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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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



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

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

RIP Tony Scott and a blog status update...

I have a new computer after over a month without, so - finally - BeamesOnFilm is back in action! This means a return to in-depth reviews, more regular content and should also see me complete my FilmQuest doo-dah (I haven't forgotten about it).

Turning briefly to a more sober topic, I wanted to register my condolences for the late Tony Scott. As I understand it, the 'Top Gun' director committed suicide last night and, speaking as someone with a long history of depression, it's a terrible shame that he felt driven to that point - for whatever reason (we may never know).

As a small form of tribute, here's a trailer for one of his most stylish and enjoyable thrillers - 'Enemy of the State':

'Nostalgia for the Light' review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love that scene and that movie.

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

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

Starting with...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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