Review Round-Up: 'Cabin in the Woods', 'Once Upon a Time in Anatolia' and more...

I'm off on holiday to Rome for a week so I don't have time to write up full reviews for the last few films I've seen - which is a pity because a couple of them were fantastic and all of them were enjoyable. With that in mind, here is a short round-up of some recent releases:

'Cabin in the Woods', cert '15'
Completed in 2009 but not released until this month due to the bankruptcy of MGM, 'Cabin in the Woods' is an incredibly funny and whip-smart take on the horror genre from producer/co-writer Joss Whedon and writer/director Drew Goddard. It's got the splatter horror humour of 'Evil Dead' and is similar to 'Scream' in that it deconstructs the slasher genre and subverts its tropes. But unlike 'Scream' it does this without ultimately becoming just another slasher movie: it goes much further than that, delving into what makes such movies work and questioning why they satisfy audiences in the first place. It grapples with such concepts as audience complicity in movie violence and the way young people are portrayed in American movies, as well as being hilariously funny, incredibly gory and full of imagination. When it all kicks off in the final third, I can promise you there is nothing quite like it.

Aside from Chris Hemsworth, who has since become the star of 'Thor', the cast is mainly comprised of familiar faces from Whedon's TV work, the best of whom is 'Dollhouse' supporting cast member Fran Kranz. Kranz steals the show absolutely and owns most of the script's most inspired lines of dialogue. Bradley Whitford and Richard Jenkins are also excellent, though to explain their roles in any depth would constitute a spoiler. I don't usually care about those (being a "journey not the destination" type of guy) but 'Cabin in the Woods' is most certainly a film you don't want spoiled. One of the year's best so far, which is unusual for a film that's been on a shelf for three years.

'Once Upon a Time in Anatolia', cert '15'
An honest-to-gods masterpiece, this Turkish drama from Nuri Bilge Ceylan has a lot in common with the almost equally excellent 2009 Romanian film 'Police, Adjective'. Both share the same fascination with the banal side of police work not usually explored in cinema, as ordinary cops perform quite boring duties. Both films have patience in common, allowing us to observe these men at work without any embellishment. But whilst the Romanian movie explored whether the semantic definition of law should hold more weight than our own understanding of morality, this feature ponders how such men can maintain their humanity when forced so often to encounter acts of barbarism.

Most of the film takes place over one night as regional police escort a murder suspect around the countryside in the hope that he will reveal the location of his victim's body. That's about it as far as the plot is concerned. There is an increasingly frustrated local police captain who loses his temper with the uncooperative prisoner, a doctor brought along to identify the cause of death and a prosecutor who is charged with gathering all the evidence and shaping the official report of the night's events. The men trade stories and exchange views on humanity, marriage and culture, but there is little "action" in the traditional sense. Yet it never comes close to being boring, thanks to well observed dialogue, interesting characters and some of the most scintillating photography I've ever seen: both of the Turkish countryside and of the human face in extreme close-up. A miraculous movie and spellbinding experience.

'Headhunters', cert '15'
From the production company behind the 'Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' adaptations, this Norwegian screen version of the Jo Nesbo thriller is more glossy than its Swedish counterparts and better paced. It's also as mad as a bag of hammers, with a plot that turns on the hero's decision not to recommend a Dutch former CEO for a top corporate job in Oslo. The Dutchman, as luck would have it a former commando specialising in tracking elusive targets, takes this very badly indeed and decides to pursue Roger Brown (Aksel Hennie) across the country with the aim of killing him. He kills lots of other people along the way too. Oh, and Roger Brown in an international art thief in addition to Norway's most respected corporate headhunter, though this never really comes to anything.

It's completely implausible from start to finish and possibly one of the most violent films I've seen this year, though it moves at a fair clip and seems to understand its place in the world. I can't honestly say I liked it, but I enjoyed watching it far more than I did the Swedish 'Dragon Tattoo' movies and it certainly feels more cinematic than that trilogy.

'Le Havre', cert 'PG'
Incredibly slight, this affable French comedy from Finnish aueteur Aki Kaurismäki concerns an ageing bohemian (André Wilms) who lives a simple life in the port town, tending to his sickly wife and owing money to the local shopkeepers. The community depicted here are reminiscent of the sort of oddballs who populate Jeunet comedies, though the sense of humour is less wacky and more deadpan. It feels old fashioned and contrived, in a very sweet way, though the film's politics are far from conservative. Instead the film deals with the issue of France's refugee internment camps and revolves around the decision of the local community to shelter a young African boy who is on the run from immigration.

Considering how big an issue immigration is in French politics currently, 'Le Havre' is a bold film which posits sympathy for immigrants as a very French way to behave - as the community band together against forces who would see the boy imprisoned and prevented from reaching his mother in London. That it treats this divisive subject matter with such a deceptive simplicity and lightness of touch, within a heart-warming and congenial comedy, is worthy of applause. A compassionate and humanitarian film without bad guys.

'Battleship' review:

Some crazy, wayward geniuses have finally done it. They've adapted a board game into a summer tentpole movie. I'm not suggesting this is a contribution to culture the universe was crying out for, but you've got to admire the sheer gumption of writers Jon and Erich Hoeber for somehow, just about, crowbarring enough of the narrative-light children's game into what otherwise amounts to a generic sci-fi invasion movie. The film carries the most hideous strapline I've ever seen, with posters proudly proclaiming the film is from "Hasbro, the company that brought you Transformers", and the very concept of adapting a board game into a movie is worthy of derision (as things stand we're probably just a few months from the announcement of a rom-com called Connect Four), yet somehow these inspired scribes get away with it careers intact.

'Battleship', directed by Peter Berg, stars Taylor "he's so hot right now" Kitsch as a taller, blonder version of Maverick from 'Top Gun' - a "the most talented soldier I've ever seen" type who wastes his potential sleeping in with the admiral's daughter (Brooklyn "all models are actresses now" Decker) and stealing chicken burritos from closed convenience stores - in what amounts to the most bizarre screen depiction of self-destructive, directionless youth yet committed to film. His long-suffering brother (the appealing Alexander Skarsgård), a dedicated Navy careerist, makes him enlist as a seaman to turn his life around, yet he can't quite curb his brother's impulsive nature and as a result Kitsch is one screw-up away from being kicked out of the military by Admiral Liam "paycheck" Neeson.

Whilst on a huge naval exercise off the coast of Hawaii, and after costing his volleyball soccer team victory in the final of an inter-naval world cup soccer tournament (yes, seriously), Kitsch's problems quickly escalate as an alien invasion sees the fleet decimated and the young buck placed in acting command of the remaining vessel. It's then that our bronzed hero has to thwart the alien invasion combining, you guessed it, his lone-wolf unpredictability with a new found respect for the uniform. The alien ships are some of the best CGI I've ever seen, the action sequences and city destruction stuff is suitably loud, and pint-sized pop sensation Rihanna is improbably present as a trash-talking heavy weapons specialist. It's that kind of movie.

Where 'Battleship' wins out over Bay's 'Transformers' movies is in Berg's less frantic, more competent direction, and also in the fact that it's sometimes genuinely funny on account of how absolutely knowingly stark raving mad it is. There are so many strange happenings and oddball character moments that I couldn't possibly remember them all, but indie heartthrob Hamish "The Future" Linklater stands out in his role as the token infuriating science nerd. However 'Battleship' is even more militaristic than 'Transformers', with the whole thing playing like a glossy Navy recruitment commercial. Our hero has to learn to respect the hallowed institution of which he is a reluctant servant, with his troublemaker side exposed by such subversive traits as asking "why?" when given an order. Don't question the rules: follow them, says the film.

If the military is entirely awesome and humanity's best friend in 'Battleship' - which basically bends over backwards to satisfy retired seaman (if you're into that kind of thing) - then science is very, very bad indeed. The aliens only invade because of bloody science, with its blasted curiosity about the universe. Whilst, fittingly for a film shot on 35mm, digital technology - both alien and our own - is found to be no substitute for the romanticised tech of the past (such as the titular obsolete warship). There's also a slightly insidious "yellow peril" undercurrent to this Pearl Harbor-set movie, as every new alien development is first assumed to be either Chinese or North Korean in origin. I suppose this is why Kitsch quickly finds himself with a half-Japanese crew, as the filmmakers attempt to say "some of our best friends are Asian".

So that's 'Battleship'. A big-screen celebration of American military might, loosely inspired by a Hasbro board game, which just about gets away with how awful that is based on solid direction and a self-deprecating sense of humour. People say silly things whilst even sillier things happen all around them, but it's all very big and exciting and the reason we went to the movies when we were 12.


'Battleship' is rated '12A' and is out now in the UK which, if this film is anything to go by, does not rule the waves.

'The Pirates! In An Adventure With Scientists' review:

Innocent and family-friendly without ever being too cutesy, 'The Pirates! In An Adventure With Scientists' is Aarman's latest stop-frame animated feature film, loaded with the usual inspired sight gags, quickfire puns and unalloyed charm. Here, in a loose adaptation of a book series of the same name, we follow The Pirate Captain (as voiced by Hugh Grant) - a rubbish but well-meaning scourge of the high seas whose single greatest wish is to win the coveted Pirate of the Year prize.

However he has been thwarted in this quest for the last two decades by a combination of his own ineptitude and the fact that his rivals are supremely impressive shownman - as voiced by Salma Hayek, Jeremy Piven and Lenny Henry. It is a pity we don't see them beyond two brief fleeting appearances, as each quickly establishes an entertaining character, but I'm sure they'll be back; This whimsically entertaining yarn, though it provokes broad smiles rather than hearty belly-laughs, has the makings of a successful franchise.

In his quest to usurp his more decorated colleagues in the running for this year's prize, the open-hearted and guileless Pirate Captain stumbles into Charles Darwin (David Tennant) who correctly identifies the pirates' "parrot" Polly as the last remaining dodo. Darwin promises the discovery will make Captain rich beyond his wildest dreams - making him a sure winner of the coveted accolade. But the lovelorn scientist has his own agenda (and a trained chimp for a henchman) and leads the band of misfits through chases and various mishaps over the city of London, bringing the plunderers into confrontation with the pirate communities arch-nemesis, Queen Victoria (Imelda Staunton). Cue the big action finale, which takes place on board a magnificently realised Victorian warship.

Some of the humour is winsomely subversive - with the scientists of London inventing an airship simply so they can look down women's tops, and with Hayek's Cutlass Liz oozing a peculiar Plasticine sex appeal. At one point, whilst Martin Freeman's first mate is trying to restore his wounded pride, Pirate Captain reminisces about the simple joys of running people through with a sword. It's not explicit but it isn't strictly sanitised either. Yet even so it is somehow entirely gentle and lacking in cynicism - with these being less "jokes for the adults" than a key component of Aarman's long established anarchic, Pythonesque sensibility.

Imaginative, with plenty of quality gags and a heart of gold that won't tickle your gag reflex, 'The Pirates!' is good fun, rife with the sort of subtle parochial details that defined 'Wallace & Gromit' and 'Creature Comforts' (Blue Peter badges, custard creams and the homely charms of "ham night"). It's not quite as laugh-out-loud funny as the studio's recent computer generated 'Arthur Christmas', but it is certainly more refined and will probably better stand the test of time. That it remains quaint and understated in stereoscope is an achievement in itself.


'The Pirates! In An Adventure With Scientists' is out now in the UK, rated 'U' by the BBFC.

'Wrath of the Titans' review:

Perhaps I need to see a doctor because, the day after showering the universally acclaimed 'The Kid With A Bike' with disdain, I've gone and enjoyed what is (on paper) one of the year's most derisory blockbuster offerings: 'Wrath of the Titans'. The sum of its parts don't make for an appealing read: a post-converted 3D sequel to one of the most forgettable and bland flicks in recent memory (2010's re-make 'Clash of the Titans'), directed by Jonathan Liebesman - the guy responsible for the roundly condemned 'Battle: Los Angeles' - and starring Sam Worthington, the Aussie who has quickly become Hollywood's blandest action star. Yet, in the wake of the 'Transformers' movies, I now find myself impressed by any mainstream, effects-laden picture that is coherently made and sticks to a sensible running time (in this case a cool 99 minutes).

Under Liebesman's direction the "franchise" has adopted the ubiquitous shakey-cam approach designed to trick the viewer into feeling as though they are watching live news footage rather than the stuff of fantasy. And though I'm usually frustrated by this messy and disorienting technique, here - in a sword and sandal story of ancient Greek legend - it adds a refreshing immediacy and grit to a genre more commonly associated with glistening bronze pectorals. As Perseus, Worthington always has dirt under his fingernails and caked all over his body. He acquires fresh, gaping wounds from each new encounter with the mystical creatures he beats and, though we all know he will triumph, there is a genuine sense of jeopardy throughout: though the demigod son of Zeus he seems to be a fragile, mortal man in the company of much more powerful creatures.

A sequence near the start, that sees Perseus chase a winged and two headed beast through the streets of his small fishing village, feels far more kinetic and frantic than any other I've seen in a film of this kind. It may seem a bizarre and counter-productive choice to frame broad fantasy as realism but in doing so 'Wrath' is much more interesting than its prequel. Additionally you have Liam Neeson reprising the role of Zeus and Ralph Fiennes appearing again as Hades - with both lending the intended considerable gravitas (that's probably how the payments appear on their balance sheets) to moments of otherwise jaw-dropping sillyness. For his part Worthington isn't bad either: for the first time in a major American movie (at least that I'm aware of) he has been allowed to retain his Australian accent - breaking continuity with the original (but who really cares?) but allowing him to be a much more natural presence than usual.

The post-converted 3D isn't even terrible. The first film was rightly cited as an example of the practice at its worst, but here it's unobtrusive but ever-present and, in certain grand battle scenes, the sense of depth created gives the film's ultimate villain Kronos the necessary scale. In fact, the CGI rendering of Kronos is something of a triumph, with some really fantastic images created, with an early dream sequence being the overall highlight (as we see the gargantuan molten lava hands of the deity scooping up handfuls of soldiers and dropping them from a great height). Some of the other effects (notably the cyclops) fare less well, but overall the effects in 'Wrath' range from decent to spectacular.

Of course, I've chosen to accentuate the positive elements above. All said 'Wrath of the Titans' is still not a particularly good film. The dialogue doesn't venture beyond speaking important plot points aloud, with characters immediately greeted by name each time they appear and moments of action explained (like a rubbish radio play). As in the previous entry, the supporting characters are ill-defined and boring, and even an improved Worthington is not the most charismatic of leading men. Among the worst offenders is Bill Nighy who turns up as a former god and indulges in the worst kind of campy over-acting (which undermines the film's determinedly serious tone), whilst Rosamund Pike can't help but be an empty vessel as the film's perfunctory love interest.

When it comes to the love interest subplot (or tangible lack thereof) the film is at its very weakest, because Perseus falling for Pike's Andromeda seems to be based on nothing more than the fact she is the film's available female (FAF). As the FAF, Andromeda is never really shown to be particularly close to Perseus and they engage in few tender moments over the course of the running time. Only when the fighting is over is there that tokenistic kiss that condescends to say "and now here's some romance for the ladies". But it's insincere romance of the highest order. I've written before about the way major franchise action films have a serious problem with relationships. Or more to the point, writers have a hard time knowing what to do with them. Case in point: Gemma Arterton's FAF from the first movie is established to have died in the interim, allowing Perseus to go off and be a bloke without having the old ball and chain around.

Women exist in films like 'Wrath of the Titans' to be attained or conquered by the (male) protagonist and no more than that. Once conquered they no longer serve a purpose and are either killed off or arbitrarily separated from the hero (often to be attained all over again). The filmmakers may well point to the fact that, in 'Wrath', Andromeda is cast as a warrior queen who leads her troops into battle with a sword, rather than as some bashful damsel. Yet she is a passenger; She accompanies Perseus on his journey but never advances the plot herself. The one piece of knowledge she provides is awareness of the location of a more important male character... and even then it's because he's practically in the next room.

That 'Wrath of the Titans' is better than I expected, exceeding my sub-zero expectations, is not necessarily cause for celebration. But I'd be lying if I denied being entertained: impressed by the effects and immersed in much of the action thanks to the immediacy of Liebesman's camera. That said, it's got to rank as a second or third tier sort of blockbuster in a summer that's packed with genuine titans, such as 'The Avengers', 'The Dark Knight Rises', 'The Amazing Spider-Man', 'MIB: III' and the heavily-promoted 'Battleship'. But, as recent summers have shown, you could do far, far worse than see this particular bit of disposable pap. And - though saying so is sure to torpedo any slim credibility I might have accrued as a critic - I'd sooner sit through this again than watch a Belgian 11 year-old ride a bike.


'Wrath of the Titans' is out now in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'The Kid With A Bike' review:

I'm fast falling out of love with slow, mostly eventless cinema and though this is not the fault of the Dardenne Brothers' overpraised 'The Kid With A Bike', it is that film which will suffer from the backlash for now - being the straw that broke this proverbial camel's back. What used to feel refreshing and in no small way revelatory now seems overly slight and uninspiring. I'm talking about the banal scenes in which we are cast as curtain-twitching voyeurs as people chat about what to have for lunch, or the sustained tracking shots that say "we're doing this because we can" and increasingly little else. The things I used to admire which now feel every bit as tired and cliche as the Hollywood tropes they once stood in bold opposition to.

As I said at the top, 'Bike' isn't the worst offender in these regards (or even close for that matter). On another day I might have lauded 'The Kid With A Bike' as patient, well-observed and sensitively acted. The Dardenne's don't judge their characters and the film is redemptive and life-affirming without being sickly. Young Thomas Doret is superb as the titular kid, wounded and out of control 11 year-old Cyril, whilst Cecil de France is winsome as his foster mother. The Belgian Jeremy Renner (Jeremie Renier) - the ubiquitous Euro star who first found fame with the Dardennes in such films as 'The Promise' and 'The Child' - is ever-reliable as the deadbeat father who abandons his son. It's not even that the film outstays its welcome: it's only 87 minutes long. Perfect running length in a world in which movies seem to feel obliged to exceed two hours.

Yet with its very slender plot (a boy is left frustrated and angry after being abandoned by his father and takes this out on his foster carers, stropping around and being a nuisance) there is nothing here to suggest 'Bike' wouldn't have been equally effective over a half hour. In fact, even given that the film's two or three moments of action are stretched out, the boy's last act change of character seems contrived - the resolution, for all the filmmakers cumbersome attempts at last-minute jeopardy, feels all too tidy. And in having Cyril succumb to the lure of a gang of PlayStation 3 and Fanta obsessed local criminals (the suburban Belgian mafia, as I like to call them), is the film suggesting a boy will turn to armed robbery if bereft of a strong father figure? Take that single mothers!

I am more than aware that I'm being a little unfair on the gentle and well intentioned 'The Kid With A Bike', but I guess how you feel heading into a film - about life or cinema - has an effect you can't possibly hope to separate from the experience itself. It probably didn't help that I saw it right off the back of another, longer and even more tiresome movie, which left me resentful of the time I'd spent sitting in the dark on what was a beautiful, sunny day. On another day, who knows? But right now I feel inclined to blow petulant raspberries in its direction.

'The Kid With A Bike' is out now in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.

FilmQuest 2012 (12/30): 'Unforgiven'

A huge box office and Academy Awards success in 1992, Clint Eastwood's 'Unforgiven' proved to be one of many recent false dawns for the Western. Like the Coen Brothers 2010 'True Grit' and contemporary favourite 'Dances With Wolves', 'Unforgiven' not only managed to renew audience enthusiasm for tales of the Old West but also became an instant classic of the genre. Spectacular film though it is, this popularity was no doubt assisted by the presence of Eastwood, starring and directing, which gives the film extra weight and pop culture significance. It's, as things stand, the last Western from an actor more closely associated with the genre than any other (with the possible exception of John Wayne) and proves a fitting coda.

As cantankerous former gunslinger William Munny, Eastwood is effectively looking back on his own past as a screen icon with the same mixture of shame and pride as the anti-hero. Munny professes to have been cured of wickedness and sin by his late wife, yet you can immediately tell this is not so much a change of character as an act of repression. As he gets further and further into his last great adventure - tracking down two cowboys who deformed a prostitute, in the company of his best friend Ned Logan (Morgan Freeman) and near-sighted outlaw wannabe The Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett) - his pretense at a moral crusade gives way to a lust for violence, especially when in the service of vengeance.



Like all the great modern Westerns, the decline of the Old West (and of the genre itself) is built into the narrative. But in this morally grey film the transition period from frontier barbarism to gentrified modernity is fraught with contradictions. Gene Hackman, who won as Oscar for his trouble, plays lawman Bill Daggett, who forbids weapons in his town in order to maintain the fragile peace. His real passion is for building a house in which he hopes to retire finally free from conflict (giving rise to that great line "I don't deserve to die like this... I was building a house"). It is his willingness to forgive the cowboys, rather than beating or hanging the men as demanded by the other prostitutes, that serves as the catalyst - whilst his zero tolerance policy for those who cause trouble is the act which finally unleashes the demons that lurk within Munny's soul.

There is no right or wrong or morality in 'Unforgiven' and the town of Big Whiskey. Not in Hackman's attempts to keep the peace or in Eastwood's attempts to avenge a wronged woman. There is only ever an ill-defined moral high-ground masquerading as the pretext for violent acts - with revenge the perfect cover for cruelty. Perhaps Freeman is the only honest and decent man in the picture (abandoning the outlaw party as soon as it comes to killing) - and he pays the price for it. So is it a nihilistic film, suggesting that forgiveness and freedom from our most violent impulses are impossible? Perhaps, though I'm not sure. I think Munny's final alcohol and rage fueled rampage is as much a comment on audience expectations as anything else - with the viewer complicit in Eastwood's decline from faux nobility as we will him to go badass on the sheriff and his posse. We all want to hear Eastwood tell the crowded bar "Any man who doesn't wanna get killed better clear on out the back".

It's a mechanism the director subverted to dazzling effect at the climax of the more recent 'Gran Torino', with both films being as much about star semiotics as anything else as Eastwood comes to terms with his own screen image.

Werner Herzog interview!

I had the great privilege of meeting one of my all-time heroes the other day when I interviewed German filmmaker Werner Herzog about his latest documentary 'Into the Abyss' for What Culture! I was pretty nervous but he was in a warm and jovial mood. In any case I still felt I made a fool of myself, getting a few of his film titles slightly wrong as I name dropped them, like the absent minded geriatric I am. "It's LITTLE Dieter NEEDS to Fly!" he corrected, after I asked him about the non-existent documentary Dieter Wants to Fly. Sheesh. It might not read like a big deal, but I was mortified.

Anyway, if you want to read anything of substance that came of that interview:

Read that HERE!

I've also posted a review of 'Tiny Furniture', which you can read HERE.

Both films are released today in the UK.

'We Bought A Zoo' review:

Only in the perpetually sunny, 70s "Album-Oriented Rock" infused world of Cameron Crowe - where momentary lapses in confidence are on par with cancer - does a man respond to unemployment and the loss of a loved one with the impulse purchase of a large zoo. Though Matt Damon stars as Benjamin Mee, the real-life figure upon whose memoir the film is apparently based, there can be little doubt that an audience is being invited into Crowe's world rather than the one we see out the window; A world as always built around grand gestures, cute motivational turns of phrase, and populated by uniformly winsome, oddball characters.

Earnestly sentimental and overflowing with whimsy, Crowe's films are easy to dismiss, though such an act can feel as mean spirited as heckling a eulogy, or writing graffiti on a Mr. Men book. His films are intended as celebrations of life and the innate goodness of the human spirit and, when they hit the spot, their sweet nature can overpower all but the most reactionary cynicism. For instance the deeply personal 'Almost Famous', another loose autobiography (this time of Crowe's youth as a music journalist), is one of the defining films of the last two decades. Yet when they fail, his films leave themselves so open to assault, with the writer/director's heart so plainly on his sleeve, that criticism feels like a form of bullying. As with the much-derided 'Elizabethtown'.

With its saccharine zoo-buying premise, it's no surprise that 'We Bought A Zoo' does not reach the dramatic heights of 'Almost Famous' or 'Jerry Maguire', the formal ambition of the badly received 'Vanilla Sky' remake, nor the zeitgeist appeal of 'Singles'. In tone and spirit it feels like the inbred cousin of 'Elizabethtown' and proof-positive that the filmmaker has leaped into self-parody, becoming sappier and more bombastic than ever. 'We Bought A Zoo' is far more damaging an anti-Crowe missile than any of his most ardent critics could ever have hoped to launch. It's a film in which an aggressively adorable girl complains that she can't sleep because next door's "happy is too loud".

It's a film in which Thomas Haden Church (ever an uncomfortable marriage between the body of Hercules and the demeanor of a terminally ill family pet) can throw his arms into the air and, apropos of nothing, say "joy" without it seemingly either ironic or incongruous. It's a film in which Damon's financial recklessness is enabled by his late wife's secret leaving of $84, 000 "circus money", in apparent anticipation that he would do something this grand and stupid (and who can't identify with that in a time of recession?). It's a film in which someone genuinely utters the line "I like the animals... but I love the people", and in which the musical choices are so painfully on the nose that a downpour is accompanied by Bob Dylan's "Buckets of Rain". Pathetic fallacy indeed.

In this world a teenage boys "dark" artwork (charcoal etchings of decapitated bodies and the like) is seen as evidence of a cry for help - a glimpse at how superficially gloomy you have to get before Crowe would sit you down for a pep talk, and preach about the life-changing impact of "twenty seconds of insane courage", like a man who is part director, part music critic and part walking self-help cack fountain. And if 'Elizabethtown' copied the plot of 'Jerry Maguire' almost wholesale (allowing for a shift from athlete management to high-end sports shoe design), 'We Bought A Zoo' effectively imports whole lines from that previous movie, with Scarlett Johansson breathlessly complaining about how her life as head zookeeper means she doesn't get to go out with her friends and meet guys. Likewise, Damon reenacts the scene in which a near-defeated Tom Cruise confronts and wins over his doubters.

I haven't even mentioned that Damon's character refers to his spur of the moment zoo acquisition as being part of a plan to give his children "an authentic American experience"... whatever that means (an image of George Washington running an owl sanctuary springs immediately to mind). Of course, this tendency towards emotional tourettes and romanticised public meltdowns hasn't been an automatic black mark against previous Cameron Crowe movies, and perhaps wouldn't be here if the film ever ventured beyond trite ideas of "letting go" and "moving on", as Damon attempts to reconcile the loss of his sadly departed wife. The tale of a middle-aged man struggling to relate to his eldest child in the wake of losing his partner, 'We Bought A Zoo' is basically what 'The Descendants' would have been if George Clooney, with smiling insanity, resolved his problems by relocating his family to a theme park.

'We Bought A Zoo' is out now in the UK, rated 'PG' by the BBFC.

'The Hunger Games' review:

The screams of young girls in the audience leave no doubt as to who the film's target audience is, yet 'The Hunger Games' - and its impossibly hunky onscreen love triangle - exist in a far more compelling world than that of the similarly pitched 'Twilight': trading in high school vampires for post-apocalyptic hardship and child-on-child warfare. Both films are based on pieces of teen fiction which mix action with angsty romance, yet this one's sulky heroine, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), at least has cause to be sulky.

As the story begins, Katniss is established as a capable and fiercely pragmatic young woman who provides for her poverty-stricken family, hunting game in the forbidden woods alongside her handsome chum Gale (Liam Hemsworth). With her father dead and mother drifting in and out of a manic depressive coma, Katniss is the only thing standing between her sweet young sister, Prim, and certain death by starvation. You see, the Everdeens live in District 12: the poorest of the outlying communities of Panem - a futuristic nation built on the ruins of North America - and they spend their days toiling thanklessly in service of the central ruling Capitol: a city of superficial, fashion-obsessed gluttons.

Shit really hits the fan when Prim is chosen at random to be her district's tribute in the year's annual Hunger Games, prompting Katniss to volunteer in her place. As fate would have it, the male tribute is Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) - an equally dreamy and faultlessly good-natured baker's son who's harboured a life-long crush on Katniss and to whom, for a past kindness, Katniss owes her life. Thus complicating the titular game which only one of them can hope to survive. Happily the question of whether Katniss prefers drippy Peeta or outdoorsy Gale is not the film's main preoccupation, however much it might be the chief selling point for a large chunk of the audience.

With a set-up that's instantly familiar to those who've seen the hyper-violent Japanese thriller 'Battle Royale', the Hunger Games themselves see 24 children (a boy and a girl between the ages of 12 and 18 from each district) fighting to the death with the survivor crowned the winner - henceforth entitled to a life of luxury. The twist here is that the tournament takes the form of a gaudy reality TV show, complete with much pageantry and all the contrivances of that genre. Director Gary Ross' adaptation deviates slightly from the book by using the Truman Show-esque device of depicting those in control of the games, manipulating the arena to generate the most exciting spectacle for public consumption, which works well. But otherwise it's a highly faithful, if abridged, version of the tale - only really omitting the book's minor characters and interminable scenes of hunting, eating, and dress making.

As in the books, the games themselves fall short of the more fascinating build-up, a fact not helped by the UK 12A certificate version cutting some of the more violent footage. Making child v child death matches more palatable for increased consumption is morally questionable to say the least, though I understand that the film's box office hopes are pinned chiefly on the world's tweens. Even still, the film does seem overall more squeamish than the book, eschewing the frank nudity, Katniss' frequent (remorseless and detailed) animal slaying, and being coy with the arena violence. Katniss spends much of the book bruised and bloody, but not here where the entire games feels as though they take place over a couple of days.

Lawrence is a perfect choice as Katniss, convincing as strong, and being the embodiment of the character's winsome beautiful-whilst-non-girlish shtick - even if the film's version is rather more prone to bouts of weeping - though its doubtful whether the book's heroine, who so totally internalises every emotion that isn't contemptuous fury, would work on screen. I suppose, robbed of access to her thought process we need to see that she is upset, lest we think she is uncaring or wooden. Likewise, Hutcherson - who seemed so mopey as a sulky teen in 'The Kids Are All Right' - does live up to the book's vision of Peeta as vulnerable, noble, and charismatic.

In many respects this version improves upon the original. For instance, Suzanne Collins' books are so light on physical description of people and places that the look of the film feels like it's breathing life into her world rather than struggling to live up to the reader's imagination. Though the books don't specify the race of any of the characters, it's great so see some of the most crucial and beloved characters cast with black actors (chiefly Lenny Kravitz as Cinna and Amandla Stenberg as Rue), even if the lead parts have all been read as Caucasian.

It's also true that here the villainous kids are more problematic enemies than those of the book, with the ultimate baddie portrayed as far more human. They are still cast as bullying jocks for the most part, though in a way that reads as a Lord of the Flies style look at child behaviour (albeit a shallow one), rather than simply a way to render their deaths more palatable. The film also does well to weave in some of the second book's themes, of wider civil disobedience and the repercussions of Katniss' actions, showing the impact of the games on the people of Panem, giving events a sense of weight.

By breaking from the consistent first person narrative of the text it's also able to show us the games as televised. To this end, Toby Jones and the ever-watchable Stanley Tucci form an entertaining commentary team, who guide us through stranger elements of the world's lore and provide some neat (if gentle) satire of reality TV, reflecting back some of our culture's fondness for exploitative voyeurism and love of glossy, gossipy pap. In fact everything outside of the arena is handled better in the film than the book, with a note-perfect Woody Harrelson particularly funny as Katniss and Peeta's mentor Haymitch.

The teen girl mob, who during the show I attended literally screamed the house down whenever Gale or Peeta (or a cat or a child) appeared on screen, seem to have found a new set of idols and, with Lawrence's robust central showing, a feminine hero for the ages. Perhaps there's little surprise in their showing of affection for this material, in many ways so cynically tailored to meet their interests, but what's striking is that 'The Hunger Games' is actually to some extent worthy of their adulation.

'The Hunger Games' is released today in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'21 Jump Street' review:

"We're reviving a cancelled undercover program from the 80's" says a police captain near the start of '21 Jump Street' - a self-aware comic re-imagining of the 1980s cop show that most famously launched Johnny Depp as a heartthrob. In this version it's left to a mismatched buddy pairing - of a sporty airhead (Channing Tatum) and a brainy dweeb (Jonah Hill) - to track down teenage drug dealers, as hapless rookie cops sent to infiltrate a high school posing as students. Yet they both have unfinished business left over from their own school days which ensures they are soon more focused on making a second go of high school life, with Hill unexpectedly befriending the cool set, whilst Tatum becomes the unlikely champion of the science nerds.

As former high school antagonists turned best friends it's inevitable when they begin to turn on each other during the second act, yet - in a refreshing twist on a tired formula - it's Hill who comes to marginalise the strapping jock, rather than simply seeing the two revert into their old roles. Sometimes the comedy leans too far towards knowingly shocking excess, whilst the plot and "bad-ass" aspirations of our heroes threaten to veer uncomfortably towards a right-wing fantasy, yet its heart seems to be in the right place thanks to the film's tendency to make everything as broad and lovably ridiculous as possible.

Hill and Tatum make for a funny and charismatic double-act, whilst the film's many in-jokes at the expense of formula cop series (like the original) and tropes of the high school comedy allow for a disarming bluntness about the stupidity of its own premise.There are perhaps too many action scenes, with car chases and gun battles now a staple of the Hollywood "dude comedy", and these do drag the film down for long spells. But when it's funny it's funny enough that you more or less forget all the bits you didn't like... and it's funny about 50% of the time.

Especially winning are the drug taking scenes, which seem fresh despite the fact drug trip humour has been done to death over the years: staged imaginatively and going to some fairly bizarre places. This married to the terrific interplay between the leads, deft physical comedy, and some unexpectedly great meta-humour, ensured I laughed long into the credits - possibly for the first time since the last film from directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller (2009's criminally overlooked Sony animation 'Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs'). There's also a very clever cameo that's almost of 'Zombieland' proportions - and which you certainly won't want spoiled.

'21 Jump Street' is out now in the UK, rated '15' by the BBFC.

'Michael' review:

Stark, austere and stripped of sentiment or the vaguest promise of redemption, Markus Schleinzer's directorial debut 'Michael' is a grim tale told (for the most part) from the perspective of Michael Fuith's titular pedophile: a middle-aged Austrian insurance salesman. Michael's otherwise banal existence is only of note because he has abducted a young boy, who he keeps in a specially designed room below his unremarkable suburban home.

It's a synopsis that's not only uncomfortably similar to several cases in recent Austrian history, but which also seems currently in vogue with European filmmakers - with the in some ways identical French film 'Coming Home' debuting at this year's Berlin Film Festival. Yet whereas that less compelling effort made a vain attempt to analyse both kidnapper and victim, 'Michael' focuses on the former and boldly presents this character in a way which is endlessly humane without compromising the horror of his distressing crimes.

Michael is a loner and, whilst nothing in Schleinzer's subtle film waves his backstory in your face, you can just about glimpse his unhappy childhood and unfulfilled adulthood among the details. He is antisocial, though a palpable self-hatred sees him repeatedly attempt to overcome inadequacy (going on a ski holiday with friends and throwing an office party). He seems unable to relate to adults and much more comfortable in the company of young boys - who I suppose represent the only subset of the population he feels able to hold any semblance of control over or has anything remotely in common with (with his fondness for Christmas and racing cars).

He is not a monster, yet nor is he a victim, with the film resisting any easy classification of his behaviour or character. It is testament to the great skill of Fruith's restrained performance (pathetic but tinged with just enough threat) that the film can remain so mannered and almost neutral even when it comes to depicting the protagonist's molestation of a child.

Though we're never explicitly shown any of the acts themselves, it is strongly implied that Michael is having sex with the 10 year-old Wolfgang (David Rauchenberger), the miserable and angry blonde-haired child imprisoned beneath his home. Whereas 'Coming Home' sought to make its kidnapper marginally less hateful by having him express a lack of sexual interest in his young prey - eventually forming a consensual sexual relationship with his victim (a teenage girl) - 'Michael' does not cop out so spectacularly.

If you're going to address the perverse and uncomfortable side of humanity, and suggest that this chaotic and debauched assault on social values can lurk just behind the curtain of any seemingly normal family home (as is the case), then in order to do that effectively you must be frank about what that sinister face of humanity looks like. It makes for mercilessly uncomfortable viewing, but 'Michael' is not trying to make its protagonist or his actions palatable, even as it avoids the classic knee-jerk response of the lynch mob.

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

Mass Effect 3 endings: Questions better than answers?

As I explained in my last post, I've not really done anything film related over the past week due to the release of Mass Effect 3 - a sci-fi video game which concludes an epic trilogy which started in 2007 and has taken me (something like) a combined 100+ hours to complete. I've finished it now and, in lieu of anything filmy to talk about, I thought I'd share some of my thoughts on it here. Well, not so much on the game itself: mostly I wanted to talk about the furore surrounding the game's controversial ending.

I won't explain in any depth why the ending(s) is so controversial. After all, two smart chaps at Game Front have already done that over two incredibly comprehensive pieces in the last few days (see HERE and HERE), and whilst I don't agree with all of their points, they certainly make a very good case for the idea that the story's climax is - at the very best - flawed. (Though, for what it's worth, I think they overstate the amount of genuine "choice" and "freedom" present over the rest of the trilogy, with player choices always simplistic, binary and of little meaningful consequence even before this supremely botched conclusion. For instance the decision of whether to sacrifice Kaiden or Ashley in the closing hours of the first game was completely superficial, seeing as how both characters go on to perform the exact same role, speak the same dialogue, and make the same decisions.)

Anyway, the reason I bring this up on my film blog is that their main gripe ties into something I've wondered about for a long time, concerning whether it is better for a narrative to conclude with questions or answers. Director Terry Gilliam's passionate avocation of the innate superiority of the former has long been an influence on me. Here he explains (correctly) why Spielberg is less good/interesting than Kubrick, but much more popular:



In what can only be perceived as a slap in the face of Gilliam, a complaint the writers of these Mass Effect articles make - and one which is echoed in the substantial comments threads below both pieces - is that the story needed a solid resolution. The ending, the logic runs, is too open to interpretation and raises more questions than answers and this is a very bad thing indeed. In fact it's worse than that: it's an insult to gamers (etc etc etc). One of the writers, Phil Hornshaw, has even responded to several passionate comments below his piece, in each case (tellingly) choosing to reiterate that the success of the ending as it stands is "contingent on BioWare providing more ending content through [downloadable content]". In other words: the unresolved ending is only worth a damn if we're eventually going to get answers, and soon dammit.

This feeling of indignation is so vehement that a fan-led campaign called Retake Mass Effect has quickly raised over $50,000 for charity as it attempts to coerce developers BioWare into releasing an alternate ending. Their stated aims, as listed on their site, are very telling (underlining my own):

We believe:
* That it is the right of the writers and developers of the Mass Effect series to end that series however they see fit
However, we also believe that the currently available endings to the series:
* Do not provide the wide range of possible outcomes that we have come to expect from a Mass Effect game
* Do not provide a sense of succeeding against impossible odds
* Do not provide a sense of closure with regard to the universe and characters we have become attached to
* Do not provide an explanation of events up to the ending which maintains consistency with the overall story
We therefore respectfully request additional endings be added to the game which provide:
* A more complete explanation of the story events
* An explaination of the outcome of the decisions made, especially with regard to the planets, races, and companions detailed throughout the series
* A heroic ending which provides a better sense of accomplishment

Perhaps never has there been greater proof of what Gilliam is saying in the sense of what is popular: people clearly desire answers and a feeling of "success". There have been a lot of fans scrambling to make sense of the ending and vent their frustration at what BioWare have done, but the only voices (I have encountered) who seem to be defending the openness Gilliam-style are the developers themselves, who have come out admitting that they removed explanation from the final scenes believing it made the ending weaker and less memorable. They have admitted knowingly devising a "polarising" end to their story so as to generate (as Gilliam so relishes) a dialogue.

"Are video games art?" is that nebulous, maddening discussion that won't ever die. I come down, roughly, on the side that they probably are - but even I admit that the debate surrounding this issue is profoundly pointless. However, if the game's audience can not appreciate what might be termed a "Kubrickian" ending, then what does that say about the way games are consumed as a medium? Perhaps nothing at all. After all, Mass Effect is a blockbuster and a similar response might have been expected had, say, 'Transformers 3' ended as obliquely.

In any case, I guess what I'm getting at is this: I too was underwhelmed by the game's ending. I can understand first hand the desire to have closure on the story and to know the subsequent fates of characters who had (in a sad and strange way familiar to all RPG gamers) become my friends. Yet this massive fan outcry in favour of "answers" misses the point. It isn't bad that Mass Effect ends on questions - I'm still with Gilliam on that score - rather, it's that the questions is raises ("is Shepard alive?", "did he defeat the Reapers?", "what did his crew do next?") are so uninteresting and narrowly focused.: too embedded in the game's internal mythology, rather than any grander existential concerns. '2001: A Space Odyssey' Mass Effect is not. But I'm inclined to say nice try for not taking the easiest path, so far at least.

It remains to be seen whether BioWare chicken out and give the people what they want, as Spielberg infamously did in his cinematic re-release of 'Close Encounters', which took viewers inside the otherwise mysterious alien spaceship. Money talks, so I have a hunch they will. And I'll probably buy it too. I don't know what to think.

Splendor Cinema Podcast: 90th Episode and Facebook Page

Apologies for the overall lack of posts of late. A mixture of post-Berlinale film review burnout, my girlfriend being at home in the day over the last week, and the release of the Mass Effect 3 video game have seen me spending less time at my computer of late. With that in mind I thought I'd use the creation of a Splendor Cinema podcast Facebook page as a way to get something quick and easy up on my blog today!

So yes, please go ahead and "like" that if you're a fan of the Splendor Cinema podcast, or out of an altruistic desire to spread the word around, if you're so inclined. For those that aren't listeners, the podcast began at the start of 2010 and is hosted by Jon Barrenechea and I. We recorded our 90th episode the other day - a "show about nothing" in which we loosely discussed stuff we'd recently seen. It's basically just a semi-regular chance to hear a cinema manager and wannabe journalist talk about movies, the industry, award shows, and occasionally an inside angle on distribution. Over the past year guests have included Mark Kermode, 'Kill List' director Ben Wheatley, and several of our close cinephile friends.

Subscribe to the podcast on iTunes HERE.

Splendor Cinema Podcast #89: 'The Avengers' Retrospective

As mentioned last week, I am pant-wettingly excited about the upcoming 'Avengers' movie. Now called 'Avengers Assemble' in the UK, it's out here on the 27th of April and is the climax of an ambitious (and, yes, potentially highly lucrative) project which will see comic book style continuity coming to the big screen adaptations; uniting the heroes of 'Iron Man', 'Thor', 'Captain America' and 'The Incredible Hulk' under the banner of a super-powered dream team headed by Samuel L. Jackson AKA Nick Fury: Agent of Shield.

In fact, for those looking to get equally psyched about the whole thing, I've recorded a podcast about these movies, which you can download in iTunes here or stream here. I've talked/written about all them at length previously, so I'll just briefly sum up my feelings on each of them here and then say a little bit about what I'm hoping for from 'The Avengers' next month.

'Iron Man' (2008): Exciting, with an incredibly charismatic lead performance (from Robert Downey Jr), Jon Favreau's movie established the tone for the Marvel Cinematic Universe to date and its success made the whole 'Avengers' thing (first teased in a post-credits sequence on the original movie) possible. It's inherently right-wing, with its privitised vigilante using his lucrative weapons contractor business to sock Afghan terrorists in the jaw, but it was a thrilling movie - albeit with a weak finale. What a waste of Jeff Bridges, though wasting talented actors as thinly developed villains is a trend that would continue over the next two Marvel movies.

'The Incredible Hulk' (2008): Far less successful (commercially and artistically) was Louis Leterrier's Ed Norton starring attempt to re-boot the Hulk following Ang Lee's much derided earlier version. It's brash, ugly and a little incoherent, with Norton adding little of the acting heft to Bruce Banner that we might have hoped for - particularly as he helped write the script. Tim Roth is likewise wasted as the baddie, whose evil equivalent of the Hulk (Abomination) contributes to the boring (yet oft-repeated) spectacle of two CGI monsters punching each other a lot. On a side note, the film does at least feature a Downey Jr cameo, as Tony Stark comes to discuss the "Avenger Initiative" with William Hurt's General Ross. Which is nice.

'Iron Man 2' (2010): Favreau's sequel is, to put it kindly, a mixed bag. On one hand, Mickey Rourke is underused as the villain (Whiplash), and there is too much fluff in there building up the Avengers movie which does nothing to advance the main plot (the coffee shop scene with Jackson's Fury and the introduction of Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow). Yet on the other, it's nice to see Lt. Col. Rhodes (Don Cheadle replacing Terrence Howard) getting the chance to don his own suit and become War Machine. Sam Rockwell is also good comedic value as Stark's business rival Justin Hammer. A government committee into Stark's private use of his advanced weaponry is also interesting, even if the film's thesis is that the technology is better off in the hands of a private individual than Big Government (as represented by Garry Shandling). There's also the first real look at Tony Stark's legendary descent into alcoholism (which, in the comics, represented the first time a mainstream super hero suffered such a real world problem) A bit of a mess of a movie but there's plenty to enjoy.

'Thor' (2011): Kenneth Branagh did a lovely job with Thor, successfully turning one of the most outlandish characters - a Viking deity from outer space, with a magic hammer and a suit of armour - into someone who could reasonably fit in with Iron Man and company. As a stand alone movie it's probably the strongest of Marvel's efforts to date, boasting powerhouse performances from Anthony Hopkins, Tom Hiddleston and Natalie Portman, as well as a star-making turn from Chris Hemsworth as the titular hero. It looks gorgeous, it's pretty funny, the human drama actually has gravitas, and the project overall seems imbued with immense love and respect for the source material. The only slight gripe is a clunky scene in which Jeremy Renner's Haweye is established in a few otherwise needless shots. But that's a very small gripe.

'Captain America: The First Avenger' (2011): I fell in love with Joe Johnston's WWII-set film the first time I saw it and have seen it several times since. Not in the least bit annoyingly patriotic or militaristic, the film set up Steve Rogers (Chris Evans, who previously played Marvel's Flaming Torch in the ill-received Fantastic Four movies) as a really nice, sweet-natured guy who doesn't want to kill Nazis: he just doesn't like bullies. Despite a few commonly acknowledged flaws (an ending, and montage-reliant second act, geared more towards setting up 'The Avengers' than serving this one movie) the film actually makes me a little emotional, with its kindness and cynicism-free attitude. As a result it was one of my very favourite films of last year.

On 'Avengers Assemble': My hopes are set very high for this summer's tentpole movie, but here are a few things it has to do to avoid being a disappointment:

• Black Widow and Hawkeye, who haven't had the benefit of their own movies, need to be developed - potentially as a duo (seeing as how the are frequently paired up in the comics).
• This should add the human drama/character growth element that ought to be missing regarding the remaining heroes: we've already had entire movies introducing these guys so - beyond the issues that might be thrown up from their interactions together - I don't want to be told again who any of them are. With the possible exception of Bruce Banner, who has a new actor (Mark Ruffalo) and so perhaps needs to be re-established.
• However each character does have their own ready-made sub-plot waiting to bear fruit: Iron Man needs to learn to sacrifice his ego for the good of the team; Captain America will doubtless be dealing with the whole "everyone I ever knew and cared about is dead" thing; Bruce Banner needs to get control of his powers; whilst Thor has to deal with the fact that the film's super villain is his brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston) - which might lead to some resentment from his teammates, as well as calling his loyalty into question.
• I hope writer/director Joss Whedon doesn't make the characters speak like teenagers. He needs to retain the characters' already established voices, whilst resisting the no doubt strong temptation to make Cap more cynical. sarcastic and snarky this time around. If he has him quipping one-liners, that'll pretty much ruin the whole movie for me. A lot rests on the continuation of Steve Rogers as an unshakable pillar of integrity and niceness.
• There needs to be more to the movie than the trailers have so far suggested. Is Loki the only baddie? He's pretty awesome, but I hope not. The Avengers are called together when the odds are stacked too far against any one individual, but we've already seen Thor defeat Loki - so what else is there to this story? Who is behind the gigantic robots and spaceships seen in the trailers? They don't seen very "Asgardian".
• I'd also like to see some mention or screentime for supporting characters from each individual hero's film. Will Thor be dealing with his unresolved love for Natalie Portman's Earth-based scientist, or are they saving that for his sequel? Will the Warriors Three aid him on this quest in any form and, if not, why not? Or his father, Odin? What of Iron Man's newly equipped buddy War Machine? Surely he should be helping these guys out? I'm sure many of these characters won't feature, but there needs to be some statement of why.
• Likewise, and at the risk of being a little too cute and contrived, it'd be nice to see some acknowledgment of the fact that the peril New York is facing in this film is not attracting any aid from any of Marvel's other premiere super heroes. The X-Men, Fantastic Four, Spider-Man and Daredevil (to name a few) all live and operate in New York City. So, aside from the fact that Marvel don't own any of their rights as far as movies go, why aren't they lending a hand? It only takes a line.

Anyway, that's the last I'll go on about anything 'Avengers' related until release late next month.

Oh, and here's the German-language trailer which, for massive geeks, contains a few shots previously unseen in English-language versions (I know how sad that sounds... I'm sorry):

FilmQuest 2012 (11/30): 'Top Gun':

I'm aware this isn't a particularly original thing to say, but 'Top Gun' is very gay, isn't it? And I don't just mean the infamous beach volleyball scene or the fact that Tom Cruise has far more screen chemistry with his wingman (Anthony Edwards AKA "Goose") than with intended love interest Kelly McGillis. The steamy, overtly homoerotic exchanges between the film's team of elite Cold War fighter pilots include such aggressively macho lines as "your dick, my ass: we nailed that bitch!" and the memorable exchange: "This [briefing] gives me a hard on"/"Don't tease me!" Another pilot, during one of a thousand locker room scenes, candidly reveals that a list is as "long and distinguished" as his Johnson.

Later, a pilot compliments Cruises' "Maverick" on an especially risky flight maneuver, saying in a breathy voice "gutsiest move I ever saw, man" - a line that wouldn't be all that gay if it weren't backed up musically with the refrain from the film's love theme, "Take My Breath Away". More subtle, but no less gay, is a rack focus shot which sees "Maverick" in a flight classroom, looking over his shoulder at "Iceman": sizing up Val Kilmer in a way that is reminiscent of the way so many high school romance movies depict the top jock checking out the head cheerleader. Of course, there is nothing at all wrong with this homo-eroticism and nothing inherently hilarious about gayness, until you consider the film's intended devoutly heterosexual male audience.

Writing checks its body most certainly can't cash, 'Top Gun' is the latest entry in my "FilmQuest 2012" column and, produced by Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer, it very much establishes the archetype for subsequent action films like 'The Rock', as well as the military recruitment aesthetic of the entire Michael Bay oeuvre. It opens with by now familiar shots of US military personnel doing their duty, with the flight deck of an aircraft carrier shot in slow motion, backed up by triumphant and patriotic sounding music. A poster asking people to consider the "adventure" of joining the US Navy hangs on the locker room wall - and I doubt it's there for the characters (already serviceman). American military tech and jargon are endlessly fetishised, with Tom Cruise draped around fighter jets the way Hollywood stars usually advertise expensive wristwatches.

Feminists would quite rightly object to a film which suggested staying at home and obeying your man were essential to a happy, fulfilled life - and arguably 'Top Gun' is no less problematic. Here men are told: join the US military - it's damn sexy and super cool. It's a fantasy version of military service in which all the discipline is missing, even at an apparently "elite" fighter jet academy for the best of the best. Whenever Cruise breaks a rule he gets a stern talking to, but he's otherwise allowed to act as he pleases. Along with the volleyball, the karaoke, and the driving of high-end sports cars and motorcycles, "Maverick" seduces the driven career gal from the Pentagon (McGillis) and becomes a Cold War hero - whose face, we are told, will be on the front page of every newspaper in the English speaking (and therefore relevant) world.

The aerial photography is pretty outstanding however, with director Tony Scott serving up some really intense dogfight scenes. Even though I'm not usually one to get turned on by machines of war, I'd have to admit the fighter jets are pretty spectacular. The scenes in which they are piloted also seem (as far as I can tell, with no military or flying experience) pretty realistic: few planes, few explosions, and long moments of relative inaction. I mean, aside from the bit where he flies upside down against a Russian cockpit in order to give the guy the finger. "Maverick" and company don't take to the air guns blazing, but instead they get involved in quite drawn out and limited combat missions, usually without permission to fire live ammunition.

This being 1986, with the Cold War still raging, the enemy is vaguely defined. They are at least in league with the Soviet Union, flying MiG jets, but the enemy pilots we see are suited up like Darth Vader (complete with the heavy breathing) and never speak. The combat we see takes place over the Indian Ocean - which means the enemy could come from pretty much anywhere from East Africa to Southeast Asia. But who they are and what they are fighting for is not of any importance to this story. 'Top Gun' positions war as a glamourous, high-stakes backdrop to "Maverick's" personal story. All successes and failures are his own and ultimate victory is his. Even when a close friend dies it is he who is consoled by the widow and told to fly on.

Perhaps this is the crux of why so many American war movies get it wrong: war degradates the individual, taking away their rights and turning them into an expendable cog in a gigantic, terrifying machine. Yet war movies promote conflict as a an arena in which the individual can shine and grow.

FilmQuest 2012 (10/30): 'Dirty Dancing':

1987 sleeper hit 'Dirty Dancing' is actually a pretty sad film when you get down to it. It begins with "Baby" (Jennifer Gray, daughter of 'Cabaret' star Joel) narrating from a (presumably) discontented future, wistfully looking back at her more exciting youth, recalling a time when she didn't mind being called by her childish nickname. And it ends with a climactic dance number during which (most famously) the song "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" plays. HAD the time of her life, but it's all in the past now: a bittersweet memory. At least that's what I took away from this supposedly "feelgood" movie, where youth is king and anyone over 30 is an irrelevant dinosaur.

The latest entry in my "FilmQuest 2012" column, 'Dirty Dancing' is an odd one. Odd because though its blueprint to success has been emulated even recently, with choreographer Kenny Ortega going on to helm the 'High School Musical' trilogy and the posthumous Michael Jackson concert movie 'This Is It', unlike the recent wave of dance film descendants it concerns itself with social issues and a moment in history. The lack of unions for the film's nakedly exploited camp workers is bemoaned by our politicised heroine, whilst it's a rare mainstream American movie that admits the existence of social class, with the plot turning on Baby's upper-crust father's failure to accept Patrick Swayze's slick dance instructor - yesterday's leather-clad vision of cool.

With its 1960s setting, the film even charts the decline of Catskills-style holiday resorts, which offer little for the day's youth with their magic acts and talent competitions. There is even a subplot involving a backstreet abortion, which plays as a pro-choice argument from its makers. Which is not to say that it looks at any of these things with any degree of depth, but it's nonetheless interesting that the film is not anything like as vapid as its imitators. Indeed its core message of acceptance and the importance of "living your dream", whilst cliche, is eminently agreeable. Though, in conjunction with the aforementioned jaded future-narration, perhaps we can assume these dreams never truly panned out beyond teenage idealism.

But whatever. You've also got to admit that these guys can dance. That the late Mr. Swayze went on to star in such non-dance films as 'Ghost' and 'Point Break' speaks to the fact that he was a decent actor as well as a good mover, and Grey is also an appealing lead. Overall though 'Dirty Dancing' isn't really my particular cup of tea. I like dancing, but not really this kind of slow, supposedly erotically charged stuff (I guess I like what you might call "Jewish showbiz dancing"), whilst a lot of the training montage/sex scenes (such as the bit where Swayze is catching Grey in the lake) feel like the stuff of Mills & Boon fantasy. Perhaps, with its quotable lines ("nobody puts baby in the corner", "I carried a watermelon" etc) and the wish-fulfillment aspect for the largely female audience, it's the exact girly equivalent of something like 'Con Air'.

'The Avengers'/'Marvel Avengers Assemble' trailer:

I'm about as excited for the upcoming 'Avengers' superhero movie as it's possible to be, and the latest trailer (above) has done nothing to diminish my anticipation. In fact, my girlfriend and I are going on holiday to Rome at the end of April and I'm honestly more excited about getting back just in time for the film's April 27th UK release date. Which is pretty sad, I guess.

Now titled 'Marvel Avengers Assemble' on these shores, presumably to avoid confusion with the British 1960s spy series 'The Avengers' (already adapted into a universally panned mid-90s movie), the film sees Captain America (Chris Evans), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) combining forces to fend off a threat to our planet - with Tom Hiddleston's Loki, brother of Thor, so far the only known villain. If this is a big hit then it could be a real game changer - ushering in a new era of inter-film continuity projects, particularly in the superhero genre. Once Christopher Nolan finishes with Batman this summer, perhaps Warner Brothers will attempt a similar arrangement with the DC heroes?

It's certainly an ambitious move and it remains to be seen whether director/writer Joss Wheadon can make a satisfying individual movie juggling so many characters. Will he feel the need to introduce all the heroes again and, in so doing, undermine the previous movies? Or will the film be inaccessible for those not already versed in the Marvel universe? It's an intriguing problem and I look forward to seeing how (if at all) it has been solved.

With this, 'The Amazing Spider-Man' and 'The Dark Knight Rises' all sharing a single summer, 2012 looks set to be another year dominated by comic book heroes.

Pretty much sums up last night's Oscars for me...

The above celebration - recorded in an excitable Iranian household - of the Best Foreign Language Film win for 'A Separation' mirrors my feelings about last night's festivities. I'm pleased Woody Allen won the original screenplay category for 'Midnight in Paris', but would have preferred to see Asghar Farhadi's film triumph there too. Also raising a smile is the Best Supporting Actor win for Christopher Plummer and 'Beginners'.

I didn't stay up to watch last night's telecast, mainly because the prospect of staying up until 4am in the company of Billy Crystal to see 'The Artist' crowned the year's best movie just wasn't doing it for me. I'm not an Oscar hater at all (or even a Billy Crystal hater), for what it's worth. It's just that not being especially enamoured with 'The Artist' and doubting the chances of 'Hugo', 'The Descendants' or 'Moneyball', I fancied it would be a long night riddled with sighs and perhaps featuring a "thank you" to Margaret Thatcher.

That tribute to Thatcher didn't materialise though Streep did win the award as anticipated, whilst 'The Artist' scooped up Best Picture, Best Director (Michel Hazanavicius) and Best Actor (Jean Dujardin) - along with two others. Best Supporting Actress went to 'The Help' star Octavia Spencer. Scorsese's lovely 'Hugo' scored five technical awards. On the positive side, a win for 'The Artist' does contradict those troubling reports last month that the film might suffer a backlash from voters for being non-American, with the campaign told to play down the movie's Frenchness. Happily that doesn't seem to have been the case.

Meanwhile, on a tangentially related note, I fear for Sacha Baron Cohen, who "stole headlines" when he arrived on the red carpet as the character from his upcoming comedy 'The Dictator'...



It's not that I'm bothered on any level by that stunt, but just that Cohen's new character isn't particularly inspired and raises uncomfortable questions about national stereotyping. I thought 'Borat' was really funny because it seemed prejudice was the target of the jokes, with people's willingness to think the character was real being in some way an expose of ignorance. Yet "the dictator" is just a guy with a funny beard and an accent that wouldn't be out of place in those dreadful meerkat adverts. Hope the film proves me wrong.

'The Woman in Black' review:

The post-Potter presence of Daniel Radcliffe as the lead in this new film version of ghost story 'The Woman in Black' - already a hugely successful stage play - has no doubt been a considerable boon to box office takings so far. Aside from being an increasingly fine actor, Radcliffe has brought wider media attention to what is otherwise a low-budget, determinedly old fashioned British horror movie (from 'Eden Lake' director James Watkins) and, with the studio making cuts to secure a '12A' rating, has ensured that fans of his 'Harry Potter' movies are flocking to see it. Though this proves a double-edged sword, because seeing a horror movie in a room packed with one hundred plus 10-14 year-olds is far from ideal.

Though they left me with a thumping headache by the end, I did't actually mind the shrill screams that accompanied literally every single scare. In fact I'd go as far as to say it's nice to see a scary movie surrounded by people who are genuinely terrified: one of the pleasures of cinema is sharing an experience in this way. After all, comedies are much funnier in a room full of laughing people, whilst my only positive memory of Peter Jackson's turgid 'King Kong' is when the audience audibly shuddered at some of the big, disgusting CGI insects. What bothered me about the young audience for 'The Woman in Black' is that they were "at that age" where they were determined to be part of the fun and where laughing ironically at EVERYTHING is the default social mode.

It's difficult to get sucked into a Gothic horror atmosphere under these circumstances. If a fidgety schoolboy persists with shouting "dum dum duuuum" whenever the titular ghost lady appears it can be a bit of a mood killer. Ditto for the constant rustling of sweet packets and the kid down the end of my row who kept opening his carbonated drink in order to laugh at the fizz noise (before shaking it up again in order to recreate the magic). Even more annoying were the older couple behind me, whose wry comments about the noisy children were harder to filter out, being right behind my head and taking the form of conversation rather than isolated, random bursts of child-guff.

Yet even in spite of this less than ideal audience situation I found the film pretty consistently compelling. In places it's truly frightening, even if it is (by design) playing on oft-seen horror tropes. It doesn't do anything new but it does the old stuff very well. Radcliffe is a good fit for the protagonist, seeming both vulnerable and capable. Some are bound to find his youthful appearance and image as a boy-wizard a distracting incongruity, especially given that here he is playing a father, but I didn't find this to be a problem. At 22 Radcliffe is an adult who could feasibly have a child - this is simply a fact. If anything his most famous role compliments this one, with both Harry Potter and solicitor Arthur Kipps being of unfailingly good nature.

'The Woman in Black' is on general release in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.