This is one of those movies that I’ll forever associate with the “missed opportunity” category. The premise is interesting – people stop aging at 25, but time has replaced money as currency – meaning the rich live as long as they want, and the poor live day to day, but usually even less.

We meet Will, Justin Timberlake’s character, right away. He’s your everyday hero with a modest living – he works in a factory, he is paid daily and lives daily along with his mother, played by Olivia Wilde. She obviously looks younger than her character really is, and therein lies the biggest problem with the first act – it’s hard to emotionally relate to a situation or human bond on screen when we’re so used to our own normal aging appearances.

But if you are willing to accept that conceit, some predictable plot points, and really the overall premise itself – you may find yourself enjoying the first act for what it is: set up, the beginning of an entertaining story. By no means a film, but definitely an interesting movie.

But then the rest of the movie happens.

Yes, it is that tragic. A plot point designed to give Will motivation only manages to do so for about thirty seconds or more, if even that. It gets a little fuzzy as he’s in the midst of making his move – which ends up never really being a very concrete move, more just a few things that happen for no reason other than Will seems to be as curious as we are about what the rich neighborhood is like.

Then Amanda Seyfried comes into the film. I’m about to get into a lot regarding this movie, but before I do let me say that Justin Timberlake is a phenomenal actor even when he has little to no material to work with. The other supporting actors do okay with what they have. Amanda Seyfried, on the other hand, is either a complete lack of performance or a complete lack of direction. It’s a really backwards credit to the film that it’s not entirely clear which is the case.

Her hair is stupid.

Once the film is set up, Will receives a huge amount of time from a rich guy tired of living and is able to travel to the rich district. It looks like it’s a certain section of North America, and takes what seems like all day to get there – but later he and Sylvia (Seyfried) travel back to the “ghetto” in what seems like minutes. The constant back and forth between districts in different amounts of time gets worse and more confusing the longer the movie goes on.

He says something about going there initially to make them pay, to take everything from them. At that point I was expecting a really badass thriller of a movie to follow, but instead, the main character sort of goes from scene to scene without any clear sense of direction. He’s still living day to day, but now it’s in the rich city. Then the cops get involved and he makes some very questionable quick decisions – and if you weren’t thrown off by the lack of a coherent narrative, you’d be irritated that he seems to suddenly develop the martial arts skills of a badass whenever he’s in a tricky situation.

It gets worse. He takes Sylvia hostage (sort of?) and heads back to the ghetto. She saves him from the cops at one point (by shooting the main one!) and decides she likes the rebellious lifestyle. Some scenes follow that aren’t totally clear in their intention – are they supposed to be romantic? Comedic? I found myself (and my wife and the rest of the audience) laughing when we probably weren’t supposed to, and silent when it seemed we were supposed to be laughing. I thought this was a thriller, so what the f is up with the second act?

Justin Timberlake searching desperately for a rewritten screenplay.

There are scenes interspersed throughout lacking much skill as far as filmmaking goes – one involves the wounded cop from earlier walking down a random street to meet his subordinate and drive away. The street is lined by higher level areas that happen to be full of angry citizens, harassing and chiding the cop on his walk of shame. Let’s break this down: the purpose of the scene is to show that the general populace doesn’t care for the cops, and to allow the subordinate to witness that his boss was given some time (which in fact saved his life) by their prey (our “hero”). Unfortunately, the first thing doesn’t really matter, and the second could just as easily have been accomplished in another scene. To top it off, the scene is much longer than it needs to be, awkwardly so, and they use a wide shot more than once – which shows us that the extras are huddled around the center of the screen, but the rest of the place is completely empty. Dead. Which makes it look to the audience like the filmmakers thought to themselves “crap, we need to do this scene!” so they got their friends together in some spot downtown and filmed the guy walking through a crowd of randoms.

There’s quite a bit of that bad direction going on, with many scenes feeling either purposeless or stuffed in the middle of real story/plot. Which for this movie, isn’t saying much. The climax takes place on an empty country road, and calls back to the plot point from the first act. Which might be cool except for how completely underwhelming the climax is as a whole, and man, that setting didn’t do it any favors. It’s all very confusing, as Andrew Niccol handles the first act of his story pretty well, and he’s proven himself a talented director on movies like Gattaca and Lord of War in the past. Who knows what factors played a role in the shaping of the movie, but either way it’s below his proven quality and talent.

I have to say, I’m betting the climax read really well at the script level – callbacks to earlier story points, the guy and the girl succeed in their mission (though the success takes place far away from them? So incoherent as an ending). But on screen? It’s boring story-wise, it’s boring visually, and it’s kind of hard to understand on more than one level.

Throughout the second and third act I kept thinking “this could be the perfect movie for the Occupy movement!” It’s all about going against the powerful 1% that controls the majority of wealth, the world in which we live, and almost every aspect of our lives – except our free will, our drive to fight back for justice. It could have been perfect! But the story was so poorly executed in the second and third act that it’s too fuzzy and incoherent to really apply to any real movement or attitude. I really think that if this film was done right, it could speak to a huge portion of the population right now, representing their anxieties, fears, and hopes in an interesting and thrilling sci-fi metaphor of a story.

Unfortunately, In Time misses the mark.

I saw this story about Universal doing a reboot of their Wolf Man reboot, and it got me thinking. Now I know the story may not be true at all, or it may get some or all the facts completely wrong about the project, but I was thinking about the ways in which The Wolfman was a misfire and came to the conclusion that the script just didn’t know what it wanted to be.

It begins like the 1941 original, with Lawrence Talbot coming home after his brother’s death. The circumstances are more grisly, and Lawrence is brooding and dark as opposed to the cheery and bright introduction of Lon Chaney Jr.’s version. We learn he’s got some family issues that are bugging him, and then he gets bitten. So he’s cursed, and it’s unfortunate because now he’s going on murderous beastly rampages at night. He’s caught the morning after his first transformation, covered in blood and gore, and taken to an asylum.

And that’s when the movie takes the big turn.

From that point on it becomes less of a “what would you do if you had an uncontrollable beast within you?” and more of a “what if your daddy was a big monster who ruined your life, and then you were a monster too? And coincidentally enough, he’s the one who bit you and made you a monster!?” Which would be a cool movie, but that’s not how the thing started. That’s not what we thought we were going to see. That’s not just a twist, that’s a hugely dramatic turn in the story’s emotional direction.

So a reboot? I think that’s a great idea, definitely. It’s always interesting to see another interpretation of a story. Sometimes it can feel unnecessary until we see it, but if it’s underwhelming then it’s more power to the earlier presentation. So yes, I can get behind another reboot of The Wolf Man.

Rick Baker better be involved again.

But only if we do it right this time – decide the tone, and stick with it. Is it tragic? Is it character-driven? Is it a family melodrama with a bit of monster thrown in?

If his story is tragic, then make sure it stays that way. As the conflict rises, it can’t shift focus to daddy issues. Keep it on the character and his struggle with the inner beast. The werewolf is a metaphor for the beast inside all of us – the tragedy comes from the idea of a normal person who once a month becomes a bloodthirsty monster, and there seems to be nothing he or she can do to stop it.

Someone likeable, relatable, like us. Sure, if they’re “normal” then they’ve had their share of issues. But a person who has balanced out all their personal struggles in life and maintains a relatively happy and satisfied existence, suddenly cursed with a horrifying and completely uncontrollable transformation at a certain time each month? No control, no unresolved personal demons suddenly manifested in actions? Just pure monster? That’s tragedy.

The remake turned the main character into somebody who really just kind of had it coming. Yeah, he maybe wouldn’t have been bitten by a werewolf if he hadn’t gone home, but he clearly had seriously unresolved issues with his past and his family that were influencing his way of life and his acting.

I’m not saying you can’t explore the issues of controlling it once you’ve transformed – but it needs to fit the use of the curse, the character, and the story. I’ve written something with a decidedly twisted take on the werewolf curse, and I do allow the character to explore directing or controlling the transformation by the end. The difference is the purpose of the metaphor – what a werewolf symbolizes in the story I’m trying to tell is different than what we thought we were seeing through half of The Wolfman. It’s still a curse, to be sure, but it’s also exploring a theme where it makes sense to involve the mindset of the normal state of the character in the events that unfold and the climax. You can couple the normal with the beast because the core of the idea is that they are two sides to a coin – the key is balance.

I keep saying tragedy, but it’s really the heart of The Wolf Man and the most humanistic approach to the subject matter at hand. It’s tragic that a person would struggle to find a way to rid themselves of the curse, trying desperately to right their life and to protect the lives of those around them – it weighs heavily on them, consumes their every thought and moment, it becomes their only purpose in continuing to live – to be cured – and the delicious irony that fills in that tragedy is the simple fact that when we are troubled, when we hit a rough patch, when it’s clear something is wrong, all the people we deeply care about actually move closer to us in attempts to help, thereby putting them in the most danger and heightening the conflict (both external and internal) for the story and our characters.

This may all be nonsense – The Wolfman may have worked for a lot of people as a film. And if that’s the case for you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I did too, even given my criticisms.

As a fan of the werewolf myth, and of movies, I for one hope that anyone involved in this reboot is taking it seriously. Genre movies can be more than just fun popcorn flicks, they can be intense looks at key aspects of the human condition. The more thought we put into the stories we tell, the more thought is inspired on the other side of the screen.

The third of the great horror icons produced by Universal Pictures, The Wolf Man follows Lon Chaney, Jr. as Larry Talbot back to his ancestral home to reconnect with his father Sir Talbot, played by Claude Rains.

After arriving in town, Larry takes a liking to a local girl (Gwen) and ends up taking her (and her friend) on a walk to see a gypsy fortuneteller. Jenny has her fortune told while Larry and Gwen talk outside, and then Jenny is attacked as she leaves the gypsy camp. Larry fights off what looks like a wolf, is bitten, and then wakes up the next day healed. Of course, we all know what happens next – Larry finds with the next full moon that he’s now cursed – a werewolf.

While it isn’t perfect, this classic has stood the test of time and continues to be a significant source of inspiration for new approaches to the werewolf myth. Many aspects of the legend in the film, including the gypsy poem and silver being lethal to werewolves, were invented entirely by the writer, Curt Siodmak.

Lon Chaney Jr. filled his most well-known role well, playing the role seriously with anguish and pathos, drawing the audience into his tormented journey. Like the great tragedies, Larry meets a cruel fate and then his attempts to escape it prove futile – but we like Larry, he doesn’t seem like a terrible dude (even though he’s putting the moves on an engaged girl), even if he has his faults we still like him enough to not want him to be cursed forever. But he is. And that terrible, tragic destiny is what draws us to the human side of The Wolf Man – we’re all fighting some things in life that are far beyond our control, but the story of a man cursed as a werewolf offers new depth to that shared feeling. Both fun and darkly thought-provoking, the film comes across as a lean horror flick, but as it unfolds you begin to wonder, what if you were cursed and the lives of others hung in the balance?

With an ending that throws another dark twist of fate on an already tragic tale, The Wolf Man is a classic horror film that, like or know it or not, will continue to influence the werewolf sub-genre for all time.

One name, and in your mind immediately flashes that iconic image – sunken cheeks and eyes, square head lined with stitches, green skin and dirty black clothes – you picture Boris Karloff in Frankenstein, even if you’ve never seen the movie.

Like Lugosi in Dracula, Karloff’s portrayal of Frankenstein’s creation is the quintessential performance, so much so that it’s still ingrained in popular culture to this day. Every representation of Frankenstein’s monster today on Halloween decorations and cereal boxes comes from Jack Pierce’s masterpiece of make up, and Boris Karloff is best known for the role.

Directed by James Whale with make up by Jack Pierce, and featuring supporting characters played by the likes of Dwight Frye and Edward Von Sloan, Frankenstein was an adaptation of superb quality. The film focuses mostly on the horror aspect of Dr. Frankenstein’s experiment, motivating his character with the desire to cross unknown thresholds and learn what it means to hold the power of creation in man’s hands. The resulting creation is innocent and soon becomes a product of its environment, reacting to violence with violence and then entering a world that does not understand him and refuses to do so, leading to his terrorizing the countryside. In the end, the creation captures its creator and takes him to an old windmill, where it throws him from the upper level and then falls into a lonely tomb once the mob of villagers sets it aflame.

The novel is a source of philosophical and existential horror, a classic work that never grows old in its application to mankind. This film boils it down to a simpler narrative, but doing so doesn’t detract from its value or quality – it’s simply a new frame through which to experience the story. One filled with thrills, chills, and a misunderstood monster.

The story would weaken and a take different approach in later sequels, but the original Frankenstein is a classic of the genre and continues to inspire new generations of filmmakers to this day.

“I never drink…wine.”

The classic that kicked off the golden age of horror, Dracula is arguably the weakest of the big three (the other two being Frankenstein and The Wolf Man, of course) but it certainly still holds its own after all these years.

A melding of aspects of the stage adaptation and the original novel, Dracula stars Bela Lugosi in his most iconic role, and Edward Van Sloan as Dr. Van Helsing. Dwight Frye also delivers a stunning performance as Renfield, going from proper London gentleman in the opening scenes to raving lunatic by the end.

The film opens to the tune of “Swan Lake” and then lacks a musical soundtrack for the remainder of the picture. While this is one of the detractors from the film for many modern fans, it’s also one of the main benefits for classic enthusiasts – the creepy, misty atmosphere is enhanced by the gloomy silences interspersed throughout the story.

Though the editing can be a bit awkward at times, that too tends to add to the picture rather than detract from it – Dracula is inhuman, the undead, and the movie’s otherworldly feel truly saturates the story. We all know it, Dracula wishes to move to London to begin feeding on fresh blood in a new location, and when he begins feeding on Mina Harker it catches the attention of her husband and the Professor Van Helsing.

Of course, Lugosi’s portrayal is the most famous aspect of the film, and the effects of this movie and his legacy still permeate the horror genre today. If you ask anyone what their typical vampire looks like, they will describe Lugosi in Dracula – widow’s peak, thick accent, long flowing cape and piercing eyes. More recent pop culture obsessions like Twilight get a lot of added flack from horror/vampire enthusiasts simply because the vamps in that universe stray so terribly far from our cultural precedent.

The lack of music and long shots may turn some people off, but if you are a fan of the gothic tale or of the horror genre you should see this masterpiece of cinema – it may not be the greatest film, but it’s certainly one of the most influential and lasting works of horror.

The trailer for Machete appeared during the amazing Grindhouse from Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, and now it’s a full length feature! Perfect!

But not quite.

Machete starts out exactly like you’d expect – a hilarious exploitation movie. And due to that tone, a really cool film and story. Machete used to be a Federale, but after a drug king kills his family he runs away from his past, and ends up in Texas as a day laborer.

He’s then hired to assassinate a Senator but is set up and has to run from the law and chase those who did him wrong in order to introduce them to justice in the form of a machete. After he escapes the assassination trap, the film suddenly takes a turn for the worse. The plot starts to thicken, and not in a good way – it’s the viscosity of a swamp and everything is bogged down by it. The jokes are gone, the over the top sequences are gone (for the most part), and all that’s left is an amazing premise that they take seriously when they most definitely should not.

There are jokes and comedic moments throughout the last two thirds of the film, but they just don’t have the pop or spark like those of the first act. You’ll chuckle to yourself quite a bit, but you won’t ever fully laugh for the rest of the movie. And that’s an incredibly sad thing to experience. It’s like watching Snakes on a Plane and then the snakes all get dumped off the plane twenty five minutes into the flick – is the rest of it going to be interesting and worth watching?

That analogy aside (regardless of how accurate or poor it is), I think the perfect comparison film for this would be Black Dynamite. That’s an over the top comedy, and even though the plot gets incredibly convoluted as the film progresses, it’s a send up of that type of movie and maintains its consistent approach and tone throughout. You don’t go through one scene in Black Dynamite where something ridiculous or absurd isn’t said. You start out in Machete that way, but once the absurd nature begins to fade you’re just left with a shrug-worthy action movie. So if you’re interested in Machete, I’d say just stick to the trailer while watching Grindhouse and you’ll stay satisfied.