305. Zero Dark Thirty

305. (08 Dec) Zero Dark Thirty (2012, Kathryn Bigelow)* 83



Terse, intelligent and exhilarating, it's hard not to be a little in awe of Zero Dark Thirty's confidence and competence. From the opening series of scenes about torture, it's clear this is constructing a thoughtful, even defining dialogue on the limitless complexity of the war on terror. Offering no easy answers and sticking us with an unsociable, obsessive main character, this has all the urgency and understanding that's been lacking from post-9/11 works about terror (e.g. United 93).

Jessica Chastain's Maya is the perfect fit for this narrative. From her steely resolve to her all-consuming need to kill bin Laden, she's endlessly fascinating. Her steady, rather devastating arc is done so much justice by Chastain, one can only pray she takes home the Best Actress Oscar.

The sheer leanness of Zero Dark Thirty is perhaps what it's easiest to marvel at. Mark Boal's The Hurt Locker script was laden with filler scenes, but there's not a wasted moment here. It's all in service to the theme of military intelligence coming at a high price for all involved, and that even good information can mean nothing without intuition and judgment.

The final sequence at the bin Laden compound should be enough to assure this a couple Oscars for sound work and a deserving nomination for Greig Fraser's cinematography. Alexandre Desplat's score is his umpteenth stroke of genius from recent years.

016. The Thing

016. (13 Jan) The Thing (2011, Matthijs van Heijningen Jr.) 61



This The Thing is briskly paced and believable as a prequel to John Carpenter's film. Development of the franchise's mythology like the underground spaceship attempting to take off is something of a mistake. The mysteriousness of the first film is certainly part of its charm, so making such a bold choice to demystify the creature's origins should work better. Still, this is sufficiently creepy. It just makes you appreciate Carpenter's version more.

420. Warrior

420. (17 Sep) Warrior (2011, Gavin O'Connor)* 39



An underdog story has rarely had less suspense or momentum than what's found in Warrior. The script is laughably cliched and trite from the first scene, failing to ever establish characters and constantly waiting to fill in back-story when it's most convenient to the plot. The whole plot is so preposterous, however, that there's never any pay-off. If these characters put their brooding machismo aside for half a second, there would be no conflict whatsoever. Without convincing motivation, it's hard to root for anybody. The scripting issues might have been overcome if the ensemble were at all good or if there was some level of technical proficiency.

I can't recall ever seeing a studio film photographed this poorly. Grainy close-ups, even in the repetitive fight sequences, make it almost impossible for O'Connor to establish space. Fights are over and done with without a clear idea of what just happened. (The effect is really not successful enough for me to think it's an intentional aesthetic choice.)

Tom Hardy swaggers about like he thinks he's Marlon Brando, but the only thing they really have in common is a beefy frame. Joel Edgerton doesn't look like he's at all related to Hardy, but he's a slightly more amiable presence. Nick Nolte gives his umpteenth performance as a hurt puppy dog.

There are a few good laughs to be had here, particularly when unnecessary announcers and commentators pop up to fill us in on plot details when the writers don't know how else to let things unfold. When melodrama is this clueless and self-serious, it's hard not to be a little bemused. It's really rare to see awfulness compound like this.