Spring Roundup: Quick-Take Reviews

Everyone knows winter is a rough time to see movies - studios dump films they already believe to be under-performers in January and February. Yet, as the weather finally warms up, studios start taking chances with spring releases, letting some interesting features out before the big summer tent-pole blockbusters overwhelm the market. Below are the four films I saw over the past week and a half, with umm relatively short blurbs (for me at least). Enjoy - hopefully this marks my official return to maintaining this blog with a passion. Whew.

Director Joe Wright, know for his gorgeous adaptations of both Pride & Prejudice and Atonement, crosses into a new genre with Hanna while still maintaining his lush style and long takes. The script for Hanna topped Hollywood's famous Black List in both 2006 and 2009, with Danny Boyle and Alfonso Cuarón once attached; what's interesting about Wright is that he brings his expertise in the visual language of romance to this flashy action piece. Saoirse Ronan (an Oscar nominee for Atonement) plays the titular character, a teenage assassin-warrior, raised in the wild by her gruff father (Eric Bana) to target the mysterious Marissa Vigler (Cate Blanchett). What follows is a gripping thrill ride, thankfully touched with a few graceful moments of humor and a commentary on the bombarding stimulus of modern society. With strands of Grimm's fairy tale lore interspersed throughout, and including elements of a modern Little Red Riding Hood, it's the most beautifully unique and badass revenge thriller that's been released in a while, as Wright has constructed a film touching both indie and blockbuster sensibilities; throw in a stunning score from the Chemical Brothers pulsating over the entire experience, and all of the pieces add up to make Hanna resemble an edgier, and more interesting, spin away from the world of Bourne Identity. B+

Possibly the most interesting aspect of the latest adaptation of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre is the restructuring of the plot to create a frame narrative for Jane's journey, opening the film as Jane flees from Thornfield Hall; however, interesting doesn't necessarily mean successful - it's perhaps a way to give strength to the empowering elements of the tale, and the search for the definition of personal freedom, but it also gives the film a bit of an oddly uneven gait as the period pierce unfurls. The film works because it's two leads bring incredibly strength and endless chemistry - Mia Wasikowska, who's immense talent reminds me of a young Claire Danes, might steal the title as the definitive Jane, fully embodying the character's taut sensibility and perfect saintly poise throughout her own struggles; Michael Fassbender, while far too attractive to be playing Rochester (that could never be a legitimate Hollywood dilemma, unless you're a Brontë purist...), fills the role with the the perfect mix of charm and coiled rage necessary to go to bat with Jane. Whenever the two are together, the screen is ablaze, especially because its in these moments that the tight script hues as close as possible to Brontë's magnificent language. Still, Wasikowska owns the film, and director Cary Fukunaga's gorgeous minimalist style makes sure to always remind that this is, indeed, Jane's story, sweeping romance and all. B+

It's been a full decade since the Scream franchise finished its trilogy with a weak, atrocious limp of a film (can we just forget Scream 3 ever happened?); it's no wonder that horror mastermind Wes Craven and screenwriting parter Kevin Williamson wanted to head back to Woodsboro. Thankfully, Scream 4 (Scre4m...?) is the best entry in the franchise since the original, untouchable Scream. The plot follows Sidney Prescott's (Neve Campbell, positively glowing) return to her hometown right as Ghostface starts killing again, targeting his original victims along with a new generation of Woodsboro teens, centered around Sidney's niece Jill (Emma Roberts). Craven and Williamson have returned to what made the first two films so much fun - the seamless blend of witty self-reflexive humor, genuine thrills, and a sprinkling of giddy camp. Among the new entries to the franchise, Hayden Panettiere surprisingly packs the biggest punch as Jill's friend Kirby, game to carry off both her easy jokes and tense screams with heaps of charisma; it helps that she's given one of the film's best scenes, a nice homage to Drew Barrymore's iconic opening (and my favorite from any horror movie). This film's opening, following the classic structure of kicking things off with a murder, sets the film's tone in wonderful style, and the finale packs some great twists, even if the actually ending is a little drawn out and ludicrous. It's disappointing to see the weak reviews, and box office numbers, hurled at Scream 4 - with the recent torture porn crave in the horror genre, everyone seems to have forgotten what made the Scream franchise such wicked fun in the first place. B

Water for Elephants's centers on the torrid love triangle between young vet Jacob Jankowski (Rob Pattison), horse performer Marlena (Reese Witherspoon, who's never looked better as a Jean Harlow bombshell) and her husband, circus owner August (Christoph Waltz). Pattison, doing his best James Dean caricature, plays the role with appropriate awkward sensitivity, and ascends his throne as a true heartthrob (it helps that he's not in goopy vampire makeup). However, Witherspoon's Marlena is missing firebrand power, and Waltz's August, a mixture of two characters from the novel, comes off more as cartoon villain than haunted human (more the script's fault than Waltz's performance); the best presence here is arguably that of Tai, as the elephant Rosie, bringing out the best in her costars. Unfortunately, the chemistry between Pattison and Witherspoon simply doesn't exist; their romance doesn't bring the wild heat needed to hold the film together. While director Francis Lawrence fills his shots with breathtaking beauty, Sara Gruen's novel showed a gritty realism about circus life and the Depression that scratched through the romance and joy; this translation is washed in stunningly glossy cinematography, but could benefit from a little more of the book's wild grunge. Water for Elephants plods along from scene to scene, missing the true heart that gave the novel so much power. D