From the Vault: Seabiscuit, 20 Years Later

Jeremy BeckReviews
Seabiscuit

[EDITOR’S NOTE: In 2003, long before MovieManifesto.com existed, I spent my summer as a 20-year-old college kid writing as many movie reviews as I could. My goal was to compile them all into a website, possibly hosted by Tripod or Geocities, which would surely impress all of the women in my dorm. That never happened—neither the compiling nor the impressing—but the reviews still exist. So, now that I am a wildly successful critic actually have a website, I’ll be publishing those reviews on the respective date of each movie’s 20th anniversary. Against my better judgment, these pieces remain unedited from their original form. I apologize for the quality of the writing; I am less remorseful about the character of my 20-year-old opinions.]

There is an epic majesty about Seabiscuit, and I don’t just mean the horse. This is a throwback motion picture, one that is redolent of a distant era of cinema in which filmmakers suffused their creations with spirit and passion. It is by no means a flawless film – it is too long, too sentimental, and too reverential – but it carries itself with an elegant grace and nobility, and it has unanticipated moments of considerable power. For all its faults, Seabiscuit is a complete film, both uncommonly thoughtful and undeniably exhilarating, all the way to the finish line. Read More

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Mission: Impossible—Dead Reckoning, Part One: Choose to Exceptional

Jeremy BeckReviews
Hayley Atwell and Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible, Dead Reckoning, Part One

The Mission: Impossible franchise doesn’t change so much as grow. It’s a creature of controlled entropy; it keeps getting bigger—longer runtimes, more elaborate plotting, increasingly crazed stunts—but it always subjects its maniacal absurdity to meticulous quality control. Two movies ago, in the spectacular Rogue Nation, a bureaucrat memorably described Ethan Hunt—the indefatigable superspy played by Tom Cruise as a cross between James Bond and the Road Runner—as “the living manifestation of destiny.” This time around, in Dead Reckoning, Part One, a beleaguered company man (Shea Whigham) calls him “a mind-reading, shape-shifting incarnation of chaos.” You get the idea: This dude is committed, and he ain’t slowing down.

You might say the same thing about Cruise, though the one enemy that Hollywood’s most fanatical star seems unlikely to vanquish is Father Time. Yet one of the pleasures of Dead Reckoning is how it probes the tension between its 61-year-old lead’s eternal charm and the inexorable fact of his own mortality. I’m not suggesting that Cruise shows his age here; he remains extraordinarily fit and good-looking, and he performs feats of derring-do that would make actors of any generation blanch. But the man who leapt into multiplexes for Brian De Palma in the summer of 1996, hovering inches above the floor as a bead of sweat slid perilously across his brow, has gradually lost some of his invincibility. When this Ethan runs, you feel his muscles ache. Read More

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Joy Ride: Girls Quip

Jeremy BeckReviews
Sabria Wu, Ashley Park, Sherry Cola, and Stephanie Hsu in Joy Ride

During one of the more outlandish moments in Everything Everywhere All at Once, Stephanie Hsu watches in horror as an adversary attempts to plug a curiously shaped office plaque into his anus. Now in Joy Ride, the new road-trip comedy from Adele Lim, Hsu has transitioned from observer to participant; at one point, circumstances conspire such that she must shove eight plastic baggies filled with cocaine up her own ass.

The sight of a newly minted Oscar nominee frantically thrusting narcotics inside her asshole operates both as its own joke and as the setup for a subsequent, cleverly delayed punch line. (Remember, whenever a character says that the occurrence of a certain event makes her horny, you can be damn sure that event will take place—and in the most compromising scenario possible.) It also encapsulates the movie’s maximalist approach to comedy. Every orifice gets its own moment in Joy Ride, as do K-pop enthusiasts, martial-arts soap operas, Cardi B, projectile vomit, vaginal tattoos, and former NBA All-Star Baron Davis. It’s a lot, and it isn’t ashamed of its own muchness. Read More

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From the Vault: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, 20 Years Later

Jeremy BeckReviews
Sean Connery in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

[EDITOR’S NOTE: In 2003, long before MovieManifesto.com existed, I spent my summer as a 20-year-old college kid writing as many movie reviews as I could. My goal was to compile them all into a website, possibly hosted by Tripod or Geocities, which would surely impress all of the women in my dorm. That never happened—neither the compiling nor the impressing—but the reviews still exist. So, now that I am a wildly successful critic actually have a website, I’ll be publishing those reviews on the respective date of each movie’s 20th anniversary. Against my better judgment, these pieces remain unedited from their original form. I apologize for the quality of the writing; I am less remorseful about the character of my 20-year-old opinions.]

Here is a movie that, when all’s said and done, fails to possess an identity. It is unsure whether it is an action blockbuster, a broad comedy, or a glib satire, and so it tries to be all of these at once and winds up being none of them. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (or LXG, as it has taken to calling itself) is a rambling, self-destructive journey that ultimately has no purpose. To be sure, it has its moments of genuine imagination, but most of the time it feels woefully uninspired, especially when saddled with such an insipid plot. This is a forgettable mishmash that pretends to be sly and entertaining but is, in reality, just plain dull. Read More

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From the Vault: Pirates of the Caribbean, 20 Years Later

Jeremy BeckReviews
Keira Knightley and Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean

[EDITOR’S NOTE: In 2003, long before MovieManifesto.com existed, I spent my summer as a 20-year-old college kid writing as many movie reviews as I could. My goal was to compile them all into a website, possibly hosted by Tripod or Geocities, which would surely impress all of the women in my dorm. That never happened—neither the compiling nor the impressing—but the reviews still exist. So, now that I am a wildly successful critic actually have a website, I’ll be publishing those reviews on the respective date of each movie’s 20th anniversary. Against my better judgment, these pieces remain unedited from their original form. I apologize for the quality of the writing; I am less remorseful about the character of my 20-year-old opinions.]

God damn this movie is fun. There exists in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl an unadulterated joy of filmmaking so rarely found in the sullen cynicism of modern cinema. The film is crafted with skill and dexterity, fusing classically grand storytelling with a light-footed comedic grace. It is superbly acted, but even more, it is unapologetically cheerful, so that a genuine delight permeates each frame. This is a bold, effervescent picture, and it is an absolute pleasure to behold. Read More

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