'Sightseers', 'Amour': review round-up, plus Special Ben Wheatley Interview Podcast!

Quick update with a couple of short reviews, but first I wanted to flag up the fact that the latest Splendor Cinema podcast is an interview with 'Sightseers' and 'Kill List' director Ben Wheatley. iTunes subscribers can get that now, whilst it will take a few days before it's uploaded to sound cloud (and streamable from this blog).

The interview was recorded during a Q+A I conducted with Wheatley following a rare screening of his debut feature 'Down Terrace' at Brighton's new cinema Duke's @ Komedia. It was the first such event hosted at the new venue and I was honoured to be able to host it. During the Q+A, the director talks about all three of his already released features as well as next year's 'A Field in England' and a few others besides.

Anyway. Reviews.

'Sightseers' - Dir. Ben Wheatley (15)
The pitch-black humour of this British comedy - about a resolutely ordinary, working-class couple on a caravanning holiday around Yorkshire who become serial killers - will come as no surprise to those familiar with the directors other films. 'Sightseers' finds Wheatley's by now traditional mix of the mundane and the ultra-violent, all with a low-key, sardonic sensibility. It's a film in which people's heads are staved in with visceral, cover-your-eyes detail only for the perpetrators to bemoan that their ghastly crime has "ruined the tram museum" for them now. Other gems in a smart and quotable screenplay include "he's a pig in clothes, Chris" and "he's not a human being, he's a Daily Mail reader"! It's a terrifically funny hour and a half that should build a lasting following over the years to come, in no small part due to the performances of co-writers Alice Lowe and Steve Oram, who create a memorable screen duo.

Like the two Ben Wheatley films that preceded it, 'Sightseers' could appear cold, cynical and nihilistic to some. However, the unease the director makes you feel at each killing, quickly making you question each knee-jerk laugh, shows to my mind a sort of humanism that elevates the material even further. The characters themselves maybe glib about killing and dismissive of their victims, but Wheatley's handling of each act is certain to have you torn awkwardly between horror and laughter - with no act of violence seeming to lack consequence (on friends and loved ones, if not the happy murderers).

'Amour' - Dir. Michael Haneke (12A)
Michael Haneke's previous Palme d'Or winning film film, 'The White Ribbon', was one of my favourites of that year. And though his follow-up also snagged that prestigious prize, 'Amour' is not in the same weight class - either in the way it's been made or in terms of narrative. It's a smaller film with a more intimate feel and a subject matter that - whilst huge in that it deeply effects each and every one of us - feels much more personal. As such the movie is fittingly filmed around one location - several rooms of a nice Parisian apartment - and features only a half-dozen actors, focussing for the most part around only two: an elderly couple hauntingly played by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva.

It's an accomplished film, perhaps slightly over long, but boasting terrific lead performances and painting a very complex and non-judgemental picture of both a terminally ill woman wishing to die and her distraught, occasionally rash husband - who, in one tough scene, is driven so angry by her refusal to take food that he strikes her frail and immobile body. Yet this is overall a story about love, or rather which seems to redefine love or at least view it through a different lens. It's the final days of a couple who, it seems safe to assume, have lead happy and successful lives together, and yet we focus on a man caring for his sick wife and dealing with uncaring nurses and unwanted visitors (including the couple's demanding daughter, played by Isabelle Huppert). Haneke seems to be saying this is what love is, that everything else is perhaps the build up to this the greatest test of affection and, in a sense, romance.

It's a film called love in which, at least as far as I can recall, nobody says "I love you" or shows anything like passion. But 'Amour' is unmistakably a love story. Even if it's a troubling and depressing one without a solitary shred of hope! A terrific film, and an important one, but the scope and technical prowess of Haneke's previous instant classic (perhaps unfairly) casts an inescapable shadow over this more modest endeavour.

'The Master' review:

Aside from general tardiness, the reason I have taken so long to review 'The Master' - in spite of the fact I made sure I saw it first thing on the day of release - is because I haven't been entirely sure what to make of it. I make no secret of the fact that director Paul Thomas Anderson's 'Punch-Drunk Love' is my favourite film, which means watching the filmmaker's first feature since the almost equally brilliant 'There Will Be Blood' comes with a certain weight of expectation and a desire on my part to avoid a reactionary response which I might regret later! Mostly because I suspected (and continue to suspect) that his latest is a film which will gain a lot from repeated viewings.

'The Master' is not, at least to my mind, an immediately gratifying film. There are immediately gratifying elements, to be sure - the cinematography and Anderson's use of camera is one of the most obvious, as are the two central performances - but this story-light script is much more of a character study and exploration of various themes (such as religion as institutionalism and whether it is truly possible to be your own master). There's nothing wrong with that at all, and in fact the most interesting films are usually about characters rather than a narrative sequence of events, but 'The Master' takes this to an extreme, with very little happening outside of its broader exploration of themes.

The story boils down to: a mentally troubled man (the chameleon-like Jaoquin Phoenix) leaves the Navy after WWII and finds it difficult to maintain a job or relationship upon his return home. Circumstances lead to a chance encounter with a charismatic cult leader (Philip Seymour Hoffman), whose sheer force of personality and assumed place of authority subdue Phoenix and make him feel as though he belongs, becoming the cult's least questioning acolyte, intolerant of the slightest criticism of Hoffman and given to violence against perceived enemies of The Cause (a clear analogue of Scientology). Things happen, of course, but they aren't presented as a series of cause and effect events. Rather, various encounters between Phoenix and Hoffman, and all the incidents in between, serve as vehicles to explore the film's themes. Making it a difficult but potentially rewarding watch.

Hoffman's every mannerism and intonation is inspired, with the master already one of his best characters, whilst his customary ability to switch from gentility to rage is exploited here to its very best, and it's his scenes opposite the quiet, unhinged menace of Phoenix that are the film's clear highlight. In fact an interrogation scene between the two and their final scene together at the end - in which Hoffman delivers a truly brilliant monologue - are among the best individual scenes Anderson has ever filmed. Meanwhile Jonny Greenwood again provides the score, which whilst not as visceral and consistently unsettling as his work on 'There Will Be Blood' (or Jon Brion's mesmeric score for 'Punch-Drunk Love') is still one of the year's best.

I'll return to this film in the near future and will probably come back to talk about it some more when it's clearer in my own mind. In the meantime, it goes without saying that it's worth seeing and a masterpiece in so many ways, even if I'm not yet certain how great it is overall.

'The Master' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is on general release now in the UK.

'On the Road' review:

When Walter Salles' coming of age road movie 'The Motorcycle Diaries' came out nearly a decade ago I would have still been a teenager. Full of idealism and youthful enthusiasm - eager to help change the world and still certain that anything was possible. I only had to want it. That's probably why I loved that movie at the time. I haven't seen it since, but it's frozen in my memory not only as something hopeful, optimistic and humanistic, but also as a very fine piece of filmmaking. I'd hesitate to watch it again though, in my current state as a bitterly disappointed old man, as Salles' similarly themed 'On the Road' - in spite of some similar ingredients and equally luscious cinematography - left me bored and irritated.

Likewise inspired by a revolutionary autobiographical novel and set during a time of youth-powered social change, 'On the Road' is, of course, based on Jack Kerouac's generation defining book of the same name, with Sam Riley playing author surrogate Sal. 'Tron: Legacy' star Garrett Hedlund plays his wild and charismatic friend Dean (one of cinema's all-time assholes), whilst an impressive supporting cast, that includes Kirsten Dunst, Viggo Mortensen, Terrence Howard, Elizabeth Moss, Steve Buscemi, Alice Braga, Amy Adams and Kristen Stewart, portray the various drifters and oddballs they encounter on their various trips across the breadth of the US - from California to New York.

This isn't a movie about one uneventful road trip of empty hedonism in the company of unconscionable douchebags, but a movie containing a half-dozen such interminable cross-country jaunts. It's the tale of a non-entity following around a horrible jerk, laughing at his jokes and trying to so hard be his best friend. If it weren't for some of the supporting players, the whole thing would be as unwatchable as it is overlong. There is only so much time you can spend willingly in the company of self-important hipsters as they drink and drive and screw. The characters are having a far better time than the audience, that's for sure. Towards the end of the film Sal begins to write down the events of the past several hours on his typewriter, frantically getting down every detail of Dean and his wild exploits. "Thank heavens he wrote all this down!" I thought to myself. It'd have been such a shame if the world never knew that all this happened.

Am I simply too old and jaded for this story of young people being all-young-and-stuff? Would I feel the same about that earlier film if I saw it today as a 27 year-old? Or is Salles' latest simply the hollow and vain thing it seems to be? I would like to think the latter, but there is no way of knowing until I revisit 'The Motorcycle Diaries'. Something 'On the Road' has ensured I am loath to do any time soon.

'Frankenweenie' review:

Like a lot of cinephiles, I've fallen out of love with Tim Burton. I still go to see everything he makes, but these days it's more out of duty than expectation. Sort of like spending an entire afternoon in the dingy kitchen of an old, racist relative. Yet Burton's latest project, a stop-motion feature film version of his own well-received 1984 live-action short, wears the director's distinctive stamp more comfortably than anything else he's made in a long while. This monochrome looking animation, about a boy (called Victor Frankenstein) who brings his dead dog back to life with electricity, flaunts the Gothic horror aesthetic that has become the director's stamp is in full force. Needless to say, Danny Elfman provides the score.

There are echoes of Burton's older (and better) films throughout. Vincent's own campy attempt at filmmaking recalls 'Ed Wood', whilst the juxtaposition of Burton's self-styled oddness with clean-cut American suburbia is like something out of 'Edward Scissorhands'. Look closely and there are even possible nods to 'Mar Attacks!' and 'Batman' amongst smaller visual details. And, of course, the stop-motion form itself brings to mind 'Corpse Bride' and 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' (for which he provided the story and look, though Henry Selick directed). However, as nice as it is to be reacquainted with the look and feel of why we all fell in love with his films in the first place, 'Frankenweenie' also suffers by the association.

There are moments of greatness but mostly the whole thing feels like a reasonably accurate YouTube cover version of a song you loved a decade earlier. It means well and it's certainly difficult to actively dislike, but 'Frankenweenie' is mostly just quite boring, when you delve beyond the often stunning visuals and extremely polished animation. Burton has always, often unfairly, attracted criticism for being a visual stylist with am ambivalence towards storytelling, and here that's definitely true. The characters, story - a fourth-hand take on Mary Shelley's novel (if you consider this comes via classic horror movies and Burton's earlier short) - and message (standard "listen to your heart" kids-film-by-numbers stuff) are all less than inspiring and struggle to hold interest.

Worse still, the film seems - in some vague, half-hearted way - to be trying to teach kids how to deal with grief. And yet the ending completely undermines this supposed point, with a last-minute reversal. It feels flatter still if compared to another recent stop-motion children's horror: 'ParaNorman', in which references to old films and horror tropes come out of the characters. In 'Frankenweenie' the characters don't exist outside of being hokey references to horror tropes. After seeing 'Dark Shadows' earlier this year I commented that Burton's characters now seemed like Halloween costumes first and people a distant second, and that's sadly also the case here. The frustrating thing is that the man who bought us 'Beetlejuice' is clearly still in there somewhere, but in a way that makes 'Frankenweenie' even worse than 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' or the wholly risible 'Alice in Wonderland', in that it so knowingly invites direct comparison to those glory days and without substance.

'Frankenweenie' is out now in the UK, rated 'PG' by the BBFC.

'Hotel Transylvania', 'Liberal Arts' and 'About Elly': review round-up

'Hotel Transylvania' - Dir. Genndy Tartakovsky (U)
Of the current glut of monster-themed animations released in time for Halloween, 'Hotel Transylvania' probably looks the least appealing at a first glance - with neither the Disney/Tim Burton polish and ready-made fanbase of 'Frankenweenie' or the Laika Studios, stop-motion kudos of the amazing 'ParaNorman'. By contrast this is a flat and bog-standard looking CGI animation from Sony, boasting the voice talents of Adam Sandler - as Dracula: proprietor of a hotel for monsters where the misunderstood creatures can be safe from human intolerance. However, closer inspection reveals there is far more of interest here than first meets the eye, even if the film itself can't rise far about meagre expectations.

For starters, the screenplay is co-written by Peter Baynham, whose work with Chris Morris, Armando Iannuccci, Steve Coogan and Lee and Herring made his a key voice in British alternative comedy and whose most notable job as a screenwriter to-date was last year's extremely funny Aardman animation 'Arthur Christmas'. Then there's the director - Genndy Tartakovsky - whose name may not be immediately familiar to all, but whose work in animation will be well-known to most of a certain generation. Tartakovsky was one of the key figures behind all the great Cartoon Network shows of the 90s, working on such favourites as 'Dexter's Laboratory' and 'The Powerpuff Girls', as well as creating the celebrated 'Samurai Jack' and the original 'Star Wars: Clone Wars' cartoon - which is the single best thing to have any connection with Lucas' prequels.

Sadly Tartakovsky's distinctive visual style can only be seen in glimpses here, notably in some of the character designs, but it's still nice to see him move to the big screen and one can only hope that the commercial success of this one could lead him to better things. Yet 'Hotel Transylvania' itself isn't an amazing film - either as a showcase of animation or storytelling. It certainly isn't in the same league as Sony's own 'Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs' and doesn't hold a candle to Tartakovsky's more auteurist TV work. But it is, thanks largely to Baynham, occasionally very funny and what it lacks in polish it makes up for in charm.

'Liberal Arts' - Dir. Josh Radnor (12A)
Interminable tosh of the highest order, 'Liberal Arts' - starring, directed by and written by Josh Radnor - is an extremely smug rom-com about a man in his mid-30s who returns to his old college campus and falls in love with a student called Zibby (Elizabeth Olsen). Yes, it's the sort of American Indie movie where manic pixie dream girls called Zibby run around falling in love with punchable, naval-gazing author insert fantasy characters. But worse is the fact that Radnor wastes an excellent supporting cast that includes Richard Jenkins and Allison Janney.

For something that so self-consciously longs to be seen as intellectual - with Woody Allen style credits, frequent references to classical music and literature - the film is incredibly dumb. Everything about how Radnor writes relationships feels trite ("sex is complicated!"), based on watching a marathon of 'Dawson's Creek' rather than born of actual experience. Metaphors are heavy-handed and over-extended throughout, while the film frequently gets very cheesy indeed, with one scene in particular playing like a parody of a parody of the 'Dead Poet's Society' episode of 'Community', but without any trace of irony. It's all extremely false and forced and hard to stomach. The college experience, as seen here, is not populated by characters but broad stereotypes that might as well have been stolen from one thousand other lazy American college comedies. Case in point: Zac Efron as the stoner.

There is one good scene with Allison Janney, but otherwise it would be charitable to describe 'Liberal Arts' as a train-wreck. The spoiler-adverse might want to stop reading, but I'd like to give a specific example that sums up how badly written this movie is. During the final stages Radnor realises that Olsen is too young for him (yes, the film is also judgemental and conservative about its central premise) and begins seeing a lady his own age from the local bookshop. As they sit on the floor of the bookstore, during some sort of bizarre after-hours lock-in, with piles of open books all around them, the lady says something like "I love to read" and Radnor responds that he does too. No? Really? The woman in the bookshop likes to read? And the man who spent the entire film talking about books and being obnoxious about Twilight (though without ever saying its name, like a coward) also likes to read?! There is no bit of information - however obvious or small - Radnor feels comfortable to leave unsaid, such is his respect for the audience.

'About Elly' - Dir. Asghar Farhadi (12A)
Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi's recent international acclaim, with last year's Golden Bear and Oscar winning 'A Separation', has ensured his previous feature - 2009's 'About Elly' - a limited UK release. Which is a good thing, because it's every bit as good as the director's follow-up: naturalistic acting from a terrific ensemble cast, rich, three dimensional characters who behave consistently and whose differing moral positions are portrayed with empathy, and a tight story which wrings the most moral head-scratching and human drama from a simple set-up.

Here we follow a group of middle-class friends from Tehran as they go on a weekend getaway to the seaside, bringing along a relative stranger - Elly (Taraneh Alidoosti) - in order to introduce her to their recently divorced friend. However, when Elly goes missing (presumed drowned), the group is forced to confront how little they really knew about their guest. There are moral dilemmas and grave twists that will be familiar to those who saw 'A Separation' (in a good way) and, like much contemporary Iranian cinema, the film is rich with social critique for those willing to look below the surface.

On the most recent Splendor Cinema podcast (#109) I likened this craftily hidden critique in Farhadi's films to Spielberg's 'Jaws' in that what makes both so compelling is found in what they are not allowed/able to show the audience. In 'Jaws' Spielberg can not show you the shark. CGI was not available then and a rubber monster would have looked stupid, so John Williams' score and clever camerawork fill in for the beast. And it's probably his best movie, even though he has since been able to do whatever he wants and with all the money and technology in the world. In short: artists seem to work better with strict limitations than with complete freedom. That's why some of the best Hollywood films were made during the Hays Code years or at the height of the HUAC. Likewise, Farhadi and his peers can not openly discuss gender inequality, for instance, so they tell us stories that stand on their own merits but which are incredibly detailed and textured when studied up close. Farhadi can't show you the shark, but he sure knows how to imply the shit out of one. One of the best films I've seen this year, without doubt.

'ParaNorman', 'Killing Them Softly', 'Holy Motors' and 'Looper': review round-up

Going to Spain for a week tomorrow, so this'll have to be a(nother) quick round-up affair of the films I've caught over the last week...

'ParaNorman' - Dir. Sam Fell and Chris Butler (PG)
Truly special. This stop-motion animated feature from Laika - the chaps who produced the almost equally great 'Coraline' - is one of the best films of the year. The story of an unpopular, small town boy with the power to see and speak to the dead, the titular Norman (Kodi Smit-McPhee), this horror-comedy is riotously funny, beautifully animated and accompanied by a lovely Jon Brion score (is there any other kind?!). It's also unexpectedly emotional, with a progressive liberal politics at its heart which is extremely unusual for a mainstream American film - especially one primarily aimed at children. 'ParaNorman' isn't so much packed with "gags for the adults" a la Dreamworks, but instead pitches gags about sex (and sexuality), death and bigotry at the kids, confident they will be appreciated. Like all the very best children's movies, it doesn't speak down to its young audience.

The stunning character animation, detailed (and gloomily lit) scenery, clever script and well-cast voices would be enough to recommend the film, but the fact that it has such a delightful message - with the baddie ultimately being intolerance and fear of difference (rather than a nefarious person) - is what sets it apart. Especially as it has the strength of its convictions and seemingly none too worried about causing offence. The film is also terrifically well paced, with an economy of storytelling reminiscent of vintage Pixar.

'Killing Them Softly' - Dir. Andrew Dominik (18)
Following the uncontested brilliance of both 'Chopper' and 'The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford', New Zealand-born Australian Andrew Dominik cements his status as one of the most interesting directors working today with darkly comic crime drama 'Killing The Softly'. Though Brad Pitt is nominally the star, playing an ice-cold hitman with unsettling easy charm (much like the year's earlier 'Killer Joe'), it's really an ensemble piece, with each scene (almost without fail) revolving around two characters having a conversation. In a way, it's 'Coffee and Cigarettes' with some action and a tightly wound plot, but what it's most reminiscent of is a Coen Brothers film in the mould of 'Fargo' or 'No Country For Old Men' - having that same weight between humour (usually coming from how something is said rather than anything resembling a joke) and tension.

It's a phenomenally violent film in short bursts, though the emphasis is on characters having conversations - about sex, money and business - against the backdrop of the 2008 recession and Obama/McCain presidential election. The whole thing is, as you might expect from the man behind 'Jesse James', shot incredibly stylishly, though without fetishising violence - again, like a Coen movie, there is an abiding humanism. There are no strictly good or bad people, just opportunists, idiots and dispassionate businessmen for whom hiring a contract killer is greeted with a world-weary sigh. Here murder, adultery and theft are just good capitalism. 'Killing Them Softly' is a modern American fable.

'Holy Motors' - Dir. Léos Carax (18)
Something like a pretentious French arthouse version of Joss Whedon's TV series 'Dollhouse', 'Holy Motors' sees Denis Lavant in the Eliza Dushku role, as a man who spends his days playing a variety of characters for a living. Riding around Paris in a white limousine, Lavant applies various make-ups between his various extreme roles, with the audience never really getting a glimpse of who he really is. It plays like a collection of bizarre, unrelated short films and, ultimately, it's exactly as involving as that sounds.

There's a sequence where Kylie Minogue sings a wistful song to Lavant on a rooftop, which is possibly a hint at the "real life" of his character but which is arguably more theatrical than anything else we see. There's a scene where he, as a dirty vagrant from the sewers, abducts an American model, played by Eva Mendes. In another chapter he's cast as a Ray Park style movie fight choreographer, providing green screen motion capture for what might be a freaky CGI animated horror-porn film.

It all sounds more exciting and funny on paper than it really is. It is at least visually striking, in a way that sometimes recalls Jeunet (the earlier, darker stuff), and boasts an undeniably compelling lead, yet 'Holy Motors' left me cold and wondering what it all amounted to beyond the trite observation that we are but actors playing parts.

'Looper' - Dir. Rian Johnson (15)
A time travel, sci-fi, action blockbuster from the maker of 'Brick' (and... um 'The Brothers Bloom') Rian Johnson, 'Looper' sees Joseph Gordon Levitt living in the US in 2043, where he works as a future hitman, responsible for killing people sent back in time by the future mob, from thirty years in his future when time travel is invented and when the bodies of the murdered are apparently harder to get rid of. And it's all going swimmingly for him - up to his eyeballs in drugs and prostitutes - until one day he's faced with having to kill his own future self, as played by Bruce Willis. After (spoiler warning) failing to kill his elder self, Levitt ends up on the run from his employers and becomes determined to correct his mistake and get his self-centred life back. However, Willis starts him on a course that will change his future and ultimately help him grow as a person. Awww.

The central character arc is very nicely played out, with younger Levitt-Willis and older Willis-Levitt hating each other in a way that is interesting. The elder version thinks his younger self is stupid and selfish, whilst the younger one wants this balding old man to, like, shut up and die already. It's also true that Johnson writes some quite clever new ideas into his time travel rules, even if a lot of what's going on makes no sense and requires total suspension of disbelief (it's very quickly impossible to imagine how the film's convoluted central premise could be a convenient solution to any problem). For instance, why is it that these hitmen (Loopers) are asked to assassinate their future selves ("closing their loop")? Wouldn't it be much simpler for everybody involved if the mob put somebody else on that assignment? Less poetic, for sure, but it would make more sense and cause fewer problems. But then, I suppose, we wouldn't have a story.

That's part of the problem with 'Looper': the drama and the plot feel contrived to an extreme degree. There are leaps in logic, science and probability that don't suit a film as ostensibly "smart" and "serious" as this. Jeff Daniels is brilliantly cast against type as a mob boss and Willis is great fun to watch as the cranky older guy, especially in some of the later action scenes, but the film is baggy in the middle and there's business with a telekinetic child that's only silly.

'The Imposter' review:

On a conceptual level, a documentary that turns a very real tragedy into a slick, edge-of-your-seat thriller occupies distinctly grey moral territory. Especially considering the tragedy at the heart of Bart Layton's 'The Imposter' is the disappearance (and presumed death) of a 13 year-old child, Texan Nicholas Barclay, and the French confidence trickster who stole the boy's identity three years later. Yet the film just about carries it off without seeming crass, partly because it focuses on the titular imposter and his gripping story, but mostly because it is so very well made. Energetic, well-paced, stylishly edited together: 'The Imposter' is an entirely cinematic documentary and highly entertaining - even if that ultimately feels a little twisted.

The film tells the remarkable, scarcely credible, true story of how Frédéric Bourdin fooled -among others - the Spanish police, the FBI, US immigration officials (who issued him an American passport) and, depending on your viewpoint, the Barclay family themselves into believing he was the missing Nicholas - all in spite of his thick French accent and wildly different appearance (including having different coloured eyes). It tells how, not satisfied to have merely gotten away with that impressive swindle, he courted the attention of the American media and gave interviews telling a harrowing story of how he was abducted as part of an international military conspiracy, procuring children for the sexual gratification of officers - an outlandish claim which led to an official government investigation into the matter.

Throughout its twists and turns, the film poses questions about the Barclay's apparent willingness to be deceived: did they simply want to believe they had found their child? Or rather, did the family decide to use Bourdin's claim in order to cover up their own murder of the boy? That's a question the filmmakers can't answer definitively, with no evidence ever brought against the family and with Nicholas still officially a missing person, yet the question of how Bourdin had been able to con them - and so many others - despite his own obvious mental fragility and flimsy cover story, hangs over the entire movie.

For his part Bourdin makes for a compelling narrator, telling his story with an infectious enthusiasm, whilst the decision to inter-cut interview footage with polished re-enactment segments only adds to the sense that this is a great true crime thriller that only happens to be a documentary.

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

'Dredd' review:

Last year, I interviewed filmmaker José Padilha, who had at that point only recently been announced as director of next year's new 'RoboCop' movie. Naturally, in this age of vapid re-boots, I was concerned that the humour and political commentary of Paul Verhoeven's 1987 classic might be lost, with the film re-tooled as a straight action movie. A fear he swiftly countered, saying:

“The satire element of RoboCop is, I think, needed today... That kind of social, aggressive satire I haven’t seen done well in movies lately. And it’s almost like the politics and violence in the world is asking for this: 'Someone please make some satire now!' So we’re going to keep that edge.”

He is entirely right: the world - with its financial meltdown, government austerity measures, resurgence of right-wing politics and rapidly advancing technology - is practically begging for something like a vintage Verhoeven movie. We sorely needed a 'RoboCop' or 'Starship Troopers' to come along and savagely poke fun of things, whilst also shamelessly indulging in ultra-violence and gore for our entertainment. An old-school 18-rated science fiction movie, the like of which we haven't really seen since the '12A' certificate was ushered in by comic book movies a decade ago.

Yet, ironically, a comic book adaptation has beaten Padilha to the punch. With the Brazilian's film still nearly a year from release, British television director Pete Travis has swooped in from left-field to deliver all of the above with 'Dredd' - based on 2000AD's Judge Dredd series. Here Karl Urban dons the helmet of the titular fascistic "street judge" in a dystopian future, in a film which is deliciously satirical, whilst also being horrifically and uncompromisingly violent. Like a Verhoeven movie of old, the high-minded political business is indistinguishable from the exploitative, sickeningly fun action stuff. It's funny and sleazy and rarely subtle, with well choreographed action and a tight, disciplined structure. Yet Alex Garland's screenplay is also pretty smart once you get past some (perhaps intentionally) cringe-inducing one-liners.

Dredd himself - a cop, judge, jury and executioner (for those unfamiliar with the character) - is an uncompromising individual, obsessed with enforcing the law to the letter and without question or a shred of compassion. He is a walking Daily Mail column with fire-power, free to threaten the most vulnerable in society from an assumed position of moral authority: he harasses the homeless and sees every law-breaker as nothing more than a scumbag beneath contempt and, often, in need of a good state-sponsored murdering. Yet Garland and Travis tip us off to the fact that we shouldn't necessarily be uncomplicatedly on-side with the protagonist in a number of ways.

The most obvious is the fact that they give us a rather more relatable and warm character in the form of rookie Judge Anderson (Olivia Thirlby), who goes through the movie questioning and undermining her superior's harsh methods and views on society - even going against the rules to spare a criminal's life. Being from the slums herself, and from a marginalised community of psychic mutants, Anderson is less quick to (literally) judge those who transgress the law. Perhaps her psychic abilities give her more empathy than her sociopathic colleagues? What's more, in stark contrast to the unflappable Dredd, she feels remorse at having to kill. As well as Anderson, we're are also given plenty of other reasons to be suspicious of this world's justice system.

For instance, it's clear that giving police the power to murder criminals on sight has not acted as a deterrent against violent crime. In fact, we see that the Judges of Mega-City One are only able to respond to a small percentage of the crimes occurring at any given time. We also see how those fleeing from the cops of this world have little choice but to resort to all out warfare with the authorities. With no chance of reprieve, or anything like a considered trial, the drug dealers and pimps of this reality take to unloading their sub-machine guns and mowing down pedestrians as soon as they see Dredd in their rear-view mirror. If this wasn't a clear enough critique of right-wing ideology, then the scene in which Dredd and Anderson go to arrest a man for being homeless - only to barely react as he's pulverised by a huge mechanical door - is a pretty clear indication of how skewed the "good guys" of this movie are, from a moral standpoint.

Then there's the fact that Lena Headey's crime boss, Ma-Ma, is pretty clearly a victim of repeated sexual abuse and a drug addict. She's pretty cruel, guilty of lots of bloody crimes and seems to take sadistic pleasure in skinning her victims alive, but she's not uncomplicatedly "evil". She's undoubtedly messed up, yet she arguably needs sectioning rather than murdering. And her major vice is arguably less socially harmful than the law's reaction to it: her gang is responsible for putting a new drug called Slo-Mo on the streets - a chemical which causes the user to experience this grey, concrete world in glittery, multi-coloured slow-motion. It actually seems pretty appealing in context.

Where the movie really shines is that this high-minded and timely political commentary is ever-present without being heavy-handed or suffocating how much sheer fun the movie is. The action is brutal and bloody in a way you really don't see any more - even in stuff like 'The Expendables', which exists solely as a throwback to that 1980s action era. It's handled imaginatively, never gets repetitive and there are plenty of clever twists along the way. It's also fantastic that the premise of this movie is so small-scale: basically, our "heroes" get trapped in a gang-controlled skyscraper and have to fight there way to the boss at the penthouse - much like you might in a 90s SEGA arcade brawler. In many ways it's like a feature adaptation of 'Streets of Rage 2', in a very good way.

This is, in effect, the movie Padilha seemed to promise last year, when talking up his handling of 'RoboCop'. That film, however good it may turn out to be, is no longer being released in a vacuum.  Arguably, 'Dredd' is the strongest mainstream action-satire film since 'Starship Troopers' in 1997 and one of the year's biggest surprises.

'Dredd' is out in UK cinemas now, rated '18' by the BBFC.

'Anna Karenina', 'Jackpot' and 'Berberian Sound Studio': review round-up

After yet another long absence, here are some more reviews (some more timely than others!). Mainly I'm interested in bigging up Joe Wright's latest, but I'll also briefly mention a couple of others from the last few weeks that I never found time to write about.

'Anna Karenina' - Dir. Joe Wright (12A)



Having leapt out of his period drama comfort zone with the bold and unconventional 'Hanna', Joe Wright has returned to more familiar ground with this adaptation of lauded nineteenth century novel Anna Karenina, also renewing his partnership with Keira Knightley - star of 'Pride & Prejudice' and 'Atonement'. Yet his treatment of Tolstoy's Russian Lit classic is more reminiscent of his under-appreciated 2011 action-thriller than might have been expected, retaining much of that film's dynamism and editing panache. As with 'Hanna', and 2009's patchy misfire 'The Soloist', sound and image are inseparable here, with the line between diegetic sound and Dario Marianelli's score hard to determine.

Wright's bravura camera-work - at times a little self-conscious, but always technically impressive - is now indelibly linked to the soundtrack in a way only matched in contemporary movies by Paul Thomas Anderson. Because Wright continues to develop this approach, 'Anna Karenina' feels like the evolution of his style rather than a retreat back to the comfort zone. In fact, if anything, the way Wright has chosen to stage this adaptation feels more experimental and imaginative than anything he's attempted previously. The whole thing is presented as though it's occurring within one old theatre, with the sets changing around the actors. Yet the film never feels stage-bound or overly theatrical, with this conceit instead increasing the sense that this tragic love story is larger than life. This stylistic choice (which could sound irksome on paper) never seems in the least contrived or heavy-handed either, carried off with a disarming lightness of touch. It's consistently implemented, yet it never upstages the story or characters.

Of course, at just over two hours in length, this is an abridged version of the story, told in broad brush-strokes, yet that is also to its great credit. This isn't an overly literal adaptation, committed to bringing the book's events to the screen in as much detail as possible, but rather Tom Stoppard's deft screenplay boils the thing down to its essential elements and Wright uses the tools of his trade to incite the viewer to feel Anna's all-consuming passion for Aaron Taylor-Johnson's dashing Count Vronsky - and all the feverish madness that it brings. It's a visceral and emotional telling of the story, rather than an intellectual one, but it works extremely well. Arguably Tolstoy's command of realism and his political/spiritual consciousness is a casualty of this treatment (though neither is wholly absent), but this version gets everything else right.

It certainly works as a character study, supported by a fine central performance from an actor in form, with Knightley impressing recently in films are varied as 'Never Let Me Go' and 'Seeking A Friend for the End of the World'. It also benefits from an eye-catching supporting turn from Jude Law as Anna's jilted husband, confirming once and for all his chops as an interesting character actor when not asked to be a leading man (for another example of this phenomenon, see: Colin Farrell). And, though I don't usually mention costumes, hair and make-up (things I generally have little interest in and next to no understanding of), the work here is uniformly brilliant, with a range of interesting hairstyles and moustaches to suit every finely tailored cavalry officer's uniform. I can't vouch for whether or not real Russian aristocrats of the era looked like they'd stepped off the cover of Sgt. Pepper's, but these guys look fantastic. Special mention goes to Matthew Macfadyen's extraordinary and enviable facial hair (below).

'Jo Nesbø's Jackpot' - Dir. Magnus Martens (15)



Spinning out of the decidedly un-Tolstoyan literary world of ubiquitous Norwegian scribe Jo Nesbø, whose work inspired the bewildering WTF-fest that was 'Headhunters', comes 'Jackpot': another Scandinavian crime thriller of indeterminable earnestness. This strange Christmas movie (released in the UK at the height of summer), sees a collective football bet - between some leather jacketed nutters who work in a Christmas tree factory and their meek friend - end in betrayal and bloody violence, with the now customary mix of ultra-violence, bizarre comic interludes, lost in translation regional humour and gritty social realism. As with 'Headhunters' earlier this year, I enjoyed it without really understanding a) whether I was watching it properly, b) what was going on at all on a plot level and c) whether it was supposed to be hilariously funny.

I don't know whether either film is objectively "good", but both are utterly insane and highly watchable. Both made me cry from laughing and neither go where you would expect them too. What's more, the characters are, to a man, morally bankrupt and generally quite foolish - with the most appealing in this case being Henrik Mestad's sarcastic and world-weary detective. All in all, a good time at the pictures.

'Berberian Sound Studio' - Dir. Peter Strickland (15)



An interesting curiosity that leaves much to be unpacked and pondered upon, Peter Strickland's second feature - following his roundly-praised low budget Romanian debut 'Katalin Varga' in 2009 - is a psychological thriller of sorts. In it Toby Jones plays a nebbish sound technician from the UK, whisked to Rome in order to create sound effects for a Dario Argento style horror movie. The tone and look of this 70s-set piece is pitch perfect, with a lot of fodder for cinephiles in the details. Jones, so often a scene-stealing supporting player in bigger budget movies, excels in the central role. The story, however, is incredibly slight and the whole thing is aimed at the intellect rather than the heart. That isn't a criticism exactly, but it perhaps explains why I have difficulty getting excited about it beyond appreciating the excellence of its constituent parts. Highly polished and completely unique, but more to admire than love here.

'Take This Waltz': review

Rarely does a film slip so frequently, or so drastically, between infuriating and sublime as Sarah Polley's 'Take This Waltz'. It's typified as much by tortured metaphors and on-the-nose production design as it is by moments of heartbreaking honesty and dazzling vision. Several isolated scenes are perfectly judged, by the the cast and by Polley behind the camera, though just as many demand derision - notably an early exchange in which Michelle Williams foreshadows her fear of the uncertainty wrought by ending her marriage by describing her unease of being "in between things" during airport connections. The metaphor itself isn't miserable, but no room is left for interpretation or reflection and it gets worse when the same metaphor is picked up - and again discussed in detail - later on.

Though there are just as many great moments, the best involving Seth Rogen, as Williams' husband, and his myriad of emotional responses to the inevitable end of his marriage, including a tear-jerking reveal concerning a "long-term joke". Comic Sarah Silverman also turns in a credible dramatic performance as Rogen's alcoholic sister, though Williams' handsome extra-marital love interest is certainly the film's weak link, as played by Luke Kirby. But this is, for the most part, a showcase for Williams' significant acting talents and it is she who carries the film for the most part, with the other three principal cast members operating in her orbit.

Perhaps best of all is the judgement free way Polley, who also wrote the screenplay, depicts the end of a marriage where neither party has done anything particularly wrong. It's suggested that Rogen's guileless husband has neglected his wife sexually and that there relationship has became comfortable at the expense of excitement, yet overall the end of his marriage is tragic because it comes without much obvious cause. It's also complicated by the idea that, perhaps, Williams will live to regret her decision at some point in the future. Williams wants to be able to feel that early excitement again with somebody and knows she cannot rekindle that with her husband (however much she tries), but that's it: they still basically love each other. Whether she will ever be as comfortable with Kirby, we shall never know, though it's implied that both options may ultimately lead to the same bitter-sweet place.

Whether or not the decision to leave her husband is worth the gamble is the ultimate question posed by 'Take This Waltz', and happily it isn't anywhere near as flippantly 'Dead Poet's Society' as its title may suggest. Whether or not Williams embraces her impulses and takes life's confusing, emotionally turbulent, uncertain invitation to dance, Polley's film is smart enough, and sensitive enough, to make us question that desire and identify with the character's most prosaic, a-romantic concerns.

'Take This Waltz' is out now in the UK, rated '15' by the BBFC.

'The Expendables 2', 'The Bourne Legacy', 'Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry' and 'Searching for Sugar Man': review round-up

Now that I'm well and truly equipped with a new PC, I have no good reason to keep my reviews confined to short round-up form. However, I have a few movies still stored up from the past few weeks and that format is the easiest way to clear the deck, so to speak. This time around I present to you quite an (I think) intriguing mix: two little documentaries and two action blockbusters: a "thinking bloke's" thriller and a brainless, but thoroughly (if guiltily) entertaining sequel.

'The Expendables 2' - Dir. Simon West (15)

I hated 'The Expendables' - the 2010 flick designed as a sort of male equivalent of 'Sex & the City 2', built solely to pander to misplaced nostalgia for politically dubious (to be kind) 80s/90s action movies. It had a black heart, horrific politics and - perhaps worst of all - its set pieces were unimaginative and characters instantly forgettable. It was a masterpiece of stunt casting, uniting a group of heroes from yesteryear, but the poster was infinitely more fun than the film itself.

However, director Simon West (of 'Con Air' fame) has delivered a much better sequel after taking the reigns from star (and co-writer) Sylvester Stallone. It's still a little bit racist - "Chinese take out" is the joke as Jet Li jumps out of a plane, whilst every villain is an unassimilated foreigner - and plenty sexist: a shameless sausagefest, every bit as homoerotically suggestive as its predecessor (these dudes talk about each other's "weapons" constantly, whilst the addition of a woman to the group (Yu Nan) gives rise to all sorts of adolescent tittering and performance anxiety). Yet there is something much more fun about it; It feels less po-faced and more willing to have fun with its very silly premise.

It feels like the movie adaptation of a line of 90s children's action figures, complete with collectable vehicles and changeable weapons, and with that the film's regressive, pre-teen version of masculinity becomes more palatable. It knows what it is and is comfortable being the sort of camp curiosity the first one should have been. 'The Expendables 2' doesn't so much verge on self-parody as willingly run into it, and in doing so it becomes much harder to outright hate even if it remains hard to like. In fact, I watched most of the film with a broad smile on my face, laughing loudly at the unrelenting tour de force of escalating bombastic sillyness in front of me. I don't know if it's objectively "good" (whatever that even means) - and that's not a sly way of admitting it isn't: I genuinely couldn't say given that I don't know whether I was laughing at it or with it - but it was funnier than the majority of comedies, I'll give it that.

For instance, Let Li beats up a room of guys with a saucepan; Jason Statham decks a room of dudes dressed as an Orthodox priest; Dolph Lundgren reveals his advanced understanding of chemistry. Chuck Norris turns up and it's hilarious, complete with a riff on his modern status as a meme (Stallone: "I heard you had a run in with a king cobra" Norris: "yeah. And, after five days in agony, the cobra died"). Arnie and Bruce Willis show up (a couple of times) and it's brilliantly self-aware and funny, even if (or perhaps because) it's never subtle as they quote 'Die Hard' and 'The Terminator' at each other. It's oddly pretty good natured fun, given that the head's of "bad guys" are exploding in OTT red streaks in almost every single frame. Humanistic or sensitive the film is not, and it lags whenever we're truly asked to care about these horrible human beings: who torture their prisoners and murder thousands with smiles on their faces. But when it isn't doing that it kind of works.

It's a who's who of Hollywood Republicans getting together to celebrate guns, American might and patriarchy, yet it somehow does this in a way that had even this lilly-livered Guardian reader - one, I remind you, predisposed to hate it, hanging on its every explosion.

'The Bourne Legacy' - Dir. Tony Gilroy (12A)
The obvious question facing this latest instalment of the highly-rated spy-thriller series is "can it survive the loss of star Matt Damon and director Paul Greengrass", as Jeremy "so hot right now" Renner and screenwriter Tony Gilroy take the reigns? The answer is a broad "yes", in that 'Legacy' has not killed the franchise. It's solid, moves along at a fair clip and does the usual job of providing slick action sequences amid an otherwise fairly dense, talky thriller. But it isn't quite as good as the original trilogy, getting a little unnecessarily bogged down in its internal mythology, with far too many scenes involving people in government offices talking about secret projects and the like.

In fact it often feels as though the fairly entertaining scenes between Renner's rogue operative Aaron Cross and his reluctant ally, a scientist who 'knows too much' played by Rachel Weisz, are outnumbered by bits of Ed Norton shouting about "the big screen", "Treadstone", "senate hearings" and "the crisis suite". It tries too hard to associate itself with the previous films too, in a way that prevents it from having much of its own personality. But unfortunately, instead of enhancing its street cred in the intended way, this only adds to the feeling that this is the Bourne B-team: an in-depth look at a previously un-glimpsed background character that plays like a two-hour deleted scene.

There is one brilliant - and I mean absolutely amazing - bit, in which Renner gets one up on a persistently annoying wolf in the most spectacularly overzealous way possible ("you should have left me alone" being his totally unnecessary putdown for the ill-fated woodland quarry). If nothing else it should provide closure to those dissatisfied by the resolution of 'The Grey'. Yet aside from this (admittedly very silly) sequence, it's hard to remember much from a film which is far more efficient and capable than it is particularly outstanding. In that way it serves as an apt metaphor for its dependable, if over-exposed lead.



'Searching for Sugar Man' - Dir. Malik Bendjelloul (12A)
Undoubtedly one of the film's that's effected and fascinated me the most this year, 'Searching for Sugar Man' is a great and stylishly put together documentary about a mysterious 1970s singer-songwriter whose unjust obscurity in the US is made all the more strange by his rock god status in apartheid South Africa. The bizarre and moving story of Rodriquez is probably best left for the film to tell in detail, but rest assured it's a compelling tale about a humble man of immense charisma. It's a less comic yet far classier version of 'Anvil', to sell it in crass marketing terms.

As well as being a great story, irrespective of musical taste, it also serves as an effective showcase for a previously unsung musician, whose music and poetic lyrics are given a long-deserved airing. Tracks from the artist's two early 70s records, Cold Fact and Coming From Reality (his only two albums to date), are allowed to play at length, alongside illuminating visuals that highlight some of the wry social commentary (such as the urban decay of Detroit) without ever being too on the nose. It made an instant Rodriquez fan out of me and I'd say it's a must-see for anyone with an interest in the likes of Bob Dylan, The Byrds or 70s rock in general. I don't usually like to boil down reviews to straightforward recommendations, but I feel the need to in this instance: go see it.



'Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry' - Dir. Alison Klayman (15)
Inspiring even if it's not typically "feelgood", this intimate look at the activism and art of the outspoken Ai Weiwei, a prominent critic of the Chinese government, is deeply affecting - both as a critique of modern China and as a portrait of Weiwei the man. Director Alison Klayman has near total access to her subject, as he fights various vain legal battles against brutal policeman, censors and those who would cover up the deaths of children for the sake of international propaganda. It's a high-stakes battle that Weiwei is waging and he comes scarily close to a bad end at several points, yet his determination and resolve surely should reinvigorate even the most politically jaded and nihilistic of souls. He's never hopeless even when things seem at their most bleak.

Visually it's quite limited, by necessity as much as anything as mobile cameras follow the artist day to day, yet this is still one of the year's best docs. It's also an interesting and rare glimpse at social media as a force for good. People are increasingly cynical about sites like Twitter, but here Weiwei enthusiastically showcases how such tools can be used to mount a sustained campaign for social justice and reform. His love of such sites, and the potential he sees in them to energise the young and democratise society, is refreshing and provides an intelligent voice in favour of progress in an age where such technological advancements are routinely dismissed as cold and alienating.

'Nostalgia for the Light' review:

Veteran Chilean documentarian Patricio Guzmán pushes a lot of the right buttons with 'Nostalgia for the Light': a elegiac film which investigates our relationship with the past. This includes the distant, galactic past as gleaned by astronomers, using the light of long-dead stars to uncover the secrets behind existence, as well as archaeologists who scratch through the earth looking for evidence of our more recent, immediate past - sifting through the soil for human remains whose calcium was formed in the Big Bang so long ago. Yet the film also looks at smaller, more intimate forms of remembering, as Chile comes to terms with the horrors of the Pinochet-era 1970s.

There is an architect and former political prisoner, who reconstructs images of concentration camps from memory. Meanwhile, there are dozens of bereaved women who comb through the Atacama Desert in a possibly vain search for the bones of murdered loved ones - unable to let go of the past and forsaking the present. One woman dedicates her life to taking care of victims of torture - something Guzmán's narration describes as working in the past. It is even suggested, by one scientist, that the present itself is an illusion: that everything we see and hear is from the past, even if only by millionths of a second. Light is itself nostalgic is the point, yet it is also erasing the past - as a gallery of photos of the "disappeared" subtly conveys, with many of the portraits long-since faded by the sun.

It is fascinating to ponder the relationship between the history of existence and our own, smaller scale trauma as insignificant creatures wondering about on a doomed space-rock - and I admire Guzmán for making an attempt at joining these dots and asking a lot of the right questions. However, the film itself often strains to make its point and sometimes it even feels exploitative of its subjects - most notably as an elderly woman's Alzheimer's is casually used as the basis for a tortured metaphor. The subject matter here - both life, the universe and everything and the story of Chile under Pinochet - is spellbinding, but the execution is sadly lacking. It's inherently profound stuff and I have a feeling various images and soundbites will stay with me, yet 'Nostalgia for the Light' is, to me, a conceptual triumph as opposed to an actual one.

'Nostalgia for the Light' is on limited release in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'The Dark Knight Rises' and 'Ted': review round-up

Still waiting on buying a new computer so I never got around to posting that in-depth 'The Dark Knight Rises' critique I wanted to. And seeing as that film has now been out for a few weeks it feels like old news, so I may as well just write a little something about it ahead of an (even more brief) appraisal of Seth MacFarlane's comedy 'Ted'. Be warned, this is a sour grapes, spoilsport edition blog post, in which I actively dislike two films most people have at least enjoyed, if not broadly praised. I wanted to enjoy both of these, for what it's worth.

'The Dark Knight Rises'
Part of the problem facing this one is that I loved 'The Dark Knight' all out of proportion and, in enjoying it as much as I did four summers ago, I also became a fairly big supporter of director Christopher Nolan. However, since then two things have happened: firstly, 'Inception' came along and wore out any goodwill I had accumulated towards the filmmaker - being bloated, pompous, cold and extremely reliant on exposition (all flaws 'TDKR' shares to greater and lesser extents). Secondly, and more recently, 'The Avengers' came out and showed us all that big superhero movies could be unabashed fun - true to their source material without overly pandering to hardcore fans, yet broadly celebratory of their pulpy source material all the same. By contrast Nolan's films still feel embarrassed to have Batman in them.

Now, before people shout "bias", I didn't go in resolved to dislike 'TDKR' because of these factors, but I probably wasn't as pumped for it as I would have been a couple of short years ago. But what really stopped me from getting on with 'TDKR' was the film itself: overlong, self-important, and even sloppily made - with Hans Zimmer's score overpowering much of the dialogue and with a basic lack of storytelling coherency throughout. There are too many new characters. The film chops between too many disparate plot threads and far too frequently. There is zero sense of either time (months pass and we know this only because of dialogue) or space (people go from desserts to cities without the sense of physical distance).

The film is full of strange "joke" moments and throwaway lines that feel like they come from a different movie and are presented in such a cold and robotic way that they feel forced. And though Anne Hathaway nails it as Catwoman, and Michael Caine does some wonderful stuff with some otherwise over-written and melodramatic dialogue, it's a mystery how such a poor performance was drawn from the usually excellent Marion Cotillard. Don't even get me started on Tom Hardy, over-acting with his eyes and delivering his lines in a variable and barely understandable accent. I've been told he's easier to understand if you see the film in IMAX, with 7.1 surround sound - but that's not how most people will see it and, to me, that sounds like a poor excuse for bad mixing/sound design/acting.

The action scenes are technically impressive but lack any feeling of awe. The fistfights lack anything like imaginative choreography, tending to resemble to big men exchanging punches. Joseph Gordon Levitt is really compelling as a rookie detective, but gets relatively little to do (you could say the same for Catwoman, forgotten for most of the film's second half). Batman himself spends far too much time walking in daylight and his secret identity is shared far too liberally. Add to all this the fact that the film's politics are dispiritingly conservative, broadly supportive of the super-rich and cynical about those who would seek to redress the balance (the occupy movement is the obvious target, but not the only one in a film that's broadly suspicious of any and all grass roots social change). There are two tacked on, completely false feeling, romantic sub-plots - one of which is (arguably) relevant to the story but the other one is completely superfluous.

It's just no fun at all. In fact it's incredibly boring and goes on forever. I have to admit, I enjoyed it slightly more on a second viewing, with radically reduced expectations, getting swept up in the internal mythology of a trilogy that contains the ultimate re-boot ('Batman Begins') and one of the best (if not THE BEST) superhero movies ever made ('The Dark Knight'). But it still isn't a good movie. I feel like such a grouchy old man right now, but there it is.

'Ted'
If you thought I sounded like a fun-spoiling misanthrope above, then you're not going to enjoy this. Kicking a comedy - a film which only intends to spread laughter - often feels like a thankless task. And if 'Ted' has given audiences some laughs and distracted them from the outside world for an hour and a half, then all power to it. But for me - not a fan of 'Family Guy' by any yardstick - it was just a one-joke crass-fest and an extremely pointless one at that. That one joke being: "it's funny because a children's toy is swearing and fucking hookers!" A child gets punched in the face. People poo on stuff. Every race, creed and mental illness is casually mined for shock humour - with zero satirical intent or apparent meaning. If that sounds like your idea of a good time, and if I sound like a massive snob by saying this, then clearly you'll have more fun with it than I did.

I laughed twice - though I can't remember at what - and, for what it's worth, I like the initial premise: a classic 80s kids movie wish fulfilment fantasy taken to its horrendous conclusion. Yet otherwise it left me cold. The cast is solid, MacFarlane's direction is assured and the CGI bear works well with his surroundings - but that's about the best I can say for it.

'Electrick Children' and 'Killer Joe': review round-up

It's time (well way past time, if I'm honest) for another review round-up. Recently access to a computer and time to write have been rare, though I've now moved house (!) and I should have a new computer within the next week or so. In other words: this blog will soon be getting serious attention again.

I'm going to save my review of 'The Dark Knight Rises' for a full article, in order to explain why I really, really didn't enjoy it - a position I imagine I have to take time and thought to defend, judging by the otherwise unanimous praise it's attracted. The fact that disliking the film places me in company with Chris Tookey of the Mail is cause for concern, but I can't pretend I didn't find it to be joyless, bloated and narratively very messy indeed (though Anne Hathaway was amazing as Catwoman).

But in lieu of the time to do that proper write-up now, here are two short appraisals of some smaller films what I saw:

'Killer Joe'
The second really enjoyable Matthew McConaughey movie in as many weeks - following his show-stealing performance in 'Magic Mike' - 'Killer Joe' is as entertaining as it is troubling and sadistic: a taut little thriller about an infighting trailer park family who stumble into serious trouble after haplessly hiring the titular freelance murderer. The performances are uniformly excellent, from Juno Temple's enigmatic turn as the disturbed young girl (is she tragically naive or entirely cruel?) to Emile Hirsch as her pathetic older brother and Thomas Haden Church as their impotent, browbeaten father. Yet McConaughey is obviously the stand-out performer, giving Joe a disarming Texan gentility that renders his remorseless and sexually violent killer even more creepy.

Director William Friedkin and screenwriter Tracy Letts - author of the original stageplay - deliver a memorable and disturbing little picture, which culminates in a masterful third act which plays out as one scene set around the family dinner table - one which won't help drive sales of KFC and may serve as a cold shower for any ladies still breathless from seeing the lead actor parading about as a male stripper the week previous. The whole thing plays as satirical, especially in its darkest moments, though it isn't entirely clear what the target is. That would ordinarily leave me struggling to justify the ultra-violence, but 'Killer Joe' is too well crafted and cast for that to present much of a problem.

'Electrick Children'
This quirksome American indie sees a naive Mormon virgin (Julia Garner) flee her closed, rural community - lead by her preacher father bafflingly played by Billy Zane - after convincing herself that she has been made pregnant by rock and roll music after stumbling upon one of her mother's old cassette tapes. On the outside she meets, and forms an instant connection with, Rory Culkin's music scene hanger-on/skateboarder. Her older brother, Mr. Will (Bill Sage), is also along for the ride, having been cast out after being accused of fathering the child.

Is the girl really pregnant from music or is she carrying the son of God? Or is there some other, more rational, reason for the whole thing? I'm dammed if I know. Perhaps the lack of answers (or even interesting questions) wouldn't be so terrible if the 96 minutes spent in the company of these people didn't feel so terminally dull. It's a horrifically insincere poser of a movie, so concerned with seeming accidentally hip that it forgets to have a story, relatable characters or a sense of purpose.

'Brave', 'Magic Mike', 'Seeking a Friend For the End of the World', 'Woody Allen: A Documentary'

Not to get all confessional, but I'm still having a bit of a rough time at the moment (boo hoo!) so I haven't been updating as often as I would like. But I've got a little bit of time at a computer right now so I thought I'd do a few more mini-reviews, discussing the films I've seen over the past week. I hope you check back again soon when I hope to return to more consistent blogging. Anyway, here goes...

'Brave'
Pixar's first non-sequel since the phenomenal 'Up', 'Brave' was a troubled production which saw original director Brenda Chapman replaced as a result of "creative differences" midway through. With that in mind it's pretty amazing that the final film is such a fine addition to the studio's pantheon: a mature and nuanced mother-daughter bonding story that's pretty touching and, as usual, beautifully animated. The backgrounds are richly detailed and the character animation is peerless, particularly for the film's hero, Scottish Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald) - a determinedly individual teenage redhead, and skilled shot with a bow - resentful of her mother's (Emma Thompson) attempts to make her a courtly lady and marry her off to a rival family's prince.

At a first glance it seems as if the decision to make her father (Billy Connolly), the king, indifferent to the whole arranged marriage thing (with all the men in the film lovably feckless and harmless) wrongly casts patriarchy as the oppression of women by other women. However, a second act twist that I won't spoil here reveals the purpose behind the framing of the story as Merida versus the queen and confirms that Pixar deserve the benefit of the doubt from their audience. The central conceit is genius when it gets going and ensures that this is a genuine female empowerment tale without being at all condescending or in the least trite.

'Magic Mike'
Steven Soderbergh is on a good run at the moment, something which makes his impending retirement a real shame. 'Contagion' and 'Haywire' rank among the most enjoyable films of the last twelve months, and now 'Magic Mike' can be added to that list. Based on star Channing Tatum's own experiences as a male stripper, this slightly moralistic and overlong tale is more than salvaged by a fine - and extremely intense - performance by Matthew McConaughey and a couple of really funny scenes. Tatum confirms that he is a genuine star, a quadruple threat: showcasing some amazing dancing chops to add to his established gifts for action ('Haywire', 'Fighting'), comedy ('21 Jump Street') and romance ('Dear John').

'Seeking a Friend for the End of the World'
Perhaps the year's most pleasant surprise, this apocalypse dramedy sees Steve Carell and Keira Knightley forming an unlikely friendship with only days to go before an asteroid destroys the planet. It's a sublimely sweet little movie from 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist' scribe Lorene Scafaria, which skillfully combines genuine heartfelt emotion with black comedy. There are some really profound musings on love, life and regret here, but also some of the best comic moments of the year as people react to the end of days in a myriad of psychotic and self-deluding ways.

For her part Knightley is uncharacteristically winsome as the young, zesty one - never overselling the kookiness factor - whilst Carell channels the downbeat introvert persona that has worked so well in previous dramatic efforts to equally great effect. It makes for an appealing screen pairing in a movie that's life-affirming without being overly saccharine. Perhaps it's because it tapped into my current emotional state, but I found this film really emotional.

'Woody Allen: A Documentary'
A nice little career overview with unprecedented access to its interview shy subject, this doc gives an insight into Allen's work methods and personal life, even spending a reasonable amount of time on all that stuff - ensuring that it's not quite a whitewash, even if it's overall very positive. There are also interview segments with many of his collaborators and stars, as well as dozens of hilarious clips from his best films and old TV appearances - all of view do a great job of showcasing Allen's comic genius and razor-sharp wit. There's nothing here for non-fans, but those who already appreciate the great man will find much to like in this entertaining look at everything from 'What's New Pussycat' to 'Midnight in Paris'.

'The Amazing Spider-Man', 'Snow White and the Huntsman' and 'Your Sister's Sister': review round-up

Love that scene and that movie.

Dearest readers! I have been remiss of late in providing "content" for this blog. First there was a (successful) trial with a website, who want me to write for them as an assistant editor soon. Then came a trip to a small film festival in Amsterdam. And now a painful break-up with my long-term girlfriend which has left me - for practical and emotional reasons - unable to write for this blog. It happened at the weekend, after seven deliriously happy years, and that's all I'll say about it here because this isn't and never will be that sort of blog (not that there's anything wrong with that). I just wanted to account for my tardiness.

In any case, I have been able to see a few films over the last few days and whilst I can't be bothered to give them full reviews at this time, I thought it'd be a nice distraction to come on here and summarise my thoughts.

Starting with...

'The Amazing Spider-Man'
With great power comes great responsibility, and Sony have abused theirs with this cynical "franchise re-boot" that re-tells the Peter Parker origin story with some 'Batman Begins' grittiness that's, like, sooo 2005. They've also recast Parker (played by The Spectacular Andrew Garfield) as an angsty emo skater kid in a move that feels even more outdated. "This is what the kids like, right?" seems to be the question on the lips of executives, who also play up the romantic aspect of Spidey's relationship with High School sweetheart Gwen Stacey (Emma Stone), presumably in an attempt to make Spider-Man the next 'Twilight'.

The cast is uniformly great, with Martin Sheen and Sally Field taking on Uncle Ben and Aunt May respectively, whilst Rhys Ifans is a good fit as Dr. Curt Connors (AKA The Lizard) even if the film doesn't know what to do with him and the script restricts him to mostly pseudo-science exposition. And though I didn't like '500 Days (of Summer)' at all, director Marc Webb - the most awesome name-related coincidence since German football club Wolfsburg were managed by Wolfgang Wolf - does a pretty decent job with both the action scenes and some of the Spider-Man as metaphor for puberty teenage growth moments. In fact the film's highlight is easily the comic sequence during which Parker first encounters his super-strength, smashing his bed-side alarm clock.

It's hokey and cheesy to an extent that will probably grate with even fans of Sam Raimi's trilogy, with some truly god awful moments whenever the dialogue reaches for profound and the action attempts to carry some kind of great weight (such as when a New York construction crew come to Spidey's aid in improbable and extremely goofy fashion) but it does feel like a comic book, particularly when it comes to the Lizard's stupid grand scheme (turn everyone into lizards for some reason) and how Spider-Man moves during fights. The animation of Spider-Man doing his thing, swinging on webs and ducking and diving during bouts, is far superior to any other filmic translation of the character to date.

'The Amazing Spider-Man' hops wildly between being terrible and pretty damn good. And it's way too long and a little too slow. But it isn't the car crash I was expecting and I certainly wouldn't mind seeing an improved sequel with the same cast and, perhaps, a different creative team behind the camera. Oh, and the 3D is terrible: neither subtly providing depth or doing much obvious, in-your-face trickery. I removed my glasses during some of the non-action scenes and - at least from what I could tell - they were just 2D. So I reluctantly find myself agreeing with the "it's just a con" brigade this time around.

If I seem to have been overly kind to the Spider-Man movie, it might have something to do that I went into it right off the back of...

'Snow White and the Huntsman'
Totally terrible and without a single redeeming quality. Except maybe some of the special effects design concerning the transformative powers of Charlize Theron's evil Queen. For one thing it's brazenly ripping off a half-dozen better movies in every frame. There's a whole sequence lifted from 'Princess Mononoke', loads and loads of people-walking-over-mountains stuff captured by the second unit which owes an obvious debt to the 'Lord of the Rings' films, Kristen Stewart's Snow White gets dressed up in battle armour in a re-imagining that recalls Tim Burton's dreadful 'Alice in Wonderland' and the staging of the climatic battle - which sees cavalry charging across a beach - is almost shot-for-shot identical to the end of Ridley Scott's 'Robin Hood'.

Chris "Thundergod" Hemsworth has nothing to do aside from a ridiculous Scottish accent as the Huntsman, whilst Stewart - obviously not an unattractive woman - is totally miscast as the "fairest of them all". Particularly as she can't smile without gurning. She pouts her way through the entire movie, her character has no personality and it's one of those horrible narratives in which she triumphs because of her superior royal blood. I actually hate this movie. This wretched, distended piece of crap movie. If I hadn't recently sat through 'Rock of Ages' this might be the worst film of the year so far that I've seen (bear in mind that I don't go see stuff like 'Think Like a Man' or 'Jack and Jill').

The audience I saw it with did genuinely seem to connect with the seven dwarves when they showed up, but that's probably because they are played by established thesps (including Toby Jones, Nick Frost, Ray Winstone, Bob Hoskins, Ian McShane) in miniature. Though this is a morally dubious move, taking away acting roles from real dwarf performers who make a living of exactly this type of film, it does work surprisingly well and they represent the only characters in the movie worth giving a damn about. Even if every joke around them is basically "aw, aren't they small!"

'Your Sister's Sister'
Unquestionably the year's biggest disappointment to-date, this one doesn't hold a candle to director Lynne Shelton's previous little indie movies: 'Humpday' and 'My Effortless Brilliance'. A miscast Emily Blunt, with a wildly varying American accent, is one of the key flaws, but mainly it fails because the little human drama just tries to go a little too big in the final third. It's the same problem with other recent "Mumblecore" forays into the mainstream - such as 'Cyrus' and 'Jeff, Who Lives at Home' - both co-directed by this film's male lead Mark Duplass.

The first half enjoys the same low-key, well-observed vibe of previous films, as an uneasy love-triangle type thing develops between those stars and Rosemarie DeWitt (who plays Blunt's drunken baby-obsessed lesbian sister). DeWitt is the best thing in it and, even as her character becomes less and less appealing, she is terrific. But when a high-stakes dramatic reveal is made the whole thing turns to shit. I don't want to spoil it so I'll just say it makes little sense (both as a real-world instance and in terms of these characters) and takes the film in a direction it didn't need to go. The smaller relationship drama was interesting without the need to inject gimmicky and contrived last-act soap opera.

'Rock of Ages' review:

Did this really happen, or was it just a horrible dream? 'Rock of Ages', the star-studded adaptation of a popular stage musical, is a dreadful movie. A film where every beat is played for humour but nothing is even remotely funny. A film that takes actors as good as Paul Giamatti and Alex Baldwin and makes you wish you never had to look at them again. It's a cringing and overlong slog which takes various 1980s hair metal classics and proceeds to turn them into the sort of creakily staged, amateurishly performed ditties made famous by Halifax ads. It feels so hollow and inherently false that it somehow resembles a karaoke cover version of itself. It lacks atmosphere, charm and any small trace of entertainment value. It's not clear which demographic this film is for, but I know I never want to meet them.

The story - little more than a thinly veiled excuse to move the characters between "I Love Rock and Roll" and "Don't Stop Believing" - runs as follows: smooth-skinned small-town girl (Julianne Hough) meets smooth-skinned small-town boy (Diego Boneta) after both move to LA to make their rock dreams come true. They immediately - as in during their first day together - fall in love. However, they are just as easily broken up by the sort of contrived misunderstanding usually reserved for the dying days of a hokey sitcom - as boy sees girl emerging from the dressing room of "rock icon" Stacee Jaxx: Tom Cruise reminiscent of his pathetic and empty character from 'Magnolia', only this time you aren't supposed to feel uncomfortable.



In the mix are Baldwin and "funnyman" Russell Brand, as comedy relief and owners of a once-awesome, now lovably ramshackle concert venue in danger of closing its doors unless X amount of money is raised, etc etc. For some reason a mother's organisation, lead by the mayor's wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones), wants to shut the place down, even though it's more smiley and non-threatening than the cast of 'Glee'. Oh, and the mayor is played by Bryan Cranston for some reason, with his appearance here somehow even more thankless than his brief turn in 'John Carter'. He literally has nothing to do and his sub-plot - that he enjoys kinky, extra-marital sex - comes to nothing at all. Not only does it not have any sort of resolution, but it doesn't even connect with the other plotlines. It's just one of many cut-away gags that must have seemed funny at the time.

Cruise is the only bright spot and, though fifty next month, he embodies his shirtless rock god character with an energy and commitment not matched anywhere else in the cast. The film is still bad when he's on-screen, but at least it feels vaguely alive. It's disappointing that Zeta-Jones doesn't get to sing a few more songs, given how she won an Oscar for her show-stealing role in 'Chicago', but anyone who sits through one of Baldwin and Brand's duets will know that "the ability to sing" was not a prerequisite for appearing in this movie. This garish, ugly, waste of talent with no redeeming qualities of a movie.

'Rock of Ages' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is set to be released in the UK on June 13th.

'2 Days in New York' review:

Chris Rock and Julie Delpy form an appealing on-screen couple in '2 Days in New York', as local radio personality Mingus and struggling artist Marion - two perennial malcontents whose fragile equilibrium is disrupted by a visit from the latter's French family, to amusing effect. Rock, a big talent who's never really found Hollywood a perfect fit, really shines here, playing laid-back and charming where he would usually be typecast as loud and manic. Delpy, who wrote and directed this sequel to her earlier '2 Days in Paris', is radiant as ever and with that same attractive quality of not taking herself - or her status as a glamorous movie star - too seriously, whilst paradoxically giving the impression of having a tremendous intellect.

A lot of the film's humour is self-depreciating, but not in a way that feels condescending to the audience: Marion's worries and concerns, about her fading beauty and embarrassing relatives, seem genuine, even autobiographical in spite of her undeniable elegance. There is a deeply personal feel to '2 Days in New York' that is best exemplified by the continued casting of Delpy's real-life father (Albert Delpy) as Marion's father Jeannot - a scruffy but adorable old gentleman who falls somewhere between an unkempt vagrant and a beloved grandpa. A Los Angeles resident and naturalised US citizen, Delpy writes the cross-cultural comedy in a way that feels authentic, if exaggerated for comic effect.

In fact the whole things fritters unevenly between a small-scale, dialogue-driven romantic comedy, in the tradition of Woody Allen, and a much broader farce - perhaps in the tradition of older, zanier Woody Allen. Both aspects work and are funny in isolation, but the mix between urbane maturity and the bigger, more whimsical moments makes the film feel scattershot.


'2 Days in New York' is on a limited release in the UK, rated '15' by the BBFC.