The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Posted on May 14, 2013 by badblokebob

After The Dark Knight’s runaway success, this trilogy-closer would inevitably disappoint some. It is imperfect, featuring a story so grandly complex that even the extensive running time fails to give it breathing space, and an occasional leap or fudged point requires audience thinking (which too few are capable of, apparently); but it also has its share of greatness.

It’s undeniably notable for being An Ending — superheroes don’t get endings. There’ll be a reboot, naturally, but no matter: Nolan’s Batman ends.

Whatever the flaws, there’s a rewarding experience here, albeit more comic-book-y than the real-world crime-thriller aspirations of its beloved predecessor.

The Dark Knight Rises placed 6th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2012, which can be read in full here.

In the interests of completing my ever-growing backlog, I decided to post ‘drabble reviews’ of some films. In the future I may update with something longer, but if I don’t, at least here’s something for posterity.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, a drabble is a complete piece of writing exactly 100 words long.

I have much more I could have said about The Dark Knight Rises, but damn I’m fed up with still having films from 2012 on my to-do list! A fuller piece may well accompany a re-watch in the future. For now, there’s always my initial thoughts.

Green Lantern: Extended Cut (2011)

Posted on May 9, 2013 by badblokebob

“Hype” has to be one of the biggest factors in how we view films these days. Technically it’s defined as “extravagant or intensive publicity”, I suppose thereby meaning something to “positive expectation”, but I think it also works the other way: if you’ve heard nothing but awful things about a film, its weakness has been ‘hyped’. It’s this latter point that applies to Green Lantern, which has an almost insurmountable degree of negative expectation attached. To summarise the headline points, it’s got a woeful rating of 26% on Rotten Tomatoes and took just $220m at the international box office, which might sound a lot but barely covers its production budget. So I expected to despise Green Lantern, or at least roll my eyes or twiddle my thumbs at its constant awfulness, but I actually quite enjoyed it.

And that’s why I talk about hype, because my expectation that the film would be irredeemably awful is at least partly why I found it surprisingly enjoyable — a bit like XMO Wolverine, which I didn’t like nearly as much when I watched it again a few years later. I’m not going to try to argue Green Lantern is a great movie, or even that it doesn’t contain significant flaws, but as a comic book-y two-hour diversion, I found it passably entertaining.

For those not in the know, the plot concerns Hal Jordan (Reynolds) finding a dead alien and a ‘magic’ ring that inducts him into a sort of intergalactic police force, the Green Lanterns. Stupid name and concept, attributable to it being a genuine magic thing before being reinvented as alien tech at some point, and perhaps it was the very daft datedness of the idea that (in part) put a mass audience off. But I digress. Cocky jocky Hal is whisked off to the other side of the galaxy to learn how to be a Hero and use his ‘magic’ ring, which can conjure stuff up, then returns to Earth to save it from some menace(s). As superhero origin stories go, at least it’s got a couple of differences.

Hal’s character arc — the cocky guy who’s actually got fears and insecurities due to the death of his father — is actually quite a good one; a neat twist on the usual hero archetypes. So many superheroes have a version of the “loved one died when I was young” thing, but for most it’s motivation to fight rather than a worry that holds them back. But that arc is underplayed almost to the point of being unnoticeable, so when Hal overcomes it in order to save the day, you barely register that he’s overcome anything. Which is a shame, because there was potential in that. You don’t necessarily expect depth of character from a blockbuster, but it does hold it back.

However, the film’s primary problem (at least for me) was a lack of threat; or, rather, a lack of urgency. There’s a great big devourer of worlds out there, but we never get the feeling it’s doing much harm to anyone. I mean, it is, but we don’t feel it. Even at the climax, when it sets course to Earth, it’s more of an understanding that our hero is going to save the planet, rather than a genuine sense of peril that Earth is under assault. Perhaps this stems back to characterisation: some of the cast are likeable enough; the others are bland enough to not be unlikeable; and that leaves us wanting for someone to root for.

There are positives. The action sequences are good, which is a definite plus in this kind of film. The inventiveness with what the ring can do is fun. There’s a lack of relation to the sketchily-drawn characters that stands in the way of us truly engaging with them, and there’s a certain brevity and lack of scale that undersells the alleged threat to Earth (it’s a giant evil space-cloud that can barely cover a few city blocks, let alone the entire planet) — but, that aside, they’re entertaining enough. That said, much as the film pulls its punches with characterisation and threat, so it does with awe and spectacle. The Lanterns’ planet Oa doesn’t have the same impact as Asgard in Thor, yet we’re told several times what a spectacular place it is.

The Blu-ray’s Extended Cut adds exactly 9 minutes and 39 seconds of new content (as ever, details can be found here). This is almost entirely a prelude sequence, showing the death of Hal Jordan’s dad. The sequence serves to flesh out the relationships between Hal, love interest Carol and future-villain Hector a little, but there’s not a lot gained that isn’t learnt elsewhere. It also breaks up the flow. I only watched the extended version in full, but I imagine it’s a smoother transition in the theatrical, rather than pinging back and forth between intergalactic goings-on and bits & bobs on Earth. The only other extension comes when Hal has a chat with his 11-year-old nephew. Conversely, this scene plays much better in the extended cut, and I’m not entirely sure why they felt the need to cut it.

Indeed, I’d say the Extended Cut doesn’t go far enough, with some of the disc’s deleted scenes meriting inclusion. However, the main one occurs on Oa, meaning an effects-heavy scene that hasn’t had CG work done or all the voices recorded, so couldn’t just be dropped back into the finished film as-is. I imagine that’s why it wasn’t. That said, even if they’d done such work, those scenes are minor points, not game-changers.

What an extended cut of Green Lantern should really have done is build character and emotional impact. The plot is decent enough, but the film rattles along and sticks purely to story — we never feel it. It is nice to have a blockbuster effects movie that comes in closer to two hours than three, but they used to be able to make those and have us care. Where’s that ability gone? The only relationship that gets any real screen time is the romantic one, and that’s a damp squib.

I quite enjoyed Green Lantern while watching it. I felt quite positive afterwards. But the more you think about it, the more you spot the lack of depth. Maybe that’s OK — maybe it’s fine for a film to just give passing pleasure while it’s on. It wouldn’t be good if every film operated at that level, but it’s a painless experience now and then. Still, I think there’s a better film lurking in Green Lantern, and it’s a shame it didn’t get the screenwriter(s) or director(s) required to bring it out. It’s even more of a shame that worse films than this have received a kinder critical consensus or huge box office. That leaves some suit feeling vindicated and churning out the same rubbish again, whereas with a bit more effort Green Lantern 2 could’ve been worthwhile.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)

Posted on May 7, 2013 by badblokebob

This review contains major spoilers.

The fourth Harry Potter film is the pivot around which the series revolves, in oh so many ways. Most obviously, it’s book 4 of 7 — the halfway point. It’s also where the books switch from short ‘children’s novel’ lengths to the huge tomes they eventually became. More importantly, it’s the instalment on which the overarching plot of the entire series hangs. Although each previous entry in the Potter canon contributed something to the mythology (even if sometimes its significance wouldn’t become apparent until much later), they’re still viewable as discrete adventures. So too is Goblet of Fire, for the most part — the exception being its final act, which kicks off the story that will consume the rest of the series.

The film is no less of a turning point, for its own reasons. Note that this is when the films’ marketing began to emphasise the ageing of the actors: the teaser trailer begins with shots of Harry, Ron and Hermione from each of the four films; the promotional TV specials go behind the scenes not only on the new film but also its predecessors; clearly substantial retrospective interviews were conducted too: watch the Creating the World of Harry Potter: The Magic Begins documentary on the Philosopher’s Stone Ultimate Edition and it tells the story of the films’ birth by mixing interviews not only from the sets of the first film and the ‘now’ of the final film’s production, but also in costumes and on sets from the fourth movie.

It makes sense: at this point the series was moving beyond your stock franchise length of “trilogy” and into less frequently charted waters, amid speculation that the leads would be recast. With Goblet of Fire being the last point you could reasonably pull that off, I imagine it paid to emphasise that these were the same kids — that we see a cast age in more-or-less real time throughout their childhood, including many small supporting roles as well as the leads, is one of the Potter films’ more unique highlights.

The other big behind-the-scenes decision was one of length. As noted, this is the first Potter story to explode from a short children’s tale, which could be adapted in full in two-and-a-half to three hours, to a lengthy novel that would require masses of time to cover in full. Considerations of spreading it across two films were reportedly dismissed when director Mike Newell promised he could do it in one, essentially by cutting subplots and extraneous material — much as Alfonso Cuarón had on Prisoner of Azkaban, but on a grander scale. (Imagine if they hadn’t made that choice: instead of eight films, the Potter series would have sprawled to 11 instalments!) The result of such editing here is a very direct film, rattling through its plot — even with stuff cut, there’s still a lot of story to cover.

Said story concerns two foreign schools visiting Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, a series of dangerous challenges, into which someone enters Harry against his will. It’s a nice clear through-line: a series of tasks, interspersed with investigations into who forced Harry to participate and why. It all comes to a head in one of the series’ most famous moments, the murder of Cedric Diggory. I can’t remember if Diggory’s meant to be a nice guy or an irritating jock, but here he’s played by Robert Pattinson, proving it’s not only his involvement with the Twilight franchise that makes him smug and annoying. Still, the impact of Diggory’s demise is still shocking and effective for those who don’t know it’s coming — this isn’t just a light series of children’s adventures any more. Of course, the death of a single-book supporting character is less impactful with an awareness of the franchise as a whole — there’s much worse to come, leaving this a mere opening move.

The other element that begins to creep in from this point is all the teenage romance stuff. Provoked mainly by the Yule Ball, with the guys having to pluck up courage to ask girls and dance lessons with teachers, the characters’ love lives start to become a notable factor. For all the plausibility and humour with which it’s depicted, there are times later when it will become a bit tiresome, especially in the novels. Fortunately, much of that’s internal monologue and subplot, and so goes astray here. Extra thanks to Mr Newell for that.

One of the more overlooked facets of Rowling’s work is her penchant for allegory and gentle satire. That’s understandable — they’re just Kids’ Books about magic, after all, and occasionally thuddingly written ones at that. Allegory you can take or leave (who’s really going to gain a perspective on HIV from Lupin’s struggle with lycanthropy?), but the satire is nice. Here it’s the press under fire. Rita Skeeter may have a greatly reduced role compared to the novel, but her Quick-Quotes Quill — which, essentially, just makes stuff up — is present and correct. The next tale, Order of the Phoenix, carries on this motif (the press demonise Harry), as well as setting its sights on blinkered and ineffectual government, and the evils of exam-focused impractical teachers. It’s all rather pleasing, actually, and you have to hope Potter’s millions of readers took it in and learnt something.

It’s easy to let certain events overshadow the entirety of Goblet of Fire; to subsume it into the single long narrative that arguably takes over the later stories. But though it puts broader events in motion, this is still a self-contained tale all its own — and one of the series’ most exciting at that, between storming action sequences and some effective twists. There’s a fair argument to be made that it’s the film series’ best entry.

In about a month, as I’ve already joined the Order of the Phoenix, uncovered the Half-Blood-Prince, and found both parts of the Deathly Hallows, I’ll offer an overview of the David Yates films…

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)

Posted on May 6, 2013 by badblokebob

Prisoner of Azkaban marks a significant turning point for the Harry Potter film series. Viewed now, it’s easy to see it as just Episode 3 of 8; a saga still getting underway. At the time, coming off the back of two incredibly successful films, it felt like a grand shake-up of an established formula.

It’s the first Potter to move away from a Christmassy end-of-year release slot, for one thing, debuting at the height of summer in May. That also made it the first to break the one-per-year release cycle they seemed to be aiming for, which would’ve emulated each film covering a single year of Harry’s time at school. The release date was only 18 months after Chamber of Secrets, but it had an impact — particularly to little Draco Malfoy, who seems to have undergone the majority of puberty in the short time between the end of Chamber and the start of Azkaban. I still remember my shock when he first appeared in the trailer — I thought they’d recast.

Most striking, however, is the new director. Alfonso Cuarón doesn’t ditch the faithfulness to J.K. Rowling’s novels that defined Chris Columbus’ opening pair, but he does ditch the slavishness, and brings a hefty dose of his own stylish directorial skill in the process. Azkaban is a fan favourite among Rowling’s novels, but Cuarón’s preparedness to change things when necessary made the film more of a hate object for some. The wider world had it right, however, because Azkaban was received as the best Potter yet and, I think, was the start of its rehabilitation from a fans-only series of Children’s Films to something that merited across-the-board full marks when Deathly Hallows Part 2 arrived seven years later.

Cuarón and screenwriter Steve Kloves (who would pen every Potter film bar the fifth) focus in on the novel’s plot, ditching its copious world-building and backstory asides. This has both pros and cons. In the former camp, it leaves room for Cuarón to make something more exciting and filmic than Columbus — you can’t imagine the craziness of the Knight Bus in either of the previous films. It also keeps things moving forward, at quite a pace too, rather than meandering off here and there. Even the Quidditch match serves a purpose.

On the downside, it strips away some explanations that not only deepen the series’ world but, in some cases, help it make sense. We never learn the identity of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs (makers of the ever-so-useful Marauder’s Map), or quite why Harry thought he saw his dad by the lake with the Dementors. The former is only nice detail, I suppose, but the latter event makes much more sense when you know the full explanation from the novel. The story gets by without it, but those unfamiliar with the book who stop to think about things may consider it a plot hole, or at least a leap of logic.

The film introduces two of my favourite characters from the series: Gary Oldman’s Sirius Black and David Thewlis’ Remus Lupin. In slightly different ways they’re both outsiders — underdogs, as it were, if you’ll excuse the pun — but both honourable and powerful… but not as pompous as that poor description makes it sound. The film series doesn’t treat either of them particularly well compared to the books, but then supporting characters and subplots are the first things to go (quite rightly).

The other big cast addition is Michael Gambon, replacing Richard Harris as Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Gambon seemed all wrong when he first turned up, replacing the previous near-perfect casting choice. He’s more familiar now, making it harder to judge which actor is superior; but it’s difficult to imagine Harris getting to grips with some of the cheekier and more active things Dumbledore is called on to do later in the series. Was the requirement to recast a blessing in disguise? Perhaps.

Azkaban was a breath of fresh air when it was released in 2004, really kicking the Potter franchise into life creatively. I know I gave the first two four stars each, but having since watched this and Goblet of Fire, the opening episodes pale in comparison.

Tomorrow, I put my name in the Goblet of Fire…

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: Extended Version (2002/2005)

Posted on April 23, 2013 by badblokebob

This extended cut takes the already-lengthy second instalment in the Harry Potter franchise and pushes it to nearly three hours (though if you lop off the extensive end credits it’s more like two-and-three-quarters). As with the extended version of the first film, it was originally created for the US TV premiere, then later released on the Ultimate Edition sets, and simply integrates the DVD’s deleted scenes back into the film.

The difference in running time is 13½ minutes, spread across 19 different extensions. (Per usual, a list can be found here.) As you might guess, many are short snippets, running as little as 18 seconds when viewed among the deleted scenes (and those tend to include scene-setting bits from the theatrical version and a copyright notice). Unsurprisingly, then, many are of little significance, often just fleshing out minor characters (Colin Creevey gets to tell his backstory; Justin Finch-Fletchley gets to introduce himself) or adding comedy beats (a floating cake at the Dursleys’; Crabbe and Goyle bumping into ‘themselves’).

So are any especially beneficial? Well, one fleshes out what happened to the flying car (setting up its return to save the day a few minutes later), and there are extra moments to clarify Harry’s awareness of the other students’ worries about him. There’s a bit more Lockhart, once again showing how self-centred he is (it’s surprising how little Kenneth Branagh is in the film actually, so this is welcome), and a tiny bit more Quidditch. There’s also a nod to a subplot with Filch that then doesn’t go anywhere, and one or two minor continuity errors are accidentally introduced (the most obvious is that Hermione tells Harry and Ron they’ll need to take Crabbe and Goyle’s uniforms when using the Polyjuice potion, but then in a new scene she’s stolen some).

The longest extension comes near the start, when Harry misspeaks while using Floo powder and ends up in the nasty part of Diagon Alley. In the theatrical version he just walks out of the creepy shop, but here he has to hide as Malfoys Senior and Junior enter to sell some items. Though it has the advantage of showing us how Lucius treats his son when out of sight of more respectable wizards, and possibly seeds something for later films (what is the one item Malfoy isn’t prepared to sell?), it dilutes the introduction of Jason Isaacs’ villain, which in the theatrical version came slightly later in the bookshop, where he bumps into Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys as they’re leaving Lockhart’s signing. It’s a more effective, more dramatic introduction to someone who will become a major character as the series progresses.

The film itself has held up well over the last 11 years, I think. Columbus was oft derided as a mediocre director at the time; a workmanlike filmmaker installed to simply guide the book faithfully to the screen. He’s not exactly an astounding presence behind the camera, but he’s more than adequate, and some sequences even exhibit flair. The biggest downside of the adaptation, once again screenwritten by Steve Kloves, is that it lacks tension. J.K. Rowling’s mystery-laden plot is very well constructed, but the adaptation doesn’t pay enough attention to hyping up that it is mysterious. The most glaring omission is that Ginny Weasley, so central to the denouement, barely appears until the finale. On the bright side, the lengthy running time does allow more space for all of the familiar characters to grow — particularly the three leads, who already feel considerably older than in the first film (and this in the only Potter film that was story-accurately shot exactly one year later).

There are, arguably, three notable additions to the cast this time out. The first is Lucius Malfoy who, as discussed, will come into his own later. Then there’s Gilderoy Lockhart, a preening wizard celebrity played with relish by Kenneth Branagh. He’s often very amusing and there’s not enough of him. And then there’s Dobby. Apparently Dobby is a beloved character; apparently kids really like him. I’ve always found him intensely irritating, and was surprised how much Rowling made me warm to him in Deathly Hallows. I thought that might make him more palatable at the start… but it doesn’t. He’s wonderfully realised, though — despite the age of the film, much of the CGI holds up really well.

Chamber of Secrets isn’t the best film the Harry Potter series has to offer — it lacks the introductory wonder of the first and the portentousness of later films. Viewed in isolation, it can also look like a total aside from the series’ main story arc… but, as those familiar with later events will know, there’s actually a lot of important stuff introduced (and, in some cases, dealt with) here. Whatever you think of Rowling as a writer, she did a helluva job plotting out her grand story over seven tales.

In a fortnight’s time, I aid and abet the Prisoner of Azkaban…

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone: Extended Version (2001/2004)

Posted on April 22, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Harry Potter and the Bastardised American Title

Originally created for the film’s US TV premiere in May 2004, then later released on the film’s Ultimate Edition in 2009 (and not making it to the UK in HD until the Wizard’s Collection last September), this Extended Version of the first Harry Potter film adds six-and-a-half minutes of new bits and bobs to the already lengthy adaptation.

Having not seen Philosopher’s Stone for something approaching a decade, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to spot what had been added, especially when the new inclusions were so small. And, indeed, I couldn’t — but the film all seemed so very familiar. As it turns out, there’s a very easy way to find out what’s new, as well as explain why it didn’t jump out at me: look in the disc’s deleted scenes section.

Included on the film’s original DVD release back in 2002, albeit under a series of frustrating mini-games, were six short deleted sequences and one extended one. I owned that DVD, and I found and watched those scenes… and it’s those and those alone that were added back into the film in 2004. I suppose that’s unsurprising really — they were fully mastered, and presumably if there’d been any more (or any more Chris Columbus was prepared for viewers to see) they would’ve been included on the DVD too. (If you own the US Ultimate Edition or any version of the Wizard’s Collection, the scenes can now be found in HD on the special features Blu-ray.)

So what’s new? A couple of snippets of the Dursleys, a bit with Harry and Hagrid on the way to Diagon Alley, an extended scene in Snape’s first class, an extra beat with the three leads after they defeat the troll in the bathroom, an introspective moment at Christmas, and a fuller version of the kids finally discovering who Nicholas Flamel is. (See all of that with pictures here.) Are any of these of great consequence? Not really. I presume the first three were cut to get to Hogwarts that bit quicker, while the classroom scene displays a petulance from Harry that isn’t entirely in keeping with how he’s been presented to that point. The others were, I suppose, sacrifices for time and pace, though as they’re so short in such a long film, they hardly make a mark.

As for the film itself, it holds up surprisingly well after 12 years and seven increasingly-dark follow-ups. The child actors aren’t that bad, all things considered; the adult cast are a constant delight; the CGI looks surprisingly good (some digital stunt doubles notwithstanding); John Seale’s cinematography looks gorgeously film-like on Blu-ray (especially when you take a look in some of the documentaries that merrily mix clips from all the films — Half-Blood Prince in particular looks like a horrendous mess of OTT digital post-production).

At the time Philosopher’s Stone received criticism for journeyman directing from Columbus and a too-faithful adaptation of Rowling’s novel. Ironically, one of the top threads on IMDb’s forum for the film now complains that it’s not faithful enough. The truth is closer to the former than the latter, but that doesn’t make it a bad film. True, it may struggle to convert those new to the world of Potter, and perhaps a Lord of the Rings-style brisk theatrical version followed by a more extensive and faithful Extended Edition would’ve been the way to go… but whereas every film of any quality can get such treatment these days, that wasn’t common practice back at the turn of the millennium (unless your name was Ridley Scott), so the filmmakers can’t be blamed for not doing it. As it stands, I think they mostly struck a fair balance between fidelity and the fact it’s an adaptation. Similarly, Columbus’ direction is rarely exemplary, but it’s competent with some memorable moments.

Even if the Extended Version makes little difference (even for fans it couldn’t be described as essential), I still enjoyed revisiting Philosopher’s Stone. It marks the beginning of an attempt to re-watch the entire saga over eight consecutive weeks, which will hopefully be both fun and interesting — already, I’m spotting links and connections to later events that wouldn’t have been apparent when first viewing the film. Harry Potter isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I think they’re an entertaining, well-put-together series of fantasy adventures. Plus, as child-driven worldwide media phenomena of the 21st Century go, it’s the only one I can think of that isn’t offensively awful.

Tomorrow, I open the Chamber of Secrets…

Big Trouble in Little China (1986)

Posted on April 11, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #22
John Carpenter | 96 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | USA / English | 15 / PG-13

Kurt Russell gets embroiled in a fever dream of mystical Chinese tomfoolery in San Francisco’s Chinatown in this cult ’80s adventure from writer/director John Carpenter.

Released as a mildly-edited PG in UK cinemas but afforded a semi-uncut 15 on video, it consequently passed me by in my childhood video rental days, which I think would’ve been the best time to see it. It doesn’t make much sense, it’s scrappy around the edges, but at times it exhibits a kind of loose fun and modest excitement. I can see why it appeals to those who saw it at the right age.

In the interests of completing my ever-growing backlog of reviews, I decided to post ‘drabble reviews’ of a few films. In the future I may update with something longer, but if I don’t, at least there’s something here for posterity.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, a drabble is a complete piece of writing exactly 100 words long.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012)

Posted on April 4, 2013 by badblokebob

So here we are: nine years after his last tour of duty in Middle-earth, and after a Guillermo del Toro-shaped attempt at not having to serve again, Peter Jackson returns to the world of hobbits, dwarves, elves, orcs, and the rest, to tell the tale some have been clamouring for him to make since Fellowship of the Ring turned out to be a film of landscape-changing brilliance over a decade ago. Well, a version of that tale, anyway.

The Hobbit, as I’m sure you know, sees a younger Bilbo Baggins (Ian Holm in The Lord of the Rings and a prologue here; Martin Freeman for the bulk of the film) coerced by the wizard Gandalf (Sir Ian McKellen again, of course) into joining a party of dwarves setting out to reclaim their gold and/or homeland, stolen by the dragon Smaug (that’s Smowg, not Smorg). In this version, emphasis is firmly on “homeland” rather than “gold”, and there’s a bunch of other stuff drawn in from the masses of appendices and associated material that J.R.R. Tolkien wrote about Lord of the Rings. In the process, Jackson and co have mutated The Hobbit from a simple tale of adventure that happens to take place in the same universe as The Lord of the Rings and has some shared characters and locations, and turned it into a film (well, a trilogy) that is both standalone adventure and grand prequel to his already-made epic.

There’s endless discussion to be had about the choices Jackson and co-screenwriters del Toro, Fran Walsh, and Philippa Boyens have made in this transformation of a beloved novel (and there’ll be even more in future parts, I should imagine, when they start introducing new characters they’ve created themselves). I can sympathise with those who wanted a single-film, straightforward, faithful adaptation of the novel (I sincerely hope there’s a fan edit to adequately fulfil that desire once the trilogy is complete); but there’s also so much in Tolkien’s world, much of it with direct (if inessential) relevance to Lord of the Rings, that it might have seemed a shame to miss this opportunity to get it on screen. And, I have to say, as someone who hasn’t read the novel since primary school, I couldn’t spot the joins. I could take some guesses, but not many, and considering how long the film is I’m sure there must be quite a lot added.

Putting aside questions of adaptation (others have already discussed that at great length and with much more authority than I), how does it survive as a film in its own right? The reviews have been mixed, but I would say it fares very well. It may lack the epic world-changing grandeur of Lord of the Rings, but as an epically-scaled action-adventure fantasy I found it to be most entertaining. It treads a tricky path mixing action, humour, world-building, politicking, legend, and plot, and some would assert some elements dominate more than they should, or are mishandled — I’ve heard the humour called too childish, the action too like a videogame, and so on. For me, the balance worked. It’s not perfect — it takes forty minutes for the cast to leave the opening location of Bag End, which is fine in a fan-pleasing extended edition but feels excessive in a theatrical cut — but it ticks enough boxes and hits enough bases to entertain. And at the end of the day, it is an entertainment.

I have to wonder if viewing at home affects one’s perception of The Hobbit’s length and pacing. For one thing, from a personal point of view, I saw all of the theatrical Lord of the Ringses in the cinema, and the Extended Editions only on DVD — coming to The Hobbit first on DVD, am I automatically associating it with the extended experience? Even as I write it, I think that’s a pretty spurious argument. More so, however, there’s all those factors of the home viewing experience that are often cited in its favour over the cinema: you can start when you want (no trailers!), pause for a snack or the loo or just the hell of it; and it’s also commensurate with, say, marathoning TV shows, where you might watch several hours in one go anyway. As it is, I didn’t pause The Hobbit once, watching it right through in one go as per the cinema — but I could have, and knowing you can do something makes all the difference. There’s also the little timer on the Blu-ray player, which means I can know that it took forty minutes to get out of Bag End rather than just thinking it feels like it. Does that somehow make it more palatable? Would I have been as bothered as others by the film’s length and pacing had I seen it in a cinema initially? It’s tough — nay, impossible — to say, because while there are those other subliminal factors, I also felt like I flat out enjoyed the film for itself, not just for my potential ability to escape it. But it is long and it is episodic, so maybe the association of watching individualistic episodes of TV back to back feeds into the acceptance of that? It’s a circular argument, so we’ll leave it there.

Besides issues of faithfulness and length, the film’s other big controversy (as if it didn’t have enough!) is the whole HFR argument, which seemed to plague all previews and early reviews. I can’t enter into that, but I can say it hasn’t filtered down to the Blu-ray experience — if it should look clearer and sharper and less motion-blurred-y, it doesn’t to any extent that stops it feeling like a Movie. The whole thing looks gorgeous, as you’d expect, though I won’t credit that to the cinematography lest Christopher Doyle comes round and gives me what for. In other technical fields, the make-up, models and CGI are all as up to snuff as you’d expect from this team. They’re probably exceptional, in fact, but hamstrung by the fact we expect them to be. If they’d fluffed something people would have noticed, but what could they do to stand out? Gollum may be better-realised than ever, but he was so good before that few will notice; other sequences, like the fighting rock giants, are awesome but perhaps get lost in the mix.

Howard Shore returns to deliver another fantastic score. After he composed the iconic Fellowship theme for, um, Fellowship, I thought he could never muster anything else as monumental. And, in fairness, that theme is still the defining aspect of the series’ score (its absence here is at times felt, by me at least); but he produced another excellent motif for Two Towers (Rohan), and Return of the King (Minas Tirith), and once again here, this time related to the dwarves. Much like John Williams on the Star Wars prequels, Shore is charged with retrofitting his score to begin before but ultimately dovetail with the following/preceding trilogy, and I think he pulls it off (as much as a musical dilettante like me can spot such things). Locations and characters familiar from Lord of the Rings come with their musical cues intact, which blend seamlessly with the new material. I hadn’t bothered to pre-order the soundtrack CD, but I hopped online to get it as soon as the film finished.

The Hobbit film trilogy will long remain a controversial subject. It was always going to. The book is a light children’s adventure tale, while Jackson is making the film in the context of a successful blockbuster epic set in a dark/realistic fantasy world — he couldn’t have made it too whimsical and still had it gel with the existing films. Plus: if he’d done a straightforward adaptation in a single film, would it have felt underwhelming? Does it need a ramped-up sense of the epic in order to compete with its chronological sequel? For Tolkien fans, no; for a mainstream audience, perhaps it does. And for the latter it clearly worked, taking over a billion dollars worldwide, albeit aided by 3D ticket prices.

Without the breadth and world-changing story of The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit was always going to be a somewhat smaller experience. By emphasising the backstory of the dwarves’ stolen homeland and the hints of war-to-come that will ultimately lead in to Rings’ story, Jackson has made it considerably more epic — for good or ill. For me, the whole experience clicked. I don’t think it’s as good as Lord of the Rings, but it is the next best thing.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is available in the UK on DVD, Blu-ray and via on-demand services from Monday 8th April.

My review of the Extended Edition can now be read here.

* According to the BBFC, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey runs 32 seconds longer on disc than in cinemas. I’ve no idea why. ^

Prometheus (2012)

Posted on March 29, 2013 by badblokebob

With all the furore this week over the (supposed) behind-the-scenes problems with attempts to launch Prometheus 2, it’s about time I posted my review of last year’s intended franchise-starter…

Ridley Scott’s not-an-Alien-prequel-honest Alien prequel is nothing if not divisive, with critics and fans alike declaring it to be a revelatory masterpiece, irredeemable faux-profound slop, and every point on the spectrum in between. I did my best to remain spoiler-free throughout the four months between its theatrical release and disc debut (crikey things reach DVD quickly these days!), though I did read a leaked plot description in advance that was reportedly decried as rubbish. I wish I could remember where I found it because I’d love to know if it matches up. Sadly I can’t remember the details, but obviously something stuck — and therefore it was right — because I was singularly unsurprised by the majority of Prometheus’ story. But that doesn’t necessarily matter if the film is any good, and Prometheus… well…

The first half is quite good, in a slow, meaningful kind of way. Even at that point there’s doubts: some of what occurs is just unnecessary detail; shots and scenes that seem consciously designed to give it a slow pace rather than stuff we actually need to see.

The second half is batshit crazy. It abandons the thoughtful Serious Science Fiction trappings for schlocky body/creature horror, and in the process abandons the semblance of making sense. Plot holes glare at you. Characters make unfounded leaps of logic. It feels like whole scenes or sequences are missing. Indeed, quickly scanning through the disc’s description of some of the deleted scenes, it looks like they might explain some of the film’s gaps. I presume there’s a good reason they were cut though… right…?

And then, to top it off, it doesn’t have a real ending! They may as well slap “to be continued” on screen, such is the obvious lack of conclusion. It’s immensely frustrating, only to be topped off with a “in case we don’t get the sequel” bit of connective tissue to the Alien series. Mysteries and unanswered questions aren’t a problem in and of themselves — there are plenty in Prometheus’ franchise forbears, the first in particular — but they’re not the kind that require answers: their stories work as a discrete unit; who the Space Jockey is, or how the aliens came to be, and so on, are set dressing. Conversely, the gaps in Prometheus are in the primary narrative. There would be an argument for it being a thematic point — a Bergman-esque ‘silence from the Gods’ — but the starkness of that ending, as clear a cliffhanger as either of the first two Lord of the Ringses, undermines that. It fairly screams, “there’s more to come! See the next film for the answers!” And that isn’t on, because that isn’t what we were promised — this isn’t Prometheus: The Fellowship of the Prometheus, with Prometheus: The Two Planets already shot and scheduled for next year, and the trilogy-forming conclusion Prometheus: The Return of the Alien for the year after that; it’s just Prometheus, full stop, the sole definitive article. But it isn’t.

The sense that everything’s been cobbled together in the current blockbuster fashion of “keep writing even while shooting” extends right down to things like character development; even to individual scenes. Take Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green), for instance. He’s a dick. I’ve no sympathy when it all goes wrong for him because he’s not at all likeable. What’s somewhat ironic is that the deleted scenes note at least one sequence was re-shot to try to make him more sympathetic. And, funnily enough, I remember during that scene in the film thinking it was about the only time he seemed even vaguely appealing (even then, only relatively). Just one of many such apparently-bungled elements in the film.

No character is fully developed. Some barely register, suggesting too big a cast, while others suffer from being plain stupid, or doing inexplicably stupid things, or just piss-poor acting. There’s some thing made about Shaw (Noomi Rapace) being religious or a true believer or something, but it’s not properly explained and doesn’t go anywhere. David (Michael Fassbender) and the way he’s treated by the other characters are both very interesting areas, and clearly of huge thematic resonance, but he acts inconsistently for no obvious reason, and despite the horrendous things he does to Shaw at one point, she just gets on with him again in the next scene, and… well, that’s far from being the film’s only plot hole or inconsistency.

At one point a character escapes a situation only to be killed off in a different one. If that sounds like a reasonable thing to do, that’s because I’m trying to avoid spoiling parts of the climax. It’s not a particularly reasonable thing to do, though; it plays as “here’s a cool death”. I’ve not read multiple versions of the script or read interviews with the writers or listened to their commentary (yet), but one does wonder if Damon Lindelof was brought in to pull back on some of the Science Fiction (with a capital SF) and build up the blockbuster-y elements, because that’s what said cool death feels like: a film constructed from “what would look cool? What haven’t we seen?” rather than “what are we trying to say?” I have no problem with the former in its rightful place (Tomorrow Never Dies has the awesome bike chase because it was the antithesis of GoldenEye’s tank chase, for one ready example), but a film that sets out its stall around Concepts is not the right place.

The daft thing is, I think a lot of people would’ve been happy if it had chosen to just go all-out as a schlocky alien horror movie. That’s what Alien is: an exceptionally well-made haunted house movie in space. There’s no shame in that (well, maybe in cinéaste circles, but pish.) But that’s not where Prometheus pitches itself. There’s too much other stuff for it to be just that; stuff that’s apparently aiming to be Profound. So when the horror does turn up, it doesn’t belong.

It does all look bloody gorgeous, from the real landscapes to the CGI. It was shot by Dariusz Wolski, whose previous credits include all four Pirateses and not much else that would suggest a remarkable skill. But sod a pixel-generated tiger, these vistas surely deserved recognition. (But then I’ve not seen the tiger movie, so…) I didn’t see it in 3D, obviously, but it certainly looks like it was shot for the format. Not because there’s stuff poking out at you, thank goodness, but look how light it all is, especially compared to the original Alien. I’m sure the scenery had lovely depth.

A side effect of such format-hopping is a debate on the correct aspect ratio: it was reportedly shown at 1.66:1 on IMAX, 2.00:1 on IMAX Digital, and 2.35:1 otherwise (the Blu-ray remains at 2.4:1 throughout). I have no idea whether the IMAX was opened out or cropped, though I’d imagine the former, which does make you ponder why they didn’t just use that everywhere, especially on home formats. I guess 2.4:1 must be Scott’s preferred ratio… but is that OK? Should we lament the missing top and bottom? I dunno. More interested parties than I have debated this at length, if you fancy scouring the web for it.

Prometheus is a funny old beast, then. There’s lots of good stuff in there, but also lots of baffling decisions and confusing shifts of tone, emphasis, style… Considering it was made by an experienced master-filmmaker, who was presumably granted all the time, freedom and money he wanted to craft the film he desired, it’s baffling how it ended up feeling like such a hodge-podge. Many fans have blamed Lindelof, brought in late on to re-write the screenplay; but considering Scott ruined Robin Hood by ditching an innovative, exciting screenplay for a stock this-is-real-history re-telling of the legend, perhaps the blame lies at his door. He’s reached a point where he can order anyone to change anything and it will be done (writers have no power in Hollywood, after all). Perhaps, at 75 now, he’s lost the ability to spot a good script; or perhaps he just tinkers because he feels he must, because he’s the director and he’s in charge.

Whatever. Here he’s turned in a scrappy, confusing, but not meritless movie; one that will probably endure thanks to its franchise connections, its moments of clarity, and its intense controversy. It’s not a good film, but it’s kind of a fascinating one.

Conan the Barbarian (1982)

Posted on March 22, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #31
John Milius | 125 mins* | TV | 2.35:1 | USA / English | 15 / R

Most films have a reputation of one kind or another, even if it’s only in certain circles and you have to go searching to find it. I suppose Conan’s is best summed up by its status on iCheckMovies: it appears on one official list, the 500 Essential Cult Movies; a list of films so cult-y, I’ve only seen 98 of them. So it’s not a film of great critical acclaim, or box office success; heck, it’s not even on the Empire 500, which surprised me because I’d always thought it was fairly popular — I mean, they bothered to remake it!

You may recall I didn’t care for the remake. Nothing new in that. Unfortunately, I didn’t much care for the original either.

Actually, that’s a mite unfair. I watched the film in two halves, and while the first almost bored me (to be blunt, I fell asleep halfway through; though it wasn’t wholly the film’s fault), the second was more entertaining. The first is episodic, a series of near-disconnected sequences telling Conan’s life story. Towards the middle, the last few of these coalesce into a series of events that drive the film into a proper narrative, which takes us through to the end.

John Milius, directing and co-writing (with, of all people, Oliver Stone), chooses to play much of the film with very little dialogue. It’s a striking effect that often pays off, both creating a sense of an epic story passed down the ages (how often, if someone tells you a tale from myth or legend, is there dialogue?), and minimising the potentially negative effects of his cast. For all his skill as an action man, Arnie is hardly a great actor. The guy doing the voiceover narration is godawful though, and there’s far too much of him. It’s never made clear why he’s the one telling the story either, unless I missed it.

Telling the story visually allows Milius to conjure up some fantastic visuals on occasion. The murder of Conan’s mother is a particularly striking moment, as is the way Conan is aged from preteen moppet to muscly Arnie mere minutes later. A giant temple teeming with disciples offers multiple instances for impressive shots, the huge set and numerous extras creating a sense of scale that CGI will never match. Then there are the action sequences, again somehow heightened without people yelling meaningless nothings at each other. Conan and friends raiding the temple to rescue the princess, and the subsequent graveyard battle, are two particular standouts.

In places the film has aged badly. It looks more ’70s than ’80s, which considering it’s from the start of the decade shouldn’t be a surprise. Not that that’s a problem, just an observation, albeit one that perhaps emphasises age. Much of it looks good, but for every expertly-realised giant snake there’s the two villainous henchman who look like Spinal Tap rejects.

Most of the film is actually a well-realised fantasy landscape (shot in Spain, which I think helps — America always somehow looks like America on screen, whether it’s doubling for a fantasy world or an alien planet or even just another country), but those two kicked me out of it every time they showed up.

My initial assessment of Conan was possibly a bit harsh, born of finding the first half of the film a struggle. The second half, while not perfect, has much more to commend it. The film ends with a “there’s much more story to be told” epilogue (even though the film tells a complete tale in itself — take note, present franchise filmmakers!), which does lead me to want to see the sequel, even if those who love even this hate it. We’ll (and by that obviously I mean “I’ll”) see.

* There are goodness-knows-how-many different versions of Conan. I watched one of them. (I think it was fairly uncut though). ^

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