The Need To Impede

(Need For Speed Review And Rant By Neamo)

Returning quickly back to my embittered roots, I shall once more delve into the murky waters of ineptitude with this cosmic horror of a film. The Need For Speed! I will start this by quickly assuring you I had no real desire to watch this film. Racing movies, as a whole tend to be written with the elegance and sophistication of a drunk uncle at a family gathering, racist, crass and generally with little to no basis in truth. Needless to say, I was decidedly unenthused about the entire affair, and would have listened to my gut instinct save for my need to socialize and my endearing and enduring love toward Breaking Bad. How does Breaking Bad, one of the shining achievements of this decade of entertainment, line in to what is essentially a poor clone of The Fast And The Furious? Well it's lead protagonist is played by Aaron Paul, a man who played Jessie Pinkman in one of the most soul rending and at the same time hilarious performances I've ever been privileged to witness, so when I tell you that his name was enough to make me attempt to shelve deeply preconceived notions of film, you will I hope understand. This review took time to complete, and it is late, partly because of the difficulty in writing it but also because of internal struggles that lock into place when I try to criticize an actor who I know full well is capable of far more, and I hope you'll forgive that. With that in mind, let's proceed.

The Need For Speed starts, as does any film involving any form of vehicle nowadays for 'emphasis' in a garage. Tobey Marshall's father has just passed on leaving his son in debt with a gang of misfits friends who act as his mechanics. A mechanic but also a racer, Marshall takes out his frustration in a quick street race, during which he nearly kills a vagrant. That isn't central to the plot of course, and it isn't mentioned afterward save for a joking laugh between he and the onlooking pilot friend of his who serves as the token comic relief in this ensemble group of young adult misfits. When a former girlfriend of Marshall's breezes in to town with her boyfriend Dino Brewster, Brewster has plans for the debt addled mechanic and proposes a deal, a one time job refitting a mythical Shelby Mustang which appears to have been lost to time immemorial. Marshall, though having some unspoken past beef with Brewster agrees to take on the job and once repaired the car is sold. Marshall then bets his stake on his share of the money with Brewster through little coercion in a race, using one of the fabulously wealthy Brewster's imported vehicles. Marshall's friend and brother to the fore mentioned Ex decides to jump in, and acts much like our redshirt in quickly getting himself killed. Brewster leaves the scene and the car crash behind in the sights of his mirror and Marshall returns to the charred remains of his friend to have an angst ridden cry. In a kangaroo court scene that shows no evidence of true forensics, the police then incarcerate Marshall for manslaughter and two years later he walks away free with a new tattoo and a lust for vengeance. Asking to borrow the fixed mustang, the sales agent Julia agrees and arrives with it on the condition that Marshall get into the promised 'big race', a highly illegal but notoriously popularized street race held through some form of podcast. Driving across America and drawing as much attention to himself as possible, he is accepted into the race, bonds with the haughty Julia and after having the Mustang trashed drives to victory in the car that killed his friend, which proves in some way of convenience that Brewster masterminded World War 2. Fireworks.

No. No. I'm not going to talk about the plot. I'm not going to talk about the special effects or the musical score. I'm not even going to delve into the finer points that I would have liked to have seen changed or the nuances of film captured on screen. I won't do it. I'm not being paid for this and I simply refuse. The film was trash, and I have no desire to attempt to give it any form of real critique. I was admittedly saddened by Michael Keaton's performance, but it's something unfortunately I've come to expect of veteran actors who are in need of a quick buck. It certainly wasn't the worst thing in this film but it was not something I felt any real emotion other than disdain for. No, what I shall instead talk about in the form of a personal message is Aaron Paul.
 

I could see immediately that the dialogue wasn't good, and that he himself attempted to give some edge to it or bring the honed skills and persona of Breaking Bad into this festering wagon of shit. I could see it, and yet at the same time there is only so much polish you can put on a turd, given the size and consistency of the manure. The fact of the matter is, no matter how much grit he tried to infuse into his performance, or pressure he exerted into the role itself, it remained too moist and squirted through his fingers to leave a foul trail in it's wake. I don't blame him in this sense, I blame the film. My gripe is with the fact he took the role in the first place. I understand, drug dealer to illegal street racer isn't an enormous leap and I imagine it would have felt like a safe zone for him, but the fact of the matter is he has the talent and hype to select his roles, to choose them carefully and forge a career onward. There are better films and likewise premises for movies, and I have honest to god no fucking idea why anyone in his position would have picked up the script. I'm angry, both for him and for the fact that he is in this film, and while I can put it down to the mistake of an impressionable actor, it will not wash away the stain of disappointment.

In closing, I would like to end this with a heartened plea. Do not watch this film. Don't even pirate it, and increase the stream of downloads. Simply let this... This thing die, and watch Breaking Bad instead. It's a much better investment of your time, and it doesn't promote cancer. I may have burst a blood vessel in my head due to unexpected but sudden rage. Send help.

Praising Mr. Banks

 

 (Saving Mr. Banks Review By Neamo)

Looking back over my recent articles, namely the only articles I have in fact written, I would feel remiss if I didn't try to impress upon you that I'm not the pedantic asshole I'm portraying myself as. I do in fact garner an enormous amount of enjoyment from movies, television and the entertainment industry at large, and while the soul of an angst riddled pessimist lurks deep in the hollow edifice of my chest, there are things I actually do enjoy. I'll be the first to admit I'm overtly critical of flaws, and part of the enjoyment in of a film for me is the ability to find fault, which is easy as perfection is rare to non existent and movies are numerous. I enjoy critiquing good movies and in a similar although far more venomous facet, ripping meaty chunks from things I detest. It's a nice way to while away my evening hours, and if nothing else it provides me with an outlet for the building toxins and bile that would otherwise take a team of trained Swiss physicians years to drain from my various bloated orifices. I'll be the first to admit, it's easier to criticize than glorify and in many ways it's more fun to write, which is handy as perpetual fawning is the mark of a fanboy, and no one likes a fanboy. In light of that, I thought I would review something I enjoyed to change pace, and perhaps so that I can sleep easier tonight knowing that I'm picky, not pretentious.

Saving Mr. Banks is the true story of how P.L.Travers, a haughty relic of the prim and proper days before modern indulgence, falls upon hard times financially and agrees to sell a characteristically charismatic Walt Disney the rights to her book Mary Poppins, with a set of otherwise impossible proviso's that ultimately aren't adhered to. That's one way to look at the film's story, and it isn't an incorrect one, the events surmised are the events that take place and ultimately as a premise for a film in of itself, it isn't the most captivating plot. There are no grand chase scenes, no great sweeping romances or life altering events, so if that is what you are looking for, this Disney film is not for you. Instead through flash backs during her time with Disney we see the fairly traumatic back history of a woman subdued and embittered by a deeply rooted father complex that has dictated much of her life today. A gambler, a drunk, a dreamer and an idol, his fall from grace into the depths of alcoholism destroyed much of her family and left a road map of emotional scars in her otherwise damaged psyche. In her interactions with Walt and her driver, we see the dreamer suppressed rise once more, and while the change is gradual it renders heart and soul in her development and bloom. That being said, take this all with an oceanic pinch of salt as, being a Disney true story, the emotional story and change of perception within are conjecture to ease the film into the realm of the sentimental. My prior assessment is truer to the actual events as they transpired in life.

The acting of the film is pretty phenomenal. Whilst I could rightly say it's driven by sentiment and implicitly sickly sweet in portion, which it is I'll grant you as this is a Disney movie, the character portrayals stand far and above the shallow portrayal I had dubiously expected when embarking upon it. I'm not casting aspersions on the actors or indeed the company at large, but the trailer footage and general air of promotion around this film suggested a heart warming family tale, and that often leads down a slippery slope greased with Hollywood butter and sweetener. It wasn't that. With a performance of clear and honed conviction as P.L.Travers, Emma Thompson reminded me quickly of her acting credentials which had been forgotten prior in a slew of film for paycheck releases that had left little to flatter. She is an incredible actress, as evident by works I shall no doubt review at another time, and she acted much as a supporting pillar for this film with her sharp candor and depth of dry wit. It was a true performance, and it made the development though gradual of her emotional journey all the more poignant in an ending scene that gave a genuine tug at the heart strings. Tom Hanks in the same breath provided a perfect foil as the faintly sardonic but irrepressibly charming Walt Disney. There is something innately likeable about Tom Hanks that I'm frankly perplexed by, an innate charm to his on screen performances that is difficult to emulate and impossible to describe, and he brings the same undeniable presence to Disney that attracted audiences to the lovable thespian in many of his other roles. While as a critic I find it irritating to settle with the description charming, it is the best suited word for his performance. Paul Giamatti will go down in the annuls of history as being one of the most underrated actors of this generation, and his performance likewise was warm and heartening without giving an air of falsehood, and the supporting cast including the talented B.J. Novak, Jason Schwartzman and the sobering Colin Farrell all play their part in a fantastic way.

The setting was certainly fine, though to say more of it would be a little facetious as it was set almost entirely within an office or in the flash backs of Travers Australian home. Fine is the appropriate word, as I didn't feel myself awed by the setting or scenery, and I don't believe I should have. It was intended to be real to life, and the majestic realm of Disney theatrics would have only distracted from the main cast. The musical score was a joy to behold as, although it consists of songs that are essentially the clones of those from Mary Poppins, they are used to aid in the dynamics of the story itself which is no mean feat. Giving a sense of lyrical exploration, each word takes meaning beyond the childhood jingles of old, and we are left with a sense of deep rediscovery that both warms and heartens.

It's difficult to critique, and it's possible I'm avoiding it for the sheer pleasure the film brought me. While there are hairline faults if examined closely, I shall on this occasion leave them without highlight as I am pleased if nothing else to talk of it's merits without hindrance. A special film, with a special place in my heart. I would advise watching it.