Feature - 10 Best Movie Monsters

The following are my selections for 10 Best Movie Monsters in no particular order. To qualify as a monster, the creature cannot be played by a human and must have been created using almost exclusively special effects. This rules out several obvious choices such as Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolf Man but allows the inclusion of some much more interesting selections. I have tried to select the first incarnation of each monster although the remakes are just as frightening, if not more so. Feel like I forgot one? Comment and let me know!

1. King Kong (1933) – directed by Merian C. Cooper and Ernest Schoedsack

2. The Monster from Cloverfield (2008) - directed by Matt Reeves

3. The Ants from Them (1954) - directed by Gordon Douglas

4. Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars (1977) - directed by George Lucas

5. The Gremlins (1984) - directed by Joe Dante

6. Godzilla (1954) - directed by Ishiro Honda

7. Kraken from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006) - directed by Gore Verbinski

8. Alien (1979) - directed by Ridley Scott

9. Bugs from The Mist (2007) - directed by Frank Darabont

10. Tyrannosaurus Rex from Jurassic Park (1993) - directed by Steven Spielberg

Review - Sunshine

Danny Boyle's Sunshine is destined to be one of the most criminally underappreciated films of the sci-fi genre. Boyle once again proves that he is a genius cameraman and that he has the visual style and proficiency to make any genre his own.
The film follows a group of eight men and women on board the Icarus II, a ship sent into space to detonate a massive bomb which will reignite the dying sun after the first mission failed seven years earlier. This idea alone would translate into a fascinating movie but Boyle and Screenwriter Alex Garland aren't happy with just a run of the mill science fiction adventure. "We wanted to make the film as psychological a journey as possible" Boyle said in an interview with MTV movies. "There is the question about what happens to your mind when you meet the creator of all things in the universe, which for some people is a spiritual, religious idea, but for other people it is a purely scientific idea. We are all made up of particles of exploded star, so what would it be like to get close to the Sun, the star from which all the life in our solar system comes from?"
It's this extra layer of philosophy that makes this movie so great. It's not a story about a journey to the sun, it is a story about a group of men and women who encounter, for lack of a better word, God. Every weakness and fissure in the group, in effect, every sin is illuminated in the revealing light of the creator.
Boyle and Director of Photography Alwin Kuchler prove themselves to be revolutionary filmmakers creating imagery which rivals that of the Aronofsky masterpiece The Fountain. They have done away with the CGI feel of science fiction and created a realistic, organic environment on board the Icarus, which mirrors the claustrophobic anxiety of the film's characters. There is no jumping to light speed in Sunshine, and we don't see stars whizzing past the convenient portholes of the ship. Rather, viewers are treated to extended, loving shots of celestial bodies drifting about the ship. The effect is to create, in the viewer, the same sense of awe that is embodied in the characters of the film.
Sunshine is also commendable for its inspired use of light. It's not difficult to create an atmosphere of fear in the darkness, by playing on the unknown. However, Boyle manages to make us feel fear in the face of the exact opposite: the known. He manages to make the penetrating, all-revealing light of the sun the scariest, most disconcerting force in any sci-fi film yet.
Much has been said about the decision to reveal an additional protagonist in the third act of the film, most of it negative. However, I find it to have been an inspired move. Yes, it changed the feel of the film and had that change been unintentional, it would have significantly detracted from it. However, it is clear that it was not. The seeds for the inclusion of the fifth crew member are planted early in the story and his appearance triggers a change in Boyle's technique. The movie, which had been constructed of thoughtful deliberate camera movements until this key moment suddenly becomes a disorienting, frenetic mess. However, mess by no means indicates disorder. Every move by Boyle is carefully planned out to reflect both the physical reality of a trip into the sun and the metaphysical reality of the characters encounter with the source of life.
Plus, it is an absolutely necessary meditation on one of the possible outcomes of an encounter with the highest power: madness.
Boyle proves that he understands the psychological impact of film more than any other director out there right now, even going so far as to implant nearly subliminal pictures of the murdered crew from the first Icarus in between frames of the derelict ship, Exorcist-style. Most of the audience probably wouldn't even notice but for those that do, it is one of the most unsettling film sequences in recent memory. He evokes a certain style, reminiscent of M. Night Shymalan, in which even the perfectly ordinary conveys a distinct feeling of fear, isolation and anxiety.
Despite the genius of Boyle and Garland, this movie would fail without solid performances from the cast. Fortunately, every member of the small cast turns in an excellent performance. Cillian Murphy and Chris Evans, probably the most recognizable of the familiar faces on board Icarus, prove that they are multi-faceted actors capable of completely disappearing into their characters.
It's difficult to explain the effect that Sunshine had on me as a viewer. For much of the film, I wasn't sure that I understood what was happening but nonetheless I couldn't deny that I was bearing witness to something spectacular. Sunshine forced upon me the memory of what a great film could accomplish; it proves that there is unadulterated power in image and story. Unfortunately, it also proves that this world is never going to get it right when this modern masterpiece barely clears $3 million at the box office even though it probably deserved to be awarded best picture.

Screenshot - - - Big Fish

Because sometimes a picture can say it all...

Review - Untraceable

Untraceable, starring Diane Lane, is a film mired in poor storytelling, although it's hard to tell whether the fault lies with the director or the screenwriter. A cyber-savvy killer has created an internet site to facilitate death for his victims in proportion to the number of people who visit the site. Lane stars as Agent Marsh, a cyber-crimes expert for the FBI, who is the head investigator for the case. I would describe it as Silence of the Lambs meets Saw, if that weren't far too glowing of a recommendation for the predictable fare forced on the audience by Director Gregory Hoblit.
Clunky, forced exposition weigh the movie down from the very beginning resulting in superfluous scenes that virtually stop the movie in its tracks. One such scene consists of Agent Marsh (Lane) using her OnStar console for the sole purpose of complaining that she is stuck behind an accident. This wholly unnecessary scene doesn't pay off until the final few minutes of the film, when the killer hijacks her car's computer and begins his final ambush. I don't give movie-going audiences much credit, especially when movies like 300 Spartans are number 1 at the box office, but I don't think the acceptance of OnStar in an FBI Agent's car would have been difficult for anyone without the spoon-feeding of information in this earlier scene. Missteps like these abound throughout the film.
Furthermore, Hoblit's shoddy camera work distracts from nearly every scene. One notable scene, which should have been the emotional climax of Lane's character, in which she has a breakdown in the shower was almost indecipherable to viewers because the camera hovered somewhere near the ceiling and left the subject in the corner of the frame, out of focus. It seems like a waste of a talented actress to relegate her to a blurry flesh-colored mass in the corner of the screen. It is clear, throughout the film, that Hoblit's is more concerned with originality than conveyance of plot or emotion.
With all that said, I feel compelled to mention that the film has a brilliant premise with dozens of opportunities for social commentary on the voyeuristic aspects of the contemporary world. Plus, it features some really interesting death scenes. (You know, if you're into that sort of thing.) Unfortunately, the script's logic, or lack thereof, doesn't support the basic premise. It's like a one-trick pony and 3/4 of the trick happens backstage. It would be interesting to see what a director like Wes Craven, someone who understands the importance of atmosphere and who gives their audience just a little bit of credit, could have done with this idea. Unfortunately, in the hands of Hoblit, it just can't be called a success.

Review - Fool's Gold

Fool's Gold isn't a bad movie, nor is it a good movie. As a matter of fact, by tomorrow I will probably have forgotten that it exists at all. The plot is paper-thin, consisting of an estranged couple who decide to give love one last try while they try to unearth the Queen's Dowry, a famed treasure that went down on a ship just outside the Florida Keys. They enlist the help of an adventurous billionaire and his slutty teenage daughter and face off against another treasure hunter and a rapper mogul, Bigg Bunny. (no really, that's his name!) These plot details don't really scream genius screenplay, but one could hope for the sort of quirky charm that Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts achieved in The Mexican. Unfortunately, one would also be sorely disappointed as Gold is much more Into the Blue than The Mexican.

In the film, Tess (Hudson) is told it was a mistake to marry a guy for the sex, and expect him to be smart. Audiences will feel the same way: It's a mistake to go to this film for the sexy stars and expect an intelligent screenplay. Director Andy Tennant makes no attempt to convince audiences that his film is about anything more than a shirtless McConaughey.

Review - Halloween

Some people hate the very idea of a remake, regardless of the quality of the direction or the story. Rob Zombie’s Halloween isn’t likely to change their minds. The movie itself isn’t terrible. Actually, it’s a pretty decent slasher flick. Unfortunately, it completely destroys the legacy that John Carpenter created when he crafted the original film in 1978. That is this movie’s biggest weakness.
The original Halloween was an inspiration to filmmakers. Whether it was due to the iconic theme music, the inspired opening credits or the unprecedented use of the first-person camera, Carpenter’s film is still firmly embedded in any cinephile’s mind as one of the most exceptional feats of camerawork and direction in film history.
I happen to like remakes, as long as they bring something new to the story, unlike Van Sant’s 1998 shot-for-shot remake of another horror classic, Psycho. Zombie doesn’t shy away from bringing new material to the story of Michael Myers. Unfortunately, everything that he adds is utter crap.
The biggest part of Myer’s appeal is the mystery. Carpenter portrays him as a lurking evil, driven by some unknown motivation. He appears on the edge of the screen and consequently on the fringes of our imagination. Zombie chooses to remove the mystique and turn Myers into just another unpopular, abused, little fat kid who turns into a killer. He removes, literally, everything that makes Michael Myers who he is.
On its own, outside of the glorious Halloween tradition, Zombie’s film is actually worthy of some merit. Zombie’s visual acuity and unique horror style is even further refined than his previous movies; he manages some truly frightening images. Furthermore, he does an excellent job of fleshing out some of the relationships between characters that Carpenter’s movie didn’t have time for, most notably that of Michael and Dr. Loomis.
Zombie also seems to have quite the talent for eliciting performances from his actors and actresses. Every character in the film is fully realized and each performance has enough substance to support the dark subject matter. The only flaw in regards to character development is the absolutely terrible dialogue. Any prowess Zombie may possess with a camera, he lacks as a writer. The studio should have known there were major problems when Dr. Loomis sums up the intentions of one of the most memorable and maniacal characters in all of cinematic history by saying “I don’t know what he’s going to do; but it’s not going to be good.”