The Flicker Project

A Dangerous Method (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 04 May 2012 16:01:00 +0000

David Cronenberg's long directorial career can generally be split into two camps. There are those movies that exist primarily as entertainment, usually dealing with a shocking subject matter, horrific violence, and some pimped out B-movie thrills - everything from The Fly to A History of Violence.

Then there are the slower, more considered films - and A Dangerous Method definitely falls into the second camp. Telling the story of the friendship - and falling out - between Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, and Jung's relationship with one of his patients, it is often as cold and clinical as you'd expect. Ignore the suggestion that this might be an erotic romance - it's about as erotic as a psychology textbook.

Where A Dangerous Method scores is in its stellar cast, however, and Cronenberg is able to wring tension out of a disappointingly workmanlike screenplay. In Michael Fassbender, as Carl Jung, he has one of the most versatile and emotionally engaging actors currently on our screens, and one who's likable enough to pull off the psychoanalyst's scheming and pretensions. Add in Viggo Mortensen as Freud, a role that threatens to take over the entire movie, and you have some genuine chemistry to keep us watching.

(Mortensen is turning into a regular Cronenberg collaborator, but a quick glance at his performances will tell you that he's been anything but stereotyped. Watching him as Freud you'd never think it was the same man who portrayed Nikolai Luzhin in Eastern Promises.)

Unfortunately the same can't be said of the chemistry between Fassbender and Keira Knightley, as troubled Russian patient Sabina Spielrein. Sabina meets Jung when she's given into his care, and she's such a mess of neuroses that it's hard to see beyond the constant fits and tantrums. The fact that the two end up not only in bed together but lifelong soul mates seems too fantastical to believe - especially when Knightley displays such a distractingly bad accent. In a movie where every other character speaks in perfect English, you have to query the wisdom of giving Sabina the kind of vocal mangling that only Hollywood can serve up. Maybe Natalie Portman was her voice coach.

The sex scenes between Jung and Sabina are icy cold too, and while there's artistic merit in their emotional distance it makes for dull - and disturbing - viewing. It's only when Jung is sparring with Freud, or carousing with colleague/patient/libertine Otto Gross (Vincent Cassell), that sparks truly fly.

A Dangerous Method shows all the depth and flair that you'd expect from Cronenberg, but any movie with a central love story this weird and detached will always struggle to engage its audience. That it doesn't entirely succeed isn't entirely his fault - but you can't help wishing for more of the Freud-Jung material, and less of Knightley's gurning. The end result is more like M. Butterfly than Dead Ringers - interesting, but not the fully realized vision we might have hoped for.

3/5

The Muppets (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Tue, 01 May 2012 15:10:00 +0000

If you grew up on a steady diet of The Muppet Show (as I did), then you'll know that there's nothing quite like hearing the opening bars of their theme tune, as our lovable puppet friends start to parade across the stage. Multiple movies have tried to recapture that magic, but on the whole they've failed - and some have failed big. For a long time is seemed as if that joyful innocence had been lost to a bygone age.

The 2011 reboot of The Muppets may not quite be the way you remembered it, but it's so darned close that only the die-hard fans will be complaining. Sure, there are modern references and fart jokes. But even the Muppets have to move a little with the times - and the rest is so close to our beloved memories of the TV show that only Statler and Waldorf would find reason to grumble.

What's perhaps most remarkable is that this reimagining of The Muppet Show's naive charms has come from Jason Segel, better known for his starring roles in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and I Love You, Man. Until now Segel has been firmly entrenched in the Judd Apatow school of crude sex jokes and copious barfing, but here he turns on the charm as both actor and screenwriter. On screen alongside Amy Adams he looks like a throwback to the old school moves of Dick Van Dyke, albeit with tongue lodged firmly in cheek. His transformation couldn't have been more unexpected.

There are plenty of cameos, as you'd expect from a Muppet movie - ranging from Dave Grohl and Jack Black to Alan Arkin and Emily Blunt - but the greatest credit has to go to Bret McKenzie. Better known as one half of HBO's Flight of the Conchords, McKenzie tackles the role of musical director - and hits it out of the park. The song 'Man or Muppet' won him an Oscar, but every musical number is a riot of wordplay and pop culture reference, as witty as anything from his TV show but entirely in keeping with the film's child-friendly vibe. If you hate musicals, you'll love this one.

As for the plot, it largely revolves around the Muppets having to reform and rebuild their old theater when oil baron Tex Richman (Chris Cooper) threatens to buy out their legacy. Cue pratfalls, a few musical numbers - and a good, old fashioned road trip. The story may be a little thin, but with the entire gang getting back together before our eyes - including Miss Piggy, Kermit, Gonzo, Fozzie, Animal, and personal favorite Beaker - it's never truly missed. Instead we get to revel in nostalgia for a couple of hours, while Segel and Adams spin some old time charm and crack out a dance move or two.

The Muppets doesn't rewrite the storybook - but nobody wanted that. Instead it revives our memories of one of the most original (and fun) TV shows ever to have hit our screens, and does so with the smartest, sassiest musical numbers the Muppets have ever seen. Even Zach Galifianakis's Hobo Joe would have to be impressed by that.

4/5

Contagion (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 16:37:00 +0000

We're all familiar with the disease epidemic disaster movie subgenre - at least, we think we are. Every few years there seems to be a new flurry of pestilence paranoia, and Hollywood is always quick to cash in on public fears of SARS, swine flu, weaponized mumps...

What immediately distinguishes Steven Soderbergh's Contagion from the pustulent hordes of pandemic movies is its adherence to something resembling scientific fact. Sure, the disease in question - a combination of bat and swine flus called Meningoencephalitis Virus One (MEV-1) - is entirely fictional, but the government's reactions and chain reactions are as close to the real thing as you'll ever want to get. Soderbergh used a multitude of scientific advisers for this film, and even re-shot scenes that the eggheads didn't approve of.

If we ever suffer a disease pandemic of truly global magnitude, you can bet that it'll look something like Contagion.

Of course, this is still a Hollywood movie, so the imperiled masses are made up of the likes of Matt Damon and Gwyneth Paltrow, while the investigating scientist-saviors come in the form of Kate Winslet and Laurence Fishburne. But even their familiar faces are remarkably prone to MEV-1, and it quickly becomes clear that no one is entirely safe from the virus's reach. Just like Guy Pearce's untimely death at the start of The Hurt Locker, Soderbergh sends us a clear signal - all bets are off.

He crafts a surprisingly gripping narrative too, weaving in and out of varying storylines as the scientific community tries to track this particular viral outbreak back to its origins, while also struggling to manufacture an effective vaccine from an attenuated strain of the virus. We see Marion Cotillard as a World Health Organization envoy who runs into trouble while in Hong Kong; Jude Law as an unethical blogger who seems more concerned with his Google ranking than the lives of millions... the list goes on.

Soderbergh is such a master at the 'hyperlink cinema' form that this never gets confusing or repetitive, and instead you'll find yourself perched on the edge of your seat as one revelation after another sends the narrative down in an ever-deepening spiral. Either that, or you're afraid to touch your chair for fear of transferring germs.

We haven't even started to mention some of the movie's threads yet, including Bryan Cranston as the arm of the military, or John Hawkes as the cleaner who finds himself privy to some very troubling information - but that's the joy of Contagion. The multiple stories are so intricately threaded together that it's near-impossible to pull them apart again, and for once we're presented with a film that's surprisingly close to a perfect synchronicity of form and subject.

That's not to say that it's a bundle of laughs - Contagion is about as bleak and depressing as you'd expect it to be, given that it leaves 26 million dead in its wake. If you want to look over the edge of the kind of pandemic we're increasingly finding ourselves teetering on, however, then Steven Soderbergh is here to hold your hand. Just remember to wash it first.

4/5

The Ides Of March (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 16:31:00 +0000

The Ides Of March is the movie that proves George Clooney can do no wrong. It's by no means the best film Clooney has made - it doesn't even get close - and it won't be the most memorable. In fact, you'll be lucky if you can remember it a week after seeing it. But somehow it still wormed its way into the Golden Globe nominations this year, and even ended up with an Oscar nomination too, for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Would all this have happened without Clooney's involvement? Maybe... but it's hard to imagine. While The Ides Of March has an undeniably strong cast, and always looks fantastic on our screens, its dense world of backroom deals and voter polls can't help but seem dry compared with the other films clamoring for our attention this year. It even looks bland compared with The West Wing, and given the talent behind it that's surely a disappointment.

That's not to say that it's a bad movie - in fact, it's probably the best political thriller you'll see this year. But it's always been a genre with a rather limited appeal, and unless you get your ya yas out to projected voter patterns then you may find it hard going.

Thankfully Clooney & co. are here to save the day. In other hands The Ides Of March might have been so dry that you'd want to serve it with a twist of lemon, but the actors keep it simmering at such a high level of intensity that even staff meetings begin to look exciting. Throw in some smouldering sexiness from Ryan Gosling and Evan Rachel Wood, and you've got a hit on your hands.

The plot is so labyrinthine there's no way we can unravel it all here, but the basics should give you some idea of where it's heading. Clooney himself plays Governor Mike Morris, a Democratic Presidential candidate on the campaign trail, but the focus is firmly on his Deputy Campaign Manager, Stephen Meyers (Gosling). Meyers reports to campaign veteran Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman), but when he pays an unofficial visit to rival campaign manager Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti) his carefully constructed world starts to fall apart.

There's an affair with an intern thrown into the mix, as well as some sordid secrets of the Governor's, but the real intrigue and tension doesn't arrive until the film's second half. It's this delayed pace that waters down The Ides Of March a little, and unless you're particularly intrigued by the ins-and-outs of working on the campaign trail you'll be desperately waiting for the thriller elements to start.

Still, there's no denying the incredible acting chops on display, from the key roles played by Gosling and Hoffman to smaller cameos from Marisa Tomei and Jeffrey Wright. While The Ides Of March manages to be smart and layered from start to finish, it does turn on the thrills rather late, and only political junkies will feel engaged in the first half. For the rest of us, it's just another reminder of why we can't stand the political machine.

Watching the 1% lie and cheat their way into power just isn't as fun as it used to be.

3/5

Fright Night (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 16:35:00 +0000

There are many reasons to like Fright Night. It's the kind of schlocky horror film that Hollywood seems not to make any more, the sort of action-packed fantasy that has more in common with Buffy The Vampire Slayer than Dracula. It also features a coven of surprisingly fine actors, from Anton Yelchin in the lead role to Colin Farrell's disarmingly good-looking bloodsucker. It even has a final human-on-vampire showdown that deserves to go down in the horror canon.

But perhaps the best reason is the Hollywood coming-out party of David Tennant. Sure, America has seen him before - you may recognize him as Barty Crouch Jr. from the Harry Potter films - but until now he hasn't been given room to shine. And as anyone who watches Doctor Who will tell you, that's a crying shame.

Tennant may not have a huge role in Fright Night, but it's surely enough to make America sit up and take notice - and then the fun can really start.

Based on the 1985 movie of the same name, Fright Night tells the story of Charley Brewster (Yelchin), a geeky teen living in Nevada who stumbles into a world of death and despair when a vampire (Farrell) moves in next door. We won't dissect the plot here - no one likes to see a movie's intestines across their screen. But suffice it to say that finishing off the arrogant vamp proves to be easier said than done, and Charley has to recruit the help of his mother (Toni Collette), his girlfriend (Imogen Poots), and washed-up Vegas showman Peter Vincent (Tennant) on his modern-day crusade.

Fright Night's greatest strength lies in its cast, and everyone has so much fun with the hammy material that it wouldn't be a surprise to see a sequel within a few years. Yelchin and Poots conjure up some believable chemistry, and Charley's friend Ed (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) is hilariously grotesque when he returns from the dead to deliver an ass-whipping - but it's Tennant's Peter Vincent who steals the show every time he's on the screen. At times he seems to be channeling fellow Brit Russell Brand, but he quickly makes this cursing, itching, Midori-drinking fop all his own.

There will still be those who struggle to see past the cheesy one-liners and vintage creature design, but anyone who enjoyed the likes of The Lost Boys, or Buffy The Vampire Slayer - or, indeed, Doctor Who - will have a blast. Fright Night may not be edgy and dripping with gore, but it's the perfect chaser for those who like their horror served with a healthy twist of laughter.

3/5

Warrior (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 16:07:00 +0000

Judging by the trailer alone, Warrior looks worryingly like The Fighter, via The Wrestler, recast in the UFC... and the impression isn't entirely false. If that discourages you from seeing it, however, then you'll want to think again, because this is an accomplished and surprisingly beautiful piece of filmmaking that quickly transcends its origins.

If you still don't believe me, then consider the cast. While there are no box office-opening A-listers here, both Tom Hardy (Inception) and Joel Edgerton (The Square) are rising stars, and their previous performances alone should make this a must-see movie. Throw in Nick Nolte as their recovering-alcoholic father - a role he was surely born to play - and we have a trio of genuine talent at Warrior's heart.

The Mixed Martial Arts setting is never allowed to get in the way of the film's emotional, familial story either, and what looks on the surface to be a testosterone-driven punchathon actually turns out to be a gripping and shockingly touching character drama. I'll go back to the cast again here - Hardy and Edgerton are two of the most exciting young actors around, and Warrior is the perfect vehicle for their full range of talents.

Gavin O'Connor does a worthy job as director too, channeling everything from Rocky to Michael Mann as he presents us with one of the most intriguing fight movies of the last five years - possibly ever. At its core, Warrior poses a simple question: what happens if we're not just rooting for one fighter, but for both corners of the ring?

Hardy and Edgerton are cast as estranged brothers Tommy and Brendan, both of whom have distinguished pasts in the ring (or the cage, or on the mat...). Tommy reaches out to their father Paddy (Nolte), a drunk who abused their mother so badly that she left with Tommy to start anew. Brendan, meanwhile, struck out on his own, carving out a new life as a married man, and a teacher at a local high school. Neither brother has much love for the grizzled, broken-down Paddy, but Tommy needs him to restart his fighting career.

It's no great surprise when the two brothers end up competing in the same winner-takes-all UFC tournament - anyone who's seen the trailer can tell you that - but what keeps us on our toes is the series of perfectly-timed revelations that get us to that point. We won't indulge in spoilers here, but suffice it to say that both Tommy and Brendan have everything to fight for, and you can expect audiences to be evenly divided between the two.

It's here that Warrior truly stands out, as it pitches two fighters against each other... and we don't want either to lose. If you thought you had an emotional involvement in the final scenes of Rocky, then multiply that by two. The fight scenes themselves are edgily believable too, echoing the blood and sweat of Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, and while it won't win many converts to UFC it will certainly keep you pinned to the edge of your seat.

The perfectly balanced screenplay largely keeps Hardy and Edgerton at arms length, only bringing them together for a couple of key scenes - and this lends some extra punch to an already tense drama. The effect isn't quite as striking as the Pacino-De Niro face-off in Heat, but it comes close.

Warrior still feels a little overlong, and it doesn't tread much new turf - but I defy anyone not to get swept along by its tale of brotherly rivalry and fighting for personal justice. If you weren't already keeping an eye out for Hardy and Edgerton, then you will be now. After the bloody trilogy of The Wrestler, The Fighter and Warrior, however, Hollywood may want to hang up its gloves for a while.

4/5

Moneyball (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 16:12:00 +0000

The baseball season may just be gearing up again as the teams travel to Spring Training, but for their movie incarnations it's already the post-season. Moneyball has been nominated for six Academy Awards this year, and while it may not win any, that's not a bad total for a film about sports statistics and viable business models. After the success of The Social Network corporate dramas are threatening to become a movie subgenre in their own right.

Fortunately Moneyball isn't just about the back-office action, however, and sports movie fans will find plenty on offer too. Based on the 2003 book by Michael Lewis, it examines the groundbreaking ideas of Billy Beane, the Oakland A's manager who turned the club around despite a meager budget in the 2002 season - all thanks to the mathematical insights of sabermetrics.

You don't know what sabermetrics are? That doesn't matter too much, because Moneyball never veers far from the tried and tested formula of sports movies everywhere. Sure, the focus is largely off the field, and yes, there's a twist in the ending - but neither is enough to derail what is essentially a Hollywood triumph-over-adversity fairy tale. Think of it as Rocky, but with baseball bats and pie charts.

Brad Pitt plays Beane with his usual casual charm (and he still seems to eat during every single scene - does the man have no stomach?), but it's Jonah Hill who really captures our attention. Anyone who remembers the angry, potty-mouthed teen from Superbad will be amazed to see Hill in such a serious, straight role, yet his down-the-line adherence to facts and statistics makes him the perfect foil for Pitt's rampant energy. Never mind that his role, as Peter Brand, is a composite of real-life characters - it's easy to believe in his deadpan geekiness as they turn the club around.

If you're familiar with the recent history of baseball then you'll already know the story, and could probably do a much better job of summarizing it than I can. Suffice it to say that the A's lose their major players to the bottomless wallets of the major clubs, and Billy Beane sees that they can't compete on a level playing field when their opposition has four times the budget. It's when his path crosses Brand's that he discovers a different way of looking at the draft process, and effectively changes how the clubs look at baseball forever.

By now you're probably thinking that Moneyball is one for the hardcore baseball-heads only, and to some extent that's true. But even if you haven't watched a single ballgame in your life the A-list actors (also including Philip Seymour Hoffman) bring their best stuff to the screen, and the tried-and-tested narrative formula keeps us engaged with the drama.

If I seem a little disparaging of Moneyball's formulaic nature, it's because it was originally envisioned as a Steven Soderbergh project, complete with intriguing visual quirks and interviews with real-life ball players. The fact that it has ended up as another interesting but stylistically bland sports drama comes as a disappointment. That it's still engaging enough to hold our attention - and garner six Oscar nominations - is testament to the acting talent behind it, but you can't help feeling that it might have gone all the way.

If only Soderbergh had taken us out to the ballgame, we might have ended up with more than just peanuts.

4/5

Drive (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 16:59:00 +0000

After many long years of screaming at the TV and shredding copies of Titanic, it should come as no great surprise that this year's Oscars have got it wrong. Again. While there are plenty of deserving movies on their nominee lists - and just a few too many worthy ones - the omissions are as glaringly wrong-headed as the two nominations for Bridesmaids. The fact that you won't see Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive gracing the stage on Oscar night is as misguided as, well, leaving out The Wrestler.

The Oscars 2012 can go down as a SNAFU year - Same as Normal, Ace Films Unrewarded.

To be fair (and we do try to be fair, even when we're frothing at the mouth) Drive won't be everyone's idea of a good time. The hot pink Eighties-style credits are almost as unpalatable as the extreme violence, and the expressionless performance by Ryan Gosling at its core is as unsettling as it is subtly nuanced. Those expecting a thrilling action blockbuster will be disappointed with Drive's artsy sensibility and Lynchian ambivalence.

Anyone who loves auteur cinema, however, will lap up Drive with unrestrained hunger. Refn's cinematic influences are worn on his sleeve, and range from Tarantino's B-movie aesthetic to Michael Mann's gloriously luminescent cityscapes. This is a dark, stylized crime drama that paints its canvas with a hundred different brushes, but somehow comes out as a coherent whole - and delivers one of the most successful blends of arthouse cinema and popular action drama in recent memory.

Gosling plays an unnamed Hollywood stuntman and part-time getaway driver, who owes a huge debt to Eastwood's Man With No Name. When he befriends (and, yes, falls for) his neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan) the story starts to show its true colors. As Irene's husband returns home from prison, bringing trouble with him, Drive turns into that other classic Western story - the revenge tale.

Our hero-driver takes it upon himself to protect Irene and her son Benicio, but this decision leads him to some pretty bad places. Be prepared for the violence - the gory scenes are few, and startlingly brief, but they'll imprint themselves upon your brain.

Refn also makes good use of some respected but decidedly un-A-list actors, including Breaking Bad's Bryan Cranston, Mad Men's Christina Hendricks, and Sons of Anarchy's Ron Perlman. Clearly someone's been watching a lot of TV - but with pedigree this strong, you can't blame them. Gosling's star continues to rise too, and here he shows a simmering broodiness beneath those model good looks. If you want your girlfriend to forget her crush on Mr. Gosling, just replay her the scene where he crushes a crook's skull. Problem solved.

Once again the Academy Awards have proved themselves to be a popularity contest rather than an indicator of quality; and once again the year's best film won't be bathing in Uncle Oscar's glory. Nicolas Winding Refn has proved that he's an auteur to watch, however, and Drive will be remembered as one of the great Oscar Winners That Never Was. Forget the overblown red carpet ceremonies this February - watch Drive instead.

5/5

Midnight In Paris (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 16:07:00 +0000

For the true movie enthusiast, there's no better news than Woody Allen being back on form. Over the years the diminutive writer/director/actor/jazz musician has enjoyed his fair share of success, and has endured plenty of failure too - but few living directors can claim to have had such an overwhelming influence on modern culture, or to have left such an impressively unique body of work behind them. He's Woody Allen - the name says it all.

That Midnight In Paris was greeted with such an enthusiastic fanfare by the international press should be treated warily. This is a rallying cry that we've heard before, and it hasn't always proved to be justified. For every Vicky Cristina Barcelona there has been a Scoop.

With Midnight In Paris, however, Allen hasn't just produced a fantastic - and fantastical - movie. He's also managed to touch upon many of the highlights from his early career, plundering some of his finest material to create a curious blend of everything that's great about a Woody Allen film, while avoiding most of the self-indulgent, whiny, or downright sour elements that have occasionally threatened to overwhelm his modern output. It's like watching all your favorite Woody Allen movies in 90 minutes.

The one noticeable change from his older films is the absence of Allen himself in front of the camera, but for many viewers that will be a good thing. This time his troubled, artistic alter-ego is played by Owen Wilson, and there's enough space between the two figures for the script to craft something like a fully rounded character - not just another cipher for the director himself.

As for the story, it's a whimsical ode to the city of the title, reminiscent in that respect of Manhattan - but Allen takes it to some truly fantastical places that owe more to The Purple Rose of Cairo.

Gil Pender (Wilson) is a successful screenwriter who's struggling to pen his first novel. He's on vacation in Paris with his fiancee (Rachel McAdams) and her family, but they're not feeling the power of the city of love - in fact, his fiancee seems more interested in overbearing intellectual Paul (Michael Sheen). Gil wants to stay in the city permanently, having fallen in love with the Parisian lifestyle epitomized in his mind by the lively literary and artistic scene of the 20s... but neither his fiancee nor his in-laws-to-be buy into his dream.

It's while staggering back to their hotel from another unsuccessful dinner that something truly magical happens to Gil. He catches a lift in a passing car, and before he quite understands what's happening he's back in Paris in the 20s, drinking with the Fitzgeralds and Hemingway, and making friends with Salvador Dali (a perfectly cast Adrien Brody), Picasso, Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates), and many other icons of the era.

He also falls in love with artist's muse Adriana (Marion Cotillard), and it's here that he has to face his dilemma - does he truly love his fiancee? And would he really prefer to live in the past?

It's at this point that Woody Allen does what he does best, weaving Midnight In Paris's moral and ethical dilemmas together with a light-hearted and amusing narrative that never fails to entertain. We truly want Gil to be happy - he seems far more deserving of it than any of his fellow Americans - but the ending manages to be both surprising and utterly satisfying. We weren't saying that about Scoop.

It may be too early to declare a Woody Allen renaissance, but it's certainly fair to say that he's enjoying a successful period - he's had more hits than misses in the last five years. And that has to be good news for everyone.

4/5

Cowboys & Aliens (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 16:40:00 +0000

Jon Favreau at the helm. Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford smoldering in front of the camera. Olivia Wilde, well, doing what she does. Cowboys & Aliens must have looked like a publicist's wet dream on paper, but there was always one significant hurdle to overcome.

Cowboys? And aliens? Really??

As a low-budget indie spoof this might have made sense, but the fact that Cowboys & Aliens became a big-budget, A-list blockbuster left more than a few heads being scratched. Was it an outright spoof? A serious attempt to blend the two genres? Or a cynical cash-in on the stars' reputations?

After seeing the end result, most of us are still divided. While Cowboys & Aliens enjoys some moments of humor, the overall tone is surprisingly bleak and poe-faced. But then there are the aliens, scuttling insectoid inventions that seem to have landed straight out of a sci-fi B-movie. Are we actually meant to take any of this seriously?

It's a question that looms over the 118-minute running time like an extraterrestrial mothership, and the fact that it remains unanswered tells you all you need to know about Cowboys & Aliens' weaknesses. Craig and Ford play the movie as a straight Western, and seem to have been cast specifically for their gravitas - but they're tackling a plot straight out of the Roger Corman playbook.

Jake Lonergan (Craig) wakes up in the desert with no idea of who he is, how he got there, or what the weird metal bracelet on his wrist does. He manages to stagger into the local town, where he butts heads with local bully Percy Dolarhyde (Paul Dano) and gets himself manacled by the law. Just as Dolarhyde's influential cattleman father (Ford) rolls into town, the skies fill with lights - and the alien invasion begins. Percy is abducted by a weird lasso-like device, along with the wife of the local saloon owner (Sam Rockwell) and a random selection of the townsfolk.

Naturally our heroes (and anti-heroes) ride out to try and rescue their kinsmen... and that's all, folks. The plot of Cowboys & Aliens feels so slight that it's a wonder Favreau manages to drag it out for almost two hours, and the decision to delay the aliens' first appearance until thirty minutes in means that the first quarter is nothing but a guessing game. We know they're coming - we can all read a title, Jon...

Strong performances are given by the principal players, but no one seems to know how to play the weird material they've been given. Dano goes for outright slapstick, while Craig gives his most dour and expressionless performance in years - clearly he was under the mistaken impression that he was cast for a deeply existential reworking of the classic Western.

Cowboys & Aliens isn't exactly bad, but after the dual explosions of Iron Man and Iron Man 2 we all expected something more coherent from Favreau. Maybe a lesson should have been learned from 1999's Wild Wild West. Sci-fi and Westerns truly don't mix.

2/5

Crazy, Stupid, Love. (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 16:14:00 +0000

It's fair to say that the romantic comedy - as a genre - has probably seen better days. The old 'boy meets girl, hilarity ensues' formula of yesteryear has been replaced by bromances and SNL-influenced slapstick, the kind of movie where two characters doing Jello shots in their underwear is about as close to romance as you're likely to get. Apparently the lovey-stuff isn't as hot as it used to be.

Ironically, it's this lack of competition that makes Crazy, Stupid, Love. feel so fresh and new. There's not actually much here that we haven't seen before, but it's presented with such confidence and flair that it almost feels like a refreshing antidote to the steady stream of Hangovers and Bridesmaids that have vomited across our screens in recent years. Go figure.

It helps that Dan Fogelman's screenplay is well-paced and razor sharp, and that the cast uniformly turns in performances worthy of its A-list names. Okay, so maybe one or two are actually B-list, or C-list... but the point still stands. Everyone here punches their weight.

Part of Crazy, Stupid, Love.'s appeal is the fact that it exists largely in the world of responsible, tax-paying grown-ups, rather than the imaginary loserville that forms the setting for so many of Hollywood's comedies. Cal Weaver (Steve Carell) is a gainfully employed father and husband when he discovers that his wife Emily (Julianne Moore) has cheated on him with her co-worker (Kevin Bacon, no less). It's the kind of scenario that could happen to any of us - and in some cases, probably has.

It's when Cal accidentally befriends suave lothario Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling, having a landmark year in 2011) that his depressingly self-destructive life starts to turn around. Jacob gives Cal a guy-makeover, teaches him how to talk to women, then unleashes him on the unsuspecting ladies. Cal's encounters include live-wire teacher Kate (Marisa Tomei), and it's when this sexual misadventure misfires that he gradually realizes what he really wants - to win his wife back.

By casting this tale of love lost and won among the story's parents and spouses, Crazy, Stupid, Love. effectively reimagines the High School rom-com for an older generation, and as such it never strays too far from the formula.

Where is scores, though, is in the restrained wit of the screenplay and the spot-on performances of the lead actors - particularly Gosling, whose oddly likable womanizer undergoes the film's most dramatic u-turn as the plot progresses. Carell, Moore and Emma Stone also give the movie plenty of heart, and even if you're not rolling on the floor with laughter you can't help getting wrapped up in their warped little world.

Most of all, however, everyone looks like they're having fun making this movie, and we wind up being swept along by the wave of good will and positive vibrations. It may be crazy, and stupid, but perhaps love can still be entertaining after all.

4/5

The Debt (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 16:35:00 +0000

Given its pedigree, The Debt should be prime awards material. Based on the acclaimed Israeli movie HaChov (2007), with Dame Helen Mirren in the starring role, and Tom Wilkinson and Ciaran Hinds in supporting slots, it seems to have everything going for it.

Okay, so it also features Sam Worthington... but it still has almost everything in its favor.

While there's undoubtedly a plethora of acting talent (and Worthington) in front of the camera, however, The Debt never quite scales the heights that it promises. In part that's due to the insistence on Israeli accents throughout, a decision that handicaps movie greats like Mirren and Wilkinson and undermines believability at every turn. While the intention was clearly to provide additional realism, the accents instead constantly remind us of the director's attempt at illusion, breaking disbelief's spell along the way.

The other handicap is the plot itself, a meandering tale that flits back and forth through time in a way that even Bill and Ted would struggle to master. The clumsy attempts to integrate the two timelines are bad enough, but when the foreshadowing lets us know exactly what will happen in a given scene you can almost see the screenwriters shooting themselves in the foot.

If that makes The Debt sound like a bad idea all round, then we should remind you again of that stellar cast. Mirren and Wilkinson alone are worth your time, and Hinds gives a quiet but powerful performance that steals almost every scene he graces. Even Worthington is bearable most of the time, despite that wandering accent.

We won't dismantle the plot here. As with most thrillers, The Debt relies on surprise for many of its effects - it already has enough working against it without us adding to its handicaps. Suffice it to say that it concerns a band of Mossad agents who were sent to apprehend a Holocaust war criminal in 1965, but who end up sharing a secret that alters the rest of their lives.

If you want to know more, then you should get your hands on a copy - because, despite its flaws, The Debt is still an entertaining and thrilling ride through the classic spy era. It will inevitably vanish in the long shadow of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, but you can't blame them for trying.

3/5

The Hangover Part II (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:50:00 +0000

In recent years filmmakers have become increasingly creative when naming their sequels. Styles range from an inventive use of the subtitle (see: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen) to a crazy reworking of the original (see: 2 Fast 2 Furious) - but the team behind The Hangover opted for none of these. The fact that they called their sequel The Hangover Part II tells you everything you need to know about our second visit with the Wolfpack.

If you enjoyed the original movie (and you should have), then you'll undoubtedly find something to like in Part II. The jokes get raunchier, the situations get wilder, but this is essentially the same movie that we watched before. They may have relocated to Thailand, but one Hangover feels pretty much like another.

Before you start expecting another breakout smash, however, bear in mind that The Hangover Part II also obeys that other classic rule of movie sequels - they're never as good as the original. While Part II takes pains to follow the same formula from start to finish, the shock factor that ensured the original's success has faded with time, and despite their best attempts you'll find that the laughs rapidly dissipate along with it. The Hangover was a true comedy original, but Part II feels like a cheap Thai knock-off.

That's not to say that it's entirely without laughs, even if much of the charm is lost in the vomit and semen jokes. (Okay, so those were in the original too... but somehow they seemed cuter the first time around.) The Wolfpack are attending another wedding, this time that of dentist Stu (Ed Helms) to his Thai girlfriend. Her father isn't a fan of the union, and Stu tries to ignore his disapproval... but that isn't easy when you've just woken up in a criminal's cockroach-infested apartment, with your brother-in-law's severed finger lying next to you.

As before, most of the laughs come from bearded man-child Alan (Zach Galifianakis), while Helms plays the everyman role, Bradley Cooper provides some eye candy for the ladies, and Justin Bartha makes up the numbers. Even Galifianakis seems to be phoning in the jokes this time around, but he's easily the funniest thing on the screen, and you can only hope that they'll give him an even larger role in The Hangover Part III. Forget the rest of the Wolfpack, Alan is their spin-off goldmine.

There are admirable cameos from Paul Giamatti and Jeffrey Tambor too, but much of The Hangover Part II feels like the build-up to a punchline that never quite comes. As it gets dirtier and wilder with every plot twist we can't help asking whether it's actually funny - and all too often the answer is a resounding 'no'.

Having said that, there's still a peculiar appeal to the series, and some of the extremely R-rated twists will have you laughing at their brazenness if nothing else. The Hangover Part II may not be clever, and it certainly isn't original - but you have to admire its balls.

3/5

Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 16:02:00 +0000

When they announced that Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes was going into pre-production there was a worldwide groan of disapproval. CGI monkeys? James Franco as a leading man? A plot that promised yet another re-hash of one of sci-fi's most overworked franchises? No thanks...

And yet, against all the odds, Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes turned out to be one of the best and most successful blockbusters of last summer. It wasn't simply luck, either. This is bold, energetic filmmaking, an exercise in storytelling and mythbuilding that manages to hook us and keep us watching because of - not despite - its many perceived shortcomings.

Okay, so James Franco still mumbles his way through the screenplay as if he's doped up to the eyeballs, but even his dopey charms work in Rise's favor. A more frenetic performance would have rubbed up against the CGI effects, but in Franco they have the perfect foil, an actor who somehow seems less full of life than the pixelated creatures surrounding him. If that sounds like the faintest of praise, then it shouldn't - for once Franco is pitch-perfect in a movie that might all too easily have seen him stumble.

Then, of course, there are those apes. The monkey suits of the original films (and the Tim Burton remake) have been hung up for good, replaced by CGI monkeys brought to life through modern motion capture techniques. In retrospect it seems obvious that they should have approached Andy Serkis for the lead ape - after all, his performance as Golum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy was one of the undoubted highlights of a series that can claim to be one of the most successful movie franchises of all time. If anyone could capture the essence of an ape on film, then Andy Serkis could.

And he does just that, injecting life and character into a movie that might otherwise have fallen at the first hurdle. Scientist Will Rodman (Franco) is working on a cure for Alzheimer's, in part to cure his own father (John Lithgow) - but when his program is shut down he winds up looking after a young chimp, Caesar (Serkis), whose mother was one of his test subjects. It soon becomes clear that Caesar has inherited some of the cognitive enhancements from his mother, and with this revelation so Will's experiment is given a new lease of life.

It's when Caesar gradually begins to discover self-awareness and the power of logical thought, however, that things start to get out of hand. After he attacks a human, Caesar is locked up in an animal refuge run by John Landon (Brian Cox), but the conditions are so inhumane that he begins to revolt against his captors - and he intends to take the rest of the apes with him.

Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes is an intriguing combination of complexity and simple thrills, a surefire formula for both commercial and critical success. Director Rupert Wyatt's striking imagery as the apes swarm across Golden Gate Bridge will stay with you long after the credits have rolled, as will the subtler images spotted throughout, including an unusually poetic scene in which the migrating tribe rains a shower of leaves down on a suburban street.

The screenplay is undeniably smart too, combining contemporary fears over cognitive enhancement drug trials with the kind of doom-laden apocalypse that we're used to seeing on our screens. For once it's nice to see something other than zombies threatening mankind with extinction. The use of dual protagonists is deceptively simple as well, and you'll find yourself rooting for Caesar's rebel apes just as much as your fellow humans.

If Michael Bay's messy forays into the world of CGI-action movies have left you sickened and disheartened, then Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes is the perfect antidote. Smart, thrilling, emotionally engaging, and over far too soon, it's everything that Transformers: Dark Of The Moon wasn't. That alone should be reason to see it.

4/5

The Help (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 16:28:00 +0000

With all the critical attention it's been receiving - including a whole host of Golden Globe nominations - it seems likely that The Help will be one of the forerunners at the Oscars this year. After all, Uncle Oscar has shown us time and time again that there's nothing he likes more than a story of triumph over adversity, particularly when placed in a historical context. Color me cynical if you like, but the Academy's overwhelming love for Oprah-friendly spiritual awakenings explains a lot of the tear-jerking dross that we endure at this time of year.

In the case of The Help, however, it seems likely that Oscar will sit up and take notice, if only because of the impressive box office receipts. The Academy has always struggled to overlook financial success (we're looking at you, James Cameron), and it isn't unreasonable to suggest that the formula of Money + Historical Struggle must surely = Award Glory.

If that's the case, then let's hope that some of that statue-shaped love goes to Viola Davis. While The Help has plenty going for it, novice director Tate Taylor often flubs the result, turning in a movie that feels more like a Hallmark made-for-TV special than a worthy Oscar contender. But with the help of Davis's performance, it's likely that the movie will grace a podium or two come Oscar night. If she doesn't win a statue for this, then Oscar clearly needs to re-prioritize.

There are some other fine performances during The Help's flabby two-and-a-half hour running time as well, particularly from Octavia Spencer and Sissy Spacek - and it's nice to see Emma Stone finally getting the dramatic lead role that she deserves. But it's Davis who steals this show, and if Taylor walks away with an award this season then I sincerely hope that he places it firmly on her mantel.

If you're not already familiar with the story of The Help, then you clearly haven't been following the bestseller charts. Based on the highly successful novel by Kathryn Stockett, it tells the tale of 'Skeeter' Phelan (Emma Stone), a young white woman in early-60s Mississippi who decides to write an oral history of the black maids in the region, and all that they suffer.

Naturally the women aren't eager to speak out when it might lead to recriminations, but thanks to the efforts of Aibileen (Davis) and Minny (Spencer), and more than a little luck, she eventually pieces together a collection of memoirs and recollections that goes on to become a bestseller. That brings its own difficulties - and also, eventually, a few welcome changes.

If that makes The Help sound simplistic, it's not accidental. It's clear where this movie is headed as soon as it starts, and it never really deviates too far from that path - even when it gets distracted by Skeeter's love interest for a short while. Let's face it, there wouldn't be much point (or much interest) in a movie where the racist white landowners win in the final frame.

In fact The Help is so simplistic that it makes several false moves along the way, some of which have led to accusations of racism in their own right. Yes, the portrayals of the African American characters rely heavily on racial stereotypes from the Deep South; and yes, it does take a college-educated white girl to bring them together and give them a voice. It also whitewashes over the sexual harassment that many maids received at the hands of their employers, and offers crude (and rather unnecessary) depictions of the black men in the community as either abusive or absent.

What you have to bear in mind, however, is that The Help is only ever a simplistic depiction of a complex problem during a murky period of our history, and it inevitably glosses over its story with Hollywood's customary glaze. This is historical exploration as entertainment, not a detailed documentary. That it manages to engage us despite these flaws is a credit to the acting talents of Davis, Spencer and Stone, and let's hope that they're not forgotten at the awards ceremonies.

As for Tate Taylor, we'll be keeping our fingers crossed that Oscar doesn't mistake a powerful story for genuinely outstanding filmmaking. The Help certainly demands our attention - but only in the performances does it truly touch upon greatness.

4/5

Our Idiot Brother (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 16:30:00 +0000

As low-budget comedy-dramas go, Our Idiot Brother is curiously likable. What might all too easily have become a pale imitation of Hollywood's preferred slapstick-and-pratfall formula instead turns into a pleasant and amusing - if slightly unremarkable - character-driven comedy, largely thanks to Paul Rudd's charming turn in the title role. If ever there were an argument for Rudd as a Hollywood leading man, then this is it.

Plotwise, there isn't much here that we haven't seen before. Clueless drifter Ned (Rudd) falls on hard times when he sells marijuana to a (uniformed) cop, and he's forced to rely on his three sisters (Elizabeth Banks, Zooey Deschanel, Emily Mortimer) for charity as he tries to scrape his way back to normality. Along the way, his dedication to telling the truth - and his guileless innocence - cause them untold problems, as the lies of their careers, relationships and marriages are exposed.

Do we have to tell you that Ned's innocent interference eventually leads to all four siblings becoming happier and more fulfilled? Of course not - Our Idiot Brother may be a small production, but it still knows the rules of the genre. It'll be no surprise when things finally start to turn around for Ned and his long-suffering sisters.

While Our Idiot Brother doesn't offer many surprises, however, it does deliver the formula with wit and charm, and that's increasingly hard to come by in Hollywood. Paul Rudd channels Jeff Bridges' infamous Dude as he plods a stoned, hippyish path through every disaster, and it's hard not to fall for his unsophisticated naivete. In fact, all three sisters can't help but look bitchy and manipulative in Ned's Christ-like shadow.

As for the humor, it's noticeably patchy in places, and there's no chance of Our Idiot Brother becoming a comedy classic. There are some genuine laughs, though - often thanks to blustering British philanderer Dylan (Steve Coogan) and fellow stoner Billy (T.J. Miller) - and the gaps are pleasantly patched over by Rudd's beaming grin. While this is one movie that won't have them rolling in the aisles, it will at least leave most audiences smiling.

That may not sound like the strongest of recommendations, but as Hollywood dredges the bottom of the barrel for gross-out cussathons and barely-digested toilet humor it's nice to see a pleasant, charismatic comedy deliver the goods. Maybe Our Idiot Brother isn't quite so idiotic after all.

3/5

Beginners (2010)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 16:56:00 +0000

A real-life story of cancer and septuagenarian coming-out may not sound like the formula for a romantic comedy, but there's a lot to be said for the redemptive power of tone. Director Mike Mills' Beginners is based upon his own experiences when his father came out of the closet, five years before his death - but here the subject matter is only half the tale.

The other half is the rather melancholy, but unexpectedly whimsical, world that Mills has his characters inhabit, and it's this that lifts Beginners out of its source material, and turns it into a surprise indie hit. Sure, it helps that Ewan McGregor and Christopher Plummer hand in two subtly nuanced performances that fully deserve the nods they won't get come Oscar night, but it's the tone of the movie that remains longest in your mind. That Mills manages to craft Beginners from such intimate personal experience makes it all the more remarkable.

Much of the film is told in flashback, as Oliver (McGregor) remembers his childhood and his father's final years, when the lie that has lurked in the background his entire life is exposed, and Hal (Plummer) comes out as a gay man. Just as Hal embarks on this new life, though - including a new circle of gay friends and Andy, his much younger boyfriend - he is struck down by cancer.

In the present day, Oliver is struggling with romantic issues himself, as he finds himself approaching forty and still single with a landslide of failed relationships in his past. When he starts dating French actress Anna (Melanie Laurent) it seems that this relationship might end the same way, but as he dwells on his father's recent death he learns some lessons, and a few truths that suggest a different path.

Beginners adamantly refuses to give us easy answers, and it's this complexity that lends it much of its strength. In portraying romantic failure Oliver, Mills refrains from offering judgement - probably because Oliver is loosely based on himself - and in doing so he creates an intriguing enigma at the movie's core. Exactly what Oliver learns isn't entirely clear, but there's little doubt that he emerges from the other side a more complete - and happier - human being.

That offbeat tone helps too, from the witty subtitles given to Oliver's dog Arthur to the unconventional courting of the two damaged lovers. It's hard not to be reminded of similarly quirky (and melancholy) romance Blue Valentine, and Beginners holds its own surprisingly well against one of the year's most critically-lauded movies. If it doesn't quite develop such a satisfactory story arc, it at least offers us something new and unique in its rare depiction of later-life sexuality.

Beginners won't be to all tastes, and its melancholy undertones at times threaten to drown the reserves of goodwill, but as a refreshing and original piece of indie filmmaking it deserves to hold its head high. Mills could have written no better ode to his father than this.

4/5

The Devil's Double (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 16:29:00 +0000

Anyone who's ever watched a Bond film (and I'm guessing that's about 98% of the planet) will tell you that the bad guys always get the best lines. Sure, Bond looks suave enough in a dinner jacket or a skintight Seventies bathing suit; and yes, he always ends up with the girl (or girls). But next to the likes of Dr. No, Scaramanga - and even Odd Job - Bond always looked a little like a cardboard cutout. Albeit a dashingly handsome cutout, obviously.

It's a lesson that New Zealand director Lee Tamahori should have learned. His past credits include 2002's Die Another Day, and while it will never be seen as Bond's finest hour, it at least shows a familiarity with the formula. The fact that he then tried to rebake the Bond recipe into a modern idiom with xXx: State of the Union shouldn't necessarily be held against him.

With The Devil's Double, however, Tamahori runs into the age-old Bond dilemma again - a villain who's far more interesting than his purely-vanilla protagonist. That both are played by Dominic Cooper says much for the actor's range, but does little to remedy the lopsided screenplay.

The Devil's Double is keen to point out its pedigree as a true story whenever possible, and Michael Thomas's script at least has the commercial nous to foreground its basis in some truly incredible facts. Latif Yahia (Cooper) was one of the Iraqi soldiers selected to act as doubles for Saddam Hussein's son, Uday (also Cooper), during the later years of his regime. Latif is offered no choice in the matter, and before long he finds himself forced to tolerate the company and friendship of a man whom he fears and despises - as any sane person would.

It's here that The Devil's Double begins to encounter problems, however, because the double never comes close to being as intriguing as the devil himself. Uday was a violent, sadistic, unpredictable, and almost certainly mentally unstable figure, and Cooper gives him the full range of quirks and extravagances here, turning in one of the most complete portrayals of unhinged power that we've seen in recent years. It's a cautionary tale for over-indulgent parents everywhere.

The same can't be said of Latif. While Uday is dynamic but utterly destructive, Latif is forced to follow the do-gooder's path of disapproval and moral rectitude - and that's a path with few surprises. We can't help rooting for Latif in the inevitable clash of personalities (if you don't, I'd suggest employing a therapist), but he always feels like a hollow shell of moral fiber and unremarkable heroics next to Uday's crazed energy.

Perhaps this flaw was always built into the 'true' story of such an unlikely alliance, but it would have been nice to have felt just a little empathy with our earnest hero. Instead you'll find yourself hoping Latif breaks free - but counting down the minutes until Uday lights up our screen again.

That both are played by Dominic Cooper lends The Devil's Double an unusual dynamic, and this alone makes it worth seeing. In the future, though, we'd like to see more of Cooper's explosive villainy please.

3/5

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 16:35:00 +0000

As the Harry Potter series has progressed, the wizarding youth seem to have almost completely forgotten about the vicarious thrills of Quidditch - and thank heavens for that. While the early movies relied heavily upon the quirky - but childish - charms of first few books, the later stories have always had a far darker purpose in mind. If your kids already love the antics of the early Potter films, you may want to put a lock the Deathly Hallows while you can.

Part 2 of the Deathly Hallows at least lacks some of Part 1's bleakness, as plot threads are resolved, wrongs are righted, and battles are fought. If you found Part 1's negative tone to be too much of a downer, then Part 2 throws some much-needed fire and fury back into the mix.

We won't bother dissecting the plot here - there seems to be little point. You've either already watched the first seven films in the series, or you haven't bothered (although how you've managed to avoid the largest cultural phenomenon of the last twenty years will forever remain a mystery). If you're a fan, then suffice it to say that the final battle is upon us, with all the sacrifices and revelations that implies. If you're not - well, there's this boy called Harry Potter...

Deathly Hallows: Part 2 certainly provides a satisfying conclusion to the series, but then it could hardly fail to, given the multi-bestselling source material. The plot moves along thick and fast, as do the action sequences, and you'd better pay attention if you want to keep up. Even better, watch Part 1 again before you start - you might need the recap.

In fact, knowledge of all seven Harry Potter movies is something of a prerequisite for watching movie number eight, and while the desire to include every artifact and character from the early stories is sometimes endearing - who wouldn't want to see Gary Oldman as Sirius Black again? - the endless roll call of references does become tiresome after a couple of hours. I should confess that many of them flew way over my head. I guess Harry Potter was never that large a part of my life.

If, like me, you're not a rabid devotee of the series, then there's still plenty to enjoy in Deathly Hallows: Part 2, even if you won't get every little reference and slice of nostalgia. The film does feel rather action-heavy, but watched back-to-back with Part 1 that could simply be taken as the inevitable progression of the narrative. On its own, however, you may slowly tire of one wand-waving contest after another.

As for the actors... well, we already know what to expect here. The Harry Potter movies have always enjoyed the cream of British acting talent, and with the likes of Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Gambon, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, John Hurt and Julie Walters returning to their roles there are plenty of acting chops to admire. A quick word on Ralph Fiennes too: he may be unidentifiable under all that make-up, but he delivers one of the most nuanced performances of the entire series, and deserves credit for doing so much with so little. Maybe the Best Actor Without A Nose statue will be his in 2012.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 still has plenty of flaws, and as a stand-alone movie it largely favors fireworks over subtlety. As the end of an era, however, it does a pretty fine job, and this surely has to be the best possible bookend that we could have imagined to JK Rowling's eight-part epic. As for what comes next - we can only hope that it's half as good...

4/5

Dahmer (2002)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 16:16:00 +0000

There aren't many serial killer movies that can justify the time and money expended on them. If that sounds like a harsh assessment, then flick through the racks of straight-to-dvd junk at your local video store, or just browse the serial killer tag on Amazon. For some reason the sordid exploits of society's most evil men translate all-too-easily into cheap melodrama - and I'm not talking about the fat cats of Wall Street.

In Dahmer we have a true rarity, however: the serial killer biopic that aims to be something more than mere true crime porn. In fact, if you're looking for a real life slasher flick then you'd better look elsewhere, because director David Jacobson clearly had his sights set on something higher.

That's not to say that he always succeeds. Trying to present real-life murder without glamorizing or over-dramatizing is a tall order, and one that Jacobson isn't quite able to fulfill. While Dahmer stands a notch or two above much of the competition, it still falls short of its lofty goals.

In part this is due to the nature of Jacobson's subject, and anyone who has watched Silence of the Lambs will tell you that even the best serial killer thriller has to rely on melodrama at times, just to escape the inevitable banality of death. Dahmer adamantly refuses to glorify (or gorify) its subject's crimes, but it doesn't always have anything to replace them with. At its core we're presented with a sad, emotionally cold human being, who was so damaged and dysfunctional that he was unable to survive the confines and pressures of society.

It's hardly light entertainment.

Jacobson is persistent in his attempts to understand and demythologize Dahmer, however, and at times he almost succeeds. In part this is due to the energetic visual language he employs, a style that owes much to the disquieting films of David Lynch (the nightclub scene in particular pays an obvious debt to Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me). In picking Lynch as his model, Jacobson at least attempts to draw from a master of the disturbing cinematic arts.

Perhaps his greatest tool, however, is actor Jeremy Renner, whose performance in Dahmer was pivotal in securing him his role in Oscar-winning movie The Hurt Locker. Renner is worryingly believable as Jeffrey Dahmer, the killer who preyed on gay men throughout the 80s and eventually claimed 17 victims. We don't see all of those murders here, as the screenplay instead focuses on Dahmer's development from troubled teen to full-blooded killer - and it's here that Renner truly shines. His portrayal of Dahmer as an angry, intense teen stands in stark contrast to the laidback insouciance of the experienced killer, and he makes this progression all too believable.

Even more remarkable is the fact that Jacobson and Renner together manage to muster some sympathy for the notorious murderer, and it's this empathy that truly raises Dahmer out of the straight-to-dvd mire. When Jeffrey Dahmer sits slumped in front of the TV after his first kill, drunk, numb, and sobbing uncontrollably, we're allowed the briefest glimpse into a truly tormented soul. It may not be the place you wanted to go to, but there's no denying its visual and emotional power.

Dahmer still suffers at times from the melodrama that haunts the killer biopic, and Jacobson struggles to craft a satisfying finale - but its blend of artistry and challenging subject matter is rare enough to make it stand out. It's little wonder that Renner has gone on to fame and fortune since. We can only hope that he's offered similar challenges in his future, rather than treading the easy Hollywood path.

3/5

Super 8 (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 16:27:00 +0000

In this age of CGI-driven blockbusters and non-stop action franchises, it feels paradoxically refreshing to see an old fashioned summer blockbuster heading up the year's best movies. In Super 8 director-savant J.J. Abrams seems to have finally found his voice, delivering one of 2011's finest films in the process - and wouldn't you know it, it turns out that his voice sounds remarkably like a young Steven Spielberg.

The fact that Spielberg worked as Executive Producer on Super 8 means that this shouldn't come as a great surprise, but it's worth saying again - Super 8 owes a huge debt to the movies of Spielberg's youth. While the great man himself has fallen a little flat of late, Abrams taps into the wide-eyed wonder that made the likes of E.T., Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Spielberg-written The Goonies such huge hits in the late-Seventies and early-Eighties.

Hopefully that's enough to get you interested in Super 8 already - if it isn't, it should be. Sure, it doesn't quite achieve the depth of the movie greats, but it does deliver fun in spades, and you'll actually find yourself emotionally invested in its hi-jinx whether you like it or not. Throw in the strongest child performances of the year and you can see why critics have been drooling.

The action takes place in the town of Lillian, Ohio, and it's fair to say that this small, sleepy town has no idea of what's about to hit. When Joe's (Joel Courtney) mother dies in an industrial accident both he and his father go into silent mourning, but Joe is lucky to have a strong group of friends around him, including amateur filmmaker Charles (Riley Griffiths). Charles is making a zombie movie to enter into competition at a film festival, and he manages to persuade local crush Alice (Elle Fanning) to play the romantic lead.

It's when their small gang heads out to the railway station one night to film a scene that things rapidly begin to head south. A train derails next to them after biology teacher Dr. Woodward slams his truck into it, and our heroes scatter swiftly, relatively unscathed. When weird happenings start to occur around town, however, and people start to go missing, it becomes clear that something not-of-this-Earth has escaped during the derailment.

Most of Super 8 plays out like Cloverfield-meets-The Goonies, and there's a good chance that you'll feel like you've seen much of this before. While Abrams doesn't break much new ground, however, he does remind us that good cinema doesn't always have to be about innovation. Super 8 is a better homage to Spielberg than even Spielberg himself could muster, and if you're hankering after those old-fashioned story-driven movies of your youth then it's a rare treat.

The action is nicely paced too, the 'monster' is hinted at rather than CGI'd to death, and the core of child actors gives a far stronger ensemble performance than anyone had a right to expect. Courtney and Fanning in particular shine as the leads, and there seems little doubt that both have a lucrative career stretching ahead of them.

Super 8 may not be the most original blockbuster of 2011, but with the likes of Transformers: Dark Of The Moon dominating the box office it is undoubtedly one of the best. And if we've seen it all before, then maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

4/5

Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 16:40:00 +0000

When they announced the fourth Pirates Of The Caribbean movie, On Stranger Tides, it seemed like the perfect time for an injection of adrenaline into the flagging franchise. The freshness of the original had been replaced by nonsensical plots and Hollywood excess in the sequels, and the idea of throwing out half the cast - and the director - and starting from scratch sounded like the ideal antidote.

Unfortunately for Jack Sparrow lovers everywhere, however, On Stranger Tides would have been better titled On Worryingly Similar Tides. They may have dumped Knightley and Bloom, but the half-baked romantic subplots remain, and beyond Johnny Depp and Geoffrey Rush there's really not much here to justify pushing the franchise through a fourth ill-conceived treatment.

That's not to say that Rob Marshall's On Stranger Tides is entirely lacking in charm - after all, it still has Captain Jack Sparrow at the helm. No one quite does the modern yo-ho-hoing pirate like Cap'n Jack, and if you're looking for some swashbuckling adventures on the high seas - with a little fantasy-horror thrown in for good measure - then you'll come away reasonably happy.

If you're unimpressed by Hollywood's latest run of inspiration-light blockbusters, however, then On Stranger Tides will feel disturbingly hollow. Even Depp seems to realize that he's drifting on autopilot at times, and with a screenplay this barren it's hard to imagine anything other than an already-plundered treasure chest at its core.

The opening is promising enough, if overly long-winded and erratic in historical detail. Jack Sparrow is in the London of King George II (watch out for the cameo by Dame Judi Dench), where he discovers that someone else is putting together a crew in his name, to sail in search of the fabled Fountain of Youth. When he unmasks the imposter, Angelica (Penelope Cruz), it transpires that the pair have a history - but before Jack can restore his good name he's press-ganged into serving on the ship of notorious pirate and black magician Blackbeard (Ian McShane).

Meanwhile two other parties also search for the Fountain: a Spanish expedition, which always seems to be one step ahead, and Jack's old rival Captain Barbossa (Rush), now minus a leg thanks to Blackbeard. There's a subplot about a clergyman and a mermaid too, but you can ignore most of this unless you're a fan of fantasy bodice-rippers. Even the ending is muddled and misconceived, and On Stranger Tides would have been a stronger film without the distraction.

Ian McShane adds some quality to proceedings with his barrel-chested villain, but unless they decide to bring him back for another installment it's hard to see where the Pirates franchise can sail next. Depp's one-liners aren't as funny or original as they used to be, Cruz adds little more than another foil for Jack's misadventures, while Barbossa seems destined to be slowly whittled away until there's nothing left of him.

Of course, that won't stop Disney from cashing in again on what must surely be their biggest cash cow outside of Pixar. But how much longer Johnny Depp will be prepared to walk this same unsteady path remains to be seen.

3/5

Red State (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 16:06:00 +0000

When Kevin Smith first announced that his next movie would be a horror film, there was a collective intake of breath. Given that his latest comedy, Cop Out, marked a new low in Smith's career, the decision wasn't entirely out of left field - but even so, this was a newsworthy change of tack from the man who brought us Clerks and Zack And Miri Make A Porno. Even the most imaginative fans struggled to imagine what a Kevin Smith-directed horror movie would look like.

As it turns out, we'll have to keep imagining - because Red State isn't really a horror movie at all. Those who were anticipating wise-cracking undead register drones or grotesque zombie porn can breathe a sigh of relief. Red State plays more like a B-movie action thriller than a horror flick, and while it has some nightmarish qualities, everything stays firmly rooted in reality.

That's not to say that Red State is your average Kevin Smith movie either, and it quickly becomes clear that he was sincere about his change of direction - he just misled us as to where he was heading. Instead of fashioning himself into the next John Carpenter, Smith seems to have set his sights on Quentin Tarantino's career, crafting a wild, gore-splattered ride through B-movie territory with a wink and a smile.

If this sets your pulse racing again, then you may want to slow down a second. While Red State certainly falls into similar territory to Tarantino's best work, it's nowhere near as polished, and Smith has a long way to go before he earns the kind of cult following that QT enjoys.

A large part of the problem is his plot, which meanders and stutters so often that you'll be left feeling confused over what Red State is actually about. Three high school boys use an internet dating service to hook up with an older woman (Melissa Leo) who wants a four-way romp - except she isn't all they expected her to be, and before long they're bound and gagged in the basement of a fundamentalist church.

So far, so simple - but it turns out that the boys aren't really the focus of Smith's story (and neither is Leo, come to think of it). Instead the central role oscillates between preacher Abin Cooper (Michael Parks) and ATF Agent Keenan (John Goodman), never really settling on either as they duke it out over the thorny issues of religious freedom, government intervention, and wacko right-wing cultists. It leaves Red State without a clear narrative arc, and as a result the ending comes with a whimper rather than a bang, despite Smith's eye for blustering melodrama.

Maybe it's no surprise that Smith should prove to be less comfortable working within the confines of a plot-driven story. After all, his previous work generally relied on sharp dialogue for its thrills rather than plot twists. With all the gags taken out (apart from the literal kind, of course) his storytelling skills start to look a little thin.

Fortunately his actors are there to pick up the slack, though, because between them Parks and Goodman lift the script out of what might have been a true B-movie mess. Parks is engaging and frenetic as the fervent pastor, but it's Goodman who really draws us in, delivering one of the finest performances of his not-inconsiderable career. Forget every John Goodman role you've seen before - here he's downtrodden, brow-beaten, and the most intense screen presence in a movie that already has the intensity dialed up to eleven. It's his best work since Barton Fink, and one can only assume that Kevin Smith is already praising him as his own personal savior.

So where does that leave Red State? For those who want twists and action, there's plenty of both, and Smith still has a visual and verbal flair that's hard to deny. Those who prefer their movies to have some emotional engagement, and maybe a coherent plot, will be disappointed, however. Just like Smith's central message, the plot comes out as an impenetrable tangle of lost ideas and dead ends, and the film will leave you wondering who you were supposed to be rooting for all along.

Maybe God should have descended and smitten them all after all. Apart from John Goodman, of course.

3/5

Attack The Block (2011)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 17:08:00 +0000

If you've grown sick of Hollywood's bloated action movies over the last few years, and are secretly craving some good ol' fashioned low-budget thrills - I'm thinking of John Carpenter here, or Roger Corman - then there's little doubt that you'll want to check out Attack The Block.

That's not to say that first-time director Joe Cornish is in any way another Carpenter or Corman. Anyone who's caught his Adam and Joe Show appearances will know him better as a comedian than a director, and costar Adam Buxton has made a name for himself in comedy too, with his appearance in Hot Fuzz marking his career peak to date. There's certainly nothing to suggest that Cornish would be the next creature-feature sensation.

Attack The Block undoubtedly falls into that category, however, as it updates the cheap sci-fi thriller for the 21st century. Think of it as Assault On Precinct 13-meets-Not Of This Earth. With texting.

If that makes Attack The Block sound like a tacky B-movie, then I've done it a disservice - for this is a well-crafted, perfectly paced movie that isn't afraid to carve out its own niche. From the South London slang to the Rabid Ewok monsters, Cornish brings a unique vision to his debut feature without compromising on the excitement. It's fair to say that Attack The Block is simultaneously reminiscent of some of the low-budget action classics, and like nothing you've ever seen before.

It's November 5th, Bonfire Night, and fireworks are exploding across the London skyline. Amidst the explosions and mayhem the crash-landing of an alien meteor almost goes unnoticed. A group of young hoodie-wearing hoodlums come across the crashed extra terrestrial, however - and proceed to beat it to a pulp. They then drag it to see their pot-dealing friend, to see if they can stow it away and sell it to the press the following morning. It's probably E.T.'s worst nightmare.

This is only the beginning of their troubles, though, as it turns out that the creature they killed was a female - and there are hundreds of angry, horny males following close behind. As they descend on the council block our teen antiheroes have to fight for their lives, desperately trying to escape the rabid creatures and formulate anything resembling a plan.

What makes Attack The Block so refreshing is the combination of a savvy script and some intriguing visuals, the monsters leaping out of the dark like the warped personification of London's graffiti. By weaving his inner city setting together with the creature feature formula, Cornish has managed to create something that thrills on every level. When you bear in mind that he only has one mildly-bankable star (frequent Simon Pegg collaborator Nick Frost) this becomes a clear message to Hollywood - put your story ahead of your actors, and you'll come out smiling every time.

Of course, there may be some who find the London dialect too dense to take in, or the monsters too fuzzy to truly terrorize. But Attack The Block still stands as one of the most exciting debuts in recent memory, and a fine testament to the triumph of vision over bankroll. and enthusiasm over experience. Plus there are enough laughs for Joe Cornish (the comedian) to hold his head high.

Respect due.

4/5

The Next Three Days (2010)

noreply@blogger.com (Dan Coxon) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 16:49:00 +0000

Anyone who's followed the career of director/screenwriter Paul Haggis will know that he's lived a charmed life. Starting out in TV with the likes of Due South and Walker, Texas Ranger, Haggis somehow managed to turn those humble beginnings into a solid Hollywood career. His 2004 writer-director credit on Oscar-nominated thriller Crash certainly helped, but it's hard to believe that the man behind lovable Mountie Benton Fraser also wrote the screenplays for both Casino Royale and Quantum Of Solace.

All of which makes The Next Three Days a disappointment. While not exactly bad, it's not exactly great either, and even if you can get beyond the ridiculous hole-filled plot and flabby opening hour the payoff feels emotionally light. This is closer to Walker, Texas Ranger than it is to Crash.

Still there are plenty of plot twists for those who like their thrillers to have a few surprises up their sleeves, and while the casting of Russell Crowe is slightly dubious (he spends most of the film looking tired and irritable) both he and Elizabeth Banks put in solid performances in the lead roles. Just don't expect to care what happens to them.

Lara Brennan (Banks) is accused of murder after the body of her boss is found in a parking lot, and all the evidence seems to point in her direction. Under normal circumstances you'd expect a Hollywood movie to spend all its time protesting her innocence, but here that never becomes an option - perhaps the most obvious sign that The Next Three Days is actually based upon a French movie, Pour Elle.

Instead, all the attempts by her husband John (Crowe) to have her conviction overturned meet with dead ends, and it looks like Lara may be spending a long, long time behind bars. John finally reaches the conclusion that his only option is to break her out of prison, aided by some inside info from veteran escapee Damon Pennington (Liam Neeson, in a brief cameo) - and it's here that all sense of reality starts to fly out the window.

Sure, husbands have tried to break their wife out of jail before - but John Brennan is supposed to be an honest, intelligent, respectable college tutor, and it's hard to buy his sudden dip into the criminal lifestyle. Maybe we're supposed to assume that he's reached the end of his tether, but Crowe doesn't look distraught so much as grouchy. And frankly, if I was about to stage a prison break I'd have tried to lose those few extra pounds.

The escape plan is complicated by the fact that Lara and John have a son, Luke, and it's this that makes John's actions even more unbelievable. Perhaps we might have bought that he was desperate to see his wife again, even to the extent of staging a prison break - but at the expense of his son? John largely ignores Luke for much of the film, before putting his life in danger by bringing him along when they're on the run from the law. He may be a devoted husband, but as a father he sucks.

It's this selfish streak that makes John and Lara surprisingly unlikable, and immediately shoots down any chance of empathy. Perhaps we're supposed to assume that John would do anything for love - but instead, it just seems that he'd do anything to get back in bed with Elizabeth Banks.

The Next Three Days still boasts some impressive twists (which I won't go into here, for obvious reasons), and the action sequences are nicely handled - but there's a lack of emotional involvement that ultimately makes it fall flat. What we're left with is a solid two hours of Prison Break-style entertainment, but nothing more. Maybe Paul Haggis's charmed life has reached its limit.

3/5