Henry Cavill certainly looks like Superman. He’s handsome, almost distractingly so, sports a ripped physique that adheres closer to Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine than any previous incarnation of the role. The Brit even speaks the part affecting a perfect American accent with the necessary gravitas to make everything he says sound meaningful. But that’s where compliments end for Man of Steel.

Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster’s iconic superhero is given the bigger is better treatment in this updated version for moviegoers raised on Transformers films. Zack “I directed 300” Snyder has taken courses at the Michael Bay school for directors where spectacle is key and damn any coherence or dialogue that gets in the way. Loud noise is more important than the story. Millions of dollars gloriously spent to envision beautifully designed worlds of breathtaking 3D graphics only to be obliterated in some fantastic assault of bombs, explosions and mayhem. A bombastic excess where even Superman’s cape is digitally animated. Snyder’s aesthetic is money and spend lots of it

Man of Steel is an overinflated packed to the rafters display of computer generated imagery (CGI) that makes Transformers seem like Forbidden Planet by comparison. The CGI is ridiculously wild and unchecked. A full third of this film is fight scenes. Not exciting ones, but blurry, relentless onslaughts that are hard to follow. I think I counted three epic battles but honestly one conflict blurs indistinguishably into the next. Their sole purpose exists so Snyder can blow stuff up. The wanton annihilation of buildings in the climax doesn’t even appear to be Planet Earth anymore. At one point Superman wrestles with tentacles in the center of the globe as some rocket machine deconstructs the earth’s atmosphere to that of an alien planet. The whole spectacle is so removed from anything organic, it doesn’t even exist as a live action movie with human actors. More like a virtual 3D universe populated by automatons rendered by a computer program.

The obscene amount of CGI-enhanced activity might’ve been tolerable if it served a coherent story. Unfortunately following the haphazard chronology is a task in itself. Good luck figuring out what time period we‘re in. The films was apparently edited in a blender. First we’re on Krypton, then we’re on an oil rig with an adult Clark Kent, now Clark is a kid in school overwhelmed by his powers, suddenly he‘s older rescuing his classmates from a bus. Now he’s Superman in the Arctic. Now back as a child again with his parents near a tornado. The script flash forwards, then back, then forward and back again, back and forth, back and forth over and over to the point of complete incoherence. The movie is an attention punishing 143 minutes and you feel every single one of them.

Part of the reason the story is so mind numbingly long is because the plot spends an inordinate amount of time delving into Kryptonian society, and explaining the sociopolitical and ecological situation before the planet’s destruction. Just what I want to see in a Superhero film. How about some scenes inside the Kryptonian Senate while they vote on various bills and legislation? Last time I checked this was called Man of Steel but it’s a full hour before he even dons the suit and near the very end before someone clearly calls him Superman. Even then it’s used as more of a throwaway joke.

There are moments where the script attempts to convey Superman’s inner conflict. The narrative tries to present Superman’s undying love for the people of his adoptive planet earth. But his devotion never makes sense. He experiences overwhelming rejection from the faceless masses his whole life. We’re given infrequent glimpses of his interactions with the human population. School bullies tease him as a child, a bar patron humiliates him (shades of Superman II), the military wants to give him up to uber villain General Zod. This is predicted in early scenes by his father (Kevin Costner) who warns him: “People are afraid of what they don’t understand.” We comprehend why Superman isn’t accepted, but not why he still cares for the citizens of this foreign world called Earth. The population disregards him so thoroughly. We have no reason to sympathize, to care, or even to watch.

The movie is the creation of sterile perfectionism. The actors are pretty, everyone hits their marks, says their lines and does exactly what is asked of them. It exhibits slick professionalism but not art. The picture has no essence. There is no warmth, no wit, no humor, no joy. The only thing more offensive than the vulgar reliance on special effects in this flick, are the product placement deals. Word has it that it earned $160 million even before it ever played in a single theater due to all the advertising negotiations made. It doesn’t come without a cost. Superman literally has a fight that starts at 7-Eleven, heads over to IHOP afterwards, then wraps at Sears. All the while the aforementioned businesses conspicuously pop up in scenes where the action is a muddy blur but their beaming signs are clear as day. There is no spark of life to be found in Man of Steel. It is a soulless product bought and paid for by the Hollywood machine.

One of the ingenuities of the script is that the stars are in fact playing James Franco, Jonah Hill, Seth Rogen, Jay Baruchel, Danny McBride and Craig Robinson, or rather an alternate reality version of themselves. The riffs on their own personae is a smart idea. The cast encompasses virtually anyone who has ever appeared in a Judd Apatow production. There’s also a few new additions to keep things fresh. I suspect there is more accuracy to some characterizations than others. Michael Cera for example spoofs his timid nice guy image as a cocaine snorting, sexually preoccupied creep. It’s absolutely bonkers. On the contrary, Jay Baruchel’s insecurity as a lesser star, that prevents him from bonding with Seth Rogen’s celebrity buddies has a ring of truth to it.  The screenwriters aren’t afraid to make fun of themselves or their own bad movies (The Green Hornet, Your Highness) either. It’s self depreciating in other ways too. The very plot condemns our heroes as unfit for heaven. While the devout are beamed up body and soul, everyone at the party is left behind to fend for themselves.

The set up of This is the End is brilliant. The plot exists as sort of a series of comedy sketches. The script pays homage to movies of the past. Clever send-ups abound for knowing film buffs including The Exorcist, Ghostbusters and a scene from Rosemary’s Baby that’s mostly a shot for shot copy with one slight modification. Poor Jonah Hill. By fashioning the majority of the satire inside an LA home, it gives our 6 stars the opportunity to monologue on a variety of subjects. Much of their interactive banter is side-splitting. Franco and McBride’s verbal sparring over the mishandling of an adult magazine devolves into a conversation of unbalanced insanity. It’s refreshing that while their conversations are frequently accusatory they never devolve into mean-spiritedness. As they exhibit a jovial camaraderie in the face of mounting danger, you always get the feeling these guys still like each other. Their 6 personalities give the audience someone with which to identify and /or appreciate. However that doesn’t mean everyone behaves with the best of intentions. Danny Mc Bride basically becomes the worst person who ever lived.

Stoner movie, slacker comedy, the arrested development of grown men in their 30s. It’s a tradition that perhaps started in 1978 with National Lampoon’s Animal House and has continued with last year’s Ted.  This is the End compares favorably with those works. No this isn’t highbrow stuff.  Admittedly, it can be puerile and jejune at times. All the soporific humor gets a bit excessive. And the running time could use the benefits of an editor. It drags for about 20 minutes before the final act (which is thankfully inspired). But the overall theme promotes a redemptive heart. After all, these people were forsaken when the faithful were being taken up into heaven during the rapture. There’s brilliance in its simple truths. For example — James Franco attempting to explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity to his confused friend. “It’s like Neapolitan ice cream.” More often than not this riff on the end of the world is a funny, and even insightful, sketch comedy. A model of the genre that deserves to be the most quotable film of 2013.

A majority of the cast have fully developed personalities. What makes The East so captivating is the perceptive screenplay.  Credit  star Brit Marling who co-writes and produces with director Zal Batmanglij, the same duo responsible for 2011’s Sound of My Voice. As our lead protagonist Sarah, she’s an appealing presence, smart and attractive, capable of handling herself in rough situations . She prays for guidance to do what is right and acts with her conscience. We experience the faction through her eyes, judging everything she experiences. It’s a carefully modulated window into a world not many have experienced. As she extracts information / develops friendships, these characters become complex individuals. Alexander Skarsgård is their cultish leader. To emphasize the point, he sports Jesus-like hair and beard. We’re first introduced to him at a dinner scene involving straitjackets. It’s a memorable introduction to his methods. He has earned a dedicated loyalty from his followers. These include Doc (Toby Kebbell) and Izzy (Ellen Page), both of which offer detailed backstories to explain why they’re part of this collective.

When I originally saw the trailer for The East, I figured it would be a “horror” film recounting violent revenge “The East” exacted on evil companies they determined should be taken to task. But the way the plot unfolds it’s more of a character examination balancing the principles of environmental terrorists with those of a corporate spy concerned about their “eye for an eye” mentality.  It’s natural to champion the environment, but hardly anyone would go to the limits of these radicals.  We see these activists operate on the far end on the protester spectrum. They break into a gasoline mogul’s mansion and dump crude oil through the air-conditioning vents. Later they lace the champagne of employees at a drug manufacturer’s party with their own questionable medication. Their extreme behavior is not something most people would advocate. Yet we grow to understand their motivations and their viewpoint. On this converse side, we also appreciate Sarah’s dilemma as she starts to sympathize with her criminal zealots and their alarming objectives. There are some issues. You might say that Brit Marling as Sarah ingratiates herself into the group a bit too easily. Also, the narrative is tidied up at the conclusion in a couple hastily presented scenes that don’t do the nuanced story any favors. But more often than not this portrait is a brilliant study that handles multiple characters with deft and precision. Few films have accomplished this so skillfully in 2013.

An hour after watching Epic, it was already fading from memory. The cast is made up of famous actors that turn in vapid voice work in exchange for a paycheck. Colin Farrell and Beyoncé Knowles are major stars. They charm in real life, but their voices are so bland here. The leader of the Leaf-Men and Queen of the Forest should be captivating, but their personalities only cause drowsiness. Don’t drive or operate heavy machinery under the effects of this movie. Aziz Ansari and Chris O’Dowd are a slug and snail respectively, but they should’ve been listed as hackneyed sidekick characters #1 and #2. They’re the comic relief but I didn’t hear a single child laugh in my theater. I suppose the script is the actual culprit.

This generic tale of good vs. evil  has been done countless times with more innovation and appeal. The story is lackluster in the extreme. Couldn’t the screenwriters have tried a little harder to come up with something interesting? The best lesson they can come up with is: “Many leaves, one tree; we’re all individuals, but we’re still connected.” Zzzzzzzz. It’s a shame because what the film does have going for it is gorgeous computer graphics. The animators have done a beautiful job giving zest to a script that has none. Epic won’t entertain adults and will leave kids wanting more. Children know a quality adventure when they see one and this ain’t it. You cannot foist a subpar saga on them and expect a hit. Not surprisingly, out of 8 productions, this became Blue Sky’s worst performing feature by a wide margin. It didn’t even recoup its $100M production budget in the U.S. Epic is neither majestic nor grand. It’s about as far from the word’s connotation as you can get. The most glaringly mistitled movie since The LAST Exorcism Part II.

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