Breaking Bad (S.2)

Continuing its story with its great premise and great acting, the second season of "Breaking Bad" re-asserted the show's strengths. Splitting its time essentially between chemistry teacher turned meth dealer Walter White and his associate Jesse Pinkman, the second season at nearly double the length of the first allowed for long ruminations of Walter's mindset and the man at heart. Pinkman, the perpetual fuck-up is fleshed out here as a sad case, and one whom we would like to see Walter rescue. Also worthy of a mention, Dean Norris as Walter's brother-in-law Hank Schrader (a D.E.A. agent) is wonderfully humanized in his own arc within season two. In a series of cool and brisk set-ups, the term 'suspenseful' applies to each and every one of the episodes. "Breaking Bad" is a great television show, and this season only solidifies that classification. Despite a finale that is practically bad, 12 other, impeccable, earlier episodes don't deserve to be judged under that singular lens.
Breaking Bad (S.2): ★★★1/2

Breaking Bad (S.1)

An 00's show at its core, "Breaking Bad" has all of the markings: a main character who engages in morally questionable acts, some fine acting across the board, and (like many of its counterparts) heavily influenced by the suspenseful structure of "The Sopranos". Led by Bryan Cranston in a great performance, chemistry teacher Walt White, upon learning of his inoperable lung cancer, turns to cooking meth as a means of paying for his treatments and for the wellbeing of his family after his death. Based in Albuquerque (and making good use of that location), Walt teams up with a past student who's in the business named Jesse (Aaron Paul). Turns out, the overqualified teacher Walt makes the finest, purest meth known, and his product is briskly coveted by junkies across New Mexico. Jesse and Walt run into a ton of problems, as is inevitable, and most of the first season consists of their attempts to rectify a specific problem that is set up in episode one. The subtleties of their mistakes which are questioned at the time, joyously turn up in future episodes, and it adds a certain realism to the show which is appreciated. Well-written, well acted, and occasionally riveting, "Breaking Bad" adds to the list of great shows in its league on tv (especially similar to Showtime's "Dexter".
Breaking Bad (S.1): ★★★1/2

Valhalla Rising

From Nicholas Winding Refn, director of this year's exemplary DRIVE, came VALHALLA RISING, a tale mired in sometimes unnecessary stylistic gestures, and a quasi-historical starting point. In mountainous, foggy terrain, a hell-like world brews. An unnamed man with one eye is prisoner to a group of apparently nordic men. Some men dress in heavy garments, but this lowly slave is left only a few scraps of clothing. He is watched over and caged, taken around the country as a sort of dogfighting tough. He speaks not a word (a similarity between this feature and DRIVE), but his face is one of charisma, and Refn's direction allows for quick bursts of passionate violence from One-Eye (who is played by Mads Mikkelsen). One-Eye, and a young boy who exclusively has some control over him, eventually free themselves from the slave-owners, and venture out into hell in a series of "parts" specified by Refn. One-Eye and the boy eventually discover a few zealous crusaders (few in number) who lead them to a ghostly ship, which drifts off quite far from the desired destination, Jerusalem, and ends up in the New World. We have all heard stories (and seen movies) of New World discovery, but VALHALLA RISING does it in a unique fashion. One-Eye, our source for solid character, is himself baffled in his attempt to make sense of the New World. He discovers that even his own brand of brawn is not enough, and Refn's direction makes VALHALLA RISING a surprisingly slow, spooky film with a lot of great action. The film has its flaws: Refn is occasionally unwieldy with the cast-over look of his film, and it makes the movie seem "cast-over" just to be cast-over, and not for any real reason. Despite this, VALHALLA RISING is a good film.
Valhalla Rising: ★★★

Buried

Unintentionally a response to Danny Boyle's 127 HOURS (this one features a severed finger, an enclosed space, a single character), the sadly trash-labelled Ryan Reynolds vessel BURIED is a cynical piece of good filmmaking with a bad message. The film opens to darkness, and then the flickers of a lighter (the first of many various ways to light the small space). Ryan Reynolds' clichéd, stubble infested face comes into view, and we learn that he is just a mere truck driver in Iraq, kidnapped after an attack, and buried alive in a coffin. Searching around, Reynolds' Paul Conroy discovers only a few small items to assist him: a zippo lighter and a blackberry. The blackberry miraculously (one of the films problems is miraculous circumstances) has power (only half of the battery left) and Paul begins to call various people who he thinks could assist him. this venture carries on for about half an hour, riveting in simultaneous realizations that a) we are riveted by a film that takes place with one character in the dark in a space about 3x6ft, and b) the ridiculous lengths that Paul has to go through to get help. Things start to happen though, and Paul is finally connected tot he voice of a hostage specialist. Spanish director Rodgrigo Cortés does a very good job at finding things to happen within his limitations, and the film is very well made. However, it suffers from a cynicism and a grim insistence to make bad things keep happening that is ugly in any film. Too many half-statements and fearful quasi-anti-americanisms hinder BURIED from being the anti-film to the overly distractive and extremely fearful 127 HOURS, but it is still entertaining and (for a very long time) very fun.
Buried: ★★★

Devil

It sets itself up like a John Carpenter film from the 70's: building an odd cast, steely motions, and hidden violence in movement. Underneath an upturned world (perhaps too obvious a metaphor), and with a constant Christian superstitious undertone, a towering building in Philadelphia on a stormy day feeds some storytelling voiceover of a minor character. In this building, a few people attempt to enter an elevator. It's too full, and they wait for another, entering one by one until there are five. The elevator stalls, and the five are stuck together inside. This could work as some psychological play set-up, but the stormy skies and steely movements warn of a different tale. A security guard watching the events take place on camera tells us of the devil, who is a devious creature who doesn't give mercy. People start to get hurt inside of the elevator, and the police are called in, headed by a damaged detective. What is happening in the elevator is unknown, but we seem to know that one of the people inside is responsible for the events. Half detective story outside of the elevator, half ghost / slasher inside the elevator, DEVIL is a perfectly respectable, if not forgettable, piece of short, crisp, and problematic cinema.
Devil: ★★★

Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills

So 90's in camera style, detached documentary work, and uncanny subject divulgence due to the still new mass-television-audience medium. Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky direct, admittedly for HBO, in the small town of West Memphis, Arkansas. The people are trash, obsessed with the idea of satanism, which has seeped into their consciousness with television. 3 boys, Michael Moore, Christopher Byers, and Stephen Branch, in 1993, were brutally killed in, or near the forest. Their deaths and mutilated bodies, were attributed to satanic killings, the parents angry as hell (understandably), but, as it is, too eager to see any justice rather than real justice. Sinofsky and Berlinger have astonishing access. Not only into the families of the deceased, but into the subsequent trials that took place afterwards. Police, eager to place blame, sought out the weirdos in town. These were: mentally retarded Jesse Miskelly, Jr. (forced to confess under duress), 16 year old Jason Baldwin, and the supposed ringleader, Damien Echols. The three were bastardized by the townspeople, and put on trial to no evidence, emotion, and hearsay. Berlinger and Sinofsky have an  intent here: to show an injustice, and simultaneously, they craft the picture of an uneducated mass of people as fascinated by satanism as they are ignorant of the power of the camera. The following documentaries by the documentary duo exhibit even more of this truth, and its gradual realization.
Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills: ★★★1/2

The Decalogue I

THE DECALOGUE is a film project by Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski. It tells of the ten commandments. Ten commandments. Ten films. The first Decalogue, as all the others do, takes place in a compartmentalized little world. A father and son faun over their computer. It can shut off the water, lock and unlock the door, perform extremely complicated mathematic problems. The father is a professor of math at a local school, the son, bright and sunny as a child can be, shows interest in God, math, and spirituality. The crime committed, however, is this duo's trust in a God other than God. The duo put their trust in this emblem, and they are thus doomed. This is a sad film, but a great one. A man watches their plight from the shore of a frozen lake. He knows as we do the doom.
The Decalogue I: ★★★1/2