Halloween pick: The Innkeepers

The horror genre seems to have devolved into a tiresome stream of gory torture schlock, contrived self parody and pseudo documentary realism. Even the documentary-style subgenre has begun to parody itself. So when a film comes along that is genuinely enjoyable to watch, it's something worth mentioning. In a field overstuffed with Calvin Klein underwear models, overly stereotyped geeks and nerds and perky-breasted bimbos, The Innkeepers is a revivifying gulp of cold, pure mountain water. It's far from perfect. The story is a bit thin and predictable and the ending decidedly dissatisfying, but the characters are so delectable, the dialogue so genuine and the humor so disarming that one cannot help but enjoy the ride no matter where it is going.

The Innkeepers tells the story of two ne'er-do-wells, Luke (Pat Healy) and Claire (Sara Paxton), who work at a failing hotel that will soon be closing its doors. Luke is a would-be ghost hunter who claims to have seen the spirit that haunts the hotel, a woman who, after being jilted by her fiance, hangs herself in the hotel. The story goes that the owners of the inn, fearing bad publicity from the suicide, hid the body in the cellar (they refer to it as a basement in the film, but, really, it's a cellar) for three days. Naturally, her restless spirit continues to haunt the hallways of the Yankee Pedlar Inn. Zoinks!

On its surface, The Innkeepers is a traditional, even hackneyed, ghost story. The events—and the tale of jilted bride—unfold rather predictably. But what makes the film enjoyable has nothing to do with the ghost story or even the haunting. It's the two main characters. As long as they're onscreen doing something, anything, Healy and Paxton keep the audience tuned in and fully engaged. Luke and Claire are two of the most likable characters I've ever seen in a horror film, and their interactions are both genuine and hilarious. Claire is lovably dorky and aimless, while Luke is jaded and apathetic. While serving the few guests staying at the inn, Luke works on his web page devoted to hauntings. It's the typical, cheap-looking, home page that proliferated back in the '90s, but Claire praises him for it nonetheless.

Perhaps because of its context within a haunted-house horror film, the antics of the two hotel employees are entertainingly goofy. The Innkeepers feels at first like it's aimed at a younger audience. There's a Goonies kind of geekiness in Claire and Luke that draws us in. I stopped the film once just to confirm that it came with an R rating. Amid the comedy—sometimes even slaptick humor—I couldn't quite believe that this was, in fact, a horror film with an R rating.

In what is one of the funniest scenes I've ever witnessed, Claire struggles to haul a heavy, leaking bag of garbage out to the dumpster. It is laugh-aloud funny because her behavior is so true to human nature. It's funny because it's real. In the same circumstances, I behave in exactly the same way. And I applaud the filmmaking genius that had the patience to allow that dumpster scene to play out to its fullest. It would have been so simple to make it a quick ha-ha laugh and then move along with the overall goal of scaring the audience. Instead, the slaptick continued until finally reaching the inevitable conclusion. It's for scenes like this that I appreciate The Innkeepers so much in spite of its shortcomings as a horror film. In so many ways, it defies the common sense of the genre.

The humor, naturally, belies the horror that is to come, and we know it. It's easy to fall into the trap of enjoying the inanity and banality that make up two main characters' lives and forgetting that something scary is going to happen. The movie slowly eases into the haunted house story, and Claire's ghost hunting almost feels like a subplot. The audience knows, of course, that Claire will come into contact with the infamous spirit stalking the Yankee Pedlar. Once the wheels are set in motion, the spooky ride barrels forward through both suspenseful and comedic moments on its way to an ultimately disappointing ending.

Luke and Claire play host to three different guests along the way (well, maybe four or five if you count the ghosts and bumps in the night): an estranged wife and her child, spiritualist and former TV actress Leanne Rease-Jones (Kelly McGillis) and a mysterious old man. McGillis is rock solid as the cigarette-smoking, vodka guzzling former TV star, at once sporting an air of royalty while becoming something of a confidant to Claire.

Rease-Jones plays an important role in helping Claire communicate with the Inn's supernatural resident(s). Rease-Jones reveals to her that there are actually three spirits present at the Inn and warns her to stay out of the basement. Once the warning is issued, the audience knows very well that Claire is going to end up in the basement, and, in fact, that's where the climax of the film  takes place.

Where the film falls short is in leaving too many loose ends. The audience is left to wonder why it ended the way it did. What was the purpose of that climactic scene? What are the motives that drove it to its conclusion? We can speculate about the identity of the old man. Oh, it seems pretty obvious on the surface, but if one accepts that conclusion, then it makes the climax all the more puzzling. What is Claire's role in all of this? The ending could be a contrivance designed to avoid the predictable outcome dictated by the hackneyed ghost story. It's easy for the audience to see the Scooby-Doo climax coming, so to ensure that doesn't happen, the plot takes a different direction and is allowed devolve into something else, something we've come to expect in the horror genre. I'm speculating here because I can't fathom much about why it turns out the way it does. It's not that I want the Scooby-Doo ending; I just want something that makes sense and resolves the conflict central to the ghost story. I can speculate much about what it really means, but that's all it is—speculation. And if it means what I think it does, making the "jilted lover" something of a red herring, then the audience needs more explanation about what's going on, especially in terms of Claire's role.

The pattern is in place, the clues are there, but the film ultimately fails to connect the dots. While I can appreciate that on one level, I find the ending dissatisfying. I am obviously avoiding revealing any details that would spoil the story, but the solution to the seeming mystery is certainly open to discussion. Something is missing here that is essential to the story's realizing its full potential. I'd love to see the filmmakers go back and do a director's cut that fills in the gaps and completes the story.

Many viewers will no doubt judge this film harshly for its shortcomings. I found myself pleasantly surprised by how thoroughly enjoyable the movie is in spite of its faults. The characters, dialogue and humor are just plain fun to experience. Some people will say there's too much humor for this to be taken seriously as a horror film, but it certainly does have its suspenseful moments. If nothing else, the suspense works because it contrasts so well with the humor. I cannot say enough about how much I love these characters. Claire and Luke will live forever in my mind as two of the most memorable characters ever to step onto a horror set. If the movie were ever spun off into, say, a TV series with Paxton and Healy reprising their roles, I'd tune in every week regardless of the quality of the story just see these two acting their parts.

The Innkeepers may not satisfy the desire for the typical nail-biting, gory thriller, but it is nonetheless highly enjoyable. And, yes, it is currently streaming on Netflix, so add it to your Instant Queue.

Oh, no! You sank my movie!

I don't believe I've ever watched a movie that made less sense than Battleship, the movie inexplicably based on the board game of the same name. Taylor Kitsch and Alexander Skarsgard star as unlikely brothers Alex Hopper and Stone Hopper, respectively, one an officer in the navy, the other a down-and-out, unemployed loser. Older brother Stone tries to convince younger brother Alex to join the navy, but Alex is more interested in the curvy blonde who has suddenly appeared in search of a chicken burrito. And that's where everything begins rolling down the Baffling Highway of Inexplicable  and Senseless Events.

Alex somehow goes from breaking into a convenience store, stealing a chicken burrito, destroying property, resisting arrest and being tased to becoming a commander in the US Navy. One could begin making jokes about how selective the Navy is with its recruits. As absurd as it sounds, this is just one of the many head-slappingly unbelievable events that put severe strain on suspension of disbelief—even in this sci-fi actioner. Had this been a made-for-Saturday-morning-TV movie released in the '90s, it could have become a popular classic among the younger crowd. Unfortunately, it's just impossible to take seriously a movie like this being released on the big screen.

After Hopper lands command of his own ship in the US Navy, the aliens appear with the apparent intent of launching an invasion to conquer the Earth. Well, at least that's what the audience is expected to believe—in spite of all evidence to the contrary. The alien race possesses military technology far beyond that possessed by the US Navy—yet time and again they don't utilize it to their full advantage. They can swat us Earth humans around like flies, yet they allow us to one-by-one destroy every ship in their reconnaissance fleet. In addition to artillery that resembles the pegs used to sink ships in the board game (this was obviously intentional), the alien arsenal also includes spinning, fiery balls of doom that can chew through metal like wet cardboard. They could easily have launched a few of these to eat through every single weapon the humans possess. Instead they sit around waiting for the insects to attack them with their puny weapons and slowly demolish everything they have.

Oh, but this is, after all, just a reconnaissance mission for the aliens. They're just here to send a message back to the homeworld about a plump fruit ripe for the picking. Never mind that the reconnaissance forces themselves seem to be more than a match for anything the Earth can throw at them. Naturally, the humans, against all the odds prevail because of their tenacity and ingenuity in the face of insurmountable obstacles. And the gullible audience is expected to rejoice in the triumph of the underdog, assuming that the homeworld won't miss the reconnaissance mission or will have decided that the Earth is just too powerful for them to conquer.

The movie really just doesn't make much sense, but it does offer up plenty of moments that tug at American heartstrings. And, if I may digress for a moment, that is another of the film's great failings. Like many other films, it suffers from being solidly planted in an American perspective with blinders firmly in place. After all, if an alien race is going to launch an invasion of Earth, it would certainly be the US Navy it confronts. Because nobody else has any weapons to bring to bear.

But if we can ignore such shortsightedness, then we will surely be moved by the double-amputee military veteran who has the courage to go toe-to-toe with one of the alien brutes, pounding it with one right cross after another until several of its teeth go flying. And who could possibly be immune to the emotional appeal of the WWII veterans who help Hopper launch the USS Missouri into the battle? Even the movie's token geek steps up to inspire the audience with unlikely bravery. Ultimately, however, it is Hopper's rise from ne'er-do-well to hero that provides the films strongest moment.

The movie counts on emotional appeals to please the audience because, quite frankly, it's got nothing else in the tank. This is an empty, illogical, senseless mess that nevertheless manages to make us—some of us at least—raise our fists in triumph and belt out a loud "Hurrah!"

Additional thoughts on Amazing Spider-Man

One interesting aspect of The Amazing Spider-Man is that it breaks an archetypal rule that has existed in comic superherodom from the beginning: Spider-Man's secret identity isn't much of a secret. Gwen Stacy knows who he is; he reveals himself to Stacy's father and the Lizard discovers who he is and one might even speculate that the shadowy figure at the end of the film also knows the secret.

Obviously, this kind of thing can only go so far. At some point you have to realize that the arachnid will be out of the proverbial funnel web, and then there's not much reason to wear a mask. Luckily, Capt. Stacy won't be telling anyone, although it's a pity Denis Leary won't be coming back—unless his ghost decides to haunt Parker and hound him at every turn for breaking his promise.

We can only hope that future installments will feature some of the more interesting Spider-Man villains. And maybe the sequels won't feel so rough and unedited. This first film really needed a really nasty editor to say, "No, we're not doing that."

Somewhat amazing, anyway: A review of The Amazing Spider-Man

Why? Why are we doing this again? It's nearly impossible not to pose this question as one watches The Amazing Spider-Man, a reboot of the big screen franchise featuring everyone's favorite wall crawler. Some will call this a remake, and while there's some truth to that, the latest film is more of a do-over, a restart. It's a chance to go back and focus on some different aspects of the central character, Peter Parker, and to introduce some new characters who figured prominently in the comic book, including love interest Gwen Stacy.

After the third film in the previous series, it's easy to see why a reboot was warranted, but does this one do the Webslinger justice? It's definitely a mixed bag of scenes and themes that work well and others that could very well have been left to the splicer.

It's mostly the early sequences of the film that fall flat and seem overly contrived. Andrew Garfield is fine as the always disheveled Parker, and who can't like Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy? Denis Leary appears as Gwen's police captain father and Rhys Ifans as the tragic figure of Peter's scientist friend Dr. Curt Connors.

The problem with the first 30-plus minutes of the film is that it's little more than a rehash of what we already know happens to Peter. And the sequences depicting his struggle to control and understand his newfound powers are contrived and often just plain silly. The film could very well have done without the entire scene on the subway in which Peter inadvertently strips a girl of her outer clothing and then proceeds to fend off a host of would-be vigilantes coming to her aid. None of this is really very funny or entertaining unless you're five years old. And let's not even mention the monster lizard rat. Even in a modern comic book such a thing would be dismissed out of hand as simply absurd.

And why are we rehashing the Spider-Man origin story again in the first place? There are some minor changes, but the core of the Spider-Man mythos remains intact. So why retell it? Given that Peter's love interest is now Gwen Stacy instead of Mary Jane Watson, couldn't the action of this film have been joined in medias res and the origin changes conveyed via flashbacks? This, arguably, would have made the film as a whole less contrived and more of an independent entity of its own.

Among the aspects of the film that work very well is the depiction of Peter as more of a typical, willful teenager rather than the syrupy goodness that was the Tobey Maguire Parker. The behavior that leads to the eventual death of Uncle Ben feels more real and less contrived than it did in the previous version. The same lesson about using super powers responsibly is conveyed, although in the form of a more powerful declaration that Spider-Man has a moral obligation to use his powers to help others. Peter makes mistakes and regrets them and seems all the more like a real person because of it.

The Amazing Spider-Man is also a film of strong emotions. Many scenes, including the death of Uncle Ben and the aftereffects of his death, are genuinely moving. Other powerful scenes include the climax of the final battle with the Lizard and Spider-Man's rooftop heart-to-heart with Captain Stacy. Parker's promise to Captain Stacy is heart wrenching and we know will lead to future conflicts.

The action focuses primarily on Dr. Connors and his desire to discover how humans may re-grow limbs like other species. He has a vested interest in the research because he has lost one his arms. The answer to the puzzle, he is certain, lies in being able to splice human DNA with that of species capable of regeneration. This same genetic research also leads to the bite that turns mild-mannered Peter Parker into the wisecracking Spider-Man.

One thing is certain: Our science has moved us beyond the simplistic idea that radiation can turn normal people into super-heroes, that the bite of an irradiated spider can make someone stronger and faster and able to climb walls. So at least the gene splicing gives us a sense of plausibility in the reboot, and instead of shooting web out of his wrists as in the Tobey Maguire version, this Spider-Man is more in keeping with the comic book version wherein a special formula derived from research allows Webhead to devise his own web shooters.

There is one very notable--and perhaps unforgivable--omission in this rehash: J. Jonah Jameson is nowhere to be found. Can we have Spider-Man without his greatest non-super-powered nemesis? I suppose casting Jameson would have been difficult if J. K. Simmons were not reprising his role. Still, I find it difficult to imagine any Spider-Man franchise without the cigar-chomping news editor.

The Amazing Spider-Man is far from a great film, but it's certainly not a failure either. Aside from introducing movie-going audiences to one of Spider-Man's most intriguing villains in the Lizard, this film seems to be going through the motions as more of an introduction to the new series. Much of it, I argue, is completely unnecessary. If you eliminate the contrivances the sole purpose of which are to re-establish an entirely new Spider-Man, it's an engaging and thoroughly enjoyable movie. The contrived scenes and some occasionally dreadful dialogue are jarring and even awkward. If the next installment can stay away from these mistakes, this could be a stronger franchise than the original.

Not so Safe House

In Safe House Ryan Reynolds reprises his role as Green Lantern to battle the nefarious Mr. Frost, played by Denzel Washington, whose superpowers include the ability to beat people up really badly and inject data capsules into his body where nobody will find them. Unfortunately, Hal Jordan has somehow managed to lose his ring and gets beat up a lot and stabbed with broken glass. And his driver's license has probably been revoked because he wrecks a lot of cars.

Okay, so Reynolds actually takes on the role of Matt Weston, a CIA "housekeeper," someone whose job is to watch over a safe house for field operatives and to maintain the safety of any "house guests" who arrive for a little enhanced interrogation. It seems like a pretty nice gig, really. You just sit around in a highly secure place with all kinds of doors with security keypads and a nice fridge stocked with fruits, soft drinks, plasma and medicines. Yeah, you know, just like the stuff you have in your fridge right now. I guess the whole idea of showing that scene of the refrigerator contents was to let you know what kind of apartment this is, but it was kind of a moot point, given that, you know, the title of the movie sort of gives it away.

The only problem with landing a nice job like this where you get paid lots of money to sit around bouncing a tennis ball off the wall and lying to your girlfriend about working at a clinic is that inevitably Hollywood will come along and want to shoot the place up.

So when Tobin Frost arrives, poor Hal, I mean Matt, is forced to do some real tough-guy stuff like hijack a car, drive it really, really fast, get shot at and beat up and actually shoot people himself.

Reynolds is actually pretty good as the in-over-his-head Weston. He is convincing as the idealistic agent whose worldview is flipped on its side by the jaded traitor Frost. We learn early in the film that Frost is a bad dude--in multiple senses of the term. But you can't help feeling he's not all rotten to the core, and the idea that he and Weston will become allies at some point is inescapable. Because the focus of the film is on Frost and Weston, the other characters are more placeholders than anything else, with Brendan Gleeson playing Weston's boss, Vera Farmiga as the agent in charge of the operation to secure and interrogate Frost, and Sam Shephard as CIA Director Harlan Whitford. Their jobs are just to act as Hollywood expects us to believe CIA personnel behave, which is both bad and good.

The movie opens with a glimpse of Weston's life as a housekeeper. He has a girlfriend, played by Nora Arnezeder, to whom he must lie about what he's really doing. The film makes Weston's job seem insufferably boring. He's alone in a place that looks like a well-stocked bomb shelter. He seems to spend most of his time listening to music and bouncing that ball off the wall.

And then the phone rings and his life takes a drastic turn. Frost, fleeing a group of armed men hellbent on recovering the data he's just received from a contact, has walked into an embassy and got himself nabbed by the CIA to be dragged to Weston's safe house. It seems that Frost is a bad guy who sells classified information to anybody with a suitable amount of cash. What's on the data capsule he carries that warrants constant pursuit from armed men who manage to find him wherever he goes? Well, that's the big mystery in the film.

In spite of the presence of well-armed and well-trained military men, the safe house is invaded, turned upside down and all of the military personnel killed. Weston is forced to flee with Frost in tow because it's his duty to take care of his guests. "In brightest day, in blackest night ..."

We saw this coming, of course. So, too, could we predict Frost's escape and Weston's determination to get him back. The first idea we get that maybe Frost isn't all bad comes when he has the opportunity to kill Weston but does not, telling him, "I only kill professionals." At first this appears to be a taunt, an insult to the bungling, amateurish Weston, who seems in over his head and out of his element. Jason Bourne he is not. He's the guy that sits in a safe house bouncing a tennis ball off the wall. And wondering where he lost that ring. It is revealed later, however, that the taunt is more a kind of code Frost follows and instructs Weston to also follow.

Everything sorts itself out rather predictably, but the action is fast paced and the tension is thick. You'd have to be pretty dense not to know who the real bad guy is. Weston emerges as a sympathetic character, but you can't help admiring Frost's confidence and presence. That may be Washington's strength as an actor: He has a real screen presence and does the cocky, badass role very well. He nonchalantly shoots bad guys like tossing a wad of paper into a waste basket.

Many will harp on the movie's predictability, but it's not really not the point to deliver up surprising plot twists. The focus is on the characters of Weston and Frost and how their relationship evolves throughout the film. It also challenges our perceptions of what it means to be a "bad" person in the world of lies and subterfuge. The characters and situations here are light years from the old westerns in which the bad guys wore the black hats. Even then things were never so clear cut, but the waters are even muddier now.

The film ends in different kinds of triumph for both Weston and Frost. Weston learns that his idealism has been built on a sham, that his purpose served a cause that didn't really exist. His path in life has been forever altered by his experience. Frost manages to regain his humanity and in the process finds redemption. Thought it would be easy to think that Weston will follow Frost's path, the evidence suggests otherwise. It is clear that Weston is not frost and that he will in fact do as Frost instructed and be a better person than he.

As a thriller Safe House comes up a bit short for its predictability, but as a story examining the inevitable collision of two men seemingly on different sides of the spy game, it delivers an engaging character study that's worth watching.

Good news: Sherlock to return for a third series!

Okay, so it's not really news. The announcement was made back in January that Holmes and Watson would be  teaming up again for another run, but it gives me a good excuse to offer up some praise for series creators Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (who also plays Sherlock's brother Mycroft), as well as for actors Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock) and Martin Freeman (Watson).

What's so great about Sherlock? I'm sure many will wonder. We've seen dozens of retellings of the adventures of Arthur Conan Doyle's character, the most famous detective in history. What's so special about this one?

Let's start with the setting. It's not so much the where, but the when. No, this is not your traditional Sherlock Holmes, scouring for clues in signature deerstalker cap. This is a modern reimagining of the character and the original stories. Modern technology figures prominently in the stories. Watson, for example, writes a blog about the cases he and Holmes are investigating, and the blog itself figures in some plot elements. In one episode, a cell phone and the data it holds is the key to a case. It's obvious to see that an important premise of the series deals with how the world's greatest detective would utilize modern technology. What if Sherlock Holmes had access to forensic evidence and computer technology? You can see the many answers in every episode. Technology is often used to put a new twist on Conan Doyle's stories, for example in the episode "The Hounds of Baskerville." But it's nice to know that the technology can't provide all the answers; it's more about the logic and the cunning Sherlock employs in utilizing the technology and, at times, even outsmarting it.

It's not just the idea of dusting off some old books and throwing them into a modern setting. Posing the serious question of what if Holmes and Watson were alive today is central to the series. Instead of using some contrivance such as time travel or doing down the path of making this Holmes the great-great-great grandson of the original, Moffat and Gatiss have opted for a kind of modern reboot. Because of that, it works very well in context. And the show has a lot of fun playing with the traditional images of the character. Cumberbatch's Holmes never wears a hat, but he is given a deerstalker in one episode as a gift from an adoring fan. He finds himself reluctantly obligated to wear it a couple of times.

Another appeal of the series is the strong characters. Moffat's Holmes is arrogant and patronizing, sometimes callous and borderline amoral. As he remarked in one episode, "I'm not a psychopath; I'm a highly functioning sociopath." He delivers analyses and punchlines with machine-gun rapidity and impact. Holmes is at his worst in  his uncaring treatment of Molly. His treatment of her is often excruciating, though he does finally tell her in one episode that he needs her.

While he is often insensitive to the feelings of others and even uses them to suit his needs, Sherlock nevertheless acts on their behalf to protect them and genuinely seems to care. And there are times, especially when Holmes matches wits with arch-nemesis Moriarty, that he seems vulnerable and appears to doubt his intellectual prowess. The balance between these extremes ultimately makes his callousness endearing and even provides much humor.

Juxtaposed against the cold, analytical Holmes is the sensitive, insecure Watson. John Watson is a war veteran, a former army medic and is, psychologically and physically, damaged. When he first meets Holmes, John walks with a limp and uses a cane to get around. Sherlock declares the problem to be psychosomatic and then tricks Watson into not only walking without the cane, but running. In many respects, John is the straight man to Holmes' often comically manic and obsessive actions. But Watson's good intentions often result in some of the most amusing moments in the series. At one point while investigating at night John sees a flashing light in the distance. He determines that it must be someone sending a message in Morse code and so attempts to decipher it. The results aren't exactly what anyone expected, especially when he investigates the source of the mysterious blinking. At moments like this, you want to cheer Watson for being clever, but it's another example of his failing to match the brilliance of his partner. John is often on hand to help bring some sanity to Holmes' methods and to smooth things over when Sherlock insults others, as he tends to do.

Cumberbatch makes a fine Sherlock and Freeman seems the perfect Watson. Gatiss is appropriately royal as Sherlock's government official brother, and Andrew Scott is fairly detestable as the nefarious Moriarty. It's a fine cast that meshes well. All in all, the characters are very likable—or appropriately despicable. Even the despicable ones are likably so.

In Sherlockian tradition, each episode features its share of puzzles that leave the audience guessing. Most of the time the guessing comes in the form of trying to predict how exactly Holmes will solve the mystery or figure his way out of a predicament. The series offers up a fine share of twists and surprises to keep viewers on their toes. The action is often so chaotic you don't quite have enough time to figure it all out. It's hard enough just to keep up with the collective train of thought of the series.

What may be the most enjoyable part of the show, however, is the humor. Between Holmes' antics, Watson's apologies and the unpredictable actions of many characters, the show is one of the most knee-slappingly funny I've ever watched. You can never quite predict just how Holmes will respond to another character, but you know it's going to be irreverent, inappropriate or, to some varying degree, in bad taste. And you can't help but feel a bit sorry for Watson to have put up with it all. There's plenty of sympathy for Mrs. Hudson as well, as she never knows quite what she's going to find when she opens the fridge. Why she even does it any more is beyond me, but she seems to have this compulsion to be offended by its contents.

The worst part about the show is that each "series" spans but three episodes. Each episode is an hour and half in length, but the end of each series comes all too quickly. The wait between Series 1 and Series 2 seemed interminable. And now I'm left wondering when those of us in the States will finally get to see Series 3. I can't help wondering what it would be like to see these characters on the big screen. The problem is, any movie shorter than three hours just wouldn't be enough, I'm afraid.

I cannot recommend Sherlock highly enough. In the sea of everything else you can watch on TV, this one is a sheer delight.

John Carter: Don't buy the anti-hype

A cliche that has floated around for decades states, "Don't believe the hype." It's a simple idea that hyperbolic claims about something tend to lead to disappointment, that the underlying substance usually fails to live up to the assertions. Hype is much like fiction in that the tale, to paraphrase a well-known writer, tends to grow in the telling. The bigger the hype, the bigger the disappointment in the final product.

The same can be said of negative hype, or "anti-hype," if you will. The more vitriol you hear about something, the less terrible you realize it must actually be.

While I concede that some movies deserve much of the criticism they receive, it often seems that deliberate forces are at work to undermine others, in much the same way that politicians employ attack ads against their opponents.

And that brings me to the recent rental release John Carter, aka John Carter of Mars, aka A Princess of Mars (if we want to link it to its Edgar Rice Burroughs source material), directed by Andrew Stanton and starring Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins. This film suffered greatly from negative hype. Rumors about various problems swirled about as its box office release date approached. The title of the film was even changed before its debut, with various excuses provided. The budget was huge, there were production problems, and there was just no way Disney was going to recoup all of its investment. In short, John Carter was a dismal failure.

The truth is, John Carter is not such a bad movie after all. The saddest part is that it was indeed a failure at the box office and may be declared one of the biggest bombs of all time. Frankly, I have seen far worse films that performed far better at the box office.

That is not to say that John Carter is a great movie, but it does have enough in the way of story, special effects and action to make it pretty darned good. And at its core it does offer a fine look at the development of the titular character.

One reason stated for the title change from John Carter of Mars to simply John Carter was to show the progression of the character from a Virginia Civil War veteran who'd lost hope to a man of Mars who'd found a reason to live. In keeping with this idea, the final title screen displays the title as John Carter of Mars. I found this to be a fitting touch, and it truly felt like a triumphant moment.

Unlike many movies that hit the big screen—especially those in the SF and fantasy genre—John Carter is a patient film that is happy to let the character and story develop over time. Beyond the special effects, the action, the romance and even the humor, this above all else makes it worth watching. Most films seem to want to rush headlong from start to finish, story be damned. The more explosions, fights and gunshots, the better. Most people will say John Carter dragged at times. I say it's at those moments that the most critical character development occurs.

And it's the character of John Carter that makes the film. You find yourself liking him from the start. He's willful, cantankerous, resourceful, and he's apathetic, a man who has lost hope. The reason for his despair unfolds over time throughout the film, revealed to us as fragmentary flashbacks until a final, drawn-out scene during an epic battle reveals his pain and loss in bitter full. It is a powerful and moving image, one of the best I've seen in any film of this genre.

You cannot help wanting John Carter to find himself, to regain some measure of purpose and happiness in his life. When it finally happens, it is a satisfying moment. And that is the best way to describe how I felt at the end of this film. It was fulfilling and satisfying.

It's not a perfect movie. There are certainly plenty of awkward moments of unintentional humor. The scene in which Carter is trying to learn how to walk on a planet of lesser gravity than he's accustomed to frankly went on a bit too long. The low-gravity schtick was overdone in many parts of the film and grew tiresome. We did not need to be reminded of it time and time again.

The romance between Carter and Deja was, naturally, predictable and all-too obvious from the start, even when it was apparent that Deja was determined to exploit Carter's strength and abilities to save her planet. But that doesn't mean it still wasn't engaging or that the viewer didn't want it to happen. I contrast this strongly with the romance of Anakin and Padme in the Star Wars films. I was entirely indifferent to that romance, didn't want it to happen and really hoped it would just go away. Here, at least, there are moments you find yourself mentally telling Carter, "Just kiss her, dammit!"

The awkward, predictable or even slow moments are mere blips on the map in an adventure brimming with all of the classic formula elements of action, romance, danger, heroism and humor. It is, simply, an enjoyable, if not terribly remarkable, movie.

In addition to a fine story and some good special effects, John Carter also boasts a great cast, many of whom lend their voices to CGI figures, including Willem Dafoe as Tar Tharkis, Thomas Haden Church as Tal Hajus, Dominic West (McNulty!) as Sab Than and Mark Strong as Matai Shang, and, oh, yes, Bryan Cranston as the Civil War officer, Col. Powell.

No, I will not say John Carter is the best SF/fantasy film I've seen, but it stands up to many of the best and most of the recent releases in the genre. It's more than worth the rental or purchase price, and I may very well grab the Blu-ray myself. This is a clear-cut case of a movie most undeserving of the negative hype.