Tag Archives: Star Wars

Before ‘Force Awakens,’ Boyega Starred in Alien Invasion Flick

Just as George Lucas cast unknowns Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher and Harrison Ford in his original Star Wars trilogy, director J.J. Abrams enlisted some intriguing new faces to appear in “Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens.”

One of them in particular, British actor John Boyega, seemed to come out of nowhere to snag the pivotal role of Finn, a mysterious young man who appears to be a disillusioned Stormtrooper and possible Jedi in the making.

Although many details about the character remain under wraps, the trailers show Boyega wearing a Stormtrooper uniform, before shedding it for an extremely cool leather jacket, interacting with Rey (Daisy Ridley) and Poe (Oscar Isaac), and wielding a lightsaber.

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American audiences may be unfamiliar with the London performer but “The Force Awakens” isn’t Boyega’s first foray into sci-fi.

The actor made his debut on the British television series “Being Human.” But his big break came when he starred in a quirky little B-movie called “Attack the Block,” written and directed by Joe Cornish, a collaborator of filmmaker Edgar Wright.

A hilarious, playful, extremely British twist on classic alien invasion flicks, the movie is an excellent showcase for Boyega’s considerable talents. Almost immediately, the actor proved himself a charismatic, effortlessly cool, self-assured up-and-comer.

If you’ve seen the film, it isn’t a surprise that Abrams chose him to shoulder the burden of a new Star Wars chapter.

If you haven’t seen the film, you should stream it this weekend.

Not sold on the idea yet? Read the review below.

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Attack the Block, 2011
R (creature violence, drug content, pervasive language)
88 minutes

If you liked the nostalgic kids-meet-extraterrestrial vibe of “Super 8” or the shameless sci-fi-Western mash-up of “Cowboys vs. Aliens,” you’ll want to check out “Attack the Block.”

Writer-director Joe Cornish’s fun, intentionally campy, surprisingly slick adventure flick pits a London street gang against inky invaders from the sky with glow-in-the-dark fangs.

Released in October 2012 on DVD, it arrived with the tagline “inner city vs. outer space,” which pretty much sums up the film, a not-so-guilty pleasure for sci-fi geeks and anglophiles alike.

Set in the sort of shady South London housing project Cornish grew up in, “Attack the Block” opens with a scary but realistic scenario — walking back to her apartment at night, Sam (Jodie Whittaker) is mugged at knife point by an awkward group of young thugs.

After Sam escapes, sans phone and purse, the boys witness a bright, meteor-like object fall from the sky and encounter a vicious beast that is clearly not of this world.

Following the creature to a playground, the gang’s leader, a troublemaker named Moses (John Boyega), easily slays the outer space visitor, resulting in a lot of macho posturing that is quickly cut short when more lights begin descending from the sky.

As the gang’s beloved block comes under siege, it’s up to these wayward street kids to save the day, a task that reunites them with the reluctant but resourceful Sam, who will have to overcome her resentment to become their unlikely ally.

Shot the old-fashioned way, in 35 mm, on a reported budget of $13 million — modest for a sci-fi flick — “Attack the Block” boasts cheesy special effects, which are sorta charming at the same time, and a skimpy but satisfying story.

It takes a gritty, gory approach to street life that crackles with unexpected realism.

The highlight of the film is its youthful cast, most of them inexperienced actors, ranging in age from 10 to 17, and adept at slinging the sort of indistinguishable, quick-witted slang that baffles American audiences.

Boyega, in particular, has the confident yet vulnerable quality of a potential leading man.

British comedian Nick Frost pops up as a pot grower who gives shelter to the kids when they most need it.

“Attack” was executive produced by Frost’s frequent collaborator, “Shaun of the Dead” director Edgar Wright.

Cornish is best known in the UK as half of the comedy duo “Adam and Joe” and co-wrote “The Adventures of Tintin.”

“Attack the Block” may be a modest feature film debut but it’s certainly memorable.

Photos: spinoff.comicbookresources.com; youtube.com.

The Night Han Solo’s Blaster Came to Visit, or My Life With the Force

When I was 13, my dad came home with a surprise.

He was working at a hobby shop on Avenue I, where regular customers would bring unusual collectibles for show and tell.

One day, a film industry guy stopped by with a movie prop he thought my dad would be interested in.

My father convinced the man to let him take Han Solo’s blaster home for the night so he could impress his kids.

I don’t actually know if the fictional gun came from the set of George Lucas’ famous trilogy or whether Harrison Ford ever touched it or if it was just a convincing replica.

It didn’t matter. It was like Christmas at our house when my dad came strolling through the door with one of the coolest looking pieces of hardware in cinema history.

My siblings and I spent the rest of the evening posing for photos with the coveted weapon in the backyard, make-believing we were slumming it at Mos Eisley Cantina or caught in the thick of battle on Endor.

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My dad, Gordon Kemble, with the purported Han Solo blaster. 

My dad was always very sweet about bringing me whatever Star Wars items he came across at the shop — books, role playing games, whatever odds and ends he could find.

It was six years after the release of “Return of the Jedi” and merchandise from the trilogy was scarce. Lucasfilm had yet to fully capitalize on the franchise’s marketing potential and souvenirs were difficult to find.

I became a disciple of Star Wars in a vacuum of sorts. I was 12 when I saw “A New Hope,” not in a theater, or on Blu-ray, or on a 60-inch flat-screen, but on the old television set in my great-aunt’s den.

Despite the humble presentation, I was awestruck by Lucas’ space opera. I remember the sight of C-3PO and R2-D2 shuffling down the shiny corridors of the Death Star, the thrill of Han Solo and Luke Skywalker’s rescue of Princess Leia, who was no damsel in distress, the hilarious suspense of the trash compactor scene, the mysticism of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the allure of the monk-robed Jedi, and of course, the brilliance and majesty of the lightsaber.

I really did think that someday the lightsaber would exist.

I saw the trilogy out of order. My sixth-grade teacher showed “Return of the Jedi” as a reward. Surrounded by classmates who had all seen the movie long ago, I marveled at Luke’s transformation from restless farm boy to noble Jedi warrior. By the end of the film, I was doing the “Yub Nub” dance right along with the Ewoks.

I then convinced my parents to rent “The Empire Strikes Back.” We took it to my grandparents’ house because they had a VCR. Finally, I was privy to the full mythology and the darkest and perhaps richest chapter of the trilogy, which was a little over my head at the time.

I wouldn’t see Star Wars on the big screen until the great re-release of 1997, a joyous occasion despite Lucas’ infamous tampering with his original imagery.

And I wouldn’t experience the heady, comforting rush of communing and commiserating with other Star Wars fans until 1999 when a certain prequel fanned the flames of frenzy over the franchise once again, for better or for worse.

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Camping out for tickets for “The Phantom Menace.”

Since then, I’ve enjoyed living in a Golden Age of Star Wars fandom, largely thanks to the efforts of Disney.

Merchandise is readily available, discussion is lively, and new developments are constantly on the horizon. It’s more than I ever dreamed of as a little girl, pretending to fly through the trenches of the Death Star in my very own X-wing starfighter.

This Golden Age will hit an unprecedented high on Dec. 18 with director J.J. Abrams’ new chapter in the franchise, “Episode VII — The Force Awakens.”

Whether this new entry in the series is spectacular or an epic failure, Star Wars will remain an integral part of my life. It’s sacred to me in a way that will not fade or change.

In a way, I owe my career to Star Wars.

My fascination with the franchise led to an abiding curiosity about cinema. I wanted to know how George Lucas brought the Rancor to life or created the awesome jump to lightspeed.

I subscribed to Lucasfilm Magazine so I could find out. I checked out books from the library on editing and cinematography and sound.

One of my first articles at the newspaper where I spent nearly 15 years writing about film was a well-meaning but misguided defense of “The Phantom Menace,” which was taking quite a critical drubbing.

I’m not going to claim that Star Wars taught me about love, but however weird it may sound, it is a significant part of my marriage.

My husband Nick and I were seeing other people when we camped out in the parking lot of a mall to be the first to snag tickets for “The Phantom Menace.”

By “Attack of the Clones,” we were dating. By “Revenge of the Sith,” we had tied the knot.

Star Wars isn’t the glue that holds our relationship together, but it certainly doesn’t hurt.

Not a day goes by that we don’t find ourselves talking about “The Force Awakens.” Some girls dream of diamonds from their beloved. My fondest gift from my husband is a red Force FX replica lightsaber. I’ll treasure it always.

More importantly, those first, indelible images of Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher and Harrison Ford  in Star Wars taught me that I didn’t have to conform to what society might expect of me.

Sure, I wanted to dress up as Princess Leia for Halloween. She was, refreshingly, a princess who did much more than waltz about in a ballgown and tiara.

But early on I discovered that I didn’t really want to be Leia. She didn’t get to wield the lightsaber. We never saw her embrace her powers or her path to the Force. What I wanted to be was Luke Skywalker or Han Solo.

Star Wars helped me realize that as a girl I could be a Jedi, I could pilot a starfighter, I could shoot a blaster, I could save the galaxy from the evil Galactic Empire. So why should I limit myself in real life?

As I grow older, Lucas’ universe keeps me connected to my childhood self, the one who stood with Luke, gazing at the setting twin suns of Tatooine, dreaming of what the future might hold.

I hope it will always hold more Star Wars.

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Fight the Dark Side With Countdown to ‘The Force Awakens’

The Force has awakened with a vengeance.

For the first time in 10 years, a new Star Wars movie will open in theaters — on Friday, Dec. 18, to be exact.

(If you’re a prequel denier, you might say it’s the first new Star Wars movie in 32 years.)

In this age of social media and relentless Internet coverage, the impending arrival of “Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens” has provoked obsession, curiosity and controversy, the likes of which have never been seen before.

Everyone has watched the trailers. Footage has been analyzed and reanalyzed and given rise to theories and speculation.

It’s difficult to get through a conversation without talk turning to the absence of Luke in the trailers — Is he dead? Is he the bad guy? What’s up with that robot hand? — or whose children Rey, Finn or Poe could be.

Everyone has fallen madly in love with a rotund little droid named BB-8.

You can’t set foot into a store without being confronted by shelves of plastic lightsabers, Kylo Ren action figures, and T-shirts. Oh, the humanity — the T-shirts!

In other words, it’s a wonderful time to be alive if you happen to be a Star Wars fan. Maybe the most wonderful time in all of history.

In celebration, we’re launching a month-long countdown to the theatrical debut of “The Force Awakens.” Beginning tomorrow, new Star Wars-related content will be featured on this blog almost every day.

We’ll have essays by fans about what the franchise means to them, stories examining the actors and filmmakers behind Disney’s ambitious new plans for George Lucas’ sci-fi universe, and photographic trips down memory lane.

You’ll also find links to some of our favorite Star Wars stuff online, as well as lifestyle features, including Christmas gift guides, essential swag for midnight screenings, and other helpful tips to make the month-long wait a little easier to bear.

This experiment in Lucasfilm love wouldn’t be possible without the many fascinating writers and Star Wars junkies who contributed their talents, words and memories.

We’re hoping this little tribute to “The Force Awakens” sparks lively discussion and participation, so please comment, post, share. Chime in enthusiastically and often with your feedback, ideas and thoughts.

The Force is calling to us and we’re gonna let it in.

 

Random Thoughts on Force Friday, Idris Elba as Bond, Other News of the Week

Some random, movie-related thoughts on the entertainment news of the week:

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Fans, savor Force Friday

Midnight marks the arrival of “Force Friday,” the official beginning of the merchandising bonanza leading up to the Dec. 18 release of “Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens.”

If you’re one of the fans staying up late and venturing out to your local Target or other stores for the unveiling of toys, collectibles, and other tie-ins to “The Force Awakens,” I salute you. As the parent of a toddler, I value my sleep too much to join you, but I’ll be with you in spirit.

At the risk of sounding like a nostalgic grandpa — “When I was a boy, we used to walk to school in 7-foot snow drifts …” — I remember a time when there was virtually no Star Wars merchandise to be found on shelves.

I was introduced to George Lucas’ space opera at the relatively late age of 12. It was the end of the ’80s and though people remembered “Star Wars” fondly, everybody was kind of over it.

The only option for watching the trilogy was renting the movies on VHS. Few people owned VHS players or video tapes back then, so you’d most likely have to rent them.

As a passionate, young convert to the “Star Wars” universe, I would scavenge for memorabilia wherever I could. There was no Internet, no eBay, no easy way to connect with fellow collectors. My prized possessions were a “Star Wars” poster, a spiral notebook from the dollar store, and a color still of Princess Leia chained to Jabba the Hutt, discovered at a creepy Hollywood souvenir shop. That was it.

It wasn’t until the release of those infamous prequels in the late ’90s that “Star Wars” merch became readily available again. Now, of course, you can find items everywhere, from T-shirts to toys, but it wasn’t always this way.

So remember that, Star Wars fans, while you’re doing your Force Friday shopping. Savor this moment.

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A cure for dismal Labor Day viewing

Speaking of the weekend, if you’re planning to see a movie over the Labor Day holiday, there aren’t many options. We’re in the thick of the end-of-summer doldrums and it’s looking pretty depressing out there.

Unless you want to sit through yet another mediocre video game movie reboot (“The Transporter Refueled,” coming on the heels of “Hitman: Agent 47”), there aren’t many cinematic choices to get excited about.

My advice? Skip what’s playing at the cineplex and take this opportunity to catch up on your documentary viewing.

BLVD Cinemas in Lancaster is playing two intriguing docs this weekend: “Meru,” about climbers tackling formidable challenges in the Himalayas, and “Steve Jobs: The Man in the Machine,” from Alex Gibney, director of the provocative “Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief.”

If you’d rather stay home, some recent, critically successful titles include “Red Army,” “Citizenfour,” “Art and Craft,” “Last Days of Vietnam,” “The Salt of the Earth,” “National Gallery,” “Yves Saint Laurent,” “Whitey: United States of America v. James J. Bulger,” and “Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon.”

When it comes to movies, fact is often more entertaining than fiction.

Wes Craven’s ‘Nightmare’ lives on

I was sad to hear of the passing of director Wes Craven, who died Sunday at the age of 76.

I’m a lightweight when it comes to horror flicks and though I was too much of a scaredy-cat to watch many of Craven’s movies, the filmmaker made a strong impression on me.

When I was a kid, my family often walked past the neighborhood video store, where a cardboard stand-up of Freddy Krueger peered menacingly from one of the windows. I had no idea at the time who Freddy was, but I was mesmerized by his shredded face, razor claws, and Christmas-colored sweater. I’d never seen “A Nightmare on Elm Street” and already he was haunting my dreams.

Since then, Freddy Krueger has taken his gruesome place as one of the most terrifying villains of all time. Craven also directed several other seminal and, for the time, transgressive horror films, including “The Last House on the Left” and “The Hills Have Eyes.”

In the mid-’90s, he laid the foundation for a 21st-century rebirth of horror with the “Scream” franchise, wittily deconstructing genre cliches and paying tongue-in-cheek homage to the classics. His influence can still be felt in recent horror films, like “Cabin in the Woods” and “It Follows.”

It seems Craven had ambitions to move beyond the horror genre, which despite being extremely lucrative, never earns a director much respect.

He helmed the drama “Music of the Heart,” helping star Meryl Streep to an Oscar. Though he never really moved past his role as a horror meister, his approach to his career was admirable.

“I come from a blue-collar family, and I’m just glad for the work,” Craven said in an interview quoted by the Hollywood Reporter.

“I think it is an extraordinary opportunity and gift to be able to make films in general, and to have done it for almost 40 years now is remarkable. If I have to do the rest of the films in the genre, no problem. If I’m going to be a caged bird, I’ll sing the best song I can.”

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Idris Elba as Bond? Hell, yes!

The Internet has been all riled up since Anthony Horowitz, author of the latest James Bond novel, declared that British actor Idris Elba should not play 007 in a future film.

Elba’s name has long been bandied about as an ideal replacement for Daniel Craig, who is a wonderful Bond but can’t very well portray the secret agent forever. In an unfortunate turn of phrase, Horowitz said Elba was “too street” to be a convincing Bond.

Elba’s fans were outraged by the author’s statement and the insinuation that the star of “Luther” and “The Wire” isn’t suave enough to slip into Bond’s tuxedo.

I have only one question for Horowitz: Have you seen Elba?

And, more importantly, have you seen Elba act? The man is the embodiment of cool, British charm and self-possession. He oozes sex appeal, experience and the ability to inflict violence on over-the-top baddies threatening to blow up the world. And he’s a brilliant, underrated performer who deserves to finally be a leading man.

Maybe when Horowitz said Elba was “too street,” he meant that if you ask any woman — or man, for that matter — on the street who should be the next James Bond, the answer would be “yes.” (Sigh. Only in an ideal world perhaps, but still … .)

By the way, Elba’s perfectly composed Twitter response to the kerfuffle offers further proof that he is the best man for the job.

“Always keep smiling,” he said. “It takes no energy and never hurts! Learned that from The Street!”

Photos: sundance.org; o.canada.com; bbcamerica.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fantastic Four Isn’t Great, But It’s Not the Disaster Everyone Says It Is

Fantastic Four
Two stars (out of four)
PG-13 (sci-fi action violence, language)
100 minutes

I find myself in the odd position of defending “Fantastic Four,” a film that received a dismal 9% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and delivered one of the worst box office performances ever for a movie associated with the lucrative Marvel brand.

Critics spent the last week and a half kicking this ill fated reboot while it’s down, and while I can’t say I blame them, the degree of gleeful vitriol directed at the film seems excessive to me.

“Fantastic Four” fails on many levels. Even in its best moments, it mostly doesn’t work. But what critics are overlooking is that director Josh Trank has taken a radically different approach to a comic book movie formula so worn, it’s becoming positively threadbare.

“Fantastic Four” is Trank’s weird but fascinating mad science experiment gone wrong. The director’s approach to one of comic book history’s most flamboyant franchises is so understated, it’s almost somnambulistic, but there’s something about the rubbed-rawness of it that is the perfect antidote to the hot-buttered-popcorn pageantry of movies like “Iron Man,” “Thor” and “The Avengers.”

Yes, there are all kinds of problems with the film, from an unpolished script that often reads like a first draft to its half-hearted, muddy-looking visual effects, but one gets the sense “Fantastic Four” could have been great. If Twentieth Century Fox is stubborn enough to forge ahead with a sequel, they may be onto something.

Trank’s career is most likely over. Whether Fox’s meddling or his inexperience are to blame for this is the subject of debate. Earlier this year, the director did the unthinkable and walked away from a Star Wars “anthology” film, a move that probably wasn’t his idea.

This is sad because Trank’s 2012 debut, “Chronicle,” showcases a talent for putting an original, realistic spin on the cliche comic book origin story. A drama about high school buddies who suddenly acquire superpowers, it clearly inspired the first act of “Fantastic Four,” which kicks off with the blossoming of an unlikely grade-school friendship between science nerd Reed Richards and street-smart Ben Grimm. (They’re played as adults by Miles Teller and Jamie Bell.)

Grimm’s family conveniently owns a scrapyard full of the parts Reed needs to complete his pet science project, a teleportation device, and Ben is just curious enough about his strange, little friend’s wacky ideas to go along with him.

The pair debut Reed’s creation at a high school science fair, attracting the attention of Franklin Storm (Reg E. Cathey), a philanthropist researcher who has been working in vain on the same technology.

Storm offers Reed a scholarship to his scientific institute, where he’s recruited a team of young geniuses, including his children, brilliant Sue (Kate Mara) and irresponsible Johnny (Michael B. Jordan), along with Storm’s former protege, Victor Von Doom (Toby Kebell), a brooding computer prodigy.

The first act of “Fantastic Four” focuses on the meeting of these eager, young minds and it isn’t half bad. This is largely due to the efforts of the film’s eager, young stars, who in previous roles have proven themselves to be incredibly gifted.

(Kudos, especially, to Mara, who may be the first woman in Hollywood to embody her superheroine with more regard for intellect than sex appeal.)

Unfortunately, the script does these promising performers a disservice. Penned by Trank, Jeremy Slater and “X-Men” scribe Simon Kinberg, the screenplay is in dire need of a few more drafts. Characters are left undeveloped, the pacing is out of joint, key scenes seem to have gone missing, the dialogue turns awkward, conflicts are hinted at but never fully materialize.

The scenario that imbues our quintet of heroes with powers that dramatically alter their body chemistries is as ridiculous as it is horrifying.

Yes, the way things go down in a fourth dimension dubbed “Planet Zero” is wildly insulting to the audience, but it also provides a brief glimpse into what a gloriously twisted thriller “Fantastic Four” could have been, dipping into Cronenbergian nightmares as our quartet of newly initiated heroes confront the terror of their freakishly transformed physiques, including super-stretchy limbs, invisibility, and involuntary combustion.

In sharp contrast to the cartoony 2005 film starring Chris Evans and Jessica Alba, Trank actually downplays the more over-the-top qualities of the Fantastic Foursome’s abilities. This counter-intuitive choice ultimately hurts the film — poor Jaime Bell suffers most as rock monster The Thing languishes in the background — but I have to admire how gutsily polar opposite Trank’s “Fantastic Four” movie is from the “Fantastic Four” movie we expect.

Also daring, and kinda dumb for filmmakers catering to comic book lovers who generally want to see their superheroes put the smack down: There is only one major action setpiece in the film, and it comes at the end, and it is a complete mess

Once again, some may see the absence of the genre’s trademark POW!, BANG!, BAM! moments as a flaw, and if box office is what you’re concerned about, that’s a pretty big flaw.

Maybe I’m crazy, but I can’t help but wonder: Could there be a place for a comic book movie that doesn’t offer “Avengers”-style mayhem and destruction roughly every 10 minutes?

Charlie Jane Anders of io9.com declares that “Fantastic Four” is “the most self- loathing superhero movie I’ve ever seen.”

“The new ‘Fantastic Four’ reboot goes beyond darkness, into actual self-loathing,” she writes. “It’s kind of bizarre. … This movie’s central storyline is less a plot, and more a shame spiral.

I think Anders inadvertently pinpoints what is good about “Fantastic Four.”

Why shouldn’t a comic book movie be about shame instead of shallow spectacle? Self-loathing instead of shiny spandex?

Why shouldn’t it push “beyond darkness” into emotional territory that isn’t bizarre so much as it is realistic and even deeply uncomfortable?

Perhaps reviewers are circling “Fantastic Four” like a pack of sharks after a sardine because they don’t know what to make of it.

Photo: sciencefiction.com

 

 

 

 

Artificial Intelligence Gets a Bold, Scary, Feminist Spin in ‘Ex Machina’

Ex Machina
Four stars (out of four)
R (graphic nudity, language, sexual references, some violence)
108 minutes

From Asimov, to “Blade Runner,” to “The Terminator,” makers of science-fiction have long been obsessed with the concept of artificial intelligence and what such a technological development would portend for the human race.

Evolution? Extinction? A combination of both?

In keeping with this storied tradition, A.I. beings good and evil are front and center on the big screen this summer.

In “Avengers: Age of Ultron,” Tony Stark spawns the ultimate peacekeeping program, only to see his creation go haywire and try to wipe out the planet via makeshift meteor.

In July, “Terminator Genisys” reboots the now classic James Cameron thriller about an apocalypse sparked by machines bent on either killing or protecting humans.

Neither of these films, however, serve up a vision of artificial intelligence as chilling, clever or convincing as “Ex Machina,” the impressive debut film of writer-director Alex Garland.

Garland’s A.I. isn’t the typical stuff of Hollywood sci-fi, masterminding mass destruction by robot army, monologuing and generally blowing stuff up.

No, the artificial brain at the controls of “Ex Machina” is more insidious, wielding its mastery of the human mind as a weapon. It is skilled in the power of manipulation and that’s all the power it needs.

Garland is no slouch when it comes to sci-fi. Best known for authoring the novel “The Beach,” he penned Danny Boyle’s “Sunshine” and “28 Days Later,” wrote the “Dredd” remake and adapted Kazuo Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go” for the screen.

“Ex Machina” wears the suffocating shroud of hushed dread that adorns his previous work, but it elevates the filmmaker’s already strong pedigree to another level. It is the sharpest, most original effort of his career so far.

Garland’s direction is refreshingly lean and sleek, wasting no time in establishing an intriguing premise and a setting that drips with atmosphere.

Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), a programmer for a Google-like search engine, learns he’s been selected as the winner of a mysterious contest. His prize is a week at the remote home of his wealthy employer, Nathan Bateman (Oscar Isaac).

As he delightedly arrives by helicopter to Nathan’s vast, stunning mountain estate, the audience shares his awkward position of ignorance and apprehension. What kind of man lives here, amidst the surreal majesty of glaciers, waterfalls and pines, in a compound of the pristine, minimalist architecture you only ever see in movies, a cold, glorious monument of glass, stone and long, dimly-lit corridors?

We’re soon introduced to Caleb’s host, who manages to make his guest — and us — feel simultaneously welcome and deeply uncomfortable as he ushers the young programmer around the eerily unpopulated outpost that will serve as his home for the next seven days.

Nathan isn’t what Caleb or we expected. Part Steve Jobs, part frat boy, he’s actually, if you’ll pardon the expression, kind of a tool. He drinks heavily, says “dude” a lot and displays confounding mood swings. He invites his guest to be a part of his latest research project, but only after signing a daunting nondisclosure agreement.

When Caleb balks at this arrangement, Nathan reveals he’s made an unprecedented breakthrough in the field of artificial intelligence. He’d like his eager, young employee to participate in the Turing test, designed to determine whether an A.I. creation exhibits behavior indistinguishable from human intelligence.

So begin Caleb’s “sessions” with Ava (Alicia Vikander), a strikingly beautiful, uncannily lifelike humanoid who has never ventured beyond the confines of her glass-walled room.

Caleb is immediately astounded by her abilities, but when it comes to discussing the science behind this man-made woman, Nathan proves strangely evasive. He’d rather talk about how Caleb “feels” about Ava, but defining the answer to that question proves frustratingly slippery.

Soon other questions arise, like what’s up with the frequent power outages that strike Nathan’s seemingly impregnable mountain stronghold? Why aren’t there any lab technicians or staff in residence? What’s with the key cards that at once grant and restrict Caleb’s access to the facility?

What does Ava think of Caleb? Who’s really being tested here? And who is Nathan’s oddly compliant, sushi-making sexpot of a personal assistant, really?

From the beginning, “Ex Machina” ravels and unravels its mysteries with the unsettling, unbearable tension of a finely crafted horror movie. Garland is skilled at keeping the viewer in a constant state of uneasiness, using every resource at his disposal.

This includes the film’s marvelous production design, which blends the organic and the artificial in ways that echo the film’s theme of humanity vs. technology — the Juvet Landscape Hotel in Norway provides the jaw-dropping backdrop for Nathan’s mad scientific endeavors — as well as the visual effects and sound design.

With her cherubic face, curvaceous mesh body and vaguely eerie whirrings, Ava is at once alluring and dismaying, and completely believable as the revolutionary discovery Caleb proclaims her to be. Much of the credit for this belongs to Vikander, who captures Ava’s precise, graceful movements and formal, soothing speech patterns while masking her intentions.

Gleeson and Isaac — who will appear together again later this year in “Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens” — engage in an entertaining, ever shifting game of one-upmanship with all the intensity and intimacy of a stage play.

Gleeson’s unassuming likability goes a long way toward disarming the moviegoer, while Isaac injects a bit of weird humor into his character’s darkness.

What I was most surprised by and love the most about “Ex Machina” is its refreshing, incredibly shrewd feminist spin. This is a film that has unexpected and profound things to say about the female mind and body and the way some men see them.

The unpredictable, profoundly satisfying finale turns cliche Hollywood romantic tropes on their head and makes a bold statement about the objectification of women.

And it’s the first time in a long time that the possibility of artificial intelligence actually scared me.

If you dare, go to ava-sessions.com, where you can interact with Ava. She’ll even draw your portrait. 

Photo: http://www.hdwallpapers.in

Are WonderCon Glory Days Already in the Past?

It was a weekend of hellfire and brimstone, and geeks on parade.

It was the only place in the country where you could find scowling street preachers, moms and dads with cute, little Jawas in tow, gender-bending Harley Quinns and Hulks, and ladies in anime finery that made all but the perviest of amateur photographers blush.

It was WonderCon, that annual gathering of comic book nerds and pop culture enthusiasts, where the atmosphere is a weird, entertaining mixture of family friendly and R-rated.

Transforming the Anaheim Convention Center into a colorful sea of celebrities, comic book artists, superheroes, Disney princesses, “Game of Thrones” characters and animated critters, the event wrapped Sunday after three days of movie, TV and manga-inspired madness.

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This was my fourth year at WonderCon, an event I anticipate with relish. I love taking in the unusual sights and sounds of the convention, communing with fellow fangirls and -boys, and letting my enthusiasm for pop culture run wild.

This time around, though, the bloom was off the rose. Maybe I wasn’t in the right mood, or maybe I’m getting old, or maybe I need to take a breather, but the convention is starting to feel a bit repetitive to me.

In 2012, organizer Comic-Con International moved its second largest event from San Francisco to Anaheim, an exciting development for Southern California pop culture enthusiasts. Since then, however, the programming at WonderCon has grown less compelling and less relevant with each year.

This is especially true when it comes to the film-related portion of the convention. Because WonderCon competes with its big sister convention, San Diego Comic-Con, the major Hollywood studios aren’t willing to expend the resources to make appearances at both events.

Disney throws its own convention, D23, so that rules out any Marvel movie or Star Wars presence at WonderCon. Meanwhile, Fox, Warner Bros. and their ilk won’t loan out footage or talent from their most anticipated comic book or sci-fi flicks when they’ll be bringing out the big guns in July at Comic-Con.

Initially, WonderCon organizers managed to scrape together some interesting Q&A sessions and sneak peaks anyway.

In the past, featured films included “Battleship,” “Snow White and the Huntsman,” “The Amazing Spider-Man,” “Prometheus,” “Pacific Rim,” “The Conjuring,” “This is the End,” “Evil Dead,” “Godzilla” and “The Maze Runner.” Stars such as Charlize Theron, Emma Stone, Michael Fassbender and Seth Rogen appeared to discuss their projects.

Those days are apparently over. This year’s Hollywood programming could only be described as dismal.

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Aside from a presentation by horror outfit Blumhouse, the only major movie event at WonderCon this year was a Warner Bros. panel.

What did Warner Bros. deem worthy of showcasing to the thousands of fans who filled the convention center’s flying-saucer-like Arena? Aside from some admittedly electrifying footage from the upcoming “Mad Max: Fury Road,” the studio spent the majority of its (extremely brief) time hawking the cheesy disaster flick “San Andreas,” starring Dwayne Johnson.

The Rock couldn’t be bothered to attend, leaving director Brad Peyton and co-stars Carla Gugino and Alexandra Daddario to congratulate themselves on finding the “emotions” in this ridiculous looking film.

I propose that WonderCon organizers refrain from insulting convention-goers with half-hearted, mediocre offering and just jettison the movie portion of the event. They should focus on their strengths: the comic books, the TV shows, the nerdy Internet phenoms.

That isn’t to say that there wasn’t good stuff to be seen at the 2015 Con. I sat in on a delightful panel for BBC America’s “Orphan Black,” which returns for a third season on April 18.

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There were screenings and signings and sneak peeks galore. Geek icons Felicia Day and Chris Hardwick held audiences spellbound. There were Q&As and special screenings for popular series “Gotham” and “The Flash,” while viewers were courted by newbies “American Odyssey” and “iZombie.”

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The convention’s exhibit hall continues to be an overwhelmingly wondrous place to shop for nerd necessities, like action figures, comic books, T-shirts and pleasingly strange curios, although it does tend to feature the same vendors year after year.

The fans who attend WonderCon never fail to entertain, especially the ones who turn out in the elaborate handmade get-ups that inspire the rest of us to point with childlike glee and whip out our cameras.

My favorites this year included the entire, elaborately costumed team from “Big Hero Six,” a handful of convincing “Game of Thrones” lookalikes, a baby Tank Girl, a couple of tiny Jawas, a fabulous Poison Ivy drag queen and the usual assortment of Star Wars fans, who never fail to pull out all the stops when it comes to wardrobe.

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It has been reported that organizers plan to move the 2016 edition of WonderCon to the Los Angeles Convention Center, a development that raises all kinds of questions for the future of the event.

Will this larger, more Hollywood-centric location inject some much-needed novelty into the event? Perhaps give it the heft it needs to attract stronger programming?

Or will it turn it into the impossible-to-navigate, hyper-commercial circus that San Diego Comic-Con has become?

Only time will tell.

Here’s hoping time will be kind to us, the fans who love WonderCon.

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Photos: Nick Vroman, Lavender Vroman

Defending George as ‘The Force Awakens’

Instead of spending Black Friday fighting over flat-screen TVs at Walmart, I replayed “The Force Awakens” teaser trailer over and over on my phone, along with the rest of the world’s Star Wars nerds.

I analyzed and reanalyzed every detail: Is that Benedict Cumberbatch or Andy Serkis intoning ominously in voiceover? Who is that black-clad figure wielding the coolest lightsaber ever? Is that a droid or a soccer ball?

Then I took to Twitter to find out if I had missed anything. I texted friends and relatives to compare notes. I tried not to get too excited. “Remember the prequels,” I told myself, but it was no use.

In one of those spine-tingling moments that will go down in geek history, I and seemingly every other person on the planet was besotted.

In the days since the big reveal, relief and delight over the fact that “Star Wars: Episode VII” may not be the fiasco we feared has given way to gleeful mockery directed at “Star Wars” creator George Lucas, the man behind the best-loved sci-fi franchise of all time. (You may now start sending me hate mail, Trekkies.)

Dozens of comments on Facebook and Twitter express satisfaction that George can’t touch this new trilogy, J.J. Abrams be praised.

This hilarious version of “The Force Awakens” trailer, parodying the director’s much-loathed “improvements” to his original trio of films, has been circulating.

Also making the rounds, to great amusement, is this befuddling preview for an animated movie hailing “from the mind of George Lucas.” Turns out it’s based on a story he wrote and, yes, it looks pretty terrible.

I understand where all the George bashing comes from and I enjoy poking fun at his missteps as much as anyone. As far as my family is concerned, the filmmaker’s infamous prequels don’t exist and mention of a certain sequel with the words “Crystal” and “Skull” in the title causes physical pain.

Yet I can’t help but feel that Lucas doesn’t deserve such bitter backlash from the very fans who profess to adore his original creation.

This isn’t the first time I’ve defended Lucas. In 2008, I wrote a column arguing the director’s case. Ironically, it was just before the release of “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.”

Even so, I stand by what I wrote then:

(Lucas) has gotten a bad rap over the past decade for his megalomaniacal tendencies, a certain computer-generated abomination called Jar Jar Binks, his mysterious ability to transform capable actors, like Natalie Portman and Samuel L. Jackson, into unfeeling blocks of wood and his inability to stop tampering with the “Star Wars” master prints.

These trespasses are not easily forgiven, but I can’t help but feeling that we have been a little too harsh on the master of the “Star Wars” universe, styling him in our imaginations as a scheming villain holed up at Skywalker Ranch, cackling as he dreams of new and better ways to annoy his adoring fan base.

… Perhaps it would be helpful, not to mention therapeutic, if we remembered all the things we used to like about George, his legendary contributions to the film industry and what his legacy means to us.

Lucas may be a control freak who doesn’t give a fig about what his colleagues or devotees desire, but it’s doubtful he would have accomplished all that he has if he wasn’t so uncompromising.

This is the man who almost single-handedly revolutionized independent filmmaking, championing artistic control with a savvy business deal that allowed him to preserve the “Star Wars” franchise exactly as he envisioned it and make a fortune off the licensing rights.

His technical contributions to the entertainment industry are innumerable. Since the debut of “Star Wars” in 1977, he and his creative team have aggressively advanced the fields of visual effects, sound, editing, digital filmmaking and video games. Industrial Light & Magic, THX, Skywalker Sound, Pixar –they all sprang from the mind of Lucas.

And it’s not as if his extreme wealth and power have driven him to the Dark Side, either. Lucas is a philanthropist, establishing an educational foundation and donating millions to his alma mater, the University of Southern California.

Perhaps the most important thing to remember, however, is that Lucas is the creator of “Star Wars,” “The Empire Strikes Back,” “Return of the Jedi” and the Indiana Jones trilogy, six films that have inspired and continue to inspire generations of lifelong movie lovers.

“Star Wars” was the movie that first introduced this critic to the wondrous possibilities of the cinema. “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” was the film that showed her how much fun you could have in a movie theater.

… I must confess that I have nothing but gratitude for him.

Perhaps it’s time we showed more respect for the mind that spawned the little space opera that has become not just a series of movies, but a pop cultural touchstone, a lifestyle, a shared language, practically a religion.

This guy invented the Millennium Falcon, the lightsaber, R2-D2, Darth Vader, Yoda and Boba Fett. He breathed life into a galaxy far, far away with rudimentary but revolutionary special effects that still hold up. He inspired John Williams’ epic, instantly recognized musical score. His depiction of the battle between good and evil — a battle that rages inside all of us — is timeless.

So I’ll say it again.

Thanks, George.

 

 

 

Welcome to the Movies, Baby Girl

It’s a time-honored right of passage in the modern age — a child’s first movie.

Dad’s got the booster seat and popcorn. Mom’s praying they’ll make it to the end credits without a meltdown. The kid is simultaneously awestruck, bored and overwhelmed by the need to pee. It’s a beautiful thing.

I have hazy but evocative memories of my early cinematic experiences — the horror of Maleficent in “Sleeping Beauty,” the trauma of “Bambi,” unimpressed by “Annie,” bewildered and fascinated by the stop-motion monsters of “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.”

My daughter is nearly 9 months old and far too young to go to the movies, let alone watch them in earnest at home. But this movie-loving mama is dreaming of the days when she’ll be old enough that I can share my favorite films with her.

In anticipation, I’ve penned this letter.

Dear Baby Girl,

You may think now that the world is a pretty wonderful place, but wait until you discover a little thing we like to call the movies. Your life will never be the same.

Here are the movies I can’t wait to show you, just as soon as you’re old enough.

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The Original “Star Wars” Trilogy,” 1977-1983: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away … there was “Star Wars,” and the Force was with it and it changed your mommy’s life. At the late-blooming age of 14, your mama saw “Episode IV — A New Hope.” It wasn’t even in the theater. It was on TV, but the spectacle of this galactic battle of good vs. evil sparked in your mother an enduring awareness of the power of the movies.

It’s gratifying to see that, all these years later, kids are still discovering and loving George Lucas’ little space opera. If I had my way, you’d never hear a word about those so-called “prequels,” but for better or worse, “Star Wars” lives on, and on, and on, and on … . There will soon be yet another “Star Wars” trilogy for your generation, my dear. I hope it’s worthy of you.

(And once you’ve met Han, Luke and Leia, there’s a certain fedora-wearing archaeologist I’m dying for you to meet.)

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“Beauty and the Beast,” 1991: Child, let me tell you a story. You know how everyone feels about “Frozen”? How they can’t stop singing the songs, can’t stop talking about Anna and Elsa and Olaf, how they get excited every time they hear “Let It Go”?

Well, child, that is how your mama feels about “Beauty and the Beast.”

For some of us, it remains the quintessential Disney animated classic, having hit theaters at that pivotal point in our childhoods when we believed in magic and true love and happily ever afters. Gorgeously animated with unforgettable music — Idina Menzel’s got nuthin’ on Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson — and a peasant-turned-princess who is smart, compassionate and loves to read, this fairy tale can’t be topped.

I hope you adore it and want to be just like Belle. The end.

Except that’s not the end because there are dozens and dozens of other Disney classics I can’t wait for you to experience, from “Snow White” to “The Little Mermaid” to “Tangled.” And then there are the Pixar movies, and the Disney-Pixar movies, and the live-action Disney movies, like “Mary Poppins” and “Pete’s Dragon.” Thank Walt — these movies will bring you joy for a lifetime.

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All the Miyazaki Movies, 1984-2013: Once you’ve seen the Disney movies, baby, it will be time to graduate to the beautiful, dreamlike world of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli, films like “My Neighbor Tortoro,” “Spirited Away” and “Howl’s Moving Castle.”

Yes, these exquisitely hand-drawn marvels can be dark and strange, but it will be good for you to discover that there are different, more inventive ways to tell stories, that other cultures are full of delights to discover and that imagination is boundless and will transport you to new and exciting places.

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The “Harry Potter” Movies, 2001-2011: You’ll read the books first, of course, and when you do it will be one of the definitive moments of your life. I’m a firm believer that J.K. Rowling’s epic series of heroism, magic and wonder is timeless, a classic any generation will respond to. Warner Bros.’ fine movie adaptations will help you relive the enchantment.

Unlike some parents, I don’t worry that you’ll pick up some witchcraft by watching them. I only hope you’ll learn what it means to be a friend, to be loyal and to choose the light over the darkness.

For that same reason, I can’t wait until you’re old enough to be spellbound by Peter Jackson’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. These movies brought comfort to your mother and millions of others in dark times. I hope they’ll do the same for you.

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“Casablanca,” 1942, and “Singin’ in the Rain,” 1952: When it comes to classic movies, honey, your fate has been pretty well sealed. It just so happens you were born to a mother who binges on Turner Classic Movies instead of soap operas or the CW.

There are so many old movies I want you to see  — “Bringing Up Baby,” “Roman Holiday,” anything starring Fred and Ginger, everything by Hitchcock. I don’t want you to be one of those kids who automatically dismisses a film because it’s black and white or because it’s too “old-fashioned.”

I’ll start with “Casablanca” because I’d like you to know there is at least one perfect movie in this world. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

And I’ll finish with “Singin’ in the Rain” because it is one of the most exuberant, funny, irresistible musicals ever made. I hope you sing “Good Morning” and “Moses Supposes” to me until my ears bleed.

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“Alien,” 1979: If I have anything to do with it, you won’t be seeing Ridley Scott’s supreme sci-fi thriller for many, many years. I don’t want you to have to go to therapy to get over the sight of one of the slimiest, nastiest, scariest movie monsters in cinema history.

But when you’re old enough, there will be a time to watch “Alien.” I want you to know that, like Sigourney Weaver’s tough, resourceful and determined Ripley, you can be the hero of your story.

And here are just a few more, because it’s so hard to narrow down this list:

“The Princess Bride,” 1987: Because someday when you’re no longer a child, this hilarious and sweet fairy tale will help you find that childlike joy again.

“Back to the Future,” 1985: If you don’t see Robert Zemeckis’ ultimate time travel romp, it will cause a rift in the space-time continuum and Marty McFly and Doc Brown will have to go back — or is that forward? — and fix it.

“The Goonies,” 1985: This ’80s classic will inspire you to seek your own adventures. And because the Truffle Shuffle. And Goonies never say die.

“E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial,” 1982: At first, Steven Spielberg’s kid-pleasing gem will scare the living daylights out of you. E.T. is cute, but also creepy in a wrinkly sort of way. Once you overcome those fears — and a possible aversion to Reese’s Pieces — this kiddie classic will teach your little heart how to feel.

“Hugo,” 2011: This film is so lovely and whimsical and tells the story of the movies that mommy loves in a way I think you’ll understand. Besides, this is the only film by the great Martin Scorsese that I want you to see until you’re at least … I don’t know … 35?

All my love,

Mama

What movies were you most excited to share with the kids in your life? What movies are you looking forward to showing them?

Come and Get Your ‘Guardians’ Love

Guardians of the Galaxy
Three and a half stars (out of four)
PG-13 (intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action, some language)
121 minutes

Everybody loves The Avengers, but let’s face it. When it comes to personality, the members of Marvel’s prize superhero team are kind of square. Patriots, Asgardian princes and scientists with anger issues are only so interesting. Even the wise-cracking Tony Stark is a bazillionaire and a genius. Not very easy to relate to.

Maybe that’s why the ensemble of sorry wretches at the heart of “Guardians of the Galaxy” is so appealing. It’s made up of outlaws and losers, like Drax the Destroyer (played by wrestler Dave Bautista), an elaborately tattooed muscleman who is out for vengeance and takes everything extremely literally. Naturally, this is the source of much hilarity.

Then there’s Gamora (Zoe Saldana in butt-kicking mode), a green-skinned mercenary with daddy issues. After all, she’s the adopted daughter of Thanos, the wrinkly, purple baddie first glimpsed in the end credits of “The Avengers.”

Even weirder are Rocket, a resourceful, genetically-modified talking raccoon with a temper (his feisty voice is supplied by Bradley Cooper), and his best pal, Groot (Vin Diesel), a self-regenerating tree — just go with it –- who is surprisingly clever but boasts a limited vocabulary.

The merry ringmaster of this improbably lovable menagerie is Peter Quill, who also goes by the cocky alias “Star-Lord.” In an immensely winning performance, Chris Pratt plays Quill as a roguishly charming space pilot in the mold of Harrison Ford’s swaggering, self-obsessed Han Solo. Truly, a star is born.

To say that “Guardians” director James Gunn was influenced by the early work of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg is an understatement. Adapted from one of Marvel’s more obscure properties, the movie is a rollicking sci-fi-fantasy space opera with a rascally, retro vibe that recalls the original Indiana Jones and Star Wars flicks.

The film’s opening scene, in which Quill parts a valuable relic from its temple pedestal on the planet Morag, is pure “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” goosed to the groove of Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love.”  A sequence set in a mining colony faintly echoes that wretched hive of scum and villainy, the Mos Eisley Cantina. There are thrilling space battles galore, and Rocket and Groot are basically C-3PO and R2-D2 with more attitude.

With its population of extraterrestrials in a rainbow of skin tones and its intergalactic fashions — that’s some wig, Glenn Close! — “Guardians” also calls to mind “Star Trek” … on crack … as Gunn pokes into the freakiest corners of the Marvel Universe. But the film never feels derivative and it’s a ton of fun.

Based on the comic book series by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning, the movie begins on a somber note with the death of young Star-Lord’s mother. That formative chapter in Peter Quill’s life is followed by another major event, the arrival of a spacecraft sent by his long absent father to retrieve his son from Earth.

Cut to the grown Quill, who is now quite comfortable living in outerspace. To his chagrin, his Star-Lord alias is met with disdain by most residents of the galaxy, thanks to his reputation as a rather smug smuggler who frequently runs afoul of the law.

Quill is after his latest score — a coveted silver orb — when he literally collides with Gamora, who has been sent to retrieve the object for Thanos’ ally, Ronan (Lee Pace).

Ronan is the genocidal leader of warrior race the Kree and he’s also the movie’s weakest link. Pace, who was so adorable on “Pushing Daisies” but now specializes in playing menacing fantasy monarchs (see his elf king, Thranduil, in “The Hobbit” trilogy), doesn’t do a whole lot besides make cartoonishly dire pronouncements in a very deep voice. He also glowers at equally blue hench-lady Nebula. (Yes, Doctor Who fans, that is Karen Gillan, aka Amy Pond, under all that makeup.)

Ronan is after the same thing every Marvel villain seems to be after. I don’t think it’s a huge spoiler to reveal that it’s an infinity stone. I know these glowing MacGuffins are one of the things that unify all the films in the franchise, but am I the only one who’s getting sick of them?

Back to the plot: While Gamora is after Quill in order to collect the orb, Rocket and Groot are after him as well, hoping to collect the bounty on his head. In the process, the whole posse winds up in prison, where they are joined by Drax and work together to mastermind one of the most entertaining jailbreaks in recent cinematic memory. Normally, these guys are out for themselves, but when they realize what will happen to their galaxy if Ronan gets his hands on the orb, they make an uneasy pact to save the place they call home.

After cutting his teeth on dark comic book satire “Super” and low-budget horror flick “Slither,” Gunn penned the “Guardians” script with Nicole Perlman, who is rumored to be toiling on a Black Widow spin-off for Marvel. (That could bode very, very well.)

Gunn and Perlman’s “Guardians” screenplay is hilarious and kinda sweet and just when it starts to get too cheesy, the director pulls it back from the brink with the perfect dose of snark and playful visual effects that put the considerable skills of the film’s VFX crew on eye-popping display.

The movie’s best device is a nostalgic one. Because Quill is from Earth, he’s constantly making references that baffle his alien buddies but connect with the audience, especially anyone who fondly remembers Troll dolls, the Walkman and Kevin Bacon in “Footloose.”

The film’s tone is dictated largely by its inspired soundtrack, built around Quill’s beloved Awesome Mix Tape of ’70s and ’80s pop.

Just be prepared. You will never, ever get “Hooked on a Feeling” out of your head again. It’s the new “Let It Go.