The Best Films I've Never Seen Before: Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988)

Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988) ***
Directed by: Terence Davies.
Written by: Terence Davies.
Starring: Pete Postlethwaite (Father), Freda Dowie (Mother), Lorraine Ashbourne (Maisie), Angela Walsh (Eileen), Dean Williams (Tony), Jean Boht (Aunty Nell), Michael Starke (Dave), Andrew Schofield (Les), Debi Jones (Micky), Chris Darwin (Red), Vincent Maguire (George).

Terence Davies’ Distant Voices, Still Lives plays like a memory or perhaps a dream. There really isn’t a plot to the movie – there is certainly no narrative drive – and the characters remain somewhat hazy and not really well defined. The people lack depth. And yet, I found Distant Voices, Still Lives to be a quietly transfixing, and ultimately moving film. The first half of the film is bleak and depressing, but it gives way to a second half that is more upbeat, and perhaps even hopeful, even though there is still darkness.

The first half of the film revolves around one Liverpool family’s upbringing in the 1940s with an abusive, cruel father (Pete Postlewaite). The three children are now young adults, and as they father grows sicker, and ultimately dies, we look book at their life as children through each of their eyes. Two of them remember only the bad about their father – his mean streak and cruelty that you never could tell when he was going to explode. They also remember the resolve of their mother, who tries her best to make their lives bearable. Divorce is never mentioned as an option. Yet one of the three children, the youngest, remembers the good moments with their father – how he was at points capable of being tender and even kind. I think this is somewhat of a survival mechanism – some of us just cannot bring ourselves to deal with the pain in our lives, so we whitewash over it.

The second half of the film, following the death of the father, is more upbeat. We see the children move into adulthood, and become better people then their father was – and have healthier married relationships than their parents did. There is a note of darkness, as they do see one of their friends trapped in the same cycle of control and abuse, and feel powerless to stop it. But ultimately from the films ugly beginning, their emerges hope.

Music is very important to the film – and the way Davies uses it in the two halves of his movie evolves. In the first half, the shiny happy songs of the 1940s offset against the cruelty we see in the film – most memorably setting a scene o f abuse to Ella Fitzgerald’s Taking a Chance on Love. Davies also has the cast do some of their own singing in the film. Music plays an important role in the film – just like I think it does with memory. Songs can have different associations for different people that have nothing at all to do with what the song is actually about.

To me, Distant Voices, Still Lives was a fascinating little movie – ultimately quite moving when you allow yourself to get on its wavelength. This is not a movie about plot or characters, but about memory. Most directors when they look back at their childhood have an sense of nostalgia that doesn’t match up to reality, but here, Davies sees the time in which he grew up with his eyes open. Ultimately, for me, I do not think it is a great film. I do think perhaps I require something more to hold onto – to sink my teeth into – than what Davies offers here, which is ultimately more surface and style than substance. But it is a wonderful little film just the same.

The Best Films I've Never Seen Before: Titicut Follies (1967)

Titicut Follies (1967) ***
Directed by: Frederick Wiseman.

Legendary documentarian Frederick Wiseman’s first film, Titicut Follies, became famous because it was banned. It takes place in a mental hospital, and shows how the patients are either mistreated, ignored or worse by the doctors and the staff. Although Wiseman had permission to film – either from the patients themselves or their legal guardian, the head of the hospital, when the film was first released and drew praise from many critics, the State realized it made them look horrible, and sued to have it blocked – arguing that it violated patient privacy. The State won, and initially all copies of the film were ordered to be destroyed – but that was reversed on appeal. Although the film was still banned for the public, it could be shown for “educational purposes” to mental health professionals – I suppose to teach them what NOT to do. It wasn’t until 1991, when the patients in the film were dead, that the film was allowed to be showed to the public. It is thought that Titicut Follies was the first film to be banned not because it was pornography or a threat to National Security – so its place in film history is assured. But the film is probably more famous for its legal battles than for anything in the film itself. Although it has been readily available since 1991, there doesn’t seem to be too much demand for a black and white documentary from the 1960s about the mistreatment of mental patients.

Wiseman has had a long career in documentary film. In the 44 years since Titicut Follies was released, Wiseman has directed a total of 39 documentaries. He has a fascinating with institutions as you could tell simply by reading the titles of some of his films – High School, Hospital, Basic Training, Juvenile Court, State Legislature, Public Housing and his latest Boxing Gym. He would probably rename this film Mental Institution if he could. Despite strong reviews for almost all of his films, they never really get a proper release – often they end up airing on PBS – and DVDs of his work can be hard to find – which helps to explain why other than this film and Boxing Gym (which I saw at TIFF last year), I have not seen any of his work. Wiseman is kind of the anti-Michael Moore in that we never see or hear him in any of his movies. For all intents and purposes, he is not there – he simply sits back and films what happens in front of him. Of course his editing choices – what he includes and excludes – are Wiseman’s real voice, but he is not someone who feels the need to beat his point into your head. You can make of his films what you want.

Despite the fact that Wiseman has presumably used the same basic style in all his work, there has definitely been a progression in the skill in which he makes his films. Boxing Gym is a meticulously edited film, getting into the rhythm of the fights, and using the sounds of the gym as a kind of score. The style in Titicut Follies is more rougher and raw. You can see the jagged edges of the film, and it never quite settles into its own rhythm. This may end up helping the film, which I think should have a raw feel to it. And the footage does pretty much speak for itself.

We do not necessary see a whole lot of outright physical abuse in Titicut Follies – either it didn’t happen, or at least didn’t happen when Wiseman was filming. Yet what we do see is a hospital that is supposed to be there to help the mentally ill completely failing at its job. Patients are ignored, belittled, talked down to, mocked. They are trapped in a place that is not helping them, and doesn’t seem to care if they ever do help them. One poor sap was sent over from prison for observation and has been there for more than a year now. When he first got there, he didn’t say anything, and they diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic. When he started talking one on one, the doctors saw this as a confirmation of their diagnosis – and when he starts being more vocal, it’s even more proof. The poor bastard is damned no matter what he does. There is a pedophile in the hospital that gets advice so painfully awful that you cannot believe that a trained doctor could ever think of saying it to someone like him. These patients will never be cured – some because their illness is such that they cannot be cured – but others because no one seems to know what they are doing or care about it. These guys would be no worse off in the general population given the “treatment” they receive at the hospital.

I found Titicut Follies to be fascinating, sad and infuriating. If you ever want to know just how accurate One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which was made a few years later, but set at the same basic time as this film, all you need to do is watch this film and marvel. The film is rough – as you may expect from a lawyer turned filmmaker making his first film – but effective. I can only assume that mental hospitals have gotten better in the years since this film came out, so the film is not as timely as it once was. But as an historical document, it is quite fascinating. I have a feeling I should try and track down more of Wiseman’s films.

Movie Review: Battle: Los Angeles

Battle: Los Angeles **
Directed by: Jonathan Liebesman.
Written by: Christopher Bertolini.
Starring: Aaron Eckhart (SSgt. Michael Nantz), Ramon Rodriguez (2nd Lt. William Martinez), Cory Hardrict (Cpl. Jason Lockett), Gino Anthony Pesi (Cpl. Nick Stavrou), Ne-Yo (Cpl. Kevin Harris), James Hiroyuki Liao (LCpl. Steven Mottola), Bridget Moynahan (Michele), Noel Fisher (Pfc. Shaun Lenihan), Adetokumboh M'Cormack (Corpsman Jibril Adukwu), Bryce Cass (Hector Rincon), Michael Peña (Joe Rincon), Michelle Rodriguez (TSgt. Elena Santos), Neil Brown Jr. (LCpl. Richard Guerrero), Taylor Handley (LCpl. Corey Simmons).

Battle: Los Angeles is big, loud and dumb – but also at least sporadically entertaining. It really wants to be the Black Hawk Down of alien invasion movies, and seems to have studied Ridley Scott’s masterful war film (is it Scott’s best? It’s pretty damn close), but also the work of Paul Greengrass (the second two Bourne films, along with United 93 and Green Zone), because the camera never seems to settle. It is constantly moving, the rapid fire editing never slows down as the film dives headlong into marines vs. aliens battle. When the movie is concentrating on the fight between these two opposing forces it works. But when it slows down, and allows it many characters to talk, it grinds to a halt. We don’t care about any of these characters – have in fact a tough time telling them apart – and the dialogue is so awful in parts, you simply shake your head. The ingredients are here for a fine film – but it never really comes together.

The movie begins like many war movies do – with scenes where the filmmakers introduce us to all the characters we will see for the rest of the movie. They do this to try and humanize the characters, who for the next two hours will be anything but human, but whatever. So we have the grizzled veteran (Aaron Eckhart), whose actions on his last tour in Iraq made him a hero – and got many of his men killed – so he has decided to retire after his current training assignment in LA. There is the new Commanding Officer (Ramon Rodriguez) fresh out of school and confident he can lead. There is the brother of one of the men Eckhart got killed (Cory Hardict) who is still bitter about it. There is the man about to get married (Ne-Yo) and his wise cracking best friend (Gino Anthony Pesi). And on and on it goes – introducing these characters, just so when the fight begins, we at least have a chance to figure out who the hell just got killed.

These opening scenes don’t work – they hardly ever work in movies – but pretty soon we leave character development behind. Strange things are happening the world over – things are falling from the sky all over along the coastlines. It isn’t long before we know what those things are – aliens – and that they are not friendly. They are out to destroy humanity. They want our resources, and we are simply in the way. Because their technology is so advanced, humans have little chance against them, and they wipe out cities quickly. The last line of defense, at least in LA, is the marines. And they fight bravely.

When the movie concentrates on action, it pretty much works. Director Jonathan Liebsman (Darkness Falls, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning) may not be a great filmmaker by any stretch, but here he proves he can direct action, and uses special effects to great effect. Typically, I am tired of the rapid fire editing style, and the non-stop camera movement that most action movie directors use today. It becomes difficult, if not impossible, to orient yourself to the action and figure out what the hell is going on. But Liebsman avoids this trap somehow. I knew where everyone was, and what was happening, and why and the scenes where the marines and aliens are engaged in firefights – which to be honest is roughly half the movie – work quite well. The aliens are at times barely glimpses – a mass force moving rapidly towards you – sometimes little more than a blur. But their presence is real. A great sequence features Eckhart torturing a wounded alien – not to get information or out of cruelty, but because he needs to figure out how to kill the damn thing. To describe them would be hard, but let’s just say they reminded me of the aliens for Aliens, Predator and District 9 rolled into one and call it a day.

The problem with the movie is that it feels the need to slow down at some points, and allow the characters to make big speeches. These scenes are somewhat necessary in movies like this I suppose to try and humanize the characters, and because you cannot go 110 mph for a whole two hours without exhausting the audience. It’s here where the movie really grinds to a halt. I don’t really mind the fact that it glamorizes Marines – they are heroes who put themselves on the line – but did it need to glamorize them all? There seems to be a running contest throughout the movie over which Marine can be the most selfless and sacrificing. At times, they feel more like robots than people.

If you like big, loud, dumb action movies – where the pleasure comes from watching thousands of rounds of ammunition being fire, and things blowing up, then Battle: Los Angeles will most likely satisfy you. It does all of that and then some. But for me, I kind of wish they had made this movie is bigger, louder and dumber. We didn’t need all the scenes that grind the movie to a halt while everyone makes speeches – we certainly didn’t to add civilians, and children, at that matter to the mix. They simply distract you from what the movies does well.

The Best Films I've Never Seen Before: Mon Oncle d'Amerique (1980)

Mon Oncle d’Amerique (1980) ****
Directed by: Alain Resnais.
Written by: Jean Gruault based on the writings by Henri Laborit.
Starring: Gérard Depardieu (René Ragueneau), Nicole Garcia (Janine Garnier), Roger Pierre (Jean Le Gall), Nelly Borgeaud (Arlette Le Gall), Pierre Arditi (Zambeaux), Gérard Darrieu (Léon Veestrate), Philippe Laudenbach (Michel Aubert), Marie Dubois (Thérèse Ragueneau), Henri Laborit (Himself).

Every major religion teaches us that we have free will – that although God put us on earth, the decisions we make are ours and ours alone. Of course if you’re an atheist, you also believe in the concept of free will. What makes Alain Resnais’ Mon Oncle d’Amerique so fascinating is that it flies in the face of all of that. Here is a movie where God is taken out of the equation, and yet the characters are still slaves – still not free to make their own choices. We are conditioned to behave the way we do, so even though we think we are making our own choices, we really aren’t.

The film is based on the research of Henri Laborit, who shows up occasionally in the film to talk about his findings – mostly involving lab rats. When a rat knows that an electric shock is coming, and can escape by jumping through a door, he does so with no ill effects. It only takes a couple of shocks before he gets the gist of it. When the escape is taken away from the rat, and he gets punished no matter what he does, he starts to display physical breakdown not related to the shocks. When there are two rats trapped and getting shocked no matter what, they do not comfort each other to make it easier on themselves – they begin to fight, and once again, physically they are fine. The other rat is not responsible for the shock, and yet the first instinct is to fight the other rat. The point made by Laborit, and Resnais in this film, is that we are exactly the same as rats. But because we are smarter than rats, we should learn to move beyond this. If only things were that simple.

Humans are smarter than rats, and what contributes to their behavior is more complex, yet the fundamental principle is that we are essentially shaped by our parents and our upbringing. To make his point, Resnais tells the story of three people – Jean (Roger Pierre) the son of intellectuals, who becomes an intellectual himself, Janine (Nicole Garcia), the daughter of communist factory workers, who becomes an actress and Rene (Gerard Depardieu), the son of Catholic farmers who becomes a businessman. To a certain extent, all three of these characters think they are rebelling against their parents – Depardieu most directly when he calls his father old fashioned, and leaves the family farm. And yet their behavior through the years this film follows them is very much dictated by the values they were raised with. Resnais starts with them all separated, and then slowly starts to bring the storylines together – they all hinge on Janine, who knows both Jean and Rene, but the men never meet each other.

The title of the movie is interesting, because we never meet anyone American uncle, although at different points in the movie, each claims to have one. Listen to when they talk about their supposed American uncle, and you can see the way each was raised has effected their outlook on life –the fate they dreamed up for the American uncle they never knew, and aren’t even sure existed, tells you everything you need to know about these three people.

I’ve probably made Mon Oncle d’Amerique sound more like an intellectual exercise than a film. And to a certain extent, it is an intellectual exercise. But Laborit’s research that is peppered throughout the film is not dry and boring, but serves to bring the overall point of the film home. This is a film that despite its academic roots is entertaining and involving, drawing us into the people in the story, only to show us that they are trapped like rats, and have no control over what they do. It’s sad really. Resnais, one of the founders of the French New Wave, and the only director still around from the movement doing decent work (yes Godard is still making films, but I don’t think too much of them), has always been a daring director – a director willing to push things both thematically and aesthetically. I haven’t seen all of his films (and will have to see Providence and Muriel at some point in this series), but out of the films of his I have seen (including Night and Fog, Hiroshima Mon Amour, Last Year at Marienbad and Wild Grass), this one is my favorite. It is a challenging, thought provoking film.

The Best Films I've Never Seen Before: Love Streams (1984)

Love Streams (1984) ****
Directed by: John Cassavetes.
Written by: Ted Allan & John Cassavetes based on the play by Allan.
Starring: Gena Rowlands (Sarah Lawson), John Cassavetes (Robert Harmon), Diahnne Abbott (Susan), Seymour Cassel (Jack Lawson), Margaret Abbott (Margarita), Jakob Shaw (Albie Swanson), Eddy Donno (Stepfather Swanson), Joan Foley (Judge Dunbar), Al Ruban (Milton Kravitz).

John Cassavetes was a singular cinematic voice. With his 1959 film Shadows, he essentially created the independent film movement in America. And while over the next 25 years, he would direct a few mainstream films, and made his living as a fine actor in such films as The Dirty Dozen and Rosemary’s Baby, he spent much of his time directing smaller, more personal films. His best is inarguably A Woman Under the Influence, with its remarkable performance by his wife Gena Rowlands. Love Streams (1984) was essentially the last of his personal films (he directed another film the following year, but it was an utter failure, and was one of his mainstream efforts). Love Streams, like Cassavetes best work, is a film brimming with the messiness of real life – yet done in a style that some may call over the top, especially in its acting choices. Yet underneath that really is a film about pain and love.

To put it quite simply, Love Streams is a movie about a brother and a sister – one of whom loves too much and the other loves too little. Cassavetes himself play Robert, a successful novelist who writes about women. He has been divorced several times, and is now researching a new book about night life. Or so he says. We never see him writing, and all this research seems to be an excuse for Robert to do what he likes best – which is to drink and party and hang out with prostitutes all night long. One of his ex-wives shows up on his doorstep one day and introduces him to his son, who is now around 8. Robert knew his son existed, and has been writing cheques to support him for years (he writes cheques to everyone, including the prostitutes), but never met his son, and didn’t really care to. But the wife is in a bind, and needs Robert to watch the kid overnight. It’s clear Robert has no idea what to do around kids – it isn’t long before he gives his son a beer and decides to take the kid to Las Vegas for the night – although Robert essentially dumps the kid in the hotel room and goes out partying all night. We get the feeling that he is most likely never going to see his son again when he dumps him off at his mothers.

Then there is Robert’s sister Sarah (Gena Rowlands). Sarah is another one of Rowlands great creations for Cassavetes – from the party girl in Faces to the wife and mother struggling with her demons in A Woman Under the Influence to her out of control actress in Opening Night, Rowlands did her best work for her husband, and her performance here ranks among her best. She is going through a divorce from Jack (Cassavetes regular Seymour Cassel), because quite frankly, he cannot deal with her craziness any longer. They have a 13 year old daughter who is tired of being dragged all over by her mother (who visits sick people), and wants a more normal life – something Sarah cannot give her, but Jack can. But Sarah cannot let go – for her love is continuous and everlasting, and long after the divorce is final, she calls up Jack and wants to get back together – telling him once that she is “almost sane now” (his response “I simply don’t care anymore”).

These two characters are kept apart for about the first half of the movie (unless I missed it, they do not even mention that they are brother and sister) – until one day she shows up on his doorstep. It is clear from the moment they see each other that have a close bond – perhaps a little too close to be healthy for a brother and sister. For him, Sarah is perhaps the only person in the world he truly loves. He is so self involved, and uses people for what they can offer him, but for her, he goes out of his way to please her. When she shows up with a menagerie of animals, he thinks she has lost it, but nevertheless goes about caring for them. He tries desperately to hold onto her, even as she pulls away (brilliantly symbolized in an daring opera sequence).

Love Streams is unmistakably a Cassavetes films, even though it contains none of his hallmark handheld camera work, and is actually based on a play written by Ted Allan (who reworked it to fit Cassavetes style). His characters love to talk, are always a little insane, yet are struggling to hold onto relationships that mean something to them. Cassavetes had a unique way with children – making them not the small adults we see in some films, nor the naïve innocents we see in others. He doesn’t make them automatically lovable – but he does allow them to behave like children. Robert’s son, and Sarah’s daughter for that matter, could easily be described as brats – but what they really are children struggling with either an absent parent (Robert) or a parent who too demanding in her insanity (Sarah).

Like the best of Cassavetes films, he makes us feel sympathy for characters that really are not all that nice. Robert is the type of guy most people eventually abandon – because although he is fun, he is also selfish and immature, and will drag you down with him if you let him. Cassavetes, in perhaps his best performance as an actor, captures this selfishness, and never tries to earn our sympathy – yet gets it anyway. As for Rowlands, it is impossible not to think of A Woman Under the Influence when watching this film – he character her could easily be her character in that movie a little further down the line, and little further into her own insanity. In that film, she survived because her husband (Peter Falk) somehow understood her, and perhaps was a little insane herself. Here, Robert tries to do that for Sarah – but for her it is not enough.

No one in a Cassavetes film learns anything – there is no simple moralizing, characters don’t go through transformations and become cured or better or less selfish. They are who they are. The end of the film is sad, not because of a death or anything like that, but because we get the sense that these lonely people are doomed to repeat what we have just seen. Robert will sink back into his selfishness and self destruction, and Sarah is going off to start her cycle of dependence all over again. The final image in Love Streams is just about perfect.

The Best Films I've Never Seen Before: Scorpio Rising (1964)

Scorpio Rising (1964) ***
Directed By: Kenneth Anger.

When it was released, Scorpio Rising was considered a groundbreaking film in the underground movement. Upon its initial screening, it was reported to the LA Vice Squad, who raided the theater and confiscated the print as pornography – because of a few blink and you’ll miss it shots where you may be able to see a penis or two. A legal battle, which went all the way to the California Supreme Court, ended up correctly ruling that Scorpio Rising was not pornography and should be allowed to be shown because it had “redeeming social merit”. The film itself remains important – but mainly because of what it inspired. You can see the roots of films like Easy Rider here, as well as why the film served as an inspiration for filmmakers as diverse as Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, Nicolas Roeg and John Waters. Watching the film now, the shock value is pretty much completely gone, and the film mainly serves as a time capsule – a perfect product of its time and place.

Scorpio Rising is a wordless half hour long film that uses happy pop songs as an counterpoint to his film about nihilism and death in a motorcycle gang. He uses montage style filmmaking, in a definite homage to Sergei Eisenstein who perfected the style in films like Battleship Potemkin, to equate the bikers working on their machines to silly little children playing with their toys. Later, he will equate they way these men feel about their machines, with the way Christians feels about Jesus – in that they worship them. Finally, in the last segment, which is full of nihilism and death, he will equate them all to Nazis. That Anger pushed his point so far, and did so in just a half an hour, and without a word of dialogue being spoken, is truly an achievement on his part.

And some of the images in the film are truly memorable – especially as the film descends into chaos and violence and death. Anger’s film pokes fun at this homoerotic death cult by looking backwards in time – the bikers seem to worship James Dean and Marlon Brando as much as anyone. And ultimately, I think that is the point of Scorpio Rising. Anger is picking a subculture – biker gangs – who are predominantly known for being masculine and subverting it – making it queer for lack of a better word, to try and break down the barriers between gay and straight, or at least to get gay cinema into the conversation. Remember, this is a time where you still couldn’t have an openly gay character in your movie – just a few short years after Cat on a Hot Tin Roof had to make cuts so that it wasn’t as obvious that Paul Newman’s character was gay (it didn’t work, he was gay, and I think everyone knew it). That is why Scorpio Rising was so shocking in 1964 – people hadn’t seen something as in your face as this before.

However, in the 47 years since Scorpio Rising has been released, we have seen a lot more than what Anger did. Having said that, Scorpio Rising remains a fascinating film – it predates the music video by decades, and yet many videos use the same basic structure that Anger applies here. Martin Scorsese would take using pop music as a counterpoint to his violent opuses to a new level. John Waters would push the envelope of gay cinema much further a decade later. And yet on a certain level, it all comes back to Scorpio Rising.

I don’t think Scorpio Rising is a great film. A great film never really ages no matter how old it gets, and that is not something you can say about this film. It has aged a lot in 47 years. One of the challenges of a film like Scorpio Rising is to try and see it the way people saw it when it was first released – something nearly impossible for someone like me, who was not even close to being born in 1964. And yet, when I try, I understand why this film felt so dangerous, so liberating back when it was made. Now, it seems almost quaint compared to what we are used to seeing. In 1964, Scorpio Rising was dangerous. There are few films of its time that has cast a bigger shadow over modern film than Scorpio Rising has. So, no matter what its shortcomings are as a film in 2011, its place in cinema history is assured – and should be respected.

Movie Review: Rango

Rango ****
Directed by: Gore Verbinski.
Written by: John Logan & Gore Verbinski & James Ward Byrkit.
Starring: Johnny Depp (Rango / Lars), Isla Fisher (Beans), Abigail Breslin (Priscilla), Ned Beatty (Mayor), Alfred Molina (Roadkill), Bill Nighy (Rattlesnake Jake), Stephen Root (Doc / Merrimack / Mr. Snuggles), Harry Dean Stanton (Balthazar), Timothy Olyphant (Spirit of the West), Ray Winstone (Bad Bill), Ian Abercrombie (Ambrose).

Rango is an animated comedy that children are going to enjoy because it’s fast paced, colorful and funny – but that adults, especially adult film lovers – are going to absolutely love. It has been a while since I had as much fun at a movie as I did at Rango, which is proof that Pixar is not the only outfit out there making great animated film. This film is from Gore Verbinski, who has spent the better part of his career making Pirates of the Caribbean movies (although he is not doing the next one). This film, like the first Pirates movie, is fun, fast paced, witty and drowning in movie love. For a film lover like me, nothing could be better.

Rango is a lizard who leads a lonely existence. He fancies himself an actor, and puts on elaborate plays, but there is no one there to watch them, or even to act with him – his companions are a toy fish and a headless Barbie doll. We soon find out why – Rango is someone’s pet, but when the car he is riding in hits a bump, his aquarium falls out and smashes on the ground, leaving Rango, for the first time in his life, to fend for himself. He meets the aptly named Roadkill, who tells him of a town out in the desert, so off Rango goes, crossing the desert on foot. When he gets to the town, it is straight out of an old Western. The town is suffering its worst drought ever, with water nowhere to be found. Rango is not exactly welcomed into the community – so he becomes an actor once again, and puts on a tough façade. Through a series of weird things, he kills an eagle, and becomes a hero. But it isn’t long before the real Rango comes out.

The plot is pretty much standard issue kids movie stuff – the hero acts like a tough guy, even though he’s not, and then gets humiliated and leaves – only to triumphantly return in the last reel. Come to think of it, that describes many Westerns as well. Verbinski is a clever director, and he plays with Western stereotypes the whole way through. Film buffs will love to spot the film references littered throughout the movie, both obvious and not so obvious. Verbinski also fills the screen with so much clever visual details, I have a feeling it is going to take a few times through in order to catch them all.

The supporting cast of characters helps Verbinski a great deal in poking loving fun of the old Westerns. I particularly loved Ned Beatty as the turtle mayor of the small town, who looks, sounds and acts just like you expect Chinatown era John Huston would – if he was a turtle of course. Isla Fisher is the lovable love interest for Rango – a no nonsense farm girl, trying to make her way after her father’s tragic death. Bill Nighy is excellent as the evil rattlesnake (is there any other kind?). Abigail Breslin has the role of the smart aleck kid who gets to tell Rango that “Strangers don’t last long around here” – and the Stephen Root plays a trio of characters, who are comic versions of the stock characters we saw in all those John Ford westerns. And finally, I will not spoil one of my favorite moments in the film, but I did love Timothy Olyphant as the “Spirit of the West”.

But this really is Johnny Depp’s film, even though he is only a voice behind Rango, it continues his string of lovably eccentric characters, where Depp makes interesting choices in his performance. In fact, it was actually quite refreshing to see (or I guess hear) Depp be this good in a film – as it has been a while since he did more than just coast, either on his charm or his weirdness. His Rango truly is a wonderful comic creation for Depp.

I have always thought that Verbinski was an underrated director. He improved upon what I thought was an overrated Japanese horror movie when he made The Ring, and his The Weatherman is one of the most underrated dark comedies of the last decade. The Pirates movies became far more bloated than they should have been as they moved along, and I am glad that he is finally out from under them, but at their best, they did show some great imagination on his part. Rango takes that all a step further, and proves that Verbinski is the real deal. I had an almost impossible amount of fun at Rango – if I see a better animated film in 2011, I will be truly stunned.