DVD Review - Perfect Sense (2011)

Perfect Sense, 2011.

Directed by David Mackenzie.
Starring Ewan McGregor, Eva Green, Connie Nielsen, Stephen Dillane and Ewen Bremner.


SYNOPSIS:

A chef and a scientist fall in love as an epidemic sweeps the globe.


The first thing to go is our sense of smell. Then we start to cry uncontrollably. Then an insatiable hunger as our sense of taste disappears.

In Perfect Sense, the question of ‘what makes us human’ is asked as a mysterious virus begins to infect the world and take away our senses, with no one safe. Are we defined by what we hear, see, smell, taste, and touch? Could we love and connect with those around us if we lost these senses? In the film, we focus on the start of a relationship between a chef (Ewan McGregor) and a scientist (Eva Green) who are just two typical people living in Glasgow who get struck by the virus and the results are very melancholic, sad, thoughtful, and, for the most part, the film works due to its originality and realistic portrayal of human nature.

The virus is never explained, but is a mere MacGuffin for director David Mackenzie to ask us - would you embrace the senses you had left, or would you turn to anarchy? What kind of human are you and what do you think of fellow man? McGregor and Green have more ups and downs in this film than most married couples have in 50 years, but the extreme emotions they are feeling are very well played out and this is McGregor on rare form as he conveys an ‘average guy’ expertly well and we feel genuine sympathy for him as their happiness is put in jeopardy.

The script is full of realistic dialogue in the way two damaged people might actually talk; most notable was the scene where Green asks him to tell her ‘something to make her feel special’. He tells her that he left his fiancé when she became critically ill and does so without any remorse and in return she tells him he is an asshole and he agrees, not putting up any protests. I found this to be refreshingly honest and open, as here are two characters showing real life characteristics, not false creations.

Mackenzie has filled his film with interesting images and as each sense goes, we get a real understanding of how this might affect the key characters and the panic builds at an organic pace, never rushed. The final scene, when the two lovers are moments away from blindness, is as touching as anything I saw last year and a perfect way to end the film both visually and thematically.

The film undoubtedly works most credibly when the attention is on McGregor and Green, and less so when the action spreads to the rest of the world, with some montages of still image, and actual footage of humanity at its most destructive (war, fighting, looting). I found some of this to be borderline preachy, as I don’t want messages that humanity can be harmful to its own survival rammed down my throat from what is otherwise a very intelligent and thought-provoking film.

Rohan Morbey - follow me on Twitter.

Movie Review - The Watermen (2011)

The Watermen, 2011.

Written and Directed by Matt L. Lockhart.
Starring Jason Mewes, Richard Riehle, Floyd Abel, Luke Guldan and Tyler Johnson.


SYNOPSIS:

A group of sport fishermen and their attractive lady friends go on a fishing trip, but they soon get captured by some murderous watermen and must fight for their lives.


What worse place is there to be stranded than the middle of the ocean? With the boat engine tampered with and the flares missing, the dodgy watermen who filled the tank and sold the group interesting looking bait are of course to blame. The group are starving, deprived of drinking water and desperate. So when a large fishing boat comes along with aid, their desperation clouds their judgement. The water they glug so aggressively is laced with some sort of drug, and the group soon literally hit the deck unconscious.

The Watermen have got them right where they want them – ready to off them one by one to use their flesh for their bait-selling business, because fish of course can’t get enough of the taste of tasty, tasty human. These men of the sea are completely psychotic, well equipped on their island with a whole host of ways to maim the beautiful people and make a profit.

This low budget horror follows the conventions of the genre pretty rigidly, and unfortunately it does suffer a little for it. Of course, the tension is still there as you get behind the group and wish for their escape – but parts of The Watermen are painfully predictable, including the ending. You’ve got the pretty people, our victims, you’ve got the typical gore, and of course the mandatory nudity. The recipe for a decent budget horror is there, but it never rises above average. It dares to throw in a bit of rape, and complete exploitation of women, but it’s really nothing new, is it?

In terms of the film making, there are some well-crafted shots in The Watermen, and some interesting deaths (one, for example being a hook through a truck roof), but the most frustrating element of this film is the amount of pointless filler. The number of panning establishing shots that just waste time, and fade out into other panning establishing shot, is excruciatingly annoying. These, alongside a few other shots dotted throughout the film are completely fruitless and distracting.

The other failed element of The Watermen is the actual watermen themselves. They speak in an accent and tone that is pretty much impossible to work out. It’s difficult to feel threatened by killers that mumble in a way that makes them sound a bit…simple? It also makes what should be an interesting (but overused) speech by the ‘leader’ to one of the victims pretty pointless. The victim asks the waterman why they’re attacking innocent people, and from what I could make out, his response was that they ain’t so innocent at all. It always makes me cringe when this sort of dialogue is thrown into horror, it’s clearly some weak message about a society of sinners. Blah blah blah. It’s embarrassing.

All in all, The Watermen is not a terrible film. It’s average at best to be honest. It sticks to conventions and very rarely strays away from them. Modern horror has pretty much taken us in so many directions in terms of plot twists, that there’s little point in trying to create something new and unique – as proven by this entry to the genre.

Cat Fyson

Thoughts on... Hostel (2005)

Hostel, 2005.

Directed by Eli Roth.
Starring Jay Hernandez, Derek Richardson and Eythor Gudjonsson.


SYNOPSIS:

Three backpackers travelling through Europe find themselves staying in a hostel with a dark secret.


It's difficult to deny that Hostel is an important film within the horror genre, ushering in a wave of torture porn. David Edelstein's 2006 article 'Now Playing at Your Local Multiplex: Torture Porn' is largely credited with the first use of the term 'torture porn' to describe a distinct group of films. Sure, the term torture porn has been retroactively applied to Saw (2004), a film which is now considered to be key viewing within this exploitative subgenre, but Hostel popularised the term. Director Eli Roth has hit back at the terminology, claiming "I think that the term 'torture porn' genuinely says more about the critic's limited understanding of what horror movies can do than about the film itself" - which is a fair point. Regardless, by labelling a film as torture porn, you're generally aware of what you're getting into (generally graphic senseless gore), and rarely are there any surprises to be had. There are countless debates to be had regarding the worth of this critically-applied term, but that's for another time - right now, we've got a movie to discuss.

Hostel takes its time to really get going. We're introduced to two American backpackers, Josh (Derek Richardson) and Paxton (Jay Hernandez), who are travelling across Europe with their Icelandic friend Oli (Eythor Gudjonsson), the self-titled 'King of Swing'. This trio are primarily preoccupied with two things, sex and drugs. To Paxton and Oli, women are mere objects to be fucked, and although Josh is a little more sensitive, deep down he's also a red-blooded American male wanting to score. The set-up is strikingly familiar to EuroTrip (2004) and both films actually feature eerily similar moments set in a train carriage. Unfortunately, Hostel attempts to get us to like these horny males by including supposedly comedic scenes, but this doesn't really do a good enough job of establishing the characters. If anything, once the idea of comedy has been introduced, the rest of the film just feels awkwardly comedic instead of horrific.

After visiting a few clubs and showing us copious amounts of boobs, the trio are told about a hostel near Bratislava. It's the sort of place that isn't featured in any guidebooks, but there is a plethora of hot local girls just desperate for some American action. It's around this point that my first issue with the film is raised. Roth seems keen to portray American ignorance (both Josh and Paxton are hardly understanding of foreign cultures), yet is constantly reaffirming and reasserting American authority and desirable status. We can easily read Hostel as a warning to Americans - your paranoia of the outside world is justified, just look at what could happen to you!

The first third of the film wastes our time trying to get us to side with these unlikeable characters, but once the second act kicks in things get a little more interesting. In a move lifted from Psycho (1960), Josh, the least detestable guy, is killed off. With over half the movie still to go, it appears we've lost our protagonist. Paxton steps up to assume lead, and must navigate his way out of a factory where innocent tourists are chained to chairs and brutally murdered with an assortment of tools by the rich with too much money for morals.

Roth interestingly casts Takashi Miike in a cameo role, which is perhaps a little unfortunate. Sure, we think we see more torture than we actually do in Hostel (and rarely is the gore particularly unpleasant - one eye-slicing scene sounds far more horrid than it actually is) but the sight of Miike reminds us of a film that similarly includes acts of torture - Audition (Ôdishon) (1999). Now here is an example of a film that doesn't just rely on torture to sustain a plot, and one is left wishing we were watching an equally accomplished example of filmmaking.

That's not to say Roth is entirely without talent. Hostel does raise some really interesting ideas and themes, but they're never really developed to their full potential. It takes more than just schlocky special effects to properly get under the skin and unsettle, and sadly Hostel doesn't have much else to offer. The last third is at least vaguely entertaining, but the film is severely hampered by questionable acting and a messy narrative. Besides a couple of stand-out scenes, there is sadly little to warrant recommending this movie to those who aren't easily pleased by just gore and boobs.

I want to offer a defence to Hostel, but the first act is so successful in crafting really odious characters that it seems almost futile. This is one of those cases where the idea far surpasses the film itself. I do like Eli Roth's enthusiasm for the horror genre and I think he is a director with potential, but here he flounders early and struggles to really recover. Still, that didn't stop Hostel from being hugely successful and profitable - evidently an audience exists for torture porn.

Liam Underwood

365 Days, 100 Films #96 - Despicable Me (2010)

Despicable Me, 2010.

Directed by Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud.
Featuring the voice talents of Steve Carell, Jason Segel, Russell Brand, Will Arnett, Kristen Wiig, Miranda Cosgrove and Julie Andrews.


SYNOPSIS:

A supervillain adopts three orphaned girls so they can steal a shrink ray from his enemy’s lair.


Gru (Steve Carell) wants the moon, his reason being that once he has it, the world will give him whatever he wants for its safe return. But what, exactly, does Gru want?

Gru is a supervillain with his own army of short, yellow minions, a secret, underground base and an elderly, evil scientist, Dr. Nefario (Russell Brand). What he does not have, however, is respect – not from the head of the Bank of Evil (formerly Lehman Brothers), nor from his uninterested mother. Gru doesn’t really want the moon, or all the riches it could provide. He wants that respect. He wants to be the greatest supervillain in the world.

Despicable Me’s world is an intriguing one, inhabited only by normal people and evil geniuses, with not a single superhero of which to speak. Such a lack of regulation involving frequent plot-foiling and ass-whoopery has created a climate where these supervillains can behave as they wish: crushing cars to find a parking space, popping a child’s balloons, casting a café’s queue in ice with a freeze ray to hop to the front. Incidentally, product placement is queasily rife in this film. That it is aimed at those poor, impressionable children makes the experience all the more nauseous.

All these supervillains are constantly trying to outdo one another, and Gru’s grand idea is the theft of the moon – but he needs a shrink ray to do so. The only one in existence is in the possession of Vector (Jason Segal), a spoilt twit (his father is head of the Bank of Evil) with a predisposition towards aquatic-life-themed weaponry. Upon his and Gru’s first meeting, Vector proudly displays his Piranha Blaster, which fires piranhas. Later, he unveils his new creation: the Squid Gun, which fires squid.

Only one thing can penetrate the many defences of Vector’s head quarters – young girls selling cookies. Specifically coconut ones. No, there isn’t anything pervy about this. Well, there might be in the subtext (immature, sociopathic man-child lures 12 year old girls in uniform into his lair), but the film doesn’t play his motivation that way. He simply loves their cookies (again, not a euphemism). So Gru adopts three girls from the local orphanage to smuggle a box of cookie-shaped robots into Vector’s mighty fortress. The obvious solution.

Before this point, the film intercuts between Gru and the three girls. Gru receives far more screen time, and they all encounter each other near the film’s beginning as the girls attempt to sell him some cookies – but that is all. This is the film’s structural and narrative flaw.

Gru is initially an unsympathetic character, and remains that way for the first two-thirds of the film (SPOILER: he and the girls foster a loving relationship by the end). He has a handful of tender moments to break up his inherent evilness – he is a supervillain, after all – when the film flashes back to his youth and his relationship with his mother. These, however, are few and far between.

If Steve Carell’s name wasn’t so large in the opening credits, you’d have no idea Gru’s was his voice. He grimaces out a poor Eastern-European accent that hinders much of Carell’s naturally comedic delivery. Those initial credits promise much – Jason Segel, Russell Brand, Julie Andrews, Will Arnett, Kristen Wiig, Jemaine Clement, Jack McBrayer, Danny McBride – but none of them sound as they do in real life. In an animated film, what is the point of having such a depth of audibly recognisable talent if they are unidentifiable? Why not cast proper voice actors? The only visible manifestation of Carell in Gru is his large nose (“Like when you go to the beach and someone yells ‘Shark! Shark!’ and then they realise that it’s Steve Carell doing the backstroke?”).

Rather, as Gru is so difficult to relate to, why not open on the three orphan girls? They are three cute, defined characters, particularly the unicorn-obsessed, youngest one, Agnes (“IT’S SO FLUFFY!”), that could easily carry the film’s opening 20 minutes. Their stories can be established – why they are in the orphanage in the first place, why the three have stuck together, why they desire adoption so very much. They’re sympathetic - they’re empathetic – unlike Gru.

Additionally, it provides a natural framework in which the three girls, who are in the dark about Gru’s supervillainary – as are we – can ask questions about his profession and backstory. Plot details and character history could be teased out organically, rather than through exposition or montage.

These are fundamental flaws, but grudgingly forgivable ones. Although the film failed in this respect, it at least tried something different - an unsympathetic, evil protagonist. Such daring is not often a trait of children’s films outside studios Pixar and Aardman.

However, one cannot forgive Despicable Me for missed opportunity. The one foot-in-the-door that the viewer is provided for a way into Gru’s psychology, so we can understand him better, is his relationship with his mother. This is told in flashbacks, when she uninterestedly sighs at her child’s increasingly impressive rocket models, and in the present day during a phone call, where she taunts him for not being the mastermind behind a recent pyramid theft. She’s the whole reason Gru is why he is. In another life, with another mother, he’d be an astronaut.

Yet the film treats her as nothing more than a cheap laugh. She only appears in the two aforementioned, very brief flashbacks and phone call scene, another appearance right at the very end of the film, and in one tiny segment of a montage during the middle.

Montages, he said through gritted teeth and a furrowed brow, there must be at least three montages in this film. It’s a short cut, an easy way of conveying character and relationship development, which should be permissible only in Rocky. They fool you into thinking you’re experiencing emotion, when really it’s just a surface level effect of music and editing. There are too many in Despicable Me. But fair enough.

What’s not fair enough is having Gru’s mother appear for no longer than ten seconds, for little more than an easy joke, during one of them. Gru and the children’s relationship is blossoming. They’ve been to theme parks and dance practices, and suddenly the moon isn’t looking quite so important – but then Gru’s mother appears. This should be a pivotal moment, where she embarrasses him and reawakens his insecurities, reminding him why he adopted the kids in the first place – to become the greatest supervillain in the world.

But she doesn’t. She gets out a photo album and shows the children a picture of Gru as a baby, his bare bottom completing the cliché. Gru places his hand on his forehead and groans. The children chuckle. They move onto the next insignificant part of the montage. Everything’s fine. Character development is ignored.

It’s not important anyway. Look at the Wii that Vector is playing on. Look how cute all these yellow minions are. Focus on them instead, and don’t forget to pester your parents about buying all our merchandise once you’ve left the cinema. That’s how we’ll get a sequel – through spin-off toys rather than characters you wish to revisit.

Gru isn’t the only supervillain at work here.

RATING **

Oli Davis

365 Days, 100 Films

Blu-ray Review - Tyrannosaur (2011)

Tyrannosaur, 2011.

Directed by Paddy Considine.
Starring Peter Mullan, Olivia Colman and Eddie Marsan.


SYNOPSIS:

A man whose life is spiralling out of control is given a chance at redemption when he meets a Christian charity shop worker.


The feature debut from British actor Paddy Considine (Dead Man's Shoes, Hot Fuzz), Tyrannosaur has been earning a host of plaudits since its premiere at Sundance last year and now comes to DVD and Blu-ray following a limited theatrical release in the UK last October. A bleak and gritty slice of social drama, Tyrannosaur is remeniscent of the work of filmmakers such as Ken Loach and Considine's long-time friend Shane Meadows, and is a superbly assured debut for its writer-director.

An extension of Considine's 2007 short Dog Altogether (which is also included as a special feature), Tyrannosaur centres on Joseph (Peter Mullan), a middle-aged, alcoholic widower whose life is consumed by wanton violence and anger. During the first ten minutes of the film, Joseph kills his beloved pet dog in a fit of rage, smashes the window of his local post office and assualts a group of youths in his local pub. However, before he can slip any further down this path of self-destruction, Joseph meets Hannah (Olivia Colman), a kind-hearted charity shop owner who appears to offer him a chance at salvation. At first, Joseph spurns Hannah's attempts to play the Good Samaritan, but as the two spark up a friendship, we come to discover that Hannah has her own issues - namely, that she is stuck in an abusive relationship with her vile and sadistic husband James (Eddie Marsan) - and it soon becomes apparent that Joseph is not the only one looking to get his life back on track.

While Considine's writing and direction is first-rate throughout, the true highlight of the film is the wonderful performances he draws from his cast. With a C.V. that includes films such as of Trainspotting, My Name is Joe and Neds (for which he also served as director), the ever-reliable Peter Mullan is of course in familiar territory as Joseph, but the real surprise is the fantastic turn from Olivia Colman, best known for her role in the Channel 4 comedy series Peep Show. As Hannah, Colman delivers a stunning performance that really demonstrates her range and ability as an actress and it comes as a surprise that BAFTA failed to recognise her work with a nomination at the British Academy Film Awards, especially with Tilda Swinton getting a nod for essentially pulling the same face for the best part of two hours in We Need to Talk About Kevin.

While it doesn't quite reach the same levels of brutality as Nil by Mouth, Tyrannosaur is certainly an uncomfortable film to watch at times; however, as with Gary Oldman's aforementioned 1997 directorial debut, it is also a powerful and affecting drama that demands to be seen - not to mention a film that firmly establishes Paddy Considine as a real talent to watch out for behind the camera.

Gary Collinson

Thoughts on... Super (2010)

Super, 2010.

Directed by James Gunn.
Starring Rainn Wilson, Ellen Page, Kevin Bacon and Liv Tyler.


SYNOPSIS:

An ordinary man decides to superhero suit up and tackle crime himself.


What would happen if an ordinary guy with no superpowers was to one day decide enough is enough, don a costume and fight crime? This is the question Super poses. If it sounds familiar, well, that'll be because Kick-Ass (2010) got there first. Regardless of this, it's a fascinating subject, and one that is handled surprisingly well here.

Frank (Rainn Wilson) is married to recovering drug addict Sarah (Liv Tyler). The movie opens with Frank at his lowest, as Sarah leaves him for Jacques (Kevin Bacon) - owner of a strip club and drug peddler. As he sinks deeper into depression, Frank turns to religion for direction. He stumbles across a public access TV show that features The Holy Avenger (an underused Nathan Fillion), and has a vision where he is touched by God. Frank believes he has been given the direction he sought, and decides to fight crime and maybe win his wife back.

It's here that we begin to question the sanity of Frank, and this is what makes Super uniquely interesting. Most superhero movies are aware that the hero is a little unbalanced, but their behaviour is always demonstrated as justifiable. We're given morals to get behind, and the violence is portrayed in a relatively safe manner where we never really question its consequences. But with Super, things aren't quite so clear. We're placed in a morally grey area, pondering the stability of Frank whilst witnessing some pretty brutal acts of violence.

Without any superpowers, Frank dons a red costume, names himself The Crimson Bolt and arms himself with a monkey wrench. He figures if he hits criminals hard enough, they'll go down. Along the way he acquires a sidekick, Libby (Ellen Page), aka Boltie. She's also somewhat unhinged, clearly enjoying the violence a little too much. Both make for fascinating character studies. Now, I must confess I am a huge fan of Ellen Page, so perhaps I'm a little biased, but she looks fantastic in her superhero costume.

There's a host of delightful secondary characters that have potential, but unfortunately aren't given much time to shine. The fantastic Linda Cardellini appears briefly as a Pet Store Employee, Nathan Fillion seems well suited in a superhero costume but isn't featured nearly enough, and Michael Rooker is a delightfully menacing bad guy who could do with a few more lines thrown his way. It's a shame such a talented cast were squandered, but they do make the most with what they're given.

At times, Super almost feels like a superhero movie directed by Michael Haneke. It allows us, the audience, to draw the line between good and bad, but is always making us question our enjoyment of the film. It's easy enough to get behind Frank when he smashes the face of a child molester, but his actions become considerably harder to justify when he attacks a couple for butting in line. Libby, meanwhile, is just clearly nuts. Her response to the carnage unleashed is near-orgasmic joy, squealing excitedly like a six year old going to Disneyland. These are our heroes, but they're difficult to really get behind.

Director James Gunn doesn't hold back in unleashing gory violence, splattering crimson across the screen or revealing the consequences of a bullet to the head. The tone doesn't quite sit right with the superhero genre, but it's actually a welcome addition. Lately, superhero movies have been moving towards a darker, grittier, supposedly more realistic feel to them. Super takes this one step further, and should be commended for doing so. It's an unsettling bleakly dark tale.

That's not to say this is a harrowing story devoid of any joy. The raw violence is juxtaposed with moments of surprisingly light comedy, and throughout the movie there is a constant struggle in trying to balance the tone. It never quite succeeds at finding a happy medium, but I must admit I did quite enjoy the result. This is a movie that certainly won't appeal to everyone, but for those who are growing tired of the superhero genre this is an original alternative. Kick-Ass may have got there first, but Super does it better.

Liam Underwood

365 Days, 100 Films #95 - Gremlins (1984)

Gremlins, 1984.

Directed by Joe Dante.
Starring Zach Galligan, Phoebe Cates, Hoyt Axton, Frances Lee McCain, Corey Feldman, Dick Miller and Judge Reinhold.


SYNOPSIS:

A small town is invaded by a gang of destructive creatures at Christmas.


“There’s a man out there. I-I-I don’t mean a man, I mean, I don’t know what I mean. I mean, maybe a…what did they call them during the war. You know, the pilots?…Gremlins. Gremlins!”

William Shatner whispers the above in his uniquely staccato way during The Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, arguably the most famous of Twilight Zone episodes. Boy, he sure looked like Orson Welles when he was younger.

He’s accompanied by melodramatic music and filmed in a distressed close-up, but the immense terror of the situation blinds you to its exaggerated style. Shatner, playing a man recently recovered from a nervous breakdown, keeps seeing a figure on the wing of his plane. He’s aware it might be only a figment of his imagination – an understanding futilely strengthened by the fact no one else can see it - but is as successful of shaking the fear as Michael Shannon’s character in the recent Take Shelter. “Gremlins!” he later repeats in horror as he watches it rip away at the electrical wires of the wing.

“You gotta watch out for them foreigners ‘cos they plant gremlins in their machinery,” the xenophobic Marty Futterman (Dick Miller) warns Billy Peltzer (Zach Galligan) as he climbs inside his car during an early scene in Gremlins. “It’s the same gremlins that brought down our planes in the big one” – a distinct echo of the sentiments in Nightmare at 20,000 Feet.

Gremlins is a Christmas film written by Chris Columbus (later the director of Home Alone, Mrs. Doubtfire and the first two Harry Potter films) and directed by Joe Dante (Piranha, Small Soldiers, The Hole and, to further the connection, an episode of the 1985 revival of The Twilight Zone). You’d imagine the two to cancel out each other’s respective sentimentality and horror. Instead Gremlins, although leaning more towards the dark, contains measures of each.

Billy is a teenager in a small town. It’s Christmas, but everyone is more hard-up than festively merry. His father, Randall (Hoyt Axton), is an inventor. His machines are kooky – a mechanised egg cracker, a portable bathroom – but all stop working properly after a few weeks. The contraptions litter the house to show faith in its breadwinner. Perhaps ‘loyalty’ is a better word, as the rest of the family approach each machine with caution and dread. But Randall’s a kind man, and they humour him out of love.

It means Billy is a central source of income for the Peltzers. Next-door’s Mr Futterman has recently lost his job, along with many in the neighbourhood. Kate (Phoebe Cates), Billy’s love interest, works two jobs. “I thought everyone was supposed to be happy at Christmas,” ponders Billy, looking a bit like the broken Jimmy Stewart in It’s A Wonderful Life that plays on the Peltzers’ small, black and white television in the film’s first few scenes.

However, not having enough money – a well-trodden theme for Christmas films – is both inconsistent and often ignored. In the film’s prologue, Randall purchases a cute creature called a mogwai from an old Chinese toyshop as a present for Billy. He initially offers $100, and then jumps to $200 for his subsequent haggle. These are not the actions of an impoverished man. Nevertheless, he buys the mogwai on three conditions from the previous owner:

1. Do not expose to sunlight. It could kill him.
2. Never expose to water. Not even to drink.
3. And probably most importantly, never feed after midnight.

As is the way with rules in films, all three are broken after a short while. The second one makes the mogwai replicate at an alarming rate, whilst the third transforms them into a dangerous, reckless gremlin-like creature.

The initial mogwai, Gizmo, stays cute and loyal to Billy. The others, led by one with a mohawk called Stripe, go about destroying the town and creating absolute chaos. They even murder a few of its inhabitants. It is here where the film becomes a sequence of set pieces and action scenes, forgetting the tales of economic woe of before. The scenes of destruction are both brilliantly executed and often very funny, but the previous warmth and subtext is pushed aside. The town’s many poor folk over Christmas are turned into mere fodder for the gremlin invasion, and the central characters only afforded a single, but heartfelt, scene to develop further.

If Gremlins were to be made now, the mogwai wouldn’t be puppets. Rather, they’d be generated digitally using CGI. Even though the gremlins are limited in what they can do, and their movement appears awkward in the way that stop-motion animation often does, their visibly tangible nature makes them far more believable, threatening and empathetic than the chipmunks, smurfs or Dobbys of today. Be thankful for Attack the Block.

But this is where we return to that man on the wing. There is a more distinct subtext than poverty that runs throughout the film – that the gremlins are a product of foreign, specifically Chinese, economic invasion. Anghus Houvouras wrote recently on this very site about the matter - “…we are shown the Godless communists attacking an American institution: Christmas.”

The observation is a perceptive one. The original mogwai, from where the gremlins came, was purchased from a Chinese man. Mr Futterman slips in at least one reference to foreigners every time he appears onscreen, specifically in relation to their manufacturing exports. Randall is an inventor, attempting to realise the American Dream, but is thwarted by overseas quality at a convention he attends. Invasion of the Body Snatchers, an allegory for the Communist invasion of America, plays in the background of a few scenes. However, subtexts are rarely that simple. Instead, Gremlins is a mirror held up against suburban America, demonstrating their self-imposed siege mentality and paranoid fears.

The old Chinese man never wanted to part with the original mogwai. Mr Futterman is a caricature, a recently made-redundant patriot channelling his anger towards foreign countries rather than the reasons for his unemployment residing closer to home. Randall can’t sell any of his inventions because they don’t work. He is an impatient man who peddles his prototypes, becoming uninterested once they start to go wrong, adding on a new feature rather than addressing the fundamental problem. Invasion of the Body Snatchers was never anything more than scaremongering, and has an argument itself that the true threat comes from Senator McCarthy’s Communist witch-hunts at the time.

No, the gremlins are not symbolic of a Chinese threat. They are too unruly, too politically unmotivated. They are depicted twice playing video games in separate instances. Their leader, Stripe (as in ‘Stars and…’) wears a mohawk like an 80s punk. They drink until they pass out and roar inappropriately at Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, making a mess of the cinema whilst they do. The gremlins are an articulation of America’s constant fear of the moral deterioration of its youth. They are mischief-makers, not political insubordinates.

RATING ***

Oli Davis

365 Days, 100 Films

Movie Review - Coriolanus (2011)

Coriolanus, 2011.

Directed by Ralph Fiennes.
Starring Ralph Fiennes, Gerard Butler, Brian Cox, Vanessa Redgrave and Jessica Chastain.


SYNOPSIS:

After being banished from the city, a military hero returns to Rome in order to extract his revenge.


William Shakespeare’s Coriolanus might not be the most famous of his plays, and certainly not, in my opinion, as loved in popular culture as Hamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing; I was surprised, then, when I saw it was to be brought to the big screen in a modern day setting. With Kenneth Branagh (the usual go-to guy for Shakespeare adaptations) making a mess of CGI settings and struggling with a dire story in Thor, this marks the directorial debut of fellow Brit and ‘thesp’ Ralph Fiennes. And what a debut it is.

There is nothing I enjoy more than seeing directors and actors who fully engage and understand the world of the film they are making, and can immerse themselves in the material. Fiennes clearly knows what a modern version of this story should look like and his understanding of the play’s themes and its pulse is evident from the start and never lets up. The film is packed with talent and Fiennes has surrounded his production with some of the industry’s finest.

Telling the tale of a war between the Romans and the Volscians in modern day urban war zone, Fiennes shoots his film entirely handheld and the style works well and is effective at all times; whether it’s putting the viewer in the battles as the bullets fly, or amongst the politicians and family as the drama reaches boiling point. The film’s opening half an hour is electrifying stuff and looks like a sequel to The Hurt Locker and is just a exciting; the sight of Fiennes as Caius Martius (later to be titled Coriolanus) in full military gear with guns and knives with another man’s blood covering his bald head is one of the most striking images I’ll see all year. However, the film is certainly not an action picture and the second half is far more talkative but in these scenes the actors deliver the thrills as we watch the likes of Jessica Chastain (fast becoming my favourite actress), Brian Cox and Vanessa Redgrave (the film’s best performance) hit all the right marks and, again, show an understanding of the play, the themes, and most importantly, the language. There is nothing more embarrassing than an actor who can’t deliver Shakespearian dialogue if called upon to do so. Even Gerard Butler walks away with his head held high, which is a miracle in itself.

Coriolanus may look like great with its handheld style and urban settings and all star cast, but it is for the more ‘mature minded’ audience who want to think about the character’s motivations and reasons for doing what they do, rather than having it spoon fed to them. If you don’t have the attention span for its 122 minutes, or think that everyone has to swear or say ‘like’ after every other word, then this may go over your head. If however, you can embrace the language, the politics, and appreciate how these can translate to 2012, then Coriolanus is the ticket for you.

Morbometer™: 7.6 OUT OF 10

Rohan Morbey - follow me on Twitter.

Movie Review - Fright Night (2011)

Fright Night, 2011.

Directed by Craig Gillespie.
Starring Anton Yelchin, Colin Farrell, David Tennant, Toni Collette, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Imogen Poots and Dave Franco.


SYNOPSIS:

A high school student comes to suspect that his next-door neighbor is a vampire.


Fright Night follows Charley Brewster (Anton Yelchin), a down-to-earth high schooler who’s just trying to fit in with the cool crowd. He’s got a pretty girlfriend, Amy (Imogen Poots), and he’s got two douchebag friends - Reid Ewing and James Franco’s younger brother Dave. One day his old best friend Ed (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) comes to him with something he’s very serious about. Ed believes that Charley’s new neighbor Jerry (Colin Farrell) is in fact a vampire. Charley obviously doesn’t believe Ed at first, but as the movie progresses he starts to take notice of some of Jerry’s actions. For instance, vampires aren’t allowed into anyone’s house without an invitation and we get a scene where Charley gets some beer from his fridge for Jerry but he won’t cross the threshold into the house. A scream from Jerry’s house causes Charley to become paranoid that his neighbor really could be a vampire. Once he finds out what Jerry truly is he goes to Vegas, hoping a Criss Angel-like magician named Peter Vincent (David Tennant) will help him stop Jerry from taking over his neighborhood.

Having seen the original after seeing this one, I have to give the remake a few more points for being completely different. Most remakes tend to be exact copies of the original, just updated a little for the new generation. Here they manage to keep the same overall plot, as well as character names, but the film is essentially different in almost every way and that's a good thing. The movie doesn’t take long to get going and once it does it never lets up. It has a kind of Disturbia or Rear Window vibe to it in the same way that we watched the main character in those movies try to figure out if his neighbor was a killer or not. On so many levels this film really works and shows that not every remake can be a complete disaster.

For one the acting in this is surprisingly great. Anton Yelchin and Colin Farrell run the show in this and give some great performances, Farrell especially. David Tennant makes for a pretty amusing vampire hunter, while Christopher Mintz-Plasse does well in his limited screen time. Also giving some good performances are the females in the movie. Both Imogen Poots and Toni Collette play great girlfriend and mom figures in the movie.

The effects here really work as well. Toward the end, some of the CGI gets to be a little much but everything up until then looks great. Story-wise the movie really works too because it sucks you right into it and the filmmakers give it a smooth and brisk pace. It’s hard to believe the guy who directed Mr. Woodcock directed this, and made it quite an entertaining movie. To me I enjoyed this more than the original Fright Night; not to say the original is bad - I just had a lot more fun with this one and liked what they chose to do story-wise more so than the original.

Jake Peffer

365 Days, 100 Films #94 - The Night of the Hunter (1955)

The Night of the Hunter, 1955.

Directed by Charles Laughton.
Starring Robert Mitchum, Shelley Winters, Lillian Gish, Billy Chapin and Sally Jane Bruce.


SYNOPSIS:

Two children are chased down the river in West Virginia by a man who claims to be a Preacher.


“Beware of false prophets. They will come to you in sheep’s clothing,” Mrs Cooper (Lillian Gish, the muse of D.W. Griffith) warns the camera in the film’s prologue, her head superimposed upon a starry night sky. Mrs Cooper doesn’t return until the final third of the film, but her guiding presence is felt throughout.

She is presented as a guardian angel of children, a fairy godmother - a protector against the fake Preacher, Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum). Establishing shots often swoop aerially from the sky, as though Mrs Cooper’s watches from above, while Powell hunts the children through the night like a big, bad wolf.

The children are John (Billy Chapin) and Pearl Harper (Sally Jane Bruce). One day their father, Ben Harper (Peter Graves), returns home with a bloody hole in his chest and a bag full of stolen money. He hides his treasure and forces his children into swearing its secrecy – not even to tell Momma.

Officers arrive and handcuff Ben on the floor. “Don’t!” is all John can whimper, half aimed at the policemen, half aimed at his father for stealing his childhood with this burden. The boy is aged instantly by his secret. Harry, that fake Preacher, learns of the money when sharing a cell with Ben, who is waiting to hang.

Harry has made a strange pact with God. He mutters to the Lord as the crazy would to an imaginary friend. It allows him to claim his twisted beliefs as the convictions of God, and he wields it powerfully over the easily manipulated and weak.

Using his imposing charisma, Harry swiftly brainwashes and marries Willa (Shelley Winters), Ben Harper’s widow. Not a hint of his hidden callousness is detected, but John sees the evil in him. It is revealed to Willa on their honeymoon night, where Harry embarks on a condemning monologue against her wanting to consummate their marriage. The woman’s body is a temple for producing life, he preaches, not a slave to the lust of man. The terror is twofold. First at the grave error Willa has made, now committed to this faux-Holy man forever and ever. Second that Harry is not simply there for financial gain. He believes he is doing right by the Lord. He is truly a madman, becoming increasingly obsessed with the Harper kids’ money. He chases those two poor kids until they have nothing left, and they become lost in a sea of children orphaned by recession.

Mitchum’s Harry Powell might be cinema’s definitive psycho, with his booming New York baritone, sounding like a demented Yogi Bear. He’s a child-catcher, a fairy-tale villain, and as he howls and bangs at the basement door that he is at one point locked behind, you almost think he’ll roar “AND I’LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!”

He has a perverse side, too. Along with the ‘LOVE’ and ‘HATE’ tattoos across his knuckles, he always carries with him a switchblade. During fits of anger, he will finger the blade within his pocket, flicking it out through the fabric of his jacket in a phallic outburst. That these most commonly occur around women – in the striptease joint at the start, or when he treats the young Ruby (Gloria Castillo) to ice cream – hints towards a disgust at his own desires.

As the film progresses, the tone and narrative twist into a dark fairy-tale: the set and lighting become more expressive, the music increasingly disquieting. Shot with a deeply focused lens, Powell and Willa’s tall bedroom, with a slanted ceiling that points towards the night’s sky, momentarily takes the appearance of a church. This, along with other aesthetic tricks of superimposition and split focus, recall the experimental visual style of Citizen Kane.

Yet scenes of immense lyricism break up these dark episodes. As the two children gently sail down the river in their commandeered fishing boat with John fast asleep from the day’s chase, Pearl starts to sing. The scenery around them doesn’t appear real, as though the current has drifted them into an illustration from an old Hans Christian Anderson book. Animals are shown going about their daily business, indifferent to these two kids in the middle of nowhere, just as night is becoming day, escaping the mad Preacher who wants to slit their throats.

This was Charles Laughton’s only film he ever directed. He was an English actor who preferred to play his characters as large as his frame (he was Gracchus in Kubrick’s Spartacus, one of his last roles), and increasingly incompatible with a Hollywood that favoured realism. The Night of the Hunter channels his artistic expressionism and is all the richer for it.

But the film was a critical and commercial failure, and he was never behind the camera again. Now it sits in the United States Library of Congress’ National Film Registry. Cinema was denied a potentially great practitioner, and one cannot help recall those saddest words of tongue and pen: “It might have been”.

RATING ****

Oli Davis

365 Days, 100 Films

Blu-ray Review - Rolling Thunder (1977)

Rolling Thunder, 1977.

Directed by John Flynn.
Starring William Devane, Tommy Lee Jones and Linda Haynes.


SYNOPSIS:

A Vietnam veteran seeks revenge after the murder of his wife and child.


Part revenge tale, part human drama, part commentary on the Vietnam war, and part study on the human psyche, Rolling Thunder is a great example of ‘they don’t like films like this anymore’ and makes a welcome debut to DVD and Blu-Ray.

The story is simple; Charles Rane and Johnny Vohden return from 7 years spent in a Vietnamese POW camp to a hero’s welcome. America has changed – the people, the town, the politics but also their family life, too. Rane’s wife has had an affair with his friend and is leaving with his young boy. His boy, only 18 months when Rane went to war, doesn’t know him and they have 7 years to catch up on. Everyone’s life has moved on except Rane but when his wife and boy are murdered in their home, he only lives for revenge.

The film was written by Paul Schrader and is a classic Schrader story. Like Taxi Driver, American Gigolo, Raging Bull and Hardcore, this film is about men at war with themselves and their struggle to fit into the society in which they live. Rane is a man of few words and even fewer emotions; we are never sure what is going on inside his mind because he won’t let anyone in, like typical men in Schrader’s worlds seldom do. The film is teetering on the edge of explosive violence from the very beginning but it isn’t until the final act that the violence, built up and accumulated over the course of the previous 80 minutes, is shown in full force. Like Taxi Driver, the men whom Rane takes his vengeance out on are a manifestation of the evils encountered throughout his life; yes, they killed his wife and child, but Schrader never wrote a scene where Rane breaks down or expresses pain for his loss because the man who went to Vietnam is not the man who came back and has no pain left to feel. “It’s like my eyes are open and I’m looking at you,” he tells one character, “But I’m dead. They pulled out whatever it was inside of me.”

William Devane is on sensational form as Rane, with subtle emotions and gestures carrying the character into a dark place where he once again feels at home in a world of death and suffering. He wears a hook for most of the film after losing his hand to the thugs who kill his family and his disfigurement becomes both physical and mental as the film unfolds. Tommy Lee Jones has a small role as Vohden and even in this, one of his first big screen appearances, you can see an actor at the top of his profession and a master of nuance and body language; he is stone faced throughout the film but his first smile is when they talk of killing the men for whom Rane is out for revenge and it is a noticeable change of direction for the character in such a small, almost throw-away laugh. The men are of few words, and they use sunglasses to block out the world they have come back to; they hide their eyes from America each time the glasses go on you can almost feel the men boiling over into madness. All they know is death and destruction now, and are happy to turn their back on their hometown in search of more of what they once tried to escape.

Rolling Thunder is a simple story with multiple layers under the surface thanks to the brilliant Schrader and lead performances. It is violent, dark, disturbing, menacing and essential cult film viewing.

Eli Roth on Rolling Thunder...


Rohan Morbey - follow me on Twitter.

DVD Review - Yamada: Way of the Samurai (2010)

Yamada: Way of the Samurai (a.k.a. Yamada: The Samurai of Ayothaya), 2010.

Directed by Nopporn Watin.
Starring Seigi Ozeki, Kanokkorn Jaicheun, Sorapong Chatree, Thanawut Ketsaro, Winai Kraibutr and Buakhao Paw Pramuk.


SYNOPSIS:

Betrayed and left for dead, the young Japanese samurai Yamada finds a new home in Siam and soon faces his greatest battle against the elite warriors he once regarded as brothers.


Based upon the exploits of Yamada Nagamasa, a Japanese samurai and adventurer who rose to prominence during the Sukothai Dynasty in Ayutthaya in the 17th century, Yamada: Way of the Samurai is a historical action epic from Thailand that brings together Japanese swordplay with the bone-crunching, hard hitting Muay Thai style made famous by Tony Jaa with the likes of Ong-bak and Warrior King. Although there’s a decent amount of high-impact martial arts entertainment on offer, Yamada is hampered somewhat by its low production values (the film was produced on a budget of ฿100,000,000, which translates to a rather less impressive £2 million to us folks here in the UK), along with a well-trodden, predictable narrative that will be instantly familiar to fans of the genre.

Thai-based Japanese actor Seigi Ozeki (The Odd Couple) leads the cast as the eponymous Yamada, a samurai based in the Ayutthaya province of Siam. After discovering a plot to kill the king instigated by his own people, Yamada is attacked by a group of ninjas and left critically injured. Rescued by a band of fabulously-moustachioed Thai warriors (including veteran kickboxer Buakhao Paw Pramuk), Yamada is taken to a remote village where he is nursed back to health and soon gains an appreciation of the ancient fighting art of Muay Boran. Merging this no-nonsense technique with his own traditional Japanese martial arts, Yamada eventually earns the respect of the Thai warriors and rises through the ranks to become bodyguard to the King Naresuan the Great (Winai Kraibutr) – a role that ultimately leads to a final showdown with his former allies.

Despite the story being overly familiar, the majority of viewers will be watching this to get their action fix and in this regard, Yamada is fairly successful. At times, the cinematography is a little amateurish and the low budget also means we’re treated to an abundance of wonky computer-generated blood effects, but in general the fight scenes are well-choreographed and fairly entertaining. Naturally they don’t quite reach the heights of the aforementioned Ong-bak, but there’s still some impressive action on display, with a good mix of hand-to-hand combat and brutal swordplay. Apart from the CG blood, the only real complaint I have in this department is the over-reliance on slow-motion, which isn’t too much of a problem during the fight scenes, although it does become a little frustrating when it extends to simple actions such as a character taking a bow or turning their head.

Overall, Yamada: Way of the Samurai is a distinctly average entry in the martial arts genre, but if you’re a fan of Muay Thai and easily entertained then you’ll probably want to check it out, particularly for a standout performance from Thanawut Ketsaro’s moustache, which is without a doubt one of the finest I’ve ever seen in Asian cinema.

Gary Collinson

Thoughts on... The Long Riders (1980)

The Long Riders, 1980.

Directed by Walter Hill.
Starring James Keach, Stacy Keach, David Carradine, Keith Carradine, Robert Carradine, Randy Quaid, Dennis Quaid, Christopher Guest, Nicholas Guest, James Remar and Savannah Smith Boucher.


SYNOPSIS:

The story of the legendary bank raids of the James-Younger Gang.


Last year saw the end of Bin Laden and Gaddafi, and a curious morbidity in certain circles made bloodthirsty calls for pictures of the corpses, the likes of which haven’t been seen since the days of the old West. Back when photographs of bullet-ridden cadavers sold for the price of a keepsake locket, there was one man the collectors wanted to see dead more than any other. Schooled by Quantrill’s Raiders in the probably-not-that-noble art of bushwhacking, his name, of course, was Jesse James.

For the James-Younger gang, Missouri after the Civil War was a mess of unsettled old scores. Knocking off Union-owned banks, trains and stagecoaches, their crime spree certainly started as a way of getting back at the government, but there are only so many “permanent loans” you can take from the Rock Island Line before people get wise to your tricks and start putting timelocks on their safes.

Right. No more history cliffnotes. On with the gunslinging and the heart-wringing. That, more than anything, is what The Long Riders concerns itself with. Director Walter Hill certainly points out the historical landmarks, but we quickly sail past, headed for solid storytelling and gripping set pieces instead. His visual style, at least in the shootouts (sooo many shootouts), owes more than a little to Sam Peckinpah. Hill goes as far as he can for as long as he dares to make us feel every bullet rip through every man in the climactic Northfield Bank sequence. History tells us they had it coming all along; Hill makes us wish it didn’t have to be like this.

The Long Riders does hold together on its own merits, if only because we believe that these men are brothers. For a film chiefly about notorious, troubled families, Hill made the obvious, if somewhat ambitious decision to cast four sets of brothers as four sets of brothers. We get the Keachs, the Carradines, the Quaids and the Guests, probably the biggest collection of acting brothers in one film since Duck Soup. The simple fact that various groups of men look like each other is our way into the film.

By sheer virtue of the men it chooses to tell a story about, The Long Riders earns itself considerable familiarity with us. After the briefest of title sequences set to Ry Cooder’s rootsy, award-winning bluegrass score, we jump straight into the middle of a bank robbery with the gang. We know them, the locals know them, and, in their way, they respect them. After a century and a half of outlaw ballads, dime-store novels and Hollywood westerns bearing his name, Jesse James and his gang have become the men who need no introduction.

This film, like so many other westerns of the eighties, has been allowed to slip under the radar for too long. It was a genre going out of fashion at the time, with only the odd flash of brilliance like Clint Eastwood’s Pale Rider to remind everyone just how cool gunslingers could be. Any western fan who rates The Wild Bunch or The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford would do well to take advantage of this tantalising glimpse into the past lives of America’s most wanted men, played by one of the most fascinating cast ensembles you’ll ever see in Stetsons.

James Keach doesn’t play up to the usual cool and collected persona, showing up more of Jesse James’ violent temper and hypocritical tendencies than any hints of heroism. Then there’s David Carradine as Cole Younger, the cunning, blunt-mannered desperado. He’s coming to terms with his strange attachment to a prostitute with ambition (a supremely feisty Pamela Reed), which involves quite a lot of gambling and knife fights. Stacy Keach and his scene-stealing moustache comprise Frank James, a man fighting against his restless nature and a nagging feeling that he should have outgrown this lifestyle a long time ago.

It’s all compelling stuff, played with finesse and subtlety, but the sparse, episodic structure of The Long Riders feels more like a network TV series reaching the end of its run than a feature film. There’s a handful of stories here that might have panned out beautifully, if they hadn’t been boxed into a 100 minutes of screen time. Spread out over a six part series, who knows, it might’ve been bigger. Or maybe Jesse James was big enough when he was still alive, and no film is long enough or ambitious enough to hold him. Then again, the same could be said about Stacy Keach’s moustache. Spinoff series? Spinoff series.

Simon Moore is a budding screenwriter, passionate about films both current and classic. He has a strong comedy leaning with an inexplicable affection for 80s montages and movies that you can’t quite work out on the first viewing.

DVD Review - Cash (2008)

Cash (a.k.a. Ca$h), 2008.

Directed by Éric Besnard.
Starring Jean Dujardin, Jean Reno and Valeria Golino.


SYNOPSIS:

A master thief attempts to pull off the biggest robbery in history.


The current awards season (2011/12) has been most kind for Jean Durjardin, following his star making performance in The Artist. It’s a wonderful film and a dazzling lead performance. As such, this little known (on these shores anyway) French film from 2008 finally procures itself a DVD release here. Undoubtedly a move to cash in on the critical success of The Artist, this film is an interesting look at the talented star before the big time beckoned.

Durjardin stars as the titular character Cash. He’s a conman and master thief, whose brother was killed on a previous gig. Cash continues scamming where he can. The film is a caper, with twist upon turn. Who’s playing who? Who has the upper hand? It’s all about sleight of hand, misconception, deception and Cash is a master. As the plot motors on, he pits his wits with or against fellow master thief Maxi (Jean Reno) and morally obtuse cop, Julia (Valeria Golino). The film steams through quickly, with sometimes one too many twists and turns to keep up with, but the conclusion is satisfying and the journey entertaining enough.

The cast are very good. If you’ve seen a fair amount of French cinema, you’ll recognise many of the faces. Dujardin leads well. The effortless charisma he displayed in The Artist is clear to see here. It might not be a role with as much depth here, but never the less, he delivers. Jean Reno is reliable as ever. Golino is good, whilst Ciaran Hinds manages to steal his scenes and make his extended cameo memorable.

Technically the film looks good, polished and stylish. The direction from Éric Besnard is vibrant and the editing though sometimes a little too intrusive, adds to the caper element of this. The film feels like a mish-mash of modern film and 60s cinematic style. Bresnard's script is decent enough, though the characterisation is limited in some cases, but probably intentionally as certainly in Reno and Golino’s cases, their characters don’t want to give too much away. Dujardin is allowed to offer us more insight into his characters core, and as lead, it’s what matters. Occasionally the film borders on being too elaborate and a bit far- fetched, but again, it’s not a particularly serious film and it’s never too bothersome. Come the end it sticks together well enough, and certainly manages to keep one step ahead of the audience.

In all this won’t go down as a classic, but it’s a good slice of entertainment. There’s plenty of star power on show and fans, or indeed new found fans, of Dujardin, will find enough here to keep them entertained.

Tom Jolliffe

365 Days, 100 Films #93 - Bobby Fischer Against the World (2011)

Bobby Fischer Against the World, 2011.

Directed by Liz Garbus.


SYNOPSIS:

A documentary about arguably the greatest chess player of the 20th Century.


Bobby Fischer cuts an awkward figure. Even at the chessboard he seems to be in pain, sitting lopsided to the right, his torso sharply angled into the chair and his head supported by an open palm. If Bobby didn’t appear so deadly serious, you could slap a moustache above his top lip and call him Groucho.

The muscles in his face visibly tense as he attempts to smile in television interviews. In one he sweats so profusely that beads spot across his forehead.

But for all his social retardation, you can’t help but admire his passion and the way his mind whirs when observing the black and white pieces in front of him, calculating moves at a rate beyond most human comprehension. But that mind was fragile as well as formidable. And he became engulfed by the larger chess game of the era, one between the United States and the U.S.S.R. – the Cold War.

Bobby Fischer Against the World pays most attention to the period of his career that typified that international tension – the 1972 World Chess Championship against the holder, a Russian, Boris Spassky. The archive footage of the match and various news reports are accompanied with a wide range of talking heads; some big and unnecessary, like Henry Kissinger; some tiny and pivotal, like Bobby’s Icelandic bodyguard, Saemi Palsson, who would later be the subject of another documentary, Me & Bobby Fischer.

They don’t always know exactly where to look. Some stare to the right of the camera, where the interviewer is presumably seated, others glare directly down it. There’s something unnerving about a biographer looking right at you.

Jump cuts are occasionally used during these talking head shots. For a documentary filmed so conventionally, these cuts don’t quite make sense and could have been easily avoided by showing archive footage in their place, or perhaps zooming in on a still, black and white photograph – a technique with which the filmmakers appear to be obsessed.

The structure lazily avoids narrative satisfaction and is split into chapters, all with chess-pun names. Which would all be forgivable, if it weren’t for the title card Photoshop jobs. The font looks like the bastard offspring of Time New Roman and a cheap, italicised comic sans whore, and the background appears to have been sourced from typing ‘chessboard’ into Google, circa 1999.

As Bobby struggles during the 1972 World Chess Championship, the documentary intelligently splinters off to explore the tangent of his wayward mother, hippy activist Regina Fischer. This history was only hinted at previously, and worked within the narrative to ‘flashback’ to Bobby’s unconventional upbringing. It goes some way to explaining why Bobby is like he is. The rest of the documentary, however, orders itself either chronologically or mundanely.

But despite the filmmakers’ best efforts, the story of Bobby Fischer is a remarkable one, and the 1972 World Chess Championship is a historic moment in the game. The old grandmasters talking to the camera can barely withhold their admiration and awe when describing that match’s 6th game. A symphony of placid beauty, one of them eloquently described it as. At its end, even Spassky stood up and applauded. This isn’t shown, as Bobby demanded that the match was played without cameras present, but the way it’s described. Oh boy, it’s like you were there.

“Genius or madman?” is the question Bobby Fischer Against the World proposes throughout. Perhaps you need to be one to fuel the other, and Bobby certainly seemed to embody both throughout his life. But once the 1972 World Championship was over, he rapidly descended into the latter, sacrificing his genius to cult-like religious organisations and paranoid conspiracy theories. A pariah, a Jewish anti-Semite, his old, blotchy face looks like another person’s.

The story of Bobby Fischer and that remarkable match redeems what is otherwise a below-average documentary.

RATING **

Oli Davis

365 Days, 100 Films

Thoughts on... Final Destination 5 (2011)

Final Destination 5, 2011.

Directed by Steven Quale.
Starring Nicholas D'Agosto, Emma Bell, Miles Fisher, Arlen Escarpeta, David Koechner
and Tony Todd.


SYNOPSIS:

A group of co-workers face a race against time to escape Death's sinister agenda after they survive a terrifying suspension bridge collapse.


For the last 11 years we’ve watched people get sliced, decapitated, hung, stabbed, impaled, and blown up, among other things, in the Final Destination series. What else could they possibly do in a 5th movie?

Like the first four movies we get someone who has a vision of a horrible accident about to happen and then rescues his friends, and possibly other, from the situation only to have death hunt them down and try to finish what he started. This time around we have Sam played by Fired Up’s Nicholas D’Agosto. He sees that him and his friends are supposed to die in a horrific bridge collapse, but safely gets a handful of his friends off their bus before it happens. Along for the ride are The Walking Dead’s Emma Bell, Tom Cruise look-a-like Miles Fisher, the Friday the 13th remake’s Arlen Escarpeta, Anchorman’s David Koechner, and a slew of people you’ve probably never seen before. As the movie progresses one by one they start to die in the order they would have in the accident they all avoided. Once they learn that death is out to get them they try to do whatever they can to avoid death once more.

In more ways than not this is exactly like the first four movies. Same set-up, characters you don’t care about, bad acting, death’s pattern is the same, etc. They do try and bring back what made the first two movies in the franchise entertaining and fun but they don’t end up executing it well enough. A lot of the deaths still feel very cartoonish because of the heavy CGI on most of them and the 3D adds nothing to any of the deaths.

They do try to add some small things that differ from the previous movies. For instance, if you kill someone who wasn’t already supposed to die then that would cancel out your death and you’d be off the hook. Also what they do with the ending I thought was very creative. I won’t spoil anything but they do find a nice way to tie in this movie with the first movie. While I did like the ending I did not like the, literally, last two minutes because they go out of their way to do something that is just even more ridiculous than most of the deaths in the movie.

As far as the acting goes your not going to find anyone here who is giving a good performance. All of the kids are mostly hamming it up every second their on camera and David Koechner is clearly there just for the comic relief. We get a pointless character in an agent, played by Courtney B. Vance, who is interested in finding out what is happening to these people that survived the bridge accident. Tony Todd makes a cameo appearance that isn’t much but he at least tries in his very short amount of screen time.

The deaths I found to be pretty weak. They actually started off great with the first death but then turned into great build-ups and then blowing it on the actual death. Most of the deaths don’t look too good either because they are all CG and it just makes them look too unreal. Had they at least maybe tried to use some practical effects I think the deaths would have had more impact that just looking like a cartoon.

All in all this movie does have some entertaining moments and the ending, except for the final two minutes, is done really well. It’s not as good as the first two movies in the franchise but it definitely beats part three, and is leagues better than part four.

Jake Peffer

Movie Review - Megan is Missing (2011)

Megan is Missing, 2011.

Directed by Michael Goi.
Starring Amber Perkins, Rachel Quinn and Dean White.


SYNOPSIS:

Megan is an outgoing, confident 14-year-old whilst her best friend, Amy, 13, is not so self-assured. Megan meets a boy online, Josh, and agrees to meet him. Next thing Amy knows, Megan is gone. In pursuit of finding her best friend, Amy tells the police about Josh – but then Amy goes missing too…


Megan is Missing has caused some controversy since its release, banned in New Zealand for ‘glorifying young sexuality’. Elsewhere, mothers are taking away their children’s computers, outright banning them from spending time on the Internet.

The debate about protecting children from the Web is pretty controversial in itself. We have come to rely on technology and connecting to the Internet for all manner of reasons, be them completely innocent, like checking a fact for homework, or something a lot more sinister like ‘Josh’ has in mind. However, whatever anyone’s views on letting their children access the world wide web, Megan is Missing is a shocking story to make you think.

We follow the 14 year old Megan, not particularly a likeable character – but we see she does have a nicer side which she hides to avoid tarnishing her popularity with the ‘cool kids’ who drink, smoke drugs and have a good time. Megan is introduced to Josh, a faceless online ‘friend’ who claims his webcam is busted by his brother, and then chewed by his dog. You’d be sceptical right? Ok, well set your mind back to your early teens and tell me you wouldn’t just carry on chatting to kill the time. It’s a worrying thing, many of us may have chatted to any sort of person when we went through that phase of chatting to people online – and if you think I’m being unrealistic, just look at the popularity of Chat Roulette and other such forums.

Anyway, Megan agrees to meet with Josh – he seems shy, after seeing her at a party and being too nervous to say hello. The two arrange to meet behind a diner – and that’s the last Amy hears from her best friend. Anxious to find out the truth, she chats to Josh who very quickly turns aggressive, and before long is tailing Amy to teach her a lesson for blabbing to the police.

Megan is Missing works to a pretty strong degree in telling us that chatting to strangers is definitely not safe online. It may seem harmless, but meeting up with them is also not a particularly wise move. No one would like to think they are naïve enough to agree to meet someone they’ve spoken to online, but the sad truth is that it happens all the time. Megan’s character may seem a little emphasised and quite unlike anyone you know – but Megan’s do exist, and even those less confident, and less damaged by their past, are still willing to agree to meet with seemingly harmless online friends, who could be as perverted as the predator in this film.

Preaching aside, the film takes an interesting stance on technology. Acting as a compilation of mobile phone video footage (a la IPhones Facetime), alongside news reports and video camera footage, Megan is Missing creates a documentary that takes you to pretty dark places. It’s mostly well-thought out and put together, but a minor gripe I have with this film is its dealings with news reports. I have a limited idea on how US news reports are put together – they do tend to use more visual elements like graphics and cheesy transition effects, but the use of them in the film looks more like parody as opposed to replication, which doesn’t really sit well alongside the sinister subject matter.

The acting in the film is great, Amber Perkins as Amy Herman is a particular highlight. Although some scenes seem to linger a little too long and not seemingly with the intention to discomfort, generally the story plays out effectively. The marketing of Megan is Missing is quite interesting too, as it claims to be a fictional drama ‘based on real events’ – whether this is an amalgamation of cases of child abduction, or replicates a particular case, I am unsure.

Get hold of this DVD and watch for a thought-provoking look at the web, and check out the extras for a shocking statement from Marc Klaas, the owner of Klaas Kids, a foundation which aids parents with missing children – as he himself had a young daughter abducted, raped and killed.

Cat Fyson

Second Opinion - Carnage (2011)

Carnage, 2011.

Directed by Roman Polanski.
Starring Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz and John C. Reilly.


SYNOPSIS:

Two sets of parents meet to discuss the matter of one child assaulting another. Things steadily go from bad to worse.


Everything about Carnage is quite simple, both the plusses and minuses. I know it’s early in the game to say this, but Carnage might be one of my favourites of the year. Now I know that’s also starting off on a high note, so I’ll be sure to bring it all back down by the end, but first the good aspects.

Taking a look at the film’s synopsis, you might get a bit bored. There isn’t really much more in terms of spoilers than can be discovered by watching the trailer or reading a review. The idea ‘four people talk about their children and by the way they don’t ever leave the home for the entire film, no really, not even to talk to the neighbours’ might sound boring but the time does, to form a cliché, just fly by. I’m sure the short eighty minute runtime helps, but there wasn’t ever a point of my mind wandering or wondering if the story was ever going to end.

The film’s simplicity and short time does have its downfalls. The characters aren’t ever shown under a bright spotlight in terms of their background, apart from one character’s mother calling. The lack of outside influence (the nearest anyone gets to leaving is pressing the button for the lift) and any other prominent characters makes the film feel like a theatre production. This is neither a positive or a negative; it just shows that the movie doesn’t completely abandon the feeling and ideas from the play Le Dieu du Carnage, which Yasmina Reza also wrote.

This other mark of simplicity would fall flat on its backside if the performances and script weren’t up to scratch. Nothing is ever used to wake the audience up, no cheap tricks used to keep the audience’s attention. And that’s what I enjoyed most about the film. The script isn’t laugh a minute (it defines the word ‘dramedy’), but what comedy there is is fantastic. Each character brings along their own worldview and baggage to create tension.

Each cast member gives a great performance. And, I think importantly, no one actor or character is overshadowed by another. You understand one point of view, even if an absolute bastard is bringing it across. Speaking of, contrary to what I just said, I think a little special praise has to go to John C. Reilly.

Despite never fulfilling my wish of saying the words ‘For your health!’ (Internet trawlers will be aware of this other fine, nuanced Reilly performance), the character journey of Michael Longstreet is probably the most fun. Reilly seems to revel in the part, enjoying starting off as a sheep that attempts to make everyone happy, eventually devolving into a booze swilling, cigar smoking git. But that’s just personal preference. Christoph Waltz looks, at times, like he could quite easily kill someone with his bare hands. Kate Winslet throws up everywhere. And Jodie Foster breaks down over art books and aftershave. There’s something for everyone!

Each character’s ups and downs just show that, as said by the characters in the film, that everybody lies. Not to be all Gregory House about it, but the journey of Michael is the prime example. As one thread is discovered, everything starts to unravel for the characters. Because of the lack of time with the characters, you don’t feel as emotionally involved. But this probably helps as you laugh with and at everyone.

The fact that there is only surface shown throughout the film, despite the revelations of each character, means that there isn’t a deep life lesson or moral to be taken from this movie. Which is a great thing. The film doesn’t try to teach you anything; it just shows these four people as they are. The obvious message is that parents are as bad, sometimes worse, than their kids. The final shot displays this easily enough without any of the characters expressing it outright. But as hinted earlier, it’s the typical message you could have gotten just by reading the synopsis or watching the trailer.

The enjoyment comes from seeing these four people break down. Nothing truly horrible happens. Nothing extreme happens. Carnage just shows people suffering from everyday problems. A spouse who spends a little too much time on the phone instead of raising their child. A spouse who tries to make everyone feel better and doesn’t actually stand up for anyone. Typical problems we may all come across. Carnage might actually be a great movie to watch, a simple story, before the leotard wearing super beings of the summer blockbusters come along and make everything explode.

Matt Smith

365 Days, 100 Films #92 - The Unforgiven (1960)

The Unforgiven, 1960.

Directed by John Huston.
Starring Burt Lancaster, Audrey Hepburn, Audie Murphy, Doug McClure, John Saxon, Charles Bickford and Lillian Gish.


SYNOPSIS:

A strange old man and a local tribe of Indians start to bother the Zacharys. They claim the Zacharys have something of theirs – a baby girl snatched from them many years ago.


The grave of William Zachary sits in the family’s front yard – a small mound of soil with a modest, wooden cross at its top. At first it appears as a sign of pride, the family’s tribute to their father, a man slain by an Indian arrow. However, as their history unravels before the townsfolk and assorted cowboys, the cross becomes a constant reminder of the mess with which he left them, and the lurking presence of death.

It isn’t the only reminder of death. An old man (Joseph Wiseman) with a sabre has been frequently sighted near the Zacharys’ home, his tall hat casting a disquieting silhouette amongst the reeds. His face is difficult to make out, obscured either by the piercing sun or a wild dust storm. Everyone can hear his God-fearing voice, though. He claims to be an agent of the Lord. He isn’t a man who will simply fade away and die, Ben Zachary (Burt Lancaster) remarks to his brother. He’s the kinda man who needs to be killed.

Ben, as the eldest brother, has positioned himself as the head of the Zachary household. There’s also his mother, Mattilda (Lillian Gish), younger brothers, Cash (Audie Murphy) and Andy (Doug McClure), and adopted sister, Rachel Zachary (Audrey Hepburn). They’re a relatively wealthy, much liked and respected family amongst their Ol’ West community. Until that old man comes claiming Rachel has Indian blood coursing through her veins.

The characters’ prejudice against Indians is fierce in a way similar to Ethan Edwards in The Searchers. Ben and the rest of his men are openly racist towards Johnny Portugal (John Saxon), their best horse tamer, but an Indian all the same. Cash is the most aggressive. He has harboured a grudge since an Indian murdered his father.

The old man’s claims are damaging to the Zacharys’ reputation, and a local tribe have taken interest in Rachel. She might be the long lost sister of one of their men. All this makes the cowboys anxious. They’ve a lot of money tied up in these here cattle, and they don’t want no Indian raiders jeopardising their investments.

In the film’s finest scene, the Zacharys and their men capture the old man. He’s revealed as Abe Kelsey, an old friend of their father who has since gone crazy. He’s brought into their outback court at night, illuminated by torch fire. It’s the first chance you get to really study the man’s face. He’s covered in dust, making the lines in his face look considerably deeper, and one eye appears to be entirely black. With a noose around his neck, he explains his delusional crusade against the Zacherys, his version of the truth skewered by grief, revenge and hate. He speaks with the same fluency and flow of Michael Parks’ preacher in Red State.

John Huston, the film’s director, originally intended The Unforgiven to make a statement about racism in America. He constantly fought the film’s financers, who demanded a less controversial movie. The result is neither a commercial film, nor one that completely tackles racism. Huston would later recall that it’s the only one of his films that he dislikes.

But although the film doesn’t make a statement about racism, the subject still haunts every frame. Rather than propose a socio-political message, racism is made part of the characters and their relationships. Sometimes this is in a purely hateful way, as in Cash. But others are far more complex. Ben flickers between camaraderie and conflict with Portugal, whereas the bond between Rachel and the Indian claiming to be her brother is tragic. Racism is never glorified, but it is portrayed. Doing it that way rings more true to the era.

When the film ends, none of the characters come across as heroic, much like their counterparts a few years later in the Spaghetti Westerns. Instead they look up at the sky, alone in the cold, hard West.

RATING ****

Oli Davis

365 Days, 100 Films