The Saw Series

Posted on October 31, 2012 by badblokebob

Between October 2009 and October 2011, I reviewed every film in the Saw franchise. As it’s Halloween again, it seems a good time to re-post them all to this new blog — one per day in the last week, because I timed it cleverly. Think of this as a kind of personal last hurrah for the ’00s horror staple.

And staple it was, providing one film every year, at Halloween of course, between 2004 and 2010. Indeed, by the time of Saw IV they were using the tagline, “If it’s Halloween, it must be Saw”. The series was at the spearhead of the low-budget high-gore era of horror — the once-ubiquitous term “torture porn” was coined to describe 2005’s Hostel, but it was retroactively applied to Saw. The filmmakers refuted the label, and at the series’ best they’re right. The original film is a small-scale thriller with gory/scary moments — it’s actually a pretty good film, deserving to transcend the reputation its long-running follow-ups have attracted. At its worst, though, the series does plumb the depths of extreme gore for its own sake. Saw III is perhaps the worst example, but that doesn’t excuse some of the other films.

Another factor that marks the films out is their continuing story. Perhaps this will one day be viewed as A Thing of the ’00s — witness how many TV series (especially in the US) moved from obsessively standalone storytelling to serial nature, led by the likes of 24 and The Wire, and cemented by the huge success (in the US at least) of Lost. Though every Saw film presents a standalone story — what I call the “Game of the Film”, as each is a deadly set of tasks (a game) constructed by central villain/anti-hero Jigsaw (or one of his disciples) for some deserving guest character — they quickly become obsessed with their own mythology, doling out variably-sized doses of backstory each time. The early films pretty much stand alone, but by the third and fourth the series is beginning to disappear up its own rear end as it obsessively fills in all the blanks.

The Saw series, unlike so many long-running horror film franchises, really is a series — you can’t dive in and just watch any entry; not if you want it to make sense, anyway. The first two movies are the exception, but the third and fourth take place concurrently and then the franchise moves forward (mostly) through an on-going investigation. Fortunately they were allowed to wrap it up, with Saw 3D (the seventh and final film) bringing the drawn-out story threads to a conclusion. It’s not a wholly satisfying ending (as you can read in my full review), but at least it is one.

The once mega-hit series was killed off by low-budget-filmmaking’s latest fad, the found-footage movie: where once Saw was dominant at Halloween, the sixth film was out-grossed by newcomer Paranormal Activity. That cut short long-term plans for the series (as my review of the fourth film mentions, they once promised at least eight movies), and Paranormal Activity has trundled on as an annual Halloween staple for the 2010s (the fourth was released a fortnight ago). Personally they don’t interest me.

Neither did I think the Saw movies would, really. I’m no gore fiend, nor even a massive horror fan — there has to be something else going on than simply scares to really hold my attention. This is where the first Saw is a real success, because I’d argue it’s actually a thriller with horrific elements; kind of like a B-movie rendition of Se7en, perhaps. Even when it sinks to nasty depths at points that follow, the series retains this thriller element, the (almost-)never-ending story all but ensuring the viewer’s need to continue watching. Even when some of the middle entries dipped, there was always the promise of redemption — the sixth film is perhaps the series’ second-best, for instance. Sadly they couldn’t maintain that momentum for the final entry.

I’m glad the Saw movies came to an end, because with that on-going mythology they really needed an ending. But now they’re done, I kind of miss them a little. Not necessarily enough to sit through it all again… but maybe one day.

My full original reviews of each film, first published between 2009 and 2011, follow:

Serpico (1973)

Posted on October 29, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #30
Sidney Lumet | 125 mins | TV | 1.85:1 | Italy & USA / English | 18 / R

Before Murder on the Orient Express or Dog Day Afternoon, Sidney Lumet directed this true story about a New York cop battling corruption.

Noting it’s a true story, it certainly has a biographical feel. That came as a bit of a surprise, to me at least — I was expecting a thriller about a good cop exposing the corrupt ones, but instead got Frank Serpico’s life story from the time he left training on. It’s not as if it just deals with his professional career — say, showing how his early days formed his moral compass, or something — there’s lots of screen time devoted to his personal relationships too, which may or may not have been relevant to his work. More than a corrupt cop thriller, it’s a biopic about someone involved in that world.

This focus on reality begs one question: just how much is it based in the truth? It makes an uncommonly high claim to reality by including all this near-extraneous detail, but typically “true life” stories, especially those made quickly after the real events, fictionalise things for one reason or another. It wouldn’t matter if it didn’t effect the quality of the film, but I think it does: it feels a bit sloppy at times; kind of disjointed. The timeline jumps forward almost at random; things occasionally seem to go by half explained; there’s no clear throughline… This all plays into the feeling of it being like real life, where nothing — certainly not a police investigation — is as simple or straightforward as it’s usually made out to be for the movies. Which has its pros and its cons.

As the titular copper, it’s a typically strong performance from Al Pacino. Not his best work — I don’t think the part really gives him enough to deliver that — but he’s more often than not the most engaging element of the film. This was his fifth film; considering The Godfather was just his third, and he followed this up with Part II and Dog Day Afternoon, it’s easy to see why he’s long been regarded as a Great Actor.

I feel like Serpico used to come up fairly often as a minor classic; the kind of film not a lot of people have seen these days but many more should have; but I don’t feel like I hear it mentioned any more. Obviously this is just a perception and maybe it’s a load of rubbish, but I’m afraid I side a little more with the latter-day less-mentioned side of things.

I would say it feels rather worthy, at least in part for the things I’ve mentioned about its claims to truth. It’s an interesting, sometimes compelling film, but I wouldn’t say I enjoyed or liked it. “Enjoy” is an awkward word — you wouldn’t typically say you “enjoy” Schindler’s List, but you do (you could say) enjoy its greatness. I didn’t enjoy Serpico in the way you would typically say you enjoyed something; nor did I enjoy it in a Schindler’s List way; nor did I really admire it, again for the reasons levelled above. But it has elements of interest nonetheless.

Skyfall: Initial Thoughts

Posted on October 26, 2012 by badblokebob

The following article is resolutely spoiler free.

My spoiler-filled review/commentary is here.

Bond is back, and you’ve surely seen the torrent of 4- and 5-star reviews (and the insignificant handful of dissenting voices). I’m pleased to report that the consensus is correct: Skyfall is Bond at his best.

There’s also a lot of potentially interesting stuff to discuss from it, which is why I’m throwing this out now and will try to be more considered in a full review later. I read someone on the ‘net this week express surprise that anyone would be concerned about being spoilered for a Bond film, because “no one” watches them for the plot. Well, that person was clearly a first-degree idiot anyway, but of all the Bonds I think Skyfall offers something different. The climax, for instance, which is stunningly brilliant in all sorts of ways, is not one you could picture occurring in any other Bond film. Aside from that, there are themes and subplots that are, more than ever, best experienced in the film and discussed after.

So leaving that to a later, spoiler-y review, a few thoughts I might return to later. Firstly, this is in many respects Judi Dench’s film. Nothing against Daniel Craig — he’s great too — but she has surely the largest part ever afforded to M; even more so than her featured role in The World Is Not Enough and her increased importance through the previous two Craig outings. She’s given some relatively meaty stuff to play and, of course, Dench is more than up to the task. Plus Javier Bardem makes for a great villain. Some have compared him to Heath Ledger’s Joker, but that undersells it — he’s camp, but nowhere near that over the top.

Technically speaking, the film looks gorgeous thanks to Roger Deakins’ cinematography. Best looking Bond ever? There’s little I can think of to dispute that. Obviously it could be said to lack some of that ’60s glamour, but from a purely photographic perspective, it shines. (Incidentally, this shot isn’t actually in the film.) I’m less sold on Thomas Newman’s score. While in no way bad, and with undoubted sparing but precise use of the Bond theme, it didn’t always click for me. The fact I at times felt like I was listening to cues from Lemony Snicket did it no favours. I love that film and I love its score, but it has no place here.

Daniel Kleinman is back on title sequence duties, and the work he’s delivered is second to none. Familiar yet also innovative, whatever you think of Adele’s Skyfoal theme, Kleinman has delivered an instant-classic sequence to go with it.

The action sequences are well done, which can be a worry when you hire a more dramatically-minded director, but there’s some stunning stuff. Nonetheless it’s to the writers’ and director’s credit that people are more likely to come away talking about events in the plot than “wasn’t it cool when X exploded, or when A did B to C?” But there are some cool bits, and even stuff you’ve seen in the trailers has a better or different impact in the film itself. One stunt, just part of the familiar montage seen in most of the trailers, even drew a laugh at my screening (in a good way).

This is the 50th anniversary and Skyfall has acknowledgements of that. This, for fans, would be even worse spoiler territory than the plot — honestly, there perhaps aren’t as many twists as you might expect in that department, but the ways they’ve nodded to the franchise’s history are sublime. Die Another Day was ever so conscious it was the 20th film and was stuffed with blatant callbacks throughout. It’s kind of fun, but a bit on the nose. Skyfall is more subtle and therefore more effective. But, as noted, those would perhaps be the worst things to spoil, so I’ll tally my favourites later.

In closing, I’m not sure that Skyfall is, as some have claimed, the best Bond ever. It is, perhaps, too atypical for that. But then so are From Russia With Love and Casino Royale, to one degree or another, and I’d have no problem placing those at the top of such a list. No, what’s really required before such a decree is multiple viewings — Die Another Day was well-received on release but is now widely derided; On Her Majesty’s Secret Service suffered years of neglect before its relatively-recent re-assessment (Quantum of Solace, conversely, is still waiting for such a re-evaluation). In short, Skyfall may well be the best Bond film ever made, but only time will tell that. Until then, you can be certain that it’s bloody brilliant.

Stepping Out (1991)

Posted on October 23, 2012 by badblokebob

Lewis Gilbert is the director of You Only Live Twice, The Spy Who Loved Me, Moonraker, Alfie, Educating Rita and Shirley Valentine — eclectic is an understatement! Here he works more in line with the latter two, telling the tale of a small amateur dance glass, mostly populated by middle-aged women, trained by a former big-stage wannabe (Liza Minnelli), who are invited to perform at a large local dance revue.

Adapted from his own play by Richard Harris (not that one), it’s easy to imagine how this had theatrical origins: it’s all about performance and the stage, for one thing, and there’s a focus on character and dialogues that feels vaguely stage-derived. Which is in no way to say they’ve failed in translating it to the screen — if you didn’t know its roots, I don’t think you’d be tempted to guess. The action is expanded, with many scenes taking place outside of the group’s rehearsal room (where I believe the entirety of the play took place), and Lewis knows his way behind a camera, so we’re not stuck with stagey blocking.

Obviously the film has an overarching plot, but it’s not really where the focus lies; it’s more an occasionally-vague long-term goal, the preparations for which are spotlighted in a couple of rehearsal scenes. Though Minnelli is ostensibly the star and lead, many of the others are given a not-unfair chunk of screen time too. So with a moderately large cast and the throughline almost a subplot itself, the film occasionally feels like a collection of subplots bolted together. It’s a form that can work, and here it passes well enough.

The standout from the cast is probably Julie Walters, in a relatively early big-screen role. Considering how well-known she is now she seems quite lowly billed and little-featured, but bearing in mind this is a US production from the early ’90s, it’s less surprising. She’s very good (isn’t she always?) as the group’s newest member, a posh English lady who sticks her oar in and is a bit too blunt with her comments. I seem to remember her generating most of the laughs in this comedy-drama, although that’s not to disparage anyone else’s work.

Stepping Out is what some people would call a Woman’s Film, exactly as patronisingly as that sounds. It’s not entirely female — there’s a male member of the group (though one might argue he’s a little camp), and a git of a boyfriend — but, without meaning to come over as patronising myself, you can tell they were aiming for a female audience. Which doesn’t mean men can’t enjoy it, obviously.

For either gender, I think it remains a fairly lightweight but entertaining little tale. It’s not likely to illuminate you in any way, or make you roar with laughter, and it’s not even a shining light in the group-of-underdogs-who-think-they-can’t-prove-they-can sub-genre, but it’s a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours for those who like this kind of thing.

War Horse (2011)

Posted on October 20, 2012 by badblokebob

After decades telling tales from the Second World War, Spielberg moves back a conflict. That said, the BD’s special features make sure to point out this “is not his First World War movie” — it’s just a good tale about a boy and his horse.

Based on the children’s novel by Michael Morpurgo, plus the 2000 stage adaptation that inspired Spielberg to make the film, War Horse follows Joey, a thoroughbred born in 1910s Devon, and his loving owner, Alby. When their farm faces tough times, Alby’s father sells Joey to the army as the Great War starts, initiating a trot across Britain and France that takes in both sides of the conflict over the course of the war.

It might be best to define the film as an epic. It’s a relatively intimate one, focusing in on a handful of characters at a time rather than cutting back and forth between various groups, but the way it does move along several sets of characters, across varied locations, and through a lengthy stretch of time, all command a feeling of a grand story. The special features are right in that it’s not really the story of the war, but what it does show is something of the experience of living through that war, and of the humanity that was still present within it.

I imagine some would level accusations of implausibility, but stranger things have happened in the real world than much of what we witness here. Take a late-occurring scene of British-German co-operation in No Man’s Land, for instance — surely two sides at war would never work together! Well, this is the same war that saw the opposing sides play a football match on Christmas Day, remember? It can’t be denied that there’s factual inaccuracy here (the climax takes place at the Somme in the lead up to Armistice Day in 1918, but that battle was actually fought in 1916), or the occasional heavy dose of sentimentality (it’s directed by Spielberg and co-penned by Richard Curtis — what did you expect?), but I think it carries through these with a scale and heart that is, primarily, entertaining. It is based on a children’s novel and I think aims to be a family film (it should by rights be a PG; my twitter rant on that subject is here), but Morpurgo knows when to treat his audience with respect and at points it certainly doesn’t shy away from the harshnesses of the period.

Similarly, the way the horses are handled seems pretty much spot on. They’re not anthropomorphised, but they definitely develop characters and personality as we follow them throughout the film. Naturally most of the focus falls on the human characters, what with them being the ones who can talk and all that, but Joey is the only character we follow throughout the movie and we’re led to relate to him and his story in a believable way. And I say this as someone who’s not a horsey person. Spielberg reportedly found it tough working with real horses, struggling to get performances from them that matched what he’d seen on stage — unsurprisingly, as those were puppets controlled by well trained and rehearsed humans. Nevertheless, however they went about it (and it was with very minimal use of puppets or CGI), the “horse acting” is solid.

Aiding the sense of the epic is Janusz Kaminski’s cinematography, which is regularly stunning and definitely one of the film’s standout achievements. The beauty of some shots is immediately obvious — he lenses the countryside idyll of Dartmoor in a sweeping fashion, bathed in summer sunlight — but there are striking compositions to be found throughout, be they in close-ups, cavalry charges, horse auctions, battlefield hospitals… There’s often a lovely texture to things too, from the likes of drifting snow or chaff, or the way light streaks across a room. The final scene, fully tinted orange, calls to mind the likes of Gone With the Wind, I presume with full consciousness.

Less remarkable is John Williams’ score. It’s not bad per se, and has its moments, but other times it’s either forgettable or forced (some of the early comical bits are horribly overplayed with whimsical plinky-plonking). For all that, a memorable sequence you’ve surely seen in the trailers — when Joey runs over and through the trenches — is perfectly scored, recalling the action/adventure movie grandeur we all primarily remember Williams for.

As I marked my viewing of War Horse on various websites, it struck me how many negative comments there were. I thoroughly disagree. Not everything has to offer gritty realism, even when it’s dealing with horrendous times and events. Morpurgo, Spielberg and co have conjured a sweeping tale of friendship and humanity in the face of adversity; one that isn’t afraid to depict some of the nastier realities of the world, but in a way that makes them relatable for a younger audience. I think that’s important; but this isn’t a Worthy Film for that, it’s just something it does well. I think it also nails sensations of adventure and, yes, sentimentality.

I think it’s a bit of an epic, with all that connotes, and I love a bit of an epic.

War Horse is on Sky Movies Premiere twice daily until Thursday.

It placed 2nd on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2012, which can be read in full here.

Knight and Day (2010)

Posted on October 17, 2012 by badblokebob

2010 #16
James Mangold | 105 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | USA / English | 12 / PG-13

James Mangold is one of those filmmakers with a thoroughly eclectic CV, taking in crime thriller Cop Land, psych-ward drama Girl, Interrupted, fantasy rom-com Kate & Leopold, killer thriller Identity, Johnny Cash biopic Walk the Line, Western remake 3:10 to Yuma, and is currently calling the shots on superhero sequel/prequel The Wolverine. Here he does something different again: the comedic action movie; the ever-growing subgenre we seem to have seen a lot of lately, with films like Shoot ‘Em Up, The A-Team and RED.

That’s the kind of film Knight and Day was advertised as — spy-action-movie spoofery — and it should therefore come as no surprise that that’s the kind of film it is. There are no big surprises in the plot or characters, but because it’s a comedy it can push the action sequences in ways that are too silly for a regular Tom Cruise kinda film, and I think that also allows us to forgive the fairly standard plot. Plenty of reviews and online commenters have expressed disappointment with the film, perhaps expecting something else — sometimes it pays to listen to the advertising, eh?

As a quick note, I watched the theatrical version but there’s an extended one too (that’s what comes of taking something from Sky Movies instead of a rental Blu-ray). It offers a couple of extra character scenes for Cameron Diaz and a few more beats in the action scenes. Essential? I shouldn’t think so, but it looks like some fun stuff if you have the choice. The total difference is around seven minutes.

Knight and Day is nothing deep or revelatory or groundbreaking, but if you were expecting it to be then more fool you. If you can’t abide Cruise or Diaz (and I know some people really can’t) then it should certainly be avoided, but those caveats aside I thought it was good fun. No classic, and far from destined to be a standout on Mangold’s multi-Oscar-winning filmography, but an appropriately entertaining couple of hours.

Gnomeo & Juliet (2011)

Posted on October 12, 2012 by badblokebob

Gnomeo & Juliet is the latest British attempt to crack the lucrative CGI animated kids’ movie market, after the lack of success (or, alternatively, failure) from the likes of Flushed Away and that one about the carrier pigeon whose name escapes me (after a quick IMDBing, it’s Valiant). Finally, this one seems to have been more of a success… perhaps because it was backed by Elton John, released by Disney (under Touchstone), and helmed by the co-director of Shrek 2.

The obvious high-concept — Romeo and Juliet, with gnomes! — is the kind of thing that will tickle you or set you screaming with rage (or possibly just tutting with contempt). If the latter, your mileage will vary on how charming it is to win you over; if the former, “tickled” is about the level the film operates at. It pulls off a couple of nice jokes, mainly around the fact it stars garden gnomes, and it plays with your expectations towards the end, but it’s pretty forgettable — I know there were some bits that made me chuckle, but I can’t actually remember any of them now. It’s also stuffed with recognisable British voices, making it quite fun for anyone who (like me) likes to play Spot The Famous Voice.

My only other note is that it ends with a truly awful cover of Crocodile Rock by Nelly Furtado. A storyboarded “all’s well that ends well” ending (included on the BD, and the DVD for all I know) looks much better.

Gnomeo & Juliet is more amiable than its “oh, you didn’t” title might suggest, but that’s about all. Shakespeare certainly has nothing to worry about.

Unknown (2011)

Posted on October 4, 2012 by badblokebob

Following the surprise success of Taken, Liam Neeson again finds himself in action man mode as an American caught up in a Europe-set thriller. This time he’s some kind of scientist travelling to a conference with his wife, when he’s caught in a car accident. Managing to return to the hotel, he finds his wife doesn’t know him and there’s someone else who says they are him…

As premises go it’s an intriguing one; the kind of thing that gets you on board and you have no idea how they might satisfactorily resolve. That makes a change when most films, especially thriller and action movies, play out a string of interchangeable but familiar beats. In the film’s special features, producer Leonard Goldberg talks about how, having made thrillers his whole life, when he starts reading or watching them he can usually figure it all out early on, but the novel on which Unknown is based managed to surprise him. Thinking if it could surprise him it might surprise others too, he snapped up the rights, and I must say I think he was right. Additional kudos to the distributors for keeping any hint of those twists out of the marketing — a rare feat these days. (Well, if they were there, I didn’t pick up on them.)

That said, it’s all a bit implausible, but I suppose no worse than many other entries in the action-thriller genre. It’s only the fairly realistic setup that throws you off the scent — if you were aware of developments from the post-twist third act, and therefore the tone that pitches, the whole thing would be more acceptable from the outset. I’ve seen other reviews and viewer comments criticise this ending, but personally I thought that was when it got good, kicking into a higher gear and retrospectively making the iffy earlier bits make a lot more sense. Plus it’s where you’ll find some of what the film does best: Frank Langella turning up briefly for one great scene with YouTube’s Hitler (aka Bruno Ganz) and a cool exit; a really good car chase; and a couple of solid punch-ups, including a particularly good one at the climax.

This variability left me torn as to rating — and, more importantly, what that rating is used as a signifier for: an overall impression of the film. I was thinking 3 for most of it — a passable if occasionally plodding identity thriller with a mite too much coincidence and believability-stretching. But the impressively and pleasurably unforeseen twist casts the entire movie in a new light, and for the enjoyment that gave I’m tempted up towards a 4. In the end, maybe the answer lies in your view of how to judge a movie’s quality: is it how you felt towards it as it played out, or is it looking back at the totality of the experience afterwards? Both are valid approaches, and in the majority of films would probably result in the same opinion. But some films have a changes-everything-you’ve-seen twist, and by changing everything you’ve seen it might change your opinion; it would certainly change your experience on any subsequent viewings. Unknown certainly has one of those twists.

The other way, the way that makes all criticism an art rather than a science, is in how you feel. While I was unconvinced for much of the running time, the surprises turned Unknown into a flawed but enjoyable film that has appeal to any fan of a good thriller. That might merit an extra star; stick with it and you might even agree; but thinking back on it a while later, the earlier parts overshadow things. Maybe a second viewing would change my opinion, but for now it feels like 3.

The Negotiator (1998)

Posted on October 3, 2012 by badblokebob

As premises go, “hostage negotiator turns hostage taker” is a doozy. You can immediately imagine all the drama to be had from pitting The Best Negotiator In The World (because it’s a movie — it’s going to be the best one that goes rogue, isn’t it) against The Second Best Negotiator In The World — he’ll know all the techniques! He’ll… well, mainly the techniques one. But also his colleagues will be working against him — will they be on his side? Or against him? It practically writes itself.

Unsurprisingly, then, The Negotiator does largely trade on all of this stuff. And that’s no bad thing. It struggles a little to set up the idea that such a man would put himself in that position, but once over that hurdle (and, as getting over such hurdles go, it does a bang-up job) it rattles along at a solid thriller pace. Obviously there’s a plot about why Samuel L. Jackson’s Best Negotiator In The World has turned hostage taker — naturally, it’s to do with clearing his name — but that mystery is largely there to service the negotiator-on-negotatior action. The plot also delivers the prerequisite villainous-types-who-are-villains and villainous-types-who-are-actually-good and good-types-who-are-actually-villains pretty much on queue, but still does a good job of making the viewer second guess who’s on which side.

There’s also the thing of seeing how long a film can drag out a hostage situation. Surely not all the investigating can be done from within that one room? No, of course it can’t, and I imagine anyone well enough versed in this kind of thriller will know the structure well enough. For me, speaking structurally, Speed comes to mind: the main thing is the stuff on the bus, but before that it sets up the characters and gets them on the bus, and the third act goes off-bus for a climax. Similarly, The Negotiator‘s first act gives us a day-in-the-life case for maverick negotiator Jackson, before putting him in his predicament; it toddles along, extending the hostage situation part with some tense and/or exciting sequences; and then the third act sees our hero set off to find the proof he needs.

If I’m making The Negotiator sound like a set of stock thriller pieces and familiar tropes, I suppose that’s because it is. Most genre films are, aren’t they? Hence the name. It’s how those elements are leveraged in service of the particular high-concept that matters, and that’s all pulled off suitably well, aided by the acting talents of Jackson and, on the other end of the line, Kevin Spacey. I suppose such familiarity might rob the film of any crossover appeal, but for those who like this kind of movie, this is the kind of movie you’ll like.

100Films.co.uk

100% movies. Except when it's about TV.

Monthly Archives: October 2012