Brüno

(2009)

Dir: Larry Charles

Just how much of this film is genuine? That’s the question that I found myself asking after seeing Brüno, the third film from Sacha Baron Cohen’s character stable after 2002’S Ali G Indahouse and 2006’S Borat. Baron Cohen has assured us of genuinity in his third feature, this time following the American exploits of gay fashionista Brüno as he attempts to become famous. If this is true then, just like Borat, there are some hilarious moments. But the humour doesn’t come solely from the central character, who is, in all fairness, a cartoonish gay caricature. Baron Cohen uses this outlandish stereotype as the most effective means to garner a reaction from his uptight, deeply homophobic American landlords.

With some of the players in this mockumentary, the ridiculous Brüno character is redundant, with any gay individual eliciting a hostile and sometimes violent response. Particular fun are Bruno’s exploits with the Christian ‘gay converters’, who suggest to the former fashion reporter different heterosexual tasks. These ironically include going hunting with a bunch of other guys, cage fighting, a swinger’s party and joining the army.

But, as with the boring and lazy naked hotel romp in Borat, there are moments in Brüno which resort to slapstick for cheap laughs. Brüno simulating oral sex with an invisible Rob Pilatus of Milli Vanilli, as the poor spiritualist looks on, has none of the cutting bite of other scenes. There are standouts, such as Bruno interviewing several parents who are desperate for their children to become famous, so desperate in fact that they are perfectly fine with Bruno suggesting their babies have liposuction or wear Nazi uniforms.

Like its Kazakhstani cousin, Brüno works best as a commentary on American culture. When it becomes too much in love with its titular character, it fails. Thankfully, there’s plenty of the former to satisfy ... darling.

*** ¼ / *****

“Star ratings are so 2006.”

Wall-E

(2008)

Dir: Andrew Stanton

It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.

I have a serious problem watching a lot of Pixar films: I just can’t bloody handle them! Andrew Stanton and company are so versed in the art of playing with heartstrings like Jimi Hendrix on a Fender that it makes each and every second of their films an emotional (cliché time) rollercoaster.

Wall-E is no different. Whilst he never quite reaches the astronomic heights of brilliance of the Toy Story trilogy, it comes about as close as any Pixar film save possibly Finding Nemo. The story is dazzling. Our hero is Wall-E, a trash compactor robot designed to clear up an abandoned earth ruined by humanities’ excess. There’s just one problem: Wall-E is all alone. There’s no debate in my mind that he wins the award for the most adorable movie character of the past decade. Hands down. His mere presence makes this dystopian wasteland appear beautiful. His silent interaction with his cockroach companion, as he diligently goes about his work, is a joy to behold, filled with subtle slapstick humour and wonderful touches of emotion, as Wall-E stares longingly at old footage of musicals.

The action picks up with the arrival of EVE, a probe bot sent down to search for plant life. Thus begins the strangest and most beautiful romance in cinema history. It really is a joy to watch Wall-E’s pursuit of EVE, following her literally to the stars and beyond. Wall-E drops ever so slightly, with the introduction of the human characters, although the gluttonous vision created by these obese tubs of lard is a horridly poignant one.

But this film is all about robots. They are sensational. Wall-E is the star. He may very well be one of the greatest characters of all time, and this film is right up there with him.

Now would someone please hand me a tissue.

**** ¾ / *****

“So this is what beyond infinity looks like?”

Drop Dead Gorgeous

(1999)

Dir: Michael Patrick Jann

A documentary about a beauty pageant? What could possibly go wrong? A mockumentary you say? Oh my.

1999’s Drop Dead Gorgeous from director Michael Patrick Jann, now sadly best known for directing sketches on the extremely passable Little Britain USA, is a hilarious and criminally overlooked black comedy which charts the events from the ‘Sarah Rose Cosmetics Mount Rose American Teen Princess Pageant’ in small-town America.

1995’s Clueless and 1999’s 10 Things I Hate About You showed real potential for comedy in an American high school setting, but this film builds on both and takes things even further to the dark side. It doesn’t stick to the documentary format as rigidly as the films of Christopher Guest for example, with Kirsten Dunst’s character presented as the obvious heroine, whilst Denise Richard’s bitchy starlet and her over competitive mother, played by Kirstie Alley on hilarious form, are the villains.

But this mockumentary succeeds in its vast array of unusual characters, which it has no shortage of, given the sheer amount of gorgeous gals entering in the pageant. Comic standouts are future Oscar nominee Amy Adams as the innocently slutty (and horny) cheerleader Leslie and the sorely underused Tara Redepenning as the Japanese adopted Molly. There are almost too many to name, from the paedophile judge to Dunst’s alcoholic mother, but a special mention must go to Denise Richards’ rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Of You’ whilst dancing with a Jesus doll on a rolling crucifix. It really is a sight to behold.

A dark and witty script, nothing is safe; not bizarre American ‘patriotism, vanity, pushy parents, nothing.

It’s a shame that Jann fell off the radar after this, because Drop Dead Gorgeous show a great deal of comic potential, which a lot of the stars went on to exploit.

*** ¾ / *****

“Bitchy is beautiful.”

...

As I tried to think of a close companion to this film I was struck by one in particular – Little Miss Sunshine. Both rip into beauty pageants by picking out the strange all-American thought propaganda that these pouting vacuous spectacles seem to emanate. I give LMS the edge for being brutally honest because there can be no doubt that it is truly creepy seeing a group of pre-pubescent girls begin to prance around like they’re a load of tiny dogs on some horribly coquettish display. However what Drop Dead Gorgeous has is a far darker, much more deliciously comic tone.

The tale is straight forward enough. The lovely Kirsten Dunst wants to escape the dead eyed – presumably mountain town although I never saw any evidence of this – of Mount Rose, Minnesota. The best way in her mind to do this is to emulate the route taken by her hero. Namely, the reputed former model and news anchor Diane Sawyer.

We get introduced to the other characters and we find out who they are from their respective interviews with a documentary crew who repeatedly break the fourth wall and who are there to film the event, for some reason.

Here we meet the excellently pouty and curvaceous Denise Richards, who plays Rebecca Ann Leeman. Probably this is Richards’ best ever performance. One that is both amusing and very sinister. Also we begin to discover a horrible truth about the character of Amber Atkins, played by Dunst. Her ADHD is so strong that it has a real grip over her entire life. The effect is she has to skip and hop around her myriad jobs with the sort of frenetic tap dancing furore of a deranged grass hopper.

So it’s a credit to everyone involved that throughout she remains a likeable character. Clearly this is a rare example of a film working on all cylinders. The acting, direction and script are all great. The story is especially well constructed, with a surprise twist that provides a great example of the film’s witty strengths. A poor decision is made on contracting a float to be built in Mexico. The presiding pastor comments on the passing of one of the characters thusly. (Spoiler)

‘And so, dear Lord, it is with deep sadness that we turn over to you this young woman, whose dream to ride on a giant swan resulted in her death. Maybe it is your way of telling us... to buy American.’

It’s with great zingers like this that the film manages to largely cut through the treacle. Indeed there is virtually no sickening sentimentality whatsoever, which is always a relief. The film is a mixture of the silly and the satirical. It comes at you with a real social comment on something that is quintessentially a part of Americana and does a commendable job of savaging it in the process. It’s only in fact the ending that riles me up a notch. It seems as if it maybe was included to put a bit of a happy spin on the events of the film. I would have preferred the bittersweet ending where having seen what has transpired at the beauty contest HQ the prospective beauty queens go mental and smash the place up. But anyway, that’s just me.

****/*****

Angels and Demons

(2009)

Dir: Ron Howard

Angels and Demons works much better on the screen than it ever did on the page. In the same vain as adaptations of Tom Clancy or the techno-babble of Michael Crichton, Brown’s fiction is filled with interesting plot, thrilling action and page after bloody page of tedious, expositional dialogue. That is still a serious problem in Ron Howard’s first Brown adaptation, 2006’s The Da Vinci code, but he does his best to eliminate as much of the monotonous drivel as possible in Professor Robert Langdon’s second clash with the world of religion. Mind you though, there’s still a hell of a lot left.

This time around, Langdon, a smug Tom Hanks, is recruited by the Vatican to assist in the recovery of four Cardinals, kidnapped during Papal Conclave. The villains, the legendary Illuminati, have also stolen a vial of antimatter from CERN and have planted it somewhere in the Vatican, set the blow. Thus begins a wild chase. For a plot that’s been done by everyone from Willis to Van Damme, it really is rather complicated. Antimatter instead of a nuclear bomb? Come on now.

 

“Holy antimatter, Batman.”

 

But the convoluted plotting aside, Angels and Demons is still an entertaining ride, rarely slowing down for its albeit overlong 146 minute running time.

You couldn’t really ask for a better location to shoot a film, but Howard and cinematographer Salvatore Totino do a wonderful job of turning the beautiful Vatican into a dark, flickering, Gothic labyrinth.

The cast does what they can with the painfully dimensionless characters, though it’s only Nikolaj Lie Kaas and the husky voiced Stellan Skarsgård who make anything of their albeit slim roles, investing The Assassin and Commander Richter respectively with real menace and mystery.

A visually enjoyable yet silly thriller; despite what the book might want you to believe, this is popcorn entertainment.

*** ¼ / *****

The A-Team

(2010)

Dir: Joe Carnahan

I know little about The A-Team. The T.V. series that is, which seems to have become embedded in modern male culture like masturbation and afternoon naps. I’m familiar with the characters, but little else, so I came at Joe Carnahan’s remake of the same name from a neutral perspective.

There’s not much to say about this action flick. It really is all about the characters, which is welcome in a huge summer blockbuster. That doesn’t mean the film isn’t packed to the gills with bombastic set-pieces designed to cripple your eardrums. A tank. In the air. Flying. ‘Nuff said. The action might be loud, but it fails. Carnahan’s overreliance on CGI is the major detractor.

But forget all that, people watch The A-Team for the characters. As the 21^st Century incarnations, Liam Neeson, Bradley Cooper, Quinton Jackson and Sharlto Copley do a sterling job. They have enough screen presence and chemistry between them to make their scenes enormously fun.

Alternatively, the villains of the piece, led by Patrick Wilson’s shady CIA spook, are even more entertaining, mixing arrogance with incompetence, fleshing out usually predicable, throwaway roles into something more memorable.

The plot, involving some stolen U.S. Treasury plates, which Neeson’s Hannibal Smith and the rest of his boys are framed for stealing, is standard fodder. The McGuffin. The Girl. The Villain. All accounted for.

It’s the girl who throws a pouting spanner in the works. Jessica Biel is a babe, no doubt about, but her role is far too big. Her sub-plot with Bradley Cooper’s chisel-chested Faceman feels like a narrative contrivance which serves nothing but take time away from the interplay between the four leads.

Much like Batman Begins and this year’s Robin Hood, this is an origins tale, which plants the seeds for future instalments. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be enough left in the tank of this story for a Plan B.

** ¾ / *****

“I hate it when a bad movie comes together.”

Knight and Day

(2010)

Dir: James Mangold

Just like Nicolas Cage, Tom Cruise is at his best when he’s crazy. It just so happens that he seems to be crazy all the time, so The Cruise is usually always worth watching. And he’s at his most watchable in years in James Mangold’s hilarious action romp Knight and Day.

Cruise plays Roy Miller, a suave super spy who just ‘happens’ to bump into Cameron Diaz’s charmingly lovely June Havens at the airport, from where they proceed to go on the run together, pursued by Peter Saarsgard’s dastardly CIA spook and Jordi Mollà’s arms dealer, all eager to get their hands on the films MacGuffin. And if you care at all about what it is, the film probably hasn’t worked for you. Because this is the Cruise and Diaz show. And what a lovely show it is. The pair has chemistry that crackles with dark comedic timing one minute and sizzles with sexuality the next. Both look to be having a blast in their respective roles, their tongues placed firmly in their cheeks as bullets and cars fly harmlessly by. Cruise is almost on Collateral form again here, if his assassin Vincent had fancied Jamie Foxx’s cab driver that is.

The action is gripping too, with an early car chase a particular delight, as Cruise hangs off the top of June’s car for dear life, hopping from vehicle to vehicle as though they were mere stepping stones. There is a failing though. The villains. Undeveloped and underused, Saarsgard and Mollà are left as your usual action bastards, doing very little but talking into phones, pointing guns and giving orders. Completely characterless.

But thankfully the two key performances score in a big way. Big, breezy and beautiful, Cruise and Diaz light up the screen for just under two nonstop hours in one of the most genuinely enjoyable and surprising flicks of the year.

*** ½ / *****

“Respect ... The Cock Cruise.”

The Book of Eli

(2009)

Dir: The Hughes Brothers

The opening minutes are mesmerizing; genuine visual excellence from the twin duo who have brought us such films as Dead Presidents and From Hell over the course of the past two decades. Denzel Washington’s stoic nomad sits amidst a grey, ashen forest, waiting for his feline prey. Atticus Ross’ chillingly atmospheric soundtrack compliments the gloomy yet stunning cinematography of Don Burgess so that the Hughes Brothers nine year wait was well on its way to being worth every second. Unfortunately, it’s all downhill from here.

Burgess’ initially gorgeous post-apocalyptic visuals descend into the usual, Mad Max meets Sergio Leone arid desert, as Washington’s Eli trudges along, a mysterious Holy warrior on a righteous path. He encounters Gary Oldman’s local Sheriff (what else can you call him?), who is possessed with the notion of getting his hands on Eli’s Bible. Oldman nibbles at the scenery ever so delicately, but never threatens to be anything other than entertaining.

 

Out with the new. In with the Old…man.

 

Mila Kunis’ tagalong, as the young girl who escapes with Eli from Oldman’s clutches, is a particular weak point in an already flimsy tale. Pouting away from behind her WAG sunglasses, Kunis looks about as convincing in this landscape as Eamonn Holmes in a gym. But Washington is the focal point, and an uninspiring one at that.

In fact, The Book of Eli is the first film from the Hughes Brothers since 2001’s Jack the Ripper misfire of Alan Moore’s brilliant graphic novel From Hell. It isn’t a patch on another recent post-apocalyptic film, John Hillcoat’s brilliant The Road from 2006, but then few films are. The Book of Eli is much more interested in action than Hillcoat’s depressing picture, but it never quite delivers. The overt religious undertones are irrelevant, not playing a part in the overall enjoyment factor.

An ultimately disappointing and unoriginal effort from two talented directors who made us wait a long time for something we’ve already seen.

** ¾ / *****

Alice in Wonderland

(2010)

Dir: Tim Burton

I’ve seen video game films before, but this film felt more like one than any of them.

For a man lauded for his creativity, Burton does tend to do a lot of adaptations. Oh sorry, Tim, I meant re-imaginings. It worked with his Batman films in the early 90s, but his recent efforts have been laughable. Alice in Wonderland features the same annoying sprog of Lewis Carroll’s imagination, this time as an equally irritating teenager, returning to what has become ‘Underland’, where she must slay the Jabberwocky to end the Red Queen’s reign of terror.

Though I’ve never been the biggest fan of Carroll’s original and extremely overrated tale, it does posses a certain magical charm. Burton’s vision does not. It resembles The Chronicle of Narnia but with even more bloody CGI. I dread to think what it must have looked like in 3D.

Despite Helen Bonham Carter, Anne Hathaway and the always watchable Crispin Glover’s best efforts to bring some entertainment to this drudging flick as the Red Queen, White Queen and Knave of Hearts respectively, they are fighting an impossible battle. Gone is the charm of Carroll or even Disney, replaced by the annoying shenanigans of Depp as the Mad Hatter and the charisma vacuum of Mia Wasikowska as Alice. They drain the film of vibrancy. This is another ‘crazy’ Johnny Depp performance to add to an ever-growing and already redundant pile.

Tim Burton is an acquired taste. His Gothic obsession and man-crush on Depp makes him the hero of many an Emo or Goth (that’s what they’re called now, right?). Unfortunately he hasn’t made a good film since 1999’s Sleepy Hollow, and Alice in Wonderland joins the likes of Planet of the Apes, Big Fish, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as another enormous misfire.

** / *****

“Worse and worser.”

The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

(2009)

Dir: Werner Herzog

 

Is there a Nicolas Cage film which isn’t entertaining? Granted, I haven’t seen the 2006 remake of The Wicker Man, but the Jack side of this partnership assures me that despite the shitty film, The Cage is still good fun.

 

Nic Cage trapped in a cage.

Fortunately, The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans isn’t a shitty film, but a rather great one, made even better by the wildly hypnotic central performance from the man himself.

As police officer Terrence McDonagh, Cage is in his element. After developing a drug addiction following a work related injury in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, everything else (including law enforcement) takes a backseat to McDonagh’s efforts to score drugs and make money. In just one of many fantastic scenes featuring this loveable bastard, McDonagh accosts two young lovers as they come out of an affluent nightclub, not only shaking them down for drugs, but then proceeding to have sex with the young woman at gunpoint, whilst forcing her beau to watch. This is only topped by his visit to an old people’s home. ‘Nuff said.

Cage and director Werner Herzog are a match made in psycho heaven. Both are batshit crazy and it fills every inch of The Bad Lieutenant. Alligators and iguanas appear on shaky handheld cameras, viewing these insane events, as McDonagh also tries to solve the gruesome murder of an unfortunate Senegalese family. Some films just capture the effects of mind-fucking drugs wonderfully. Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream did it, Michael Winterbottom’s 24 Hour Party People did it, and now Werner Herzog’s powder-soaked police brain-scrambler has done it.

It is almost an example of one man’s power to make a film great. No offence to the other players, such as Val Kilmer and Eva Mendes as McDonagh’s partner and girlfriend respectively, but this is the Nicolas Cage show. He is everything and everywhere. Together with the excellent Kick Ass, he is having a hell of a run.

**** / *****

The Kids Are All Right

(2010)

Dir: Lisa Cholodenko

It would be interesting to see a British approach to a film like this. It probably isn’t the most encouraging statement, but this what I kept thinking whilst watching Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids Are All Right.

The plot is an odd one. Julianne Moore and Annette Benning are Jules and Nic, a lesbian couple with two adopted children, Mia Wasikowska’s Joni and Josh Hutcherson’s bizarrely named Laser. That’s interesting enough, but when the two brats contact their all-important sperm donor and biological father Paul, played by Mark Ruffalo, things get spicy.

The reason I wonder at a British version is because there is a lot of talking in Cholodenko’s flick. A lot of talking. A lot ‘feelings’. The most humorous moments are from the male characters, Laser and Paul, who retain some of their monosyllabic mannerisms, despite being the two most interesting players. Just what is it like to be raised by two women? It is a sorely underexplored theme, but then Laser and his sister are undeveloped characters. They both have sub-plots that go nowhere, in the favour of redundant and unoriginal romance between Jules and Paul.

This all sounds very critical, but The Kids Are All Right is still an entertaining piece. It ‘s simply that with a unique plot like this, there was so much potential for a hilarious and poignant classic, which it threatens to be at times, but ultimately conforms to Hollywood fodder.

The cast do a good job, with neither Moore nor Benning falling into the trap of becoming the gay ‘Hollywood’ stereotype. Ruffalo is suitably charming and slimy at different times, and it is only the younger members of the cast who feel slight, but that is due to the script, not their performances.

Worth the effort, but give this plot to a director like Mike Leigh and let’s see what happens.

*** ¼ / *****

“The film is all right.”

Wall Street

(1987)

Dir: Oliver Stone

When I’m reading a newspaper, I tend to skip through the economics section. Yes, yes, yes, I know it’s important and all in our current enslavement to the capitalist machine, but good god is it boring and complicated.

Unfortunately for Oliver Stone’s 1987 assault on the consumer excess, it feels like two hours worth of this nonsense. Thank God it has the devilish Michael Douglas doing the talking, otherwise this would be unbearable. It’s a problem that arises in a lot of film basing themselves in reality; just how do you make your subject matter engaging to an audience who aren’t, let’s say, economics graduates? David Fincher recently faced a similar dilemma with The Social Network, an account of the inception of Facebook. Sounds Cancerously fun, but Fincher and screenwriter Aaron Sorkin somehow manage to make the extremely talky and technical script hip, breezy, riveting and engaging.

This is something which Stone never quite manages to do in Wall Street. He comes damn close, don’t get me wrong. His choice of cast is excellent, with the fresh-faced Charlie Sheen, intoxicating Darryl Hannah, Martin Sheen is, well, Martin Sheen, and, of course, the slimy Douglas adding a great deal of sizzle to mind-rottingly dull dialogue. The soundtrack, as in Fincher’s tale, is superb; Talking Heads bop away in true 80s style, almost turning the narcoleptic script into lyrics. But it isn’t quite there.

The story feels a little too predictable at times. Charlie Sheen’s young, ambitious, impressionable stockbroker is lured away from the hard-working ethics of his father by the glitz and glamour of Douglas’ Gordon Gekko, including an army of prostitutes, including the ‘classy’ Darryl Hannah.

But this is obvious, Faustian stuff. The moral climax is clear from the outset, and while I’m a fan of both Stone and any degradation of capitalism, an injection of objective subtlety would have helped Wall Street’s impact.

*** / *****

“Greed could be better.”

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

(2009)

Dir: Wes Anderson

There’s a lot of debate going around about whether or not Wes Anderson’s adaptation of Roald Dahl’s classic The Fantastic Mr. Fox is a children’s film. If you watch it with your eyes closed, it isn’t. If you watch it on mute, it is.

It’s nice on this fence.

But that is where Anderson’s film belongs. Visually it is an absolutely stunning achievement; with Anderson’s choice of stop-motion effects over trendier forms of animation rewarding him with a rich tapestry looking like it fell right out of Dahl’s magical mind. Characters dance back and forth across this toy town landscape like puppets, staring into the camera with somewhat psychotic plastic eyes, and it couldn’t look better.

The dialogue works in that very ‘Wes Anderson’ way, meaning there’s a lot of it, and most of it is mumbled. So crank that volume up, baby! Fortunately, he has George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman and Bill ‘The Great’ Murray doing the mumbling, so it’s worth the effort.

Clooney is the titular Mr. Fox, a self-conscious animal who promises his wife (Streep) that he will give up the chicken poaching business. Unfortunately, he goes back on this promise several years later and ends up incurring the combined wrath of Farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean.

Everything rolls along at such a lyrical pace, with music from The Rolling Stones to name but one providing the soundtrack. Yes, some of The Fantastic Mr. Fox might feel like a normal Wes Anderson mumblethon with animals, but … so what? Can’t we be engaged by the dialogue and wowed by the visuals at the same time? Is there no such thing as a children’s films for adults?

Anderson needs to continue this original streak and not return to his old safe ground of navel gazing. He’s on to a real winner here.

*** ¾ / *****

“The Fantastic Mr. … Anderson?”

The Social Network

(2010)

Dir: David Fincher

My Dad asked me the other day what The Social Network was about and all I could say was, “Facebook.” Way to put someone off, you wanker.

But David Fincher’s dramatization of Facebook’s fiery birth is not a film about, as I so eloquently put it, Facebook. Who the Dickens would want to see that? Well, my sister would, but apart from her? Not many people.

It’s a film about men, blokes, geezers. Fincher gives The Social Network the Zodiac treatment. It’s a talky-talky film, with a script hot off the presses from West Wing scribe Aaron Sorkin, but Fincher, as he did with Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo and Robert Downey Jr., compiles a list of leads who you actually don’t mind hearing speak. Jesse Eisenberg is the obvious standout as Mark Zuckerberg, the borderline Autistic genius who invents (or does he?) the legendary social fountain, but he is ably supported by Andrew Garfield as Eduardo Saverin, Zuckerberg’s betrayed best friend, and Justin Timberlake as the unscrupulous Sean Parker.

There is no standard narrative, with half of the tale told from a court room and the other in flashback form from Harvard. Fincher keeps things interesting, spiking the scenes of what would be tedious technological geek babble with a frankly pumping soundtrack making even algorithms sound cool. And it is cool. The Social Network sounds cool. The Social Network looks cool. As with all Fincher films, there is very little light, and Jeff Cronenweth’s excellent cinematography evokes memories of an earlier collaboration with the director, 1999’s brilliant Fight Club.

But The Social Network feels most similar to Zodiac as a Fincherian (I can say that now, right?) piece. The look, the style, and the eclectic yet engaging relationship between its obsessive male leads make the film. It’s a tribute to Fincher’s skills as a filmmaker that he has taken an essentially dull idea (just ask my Dad) about a group of extremely unlikeable individuals and created one of the most gripping dramas in years.

Now, where’s the “Like” button?

**** ¼  / *****


“David Fincher has one new friend request.”

Hot Tub Time Machine

(2010)

Dir: Steve Pink

It was acceptable in the 80s.

What a pleasant surprise. I certainly didn’t go into Hot Tub Time Machine with high hopes. They say never judge a book by its cover, but in my defence, this film does have one horrible cover. But that’s what makes Steve Pink’s throwback comedy even more enjoyable, the fact that I wasn’t expecting to enjoy myself.

The premise is as simple and ridiculous as you can get, as three childhood friends, along with one of their nephews, take a trip to an old teenage haunt of theirs for some r ‘n’ r, but end up travelling back to the 1980s thanks to the titular hot tub. It is like some insane cross between Back to the Future (it even has Crispin bloody Glover in it!) and The Hangover. Whilst it isn’t on the same level as Robert Zemeckis’ 1985 time travel romp, Hot Tub Time Machine destroys Todd Phillips’s supposedly ‘cooler’ affair. Gone are the slick pretty-boys being made to look uncool by their loser friends; instead we get four absolutely torrid deadbeats, played by John Cusack, Rob Corddry, Clark Duke and Craig Robinson.

In its gentle ribbing of 80s teen cinema, Hot Tub Time Machine excels, complete with ski-resort setting, twattish bully, fights, strangely impressionable young women and lots of hideous, hideous jumpers. Cusack obviously has no problem in this kind of role, but the rest of the cast supports him ably. Corddry is an annoying prick, but that’s his character, whilst Duke is fine as Cusack’s young nephew, and the monosyllabic Robinson gets one of the most hilarious scenes, as he berates his startled eight-year-old future wife on the phone for having an affair some twenty years later.

Just like its misleading title, Hot Tub Time Machine doesn’t take itself too seriously and doesn’t pretend to be anything other than a bit of fun on a Friday night. And it does a damn good job at it.

*** ½ / *****

Burn After Reading

(2008)

Dir: Joel and Ethan Coen

Espionage is bullshit. That seems to be the message pervading the Coen Brother’s blackly comic ensemble piece, Burn After Reading. The most titillating scenes are the ones set in CIA HQ, as a hapless agent tries to explain the convoluted events of the film to his supervisor. The fact that the Coen’s even decide to use this setting to describe the final events of the film rather than actually show them, speaks volumes of how effective these scenes actually are.

But take nothing away from the rest of the film. The Coen’s carve out a neat and tidy ‘chance’ comedy, as former CIA analyst John Malkovich misplaces his self-important memoirs in the gym, where they are discovered by Brad Pitt’s fitness instructor Chad and Cohen regular Frances McDormand as the surgery obsessed Linda Litzke, who decide to blackmail Malkovich’s Osbourne. Throw George Clooney into the mix as the sleazebag who is having an affair with both Osbourne’s wife (Tilda Swinton) and Linda and you have the perfect recipe for misunderstanding and disaster.

It is a pleasure to watch these Hollywood superstars making fools of themselves. Not one single character in the Coen’s witty romp escapes with any dignity. Pitt and Clooney are the standouts, with the seasoned Pitt doing a stunning job as the hapless jock, constantly bopping away to his iPod. Clooney’s erratic Harry is also a hoot, going from smug scumbag to paranoid cry-baby in a matter of minutes. His wild outburst at Linda in the park is a particular treat.

No Country for Old Men, this is not, but it isn’t trying to be. An incidental but very fun film from the creative siblings, and a chance for all those involved to take of their serious ‘actor’ hats, let their hair down (except for Malkovich) and do what they do best: entertain.

*** ½ / *****

“Watch before burning please.”

Resident Evil: Extinction

(2007)

Dir: Russell Mulcahy

What she’s gone psionic now?

Say what you want about the Resident Evil film series; they’ve at least been learning from their mistakes. Each one has been an improvement, which is all you can ask from a franchise which makes no bones about being a touch of light relief.

The larger the setting, the greater the fun. That was proven by Alexander Witt 2004’s Apocalypse, when he dragged the series kicking and screaming out of the underground into a violent dystopia. Apocalypse would have been a more suitable title for the third instalment in the scarlet-stained series. Unlike the dark, urban setting of Apocalypse, the desert wastelands of Extinction give the tale a far greater post-apocalyptic mood. The Mad Max films are the easiest comparison to make, as Milla Jovovich’s returning Alice leads a band of survivors across the barren earth in search of sanctuary.

The simplistic plot is hindered once again by the inclusion of the shady Umbrella Corporation and, in particular, the satin-lunged Iain Glen as the psychotic Dr. Isaacs. Monster films do not need this kind of over plotting; it’s where the Alien series died, when it became more about Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley than the titular, acid-lathed xenomorphs.

Director Russell Mulcahy shows some real flashes of talent: a wonderful set-piece featuring hundreds of blood-infected crows is a nice if unsubtle throwback to Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. Dr. Isaacs’ scenes are also reminiscent of Richard Liberty’s Dr. Logan from George A. Romero’s nihilistic classic Day of the Dead, as Isaacs attempts to ‘civilise’ the undead, much like Day’s memorable Bub. While these are nice touches, they are symptomatic of the lack of originality in the Resident Evil franchise.

Extinction is the best in the series, but still a long way off from even tickling it’s great zombie forefathers with its blood-stained tongue.

** ¾ / *****

“A small intestine away...”

Resident Evil: Apocalypse

(2004)

Dir: Alexander Witt

She still knows Kung Fu!

It’s like we never left. Carrying on where the first Resident Evil ended, Apocalypse brings the gamer, I mean viewer, out of the claustrophobic confines into the dark, suitably apocalyptic streets of Racoon City, where our heroes, both new and old, must fight for their very survival.

Sienna Guillory’s entrance as Jill Valentine is as ridiculous as it is sexy; she takes over from Michelle Rodriguez in the first film as the equally smokin’ companion to Mill Jovovich’s returning Alice, who finds herself once again faced by an overwhelming horde of undead, the virus having spread to the surface and the evil Umbrella Corporation having sealed everyone inside the city. Much like the first film, Alice, along with her allies, which once again include a bunch of very expendable commandos, must find a way out.

Also like Paul W.S. Anderson’s original, Alexander Witt’s sequel becomes horribly sidetracked by the addition of the ‘Nemesis Program’, basically a very sluggish looking ‘Terminator’ zombie that adds precisely nothing to the plot. The best scenes come with the zombies. One scene in particular, set in a school, sees an unfortunate character meet their end at the hands of dozens of ravenous undead children. Zombies? Check. Kiddies? Check. Creepy.

Apocalypse is a definite improvement, with Witt using the increased space to his advantage, much like with a video game setting. However, it is still the same format and struggles to escape its basic approach. Foreign? Twat. English. Uber twat. Poor Thomas Kretschmann and Iain Glen, who are forced to inhabit these villainous stereotypes.

It’s a worrying sign that the writers seem far more invested in the continuation of Alice’s rather bizarre story arc then the much more straightforward yet gripping account of the undead. Not good news for future instalments, although since this one improved on the first, surely that means there’s hope...

** ½ / *****

“Groaning in the right direction.”

Resident Evil

(2002)

Dir: Paul W.S. Anderson

As will probably become all too obvious to any button bashers who might stumble across this, I know virtually nothing about computer games, so I’m such there’s lots of things that have been missed Paul W. S. Anderson in his adaptation of Resident Evil from computer disc to the big screen. But is it that important?

I’ll be amazed if there’s a video game out there with a plot that couldn’t be improved by screenwriters, especially the gentleman who brought us one of the best Sci-Fi Horrors in recent memory, Event Horizon. But, in saying that, Resident Evil might as well have kept its joystick jarring plot for all the good of this new one.

Milla Jovovich’s Alice wakes up in the ominously named ‘Hive’. Fortunately for the narrative, Alice’s convenient amnesia allows for plenty of scenes with more informed characters explaining the plot with such intricacy that you have to remind yourself that you are watching a zombie movie. I don’t remember this kind of convolution when George A. Romero’s Dead were walking the earth.

Alice is joined by Eric Mabius, James Purefoy, and a team of armed commandos, led by Vasquez wannabe Michelle Rodriguez and the syrup voiced Colin Salmon. It’s standard, entertaining action zombie fodder, as these expendable characters battle their way up the many levels of The Hive to escape before the facility is destroyed. There are a few original set pieces thrown in with the usual zombie-centric ones, including a very nice Cube homage.

There’s nothing terribly wrong with Anderson’s flick; if you enjoy zombie films then this is an easy watch. However, the inclusion of the naff monster at the end is completely unnecessary. Zombies are scary enough; we don’t need a poorly animated, hairless chimpanzees slobbering all over the camera.

Entertaining slop, but nothing else.

** ¼ / *****

“Needs more brrrrrraaaaaaiiiiinnnnsssssss.”

 

Game versus film...

 

I know Kung Fu! Also French.

The original concept for the video game that this movie is based on was that you have a huge sprawling mansion that you have gone in as police officers to investigate. Whilst you are there conducting said investigation, you realise much to your chagrin that the house has a lot of zombies swaddling all over the place. Imagining what this could do to the property prices, your responsibility thereafter is to put down the walking un-dead for loitering on the premises.

The game has numerous things going for it. The truly great atmosphere is driven along by a minimalist soundtrack. The faintly echoing footsteps of the un-dead get louder as they come down the corridors of the mansion towards you. The hungry shuffling footsteps become a permanent sense of dread.

This is in stark contrast to the movie, which has virtually no atmosphere at all. The film over compensates and has entirely too much guitar riffling. Probably this was supposed to disguise the total lack of anything interesting taking place, the complete and utter abandonment of good set pieces and the overall reliance on action.

Speaking of action, the totally ridiculous scenes involving Alice have to be brought up at some point. Her stuff seems totally out of kilter in respect to the rest of the movie and especially seems out of place when you remember that once upon a time this was supposed to be a zombie movie.

The scene that Alice remembers her past life as a resident female ubermensch in the mansion above the dangerous Hive detracts so much out of the movie that after this point I feel almost totally withdrawn from it.

It’s like someone smuggled a Kung Fu action flick into the script and what makes this so riling is that the game was nothing like this at all. The game had you doing your utmost to avoid a confrontation with the un-dead. Fighting the zombies hand to hand, leaping off walls and kicking them in the side of the head never ever took place.

In the game your characters really have to fight just to stay alive. In the movie, I never felt that same sense of dread. Nor would I have cared if I had done.

I cared more about the characters in the video game. The immortal, ‘You were almost a Jill sandwich’. Or the most stupid line ever uttered, ‘I found this weapon. It’s really powerful, especially against living things.’

That the game can get away with such colossally bad dialogue and yet still feel more frightening, involving and exciting than the film is an excellent testament to its real qualities. Most tenable of these is that it’s far gorier than the movie, which had surprisingly little blood and guts, especially for a zombie movie.

When you failed in the game, your character wasn’t just killed in the normal sense. In the best Romero fashion, they then got eaten by the horde – the blood spurting up to hit the lens of the camera, where it would slowly slide down forming the words ‘you died’ when finally it had congealed together.

Nothing quite so horrible ever happens in the film. Hence lays the problem. It’s got no balls.

The dread is created by a silly ploy of having them race to get out of the Hive before they are trapped forever underground and if the zombies were frightening and horrific enough this wouldn’t be necessary of course.

The film is pretty terrible but actually in its particular genre it sits fairly highly. In respect to video game adaptations maybe it could be said to be the pick of the litter. The competition it faces from fellow video game adaptations is so lame that it can rest assured and sit securely on the top of the genre, looking down at lesser adaptations such as Silent Hill. Plus of course, the entire contribution that Boll has made to the genre.

Even in regards to the zombie genre, it sits somewhere in the middle. Not as good as the Romero classics or 28 Days/Weeks Later. Though better for example than Diary of the Dead and the remake of Day of the Dead.

 

Movie – **1/4 /*****

Game – ****/*****

Back to the Future

(1985)

Dir: Robert Zemeckis

If you were born any time from 1980 to 1990, you know the kind of films I’m talking about when I use the old cliché “films of your childhood.” E.T, Jurassic Park, Raiders of the Lost Ark and, for most normal people, Star Wars and Back to the Future.

There was obviously something wrong with the television in my house growing up. I have absolutely no memory of watching either of those films until I reached the ominous teenage status. My parents assured me that I saw them, which leads to me to the conclusion ... didn’t I like them then? Re-watching the Star Wars Trilogy, I’m not too concerned that I might have been apathetic as a sprog to Jedi’s and Ewok’s, but not liking Robert Zemeckis’ 1985 time travel adventure is frankly baffling.

Featuring one of the most entertaining and endearing double-acts in cinematic history in Michael J. Fox’s hip, hop ‘n’ happenin’ Marty McFly and Christopher Lloyd’s bonkers Doc Brown, it’s impossible not to fall in love with. When we talk about going back in time, we all say we’d do things like kill Hitler or punch Jesus, but what we’d all really like to see is what those mysterious figures we call ‘Mum and Dad’ were like before we arrived to ruin their lives. Back to the Future deals with this fantasy in a manner that’s smart, witty and cringe-worthy at the same time. Marty’s own mother (Lea Thompson) falling for him? That’s awkward. Crispin Glover too, is fantastic as George McFly, Marty’s hapless father, making the transition from adult to teenager and back again seem perfectly natural.

I only wish I could have got as much out of Back to the Future as a snuggler, so that I could place it alongside heavyweights like E.T. and Jurassic Park. But I can’t. Oh well. It’s still a testament to its enduring appeal that even watching today, I can still be dazzled, I can still be swept away and, best of all, I can feel like a child again.

**** ½ / *****

“Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

....

Consider time travel as a narrative device. More likely than not, said film playing out in front of you is really very dark and I would suggest probably not a comedy. This is because Back to the Future is a unique film.

The time travel sub-genre – if you want to call it that – is generally hung up on the negative. Back to the Future meanwhile is all about the positive.

Time travel stories have a unique ability to bend their narratives back around on themselves and as such there is a tendency for them to be very convoluted. This is a trap Back to the Future avoids falling into through a focus on one man’s life and nothing else.

The allure to go somewhere bombastic with your narrative – the very future of the Earth, the universe, or the planet Romulus – is an area that alas many wander into. The very intrigue of time travel is to be found I suspect in the less grandiose. The real appeal from a storyteller’s point of view is that any decision, no matter how insignificant, can render massive changes on the future timeline.

The truly original innovation in Back to the Future is that instead of having this reaction be instantaneous, it develops slowly and visibly on the photograph that Marty has of his family. The images on it gradually vanish as the future Marty is a part of becomes increasingly unlikely to ever occur.

The effect is that the biggest antagonist in the film is not Biff. It is the encroachment of time which is far more threatening.

The erosion of the future over the length of the movie gives it a palpable sense of tension, which could really be quite frightening if it were not for the right tone. Luckily though, the brilliant script is the key ingredient in getting this right. It’s not much of a surprise therefore that the film ranks amongst the most enduring classics of both the Science Fiction and Family genres.

****^1/4 /*****

The Town

(2010)

Dir: Ben Affleck

Bulletproof vans repel bullets. Ambulances? Not so much.

Ben Affleck is talented. Let’s not jump on a hate bandwagon just because he’s better looking than us. The guy can act, write and yes, the guy can direct. It’s such a shame that he put all of his talent into this tired story.

It’s a heist film. You know the drill. It focuses on a group of professional thieves, including Affleck’s Doug MacRay and the hottest talent in Hollywood Jeremy Renner as the unstable Jem Coughlin. Just like Michael Mann’s brilliant Heat and Kathryn Bigelow’s thrilling Point Break, the criminals are so testosterone fuelled that you almost expect any woman sitting watching to become pregnant.

Rebecca Hall’s addition as the unfortunate bank manager held hostage by Affleck’s masked crew is where the film’s narrative struggles. There’s nothing wrong with Hall’s performance. She is an excellent actress; it’s simply that the inclusion of her convenient romance with Affleck’s MacRay feels about as natural as Pete Postlethwaite’s awkward ‘Oirish tones.

It’s a real shame that the plot fails, as there’s much here deserving of praise. The cast is superb, which is to be expected with the likes of Affleck, Renner, and Hall, as well as the world’s coolest man, Mad Men’s Jon Hamm, as the pursuing FBI Agent, and, in a brief yet gripping cameo, the always excellent Chris Cooper.

The action scenes are brutally visceral. Very Heat. It’s good to note for his future career that Affleck knows how to handle set pieces. That’s how I view this film: a sign of things to come for a talented young director. Both this and the terrific Gone Baby Gone show a real understanding of storytelling within the working class American community. His dealings with the strife of criminal life are fascinating yet all too brief, but he at least tries.

Ultimately, The Town is disappointing and uninspiring as a standalone film. But as a sign of things to come for a blossoming director, I say it’s a film of real promise.

*** / *****

“One for the future.”

Another opinion…

Jeremy Renner is definitely the best thing in this movie. The character he plays is so apeshit crazy, that he’s more likely to punch you in the spine than give you a handshake.

The movie as a whole is very well constructed. The set pieces are impressive with real punch to them. The grittiness that permeates the movie has an air of authenticity about it. You can tell that Affleck has a real feel for the setting and the crime family that we are observing is by far the most interesting aspect of the movie.

I didn’t really buy the movie’s prelude. Why exactly do they take Claire hostage in the first place?

They shoehorn in the romance, which of course was the point, but then they never really come round to bringing up the significance of the initial bank robbing again. The FBI doesn’t break the case off the backs of their investigation into it.

The disintegration of the family’s relationship should have been the motor that drives the movie along. Specifically, the relationship between Doug played by Affleck, Jem played by Renner and Krista played by Lively. This would have made far more dramatic sense and the brief moments where this does arise, especially with Jem insinuating to Doug’s past relationship with Krista, are the most intriguing parts of the movie.

The relationship between Doug and Claire should really have been seen as redundant by comparison. Though instead the movie hinges on a poorly executed love triangle, which makes Krista’s behaviour just come across as totally loony. She sacrifices her entire family, including Doug who she reputedly is in love with, all because of a clichéd side plot that involves the FBI blackmailing her with loss of custody of her child.

And whilst we’re on the subject of loony behaviour – what the hell was that guy doing when he drives the ambulance out into a fully assembled mass of FBI? What did he think the ambulance suddenly had bullet proof windows?

I would have far preferred a film about the lack of responsibility that Doug clearly shows throughout the movie towards raising Krista’s child. The child’s paternity does after all remain completely ambiguous. Though alas no, instead what we get is a film about what happens when one member of a criminal fraternity decides to leave ‘the family’ and ‘the town’ behind. That makes for a far more dramatic sound bite. I just can’t help but look at this movie as a missed opportunity. It’s a very competent piece of work. Still, I feel with a bit of light tweaking to the plot of the movie, Affleck could have turned out something altogether tastier.

**_3/4 /*****

“You can count that the FBI has at least one mad man for the job.”

The Other Guys

(2010)

Dir: Adam McKay

You either love Will Ferrell or you hate him. That seems to be the way things have gone for the former Saturday Night Live funny man. Does he play essentially the same outlandish characters? You bet. Here’s the million dollar question: are these characters actually funny? Well, I’d have to say yes.

Call me an idiot; call me childish, I don’t really care. I can appreciate all brands of comedy, from the sophisticated to the silly - although Scary Movie is pushing it. Ferrell just tickles my boyish funny bone, and in The Other Guys, Adam McKay’s take on a buddy cop flick, he does it again.

Ferrell’s leading performances are often defined by his co-star. In Anchorman he has a Christina Applegate, in Talladega Nights he has John C. Reilly, and in Blades of Glory he has John Heder. Just like these others, in The Other Guys Mark Wahlberg is playing the straight man. His sensible act bounces off Ferrell’s eccentricities. Anyone familiar with Marky Mark’s work, from Boogie Nights to The Departed, knows he can do a damn good job of playing it straight and making it amusing at the same time. His exasperated Detective Terry Holtz is where most of the films humour lies, with his reactions mirroring our own to the bizarreness of Ferrell’s Detective Allen Gamble.

The plot is nonsense. Absolute nonsense. I have no idea what Steve Coogan’s slimy business Brit was supposedly up to, but it seemed to involve stealing money from the Lottery, so make of that what you will. It really is complete tosh.

Thankfully, the film is all about Ferrell and Wahlberg, and their chemistry is good enough to carry The Other Guys to a satisfactory conclusion. Also, I’m unlikely to complain too much about a film with Eva Mendes in it. Goddamn.

*** / *****

“Will stays classy, San Diego.”

Death at a Funeral

(2010)

Dir: Neil LaBute

Such a shame. For a film jam-packed to the gills with talent, and that starts out so well, it’s disappointing that Neil LaBute’s Death at a Funeral, an American remake of the British comedy of the same name, ultimately descends into the same old tired Hollywood mess.

LaBute’s track record isn’t glowing when it comes to re-making pictures from this side of the Atlantic. See Nicolas Cage screaming his way through 2007’s The Wicker Man as evidence. Killing me won't bring back your goddamn honey! But Death at a Funeral has potential, with an initially quick, witty script. It helps that it has comic heavyweights such as Martin Lawrence and Chris Rock delivering these zingers, which makes it even more grating that LaBute’s film turns into a bad Carry On flick. One silly, slapstick-based angle is enough. James Marsden’s drugged Oscar is that. But the addition of the gay midget (seriously?) and the incontinent Danny Glover are overkill.

 

Gay midgets? Really?

 

Rock, as usual, is the best thing here. As Aaron, the eldest son of the deceased whose funeral it is, his repartee with his successful, Lothario brother Ryan (Lawrence) is where the real humour lies. It doesn’t need the farcical padding. Rock was recently heralded by Time magazine as the funniest man in the world. So why on earth is he not in this film doing more what makes him so funny, talking? That’s what we want from a Chris Rock film. More of him, less of everyone else. His discussion with the hapless funeral directors which opens the film is the wittiest moment of the entire thing. It’s reminiscent of some of his hilarious social commentaries that he has become famous for through his cutting-edge stand-up. But it’s all downhill from there.

Death at a Funeral is a huge disappointment. I just hope everyone involved, especially Rock, can move on and leave this dud in the coffin where it belongs.

** / *****

Black Sheep

(2007)

Dir: Jonathan King

A stampede of carnivorous sheep, crest a hill and rip into an assembled group of farmers. This to me is the most enduring image to be taken from this film. It’s a visually impressive feast, because the Weta Workshop provides the special effects. Though what makes it so impressive – is the poetic irony.

Hundreds of sheep gorge themselves on the blood of farmers. That’s a perfect visual metaphor for a completely unexpected reversal in the status quo.

Only Holy Grail comes close to it. The two films subvert the expected behaviour of fluffy, white, docile creatures for comedic effect.

In Holy Grail it is for a single joke. In Black Sheep it is for the whole movie. That the joke does generally hold out is a credit to the director and the script.

The humour of the film is a blend of the puerile and the ironic. Lots of references are made to sheep shagging, which thankfully remain implicit. The two environmentalists at the start of the film are in fact the ones to unleash the ecological disaster that causes the rabid transformation of the sheep. The infection – for want of a better word – spreads to one such environmentalist early on, a vegetarian, which makes for a darkly humorous twist. The blame for how the infection is spread is repeatedly attributed in several ways. The genetic laboratory is the source of the infection. Angus who owns the farm is responsible due to his dream of creating a sort of uber-sheep. Then you have the environmentalists who despite having moral intentions nevertheless cause the outbreak in the first place.

The film obviously draws parallels, because of its Kiwi flavour of humour, to another New Zealand horror/comedy – the excellent Braindead but Black Sheep also takes inspiration from the more recent horror/comedies, films like Slither and Shaun of the Dead. This is not a bad thing. It just means, like those films, that the film succeeds through comedy rather than horror.

***1/2 /*****

The Wolfman

(2010)

Dir: Joe Johnston

It’s almost impossible to get people to agree on what exactly a werewolf should look like. It’s not supposed to look like a wolf, it’s not supposed to look like a man, and it certainly isn’t supposed to look like a baboon. Joe Johnston’s remake of the 1941 horror classic of the same name struggles with these same issues.

His name is in the title. We pay to see The Wolfman, and we want to be damn impressed when we do. Sadly, Benicio Del Toro’s wolf is hit and miss, despite having the creative makeup genius of Rick Baker. It isn’t a dog’s dinner in the same vain as Van Helsing, but it just isn’t quite ferocious or canine enough to satisfy.

That doesn’t mean that Johnston’s flick isn’t entertaining. It certainly is. The body count is right up in the Rambo Part II camp, with Del Toro’s lycanthropic actor Lawrence Talbot cutting a bloody swathe across Blackmoor and London. The blood and guts on display fully earns The Wolfman its ‘15’ certificate, although none of the violence is particularly terrifying or gruesome, but rather tinged with gloomy comedy. The majority of the victims are portrayed as either pompous academics or superstitious fools.

Del Toro does a good job filling Lou Chaney, Jr.’s furry shoes. In fact the whole cast deserves merit. Anthony Hopkins and Hugo Weaving are especially engrossing as Sir John Talbot and Inspector Aberline respectively, bringing some old school acting gravitas to this traditional Gothic yarn. Weaving’s interaction with a superstitious local barmaid in a Blackmoor inn is a particular delight.

It could have been better. But then we are comparing all subsequent werewolf films to John Landis’ unbeatable An American Werewolf in London, so that’s to be expected. Johnston’s picture still has plenty to, uh, sink your teeth into? Sorry. I couldn’t resist.

** ¾ / *****

“Nothing to howl about.”

Kung Fu Panda

(2008)

Dir: John Stevenson & Mark Osborne

I’m ashamed that it took me so long to work out who was doing Master Shifu’s voice. It annoyed me throughout, which automatically earned DreamWorks’ latest animation a second viewing with peace of mind this time. And you know what? It’s just as good second time around. In fact, it might even be better.

Kung Fu Panda is such a pleasant surprise and I don’t even know why. I like kung fu. I like pandas. Something obviously went wrong in my head for me not to be excited about the prospect of Mark Osborne and John Stevenson’s hilarious and spectacular picture. It does exactly what cinema is supposed to do: it entertains. It slaps you so hard in the noodle that I struggled to stop laughing throughout. But that’s not all. Like the best animations (Shrek, anything by Pixar), Kung Fu Panda doesn’t only work on a comedic level. It is visually dazzling too. The fight scene between the Furious Five and the dastardly Tai Lung is a breathtaking visual feat that would make even the Wachowski Brothers blush.

The voice cast is excellent, although talents such as Angelina Jolie, Jackie Chan and Lucy Liu are wasted in their respective roles of Tigress, Monkey and Viper. Jack Black is having a whale of a time as the titular panda Po, the individual chosen by Randall Duk Kim’s Master Oogway to bear the fabled Dragon Scroll and defeat Tai Lung (a deliciously sinister Ian McShane). Dustin Hoffman is the standout as Shifu, but fans of Arrested Development will thoroughly enjoy David Cross’ portrayal of Crane, whilst Michael Clarke Duncan and James Hong also shine as Tai Lung’s stubborn rhinoceros prison guard and Po’s hilarious goose father respectively.

It doesn’t need it, but I can’t say I’m disappointed that a sequel is looming on the horizon. I just hope it can live up to this bamboorific success.

**** / *****

“I love kung fuuuuuuu!”

Red

(2010)

Dir: Robert Scwentke

It’s amazing. Sylvester Stallone’s bombastic The Expendables is actually less sinister than Robert Schwentke’s light-hearted action caper about another group of geriatric super assassins. This is mainly down to the relationship between Bruce Willis’ typically monosyllabic Frank Moses and his girlfriend cum hostage cum therapist cum pension distributor Mary-Louise Parker. The actors might not be that different in age, but boy do they look it on screen. Their burgeoning romance just comes across as, well, creepy.

It starts off amusingly enough, as Moses is kidnaps this woman in order to save her from assassins. It soon gets rather icky. Icky in the ‘Dad ogling your sister’s friends’ kind of way. Even Stallone resists romance with a younger, nubile babe in The Expendables. Oh Bruce, you horny old dog.

The Expendables is actually quite a good comparison for Red. Two more films about betrayed mercenaries to toss onto the roaring infernos of 2010 along with The Losers and The A-Team. Red, with a cast including heavyweights such as Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich, Brian Cox and Helen Mirren, has the potential to trump them all, but fails to do so. It’s mostly a Bruce Willis rom-com, with Morgan Freemen popping up to die every now and then. Seriously, that’s all he does. Several times. At least Malkovich and Mirren provide some fun, although Brian Cox’s stereotypical, vodka-swilling Russian spy is a little too much.

It’s not a terrible film by any means, and it does have its fun elements. Karl Urban’s villainous Agent Cooper gets a wonderfully chilling introduction and has tremendous antagonistic potential, but is ultimately wasted in favour of a frankly baffling plot involving the Vice-President. Like its leads’ knees, Red creeks and groans its way along, before finally leaving you in satisfied doze.

** ½ / *****

“One foot in the grave.”

Terminator Salvation

(2009)

Dir: McG

 

How could a series that started out with two of the greatest films ever made turn into the love child of Transformers and Mad Max?

It almost feels redundant recapping the plot, but because I’m such a nice chap, I’ll do it anyway.

It’s the future. It’s Man versus Machine. There we go; now that’s out of the way...

I’m not going to blame the film entirely on McG, although I simply do not trust a man with that name. It’s not like James Cameron would have done much better had he directed it. The machines would probably have been blue though. Sam Worthington would have popped up too. Why do people keep casting him? He has about as much charisma as a pencil. He makes Keanu Reeves look like Christopher Walken.

But all joking aside, Worthington, as Marcus Wright, the man with the mysterious past who wakes up amidst the metallic apocalypse, is a sleepwalking lead. The bonkers Christian Bale is wasted as John Connor. Every time Worthington is on screen in one of the many ridiculous scenes he shares with Moon Bloodgood, I am just counting the minutes until Bale can yell in our faces some more. At least one of the new, young additions is worthwhile, with Anton Yelchin doing a smashing job as the teenage Kyle Reese. Also, kudos for Michael Ironside being in a film ... with TWO arms!

Unfortunately, you can stop watching this film series after the dark masterpiece that was The Terminator and the thrilling juggernaut of T2. Watch T3 only for the smokin’ Kristanna Loken and Salvation, sadly, only for the barmy Bale.

I remember having nightmares about Arnold Schwarzenegger the first time I saw The Terminator. Well, I’ll be having them again after watching Terminator Salvation, but for an entirely different reason...

** / *****

 

**********************************

 

As has already been written, Terminator started off awesome. It presented a bleak vision of the future. The kind of vision that had persisted in the mind of Harlan Ellison was suddenly unleashed on an unwitting movie going public. The unique combination of time travel, robots and evil computers – all staples of pre-existing Science-Fiction – were brought together and thus they made a beautiful baby.

The story of the machine wars is what Terminator Salvation is all about. In my opinion perhaps the most gripping scene in the whole of The Terminator is specifically about that war and so I was quite looking forward to seeing a whole film based around it.

The flashback which plays through Kyle’s mind in The Terminator was how I hoped this film would turn out. Perhaps it’s just McG who can’t cut the mustard then.

Though putting it bluntly, I think the future war with the machines should always have remained alluded to. The bleakness of those scenes resides in the perpetuation of continuous death. Every time Kyle thinks back to his past and our future, there is a constant reminder of the omnipresent Skynet.

Its crusade to eradicate mankind is far more powerful when it remains a shadowy villain, devoid of voice and present only in its machinations. The extents of these are way more devious than any villain in film or literature. The damn thing decides the only way to resolve the issue of mankind is to devise time travel technology all for the purpose of then sending back a nigh on unstoppable assassin to kill the future leader of the mysterious resistance. That’s great storytelling.

The Skynet that exists in Terminator Salvation has none of this ruthless calculation. Its plan seems to consist of the following (spoiler).

Luring John Connor into its very heart; its most vulnerable position and then dispatching one very naked Arnold Schwarzenegger with no fucking gun to hurl him around like a rag doll. Instantly the memory of the incredible villainous computer from the previous films – not so much T3 – is gone like a puff of wind. The thing is just plain dumb. Perhaps it used up its entire RAM after it developed time travel technology.

 

“I’ll be back. Well, not really.”

 

The film falters on its focus on the war because this means it loses the time travel aspect and all we are left with is robots and evil computers, which has been done much better in films like The Matrix.

The future looked considerably more interesting in the first film and the sugary pop, Charlie’s Angels director can’t live up to that.

** ¾ / *****

Avatar

(2009)

Dir: James Cameron

 

 

What the hell Cameron? You used to be so good. A soldier sets out as part of an expedition for unobtanium. What the fuck is that? It’s really astonishing to think how far you have fallen. You used to be right up there. You were part of the pantheon of Science Fiction greats. This tale of evil industrialists trying to bulldoze the hell out of a big blue planet and its big blue inhabitants is beneath you. The most astonishing revelation I had when watching this was just how unsubtle it really is. The characters are paper thin caricatures. Industrialists are bad. Blue toned natives are good. That’s the best you can do?

A lot can be forgiven in a film – even if it is derivative and shallow – if it manages to entertain you. I know I was entertained for about ten minutes. It’s over long. The special effects, while impressive, aren’t mind blowing. The 3D is annoying and actually off putting. In regards to the subtitles, which popped out of the screen making it hard to keep your focus on them, I got especially pissed off. The film to me is not much of a leap forward for special effects or even just in technical terms – Jurassic Park, Toy Story, The Matrix, Gladiator oh yes Cameron’s T2 – they were leaps forward. Not this. It was demonstratively one big showcase for 3D technology, done in a way that ironically was rather one-dimensional.

 

Sick of it yet?

 

Since then 3D has started to dominate the big screen and even the small screen too. That is this film’s lasting legacy. The technology it has introduced hopefully will allow other filmmakers to put it to some better use. The film itself is really just ‘shrug’. It’s not terrible. It’s just plain average.

** ½ / *****

 

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There’s not a lot of praise that can heaped on James Cameron’s Sci-Fi marathon. It does have merit-worthy attributes, but it’s just so hard to focus on these considering the man behind this film. The Terminator, Aliens, T2, True Lies, make no mistake about it, those films alone qualify Cameron as a true great; stories sizzling with sparkling originality and engaging dialogue. We all thought that the mind-numbingly long The Abyss was a blip on his otherwise untarnished record (hey, I like Piranha II okay?) but it appears that it was actually one big wet omen. Big, loud, dumb, blue and expensive. I’m not talking about Didier Drogba, but the kind of films Cameron is now making.

Both Titanic and Avatar have made a shed load of dosh and are sitting pretty as the two highest grossing films of all time. At least, unlike Titanic, Cameron does manage to fill Avatar with some entertainment. Stephan Lang’s Colonel Quaritch chews his way through the 3D jungle scenery with ridiculous aplomb, a stark contrast to Sam Worthington’s charisma vacuum. Why do people keep casting him? He looks utterly at sea next to Sigourney Weaver and Zoe Saldana.

But this film is all about the 3D. That’s how it marketed itself. There were no great claims made about the plot or the dialogue, so were we wrong to be surprised when ‘Dance With Smurfs’ appeared? Cameron insisted for years that he was making “the future”. The visual future. And he has done that. Since Avatar’s release we have seen 3D film’s take over, with the likes of Alice in Wonderland and Toy Story 3 following in big daddy’s blue footsteps, rocketing up the all-time box office list. But will it last? Everyone knows Avatar looks ‘nice’, but game changing? The success of 3D is down to one thing: cost. It is cost, not quality which has helped these films to conquer the box office, but the bubble is set to burst. As much as Cameron might say otherwise, this won’t last.

** ¾ / *****

“In this film, there are blue people. Furthermore, there is a man in a giant robot who tries to kill a magical tree.”

The Expendables

(2010)

Dir: Sylvester Stallone

WOO, FUCK YEAH!

Listen up, bitches. It’s Friday fucking night. You’ve had a long, hard day fixin’ motors and pumpin’ iron in the gym. Gotta’ get those guns as big as possible right? YEAH! So whaddya’ do in the evenin’? You know when you go home at night you’re gonna have that fine ass bitch of a girlfriend just waitin’ for you to rock her world. She’s gonna have some shepherd’s pie! WOO! Some beers! WOO! But before all that, drive you big fucking car or even bigger fucking motorbike, rev that engine so loud that bitches bra blows straight off, and get yourself down to the cinema to see Sylvester fucking Stallone, Jason fucking Statham, Mickey fucking Rourke, Bruce fucking Willis, Arnold fucking Schwarzenegger, Jet fucking Li and more guys with big arms and even bigger guns. They’re beating the shit out of foreigners and bastards in suits who try to steal governments. Fuck yeah!

These geezers are so fucking ‘ard they play knife throwin’ games with each other for fun! They’re so ‘ard they beat the piss out of woman beatin’ pricks who mess with their property A.K.A potential girlfriend! And they are so Goddamn fucking bad ass that they even take on the WWE’s own ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin!

Goddamn, I feel like I’ve just had a steroid injection directly into my brain. I need to shag some bitches, leave, beat up some pussies, and then blow some shit up. I have no emotions other than RAAAAAAGE! Feelings? What the fuck are they? Somethin’ that bitches have. Goddamn, woman, you need to be in the kitchen makin’ my shepherd’s pie!

Yeah, that’s what you call a Friday night. Anyone ‘oo isn’t ‘ard ain’t welcome though. “Ooh look at all the blood.” Pussy.

** / *****

Scott Pilgrim Vs The World

(2010)

Dir: Edgar Wright

The answer to why you should always look behind you.

 

Confession time; my knowledge of video games is limited to playing Super Mario on the SNES with my sister when I was 8, Solid Snake, and the money-grabbing FIFA franchise. I ‘got’ about two references in Edgar Wright’s film, and one of those was to the stupendously brilliant sitcom Seinfeld. It also didn’t help that I was watching the film with the world’s biggest computer game nerd. For the first time in my life I felt like a loser for not knowing anything about video games. Oh the irony. I was utterly lost. But I was also utterly dazzled.

That’s the thing, the constant game references are just one part of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Sure it’s geeky; sure it’s marketed at a very niche audience, but so what? Edgar Wright has created a truly unique vision of youthful melodrama, so vibrant and colourful, with a script so witty and inventive, that it’s impossible not to fall in love with.

The cast are absolutely superb. Michael Cera is as charmingly hapless as ever as Scott and Mary Elizabeth Winstead is suitably sexy and kooky as the desirable Ramona Flowers. But it’s the cameos that really bring Wright’s feature to life. Each deadly ex-boyfriend which Scott must overcome to win Ramona’s heart brings something new. Chris Evans and Brandon Routh look like they’re having a blast, with Evans doing his best Christian Bale as the obnoxious Lucas Lee, while Routh, looking like he just fell out of Japanese Anime, shares some of the most hilarious exchanges with Scott.

A work of real energy, the only thing I can compare it to is 2010’S other comic book adaptation of teen trials, Kick Ass. Both are an injection of real originality into two stale genres. While I still think Matthew Vaughan’s ultra-violent flick has the edge, Scott Pilgrim deserves recognition as one of the best films of 2010, and something original in the creaking world of cinema.

*** ¾ / *****

 

Time for an educated opinion...

 

Since directing the TV show Spaced, Edgar Wright has always populated his movies with little references to the nerdy side of life and the comic book series of Scott Pilgrim, which is suitably heaving under the weight of all those game references, makes Edgar Wright the perfect guy to direct this.

The prejudice that we feel running throughout all levels of society towards those people who play computer games is of course completely unfounded and terribly unfair. So it’s with great relief that we have finally got a film which runs the unpopularity gauntlet by sticking its flag firmly on the other side of the river, away from the cultural mainstream.

If you don’t get the game references, don’t worry. The entertainment is not derived from picking up on those things. They are really just the icing on the cake. Scott Pilgrim manages to be entertaining with its moments of cartoon violence, doses of surreal humour and kung fu fight scenes. The execution of all these is especially fresh, which makes for a totally unique viewing experience. The resultant cornucopia of unusual genres has only one close relative – not Kick Ass but Kung Fu Hustle.

The game references might seem excessive but they never break you out of the picture, nor diminish your enjoyment of it. The story continues along its path to a conclusion I actually cared about. The appearance of the Nega Scott near to the end is a great reference to Link’s battle with his dark alter ego in The Ocarina of Time.

This use of suddenly knocking the story along a completely tangential path is a technique that has been borrowed by virtually all modern comedy. The persistence of it in Scott Pilgrim does however make perfect sense. Scott is experiencing life through the 16bit sounds and pictures of his childhood. The film starts out relatively sane and quite rapidly becomes a kaleidoscope of images that could be taken out of any video game, or indeed out of any comic book. The way Scott’s rivals explode into a vibrant cascade of gold coins makes sense in the world that this film does such an excellent job of setting up. Thus the moments of tangential comedy do not detract from the flow of the main story. The merits of this film lie not in its reverence for the geeky side of things. The film succeeds with the strength of its story, its originality and in its near perfect blending of genres.

**** ¼ / *****

Perpetually startled prepubescent man-child tries to woo a girl with multi-coloured hair. Plot complexity Rating – 0. Overall Awesomeness Rating – 10.