Thor

This is not a review. Just opinions & mild spoilers.

 

Oh, Thor. I’ve never read the comic. I know nothing about it. So I’m not in a position to judge it from any sort of preconceived knowledge of the source material.

That being said when your protagonist is the god of war, a bloke who is all about hurling his massive hammer around the place and smashing shit up, casting lighting on suckas and frying their asses, I think it’s a pretty fair bet that you wouldn’t expect his motion picture story to be set mostly on Earth and what’s more to find him powerless for most of that time.

If like me you had no idea what to expect from this film, you may be a little taken aback by what is essentially a story where you get Thor whining like an oversized baby who’s had his favourite rattle taken away from him. Or hammer. Whatever.

I mean maybe I’m just missing the point here. Like I said I’ve never read the comics so that’s entirely possible. But the film at least keeps reiterating that the gods we are seeing are the same as inhabit the world of Norse mythology. So Thor shouldn’t be acting like a whinging great nancy boy. And this becomes all very confusing indeed when you ponder the character of Loki in this film.

In the film, it is explained that the gods fought the Ice Giants on Earth. That they know all about Earth and have done for centuries. That they’ve left a fundamental legacy on Earth’s culture. In a patronising scene all of this is explained to us.

So then, if the world of Thor can be regarded as a continuation of the stories told in Norse mythology, why is it that everyone trusts Loki in this film?

Logically it ought to be first on the agenda to question Loki whenever anything strange is happening in Asgard. Case in point when someone has let Ice Giants into Asgard who should be questioned first but Loki? I mean it’d be a pretty short list of suspects anyway. I guess Asgardians must just have really short memories.

Thor

 
2011

Dir; Kenneth Branagh
 
Marvel Comics have produced some real stinkers over the years. Some real, Grade Z quality, scrape out the bottom of the fridge and don’t even bother feeding it to your dog stinkers. Elektra, Daredevil, Ghost Rider, Blade Trinity, X-Men Origins: Wolverine; comic book movies with virtually no redeeming qualities that do nothing but belittle a genre that receives enough negativity as it is. Why, exactly, is another question. And I must admit, not being a comic book reader myself, when first told of the premise of Marvel’s latest cinematic outing, I was sure we had another super powered dud on our hands. Take a deep breath now … I was wrong. I’ll lay the plot out before you and I’m sure you’ll agree that, on paper, it looks more wooden than Blackbeard’s leg and camper than Graham Norton.

Thor is a god loosely based upon the Norse deity of the same name. He lives in Asgard, a nation previously at war with the Frost Giants of Jotunheim, but now in the midst of an uneasy peace. However, Thor, young and headstrong, falls victim to the manipulating whisperings of his sly brother, Loki, and disobeys their father, Odin, by attacking the Frost Giants, thus destroying the peace and reigniting the war. As punishment, Odin strips Thor of Mjolnir, the mighty hammer from which he takes his power, and banishes him to Earth. It is there that Thor meets Jane Foster and her team of scientists, and must find a way back to prevent his treacherous brother from rising to power.

Good eh? If that doesn’t sound camp and clichéd then I don’t know what does.
The film I feared most would be recreated here was Flash Gordon. Yes, we can all look back fondly and laugh now at the cheesetastic 1980 comic strip adaptation from Mike Hodges, but let’s face it, it was pretty bloody awful. And Thor might have the ridiculous costumes, the outlandish hair and the, at times, archaic dialogue, but here’s the thing, it knows it.

Director Kenneth Branagh may have been one of the strangest choices of all time to direct a comic book film, and I was certainly taken aback by the announcement, but what a fine job he’s done. A Shakespearean at heart, Branagh has recognised the hilarity of his characters and injected a real sense of fun and humour into his picture. Chris Hemsworth is absolutely splendid as the bombastic and completely over the top titular hero, both when swaggering around like Superman on speed in the dark, almost Mordor-like Jotunheim, beating the tar out of flimsy Frost Giants, and when trapped as a mortal on Earth alongside Natalie Portman’s conveniently placed and conveniently sexy scientist, still speaking as though he were an extra from Lord of the Rings for some truly hilarious scenes. Both Anthony Hopkins and Tom Hiddleston are similarly well cast as Odin and Loki respectively. Ol’ Dr. Lecter never looks embarrassed to be appearing in a film such as this despite his much more ‘actorly’ traits, providing, much like he did in the essentially crap The Wolfman recently, some real energy and gravitas to his patriarchal role. Hiddleston is quite surprising though. A relative unknown cinematically, he takes a rather creaky villain - Jealousy? Really? - and drips enough malice and poison into every line to remind you that it is Iago directing this film after all, and the villain better damn well be Machiavellian. As a comic book villain he has some stiff competition; but he’s much closer to General Zod than Ming the Merciless. Of course, there is plenty of deadwood. Portman is utterly wasted in her role as the random bit of arse paraded about before Thor, and could Stellan Skarsgård be any more convenient as the Scandanavian scientist who finds Thor in the desert and has a vast knowledge of Nordic mythology? He should really take lessons from Hopkins on how not to look embarrassed; he was in TWO Pirates of the Caribbean films after all.

Visually speaking, Thor is quite the challenge. Asgard is too much. I’ll be blunt about that. Creating the world entirely out of CGI as they have has resulted in a very bright city that really belongs in a Final Fantasy video game. Jotunheim is much more impressive; rocky and brooding, aided by the dark lighting, a very wise choice on cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos’ front. What works is the way these grand, fantastical worlds are contrasted against Thor’s Earthly adventures, which take place entirely in a very unfantastic town in the middle of New Mexico. It is here that the biggest similarity to another superhero flick rears its head, as this setting is almost identical to the unfortunate East Houston town that first experiences the wrath of General Zod and his friends in Richard Lester’s Superman II. The action sequence where Thor battles the Destroyer (some kind of metallic Wicker Man dispatched by Loki) in particular evokes memories of the Man of Steel, and that is never a bad thing.

Another concern surrounding this film was, with the announcement of Thor’s involvement in the upcoming Avengers superhero epic - which will unite a plethora of Marvel heroes and villains - that Thor would become nothing but an extended trailer for Joss Whedon’s spandex-clad ensemble, a problem felt recently by Iron Man 2. But this simply isn’t the case. Admittedly Clark Gregg does get a much extended role as S.H.I.E.L.D agent Phil Coulson, but, unlike Samuel L. Jackson, he fits the bill of a shady ‘Man In Black’ and does not detract from the overall plot. After all, why wouldn’t shadowy government organisation show up when a giant hammer crashes down from the sky? Considering the huge role both Thor and Loki are obviously going to have in The Avengers, it is pleasing that they were allowed to do their own thing first, with even Jeremy Renner’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo as super marksman Clint Barton working as little more than a salivating taster to wet your geeky appetite for the film that could make-or-break comic book flicks.

A comic book film that understands its flaws, that understands its hilarity, and yet doesn’t feel the need to sprinkle our eyes with childish nonsense like the Fantastic Four films. At times a dark and brooding Machiavellian tale of the bitter jealousy between brothers, and at others your standard, amusing ‘Fish out of water’ romp. I think the gods must have had a hand in this one.

*** ½ / *****

Buckingham Palace is getting a bit over the top.

Hanna

2011
Dir: Joe Wright
 

Leon, Kick-Ass, Kill Bill, Serenity, and even Buffy the Vampire Slayer; we certainly do like our heroes young, deadly and … female. From English director Joe Wright, Hanna is a continuation of this esteemed lineage of bad-ass teen vixens. Is there some kind of perverse curiosity behind these portrayals of young girls? Or is it, as Joss Whedon stated when discussing the creation of the now household name Buffy Summers, a kind of feminist empowerment? Gone are the days of the screaming, big-breasted, ditzy blonde running away from the cock-wielding killer, replaced instead by girls still sweet and innocent at a first glance, but ready to rip your balls off at the drop of a hat.

Hanna follows the escapades of the titular hero, a sixteen-year-old girl raised in the woods of Finland by her father. But her education does not walk the same path as ours. There is no Biff, Chip and Kipper stories; there are no school sports days. Oh no. Hanna is trained from birth to be a living, breathing weapon. She is taught how to fight, how to speak any number of languages, and, most importantly of all, how to survive alone when the day comes. And come that day does, when sinister agent Marissa Wiegler becomes aware of the girl’s presence and sets off to hunt her down.

The opening of Hanna is wonderful. Very similar to The Hughes Brothers’ latest offering, The Book of Eli, we are greeted by the sight of an anonymous hunter crouching in the woods, stalking their prey. This time, instead of the post-apocalyptic setting, we have the crisp, beautiful white wilderness of the Finnish forest, as Hanna is introduced. For a director whose craft has thus far been in literary adaptations of such novels as Pride and Prejudice and Atonement, you might be surprised by this visual prowess from Joe Wright. But if you look back at his past films, despite their heavy reliance on acting, he displays some real flair for the eye, such as Atonement’s Dunkirk beach scene. It is a treat to watch such a young director experimenting with the camera as much as Wright does in Hanna. You can tell that he is having a blast in his first original adventure, from the old school, blood-spattered title to Hanna’s seizure-inducing escape sequence from Wielgler’s underground base, complete with strobe lighting and a pounding Chemical Brothers soundtrack that really gets your heart banging against your ribcage. It’s frenetic action right out of the Bourne playbook.

This might be the most interesting take on a fairy tale you will ever see. From the young girl setting off into the dark forests of the world alone for the very first time, to the wicked witch pursuing her, this is simple, classic storytelling with a devilish twist. Wright knows it too. The film is all too aware of it fairy tale qualities, referencing them throughout, with the ending, as Cate Blanchett’s villainess stalks our hero out of a rather unsubtle wolf’s head, a particular nod to the works of Grimm.

All of this might be an excuse for the characterization to go undeveloped, but this is far from the case. As Hanna, Saorise Ronan is a captivating screen presence, and about the most likeable assassin you are ever likely to see. There is none of the street smart, foul-mouthed, wise cracking of Leon’s Mathilda or Kick-Ass’ Hit-Girl, Hanna is much more reminiscent of Summer Glau’s River from Joss Whedon’s Science Fiction adventure Serenity; calm and innocent until the moment she strikes. There is a genuine look of innocence in her eyes as she experiences the world for the first time, which makes it hard to root against her.

And I almost do want to root against her, because the people hunting her are so bloody entertaining. Cate Blanchett’s Marissa Wiegler and Tom Hollander’s tracksuit-clad Isaacs are not developed anywhere near the same level as our fleeing femme, but they are given enough quirky traits, and inject their characters with so much malicious delight that they almost steal the show. Blanchett is clearly having a ball playing an unusual role for her, overloading her Texan drawl to the point where it becomes comical and brushing her pearly white teeth into oblivion. Hollander, meanwhile, fresh off being utterly wasted in the Pirates of the Caribbean series, whistles his way through his every scene like a male Elle Driver.

Obviously there are some mishaps, with Eric Bana left rather wasted as Hanna’s mysterious father, whilst the English family that she gets stuck with on her travels might win the award for some of the most nauseatingly irritating figures in recent cinematic history. They are just bloody awful. But even they cannot detract from an otherwise superb film.

Hanna is an entertaining, exhilarating, often touching, and regularly amusing picture from a director who should let loose and try his hand at projects like this more often. What’s that? His next film is an adaptation of Anna Karenina? In the words of Gob Bluth, “Oh come on!”

**** / *****

Kick-Ass

2010

Dir: Matthew Vaughan
 
A sweet, innocent little girl wanders into a hotel lobby area, as the ominous sounds of Ennio Morricone rumble away in the background. In the next few seconds, this tiny angel butchers each and every other person in the reception area, shooting them all to death without disturbing her perfect pigtails. Hold on a second, is this a Quentin Tarantino film!?

Kick-Ass is certainly not a Tarantino film. It is very much a Matthew Vaughan picture, although it doesn’t share many similarities with his earlier flicks. The film poses the question of why exactly no one has ever tried to become a superhero in real life. Everyday teenager Dave Lizewski decides to give it a go, becoming the titular Kick-Ass and an overnight internet sensation. In his new crime fighting role, Dave encounters fellow superheroes, the father and daughter duo of Big Daddy and Hit-Girl, with whom he forms an uneasy alliance. However, his new life also leads Dave into an inevitable confrontation with local crime boss, Frank D’Amico, the target of Big Daddy’s war on crime, and a man who doesn’t take too kindly those of the masked persuasion.

The Tarantino reference is an accurate one. Throughout Vaughan’s picture, the only film I could think of was Kill Bill. There are certainly no other comic book movies like it. It is too edgy, witty, sharp and violent to be comparable to the likes of Superman, Spiderman, X-Men, or even the more adult Batman films. With its ridiculously brightly costumed heroes, easily identifiable villains, obsession with teen killers, and wave upon wave of the crimson tide, Tarantino’s Samurai cum Western revenge flick is its closest cousin. Like Kill Bill, Kick-Ass creates the aura of a film simply not taking itself seriously. Whilst people might dispute this about Tarantino, it can’t be argued that Kill Bill has the look of a director simply cutting loose, and the same can be said about Kick-Ass. It is a tremendously entertaining film.

The main thing separating it from other, more traditional superhero fodder is its use of comedy. This isn’t the cheesy, naff, childish stuff we’ve seen in Fantastic Four for example, the characters in Kick-Ass, from the villains to the extras, are genuinely hilarious. The obvious comedic standouts are the central duo of Aaron Johnson as Dave, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse as the bumbling son of Frank D’Amico, Chris. The two youngsters are not doing anything particularly unique or revolutionary in their respective roles, essentially playing a pair of overambitious nerds. Mintz-Plasse has experience here, appearing in such films as the bawdy Superbad and slacker comedy Role Models, but Johnson is known widely for his portrayal of John Lennon in 2009’s Nowhere Boy, and has nowhere near the same comedic pedigree. Considering he has to carry almost the entire picture on his skinny shoulders, it’s one hell of an accomplishment.

Despite Johnson and Mintz-Plasse’s exemplary performances, the standouts of the entire cast are Nicolas Cage - doing a pokerfaced impersonation of the great Adam West - as Big Daddy, and the fourteen-year-old Chloe Moretz as the punky, acid-tongued Hit-Girl, who makes Natalie Portman in Leon look like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. The villains are handled with care also, with Mark Strong’s (Mark Strong playing a villain? Never!) mobster, Frank D’Amico, and the rest of his clichéd New “Yoik” goons given enough screen time to develop as fleshy foils for our heroes. They are never menacing, but then Kick-Ass is not a menacing film. It is an ironic look at the world of superheroes and villains, with its tongue crammed firmly - much like the butt of Hit-Girl’s gun and Jason Flemyng’s gob - in its big, fat cheek.

But that doesn’t mean Kick- Ass never takes itself seriously. It has to, in order to produce some of the eyeball-searingly awesome action set pieces Matthew Vaughan and co. have managed. From a particularly nifty, one-shot sequence as Big Daddy massacres an entire platoon of D’Amico’s flunkies, to a magnificent, seizure-inducing sequence, as Hit Girl performs one of the greatest rescues in the history of cinema (piss off eh, Steve McQueen?) with the aid of some strobe lighting and the always inspiring tones of John Murphy, and the John Woo-inspired hallway shootout. Considering much of this scene is in total darkness and seen through the night-goggled eyes of our teenage killer, it’s a cracking achievement not only for Vaughan, but cinematographer Ben Davis; and it genuinely rivals Inception’s bowel-clenching ‘Spinning Hallway’ for 2010’s best action sequence.

When I originally saw this film upon its initial release, the audience actually cheered when the villain got his comeuppance, and applauded the end. I had to pinch myself just to see if I really was still in Britain. The lack of baseball caps and general rudeness of the people around me assured me I was. Only on very, very special occasions have I been a part of a British cinema audience that is actually stirred to a response like this. Considering that some of the other films capable of stimulating such mania include The Lord of the Rings and The Dark Knight, that should tell you the kind of lofty company Kick-Ass is rubbing shoulders with.

 And rightly so. Matthew Vaughan and screenwriter Jane Goldman have created a sharp, biting and witty alternative superhero world, with Vaughan proving himself once and for all, after a string of ‘nearly’ films, as a director of real skill, imagination, and courage. A genuine hope for the future. But you won’t catch me applauding at the end of a film. Far too English for that, old boy…

**** ½ / *****

Ah, just another Friday night in Salford...

X-Men: First Class

Special Extended Review
 
2011

Dir: Matthew Vaughan
 
At one point during X-Men: First Class, you would be excused for thinking you had accidentally wandered into an episode of The O.C, or, perhaps more accurately, Misfits, as a group of young, hip and attractive youngsters party the night away and show off their superpowers. Earlier, your hand would have been firmly placed over your mouth, with you questioning the validity of the ‘12A’ rating, as a man’s fillings are forcibly extracted from his head in a scene that makes Marathon Man look like Bambi. Therein lies the dilemma of Matthew Vaughan’s second, but much more traditional, exploration of the superhero genre: how to blend the light with the dark.

It is 1962. The United States of America and the USSR are in the midst of the Cold War, unaware of what is taking place around them. There are special individuals in the world who have evolved - or “mutated” - past the standard human abilities to possess what we would consider superpowers, such as telepathy, teleportation, super strength etc. Two of these men, Charles Xavier, a telepath and Erik Lensherr, a man with the ability to control metal, are on very different paths. Whilst Xavier is trying to explain his condition and help his fellow mutants, Lensherr is on a path of vengeance against the man who murdered his mother in front of him in a concentration camp during the Second World War. That man is Sebastian Shaw, an extremely powerful mutant who is trying to manipulate a nuclear war between the USA and Soviet Union, a plan that ultimately leads Xavier and Lensherr together.

The contrast of darkness and light is of particular interest in First Class. It is obvious that the creators of this story - including Vaughan, writer Jane Goldman and previous X-Men director Bryan Singer - are acutely aware of the central theme of this universe. It is all about Xavier and Lensherr; one represents the light, and one the darkness. There are even unsubtle references to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Frankenstein made throughout the film, playing on this theme even more. It is an ambitious attempt, and one that superhero films have struggled with in the past. The great ones such as Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, as well as Sam Raimi’s Spiderman I and 2, have handled the adult themes within the comic book setting with enough care that it doesn’t become overbearing. Bryan Singer himself achieved this in X-Men and X2, but considering that First Class actually charts the rise of a particular character to who IGN consider to be the greatest comic book villain of all time, Vaughan and his team faced a much sterner test.

And it works. If this film is all about the emergence of Magneto, then it works perfectly. He is the most captivating character in the film by quite a significant margin, helped largely by the mesmerizingly intense performance from the continuously wonderful Michael Fassbender, who plays a much better James Bond here than Daniel Craig does in an actual 007 film. It is true that his Irish accent makes an unwanted appearance towards the end, but that doesn’t take away from just how tremendous he is. In terms of X-Men characters, Fassbender’s Magneto completely blows Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine and even Ian McKellen’s own excellent version of the magnetic manipulator out of the water, standing head and shoulders above the rest as the best character in the comic book, and deserving a spot on the lists of great comic book screen villains along with Gene Hackman’s Lex Luthor, Alfred Molina’s Dr. Octopus and, of course, Heath Ledger’s Joker. He is even given his own theme music, reused but changed ever so slightly each time by composer Henry Jackman - who emerges triumphantly from John Murphy’s shadow with this score - to great, menacing effect each and every time Lensherr graces our screen.

But, unfortunately, the film is not only about Magneto. As with all X-Men films, part of the enjoyment is that there is an absolute plethora of other characters, some on the lighter side of things, and others sharing the shadow. It is, for the most part, the ones in the light who suffer. The younger characters are just not developed at all. They are recruited far too easily; they do a bit of training, they do a bit of moping, and suddenly they’re ready for the final showdown. For characters such as Lucas Till’s Havok and Caleb Landry Jones’ Banshee, this lack of character development doesn’t really matter, as they are only bit-part players anyway who go absolutely nowhere. However, for the likes of Jennifer Lawrence’s Mystique, Nicholas Hoult’s Dr. Hank McCoy, and Zoë Kravitz’s Angel, all of whom have significant moments over the course of the narrative, their lack of character development is a great hindrance, and makes these moments either jarring or just plain weird. That being said, Hoult is very likeable in his role as the team’s resident Q, proving that some of the lighter characters can work, but it is really down to their individual performance. It is the same with James McAvoy as Charles Xavier. McAvoy manages to make the young professor intelligent, serious and likeable, so his leadership qualities are never in doubt. It is his relationship with Magneto that is the real draw of First Class, and both he and Fassbender sizzle when sharing the screen with one another, whilst the script avoids the mistake of simply having them fall into long and lazy ethical debates.

As for the real antagonists of this film, the Hellfire Club certainly win the award for the best dressed villains of the year. In another nod to Bond, Kevin Bacon’s Shaw, January Jones’ stunning Emma Frost, Jason Flemyng’s demonic Azazel, and Álex González’s Riptide saunter around their secret bases in outfits that would have fitted in perfectly well at the pompously ridiculous Royal wedding. Bacon is the obvious standout of the quartet, but then he’s the only one really given anything to do. Flemyng and González fall into the same category as Ray Park’s Toad from X-Men, and Kelly Hu’s Deathstrike from X2, as extremely cool henchmen who kick some serious arse whilst barely uttering a word. Jones is a disappointment, with Emma Frost one of the more intriguing villainesses of comic book lore, and yet is relegated to little more than an extremely bored (and hot) looking piece of meat. Any scene that Bacon is in though is a great deal of fun. His introduction is reminiscent of Christoph Waltz’s sinister arrival in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds, and I don’t think that’s an accident. He plays the role of the supremely confident, pleasant and calm ‘Big Bad’ excellently, never raising his voice, never taking a bite out of the scenery, whilst retaining enough malice in that creepy smile of his to remind you that any minute he is going to rip your throat out. And all that whilst wearing a great big silly hat for most of the picture.

But his evil scheme isn’t anything we haven’t seen before. Just like a Bond flick, the plot is ludicrous and obvious - I mean, come on, the film is set during the 60s and we don’t get a single reference to the American Civil Rights Movement? - and feels a teeny bit convenient just to get everyone in the same place at the same time for a big showdown with lots of explosions. And sadly the explosions aren’t all that impressive. There is no standout action sequence in First Class; nothing to rival Nightcrawler’s breathless, teleporting attack on the President at the beginning of X2, or the epic confrontation between Wolverine and Deathstrike at the end of the same film. The special effects just aren’t very impressive and look a bit rushed. The final battle that takes place on a conveniently placed tropical island reeks of Green Screen shitness. They might not be as bad as the ones in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but they are still pretty crap. It’s unsurprising really, considering that Vaughan only started working on this film barely a year ago, and here it is in the theatres. At least Azazel’s teleporting, like Nightcrawler’s before him, still looks funky.

So as you might have gathered, overall First Class is not as good as Bryan Singer’s X-Men 2. Vaughan’s prequel moves at a much swifter pace, and whenever Fassbender, McAvoy and Bacon are on the screen, everything is fine, but when we are left with the other, empty, horribly 2D characters, the speed just feels sloppy, and makes you yearn for the days of Rogue, Iceman and Pyro, three smaller characters who were handled properly and given enough flesh on their acting bones to stop them from looking like nothing more than handsome skeletons. It is such a shame that these elements, along with the aforementioned special effects, drag First Class down, because it does so much right. It is a better film that X-Men, and in a completely different stratosphere to Brett Ratner’s appalling X-Men 3, whilst also standing well above the usual comic book fodder. It will probably be the best superhero film this year, topping Thor and Green Lantern quite comfortably already, and I don’t really have high hopes for Captain America: The First Avenger. But considering the genius behind Kick-Ass was at the helm, with the combined might of Fassbender, McAvoy and Kevin fucking Bacon on our screen, this should have been a whole lot better.

I speak negatively mainly because I had such very high hopes, unlike with other films of this nature, and I just hope that by the time the inevitable sequel comes around - it’s not like there’s a shortage of characters - Vaughan and co. are comfortable enough with the big budget to mutate this from very good into great.

*** ¾ / *****

Spot the methaphor

Four Lions

2010
Dir: Chris Morris
 
At one point during Four Lions, as a group of young, would-be suicide bombers scrape the gooey remains of their recently deceased friend into a bag, an argument ensues, in which one character angrily enquires, “Is he a martyr or is he a Jalfrezi?” It’s a funny line, and one that would normally have you sniggering into your popcorn like John Motson at a comedy gala, but considering a man has been killed moments before whilst planning a bomb attack, the laugh sticks in your throat. Chris Morris’ film is ridiculously funny; it’s just nothing to laugh about.

The plot is relatively straightforward, following four British jihadists as they train and prepare to commit a terrorist attack. Morris’ attitude towards all of this is somewhat admirable, making one see the complete and utter absurdity of everything through his use of some of the most inept and idiotic characters in cinematic history. It is not only the four potential bombers who are made to look like buffoons, but the authorities in equal measure. The guffaws are once again trapped in your windpipe, as two police snipers debate whether or not a Wookie is a bear after hastily gunning down a target during the London Marathon.

It is unfair that Four Lions has been criticised by people who have just completely missed Morris’ point. Do not take this film seriously. Yes, it concerns a group of young men with murderous intentions; yes, there have been attacks in real life, but if you are unable to laugh about it, then what is the point in combating it? Haven’t they already won?

The five leads are all impressive, with Riz Ahmed’s level-headed Omar and Nigel Lindsay’s ultra-aggressive Barry the standouts. Kayvan Novak also shines as the dim-witted Waj, who would blow up his own mother if promised a new Playstation, but his character occasionally strays into levels of silliness excessive even for this film.

But Four Lions is a tremendously successful and often poignant first venture into the world of cinema for the sarcastic piss-taker behind Brass Eye. We all know he can bring the chuckles, but try not to be moved as Omar says goodbye to his wife in some very strange hospital code, neither of them batting an eyelid. The debate will obviously rage on surrounding these issues, but Four Lions takes that debate, quite literally sticks it inside a great bit ninja turtle costume, and runs around in front of us like something out of The Three Stooges. Now that’s how you win the war on terror.

**** ¼ / *****

Equilibrium

2002
Dir: Kurt Wimmer

 
The Matrix, Brazil, Minority Report, 1984; name any dystopian Sci-Fi and you will have nailed a part of Equilibrium. The problem is though, all of these films are not only better than Kurt Wimmer’s flick, they are in a whole other galaxy.

In the future city-state of Libria (what genius came up with that name, eh? You’ll be calling something Unobtanium next), in the aftermath of war, a new totalitarian regime has emerged, which has identified human emotion as the problem, abolishing it via a drug called Prozium. Grammaton Clerics are the spearhead of Libria’s new law enforcement, but one of their rank, John Preston, following the death of his partner and an encounter with an ‘emotional’ woman, begins to question the validity of this new world.

So far, so George Orwell, right?

Equilibrium isn’t the most original piece of cinema, that’s for certain, injecting this 1984 world with action sequences so similar to The Matrix that you half expect to see Christian Bale entering ‘Bullet Time’ at any second. It’s just lazy old Hollywood, perfectly happy to churn out something we’ve seen a million times before. Instead of Big Brother, we get Sean Pertwee’s “Father”; instead of O’Brien, we are given Taye Diggs’ irritating Brandt; and instead of the aforementioned Bullet Time, we are forced to buy into the frankly ridiculous gun kata. At times Equilibrium feels like a computer game, and that’s probably where it should have ended up, with its flimsy plot, irrelevant ‘shoot ‘em up’ action scenes, wooden dialogue, in reality quite cheap looking costumes (what’s with all the motorcycle helmets?) and visuals, and robotically narrating villain. I seriously thought I was playing the old Red Faction games.

In terms of actors, Wimmer’s film would have been absolutely perfect for a terrible actor with an inability to express emotion. It worked brilliantly for Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. But instead we get a completely wasted Christian Bale, who, while great at minimalising his expressions, can never be said to lack emotion. But at least the emergence of his emotions over the course of the story is explained; with certain other characters it just seems like bad acting. Taye Diggs for example, may be the smuggest, nastiest emotionless man of all time. If it was implied that basically everyone was just pretending to take the drug, then it should have been explored further. Diggs’ Brandt, along with Angus Macfadyen’s DuPont are what pass for antagonists in Equilibrium, but come across about as threatening as Gandhi frolicking in a field of lambs on a lovely summer’s day in Heaven. Just rubbish. Your bleedin’ grandma could wipe the floor with these pansies. But at least they are not wasted like poor Emily Watson, who does nothing other than sit and look sad for the small percentage of time she is actually on screen. Perhaps if they’d spent less time on crappy video game shootouts and more time building the relationship between Watson’s Mary and Bale’s John, then there would have been at least some substance to this film.

But they don’t, and as a result, Equilibrium is left as a mess of a picture; a mutant sporting the various limbs of other, better ideas in the wrong places, and a joystick firmly between its legs. You’ll probably feel emotionally dead after this one too.

** / *****

Don't fuck with Batemen