THE LEGO MOVIE Review

Christopher Miller and Phil Lord, the guys behind "21 Jump Street" and "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs," prove a perfect fit for taking the Lego toy property to the big screen. Instead of just a cash grab and launching point for another lucrative franchise (there's no doubt it's also that, but keep reading), its big heart and sense of creativity and imagination make "The Lego Movie" way more than just that. By completely embracing the spirit of the Lego toy brand itself -- something irreverent, goofy and colorful which both children and adults can enjoy -- it becomes an exhilarating piece of work both timeless and ageless. High praise for a movie about a bunch of building blocks, right? Let me keep going. "The Lego Movie" recalls the awe-inspiring originality that became the Pixar standard, and is the freshest, funniest, most audaciously weird and wacky, surprisingly emotional animated film to come along in years.

To quote the song that all the citizens of Bricksburg joyously sing in unison: "Everything Is Awesome." Indeed it is, vibrantly animated by Animal Logic, a visual effects team who has created such lush and tactile animation to the point of almost appearing to be stop-motion. It's both retro and cutting-edge. All the textures of each piece and all the blocks, the way they move and shatter and explode and build and interlock and interact within this world, it's all eye-popping.

The story follows ordinary construction worker Emmett (Chris Pratt, heading the exuberant cast of voice actors) who stumbles across a relic of extraordinary power, which labels him the one to save the universe against the evil Lord Business (Will Ferrell). It's all bombastic and heroic-sounding, but the writing satirically skewers such a hero story premise. The old, grey-bearded wizard named Vitruvius (spot-on casting of Morgan Freeman) spews the prophecy with pointed self-mockery, deeming what he says must be true because it rhymes.

Emmett is used to his hometown of Bricksburg where everything follows an instruction manual, there are no original creations, everyone watches the mindless sitcom "Where's My Pants?" and drinks $37 coffee drinks because that's the way Lord Business has deemed it to be. No alternatives. So, once Emmett gets thrust into his hero tale and meets the rebellious Wildstyle (Elizabeth Banks) and the world of Master Builders, he gets thrown for a loop. There are realms outside his own -- humorously referencing other Lego themed construction sets -- including The Old West, Middle Zealand and Cloud Cuckooland which is just one big free-for-all, much like "The Lego Movie" itself.

In their freewheeling and highly energetic style, Lord and Miller have made the movie way smarter and more clever than it has any right to be -- and it's all the better for it. The jokes come flying freaky and fast, zany and whip-smart, eliciting the need for a repeat viewing to catch everything. You'll also be too busy laughing to probably hear it all. I'm not kidding: it's that funny. Sly references and fun character cameos abound, the storyline incorporates all of the Lego properties like "Star Wars," "Harry Potter" and "Lord of the Rings." Batman (Will Arnett) is a hilarious parody of the low-growling superhero while Bad Cop (Liam Neeson) is basically a parody of Neeson's now full-blown status of go-to action hero.

"The Lego Movie" is very obviously Lord and Miller's brainchild, and it's no wonder it's so good. They even tackle issues of corporate branding and the threat of conglomerate (a la "WALL-E") erasing voice and individuality, which is a hefty message to deliver, but hey, they do it with panache and no preachy undertones. And how fitting, too, for a franchise whose entire premise is based on limitless possibility and a world where anything goes and everything is, in a word, awesome.

HER Review

Upon hearing the premise of Spike Jonze's "Her" -- the story of a man who falls in love with an operating system -- one may write it off as a surrealist dystopian gimmick. Quite the opposite. The wildly talented writer/director has already finessed such absurdist premises from Charlie Kaufman into wonderful works of art from "Being John Malkovich" to "Adaptation." In his directorial debut, Jonze adapated Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are" into a bold reimagining of childhood. Now in his fourth feature, he has given us a startling new way to look at the world. It's an elegiac meditation on relationships and how we live today, and it's brilliant.

Joaquin Phoenix plays Theodore Twombly, a smart and kind but desperately lonely man who's still reeling from a break-up with his wife, Catherine (Rooney Mara), a year later. He lives in the not-so-distant future in Los Angeles, a very nonsleek and tactile-looking future, an aesthetic that could only be thought up by Spike Jonze. Theodore works for a company that composes hand-written letters to loved ones, but they are written by the company's employees. So, he spends his days diving into the personal lives of others, trying his best to avoid his own. It's the first sign of the large emotional disconnect this society experiences, and it's not so far from our own reality.

Consider the citizens walking around with what look like hearing aids plugged into their ears, talking to themselves; or, rather, talking to their operating system (OS). Google Glass, anyone? In this world, a new version has just been released, OS 1, with an ever-adapting personality that suits the user's every need. Theodore gets his own and is introduced to the self-named Samantha. "Hello, I am here," she says into the darkness of Theodore's living room. And so it begins.

Samantha is, almost inevitably, voiced by Scarlett Johansson whose smoky, girl-next-door demeanor gives the disembodied voice a necessary physicality throughout the blossoming of her and Theodore's relationship. What starts off quirky and cute transforms into a romance that is totally serious and, amazingly enough, believable and true. Johansson is soulful and charming in the completely off-screen role, while Phoenix gives a performance in pure isolation that is as potent as, if not more than, the widely-acclaimed Sandra Bullock in "Gravity" and Robert Redford in "All Is Lost."

Theodore does have human connection in his life. His co-worker Paul (Chris Pratt) is in a happy human relationship while his friend Amy (Amy Adams, resembling a frizzy-haired Cameron Diaz from "Being John Malkovich"), is in an unsatisfied human relationship. Theodore eventually has the confidence to announce to them that, yes, he is dating his OS. Enchanting, beautiful and deeply sad -- aided greatly by a score from Arcade Fire, featuring the last track "Supersymmetry" off their new album -- the film isn't about an OS but about what such a relationship does to the human condition.

"Her" begins to lose shape and momentum in its third act, but that's also when the film's message starts to seep in. How do we reach out to find human connection? We're left wondering about the possibility of true love and whether we are forever caught up in ourselves to honestly connect to another person. And in the end, the absence of all distraction -- our computers, technology, our highly-advanced operating systems -- might allow us to finally see what's right in front of us.

ZERO DARK THIRTY Review

Director Kathryn Bigelow and writer Mark Boal are dynamite collaborators. Proving themselves with "The Hurt Locker," now they've taken on the daunting challenge of re-creating the decade-long hunt and elimination of Osama bin Laden. It's movie journalism in every sense of the phrase, a ripped-from-the-headlines thriller that wears controversy on its sleeve. It gives no moral compass; that's up for us to decide. The challenge with the film, even in its sweeping accomplishment of craft, is that it has to straddle the line of two territories: fact-based procedural and enthralling cinema. Entertainment is not how I would describe "Zero Dark Thirty."

It's brazen, challenging and nerve-wrenching. It's a dangerous film in its impact and obligation with the weight of history on its shoulders. Cinematic moments like this only come once in a while. "United 93" is another example. There's no doubt Bigelow and Boal deserve accolades for bringing a pivotal moment in the War on Terror to screen with such potency, but you also can't help but shake the feeling of it being still too soon. But it's the excitement of now, how current and how daring -- but also, how frightening. Imagine this film a few more years down the line; however, imagine the lessened shock of impact.

At an undisclosed CIA "black site," an enforcer named Dan (Jason Clarke) tells his interrogation subject, Ammar (Reda Kateb), "If you lie to me, I hurt you." Dan then waterboards his subject with a stoic-looking Maya (Jessica Chastain) standing watch nearby. She cringes at the torture but doesn't stop because she knows it's necessary. Necessary? That's the disturbing power of the film with its display of America's post-9/11 "enhanced interrogation tactics." Without saying it point blank, it still says it: the tactics worked. Cut to a TV where Obama in an interview says America doesn't tolerate torture. Yet they get a critical name out of it, the name of bin Laden's personal courier, Abu Ahmed al-Kuwaiti.

From this information, Maya gets her lead. She's steadfast in her hunt even in a work environment full of hostility and doubt against her. Chastain astounds in the role as a woman doing her job brilliantly and against all odds. She's strung-out, exhausted, aggravated and beaten-down. Yet even as her friends and co-workers are dying around her, she never gives in. Even when her boss (Kyle Chandler) tells her to stop chasing after an elusive ghost and to start going after tangible targets that will get him more immediate results for his superiors, she stands her ground. For her, finding bin Laden is a personal conquest. "I believe I was spared so I can finish the job," she says. The film is an intense character study on the real-life Maya, and it's what elevates the proceedings beyond its dense fact-based procedural.

The film is nearly three hours in length and, much like "The Hurt Locker," has a consistent building of anticipation-driven tension strung throughout its sequences. One particular moment is when Maya has located who she believes is bin Laden's courier and sends a team of agents (led by Edgar Ramirez) into the packed streets of Peshawar, Pakistan to track down his cell phone signal. The scene is a pulse-pounding exercise in suspense and really shows Bigelow's capabilities if she were to be handed mainstream action. But she and Boal are after something much grander with this picture. Their previous outing, however, was a better movie because in its fictionalization of the war in Iraq, they had something to say. Here, the action is too literal; because it's an exact re-telling, they must stick close to facts.

The big revelation of course arrives when Maya discovers that iconic three-tiered concrete complex in which she believes bin Laden resides. Next comes the harrowing convincing in D.C. that they can actually find their high priority target there. "I'm the motherfucker that found this place, sir," Chastain's Maya tells an excellent James Gandolfini. Maya is always "the girl" in the room, but everybody else in the room begins to realize she's the one calling the shots and knows exactly what she's doing with every action, every reaction.

Once the decision comes to send a team of Navy SEALs (led by Joel Edgerton and Chris Pratt) to the complex to finally kill bin Laden, the film comes to an anti-climax. Again, the action becomes wholly too literal. The infiltration is a step-by-step re-enactment, a strictly business demeanor of eliminating bin Laden through the haze of green-tinted night-vision goggles. I was expecting something more figurative, metaphorical -- a finish that would have something larger to say about the decade-long hunt. We do, however, get a close-up of Maya's reaction to the successful mission, the relief and final satisfaction on her face. What we don't read from her is the question of whether it was all worth it, what it all means for the future of the War on Terror. But maybe we simply don't know that yet. Today's America hasn't come far enough to know the answer to that question.