ftyl Reviews

Killing Them Softly (2012)

Brad Pitt and Andrew Dominik reteam for a Killing

[8/10 · 3 October 2012]

Australian director Andrew Dominik made a blistering debut with Chopper in 2000 before the suitably epic and problematic pause before his second feature, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford hit in 2007 – one of my favourite films of the last 10 years.

Never one to rush to his next project, Dominik is back with Killing Them Softly. Again based on existing material, in this case the 1974 novel Cogan's Trade by the late crime author George V. Higgins, it also sees the director once more penning the script and re-teaming with Jesse James lead Brad Pitt.

The script updates the action from the 70s of the novel to run concurrently with the final days of Obama's race for the presidency. His speeches of hope and the potential of the United States are intermingled with a base and grimy tale of two inveterate idiots who devise what they think is an elaborate plan to steal from the mob and frame someone else for the job.

It's this act, and the almost unbearably tense robbery scene, which sets up the rest of the film – forcing Brad Pitt's Jackie to go after those responsible.

Killing Them Softly is a film about death, the necessity of it at the darker edges of the world but also the way in which it can be seen as a mercy. When Jackie is told to rough up a potential culprit, he protests – if they're going to kill him anyway, why put him through the misery of a beating beforehand?

The title itself refers to the hit-man's philosophy on killing – a preference for taking his victims by surprise, sparing them the fear and anguish of facing their mortality.

It's this oblique attitude which sets Killing Them Softly apart from the identikit crime dramas which trickle through cinemas on a yearly basis. There's a humanity here, despite the criminal deeds at hand. Dominik also works hard to pepper the script with humour – some coarse but all adding up to the portrayal of these characters as more than mere engines for exposition and expiration.

Some of the best scenes in the film revolve around Pitt's all too frequent visits to his mob handler, played by Richard Jenkins. As the economic downturn hits, each and every expenditure has to be checked with the committee in charge. Decisions are caught behind walls of bureaucracy, to the embarrassment of Jenkins and frustration of Pitt.

This is Pitt's film through and through, from his superstar entrance accompanied by Johnny Cash's The Man Comes Around to the intensity of the finale. Jackie is a somewhat familiar man out of step with his time, disenchanted with the excess and stupidity of the people he has to work with. It's frequently a quiet performance but commanding, projecting the controlled power of the character without ever slipping into cliché.

The small cast is mostly peopled by character actors – Ray Liotta gets more to play with here than he has in years and Sam Shepard barely gets a look in. Jenkins is a delight while James Gandolfini provides some crime family credibility.Next to Pitt, it's the duo of Scott McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn who you'll spend the most time with and they do a great job of toeing the line between being likeably dense yet still expendable. Mendelsohn goes for broke as a grimy antipodean addict and McNairy has the harder role as a character you almost hope will make it.

Dominik forgoes the luminous Oscar nominated photography of Jesse James here in favour of dark and gritty lensing courtesy of Greig Fraser. The deeps blacks and rain wash the film into almost monochrome shades, highlighting the potential glint of a weapon in the darkness. The director also throws a couple of set pieces into the mix, including one heavily trailed hit that is rendered with all the slow motion style of a much bigger film and a visual highlight of the experience.

But Killing Them Softly is not about murder, it's about the miserable fate of the underclass and the cycle of behaviour which keeps them there. It's contrasted again and again (perhaps too heavily) with the hopeful message of Obama amid the collapse of the global economy as the mob, an organisation where money was never an issue, penny pinch in their dealings with life and death.

Andrew Dominik has crafted another classic with Killing Them Softly. More accessible than Jesse James and powered by a commanding performance from Pitt, it mixes dense, dark visuals with a curt humanism that sets it apart from others in the genre.

The Grey (2011)

A survival thriller classic in the making

[9/10 · 31 January 2012]

Director Joe Carnahan made everyone sit up and take notice with his blistering theatrical debut Narc in 2002. Coaxed into screens with help from Tom Cruise (who was one of the 20 plus producers on the film), it was an improbably gritty tale of a broken narcotics officer played by Jason Patric who comes up against more than he bargained for during the investigation into the death of a fellow policeman.

Carnahan seemed destined for the Hollywood big time, moving into pre- production on Mission: Impossible III with supposed buddy Tom Cruise but he soon left over creative differences. The director eventually returned to theatres with 2006's Smokin' Aces – a ridiculously over the top action film with few signs of the filmmaker who brought us Narc. And The A-Team has its moments, it seemed like the subtleties of the director had become lost in blockbuster filmmaking.

Well Carnahan fans, fear not. With The Grey, he's back and better than ever.

The film succeeds thanks to a masterfully wrought script from Carnahan, which is based on a short story by Ian Mackenzie Jeffers, who also contributed to the adaptation. The film pits lead character Ottway (Neeson) against the trials of the weather and the landscape and the horrors of a pack of ravenous wolves but also against himself. He has taken a job at the end of the earth, surrounded by the dregs of humanity, and feels like this is just the kind of hell he deserves. Ottway accepts his new situation with resignation and almost recognition. The wolves are a real adversary but also, fundamentally, represents the personal demons the character has been trying, and failing, to face.

Carnahan takes what could have been a staid action B movie with stock macho characters and forces the audience to see them as people. Sometimes bad people yes but human beings nonetheless who have a right to live one more day, even if its just to spend that time drunk or wallowing in whatever defective life choices they have made. He makes you feel each death in the film, feel the loss of another valued life.

An early moment sees Neeson's Ottway comforting a mortally injured man after the plane crash. It's a moment of total compassion, giving the dying man a glimpse of better times as his gore streaked hands search frantically for some contact. And he finds it, in the grip of another survivor. It's a simply stunning moment, something unexpected and powerful and makes the mention of an Oscar nomination for Neeson far from laughable.

The Grey is shot through with touches of startling subjectivity, lead by Ottway's frequent voice over. It introduces us to his world and makes it clear that we're experiencing everything from his perspective. This also gives Carnahan the chance to toy with some arresting imagery, like Ottway's wife lying next to him on a bed of snow, a recurring visual motif that keeps the character going, alongside a letter he has written to her. The character keeps it as a talisman, as a chance for reconciliation, of a life beyond this current circumstance and it serves to make us all the more hopeful of his survival.

Neeson is on top of his game here, unhindered by even a whisper of an accent, he digs deep to bring out the complexities of a man who has given up on trying to live a good life. His physicality is a boon as well and his worn and functional hands a constant feature – weapons and tools of survival. He may carry most of the dramatic weight of the film, but his supporting actors are uniformly excellent. While the dialogue sometimes falls into repetitive macho territory, there's depth to every major character, with Dermot Mulroney and Dallas Roberts doing solid work. Most memorable is Frank Grillo who had a small role in last year's Warrior. Here as Diaz, he takes what could have been a stereotypical semi villain and crafts a tremendous arc for the character.

Carnahan is intent on providing more than a mere action movie with The Grey but doesn't completely shirk those responsibilities. Everything from the bone-jarring crash to the finale is handled with a gritty attention to detail and some fast but never confusing editing. Set pieces occur infrequently and lack the bravura of blockbuster films but it's that intimacy which makes it all the more engaging, even terrifying.

Strangely enough, it's with the wolves themselves that The Grey almost falters. Brought to life with a mixture of animatronics and CG, they often looks less than convincing and are used far too often throughout. A handful of CG sequences are effective, and there's menace in the physicality of an on set model but these enemies are at their most terrifying when they're unseen – like a nocturnal cavalcade of howls, etched only in half seen plumes of lupine breath.

But it's a minor issue in a film which does so many things right. The Grey is possessed of a bleak beauty, projecting the chill of the Alaskan wastes right into the theatre. It is bold and brash and macho, while also presenting moments of powerful emotional weight and even addressing themes of spirituality and the constant closeness of death. And the ending, when it comes, is mere inevitability, coming to a head in a burst of finely wrought lyricism and an indefatigable drive to live just one more day.

Avatar (2009)

The best blockbuster in years - the master is back!

[9/10 · 15 December 2009]

It has been 12 years since Cameron unleashed the phenomenon that was Titanic and real fans would have to look as far back as 1991's Terminator 2 for their last proper dose of his incredibly epic action (True Lies, while fun, really doesn't count). So the anticipation for Avatar has long since reached fever pitch and beyond.

Thankfully for the patient masses, Avatar has turned out to be the biggest and best event movie of the year, perhaps the decade. The story is pure Cameron simplicity – a paraplegic ex-marine is given a chance to walk again through the use of a unique alien body, called an Avatar. It is his job to gain the trust of the natives so that a greedy corporation can steal the precious metal from their lush moon. Jake's (Sam Worthington) crippled main character is the perfect point of contact for the audience – not only is he new to the visual delights of Pandora but his disability means that every moment in his Avatar body is one of glorious freedom from the confinement of his chair. When the Corporations intentions become more sinister, Jake must choose between his new found place with the natives and his own race and fight for what he believes in.

Avatar combines parts of Pocahontas and Braveheart with a liberal dose of Space Marines into an epic whole that takes nearly three full hours to unfold. We could criticise that length, the weak story and the hammy dialogue. We could attack its thinly-veiled ecological message or the frankly bizarre spirituality in its second half but honestly nothing can spoil the experience while you are enveloped in it. And a large part of that is down to the brilliant use of 3D – which is both subtle and incredibly effective. Til now, we have been making movies with 3D elements, Avatar is the first truly 3D film and might well prove to be one of the most significant things to happen to blockbuster film-making since Star Wars.

Cameron is also pushing the envelope with truly photo-real CG – something which has been promised for years but has finally been delivered with Avatar. The interactions of the characters with the environment is incredible and the detail on the faces of the motion-captured leads (Worthington and Star Trek's Zoe Saldana) bring them to life. You will believe totally in their performances, representing another quantum leap in tools which have rarely been used for anything other than spectacle.

Make no mistake, Avatar is an important film from a technical standpoint but it is also great entertainment. The world of Pandora is a stunning spectacle from scene to scene and as Jake learns more about the Na'vi the film approaches the kind of light hearted adventure story which has been absent from movie theatres for years. Then the final act explodes into tragedy and desperate action, with the final half hour a blistering life or death struggle that has to be seen to be disbelieved.

Over the coming days you will be hearing a lot about Avatar, and some of the critical reaction is bound to focus on its weaknesses in a bid to appear appropriately reserved and objective. But this is not a film to be dissected or examined, rather one to be experienced with a warm crowd, a great sound system, in 3D as you bask in the knowledge that the movie-making master is back!

Gamer (2009)

GAMER - Almost but not quite...

[6/10 · 18 September 2009]

Alrighty so I've been waiting for Gamer for quite a while and what Neveldine and Taylor have pulled off is almost great in a lot of ways. The concept is good and for a change it has been executed by people who seem to halfway understand how these games and MMO worlds actually work. Even the story and the characters are strong and the bitter satirical tone works well with the impressive production design and solidly created near-future world. The main problem is that the Crank maestros didn't have enough faith in their creation and bombard the viewer with so much audio/visual garbage that it's often impossible to see what's going on – let alone enjoy the supposedly awesome action.

The brief moments of stillness come as welcome oases in the deluge – so much so that I found myself literally counting seconds without a cut as though they were some kind of cinematic nirvana. But before long we're off on another nonsensical chase scene or assaulted with more stroboscopic glimpses of quivering flesh. As in the recent Crank: High Voltage, the directors seem intent on playing to every base image they can cram onto the screen and while there's a certain amount of fun to found in their disgusting, deviant world view it simply gets in the way of making you invest in the world they are trying to create.

Still, I couldn't help but enjoy the sheer audacity of the vision – it's been a while since I've seen something this unique that actually had the courage to pursue its ideas to the (bitter) end. There are messages here too, touching on free will and the ever encroaching creep of internet based second lives but they aren't strong enough to leave a lasting impression. If Neveldine and Taylor grow up a little and realise that they can makes films for adults and not just horny, sugar high teenagers, we might finally get to see the gritty, visually unique action film I know they are capable of delivering.

G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra (2009)

When all else fails, they dress up in bondage gear and walk in slow motion...

[3/10 · 5 August 2009]

I like Stephen Sommers. Theoretically. I caught Deep Rising on video (yes VHS!) many moons ago and, apart from being shocked by the body melting effects, really enjoyed it. The film found the right balance between ridiculousness and thrills and stuck to it. Sommers' next, 1999s The Mummy struck that balance just as well, with a more kid friendly slant and was a near perfect summer action adventure, especially considering the gut wrenching disappointment that was The Phantom Menace. And then, with The Mummy Returns, the cracks began to show...

Sommers likes effects, this has always been clear and in his early films it could be considered a virtue, particularly in his fantastical re imagining of The Mummy tale. The sequel barely managed to keep its head above the flood of CG assisted smoke and mirrors and the knock on effect was to create more and more fanciful images. This reached its supposed peak with the unintentional horror show that was 2004s Van Helsing - with much of the running time composed of terribly animated, wire swinging sequences which defied logic, physics and good sense. Well, with G.I. Joe, Sommers has topped even that frustrating CG fest.

Pretty people in incredibly, perhaps dangerously, tight clothing do all manner of unlikely things in G.I. Joe. You've seen some of them in the trailer and in small doses they seem like fun but the reality is that, over two hours, it just creates a vicious, all encompassing boredom. So their suits make them more or less indestructible - how interesting. When did filmmakers forget that putting heroes in situations with absolutely no danger just neuters the whole experience. There is no vicarious thrill if we don't even slightly believe they could be hurt whilst jumping through a Parisian LUAS. And speaking of tentative Irish connections, there is a moment in this film where a token, shockingly unfunny black man realises his futuristic fighter jet has no firing controls. Then his colleague suggests that it might respond to voice commands. In Celtic. Cue Marlon Wayans murdering the pronunciation at 30,000 feet. And its not even played for laughs. You couldn't make this crap up.

The story is a mess of two many characters and blatant, on the nose exposition which makes the biggest mistake possible in a fantasy film - it never establishes the rules. As such, the audience is lost in a wildly vacillating tone which shifts from spastic humour to ultraviolence and small children beating the crap out of each other in seconds. The latter scene transplants a rough and ready kitchen fight scene into one involving children no older than 12. If Bruce Willis is barely dodging blades, fire and saucepans in a kitchen it is exhilarating. Here is just feels vaguely sinister and more than a little off-putting.

For what its worth, Channing Tatum seems to have potential as a leading man. Sienna Miller makes next to no impression, particularly when set against the genuinely stunning and surprisingly effective Rachel Nichols. Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje and Christopher Eccleston battle with shockingly awful versions of their actual accents (why?!) and Dennis Quaid smirks a lot in that way which makes him look like a stroke victim. The Paris sequence comes closest to making sense (as there is a clearly defined goal) and is almost engaging, though overlong and the final act borrows at first amusingly, then shamelessly from the end of Star Wars. Just transpose Arctic water for space and you can almost see the Death Star.

Bottom line - forget the reviews filtering through the net and go see The Hurt Locker instead. Its the best action film I've seen in years.

Anvil (2008)

Forged on the Anvil of obscurity

[9/10 · 24 March 2009]

Anvil! The Story of Anvil begins with testimonials from members of some of the biggest bands of all time; from Guns n' Roses to Metallica. They are all united in their praise for one group which served as an inspiration to each of them in the early 80s. That band was Anvil and footage from a massive concert in Japan shows them sharing the stage with Jon Bon Jovi and Whitesnake, destined to be just as successful as their peers. But it simply never happened. Sacha Gervasi's documentary traces the bands unfortunate history and catches up with them 30 years later, capturing the amazing story of their last-ditch attempt to snatch fame from the jaws of obscurity.

Lips and Robb have been playing music together since they were 14. Now in their 50s they have kept Anvil ticking over, supporting themselves with menial jobs and persisting despite the exasperation of their friends and loved ones. This is a band that really doesn't do it for the money but for the love of the music and the (sometimes disturbing) devotion of the few remaining fans. At this point, their commitment to Anvil seems relatively benign until Lips gets word from an Eastern European woman he met online (yes, really) that she has organised a full European tour for them and suddenly they see one final opportunity to give Anvil the success it deserves.

Anvil is an inspirational story of blind commitment and the bond between friends. Lips and Robb have complimentary but very different characters. Lips is the typically mercurial lead guitarist. Prone to violent outbursts and equally sudden, heartfelt apologies he is the heart of the band but also its biggest liability. Robb is his calm and Zen-like foil (with a penchant for scatological art) and their exchanges are never less than entertaining but are also surprisingly emotional. Lips' melodramatic, snivelling, lip quivering apologies are some of the highlights of the film, with Robb's increasingly uncomfortable reactions a joy to watch. If they ever decide to give up on Anvil (unlikely) they would make a great comedic duo. Indeed it is the humour of the movie which makes it most memorable, with a barrage of major and minor disasters on the European tour reducing the audience to speechless, breathless, hernia-inducing laughter.

Anvil's humour is tempered by a huge amount of respect, channelled through Gervasi's coverage of the band. He toured with them as a roadie in the 80s and his love for the guys and what they do can be seen in every frame. Even when their situation is being ridiculed it is never at the expense of the band and their determination shines through as their defining attribute. Gervasi's work behind the camera is extraordinary. Having such great, trusting subjects is certainly half the battle and the sheer cavalcade of bad luck which they attract is a bonus but Gervasi shows remarkable restraint in every aspect of the film-making, particularly the editing. The difference between a moment that is funny and one that transcends mere humour to become uncomfortable and even emotional is all in the editing and Gervasi knows exactly when to cut to make the movie most affecting.

There is a moment in Anvil! when the band arrives at an important gig already expecting it to be almost empty. Lips' voice-over combines his almost trademarked acceptance with the tiniest glimmer of hope – a hope which has never been totally extinguished in 30 years. As they walk through the tunnel to the stage there is a genuine surge of adrenaline and a moment of real emotion. As a viewer you desperately want things to work out for Anvil, just this once, and you will it to happen. That level of connection is rare in dramatic films and practically unheard of in documentaries but Anvil creates and holds that tension in a perfect cinematic moment.

Anvil transcends the sometimes niche position of the documentary to deliver a truly extraordinary piece of cinema. It combines the lasting afterglow of a great concert with that of seeing a fantastic movie in a single package which is touching, funny and hugely entertaining. Even if you abhor heavy metal, are generally ambivalent about documentaries and think you couldn't care less about this bands bizarre longevity – you simply have to experience Anvil!

Let the Right One In (2008)

'Twelve... more or less...'

[8/10 · 2 March 2009]

Let the Right One In (or Låt den rätte komma in the original Swedish) is an unusual coming of age drama set in snowbound Stockholm in the early 1980s. It tells the story of a boy on the razors edge of puberty and the trials of trying to rip a nascent adult from the restrictive cocoon of childhood. Oskar is a typical movie pre-adolescent – he doesn't really fit in at school and is perpetually bullied by his cruel peers, whose attacks are casually brutal in the awful way children can be. Oskar's life is further complicated by the separation of his parents; he splits his time between living with his mother in the city and the countryside haven belonging to his father. Increasingly frustrated by his life, Oskar has taken to carrying a knife and seems on the edge of violent reprisal. Then a mysterious young girl moves in next door and Oskar's world is forever altered. So much of Let the Right One In conforms to the standard rules of the pre-teen, coming of age genre. The broken home, the bullying and, most specifically, the mix of curiosity and burgeoning sexuality which defines those initial interactions with a member of the opposite sex. Eli is a mystery to Oskar, a truism only heightened by the strange life she lives – not attending school and living with a man who is old enough to be her father but who she never obeys. Her habits are not kept a secret from the audience, but the filmmakers are smart enough to not define her merely by her needs. As the two young, isolated people grow closer together, we hope for a happy resolution, even though we know how unlikely it will be. Despite its genre trappings, Let the Right One In never becomes a horror film. It has horrific moments and it is certainly not for children but the director, Thomas Alfredson, never forgets that his film is a drama and that the relationship of the children is the most important element of the piece. Combining themes of endless childhood, subsumed sexuality, casual violence and mesmerising performances from the 2 young leads, Let the Right One In is far more than the sum of its stereotypical parts. A sweet story of young love, with violent embellishments, wonderful effects and a healthy dose of the macabre – it is a gem in the increasingly stagnant horror movie genre.

Watchmen (2009)

We All Watch the Watchmen

[7/10 · 26 February 2009]

Let's get this out of the way - Watchmen the movie is not as good as the graphic novel.

Zack Snyder's Watchmen is not your average graphic novel adaptation. Unlike with 300, which was short and sharp and shallow and easy to adapt, the original Watchmen is incredibly dense and, as written, unfilmable. So Snyder did something very smart - he didn't even try. What he did instead was to take the world of Watchmen and rebuild it in a way which made a virtue of this new medium (film) rather than try to cram the graphic novel into a cinematic form.

Nowhere is this approach more obvious than in the film's title sequence. A wonderfully composed collage of images depicts scenes from the universe of Watchmen in a way which is only possible in the movies. In this way, we are subconsciously introduced to a world where costumed heroes are a part of everyday culture and brought, in a stylish and fluid way, from the original days of the Minutemen to those of the Watchmen. This introduction is cinematically perfect and is indicative of the heights which the Watchmen movie is perfectly capable of achieving but not quite capable of sustaining.

Watchen is a brave film for a major studio to make and without a doubt it would not exist in its present form without the success of 300. It is incredibly dark (both in tone as well as shooting style) with events that would be anathema to any other superhero story. The less you know about the story, the better so there will be no spoilers here but suffice to say Watchmen's version of a happy ending is a far cry from the Hollywood norm.

Snyders brings his unique approach to action to bear on Watchmen, expanding on the action scenes in the comic without making it feel too redundant. His efforts are ably supported by the incredibly game cast, excellent cinematography and near perfect visual effects - this film is incredible to look at but also manages to create an entire world in a way which most superhero stories never do. The attention to detail in even the smallest scenes is commendable and the dense flashback structure means the same attention is paid to the presentation of full and complex characters.

Snyder has made a film which is gorgeous to look at, agreeably violent, well written, wonderfully designed and features some of the best small scale action sequences ever committed to celluloid. But, naturally, not everything is perfect. Most of the performances are excellent, with a cast of relative unknowns who manage to distinguish themselves despite constantly competing with overbearing effects and design. Patrick Wilson, in particular, does great work with a difficult role as Nite Owl, while Jackie Earle Hayley is blistering as Rorschach. Unfortunately in a film which could have done with a strong female presence, neither Carla Gugino nor Malin Ackerman make much of an impression, despite having quite a lot of screen time. Synder's musical cues are another bone of contention - often pushing the tone of the film into the realm of parody. And the ending... well let's just say it cheapens the experience in search of the lowest common denominator and the whole package suffers. On a related note, neither of the stories major revelations are handled that well. These moments were genuinely shocking in the graphic novel but are almost glossed over in the film.

Don't get the wrong impression, Watchmen is a good film, sometimes a great film. Snyder has managed to make a movie which is a terrifically well balanced compromise between accessibility and fidelity. That anyone can sit down in the cinema and experience a distillation of the Watchmen universe in just 163 minutes is a marvel. It does not deliver the depth of feeling and connection of the novel but that is more a matter of the differences in the media than a failure on the part of the film.

On its own merits, Zack Synder's Watchmen is a dark and twisted tale peopled with complex characters whose motivations are not obvious even to themselves. It is a solid film, sometimes rising into the extraordinary, and deserves to be successful. This is not Alan Moore's Watchmen but it is a competent extension of the universe into another medium and a worthy cinema-going experience.

The Wrestler (2008)

Reality cannot be wrestled with

[8/10 · 1 February 2009]

The Wrestler is without a doubt Darren Arronovskys most straightforward films to date and proves that he has the talent to handle a wide range of genres and styles, a skill which David Fincher may not have in light of his uneven Benjamin Button. Here, Mickey Rourke plays an aging professional wrestler who is lost in some no man's land between his 80's hey day and the realities of his bruised and broken 21st century self. After a brutal bout, The Ram's body betrays him and he ends up alone and battered by life, trying to recover from a heart attack. Unable to compete in the ring and alienated from everyone around him, he reaches out to a sympathetic stripper (Marisa Tomei) and makes a last attempt to connect with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood). The Ram is approached for a high profile rematch with a former foe and he must choose between a potentially fatal return to the ring and the tiny, nascent possibility of a real life which he has carved out for himself.

Much has been made of the parallels between Rourke and The Ram but making that connection takes away from the sterling work by Rourke. He inhabits the character totally – no doubt helped by his increasingly bizarre features (he underwent reconstructive surgery after a short lived boxing career) but also bringing a strange naïve sweetness to a difficult role. For The Ram, it is life outside of the ring that is hard, the everyday is not subject to the rules and controls which exist in a wrestling match. And, most telling of all, you always know who is going to win in a wrestling match – in real life it is never certain. Even when Randy's life is going well, there is always a sense of fatalism, the sense that he cannot allow himself to succeed because he is too afraid of not knowing what will happen next.

Alongside Rourke, Tomei gives a good performance, although she is far too attractive for the role of a forgotten stripper. Seeing the two of them together comes across as aspirational rather than real, an anomaly in an otherwise naturalistic film. Likewise, Rourke's relationship with his daughter, though heartfelt, is spiked with too much cliché to be truly engaging. She is the hate-filled daughter who grew up without a father while he plays the immature, absentee dad who lost his way in a multitude of character flaws. These elements weaken the film to some extent but are generally forgivable – especially in light of the fact that Wood features in some of Rourke's strongest scenes and she holds her own very well for such a young actor.

One of The Wrestler's greatest assets is its camera-work by Maryse Alberti. Fluid and almost documentary style, it also manages to be a commentary on theme and character. Often when Rourke is walking to a new location, the camera follows close behind, hand-held. This deliberately apes that oft-used shot of a fighter on the way to the ring, enhanced by the claustrophobic corridors he walks down, mirroring those underneath a stadium. This connection is made literal as Rourke walks in one long take to the deli counter, with crowd noises on the soundtrack. Rourke literally treats every moment as though he were on the way to the ring, and this is another subtle indication of his inherent immaturity and fear of reality. When faced with another life, he retreats – even going so far as working in the same dead end job for fear of being forced to grow up. Rourke's man child is pathetic, selfish and broken but in the ring he is loved, adored and lauded for not growing up. It is an escape for the character and not fundamentally different from the many ways in which we all escape from responsibility and the vicissitudes of reality.

The Wrestler is a strong and simple film about a deeply flawed and powerfully sympathetic character. Rourke's performance is mesmerizing and his envelopment in the character complete. As the film ends and Bruce Springsteen's 'The Wrestler' plays over the credits we cant help but wish that things could have worked out better for The Ram but the fact is, outside of the ring, no one ever knows who is going to win.

Ghost Town (I) (2008)

Gervais shines out of the office...

[7/10 · 22 December 2008]

David Koepp has proved himself a capable director and Ghost Town is probably his most well rounded film to date, with both Secret Window and Stir of Echoes having trouble balancing their supernatural elements. Doing double duty as writer and director, he gets a lot of mileage out of a rather standard romantic comedy plot.

I've never been a fan of Ricky Gervais in any forum, be it stand up or his TV shows – which seem to be based on vicarious embarrassment rather than genuine wit. Mainly, he always seemed to come across as a bit of an arsehole. In Ghost Town he plays a socially awkward dentist who shuns company and is openly rude to everyone he comes in contact with. His favourite part of his job is the fact that his patients spend 90% of their time unable to speak. After a near death experience, Gervais finds that he can now see and hear the dead and, in a city as large as New York, is suddenly inundated with requests from the denizens of the afterlife. One such ghost, played by Greg Kinnear, has some unfinished business with his widow (Tea Leoni) and sets out to convince Gervais to help him so that he can find some peace.

So far, so standard. Guy has to get close to girl for an ulterior motive and ends up falling for her. Ghost Town even recycles the Cyrano De Bergerac conceit of having Kinnear prompt Gervais with lines designed to sweep Leoni off her feet. What elevates this film is not so much the humour (which is consistently well written) but the performances and the moments of drama which underscore the comedy. Gervais is perfectly cast as a man who has retreated from society not out of misanthropy but fear of more pain and loss. His timing is excellent and his ability to move from comedy to drama genuinely impressive. Leoni works well as his quirky foil and the two have surprisingly good chemistry. The supporting cast are generally good but this is really Gervais's movie and he performs admirably with some challenging material.

As a story, Ghost Town is nothing new. It reaches a predictable conclusion and gets there with a minimum of fuss. It is well polished entertainment and proves that Keopp is getting better with practice and that he has some flair for more light-hearted comedy fare. The film is sweet without crossing over into the saccharine, sharply funny and sad in an empathic way which mostly avoids melodrama. Gervais couldn't hope for a better introduction as a leading man and his performance is the heart (and lightly mean-spirited soul) of the movie.

Recommended.

Pride and Glory (2008)

Blood ties and endless shades of grey...

[9/10 · 7 December 2008]

Pride and Glory overcomes the clichés of the cop drama to emerge as one of the best films of the year. Raw and real, it recalls Narc in its gripping tale of fathers and sons and the insidious creep of corruption. Colin Farrel acquits himself well with a difficult role but Edward Norton steals the show with his best performance in years. Jon Voight also surprises in a role which makes good use of his stature and brings back the memory of the screen presence he once had. It is to the credit of the cast and director that every part seems entirely fleshed out and real, with perhaps the most effecting coming in a minor turn by Jennifer Ehle as the cancer ridden wife of one of the sons.

Technically, the movie makes the most of the natural grit of its location photography. There are a few long, accomplished steadicam shots here but they are unobtrusive - serving the story rather than the ego of the director (Scorsese, I'm looking at you). The music, from the underrated Mark Isham, is also very effective and subtle, becoming fittingly more dramatic as the movie nears its conclusion. Pride and Glory just feels solid - as though the proper time was taken to really work every aspect out properly (a feeling which was wholly absent from Quantum of Solace, for example). It is really refreshing to see every member of the cast and crew give their best to a project and the results speak for themselves.

Sterling performances aside, Pride and Glorys script (co written by Narc writer/director Joe Carnahan) is also extremely effective, slowly unfurling a dense and dark tale of power, greed and the dramatic effects which come from being a family of cops. This is not a mystery, the truth of what has happened is revealed very early on but a dozen shades of grey make determining the real villains of the piece a far more difficult task for the audience. Pride and Glory is one of the tightest scripts in recent memory, with each element coming together in a way that recalls the symmetry of Greek tragedy, if not its frankly distracting excesses. The pace and power wanes a little towards the end as the whole thing spirals towards lumpen melodrama but the resolution, when it comes, is fitting and manages to sidestep cliché at the last moment.

After several years in development hell and a further delay in releasing to theatres, Pride and Glory seemed to come and go in a flash. We can only hope it finds its deserving audience on DVD.

Highly Recommended.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008)

Zack gets Miri Knocked Up...

[5/10 · 7 December 2008]

Kevin Smith is a talented writer and no doubt an intelligent man but his latest so called comedy is an exercise in overcomplicated cliché which dodges any possible entertainment value in its premise to deliver a tired, meandering love story.

Seth Rogen continues his one man quest to drown considered and witty comedy in an excess of improvisation. Improv implies mental and verbal dexterity - responding to situations with speed and verve. Here Rogen is just making stuff up as he goes along. This kind of interplay is annoying in films like the Pineapple Express (listen to the last conversation in the diner - three actors say nothing of consequence for almost 10 minutes) but in a Kevin Smith film, it is a travesty. Smith may be overrated as a director but his writing - in particular his one liners - are always clever and often inspired. Ben Affleck works in a Kevin Smith film because he does what he is told and the script makes him hilarious. By the same token, Rogen ruins Zack and Miri by neutering Smiths zingy dialogue with constant attempts at his own hilarity.

Zack and Miri is all the more disappointing because there are whispers of a better film here. Justin Long's cameo is inspired, recalling Val Kilmer in Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and Jason Mewes steps out of his Jay and Silent Bob persona enough to show he is capable of real screen presence. The supporting cast are generally excellent and Elizabeth Banks does well with her difficult role as Miri. For me, the real problem remains Rogen and, by extension, the Judd Apatow baggage he brings along with him. Apatows films are carefully plotted, often with very simple central stories, which gives the actors space for improvisation. In this environment, actors like Steve Carrell (and to a lesser extent Rogen) flourish. By contrast, Smiths best films are dense ensembles with a vaguely connected series of events requiring very strict focus by the actors to maintain any semblance of order. When Smith takes on a premise like Zack and Miri and peoples it with Apatow alumni like Rogen and Craig Robinson it loses all semblance of form and effectiveness.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno has courted controversy with its sex scenes (which are few and by no means explicit) and title but will be more remembered as the moment when Smiths sentimentality overcame his talent. The film lies in a no mans land between the View Askew universe and Judd Apatow territory but doesn't measure up to the weakest offering from either. Finally, Zack and Miri Make a Porno just isn't very funny and that, given the pedigree involved, is the most disappointing thing of all.

Burn After Reading (2008)

Burn Before Watching

[4/10 · 31 October 2008]

After No Country for Old Men the Coens brothers no doubt had free rein (and a blank cheque) for their next project. That they chose to waste that potential on something as flaccid and underwhelming as Burn After Reading is bitterly disappointing and proves once and for all that the brothers are not as talented as we would like to believe.

Burn After Reading is about morons and, not incidentally, that also seems to be its target audience. It is a clichéd ensemble piece - a panoply of characters are introduced which appear to have no real connection between them and slowly the links are revealed. This simplicity would be forgivable if there were a single charming or clever element in the piece but sadly it all seems like a bad joke. The characters are composed of nothing but ticks and grimaces; McDormand looks like she is in a no man's land between 2 minor strokes (and is eerily reminiscent of Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka) while Clooney confirms that the sum of his comedic acting ability is his willingness to contort his face. Pitt is the only major player who comes off more or less unscathed (he seems to embrace the absurdity, rather than trying to act through it) but his role is too minimal to save the film. The script is unwieldy, veering from confusing to overly simplistic and has a somewhat puerile sexual focus.

Good points are few are far between. The supporting players are generally good - with J.K. Simmons and Richard Jenkins especially memorable. Indeed the formers interactions with his intelligence community subordinate, as they try to figure out what the hell the main characters are up to, provide the films only consistent humour.

Burn After Reading is a black comedy with too much milk and sugar - the result is anemic and lacking the grown up sensibilities of the brothers' better films. Fargo, for example, is extremely funny at times but laces that humour with a real sense of human desperation and a respect for the audiences intelligence.

It seems pretty obvious to me that this film would not exist without the success of No Country for Old Men, a film which I thought was effective but rather overrated. Perhaps if more people had felt like I did we wouldn't have had to suffer through this flat, laugh free 'comedy'.

Burn After Reading is about morons, for morons and (quite possibly) made by morons. Avoid.

The Midnight Meat Train (2008)

Lots of meat but no filling...

[5/10 · 16 October 2008]

The Midnight Meat Train is the latest film to be (however indirectly) associated with Clive Barker. This used to be a good thing, especially between the time of Hellraiser (1987) and Candyman (1992), but as both spiralled into the depths of serial trash (Hellraiser is on its 9th iteration) he has become more associated with sub standard slasher films. Whatever you may think of his garish and brazenly obscene writing style, the themes he confronts are strong and generally quite cinematic – voyeurism and the clash of the ordinary with the extraordinary, as well as perennial favourites fetishism and sadomasochism.

The Midnight Meat Train tells the story of Leon Kaufman (Bradley Cooper), a photographer who, in looking for inspiration for his work, is drawn to the subway in the pre-dawn hours. Initially hooked by a minor brush with the darker side of the city (he stops a gang from assaulting a girl) he is invigorated by the experience, and delves deeper. Here he find a mysterious man (Vinnie Jones) who rides the shrieking metal subway cars alone at night. Intrigued by the man's forbidding presence and spurred on by the praise he receives for his latest series of photographs, Kaufman returns to the unending night of the subway, determined to explore this terrifying and exhilarating new world beneath the sleeping city.

The movie is adapted from a short story in Barker's Books of Blood and, apart from the now customary producer credit, that is where his involvement ends. This is a real shame, as the material added to expand the script to feature length could have done with some of his inspired mix of squeamishly detailed viscera and surprisingly subtle characterisation. The story made a virtue of its brevity – requiring no set up and building to a pay off with minimal fuss (and maximum bloodletting). The script, however, loses itself early on in its frantic, almost childish need to play with your gag reflex. The opening scene is liberally slathered with agreeably viscous blood, and before the film is half over we have seen eyeballs knocked out of sockets (then stepped on), heads mashed with hammers and have careened through a skull in bullet time before exiting through the eye (eyes in general have a pretty hard time of it in The Midnight Meat Train). Likewise Kaufman's descent, literally and psychologically, comes off as half-baked. His morbid, possibly self-destructive curiosity is a familiar theme that can be effective but here there is not enough set up to make the journey believable. There is no attempt to explain exactly what would make him seek out these extra-curricular thrills. Indeed, his life with his girlfriend (Leslie Bibb, trying valiantly to wring something from her meagre material) is painted as pretty idyllic. The film also settles into a formula far too quickly: a kill scene is followed by a scene with the couple at home, as a counter-point to the supposedly harrowing gore and violence. Then there is some investigation, some minor stalker/slasher interplay between Jones and Cooper and another disjointed, unnecessarily explicit horror interlude. The ending shakes things up a little, and it builds to a suitably despairing denouement, but by then its effectiveness has been so diluted by 90 minutes of on camera vivisections and Coopers surprisingly placid performance that the final credits merely seem like welcome respite.

It's not all bad though. The premise and the idea of the ending, coming directly from Barker's story, are a cut above those of your average horror film and a testament to the strength of the original. Likewise, the direction (by Versus helmer Ryuhei Kitamura) is certainly energetic and his cacophony of camera angles, speed changes and in-camera effects are enough to keep you awake during the films slower moments. Unfortunately this over-the-top style – combined with some unnecessarily flamboyant (though generally well integrated) CG – also has the effect of negating any real sense of tension or unease in the few moments of the film that attempt to create suspense. The cinematography is crisp and manages to make itself stand out a little from the horror crowd, preferring stylistic (though perhaps a little too smoky) compositions to the gritty and grainy semi-realism of some recent offerings. The music is extremely jarring – reaching almost laughably frantic levels during the final fight and overpowering any scene which does not heavily feature the sound of metal on bone. As for the performances, Cooper's Kaufman is all grimaces and curiously underplayed, while Jones remains mercifully mute but generally looks more mystified than mysterious.

The Midnight Meat Train is another let down for Barker fans and, unfortunately, for horror fans in general. You may, if you are so inclined, get some enjoyment from the kill scenes – which are at least agreeably the other side of PG-13. You may also experience a little Outer Limits style shudder of approval at the ending that might make you reconsider your next nocturnal subway ride. But, ultimately, there simply isn't that much to The Midnight Meat Train and it is destined to ride the mediocre movie midnight train alone into obscurity.

Rogue (2007)

Smarter than your average creature feature...

[7/10 · 30 September 2008]

Greg Mclean's follow up to Wolf Creek is much more than another belaboured creature feature. It is a wonderful exercise in well-crafted tension, avoiding the horror movie pitfalls of staid and superfluous splatter. The plot is simplicity itself but the direction and generally naturalistic performances keep it from falling into cliché. The initial gentle pacing leads to a genuinely thrilling middle act, with a truckload of tension-creating devices slowly exerting more and more pressure on the dwindling human snacks.

The practical effects are squeamishly impressive and a pulsing vein of pitch black humour provides expertly timed release between the thrills. As with Wolf Creek, Mclean captures the terrifyingly isolated beauty of Australia, with every insect intact and the sense of unrelenting heat truly palpable. Unfortunately, the final act disappoints – having neither the careful pacing nor the plausibility of the previous hour. This, combined with some slightly distracting creature CG, means Rogue is not quite a classic but it has a lot more to offer than the average Hollywood fare.

Taken (I) (2008)

Taken is a series of violent sequences in search of a plot

[5/10 · 28 September 2008]

In Taken, Liam Neeson plays an overprotective father with a violent past whose paranoia is proved right when his daughter is snatched while on a trip to Paris. Mere hours later he is on the ground in the French capital, determined to find his daughter and punish those responsible. What follows is a haphazard series of fights, interrogations, car chases, more fights, several smashed windpipes and an ending totally at odds with the film which preceded it.

The action should have been harsh and brutal and while it is sometimes effective it is crippled by being framed too close and by the PG-13 rating. Who thought that a film dealing with violent revenge, dozens of deaths, torture and prostitution rings should be watched by people in their early teens?

Taken is all the more disappointing given the talent behind the camera. Luc Besson may not always come up with masterpieces when he's credited as a writer, but he can usually be relied on to churn out something that is fast paced and fun (Unleashed, The Transporter, etc). Likewise the director, Pierre Morrell was last responsible for the ridiculous but exhilarating free running action of District 13. Yet together they have managed to come up with one of the most underwhelming action films in recent memory. As for Neeson, he handles the few emotional scenes with his usual impressive restraint and, with his size and reach, looks like he might actually pack quite a punch in real life. But when the action pulls out a little and he's forced to run or throw himself through the air to avoid a hail of gunfire his 6'4" frame just looks unwieldy and slow – essentially a really big, easy to hit target. There are also endless moments where Neeson suddenly appears behind another nondescript soon-to-be-corpse which always made me wonder what magic massive closet he had found to hide himself in. He is fine when he's hitting things and emoting but I think his career as an action star will be rather short lived.

I wanted to like Taken. It had potential as a gritty revenge film with the realistic action so popular since the advent of the Bourne series. Neeson is always a likable lead and the Besson pedigree with the French setting should have worked in its' favour. Unfortunately, the weakness of the story and random, unmotivated nature of the violence is simply boring, the potential wasted. Taken also shoots itself in the foot with its choice of subject matter. By delving into the subject of kidnapping tourists for prostitution it appears as though initially Morrell and Besson have some moral lesson for their audience. It soon becomes clear that they were merely looking for a backdrop for the action and the ugly stereotyping of the Eastern European characters in the film is irresponsible, even for a film of this type. Also, for a film rated suitable for young people, the lessons imparted by the hero are less than reassuring – if something bad happens to someone you love you really have no option but to kill dozens of people mercilessly until you reach some kind of resolution. This is fundamentally at odds with the initial plot of the film, as Neeson is trying to leave his past behind in an attempt to reconnect with his teenaged daughter (played with vapid gawkiness by Maggie Grace – proving her vacuous performance in Lost was not an accident). I'm not suggesting every film should have a blatant message of peace and love and there's no denying that nihilism can be cool but when it is taken to this level it has an effect on the overall coherence of the film.

Disappointing and bland, if this film was kidnapped in a foreign country I'd leave it there.

Transsiberian (2008)

A thrilless thriller...

[6/10 · 24 August 2008]

Brad Anderson is one of those directors who everyone thinks they like until they look him up. Since getting attention with his creepy (but unsatisfying) Session 9 in 2001 his only feature of note was 2004's The Machinist - a movie which will always remain more famous for the extraordinary physical transformation of its star (Christian Bale) than its effectiveness as a creepy thriller. This is partly because Bale's emaciated form was genuinely mesmerising but mostly because the movie just isn't very good. So, after a few years directing TV episodes, Anderson had something to prove with his latest - Transsiberian.

I've never really thought of Emily Mortimer as a leading lady. She's always seemed either hopelessly insipid or appears to be battling some unrecognisable accent and a cold at the same time. It may come as a surprise then to learn that she is one of the best things about Transsiberian but unfortunately that statement comes with a number of disappointing caveats. In the film Mortimer and a mis-cast, toupee sporting Woody Harrelson play a husband and wife heading home to the US after completing charity work in China. In a decision which screams 'bad choice' to the ever watchful audience, they forgo a simple flight home in favour of the famous 8000 km rail journey through the snowlocked Russian wastes. Hence the title of the film.

What results is billed as a twisty action thriller, with multilayered secrets and lies and the familiar device of a claustrophobic location surrounded by scenic wilderness. This may not sound particularly original but, done well, it could amount to an enjoyable few hours of escapism. And, in fairness to the film, it starts well – meandering slowly through the mystery laden landscape of character development, planting seeds of murky histories and maintaining a convincing sense of unease and displacement – 2 American tourists in the time warp of undeveloped Russia. Events occur in a fashion that makes sense, uncomfortable situations get steadily worse and, around the time Ben Kingsley shows up as a Russian detective, everything seems on a wonderfully dramatic collision course with the revelations of the final act.

But then the 'twists' begin. Not twists in the normal thriller sense of the word but closer to the M Night Shyamalan meaning ie: twists that spoil a perfectly watchable film. The final act of Transsiberian dispels any sense of tension and unease by blowing the films internal logic to smithereens. I'm not suggesting for a second that the follies here are on the level of the denouement of Signs (or the entirety of Lady in the Water), but they do manage to bring the films momentum to a halt. Both The Machinist and Session 9 had problems with their endings, Anderson seems to believe that if everything doesn't reach an overedited fever pitch he isn't doing his job correctly. This is a shame as the deliberate but inexorable pacing of the plot was one of the films strong points.

Ultimately, Transsiberian is a missed opportunity. Some good performances and impressive cinematography are not enough to smooth over the eccentricities of the final act. It cannot maintain the tension well enough to be a thriller but is too mild to fall into the category of suspense/horror. If it is a drama about the fate of foreigners abroad then why does it descend into near Outer Limits territory towards the ending? Brad Anderson may well have potential as a talented filmmaker but so long as he continues to make films which are only halfway effective he will remain in that halfway obscure list of directors-you-have-to-look-up-on-IMDb.

Postal (2007)

Where did you get all the monkeys...?

[5/10 · 24 August 2008]

Postal is the latest movie from the much maligned German director Uwe Boll. It is, like every film he's made since 2003's House of the Dead, based on a video game and, also like that film, has very little in common with its' source material. Postal follows a rather unique day in the life of a recently sacked factory worker (Zack Ward) who starts out at a job interview and ends up trying to save the human race. Along the way he is aided and thwarted (mostly the latter) by an eclectic mix, including: a bunch of bloodthirsty townsfolk, a cult comprised almost entirely of scantily clad models, terrorists, homicidal policemen, a dwarf who voices a popular (genital shaped) kids toy, Osama Bin Laden and … Uwe Boll! There is no real plot – the action proceeds from location to location seemingly on a whim as the Postal Dude's day becomes more and more bizarre.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that I've been a champion of Boll's work but, unlike most critics, I've actually watched most of his English language films rather than just jumping on the bandwagon and automatically deriding him. Most are mediocre, and some are stupefying awful (yes In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale, I'm looking at you) but the man is an industry unto himself and, until recently, was making a very healthy business out of it. With Postal, Boll has wisely returned to the openly ridiculous style of House of the Dead, while also turning the comedy dial up to 11. This, coupled with the complete disintegration of any sense of moral decency delivers what can most favourably be described as a unique film.

Boll gets many things wrong here, but the tone, while being his greatest liability, also manages to be his greatest strength. What works here works really well and the way the film unfolds is strangely mesmerising – you literally cannot guess what will happen next. Nothing is sacred and this approach is so all encompassing that he can't help but hit the mark from time to time. The humour vacillates from quite effectively satirical to utterly tasteless. I would one day like to meet the people who find scatological gags funny. Actually I wouldn't like to meet them but I would be willing to help sponsor the creation of a gulag just for them. Occasionally, to its detriment, Postal crosses the line from tasteless to misanthropic – a moment involving a baby carriage and a fast moving truck comes to mind. However for the most part the content, while undoubtedly crude and misguided, is surprisingly good natured. No segment of society is particularly targeted and Boll's willingness to make fun of himself (literally) is quite refreshing.

The performances are generally serviceable and sometimes effective. Ward does a good job with some difficult material and manages to strike a balance between playing the clown and the action hero. Verne Troyer is memorable in a bit part which manages to not be demeaning (despite the excessiveness of his eventual fate) and JK Simmons pops up in a strangely unobtrusive cameo. Boll has a reputation for making even talented actors seem terrible (Ray Liotta, get a new agent) but the cast here do a fine job. And even when they don't, the ridiculousness of the plot and the lightness of the overall tone makes the film practically immune to criticism.

Postal is without a doubt Uwe Boll's most accomplished movie to date. Some people would say that's like the difference between doing a frontal lobotomy with a fork or a spoon but it doesn't change the fact that it represents some maturation in his work. It is by no means a great film, nor by most standards a good one, but it has such boundless, manic energy that you can't help but get caught up in it. The film is like a huge, mentally challenged, blood-soaked, foul-mouthed Labrador. With a gun. And nuclear weapons. If you are willing to give it a chance and get in the right mind-set (possibly some substance abuse might be helpful) then Postal is a bit of nonsensical fun.

It is also a film in which our hero uses a cat as a silencer.

Yes you read that right.

Enough said.

Redbelt (2008)

'Where can I strike you...don't stand there'

[6/10 · 18 August 2008]

David Mamet has had a rather checkered history on the silver screen. As the man responsible for the screenplay of Glengarry Glenross and the director of minor classics like Heist he was rightly praised but rambling misfires like Edmond and the taut but slightly ridiculous Spartan have made his move from the theatre less than seamless. Mamet's latest is Redbelt, for which he assumes writing and directing duties, and it is a mixed bag – indicative of his obvious talent as a storyteller but also his continued unease with the medium of film.

Redbelt tells the story of a martial arts teacher who, through a series of events, becomes embroiled in a morally bankrupt world where his way of life, his personal unwavering philosophy, is threatened. It is an archetypal story in many ways: the lone man with an unbreakable code, often associated with violence but somehow not corrupted by it. Archetypes in movies are necessary, they create shortcuts for the audience, allowing them to accept and understand characters and situations almost instantly. Problems arise when these shortcuts are also adopted by the filmmakers. In Redbelt, the main character is archetypal and nothing else. He is a cipher for the misunderstood hero; reacting to each situation in the most clichéd way imaginable. This would be forgivable if the lead was Steven Seagal or Jean-Claude VanDamme and if we were living in the 90's but its not and we aren't. As discerning movie-goers we demand a little more of our martial arts spiced character studies, and Mamet seems unable to deliver.

The worst part is that the movies faults are not that apparent. While the construction of the main character is undoubtedly flawed, Chiwetel Ejiofor performance is simply mesmerising. He projects a palpable sense of restrained power and wisdom, and this is just the latest in a string of memorable roles. Let's hope that it gets him the attention he deserves. Likewise the martial combat (when it happens) seems relatively fluid and real, at least by comparison with the stroboscopic editing of most contemporary action. The film is also nicely shot and peppered with a cast of impressive names. But technical competence and a single standout performance are not enough to save this film from its fate of curious mediocrity.

The Confession (2008)

A simple tale, impressively told

[10/10 · 5 August 2008]

Bless me father for I have sinned...

The Confession combines a simple story with exceptional technical presentation to create a short that is truly more than the sum of its parts.

A local lad goes to church to confess his sins to the priest, what follows comprises the plot of The Confession.

To describe the story further would merely dampen its effectiveness but suffice to say it is well acted, wonderfully shot and (a virtue many short and feature films forget) knows not to overstay its welcome.

If you happen to come across it at a festival be sure to check it out.

Felon (2008)

Gripping

[7/10 · 23 July 2008]

Felon is a simple, familiar story of a man who is betrayed by the rule of law and finds himself alone in the microcosm of the prison system. The set up is simple but effective and the film is devoid of the usual forced theatrics of prison movies. The focus is not on a thrilling escape attempt or a courageous quest for redemption in the eyes of the law. Instead it is an intimate portrayal of the journey a normal man takes from a happy, free man to an incarcerated felon. It is sometimes brutal and unflinching, occasionally pseudo-philosophical but always maintains a connection to the personal cost of the a prison sentence.

Stephen Dorff and Val Kilmer head the cast, Dorff as the wronged man and Kilmer as an enigmatic lifer. The relationship is that of teacher and mentor, there is even a voice over with a montage, but the quality of the performances saves it from falling into overwrought cliché. Dorff proves that a slew of underwhelming roles sold him seriously short and Kilmer creates a compelling physicality and presence, despite his relatively limited screen time. To rate one performance over the other would detract from the impressive dynamic they create. The supporting cast are generally solid apart from Harold Perrineau, a man with no discernible acting talent who still turns up in all kinds of places. His character in Felon is supposed to be complex, gorged on power and alienated from his family but Perrineau simply can't pull it off. It is a shame in a film that does little else wrong.

The film was clearly made on a budget but the grainy, mostly hand-held camera work works well in this setting. The shooting style reminded me a lot of Narc (which can only be a good thing) in its low key approach and sometimes arresting imagery.

All things considered, Felon is a well made, impressively acted, tersely plotted drama which deserves to find an audience. It is better than many movies I've seen this year but can only be seen on limited release before a swift release on DVD where it will probably sink without a ripple in a sea of direct to video dross. If you find it wedged firmly between the latest Seagal pseudo action flick and some dodgy labelled classic that never was or will be check it out. Its worth a look.

Doomsday (I) (2008)

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be...

[7/10 · 8 June 2008]

After Dog Soldiers (2002) and The Descent (2005), Neil Marshall seemed like the new wunderkind of British horror cinema. His latest, Doomsday, is a markedly different film from his earlier work – most clearly in it's inability to choose which genre it belongs to. Dog Soldiers clearly leaned in the direction of comedy while The Descent was a masterful lesson in claustrophobic horror, marred only slightly by a number of over the top action scenes in its final act. Doomsday has funny moments, horrible moments, thrilling moments and, more often, moments filled with levels of absurdity which would not feel out of place in a full-blown spoof.

The year is 2033. A quarter of a century has passed since the outbreak of a fatal disease in northern Britain. Scotland has been cut off - segregated behind a barrier closely following the lines of Hadrian's wall. But the disease has returned, the south is threatened and a crack military team (led by Rhona Mitra) is sent into the contaminated zone to find survivors, and a cure. Throw in Marshall's proved abilities to create tension and a little offbeat humour and it sounds like the making of a minor classic, right? Well yes and no. The films' greatest strength is also its biggest liability – namely nostalgia.

Some films use nostalgia extremely well. A recent example would be Superman Returns. The slow, majestic sweep of the title sequence served to reintroduce us the universe of Superman (literally and figuratively). John Ottman's marginal reworking of John William's superb score was so evocative that it, in conjunction with the familiar (though now CG enhanced) starscapes created a near instant sense of comfort. Superman Returns is homage, Doomsday is convoluted pastiche.

The film is a literal expression of what happens when you give a director too much freedom. After only 2 features, Neil Marshall's track record was simply not strong enough to be allowed this kind of free reign. The result is a mess; the bastard child of a dozen or so 70's and 80's films – from the Warriors to Mad Max via Escape from New York. It also moves schizophrenically from one genre to the next: near future vistas give way to post-apocalyptic deserted cities (a la 28 Days Later) before moving on to psychedelic dancing cannibals, mobs of bikers and an extended, somewhat unnecessary, car chase. Did I mention there's a medieval section as well that comes off as a nicely shot mash-up of Robin Hood and Gladiator? As a knowing and self-referential piece of cinematic shlock this would be perfectly enjoyable but the fact is that Doomsday takes itself far too seriously. What humour exists is often as blatant as assuming that a stunning woman like Mitra aping almost Snake Plissken worthy dialogue is entertaining. This works, to a point, but it is missing that vital cue for the audience; how are we supposed to take this? In Dog Soldiers there was a healthy sense of the ridiculous, both on the part of the characters and the audience. Likewise in The Descent, we know from the outset that the film will not be lighthearted. Doomsday refuses to make that choice, veering from an overlong dance sequence which looks like the gag reel from a Prodigy music video to the genuinely shocking roasting of a live human being. The contrast of different styles can work within the structure of a film to make the relief of the comedy or the shock of the horror more powerful but when it vacillates this often and this wildly any such affect is lost.

One major point to remember is that the movies which Doomsday references are themselves a mixed bag. That's the thing with nostalgia, its better felt than examined. The original Superman comes across, to me, as strangely elitist these days and Escape from New York is an extremely uneven film. So, in trying to bring these kinds of films together, Marshall has doubly handicapped himself: Firstly, by being limited to sources of varying quality. Secondly, by trying to reference so many other films, the coherence of Doomsday suffers. So much so that each scene begins to resemble a discrete entity, rather than a part of the whole.

Doomsday is, however, a difficult film to truly dislike. There is a kind of manic energy to it, an undercurrent of gleeful nastiness that allows it to bulldoze through the clichés, plot holes and bloated editing. The action is generally well shot and presented and the whole film has a technical polish which we are not used to seeing in British cinema. The acting is generally good and Mitra makes an impressive leading lady, hopefully this will be a breakthrough role for her. As for Neil Marshall, this is without a doubt his weakest film to date and makes one wonder whether he's ready to make the move to big budget film-making (there are rumours he is about to be subsumed into the Hollywood machine). We can only hope he works from a better script with more supervision in the future.

I find it hard to imagine that we will still be talking about Doomsday in twenty years but for all its' faults there is some entertainment to be had. With the right attitude, a DVD turned up loud and a few drinks it might manage to become a minor cult favourite in the future. And, through the quality obscuring mists of nostalgia, maybe that is how a classic is born...

The Machine Girl (2008)

Girl has arm. Girl loses arm. GIRL REPLACES ARM WITH A GATLING GUN AND SEEKS REVENGE...

[7/10 · 5 June 2008]

I urge everyone to check out the trailer for The Machine Girl. If you don't laugh, this film is not for you. If you do prepare to rupture something as, over the course of 90 minutes you will experience: tempura battered forearms, digit-spiced sushi, dismemberment through tripping, A DRILL BRA, ninjas in tracksuits, sapphic arm-wrestling, necrophilic deflowering, bullet flaying, vomiting intestines and gallons and gallons of geysering blood.

Good writing, good performances, good CG and good taste are not The Machine Girls' forte. What it does have going for it is an abyssal black sense of humour and a penchant for treading the line between the disgusting and the absurd (avoiding, as it does so, the pitfalls of some more extreme Japanese horror offerings). The story, such as it is, revolves around a seemingly normal Japanese high school girl who – after the death of her brother – goes after the ones responsible. There are some other incidentals; the mystery surrounding the death of her parents, for example but it is just filler – the tasteless bread surrounding this sandwich of ultraviolence. The opening scene is a perfect demonstration of Machine Girls' intentions (it contains plot spoilers that reach halfway into the film) effectively stifling any chance of tension or drama. And then a petite girl in a Japanese schoolgirl outfit straps a Gatling gun to the stump of her left arm and you understand. You reach calmly into your brain and turn the switch marked 'Reality' to the off position, dial your gorge reflex down a couple of notches and prepare to ride the claret rapids wherever they may take you.

The Machine Girl is gory, tasteless, voyeuristic and peppered with 'performers' from Japan's porn industry. It is also funny, self-aware and delivers on its promises very effectively (mainly: lots and lots of blood. It has some corny moments and is technically rather low rent but, in all honesty, competent film-making would only distract from the films gleeful, nihilistic bloodletting. So sit down with some popcorn (avoid sushi), grab the (even more hilarious) dub of The Machine Girl and prepare to dissolve all sense of good taste and decency for an hour and half. I almost guarantee you'll enjoy it

Iron Man (2008)

Not super enough...

[6/10 · 13 May 2008]

Iron Man is the first feature to be made entirely by Marvel – a gamble which has paid off to the tune of over $350 million worldwide so far. For a non-sequel from a fledgling company that is impressive and bodes well for Marvel's reboot of The Incredible Hulk – due in June. Comic book films are big money spinners now but the success of a new series is predicated on the entertainment value of the central character – and in this way Hulk and Tony Stark have similar problems. They just aren't super enough...

Iron Man starts with an unnecessary flashback structure, presumably to ensure some loud action in the first minute or two. Tony Stark (played with now-familiar post-rehab gusto by Robert Downey Jnr.) is the embodiment of the capitalistic, jingoistic American ideal. He has become absurdly rich designing weapons and, more significantly, has no moral qualms whatsoever about the negative effects of his work. Stark is not a nice man. Except he is. This potentially realistic and complex dualistic behaviour is lost in the film's failure to choose sides, leading us to the first of many problems; what are we, the audience, supposed to think of Tony Stark? He is presented as bright and brilliant; a charming man of the people but also as a womaniser and a warlord. This initial confusion is nothing compared to what happens later on. After a brush with death and a subsequent escape (which is accomplished in an ultra-violent fashion) he holds a hippie press conference and vows to stop making weapons for good.

This turnaround is simply too fast and, as presented by Downey Jnr. with his usual twinkly-eyed glazed look, has none of the power or angst we have come to expect from comic book origin stories. His parents are not murdered before his eyes, nor is his home world destroyed. He comes across as a petulant child who is bored with his old toys. Instead of using his money to work for peace or help starving children he creates a powered battle suit and flies around the world blowing things up. Exactly how this is 'protecting the people he put in harm's way' is slightly beyond me. And the hypocrisy of the double standard is appalling – it is only when Stark realises that (Shock! Horror!) his weapons might be used against American troops that he begins to examine his conscience.

Don't get the wrong idea, there is nothing particularly obnoxious about Iron Man. The performances are light and breezy and the script is a cut about the blockbuster norm; littered as it is with a particularly dry sense of humour. The central performance from Robert Downey Jnr. is the film's saving grace but also its' Achilles heel. His presence is enjoyable on the one hand but, in my opinion, also detracts from the credibility of the whole endeavour. You keep expecting him to wink to camera and finally admit it is some kind of extravagant Saturday Night Live parody. That Jeff Bridges is really being played by Will Ferrell and Terrence Howard is actually just a cardboard cutout. I still don't get Terrance Howard. I've yet to see him raise a palpable, or even guessable, emotion in his roles – his face seems oddly expressionless and his voice almost unbearable. He gets some good lines in this film but sounds like he's reading them from an auto cue. But I digress. As once off summer entertainment this kind of self aware film-making is bearable but I simply can't see the film becoming a much loved classic in the future.

So, what does the film have going for it? The special effects are impressive, with the integration of cg and live action especially so. The set pieces, when they come, run the gamut from mundane to genuinely thrilling. Stark's armoured escape from captivity is surprisingly dull while some of the later aerial combat sequences are exciting. Once again though, the use of sfx has positive and negative effects, particularly in relation to the ending. The final confrontation has become a serious problem for the superhero film. In days of yore, special effects were difficult, so typically the best the film had to offer was saved for the ending. Now, every scene is liberally slathered with computer generated gunk. The result is explosive fatigue, a run of overpowering sequences which forgo actual affect for special effect. A dozen astonishingly well-rendered high octane scenes does not create a cumulative effect. If the same level of frankly awe-inspiring cg work is applied to the hero designing and dressing in his suit then what is left for the audience to look forward to. What makes a special effect special these days? The ending of Iron Man is another clunky computer-aided brawl, where narrative is suspended for minutes at a time while increasingly unrealistic pieces of metal and flesh beat on each other. This moment is reminiscent of a dozen other recent movie resolutions: from Hellboy to The Matrix Revolutions, all equally dull. Without vicarious involvement – a sense that a character we can identify with is in danger – it just amounts to so many polygons.

Perhaps I've been a little harsh on Iron Man. I can't honestly say I was bored by the experience but I do feel its' major mis-steps are a symptom of a greater malaise at the heart of contemporary blockbuster cinema. If, however, your cynicism has not quite reached the pathological degree mine has you could well have some fun with Iron Man. Robert Downey Jnr., Jeff Bridges and Gwyneth Paltrow are amiable enough company (even if the latter seems as though an errant puff of wind would shatter her into a million pieces) and the director, Jon Favreau, keeps things moving at a reasonable pace. Stark's character arc is minimal (more of a character stroll really) but his near trademarked delivery of PG-13 witticisms should be enough to hold your attention. Just.

Bound (1996)

Without a doubt their second best film

[7/10 · 12 May 2008]

Are they still brothers? Did Larry Wachowski ever become Linda? Anyway, this slick, smart thriller may not be exactly feminist but it certainly plays with our standard notions about the genre. The conceit seems relatively incidental- replace the young male lover with another woman- but infuses the film with a atmosphere of minor taboo-breaking that works in it's favour. More significantly, Bound is the movie that introduced the Wachowski's to the world. Up until 2003, believe it or not, this was considered to be a very good thing. Let's try to remember that, before the overwrought ostentation of The Matrix Reloaded and the bilious sludge of Revolutions they made a couple of good films. So go rent Bound and The Matrix and have a Wachowski retrospective because, judging by early accounts of Speed Racer they may never make another film worth seeing...