Bolt (John Powell, 2008): Disney’s 2008 CGI animated feature was not a musical, thus the soundtrack album primarily features the orchestral score by composer John Powell, who has generally done some of his best work in animated features (including Shrek, the Ice Age sequels, Kung Fu Panda, and How to Train Your Dragon).  This was his first score for Disney and it is well suited to the film.

The soundtrack album opens with the two songs from the film, both of which have a modern country style.  The first is “I Thought I Lost You”, the end-credits song performed by the film’s voice stars John Travolta and Miley Cyrus, which is a fairly interesting pairing for a duet.  The other song is “Barking at the Moon” performed by Jenny Lewis, which was used more prominently over a key montage sequence in the film.

Powell’s score has an interesting mix of styles, due to the somewhat dual nature of the film itself.  The main story of the lost dog trying to find its way home called for a fairly tender, emotionally driven score, which Powell builds around a piano-driven main theme.  This aspect of the score is quickly introduced during the first cue of the score portion of the soundtrack entitled “Meet Bolt”.  Powell also provides a fun, vaguely Godfather-inspired  theme for Mittens the cat, which is introduced in the cue “Meet Mittens”.  Other parts of the score have a bit more of a rural, country-inspired feel.

The other key aspect of the score is the very fast-paced, action music that is principally featured in the title character’s super-hero type TV series within the movie.  For these sequences, Powell provides an edgy, heavily synthesizer driven score.  On the soundtrack album, these cues feel a bit out of step with the rest of the score, although they fit perfectly in those sequences in the film.  This aspect of the score is heard early on with “Bolt Transforms” and “Scooter Chase” and Powell does occasionally re-introduce some of the TV series action music during appropriate, action-oriented sections of the main storyline.

Born Free (John Barry, 1966): Outside of his James Bond songs, the title song from Born Free is almost certainly the most recognizable and familiar composition of John Barry’s career.  The Matt Monro recording of the song (which features lyrics by Don Black) was a big hit and  became Monro’s signature song.  A cover version by Roger Williams was also a top-10 hit.

The title song is the best remembered aspect of the score and its melody is the dominant theme.  Like the song, the score is very lush and romantic and extremely melodic.  Fitting the family-oriented adventure film, the score has a definite playful quality to it and Barry also occasionally introduces some bits and pieces of African styling, such as some of the use of percussion in the cue “Elsa at Play”.  Some slightly darker tones come into play in “The Death of Pati”, while still maintaining the overall style of the score.

For the 1966 soundtrack album, Barry conducted a re-recording of the score’s highlights.  This re-recording plus the Monro version of the song runs just under 40 minutes in length.  The soundtrack album was released on CD by Film Score Monthly in 2004 in a, rare for the label, non limited-edition that was widely distributed to stores.  The CD doesn’t contain any additional music (or the original film tracks), but it is a solid representation of the score.

Born on the Fourth of July (John Williams and Various artists, 1989): This film featured John Williams first of the three scores (preceding JFK and Nixon) that he composed for director Oliver Stone.  Those scores were among the darkest and most somber that Williams composed.  This means that they weren’t among the most accessible to listen to separately from the films, but the scores were exceptionally effective within the films.  The Born on the Fourth of July score isn’t one that I return to very often, but it is a very impressive, serious composition that should be a part of any serious film music collection.

The soundtrack album for Born on the Fourth of July is a mix of a song and score album.  The film used contemporary to the era music pretty extensively to help establish the late 60s/early 70s setting and, particularly, the scenes involving the Vietnam War protest groups and the general counterculture of the era.  The album opens with cover versions of Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” by Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians” and John Fogerty’s  “Born On the Bayou” recorded by The Broken Homes.  Both of these were recorded for the film.

The rest of the songs were original artists versions of “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison, “American Pie” by Don Mclean, “My Girl” by The Temptations, “Soldier Boy” by The Shirelles, “Venus” by Frankie Avalon, and  the familiar choral version of Henry Mancini’s “Moon River”.  All are good songs, of course, but they are also very widely available from other sources and it would have been vastly preferable to have had more of the score instead.

The score portion of the album opens with “Prologue”, a distinguished and somber theme for solo trumpet, extremely well performed by former Boston Pops lead trumpeter Tim Morrison, a frequent Williams collaborator.  This immediately establishes the very serious mood of the score.  This theme is re-visited quite a bit during the rest of the score cues and Morrison’s solo trumpet is also utilized to perform other themes within the score.

During the second cue, “The Early Days, Massapequa, 1957”, Williams establishes the other primary theme of the score, which is a fairly romantic Americana theme that reflects the all-American, small town origins of the film’s central character.  As the score progresses, this theme is re-visited frequently, but with darker, more downbeat shadings as the film’s very serious story arc plays out.  This is especially true of the last couple cues of the album, which score the last parts of the film after the injured main character has returned home from the war.  Especially effective is Williams use of a bit of a pop beat under the trumpet performance of his Americana theme during “Homecoming”, with a revisit of the “Prologue” theme interrupting it, causing a fairly abrupt shift from optimism to sadness.

The soundtrack also includes a couple cues that underscore the film’s war sequences.  The first of these, “The Shooting of Wilson” is mostly very dissonant in sound with harsh strings and bursts of percussion and brass underlining the tension and pain of the war.  It is the most difficult cue on the album to listen to, although it is still very expertly composed.  The cue ends with repeats of the score’s two main themes, providing a sort of release.  The second war cue, “Cua Viet River, Vietnam, 1968” is more melodic and interweaves more of the main themes, but in a very dark and foreboding style.  Williams’ use of vocal whispering (with unrecognizable words) is a particularly unsettling element of this cue.

Williams’ score only takes up about 25 minutes on the album, so this is obviously a very prime candidate for an expanded release.  Not counting Williams (mostly early) scores that have never been released outside of their films at all, this is almost certainly his most under-represented score out there.  The album does hit the top highlights of the score giving a solid taste for it, but there definitely is a need for more of it to be made available.

Boy On a Dolphin (Hugo Friedhofer, 1957): Intrada released a limited edition CD release of this interesting and fairly exotic Hugo Friedhofer score.  Previously, the score had been released on LP several times (including a release contemporary to the film) as well as on a Japanese-import CD, but the Intrada disc added a little over 10 minutes of additional music and was the first domestic CD release and the first time the score has been available in stereo.    The CD also includes a demo version of the title song.

The album opens with a title song, performed by singer Mary Kaye.  The song’s melody serves as a primary theme for the instrumental score as well.  It is a melodic, vaguely fantastical song that establishes the primary overall tone for the score.  The entire score has a somewhat exotic, vaguely Mediterranean sound to it.

Friedhofer also makes good use of slower paced string and woodwind centered melodies to help establish a mood fitting to the film’s underwater sequences.  Adding to the exotic, vaguely otherworldly quality are some wordless female vocals that overlay some of the cues.  The cue “Nocturnal Sea” is a particularly notable example of this aspect of the score.

The Boy Who Could Fly (Bruce Broughton, 1986): This is one of my favorite film scores and a soundtrack that I return to very often.  The CD that I have was a promotional release that was put out by Percepto Records in a limited edition of only 500 copies.  I purchased it when it originally became available, but it is now long sold out and used copies generally go for hundreds of dollars.  An earlier Varese Sarabande release contained a shorter, re-recording of the score, which was released on LP contemporary with the film and was also briefly available on CD, although it is now a bit hard to find.  The Varese album is still available from iTunes as a download.

The score is primarily built around an absolutely beautiful, sensitive and highly memorable main theme.  The theme is introduced right at the beginning of the soundtrack in the cue “Meeting Eric”.  The theme is initially presented in a very low key version played on piano, harp, flute and acoustic guitar, but the theme builds over the course of the score, eventually making it to soaring, fully orchestral presentations that primarily score the film’s flying sequences, particularly in the cue “The Hospital/Flying” and in the last portion of the spectacular finale cue “Milly and Eric Flee/Into the Air”.

While the main theme is repeated frequently throughout the score in a wide variety of orchestrations, Broughton does also provide some very effective secondary themes as well.  For the film’s soldier-obsessed younger brother character (who was played by a very young Fred Savage), Broughton provides a theme that manages to successfully sound military while still remaining gentle and playful.  A sensitive, somewhat melancholy theme is presented in the cue “Family”, which blends a piano theme with some short, very low key statements of the main theme.

Broughton also effectively brings the score into some darker places, when needed, with both some more subdued variations on the themes for some of the sadder sequences of the film as well as some occasionally tense music when needed.  This is especially noted in the cues “Eric Agitated/Louis Defeated” and “The Rainstorm/The Ring” as well as in the fairly abrupt strings that conclude “The Hospital/Flying”.

In the film itself, a pop song was selected to play over the film’s end credits, but the Percepto CD includes an unused end credits suite that Broughton wrote for the film.  This cue, simply entitled “The Boy Who Could Fly”, is the most complete presentation of the main theme, including its progression from the simple, lightly-orchestrated version into the fully orchestral theme.  It is a major shame that this wasn’t kept for the film as it would have been the ideal conclusion.

One bit of trivia about this score is that the main theme is likely to be very familiar to frequent movie-goers in Los Angeles, particularly Disney fans, even if they don’t remember or never saw the movie.  Before every show at the El Capitan Theater in Hollywood, they do an elaborate light show as they open the curtains.  The music used during the curtain opening is the theme from The Boy Who Could Fly.  The exact music used at the theater starts at the 1:25 mark during the unused closing credits cue on the Percepto CD, although I strongly suspect that the recording used is actually taken from the re-recording that Erich Kunzel did with the Cincinnati Pops for the CD entitled Fantastic Journey.

The Boys from Brazil (Jerry Goldsmith, 1978): For this thriller, Jerry Goldsmith made the somewhat unusual choice of crafting an original waltz that would serve as the score’s primary theme.  This impressive composition of soaring strings and triumphant brass is one of Goldsmith’s most popular compositions among film score enthusiasts.

The waltz is immediately introduced during the film’s “Main Title” cue and is re-visited pretty regularly.  The rest of the score includes some pretty impressive action music, which emphasizes percussion and brass.  Particularly notable is Goldsmith’s use of tuba and trombone to ramp up the intensity of some of the action cues.  The lengthy, early cue “The Killer’s Arrive” introduces the key action themes up front, before impressively segueing into the waltz.

The original soundtrack album produced at the time of the film’s release featured a 20 minute suite of the highlights from the score, edited into a single cue plus two shorter (relatively speaking) score cues that run another 15 minutes or so combined.   The album also included the song “We’re Home Again” performed by Elaine Page and written by Goldsmith with lyricist Hal Shaper.  While not complete or in film order, the album arrangements are a nice selection of music from the film, although the omitted portions do include some of the strongest action-oriented cues.  The original album also put a bit more emphasis on the waltz, placing it more front-and-center than it really was in the complete score.

In 2008, Intrada released a 2-CD limited edition (5,000 copies) containing the complete score in film order on disc 1 and the original soundtrack album tracks plus some source music and demo tracks on disc 2.  This release is no longer available from Intrada, but copies can generally be found in the $30-$40 range.  Intrada’s release really is a best-of-both-worlds release by including both the complete score and the album arrangements.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Wojciech Kilar, 1992): Francis Ford Coppola’s very stylish and very strange version of the Dracula story was one of those films that pretty heavily divided audiences.  I generally found it to be an interesting and absorbing film and I felt that Wojciech Kilar’s classically gothic score played a big role in helping to establish the film’s distinctive mood.

The score has a fairly old-fashioned, highly thematic sound.  The music is extremely atmospheric and really cranks up the tension with themes that heavily emphasize percussion, low brass, choral elements, and extremely active strings.  Kilar establishes the score’s most significant theme during the soundtrack’s second cue, entitled “Vampire Hunters”.  This theme features a simple repeating melody, played over the top of a progressive beat of brass and percussion.

A substantial portion of the soundtrack consists of action cues that tend to emphasize the building of tension over pure adrenaline-pumping themes.  Choral elements are frequently used in cues such as “The Storm” and “The Hunt Builds”, with lots of low-register brass and fairly relentless percussion.  The action cues are very dark, but constantly interesting and engaging.

Kilar also provides some quieter, more romantic melodies, primarily serving as themes for the major female characters.  The theme for the character of Mina is a primarily string melody that is first introduced during “Mina’s Photo” and more fully developed in “Love Remembered”, while the cue “Lucy’s Party” introduces a gentle, but vaguely ominous minor-key piano melody.  “The Brides” presents a more intense, violin-driven melody.

The one cue that seems pretty out of place on the soundtrack is “The Ring of Fire”, which seems to be made up more of sound effects from the film’s finale than actual musical material.  It does have a dissonant, rhythmic, mostly percussion musical element, but it still seems pretty out of place in the otherwise mostly melodic album.

The soundtrack album ends with a song entitled “Love Song for a Vampire” that is performed by Annie Lennox.  The melody is based on Mina’s theme.  The musical accompaniment is mostly electronic rather than orchestral, making it a bit of an odd fit with the rest of the album.

The Bravados (Alfred Newman, Hugo Friedhofer, 1958): This western featured a collaboration between two of the top golden age composers.  The resultant score is a blend of the two composers’ distinct, but still mostly compatible, styles.  Film Score monthly released an impressively complete soundtrack CD as part of their Golden Age Classics series.

The soundtrack opens with an exciting, brassy march that was composed by Newman, which gets the score off to a very rousing start and is further developed nicely in “The Posse Rides”.  Newman also contributes some of the film’s more romantic and contemplative melodies, including a fairly reverent theme heard in the cue “A Mother’s Prayer” and a romantic theme with some very impressive work for strings in the cue “The Dead Miner and Emma/Josefa”.

Friedhofer’s contributions are primarily the more dark and brooding aspect of the score.   His themes tend to have more of an emphasis on lower brass and strings, providing the score with some more tense passages such as in cues like “Jailbreak” and “Parral’s Ambush”.  I will say that I’ve never been a huge fan of Friedhofer’s style and this score kind of drives that home.  While I’m sure his compositions were appropriate to the darker parts of the film, I definitely prefer the Newman themes.

The program on the CD is in 3 parts.  The first half hour or so is a fairly complete version of the score presented in stereo.  This is followed by about 13 minutes of source cues.  The album ends with a little under 20 minutes of the score presented in its original monaural mix.

The Brave Little Toaster (David Newman, 1986): This film was an independently-produced animated feature that primarily played on television and home video here in the US after a few showings at film festivals.  David Newman scored the film, which also contains a few songs composed by Van Dyke Parks.

Percepto Records released a limited edition soundtrack CD for the film, but it is a pretty mixed bag.  The score on the album is complete, but it is covered with dialog and sound effects on quite a few tracks.  Newman provides an impressively melodic and fully orchestral score, but so much of the music is overwhelmed on the album that it is difficult to get a solid feel for the flavor of this score.

Still, there is some very good music on the disc and the passages that play uninterrupted are sometimes pretty impressive.  The film’s primary theme is introduced during a nicely presented “Main Title” cue and Newman has the opportunity to develop the themes pretty well during some of the lengthier cues such as “The Pond/Busby Berkley/The Meadow” (which has a lot of sound effects during the first part, but is mostly music-only after that) and the 7 minute “Finale” cue.

The songs are ok, but generally pretty forgettable.  I’m not exceptionally familiar with the movie (saw it once quite a while back), so perhaps the songs would connect with me more if I knew it better.  The most entertaining of the songs is the clever horror spoof “It’s a ‘B’ Movie”.

Backdraft (Hans Zimmer, 1991): I’m pretty sure that Backdraft was the first film in which I really noticed a Hans Zimmer score enough to purchase the soundtrack album.  Of course, Zimmer has become one of the most successful working composers in subsequent years, but his distinctive style was something of a fresh discovery back in 1991.

The score features Zimmer’s usual mix of orchestra and synthesizer, with a rock beat behind the main theme.  While this musical sound is now pretty ubiquitous, largely because of Zimmer and his protégées, it felt very new when this film first came out and I remember being very excited to get the soundtrack album.  While it isn’t nearly as distinctive today, the score still holds up as one of the best examples of this style of scoring. 

While there are some action-oriented portions to the score, especially during the cue “Burn It All”, the majority reflects more of a dramatic intensity.  Strings and synths dominate, with a pretty ever present percussion backing.  Occasional choral elements come into play as well, particularly during some of the more action-oriented sections.

The soundtrack CD opens and closes with the Bruce Hornsby songs “Set Me In Motion” and “The Show Goes On”.  Hornsby has a very recognizable style to his songs and both of these are easily recognizable as his.  Generally, I think they fit reasonably well with this score.

Bad Boys (Mark Mancina, 1995): This film was the first pairing of director Michael Bay and producer Jerry Bruckheimer and was essentially the first instance of the heavily rock-influenced instrumentals that film score enthusiasts often refer to simply as the “Bruckheimer sound”.  There is a lot of room for debate as to whether or not that should be considered a positive milestone.  The scores to Bruckheimer’s films from 1995 onward are most widely associated with Hans Zimmer and his influence is evident.  While Zimmer didn’t score the film, Mancina was employed by his company (at the time known as Media Ventures) and another Mancina protégé, Nick Glennie-Smith, also contributed to the score. 

Mancina was likely hired to score the film largely on the strength of his generally acclaimed score to Speed the year before and the similarities are obvious, particularly in the main theme.  The score is generally driven by synthesizer, keyboards, and electric guitar, with orchestral components generally given a backseat.  Acoustic guitar is occasionally used to score the film’s rare quieter moments, as in the cue “You’re Going to Leave Me Alone?”  The score also has some appealing reggae influences, first given significant play during the cue “JoJo, What You Know?”, and revisited periodically afterward.  Even the score’s main theme has a reggae influenced melody, which becomes more evident as the score continues on.  Fairly intense wordless vocals are also used periodically.

The soundtrack album released with the film was primarily a song album and only included one 4 minute score cue featuring an arrangement of Mancina’s main theme.   In 2007, La-La Land Records released a limited edition 70-minute CD of the complete score.  This edition is still available at their site and is currently priced at just $9.98.  It is very much worth getting at that price.

The Ballad of Cable Hogue (Jerry Goldsmith, 1970):  This Goldsmith score to a Sam Peckinpah western is very song oriented, with vocalist/songwriter Richard Gillis playing a very substantial role on the soundtrack.  The main theme is based on a Goldsmith-composed song entitled “Tomorrow Is the Song I Sing”, which Gillis performed and served as lyricist. 

Gillis himself wrote two other songs that are performed in full on the soundtrack (including the end credits cue) and occasionally incorporated into the score.  His involvement is sufficient that he probably could be considered a co-composer on the film.  One of Gillis’ songs is entitled “Butterfly Mornin’” and is performed by Jason Robards and Stella Stevens on the soundtrack.  Likely due to the available source elements, some sound effects are heard during the song.

The instrumental score is a pretty traditional western score, complete with harmonica, banjo, harp, and even organ, although portions are much more orchestral.  The score is very lively and often melodic.  The western style is very prominent in cues such as “Hasty Exit”, while the more melodic, orchestral side is well represented in “A Soothing Hand”.  The cue entitled “The Rattlesnakes” is a good example of one that blends the two aspects very well, eventually also introducing some sound effects to represent the titular creatures.

The fairly short (37 minutes) soundtrack CD was released as a limited edition by the Varese Sarabande CD Club.  It is sold out now and very difficult, and typically very expensive, to find now.  The one copy currently being offered by a seller on Amazon.com is priced at $189.

The Ballad of Lucy Whipple (Bruce Broughton, 2001): In the 1980s, it looked like Bruce Broughton was going to be one of the industry’s top film composers but, almost inexplicably, he has instead somehow ended up almost exclusively scoring TV or direct-to-video movies and the occasional theme park attractions.  He hasn’t scored a major theatrical release since 1998’s film version of Lost In Space.  His TV projects have often been pretty prominent ones and, thanks to a close working relationship with Intrada, a surprising large percentage of his TV scores have still generated soundtrack releases.

The Ballad of Lucy Whipple was a CBS western starring Glenn Close.  Broughton provided a pretty traditional western sound for the score, although on a fairly small scale.  The ensemble that performed the score is pretty small and only features instruments that would have existed during the period when the film was set.  These include fiddle, cello, acoustic guitar, tin whistle and period horns and percussion.  The result is a mostly intimate sounding score, although Broughton does occasionally manage to wring a fairly big sound out of the small ensemble, such as in the action music contained in the cue “Jake’s No Buck”.

Those expecting a big-scale western score like Broughton famously provided for Silverado and Tombstone are apt to be disappointed by the much smaller scale of this one.  The music is very good, though, and a nice demonstration of Broughton’s skill for melody.

Bambi (Edward Plumb, Frank Churchill, Larry Morey, 1942): Bambi generally set a new high water mark for the level of the drama in a Disney animated film, particularly with the famous and extremely moving death scene for the title character’s mother.  The excellent soundtrack CD put out by Walt Disney Records very effectively conveys the charming and often dramatically rich music for the film.

The score by Edward Plumb emphasizes woodwind and string melodies that pretty effectively reflect the rustic, wildlife settings of the film.  The musical mood shifts effortlessly from playful to romantic to dramatic intensity as needed.  The score introduces some brass for the fairly majestic “Gallop of the Stags/The Great Prince of the Forest/Man” with choir joining in to emphasize the title character’s royal lineage and finally giving way to some harsher strings and brass during the last minute or so of the cue to introduce a touch of menace.  I emphasize that particular cue as it represents a bit of a turning point where the music shifts from the more playful tones of the title character’s early childhood towards a more dramatic scoring eventually culminating in the very dark “Man Returns”.

The songs by Frank Churchill and Larry Morey are all performed by choir and blend extremely well with the score to give the film a distinctive musical character.  “Love Is a Song” plays over the film’s opening titles and nicely establishes the musical style for the film.  “Little April Showers” is the most creative and interesting song from the film.  It very convincingly evokes a rain storm musically, including bringing to mind the raindrops via individual notes presented at varying tempos as well as using percussion to represent thunder.  “Let’s Sing a Gay Little Spring Song” captures the optimistic mood of the season while “I Bring You a Song” is a nice romantic ballad.  The CD also includes “Rain Drops”, a demo recording of an alternate song to “Little April Showers”.

Bambi II (Bruce Broughton, 2006): In the late 90s and the 2000s, Disney released a whole series of direct-to-video sequels to their classic films.  These generally were of very questionable artistic merit and didn’t come close to equaling the quality of the originals, but they did sometimes involve some decent talent.  Bambi II featured a score by Bruce Broughton.

The soundtrack CD released by Walt Disney Records only contains about 10 minutes of Broughton’s score.  It is unfortunate that there isn’t more of it there, but it is a bit of an unusual treat that any of the score was made available at all.  The rest of the CD includes a few pop songs that were used in the movie and, oddly, the songs from the original Bambi, which probably were added mainly to fill up a disc.  The new songs from the movie are fairly generic light pop songs from Alison Krauss, Michelle Lewis, Martina McBride, and Anthony Callea.  None are particularly bad, but none are particularly memorable either.

Broughton’s score is, not surprisingly, inspired by the music from the original film.  He incorporates “Love is a Song” at several points in the score and the rest is stylistically in line with Edward Plumb’s compositions.  Woodwinds and strings dominate again, although Broughton definitely uses brass a lot more frequently, often in a less menacing manner.  The cue “Being Brave (Part 2)” is a particularly lively, brassy cue.  The relatively short length of the score on the soundtrack makes it a bit hard to tell the degree to which Broughton develops themes, although there is a central melody to the cue “Bambi and the Great Prince” that sounds like a primary theme for the title character.

Bandolero! (Jerry Goldsmith, 1968): Goldsmith’s score to this western is especially colorful.  It features a full orchestra, but supplemented by a wide variety of less common instruments.  Among those used include harmonica, banjo, xylophone, wood blocks, castanets, marimbas, guitar (both acoustic and electric), and even a whistler. 

The score is built around a fairly simple, but infectious, main theme that is played on many different instruments throughout the score.  The album’s first cue, called “The Saloon”, instantly establishes the unusual style of the score by introducing the main theme in a version that sounds like a saloon piano.  Over the main title, the theme is initially presented by a solo whistler.  In addition to the variations of the main theme, Goldsmith introduces one strong secondary theme for the film’s female lead.  This gets an especially strong statement in the cue “Dee’s Proposal” and figures in other parts of the score as well.  There is also some good action and suspense material peppered throughout the score as well.

I have the expanded, limited edition version of the soundtrack that was released by Intrada in 2004.  Unfortunately, this release is long out of print and now very difficult (and expensive) to obtain.  This edition includes the complete score (about 44 minutes), plus about 3 minutes of early demo versions of both main themes.  The CD ends with the original 1968 soundtrack album program, which runs another 30 minutes.  The original album is an interesting inclusion on this one as the mixes are pretty dramatically different.  Many of the unusual instruments were removed from the mix for some reason.  It is an interesting alternate take to the score.

With it being 6 years since the series ended (and 10 years since the last feature film), Carter and his co-writer Frank Spotnitz (also a regular contributor to the series), wisely decided to go with a story that very easily stands on its own without substantially involving the complex, and sometimes kind of convoluted, conspiracy mythology that ended up generally dominating the later seasons of the series. The result actually has more of the look and feel of an episode from one of the earliest seasons, back when the main focus was on stand-alone plots about a crime with, often somewhat ambiguous, supernatural overtones. While I did enjoy the conspiracy aspects of the series, if nothing else for its pure complexity, I tended to prefer the more standalone episodes. Because of that, this movie largely fit with what I generally liked best about the series. I can understand pretty easily, though, why this film could feel disappointing to fans that preferred the conspiracy stories or who were hoping for a feature film that had grander ambitions.

It has been pretty widely reported that 20th Century Fox would only green-light another "X-Files" feature if Carter agreed to keep it to a very low-budget. Reportedly, the film ended up costing around $30 million, which is amazingly low for a major studio feature today, particularly one built around a known franchise. Fortunately, they came up with a story that fit the budget instead of trying to cut corners. The film is very dialog-driven and does not feature large special effects sequences or big set pieces. The film builds a fair amount of tension, and is even downright scary at times, and that is largely accomplished via fairly old-fashioned filmmaking techniques, including frequently relying on the viewer’s imagination to fill in what isn’t shown directly.  Score composer Mark Snow (who also scored the entire TV series and the previous film) again contributes greatly to the tension and overall mood of the film.

The scale of the film is small enough that I could see a pretty good argument being made that perhaps they should have done this as a TV movie instead of a theatrical release. They did largely ignore the conventional wisdom that a feature film requires a story that is much grander and larger in scope than the typical TV episodes. The longer running time of the film does provide room for more story development at a more leisurely pace. I suspect that will may find the film a bit slow as it doesn’t have the rapid cutting and frequent action sequences that are typical of most summer thrillers. The pacing of this film is actually quite a bit slower even in comparison to the first "X-Files" film.  The film does also benefit from some effective use of the full wide-screen frame, particularly during a few key sequences set in snow-covered fields as well as during one very well-shot foot chase.  I also think that the somewhat complex and dialog-driven nature of the movie was well served from the generally stronger focus given to a movie in a theater than with the usual distractions of a TV viewing.

A lot of effort was made to keep the plot of the film mostly under wraps. Having seen the film, I suspect that was done largely to mask the pretty low-key nature of the story, which doesn’t really try to expand the series mythology. The primary mystery involves a series of missing person cases that end up being connected to body-part (including the head) transplant experiments being done by a Russian doctor in an attempt to save the life of his gay lover (seriously…) Obviously, this is more than a little bit silly and the full details of what exactly they were doing isn’t even entirely clear by the end of the movie. This is obviously the film’s biggest weakness, but it actually isn’t as big a deal as it may seem. Even with the plot being somewhat nonsensical, it is depicted in such a way that a fairly strong tension is maintained and these weaknesses weren’t really strongly evident until I started thinking this through more after leaving the theater.  Most significantly, the details of the mystery are really a very secondary aspect of the film, which is much more focused on various moral decisions faced by the characters.

Very central to the film is an excellent performance by Billy Connolly (an under-appreciated character actor) as Father Joe, a priest who had been convicted of child molestation, but was now claiming to be experiencing psychic visions related to the missing persons case.  What I found exceptionally effective about this aspect of the film is that they wisely maintained a great deal of ambiguity about whether the psychic visions were genuine or if they were being faked either in an attempt to obtain some level of forgiveness or because Father Joe was a co-conspirator in the crimes.  Even at the end of the film, compelling evidence remained for each of these possibilities.  Some of the best episodes of the TV series left similar ambiguity about whether or not the supernatural elements of the story were true or not, although there seemed to be less of that during the later seasons.  I was pleased that the film took that approach.

Seeing Duchovny and Anderson back in the roles of Mulder and Scully felt a lot like visiting old friends, although with the natural progressions in life experience that are likely to be evident from a lengthy separation.  Although the series ended 6 years ago, the characterizations had kind of gone off the rails during the last couple seasons, to a large degree due to Duchovny significantly limiting his appearances during the second to last season and then only appearing in the series finale during the final season.  The series ended with Mulder a fugitive and both characters in hiding, something that the film didn’t ignore but also wisely dispensed with very quickly by having the FBI offer Mulder a complete dismissal of the charges (which had been faked anyway) in exchange for his help on this new case.  I appreciated that they didn’t just try to pretend the events at the end of the series hadn’t happened, but that they also didn’t dwell on it much, particularly since the film really needed to be accessible to newcomers and to the many fans that gave up on the show during those final seasons.

The other big development towards the end of the season was the transition of the Mulder/Scully relationship from a plutonic partnership to a romantic one.  This was continued in the film, with the characters depicted as now living together.  With this, I still felt that they found exactly the right tone for the relationship, basically showing it as a natural progression of the intimate professional connection that developed over most of the series.  The romance isn’t portrayed as overly passionate or at all mushy, but instead as a mixture of pretty much unwavering trust and a strong dependence on one another.  The romance is threatened (including a tentative break-up) over the course of the movie, but in a very believable and logical situation as Scully struggles with the potential of being pulled back into "the darkness" (as she describes it) as Mulder returns to the type of investigative work that she thought they had escaped.

The use of "I Want To Believe" as the film’s sub-title was a very eaappropriate one.  The phrase already had meaning to the fans as the slogan on a poster that was prominently displayed on the wall of Mulder’s office at the FBI (in this film, it was on the wall in a very similarly decorated home office), but it was also very much a running theme throughout the film.  The most obvious example was that Mulder wanted to believe that Father Joe was genuine, both as a validation of his life-long focus on the supernatural as well as out of a genuine hope of reaching a successful conclusion to the missing person case, particularly since the visions were giving hope that the victim might still be alive.  I did like that there was a running theme that Mulder was particularly determined to succeed because of his continued pain over his sister’s childhood abduction, another key element that carried over from the series. 

Scully’s actions in the film were also motivated  by a key event from the TV series, specifically the child that she gave up during the final season.  She showed a particularly strong revulsion to Father Joe’s past crimes and, thus, a very low willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt.  The film features a fairly substantial B-plot involving Scully, who had started practicing medicine full-time at a hospital (even in the series, she was a medical doctor) and was debating a radical treatment option for a child with a usually-terminal illness.  I’ve seen some complaints that this subplot was fairly superfluous, and the connections to the main storyline are very slight, but it really did play heavily into the overall theme of seeking the strength to choose belief over skepticism.  I particularly liked that Father Joe at one point planted the idea in her mind that she should go forward with the difficult treatment for her patient, despite her hesitance to believe him and uncertainty if that was even what he was talking about.  Finally, I thought that it was another interesting and effective choice to ultimately leave this subplot unresolved instead of explicitly telling if the treatment was successful or even fully completed.

Father Joe’s character very strongly fit into this theme of belief, both in his impact on Mulder and Scully (as described above) as well as on his own.  Although the authenticity of his visions is never fully determined, there is an overall theme that he still has hope that redemption, at least in the eyes of God, are still possible.  There is a significant religious theme throughout the film, obviously with Father Joe’s religious affiliation, but also with Scully working in a Catholic hospital and facing opposition from a well-meaning, but skeptical, priest as she pursues treatment for her patient.  Of course, the hope of retaining religious faith is certainly another possible interpretation of the film’s title.

The movie did have a couple other significant supporting performances.  Amanda Peet is quite good as one of the lead FBI agents on the case and the one responsible for bringing Mulder and Scully into it.  It was an effective choice making her character a skeptic who didn’t really believe Father Joe, but also an agent so thorough that she didn’t want to leave any possible angle unexplored.  The character’s death about 2/3 of the way into the film was a genuine surprise and added quite a bit to the overall tension.

Other than Duchovny and Anderson, the one other actor from the series that returned in the film was Mitch Pileggi as Assistant Director Skinner, Mulder and Scully’s boss in the TV series.  He wasn’t in the published cast listing for the film and his appearance in it was largely kept a secret, all the way to the point of Pileggi doing an interview or two where he complained about not being included.  His arrival very late in the film to play a key role in the climax was very welcome and extremely well received by the audience at the showing I attended.

Probably due to a combination of the time that has past since the series ended as well as the heavy competition from the bigger-than-expected success of The Dark Knight, the opening weekend for the movie is being reported as only around $10 million, which is something of a disappointment.  This could represent the end of the franchise, although with the film’s low budget it could still end up being profitable enough that Fox might consider another, particularly if the film gets a wider audience on video.  If this does turn out to be the end, I’m still glad to have had the chance to visit Mulder and Scully one last time.  I also really appreciate that Carter decided to include a final shot at the end of the credits of Mulder and Scully waving to the camera from a row-boat near some tropical island, which served both as a goodbye to the fans as well as a suggestion that just maybe they managed to find some peace and a happy ending.

I do see a distinction between a list of "favorites" and "best" when discussing works of art or entertainment and this list is going to be favorites.  What that means is that the order is based more on how much I enjoy the movies and am apt to return to them.  Essentially, this is based more on the "fun" factor than on the full collection of merits.  Finally, the rankings can’t help but be a bit arbitrary and I openly admit that the order could easily change, especially based on how recently I’ve seen each movie.

1. Monsters, Inc.  - Of all the Pixar films, this is the one that I am most apt to stop and watch if I come across it airing on TV or cable.  The film succeeds due to great casting, humor that hits the mark with an amazing consistency, truly exciting action sequences, and a story that takes place in a fully-realized and unique world of its own.  Finally, the closing shot of this movie is right up there towards the top of the list of the all time best endings.  While all of this is in service of a somewhat conventional buddy-movie plot, the whole package simply works.

2. Toy Story 2 – Pixar’s only sequel to date brilliantly expanded on the great characters and concept of the company’s first feature to create a more fully-realized film.  The movie is uproariously funny (it has the most out-loud laughs of any Pixar film) and it also quite touching at times.  The new characters created for the sequel (Jessie, Stinky Pete, and Bullseye) are not extraneous in any way, instead greatly expanding the overall storytelling.  The movie also contains the single best musical sequence of any Pixar film with the highly moving "When She Loved Me". This is a very rare case of a sequel that surpassed the original, largely through the careful application of the experience that the Pixar artists had gained with their first two films.

3. Wall-E – If I were putting together a "best" list instead of a "favorites" list, I’m pretty sure this would top it.   Pixar’s newest film is also their most bold an most creative.  I’ve seen some online debate about whether the film (especially the first 20 minutes or so) is mainly charming and funny or if it is mostly dark and sad.  The brilliance of the film is that it is all of those.  They were able to take a fairly downbeat scenario and present it in a way that is both palatable and, ultimately, even optimistic.  Much of this is accomplished thanks to the title character being Pixar’s most instantly endearing and sympathetic creation to date.  The film’s use of visual storytelling and incredibly detailed sound effects design gives it an exhilaratingly unconventional feel.  I can see the possibility that this one could move up on my favorites list as well with additional viewing and the passage of time.

4. Ratatouille – This one has the sharpest writing and most sophisticated story of all of the Pixar films to date.  While all of Pixar’s films have appealed to a fairly broad age range, this one does seem to skew a bit older than their other films, probably because the appreciation for fine food that is at the heart of the story really has to come with age and experience.  The film does still contain its fair share of visual gags and punch-lines, but it also contains a great deal of wit and character-driven humor.  This one would likely be a close 2nd on my "best" list.

5. Toy Story – Pixar’s first film was a milestone not just because it was the first CGI-animated feature, but also because it still would have been an exceptionally good film even if it hadn’t been the first of its kind.  In this way, it largely echoed Walt Disney’s accomplishment with "Snow White" many years before.  While the technology of the film was obviously an accomplishment, the filmmakers realized that it was every bit as important to focus on providing top-notch stories and characters.  With a clever concept and a well-chosen celebrity cast voicing memorable characters (Woody and Buzz Lightyear are now pretty much cultural icons), the end result was a film that succeeded as way more than just a technical novelty.  While it has been eclipsed in many ways by some of the later Pixar films (including its own sequel), this is a film that is pretty much ensured to remain a classic work.

6. The Incredibles – Brad Bird’s first effort after joining Pixar provided a welcome change of pace at a time when their films were just starting to feel a bit formulaic.  Of all of Pixar’s films, this is the one that most seems like pretty much the same film could have been made as live-action (probably with a huge special effects budget), but I felt that actually helped to demonstrate the flexibility of the medium.  The film itself is a lot of fun and includes some very clever action sequences.  I don’t think the characters are quite as memorable as in most of the other Pixar films, although that is alleviated by a somewhat larger, more ensemble cast as well.

7. Cars - I think this is probably the most formulaic of the Pixar films to date (the plot is essentially identical to the 90s Michael J. Fox movie "Doc Hollywood"), but it is redeemed quite a bit by setting the story in an exceptionally well-defined, internally-consistent, and generally interesting alternate reality.  I also admit to a certain affection towards this film because it is the one Pixar film that my 4-year-old son has pretty fully taken to, both the film itself (which he has seen quite a few times on DVD) and the merchandise.  As an adult male, it is not at all hard for me to understand, and even somewhat share, the fondness that a young boy is apt to have for an entire world of cars.

8. A Bug’s Life – It is hard not to see a bit of a sophomore slump in Pixar’s second film.  The movie is absolutely beautiful visually and it has some appealing characters, but the whole endeavor just isn’t exceptionally memorable.  I don’t think it was helped by its release being in such close proximity to Dreamworks’ similarly-themed "Antz", another good but not overly memorable film.  I can’t help getting the two movies a bit jumbled in my mind, often having a hard time remembering what scenes or characters actually go with which movie.  The movie is still a lot of fun, though, and on occasions when I’ve re-watched it I have found myself thinking that it is better than I remembered it.

9. Finding Nemo – Yes, I am ranking Pixar’s most financially successful film to date as my least favorite.  To be clear, I like the film overall and can even see its appeal, but this is the only one of Pixar’s movies that I think is over-long and even tends to drag at times.  As is typical for them, the film is an absolute treat visually, creating an underwater world that is both beautiful and convincing.  The characters are memorable and well-defined, even more so than in some of the other films that I rank higher on this list.  In fact, my son knows and likes the characters (and merchandise…) very much, despite the fact that he has shown very little interest in the movie itself.   I feel like putting this one in last place on my list drives home for me how much this really is an exercising in ranking a group where all the members are top-notch.  Even though it is last here, I certainly would never want anyone to think that it is even remotely a bad movie.

I honestly can’t remember being this conflicted about a movie recently.  I can definitely say that I enjoyed the movie and that I even am interested in seeing it again.  At the same time, I’m initially did not feel inclined to say it really was a good movie.  That is part of the reason why I didn’t get around to writing this until about 2 weeks after seeing the film.  In fact, I’ve even gone back and revised this opening paragraph to be a bit more upbeat after realizing that the rest of my review is a lot more positive than I really expected it to be.

Right after seeing the movie, my first instinct was to tell various family and friends that this was the best movie I had ever seen that was made from a really bad script.  As I’ve thought about it more, I even think the script was generally pretty good as I recall a lot of snappy and amusing dialog, some good character moments, and well-chosen action sequences.  I think the real problem with the film is that the underlying story is very poorly conceived.  I really do think that this may be the best example I’ve ever seen of a very talented group of filmmakers and actors making the very best of some pretty bad underlying material.

I’ve seen a lot of comments about how much mileage this movie was able to get out of nostalgia for the character and the earlier films, but I think that wouldn’t really go very far if there weren’t an awful lot that is right with the movie.  First and foremost, it still looks and feels like an Indiana Jones movie.  Although he played the character as noticeably older, and perhaps a tad wiser, Harrison Ford seemed to pretty effortlessly slip back into the role.  I actually hope that other filmmakers will note his performance here and recognize that he is clearly still very capable of playing action heroes.  I think he is an actor that has mostly been misused for the past few years.

It was great seeing Karen Allen’s return as Marion Ravenwood, even if she really didn’t have all that much to do in the film.  The interplay between her and Indy was pretty much on the mark, really.  It was very reminiscent of their relationship in the original film, but with some additional history.  While it has been somewhat controversial, I was really happy with the decision to end the film with Indy and Marion’s wedding.  I felt it was a good reflection of the maturity that both characters have achieved with age.  I also thought it provided some appropriate closure to a series that I suspect probably really is finished, in spite of the various rumors to the contrary.

I do think that Shia LaBeouf was appealing and well cast as Indy and Marion’s son, Mutt, but I can’t really say that I thought the character came close to being distinctive enough to carry a film on his own as has been rumored.  With that in mind, and considering how long it took to get Spielberg and Ford’s schedules to coincide (along with that of George Lucas) and all of them to agree on a script, I just don’t see too much of a chance of another film.  I could be wrong about this (and almost hope that I am), but this really does seem like one final nostalgic return rather than the re-start of the series.

For the nostalgia factor, I was really happy to see the brief tributes to Marcus Brody (and, consequently, the late Denholm Elliot) as well as to Indy’s father.  It was disappointing that they weren’t able to coax Sean Connery out of retirement for at least a brief cameo, but I was glad that they still found a couple very effective ways of acknowledging the character, particularly in the context of the new father/son relationship between Indy and Mutt.  As for Marcus, I greatly enjoyed his sort of bumbling comic relief in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and, thus, thought it was absolutely perfect to end a chase sequence by having the bad guys run into his statue, causing the head to go through their windshield.  That felt to me like a very sharp, highly in-character tribute.

The overall look, pacing, and rhythm of the film also seem right.  While Steven Spielberg has really matured a lot as a filmmaker over the last 20 years, I think it is great that he still likes to periodically go back to the type of popcorn-movie that generally launched his career.  If he had been making nothing but films like Schindler’s List and Munich in the years since the last Indiana Jones film, I’m not sure if he could have slipped back into this series effectively.  I’m glad he still does occasional projects like the Jurassic Park films, War of the Worlds, and this one.

Some have complained that the now-standard use of CGI animation does give some of the special effects work in this film a less realistic appearance than in the earlier films, but I honestly didn’t really notice it much.  I really wouldn’t say that the special effects work in the series ever really fit the definition of "realistic", regardless of the technique used.  The effects may look a bit different this time, but I can honestly say that it wasn’t something that crossed my mind while watching the film.

I thought the action sequences and chases were very well-staged and, just like in the previous films, lots of fun.  Yes, several of the sequences were completely absurd, but that is not only what I expect from this series, but a large part of its charm.  I’ve been a tad surprised to see other reviews that have criticized sequences like Mutt’s Tarzan swing through the jungle or Indy surviving a nuclear blast in a lead refrigerator.  Sure, both sequences were insanely over-the-top and kind of silly, but they also both put a huge grin on my face.  I really think this kind of pretty much fearless over-the-top action is a big part of the charm of these films.

I’ve now talked a lot about what was right with the film.  As I stated at the top of the review, my overall reaction to the film was pretty mixed mainly due to pretty serious story issues.  To put it simply, I think the plot is just plain too complicated.  The Indiana Jones films have pretty much provided classic examples of Alfred Hitchcock’s concept of a MacGuffin, the term he used to refer to the object that everyone in the film wants to find, steal, protect, or destroy.  What that object is or does really shouldn’t matter at all or occupy much time or attention in the film.

In the previous films, the MacGuffin could be explained in just a few words, thus requiring very little of the running time for exposition and allowing the films to maintain a previously almost unprecedented pacing.  In both Raiders of the Lost Ark and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Indy was seeking Biblical objects that were already well-known to most people in the audience.  Even those that didn’t already know about the Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail could pretty quickly get the point when told that the ark was the box that held the tablets containing the 10 commandments and that the grail was the cup used by Christ at the last supper.  The ark’s "power to level mountains" and the grail’s ability to grant endless life could also be explained quickly and easily.  While the Sankara Stones that were sought in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom were not a well-known artifact, the film pretty much skipped any serious explanation other than that one of the stones brought good luck to a village and that all of them would bring great power when brought together.

In the new film, the crystal skull of the title is essentially a MacGuffin once again, but this time they have given it a much too complicated back-story.  To be honest, I’m not even sure I even entirely understood it by the time the film was over.  As best as I can tell, the skulls belonged to alien visitors (I think inter-dimensional instead of from outer space) who were, apparently, the gods that were worshiped by the ancient Aztecs, who built their lost city of gold as a tribute.  When brought together at the temple in the lost city, they apparently opened some sort of a doorway while also imparting psychic abilities or some sort of eternal knowledge to anyone who was looking into their eyes.  It also, for some reason, triggered a launch of a flying saucer that either was traveling to space or to another dimension or something.  Anyway, I think that not entirely-successful attempt at a description kind of illustrates the problem here. 

The major impact of the over-complicated plot is that this film pretty much slows to a halt multiple times as it makes not-entirely successful attempts at explaining what was going on.  Prior to this film, slow spots in an Indiana Jones movie almost seemed unthinkable.   A big part of the problem is that even Indy’s motivations and role in the whole adventure become somewhat murky by the end of the movie, particularly after a scene where Indy briefly is forced to stare at the skull and then starts claiming that some of his activities are what it told him to do.  In the past films, the characterization was really a pretty simple mix of a desire for "fortune and glory" and a somewhat overdeveloped sense of altruism, again providing an easy framework for action sequences fueled by dogged determination. 

The problem with the story also impacted the effectiveness of some of the supporting characters.  Cate Blanchett’s villain was particularly hurt by confusing characterization and motivations.  I didn’t mind so much that her desire to find the skull was more based on personal ambition than loyalty to her Soviet leaders as that was a tradition that was pretty much established in the first film with Belloq, who remains the best of the series’ villains.  The bigger problem is that it really was hard to figure out what those motivations actually were.  We were given some indications that she had psychic abilities (or at least thought she did), but that didn’t really amount to much until the confusing climax.  I guess she was ultimately seeking knowledge, but that aspect of her personality almost seemed to come out of nowhere at the end of the film.  It certainly didn’t help much that Blanchett’s performance was a bit too cartoonish, with a pretty uncomfortable resemblance to Natasha from the old Bullwinkle cartoons…

Another weak link was John Hurt’s role as one of Indy’s old colleagues who had initially discovered the skull.  By the time the film catches up with the character, he had apparently gone mad as a result of staring too long at the skull, but it is never entirely clear why that is or why he suddenly returns to normal at the film’s climax.  The character is generally inscrutable to the point of being fairly irritating.  I think the film would have been better off either eliminating the character entirely or having him remain missing (leaving clues) until the finale.

I will say that my initial reaction to hearing that the film involved aliens was generally not very positive, but I now don’t really think that was a bad idea.  Necessarily, the film shifted the setting from the 1930s to the 1950s and a storyline involving aliens fits in pretty well with the types of serial adventure films from that time period.  I think the big mistake was that they way overdeveloped the idea.  Had the story involved a very straightforward and simple artifact that just happened to be alien in origin (instead of religious like in the other films), I think it would have worked just fine.  The error was in seriously trying to over-explain the whole thing.  We have long heard that Spielberg, Lucas, and Ford wanted to do another film, but it was long delayed by trying to get the right story and script.  In a lot of ways, the end result really seems like the work of too many screenwriters severely over-thinking what needed to be nothing more than a lightweight framework for lots of action and adventure.

Despite these huge misgivings about the story, the good really does outweigh the bad here.  As I said at the beginning, I have felt very conflicted about the movie and I think this review probably reflects that.  Looking back at what I wrote, the first half reads a lot like a rave review and the second half reads like a pan.  I think that does basically reflect the two sides to the movie itself, but what is good is so good that I would have hated to miss it.  For me, I think it boils down to being glad that we got one more Indiana Jones film after all these years while also feeling like it was something of a missed opportunity. 

Pretty much like the other two films in the series, I thought “At Worlds End” was kind of overblown and out-of-control, but also very entertaining. I suppose I probably could best be classified as a “casual” fan of this series (I’ve only seen each of the films once), but I can certainly understand their immense popularity and I certainly can honestly say that I found all three to be wildly enjoyable escapism.

One of the first things that struck me about “At Worlds End” was that I basically agreed with the early reports that I saw that the film was too long, but not for reasons that I would generally expect to object to the length of a film. I definitely was never bored by the film and didn’t find very much of the film to be slow or drawn out. The film maintains a fast enough pace and such a high level of excitement that it really doesn’t feel like a nearly 3-hour film.

The reason why I still say that the film is overlong, is that I felt that the storytelling could have definitely used some tightening. The movie does have a bit of a tendency to repeat itself at times (key example: Jack talking with his dopplegangers was amusing once, but shouldn’t have been repeated later in the film) while, at other times, going off on occasional non-productive tangents that had a tendency to obscure the storyline. I even thought that there was one entire subplot (Calypso) that should have been excised from the film entirely as it never really resulted in much of a pay off.

I’ve also seen a lot of commentary about the complexity of the film, but this was something I actually kind of appreciated. All too often, mainstream blockbusters tend to have overly simplistic stories and I admit I find it kind of refreshing that this series really does ask you to pay attention. Much of the complexity comes from a rather large cast of characters, all of whom tend to be pursuing their own agendas and interests at any given time. That strikes me as highly appropriate for a film that is centered around the idea that all the major characters are pirates of one form or another. One of my favorite scenes in the film was the Pirates Council sequence, where we learn that they had never been able to elect a pirate king simply because it always ended up being a 9-way tie with everyone voting for himself or herself. This struck me as being exactly how pirates (at least as they appear in our mythology) really should be.

Related to this, I also liked it that several of the key characters, including Will and Jack, were willing to ally themselves with the film’s primary villain when it seemed to best serve his purpose. Over the course of the film, just about every character betrays just about every other character at some point and, again, that felt absolutely right for a film about pirates. Even the romantic leads betray one another when it best served his/her own agenda and, within the world of piracy, that really wasn’t even that much of an impediment to their relationship.

One of the biggest strengths of these films continues to be an unusually strong cast. Of course, Johnny Depp gets the bulk of the attention for what is, unquestionably, one of the most truly original film characters to appear in a while. With this film, though, I have to say that I think his quirks are starting to wear a bit thin. He does still have some very funny moments in this film and Depp tends to be especially winning when showing the character’s heroic side, but I thought it was overall a good thing that the character has a bit less screen time than in the previous films and I’m not convinced that his part shouldn’t have been trimmed even a bit more.

Seeing this film did help me realize that the one element that was most missed in the first sequel was Geoffrey Rush’s consistently entertaining portrayal of Captain Barbosa. While Depp pretty much throws away all conventions to create a unique character, Rush largely takes the opposite approach and absolutely relishes in playing to all the stereotypes of what a pirate captain should be. Even more so than in the first film, Rush has pretty much become the captain from the sea battle sequence on the attraction, all the way down to rather frequent use of direct dialog from the ride.

I thought that the characters of Will and Elizabeth were put to much better use in this film than in the first sequel. Both have significant character growth this time as well as their share of really good scenes. Keira Knightley especially comes into her own in this film, giving her best performance yet in the series (although her striking resemblance to Natalie Portman is still a bit of a distraction, especially in one scene where she is dressed up in an Asian royal gown that really brought to mind the outfits she wore as Portman’s double in “The Phantom Menace”.) Orlando Bloom is still fine as Turner, although he continues to be a rather bland actor overall. I still am not sure that he has enough charisma to have much of a career as a romantic lead.

I was really very surprised by the resolution of Will and Elizabeth’s relationship at the end of the film, but I also found it to be rather bold and ultimately quite satisfying. Will really did seem to be the best choice to take over as captain of the Flying Dutchman and I thought it was very refreshing that they didn’t try to cop out with finding some easy resolution to the conflicts between his duty to save his father and the desire to stay with Elizabeth. As a committed credits watcher, I always tend to enjoy the inclusion of extras at the end of them, but I do feel it was something of a mistake to make the “10 years later” flash-forward a post-credits sequence in this one. I think that the information that Elizabeth not only remained true to Will but also bore his child is really pretty essential and should have ended the main part of the film. It is a shame that an awfully large percentage of the audience is going to end up not seeing such a key scene.

From a technical standpoint, this film continues the series overall excellence. The special effects and stunt-work are complex and pretty consistently convincing. Musically, I think this film has the strongest score of the series, although there are still a few points where the music sounds much too contemporary for the setting. I definitely think that composer Hans Zimmer should have avoided, or at least much more greatly minimized, the use of electronic instrumentation. Zimmer also composed a song that is used very effectively both as a plot point and as a key theme within the score itself.

It is definitely worth noting once again that this is a pretty violent and at times dark film that does earn the PG-13 rating. The opening sequence of the film where numerous pirates, including a child, are hanged without trial, sets a somewhat dark tone and probably almost earned the PG-13 by itself. I do think it has been a rather bold re-positioning of the brand to release this series under the Walt Disney Pictures label, but I’m still not sure it is all that inappropriate. The violence is generally not graphic and, in many ways, is reminiscent of the Indiana Jones films, which were very popular with late preteens and early-teens of my own generation. As I said at the beginning of this review, I probably classify as a “casual” fan of these films, but I suspect they would have been among my absolute favorites had they come out when I was in that age group.

While “At World’s End” is certainly a somewhat flawed film (as were its predecessors), I do think it was finally a very entertaining and satisfying conclusion to a fun trilogy of films.

Part of this success comes from the fact that the material actually originated on film with Brooks’ 1968 non-musical version. This path of film to stage to film results in an unusual case where the new film is both a faithful stage adaptation and, at times, almost a shot-by-shot remake of the earlier film. While “Little Shop of Horrors” followed a similar path nearly two decades ago, the variation was much greater as the stage production did not as closely follow the content of the original film, which was also not nearly as good as the original film version of “The Producers”. This film is nearly unprecedented in the way that it is able to directly mine elements from both previous incarnations. The result is an interesting and entertaining mix of the two, although I wouldn’t consider it a replacement for either the original classic movie or the more complete stage version of the musical.

Among the most important accomplishments of this film is that it is able to capture several key performances from the original Broadway cast of the show. As Max Bialystock, Nathan Lane gives his all in what is easily his most impressive film role to date. Lane was really a perfect choice for this role in that he has a similar on-screen personality to Zero Mostel, who originated the role in the earlier film, but he also has the talent to make the role his own rather than an imitation. His performance is similar enough to be a convincing variation on the character as established through Mostel’s performance, but he brings a manic energy and theatricality to the role that gives it some new dimension. Some reviewers have argued that the performance is over-the-top for a movie and that Lane should have dialed back his performance, but I really think this would have been a mistake. The performance absolutely is more broad and dynamic than we typically see in modern movies, but that is exactly how his character should be.

In the other lead role, Leo Bloom, Matthew Broderick also repeats the role that he originated in the Broadway production. Broderick is generally good in the role, but it isn’t as clear a fit. Broderick is playing somewhat against type as the repressed and neurotic Bloom and it is a bit of an effort to accept him in the role. This isn’t the type of character role where an actor can truly disappear into the character, which did make it a bit more difficult to adjust to Broderick’s version. Both Gene Wilder, who played the role in the original film, and Martin Short, who was in the Los Angeles stage production that I saw, seemed to be much more of a natural fit for the part. Broderick certainly isn’t bad, though. He is often quite funny and generally very likeable. His singing voice is also quite nice and well suited to the songs. Finally, Broderick and Lane have a definite on-screen chemistry that reflects their fairly extended collaboration, both in these roles and in other productions as well. It is definitely good to see that collaboration captured on film.

Besides the two leads, the other major actors to have made the transition from the Broadway cast to the film are Gary Beach and Roger Bart as director Roger DeBris and his “assistant” Carmen Ghia. While neither actor is overly familiar to movie audiences, bringing their performances to film was extremely wise as both completely inhabit their roles. Beach played the part in the Los Angeles stage production as well and I really have a hard time imagining anyone else being nearly as effective in the part. These characters represent the most significant character alterations from the original movie, particularly in the switch to have Beach end up playing the title role in “Springtime for Hitler”, the show within the show. This is a wise decision as Dick Shawn’s stereotypical hippie version of Hitler is the one aspect of the original film that really seems very dated now. The stage production and new film make DeBris and his crew into a group of flaming homosexuals, which eventually is reflected in the very fey stage Hitler. While both versions are something of an anachronism for the story’s 1950s setting and are also definitely pretty much off-the-chart stereotypes, Beach and Bart play the roles to the hilt and the result is quite hilarious.

The filmmakers did forgo the stage casting in favor of movie stars for the two remaining lead roles. Will Ferrell joins the cast as the neo-Nazi playwright Franz Liebkind while Uma Therman takes on the role of Ulla, the office secretary, lead actress, and ultimately love interest for Bloom. Ferrell fits into his role exceptionally well and is very funny throughout. He also handles the musical part quite well, showing that he could have some opportunities in musical theater going forward. I give him quite a bit of credit for stretching himself a bit by taking on a decidedly supporting role (which isn’t expanded for him) at this stage in his career.

Thurman seems to be having lot of fun in her role, which is significantly expanded compared to the original film, but pretty much intact from the stage production. She has a huge grin on her face pretty much throughout the film and I was left with a sense that aspect of the character probably wasn’t really acting. That overall attitude did help to win me over to her performance, despite the fact that her singing voice isn’t really strong enough for the part and there isn’t a lot of chemistry between her and Broderick. I do think that the film might have been better off had they kept the original Broadway performer (who also played the part in L.A.) for the film, but I can also understand the desire to bring bigger stars into the film and Thurman’s performance generally was fun to watch.

Clearly, the biggest difference between the stage and new screen versions of “The Producers” and the original film is the transition into a full musical. The original film, like many Mel Brooks movies, actually has some of the feeling of a musical, even including a couple musical sequences at key points. Because of this, the transition to a full musical feels pretty natural. The songs have a very old-fashioned feel to them, resulting in a movie that feels more like a musical out of the 1950s than a modern production. Just about every song is essentially played as a full, show-stopping production number without the more subtle, story-centric musical numbers that are common in most recent musicals. The approach is exactly right for this film, basically making the movie itself into exactly the type of show that Max would have been producing.

The new film does include two musical numbers that were used in the original film. One is “Haben Sie Gehurt Das Deutsche Band” which is a fairly minor song that Ferrell’s character uses to win the role of Hitler in the musical within the movie. The other carryover from the original is “Springtime for Hitler”, the relentlessly catchy and tasteless title song from the musical that Max and Leo choose for their surefire flop. As in the original film, they pretty much pull out the stops for this number. This film (like the stage musical) stages the number in a manner fairly similar to the original film, although with some obvious changes to Hitler due to the changes to the character of Roger DeBris. One key element to the original film’s staging of this number that couldn’t easily be duplicated on stage, but is restored in the new film, is the cutaways to the audience’s stunned reactions. This is a welcome restoration.

“We Can Do It!”, an early number featuring Max’s attempt to sell Leo on the plan provides a strong introduction to both characters. The staging is very similar to the stage production, with the number eventually taking the characters to the streets of New York and eventually to Central Park. Not surprisingly, film allows these exterior settings to be more convincing than they are on the stage, although I’m not sure that makes much of a difference in the effectiveness of the number.

Broderick has his best sequence in the film with “I Want to Be a Producer”, Leo’s very elaborate “wishing” number. The number opens and closes in an immensely oppressive accounting office (with Jon Lovitz in a funny cameo as the foreman) that is taken over by showgirls, enormous staircases, and stage lighting. The film version provides a little more freedom of movement and expanded stage area over the stage production, although it actually loses some of the spectacle since the oversized props and pyrotechnics used on stage probably wouldn’t have translated as well to film.

The best of the new songs is “Keep It Gay”, the primary showpiece for Beach and Bart. By giving the song lyrics that mainly use the classic definition of the word “gay” while having everything about the setting and performers crying out the more modern definition, the entire number is essentially a large, hilarious double-entendre. While this sequence rather emphatically shows the lack of subtlety in Brooks’ approach to humor, it also manages to be the film’s most uproarious and clever sequence.

The two movie star additions, Thurman and Ferrell, each have one big production number that introduces their character. Thurman’s Ulla is introduced and pretty clearly defined in the number “When You Got It, Flaunt It!” While Thurman’s voice falls somewhat short of the rather demanding range for the song, she generally makes up for it by basically taking the title of the song to heart. Thurman also duets later in the film with Broderick on the romantic duet “That Face”, a sequence that unfortunately falls kind of flat. Part of the problem is the limited chemistry between the two performers, but it was also something of a miscalculation to play the number a bit more blatantly for laughs than they should have. Specifically, the song leads to a somewhat forced, slapstick conclusion when it really should have ended up with a more traditional romantic embrace.

Ferrell’s ” Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop” is the silliest song of the film, but Ferrell wisely resists going too far over-the-top, essentially allowing the silliness of the song and situation to speak for itself. I think it says quite a bit about Ferrell’s potential longevity as an actor that he was able to resist overplaying a character that could have so easily been played completely off the chart. In this sequence, the film does repeat one of the stage show’s best visual bits with the inclusion of choreography by Ferrell’s caged pigeons. Jim Henson’s Creature Shop was brought in to provide the effects for this sequence. Ferrell also performs a hilarious “pop ballad” arrangement of this song, which plays over the end credits. This performance, as well as a special post-credits surprise, makes it very worthwhile to stick around to the very end.

The one song that seems to suffer the most in the transition from stage to screen is “Along Comes Bialy”, which was the act-1 finale in the theater production. This song focuses on Max’s unconventional approach to fund-raising in a number that includes chorus lines and tap dancing elderly women with walkers. It is a funny idea that works rather well on stage, but the sequence comes off rather flat on film. This is one case where the filmmakers definitely should have done some significant re-conception and re-working to accommodate the change of medium. The fairly linear choreography works well on stage, but on film this would have been better served by some Busby Berkley style camera motion.

To keep the running time manageable and address the different pacing that is sometimes needed for film instead of the stage, two songs are eliminated from the film and some of the others are trimmed somewhat. The eliminated songs are Max’s introductory number, “The King of Broadway”, and “Where Did We Go Right?”, which followed the opening night of the show within a show. Neither song is really much of a loss for the film, although it might have been nice for the film to be a more complete reproduction of the stage show. “The King of Broadway” does show up as a bonus track on the soundtrack CD, so it is likely that the number was filmed and will show up on the DVD release.

Even though writer/producer/songwriter Mel Brooks doesn’t start in the film and handed off directing duties to the stage show’s director, Susan Stroman, he still pretty much dominates the proceedings. Whether or not someone is really likely to enjoy this film is likely going to be heavily dependent on whether or not Brooks’ style of humor connects for him. The film plays pretty heavily on various stereotypes, basically blowing them up to a point of complete absurdity. It is pretty much fearless in its willingness to go after pretty much everyone, including Germans and Jews, gays and straights, men and women, old and young. I feel that this over-the-top, anything for a laugh attitude ultimately overcomes offense with good humor, but admittedly this type of comedy doesn’t appeal to everyone.

Fortunately, I think it is a pretty safe bet that most people who would tend to be offended or bored by Brooks’ humor probably already know that and will stay away. The behind-the-scenes on Broadway storyline also likely limits the appeal quite a bit for film audiences, making the story perhaps a bit more at home on the stage. When I saw the movie a little over a week ago, it was already down to a single daily showing at each of just 3 theaters in the San Fernando Valley. This was after only 3 weeks of wide release and a less than $20 million domestic box-office gross. The original film of “The Producers” is arguably Mel Brooks’ most acclaimed movie, but it also has not retained the mainstream popularity of some of his later hits such as “Blazing Saddles” or “Young Frankenstein”.

Fortunately, the stage production of “The Producers” continues to play on Broadway and is also likely to continue in touring and/or regional productions for many years to come. The stage will likely continue to be the most appropriate venue for this and I certainly encourage anyone to seek out opportunities to see it that way. The new film will soon be available on DVD, of course, and I definitely recommend it highly as an alternative for those that haven’t the opportunity to see the show on stage or as a way to re-visit the stage experience.

Steven Spielberg’s new adaptation of H.G. Wells’ classic novel War of the Worlds contains many of the conventional elements of the mainstream disaster movie and adds an unusual layer of realism, both in style and characterizations. The result is a genuinely scary film that maintains a very high level of tension and excitement.

The film, which was adapted by screenwriters Josh Friedman and David Koepp (the latter also adapted Jurassic Park and its sequel The Lost World for Spielberg) pretty closely follows the structure of Wells’ novel, but transports the setting from 19th century London to present day New York. The central character of an absentee father (Tom Cruise) trying to escort his children to safety is created for the film, a smart decision as Wells novel was told through the eyes of an undeveloped first-person observer, an approach that wouldn’t likely work as well on film.

Cruise gives a good performance as Ray, a man who initially is not very sympathetic or heroic, but is ultimately forced to find some maturity and parental instincts by the extreme circumstances of the alien invasion. The character is a variation of the charming, cocky, but irresponsible persona that Cruise has frequently portrayed in past films and it is interesting seeing those traits treated more as negatives that need to be overcome instead of strengths, a somewhat natural progression as Cruise has become older and is naturally going to be playing characters with greater responsibilities. Ray is likable, but clearly a lousy parent who has to struggle to gain enough trust from his children to provide any chance that he can keep them safe.

Dakota Fanning gives a very convincing performance as Rachel, Ray’s 10-year-old daughter, continuing the tradition of very strong child performances in Spielberg’s films. I was particularly impressed by the realism of the character. Rachel does not act like a typically precocious movie child, but instead her reactions seem very realistic for a 10-year-old placed into horrifying circumstances. Instead of being a pillar of strength, as movie kids sometimes are, she truly seems like a frightened child. I particularly appreciated the inclusion of several scenes where Ray and the older son put a great deal of effort into trying to shield her from some of the horrors going on all around.

The teenage son, Robbie, played by Justin Chatwin, is also more realistically portrayed than I initially expected. At first, it seems like the character is going to be the typically morose and disinterested movie teen, but there is more complexity there as the character reveals some unexpected heroism and strength. Some of the film’s most effective character moments come from the conflicts between Robbie’s youthful impulse to get involved and fight back and Ray’s parental instinct to keep his child safe.

Of course, this film isn’t primarily a character-oriented film and the main attraction is going to be the special effects and action. Spielberg wastes no time getting into the core of the alien invasion story and the tension rarely lets up throughout the nearly 2-hour running time. It very effectively builds up a powerful overriding sense of dread and hopelessness that is very unusual for this type of mainstream disaster movie. Unlike the more traditional recent genre efforts (such as Independence Day or Armageddon), there is an unexpected sense of authenticity to the emotions prompted by the unfolding events. I suspect this more authentic portrayal of events in a disaster movie was part of Spielberg’s motivation for making this film, particularly in an era in which recent real world events make it a bit harder to accept this kind of destruction being taken lightly. While the film is overall probably the most downbeat of Spielberg’s mainstream blockbusters, he still is able to recognize the points where a little bit of humor is needed. Generally, these bits of humor come from the character dialog and never seem out-of-place or out-of-character.

Stylistically, this film does not have the slickness that you might expect from a big-budget blockbuster in this genre. Visually, the previous Spielberg film that this most resembles is Saving Private Ryan. Spielberg and his long-time cinematographer Janusz Kaminski forgo the use of a widescreen format and use handheld photography and muted colors and lighting to generate a gritty, somewhat dirty, often first-person look to the proceedings. The grainy, 35mm photography makes for an interesting contrast to the slick, widescreen digital approach that Spielberg’s friend and sometimes collaborator George Lucas used on his recently-released final Star Wars film.

There are some very spectacular set pieces showing death and destruction, but they aren’t gleeful or exploitative and instead inspire a realistic sense of horror in the viewer. Spielberg also shows his skill for building a great deal of tension with some smaller sequences, including an intensely frightening sequence involving a panicked crowd and a very tense, extended sequence featuring Tim Robbins in a strong supporting performance as a man whom the circumstances have pushed over the edge of sanity. This sequence concludes with a final confrontation that is made exceptionally powerful by Spielberg’s decision to keep it off-screen.

If you are looking for a movie that revels in the destruction, this probably isn’t the right movie to see. A number of sequences and images in this film leave a lingering impression that may be a bit hard to shake. While the film is sufficiently restrained to have achieved a PG-13 rating, the overall intensity of this film is such that parents should give careful consideration (and possibly pre-screen the film) before taking their kids.

The visual design of the alien tri-pods very convincingly realizes the descriptions that are included in Wells’ novel. The film also includes a few visual nods to George Pal’s previous film version as well. Spielberg shows great restraint by holding of on showing the aliens themselves until very late in the film and even then the sequence is fairly short. Again the visual design is faithful to Wells’ descriptions.

With his 21st score for a Spielberg directed feature film, composer John Williams once again adds a very important element to the film’s success. The music is among William’s darkest and most intense compositions, often adding immeasurably to the sense of dread. This score does not have the distinctive melodic themes common to most of Williams’ other scores, instead having a more abstract, even atonal, quality. It probably isn’t a soundtrack album that I will listen to very often, but the score is absolutely right for the film.

The sound design on the film is also very good, with some extremely skillful use of surround sound. Very distinctive sounds are used to signal the arrival of the alien tri-pods (much the same way that the booming footsteps were used to signal the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park) and sound is also often used to convey off-screen events, basically allowing your hearing and your imagination to generate the images. There is even one very effective scene in which the screen is completely black while a key event is conveyed entirely through sound.

Of course, this is the third theatrical film that Spielberg has directed about aliens visiting the Earth. While this film really has little in common with E.T. – The Extra-Terrestrial (although there is one short bit that I think was an intentional, but subtle reference), there actually are some stylistic similarities to Close Encounters of the Third Kind, despite the obvious difference in the intent and nature of the aliens. The earlier film had some rather tense sequences prior to the point where we learned the aliens intentions and some of that is echoed in this film. The previously-mentioned panicked crowd sequence, in particular, has some echoes of a similar sequence in the earlier film.

The one small complaint that I had about the film is that the ending, while appropriate and generally faithful to Wells’ novel, seems to come a bit abruptly. It is generally the right ending for this movie (although there is one character-oriented decision that I found a bit questionable), but it felt like it could have used a bit more build-up than it received. There seems to be a bit of a leap in time and place that could have used a bit more connecting material. It isn’t a fatal flaw, by any means, but it does cause the film to ultimately fall a bit short of the potential suggested during the first 3/4 of its running time.

Despite this slight flaw, this is still a fine addition to Spielberg’s impressive body of work and an overall very satisfying adaptation of one of the true classic works of science fiction.

Copyright 2005, Jeffrey Graebner