Movie Review: LIONS FOR LAMBS

Boil It Down:  Three marquee names in a film that wants to be a call to action but is afraid to go the final mile.

The popular consensus is Lions for Lambs, directed by Robert Redford, is an anti-Afghanistan and anti-Iraq War left wing wet dream.  That assumption would be wrong, in the final assessment of the film starring Redford, Meryl Streep and Tom Cruise.  The central question of the story isn't whether either military action is worthy of praise; rather, the question is what do you stand for?  Senator Jasper Irving (Cruise) tries to sell a new military campaign to reporter Janine Roth (Streep) in Washington, DC.  Meanwhile, across the country, Professor Stephen Malley (Redford) tries to motivate a smart but disappointing student (Andrew Garfield) using the story of two former students to illustrate his point.

The key to Lions for Lambs comes in bits and pieces throughout the film, ultimately culminating in speeches by both Malley and Roth.  It's decisions which are important, not necessarily the propaganda or the arguments or the debates.  As Malley tells Todd (Garfield), the decisions he makes at the beginning of his adulthood can take years upon years to correct.  And when the scene switches to Roth making a case not to run with a military strategy story she was given by Irving, the veteran reporter questions the media's role in selling war to the public.  If this television network-run by ratings and not the desire to investigate news-decides not to take a stand, what's the point in doing what they're doing?  These points are all well and good but ultimately fall on deaf ears since it takes so incredibly long to get to them.  Running only 92-minutes, Lions for Lambs doesn't have the time to be coy about what it wants. 

It's not that the script takes detours or meanders along the way.  Quite the opposite, actually.  Each scene is in service of the ultimate objective in one way or another.  As Roth interviews Irving, he makes a case for staying in the region with a different strategy, of course without any verifiable proof for Roth to take back.  In essence, the government made a decision to go to war, forcing the senator to make a further decision on how to execute that war.  There's something...wrong with Cruise's performance in the first couple of scenes.  He smiles swarmily, as if he can't help but snicker at the PR war he is hoping to wage through Roth.  The character is full of hubris, seemingly self-assured his way is the only way forward.  He speechifies, nearly threatening Roth to get on board with the military action because it is the right decision.

Streep's role in this drama is more problematic since she never quite gets a grasp on the story for the totality of the film.  She can recite lines and statistics, look incredulous and pace back and forth with the best of them, but she's never convincing as an investigative reporter.  There's a vacantness in her voice, even at the end, which simply does not ring true.  A singular conversation with one senator is enough to change her entire outlook?  Or was this something brewing inside her?  The movie never clarifies.  Maybe it doesn't need to.  After all, Lions for Lambs is all about decisions.  And Roth knows she has to make a decision by the end (this is another point the film fails to clarify, with the sole exception of a news station ticker crawl).  Redford is much more relaxed than his co-stars, neither of whom he shares a scene with.  He gets the juiciest dialogue and arguably the most emotionally resonant storyline.  To his great credit, the words seem natural coming out of his mouth without a bit of pretense.  He doesn't have a decision to make in the story; that could be the difference.

It's as if Matthew Michael Carnahan's script is afraid to take the final step in actually declaring what decisions all these people are making.  The only characters who get closure are the soldiers, Rodriguez and Finch (Michael Pena and Derek Luke).  In fact, they get to make two different decisions through the course of the film.  There has to be some significance to this fact, considering what Malley tells Todd.  His former students two of the youngest people in the entire movie yet are the only ones truly allowed to take decisive action.  Some obvious writing and editing is at work in the end, with the Malley/Todd talk coming to its pinnacle while Finch and Rodriguez make their final decision, the one that will change the rest of their lives.  Maybe too obvious, in retrospect.  One gets the feeling Carahan and Redford figured they needed to hammer the central idea home in a grand way since the rest of the movie slowly moves through the plot.

Lions for Lambs also wants its character (and the audience) to stand for something.  Know how the script gets that across...besides one character saying it to another?  It literally shows characters standing when they know that's the worst thing they can possibly do under the circumstances.  Noble, in a way, but also incredibly stupid in hindsight.  The entire movie is predicated on characters making informed, smart decisions regardless of whether they're right or wrong.  In other words, stand up and be counted.  But when the script doesn't show these people actually standing up-with a single exception-what's the point?

Lions for Lambs is available on Widescreen DVD, Fullscreen DVD and Blu-ray.

DVD Review: VAMPIRE PARTY

Boil It Down: A French horror comedy full of sly winks to the audience to justify its zany premise.

THE FLICK
Three friends-all film stereotypes in one way or another-finagle themselves invitations to a swanky, secretive party in Vampire Party.  It seems as though the three have heard of the event, but never seen an invite or heard from a guest.  There's a reason for that: the "party" is a way for a slew of vampires to get what they want, namely their life-sustaining blood.  The chief conceit here, though, is that Vampire Party isn't played for the horror or thriller aspects.  Rather, this is a spoof, a parody, a comedy designed to poke fun at the genre.  Take, for instance, the lead male character played by Patrick Mille.  His name is Sam...Sam Polisatokoniminsky.  Surely there's a joke in there somewhere, perhaps even in France, where the film originated.  To see all those letters sprawled out across the bottom of the screen is comical in and of itself.  And when you think about growing up with that name...well, let's just say it's more than amusing.  (No, the rest of the film doesn't require a mental stretch like that for the jokes to work.)

Of the three friends, there's Sam, the party animal; Alice (Frédérique Bel), a blonde, squeaky-voiced aerobics instructor; and Prune (Julie Fournier) the straight-laced responsible one.  Yes, they're all stereotypes...but that's the point here.  A quote from Quiet Earth reinforces that fact on the front cover with a mention of the seminal spoof Airplane.  When the film devolves into sheer lunacy-a sex toy touted as a way to kill the vamps-we're not supposed to take it seriously.  The characters have to because, in their world, their lives are hanging in the balance.  But for us, we see the tongue firmly planted inside the cheek with a knowing nod and wink, allowing everyone to be in on the joke at the same time. 

At the same time, Vampire Party is a straight forward film without many unforeseen twists and turns.  The characters are in a situation they need to get out of.  In that sense, the nearly committee-written script (there's four credited writers) is economical, relaying just enough information to get the audience invested in the situation.  That's exactly why the listed running time is 1:25:11, yet with a solid seven minutes of end credits, the actual film is considerably shorter.  The terrible "killer Tooth Fairy" film Darkness Falls tried to follow this same paradigm with a listed running time of 86-minutes with 11 minutes of end credits.  A key difference between the two films is the content.  Vampire Party largely works since the participants know it is supposed to be over-the-top; Darkness Falls had no notion of being anything but legitimate. 

There is a downside to the short running time and the desire to get through the story quickly.  Vampire Party has an almost whip-lash feeling to it, as if events are happening entirely too fast without space to breathe.  It's called pacing, giving a story the opportunity to come off as natural instead of an artificial construct.  The Book of Pacts, the object of the film, lists the names of every "collaborator" the vampires have in the human world.  Sam and his group get a hold of it, leading the vamps on a chase around the party mansion.  From the way they get their hands on the book to the sheer incompetence of nearly everyone involved, Vampire Party could have used an extra 10 minutes or so of "padding" if only to better simulate the passage of an entire night. 

But that's a quibble with realism, something we know from the beginning will be thrown out the window with the film.  Each of the actors, those playing humans and those playing the blood suckers, completely buy into the premise to such an extent they're quite willing to do anything for the story.  Escapee's continually light matches while hiding, throwing them to the ground when the flame gets too close to their fingers only to light another one.  Alice lies motionless on a gurney under a sheet as a vampire tries to make sure she's actually "dead" by telling her jokes.  People get hit in the head with guns thrown as weapons, incantations transform both Sam and Prune into all manner of personalities and animals...actors don't convincingly go to these places unless they implicitly trust the filmmakers behind the camera.  And this film is directed by two first-time helmers, Stephen Cafiero and Vincent Lobelle, at least according to their IMDb credits.  Perhaps they and the writers don't know any better, opting to throw everything they've ever wanted into a movie to see what works and what doesn't.

What works?  Of course, the humor does, most of the time.  When doesn't it?  Well, when the characters try to use tried and true anti-vamp gimmicks like crosses and garlic to no effect.  With Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a slew of other related works, this tactic simply isn't new or fresh anymore.  Know what would be?  If either of those things actually worked.  (To their credit, one vampire eating an entire clove of garlic causes an allergic reaction, though it seems to be quickly forgotten about.)  The aforementioned actors are also a pleasure since they seem to be in on the joke.  It would be one thing for Vampire Party to be a laughable film everyone took seriously; it's another to be laughable content in the knowledge everyone on set was laughing at it too.  Much like Airplane, Spaceballs or Blazing Saddles, there's really little reason to try to make sense of the plot or what these people do.  There aren't many films which get that big of a pass. 

THE LOOK
Vampire Party is presented in anamorphic widescreen format. The transfer handles a wide array of dark colors rather well; the steel blue look in the basement presents a stark contrast to the looming darks which pervade the rest of the film.  Blacks are reasonably deep with decent enough detail in both the foreground and background.  Day scenes seem a touch too bright when compared to other films, with the brightness threatening to blind the viewer just a bit.  This is a foreign film, remember, resulting in a grittiness throughout the picture designed to be there.  

THE SOUND
I will admit to being more than a little surprised with the French 5.1 audio track (a 2.0 version is also available).  It is unusually aggressive, especially in the bar or party scenes.  The cumulative effect of strong bass coupled with the forceful dancing music is making the audience feel like they're actually in the location.  Later on, dialogue echoes help to reinforce the "hollow" feeling of the basement.  Generally speaking, the soundtrack doesn't overpower the dialogue, though it does happen from time to time.  Some sound effects are directional in nature-like the helicopters which transport the partiers to the mansion-though they won't blow the doors of the proverbial barn.  A set of English subtitles is also included.  They are easy to see against the dark locations, considering the words are presented in bright yellow type.

THE STUFF
Packed in a clear keepcase without insert, the film is broken down in 15 chapters. The only extra is the theatrical trailer.

Vampire Party is available on DVD.

Movie Review: ONCE

Boil It Down: Quietly brilliant and emotional with two outstanding lead performances and songs which instantly resonate with every segment of the audience.

The brilliance of Once is ingrained in its very concept.  Two people finding one another and making music together.  Yes, this is a movie "musical" but not in the traditional sense.  There are no grand musical numbers where everyone involved mysteriously knows every word to every song.  Dance sequences are similarly absent in favor of writer/director John Carney's careful probing of this new relationship.  It's not a sexual one, or even romantic.  Once cares only about the music the two create and the emotions which can be unleashed from that music.  Make no mistake: Once is filled with songs designed not to radio hits but to articulate the things the characters can't say to one another.  "Falling Slowly," the track leads Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won an Oscar for, seems to point to a romantic relationship between the two.  That's not the point of the story; it wants to show a man and a woman being friends, being involved in each other's lives for a specific amount of time and then the inevitable

And that shouldn't be seen as a downer or a depressing finale.  Rather, the entire endeavor is positive for both Guy and Girl (Hansard, Irglova).  Nights that are spent with her mother and daughter to a whirlwind recording session in the third act, the audience is allowed to see their friendship grow over the course o f the 85-minute running time.  It starts innocently enough as she strikes up a conversation with him on the street.  Her job is to sell roses while he sings on street corners and works in his father's vacuum repair shop.  Initially, at least, he's antagonistic to her for putting a pittance into his guitar case.  And that's all it takes for her to become enamored with his music and he with her.  (No, neither of the main characters has a spoken proper name, hence the "him" and "her" references.)

Theirs is a relationship of convenience for both of them, in a sense.  Neither knows what they need even though it is essentially the same thing: Girl needs a wake up call, someone to remind her of who she is in the grand scheme of things while Guy requires a swift kick in the pants.  See, a revelation in the second half of the film will expand the Girl character, revealing a key piece of information Guy and the audience don't have access to.  In a strange land cut off from the things which have defined her, it is easy to forget who you are or where you come from.  Guy turns out to be the reminder of another life even if he doesn't know it.  Each time he tries to make that first romantic bridge to her, something goes off in her head like a mini-explosion.  The audience doesn't get it until the twist is out in the open; at least initially, any number of reasons are possible for the brush off.

As for Guy, there's isn't much in the way of ambition in his world.  Content to sing on the street and work with his father, he's the more passive of the two.  It is Girl who sets his mind onto a definite goal (recording tracks in a professional studio).  She takes control of both a bank loan meeting and the deal for the recording studio.  And she refocuses his mind on an ex, someone he's let go of in some ways.  Perhaps sensing Guy is ready to latch onto her, she constantly reinforces the idea of not letting someone go easily.  She is a proxy of sorts for the ex in the melancholy "If You Want Me;" this track also happens to play over the second most captivating musical scenes in the movie as Irglova walks down a street at night with a CD player.  The most captivating?  "Falling Slowly," filled with an overwhelming sense of magic in the air.  The director allows the two to engage in long, single takes before cutting to a new shot from various vantage points around a piano. 

Carney tells the audience early on both characters need something in their lives, though he leaves it largely for the music to convey.  With music, they are more comfortable sharing with one another, not to mention the world around them.  Take, for instance, "Broken Hearted Hoover Sucker Fixer Guy," which he sings for her on a public bus.  He simply can't work up the gumption to talk about a prior relationship, so he sings about it.  The scene remains realistic to these characters without becoming corny, cliched or laughable.  Through music, the needs and desires of both characters come out in a form which doesn't rely on exposition.  Let's face it: if Once had not been a musical, the sheer amount of exposition in the film would doom the finished product to being unwatchable.  The myriad of music exists solely to take the place of moving the plot forward in the conventional ways. 

There's is a tenderness in the lyrics I alluded to a moment ago.  They are always heart felt and true, a characteristic the movie shares in spades.  When Girl storms out of Guy's room after he asks her to stay the night, the action rings true to her character.  Here is an independent woman, an immigrant to Ireland who almost resents the insinuation she would sleep with someone she basically just met.  (A plot complication down the line also has a bearing on the decision.)  Even the finale, which is not the normal way movies like this end, is truthful to the situation.  Both Hansard and Irglova are relative newcomers to the film world, which works to the Once's advantage.  They project sincerity in each scene, without a drop of pretense or actual "acting."  They're real people, blemishes and all, interacting in their respective world's as would be expected in reality.  A scene late in the film between Guy and his father (Bill Hodnett) turns out to be humorous not because they're cracking jokes, but because of a form of miscommunication between the two.  Guy doesn't want to leave his father alone while Dad basically kicks him out of the house.  Neither of them dwelled on the situation to excess throughout the story.  It happened to be a conversation organic to their relationship.

Organic.  That may be the best word for Once.  Filmed in 17 days, the story refuses to be flashy or anything but what it wants to be.  It is a portrait of a small sliver of their lives, content to drop the audience into the situation and then take us out of it.  The actors certainly have to be conscious of the camera, though they never show they notice.  More than anything else, Once feels as though Carney followed two real people on this journey and cut the footage together afterward.  Some sequences are noticeably shot on hand-held cameras; there is a gentle swaying back and forth which would detract from other productions.  In this one, however, the effect only adds to the sentiment. 

In some films, an in-depth discussion of the plot mechanics...tearing apart the decisions and dialogue and directing and scene sequence...is warranted.  Why?  Because they offer very little which is new to the world of film.  Those films wash over us in a certain kind of way, either through their massive special effects or larger than life characters.  And, to be honest, the population needs them as an escape.  Once also washes over the audience, however in a different way.  Quietly, deliberately and honestly with grounded emotions, realistic characters and a refusal to overstay its welcome.   

Once is available on DVD.

Movie Review: 2012

Boil It Down:  Roland Emmerich hates humanity (again) in a CGI spectacle with a plethora of recognizable talent but relatively little to say about humanity or its argument for survival.

2012 actually starts in 2009 when geologist Adrian Helmsley (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is summoned to India.  It seems as though a solar flare is helping to push neutrons past their normal, benign use up in the sky.  In short, they are turning into microwaves, cooking the inside of the Earth, eventually causing earthquakes, tsunami and global mayhem.  Into this impending mess are an ensemble of characters, ranging from a divorced couple (John Cusack, Amanda Peet), the president (Danny Glover) and his daughter (Thandie Newton) to a conspiracy theorist radio host (Woody Harrelson) and a Russian billionaire (Zlatko Buric).  All have one singular thought on their minds: survival when the world is literally coming apart at the seams.

More than any of writer/director Roland Emmerich's previous disaster films (Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow), 2012 is an ensemble film like the classic The Towering Inferno or The Poseidon Adventure.  The film spends a good 45 minutes right off the top introducing all the main players and their various relationships; more than anything, this is why 2012 lasts a seemingly-obscene 158-minutes.  This allows the remainder of the story to focus on the running and jumping, shouting and chasing from fireballs and explosions and tidal waves and earthquakes and anything else Mother Nature can throw at the planet.  In that respect, the finished product is entertaining, but lacks the "wow" factor that came with the White House exploding in Independence Day, for example.  (An argument can be made that disaster-level special effects are so commonplace today that it will take an awful lot to amaze an audience these days.)

To say 2012 has script-level problems in an understatement.  What can anyone truly expect, though, from the movie?  A grand discussion on the moral implications of a small fraction of the human race surviving?  Ruminations on familial rifts?  The right or wrong way to tell a child the world may very well be coming to an end?  At the end of the day, 2012 feels like a generic disaster film with Mayan calendar doomsday information inlaid at various points.  Aside from a slight nod to history from Harrelson's Charlie Frost (quite possibly the most annoying personality on screen), the Mayan's aren't mentioned at all.  There's lots of talk, relatively speaking, of the crust heating up, alignment of the continents changing and neutrons frying us from the inside out.  The script even skips out on the potentially riveting conversations world leaders have about the impending disaster and how to work toward securing the species.  At one point, President Thomas Wilson (Glover) announces the issue to the G8 and, in the next, a massive plan in underway, including what is called a "dam."  Art work is being removed from museums, people are dying in fireballs...but the press and average citizen has no idea what's going on.  In that sense, Deep Impact is a much better story, opting to show the ELE from all sides.  In the place of all these decisions are a wide swath of "people" scenes, designed to get the audience to care about which characters live and which don't, overlaid with more computer generated destruction than possibly any film in Hollywood history.

Does any of that really matter, in the end?  Not really.  Emmerich populates his movie world with reputable, honest-to-goodness actors all taking pages right out of Disaster Film 101.  Ejiofor,who deserves to be a household name by now, breathlessly butts heads with Oliver Platt's Carl Anheuser, his boss, over what it means to be human time and again.  Cusack maintains a straight face each and every time he's forced to run from a massive ocean wave bearing down on him or put in front of a green screen.  Their names, faces and considerable talent give 2012 legitimacy it might not otherwise have had.  Even with that legitimacy comes gaps in logic or, worse, actions taken to advance the plot rather than from a place of honesty.  There's no way to rationalize the president not evacuating the White House in this kind of emergency, regardless of how much he might protest or want to stay where he is.  This is the president of the United States, the leader of the free world, the man who put this entire international operation together.  And he's going to stay behind because, in his words, the new world will need more young fresh minds (like Helmsley) and less old politicians?  Sorry, excuse me.  Secret Service evidently doesn't know what their job is; however, this decision sets up one of the major conflicts in the third act.  The reasoning is dubious at best, incompetent at worst.   

It is odd, though, to see movies and TV jumping on the proverbial bandwagon in regards to non-white American presidents.  Deep Impact had Morgan Freeman, the series 24 had two black presidents and now 2012.  Okay guys, enough.  While we're on the subject of diversity, the casting director and script should be lauded for not being Caucasian- or American-centric.  Heck, there are people of every age, a multitude of ethnicities and cultural backgrounds, marital statuses, professions and every other category you can imagine. Except one: not a single gay character.  How do we know this?  For starters, almost every character has a romantic interest of some kind, past or present.  Not a one mentions a same sex partner.  In the grand scheme of the movie, this oversight isn't terribly important.  But when the Curtis storyline comes from California and makes a pitstop in Las Vegas, there should be at least one homosexual character.

At a certain point in the third act, the entire endeavor gets a bit...boring.  Maybe that's the wrong word for it.  A more apt one might be overkill or tedious.  After watching the talking heads bounce back and forth about the coming disaster, the various participants moving heaven and earth to reach a certain location and then a power struggle, there's still big, bold action sequences to go.  At some point, enough is enough.  The film could-and probably should-end without the final half hour with all its speechifying (think Bill Pullman's "Today we celebrate our Independence Day!" monologue), CGI and Titanic-ish water-based drama.  Emmerich can't seem to help himself though; to be fair, this portion of the film does complete the story in a conventional way.  The problem is, at this point, the audience has already witnessed so much carnage and destruction, they're almost as drained as the characters.  Remember Murphy's Law?  Where whatever can go wrong will go wrong?  2012 revels in taking it to the Nth degree.  The planet is realigning?  Oh good.  The world's monuments are crumbling, millions upon millions of people dead?  We'll deal.  Our main characters have to solve every single problem almost single handedly?  But of course.  Especially when they're normal, everyday folks forced to become engineers, security officers or pilots.  I guess that's par for the course, average citizens doing the incredible.  Even if it involves outrunning a tidal wave or speeding a limousine through a crumbling city.  Or flying a double engine plane 15 feet off the ground...

Hey, no one said 2012 was based in reality.

DVD REVIEW: FARSCAPE: THE COMPLETE SERIES

Boil It Down:  Disappointing video specs aside, the complete series box set is just as sexy as the show it contains. 

THE FLICK
What is Farscape?  Well, in the universe of the television show, Farscape (actually Farscape One) is a space module which transports astronaut John Crichton (Ben Browder) to a distant galaxy filled with aliens of every shape, size and color.  But in relation to giving a definition to the series, Farscape is an action/adventure, dark comedy, thriller, romance and family drama wrapped in the trappings of science fiction.  It's much more than any of those things, in the end.  Farscape is endlessly inventive, dynamic, fresh, compelling, twisty and unlike anything on TV before or since.  Oh yeah, and it deftly blends live action, CGI and muppets from the Jim Henson studio to create the world of the Uncharted Territories.  (Yes, Henson as in Kermit the Frog...)

At the center of the show, at least initially, is a small group of escaped prisoners, a former Peacekeeper and Crichton on board a living vessel named Moya.  See, Moya-also known as a leviathan-is a prisoner transport ship used by the Peacekeepers-a law enforcement group of sorts made up of human looking people known as Sebaceans.  On board Moya are Ka D'Argo (Anthony Simcoe), a warrior Luxan accused of killing his wife; Pa'u Zotoch Zhaan (Virginia Hey), a blue-skinned Delvian Priestess; the floating Dominar Rygel XVI (Jonathan Hardy provides the voice), a foul-mouthed and arrogant former ruler of the Hynerian Empire; and Pilot (voiced by Lani Tupu, otherwise known as Commander Crais), the being who interfaces with Moya directly.  In the first episode, this motley group is joined by Aeryn Sun (Claudia Black), former Peacekeeper.  And they're on the run from Crais, a Peacekeeper Captain hellbent on getting to Crichton for killing his brother.  Then there's Scorpius (Wayne Pygram), Stark (Paul Goddard), Chiana (Gigi Edgley), Jool (Tammy McIntosh) and a vast array of other characters, all designed to expand the ever-increasing serialized Farscape universe.

Make no mistake: Farscape is as serialized as a series like Lost or Battlestar Galactica.  What does that mean?  Each episode is dependent on everything that has come before.  Whereas a series like Star Trek: The Next Generation were largely self-contained stories that didn't require much knowledge of the characters to enjoy any given episode, Farscape demands a viewer get on board early and not miss a single episode.  The early going of the series contains a fair number of episodic, or unconnected, stories with the ostensible purpose of creating the universe the characters get to play in.  This is both a blessing and a curse for the show.  By connecting the episodes, a large tapestry of personalities, long-term relationships and a sense of reality can be brought to the screen.  But by making the show so completely "insider-y," new audience have an incredibly difficult time jumping in at any given point.  Occasional network specials used to bring audiences up to speed can't possibly cover all the relevant bases without causing utter confusion on the part of the audience.

I called Farscape, among other things, a dark comedy in the open.  Just by looking at the episode titles, the playful attitude of the series is on full display.  "Back and Back and Back to the Future" (a pun on Back to the Future), "That Old Black Magic" (also the title of a Frank Sinatra song), "A Clockwork Nebari" (A Clockwork Orange, obviously), "Scratch 'N Sniff" (just funny), "Lava's a Many Splendored Thing" (Love's a Many Splendored Thing) and others are the tip of the iceberg.  There's also Crichton's continued reference to modern American pop culture.  Listen for the Federation and Buffy, allusions to Mad Max (an Australian production like Farscape), The Little Rascals, The Wizard of Oz and Trek.  The cumulative effect of these name drops is providing an air of levity to the episodes, letting the audience know no matter how bad the situation gets, the lead will always have a sense of humor.  Comedy is also implanted within the show proper.  Rygel, for example, farts helium when he gets nervous.  Sure, it's not high brow humor, but provides countless moments of laughter for this family.  It should also be noted the writers make full use of the language difference between the characters, as in when Aeryn says "She gives me a woody."  Of course, she means "willies," but that's not the point.  The way Black delivers the line in a straight, serious monotone only adds to the comedic elements.  (Entire episodes placing the characters in oddball situations-such as the blue-skinned Chiana in a bikini on Earth-milk the concept for all its worth and don't feel out of place precisely because of the humor inherent in the series.)

I also mentioned this is a family drama.  Throughout the series, the core characters, plus more, need to learn how to get along together when their personalities may not be the most conducive to working together.  In effect, they are a family of outcasts.  And like a family, as the series progresses, they end up betraying one another in various ways, though it's hard to ever see them splitting apart.  A strong strain of respect develops between D'Argo and Crichton through the first season, resulting in extremely heartfelt moments displaying the path their relationship takes.  There's obvious sexual tension between Aeryn and Crichton from the get go, yet the writers take their time putting the two together romantically.  Why?  Because Farscape allows its various storylines to mature slowly, to unravel organically without really being pressured.  Recurring characters join the main crew and leave, just as people enter and exit lives in real life.  That's the great success of the show: for all its science fiction plot elements, wars and chases, it is all about the people behind those things.  When the people work together (as in the extraordinary second season trilogy "Liars, Guns and Money"), Farscape is at its best.

Something must be said about The Jim Henson Company's puppets.  Both Rygel and Pilot are main characters on the show, though the company contributes a great many other characters to the production, all of which interact fully with the live action actors nearly seamlessly.  In one of the bonus features, Executive Producer David Kemper (a writer for various Trek shows) mentions how this program is different from anything else on TV.  On Trek, he says, the aliens all have bumpy foreheads and funny noses, but two eyes, a nose, mouth, two arms and two legs.  In other words, rather mundane.  On Farscape, a blue vampire-like creature can tower over the actors on the set in one episode, giving the universe a unique and unknown look as anything on a Trek series.

Farscape has a couple over-arcing storylines, nearly all of which are too complex and involved to completely get into.  Some deal with science fiction premises while others are purely driven by emotions like revenge.  What each and every one does, though, is give the series a specific storyline to follow.  Sure, the characters make side trips which don't involve Crais or the evil Scorpius, wormholes or Scarrans.  There's a road map from the pilot episode for the scripts to follow, a natural "end point," if you will, for the Crais/Crichton dynamic.  Just as that arc seems to reach an endpoint, something more sinister evolves.  The second season tends to fall off a bit from the high the first leaves off on, at least in the first handful of episodes.  It's almost as if the production was awe-struck by their success and ran off the track just a little bit.  However, even "bad" Farscape is better than most televised science fiction, especially back when it was in first run.  (A TV critic makes that point, again in the bonus features.  He calls Enterprise "lumbering" while heaping praise on this series.  Also, while the sexuality in Enterprise feels forced and cheap, in Farscape it is organic to the characters and story.)

With a program like this, the journey is much more important than the eventual outcome.  On that note, a word of warning.  Farscape ends with a cliffhanger.  Not a "We are the Borg"-type cliffhanger, but one that almost literally blows the entire universe apart.  The words "To Be Continued" even flash on the screen.  Be advised there is a follow-up miniseries/television movie titled The Peacekeeper Wars not included with this set.  Aired over the course of two nights on Sci Fi, it wraps up all the plot lines and characters in satisfying ways.  To say anything more about any part of the series would be spoiling all the twists and turns which makes Farscape sexy, smart, engaging, entertaining...everything modern science fiction should be.

THE LOOK
I guess we'll start with the good news.  As the series progresses, the video tends to look better for whatever reason.  An increased budget, different cameras, better post-production...that is, until we hit Season 4.  Ironically, the final season is the 16:9 year (the rest of the series is 1.33:1).  But let's start at the beginning.  My guess is the episodes have not been remastered from the last time they were on DVD-the Starburst Edition sets from ADV Films.  Seasons One and Four present a whole host of problems from pixelation to haze, ghosting and halo effects, blocking and...  Oh, alright.  I'll say it.  The bookends to the series look pretty miserable, all things considered.  Deleted scenes for the fourth season look much better than the actual episodes, strangely. (A minor note on the Season Four anamorphic widescreen ratio: roughly 1/4-inch on the left and right sides of the screen contain no information.  In fact, they're black bars on a 46-inch television, almost looking as though there's not enough picture to extend to both ends of the screen.)

Season Two is a step up, with the image becoming a bit sharper, black crush (or blocking) starting to recede and colors popping just a bit more.  Season Three tends to be the best season for a whole host of reasons (skip down to the Bonus Features discussion), but in terms of the look, the series gets "adultified" here, with the same color palette subdued just a bit.  There's still some problems with all the aforementioned areas, but this is easily the best the series looks in this set. 

THE SOUND
Included on every episode are both English 5.1 and 2.0 soundtracks.  Unlike the video portion, there isn't anything to criticize on either of them.  Dialogue is clear, even with all the Australian accented actors, while sound effects and the score are neatly separated from the spoken word.  Distortion is not a problem in any octave; really, the 5.1 version handles bass extraordinarily well, booming just enough to give the impression the Command Carrier is actually firing into the viewing area.  Directional effects are solid, as is the auditory information sent to the rear speakers.  DRD's, weapons fire or a subtle breeze are picked up quite easily, creating a rich environment.  English subtitles are available. 

THE STUFF
The Complete Series set includes all four seasons (six discs apiece, also available separately) and the two-disc "The Archives."  All come packed in black, regular-sized keepcases.  The box for the series version should be opened with the utmost of care: it is quite literally a regular box.  There are "flaps" on both sides; only one side needs to be undone to open the box.  Only the first season set has an insert: a promo for Farscape statues and collectibles and a fold-out comic book advertisement.  From the main menu of each season disc are options for individual episodes, a Play All option, Bonus Features and Set Up.  Clicking on an episode title will bring up a selection of six chapter stops.

Extras are sprinkled on all the discs, with one disc per season set being the repository for anything spanning the entire season.  Going forward, discs will be named by their season and disc number.  For instance, Season 3, Disc 4 will be labeled Disc 3.4.  Running times for all the video-based features are also included, for the following reason.  As far as I can tell, almost everything on the previous releases of the series have been ported over with very little new material being added here.  Trailers, listed on the original releases, are missing (outside of Season 3); image galleries are likewise missing.  Actor and actress profiles may have been repurposed and renamed into interview segments for this set.

The box claims a total of 31 audio commentaries across all four seasons, though I only counted 30 (the difference being Season Three; I count 8 on the season while the packaging says 9).  Everyone from Browder, Black, Simcoe, creator Rockne S. O'Bannon and Kemper participate, along with a host of other personalities.  Rich with behind-the-scenes information and genuine warmth between the participants, they tend to be substantive, not to mention truthful, than many tracks of their ilk.  To point two out: Disc 1.4 contains a commentary on "Jeremiah Crichton" otherwise called "When Bad Things Happen to Good Shows."  It details everything which befell the episode, making it a must listen...but only after working through the entire series.  The other track to highlight is on 4.6, on the finale named "Bad Timing."  There's a melancholy feeling to the entire endeavor which is hard to shake even after knowing exactly what happens in the episode.

Disc 1.6 contains a plurality of the Season One bonuses in the form of "Making of a Space Opera" (22:25) and "In the Beginning: A Look Back with Brian Henson" (38:09).  The former is a generic promo featurette designed to bring new viewers to the series while the latter is much more in-depth.  Both of these have been available before, though I hesitate to mention too much about them for fear of spoilers.  If time allows for only one, make it In the Beginning.  Henson is, much like the cast and crew, open and articulate about the show, detailing just about anything a viewer might want to know from behind the camera.  Also on this disc is "Farscape: In the Raw Director's Cut Scenes" for "Flax" (18:54) and "Through the Looking Glass" (23:05).  They're the first of a great many deleted and extended scenes in the set.

Deleted scenes are abound on Season Two, with excised footage for eight different episodes on their respective discs.  (For the record, the episodes are: "Mind the Baby"-3:18; "Taking the Stone"-0:36; "Crackers Don't Matter"-0:45; "Dream a Little Dream"-3:58; "Look at the Princess Part I"-1:39; "Look at the Princess Part II"-1:29; "The Locket"-0:56; and "Liars, Guns and Money Part II"-1:33.)  Of more consequence on 2.3 is the original version of the second season premiere "Re: Union," a set of bloopers (6:37) and eight more "Farscape: In the Raw" segments ("Re: Union"-9:01; "Mind the Baby"-7:41; "Vitas Mortis"-10:22; "Taking the Stone"-7:28; "Crackers Don't Matter"-6:59; "Picture If You Will"-16:56; "The Way We Weren't"-28:36; and "Home on the Remains"-13:14).

Season Three sees the deleted scenes for another 10 episodes: "Season of Death"-2:24; "Thanks for Sharing"-0:26; "Losing Time"-2:51; "Incubator"-1:18; "Scratch 'N Sniff"-1:50; "Revenging Angel"-0:34; "The Choice"-0:50; "Fractures"-4:16; "Into the Lion's Dean Part I"-1:18; "Into the Lion's Den Part II"-7:08; and "Dog with Two Bones"-7:10.  This season also adds Sci Fi Channel trailers for every episode, also on the same disc as their episodes.  They range in length from 0:16 to 0:32 and are presented in windowbox format.  3.5 also has "Season Three: A Look Back with Executive Producer David Kemper" (44:36), another promo featurette.  "From the Archives" (4:37) features composer Guy Gross talking about the revamped third season theme.  And a collection of interviews round out the disc.  Black (35:27), Simcoe (27:11), Browder (5:23), Pygram (24:19) and Edgley (17:54) all contribute to talking about the show and their characters.

For the last season, it's quite evident whoever originally created this content gave up on doing anything revolutionary, or keeping in line with what came before.  Gone are the promo spots and a bulk of the commentaries; 13 episode's get deleted material ("Crichton Kicks"-3:10; "What Was Lost Part I"-1:58; "Promises"-3:03; "Natural Election"-2:15; "A Perfect Murder"-2:18; "Kansas"-2:27; "Terra Firma"-4:27; "Twice Shy"-1:54; "Mental as Anything"-0:26; "Bringing Home the Beacon"-0:53; "A Constellation of Doubt"-18:06; "We're So Screwed Part II"-1:18; and "Bad Timing"-2:47).  4.5 includes "Farscape: The Story So Far" (26:31), another promo piece designed to bring viewers up to date.  "From the Archives: On the Last Day" (3:36) features Executive Producer Kemper addressing the cast and crew on the final day of shooting.  He reads a write-up by TV Guide critic Matt Roush which very nearly brings the entire company to tears.  (Roush makes several good points, to be sure, and is incredibly flattering to the production.)  Three additional featurettes fall under the "Inside Farscape" banner.  The first runs 30:43, detailing the Save Farscape campaign.  The other two, Villains (15:08) and Season 4 Visual Effects (9:35), delve into, obviously, the bad guys and effects of the series.

Oh, but there's two discs left.  "The Archives" Disc One sports "Farscape Undressed" (44:01), a promo featurette aired in March, 2001, which has never been available on legitimate home video before.  Guy Gross is back with a dozen "Listening In" segments; he talks about the music for each in broad terms, giving snippets of information on the way the score is composed for each episode.  For the record, there's "The Way We Weren't" (9:19), "My Three Crichtons" (11:27), "The Locket" (9:49), "Die Me, Dichotomy" (10:48); "Eat Me" (10:32), "Revenging Angel" (8:19), "The Choice" (11:13), "Into the Lion's Den Part II" (8:59), "Crichton Kicks" (7:07), "John Quixote" (8:05), "Terra Firma" (9:22) and "Bad Timing" (9:11).

Disc Two kicks off with an additional six behind-the-scenes interviews featuring Simcoe (29:17), Pygra (22:06), Jonathan Hardy (20:44), Rebecca Riggs (29:14), Lani  John Tupu (23:34), David Franklin (16:55) and Paul Goddard (4:21).  To be honest, by this point, there isn't much information left to talk about, but all the actors are game to try.  Video profiles on both Kemper (12:06) and O'Bannon (19:36) talk about how the show came into being and some of their previous projects, among other topics.  The final extra spends a half hour with Hey ("Zhaan Forever"), who is largely absent from the rest of the features.  She's passionate about the character of Zhaan and is quite candid about her regrets over the way she left the show.

Based on information from the website Farscape World, the first season is in its proper production order (though the United Kingdom and United States air order vary); Season Two follows the US air dates; and the last two year's are perfectly synched up between the production order and UK/US airings.

Farscape is available on DVD: Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4 and the Complete Series.

Movie Review: THE NUMBER 23

Boil It Down: Jim Carrey gives three engrossingly nuanced performances to help audiences weather dim-witted supporting players in a quasi-thriller/mystery/noir.

Sometimes casting makes all the difference in the world to a movie. A sub-par or disinterested lead actor can sink a mediocre script while a committed lead can elevate that same script into something a cut above.  Such is the case with The Number 23 and it's star performer Jim Carrey.  Here, under the direction of Joel Schumacher (Batman Forever), Carrey plays three different kinds of roles: even-keeled father Walter Sparrow; a hyper-real, fictionalized character; and a man obsessed with instances of a single number.  Writer Fernley Phillips provides a problematic script, tossing and turning between personalities and realities without a clear meaning until the end, at which point the audience may not care anymore.  But it's Carrey who carries the film, making the audience care about his character and the obsession.

After his wife Agatha (a disturbingly mundane Virginia Madsen) gives him a book to read which shares its title with that of the movie, animal control officer Walter becomes obsessed with the preponderance of the number 23 throughout history, as well as his own life.  The September 11 attacks add up to 23 (9+11+2+0+0+1), as do the numbers in his Social Security Number.  He was born in February 3 (23), Caesar was stabbed 23 times...and so on.  The author of the book also has similar life experiences to Walter, including a neighbor with a dog and a string of murder/suicides in the family.  Walter's obsession eventually ensnares both Agatha and their son Robin (Logan Lerman), uncovering secrets no one thought existed.

The Number 23 is one of those films where, if certain characters have a modicum of intelligence, the entire narrative completely collapses in on itself.  Therefore, the script relies almost completely on contrivance and coincidence to set the whole thing in motion.  On one particular night, Walter has to be late picking up Agatha.  She, in turn, has to have time to go into a bookstore and find a red, ratty manuscript sitting on the shelf.  Walter has to be so late to allow Agatha to flip through it, finally deciding to buy the thing.  Having time off due to an injury,Walter has to read "The Number 23" and find something to latch onto.  He has to be well-versed in history, or at least proficient with Google and the internet.  Both Agatha have to allow this to continue without a whole lot of argument...  See where this is going?  If just one piece of this elaborate puzzle is out of place, the entire narrative ceases to work in any meaningful way.  So it's under that guise this movie takes place.  Here's a word of caution: the story won't make a ton of sense until a revelation in the third act is introduced, so don't try to figure it out beforehand.

That's either the brilliance of the script or its great failing.  I haven't decided which yet.  By not putting all its cards on the table early on, The Number 23 keeps the audience guessing, interested in where the story is going and how it will all be explained.  On the other hand, it can be maddeningly deceptive, refusing to provide clues about how the story will turn out, thereby turning the audience off completely from investing in it.  Schumacher is able to keep interest by shrouding the film-both the real world storyline and that of Detective Fingerling in the novel-in darkness and blown out colors when appropriate.  Red is an important color in each plot, yet it also remains one of the only vibrant hues on the screen.  It necessarily catches our attention on the vast backdrop of gray, green and brown.  When the film switches to showing the story Walter is reading, the director changes the style into something along the lines of Sin City or The Spirit, hyper-stylized with deep contrasts and a blown out look.

Which brings us to Carrey.  Being the centerpiece of The Number 23, he has to credibly morph from one character to another while playing a third in a dream-like state.  He does so with aplomb, letting small pieces of the obsessed man come through while keeping tight hold of his sanity.  Walter doesn't get consumed with the number simply because it's a cool little side project.  No, the script continually reminds us he is obsessed because of all the similarities he shares with Fingerling.  That's his driving force since the detective himself is obsessed with the same thing.  With the Fingerling character, Carrey is a different kind of man, a scary, haunting, noir-ish figure most likely unlike anyone he's played before or since.  It's almost as if the direction was to remind the audience this is Jim Carrey through the Sparrow character and flip expectations on their head with Fingerling.  A night and day difference between the performances bridges all three "characters" he tackles.  (Madsen, as already noted, doesn't leave any sort of impression as either Agatha or Fingerling's fling Fabrizia.  There's a sense she doesn't completely buy into the story or understand it, simply regurgitating lines she's memorized.  Even her role in the climax can't stand up to Carrey's wildly manic Walter.)

There are two distinct movies within The Number 23.  The first is all about Walter's descent into madness, intriguing enough on its own.  Interspersing the Fingerling story with that of plain old Walter keeps the action moving while providing a counterpoint to each character.  (There's a bit of misdirection involved here which can only be discussed after watching the film.)  Then there's the second part, a mystery/thriller/noir wannabe that doesn't work as well as it should because it hinges on coincidence.  To say much more would be to spoil the "a ha!" moment.  Let's leave it at this: the finale kinda sorta makes sense, as long as rational thinking people don't delve into it too deeply.  Again, it all depends on characters in the story not asking the questions they should, not doing their homework and being far too easily manipulated for the sake of the story.  The first half-particularly everything outlined above-could be glossed over and accepted as "movie reality."  There's simply no excuse for Agatha being as bone-headed as she turns out to be in the end.

Want to know how jarring the eventual resolution turns out to be?  The film feels the need to include a montage over the explanation, detailing all the clues the audience has likely missed, just like an episode of Murder, She Wrote.  And a coda is appallingly out of place; sure, it provides some closure on the story.  But did we really need that closure?

The Number 23 is available on DVD and Blu-ray.

Blu-ray Review: MOONSHOT

Boil It Down: A standard movie of the week which does nothing to shed new light on the historic Apollo 11 space mission.

THE FLICK
Moonshot is a movie of the week for History (formerly The History Channel), though it may be more correctly called a docudrama, combining archival footage of the Apollo 11 spaceflight with a scripted dramatic storyline based on true events.  Here, man's first steps on the Moon are chronicled with Buffy the Vampire Slayer alum James Marsters playing Buzz Aldrin, Daniel Lapaine (Last Chane Harvey) as Neil Armstrong and Andrew Lincoln (TV's Wuthering Heights) as Michael Collins, the flight crew for the historic 1969 space flight.  While the cast and crew do the best with the material, Moonshot is much too similar to Apollo 13 for the audience to gain any meaningful understanding about this mission.  The aspects of the flight it should be interested in exploring for the History audience-why a door won't open on the lunar module, for instance-are glossed over in an effort to make the production appeal to a wider audience base.

Using either the terms "movie of the week" or "docudrama" is not meant to disparage Moonshot.  Rather, it's meant to be a descriptor.  And by using those terms, it speaks very quickly to what a viewer might find on the disc.  The first half deals almost exclusively with the various personalities at work and the way they bump heads trying to get the mission off the ground.  At roughly the half-way mark, Apollo 11 gets launched into space, resulting in a seemingly endless array of shots of the three men looking outside the various windows at the expanse of space.  Interestingly enough, the human story-the one which includes wives, children and everyone back on Earth-is nearly lost in favor of the mission.  That's where Moonshot tends to fall in on itself, relying on three men to carry the drama without a whole lot of support.  What made the latter portions of Apollo 13 and Deep Impact (both astronaut films) work as well as they did was the constant cutting back and forth between the shuttle and the ground, giving perspective on the mission from all possible sides.

This production does, to its credit, cut to stock footage from the real Mission Control with voiceovers of audio captured in the room.  Controllers checking off a various instruments or providing instruction to the crew helps lend an air of authenticity to Moonshot; we're just never given recreated reactions to the spacewalk from the ground.  Why is that important?  Well, for one thing, it feels more than a little cheap, as if History couldn't afford the actors and sets to provide a secondary storyline for the film.  It's entirely possible the money was there and the filmmakers simply wanted to incorporate as much real footage as they could into the finished product.  This is undoubtedly a calculated move to boost Moonshot's authenticity.  The unintended effect, though, is a narrative storyline dependent on three people.

Marsters, Lapiane and Lincoln present no problems holding down the fort, so to speak.  They're not given much to do besides spouting lines about doing what's best for the mission or other platitudes, but they aren't so jarringly out of place as to destroy the film either.  Each is low-key, determined not to ruffle any feathers or stray too far from the historical portraits of the men they portray.  The result is a lot of people talking about a lot of concepts, none of which they seem terribly enthusiastic about.  All Aldrin can keep repeating is he only cares about what's best for the mission, when asked about a potential controversy surrounding who will be the first man to step foot on the Moon.  There's no emotion there, even when he calls his father with his assignment news.  Surely knowing you're going into space (even for a second time) and participating in a historic moment generates some sort of excitement.  It's hard to buy, even for a minute, that the real-world participants didn't hoot and holler, jump up and down and experience wild euphoria.  If they did, Moonshot doesn't portray it.  I can't help but feel the "drama" part of docudrama was purposely filtered down to make Aldrin, Armstrong and Collins more heroic.  The real Aldrin bookends the feature, saying some of the events are shown exactly as they happened while others have been made up.  Yeah, we can tell.

There's no punch, so to speak, in Moonshot, nothing the narrative actually builds to, no payoff for the character or the audience.  We know this story so very well by now, the movie has to bring something new to the table.  Whether it's a bombastic score, some new revelation about the mission or out of this world special effects (no pun intended), the audience has to be given a reason to watch.  When the shuttle blasts off, there isn't a sense of accomplishment.  As Neil Armstrong touches down on the lunar surface, it's as if director Richard Dale is just documenting the event rather than recreating it.  This is the pinnacle of the mission, what a great number of people have worked towards for a very long time.  A historic moment.  Moonshot handles it as if Armstrong was going down the street to get a gallon of milk.  Perhaps the idea is to not sensationalize history and just recreate it; Moonshot isn't helped by the the decision, resulting in a dull hour and a half.

(Which isn't to say the film needed more explosions, nudity or cursing.  What it needed was for the truly monumental portions to be treated as such.)

Tony Basgallop's script runs headlong through everything the History audience could possibly be interested in such as technical discussions and all the previous missions.  Moonshot distills husband/wife relationships, family dynamics, NASA history and space flight factoids down as much as it can by introducing them for only brief sequences.  The men are distilled down to one defining characteristic: emotional, even-keeled, technical.  They're not given any real personalities to speak of because, perhaps, there was a feeling the audience wouldn't care.  Relationships with wives are boiled down to fears over who will come back alive.  And the children have no role to play, outside of a couple stunningly boneheaded adult conversations they happen to catch.

I have to wonder what point Dale and Basgallop were trying to make with Moonshot.  It can't be considered true historical record since portions are fictional or exaggerated.  They're clearly not intending to get remembrances or interviews from the three astronauts; the real Aldrin is on screen for a maximum of 90 seconds.  The filmmakers don't want to wow the audience with new information or previously unknown insight.  So why make this particular film?  Could it be the prototype of a new kind of programming for History, one that skirts the line between documentary and fiction to broaden the History brand?  If so, this wasn't the best effort for a new line of programs.

THE LOOK
By all rights, Moonshot should look absolutely spectacular.  The film was made in 2008 and has been released in high definition.  Therefore, lines should be crisp and colors rich and vibrant with no trace of any problem on the screen.  That's not the case here, with an overall mediocre presentation on Blu-ray.  From the word go, there's a softness in the image, a brightness in every scene which seems to dilute background details.  Blacks-such as shots of the night sky-are lacking in any true depth,opting instead to seemingly showcase every single pixel in that part of the screen.  Quite literally, uniform rows can be seen running down the screen, as if someone overlaid an Excel spreadsheet over the picture.  Daytime, or bright scenes, are marginally better than night ones, even with the faded colors.

Moonshot gets exponentially better-but still not wonderful-when Apollo 11 gets into space.  The CGI shots, along with the interstitial year labels, showcase what the rest of the film should look like, with dark, deep blacks, defined shapes and all the promise of high def.  This is, of course, excluding, the stock footage of Walter Cronkite, the original lunar module landing, Mission Control and a host of other people and locations.  That looks necessarily grainy, worn and beat up.  

THE SOUND
The sound quality on Moonshot is just as underwhelming as the video specs.  Presented in either a standard English 5.1 mix or an uncompressed PCM 2.0 mix, this is a real missed opportunity.  I'd fully expect the dialogue to be clear with distinct separation between it, the sound effects and the score.  That expectation, at least is met.  What is lacking is the authoritative, aggressive track this type of film should support.  Not Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen-type acoustics, but something besides a mundane movie of the week feeling.  As the shuttle blasts off into space, it doesn't go up with a bang.  It's a whimper.  Certainly, this is a problem with the production and not necessarily with either audio option.  However, it reflects badly on those options when the audience isn't jarred out of their seats by booster rockets firing.  (Not to mention the high def format, advertised as being the best of the best.)

The soundtrack is never given the chance to do anything of importance.  Think of the bombast in Jerry Goldsmith's score for Star Trek: The Motion Picture when the Enterprise is unveiled.  Moonshot tells the story of man's first steps on the Moon.  Shouldn't the accompanying audio mix be worthy of the Enterprise?  English subtitles are included.

THE STUFF
The Blu-ray version of Moonshot comes in a generic BD case sans insert.  A slipcover replicating the cover art is also included.  Three different photo galleries-one each for the Apollo (7:56), Gemini (7:18) and Mercury (6:02) missions-is the first bonus feature on the disc.  While a look at the real life Mission Control and other behind-the-scenes locales may be fascinating for space enthusiasts, the galleries run a bit too long for the average viewer, not to mention captions are not included to explain any of the shots.

More compelling are five tracks from the soundtrack played against the backdrop of the Moon and outer space.  Available in both a Play All and individual options are: Pre-Launch (1:24), Launch (1:36), Space Flight (1:51), One Small Step (4:49) and Reunited (1:28).  All are presented in a standard 2.0 mix.  Last up are text-based biographies of six astronauts.  The film is broken down into 10 chapters.

Moonshot is available on DVD and Blu-ray.