When I was eight I saw 1939’s The Wizard of Oz for the first time. It didn’t change my life or teach me any unique lessons, but it was never boring and it wasn’t afraid to break the mold as far as cinematic standards were concerned. Last week I saw Sam Raimi’s attempt to bring me back to that far-away-from-home fantasyland, but it seemed to be two ruby slippers short of having a pair.

My main criticism of Oz the Great and Powerful is that it was afraid of taking chances. Every scene, line of dialogue and plot ‘twist’ seemed formulaic to almost an insulting degree. This movie wasn’t trying to take me back to Oz, it was taking me on a theme park ride through it, throwing cheap platitudes at me at every turn in an attempt to sell me on a newer, ‘cooler’ Oz that had younger actors and sex appeal.

Speaking of sex appeal, I found it difficult to accept the movie’s version of an ‘ugly’ witch in the form of Mila Kunis. They slapped on some thin green face point, a slightly curved nose and gave her some chin putty. She still could have won Miss Oz ‘13 with the effort they put towards her uglification.

I love James Franco as much as one man could disingenuously love a geographically-distant celebrity entity, but I feel that he only hurt his career by signing on to this emerald cash-in. This isn’t the same James that survived a rock-climbing disaster, fought Spiderman and got high with me. With his younger brother Dave getting his name into some big titles recently, including a short-lived but deserved role in Warm Bodies, it might be the dawning of a new era of Franco.

To put it simply, Oz the Great and Powerful was boring. It didn’t do the universe justice and seemed to exist for the sole purpose of setting up a new merchandise-heavy trilogy. If I had to cite any redeeming factors in the movie, it would have to be Zach Braff’s sarcasm-laden performance as Franco’s CGI helper monkey. I laughed at every other one-liner he sent my way, though the movie never really explained how Franco’s Kansas aide managed to throw his voice all the way to Oz. In that same vein, the movie didn’t explain a whole lot, such as why Michelle Williams’ character was identical to Oz’s real-world sweetheart. And it seemed like Raimi was setting us up for a different kind of “it was a dream all along” ending but chickened out halfway through directing the thing.

Frankly, that would have been better.

andrew terefenko,

production editor

Mark O’Brien was a virgin until he was 38. He was a poet, journalist and activist; he also had a rare form of polio that completely paralyzed him from the neck down. The Sessions is based on O’Brien’s life, particularly a period of it he wrote about in a personal essay published in The Sun magazine entitled “On Seeing a Sex Surrogate”.

O’Brien writes that for most of his life he viewed his sexuality with a mixture of intense envy and guilt, and the emotion is perfectly captured in an early scene in The Sessions. Mark, expertly and subtly played by John Hawkes, is bathed by his attendant, and as she reaches his groin a look of disgust flashes across her face. A look of embarrassment passes over his.

The lightness with which The Sessions deals with its heavy subject matter is perhaps its greatest accomplishment. Despite Mark being confined for most of the day to a gigantic iron lung that allows him to breath, the balance between the heavy and the lighthearted is apparent from the start. The Sessions begins with a narrated poem written by O’Brien describing the sad irony that so little of the air all around him is actually useful. The poem is interrupted by Mark trying to figure out how to scratch an itch.

The iron lung defines Mark’s life, a reality he challenges by deciding to figure out his sexuality instead of accepting its non-existence. He decides to contact a sex therapist, someone who works through the psychological and the physical aspects of sexuality. Mark’s therapist, played by Helen Hunt in an Oscar-nominated role, informs him that her goal is for them to have sex. Her main rule is that the number of sessions they can have is limited to six, the implication being to prevent the emotional attachment of her patients. But of course it’s not that simple, and instead of shying away from complicated emotions The Sessions embraces them and tries to make sense of it all.

The scenes of intimacy between Mark and his therapist involve a lot of nudity and, at least initially, plenty of awkwardness. But they gradually become a powerful depiction of mutual love that is far more complex than sex scenes we’re used to seeing. It’s a reminder of the profound emotional experience that sex can be.

Director and writer Ben Lewin avoids any sense of over-dramatization or voyeurism in his portrayal of O’Brien. Despite the inevitable sad ending, the film lets us down easy, allowing the emotions to speak for themselves. The movie has drawn some criticism for depicting a much-simplified version of the end of O’Brien’s life, which in some sense is true. More so than the film, O’Brien’s writing reveals that his therapy resolved his fear of sex but did little for his fear of love.

A good documentary provides an accurate depiction of its subject. Good fiction, on the other hand, is something we can relate to. In pulling us close, The Sessions inevitably pushes O’Brien a little bit away, which actually helps realize what he wanted all along. To paraphrase O’Brien, stories about people with disabilities end up being about what they can or can’t do. The reality is that they’re simply human.

If the Oscars had a “most important film” category The Sessions would’ve won it.

Nolan Matthews, Senior ANDY Editor

Rarely is a film released with as much attention to detail, as much craft,or as much palm-sweat-inducing tension as Argo. Ben Affleck has done an incredible job turning the infamous “Canadian Caper” story into a masterful film. Every actor involved plays their parts perfectly.

The most impressive thing about Argo, though, is that every scene in the film means something. Every bit of dialogue and every second of film are so carefully planned that it results in an extremely solid movie that makes you think just as often as sweat.

The plot takes place in three main locations. Tony Mendez, played by Ben Affleck, is a CIA agent sent to Iran to free six American diplomats, who are hiding out in the house of a Canadian ambassador after Iran’s citizens effectively wage war on the USA. Mendez comes up with the brilliant scheme of disguising all six of them, and himself, as a Canadian film crew scouting locations.

The second part of the movie takes place in Hollywood, and, for the most part, provides the comic relief. Makeup artist John Chambers and director Lester Seigel assist the operation by setting up a fake studio. The last part of the film takes place in Washington, DC, where Mendez’s spy agency is located; this is where the operation is organized. The fact that this film is based on a true story makes everything even crazier.

Even if you are unfamiliar with the original story you can easily follow along because every part of the film is perfectly paced.

Argo is the best movie of the year, and a serious Oscar contender. If you haven’t seen it yet, then either make your way to a theatre immediately or, in the words of Lester Seigel, “Argo fuck yourself.”

5 stars out of 5.

Alexander Sallas