment at the end where she emits a devilish smile. Unfortunately, it seems dimly haunting when you consider how little we really know about Laurie.   

And what is it with Michael Myers in this film? At times, he wears the infamous William Shatner mask, and other times he wears no mask, has a full beard and looks like Rob Zombie's doppelganger! Plus he grunts every times he punches a hole through a door, a wall or someone's face.  

"Halloween II" has oodles of atmosphere and some fantastic footage of a Halloween party that adds tension and a level of wickedness - unlike the Zombie original, at least it seems to actually take place on Halloween. Outside of McDowell's performance and Dourif's scenery-chewing lines and some occasional suspense in the finale, "Halloween II" nevertheless amps up the gore and keeps resisting its wicked visuals and some truly heart-stopping feverish montages for blood-splattering murders. And Laurie's relentless high-pitched screams, not to mention several unsavory characters that only last on screen long enough to be decimated, brings tedium to a somewhat more ambitious "Halloween" sequel than anyone could have expected. 

A literal modern-day Icarus tale

BREWSTER MCCLOUD (1970):

One of Robert Altman's least appreciated films 
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

My feeling of "Brewster McCloud" is that it is an allegory of rebellion and freedom in the 1970's - to be a non-conformist and follow your own road, your own yellow brick road. Though the movie is full of "Wizard of Oz" homages, "Brewster McCloud" is as unconventional and inaccessible as any movie can get by the usually deeply inaccessible Robert Altman, and yet as evocative of the magic of movies as any other. 

Bud Cort is Brewster McCloud, a young man who steals Nikon cameras and cars, strangles people (!), lives in the Houston Astrodome's fallout shelter, and is building wings so he can fly freely in the Astrodome, Icarus-style. Sally Kellerman is a guardian angel of sorts who is nude when bathing Brewster, and helps to serve as a distraction so Brewster can go about town creating havoc. In the beginning of the film, Brewster is a limousine driver for a racist, wheelchair-bound millionaire (Stacy Keach, in old age makeup) who fires people on the spot. Brewster seems to have some animosity but he never expresses it verbally or emotionally, and the stranglings are all off-screen. Racist, piggish characters are instantly eliminated, whereas young Bohemian chicks are embraced, especially one with pigtails who is aroused by Brewster's pull-ups. 

What sort of movie is "Brewster McCloud"? I can only say that it serves as an offbeat antidote to the angry rebel pictures of the past and up to the late 60's and early 70's. It is about rebellion but done with a muted and naturalistic style, completely Altmanesque in every manner. There is a little bit of everything here including absurd car chases; birds pooping on people (poop gags were also in stench display in Altman's "Ready to Wear"); a supposedly brilliant cop a'la "Bullitt" (Michael Murphy) with blue contact lenses; Margaret Hamilton as a bad singer who hates black birds and gets her comeuppance in a bird cage; Shelley Duvall in her film debut as an Astrodome tour guide; Rene Auberjonois as a lecturer on birds who slowly transforms into one; a scene on how to test if a marijuana cigarette is marijuana; a silent roar from the MGM lion, not to mention the only time in movie history I can recall a repeat of the film's title and production company within the first few minutes; and perhaps more aviary shots than in any nature documentary. 

Bud Cort is mostly stone-faced in this movie, and I believe by design. I would have still liked a little emotion, especially with the subtlety in mannerisms he later expressed in "Harold and Maude."  Still, he has got charisma and keeps you glued to his every whim. Shelley Duvall is simply sweet and delightful and completely innocuous. It is really Sally Kellerman, though, who shows understated comic energy as the only person who cares about Brewster. Her final scene is so astounding that it deserves more than a footnote in light of her Academy Award nomination the same year for Altman's "MASH."

"Brewster McCloud" has been one of the least-known of Altman's films, right up there with "O.C. and Stiggs" and "Quintet." The only way it has been seen since its theatrical release is on television, laserdisc and limited VHS copies. Ultimately, it is Brewster's final flight of freedom that showcases not just Brewster but Altman himself. They are both iconoclasts who take risks and, in some cases, suffer the consequences. Outside of "Nashville" and "Short Cuts," it may be Altman's most personal film.   

Reboot comic-book movies and everything else!

REBOOT COMIC BOOK MOVIES

By Jerry Saravia

Comic-book movies are getting reboots faster than before anyone can say, "Wolverine: The Pre-School Years." Not just comic-books either but other genre offerings such as "Star Trek." Let's consider the recent and future examples.

"Fantastic Four" first came into being as a Roger Corman production back in 1994. Unseen by me, I wouldn't mind seeing it for fun, even if it is considered to be laughable by those who have seen it. Then it came back in 2005 as a big-screen adventure with Jessica Alba as the Invisible Girl, Chris Evans (currently courting the lead in "Captain America") as the Human Torch and Michael Chiklis as The Thing, the latter two coming off best. The film was uninspired and far too silly, and there was a sequel two years later. Now no more than four years have passed and guess what! There is a reboot of "Fantastic Four" already in the works for a possible 2013 release with Adrien Brody rumored to be appearing and Bruce Willis doing the voice of an all CGI-created The Thing!

Speaking of reboots, there is a "Spider-Man" reboot and an X-Men reboot! Huh? I'll omit any further discussion on X-Men, but Spider-Man? Now I have seen Spidey's third screen adventure (not bad overall) and the first two are good enough and I don't see anyone filling Tobey Maguire's shoes so snugly. So much for Sam Raimi's "Spider Man 4" that got shelved! Unbelievable! Shelved because the franchise was making too much money for the studios, or does Marvel want to do things its own way, hence the horrible "Incredible Hulk" film with Edward Norton? Possibly but unless the audience has amnesia, Tobey Maguire fit the part of Peter Parker and the masked crime-fighter beautifully. They could have had their trilogy alone and left it well enough alone, but now there is a young actor named Andrew Garfield filling in for Spidey's web-slinging costume. Why? Why? Money, of course. But does money also dictate making foolish decisions such as the possibility of Mary Jane not returning. Huh? Lindsay Lohan has expressed interest in playing Mary Jane but if there is no role... Now we had to contend, us older folks, with the dull live-action TV series from the late 70's starring a Spider-Man that wore goggles yet hardly spun his web all that much, and never fought the supervillains we all know and love. At least the 60's animated adventures were more thrilling but all was well when Tobey Maguire and Sam Raimi joined forces and restored some respect for the web-slinger. But now?

With all these reboots, some that have been phenomenally successful like 2009's "Star Trek," one wonders why the need, outside of greed, to consistently change and restabilize these franchises. "Star Trek" in particular has always been about William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy, not to mention the rest of the cast that have all been iconized. But why couldn't the studio consider a new chapter in the "Star Trek" series with the "Next Generation" cast? Probably a new sequel might have fared better nowadays in the audiences's insatiable need for escapism than in 2002's "Nemesis" that was the weakest entry in terms of box-office dollars. Had the recent rebooted, retrofitted "Star Trek" film not been successful, there probably would be a moratorium on reboots in general. As I said, money talks.

Here are some new reboot suggestions for Hollywood execs. Maybe you can cast Nathan Fillion as Indiana Jones and Linda Cardellini as Marion Ravenwood and make 1930's adventure movies, just like fans want it, instead of the 1950's setting with the future septuagenarian Harrison Ford. Or Hollywood can remake "Star Wars" and get Tobey Maguire to play Luke and Jack Nicholson to do the voice of Darth Vader! Or let's do "Iron Man" all over again and cast Jared Leto as a gloomier version of the Robert Downey, Jr. role, Tony Stark, and let Darren Aronosfky direct it!   Or reboot "Batman" all over again with Justin Bieber as a young Bruce Wayne! These shouldn't sound like good ideas and they are not for good reason - they couldn't possibly work but Hollywood keeps recycling anyway.

Shia LaBeouf's pans Indy 4, Transformers 2 (old news but still relevant)

Back in May of this year, Shia LaBeouf made a comment at the Cannes Film Festival that he and Spielberg "dropped the ball" on the Indiana Jones legacy with 2008's "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull." LaBeouf further stated that Harrison Ford also agreed that the film was not working when they were shooting it (there has been no real comment from Ford on that remark). Shia knew that swinging around with monkeys on vines was not going to work and couldn't work but, dammit, he tried to make it work. Now, several months to almost a year earlier, Shia mentioned that the general dislike of Crystal Skull from fans was silly considering they were questioning the implausibility of certain scenes, as in the flying fridge (the "Nuke the Fridge" controversy, a term I loathe). I agree with the latter though Indy surviving a nuclear explosion might seem like pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable in the Indy universe...but hanging on to a periscope of a submarine without being seen by the Nazis seems over-the-top. But, hey, this is Indiana Jones, not the real-life adventures of an archaeologist who carries a bullwhip and a gun when excavating for copper!

This news is even more relevant because Shia has supposedly gotten a sneak peek at the new, "crazy" ideas that Lucas and company have come up with for an Indy 5. Truth or not, it may be also true that Shia has snagged his Mutt Jones role back, or not. We won't know for sure yet. Has he had a talk with Spielberg over his pan of Indiana Jones 4 and "Transformers 2," the latter co-executive produced by Spielberg? I would've expressed more disappointment over the pointless "Disturbia," but that is just me.

My final thought is that Shia made these comments because he is trying to make the transition from wind-up action toy to adult actor, hence the upcoming "Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps" (which he promoted at Cannes). Maybe he wants to be taken seriously and that is fine, but some comments are better left mute in the interests of your employer. That is unless of course Spielberg also feels he dropped the ball on Indiana Jones. He shouldn't - "Crystal Skull" is a fine addition to the franchise but my opinion is the minority (and will be expressed in a detailed analysis of the virtues of Crystal Skull at a later date).

Why Shutter Island is more than about a single, predictable twist

"Shutter Island" faced a troubling dilemma not unlike M. Night Shyamalan's films: everyone kind of figured out the big twist. The truth is that there is more than meets the eye - Scorsese's "Shutter Island" (and Dennis Lehane's dark novel) is not simply about a twist but about a twisted mind. Leonardo DiCaprio is Teddy, a Bostonian federal marshal who along with his partner, Chuck (Mark Ruffalo), enter the doomed island of Shutter Island where a mental hospital for the criminally insane exists. There is the curious disappearance of a female patient, or is there? The doctors and orderly staff are elusive for details - is there a cover-up? And who is the 67th patient, a clue discovered alarmingly by Teddy in what looks like a mathematical equation I couldn't solve in high school.

Yes, spoilers ahead, you are right if you think Teddy is the 67th patient. The question is what sort of patient is he, what really happened to his wife (hauntingly played by Michelle Williams)? Did she die in a fire or is she someone else? Is Teddy really a federal marshal? Is the mental hospital a place of entrapment and do they perform experimental surgeries or practice lobotomies?

The fact is that Scorsese places us right inside Teddy's mind, and we see his world as only Scorsese knows how. There are flashbacks to WW2, especially the death camps, to his home life in possibly happier times, and so on. But do we trust what Teddy sees? Is there really a woman in the caves hiding out from the doctors who used to be one? Is he seeing hallucinations or only what he wants to see? Water plays a big part in "Shutter Island," not to mention torrential storms. It is the kind of place that one can imagine having seen in black-and-white in the days of Universal horror flicks.

The cast is impeccable, including Ben Kingsley and Max von Sydow as rigid doctors who may or may not be threatening. There is one frightening bit of business from Ted Levine as the warden who delivers a speech on violence that is earth-shattering. DiCaprio proves his worth with a role that requires more disciplined rage than anything he has done before, including Scorsese's "The Departed."

"Shutter Island" is more ominous yet less tinged with humor than Dennis Lehane's book. No matter - this  psychological thriller is tough, demanding, extremely dark and unsettling. Yeah, there is a twist but it is more about the bulk of the narrative in getting there that matters. And then it throws in an epilogue that will leave you haunted and tormented.