Movie review: Husk (2011)

Scarecrows are scary - fact.  That's why they use them to scare crows away from crops and other stuff.  So a horror film based on one is a good idea, isn't it?  Well, yes, by and large.  It isn't a new idea, scary scarecrows that is, so it's down to the telling to give us a fresh spin on the yarn.

Join the harvest - ah, I get it now.

Six dumb teenagers crash their vehicle in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cornfields.  When they awake from their post-crash concussion, one of their number is missing and the inevitable search within the indomitable fields of sky-high corn leads them to a scary stalking scarecrow.  Borrowing elements from a number of movies such as Blair Witch (eery deserted and scary house), Children of the Corn (big scary cornfields), Jeepers Creepers (invincible killer with scary mask) and a few others, Husk ticks every box.  Stupid American teenagers making lots of bad choices and illogical decisions? Check.  Lots of opportunities for jumpy scares? Check.  Enigmatic, scary serial killer? Check.  Stupid aliens landing in cornfields? Erm, no, we'll leave that to Signs eh?

At only 79 minutes long, we're not going to get an in-depth character study or Byzantine plot developments but what there is in such a short space of time is pretty good.  The back story is told through (conveniently-placed) expositional flashbacks along with some pretty big assumptions made by the mainly dumb cast of unknowns.  It just about clunks its way through the plot.

The setting works well as the cornfield provides a good foil for things to jump out of.  The claustrophobic elements are effective and the sense of danger lurking in every corner is palpable.  It didn't need to take place at night however as the cornfields are foreboding enough without having to add another layer of darkness.

We're not too bothered about the characters, with most of them being entirely unsympathetic.  The obligatory nerdy-type is perhaps the one most people would lend an sympathetic ear to but even then, his stupidity knows no bounds.  On a limited budget, you'd expect limited acting skills but here, the 'stars' do shine in their own way and play to the parts well.  The story is plot-lite, it has to be said.  In 79 minutes, it couldn't be anything else and like Father Dougals sweater, it would be so (very) easy to pick gaping large holes.  But we won't except to say, 'Stay in the goddam house until daybreak'.

We did like this film and any piece of 'horrific' entertainment such as this that can elicit gasps of surprise is on the right track.  With its 18-rating, we were expecting much more gore and scares though and we thought the finished article was no more than a 15.  There was minimal swearing (bollocks), no nudity (boo) and the gore was mainly left to the imagination.  Where 18 came from we'll never know.  It WAS very jumpy though but the ending was 'meh'.

Overall: 6/10.  You won't feel you've lost 79 minutes of your time if you watch it.

Movie review: Sanctum (2011)

James Cameron sure does like his water-based movies, lending his name as producer here to 2011's Sanctum.  While the Abyss is a (ho ho) water-mark for the genre and rightly billed as a classic, Titanic was over-flowing with sacchrine and has not aged particularly well.

Sanctum is much more low-key than either of those two earlier efforts (let's face it, *anything* is lower-key than Titanic) and while director Alister Grierson tries to make a decent fist of it, he can't overcome the clumsy plot, cardboard cut-out characters and lack of plausibility.

This looks more alien than it actually is.  There are no aliens in this film. Pity.

Some cave-divers get trapped in a big cave and they try to get out.  That's essentially the plot in a nutshell.  The fun is in trying to guess who's going to get boffed off next and in what particularly gruesome fashion.  Saying that, there's little gore and the films suspense comes from the claustrophobia from operating in such confined spaces.

A big plus is the cinematography which is quite wonderful and the views of the caves are majestic.  I don't care if they're CGI or not, they look fabulous and I only wish I were brave enough to see them.

Just swimming along, minding my own business ...

It all starts to fall down when we get to the plotting and characterization, both of which are over-shadowed by, and cannot hope to compete with, the cinematic vision.  Insanely stupid billionaire explorer?  Check.  Gruff, no-nonsense cave guide?  Check.  At logger-heads with his delinquent son?  Check.  Amiable side-kick who we all know is going to die at some point?  Check, it's all there.  Plotting is pushed forward by some stupidly obviously expositional beats.  Yes, yes, you're in a cave, it's dark and we all know that previously useless shark tooth torch necklace (yes, really) is going to make an appearance at *some* point.  "I'm not wearing a wet suit to keep me warm", declares the only female character, minutes before her shivering hands play a major part in the plot.

Whoops-a-daisy

Ham-fisted doesn't even begin to describe it.

As seems to be the case nowadays, the 3D has forced everything else onto the back-seat.  I can't wait for a non-3D film and we might start to enjoy some real plot and characters.  Avatar, as good as it was, was effectively an amazing-looking cartoon set against an incredibly lightweight plot.  Sanctum is no different but with much less CGI and much less believable characters.

Ah, perhaps I'm missing the point as it did extremely well at the box office and more than recouped its production cost.  On the big screen it would work much better and I could perhaps be more forgiving but not so good on the small black and white portable we have at home.  Those large holes they are diving into are a metaphorical symbol of the script they've had to work with.  Combine your viewing with some kind of drinking game based on who's going to die next, it'll be much more fun, I promise.

Rating 4/10

Movie review: Faster (2010)

A man is released from prison and sets out to gain revenge on the gang that murdered his brother ten years previously in a botched bank job.

Dwayne Johnson is a rare beast having made a successful transition from wrestling ring to bona fide action A-lister.  With his 'The Rock' persona, he was genuinely charismatic in the WWE ring and a firm fan favourite whether playing a heel or 'face.  As an actor, he would be the first to admit he's never going to be giving RDN or Pacino a run for their money but he is what he is - a big hulking testosterone-y mans man that can kick derriere and take names.  While not afraid to show his comedic side, including a fabulous self-parody in 'The Other Guys' starring Will Ferrell, his action credentials are undoubted even if his acting ones are lacking.  Luckily, here, he doesn't have to do much and that fits in with his character quite nicely.

With Faster, belief suspension is imperative.  Don't go in expecting a discourse on existential theory by 19th century Danish philosophers (Kierkegard was a hoot, apparently), rather if you take it as a brainless thriller, you'll be much more entertained.  A good value Billy Bob Thornton crops up in a role as a damaged detective assigned to the case as the body count racks up while Johnson despatches bad guys with ease.  Maggie Grace provides a bit of eye-candy (and nothing more) while Brit Oliver Jackson-Cohen, ex-Hollyoaks alumni, crops up as a bored millionaire-cum-assassin.  He's far too pretty and suave.  The plot, despite a few twist and turns, is largely predictable but never plodding and the pacing is just about right.

It's easy to pick holes in a film like Faster but, do you know what, I feel that's being too harsh as the film hasn't been well received by critics already.  The characters are drawn with very broad strokes and while we get a little back-story, there's not enough to make them more than 2-dimensional.  It could have been better, sure, but there's place in this world for movies of this ilk.  They are pure candy floss, providing an instant hit of sugary confection but disappearing soon afterwards.  I don't mind that at all.  It's worth a punt if you have a few beers spare, a take-out pizza on order and a large comfy sofa to sink into.  Just leave your brain at the door and you'll be fine.

My rating: 6/10.  A 4/10 if I think too much about it.

Movie Review: The Grey (2012)

Liam Neeson is a sniper hired by an oil-drilling company in the Arctic wilderness to literally keep the wolves at bay.  On a flight back to civilization, the plane carrying a load of hardened rig-workers crashes into the frozen tundra.  Neeson, along with the survivors, find themselves being hunted by a vicious pack of wolves, wanting to turn them into meatball sandwiches at the earliest opportunity.

And that's the story in a nutshell.  Of course, it's more than that as over time the characters are fleshed out (figuratively and literally) and the story progresses into a survivalist trek through stunning, Arctic scenery beset by breathtaking Winter storms.  Neeson, as ever, is good value and he's to be credited for attempting what looked like an arduous shoot at nearly 60 years of age.  Then again, his CV, particularly after his Oscar-nodded turn in Schindler's List, has been a melange of action-adventurers including the highly successful and hugely entertaining 'Taken' (2008).  He's certainly defined himself as an action star despite his advancing years.

The Grey promises much and mainly delivers.  Thrills and shocks are provided by the wolves as their pack-hunting instincts and innate intelligence allow them to pick off the luckless survivors one by one.  One memorable scene finds the protagonists shining their flame torches out into the darkness and seeing reflected back numerous malevolently hungry eyes.  Gulp.  The supporting characters are given enough time to grow and while they tend to fall into stereotypical cliches, there's enough back story to each so we care when they're inevitably bumped off.

It comes across as the bastard child of a sub-zeroed Jaws (1975) 'twixt Southern Comfort (1980), which is no bad comparison as both of those films are superlative in the genre.  I could name any number of other films where the boundaries cross but that's doing The Grey an injustice.  It's genuinely tense, has action in spades and leaves a lasting impression.  The cast do well but it's Neesons film and he's quite superb.  Saying that, even he plays second fiddle to some incredible cinematography.  The Arctic wilderness has never looked so harsh, foreboding or beautiful.

On a side note, the CGI for the wolves is quite atrocious in places.  Being shot in genuine minus-40 weather, they didn't scrimp on the location so why on the animal training?  Doesn't make sense.  It's not enough to detract a whole point from my final score.  Perhaps they blew the CGI budget on the frightfully realistic plane crash?  That was well scary.

Overall, it's a decent enough film with realistic characters, well-placed story beats and plenty of blood-covered snow to keep the gorists happy.  It's a shame the wolf effects were so naff and I sincerely hope it doesn't do for these wonderful, majestic animals what Jaws did for sharks.  Oh, and wait until ALL the credits have rolled or you'll miss a bit (like we did).

Rated 15.  Running time 117 minutes.

My rating: 7/10

Movie review: Sleuth (2007)

Synopsis

Andrew Wyke is an ageing but successful writer of trashy detective novels whose younger wife has left, shacking up with Milo Tindle, an even younger, handsome actor.  Tindle visits Wyke in attempt to persuade the older man to divorce his errant wife.   Wyke, seemingly in a fit of altruism, suggests a staged robbery of his wifes expensive jewellery.  Milo can keep the jewels and he can claim on the insurance.  Everyone's a winner.  Milo reluctantly agrees and sets in motion a chain of events as the two protagonists indulge in a psychological and dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Opinion

Sleuth (2007) is actually a re-make of an earlier film from 1972 which _in itself_ was a movie version of an award-winning play written by Anthony Shaffer.  In the 1972 screen version Michael Caine plays Milo, the Jude Law character and it's interesting to see him play the 'other' role of Wyke.  This 2007 version sees the screenplay written by the late great Harold Pinter and based more on the original Shaffer play than the film re-make.  This was to be Pinters last screenplay he wrote before sadly succumbing to cancer in 2008.  Direction is provided by famous actor / lovie Kenneth Branagh.

The plot *is* very Pinteresque with many of the literary signatures that that monicker implies.  Two warring parties, attempting to gain an upper hand, physically and mentally abusing one another, a struggle for territorial dominance.  Pinter and Brannagh have brought it up to date with the inclusion of new technology as plot mechanisms.  For instance, Wyke's obsession with cameras and gadgets replaces those giant mechanical toys in the original.  In fact, to call it a remake is doing the film a disservice as it's almost a complete re-imagining of the story. 

Caine and Law play their respective parts to perfection.  Caine is, well, Michael Caine and a cinematic legend (The Swarm aside).  Thanks to the razor-sharp Pinter dialogue (it should be trademarked), the two characters positively fizz off one another, verbally jousting with arid wit, ferocious put-downs and rapacious anger.  They duck and dive and circle warily, literally and figuratively, jabbing and prodding with capricious banter before launching into full-scale attacks.  Only seconds after they meet and after Milo has parked his small hatchback next to Andrews executive motor, Andrew makes a comment about the size of Milo's car.  "Oh, you've got a small car," he says. "It's not the big one," replies Tindle.  "No, the big one's mine," smirks Wyke.  Ouch.

And they continue.  Wyke constantly refers to Tindle as a hairdresser (he was a hairdresser in the 1972 film) and is constantly being corrected (he's now an actor).  This passing nod being a neat touch while demonstrating Andrews wit and candour.  Milo tells Wyke that he hasn't read of any his books, obviously an insult to a successful author.  Wykes response and in answer to Milo's Italian ancestry is, "They're a funny lot the Italians, Culture isn't really their thing."

It's a very claustrophobic film, with virtually all of the film shot inside the stately house that Wyke inhabits.  Glimpses of the outside are via the security cameras that Wyke has obsessively placed in every conceivable direction.  The house in the 2007 version is in contrast to the kitsch nouveau-rich decoration of that previous, being minimalistic and stark and gadget-laden.  A lift, a focal point of the plot, dominates the set and even this contributes to the claustrophobic air.  Kenneth Brannagh states in an interview the claustrophobia was intentional and he believed the viewer would find fascination in the power of the writing and the performance of the actors.

Polling my wife of her opinion, she described the film as 'absolutely brilliant'.  She thought the actors were superb and the unpredictable nature of the story and plot meant she was gripped.  It was a little hard to get into, she said, but it didn't take long for her to grasp the concept.  She also described it as a 'film lovers film' particularly for those who like something a little different, a little out of the ordinary and I wholeheartedly agree.

With such a small cast (only 4 actors are billed, Pinter being one in his last screen role) and limited set, it's down to the writing, direction and character performances to carry the film.  In that regard, it doesn't disappoint.  Every nuance and exclamation mark of the script is carried off with aplomb by Law and Caine and they provide tour de force performances worthy of the writing. 

Conclusion

Overall, Sleuth (2007) is an exceptional film.  It's fascinating and interesting, has a wickedly unpredictable plot, is written with zeal and vigour and the acting is first-class.  A worthy addition to Caine and Law's curriculum vitae and a fitting tribute to the wonderful Harold Pinter whose work will be missed greatly.

You will like this movie if you like well-written, character-led dramas that are a little different.
You won't like this movie if you think Transformers is too wordy.

Running time: 86 minutes.
Certificate: 15 for strong language
Directed by Kenneth Brannagh

Movie review: Paintball (2009)

If you can be sure of one thing in the world of movies, it's to never ever sign up for a team-building exercise that promises 'ultra-realism'.  This will nearly always involves travelling to some remote village or far-off forest and being hunted by a bunch of rich psycho's in ski-masks who carry high-powered weaponry.  Ice T did it in _Surviving the Game_, loads of pretty American teenagers did it in _Hostel_ (and the even more risible _Hostel 2_) and Liam Neeson rescued his daughter from it in _Taken_.  Let's face it, if you're a bored billionaire, what's the first thing you're going to do?  Hunt people, that's what.  Don't laugh, I've heard Branson's interested. 

So it is with Paintball.  After falling for the worst advertising campaign ever, fronted by the dodgiest bloke this side of a Middle Eastern dictator, a bunch of Euro-teens head to the forest to do some battle with pretend guns and balls of Dulux.  What they don't know is they're being set up and it's not long before those pellets of paint are being swapped for real bullets where they are picked off one by one for the sadistic amusement of person or persons unknown.

It's not a particularly original story it has to be said.  The films mentioned above are just ones of the top of my head.  I can also think of _Southern Comfort_ (1981) and even the amazing _Deliverance_ (1973?) that follow similar lines.  I'm sure there are others so I suppose the question is whether Paintball brings anything new to the party.

Opinion

Shot for the majority on a hand-held camera, the viewer is virtually invited to take part in these 'war-games' along with the rest of the crew and while this provides a gritty feel to the film, for some, this could be very off-putting.  It's like a cross between Cloverfield, Deliverance and erm, Saw (except there are no huge alien monsters, banjo-playing slack-jawed yokels or frightening clown dolls).  The camera operator is never acknowledged by actors and this ignorance makes it appear forced.  If it had been another player in the 'game', such as the camera operator in Cloverfield, it would have added an extra dose of realism.

There have obviously been budget limitations imposed on director Daniel Benmayor's first feature but fair play to him for making a fist of what he had to play with.  Not least, the cast of relative unknowns he's been given to knock off in imaginative ways.  The only one I could vaguely recognise was Brendan Mackay, a bit-part stalwart of the small screen here in Blighty.  The other token Brit, Neil Maskell who's actually been in 'proper' films, was given one of the most annoying parts I've seen in any film ever, and that includes Grease 2.  We actually cheered when he was bumped off (oh come on, it's hardly a revelation is it?).  The characters all get a bit too hysterical for my liking.  Whenever I've been hunted by homicidal killers, and that happens more than I care for, I've always been as calm as a monk in a brothel. 

The plot offers very few surprises save for a couple of unexpected twists but even these are revealed far too early in the story.  "Oh, so *that's* what it's all about?" was the thought going through our heads.  Once the reveal had been, ahem, revealed, the rest of the film was simply a guessing game of who was going next and in what particularly gruesome fashion.  Really, that and a gruesome fascination into the next method of dispatch were the only things piquing our interest.  Even then, the killers seemed to get bored of boffing the 'ballers and imagination ran out long before the end of the film.

The gore was kept to a minimum and most, if not all, of the squirmy squishy bits are filmed from the viewpoint of the killer who happens to be wearing night-vision goggles.  This means the blood is in black and white and probably a reason for its 15 rating as opposed to an 18.  It guarantees a bigger audience but ends up putting the film into a sort of halfway house between Predator-style thriller and Saw-like horror.  Neither work entirely well and I feel a whole-hearted attempt at one or the other would have produced a more convincing result.  It's fair to say, the night-vision goggles gimmick was over-worked.

Conclusion

I don't mind suspending belief when watching films but surely the protagonists knew what they were getting into?  They were driven to the forest while masked and chained to the floor of a lorry.  Oh come on, evil Herod's chapstick, the last time I went paintballing, we were given free bacon sandwiches.  There was none of that, no pies, chocolate bars or anything and alarm bells would have been ringing louder than a nun finding out how much the washing machine vibrates.  But no, they took it as 'normal' and just thought it was a laugh.  No food?  Yeah, a right laugh that.  Saying all that, I can't help feeling they got their just desserts (ooh, dessert) by falling for that ridiculously stupid TV advert.

It's not a truly awful film and at least we watched all the way through.  It wasn't scary nor particularly thrilling but fun in a perverse, voyeuristic way.  If watching, combine it with a party drinking game to see who's getting killed next and who will survive.  Don't neck your vodka shots every time one of them screams in an unconvincing manner though, you'll end up in casualty.

You'll like this if ... you're mad on paint-balling.
You won't like this if ... you're mad on ball-painting.

Movie review: Repo Menu (2010)

Warning: This review contains minor plot spoilers.

Synopsis

When you can't pay the bills for your artificial internal organ, a Repo Man will come and remove it for you to settle the debt.  You don't have a choice.  90 days and your time is up. 

Opinion

The story, while not quite original, does give a neat spin on the usual bleak dystopian future movie.  It's not *too* far in the future either (it never says) and people don't wear silver jump suits or glass-covered bubble helmets all the time.  There's a grounding in reality and the idea of a company profiting from the misery and misfortune of others is unfortunately a massively topical issue in the American health-care system.  Tales of injured and sick people being wheeled *out* of hospitals because they don't have the insurance are not unheard of so it's not too much of a leap to see this profit-led health-care company demanding payment for artificial organs and such-like. 

Whether legalized murder will be sanctioned by the state to settle such debts is another matter however, as that is inevitably what happens to an unfortunate non-payer.  A quick knock-out dart, snippety-snip and that new kidney which keeps you alive is heading back to the company for refurbishment.  You meanwhile, are left to fend for yourself in the street / elevator / bed.  So, death then.

Jude Law seems to be one of those actors who splits opinion.  His less than salubrious personal lifestyle seems to overshadow his work which is a shame as he tends to 'hit' more than he 'misses'.  I'm no fanboy and for every Road to Perdition there's a Sky Captain.  Playing one of the titular Repo Men here, Remy, he comes across exceptionally well and shock of all shocks, he can do Jason Bourne-style action.

As we follow Remy in his job as the number one Repo Man in the company, we discover his lack of empathy follows through to his home-life as his wife reels away from the man her husband has become.  In effect, a cold-hearted, legalized murderer.  Obviously, not in their wedding vows then?  Laws best friend Jake, played by Forest Whitaker, he of the laziest eye in Hollywood, is equally at home cutting up live-people for their innards.  They grew up together, fought in the 'war' together and ended up working together as partners-in-legal-crime.  They both share the same thick-headedness and unshakeable belief in what they are doing is for the greater good.  Rules are not meant to be broken.  If a customer reneges on a deal, in the same way that a bank will recover the house on a defaulted mortgage, they see the recovery of vital internal organs to be an important part of the commercial society they live in.

At times, they contemplate doing a 'job' on someone they know and both agree they would do it regardless.  This force-feeding of plottage sets up a predictable turn of events.  Jude Law, acting out one more job before moving to a more relaxed job in the sales division, suffers an accident and in a fortuitous move, his heart has to be replaced with a fake one supplied by the very company he works for.  What happens if one of the Repo Men can't afford the heart they have had installed, albeit against their will?  Liev Schreiber playing their boss Frank seems to revel in these smarmy pugnacious roles.

This is where the crux of the movie lies.  How does Jake react to what is essentially the two buddies' worst work scenario?  How does Remy deal with the object inside him that makes him the very thing he didn't want to be?  Indebted, in pain, in trouble.  Becoming ever more desperate, he forges an alliance with a highly-modified singer / drug addict played by Alice Braga, and they struggle to rid themselves of these very personal, hard-to-remove artefacts.

Cinematically, Repo Men tries to evoke at least a small sense of Blade Runner.  Very few films ever come close to that seminal Sci-Fi classic and while Repo Menu tries its hardest, it's hampered by a lack of vision, budget and downright testicular fortitude.  That's no bad thing of course, to come second best to Blade Runner I mean, and this film certainly does a lot better than many of its contemporaries in its artistic direction and scope.  There are plenty of little touches such as the wallpaper in a kids bedroom being essentially a giant TV screen and a dark blend of humour running throughout.  Director Miguel Sapochnik, his first full-length feature incidentally, decided not to take itself *too* seriously and there are some genuine laugh-out-loud moments.

The soundtrack is employed to tremendous use with an enjoyably eclectic mix of modern pop and rap and some golden oldies.  It fits well.

It's not without its bad points.  The murders, and that's what they are, of the people relinquishing their organs is a little too far-fetched.  It's a ham-fisted way to make a point about capitalistic medicine and its ironic lack of regard to human life.  Maybe I'm being naive but surely private enterprise simply couldn't get away with such a blatant disregard?  At least now, these shadowy corporate cabals do it behind a cloak of secrecy so us mere mortals aren't offended by this lack of public accountability.  Maybe things will change in the future?  Probably, but I hope I'm not here to see that particular societal development.

As the film never mentions how far in the future it is set, the sums involved for an artificial organ seem ludicrously high especially with the company making so many dodgy lending decisions to people who obviously haven't the means to pay.  They make todays bankers look positively frugal.  A company couldn't survive by killing its customers without some kind of bad press.  Look at what happened to Gerald Ratner.  We obviously don't get to see the ones who *can* pay (living, as they do, a live of healthy luxury), but 600 grand seems an awful lot to fork out for a kidney (what price health I suppose?).

There is a HUGE twist in the film.  So massive, in fact, it makes you want to watch the film again just to 'see'.  I personally loved it.  My wife hated it and it tainted her view of the  whole film, even though she enjoyed it right up to that point.  That's a personal preference I guess and I have no qualms with that ... 'kind' of thing in a movie.

Interestingly ironic, we decided to watch this film ahead of Robin Hood (2010) as directed by Ridley Scott, he of Blade Runner.  Scott has committed the mortal sign of any Hollywood big player which is that of disappearing up his own arse.  Mind you, Gladiator would do that to you.  Robin Hood is devoid of charm and substance and so far removed from Blade Runner that it's up to these smaller-time directors to carry on that tradition.  Thankfully, Repo Men provides an interesting diversion and one for which I'm glad I saw.

Running time: 111 minutes
Certificate: 18 for themes of gore and hands inserted into living bodies.  Ewww.
IMDB entry: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1053424/
Rated: 6.3.  I'd go for about 7.  I've put 4 stars here but that's a low 4, if you get my drift.

Movie review: Kung Fu Hustle (2004)

Paying homage to Buster Keaton, The Godfather and just about everything in between, Steven Chow's 2004 martial-arts action comedy is a visually stunning, slapstick riot of a movie.  Not since Jackie Chan's Police Story have I been so enamored with a kung fu movie.

Set in 1930's Shanghai at a time when large gangs of roaming thugs ruled the streets, businesses and police officials.  The current big cheeses in this area are the Axe Gang who are as merciless as they are stylishly sharp-suited.  Thanks to wannabe-gangster Sing (played by director and writer Chow) who poses as a member of the Axe Gang and tries to extort money from a terminally poor district of the town known as 'Pig-Sty Alley', this small community of peasants soon become embroiled in a brutal turf war with the axe-wielding maniacs. 

This synopsis is severely underplaying the charm of the film however.  The cinematography and direction are excellent, combining the live-action cartoon style of say, 'The Mask' with action from 'Crouching Tiger'.  It's a combination that works well bringing a much-needed element of fun to a stilted Kung Fu genre (not that Crouching Tiger is stilted, you understand).  The action scenes are well-choreographed with impressive wire-work routines and bone-crunching stunts.

During the film, there are moments straight out of a RoadRunner cartoon.  In one, Sing and the Landlady, played with gusto by Qiu Yuen, go for a madcap run down a road, dust trailing in their wake as their feet go ten to the dozen.  They perform Matrix-style manoeuvres over cars and lorries in their way and it's so surprising you can't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity.  In another scene, Landlady throws her wayward husband out of a third floor window as she finds lipstick on his collar.  As he lands in an unceremonious heap on the floor, he is followed by a plant pot which lands firmly on his head in true comic fashion.  Director Chow must have watched a lot of Tom and Jerry cartoons in his time.

The characters are purposely over the top and clichéd.  The Landlady of Pig Sty Alley is a no-nonsense brash and loud (very loud, as it turns out) woman with cigarette and hair-rollers permanently ensconced.  Her husband is an alcoholic letch complete with leery moustache.  One of the residents of the Alley plays up to every camp gay stereotype possible but it's all done in a very tongue-in-cheek way as if to say, 'We KNOW they're over-the-top because they're supposed to be'.  It's a lampoon, sure, but done in a very affectionate way.

As the plot progresses, the Axe-gang bring in martial arts masters to help defeat the embattled citizens of Pig-Sty Alley and the skills and powers of each one is layered on top of the other.  Based around the teachings of ancient 'schools' such as the School of Twelve Kicks or Palm Fu, the action becomes ever more incredible.  But, and this is testament to Chows direction, you are drawn along with it, thinking 'How on earth could THEY be defeated?'.  'Oh, THAT'S how!'.  In some ways it's akin to a video game as the bosses get harder and harder the further the hero travels along the story.

The story belongs to Sing however as he struggles to fulfill his destiny.  His dream of becoming a Palm Fu Master in tatters (told by a rather disturbing flash-back), he is convinced a life of being a gangster is for him.  The trouble is, underneath all the bluster, bravado and attempted bullying, he's a really nice guy and it's not until the final third do we get to see his true self.

As much as the film lends itself to a cartoon-like style, the violence is quite graphic in places.  The Axe Gang, in the opening sequence, show their propensity for grisly murder as they slay a rival gang with their axes.  Unlike the cartoons where Wile E.Coyote gets up after the umpteenth anvil-falling accident, here, when people are killed they stay killed.  This perhaps accounts for its 15-rating here in the UK (or R in the US).  Paradoxically, at other times, injuries that would lay waste to a mortal-being are treated with comic effect.  Witness when Sing receives multiple knife wounds (through his own incompetence it has to be said) and is then bitten on the mouth by two Cobras at the same time.  One of many laugh out loud moments.

Overall, it's a very engaging and fun film to watch and never takes itself too seriously.  It would be worth it just to see what the final bad guy's superpowers are and how he could possibly be beaten but there's so much more to it than that.  While the stylized violence is not to every ones taste, for fans of the genre looking for something fresh, new and above all fun, they could do much worse than this. 

A high-kicking, palm-fisted, snake-biting 8 out of 10.

Rated: 15
Running time: 95 minutes
Written by: Stephen Chow
Directed by: Stephen Chow
IMDB: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0373074/   (rated 7.8)
Trivia: The names of the superpowers are taken from the novels of Louis Cha.

Movie review: Cemetery Junction (2009)

Ah, 1970's Britain, you've gotta love it.  Bad hair, bad clothes, bad teeth and full of racist, sexist misogynists.  Well, so Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant would have us believe.  Of course, look at any sitcom from that era, and those stereotypes are rigidly enforced.  Love Thy Neighbour, On The Buses, Bless This House are all particularly malignant examples as well as a multitude of others and none of them have stood the test of time (quite rightfully too).

For their first foray into the world of films as producers, writers and directors, Cemetery Junction is a strange departure for the comedy writing duo.  With huge success from The Office followed by a surprisingly deep sleeper hit with Extras, a feature film about small-town life in a depressingly grim era of British history wasn't the first thing to be expected from the duo.

Cemetery Junction is the name of a small town where ambition is as stilted as the atmosphere in the local pub.  Enter the three protagonists, Freddie, Bruce and Snork who at 22 years old find themselves at crossroads in their young lives.  Over the cusp of adulthood, they still long for the childish dalliances that littered their lives up to this moment but are now faced with enormous decisions that are going to change their immature ways forever.  Do they stay in dead-end Cemetery Junction (more than just a random name for a town) or do they break free of the confines they find themselves in and discover what the World has to offer?

Freddie (Christian Cooke) has the most ambition.  A working life in the local machine tooling factory is not for him and breaks free of his fathers mould (his father played unconvincingly by Ricky Gervais) to become the first member of his family to go to work in a suit at the nearby Life Assurance company as a District Agent (read door-to-door salesman).  The Big Boss of the Assurance company, Mr Kendrick played fantastically by Ralph Fiennes, is the epitome of Freddie's ambitions.  A large mansion worth well over forty thousand pounds, a Roller, huge responsibilities and more tailored suits than you can shake a stick at.  Freddies' dreams of materialism, dynamism, respect and a high life are what makes him question his current lifestyle of petty fights in pubs, painting lewd graffiti, chasing girls and provoking the more-than tolerant local constabulary.

Bruce is the most troubled.  His home broken by a wayward mother and his resentment of a drunken, layabout father while he pays the bills thanks to his job at the aforementioned factory is all too painfully obvious, even to his best mates.  Played by Tom Hughes, he broods, snarls and smoulders his way through the film.  His anger at his predicament leads him into all kinds of scrapes, usually by fighting and lashing out at those he feels have sleighted him.   Hughes brings a standout performance and is One To Watch. 

Snork played by Jack Doolan is a much-needed comedy element.  Woefully inept at 'pulling' girls, his definition of manliness extends to a badly-drawn tattoo of a naked vampire looking out of a window splashed across his chest (complete with reverse on his back, and him displaying himself in his proud erect glory).  Trying desperately to hang onto a job at the train station as an announcer despite his so-called mates attempts to get him fired (insulting passengers for one), his only ambition in life is the pursuit of muff, as they put it.

The direction and cinematography is excellent, it has to be said.  The 70's have been richly evoked, complete with washed-out hues, awful wallpaper and terrible fashions.  The only faults being are the town itself seemingly too rural and quaint to conceivably house 'the worst school in the South of England' and a disjointedness between the locations so sumptuously represented.  Flitting between council estate, branch-line train-stop, faux middle-class property excess and rowdy nightclub histrionics, there's little sense of a coherent structure to this poorly-planned conurbation. 

The plot meanders along and Freddie's eyes are opened as he meets a childhood sweetheart only to discover she is engaged to his mentor at the Assurance company, the rather snake-like Mike Ramsey (Matthew Goode in a deliciously malevolent role).  Witnessing Ramsey emulating Kendricks propensity to ignore the women of their life, their ruthlessness in pursuit of riches and fortune and a long-term future selling something he is hopelessly incapable of doing, Freddie must decide if this is what he really really wants (to paraphrase The Spice Girls) and if he really is any 'better' than his bitter dad and rowdy adolescent friends now that he wears a suit.

My Opinion

It's not belly-laughs, certainly, but there are some standout scenes and comedic beats that are incredibly funny.  Snork taking the stage to sing a Slade number much to the crowds adulation before blowing all that goodwill out of the window with a singularly mis-timed and expletive-ridden joke is one such scene.  We laughed loud at that one.  The humour is uncomfortable in many places but then, Gervais and Merchant are absolute masters at that.  Witness Freddies dad and Grandmother ranting about foreigners, blacks, gays and anything else not remotely 'British' or of the perceived 'norm'.  Freddies attempts at showing the illogicalities in their arguments are met with stone-walled ignorance.  Was that generation as bad as all that?  Going by the sitcoms, yes they probably were.

The story is twee and no doubt reflects Gervais' experiences of growing up in a provincial Reading suburb (where Cemetery Junction is based).  Coming-of-age stories have been done in their multitude before and no doubt will be a popular choice to come.  The key is in making the characters sympathetic and against a backdrop of racist, sexist Britain, the three 'heroes' definitely do that.  Freddie in particular, despite his materialistic bluster, is more modernist than most, recognising the path of servitude Julie, the object of his distant affections, will find herself if she continues her relationship with Ramsey, her fathers replicant.

The story pans out to a fitting denouement and while there are no great surprises or shocking twists, the gentle pacing and decent length makes for a satisfying viewing experience.  The soundtrack is very evocative too, with some terrific trips down the memory lane of popular music.  Recommended.

Rated 15 with some highly-caustic language, including the C-word uttered several times and at one point, shouted very loudly.  I'm from Doncaster so we learn that kind of vocabulary in primary school but others may find it a bit too much. 

The running time of 1 hour and 35 minutes is paced well.  There's not too much padding and the plot is lean enough not to make it feel like a chore.

Karl Pilkington crops up in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo.  There's no mistaking the roundness of his head though.

Movie review: Tony, London Serial Killer (2009)

Synopsis

A socially-inept, moustachioed loner struggles to fit into society and when his attempts at friendship are rebuffed, he resorts to murder most horrid.  And so begins the tale of Tony, London Serial Killer, the directorial debut of Gerard Johnson.

You're doing WHAT in your sink?

My, what a debut it is.  Peter Ferdinando plays the titular outcast, his face an almost-emotionless mask of confusion, struggling to work out in his mind how to interact, to become normal.  The film starts with him befriending a couple of druggie smack-heads as they burn-up in Tony's depressingly dingy flat.  He hasn't quite figured out the personal boundaries of people, passing a glass of squash into one of the young scrote-bags face while he's trying to shoot up. After being angrily shouted at and while the young lad is comatose on the sofa, zonked out on drugs, Tony proceeds to place a plastic bag over the young lads head before dragging the body into the bedroom for a 'lie-down'.

It's normal.  That's what makes it so terrifying.  Tony's limited mental capacity takes the angry rebuffs at his reaching out for friendship and affection as a problem with the other person and for that, they should be swatted as simply as one might a fly.  Even the body disposal is undertaken with routine awkwardness, sawing through innards with a blunt knife to make it fit into a plastic carrier bag, ready for stuffing down drains or into the murky depths of the Thames.  He mutters under his breath while doing so, his utterances deep, dark and angry.

Cruising gay pubs is a fertile ground for would-be suitors and Tony, with his Freddie Mercury moustache, slight demeanour and odd clothes, is certainly popular amongst the party scene.  Danger is impalpable to the men whom he picks up.  Waking up to a corpse one morning, Tony casually asks the unknown (quite dead) male if he would like breakfast as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

There is no real 'story' to Tony, the person and the film.  He and it just .. 'are'.  Living on the periphery of society has allowed him to remain hidden and unseen and morbidly alone.  Turner once said 'Man is a social animal' and it's that instinctive drive forcing Tony into situations he's clearly uncomfortable with.  He barely knows the difference between right and wrong and he certainly feels no guilt.  He is addicted to violent videotapes and regularly quotes passages from said movies, as if he has no other form of communication.  A sociopath is probably the nearest clinical description but like Hannibal Lector, 'monster' is closer to the freshly-limed, just-butchered bone. 

Even so, there is an element to him that you can't help emphasise with.  Forgotten and ignored by just about everyone, even those whom he comes into contact with treat him with distain and anger and suspicion.  He only wants a friend, someone to talk to, someone who will love and care for him and yet, those nearest to him treat him like something they'd wipe off their shoe.  A visit to a prostitute results in him being thrown out on his ear for daring to ask for 'just a cuddle'.  Is it Tony's fault he's like he is?  Or is it the very society shunning him?

As the plot progresses, the human jungle that Tony has found himself on the outside of, starts to intrude.  A child goes missing on the rough estate where Tony lives and concerned citizens turn their eyes to the furtive loner with the barred and locked doors.  A TV licensing man turns up and threatens to take away Tonys beloved colour portable telly.  A kindly neighbour offers him a place at their Sunday dinner table.  His benefit money comes under threat unless he makes more of an effort to find work, something that he has managed to elude for his entire life.  Will Tonys secrets come spilling out and the awful truth behind the blocked and smelly drains shock everyone to the core or will Tony be able to melt back into his semi-existence, killing at will?

A large part of the film is shot on a handy-cam and the dialogue is improvised.  This gives the film a very authentic, gritty feel to it, almost like a documentary and we are intruding on Tony's private business.  It's squalid and dank and life in these sprawling high-rise conurbations is no picnic.  The gore is barely shown and kept to a minimum, no doubt reflecting the extremely low budget.  We see some of the kills, not all, and we see some of the inevitable detritus of an active serial killer at large, but not all.  Dismembered limbs, whole stomach tracts (that could have come from a pig, for all we know) and .. that's about it.  It's understated and director Johnson (also the writer) keeps to the old adage of 'less is more'.

There's are obvious parallels to be made between Tony and Dennis Nilson, the serial killer who preyed on and killed a multitude of men before leaving them for the rats and local Dyno-Rod operatives.  As Nilson, the true figure for Tony may never be truly known as we see him in a small snapshot of his hopeless, sad and pathetic life.  Nilson himself was only rumbled after the smell from the drains is discovered to be decomposing body parts and Tony struggles to maintain an aura of decorum and innocence when the smell around his domicile is increasingly questioned.

My Opinion

It's not without its faults.  Several scenes played out too long, no doubt due to the improvisational nature.  A couple of the plot strands were left hanging but then, doesn't that happen in 'real-life' anyway?  The conclusion will divide.  It did in our household anyway and while I could at least understand the reasoning, my wife hated it.  It's almost Brett Easton Ellis-like in its brazenness.

Tony London Serial Killer is a real affecting film and the images, while tame compared to the likes of say, Saw or Hostel, stay with you long after the closing credits.  Tony, the person that is, is something of an enigma, and viewer affection will swing wildly from deep sympathy to abject horror and repulsion.  A lot of that is down to Peter Ferdinando's depiction.  He's truly mesmerising and it's difficult to separate the actor from the character.

The film reaches far beyond the gritty exterior and provides a talking point for hours afterwards.  Not many movies can claim to provoke that reaction.  Take Harry Brown for example, that odious piece trying to make some kind of statement about youth and gang culture but missing wildly of the mark.  Here, while the locations are vaguely similar (drab and sprawling London Council estates) that statement is much more .. understated (pardon the pun) and is much more effective because of it. 

Recommended.  I have to give it 5 stars, if only to reflect the impact the movie, and particular Peter Ferdinando as Tony, caused.  Open minds only though.

Certificate: 18
Running time: 1 hour and 16 minutes

Papas Other World : Movie review : Hide and Seek (2005)

Robert De Niro is something of an enigma.  Once the purveyor of incredible performances such as Jake La Motta, Travis Bickle, a young Don Corleone, he's now resorting to pay-check movies and with few exceptions, he's a shadow of his former self.  Meet The Parents is probably the only movie of late where he's done the business but even then, he's just playing Robert De Niro by another name.

Which brings us to Hide and Seek.

Agent: Hey, Bobby Dee, it's your agent Sid here, how you doing?

RDN: What you got for me Sid? I'm dying on my derriere here.

Agent: I've got this script ...

RDN: I'll take it, I need a new conservatory and a stone-built barbecue pit I've got my eye on.

Agent: But Bob, you don't know what it ...

RDN: Sid, did you not hear me?  I said, barbecue pit ...

Agent: Fine.  I'll ask for the usual 20 million then ...

RDN: Good boy.

Etc.

Hide and Seek tells the tale of a normal, happily married couple whose wife then boffs herself in the bath.  At the shock and horror of it all, Robert De Niro's psychologist character takes leave of his senses and decides to haul himself and eleven year old daughter off into the country to inhabit a mysterious house in the middle of nowhere.  Daughter then starts up a conversation with an imaginary friend who is a lot less friendly than it first appears.  Cue lots of spooky hi-jinks as adults do stupid things, Dakota Fanning looks weird and viewers try to rouse themselves from a boredom-induced coma.

There are even a couple of star-turns by an ever-green Elizabeth Shue, Famke Janssen implausibly playing a psychiatric colleague and that bloke from Disclosure playing a copper with a mysterious agenda.  Throw in some wild-eyed neighbours who lost their own kid and it all starts to add up to what could be a nice little chiller.

Of course, this being Hollywood and things like suspense, mystery or even horror aren't allowed to feature in any film where those attributes are deemed most suitable.  Being the whole crux of the story, the imaginary friend thing is played out with inevitable tedium.  Robert De Niro, an acclaimed psychologist loses all of his 'powers' and is unable to partake in even the most simplest of conversations with his daughter, something he is singularly supposed to be able to do because of his profession. He has to call a colleague for the most basic of advice.  What?  Are you kidding?  What happened to the forty years of training you've had?  You're a psychologist for goodness sake, go out there and .. psychologilize.  That's what you do, you moron.

The plot progresses and stuff starts happening because the imaginary friend 'Charlie' says it will. 'You don't want to get him mad' says Emily.  Right young madam, get off Facebook, put down the Blackberry and start going out to play in the fresh air.  There's a weird cave in the 6000 acre garden we've just bought?  Take a torch, a Mars Bar and a long ball of string.  You'll be alright ...

It's not all bad.  Dakota Fanning plays the part of Emily, the brat, I mean child in question, with great gusto.  She acts Robert De Niro off the screen which let's face it, nowadays even the nativity play at the local infants school could do.  The whole premise of the film *is* quite interesting.  Who or what is the imaginary friend that is making all this spooky stuff happen is, I must admit, the only thing that kept our interest and the director goes to great lengths to ensure the secret is not let out of the bag until the right moment.

Once that moment comes, about three quarters of the way through, the rest of the film is played out like some by-the-numbers crappy thriller starring some Z-list actors that you've never heard of.  Except this has got the great Bobby Niro in it and we're supposed to sit in amazed wonder at another fantastic performance by the King of Method.  I wonder what 'method' he chose for this?  Sitting in a potting shed for a month, talking to tomato plants?  He may as well have done.

I'm trying hard not to give any spoilers away as the twist is quite big.  What's with the weird neighbours and why is everyone obsessed with Emily?  I'm never ever moving to backwoods US of A as they're all freaks, every single last one of them.  Well, if Hollywood is to be believed, they are.   Apologies to any US readers, don't blame me, blame John Polson, the director who encouragingly directed the interesting Swimfan (2002) and who then went onto do, erm, some episodes of some minor TV series', but not ALL of them you understand.  Sheesh.  I hope Bob got a really big barbecue pit because he'd need one to cook this turkey.

Released in 2005.
Rated 15.  For what, I don't know.  For the scares?  No.  For the ridiculous special effect of a dead cat?  Are you having a laugh?
'Starring': Robert De Niro, Dakota Fanning, Famke Jannsen, Elizabeth Shue, That Bloke from Disclosure and who also starred in that other film with Kevin Costner about JFK.  No, not THAT other one about JFK, the other OTHER one.
Apparently, Dakota Fanning took a pay cut from her usual million dollar fee a film just to have her name as star billing next to Robert De Niro's.  What's wrong with these people? 

Movie Review: Bad Lieutenant, Port of Call (2009)

Synopsis

Taking its cue from the 1992 Harvey Keitel vehicle of the same name (except the 'Port of Call' bit), this reboot stars Nicholas Cage and Eva Mendes and while maintaining the same sense of descent into madness, it's an altogether different film.

Lieutenant Terence McDonagh of the New Orleans Police Department is addicted to painkillers for a debilitating back condition and this invokes a rapid free-fall into a drug-fuelled frenzy of career-wrecking proportions while investigating a multiple homicide.

The Film

Set in the year after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, McDonagh and partner Stevie Pruit (played by a very hirsute and plump Val Kilmer), are investigating the execution of a family of 5 in an apparent drug war turf battle.  Already addicted to Cocaine, McDonagh sees this opportunity to not only solve the crime, but to fuel his enormously rapacious appetite for drugs due to the nature of low-life scum he has to deal with.  Lurching dangerously from one vile criminal to the next, McDonagh is never far away from the opportunity to screw someone over.

It's an interesting premise for a film but there are some glaring faults and some not so obvious.  For one, the aftermath of the hurricane is merely a footnote and already New Orleans is shown to be back on it's feet.  This is a complete misnomer and as history tells us, it would take much longer than the six months suggested by the film for it to be in such a state of normality.  Indeed, the widespread flooding only serves as a plot device to explain McDonaghs painful back condition.

Cages depiction is all wild-eyed laughter, drug-fuelled sleep deprivation and manic behaviour.  Along with his gambling addiction, this probably rings most true to the original but where Keitel's Lieutenant was seeking some kind of absolution, the script here sees the lunacy as a means to an end.  The tart with a heart is played by Eva Mendes, too pretty and innocent to be a prosser but that's possibly the reason behind McDonaghs fascination with her, a counterpoint of light in the dark depraved world he normally inhabits.

No doubt dividing opinion once again, Nicholas Cage brings an atypical over-the-top performance, complete with bad hair syrup.  As McDonagh, he's cast well and director Herzog plays to his frenzied strengths.  Afflicted by a permanent hunch and sloping shoulder, the pain that brings on his madness is shared by the audience.  But, despite this pain and anguish, the script never allows him to strike a sympathetic chord due to his entirely unsympathetic behaviour.  Witness one extraordinarily distasteful scene where he forces a quite ordinary couple to smoke crack while he humps the girl.

There are some outstanding moments.  One where McDonagh loses it with the Grandmother of a vital witness makes for uncomfortable but riveting viewing none-the-less.  Cutting off the air supply to an elderly, oxygenated woman to garner some information before threatening her with a gun and calling her some pretty crude names was unpleasant but showed the depths McDonagh had plumbed to.

The rest of the cast brings up some pretty interesting actors with the always excellent Brad Dourif, the aforementioned Val Kilmer (he's huge, did he really once play a svelte and slinky Jim Morrison?), even Stifflers mom cropping up in a grungy, greasy-haired role.  But its Cage's film and all of them pale in comparison to his colourful histrionics, which is a shame because as an ensemble they should add up to more than the whole.

There are some bizarre Hunter S. Thompson-esque moments, no doubt reflecting McDonaghs increasingly erratic behaviour.  A preoccupation with lizards that's never fully explained, an utterly off-the-wall break-dancing soul as its owner dies under a hail of bullets and a crocodiles eye-view of a car-crash scene (literally).  Knowing Herzog's background, it should have come as no surprise to find such moments of eclecticity but at least they are rare shards of light relief, as head-scratching and puzzling as they are.

The movie appears to have suffered from some quite drastic editing to fit it in to a barely manageable 122 minutes.  The ending is resolved in an unsatisfactory two minute segment that left this viewer cold and given more leeway, one can't help feeling the director wouldn't have bowed to some kind of focus-group pressure.

Conclusion

For all its bluster, Bad Lieutenant blows too cold and all the elements don't add up to the sum of its parts.  Cage will either dazzle or annoy but either way, his performance is let down by a script that tries to be outlandish but falls short of the mark.  The film has said very little by the time the end credits are rolling and for such a raw subject, that is its biggest fault.

Running time: 122 minutes
Rated: 18 for scenes of violence, sexual or otherwise and extremely crude offensive language.
Director: Werner Herzog
Starring: Nicholas Cage, Eva Mendes, Val Kilmer, Xzibit (the rapper).