The Next Three Days (2010)

Posted on April 6, 2014 by badblokebob

If someone you loved was locked up for decades for a crime you were sure they didn’t commit, how far would you go to get them out? That’s the premise of this methodical thriller from writer-director Paul Haggis (of Crash, of course), based on the French film Pour Elle.

Those with even a very basic grasp of French (like me) may spot that translates literally as “For Her” (though the English releases call it Anything for Her), which is why Russell Crowe does what he does: his middle-class idyll is shattered one day when police storm into his house and violently arrest his wife (Elizabeth Banks), in front of their small child, for the murder of the boss she argued with the night before. (This, incidentally, is the least plausible part of the entire movie — there’s no need for the police to storm the house like that, and in real life they wouldn’t. Well, American police might, I suppose. But I still don’t believe it.) The evidence is stacked against her, and her explanations for it sound a little far-fetched. She’s convicted, sent down… and when all legal means of appeal are exhausted, Crowe sets about planning a prison break.

This setup is, in my opinion, a really good one — though I feel kind of biased as the basics have crossed my mind as a good basis for a plot long before this or Pour Elle existed. Thing is, it’s inherently quite a daft concept: prisons are (rightfully) incredibly secure places — no ordinary Joe is breaking anyone out of there in a couple of weeks. By rights, a film of this ilk should probably be a Taken-esque slightly-OTT action-thriller, with a protagonist who either already has a “particular set of skills” or implausibly learns them (maybe over a longer period of time) before putting in motion their crazy scheme.

Haggis’ film is a mix of that, in its final act, and an attempt at depicting a serious, plausible, realistic version of what might happen if a regular, intelligent guy set his mind to such a task. Except it’s not really plausible that he’d get very far. Nonetheless, the film takes its time going through the motions of how Crowe might learn and practice the skills required, fund the enterprise, formulate his plan… Some have described this as dull, but I think it actually works. It’s a different kind of film to a pacey prison-break actioner, but if you were crazy enough to try this in the real world, of course you’d start by looking up “how to” articles online, by finding the authors of “how I escaped” books, by trying to buy a gun on the black market and messing it up, and so on.

According to Haggis, the French film is actually quite American-styled, a fast-paced thriller, which he chose to expand out. I’ve not seen the original so can’t say how he’s done that, but the implication is that the detail of the planning, and of the characters’ regular lives, has received more attention. A subplot with Olivia Wilde is a pointless aside that only explains itself once it throws a spanner in the works during the climax, but the scenes with Crowe’s parents pay off thanks to an excellent near-wordless supporting turn from Brian Dennehy. Best thing in the film, easily.

Running him a close second is the all-action final half hour or so, when Crowe (spoilers! but not really!) finally stages the actual escape. It’s a long time coming, but we’re paid off with a pretty fantastic long-form action sequence. There’s genuine tension about whether they’ll pull it off or not, and along the way we’re treated to a few nice flourishes in his plan. There’s a fair degree of silliness still, though, so at least that’s in-keeping with the rest of the movie.

Thing is, for all my love for the idea, it’s ultimately quite a silly concept. As much as we might dream of rescuing our innocent loved one from a life of torment behind bars, if it came to pass in reality, the vast majority of people would immediately realise it was an impossible dream. By trying to treat it plausibly, The Next Three Days is on a hiding to nothing — for all the realism of how Crowe begins his research and planning, there’s the downside that this slow-paced plausibility turns some viewers off; and when we do get the eventual escape, it’s an “in movie’s only” adrenaline-provoker that said viewers wanted all along. The film pretty much can’t win.

Finally, there’s an attempt to keep uncertain the truth about Banks’ culpability. Haggis never wanted that question to be answered — Crowe believes she’s innocent, even when she confesses to his face, and that’s what matters. I don’t think Haggis is a filmmaker who can resist answers, however, and for all his assertions that her innocence/guilt is left ambiguous, by the end I think you can be pretty darned certain which it is… which kinda makes all the previous attempts to leave it open feel hollow, especially the ones that side with the untrue.

The Next Three Days ends up as a solid thriller, with a methodical pace that will kill some viewers’ interest, but which conversely provides a depiction of detail that will hold the attention of anyone who’s ever pondered what they’d do in such a situation. The finale is largely worth the wait, at least, even if everyone will wish Haggis had skipped over a few longueurs while getting there.

The Next Three Days is on Channel 5 tonight at 10pm.

Wolf (1994)

Posted on December 15, 2013 by badblokebob

Without meaning to spoil anything, Wolf is rated R for “language and werewolf attacks”! I love the ludicrous specificity the MPAA indulge in sometimes. I know the BBFC’s famous “mild peril” is pretty useless, but at least they draw from an academic- and objective-sounding pool of phrases in their summaries, rather than throwing in ‘advice’ that is meaningless (there are perfectly PG werewolf attacks in other movies).

Anyway, Wolf. It’s about werewolves. But don’t go thinking this is like An American Werewolf in London or The Wolfman, and certainly don’t attach it to the modern Twilight-type werewolf saga — this is a supernatural movie For Adults. Not in the sense of there being excessive violence or sex or swearing or what have you, which you might think when I’ve used adults with a capital A and highlighted the R rating — though there is a dash of all those things — but, rather, because of the characters and their situations. For instance, the titular (were)wolf is not a muscle-ripped teenage boy, but a middle-aged literary agent played by Jack Nicholson. No one wants to see him running around in the woods topless, do they? (I understand that’s the primary appeal of the werewolves in Twilight. I’ve still not seen it.)

And it’s not just about horror movie stuff, either. When he gets bitten, Nicholson’s character thinks it was just by a regular wolf. He has it treated by a doctor, that kind of thing. But then he begins to exhibit more self assurance in the workplace. Rather than meekly accepting his new posting to the back of beyond, with his protege and supposed friend stealing his current job, or that his wife is having an affair, he fights both these things. Only later does he start getting all hairy and kill-y and visiting-mysterious-shaman-y.

It’s those early sections where the film is at its best, when it tries to stay grounded in some form of realism. Any time it gets too Fantasy, it begins to get a tad silly. The climax in particular seems to come from a different film: Wolf abruptly moves from being an office politics drama with a fantasy edge, to a full-on manwolf-vs-manwolf brawl. As a straight dramatic director, Mike Nichols doesn’t seem to quite have the chops to pull off this fantasy/horror stuff without it beginning to look daft. That might not be entirely his fault, however, as reportedly the film was delayed by months to re-shoot the entire third act. Perhaps originally it had something more in-keeping? That said, he did want Michelle Pfeiffer to wear a red-hood sweatshirt during the finale! She refused, fearing it would harm the film’s credibility. She was right — it’s quite silly enough as it is.

Things do come to a head with nicely ambiguous ending, however. (Half-spoilers follow.) Rather than some pat “hero gets away with it in the end” conclusion, or even a “hero sacrifices self” moment, the primary ending is uncommon, followed by a coda that’s open to interpretation. Empire’s review reads it as a cliché, but I think that does it a disservice. It’s not enough to redeem the film, but I liked it.

One other aside I must mention is the budget: apparently it cost $70 million! How?! It would be a marvel for it to reach that figure today, never mind 20 years ago. I can only presume there were hefty paydays for Nicholson and Pfeiffer, both megastars at the time, and possibly Christopher Plummer’s supporting role, maybe Nichols, and on scoring duties (obviously), Ennio Morricone. And maybe those re-shoots were really extensive. Or perhaps they spent it all on the nighttime aerial photography of Manhattan, which is gorgeous — that would’ve been worth it.

All told, Wolf is an unbalanced film. The first hour-ish feels quite fresh, mashing together two different genres to use one as an unusual prism with which to commentate on a particular world. When it morphs into more standard werewolf territory, however, it throws away what was a unique facet in lieu of some half-rate horror-action theatrics. Shame.

This review is part of the 100 Films Advent Calendar 2013. Read more here.

On Dangerous Ground (1952)

Posted on October 25, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #49
Nicholas Ray | 79 mins | TV | 4:3 | USA / English

Helmed by acclaimed director Nicholas Ray (Rebel Without a Cause, In a Lonely Place, Johnny Guitar), On Dangerous Ground is a film noir in which an over-zealous city cop (Robert Ryan) is punished by being sent upstate to investigate a murdered girl. There he encounters a blind woman (Ida Lupino) and, perhaps, finds redemption…

Despite the praise emanating from some quarters (“the material achieves a nearly transcendental beauty in the hands of Ray”, “a touching psychological drama about despair and loneliness”, and so on), I’m afraid this one provoked a lukewarm reaction from me. I didn’t feel the redemptive character arc was particularly clear, though perhaps this was in part the fault of Ray having to change the ending by studio mandate, and maybe having to pull punches in certain areas due to it being the ’50s.

I also didn’t ‘feel’ the juxtaposition of shadowy city in the film’s early sections with bright snowy country later on. Nonetheless, there is a clear contrast on screen, particularly as the city is all shot at night and is very black, while most of the country scenes occur in daylight, emphasising the near-ceaseless white of the snow. Expectation is a factor here: plot summaries all emphasise the “sent upstate” part, whereas a good chunk at the start is spent in the city, which threw me.

On the plus side, Bernard Herrmann’s score is unequivocally excellent, particularly the pulsating opening theme and the insistent action climax.

On Dangerous Ground is quite possibly a better film than I’m giving it credit for, but I just didn’t connect with it in the way I hoped. Definitely one to watch again.

My Week with Marilyn (2011)

Posted on October 24, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #32
Simon Curtis | 95 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | UK & USA / English | 15 / R

1956: global superstar Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams) comes to England to star opposite Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh) in his latest directorial effort, The Prince and the Showgirl. Midway though production, the troubled actress goes AWOL with young production assistant Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne) in this true story based on the latter’s memoirs.

In many respects, this is an actors’ film, not least because everyone’s playing a real person. Michelle Williams thoroughly earns her multiple award noms (and Golden Globes win) by expertly capturing the different facets and nuances of Marilyn’s complicated character. In a case of life imitating art, the end credits suggest she couldn’t have done it without a small army of voice, acting, and movement coaches.

Kenneth Branagh does what the crueller critic might say he’s been doing his whole career: emulates Larry Olivier to a tee. Perhaps unexpectedly, it’s a showier performance than Williams’, what with a clipped period accent, random Shakespeare quoting, and mood swings between charm personified and frustrated anger.

Eddie Redmayne makes for a likeable enough lead, even when you know his character is making some plainly foolish decisions. Even he can’t sell some clunky opening and closing expositionary voiceovers, though. Meanwhile, Judi Dench is the personification of loveliness as Dame Sybil Thorndike. After harder-edged roles like M and Barbara Covett, it’s nice to have Dame Judi being nice again, a trait one feels comes naturally to her.

The supporting cast is a veritable who’s who of recognisable British faces, stars of screens both big and small. Barely a speaking part goes by without an actor you’re certain to recognise. I’d list them but, honestly, there are far, far too many. Despite Marilyn coming with a hefty entourage, Williams is the only American in the cast, meaning American accents are lumbered (to varying degrees of success) upon Zoe Wanamaker, Toby Jones, Dougray Scott, and Dominic Cooper. Hey, of course Dominic Cooper’s in it — is it even legal to make a mid-budget British movie without him now?

Somehow, these performances (plus the writing (by Adrian Hodges of TV series like The Ruby in the Smoke, Survivors, and Primeval) and directing, of course) gel to make a film that is both very funny and dramatically affecting. It was, I must admit, significantly better than I was expecting.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2012)

Posted on October 9, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #19
John Madden | 118 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | UK, USA & UAE / English | 12 / PG-13

“Old fogies go to India” is the setup of this frothy comedy-drama that clearly courts the so-called ‘grey pound’ — i.e. older viewers still prepared to pay to go to the cinema. But when said fogies are played by Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, Tom Wilkinson, Bill Nighy, Ronald Pickup, Celia Imrie and Penelope Wilton, it will surprise no one to learn there’s something here for us all.

Mixing gentle humour with very modern themes and the odd tragedy, it’s an affecting brew. And such a box office success that there’s plans for a sequel! Never was a more unlikely franchise born.

Once again, we have a film where no one can agree on a year. Once again, IMDb go older (2011) while Wikipedia and Rotten Tomatoes go newer (2012). Once again, Google decides: “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2011” gives 1.12m results vs. “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2012” at 1.38m.

In the interests of completing my ever-growing backlog, I decided to post ‘drabble reviews’ of some films — such as this one. For those unfamiliar with the concept, a drabble is a complete piece of writing exactly 100 words long.

Les Misérables (2012)

Posted on September 30, 2013 by badblokebob

27 years after its West End debut, the long-running smash-hit musical finally makes the leap to the big screen. Such a beloved work paired with a recently Oscar-winning director and an all-star cast was pretty much a dead cert for big-name awards nominations, and so it was to be; but critical reaction was more mixed: I’ve seen people who love the film unreservedly, and others who despise it with a passion.

Let’s begin with the obvious: Les Mis* is a two-hour-forty-minute musical — some people are never going to be on board with that. “Why are they siiingiiiiing?!”, etc. Such complaints must be ignored. After that, more valid complaints do arise: the quality of said singing; the necessity of such length; whether said Oscar winning director is overrated and should he have won the Oscar in the first place; and so forth.

Les Mis is an epic tale: it spans decades, albeit in three distinct chunks. It begins when Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), freed from years of hard labour as punishment for stealing a loaf of bread, breaks his parole and disappears. Years later, we find him a wealthy man, manager of his own company and the mayor or something to boot. But his former prison guard, Javert (Russell Crowe), finds him too — oh no! Indebted to a young woman he wronged (Anne Hathaway), Valjean takes her child for a better life in Paris, where, more years later, they end up embroiled in one of the capital’s failed revolutions.

Despite its running time, Les Mis is quite brisk for much of that plot (which, sorry if you’ve never seen it, I have described a fair old chunk of). There’s no interval in the film, but on stage it doesn’t come until well into the Paris section of the tale. Such a break must help the pacing, because while I remember enjoying it all on stage (where, I might add, it’s even longer), on screen I felt the middle portion began to drag. So yes, an epic running time for an epic, but it actually moves quickly through the parts that make it an epic before slowing for a bit of a forced romance and that kind of palaver.

I noted that it’s longer on stage, which is because here some songs have been trimmed. That’s partly for time, partly for re-staging (is it “hot as hell” in a spray-drenched dock pulling in wrecked galleons? No, apparently not), and partly to squeeze in a new song so it could get an Oscar nod. That’s Suddenly, which did get its awards nom but of course lost to Skyfall. It doesn’t fit too badly into the film, as it turns out, but in and of itself is a bit insipid. How much other trims bother you will depend on whether you’re a fan or not, of course. Some of the very best numbers are left to play in full, while tonally-awkward reprises (a comedy song after the climactic massacre) are cut back to literally a couple of lines.

Much talk around Les Mis focused on the performances, with three in particular attracting discussion. As honourable wronged-man Valjean, Jackman is the star of the show, and brings his musical theatre background to bear on a clearly-sung but emotive performance. He was unlucky to be in the same awards year as Daniel Day-Lewis’ all-conquering turn in Lincoln, because otherwise those gongs might well have been his. Opposite him in the film’s central rivalry is driven letter-of-the-law lawman Javert, divisively sung by Crowe. I think the best criticism I read was that his vocal style seems at odds with the rest of the cast — whereas they’re musical theatre, he’s got a gruffer, perhaps rockier, tone. I didn’t think he was all that bad, a few moments aside, which I suppose is the advantage of hearing so much negativity in advance.

And then there’s Anne Hathaway, as much of a sure thing during awards season as Day-Lewis. To be honest, I think Jackman comes out of the film better. I can never quite escape Hathaway’s earnestness; a sense of, “look, I’m singing! And isn’t this role important and meaningful!” Her delivery of I Dreamed a Dream, so over-used in the film’s trailers, is pretty flawless, realised (if I remember rightly, which I might not) in a single shot, a soul-crushing close-up on her face. Otherwise, while she’s good really, I felt she’d stolen some of the attention that should be on Jackman.

The rest of the cast is an assortment from the can-sing (Eddie Redmayne, Amanda Seyfried) to the comedic-so-it-doesn’t-matter (Sacha Baron Cohen, Helena Bonham Carter). The best voice of the lot belongs to Samantha Barks as Eponine. No surprise, really, as she was poached from the West End… where she’d found herself via one of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s BBC talent shows, so I imagine he feels thoroughly vindicated now (as if he didn’t before).

Famously, they’re all singing live. As a viewer, this is more appreciable as a technical accomplishment than something that makes any difference to what we see on screen. It brings some extra emotion (read: odd breathing points and half-achieved notes) at times, and a knowledge of authenticity always has a way of adding authenticity, but otherwise…

There was much surprise when Tom Hooper wasn’t rewarded with a Best Director nomination at the Oscars — much of it originating from within the Les Mis camp, I felt, whereas no one else was particularly fussed. Hooper has improved a bit as a director (finally, close-ups are framed properly!) but, to be honest, I don’t particularly rate him on the whole. For every good decision (going for a grimy real-world style rather than something typically musical-y) there’s an awkward one (the decision to represent Paris almost entirely with one slightly-stagey set). For every well-staged song (realising Lovely Ladies as a montage to show Fantine’s fall over time) there’s one that’s lacking (we don’t see any empty chairs at empty tables until the song’s half over). Hooper does an above-average job on the whole, but the lack of awards nods shouldn’t be so surprising.

After so long on the stage, a film adaptation can feel redundant or insufferably inferior. Despite the negative reaction from some quarters, I think it’s fair to say the team behind Les Mis have managed to render something that is neither of those, even if I had a nagging feeling it could’ve been even better still.

* Why Americans insist on using a ‘zee’ there I don’t know — do they think it says “miss”? How do they say the word “miss”? “Misssss”? Anyway: ^

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.

City Lights (1931)

Posted on August 25, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #10
Charles Chaplin | 83 mins | DVD | 1.33:1* | USA / silent (English) | U / G

The first film I watched as part of my new-this-year What Do You Mean You Haven’t Seen…? initiative is also the oldest, a silent movie (with a synchronised music & effects soundtrack) starring, written and directed by Charlie Chaplin.

Billed at the start of the titles as “A Comedy Romance in Pantomime”, the film concerns the tramp (Chaplin, obv.) falling in love with a blind girl (Virginia Cherrill) who stands to be evicted from her home, and also befriending a rich gentlemen (Harry Myers) prone to drink and forgetting the tramp when he’s sober. These relatively slight storylines are really used to string together a series of skits, which I suppose is Chaplin’s forte. These are intermittently very funny, even if some stuff has now dated, probably through copying and repetition by others. However, towards the end there’s a boxing sequence which is flat-out excellent; so good that the old UK DVD used it on the cover, even though it’s a complete aside in the context of the film. Elsewhere, Chaplin puts the synchronised soundtrack to good use, using sound effects for added humour.

Though the film is mostly comedic and the romantic plot is a little thin, Chaplin also manages to construct moments that are affectingly emotional. The most notable is the ending, which remains a striking example of subtle acting yielding huge rewards. It is, you are oft told if you read up on the film, a famous screen moment, though I guess fadingly so because (I must confess) it only rang a vague bell even after I’d seen it. Much of the film’s emotional impact comes courtesy of Cherrill, who gives a suitably pretty and sweet performance. Chaplin wasn’t impressed with her as an actress and attempted re-casting (the film has a remarkably fraught production history), but I think it’s beneficial that never worked out. It’s always possible another actress could have been just as good, of course, but I can’t imagine any playing this role better.

Over 80 years since it was released, I think City Lights’ high place on some Great Movies lists is probably due more to it being Significant than plain enjoyable when viewed today — the kind of film that was great at the time and certainly has a place in history, but has perhaps been surpassed in some respects. Or maybe that’s just me being a young whippersnapper. Either way, greatness is never entirely superseded, and Chaplin’s most acclaimed film still has joys to impart.

* The original aspect ratio is 1.20:1, but the old UK DVD (at least) is definitely fullscreen. ^

It Happened One Night (1934)

Posted on August 19, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #2
Frank Capra | 100 mins | TV | 4:3 | USA / English | U

It Happened One Night was the first film to win the Oscar “grand slam” (Best Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, Screenplay), and is still one of the few to have won everything it was nominated for (alongside The Last Emperor and Return of the King), yet everyone involved seemed to think it would be a disaster: several people turned it down (five actresses); Claudette Colbert only agreed because she got double her salary and would be done in four weeks (and didn’t bother to attend the Oscars — when she won, she was rushed to the ceremony to make her speech); on the first day Clark Gable declared “Let’s get this over with”; and so on. So is it a multi-Oscar-worthy triumph, or the mistake so many cast and crew thought it to be?

Firstly, it’s the archetypal rom-com: two mismatched people are forced together, initially hate each other, fall in love. I don’t know if it was such a well-known set of events back then, but today it’s a formula we’ve seen repeated a thousand times in cinema. Despite that, its execution here feels fresh. Partly it’s the way the narrative cunningly draws the stars closer and closer together: losing suitcases, switching modes of transport, running out of cash… Partly, it’s the ineffable charm of a well-written, well-performed story. Gable and Colbert light up the screen like true stars. Their chemistry is immense, and though both characters could be intensely dislikable, instead they’re captivating.

It’s often credited as the first screwball comedy, and there is an element of that, though it’s no His Girl Friday in this regard. Still, numerous sequences work really well comically, like the motel argument (a particular stand-out). The Walls of Jericho running motif is also nicely executed, leading to perhaps the sauciest final scene not to feature a single shot of human beings that I can think of.

Fortunately, It Happened One Night‘s successes are nearer the truth than the opinions of those who made it. Even 80 years on, this stands up firmly as a gloriously entertaining film.

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

Posted on June 28, 2013 by badblokebob

Andrew Garfield dons the webbed onesie for an unwarranted reboot of the only-one-decade-old Spider-Man film franchise, retelling his origins… but with a twist! Cos, y’know, the last version was only out about 10 minutes ago.

Director Marc Webb’s only previous feature credit is hipster rom-com (500) Days of Summer. Presumably he was chosen, not for his surname, but because half of Amazing is a hipster rom-com. Peter Parker is no longer a socially inept geek, but a mumbling hipster who easily attracts the attention of his longed-for girl (and maybe one or two others) because he’s hipster-cool.

This is just the first of many mistakes. There’s the ditching of the famous “with great power” motto, just Because; and he does grow webbing naturally, as per the controversial decision in the Sam Raimi-helmed trilogy, but now he develops artificial wrist-based web-shooters too, because That’s In The Comic Goddammit; and then there’s some kind of conspiracy backstory with his parents because That’d Be Different.

Essentially, everything is geared towards making sure this isn’t just a rehash of the previous series-starting film, because, as we established, that only happened just a minute ago. In the process, various bits get bungled, rejigged and rearranged to try and convince viewers that you haven’t seen all of this origin story before, when really you have… and done better, too.

The film isn’t without merit. Some of the done-for-real web-swinging is nice; Garfield is good when not affectedly stuttering; love interest Emma Stone is pretty until she opens her mouth; some of the action sequences are alright. Mercifully, the much-trailed first-person segments are cut down to a minimum; kind of a “we made this so we ought to use it, but we’ve realised everyone was going to hate it”.

But supporting characters get short shrift. Denis Leary doesn’t turn up until halfway through and gets a half-arsed arc that jumps from one end to the other. Rhys Ifans gets off to a good start as sympathetic villain-to-be Dr. Curt Connors, but then his story too is jumped forward when someone clearly realised the running time was running away from them.

Spider-Man’s mask seems to come off every 10 seconds. Attempts at “aren’t New Yorkers all wonderful” patriotism come off as cheesy and literally laughable (the aligned cranes!), whereas in Raimi’s films they kinda felt good even though you knew you should find them horrid. Gone is the humour or colourfulness of those previous films. I know the latter wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but it nailed the intended tone of Spidey much better than this Nolan-inspired grim real-world style.

Someone mentioned Twilight in the run up to release. Disappointingly, they seem to have taken this to heart, focusing on the romance at least as much as the superhero antics. I don’t know how they divide up in terms of screen time, but it feels like the romance received more time and effort from the makers. Not that it pays off — instead it just feels like the action scenes were bunged together because, hey, some of the fans want that stuff, right?

Plus, remember how everyone disliked Spider-Man 3 so it did less box office than either of its predecessors? This did even less again. While I’d like to say they’ve listened to fans for the sequel, I think it’s superficial: the suit’s had a major redesign to make it look even more like the comics than either previous version (bigger whiter eyes!), but it will feature at least two, probably three, and possibly four major villains. Such multiplicity was 3’s undoing, and as Webb & co couldn’t find the room to do even one villain properly in this film, I dread to think how they’ll handle several.

The Amazing Spider-Man isn’t a disaster — I’ve given it three stars for a reason — but Raimi got it right in his first two films, and by being different for the sake of it they’ve thrown away a lot of what worked and emphasised many of the things that didn’t. I’m sure there are plenty of single adjectives people would use to describe this iteration of Spider-Man, but “amazing” isn’t one of them.

100Films.co.uk

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

Category Archives: Romance