V Movie Reviews

Michael Moore's superb documentary (following in the footsteps of Roger & Me and The Big One) tackles a meaty subject: gun control. Moore skillfully lays out arguments surrounding the issue and short-circuits them all, leaving one impossible question: why do Americans kill each other more often than people in any other democratic nation? Moore focuses his quest around the shootings at Columbine High School and the shooting of one 6-year-old by another near his own hometown of Flint, Michigan. By approaching the headquarters of K-Mart (where the Columbine shooters bought their ammo) and going to Charlton Heston's own home, Moore demands accountability from the forces that support unrestricted gun sales in the U.S. His arguments are conducted with the humor and empathy that have made Moore more than just a gadfly; he's become a genuine voice of reason in a world driven by fear and greed. --Bret Fetzer

One of very few widescreen productions filmed at the dawn of the talkies, The Big Trail was dismissed by reviewers of the day, little seen, and soon shelved and forgotten--for more than half a century, as it turned out. For movie buffs, it became a sort of Holy Grail.After all, the esteemed Raoul Walsh had directed, the early 70mm angle was tantalizing, and wasn't this the movie that was intended to make a star of Duke Morrison, a 22-year-old former prop man whom Walsh had rechristened John Wayne for the occasion? For curiosity value alone, surely it rated a look.

Restored in the late 1980s and warmly embraced by film festival audiences, The Big Trail proved to be more than just a historical footnote. What were those 1930 reviewers thinking?! Wayne is fresh, exuberant, matinee-idol handsome, and irresistibly charming (only a little purple prose trips him up, and no one should have been asked to speak such early-talkie flapdoodle anyway). The scenario winds through epic settings from the banks of the Mississippi by way of the Grand Canyon to the snows of Oregon and the mountain vistas of Washington, marking both a wagon train's journey and the settling of a personal score between trail guide Wayne and Tyrone Power Sr. as a veritable ogre of a villain. (A villain off-camera, too: Legend holds that Walsh had the actor beaten nearly to death for attempting to force himself on leading lady Marguerite Churchill.) The Big Trail is now an authentic classic, and a swell movie. Probably always was. --Richard T. Jameson

Spanning two decades and countless light years of interstellar adventure, Star Trek: The Motion Pictures Collection is a testament to the enduring goodwill of Gene Roddenberry's optimistic sci-fi concept. Long before Star Wars sparked an explosion of big-screen science fiction, Roddenberry had planned a second Star Trek TV series; the project fizzled, but its pilot script evolved into the first film in Paramount's most lucrative movie franchise. Despite its sluggish pace and bland "pajama" costuming, Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) offered a welcomed reunion of the "classic Trek" cast, packed with Douglas Trumbull's still-dazzling special effects. Trekkers were even more ecstatic when The Wrath of Khan (1982) revived the spirit of the original series, even though director Nicholas Meyer was a Trek neophyte. With Leonard Nimoy directing, The Search for Spock (1984) began where Khan left off, with a thrilling (albeit contrived) obligation to resurrect the formerly ill-fated Mr. Spock.

A box-office smash, Nimoy's The Voyage Home (1986) is the franchise's most accessible adventure--a high point offset by William Shatner's comparatively dreadful Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989). Meyer (and his penchant for quoting Shakespeare) returned for The Undiscovered Country (1991), a conspiracy thriller that put the series back on track, inspiring fans to invoke the "even number" rule in rating their franchise favorites. Generations (1994) gracefully passed the torch to TV's The Next Generation, bidding farewell to Captain Kirk with honor and integrity intact. Highlighted by the evolving humanity of Brent Spiner's android Lt. Comdr. Data, First Contact (1996) explored Star Trek history with a logical (hint) surprise encounter, and Insurrection (1998) provided an adequate expansion of the successful TNG series. Taken as a whole, these nine films demonstrate the consistent vitality of Roddenberry's original vision, stoking any Trekker's appetite for "ongoing missions" in Nemesis and beyond. --Jeff Shannon

Pity the poor film director (William H. Macy). He's arrived with cast and crew in the perfectly Rockwellian town of Waterford, Vermont, only to discover that the local mill--a crucial location for his movie, since it's titled "The Old Mill"--burned down in 1960. The idealistic screenwriter (Philip Seymour Hoffman) would rather pursue a pure-hearted local (Rebecca Pidgeon) than do a last-minute rewrite; the town's aspiring politico (Clark Gregg) wants to milk the production for every dime it's worth; the oft-exposed bimbo starlet (Sarah Jessica Parker) is now balking at her contractual nude scene; and a local teenager (Julia Stiles) is only too willing to exploit the indiscretions of the film's skirt-chasing star (Alec Baldwin). And of course, the power-wielding producer (David Paymer) is panicking about everything.

Welcome to David Mamet's State and Main, the acclaimed writer-director's funniest and most accessible film to date, propelled by the rocket fuel of Mamet's show-biz experience and driven by an ensemble cast that simply couldn't be better. Naturally, the writer's dilemma is the meatiest one--will he be noble or sell out?--and Mamet arrives at a solution that's as hilarious as it is morally justified. Along the way, the rigors of filmmaking are explored with farcical abandon, such as how to provide a high-tech product placement... in a 19th-century story. Mamet's razor-sharp dialogue is gourmet popcorn here--each kernel yields a tasty surprise--and the whole scenario (intentionally modeled in the style of Preston Sturges) plays out with the breezy assurance of vintage screwball comedy. It's pure gold from start to finish, and even the closing credits offer another reason to laugh. --Jeff Shannon

Pity the poor film director (William H. Macy). He's arrived with cast and crew in the perfectly Rockwellian town of Waterford, Vermont, only to discover that the local mill--a crucial location for his movie, since it's titled "The Old Mill"--burned down in 1960. The idealistic screenwriter (Philip Seymour Hoffman) would rather pursue a pure-hearted local (Rebecca Pidgeon) than do a last-minute rewrite; the town's aspiring politico (Clark Gregg) wants to milk the production for every dime it's worth; the oft-exposed bimbo starlet (Sarah Jessica Parker) is now balking at her contractual nude scene; and a local teenager (Julia Stiles) is only too willing to exploit the indiscretions of the film's skirt-chasing star (Alec Baldwin). And of course, the power-wielding producer (David Paymer) is panicking about everything.

Welcome to David Mamet's State and Main, the acclaimed writer-director's funniest and most accessible film to date, propelled by the rocket fuel of Mamet's show-biz experience and driven by an ensemble cast that simply couldn't be better. Naturally, the writer's dilemma is the meatiest one--will he be noble or sell out?--and Mamet arrives at a solution that's as hilarious as it is morally justified. Along the way, the rigors of filmmaking are explored with farcical abandon, such as how to provide a high-tech product placement... in a 19th-century story. Mamet's razor-sharp dialogue is gourmet popcorn here--each kernel yields a tasty surprise--and the whole scenario (intentionally modeled in the style of Preston Sturges) plays out with the breezy assurance of vintage screwball comedy. It's pure gold from start to finish, and even the closing credits offer another reason to laugh. --Jeff Shannon