Star Trek IV
This, for the uninitiated, is "The One with the Whales." Or, if you please, "The One Even Non-Trekkies Like." Leonard Nimoy took the helm of the Star Trek franchise with 1986's The Voyage Home, and the result was the best that the franchise had to offer, at least for another decade. This film ended the Khan Trilogy that saw the crew of the NCC-1701 encounter the swarthy supervillain, resulting in the death of Spock, the birth of a planet, the birth of Spock, the death of a planet, the death of Kirk's son David, and the theft of the property of both the United Federation of Planets and the Klingon Empire. Sheesh, Jim. On their way back to San Francisco to face a number of charges from Starfleet, the Enterprise crew finds that a giant cigar and a volleyball the size of the moon are trying to talk to humpback whales, which are now extinct. Seriously, that's the real plot; read it again if you must. The solution: slingshot around the sun at 88 miles-per-hour, sending the commandeered Bird of Prey back to, oh, let's say 1986 where Kirk and crew can take some whales back to the future to repopulate the species. Nimoy has our heroes let their hair down here, easing the sci-fi franchise into comedy as the crew bumbles through the past, letting loose "colorful metaphors" while Russians ask cops where to find nuclear weapons at the height of the Cold War. The story is silly, and the film's conclusion is rushed and predictable, but I'll be damned if this isn't the most pure fun we get out of the Star Trek franchise. This, unlike every other Original Series film, is where the characters outshine the story.
Wonder Boys
The hardest part of watching Tobey Maguire in the Spider-Man franchise is that to me he is not Peter Parker but instead James Leer, oddball and good friend…really good friend to Robert Downey, Jr. Wonder Boys is hard to describe. Michael Douglas is a writer and professor in Pittsburgh, where his next novel, the follow-up to his only successful publication, continues to be written and written and written…his page numbers are now well into four digits. Two of his students are the aforementioned Mr. Maguire and Katie Holmes; the former has no friends and no guidance, and Douglas feels the need to take him under his wing, sort of like he's done with the latter, who sleeps in his house (but not like that, and always in boots for some reason.) Douglas is too busy avoiding his ex and sleeping with the Chancellor (Frances McDormand) while his editor (Downey) tries to get him to finish his book. Wonder Boys, from Curtis Hanson (L.A. Confidential, 8 Mile) is offbeat, quirky and wonderful, filled with original characters and situations that make the movie stand out like few others. It helps that there is no inherent A-to-B-to-C structure; we do move chronologically, but within that we find ourselves bouncing from Douglas's house to a party at the Chancellors', then to bar where Douglas has his hood jumped on (a favorite pastime of mine) before he loses his entire novel to the wind. The plot matters little; Hanson's film is about the people, specifically Douglas and Maguire, one a wonder boy trying to rediscover his magic touch, the other a wonder boy just beginning to develop his in the first place.
Ocean's Eleven
This is cool. The next time you're asked to define the term, just point here, to Steven Soderbergh's Rat Pack remake where George Clooney and Brad Pitt glide effortlessly through a Vegas heist, hair barely matted by the "bad" guys. Clooney's just out of the klink and itching for cash, so with Elliot Gould bankrolling them, he and Pitt organize a group of proper villains to knock off three Vegas casinos and walk away with a cool hundred-and-sixty million. The crew, featuring Carl Reiner, Matt Damon, Bernie Mac and Don Cheadle among others, joins Julia Roberts and casino owner Andy Garcia to make this a star-packed film, and for once we're not distracted by all the Hollywood glitz. Rather, the stars help prop up the cool factor, as Soderbergh slides effortlessly from scene to scene, with voiceovers, sharp music, dark lighting and offbeat dissolves moving us along quickly, as two hours pass in what seems to be a mere heartbeat. The movie is structured perfectly; watching the recruitment of the crew, followed by the planning and finally the execution, you're in awe of how Soderbergh is showing us not only the story but how awesome he and his actors can be. Ocean's Eleven's plot is shaky and hard to believe at times, barely standing up at the end, but this is pop culture entertainment at its height; the sparkle of Vegas, neat cameos, fun dialogue, inside jokes (like Pitt's insistence on constantly eating in most of his films) and just how goddamn cool everyone here is, from Garcia in his too-rich-for-your-blood clothes to Brad Pitt as he segues from gaming board commissioner to doctor. Considering Soderbergh brought us this film the same year he produced Traffic, screw the Rat Pack. I'll take Steve over Frank and Dean any day of the week.