With the news this week that Captain America: Civil War has already reaped over a billion dollars at the international box office – $1,059,936,681 as of today – it seems that the Marvel Cinematic Juggernaut is well and truly here to stay (not that there was any real doubt about that). Doctor Strange is due this November, but it’s unlikely that anyone thinks it’ll do the same kind of business; for that to happen again, Marvel themselves are probably looking toward the two Infinity War movies to bring in that kind of money. Which begs this week’s question:
Given Marvel’s current dominance at the international box office, is there any likelihood of their “dropping the ball” in the next few years and seeing that dominance wane, or are we probably going to be seeing, say, Phase 10 in 2048?
Cast: Ferdia Walsh-Peelo, Lucy Boynton, Jack Reynor, Aiden Gillen, Maria Doyle Kennedy, Kelly Thornton, Mark McKenna, Ben Carolan, Percy Chamburuka, Conor Hamilton, Karl Rice, Ian Kenny, Don Wycherley
A semi-autobiographical account of writer/director John Carney’s upbringing in Dublin in the mid-Eighties, Sing Street may well be the most enjoyable romantic drama (with extra added music and comedy) of 2016. The creator of Once (2007) and Begin Again (2013) has fashioned a delightful, appealing movie that offers very few surprises, but does so with a great deal of affection and charm. It’s a movie that leaves you with a smile on your face and wondering what happens to all the characters once the movie’s ended (at this point, a sequel featuring the same characters wouldn’t go amiss).
Carney’s on-screen incarnation is Conor Lalor (Walsh-Peelo). Conor is fifteen and part of a family that is on the verge of falling apart. His mother (Kennedy) and father (Gillen) are constantly arguing, his older brother, Brendan (Reynor), is unemployed and hasn’t left the house in ages, while his sister, Ann (Thornton), is wrapped up in her schoolwork and upcoming exams. For Conor, life has been so far uneventful, but a change in the family fortunes means his transferring from a Jesuit school to a nearby Catholic school run by the Christian Brothers.
Conor has a middling interest in music and gets most of his knowledge from Brendan. While trying to fit in at his news school, Synge Street CBS, Conor falls foul of the resident bully, Barry (Kenny), but is befriended by Darren (Carolan) who offers his services should Conor ever need them. Conor finds a use for Darren almost straight away; as they loiter at the school gates, Conor spots a girl across the street who, according to Darren, is unapproachable. Conor crosses the street and asks the girl – whose name is Raphina (Boynton) – if she wants to be in a video his band is making. Raphina is skeptical but agrees to take part in the shoot. All Conor has to do is put together a band (with Darren as their manager), and his efforts to woo Raphina can be put into operation.
Conor’s plan gets off to a good start when Darren introduces him to Eamon (McKenna) who’s a multi-instrumentalist. From there they recruit a keyboard player, Ngig (Chamburuka), a bass player, Garry (Rice), and a drummer, Larry (Hamilton). They call themselves Sing Street after their school and record a demo version of Duran Duran’s Rio. They shoot their video, and Raphina takes part. Conor is happy with the way things are going but Brendan is less than supportive. Challenging Conor to write his own songs for the band, and to adopt their own visual image, Brendan makes it clear that being a covers band will get them nowhere. Suitably encouraged, Conor trusts in his own abilities and the songs he creates with Eamon go a long way to improving both the band’s repertoire and their performances.
Conor and Raphina grow closer but the shadow of her planned move to London hovers over their relationship like a black cloud. And while the band become more proficient, and score their first public performance at the upcoming school disco, Conor believes he’s made enough of an impression on Raphina that she won’t leave, but when she doesn’t turn up for a video shoot, Conor learns that the life of a budding pop star isn’t as easy or as fulfilling as he’d hoped.
A breath of fresh air amidst a period when so many other movies are proving to be disappointments for a myriad of reasons, Sing Street is a welcome reminder that you don’t have to have a mega-budget or a host of household names (or be a sequel) to connect with an audience and become a success (if only a modest one). From its opening scene where Conor learns he’s moving schools, and which features the first of several very funny lines from Brendan, Carney’s look back at the highs and lows experienced by a lovestruck teen is simply yet expressively told, and features a clutch of winning performances from its mostly inexperienced cast.
It’s a richly satisfying movie, exploring the trials of young love, the naïve expectations of forming a band, and grounding it all in the relationships, particularly that between Conor and Brendan. Carney has created the older brother we’d all like to have, the wise-beyond-his-years confidant and source of encouragement we can all look up to, and Reynor comes close to stealing the movie out from under his younger co-stars. But Carney’s insistence on choosing a largely non-professional cast has paid off handsomely. Walsh-Peelo is excellent as Conor, his shy, diffident nature giving way to the kind of self-confidence so few of us attain at that age. As he woos Raphina through the lyrics of his songs, the depth and tenderness of Conor’s feelings are expressed in such a poignant, heartfelt way that the viewer can’t help but root for him. (It’s also great to see the young actor adopt the various hairstyles of the pop stars he seeks to emulate; no doubt viewers of a certain age will wince in recognition of their own tonsorial decisions.)
While the temptation is to label Sing Street as a musical, and while there are enough musical interludes to maintain that temptation throughout the movie’s running time, this is really about a romance borne out of happenstance and unexpected need. As such it succeeds admirably in portraying that first early flush of attraction and the disjointed emotions that often come with it. Conor’s motives are clear and unerring: he wants the girl. But in the grand tradition of all romantic endeavours, the course of true love is not allowed to run smoothly, and Raphina’s own dreams intrude on and interfere with Conor’s. It’s all handled with a seductive precision and an eye for the undisclosed feeling that makes Conor and Raphina’s relationship all the more credible, even if it is predictable in its outcome.
With the central relationships all being handled with a deftness of touch that shows just how far Carney has come as a director since November Afternoon (1996), the movie is free to concentrate on the music. Like all the best musicals, Carney, in collaboration with Gary Clark, has composed a handful of songs that both advance the story and reveal Conor’s developing feelings for Raphina. It’s helpful too that they’re all very well-written, and two songs in particular, The Riddle of the Model and Drive It Like You Stole It, have the potential to find a life for themselves outside the confines of the movie. Make no mistake – and one very poignant ballad aside – these are lively, enjoyable, sing-along tunes that have an infectious glee about them, as if both Carney and his talented cast had decided from the start that melancholy tales of woe and unrequited love weren’t needed at all. And you know, they were right.
Rating: 8/10 – some elements are too familiar from too many other movies to go unnoticed, but Carney imbues these elements with a wistfulness and an enticement that makes Sing Street very hard to resist; with toe-tapping musical numbers and several appealing performances courtesy of its young cast, it’s a movie that deserves a wider audience than it will probably get, and any movie that features a great joke at the expense of Phil Collins can’t be all bad.
Cast: Greg Stuhr, Alicja Bachleda, Camilla Belle, Matthew Broderick, Robert Forster, Janeane Garofalo, Grant Shaud, Harris Yulin, Joe Grifasi, Stephen Henderson, Kelsey Siepser, Robert Vaughn
Some movies give the impression that they should be longer, that their proper running time has been truncated during the editing and post-production process. These movies seem to be saying that there’s something missing, an element that would enable the movie to be better than it is, sharper, clearer, more dynamic, more interesting, funnier, darker, better focused all round. And then there are the movies where that same impression is made, but no matter how much you may think that a longer cut might be the answer, the truth is, it wouldn’t make a difference.
Such is the case with The American Side. It’s ostensibly a modern noir thriller, with many familiar elements to ground it in that particular genre. There’s a grizzled, world-weary private detective, Charlie Paczynski (Stuhr); a damsel in distress, Nikki Meeker (Bachleda), who knows too much and whose life appears to be in danger; a femme fatale, Emily Chase (Belle), who may or may not be on the side of the bad guys; two competing businessmen – Borden Chase (Broderick) (Emily’s older brother) and Sterling Whitmore (Forster) – either of whom could be the main bad guy; and a McGuffin in the form of a mechanical design by Nikola Tesla that could be used as a weapon. In some respects its noir business as usual, and while these familiar elements should allow for a degree of comfort in navigating the twists and turns of the script, in reality they’re only used to reel in any curious – potential – viewers.
Once the movie gets started, most viewers could be forgiven for thinking that The American Side, with its early murder of a minor character and Charlie’s determined attitude in finding their killer would be the kind of investigation that leads to corruption in high places, and the private detective realising that he can’t trust anyone. Alas, here, this is only partially true, as Charlie trusts one too many people in his quest to find his friend’s killer, and a wider conspiracy begins to make itself felt. Charlie also comes across as a little too gullible, a fact that doesn’t help him with his investigations, and which leads to his being easily fobbed off or deflected by everyone around him. And as the mystery deepens, the script – courtesy of director Ricker and star Stuhr – becomes an erratic mix of noir beats and muddled plotting.
It begins simply enough, establishing Charlie as a low-rent private eye who works out of a bar and who uses a stripper, Kat (Siepser), to help catch cheating husbands, who he then blackmails so that he receives payment from both the errant husband and the suspicious wife. It’s not a particularly lucrative business, and Charlie isn’t the most likeable of guys, but he gets by. But when Kat is killed by a man they both believe will fit the brief of cheating spouse, Charlie finds himself looking for a college professor called Soberin (Yulin) who’s mixed up in a plot to build a directed energy weapon designed by Tesla.
Sadly, what up til now has been a fairly straightforward, if gloomily shot movie, becomes a puzzle that goes off in various different directions, many of which lack a purpose other than to make things even more mysterious or inexplicable. Charlie’s own investigation sees him (traditionally) one step behind everyone else, but even when he does get up to speed the viewer is left with the sense that he’s only pretending to understand what’s going on, and in reality still doesn’t have a clue as to who’s doing what, and why. It’s not even that the plot, such as it is, is unusually complex. It’s that when explanations are forthcoming, and motivations are revealed, they just don’t make any sense. The viewer is left scratching their head and wondering if they’ve missed something.
Ricker and Stuhr’s intention seems to have been a pretty simple one: combine basic noir components with a low-budget indie sensibility and stir together accordingly. But there’s something missing from the recipe, and the movie ends up sacrificing clarity in favour of providing uneven twists and turns, some of which feel awkward and contrived rather than organic. As the plot unfolds, some narrative decisions prove so unwieldy that you begin to suspect the script is a first draft that no one got around to looking at for errors or inconsistencies. It’s a shame as there’s the germ of a great idea here, and Tesla was enough of a maverick inventor for any movie maker to “have fun with”, but Ricker and Stuhr use him sparingly as a character, preferring instead to refer to him constantly as an under-appreciated genius who knew what was best for the world.
One of the movie’s main distractions is the continual referral to Niagara Falls and its history. The Falls are used as a backdrop – Charlie catches up with Soberin there – and events there in the past serve as clues to what Tesla was up to with his directed energy weapon, but this inclusion leads to more questions than the script can answer, and it makes for at least two unsatisfactory moments at the movie’s climax (which is also set at the Falls). This fascination also explains the movie’s title: no one has gone over the Falls from the American side and lived. (Alas, this isn’t a metaphor for anything that happens in the movie.)
By making so much of the movie incomprehensible, or just plain confusing, Ricker and Stuhr have undermined their own project in such a comprehensive manner that the cast have no other choice but to make the best of it. Stuhr is a relaxed, no frills actor who’s not quite hard-boiled enough to make Charlie the anti-hero the script wants him to be, and he serves as the stooge in too many scenes where he should be in control. Bachleda’s role is underwritten, Belle struggles to keep her character on the right side of believable, while Broderick has his own problems with the kind of arch, mannered dialogue that even the most inexperienced of actors would run a mile from.
Under Ricker’s purview, The American Side ends up being a cumbersome, cruelly ill-considered movie that evinces little sympathy for its characters, and which proves very difficult to care about beyond a superficial level. It’s not a bad movie per se, just one that takes what should be a simple storyline and plot, and buries both of them under a pile of unnecessary implausibilities and contradictions. And it’s a movie where continuity screams excised scenes, as Charlie suffers head lacerations that happen entirely off camera and without being referred to by anyone. Somewhere there’s a longer cut of this movie, and someone needs to release it. Only then will the movie have a real chance of impressing its audience.
Rating: 5/10 – a film noir wannabe that neglects both its storyline and its plot, The American Side is so preoccupied with prolonging its inherent mystery that it can’t resist keeping it’s distance from the viewer; as a result everything suffers, and the movie never recovers from Ricker and Stuhr’s apparent insistence on filming their script as is.
Cast: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Oscar Isaac, Nicholas Hoult, Rose Byrne, Evan Peters, Sophie Turner, Tye Sheridan, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Lucas Till, Olivia Munn, Ben Hardy, Alexandra Shipp, Josh Helman, Ally Sheedy
It’s okay.
Rating: 6/10 – an average sequel that offers a muddled storyline complete with yet more disaster porn, the best thing you can say about X-Men: Apocalypse is that it’s competently made; without a strong emotional core to help the audience care about the characters, or a real sense of impending apocalypse to make the stakes all the more gripping, this is a sequel that fails to build on the good work achieved in the previous two instalments.
Cast: Casey Affleck, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Anthony Mackie, Woody Harrelson, Kate Winslet, Aaron Paul, Gal Gadot, Norman Reedus, Teresa Palmer, Clifton Collins Jr, Michael Kenneth Williams, Michelle Ang
Another script liberated from the Black List (this time from 2010), Triple 9 reaches us after having been optioned back in 2012 and with John Hillcoat firmly attached to the director’s chair. Back then, Shia LaBeouf was in place to play the lead, and Nick Cave was providing the score. But funding proved to be an issue and the movie languished in development hell until 2014 when financing was found and distribution rights were secured as well. Before then, LaBeouf left the project and was replaced by Charlie Hunnam, who in turn was replaced by Casey Affleck. During pre-production, casting choices also included Cate Blanchett and Christoph Waltz in the roles eventually taken by Kate Winslet and Woody Harrelson. And Nick Cave left as well, to be replaced by Atticus Ross.
All this is mentioned because Triple 9 is a movie that could and should have been better than the finished product. Whether or not it would have been with the talent proposed above we’ll never know, but upon consideration it’s unlikely it could have been any less disappointing. For a crime/action/drama/thriller with a top-notch cast and a director whose previous movies include The Proposition (2005) and The Road (2009), Triple 9 never really gets to grips with its own storyline, or makes the relationships between the characters at all convincing.
The plot revolves around the efforts of a Russian mobster’s wife, Irina Vlaslov (Winslet), to free her husband from prison. In order to achieve this she hires a group of men consisting of three criminals – Michael (Ejiofor), Russell (Reedus) and his brother Gabe (Paul) – and two corrupt cops – Marcus (Mackie) and Franco (Collins Jr) – to steal a safety deposit box from a bank vault. This they do, but Irina refuses to pay them because what was supposed to be in the box isn’t there, and instead she insists that they have to take on another mission: the theft of data about her husband from a government storage facility.
In order to do this successfully, Marcus suggests they employ a triple nine scenario, an officer down situation that would see all other available officers sent to that incident’s location. He chooses his new partner, Chris (Affleck), to be the fall guy for their plan, and he begins to set things in motion. Using a local gang member as a patsy, Marcus arranges for Chris to be at an abandoned housing project on the day of the theft, but his plan doesn’t work in the way he’d hoped: a triple nine call does go out over the air but it isn’t Chris who is the officer down. Meanwhile, Michael and Franco retrieve the data from the storage facility, but what follows is a series of double crosses as everyone involved in the theft acts in their own, often murderous, interests.
By the time these double crosses occur, the average viewer may well be wondering if they’re going to have anyone to root for. Certainly, Matt Cook’s well-regarded script seems hell-bent on eliminating as many of its lead characters as it can, and it may come as a surprise to discover just who is still standing come the movie’s finale, but with most of said characters getting what they deserve, each demise carries with it an increasing sense of ennui. It’s simply too difficult to care about any of them, whether it’s Ejiofor’s earnest gang leader, or Harrelson’s rule-bending detective. There’s not enough investment in any of the characters for an audience to identify with them or feel sympathetic towards them. Even Chris, with his arrogant sense of right and wrong, comes across as the kind of guy you’d avoid having a drink with.
There’s also the issue of the various sub-plots that are threaded throughout the movie, from Michael’s attempts to secure custody of his son – he just happens to have had a relationship with Irina’s sister, Elena (Gadot) – to Detective Allen’s (Harrelson) investigation into the bank robbery. While these and other sub-plots link together, they do so haphazardly and often without any sense that they’re always operating in the same milieu as the main plot or storylines. And it doesn’t help that, ultimately, the data in the storage facility (and the release of Irina’s husband) is treated like a McGuffin, used to drive the story forward but having no relevance over all.
With the script and the drama proving too unwieldy and convoluted – the lengths Marcus goes to in setting up Chris being shot take up too much of the running time and seem unnecessarily complex – the characters are reduced to loosely sketched mannequins, moving around and reacting to things as the whims of the script dictate. The final half hour should have most viewers scratching their heads in amusement at the clumsy way in which Cook tries to wind things up neatly and with a bow on top. Instead of providing the audience with a satisfying and thrilling ending, the movie fizzles out and ends with a whimper and not a bang. It’s a movie that starts off promisingly with a well-staged bank robbery and getaway chase, and ends with an unlikely (and dramatically inert) confrontation in a car park.
Thankfully it’s not all doom and gloom, though that’s definitely the world the characters’ inhabit. Against the odds there are good performances to be had, with Ejiofor and Mackie giving their characters a far better grounding than the script allows them, while Winslet exudes icy menace with almost every glance. Affleck and Harrelson work well together, and there’s sterling support from Paul as the gang member who develops a conscience when confronted with the reality of the triple nine scenario. Fighting against the material, Hillcoat does manage to imbue proceedings with a nervous energy, even if he’s not able to be consistent, and the action sequences, even if they are reminiscent of Heat (1995), are still rousing enough to impress. And finally, there’s Nicolas Karakatsanis’ superb cinematography, which adds a febrile intensity to Hillcoat’s nervous energy, making the movie a pleasure to watch for its visuals if not its story.
Rating: 5/10 – with precious little back story for any of the characters, and a sense that Cook’s screenplay needed another pass, Triple 9 is a hard movie to get to grips with; stubbornly lacking in focus, it unfolds with all the inevitability of a tragedy but without the emotional content that would make it all the more rewarding.
Cast: Ginnifer Goodwin, Jason Bateman, Idris Elba, Jenny Slate, Nate Torrence, Bonnie Hunt, Don Lake, Tommy Chong, J.K. Simmons, Octavia Spencer, Alan Tudyk, Maurice LaMarche, Shakira
Appearing out of nowhere to grab over $970 million worldwide, Zootopia is yet another reminder that when Disney gets it right, Disney gets it right and then some. In terms of Disney animation only The Lion King (1994) and Frozen (2013) have taken more money at the box office, while in comparison, Pixar have only one movie, Toy Story 3 (2010), that’s been more successful. Of course, there’s always the possibility that Zootopia isn’t as good as its success at the box office suggests. But the answer to that is: yeah… right.
Like so many Disney characters, Judy Hopps (Goodwin) is a bunny with a dream: to be a police officer working for the Zootopia Police Department. Despite no rabbit ever having even tried to join the ZPD, and despite the fears and worries of her parents (Hunt, Lake), Judy excels at the training academy and graduates top of her class. But when she arrives in the great city of Zootopia – where predator and prey co-exist in harmony – she finds that her presence isn’t exactly welcomed, by her fellow officers, and in particular, by her boss, Chief Bogo (Elba). While the rest of her colleagues investigate the separate disappearances of fourteen different animals in mysterious circumstances, Judy is given Meter Maid duties.
While making the most of this change of fortune, Judy meets Nick Wilde, a fox who proves to be a hustler. Judy wants to arrest him but Nick is too smart to be caught so easily. But when Judy promises to find one of the missing animals, an otter called – appropriately – Otterton, and Chief Bogo gives her just forty-eight hours to do so or she’ll have to resign, a clue leads to Nick being coerced into helping her look for the missing otter. The trail points to the involvement of the local crime kingpin, Mr Big (LaMarche), and a mystery involving the missing animals that sees them reject their peaceful lives and revert back to their primitive, predatory ways. Judy and Nick locate the missing animals and believe they’ve found their culprit, but in the aftermath, the pair fall out over something Judy says at a press conference. Judy resigns from the ZPD when she realises that she’s inadvertently made things worse – prey animals have less trust now in their predatory neighbours – and she returns home. But a revelation there sends her back to Zootopia where she seeks Nick’s help in solving the mystery of the “savage” animals for good.
The first thing to know about Zootopia is that it’s a Disney movie through and through. There are the usual themes of tolerance and understanding, and overcoming prejudice, as well as a mismatched couple who learn to respect and trust each other, but thanks to a confident, engaging script by Phil Johnston and Jared Bush, these themes are given a spirited polish and never once feel tired or laboured. The cleverest idea the script gives us is a central female character who has a dream that isn’t based around some old-fashioned romantic notion; instead, Judy’s ambition is to make a difference. She’s perhaps the first Disney character (male or female) to be both completely self-aware and selfless at the same time. Goodwin portrays her with such a delightful sense of sincerity tinged with playfulness that you can’t help but smile at the character’s naïvete, and cheer when she proves herself to the surprise of everyone around her.
Johnston and Bush’s script also gives us a great co-star and foil for Judy in the form of wily fox Nick Wilde. As played by Bateman, Nick is the kind of schemer the actor has portrayed several times before, but here he ups his game to make Nick both cunning and contrite at the same time, a neat trick that becomes more evident as the movie progresses. Like Goodwin, Bateman gives a charming, entertaining performance that benefits the movie greatly, and they share an enviable chemistry considering they’re giving vocal performances (and may not have even recorded their scenes together).
As usual with Disney – at least Disney under the leadership of John Lasseter – there’s a wealth of riches to be had, with moments that are among the finest of any animated movie made. From Judy’s carrot pen, to Nick’s son, to an app that lets anyone appear in a video with Gazelle (Shakira) (Zootopia’s leading songstress), to the Don Corleone-inspired Mr Big, to the naturalist club run by Yax (Chong), there are moments to treasure, as well as in-jokes for those paying close attention (Tudyk plays a crooked weasel called Duke Weaselton; in Frozen he played the treacherous Duke of Weselton). All of them, however, are overshadowed by one sublime moment of animation genius: the reaction of Flash the sloth to one of Nick’s jokes. This moment alone makes the movie worth seeing, and is one of Disney’s finest eleven seconds.
Visually the movie is stunning, with levels of detail and colour that are continually arresting (no pun intended), providing a rich palette for the eyes that never stops being entertaining. The sequence where Judy chases a fleeing Weaselton into Rodentia (unexpectedly) foreshadows Captain America: Civil War (2016) as she goes from one of the smallest animals in Zootopia to a veritable giant when placed amongst the denizens of that particular area. It’s an example of just how inventive and effortlessly thrilling the movie can be, and the humour that threads itself throughout the screenplay matches that invention, with jokes at every turn and enough visual gags to keep everyone happy, young and old alike.
Zootopia‘s central storyline is enhanced by its timely message of tolerance and understanding (a message Disney have been “timely” with for decades now), and its mystery is satisfying up to a point (attentive viewers will spot the movie’s villain from the moment they make their appearance), leaving the characters to take centre stage and provide the audience with one of the most enjoyable, satisfying and rewarding animated movies of the last few years. It has a sweet-natured tone that can’t be resisted, and does everything it can to give its audience a good time, something it never fails to do.
Rating: 9/10 – animated movie-making of the highest order, Zootopia is a funny, sweet, charming, beautiful to look at movie that never puts a foot wrong in its mission to entertain; with Disney making a movie that’s this good, the competition – Pixar included – must be wondering just what they have to do to topple the House of Mouse from its (currently) well-deserved pedestal.
Cast: Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Will Ferrell, Penélope Cruz, Kristen Wiig, Kyle Mooney, Justin Theroux, Cyrus Arnold, Benedict Cumberbatch, Nathan Lee Graham, Billy Zane
Zero
Originality
Or
Laughs
Applied,
Now
Don’t
Ever
Repeat!
2 (for the money)
Rating: 3/10 – Stiller and co re-team for another crack at making idiot male model Derek Zoolander funny – and still miss the boat, the dock, hell, the whole damn harbour; the above photo says it all, as Zoolander 2 strikes out by repeating much of the same material the original trotted out, and (using just the one example) by thinking that “jokes” such as Susan Boyle giving the finger to a bunch of paparazzi is equal to side-splitting hilarity.
Another in the weekly series designed to encourage debate on thedullwoodexperiment, where readers/followers/first-timers/anyone can air their opinions/views/thoughts on the topic/subject/idea in question. (Apologies for the lack of a Question of the Week last week.)
Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart were everywhere during the four years it took to bring the Twilight saga to the big screen, but since Breaking Dawn Part 2 bowed in 2012, both actors have (apparently) shied away from the kind of mega-movie experience that made them both household names. Pattinson has made five movies, mostly interesting and moderately successful at the box office, while Stewart has made eleven (four of which can be seen this year). She too has made some interesting choices, but like Pattinson, hasn’t exactly lit up the box office. They may be working on movies that offer them different challenges, and they may not be interested in how successful those movies are, but with Pattinson’s recent, embarrassing performance as T.E. Lawrence in Queen of the Desert (2015), and Stewart’s latest, Personal Shopper (2016) being booed at Cannes, this week’s question is:
Have the careers of Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart peaked with their involvement in the Twilight franchise, or will they achieve the kind of career longevity that will see retrospectives of their work in, say, thirty years’ time?
Cast: Märt Avandi, Ursula Ratasepp, Hendrik Toompere Sr, Liisa Koppel, Joonas Koff, Ann-Lisett Rebane, Elbe Reiter, Egert Kadastu, Lembit Ulfsak, Kirill Käro
The Fencer begins with a brief – but necessary – history lesson: during World War II, Estonia was occupied by Nazi Germany; most of the men were conscripted into the German army. When Estonia was absorbed into the Soviet Union, it regarded all members of the German army as war criminals, regardless of any extenuating circumstances. In the years following the war, Estonians who were known to have been a part of the German forces were tracked down by the Soviets and imprisoned.
Against this backdrop, the movie tells the story of Endel Nelis (Avandi), an Estonian and former championship fencer who was himself drafted into the German army, and who is now trying to avoid capture by the Soviets. He arrives in the small Estonian town of Haapsalu to take up a position as a teacher. His arrival is greeted with disdain by the school principal (Toompere Sr), and Endel soon finds that one of his extra duties, running the sports club, is paid lip service to by the principal, and his initial attempt to get the club up and running is undermined accordingly. But when he decides to teach fencing as part of the sports club, he finds nearly all the students turning up for the first session.
The principal is disconcerted by this show of enthusiasm, and mistrusts it, choosing instead to try and undermine its popularity at a parents meeting. While he alludes to dire consequences if the parents vote for the fencing to continue, the grandfather (Ulfsak) of one of the boys in the club, Jaan (Koff), encourages the rest of the parents to vote to keep it going. While all this is going on, Endel is visited by his best friend, Aleksei (Käro) who warns him that people are looking for him in Leningrad (where he’s come from). And Endel begins a tentative relationship with another teacher, Kadri (Ratasepp).
As time goes on, the children make enough progress that when one of them, Marta (Koppel), learns of a national fencing tournament to be held in Leningrad, and she wants Endel to enter them, it provides him with a diffcult decision: should he risk taking some of the students to Leningrad and being caught, or should he risk losing the faith the children have in him, and with it, witness the end of the club? (As if there’s any doubt as to what decision he’ll make.) Once at the tournament, the four pupils he’s chosen to compete – Marta, Jaan, Lea (Rebane), and Toomas (Kadastu) – show that the skills they’ve developed have a good chance of seeing them win the tournament outright. But the increased presence of armed guards throughout the building points to Endel’s chances of returning to Haapsalu as being even slimmer than he’d expected.
Directed by Härö from a script by Anna Heinämaa, The Fencer is a melancholy rumination on individualism and patriotic duty, with Endel as the protagonist seeking the kind of quiet life that everyone on the run wishes for, yet rarely attains. It’s a stately, deliberately paced movie that still manages to be impactful and modestly gripping. It has a keen sense of the story it’s telling, and makes its points about the Soviet Union’s totalitarian approach to socialism with understated precision, preferring to acknowledge small instances of the system’s control rather than focus on the larger examples that most other movies fall back on. It paints a broad picture of the times, the early Fifties, but adds sufficient detail to be both impressive and insightful. (This is best evidenced in the scene with the parents’ meeting, where the principal’s officious and condescending nature is contrasted by what is effectively the “will of the people”. His attempt at intimidation almost works, but Heinämaa and Härö ramp up the tension through the slow awareness of the parents that they have more power than the principal wants them to realise.)
Endel’s relationship with the pupils is developed naturally and without resorting to the kind of sentimental clichés that a Hollywood version might fall back on without thinking. Jaan looks up to Endel because his father is missing, while even the majority of the other children look upon him as a father figure, someone they can trust. But it’s Endel’s trust in them, his belief that they can be good, if not great, fencers that buoys their affection for him, and provides the movie with a great deal of its heart and soul. Even though he confides in Kadri that he’s not good with kids, that he doesn’t know how to deal with them, Endel still has an instinctive feel for dealing with them that allows him to forge such great relationships with them (though he’s not exactly the kind of teacher who maintains boundaries; instead he appears to make it up as he goes along).
At its heart, The Fencer is about doing the right thing, and doing it for all the right reasons, even if it comes with a personal price attached. Endel turns down the chance of moving on and hiding out in Novosibirsk, and it’s here that you begin to get the sense that Endel is finished with running, that with the sports club he’s found a place where he belongs (not to mention the love of a good woman). Endel can be seen putting his life and its value in perspective, and when he makes his choice near the movie’s end, he can be applauded for being true to himself and no one else.
As the beleaguered teacher, Avandi has a weary yet subtly engaged manner about him that is heartwarming and sympathetic. Endel is trying to do the best he can, and it’s easy for the viewer to root for him. Avandi’s sad, doleful features tell you more about how the character is feeling than any amount of exposition, and Härö takes every opportunity to focus on those features and weave a bit of acting magic. As the “villain” of the piece, Toompere Sr is a mean-spirited pedagogue stranded in a small town and seeking affirmation through adhering to the demands of the state. He’s a low man made even lower by his actions, but thanks to Toompere Sr he’s not a man to be hated (or even despised) but pitied instead; he’s as much a prisoner of fate as Endel is.
Once the movie arrives in Leningrad, and the tournament begins, Härö wisely drops the political and social elements for a solid, ever-so-slightly-gripping batch of fencing bouts that add a bit of zest to the pacing. The final bout is played out with élan, even if the outcome goes from being unpredictable to downright obvious halfway through, and the final coda provides a bittersweet ending that smacks of wish fulfillment on the makers’ part but at least gives the viewer the happy ending they’ve been hoping for.
Rating: 8/10 – a beautifully lensed movie that features a succinct, unpretentious yet absorbing screenplay, The Fencer can best be described as the kind of movie that sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise; it’s a quietly impressive movie that only falters when it tries to up the pace and be visually more dramatic, but this is a minor concern when weighed against the many, many, many things the movie gets right.
Cast: Cody Horn, Landon Liboiron, Kaley Cuoco, Meghann Fahy, Eli Vargas, Sasha Pieterse, Andy Buckley, Virginia Madsen, Wyatt Denny
One of the most popular stories both in literature and cinema – and the wider arts in general – is the one about the prodigal son (or daughter) returning home after a long time away. There will be family issues to face, people to tiptoe gingerly around, and reconciliations to be made, maybe even a few apologies. And it will be an emotional return for all concerned. For all the myriad reasons why someone should return home to face that kind of situation, the most overly used reason is because someone has died. In that circumstance, the pull is undeniable, and the lead character finds themselves drawn back to a place that they’ve done their best to escape from (and plan never to go back to). In its own way, this return is another rite of passage, even if the character is, say, forty or over, because it’s about acknowledging the past and coming to terms with it.
The main character in writer/director Matthew McDuffie’s bittersweet indie drama is Dylan (Liboiron). Dylan is in a relationship with Lauren (Fahy) but it’s not going so well. They’ve had a huge argument right around the time that Dylan learns of the death of his best friend in high school, Bodhi. He’s contacted by a mutual friend, Ember (Horn), who tells him she’s organising Bodhi’s fun-eral (not funeral). Feeling the need to get away for a while, Dylan travels from Chicago to New Mexico, and back to the town he grew up in. He reconnects with his dad, Buck (Buckley), but remains at a distance from his mother, Naomi (Madsen), who left them for another man. Also invited to the fun-eral is Katy (Cuoco), Dylan’s old girlfriend. Their relationship ended badly, but as the fun-eral approaches, he finds old ties hard to resist, and Dylan begins to experience some of the feelings he had for Katy before he left.
While Dylan, Ember and Katy spend time together arranging Bodhi’s send-off, Lauren follows Dylan down to New Mexico, while another friend of Bodhi’s, Miguel (Vargas) travels down by mini-van. On the way he picks up a stranded young woman called Aria (Pieterse); Aria is six months pregnant and heading to California to start a new life, but she agrees to accompany Miguel to the fun-eral. In the days leading up to the ceremony, secrets are revealed, and old relationships are thrown into sharp relief as Dylan faces up to his fears around commitment, Katy battles the drug addiction that is in constant danger of leading to her child being taken away from her, and Ember tries her best to keep her own hidden feelings from being revealed, and making things even more contentious.
There’s more than a whiff of Lawrence Kasdan’s The Big Chill (1983) about Burning Bodhi, but what’s interesting about this particular movie is the way that it makes communication between the characters both easier and more difficult because of their reliance on modern technology. When Dylan discovers that Bodhi has died, he does so via Facebook, and when he mentions Bodhi’s death to the people around him, it turns out they already know. If death is the great leveller then social media is death’s public relations officer, ready to disseminate news of its activities at the merest push of a button. It’s fast, it’s efficient, and it saves on all the phone calls.
As a step down from one-to-one conversations, the characters rarely use their phones to talk to each other either. Instead they send each other texts, and while this may seem like mass avoidance on everyone’s part, McDuffie is clever enough to make these exchanges the heart and soul of his movie. He shows how much more easy it is for Dylan and his peers to communicate with each other this way, and how easy it is for them to express their feelings, and more clearly. In one scene, Dylan and Katy exchange texts that explore the idea of their getting back together. Dylan is all for it, believing they can make things work, but Katy is unconvinced. As Dylan tries to persuade her to try again, and Katy resists the temptation, their feelings for each other, dormant but still there, are stated with such deep-rooted poignancy that the viewer can’t help but hope they get back together, even though Katy is right.
McDuffie doesn’t make his movie a talk-free zone however, and there’s plenty of verbal interaction to keep more traditional communicators happy, but he achieves more with his characters in terms of a look or a physical stance than he does with the somewhat over-written dialogue of the last fifteen minutes. Here the likes of Katy and Ember offer semi-profound insights into the nature of life and relationships, and with a side order of mortality thrown in for good measure. It makes them all seem wiser than their years, or that they all studied philosophy in high school (which doesn’t seem likely).
The cast embrace the various storylines with gusto, giving considered yet effective performances. Even Liboiron, called upon to be antagonistic and self-absorbed (aka a dick) for most of the movie, acquits himself well, and he manages to imbue Dylan with a lost puppy aura that offsets some of the more hurtful (and harmful) things he does. Horn is the type of upbeat, freewheeling young woman who should be really annoying, but the actress makes her the most sympathetic character in the whole movie, and she does so effortlessly (even when she’s trying to hook up a mutually unimpressed Dylan and Katy while Katy is doing community service). As the drug-damaged Katy, it’s Cuoco who nearly steals the movie, giving the kind of performance that reinforces the idea that there’s more to her than playing Penny on The Big Bang Theory. With her pasty face made pantomimic by the application of too much make-up, Cuoco allows the audience to view her with pity but not with any feelings of condemnation.
On the whole, McDuffie and the cast make good work of a narrative that, for all its careful construction, still appears lightweight in places, and this upholds the idea that the script is unlikely to provide anything to shock or cause concern in its audience. Viewers will be able to predict the movie’s outcome well in advance, not because McDuffie is a terrible screenwriter, but because, good as it all is, he doesn’t really take any chances with the material. This leads to a few scenes lacking in dramatic focus, and when a revelation is made about someone’s feelings or emotions, those feelings and emotions are usually left without being explored any further. This does mean a lack of emotional histrionics (which is a good thing), but it also means that a character’s reactions/demeanour aren’t as fully realised as they could be (which isn’t a good thing).
Ultimately, some lessons are learned while others are left by the wayside, and the fates of all the characters are left for the viewer to decide on, even if the script appears to be shepherding them in certain directions. The New Mexico locations are often beautifully lensed by DoP David J. Myrick, and there’s an unintrusive yet inquisitive score by Ian Hultquist that embeds itself in certain scenes and elevates the emotional content of those scenes with an ease that shouldn’t be ignored.
Rating: 7/10 – with its themes of forgiveness, regret and abandonment, Burning Bodhi may seem like it’s a movie with a message (though if it was, that message would arrive in a text), but instead it does its best to concentrate on the characters and how they can keep hurting each other while still loving each other; a few narrative stumbles here and there stop the movie from being awards-worthy impressive, but as a feature debut for Matthew McDuffie, it’s a good indicator that his next movie should be one to watch out for.
Cult movies are often beloved by their admirers beyond all other movies – passionately, fiercely, and with little truck for anyone or anything that tarnishes that movie’s reputation or their belief in it. Tell a fan of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) that anyone who attends a midnight screening in costume is a few sexual peccadilloes short of an orgy, and you’re likely to be slapped round the face with a posing pouch. But cult movies, by the nature of their fans’ love for them, will often attract producers with an eye to making a quick buck by exploiting said fans’ love and affection. Here’s one such movie, apparently made with the best of intentions but which in practice proved to be as far from those intentions as it’s possible to get.
S. Darko (2009) / D: Chris Fisher / 103m
Cast: Daveigh Chase, Briana Evigan, Jackson Rathbone, James Lafferty, Ed Westwick, Matthew Davis, John Hawkes, Bret Roberts, Elizabeth Berkley
By now – unless they’re trapped somewhere in the Fragmentary Universe – fans of Donnie Darko (2001) will have realised or heard that S. Darko is a less than satisfactory follow up to Richard Kelly’s surreal mindbender of a movie. With zero involvement from Kelly himself (not even a “good luck guys!”), this independently made sequel was created with the intention of taking place in “a similar world of blurred fantasy and reality”. Watching the movie, one thing is abundantly clear: neither director Chris Fisher nor screenwriter Nathan Atkins has any real idea of the world that Kelly created for Donnie Darko, or more importantly, the elements that made it all work.
The worst idea they have is to focus on Donnie’s younger sister, Samantha (Chase), as if by using one of Kelly’s original characters (and persuading the original actress to return to the role) it will lend their movie a degree of legitimacy it otherwise wouldn’t have. That this doesn’t work is evidenced by the way in which the character is treated. Samantha has run away from home, aged seventeen, with her best friend Corey (Evigan). When their car breaks down in Utah, the two friends accept a lift into the nearest town, Conejo Springs. Once there, Samantha finds herself sleepwalking; in this state she sees a future version of herself talking to a disturbed man nicknamed Iraq Jack (Lafferty). She tells him that the world will end in a few days’ time on July 4th.
Aside from passing on these messages, Samantha tends to wander aimlessly around town bumping into various locals and being treated like a bystander in her own storyline. She does get involved in the mystery of a missing child but it’s a subplot that, like large portions of the movie, hasn’t been thought through enough, and it feels like a distraction from the larger story. References to Donnie are made but Samantha’s reactions are muted, as if both Atkins and Chase don’t really know how to articulate her feelings over what happened to him at the end of Donnie Darko. What the script does do however, is saddle both the character (and the unfortunate Chase) with little motivation and even less development, preferring instead to treat Samantha in a callous (and careless) manner not once but twice (you’ll know how when you see the movie – not that you should, of course).
Atkins’ script is further muddled by its end of the world plotting, incoherent notions of time travel, secondary characters such as creepy bride of Jesus Trudy Kavanagh (Berkley), and inclusion of local nerd Jeremy (Rathbone) who develops a nasty looking rash that remains unexplained and immaterial to the narrative. There are further problems that Atkins can’t overcome, but the main one is his inability to craft dialogue that sounds like a real human being would say it. Here’s just one deathless exchange, between Samantha and local bad boy Randy (Westwick):
Samantha: I didn’t tell you something before. My brother died too. I was ten. Ever since that day, nothing’s ever been the same.
Randy: Never will be. We can’t change that.
Samantha: Think it’ll ever get easier?
Randy: Probably get worse.
Samantha: Maybe it’s up to us.
Randy: No.
Samantha: Wake up, start over?
Randy: I wish I could believe that. We have the same holes in our hearts, you and me.
That exchanges like that one are delivered with such po-faced sincerity makes it almost impossible to take the movie seriously. It’s like watching a teen movie where the leads are trying to make sense of relationship issues rather than fathom the mystery they’re all involved in. The plot – such as it is – is developed in fits and starts, and in such a haphazard manner that when it’s all wrapped up neatly (and with the cinematic equivalent of a bow on top), the viewer who’s managed to reach the end will be wondering what the previous ninety-five minutes were all about (or for).
Fisher may well be a fan of Kelly’s (emphasis on the) original movie, and he and Atkins may have set out to make a companion piece to that movie, but they show their complete lack of understanding of what made Donnie Darko such an extraordinary experience at every turn. Even on its own merits the movie struggles to perform effectively, with Fisher failing to inject any tension into the material, and leaving scenes feeling listless and uninvolving. The spirit of the original is missing entirely, as is the sense of mystery and chaos just beyond the veil of everyday life. And anyone waiting to see Frank put in an appearance, be prepared for disappointment; here his presence is entirely symbolic.
Rating: 3/10 – while using time lapse shots of clouds as indications of a portentous enigma may work in some movies, in S. Darko it merely serves to remind viewers of just how devoid of purpose and originality the movie really is; jumbled and unnecessary, it’s a movie that doesn’t even try hard enough to match its predecessor for subtlety or thought-provoking drama.
There are dozens of sequels that turn up uninvited, years after their predecessor was first released. Some arrive without any kind of fanfare, while others appear with all the promotional backing available under the sun. Beware of those that arrive under the latter circumstances – sometimes the hype is designed to grab as much at the box office as the movie can manage before word of mouth kicks in and people begin to realise the movie is one to avoid. When the movie in question is a belated sequel to a much-loved original, any abundance of hype is perhaps the biggest clue that the sequel should be avoided. Here is one such example, a movie that came along seventeen years after the original, and still begs the question, why? (Read on for the answer.)
Cast: Diego Luna, Romola Garai, Sela Ward, John Slattery, Jonathan Jackson, Mika Boorem, January Jones, René Lavan, Patrick Swayze, Mya
If you watch the opening credits of Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights closely, you’ll find that one of the producers is called JoAnn Fregalette Jansen (she also has a small, non-speaking role in the movie itself). Jansen lived in Cuba, aged fifteen, during the period the movie is set in, 1958. Playwright Peter Sagal wrote a screenplay based on Jansen’s experiences of the Cuban Revolution, and her relationship with a Cuban revolutionary. The screenplay was titled Cuba Mine and was a serious examination of the events that occurred in Cuba at the time, and how the country’s political idealism became polluted by the Communist ideology that replaced the more liberal regime that existed in the Fifties.
The script was commissioned by Lawrence Bender in 1992. Bender was fresh from the success of producing Reservoir Dogs (1992), but the script went unproduced until Bender revisited it again ten years later. However, Sagal’s script was only used as the basis of a completely new script by Boaz Yakin and Victoria Arch. The end result? A disastrous attempt to recreate the magic of Dirty Dancing (1987).
With the original having proved so successful, and having gained a place within the cultural zeitgeist (“Nobody puts Baby in a corner”), a sequel was always likely to appear eventually, but this is a movie that spends its thankfully short running time replicating the original’s storyline instead of coming up with something new. It’s the eternal problem facing sequels everywhere: how to combine enough DNA from the original movie with newer, fresher elements to make a satisfying whole. Sadly, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights is a sequel that can’t even assemble enough DNA from its predecessor to make much of a difference. It’s perfunctory, lazy, and lacks impact.
It also has a hard time doing the one thing that it should get right above all else, namely the dance routines. Thanks to the movie’s Cuban setting, the music and dance numbers are meant to be energetic, effortlessly fluid, and somewhat mildly erotic, but thanks to the movie’s determined efforts to edit the dance sequences into bite-sized shots that often don’t match the moves on show immediately before and after each shot, the very elements that are meant to draw in an audience are undermined from the word go. Now this could be a conscious, artisitic decision made by director Guy Ferland and his editors, Luis Colina and Scott Richter, in which case the trio have no idea of how to put together a dance sequence; or it could be that Luna and Garai’s moves weren’t quite as impressive as everyone hoped and they needed a little “help” in looking so accomplished (you decide).
Elsewhere the movie is equally determined to rely on cinematic and cultural clichés in order to tell its story. If the movie was even remotely realistic, it would be easy to believe that, before the revolution, all Cubans were happy-go-lucky souls who never tired of singing and dancing on pretty much every street corner. There are moments of casual racism that don’t amount to anything in terms of the drama, as well as cursory references to the political struggle happening at the time. Luna’s hotel waiter, Javier, evinces his distrust of Americans only until Garai’s preppy Katey waves the lure of competition prize money under his nose, while Katey’s family hang around in the background waiting to be given something to do.
The performances are average, with Luna and Garai developing an uneasy chemistry that seems more convincing on the dance floor than anywhere else, while Ward and Slattery get to play good cop/bad cop once Katey’s relationship with Javier is revealed (the scene in question is notable for playing like an outtake from a TV soap opera). Spare a thought though for poor old Patrick Swayze, co-opted into the script as a dance class instructor who gets to show Katey some moves before being reduced to providing reaction shots during the dance competition. Swayze looks uncomfortable in his scenes, as if he’s having second thoughts about being in the movie but also realising it’s too late to back out.
The movie is a sloppy mess, shot through with an earnest quality that wants to be taken for drama. But like so much on display it’s often involuntary, as if the various elements of the screenplay were put together in a blender rather than a word processor. Ferland directs it all with little or no attention to the emotions of the characters – Garai spends quite a bit of time looking upset but gets over it all just as quickly as it’s started – but at least he manages to make the Puerto Rican locations look suitably beautiful, throwing in wondrous sunsets and sunrises with giddy, artistic abandon.
Rating: 3/10 – unimaginative, even in its dance routines, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights lacks a compelling storyline and characters to care about; with so many aspects not working to their full potential, the movie proves to be inferior in almost every way to its predecessor – and no one should be surprised.
NOTE: The current For One Week Only is taking a well-deserved break after its Disney sequel marathon yesterday; it’ll be back tomorrow.
Once he’s reprised his role as Batman in Suicide Squad, Ben Affleck will next be seen in this odd thriller about a maths savant who works as a forensic accountant by day and is a hired assassin by night (of course). Working for the bad guys works out okay, but when Affleck’s character, Christian Wolff, takes on a legitimate client, things take a more deadly turn. It doesn’t help that Christian is also being pursued by the Treasury Department (led by J.K. Simmons). Whether or not this will be any good is open to conjecture, but Warner Bros. have put back its original release date from 29 January to 14 October, suggesting that there’s not the complete confidence in it that you might expect. It does have a great cast, with Anna Kendrick, Jon Bernthal and John Lithgow in support, and director Gavin O’Connor did a good job in taking over on Jane Got a Gun (2015), so this does have bags of promise at least. Perhaps a bit of finger-crossing is in order, then.
An adaptation of the novel by Ben Fountain, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk has a lot to recommend it. It’s the first feature from Ang Lee since Life of Pi (2012), it has a supporting turn from Vin Diesel which should remind people that away from muscle cars and a certain genetically-enhanced murderer he’s a much better actor than he’s given credit for, and has been filmed in 4K, 3D and 120fps. Early footage shown at the National Association of Broadcasters show in Las Vegas last month was greeted with the kind of superlatives that make this a shoo-in at next year’s round of awards ceremonies. Away from the technical side though, this looks to be an emotional and compelling look at the differences between the realities of war and perceptions reached at home, and features a break-out performance from newcomer Joe Alwyn as Billy Lynn.
Another literary adaptation, this time from the novel by M.L. Stedman, The Light Between Oceans is the latest from director Derek Cianfrance, who gave us Blue Valentine (2010) and The Place Beyond the Pines (2012). It’s a heartfelt tale of impassioned romance, parental loss, uncontrollable grief, and a gift from the sea that brings with it a painful moral dilemma. Michael Fassbender and Alicia Vikander are the couple making a difficult choice in the midst of overwhelming grief, while Rachel Weisz is the widow whose recent loss threatens their regained happiness. The movie looks beautiful thanks to Justin Kurzel’s go-to cinematographer Adam Arkapaw (he also shot the first series of True Detective), and the period settings – post-World War I Western Australia – appear to have been lovingly recreated. If everything turns out as hoped, then this too will be sparring for awards come the beginning of 2017.
Between 1937 and 1990, The Walt Disney Studios produced twenty-four animated movies, all of them original features. In all that time the only movie Disney had any plans to follow up with a sequel was Fantasia (1940). Having resisted any temptation during those fifty-three years to make a sequel to any of their animated movies, the company made an odd choice for their very first: The Rescuers Down Under (1990). It under-performed at the box office, and since then, only two further entries in the Animated Classics series have been sequels: the long-awaited Fantasia 2000 (1999) and Winnie the Pooh (2011).
But in the Nineties, and away from their Animated Classics, Disney embraced the idea of direct-to-video sequels with a vengeance. The first to be released was The Return of Jafar (1994), a clumsy attempt to capitalise on the success of Aladdin (1992); it was followed by the slightly better Aladdin and the King of Thieves (1996), which proved to be commercially successful. More direct-to-video movies followed, and the House of Mouse, through either its Disney Televison Animation or DisneyToon Studios arms, released a welter of movies that often bore little relation to the originals they were trying to imitate/emulate. The following movies were all released between 1998 and 2006, and are all prime examples of a studio trampling all over its legacy as a creator of some of the most beloved animated movies – hell, just movies – of all time. These are the sequels that have yet to be followed up by another movie that further devalues the original.
Pocahontas II: Journey to a New World (1998) / D: Tom Ellery, Bradley Raymond / 72m
Rating: 5/10 – neither better nor worse than Pocahontas (1995) – which wasn’t that great to begin with, this sees the same awkward mix of New World politics and cute animals transported to London as Pocahontas strives to avoid conflict between England and the Colonies; the animation is flat and drab to look at, without the attention to detail of an Animated Classic, and the story itself is unsatisfactory, leaving the viewer to tread water waiting for something more interesting to happen (which it doesn’t).
Hercules: Zero to Hero (1999) / D: Bob Kline / 70m
Rating: 3/10 – a compilation movie with three stories acting as an introduction to Hercules: The Animated Series, this is basic is as basic does, with little charm or imagination to help the viewer along; another example of poorly designed and executed animation, it’s a sequel in name only, and seems to have been made as a way of grabbing as much cash as possible before word got around as to how bad it is.
Lady and the Tramp II: Scamp’s Adventure (2001) / D: Darrell Rooney, Jeannine Roussel / 66m
Rating: 3/10 – the offspring of Lady and Tramp gets into all sorts of trouble when he joins a gang called the Junkyard Dogs in an effort to be a “wild dog”; a better-than-average cast that includes Chazz Palminteri, Mickey Rooney, Cathy Moriarty, Bronson Pinchot, and Frank Welker can’t rescue this mongrel of a movie as it completely ignores what made the original such a classic and spins a tale so dull and uninspired you’ll be hoping the entire canine cast will end up with distemper.
Return to Never Land (2002) / D: Robin Budd, Donovan Cook / 72m
Rating: 3/10 – released theatrically (although it’s hard to see why), this did well enough to be regarded as a minor success, but it’s still a drab, forgettable movie with none of the charm or energy of the original; the story lacks the kind of forward momentum that keeps the viewer interested, and as Peter Pan, Blayne Weaver gives the kind of vocal performance that makes you wonder if he was given any direction whatsoever.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame II (2002) / D: Bradley Raymond / 69m
Rating: 3/10 – fans of the original will be horrified to see how shoddy the animation is in this equally horrifying sequel that makes a mess of its basic storyline, as Quasimodo (a returning Tom Hulce) is embroiled in a plot to steal Notre Dame’s most famous bell; there’s a lot of filler here, and despite most of the original cast returning along with Hulce, it’s a movie that struggles to engage the audience or provide a solid reason for staying with it ’til the end.
101 Dalmatians II: Patch’s London Adventure (2003) / D: Jim Kammerud, Brian Smith / 74m
Rating: 4/10 – despite a stronger storyline than most direct-to-video sequels, this is still a baffling mix of the original’s use of Cruella de Vil and the shenanigans prompted by Patch’s need to seek adventure outside his family (a la Scamp); with two stories being told the movie ends up letting itself down by not paying full attention to either, and the animation is as uninspiring as previous direct-to-video releases.
The Jungle Book 2 (2003) / D: Steve Trenbirth / 72m
Rating: 4/10 – despite replaying large chunks of the original, and having some of the flattest, blandest animation of any of the sequels listed here, The Jungle Book 2 was surprisingly given a theatrical release; however, this isn’t an excuse to believe this is a superior product, as it displays a reluctance to be inventive or smart, and instead trades off the goodwill created by the original.
Atlantis: Milo’s Return (2003) / D: Victor Cook, Toby Shelton, Tad Stones / 78m
Rating: 3/10 – although Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001) wasn’t quite the success Disney had hoped for, it still had a certain charm, thanks to Michael J. Fox’s performance and its quaint, steampunk aesthetic; this sequel, made up of three episodes of a TV series that was never completed, shows Disney trying to make something out of nothing, and the result is a sequel that never gels or satisfies thanks to its piecemeal nature.
Rating: 2/10 – one of the poorest of all the direct-to-video sequels, Mulan II is simply dreadful, and begs the question why Disney thought it should have been released in the first place; the script is a muddle of ideas around arranged marriage and loyalty that not even the usually talented voice cast can do anything with, and Rooney and Southerland prove that having two directors doesn’t always guarantee the required level of quality.
Kronk’s New Groove (2005) / D: Elliot M. Bour, Saul Andrew Blinkoff / 72m
Rating: 3/10 – lightweight in both its script and its performances, this sequel to The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) has a storyline that underwhelms consistently and lacks energy; the songs are underwhelming too, while the returning cast – like others before them – aren’t given the freedom to make more of the material than is on the page, all of which leads to a sequel that proves a chore to sit through.
Bambi II (2006) / D: Brian Pimental / 75m
Rating: 3/10 – set during the events of Bambi (1942), and following the death of Bambi’s mother, this ode to single parenting suffers from an agonising sense of its own seriousness and vocal performances that give new meaning to the term “lifeless”; it suffers too from having a visual style that is blander and weaker than that of its predecessor, leaving it feeling and looking even more turgid than it already is.
Brother Bear 2 (2006) / D: Ben Gluck / 73m
Rating: 3/10 – by this stage, Disney’s consistency in churning out pale imitations of its Animated Classics is beginning to become noteworthy in itself, and this sequel to a movie that didn’t exactly set the box office alight is another case in point; only sporadically engaging, and with a soundtrack that practically screams “lacklustre”, Brother Bear 2 has a better rep than most Disney sequels, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that this is still disappointing from start to finish.
The Fox and the Hound 2 (2006) / D: Jim Kammerud / 69m
Rating: 3/10 – Tod and Copper: The Early Years (as this could have been called) aims for a high degree of sentimentality and in doing so, makes watching the movie more hard going than it needs to be; recycling ideas from the Lady and the Tramp and 101 Dalmatians sequels, this has all the feel of a contractual obligation as Kammerud puts the characters through the motions, and the script busies itself with saying nothing of interest or importance.
Horror movies – God bless ’em for their ability to have audiences shaking their heads in frustration as yet another group of teens head off to the haunted woods/abandoned building/kill zone of their choice, only to have their now ritualised behaviours interrupted and curtailed by whichever masked serial killer/escaped demon/demented whackjob happens to be lurking nearby. (And before anyone complains, yes, that description doesn’t cover every horror movie, but it is indicative of a great deal of modern “horror”; the true horror is that these tired, hoary old storylines are trotted out time and again.)
With horror movies becoming increasingly derivative and lacking in originality, the idea of watching one of them with a number at the end of the title isn’t exactly thrilling. Horror sequels rarely ever live up to the promise that may have been delivered by their predecessor, and it’s a very rare horror sequel indeed that expands effectively on, or outstrips, its parent. Not even the prospect of the same writer/director at the helm is a guarantee of quality. Here’s one example of a horror sequel that was much anticipated, but which didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations.
The Wicker Tree (2011) / D: Robin Hardy / 96m
Cast: Britannia Nicol, Henry Garrett, James Mapes, Lesley Mackie, Clive Russell, Graham McTavish, Jacqueline Leonard, Honeysuckle Weeks, Christopher Lee
The Wicker Man (1973) is an acknowledged horror classic, a brooding, unsettling movie that lingers in the memory, and features one of Christopher Lee’s finest performances. The news that the movie’s writer/director Robin Hardy was working on a sequel first surfaced in 2002, and Lee was set to return as Lord Summerisle. But problems with financing kept the movie from being made, and Hardy turned his screenplay into a novel (unfortunately titled Cowboys for Christ). Hardy next adapted his novel into the screenplay that was used for The Wicker Tree, and it’s this process that perhaps gives the best clue as to why the movie doesn’t work as successfully as it should.
Returning to themes set around the belief in paganism in the modern world, The Wicker Tree could, and perhaps should, have been a worthy follow-up to Hardy’s classic original. But the flaws are there from the beginning, and it’s not long before the viewer has no option but to realise that this sequel isn’t going to live up to expectations. Hardy’s story is as basically simple as in The Wicker Man: a religious individual finds themselves caught up in a pagan community, and learns that they are being used as part of a fertility rite that will ensure the community’s survival. But where The Wicker Man had subtlety and a well-judged sense of impending doom for its central character, The Wicker Tree lacks both these elements, and struggles to establish itself as a worthy successor. Part of the problem is the central character of Beth (Nicol), an evangelical Christian from Texas. Thanks to Hardy’s script, and Nicol’s performance, Beth is a character we never get to really know or sympathise with. With no one to root for, or get anxious about, the movie lacks tension as a result.
There’s also a problem with another character, Sir Lachlan Morrison (McTavish). Originally meant to be played by Christopher Lee, the role is this movie’s equivalent of The Wicker Man‘s Lord Summerisle. But Hardy doesn’t do enough with the role to give McTavish a chance of making him as mesmeric as Lee, or as quietly chilling. McTavish was originally meant to play the role of Morrison’s butler, Beame (Russell), but when Lee was unable to fill the part, McTavish was “promoted”. In doing so, Hardy appears to have recast the part without rewriting the character to match the actor’s skill and ability (McTavish isn’t a patch on Lee). This leads to scenes where McTavish looks uncomfortable, and where his credibility is often in question.
The actions of the community lend themselves to some unfortunate moments of unintended levity, and the May Day celebrations that will culminate in another sacrifice. There are too many of these moments for comfort, and Hardy seems unable to recognise that these are hurting the movie rather than supporting it. Echoes of the first movie abound, but lack a similar effect: where Britt Ekland’s naked dance is rightly remembered for its eerie, yet uncompromising sexuality, here we have Honeysuckle Weeks topless in a river; with apologies to Ms Weeks, it doesn’t evoke the same response.
Tonally the movie is all over the place, with scenes not having even the barest impact and the plot being propelled forward without any sense that there’s a real through line. As it moves forward, the movie struggles to maintain a sense of the impending horror that awaits Beth come May Day, and although knowledge of the first movie isn’t necessary, the fact that it does exist, and that it is so good, makes Hardy’s mistreatment of his own material so hard to understand. He’s like a man adrift, failing to connect with a story that he’s spent so much time developing, and that translates to the screen. In taking so long to get his movie to the screen it appears that he’s lost sight of almost everything that made The Wicker Man so compelling.
Rating: 3/10 – a movie that makes you wonder just how its creator could have got it so badly wrong, The Wicker Tree is a lumpen, dreadful mess full of equally dreadful performances, and a storyline that defies logical appreciation; that it tarnishes the memory of The Wicker Man is bad enough, but being a bad movie through and through is worse still.
When talking about sequels, two genres seem to be referred to more than any others: horror and comedy. They’re cheap to make, don’t always require big names to attract an audience, and will generally attract said audience by virtue of being an easy watch (whether that’s the case or not). Comedy sequels rarely retain the charm or gag-to-laugh ratio of their predecessors, even if the same cast/director/screenwriter returns; the original idea, if done right, should have had all its comic potential mined from source, so that any follow-up has really got to go the extra mile to work anywhere near as well. What you get – usually – are the same jokes rehashed, the same characters held in development stasis, and maybe some new characters that don’t add anything new to the mix. When a comedy sequel arrives so long after the original, you have to wonder at the reason for it, and will it have anything new to say? The reason is usually a financial one (it’s a very rare sequel that’s made under the auspices of “artistic merit”), and in terms of having anything new to say, well, let’s just say you shouldn’t count on it. Here’s a “great” example.
Joe Dirt 2: Beautiful Loser (2015) / D: Fred Wolf / 107m
Cast: David Spade, Brittany Daniel, Patrick Warburton, Mark McGrath, Dennis Miller, Christopher Walken, Rhonda Dents, Tracy Weisert, Adam Beach
David Spade is the member of Adam Sandler’s “posse” whose career has been made up of appearances on TV, supporting turns in his pal Sandler’s movies, and voice work in a multitude of animated series and features. In 2001, he co-wrote and starred in a movie called Joe Dirt. It was about a man searching for his parents (who abandoned him as a baby), and the man, Joe, was a complete idiot. The movie wasn’t brilliant, but it wasn’t awful either; instead it occupied that middle ground where there are as many good things to say about it as there are bad. And it was funny in places, really funny, and Spade made the best of a rare leading role.
Fast forward fourteen years and Spade is back, co-writing (with director Fred Wolf, who also co-wrote the first movie) and starring in a not quite inevitable sequel. The same narrative structure is used as in the first movie – Joe recounts a journey he’s taken, this time going back to 1965 and traversing the years until he reaches the pivotal moment where he meets his wife, Brandy (Daniel) – and along the way he finds himself in all sorts of trouble while admitting to anyone who’ll listen that he’s as dumb as a box of spanners. Of course, this being a road movie of sorts, it’s also about Joe taking a journey of self-discovery and realising what’s really important (his wife and family, being true to oneself, having a good heart – the usual drivel).
But Spade and Wolf have a secret agenda. As Joe Dirt 2: Beautiful Loser finds its time travelling groove, and goes about ripping off elements from The Wizard of Oz (1939), Back to the Future (1985), Forrest Gump (1994), and Cast Away (2000), the movie can’t help but have Joe interact with various moments in US history, particularly an encounter with the founder members of Lynyrd Skynyrd when they were still The Wildcats that ends abruptly when they mention being rich and successful enough to own their own airplane. It’s a scene obviously shoehorned into the script to be both amusing and maudlin at the same time, but thanks to the number of suggestions that Joe makes, all of which will ensure the group’s fame and fortune, the scene falls flat, and loses whatever bittersweet poignancy it may have aimed for.
It’s the same for most of the movie, as scenes lacking any subtlety (the scene with Buffalo Bob, a “future” scene involving vodka soaked tampons) vie for attention with scenes that are meant to be heartfelt. But sadly it doesn’t matter what the tempo or mood of any given scene, thanks to Wolf’s casual approach to directing, they all feel as if they’ve gone on too long, or that the meaning of the scene has been eclipsed by the need to include a joke or bit of business that doesn’t work. It all leads to long stretches where the narrative stalls unnecessarily and any momentum the movie has managed to attain is kicked to the kerb.
Of course, being a sequel, the movie does its best to bring back as many of the original cast as possible. This is usually a good thing, as the familiarity of the characters is (hopefully) maintained along with a great deal of goodwill towards them; when they show up, the viewer is meant to be happy to see them. However, Spade aside, none of the returning cast get very much to do. Daniel is sidelined for much of the movie, Walken pops up for three scenes (and coasts through all of them), Beach gets a cameo, and Miller acts as an occasional prompt for the narrative. Of the newcomers, Warburton gets the lion’s share of screen time but never seems like he’s connected with his character(s), while the only thing that McGrath does of note is to name check himself in the scene relating to the vodka soaked tampons (and weirdly, not in a good way).
Like many sequels, Joe Dirt 2: Beautiful Loser tries hard to justify its existence but never succeeds in stating a good case for itself. Much of the humour is forced, and on a couple of occasions is reliant on Spade’s verbal dexterity, leaving the movie feeling like the vanity project of someone who’s easily persuaded that the material they’ve come up with is more than enough to gain critical and commercial approbation. Alas, in this case, that’s not true. At best, the movie is inoffensive (even when it tries its best to be offensive), at worst it’s a disappointing, unrewarding exercise in recreating what little lightning was in the original bottle.
Rating: 4/10 – slackly directed, and edited to the point of distraction by Joseph McCasland, Joe Dirt 2: Beautiful Loser is a sequel that spends more time riffing on other, more successful movies than creating something new and effective; Spade is fine as Joe, but as this is his baby he should bear the responsibility of what is ultimately a shoddy, sporadically amusing misfire.
Sequels have been with us since the Silent Era, specifically since The Fall of a Nation (1916), a follow-up to D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (1915). Written and directed by Thomas Dixon Jr, it contained much the same contentious and controversial material as its predecessor, but was dismissed by at least one critic as a “preposterous” picture (so even then sequels had a bad rap). The idea of making a sequel to a successful movie never really caught on, but the idea of movie series did, and in the Thirties and Forties, studios such as Universal churned out movie after movie featuring the same characters (often played by the same stars but not always), and adhered to the idea of recycling long before it became fashionable in the Nineties. It wasn’t until the Seventies, and the advent of movies such as The Godfather Part II (1974) and French Connection II (1975), that the studios began to realise that the relatively humble sequel could be a money maker. In the Eighties, independent movie makers jumped on the band wagon also, giving us franchises we never asked for (usually in the horror genre) and unwanted cash-ins that held equal zero enticement. But the makers of these movies knew one thing above else: if you make a sequel to a movie that’s been even halfway successful, and make it as cheaply as possible (okay, that’s two things), then people will pay to see it, either at the cinema or in their own homes.
Sometimes though, a sequel comes along that just leaves the average moviegoer stunned by its existence. This kind of sequel – the sequel you never imagined would be made… ever – usually pops up out of nowhere, unheralded, and with no reason to exist other than that a producer, somewhere, somehow, managed to get financing for it, and people to work on it, and actors to star in it. And with all the effort that goes into the making of a movie, all the time and talent and hard work, how does this particular movie, with all its shortcomings and failures there for all to see, actually get to be as bad as it is? Because that’s the main, major problem with sequels: they pretty much suck big time. Or if they don’t suck big time then they manage to disappoint in other ways, such as retelling the same story as the first movie, or going darker, or refusing to develop the characters, or repeating the same tonal problems that existed the first time around (hello, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice). Sequels come with the least level of expectation, and the most sense of a disaster waiting to be viewed. So to illustrate this point, For One Week Only will present seven of the most unnecessary sequels yet made, sequels that were/are so bad that a third movie hasn’t been contemplated or made yet.
Kindergarten Cop 2 (2016) / D: Don Michael Paul / 100m
Cast: Dolph Lundgren, Darla Taylor, Bill Bellamy, Aleks Paunovic, Michael P. Northey, Sarah Strange, Josiah Black, Raphael Alejandro, Dean Petriw, Abbie Magnuson, Tyreah Herbert, Oscar Hartley, Valencia Budijanto, William Budijanto
Twenty-six years. Not the longest period between an original and its sequel – that honour goes to Bambi (1942) and its DTV sequel Bambi II (2006), with a gap of sixty-four years – nevertheless Kindergarten Cop 2 arrives with only a minimum of enthusiasm to recommend it, and quite a lot to make any unsuspecting viewer run for the hills (even the ones with eyes). This is the kind of sequel that’s basically a retread of the original movie, with minor changes made, and no attempt to improve on things. If anything, the original Kindergarten Cop (1990) is a work of genius when compared to this drab retelling, what with Lundgren’s lumbering approach to the material (every time he smiles it seems as if the effort’s hurting him), and Paul’s absentee landlord version of directing helping to hold the movie back.
This time around, Lundgren’s FBI agent is on the hunt for a flash drive that contains a copy of details of everyone in the Witness Protection Program. It’s been hidden in a school, and it’s up to Agent Reed (Lundgren) to go undercover and locate it while masquerading as a kindergarten teacher, and trying to keep one step ahead of Russian villain Zogu (Paunovic), who wants it so he can track down the ex-girlfriend who’s going to testify against him in an upcoming trial. The whole thing is plotted so lazily that you don’t need any familiarity with the first movie to work out just what’s going to happen. Even the minor subplot involving one of the kids having an abusive parent plays out exactly as you’d expect, even though the dynamic is changed (it’s resolved by a pep talk rather than a beating).
The humour is as bland and uninspiring as expected, and the movie dials back on the original’s more brutal approach to violence. Scenes come and go without any sense of connection to each other, and some characters appear to exist in a vacuum; even Reed’s relationship with his partner, Agent Sanders (Bellamy), appears to be more of a convenience arranged by the screenplay than something borne out of two men working together over a period of years. Reed’s love interest with fellow kindergarten teacher, Olivia (Taylor), is as manufactured and hard to believe in as anything else, and the moment when school principal, Miss Sinclaire (Strange), lets rip with a baseball bat – while intended to be funny – merely reaffirms how lazy (and lousy) it all is. And to add insult to injury (the viewer’s), there’s no prizes for guessing when Reed gets to say, “Class dismissed”.
Rating: 3/10 – professionally made but only just, Kindergarten Cop 2 scrapes all kinds of layers from the bottom of the barrel – and some that no one knew were there until now; leaden and tedious, it’s a movie that drags itself along like a wounded animal that’s unaware of just how badly injured it is, but is in dire need of euthanasia.
Cast: Jack Whitehall, Harry Enfield, Sarah Solemani, Mathew Horne, Iain Glen, Ethan Lawrence, Charlie Wernham, Layton Williams, Kae Alexander, Jack Binstead, Nikki Runeckles, Weruche Opia, Joanna Scanlan, Jeremy Irvine, Talulah Riley, Clarke Peters, Steve Oram, Steve Speirs, Marc Wootton
Just avoid. This is a movie whose “comic” highlight is its lead character teabagging a swan. Fans of the TV series will probably enjoy this but anyone else will be wondering how on earth this was ever made, and if they manage to get through to the end, they’ll also be wondering how they can get ninety minutes of their lives back.
Rating: 3/10 – yet another dreadful movie adaptation of a British TV comedy series, The Bad Education Movie wastes no time in insulting the viewer’s intelligence and doing its best to make as little effort as possible; some lovely Cornish locations aside, this has all the hallmarks of a movie that’s been written in a rush, directed in a fugue state, and acted on rare occasions (check out Horne’s constant mugging if proof is needed).
In Southside With You, writer/director Richard Tanne invites us to witness a very special first date: the one between Michelle Robinson (played by Tika Sumpter) and Barack Obama (played by Parker Sawyers). Taking place in the summer of 1989, it’s an epic date, taking in far more than the average dinner and a show, and the movie pitches this event at the level of an above average romantic comedy – but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sawyers looks particularly convincing as Obama, his tone of voice and physicality so reminiscent of a certain modern day President that it’s sometimes spooky to see, while Sumpter is equally convincing as the self-assured Michelle. The movie does look like it might be a little too “cute” in places, but there’s enough deprecating humour here to offset any charges that the movie is being overly winsome.
When your latest comedy stars Mila Kunis as an overworked, worn out, under-appreciated mom who decides to go on a bender in order to feel better about herself and her life, you’d better make sure that such a set up is at least halfway credible (Kunis as a mom is a bit of a stretch all by itself). Sadly, the trailer for Bad Moms – Kunis is joined by Kristen Bell and Kathryn Hahn to make up the titular trio – doesn’t give the potential viewer any such assurance. There are definitely laughs to be had but writers/directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore have too much of a patchy track record – 21 & Over (2013), The Hangover (2009), and er, Four Christmases (2008) – to instil any confidence that we haven’t already seen the best bits from the movie in the trailer – and if that’s the case then the movie, and we the audience, are in a lot of trouble.
Playing like the surreal second cousin to Up (2009), Hunt for the Wilderpeople sees Julian Dennison’s troublesome youngster, Ricky Baker, the focus of a manhunt when he goes missing with his foster uncle Hector (played by Sam Neill). Adapted by writer/director Taika Waititi from the novel by Barry Crump, this is the kind of quirky, offbeat movie that offers a surfeit of genuine laughs to complement the heartfelt drama on display elsewhere. Having co-created the sublime What We Do in the Shadows (2014), Waititi is on his own here, but from the looks of the trailer has done a fantastic job in creating the kind of strange, off-kilter world that allows Ricky and Hector to bond without anyone voicing concerns about the difference in their ages or Hector’s less than friendly demeanour.
D: Radio Silence, Roxanne Benjamin, David Bruckner, Patrick Horvath / 89m
Cast: Chad Villella, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Fabianne Therese, Nathalie Love, Hannah Marks, Susan Burke, Davey Johnson, Mather Zickel, David Yow, Tipper Newton, Matt Peters, Gerald Downey, Kate Beahan, Hassie Harrison, Larry Fessenden
The anthology has been a staple of the horror movie genre going back as far as Ealing’s Dead of Night (1945). This latest offering, a portmanteau of five interlocking stories – The Way Out, Siren, The Accident, Jailbreak, and The Way In – offers a range of competing terrors, and predictably, some are better than others.
We begin with Mitch (Villella) and Jack (Bettinelli-Olpin), speeding through the desert night, both of them covered in blood and anxiously looking behind them as they travel, on the look out for what is revealed to be a group of winged skeletal figures. These figures are still following them when they reach a gas station with a motel round the back. The two men take time to clean themselves up, but when they leave find that the road now brings them back to the gas station… again and again… and the skeletal figures are closing in.
From the motel in back we follow the efforts of three young women, Sadie (Therese), Ava (Marks), and Kim (Love), as they head towards their next gig. There should be four of them but their friend Alex died recently, something for which Sadie accepts some of the blame for not keeping their friend safe. When they find themselves stranded at the side of the road after a tire blows, a lift from a passing couple (Burke, Johnson) should be the answer to their prayers but instead Sadie’s friends begin acting strangely, and she discovers that they’re all in the hands of a group of devil worshippers.
Sadie manages to get away but in doing so has a fateful encounter with Lucas (Zickel) (which the trailer gives away unfortunately). Lucas is on his way home but soon finds himself needing to get Sadie to the nearest town. Receiving instructions via his cell phone from the emergency services, Lucas finds the local hospital, but what he finds there is far from what he’s expecting, and the night takes an even more bizarre turn for the worse, worse enough that Lucas may never leave the town ever again.
Lucas’s tale gives way to that of Danny (Yow), a man in search of his missing sister, Jessie (Newton). He abducts a bartender (Peters) and forces him to take him to where he believes his sister is being held against her will. Along the way he learns about the true nature of the people Jessie has chosen to live amongst, and that his determination to find her has terrible consequences.
In the last segment we meet a family made up of Daryl (Downey), his wife Cait (Beahan), and their daughter, Jem (Harrison). They’re on a family vacation before Jem goes off to college, and they’ve rented a house. As they prepare to have dinner, three masked men show up outside before forcing their way in. Daryl is their target, and it soon becomes clear that the men are there out of revenge for something he’s done.
Any portmanteau movie stands and falls on the quality of its individual stories, and Southbound is no different. The Way Out throws the viewer into the middle of an escape from supernatural creatures that it makes no attempt to explain. Mitch and Jack have done something bad – that we can guess – but the sparseness of the dialogue allied with the striking visuals used to depict the skeletal entities leaves any exposition unnecessary. This is the stuff of nightmares, and the viewer is forced to go along with it all and hope for answers later. (Observant readers will already have gathered that the final segment, The Way In, is more directly linked than the other episodes, and so it proves.)
Siren drops the ball however, its tale of desert-based devil worshippers proving clumsy both in its construction and its presentation. Writer/director Benjamin aims for eerie but never quite achieves the right tone. A dinner party that should be chilling thanks to the behaviour of everyone but the three friends is muted thanks to the generic set up and unfulfilled sense of menace. It’s further hampered by the unconvincing performances of Love and Marks, a poorly choreographed and framed scene in which the cultists induct Sadie’s friends around a fire pit, and the ease with which Sadie escapes a bear trap.
The Accident more than makes up for Siren‘s shortcomings, though, and is the movie’s stand out segment, a squirm-inducing tale of punishment and body horror that employs some truly excellent special effects and is the sort of tale that wouldn’t have been out of place in an old Tales of the Crypt comic book. It’s a sweaty, claustrophobic, blood-drenched episode, with an equally sweaty performance from Zickel that overcomes the segment’s only failing, that being the ease with which Lucas performs certain tasks with only the barest of encouragement to persuade him.
Jailbreak and The Way In aren’t able to match the intensity of David Bruckner’s ballsy contribution, and although the rest of the movie isn’t quite the anti-climax it might seem, Patrick Horvath’s tale of unfortunate brotherly devotion is too slight to work effectively and feels like an under-developed Twilight Zone episode, while The Way In brings the movie back to where it started with a home invasion tale gone horribly, terribly wrong. These are acceptable as stand-alone segments but lack the edge needed to make them more memorable within the confines of the movie as a whole.
Eagle eyed viewers will spot clues and references to each of the segments popping up here and there, indicating the characters are trapped in some kind of purgatorial existence that they’re all doomed to repeat, and there are cameos from the skeletal creatures. Budgetary constraints hold the movie back however, though the majority of the performances fit well with the stories on offer, with Zickel grabbing the lion’s share of the acting plaudits. That said, the lonely desert landscapes are used to good effect, and the photography – by Tarin Anderson, Tyler Gillett, Alexandre Naufel, and Andrew Shulkind – is exemplary throughout, blending the action of each vignette into a surprisingly cohesive whole. And the whole thing is topped off by a gravelly, ominous voice over by Fessenden as a radio DJ who, if you listen closely, seems to know exactly what’s happening… and why.
Rating: 7/10 – despite some obvious flaws, Southbound is a largely effective and inventive horror anthology that does its best to offer jaded audiences something at least a little different; it succeeds for the most part thanks to the makers’ decision to link each of the stories in clever and intriguing ways, and by imbuing each tale with a satisfying sense of dread.
With 2016 already a third of the way gone (where does the time go?), it’s time to take a look at the movies that have raked in the cash across the globe in the first four months. There are some surprising entries, and the top spot is held by a movie which may well breach the billion mark by the year’s end – which will be an amazing achievement and completely unexpected. Half are sequels, one is a remake, which leaves just four movies that are original – if that isn’t a sad reflection on the make up of movies released so far this year then nothing will be. All have made over $150m at the international box office, but whether they’ll still be in the Top 10 at year’s end (or even in another four months) remains to be seen. So here they are: the movies we’ve gone out of our way to see at the box office, whether we live in Hollywood or Hunan Province. See how many you can guess in advance.
NOTE: All figures are courtesy of the good folks at boxofficemojo.com.
10 – London Has Fallen – $191,295,451
London Has Fallen seems to have made its money off the back of a residual fondness for its US based predecessor. That a movie as poorly constructed and flaky as this can make as much money as it has is both worrying and oddly comforting – worrying because audiences will flock to a movie even when it’s clearly a case of stupid is as stupid does, and oddly comforting because there’s always room for movies that wear their stupidity like a badge of honour.
9 – The Monkey King 2 – $193,677,158
The second sequel on the list was released back in February and shows just how important the international markets, and particularly China, are now when determining the box office success of foreign language movies. The Monkey King 2 tanked in the US, earning only $709,982, but its performance overseas is a salutary reminder that Hollywood can’t have it all – and that’s a good thing.
8 – Captain America: Civil War – $261,600,000
Captain America: Civil War doesn’t open in the US until tomorrow – what’s the betting it’s as successful on its home turf as it has been abroad? (Don’t bother to answer that.) Marvel have another potential billion dollar movie on their hands, and if it can rake this much in in just one week then the sky’s the limit. It’s also proved itself as yet another critic-proof behemoth; a good job then that it’s as good as everyone hoped.
7 – Monster Hunt – $385,274,702
The second foreign language movie on the list, Monster Hunt‘s total haul is yet another snub to the US market, which allowed it to play for just one week back in January and make a massive $32,766. It may not be the best example of Chinese fantasy movie making, but international audiences have taken it to their hearts, and in the end that’s all that matters.
6 – Kung Fu Panda 3 – $508,538,424
And now we reach the big guns. A massive leap in ticket sales takes us to the third outing for lovable Po, irascible Master Shifu, and the Famous Five. Well on the way to emulating both its predecessors’ haul of over $600m, Kung Fu Panda 3 is the latest in a series that has quietly earned its success without appearing to do too much in the process. Both sequels have built on what’s gone before, and this instalment is a testament to the way in which a simple formula can be enriched and expanded and keep drawing audiences back.
5 – The Mermaid (Mei ren yu) – $552,521,248
The third (and final) foreign language movie on the list, Stephen Chow’s fantasy drama is yet further proof that the US box office, once regarded as the main arbiter of a movie’s success, doesn’t occupy that role as comprehensively as it used to. In comparison with The Monkey King 2 and Monster Hunt, The Mermaid performed respectably in the US, earning $3,232,685, which makes its international haul all the more impressive. Perhaps there’ll come a time when foreign language movies will bypass the US box office altogether; after all, how much profit can they be making in such a suffocating market?
4 – The Jungle Book – $725,233,678
With brand-name recognition and an impressive promotional push by the House of Mouse, The Jungle Book was always going to be on this list somewhere, but for a movie that was only released over a few weeks ago it’s put an equally impressive number of bums on seats in a relatively short space of time. Will it break the billion dollar mark? Possibly, but the point here is that the movie is a triumph of expectation and promotion that has performed exceptionally well around the world, and without really bringing anything special to its audiences.
3 – Deadpool – $761,707,675
Deadpool has proved to be a runaway, unabashed success story at the box office, and all despite its raunchy, coarse, crude, hyper-violent excesses (or is it because of all those things?). It’s great to see such an unapologetically adult movie do so well, and find itself outperforming so many family friendly (and demographically targeted) movies. With this amount of money taken at the box office, there should be no excuse for the sequel to be anything other than as raunchy etc as its forebear.
2 – Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice – $864,255,044
It had to be near the top, what with the high levels of fanboy expectation and the overwhelming promotional barrage we were subjected to from the moment the movie was announced. But with the movie itself proving less than stellar, this is the perfect example of a movie earning a shed load of money while not actually offering an experience that justifies people shelling out for it in the first place. Go figure!
1 – Zootopia – $933,713,976
If you said to yourself at the beginning of this post, I bet Zootopia is the number one movie, then give yourself a pat on the back (you sly old fox you). A complete surprise that it’s unlikely Disney themselves could have predicted, this reaffirms the notion that a genuinely good movie will win out if given the chance. That audiences have taken to Zootopia so completely and unreservedly is another positive that shouldn’t be ignored, and of all the movies released so far in 2016, its success should be celebrated for what it is: truly deserved.
Another in the weekly series designed to encourage debate on thedullwoodexperiment, where readers/followers/first-timers/anyone can air their opinions/views/thoughts on the topic/subject/idea in question. (Apologies for the lack of a Question of the Week last week.)
With the recent release of Captain America: Civil War there has been no end of renewed/continuing criticism of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. So this week’s question is an easy one:
Does anyone believe that Suicide Squad will be the movie to lift DC/Warner Bros. out of the grim, destruction-porn dead end they seem to be embedded in?
Cast: Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr, Scarlett Johansson, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Don Cheadle, Jeremy Renner, Chadwick Boseman, Paul Bettany, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Rudd, Emily VanCamp, Tom Holland, Daniel Brühl, Frank Grillo, William Hurt, Martin Freeman, Marisa Tomei, John Kani, John Slattery, Hope Davis, Alfre Woodard
And so begins Phase 3 of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Though the Marvel formula is pretty well established now, and is beginning to show through a little too often for comfort – Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) disappoints more and more with repeated viewings, Ant-Man (2015) was fun but too married to the formula for its own good – the company that should finally give us the Spider-Man movie a lot of people have been waiting for, has cannily begun the process of dismantling and rebuilding the work it carried out in Phases 1 and 2. Having introduced us to the more well-known Marvel superheroes – Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk, Captain America etc. – over the next few years we’re going to meet several newer additions to the roster, so that by the time we get to Avengers: Infinity War Part II (2019), the Avengers will hopefully be comprised of a different set of superheroes.
With that in mind, there’s a lot that needs to happen before then, and while Captain America: Civil War looks as if it’s the first step in getting there, and while it’s still the best Marvel movie this side of Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Marvel are still playing it safe in terms of the characters – contrary to what you may have heard, all the main players survive in this movie – but they are trying to make things grittier and more true to life in relation to the characters’ relationships and feelings. Hence we have a falling out between Tony Stark (Downey Jr) and Steve Rogers (Evans) over whether or not the Avengers should be “policed” following the destructive events in Sokovia. Tony believes that their actions in the past have caused too much death and suffering (even though they’ve saved the world twice), while Steve feels that it shouldn’t be left up to anyone else but the Avengers as to where they go and who they stand up to; what if they’re not asked to go somewhere they should be?
It all leads to the various core Avengers – except for an absent Thor and Bruce Banner – taking sides over the issue, and for each side to bring in back up when it’s clear that a showdown is inevitable. Meanwhile, as if things aren’t bad enough, Steve’s old friend and Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes (Stan) is still on the run and apparently responsible for the bombing of a United Nations building that has taken the life of T’Chaka (Kani), the king of African nation Wakanda. His son, T’Challa (Boseman), swears to have his revenge on Barnes, and with Steve unwilling to give up on his friend, the battle lines are even more fiercely drawn. (T’Challa is one of the new characters, aka Black Panther, and will have his own movie in 2018.)
What it all boils down to is whether or not the Avengers should be autonomous or inducted into the world’s police force and used accordingly. There are good reasons on both sides for inclusion or exclusion but the interesting thing about the arguments put forward is that Tony’s are emotionally driven by his feelings of guilt over the numerous deaths that occurred in Sokovia, while Steve’s are still rooted in his past. Having fought against Hitler and Hydra both in World War II, Steve knows one thing for sure: if there’s evil to be faced and defeated, then you just do it. It’s a simple idea, but for Steve a very powerful one. And though the movie does its best to keep the narrative focused on this divisive idea, there’s a spanner in the works.
The “spanner” is this movie’s principal villain, Colonel Helmut Zemo (Brühl), who is operating in the background and using Barnes’ past to cause maximum distrust between Tony and Steve. He’s doing so for personal reasons, and credible ones at that, and they have a bearing on the division that threatens the future of the Avengers. Zemo may not be trying to destroy the world like Loki or Ultron, but it’s good to see a villain causing so much harm all by himself and without an army of aliens or robots to help him. Brühl puts in a good performance, and its one whose quiet determination isn’t overwhelmed by all the sturm und drang going on around him. But Zemo is also the device by which the Avengers reach their own accord, an uneasy truce if you like, but one that introduces a further interesting dynamic for future movies.
As for the other characters, and with so many to include, the script by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely rightly concentrates on the falling out between Tony and Steve, while doing its best to address and develop issues surrounding everyone else. There’s the tentative romance brewing between Vision (Bettany) and Scarlet Witch (Olsen) that has them on opposite sides (as well as Vision’s understanding of the Infinity Stone in his forehead), the return of General Thaddeus Ross (Hurt) as the man charged with bringing the Avengers into line, the various drawbacks encountered by Falcon (Mackie) and War Machine (Cheadle) as the sidekicks of Captain America and Iron Man respectively, Black Widow’s (Johansson) kick-ass yet conciliatory occupation of the middle ground when necessary, the return of Hawkeye (Renner) to make up the numbers on Cap’s side, and the return also of Scott Lang aka Ant-Man (Rudd) who provides much of the comedy that makes the airport confrontation so much fun.
As mentioned before, we’re introduced to one of Phase 3’s newer characters, Black Panther. Originally meant to have a much smaller role in Captain America: Civil War, Boseman’s portrayal is extremely good, and bodes well for his solo outing. The character’s place in the MCU is assured thanks to the way in which the script integrates his own personal mission of revenge into Tony’s attempts to achieve regulation of the Avengers. Neither a part of the Avengers or against them, Black Panther is a neutral figure in terms of the differences affecting them, and acts as a buffer for the audience by following his own path.
And then there’s the little matter of finally seeing Peter Parker aka Spider-Man in a Marvel movie – at last. With all due respect to Sam Raimi and Tobey Maguire, and Marc Webb and Andrew Garfield, in the space of roughly half an hour, the Russo brothers and the writers have given us the best Spidey yet seen on the big screen. Holland is terrific as the garrulous super-teen, nervous and perplexed in his meeting with Tony Stark, unabashedly starstruck in his set-to with Captain America et al. It’s an absolute joy to see him portrayed in this fashion, and for fans who stay to (almost) the very end, the caveat “Soider-Man will return” (a la James Bond) will be a welcome sight.
With this movie, Marvel has begun the next Phase of its assault on our hearts and minds and disposable incomes in such an enjoyable way that even though it’s not a movie that takes any real risks with either its characters or the storyline, it’s still a marked improvement on recent outings. The humour is there, the action/fight scenes are as inventive and thrilling as ever, and (some of) the characters are allowed to develop further, thereby consolidating our affection for them. It’s a huge juggling act, but here the writers and the Russo brothers have made such a good job of things that there are only minor gripes to be had, and those aren’t really worth mentioning. Where Guardians of the Galaxy raised the bar considerably for the MCU, Captain America: Civil War has just vaulted over it with accomplished ease.
Rating: 9/10 – while many may regard this as just Avengers 2.5, there’s more to Captain America: Civil War than meets the eye, and Marvel can be rightly proud of what they’ve achieved; as a stand-alone movie it works incredibly well, and as a part of the wider MCU it’s even more effective, being more tightly scripted and more efficiently directed than any other superhero movies out there at the moment – and yes, that does mean Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016).
With her tall, slim frame and features that can appear both angled and smooth, Rebecca Hall – daughter of renowned English theatre director Sir Peter Hall – has made a career out of playing strong-willed yet vulnerable women, and in a variety of genres. She made her debut in the TV series The Camomile Lawn (1992), but it wasn’t until 2006 that she made her debut on the big screen in Starter for 10. Since then she’s worked solidly, releasing two or three movies each year, and working with directors of the calibre of Christopher Nolan, Ron Howard, Patrice Leconte, and Woody Allen. She’s often a reassuring presence in her movies, providing audiences with a sympathetic character to relate to and root for. She once said that she “always look[s] for contradiction in a character”, and this shows in her choice of roles over the years, even in something as unsuccessful as Lay the Favorite (2012). Later this year she can be seen in Steven Spielberg’s The BFG, yet another high-profile movie that sits comfortably within the mix of Hollywood and indie movies that make up her career so far. Before then, it’s worth checking out the five movies listed below, all of which feature Hall giving strong, impressive performances.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008) – Character: Vicky
In Woody Allen’s romantic comedy/drama, Hall is the practical friend to Scarlett Johansson’s more extrovert Cristina, but while she appears to be more strait-laced in comparison, it’s Vicky that falls for Javier Bardem’s lusty artist, Juan Antonio. Hall gives a layered, intelligent performance that allows the audience to believe that Vicky could be so certain about her future, and yet so unsure once she meets Juan Antonio, and the feelings of confusion and remorse she exhibits in the wake of their affair. Juggling these feelings with the need to appear satisfied and content with her recent marriage, Hall ensures Vicky is a recognisable and understandable character, and one that you feel you could probably get to know very well in real life.
A Promise (2013) – Character: Charlotte “Lotte” Hoffmeister
A period drama set in Germany in 1912 – and directed by Patrice Leconte – A Promise features Hall as the young wife of an aging tycoon (played by Alan Rickman) who falls in love with an engineer (played by Richard Madden) who works for her husband. It’s a tale of unrequited love on both sides, adapted from a novel by Stefan Zweig, and features a beautifully constructed and affecting performance from Hall that is a pleasure to watch. As Lotte struggles against her ingrained sense of duty, Hall shows the personal sacrifice she has to make in order to retain her own sense of self-worth, until circumstances (namely, World War I) intrude and make her efforts seem ill-advised.
Frost/Nixon (2008) – Character: Caroline Cushing
As the new girlfriend of David Frost (played by Michael Sheen), Hall’s character finds herself involved in the tense run-up to Frost’s televised interviews with disgraced US President Richard Nixon (played by Frank Langella). (In reality, Cushing and Frost had been together for five years at this point.) Hall has a supporting role here, and isn’t on screen for much of the movie’s running time, but when she is she still grabs the viewer’s attention, and there’s an obvious chemistry between Hall and Sheen that adds to the dynamic of Cushing and Frost’s relationship.
Everything Must Go (2010) – Character: Samantha
Although Everything Must Go is very much Will Ferrell’s movie, Hall once again shows she can match anyone when it comes to giving a natural, honest performance, and she does so here effortlessly, playing a pregnant, put-upon neighbour who does her best to help Ferrell’s depressed, alcoholic ex-salesman get over the loss of his job and his wife, and despite having enough problems of her own. It’s a surprisingly substantial role, and Hall teases out every nuance and shading of the character, making Samantha a much more rounded (and grounded) person than may be expected, and entirely sympathetic to boot.
Iron Man 3 (2013) – Character: Maya Hansen
Hall once said, “One of the great things about the ‘Iron Man‘ franchise is that they employ fascinating actors who don’t necessarily do action movies.” Well, Hall is certainly a fascinating actor, and as the geneticist whose work ultimately is used for immoral and illegal purposes by Guy Pearce’s chief villain, she adds another string to her bow by appearing in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. She still gives her role due sincerity, and makes Hansen as credible as any other character she’s played. It’s a tribute to Hall that she doesn’t look or feel out of place in an Iron Man movie; a shame then that her character probably won’t be returning any time soon.
Cast: Peter Sellers, Nadia Gray, Herbert Lom, Leo McKern, Michael Gough, Billie Whitelaw, John Neville, Martita Hunt, John Le Mesurier, Joan Sims
Rarely seen since its release in 1961, Mr. Topaze has the distinction of being the first (and only) full-length feature directed by Peter Sellers. Adapted from the stage play by Marcel Pagnol (and already filmed on seven previous occasions, twice by Pagnol himself), Mr. Topaze has come to be regarded as Sellers’ “forgotten” movie, and unless there’s a print waiting to be found in someone’s attic, the only known existing copy is in the hands of the British Film Institute’s National Archive.
It’s an amiable drama with humorous flourishes, and tells the story of a school teacher called Albert Topaze (Sellers). He’s an honest man, known for his integrity, but he’s also incredibly mild-mannered, content to teach his pupils but with few if any social interests. He does harbour a romantic attraction for Ernestine (Whitelaw), another teacher, but she’s also the daughter of the headmaster, Muche (McKern), a circumstance that keeps him from wooing her except in the most awkward and unsatisfactory ways. It’s only when his friend and fellow teacher, Tamise (Gough), persuades him to be more manly and seize the day that Topaze reveals his love to a delighted Ernestine. But he’s still too afraid of Muche to approach him for her hand in marriage.
Before he can muster enough courage to speak to Muche, a more serious matter arises. A baroness (Hunt), the grandmother of one of his pupils, arrives at the school to complain about her grandson being bottom of the class. She believes Topaze has made a mistake on her grandson’s report, and wants Topaze to change it. Topaze stands by his markings which leads to the Baroness withdrawing all her grandsons from the school, the revelation that Topaze is in love with Ernestine, and his being fired by Muche.
But help is at hand, in the form of crooked businessman Castel Benac (Lom) and his mistress, musical comedy actress Suzy Courtois (Gray). Realising that his honesty and naïvete are the perfect attributes they need to help them with a crooked deal they have planned, Benac and Suzy convince Topaze to accept the role of Managing Director in a company that will facilitate the deal; and if anything goes wrong then he’ll take the fall. A visit from a business rival (Neville) of Benac’s reveals the truth but Topaze allows himself to be persuaded by Suzy to remain on board. Topaze goes along with Benac’s deception, even when he discovers the extent to which he’s been used. And this discovery leaves Topaze having to make a very difficult choice…
As mentioned above, Mr. Topaze is an amiable drama with humorous flourishes. It’s a movie that starts off quietly with Topaze and his pupils walking through the streets of Paris, and remains at an equally steady pace for the rest of the movie; sometimes it borders on being stately. But Sellers has made a good choice here because Topaze is a man of reflection, not a doer but a prevaricator, and to move things along at a more industrious pace would have altered the tone and feel of the movie as a whole. (A faster paced movie would have thrust proceedings into the style of a farce, and while that might not have been a bad thing, it’s not the kind of story Sellers is trying to tell.)
By focusing on Topaze’s introspective demeanour, and establishing his integrity, Sellers is free to make him the calm at the centre of the storm of emotions and drama that go on around him. From McKern’s antic turn as the obsequious and grandiose headmaster, to Gough’s effusive best friend, to Whitelaw’s pouting love interest, and to Lom’s blustering businessman, almost all the characters around Topaze are more animated than he is and by extension, more aware of the world around them. As he learns that he’s been duped, Sellers sidesteps the temptation to make Topaze as emotive as everyone else, instead relying on weary resignation to indicate Topaze’s disappointment and anger; after all, what difference will it make?
Sellers’ melancholy turn as Topaze wasn’t well received in 1961, with critics and audiences alike unwilling to accept him in a role that wasn’t as overly comedic as they were used to, but Sellers pitches the part perfectly, and even though it should be the other peformances that grab the attention, the viewer’s eye is always drawn to the former Goon. In fact, such is the strength of his performance that when he’s not on screen the movie seems to miss him; when he returns the movie also seems to heave a sigh of relief.
But while Sellers the actor is on fine form, Sellers the director doesn’t always make the most of Pierre Rouve’s screenplay. Rouve downplays the satirical elements needed once Topaze meets up with Benac, and the course of his disillusionment is played with only scant regard for the sad inevitability of it all. Sellers is on shaky ground during this part of the movie, as the plot takes centre stage, leaving his character development to drift along with the narrative. Benac and Suzy make for more interesting and compelling characters, and the ease with which Topaze’s protestations are overcome smacks of expediency rather than any natural development of either the storyline or the character. It all ends with an uncomfortable meeting between Topaze and Tamise that poorly illustrates Pagnol’s idea that there are no truly honest men in the world.
Seen from a distance of forty-five years, Mr. Topaze is an intriguing movie to watch, thanks largely to Sellers’ immaculate performance, but also due to its entirely unexpected nature (just the year before he’d appeared in The Millionairess and Two Way Stretch, playing characters that were more typical of his career up ’til then). Sadly it seems that the response to Mr. Topaze was disappointing enough for him to return to the type of roles audiences liked him for (although Stanley Kubrick was clever enough to cast him in Lolita (1962) as the parasitic Clare Quilty). And one short movie aside – I Say I Say I Say (1964) – he never directed again. A shame then, as on this evidence, and with some carefully chosen projects provided for him, Sellers could have been just as well regarded for his directorial prowess as his acting prowess.
Rating: 7/10 – better than contemporary audiences and reviewers described on its release, Mr. Topaze is a bittersweet drama that offers some simple cinematic pleasures along with a raft of enjoyable performances (McKern is particularly effective); that it feels a little slipshod once Topaze’s integrity starts to wear away is unfortunate and stops the movie from being as polished and cohesive as its first “half”, but this is still a movie worth tracking down if you can*.
Alas, there is no trailer available at present for Mr. Topaze.
*Mr. Topaze is available to view on the British Film Institute’s BFI Player, though in a version that runs just eighty-four minutes, which suggests that there is a reel missing from their print.
The short movie is an oft-neglected aspect of movie viewing these days, with fewer outlets available to the makers of short movies, and certainly little chance of their efforts being seen in our local multiplexes (the exceptions to these are the animated shorts made to accompany the likes of Pixar’s movies, the occasional cash-in from Disney such as Frozen Fever (2015), and Blue Sky’s Scrat movies). Otherwise it’s an internet platform such as Vimeo, YouTube (a particularly good place to find short movies, including the ones in this post), or brief exposure at a film festival. Even on DVD or Blu-ray, there’s a dearth of short movies on offer. In an attempt to bring some of the gems that are out there to a wider audience, here’s another in an ongoing series of posts that focus on short movies. Who knows? You might find one that becomes a firm favourite – if you do, please let me know.
Jane LA (2014) / D: Max Landis / 12m
Cast: Zena Grey, Russell Henson, Maggie Levin, Hadrian Belove, Anna DeHaan, Max Landis
Rating: 7/10 – A documentary movie maker (Landis) films a young woman, Jane (Grey), who believes that by setting off a bomb in a crowded public place, she’ll bring people closer together (as well as making an artistic statement). With talking head soundbites from some of the people that know her, Jane’s story is played out in a wistful, semi-serious way that keeps the viewer guessing as to whether or not she’s completely serious, or (to be unkind) completely deluded. Landis plays with our perceptions of other people’s truths, while Grey makes Jane lovable and scary at the same time, leading to a final shot that is both haunting and unnerving.
Blooming (2013) / D: Harrison J. Bahe / 10m
Cast: Shanae Styles, Sammi Pechman
Rating: 6/10 – A young woman reveals her sexuality to her best friend… with unexpected results. Though entirely predictable, this is the kind of wish fulfillment tale that stands or falls on the quality of its dialogue and performances, and Bahe’s stripped down narrative is no exception. With an earnest performance from Styles as the young woman afraid to tell her best friend that she’s a lesbian, Blooming does enough to avoid being easily dismissed, but for some viewers, Bahe’s simple approach may be too flat in its presentation.
Cast: Jenny Mollen, Jason Biggs, Julie Benz, Rhys Coiro
Rating: 7/10 – Daniel (Coiro) and Emily (Mollen) have split up, but this doesn’t stop Emily from trying to get some of her things back from their house, and despite the locks having been changed. Dragging her new beau Max (Biggs) with her, Emily’s “retrieval” of her things leads to Daniel’s new girlfriend, Caitlynn (Benz) being abducted with everything else. A bright little comedy, Kidnapping Caitlynn is endearing and engaging thanks to assured performances from Mollen and Biggs, and features some great one-liners to show just how deluded Emily is in the way she deals with her break-up.
X Returns (2009) / D: Ammo / 10m
Cast: Jamie Dornan, Holly Valance, Antonio Fargas
Rating: 5/10 – In the wake of Apollo 11’s return to Earth in 1969, a marine (Dornan) is infected by an alien virus and kept in quarantine for forty years before being freed by a woman (Valance) who works in the facility where he’s being kept. With its lack of back story to explain what’s going on and why (particularly the woman’s actions and just why the marine has spent so long in quarantine – and without aging), X Returns should best be viewed as an attempt to drum up interest in making a full-length feature out of Agent X’s plight. It also has an X-Files vibe about it, and is worth seeing for Fargas’s quietly menacing portrayal of a government spook. If you’re a fan of Dornan’s though, be prepared for disappointment: he’s barely in it.
Cast: Robin Dunne, Amy Adams, Sarah Thompson, Keri Lynn Pratt, Barry Flatman, Mimi Rogers, David McIlwraith, Clement von Franckenstein, Jonathan Potts
Rating: 5/10 – a young Sebastian Valmont (Dunne) transfers to a new school and encounters the Machiavellian Kathryn Merteuil (Adams), leading to a rivalry that will last the rest of their lives; a prequel to Kumble’s PYT version of Dangerous Liaisons, Cruel Intentions 2 is enjoyable on a guilty pleasure level, and is full of moments where the viewer will ask themselves, Did they just do/say that?, but it’s still not enough to hide the cracks in the narrative or the paucity of some of the performances.
Countdown (2016) / D: John Stockwell / 90m
Cast: Dolph Ziggler, Glenn “Kane” Jacobs, Katharine Isabelle, Josh Blacker, Alexander Kalugin, Michael Kopsa, Alan O’Silva
Rating: 3/10 – when a disaffected Ukrainian straps a bomb to a young boy and then dies before revealing the boy’s whereabouts, it’s up to maverick cop Ray Fitzpatrick (Ziggler) to save the day – and whether his bosses like it or not; another WWE DTV movie that abandons crdibility from the word go – watch out for Fitzpatrick’s one-man storming of a Russian consulate – Countdown is hard-going rubbish that only has Cliff Hokanson’s crisp cinematography to recommend it.
Love’s Kitchen (2011) / D: James Hacking / 93m
Cast: Claire Forlani, Dougray Scott, Lee Boardman, Peter Bowles, Michelle Ryan, Matthew Clancy, Holly Gibbs, Simon Callow, Seretta Wilson, Cherie Lunghi, Caroline Langrishe, Gordon Ramsay
Rating: 4/10 – following the tragic death of his wife, top chef Rob (Scott) loses his way until he takes over a small village pub, and with the help of food critic Kate (Forlani), attempts to regain the flair and the passion that made him such a good chef; a lightweight romantic comedy that breezes through its own running time as nonchalantly as possible, Love’s Kitchen is, in cooking terms, like a soufflé that hasn’t risen: still edible but nowhere near as enjoyable if it had turned out as planned.
The Naked Witch (1964) / D: Larry Buchanan, Claude Alexander / 59m
Cast: Jo Maryman, Robert Short, Libby Hall
Rating: 2/10 – a student (Short) of German folklore arrives in a small Texas town and unwittingly awakens the ghost of a witch (Hall) bent on revenge on the descendants of those who put her death three hundred years before; Buchanan’s first low-budget exploitation movie is low on incident and big on padding – check out the ten-minute prologue – but does earn a point for a strange, hypnotic vibe that develops once the witch is resurrected.
Hunt the Man Down (1950) / D: George Archainbaud / 69m
aka Seven Witnesses
Cast: Gig Young, Lynne Roberts, Mary Anderson, Willard Parker, Carla Balenda, Gerald Mohr, James Anderson, John Kellogg, Harry Shannon, Cleo Moore, Christy Palmer
Rating: 6/10 – when a man (Anderson) is caught after twelve years on the run from a murder trial, his public defender (Young) investigates the original crime, and learns enough to believe that the man is probably innocent; a minor noir, Hunt the Man Down has plenty of double dealings in a plot that doesn’t always make sense but is enjoyable enough on its own terms.
Some People (1962) / D: Clive Donner / 93m
Cast: Kenneth More, Ray Brooks, Anneke Wills, David Andrews, Angela Douglas, David Hemmings, Timothy Nightingale, Frankie Dymon
Rating: 7/10 – a group of teenagers aiming to start a band find an ally in a local choir master (More), but along the way have to contend with internal rivalries and the problems inherent in growing up; as much an historical record of the times – Bristol, England in the early Sixties – Some People features a slew of raw performances but is only occasionally as dramatic as the story requires, leaving the viewer to wonder what all the fuss is about.
Search Party (2014) / D: Scot Armstrong / 93m
Cast: Adam Pally, T.J. Miller, Thomas Middleditch, Shannon Woodward, Alison Brie, J.B. Smoove, Octavio Gómez Berríos, Maurice Compte, Lance Reddick, Krysten Ritter, Jason Mantzoukas, Rosa Salazar, Jon Glaser
Rating: 5/10 – when one of his best friends, Evan (Miller), ruins his wedding day, Nardo (Middleditch), follows his fianceé to Mexico in order to win her back, while Evan and his other best friend, Jason (Pally), end up heading across the border as well to help him out after he’s carjacked; a passable comedy that tries too hard one moment and then hits the comedic nail on the head the next, Search Party isn’t particularly memorable but if you’re in the mood for an easy watch, this will definitely do the trick.
Cast: Eric Bana, Ricky Gervais, Vera Farmiga, Kelly Macdonald, Kevin Pollak, Raúl Castillo, America Ferrara, Benjamin Bratt, Mimi Kuzyk
Comedians and Netflix – a good combination? After Adam Sandler’s The Ridiculous 6 (2015), we now have Ricky Gervais’ Special Correspondents, a movie so leaden and uninspired it makes Sandler’s movie look like a masterpiece (okay, that may be taking it a bit too far). A remake of the French movie Envoyés très spéciaux (2009), this transplants the original’s Paris-Iraq locations for New York-Ecuador, and in the process leaves out the humour that would have made it halfway watchable.
Gervais’ decision to make this movie serves only to highlight his inability to write, act and direct a full-length movie and show consistency in any one department. As the meek, self-negating Ian Finch, a sound engineer for a New York-based radio station, Gervais plays yet another sad-sack loser with zero confidence and a view of himself as a complete nobody. Gervais has played this character, and variations of it, several times now, and it’s as tired as the script he’s put together and somehow managed to get financing for. (If you really want to see just how bad an actor Gervais can be, check out the party scene early on, where it’s just him and Vera Farmiga; see how many grimaces and facial expressions you can spot that are exact replicas of the ones he uses when hosting the Golden Globe Awards… or playing David Brent in The Office.)
Gervais’ painful attempts at acting aside, it’s his script that deserves the most criticism, ranging as it does from occasionally interesting to crudely simplistic. The basic story – radio journalist and his sound man fake reports from war-torn Ecuador – is lifted wholesale from the French original, and even though that movie wasn’t the most well received movie ever, it’s still better than the ponderous, laugh-free adaptation that Gervais gives us here. Yes, it has a predictable plot; yes, it has characters who are two-dimensional at best; and yes, you couldn’t care about any of them even if your life depended on it, but if after all that it was funny, really laugh-out-loud funny, then it could have been forgiven for all those things. But although Gervais has made room for moments that are clearly meant to be funny, in reality they aren’t, and the movie lurches from one almost-humorous scene to another with all the grace of a punch-drunk boxer fighting his reflection.
It doesn’t help that, Kelly Macdonald’s sweet-on-Ian character, Claire Maddox aside, the other characters are mostly unlikeable, from radio journalist Frank Bonneville (Bana) whose grandstanding and willingness to get the story no matter what makes him look and sound arrogant and unfeeling, to Ian’s wife, Eleanor (Farmiga), a listless shrew who only comes to self-aggrandising life when her husband appears to have been kidnapped by rebel forces. Farmiga, who has the misfortune of wearing one of recent cinema’s most unflattering wigs, does what she can with the role but there’s no subtlety in a part that calls for simpering insincerity at every other turn, and bald-faced self-promotion in between. The same goes for Bana, a more than capable actor here reduced to the role of awkward straight man to Gervais, and who has to spend a lot of screen time waiting for Gervais to deliver the comedic goods (so he gets to wait around a lot).
In support, Pollak is the radio boss who cares about the legality of a story’s procurement one minute, but is willing to capitalise on the possibility of Frank and Ian being killed the next, while Castillo and Ferrara are the Latin couple, Domingo and Brigida, who help Frank and Ian fabricate their reports. What few laughs there are in the movie are delivered by the couple, playing a couple of innocents who haven’t quite grasped their roles in Frank and Ian’s deception. And in what must have taken him a whole morning to film, Bratt turns up as Frank’s arch-nemesis, TV journalist John Baker, who co-opts one of Frank’s broadcasts as if he knew all about the content all along (Baker is probably meant to provide an element of satire, but instead he comes across as an easy target for Gervais’ mistrust of the Press).
Of course, events dictate that Frank and Ian have to go to Ecuador so that they can “return” to New York and avoid losing their jobs and ending up in jail. It’s during this period in the movie that Gervais’ deficiencies as a director show themselves more clearly than elsewhere. Even with the aid of experienced DoP Terry Stacey, Gervais still manages to present the viewer with shots and scenes that are poorly framed, and there’s a scene with Gervais and Bana where Frank reveals a secret that is so badly assembled it feels like rehearsal footage has somehow made its way permanently into the final movie.
As mentioned when discussing the trailer, Gervais track record on the big screen has not exactly been luminous, but here he’s come up with a project that will likely mean it will be a long time before he’s asked to write, direct and star in a movie of his own choosing once again. If Gervais has an aptitude for anything it’s for observational comedy, and Special Correspondents doesn’t fit that mold, which makes it even harder to understand why he chose to take it on in the first place.
Rating: 3/10 – dire and acutely unfunny, Special Correspondents is yet another English-language remake that shouldn’t have happened (and how many more of those will we see this year?), and shouldn’t have to be watched; Gervais never gets to grips with what his movie is about, or where the laughs should go, leaving the viewer resigned to the idea (from very early on) that this is a movie that has stalled before it’s even started.
Cast: Sam Rockwell, Anna Kendrick, Tim Roth, James Ransone, Anson Mount, Dennis Eklund, RZA, Katie Nehra
There were two movies released in 2015 with the title Mr. Right… and this isn’t the other one (which, to clarify, stars Columbus Short and Erica Tazel, and doesn’t have a screenplay by Max Landis). This one is definitely the wackier of the two, a broad mix of comedy, action and romance that exists in the same universe as American Ultra (2015), and which allows Sam Rockwell to do what he does best and ooze more charm than any leading man has a right to.
The set up is a simple one. Martha (Kendrick) dumps her boyfriend when she finds out he’s seeing someone else. Depressed and turning to alcohol for comfort she lacks the confidence to believe that she’ll ever find that elusive Mr. Right. But a chance encounter in a convenience store leads to her going on an impulsive date with a guy (Rockwell) whose name she doesn’t even find out (and not until much later). Their relationship soon blossoms into a romance that is surprising to both of them, even when the guy makes apparently flippant remarks about killing people. It’s only when Martha actually sees him kill someone that she returns to believing there isn’t one man on the planet who’s right for her.
Now the guy is a hitman (as you may have suspected). But he’s kind of reformed. He still kills people, but in a neat moral turnaround, he kills the ones who hire him (and tells them that murder is wrong before he does). Martha’s guy is also being tracked by his former mentor, Hopper (Roth), who is pretending to be an FBI agent. Hopper’s bosses want Martha’s guy dead, but they may have to wait in line, as the man Martha sees him kill is connected to a Mafia family, and they now want him dead as well. With her new beau being shot at and attacked by what appears to be all-comers, Martha has a decision to make: does she walk away and settle for someone half as interesting and special, or does she take a chance on love?
(Well, we all know the answer to that one, don’t we?)
There are two reasons to watch Mr. Right, and they’re the script by Max Landis, and the performance by Sam Rockwell. Landis is making quite the reputation for himself, and with scripts for this, American Ultra, Chronicle (2012) and errr… Victor Frankenstein (2015) under his belt, he’s certainly a writer to watch, and while the basic conceit of a hitman who kills the people who hire him is a novel one, where Landis scores highly is with the romantic portions of the movie. As Rockwell’s off-centre hitman and Kendrick’s semi-doofus pet store worker get to know each other and fall hopelessly in love, Landis provides both actors with the kind of snappy, winning dialogue that makes each scene they share a pleasure to watch. Where else are you going to find lines such as, “That’s a lot of condoms. You’ve got enough to choke a goat”, or “And Martha Agatha, it’s just a double menopause punch in the… it’s brutal”?
With Landis making the most of the romantic aspect of the movie, and creating such a winning relationship, it’s almost a shame that the murderous actions of Roth’s determined ex-colleague and Ransone’s duplicitous Mafia scion, Von, have to take over for the obligatory action-packed second half. It’s a stroke of genius then that Landis introduces the character of Steve (RZA), ostensibly a disposable gun for hire who proves to be a match for Mr. Right and earns his respect. It’s a funny, unexpected role, and RZA plays it perfectly. But this is Rockwell’s movie, and as the titular anti-hero he brings his A game, infusing his character with a joie de vivre that is both infectious and charming in equal measure. He brings so much to the role of Mr. Right that it’s almost impossible to keep up with everything he’s doing in any given scene. It’s the kind of portrayal that won’t win any awards but is breathtaking in its effortless simplicity – and completely makes up for his sleepwalking turn in Poltergeist (2015).
With Rockwell firing on all cylinders and fully engaged with the material, it’s good to see Kendrick having fun as well as Martha. It’s not a role that’s any kind of a stretch for her, but she’s funny and adorable, and a great foil for Rockwell (and despite the obvious difference in their ages). Roth shows off his comic chops as well, imbuing Hopper with a studied insouciance that pays dividends throughout (look out for an early scene as he accurately predicts the fates of a group of guns for hire as they try to take down Mr. Right in a hotel). Less satisfactory however are the performances of Ransone and Eklund as the Mafia heavyweights who pick the wrong assassin to off their in-charge brother (Mount). Whenever they’re on screen, caricature and enforced stupidity aren’t far away, and their characters are almost cartoon-like. It’s hard to tell if the root cause is Landis’s screenplay, Cabezas’ direction, or the actors’ performances. Maybe it’s a combination of all three, but whatever the reason, they’re the movie’s only real disappointment.
In the end, Mr. Right is lightweight, enjoyable stuff that doesn’t require too much thought but still manages to entertain consistently and with a fair degree of brio. Cabezas’ last outing was the less than stellar Rage (2014) with Nicolas Cage, and like Rockwell with Poltergeist, he’s on better form here, showing a confidence in his handling of what is effectively a genre mash-up that yields sterling results, and stops the movie from straying in any one direction at the expense of the others. He’s ably supported by DoP Daniel Aranyó, who finds some unusual angles to make the action sequences more invigorating, and an exuberant score by Aaron Zigman.
Rating: 8/10 – there’s so much to enjoy in Mr. Right that it’s tempting to watch it again straight after seeing it for the first time; with an on-form turn from Rockwell and a great script by Landis, the movie is a minor outing that rewards above its weight and will keep you smiling throughout, even when it’s being patently absurd.
Cast: Ethan Hawke, Emma Watson, David Thewlis, Lothaire Bluteau, Dale Dickey, David Dencik, Devon Bostick, Aaron Ashmore, Peter MacNeill
Minnesota, 1990. Farmer John Gray (Dencik) confesses to molesting his seventeen year old daughter, Angela (Watson) – but there’s a catch: even though Angela has made an accusation, Gray can’t remember doing anything of the sort, and is confessing purely because Angela has never lied to him, so in his mind it must be true. Detective Bruce Kenner (Hawke) is assigned to the case, and while Gray languishes in prison awaiting a trial date, he begins to look into the matter. It’s not long though before Kenner begins to find that the case isn’t as straightforward as his boss, Chief Cleveland (O”Neill), would like.
With the help of Professor Kenneth Raines (Thewlis), Kenner learns through Raines’ use of regression therapy techniques that Gray wasn’t alone when his abuse of Angela was supposed to have happened. When the other person present is revealed to be a fellow police officer, George Nesbitt (Ashmore), that revelation opens up another can of worms altogether: that Nesbitt, along with an unwitting Gray, are members of a satanic cult. With the rest of the police force treating the idea of a satanic cult as a joke, and Gray’s family proving resentful of Kenner’s investigation, it’s not until he gets to meet Angela that Kenner begins to believe that there might actually be something in what her father has remembered.
Kenner remains sceptical but insists on keeping an open mind, and begins looking into the possibility that a cult is operating in the local area. A second meeting with Angela has him believing more and more, and even more so when he begins to have strange dreams, some where he appears to be involved in the blood sacrifice of a newborn baby (and which echoes what Angela has told him of her own experiences). Kenner becomes paranoid, and his relationships with those around him begin to deteriorate. When Nesbitt is released for lack of evidence, Kenner believes he has to risk everything in order to keep Angela safe, but if the cult is for real, will he be able to?
The period setting of Regression is deliberate. In the US in 1980, a book was published called Michelle Remembers, and it was written by Michelle Smith and her future husband Lawrence Pazder (who was then her psychiatrist). In it, Smith recounted – through Pazder’s use of hypnotherapy – alleged memories of what became known as Ritual Satanic Abuse (RSA). These memories related to abuse supposed to have been perpetrated by Michelle’s mother in the mid-Fifties when Michelle was five. The book proved to be a starting point for allegations of widespread satanic activity within the US (and further afield), and although skepticism of Smith and Pazder’s book was equally widespread, as the Eighties progressed, the idea of satanic cults prospered, and the book, and Pazder’s “expertise” on the subject, were used as a guide for prosecutors preparing cases against individuals accused of satanic practices.
Set against the backdrop of this developing fear and paranoia, Regression touches on several attendant topics – the (mis)use of regressive therapy, the impact of such allegations on closed communities, individual feelings of guilt and/or responsibility, the ease with which unsubstantiated rumour becomes accepted fact – but it does so in such an awkward, hamfisted way that any dramatic emphasis is reduced by the way in which Amenábar’s script fails to follow through on these topics. The end result is a movie that has a lot going on but little of it that makes consistent sense.
Worrying aspects crop up almost from the start, with a very clumsily inserted “clue” that Nesbitt is more involved than is initially apparent, and this is followed by the way in which Detective Kenner commits himself so unreservedly, leaving the viewer to wonder just what it is that drives him (a question the movie avoids answering). Raines’ involvement so soon into the investigation, and the way in which he’s allowed to take the lead on so many interviews is concerning in terms of likelihood (it doesn’t help that Raines is often unnecessarily aggressive as well), and a sequence where Kenner “sees” the events described to him by Angela is another cause for concern, as it comes across as a stylistic exercise rather than a character trait.
Kenner is the viewer’s guide through the events of the movie but he proves an unreliable guide, prone to making schoolboy errors in terms of the investigation, and behaving unprofessionally with Angela. The movie doesn’t give any real reason for the waywardness of his behaviour, and as the mystery deepens his growing paranoia (and belief) that the satanic cult is real causes him to behave so irrationally that the extent of it becomes unconvincing. With Gray already acting strangely, and with most of the local community seemingly in thrall to the cult that no one can identify, Amenábar’s decision to have Kenner become a victim as well becomes exasperating rather than effective in terms of the drama.
Viewers should be able to determine the movie’s outcome without too much trouble, but once they do, and once the movie reaches that point, the whole thing collapses in on itself and the last fifteen minutes feel like a compromise instead of a conclusion decided on from the start. Amenábar does his best, but even with the support of Hawke and Watson, he doesn’t appear to be fully in control of his own narrative or where it’s going. Scenes feel divorced from each other, and too often, characters act oddly because the script needs them to.
The performances are committed at least, with Hawke giving his all in yet another not-fully-realised horror thriller, and Watson putting Hermione Granger firmly behind her as the victim(?) whose safety becomes Kenner’s primary concern. Thewlis and his character are abandoned by Amenábar two thirds of the way through, while the rest of the supporting cast (save Dencik) do what they can in respect of filling in the blanks. In the end, Regression is a movie where the characters exist to service the plot, and at no point do any of them feel organic, leaving the cast to try and work out what’s the best approach for each one. It leads to a clash of acting styles in some scenes, and a lack of cohesion in others. Amenábar at least keeps things visually interesting, albeit in a dour, dark-hued way, and the sequences of satanic worship and sacrifice are well shot and edited together, but all in all this needed a tighter script and a better ending to be anywhere near successful.
Rating: 5/10 – though Regression is based around real events that occurred over a period of time, it never really offers a cohesive or credible story to match its general assumptions about what was happening at the time; not as scary or effective as it would like to be, the movie winds up playing it safe instead of giving the viewer any real food for thought.
Netflix adds another movie to its distribution roster with the latest from Ricky Gervais, a satirical look at at a journalist (played by Eric Bana) and his sound man (Gervais) who find themselves covering a civil war in Ecuador… from the safety of an apartment in New York. Adapted by Gervais from the 2009 French comedy Envoyés très spéciaux, the movie had its premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival and will be released worldwide on 29 April, but from the trailer it’s hard to tell if the movie is going to be as funny or as satirical as Gervais intended, and largely because the trailer’s pretty much a laugh-free zone. Gervais’s big screen projects haven’t exactly set the box office on fire in the past, and advance word isn’t very positive, so it’s likely that Special Correspondents will disappear just as “effectively” as Bana and Gervais’ characters do in the movie.
The true story of Ray Kroc’s acquistion of the McDonalds chain over the course of the late Fifties/early Sixties, The Founder looks to be a pull-no-punches examination of how Kroc outmanoeuvred the McDonald brothers (played by Nick Offerman and John Carroll Lynch), and gained control of what has become one of the world’s largest and most successful franchises. As Kroc, Michael Keaton has landed yet another role likely to reward him with a slew of awards nominations, while the recreation of the period looks to be spot on. This has the potential to be an unexpected hit at the box office, partly due to the nostalgia on offer, and partly because in the current US social and political climate, a tale of how the American dream was usurped and bent to someone else’s needs seems all too relevant.
Tough and moody, with a brutal streak running through it a mile wide, Mel Gibson’s latest foray in front of the cameras sees him playing an ex-con who’s forced to protect his estranged daughter (played by Erin Moriarty) from the drug dealers bent on killing her. Blood Father has an exploitation movie vibe to it, allied to strong visuals, as well as a pleasing sense that Gibson is playing a role more attuned to his work in the first two Lethal Weapon movies rather than the cartoon-oriented variations of the third and fourth. With an intriguing supporting cast on board – William H. Macy, Diego Luna, Elisabeth Röhm, Dale Dickey – this latest from the director of Mesrine Parts 1 & 2 (2008) could be another redeeming feature in Gibson’s post-meltdown career.
Cast: Helen Mirren, Aaron Paul, Alan Rickman, Barkhad Abdi, Phoebe Fox, Aisha Takow, Jeremy Northam, Richard McCabe, Monica Dolan, Iain Glen, Babou Ceesay, Vusi Kunene, Kim Engelbrecht, Laila Robins, Michael O’Keefe, Armaan Haggio, Gavin Hood, Lex King
The poster for Eye in the Sky correctly identifies the range of personnel that are involved in its story of a military operation to capture several high profile terrorists from a property in Nairobi, Kenya. The commander is Colonel Katherine Powell (Mirren), the drone pilot is Lieutenant Steve Watts (Paul), and the terrorist is radicalised British woman Susan Danford (King). But the range doesn’t end there. There’s also military facilitator Lieutenant General Frank Benson (Rickman) overseeing things from a briefing room in London’s Whitehall, a target recognition analyst, Lucy Galvez (Engelbrecht), based in Hawaii, and the Kenyan military forces, led by Major Moses Owiti (Kunene), and also in Nairobi. Throw in the British Foreign Secretary, James Willett (Glen), who’s in Singapore, and the American Secretary of State, Ken Stanitzke (O’Keefe), who’s on a trip to Beijing, and you have a movie that relentlessly globe trots in its efforts to up the tension as the original mission to capture Danford and her terrorist allies mutates unavoidably into a strike mission.
The set up is a simple one: intel puts Danford, a member of terrorist organisation Al-Shabaab, her husband, and two recently radicalised young men at a house in Nairobi. Powell’s job is to coordinate the various strands of a US/UK/Kenyan operation to capture them. But things become more complicated when the intended targets move to another Nairobi location, one that’s heavily fortified by Somalian militia. With the drone flying twenty-three thousand feet above the action and unable to see inside the building the terrorists have moved to, the decision is made to send in an FPV, operated remotely by Jama (Abdi), a Somalian member of the Kenyan military forces. With the targets inside the building confirmed, the mission can go ahead, but then the FPV sees something no one was expecting: a room full of explosives and two suicide bomb vests. Now the reason for the terrorist meeting becomes clear: the two young men have been chosen to commit further terrorist outrages.
For Powell it’s an open and shut case. With two separate terrorist acts being prepared, the mission has to change, and the drone used to send a Hellfire missile into the building. But Powell finds that getting permission to change the operation’s parameters is harder than she thought. Benson, overseeing things with members of the British government, explains the need for a kill strike but no one wants to make a decision without it being referred to someone further up the chain of command. And when a young girl, Alia (Takow), arrives outside the compound to sell bread, the moral and political issues surrounding collateral damage come into play – and the terrorists continue their plans.
Make no mistake, Eye in the Sky is a taut, gripping thriller that throws in enough twists and turns to keep viewers on the edge of their seat (or holding their breath) from the moment the terrorists’ plan becomes evident and the politicians start backing away from making a decision that involves the potential death of a young girl. With ethical and moral considerations being thrown around in support of both pushing ahead and stepping down, Guy Hibbert’s script treads a fine line between political expediency and military necessity, and in doing so, provides audiences with a tense, anxious experience that is both intelligently handled and uncomfortably topical.
In doing so though it paints a portrait of UK politicians as indecisive and media-cowed, afraid of making tough decisions unless they’re authorised by someone nearer the top of the political food chain than they are (this is why the UK Foreign Secretary and the US Secretary of State become involved). It’s a little unnerving to see these characters vacillate so much in the face of an established threat, and some viewers may well find themselves feeling frustrated by their behaviour to the point of wishing they were the victims of the drone strike instead. But it still makes for compelling viewing as each round of political manoeuvring fails to solve the problem on the ground, namely, how can the little girl be moved on, and how can any collateral damage be minimised to an acceptable level.
The answers to both these dilemmas are not as cut and dried as some viewers might expect. An attempt to buy up the girl’s bread goes awry, and the level of collateral damage varies depending on where the missile strike hits, but in any case it’s obvious the girl will suffer some form of injury. Knowing this, the back and forth between Powell and the politicians Benson has to deal with becomes an arduous, unpleasant, exasperating stretch of the movie’s running time, and despite feeling contrived for the most part, still maintains the tension needed to keep viewers glued to the screen.
Away from the Brits, Watts’s increasing unhappiness at the way things are developing leads to a further delay in proceedings, but the movie presents this as a positive turn of events, with the plucky Yank standing up to the formidable British Colonel. Whether this would happen in “real life” is debatable – Watts and his co-pilot, Carrie Gershon (Fox) appear far too emotionally affected to be entirely credible – but as another example of the script’s ability to make things as uncomfortable for the audience as possible it also gives the audience a way in in terms of how upsetting this must really be for two characters who will be expected to be back on duty twelve hours later. Alternatively, Powell and Benson’s feelings are best summed up by Benson’s assertion, “Never tell a soldier that he does not know the cost of war.”
With drone strikes becoming an increasingly hot topic in terms of modern warfare against terrorists, the movie is both timely and uncompromising. It paints a convincing portrait of the hardware used and the complicity that comes with it, and if the movie ultimately comes down on the side of using it for the greater good – the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few – then it’s still a convincingly made argument. And thanks to a very well chosen cast, both sides of that argument are given due attention, with Mirren and Rickman giving standout performances, while being ably supported by the likes of Abdi, Northam and Ceesay. In coordinating all this, Hood makes up for Ender’s Game (2013) and X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) by keeping things deadly serious throughout, and with the help of regular editor Megan Gill, creates a febrile atmosphere for the mission to exist in.
Rating: 8/10 – a few narrative niggles aside, Eye in the Sky is a provocative, unnerving cinematic experience that never once falters in its intention to keep viewers on the edge of their seats; tense and dramatic, the movie shines a light on the kind of ethical and moral dilemmas that only a select few have to deal with, and reinforces the notion that warfare, whether modern or ancient, is not for the faint of heart.
Original title: La dame dans l’auto avec des lunettes et un fusil
D: Joann Sfar / 95m
Cast: Freya Mavor, Benjamin Biolay, Elio Germano, Stacy Martin, Thierry Hancisse, Alexandre von Sivers, Olivier Bonjour
Mousy secretary Dany (Mavor) works for businessman Michel Caravaille (Biolay). She has undeveloped fantasies about their relationship becoming something more than just employer and employee, but Michel is clearly uninterested. When he tells her he needs a report typed up urgently, she tells him it will take her all night. As he needs it first thing in the morning he tells her she can do the work at his home. After a quick stop at her home for some things, they arrive at Michel’s home where she is given a room to work in, and meets his wife, Anita (Martin).
The next day, and with the report completed, Michel asks Dany to drive himself and Anita to the airport, and then take the car, a magnificent Thunderbird, back to his home. Dany drops them off but decides that, with the weekend ahead of her, no one will know if she drives the car out to the coast (she’s never seen the sea), and as long as she gets the car back before Michel and Anita return. But as she makes her way through the French countryside, Dany finds herself meeting people who say they’ve seen, and talked to her, earlier on. This angers Dany, especially when the staff at a gas station are more concerned with her having been there before than in paying credence to the attack that was made on her in the toilets, and despite her receiving an injury that she didn’t have “before”.
At a hotel Dany finds again that she’s recognised by the staff. She also meets an Italian who calls himself Georges (Germano). Dany allows herself to be seduced by Georges, but the next day she finds he has stolen the Thunderbird. Desperate to get the car back she enlists the aid of a truck driver and his friends on the CB network to find out where Georges has got to. But when she tracks him down to a seaside town, events take an even more disturbing turn, and Dany discovers that she’s now connected to a murder.
Adapted from the novel by Sébastien Japrisot, Joann Sfar’s third feature is a twisty, Gallic thriller that looks cool, plays it cool, but becomes quite heated in the last quarter of an hour, as its tricksy, mysterious narrative unravels thanks to one massive mistake made early on in the movie’s construction. It’s not hard to work out what’s happening, or who’s responsible, but the why is kept under wraps until quite near the end. By the time all is revealed though, Dany’s journey from subdued, submissive secretary to not quite defenceless stooge-in-the-making has taken one too many “unexpected” turns for it all to work properly or credibly.
Which is a shame, as for much of its running time, The Lady in the Car With Glasses and a Gun is an entertaining mystery movie, sometimes feeling a little surreal, sometimes a little like experiencing a mild hallucinogen, but always keeping the audience a little off-kilter. This helps the viewer identify more closely with Dany and her escalating problems, as the script by Patrick Godeau and Gilles Marchand does its best to retain a semblance of “normality” while putting its heroine through the emotional wringer. Each successive encounter with someone who’s already met her leaves Dany questioning what’s going on but this isn’t some Twilight Zone fantasy that she’s experiencing; instead it’s a much more sinister world she finds herself dealing with, and as the script keeps Dany on the back foot, it strives to keep the viewer in suspense at the same time.
That it doesn’t fully succeed is due to the somewhat generic nature of the mystery itself. It’s unlikely that Dany is going mad, and to be fair, the movie doesn’t take that tack, but in putting her in situations where things aren’t as clearcut or as straightforward as they should be, Sfar and the screenwriters portray a secondary world where nothing is obvious, and expectations should be abandoned. Once Dany veers off the main road back to Michel’s home and heads for the seaside, it’s almost as if she’s entered some kind of alternate reality, a dream world perhaps, and the movie tries hard to maintain that illusion for as long as possible. And until Dany meets Georges, it succeeds quite well in creating that kind of atmosphere.
In a lot of mystery thrillers, the introduction of a man who is sympathetic to the heroine’s troubles, and wants to help out, usually leads to a romance between them that’s borne out of tackling those troubles. And at first it seems as if Georges is there to fulfill that role, but even though they end up in bed together, the audience will already know that Georges isn’t to be trusted (Germano’s performance practically screams “con man”). By removing this small amount of hope, the audience begins to understand that this movie may be more nihilistic than they expected. And as Dany gets further and further into trouble, so it proves.
Sfar is a competent director, certainly able to elicit strong performances from his cast – Mavor, perhaps best known as Mini from the TV series Skins (2011-12) is very good indeed as Dany – but the movie’s tone is wayward, and the ending feels rushed, as if the movie had to come in at a certain running time and a less hurried denouement would have ruined things. He’s also never quite sure as a director with where to place the camera, leaving the movie looking and feeling a little awkward in its presentation of certain scenes, such as Dany’s romantic fantasies, and when he feels the need to vary the camera angles when Dany’s in the car. And he fumbles the revelation of what’s been happening (and why), leaving the viewer unsure if he/she heard right, or if there’s something more to be added. As it is, the revelation is unnecessarily complicated, and relies too much on coincidence to work effectively, a problem Sfar doesn’t have the experience to solve.
But as already mentioned, the movie does look cool, thanks to Manuel Dacosse’s sterling cinematography. The movie has an autumnal, melancholy feel to it that Dacosse highlights through the use of some unfussy yet effective lighting, and a subdued colour palette. And it’s a movie that gets progressively darker in terms of light and shade as Dany’s problems worsen. This makes the movie intriguing to watch on a visual level, and helps make up for some of the failings elsewhere. But all in all, it’s a movie where style and substance aren’t on an equal footing.
Rating: 6/10 – while there’s much to admire in The Lady in the Car With Glasses and a Gun, it’s narrative isn’t rewarding enough to overcome the pitfalls it finds itself creating; Mavor has the look of a troubled innocent, and is the glue that holds the movie together, but her performance alone isn’t enough to overcome the movie’s various narrative problems.
Cast: Ice Cube, Kevin Hart, Ken Jeong, Benjamin Bratt, Olivia Munn, Tika Sumpter, Bruce McGill, Michael Rose, Sherri Shepherd, Tyrese Gibson
Overheard at a cinema in Boise, Idaho (or somewhere like that – you get the idea):
Assistant: Hi, how can I help you today?
Customer: Hi. I’d like two tickets for Ride Along 2, please.
Assistant: Two tickets? Why?
Customer: I’m sorry?
Assistant: Why do you want two tickets? Don’t you like the person you’ve come with?
Customer: I beg your pardon.
Assistant: Look, it’s no skin off my nose, but wouldn’t you rather see something else? Like Norm of the North perhaps?
Customer: No, we’d like to see Ride Along 2. We like Kevin Hart. He’s funny.
Assistant: He is, yes. But unfortunately the movie isn’t.
Customer: Well, that’s your opinion. Now, can I have two tickets to see Ride Along 2? Please.
Assistant: Well, okay, I guess you’re old enough to know what you’re doing.
Customer: You know, you’re being very rude. I don’t think I’ve ever been so insulted before.
Assistant: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Wait until you’ve seen the movie, then decide, huh?
Rating: 3/10 – a dire sequel that recreates several of the first movie’s so-called “funniest moments”, Ride Along 2 proves that recycling isn’t as good for the environment (and particularly a cinema screen) as we’ve all been told; formulaic in the extreme, and low on real laughs, this is the kind of movie that studios make when they can’t think of anything that’s better/more original/more entertaining to make.
Cast: Nicolas Cage, Elijah Wood, Sky Ferreira, Ethan Suplee, Eric Heister, Kenna James, Keston John, Steven Williams, Jerry Lewis
When you’re watching The Trust, the latest no-brainer, substance-lite thriller starring Nicolas Cage, spare a thought for Jerry Lewis (yes, the Jerry Lewis). Urged by Cage to appear as his on-screen dad, Lewis appears in three scenes and amasses roughly a minute of screen time. What, you may be asking, was the point? In fairness, Lewis is ninety, so he may have worked to his potential, but it’s the kind of unkind cameo that will either have audiences, a) wondering if it’s really him, or b) asking themselves, isn’t he dead? The answers (already established) are yes it is, and no he’s not. The better question is, was he so bored that he didn’t have something, anything, better to do?
As it turns out, Lewis gets off lightly, sharing his scenes with Cage and Wood, while the two lead actors get to spar with each other for almost the rest of the movie. Cage is Jim Stone, an evidence technician for the Las Vegas Police Department, stifled by his bosses lack of vision when it comes to his ideas for gathering evidence more efficiently, and treated like a nuisance caller who makes the mistake of giving his name every time. Also working as an evidence technician for the LVPD is Wood’s character, David Waters. Waters is good at his job but he’s too fond of a joke, and smoking weed, to be as uptight as Stone; he’s coasting along, none too ambitious but clearly lacking the wherewithal to make his life better.
At an auction of property seized by the LVPD, Stone is shown one clever way that drugs have been transported. Looking through the paperwork that went with the bust, Stone spots an anomaly: the guy who was caught was a low-level criminal and yet his $200,000 bail was paid quickly and without fuss. Wondering why someone so inconsequential would have that kind of support, Stone begins to follow him to see who he’s affiliated with. What Stone discovers is a hidden vault located in back of a laundry. But what is actually in the vault? Stone, along with Waters’ help, determines to find out.
Viewers of The Trust – should anyone take such an ill-advised step – will find themselves unsurprised at the dearth of reasonable ideas, the lack of credibility, and the complete absence of tension or drama. They’ll be equally unsurprised at the way in which the narrative unfolds with all the urgency of someone with crippling arthritis trying to navigate a particularly steep set of stairs. In the hands of its directors, the movie stumbles around looking for reasons to keep Stone and Waters together, while ignoring the plain and simple fact that despite the “best” efforts of Cage and Wood, the movie can’t come up with any reason they would ever team up in the first place. It’s the elephant in the room: why would Waters go along with Stone’s plan when there’s so much they don’t know, and so much that could go wrong?
But hey, this is the movies, and people do the funniest things in the movies, like purchase expensive drilling equipment from a German manufacturer because it’ll be harder to trace (really?), or let a hostage make a phone call during the middle of a heist (that won’t come back to haunt anyone, surely?). It’s a truism that the cleverer the concept the sillier the execution, and The Trust is no different in its attention to making things look and sound absurd. From the now traditional discussion where one person outlines their criminal plan to another in a public place (a Vegas casino bar on this occasion), to Stone and Waters being able to just drop their day job and concentrate on breaking into the vault, the script by co-director Benjamin Brewer and Adam Hirsch cuts narrative corners as if it’s de rigeuer for this sort of movie, and never once gives the viewer the sense that this is all happening in a world anyone could recognise.
And it’s yet another movie that features a performance from Nicolas Cage that has little to offer other than the actor’s trademark tics and quirky line deliveries. It seems incredible that you have to go back to 2013 to find a Cage performance worthy of his talent, but that’s how long it’s been (it was a banner year for Cage, with roles in Joe, The Frozen Ground, and The Croods all reminding us of just how good he can be). Here he looks tired, not quite going through the motions but perilously close to it, his mannerisms and reactions just a touch off from what they would be if he were fully engaged with the material. It’s a shame to see Cage at such a remove from what he can achieve as an actor; perhaps his upcoming turn in Oliver Stone’s Snowden will help turn things around.
Playing opposite him, Wood does his best but may now be wishing that original choice Jack Huston had been able to play Waters. It’s the “anxious partner” role, the doubting Thomas who sees the potential for disaster at every turn, and who’s proved right (and suffers for it). Since playing a certain Hobbit back at the turn of the century, Wood’s career has been a varied one, but mostly played out in shorts and TV shows. Here he’s competent enough, but like Cage he can’t wrestle anything from the script that will allow him to improve on what he’s been given to work with. As a result, it’s to Wood’s chagrin perhaps that, on occasion, he looks like he’s lost.
Rating: 4/10 – with the narrative proving only occasionally interesting or absorbing, and with the actual vault break-in taking up far too much of the running time, The Trust is more laborious than it needs to be; tedious then, and a waste of both Cage and Wood, and punctuated by unnecessary bursts of violence, it’s a movie that never settles for, or decides on, a consistent tone to help tell its story.
Like so many of his contemporaries, Guy Hamilton got into movie making in the wake of World War II. He started off as an assistant director on They Made Me a Criminal (1947) and continued in that role for the next five years, honing his craft working with directors such as Carol Reed and John Huston. In 1952 he took the plunge into direction with The Ringer, a low-key thriller starring Herbert Lom and Donald Wolfit. He continued to work steadily through the Fifties until he got the call to work on a spy movie called Goldfinger (1964). It was to be the first of four Bond outings that Hamilton would direct – the others were Diamonds Are Forever (1971), Live and Let Die (1973), and The Man With the Golden Gun (1974) – but it was also the first to fully establish the Bond template. The gritty seriousness of the first two movies was replaced with a more carefree, fantasy-lite approach that has been the hallmark of the series up until the arrival of Daniel Craig.
Goldfinger‘s success allowed Hamilton to make the movies he wanted to make, but his career was always sporadic, with periods where he seemed semi-retired. Late on he flirted with Agatha Christie, but by the mid-Eighties his career was winding down, and he made his last movie, the rarely seen Try This One for Size, in 1989. Hamilton was an urbane, intelligent movie director who was able to adapt his directorial style to the material at hand, getting the most out of it, and rarely failing to entertain the audience. And in relation to James Bond, he once made this very perceptive (at the time) comment: “One of the rules with the Bond pictures is that you’re not allowed to have a leading lady who can act – because we can’t afford them….If ever we were to have a real leading lady, the next time around we’d have to find another one. And in no time at all we’d have to have, oh, Jane Fonda for $2 million and up.”
Cast: Adrien Brody, George Shevtsov, Robin McLeavy, Sam Neill, Malcolm Kennard, Jenni Baird, Chloe Bayliss, Emma O’Farrell, Bruce Spence, Anna Lise Phillips
Psychotherapist Peter Bowers (Brody) has his own problems. His daughter has recently been killed in a road accident, and his career is being propped up thanks to the help of his mentor, Duncan Stewart (Neill). He seems to be managing his grief but is prone to moping about with a withdrawn, brooding demeanour that his wife (Baird) prefers to sleep through rather than engage with. As Bowers gets back into the routine of seeing patients, some of their eccentricities – one, a musician (Spence), swears he performed the night before at a club that closed down long ago – begin to worry him. He can’t put his finger on what’s bothering him, and a new patient, a young girl, Elizabeth Valentine (Bayliss), who won’t speak, adds further to his sense that something isn’t quite right.
When the mystery surrounding his patients deepens, Bowers does some detective work and discovers they all have something in common, something that sends him back to his hometown of False Creek and an event that happened twenty years before. As he starts to piece together the facts of what happened when he was a boy, Bowers attempts to reconnect with his father, William (Shevtsov), while also piquing the interest of local police officer, Barbara Henning (McLeavy). And when Bowers thinks he’s got to the bottom of it all, he’s unprepared for yet another revelation that puts his life in danger.
The above synopsis is deliberately vague because it would be unfair to divulge the movie’s central conceit (though there are plenty of websites that will tell you if you absolutely have to know in advance what it is). The movie itself reveals this “twist” around the half hour mark, and once it does, the movie transforms from awkwardly staged psychodrama with supernatural overtones to mystery thriller with supernatural overtones. It’s not an entirely comfortable switch, and there are more than enough clues to suggest that the movie’s narrative is a combination of two separate story ideas that weren’t strong enough on their own.
However, the switch is also welcome, as writer/director Michael Petroni isn’t as sure-footed exploring Bowers’ grief over the loss of his daughter as he is with letting Bowers loose to solve a twenty-year mystery that nobody – including him – knew was a mystery in the first place. Before Bowers arrives at False Creek, Petroni has him questioning his own sanity, but in such a crude, rudimentary way that his behaviour has all the hallmarks of having been created by someone who’s heard that grief-stricken fathers all behave in the same way. Adrien Brody is a very, very talented actor (and Petroni has been lucky to nab him), but even he can’t do anything with a character who alternates between emotionally devastated and psychologically damaged, and does so without any consistency of reasoning.
But once Bowers is deposited in the rural backwater that serves as his birthplace and the location of a twenty year old tragedy, Brody is freed from all that brooding and is free to loosen up in his portrayal. Unfortunately, the mystery he’s required to solve is one that will have viewers scratching their heads and wondering if they’re missing something. Coincidence is piled atop coincidence with increasing disregard for credibility, and Brody visits the scene of the tragedy so many times it becomes embarrassing as he remembers “everything”. In between times he argues with his father, arouses the suspicions of Officer Henning, and manages to remember – thanks to some ghostly visitations – that he should still be grieving. His actions appear more selfish and cathartic than altruistic, and even when the scope of the tragedy is revealed (and the mystery that goes with it), Bowers ensures that it’s all still about him.
There’s the germ of a good idea for a movie here, but under Petroni’s watch it’s not allowed to develop fully. The script repeatedly makes leaps of faith that are either baffling or absurd, Neill’s character should have all the answers but disappears too quickly, Officer Henning’s connection to the tragedy is handled as awkwardly as Bowers initial malaise, and a secondary character’s fate is decided on entirely so that one particular clue can be introduced and drive the movie forward. But by this time, most viewers will be beginning to wonder just how silly it can all get; the last ten minutes will reassure them: very.
Backtrack is a movie with a handful of competent performances, but they’re not allowed to flourish thanks to the vagaries of Petroni’s script, and it’s insistence on being two parts obvious thriller and one part supernatural mishmash. Brody must be wondering what’s happened to his career (The Grand Budapest Hotel seems like such a long time ago now), while Shevtsov and McLeavy are reduced to playing pawns at the mercy of the script and Petroni’s wayward sense of direction (in both senses of the phrase), while Neill is lucky enough to escape with a minor role.
And for a movie shot entirely in Australia, this may be one of the few occasions where an Australian movie looks so nondescript. The early scenes in Melbourne could have been filmed in any large city in any number of countries, and the town of False Creek wouldn’t look out of place anywhere in America’s Deep South. DoP Stefan Duscio did some great work on his last feature, The Mule (2014), but here it’s as if he’s been instructed to make everything look bland and/or neutral. With so little to engage with on an emotional level, it’s one last disappointment to have a movie that’s so insipid to look at as well.
Rating: 4/10 – Petroni asks too much of both his cast and the audience in telling such a dreary tale, with the result that Backtrack is a movie that never really gets started; it doesn’t help that it gets sillier and sillier as it progresses, until by the end whatever positives it possessed at the start have been abandoned in favour of a generic thriller outcome that is as tedious as it is absurdly set up.
The first in a weekly series designed to encourage debate on thedullwoodexperiment, and where readers/followers/first-timers/anyone can air their opinions/views/thoughts on the topic/subject/idea in question.
With the release this week of the teaser trailer for this particular movie, the Question of the Week is:
Is anyone really, seriously, actually looking forward to seeing The Magnificent Seven?
Cast: Neel Sethi, Bill Murray, Ben Kingsley, Idris Elba, Lupita Nyong’o, Scarlett Johansson, Giancarlo Esposito, Christopher Walken, Garry Shandling, Brighton Rose, Jon Favreau, Sam Raimi
The first of two live action versions of Rudyard Kipling’s classic tale – the other, just called Jungle Book and directed by Andy Serkis, is due in 2018 – Disney’s remake of their own beloved animated classic arrives with much fanfare and enough hype to stop even Shere Khan in his bloodthirsty tracks. It’s taken over $300 million at the international box office already, and the House of Mouse is keen to get director Jon Favreau and writer Justin Marks back for a sequel (surprise, surprise). The CGI environment created for the characters, and against which token human Mowgli (Sethi) interacts, is incredibly detailed and realistic, while the final showdown between tiger and man-cub is… well… it’s okay.
And that’s the problem with the movie as a whole: it’s okay. When the best thing you can say about a movie is that the backgrounds look realistic, then it’s a sure sign that whatever Favreau and co were aiming for, they didn’t actually achieve it. And yet the material is there to be taken advantage of, as Disney did nearly fifty years ago when they made the animated version. But this version makes some significant changes to the original, and while you don’t want an exact carbon copy of what went before, there’s too much that’s different for the movie to work as well as its predecessor.
First, there’s the musical elements. Shoehorned into the movie are two of the animated version’s most enjoyable songs, The Bare Necessities and I Wanna Be Like You. This isn’t a musical version of the story, and yet these two songs are included, and awkwardly at that. There’s no reason for them to be there, unless Disney felt that modern audiences, perhaps weaned on the animated version, would feel upset if they weren’t included. As it is, The Bare Necessities is given a nostalgic feel that helps offset the oddness of its inclusion, but the same can’t be said of I Wanna Be Like You, an uncomfortable rendition of which is given by Christopher Walken as King Louie, a giant orang-utan you half suspect has been eating his tribe in order to get so big. Some viewers may well be happy to see these songs included, but in terms of the movie itself they’re interruptions to the flow of the movie and the narrative.
But the flow of the movie is also a problem. Favreau is a capable director but he doesn’t always get the pace of a movie right – check out Iron Man 2 (2010) as a prime example. Here he connects each scene as if they were part of a larger puzzle and he’s got too much time to put it all together. This leads to stretches where The Jungle Book pads along like Shere Khan at the watering hole, full of intention but held back by an unwanted need for restraint. It makes for a choppy, uneven movie that holds the attention completely in certain scenes, but then abandons that attention in favour of just moving on.
And then there’s the ending, changed from the animated version – where Mowgli heads off to the man village because that’s where his future lies – to reflect… well, it’s not altogether clear. Mowgli has clearly found his true place in the jungle, but it’s at odds with what Shere Khan and even Bagheera have been saying all along: that Mowgli will grow up to be a man, and man has no place in the jungle (it’s even part of the jungle law, but the script ignores this practically the moment it’s been brought up). Back in 1968 this bittersweet ending was the perfect conclusion to Mowgli’s story, but here it seems like a cynical decision to help set up and ensure the sequel(s) that Disney are looking for. In a weird way, the script’s decision to integrate Mowgli more fully with the jungle environment makes him seem like another Tarzan in the making.
On the plus side, Favreau has assembled a great cast to give vocal life to the animal characters, with Murray on fine form as Baloo, and Johansson proving especially effective as Kaa. Kingsley is somewhat swamped by the script’s decision to make Bagheera almost entirely like a resigned schoolmaster, Nyong’o and Esposito make the most of their underwritten wolf parts, while Walken does his best to make King Louie frightening, but weirdly, sounds more like Kevin Spacey doing an impression of Christopher Walken than Walken himself. And then there’s Idris Elba, cast as Shere Khan; somehow his gruff tones don’t seem to suit the role, and his scenes have an awkwardness to them in terms of his voice not fitting the look of the character. In effect, it’s as if his voice has been badly dubbed.
As the only human in the movie, a lot rides on the abilities of Sethi, and while he’s certainly proficient, his performance isn’t as effective as it could be. In the scene where Mowgli decides to leave the jungle and go to the man village, his lack of experience leaves the scene feeling perfunctory rather than highly emotive, and you get the sense that Favreau was unable to get more from him. If Sethi is to take part in any further movies as Mowgli then it’s to be hoped that his experience this time round proves to be the bedrock for better performances in the future.
All in all, The Jungle Book isn’t a bad movie per se, it’s just that it doesn’t have that spark that would have made it a truly enjoyable movie. And despite its evident popularity with audiences worldwide, it’s likely that its success is due to brand recognition rather than any inherent quality. Remakes are a tricky business to get right, as any studio or production company should know, but with Disney – and it shouldn’t be the case – you somehow expect something a little bit better, and a little bit more entertaining. That it’s just okay is perhaps worse than its being just bad.
Rating: 5/10 – nowhere near the live action remake audiences really needed, The Jungle Book suffers from being too clinical and too respectful of itself (if not Kipling’s original tale); with too many moments that pass without emphasis or emotion, it remains a beautiful movie to watch, but an empty one as well.
Cast: Géza Röhrig, Levente Molnár, Urs Rechn, Todd Charmont, Jerzy Walczak, Sándor Zsótér, Marcin Czarnik, Levente Orbán, Kamil Dobrowolski, Uwe Lauer, Christian Harting
Having claimed a number of awards, including an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, since its debut at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, Son of Saul has also been extremely well received by critics and was in many Top 10 lists at the end of last year. Through its central character of Saul Ausländer (Röhrig), we’re introduced to the Sonderkommandos, concentration camp work units that were usually comprised of Jews, and whose job it was to assist in the disposal of the people (and their belongings) who had been killed in the gas chambers. A Sonderkommando was never given a choice about their role, and though they had slightly better living conditions than the rest of the camp inmates, it was inevitable that they would be “retired” after three or four months of working.
Against this backdrop, and the events that took place at Auschwitz in October 1944, first-time writer/director László Nemes has fashioned a grim, harrowing, and remarkable movie debut that acknowledges the horrors of the Holocaust while also allowing for rare moments of peace and beauty and hope amidst all the despair of life in a concentration camp. How Nemes does this is perhaps the most impressive aspect of the movie, as the camera – formidably handled by DoP Mátyás Erdély – sticks close to the character of Saul and rarely strays further than a foot away from his head or shoulders. When it does, though, and the larger picture of life in the camp is revealed, it has an impact that Nemes quite carefully cultivates for maximum effect.
With the camera being so close to Saul, Nemes also distances the background by keeping it out of focus, a decision that fits with the world as Saul sees it. There will be viewers who will find this approach annoying, and perhaps less dramatic than if the wider “world” around Saul had been revealed in all its ugly wretchedness. But this would be to miss the point of Saul’s involvement with the rest of the camp. Even before he discovers the boy who survives the gas chamber – and then only to be summarily suffocated by a Nazi doctor – and takes him to be his son, Saul has chosen to survive in the camp by cutting himself off from everyone else, and only interacting with others when he needs to. So the movie’s visual design, where events happen around Saul and without his direct involvement, are kept fuzzy and indistinct, and where Saul has chosen to keep them.
To mitigate against this distancing effect, however, Nemes has also made the movie’s sound design an integral part of the drama, as through the various sounds and noises of the camp, and those made by the inmates and the guards, the things that Saul chooses to ignore are made vividly obvious and given a chilling reality that offsets the visual composition. As the continual blurring of background images occurs so too does the sharpness of dialogue and sound effects, perhaps most effectively realised in the sequence where, with one of the gas chambers not ready to be used, the latest arrivals are taken out to the nearby woods and stripped and shot. It’s an incredible sequence, shot in a cinéma vérité style that reinforces the horrible expediency that cost so many people their lives.
Away from the visual and aural decisions that make the movie look and sound like no other Holocaust movie before it, Saul’s story is a simple one: he wants to give the boy he believes to be his son a proper burial, and the attendant service given by a rabbi (Saul is not a practising religious man; as a result he doesn’t realise that a rabbi isn’t necessary for what he wants to do). Saul becomes obsessed with making his plan happen, but it proves harder to achieve than he thought. He’s unable to find a rabbi who will perform the ceremony, and his efforts to find one are constantly interrupted or foiled by the demands of some of the other Sonderkommandos. They’re planning an uprising, and want Saul to help them. His attempts to please them and also satisfy his own needs form the basis of the narrative, but Nemes makes it clear that Saul’s need to bury the boy is his first priority.
Again, some viewers may have an issue with the single-mindedness that Saul adopts here, as he jeopardises both his own life and those of his fellow Sonderkommandos as he seeks out a rabbi. His determination is such that he acts recklessly, and seemingly without regard for his own safety or the safety of others. An attempt to photograph some of the atrocities carried out at the camp is nearly discovered thanks to Saul’s unthinking behaviour, and later, when he finds someone he believes to be a rabbi (Charmont), Saul nearly ends up being mistaken for a new arrival (and killed). And when circumstances dictate that the uprising needs to happen sooner than planned, Saul’s only concern is ensuring that the boy’s body is kept safe enough to be buried still. But it’s this dogged refusal to give up that enables Saul to keep going, it’s his way of retaining some humanity in the face of the wanton cruelty he sees each and every day.
As Saul, Röhrig gives an incredible, melancholy performance that is built on telling expressions and a minimal amount of dialogue. Saul is a man consumed by reticence and detachment, focused on whatever he himself is doing at any given moment, and Röhrig, whose only previous acting experience was in a Hungarian TV show in 1989, shows the character’s distance from his surroundings as both a blessing and a curse. It’s a finely nuanced and controlled performance, intelligent and surprisingly emotive, and his ability to display a variety of emotions through the mask-like appearance Saul adopts in the camp is a masterclass in screen acting.
In addressing the issue of the Sonderkommandos and their place in the concentration camps, Nemes is also giving a voice to the people who didn’t survive the camps. It’s a fine distinction to make when so many other Holocaust movies celebrate the survivors over the ones who met their fates in a gas chamber. It makes the movie a bleaker experience than most, and its haunting, distressing tone is all the more forceful and compelling because of it. Son of Saul may not be a comfortable movie to watch, and it may not be rewarding in the traditional sense, but it is a testament to the tenacity and the courage of those who found themselves in one of the worst predicaments ever: that of aiding in the deaths of millions of people like themselves.
Rating: 9/10 – expertly handled, and refusing to indulge in any kind of melodrama, Son of Saul is one of the finest Holocaust movies ever made; intense, horrible (and horrifying), disturbing, and brilliant, there are moments that will linger in the memory, but in shining a light on a rarely discussed aspect of “life” in the camps, the movie earns its place in cinema history as an important historical record.
Cast: Chris Pine, Casey Affleck, Ben Foster, Holliday Grainger, Eric Bana, John Ortiz, Kyle Gallner, John Magaro, Graham McTavish, Michael Raymond-James, Beau Knapp, Josh Stewart, Abraham Benrubi, Keiynon Lonsdale, Rachel Brosnahan
On 18 February 1952, the SS Pendleton, sailing from New Orleans to Boston, was one of two ships caught in a severe storm; both broke in two off the coast of Cape Cod, Massachusetts. The other unfortunate ship was the SS Fort Mercer. With thirty-three crew members aboard the still floating stern of the ship, the Coast Guard despatched a motor boat from nearby Chatham, though with only four crew on board. In rough seas and with no guarantee they would reach the ailing ship in time, the motor boat reached the Pendleton and was able to rescue all but one of the remaining crew. The rescue was widely regarded as one of the most daring rescues in the history of the United States Coast Guard. In 2009, the rescue was the subject of a book, The Finest Hours: The True Story of the U.S. Coast Guard’s Most Daring Sea Rescue by Michael J. Tougias and Casey Sherman.
If the brief account given above seems to indicate that The Finest Hours will be a gripping, edge-of-the-seat recounting of the that daring rescue mission, then potential viewers be warned: the movie doesn’t reach that level of excitement at any point in its running time. Instead the movie elects to be a very pedestrian retelling of the events on that fateful day, and initially, seems more concerned about covering the romance between motor boat skipper Bernie Webber (Pine) and his girlfriend, Miriam Pentinen (Grainger). We get to see how the two meet, and then there’s a protracted sequence where their engagement requires Bernie to speak to his commander, Daniel Cluff (Bana), for permission to wed (it’s a formality but Bernie treats it as if he’s asking Cluff for something major).
In the midst of Bernie’s dithering, the SS Fort Mercer‘s plight is reported, but other coast guard stations are already dealing with it. It’s only when the Pendleton’s equal predicament comes to light that Bernie actually stops being a bit of a doormat and chooses to go out to the stricken vessel. Most everyone sees it as a reckless, even suicidal mission, and Bernie is joined by just two of his colleagues, Richard Livesey (Foster) and Andy Fitzgerald (Gallner), and by a seaman, Ervin Maske (Magaro), who just happens to be there when the Pendleton‘s plight is discovered. Each man knows that there’s a good chance they won’t make it to the ship, or even come back, but as Bernie says, “They say you gotta go out. They don’t say you gotta come back”. And with that reassuring quote, the four men take a motor boat out into heavy seas and fight their way over a stretch of treacherous water called the Bar. And from there, and without a compass to guide them, they attempt to find the Pendleton.
Even now it all seems highly dramatic, the kind of heroic true story that proves inspiring, and makes the viewer want to be a part of that rescue mission if it were at all possible. But the movie founders from this point on, and while the crew of the Pendleton, ostensibly led by engineer Ray Sybert (Affleck), struggle to keep the stern afloat until help arrives, Bernie and his crew are faced with a seemingly number of violent swells to overcome, and all of which are bested by Bernie – basically – accelerating over or through them. This repetition proves wearing, and robs the movie of any tension, because no matter how big the approaching waves are, Bernie just floors it, and any sense of peril is quickly and completely dismissed.
Meanwhile, Sybert has to contend with semi-mutinous crew member D.A. Brown (Raymond-James) and his insistence that they get off the Pendleton by using the lifeboats. In one of the movie’s better scenes, Sybert shows everyone why that isn’t such a good idea, but otherwise any tension is dissipated by Affleck’s restrained performance, and no concrete sense that anyone on the ship is in any real danger (which is disconcerting considering their situation). And this is the movie’s main problem: it doesn’t really know how to make all this frightening or gripping or challenging. Even during the rescue, a sequence which should have ramped up the tension to unbearable levels, the movie fails to capitalise on the situation and keep the viewer on the edge of their seat. Instead the movie acts as a kind of dramatic, clichéd tick box exercise.
The movie also marginalises all its characters with the exception of Miriam. While Bernie and his crew become mere figures on a boat who are focused on the seas ahead, everyone back at Chatham is kept either hanging round the coast guard radio, or eventually, in a risible sequence where the townsfolk gather their cars at the dock with their headlights on to guide poor Bernie home, asked to pull together and be part of the heroic effort themselves. This is partly down to Miriam, who makes an attempt to get the rescue mission called off because Bernie has decided to do the right thing. It’s an incredibly selfish thing to do, but the movie tries to make her look heroic rather than self-serving, and it never recovers from it. And once he is out there, and despite several dozen close ups, Pine’s Bernie could be just about anyone getting buckets of water thrown over them.
The Finest Hours also has an odd visual look about it, one that heightens the artificality of the CGI rendered waves and the Pendleton‘s exterior, particularly when the actual rescue is in progress. It’s at this point that the viewer will be unable to retain a sense of the scope and size of the mission itself, and will be trapped into thinking, “what a small tank they must have used”. And then, with the trip out to the stricken Pendleton having taken so long, the movie rushes the return trip, and the movie ends without ever establishing itself as a thrill-ride or a serious, dramatic tale of heroism on the high seas.
Partly this is due to the structure of the script, which pays too much attention to events playing out on land rather than at sea, and Gillespie’s watered-down direction (pun intended). As a result, the cast make little impact, with only Grainger standing out from the faceless crowd – Foster is one of several cast members who are completely wasted in their roles – and the movie lurches from one unconvincing scene to the next, devoid of any sense of unease, and ending up as stranded as the Pendleton is in the few hours left to it before it sinks completely.
Rating: 5/10 – only occasionally (and even then briefly) powerful, The Finest Hours does scant justice to its true story, and introduces too many fictional elements to make it work effectively; with a bland central performance from Pine, and without a strong-minded director at the helm, the movie disappoints more than it impresses and seems almost wilfully lacklustre.
An actor with a wider range than most people give him credit for, Sean Bean is also one of the most consistently reliable actors working today. He may be well known for his more villainous roles – which, admittedly, he’s very good at playing – but since playing Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), his career has become more varied and (no doubt for him as well as us) more rewarding. His tough, uncompromising demeanour belies a man who listens to classical music when he’s preparing for a scene, and who is still a fervent supporter of Sheffield United football club. He made his feature debut in Winter Flight (1984), and since then has amassed over a hundred credits in both the movies and on TV, including appearances in Lady Chatterley (1993), the Sharpe series of TV movies, and more recently, season one of Game of Thrones (2011). On the big screen he’s a familiar face who brings a certain degree of gravelly sincerity to his roles. Here then are five Sean Bean movies that feature some of his more under-appreciated portrayals… and where his character doesn’t get killed.
Tom & Thomas (2002) – Character: Paul Sheppard
A rarely seen children’s movie, Tom & Thomas sees Bean play the adoptive father of one of a set of twin boys (both played by Aaron Johnson, now better known as Aaron Taylor-Johnson). Once they meet, the other twin’s involvement with a group of child smugglers sets the pair off on a great adventure. It’s an enjoyable, unassuming movie, and it’s good to see Bean making the most of such a different role from the ones he’d been used to up until then.
Anna Karenina (1997) – Character: Count Alexei Kirillovitch Vronsky
Unfairly dismissed by critics upon release, Bernard Rose’s Russian-shot (and badly cut by the studio) version of Anna Karenina certainly has its problems in the script department, but remains a beautifully realised production of Tolstoy’s classic novel, with superb use of music by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov. Bean is a convincing, dashing Vronsky, and his scenes with Sophie Marceau are impeccable for the way in which both actors portray the overwhelming passion their characters feel for each other.
North Country (2005) – Character: Kyle Dodge
Bean takes a supporting role in another movie that broadens his career CV, playing the good friend of Josey Aimes (Charlize Theron) who brings a class action suit for sexual harassment against the owners of an iron mine. Based on a true story, Niki Caro’s movie is eloquent, passionate, and inspiring, and Bean fits in well as one of the few men in Josey’s life who aren’t either sexist scumbags or manipulative, uncaring “primitives”.
Far North (2007) – Character: Loki
In this strange and haunting tale set in the arctic tundra, Bean plays a man whose sudden interjection into the lives of a mother and daughter leads to both unexpected passion and forecasted tragedy. Kapadia’s last feature until this year’s Ali and Nino, Far North is a tough, uncompromising movie made against some stunning backdrops and giving Bean the chance to reveal a less macho side to his acting.
The Field (1990) – Character: Tadgh McCabe
Although it was a commercial failure, The Field still has a good reputation amongst movie lovers, thanks in the main to Richard Harris’s performance as Bull McCabe, but there are other positives as well, such as Bean’s stalwart turn as Bull’s son. It’s a powerful portrayal of a son unwilling (or unable) to meet his father’s expectations of him. It’s a movie where tragedy is just waiting to happen, and where pride is the instigator of that tragedy, and in the hands of writer/director Jim Sheridan, packs such an emotional punch you’ll be bruised for days after seeing it.
1976 was a slightly odd year for movies. There were enough instant classics to help compile this list, but it wasn’t a banner year, and it passed by without too much yelling from the rooftops about this movie or that movie. After the excellent year that was 1975 (itself following on from an even more impressive 1974), 1976 was a year where the movies that were released seemed a little below par. It was almost as if movie makers around the globe – with the exception of those mentioned below – were off their game, or that there weren’t enough original ideas going around for anyone to get a hold of and make something of them. But the ten movies listed here were successful, and fully deserving of all the accolades and critical acclaim (if not the box office success that some missed out on) that came their way. It’s a tribute to the movies themselves, and to their makers, that we’re still talking about them today.
1) Rocky – It was the movie that made Sylvester Stallone a star, and introduced us to a character who has endured several sequels, and in 2015, enjoyed something of a renaissance. Rocky Balboa is a terrific creation, and Stallone understood him completely, bringing a degree of gravitas to the role that is still effective when viewed forty years on. Future incarnations may have tarnished Stallone’s original interpretation, but the movie itself is a wonderful tribute to the idea that even the most average of people can achieve greatness if they work hard enough and believe in themselves.
2) Taxi Driver – Known more for its “You talkin’ to me?” moment than anything else these days, Martin Scorsese’s harsh, uncompromising look at one man’s mental deterioration in the face of overwhelming moral and political corruption is one of the most jarring and breathtaking movies ever made. There’s a crude energy to the movie that makes De Niro’s incredible performance all the more uncompromising, but while he’s the movie’s central focus, let’s not forget the superb supporting performances from the likes of Cybill Shepherd, Jodie Foster, and Albert Brooks, and .
3) In the Realm of the Senses – More controversy, as Japanese director Nagisa Ôshima explores the true story of Sada Abe, whose affair with her master became all-consuming, and which led to a terrible act of violence. The controversy here was the explicit sex performed by actors Tatsuya Fuji (the master) and Eiko Matsuda (Abe), but this isn’t an erotic movie by any standards, thanks to an exemplary script by Ôshima that focuses on the couple’s relationship and the overwhelming emotions that developed as a result of their affair. That said, the movie does have its lurid moments, but these are offset by Ôshima’s refusal to judge either character, and thanks to two very committed performances by Fuji and Matsuda.
4) Network – The movie that saw Peter Finch win a posthumous Oscar for his portrayal of a newsreader who famously declares that he’s “mad as hell, and [he’s] not going to take this anymore”, Network is much more than a glimpse into one man’s mental unravelling, but a stinging satire on the nature of news gathering and the lengths some organisations will go to in exploiting their staff for financial gain. Packed with enough cynicism to stop a herd of charging elephants, Paddy Chayefsky’s script (also an Oscar winner) is one of the most intelligent, gripping and perceptive ever written, and Sidney Lumet’s direction teases out every nuance.
5) All the President’s Men – William Goldman is the scribe responsible for the saying, “In Hollywood, nobody knows anything”. But in adapting Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward’s riveting account of Richard Nixon’s fall from grace through the Watergate affair, Goldman shows he knows exactly what he’s doing, and the result is a political thriller that grabs its audience from the beginning and doesn’t let go for the next two and a quarter hours. Even though we all know the outcome, and from this point in time the depth of Nixon’s involvement, it’s still an incredible journey that the movie takes us on. The only question that remains unanswered is why Bernstein has a bicycle wheel at the side of his desk all the time.
6) 1900 – Bernardo Bertolucci’s epic, five hours plus look at the social and political upheaval in early 20th century Italy that saw fascism give way to communism, and as seen through the eyes of two friends – Gérard Depardieu, Robert De Niro – from opposite sides of the class divide. Beautifully shot by Vittorio Storraro and spanning over forty years, Bertolucci’s confidence in the material and his cast provides the viewer with some of the most breathtaking moments in world cinema (or just cinema as a whole). Unfairly mistreated since its release – several edited versions have been more available than the original cut – this is richly rewarding and a movie that never fails to excite, stimulate and inspire.
7) Robin and Marian – A somewhat dour but compelling addition to the Robin Hood myth sees Sean Connery’s older, wiser Robin returning from the Crusades to woo Audrey Hepburn’s Maid Marian one last time. It’s a bittersweet affair, a jaded yet moving romance set against the backdrop of Robin’s desire to retire the legend that’s built up around him, but which no one wants to see come to an end. It’s another movie that’s been beautifully shot, this time by David Watkin, and features an eloquent score by John Barry that is actually one of his very best, and for those patient enough to wait for it, features one of the best sword fights ever committed to the big screen.
8) The Killing of a Chinese Bookie – The kind of indie crime drama that no one makes anymore, John Cassavetes’ superb examination of an inveterate gambler’s addiction getting him into serious trouble with the Mob is a masterclass in dramatic tension. As the gambler in question, Ben Gazzara gives a career best performance, but this is Cassavetes’ movie through and through, as he explores notions of masculinity and pride through the actions of one of life’s continual losers, and structures the movie in such a way that you’re never sure if everything is happening for real or in some fever dream that Gazzara’s character is having.
9) Fellini’s Casanova – Only Fellini could have made a movie about the world’s most famous seducer of women and made it equally about the era that defined him, a time of opulence and unfettered greed. Against this backdrop, Fellini paints a compelling portrait of a Renaissance man who doesn’t fit in unless he’s bedding women as a way of warding off his own lack of self-confidence, and to maintain his “reputation”. Fellini directs in a fantastical, scattershot, self-aggrandising manner that reflects the material, and as the grand seducer, Donald Sutherland gives one of his best performances. Unfairly dismissed by US critics on release, this is now regarded as one of the best of Fellini’s later works, and deserves to be more widely available as well.
10) Kings of the Road – With standout performances from Rüdiger Vogler and Hanns Zischler as the two men who decide to travel together around Germany, Wim Wenders’ melancholic musings on loneliness and acceptance, combined with a visual austerity to match their emotional obduracy, is one of the finest German made movies of the Seventies. A road trip that also acts as an exploration of a country still coming to terms with the Second World War, this is a movie that has a surprising amount of heart beneath its drab exterior, and despite its length (nearly three hours) compels the viewer to see how it all works out.
Cast: Kyle Gallner, Adam Nee, Matthew Gray Gubler, Melissa Benoist, Hannibal Buress, Stephen Lang, Daniel Edward Mora, Johnny Pemberton, Eric Christian Olsen, Cooper Huckabee, Beth Grant
Sometimes the best movies happen because somebody had a “what if?” idea. What if toys had a life of their own? What if an amnesiac remembered the important parts of his life by tattooing them on his body? What if Netflix were to give Adam Sandler a six picture contract with carte blanche as to the movies he makes? (Hmmm…) Another great “What if?” idea is the one that makes Band of Robbers so intriguing (and appealing): what if Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn were adults in the modern world, and they were still trying to find Murrell’s hidden treasure?
In the hands of the Brothers Nee, this idea is given a great deal of dramatic and comedic licence, with the older Tom and Huck still friends but on opposite sides of the law (or so it seems). Huck (Gallner) is a petty criminal who has just got out of prison and is determined to go straight. Tom (Nee) is a policeman living and working in the shadow of his older brother, Sid (Olsen). Tom is also a dreamer, still obsessed with finding the treasure that eluded Huck and him when they were boys. So when Huck is released from jail, it’s only natural that Tom is there to meet him. And it’s only natural that Tom has a plan, one that includes Huck, and their three friends, Joe Harper (Gubler), Ben Rogers (Buress), and Tommy Barnes (Pemberton).
His plan is based on dubious intelligence gained from local sot Muff Potter (Huckabee). Muff has seen Injun Joe (Lang) – who has also never given up on finding the treasure – depositing something in the safe of a local pawn shop. Surmising that it must be something of great value to Injun Joe for him to keep it there, Tom has deduced (without any concrete evidence) that it must be the treasure that’s stowed away in the pawn shop’s safe. He devises a plan to rob the pawn shop that seems foolproof enough, but on the day his plan is stretched almost to ruin. First he’s teamed up with a new partner, Becky Thatcher (Benoist), then Joe forgets to hire a Mexican to drive the van he hasn’t stolen for the robbery (don’t worry, it does all makes sense in the context of the movie), and instead of stockings for Joe and Huck to wear, they’re stuck with carrier bags. But they do get away with the contents of the safe: what amounts to around two hundred dollars and a pewter coin.
Of course the pewter coin proves to be a clue to the whereabouts of the hidden treasure, but from this point on, Huck and Tom are pursued by Injun Joe. And as they solve another set of clues, Becky’s involvement – and awareness that Tom is up to no good – adds to the two friends’ predicament. And as Injun Joe’s “methods” of tracking them down leads to a surfeit of dead bodies, it becomes more and more difficult for Tom and Huck to find a way out that will keep both of them alive and out of jail. And then there’s the problem of the Mexican gardener, Jorge (Mora)…
Band of Robbers is a movie that could have gone horribly, terribly wrong. But thanks to the Nee brothers’ inspired approach to the story they’ve concocted, the somewhat awkward mix of comedy and drama that threatens to deflate like an overcooked soufflé, both maintains its shape and rises confidently to provide a delicious pudding of a movie that is a joy to consume (okay, enough of the food metaphors). Viewers might initially be put off by Nee’s portrayal of Tom Sawyer – a literary icon let’s not forget – as a morally dubious, consequence-blind idiot, but this is just the surface of the character, and Nee wisely adds more serious layers to his performance as the movie progresses. But he also provides much of the humour in the movie’s first three chapters, his forty mile an hour, rambling streams of consciousness containing a good deal of anarchic tomfoolery and comic verbal dexterity. Some jokes miss the target (as you’d expect from this kind of onslaught), but they’re in the minority.
As Huck, Gallner is the necessary straight man to Nee’s grown up wild child. He gives Nee room to do his thing, and quietly holds the movie together by virtue of being the serious one. Huck is a counter-balance to Tom’s freewheeling hijinks, and while the part may appear staid in comparison, Gallner exudes a laconic resignation re: the events he finds himself caught up in, that anchors the movie and stops it from going too far in the opposite direction. Huck is the movie’s beating heart, while Tom is the brain that’s not been wired correctly. Both actors excel in their roles, and there’s a genuine sense of camaraderie in their moments together.
Elements of Twain’s work are woven into the storyline, with nods to the original stories, and characters other than Tom and Huck are given modern day life. There are time outs for the characters to reflect on issues of responsibility and hope, morality and immorality, and the nature of determinism. Heavyweight concepts some of them, but again, the Nee brothers keep things light and buoyant for the most part, and ensure that even in the movie’s darker places there’ll soon be another reassuring moment of lightheartedness to soothe away any anxiety. And it’s in the movie’s favour that whenever the material does darken – watch out for a chilling exchange between Injun Joe and Joe Harper – that the Nees’ let it go as dark as it needs.
It would be easy to dismiss Band of Robbers as just another low budget comedy with serious pretensions, but while it does have its very silly moments, it also has its fair share of moments that reward the viewer and should leave them grinning from ear to ear with the pleasure of it all (such as the little old lady who has her car hijacked by Injun Joe). It does fall down in places – Tom’s clumsiness is an extra attempt at comedy that the movie doesn’t need, Becky Thatcher is an overwhelmingly vanilla character, some of the visual gags aren’t so well staged as others – but all in all, this is a surprisingly effective tribute to the genius that is Mark Twain, and it more than holds its own against other modern day screwball comedies.
Rating: 8/10 – an unexpected gem of a movie, Band of Robbers has genuine heart and an engaging style, and is all kinds of quirky – but in a good way; Nee and Gallner make a great team, and the movie has a confidence about it that never falters, making it a treat for anyone fortunate enough to watch it.
Cast: Chloë Grace Moretz, Nick Robinson, Alex Roe, Liev Schreiber, Maria Bello, Ron Livingston, Maggie Siff, Zackary Arthur, Maika Monroe, Tony Revolori, Talitha Bateman, Cade Canon Ball, Alex MacNicoll, Nadji Jeter, Gabriela Lopez
It’s actually hard to know where to start with The 5th Wave. (It’s equally hard to know where to finish as well.) Yet another adaptation of the first in a trilogy of YA novels – this time by Rick Yancey – the movie has so many problems, and so many flaws it’s almost embarrassing. Up front and centre there’s Chloë Grace Moretz, an actress whose career has evolved – somehow – out of calling a bunch of goons “c*nts”, and who lacks the wherewithal to cry properly when her character’s father dies (look closely and you’ll find that Moretz’s face is not the definition of “tear-streaked”). Moretz just isn’t convincing enough as Cassie, the nominal heroine of the novels and the movie, and every time she’s asked to show some emotion it’s like there’s a war of attrition going on in her head, as she struggles to work out which facial expression will fit the bill. Often she settles for confused, or confused and angry, almost like they’re default modes for acting.
Then there’s the supporting cast, a mix of relative newcomers and veterans who all should have known better and sought employment elsewhere. On the veterans side there’s Liev Schreiber and Maria Bello, two very good, accomplished actors who are more than capable of giving award-winning performances (and they have). But here it’s a very different story (much like this adaptation of Yancey’s novel). Schreiber, playing a US military commander, looks bored and sounds bored throughout, as if he’s committed to the movie before reading the script and is now regretting the decision completely. Bello, on the other hand, at least has the luxury of being almost unrecognisable as another member of the military, but even she can’t bring anything resembling an effective portrayal to a role that requires her to jab her co-stars with a needle gun or spit out her lines as if they were poisonous.
On the relative newcomers side, it’s disheartening to see the likes of Revolori, excellent as the bellboy in The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), and Monroe, also excellent as the heroine of It Follows (2014), reduced to making ends meet by playing characters who are either unmemorable (Revolori) or stereotypically superficial (Monroe – the tough as nails female who doesn’t take shit from anyone). If this is the best movie they could get to work on in 2015 then they need to seriously rethink who’s representing them. As the two male leads, Robinson (as Cassie’s high school crush, Ben) opts for sulky and remote, while Roe (as Evan, who helps Cassie when she’s injured) aims for a combination of Theo James and Ansel Elgort from the Divergent series, and misses them both by a mile.
The look of the movie is also a problem. At the beginning, as Cassie provides an overview of the alien invasion and the various waves that have occurred so far, there’s a definite feel of money being well-spent, and the movie has an exciting buzz about it. But once that section is over, and Cassie, her father (Livingston), and her younger brother Sam (Arthur), arrive at the refugee camp it all becomes very generic in terms of both the art direction and the cinematography. And by the movie’s end, the cast are consigned to running around empty underground corridors in a volley of scenes that could be taking place in any post-apocalyptic low-budget sci-fi movie.
All this can be laid firmly at the door of the script, a mishmash of YA tropes and sci-fi melodrama that’s been cobbled together by three writers, all of whom should have been able to do a better job than this. Susannah Grant wrote the script for Erin Brockovich (2000) and was nominated for an Oscar, while Jeff Pinkner has an envious track record on TV shows such as Lost and Fringe. And then there’s Akiva Goldsman, an Oscar winner for A Beautiful Mind (2001), and a recent participant in YA adaptations with the script for Insurgent (2015). But when all three can’t stop a movie from sounding like it was written by a trio of people who believe caricature and cliché are the best options, then the movie is pretty much abandoning all hope and waving a surrender flag.
But all this pales in comparison to the flaccid direction foisted on the movie by Blakeson. Making only his second feature after The Disappearance of Alice Creed (2009), Blakeson has trouble making any of it sound or look convincing, from the tepid romance between Cassie and Evan, to the video game sequences where Ben and his squad try and hunt down the aliens – possibly the worst example of the movie’s haphazard approach to editing – whatever the requirement, Blakeson finds some way to spoil it or prevent it from reaching its full potential. When you can’t even find a way of making Liev Schreiber look menacing, or inject any excitement into the destruction of a major air force base then you’ve got real problems. Maybe there’s a budgetary explanation for some of this but in the main, nothing works as well as it should.
Rating: 3/10 – its opening salvo of disaster aside, The 5th Wave works best as a cautionary tale to other makers of dystopian YA movies, in that they should avoid replicating this movie’s mistakes and do exactly the opposite of what it does here; limp and unappealing, with yet another inexplicable lead role for Moretz, it’s a movie that redefines the term “lacklustre” and has hopefully done enough to dissuade any sequels from being made.
Cast: Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Jaeden Lieberher, Kirsten Dunst, Adam Driver, Bill Camp, Scott Haze, Sam Shepard, Paul Sparks, David Jensen
It’s only taken writer/director Jeff Nichols four movies to become a movie maker whose projects carry an enormous weight of expectation. First there was Shotgun Stories (2007), then there was Take Shelter (2011). He followed that up with Mud (2012), and now he brings us Midnight Special, a tale about an eight year old boy who may be an alien, or an emissary from God, or something else completely. It’s a measure of Nichols’ success that he’s taken what could have been an awkward, unconvincing story – in lesser hands – and made it into an articulate, gripping tale that’s also exciting and thought-provoking.
The movie begins with the police searching for a missing child called Alton Meyer (Lieberher). He’s been abducted from a religious compound known as the Ranch. It’s head, Alton’s adoptive father, Calvin Meyer (Shepard), wants him back, and within the next four days. But Alton – who has to wear blue goggles during daylight hours – has been abducted by his real father, Roy Tomlin (Shannon), and he, along with his friend, Lucas (Edgerton), are trying to keep Alton safe and also get him to a certain place in four days’ time. There, something momentous will happen, but neither Roy nor Calvin Meyer knows what it is; and at this point, Alton doesn’t know either.
The FBI, and the NSA – in the form of agent Paul Sevier (Driver) – are also trying to find Alton, as they have become aware that he has been including coded intelligence in the sermons he’s written for Meyer. But Alton has other gifts, and one in particular, connected to his sight. When Ray decides to stop off at an old Ranch member’s home, that particular gift almost causes the house to shake apart. From there, the trio drive to the home of Alton’s mother, Sarah (Dunst), but not before an incident at a gas station reveals that Alton’s heat signature is similar to that of a nuclear bomb. Now a foursome, they travel on to the location that Alton must reach, however, they’re unaware that two members of the Ranch, Doak (Camp) and Levi (Haze), are tracking them with the intention of kidnapping Alton and returning him to the Ranch.
Before they are able to, Alton, who has been getting sicker and sicker, and has to avoid direct sunlight, tells Roy that he can no longer continue to keep hidden from the sun. Roy exposes Alton to a sunrise, and it has an extraordinary effect: he can now walk about unaffected in daylight, and knows exactly what he needs to do and why he needs to be in a certain place at a certain date and time. As he tells Roy: he doesn’t belong here.
Whether or not Alton makes it to his rendezvous is, ultimately, neither here nor there. What’s important is the journey he makes getting there, and the way in which he and his parents, and Lucas, make it there. One of the strengths of Nichols’ impressive and layered screenplay is the way in which Roy’s parental determination to not let anything stop him from getting Alton to his rendezvous, sometimes presents itself as unfeeling and harsh. When he and Lucas encounter a state trooper, Roy is unequivocal: he tells Lucas to shoot him. Roy doesn’t care about anyone else, only Alton, and his zeal and willingness to put moral certitude aside makes him one of recent cinema’s more interesting and intriguing characters. Shannon is perfect for the role, morally absent when he needs to be, but a committed, loving father as well, and fully able to show these two sides of Roy’s character without any sense that he’s a Jekyll and Hyde personality and able to call on either side when necessary.
What’s also important is that Roy believes in Alton, albeit in a different way from Calvin (he and his followers believe that Alton’s rendezvous is also the time when they will all be judged by God). He believes in his son, wholeheartedly, and even if what he knows is incredibly far-fetched. If it wasn’t for the light that can stream from Alton’s eyes when he’s exposed to sunlight, the viewer would be hard pressed to believe in the same way as Roy does. Nichols doesn’t keep the viewer in the dark for long (no pun intended), and any doubts are dispelled when Elden (Jensen), the ex-Ranch member has to have “another look”. From then on, Alton’s gifts/abilities/powers are assimilated into the narrative in a way that both explores them and allows them to drive events forward. As the otherworldly Alton, Lieberher does a fantastic job of balancing his closeted childhood with his increasing awareness of the skills he really possesses (he reads a lot of comic books and at one point asks about Kryptonite as if it were real).
Nichols orchestrates all this with a tremendous amount of flair, even as he keeps a tight rein on the more overt sci-fi elements of his screenplay. The subplot involving the Ranch members sometimes comes across as more of an afterthought, or late addition to the script, while the inclusion of Sarah doesn’t give Dunst much more to do than look concerned and hesitant. And there’s one very important question that Nichols leaves right until the very final shot to explain (in many respects it’s the most important question). But with such a high level of confidence on display, Nichols can be forgiven a couple of narrative faux pas, and his handling of the action sequences is bracing and not at all derivative (a major feat in itself). The whole thing is beautifully shot by Nichols’ regular DoP Adam Stone, and there’s an insidious, disorientating score courtesy of another Nichols’ regular, David Wingo.
Rating: 8/10 – Nichols continues his run of impressive features with a movie that asks what it is to be human, and comes up with some unexpected answers in the process; Midnight Special is an intelligent, original, and supremely well executed sci-fi drama, as well as a fantastic example of what can be done with a well constructed script, a more than willing cast, inspired direction, and all on a modest budget.
With all the potential topics available to movie makers worldwide, and all the potential titles that could be used by movie makers, it does seem a little unfair on audiences when two movies are released relatively close to each other, and have the same title. Remakes are to be expected, but original movies? Surely, movie makers could check to see ahead of time if some other release is using the same title? And if so, to avoid any confusion, change theirs if they’re going to be second out of the gate? Well, with these two movies that obviously didn’t happen. But if anyone out there is reading this, and they have a movie coming out that has the same title as another recent release, please could you make it clear in the advertising that your movie isn’t the other one? Because that would definitely ensure that viewers don’t run the risk of being disappointed (as they would be in this instance).
The Boy (2015) / D: Craig William Macneill / 110m
Cast: David Morse, Jared Breeze, Rainn Wilson, Bill Sage, Mike Vogel, Zuleikha Robinson, Aiden Lovekamp, David Valencia, Sam Morse
A quiet motel, the Mountain View Lodge, is the setting for this adaptation of a section of a novel by Clay McLeod Chapman, a dark psychological thriller that deftly explores the mind of nine year old Ted Henley (Breeze), a boy with little to do other than clean the rooms and scoop up roadkill from outside the motel. Ted is a quiet child who misses his mother; she ran off with someone who stayed at the motel and is now living in Florida. His father, John (Morse), is a lonely, broken down man running a lonely, broken down motel, and both in their own way are still grieving the loss of Ted’s mother. John drinks too much, while Ted – who gets paid twenty-five cents for every roadkill he finds – begins to leave food on the main road so that animals will be attracted to it and run over. His aim is to amass enough money to leave and journey to Florida. And when his father mentions a deer being in the vicinity, Ted sees a chance to “make a killing”.
His plan goes slightly awry. The deer is hit by a car that ends up in need of repair, and the driver suffers a bad head injury. The man, named Colby (Wilson), ends up staying while he recuperates and his car is fixed. As the only other person there, Ted starts to gravitate towards him, and they strike up a friendship of sorts. When a couple and their son arrive and need an overnight stay, Ted fixes their car so that it won’t start the next morning. While they hang around another day, Ted and the son play together, but Ted’s lack of social awareness makes their play awkward for the other boy. When the family leaves, Ted reverts back to spending time with Colby, and he learns that the man has recently lost his wife in a fire.
But Ted’s interest in Colby is matched by the local Sheriff’s interest in him as well. Colby’s story about his wife may not be the whole truth, and a decision that Ted makes has terrible consequences, but not as terrible as the consequences when attendees at a local prom book the motel for their post-prom celebrations and treat Ted badly.
The Boy is often an uncomfortable viewing experience, but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Anyone watching the movie beyond its opening stretch will feel certain that what they’re watching is the slow accumulation of traits that will lead to Ted’s first foray into full-blown sociopathic behaviour. And for the most part, they’d be right. But while Ted is front and centre for most of the movie, Macneill pays close attention to the two fathers in Ted’s life during this time, and in doing so, also makes much of the atmosphere that inadvertently supports Ted’s inevitable “decline”.
John is unable to connect with his son, unable to realise just how much Ted is hurting over the loss of his mother. It’s likely he’s always been unable to connect with Ted; he mentions how time-consuming running the motel has always been. It’s therefore also likely that his father has been neglecting Ted for as long as Ted can remember (John inherited the motel from his father). With both parents absent from his life, one physically, the other emotionally, it’s no wonder that Ted has grown up with a different view on life than anyone else he knows (or meets). It’s also no wonder that he tries to strike up a relationship with Colby. Colby represents an opportunity for escape, but Colby has his own issues, issues that conflict with Ted’s needs. There is an inevitable confrontation, but while it’s a necessarily dramatic one, it pales before the conversation Colby has with John about what’s best for Ted. So much is said, and yet it’s what is left unsaid by the two men (and yet understood by them) that makes their conversation so important and so relevant. It’s the point in the movie when the viewer realises that Ted is lost forever.
As Ted, Breeze gives an astonishing, mesmerising performance. The movie’s effectiveness rests almost solely on his young shoulders, but he’s more than up to the challenge, portraying Ted with an eerie, absent intensity that is more chilling to see than any number of masked slashers. There’s a moment where he clutches a rabbit to his chest, and the vacant look on his face is so disconcerting it’s hard to know if the rabbit is safe or not. Kudos then to Macneill for his direction of Breeze, a major plus that could have gone horribly wrong, and a testament to both their individual skills. Elsewhere, Macneill maintains a palpable sense of impending, unavoidable dread, using the Colombian locations to excellent effect and playing up the unremitting remoteness of Ted’s childhood.
But while the bulk of The Boy is chilling and engrossing, it’s in the last thirty minutes that it takes an unfortunate stumble. The prom party are deliberately antagonistic and unsympathetic, and treat Ted harshly. Their behaviour, coupled with his father’s final act of neglect, pushes Ted to take much more determined, and deliberate steps on his road to becoming a full-blown sociopath. Macneill lets the sequence get away from him, prolonging an audio aspect of things way beyond what’s necessary, and tying things up rather too neatly, thereby negating the complex narrative structure he and original author Chapman have constructed up til then.
Rating: 8/10 – as an examination of nascent evil, The Boy is unsettling in its portrait of a nine year old’s unhealthy fascination with death; with superb performances from Morse and Wilson, and especially Breeze, Macneill’s movie is one that will linger long in the mind, and prove difficult to shift.
The Boy (2016) / D: William Brent Bell / 93m
Cast: Lauren Cohan, Rupert Evans, Jim Norton, Diana Hardcastle, James Russell, Ben Robson
The boy in William Brent Bell’s inefficient chiller is actually a doll, and rather than have a fairly nondescript name like Ted Henley, goes by the unlikely moniker of Brahms Heelshire (pronounced Hillsher). Despite having perished in a fire twenty years ago, Brahms’ memory is kept alive by his parents (Norton, Hardcastle), who treat the doll as if Brahms were still alive. They “teach” him, play him music, read to him, set a place for him at meal times, and have set times when he “sleeps”. Into this bizarre situation comes American, Greta Evans (Cohan), to act as Brahms’ nanny while the Heelshires take their first trip away in twenty years. Before she’s even got halfway through the front door her shoes go missing, the first example of several mysterious occurrences that happen in the following days, and which lead her to believe that the doll is possessed by Brahms’ restless spirit.
As you might expect, The Boy is a silly attempt at a horror movie, and one that stretches credibility as often as it possibly can. In contrast to its titular “rival”, this movie lacks subtlety, a coherent script, competent direction, and halfway decent performances. It’s the kind of movie that looks as if it was offered to Hammer but they turned it down because it needed too much work to make it, well, work. As it is, we’re treated to interminable shots of the doll staring back at the camera, Greta exploring the Heelshires’ house and finding herself trapped at one point in the attic, the promise of Greta’s abusive boyfriend turning up just to be killed, and a twist that undoes everything – however superficial – that the movie has built up until then.
The performances are serviceable, though Norton and Hardcastle bring a level of competence to their roles that the movie doesn’t deserve. Otherwise there’s very little to recommend The Boy, only that it’s mercifully forgettable.
Rating: 3/10 – despite a level of expectation that the movie has no intention of following through on, The Boy is neither scary nor terrifying, and for the most part settles for risible; Cohan is wasted, and Evans struggles as a character who has no clear reason for being there except to look confused – much like the unlucky viewer who settles down to watch this thinking they’re going to watch a movie about a nine year old sociopath.
John le Carré has always been a good source for the movies. His stories are both entertaining and complex, and his characters, often as complex and deceptively drawn as le Carré’s plotting, are the kind that actors can have a veritable field day with. Our Kind of Traitor, with its criminal Russian oligarch seeking to defect to the West, is, on the page, a terrific blend of cat-and-mouse political manoeuvring and heightened thrills. By making his main character a naïve teacher (played here by Ewan McGregor), le Carré draws the reader/viewer in by using their lack of experience to muddy the waters further in terms of what’s going on. With luck, the more than competent cast, along with screenwriter Hossein Amini and director Susanna White, can pull off yet another movie adaptation of a le Carré novel that’s both compelling and engrossing, and the cinematic equivalent of a page-turner (just like its source).
Making his second directorial feature – after Bad Words (2013) – Jason Bateman brings yet another dysfunctional group to the big screen, The Family Fang. It’s also yet another indie comedy, with quirky characters and even quirkier situations, but this appears to have a better pedigree than most, being an adaptation of the novel by Kevin Wilson – though the script is courtesy of David Lindsay-Abaire, whose last screenplay was for Poltergeist (2015) (not a great recommendation when you think about it). Hopefully, the top-notch cast, including Bateman himself, Christopher Walken, Josh Pais, Kathryn Hahn, Michael Chernus, and Nicole Kidman (in a performance that will hopefully remind us just how good she can be after a slew of recent, underwhelming performances), have brought their A-game to the material, and this will be one movie that proves to be both memorable and funny in equal measure.
It’s directed by Steven Spielberg. It’s a children’s fantasy from the extraordinary mind of Roald Dahl. It’s The BFG. And it looks – on the evidence of the trailer – a lot like Pan (2015). But again, this is Spielberg at work here, and when it comes to spinning magic on the big screen, he’s in a league of his own. The BFG also features the final screenplay written by the late Melissa Mathison, whose last collaboration with Spielberg was a little movie called E.T. – The Extra-Terrestrial (1982). And with recent Oscar-winner Mark Rylance playing the titular giant – his amazing voice tips you off before you even see the BFG’s face – it all looks to be in very good hands, even if – and this is just an instant reaction to seeing them – the other giants, Fleshlumpeater et al., all look like early character designs from Warcraft (2016).
Cast: Jason Bateman, Rebecca Hall, Joel Edgerton, Allison Tolman, Tim Griffin, Busy Philipps, Adam Lazarre-White, Beau Knapp, Wendell Pierce, Mirrah Foulkes, Nash Edgerton, David Denman, Katie Aselton
You move to California from Chicago to start afresh. You try and put behind you the pain of a miscarriage. If you’re the husband you work hard and press for that promotion at work that you really deserve. If you’re the wife you stay at home and redesign the new home you’re living in, because interior design is what you do. And if you’re someone who used to know the husband years ago in high school then you suddenly show up out of the blue and start making things awkward.
Such is the basic set-up of Joel Edgerton’s first foray into feature directing – he also wrote the script – a dark, psychological thriller that asks that old chestnut once more: what do you do when your sins come back to haunt you? The sins in question belong to Simon Callum (Bateman). He’s smart, he’s determined, he’s likeable – in short, he’s too good to be true. And so it proves, with past behaviours having been retained twenty-five years on, and his moral centre somewhat askew. When Simon is approached by a man who claims to know him (but who he doesn’t recognise), his offhand, dismissive attitude is covered by a thin veneer of acceptance. But when a bottle of wine appears on Simon and his wife Robyn’s doorstep, with a note from the same man – whose name is Gordon Mosley (Edgerton) – Simon is made uncomfortable. And this being a thriller, the audience knows that Simon is going to feel a lot more uncomfortable before the movie’s conclusion.
But Edgerton the writer pulls a bit of a switch, and instead of having Gordon (known as Gordo) continue to make Simon’s life uncomfortable, the old high school classmate starts dropping in unexpectedly when Simon isn’t around. Robyn (Hall) is polite, and always invites him in, and even though she’s a little bit unnerved by his presence, she’s also sympathetic towards him, suspecting that his life hasn’t turned out as well as Simon’s has. She lets him set up their new TV, and increasingly seems pleased to see him when he visits. Simon is less than happy with this, and wants nothing more to do with Gordo, even though he can’t specify why.
An invitation to dinner at Gordo’s house doesn’t go well, however, and Simon uses the opportunity to end their renewed relationship. But when an incident at their house sends Simon back to Gordo’s home, he learns something alarming: it isn’t Gordo’s home at all, but belongs to someone he works for. The police become involved, briefly, but without any evidence of a crime committed against the Callums, they’re powerless to intervene. Later, Gordo sends an apology, but Simon is angry, while Robyn is more accepting. This is the beginning of a rift that will grow between them, but right then, Simon’s bid for promotion is going well, and he feels able to control everything that’s happening around them.
Of course, this proves foolish, as Gordo continues to manipulate their lives from afar. Robyn falls pregnant, and later learns some disturbing information about Simon and Gordo’s time in high school. She delves deeper, and what she finds out throws everything into sharp relief, and places her marriage in jeopardy. And all the while, Gordo hovers in the background, a shadow figure that may or may not be seeking justice for wrongs done to him in the past, or a malevolent force of the present, with undisclosed reasons for targetting Simon.
The Gift is a movie that tells its fairly straightforward tale with a small amount of visual flair, and a deeper understanding of untrammelled arrogance. Simon is a creep, something that’s made clear almost from the start, and his character is off-putting and insincere. It makes feeling sorry for him virtually impossible, and as the audience learns more and more about him, and his true colours shine through (however blackly), any potential sympathy is washed away in a tide of unhealthy revelations. Bateman makes the most of Simon’s more despicable justifications for his behaviour, and revels in playing the movie’s real bad guy, but it’s a role that doesn’t allow for much development or depth. And by the end, when the full extent of what’s been going on is revealed, the viewer’s main reaction is likely to be that of ennui rather than satisfaction.
As the harried, semi-stalked Robyn, Hall is her usual intelligent but emotionally removed self, peeling back the layers of Robyn’s past with more dexterity than Bateman is allowed to do, but ultimately falling short of showing us why Robyn is with Simon in the first place (or why she stays with him until events give her no choice). Hall is also let down by the script’s decision to introduce a drug problem for Robyn, and then have it resolved within fifteen minutes. Other subplots are either forgotten or abandoned, with the disappearance of the Callum’s dog, Mr Bojangles – potentially an occurrence that could ensure a great deal of suspense – again resolved far too quickly and far too easily. Likewise the matter of Gordo’s using his boss’s house; viewers may not be surprised by this development, but they might well be surprised at the way in which it’s not used to further the plot and is just abandoned along with so much else that acts as filler for the movie’s first half.
As the drama mutates uneasily into melodrama – Simon assaults Gordo and warns him off, Simon’s promotion suffers a serious setback – the tension increases, but Edgerton the director doesn’t have the experience to really make an audience sit on the edge of their seat or hold their breath in anxious anticipation. Some scenes fall flatter than a pancake, while others maintain a sense of unease that is undone by the use of too little light. There are a handful of dream sequences that seem out of place, but Edgerton integrates them with the narrative more effectively than some other (more experienced) directors would have done, but there’s still the lingering feeling that even though he’s done his homework, the writer/director/star could have done with a little bit of assistance in pulling it all together.
Rating: 6/10 – better than most psychological thrillers (but only just), The Gift should more accurately be called The Gifts, or even Several Gifts Left on a Doorstep; Edgerton does his best to explore notions of guilt and retribution but fails to fully engage with his audience, leading to a movie that promises a lot but only delivers a fraction of what’s needed to make it completely successful.
Cast: Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Jesse Eisenberg, Diane Lane, Laurence Fishburne, Jeremy Irons, Gal Gadot, Holly Hunter, Scoot McNairy, Callan Mulvey, Harry Lennix
$250 million budget + uneven script + wayward direction + awkward performances + Jesse Eisenberg (“The red capes are coming, the red capes are coming”) + Doomsday looking too much like the Abomination from The Incredible Hulk (2008) + Batman and Superman being upstaged by Wonder Woman = the longest, most uninteresting, most bloated and unwieldy Batman and Superman movies yet. ‘Nuff said.
Rating: 4/10 – dreary, overlong, and lacking a coherent storyline, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is neither a DC Universe movie that works, or a superhero movie that gives viewers anything new; with too many short cuts in the narrative to help overcome its sluggish construction, the movie provides further evidence – if any were needed – Snyder should move on, David S. Goyer shouldn’t be an automatic choice for DC screenplays, and Henry Cavill is still so awfully po-faced as the son of Kal-El.
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