Black Swan is a beautiful, poetic film that manages to surpass expectations through unforgettable images, an unbelievable performance, and exquisite direction, all of which that propel the film beyond its somewhat-ordinary premise.

Black Swan rests upon an incredible performance from Natalie Portman, who plays Nina, an experienced ballet dancer who lives with her mother (Barbara Hershey) in New York. Her company is preparing for a production of Swan Lake, the famous ballet by Tchaikovsky in which a princess is transformed into a beautiful white swan. The story ends as her true love is stolen from her by the black swan, and the protagonist takes her own life. The trick is that one ballerina must play both parts: the graceful, precise White Swan as well as the unpredictable, sensuous Black Swan. And although Nina is perfect for the White Swan, she lacks the passion required for the other half of the part, which is a great fit for Lily (Mila Kunis), a newcomer who quickly grabs the attention of the director (Vincent Cassel).

The bulk of the film rests upon Portman’s shoulders alone, who is definitely up to the task. The rest of the cast are also great, but don’t have nearly as much screentime. The movie is really a character study of Nina, and follows her transformation, both literally and figuratively. Portman is not only perfect for the meek, fragile girl that the main character begins as, but also shows her versatility as Nina explores a darker side of herself. More impressive is how much of her performance is non-verbal. For many scenes in which she is by herself we must rely on facial expressions and body language to understand the character’s feelings. This subtle touch really makes Nina stand out as her own character and externalizes Nina’s feelings so that the audience can understand the motivations and conflicts that drive her. The sheer physicality of the role is also an extraordinary feat. Portman and Kunis both must act as well as perform ballet alongside world-class dancers. This normally requires years of training, but these two actresses were able to master convincing ballet in just a few months.

And the ballet elements are vital to the film. The incredible choreography of the ballet is there not only for spectacle, but compliments the main story. From the opening dream sequence all the way to the thrilling conclusion, director Darren Aronofsky and director of photography Matthew Libatique imbue the film with beauty and an unmistakeable energy. The ballet sequences are particularly spectacular, as the camera weaves its way in and out of the dancers, taking the audience on-stage with the performers. The film takes the art form of ballet and enhances it by filming it in an exciting, energetic way. The direction is also key in providing the mystical, eerie feeling that pervades the film. The grainy quality that only real film can provide makes the movie look rough, yet beautiful. The psychological thriller elements, specifically the way in which we see Nina’s mind deteriorate is not entirely unique, but are sufficiently unnerving and suspenseful. The music also serves to drive the story. The classical music utilized in the film further creates the feeling that the entire film is itself a ballet. The film’s incredible performances are only magnified by the beautiful images and classical score.

On the surface, the film is a very good psychological thriller but its universal themes are what propel Black Swan to greatness. As the ballet Swan Lake shows through into Nina’s life, it comments upon her state of mind. The movie takes on an interesting dimension as Swan Lake not only serves as an allegory for Nina’s journey but the film itself is also an adaptation of Tchaikovsky’s ballet. The film explores questions of reality and identity through a fantastical premise. The difficulty is in externalizing the psychological issues that are at the heart of the story, but the film has no trouble in doing so. The film is entertaining as a thriller but also is stimulating intellectually. The main themes of the movie are identity and reality, both of which are dealt with masterfully.

Mirrors play a vital role throughout the movie – from the makeup mirrors backstage, to the huge walls of mirrors in the studio, to Nina’s bathroom mirror – the film is littered with mirrors. This points to ultimate question of identity that Nina must face. She sees herself reflected so much, as she tries be one person, but who is she really? The doubles that she sees following her also point to her deteriorating mental state. Her feeling of being fragmented is represented to the audience not as unrealistic dialogue but as exciting, suspenseful imagery. This intellectual backbone of the film makes the otherwise ordinary thriller tropes present in the movie into something much more meaningful and interesting.

In the film, the line between reality and fantasy is intentionally blurred, and eventually disappears altogether. At first, one constantly tries to figure out what is real and what is not, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Instead of giving an easy answer, the movie disregards the distinction between real and non-real. What “really happened” doesn’t matter. The film portrays both sides of the story – the literal and the figurative – and the two are blended perfectly. Because there is no “answer”, many viewers will be put off by the film, but by leaving it open you are forced to actively engage with the movie rather than just sit back and relax.

Black Swan is a movie that hits you hard. It is visceral, exciting, suspenseful, beautiful, and thought-provoking. Go in with an open mind and you will be in for a wonderful film rife with beautiful images, extraordinary acting, and plenty to think about well after you leave the theater.

Rating: ★★★★★ 

Let Me In may star two extremely talented child actors, but it is definitely not a movie for kids. Director Matt Reeves doesn’t pull any punches in this violent remake of the acclaimed Swedish vampire film, Let the Right One In.

Let Me In delves deep into the somewhat troubled psyches of two young people in New Mexico during the early 80′s. The boy, Owen, is severly bullied at school and spends most of his time by himself. Then he meets Abby, a mysterious girl who moves into his apartment building. They gradually become friends, but the fact that she’s a vampire severely complicates the whole situation.

Keep in mind that this is a review of Let Me In alone. I intentionally avoided seeing Let the Right One In in order to go into the remake completely fresh.

The core of the film is the relationship between Abby and Owen. Despite all the supernatural events that surround them, the film focuses solely on this pivotal relationship. The entire movie is shot from the kids’ perspectives, which really makes you identify with them and their feelings. The adults, save for an important few, have little impact on the story, leaving the entire film resting on the two young actors’ shoulders. And up to the task they are. Although we’ve seen Chloe Moretz break out in (500) Days of Summer and get violent in Kick-Ass, she continues her upward climb with another solid outing as the young vampire. The stand-out here, however, is Kodi Smit-McPhee, whose fantastic performance really makes the film. Although we had previous seen him in The Road, this film gives him a chance to really have an entire two hours to showcase his acting chops. Earlier this year, The Last Airbender almost killed all of my hope in child actors but Let Me In shows how a skilled director can get magnificent performances from his entire cast.

Director Matt Reeves, who helmed the 1996 independent film The Pallbearer starring David Schwimmer, co-created Felicity with J.J. Abrams, and most recently helmed the hand-held monster film Cloverfield, is quickly establishing himself as an extremely talented filmmaker. In addition to extracting brilliant performances all-around, he also showcases a great eye for beautiful composition that he couldn’t showcase with Cloverfield. Beginning with the opening long shot of the ambulance traveling through the snow, the entire film is shot mainly in whites and reds, all with a certain melancholy aspect. The low camera angles are essential in keeping the movie told from the kids’ point-of-view. Each and every scene is imbued with a certain ambiance that creates a wonderful, coherently creepy feel throughout the film.

The director also shows how to create an extremely suspenseful film. From the first scene of the movie, the audience knows they are in for a really scary film. Don’t misunderstand, Let Me In is definitely more a horror film than a thriller. Produced by Hammer Films (who produced many classic horror films during the 30′s, 40′s, and 50′s), this movie is filled with blood and gore and it doesn’t shy away from showing everything. However, it doesn’t rely on cheap scares but rather each scene slowly builds to create excellent suspense. Add to this the eerie atmosphere that pervades the entire story and you have yourself one terrifying film.

Still, what really shines through are the characters of Owen and Abby, the choices they make, and their relationship with each other. The film is unflinching in its presentation of a very dark childhood that these kids go through. Owen and Abby are presented as much too psychologically burdened than kids of their age should be. In addition, the message that the film’s conclusion presents is troubling and thought-provoking. I can’t discuss specifics without delving into spoiler territory, but know that the themes of revenge, trust, and love are very adult. The way the movie makes you think well after you’ve seen it is a mark of how good it is.

Let Me In takes an intriguing premise and delivers a great film that makes you really think while providing a solid vampire horror film all driven by brilliant performances and great direction. If you’re looking for a good scare this weekend and you want to be engrossed in a fantastic love story devoid of romantic tropes, definitely go see Matt Reeves’ Let Me In (or Let the Right One In if you have Netflix and want to save some cash).

Rating: ★★★★½ 

The official trailer for The Debt has debuted. Check it out after the jump:

The Debt tells the story of three Mossad spies (Jessica Chastain, Sam Worthington, Marton Csokas) who attempt to capture and bring to trial the Surgeon of Birkenau, a Nazi war criminal, but something goes wrong. 30 years later, the doctor resurfaces, and the they (Hellen Mirren, Ciaran Hinds, Tom Wilkinson) must relive the trauma from so long ago. John Madden directs a Matthew Vaughn & Jane Goldman and Peter Straughan script, which is a remake of the film Ha-Hov by Assaf Bernstein and Ido Rosenblum.

This is the first I’ve seen of this film, and it has me really looking forward to it. When I first read about the movie, it sounded like another Sam Worthington-lead action flick, which was not appealing. This is definitely not another Clash of the Titans. I love the split narrative, with the adults reliving what happened to them 30 years ago and it doesn’t appear to be simple flashbacks. I hope the story unfolds from both time periods at once. This film has potential to be a fantastic spy thriller.

The Debt hits theaters October 10th.

Earthling
Director: Clay Liford   
Showtimes: Saturday 8th, 6:30 pm at the USB Student Center; Sunday 9th, 4:30 pm at The Charles Theater
Starring:Rebecca Spence, Peter Greene, Amelia Turner, William Katt, Matt Socia, Savanna Sears, Jennifer Sipes, Chris Doubek
 AP Rating:

Rating: ★★★½☆ 

The opening shots of Clay Liford’s Earthling hold a mysterious, tantalizing splendor; a foreboding, spiked meteor hurtles through space like an intergalactic seed pod, comes in contact with a space station just outside of our planet’s atmosphere.

These initial scenes aboard the American space station have a dingy, lived-in feel and they instantly evoke Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris and set the tone for the rest of the pic. Traditionalist sci-fi fans have been warned; this isn’t a glossy pulp monster tale, but a solemn meditation on human existence and relationship.

 After that, Liford explores a winding, contrived mystery that takes the kind of genre elements geeks drool over—otherworldly visitors, slimy parasites, genetic mutation—and folds them into a drama that has its eyes wide open when it comes to observing the rhythm of life on our little blue orb.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I found the film slight and unsteady the first time through, balking at the austere narrative that Liford provides and frustrated by the lack of detail in the sci-fi set-up. Instead of a fully formed story, what we get is a series of beautiful images,  intimate human moments and more than an earful of arcane, vague dialogue detailing the truth behind the mysterious space object and the strangers on Earth who are affected by its arrival.

A second viewing reveals not only a hidden layer of sensitivity and thoughtfulness, but also unearths Liford’s real agenda, which extends beyond the desire to drop a fast-food thrill ride in the audience’s lap. Instead, like all good science fiction, Earthling takes its collection of ideas and events and turns them inward, pointing them like a hi-tech ray-gun, right back at us. Questions of personal identity, familial connection and concepts of universal morality rise to the surface, and when they do, Earthling is transformed from a wobbly, unsuccessful thriller into a compelling, authentic tone poem, worthy of its SF fore-bearers.

Pulling together a well-cast group of actors, Liford proves more interested in how his characters feel than the ultimate logic of the secrets they are trying to uncover. Typically in these films, outer-space invaders have one of two agendas; conquer/eat/enslave or communicate/collaborate. Liford, drawing on the protagonists of Nic Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth and John Sayles’ Brother From Another Planet, finds a third possibility, and what follows has twice the emotional impact of your average episode of V or all of Independence Day.

Fans of David Cronenberg and his obsession with body horror will appreciate that not all of this is stationary nature photography or stage-play conversational scenes. Images of something small and bloody making its way through the muddy earth or a young girl pulling back her hair to reveal the growths on her scalp recall that Canadian auteur of the biologically grotesque, and I think he would be more than a bit amused by what Earthling has to offer.

Ultimately, even after a second watch, Earthling is still a little too obscure for its own good, and the ideas it introduces are never full delivered on. Personally, I wanted to know more about the method and nature of the mysterious sphere, and where it was going.

Still, when the film focuses its energies on exploring the inner feelings and suspicions of its grounded extraterrestrials, it achieves the intrinsic goal of the genre; it places all of our finite longings and petty concerns into the context of a larger universe, and then argues for their merit. That’s not a slight job for a film featuring alien space slugs.

Get information on buying tickets for Earthling’s Baltimore premeire at the Maryland Film Festival HERE.

Think of it as ‘The Bourne Locker’. Director Paul Greengrass (United 93) and his action muse Matt Damon have teamed up a third time to bring us The Green Zone, a frenzied, fast-paced war thriller that races through the turbulent streets of Baghdad looking for elusive WMDs.

It’s probably fortunate for Damon and the gang that this is opening in the wake of Bigelow’s Oscar win, because they are going to need that initial interest. Once you’ve seen The Green Zone, you aren’t likely to think much on it either way.

The Green Zone is a fictional adventure based off of the details collected in Imperial Life in the Emerald City, a book by former Washington Post writer Rajiv Chandrasekaran. Chandrasekaran’s book and Greengrass’ film return to the milieu of Iraq in 2003 and casts a long look at the invasion itself and the faulty intel that brought it about.

All these years later, I imagine there are few that will argue that a mistake was made in regards to pinpointing the existence of those weapons in Iraq. Placing exact blame on the factors responsible is harder. What The Green Zone argues is that manipulation and conspiracy exist at the center, and a complex plot is married to typical action clichés to make the story palatable for an audience that goes to the movies to be entertained.

Greengrass understands that last point, and that this is largely the reason previous war films backfired. They were showing up to kick and pull at a wound still fresh in the mind of many Americans, and stab, stab, stab at a subject that not even all are in agreement on. The Hurt Locker worked because of its distance from the political machinations on high and its closeness to the actual soldier down on the ground, ducking and covering.

What Greengrass misses, however, is that Bigelow was working to tell a unique story with action tools, not cleverly cloud a heated political message with Jason Bourne charging through the Middle-East on a mission of righteous indignation, followed by a camera that appears to be tethered to a tilt-a-whirl.

The movie is not a bad one, however, and it does work as a rather breathless thrill ride, at least for a while. Damon plays Roy Miller, the chief warrant officer in Baghdad after the U.S. occupation. Miller is responsible for tracking down the WMDs and with each new, failed attempt to find anything he’s growing more and more impatient. Much of this has to do with the fact his team is sustaining casualties as they proceed. Miller is getting conflicted information too; bureaucrat Clark Poundstone (Greg Kinnear) is insistent that the intelligence they have is correct while a CIA agent, Mark Brown, tells Roy that they aren’t going to find any WMDs at any of the sites and that the alleged informant ‘Magellan’ is a ruse.

The story that follows is a labyrinthine track through the turbulent world of Iraq after the liberation a jaunt through all kinds of political skullduggery with Damon’s Miller at the very heart of it, plunging in to discover, if he can, where the truth actually lies. Eventually Miller finds himself being shot at by his own men, and when he goes on the run, things heat up. Greengrass has visually designed The Green Zone as less in-your-face and aggressive than his previous two Bourne movies, but it fails to really capture the structure and reality of United 93, his compelling look at the occupants of that fateful flight on 9/11. The camera moves less, but there’s still the shaky, agitated cam movements that are starting to lose any interest or impact they might have had these days. What he does get right is the pacing.

This is a terrifically tense film for almost of all its running time, and regardless of political positions or affiliations, viewers will be drawn in by Miller’s quest and the twists and turns that he encounters. It’s hard to argue with an action movie well done and a charismatic, focused lead. Damon works in this role because he worked as Bourne, and he uses that performance and character as shorthand to get the audience on his side and believe he’s a man of action capable of the things he’s doing in this movie.

What ultimately strands me though is the shifting focus of the film. While it’s approached as a direct indictment of the administration of the time, and as a kind of ‘real life’ conspiracy theory, Greengrass and his screenwriter Brian Helgeland don’t allow the movie to exist as a plausible drama for very long. It devolves quickly into the kinds of action tropes and lazy storytelling short hand you see all the time in would-be adrenaline rush, popcorn thrillers. It just isn’t the right choice for the material. There are two movies here. One is sharp and provocative, although lacking in conviction, and the other is straight forward and boisterous, handing out the action it thinks moviegoers are looking for. It may sound like the protests of a Philistine, but just give me the action movie next time.

The result of this restless combination is that although it’s riveting while you watch it, the very moment Green Zone ends it begins to fade away into the grainy, blurred vortex that the last few Bourne pictures occupy. All these months later I still have the visuals of Bigelow’s bomb unit uncovering a dead Iraqi child with an explosive sewn into his chest. On the ride home, Miller’s Jack Bauer antics had all but vanished from the forefront, leaving little lasting impression.

Rating: ★★★☆☆ 

Breck Eisner’s The Crazies is a movie unashamed of what it is; a zombie-centric gallery of jump-scares and gore moments. There’s the quaint little town where things start to go horribly wrong, the erstwhile sheriff who wrings his hands with each new terrible discovery, and of course, an endless number of scenes where characters wander into the dark and are immediately pounced upon by the soundtrack. It might sound like I’m slagging the movie, but I’m not. The Crazies is a bloody good time and it works because of these elements.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Romero’s original, but the new film feels like it lives right down the road from that one. Ogden Marsh is a happy, sleepy little burg in Iowa; one of those cinematic farm towns where everyone shows up to the little league games like they were the World Series. One afternoon, Sheriff David Dutton sees the town drunk marching across the ball field in the middle of a game…holding a shotgun. The deputy shoots him down before there’s any real trouble, but here a mystery begins.

David learns the drunk had been sober for years and the coroner report shows no signs of alcohol. Like an epidemic, more violent events occur, all over town, following a seemingly inconsequential path. A family is burned alive inside of a house while the husband mows the front lawn, there’s an immense plane sunk in the swamp nearby, and the moments of rural farm life are interrupted by ominous shots that seem as if they are being broadcast via satellite feeds. The film moves at a merciless pace, and at the half hour mark it takes an abrupt turn from horror towards a more action/sci-fi oriented direction.

As a result of events I won’t go into here, Sheriff Dutton (Timothy Olyphant) and his faithful deputy (Joe Anderson) find themselves in the burned out wreckage of Ogden Marsh which now looks like a ghost town, fighting their way past the now infected and insane populace and another more menacing threat, which they are less equipped to battle against. They are trying to find David’s pregnant wife, Judy (Radha Mitchell), who has been quarrantined in the town. In and back out will be a harder task than the one facing the misplaced gang in Walter Hill’s The Warriors. On this day, the entirety of the universe, minus his wife and deputy, has decided it is against David Dutton.

There isn’t a second of  The Crazies you haven’t already seen somewhere else, and the movie sets up a clear delineation point regarding who will enjoy it; you can either tolerate a high-strung jump scare or you can’t. This movie is so chock-full of them that a drinking game could easily be created. But the movie looks great, and the corn fields, the bright, baby-blue skies, and white-washed all American townsfolk are all turned in on themselves to evoke dread, mistrust, and dark currents of governmental intrusion. The Crazies aren’t exactly zombies, but they perform almost all the same functions. Gas masks, high-powered sniper rifles, and trucks loaded down with human cargo evoke a concentration camp kind of imagery. This milieu is filmed in a gritty, frightening way and there’s something startling about the manner in which Eisner goes about ripping the town apart.

Timothy Olyphant, Radha Mitchell and Joe Anderson deliver strong work as the central survivors and they form a believable bond. Olyphant, seemingly channeling 1980′s era Michael Biehn, and Mitchell have good chemistry together and their husband/wife connection is the simple but strong structure upon which The Crazies hangs our investment. We want to see them make it to the end of this nightmare even if Ogden Marsh is a goner.

The violence is graphic but not depraved or terribly overdone. The entire film moves forward with a relentless, determined energy and it doesn’t have time to linger over mutilated bodies. There is every kind of demented attack you could think of, but Eisner gives them all a certain zest and creativity. A scene involving  a knife, a wounded hand, and a rampaging attacker drew cheers from the audience. My personal favorite was seeing  an out-of-control coroner brandishing a bone saw like it was Steven Tyler’s guitar. The Crazies does take itself seriously, but it’s less politically and socially charged than Romero’s original. It also has a healthy sense of black humor that actually elevates it a bit in my eyes. It is unlikely that a horror fan will go into this and come out disappointed. Fortunately, Eisner has made it palatable for the rest of us too.

The Crazies opens, like Zack Snyder’s 2004 Dawn of the Dead, with a song by Johnny Cash. This film isn’t quite as good as that remake, but it’s accomplishing the same thing and hitting many of the same beats. At the end, as the credits roll, there’s Willie Nelson on the soundtrack. Both songs are more up-beat, cheerful than brooding rock-a-billy. The  film has come full circle and the point has been made. Beneath the folksy, smiling veneer of the good life, unseen monsters lurk.

Rating: ★★★☆☆ 

A film like Hong-Jin’s The Chaser is the exception to the rule for shock-based serial killer films. Speaking as someone who actively avoids most  women-in-peril horror pics, I was relieved to find that this Korean offering manages to unhinge and electrify  its audience without resorting to loathsome or  deviant imagery.

Recently William Monahan and Leonardo DiCaprio have showed interest in an American remake of it. I can see why.

The Chaser creates a believable and incredibly real environment out of the night-time streets of Seoul, and draws the focus not on gruesome torture or misogyny but on a critique of the  justice system in Korea, which allows a  murdering sociopath to go free even after he’s been apprehended by authorities.

At the same time, the film is a captivating and poignant study of a man who has crossed over so many moral and personal boundaries that it requires him coming face-to-face with real and calculating evil to even begin to see his way back home. Best of all, The Chaser works simply as a taut, unrelenting thriller; even when the film’s pace doesn’t match the breakneck speed of the events on screen, it holds us in its dark, chilling spell.

Taking place on the streets of the Mapo district in Seoul, The Chaser follows disgraced cop turned pimp, Joong-Ho, who is lamenting the financial hit his ‘business’ has taken of late; several of the prostitutes working for him have simply never returned. When e sends the sick Mi-Jin(because he has no one else available) out to a john, he realizes too late that the man’s cell number matches the last job each of the missing girls took. Joong-Hi tries to get in touch with Mi-Jin, and when this fails, he sets out after her; at this point, he isn’t so much concerned for her safety as he is fighting to protect his business.

As it turns out, a lot of things aren’t as they seem. Mi-Jin has a daughter that Joong-Ho finds when he goes to her apartment–he never knew she had a child– and when he single-handedly apprehends Young-Min, the john who has been taking his girls, he realizes that the man hasn’t been selling his girls, but murdering them. This means Joong-Ho has placed Mi Jin in harm’s way.

Without giving too much away, the film shifts its focus at just about every half-hour mark. The first 30 minutes  play out as an almost contained thriller with the pimp trying to selfishly defend his employees while taking down the chilling and nonchalant Young-Min, who looks like he would happily murder 70 more if given the chance.  With Young-Min in custody and confessing to the murder of the girls, it looks like an open and shut case. Until of course, bureaucracy gets in the way, and a crap-slinging (literally) protester who targets politicians becomes a higher responsibility than the vile killer.

Although the intensity of Mi-Jin’s predicament invests The Chaser with a horror-movie atmosphere, it is ultimately the slow awakening of Joong-Ho’s humanity that gives the film its emotional impact. This isn’t an easy role or a simple character, and I didnt’ find much to like in the man at first. To be honest, there isnt’ much to like by the end either, but he is in the process of growing and as played by Yun-seok Kim he has a complexity to him I did not expect. Joong-Ho is a slovenly, angry mess at the opening of The Chaser,  bullying the women who work for him and casting a sour eye at the rest of the world. He’s hiding out in a ratty, dingy office with yellowed wallpaper and sputtering flourescent lights. His mind, however, is still sharp and his skills as a detective haven’t dulled.

As soon as the ex-cop sets out to find Mi-Jin, he’s on the road to reconnecting with all he lost. He just doesn’t know it, and of all the things the film over-emphasizes, his gradual redemption isn’t one of them. It happens with little fanfare or posturing but it is meaningful precisely because it isn’t easy for him. There is a bitter truth at the heart of the film; despite his best efforts now, Joong-Ho won’t have come to the end of his journey by simply catching Young-Min or saving Mi-Jin. Over the course of this one angry night, he will be goaded to life by the young girl he’s watching over, haunted by the one he delivered into harm, and provoked by the man who has hidden her away in the bowels of Mapo. There are feelings being stirred that cannot be re-buried, and some time very soon, perhaps even before all this is over, Joong-Ho will have to pay the proverbial Piper. Maybe, there will even be enough of him left afterwards to make good out of it.

In contrast to the character of Joong-Ho, there is Yeong-hie Seo’s chilling performance as Young-Min. The Chaser is such a great film specifically because of his performance. Without him, it wouldn’t be nearly as disturbing or affecting as it ends up  being.  The filmmakers have based Young-Min and his crimes off of the real-life case of  Yoo Young Cheol who murdered 21 people in 2003-04. Killing mostly women and the elderly, Cheol was documented as callous, diabolical and an amoral mastermind.

Yeong-hie Seo takes those characteristics and delves into each one so fully that I do not envy his journey or the places he had to go to achieve such results. Other actors approaching the task of playing a madman employ hand gestures, facial ticks, or other forms of body language to suggest instability or abberration. Whats so completely disarming  about Young-Min is that there isn’t any of that. All of the ‘badness’ can be found in the eyes that stare just a bit too long, or the smilingat all the wrong moments, or the telling way in which he won’t touch anyone unless it’s in the process of physical violence. These are small, near-throwaway details, but there are so many layered on here they form a portrait of disquieting grotesqueness.

Finally, special mention must be made of the director’s work. Hong-jin Na provides an active and living backdrop for the drama and lifts it beyond merely an efficient thriller. He crafts each action piece with the skill of William Friedkin or Alfred Hitchcock and he never lets up. We think we know how the film will run. We assume we see where it is going. Most of the time, I think as viewers we follow the typical rhythms and tropes of filmmaking–especially genre films–and we can anticipate the next move. Thats part of why genres are popular; they are familiar. At some point, The Chaser jumps the ramp of genre and becomes direct, powerful and honest.This is a great film.

Rating: ★★★★½ 

Last month, we got our first look at Oliver Stone’s Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps and the return of Gordon Gecko. Now there’s a longer, international trailer that sheds light on the film’s plot.

The first trailer very effectively showed us Douglas stepping back into the world, noting the changing times (hey! giant cell phone!), and taking on a protege. But it didn’t really tell us anything about the story.  Was Gecko a good guy now, as script rumors have suggested? Would the film have any of the same bite?

From the looks of this, I’d say that first question is still (thankfully) unanswered, and the answer to the second one is yes, it probably will. If that’s the case, you can thank Michael Douglas who shines brighter in these few minutes of footage than he has in any of his most recent films. I’ve missed the edge and bite of a malicious Douglas, and although Gecko might be a changed man, he doesn’t seem like he’s necessarily a ‘good’ one, which makes sense.

How will this go over in the current economic climate where corporate corruption is commonplace? Who knows, but the strength of this trailer is that it hints the film will be more of a thriller than the original, and that might indeed be a good thing.

I’m still not sold on Shia, but Carey Mulligan as Douglas’ daughter is promising, and Langella and Brolin are welcome in any movie.

Check it out below: