FilmJerk Favorites

A group of unique directors and the essential works that you've got to see.

||| Andrei Tarkovsky |||
Andrei Tarkovsky

Tarkovsky's contemplative, metaphysical films, more experienced than watched, are perhaps best described in the director's own words: sculptures in time.

In the post-apocalypse, a writer and scientist hire a "stalker" to guide them into The Zone, a mysterious and restricted wasteland with fabled, alien properties. Their journey, captured by Tarkovsky as a succession of incredible images, has, since, been read as political commentary, religious allegory, and Chernobyl prophesized.

Tarkovsky's visionary biography of the 15th-century icon painter is one of cinema's most majestic and solemn experiences. In some way, it will change you.

An adaptation of Stanis?aw Lem's novel of the same name, Tarkovsky's genre-less sci-fi film, which is set mostly aboard a space station hovering off a strange planet, tangles with issues of identity, death and reality in a way that will leave you agape, in the full meaning.

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The Final Season

By BrianOrndorf

October 11th, 2007

Based on a true story, "The Final Season" is much better with baseball than it is with humans.

The Final Season

In the small farming community of Norway, Iowa, the local high school baseball team has been on an unprecedented run of championships, led by monolithic coach Jim Van Scoyoc (Powers Boothe). When the school board (including a Rachael Leigh Cook) seeks to merge Norway’s school with a larger district, the locals revolt, leaving the final season of baseball a potential mess. To help sink morale and ease the school transition, an unproven coach, Kent Stock (Sean Astin), is brought in to lead the team and, along with a troubled teen outsider named Mitch (Michael Angarano). They end up turning the fortunes of Norway around with their winning ways, bringing renewed hope to the town for a 20th consecutive championship title.

Director David M. Evans has already demonstrated some aptitude for baseball cinema, having helmed the 1993 cult family hit “The Sandlot” and its 2005 DTV sequel. The game seems second nature to Evans, so it’s no surprise to find “Final Season” works much more fluidly as a scrappy underdog baseball story than it does as a motion picture of clumsy emotional manipulation.

Let’s be frank here: Evans is a lousy filmmaker who’s never met a cliché he didn’t cling to like a hungry infant to a bottle of warm milk. Over the length of his career, Evans has established his fear of distinct artistic growth, preferring the safe passage of formula to comfort himself and his audience. “Final Season” is the perfect vehicle for him, since it’s nothing but a slow unfurling of familiarity.

The mushy sameness only hurts “Final Season” when the film strolls away from the baseball diamond. Watching the screenplay pass around Midwestern small town caricatures (The “I Ain’t Did No Book Learnin’” Farmer, The Priest, The Wise “Take No BS” Grandfather) is demoralizing, not only because we’ve seen these people a million times before, but it’s also disheartening to watch the film view even the slightest morsel of sophistication as poison that will block the picture from reaching the softest minds. Formula can work when brewed correctly, but “Final Season” merely kicks the bucket over and assumes it’s drilling straight to the core of the audiences’ heart.

How obvious can the movie get? Evans introduces the character of Mitch, the redemptive bad boy of the story, in a black leather jacket smoking cigarettes. Might as well write “No Good” on his forehead and have him kick a puppy to make sure everyone gets it.

Thankfully, Evans is stronger with his baseball sequences, which ring true to the community spirit of small town ball and the thrill of the game. Bolstered by a winningly confident authoritarian turn by Sean Astin, “Final Season” delivers large on the game sequences. Evans shows a real love for the details, with the rich green of the grass, the constant passage of trains in the outfield, and the comfort of the home field dirt, which the boys end up carrying with them to the final championship game in a divine tribute sequence.

It’s easy to see “Final Season” has a huge heart, and the story of Norway is ripe for dramatic adaptation. Yet, by making the film so obvious, in an attempt to violently extract the elementary points of joy out of the story, “Final Season” stumbles aimlessly instead of storming the emotional receptors like its great baseball cinema brethren.

My rating: C+