Showing posts with label Blue Ruin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Ruin. Show all posts

Friday, 26 December 2014

My Top 30 Films of 2014: 30-21

Happy holidays, everybody. Hope you had a lovely time.

Much like last year, I post this annual best of list with the caveat that I haven't seen as many festival movies as I had in previous years and, in fact, my cinema attendance has been well down overall (for many reasons, including moving to a country where I don't speak the language and where almost everything is dubbed). But like last time around I'm sticking to a top 30 format because of the excuse it provides to revisit a greater number of movies. Even allowing for that fall in attendance and lack of much in the way of serious arthouse cinema-going, 2014 was not a vintage year for cinema. I didn't see anything this year that would have cracked the top five in 2013, though there were still a lot of interesting movies released and many, including a large swathe of those in this first installment, were ultimately flawed and uneven but proved interesting anyway.

30) Edge of Tomorrow, dir. Doug Liman, USA

What I said: "Criminally overlooked this summer by audiences who've become increasingly sick of Tom Cruise over the last decade or so, 'Edge of Tomorrow' is a genuinely smart and thoroughly entertaining piece of high concept sci-fi which takes its cues from video games and features Bill Paxton at his sarcastic, army man best. It also stars Emily Blunt as a highly capable and supremely badass soldier who used to have the strange alien power since acquired by Cruise's combat-shy press officer: an ability to come back to life after being killed, waking up in the same point about a day earlier a la 'Groundhog Day'."



Pretty slick and exciting sci-fi fare featuring a great co-starring performance by Emily Blunt - who proves herself a compelling action lead. There's not a ton more to add about it here so I'll pad this out by musing about the film's title. Originally holding the more eye-catching title 'All You Need is Kill', which was apparently changed because of fears the word "kill" would lack widespread appeal plastered on every bus stop, the film has since been marketed and released on DVD with packaging that seems to further modify the title to 'Live. Die. Repeat.' - which smacks of a complete lack of confidence in "the product" if nothing else. Anyway, whatever it's called it's worth a watch even if you're usually allergic to Tom Cruise.

29) Snowpiercer, dir. Bong Joon-ho, KOR


What I said: "The first half of 'Snowpiercer, 'The Host' and 'Mother' director Bong Joon-ho's maiden English-language effort, is one of the best things I've seen all year. Smart, funny, with inventive action set-pieces and an oddball sense of humour, the highlight being an inspired supporting turn from Tilda Swinton. However the second half of the film is one of the worst movies I've seen this year, from Ed Harris' 'Matrix Reloaded' style clunky, cod philosophy explanation of how his train-based society works to the film's spectacularly misjudged "I know what babies taste like" monologue (which star Chris Evans does his best to sell but it's not happening)."



Some of the most interesting cinematic moments of the year - from Tilda Swinton's shoe monologue to the presentation of a strange, train-based dystopian society to the battle that we see first person through night vision goggles - came in Bong Joon-ho's 'Snowpiercer'. Yet the South Korean has not been as successful as his compatriot Park Chan-wook (a producer here) in translating his talent into English - with last year's 'Stoker' a much more even and satisfying movie. There's a lot to love here, but the second half of the film is so messy and, at times, ridiculous that it doesn't make it any further up the list than this.

28) Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, dir. Matt Reeves, USA

What I said: "Not as tightly focussed or emotionally satisfying as Rupert Wyatt's 2011 'Rise of the Planet of the Apes' - the prequel movie for which this is the direct sequel - as it broadens the focus from one rapidly evolving ape, Caesar (Andy Serkis), to a whole array of primates and significantly less interesting human characters, but Matt Reeves' 'Dawn of the Planet of the Apes' is exciting and filled with great moments. The opening 20 or so minutes are particularly breathtaking, as the film opens on an organised and socialised ape hunting party communicating in sign language whilst chasing deer through the Muir Woods near San Francisco. All the scenes between the apes are really well done, technically and in terms of storytelling, with Caesar and his brethren clearly compelling enough to carry an entire film if Fox so wished, even though it would be a clear break from the apes versus humans formula of the series."



It would be here for that "ape takes a tank" shot alone but there's not a lot wrong with this sequel, even if it doesn't match its immediate predecessor which had the benefit of being less sprawling and focussed on one character. It's Andy Serkis' ape Caesar who remains the most interesting presence here and it's always very good when he's the focus but, perhaps in service of the brand, there are also a lot of less interesting human characters. Many of them, notably Gary Oldman's would-be villain, suffer as a result of not being in the film enough to be interestingly developed but conversely have just enough screentime to make you miss the apes. None of the stuff with the humans is bad necessarily, just not as good.

27) The Boxtrolls, dir. Anthony Stacchi & Graham Annable, USA


What I said: "Not in the same league as 'Coraline' or 'ParaNorman' (the best animated film of this decade so far), but Laika's latest stop-frame animation is still very polished and endearing, with its heart very firmly in the right place. But intention isn't everything, of course, and a cross-dressing villain has perhaps rightly invited criticism that the film is transphobic, which I can't rebuff with any force... This is made all the more unfortunate by the way it undermines the film's great message of tolerance and not being afraid of those who are different from you."



Typically beautiful animation from Laika, though this is easily their least satisfying film, partly because of a potentially transphobic plot twist and partly because the production design is a little drab. Yet it's heart is still very much in the right place, with some interesting things to say to its young audience about a scaremongering media and incompetent authority figures, as well as the perils inherent in trying to be somebody you're not.

26) Blue Ruin, dir. Jeremy Saulnier, USA

What I said: "With a low budget crowd-funded on Kickstarter and a very slight plot, 'Blue Ruin' is a taut thriller that mostly gets by on atmosphere, with the camera often uncomfortably close to Dwight (Macon Blair) who, when we first meet him, is a soft-spoken, reclusive vagrant - apparently sleep-walking through the past several years of his life in a traumatised stupor and living on a beach in a rusted, blue Pontiac. This changes when a local cop informs him that the man who killed his parents is due to be released from prison, prompting Dwight to start moving with a zombie-like single-mindedness on a quest for revenge. He starts up his old car, gets himself a gun, and heads out on a path of endless and empty ultra-violence with no clear winners."


A revenge thriller without the usual romanticism/tawdry fantasy element, 'Blue Ruin' (to my mind anyway) is about the reality of that idea: that revenge is not only a mutually destructive act but also an inherently childish one. Our protagonist is stuck in a juvenile state caused years before by the death of his parents, which he never moved beyond, and finds support on his anti-social rampage in the form of an old high school friend who is equally well adjusted. There's an air of early Coen Brothers menace tinged with black comedy to the whole thing, which on the film's very low budget suggests director Jeremy Saulnier is one to watch.

25) Muppets Most Wanted, dir. James Bobin, USA


What I said: "Disney's sequel to 2011's well loved 'The Muppets' might not hold together as neatly as a movie, lacking that earlier film's pathos and clearly defined character arc, but it's every bit as fun (and possibly more so) thanks to a high gag-count and some typically enjoyable musical numbers from Flight of the Conchords' Bret McKenzie... Also extremely fun to watch is Tina Fey as the Kermit-obsessed warden of the gulag, stealing the show with her performance of one of the film's most toe-tapping songs and getting some of the best gags. It's a bit baggy in places but made with obvious love and a complete lack of cynicism, something backed up by dozens of celebrity cameos which feel less like an attempt to sell tickets and more like genuine expressions of the affectionate regard held for these fading icons within popular culture. 100% joyful from start to finish."


One of the funniest out-and-out comedies of the year and there isn't a duff musical number in the whole thing . I can't decide what the best song is, but it's between the catchy, Tina Fey sung "Big House", Constantine the Frog's disco-infused love song "I Can Give You What You Want", and the "Interrogation Song" as sung by the year's stand-out comedy double-act (Sam the Eagle and a scene-stealing Ty Burrell). I've rewatched it a bunch of times, including one occasion where it made a transatlantic flight feel far less arduous, and I expect I'll watch it many more times over the years.

24) The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, dir. Francis Lawrence, USA


What I said: "It's not as exciting as the second movie or as focussed as the first, but this is the one where the hitherto wobbly political themes start to actually get interesting and take on added weight. In that sense it's the cleverest so far. It's also refreshing to get moving on the wider plot across Panem - outside of the titular games (this film has none) - which finally takes centre stage after being glimpsed at the margins of the previous films. All in all a satisfying run-up to the final chapter that even manages to craft a decent ending out of the arbitrary half-way point as hewn from the source novel."



The added room for character development and the slower pace afforded by the increasingly common, dollar-sign inspired "part 1" format means we get to see the franchise's impressive supporting cast a little more than we otherwise might have if the series was racing towards its conclusion. In terms of action it doesn't hit the highs of the previous movie, 'Catching Fire', but it's clearly head and shoulders above other tween-lit adaptations.

23) Only Lovers Left Alive, dir. Jim Jarmusch, USA


What I said: "Languid and atmospheric - with musing about art, literature and music taking precedence over matters of plot - 'Only Lovers Left Alive' casts two supremely watchable actors, Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston, as Eve and Adam, a pair of above-it-all vampires whose love has spanned the centuries. Making the most out of its compelling leads, slick editing and a terrific soundtrack, the combined effect is something that washes over you for an enjoyable two hours without leaving much in the way of a long-lasting impression. That said, it is interesting to see vampires played as these eternal art critics, whose often downright snobbish opinions are invested with an unassailable amount of cultural capital when compared with us mere mortals."


Perhaps not destined to live long in the memory but Jarmusch managed to do something relatively fresh with vampires, which is an achievement in its own right. With little plot to worry about, the pleasure here comes from listening to one of the year's best soundtracks whilst watching two of the most consistently interesting actors of recent years lounging about, talking about the arts whilst being amusingly world-weary and condescending.

22) Nymphomaniac, dir. Lars von Trier, DEN/BEL/FRA/GER

What I said: "There is always, nagging in the background, the question of morality (to what extent are Joe's actions potentially "wrong") though the film makes no judgments in most instances - except when combatively challenging the judgements of others (for instance regarding the subject of so-called 'sex addiction' and, in it's bravest and best scene, attitudes towards pedophiles). Even its ending, that could read as a pessimistic final judgement on humanity - or, at the very least, men - is more even-handed than it might first appear, with denial of experiencing sexual urges the ultimate villain of the piece rather than an interest in or enjoyment of sexual behaviour itself."



Shown in some territories, including the UK, over two installments, Lars von Trier's latest doesn't really feel like something that's meant to be seen that way. It's one long, disturbing, rambling movie with an arbitrary break in the middle. But taken as a whole film it's always interesting and occasionally brilliant stuff, typically confrontational and sometimes very funny. Charlotte Gainsbourg is brilliant in it as the older version of the sex-obsessed Joe, whilst Uma Thurman is particularly memorable in a one-scene cameo that constitutes one of the funniest scenes of the year, playing like something out of Chris Morris' Jam.

21) Calvary, dir. John Michael McDonagh, IRE/UK

What I said: "Hinging on a stunning central performance by Brendan Gleason, as a good man and dedicated priest in a rural Irish town, 'Calvary' is writer-director John Michael McDonagh's typically tragicomic follow-up to 'The Guard'. Behind that great performance is a screenplay which not only boasts a lot of smart and darkly funny dialogue but also a simple yet ingenious premise... Even-handed to a fault, the supporting cast of broad archetypal characters - played by the likes of Aiden Gillen, Dylan Moran and a particularly superb Chris O'Dowd - air a number of popular (and generally justified) grievances against the church's exploits, whilst in return Lavelle is shown to be a pretty smart and witty guy who more often than not has an amusing rebuttal, even if he doesn't always mount a counter-offensive. It's as much about the Catholic church as an institution as it is about religious belief and the very idea of a good priest - or even a good man - as it is a compelling, occasionally tense crime mystery and acidic, jet-black comedy."



Lower down on this list than it probably should be - I know many people have this near the top of their list and I won't argue - but for me it fell short of matching John Michael McDonagh's first film, 'The Guard', and verging into more melodramatic, emotionally manipulative territory. Still it's beautifully made and Brendan Gleeson has never been better, whilst Chris O'Dowd comes close to stealing the spotlight with a nuanced and complex dramatic performance that suggests a previously unseen depth from an actor more closely associated with playing affable comedic nice guys.

Read entries for films 20-11 here.

Wednesday, 28 May 2014

'X-Men: Days of Future Past', 'Godzilla', 'The Wind Rises', '20 Feet from Stardom', 'Blue Ruin', 'Locke', 'A Story of Children and Film', and 'Tracks'


'X-Men: Days of Future Past' - Dir. Bryan Singer (12A)

Regular readers of this blog will know I'm a huge fan of the Marvel Studios movies to date, with my enthusiasm for 'Captain America: the First Avenger' and 'The Avengers', in particular, leading me to become an avid reader of the comics themselves. I like the Sam Raimi 'Spider-Man' series a lot too (even the third one, with reservations) and I even have time for Ang Lee's much-maligned 'Hulk' and, over on the DC side of things, I am overall a fan of the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy. Yet, even though I'm of that generation that grew up with the Saturday morning cartoon series in the 90s and had parents who owned and loved an extensive collection of the Claremont/Byrne comics, I have never been a huge fan of Fox's X-Men movie franchise. The first one was pretty good - certainly better than I remember expecting it to be after seeing the title characters disappointingly decked out in unexciting black leather outfits - and its direct sequel, 2003's 'X-Men 2', was better still, but I've never been nostalgic about the series at all. And that's in spite of the fact that, with a couple of exceptions, the casting has always been superb.

That cast is probably why the series has limped on within the same continuity for over a decade now, even after the third entry 'X-Men: the Last Stand' killed off several main characters and pissed fans off by being completely terrible in almost every way: how do you recast Ian McKellan as Magneto or Patrick Stewart as Professor Xavier? To say nothing of the fact that Hugh Jackman, a near unknown when he was first cast in 2000, practically is Wolverine. The solution was to go backwards a few years ago with 'X-Men: First Class' (which most seemed to love and I completely hated bar its, again, exceptional casting), keeping the option open of making more Jackman Wolverine movies (2013's 'The Wolverine' was legitimately pretty great, whilst 2009's 'X-Men Origins: Wolverine' is best left forgotten) and enabling the recasting of key roles without inviting the same unkind comparisons that might have persisted had it been a straight-up reboot.

Now, seven movies in to Fox's X-Men movie franchise, they've finally made one I unequivocally love. Bryan Singer, who helmed the first two movies, returned to the director's chair to tell a very X-Men story: one involving not only the comic book series' staple of time travel but also spinning a tale specifically designed to address and repair perceived to an increasingly elaborate and inconsistent continuity. Put that way, 'X-Men: Days of Future Past', which is loosely based on a classic Chris Claremont and John Byrne story, is possibly the most comic book movie ever. The series that once felt the need to make jokes about heroes wearing "yellow spandex" has now fully embraced the madness of comic books and I couldn't have had a bigger smile on my face whilst watching it. Especially at the ending, because here's the thing: Singer and writer Simon Kinberg have done it.

They have fixed the X-Men movie franchise and in a classy way that makes it possible to make new movies with the 'First Class' cast (primarily James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender and Jennifer Lawrence) without fear of bumping into any of the old baggage that once lay in the way. It's a smart movie that celebrates the past, but definitively makes way for the future. It's a rare sequel/prequel that actually elevates everything that came before and makes it all seem, finally, like it all sort of makes a certain fuzzy kind of sense. I like problem movies, which is to say movies which seem to have set themselves a problem and solved it. It's partly why I liked Joss Whedon's 'Avengers' as much as I do. By all rights that movie should have been a huge mess: too many characters to juggle, too many egos on set, too much extended universe baggage to make it appeal to new audience members - yet it all clicked into place.

The same applies to 'Days of Future Past' in that this movie seems to have been conceived as a way to address continuity mistakes and to help rejuvenate and reboot the franchise. It's a placeholder movie, paving the way for new stories with a couple of hours of energetic rebuilding work, basically. Yet it also works on its own terms somehow, and is fast-paced, fun and contains terrific fight scenes not matched by any X-Men movie and, possibly, by any superhero movie to date. For the first time I'm excited to see a new X-Men movie. In fact, now I'm excited to see the recently announced Channing Tatum Gambit movie. It's not often movie number seven is the best in the franchise, but Fox's X-Men just got really good and it only took about 15 years to get there. Oh, and Quicksilver is awesome.


'Godzilla' - Dir. Gareth Edwards (12A)

Can't talk about this one without a mild SPOILER that won't be a surprise to anyone who's seen the more recent trailers, but some may want to avoid until they've seen the film.


The obvious way to reboot 'Godzilla' for a modern audience would be to re-tell that great original story from Ishiro Honda's 1954 classic, with all its post-war nuclear paranoia and pitch-perfect melodrama, as scientists work against hope to prevent the gigantic scaley metaphor from wiping out humanity one city at a time. He emerges from the sea, we get terrified, he fights the army, we somehow beat him back, the end. That first movie is popularly acknowledged to be the best of a series that, depending on who's counting, now extends to around 40 entries all sticking to a tried and tested formula which typically sees Godzilla fighting other giant kaiju whilst we humans look on helplessly. It's a "proper movie" that still holds up, in other words, whilst the sequels went the way of 'Rocky'. So it's fascinating to me that Gareth Edwards, director of DIY critical darling 'Monsters', has effectively bypassed this obvious route to respectability and gone straight into this prospective franchise in the spirit of those sequels. It's a weird choice but he more or less pulls it off with an entertaining monster smash-up even if it's not the more grounded and cerebral film many were expecting.

Godzilla is, charitably, a supporting player here, arriving around the hour mark and seldom seen until the big final showdown in which he rescues hopeless humanity from no less than two other gigantic terrors, after which he is declared the "king of monsters" by the TV news and celebrated in the streets. He's not the main hero and nor is he the epic antagonist, but instead serves as an elemental force of nature who sweeps in and, as Ken Watanabe's scientist has it, "restores balance" when things are at their bleakest. Until that happens we have to make do with a bunch of really good actors with varying degrees of little to do (Elizabeth Olsen, Juliette Binoche, Sally Hawkins, Brian Cranston, David Strathairn) and a lot of Aaron Taylor-Johnson as a military guy who, for one reason or another, follows the monsters around the world, acting as witness to a lot of city destruction and a number of futile US military attempts to thwart the beasts.

It lacks a little on the human side, but one thing Edwards' movie gets spectacularly right is the special effects on the monsters, which pull of that difficult trick (notoriously hard with CGI) of giving the creatures weight and scale. These are impressive things that easily dwarf aircraft carriers and skyscrapers. One of the most fun aspects of this movie is that Godzilla and his kaiju cousins are completely indifferent to us, only attacking when we get in their way, something best shown by scenes which show the American navy travelling alongside Godzilla as he makes his way inland. He could smash them up in moments were he bothered, but we're insects to him - which is probably the clearest way the film retains any of the original's fear of destructive forces outside of our control. Despite the cheering at the end, there is little indication that Godzilla has gone out of his way to save humanity, just that his vague objective matched up with our own this time around.

Far from perfect and not as complete or fully realised a vision as last year's more ambitious and imaginative 'Pacific Rim', Edwards' latest monster movie is a strange inverse of his last one: great at delivering epically sized beasts laying waste to civilization in suitably entertaining ways and a little bit shoddy when it comes to character work. Perhaps if a supporting player like Bryan Cranston were the star instead of the bland Taylor-Johnson then things would be very different, but as it stands this is a film that has just enough thrills to make you forgive its shortcomings.



'The Wind Rises' - Dir. Hayao Miyazaki (PG)

Supposedly representing the final film from legendary writer/director Hayao Miyazaki, co-founder of Japanese animation powerhouse Studio Ghibli, 'The Wind Rises' is a relatively low-key affair which serves partly as a biopic of aircraft engineer Jiro Horikoshi - designer of the famous 'Zero' fighter plane during the Second World War - and, oddly enough, also as a loose adaptation of a short story by Tatsuo Hori called The Wind Has Risen, which concerns a woman suffering from tuberculosis. It's a strange blend, especially as it means half the story (the part concerning Jiro's love for his sickly wife Naoko, which becomes increasingly pronounced in the final third) bares no obvious correlation with the life of the person the film is directly about, but it works in injecting what might have been a fairly dry tale about an aviation pioneer with the heart and romanticism associated with the filmmaker.

In almost every Miyazaki film to date his passion for machines, engines and, especially, aircraft has loomed large - most notably in 'Castle in the Sky' and 'Porco Rosso' but also visible in the joy of flight experienced on the catbus of 'My Neighbour Totoro' or the broom in 'Kiki's Delivery Service' - so in many ways, though it is less fantastical and magical (and it does still have those qualities stylistically), 'The Wind Rises' does have the air of a great passion project and represents an extremely personal sign-off. In the dream sequences, which are many, Miyazaki indulges his childish imagination, creating wondrous and impossible aircraft and contriving to have two of his heroes converse in what is ultimately aviation hobbyist fan fiction, as Jiro regularly checks in with the Italian airplane designer Giovanni Caproni, who forms his imaginary mentor. Miyazaki's obsessions enter the film in other ways too, with Jiro's drive and single-minded dedication to pursuing his chosen profession, perhaps at the expense of his personal life, another recurring theme.

At its core it's a film about choosing to pursue your creative dream even if it might be appropriated for nefarious purposes. Some have criticised the director for not going far enough to address the fact that Horikoshi ultimately designed efficient engines of war and destruction which were quickly put to devastating purpose in expanding the Empire of Imperial Japan - and it is fair to say he doesn't admonish Jiro for anything more severe than maybe not paying his (fictionalised) ailing wife enough attention. That said, given some of that negative reaction I was surprised how much the oncoming war underpins the entire film from its opening dream sequence (interrupted by bombs and destruction) to it's bittersweet final moments as Jiro finally perfects his plane only to be suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of what it will be use for next.

I'd argue Miyazaki effectively creates an air of menace and unease for most of the running time, with the foreshadowing of the coming destruction keenly felt during a haunting portrayal of the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923, as it levels Tokyo amidst an eerie sense of calm and quiet resignation of defeat in the face of a greater power - one of the greatest sequences he's ever conceived. The anti-war theme also comes to the fore in Jiro's dreams and the question of whether to "live in a world with or without pyramids", as Caproni puts it to him, is central. Then there's the kindly German traveller who (voiced to great effect by Werner Herzog in the English language dub) speaks gravely about the great evils being perpetuated by Japan's Nazi allies in Europe and who is suddenly forced to flee from the secret police. Ultimately this distaste for (though never outright rejection of) war is what sours Jiro's greatest achievement.

As you'd expect by now, the animation is peerless and beautiful, rendered all the more majestic by Joe Hisaishi's sweeping score. Miyazaki always nails small character moments and this film is no exception, from the effortless poetry of Naoko pulling her quilt over the sleeping Jiro as he rests at her side to his light and joyful depiction of something as simple as a paper airplane drifting on a breeze or a group of kids squeezing cartoonishly into the narrow confines of a giant biplane. Without much in the way of conflict to power the narrative, or anything like the fantasy of 'Howl's Moving Castle', 'Spirited Away' or 'Princess Mononoke', this is a film of small moments and wonderful details, no less joyful than those he's given us in the past. He threatened retirement in the past and then came back with some of his most celebrated work, so here's hoping this isn't the last of Hayao Miyazaki. But, if it is, this personal and intimate film is a great way to go.



'20 Feet from Stardom' - Dir. Morgan Neville (12A)

Controversially taking the Best Documentary Oscar earlier this year when it beat the fancied critical favourite 'The Act of Killing', '20 Feet from Stardom' may not be as exceptional a film in terms of form or content, but it's still a very entertaining doc, especially for those with a predilection for the girl groups of the 50s and 60s. The great Darlene Love is probably the best known of the film's subjects, as it explores the careers of remarkable singers (more often than not black women) who found themselves, for one reason or another, working as back-up rather than making the breakthrough as solo acts. There's all the expected VH1 Behind the Music style accounts of the highs and lows of fame and fortune, as some make it and others fall into obscurity and even out of music altogether, but it's pretty shallow when it comes to insight and is far from a definitive account of any era or artist. The main reason to watch is to see and hear these brilliant singers given a long overdue spotlight, and to learn anecdotes about their careers in music which saw them working behind everyone from Ray Charles to Stevie Wonder via Springsteen and Bowie.



'Blue Ruin' - Dir. Jeremy Saulnier (15)

With a low budget crowd-funded on Kickstarter and a very slight plot, 'Blue Ruin' is a taut thriller that mostly gets by on atmosphere, with the camera often uncomfortably close to Dwight (Macon Blair) who, when we first meet him, is a soft-spoken, reclusive vagrant - apparently sleep-walking through the past several years of his life in a traumatised stupor and living on a beach in a rusted, blue Pontiac. This changes when a local cop informs him that the man who killed his parents is due to be released from prison, prompting Dwight to start moving with a zombie-like single-mindedness on a quest for revenge. He starts up his old car, gets himself a gun, and heads out on a path of endless and empty ultra-violence with no clear winners.

Whilst clearly relishing the imaginatively executed scenes of violence, and clearly taking influence from the black humour and dark-hearted menace of early Coen Brothers movies, director Jeremy Saulnier also makes revenge seem appropriately childish. His baby-faced protagonist seems stuck in infanthood after losing his parents and seems perpetually afraid and incompetent, as opposed to cool and in control, a fact which serves as a nice counterpoint to the place revenge now seems to occupy in media in a post-Tarantino world. He gets his guns from a similarly childish old school friend, who displays a juvenile male's love of firearms and murder that is without conscience or understanding of consequence. That's not to say Saulnier isn't perhaps having his cake and eating it, with part of the thrill of 'Blue Ruin' definitely coming from the well-crafted scenes of death and violence, but it's an interesting and welcome aspect and one which elevates this interesting film above the crowd.



'Locke' - Dir. Steven Knight (15)


A masterclass in terms of showing what you can achieve with one (admittedly world class) actor and a tight, disciplined screenplay, 'Locke' is literally a film in which Tom Hardy drives down a British motorway for around an hour and a half, juggling problems at home and work on his phone. It begins with him getting into his family car in Birmingham and ends with him taking an exit ramp off the M40 and, though hugely important to Hardy's Ivan Locke and to the disembodied voices we hear on the other end of his carphone, the problems he faces are refreshingly down to earth. If given a small budget, one actor, and the brief to make a film entirely set in a moving car, it would be tempting to inject high-octane drama by making, say, something about a man with a bomb on his backseat who is having to deal with terrorists as he drives against the clock to rescue his wife and kids - but Locke gets a lot out of far less. It's consistently tense and thoroughly gripping even though it's about a man who's simply trying to get to resolve marital problems whilst also trying to co-ordinate what we're told is the "biggest concrete pour in Europe" (outside of military and nuclear). High stakes on both fronts, but on a relatable, human scale.

The only criticism I have of 'Locke' is that some of the voices on the other end of the phone sound theatrical and exaggerated rather than naturalistic, which is jarring when Hardy's adopted Welsh accent comes across as conversational and a little more nuanced, which has the effect of making it feel like the two sides of the conversation are coming from different films. Though that's a minor quibble at most because Hardy delivers a central performance that is captivating from beginning to end, even as/especially when he monologues about the minutiae urban planning and the construction industry in great detail. In fact his Alan Partridge-like fixation on pedantic, humdrum details lends the film a lot of humour even as you find yourself on the edge of your seat wondering if he can get the council to approve a vital 'stop and go' on a minor road at short notice.



'A Story of Children and Film' - Dir. Mark Cousins (PG)

In the vein of his celebrated television series 'The Story of Film: An Odyssey', critic-turned-filmmaker Mark Cousins turns his encyclopedic knowledge of cinema onto films from around the world depicting children, shining a spotlight on a number of little-seen gems and forgotten classics along the way. Using footage of his young niece and nephew playing in his front room as a sort of framing device, he identifies what he thinks are true expressions of childhood on camera and then uses films - ranging from the blockbuster 'E.T' to Iran's 'The White Balloon' and the Albanian 'Tomka and His Friends' - to illustrate how these traits and ideas have best been depicted on film.

It's as much a celebration of cinema and childhood as it is a work of criticism and film history, with the definite article in the title of his aforementioned series replaced with a more subjective 'A' this time around. Admittedly, some of the links Cousins draws between the films feel like a stretch (I'm still not sure what his segways to the art of Van Gogh have to do with anything) but it's primarily made up of clips from some truly beautiful films, presented here with an enthusiasm to match the intellect.



'Tracks' - Dir. John Curran (12A)

The based-on-a-true-story tale of one young woman's nine month trek across the best part of 2,000 miles of inhospitable Australian desert, from the Northern Territory town of Alice Springs to the Indian Ocean on the west coast, John Curran's 'Tracks' struggles to convey a sense of either time or distance. Like many walking films before it, such as Peter Weir's 'The Way Back' or even John Hillcoat's adaptation of 'The Road', the great swathes of land covered by the protagonist are lost in the edit in the name of brevity, with the film instead taking us from incident to incident - which seems antithetical to the nature of the story being told. The ever-watchable Mia Wasikowska plays Robyn Davidson as a loner who prefers the company of animals to people, yet the film - even with frequent flashbacks to a traumatic childhood - never really gets to the heart of why that is, or why it is she decides upon this arbitrary and extremely dangerous goal.

We don't really even get to see her deal with isolation for any great stretch of time, as the film bumps Robyn into numerous people seemingly every other scene - from Adam Driver's well-meaning photojournalist to empathetic aboriginal elders and bemused white settlers. It's ultimately a movie hamstrung by an apparent belief that the only way to advance the story or develop its central character is through dialogue and contrived drama. I can't help but imagine Robyn Davidson's months in the outback must have, in truth, consisted of very little of either. Her biggest struggle, perhaps after ensuring a reliable supply of drinkable water, must have been against boredom and madness. This should have been a tale of remoteness, quiet self-reflection and perseverance, but what we have instead is a fairly conventional romance story about a woman who just needs to learn to let people in, principally by learning to love Driver's manic pixie dream-boy.