Warrior

Directed by Gavin O’Connor.

2011. Rated PG-13, 140 minutes.
Cast:
Nick Nolte
Tom Hardy
Joel Edgerton
Frank Grillo
Maximiliano Hernández
Kevin Dunn
Jennifer Morrison
Denzel Whitaker
Kurt Angle
Erik Apple

What happens when your demons catch up to you? Our three main characters in Warrior have to find out the answer to that very question. There’s Paddy AKA Pop (Nolte), and his two sons, Brendan (Edgerton) and Tommy (Hardy). The three have been estranged for quite some time. Pop is a drunk who abused the boys’ mother. He’s been sober for close to 1000 days. When he comes home one night he discovers Tommy waiting on his doorstep. We quickly learn that a few years ago Tommy took mom and fled in hopes of getting her as far away from Pop as possible. He seethes hatred for his old man, yet here he is. Brendan lives not too far from his father but refuses to see him, mostly for the same reason as his brother. However, there is even more to that dynamic. The two brothers aren’t speaking, either. Both are trained fighters, but not working as professionals. Still, they both decide now is the time to get back in the game and start seriously training for a very high profile mixed martial arts tournament where the winner takes home $5 million. They do so separately and without knowledge of what the other is doing, of course. Interestingly enough, Tommy asks Pop to work with him.

The three men share something I hesitate to call a bond. That would imply that what they have is a positive thing. Rest assured, it is not. It’s much more akin to shackles that keep them connected no matter how much they desire to be otherwise. Indeed, they are each other’s demons. It seems they’ve been haunting one another all of their lives. Despite all the anger between them, we empathize with each of them. We understand the actions of the two sons. Things are a little trickier with regards to Pop. However, we feel sorry for him. He desperately wants to make amends but knows his mistakes are unforgivable.

Besides watching the guys rage against each other, the reason the two brothers want and need the prize money is also explored. This adds to the drama and helps to flesh out the characters. The writing and the actors themselves aid in this also. Nolte and Hardy are particularly good. It’s one of Nolte’s best in years. He really conveys a man constantly grieving his own errors, desperate to reconcile with his offspring and feeling completely dejected. It’s heart wrenching stuff. Whenever Hardy’s on screen, Tommy’s anger consumes both him and us. We feel the chill of his coldness. However, knowing what’s gone on in his life, we totally understand. By the way, as Brendan, Joel Edgerton holds up well also. Unfortunately for him, his performance is bookended by two outstanding portrayals.

Don’t go getting the wrong idea. There is lots of MMA action. It’s oddly handled, though. It’s brutal, but only up to a point. Fists, elbows, feet and knees hit as bone-crunching noises threaten to blow out your speakers. Bodyslams certainly live up to their name. However, it’s all strangely sanitized to fit into the movie’s PG-13 packaging. In short, it’s a bloodless affair. Anyone who’s seen the sport in real life knows this isn’t the case. Often, someone is being pummeled but where they’re being hit is barely out of sight. When you see this realize it’s the camera doing what camera’s aren’t supposed to do: flincing.

The fighting in Warrior is not here to satisfy my bloodlust, though. It’s here to provide a triumphant achievement for one of the brothers. For this reason, it’s been called just another Rocky clone. I disagree. There is that element to Warrior, but it’s much more. It’s about the painful relationships the three men share. This comes through even in its most Rocky-esque moments. Though one son assumes the Balboa role, the other is no Apollo Creed. He’s much more reluctant hero than villain. However, we do get an Ivan Drago in the form of unbeatable Russian champion Koba (Angle). In reality, he’s merely an interesting sidebar. Finding a way to defeat him is not the point of the nearly two hours we spend with this dysfunctional family. The point is to see how much the thrill of victory can be tainted by the agony of defeat.

MY SCORE: 8.5/10

My Soul to Take

Directed by Wes Craven.

2010. Rated R, 107 minutes.
Cast:
Max Thierot
John Magero
Denzel Whitaker
Zena Grey
Nick Lashaway
Paulina Olszynski
Emily Meade
Jeremy Chu

Sixteen years ago the local serial killer turned his attention on his own family. He’s rather lazily dubbed “The Ripper” and had been terrorizing the town by cutting up people with a rather large knife that has the word “VENGEANCE” scrawled across the blade. Don’t worry, that’s never actually explained. He seems to suffer from multiple personalities which we’re informed are really multiple souls. One of these kills his wife, while another calls his shrink. A battle with the police ensues which includes The Ripper being shot, presumed dead, waking up a few times to stab some more, get shot again, being rushed to the hospital, causing the ambulance to crash and disappearing.

Fast forward to the present and all the local kids born on that fateful night gather at the lake near the ambulance crash site every year on their birthday to ceremoniously drive The Ripper back into the water for another year. To do this , one of them has to push over a giant puppet representing the killer. This year it’s Bug’s turn. He’s so scared he botches the job. Yup, you guessed it. The kids start getting knocked off…one…by…one.

As slasher flicks go, this premise is okay even though its not terribly original. It reminds me of The Shocker. Not so coincidentally both movies were penned and directed by horror legend Wes Craven. While The Shocker is a gleeful dark comedy and revels in its own ridiculousness, My Soul to Take is an unfocused poser. It desperately wants to be something, it just can’t decide what. It’s attempts at cleverness are anything but. As a result, we get a lot of eye-rollingly bad jokes. It’s efforts at scaring us fail miserably. This is due in part to us trying to figure out if we’re watching comedy or horror and part because there is almost zero tension created. The best of Craven makes us both laugh and cower in fear because humor and horror blend seamlessly to form a potent mixture. Here, the two keep bouncing off one another after awkwardly smashing together. A couple plot twists here and there keep us very mildly interested but aren’t enough to save the film from itself.

What may have helped is better money shots. In slasher fare, money shots are the kill scenes. Even if a movie is awful as a whole, fans of this particular genre will still enjoy it if the grisly murders staged for our morbid pleasure are creative and memorable. In MStT they are neither. They are an incredibly boring succession of stabbings. While they would be undeniably heinous in real life, they’re unbelievably tame for its target audience. We never get what we came for. Imagine watching an action flick in which every fight consistent of just one punch and every shootout a single shot. We get the equivalent of those things.

Wes Craven deserves his lofty spot as a master of horror. He’s earned it through decades of scaring the crap out of us. Occasionally, he’s scared us while simultaneously making fun of how he does it. However, in a career longer than my life has been he’s made some missteps. This is one of them.