Beowulf: Director’s Cut (2007)

2008 #19
Robert Zemeckis | 110 mins | DVD | 12

Beowulf Director's CutBack to catching up on last year’s films that I missed, this time with Beowulf in its Director’s Cut form — which, much to my amusement at the time, prominently featured a BBFC 18 icon on its initial cover art but only received a 12 when classified. Clearly the BBFC didn’t feel the “bolder, never-before-seen images” were any more unsuitable for kiddies than the originals. Personally, I’m not so sure. This version of the film is bloody violent (literally); more so than Lord of the Rings, which is the comparison the BBFC make. I’m not a parent and I’m not pro-censorship (far from it), but this feels more like a 15 to me.

Anyway, that’s not the point. What of the film itself? Well, let’s stick with the violence for a moment. It’s bloody and brutal… and completely undermined by the quality of the animation. I like animated films; I have absolutely no problem with animated films for adults; but the issue here is that most of the characters (especially the ‘extras’) seem of about the same quality as humans in Shrek. So while the battle scenes are often very violent, it becomes hard to take them seriously because it’s all too cartoony. Perhaps this is where classifying became problematic. But it’s not just the violence — the animation is awkward throughout. It’s not lifelike enough to be confused with reality, but not ‘animated’ enough to accept on that level. The characters move stiffly, are mostly too smooth (things do improve with aged characters in the final act), and are ‘dead behind the eyes’. The creatures are largely less realistic CGI than you’d see in a live action film. There are even times when things aren’t far above the graphics from a high-end computer game.

It’s not all bad. Anthony Hopkins is entertaining (and sounding more Welsh than ever), and I enjoyed Alan Silvestri’s score. The screenplay plays fast and loose with the original poem, but Gaiman and Avery have justified this and it’s mostly pretty good. While the third act initially slows the film’s pace to a crawl, the tiredness of an older Beowulf and an exciting duel with a dragon make it the best bit, despite the occasional lack of internal logic (why doesn’t the dragon’s fire burn his heart?) It goes someway to making up for the Beowulf-Grendel battle earlier on. In a rare attempt at genuine faithfulness, Beowulf strips naked for the fight so as to be on equal terms with Grendel. Understandably, the filmmakers don’t want his CGI manhood flying around, so he’s always shot with something helpfully blocking his groin. Problem is, the lengths and tricks involved in achieving this are too reminiscent of similar bits in Austin Powers, turning what should be a big heroic action sequence into a comedic exercise (though, it must be said, not an especially amusing one).

I wanted to like Beowulf. All those people on IMDb who whined that it was animated and you couldn’t do an animated action movie for adults annoyed me something rotten, and I really wanted them to be proved wrong. Plus I like many of Zemeckis’ other films, I like the poem, and there’s a lot of potential for a good adaptation. But the weak CGI, sometimes leaden dialogue (I forgot to mention the 300-wannabe “I am Beowulf” and comedically repetitive “I’ve come to kill your monster”), and uncertain level of violence all get in the way. For the majority of its running time, Beowulf left me with a sadly inescapable feeling of disappointment.

2 out of 5

There seem to be a couple of conflicting reports on how different the two cuts are. A comparison lists 90 seconds of new material, but shows the running times to be four-and-a-half minutes different (without credits). On the other hand, the BBFC list the director’s cut as being just 30 seconds longer. However much is completely new, there’s definitely added blood in existing scenes and some shots have been replaced with more graphic versions.

Troy: Director’s Cut (2004/2007)

2008 #18
Wolfgang Petersen | 188 mins | DVD | 15 / R

Troy: Director's CutA lot of people didn’t like Wolfgang Petersen’s big budget version of The Iliad. I can’t remember the specific criticisms any more, other than that some friends who’d read the poem found this to be simply laughable. Personally, I quite enjoyed it — it may not be classic art like its source, but the theatrical cut of Troy was a more than passable example of swords-and-sandals entertainment. If not an epic, despite its running time, it was quite fun.

This director’s cut adds almost half an hour of new material, which is about a 15% increase in length — enough to justify a new number here, I feel. That said, I can’t spot most of what’s new, undoubtedly because the last time I saw Troy was in the cinema almost four years ago. Rose Byrne’s character seems to get more screen time, which in turn helps flesh out Achilles; and, based on what it says in IMDb’s trivia section, Trevor Eve’s role has also increased. He’s still a minor character, but as an advisor to King Priam the reinstating of his scenes means there’s more politics on screen. And I believe there’s some extra nudity too — quite why that couldn’t be in the R-rated theatrical cut is beyond me, but there you have it.

What this reveals is that, on the whole, Troy hasn’t changed much. If you know it well enough to spot the differences then you surely already like it, in which case I expect you’ll like this cut too. Despite the length and additions (which, in some extended cuts, can throw things out of kilter) it feels well paced, taking time to build character and plot in between the action sequences. Some of the characters have (relatively speaking) complex motives and actions — I expect we have Homer to thank for that — while several of the action scenes are fairly impressive — due more to the Hollywood production team.

If you didn’t like Troy first time round, I doubt you’ll be swayed now. Some of the script is very clunky, dragging the performances down with it, and if you didn’t like its level of faithfulness then that hasn’t improved either. Mind you, compared to the 1997 TV version of The Odyssey, which opens with a twenty minute version of this tale, Troy seems like high art.

4 out of 5

This score is one higher than I gave the theatrical cut (not reviewed here). I’d attribute this more to generosity and lowered expectations than the added material.


UPDATE (7/7/2014)

I recently re-watched the theatrical version on TV by ‘accident’, and was considerably underwhelmed — though, as noted above, I rated that one lower before, so technically nothing’s changed. Anyway, a few of my thoughts from that re-watch can be read here.

Starwoids (2001)

2008 #17
Dennis Przywara | 79 mins | DVD | PG

StarwoidsAnother fan documentary (following yesterday’s review of Done the Impossible), Starwoids tells the tale of two groups of Star Wars fans who queued for six weeks to be the first to see The Phantom Menace. Alongside this, the film takes a couple of diversions into general Star Wars fandom.

The main story here is the more interesting element. You might think an hour of people standing in line is pretty dull, but, surprisingly, enough happens to hold the attention. The two groups make a structurally pleasing contrast: one is just a group of fans, who have a great time playing games and hanging out in line. Their biggest worries are the police moving them off the pavement, and where to go to the toilet. The other group was organised by fansite CountingDown.com, and turns from a bunch of people having fun into a 24-hour television studio and media event on a sidewalk, provoking arguments, governments and revolutions. Przywara uses no narration for the majority of the film, so these contrasts are left for the viewer and participants to draw out on their own. Generally it works, though leaps in time and the skipping of certain events occasionally make it hard to follow what’s going on, especially at the more argumentative camp.

The asides into broader fandom work fairly well. They break up the occasional monotony of people queuing, but are neither entirely related to the release of Episode I nor delve far into painting a picture of Star Wars fandom as whole. This dilutes the focus of the film a little: it’s neither a comprehensive overview of fans nor entirely centred on the anticipation of one film. It would be a lesser film if they were missing, however, as Star Wars: The Musical, the life of a toy collector, and the woman whose car is painted like an X-Wing are among the highlights. A trip to find filming locations in Death Valley is a misguided inclusion though, as the lack of comparative clips or stills from the film itself renders it fairly pointless.

Eventually the hundreds of queuing fans get to see Episode I. First reaction: they love it. Przywara returns four days later, and then a year later — amusingly, no one is asked for a retrospective opinion on the (generally reviled) film. Personally, I’d much rather watch Starwoids again: while the fans’ aggressive nature makes it a somewhat more depressing experience than Done the Impossible, the insight into what it’s like to be completely obsessed (and to queue for a month and a half) are both interesting and entertaining.

4 out of 5

Done the Impossible: The Fans’ Tale of Firefly and Serenity (2006)

2008 #16
Jeremy Neish, Brian Wiser, Jared Nelson, Tony Hadlock and Jason Heppler | 79 mins | DVD

Done the ImpossibleOne of the more recent entries in the “fan documentary” sub-genre (which also includes the likes of Starwoids and Ringers: Lord of the Fans), Done the Impossible investigates the cult sparked by the prematurely-cancelled TV series Firefly and its continuation movie, Serenity — a movie that only exists thanks to the fans’ dedication.

The activism, and success, of Firefly’s fans (known as Browncoats) makes for a key difference from other fan docs: these aren’t just people who queue for obscene amounts of time to see something they like; these are people who helped turn a cancelled TV show into a DVD hit, and then a successful movie too. As such, as well as touching on the basics of fandom (forums, conventions, fanfic, and so on), this documentary is the tale of the rise and fall of the TV show and the making of the movie, but from the perspective of the fans rather than the filmmakers. That said, a noteworthy number of those involved in the film are interviewed, discussing their love for both the show and its fans, and often confessing to be fans themselves. These include six of the lead cast (one of whom hosts the documentary, and another narrates the DVD’s extras), writers and directors, and creator/writer/director (and God to fans) Joss Whedon.

As a film, Done the Impossible has a nicely loose structure, on the whole following the thread of the production story through to around the time of Serenity’s premiere, but taking time for diversions into personal recollections and general areas of Browncoatism. Actually having a story to tell gives the film an advantage over other fan docs (Ringers rather lacked one, for example) — even though there are diversions, there’s always a narrative to keep things moving forward. It certainly stops things from seeming too slow or repetitive.

Whatever you may think of them, Firefly and Serenity broke the rules, and in the process helped pave the way for other cancelled properties being revived by fan support. With its emphasis on personal recollections alongside the minutiae of fandom, Done the Impossible is undoubtedly of primary interest to fellow Browncoats, and perhaps anthropologists. But there should be broader interest in the story of a dedicated and unfailingly hopeful mass of people who came together, refused to give up, and, against all the odds, actually won.

4 out of 5

100 Days

April 9th: the 100th day of 2008! As it’s just over a quarter of the way through the year (that would’ve been March 31st, more or less), and also a nice round number in its own right, and as I did a similar thing at roughly this point last year, it seems an appropriate time for a statisticstastic look at how things are going so far.

I’ve seen a total of just 15 films so far. That makes my weekly average a lowly 1.07, meaning I’ll manage a paltry 56 films this year should that continue. Oh dear. (At this point last year, I was on course to see 145!)

Of those few films, eight were released in the 2000s, two each in the 1990s, ’80s and ’40s, and one in the ’30s. That means I’ve seen nothing from the ’70s, ’60s or ’50s, or before 1939.

I saw nine of them on DVD, four via download, and two on TV. Nothing on VHS, and I haven’t been to the cinema yet this year.

Ratings wise, I’ve so far handed out three full marks. Those were to Atonement, Dark City and Rebecca. Of the remaining twelve, five garnered 4 out of 5, four managed a 3, and three were awarded just 2. Nothing has been poor enough to merit a 1… yet. The average rating is therefore 3.5, exactly the same as at this point last year and a pretty averagey average.

With 38 weeks of the year to go, I have 85 films left to reach my target — that’s an average of 2.2 new films every week (or 9.5 every month) from here out. Quite low, one might think, but I’ve clearly not been living up to it.

Best in Show (2000)

2008 #15
Christopher Guest | 87 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

Best in ShowMockumentary from some of the team behind the perennially popular This is Spinal Tap. The target this time is the Competition Documentary, a genre of which the best comparable example I can recall is the excellent Spellbound (not the 1945 Hitchcock one). In this case, the film follows five sets of dog owners as they enter a prestigious dog show — an American Crufts, if you will.

The script, acting and direction always err just this side of believability, meaning if you came to this cold (and managed to not recognise any actors) you might be fooled into believing it was genuine. That doesn’t mean it’s short on laughs however — quite the opposite — and much of the comedy comes from the various recognisable character types. Not all of it mind, as many of the best moments are courtesy of a pair of commentators, who are always a good source for laughs (the first example that springs to mind is Dodgeball). Fred Willard does an excellent job as the poorly chosen sports commentator, and even his British straight man (in the ‘comedy double act’ sense), Jim Piddock, manages to grab a few laughs.

I reviewed This is Spinal Tap back at the start of last year, and while I enjoyed it (enough to award four stars) I found it often underwhelming and perhaps a victim of its own hype. No such issues with Best in Show. While it may not manage laugh-a-minute, its hit rate is above average, and what passes in between the gags is a surprisingly decent comedy-drama.

4 out of 5

A Room with a View (1985)

2008 #14
James Ivory | 112 mins | download | PG

A Room with a ViewI can’t help but wonder if, back in 1985, there was any audience confusion between A Room with a View and A View to a Kill. One can imagine legions of Bond fans accidentally finding themselves with a witty heritage drama, and legions of old dears accidentally finding themselves with a man twice their age trying to be an action hero. (In actuality the films were released about a year apart — that being just one reason this is a particularly silly notion.)

Putting aside such nonexistent confusion, what of that witty heritage drama? Once again, thanks to the adaptations module of my degree, I’m stuck watching a film straight after reading the novel it’s based on. So far these viewings have supported my long-held theory that reading any novel before watching the film version (especially immediately before) is a Very Bad Idea. However good A Room with a View may be — and it certainly has its share of positives — it still pales slightly in direct comparison to the novel.

The film’s faithfulness is admirable at least, combining events effectively at times and at others leaving well alone. Unfortunately this “copying out” style of adaptation means that the dialogue is exactly as written but sometimes loses important elements through its abbreviation. In the novel, characters frequently mean something entirely different to what they say, but you wouldn’t guess so in the film. Similarly, a lot of the novel’s wittiness is lost — unsurprising, as much is carried in Forster’s narration, which here is largely left unadapted. “Largely”, because chapter names occasionally intrude as intertitles or subtitles. These usually merely skip what would be a few lines of expositional dialogue, but occasionally they’re entirely pointless, and frequently are rendered meaningless by what would otherwise be minor tweaks to the plot. As I suggested at the start, however, a lot of these flaws are only blatant when placed in stark contrast with the novel.

Others aren’t. Julian Sands is disappointingly flat as love interest George Emerson, and he frequently drags Helena Bonham Carter down with him (and not in the “written by Andrew Davies” sense). In my opinion, Bonham Carter is the weak line in an otherwise flawless cast, neither acting nor looking much like my image of Lucy (Sands might not give much of a performance, but at least he looks the part, and Emerson is meant to be quite awkward). This could well be just my personal vision clashing with that of the filmmakers, of course, but there you have it. Those two aside, the rest of the cast are excellent: Maggie Smith and Judi Dench are note-perfect, especially in the handful of scenes they share (it’s a real shame Dench’s character disappears before the halfway mark); Daniel Day-Lewis is the right mix of comical, annoying and unfortunate truth as Cecil; and Simon Callow, Denholm Elliott and a young Rupert Graves are also perfect fits for their roles.

Finally, no Room with a review (ho ho) can be complete without praising how gorgeous Italy looks here. The camera lingers on the art and architecture more like a documentary than a fiction film, taking the viewer on a sightseeing tour just as much as the characters. There are essays to be written (indeed, they have been) on why such spectacle is a bad thing, but if you don’t want to be so pretentious then it’s wonderful to look at. Which, in many ways, sums up the entire film.

4 out of 5

Ratatouille (2007)

2008 #13
Brad Bird | 106 mins | DVD | U / G

RatatouilleMy 2007 catch-up continues with Pixar’s highly-praised and award-winning latest, which currently sits as that animation studio’s highest entry in the IMDb Top 250 (their only films not to feature are A Bug’s Life, Monsters, Inc. and Cars). It seems a bit unfair to begin this review on such a downbeat note, but I personally don’t find such a position deserved. As is all too frequently the case, Ratatouille has become another victim of hype.

It’s been pretty impossible to avoid the praise that’s been heaped upon Ratatouille, be it unanimously positive reviews in papers, magazines and online, or overheard conversations in public, or the numerous high-profile awards it’s garnered (most recently, the best animation Oscar, plus a nomination for original screenplay). I was left expecting to be blown away by the best Pixar film made thus far. Sadly, this was not to be. It’s not as funny as Finding Nemo, or Toy Story, or Toy Story 2, or probably The Incredibles. Nor is it as cute as many of them. Or quite as heartwarming, to be honest. And the characters aren’t really as lovable.

OK, this is getting too depressing. The thing is, Ratatouille is a good film, but it is also a flawed one. It’s not nearly funny enough for a kid’s movie — laughs are almost non-existent in the first half and hard to come by in the second — and it’s too long, needing a good chunk taken out of that duller first half. It’s a bit confused as to who the villain is, meaning there’s a lack of real menace from either of the candidates. Despite a professed aim to make rats lovable, they’re not really. Even the potential love story is lacklustre because they wind up together far too quickly.

There I go again with the negatives. I think it’s far too easy to spot the faults in Ratatouille because everyone else has done such a thorough job on the positives, so I’m stuck analysing why I was so disappointed. There’s no denying how gorgeous it looks though — I can’t think of another CG film that even comes close. The level of detail is stunning, not just in set design (which includes whole intricately designed locations just for seconds-long sequences) but also in terms of what’s going on in the background. Check out Remy’s first conversation with his dad at the rats’ new home in Paris, for example: a simple shot-reverse-shot dialogue scene with two characters, but there’s continuously other rats talking, moving past, and so on in the background — all out of focus, not trying to be showy, like natural background detail in a live action film. No other CG film with such attention to ‘pointless’ detail comes to mind. But it also allows itself to be what it is — for want of a better word, a cartoon. Linguini waves his arms about like rope when he’s out of control, the chase sequences are madness, the design of the humans, cars, and almost everything else are suitably stylised. And it all comes with a soft warm glow that is, frankly, beautiful.

Despite my criticisms, Ratatouille is nonetheless a four-star film as far as I’m concerned. I also think that, with its shortage of laughs and cute characters, and with the main areas of appreciation in facets such as cinematography, it’s more a movie for adult animation fans than children. It’s not Pixar’s best, but true to form it’s head and shoulders above most other CG animated fare. Approach it with lower expectations than most reviews would give you and perhaps you’ll enjoy it even more than I did.

4 out of 5

Jane Eyre (1944)

2008 #12
Robert Stevenson | 96 mins | download | PG

Jane EyreI was meant to read Jane Eyre in the first year of my degree, but, given a week to attempt what seemed a positively enormous tome (I partly blame the edition) and a coinciding essay deadline, I didn’t even attempt it. Instead I settled for a friend summarising it for me — I tuned out halfway through the very long retelling due to boredom, though whether that was the fault of the novel or its summariser I still don’t know. I finally got through Jane Eyre the year before last — not the novel, though, but the BBC’s apparently-definitive adaptation (has it been that long already!), following numerous extremely positive reviews at the time. That was good — because or in spite of the novel, I do not know.

And so I come to this version, made in the wake of Rebecca (ironically, a novel clearly inspired in part by Jane Eyre) and also starring Joan Fontaine, alongside Orson Welles as the brooding love interest, Rochester. Well, he’s supposed to be brooding, but as played by Welles he comes across as merely gruff, apparently with a slightly unusual fake tan. Despite a suitably dramatic entrance, Welles’ stilted and occasionally overplayed performance, as well as a lack of chemistry with the equally weak Fontaine, does nothing to liven up what is already a rather uninspired production. The first 20 minutes are, at best, a Dickens rip-off, though without the appropriate comeuppance for the villains; in this version, it’s less Dickens and more obscene Christian morality play, complete with flat performances and (obviously) an over-reliance on God.

This section moves slowly… and then so does the rest of the film. Considering I’m primarily comparing this hour-and-a-half version to a four-hour miniseries, that’s quite a feat. The plot’s twists and revelations are all sadly underplayed, removing much of their dramatic effect; the same can be said of the abrupt ending. Perhaps there was an assumption that the audience would already be familiar with them, but true or not their weakening helps ruin this interpretation. And that’s all without mentioning the atrocious French accent of Adele, Rochester’s young ward, which often sounds as much like a bad Welsh accent as a French one.

All round, then, a very poor effort. A handful of redeeming features (the odd nice bit of cinematography, brief flashes of some decent performances) keep it from quite sinking to the lowest mark.

2 out of 5

Ocean’s Thirteen (2007)

2008 #11
Steven Soderbergh | 117 mins | DVD | PG / PG-13

Ocean's ThirteenLast year I reviewed Ocean’s Twelve, and came to the conclusion that it had been slightly harshly treated by critics — while not a patch on the first film, it was a decent enough heist romp. Now it’s the turn of last year’s threequel and, by contrast, I found it to be distinctly overrated.

In fact, I’d personally put Thirteen at about the same level as Twelve. The return to both a Las Vegas setting and the first’s glossy cinematography seem to have fooled many into thinking it’s more like Eleven, but the convoluted and over-long plot (needlessly complicated by some chronologically variable storytelling), relative lack of humour, over-abundance of under-used characters, and lacklustre finale belie the truth.

Thirteen is Twelve with Eleven’s sheen. Its critical success relative to its immediate predecessor is, I think, another of the gang’s expertly executed cons.

3 out of 5