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jonpuck
Reviews
Casino Royale (2006)
Bland, James Bland
Before this was released, there was a lot of angry speculation about whether Daniel Craig had what it takes to step into the Bond shoes. But, in fact Craig seems to be the only one trying to make this a Bond movie. Craig plays Bond with his particular style of brutal vulnerability. He has always had the face of someone nursing an ancient wound that won't heal. And he does well with the material he has been given. Unfortunately, that isn't really very much.
The plot, which has to be one of the all time daftest, revolves around Bond stopping international terrorism by playing poker with its main financial backer using millions of pounds of British taxpayers money. Gosh, now there's a good plan! It's just crazy enough to work, as they say in Hollywood. It's really just an excuse for a whole lot of very tense casino footage with actors saying stuff like: "I'll see your 20 million and raise you another 20 million" all spoken through clenched teeth, presumably to stop themselves from giggling.
Possibly because it's all so ridiculous, the writers have tried to offset this by removing all the other customary Bond absurdities. There's none of the politically incorrect sleaze (Bond even falls in love for gods sake!). And no gadgets to speak of alas, no laser cuff links or jet propelled shoelaces. Even the action sequences look almost within the bounds of physical possibility. Gone are the days when Bond would think nothing of strapping himself into an evil experimental rocket-ship, still wearing his tuxedo. In place of all that, we're served up a wince-inducing torture scene straight out of 24.
The problem, as I see it, is that this has also removed a lot of the fun. This may well be a lean, mean Bond for our times, but it's Bond in name only. To be fair, the film is well made and Craig is (as always) engaging, but it could be about anybody. It's just not James Bond. When Craig speaks the immortal lines "Bond, James Bond", I simply didn't believe him.
The Night We Called It a Day (2003)
They should have called it a day a lot earlier
This is loosely based on events that occurred during Frank Sinatra's tour of Australia where, after referring to a female reporter as a "two-bit hooker" he was black-banned by the local unions.
Sadly, what could have been an interesting look at a clash of cultures, values and strong-willed individuals descends into something resembling a comedy sketch put on by a country repertory company.
Dennis Hopper does a stirling job as Sinatra, with very little directorial support. After a while you start to believe he is Ol' Blue Eyes. But virtually all the other characters are painted in the broad brush strokes of low farce.
Joel Edgerton plays the hapless promoter as a dim-witted surfer with a tendency to fall over or get beaten up in every second scene. Portia de Rossi is so loathsome in her role as the maligned journalist that I found myself cheering for Sinatra and the mob for most of the movie.
And, in a masterstroke of bizarre casting and makeup, David Field blithely appears on screen looking about as much like Bob Hawke as my mum. Moreover, he seems to have made a conscious decision not to even attempt Hawke's accent, nor any of his well known mannerisms. The overall effect is as if the producers had decided to cast Dame Edna Everage in the role and hope that no-one would notice.
Almost every Australian character in the film comes across as either a bumbling half-wit or a self-serving thug. I'm surprised Tourism Australia didn't try to have it banned. The sole exception is the delightful Rose Byrne who, as the love interest/voice of sanity, seems to have been beamed in from a parallel universe.
Lamenting the state of the Australian film industry is a national pastime. I think much of it stems from the industry's long love affair with 'daggyness' for its own sake. Who finds this quirky and endearing any more? It's just embarrassing, and the rest of the world obviously thinks so too. This film, with its woeful dialogue, wooden 'school play level' direction, zero character motivation and absurd plot, admirably demonstrates the problem.
The Lake House (2006)
Sexier than email
What a completely delightful surprise this movie is. This has to be the best romance flick of 2006. It's the story of Alex and Kate who live in the same lakeside house, but two years apart. They soon start communicating through letters left in the mysterious 'time portal' mailbox and, of course, they fall in love. Oh yeah, and they have the same dog.
They accept all this with amazing speed, and the script blissfully avoids any explanations as to how or why it is happening. My first theory was that it was all caused by the dog, but after that I just gave up and went along with it. Basically it's a sort of "You've Got Mail" with time travel.
Personally, I just love Keanu Reeves. I could watch him walk on screen and read the telephone book (even though you cynics think that's what his acting most resembles!). He has a unique presence that adds depth to any role he takes on. Sandra Bulloch is also particularly charming here.
There are some wonderful little touches from Argentinian director Alejandro Agresti and the cinematography and art direction are also just right, with clever use of colour to emphasize mood.
Leave any grumpy rationalism you may have at the door, and enjoy the ride.
The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (2005)
Crossing the border between men
Tommy Lee Jones' directorial debut rolls out the expected cast of redneck sheriffs, cheatin' wives and noble Mexican poor but thankfully nobody quite plays according to stereotype. This tells the story of Pete Perkins (played by Jones), a rancher who honours his promise to Melquiades, his illegal immigrant friend, to return his body across the border into Mexico to give him a proper burial in his 'hometown'. In tow, and very much under duress, is Mike (a stunning performance by Barry Pepper) the hapless border patrolman who accidentally shot him.
Almost from the outset things start to go clumsily wrong and they just don't stop. An early scene has Pete pouring beer over poor Melquiades' head and briefly setting him alight like a zombie Bombe Alaska, in order to prevent ants from eating him. Later in the movie Pete hits on the idea of pumping Melquiades with anti-freeze to preserve him. I was beginning to wonder if it wasn't all going to degenerate into a sort of "Weekend at Bernies" with cowboy hats. I shouldn't have worried, though. Jones and writer Guillermo Arriaga have created a small gem of a movie with a heart as big as the grand Texas country so beautifully filmed throughout. Everyone comes out of this sadder and wiser, including the audience.
Many people have made much of the political aspects of this film, but it feels to me to be more about personal choices. Sad, funny and grim "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada" is ultimately about empathy. Mike's closing words, just before the credits roll, show that he has finally come to see things from another man's point of view.