National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007)

Posted on May 30, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #56
2007 | Jon Turteltaub | 119 mins | DVD | PG / PG

I enjoyed the first National Treasure. There, I said it. I’ve wound up seeing it several times, somehow, and each time appreciated it as a fun romp. It’s not a fashionable film to like by any means, and it’s certainly derivative of all kinds of other things, not least The Da Vinci Code, but it’s an entertaining and consummate minor blockbuster.

National Treasure 2 (that’s this one, in case you didn’t know) essentially offers more of the same. That’s often levelled as a criticism, but in this instance it’s absolutely fine: Book of Secrets isn’t a rehash — there’s a new mystery with new puzzles — but is another adventure in the same vein, with clue-hunting and the occasional action sequence. Things are different, but it’s rather swings and roundabouts. For example, Ed Harris isn’t as fun a villain as Sean Bean, but he’s also suitably different, while on the other hand the London car chase bests any action sequence in the first film.

There’s also the usual sequel escalation: never mind just getting the Declaration of Independence, here Gates & co not only break into the Queen’s office in Buckingham Palace, they also kidnap the President of the United States (briefly. Sort of.) Yes, it’s wildly improbable, not only in the clue-laden treasure hunt but also the feats this three-person team pull off. But that’s half the fun. It doesn’t claim to be real — OK, it uses historical facts, but they’re to embellish its tale, in the same way many higher-class films have — it’s just an entertaining ride, with some exciting action, intriguing clues, and the odd bit of humour.

The cast are fine. The unforgiving will find Justin Bartha’s Riley irritating, but by making him a tad down on his luck and a little devoted to Gates he may endear himself to others. Aside from Ed Harris, Helen Mirren is the biggest addition, though both make little more than a cameo when there are so many other characters and plot points flying around. The main attraction of her role is pondering her accent — is it meant to be American? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps she was doing a very good job of being A Brit Who’s Lived In America For A Long Time, but that’s a mite too subtle for all the noise and bluster in a fast-paced conspiracy adventure-thriller.

There are plot holes and logic gaps and it rather leads you by the hand through it all, but none of these undermine what it’s really all about. Either that or I was in a particularly forgiving mood — even the thoroughly daft bit with the traffic camera didn’t bother me too much. It’s not the highest class of blockbuster, it won’t be remembered as fondly as Indiana Jones, or even the Pirates series, but there are worse ways to spend a couple of hours, particularly if all you want is a bit of well-made light entertainment.

If you enjoyed the original, I see little reason why you wouldn’t enjoy the sequel; conversely, if you didn’t like the first one… I’m sure you can finish that sentence. It’s the kind of film that would probably sit quite well on, say, a Bank Holiday afternoon. Which is a stroke of luck.

The UK TV premiere of National Treasure: Book of Secrets is on BBC One tomorrow, Bank Holiday Monday, at 4:35pm.

Coraline (2009)

Posted on May 28, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #53
Henry Selick | 100 mins | Blu-ray | PG / PG

I’ve only ever read one thing by Neil Gaiman. It’s not fan-favourite Neverwhere, nor the previously-adapted Stardust. It’s not Hugo-winners American Gods or The Graveyard Book, nor the Hugo-withdrawn Anansi Boys. It’s not any of Sandman. It’s not even Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?, his take on Batman.

And it’s not Coraline either.

Which is a shame, because either that or “I’ve never read anything by Neil Gaiman” would have made much better introductions. Indeed, the latter was my original plan, but honesty overcame me — I’ve read his graphic novel/miniseries Marvel 1602. And I just remembered that I’ve also read Good Omens, the novel he co-wrote with Terry Pratchett. So much for my neat little introduction.

But regardless of one’s familiarity with Gaiman, his work comes recommended. Coraline alone won a Hugo, Nebula and Stoker, while the film adaptation was Oscar-nominated (naturally it lost to whichever Pixar film was eligible) and widely well reviewed (an 89% Tomatometer). All of which seems to set it up for a fall. But like, say, The Dark Knight*, it manages to fulfil its promise — Coraline, in short, is excellent.

Where to begin? Well, Coraline is a fairytale, really, albeit a modern one — it doesn’t come at you with princesses or witches or talking animals, but Volkswagens and new homes and stairlifts (all or none of those may be significant to the plot). The fact it’s a fairytale is perhaps neither here nor there, though I do think it pushes aside some logic complaints I’ve seen levelled against the film — do we need a villain’s origins, for example? No, not here. I’m not saying Coraline uses its fairytale basis as an excuse to toss aside narrative sense, just that, if viewed through the prism of “fairytale story rules” rather than “real-world fantasy story rules” some viewers may have been more forgiving. Also, I’m digressing into a critical blind alley.

It’s also a Proper fairytale, by which I mean two things: one, it has a moral message; two, it’s scary. Very scary, in places. For much of the film there’s a beautiful creepy atmosphere, enhanced by drifting fog and skewed camera angles, but towards the end — when (I write while trying not to spoil too much) the full truth of the Other Mother is revealed — it’s not just kids who are likely to be freaked out. Dark themes and situations abound, though the full implications of some are pared back or glossed past, probably with good reason. Coraline is a “kid’s film” but, like writer/director Henry Selick’s previous The Nightmare Before Christmas or much of Pixar’s output, it’s as least as enjoyable for adults.

And as for the moral subtext… well, it may be very familiar — “be careful what you wish for” and/or “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone” — but Gaiman and Selick certainly have a new, fantastical, mythical spin on it. Some critics say the story is arranged from plot points seen elsewhere and lacks originality, but then critics of everything say that because every story has roots in another. Coraline’s telling displays more than enough originality to keep it going, thankyouverymuch.

The animation, however, is an undeniable triumph. Set and character designs are gorgeous; the stop-motion movement is fluid, nuanced and detailed; the numerous technical accomplishments impressive. Sequence after sequence dazzles, each more magical — or frightening — than the last. Even if you want to criticise the story or characters, I find it hard to believe anyone could watch this and not enjoy much or all of it on a visual level. And if you don’t — honestly, are you sure you like films?

Only occasionally is one reminded that Coraline was filmed in 3D, when things poke out towards the screen or sink deep into it; but it’s not gratuitous, and if you didn’t know it was designed for 3D you might not even notice. The flattened sets and awkward perspective of the real world, versus the depth and beauty of the Other one, are still conveyed well in 2D. (I’ve had a brief look at the 3D version contained on the Blu-ray disc and will report my views on that another time, when I’ve attempted to watch it in full.)

Much like the animation, Bruno Coulais’ score is hauntingly beautiful. OK, it’s undoubtedly Elfman-esque, but it fits the film to a tee. Also in the audio realm (yes, this is a tenuous link to join two brief comments in a single paragraph), the voice cast are all spot-on, from seasoned pros like French and Saunders to bright young thing Dakota Fanning. Some may take issue with her vocal, or the character, but… well, allow me to employ a longer paragraph:

Reading some other reviews and their comments, it becomes apparent that one’s opinion of the film may depend a little on one’s opinion of Coraline herself. Roger Ebert, for example, considers her to be “not a nice little girl… unpleasant, complains, has an attitude and makes friends reluctantly”, though he notes that “it’s fine with me that Coraline is an unpleasant little girl. It would be cruelty to send Pippi Longstocking down that tunnel, but Coraline deserves it. Maybe she’ll learn a lesson.” For me, however, Coraline is an independent and strong-willed individual with good reason for most of her grievances. Does she need to learn a lesson? Undoubtedly. This is a fairytale, after all, and lesson-learning is more-or-less the point. Perhaps if you think Coraline is unlikeable and deserves the woes heaped upon her you’ll like the film less (I should add that Ebert gave it three-out-of-four, however); but if you get on with the character — and I’m certain many among the film’s supposed target audience, kids, would — then she’s a likeable companion to learn the story’s lesson with.

In general, I’m unconvinced by the criticisms I’ve read. Even those who assert it’s too scary for children tend to have shown it to kids who were too young — please, think about what Parental Guidance actually means before you go showing a PG to a three-year-old. All I can end with is a reiteration of my earlier comment: Coraline, in short, is excellent.

* I’m well aware I could choose any number of classic films whose reputation precedes them. The Dark Knight, however, is similar to Coraline in that it’s a recent release where we’re looking at a year or two of praise & rewards rather than decades of considered thought. Ergo, it’s a better point of reference.

~~Coraline begins on Sky Movies Premiere today at 10am and 5:30pm, and is on every day at various times until Thursday 10th June.~~

It placed 6th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2010, which can be read in full here.

Taken (2008)

Posted on May 25, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #48
Pierre Morel | 93 mins | Blu-ray | 18

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

So goes Liam Neeson’s famous (ish) mission statement in the latest (ish) action-thriller from the team behind The Transporter series. You need know little more of the plot, though it still takes half an hour to get to that little speech.

If you do want to know more of the plot… well, remember Man On Fire? The Tony Scott/Denzel Washington one (I presume the older one’s the same, but I’ve not seen it). Well, replace Washington with Neeson and Dakota Fanning’s character with “his daughter” and you’ve more or less got it. Taken is practically a remake, only in Europe, with a happier ending, and an hour shorter. It’s also not as good, but that’s a different matter.

You may be wondering why it takes a half-hour to get to that mission statement. Well, Man On Fire style, it’s because we’re treated to a significant chunk of character-based drama before the kidnapping occurs. This stuff at the beginning is either Character Deepening and Motivation Revealing or just dull and needless, depending on your point of view. And while I’m all for character and motivation and all the other stuff that actually makes A Good Script rather than A Series Of Scenes, I’m inclined towards the latter here, because of the comparison with Man On Fire.

The Scott film showed us a character (this would be Washington) who’d shut down emotionally, who had nothing to care about. He meets a girl who he has to protect; that’s his job. But she brings him out of his shell, gives him a reason to live, to genuinely care about her rather than as a means to a pay-packet. And then she’s taken and he hunts those SOBs down. This is character building. In Taken, we’re shown an ex-CIA-or-something dad who loves his daughter. We spend half an hour being shown this. Then she’s taken and he goes after those SOBs.

See the difference? Washington has to go from point A to point C via point B before he’s ready to go on his killing spree/rescue mission. Neeson goes from point A to point A. Establishing he’s an ex-CIA-or-something dad who loves his daughter would take five minutes — indeed, it does, there’s just Some Other Stuff too — but the action portion of the film lasts less than an hour, so something needs to make it feature length, right? There’s nothing wrong with the early dramatic scenes in themselves — Neeson is an excellent actor, he could work this material in his sleep — but they’re needless for the real story.

So what of the real story? Well, at times it feels like someone filmed a treatment — once underway it’s all plot, action and not much else. Characters arrive only to be quickly dispatched, either because their purpose is served — the Albanian translator, for example — or in a body bag — which is nearly everyone else. In many ways it has an admirable efficiency — the plot is an action delivery system, not a proper story — but after half an hour spent setting things up, it’s like screenwriters Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen felt they’d done their dramatic dues and just wanted to watch people get beaten up. Or shot. Or blown up. Or hit by trucks.

The action sequences are quite good. The thing is, Neeson’s an Actor, not a martial arts expert or glorified stuntman. He beats people up fine, he shoots a gun fine, he drives a car fine, but he can’t show the physical dexterity of Jason Statham in The Transporter, never mind Jackie Chan/Jet Li/insert Eastern star of preference here. The fights entertain while they last in the way any above-competent action movie is, but there’s nothing distinctive about any of them to raise them to a level where they’ll be remembered. And that’s pretty much fine, just not special.

Not to criticise director Pierre Morel, though. Largely pointless though they may be, there’s nothing wrong with his handling of the earlier scenes, and the same goes for the later ones. Visually he gives the film a slickness and sheen that seems to lift it slightly above Besson-and-co’s other recent Euro-American action/thrillers. Or that might just be because it’s the first I’ve watched on Blu-ray. (Incidentally, is it me or are the subtitles ineffective on the UK disc? None of the French or Arabic was subbed — and it seems it’s meant to be, because the English HOH track has it so. I was reduced to flicking that on and off every time someone spoke Foreign, which is A Pain. And rarely worth it. The special features seem to suffer a similar defect too.)

Despite all this, Taken’s an entertaining actioner. Unsurprisingly, there’s something satisfying about an apparently calm and controlled father being allowed to explode in precision violence against a bunch of scumbag white slavers. It’s wish fulfilment; proper justice finally being done. And, for extra gratification, he’s got the requisite spy skills — the bit with the radio and walkie-talkie, for example — and, even better, edge — perhaps the film’s most memorable moment (after that speech, anyway), when he shows the lengths he’ll go to when visiting a ‘friend’ for dinner.

If you think about it too much post-viewing, Taken begins to fall apart. Quickly. But for nearly 90 minutes while Liam Neeson shows those Evil Eastern Europeans who’s boss, it’s action-packed wish-fulfilment of the morally satisfying variety. Either that or bile-filled hate-driven xenophobic venom. Each to their own.

Seraphim Falls (2006)

Posted on May 24, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #30
David Von Ancken | 107 mins | TV | 15 / R

Seraphim Falls sees Liam Neeson and a crew of hired hands chase Pierce Brosnan across every Old West landscape imaginable — from snow-topped mountains to bone-dry dustbowl — but why?

In practice, it makes for an unusual story. It’s centred neatly around Neeson chasing Brosnan, but the encounters they have along the way are increasingly bizarre. It’s readily apparent that there’s some Meaning and Subtext here, one that’s somehow related to religion (note the title; the missionaries; the destroyed Bible; the journey from somewhere high and calm, down through peoples of slipping moral standards, to the heat-hazy finale), but I’m not sure if one has to process this to appreciate the film — it’s a still a chase movie (of sorts) after all.

Indeed, one may not even notice all the allegories until Angelica Houston turns up, like some kind of inexplicable but convenient phantom, shortly before the final showdown. Who is she? What are her motives? What does it matter? (Her name’s a pun/clue, but I’ll leave that for you to notice/read on IMDb’s forum. Suffice to say, it fits with the other themes.)

Most characters are painted in quick sketches, and as soon as you get an inkling for who they are they’re dead or gone. The only exceptions are (of course) Neeson and Brosnan, who remain ambiguous for much of the film. The truth behind their chase is only revealed near the end, once most everyone else has fallen by the wayside. As the only constants, the various situations and their reactions allow the men to be slowly revealed. It’s not really a character piece, but they’re at least more complicated than your usual Good Guy vs Bad Guy setup — the story has you flip back and forth about which you think is which several times.

Subtly beautiful cinematography complements everything. Without being showy or overtly stylish, DP John Toll gets the most out of the film’s diametrically opposed locations: the lush, snow-drenched mountains of the first half, and the dry, barren dustbowls of the second, not to mention the burning autumnal tones of briefly-seen Seraphim Falls itself. Having caught this in SD, I look forward to watching it again on Blu-ray.

Though at times ponderously slow, the fact that Seraphim Falls contains an easily-understood driving plot alongside suggestions of a Deeper Meaning means it’s both accessible and relatively satisfying, even if its allegories pass you by. Conversely, the eventual dependence on these themes rather than a clear-cut finale may leave anyone who hoped for a straight chase/revenge story a bit miffed.

Seraphim Falls is on BBC Two tonight, Saturday 9th August 2014, at 11pm.

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

Posted on May 20, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #47
Andrew Adamson | 150 mins | Blu-ray | PG / PG

The Pevensie children return to Narnia, but hundreds of years later, in Disney’s last adaptation from C.S. Lewis’ series (don’t worry, Fox have taken it over). For those keeping track, this is both the second book and second film, but fourth chronicle chronologically. Which is fine for now, but I wonder what they’ll do come those earlier-set ones…

This time out, the world of Narnia has a harder edge. We’re still in PG territory — just — but everything’s turned a bit nasty, with a race of humans having wiped out the fantastical Narnians. Or (naturally) so they thought. Throw in some moderate political intrigue and you’ve got a more grown-up feel, if only slightly. It also makes for a slightly more cohesive tale — there are no odd elements leaking through from our world, like lampposts or Father Christmas, though one can well argue this removes something of Narnia’s unique magic.

It’s perhaps overlong, with numerous places trims could be made without denting the overall story. A half hour could surely have been saved without too much exertion. The first hour in particular is a tad slow, though the sometimes-wordy plot, based around some light court intrigue, adds depth beyond what might otherwise be a series of humans-on-magical-creatures punch-ups. I can’t comment on faithfulness here because it’s an awfully long time since I read the books. Besides, that running time is distorted by a whopping 12 minutes of end credits. I vaguely recall that, a few years ago, the second Matrix film held the record for the longest closing credits at 10 minutes. I don’t really know what’s common these days but 12 minutes is nonetheless 8% of the film.

Once the human squabbling is passed — or by-passed, depending on your point of view — the human-Narnian war/one big battle really kicks off. Indeed, action sequences are frequent and fantastic throughout. The raid on the castle is tense, exciting and ultimately devastating — the troops left behind to certain slaughter is an incredibly dark moment in a PG-rated kids’ film. Later, a climactic sword fight is well staged, making excellent use of point-of-view shots, something I don’t recall seeing in a sword fight before.

The epic final battle comes as close to rivalling Helm’s Deep as anything I can think of, albeit — in typical Narnia style — in broad daylight on a big field. It has a real story to it, with specific moves being made by each side in the name of an overall strategy, rather than just A Lot Of Good Guys charging at A Lot Of Bad Guys and hacking away ’til one side wins, the apparent battle tactic in most other such large encounters on film.

The child actors aren’t going to set the world alight but are perfectly decent. I’m still not fully sold on Liam Neeson as Aslan, though I suppose the contrast of boom and gentility may be the point. Eddie Izzard is sadly underused as the excellent Reepicheep, who comes across as Narnia’s answer to Shrek 2’s Puss in Boots. Everyone else is fine — if nothing stands out, there is at least humour and an appropriate level of villainy provided.

Perhaps shortages such as this make the film a rather empty experience, as some have claimed. Not even titular new boy Caspian is treated to a huge amount of characterisation, and what little there is elsewhere depends wholly on knowledge of the first film. In fact, while the primary story largely stands alone, a proper understanding of it relies on the viewer remembering the previous instalment — at no point does anyone bother to explicitly explain that these kids we’ve just followed into Narnia are siblings, never mind that they were there before for decades as Kings and Queens. Maybe this is respecting your audience’s intelligence, or maybe it’s just counting on their memory a bit too much. With only limited characterisation and basic political complications, Prince Caspian really boils down to a series of fights and battles. Nicely done fights and battles, I’d argue, but still, no one’s coming away from this particularly enriched.

I was quite disappointed with the first Narnia in the end. It was entertaining and at times fun, but the primary-coloured bloodless climax in particular made it feel like Lord of the Rings Lite. I know I’m not alone in this — with the teaser poster for the next film, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, coming out last week, I noticed a number of sites commenting that they’d not bothered with the second film after disliking the first; box office numbers were down too (though it’s still the 108th highest grossing film ever). Loyalty to a series I enjoyed as a child ensures my return (albeit two years after the theatrical release) but it’s a shame others chose to pass it by, because Prince Caspian is a step-up from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in pure entertainment stakes. Hopefully this tone continues into Dawn Treader and, fingers crossed, the four chronicles beyond.

Waitress (2007)

Posted on May 18, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #31
Adrienne Shelly | 103 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

Whenever a star, director, writer, or other key creative dies during or around the production of a film, it’s apparently tempting to draw some kind of correlation between their death and the themes or content of their work. To force such a link between the murder of writer/director/co-star Adrienne Shelly and Waitress seems inappropriate, however, when the film is so much about life.

The basic plot could be made to sound identical to Juno’s, if one really wanted (I don’t though, so this won’t): Keri Russell (TV’s Felicity) plays titular waitress Jenna, a genius creator of delicious pies, who finds herself unwelcomely pregnant after a drunken night with her controlling, abusive husband Earl (Jeremy Sisto, TV’s Kidnapped). When Jenna visits her (female) doctor, she’s been replaced by (male) Dr Pomatter (Nathan Fillion, TV’s Firefly), an awkward, slightly bumbling man who, to cut the story slightly short, she falls for and they begin to have an affair — despite his being married (to fellow doctor Francine (Darby Stanchfield, TV’s Mad Men)).

Jenna tries to keep her pregnancy secret from Earl, with the support of her friends Becky (Cheryl Hines, TV’s Curb Your Enthusiasm), who has a secret of her own, and Dawn (Shelly), who’s being stalked by her one-time five-minute-date Ogie (Eddie Jemison, TV’s Hung). And she tries to keep her affair with Dr Pomatter secret from everyone, though it seems she can’t hide anything from perceptive elderly diner-owner Joe (Andy Griffith, TV’s Matlock).

I know I recently said I don’t give plot descriptions, but it’s these threads that illuminate Waitress’ life-affirming themes. Becky and Dawn show there’s hope for happiness with whatever hand you’ve been dealt, even where you least expect it; Ogie, Joe (and diner chef Cal (TV’s occasional guest star Lew Temple)) show you can’t judge a book by its cover; Joe also offers Jenna the gift of premature hindsight thanks to his reminisces and regrets; and then there’s the baby, who, aside from the obvious, represents fresh starts. None of these are hammered home quite as bluntly as I have here — not even the baby one — but my observations show, I suppose, what I took from them.

Though every performance excels, Shelly’s screenplay is the real star. To bring up the Juno similarity again, it features a quite idiosyncratic style of dialogue, particularly when delivered through the cast’s Southern accents. It’s also very funny, but never allows this to interfere with the more serious elements. Some have criticised it for putting so much levity near such tragic topics; I can only assume they live in a different world to our’s, presumably one where either everything is punctuated by a laughter track or one where everything is underscored by Coldplay.

From its promotional material and vaguest of outlines (Keri Russell leaves unhappy marriage for lovely Nathan Fillion!), Waitress looks like another breezy rom-com, the kind of thing that stars Jennifer Aniston — a chick flick, or to sound inappropriately less derogatory, “woman’s film”. Waitress is a “woman’s film”, but in a good way: written and directed from a female perspective, with its central roles being female, it doesn’t pander to a perceived female demographic and nor does it bellow “this is what we women think, and it’s so different to you damn men” — it’s more subtle than that.

Kathryn Bigelow won the Oscar by beating men at their own game — and that was probably for the best as a first-timer, dodging accusations of “well, she just made a woman’s film, didn’t she?” from the off — but hopefully it’s nudged the door open for female voices on a wider range of subjects. To slightly go against what I said in that opening paragraph, it’s a loss that Adrienne Shelly won’t get a chance to be among them.

The UK TV premiere of Waitress is on Film4 tomorrow at 9pm.
Waitress is on Film4 +1 today, Monday 28th July 2014, at 7:50pm.

Righteous Kill (2008)

Posted on May 16, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #46
Jon Avnet | 101 mins | Blu-ray | 15 / R

You remember Righteous Kill, right? It’s the film that reunited De Niro and Pacino, only the second time they’d appeared on screen together. And while the first, Heat, offered just one scintillating scene, Righteous Kill presented them as a police partnership — loads of scenes together! For a certain generation of film fans — several generations, probably — this just screams potential.

And what you’ll also remember is that it got slated. Thoroughly. Its Tomatometer is a measly 20%, and if you narrow that to ‘Top Critics’ — i.e. people/magazines that can usually be relied upon — it drops to a shockingly low 9%. It’s hard to find a good word said about it anywhere, although the pull quotes on Rotten Tomatoes are worth reading just to see Sky News’ contribution: in a field of quotes bursting with negative words, Tim Evans tries to assert not only that “it’s an effective whodunnit but — more importantly — it poses refined, complex questions about how the law operates in a so-called civilised society.”

Critics can be wrong, of course. It’s all a matter of opinion, and all that. But this time, they’re really not.

So what’s wrong with Righteous Kill? Well, it’s dull. Properly dull — not slow, not measured, not leisurely — just dull. Director Jon Avnet tries to spice things up occasionally with some swishy camerawork or editing, apparently forgetting he’s lensing a procedural thriller about a pair of 60-something cops and not Miami Vice 2. Suffice to say, it doesn’t work; if anything, it makes it worse.

The plot is confused in its telling. Events appear to jump around with random flashbacks and forwards, but it’s actually mostly linear… except the scenes so disconnected that you’re left trying to work out what’s happening at what point even when it’s just happening in order. Screenwriter Russell Gewirtz was previously responsible for penning Inside Man, where a little of this kind of playing worked. Perhaps it’s Avnet’s fault, then; perhaps Gewirtz is a one hit wonder.

The film plays like a procedural/whodunnit as the cops try to work out who the serial killer might be. Except we know who it is from early on. Except Avnet muddles things so much that we’re not sure we know after all. Is this going to a be twist, just really badly hidden? No, it isn’t. So why not just own up to it and do a proper howcatchem, or psychological study, or whatever? Well, there is a twist, actually. But by the time we’ve worked out that we’re meant to know who the killer is all along, anyone passingly film literate will be beginning to realise there will be a twist — too many hoops are being jumped through in some scenes to cover up something we’re being explicitly told in others.

I’m trying not to give too much away here — goodness knows why, because I heartily recommend you never waste your time on this. Even if you can forgive the boringly convoluted plot, there’s nothing else to latch on to. The film’s at its best when focusing on the De Niro/Pacino pairing, granting us the occasional good scene. Or just line — every little helps. But there’s not enough of that and too much of the dross. Other characters come and go with near-random irregularity, subplots are abandoned, or if they were resolved I missed it, and there are so many clichés you wish the DVD came with a spotters’ guide — at least ticking them off would give you something to do.

There are good elements buried here, or at least passable ones. The twist, for example, could work beautifully if it had been executed better. Which is slightly ironic, because one gets the feeling many other choices in the story and direction were dictated by needing to make that reversal work. “Oops.”

Righteous Kill, then, is messy and largely dull, with the odd bit that makes you not totally regret giving it some time. Perhaps with the right team the good parts could’ve been marshalled into something broadly effective. In fact, I’m certain they could be, because there’s proof that at least the premise can work: it’s a TV series called Dexter. Watch that instead, it’s immeasurably better.

Righteous Kill featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2010, which can be read in full here.

The September Issue (2009)

Posted on May 12, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #26
R.J. Cutler | 86 mins | TV | 12 / PG-13

I don’t really care about fashion, which means I really don’t care about Fashion — i.e. the world inhabited by Vogue and its American edition’s infamous editor, Anna Wintour. But I did watch The Devil Wears Prada and quite enjoyed it, while this documentary comes well-praised. And after all, what’s documentary for if not to educate you on a subject you know nothing about?

The September Issue, as it turns out, is surprisingly enjoyable. Is it illuminating? I’m not sure, though some bits are occasionally fascinating — director R.J. Cutler’s handful of interview snippets with Wintour are well-chosen; brief but potentially revealing, even as she does her best to given nothing away.

There’s no narration — nothing is rammed home. It occasionally feels free-form, a collection of bits and pieces about the making of one issue. But narratives form themselves amongst this, like the relationship between Wintour and Grace Coddington, her chief… I forget the job title, but it’s something magazine-designer-y.

Grace is, perhaps, the real star of the film. While Wintour floats around unknowably (though Cutler and co do their best to get under her skin, and manage to dig some information out in the process), it’s Grace who is frankest with the camera, who reveals her somewhat tragic past, who stands before a garden in Paris and is lost to memory staring at its beauty. She’s a wise centre for the film: Wintour, one suspects, will always be unknowable, a figurehead more than a person; but Grace is relatable, as human as the rest of us.

And actually, Wintour isn’t the most irritating person here; not when you’ve got ludicrous fashion stereotypes like André Leon Talley drifting in and out. This in spite of her opening assertion, apparently designed to drive away all non-Fashion-fans right from the off. No, love, not everyone secretly wishes they were part of your world; not everyone secretly thinks it’s the height of sophistication and glamour and only criticises it because they can’t get in on it.

Even after a whole film that does something to reconfigure her as slightly more human, and to repaint the industry as occasionally relatable, coming back to that introductory drum-beating still grates. But the rest is, somewhat surprisingly, worth it.

See also the accompanying short, The Met Ball.

Speed Racer (2008)

Posted on May 10, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #21
The Wachowski Brothers | 135 mins | Blu-ray | PG / PG

Speed Racer feels like an unfair place to kick off these half-arsed efforts because, despite the critical and commercial apathy it found on release, I really enjoyed it. This close to giving it 5 stars, I was. Still, it’s my oldest unreviewed film (from this year), so…

Firstly, it’s visually astounding. Speed Racer’s blocks of vibrant colour and computer whizzery are a natural fit for the modern digital experience. Action sequences are mind-meltingly fast, but also incredibly thrilling. When CGI is blatantly used in an attempt to fake something real it can leave an action sequence hollow; but here, everything is pushed to the limit — and, probably, beyond — and so it works.

The plot doesn’t have many twists or turns — at least, not any that are genuinely surprising — and yet it rarely feels boring or stale. It’s buoyed by the crazy action sequences, the likeable characters, the unabashed sense of fun that’s poured into every sequence. Little flourishes mark the film out: the Hallelujah moment with the sweets on the plane; Racer X’s delivery of a simple punch amongst a bevy of complex car stunts; numerous others lost to my memory.

Even some of the performances stand out, not something you’d expect from such a (for want of a better word) lightweight tale. Of particular note are Susan Sarandon as Mom and Christina Ricci’s Trixie, whose huge eyes help render her perhaps one of the most perfect live-action versions of an anime character ever seen. Yes, the characters mostly exist to service their place in the plot, but the odd scene or glance or line delivery adds some subtlety here and there.

The mediocre-to-bad reviews Speed Racer received on its initial release seek to chastise you if you happen to like it — look, Ebert’s already informed us why we’re wrong should we even attempt claims of artistic integrity in the Wachowskis’ work. Maybe he’s right — he can list a whole load of commercial tie-ins at the end, after all. Then again, this is the man who gave Phantom Menace half-a-star shy of full marks, a film that was only a little about story and quite a bit about tie-in merchandise if ever there was one (he awarded Revenge of the Sith the same, incidentally, and has included the granddaddy of all film-tie-in-tat, Star Wars itself, in his Great Movies series). And, to specifically rubbish his opinions here, Phantom Menace is praised for being “made to be looked at more than listened to… filled with wonderful visuals” and condemns Speed Racer because “whatever information that passes from your retinas to your brain is conveyed through optical design and not so much through more traditional devices such as dialogue, narrative, performance or characterization… you could look at it with the sound off and it wouldn’t matter.” Not that Film’s unique factor (over novels or radio or what have you) is its visual sense, and a silent film that can be told through image alone, devoid of any intertitles, was once a lofty aim. I’m sure Ebert could readily explain why Phantom Menace’s visual splendour is a good thing and why Speed Racer’s is so terrible, but, on the other hand… pot, meet kettle.

(For a point of clarity, I normally like and agree with Ebert — I’m sure some previous reviews where I’ve cited him will attest to this — which is why I pick on his pair of opinions here rather than those of some lesser critic who can’t be expected to maintain a critical ideology from one film to the next, never mind two that sit almost a decade apart.)

Back to Speed Racer. In every respect it’s like a living cartoon, and it’s the Wachowskis’ commitment to this aesthetic in every single respect that makes it work where others have floundered. It’s not perfect, I suppose. It may run a little long at two-and-a-quarter hours; but then, it so rarely lets up that I didn’t mind a jot. And the kid is often annoying; but then, as annoying little kids in films go, I’ve seen worse. At times I even liked him.

But, all things considered, when the chips are down, with all said and done, and any other clichés you feel like listing for no particular reason, I found this to be a candy-coloured masterpiece.

The UK TV premiere of Speed Racer is on Channel 5 today, Sunday 26th October 2014, at 6:20pm.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)

Posted on May 4, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #16
Dave Filoni | 98 mins | Blu-ray | PG / PG

The Clone Wars can boast an awful lot of firsts within the Star Wars franchise: the first animated Star Wars in cinemas, the first not to feature Frank Oz as Yoda, the first not to open in May, the first not to have a text-crawl intro… It’s also the first not to open at number one at the box office. None of these facts are likely to endear itself to die-hard Star Wars fans. I’m not one, but it did little to endear itself to me either.

Things go wrong immediately. For fans, the Warner Bros. logo is horrendously incongruous (so I’m told — the original six films were all released by Fox), but for even the casual viewer there’s something seriously odd within minutes: no opening text crawl! This is meant to be Star Wars? Instead, a chunk of exposition — which sounds exactly like the opening crawl would, and so has clearly been designed to replace it — is read over a montage of the events it describes. Do they think children can’t read? In fairness, I’ve been to Star Wars screenings where there were children young enough that parents were having to read the crawl to their kids… but considering the live action films are “kids’ movies” too (as Lucas was so keen to remind us when everyone hated the prequels), surely what’s good enough for them is good enough for this?

Omissions such as this could be forgiven if more important aspects went well. But they don’t. The script is so good it could’ve been written by George Lucas himself. There are too many weak dialogue exchanges to even consider listing them, but Ahsoka’s habit of calling R2-D2 “Artooey” is memorably grating. Much of the voice acting is just as bad, with James Arnold Taylor’s Obi Wan accent particularly off-centre. Catherine Taber’s Padmé impression is probably the most convincing of the lot and, coincidentally sharing the same scenes, Corey Burton’s Truman Capote impression as Ziro the Hutt is entertainingly obvious. Count Dooku doesn’t particularly benefit from the involvement of Christopher Lee, but at least Samuel L. Jackson is vaguely recognisable lending his actual voice to Mace Windu. Most of the cast deliver the kind of performance you typically find in kids’ cartoons — i.e. not all that good, no doubt due to the pressures of producing as many episodes as possible as cheaply as possible. Dubious line readings abound, though in fairness this may be down to the awkward lines they’re forced to deliver.

In between the poor dialogue there are plenty of action sequences. The first battle is a bit dull: masses of troops just firing at each other, until the bad guys suddenly decide that actually they ought to retreat because of the cannons — cannons that have been firing on them throughout. At least the repeat performance ten minutes later features some tactics and diversions. Later fights are better, though not by a huge amount. There are certainly a fair few, though there’s little real variation between them. The big battles and space dogfights are adequate, if lacking in focus, but the lightsaber duels miss the heft of their live-action equivalents, animation robbing them of the physical skill involved in a real sword fight (even if those in the prequels involve a fair degree of CGI themselves). The much-trumpeted vertical battle is a great idea that’s competently executed, but the change in perspective is too little used — apart from the odd moment or shot, they may as well be progressing slowly on a horizontal plane.

All of these sequences are scored by stock-sounding ‘epic action music’. Kevin Kiner’s music is nothing like as original or distinctive as John Williams’ work on the main series. Other than re-using some of Williams’ themes, it’s a rather generic action score — perfectly pleasant for what it is, but not particularly memorable. A slight remix of the main Star Wars theme gives the opening a distinctive air… as if the Warner Bros. logo, war talk over the Lucasfilm logo, and lack of text crawl didn’t do the job by themselves.

The animation itself is certainly stylised, which annoys some, but then it’s not billed as an Avatar-esque “it’s real, honest” style, or even the lower level achieved (if one can call it an achievement) by Beowulf. It’s surely a sensible decision — look how far from real Beowulf turned out to be on a feature budget and timescale, and when you’re churning out a weekly series (as this was always intended to be) such aspirations as photo-real CGI are far too lofty, not to mention expensive. Personally, I quite like the style. The painterly textures are slightly odd, but probably preferable to flat slabs of colour, while the cartoonisation of the cast (allegedly inspired by Thunderbirds) fits the lightweight tone and keeps things visually interesting. Besides, as noted, the visual style is the least of the film’s problems.

It may sound like a piece of trivia that this was originally conceived as three episodes of the TV series that now follows it, but where the breaks would fall is disappointingly clear — note, for example, that at around 25 minutes the first battle is won, Anakin resolves himself to teach the Padawan he previously objected to, and Yoda arrives to kick off the next part of the story. It could only be more like the end of an episode if credits rolled. It’s also the apparent need to fit two or three action sequences per episode that keeps them coming at regular intervals in a film which sticks three back-to-back.

There’s an overarching plot, thank goodness, which is immediately established… before being put on hold for half-an-hour while the events of what-would-have-been-episode-one play out: a battle that isn’t particularly significant in itself and has absolutely no relevance to the rest of the story, immediately betraying the three-episode origins. After that’s done the main plot resumes in two clearly-divisible chunks — the precise moment of the second transition isn’t as obvious as the first, but which subplots belong to which half is. Maybe the story joins are invisible to those who don’t know the production’s history or something of narrative structure (i.e. normal people), but they were blatant to me. It particularly shows in the final act/third episode, as the story switches from epic battle sequences to some out-of-nowhere political wrangling and lower-key lightsaber-based confrontations.

Although it has high-quality animation, a largely cinematic scale, particularly in the battles, and direction that isn’t as obviously TV-only as some TV-bound productions, The Clone Wars still feels like watching a compilation of TV episodes rather than a film in its own right. It’s partly the episode structures that remain unconcealed, partly the shortage of real voice talent indicating a lower budget, partly the relative insignificance of the story — it just doesn’t have the epic quality that imbued all the other Star Wars films. Not every film has to be an epic, even ones set within the same universe/storyline, but by wheeling out all the main characters and then showing them complete just one moderately low-key mission, The Clone Wars does feel like a single instalment of a TV series and not an appropriately-scaled cinematic experience.

This might’ve made a pretty strong set of opening episodes to a half-hour TV show, and I hear the series has gotten quite good as its first season progressed. If that’s true, it’s a shame such a weak beginning will have put so many off giving it a go, because as a standalone film The Clone Wars falls far short.

100Films.co.uk

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

Category Archives: 2000s