'Knight and Day' review: Light-hearted summer fun...

'Knight and Day', starring Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz and directed by James Mangold ('Walk the Line'), is the latest movie in what has almost become a sub-genre of action romantic-comedies. Films like this year's Jennifer Aniston vehicle 'The Bounty Hunter' and 'Date Night' starring Steve Carell and Tina Fey, have found varying degrees of success by blending gentle humour with low-key action. But it is probably Doug Liman's 2005 film 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith' that 'Knight and Day' resembles most closely: the leads of both having genuine star power and sex appeal, whilst the action is rather more violent, high-octane and central to proceedings.

There is something old fashioned about 'Knight and Day'. Mangold avoids the fast-cutting, music video style of direction which now the norm in action films. Instead we are allowed to see clearly what is going on at all times, making the actions scenes (especially the car chases) more exciting then they otherwise would be. The sound design is equally good with the dialogue always clearly audible. When Tom Cruise's rogue spy, Roy Miller, talks to the terrified fish-out-of-water June Havens (Cameron Diaz) whilst hanging onto the bonnet of her car, he is improbably easy to hear through the car windshield and over the gunfire and the traffic. This is stark opposition to the hyper-realist sound mixes used in films like 'Miami Vice' - and I for one welcome it.



It is also old fashioned in its use of stunt work and location shooting, with Tom Cruise clearly doing a lot of the motorcycle and sports car driving himself, over the streets of Austria, Spain and the US. There is undoubtedly a lot of CGI going on (clearly in the case of the plane crash and probably in the case of the Pamplona bull running sequence), but that doesn't detract from the immerse nature of many of the action set-pieces. Many of them are only a few notches more realistic than those in the recent 'A-Team' movie and they are a lot of fun. Mangold is also pretty brave in that he allows many bits of action business to occur off-camera (for instance when Diaz is unconscious). It is almost as if the director is admitting that it is immaterial how our heroes escape certain situations: we know that they will emerge victorious and it is as if we are simply being told to enjoy the ride.

There is also a good deal of chemistry between the two stars, re-united here after playing opposite one another in Cameron Crowe's 'Vanilla Sky' back in 2001. Cruise is good value, knowingly playing up to his current off-screen persona as slightly mentally imbalanced in a film that, for at least some of its running time, requires you to question whether he is a who he says he is, or, in fact, a dangerous fantasist. Diaz is fidgety, hyper-active and irritating, as ever, but she is not without a certain charm and seems to shine especially bright opposite Cruise. It is to the duo's credit that the film manages to survive some very cringe-worthy and cliché dialogue (notably when talking about their aspirations) down to the goodwill the pair engender.



There are also some decent supporting actors here, such as Peter Sarsgaard (last seen seducing Carey Mulligan in 'An Education'), who plays the agent assigned to apprehend the duo by any means necessary, and Paul Dano ('There Will be Blood', 'Little Miss Sunshine'), whose nervous, young scientist is probably the comic highlight (though that is mainly due to his ridiculous facial hair).

However, it isn't a perfect film by any stretch. John Powell's score is terrible, seemingly shouting "hey! It's a comedy!" during the fight scenes and announcing "hey! We're in Spain!" during the Pamplona action. A good score supports the on-screen action, whereas this one often works directly against it. There is also a nasty, generic Spanish-speaking villain, as has become recent Hollywood custom (notably in this summer's 'A-Team' and 'The Expendables'). It is also not a very humanistic movie, with Cruise murdering FBI agents everywhere he goes (which is apparently OK).

Much of the comedy falls flat, but in the end it is pretty good-natured, light-hearted action-adventure that wins the day. 'Knight and Day' is similar to 'A-Team', in that it is a loony action movie which doesn't take itself at all seriously. But 'Knight and Day' is much better made than that, has better visual effects and the action is directed far more coherently. It also has less plot exposition than any film this summer, which is also quite refreshing. It is no masterpiece and it isn't advancing the art of film making in any way - quite the reverse, 'Knight and Day' seems to look backwards to (dare I say it) a simpler time. But that is perhaps its single greatest feature. Perhaps because of this, it is also the best of the recent action rom-coms by some distance.

'Knight and Day' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is out now across the UK.

'Gainsbourg' review: Fun, imaginative, but insubstantial...

Most comic book adaptations are pretty far removed from their source material. There are a few notable exceptions to this. Frank Miller was credited as a co-director, along with Robert Rodriquez, for the almost shot-for-shot 2005 adaptation of his comic book 'Sin City'. Similarly, Daniel Clowes worked closely with director Terry Zwigoff in 2001, co-writing the adaptation of his own 'Ghost World'. But otherwise comic book movies (as diverse as 'X-Men', 'The Road to Perdition' and 'V for Vendetta') are a separate animal, sometimes even disowned by the comics original creator (see any Alan Moore adaptation). Usually, the rights to make the comic are purchased by a studio and somebody unconnected to the material is hired to make a movie. Sometimes, as with most superhero movies, only the characters - and possibly their origins - are retained, the plot lines often differing wildly from anything in the comics' own continuity.



But in France, the home of auteur theory, a couple of quirky, creator-led adaptations have come to cinemas in recent years. In 2007 Marjane Satrapi co-wrote and directed the quite brilliant animated version of her graphic novel 'Persepolis'. And now Joann Sfar has written and directed a biopic of the legendary French singer-songwriter, Serge Gainsbourg, based on his own comic book. And, just like Satrapi's film, 'Gainsbourg' is highly stylised, playful and experimental whilst never straying too far away from reality. So when Guillermo del Toro regular Doug Jones turns up in a bizarre costume representing both Gainsbourg's self-image and on-stage persona, it doesn't seem out of place. Nor does it seem in opposition to the performances from many of the quirky and eccentric supporting players such as Yolande Moreau (who has a small role as the singer and actress Fréhel).

For fans of post-war French popular music, I am sure 'Gainsbourg' is a must-see film, featuring lots of musical performances and with actors playing various singers the 50s up to the 80s including France Gall, Boris Vian, Juliette Gréco, Les Frères Jacques and, of course, Jane Birkin and Brigitte Bardot. However, as I personally know very little about Serge Gainsbourg or the wider French music scene, 'Gainsbourg' proved a fairly frustrating film. It is episodic, taking us from Serge's childhood up to near the end of his life, hardly stopping for breath along the way. Everything is painted in broad brushstrokes, scenes are brief sketches and icons are played as icons rather than real people. It is a film about myths which simply serves to repeat them. There is certainly fun to be had here, but there is no insight to be gained. Those in the know might appreciate the lightness of touch on show here, but I for one needed more of a context for each (seemingly unconnected) event.



"How popular is he at this point?" and "How did he go from writing songs for cabaret acts to sleeping with Brigitte Bardot?" were among the questions I was asking which went unanswered. When a record producer tells Gainsbourg and Birkin (played ably by the British Lucy Gordon who tragically committed suicide soon after the production finished shooting) that their new single "Je t'aime... moi non plus" will spark mass controversy, we are never shown the results. Refreshing brevity for those in the know, perhaps, but I needed a bit more information. It is a film made for fans - and that's fine - but don't expect to find out anything you couldn't glean from the man's wikipedia entry.

The film does make a connection between the central figure's adoption of his stage persona and his growing up Jewish in Nazi occupied France, suggesting that a degree of self-loathing manifested itself as bombast sophistication and self-conscious elegance. This is conveyed via Doug Jones' absurdist caricature costume representations of Gainsbourg, which interact with the real, more introverted version of the man (played an uncanny doppelganger in Eric Elmosnino) as well as with the other characters in each scene, crossing a line between fantasy and reality. The childhood scenes, in which young then Lucien Ginsburg (Kacey Mottet Klein) is followed around by a huge, Nazi propaganda-inspired caricature Jewish head, are a real highlight.



But in the end it is very much the breezy and whimsical comic book movie version of this icon's life. Not without some arresting visuals, imaginative touches and stirring renditions of classic pieces of kitsch pop (the enthusiastic, up tempo recital of 'Baby Pop' is a highlight). Sfar's film is willfully enigmatic, like the man himself - and I am sure that was the intention - but ultimately it made me hungry for a more in-depth look at Serge Gainsbourg's life and career. Maybe this renewed interest is the film's real achievement.

'Gainsbourg' is still playing in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC. It is doing fairly well in the UK too, and is still hanging on in the top ten.

Expendables-gate...

About fourteen hours ago my scathing one-star review of Sylvester Stallone's 'The Expendables' was posted at Obsessed with Film. Within hours I was labelled "a joke", a "professional cancer" and "a nobody writer who will stay a nobody writer". My personal favourite? I was also called the "all-time reigning jackass writer" - a quote I will cherish forever, once the crying stops.

The reason for this? Well, in the review I made the regrettable and admittedly foolish statement that not only was the film pretty dumb, but that it would only appeal to extremely dumb people ("hardened dunces" and the illiterate, to name two offended groups). Intended as a frivolous and jokey closing remark, the comment actually ended up inspiring a wave of hate directed at this reviewer and the site at large. Some of it just and reasonable ("isn’t insulting ‘some’ of your reader base considered bad practice?"). I unreservedly apologise to anyone who was genuinely offended by that remark. Believe it or not, that was not my intention and I didn't expect people to take it a) personally ("I for one plan on seeing this film, not because I’m a illiterate meat head like you imply") or b) literally ("Stallone has written Oscar winning films and you’re implying viewers can’t read if they enjoy the film?"). I stand by all of the comments I made about the film itself and feel my review is valid, but insulting an imagined audience (something I thought would be taken in jest) was unfair and perhaps even uncalled for.

Let me get one thing straight: I obviously do not genuinely believe that only the illiterate would wish to see this film. (As every bigot says) some of my best friends have been looking forward to this movie for a long time. I don't believe they are in any way dumb for doing so. I do understand that a lot of the people who want to see this film are simply being nostalgic. Indeed, I felt that I had acknowledged the film's appeal to people other than myself when I wrote that:

I must confess that I am not a particularly big fan of the 80’s action movie and I am fairly sure that everything I hated about this movie is the reason why so many others will love it. There are moments of bone-crunching violence, well choreographed scenes of martial arts, huge explosions and loads of silly one-liners.

What I was really attacking in my review (I hoped, with humour) was the fact that this movie's raw, ideal audience member is a gung-ho moron. Let me explain. Imagine you have never seen 'Commando' or 'Predator' or 'Rocky IV' for a second: would you be leaping to the defence of this movie so passionately? I suspect not. I recognise that a lot of people simply want to see Rocky Balboa alongside Ivan Drago again and long to watch the "Governator" back on the big screen, and this is fair enough. On that score, I am with you. I may not be a huge fan of the 80's action movie, but I am a fan of movies in general and can appreciate a little intertextuality as much as the next man. But if you allow yourself to get sucked into this stunt casting gimmick of a movie, then you encouraging the making of bad movies by giving your money to something of zero substance.

I don't mean "substance" in a poncy, intellectual way either. 'Die Hard' has substance - it was an original and remains a peak example of its genre. 'The Expendables' regurgitates worn out ideas, using worn out icons and serves most as a celebration of human ugliness and Regan-era politics. In-jokes aside, it has nothing to offer.

Another reason for my comment, as pointed out in my editor's generous defence of my review, is that I was trying to redress the balance after female viewers of 'Sex & the City 2' were dismissed as dumb following that film's huge success earlier in the year. To my mind 'The Expendables' is the male equivalent of this and we shouldn't let ourselves off just because we fetishise violence rather than shoes. Arguably the shoe thing is healthier anyway.

I have also been accused of being "biased" and of not being "balanced". I strongly refute this. I go into any movie with an open mind, even if I have a judgement based on the trailer or the poster or the history of the director, I try to watch the movie as if those thoughts didn't exist and judge it on its own merits. This is what I feel I have done in this case. I wouldn't have slagged the film off if it had made me laugh or excited me. I don't have an agenda. And in relation to the question of "balance", this review is only supposed to reflect my opinion. I will not write something which says "on one hand this and on the other hand that" because that would be boring to read. Whatever you thought of my review, I don't get the impression it was a boring read.

A final point: anyone who read my reviews of films like 'South of the Border', 'Capitalism: A Love Story' and even 'Kick-Ass' will know I am an outspoken leftist and often bring that into my analysis of film, whether looking at politics of gender or race or economics. Therefore, a film as vehemently right-wing as 'The Expendables' is always going to grate on me, with it's blatant anti-Chavez message ("everything that comes out of the ground belongs to me" says an evil South American dictator). Perhaps that helps explain why I reacted so negatively towards it, perhaps not.

Anyway, even if you still hate that review or feel you dislike me as a reviewer, I hope you understand my position better now and accept my sincere apology if I upset you with the heavy-handed way I chose to express my opinion in this instance.

Thanks for reading.

'South of the Border' review: Chavez seems like a nice bloke...

Following on from his 2003 documentaries on Fidel Castro ('Comandante') and Yasser Arafat ('Persona Non Grata'), Oliver Stone journeyed into South America, meeting leaders from six countries, for his latest film 'South of the Border'. Focusing primarily on Venezuela's Hugo Chavez, the documentary looks at the negative and biased portrayal of these leaders in the American media. In this film, through interviews and use of archive news footage, Stone seeks to counteract a number of the claims made by media outlets, presenting these leaders in a more positive light.

Perhaps this might not seem like a admirable cause to many, with Stone seemingly replacing one one-sided viewpoint with another, but when you are told (via Stone's narration) that much of the media within Venezuela is partisan and anti-Chavez - controlled by oil companies and special interests - then this documentary seems not only justified, but necessary.



Disappointingly, the "interviews" themselves (with Chavez as well as six other leaders including Raul Castro) are really little more than friendly chats between Stone and the subject. During these meetings he invites Bolivian leader Evo Morales to play soccer with him and asks the Argentine President Cristina Kirchner how many pairs of shoes she owns, whilst he encourages Chavez to ride around on a small bicycle. These moments are intended to humanise people so often demonised, but they just made me feel as though Stone were wasting these people's time. I don't mean to say I wanted to see Stone take an adversarial tone at odds with the point of his film, but just that I would have preferred to hear more of the political arguments (but maybe that's just me). I also worry that this approach limits the appeal of the film, perhaps making it preach to the converted. Somebody less sympathetic to the subjects than I might feel that this approach robs the film of credibility. Which is ashame, because there is good stuff here.

The strongest aspect of the film comes in the narration written by Tariq Ali and Mark Weisbrot, which is generally supported by really interesting news material, ranging from familiar bad source Fox News to The New York Times. These clips are faintly disturbing, demonstrating the factually inaccurate reporting and (in one clear case) manipulation of video editing prevalent in media reporting of Chavez in particular. There is also a lot of unsettling evidence that points to (surprise, surprise) CIA involvement in a number of fairly recent attempted coup d'état (as recently as 2002), as well as a lot of evidence which points to the role of the IMF as a body for controlling foreign economies in the interests of American capitalism.



The thing is that when Stone isn't asking his subjects to behave like buffoons, in the name of being media friendly, they actually all come across really well. All are eloquent and reasonable and all seem genuine and engaged with their people - particularly the poor. Chavez drives himself around and talks happily to citizens who approach his modest jeep. The scenes in which we see the leaders interact with each other are probably the best and it is these which represent the biggest coup for Stone. The Cuban veteran, Raul Castro, rebukes Stone for suggesting he is perhaps a loftier figure than the likes of Ecuador's relatively young Rafael Correa, saying that they are all equals and that all has their own ideas to bring to the table.

'South of the Border' is not a flawless piece of documentary film making. It is, however, a necessary opposing viewpoint to the one which we are usually offered - in regard to Chavez in particular. Probably my favourite aspect of the film is that, like the equally polemical work of Michael Moore, it contains a lot of information which could be depressing and yet manages to end on a note of optimism. In this case it is the hope that these South American leaders can bring the South American Continent together in a way which could see it forever independent from American political interference.

Furthermore, Tariq Ali goes as far as to suggest that this new left-leaning South American influence might eventually find its way into North America. To me that sounds like a fantasy. But it is one I was happy enough to indulge in. Perhaps the most heartening message was that given by Brazil's centre-left Lula da Silva who said that he has no interest in fighting with the United States but simply wishes to see his country treated as an equal. If nothing else, Stone's documentary is a good equaliser, launching a fierce counter-attack on the right-wing media. In my view, a laudable goal achieved with modest success.

'South of the Border' is out on limited release in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC. Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse is showing it on the weekend of the 7th and 8th of August.

'Mother' review: The best thriller film since Jackson's...

Later this month comes the UK release of 'Mother', a South Korean thriller directed by Joon-ho Bong, who made his name with the excellent 'The Host' and 'Memories of Murder'. The story of an unnamed women (Kim Hye-ja) whose only son, the mentally handicapped Do-joon (Won Bin), is accused of murder. The protective mother then takes it upon herself to prove her son's innocence by mounting her own criminal investigation. The film is suspenseful and tense, but also darkly funny throughout.

Joon-ho is supremely skilled at mixing genuine tension with humour in this way. Maybe Sam Raimi and the Coen Brothers strike the same delicate balance when working at the peak of their powers, with these filmmakers able to inject absurdist black comedy into horrific events without detracting from their impact. Like those American directors, Joon-ho is able to make his scenes of graphic violence extremely visceral without verging anywhere near the "torture porn" end of the spectrum. As Jon said on the last Splendor Podcast, there is also something of an obsession with bodily fluids in his work, with urine, saliva, blood, vomit and sweat, which contribute to this feeling of tangibility.



But for all the grimy detail, 'Mother' is certainly not an ugly film. In fact it is quite the opposite, with Hong Kyeong-pyo ('Brotherhood') lighting the film beautifully. It is also not a realist film, being highly stylised whilst retaining credibility at all times, even when a lawyer begins a bizarre karaoke as a way of talking to his client or when a couple of youngsters start a fight with a bunch of old businessmen on a golf course.

Kim Hye-ja is really outstanding as the titular mother, playing her with a touching fragility, but also bringing across her obsession and resilience superbly. The film is at its very best when exploring the disturbing, almost incestuous relationship between the mother and Do-joon, played by the model-turned-actor, Won Bin. He is pretty effective too, carefully avoiding pastiche in his portrayal of mental disability. Jin Goo is also really good as Jin-tae, a local ne'er-do-well and friend of Do-joon. He seems born to play a charismatic troublemaker.



It is difficult to say too much more about 'Mother' - at least in terms of plot developments - without spoiling the film. I will say only that its conclusion is surprising and highly satisfying. I recently compiled a list of the best films of 2010 so far. I hadn't seen 'Mother' at that point, but if I had have it would certainly place high up on that list. How high? I am not sure. I think that question warrants some perspective. But expect to hear about it again in my end-of-year review.

'Mother' is, without qualification, the best thriller film I have seen in several years. If 'The Host' and 'Memories of Murder' suggested Joon-ho Bong was one to watch, then 'Mother' confirms his status as a major talent.

'Mother' has been rated '15' by the BBFC and is released across the UK on the 20th of August. Come and see it at Brighton's Duke of York's! Jon and I talked about in the latest Splendor Podcast.

'A-Team' review: Big, loud, oh-so-silly fun...

I'll say right off: I've never seen an episode of the 'A-Team', the cult 1980's action series, so it not for me to say whether Joe Carnahan's new franchise re-boot movie is faithful to the spirit of the TV show. What I can say is that this new film, starring Liam Neeson, Bradley Cooper, Sharlto Copley and Quinton Jackson as the titular group of vigilantes, was surprisingly enjoyable. In fact, whether I was laughing at the film or with it, I spent most of its running time with a silly grin on my face.

This is not to say that 'The A-Team' is an especially good movie. To start with, the politics of the thing are slightly dubious to say the very least, from the cartoon Mexicans at the beginning to the sleezy sexism of Cooper's character 'Face'. And the "moral" lesson learnt by B.A Baracus (Jackson) - that, as Walter Sobchak would say, "pacifism is nothing to hide behind" - is faintly disturbing. It is also true that Carnahan's direction is incoherent during the action scenes, with fast editing and a dizzying number of close-ups, and he treats the audience with very little respect offering a flashback every few minutes to help re-explain plot points and even who characters are. Oh, and the CGI is pretty ropey throughout (but especially at the end).



But despite these many flaws, 'The A-Team' is actually fairly good fun. The main reason for this is the central performers. Liam Neeson is great, chewing the scenery as Hannibal and lending the role gravitas, and 'District 9' star Sharlto Copley is excellent as Murdock, the ace pilot busted out of an insane asylum. Cooper is reliably charismatic. Quinton Jackson, a former UFC fighting champion, is the least absorbing of the four main actors, but at least he doesn't stray into an impression of Mr. T. Elsewhere in the cast, Patrick Wilson is entertaining as a duplicitous CIA operative and Brian Bloom does a decent job as a nasty mercenary solider. Jessica Biel is a forgettable, spare part as Cooper's love interest - but she is almost blameless: let's face it, 'The A-Team' isn't going to be packed with great female characters.

Another reason the film is watchable is that everything that happens is so darned over the top ("overkill is underrated"). When Hannibal explains one very, very silly plan to the team, one of his men responds "this is bat shit crazy!", to which the old man replies "it gets better!" These men relish the impossible. It is like that scene in 'The Fantastic Mr. Fox' where Mr. Fox suggests a daring and convoluted route through a farm, oblivious that there is a completely clear path nearby which goes safely around all the obstacles. The difficulty (or impossibility) is the fun part and soon you are watching a tank fall out of an exploding aeroplane and hearing someone in a control room is exclaim "they're trying to fly the tank!" Ridiculous, but quite brilliant all the same, and certainly never less than entertaining.



In terms of raw "dumbness" there is really little to separate this movie - and everything that happens in it - from one directed by Michael Bay. However, there is less genuine bravado on show here. Whether it is intentional or just a happy accident, 'The A-Team' feels more like a parody of bravado. Everyone is clearly insane, nothing that takes place makes sense and everything explodes - especially when it logically shouldn't. It is a colourful and exaggerated cartoon version of reality. Nothing that takes place is milked for cool. In fact, cool is more or less absent here. And as someone who detests cool, I mean that in a really good way.

'The A-Team' isn't going to win any awards. It isn't going to get a five star review from The Guardian or be christened Film of the Month by Sight and Sound. And nor should it. There is much to dislike and criticise about it. But in a world where I have to sit through the "worthy" likes of 'Leaving' on a weekly basis, I am pleased and refreshed to be able to see something so self-consciously stupid. I'll watch a fun cheesy film over a dull film any day of the week.

Is 'The A-Team' a work of art? Probably not. But I'm not going to sit here stroking my chin denying that I smiled from beginning to end. If you've seen 'Inception' and 'Toy Story 3' (both far superior films) already and want to sample some light, blockbustery fun: then maybe you can call... 'The A-Team'. Cue music.

'The A-Team' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is playing across the UK. You can hear Jon and I arguing about 'The A-Team' in our latest podcast.

'Toy Story 3' review: Pixar falling short of greatness...

Pixar have created a big problem for themselves. Their last two features, 'Wall-E' and 'Up', have been universally heralded as masterpieces and sit comfortably alongside the greatest animated films ever made. Of course, the studio was already well ahead of its American competitors before that - at least artistically. Films such as 'Ratatouille', 'The Incredibles', 'Finding Nemo' and the original 'Toy Story' are easily up there with the work of international masters, such as Miyazaki ('Spirited Away'), Ocelot ('Kirikou and the Sorceress') or Chomet ('Belleville Rende-vouz').

After a filmography that only really boasts one dud (the 2006 film 'Cars'), the California based animation studio have set the bar remarkably, even dauntingly, high and, with 'Cars 2' on the way and now operating under full Disney ownership, the honeymoon period could be set to end for the team that pioneered the now-dominant CGI animation art form. It is with this concern in mind that I went to see the latest entrant into the Pixar canon: 'Toy Story 3'. But does it live up to, or even surpass, the lightness of touch, the wit and the sophistication of last year's 'Up'?

In a word: no.



This is not to say that 'Toy Story 3' is not charming and funny. It is. There are plenty of endearing new characters (notably "Mr. Pricklepants" voiced by Timothy Dalton) and it is fun seeing Woody, Buzz and the gang again. But whereas the question at Pixar has always seemed to be "where can we go next?" - with them constantly pushing at boundaries (both technical and narrative) - this sequel feels as though it has been inspired by accountants and people eager to sell a few more Buzz Lightyear figures this Christmas.

Well, maybe that's a little harsh. There are some good new ideas in the film, which sees the toys being donated to a nursery. The animation of the toddlers is amazing, with the animators doing a terrific job of capturing their movements. In this respect, the film is as detailed and lovingly put together as anything they have produced. Michael Keaton is fun as Ken - the male counterpart to Barbie - as is Ned Beatty as "Lots-O'-Huggin' Bear". The gags are perhaps broader than usual, with lots of in-jokes (a Totoro toy is prominently featured), film references ('Cool Hand Luke' is explicitly quoted) and sight gags, but 'Toy Story 3' on the whole stays true to the Pixar tradition of dealing with genuinely adult themes, such as loss, death and even mid-life crisis. And it must be said that the opening sequence, which takes us into a childs imagination as he plays with the toys, is brilliant.



But whilst Jessie the cowgirl's story in 'Toy Story 2' was genuinely quite moving, helped in no small way by a splendid Randy Newman song ("When She Loved Me"), the tearjerker moments in this sequel feel forced and contrived. 'Up' reduced all except the most hard-hearted to floods of tears in its opening moments and justly received plaudits for doing so in such an elegant way, and it feels almost as though this feat has gone to Pixar's (collective) head. One wonders what great sorrow will befall Lightning McQueen next year. Maybe his tyres will deflate to the strains of a string quartet or his lady-car will take a tumble off a cliff and explode. Whatever they do it won't work: because I don't care about a talking car and, it turns out, care only a fraction more for Mr and Mrs Potato Head et al. The prolonged curtain call that ends the film feels similarly manipulative and calculated as the action which proceeds it.

Far be it from me to go on a Kermodeian rant about 3D, but I have to say that the novelty (and it is a novelty) is really starting to wear off now. I have enjoyed a few 3D titles over the last year and have been impressed by the way that the most recent films have used the technology to create depth rather then to make stuff pop out of the screen. But I am no longer impressed because I have now been there and seen it already. I saw 'Avatar' and now I'm over it. Now all I am noticing is the increased admission price (over £20 for my girlfriend and I) and the splitting headache upon leaving the cinema. The 3D is tastefully implemented in 'Toy Story 3', but you gain precisely nothing from seeing it this way.



If I sound unenthusiastic about 'Toy Story 3' it is only because of Pixar's own exceptionally high standards. Without doubt it is fun film and - along with 'Inception' - it is the must-see blockbuster movie of this summer. But am I wrong to expect a little bit more from Pixar? However much of a good time 'Toy Story 3' is, it doesn't hold a candle to any of their previous three films. Personally, I enjoyed Disney's return to hand-drawn animation, 'The Princess and the Frog', quite a bit more. And with sequels to 'Cars' and 'Monsters Inc.' in the pipeline, could Pixar's golden age be behind them? Or do they have another 'Up' in them? I hope for the latter, but on this evidence there is some cause for concern.

'Toy Story 3' is rated 'U' by BBFC and can be seen almost everywhere in 3D and 2D versions.

'Leaving' review: I Am Bored...

In recent times Kristen Scott Thomas has moved easily between big budget Hollywood movies such as 'The Golden Compass' and interesting little British films like 'Nowhere Boy'. There is nothing especially odd or exceptional about this. But what is rather more remarkable is that she has spent just as much time carving out a career in French language fare like 'Tell No One' and 'I've Loved You So Long'. We are used to seeing European actors move into English language film, but the reverse is rare. I can recall seeing Jodie Foster make a brief cameo appearance in Jeunet's 'A Very Long Engagement' a few years ago, but I am hard pressed to think of any other notable examples.

The latest in this vein of interesting Gallic offerings starring Scott Thomas comes in the form of Catherine Corsini's 'Leaving', the tale of a bored bourgeois housewife (Suzanne) who begins a love affair which both enables her to experience passion and live life again, as well as causing drama and friction within her family. It is in many ways very similar to the Italian-language film 'I Am Love' - which coincidentally also stars an English actress in Tilda Swinton. In 'Leaving' the object of Suzanne's sexual desire comes in the form of a builder who her wealthy husband has employed - distractingly played by the evil Captain Vidal from 'Pan's Labyrinth', the Spannish actor Sergi López.



This tale of sexual reawakening, forbidden love and of the impact of divorce upon a family, can be interesting. When handled properly it can be intense and deeply moving. However 'Leaving' is the single most dull movie I have sat through this year. All the characters (including the children) are unlikeable, the human emotions and events that are depicted are completely silly and handled with an unappealing level of earnestness. There is not really a moment of humour or levity. Instead we are treated to boring and faintly irritating movie which lurches from one uncomfortable sex scene to the next with only the blatant product placement for Peugeot holding any interest.

Suzanne travels between France and Spain frequently in her ultra-reliable French-made car, with a car ad aesthetic taking over whenever she glides across the picturesque countryside. I was not much of a fan of the aforementioned 'I Am Love', however after viewing 'Leaving' I can appreciate that movie's score, it's cinematography and it's set design - all of which are self-consciously "arty" yet provide a level of interest and entertainment missing here in this bland and conventional drama.



On a dramatic level the film has very little to offer. Kristen Scott Thomas' Suzanne could be seen to behave in a way which is interestingly morally grey and her husband's initial reaction to her infidelity is intriguing and sympathetic as it is one of extreme and inconsolable grief. However, seemingly unsure of how to navigate these characters through a story of emotional complexity and moral ambiguity, the film almost immediately finds safer, more surefooted ground. The husband (played by the Israeli-born actor, Yvan Attal) is soon turned into a two-dimensional villain and audience sympathies are reassuringly left to lie with the protagonist. With this lazy writing any hope that 'Leaving' might shed some light on the human condition quickly vanishes and we can set ourselves to autopilot until the film's contrived and completely overblown conclusion.

In the end Kristen Scott Thomas' grasp of French is impressive and I applaud her versatility, however 'Leaving' has little to recommend it. If you want to see an up-market version of this story, watch 'I Am Love'. If you want to see a really good film about temptation and desire for a married woman gone numb, then watch 'Brief Encounter'. This film has no real reason to exist.

'Leaving' is rated '15' by the BBFC and can still be seen in selected cinemas across the UK.

'Predators' review: A decent start ruined by a silly alien...

What do 'Jaws' and the original 'Alien' have in common? They are both films which expertly create tension and fear in an an audience by deliberately refusing to show the titular creature. Aside from the occasional glimpse, the creature is unseen and becomes enigmatic, intriguing, more exciting. Of course, with both these examples there was a practical consideration in that the directors knew that with limited technology, showing the creature would look phenomenally silly. So when your "monster" is basically very, very silly anyway, with long fingernails and dreadlocks, it should be a no-brainer: don't show us the monster.

It is a lesson that should have been learned by the makers of the original 1987 actioner 'Predator', as well as its much-maligned 1990 sequel 'Predator 2' (AKA 'Predator: Pig in the City'). Both of which show rather too much of the Rastafarian alien then is really wise. As soon as a man in a rubber suit starts running towards the camera I am no longer scared. Worse than that: I am no longer taking the movie seriously. OK, so both those movies jump the shark way before the Predator turns up. 'Predator' has a adrenaline fuelled, explosive gun battle in which muscle bound tough-guys make evil Latino people explode by the score, all to the tune of familiar 1980s Schwarzenegger zingers ("stick around!"). The sequel sees a gun crazed Danny Glover enter a strange, dystopian LA that feels like something out of a long lost Paul Verhoeven movie. The streets are full of various over the top, ethnic scumbags who need culling.



Both films strain credibility long before the man in the rubber suit makes an appearance. However, the tragedy of the latest installment in the franchise, the Robert Rodriquez produced 'Predators', is that for the first half hour it is actually fairly well made and quite engrossing stuff. It returns the series to the jungle setting of the original (albeit this time on another planet) and sees a group of macho-types from around the world dropped into the middle of a game preserve, apparently to serve as quarry for the blood-sport obsessed aliens.

Director Nimród Antal creates a good atmosphere and is helped by a cast of decent and appealing actors in the various roles, including Adrien Brody, Alice Braga, Topher Grace and Danny Trejo. Antal quickly establishes all the characters personalities and backgrounds and starts the movie at a breakneck pace with Brody falling out of the sky into the jungle before the title pops up. The film is at its strongest as the unlikely band of misfits band together and try to work out what is going on. As an audience we know they are soon going to be picked apart by bloodthirsty aliens, which creates a decent tension as we ponder "when is it going to happen and who will be the first to die?"



It is far from perfect even at this stage, with the dialogue mostly consisting of people shouting "what the fuck is going on?", "where the fuck are we?" and "what the fuck is that thing?" The characters aren't especially deep, instead they are broad archetypes. But this is forgivable and the actors bring a lot to their roles, especially Brody who some may think is an odd choice here as a beefcake-commando, but he lends plausibility, intelligence and depth to a role which could just so easily have fallen to Vin Diesel.

The thing is after the initial honeymoon period the Predators themselves turn up. And from then on things get progressively sillier and sillier to the point that by the end most the initial goodwill has dissipated. Seen in daylight and in long sustained full-body shots, the Predators are perhaps the most ridiculous antagonists imaginable. The film reaches its nadir during one sequence which sees two men in Predator suits punching each other for about five minutes, which is easily as appealing as seeing two CGI robots punching each other in a certain Michael Bay movie.



There is also a fundamental problem with the concept suggested in the title: that this time there is more than one Predator. Upping the number of Predators diminishes their threat rather than increasing it. Predators used to eat units of commandos for breakfast, but now they are hunting in packs and struggling to kill Topher Grace? But maybe these are rubbish Predators anyway, on some sort of game-tourism weekend. Whereas previous Predators used to take the trouble to land on Earth and seek out bad-asses (and Bill Paxton) to skin alive, this lot are content to land on a local hunting ground and use their heat-sensor equipment (which seems like cheating to me) to hunt disorientated primitives.

In the end 'Predators' is quite disappointing. Not because I had especially high hopes going in, but because the opening minutes suggested it could have been better. But then the men in their rubber suits started running towards the camera and I was no longer tense. Worse than that: I was no longer taking the movie seriously. Maybe that is my problem. Maybe I am not supposed to be taking this movie seriously. But if you're in the market for silly, stick on the 1987 original and have done with it. 'Predators' is neither good enough, nor silly enough to warrant too much attention.

'Predators' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is on general release in the UK.

'Heartbreaker' review: More fun than you'd think...

'Heartbreaker' doesn't seen to offer a lot at a first glance. Watching the trailer you see what looks like a by-the-numbers romantic comedy, with broad jokes and a sumptuous, Glamour Magazine friendly mise en scène. Added to that is the fact that its director, Pascal Chaumeil, has previously only worked on French television. And whilst its male lead, Romain Duris, is known for Jacques Audiard's acclaimed 'The Beat That My Heart Skipped', his female co-star Vanessa Paradis is more famous as a pop star than an actress.

The set-up is high concept stuff: Alex (Duris) is a man with a gift for seduction so great that he works professionally as a seducer of unhappy women. Friends and family of women in bad relationships call upon Alex to show the women that she is not with the right guy and that she deserves more. He has ground rules, chief among them is that he will not knowingly separate a happy couple. However, this is tested when a wealthy father offers Alex $50,000 to break-up his daughter Juliette's (Paradis) impending engagement, with ten days before the wedding. Alex refuses, as she seems happy, but crippling debts owed to threatening mobsters soon forces his hand and he poses as Juliette's bodyguard. Hilarity ensues.



On the surface it looks like a light and frothy, low-carb, calorie-free piece of cinema and the film's 105 minutes certainly do nothing to challenge this preconception. But it would take a hard hearted and cynical individual not to admit that there are a few genuine laughs to be had it what is probably the most fun, least cliché-ridden romantic comedy I was seen in a couple of years.

One of the main factors in my enjoyment was Romain Duris who is an extremely gifted and charismatic comic actor. I found myself laughing at his every movement and facial expression. There is a scene where he nervously and half-heartedly sings along to the Wham! song 'Wake Me Up Before you Go-Go' whilst driving. He mumbles his way through it, missing out lyrics and emphasising the odd line. Embarrassing, out-of-tune singing is not new to film comedy, but here Duris takes quite an ordinary bit of comic business and runs with it in a way that is genuinely amusing. Like the Mexican actor Gael García Bernal, Duris is able to be genuinely charming and attractive, yet he isn't afraid to be self-deprecating either and that combination is winsome. He is also (as he proves in the third act) a damn fine dancer!



Paradis is less interesting a presence, not helped by the fact her character spends a fair portion of the film being a bit unlikeable, giving our hero a hard time. But she isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination. There are also nice performances from Julie Ferrier ('Micmacs') and Belgian actor François Damiens ('JCVD'), who play a husband and wife duo working for Alex. The couple do the surveillance and research work for Alex, pinning down the strength and weaknesses, the likes and dislikes, of his targets. Ferrier in particular is quite funny, as her character constantly adopts new disguises wherever the group go.

It is also to the film's great credit that the inevitable scene of realisation (where Paradis learns Duris' identity) is not followed by a scene of conflict or misunderstanding as is so often the case in lazier films of this kind. It is for reasons such as this that 'Heartbreaker' stands out amongst its similarly glossy peers.



With its classy, chic Monaco setting and high-fashion characters, 'Heartbreaker' also offers a less tacky, genuinely classy alternative to the horrifying likes of 'Sex & the City 2'. There is really nothing to strongly object to here. Perhaps the scenes involving a silent Algerian strongman are ill-conceived and could easily be excised without doing the plot any harm, along with the entire "owing the gangsters money" sub-plot. But the film is fun enough and is knowing enough (subverting genre clichés more often that it conforms to them) that its flaws are easy to forgive and its joys easy to appreciate.

By no means a candidate for 'Film of the Year', like I said from the start this is throwaway, disposable stuff. It's the sort of film you'll forget you ever saw a week after you saw it. But for the time you are in the cinema it is more fun, more charming and more entertaining than it seemed to have any right to be. Rumoured to be subject of an American remake in the near future, it is doubtful whether the film will work without Romain Duris.

'Heartbreaker' is rated '15' by the BBFC and can be seen all week at Brighton's Duke of York's cinema.

'Inception' review and press conference!

There are two reasons why I didn't update yesterday. The first was rather unorthodox: I was out in the sun playing tennis for a large part of the day. The second was rather more typical.

On Wednesday I went up to London and saw a press screening of Christopher Nolan's 'Inception' - probably the film I have been most excited about all year. After the screening, which took place at Warner Brother's London base, I rushed over to the super lavish Mayfair hotel, The Dorchester, for a press conference with six of the film's stars. In attendance were Leonardo DiCaprio, Ellen Page, Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, as well as Nolan and his producer/wife Emma Thomas (seen below in a crappy mobile phone picture).



As cool as this was, my favourite aspect was probably the sandwiches laid on for the press by the hotel, which were out of this world - appropriately (given the nature of the film) the stuff of dreams.

Anyway, I was sent up to attend these two events by Obsessed with Film and as such the review and the press conference are up there now for your reading pleasure.

'Inception' is rated '12A' by the BBFC (isn't everything these days?) and is released on the 16th of July (next Friday).

'The Brothers Bloom' review: a hopelessly derivative crime caper with a game cast...

Admittedly I haven’t seen Rian Johnson’s 2005 directorial debut ‘Brick’, but from the trailer it looks dark, intense and original. In fact, at Sundance that year it won a “Special Jury Prize for Originality of Vision”. It comes as a surprise then to find that his second feature, ‘The Brother’s Bloom’, is a totally derivative work – most obviously inspired by the films of Wes Anderson and Bogdanovich’s ‘Paper Moon’. Being a fan of Wes Anderson myself, this does not necessarily make for unpleasant viewing, however it is all carried off to such an inferior standard (visually and in terms of writing) that audience goodwill quickly dissipates and you soon see why the film has taken the best part of two years to find distribution in the UK after playing Toronto in 2008.



About two big time con men - one looking for “something real” and the other for the perfect con - there is some fun to be had here with some amiable performers in the starring roles. Adrian Brody (himself an Anderson veteran), Mark Ruffalo and Rachel Weisz do their best with the material they are given. Brody, who plays the younger brother Bloom, has an improbably sad face which can’t help but register, whilst Ruffalo is good fun as the elder brother and expert con man, Stephen. However, the star of the show and certainly the most compelling reason to watch the film is Weisz, who really gets under the skin of her character and to her credit seems to have approached the whole project with the a charming conviction. Most of the (few) genuine laughs belong to her and her character is a sweet creation.



Unfortunately the Academy Award nominated Rinko Kikuchi is allowed to flounder in a self-consciously quirky, off-beat role as a Japanese accomplice of the con men. Johnson gives her precious little dialogue and she is relegated to a role as a modern day Burt Kwouk figure and junior partner in proceedings.

The irritating thing about ‘The Brothers Bloom’ is that it has some moments of promise and contains some very good ideas. The end twist is not unexpected but is signalled in a terrifically inventive fashion. However, the thirty-plus minutes prior to that are so full of unnecessary twists and turns, with Brody asking aloud “I don’t know what is a con and what is not!”, that you long since lose interest in the conclusion. There are also a great many terrible lines which often fall to Weisz, such as “a photograph is a secret about a secret” or “there is no such thing as an unwritten life, only a badly written one” which scream at you with self-congratulating smugness and mean nothing.



The opening ten minutes, which tell the tale of the boys in childhood performing their first con, are really quite fun - featuring the superb Max Records as the young Stephen. Mostly ‘The Brothers Bloom’ is hoping to be breezy and fun. The fact that it fails to achieve this goal means that it is certainly not a good film. But it is ultimately hard to really dislike a film as good-natured and kind-hearted as this. Which is not to say that I liked ‘The Brothers Bloom’ much at all.

'The Brothers Bloom' can still be seen at selected cinemas in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'Sons of Cuba' review: a brilliant and moving documentary on sporting life under Castro...

Set in 2006 'Sons of Cuba' sets the lives of three "Under-12" athletes at Havana's Boxing Academy against a backdrop of political uncertainty and change in Cuba, as an unwell Castro allows his younger brother Raúl to take over power. There is genuine concern and sadness on the faces of the youngsters as they gather around a television to hear the special news bulletin explaining events. With genuine affection the children refer to him as the "Comandante" and they read stories about his past exploits in colourful picture books as part of school.

There is a refreshing lack of cynicism amongst the young boxers as they refer to each other as "comrade athlete" and hug after bouts. When three champion boxers defect for the United States (where they stand to make more money by going professional) there is very real sadness and betrayal on the faces of every Cuban interviewed. A father tells us that one of the men lived on his street and was a role-model for his son, speaking of him in a tone and manner usually reserved for sex offenders or child murderers. When Castro fails to make a public appearance due to his poor health, the concerned children declare that they will fight the US if they dare attack now.



But if the US are for many Cubans something of a pantomime villain there are small signs that the island has not entirely escape cultural imperialism. One of the boxers wears a Nike jacket, whilst other T-shirts carry familiar slogans and images like "NYC". When the children exercise by pretending to row a boat, one of them shouts "lets row all the way to Florida!" British film-maker Andrew Lang's documentary may be understandably light on actual overt political dissent, but there is something bubbling under the surface.

Not least of all when we meet one junior athlete's father, a former Olympic and World Champion boxer who now lives in a run-down, one-room shack in quiet anonymity. He speaks well of Castro and fondly remembers the time the leader gave him a medal to honour his achievements. But there is more than a twinge of regret in his eyes. "They gave me a car and a house, but the car stopped working long ago and now I live here", he says before thinking and asking "it's not right me living like this is it?" Who is to say what is right and wrong here. How should a retired athlete live? But we imagine that he would be living more comfortably in the US and we are left to wonder if this is the fate that awaits the next generation of champions. At any rate, it contextualises the actions of those who defect.



Cuba has supplied more Olympic champion boxers than any other country and, beyond all the politics, this is chiefly what the documentary explores. How has this relatively small, poor and isolated nation bested the biggest and the wealthiest time and time again? 'Sons of Cuba' does a great job of explaining this. We see the children's daily routine as they get up at 4am to begin training. We see how, even at such a young age, they have their diets strictly monitored and controlled. We are shown the national championships they compete in with students from boxing academies throughout Cuba, which are hugely competitive. And whilst boxing is an individualistic sport, we see how the Cubans are encouraged to see it as a team game, playing in groups for their school. They are instilled with a fiery will to win, but also a huge amount of respect for their fellow fighters.

I am not a fan of boxing and know almost nothing about it, but this human drama, so full of poignant moments and extraordinary characters. The young boxers are so wise beyond their years that you forget they are the "under-12s". There are many scenes of tears, but these are shared with the mothers, the fathers and the coach. They are all on an emotional roller-coaster, hopeful that these young children will someday be able to compete at the Olympics. But, as the former champion tells us in his shack, "sport is a flickering moment". What the future holds for these young stars we do not yet know. But whatever happens, 'Sons of Cuba' is a moving and beautiful documentary that works on many levels. Equally good as a sporting story or as a socio-political document from an interesting time in Cuban history.




'Sons of Cuba' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and can be seen at Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse on 13th and 15th of July. Listen out for an upcoming Splendor Podcast on the subject and read Jon's review here.

'White Material' review: A handsomely made, but oddly unfulfilling post-colonial drama...

Claire Denis’ ‘White Material’ comes with many a high recommendation. It placed (joint) 6th in Sight and Sound magazine’s 2009 poll of critics and it was not the only Denis directed film on the list as ‘35 Shots of Rum’ (also released in France last year) was joint 2nd. Jonathan Romney wrote that having two films in the list served to “reassert her position as one of the most avidly followed auteurs in art cinema” and, in the pages of the same publication, Nick James has reserved even higher praise for Denis writing that “there’s no better film-maker working in the world right now.” Given all this praise it is hardly surprising that ‘White Material’ was heralded as the July issue’s Film of the Month. Elsewhere, Peter Bradshaw’s four star review of the film in The Guardian saw him label it her best since ‘Beau Travail’ and called Denis “a poet of mood and moment”.

This puts me in an awkward position as a reviewer - one I found myself in earlier this year with ‘A Prophet’ – in that I am left wondering whether I have the courage to be like the little boy in the story of the Emperor’s new clothes and declare publicly that I can’t see what they are talking about. ‘White Material’ (and to a lesser extent ’35 Shots of Rum’) is a movie I almost hesitate to criticise as I start to doubt whether I understood it at all. “What did I miss?” I ask. I’m sure it’s in there and I scratch my head whilst fighting against my heart in a vain attempt to locate what I am missing.



I start to try I identify what other critics may be seeing: Claire Denis makes films of undeniable beauty and yet they are also always gritty enough so as to escape being called glossy or shallow. They take no particular viewpoint or political stance (at least none that I can identify) and so they can be lauded as non-judgemental and held up as a sort of objective “truth”. They are slow and subtle works, at their finest capable of evoking great joy and sorrow and of being tense and even frightening whilst still being poignant and tender. But time and time again they leave me cold, unengaged and even a little bored.

Why should I be bored? ‘White Material’ is set in post-colonial Africa in the midst of a civil war. There is barbarity and intimidation throughout. There are scenes of graphic violence, which should be all the more shocking by their close resemblance to reality: Isabelle Huppert portrays a woman whose family coffee plantation is under threat in a changing political climate – one which will see her become the victim of a racially motivated attack not too dissimilar from the kind seen in Zimbabwe in recent years (as shown in the documentary ‘Mugabe and the White African’). There are also child soldiers, reminiscent of those in another recent feature: ‘Johnny Mad Dog’. The political relevance of this story and the potential for something more polemical about racism, colonialism and modern Africa are at the route of my frustration with ‘White Material’. It could say so much and yet seems proud to say nothing at all.



Making overtly political films is very much against current critical favour. To confirm this you only need to watch a few interviews with Kathryn Bigelow as she marched towards her 'Best Director' Oscar earlier this year for ‘The Hurt Locker’. In almost every one she declared proudly that the film was A-political and in no way a comment on rights and wrongs of the Iraq war itself. Ever since Michael Moore popularised left-wing political activism in the early part of the last decade (to some making it seem crass), it has been accepted that the best films are not ideological but simply observe an event impartially.

But one of the best articles from the Cahiers Du Cinema that I ever read at university (and to my shame I can not remember its author) discussed how film is always ideological and can not help but be so. In fact when a filmmaker claims that their work is not ideological, instead suggesting that it is a reflection of how the world actually is, what we see is “truth” as they see it: the “real” world artificially constructed by them and shown through their lens. This sort of filmmaking is somehow more insidious and, even, more dangerous. The people who admit they are making a point are at least flagging up that their film is an idea, whereas when Michael Bay makes a sexist, racist, neo-conservative 'Transformers' movie he can call it entertainment and dismiss any political readings of the movie altogether.

I am not for a moment suggesting every filmmaker needs to be Jean-Luc Godard. In fact on this very blog I have lauded several films in the past for their honesty or objectivity ('The Hurt Locker' among them). But to set a film in post-colonial Africa and say nothing about race or politics whilst you are there is not, for me at least, a fulfilling exercise. Perhaps this could be forgiven if Isabelle Huppert did not cut such an unsympathetic and slightly annoying figure as the protagonist. Nicolas Duvauchelle ('The Girl on the Train')is slightly better as her son who, after one encounter with child soldiers, shaves his head begins carrying a gun, clearly now insane. His unsettling presence suggests a threat which never materializes and he is decidedly underused, his motivations never investigated. Christophe ('Highlander') Lambert is the husband and father and is a solid if unspectacular performer, but again has little to do in a film which is content to follow Huppert around as she consistently ignores warnings from workers, family members and the army about the inevitable violence and disaster to come.



The full extent of her ignorance of the situation is apparent when she visits a pharmacy and comments that they have perhaps gone over the top with security, having an armed guard outside. They respond by saying that they fear it is not enough and later we see that they have been murdered in their shop. If the film creates anxiety it is at the realisation that you are following the only character who has no idea what is taking place, or at least a character who is deluding themselves in an attempt to cling to the past. Unlike the real-life Mike Campbell in 'Mugabe and the White African', Huppert does not come across as strong or brave: just stupid.

Her stupidity is not a compelling enough reason to watch what is happening or to care much about it. I can't help but feel that someone like Werner Herzog would have gotten more out of the extremes of this situation and the insanity of these characters and in doing so he would have said something about human absurdity. In Denis' hands I was left to appreciate the stunning photography and feel nothing, emotionally or intellectually. We are not shown the causes of the trouble which is taking place, instead we are just left to watch a piece of apathetic "oh dearism". And that is a tragedy. I am yet to be convinced that Denis is wearing any clothes.

'White Material' is out now in the UK and is showing at the Duke of York's Picturehouse until Thursday the 8th of July. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Whatever Works' review: Larry David plus Woody Allen? Should be pretty, pretty good...

Larry David and Woody Allen have a lot in common. Both born in Brooklyn, both Jewish, both influenced by Groucho Marx. Both worked in stand-up comedy (though Allen with far greater success) and though both men have acted they are probably most celebrated for their writing. It makes sense then that Larry David (the co-creator of 'Seinfeld' and genius behind 'Curb Your Enthusiasm') and Woody Allen should end up working together, with David starring in Allen's latest comedy 'Whatever Works' (which also marks the filmmaker's return to his native New York after four films away in Europe). David had small parts in 'Radio Days' and Allen's segment of 'New York Stories', but this is his first substantial work with the director. Like 'Tetro' (also out now in the UK), 'Whatever Works' was released over a year ago in the US, but even then it is supposedly thirty years late, apparently having been conceived in the late 70s as a vehicle for Zero Mostel (who died in 1977).



It is oddly fitting that Larry David should be picked to play a role written for Zero Mostel, David having performed the role of Max Bialystock in season four of 'Curb', that series seeing him join the cast of 'The Producers' on Broadway. And whilst slighter in build, David is every bit as large a personality as Mostel. Perhaps not as loud or licentious as he could be, but every bit as direct and (most importantly) funny. Here he is funny as the misanthropic, embittered and pessimistic physicist Boris, particularly when directly addressing the audience ("I was considered for a Nobel prize in physics... I didn't get it!"). He is joined by Evan Rachel Wood's Melody, an upbeat and impressionable young Southerner who he allows to stay in his home and with whom he strikes up an unlikely friendship. As with all Allen film's an impressive cast of actors occupy the various supporting roles (including Michael McKean, Patricia Clarkson and Ed Begley Jr.) and all perform well.



The problem with the film is two fold. Firstly the Southern characters played by Clarkson and Wood are too broadly drawn and cliché, with many of the gags revolving around supposed dumbness. The targets of the jokes are familiar and well worn (not least in Allen's films) and include religion, Republican politics and gun ownership. Evan Rachel Wood in particular is charming and winsome, but she seems more like a live-action Penelope Pitstop than a real human being. This may be the style of the piece rather than a flaw in the writing, which is perhaps less 'Manhattan' and more 'Small Time Crooks' in tone and style (certainly visually), but it is a less satisfying movie as a result. The second problem is that the film is only interesting or funny when Larry David is on screen and for long stretches he is not.



When Larry is on screen the film is funny, but usually because of his posture, his mannerisms and speech pattern rather than what he is saying. There are some genuinely funny lines, notably in scenes which see him castigating young children for failing to beat him at chess, but too many of the gags are obvious, such as the recurring joke that sees the dumb Southerners mistake Boris' sarcasm for a statement of fact (consequently believing that he plays baseball for the Yankees). However, it is amusing to hear Boris' ongoing rant about how everybody is less smart than him as it almost serves as a parody of the Allen character from many of his greatest films like 'Annie Hall' or 'Manhattan'.

In many ways 'Whatever Works' is reminiscent of 'Manhattan' in that the central character is romantically involved with a younger woman who he tries to educate and improve. He is patronising towards her, calling her a "sweet kid" and questions her emotional development. Both go on the same journey, becoming more accepting of those they consider beneath them. Borris is eventually able to contemplate a relationship with the most irrational and non-scientific of people: a psychic.



It is hard to find fault with the film's philosophy, that (to quote the closing monologue) "whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works." Woody's heart is in the right place and his suggestion that we should embrace love wherever we find it (possibly a point he is compelled to make as a means of self-defense against outside judgements of his own personal life) is a wise one. But from an intellectual standpoint 'Whatever Works' is certainly Allen-lite.

It is hard to imagine that 'Whatever Works' will be an enduring classic of the Woody Allen canon. It is pleasant enough to watch. There are some funny moments and it's always nice to see Woody shoot his Autumnal romanticised view of New York and to hear his familiar musical choices (the highlight being Groucho Marx singing "Hello, I Must Be Going" from 'Animal Crackers' over the opening credits). But there is nothing fresh here, nothing to make the film stand out. In the end it is less than the sum of its parts, the dream pairing of Larry David and Woody Allen less satisfying than watching an episode of 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' or a vintage Woody Allen movie. I suspect 'Whatever Works' was not simply a screenplay put on hiatus due to the death of Zero Mostel, but rather because its writer used to have better ideas and make better films.

'Whatever Works' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is still on general release in cinemas across the UK. It is playing at the Duke of York's Picturehouse in Brighton until next Thursday.

'Tetro' review: Francis Ford Coppola rediscovers his talent...

'The Godfather'. 'The Conversation'. 'Apocalypse Now'. With these three films Francis Ford Coppola had, by 1979, boldly and permanently engraved his name into cinema history. So universally admired and influential are those three films that his years spent as a hired gun in order to pay off debts (making such films as 'Jack' and the second 'Godfather' sequel) have done little to damage his reputation or to tarnish his legacy. With his place in history assured, the elder statesman of cinema is now able to make films (more or less) for his own sake and whenever he sees fit. His output has sharply declined over the last decade, but his recent movies are smaller and much more personal. None more so then 'Tetro', the film released in the US over a year ago (on June 11th 2009 to be precise) and the first to carry a solo writing credit for Coppola since 'The Conversation' in 1974.



'Tetro' stars enfant terrible Vincent Gallo in the title role as a man who has forsaken his past and, to some extent, his future in order to live a life of quiet anonymity. Maribel Verdú plays his supportive and kind-hearted girlfriend Miranda, whilst obscure television bit-part actor Alden Ehrenreich is his brother Bennie. Gallo, in spite of his reputation as a combative and sometimes spiteful man off camera, imbues Tetro with a warmth and vulnerability which is sometimes quite moving. He convinces completely as the suffering artist type and performs with an undeniable intensity.

Equally good is Verdú, who almost stole the show from Bernal and Luna in 2001's 'Y tu mamá también' and is just as brilliant a performer here. It is unthinkable that aside from roles in 'Pan's Labyrinth' and the 2004 flop 'The Alamo' Verdú has not been a regular sight on international movie screens. But happily Coppola has taken notice and in 'Tetro' she is able to showcase her talent: giving Miranda strength and intelligence, but also compassion and genuine sex appeal. Despite these winning performances, Alden Ehrenreich gives the star turn here, being reminiscent of a young Leonardo DiCaprio (with maybe a hint of Brando) in his facial expressions, mannerisms and delivery. Already tipped by some as the next Spiderman actor, Ehrenreich could definitely be a major star in the near future. There is also a small but welcome role for Rodrigo de la Serna (whose most famous role was in Walter Salles' 'The Motorcycle Diaries' in 2004) who is a cheerful screen presence as Tetro's friend Jose.




Mihai Malaimare Jr. (who also worked on Coppola's 2007 film 'Youth Without Youth') is responsible for the film's remarkable black and white photography, mostly shot in Spain and Argentina (where the film is set). You will not see a more beautifully composed and (dare I say) stylishly shot film this year. I was concerned before seeing it that 'Tetro' could turn out to be nothing more than art for arts sake: a pretentious and self-indulgent work and an exercise in style over substance. Yet 'Tetro' is in fact mainly driven by its story and the relationships between its central characters.

The narrative is admittedly slight and could probably be summarised in a few sentences, but the film's form helps to convey the emotional journey undertaken by Tetro and Bennie in coming to terms with the family's past. I don't know enough about Coppola's background to be certain, but this story of the rivalry between a fathers and sons feels as though it is of personal significance to the director. Tetro's flashbacks, which (in an amusing reversal of cinematic convention) take place in colour and a different aspect ratio to the rest of the film, are pretty successful at establishing a very real cause for the character's hurt. They are also somehow among the most convincing "memories" ever committed to film, feeling like incomplete sketches of moments in time. Not so much what happened, but what Tetro feels about what happened from his viewpoint.



Sometimes the film is self-consciously flashy, perhaps to its detriment as it distracts from the action at hand (such as when Tetro is seen speaking to Bennie in silhouette - cool as the image is). There are also colourful, CGI-infused scenes of dance in homage to the great ballet films of old (such as 'The Red Shoes' or 'The Tales of Hoffmann') which, for me at least, fell flat and seemed a little self-indulgent. But for every frame of misplaced virtuosity there is a genuine moment of genius. For example, there is a brilliant and jarring reverse angle involving a motorcycle accident which is powerful and magnificently executed.

Perhaps the film is too serious, too humourless for too much of its running time (which is overlong at just over two hours). It is intensely dramatic, and it is not an exaggeration to say it is almost operatic - not unlike Coppola's 'Godfather' films. This is clearly the desired effect but it leaves me feeling a little cold and disconnected. There are also some interesting themes which are not explored to a satisfactory degree. For instance, Tetro challenges Bennie to murder him in order to make the ending of his play more truthful. This idea about the relationship between art and "truth" and the supposed virtue in linking one to the other might have been better developed.



Despite these flaws there is almost no sensible argument for denying that 'Tetro' is Francis Ford Coppola's most interesting film since 1983's 'Rumble Fish' (with which the film bears more than a passing resemblance). That is not to say it is the most enjoyable or fun since that date, but it is certainly his most complete movie in a long while. It is written, directed and produced by Coppola with clear engagement and real love. In 'Tetro' we may have evidence that one of the medium's most celebrated artists has rediscovered his muse. A fact which we can only hope will lead to more interesting films in the future. If it doesn't turn out that way, then it is at least a respectable closing chapter to an interesting career.

'Tetro' is rated '15' by the BBFC and can still be seen at selected cinemas in the UK. The Duke of York's have two shows left at the time of writing: 13.30 and 18.15 on Thursday the 1st of July.