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Review by Daniel Lima  Conceptually, The King of Kings could work in several ways. It could function as an earnest rendition of the story of Jesus of Nazareth, aiming not to educate per se, but to impress upon the viewer the majesty, tragedy, and grandeur of the Son of God. It could serve to contextualize the story for nonbelievers, as a sort of road map that shows why this figure resonates with so many people thousands of years after his death (or, less charitably, as propaganda). At the very least, it could just be a fun adventure for undiscerning children. Sadly, it fails on all fronts, begging the question of why it was made in the first place. At first glance, it seems a curious object. While it is being distributed by Angel Studios — no stranger to religious or politically conservative media — the film was produced entirely by the South Korean animation house Monoc Studios, even going so far as to recruit Hollywood A-listers as voice actors before seeking distribution. Even more interesting is the form the narrative takes. Technically, this is an adaptation of a Charles Dickens manuscript that he would recite to his children every Christmas, and so here the framing device is Dickens telling his son the greatest story ever told. Incidentally, the man himself begged his family to never publish it, and they patiently waited until his last child died before selling the manuscript to a publisher. This does not make it into the movie. The film attempts to weave Dickens and his son directly into the narrative as observers, with the son growing increasingly enraptured in a tale that we are told is self-evidently enrapturing. This is obviously inspired by The Princess Bride, but fails to work here for two reasons. Firstly, while the interactions between the child and adult in that film are charming, the pair here are incredibly grating, with a bit of physical comedy in the beginning giving way to constant interruptions of the child screaming about how exciting this story is. This breaks up the momentum that the Biblical narrative might actually have otherwise, and since the two can’t directly interact with the story, it just serves to add to the runtime with increasingly annoying shouting. The bigger issue, however, is that The Princess Bride tells an exciting story, and this does not. The nativity, meeting the apostles, the crucifixion, the resurrection, the story of Jesus Christ clearly holds power as written in the Bible. A religious text, however, does not have to engage an audience in the way art does. Past films have gotten around this by focusing on a particular time in his life and treating him like a person with thoughts and feelings worth examining, or else telling the broad narrative in the form of a cinematic epic. Instead, this is a “nothing but the hits” rendition of his life, jumping through important parts of his life that even someone not well-versed in Christian lore is sure to be familiar with. It's a dramatically unsatisfying approach, inherently creating distance between the audience and the man.  Perhaps The King of Kings could have been compelling even without a traditional structure, but that would require selling this material in an artfully composed, visually dynamic way. Monoc drop the ball here, delivering a film that recalls lazy direct-to-video licensed films from a decade ago. There is a notable lack of detail to the 3D modeling, a lack of the imagination in bringing to life the world of first century Judea, a pronounced stiffness to the character animation, and a plainness to the many miracles of Jesus that rob this rendition of any of the wonder or beauty one may expect from a story of divine grace. Considering the freedom that that the medium allows for, it’s a glaring missed opportunity to create a unique vision of well-trodden material.
Anyone intrigued by the cast, know that each is phoning in their performance. Oscar Isaac as Jesus sounds like either a gift or a joke, but the result is far less interesting than one might expect, as he gives the most disinterested line reads of the entire film. Kenneth Branagh, Uma Thurman, Forest Whitaker, all the name talent give the absolute bare minimum of what is expected of them. The less notable professional voice actors have some moments, with a handful of amusing jeering from Brooklyn-accented Pharisees, but this is no one’s finest work. Given the lack of narrative, visual, or dramatic appeal to anyone who is not a believer, one would assume that The King of Kings is built to preach to the choir. It makes some mercenary sense for a foreign studio to produce a film for the Christian American market, as they seem to consistently show up for media that caters to them. Angel Studios has made a name for itself catering to a religious, traditional, and conservative audience. There is nothing inherently wrong with someone who identifies as such gravitating to a film that reflects their worldview and values. Even viewed from that lens, however, it’s hard to see how this could be satisfying. I cannot imagine being a hardline Christian and preferring something as toothless and unambitious as this over, for example, the God’s Not Dead movies. Those films are clearly animated by a bloodthirsty strain of religious fundamentalism that gives them a sense of purpose and character. Indeed, there are plenty of other works that voice popular Christian grievances, that articulate a worldview, that treat Christian dogma and scripture as sacrosanct, and bring it to life with a level of care and earnestness that makes it feel important. Why would anyone settle for this? I would be remiss if I said there was no red meat for the base here. Christian animosity towards the Jewish people has deep roots, with the idea that they bear collective guilt for the sin of killing Christ being used to justify their oppression for centuries. This film all but gives a full-throated endorsement of that idea, depicting a Jewish horde enthusiastically cheering for the murder of Jesus to a reluctant Roman official. That this exists besides an insistence that the town of Nazareth is in Israel (a term always used by Jewish people for the region, but the film otherwise uses “Judea”) is even more intriguing, pointing to a dichotomy that exists within the contemporary American Christian right between their support of the state of Israel, and lingering animus towards the Jewish people. Of course, at the end of the day, this is a movie for children, so this is left unenumerated on. The King of Kings, however, does not work as a kid’s movie, and I can’t imagine a child who would prefer this to whatever they can pull up on their iPad. It’s not for Christian adults who want an energizing rendition of the story of their savior. It’s certainly not for people with not inherent interest in Jesus of Nazareth whatsoever. Whoever goes into this expecting more than the most bare bones, cursory treatment of one of the most enduring legends in written history is bound to be disappointed. The Good Book has got to be better than this. The King of Kings is now in theaters. Rating: 0.5/5
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Review by Daniel Lima  There is an apocryphal story that famed Hollywood agent once wagered with a friend that he could make anybody a star, found some work for his aikido instructor, and thus started the illustrious career of Steven Seagal. Funny as the thought may be, anyone who has seen his early work knows how distinct his screen presence is, and the unique flavor he brought to what could have been boilerplate material. I thought of him often — and other martial artists who cemented themselves as leading men and women — as I watched The Martial Artist, a vanity project that only serves to make clear the obvious limitations of its would-be star. Pakistani-American actor Shaz Khan plays a young man in America who dreams of becoming a mixed martial arts champion. Though his fighting skills and passion are unparalleled, that same drive to succeed begins to take a toll on his personal life and the people he cares for, forcing him to look inward and reconnect with his heritage and who he is to stop the cycle of self-destruction. The underdog who embraces violence, finds himself humbled, and builds himself up has been a cliché narrative in both martial arts movies and sports dramas for decades. It might not be doing anything new, but the familiar template does allow Khan the opportunity to show what he is capable of not only as a lead, but as director, writer, and producer as well. It is an opportunity he squanders. The Martial Artist is meant to function as a character drama, centering on the rise and fall and rise again of the young handsome man who the audience wants to see grow as a person and fighter. The core problem here is that he sucks. Not Shaz Khan himself (though his performance is notably affectless and bland), but the protagonist, who is given no redeeming qualities beyond a drive to succeed, which is not enough to support audience sympathy when over an hour is spent on how mean and selfish and petulant he is. By the time the inevitable personality shift happens, it’s impossible to be invested in his personal journey, because there’s never been a hint of anything more to his character. Not that any of the ensemble fare better. For a film meant to get into the mind of a fighter, and show how his behavior affects the people around him, precious little time is spent on fleshing the supporting cast out. He has a girlfriend who we are told loves him and works at a law firm, but both are informed attributes, and its a wonder why she even would want to hang out with him to begin with. His mother wants him to stop fighting, and that’s all there is to say about her. There’s a bunch of local hoodlums who harass him and his community, though they only serve as a flimsy excuse for something to happen. Technically, these relationships all change over the course of the film, but they do so without no ceremony and zero dramatic weight, often skipping over that development with jarring time jumps and montages. As much that is spent on Khan pouting and arguing with these people, it’s incredible that they are so thinly written.  The same could be said of the rest of this world. Though the story nominally sees Khan join a premium fight promotion and become a bona fide celebrity, budgetary constraints mostly confide the characters to barren gyms and suburban homes. While that is understandable, that this is all captured with such a drab palette, lacking any visual flair beyond keeping things in focus, makes watching this unfold a chore. Adding to this is how slowly the very predictable story unfolds, as these paper-thin characters spout their hack dialogue. Worst of all, however, is the lack of sound design plaguing far too many scenes. The lack of any ambient noise is deafening, obliterating any sense of place or texture. Taken as a whole, the entire film feels artificial, more a hastily assembled product than art.
What of the martial art? While it does seem Khan and the other actors may actually have some fight training, and the handful of action beats seem like they have been designed and choreographed with some thought, the filmmaking neuters what could have been achieved. The camera stays in a medium shot, creating remove between the action and the audience, with incessant spinning around the fighters and choppy editing ruining any sense of rhythm or place. It’s hardly the worst of the movie’s problems, but its a shame to see some of the interesting settings go to waste. As flawed as this film is, there is one section that shows a glimmer of what could have been. At one point in the story, Khan visits his ancestral home in Pakistan. As he learns to accept his responsibilities as well as his failings, gets to know his distant relatives, slowly transitioning from speaking only English to Urdu, and hones his martial skills atop mountains overlooking gorgeous vistas. It’s all undermined by the issues detailed above — drab palette, lack of emotional attachment, boring lead — but this is where the film actually sets itself apart from all the other martial arts vanity projects, by focusing in on what makes Shaz Khan unique. It’s tempting to be a bit easy on The Martial Artist. This was a low budget, independent production seemingly meant to act as a calling card for the director/producer/writer/star. It’s hard to be charitable, however, when reminded of films like Kung Fu Rookie, Life After Fighting, Contour and Parole Violators. It is possible to make a compelling and thrilling action drama with meager means. This attempt was a failure. Hopefully Khan can find or create something that will put his talents to better use. The Martial Artist is now in theaters. Rating: 1.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima  At a time where the world seems to be getting worse by day, a new collaboration from David Ayer and Jason Statham seems like a heavenly gift. Yet as much as I craved another story about a violent macho man beating all of America's problems to death, I did worry that A Working Man might be too abrasive, too noxious for someone like me to enjoy. I did not anticipate an utter lack of any animating idea whatsoever. Statham is a retired commando working a humble construction job, just a regular blue collar, punch card roughneck looking to win custody of his daughter. When his bosses' daughter goes missing, he has to fall back on his particular set of skills to get her back from a nefarious criminal cabal. The best examples of this particular male power fantasy use the familiar set up as a foundation for unique idiosyncrasies. Colorful performances, a distinct cast of characters, clever dialogue, the nature of the threat, the flavor of action, all go a long way in making something that could be generic stand out. Ayer and Statham already accomplished this last year with The Beekeeper. To give them some credit, A Working Man is a functional film. Statham's gruff, direct persona has served him well through his career, and he is as able as ever to put on the air of a working stiff. So long as he's bouncing from one violent confrontation to another, manhandling and threatening and brutally executing odious people with ease, his blunt force charisma is enough to power the film. It is a shame, then, that this does not make up most of the film. About halfway through, Statham’s character begins to get more methodical in his search, trading the fun scenes of him interrogating criminals through creative means for going undercover and laying low. This gives more time to develop the many antagonists, but it also adds a lot of time where the star of the show is entirely passive or off screen, making it incredibly hard to stay emotionally invested. As the story meanders further away from that core appeal of Statham bulldozing his way through bad guys, it becomes both less exciting and harder to follow.  This lack of narrative focus feeds into a hazy sense of thematic purpose. In The Beekeeper, Statham starts off attacking a local criminal operation, but progresses through higher and higher echelons of power, tying his personal vendetta into a crusade to rid American society of deeply rooted evils... that happen to be a litany of right-wing grievances. The clear escalation within the storytelling feeds into the animating thesis of the film: moral rot flows downstream of power and privilege.
Here, there are so many different figures representing so many points of the criminal ladder, it’s impossible to parse who exactly is the ultimate bad guy. If the powerful people at the top are the worst of the bunch, why does Statham spend so little time confronting them? If it’s the underlings perpetrating the crimes their bosses order, is that not antithetical to the supposed working-class ethos of the character? What are we to make of the drug peddler who earns some respect just because he served in the military? As charged as the politics of that previous film may have been, it presented a neatly defined threat, and an overriding sense of purpose and import to the quest for revenge. That gets lost in the shuffle here, and it makes for a less compelling movie. I wish I could say that the film is elevated by the action, or the supporting ensemble, or the dialogue, but these only impress in fits and spurts. There are moments of over-the-top violence, with beautifully explosive squibs sending out clouds of red mists, but the fisticuffs are often too darkly lit and too quickly edited to get a sense of what’s going on. Though there’s a handful of fun turns by the likes of Michael Peña and Chidi Ajufo, most of the cast is given precious little material to work with. Most of the best quips can be found in the trailers, and while they’re just as knowingly self-aware in the actual movie, they’re too scattered to leave an impression. With a leaner story and a clearer vision of who — or what — its hero is fighting against, perhaps the meager boons of A Working Man would be more impactful. As it stands, this is a middling entry into the oeuvres of both its star and director. A Working Man clocks into theaters March 28. Rating: 3/5 Review by Daniel Lima  Jackie Chan is one of the most recognizable movie stars on the planet, perhaps the single most recognizable martial arts star. Kung Fu Rookie is a testament to his international appeal: an independently produced love letter to the man’s films, from the nation of Kazakhstan. That it is so indebted to his work creates a low ceiling for what this can achieve, but the studious attentiveness to what made his classic oeuvre so enchanting also gives this a high floor. By all appearances, this film is a passion project of star, producer and editor Timur Baktybayev. He plays a young man who moves from the countryside to Almaty, the largest city in the nation, in order to join the police force. Along the way, he reunites with his good-natured uncle, gets a love interest, runs afoul of a local gang of thugs, and gets into some wild fights. It’s practically impossible to talk about Kung Fu Rookie entirely on its own merits, as its constant references to Jackie Chan’s filmography — particularly his 1990’s films, when he really broke out on the international scene — seem to encourage those comparisons. The plot is a broad strokes rendition of Rumble in the Bronx; Baktybayev is clearly playing a take on Chan’s own screen persona, down to the wardrobe; all of the fights are pulled from his films, in setting and in choreography. Specific beats and gags from the action are present, and I am certain other bits outside the fight scenes simply went over my head. All of this is in good fun, but when the sole intent of art is to retread other art, there’s an enforced limit to how impressive it can be. Chan’s films existed at a particular time and place that allowed them to take the form they did. Hong Kong had a long history of action cinema, and productions were given ample time and budget to deliver set pieces; there was a large number of talented martial artists and stuntmen looking for work; Jackie Chan was an icon who people were willing to risk injury for. None of these things are true of a low budget independent film from Kazakhstan, and so it could never hope to achieve these heights.  In spite of this, Baktybayev and director Aman Ergaziyev work with what they have. Where much of Chan’s comedic work is big and broad, this film plays like a lowkey, low stakes romantic comedy: making breakfast with uncle, studying with the cute girl, helping the nice lady with her groceries. No performances stand out, but they are all charming, sweet, and easy to root for. The villains receive far less definition, but as with the films that inspired this, that’s less important than if they can be convincingly threatening in a fight. It certainly helps that this is leaner than most Hong Kong comedies, barely over an hour before credits. I can certainly think of plenty of small action films that could have benefited from such a streamlined narrative.
None of this is to say the set pieces are bad. While it’s clear that Baktybayev and the team he’s assembled don’t approach the level of on-screen athleticism of Jackie and his stunt team in their prime, they all clearly have at least some training (two of the villains are played by pro MMA fighters). It’s also clear from the blooper reel that ends the film, another Jackie staple that they were all willing to risk injury and take the time to nail their beats exactly; no surprise that the star himself chose to do the editing. The fights themselves, while necessarily pared down and simplified from what they reference, still follow the same principles that made them so electric: incorporating the environment into the action, constantly keeping the hero on the back foot and forcing to overcome incredible odds, peppering in comedy without dialing down the intensity of the movement. There’s even a handful of laudable original flourishes, the highlight being a fight on a merry-go-round. One can only imagine what could have been achieved if they were untethered to the source material. As derivative as Kung Fu Rookie may be, it is the best kind of loving homage. Beyond the appreciation for, and intimate understanding of, all that made Jackie Chan so special to so many, this is also clearly the work of someone who has internalized all of what they’ve learned. As I understand it, Kazakstan does not have a particularly robust film industry and that is a shame. The world could use some more of Timur Baktybayev. Kung Fu Rookie is now available on digital. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima  Stop me if you’ve heard this before: “A gang of armed terrorists take a high society office party in a skyscraper hostage, but are unaware of a fly in the ointment with a particular set of skills.” Yes, the new Martin Campbell project Cleaner is yet another Die Hard riff. To its credit, it manages to get right parts of that film’s formula many other derivative works do not. Everything else is a spectacular failure. Daisy Ridley is a former British Army soldier who is down on her luck. On the same day that her autistic brother, played by Michael Tuck, is kicked out of his care home, she is forced to take him to her work… as a window cleaner, the same day of the aforementioned hostage situation. Things go south from there. If there’s one thing to commend Cleaner for, it handles the setup surprisingly well. The opening scene is a flashback to the siblings’ childhood, with their abusive father putting hands on the brother as young Ridley climbs(!) around her kitchen and sits out on the window. It’s a laughably direct and obvious way to establish the characters’ relationship, past trauma, and foreshadow her pivotal role as someone who hangs onto things at high altitudes. For a lean action-thriller, however, this is also an effective way to announce what to expect: a not-too-serious bit of fun, nevertheless grounded in human emotion. It helps that Ridley has such an easy rapport with Tuck. She nails the exasperation of someone in her position, trying to get their life together yet forced to look after someone who may always need them. In spite of a role that may on paper dive into popular cliches about autism, Tuck makes his character feel like a human being whose disorder is a part of him without necessarily defining him. The push-pull dynamic between the two is not enumerated on in the script, but their performances tell a shared history, and would have provided a solid foundation for a compelling action yarn. Unfortunately, Cleaner does not capitalize on that.  Any good Die Hard clone knows that one of the most important aspects is the antagonist. With the cast and setting so limited, much of the story’s drive comes from the nature of the foe set against the fettered hero. Here, an attempt is made to craft a villain who actually has some convincing moral arguments: the terrorists are actually environmental activists, who intend to reveal the environmental damages and assassination of other activists perpetrated by those wealthy and powerful individuals.
Why should we care about the lives of these awful people? As if to answer this, the leader of this group is usurped by an even more militant figure, a self-described anti-humanist (a philosophy that does exist, but not in the form portrayed here) who has no qualms about killing. Unfortunately, this just creates a new problem: the people being targeted are, in their own way, anti-humanists with no qualms about killing. The difference is the terrorists are moral absolutist fatalists, and the bourgeois are motivated solely by profit. Say what you will about the tenets of antihumanism, at least it’s an ethos. The film does attempt broaden out the scope of the threat late in the game, but too late to keep the audience from the side of the activists. That said, it’s not like the office workers at Nakatomi Plaza were fleshed out and sympathetic. What made Die Hard work was that its hero had a personal stake in stopping the unfolding events. Not only was his wife being held hostage, he was a police officer, and thus had a vested interest in putting an end to criminal wrongdoing. Beyond that, the film is structured in a way that constantly changes the resources both protagonist and antagonist have at their disposal, shifting momentum and who has the upper hand, as well as delivering solid action set pieces. On paper, Cleaner should be able to manage the same, with Tuck giving Ridley a reason to stop the terrorists, and her military background providing the justification for her ability to run circles around them. The script squanders both of these, leaving Ridley stranded on the side of the building for most of the runtime, unable to affect events in the tower, and never going so far as to actually threaten her brother. Every potential complication is quickly quashed, from an attempt to frame Ridley to trigger-happy police to… well, that’s about it really. An ungodly amount is spent with absolutely nothing changing the stakes, no new developments throwing a monkey wrench into best laid plans. Early on, the villain says to ignore the window cleaner, because she can’t do anything from outside. Incredibly, that turns out to be true. Towards the end, there are a handful of surprisingly decent fight scenes, intensely physical brawls that have a sense of rhythm, purpose, and direction that reminds the audience that the man at the helm had once reinvented James Bond. These only serve to highlight how meager the rest of Cleaner is. Why not get the protagonist involved early, so she can actually impact the drama? Why not spend more time with the brother, have him more directly in harm’s way to make their relationship more central to the conflict? Why not lean into the complication of a villain who the audience can easily sympathize with, instead of trying to create the most extreme strawman possible? Why not make a more interesting movie? Cleaner arrives in theater February 21. Rating: 2.5/5 |