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2006 in brief:
Fall
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Subtitles inform us of the Mayan dialogue, but it’s
hardly necessary anyways. Apocalypto is a visual
film. A savage beauty itself, the film shows us the last
days of the Mayan civilization through a small group of
villagers who are sought for sacrifice from a neighboring
clan. Though there are definitely themes of family and survival,
Apocalypto is more a visceral work than literary
one. And it works. It’s a raw, engaging experience.
But it falls short of achieving any notable degree of depth.
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Bobby is an odd biopic – largely
because it really isn’t a biopic at all. The film
isn’t so much about Bobby Kennedy as it is about the
60’s – and the people that, as the film would
have us believe – Bobby was fighting for. Nearly a
dozen different storylines (each filled with name actors)
follow guests or employees of the hotel on the day in which
Bobby is later to be assassinated. As of yet, all are unaware
of the tragedy yet to occur and are instead fully engrossed
in their own problems. The problems run the gamut of the
era, covering drugs, racism, alcoholism, class differences,
racism, infidelity, Vietnam and racism. Unfortunately, the
storylines have no stronger tie and serve no better purpose
other than a tenuous connection to Kennedy’s ideals.
Bobby is ultimately no more than a ‘name
that actor’ parade with a flare of self-importance.
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Funny. Very funny. But not earth shattering
funny. Sacha Baron Cohen is brilliant as the pseudo-Kazakhstani
who comes to America with backward notions of social norms.
Every single strange thing that comes out of his mouth is
funny, and Cohen plays up the humor even more with his accent
and gestures. Borat will probably be a long remembered
comedic icon. But as amusing as the shtick is, the practical
joke on unsuspecting common folk is pretty well used up by
the end of just 90 minutes.
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In a reboot of the Bond series we return to
Ian Fleming’s first novel and we return to Bond as he’s
supposed to be – gritty, passionate, audacious, and
human. The script is thick, witty, and twisty, but its fatal
flaw is the same as its protagonist’s – its ego.
Though Bond comes to discover he can be outwitted, the film
seems unaware that its cleverness is often transparent. Nonetheless,
both Bond and the film are smart enough to leave us wanting
more by the end.
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Children of Men is probably the most
significant technical achievement of the year. A truly stunning
second half offers us long takes of complex, chaotic footage
of a world gone bad. It’s an unblinking view of a world
without children – and without hope. Children of
Men offers some interesting insights into the human reaction
to such a dreary world – which sheds some light on the
human condition as a whole. But the films hints and suggestions
are generally too brief, too unsubstantial to really amount
to anything significant.
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Dreamgirls starts out as a driving,
soulful musical about three singing black girls from urban
Detroit who move their way up the ladder of success. But not
even an hour has passed before this soultrain crashes into
an ugly mess of soap opera like complications. Typical post-success
issues befall the girls and their respective mates, to include
jealousy, infidelity, drug-use, general selfishness, and avarice.
Not only are their problems a mess, but so is the stilted
narrative in which it’s told. I never once cared about
any of these characters. But at least they sing well.
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Counteracting the James Bond image of spectacular espionage,
the story of the founding of the CIA is played out so as
to show a slow, quiet and impenetrable initiation. Unfortunately,
the film itself takes on the very same characteristics.
Matt Damon plays a decidedly stoic army intelligence agent
in WWII who moves on to become one of the original members
of the CIA and struggles to sustain his family life in the
midst of his absence and secrecy on the job. Themes of trust
and trustability are touched on throughout the too long
three hour session, but it’s not enough to tie the
film’s obscure ends together.
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Happy Feet, which leaves no environmentalist
stone unturned and makes awkwardly strong gay parallels, is
otherwise a children’s story about a little penguin
who is born with the ability to dance instead of making the
mating call, like all the other penguins. When he’s
not trying to convince his friends and elders that he’s
just born that way, he’s off saving his fellow penguins
from the famine that has set upon them because the humans
are taking all the fish in Antarctica. The best part
of the movie is actually Robin Williams as the leader of a
posse of Mexican penguins. Seriously.
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Rocky comes back for one last fight –
apparently just because he has nothing better to do but talk
to people in his restaurant after Adrian has died. As is to
be expected, Rocky proves that “the heart is the last
thing to age.” The film is competently shot and cut,
but there’s no more real motivation behind the film
than there is behind Rocky. As spirited as Rocky
tries and wants to be, it ultimately comes off with a weak
pulse.
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