With so many movies churned out on a weekly basis, it can be a serious challenge finding something even halfway decent to watch of an evening. A surefire solution then would be to seek out the help of the internet in finding worthy film entertainment and where better to start than with IMDB’s (by no means) definitive Top 250 movies that people bothered to vote for.
Under the spotlight this time North by Northwest.
I’m obliquely aware of Alfred Hitchcock, skirting the edges of his creative output in fits and starts and often loving every minute of it. There’s something overwhelmingly playful about his movies, about the ways he toyed with his audience just as much as his protagonist and the faultless, often dazzling visual style he brought to bear without seeming to dip into the gimmicky. His purpose was entertainment and his process without peer so it’s only natural that many of his films work just as well today as when they were originally released.
And so it is with 1959’s North by Northwest, a fairly standard tale of mistaken identity that enfolds the viewer in layers of spygame hokum, led by a ferociously charming performance from Cary Grant. Here, he effortlessly embodies everything which George Clooney has been striving for for over a decade, the multisexual appeal, the understated physicality and a wit both self effacing and sharply smug at the same time. Eva Marie Saint’s advances may have seemed progressive on paper but onscreen there’s no question that it’s Grant in charge and, sexual politics aside, would you really want it any other way?
It may be over 50 years old but North by Northwest simply rockets along from the shockingly contemporary titles by Saul Bass to the finale conveniently located at a national monument (Mt. Rushmore), there’s a formula here which is still followed by the genre to this day. James Mason’s clipped tone (and equally well tailored suits) make a perfect evil foil and then 31 year old Martin Landau makes an great impression as a slightly effeminate henchmen in only his second big screen role. The gags are still funny (especially Grant playing drunk), the dialogue is punchy without feeling forced and even the action scenes feel far from geriatric – particularly the famous cropduster face-off which ends with a pyrotechnic bang that’s no less effective than a modern day blockbuster. A classic slice of Hollywood entertainment that feels just as fresh today as it did 5 decades ago.
173/250
A couple of options from here – either dive into my first Ingmar Bergman (I know, shameful) with Persona or The Seventh Seal or check out The Lives of Others...
Being mildly addicted to Facebook I recently took the test to see how many of IMDB's Top 250 movies I had seen. The result - 171 out of 250. Respectable enough for the layman but I'm supposed to be a movie reviewer so it simply won't do. The only possible solution (short of completely disregarding the list as an arbitrary series of votes by the mostly American userbase of a website) was to start at the beginning and work my way down, checking out every movie I could along to the way.
First up Rosemary's Baby.
Coming from a pre-lawsuit Roman Polanski in 1968, Rosemary's Baby stars Mia Farrow as a young, pregnant mother to be who wanders around her apartment block in downtown New York, gets hassled by the neighbours, casually mistreated by her actor husband (John Cassavetes) and slowly begins to suspect that something nefarious is afoot. Its attractively shot, menacingly directed and Farrow is certainly fetching (though a little shrill and emaciated) in the lead role. But its didn't work for me in the end because of one fatal flaw - it completely gives the game away in the first 15 minutes. The supposedly shocking finale isn't just subtly hinted it, its boldly drawn onscreen in the opening scenes with a vividly realised demonic rape. The entire focus of the film could have been completely shifted if that scene was moved to the final act and hinted at instead of shown.
The rest is basic paranoia and dread, ratcheting up the tension for no real payoff and almost no scares. Farrow is never in danger, in fact if anything she can rely on the other residents to keep her as safe as possible to preserve the child she is carrying. The ending is reasonably haunting but even then was far less shocking than I was expecting. A disappointment.
Whatever happened to John Landis? The director of The Blues Brothers and comedy/horror classic An American Werewolf in London has disappeared off the theatrical release radar since the horrendous PG-13 Blues Brothers 2000 back in 1998. Well the 60 year old is still alive and kicking, which is more than can be said for much of the cast of his latest effort.
The film follows the story of real-life Irish born graverobbers and murderers William Burke and William Hare, who profited from a lack of corpses for medical study in 19th Century Edinburgh by killing people so they could sell the bodies to a local medical college. It’s a macabre and honestly horrifying story of just how mercenary people can be in order to make money and the depths they are willing to sink to – the accomplices even started to bump off their own family before the end. Perfect fodder for a comedy so.
In movie land, the villains are played by Simon Pegg (Burke) and Andy Serkis (Hare) so you already know from the start that they are going to be likeable rogues. The film goes out of its way to paint them as human beings, layering on Hare’s browbeating wife (Jessica Hynes) and a love interest for Pegg in the form of the delectable Isla Fisher while pointedly ignoring the genuinely horrific nature of their crimes.
There was room here for a truly black comedy with lashings of over the top gore (courtesy of the many dissections) but the film keeps things far too light, trying to make us feel sorry for the characters – particularly Burke. Sadly, the dramatic attempts are flawed and the laughs few and far between, more often courtesy of the nearly endless cameos from the likes of Ronnie Corbet and Stephen Merchant. Thriller was scarier. Funnier too.
Last night, Disney hosted a special screening of 23 minutes of footage from their upcoming 3D blockbuster Tron: Legacy in Dublin. We went along to check out the movie that will be hoping to recreate the massive success of last year’s Avatar when it hits theatres in December.
Tron: Legacy is the sequel to the 1982 original, focussed on Sam Flynn (Garret Hedlund), the son of Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges) – the hero of the first film. 20 years ago, Flynn kissed his son goodnight and vanished without a trace. Now in his mid 20’s, Sam suddenly gets word that his father may still be alive and returns to the old, boarded up arcade and into a world he never dreamed possible. The footage began with a message from director Joseph Kosinski, letting the audience know that the scenes are relatively spoiler free and that the sound mix wasn’t complete – while also assuring us that even though the opening moments are in 2D, it’s recommended you watch them through the 3D glasses for the best effect.
The first scene was set in the real world, as Alan Bradley (a returning Bruce Boxleitner) tells the young Flynn off for a stunt he pulled which landed him in jail, and not for the first time. He tells Sam that he received a page from Kevin Flynn’s old office, from a number that’s been out of service for decades. Sam makes his way to the arcade, vintage machines wreathed in dust coats which come alive at the touch of a circuit breaker. Behind the original Tron console lies a hidden office and extremely fancy (for 1989) touch screen computer complete with menacing laser pointed directly at Young Flynn’s head...
Suddenly, we’re on The Grid and the image comes alive. Dark colours are accented by the startling neon detailing of a towering Recogniser, which scoops Flynn up and transports him along with a group of programs to the city. He is selected for the games, with one program choosing to kill himself rather than participate – our first glimpse of the movie’s new, particulate and body shattering de-rezzing effect.
Flynn is undressed and suited up for battle by a team of Sirens led by Beau Garret who has only one word of advice – survive. Then we get the first glimpse of a disk battle, with multiple fights taking place at once in isolated pods. Flynn faces off against a character he recognises from the Tron toys his father gave him (you can catch a peek of one in the second theatrical trailer, see below) but fumbles with his own disk when he’s suddenly attacked. The game becomes even more deadly they he realises that the walls and floor are fragile and a fall means instant death.
Next, we get a brief glimpse of the light cycles as Flynn speeds along in a two man bike, a mysterious helmeted figure at his side. They destroy a wall and go off grid, somewhere their enemies cannot follow, and his companion reveals herself as Quorra – played by a buoyant Olive Wilde. The final scene occurred far from The Grid in an isolated safehouse, where Sam gets reunited with his long lost father and the elder Flynn gazes out across the world, wondering what will happen next.
The preview ended with a sizzle reel, starting with a cameo from Daft Punk as master of ceremonies Michael Sheen asks them to ‘change the mood’ before the music and images launched into overdrive. As neon fireworks explode in time to the music we got tiny glimpses of light jets dogfighting, light cycle battles in a massive arena and Jeff Bridges’ CG-enhanced alter-ego CLU sitting atop his throne.
The Tron: Legacy preview was certainly impressive but if you are choosing select scenes to demo your blockbuster you’re hardly going to create something underwhelming. The most surprising thing about what was shown is that it managed to avoid any overtly spectacular scenes, with almost half of that was shown either taking place in the real world or focussing more on drama than action. It’s clear that Disney isn’t just out to wow us with CG and 3D hi-jinks, instead they are keen to showcase the quality of the entire production. It’s a brave move but one which seems to have worked, there’s a real sense that they might have something special on their hands rather than just another SFX-filled show.
The effects are stunning though, CG and real sets/costumes blending perfectly. This is no doubt helped by the high contrast nature of the world and the generally plastic nature of the surfaces, an effect which CG can handle much easier than the textures of reality. Speaking of textures, the filmmakers have chosen to add a very specific effect to the scenes taking place inside the computer world, a thickness to the air reminiscent of the lines and whorls of an LCD screen. It’s subtle, like the green tinge of The Matrix world, but it makes the image remarkably distinct, and really helps give a sense of depth to the proceedings, which is essential for a compelling 3D experience.
The 3D is also mostly subtle, few moments extending beyond the screen. Colours pop brilliantly, aided by an extremely dark shooting style which looks a million miles away from regular Disney films. If anything, the images might be a little too dark but again that lends the film a unique look which will help it stand out from competitors. The tone might be a bit more problematic – everything seems starkly serious apart from Quorra’s oddly chirpy attitude, as a warrior character I was expecting a much more muted and brooding performance from Wilde.
Lead Hedlund (who played Brad Pitt’s cousin in Troy) looks well in the suit and has a hint of a younger Bridges in his voice but it remains to be seen if he can carry a film. It’s great to see Bridges reprising the role and working on the performance capture for CLU is a massive technological feat – even if it still looks incredibly creepy at times, the framerate of CG simply can’t match the smoothness of a real human being. Perhaps they can explain that away within the world of the film.
Leaving the best til last – the visuals and the music are simply amazing. As a massive Recogniser heads out across the digital landscape, Daft Punks synth score reverberates around in a cacophony of musical bits and bytes. It’s the perfect marriage of artist and movie and the design work takes the template created for Tron back in 1982 and runs with it – imagining a world which has been allowed to grow and change exponentially over millions of cycles to create something truly out of this world.
The world of Tron was always ripe to be revisited, particularly in light of advancements in technology and the public understanding of the digital realm. With this self assured early preview and almost two months left for tinkering and polishing the effects, Legacy could well be the game we’ve all been waiting for.
You may never have heard of Black Dynamite but there's a chance it could be the best comedy of the year.
A sometimes spoof of 70s Blaxploitation flicks, Black Dynamite sees the titular character out for revenge after his brother is killed. What follows is a pitch-perfect send up of the genre which mixes straight comedy, self aware spoof and fun action to dazzling effect. The film should be a mess of conflicting styles but everything, from the archive footage which supplements action scenes to continuity errors and some purposefully forced acting, comes together almost perfectly.
Much of this is down to screenwriter and star Michael Jai White, who brings gravitas to a role that could have been ridiculous while also acquitting himself well in the action scenes and creating some bizarre asides which comment on his own awesomeness. It's the perfect marriage of material and performance and the rest all support the carefully balanced tone, which makes Salli Richardson-Whitfield role all the more important as the only straight character in the bunch.
There are moments when the self-aware style begins to wear a little thin and we're not sure we needed an animated Zodiac themed sex scene but Black Dynamite is still the best comedy we've seen this year and worth the price of entry alone for the scene in which the team finally discover the truth behind the villains scheme.
5/5
Black Dynamite is showing exclusively at the Screen Cinema Dublin from the 3rd of September. Go see it!
It's been hard to avoid the negative critical reaction to Jonah Hex since its US release in June, with the film garnering some of the lowest scores in recent memories. Now we finally get a chance to see this box office bomb in Irish cinemas.
It's immediately apparent from the first frames that Jonah Hex's journey to the big screen was a tortured one. The opening animated exposition has the instantly recognisable odour of a desperate attempt by a studio to make sense of a damaged project, making the bizarre decision to skip Hex's origin story and suggest that his main enemy (John Malkovich) is already dead. The animation is shoddy, the voice over vague and it leaves the audience more unsure than they would have been without.
Things do improve marginally when Brolin takes to the screen in his extremely uncomfortable looking make-up and the opening action scene is watchable (wasting no time in whipping out those horse-mounted chain guns) but viewers should note that Hex seems incapable of leaving a building or location without it burning to the ground behind him. You half suspect him to leave an explosive behind when he visits an outhouse. From there, Malkovich's Turnbull resurfaces with a doomsday plot to destroy the United States and Hex shuffles along in his wake, shooting stuff and grimacing while paying occasional visits to unnecessary side-kick Megan Fox. Who actually looks decent with a gun, take note casting directors.
It's all pointlessly convoluted, mixing Wild West action with a never explained supernatural side-story that ramps up to a symbolic fight between Turnbull and Hex in the desert, intercut with a distinctly uninteresting boat-based finale. Only Michael Fassbender makes an impression on the acting front, while an impressively mis-cast Will Arnett struggles to be taken seriously and Aiden Quinn looks positively embarrassed. Brolin seems oddly committed to the role, amid rumours that he fiddled extensively with the crass and ultraviolent script by Crank creators Neveldine and Taylor - which would have been preferable to this limp pseudo Western. Jonah Hex is far from being the worst film ever made but instead wastes a fun concept with shoddy action, terrible dialogue and a backstory that robs the film of most of its drama.
We had high hopes for The Sorcerer's Apprentice and, after an overly complicated historical introduction, it starts well - with young Dave's incursion into a fantastical magic shop recalling 80s greats like The Neverending Story.
Then we flash-forward to Jay Barucehel in modern day New York and things start to get a little ropey. It's not just Nicolas Cage's increasingly unlikely wigs, Baruchel's improbably high pitched voice (seriously, was he chosen because he actually sounds like Mickey Mouse?) nor the pointlessly scientific approach to magic but a combination of all these things and the film serious deficit of fun. It's all the more disappointing because two supporting players, Alfred Molina and Toby Kebbell, perfectly capture the quirky tone we know director Turteltaub is capable of sustaining - their moments together as master and apprentice are the highlight of the film.
Still, some of the magic is impressive and its slightly less limp than much of the child friendly dross we've seen in 2010.
Based on the successful (and by all accounts decent) Nickelodeon cartoon series, the film tells the story of the mythical Avatar who could unite the warring elemental nations of fire, water, earth and air by being awesome. And bald. And a kid who beats baddies up with air.
It's never a good sign when a children's film has to start with a screenful of text to get young 'uns up to speed and throughout Shyamalan takes extended time outs for laboured exposition and backstories. His writing and direction lack any kind of pace or vigour, relying on masses of close-ups and POV conversations which are simply out of place in a blockbuster adventure. The action when it comes is lazy, there's rarely any correlation between the frantic martial arts moves of the combatants and the flurries of elemental powers, while a few slow-motion 300-esque moments seem tacked on. In short; an attractive and utterly boring mess, with shoddy 3D and no sense of fun. Avoid.
As Seattle is plagued by a series of violent murders, Bella and Edward have been reunited, with Jacob pushed to the sidelines once again. But when an army of young vampires descends on Forks, the vamps and werewolves have to work together to keep Bella safe.
Eclipse is easily the most male friendly entry in the series to date with some nice dark visuals and meaty action, particularly in a last act face-off that seems to prove that vampires are made out tin-foil. This all comes courtesy of director David Slade, who knows his vampire action from the not-quite-brilliant 30 Days of Night. The new focus on action means less slushy stuff from the leads and the cutaways to Seatlle are dripping with atmosphere, as are several flashbacks which recount the early lives on the vampire brood - in brief story snatches more compelling than anything conjured up in the movies. Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson finally look halfway comfortable in their roles, though the romance is still to heavy handed and the clear anti-sex message overwhelming - not only will Edward not be with Bella until they are married but he makes it very clear that the consummation might well kill her. Elsewhere, Taylor Lautner tries some humour and doesn't quite pull it off while only Billy Burke seems intent to point out the ridiculousness of it all. This entry spends minimal time with supporting characters, particularly Bella's school friends which is a big loss as Anna Kendrick was one of the more bearable things about New Moon.
The main problem with Eclipse is a near total lack of story, a negative point inherited by the ponderous book which seemed like nothing more than an excuse to have some vampire on vampire action. It's a shame, because the stylish visuals, strong action and improved effects could have made this the best in the series, but without any character development the finale lacks punch. Still, guys won't be bored and the target demographic will lap up the restrained shirtlessness and some slightly steamier scenes with the personality-free leads.
I have to admit when news filtered through the interweb that 20th Century Fox were re-animating the much abused corpse of the Predator franchise it filled me with dread. Having not only suffered the indignity of a limp 1990 sequel starring Lispy McLisps-a-lot (aka Danny Glover), the character has been further brutalised by two AvP films which surgically removed everything even slightly memorable. But against all odds, Robert Rodriguez and director Nimród Antal have served up a sci-fi action dish in Predators which is almost the equal of the 1987 classic.
It starts badly, following a dumbfounded Adrien Brody as he freefalls towards an endless jungle. The effects are ropy and the opening character introductions a little too broad. But as more chutes plunge into the canopy and the eight strangers slowly band together there’s a sense of logic to the proceedings – of highly trained individuals pooling their resources to survive, or at least biding their time til they get the lay of the land. And as the minutes tick by in wafer thin, but adequate, character development, you suddenly realise that nothing supernatural has happened. Predators spends serious time in the jungle as a survival thriller before ever broaching the possibility of being trapped on an alien planet. The film feels no need for an upfront teaser to reassure the fans that they are seeing a Predator film – quietly confident that it works without the need for overpowering effects and gore.
And it does; eight characters means there’s always a new source of drama and the film avoids reeling out obvious gags to create a forced sense of camaraderie – these people aren’t friends, they are just trying to survive. This slower paced introduction doles out exposition in generous helpings, almost always from Brody, who appears to be the only one with any functioning senses – at one point Braga’s Isabelle points out that there is no magnetic north, while Brody calmly observes that the sun seems to be fixed in the sky. The spoonfed explanations get a little trying, but the dumber members of the group are clearly standing in for those equally sloth-minded audience members, an unfortunate must in blockbuster cinema.
Predators also knows exactly how to play to fans of the original – drawing expertly on our nostalgia in similar ways to Superman Returns. It’s most obvious in the music – Alan Silvestri’s awesome score is referenced subtly in the beat of eerie drums or a brief trill of the theme – but even the structure of the film is carefully planned, creating parallels in the placement of similar scenes, such as the discovery of a skinned carcass. Antal and Rodriguez have created a smarter film here than they will be given credit for.
When the pace picks up, the film is smart enough to reference the real hunting practises which made the original so memorable, introducing new creatures and inverting the formula just enough to remain fresh. In many ways, it’s a more ambitious story, told with a minimum of CG enhancements and some restrained but effective gore.
Naturally, it’s not perfect – Lawrence Fishburne’s character is a little problematic and the final act finds itself with too many bodies left to dispose of, killing off characters in quick succession before an ending that threatens to go off the rails. To the filmmakers credit, it doesn’t and there’s certainly material here for a spate of spin-offs and sequels. Against all odds, Brody is great in the central role of Royce – adding a guttural bark to his normal nasal tone and getting in tremendous shape. The cast in general is surprisingly solid, especially the ineffably cool Alice Braga and a memorable Walton Goggins, who earns most of the films laughs with some off-colour humour. Topher Grace and Fishburne are the weak links but neither is distracting enough to spoil the film.
Predators is easily the best movie in the series since the original. The action is strong, the characters are adequate and, above all else, it doesn’t defecate from orbit on our one of the best sci-fi actioners of the 80s. Watch it.
When in Rome almost lost me with its staid romantic/comedy intro, complete with Beth’s three demographic-grabbing friends (one fat, one cute, one gay) and a laboured social faux pas. But once the plot finally kicked into gear, things improved dramatically.
This is chiefly because of the leads – even hamstrung by weak dialogue and plotting, Bell is never less than engaging and I was surprised by Duhamel, having only previously encountered him as a prop in Transformers and its travesty of a sequel. The duo have decent chemistry and comic timing, and are introduced in a pair of enjoyable set pieces that actually manage to draw a laugh from tired slapstick. Once back in New York, the lazy genre requirements have to be trundled out, though at least we have the magically infatuated suitors for a bit of distraction. These cameos are easily the most disappointing thing about the film – throwing up names like Danny DeVito, Jon Heder and Will Arnett but giving them absolutely nothing to do.
The character bloat spoils the final act, as the overcomplicated supernatural goings-on have to be resolved, including an utterly dull and seemingly endless scene of exposition to some couch-bound former funny men. There’s some last minute drama and indecision but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the ending.
When in Rome is sporadically charming and hopefully will lead to bigger things for the talented Bell. Director Johnson (who made Daredevil - which isn't as bad as you remember - honest!) keeps things going at a good pace and feels most comfortable with the set pieces – like a crazy action scene in a miniature car towards the end. But the comedy cameos are wasted, the supporting characters dull or annoying (apart from the always fantastic Kristen Schaal and some terrible CG effects threaten to spoil the goodwill of the audience. Oh, and there’s a dance sequence over the credits for no discernible reason.
Charming leads and a few laughs mean romantic/comedy fans could do much worse.
MacGruber started life as a Saturday Night Live parody of the 80s TV show ‘MacGyver’, who made complex and non-violent gadgets out of seemingly innocuous household items. In the short sketches MacGruber, along with his assistant and the celebrity guest of the week, would find himself confronted by a ticking bomb with only seconds to live. Inevitably, the segments ended with the bomb exploding due to his ineptitude; cue polite laughter.
Now, despite these sketches being only mildly amusing at best, the SNL powers that be have decided that MacGruber is the perfect character to reignite their flagging success at the box office in a 90 minute action blockbuster.
The film starts well, playing it straight with a bloodthirsty intro before the (forgiveable)puerile title sequence and the following decent parody of the monastery scene from Rambo III, complete with a gravelly voiced Powers Boothe. It’s in these moments that MacGruber is most effective, when the action movie homage is to the fore and the supporting cast are playing it straight – leaving mulleted Will Forte to ham it up as the title character.
It’s a shame then that much of the rest of the film meanders off in search of laughs, more often earning guilty sniggers from recurring gags like Kilmer’s character name – Dieter Von Cunth. Yes really. A few moments could have been hilarious with better pacing and editing, such as an accidental explosion or an inappropriate human shield but both are over-edited and spoiled mercilessly by the trailers.
Forte is certainly committed to the role, even when sporting a celery suppository there’s never the slightest hint of self-consciousness. But the character lacks a single redeeming quality to make the audience root for him. The talented Kristen Wiig reprises her supporting role from the sketches but her solid comic timing is all but wasted, apart from a nearly titter worthy cafe scene, and you have to wonder how far down the list previously-famous Ryan Philippe was. Kilmer is just amorphous filler with nothing to do, despite proving utterly hilarious with the right material and only schlock-veteran Boothe emerges relatively unscathed.
MacGruber at least tries to flesh out its meagre premise by taking a parodic stab at the action genre with some nods to the ‘MacGyver’ series (there’s a court case pending on the legalities) but the budget is too limited for any decent action and to say that the humour is aimed at the gutter would probably be a compliment. The laughs are few and far between – unless you think defecating on a corpse is comedy gold.
Remember when SNL movies were funny? No, neither do I.
Ben Stiller goes all indie and dramatic with The Squid and the Whale director at the helm.
Stiller's Greenberg is a man in his 40s recovering from a recent mental breakdown who decides to 'do nothing for a while' and housesit for this successful brother. There, he starts an awkward romance with his brothers assistant (Greta Gerwig) and restrained quirkiness ensues.
Director Noah Baumbach keeps his latest effort relatively grounded, creating a character study of a person who is almost impossible to like. Greenberg is clearly damaged but his endless self-absorption makes it's hard to root for him to get better. Likewise, Gerwig's Florence is so weak-willed and insipid, submitting to sexual advances because it's easier than saying no, that it seems like neither character has any positive forward momentum. You dread the idea of them ending up together as surely she would be utterly subsumed by his egocentric world view.
It's a considerable achievement then that Greenberg remains watchable, even if the plot is limited and the characters insufferable. Stiller has never been better and there's able support from the likes of a wonderfully restrained Rhys Ifans and Jennifer Jason Leigh.
Director Antoine Fuqua tries to recapture some of the Oscar-winning glory of 2001's Training Day with this gritty ensemble drama and is at least partly successful.
The interweaving tale of three unrelated New York City cops takes us into some very dark territory - particularly in the case of Ethan Hawke's character, a good man worn down by the demands of a large and ailing family. He gives a powerhouse performance, easily overshadowing a mis-cast Richard Gere and the inconsistent Don Cheadle and its good to see ever charismatic Wesley Snipes back in a theatrically-released film.
HBO fans of the world unite - did you like 'Rome'? How about the superlative 'Deadwood' or the potential splendour of 'Carnivale'?
Well do you know what you can have instead of a satisfying, plot resolving resolution to any of those fine series' - you can listen to an octogenarian harridan screaming 'Lawrence of my labia' while squirming in vomit-inducing pleasure. You can also marvel at the scene where it's difficult to tell the difference between a group of camels and the increasingly leather-skinned ladies or the frankly insulting fiddly-jig which plays every time a braless Irish nanny takes to the screen.
On the small screen, 'SATC' was acerbically sharp, envelope-pushing and BLISSFULLY SHORT! After two and a half hours of adventures in international ignorance and sexual encounters that threaten the gag reflex, you'll be hard pushed to remember what made these girls so fantastic the first time round.
Brick director Rian Johnson delivers up his sophomore effort with The Brothers Bloom – a slick and classy con artist pic with some great performances but too many quirks to be a classic of the genre.
Orphaned brothers Stephen (Mark Ruffalo) and Bloom (Adrien Brody) bounced from one foster home to the next as children – a lifestyle spurred on my intricately-planned cons like that which starts the film. 25 years later, the dramatics have reached fever pitch but the same problems remain – Stephen loves the thrill of the con while Bloom is terrified that he has never had a genuine moment in a life of deceit. Together with their mostly mute explosives expert Bang Bang (Rinko Kikuchi), the brothers take on one last job which Stephen promises will finally give Bloom what he really wants. The target – Rachel Weisz’s Penelope; a rich shut-in with a hundred expert hobbies and no sense of reality.
The Brothers Bloom lays on the charm from the outset – building the symbiotic relationship between the leads through scenes of expertly narrated visual poetry. The first adult con is gloriously unveiled and luring in Weisz heiress is done stylishly and with good humour, as the audience is slowly embroiled in a convoluted plan which sees her join the gang of 'art smugglers' as they set off on a picturesque criminal world tour - taking in Montenegro, Prague and Romania. Inevitable romantic complications and devilish twists arise as we wend our way towards the dramatic finale.
It’s clear that Johnson has a love of genre films – Brick was his ode to film noir and The Brother Bloom seems just as enamoured with the con movie. The problem is that the best con artist films are as complex as the criminal plans themselves and while the film is technically impressive and all the genre elements are in their proper place there’s one important part missing. The best con films are just as concerned with fooling the audience as the mark, but we never feel that The Brothers Bloom is really getting under our skin.
The Brothers Bloom is a fun caper flick with some gorgeous images and a memorable performance from Rachel Weisz. But its not as clever as you would like it to be and the endlessly quirky tone ultimately distracts from the potentially dramatic twists of the finale. There's no doubt Johnson is a talented filmmaker but maybe this project was a little too ambitious for an inexperienced director.
Sequel to the 2007 shocker, this second film picks up minutes later, as an armed SWAT team is sent in with a medical officer to find out what exactly is going on in the quarantined apartment building.
Rec was a brilliant exercise in first person terror, playing with the limits of a single perspective to create an unnerving action/horror with a genuinely unsettling finale. The sequel ramps up the pace from the very beginning and changes the rules by sending in our heroes armed to the teeth and forewarned about some of the dangers inside. It's a welcome change, ensuring that Rec 2 isn't a typical horror sequel with the same scares in a different location.
But it also robs the film of some of its tension, forcing the directors to fabricate reasons to make the response team vulnerable. Some work, like a moment when one squad member is isolated in a duct and pursued by a shadowy form, but several other contrivances just make this elite team of killers seem like imbeciles. And don't get me started on the idiotic trio of kids who improbably sneak into the building in a parallel story clearly introduced to pad out the running time. The creeping dread is also lessened by endless scenes of exposition made necessary by the new supernatural, pseudo-religious explanation for the horrors taking place. These elements did make an appearance in the first film but when Rec 2 briefly decides to turn into The Exorcist, it threatens to lose its audience.
Happily, there's still a ferocious energy to the proceedings, and directing team Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza clearly had a much bigger budget to play with this time. Squibs explode everywhere, deaths are impressively gory (particularly some underage headshots) and there are several impressively staged first-person moments, courtesy of the SWAT teams helmet cams. But they also overstretch their abilities, particularly as the film draws to a close and nightvision becomes essential to driving the story forward. It's a great concept but, layered on top of so much extraneous narrative and technical feats, it overcomplicates what should be an exercise in pure terror.
Watchable and technically impressive, Rec 2 is so busy trying to impress its audience that it forgets it's supposed to scare them too.
When adopted Prince Dastan leads his father’s army in a successful attack on an enemy stronghold, he earns the acclaim of the people. But when his father his assassinated and Dastan framed for the murder, he goes on the run with the cities Princess and a seemingly innocuous dagger in tow. Little does he know that together they have the power to erase the terrible recent events, or destroy the world.
Based in part on the 2003 video game and featuring one of the genres most revered characters, Prince of Persia is as close as you can get to video game royalty. After our chat last month with creator and co-writer Jordan Mechner we were confident that The Sands of Time would be a step above the average, video game adaptation.
And it certainly is – arguably marking the first time that a proper narrative film has been successfully inspired by game material, bolstered by some stunning visuals, a massive production budget and a top drawer cast.
It’s a progression for the sub-genre then, no doubt helped by steering clear of the plot of the games, instead focussing on creating a vivid adventure, complete with its own mythologies and supernatural items. Chief among them is the Dagger of Time – in the games it allowed the Prince to steal back a precious few temporal seconds in the event of imminent death. In the film it becomes a doomsday device, protected for centuries by a clan of guardians, with Gemma Arterton’s Tamina the latest in the line. The Dagger is the crux of the film; in the wrong hands it could unleash the sands from the Hourglass of the Gods and destroy the world or rewrite history.
The problem here is that the mythology is opaque and unfamiliar, leaving the audience adrift. The powers of the Dagger themselves are limited, ill-defined and a little pointless. The time-reversing sequences in the film are attractive to look at but nothing more – we aren’t given time to linger on the awesomeness of being able to manipulate time. And the power is rarely used to compliment the action – more often by accident or to prove a point. Apart from one decent moment with a snake attack, it misses the appeal completely of knowing that you have a lifeline, of being able to make an incredible leap of faith without the possibility of death.
Naturally enough, the film looks dazzling, with massive sets and decent CG that is a little cartoonish but makes up for it with the scale of the Persian cities it recreates. But too little use is made of these massive sets and locations and the Parkour-inspired running and vaulting of the games is almost entirely absent, despite its obvious appeal to an action/adventure film. The Prince is too often saddled with a whinging side-kick and further hampered by Gyllenhaal’s minimal physical prowess. He may be newly buff and acquits himself reasonably well in the swordplay but he’s too bulky for the copious acrobatics, forcing the film to resort to judicious editing to make his actions seem fluid. Apart from an opening fortress assault, there are few memorable set pieces and a focus in the final act on remarkably dull one-on-one fights. It’s not helped by the sudden introduction of a band of comically villainous Hassansin warriors who appear to have magical powers just because they can.
When he’s not flailing around like a reject from Cirque Du Soleil, Jake Gyllenhaal is almost brilliant as Dastan. His faintly Cockney accent rarely slips and despite looking decidedly un-Persian he’s an easy-going lead with some decent comic timing. It’s just a shame he shares most of his quip-heavy scenes with the increasingly dull Arterton, who presents all her dialogue without a hint of inflection, irony or humour. Most of the time she stands there looking like a fake-tanned, anorexic guppy while Gyllenhaal tries his best to wring some bitchy rapport from the proceedings. Toby Kebbell and Richard Coyle (that Welsh one from ‘Coupling’) are decent as Dastan’s brothers and Ben Kingsley seems lost as their uncle. The only consistently entertaining performance comes from Alfred Molina’s Sheik Amar, who rails against taxes and conjures up massive conspiracy theories. It may be anachronistic but at least he has some token personality.
And it’s that personality which is missing most from The Sands of Time, particularly if Bruckheimer expect this series to be the new Pirates of the Caribbean. But there’s none of the latter films’ quirkiness here, no bizarre but accessible characters and none of its self-aware charm. But crucially Gyllenhaal, though a fine actor, is no Johnny Depp and the lack of a compelling central character is the biggest barrier to the film’s success.
As a blockbuster summer adventure movie, The Sands of Time is only intermittently successful. While I was watching, I couldn’t help seeing it as a symptom of the increasingly strained relationship between the audience and the viewer, of films that cost so much money to make that they strive to appeal to every possible demographic and end up satisfying no one.
Take, for example, the need to make things complicated. This is fundamentally a kid’s film and yet the filmmakers feel the need for conspiracies and plot twists. The villain changes no less than three times, despite it being obvious from the start that Kingsley will be the eventual evil-supremo – he spends so much time wearing eyeliner and looking arch that it’s almost a relief when he finally reveals his nefarious plans. But it’s supposed to be a family adventure, with clearly defined good and evil. We don’t even get a band of heroes to cheer for until the closing minutes and their eventual demise is edited down to nothing; a better film would have milked a late-on sacrifice to tear-jerking climax but director Mike Newell is too busy rocketing towards the CG overload of the finale.
It would be easy to give The Sands of Time a pass as a mostly competent action adventure which raises the bar for game adaptations but is that really all we can hope for from our summer blockbusters? That they aren’t as bad as we were expecting? The action is pedestrian and edited into rarely coherent shreds and the central conceit of the film, the accursed dagger, actively negates any peril by leaving us assured that even death can be reversed. The heartstrings barely ripple as we see characters fall by the wayside, safe in the knowledge that they’ll return. Oh and the score blatantly rips off better themes from Pirates... and The Mummy.
Betrayed by their government and presumed dead, The Losers drop off the radar to try to escape from their past. But when the opportunity arises to strike back at the man who tried to kill them, they head home to steal back their lives.
Maybe I was foolish to look forward to The Losers. The polished trailer promised slick pyrotechnics and a some action-packed wit, while a browse of issue 1 of Andy Diggle’s comic promised a gritty revenge thriller with a fantastic array of hard-bitten characters.
The film starts well, despite feeling a pointless need to give us comic book panel versions of the leads, as our five man team waits in the jungle, guiding an air-strike in on the camp of an evil drug-lord. The one note code of honour as they break ranks to rescue a bunch of kids was fine, as was the escape through the jungle in a clapped out school bus and the resulting explosion. It was the cloying sentimentality as the kids are led to a rescue chopper that first weakened my resolve, while the event which directly followed shattered it completely with its vulgarity, leaving me reeling for all the wrong reasons.
And that just the first few missteps by the filmmakers. One minute, the leads will be beating the crap out of eachother as a sublimation of camaraderie or sex while the next Jason Patric will be launching people off buildings and shooting them in the face for laughs. The cast are appearing in wildly different films – Idris Elba thinks he’s in a dark drama, Patric’s in a Naked Gun film while Chris Evans is the comic relief in a competent action film. And Jeffrey Dean Morgan, so effective as The Comedian in Watchmen, is still in his trailer learning his lines while watching reruns of his better performance in ‘Greys Anatomy’.
It’s a shame because when The Losers is knee deep in a halfway decent set piece (admittedly all borrowed from the comic) and the ensemble cast are bouncing one-liners off each other it can be a lot of fun. But even then it too often shoots itself in the foot – first by choosing to go the PG-13 route (some violence and bad language would have least given it a little personality) and secondly due to the barely TV-worthy staging. Apart from the haphazard, freeze-frame heavy editing, each encounter is set up with a minimum of style and shoddy effects work, particularly in a last minute plane crash, further lessens the impact. Stomp the Yard director White simply doesn’t have the experience to wrangle this large cast and deliver a flippant actioner at the same time – instead opting to do neither.
The Losers had great potential as an early summer slice of mindless action. The cast is brilliant (though we would have swapped Elba with Morgan), it’s nice to see Saldana has some range and Chris Evans regains his mantle of a budget-range Ryan Reynolds. But Patric’s take on the supposed evil genius Max is insufferable and the film is scrappily directed. Maybe if co-writer Peter Berg had taken the reins we might have had another guilty pleasure like his underrated 2003 effort Welcome to the Jungle.
If you’ve got a problem, if no one else can help... stick with The A-Team.
When Robin Longstride (Crowe) returns to 12th Century England from the Crusades to fulfil a promise to a dying man, he finds himself trapped in a country destroyed by taxation and threatened with invasion by France. When the newly crowned King John begins to steal from his own people, the lords of the land unite against their crown – while a greater enemy lurks to the south.
Oscar-winning lead Russell Crowe and director Ridley Scott reteam for the fifth time for a take on one of the most enduring legends in English history. But this is not a story of Merry Men loose in the wilds of Sherwood Forest, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. This re-imagining steps back from that much adapted tale to give us a glimpse at the events which led to the birth of Robin of the Hood.
And who better to tackle a period action drama with a heady mixture of myth and history than the team behind the stupendous Gladiator and almost-worthy Kingdom of Heaven. Scott is a director who creates world’s that feel utterly real and Robin Hood is no exception. From the opening, tactically-rich siege of a French castle, through incredible recreations of medieval London and all the way to the massive final battle, the attention to detail is incredible.
More problematic is the story. While Scott and his gaggle of screenwriters should be commended for giving us a new perspective on the overly familiar tale they simply take their changes too far. The reason the Robin Hood legend has endured for so long is because it is a brilliant tale of a small band of adventurers taking on the might of the establishment. By widening the scope of the story, adding political intrigue and the possibility of French invasion, we lose the thrilling fight of the few against the many and the mythical tale of one man who tried to redress the imbalance between the wealthy and the impoverished (surely a timely theme).
This wouldn’t be such a problem if the period epic we are left with was a little more sprightly. At almost two and a half hours long, there’s little for the audience to sink their teeth into. The more realistic scale means it lacks the awesome spectacle of Kingdom of Heaven and the decision to make it suitable for little ‘uns means there aren’t even delicious scenes of dismemberment to keep us entertained. When Robin Hood ramps up to its historically-fabricated finale (a blatant, medieval version of the Normandy landings) it’s a pretty measly collection of drab soldier types, hacking away in bloodless fashion for a few moments before a hideously easy rout.
Crowe is fine as Robin, with an accent that occasionally takes a holiday around the north of England but there’s not enough meat on the Longstride character to keep the audience engaged. The cast arrayed around him is undoubtedly impressive but the character bloat means few are given time to distinguish himself – even the normally dependable Mark Strong flits by as a one note evil dude with a scar. It’s left to Cate Blanchett to steal the film completely; her Marion may be a little older than the norm but she looks absolutely stunning in the role and hits each emotional and mildly humorous note perfectly, selling the burgeoning romance with Longstride despite limited screentime.
Robin Hood is an attractive period epic which gets by on its performances rather than its spectacle. Scott’s attention to detail is impressive but the film often seems torn between a serious tone and some broad comedy – like Mark Addy’s Friar Tuck who attacks the invading French with bees and saucepans. There are marks of extensive trimming (a montage of towns sacked for taxes looks like something from the History Channel) and the fights are small, bloodless and lacking in any sense of peril. Ultimately, it lacks the enjoyable histrionics and spectacle of Gladiator and proves that the birth of the legend isn’t nearly as interesting as the legend itself.
Christopher Morris' feature debut is a typically controversial comedy about Islamic fundamentalism in which four Muslim's decide they want to send a message by blowing something up... they just aren't sure what or how. Four Lions is a brave attempt to use comedy to address the very real fears we have of suicide bombers, and Morris and co make some powerful points about the mindlessness of religious or idealistic zeal. It's terrifying to see this group of people who compare the chance to go to heaven to going on a ride at Alton Towers instead of being stuck in the queue and are quick to reference Mortal Kombat as a murder tutorial, working their way towards terrible violence. It's a shame that these potentially strong messages are smothered by a film that is more intent on reaching for farce than illumination. For what it's worth, there are many hilarious moments in Four Lions but the comedy is so broad that it's hard to see beyond it.
Freddie's back as the Michael Bay-owned Platinum Dunes production company takes another swing at a horror classic. We had relatively high hopes for this revamp, chiefly because the mechanics of the Nightmare series lends itself perfectly to movies which play with the expectations of the audience as much as the cast. 1984's Krueger was a maniacal trickster, flitting through the early scenes in a barrage of fun and often cheesy effects. 2010's version of the character has transformed into a staid movie monster - walking slowly through dank environments before boringly slashing his perma-tanned victims into mincemeat. The jumps are limp, belonging strictly to the cinema of loud noises = scary and an attempt to explain the psychology behind what is going on comes off as merely laboured pseudo-exposition. Worst of all, the kills are uninspired (though the final sting is a winner), the cast utterly forgettable and the modernisation of Freddie's crime more than a little distasteful.
Since outing himself as Iron Man, Tony Stark has become the world’s first openly active superhero – ushering the world into the longest period of peace it has ever known. When a senate hearing insists he hand over his potentially dangerous creations, he arrogantly suggests that no one else could possibly harness the technology. But when a mysterious man shows up at the Monaco Grand Prix and nearly kills Stark, it becomes clear that he can no longer keep Iron Man to himself.
As the sequel to the unexpectedly successful 2008 original, Iron Man 2 (it’s refreshing to not have a ridiculous subtitle) had some big shoes to fill and it does so pretty admirably. Rather than following the normal blockbuster sequel formula of the same, only bigger, it delivers a much more rounded, and slightly darker, experience than the first film. 2010’s Stark is boastful but secretly is slowly being crippled by the machines which have brought him so much fame. Robert Downey Jr. brings his trademark sparkle to the character and there’s more quirks here than you’ll find in a regular comic book film.
The best additions are not one but two villains, something which the first film almost omitted completely. Mickey Rourke’s Ivan (yes, really) is wearing way too much eyeliner and his finale is underwhelming but Sam Rockwell brings layers and laughter to flashy salesman of death Justin Hammer. Gwyneth Paltrow gets a more meaty role this time, Don Cheadle is a personality-free replacement for Terrence Howard and Scarlett Johansson looks great but is totally superfluous - her lone action scene feeling utterly tacked on.
As before, much of the charm of the film comes directly from Downey Jr's performance - even if the constant quippy behaviour is starting to seem repetitive. His motor-mouth is ultimately to the detriment of the film though, as it often gets so bogged down in comedy, exposition and ad-libbing fun that it neglects story progression or, more importantly, action. There are only two major action scenes in Iron Man 2 - the much publicised attack at Monaco and a lengthy, metal on metal finale. The first is sharply crafted, taking Stark out of his suit and putting him in real harms way in a smaller scale set piece that actually creates some token tension. The latter is a bloated series of nondescript suits hitting each other for 15 minutes, which manages to be even more insufferable than the vacuous ending fight in the first film. It's clear that director Jon Favreau has a knack for directing comedy but his action is dull and lacking in personality, geography or danger.
Iron Man 2 is a slightly deeper film than the facile original but also suffers from too many unnecessary characters and inexpertly-directed action. The cast is mostly fun and there are some solid comedy moments but those expecting an action-packed superhero extravaganza will be a mite disappointed.
Winner of Un Certain Regard at Cannes 2009 and Best Director at our own Dublin International Film Festival, Dogtooth tells the story of an unnamed family who live outside of normal society. While the father works in a factory office nearby, his wife and three grown children (known merely as Eldest, Youngest and Son) stay at home in a fabricated commune where the rules and even the language of everyday life have been turned upside down.
The film starts with a voice over where the meaning of words is described, a recurring theme which sees a salt cellar called a phone and a zombie transmuted into a small yellow flower. The corruption of language, and thus the ability of the children to cope outside of the home, is where the film starts – and it just gets more bizarre from there.
The Father has enlisted Christina, a worker at his factory, to help his son relieve some of his baser urges and her invasion into their closed loop of an existence is the catalyst for the Eldest daughter (Papoulia) to begin to question the rules which govern their tiny world.
Dogtooth is often an uncomfortable film, as the terrifying control which the Father wields become more and more apparent over time and the frank way in which he deceives, abuses and socially cripples his offspring is shocking. But underneath the explicit sex and violence, the most surprising thing about the film is the humour. The child-like ways of the young adults are perfectly captured and their twisted beliefs a constant source of hilarity – as in the moment when the Son first comes face to face with a cat or the messages from their so-called ‘grandfather’.
The performances are remarkably committed, particularly Papoulia (who is the main point of contact for the audience) and Christos Stergioglou as the unrelentingly creepy Father and the straight-faced presentation somehow manages to sell this bizarre family unit. It’s undoubtedly a film that requires patience to fully appreciate but once you get over the initial discomfort and buy into the world that has been created, Dogtooth is brilliantly wrought, terrifying and hilarious, all the way up to its shocking finale.
Arguably two of the funniest comics working today, Tina Fey and Steve Carell are a comedy match up made in heaven in Shawn Levy's Date Night.
Phil (Carell) and Claire (Fey) Foster are 40-somethings with good jobs, two kids and a slowly crumbling relationship, relieved by weekly date nights to a local eatery. When they find out that two of their best friends are divorcing, they begin to question what is holding them together and embark on a massive date in the city to try to save their marriage. But when they steal another couples reservation and are mistaken for a couple of thieves, their night turns out more interesting than they could possibly have imagined.
Date Night is a very likeable film - the plot is overcooked tosh and action-led attempts to break out of the linear comedy set-up are jarring - but the easy performances of the leads are always there to prop up the sagging direction. It's clear that much of the charm, and most of the laughs, come from the pairing of Fey and Carell - as a series of outtakes over the final credits see them adlibbing rings around the rather staid script.
With a more assured director and a higher age rating, this could have made a fantastic action comedy. As it is, there's barely enough content to fill the 80 minute run time, a bevy of underused cameos (Wahlberg is good but what was the point in having Ray Liotta, James Franco or Mark Ruffalo in there?) and some great comedy moments for the add-libbing leads. Fluffy fun.
This update does little to refine the haphazard plotting of the 1981 original as Perseus runs from one confrontation to the next, relying on divine intervention for progression; he not only gets an immortal guide (Gemma Arterton in monotone mode) but a series of godly gifts such as a sword and the use of Pegasus. This removes any sense of challenge from the proceedings, even as his mostly forgettable troop of eyeliner-wearing soldiers are whittled down – with only Mads Mikkelsen and local man Liam Cunningham making an impression.
Clash is the first major live-action film to be converted to 3D in the wake of Avatar and the result is mixed – non CG elements look like they’ve had a lazy second layer applied behind them while the introduction has the right effect but looks like it was rendered on a home PC. For what it’s worth, the action looks great but lacks any real emotion or pay-off; this is Perseus’ story but the camera rarely lingers with him long enough for us to feel like he’s in any real danger. The music is strong and the locations stunning but an uninspired lead, weak action and unconvincing 3D mar what could have been a fun mythical epic.
Dreamworks jump on the bandwagon with their first animated 3D offering about a young Viking (Jay Baruchel) who tries to prove himself by killing the most dangerous dragon in the land but ends up befriending the hulking, scaly, surprisingly puppy-like beast.
Dragon is a pretty average CG show – the animation is nicely stylised but not ground-breaking, the comedy pales in comparison to others in the genre and the action is fun but uninspired and a million miles away from the over the top brilliance of Kung Fu Panda (which, incidentally, would be fantastic in 3D). It also has some of the most lifeless voice acting we’ve ever heard in a cartoon – Baruchel barely seems awake in live-action movies but here he mumbles through every exchange and the only one who makes a real impression is chat show host Craig Ferguson. It’s left to the non-speaking characters to bring any charm to the proceedings and the host of dragons do that admirably but a little more personality wouldn’t have gone amiss. One for the kids.
Julianne Moore starts out spouting psycho-babble and ends up running from a generic monster in this thriller/horror offering from the writer of Identity. Shelter starts well, with Moore’s sceptical psychiatrist lured to a new patient exhibiting signs of multiple personality disorder, played by Jonathan Rhys Meyers. As he shifts from character to character and she begins to explore his background, the film toys openly with our expectations and layers on some creepy chills, enhanced by some excellent staging (like a scene which plays out in both day and night) and a surprisingly good performance from Rhys Meyers in his multiple roles.
Then Shelter, ironically, goes completely nuts – tearing down its twisty thriller facade in favour of cheap J-horror scares and an increasingly ridiculous backstory which loses the audience around the same time that a character converts a video image of black smoke into a sound wave using a home computer. A shame.
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