Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (2009)

Posted on October 18, 2013 by badblokebob

The island town of Swallow Falls exists for one purpose: sardines; the fishing, packing, and distribution thereof. But when the world suddenly realises that sardines are gross, the town’s economy is left in tatters and the only foodstuff the islanders have is sardines. (While we’re on the glum bit, the location of Swallow Falls is identical to the real-world location of Bermuda, except in this reality almost every inhabitant is Caucasian and the island is indisputably part of the US. This is why you don’t scrutinise the geopolitics of kids’ movies, especially American ones.)

However, genius young inventor Flint Lockwood (Bill Hader) invents a machine that can turn water into any food you ask for. When he accidentally fires it off into the atmosphere, it begins to rain burgers, and it looks like the town’s fortunes will face a massive change. But is that all for the best, etc etc etc.

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs has a silly title, a silly premise, and I thought it looked kinda silly too, which is why I didn’t bother with it before. A bit like How to Train Your Dragon, really, because then I began to hear good things about it, and when I found myself with the offer of a free Blu-ray (for reasons too dull to go into) I picked this on a whim (and because the other choices were pathetic — I mean, I could pick two, and the other I got was Resident Evil 4 just because I have the first three on DVD. I’ve not even watched the first two sequels, and I only thought the original film was OK. But I digress…)

And, again much like Dragon, Cloudy subverts first impressions by actually being really good. And I mean that as in “good for adults”, not just “good for kids” — not an unworthy aim, and something Cloudy also achieves, but not a main consideration in my personal assessment of things. The main selling point is that it’s very funny. Of course there’s the slapstick cartoon humour, which is well done, but there’s also a lot of great one-liners, random asides, and the like. Not ‘adult jokes’ by any means, but I think it makes the film fun for grown-ups too.

There’s also subplots that deal with why it’s OK to be a nerd/geek/whatever the term is this week, and why that’s better in the long-run (perfect for school-aged kids, I guess); and another about female empowerment, which is probably the kind of thing that ought to be in kids’ movies more often. Not that they don’t have their share of strong or equal female leads, but… well, maybe they do. That’s a Big Discussion for another time, but it’s something I think Cloudy handles notably well. Sure, it’s framed partly in a fairly traditional romance narrative, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a problem.

I suppose themes of acceptance by society and/or your family, of finding your place in the world, and of proving your worth, are all regular topics of kids’ movies — the “I feel different but I want to fit in” thing seems to be pretty universal. But Cloudy succeeds in making many of these feel fresh, and surrounds it with such fun that even if it didn’t you probably wouldn’t care.

This is buoyed by an array of memorable characters, voiced by a moderately starry cast all giving quality performances. Bruce Campbell is particularly noticeable as the mayor, though Neil Patrick Harris is slightly wasted as Steve the monkey. He’s a very funny character, but that’s in the writing, directing and animation — the voice work is spectacularly minimal. Apparently Harris was offered the lead but turned it down for the “more interesting” part of Steve. Nothing against Hader, but if I were the directors I’d have tried to persuade him to do both.

One final thing I particularly liked was the pace. It seems silly to criticise some 90-minute movies for not getting on with things, but almost inevitably you know scenes or moments, or even whole plot threads, will turn up to slow things down, even in otherwise entertaining films. Not so here. It moves like the clappers through the main plot, the sequences devoted to subplots aren’t tedious (even the romance one), and — perhaps indicative of the speed it’s moving at — the climax starts halfway through the film! That’s not an exaggeration: the events that form the film’s final-act grand-finale begin around the 42-minute mark. You’d think that would unbalance the film, toppling it under the weight of the entire second half being what most films deal with in the final quarter, but no, because it’s still moving at such a rate that you don’t notice. Well, clearly I did notice — but, most importantly, I didn’t mind.

In fact, the only criticism I have is the end credits song. It’s by some Disney pop-brat, it’s called Raining Sunshine, and it’s exactly as dreadful as that sounds. But the actual music in the film is good, particularly the action-movie-esque theme that plays on the Blu-ray menu, so there’s that.

I should probably learn to stop writing off non-Pixar animated movies so readily (and, based on what I’ve heard and seen of their last few efforts, maybe slacken off on the Pixar love. I say that as if it’s news — plenty of people already have; and I’ve never been wholly on that bandwagon anyway. But I digress…) Big, bold, colourful, funny and exciting, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is the kind of film I imagine a lot of kids love and watch on loop. In the process they may even be learning some Important Moral Lessons, which, crucially, aren’t too heavy-handed. Many of these aspects work for adults too. I don’t know if you’d want to watch it on loop, but you may certainly want to watch it again.

The UK free-TV premiere of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is at 4:20pm this Sunday, 18th October, on Channel 5.

Previews of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 are in UK cinemas this weekend, with the film on wide release from next Friday, 25th October.

A Trip to the Moon (1902)

Posted on October 14, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Le Voyage dans la lune

2013 #2a
Georges Méliès | 16 mins | DVD | 1.33:1 | France / silent | U

Of all the defining images of cinema — certainly of the silent era — the face on the Moon with a rocket in its eye must be one of the most recognised, though you have to wonder how many have actually seen Méliès’ full vision. More than it could have been, though, because A Trip to the Moon was so popular that, in the copyright-lax world of early cinema, it was widely copied and ripped-off; the kind of thing that destroyed Méliès’ career and, along with it, much of his work.

Unsurprisingly for a film only quarter of an hour long, the plot is quite straightforward: a group of gentlemen are shot out of a giant cannon in a little bullet-shaped craft (not that far from how we actually ended up getting to space), which crashes on the Moon, where they meet a race of man-sized insect-ish creatures (I believe this also happened to the crew of Apollo 11), kill most of them (that too), and take one back to Earth as a slave/performing monkey (now that’s just silly).

As you can see, the politics of the film have dated somewhat… though it’s not a world away from the storyline of some blockbusters — just make the aliens more overtly threatening and the slave a willing volunteer and you’re there. What’s equally remarkable are the similarities to actual space missions — not only what I’ve already mentioned, but the craft splashing back into the sea at the end, for instance. In fairness, this could be as much coincidence as design, because there are plenty of other bits that are way off the mark.

But Méliès wasn’t making a documentary, he was making an entertainment. Indeed, the analogy to a blockbuster is a good one, because this is essentially the turn-of-the-century equivalent. The fantastical sets, costumes and story are all designed to wow the viewer — and remember, we’re only a few years on from people diving out of the way of film of a train arriving in a station.

The spectacle is even more evident in the hand-coloured version, which is what I watched. Discovered in 1993 but (for various reasons) not fully restored until 2011, it made its public (re-)debut at Cannes and was released on UK DVD at the tail end of last year (if you have deep pockets, there’s a pricey Blu-ray version available from Flicker Alley in the US). The colours are vibrant and rainbow-like, though somehow not garish. They emphasise the fantastical nature of the journey very well, and this kind of thing must’ve been a sight to punters familiar with only black-and-white images. From a technical point of view, considering the film was hand-painted frame-by-frame, it’s amazing how consistent and stable the colours are.

This version comes with a new soundtrack by French electronic music duo AIR. It’s somewhere between obtrusive and exciting, depending on your predilections. Whatever it is, it’s certainly not period-authentic.

A Trip to the Moon is a defining moment in cinema, undoubtedly a must-see for cinephiles. But, more than an obligation, it’s an entertaining experience in its own right; a burst of imaginative storytelling and impressive technical achievement, even more so in the coloured version.

See also my review The Extraordinary Voyage, a documentary about Méliès and the recovery and restoration of this silent print, here.

The Dinosaur Project (2012)

Posted on September 25, 2013 by badblokebob

Found footage movies, eh? You either love them or hate them. Well, plenty of people hate them. I don’t mind them — it’s fast becoming an unoriginal idea (“existing genre + found footage = exciting new idea” is a sum that stopped working a couple of years ago), but if it’s done well, of course it still works.

The Dinosaur Project is a low-budget entry in a genre which you’d think would be awash with low-budget entries, and perhaps it is, but I’ve not encountered many of them. That said, it was shot in South Africa and has some impressive CGI, so it actually looks the part of a pricier endeavour. OK, you’re not going to confuse it with a Cloverfield-level experience, but nor does it look like something a few YouTubers knocked up down the park on a Sunday afternoon.

The story concerns a group of present-day explorers heading into the jungle to find dinosaurs. Lead explorer-man’s son tags along for various contrived reasons, and because he is Young and Hip he brings a bunch of cameras that he’s constantly recording from, hence the found footage thing. And the footage is “found” rather than “returned” because, of course, Things Go Wrong. What things I won’t say, but it will surprise no one that they do indeed uncover some dinosaurs.

Essentially, then, it’s a cut-price Jurassic Park, offering the same kind of “run away from the monsters!” thrills in a Modern way. And I don’t think it does it badly at all. If you hate the found footage phenomenon then this is going to do nothing to convert you, but if you don’t mind it, I think there’s a solid piece of entertainment in here. And if you actively like it then perhaps this is one of the better entries. It certainly has plenty of incident, which is more than can be said for some of them.

Plus, if you want to marvel at technical wizardy, the CGI and how it interacts with the real world is actually quite well done, especially bearing in mind the budget. I suppose we don’t notice such things in big-budget movies any more, because we know they can do it, but it does stand out in these low budget efforts. Which it shouldn’t. And doesn’t, unless you’re looking. Anyway.

The Dinosaur Project isn’t going to blow anyone’s mind, but as an adventure/horror-with-dinosaurs movie it’s a solid little thriller. It only runs for a brisk 83 minutes, too.

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (2007)

Posted on September 23, 2013 by badblokebob

aka 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer

The Fantastic Four are the kind of superhero team that people in comics think are a big deal but the wider world aren’t so fussed about, as proven by the lack of success of their two film outings versus the likes of X-Men and The Avengers, not to mention all the other non-team heroes.

That said, the quality of the films themselves doesn’t help much. The first was a woeful wannabe blockbuster, an expensive cheap-looking effort that lacked either entertainment or polish. Somehow it earnt this follow-up. It’s better than the first, though that’s really not saying much.

The plot is nothing to do with the increasing prevalence of geriatric web users (though, to be frank, that might’ve been more interesting), but instead sees a metallic-hued alien surfer (the kind of thing that washes in comics but is a bit “wtf?” when just plonked into the cinema) arriving on Earth and starting to make holes in the planet. He’s the herald for a giant gas cloud thing that’s going to come and eat our world. So that’s not good. One way or another, the titular family get involved in trying to stop this disaster.

For a film with world-ending consequences, it all feels a little slight and lacking in scale. I’d say it feels “of its era” — a slightly indefinable feeling based on not only the quality of its CGI but also the cinematography, the choice of locations, the tone and pace… — but it’s less of its era, more a few (or more) years earlier. It’s six years old now, but it feels more. That’s something I noted about the first film too, interestingly.

It’s also the kind of film where the US military have jurisdiction Everywhere In The World, which is again the kind of thing that used to just slide but doesn’t seem appropriate any more. Apparently the General character was originally meant to be Nick Fury — if it had been S.H.I.E.L.D., rather than the US military, at least that part might’ve made sense.

Although this is an improvement on the near-meritless first movie, it’s still not any great shakes. Hopefully the reboot coming in 18 months won’t be so disappointing.

The Tempest (2010)

Posted on September 6, 2013 by badblokebob

Film and theatre director Julie Taymor (infamous now for Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark) here brings us a radical-seeming interpretation of Shakespeare’s final play. The main character’s changed gender! There’s CGI being tossed about everywhere! It’s got Russell Brand in it! If that sounds superficial, it is. Taymor’s film is still set in the Elizabethan period, in Elizabethan dress (broadly speaking), with a cast of mostly classical actors, enacted on an island that is admittedly a stunning setting but is nonetheless where the original play is set. If it’s a “modern retelling of William Shakespeare” (per the blurb), it perhaps missed what Baz Luhrmann brought to the table 14 years earlier.

Or perhaps not. Just because a temporal re-staging worked for one adaptation doesn’t mean they all have to do it, and Taymor’s adaptation is still packed with modernist flourishes. But that’s the thing: they’re flourishes. Luhrmann reconstructed Shakespeare in a way that worked for modern audiences, leaving the text untouched but adorning it with visual and stylistic touches that made it fresh and relatable for a new audience. Taymor may throw in some cool stuff, like a three-storey high Ariel setting a ship afire in a storm, or Russell Brand speaking how Russell Brand speaks, but there’s nothing in the surrounding work to appeal to the kind of audience who might think a ship on fire in a storm or Russell Brand being Russell Brand would fit nicely into the next Pirates of the Caribbean film that they’re really excited for.

I studied The Tempest at university and rather enjoyed it. It’s not too long, it has some striking ideas, and, as I remember it, it’s not too deep or complex, really. On screen, that doesn’t come across. It goes on in the middle, a mess of scenes of characters traipsing about the island for no apparent reason. (This reminded me of A Field in England a little, actually: a group of people who don’t know what’s going on wandering through a weird supernatural landscape having tangential conversations.) When describing the plot the Shakespearean dialogue is clear enough to follow, but the story seems to be set in motion at the start and then put aside to be resolved at the end, with meandering asides in between. Either that’s Shakespeare’s fault or Taymor bungled it in her execution. Or I missed something.

It may be easy to jump on criticisms of the film — as many have, judged by its low scores on Rotten Tomatoes and IMDb — but there is quality here. The cast is filled with recognisable names and faces, which naturally pays off in many instances. In the lead, Helen Mirren turns Prospero into Prospera, a transition so faultless you’d well believe it’s how it was written. She’s obviously a strong actress and delivers a powerful nuanced performance, justifying a gender change that would otherwise be labelled needless. Supporting roles are bolstered by names like Ben Whishaw (Olivier-nominated at just 24 for his Hamlet, lest we forget), Tom Conti, David Straitharn, Chris Cooper, Alan Cumming, Alfred Molina, and the latest constant-up-and-comer, Felicity Jones. If anything some of them are underused. By “some” I really mean Straitharn, who doesn’t have a great deal to tackle as King Alonso. Conti, Cooper and Cumming fare best, with Whishaw hampered by all the effects he’s buried in.

Another key role sees Djimon Hounsou as the slave Caliban, immediately suggesting a colonialist reading that isn’t exactly a huge reach anyway. And Russell Brand makes Shakespeare sound like Russell Brand talking, which at some points I’m not convinced he isn’t (I’ve no idea if Taymor allowed him to stray from the text or not). Love interest is provided by Reeve Carney. I’ve never heard of him, but he’s young and quite pretty and has a music video on the Blu-ray, so I guess he’s from that kind of arena. He speaks with an English accent, but so does everyone else (bar Caliban and the boatswain), so he may still be sourced from the other side of the pond’s teenybopper scene.

Talking of music, Elliot Goldenthal’s score also aligns itself with the film’s modern CGI-bolstered take on the material: it squeals with electric guitars and thunders with drums, evoking so many other computer-accented history-set films of recent years. It took me a while to recall what in particular it most reminded me of, but eventually realised it was 300. I checked that they didn’t share a composer, though that did lead me to notice that Goldenthal is listed on IMDb as providing uncredited stock music for 300. So there you go.

The most striking thing about the film is the visuals. Stuart Dryburgh’s cinematography sometimes offers up breathtaking imagery, aided by beautiful shooting locations in Hawaii, largely sparse and barren places with dramatic coastal settings. And then there’s the lashings of CGI, which render Ariel as a truly spiritual spirit, half invisible and jetting off into the sky on a regular basis. I found his realisation a mixed bag: it’s nice to take advantage of the medium to render the spirit in a way that’s impossible on stage, but sometimes it goes a bit far and looks a bit cheap. They’ve also tried to make him androgynous, but done it a bit weirdly: he’s always naked, occasionally making it clear he has no penis, sometimes has small breasts, but always has a moderately deep, clearly manly voice. Show it to a class of teenagers studying the play and you may illicit some confused feelings… That aside, the make-up effects are brilliant. Caliban’s patchwork skin is the best piece of work, but Ariel’s rendering as a giant crow is a fearsome sight as well. For all I know the latter may count as costume design, which is what earnt the film an Oscar nomination. But, hey, the clothes are nice too.

Taymor’s rendering of The Tempest is the kind of film you might dub a fascinating failure. It’s a bizarre mash-up of classical interpretation and modern filmmaking, and I don’t think it’s unfair to call the latter superficial flourishes rather than fundamental revelations. The story wanders, the humour isn’t funny, the visuals swing between a bit cheap and memorably staggering, there are strong performances but others that, while not out of their depth, do sit awkwardly. Some people will despise it, but I don’t know if anyone will love it. I’d have liked to, and early on I thought I might, but then it lost its way.

It would be nice to say the magic and fantasy could convert new fans to Shakespeare, much as Leo DiCaprio and swishy editing did for teens nearly two decades ago, but there’s nothing beyond that trailer-friendly neat-looking stuff to convince them it was worth their time. Meanwhile, Shakespeare traditionalists may find it all a bit much. If that leaves it stranded on an ill-located isle of terrible beauty, then at least it’s an apt fate.

The UK TV premiere of The Tempest is on BBC Two and BBC Two HD tonight at 11:05pm. Note it’s not available on Blu-ray in the UK, so if you want to see it in HD, now’s your chance.

Underworld Awakening (2012)

Posted on August 12, 2013 by badblokebob

Just when you think the Underworld series is dead, it suddenly lurches back to life with a new instalment. Fitting for a series all about vampires & that, I suppose.

Having diverted to a prequel telling us a story we largely already knew, here we rejoin Selene (Kate Beckinsale), last seen six years ago (real world time) in Underworld Evolution, which was very much Part 2 to the original film’s Part 1. They told a pretty complete tale, actually, so rather than try to find something there, Awakening launches into something new. Following a two minute recap of the first two movies (it’s so long ago that this is actually very handy), a quick-cut prologue-y bit tells us that the long-secret war between vampires and Lycans (aka werewolves) was discovered by humans, who set about wiping them out. Trying to escape, Selene’s crossbreed lover Michael (Scott Speedman) is killed and she gets frozen… only to wake up however-many-years later into a changed world… And so on and so forth. Escapes, shooting, action-y-business all ensues.

Said violence is very bloody and brutal, much more like the second film — I swear the first (especially) and third weren’t anything like as gory. Evolution well earnt its 18 certificate, after a very 15 first film, and quite surprised me at the time. This isn’t as extreme as that, but still. The main drama and attraction in the Underworld series lies in the vampires-vs-werewolves-with-modern-tech concept, not in ripping off limbs or spurting blood or whatever. Or maybe that’s just me.

By taking such a bold move with the plot, meanwhile, the story pushes the series’ mythology in new and relatively interesting ways. It’s becoming a bit dense and fan-only (unless you let it wash over you and just enjoy the punching), but at least they’re not regurgitating the same old stuff. It manages a few twists along the way too, which is always nice. The plot seems to have been half worked around Speedman’s non-involvement, leading me to wonder why — he’s not too busy, surely? Perhaps he’d just had enough? But no, apparently it was genuinely just written this way. I guess he couldn’t be bothered to turn up for some cameo shots, because the stand-in is really obvious.

Also glaringly obvious is the set-up for a sequel. Not so much as the first film, which had such an End of Part One feel (including a direct cliffhanger) that the sequel picked up mere hours later. But this is still a story obviously incomplete (again, there’s a sort of cliffhanger), but at least it has the courtesy to… actually, no, it’s only as complete as the first film. The main narrative drive is resolved, but other bits are blatantly open.

But it didn’t seem to go down too well, so what are the chances of us seeing it continued? Well, as we’ve learnt, you can never write the Underworld series off. And its niche fanbase, semi-independent production, and relatively long three-year gap between sequels means the next one will probably turn up out of the blue with little hype, much as Awakening did last year. Plus, though this is the most expensive film to date (double the budget of the preceding one!), it’s also the most financially successful: $160.1 million worldwide, beating number two’s $111.3 million. Assuming Beckinsale still feels up for it, I imagine 2015 will bring us a continuation — and, hopefully, a conclusion.

The higher budget and higher gross I mentioned are surely both down to one thing: 3D. Shooting in proper 3D (as opposed to the ever-so-popular post-conversion) costs a fortune, as a producer reveals in the BD’s bonus features, but it can also net you more money at the box office thanks to that 3D premium. Such a gamble hasn’t paid off for everyone (Dredd), but it clearly did here (how the hell did Underworld 4 make four-and-a-half times as much money as Dredd?!) Watching in 2D, it’s clear that some sequences were designed with 3D in mind — not in the way that, say, Saw 3D or The Final Destination sometimes only make sense with added depth, but in ways where 3D would (I imagine) enhance the visuals. There are some instances of stuff flying at the camera, a popular sticking point for the anti-3D crowd, but that’s actually been part and parcel of Underworld’s style since the start (just watch a trailer for the first film — there was a shot of it used prominently in most of the marketing).

Also worthy of commendation: new-style ‘evolved’ Lycans; a small role for Charles Dance (always worth seeing); the evocative near-future setting; good quality action sequences; some nice steel-blue cinematography/grading. Some of it was shot at 120fps on brand-new pre-alpha never-used RED cameras — take that Peter Jackson, eh. Plus it’s only a little over 1 hour and 18 minutes long without credits. Some would bemoan such brevity, but it has its positives.

I’ve always quite liked the Underworld series, even if the first one is still clearly the best. Awakening gets most kudos for taking things in a new direction, even if, as a film in itself, it’s only OK.

Underdog (2007)

Posted on July 10, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #5
Frederik Du Chau | 74 mins | TV | 16:9 | USA / English | U / PG

In this big screen live-action version of some old US cartoon, a dog gets superpowers and, naturally, becomes a superhero. That’s pretty much it.

The film is widely disliked, it seems, with a very low rating on IMDb; but I thought it was actually good fun. It’s not Citizen Kane, but it’s not trying to be — it’s a kids’ comedy-adventure, and kids will get the most out of it, but it also has enough wit and charm to see it through for some older viewers.

And there’s Peter Dinklage as the raving villain — you know that’s got to be good.

In the interests of completing my ever-growing backlog, I decided to post ‘drabble reviews’ of some films. One day I may update with a longer piece, but 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.

Dungeons & Dragons: The Book of Vile Darkness (2012)

Posted on June 24, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #33
Gerry Lively | 86 mins | TV | 1.78:1 | UK / English | 15 / PG-13 *

Remember the Dungeons & Dragons film from 2000? To say it went down badly is an understatement. Nonetheless, they made a sequel with some returning cast (which I’ve not seen), which I doubt fared any better and maybe went straight to DVD. This one is again low-budget, and possibly was made for TV, but it’s all-new; and though form hardly suggests it will be any good, I was on a bit of a fantasy binge and it was on TV, so…

And yes, it is rubbish… I suppose… Thing is, it sort of grew on me. For all I know they may’ve shot it in order, because it feels like the production grows in competency as it goes on. From a start that looks like a fan film shot in someone’s garden, by the time our hero teams up with a ragtag gang of evil-doers it begins to come together. Such is the plot: a band of adventurers do some adventuring. Proper D&D, I guess. In a neat twist on the usual formula, the gang we follow for most of the film are nearly all villains, the only exception being our hero who has infiltrated them. Are there even badder baddies who’ll make the (remaining) members of the gang turn out good after all? Well, of course.

Even though I ended up liking it, let’s be honest: The acting never gets good, though one chap, Barry Aird, delivers his handful of good lines with aplomb, even managing to make the ludicrously clichéd ones sound half decent. He’s easily the best thing in the film. The screenplay isn’t much cop, the story and dialogue both riddled with clichés and the like… though I think some of the dialogue is better than the actors can manage with it. And for all the laughable stuff, I’m sure some of it was meant to be humorous, like when Sexy Witch Lady pushes Random Strumpet aside and there’s an almighty crash. And there’s an undead kid who is properly creepy.

Director Gerry Lively helmed the preceding D&D movie and some stuff you’ve never heard of, as well as serving as DoP on such auspicious-sounding films as Son of Darkness: To Die For II, Waxwork II: Lost in Time, Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth, Return of the Living Dead III, and Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest. Clearly cheap-sequels-no-one-wanted are his stomping ground. His direction is never more than television-y, although that’s an increasingly unfair description as more and more TV programmes become more and more movie-like; but as that’s still the high-end ones, I guess the derogatoriness holds for now. It’s not helped by editing that is occasionally bizarrely jumpy, as if someone thought it would be OK to skip a second or two just to speed things up.

One area I’m happy to flatly praise are the computer effects. Done by a Bulgarian company (which is where the film was shot), these are largely very good. No, we’re not talking Avatar level here, obviously, but for a direct-to-DVD/TV film they were pretty classy.

Despite its low-rent stylings across the board, The Book of Vile Darkness somehow won me round. It’s not going to compete for genre break-out status, never mind anything greater, but for anyone after a well-intentioned sword-and-sorcery movie, they could do worse.

Dungeons & Dragons: The Book of Vile Darkness is on Syfy UK (Sky 114; Virgin 135, HD 165) tonight at 12:10am, and again on Thursday at 11pm.

* IMDb says this is the US rating, but that seems improbable: they list it as direct to TV, which wouldn’t use the MPAA system; and even if it wasn’t, it contains breasts. Americans don’t seem to like their under-17s seeing breasts. ^

The Harry Potter Films of David Yates

Posted on June 14, 2013 by badblokebob

Harry Potter and the
Order of the Phoenix
2013 #45a
Original review here.

.
Harry Potter and the
Half-Blood Prince
2013 #47a
Original review here.

.
Harry Potter and the
Deathly Hallows: Part 1
2013 #48a
Original review here.

.
Harry Potter and the
Deathly Hallows: Part 2
2013 #52a
Original review here.

2007-2011 | 568 mins | Blu-ray | 2.40:1 | UK & USA / English | 12 / PG-13

When David Yates joined the Harry Potter series halfway through, as the director of its fifth instalment, his main prior experience was in TV — quite a change from the series’ track record, which had included acclaimed or successful movie directors. But he seemed a wise choice nonetheless: one of his stand-out works on TV was State of Play, a complex conspiracy series that suggested he’d be the right man to handle Order of the Phoenix for two reasons. Firstly, the novel includes a significant ‘resistance thriller’ aspect, similar to the edgy underground-investigation style of State of Play. Secondly, the lengthy novel was to be condensed into a single reasonable-length film, necessitating an ability to tell a story clearly and concisely. State of Play may not have been concise (it’s a six-hour story, after all), but it was complicated and it was clear.

The resulting film is, arguably, one of the series’ strongest because it is so different to the others. If the much-discussed ‘darkening’ of the films really kicked in with Goblet of Fire and the death of Cedric Diggory, Phoenix only cements this tone. Our heroes are persecuted throughout — and not just the lead kids, but Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts establishment too, as a Ministry of Magic in denial about the return of Voldemort seeks to crush the dissenting voices of Harry and his headmaster.

Their main weapon is Dolores Umbridge, perhaps the series’ most despicable villain, because she is so horrendously plausible. She seems to be all sweetness and light, but it masks a dangerous streak that sees her eliminate any fun from the school and, in one of the most sadistic sequences in either the novels or the films, she has Harry write lines with a magic quill that cuts each one into the skin of his left hand. The Potter series actually has its share of nuanced villains, but Umbridge is thoroughly unlikeable. Though she’s defeated and carted off at the end of Phoenix, she resurfaces in Deathly Hallows. I don’t recall if her final fate is expounded upon, on page or screen, but I’d quite like to see her ripped to shreds.

In one of the numerous special features on the Harry Potter Blu-rays, producer David Heyman notes that most directors finish a film of Potter’s scope and want a rest, or at least a change of pace. It’s why Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell only have one each to their name; it’s why the Bond films haven’t had two back-to-back entries from the same director since the ’80s; and so on. Not so Yates, however, who ended Phoenix hungry for more. Or hungry to establish a film career, take your pick. And so he also took on the next film, Half-Blood Prince.

It’s easy to accuse Half-Blood Prince of being all prelude to the climactic events of Deathly Hallows; it certainly feels that way first time through. There’s considerably more to it than that, even if the titular mystery is barely a subplot — especially in the film version where, once again, the sheer length of the novel necessitates massive cuts to the source text. But perhaps the most remarkable thing is how funny the film is. Between the return of Voldemort, the suspicion cast on Harry, and a devastating final battle, Phoenix is an incredibly gloomy film; as things roll towards the climax, packed with more deaths and villain victories, Deathly Hallows is too; and sandwiched in between, with one of the saga’s most gut-wrenching finales, you’d think Half-Blood Prince would be more of the same.

But not so. Yates approached his follow-up with a stated aim of introducing more comedy, believing the three leads to be talented in that area but not having had a chance to show it in his dour first film. So here we get a whole subplot given over to Ron’s attempts to join the Quidditch team, as well as much focus on the trio’s romantic entanglements — teenage love always being a good topic for humour. The film is not without its dark side, but peppered liberally throughout are those comedic subplots and scenes that are liable to see the viewer laugh perhaps more than in any other Potter film. It’s easy to miss this element — the main plot is, as always, getting darker and more serious — but once it’s been highlighted (as the makers do in the film’s special features) I think it becomes very noticeable.

Perhaps the other most notable aspect of Half-Blood Prince is the cinematography. Like most of cinema throughout the ’00s, the Harry Potter series shows a gradual shift from a very filmic look, to digital intermediates, to (in some cases) a wholly digital output. This is where it becomes most notable, I feel, with many sequences (especially those involving extensive CGI, like the Quidditch) graded and smoothed to the point where they look almost like a concept art painting rather than a real-life sequence. This is especially obvious if you watch any clip-laden series-spanning documentary, where Half-Blood Prince clips rub shoulders with any previous film and stand out like a sore thumb; but even in the movie itself, without that outside context, it’s sometimes highly noticeable.

The other thing it is is dark — not the story, but the visuals. This reaches its nadir in Deathly Hallows (both parts), which include some shots so dark it looks like some light-black shapes may, perhaps, if you squint and strain, be moving over some dark-black shapes. It’s ridiculous. I have no idea if it functioned OK in the cinema, but on a TV at home it most definitely does not. This seems to be a growing trend in films, though the Potter finale contains some of the worst examples I’ve yet seen. I don’t know the reason, but I presume it’s a tech thing — cameras that can function better in low light; grading the film in perfectly-calibrated conditions so they can really push it to extremes, not considering how most end-users will view it; and, much like fast-cut action scenes, an over-familiarity with the material that means the director/editor/grader can see what’s going on because they’ve watched it dozens (or hundreds) of times, which doesn’t work for a first-time viewer in the middle of the film. As you may be able to guess, I’m not a fan.

By the time of these final two films, it seems Yates has moved from being a TV director skilled in complex plotting, to one very much at home with big effects-driven set pieces. The Battle of Hogwarts, which consumes around 90 minutes of the final film, is an epic and often jaw-dropping affair, though still laced through with the final plot developments and the completion of various character arcs. That said, it’s far from perfect, undermined by a pair of apparently opposing sets of decisions: on the one hand, to flesh out fan-favourite moments to give them too much emphasis (Mrs Weasley’s duel with Bellatrix is over-played; Harry and Voldemort’s final confrontation is amped up to the point it loses the book’s emotion); on the other, slavish faithfulness leaving some moments without enough emphasis.

The biggest crime of the latter is the very end: the battle over, Harry, Ron and Hermione stand outside Hogwarts, survey some of the damage, have a little chat… and then it abruptly cuts to a couple of decades later for the epilogue. For me, it doesn’t feel as if there’s enough space there, enough time to breathe, to consider the impact on the series’ supporting cast — many of them favourite characters, as vitally important to the viewer as they are to the lead trio. How will the Weasleys cope with their losses? What about those others who have lost almost everyone they hold dear? Where have the Malfoys gone? There are nods to this in a montage around the Great Hall / makeshift mortuary, but it feels underplayed; like we need a scene of life-goes-on normality set a few weeks or months later, not a sudden smash-cut to a few decades on where we see how some characters’ lives have developed. I know some people complain about Lord of the Rings’ multitudinous endings but, one, they’re wrong, and two, Potter only has one and an epilogue — sure, the first completes the drive of the storyline and the second is a neat coda, but in between I feel we need more of a character-based resolution.

But hey-ho, it is what it is.

In the end, the TV director hired for a very specific filmmaking skill wound up in charge of exactly half the Harry Potter series. If there was a half to have a single voice in charge of, it’s this one, with one long narrative permeating the films in a way it doesn’t the first four. And yet, for that, each has a distinctive style and voice — well, apart from the two parts of Deathly Hallows, which are really one long film split into halves. Was it the right move, for the series? It clearly produced popular movies, but, thanks to the storyline, it’s already easy to regard the Potter series as four or five stories rather than seven, the last three books merging into one epic tale in three acts — a trilogy, if you will — rather than discrete stories, like the first four. By putting the same man behind the camera for them all, the films just emphasise this point. But maybe that doesn’t matter.

It’s hard to offer a final summary of the Harry Potter series. Some people see them as mediocre and overblown; for others, they are their life. Personally, I think they develop from sometimes-uncertain roots in the early films, to a flourishing series of epic fantasy movies. There are often niggles of one kind or another, be it acting (I forgot to discuss Emma Watson’s eyebrows!), or cartoonish designs, or too-faithful adaptation, or abbreviated adaptation, or what have you — but none of these are ever-present. More importantly, every film offers something to enjoy, and the growing maturity — of not only the cast, but also the filmmaking — means their impact only increases when viewed as an entire eight-film saga.

One for the ages? Movie and genre fans of a certain age might say, “don’t be so daft”; but I wouldn’t be so certain.

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.

100Films.co.uk

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

Category Archives: Fantasy