Film Review: Super 8

I have long considered Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T: The Extra-Terrestrial the bookends of my childhood.

The former arrived at the beginning, the same year as Star Wars, and opened my eyes to the magical possibilities of movies. The latter came at the end, closing out an extraordinary five-year period that included such films as Superman, The Empire Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Ark.

All were highly imaginative, extremely influential tales that not only fostered my love of storytelling but lit the fuse for what would become a lifelong passion for cinema. I revisit these films more than any others and am always on the lookout for new ones that recapture that special time and place, that sense of awe and wonder.

J.J. Abrams' new film Super 8, a nostalgia-drenched tale of movie-loving kids tracking a creature terrorizing their small Ohio town, is a throwback to those iconic films of the late '70s and early '80s, a long-lost first cousin of both Close Encounters and E.T. No surprise really, as one S. Spielberg is a producer.

Appropriately set in 1979, Super 8 follows a handful of junior-high-age friends, newly paroled from school for the summer, as they try and finish their homemade zombie movie in time for a fast-approaching film festival. Charles (Riley Griffiths) is the film's pudgy writer and director; his best friend Joe (Joel Courtney), still reeling from the loss of his mother the previous winter, handles the make-up; mouthy Cary (Ryan Lee, channeling a young Jack Earl Haley) is a borderline pyromaniac and of course is in charge of effects; Alice (Elle Fanning), the lone girl of the group, is the lead actress and the object of both Charles' and Joe's affection.

Late one night while filming a scene at the local train station, the group watches in shock as a pick-up truck intentionally hops the track and plows headfirst into an oncoming freight train. The ensuing derailment and explosion scatters boxcars and debris for miles, including thousands of odd, multi-tiered cubes, one of which Joe quickly pockets. Amid the wreckage they find the pick-up's battered driver, the junior high's science teacher Dr. Woodward (Glen Turman, who also played the ill-fated science teacher in the Spielberg-produced Gremlins); Woodward, while pointing a gun at their heads, tells them to run and forget what they saw.

The train turns out to be a mysterious military transport under the command of taciturn Air Force Colonel Nelec (Noah Emmerich); soon hundreds of soldiers have descended on the site, retrieving the strange cubes and searching for something that appears to be missing.

It not long before that something begins wrecking havoc on the town: dozens of dogs are reported missing; whole engine blocks are being stripped from neighborhood cars; people, including the sheriff, are just up and vanishing; and if that wasn't enough, all those cubes begin making a beeline for the downtown water tower.

While Joe's sheriff's deputy father (Kyle Chandler) begins his own investigation, the kids begin to realize the answers just may be on that roll of film they shot that fateful night.

Steven Spielberg calls Super 8 J.J. Abrams' first real film (his previous features include reboots of the Mission: Impossible and Star Trek franchises); Actually, this is J.J. Abrams' first Steven Spielberg film. Everything - the pacing, photography, the us-against-the-government storyline - is a blatant homage to Spielberg's classic alien-contact films. There are scenes that are exact duplicates of ones found in Close Encounters and E.T. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I sat there giddy as a kid watching a movie that easily could have been a missing 1979 middle act.

And while the comparison to those two films will undoubtedly be the focus, it shouldn't overshadow Abrams' talent as a filmmaker. His command of story, expert direction of a young cast and ability to dazzle an audience visually may remind us of a certain bespectacled, bearded gentleman, but they are the inherent traits of a born craftsman, one that will undoubtedly enchant moviegoers for decades to come.

Super 8 returns that special sense of awe and wonder to the screen, recapturing a time and innocence that anyone who remembers falling in love with movies can relate to.

30 Years of Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark

It was May 1977 and friends Steven Spielberg and George Lucas were vacationing on the beach in Hawaii together, each one seeking refuge from rigors of Hollywood filmmaking. Lucas was avoiding the opening weekend of a little space adventure called Star Wars. Spielberg was in post-production on Close Encounters of the Third Kind and mulling future projects, possibly a James Bond film.

 Lucas, seeing the opening of a lifetime, told Spielberg he had an idea of something like a Bond film only better, an action-adventure in the old tradition of the Saturday- matinee serials they both had grown up with as kids. It would take place in the '30s and feature a globetrotting archaeologist-adventurer, Indiana Smith, as he battled the forces of evil in search of the lost Ark of the Covenant. Lucas actually had an entire series in mind and called them his Raiders films. 

 Spielberg loved the concept, agreed to direct the film and both he and Lucas began developing the project over the next few years. As things progressed, Spielberg would go on to direct the ill-fated 1979 WWII comedy 1941 and Lucas began focusing his attention on the sequel to his now hugely popular Star Wars film, 1980's The Empire Strikes Back. 

 Finally, four long years after that initial conversation on a Hawaiian beach and featuring a fedora-wearing, whip-cracking character now called Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark arrived in theaters on June 12, 1981. I was 10 years old at the time and the theatrical one-sheet poster said it all: "From the creators of Jaws and Star Wars." I loved Star Wars, was still reeling from emotional revelations of The Empire Strikes Back the previous summer. I had just secretly caught Jaws on cable and was wonderfully scared to death. And as if I needed further incentive, it starred Harrison Ford, Han Solo, my boy. Needless to say when my Dad picked me up on opening weekend and asked what I wanted to do, "See Raiders of the Lost Ark "were the only words that fell from my lips. 

 From the the retrieval of the idol inside the Peruvian temple to the fateful opening of the Ark one hundred minutes later, Raiders is a relentless thrill ride stuffed to the gills with one outlandish, heart-pounding sequence after another: the shoot-out in Marion's tavern; the chase through the streets of Cairo; the unearthing of the Ark inside the snake-infested Well of Souls; the fist fight with the German mechanic next to the Flying Wing; Indy taking on the German army aboard the cargo truck. Simply put, Raiders of the Lost Ark is the greatest action-adventure film of all time.

 It's hard to imagine anyone but Harrison Ford playing Indy (Tom Selleck was Lucas and Spielberg's first choice but he couldn't get away from Magnum P.I. Somehow I just can't see Tom's mustache staring out under the brim of that fedora). Ford elevates the character beyond a one-dimensional action hero, infusing it with the perfect balance of charm, wit, ruggedness and vulnerability, making Indy's credo of "making this up as I go" utterly engaging and completely relatable. 

 Karen Allen shines as Indy's feisty former flame and "partner" Marion Ravenwood, John Rys-Davies provides just the right amount of levity as Jones' sidekick Sallah and Paul Freeman and Ronald Lacey are devilishly fun as Indy's villainous foils Rene Belloq and Major Arnold Toht.

 And then there's John Williams' rousing, iconic score, probably his best behind Star Wars and E.T. Williams' music is a living, breathing character, perfectly in sync with every bit of action and just as intrical to the story as any of the principals. Take the score away and I'm probably not writing this piece thirty years later.

  Raiders became the highest-grossing film of 1981 and would go on to earn $380,140,454 worldwide throughout its nearly two-year theatrical run. It spawned three highly successful sequels, a Disney attraction, action figures, video games, comics and countless imitations.

 Yes, it's hard to believe it's been thirty years since George Lucas and Steven Spielberg caught lightning in a bottle and introduced one of cinema's most iconic characters in one of the most entertaining and often-revisited films of all time, the gold standard of action adventures. The things Saturday-matinee dreams are made of.

Film Review: Midnight In Paris

It's been five years since Woody Allen ditched his once-beloved New York City and began making what could loosely be called theatrical tourism commercials for various countries around Europe. England, Spain and now France have all partially underwritten the majority of the Oscar-winning filmmaker's last seven films, primarily because Allen is more popular in Europe than the U.S., but also to help showcase the continent to prospective visitors.

Some have been fresh, welcome surprises ( Match Point, Vicky Christina Barcelona), others overly contrived, tired retreads (Scoop, You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger). Frankly after six European-set films, I was ready for Woody to immigrate back to New York. That was until I saw his new film Midnight in Paris.

Paris tells the story of Gil Bender ( a better-than-usual Owen Wilson), a successful Hollywood screenwriter on vacation in Paris with his fiance Inez (the always-fetching Rachel McAdams) and her parents (Kurt Fuller and Mimi Kennedy). Gil is writing a novel and wants to ensconce himself in the romance of the Paris literary scene in the 1920s. Inez would rather shop and visit the tourist attractions with also-in-town American friends Paul and Carol (Michael Sheen and Nina Arianda).

One night, after consuming too much wine and not wanting to go out dancing with the others, Gil goes for a walk on the rain-soaked backsteets of Paris and promptly gets lost. At the stroke of midnight, an immaculately maintained 1920s-era automobile pulls up and whisks Gil off to a party underway at a local bar. Everyone there is dressed in full twenties regalia, Cole Porter is playing piano in the back and soon F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston and Allison Pill) are introducing themselves. Skeptical at first, Gil quickly becomes a believer when the Fitzgeralds introduce him to Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll). The two hit it off immediately and soon Gil is asking Hemingway to read his novel. Hemingway declines but says he'll take a copy to Gertrude Stein. Gil leaves the bar to fetch his manuscript and as he turns back to confirm where they'll meet, the bar has been replaced by a contemporary Laundromat.

Of course Gill is right back at the same spot the next night and soon he's hobnobbing with Stein ( a perfect Kathy Bates), Salvador Dali (Adrian Brody), Pablo Picasso and his sexy muse Adriana (Marion Cotillard). It's not long before Gil is falling for the magic of Paris and questioning his future with Inez.

This is Allen's most enchanting and entertaining work in years. The script, the characters, everything seems fresh and full of life. It reminded me of one his best films, 1984's The Purple Rose of Cairo where a character jumps off the silver screen and follows a woman home. That film had a sweet, magical quality and it's marvelously on display here once again.

There certainly are enough enticing locales to call Midnight in Paris a theatrical tourism commercial (it made me want to book a flight as soon as I got home). What elevates it above that is simply a great story in the hands of one of the world's truly great filmmakers. If you're going to make them like this, Woody, you can stay across the pond for a little while longer.