'Contagion' review:

In the 21st century, doomsday scenarios don't come much more frightening than the threat of a sudden worldwide viral outbreak. More than two decades since the end of the Cold War, the atomic bomb ceases to seem like a credible threat to our day to day lives - however frightening the prospect of those weapons might remain. But a deadly and highly contagious epidemic, rapidly spreading around the globe in the age of frequent air travel and increased global trade? That danger resonates stronger than ever with the public, as the sensationalist tabloid reporting on SARS and Avian Flu in the last decade can confirm. It's a fear that helped propel 'Contagion' to the top of the US box office last month, with Steven Soderbergh's latest star-studded ensemble movie exploiting our paranoia with deadly precision as we witness a queasily realistic depiction of a disease which kills tens of millions of people in less than a year.

Opening shots focus on human interaction and with great economy depict the dozens of ways such an outbreak might spread, as people shake hands, hand over money or serve food. These sinister close-ups turn everyday items and normal social behaviour into something out of a horror film. The ominous electronic score composed by Cliff Martinez (whose work was so crucial to the success of 'Drive' earlier this year) helps compound this air of tension as the sickly (and soon-to-be-dead) Gwyneth Paltrow makes her way from Hong Kong to Minnesota, stopping in Illinois along the way for some extra-marital sex, unknowingly providing us with one more example of how such an infection might be passed amongst the population.



In the wake of this first death we are introduced to nearly a dozen scarcely connecting characters who could feel more like experimental lab chimps than people, each existing to show us another face of the tragedy in a film which is primarily concerned with the mechanics of how such an event would take place and how the authorities might seek to contain it. They are for the most part ciphers, but the calibre of actor Soderbergh can attract ensures that performances are strong across the board, with Matt Damon (a grieving husband), Kate Winslet, Marion Cotillard, Jennifer Ehle, Laurence Fishburne and Elliott Gould (as assorted determined scientist types), Bryan Cranston (a military man) and Jude Law (an online conspiracy theorist) helping to add personality to this determinedly sterile, macro account of events. And with one Oscar winner already in a body bag shortly after the credits, it's clear that even A-list status might not be enough to ensure survival.

As the year rolls on and the death toll climbs new problems emerge off the back of the epidemic, including widespread social unrest (looting, arson, violence, murder), political scandal and manipulation of the media - courtesy of misinformation and distrust spread by Law's popular blogger. Meanwhile doctors struggle to provide a cure and supermarkets run out of food. The wide-ranging consequences of the outbreak - presented in a hyper-realistic way - only heighten our fear of such an event, which here turns major cities like Minneapolis and San Francisco into something resembling a third world war zone. Though in spite of the film's pursuit of gritty realism, Scott Z. Burns' dense, medical jargon heavy script is still (I think playfully) peppered with disaster movie clichés ("it's figuring us out quicker than we're figuring it out!"), the best of which sees one city official oppose telling citizens to stay in their homes in the run up to Thanksgiving ("the busiest shopping week of the year!").



If his public declaration that he is retiring from cinema (pending completion of his next two projects: 'Haywire' and 'Magic Mike') is to be believed, 'Contagion' looks set to be one of Soderbergh's final films, which would be a great pity: he's often been as interesting as he is prolific. After all, he's been responsible for works as diverse as 'Sex, Lies and Videotape', 'Traffic', and 'Che', in a career spent alternating between the defiantly commercial likes of 'Ocean's Eleven' and such wilfully obscure titles as 'The Girlfriend Experience' and 'Bubble' (an experiment in simultaneous theatrical, DVD and TV on demand releasing). A few of his films have been near great, whilst others can be chalked up as folly without too much cause for controversy, but Soderbergh - one of a few directors who acts as his own cinematographer - is always worth a watch. And never more so than with 'Contagion'.

It feels slightly too long (I was surprised to find it only lasted 106 minutes) and, in terms of narrative focus, it's every bit as scattershot as its director's filmography - with some characters unceremoniously forgotten, whilst others reappear just as you've forgotten they were in the film to begin with. Yet it's gripping, frightening, filled with haunting images and, I suspect, it will come to be seen as the definitive film about worldwide medical crisis. If the worst should happen and such an event does take place in our lifetimes, you will likely here someone say "it's just like in that movie 'Contagion'" as an army roadblock closes your town. It certainly left me wanting to stockpile supplies and seal the exits, too frightened to touch my own face. And that's the sign of a good film.

'Contagion' is out in the UK now where it is rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'The Ides of March' review:

The story of a wide-eyed idealist's transformation into a dead-eyed cynic, 'The Ides of March' is George Clooney's fourth film behind the camera and, based on the play Farragut North, marks a return to the type of earnest liberal outrage that marked his one unequivocal success to date as a director: 'Good Night, and Good Luck'. It's also the first major movie tangibly stained with the disappointment that has followed the euphoria of Barack Obama's 2008 election victory, with Clooney casting himself as a presidential candidate who similarly promises much but - even during the nomination process - is forced to concede many of his closely held ideals in order to become president.

With its focus on the American electoral process - with terms like "delegates" and "primaries" bandied about - Aaron Sorkin's seminal TV series 'The West Wing' is an obvious point of reference and indeed that show's legacy is felt here in some of the fast-paced banter between the candidate and his staffers, as well as in the breathless walk and talks that see strategy mapped out in corridors. But whereas Sorkin depicted political aides who fought passionately for their ideals in spite of a flawed system, here the fall of Ryan Gosling's campaign strategist paints a more pessimistic picture of American political life, with the relatively young and (we're told) brilliant campaigner coming to disregard his principles through a combination of ambition and betrayal. And whilst 'The West Wing' is, at its core, about a group of highly intelligent and well-meaning Democrats who always have each other's backs, 'The Ides of March' follows a group of highly intelligent and well-meaning Democrats who will sell out the few friends they have the moment their political careers are jeopardised.



The resolute heartlessness of Clooney's film will come as a surprise to many, with an overwhelming mood of hopelessness surrounding the fate of his characters and the suggestion that genuine friendship is impossible in high-end politics. Almost no one appears to have been satisfied ultimately, not Philip Seymour Hoffman's highly strung campaign manager, his underhanded political rival played by Paul Giamatti or Evan Rachel Wood's tragic and sexy young intern. In this world those with the least scruples are those who seem to get ahead - with Marisa Tomei's investigative journalist (portrayed as little more than a gossip merchant) and Jeffery Wright's ambitious, mercenary senator emerging from the thriller's twists and turns unscathed. That all the double-crossing schemers depicted are supporters of the same political party only heightens the sense of despair.

It's not as accomplished as 'Good Night, and Good Luck' or as inventive as 'Confessions of a Dangerous Mind', but with snappy, quotable dialogue ("you can start a war, you can bankrupt a country, but you can't fuck the interns! They get you for that!"), good performances from the uniformly excellent cast and Clooney's assured, unfussy handling of the material, 'The Ides of March' is an entirely decent political thriller. Be warned though, it's not exactly a "feel-good" movie. After all, when one of Hollywood's most outspoken liberals loses all faith in politics, what hope is there for the rest of us?!

'The Ides of March' opens on Friday (28th October) in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC.

'The Adventures of Tintin' review:

In the popular imagination Steven Spielberg was once a name that stood for high-class family friendly adventure, with the Hollywood powerhouse having helped to redefine the modern spectacle-led blockbuster in the 1980s: directing the iconic likes of 'E.T.' and the 'Indiana Jones' trilogy, whilst producing 'The Goonies', 'Gremlins' and 'Back to the Future'. Yet in 1993 everything seemed to change for the filmmaker who suddenly "went serious". He'd always had a wider ranging filmography than he's given credit (including films as diverse as farcical comedy '1941', TV-made horror 'Duel', David Lean-style epic 'Empire of the Sun' and the romantic drama 'Always'), but snaring the Best Director statuette at the Academy Awards that year - for the black and white and grimly serious 'Schindler's List' - seems to have provoked an almost wholesale abandonment of the superior family fare that was his particular genius.

Aside from two poorly received sequels - 1997's 'Jurassic Park: The Lost World' and 2008's 'Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull' - the years since his austere holocaust epic have yielded well-meaning slavery drama 'Amistad', sentimental WWII drama 'Saving Private Ryan', forgettable Israeli vengeance thriller 'Munich' and the melancholy, Kubrick-devised 'AI: Artificial Intelligence'. Even his returns to comparatively light material have been more adult-focussed than his reputation might once have suggested, with the Tom Hanks comedies 'Catch Me If You Can' and 'The Terminal' and Tom Cruise sci-fi movies 'Minority Report' and 'War of the Worlds'. Even his output as a producer has become more cynical and less winsomely old fashioned, as best displayed by the putrid, morally/creatively bankrupt 'Transformers' movies and the humourless, overblown 'Cowboys and Aliens'.

Yet even as he readies the "worthy" award bait 'War Horse' for release just in time for back-slapping season, this year Spielberg makes a welcome return to his old stomping ground: bidding to entertain children worldwide all over again with an animated adaptation of 'The Adventures of Tintin'. Whilst he's long held an interest in animation - producing the fondly remembered Don Bluth films of the 80s ('An American Tale' and 'The Land Before Time') and several terrific 90s TV series (including 'Tiny Toon Adventures' and 'Animaniacs') - this comic book adaptation marks his debut directorial effort in the medium (as well as in 3D), and has seen him work closely in collaboration with fellow live action specialist Peter Jackson - the planned director of the film's sequel, should it perform as expected at the box office this winter.



'Tintin' finds its director in playful mood, subtly referencing some of his earlier films with neat visual touches, and it's no surprise if the film feels as though it's channelling a younger Spielberg. After all, his adaptation of this material has had a long gestation period, beginning with the acquisition of the film rights as early as 1984 - a year after the death of the books' author Hergé, who named the American as the material's ideal director. Over the years it's been touted as a live action film (the original concept would have seen Jack Nicholson as alcoholic Scott Captain Haddock) before finally winding up a dazzling example of motion capture, courtesy of Jackson's New Zealand effects outfit WETA. Drawing material largely from the books 'The Crab With the Golden Claws', 'The Secret of the Unicorn', 'Red Rackham's Treasure' and - unexpectedly - 'The Castafiore Emerald', the adaptation sees intrepid reporter Tintin (Jamie Bell) and his faithful dog Snowy trying to discover the significance of a small model ship stolen from by the mysterious aristocrat Sakharine (Daniel Craig).

Sakharine (a red herring non-villain in the original) is hoping to uncover some legendary pirate booty, whilst also settling a score with the oblivious, self-pitying drunkard Captain Haddock (mo-cap veteran Andy Serkis), whose ship he has stolen. This inter-generational feud plot-line is in an invention of British screenwriters Steven Moffat, Joe Cornish and Edgar Wright which serves to give a scrapbook array of original elements something of a dramatic through-line and a clear baddie. It's a change that will drive die-hard Tintin fans nuts, but it's a smart move from a narrative point of view. That the grudge match is resolved in a credibility stretching battle between two cargo cranes (staged as a colossal sword fight) is a pity, but the idea itself is compelling.

On the whole the changes are on a smaller scale and relate to the order of events rather than the spirit of Hergé's books. The characters are photo-realistic renderings in the artist's own distinctive style of caricature, which are stylised enough to avoid the ugly, unsettling "uncanny valley" effect felt strongly in the recent Robert Zemeckis animations (such as 'Beowulf') and characters, like the bumbling British detectives Thomson and Thompson (Simon Pegg and Nick Frost), are portrayed faithfully. As the titular hero Bell acquits himself well, portraying him as a capable young adult where so many other adaptations over the years (notably the rubbish French-Canadian animated series) cast him as irritatingly boyish. Snowy is also deployed well - an effective aid to his master and an equally effective excuse for lengthy spoken exposition (in this respect Snowy is the original Chewbacca/R2-D2).



The stand-out bit of action is an extended flashback as Haddock enthusiastically relives an encounter between his 17th century ancestor Sir Francis Haddock and a pirate ship on the high seas. The jaw-dropping and inventive choreography of this sequence is much more high-octane than its source equivalent and - as some would have it - marks a departure from Hergé's more grounded and meticulously researched world. Though coming via Haddock's drunken storytelling and delivered with a great sense of fun, the filmmakers come away credibility intact.

Tintin is apparently virtually unknown in the US, so Spielberg might (with some justification) have sought to Americanise this very European series in the course of adapting it. However fans will be pleased to learn that the story begins in a timeless (non-specific early twentieth century) Europe, with Tommy guns and classic cars (Tintin doesn't have an iPhone 4) and exclusively features actors with quintessentially "old world" accents. The tone of this adventure varies between brightly coloured 'Indiana Jones' style Saturday matinee action, broad pratfalls and the oppressive mood of film noir, with this blend meshing comfortably. It's also the most gutsy children's film in a while and doesn't talk down to its young audience (note the irksome, charmless 'Happy Feet Two' was trailed beforehand as if to highlight the current low standard of kids movies). For instance, Tintin wields a gun - a surprise considering the director infamously replaced guns with walkie-talkies digitally in his "20th Anniversary Edition" of 'E.T.' - and Haddock slurps whiskey like there's no tomorrow.

It's fair to say that there are too many frantic chase sequences and the film feels a tad long, but overall Spielberg and Jackson's take on the material is respectful and makes for suitably exciting viewing. It is easily the most unashamedly fun Spielberg has been since 'Jurassic Park' almost two decades ago and, though I suspect it's going to prove an interesting sidestep rather than a sign of things to come, I'm very glad he's snuck in this elaborate caveat ahead of the inevitably yawnsome 'War Horse'. A film which may well win him another Oscar and confirm my suspicion that - in terms of award recognition - it's better to be a passable dramatist than a world class showman. How different things might have been if he'd received Academy recognition for 'E.T.' At least we have 'The Adventures of Tintin'.

'The Adventures of Tintin' is released in the UK from tomorrow (October 26th) and has been rated 'PG' by the BBFC.

'The Three Musketeers 3D' review:

Few will be surprised to learn that 'The Three Musketeers 3D', directed by Paul W.S. Anderson (the force behind the 'Resident Evil' movies and 'Alien vs. Predator'), is terrible. So terrible in fact that Orlando Bloom is by far the best thing in it, stealing the show as the villainous Duke of Buckingham. There are far too many set pieces in this artless affair, which are as uninvolving as they are silly, whilst almost no time is spent developing any of the (many) characters in a vaguely steampunk re-imagining of the Alexandre Dumas novel.

Somewhat counter-intuitively, we spend very little time in the company of titular trio Athos (Matthew Macfadyen), Porthos (Ray Stevenson) and Aramis (Luke Evans), with Anderson apparently not interested in them at all outside of the fights. Instead he forever cuts between the camp courtly antics of King Louis XIII (Freddie Fox) struggling to woo his demure Queen (Juno Temple), interminable scenes of exposition between Cardinal Richelieu (Christoph Waltz) and Milady (the director's wife, Milla Jovovich) and an excruciatingly wearisome romantic sub-plot that finds D'Artagnan (Logan Lerman) attempt to earn the affections of the world's most non-descript and joyless woman (Gabriella Wilde) whilst fostering a deep, juvenile resentment for Comte de Rochefort (Mads Mikkelsen) after an insult to his horse. Oh, and "funnyman" James Corden is in there too as comedy relief character Planchet, just to make things seventeen times less charming.



Introduced via freeze-frame in the style of early Guy Ritchie, the Musketeers come over as pathetic brawlers who murder lots of jobbing town guards for sport and without the slightest consequence, somehow earning the witless gratitude of their child king. Their personalities are boiled down to: the bitter one, the ladies man and the hungry one. The only thing they have going for them is that they aren't anywhere near grating as the film's cocky, American-accented version of D'Artagnan, who is reminiscent of Christian Slater as Will Scarlett in 1991's 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves'. The deliberateness of his colonial accent is made apparent by the fact that his father is also American, despite being played by the English Dexter Fletcher. I only mention this because it stands out in a movie where everyone else is resolutely old world, with the thinking probably being that US audiences won't care unless there is an American character to cheer for (an assumption I believe doesn't give American audiences enough credit or respect).

Some of Bloom's bitchy dialogue and Waltz's deliciously sarcastic delivery raises a smile, but not enough of one to make nearly two hours of anodyne action and sloppy storytelling an attractive prospect. To give Anderson some lukewarm credit, he showed with 'Resident Evil: Afterlife' that he is at least one of the few directors out there who is trying to give 3D a go (shooting on actual 3D cameras rather than relying on the dreaded post-conversion process and framing his shots with stereoscopy in mind) and he resumes that effort here, with 'Musketeers' a resolutely 3D affair from beginning to end. That said, for all his enthusiasm he doesn't bring much imagination to the process, having swords point "out of" the screen a lot and staging much of the action place down long corridors to give the audience an ostentatious and meaningless sense of depth.



'The Three Musketeers 3D' is up there with the very worst of cinema experiences, if only because it's flavourless, calculatedly inoffensive and instantly forgettable - likely the sort of thing I'll pick up a DVD box for in a few years time and wonder "have I seen this?". It's a total mess in terms of narrative, the good guys are blank non-entities and it has nothing whatsoever to offer in terms of spectacle. It also has one of the most optimistic and cumbersome sequel hooks since Roland Emmerich cut to a hatching egg at the end of his god-awful 'Godzilla' remake. It'll doubtlessly turn a tidy profit with its European funding, embarrassing CGI work and TV actor-lead cast implying it didn't cost that much to make, but I expect a lack of public enthusiasm will keep Buckingham's airship armada from ever reaching Calais.

'The Three Musketeers 3D' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is released in the UK from Wednesday 12th.

'Tyrannosaur' review:

Olivia Colman is lovely isn't she? I don't know her personally, but what I mean is she seems lovely on the telly. Turning up in TV sitcoms, as Sophie in 'Peep Show' or the vicar's wife in 'Rev', I am never in any doubt that her characters are basically good and beyond harmless, probably in part thanks to her big, friendly eyes. She certainly isn't someone you want to see beaten, raped and literally pissed on by Eddie Marsan in a grim, socially real, British movie about social isolation and domestic violence. But here we are.

I'm fairly sure, unless you're some sort of psychopath, there aren't any people you wish to see in that situation, but for me that goes doubly for lovely, smiling Olivia Colman. Which is one of the many reasons Paddy Considine's debut film as a writer and director, 'Tyrannosaur', can be pretty hard to take. Terrifically acted and deeply moving, but a tough watch indeed.



In it Colman is Hannah, a devout Christian woman who leaves her middle class house every day to work in a drab charity shop on the rough side of town - probably just to get away from her vicious husband James, played by an especially scary Marsan. James is possessive and spiteful and some of the things he does to Hannah defy belief, existing outside the realms of even your cruelest imagination. The violence in 'Tyrannosaur' may be less explicit and frequent than scenes in the similarly grim 'Kill List' (also from Warp Films), or even the recent thriller 'Drive', but it's far more hard-hitting because it's based in a deeply upsetting reality. And it somehow keeps getting worse, with the level of abuse suffered by Hannah still being revealed right up to the very end.

It is working at the charity shop that Hannah meets Joseph played by Peter Mullan, who is the sort of unpredictable, violent and all too recognisable old drunk that spends his days drinking in the corner of his local boozer, babbling incomprehensibly to himself. He is the opposite of harmless and when we first see Joseph he is kicking his dog to death in the street. After a chance encounter he befriends Hannah and we get to glimpse the underlying tragedy of this disturbing individual you'd be wise to cross the street to avoid. Both characters - and even the sickening James to an extent - are depicted with considerable compassion and deeply affecting empathy, with neither straying into caricature.



Mullan is for all intents and purposes the star of the film, which mostly takes his point of view - and he is excellent in it, with the sometime director (of 'The Magdalene Sisters' and recently 'Neds') able to portray this dog-kicking racist as rounded and human without undergoing some unlikely third act u-turn. With that in mind it seems unfair to single out Colman in this review, but there is nothing to be done about that because, for me at least, she is the heart of the movie and the key ingredient. It is really something that she can play this doe-eyed Christian victim without making her infuriating or wet in the least, and the more we care about Hannah the more wretched much of what you see will likely make you feel.

On this first showing, it would seem Considine is a very comfortable director of actors and an intelligent writer of characters. If he has displayed any similarity with his friend and frequent collaborator Shane Meadows, then it is in the fact that he has used his debut feature to take the side of elements of society most would not willingly gravitate toward, and he has done so with confidence and a keen eye for social detail.

'Tyrannosaur' is rated '18' by the BBFC and is on general release in the UK.

'Midnight in Paris' released today!

For the best part of the last two decades almost every Woody Allen movie - with a few exceptions - has been hailed as a "return to form", so much that the claim rings a little hollow. However, 'Midnight in Paris' merits that claim. It's his freshest and funniest film in a long time, raising some genuine big laughs as opposed to knowing titters, and Paris is photographed as beautiful as you'd expect from the man who for long idealised New York for the popular imagination. It's been rewarded for its quality too, grossing over $100 million in the US - making it Allen's most commercially successful film since the 70s.

I reviewed it after seeing it upon its French release earlier this year (appropriately enough in a Pathé multiplex in Montmartre, Paris), but today sees it finally released in the UK. I urge even the most casual Woody Allen fans to go and see it.

The film has been rated '12A' by the BBFC and you can catch it at Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse from next Friday.

'Melancholia' review:

"Life is only on Earth and not for long" says Justine (Kirtsen Dunst) somewhere near the apocalyptic conclusion of Lars Von Trier's 'Melancholia'. Though much has been made of the film's superficial similarity to Terrence Malick's 'Tree of Life' - which also premièred at Cannes earlier this year and to more unanimous acclaim - this pessimistic musing on life, the universe and everything is as close as the films come to sharing theme. Malick conveys a reverence for life, whilst the Dane sees the stars as no more magical than the act of going to the toilet. Both may feature awe-inspiring CGI renderings of immense planetary bodies, but Von Trier's film is not about the grand religious concerns that defined Malick's; the director has long spoken of his struggle with depression and this, like 2009's 'Antichrist', is the cinematic product of that suffering.

An arch-provocateur with a, shall we say, dark sense of humour, Von Trier's claim to mental illness has been reported sceptically, with critics wary not to end up the butt of some obtuse, private joke. However, as someone who has long struggled with depression, I found 'Melancholia' to be a deeply affecting and well observed portrait of the condition - and as such it must rank as the filmmaker's most sincere work to date. Whilst 'Antichrist' was arguably a nihilistic, despairing outburst, 'Melancholia' is not merely depressing but about the experience of depression. With it Von Trier not only captures the feeling of being depressed but, crucially, captures the responses of others to a mental disorder that, like many others, is still not easily understood.



It'll no doubt test the patience of those unfamiliar with depression or lacking in empathy for someone with the condition. As Justine, Dunst is selfish, sulky, irrational, irresponsible and unfaithful - and all within the course her opulent wedding reception which takes up the opening chapter. Many will find her behaviour too frustrating to bear, though it's peerlessly well observed. As are the various reactions to it.

As her free-spirited, partying father, John Hurt avoids potentially depressing conversations with his daughter so as not to spoil his own mood, running away from his daughter at every turn. As the mother, Charlotte Rampling seemingly has her own problems with the illness: she has embraced a sort of hyper-rationalism that has robbed everything of joy and meaning, which is similar to Justine's own (literally) world-weary position later in the film. As her sister Claire, Charlotte Gainsbourg is condescending, unhelpfully terming Justine's lowest points as evidence of "causing a scene" and even expressing contempt for her. Meanwhile Claire's husband John, played by Kiefer Sutherland, thinks Justine is just a nuisance and potentially a destructive influence upon their young son Leo (Cameron Spurr).



Several characters seem to mistake Justine's mental state for an expression of want. Her well-meaning new husband (Alexander Skarsgård) buys her a plot of land where he claims the environment will make her happy. Claire and John believe the expensive wedding reception they have thrown her should raise more of a smile (John mentions more than once that his land hosts an 18 hole golf course). Her boss (Stellan Skarsgård) gifts her with a promotion during the occasion, but again this is not much of a boon. Here Von Trier's sharp sense of humour is in evidence as he satirises trite aspirations and our desperate attempts to give events meaning. Later Justine ridicules Claire's need for some sort of ceremony as the apocalypse nears, sarcastically suggesting they light candles and listen to classical music.

All of these interactions highlight popular, tragically Victorian misconceptions about mental illness: that it isn't illness at all but a failing of character or a sign of weakness. Justine's response is usually to find solitude, though she also takes comfort in the young Leo - presumably because he is not sitting in judgement of her. Justine's attempt at marriage doesn't survive the reception and, six months later, we find her no longer willing to fight this chronic sombreness and the film refocusses on Claire - now herself distraught by the threat posed by an oncoming planet.



It is not a spoiler to mention that the Earth is destroyed in 'Melancholia': it's an event that takes place (and quite majestically) at the very start of the film, with the human drama on the planet's surface played out as an extended flashback. The conceit here is that a hitherto unseen planet has come into view from its position behind our sun and is on a collision course with the Earth, though really this apocalypse forms part of an extended metaphor, emphasising the gloomy mental state of Justine and Claire. The planet serves as a great, oppressive weight pushing down on them throughout. The world outside Claire and John's impressive grounds is never seen and both attempts to leave (by horse and later by golf car) are halted by some unseen power, which I would suggest is representative of a depressive's tendency to sink into themselves and shun the outside world.

Von Trier has long been able to dazzle critics with his technique and 'Melancholia' is an immensely beautiful film, comprised of haunting and truly spectacular images from start to finish. Taken at face value the impending apocalypse plot is also dramatic and terrifying. But more significantly, what we have here is his most candid and revealing film. It's thought-provoking, personal, earnest and far less oblique than some of his previous work. It's a shame this movie has been overshadowed by those ill-advised and misjudged attempts at humour during that infamous press conference earlier this year that saw Cannes declare him "persona non grata". The Danish director occasionally seems to be his own worst enemy and 'Melancholia' leaves me in no doubt at all why that is. I haven't been able to get the film out of my head in the days since I saw it, making it easily the most powerful film of the year so far.

'Melancholia' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is out now in the UK.

'Drive' review:

It's been called an arthouse version of 'The Transporter', though Nicolas Winding Refn's thriller 'Drive' has much more in common with the cool Californian car chases of 'Bullitt' and the professional criminal tropes of Michael Mann (in particular 'Thief'). Despite a seemingly contemporary setting, the car stereo music, the shocking pink opening titles and star Ryan Gosling's racing jacket all give it a very strong 80s vibe. Though despite all this loving homage, it's very much a film from the Danish director of 'Bronson' and 'Valhalla Rising', with Refn favouring long takes, limited dialogue and short bursts of intense violence centred around one enigmatic male lead.

'Drive' is the story of Gosling's LA stuntman and part-time mechanic known in the script as Driver. Driver is a man of few words (Gosling's dialogue through the entire film wouldn't comfortably fill half a page), never racing to fill silences or even answer direct questions as he chews on a toothpick. His motivations aren't altogether clear, beyond wanting to protect/possess his attractive neighbour (Carey Mulligan) and her young son as they come under threat from a criminal gang, and neither are his origins. By the end of the film you may even wonder whether he is a person at all as opposed to some mythical force of nature. Whatever he is, he isn't a conventional good guy.



Even if you look past the fact he moonlights as a getaway driver for criminals, a day job that gets him into a whole lot of trouble with Ron Perlman's petulant Mafia boss, this is a guy who thinks nothing of threatening a woman with violence when his back is against the wall. And his shy, quiet demeanour is undeniably disturbing given his capacity for sudden ultra violence, with the character seeming more than a little unhinged - particularly as he caves a man's skull in with his boots whilst a horrified Mulligan looks on. Perhaps the character has been looking for a fight all along as he usually has a hammer handy and - under Refn's unflinching gaze - you never have any doubt that we will see him use it.

Ultimately though 'Drive' for all its charms feels like a triumph of style over substance. Gosling's blank slate protagonist offers nothing emotionally and equally thinly drawn supporting characters are archetypes elevated only by the calibre of actor asked to portray them: Albert Brooks, Christina Hendricks and Bryan Cranston are all excellent but have little to do, whilst Mulligan is just a bit wet throughout. However, there is no denying everything looks great, especially during the thrillingly choreographed car chase sequences, and the retro feel combined with the synthesizer heavy soundtrack is compelling. It isn't difficult to see why Refn won the best director prize at this year's Cannes Film Festival, as some of the individual shot choices are truly inspired, whilst his direction somehow manages to seem both nimble and meticulously composed.

'Drive' is rated '18' by the BBFC and is out now across the UK.

'Colombiana' review:

Before I start the review some blog housekeeping: I'm on holiday for the next week in Barcelona and so I won't be updating anything (here, twitter etc). I have lots of reviews and what-not up at What Culture in the coming days (wisely prepared in advance) so you won't miss me too much if you know where to look. In the meantime, if you're too lazy to look, here is a fawning feature I published today about my love of 'Jurassic Park'.



Our heroine is sexy. She is so sexy in fact that this is her defining character trait and sole redeeming quality. As a result she must be naked in every scene, or at least clad in some kind of skimpy catsuit. Within one barely five minute section of the movie you can see her do a sexy dance as she undresses in her apartment, before we cut to her naked in the shower, then cut to a shot of her polishing the barrel of a gun suggestively whilst sucking on a lollipop. The very next shot is of her aggressively dry-humping a man in his apartment in her lingerie.

This is a typical sequence from 'Colombiana', the hitman movie starring Zoe Saldana, directed by Olivier Megaton ('Transporter 3') and produced/co-written by Luc Besson. Saldana is a Colombian woman who lives to get revenge for the death of her parents at the hands of a stock evil Latino drug lord figure. We see her parents die in an overlong, extremely cumbersome sequence at the start of the film, which takes place in some very clean, colourful favelas and features the parkour stunts now associated with every Besson production since 'Taxi 2' and the 'District-13' films.



Anyway, as a girl Colombiana escapes the fate of her parents, running to America, where she vows revenge and trains as a killer for hire. We then cut to sometime in the future: she is a grown up hitman now and, as luck would have it, the drug mogul is living in the US, being sheltered by the CIA (for some reason). We're told that the lithe assassin has gone on a killing spree of late, killing 23 people to gain the attention of her nemesis, though as this figure increases baddie henchman are never included - because, you know, they're not people apparently, but cattle to be mown down.

Even if you ignore the terrible supporting actors (for whom English is surely not a first language), the bland cinematography (that basks everything in a sickly golden light) and the seen-it-before-done-better actions sequences: it's just a pretty nasty film and not very fun with it, compared to, say, the Besson-produced 'Transporter' series. Our hero is certainly not very nice and neither are the people she works with and purports to love. Yet the kills aren't particularly imaginative or cleverly staged either, borrowing liberally from the language of video games. Even when one villain - who we know is evil because he's fat, decadent and sleeping with big-booed models - is fed to some rubbish CGI sharks, the action fails to register even a raised eyebrow amongst the mediocrity. Even with sharks.



To make matters worse, Megaton (great name by the way) unwisely focusses a lot of time on a romance sub-plot, which whilst crucial for Colombiana's "character" (the tragic, isolated victim of her own revenge obsession) isn't very interesting and slows everything down. The film's misogyny is a similarly big mood killer. If you read physically strong women as strong female characters, then Colombiana is as powerful a female role model as they come. However, her male director/writers/producers have her firmly within their exploitative gaze.

I don't want to be misogynistic myself by implying overt female sexuality is always aimed at men: women enjoy sex and seeing sexy female characters, who can be wish fulfilment figures in the same way many men enjoy Bond. But this is unquestionably one for the lads, with other female characters (like the girl's mother) overshadowed in a film of earnest, inherently wise patriarchs. This is even more of a shame when you consider Besson has written some genuinely strong female characters across his career, from young Natalie Portman's breakout role in 'Leon', to his recent and winsome female Indiana Jones adventure story 'The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec'.

I'll say this for it though: 'Colombiana' has the strength of its convictions, with the film getting the down note finale its self-destructive character deserves.

'Colombiana' is out now and rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Warrior' and 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' interviews

Way back in June I was invited to see the Gavin O'Connor directed mixed martial arts drama 'Warrior' and interview the film's stars Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton. Both that interview and my review can be read over at What Culture.

More recently (Monday), I had the pleasure of interviewing Oscar winner Colin Firth about his role in upcoming Cold War ensemble 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy'. You can also read this interview, as well as another with the film's director Tomas Alfredson and screenwriter Peter Straughan, over at What Culture now.

I reviewed that film earlier in the week for this blog.

'Warrior'is released on September 23rd in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC. 'Tinker Tailor Solider Spy' has a '15' certificate and is out from Friday.

'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' review:

After years spent playing campy villains in Luc Besson movies and focus-stealing support characters in blockbusters, the great Gary Oldman stars in one of this year's most interesting and entertaining films: the 70s set Cold War thriller 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy'. Here the animated and charismatic actor is cast as an older man, giving a restrained and nuanced performance as retired British senior intelligence officer George Smiley - a man charged with investigating his former colleagues to find a Soviet mole at the top of "the circus" (the film's name for MI6). An impressive ensemble cast also includes John Hurt, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy, Mark Strong, Kathy Burke, Ciarán Hinds, Toby Jones as well as recent Academy Award winner Colin Firth.

Based on a best-selling novel by John le Carré, which was also subject to a fondly remembered 1979 BBC TV series staring Alec Guinness as Smiley, this adaptation has been helmed by the Swedish Tomas Alfredson, feted director of 2008 horror hit 'Let the Right One In'. Both films share Dutch cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema and along with him an austere, cold colour palette as well as the director's uncanny eye for period detail. On the way to uncovering the enemy informant, Smiley is shown sucking on Trebor mints and dining at a decidedly retro branch of Wimpy. But aside from being charming reminders of a time and place, these banal, slightly drab references also highlight one of this film's primary delights.



This is not a glossy, establishment picture of Britain we're being sold. It's a world very alien from that James Bond inhabits, as our spies juggle with mundane concerns and petty office politics as well as the very real risk of death at the hands of enemy agents. It's a film where our heroes spend most of the movie secretly investigating their friends and, in effect, battling their own government whilst (ironically) trying to catch out one charged with doing the same. Seldom have the words "we're not so very different you and I" seemed less like hollow cliche as they do here, as Smiley - not an idealist or ardent anti-communist by any standard - ponders on the moral equivalence of it all.

As with 'Let the Right One In', 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' has brief, brutal moments of bloody, visceral violence, but it's more concerned with characters and mood than it is about revelling in the pleasures of its given genre. Spy thrillers tend to place plot above all else, but this one is less about the Cold War, and the search for the traitor within the ranks of the circus, as it is about personal feelings of betrayal and isolation. Homosexuals forced to love in secret, shambolic marriages and private regrets are the real focus of this contemplative and moody slice of espionage intrigue.

'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy' is out in the UK from Friday (16th September)and is rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Post Mortem' review:

Chilean director Pablo Larrain's latest movie, 'Post Mortem', gets a limited UK release from today. This year's Venice Film Festival might be drawing to a close but this is one of those I saw last September on the Lido and reviewed it then for Obsessed with Film (now What Culture). I also sort of reviewed his first film 'Tony Manero' after seeing on TV last year. I highly recommend them both.

'Kill List' review:

Ben Wheatley's superior British horror 'Kill List' came out today and I've a review of it up on What Culture. If you want to hear what the 'Down Terrace' director had to say about the film, check out the recently recorded 64th Splendor Cinema Podcast.

I've just returned home to Brighton after two hype-filled days at one of the world's biggest consumer electronics shows - Berlin's IFA (Internationale Funkausstellung Berlin). I was there to look at Epson's freshly unveiled new line of home cinema projectors - which were very impressive indeed - and I'll be writing a full report on those for What Culture in the week. A splendid city, some exciting tech (including Sony's new handheld gaming console Vita and the affordable 3D PlayStation TV) and superior company made for an amazing last couple of days. It almost compensates for not being in Venice this time around!

'The Salt of Life' review:

A follow-up to the delightful Italian 2008 comedy 'Mid-August Lunch', 'The Salt of Life' finds middle-aged Gianni - played by writer-director Gianni Di Gregorio - again struggling to juggle his own life with caring for his demanding 95 year-old mother (Valeria De Franciscis). Di Gregorio again populates his cast with a mix of professionals and non-actors, whilst Gian Enrico Bianchi continues to capture Rome as the eternally sunny and effortlessly charming place of Mediterranean idyll.

But whilst last time Gianni was unmarried, living in a Rome apartment with his mother, this semi-sequel sees the elderly scamp frittering away his inheritance in a gated mansion with hired help, whilst he resides with a wife and a moody teenage daughter, Teresa (played by his real-life daughter of the same name). And rather than revolving around his catering for a group of bickering old ladies, this equally gentle and bittersweet comedy takes a look at mid-life crisis as Gianni ponders his fading relevance in the eyes of the opposite sex and increasing feeling of disconnect from the younger generation - as typified by Teresa's aimless live in boyfriend Michi (Michelangelo Ciminale).



Determined not to become one of the weird old characters he sees discussing football sitting out on the pavement or walking their dog alone in the park, Gianni pursues a number of the beautiful women in his life: among then an affectionate, spirited neighbour; a former flame; and a recently divorced opera singer. Being an Italian film, whether or not Gianni succeeds in having an extra-marital affair with one of these gorgeous, buxom women is not a pressing moral concern (his daughter even jokes about it), instead it forms the basis of a touching and, in the true sense of the word, pathetic portrayal of desperation, mortality and our common need to be desired.

With its star a screenwriter by trade - the scribe of no less than the hard-hitting modern mafia classic 'Gamorrah' - and with his adoption of a loose autobiographical persona, Di Gregorio's movies to date feel something like an Italian version of Larry David's 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'. Which is not to say they revolve around the comedy of social awkwardness and pedantry, but that on show is a low-key, mundane sort of humour with Gianni very much the butt of life's joke. Yet for all it's poignancy it shares with its predecessor a breezy and joyful spirit that can't help but put a smile on your face.


'The Salt of Life' is on limited release in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'The Skin I Live In' review:

Nothing if not provocative, the cinema of Pedro Almodovar is a frank and blackly comic exploration of taboo subjects told with an uncommon compassion for even the most depraved of characters. His latest work, 'The Skin I Live In', fits in comfortably alongside his best, with a warped tale of mad scientists, drugs, revenge, rape, voyeurism, kidnapping and murder fizzing along with no small amount of humour - or indeed humanism.

The director's one-time muse Antonio Banderas returns to the repertory company to star in this suspenseful, almost Hitchcockian thriller which superficially resembles their last collaboration, 1990s 'Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!' - with the actor again caught up in a romance with one held against her will in a locked room.



However 21 years on, this dangerous obsessive is not a clownish, naive innocent, but a clinical and effortlessly sophisticated scientist who dedicates himself towards bio-engineering a replacement for human skin in his subterranean lab after his burns victim wife commits suicide. This time the lady falling prey to Stockholm syndrome is played by Elena Anaya ('Hierro') and her situation, identity and relationship with Banderas form an intriguing mystery as the expertly constructed plot takes many twists and turns - equal parts disturbing and exciting right up to the climax.

This is one of those times when to say any more about the story would be to reveal too much, as part of its appeal lies in the filmmaker's gift for misdirection and surprise [listen to episode 65 of the Splendor Cinema Podcast for a spoiler-ridden discussion about these themes and twists], so instead I'll just add to the chorus praising Almodovar's breathtakingly sumptuous use of colour and his masterful command of the camera - with some especially majestic zooms as he has fun with a security camera motif.



Really ingenious though is the way replacement skin - and the real-world medical marvel of face transplants - is used as a device to explore notions of identity. How much we're defined by the skin we're in is the film's existential point of crisis. And it's a compelling one, which culminates in a heartfelt and dramatic pay-off.

When reviewing so-called "World Cinema" you often encounter brilliant films - works of genius and even really great pieces of entertainment - that you know stand next to no chance of reaching a wide audience. For most 'Of Gods and Men' would be far too austere and ponderous, whilst even 'Tree of Life' was far too esoteric for the crowds that flocked to see "that Brad Pitt movie". Yet 'The Skin I Live In' has such tremendous, heartening potential for cross-over appeal, thanks to its tight, well-paced and surprise-filled story. It's never less than engaging for a single frame and, with its ruminations on identity and moral complexity (to put it lightly), must also rank among the year's most intelligent and thought-provoking films.


'The Skin I Live In' is out now in the Uk where it has been rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Attenberg', Blu-ray reviews and 'The Skin I Live In' podcast...

Greek oddity 'Attenberg' is out now in the UK. I don't have much memory of it beyond the fact that it was jeered as the credits rolled in Venice last year, and you can read my review of it from last September on What Culture here. It wasn't all that bad I seem to recall (and I think the actress won a prize from the festival jury) but it just left me completely cold. It's a lot like an inferior version of 'Dogtooth' in form and theme, with childlike grown-ups whose unworldly naivete gives rise to some strangely expressed sexual curiosity and odd alternative dance. Nicely shot, mind.

Also up today, reviews of the Blu-ray editions of Jow Wright's stunning 'Hanna' and the Coen Brothers' seminal 'Miller's Crossing'.

Check back tomorrow for my take on Pedro Almodovar's thrilling, disturbing and beautifully realised 'The Skin I Live In' (released last Friday), which is also the subject of the most recent Splendor Cinema Podcast.

'The Inbetweeners Movie' review:

British TV comedies making the transition to feature films have a track record that could charitably be characterised as less than stellar. 'The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse', 'Ali G Indahouse' and 'Kevin & Perry Go Large' are just some examples of what can go wrong when perfectly decent telly fodder gets inflated for the big screen. On paper at least, this year's blown-up cinema edition of Channel Four sitcom 'The Inbetweeners' - which comes with the no-nonsense title: 'The Inbetweeners Movie' - would seem to be following the same dreary trend, especially as it uses the tired "let's take the characters abroad" concept as the basis of its story.

Yet Film Four have bucked the trend winsomely with Ben Palmer - a director of the original series - presiding over what amounts to a high-quality bumper episode of the show. The film maintains a strong gag ratio as well as the astute character observations that serve as the series' best moments, all without jumping the shark in some bombast, hi-octane fashion. It's a consistently funny 97 minutes which sees Will (Simon Bird), Simon (Joe Thomas), Jay (James Buckley) and Neil (Blake Harrison) leave sixth form and embark on a sun-soaked summer holiday in Crete with the familiar aim of getting drunk and getting laid.



However, as anyone who's spent even minimal time in these characters' company before will know, our "heroes" aren't the coolest kids from their school. Jay talks a good game about sexual encounters, but is actually the most shy of the bunch when confronted with the "pussay" he so craves. Bespectacled Will, who again also serves as the narrator, talks himself into trouble at every turn with his boundless pedantry. Whilst Simon is as love-sick and self-involved as ever, especially now that his on-again off-again relationship with Carli (Emily Head) has hit the rocks indefinitely. Only shameless dim-wit Neil is without an obvious personality defect, in a strange way serving as the member of the group with the most appealing world view - even coming across as a good-natured innocent as he performs grotesque sex acts on game OAPs.

The Brits abroad setting allows for the digs at package holiday culture you might expect, but the film takes great pleasure in subverting clichés rather than conforming to them. The attractive girls who instantly and improbably fall for the boys are never treated as tacky FHM eye-candy either (with the vast majority of screen nudity being male) and the dynamic between the four main guys remains as engaging as ever. The actors might be in their mid-late twenties, but 'The Inbetweeners' has always been a far more realistic depiction of youth than we're used to seeing in the sexed-up, hyper-cool world of American "High School" films, or Channel Four's own 'Skins'.

Various narrative norms are also subverted to great effect, with each potential moment of sincere romantic feeling or dramatic heft immediately undercut with humour. This is a balls-out comedy that never pushes the dramatic envelope any further than its audience wants to go. It's content to entertain you, though that's not to say that the touching vulnerability of the four guys doesn't still shine through in a movie which always has its heart in the right place however crass and puerile it gets.

'The Inbetweeners Movie' is out in the UK now, rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Spy Kids: All the Time in the World in 4D' review:

It's been almost a decade since Robert Rodriquez seemed to conclude his 'Spy Kids' trilogy with 'Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over', with the stories of Juni and Carmen Cortez (Daryl Sabara and Alexa Vega) reaching their conclusion in a star-studded adventure presented in crude anaglyph 3-D. Yet with the current trend in 3D, the series has returned with 'Spy Kids: All the Time in the World in 4D': with new kids - Cecil and Rebecca Wilson (played by Mason Cook and Rowan Blanchard) - a Ricky Gervais voiced talking dog and scratch and sniff "aroma-scope" serving as the titular fourth dimension.

The now-adult Sabara and Vega return to provide some welcome continuity, but with a new family the focus of proceedings, this fourth installment sees Jessica Alba cast as Marissa: a spy step-mom, struggling to connect with Cecil and Rebecca after marrying their father (Joel McHale) and retiring from the espionage trade to raise her newborn baby girl. But when an old nemesis - Tick Tock - escapes prison and seeks to destroy the world by ending time itself, Marissa is brought back into the fold by her old boss, played by the charismatic Jeremy Piven. Piven clearly relishes his role, approaching it with the same enthusiasm that saw the likes of Stallone, Clooney and Buscemi provide such entertaining turns in the original trilogy.



Much of the good-natured, joyously naive spirit of those first films remains intact here, as does the franchise's penchant for earnest, if slightly heavy-handed, moralising about the importance of family. And though Mason and Blanchard never quite recreate the chemistry of the original kids, it's difficult to watch the movie without a smile on your face. Rodriquez admirably continues his own Miyazaki-esque trend for humanising the major bad guys, whilst his decision to give one of the heroes (Cecil) a hearing aid - not to mentioning showing a heavily pregnant Alba confidently kicking ass - also reinforces the overall positive vibe of the piece.

Not only do Rodriquez children's films not talk down to the intended young audience but they don't talk up to them either. The films are aimed squarely and shamelessly at children with next to no concession for adults. It's an imaginative, wish-fulfillment fantasy and the showing I was at was packed with kids - mostly under 10s - who absolutely howled with delight whenever a baby farted or Gervais' comedy dog made a sarcastic observation. He knows this audience and delivers exactly what they want, with even the scratch and sniff gimmick (and I'm sure even he would admit it's exactly that) going down a storm with youngsters. It would seem somewhat churlish and meaningless to point out that all eight fragrances ultimately smell the same: it's hardly the point.



Even the slightly outdated DIY CGI that has become part and parcel of Rodriquez's campy house style and the poorly choreographed fight scenes (which play like something out of TVs slapstick 'Lazy Town' rather than 'El Mariachi') add to the atmosphere of a movie that really is just innocent, imaginative fun in the best possible sense. The scenes following Joel McHale's dad character as host of TV show "Spy Hunter" feel out of place, falling completely flat, and toilet humour reins supreme, but the 'Spy Kids' movies still represent far and away the best live action films that cater specifically to this age group of the last ten years.

'Spy Kids: All the Time in the World in 4D' is out now in the UK and rated 'PG' by the BBFC.

'In a Better World' review:

During Danish Oscar winner 'In a Better World', a child decides to put a violent, school yard bully firmly in his place by beating him senseless with a bicycle pump and then holding a knife to his throat. Now that I see that written here in black and white, it sounds more than slightly sick to say I outwardly cheered with delight at this moment. I'm not even a fan of screen violence but, as someone who was bullied at school, I experience a visceral, instinctive hatred of bullying when I see it on a cinema screen.

Now, if this were, say, a Tarantino film or a vigilante movie like 'Kick-Ass' I would probably be encouraged to allow the violence to take on this disturbing therapeutic quality. Yet the journey the bereaved and angry young Christian (William Jøhnk Nielsen) subsequently goes on - building pipe bombs in his garage as his response to perceived social injustices becomes increasingly violent - is one that ensures this first act is robbed of any trace of glamour or anti-heroism that it might have otherwise had.



Director Susanne Bier, best known for 2004 drama 'Brothers' (re-made in the US with Natalie Portman), has made a rare and complex film about the nature of conflict and violence, which uses its characters to explore a range of ways people justify violent acts and the way that violence becomes a perpetuated cycle. The link isn't explicitly made but, just as an example, Bier's film is as much about the situation in Palestine (or even that of the recent "rioters" versus the UK government) as it is about individuals and this small cast of characters.

Christian lost his mother to cancer and is filled with rage, accusing his father, Claus (Ulrich Thomsen), of giving up and wanting her to die. He identifies bullies as targets he can actually fight, probably so he doesn't have to keep feeling so helpless. His meek, gentle Swedish friend Elias (Markus Rygaard) goes along for the ride chiefly because he has been included - because he wants to please his new friend and because he now belongs to a small social enclave where previously he was an outcast.



Elias' status as an outsider comes from his being foreign: the son of a Swedish immigrant to Denmark - and it is this that arbitrarily motivates the school bully to pick on him. Here we see an example of violence against those who are different and the way a sort of tribal mentality can take hold (in every case violence is a feeble outward expression of some interior inadequacy). His Swedish father, Anton (Mikael Persbrandt), is a doctor who works in a Sudanese refugee camp. He (literally) turns the other cheek when attacked, advising both children to do likewise, but ultimately his principles are tested when a local war lord comes to the camp asking for treatment.

Somewhere a line is drawn in the sand, the suggestion being that we all have our limits: a personal boundary past which acts of violence and revenge become acceptable. For Anton it is the war lord's shameless gloating about acts of sexualised violence that sends him over the edge, though even then the momentary decision to abandon his most deeply held moral principle - that a doctor should treat those in need regardless of who they are - comes with a certain degree of trauma and regret.



It takes much less for the boys to call Anton's code into question. When an angry mechanic (Kim Bodnia) slaps the doctor for trying to break up a fight involving their sons, the children aren't convinced his pacifist approach is working. Elias later calls his father a "wimp" for walking away from conflict and, when Anton claims the guy lost the argument because he couldn't intimate using violence, Christian responds "I don't think he thought he lost."

Here is an expression of another disquieting yet commonly held truth: that one's own conviction in a moral code is not enough. The children here express a need to win and win unambiguously in public. A need to get the better of one who has wronged them, which is pointless and counter-productive - for society at least, even if the individual might find some satisfaction. 'In a Better World' is a powerful rebuttal to Old Testament "eye for an eye" logic even if it also seems resigned to its inescapable place in our collective psyche.



It's beautifully photographed and the human drama here is compelling and well acted, with the child actors especially strong, but the film is best taken more generally as a polemic. By having the central characters a mix of Danish and Swedish - and by making Anton spend much of the film dealing with similar ethical concerns (admittedly on a much more harrowing scale) in Africa - Bier highlights that this is a universal story. That she tells this larger human story without the sort of self-importance and contrived narrative histrionics common to Guillermo Arriaga films makes it all the more rewarding.

'In a Better World' is out now in the UK and rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'The Guard' review:

I reviewed Irish black comedy 'The Guard' back in February when it played in Berlin. I thought it was a highlight of that festival (one of three or four stand-out films) and it has since justly gone on to do really good business in Ireland prior to its UK-wide release yesterday.

Written and directed by John Michael McDonagh, brother of 'In Bruges' helmer Martin, 'The Guard' shares that film's irreverent sense of humour and brilliant co-star Brendan Gleeson. He's joined here by Don Cheadle who plays the American FBI agent summoned to Gleeson's rural cop beat in Ireland, where the mismatched duo attempt to solve a drug-related homicide case. It's a culture clash comedy that never pulls its punches, though nor is it ever needlessly offensive even if some might praise the script for a perceived lack of so-called "political correctness".

It perhaps lacks the heartfelt sincerity of that other film, but 'The Guard' is every bit as funny and shocking as its cinematic cousin.

Read my full review here.

'The Guard' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is out now in the UK.