‘The niche film of 2011, starring Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo.  Yeah, it’s that black and white silent movie.’

Michel Hazanavicius’s black & white and silent The Artist is undoubtedly one of the most charming and enchanting films about film and its industry.  This is a film that celebrates the immense fun, entertainment, and joyous sense of escapism that is found in movies; it follows a subtle path in climbing into your brain to flip the nostalgia switch and remind you of some of the many reasons why we love movies.  When reviewing a film, I tend to avoid drawing comparisons, but in this case, I think the connection should be made.  Scorsese’s ode to silent films from late 2011, Hugo, took a very similar nostalgic approach, but differs from The Artist in a simple analogy: While Hugo forces its viewers to kneel down as it deep throats them with constant, sappy, and heavy-handed philosophies, The Artist wraps its arm around its viewers and takes them out on a terrific dinner date.

The man of the hour taking everyone out on this date is Jean Dujardin, whose facial expressions and mannerisms are so defined and representative of the 1930s time period his character, silent film star, George Valentin, thrives and struggles in.  Dujardin’s performance, with support of his handsome charm, is magnetic and friendly, while still expressing the powerhouse emotions necessary to carry an entire film, which Jean accomplishes with ease.  His female counterpart, Berenice Bejo, as opposing talkie actress and friend, Peppy Miller, is cute and, well, peppy, who holds her own weight extremely well against the toweringly terrific performance of Dujardin.

The Artist could be easily labeled as a generic Hollywood film with one huge gimmick in its favor, an ignorant and infuriating conclusion that is, in fact, partially true.  Plot-wise, this film is not very original, whatsoever; the story follows the usual rise and demise of a popular silent actor’s career, as “talkies” become the big new thing in Hollywood.  Sounds familiar?  It very well should.  Yet, The Artist is a film that should be observed for the mesmerizing and moving manner in which this story is told.  George’s scene-stealing dog companion, the upliftingly wonderful musical score by Ludovic Bource, and, of course, the refreshing silent aesthetic of The Artist are only a few of its unique story-telling choices and additions.  The silent treatment allows Hazanavicius to manipulate and cleverly toy around with many of the film’s technical aspects, such as sound, filming on actual sets (a staircase sequence with George Valentin exiting his studio’s offices is magnificently old-timey) and dialogue title cards.

The Artist is a truly magical and satisfying film-going experience that will warmly re-introduce film fans to the delights of silent era cinema and treat casual viewers with an expertly told tale of a key chapter in the history of film.  This movie’s emotional core may be a thin one, but the witty, frequent humor, masterful sense of direction, and a wholly impressive ensemble cast more than make up for it:

The Artist is one of the best pictures of 2011.

‘The magnificent cinematic and pop culture return of everyone’s favorite felt friends, starring Jason Segel, Amy Adams, Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, and, brand new Muppet, Walter.’

What do the Muppets mean to us now, in the 21st century? One of the finer pieces of nostalgia created by an imaginative genius that keeps being brought up to sell goods and merchandise to middle-aged fans of the characters in hopes that they’ll buy it only because they’re blinded by the memories of joy they had watching the television programs and films as kids? Well, if you thought something different, unfortunately, your idea is vastly overshadowed by the actual truth I just described. If you were a Muppet not living on Sesame Street for the last few decades or so, you were often misused, violated, and forcefully put on display to whore yourself out for quick, memory-fueled cash out in the hood. I understand this is an introduction far too cynical for a film that doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, but it’s the reality of how the Muppets have been used and abused. It is in that why I must thank Jason Segel, who fought long and hard to preserve the good and magic that is to be found in Jim Henson’s wonderful creations and present it once again to a new generation of fans. Jason Segel wanted to bring back some happiness into the world, and so he enlisted the help of the Muppets. And, golly, did he and the crew succeed, in both creating one of the best films of 2011 and reintroducing the world to one of the happiest things ever in one of the happiest movies to ever be created….. Ever.

The plot for The Muppets is simple: The gang is coming back together for one more show, with some help form a huge fan of the Muppet Show, Walter. Here’s all my praise for 2011’s The Muppets in one sentence: It is pure joy, playfulness, and silliness captured on film. There you have it. The Muppets has a lively, self-aware exuberance about itself that allows it to transcend beyond just being another kid show movie revival, to being a clever, fun-loving family film classic. The film is hysterical, with most muppets having their own moments to shine, all the while backed by an upbeat and Oscar-worthy musical score by Brett McKenzie from Flight of the Conchords. Seriously… “Life’s a Happy Song” is one that I have not been able to get out of my head. Nor do I think should it ever be.
I’ve made The Muppets out to be a perfect film, but it really isn’t. The several plots of the film can get a little sloppy at times, not enough Muppets are properly incorporated nor have jokes that coordinate with their personalities, and Amy Adams’ character, Mary, could’ve been far more developed, but these are all problems that showed themselves weeks after initially watching the film. During the actual viewing experience, I was completely hooked, enchanted by the meta-humor and inviting allure of The Muppets. Okay, maybe not completely: The constant, useless, and distracting cameos, that, had they not been inserted into the film, would’ve made absolutely no difference to the ultimate outcome irked me to no end. Please, if you use such talents as Donald Glover and Neil Patrick Harris, give them something to work with and not just walk in front of the camera to utter an extra’s throwaway lines.
But that’s the extent of my complaints with The Muppets. Honestly, go watch it. It’s one of the most enjoyable and vibrant times at the theaters you’ll have all year. It’s not only perfect family fare, but also perfect comedy and happiness fare.

‘A viral outbreak film by Steven Soderbergh starring an ensemble cast of a ton of famous, talented folk.’

Contagion is a film that tackles the overdone epidemic subplot and transforms it into an entire film.  It follows roughly around 8 different, mostly unrelated characters’ struggles and actions when a deadly, rapidly spreading disease hits the world hard.  Now, it is important that no one misinterprets that synopsis; Contagion is certainly not the Magnolia of disaster movies.  Nor is it even the Love, Actually.

Contagion is the type of film where the viewer can tell that they are watching actors deliver lines, not characters emoting their true feelings and responses.  It is the type of film where the myriad of plot holes are actually steep chasms and cares more about its style than the substance it is presenting.  While the fantastic version of Contagion would create tension that could be sliced with a honed blade and create a fearful, paranoia-ridden atmosphere, the realistic version only achieves at creating a mild riot where the looters have the sniffles.

Fortunately, there are some redeeming factors in Contagion, most notably the fact that this is a very entertaining film.  Sure, there is absolutely no sympathy or connections felt with any of the characters, but Soderbergh really makes the virus’s personal sub-plot stand out, in how he chooses to leave lingering shots of the objects the characters touch and all of the ways that this mystery disease spreads.  The cinematography is terrific and any second of the film can be picked out and framed as a beautiful piece of photography and the imagery is made all the better by a bizarre, yet pleasing Hitchcockian-techno score.

In fact, Contagion as a whole gives off a very bizarre vibe.  There are some aspects of it that just feel….  Off.  Several exchanges of dialogue, especially one between Matt Damon and a doctor delivering some tragic news, are very awkward and blunt, while others are very derivative, cliché discussions of conspiracy and medicine.  Contagion does try very hard to root itself into reality as much as it can, but whenever it even lightly dips its toes into the realm of unrealism, the result is a glaringly obvious head-scratcher.  For example, a character in this film is immune to the killer virus.  No research is done to find out why or how, the films just states that fact and expects not only everyone in this character’s community to with it, but for the viewer to just go with it.  That’s just lazy.  Contagion has an appealing style and is entertaining, but is a very vanilla, ordinary autumn thriller that lacks in thrills.  Expect it to be on HBO twice a day in two years.

‘Kevin Smith’s latest and perhaps most anticipated film that marks his much buzzed about departure from bodily-fluid comedy and into the horror/thriller genre.’

Red State is a catastrophic failure of a film.  It is an awfully ambitious experiment by an attention-seeking director so caught up in his blind aspirations to depart from a certain genre and shock his viewers with horrific imagery that he forgets to actually provide an emotional or rewarding film experience.  This is a film that attempts to vilify both religious fundamentalists and those against them, but never sets down its foot on a certain side; it simply throws ideas at its viewers furiously and messily, but never quite understands which ones it actually wants to stick.  Red State is a film that, by the time it ends, forces you to ponder as to why you took the time and patience to pay any heed to it.

But, before I continue, I suppose it would be of help if I explain the plot for this three-act film.  Red State follows a trio of desperate teenagers plotting to have a threesome with a woman they’ve contacted on the Internet, but are held hostage in the town’s church by a group of over-zealous, religious fanatics, akin to members of the Westboro Baptist Church.  What goes down is a frustrating 80 minutes in which inane, unlikable characters make the most illogical of decisions to the rhythm of awful comedic beats that irritate rather than relieve.

Kevin Smith seems to believe that randomly killing off characters makes for good twists in a story.  He also seems to believe that every character should have a sub-plot totally unrelated to the main story of the film and that each of those character arcs reaches no resolve.  Oh, you know, because that obviously shows off the vulnerability in humanity and how we all leave loose ends.  Sure.   Kevin Smith’s clumsily handled and phenomenally confused retarded brainchild of a film jumps from being an unfunny, raunchy comedy concerned with only delivering its one-liners to an ultra-violent, CGI blood heavy action film to a philosophical commentary, almost surrealist type of a movie.  Despite some great cinematography, a disgustingly grimy mood and setting, and the fact that Smith really does reel his viewers in during the first half of the film, Red State is the result of when the adjectives “pretentious” and “meandering” vomit profusely into each others mouths while holed up inside a church confessional.

And here’s the part that makes me the most upset: I am a huge Kevin Smith fan.  Clerks is in my top 50 favorite films of all time and a majority of his other films hold a very special place in my film-loving heart.  But after watching Red State and recalling all the actions Kevin Smith took to distribute the film and how he praised himself for making the film, my respect for him has degenerated significantly.  Red State doesn’t make you think about society or even religion.  It simply angers you by how haphazardly assembled it is.  The final spoken line of Red State perfectly encompasses my thoughts whilst watching it….

Wait, forget I said that.  Don’t watch this movie.

‘Or, Rise of the Apes, or, my personal favorite, the acronym ROTPOTA, starring Andy Serkis, James Franco, and gangs and hordes of apes courtesy of Weta Digital.’

ROTPOTA is the official 21st century revival of the classic science fiction franchise Planet of the Apes; this installment isn’t a remake of any of the original films, but rather a reworking and retelling of the entire Apes lore. The film follows the growth of Caesar, a chimpanzee under the care of James Franco’s Will Rodman, a scientist working on the cure for Alzheimer’s by testing the potential treatment on apes. After an incident in the San Francisco suburbs that lands Caesar in an ape penitentiary, Caesar’s mass intellect leads him to become the captain of an ape uprising. BAAAAAAAM.
Very few films have as excellent set-up and exposition as this one does; the tight and mostly superb script for Rise of the Apes transforms a preposterous premise of monkeys attacking a city into one that contains genuine emotional weight and power, in which apes stand up against the unjust treatment against them and vie for widespread respect in the modern era urban jungle. Sure, it can be conceived as quite silly, but no idea is far-fetched: in fact, every single new idea that Rise of the Apes conjures is an intriguing plot point or precursor for a development later on in the film. It’s extremely calculated, almost to a fault, since every scene in the movie can be separated into its own video game level; the storytelling in this film is very linear and includes only the essential details that will keep the story moving. This is not a film that allows itself to breathe. This is a film that’s running and pulls off the occasional sprint, but because it is so physically fit, it keeps up its pace beautifully and never begins to breathe heavily or slow down.
Andy Serkis delivers a powerhouse, motion-capture performance as Caesar and, much like his playing as King Kong in 2005, Serkis’s facial expressions and subtle mannerisms shine through wonderfully and form an intricately layered character. The stunning CGI of the film transforms animated primates into living, breathing mammals and the viewers’ sympathies lie in these computer-generated creations; no empathy is shown for the human characters. James Franco, Freida Pinto, and John Lithgow properly and sufficiently play out their characters, but are so stale and uninteresting when in comparison with the apes. There are a few scenes in this film between Casesar and Franco where emotions are supposed to run high, but the relationship between the two is not fleshed out enough for those beats to hit home.
In fact, besides the narrow path the story is told, the film’s major problem is that a majority of the characters in Rise of the Planet of the Apes can be described in three words or less, with the sole exception of Caesar. It isn’t that the supporting characters are stereotypes, it’s just that they are such simple, too easily understandable humans and apes; the main character and plot of ROTPOTA contain a surprising amount of depth, but the same cannot be said for the other players in the film.
While I have been praising this film as an excellent study and character piece, it’s imperative for me to note that this is as much an unrealistic, action-frenzied summer blockbuster. Rise of the Planet of the Apes is fun, it keeps you on the edge of your seat, enthralls, and continues the trend of its franchise of supplying an interesting view on a parallel universe of apes taking over man. This is what summer entertainment is all about.

Bring on the sequels.

‘Ruben Fleischer’s sophomore comedic feature starring a wonderful chemistry between Jesse Eisenberg and Aziz Ansari that I wish was incorporated in a much better film.’

30 Minutes or Less follows 20 something, pizza delivering loser Nick as he is duped and forced into having a bomb strapped to him by two psychotic criminals that want him to rob a bank and obtain $100,000.  Nick brings along his friend, Aziz Ansari, for the ride and shenanigans and funny things happen.  That is a plot with a good bit of potential, but the real event that inspired this film is actually much more fascinating and sheds a bit more of a mean-spirited light onto the film.

Brian Wells, a pizza delivery man of 30 years, was actually in on the robbery the whole time; his part in the heist was to wear a fake bomb and make the cops believe that three black men had forced it onto him.  As it turned out, the bomb was real, but Wells still decided to go on with the story and take the money for himself, or just play innocent and have the bomb squad disable the device.  3 minutes before the bomb squad arrived, the explosive strapped around Wells’ collar detonated.  Now that is a noir plot with even more potential, including twists and turns, an intricate character study, and the fact that crime never prevails.  30 Minutes or Less is the hugely dumbed down, neutered adaptation of that intriguing and often misinterpreted tale of deception and pizza.

As mentioned earlier, the best part of 30 Minutes or Less is the pairing of two wonderful men, Jesse Eisenberg and Aziz Ansari.  Their personalities bounce off each other very well and the more the crime unfolds, the more hilarious their reactions become.  And while most people are holding a grueling vendetta against the man, I still am a big fan of Danny McBride and was not annoyed by him in this film, but his act of constant cursing for comedic effect is dead tired.

One of the big problems with 30 Minutes or Less is how incredibly humdrum it is.  The jokes are standard raunchy fare, breaking absolutely no new ground, but instead retreads ground paved years ago.  This is a movie destined to show up on FX or Comedy Central one Saturday afternoon; that’s not saying the movie’s not funny, for there is certainly a fair share of chuckle-worthy moments, but the mundane standard-ness of the film traps it into the realm of “Meh Comedies.”

What’s worse is the considerable amount of talent in front and behind the camera of this film wasted thanks to the lazy script which, tonally, is all over the place.  One of my main complaints of many of the comedies of 2011 is that they take on rather dark, bleak premises but don’t follow through on the black comedy necessary to warrant the pessimist aura of the movie.  30 Minutes or Less follows through with the black comedy, but does do horribly.  One minute, the film is lighthearted, bomb-toting goofy fun, and then the immediate next, Eisenberg is devastated over the divorce of his parents and that his life may end soon.  None of it works and none of it is balanced, with the plot stretching itself out for far too long.  30 Minutes or Less is the longest 83 minutes I’ve experienced in a while.  Fortunately, the soundtrack for the film is the saving grace and has songs so well chosen and utilized, they practically move the story along by themselves.

With a handful of decent laughs, an ending that makes you ask, “That was it?”, and a couple more handfuls of charismatic and fun performances that barely keep this film above water, 30 Minutes or Less is a film with a take it or leave it tag.  There’s no pain nor is there any gain in watching it.

‘Joe Cornish’s film debut produced by Edgar Wright and starring a cast of unknowns, but I have a feeling that will radically change.’

Attack the Block is a film radiating with passion and fueled by pure, unfiltered high-octane energy.  Attack the Block is a film that exudes disgusting amounts of coolness and confident swagger.  Attack the Block is a film that will create future cinephiles and film fans and become one of the greatest cult classics of all time.  Attack the Block is that awesome.

So what’s it all about?  Attack the Block follows a small gang of young street punks in South London that come across an alien life-form after it crash lands from the sky.  After killing it, because that’s what all teenagers must do when encountered with a hostile space alien, more of the same four-legged aliens come crashing down to Earth, with pitch-black fur and luminous blue teeth all intending to attack these kids and their apartment block in a fight between rudeboys and big alien gorilla wolf motherfuckers.

Now here’s the thing: Every single bit, piece, and second of Attack the Block is perfection.  Absolute, blissful, jovial perfection.  This is as effective as entertainment can be, in not only delivering hysterical laughs, but also genuine heart and emotion, exceptional escapism, terrifying thrills, and giddy, gory violent delight; there are many deaths, and none of them are tame.

The performances from the first-time, teenage actors are phenomenal and they all add staggering amounts of charisma and personality to their already extremely well written characters.  Although they mug a woman very early on in the film and are juvenile delinquents, the main characters grow on you as the film progresses and, by the end, you are certain to have developed some form of attachment to each of them.  Our main heroes have their own distinct character traits and the film provides satisfactory back-stories and deepened insights into each of their identities simply by showing glimpses of their apartments.  Just…  Remarkable.

The aliens of Attack the Block not only look terrific, but they are completely menacing and frightening.  Watching our heroes fend off against one is nerve-wracking enough, but once these critters arrive in packs, the results are mind-bogglingly intense.  The movie definitely doesn’t hide its creatures and displays them in all of their black wooly glory.  Attack the Block does a magnificent job in properly balancing its two styles, one a teenage-hang out comedy piece and the other a balls-out, alien invasion horror film, in a harmonious medley of science fiction, comedy, and action; thanks, incredible script!  Lacing the film is an extraordinary musical score by Steven Price, Felix Buxton, and Simon Ratcliffe that deftly blends the sounds of dub-steppy electronic tunes and a booming blockbuster orchestra to create the best musical score of 2011.

The one observation that may be defined as a tiny quibble I have with this paragon of cinema is that I can’t fully back the statement that this is a film “like never seen before.”  Although the two are absolutely differing and unique films, several aspects of Attack the Block are strikingly similar to Edgar Wright’s debut feature Shaun of the Dead, for example, not only in combining two well-defined and differing genres but also in the way it allows the viewer to grow more attached to the characters and having its deadly creatures spare no one.  Nevertheless, Attack the Block is a creative beast of its own and this trivial inspection should not veer away anyone from it.  This film is too good for my pretentious study of its mechanics.

Attack the Block….  My goodness.  This is a film packed with so much innovation, flair, and, most importantly, fun.  In the end, Attack the Block is so much jolly fun.  Not only is this film my favorite of 2011, but it has quickly become a prominent title in my favorite films of all time.  To Joe Cornish, Edgar Wright, John Boyega, and every single individual involved in the creation and development of this film, every rigger and actor: Thank you.

‘A Jon Favreau hootenanny starring Daniel Craig, Harrison Ford, Olivia Wilde, and a title that explains the basis of the film’s plot.’

Whenever the trailers or even mentioning of the title for the film Cowboys and Aliens would be brought up, the immediate response from audiences was never rejoice and excitement; even now, the reaction is still scoffing and snickering.  Understandably so, I mean what’s next?  Horses and Dolphins?  It takes quite a taxing suspension of disbelief to even come close to enjoying any portion of this film, a gold mine of lost potential.

Cowboys and Aliens has an impressive cast, from the likes of big stars Craig and Ford to smaller scale character actors such as Sam Rockwell and Paul Dano, all actors with incredible talent.  Unfortunately, the characters in this film are not worthy of their portrayers.  The cowboys are badly fleshed out, with feeble attempts at back-stories for each of them.  Everyone in this film has the capacity to be cooler than ice and memorable characters, but their personal biographies are disjointed, as if the characters are unfinished templates of an amazing finished product.  Take Daniel Craig’s Jake for example: In one scene, he is the Man with No Name, answering questions with his bullets and laser blasts.  In the scene directly afterwards, he’s a normal man, humble as can be, and has no real sense of direction.  His character’s personality is horrifyingly uneven, and the film has no efficient way of justifying it.

The aliens, the film’s main foes, follow today’s trend of having extraterrestrials take the form of monstrous CGI beasts and look like if one made a fish, a googly-eyed puppy, and an alien from Independence Day screw at once, and then gave the offspring an entire jar of steroids.  These aliens look menacing from behind, but once they turn and reveal the huge eyes bugging out of their fish-like faces, the effect is laughable.

Hey, but at least there’s over-the-top, silly action in a movie called Cowboys and Aliens, right?  Well, yeah, pretty much.  Whenever there is action, it looks pretty cool and there are explosions and deaths galore; it can be incredibly fun, especially whenever the focus is on Daniel Craig’s action sequences.  Him fighting off aliens, punching the living daylights out of bandits, and shooting down ships is spectacular and showcases all of the good this film has to offer.

Yet, this film often takes itself a bit too seriously and attempts to sink itself into reality, but fails tragically at doing so.  If you call your movie Cowboys and Aliens, you are not allowed to have your film’s tone delve into complete somberness; it’s cinema suicide.  At the same time, the cowboys hardly question what forces of evil they are going against, and immediately after the initial alien attack, a majority of the town rides off into the sunset to retrieve their kin.  It is strange and unintentionally meta, for it feels like the characters of this film recognize the film’s title, and accept the fact from the very beginning that they will be facing off against aliens.

As a western, Cowboys and Aliens is as straightforward and as cliché as a plain western can possibly be.  As an alien invasion film, it’s unsatisfying.  In the two genres Cowboys and Aliens attempts to mesh, both come off as just meh.  And the ultimate product is one huge lame pile of meh.  The script is weak, the characters are not worth caring for, and it overstays its welcome at 118 minutes.

When Cowboys and Aliens gets something right, the results are splendid, but this is one of the more upsetting cases in which the bad outweighs the good.

‘The final act of the most consistently terrific movie series ever created starring our usual gang of muggles and wizards.’

After over a decade of Harry Potter media and lore, the Deathly Hallows Part 2 not only concludes its own film, The Deathly Hallows, but the entire series. This film is an emotionally draining experience for die-hard fans of the story and one that so many consider the bookend of their childhood.  Corpses litter the hallways of Hogwarts and hordes of evildoers swarm the battlefield and dangerously outnumber our heroes: the images here are bleak and intimidating, complete with a color palette filled with grays and darks.  So long happy times casting spells; ‘tis the end.

Our three protagonists give it their all, and the characters of Harry Potter, Ron Weasly, and Hermione Granger have never been more fleshed out, thanks to their respective portrayers Radcliffe, Grint, and Watson.  The same can be said for all members of the cast, but Alan Rickman gains my particular praise: more information about Severus Snape’s motives are revealed and a memory flashback that centers around him is not only one of the best parts of the film, but perhaps the most powerful.  Rickman’s heartfelt side is on amazing display here, but I really wish his screen time were extended.

With all the discussion of brooding dread, it should be noted that Deathly Hallows Part 2 is a magnificent action film, deftly blending the epic scope of its battles with up-close and personal duels and curse-chanting chaos.  There is a stunning scene midway in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione are running through the battlefield, narrowly dodging the attacks of trolls, Death-Eaters, and assorted creatures from the past films all making a return for one last battle that terrifies and thrills as much as it feeds the desire for spectacular action.  Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is the ultimate climax.

As an entertainment experience, Deathly Hallows Part 2 is near perfect.  It is a superbly paced, exciting action film with passion, suspense, and a wonderfully told story.  Yet, this is no perfect film.  Nor is it a perfect finale.  Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is a great conclusion to the Harry Potter story.  The same cannot be said about the characters of the canon.

One of my absolute favorite facets of the Potter saga has always been the plethora of fascinating and fun characters it has always thrown the viewers’ way, but my most favorite characters received the most half-hearted of final moments.  Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Hagrid, and bevy of other fan favorites are sent off in lackluster fashion, with their last scenes either lacking in sentimentality and satisfaction or a lack of a final send-off whatsoever.  As important as the story is to this series, it’s the characters that made us come back for more, and this film does not follow through on giving us a proper good-bye to our old friends.

I left the theater for this Harry Potter film in a lukewarm state, for I was gratified by the winding and terrific story, but freezing from the lack of closure I had with these characters.  If Part 1 and Part 2 of Deathly Hallows were released as one, the result would most definitely be one of the defining epics of our time.  If only the characters were sent off in a more tender manner, I would be comfortable saying that Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a masterpiece in action, fantasy, and blockbuster cinema.

‘The third entry in the big budget film franchise directed by the now infamous Michael Bay starring hordes of unidentifiable robots and a trio of horrendous president impersonators.’

The Transformers series is one I approach with complete indifference and occasional scorn; the only film I’ve seen previously was the abysmal Revenge of the Fallen from 2009, a movie experience so poor and embarrassing, it deadened any possible positive expectations I could have for a bound for success sequel.  Two years later, Mr. Michael Bay has graced the world with yet another overly-long, painfully unfunny, and special effects laden robotic romp through D.C. and Chicago that involves not only the 1960s Space Race, but heaps of other complete and utter B.S. storylines that draw away from what anyone would pay and watch a Transformers film for: action.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon clocks at a whopping 157 minutes.  100 of those minutes are spent on our protagonist, Sam Witwicky, struggling at job interviews in a comedic montage, supporting his new, freakishly gorgeous girlfriend, and dealing with a new, tyrannical office manager.  Awkwardly edited in between pop songs and workplace farce are the potentially interesting missions that the Autobots follow through to assist the U.S. Army in protecting the world: it’s just too bad that those scenes run far too short and are sidetracked far too often by unnecessarily dialogue-heavy breaks.  The entire first 100 minutes of this film is completely disjointed, with the movie lacking any flow and convinces you that the rest of the film will not fair well.  At all.

One hour and forty minutes in, I was convinced that I was watching one of the absolute worst films of 2011.  But all of a sudden, the film stripped down to its purest basics.  Essential characters, a primary objective, a single dilemma, and some of the most spectacular action ever seen on the big screen.  The final hour occurred.

The finale for Transformers: Dark of the Moon is one of the greater in recent memory.  It is a beautiful and blissfully epic series of metal clashing, slicing, and blasting ever so violently.  The action is shot perfectly, as it looks not jumpy and totally visible, but still has a necessary franticness that increases the excitement and stakes.  The set pieces are breathtaking and the Transformers themselves, though still mostly undistinguishable from each other, look quite terrific.  The special effects meld the humans with the computer-generated imagery and destruction splendidly well.  The last hour of Transformers: Dark of the Moon is action at its finest and most technologically barbaric.

Yet, here’s the kicker: Even if the finale for this film partially blew me away, I cannot find myself recommending this movie even when I so easily can.  The length of Transformers: Dark of the Moon really kills all possible momentum and Bay includes the most menial and pointless scenes to pad a film out that requires no padding.  Transformers needs exciting, viewable action and little context so that an uncomplicated goal is striven for.  The fact that this film and franchise is so determined to deliver its overly-complex plot with twists and turns that don’t quite affect a single bit of the outcome is frustrating and that first 100 minutes is a genuine waste of time.  The soundtrack is horrible, the actors are sub-par, the pacing is awful, and the script is all over the place.  But once the final hour comes….   Badass.  Super badass.  Had this movie been trimmed down 50 minutes, I could very happily helm this as the action event of the summer.

But I won’t.