Wallander: Before the Frost (2005)

Posted on November 18, 2009 by badblokebob

aka Mankell’s Wallander: Innan Frosten

2009 #74
Kjell-Åke Andersson | 93 mins | TV | 15

You’re likely familiar with Swedish police detective Kurt Wallander — in passing if not in detail — from the Kenneth Branagh-starring BBC series broadcast at the end of last year (a second series has just finished filming). For the sake of omitting excusatory clauses from the next paragraph, I’ll assume that’s all you know (not that I mean to sound like an expert, because, well, I’m not).

Wallander is adapted from a series of novels by Swedish author Henning Mankell, previously filmed in their original language, between 1994 and 2007, as a series of TV movies starring Rolf Lassgård. A different series of Swedish Wallander films began in 2005 — so, concurrent with the TV adaptations — featuring Krister Henriksson as the titular detective in original stories based on plots by Mankell. Three of these thirteen films received a theatrical release, the remainder going direct to DVD. It’s this latter series that BBC Four are currently halfway through showing, and it’s their theatrical releases that will see three of them reviewed as part of 100 Films 2009.

Before the Frost is the first of this series, and is actually an exception: where the others are original stories, this is adapted from a spin-off novel starring Wallander’s daughter, newly-qualified policewoman Linda Wallander. This leaves Kurt as something of a guest star in the first episode of his own series, but we still see enough of Henriksson to get a feel for his Wallander. Where Branagh is soul-searching, constantly staring silently into the distance, occasionally with a few tears for company, Henriksson is just a guy trying to do his job; struggling to be a good dad and maybe struggling with his health, but still a regular guy. Maybe the introspection and crying come later.

As the de facto lead, Johanna Sällström gets the best of the material. Linda’s troubled relationship with her father, including her decision to work in the same station as him when she could’ve gone anywhere but, are major threads. Sällström plays this central contradiction well, only occasionally (and, thankfully, briefly) slipping down into stroppy teenager histrionics, such as when she storms away from a crime scene early on. As Linda’s friend Anna, Ellen Mattsson also has daddy issues to contend with, though sadly they’re underwritten by comparison. Nonetheless, her significant role is finely portrayed.

Sadly, the majority of the detective story isn’t up to the personal relationships. The villains turn out to be Evil Christians — always a good enemy in my book — with a variety of nefarious plans that lead the story to touch (briefly) on hot-topic issues like abortion, single-parent artificial insemination, and same-sex marriage. While a British or American drama might feel the need to include more of a debate about the morals of such acts, here they seem accepted as a right that the Evil Christians want to steal. Though this arguably leaves them under-considered, it’s a refreshing change of pace.

More problematic is that the villains are never properly introduced or explored. Some events are undersold — a woman is murdered for no decent reason, a case of wrong-place-wrong-time, but once her body is discovered no thought or mention is given to her unfortunate luck or her family’s grief. Obvious deductions stare Wallander and his team in the face yet they fail to make them — the length of time it takes anyone to twig that the fundamental Christians might intend to attack the high-profile gay wedding is astounding. All of these faults rob a few plot twists of their full potential, though at least one still left me surprised and feeling like I should have spotted it (which, of course, is what a competent twist ought to do). Arguably, however, there’s too great a reliance on coincidence to connect all the dots.

Visually this Wallander is as different from the BBC’s as Henriksson is from Branagh. Where the British one seems to attempt an emulation of what our idea of Sweden might be — all cold, desaturated blues and greys, lingering shots of vast empty countryside, and so on — the Swedish version is more, well, normal. (That said, early on it contains a perversely beautiful shot of two swans in flight while engulfed in flames.) No doubt the differences between series are the product of the British version trying to create a Foreign Culture while the Swedish one is just content with filming it as-is, much the same as British-set British dramas do with Britain. On a broadly related note (in that they’re visual), the subtitles are mostly fine, though some jokes and language tricks are unfortunately lost in translation.

Before the Frost is, sadly, not all it could be. Whether this is the fault of Mankell’s novel or Stefan Ahnhem and Pelle Berglund’s adaptation I don’t know (I’ve never read a Mankell), but while it seems fine as it goes along a bit of reflection reveals all these niggling gaps. That might be a little harsh though, as there’s still much to admire and enjoy in the first of what could be a fine series.

The second theatrical release, Mastermind, was on BBC Four last week and is available on iPlayer for another 24 hours. The third, The Secret (aka Hemligheten), is episode thirteen and will air later this year.

Ashes of Time Redux (1994/2008)

Posted on November 14, 2009 by badblokebob

aka Dung che sai duk redux / Dong xie xi du zhongji ban

2009 #71
Wong Kar-wai | 90 mins | TV | 15 / R

A wandering man with magic wine and no memory; a clan prince who’s also his beloved sister; a master swordsman who’s almost blind; his wife, who loves his best friend; a persistent peasant girl after revenge for her little brother, with only eggs for payment; a young swordsman with no shoes and a camel; a large gang of bandits with a left-handed member; and a desert-dwelling problem solver who connects them all. Oh if only Ashes of Time were as simple as that sounds.

Despite apparently being an Eastern action movie — it’s in the wuxia genre, which, for the uninitiated, also covers the likes of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and House of Flying Daggers — Ashes of Time isn’t what one would typically expect from such a billing. Reviews talk about it being a confusingly-plotted art film — and those are the positive ones — which, coupled with my relative dislike of Chungking Express, meant I didn’t really expect to like it a great deal. But I found myself surprised, because I really enjoyed it.

For one thing, I followed the plot right to the end, though the final fifteen minutes throw up a series of twists to rival any thriller. I don’t claim to understand every nuance of every character, the meaning of every event, exactly how everything is connected (assuming it is), or what it’s really all about… but based on what I’ve read, even following it is an achievement on a first viewing. I felt more or less the same way at the end of The Big Sleep, and the trick here is the same: pay attention. Yes, this requires some effort on the part of the viewer — I was aware of myself paying close attention throughout in order to follow and comprehend the story, more so than in most films (even discounting easily-followed mainstream-aimed efforts). An awareness of this need for hyper-attentiveness from the get-go (which, as I say, I had thanks to perusing a couple of reviews) is likely to aid the viewer (which, as I say, it did me).

The story itself, then, is quite episodic. There’s some overlap, but in general characters come and go from the problem solver’s home in a parade, rarely interacting with one another. Each individual piece explores a different facet of a similar theme — “anecdotes about chivalric swordsmen”, as the Radio Times puts it — which serves to tie them together, alongside other plot elements and character points — several have wives in love with others, for example, while others have left their wives at home and one has been followed by his.

Wong (again, so I read) broke ground within the genre by prioritising emotion over action. Therefore potential viewers shouldn’t expect the abundant martial arts/swordplay the genre often provides. If Hero was too arty for you (as it was for me first time round), then this will almost certainly be beyond the pale. Despite the paucity of action — despite several stories concerning assassination and death, the actual act isn’t the point in the slightest — when it does turn up (the first significant sequence is halfway through) it’s excellent; effectively, if differently, done.

Indeed, the film is beautifully shot; perhaps not as obviously as Hero’s colour-coded vibrancy, but there are frequent moments that dazzle and I can’t recall a single weak visual. Wong mucked about with the colours as part of his reduxing, to the reported distaste of cinematography Christopher Doyle, but it still looks stunning throughout.

Wong’s 2008 redux included not only these tweaks to the visuals, but also modifications to the audio and losing seven minutes from the original cut. I’ve never seen it so can’t compare, though some reports claim the changes helped clarify the plot. For the curious, a catalogue of differences can be found here. Equally, those after better-informed reviews might like to read DVD Times’ coverage, with Noel Megahey on the DVD and John White on the BD, and Heroes of the East’s review of both cuts.

Having pointed you toward those wise reviewers, let me just say that Ashes of Time Redux is not your typical wuxia film and not for everyone. My enjoyment of it came as something of a surprise, which is always nice.

Film4 are showing Ashes of Time Redux tonight at 1:05am.

Alone in the Dark (2005)

Posted on November 9, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #69
Uwe Boll | 94 mins | TV | 18 / R

I’ve never played an Alone in the Dark game. I wanted to, when I was young and they were a widely-known cutting-edge franchise, but it was deemed too scary or adult or something like that and I wasn’t allowed. (By the time someone’s nostalgia revived the series nearly a decade later, I didn’t care.) I’ve also never seen an Uwe Boll film, though his reputation obviously precedes him. Considering the latter, having no attachment to the former is probably a benefit to assessing this — I understand that, story-wise, it bears virtually no relation — but I can’t say it helps much.

Right from the off, things don’t look good: it opens with an essay’s worth of backstory in scrolling text… which, just to rub it in, is also read out. It takes about a minute and a half. There are any number of screenwriting rules this not so much breaks as slowly and methodically grinds into sand. Some rules can be bent or broken to good effect if the writer knows what they’re doing, but others exist for damn fine reasons and breaking them just results in a lesser film. This is unquestionably the latter. There’s an almost-excuse: the text was added after test audiences said they didn’t understand the plot. But it’s not much of one. The relevant information is all revealed later in the film too, and neither manage to explain what the hell is going on. It’s not the audience’s fault they couldn’t understand the plot, it just doesn’t make sense.

Quickly, the poor quality opening is cemented with the addition of a dire voiceover narration from Christian Slater’s lead character. He addresses the audience in a chatty style that’s both irritating and incongruous, and primarily exists to continuously dump more useless info. That it disappears without a trace fairly early on is a relief, but proves how pointless and cheap it was in the first place.

And then there’s an action sequence, which defies logic in every respect. The editing mucks up continuity, the good guys turn into a dead-end marketplace for no reason — other than it provides a handily enclosed location for the ensuing fist fight — the bad guy rams cars, scales buildings and jumps through windows, also for no reason, and the fight seems to consist of a punch followed by some slow motion standing around (yes, it’s the standing around that’s in slow motion) repeated too often, interspersed with the occasional ‘cool’ move or shot. On the bright side, there’s one sub-Matrix, Wanted-esque shot of a bullet-time close-up as Carnby fires at the bad guy through a block of ice, which in itself is passably entertaining. You’ll note, of course, that that’s one good shot. One. Shot.

I could go through every scene in the film describing what’s wrong in this way, but no one wants to suffer that. Suffice to say it only gets worse — none of the initial flaws improve, but are compounded by more weak performances (Tara Reid as some kind of scientist?) and the story entirely vacating proceedings. Before halfway I gave up following the plot — after all, why try to follow something that makes no sense in the first place — and just hoped it could pull out some interesting or exciting sequences. But the horror sequences have no tension and the fights no coherence. One action sequence, which begins entirely out of the blue, sees soldiers shooting at beast-thingies in the dark, lit only by muzzle flashes, set to a thumping metal soundtrack. It probably seemed innovative when conceived, but instead is laughable for all the wrong reasons. Like the rest of the film.

Sadly, none of it’s laughable in a charming way — this is not So Bad It’s Good territory. Take the moment where the good guys arrive at an abandoned gold mine that’s actually the villain’s Super Secret Lair. They bring a whole army’s worth of heavily armed marines. Commander blokey insists it’s nothing like enough men… and then proceeds to enter the mine with just half a dozen of them. If there was no budget for more it might be funny, but the rest stay up top to be slaughtered by some Primeval-quality CGI. Even the ending, supposed to be ambiguous apparently, is just a meaningless cop-out that makes absolutely no sense. Like the rest of the film.

Sometimes I feel sorry for Christian Slater. He always seems a nice guy in interviews, yet this kind of drivel is all the work he can get. At the time of writing it’s the 82nd worst film of all time on IMDb (according to its own page, though not that chart). While this is the kind of status that’s often an overreaction (the number of people on IMDb declaring various films are “the worst film ever” suggests most of them have been fortunate enough to never see a truly bad movie), for once it’s justified: Alone in the Dark is irredeemably atrocious.

If you want to subject yourself to Alone in the Dark, ITV4 are showing it tonight at 11pm.

Alone in the Dark featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2009, which can be read in full here.

Babel (2006)

Posted on November 5, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #41
Alejandro González Iñárritu | 138 mins | TV (HD) | 15 / R

Multi Oscar nominated and one of Ebert’s Great Movies, Babel is one of those films that comes with a lot of expectation riding on it. The fact that the only Iñárritu film I’ve previously seen is 21 Grams, which I thought was distinctly overrated, takes the shine off those expectations. Probably for the best.

The quickest way to assess Babel is to say that it is about something — or, About Something. The plots, such as they are, aren’t really the point; nor is how they connect, or what chronology they actually occurred in — this isn’t a Memento or a Rashomon, a narrative in odd pieces designed to be reconstructed by the viewer. Naturally, because it is About Something, the Something it is About isn’t made blindingly clear, though there are many contenders — loneliness, miscommunication, culture clashes, the ripple effect, children, and on. Perhaps this means it isn’t as focused as it could (or should?) be; perhaps Iñárritu revels in ambiguity, which isn’t necessarily a problem.

On a relatively surface level, then: the Japanese story barely connects to the others, which are all more directly woven together. Even if their connectedness isn’t the point, when the others are so clearly and directly related it leaves the Japanese thread feeling the odd one out, almost tacked on to the others. It’s probably a coincidence that it’s also the film’s best story, containing about as much incident and interest as the other three put together.

The central character in that particular thread is portrayed by Rinko Kikuchi, who justly earnt a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for her work. The film’s only other Oscar acting nomination went to Adriana Barraza, in the same category, for her role as a Mexican nanny. Again, a deserved nod, as these are easily the two most compelling performances in Babel. (They lost to Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls. I’ve not seen Dreamgirls, but as the other nominees were Abigail Breslin (for Little Miss Sunshine) and Cate Blanchett (for Notes on a Scandal), I’m willing to bet she was the least deserving of all five.)

If the Japanese thread is the best then Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett’s story is the weakest of the bunch, managing to underuse both those leads and a host of British talent too. The other two stories are equally slight, but at least muster up some genuine emotion.

Babel is the kind of film that it’s easy to overrate because, ooh, doesn’t it seem clever. Conversely, it’s easy to underrate because, ooh, doesn’t it seem pretentious. Naturally, therefore, I’m going to come down right in the middle (but note that the Japanese story on its lonesome would earn a 4).

Eastern Promises (2007)

Posted on November 4, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #32
David Cronenberg | 97 mins | DVD | 18 / R

Arguably most famous for his horror films of the ’80s (though a couple of his ’90s efforts could stake a claim), director David Cronenberg widened his appeal somewhat with the excellent crime thriller A History of Violence. Here he reunites with star Viggo Mortensen for another grim tale, switching the bright searing heat of the American Midwest for the rain-drenched nighttime streets of our fair capital.

Despite some similarities in plot and theme, Eastern Promises failed to engage me in the same way as the earlier effort. Perhaps this is because it plays tag with its central character, beginning with Naomi Watts’ do-gooder nurse before shifting focus to Mortensen’s mafia chauffeur with nary a blink. It’s an unusual transition, and consequently it’s hard to tell whether it’s skillful writing or a fortuitous accident that it comes off seamlessly. One theoretical screenwriting argument would have it that the film is actually all about Christine, the baby, and that’s why it works, but that feels a little too pretentious to engage with now.

Tied around the baby’s fate, screenwriter Steven Knight factors in some appropriately dark elements, like white slavery or the relocated criminal underworld that currently operates in the UK. Though these are handled with a certain amount of care, they’ve been covered in greater depth elsewhere (the excellent miniseries Sex Traffic, for example) and here are reduced to pawns in a different tale. This isn’t necessarily inappropriate, but remembering the detail from other such dramas can leave the topics’ inclusion here feeling lightweight.

Elsewhere, the screenplay suffers from some awkward dialogue exchanges and barely credible logic contrivances being used to jump-start the plot. Most of these come from Watts’ character, who seems too competent for much of the film to pass off as a naïve fool at its start. This may be Watts’ fault, playing her as intelligent when a naïve approach might render her actions more believable, but it seems cruel to lay the blame with her as she’s very strong all round. Armin Mueller-Stahl also gives his typically accomplished turn in his typically key supporting role.

Mortensen’s Oscar-nominated performance is the focus, however. Apparently thoroughly immersed in the role, he gives a distinguished performance throughout and is central to what are by far the film’s most memorable moments: a nude steam baths fight, which has become justifiably infamous (I suspect for the “nude” part, but it’s the “fight” that deserves it), and a game-changing twist, that I sadly had ruined in advance, though there are plenty of clues scattered along the way.

By its end, Eastern Promises has the feel of the first part of something bigger: while the story of the baby is resolved, many others are left open. Unresolved threads aren’t always a problem, but it feels like Cronenberg has more to say in this world. So it’s nice to know a sequel is possibly in the works, because Eastern Promises has the potential to be a Hobbit to some Russian mafia epic’s Lord of the Rings. On the other hand, a similarly low-key follow-up would be just as appropriate.

Though it failed to capture me as much as A History of Violence, possibly due to too-raised expectations, Eastern Promises has the potential to grow with repeated viewings. And either type of continuation would be most welcome.

Unfortunately, plans for a sequel ultimately fell apart in 2012. Some more details can be read here.

For Your Consideration (2006)

Posted on November 3, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #57
Christopher Guest | 79 mins | TV | 12 / PG-13

The makers of This is Spinal Tap and Best in Show — along with all their usual cast members — swing their satirical sights from others’ work to their own industry. Unfortunately, it’s not a patch on their previous efforts.

The biggest problem is that most of the gags feel a little familiar. It’s not that they’re unfunny, just that they don’t feel very original. Worst off are the numerous jokes about the internet, mobile phones and other technology, which feel more 1996 than 2006. It’s all lacking in subtlety, taking a broad swipe at the whole filmmaking industry rather than incisively mining its constituent parts for something insightful.

The best bits come in the second half, when the cast and crew (of the fictional film-within-a-film, that is) hit the campaign trail to promote their movie. The styles of TV shows that various people appear on — the different levels awarded to the leads, other cast members, the writers, and so on — has some decent satire, the closest For Your Consideration comes to being truly revealing.

Most disappointing is that this should have been so good. The team who basically invented the spoof documentary finally taking on their own industry? Brilliant! But it feels like they felt the same way and rushed into production without properly thinking it through. Which, in its own way, is rather ironic.

Saw IV (2007)

Posted on October 31, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #62
Darren Lynn Bousman | 92 mins | DVD | 18 / R

This review contains minor spoilers.

Saw IV is the final film in the series directed by Bousman, and will also be my jumping off point (for the time being). According to IMDb (which I presume is sourced from a commentary or something), Bousman had been intending to depart after Saw III, but was persuaded to stay when a twist in the fourth film’s script managed to surprise him, something he thought the franchise was by then incapable of. But do not let this get your hopes up, dear reader, because Saw IV lacks any twists that even come close to those in the preceding films. What caused Bousman to continue is a mystery, and some viewers will inevitably feel the same way about continuing with the series themselves.

After the overly gory third film, Saw IV returns to the franchise’s roots by playing more like a thriller than a horror film — even more so than the previous instalments, one might argue, as aside from a couple of jumps and a few instances of gore, the story and its key sequences move forward via police investigation, endless flashbacks and copious twists. The Saw franchise should be applauded for trying to be more than just another slasher series, but needs to learn the value of restraint in other areas.

The plot, for example, is incredibly complicated. This could be a good thing — it’s rare for the fourth film in a franchise, especially a horror one, to demand so much from its audience — and the viewer not only has to pay attention to the events on screen, but have a pretty good awareness of those from the last two films as well. Despite its complications, such connectedness is actually a reason to retain hope for the franchise, because it really tries to be about more than just how graphically it can slaughter people.

Unfortunately, any effort on the part of the viewer isn’t rewarded. Saw IV is too complex, ultimately descending into the realms of incomprehensibility. There are around four different plot threads, at least two of them jumping around in time like a TARDIS with ADD. Goodness knows how many different time zones are included, how many of them progress in a linear fashion, and whether or not they actually have any bearing on each other. Even references to previous films are confused: while this clearly begins some time after the end of Saw III, it then jumps back before Saw III, and then during Saw III, and then with Saw III, and then after Saw III again… but not as far after it as that opening scene. And that’s just the main plot.

A lot of the complexity is in aid of answering hanging questions from Saw II and, especially, III, but the mass of backstory leaves you wishing for a standalone ‘Test of the Film’ plot, which the first three essentially are. As already expressed, such an intricate array of stories is not necessarily a problem, but neither new writers Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan nor director Bousman have the required skill to guide the audience through such dense material. Nor the experience to know when less can be more, clearly.

Fortunately, Bousman seems to have learnt that “less is more” with the deaths. After the excess of Saw III, the gore feels pared back here. The one notable exception is an entirely extraneous autopsy that opens the film, which goes beyond the last entry’s brain surgery in the gruesome stakes. Apparently it’s to prove Jigsaw is unquestionably dead, but it does it with more glee and explicit medical detail than necessary.

Elsewhere, however, the savagery shortage is welcome — except that, in the process, Bousman seems to have misplaced the tension present in the first two films. The only real suspense is an opening trap that is, again, almost entirely extraneous to the rest of the plot, although one trap later on — featuring an abusive husband pinned to his wife — is moderately ingenious, achieving Jigsaw’s proclaimed ideas of apt justice in ways many previous traps failed to.

And what of Jigsaw this time? He may be dead, but instead we’re treated to flashbacks of John Kramer’s pre-Jigsaw life. As you may remember from my complaints in Saw III, revealing more about our villain is, in this case, not a good idea. Seeing Kramer before he was an Evil Bad Guy is clearly an attempt to make him a real person, one inspired to engage in a killing spree by every-day, real-life events. As with the other thriller elements, grounding the villain in the real world — and trying to give him plausible, relatable motivation — sets the Saw series apart from the vast majority of other horror franchises. But there’s no need to understand Jigsaw, and the more we learn about him the less impact he has. His soul is laid bare here, but by trying to make his actions plausible it continues to strip away the mystery and highlights how ludicrous his traps are in reality — they work fine in the conceit of a horror movie, but trying to imply it’s a real person doing these in the real world is one suspension of disbelief too far.

Which kind of sums up the film, really. Saw III went too far with its gore, and now Saw IV goes too far with its plot. As the series rattles on to its fifth instalment (and this year’s sixth, and next year’s seventh, and at least an eighth beyond that), its only hope for regaining a decent level of quality — in my opinion, of course — is to keep the gore at a manageable level, and keep the storytelling at one too.

Technically I watched the Unrated/Extreme extended cut of Saw IV. The differences are numerous but ultimately minimal. Those desiring a full list of alterations can find one here.

Saw III (2006)

Posted on October 27, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #61
Darren Lynn Bousman | 109 mins | TV | 18 / R

This review could be seen to contain some spoilers.

I’m reliably informed that, in the UK, we do our best not to allow people with psychopathic tendencies into the armed forces. In the US, on the other hand, they let them all in. And they also let them make movies like this.

Saw III is the point at which the franchise finally tips over into the justly reviled “torture porn” category. That’s not to say it’s solely focused on its gruesome deaths — as with the previous two films, there’s a thriller-ish plot to work through as well — but Jigsaw’s traps this time round are shown in excruciating detail. Perhaps the filmmakers are deliberately trying to shock their audience, increasingly desensitised by Saw wannabes, or perhaps they’ve just let their increased budget run rampant. Whatever the reason, it’s not welcome.

Along with it, the gore feels less justified. The traps have an element of invention about them, but the punishment doesn’t fit the crime in the same way it did in the first two films. There is arguably an explanation for this (to share it would be to spoil some of the plot), but that seems a thin excuse for a lack of intelligence on the part of the writers. In fact, one of the most gratuitously gory scenes is a brain surgery sequence that’s almost entirely unrelated to anyone’s test. It’s shown in unrelenting, unnecessary detail, coming across as the makers using some kind of “but it’s a medical procedure” excuse for showing more grisly detail than they might otherwise be allowed.

The story that links the monstrous set pieces together is a bit of a mixed bag, continuing dangling threads from the previous films while producing a few of its own that seem unconnected. It lacks the focus and straightforward drive of the first two instalments, but leaves the viewer longing for such a thing. The main test, once it gets underway, is quite a good idea, and different again to its predecessors. Here we have one man facing those he holds responsible for the death of his son, and it’s up to him whether they survive their traps. The traps may not be as clever as before, but the storyline is different enough to engage the audience’s interest.

But before the worthwhile bit can begin, we have a section that just feels like housekeeping — where Detective Matthews has got to, what happened next to Detective Kerry, what Amanda is up to now. Worse, woven around the main test is another story thread — one that finds Jigsaw on his deathbed (perhaps) and deems it necessary to fill us in on Amanda’s backstory. Unfortunately, this latter part is incredibly dull. That the film’s final moments reveal it was more relevant than previously expected does invite a re-watch, but the prospect of sitting through the sadistic mutilation — and nonetheless boring expository scenes — for a second time is just as off-putting.

Not only is the Jigsaw subplot dull, it’s also too revealing. One of the many things that marks Saw out from its horror stablemates is that Jigsaw is a real man, not a supernaturally-powered being, but he still works best as an enigmatic figure, menacing characters in occasional scenes that offer no more than a handful of tidbits about his past. Here, he’s both over-central and over-revealed. The more we learn the more his mystery is removed, he becomes less interesting and, worse, less threatening. Tobin Bell’s performance is as good as ever, but the character works better in fewer, more condensed doses.

As well as endless backstory, the screenplay also offers another final array of twists. The closing revelations were some of the best bits of the last two films, so are naturally loaded with expectation here. Personally, I didn’t find them to be much of a surprise, most of it guessable from too far in advance. Rather, the final round of frame-long flashbacks are desperate to make the viewer think it’s more of a twist than it is, kind of like the filmmakers explaining why something’s so clever in spite of it being a bit obvious. To be fair, these ‘twists’ aren’t stupid — in fact, they’re quite good — but I wasn’t surprised by them. As if Bousman and co were trying to redeem themselves, the scene that follows is quite tense, and one very final twist — just when you thought they were all twisted out — does manage to surprise. And it’s a cliffhanger to boot.

Indeed, despite a certain finality at the end, Saw III is ready-made for at least one further sequel (of course, as we now know, it’s got four and counting). There are all kinds of little bits that go unexplained here, from characters to blink-and-you’ll-miss-them plot-points-in-waiting, not to mention that it ends on that fairly substantial cliffhanger-twist. That it’s so brazen in its lack of comprehensive answers will irritate some, while others will delight in the knowledge there are still more mysteries to ponder.

Visually, Saw III is overcooked. The cinematography is too stylised, heavily filtered to offer a single-colour-saturated look for each location. Such a technique can be beneficial in certain contexts — Traffic, for example, lucratively uses an even more extreme example — but here feels like someone was let loose in the grading toolbox. Equally, the trickery with scene transitions — where different locations have been built on the same set so as to move between them without any editing or digital effects* — may have looked clever in 1940, but now seems needless. Worse, it confuses the storytelling and the audience’s sense of geography. It’s one thing tricking your viewer with plot twists, another entirely to needlessly mislead their understanding of filmic space. These wannabe-flashy transitions are inspired by similar ones in the preceding films, but there they were neatly subtle and surprisingly effective, while here they don’t look as cool as someone clearly thinks, as well as initiating moments of befuddlement.

Despite my ever-growing catalogue of complaints, there is a bright side for Saw III. What could have been just another rehash of the same basic plot conceit ramped up a bit more — from two people trapped in a room, to half a dozen trapped in a house, this could’ve just been a dozen trapped in an office block — instead chooses to come up with a new narrative structure. Yes, it’s still based around defeating a series of traps/tests, but in a genre where some franchise entries are merely distinguished by the different modes of death — if that — it’s tantamount to a revelatory change of style. It also holds the distinction of being the only Saw film so far I want to rewatch to better consider events (and, from a filmmaking standpoint, its narrative structure and balance), even if other elements put me off.

Though it’s Jigsaw’s story that merits this feeling, I’d still rather have less of him and more of the test he’s got on the go. Sadly, I think the franchise is headed in the exact opposite direction.

* This technique was definitely used in Saw IV (according to IMDb), but I don’t know if it was also applied here or if it just looks like it was.

Saw II (2005)

Posted on October 21, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #60
Darren Lynn Bousman | 89 mins | TV (HD) | 18 / R

The games-playing slaughterfest returns in what I’m told is many fans’ favourite entry in the series. Maybe they’ve never seen Cube…

Saw II is a horror sequel, which means it can’t help but take the same basic premise as its originator: serial killer Jigsaw locks a number of people in a room with a series of games/traps, which they can escape only if they can work out the clues to defeat them; and if not, they’ll be brutally murdered and/or disfigured. Where Saw II comes into its own is that it dares to do something a bit different with this premise, usually the hallmark of a worthwhile sequel.

Instead of two victims locked in a dingy bathroom we have too many to reasonably count locked in a whole house. Instead of the killer being largely unseen he’s a constant presence, in conversation with a police detective while events in the house unfold on monitors nearby. The film’s raison d’être is the same — people get injured/killed in nastily inventive ways — but someone (co-writer/director Bousman, in fact) actually bothered to come up with a story that’s more than superficially different.

Despite the terror and gore — and there’s a healthy (a word I use very, very loosely) dose of each — Saw II is arguably even more like a thriller than its predecessor. The police are more heavily involved this time, actually catching up with Jigsaw, and as much time is devoted to Detective Matthews’ negotiation/chat as it is to the predicament of the victims. Here we get a chance to see what a great villain Tobin Bell makes — subtly so, not the typically OTT psychopath killer designed to show off an actor’s ‘skill’. He’s not quite Spacey’s John Doe, but his quiet, determined, reasoned killer is a cut above the average. That he’s afforded a moderately reasonable motive and some character development is certainly more in line with thrillers than horror movies.

Meanwhile, in the house, Bousman seems to be going for a Cube-like atmosphere: a disparate group of people wake up together and must find a way out of a strange, booby-trapped location. This starts out well enough, unravelling both questions and answers at a pleasing speed, but unfortunately is unable to sustain it convincingly. Few of the victims achieve the level of distinct characterisation that Cube managed, suggesting there are more people locked in the house than the writers could comfortably handle or the story could really support.

Indeed, even the primary selling point is abandoned surprisingly quickly — it seems the writers don’t have enough ways to kill people. At least one just drops dead from the virus-that’s-there-from-the-start, which feels unsatisfactory, while another happens to wander into a trap when it’s time to dispatch someone else. Considering the amount of planning we know Jigsaw gives to his games, we should at least see that there are enough ways to kill everyone, even if some are then subverted through escape or avoidance.

There’s some redemption to be found at the climax, which produces a final round of twists that are almost equal to the first film’s triumphant reveal. Again I won’t give it away, but I’m sure some have called the biggest twist a cheat, on a par with “and they woke up and it was all a dream”. If they have, they’re wrong: it’s entirely in keeping with both the games Jigsaw might play and the flashback-driven style of the first film, not to mention that — as the insistent concluding recap shows — there are clues seeded all the way along. If it’s not as audaciously memorable as the twist in Saw, that’s through no fault of it’s own.

Saw II doesn’t just rehash the original, which is something to be thankful for in a horror sequel. There’s something close to character development, a nice opening setup, and an enjoyably twist-stacked ending. Unfortunately it can’t quite connect that opening to that ending, in spite of its brief running time, which means it fails to equal its predecessor’s overall quality. Fair effort though.

Saw III premieres on Channel 4 tomorrow. Saw VI is in cinemas from Friday.

Saw (2004)

Posted on October 18, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #59
James Wan | 99 mins | DVD | 18 / R

With Saw VI about to subject cinema screens and captured audiences to another round of gruesome brutalisation, Channel 4 have seen fit to treat viewers to a similar experience in their own home, screening the first three films in the now-annual cinematic occurrence this week. Except I’ve had the original Saw sat in my DVD collection for years, so I watched that instead.

Despite being credited with birthing the entirely risible ‘gorno’ genre (for those blissfully unaware, ‘gorno’ is an amalgamation of “gore” and “porno”; its other common name, “torture porn”, is a thoroughly descriptive moniker), Saw isn’t really a good example of it. There are nasty, vicious murders — or, technically, deaths — but there’s no serious sexual element and it’s all underpinned by a half-decent plot.

In fact, I’ve heard it called “a thriller with sadism” rather than a horror movie. There’s a point to that, and the Guardian’s comparison with Se7en (as misquoted on the DVD cover) isn’t misplaced (in certain surface elements anyway). The killer has a motive that’s not supernatural, there’s an intricate array of flashbacks as well as the unfolding events, with a gradual unravelling of the truth via investigation, complete with a thriller-sized collection of twists.

But just because it’s not a slasher movie doesn’t mean it’s not horror. The sheer vileness of the killings — their tortuous methods, graphic results, and tense build-ups — put paid to any notion that this is just a nasty-minded thriller. The setup is more thriller-like, with Dr Gordon’s recollection of a police investigation, but once underway it’s all played as a horror movie — the sequence leading up to Adam’s capture, for instance, where he stalks his darkened apartment with only a camera’s flash for illumination, is pure horror — and the overriding impression is of a movie primarily attempting to scare you, not engage your mind with a mystery-fuelled plot.

Not that the story should be ignored, because it’s this that raises Saw above its gorno compatriots and makes it a worthwhile film. Wan and screenwriter Leigh Whannell juggle flashbacks and multiple timelines with consummate ease, using them to uncover backstory that advances the tale they’re telling rather than provide padding to an otherwise slight conceit. It’s not as intricate as, say, The Prestige, but is complex enough that in lesser hands they could’ve been the film’s undoing. Wan and Whannell never lose sight of what purpose every scene serves, where they occur in the film’s chronology, and where the story’s going. Consequently it all flows seamlessly.

It all contributes to a final twist that is truly wonderful. Even if you know it’s coming (as I unfortunately did), it’s so beautifully executed in every respect that it’s awesome to behold. It wouldn’t be enough to overcome the horrors of the film that precede it for those of a squeamish nature, but it’s certainly the best bit. I wouldn’t dream of giving it away here (though have probably oversold it).

It isn’t perfect. The dialogue is frequently awkward, the acting occasionally variable, but those things are hardly the point in this genre and here are never so bad as to interrupt proceedings (unless you’re looking to pick holes, in which case they’re ripe for it). The low budget occasionally shows through too, but that’s not necessarily a barrier to success — do we need to see a car chase on roads when a black backdrop and smoke can convey the same information adequately for the story? I think not. (Unless you happen to have Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace pop into your head at the time…)

The annual sequels apparently conform to the law of diminishing returns, but it’s plain to see what sparked the craze in the first place. Sickly inventive, well constructed and rarely less than gripping — and with a killer sting in its tale — if you haven’t already, and think you can stomach it, you really ought to see Saw.

(Sorry.)

There seem to be three versions of Saw doing the rounds, though the difference between the longest and shortest is little more than 30 seconds, apparently due to the odd extended shot and different opening logos. If anyone cares, the version I watched ran 1:38:31 (PAL).

Saw II is on Channel 4 and 4HD tonight, while Saw III premieres there on Thursday. Saw VI is in cinemas from Friday.

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