Chances are if you asked somebody if they'd seen "the film about Facebook" they'd probably think you were referring to David Fincher's 'The Social Network', a film about the site's founder Mark Zuckerberg and the litigation surrounding the origins of his now omnipresent creation. Yet for Fincher's thriller that is perhaps a misleading moniker, with the film actually more of a Shakespearean tragedy about power and betrayal. Really the film about Facebook itself is the documentary 'Catfish', directed by Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman.
'Catfish' follows photographer and brother of one of the film's co-directors, Yaniv "Nev" Schulman, as he receives a painting of one of his photographs done by a talented eight year-old girl named Abby. Nev befriends Abby's mother Angela on Facebook and soon "friends" the entire family on the social networking site. He is particularly taken with Abby's older sister Megan, a model, dancer, photographer and musician, and begins an intimate long-distance relationship with her. However, when Megan sends Nev some of her music he becomes suspicious of the whole family after finding that the clips had been taken off YouTube. Then the documentary turns from taking an innocent look at Nev's relationship with this multi-talented family to trying to uncover the truth behind who these people are.
The reason I suggest 'Catfish' is about Facebook (at least in part) is that, as immediately evident from the Universal logo at the start redone in the style of Google Earth, the film is overtly interested in the mechanics of how we interact online and why. It looks at social isolation and depression as one of the causes of using the web as a tool for escapist fantasy. It looks at the pitfalls of considering the internet as a place to meet people and make real, lasting connections. Also, it showcases the relative ease and sophistication with which people can now fashion convincing, fully realised fiction about themselves - something which 'Catfish' manages to take to its creepy (though not unexpected) conclusion.
The film is not only actually about the phenomenon of social networking and online dating, but it is also interestingly told using the websites themselves. We witness Facebook correspondence, are introduced to people via their "tagged" Facebook photos, whilst Google Earth and Street View are used extensively to establish locations. As the investigation into the truth behind Megan and her family gathers steam, we watch the filmmakers using search engines to research the family, at one point surfing real estate websites in the family's area to verify elements of their story. As much as this is Nev's story, it is also the story of what the internet has become in our lifetime: with the original novelty value of online shopping and news now just a matter-of-fact part of our existence (do-able even on most mobile phones) the internet is morphing into something more voyeuristic and even Orwellian.
Part of the joy of 'Catfish' is the uncertainty surrounding the "truth", so I won't write too much more about it here. Except to say that it is a highly compelling, dramatic and at times sinister film with as many laughs as awkward moments. Some have questioned its authenticity as a documentary, though I was pretty convinced by it. But even if it emerges that it was faked to some degree, I think there is still truth in it as a story that is probably playing out around the world (even if not to this extreme). In the end the film felt a bit like a Louis Theroux film about strange people. Though whereas Theroux is a little insincere and smirky with his subjects, the filmmakers here are actually refreshingly sensitive to the situation as the quest comes to a head. Whatever confrontations occur in the end are reasonable and handled sympathetically. This is where the film is at its best, as it packs a surprisingly emotional punch and tells an ultimately quite tragic story when it could have simply mined the situation for laughs and freakdom.
I never thought 'The Social Network' was the "film about Facebook" its detractors (or quite often those who didn't take time to watch it) tried to paint it as. But now that a film about Facebook is here, and is also very good, that line of argument seems all the more redundant.
'Catfish' has been rated '12A' by the BBFC and can be found playing in select cinemas across the UK. The film is also due out on DVD from January 10th.
Colour me ungrateful, but as much as I am happy to enjoy the capitalist gift-giving rituals of Christmas time I am actually not too keen on celebrating the birth of magical Mr. Christ. So for me the forgettable 'Chronicles of Narnia' film series, based on a set of twee, allegory-heavy children's novels by C.S Lewis, are about as much fun as an afternoon spent in a hot classroom being talked at by an especially pious R.E teacher determined to sex-up the bible for impressionable youngsters.
In these fantasy adventure films, 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe', 'Prince Caspian' and now 'The Voyage of the Dawn Treader', Liam Neeson voices everyone's favourite Jesus-Lion hybrid Aslan and teaches us about the great virtue found in unquestioning, zealous belief and the sanctity of birth-right. (The messiah parallel is less subtle than ever in 'Dawn Treader' as Aslan tells the children at one point, "In your world I have a different name." Wink wink, viewer: can you guess what it is yet?) The first two films starred four, plumy future David Camerons, though that number has been halved for this new adventure as only Lucy (Georgie Henley) and Edmund (Skandar Keynes) return from the original group - as they still have moral lessons to learn from an animal that should, by rights, be eating their gormless faces off. However they are joined by a new young companion in the form of their cousin Eustace (Will Poulter) who is somehow three times as posh and about a billion times more irritating than his relatives.
Eustace (we are told but never shown) is obsessed with all things "logical" and with "facts" gleaned from books, which causes him to reject fantasy and belittle his cousins' fondness for the lovely and perpetually war torn land of Narnia. He represents the evils of science and is Lewis' attempt to win his ongoing theological arguments by ridiculing his opposition. You see, Eustace is never actually logical or intelligent. He's instead a whiny, cowardly imbecile who questions Narnia even when it is right in front of his nose. The whole concept doesn't stand up to the slightest scrutiny: in a world where Narnia is real the logical, even scientific, position would be to accept that. Lewis has turned the tables and is charging that the rational are in fact the irrational. Surely Eustace is a more accurate analogue for religious faith than his cousins? What's more, how is Aslan able to test the faith of Lucy and company, when he is so omnipotent: benevolently powerful at every turn? This film isn't an advert for "faith" but for "accepting that stuff you've just seen is in fact real".
The film's (or the book's) philosophy on things is at best confused and at worst the exact opposite of the teachings of Christ. For instance, when Eustace falls over Prince Caspian (Ben Barnes) quips to Lucy and Edmund: "And you're certain he's related by blood?" Jesus - so we're told by The Bible - used to hang out with the lowest in society and had little time for the rich and powerful. However the Narnia films are quite openly pro-monarchy tales in which the worth of our heroes is assumed to be related to their bloodline as "sons of Adam" and "daughters of Eve". In this sequel its Edmund's turn to repeatedly recite his older brother's self-important catchphrase "but I'm a king!" at every turn. The children, with the possible exception of amiable young Lucy, are complete assholes from beginning to end in every film. We are told they've grown somehow, but there is precious little evidence that the spoilt, bickering twits have learned anything.
Also, wouldn't Jesus normally advocate a "turn the other cheek" policy when it comes to violence? Apparently not in the Narnia films where everything is ultimately resolved with the clanking of swords and the firing of arrows (well, at least before they inevitably summon Jesus as if he's the ultimate form of the Power Ranger Megazord). The film's moral messages are a bit messed up too, as warmongering, anthropomorphised mouse Reepicheep is constantly urging ten year-old Eustace on towards battle and a valiant death telling him to "never turn away from adventure". He could do with reading Dulce et Decorum est or sitting down and watching a thoughtful John Pilger documentary so he can stop being so bloody keen on homicidal acts of violence.
There is an old fashioned mentality that you find in these stories, perhaps not surprising given that they were written in the 1950s. Girlish Lucy spends 'Dawn Treader' wanting to be prettier so she can attract boys, whilst Edmund wants to prove that he's a manly man with a big sword. Perhaps the increasingly tepid response to these film adaptations from audiences is in part down to their lacking any relevance to twenty-first century children? Walden Media certainly won't make their intended fourth installment following 'Dawn Treader' failing to meet even the meagre expectations of 20th Century Fox (who saved the series after Disney canned it in 2008).
But even if you are one of the 468,916 people that "like" God on Facebook (correct at the time of writing) and worship the Narnia stories, 'The Voyage of the Dawn Treader' is a tedious telling of this story. Andrew Adamson made a handsome job of the first two entries, with 'Prince Caspian' quite a polished and surprisingly scary film in places (such as when snarling occultists try to lure Caspian into reviving Tilda Swinton's White Witch). It was also action-packed, with Adamson writing in new battle scenes not present in the ponderous source text. They were also shot on location in New Zealand and around Europe, giving them an epic grandeur. However, Michael Apted has stepped in for the third film and made something much blander. He isn't aided by the fact that a lot of this story takes place at sea and not amidst sweeping vistas, but even when action does take place on terra firma, many of the locations are much more obviously the result of CGI than in the other two films. The result is that even though the set pieces are on a grander scale - with a dragon battling a huge sea serpent around an elaborate galleon on a tempestuous sea at the film's finale - they actually feel smaller and less tangible.
The film's pacing is also amiss, as the characters are each presented with moral trials which are overcome far too quickly and easily, the film just jumping from event to event without conveying any feeling of significance or genuine peril along the way. It also suffers from Apted's decision to replace Eddie Izzard with Simon Pegg as the voice Reepicheep. Izzard brought a debonair, swashbuckling charm to the character in 'Prince Caspian', whereas Pegg's voice work is less sincere and fun. My girlfriend's description of the change was that "because you have the other voice in your head, it just feels like he has a cold or something." That about sums it up. Caspian's voice has also changed, with Barnes presumably told to drop the faux Italian accent his people had in the last film, but whilst this might be sensible in some respects, it does break the films' internal continuity and he returns as an unfamiliar character.
Narnia, as a concept and as a literary world, clearly isn't a place I want to take my imagination. But even with that in mind, it is difficult to see that fans of this series will be too upset when an adaptation of the next book, 'The Silver Chair', is not forthcoming. In truth it's a series that wanted to be a high-profile, fantasy spectacle in the mould of 'Lord of the Rings' or 'Harry Potter' but has ended up feeling more like 'The Golden Compass'. Unlike Potter or Rings, the Narnia films have only a very loose overarching continuity and, with the series' most enduring story ('The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe') over and done with straight away, it seems people weren't really moved to come back for seconds, let alone thirds. Or maybe those people have started going to church for their sermons and not the multiplex? Just a thought.
'The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader' is rated 'PG' by the BBFC and is out on general release.
In 1996 a small group of French Trappist monks were abducted from their Algerian monastery by Islamic terrorists. The monks were later found beheaded, but it remains to this day a mystery who actually killed them. The killings were claimed by The Armed Islamic Group of Algeria, but many suspect (based on French secret service documents) that it was in fact the Algerian army that killed the monks in error. Such a controversial near-contemporary incident, touching on inter-faith conflict and Islamic terrorism, may seem like an obvious set-up for a movie of our current political moment and indeed this horrific episode has now been made into a French language film directed by Xavier Beauvois entitled 'Of Gods and Men'.
Yet rather than focus on what you could (quite crassly) call "the action", Beauvois film takes a slower, more introspective and intellectual approach. He chooses not to dissect the incident itself, and the controversy surrounding the fatal final moments (stopping short of showing them altogether), but instead details the weeks leading up to that event as the monks discuss whether to stay in the monastery or go back to France in the face of the escalating tension in the region. It is a film of thoughtful pauses, haunting Gregorian chants and long, earnest conversations about ethics. 'Of Gods and Men' is not a film that states an overt ideological position, but instead it is about the nature (and perhaps the practicality) of ideology itself.
In it similar questions are raised as were earlier this year in Claire Denis' post-colonial drama 'White Material'. In that film a white family decides to stay on their African farm in the face of Zimbawbwe-style ethnic tension, placing themselves in clear danger. Both films ask us to contemplate where the line exists between stubbornness and bravery, between principle and stupidity. But whereas Denis' film seemed to be critical of its subjects (who were either willfully ignorant of the severity of their situation or else completely mad) in 'Of Gods and Men' the monks are portrayed sympathetically and their ultimately fatal decision to stay put is explored in a calmer, more rationalised manner. Though whether that makes the monks actions any less foolhardy is left to you to decide.
The seven monks are played brilliantly by an ensemble of terrific French character actors and the dynamic between the men is nuanced and rich. Each man has his own reasons for staying put and you sense that not all of them are grounded by their religious belief as much as by a mixture of peer pressure and loyalty to their fellow monks. One monk reveals that he will stay because he has nobody else outside of the monastery, having given up his old life to adopt the religious lifestyle. Other men (like Michael Lonsdale's affable doctor Luc) seem too frail or ill to move on. At least at first, it is really only the de facto leader of the group Christian (Lambert Wilson) who seems to be resigning himself to the idea of martyrdom born from an uncompromising sense of moral conviction.
Christian ponders the morality of every decision he makes. He refuses the offer of armed guards for the monastery so as not to align himself with the "corrupt" Algerian government (a decision he comes to without consulting the others) and telegraphs his obvious reluctance to shake the hand of a guerrilla leader even if it will buy the group some temporary assurance of protection from harm. When told at gunpoint to give up all the monastery's supplies and medicine, he refuses. "You have no choice" he is told. He replies calmly with the film's key line: "Yes I do." To what extent do we have choice? Is Christian blinded by a self-righteous sense of faith that will doom his religious brothers needlessly? Or is his adherence to a strict moral code something which assures their eternal salvation? Those are some of the questions posed by 'Of Gods and Men' and there are probably many more. Your answers to them may depend on your feelings on religion and the concept of moral absolutism.
Any good film is a film of ideas, even if those ideas are transmitted through seemingly disposable entertainment. But rarely are films so consciously about ideas whilst remaining so unpretentious. Usually a film's "hero" is motivated by a desire for material wealth, love, revenge, power or survival. Christian and his brothers desire none of these things and as a result this is a rare film where the goal is to determine the worth of principle. The fact that it does this so compellingly for just over two hours is nothing short of astounding. Especially as there is nothing in the way of light relief or humour. Another of this year's outstanding French films, 'Lourdes', was similarly slow and thorough in its exploration of faith and morality, but did so with an element of satire that is wholly absent here. Yet 'Of Gods and Men' assuredly manages to command our attention whilst being unrelentingly po-faced.
'Of Gods and Men' lives up to its billing as one of the year's strongest films, with its sombre, contemplative mood as captivating as it is a profoundly moving experience, reaching a creshendo as the monks' tearfully listen to Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" on the eve of their final trudge in the snow. As they disappear from view and into the mist, we are aware of their fate and you suspect that they are too. In a film that doesn't shy away from showing violence, in one startling and visceral instance, it is even more commendable that Xavier Beauvois chooses to leave the ultimate and most obvious question of "what happens next?" up to historians. In 'Of Gods and Men', what we think about what happens is more endlessly facinating than the event itself.
'Of Gods and Men' is rated '15' by the BBFC and was released in the UK on December 3rd.
There is something Spielbergian about Finnish horror-comedy 'Rare Exports'. The fact that the action surrounds a mountain brings to mind 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind', whilst the film's child protagonist Pietari (Onni Tommila) is reminiscent of the child from... well just about every family movie the director has ever made. However, the films that it most resembles from the Spielberg stable are not those he directed, but those anarchic and violent family films he produced in the mid-80s: 'The Goonies' and 'Gremlins'.
As with 'Gremlins', in the UK 'Rare Exports' has been hit with a '15' certificate. Which is a shame because, although there is a little swearing (though not as much as the apparently kiddy-friendly 'The King's Speech' which got a '12A'), some violence and some nudity, 'Rare Exports' is essentially a children's story. It is a coming of age tale which sees Pietari making the gradual change from a scared boy to a young man. It has a dark aesthetic and a macabre sense of humour, but nothing that would be out of place in the world of those Spielberg films mentioned. Like the title suggests, it is also a rare phenomenon: a good Christmas movie.
'Rare Exports' is the first feature film by Jalmari Helander, who has expanded on an idea which he first gave life to in a couple of short films: 'Rare Exports Inc.' (2003) and 'Rare Exports: The Official Safety Instructions' (2005). The film is a sort of prequel to those shorts, which took a comical look at how hunters in Lapland track down and capture wild and dangerous Father Christmases in order to train them for safe export around the world. Many of the original cast return for the feature, which shows how they originally discover the homicidal, rampaging Santas after they are unearthed from an icy tomb deep within the Korvatunturi mountains by a team of American archaeologists.
As with the short films, Santa Claus murders whoever he suspects is naughty. He also, in a twisted re-imagining of the folklore, eats little children - a fact which young Pietari learns from some old books and which terrifies him into taking precautions, including fashioning his distinctive suit of padded armour. When the boys and girls of the village go missing, it is up to the boy and his father, a reindeer hunter, to rescue them. There is a father-son subplot at work here, but unlike that in 'Tron: Legacy', it feels like more than a functionary narrative device. The relationship between Pietari and his father (Rauno played by Jorma Tommila) is in many ways the film's real focal point, with two thirds of 'Rare Exports' focusing on the way they interact with one another and featuring very little action. What action there is takes place in the final twenty minutes and is brilliantly exciting and funny.
'Rare Exports' has been likened to the early work of Tim Burton and it isn't difficult to see why with the film feeling like a dark, contemporary fable in a similar vein to 'Edward Scissorhands'. In the illustrations of ancient Santas devouring children, it is also possible to detect traces of Guillermo del Toro's 'Pan's Labyrinth'. Yet Helander's preference for humour which combines the sinister and the silly is more like something out of a Roald Dahl book. In fact the dishevelled Santas themselves, rake thin and with unkempt beards, look like Quentin Blake illustrations come to life.
The concept of these wild 90 year-old men running around the woods ripping people to shreds is the stuff of black comedy in itself but Helander adds to this some brilliantly funny ideas which help to elevate 'Rare Exports' above being another exploitative horror-comedy: Santas can be distracted by feeding them freshly baked ginger bread cookies; among the things they consider naughty (as well as the likes of smoking, drinking and swearing) is people who haven't washed behind their ears; and in order to ward off Santa, Pietari sellotapes and then staples shut the penultimate door on his advent calender. There are loads of other great ideas which I won't spoil here and also some very funny lines of faux action movie dialogue.
'Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale' is practically begging to become a cult seasonal favourite. If it were Spielberg produced and directed by Joe Dante then it would probably have already found that audience - one that might, sadly, be excluded by the film's being in the Finnish language (notoriously one of Europe's least widely spoken and least accessible tongues). It will also be limited by the fact that some of its content (which includes matter of fact nudity as a Santa takes a shower) will prevent children from being able to see it in more conservative countries like the UK, which is a pity.
It's admittedly not a film for very young children, but it certainly has more appeal for the under-15 crowd than 'The King's Speech' and is arguably less violent than a lot of recent "tweenage" blockbusters which boast lower age ratings. And whilst the likes of Michael Bay's 'Transformers' series objectify women and indulge in horrible racial stereotyping for a '12A' audience, 'Rare Exports' is actually a pretty savoury story about a young Finnish boy growing up, abandoning his tattered teddy bear and proving that he has more courage than his bullying peers. What's wrong with that? Don't bother to ask the increasingly inconsistant likes of the BBFC.
'Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale' is out now in the UK and playing at the Duke of Yoir's Picturehouse in Brighton. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.
It seems that 2010 is the year when Hollywood decided all 1980s entertainment properties needed to be re-tooled for the modern age. We've already had 'The A-Team', 'Clash of the Titans', 'Predators' and 'Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps'. We also got Sylvester Stallone's nostalgia reliant, berk-fest 'The Expendables'. Now it seems it's Disney's turn with 'Tron: Legacy', a sequel to the 1982 movie 'Tron' which explored, using then pioneering computer effects, what happens when you zap Jeff Bridges into an arcade game.
Whilst the original now has a certain campy charm, with its fluorescent world of all-in-one jumpsuits, it certainly isn't "cool" in a conventional sense (if you're in doubt, see YouTube phenomenon "Tron Guy"). By comparison, this sequel has re-imagined "The Grid" (the world inside the computer) with the aesthetic of an especially chic, modern car ad. Like the swanky flat of a Soho trendy, it's a world characterised by clean, minimalist designs and set to a pulsing Daft Punk soundtrack. Watching 'Tron: Legacy' is like spending two hours in an exclusive night club, only here your headache comes as a result of RealD 3D glasses and not as a result of too many blue After Shocks (though if 'Tron: Legacy' were a drink, you suspect that would be it).
Fittingly for a sequel that's 28 years late, 'Tron: Legacy' picks up some years after where the original left off. Jeff Bridges' game designer and arcade owner Kevin Flynn ended that film as head of ENCOM, the shady company that had stolen his computer programs. Apparently between the two movies Flynn fathered a son, this film's protagonist Sam Flynn (Garrett Hedlund), and promptly disappeared leaving Flynn the younger desperately in need of a father - a role filled by Alan Bradley, his business partner and designer of "Tron" (an independent program and hero of The Grid).
Bradley is again played by Bruce Boxleitner who, with his distinguished grey hair and glasses, resembles a sort of budget Richard Gere. 'Tron: Legacy' begins with an aimless Sam Flynn pulling a juvenile prank on the board of ENCOM (now re-cast as a sinister analogue of Microsoft) after which he is visited by Bradley who, after giving a half-hearted ticking off, tells Sam that he has received a mysterious message on his pager, apparently from Sam's father. After this revelation, Sam is persuaded to visit his father's old arcade, where he finds a hidden room which teleports him onto The Grid via a laser beam.
Once there Sam is promptly undressed and more appropriately attired by what look like a gang of automated perfume counter saleswomen. (Wearing vaguely exploitative sci-fi clothing and ridiculous high-heels, the women are literally objectified as they walk out of sockets in the walls to cater to Sam's needs.) He doesn't know it, but he has been prepared for "games": iconic events directly lifted from the original film and then improved infinitely by current computer effects (as well as this new film's sexed-up styling).
The discus throwing duels now take place in a glass box, suspended in the air and ever diminishing in size as the flying discs smash it to bits. The computer world's liberal grasp of physics means that the duels are enhanced further as fighters are able to run around the walls and across the ceiling as they smash things up. The discs themselves are now not only thrown but also used in hand-to-hand combat and the defeated combatant no longer turns into a cosy beam of yellow light but crumbles into thousands of tiny pixels, in the film's most eye-catching effect. Likewise the "Light Cycles" of the original have been given the Tron 2.0 treatment, now operating in a multi-tiered, translucent arena, with riders now combining the ultra-sleek future bikes with their discus. The result of these changes is set pieces that easily surpass anything seen in the original. Though sadly they are few in number.
Although the original film was considered something of a flop back in its day, Disney have clearly pitched this film to a young audience seeing this sequel as a fully-fledged franchise re-boot with the ambitious cross-promotional platform for the movie including a video game, an animated series and, of course, the Daft Punk composed soundtrack album. But whilst "the kids" will want to see Sam to smash people into little blue bits with his discus and ride around in a cool, neon motorbike, what they will actually see is a few imaginative and high-octane action sequences buried amongst drawn-out scenes of plot exposition, flashbacks and parent-child angst as Sam catches up with his aged father.
Kevin Flynn, it transpires, has been trapped within the program since his sudden disappearance all those years ago and the role is reprised by Jeff Bridges. There is, naturally, a romantic sub-plot for young Sam which springs from nowhere in particular, as Quorra (Olivia Wilde) emerges as our hero's capable companion. Though whilst Wilde is fun to watch and delivers her lines with a disarming playfulness, in truth she is given little to do. Also underused is Jeff Bridges himself, with Kevin Flynn's Grid-bending powers (as seen in the first film) used far too sparingly.
Bridges appears as two characters in 'Tron: Legacy'. He is of course Flynn the elder, who has become more like "The Dude" of 'The Big Lebowski' since we last saw him (he now ends most sentences with the word "man" and at one point exclaims "radical!"). But he is also CLU - a program version of himself that he created to oversee The Grid in his absence and the film's villain. CLU is a CG motion captured version of Bridges, meant to closely resemble his appearance in the original film. It is a bold move to use CGI to animate a human character in a live action film, where he must appear alongside actual people, and the film almost pulls it off. Yet you can't help feeling that he's rolled into town on the Polar Express and doesn't belong. There is something not quite right about it. It doesn't help that the first time we see this effect, it is used to portray the real, younger Kevin Flynn interacting with his son outside of the computer world. Though it is unquestionably state of the art for now and the idea itself - of the young and old Bridges facing off onscreen together - is compelling enough for Disney to have taken the gamble. I'll say this for it: the more you see the effect the less weird it seems until by the end of the film you've accepted the whole thing.
You certainly won't get laughs from the one sequence in the film intended to be purely comic, which falls embarrassingly flat as Michael Sheen (no stranger to camping it up) makes an appearance as an effete nightclub owner in one horrible car crash of a scene. He plays air guitar with his cane, dances about and shouts ridiculous things throughout one fight, seemingly on a one-man quest to ruin the entire film. I hope it was worth it Sheen (though I guess it's at least a step up from 'Underworld: Rise of the Lycans' and 'Twilight: New Moon'). Thankfully, Jeff Bridges does manage to come out of things with his credibility in tact. Especially when he sees his son for the first time in years, as he delivers his lines with almost tear-inducing sincerity above and beyond the writing.
'Tron: Legacy' has the distinction of being the first film since 'Avatar' to use that film's high-end 3D cameras - with every other major 3D release of 2010 subject to a controversial post-production conversion process. As a result the 3D is better than that seen in the likes of Disney's own 'Alice in Wonderland' and seems to suffer less from motion blur than any other live action 3D film I've seen. Perhaps this also has something to do with the less busy visual design of the Tron world, which may have been designed as much with 3D in mind as anything else.
Though for all the polish, as with every other 3D movie I've ever seen, I forgot it was in 3D after twenty minutes of watching and its most positive attribute was that it was subtle and unobtrusive in its use of the extra dimension. All of those words of faint praise lead to the obvious question: "what was the point of it all then?" (aside from the bump in ticket prices and security against piracy).
Unlike some of those other denizens of 1980s popular culture recently thrust into renewed relevance, 'Tron: Legacy' is a sequel nobody asked for, to a film that I suspect nobody below the age of twenty-five even remembers. With a week to go before its release I find it hard to imagine that it can be anything like the hit that Disney needs it to be in order to consider it a success. Who exactly is it for? It's too slow (and possibly too complicated) for young children, whilst it's a little too juvenile for adults. It looks and sounds excellent and it would not be any kind of scandal if it picked up a few technical awards in the new year. Plus there are two or three genuinely awe-inspiring set pieces and some really imaginative touches here and there.
But the central problem is that the world of Tron, which must have seemed so exotic to those who went along to the cinema in 1982 when computers were young and promised a world of seemingly infinite possibility, now seems to raise too many questions (with "why are these programs people?" the first among them). It is even a sequel that beats its original, yet baring in mind the limitations of the original 'Tron' that is no exceptional boast. Yet in spite of 'Tron: Legacy' being in many ways so deficient, I'll be sad if it tanks at the box-office. Disney have taken a massive gamble and, in Hollywood especially, that sort of daring should be rewarded. Also, Light Cycles are pretty cool.
'Tron: Legacy' is out on December 17th and is rated 'PG' by the BBFC.
The last decade hasn't been especially kind to the Disney animation fan. The annual triumphs of the folks at PIXAR aside, the in-house output of Walt Disney Animation Studios has been lacklustre as the once dominant studio have struggled to remain relevant in the 'Toy Story' inspired age of computer animation. Prior to this year, the 2002 film 'Lilo & Stitch' was probably their last genuinely good feature. Then, after the commercial disasters of 'Treasure Planet' and 'Home on the Range', Disney began making their own forgettable computer animations: 'Chicken Little', 'Meet the Robinsons' and 'Bolt'. Things seemed bleak until, earlier this year, Disney restored a lot of faith with 'The Princess and the Frog' - a return to the type of hand-drawn animated musical which defined the 90s renaissance - which did well with critics and at the box office. Given this success, it seemed a shame that their next film 'Tangled', an adaptation of the Rapunzel Grimm fairy tale and the studios 50th feature, would be yet another computer animation... and in 3D.
But as with buses, you wait for ages only for two to show up at once. 'Tangled' is brilliant, possibly better even than 'The Princess and the Frog' and certainly one the best Disney animations of the last ten years. Unlike the studio's other computer animations, which lacked any real character and seemed to bear little relation to the Disney style of old, 'Tangled' feels exactly like a 1990s classic in the mold of 'Beauty and the Beast' or 'The Hunchback of Notre Damme': in terms of the film's design, the quality of the animation, the timeless appeal of the source story and with the songs composed by Alan Menkin. Like all classic Disney the pacing is exactly right too with action, gags, musical numbers and romantic sequences all balanced well, leaving the whole thing feeling like an example of perfect story telling economy. Uncle Walt himself would approve.
This telling of the Rapunzel story has it that the titular girl's long, blonde locks possess magical healing properties. It is for this reason that she is stolen from her parents (here a king and queen) as a baby and spirited away to an isolated tower by a vain old hag named Gothel, who wishes to use Rapunzel's hair to keep herself forever youthful. Running parallel to this story is that of Flynn Rider, a scoundrel who has stolen a valuable crown from the palace in his latest daring heist. On the run from the guards - and from a couple of gangmates whom he betrayed - Flynn stumbles upon the tower and is soon a bewildered Rapunzel's prisoner. Rapunzel, who has been told that the outside world is far too dangerous for her, hides Flynn's valuable prize and forces him to escort her safely out of her tower so she can see the world outside. Gothel comes back to find she has gone and pursues, whilst Flynn continues to evade the law.
If I was surprised to find a computer animated in-house Disney film of this high quality, then I was even more surprised to find that it was in many ways technically the most advanced computer animation I've yet seen - dare I say it, even surpassing PIXAR. The lighting, water and fabric effects are staggeringly well done in 'Tangled' as is, perhaps unsurprisingly, hair. Though the charm of character animation is what really sets this film apart, so in keeping is it with the studio's traditions: a transformative melding of the old with the new. Generally human people look best in animated films if they are heavily stylised, whilst realistic people, such as those seen in the ugly rotoscope animations of Robert Zemeckis ('The Polar Express', 'Beowulf' and 'A Christmas Carol'), suffer from the uncanny valley effect and look unsettling and unappealing.
PIXAR have had their own trouble with this in the past: when we see people in the original 'Toy Story', they are stiff looking and unconvincing. It took almost ten years before they felt confident to make their first feature length film about recognisably human characters, 'The Incredibles' in 2004, and then they were highly stylised caricatures. Tellingly for 'Wall-E' PIXAR chose not to animate the film's recognisably "human" character at all, and instead used a live-action actor, only using computer animation to bring to life the devolved, more cartoonish, future humans. Similarly, for 'Tangled' the approach has been to create cartoon characters rather than humans, but even better than that: unlike those present in 'Meet the Robinsons' (who could sit comfortably in a Nickelodeon TV series) these are recognisably Disney creations. These characters go well with the bright and lush world in which they are placed, with its blue skies and green grass and the design of the whole picture manages to create a vibrant fantasy kingdom that feels as though it has burst from the pages of a Grimm fairy tale, very Disney whilst definitely retaining something Gothic at its core.
Rapunzel herself (voiced by a disarming Mandy Moore) is wonderful to watch, the picture of girlish "cuteness", with her disproportionate eyes in her huge head. She is an incredibly expressive and entirely likable creation, and one of the most fun Disney princess characters. She is sharp, funny and, as is typical of the modern heroine, extremely feisty. Her "prince" is equally good to watch. Voiced by Zachary Levi, Flynn Rider narrates the tale and is our post-modern anti-hero. He refuses to sing and dance and isn't taken in by all the warmth and sentimentality. If Rapunzel is a less helpless version of Belle or Ariel, then Flynn is Aladdin combined with the more recent Prince Naveen. He is quick-witted and agile, stealing to survive (and for sport), but he is also extremely narcissistic. With Naveen in 'The Princess and the Frog' and Flynn in 'Tangled', Disney have successfully rejuvenated the once dull "prince" character, so long considered a thankless task among animators.
The obligatory, toyetic animal sidekick characters - a violent, yet cowardly chameleon and a determined and moralistic white horse - are likewise superbly well animated. Particularly the horse, who is terrifically funny with his proud stride and his vendetta against Flynn, whom he hunts prodigiously. 'Tangled' allows itself some truly silly moments no longer really seen in animation as things have become more sophisticated and less exaggerated. In one scene Flynn has a sword fight with the horse, turning to Rapunzel and saying proudly, "You should know that this is the strangest thing I've ever done!" Whilst another very funny sequence sees a group of murderous ruffians burst into a brilliant song called "I've Got a Dream", in which they all state that they'd rather become interior decorators or concert pianists than tough fighters. It is a song that recalls Howard Ashman's lyrics for "Gaston" in 'Beauty and the Beast' as much as the animated sequence channels Monty Python and Mel Brooks.
Then there is the evil Gothel, who Rapunzel believes to be her mother for the majority of the film which leads to an interesting dynamic between them - one that seems to be of very genuine love between the hero and villain. Gothel is one of the most properly horrifying Disney villains. After all, she abducts a child whom she keeps locked in a tower for eighteen years. Also the fact that her power is derived from years of manipulation and brainwashing is far scarier a concept than magic or violence.
'Tangled' shares one of its co-directors, Byron Howard, with Disney's last computer animated, 3D film 'Bolt' and, like 'Bolt', the use of 3D in 'Tangled' is restrained and tasteful rather than eye-popping. With the exception of some floating lanterns, things are rarely made to fly out of the screen at you and instead the extra dimension is employed to allow depth. As with 'Bolt' 3D is also occasionally used to make self-referential jokes (it is harder for a chameleon to hide in a 3D cartoon than a 2D one after all) but this is still not done so overtly as to be distracting. Does this film need to be in 3D? Of course not. Nothing needs to be in 3D - or at least nothing worth watching. But the 3D does add depth and, for the moment at least, is still a fun gimmick when used with animated films (live action 3D tends to give me a headache and the motion blur is awful during action).
For years I've been a hand-drawn snob who felt that by going over to computer animation Disney had lost their way - along with all of their charm. 'Tangled' has won me over wholeheartedly, putting a recognisably Disney style into computer animation for the first time. If they keep this up, the studios identity crisis might finally be over and the problem of differentiating Walt Disney Animation Studios from their more lauded cousins PIXAR might finally be solved. I'm still glad to see that Disney have hand drawn projects in the works, as next April sees the release of the beautiful looking 'Winnie the Pooh', for instance. But now I don't think the studio's future depends on taking that old fashioned route. In fact alternating between computer animation and hand-drawn (hopefully as material warrants) might keep both art forms from out staying their welcome a second time on Disney's watch.
'Tangled' is released in the UK on January 28th 2011 and has been rated 'PG' by the BBFC.
Let me get one thing out of the way at the beginning of this review. Yes, it is indeed impressive that young British director Gareth Edwards has made his debut film, the sci-fi, road movie 'Monsters', for reportedly less than half a million dollars. More impressive still is that he not only wrote and directed the film, but acted as his own cinematographer and even did all the films digital effects at home on his computer, apparently using relatively affordable software. This is indeed laudable, and points towards a future where big, special effects blockbusters may be made by indie filmmakers just as well as by big studios. And what a future that could be. Imaginative filmmakers with epic visions who constantly find themselves restricted by the commercial interests of the studios (such as Alex Cox and Terry Gilliam) might be able to make the kind of ambitious films they always wanted to make.
Gareth Edwards is not alone in thinking big with limited resources. Uruguayan amateur Fede Alvarez made headlines last year by earning himself a big Hollywood contract after achieving success on YouTube with his four minute short film called 'Ataque de Panico'. That film also had a big sci-fi concept which would usually cost more than that short's stated $300 budget, as it depicted giant robots attacking Uruguay's capital city of Montevideo. Earlier in 2009, Canadian brothers Ian and David Purchase achieved a huge internet following with their short film adaptation of the Half-Life 2 video game, 'Half-Life: Escape from City 17', which also boasted impressive effects and a sense of scale on a meagre budget. Video games have inspired countless others too - including polished fan film versions of Pokemon and Street Fighter - but the highest profile one saw 'Fame' remake helmer Kevin Tancharoen shooting his own D.I.Y Mortal Kombat short in an effort to pitch a full movie to studios. No doubt the the box office success of 'Monsters' will inspire a few more on a feature length scale and this can only be a good thing.
However, forget for a second the film's low-budget and other indie credentials (it stars Scoot McNairy of 'In Search of a Midnight Kiss' fame alongside a supporting cast of non-actors) and what you have in 'Monsters' is a fairly unfulfilling film which didn't satisfy me as a creature feature nor as a relationship drama.
The plot is as follows: a photojournalist (Andrew played by McNairy) is asked by his boss to escort his daughter (Samantha played by Whitney Able) from Mexico back to her home in the United States. After missing the last boat back, the pair decide to embark on the journey by land. This would sound like a simple enough trip. Except this story is set in the near future, where the land between the newly drawn borders of Mexico and the USA is the "infected zone" - home to extraterrestrial creatures accidentally brought down to Earth by a malfunctioning NASA probe. Worse still, the infected zone is under constant bombardment by the US Air Force, who carpet bomb the whole area to keep the aliens at bay. As you'd expect with such a modest budget, the aliens are very rarely seen and instead the film is more focused on the dynamic between Samantha and Andrew.
This would be fine if either of them were interesting or if they ever had anything interesting to say. 'Monsters' is suffocated by constant exposition with people saying things like "so let me get this straight: we have 48 hours to get to the coast" and when we aren't having things we have just seen and heard simplified for us we are forced to spend our time in the company of a couple of morons. Andrew has, he tells us, seen the corpses of the aliens before on several occasions. The creatures are also on the television news or caricatured by informative children's cartoons whenever we see a television. The duo are aware they are heading through the infected zone, as a great many sign posts tell them so. They see the destruction of areas affected by the so-called monsters. Yet when confronted by them they are forever shouting (and I mean shouting) "what the hell is that thing", over and over and over again.
This heavy-handed moralising about the modern world continues into the films 'Avatar'-like eco message and in its meaningless symbolism as the American troops at the beginning are shown attacking an alien at a petrol station. To what end? I couldn't tell you. Accept that it's making some loose connection between the American's attack on the creatures and the war in Iraq. Edgy stuff that should take the heat off Julian Assange once Washington finds out. The film also suggests that Mexican officials are corrupt, leading me to wonder whether a deleted scene would have revealed the toiletry habits of bears.
I can't help but feel that the film's shallow "humans are bad" rhetoric would be dismissed if this were larger film, perhaps directed by James Cameron. It's a message that makes no sense either. Whilst in the infected wilderness they encounter the aforementioned dead child. They also see the eviscerated bodies of people they were travelling with. What is so wonderful about the aliens is anyone's guess. Just that they're not human. Because we humans are so terribly, terribly bad, you see. It is a po-faced film which is smugly satisfied by its seriousness. Edwards knows that everyone will line up to gush "it's a monster film that isn't about the monsters!" - as if that was what we'd all been waiting for.
'Monsters' didn't thrill me and it certainly didn't move me either. Yet I must return to the first point of this review and put the thing back in its context as a film that cost a first-time director less than $500,000 to make. With that in mind it is an excellently well designed film. If you didn't know it was made on the cheap, you probably wouldn't be able to tell from what is an extremely handsomely made film. Much like that of last year's 'District 9', the world Edwards creates is an interesting one and you are drawn to wonder at the story around the story. You scan the world for details which will give you more information about this time and place, with these strange circumstances told to you in a matter of fact way and made to seem highly plausible. It is also a credit to Edwards that he stages his scenes of tension well, even if they are all ripped straight out of the Spielberg playbook (the car attack scene is lifted from 'Jurassic Park', whilst the encounter with a curious alien in the gas station is reminiscent of a similar sequence in 'War of the Worlds') - perhaps appropriate given that Spielberg's first short movies required similar ingenuity in terms of homemade special effects.
As a film, I wasn't sold on 'Monsters'. But as part of a growing and exciting trend it thrills me absolutely. I can only imagine what we'll see in the future if anyone with an idea and the talent can feasibly make whatever film they want to. Indie filmmakers have long between able to make gritty, social realism films and small scale dramas. But maybe now science fiction and fantasy are not out of reach. I don't want to oversell it: Gareth Edwards may have only spent $500,000 making this film, but he still had half a million dollars at his disposal (not to mention the backing of Vertigo Films). But who knows? Maybe the next 'Star Wars' or 'Lawrence of Arabia' will be made in a bedroom rather than a movie studio.
'Monsters' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is out now in the UK. It is playing this week at Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse cinema.
It has taken a long time, but in the UK we seem to be catching up with the likes of Japan and France when it comes to taking animated films seriously. For years animated films were almost always children's films and were routinely dismissed by critics and cinephiles. Eyebrows were raised when, in 1991, Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast' was (quite deservedly) nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Flash forward to 2010 and Disney's 'Up' was nominated for the same honour without the same murmurings of dissent. (In fact that film made many critics end of year "best film" lists.) Whilst those two Disney films are most certainly aimed at children (albeit with adult themes), it is no longer impossible to find animated films aimed at older audiences in UK cinemas, even if it isn't yet widespread. Earlier this year 'The Illusionist', a slow and poignant (and mostly silent) French film, did fairly well here playing mostly to adults. And now 'Chico & Rita', a sexually explicit, 15-rated Spanish animation, has been released in the UK to general acclaim.
By "sexually explicit" I really only mean that 'Chico & Rita' has a couple of sex scenes and some female nudity, deemed "strong sex" by the BBFC. Presumably this was because the next certificate down is a '12A' (the same rating as the latest 'Harry Potter' film) and the body wanted to make it clear that this is not intended as a film for children. This must be the rationale as compared to live action films the scenes of love-making in 'Chico & Rita' are fairly tame. But what makes this Spanish animation a movie for adults is not the tasteful sexual content, but rather the fact that there is really nothing here for children. There is no comedy relief and, save for one brief chase sequence, there is no "action". Instead this is a real love story, filled with all the melancholy that can bring. It is a colourful film of vitality and also a tale of regret and near tragedy.
'Chico & Rita' is partly told in flashback as an old man named Chico, living alone in a small and squalid apartment in a run down part of modern Havana, recalls his time as a virtuoso pianist as he falls for a beautiful singer named Rita. This love story is set against a backdrop of the vibrant and exciting nightlife that typified pre-revolution Havana in the 1940s (at least for visiting American playboys) with the film set to the rhythms of Latin jazz. Soon the duo form a popular musical double-act, but Chico is a bit of a cad and he loses Rita due to his drinking and womanising. Soon she is whisked away to New York City to become a major singer and even a star of MGM musicals, leaving Chico behind. Chico then sells his piano and pursues her in the hope of rekindling their love. As you can probably guess from the fact that the film is told in flashback by a sad man living alone, things don't go especially well and the couple are again separated by the cruelty of fate.
The film's beautiful animation is, from the looks of it, mostly done on computer but given the appearance of traditional animation (Ã la 'Waltz With Bashir'). The use of computers allows of a very fluid style of direction, that has much more in common with live action than animation - perhaps owing to the fact that the film's co-director Fernando Trueba comes from live action film (whilst the film's other director Javier Mariscal is a designer and not a filmmaker by trade). What the use of animation allows is great period detail, as the film recreates not only 40s Havana and New York, but also Paris. It also enables Chico to meet with long dead legends of music, such as Charlie Parker and Chano Pozo (to whose bloody death Chico bears horrified witness). Some of the film's details are (perhaps knowingly) anachronistic: for example although the Broadway show version of 'On the Town' debuted in 1944, the popular Gene Kelly film wouldn't be released until 1949, a year after Chico's voyage to New York upon which it is referenced (along with the tune of "New York, New York"). But regardless, these period details are a consistent pleasure - and there are lots of them to be seen.
The film's depiction of Cuba is also multi-faceted and nuanced. In the pre-revolutionary section we see Havana as a place that is fun and lively. It is a place full of possibility, where a talented singer or pianist can get noticed and make it in the USA. But also shown is the contrast extreme between the rich and poor, and racism, with the wealthy Americans who come to Havana shown going to racially restricted clubs which don't allow native Cubans. When Chico returns to Cuba amidst the revolution in 1959, things have changed again. Now we are shown the optimism Catro's revolution brought to Cuban people. Indeed Chico's first response seems to be positive. But before long he is told that his music is banned for being too American, which then shows us the limitations brought about by the move to communism. Similarly, the situation Chico finds himself in as an old man highlights the problems of modern Cuba - crumbling and stuck in the past. Whether you put that failure down to the extreme (and unreasonable) economic sanctions imposed on the island by the US or to the inherent failures of communism, it remains a reality which the film captures in detail.
'Chico & Rita' is a beautiful, bittersweet story about love, creativity and growing old, brought to life with vibrant, colourful animation. The period setting, the music, the atmosphere of the piece elevate what is already a really emotionally affecting story to even greater heights. It is a film which skillfully manages to romanticise the past it depicts without ignoring its shadier aspects. Overall it is a human story about well rounded characters, none of whom are really right or wrong, and all of whom are marked by their regrets and failings, but also by their unwavering belief in romantic love. A very good film which happens to be told via animation, hopefully proving we're ready for more.
'Chico & Rita' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is out in the UK on a limited release.
I have never read, or even been tempted to read, a Harry Potter book. Nor have I enjoyed the series of films J.K Rowling's writing has inspired which having begun in 2001 with 'The Philosopher's Stone' - and due to conclude next year - now span (and for some possibly define) a cinema-going decade. For me there has always been something very twee about these stories - set within a boarding school for witches and wizards - and something incredibly establishment about their very existence and place in the "British" film industry. Worse still, it has always felt like the series' best ideas and characters had been stolen wholesale from other works: books by Roald Dahl, C.S Lewis and J.R.R Tolkien. And with Warner Brothers having eschewed hiring Terry Gilliam (the author's publicly stated preferred choice) these uninspiring tales have also been beset by a succession of similarly uninspiring filmmakers.
'Home Alone' director Chris Columbus helmed the first two movies, making films of almost staggering blandness. Some brief respite was given to the series' in the form of the third outing, 'The Prisoner of Azkaban', as darling of the Mexican New Wave Alfonso Cuarón brought to that film a more naturalistic approach in the acting (especially in the film's young cast) as well as a darker colour palette and some more imaginative shot choices. Yet it was still ultimately a pretty poor film, still weighed down by interminably dull scenes of "Quidditch" and even featuring Lenny Henry. But whatever its flaws, the series' third chapter was enriched by Cuarón as director. Though it would be short lived, as soon Harry Potter was thrust firmly back into cinematic mediocrity once again with the Mike Newell directed fourth film boring me near to tears when I saw it at the cinema in 2005.
'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' is relatively light on action. It is a slower, more character based film which found the leads - Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson - now able to act. It was intense and visceral in a way never before attempted by these films, and in a way missing from most modern kids films in general. There were more interesting characters and themes, as it looked at the school life of the series' arch-villain Tom Riddle (AKA Voldemort) and also made other perennial villains more human, such as Draco Malfoy, played by Tom Felton. Once a two-dimensional, snarling school bully, Draco was here portrayed as a troubled child in the middle of an identity crisis, torn apart as he struggled with the moral implications of his family's allegiance with "the dark Lord" and his growing unease at his own grave part in their evil schemes.
Yet even when these films were not terrible, they were forever bringing out the cynic and the pedant in me as a viewer. I was forever asking "why are they doing that?", "how come that's suddenly possible?" and "why didn't they think to do that two scenes ago?" My problem was often that the films' internal logic seemed inconsistent and muddled. Often Potter himself seemed like a, frankly, shit protagonist. He was forever being saved by some contrived deus ex machina (such as the magical sword at the end of film two) or by his teachers. He was always being told exactly what to do, every step of the way. For example, when in film four he has make a golden egg reveal a clue, it takes Robert Pattinson telling him to "try giving it a bath", followed by another character telling him to "try putting in into the water" when he gets there - so unable is he to make that logical leap. My girlfriend was always saying "it makes more sense in the books". But I don't care. These films should make sense in their own right, or else they are just expensive fan-service.
The reason I have chosen to begin my review of the latest installment, 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One', with this account of my own history with these films is two-fold. Firstly, I wasn't reviewing films when these came out and I wanted to state my position on them here. Secondly, I thought it important to provide a context for my unabashed praise of this latest film. For in 'Deathly Hallows Part One' I have found a Potter film I can actually enjoy.
Never before have two films in the same franchise seemed so totally alien to each other as 'Philopher's Stone' and 'Deathly Hallows' must look placed side-by-side. (OK, maybe the Bond series has changed more over its near fifty years of being, but these Potter movies are direct sequels less than ten years apart.) 'Deathly Hallows Part One' is not a film in which Potter inflates his nasty auntie into a balloon or takes part in a "Triwizard Tournament" or tastes bogey flavoured magic sweeties. It is a film which opens on a scene of torture and murder (of a bound and weeping school teacher no less), in which one of Harry's friends is casually killed off screen and another dies bleeding in his arms. The first time we see Harry's friend Hermione Granger she is tearfully erasing herself from her parents' memory so as to keep them safe. Whilst the fourth film boasted Jarvis Cocker singing a song called "Do the Hippogriff", this seventh film sees Harry turn on a radio to hear "O Children" by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, to which he and Hermione temporarily relieve their gloom with a melancholic dance, in an emotionally charged scene which I'm told doesn't exist in the book. It's a moment which will probably be ignored for being in a Harry Potter blockbuster, but I feel a similar moment in a "serious" film would receive more attention.
If 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' was like a Famous Five story, then this new film feels like something out of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. The bleak, recognisably English landscapes are desolate and our heroes are often alone, uncertain whether anyone they know has survived. There is precious little comedy relief in this chapter. Which is nice as the "gags" in previous Potter movies have been woeful. What lightness and humour there is comes from the central three characters friendship which seems more real then ever before - perhaps as a result of the fact that these child actors have genuinely grown up together (one of the series' real pleasures). Yates' Potter films have been enriched by their taking place in a more recognisable, and even banal, world. The last film saw Yates stage a deadly Voldemort attack on London's Millennium Bridge (a modern and lesser known landmark as of yet untouched by Michael Bay or Roland Emmerich) and similarly 'Deathly Hallows' presents a modern, lived-in and refreshingly normal picture of London - neither touristy or excessively grimy. Yates has realised that in making the "muggle" (non-magical) world less wondrous a place, the magic of Potter & co. is given room to be all the more exciting by contrast.
So it is that the chase sequence near the film's start is the most exciting bit of action from any chapter of the series. As Harry flips around a tunnel to dodge cars on his motorcycle (well, more accurately Hagrid's motorcycle - Harry is in the side-car) it is Harry and his friends integration into a more convincing "real world" setting that makes it work. There are also far fewer times when things are over-explained to us via Harry, or where the the heroes actions cease making sense and robbed of Dumbledore as a benevolent, omnipotent guide, it is up to Harry, Hermione and Ron to solve the film's problems. And as the stakes have never been higher (this is after all the first part of the series' finale) the film is also much more involving than those that came before.
It is rare to find a film series that actually grows up with its audience. When George Lucas made his much-maligned 'Star Wars' prequels, fans felt he'd infantilised the saga. Those films, with the slapstick comedy of Jar Jar Binks and an increased pandering to the "toyetic", certainly feel as though they are aimed at a young audience rather than the thirty-somethings who grew up with the original trilogy. In contrast, these films (I imagine thanks to the books) do seem to be going on a journey with their young audience. Children that started off with 'Philosopher's Stone' have a film in 'Deathly Hallows' that they can enjoy ten years on and which may actually frighten and excite them.
'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One' is in a different league to its predecessors. It's consistently tonally serious and dark, whereas even the last film would switch uneasily between tragedy and light-hearted comedy all in the space of a scene (note the sudden change from talking about a central character's murder to talking about Harry's latest crush in the final scene of 'Half-Blood Prince'). It also better develops its characters and benefits from a more interesting story with higher stakes. The distracting array of British actors hamming it up is also less of a problem here, as most of our time is spent in the company of the three children.
Perhaps my only real criticism is that it wouldn't work on its own: you need to have seen the other films and/or read the books to understand it. This is to be expected as it's a conclusion (or at least the beginning of one), but I would hesitate to recommend this film to newcomers or to label it any kind of classic. It will always be bound up with the other, less good films which have sadly already undermined this story. It is a shame then that it took four films before Yates took the reins. Although maybe some of this film's pleasure does come from its stark contrast with the earlier chapters - and with the Columbus years in particular. Perhaps it only works because those films exist: because the brightly lit, Christmas card aesthetic of the earlier efforts is there to be subverted in this way. Whatever the reason 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One' worked for me - a self-described Potterphobe - it did work. As a result I find myself in the unlikely position of looking forward to next year and 'Part Two'. Perhaps, as far as the Harry Potter movies are concerned, all's well that ends well.
'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One' is rated '12A' by the BBFC - for being bloody scary, I'd imagine.
Noomi Rapace is back as that girl with the dragon tattoo and a penchant for playing with fire. This time, apparently, she has developed a taste for kicking hornets' nests. Although those with chronic cnidophobia need not look away for this is a metaphorical nest and, as with her previous adventures, the hornets are sexually violent men in positions of power as opposed to big, angry wasps. 'The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest' is the concluding part of a series of Swedish-made film adaptations of Stieg Larsson's widely adored Millennium Trilogy novels, which follow the bisexual, ace computer hacker Lisbeth Salander as she attempts to bring to justice the various men who have wronged her - like a goth version the Bride from 'Kill Bill'. As in the previous installments, she is aided by top investigative journalist and full-time man-whore Mikael Blomkvist (Mikael Nyqvist).
Whilst the first two parts of the trilogy worked as more or less standalone episodic detective stories, this final chapter picks up exactly where the second installment left off and heavily references events and characters from the first two films throughout. With Lisbeth spending most of the film either in hospital, in prison or on trial, 'The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest' is also much less action packed than the previous films. That is not to say that this entry lacks scenes of violence, but it is a far cry from the 18-rated original and, tellingly, the film's most horrific sequence is a scene lifted directly from that first movie, played to a courtroom courtesy of a clandestine recording.
Lisbeth Salander has been through some truly horrible events: beaten up by gangs of armed men; repeatedly raped by her legal guardian; and incarcerated in a mental institution at the age of twelve as the result of a shady government conspiracy. Yet she is still a manifestly unlikeable creation. She is a charmless psychopath and when she is forced to defend herself against charges that she is mentally unstable it is hard not to feel like her despicable, paedophile assailants at least have a bit of a point - although their reasons for making it are obviously not on the level. Again, like Thurman's Bride character, Lisbeth is hellbent on bloody, callous revenge in a film which thinks old testament "eye for an eye" justice is for wishy-washy Guardian readers. It is true that the film always totally convinces you that these balding, sinister Vince Cable-alikes deserve every bit of what Lisbeth gives them, but therein is the reason I hate these films so much.
Lisbeth's violent, sociopathic actions are understandable: after all they are being committed by a troubled individual who has received constant abuse at the hands of these wicked individuals. But these villains aren't human beings: they are monsters. Again, much like Tarantino's 'Kill Bill' films, as well as the likes of 'Sin City' and 'Death Wish', these films use sexual violence as a pretext for enabling us to indulge in guilt-free revenge fantasies that play to the very worst of our nature. I'm not excusing myself here. I too get that sense of vitriol when I get to see the rapist, paedophile, Nazi man get seven shades of shit kicked out of him: but its not a feeling I choose to nurture. Not to mention there is something very contrived and cynical about the way we are manipulated in films like these to feel so reactionary as unambiguous hate figures are offered to us just as the Aztecs offered still-beating human hearts to their gods. There is nothing interesting about straight-up monsters as characters either. Which is why all the best actual monsters are given human characteristics and their own set of internal conflicts (Dracula, Jekyll and Hyde, Beauty and the Beast). The baddies here are pure evil and as such they are totally boring.
I will say this for 'The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest': Noomi Rapace again completely disappears into the role of Salander, physically and emotionally transforming herself. The films best moment is when she walks into the courtroom to defend herself against charges of mental incompetence dressed in some sort of black leather, chainmail garb and sporting a huge mohican. This is the character giving the finger to the trial, refusing to back down on who she is just to conform and make things easy. It is also a gesture of supreme confidence. She is telling her persecutors that she can do as she likes because she knows she will win. That is where this story is strongest, as (although I'm not her biggest fan) in Lisbeth Salander there is a protagonist unlike any other, even if the dreary world she inhabits is from generic-revenge-thriller-land.
I have been eagerly awaiting this film for a few months now. Having really disliked the first two movies, I was getting a little sick of seeing that same poster image in cinemas for the third time in the space of a year and longed to put this whole seedy, dour, sadomasochistic enterprise behind me once and for all. Sadly this doesn't mark the end, as David Fincher is now busily helming an American adaptation of the same set of books. Although you can at least be certain that, whatever the American version is like, Fincher's film will feel less like a post-watershed episode of an ITV3 drama and more like a feature film.
'The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest' is out now in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC.
A former freelance film journalist based in Brighton, I have written contributions to The Daily Telegraph and several websites, provided occasional analysis for BBC Radio Sussex and Radio Reverb, and recently I've been involved with several volumes published by Intellect Books.
I've also written about video games for GamesIndustry.biz.
I can be "followed" on Twitter:
http://twitter.com/BeamesOnFilm
