Speaking as someone whose taste for adventure doesn’t stretch much further than going to the dairy in the rain, the reckless self-endangerment represented by Joachim Rønning and Espen Sandberg’s Kon-Tiki was a genuine eye-opener. The bones of the story are well-known enough to anyone who built balsa models of Heyerdahl’s raft at primary school in the 1970s but bear repeating here.

While researching native Tahitians in the late 1940s, Norwegian ethno-explorer Thor Heyerdahl posited a theory that the islands of Polynesia had originally been settled by sailors from South America (actually, bearing in mind the technology of the time they would have been more like the drifters from South America, but hey). Unable to persuade anyone in the scientific community, he was forced to experiment on himself. He went to Peru, built a raft, crewed it with other northern European adventurers and set off to find Polynesia.

With little or no experience, training or even aptitude, it was a giant leap of faith – Thor’s faith. Unable to steer, threatened by sharks and – for most of the time – without radio contact, it was a completely potty idea but an idea that transformed our knowledge of human development and changed history.

While that choice gives audiences spectacular – mostly non-digital – vistas and epic photography, not every aspect of the film works so well. Choosing to shoot two versions of the film simultaneously (we get the English rather than Norwegian one) means that the dialogue is often a little stilted and the fake beards unfortunately reminded this viewer of the straggly old castaway character who used to introduce Monty Python’s Flying Circus. If you know who I’m talking about, I have now ruined Kon-Tiki for you. Sorry.

Choosing film entertainment on the basis of the production company can have mixed results. There’s Pixar, obviously, Miramax used to have a decent brand reputation when the Weinsteins owned it but The Weinstein Company – their replacement – is more hit and miss. I’d like to draw your attention to Participant Media, a name you might have seen on a few decent pictures over the last few years without making much of a connection between them.

Founder Jeff Skoll made a fortune as “second employee” of eBay and put up $100m of his own money to found Participant in 2004. Their philosophy flies in the face of standard Hollywood practice by having an agenda – at least that is another agenda, apart from making money. Participant makes films that are socially relevant and by that I mean, they attempt to mix entertainment with advocacy, action with partisanship. The films are also carbon neutral, too.

They’ve had their name on the worthy and the worthwhile – recent films like Spielberg’s Lincoln, Larraín’s No and Tate Taylor’s The Help, as well as documentaries Waiting for “Superman” and Errol Morris’s Standard Operating Procedure . Which begs the question, why are they producing a film starring The Rock?

It’s a question easily answered once you’ve seen Ric Roman Waugh’s thriller Snitch. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson plays a businessman struggling with the economic downturn. When his estranged son stupidly accepts delivery of some ecstasy tablets from a buddy south of the border, the unforgiving justice system comes down hard and the mandatory minimum sentences leave no room for sentiment. Looking at ten years for a first offence, the son (Rafi Gavron) is offered a deal – rat out some dealers and get a lighter sentence. The only problem is that the kid doesn’t actually know any drug dealers.

Desperate for a solution, Johnson offers to go undercover himself. He’ll run drugs across state lines in his company’s trucks, the feds will get their evidence and his son will get to come home. It’s a high stakes game and Johnson is particularly good at playing the naive and inexperienced family man instead of the cocky and confidant action hero we usually see. (He’s still built like a brick outhouse but he plays low status pretty well here, at least until the explosive finale.)

I liked Snitch a lot more than I was expecting to. Taken alongside Eugene Jarecki’s recent documentary The House I Live In, it makes a compelling case for fixing a broken judicial and political system. There’s always potential for cliché in these sort of things – and casting Michael Kenneth Williams (The Wire’s Omar) as a drug dealing kingpin doesn’t really help no matter how good he is – but for the most part Snitch takes a downbeat path and is all the better for it.

Finally, naming your film Broken seems like a sure-fire way to prevent casual audiences from checking you out. In the case of Rufus Norris’s artfully constructed drama that would be a shame as there’s a lot to like, not least a striking central performance from newcomer Eloise Laurence. She plays eleven-year-old girl Skunk, the nexus of a cul-de-sac full of households populated by various degrees of dysfunction. The plot does pile things on a bit thick – too thick for credulity – but the film has a dream-like quality that I found quite appealing when I wasn’t being upset.

[Cross-posted to Funerals & Snakes]

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You know the drill. You go to the same bar every week and pay tons for booze, and have to deal with a loud crowd who are just there to be seen and who talk through the music you’ve paid to see, and you just think “ugh! I hate this, it’s all the same and it’s crap”.  Well hopefully Sarah Smythe and Thomasin Sleigh have the solution for you.

The pair have teamed up to produce  a series of gigs are taking place in old halls around Wellington throughout 2013, going by the name Old Hall Gigs.

“Old Hall Gigs was created because we were dreaming of non-rowdy places to listen to our favourite bands. It is a roving series of events taking place in halls around Wellington. The events will allow for close listening and attentive watching.

Each Old Hall Gig will include readings from local writers (thanks to Hue & Cry), work by visual artists, and contemporary dance. There will also be performances by solo musicians and bands from unexpected genres. Whilst the title of the series implies music events, we enjoy a lot of different types of art, so each evening will be a carefully callibrated couple of hours of visual and aural activity.

Old Hall Gigs hopes to reinvigorate some of the community halls around Wellington and to encourage each local community to take part and share these events with their families and neighbours.

The first event will take place on Saturday 18 May at the elegant Vogelmorn Hall in Brooklyn.

The line up for the night includes the beautiful music of Wellington-based duo Glass Vaults, a sculptural installation by the artist collective of Sarah Hudson, Bridget Reweti, Terri Te Tau, and Erena Baker, readings by bright young poets Lee Posna and Hera Lindsay Bird, and a solo violin piece by composer Tristan Carter. Also: it’s BYO – bring your own cup as well.

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The 2009 Star Trek reboot went into production on the eve of the writers’ strike and therefore had no right to be as entertaining – or to make as much sense – as it did. In fact, it was so successful that it has become the gold standard of dormant franchise resuscitation and I’m hoping that the lessons – what to honour, what to ignore, the mix of knowing humour and state-of-the-art action – are taken on board by the forthcoming Superman blockbuster Man of Steel.

A re-watch of Star Trek on Wednesday night confirmed my thoughts from the original review. It worked so well, on so many levels, that by the end I was eagerly anticipating my Friday night reunion with Christopher Pine‘s Kirk, Zachary Quinto‘s Hot Spock, etc. So, it is with a heavy heart then, that I have to report feeling let down by Star Trek Into Darkness. Everything seems a lot more self-conscious than before, as if the filmmakers have just realised that there are a squillion people watching and they’d better not make a mess of things. Which usually means that’s exactly what happens.

Not long after the Federation has been saved in the first film, our heroes are out exploring the galaxy, getting into trouble. As punishment for violating the Prime Directive (and incomplete paperwork), Kirk is relived of the Enterprise command but before he has time to properly lick his wounds, a terrorist bombs Starfleet’s London office and threatens to kick off an intergalactic (intra-galactic?) war with the Klingons.

I also don’t get the fuss over Benedict Cumberbatch, but more about that another day.

Song for Marion opens with one of the ten best songs ever written – Charlie Rich’s “The Most Beautiful Girl (In the World)” – so puts multiple brownie points in the bank before a line is spoken. Terence Stamp plays taciturn Arthur, grudgingly escorting his ailing wife Marion (Vanessa Redgrave) from their modest bungalow to the hall on the local estate so she can sing with her mates while he sullenly smokes outside.

Marion’s choir is organised and led by a perky young schoolteacher (Gemma Arterton) and she is determined for them to enter a local competition. Arthur is worried that Marion’s health is not up to the extra work involved and when his fears are realised he withdraws even further into himself, to the extent of alienating his own son (the always welcome presence of Christopher Eccleston) and granddaughter.

But this is a feel-good – uplifting – movie, not something by Michael Haneke, so the pleasures are to be had in the turnaround. Song for Marion could not exist without the brilliant documentary about a pensioners’ choir, Young @ Heart , which dissolved me into a puddle on the floor of the Embassy back in 2007. It milks the inevitable humour less successfully but hits the sentimental target, helped by Stamp’s vanity-free performance and Redgrave’s warmth. Viewers of a sensitive disposition are warned to vacate the cinema before Celine Dion starts warbling over the closing credits.

Marion and Arthur may argue otherwise but it’s a universal truth that “dying is easy – comedy is hard”. This is the main lesson that Colin Firth can take from the caper movie Gambit in which he plays a frustrated art historian trying to defraud his boorish employer by means of a forged Monet and a beautiful Texan chicken plucker. It’s very rare to see a film with such promising individual contributors (a script by the Coen Brothers for starters, Alan Rickman as the media tycoon, Cameron Diaz as a not-so-dumb blonde) fail to click to quite this degree but here we are.

Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers arrives on our shores with quite a reputation for all sorts of cultural and social transgressions, but I found it to be an old-fashioned morality tale dressed (scantily) in music video apparel. It’s the clash between what actually happens to the characters and how their story is presented that makes Spring Breakers both interesting and at the same time fairly repulsive.

Four teenage girls (Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, Ashley Benson, Rachel Korine), desperate to join their friends on the Florida beaches for Spring Break, rob a diner, torch a car and blow the takings on blow before getting busted by the local cops. Feeling a tiny bit sorry for themselves at this point – but not sorry for anyone else – they are bailed out by bejewelled playa James Franco who introduces them to a genuinely criminal underworld.

It’s one of the interesting things about cinema – that the camera can make glorious the ugly and profane but also turn beauty into something foul, sometimes just by making us conscious of our own gaze. Spring Breakers spends a great deal of time objectifying pretty drunken girls on beaches, but the narrative also punishes the transgressors in quite traditional ways. I think what I’m saying is this – Spring Breakers is more interesting as a cultural artefact than it is as a movie.

The marvellous documentary Maori Boy Genius was one of my picks of 2012 and I’m pleased to note that it is now getting a decent cinema release so more people can be exposed to the charming young New Zealander Ngaa Rauuira Pumanawawhiti. Only 16 during filming, Ngaa Rauuira shows great promise as a scholar and a leader and Pietra Brettkelly’s film follows him as he takes on the immense challenge of studying international politics at Yale University. This is only the beginning for a fascinating young man.

[Cross-posted to Funerals & Snakes]

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As mentioned previously, Jarrod Baker’s Songs for My Infant Daughter, promises to “make laughs come out of your face-hole”. As the possessor of no fewer than three face holes (sorry, I didn’t mean to brag) I decided to see if this was in fact the case.

Coming off the back of the hilarious Worst Songs of the 90s (in which Jarrod played the most cringe-worthy music from the 90s in a comical fashion), SFMID follows a similar vibe with Jarrod telling wonderfully funny stories of his time as a new father. Not only dealing with poo, but also his thoughts on his daughter’s future and whether he will be a good father.

But the songs are the thing. Jarrod fills his set with various songs that are either softened versions of hip-hop and pop songs or original material for teaching life lessons. As with his Worst Songs show the music is excellent and you begin to worry that he might actually sing these songs to his baby. [Side note: we chatted to his wife after the show and yes he does]

I can also confirm that there were no domestic violence jokes and, if that sort of thing is how you choose your comedians, there was a very strong gender equality theme. So hey, positivity!

So get along! And if this very basic review doesn’t sway you, then check out this tweet from the man himself:

To sweeten the deal there’ll be a limited number of two-for-one tickets available between 12pm and 3pm today via comedyfestival.co.nz #rtp

— Jarrod Baker (@ghettoanger) May 8, 2013

JARROD BAKER
Songs for my infant daughter
The Fringe Bar
cnr Cuba and Vivian Streets, Wellington
Wednesday 8 – Saturday 11 May 2013, 10pm
Tickets $16/$12 from Ticketek

Disclosure: I MC roller derby with Jarrod and I totally got sweet free tickets to opening night.

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Last week, we gave away a pass t0 Raybon Kan’s comedy show as a favour to a friend. On hearing about what his show contained, I am so very sorry we did. Jokes about Chris Brown beating his girlfriend? Not okay.  Here are some handy New Zealand statistics from Women’s Refuge

• One in three women experience psychological or physical abuse from their partners in their lifetime
• On average 14 women, six men and 10 children are killed by a member of their family every year
• Police are called to around 200 domestic violence situations a day – that’s one every seven minutes on average.
• Police estimate only 18% of domestic violence incidents are reported.

We have a problem in this country, and thinking that just because someone is famous it’s okay to laugh about them doesn’t help.

But laughter in general is still a good thing! So we took to Twitter asking for comedy shows we’d be happy to promote. Here’s the Wellingtonista’s guide to comedy without the domestic abuse:

• The Ruminator recommends Jarrod Baker’s Songs for My Infant Daughter, which are probably inappropriate for children, but promise to make laughs come out of your face-hole.
• Hadley Donaldson offers up The Cool Dudes Present Good Times With Cool Dudes 2 : 2 Dudes 2 Cool 4 U  and adds “No horrible hateful stuff or your money back”.  No matter what Jarrod says, it won’t be 55 sweet minutes of men’s rights activism.
• Adam Wright says he really sticks it to dehumidifiers,  but no jokes about violence of any kind. His show Gloriously Average opens tonight.
• Brad Zimmerman’s show Skydiving With My Mum contains zero domestic violence. It does, however, mention skydiving… and mums.
• Joseph Moore will be telling Dope As Jokes at the Fringe Bar.
• Thrills & Swoons offer up romance novel-based improv. “None of that [domestic violence] crap here, just melodrama and love. At @BATS_Theatre this week”.

We’d love to hear from some women as well – feel free to promote your own shows in the comments.

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It’s easy to laugh at ageing movie stars. Crumbs, when they make films like The Expendables they actively encourage us to make jokes about creaking joints and dicky hips. But let us pause for a moment and salute the longevity of one of the greatest movie stars there ever was, someone who was headlining box office smash hits when Arnold was still just pumping iron and Bruce was still at High School.

Robert Redford – the “Sundance Kid” – is 76 years old and in his new film, The Company You Keep, he does quite a bit of running around even though you can see he has the slightly uncertain gait of someone whose balance isn’t what it was. He rations out that million dollar smile pretty carefully too, as this is another of his serious politically-aware dramas – couched in the form of a thriller.

Redford – who also directs – plays progressive small town lawyer Jim Grant, a widower with a sparkling twelve-year-old daughter (Jacqueline Evancho). When he turns down the chance to represent Susan Sarandon‘s former domestic terrorist, who is captured nearby, local reporter Shia LaBeouf starts digging into his background and finds some dangerous surprises. Grant is forced to go on the run with LaBeouf (and the FBI) chasing him and other pensioners like Julie Christie and Nick Nolte all around the Midwest.

So far, so engaging. The scenario is inspired by the real life Weather Underground, a left-wing militia that either blew up or set fire to, various Government targets to protest the Vietnam War. Another fanciful version of their supposed lives on the run, Running on Empty, starred River Phoenix in 1988.

I wish I had enjoyed The Company You Keep more as it is the kind of material that is usually right up my alley. The problem here is of the fish/fowl variety – not enough politics for the politics junkies and the thriller never rises above tepid. This is an imperfect analogy, so forgive me, but it’s as if (late period) Woody Allen tried to direct a Bourne movie.

Returning from the very strong French Film Festival, we have two dramas that are a study in contrasts – Canadian co-production Rebelle (akaWar Witch) by Kim Nguyen and Christian Vincent’s Haute Cuisine (aka Les saveurs du Palais, the literal translation of which is The Flavours of the Palace which is much better than the horrible cliché that actually got attached to it).

War Witch is a remarkable magical realist portrayal of the tragedy of child soldiering in one of Africa’s many civil wars. The phenomenal Rachel Mwanza plays Komona, kidnapped from her village by the rebel army and forced to murder her own parents. She is the only one to survive the new company’s first action and superstitious commanders start to believe that she is a lucky charm, hence “War Witch”.

Hypnotic, beautiful, upsetting – War Witch is an extraordinary achievement, totally deserving of an Academy Award nomination against Amour and No earlier this year. By any definition, this isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea but I’m going to highly recommend it anyway.

In the slender Haute Cuisine, Catherine Frot plays Hortense Laborie, plucked from rural obscurity to run the private kitchen for President François Mitterand while he was President of the French Republic. He wants to eat nostalgically and her authentic recipes and fine fresh ingredients fit the bill. As food movies go, this gets the presentation of the actual cuisine very right. Every dish looks like it has been plucked straight from the oven, and even though this reviewer may not have been won over by cabbage stuffed with salmon, you can see the care and attention that has gone into every dish.

I just wish I could say the same for the story, which lacks drama – a fundamental flaw you might think – and uses a rather redundant framing device of Mme Laborie cooking in Antarctica to emphasise the subtext of a dedicated, middle aged, career woman professionally going about her craft while misunderstood but not unappreciated.

With Antiviral, Brandon (son-of-the more-famous-David) Cronenberg has made an object lesson in intelligent low budget horror. In the near future, our obsession with celebrity will have become so grotesque that fans will be injecting themselves with viruses harvested from their favourite screen stars, in order to get even closer to them. A licensed market for these wee bugs is being undermined by piracy and counterfeiting and thus Antiviral manages to bring the entire zeitgeist rather nicely to the boil. Although the film drifts a little in the final third, the premise – and the clever construction of a future world out of today’s everyday items – makes the film a worthwhile watch and Cronenberg a name to keep an eye on.

Last year the Embassy played a one-off screening of Jurassic Park on DCP and they are now playing the 3D version. For reasons of science, then, I sat myself in the very same seat as last year so I could compare the two formats and help guide you on whether the extra D is worth it. The answer, I can report, is a firm “maybe”. After all, the original made $350m in 1993 so I think it’s fair to say that no one was holding out, hoping for a 3D version at the time.

The conversion is perfectly fine – though not to the level of Cameron’s Titanic last year – and 3D gives Spielberg’s elegant direction a helping hand with some of the more thrilling dinosaur moments. If you haven’t seen this film on the big screen since it was first released, I can recommend you check it out this time, though I can’t imagine the 3D version will end up as the definitive way to see it.

The post New at the Movies: The Company You Keep, Rebelle (War Witch), Haute Cuisine, Antiviral and Jurassic Park 3D appeared first on The Wellingtonista.

Every month the Underground Market has a larger Theme Market with more specialty stalls. This Saturday it’s about wool, things made from wool, and things to do with wool. So quite surprisingly they call this speciality event the Wonders of Wool. It runs from 10am till 4pm this Saturday May the 4th.

Some of the better known indie dyers at the market are Auckland’s Happy Go Knitty, Verandah Yarns, Joy of Yarn and knitsch from Holland Road in Petone. Plus you can expect a myriad of hand knits and knitting tools to go with all the yarn.

Tash from Holland Road Yarn, will be there with her own knitsch range of hand dyed yarn (and I’ve seen Tash’s hands after a dyeing session and confirm it’s all done by her). other yarns and loads of tool for turning your yarn onto an object. Over at the Holland Road website you can win a twice as nice ticket to Handmade 2013  (more about that next week)

Happy Go Knitty is doing a few special things ahead of and at the market, the first 10 customers on the day will get a wee gift! and if you head over to her website and leave a comment you can win a FREE skein of yarn! or 25% discount on that day’s purchase!

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Everyone likes jokes, right? And everyone likes something for free. So would you like to win a double pass to the opening of Raybon Kan‘s comedy show on May 7?

Fresh from recording his first live stand-up DVD, Raybon Kan returns to the NZ International Comedy Festival with his most hard hitting hilarious show yet, Raybon without a cause.  An all-new hour full of his trademark verbal assaults on everyday icons, Raybon Without A Cause opens in Wellington on May 7th and Auckland on May 15th.

“People don’t think of me as a rebel,” says Raybon, “but I am.  For example, I’m totally against religion.  But it’s entirely possible that’s a religious belief”

To be in to win, just tell us a joke in the comments (preferably related to Wellington, ala our hilarious one in the pull quote). We’ll draw a winner at random at lunchtime on Monday.

Wellington, Tuesday 7th – Saturday 11th May, 7pm
Foxglove Ballroom, 57 Customhouse Quay, Queens Wharf
Adults $25, Conc $20
Tickets through Ticketek

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Do you ever wonder what happens at the end of the day to the freshly made bread that Wellington bakeries can’t sell? Do you ever wonder what happens to the fresh fruit and vegetables at the markets that are still edible but not good enough to sell?

I can tell you.

For the last few years there have been some magical elves who travel around Wellington, collect up this food and deliver it the next day to 23 different charities which work with disadvantaged or struggling people throughout Wellington.

These elves also operate under the pseudonym Kaibosh

They act as the link between those in the food industry who want to do good things and the charities that are doing the front line work to help those in need. Kaibosh is the great enabler.

That’s a whole lotta goodness

They recently won the Supreme Award at the TrustPower National Community Awards for the amazing work they’ve done over the last five years.

BUT that’s just not enough for these guys. They want to do EVEN MORE amazing work and spread even more food and more feel-good-goodness through the Wellington region. They want to expand the service they offer to Porirua and the Hutt Valley.

Now, Wellingtonista cannot deny the pleasure gained in the eating of good food and drinks at the many fine establishments we have on offer here in our fair city, but what the people of Kaibosh is suggesting offers pleasure in a different form. The pleasure found in doing a good deed. They ask that instead of going and spending your cash on a meal out you spend that money, or at least a portion of it, on improving the lives of those that need our help.

Now this doesn’t have to be the $200 that you were going to throw down on your fancy celebratory dinner at Martin Bosley’s. All it needs to be is the $10 you were going to spend on fish and chips on Saturday night, or the $15 you were going to spend on lunch to get through the work day. It could even be that $50 you were going to spend on going out to dinner with friends.

Whatever it is that you can afford to donate is going to be a huge help to people in our community. A $10 donation will help provide 17 meals to those that need them. That $10 has such a huge impact and you get that feel good buzz that comes with being a good Samaritan.

To find out more about Kaibosh’s Miss a Meal in May campaign click this link and get that good karma rushing through Wellington like a good strong southerly.

The post What a Feeling! appeared first on The Wellingtonista.

Whatever they are paying Robert Downey Jr. to play Iron Man, it is is worth every penny. Iron Man 3, the third instalment in his own branch of the Marvel Universe series that also features Captain America, The Mighty Thor and The Hulk is hurtling towards a billion dollars of box office revenues and might just have broken even on the $200m production costs by the time you read this.

I’m not sure that there is a better technician in commercial cinema than Downey. Even when he is poorly – or not even – directed in films like the last Sherlock Holmes or the last Iron Man, he is never less than watchable, but when he is challenged by a director and the material he is up there with the best ever. The name Cary Grant just popped in to my head and I think the comparison is reasonable.

This blockbuster just happens to be co-written and directed by Shane Black, a lost Hollywood legend in his own right, whose Kiss Kiss Bang Bang in 2005 restarted Mr. Downey Jr.’s career while not doing much for his own. Black wrote the first Lethal Weapon film in 1987, The Last Boy Scout for Bruce Willis in 1991, Last Action Hero for Arnold in 1993 and then all but disappeared. He’s lost none of his action movie chops though, as IM3 trucks along with enough explosions and wisecracks to keep anyone happy.

It’s only with the help of a cute kid sidekick (Ty Simpkins), the military-badged Iron Man known as “War Machine” (Don Cheadle) and Ms. Potts herself, that Stark can overcome this maniac threat to democracy and recover his own peace of mind. Stark is still an ass, of course, but he’s a vulnerable ass. That’s Downey Jr.’s genius, of course – to hint at the depths of Stark’s sorrow, the little boy trying to live up to his Dad’s legacy, covering it all up with quips and gags.

Iron Man 3 is terrific entertainment – the best value for money you’ll find at the multiplex so far this year and the rest of this year’s comic book capers have a lot to live up to. One word about the great Ben Kingsley: if RDJ himself could get an Academy Award nomination for Tropic Thunder, Sir Ben should be on next year’s list for IM3. You heard it here first.

Ballet documentary First Position (Bess Kargman) follows several young contenders for the prestigious Youth America Grand Prix, for the winners a ticket to scholarships and careers. The problem is the competition – it’s massive. Hundreds and hundreds of kids from 11 to 19 years of age, from all over the world, going through auditions, heats and semi-finals before getting to strut their stuff in front dozens of judges at one big event in New York City.

As a study in the dedication and disappointment demanded by a life in dance, the film is first rate. The section on injuries alone is as horrific as any of the Saw movies. Parents tempted to introduce their babies to ballet might think again after watching First Position. My beef isn’t with the life, the characters or the message – it’s with the structure of the film itself.

Taking on the will they/won’t they, cliffhanger form that the great Spellbound used to such effect back in 2002 (where a bunch of kids vied for the title of America’s Spelling Bee champion), this film sets these great and worthy characters against each other. They all deserve success and happiness but the competition ensures that some will fail and I’m not sure that it’s all that satisfying to watch someone you’re rooting for miss out. And you’re rooting for them all.

Finally – for the sake of completeness – Seth Green’s Identity Thief which I have obviously been attempting to erase from my memory since I saw it a couple of weeks ago. In a version of Denver photographed entirely by the second unit, family man and honest banker Jason Bateman discovers that his carefully nurtured perfect credit rating and unblemished criminal record has been stolen by conscience-free miscreant who now has access to all his credit cards – debased by databased, if you will.

The perpetrator is played by Melissa McCarthy who stole so much of Bridesmaids in 2011 that she was nominated for an Oscar. She’s a gifted performer and an obviously talented improvisor – as I’m sure Mr. Bateman would be if he wasn’t simply coasting along on the strength of his good nature – but the material is so mean-spirited and the targets are so cheap that this isn’t a decent showcase for anyone’s talent. Not as empty a vessel as the Streisand/Rogen vehicle The Guilt Trip which – in my traumatised state – I discover I also forgot to review.

This post first published at Dan Slevin’s Funerals & Snakes blog on Monday 29 April, 2013.

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