For the
sake of not having to write the same intro a million
different ways throughout the rest of time, just know that
this column avoids the overly long and sometimes dull
process of full film reviews and instead opts to break
things down based on what I thought going in, what happened
while I was there and what I learned at the end of it all.
Thanks for reading!
The
Breakdown - I Am Number Four
The Impression:
What with the slab of concrete that is Alex Pettyfer leading
the charge, and the perpetually backsliding DJ Caruso behind
the camera of yet another teen-lit adaptation, I can only
imagine this film will be much like soldering my
nether-regions to a car battery.
The Reality:
I’m grimly fascinated with DJ Caruso. Long, long ago, under
the recommendation of a trusted source, I watched The
Salton Sea and was absolutely blown away. Style and
substance so gracefully blended in to a neo-noir unlike any
released in the previous years. I expected great things from
DJ Caruso. Yet they never came. His filmography since has
been an EKG of ups and downs, with even his best films of
late (Suspiria has a modicum of charm) being merely
shallow entertainment. His decision to continue in the
teen-oriented vein with I Am Number Four seemed yet
another step backwards in to the abyss, but because I’m
always hoping for a return to form, I made plans to indulge
in its obvious idiocy.
To confess a dire sin: I actually enjoyed it quite a bit.
The story of an alien child on the run from sharp-toothed
alien colonists, hell-bent on his eradication, could’ve been
another mindless romp fronted by a pretty face. For the most
part, it is this, but Caruso manages to gather his directing
chops for a moment and spike the film’s punch with a handful
of impressive action scenes. Sure, the film is deluded by
awkward dialogue and character beats that stem from nowhere,
but I was handcuffed with disbelieving enjoyment the entire
film. When it ended, sequel wanting tentacles dangling in
the void, I was ready for more. Call it a sick love for DJ
Caruso’s particular brand of torture, or maybe this is just
a better-than-average Hollywood blockbuster.
The Lesson:
DJ Caruso might be down, but he’s never out for the count.
- Noah Sanders
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