12 YEARS A SLAVE Review

Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) was a free man living in 1841 Saratoga, New York before getting kidnapped and sold into slavery, leaving behind his wife and children. He was well-educated, played the fiddle and was respected in his community before getting tricked into a two-week music gig in Washington D.C., which led him chained up against his will in the Deep South en-route to the slave trade and stripped of all freedom he ever knew. The eloquent director Steve McQueen documents this unsentimental, unflinching journey to hell and back, and it's certainly not easy viewing. But that doesn't make it any less essential viewing, a testament to film as art. "12 Years a Slave" is a perfect movie, an instant American classic.

Solomon is given the name Platt and sold to the mild-mannered Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) by a slave trader played by a brief but dastardly appearance from Paul Giamatti. Thrust into this cruel new world, the suffocation of helplessness experienced by Solomon is palpable. Ford turns out to be the most tame of slave owners Solomon encounters; the wild, hot-tempered Tibeats (Paul Dano) is the real threat on this particular plantation, tormenting the slave until he lashes out. Solomon gets strung up on a noose forced to wait for Ford's return. He sputters, trying to keep from choking while he hangs, his feet toeing at the slippery mud beneath him, the hot unrelenting sun beating down. Plantation life continues on behind him in real time as we watch him struggle.

It's a stunning singular long shot that encapsulates the director's style, drawing bleak beauty from the ugliness of humanity. McQueen is very much an auteur. It's bold and brilliant filmmaking, aided greatly by an equal parts blistering and moving score from Hans Zimmer and cinematography from Sean Bobbitt who doesn't let audiences off the hook, creating images they soon won't shake. The film lingers on moments much longer than other directors might, including both scenes of quiet reflection and grueling torment.

Solomon's next slave owner is the incarnation of evil, Epps (Michael Fassbender), whose soul has corroded away as he justifies the abuse of his slaves through scripture. His wife (Sarah Paulson) is no better, whose violent jealousy toward slave girl Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o) leads to her prolonged mistreatment. A borderline unwatchable scene has Epps lashing Patsey until her back is shredded, even making Solomon partake in the cruel act against one of his own. British actor Chiwetel Ejiofor is forced to carry the burden of the film's atrocities as Solomon Northup in a flat-out Oscar-worthy performance. The supporting cast all astounds, too, especially Lupita Nyong'o embodying Patsey's howling pain. And there are no words for Michael Fassbender who digs deep into himself to create a man controlled by his society's unrighteous ways.

Solomon Northup's memoir was published in 1853 and has been adapted here by John Ridley. In the simplicity of the storytelling, the screenplay commits poetry to the screen. There's a happy ending of the once free and then enslaved man returning to his wife and children after a chance encounter with Canadian abolitionist Bass (Brad Pitt). But it's not the happy ending Hollywood would have; it's somber and permanently stained with the thought of those men and women Solomon leaves behind to the torment of their captors, the ones who will never know freedom to begin with. It's a chilling parable, capturing the darkest hour in our nation's history. This is the best film of the year.

PROMETHEUS Review

The first image in Ridley Scott's "Prometheus" is a pale-looking superhuman man who is probably neither human or man. He stands on the edge of a cliff with some sort of spaceship far above him. Something horrific happens to his body, and he's cast into the water below with what appears to be cellular structures forming in the rushing water. Is this place Earth? Is this person or alien where humans came from? Is this showing us our beginning? From outer space?

Scott's first sci-fi feature since 1982's "Blade Runner" asks big questions about the origins of humankind. The promise is a deep existential journey with philosophical musings on God and meeting our maker. The problem with this quasi-prequel to his 1979 "Alien" is that the movie poses the questions, but the end result doesn't uphold the initial lofty ambition. In trying to expand his sci-fi classic into something more grandiose, an entire universe of possibility, he actually ends up taking a step back and muddling the story.

A spaceship named Prometheus heads toward an unknown planet following the discovery of a prehistoric star map by two scientists. They believe this distant location marks the spot where humankind was originally conceived. One of the scientists who made the discovery is an intelligent and brave woman, Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace of the Swedish "Dragon Tattoo" trilogy). She's a woman of faith but holds to the notion of a higher life form responsible for creating us. Shaw's boyfriend, Charlie (Logan Marshall-Green), is a fellow scientist who aided in the discovery. Together they get recruited to lead the mission aboard Prometheus, which is headed by a frigid corporate woman, Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron in ice queen mode much like her role last weekend in "Snow White and the Huntsman"). She represents the company who funded the mission; they're not in it for the discovery, just the money.

We could've been satisfied with a top-notch thrill ride in space, but Scott and his writers Damon Lindelof (of TV's "Lost") and Jon Spaihts go for something bigger. This gives the movie a crippling split-personality disorder. On the one hand it wants to be a crowd-pleasing action-packed adventure full of ooey gooey guts galore and gross-out alien creature moments. On the other hand is the Terrence Malick aspirations, a minor version of "The Tree of Life," contemplating where life had its beginnings. Whether you go in expecting one or the other, either way you'll end up unsatisfied. Instead, we get left with an empty feeling of missed opportunity and disappointment.

And what more is a feeling of frustration in seeing just how well-produced the whole project is. What's inside the gift wrapping, however, turns out to be less so. You'll still feel like you're getting your money's worth because it sure doesn't look cheap, but the visual grandeur of it all becomes nearly disheartening to see all the wasted potential because it really is a technically profound and awe-inspiring film. The desired scope and sphere of the whole story, however, is never achieved. You may be fooled with breathtaking set pieces and some harrowing sequences of alien action, but these are only temporary distractions from the glaring plot holes, threadbare plot, incoherent narrative and countless unanswered questions.

What doesn't fail is the superb acting, most notably from Michael Fassbender as the on-board android, David. He's like a mobile and humanized version of HAL 5000 of "2001: A Space Odyssey." We're first introduced to him as he watches Peter O'Toole in "Lawrence of Arabia" carefully arranging his hair and speaking patterns to imitate the actor. Fassbender's performance here is a thing of beauty. He's restricted by a character unable to show true human emotion yet he uses subtlety to build up quiet menace and wit behind his robot's stiff frame.

"Prometheus" does kick itself up a notch in the end, and the last 30 minutes almost forgives what preceded. And if you walk away remembering one scene, it'll be the powerhouse of Noomi Rapace conducting self-surgery with an automatic operating table. It's a visceral and nerve-jangling scene that'll have you cringing and cheering. That moment alone proves this talented Swedish actress is going to have a prolific American film career.

X-MEN: FIRST CLASS Review

"X-Men: First Class" (2011)

What makes "X-Men: First Class" more sophisticated than any other superhero movie coming out this summer? Its lack of 3D. Sure it could've been in 3D; there were easily plenty of moments within the rather dazzling special effects where the technology would've popped--countless more moments than "Pirates" and "Thor" combined. But instead, the filmmakers valiantly opted out of the dimming technology and went for substance over spectacle.

This prequel and, consequently, full-blown reboot of the X-Men franchise from Marvel returns after the failed attempt of "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" in 2009. Director Matthew Vaughn, who helmed last year's uproarious and irreverent "Kick-Ass," takes full control of shaping a brand new origin story for newcomers and fan boys alike that is crowd-pleasing in both respects. (Watch for an awesome cameo that acknowledges the existence of the other X-Men entries while also claiming, "Hey, we can do it better!") It's crisp, polished and solid entertainment in large part thanks to inspired casting and real acting.

If while watching the original "X-Men," "X2" or that last one people like to forget, 2006's "X-Men: The Last Stand," and ever wondered to yourself how Magneto (originally played by Ian McKellen), Professor X (Patrick Stewart) and his fighting team of mutants came to be--or even how Professor X got himself confined to a wheelchair--then worry no more. "First Class" answers all these questions and more. Don't believe the Cuban Missile Crisis fits into the lore of the X-Men comics? Believe it. It's all explained here with what has to be a record-breaking number of location and date lines for any superhero movie ever. It's expansive all right, and you won't feel like you didn't get your summer blockbuster's worth.

James McAvoy as the younger Professor X, or Charles Xavier, and Michael Fassbender (recently seen in this year's "Jane Eyre") as Magneto, or Erik Lehnsherr, are a fantastic pairing as the sworn enemies who were once allies. Charles isn't a stolid philosophical man just yet, but a new professor and a cocky British lad who happens to have the power of telepathy. Michael is a more sinister form of cocky with an ever-evolving power of magnetism. He's harnessing his powers to avenge the death of his mother who was killed at the hands of an evil Nazi doctor. Despite their emotional differences, Charles and Michael are two suave, charismatic and mysterious men played by actors who both exude masculine star power.

The young cast features Jennifer Lawrence in her most prominent role since "Winter's Bone" as the transforming blue-bodied Raven/Mystique. She's the actress to watch right now, especially since she's been cast as Katniss in the upcoming "Hunger Games," and she doesn't disappoint. With her is Nicholas Hoult as Hank/Beast and Lucas Till as Alex/Havoc; the like of these fresh faces give the prequel an animated life and energy. They've hardly hit the learning stages of their powers, so they're reckless and unpredictable.

Rose Byrne plays a compassionate CIA agent who discovers Charles for government use, and January Jones of "Mad Men" plays the femme fatale blond bombshell Emma Frost who competes against Charles in the world of telepathy. She's the sidekick to the first-class villain Sebastian Shaw--remember the evil Nazi doctor? He's played by Kevin Bacon, a performance which can't be considered anything but campy. He almost single-handedly sends the movie into unintentionally laughable terrain.

Like the original X-Men comics, placing the action in the midst of the 1960s Cold War is a compelling and unique backdrop; the look and feel of the era is nicely captured. Matthew Vaughn and his crowded group of co-screenwriters make the connection vastly convoluted, but it boils down to watching how a team of mutants--just beginning to connect with their true identities and purpose--save us from the brink of nuclear war in a showdown between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. It goes toward proving the mutants' benefit to mankind and setting up the X-Men team only to be divided, a split among the group that is demonstrated quite profoundly in the film's affecting final act.

The X-Men movies have always done an admirable job of infusing a message of acceptance and equality, and "X-Men: First Class" is no different. This comes through in the interactions between Raven who's ashamed of her blue scaly skin and Hank who hides his beastly feet, and their scenes bring a level of tenderness and sorrow. You can't deny a gay rights subtext this time around--certainly when Nicholas Hoult as Hank rewords the phrase "don't ask don't tell," which works as a nod and an inside joke to us. And considering Hoult's recent involvement with the work of Tom Ford, the wry humor is certainly warranted.