'Captain America: the Winter Soldier', 'Under the Skin', 'The Past', and 'Starred Up': review round-up

'Captain America: the Winter Soldier' - Dir. Anthony & Joe Russo (12A)

A sequel to both Joe Johnston's charmingly Spielbergian WWII-set origin story 'Captain America: the First Avenger' and Joss Whedon's superhero team-up crowd-pleaser 'The Avengers', 'Captain America: the Winter Soldier' is tonally very different to those films and indeed to the rest of the Marvel Studios oeuvre to-date. Directed by the Russo brothers, this one is more of a conspiracy thriller and - without going all Nolan Batman and jettisoning fun and colour - it's a comparatively gritty and grounded affair. Much like the Ed Brubaker run in the comics, which introduced this film's antagonist the Winter Soldier (alluded to by the writer's cameo as one of the scientists behind his creation), the film does a neat job of including lots of outlandish and far-fetched comic book elements - from the winged exploits of Anthony Mackie's Falcon to the newly computer-bound consciousness of Toby Jones' Arnim Zola - with something altogether more grounded and grave.

The casting of Robert Redford as the political face of world peacekeeping force SHIELD, Alexander Pierce, is one of many nods to the classic thrillers of the 70s, as this film delves into more morally grey territory than its predecessor. Where once there was a struggle between the 'greatest generation' and the Nazis, Cap (Chris Evans) now finds himself in a world he doesn't recognise and which has seemingly abandoned the principles of freedom he fought so hard for in the 40s. Now SHIELD is starting to look like something more tyrannical and oppressive than it seemed when Nick Fury (Samuel L Jackson) first burst onto the scene at the end of the first 'Iron Man' film - creating huge, automated airborne battleships capable of detecting and erasing threats before they happen: in an obvious nod to both modern drone warfare and the NSA surveillance scandals of the last few years.

Against this background is a well-crafted superhero romp, which is also something of a mini-Avengers team-up as Cap unites with the aforementioned Falcon and Scarlett Johansson's espionage specialist Black Widow to stay one step ahead of SHIELD and discover the truth behind the agency's corruption - thwarted at every turn my a mysterious new enemy with a link to Cap's own past: the Winter Soldier (Sebastian Stan). The action is hard-hitting, well choreographed and visceral, whilst the main players exhibit the sort of good chemistry needed to make all the bits in between fun. Especially Chris Evans in the starring role - an actor who imbues the title character with as much subtle depth as he does obvious decency.

'Under the Skin' - Dir. Jonathan Glazer (15)

A masterclass in editing and sound design, Jonathan Glazer's 'Under the Skin' stars Scarlett Johansson as an alien who takes on the form of a human female and uses this guise to seduce lonely, socially isolated men, who she then traps and harvests for... some reason probably much clearer to those who've read the Michel Faber novel. Though I'd argue the question of why she captures these men and what exactly becomes of them is a secondary concern in a film that works primarily on the level of visceral, sensory experience. In lieu of much specificity or explanation, this is simply the story of an outsider assimilating and attempting to fit in (albeit with nefarious intent), learning a certain degree of compassion for humanity and gradually becoming more unsettled by and attached to her newly acquired body.

Johansson is perfectly cast in the role, especially as the film is set in Scotland and she adopts a clean, regionally non-specific English accent when talking to her co-stars - mostly comprised of non-actors, supposedly oblivious (at least at first) to the fact they were part of a film. The audience is aware that she's a Hollywood movie star pretending to be English and, even if they don't consciously realise it, those she approaches must also have sensed this unease with and disconnect from the star in their midst: familiar yet just different enough to sow seeds of doubt. She's an impostor playing an impostor and it works brilliantly, especially as she glides around British high streets and shopping centres in her black wig and incongruous fur coat.

Moments of intense body horror and a heart-pounding finale combine with this playful casting and Glazer's technical mastery to create something truly memorable - potentially even destined for cult status.

'The Past' - Dir. Asghar Farhadi (12A)

In a style familiar to fans of his earlier films, such as 'A Separation' and 'About Elly', director Asghar Farhadi's maiden effort outside of Iranian cinema is still a tightly wound and faultlessly humane drama, peppered with extraordinary revelations and populated by nuanced and fully-formed characters who are lead by circumstance to ponder profound ethical questions. Ali Mosaffa stars as Ahmad, an Iranian man who travels to France to finalise a divorce from his wife Marie (Berenice Bejo, star of 'The Artist') from whom he has been separated for four years. Whilst there he is immediately thrown, quite against his will, into an unfolding family drama that he otherwise has nothing to do with, as Marie begs him to have a heart-to-heart with her eldest daughter from a previous marriage, Lucie (Pauline Burlet), in order to find out why she's taken against her mother's new partner Samir, played by 'A Prophet' star Tahar Rahim.

After a half-dozen twists and turns we come to understand the various conflicting points of view all involved in the unfolding crisis, which this time revolves around the theme of forgiveness and moving on from what has happened before - of leaving an old life behind as you head into another. Something which none of the characters can quite face doing, at least without difficulty and heartache. Nobody in contemporary cinema (at least that I know of) is quite as brilliant as Farhadi when it comes to creating ensemble casts in which every character is so complex and well drawn. As with his other films, the four central characters here - along with another three or four supporting cast members - are each worthy of audience investment and sympathy, portrayed and written with great compassion.

'Starred Up' - Dir. David Mackenzie (18)

Muggin' everybody off, and generally causing no small amount of bovva on his cell block, in this gritty British prison movie is rising star Jack O'Connell as damaged, young offender Eric Love - a teenager prematurely moved up to big boy jail because of how violently he behaves. In service of drama, Eric is improbably moved to the same prison, and indeed the same wing, as his equally unhinged father Neville (the always intense and brilliant Australian Ben Mendelsohn) where he comes face-to-face with his past and some the issues which have played a part in his becoming a violent offender in the first place. Without explicitly stating it, there's undoubtedly a history of physical and mental abuse between them that's telegraphed mainly in how O'Connell's body language and demeanor change when confronted by his old man. Apparently known to audiences for his role in teen drama Skins, O'Connell makes an impressive transition to the big screen here: as charismatic as he is frightening and unpredictable.

The central drama concerns how Eric becomes a pawn in a broader game played between a powerful fellow inmate (Peter Ferdinando, who was excellent in the low budget crime film 'Tony'), a crooked and cruel prison warden (Sam Spruell), and a well-meaning volunteer psychologist (Rupert Friend). Friend's psychologist lobbies the skeptical prison establishment to get Eric placed in his self-help group (which they want to see fail for reasons of pantomime vindictiveness), where he can talk through his problems and learn to deal with his emotions without resorting to violence, whilst the prison authorities mostly just want to smash his face in - to the extent where all the police seem like irrational villains. It's the interactions between the various prison staff that ultimately bring the film down, though scenes between inmates (and especially those in Friend's group) are often gripping and compelling.

'The Grand Budapest Hotel', 'Only Lovers Left Alive', 'Nymphomaniac', 'Dallas Buyers Club', and 'A New York Winter's Tale': review round-up

'The Grand Budapest Hotel' - Dir. Wes Anderson (15)

If the move from 'Bottle Rocket' to 'Rushmore' onto 'The Royal Tenenbaums' marked a gentle progression of his style, Wes Anderson's subsequent films - 'The Life Aquatic', 'The Darjeeling Limited' and even the animated 'The Fantastic Mr. Fox' - took the recognised tropes of that style and crystallised it into something that often flirted with self-parody. Then 'Moonrise Kingdom' came along and seemed to indicate a maturation of his by now well established visual motifs, storytelling themes and even the highly stylised performances drawn from his familiar band of recurring actors. It was a refreshing change of pace, which felt paradoxically both less self-conscious and yet more intensely focused. At a first glance his latest, 'The Grand Budapest Hotel', superficially reassembles a return to the larger-scale, ensemble-driven fare that directly preceded 'Moonrise Kingdom', though it's actually a subtle synthesis of the two being expansive, broad, imaginative and, well, grand, whilst also being restrained, focused and tightly wound.

Though bookended in such a way that potenitally makes it a fourth-hand account of events, the film primarily follows Ralph Fiennes as the mannered and enigmatic Gustav H, widely-respected concierge of the titular hotel. After a regular guest and occasional lover (Tilda Swinton) dies in mysterious circumstances, Gustav goes on the run with his faithful lobby boy (Tony Revolori) and - with a big European war looming ominously in the background - attempts to solve the mystery, clear his name and uncover the secrets of her will - the contents of which set of their own chain of murderous events. Even as its focus remains on character detail and small-scale interactions, it's easily the most traditionally plot-heavy of Anderson's films - helping again to separate it from what's come before - and, even if death and grief play a part in all but one of his other movies, it's also one of the saddest - with an overriding feeling of entropy and a sense of sadness at the passing of time.

Fiennes, as the archetypal Anderson protagonist (with a passion for teams, uniforms and all things un-cynical), displays a great gift for comic timing and delivery, fitting in alongside cameos from members of the established troupe - from Owen Wilson to Bill Murray. Though most of the famous faces that dominate the film's marketing campaign have extremely brief screen time, it feels like a calculated use of star semiotics rather than an attempt to boost box office, with recognisable actors imbuing blink-and-you'll-miss-them characters with immediate personality. If a venerable and charming character actor like Bob Balaban pops up on the screen for a moment as an important hotelier it has an effect, and attracts a degree of audience investment in that minor character, that filling the role with an equally competent yet comparatively unknown actor would not. Not to say that's an approach that would suit every movie (sometimes a hotelier only need be a hotelier) but it's entirely appropriate for a Wes Anderson film, where characters are expected to arrive fully formed and to jump off of the screen.

'Only Lovers Left Alive' - Dir. Jim Jarmusch (15)

Languid and atmospheric - with musing about art, literature and music taking precedence over matters of plot - 'Only Lovers Left Alive' casts two supremely watchable actors, Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston, as Eve and Adam, a pair of above-it-all vampires whose love has spanned the centuries. Making the most out of its compelling leads, slick editing and a terrific soundtrack, the combined effect is something that washes over you for an enjoyable two hours without leaving much in the way of a long-lasting impression. That said, it is interesting to see vampires played as these eternal art critics, whose often downright snobbish opinions are invested with an unassailable amount of cultural capital when compared with us mere mortals. You're never going to impress these guys with a boast that you discovered a band before they were popular, because they knew William Lawes and Schubert and are good friends with a still-living Christopher Marlowe (John Hurt).

With their longevity also comes, naturally enough, a nonchalance towards the passage of time and history (and even mortality itself), with a world-weary cynicism directed towards us "zombies" when Adam asks if we've yet started the, apparently inevitable, Water Wars yet. In this version we're the monsters, though not through our violence but through stupidity and ignorance and, worst of all, appallingly bad taste. There's an underlying tension, with violence often a distinct possibility due to the nature of the protagonists, but Jarmusch avoid treading that well-worn path for the most part, instead offering something more contemplative and mood-driven.

'Nymphomaniac' - Dir. Lars von Trier (18)

Technically divided, 'Kill Bill' style, into two standalone parts (volumes I & II), Lars von Trier's 'Nymphomaniac' does not really work on those terms. It's one ambitious, lengthy and typically (perhaps knowingly) controversial movie which only makes sense - thematically and narratively - viewed as a complete whole. In it Charlotte Gainsbourg plays Joe, a self-described nymphomaniac whose lifelong pursuit of love-free sex has contributed to her questioning whether she is a good or a bad person. On hand to judge is a middle-aged virgin named Seligman, who takes Joe into his disheveled, drab apartment after finding her beaten unconscious in a neighbouring alley. Determined to discover why she believes she's such a bad person he insists that she tell her life-story up to that night - interrupted only by his trite observations and strained analogies - and it's this recollection of events (which feature Stacy Martin as young Joe), mostly in chronological order, that occupy the bulk of the film.

Set in a dour and nondescript Northern European country, that seems to be something between England and the director's native Denmark, von Trier tells this story with his trademark mix of uncompromising, gritty frankness and confrontational, occasionally uncomfortable use of acerbic black comedy (one scene with a show-stealing Uma Thurman could easily be a sketch from Chris Morris' Jam). Divided into individually titled chapters, 'Nymphomaniac' uses different scenarios and brings in a number of disturbing and extreme characters to explore a wide range of sexual practices and fetishes, whilst also discussing (or providing a platform to discuss) attitudes towards them.

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

'Dallas Buyers Club' - Dir. Jean-Marc Vallée (15)

Sporadic as posts are on this blog, in the time since I saw 'Dallas Buyers Club' both its lead actors - Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto - won Academy Awards for their respective roles in this watchable but fairly telegenic little biopic, made on a commendably low budget and built almost entirely around the charisma and skill of the two actors. McConaughey stars as Ron Woodroof, a brash, ignorant and oddly likable Texan electrician who's diagnosed with AIDS and given approximately 30 days to live by the local hospital. Heterosexual and prejudice, he is ostracised by his like-minded friends and forced to abandon his old life. Leto plays Rayon - a transsexual Woodroof reluctantly joins forces with as a business partner (and later befriends) after taking it upon himself to increase his life expectancy (and in doing so make a good living) importing effective yet legally unapproved drugs into America from abroad - giving the FDA and American Pharmaceutical industry the finger during the height of the AIDS crisis in the 80s.

Both actors are terrific, with Leto a big surprise after moving away from acting and focusing on his music career in recent years - and he perfectly underplays a role here that other actors might have made bigger or brasher. But it's McConaughey's film with the actor, whose relaxed charm and good looks had so long seen him associated with dire rom-coms, deservedly receiving mass acclaim - as much for his other recent, stunning work as for this. It's a meat and potatoes, by-numbers, "based on a true story" drama in many respects - solid but unspectacular. Though the two headline performances, combined with the extraordinary nature of the true story itself, make it stand out above similar movies of its kind, and its comparatively slender budget makes it admirable.

'A New York Winter's Tale' - Dir. Akiva Goldsman (12A)

After stunning audiences with his complete inability to sing in 'Les Miserables', Russell Crowe has outdone himself again in the shambolic mess that is 'A New York Winter's Tale' with his complete inability to do an Irish accent - made even funnier by the fact he's acting opposite actual Irishman Colin Farrell, who must've been struggling to suppress the giggles throughout the production. Not that Farrell has too much to feel smug about either, after adding this dreck to a dubious filmography that stands as a mockery to the great talent displayed in films like 'In Bruges' and 'The New World'. Joining them on this ignoble quest to shit away the last vestiges of credibility and integrity are Will Smith - whose last big roles came in 'Men in Black 3' and the Razzie-dominating 'After Earth' - who makes an unconvincing Satan and Jennifer Connelly, who confirms the difficulty faced in finding work for actresses in their 40s (even Oscar-winning ones) by accepting the thankless role of "mum of small child", and only turning up when the movies nearly over.

Standing uncomfortably in the middle of all this cinematic horror is poor Jessica Brown Findlay, a young, British actress who actually comes out of this looking fairly good but who probably won't find putting this on her CV a terrific boon going forward. There's far more that's wrong with this tonally inconsistent, shallow and cynical exercise - which spends most its time peddling comforting nonsense about how special each and every one of us are and culminates in a quest to save a sweet, little photogenic child from imminently terminal cancer - but those criticisms can be neatly summed up into a dismissive "everything is total rubbish". Which saves us all a lot of time.

'Her', 'The Lego Movie', and 'The Armstrong Lie': review round-up

'Her' - Dir. Spike Jonze (15)

SPOILER WARNING

You meet somebody for the first time and instantly hit it off. As feelings develop, you nervously pursue a romantic relationship. The early days of that relationship are filled with laughter and a spirit of adventure - you never want to be apart from that person, who now occupies all your waking thoughts. Months go by and you settle into a bit of a muted groove. You get a phone call from that person whilst at work, and they can tell you don't want to talk. It's become slightly awkward all of a sudden, or at least there's a strange distance developing between two supposedly intimate people. Eventually it ends, possibly when one of you has outgrown the other. In Spike Jonze's 'Her', Jaoquin Phoenix's Theodore Twombly experiences something exactly like this with Samantha (portrayed by Scarlett Johansson) - the difference being that Samantha is a sophisticated OS (operating system) rather than a traditional human partner. But the rhythms and patterns and core experience of the relationship seem to be exactly the same in Jonze's non-judgmental and highly plausible account of the not too distant future.

Anyone expecting something broadly critical of our perceived contemporary over-reliance on and obsession with smartphones and computers is in for disappointment. This isn't a piece about the perils of technology, going for trite and easy targets - such as the widespread idea that we don't pay each other enough attention anymore because we're more interested in our Facebook pages. Instead it's a sincere exploration of love as a concept that looks at how this "form of socially acceptable insanity", as Theodore's sympathetic friend Amy (Amy Adams) puts it, works and what it means. If anything, Samantha's status as a non-human - as a more advanced, faster-thinking intelligence - enables the exploration and interrogation of entrenched concepts about the nature of love and traditional relationships. For instance, Samantha's ability to seemingly love potential thousands of people and fellow AIs with equal strength simultaneously (and Theodore's jealousy and indignation at this development) calls into question the possessive and perhaps selfish nature of most human love.

That's not to say the film is completely uncritical of why a person like Theodore - who Phoenix embues with tenderness, warmth and a certain lovelorn, world-weary sadness - might choose to date an OS over a human being. Through interactions with his ex-wife (Rooney Mara) we learn that he has difficulty expressing himself to others in person and finds people difficult, something also demonstrated by his career as a successful writer of other people's letters for the (I hope) fictional BeautifulHandwrittenLetters.com - with letters here almost de-romanticised as a method of communication that permits distance and perhaps even insincerity. That he's apparently a very good and well respected writer of other people's letters speaks to the fact that Theodore is not somebody who has trouble understanding emotions or feeling them, but that his difficulty lies with expressing himself openly. With the exception of a few isolated scenes (and one of those is an awkward date with Olivia Wilde's Amelia), Theodore is generally depicted alone among anonymous crowds or in his spacious apartment. But it's a sort of sun-soaked, almost triumphant isolation that seems extremely appealing, as he casually saunters around a very clean version of Los Angeles.

Perhaps dating an OS is giving him unhealthy permission to retreat further from public life, or perhaps it's the perfect relationship for somebody who's more comfortable keeping people at arms length. Do we all crave a relationship we can switch on and off? That we can put in our pocket and take on our travels? How you feel about that probably depends on your own feelings on technology and its rapid integration with every aspect of our lives, as much as it does your current mood regarding other human beings and the state of your love-life. Jonze certainly doesn't seem to be judging either way with this eerily prescient look at the future of love which, like all good science fiction, has just as much to say about the present day. 'Her' seems to show us a world we might soon inhabit, where complex relationships between humans and increasingly sophisticated synthetic life become the norm - and that's mostly OK.

'The Lego Movie' - Dir. Phil Miller and Chris Lord (U)

The worst thing I can say about Phil Miller and Chris Lord's hyperactive and characteristically gag-heavy 'The Lego Movie' is that the trailers were unquestionably front-loaded with all the best jokes. But that's not really the fault of the movie itself, which is still packed with funny moments, charming characters and surprising Lego character cameos (which I won't spoil here). It's also way more subversive and socially aware than you expect from a movie based on a toy license - with the evil President Business (Will Ferrell) using an army of robotic micro-managers to ensure optimum social conformity. In the same vein, it's a love of chart music and chain restaurants that tips off ass-kicking heroine Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks) to the fact that generic, smiley Lego construction worker Emmet (Chris Pratt) might not in fact be "the special" - a prophesied "master builder" who will restore free-thought and fun to a land oppressed by the tyranny of the instruction manual.

The animation is superb, with Miller and Lord using an almost stop-frame aesthetic to bring the toy world to life, but through CGI doing things you might never be able to do with traditional animation methods. The world is filled with amazing details, like the ocean made to resemble a pattern of tessellating blue and white Lego studs, whilst supporting characters like Benny the Spaceman (Charlie Day) and, yes, Batman (Will Arnett) are given life and personality that defies their limited Lego brick designs. Perhaps the best bit is that, without giving anything away, the writer-directors have managed to not only make a supremely enjoyable animated movie using the visual style and various licenses of the Lego brand, but also a film that is ultimately about Lego itself. Without being at all cheesy or seeming cynically motivated in the least, the film quickly becomes a celebration of imaginative play, creativity and childhood itself, with an enthusiasm that's infectious.

'The Armstrong Lie' - Alex Gibney (15)

Whilst not ostensibly as 'important' as his acclaimed and invariably powerful docs on corporate corruption, WikiLeaks or wars in the Middle East, Alex Gibney's look at the scandal that threw the career and reputation of cancer survivor, humanitarian and former multiple Tour De France champion Lance Armstrong into disrepute is still a compelling watch, whether you care about cycling or not. That's because, in true Gibney style, 'The Armstrong Lie' is more about our willingness (and the willingness of the news media) to be deceived by an appealing narrative than it is about sport and illegal doping practices. A cancer survivor who wasn't expected to make it comes back into the sport he never threatened to be the best at and, not only does he become a champion, but he completely dominates for the best part of a decade. It's a hopeful story about life after cancer and man's resilience in the face of adversity, so heartwarming and inspirational that everybody wanted to believe it.

That's the secret behind the Armstrong lie of the title: in spite of years of investigative journalists uncovering evidence of the athlete's use of performance enhancing drugs, in spite of testimony against him from former friends asserting that he used these drugs extensively throughout his seven Tour wins, and despite his public hiring of an Italian doctor known to be a specialist in developing ways to help cyclists cheat under the radar - he got away with it (to some extent, right up until the moment he confessed on Oprah in 2013) precisely because we all collectively willed it to be true. In his narration, Gibney admits that he was also in the thrall of Armstrong's public persona and larger-than-life success story - willing his subject to win, against the critics and fellow cyclists, during his ill-conceived 2009 comeback to professional cycling (which was originally supposed to be the focus of Gibney's documentary before the truth about Armstrong's use of drugs became public).

Armstrong is an interesting subject who, though he comes across thoroughly badly (in retrospect) in archive footage of interviews and press conferences - as he aggressively defends himself against allegations of drug use to the point where he frequently goes on the attack - is nonetheless an entertaining public speaker and frequently a charismatic presence on camera (for instance, when passionately explaining why kids love bikes). His is certainly a larger than life story worthy of telling, if in reality that's for vastly different reasons than we originally thought. What does seem clear is that the entire sport was rife with doping at the time in which he competed and your sympathy for Armstrong ultimately rests on how much you respect a professional competitor's "will to win" above all else and how much weight the "everybody else was doing it" defence carries.

Ultimately public anger at Armstrong, over and above his perhaps equally crooked fellow athletes, is perhaps completely justified and long overdue. Not only because he used drugs to build a reputation that made him a fabulously wealthy and powerful global celebrity (like no cyclist before or since), but because of what he actively tried to make himself represent and the damage his corruption does to whatever genuinely noble causes he was involved in. Gibney's doc gives him a forum to mount his case and it's one that is selfish, delusional and supremely arrogant. In retrospect the whole thing - the hero worship, the story, the celebrity, the sporting triumph - all seems so hard to believe. Gibney's film exceeds its bounds to become the story of our collective gullibility in the face of attractive mistruths.

'The Wolf of Wall Street', 'Inside Llewyn Davis', and 'August: Osage County': review round-up + A Tribute to Philip Seymour Hoffman

'The Wolf of Wall Street' - Dir. Martin Scorsese (18)

Funnier than most straight comedies, Martin Scorsese's biopic of stockbroker Jordan Belfort is consistently entertaining over its daunting three hour running length. In many ways it's very similar to 'Goodfellas', albeit following a different (less physically violent) type of criminal, but the beats are the same and the same questions remain, namely "why would somebody choose to live this life?" - with the suggestion made that we will all envy the Belfort even as we come to despise him as a human being. And despicable he is. For all the moral panic about the film failing to condemn its protagonist, Scorsese and star Leonardo DiCaprio paint a picture of a charismatic but morally bankrupt figure, ultimately without any real friends or meaningful human connections. He's an out of control, drug-addicted monster by the film's final third, punching his wife (Margot Robbie) and driving his young daughter into a wall. If you think the film doesn't make his life seem unappealing enough, or that it doesn't show the dark and sinister side of his character, then I don't know what version of the film you saw.

The performances are great across the board, with DiCaprio getting to demonstrate a deft comic timing and lightness of touch we haven't seen in years, whilst physically he's also required to do some incredible and very odd things. Yet the star performer is Jonah Hill as his business partner and supposed best friend Donnie Azoff, who owns the best moments and generates the biggest laughs in a film full of them. Matthew McConaughey is typically brilliant in what amounts to an extended cameo at the start and Kyle Chandler is similarly memorable as the straight-laced, incorruptible FBI agent seen in just a few key scenes. I also have to mention how enjoyable and inspired the casting of Rob Reiner is as Jordan's hot-tempered father - a force of nature who blusters into several key scenes to great comedic effect.

It's typically slick and punchy from beginning to end, carried briskly along by DiCaprio's playful narration and it never really stops for air. That Scorsese continues to make such dynamic, exciting and contemporary films in his 70s (long-serving editor Themla Schoonmaker is showing the likes of 'Spring Breakers' how it's done at 74) is quite something and possibly part of what makes his a unique and enduring voice.

'Inside Llewyn Davis' - Dir. Joel & Ethan Coen (15)

A slight and deceptively simple entry into the Coen canon, in the mould of the criminally underrated 'A Serious Man', Oscar Isaac stars here as the title character - a struggling folk singer, moving from couch to couch in the Greenwich Village of 1961. As he bumbles from sometime lover to casual acquaintance we're introduced to a number of strange and variously pathetic and/or unlikable characters, given life by a half-dozen impactful cameos from the likes of John Goodman, Carey Mulligan and Justin Timberlake. In the Coen tradition all of them seen to have some measure of private sadness, whether it's a hidden box of unsold records, a crippling drug problem or a decision to sell-out artistically and settle down in the suburbs. Llewyn is vaguely contemptuous of nearly all of them and yet he is simultaneously beholden to them as he endlessly rotates through his New York contacts for places to stay or people to hitch a ride with.

Llewyn is an interesting character. Superior, aloof and prideful - refusing to sell out his artistic sensibilities, living hand to mouth and playing 'real' folk music with thankless results and no commercial future. A user and a man without responsibility or attachments. Yet he is on occasion, paradoxically, upstanding and decent in his quiet way. Both humble and egotistical. Emotionally detached and yet harbouring his own grief and inner turmoil. A complex and nuanced character perfectly suited to Isaac's intelligent and introspective demeanor. He's not a hero in any sense; he's infuriating and maybe a little pretentious - but he's entirely human. The Coen's get criticised often for not liking their characters enough, but this kind of nuanced depiction of people - with all their faults and idiosyncrasy - to my mind comes from a place of empathy and understanding. I think they understand people very well, but they aren't afraid to admit that we're all basically a bit rubbish.

'August: Osage County' - Dir. John Wells (15)

I imagine a slight variation on this short conversation accounts for every single factor behind the making, distribution and ultimate viewership of 'August: Osage County': it goes "hey, Chris Cooper! We got a great part for you." "Yeah?" he replies "What's the movie about?" "Well, I'm glad you asked, Chrissy boy. It's an adaptation of a stage play about a dysfunctional mid-Western family dominated by a cruel matriarch and rocked by incest, substance abuse and general misery." "Oh, I dunno" replies Mr. Cooper "that sounds kinda interesting but I think I'll pass." "That's a shame, pal, because Meryl was personally extremely interested in you coming aboard with us." "Excuse me? Meryl?" "Yeah, didn't I mention Meryl Streep is taking the lead part?" "Oh my lord! Meryl Streep!? Where do I sign! This is going to be amazing!"

I think that's an accurate transcript of how this film came to be and the sum total explanation of why audiences are going to see it, in spite of the fact that it's a hoary old bag of cliches adding up to a glorified episode of 'Eastenders'. Though it's easy to see why Meryl Streep took the role: she's this out of control, bitchy, shouty monster of a mother, parading around in a bad wig with a drink in one hand and a fag in the other - falling over, maniacally cackling and not so much chewing the scenery as violently chomping it to within an inch of its warranty. It's a role and performance preconfigured to make audiences say "oh, how brave!" And as Meryl Streep sprints over the top, all of the other actors race to join her - most notably Julia Roberts, whose "eat the mother-fucking fish, bitch" rant rivals that bit in 'The Paperboy' (where Zac Efron, Matthew McConaughey and David Oyelowo watch Nicole Kidman masturbate) for shear "oh my god, what am I watching and is it really happening?"-ness.

There's one very nice father and son sequence between Chris Cooper and Benedict Cumberbatch, which is the closest the movie comes to feeling genuine and intimate. Then there's the film's real stand-out performance, delivered by Julianne Nicholson who plays Streep's meek and downtrodden youngest daughter with tenderness, vulnerability and genuine heart. But the rest is all histrionics and 'dark heart of the rural American family' tropes that we've all seen a thousand times before in better movies. Maybe Tracy Letts' play works better on the stage, where hammy excess is often part and parcel of the experience - but this big screen adaptation borders on ridiculous as it goes from one melodramatic family revelation to the next in all its plate-smashing pomp.

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Finally, I've been saddened by the passing of Philip Seymour Hoffman - a man who could legitimately have claimed to have been the actor of his generation. He was certainly one of my all-time favourites and I'm upset that we won't be seeing whatever he might have gone on to do as an actor and director. As an actor he was always believable and could be relied upon to be the best thing in the rare bad movie that he appeared in. He was one of those talents that elevated bad material and made great material really sing. There is no such thing as a bad Philip Seymour Hoffman performance, at least not that I've seen.

In tribute, below are some clips of my favourite of his roles.








A good scene (and great performance) from a less than great movie...

  

And one from the best film ever made...



I'm genuinely going to miss this guy.

'12 Years A Slave', 'Gloria', 'Short Term 12' and 'Last Vegas': review round-up

'12 Years A Slave' - Dir. Steve McQueen (15)

A towering achievement and one, I suspect, that will loom large over the careers of many involved - not least writer-director Steve McQueen and star Chiwetel Ejiofor. The film follows Solomon Northup (Ejiofor) a free and comfortably middle-class black man in the mid-nineteenth century - a few decades short of the Civil War and abolition of slavery - who's tricked into leaving his wife and family in New York to perform as a violinist in Washington DC, only to be abducted and sold into slavery. As you can guess from the title, and the fact Northup later published the memoir upon which the film is based, his ordeal is not quickly resolved and we see this man accustomed to a certain level of respect and hyper-polite, cravat-wearing cordiality in the free north subjected to number of horrific, dehumanizing abuses once he is sold down south - a contrast that underlines much of the subsequent tragedy.

Soon we're, along with Soloman, witnessing the rape of enslaved women, children torn from mothers and sold to the highest bidder, lynchings, and many other appalling acts of brutality. And we see many faces of slave ownership too, from the paternalism and impotent liberal-guilt of Benedict Cumberbatch to the blind hate of Paul Dano, who seems to take great pleasure in beating and tormenting the slaves as a means to reinforcing his own fragile sense of self-worth. Then there's the mercurial Michael Fassbender as the alcoholic and unpredictable Edwin Epps, whose religious fervor and cold conviction that his slaves are nothing more than property makes for an especially nasty villain - even if, like everybody else, he's played with great humanity. Obsessed with Lupita Nyong'o's Patsey, Epps ends up using the film's most tragic character as an unwilling pawn in a domestic feud with his wife, played by Sarah Paulson, leading to several of the film's most shocking single moments of violence. Though there is a sense that all involved are victims (though some unquestionably bigger victims that others) with slavery an institution that ultimately demeans everybody.

Perhaps Hans Zimmer's conventional and overwrought score (sections of which are lifted note for note from 'Inception') is the film's only real weak-spot, with McQueen's use of diagetic music (songs sung by the slaves and Soloman's violin playing) much more genuinely heartfelt and raw than any moment the orchestra comes in. Indeed some of the sustained close-ups and long takes are made all the more memorable and stunning because they take place in complete silence. Though ultimately Ejiofor's performance is so strong, telegraphing a great deal of subtle character change over the film's titular time-frame, that it's difficult for anything to spoil it. '12 Years a Slave' is manifestly McQueen's most conventional and mainstream film to date, with his visual artist background and arthouse sensibilities more keenly felt in the cold and self-consciously difficult 'Hunger' and 'Shame'. What this film does is wed the director's compassion for difficult characters and interest in exploring unpalatable human truths with something more heartfelt and genuinely emotional - something built for an audience.

'Gloria' - Dir. Sebastián Lelio (15)

Paulina Garcia gives a sensational performance as the title character - a beguiling turn that earned her the Silver Bear for best actress at last year's Berlin Film Festival, playing a divorcee who combats feelings of isolation and unhappiness with hedonism and a slightly desperate attempt at romance. It's a perfect character study which is warm and humorous and sometimes even triumphant without compromising the well observed reality of the character and her underlying sadness. 'Gloria' is a particular joy due to its nuanced and atypical portrayal of a middle-aged woman, with the title character multifaceted and shown engaging in activities - such as clubbing, drug taking, having lots of sex, drinking, gambling - usually restricted to the under-40s as far as movies are concerned, none of which are played for easy laughs (as is the case in 'Last Vegas' - reviewed below).

A claustrophobic film, during which the camera never strays away from the protagonist (I'd be hard pressed to recall a single shot Garcia isn't in), director Sebastián Lelio has crafted something deeply compassionate and empathetic with a deceptive lightness of touch. It isn't showy and there isn't a loose scene or sequence in it, instead this is a well-crafted character piece told with great economy and forward drive that plants the viewer firmly in the shoes of its brilliant and quietly tragic central character.

'Short Term 12' - Dir. Destin Daniel Cretton (15)

More interesting when focused on the kids rather than the equally troubled adult care workers, 'Short Term 12' is an earnest and heartfelt American indie drama about a temporary care home for abused or otherwise traumatised youngsters. Brie Larson stars as Grace, a care worker who finds it difficult to listen to her own advice when it comes to dealing with her own difficult, abuse-ridden past, and she has rightly earned plaudits for the role which she plays with charm and great strength. However the stand-out actor is without doubt Keith Stanfield as Marcus, one of the troubled young people in Grace's care, who unfortunately isn't the focus of the film's main plotline even if he steals every scene he's in. It's tough and emotional without seeming cloying or manipulative, though a few strands are resolved a bit too satisfactorily at the end in a way which, though admittedly heartening, feels dishonest.

'Last Vegas' - Dir. Jon Turtletaub (12A)

Simultaneously offensive to older people - with "look! Old people doing young people stuff is funny!" being the film's only gag - whilst nakedly making a run on the so-called grey pound, Jon Turtletaub's nostalgic and sentimental romp is a waste of a fine cast. Featuring a fun and terrifically watchable Kevin Kline, a typically winsome Morgan Freeman, a suitably slick and slimy Michael Douglas and another lethargic, "where do I have to stand?" turn from Robert De Niro, 'Last Vegas' alternates between brash 'lads gone wild' antics, with wet t-shirt competitions, strippers and the dubious spectacle of veteran actors drinking spirits from an ice sculptures nipples, and schmaltzy, safe, judgmental moralising - the effect being that this is neither an "oh no they didn't!" amoral farce or a bittersweet foray into the trials of ageing and the power of friendship, though it obviously wants badly to be both. Falls flat as a comedy and as a drama, leaving a sour aftertaste.

'The Hobbit: the Desolation of Smaug', 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty', and 'American Hustle': review round-up

'The Hobbit: the Desolation of Smaug' - Dir. Peter Jackson (12A)

This second part of Peter Jackson's 9-hour adaptation of what's quite a slender children's book, 'The Hobbit: the Desolation of Smaug' has the same problems as its predecessor bar the songs. It's long, baggy, a bit twee, overloaded with un-engaging CGI chase sequences and full of pointless fan service for Jackson's original 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy, with lots of business teasing the origins of things that ultimately happen in those other films. I didn't like the original trilogy - which feels like the sort of derivative, high fantasy trash Tolkien inspired rather than Tolkien itself - and I couldn't stand 'The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey' either, so I won't spend long writing about this one. You're either a fan or not as this point, I would imagine. What I will say is that this second chapter is a marginal improvement on the first, mostly because there's a really terrific CGI dragon involved. True, you have to wait almost two hours (and sit through a lot of Orlando Bloom) to get to that dragon, but it is pretty spectacular when you do eventually get there.

On the subject of the derided high frame rate version (which plays at 48 frames per second as opposed to the usual 24), I was actually pretty impressed by the technology - even if it made this particular film look over-lit and cheap looking, like something you'd see on an HD TV channel rather than a major Hollywood movie. Perhaps the main benefit of watching the film in HFR was that I didn't get any sort of headache or eye-strain from nearly three hours of 3D movie. The other immediately noticeable boon was the fact that HFR seems to completely eradicate the motion blur which you usually get during sequences that involve fast panning shots with lots of action in 3D films. So basically, as it stands, it's a technology primarily aimed at improving the experience of 3D. I think it's also fair to say that the current cheap looking examples of the technology are far from representative of what it could potentially do if a film is lit specifically with the format in mind, as I'm guessing Jackson's films weren't (due to the fact the vast majority will be experiencing them in plain, old 24fps). I'm betting James Cameron will shoot 'Avatar 2' in this format and that's when we'll see it take off, just like 3D did back in 2009.

'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty' - Dir. Ben Stiller (PG)

The longest, glossiest advert I've ever seen. Ben Stiller's adaptation of 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty' treats its audience with contempt, presenting itself as a completely sincere and resolutely anti-cynical movie, about living life to the full and self-improvement (in the most trite and superficial of ways), whilst bombarding the viewer with the most blatant, in your face product placement I've ever witnessed. Live life: Fly Air Greenland! Live life: order a Papa John's! Live life: eat a delicious Cinnabon! Live life: sign up for eHarmony! All movies feature product placement, of course, but 'Mitty' goes the extra mile of dedicating close-up after close-up to prominently branded drink cartons and suspiciously perfect looking airline food and by having the words "Papa John's" be perhaps the most often repeated in the entire movie with the possible exception of the character's name and (urgh) "the quintessence of life".

Most movies feature, say, a Heineken logo in the background (which this does, of course), but leave it at that. However 'Mitty' - which presumably made a high percentage of its money back from the off, entirely from these deals - folds product placement into the narrative directly and at every turn. It features two entire conversations about Papa John's (more specifically about how there's a Papa John's in Iceland, which is depicted as the only place in an otherwise barren land where people come together), a half-dozen phone conversations with an overly-friendly customer service guy from eHarmony (played by Patton Oswalt) which even features a line about how great service they provide is, a trip to Cinnabon (featuring lines like - and I'm paraphrasing - "you need a Cinnabon!" and "that's a plate of delicious, sugary goodness right there, my friend!") and many, many, many others. It's all just shots of Stiller Living Life(TM) (skateboarding, travelling, fighting a shark, looking at a rare species of leopard, playing football with tribesman etc) which marry the aforementioned products to a broadly appealing lifestyle. "Look at Mitty go", the film seems to cry, "be fun like him! Life is far too short! Travel abroad! Meet people! Buy a Papa Johns!"

These aren't the only problems with Mitty. It's not funny (an example of a 'funny line' Mitty wishes he'd said, to his boss with a stupid beard: "do you know who looks good in a beard? Dumbledore." Zing!) and all the character's imagined fantasy sequences are so over the top ridiculous that there's no investment in them when they occur. The romance plot, between Mitty and Kristen Wiig's character, is perfunctory and unearned, and in many ways a little creepy - barely knowing her when he buys her a young son a gift and then dropping contact with her entirely because a man answered her door one time. Wiig, who I generally like, has the thankless task having to perform an acoustic guitar version of David Bowie's Space Oddity, with a pained expression on her face as if it's the most profound song of all time and she's just written it. Most symbolic of the film's dramatic deficiencies is the "nasty boss" stock character who shows up to downsize Mitty's workplace (played by Adam Scott) seemingly fresh from the set of a pantomime. He's so over the top mean to his employees - and Mitty in particular - that it doesn't relate to the world outside of the film at all. It's all bombast and sentiment devoid of real feeling or anything meaningful to actually say about the world outside of its relentless barrage of well-worn platitudes.

'American Hustle' - Dir. David O. Russell (15)

It's been trailed like a derivative, Scorsese-influenced crime film, but David O. Russell's 70s-set 'American Hustle' is best viewed as a black comedy. Every brilliant performance, every hackneyed line, every haircut, every sequence is a little warped, a little odd - from Jennifer Lawrence doing the housework whilst miming along to Live and Let Die to Christian Bale's pot-bellied, comb-over sporting conman seducing Amy Adams in the lost property room of his dry cleaning establishment. That doesn't mean to say it isn't a decent and occasionally tense crime film, with its share interesting twists and turns in the plot, but it reminded me more of the Coen Brothers than 'Goodfellas', being about a group of variously flawed, morality bereft shysters who are often as pathetic and incompetent as they are resolutely unlikable. It's saying something that Jeremy Renner's charismatic local mayor is the only one of the bunch with any integrity and he's the victim at the centre of the big con.

Horrible people screwing each other over for the most part, but the film's refreshingly kind to the political class, who it depicts with uncommon humanity - with the mayor, as flawed and corruptible as he is, doing everything he can to help his constituents, who he earnestly strives to serve. It's careerist cops and conniving criminals who are shown to be the baddies here (even as protagonists), when we're usually sold the idea that organised criminals represent some sort of fraternity of direct, honest, old fashioned men with a strict code, as opposed to the lying, scheming cads that run the country. Instead when Bale's middle-rung financial criminal and Cooper's upwardly mobile, increasingly unhinged cop clash, there's no code of conduct or pretense of cool - nobody is in control or charismatically playing all the angles and holding all the cards. There's only a kind of ruthless, self-interested, survival of the fittest capitalism in play - and it's conscientious, civic-spirited people who get hurt in the crossfire.

'The Hunger Games: Catching Fire', 'Blue is the WarmestColour', 'Jeune & Jolie', 'All is Lost', 'Diana', 'Nebraska', 'KillYour Darlings'; and 'Frozen': review round-up

Not got a functioning computer at present, so here's some belated reviews as written on an annoying touchscreen keyboard on a tablet... for that reason they will be short.

'The Hunger Games: Catching Fire' - Dir. Francis Lawrence (12A)

The first film in the series was a solid, if unremarkable, adaptation of Suazanne Collins' teen fiction novel The Hunger Games, which succeeded mostly due to the marriage of a highly watchable, young star (Jennifer Lawrence) with an engaging high concept (a dystopian future sees poor communities forced to sacrifice their children to a Battle Royale-style deathmatch, which is then served back to the populace as a gaudy reality TV show) - further boosted by memorable supporting turns from the likes of Woody Harrelson and Stanley Tucci. However, this follow-up - based on the second book in the trilogy, Catching Fire - is much improved, providing a superior dose of hi-octane blockbuster entertainment, cranking up the stakes far beyond just the survival of the principle cast, and doing a lot of interesting world-building along the way.

As with the novels, this is the chapter in which the wider world of Panem is fleshed out and the political ramifications of Katniss' defiant attitude during the last games are explored - and it makes for more interesting viewing as a result. With Katniss now touring the various dishevelled districts of her world as a reluctant, all-conquering champion, the book's first person narrative - and in turn the film's - can now take in a far broader world view. And now that her arena rival/love interest/neighbour Peeta (Josh Hutcherson), well-meaning PR guru Effie (Elizabeth Banks) and alcoholic mentor Haymitch (Harrelson) are established characters she's known for a year (as opposed to sources of varying levels of irritation), there is more room for fun and warmth amidst the story's oppressively bleak setting.

This is a teen-focused blockbuster in which riot police shoot a helpless old man in the head for whistling, in which handsome bore Gale (Liam Hemsworth) is bloodily flogged to within an inch of his life, and in which a frail old woman is corroded to death by a cloud of poisonous gas. So being able to care about the central relationships, and take a certain amount of pleasure in them, is a huge plus. Lawrence is terrific again in the central role, playing a Strong Female Character TM whose strength is not solely found in her toughness and aptitude with a bow, but in the fact she is written with considerable character flaws. She's stubborn, calculating, sometimes extremely cold, but no less a hero, and that combination unfortunately warrants pointing because multi-faceted female characters are still so rare in mainstream blockbusters. Katniss likes bows and hunting and boozing with Haymitch and tormenting her country's sinister president (Donald Sutherland) on national TV, but she also enjoys dresses and hunky boys and adores her young sister. She's a wonderful creation and one that seems particularly well suited to Lawrence's strengths as an actor.

'Blue is the Warmest Colour' - Dir. Abdellatif Kechiche (18)

Loosely adapted from a well regarded graphic novel by Julie Maroh, this tale of the rise and fall of a romance between two young women garnered the Palme d'Or at this year's Cannes Film Festival. Fittingly Steven Spielberg's jury took the unusual step of giving the prize to the lead actresses, Adele Exarchopoulos and Lea Seydoux, as well as director Abdellatif Kechiche, and it's easy to understand why as both are superb. Particularly Exarchopoulos, who plays her namesake Adele over a span of several years - taking her from naive, teenage schoolgirl to lovelorn, primary school teacher, subtly adapting her mannerisms and posture along the way. Seydoux is comparatively under-served by the story - as the blue-haired Emma she's a tempestuous object of affection, as seen through Adele's eyes - but she's nonetheless an engaging presence.

The film's quieter character moments, as Adele deals with the different stages of her relationship with Emma, navigating interactions with her friends and family, are great work. Certainly the two "dinner with the in-laws" scenes, that do so well to contrast Adele and Emma's backgrounds, education, interests and aspirations, all through attitudes to food and parental interactions, are miniature masterpieces. However, the film falls down when it comes to some extremely long sex scenes that stretch the running time in an unfavourable direction and which break from the film's otherwise naturalistic tone by presenting sex in a way which suggests you've stumbled onto Channel 5 post-watershed.

It feels as though (perhaps commendably) Kechiche has sought to confront viewers with a lot of quite graphic sex so as to honestly portray this on-screen homosexual relationship, without presenting this passionate love affair as chaste or being seen to shy away from the subject matter. But that approach backfires spectacularly when sex ends up being presented in such a perfectly posed and idealised way, without a hair out of place or merest suggestion that bodily fluids are involved. As a result it's a far from perfect, Jekyll and Hyde of a movie, that goes disappointingly from intense, emotional and immaculately acted scenes of dramatic honesty to tedious and downright laughable depictions of the physical act of love. Adele Exarchopoulos might have given the year's best performance, but the film itself falls some way short of her greatness.

'Jeune & Jolie' - Dir. Francois Ozon (18)

Perhaps this one's 'Blue is the Warmest Colour' in reverse, as frank depictions of and attitudes towards sex are undersold by a lacklustre drama which feels a little too detached and bloodless. Writer-director Francois Ozon's portrayal of an underaged prostitute named Isabelle (Marine Vacth), whose apparent indifference to love and sexual intimacy leads her to exploiting her obvious sexual power for quick cash (or perhaps in a self-destructive bid to feel something), is certainly non-judgemental and interesting enough to sit through, but there's definitely something missing. A bit of commentary or satire or maybe even a bit of fun.

My podcast co-host Toby King commented that it wasn't trashy enough to have much fun with or serious enough to really satisfy on a dramatic level, and there certainly is a strange tone to the piece that makes me wonder if there's a bit of sly, nuanced humour involved here if you're a native French speaker. Something lost in the translation perhaps? I certainly wouldn't put that past Ozon, a director who usually crafts much more cerebral and provocative films than this, such as this year's incredible 'In the House'. There's an interesting opening shot which sees Isabelle's brother ogling her on a beach through a pair of binoculars as she bathes topless, hinting at something about voyeurism and the gaze of male audience members, themselves invited to gawp at this gorgeous and frequently-naked 22 year-old model, portraying a girl just turned 17. Yet there's nothing in the rest of the film which seems to suggest an ambition to challenge the spectator in any way. Not a failure, but an unsatisfying watch in retrospect.

'All is Lost' - Dir. J.C. Chandor (12A)

I'm generally a great admirer of movies like this. Little movies that feel like exercises in discipline and restraint, with a couple of limited sets and a few characters. Polanski's 'Carnage' was a terrific example last year, with four great actors arguing in a New York apartment for just over an hour. A few years back 'Moon' similarly entertained me with its two Sam Rockwells, old fashioned special effects and the disembodied voice of Kevin Spacey. This time it's veteran Hollywood star Robert Redford alone on a small boat for a whole movie, trying to survive tidal waves and hold off the inevitable suggested by the title. It's a solid premise, backed by a seasoned screen actor - a bona fide movie icon. There's no dialogue or contrived human drama: it just begins with a random accident and we follow the steadily worsening aftermath. It sounds brilliant.

It isn't.

Being a tight, disciplined little movie of this kind only works if you have enough compelling story to tell or enough of a character to develop over 90 or so minutes. 'Moon' packed in a high concept and a devestating emotional twist, to go with an interesting aesthetic. 'Carnage' uses four variously bitter and unlikeable human beings to explore social mores, affectations and middle class hypocrisy, with a savage wit. By contrast 'All is Lost' is, for the most part, a man in tan chinos looking increasingly grumpy as he stares out to sea, eating beans from the tin. Director J C Chandor, who also made the execrable Wall Street drama 'Margin Call' (a film similarly concerned with the plight of the wealthy and the WASPy), has so little to actually say in this film that several different scenes play out multiple times in a way which would be a veritable screenwriting crime in a movie with more business to take care of (note the two identical scenes in which Redford sees a big ship, fires a flare, shouts, and is not rescued).

It opens with a little monologue in which Redford talks about a life of mistakes and wanting to make amends and achieve forgiveness and ends (SPOILER) with a flash of white light as he's (take your pick) rescued by fisherman or taken into the afterlife by God. So there's a bit of strained religious guff in there if that floats your boat - pun very much intended - but otherwise this film, marketed as being about "endurance" and "survival" is really just an extended, unwelcome glimpse into the life of an uninteresting older chap as he looks very confused at sea.

'Diana' - Dir. Oliver Hirschbiegel (12A)

From the director of 'Downfall' comes another drama about the final days of a mad person with a strange cult of personality, as Naomi Watts joins a no-star cast for mass career suicide in 'Diana'. A film so bad and so funny that it caused me to reevaluate my position that so-called "funny-bad" movies don't exist. It's tone deaf (strange Richard Curtis style rom-com that ends in a fatal car crash), absolutely bonkers (Diana becomes a stalker and, at one point, disguises as a scouser she calls Rita Johnson), gravely offensive (British people stop whenever she enters a room and gawp at her, with a maddening degree of reverence. One man even says "cor blimey!"), and very likely entirely made up. "Wall to wall 22-carat bollocks" to quote Watts' Diana, and surely it must be as one of the world's most famous, continually followed people (whose death was perhaps even caused by the hounding of paparazzi) spends every other sequence alone in a London park or wandering around a public hospital talking about how operations are "exciting". At one point she stands outside her lover's house shouting in the middle of the street. I would bet my 22-carat bollocks none of this ever happened. It's pretty funny though. Destined for cult status, perhaps.

'Nebraska' - Dir. Alexander Payne (15)

A late-career highlight in the career of star Bruce Dern, 'Nebraska' sees the veteran actor taking on the role of Woody Grant: a retired, cold and hard-drinking Montana resident who develops an unhealthy obsession with a sweepstakes letter that claims he's due a $1 million prize, to the consternation of his concerned family. After several attempts to walk to Nebraska on foot - in order to collect his winnings from the company that sent the letter - his extremely meek and kind-natured son, played by comedian Will Forte, agrees to drive him to the offices himself. Along the way Grant Snr passes through his hometown, running into old acquaintances and seldom seen relatives, all of whom suggest they are due a portion of his winnings.

Though not written by director Alexander Payne (the film was penned by Bob Nelson) the film has a great deal in common with his other work, being most successful as a low-key character piece. Scenes involving the extended Grant family are especially funny, and feel very true, whilst Dern's guileless, bewildered character becomes heartbreaking as his son uncovers more about his past and compromise of a relationship with his cantankerous mother (played to great effect by June Squibb). It hits a few bum notes along the way, with some of the more outlandish comic beats feeling out of place and with one subplot resolved in a way that jarred against the otherwise affable spirit of the piece, but Dern's performance is something special and there are moments of genuine greatness.

'Frozen' - Dir. Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee (PG)

Taking obvious and direct cues from the recent success of 'Tangled' - arguably the first computer animated movie to really click for Disney Animation Studios following a string of mediocre (and consequently forgotten) duds - 'Frozen' is the tale of a another princess who is forced to grow up locked away from the outside world by her parents. This time, however, there isn't a wicked crone in sight, with this film's kindly monarchs spiriting away Elsa, their eldest daughter (and heir to the throne), because of fear about her magical ice powers. Meanwhile their younger daughter Anna, who's (through no fault of her own) also been raised in this slightly abusive 'Dogtooth'-esque set-up, is a perky, Manic Pixie Dreamgirl type who longs to marry a prince and can't understand why her older sister is so remote and serious. Then the ice powers make a mess of coronation day, people freak out, Elsa runs away and a succession of Broadway-style power ballards of variable quality begin. There's a toyetic talking snowman called Olaf and a reindeer named Sven, because Disney animated musical.

If I seem uncharacteristically dismissive here - given my love of quality animation (which this undoubtedly is) and classic Disney musicals - it's because 'Tangled' and 'Wreck-It Ralph' have raised the bar after years of relative disappointment and 'Frozen' doesn't quite hit the mark. It feels like a nakedly cynical attempt to replicate 'Tangled' and cross it with the runaway Broadway success Wicked (about a good and a bad witch, the latter having been most famously portrayed by Elsa voice actress Idina Menzel). I love a good musical, when the songs hit their mark, but I left 'Frozen' humming the songs from 'Tangled' and honestly couldn't remember how any of the many power ballads went if pressed. That's not to say it's a bad movie. In a disappointing year for animation it's probably the pick of the bunch, at least out of Hollywood's output. It's also fair to say that the ending is satisfying and fairly progressive.

'Kill Your Darlings' - Dir. John Krokidas (15)

Chronicling the beginnings of the Beat Generation of writers and poets, from the early meeting of the key figures up until David Kammerer's murder at the hands of Lucien Carr, 'Kill Your Darlings' focuses on the relationship between Carr (played by the unsettling young Michael Shannon that is Dane DeHaan) and Allen Ginsberg (Daniel Radcliffe) - though it also makes a feature of their friendship with William S. Burroughs (Ben Foster) and Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston). It's solid and unspectacular stuff about a group of interesting people though, as with that recent abysmal adaptation of 'On the Road', it does make all involved seem like irritating pricks as opposed literary pioneers or great wits. That's not to criticise the performances though, with Radcliffe, DeHaan and Foster all putting in a good shift. It's just not that stunning a film, despite revolving around a bunch of 20th Century celebrities and their involvement in a grizzly murder.

There's a little bit of half-hearted stuff here about anti-semitism (Ginsberg is mocked for being Jewish, whilst WWII lurks in the background, as gleaned from radio bulletins) and homophobia (gay men being arrested in clubs and Carr using a hideous "honour killing" law as his defence against having killed his male lover) but it never comes to anything particularly and the film doesn't ultimately feel as though it has a point it wants to make about anything. Just another bit of "weren't the Beat Generation interesting?" guff and, to be honest, I'm starting to doubt that they were...

'Gravity', 'Thor: The Dark World' and 'Hannah Arendt': review round-up

'Gravity' - Dir. Alfonso Cuaron (12A)

It's been a long wait since Alfonso Cuaron's last film, with modern masterpiece 'Children of Men' coming out all the way back in 2006, but at least it's been worthwhile: 'Gravity' is comfortably one of the year's stand-out pieces of cinema. It's an unrelentingly tense amusement park ride of a film that has the courage to wear its heart of its sleeve and which could even revive mainstream 3D from its complacency coma, with perhaps the most compelling use of the technology seen to date. As well as being a showcase for jaw-dropping visual effects, 'Gravity' also shows us a more kinetic and violent depiction of outer space than we're used to, with astronauts smashing into things and endlessly spinning in the void with no way of slowing down. It's perhaps destined to be to the space movie what 'Saving Private Ryan' has long been to pop culture depictions of the D-day landings, acting as a lasting cinematic reference point and a representation of the truth in the public imagination, whatever its actual (and completely irrelevant) scientific inaccuracies.

Essentially 'Gravity' is the story of one human's clawing, panting, sweaty fight for survival against desperately long odds, as Sandra Bullock's Dr. Ryan Stone - a small-town medical engineer with minimal NASA training - tries to avoid being struck by a calamitous cloud of satellite debris and somehow make it back to Earth without a spaceship after her mission goes horribly wrong. Though Stone has some very real, physical challenges to overcome - such as a depleting oxygen supply and the aforementioned debris field - the chief obstacle she faces is her own weary indifference to life itself. The film is about what it takes for this person to make the difficult decision to live when lying down and dying would be much easier - and, even, more comforting. Through various visual metaphors and lines of dialogue we come to see Stone as someone eager to shut all of the world out in some doomed bid to return to the womb: where George Clooney's charismatic, veteran astronaut sees wonder, Stone appears indifferent and complains of feeling physically ill. At its heart this is a small-scale story about an introverted, deeply personal problem - albeit projected onto an epic and exciting story.

I'll perhaps write more about the film and its themes when more people have had the chance to see it. In the meantime I'll just tell you that it had me awestruck, terrified, nervous and thrilled, pretty much for its entire duration.

'Thor: The Dark World' - Dir. Alan Taylor (12A)

Despite the strain of having to serve as the sequel to two different movies and enduring a fraught production history which saw original director Patty Jenkins replaced by TV veteran Alan Taylor, unhappy stars, last-minute re-writes and several rounds of re-shoots - 'Thor: The Dark World' is a pretty decent bit of summer fun. It's not necessarily the most cohesive or consistent entry in the Marvel Studios canon - not as exciting as 'The Avengers', as funny as 'Iron Man 3' or as perfectly formed as 'Captain America: The First Avenger' - but it's still a damn good time at the pictures, mostly thanks to the performances of, and chemistry between, Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hiddlestone as feuding Norse god brothers Thor and Loki.

The film recovers from a fairly pedestrian (and overly serious) first act as soon as the fan-favourite, trickster is unleashed upon the movie in a big way, with Loki and Thor forming an unlikely and completely terrific buddy comedy partnership which (all-too-briefly) elevates the movie to a higher stratosphere. The rest of the film is entertaining, to be sure - especially when supporting characters under-served by the first film come to the fore, such as Jaimie Alexander's Lady Sif and Ray Stevenson's Volstagg - and the action is also suitably exciting throughout, especially during a London-set climax that borrows much from the finale of the original 'Monsters Inc.' to fun effect. It's overall a solid bit of action-comedy fare. But there's no denying it's only when Loki is on-screen that it really feels like anything genuinely special is happening.

So great is Hiddleston's presence in the role that he overshadows everything else that's going on in the movie, relegating Christopher Eccleston's villain Malekith to the role of peripheral irritant rather than that of the desired world-ending threat. His increased presence here also sidelines Natalie Portman and the Jane Foster-Thor love story, which was a hugely enjoyable part of what made the first film tick. It's perhaps no surprise that one Shanghai theatre accidentally displayed a fan-made poster in its lobby, depicting Thor and Loki embracing: their's is the real love story here, albeit one that is tragically doomed. For what it's worth, 'Thor: The Dark World' does successfully feel like a sequel to both 2011's 'Thor' and last year's mega-hit 'The Avengers', addressing how events fit in to the immediate aftermath of both stories in ways that should satisfy fans of the overriding Marvel Cinematic Universe arc. It's an entertaining, sometimes brilliant, often muddled misstep, but one that leaves the "franchise" in an exciting place and will leave fans longing to see what happens next.

'Hannah Arendt' - Dir. Margarethe von Trotta (12A)

This brisk and tightly focussed biopic of the Jewish-German philosopher and political thinker Hannah Arendt, portrayed charismatically and without much in the way of showy affectation by Barbara Sukowa, looks specifically at the period of her life for which she is perhaps most famously remembered: her controversial coverage of the 1961 trial of Nazi Adolf Eichmann in Israel for The New Yorker. Margarethe Von Trotta's compassionate film looks at the ensuing controversy over Arendt's dismissal of the Nazi, who would be executed for his role in the Holocaust, as a petty bureaucrat and as evidence of the "banality of evil": essentially that the greatest threat of society and morality is those individuals who refuse or are unable to think for themselves. Those who hide behind procedures and rules and orders in an unthinking way, paying little interest in the consequences. It's a compelling idea and one that the film explains and explores well.

It's frustrating watching a thinker being chastised by intellectuals and educators for trying to think, as opposed to merely behaving in a reactionary and crowd-pleasing way, yet in showing this 'Hannah Arendt' paints of a picture of its subject as a brave and fascinating genius whose various published works should be eagerly sought out. A German-language film, albeit set in New York with several American actors, sometimes the English language scenes feel clunky, and it does seem to present Israel as some sort of romantic idyll, but overall this is a really interesting drama about the perils and pitfalls of daring to think and of the calamities that await our species should we refuse to. It may be a period piece, but the subject matter is timeless.

'Philomena', 'Captain Phillips', 'Le Week-End', 'The Pervert's Guide to Ideology', and 'How I Live Now': review round-up

'Philomena' - Dir. Stephen Frears (12A)

It's a testament to star Steve Coogan's screenplay (written with Jeff Pope), Stephen Frears' light-footed direction and Judi Dench's nuanced lead performance that 'Philomena' isn't the most depressing film of the year, even if it's still a reliable tearjerker. It's based on the heartbreaking real-life story of just one of many teenage girls became indentured servants to nuns in 1950s Ireland after falling pregnant, many having their babies taken from them by the Catholic church - and sold to wealthy families overseas. It's a story almost tailor-made to provoke outrage, indignation and buckets of tears from an audience - and rightly so, but the strength of this film adaptation lies in its steadfast refusal to wallow. In fact it's frequently quite funny amid the weeping and ruminating on the pros and cons of religious faith, as Coogan - playing journalist and former Blairite spin doctor Martin Sixsmith (upon whose book the film is based) - and Dench's Philomena Lee go on the road in search of the latter's long lost son.

When I say the film looks at the nature of "faith" I don't mean that it does so in that nebulous, infuriating, shallow way most movies use the term - as a byword for all that's good and noble, and insisting that those without "it" are less fully realised individuals. No, 'Philomena' genuinely looks at the nuts and bolts of day-to-day faith and how it can impact on a person's interactions with the world around them, for good or ill. How it can be both a great help to Philomena in her times of need and, in some cases, a great hindrance - giving her lingering feelings of institutionalised guilt and shame where none need exist. Her unwavering Catholicism also prevents Lee from seeing her continued abuse at the hands of the church for what it is, as nuns conspire to withhold information from her and cover their tracks decades down the line. Coogan is restrained and effective as Sixsmith, eschewing anything like Partridge mannerisms or phrasing (something which couldn't be said for his portrayal of Paul Raymond in 'The Look of Love'), whilst Dench just about steals the show creating a compelling, fully-formed character unlike anything she's played in recent memory.

'Captain Phillips' - Dir. Paul Greengrass (12A)

The unlikely hybrid of a hi-octane, shaky-cam Bourne thriller, an Oscar-baiting "true life" drama, and the 'Home Alone' franchise (courtesy of some nifty booby-traps), Paul Greengrass' 'Captain Phillips' - which stars beloved everyman Tom Hanks as the title character and based on his controversial memoir - manages to turn failure, incompetence, regional strife and neo-colonialism into a great American success story. Whereas this year's other Somalian piracy film, taut Danish thriller 'A Hijacking', provides a fairly dry, procedural account of a modern piracy ordeal, mostly focussing on the shipping company board room and their reluctance to lose too much money versus the unravelling mental state/physical health of a crew incarcerated for months on the open ocean, this is (in the pejorative sense I usually stay away from) a very "Hollywood" account of similar events.

There's a selfless hero, punch-ups, gun battles, booby traps, and even little on-ship espionage missions as the plucky crew battle the intruders like an elite counter-insurgency outfit. There's lots of army hardware on show too via lengthy and gratuitous tracking shots of aircraft carriers, shots of marines suiting up for duty, and of army men jumping out of planes for reasons that aren't clear but presented in a way that hopefully looks cool. By the time the climatic half-hour is playing out there're no less than three huge American warships, a squadron of gunboats and an air-dropped platoon of elite commandos versus a tiny (distractingly cute) orange lifeboat manned by four variously rubbish Somalian pirates. It's a bold and unconventional storytelling technique to try and get you to root against the underdog. Maybe this is an accurate account of how it all went down, but it's difficult to stomach all the bluster and bombast regardless.

Though credibly performed by Somali non-actors, the pirates each have one defining personality trait and narrative purpose. There's the angry one who's a potential liability, the delusional leader with a little man complex, the young, doe-eyed one we're given permission to feel empathy towards, and the guy who drives the boat and says or does nothing else of note (poor bastard). Meanwhile our hero is your average all-American ship captain, which we know because of a ludicrous monologue to his wife (Catherine Keener, no less) at the start of the film, which gives us plenty of "life is hard" truisms about the state of modern America to let us know he's just a regular schmo like the imagined audience. For his part, Hanks delivers a fine performance, especially when dealing with the post-event shock at the film's conclusion - even if his Mayor Quimby-style Boston accent comes and goes.

To give 'Captain Phillips' its due it's a technically "well made" thriller with its share of tense moments, though - for me at least - a lot of that tension evaporates once the pirates are off the ship (about half-way through the movie) and the bulk of the crew are safe. Again, 'A Hijacking' is compelling because it's about helplessness and a complete lack of control for a frightened crew effectively abandoned by those in authority, whereas this one's about a single, brave hero - a leader of men - trying his best at every turn to outsmart, outmanoeuvre and out fistfight his captors. It's hard to feel as much concern or empathy for that, especially when Captain Phillips himself is the only thing at stake for more than half the movie. And as the American warships circle, and reconnaissance drones fly overhead, we're all too aware that he comes out OK, because the damn thing's based on his book. That leaves the pirates as the sole "victims" of the film's last act, as we grimly wait to see how the mightiest military force in history will erase them from existence with sick inevitability.

'Le Week-End' - Dir. Roger Michell (15)

From writer Hanif Kureishi and director Roger Michell - collaborators on 'Venus' and BBC TV series 'The Buddha of Suburbia' - 'Le Week-End' is a bittersweet comedy about an old married couple whose kids have finally left home, leading them to go to Paris to see if anything at all remains of their love aside from a pathetic mutual dependency. Played to perfection by Lindsay Duncan and Jim Broadbent, Meg and Nick Burrows are an all-too recognisable middle class English couple, quietly despairing and getting on each other's nerves. Both are charming and infuriating in almost equal measure, though you wouldn't necessarily want to spend any time with these people - especially when they are together. The film's at its best in a quiet and considered first half during which they squabble about hotel wallpaper and ponder which Parisian restaurant to eat in - careful not to pick one that's too touristy. This stuff is nuanced and compellingly watchable.

However, the film suffers from excess amounts of contrived incident and an over-reliance on coincidence, as if somebody at a meeting somewhere along the line decided something more traditionally filmic had to take place for fear we'd all get bored. A compromise in the name of box office that would be entirely in keeping with Michell's half-hearted desire to make the film in black and white that resulted in two versions of the movie appearing in some cinemas (I saw it in colour, for the record). It becomes bogged down by grand gestures, big, public displays, and contrived wacky happenings involving Jeff Goldblum (funny though his appearance here may be) that distract from a very honest and real depiction of relationships that had been taking place up to that point. It ends up feeling like a missed opportunity, though Broadbent and Duncan are reliably brilliant throughout so it's never a slog to sit through.

'The Pervert's Guide to Ideology' - Dir. Sophie Fiennes (15)

Essentially it's over two hours of Slovene philosopher Slavoj Žižek directly addressing the camera, broadly outlining some of his cultural theories in a wry manner for the documentary camera of director Sophie Fiennes. He shows a lot of movie clips to illustrate his points - citing examples of his theories in everything from Nazi propoganda documentary 'A Triumph of Will' to forgettable Will Smith vehicle 'I Am Legend' - and frequently appears in costume on mock sets of various films as he analyses them, but enjoyment of this hinges entirely on one's interest in the nature of ideology - or at least this man's particular take on it.

For my part, with an amateur interest in philosophy, I found it interesting though a little scattershot in approach, darting quickly between ideas before I felt they'd been adequately explained and at times making broad, unsubstantiated statements that could have benefited from a more rigorous engagement with the subject matter. But overall - speaking as someone not previously acquainted with Žižek and not well-read on philosophy in general - it was a decent and illuminating way to spend some time. Though I do know a few philosophy students who thought it was facile and a complete waste of time, so take my view on this subject with a great big chunk of salt.

'How I Like Now' - Dir. Kevin MacDonald (15)

Perhaps Meg Rosoff's original novel is worth a read, with a glance at Wikipedia confirming it's very different from this movie adaptation, but this film is boring, laugh-out-loud stupid and pretty darn cynical in its attempts to milk pennies from the 'Twilight' crowd with its tween romance plotline - with shirtless falconry and well-lit cow-whispering uncomfortably dominating proceedings that otherwise include: children being executed, an atomic bomb going off in London (killing "thousands" apparently), and a grisly rape scene. It also doesn't help that our "hero" Daisy, played by Saoirse Ronan, is a terrible prick for no reason at all (unless we buy into the film's hand wave explanation of "daddy issues") - moving to England to stay with her cousin's and being nakedly horrid to all of them immediately upon arrival in the face of constant kindness.

The tone is jarringly all over the place, the characters make no sense, and the near-future dystopia depicted is lacking in any commentary or satire: all that we're supposed to care about is whether Ronan will be able to continue bonking her hunky cousin once the ill-defined "terrorism" stops. This is a film where a young boy starts swigging alcohol from a previously unseen hip-flask during one supposedly poignant scene and we're not supposed to laugh. It's a film in which the lead character says the title out loud. A film where handsome farmhands display an unexplained - and never again mentioned - ability to communicate with cows, which is brushed off with a shrug and another surly pout from our infuriating, charisma-less lead One of the year's very worst - and I'm a self-confessed sucker for an apocalypse movie.