Movie Review: Oz the Great and Powerful

Oz the Great and Powerful aims high yet hits well short of its goal. In a world of glossy and often times garish 3D CGI-fest remakes, Oz makes a good companion to Alice in Wonderland in 3D and Jack the Giant Slayer in 3D, but unfortunately their club isn't an illustrious one.

The movie centers around James Franco's Oz, who plays the Wizard with enough ham for a Christmas feast. He goes from painfully over the top to somewhat over the top and back again at regular intervals. He is so obviously pulling a fast one on the women characters that his performance is devoid of any real charm, making you wonder what not one, not two, but three ladies see in the guy.

Oz the Mean and Pitiful.

Michelle Williams is capable of delivering some knockout performances with her ability to show off her sultry flair while masking an unspoken troubledness in movies such as My Week with Marilyn and Brokeback Mountain. Yet her Glinda is unengaging, mistaking calmness for strength. She plays the part with such frigidity that you might think she's Narnia's icy White Witch instead of the Good Witch of the South.

Mila Kunis plays Theodora, who starts out as a vulnerable doe-eyed young woman wearing her heart on her sleeve, only to have that heart broken as easily as a piece of straw after being wooed by the unsexy Oz. It's a discredit to Kunis that her Theodora is so easily heart-broken by what amounts to a middle school crush. After seeing her play the sexually unafraid Lily in Black Swan, it's clear she can deliver a more engrossing performance than what we see here. This movie is for kids, yes, but that doesn't mean it can't make us feel something.

It's not a stretch to believe that Kunis's upbeat energy and instant charm would have made her the better Glinda, while the ability for Williams to channel a deeply troubled young woman would have made her the better Theodora. 

"You shall not cast... me in the right role."

[Beware of spoilers below!]

In a blink-and-you-missed-it downfall into "darkness," Theodora is tricked into becoming the iconic green skinned, pointy-hat-wearing villain. This is the downfall of the movie. Kunis as the Wicked Witch of the West is the worst casting choice since Topher Grace as crybaby Venom in Spider-Man 3. Heath Ledger surprised us with his take on the Joker and that unsettling laugh. Kunis' signature cackle is dubbed over with some computer generated sound effect. They give her piercing yellow eyes, frighteningly arced eyebrows, and a long hooked nose, making her look more like a super model gone wrong than an ugly witch.

If you wanted to make Kunis come off any worse on screen, then you would put her next to the ever-impressive Rachel Weisz, who plays her role as sister Evanora with devilishly smooth conviction. Each of her lines drip with sweet venom, diffusing them of their cheesiness and empowering them with a serious-yet-fun tone that the rest of the movie lacks. She's the best witch, and without an ounce of makeup.

Weisz looking more Witchy-Bitchy than the girl in all the makeup.

The supporting cast consists of an annoying monkey played by Zach Braff, a one note Munchkin, and a surprisingly funny porcelain doll named China Girl. China Girl's best moments are ones where she drops her cutesy demeanor to kick Oz in the shins or pull out a tiny doll-sized knife. She is the most engaging character of the movie along with Evanora, which is saying something.

The plot is full of faux-twists and big moments that don't feel earned. It follows a path we've seen time and time again, to the point where you'll be able to predict the outcome beat for beat by the half-way point. Director Sam Raimi is known for camp, horror, and camp, and unfortunately he doesn't deliver near enough of either here. His mishandling of the female cast members reminds you that he's never given cinema any notable woman characters, while his safe approach that emphasized 3D landscapes over an engaging story reminds you that the big studio that funded this picture probably called most of the shots.

Why Do We Love Lightsabers?

In my last post I started to talk about Disney buying Star Wars, but I ended up talking about my fascination with lightsabers. I'm sure I'm not the first fanboy that's happened to. But I think I was onto something. What is it about lightsabers that makes everyone go gaga over them? Fans have made countless YouTube videos of the various movie light saber fights, bought or made light saber replicas of their own, and filmed themselves fighting with them against their friends in the backyard.

In the original trilogy, a lightsaber was truly something special. There were only four different sabers in the entire trilogy and only three people who could use them. A majority of the action centered around the use of blasters and space fighter ships, with lightsabers only making an appearance in special encounters. Luke used a blaster most of the time, even after his Jedi training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back. It wasn't until he had mastered his abilities by The Return of the Jedi that he depended on it exclusively.

That was a gross error of the prequels. Everyone had a lightsaber. Even the kids! Although I wager those were non-lethal training sabers, assuming there is such a thing. But lightsabers were so prevalent that they lost their impact as the weapon of a highly skilled warrior. Did you notice how Gandalf rarely used magic in The Lord of the Rings? He hardly seemed like a wizard until that bit with the Balrog in The Fellowship of the Ring, but man when he cut loose it was awe-inspiring. That's why when dozens of Jedi were running across the screen with lightsabers in Attack of the Clones it didn't feel as awesome as it should have. In fact, it felt depressing to see so many "highly skilled warriors" go down while wielding everyone's favorite glowing sword. How special could those Jedi have been if they went down so easy?

Lightsabers go beyond Star Wars as to why they are so loved. Throughout all manner of story and legend, special swords are a recurring theme. Most notable is the Sword in the Stone from Arthurian legend. A special blade with great power destined to be wielded by a single owner. The same sort of feeling came when Obi-Wan Kenobi gave Anakin's lightsaber to Luke. It was a sacred family heirloom. A continuation of a legacy. Something that was unique and important because it was destined to be passed down to Luke when he came of age. And only Luke could wield it because of his predisposition to the Force. It's not the exact same story as King Arthur, but it has the same basic principles.

The list of important swords goes on: Link's Master Sword, Lion-O's Sword of Omens, Aragorn's Narsil reforged into Anduril, Harry Potter's Sword of Gryffindor. But where the lightsaber trumps other blades is how it looks, operates, and cuts. A glowing blade looks cool enough as it is, but imagery of a sword of light can be found dating all the way back to ancient times. Old paintings show angels wielding fiery blades to banish sinners. The lightsaber has religious undertones resonating off of it without even trying.

 
It's sleek and compact silver handle is easy to store and even hide up your sleeve, like we saw Emperor Palpatine do in Revenge of the Sith. And who do you know who hasn't made that "tssch" sound of a lightsaber igniting and the "bzzz" of its laser hum? It's practically alive with sci-fi magic. The lightsaber can cut through anything but another lightsaber, enforcing that its wielder can overcome any obstacle. One who uses a lightsaber can also deflect the laser bolts of lesser men's puny guns. It's a weapon of supreme power in both symbolism and practicality. You can imagine why so many fans, myself included, lost their shit when Darth Maul whipped out a double-bladed lightsaber. All that stuff I just talked about TIMES TWO!

If Episode VII is going to be a success, it's vital that they tone down the lightsabers. Make the movies about something else than different scenarios that call for the characters to whip them out. This problem might solve itself simply based on the fact that Luke is a lone Jedi in the universe. It's hard to say how much time will have passed in between films VI and VII, but even if in that time he set out to rebuild the Jedi Order, there couldn't be more than a handful of Jedi. And all for the better.