Editorial: Why Sony Cancelled "The Interview"

INTERVIEW CONCLUDED by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: A poster for "The Interview," featuring its stars, Seth Rogen and James Franco

 

Like a freak snowstorm, the news breathed through my radio: Sony pictures had decided not to release their film “The Interview.” 

I was shocked.  I hadn’t even been planning to see the film, yet the announcement made me feel like I’d had the wind knocked out of me, like that time when I crashed down on the bark chips in third grade.  A whole movie, an entire mega-budget movie had been completed and wasn’t going to be released?  It was unheard of.  It was frightening.

            “The Interview” was always going to be a shot in the dark of Christmas Day (its penciled-in release date).  Directed by Evan Goldberg and Seth Rogen, it was a comedy about a talk show host (James Franco) hired to assassinate Kim Jong-un, leading to a series of hi jinks in which, judging by the trailer (which features tank-fueled explosions and a Katy Perry song), nothing goes according to the proverbial plan.

            I could never quite believe that “The Interview” got made in the first place.  A film about the attempted murder of a known world leader?  From the directors a gross-out Hollywood comedy called “This Is The End”?  It seemed like an unbelievably brash proposition.  Of course for all I know (and now, I’ll never know), “The Interview” is a tepid, easy blockbuster filled with blandly crowd-pleasing drug and sex gags.  But I have to admit that I was struck by the ludicrous audacity of Mr. Goldberg and Mr. Rogen making a movie that would have further collapsed the divide between pop culture and politics.

            I’m not here to offer my opinions on Sony’s decision.  Or the movie.  Perhaps “The Interview” is an unseen masterpiece; perhaps the fact that it will never be seen makes it more interesting than it deserves to be.  I just want to implore you to take in the importance of what this means for the film community.  A major studio made a movie, was threatened with retribution, and decided to keep it from theaters, even though it meant losing tens of millions of dollars.

            Now we find out what happens next.

Editorial: Why Jonathan Frakes Should Direct The Next "Star Trek"

FRAKES FOREVER by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: Mr. Frakes, playing William Riker

 

In the late 1980s, Jonathan Frakes decided that he wanted to direct an episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation.”  It wasn’t an outlandish idea; he was already an integral part of the show as the heroically-bearded Commander William Riker.  Nevertheless, the producers of “TNG” answered his request with an ultimatum: go to film school.

            For some actors, that would be the end of it.  But Mr. Frakes did indeed go onto study film, which led to his directorial debut—a “TNG” episode called “The Offspring.”  And it wasn’t just good; it was heart-swelling.  A story about a father, a daughter, and an anguished moment of technological failure, “The Offspring” was both painful and wonderful, an ode to parenthood, unexpected humanity, and, most of all, love.

            Post-“Offspring,” Mr. Frakes firmly established himself as a fine television director, before graduating to movies by directing two “Star Trek” films (“Star Trek: First Contact” and “Star Trek: Insurrection,” both excellent).  But now, if he has his way, that achievement will be eclipsed by the heftiest undertaking of his career—directing the third installment in the bigger, louder, brighter, J.J. Abrams-produced “Star Trek” saga.

            There are some, I’m sure, who think that Mr. Frakes is a relic, that the new “Trek” should be handed to a blockbuster maven at the height of their popularity (like Rupert Wyatt or Edgar Wright, both of whom have been rumored for the job).  But I disagree.  I argue that not only is Mr. Frakes the right man for the project because he understands “Star Trek,” but because he is a bold and sensitive filmmaker, an artist wise to the omnipotence of emotion and the tactile details that reveal it.

            Understanding “Star Trek” has always been a damning obstacle for filmmakers.  Ever since William Shatner’s Captain Kirk first announced his intention “to boldly go where no man has gone before,” “Star Trek” has been about exploration, not conflict.  Yet while the franchise has produced some fine sci-fi films, even the best of them dutifully imitate the “Star Wars” formula—an intergalactic tyrant gets his crafty hands on a super-weapon and the fireworks begin.  And that’s made it difficult for the series to probe its signature questions about the nature of humanity and the ethics of exploration.

            I can’t say that Mr. Frakes has entirely avoided this booby trap; after all, the villains of “First Contact” and “Insurrection” (Alice Krige’s Borg Queen and F. Murray Abraham’s Ru’afo, respectively) both had the usual planet-destroying ambitions.  Yet Mr. Frakes made more of them than most filmmakers would.  The Borg Queen, for one, was not solidly evil; she tempted even the noble android Data (Brent Spiner) with her offer of power and sexual pleasure.  “Strange,” Data murmurs after slaying her.  “Part of me is sad that she is gone.”

            “Insurrection” was an even richer tapestry.  Set on idyllic, youth-preserving planet, it allowed the “Trek” characters to frisk about in the sun, casting off their inhibitions (along with their trademark purple uniforms).  Patrick Stewart’s Picard danced to an Alan Silvestri mambo; Data bonded with a young, technophobic boy; and Marina Sirtis’ Troi and Mr. Frakes’ own Riker got into some bubble bath-related mischief that is better seen than described.  The kicker?  That all of these hi jinks were more than crowd-pleasing; they exemplified the characters’ playfulness and their love for each other, offering a lithe and gentle spirit that could be a perfect way to soften the aggressively fast-paced violence of Mr. Abrams’ films.

            I don’t mean to knock Mr. Abrams—he’s a true auteur, a beautifully eccentric talent who infuses all of his projects with a singular blend of anguish and adrenaline.  Yet I still think that Mr. Frakes is a gifted filmmaker in his own right, especially when it comes to penetrating the private spaces of characters.  Remember the moment in “First Contact” when Picard washes his face in a small metal sink?  Or when Michael Dorn’s Worf bangs his head on his bedroom ceiling in “Insurrection”?  I do.  Those scenes may not have made it into the “Star Trek” history books, but they provided more character development than a hundred-page monologue about an unhappy childhood ever could.

That said, several years have passed since Mr. Frakes last directed a theatrically-released movie (his last was 2004’s “Thunderbirds”); for all I know, his talent has waned in the intervening years.  But as a both a “Star Trek” fan and movie lover, I want to see him return to that adventurous, hopeful universe.  Any filmmaker can make a “Trek” movie, but Mr. Frakes is one of the few who can say that right or wrong, hit or miss, his will mean something, will transport you, take you into the vistas of space and into the thoughts of its explorers as they boldly go, yet again.

Movie Review: "It's A Wonderful Life" (Frank Capra, 1942)

BEDFORD CALLING by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: George Bailey (James Stewart) faces his fate in Mr. Capra's film

 

You know James Stewart—that likable, halting, gangly movie star, the actor who so confidently played the awkward everyman.  Yet behind his casual humanity is something else: anger.  Alfred Hitchcock tapped it in “Vertigo,” but it spews most forcefully in Frank Capra’s 1942 magical-realist drama “It’s A Wonderful Life.”  The first time you see Mr. Stewart in the movie, he’s spreading his arms wide, smiling innocently, and looking utterly wholesome.  But before the film’s runtime has elapsed, that familiar face contorts as Mr. Stewart shouts and runs, breaking out into storms of sadness and violence.

            Why then, do so many people watch the movie on Christmas Day?  “It’s A Wonderful Life” may be optimistic, but it’s also ferocious and even ghoulish.  As a late scene in a graveyard shows, it’s equally suited for a midnight screening on Halloween.  Yet Mr. Capra’s movie is no fright fest—instead, it is a vibrant, emotional journey of one man struggling against his own demons and the world’s.

            That man is George Bailey (Mr. Stewart), a kid growing up in the fictional town of Bedford Falls, New York.  He’s eager to leave and it’s not hard to see why—Bedford doesn’t look like much fun, especially since it’s ruled by a sneering, wealthy tycoon named Henry Potter (a fantastic Lionel Barrymore).  Yet on the night of his departure, George’s father asks if he would ever consider working at the family business, the town Building in Loan.  “I couldn’t stand being cooped in an office,” George protests.  But even as he says it, you can almost sense that he’s doomed to do just that.

            And so it begins—a pattern of painful, infuriating events that keeps George trapped in Bedford, running the Building in Loan.  First his father dies; then his brother gets married and refuses to take over the business.  That leaves George, never one to mince words but never one to say no either, to stay at the office, knowing that his puny but honest bank is the last obstacle blocking Potter’s attempts to financially exploit the town.

            It’s better not to dwell on the economic realities of George’s life; the movie’s not concerned with them and you shouldn’t be either.  What does matter to Mr. Capra (who adapted the film from Philip Van Doren Stern’s short story “The Greatest Gift”) is the anguish of George.  It’s not just that he’s trapped in a small town he’s always hated; it’s that it’s a miserable, hopeless place.  Mr. Barrymore, alive with eager cruelty, haunts the film and even when George’s life really is wonderful, it seems bleak.  Look at the scene where he and his wife (Donna Murphy) hold a house warming party for their friends.  First they’re happy; then they’re left alone on a dusty road, caught in the quiet.

            If “It’s A Wonderful Life” was merely the moral drama it initially appears to be, it would be a painful and beautiful work.  But the supernatural turn that sharpens the final act makes it a masterwork.  Battered, drunken, and hated, George stumbles through Beford’s snow-mushy streets one Christmas Eve, having lost all faith in himself.  But then, guided by his guardian angel, Clarence (Henry Travers), he sees something strange—a vision of what the world would be like if he’d never been born.  “Each man’s life touches so many others,” Clarence says.  Everything that follows movingly and chillingly proves his point.

            I don’t want to spoil the rest.  The vision of the world without George is perversely alluring—a chaotic alternate reality where Bedford Falls is overrun by tyrants, drunks, and hookers.  But the film still finds its way back, back from the edge of the bridge where George imagines killing himself, back from the dreary rage of the Building in Loan, and back to the home where George’s family and friends are waiting for him. 

Maybe George should have left Bedford in the beginning; maybe he should never have stayed behind and been nobly miserable for the sake of others.  But what makes “It’s A Wonderful Life” so meaningful is that in the end, its bitter, selfless hero finds some wonder, if not in the way he always imagined.

Trailer Dossier: "Star Wars: Episode VII--The Force Awakens" (J.J. Abrams, 2015)

BACK TO THE FRONTLINES by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: Oscar Isaac takes the controls of an X-Wing in the next "Star Wars" film

 

“A well conceived plan.”  So said Qui-Gon Jinn in “Star Wars: Episode I” when Queen Amidala unveiled her anti-Trade Federation battle plans.  And so say I of Disney’s marketing strategy for the forthcoming “Star Wars: Episode VII—The Force Awakens.”   It’s brilliant, really—dropping a trailer the day after Thanksgiving was the perfect method for stoking the fires of “Star Wars”-friendly Christmas shopping (and more than a year before the movie premieres, no less).

            I’m not really that cynical.  It’s just that in the pantheon of my cinematic loves, the “Star Wars” saga is right up there with Christopher Nolan, the first Spider-Man trilogy, and the final scene of “Lost In Translation.”  And to me, Richard Marquand’s concluding chapter, “Return of the Jedi,” was the perfect cap to the series’ outer space war of good versus evil—a tragic, tender, and exhilaratingly emotional blockbuster.  Any attempt to go beyond such a meaningful wrap party can’t help but look economically brilliant and artistically unwise.

            Still, there’s much to love in the “Force Awakens” trailer.  The first shot of a young soldier abruptly rising into the frame may look cartoonish (the actor, John Boyega, wears a white uniform that looks like a Halloween costume), but that may be the point.  At its best, “Star Wars” had always had an anarchic comic book feel, and a mischievous blast of roguish fun—the spark best supplied in the original films by Harrison Ford’s heroic scoundrel Han Solo.

            Mr. Ford doesn’t appear in this trailer (even though he does star in the film), which disappointed me.  Still, it makes sense for director J.J. Abrams to save the best for last, and what he does offer here is promising—shots of familiar spaceships skirting over a watery planet; a round robot rolling across a dessert, making vibrantly squeaky noises; and sleek, gleaming-red sci-fi weaponry, promising the conflict that will inevitably fill the film.

            In other words, the trailer for “The Force Awakens” is a visually magnetic, tantalizing piece of pop art in and of itself.  That doesn’t bode either ill or well for the film (after all, plenty of bad movies have beautiful trailers), but it does give us something to salivate over until the film is released on December 18^TH, 2015. 

            I’m still skeptical.  But with “Star Trek” and “Star Trek Into Darkness,” Mr. Abrams did merge bright emotion and smooth special effects, creating two bombastically human adventures.  I hope he’ll achieve the same thing with “The Force Awakens.”  And either way, I’ll be there on opening day, ready to return to that galaxy far, far away once more.