I saw Atomic Blonde...

For the record, I'm a big-time Eric Stanton fan. Stanton, in the event one is unaware, was a cartoonist/illustrator who specialized in female domination and related fetish themes. (Awright, my secret is out, but then as most know, I do fancy the off-kilter.) Stanton's ladies were tall, beautiful and powerful as hell, enough to strike down their male opponents in an instant. (When need be, they'd also administer prolonged torture, but that's another salacious topic for another salacious time.) At any rate, I'm happy to report that this summer's latest, high-profile, action flick, "Atomic Blonde", embraces Stanton's swell tradition. 

Based on the Anthony Johnston/Sam Hart, Oni Press graphic novel, "Coldest City" (and not AC's Femforce character), "Atomic Blonde" has been refashioned by Johnston and screenwriter Kurt Jonstad for director David Leitch, who tested his cinematic prowess on the hard-edged "John Wick". All the same, "Atomic Blonde'"s format stacks Stanton's implacable influence in spades.

The plot (like the graphic novel upon which it's based) occurs 1989, just as the Berlin Wall is set to fall: a historic, Cold War cap, indeed (and an indirect means to give the context some Bond, Bourne and U.N.C.L.E. intrigue, while sparking the scene with pulsating, Reagan Era tunes), but the setting only exists to let the femdom antics zing and roll. It’s Charlize Theron's long-legged Lorraine Broughton we’ve come to see, and by gosh by jingo, do we ever get our blow-by-blow money’s worth.

As anyone who's witnessed the film's trailers knows, Broughton looks mighty, damn fine when destroying her opponents. For the sake of a feature-length film, however, it takes more than a few Stanton-like panels to fill the time. To pad Theron's provocative presence, we're offered plenty of exciting scene hopping (and yep, that ballyhooed stairwell/apartment/chase sequence lives up to the hype), as our explosive Mata Hari cuts through Berlin to unravel the death of a fellow spy and locate a wrist-watch encoded with double-agent info.

Characters bounce off and revolve around our heroine as the passages ricochet: nice fodder until we re-enter the lusty stuff. The supplemental gang consists of Daniel Bernhardt; James Faulkner; John Goodman; Sam Hargrave; Johannes Haukur Johanneson; Toby Jones; Roland Moller; Til Schweiger; Bill Skargard and Eddie Marsan (who's closely linked to the coveted dossier): quite a distinguished, character-actor ensemble, which brings the bridging pieces a nice sophistication. 

However, it's Sofia “The Mummy” Boutella’s sultry, French operative, Delphine LaSalle, who stands out from the supporting-player pack, engaging our heroine in the type of tryst that (for some) is as much a part of the fetish scene as femdom. Man, oh, man, when these gals get it on, does the temperature ever rise!

James McAvoy’s David Percival, on the other hand, bolsters Broughton's smoking drive as the story's leading man. For a time, his presence gives us fellas a snappy spy with whom we can identify...if we wish. I mean, it isn't really a necessity when one has Theron to ogle; besides, in the world of double agents, is any dashing gent all that identifiable?

Again, Theron's presence is the film's overpowering thrust, as much as Scarlett Johannson is in “Ghost in the Shell”, but "Atomic Blonde" takes its femme-fatale concept to a whole new level, rivaling even the sexy zest of Emma Peel, Honey West, Nikita (any version) and those gutsy gals of "D.O.A.", "Charlie's Angels" and "Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill!", if that can be believed.

Because of its provocative nature, "Atomic Blonde" could go down as Theron’s signature role, though the highbrows will probably prefer her ghastly guise in “Monster”. Sorry, but that look (though admirable for artistic cause) ain't my cup of tea. When one has such a stunning lady at one's disposal, it’s wise to let her beauty and strength shine through. (Okay, Theron was smudged-up in “Mad Max: Fury Road”, but that was in an exotic, not repugnant way; and even when she's bloodied and bruised in "Atomic Blonde", she pretty much resembles a goddess in abstract body paint--not at all unpleasing). I'm just glad that, in the glamour and violence departments, new Hollywood got it right for a change. 

There's no doubt that somewhere out there, dear ol' Stanton is beaming with approval.

I saw Mad Max Chromed...

George Miller's alternate edition of "Mad Max: Fury Road" (see May '15 for theatrical-release review) is served in black-and-white, or as publicity has it, in "black n chrome". The tone of the companion piece isn't illogical, either, since the film's villains worship the shiny parts of their menacing machines.  

For what it's worth, "Fury Road" really does click in black-and-white. On further thought, any Max movie would likely work fine in that format. Thematically, Max's mad misadventures project a colorless quality, at least until their final frames (the exception maybe being the '78 original). 

In my humble opinion, "Fury Road" (more than "Road Warrior" or "Thunderdome") is punctuated by uncommon hope, so much so that the prevailing black-and-white may seem out of place during the film's final frames. In fact, I'll go so far to say that even at the pivotal moment when Max (SPOILER) realizes it's best to go back and fight the baddies, a symbolic splash of color should have doused the chromed expanse (a "Wizard of Oz '39" nod to eclipse the apocalyptic woe), but who am I to judge Miller's instincts?

Anyway, it seems the chromed hues best complement the story's predatory cretin, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). That's not to say that Max (Tom Hardy)'s doleful disposition and Furiosa (Charlize Theron)'s manic drive don't jive with the black-and-white ambiance, especially when the former is used as a hood ornament. It's just that Joe's cultural hardware (the masks, spokes, skulls and grids) seem more ideally suited to black-and-white's gloom. For that matter, Joe's vehicles (and even the despairing, pale roads upon which they roar) also appear more aesthetically appealing through a bleaker lens.

I suppose some may lament Miller's second-wind gimmick, but it's far better than selling another inflated director's cut, where superfluous scenes would only stifle the action. "Black n Chrome" is, at the end of the day, a clever experiment. Max fans are certain to enjoy it, even if they're apt to return to the bright, varied hues for future viewings.

I saw the Huntsman's Winter War...

The notion of giving a fairy tale a masculine makeover is rather appealing if you're a guy, or simply one into action/adventure storytelling. Such a transformation proved most successful in Rupert Sanders' "Snow White and the Huntsman". That Eric the Huntsman happened to be portrayed by Chris "Thor" Hemsworth further sealed the virile deal.

It only reasoned that a follow-up would occur, but a quasi-prequel/sequel? Now, that was a tad unexpected, but for all intents and purposes, the essence that made the 2012 epic a hit remains intact in director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan's Brothers Grimm/Hans Christian Anderson inspired chapter, "The Huntsman: Winter's War", and yes, Hemsworth's return works greatly in its favor. In fact, one might argue, if not for Hemsworth, what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Charlize Theron also returns as the sadistic, shape-shifting Queen Ravena, once more anxious of another eclipsing her beauty (like she'd really have to fret), but instead of Kristen Stewart's enchanting Snow White, the competition comes in a prelude, featuring Ravena's sister, Freya, played with chilling pathos by Emily Blunt. 

In this lead-in, the "Mirror, Mirror" entity (Christopher Obi) informs Ravena that Freya's child will rival her beauty, and so the offspring is killed through Ravena's influence and by the hand of Freya's fiance (Colin Morgan). This horrid act turns Freya into a contemptuous, snow-blowing Ice Queen and one who'll spitefully recruit children throughout the land, including young Eric and Sara (Jessica Chastain), to be groomed as her protecting pawns. 

To keep Eric a sympathetic warrior, Craig Mazin and Evan Spiliotopoulos' script treats us to various aspects of his arduous days, both before and after his Snow White jaunt. Chastain's Sara figures into this path, underscoring the heroism and woe, for we know that, regardless of her diligence and conviction, hardship awaits them both. 

Watching the couple's bumpy bond is touching and by good grace, never tart; it also sparks an early defiant streak, since Freya disrupts their love. To remind us of the importance of amorous ties, Snow White's Prince Charming (Sam Claflin) materializes for a time, and another dwarf group joins the crusade (Rob Brydon; Alexandra Roach; Sheridan Smith; and Nick Frost, reprising his role), who spawn their own burgeoning loves. Nonetheless, throughout their journey, they stay steadfast to prevent evil's spread, knowing that the warring sisters will continue to wage their contempt on love, freedom and all things good and kind. (It really comes down to which witch is worse.) 

Such gallantry inspires lots of graceful battling, with Eric often advancing the charges. In image, he's very much a mortal Thor and therefore, the guy we can't help but root for, his presence molding the adventure to his rough guise.  

Of course, parts of the film still invoke a feminine flair, sprinkled with quaint wonders to offset the lumbering CGI beasts. Credit for this enchanting accentuation goes to Nicolas-Troyan, who pulls from his experience as the original film's effects supervisor.

When the ice clears, justice prevails, with the survivors looking toward a better day and one can assume more adventures, but fluid sequels (not collisions of "then and now") are the recommended thread here. 

On this basis, our hero needn't face only fairy-tale icons like Snow White, Cinderella and Maleficent (the latter's tale also produced by executive Joe Roth). Indeed, these characters would be ideal for extended sprees, but perhaps it would be more enticing to see the mighty Huntsman in a Sinbad type sojourn, combating colossal sea and island beasts. On the other hand, a basic Robin Hood knock off, with a few fleeting monsters woven into the plot, might work far better. Truly, any number of scenarios could click, if the producers/writers were to let their imaginations roll. 

Nonetheless, even if the Huntsman's saga remains a two-parter, the gallant Eric will have more than made his mark. Hemsworth can hold his head high, confident that he remains one of Hollywood's most bankable action stars. Doc Savage, anyone?

I saw Mad Max...

Times were a-changin' in the '70s: a legal switch had struck in various sectors, leaving victims at the whim of their assailants. Justice was dealt, but not accordingly, with impunity the growing norm. Pop-culture reflected this imbalance, and where reality couldn't fix matters, movies  like "Dirty Harry" and "Death Wish" could. The need for such a cinematic remedy streached even to Australia, where the hunger for a hero raged equally strong. 

The first "Mad Max" surfaced in '79, and became a huge hit in its homeland. Written and directed by George Miller, it tells the tale of a near-future police officer, Max Rockatansky, portrayed by Mel Gibson (in his first leading role). We see Max grow mad thanks to a failing criminal system: his best friend set aflame by a sniveling thug; his wife and child run down by heartless cretins during a rural sojourn.

In Miller's sequels, "Mad Max 2/Road Warrior" and "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome", the bad guys have multiplied to the point of ruling the landscape, seizing commodities from those who have justly earned and nurtured them, terrorizing and slaughtering the innocent and beguiling the naive and desperate with false hope, only then to shackle them. 

Max enters these woeful pockets by chance, with a heart hardened by pain and a reluctance to befriend anyone in fear that they, too, might be taken from him. He also acts as a reluctant savior to many: like Alan Ladd's Shane, wandering into their vulnerable nests to teach them how to fight, survive and believe that virtue still has a place in world gone as mad as he.  

Miller's new Max, "Fury Road", stars Tom Hardy in the title role, in an adventure that some consider a prequel and others label as a re-imaging. The script, penned by Miller, Nico Lathouris and Brendan McCarthy, contains the same rough-and-tough elements that distinguish the Gibson trilogy, with the nomadic Max once more caught between factions in a battle over a special commodity...but this time it's more than mere oil or water. 

It's a group of young women (Courtney Easton; Rosie Huntington-Whiteley; Riley Keough; Zoe Kravitz; and Abbey Lee Kershaw): a special breed, or so were told, kept to birth a race of totalitarian crackpots...or if the better opportunity arises, humankind's salvation, as long as they can get to a safe place. Max, who's imprisoned by their blood-craving captors, joins the ladies' cause, trekking with them across the desert via a mighty rig. This jaunt occurs, however, only when the resourceful Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) deters an order to steal crude from a neighboring group. 

Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne: the vile Toecutter in the original Max) is the new adversary, and like previous Max villains, is formidable and frightening. With his toothy half-mask and shock-punk hair, he invokes "Hellraiser'"s Chatterer; "American Horror Story'"s Twisty the Clown; and such Dark Knight foes as the Joker and ironically enough, Hardy's Bane. 

Throughout it all, Furiosa becomes as much a force against Joe as Max, and she and her escapees become the adventure's inspirational point: their quest empowered by a quiet kind of religious fervor, which stands in stark contrast to their adversaries' violent, misguided zeal. It's also the sort of conviction that might make our current crop of editorializing newscasters and comedians wince, but the need to believe in something greater than the merciless norm--to find a reason to endure in the face of chaos--is an essential component to surviving Max's post-apocalyptic hell. 

Hardy's portrayal of Max captures Gibson's nuances and essential look and to our benefit, he never once tries to reinvent the character. On the whole, Max is as cool as any action hero could hope to be, but he's also an "everyman": yet the victim and easy to identify with and champion because of his humble design. 

"Fury Road" also furthers Miller's queue of quirky co-characters, such as Nicolas Hoult as the pasty-faced Nux and Nathan Jones as the towering Rictus Erectus. Some of these participants are good; some bad, and parenthesize Max and Furiosa's ongoing presence. The good ones, however, wish to live their lives without impediment, but must fight for that right. On this basis, they gain our empathy and respect.

Considering our current, global scene seems swayed in favor of the criminal sect (certainly more so than when the original Max was released), "Fury Road" arrives at a perfect time and on this basis, demands continuation. However, even if such doesn't occur, "Max IV" stands as a testament to the ideal that, as long as good people persevere, so will justice. Sometimes we only need a Max to show us the way, and often we find he's not waiting in some distant, dusty locale to appear, but rather for that glorious chance to roar from out our flustered hearts.