Solaris (1972)

Posted on December 9, 2010 by badblokebob

aka Solyaris

2010 #113
Andrei Tarkovsky | 159 mins | TV | PG / PG

I don’t know if you’re aware of a website, dear reader, called iCheckMovies.com? It’s one of those (many, I believe) sites where you can tick off which movies you’ve seen — in this case, not just any movie (though that’s changing ‘soon’), but movies from certain well-known lists. Well, it used to be just well-known(-ish) lists, but it’s constantly broadening its horizons and… Anyway. My point is this: some movies only crop up on one list (lots of the Shorts, for instance), while others manage two or three or four, but (as you’d no doubt expect) some crop up on loads. It’s a handy way to see that, too.

Solaris, for instance, is on IMDb’s list of the best sci-fi films (#39) and films from the ’70s (#43); it’s on They Shoot Pictures…’s 1,000 Greatest Films (#227), Empire’s 500 Greatest Movies (#285), 10th on Total Sci-Fi’s 100 Greatest Sci-Fi Movies, 53rd on Arts and Faith’s 100 Spiritually Significant Films, and included in Roger Ebert’s Great Movies; not to mention half a dozen other general greatest/must-see lists featured on iCheckMovies.

What does all that matter? Not a great deal, I suppose — film appreciation is subjective ‘n’ all — but it does leave it with a weight of expectation. The fact that it’s the better part of three hours long, in Russian, and notoriously slow-paced, adds a different kind of weight. It’s quite easy to see how Soderbergh felt able to remake it into just 90 minutes (and he still made a slow-paced film).

And it’s true, parts are like an endurance test — Berton’s seemingly endless drive through a future cityscape (actually just ’70s Tokyo), for instance — but, though still glacially paced, most of the film has some discernibly relevant content. Provided you’re not expecting Star Wars, that is, but who in their right mind would be? Talking of things being discernibly relevant, the film occasionally switches into black & white for no reason I can readily discern. Explanations welcome in the comments.

Though ostensibly science fiction — it’s set on a space station orbiting a possibly sentient planet that’s doing Funny Things to the crew — Solaris isn’t concerned with the scientific implications of any of its concepts. While I’m going to come up short on providing detailed analysis, it seems to me Tarkovsky’s adaptation is more concerned with memory, loss, grief and what it means to be human/alive. The planet, which somehow creates tangible people — not mere shared hallucinations — from the memories of the crew, is used as a way in to these things Tarkovsky clearly wishes to consider. The sentient(?) planet is not an end in itself; the film spends no time considering what this different kind of consciousness (if it is a consciousness) means, how it might work, or any other scientifically-bent notions that other films or filmmakers might choose to focus on. It also doesn’t centre on the romantic side of events, the route Soderbergh chose to pursue; or, if it does, it does so coldly and clinically and doesn’t feel romantic in the slightest. Alternatively, that could be the point.

Solaris is one of those films I think we can safely say is Not For Everyone. There’s much to ponder for the so inclined, not least the intriguing ending. I feel certain I, much like the scientists in the film itself, have barely scratched the surface.

Read my considerably more thoughtful (if I do say so myself) review of Steven Soderbergh’s remake here.

Total Recall (1990)

Posted on December 3, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #77
Paul Verhoeven | 108 mins | TV (HD) | 18 / R

Post Inception, it feels like we should be seeing a revival of interest in all things Total Recall, concerned as it is with dreams, fake memories, and what’s real and what isn’t. On the other hand, aside from an ambiguity about whether the lead character is dreaming or not — which adds texture but, arguably, is unimportant to the film’s primary thrills — there’s not that much to read into it.

For me, the joy of Total Recall is in discovering another ’80s blockbuster (ignore the fact it was released in 1990), the kind of thing I grew up watching on rented videos and BBC One Bank Holiday schedules; films like the Indiana Joneses, Back to the Future, Ghostbusters, Burton’s Batman, and all the rest (I feel I’ve used these examples before; I must have some others), whose practical effects and general style and tone — not a conscious effort by these filmmakers, I’m sure, but instead just How Hollywood Films Were Then — vividly recalls that era for me; films that at the time were, to my young eyes and understanding, enduring classics of cinema that had always existed… despite the fact most were just a few years old.

I suspect it’s for this reason that my top note on Total Recall is “fantastic effects”. But, still, they are; from the wide shots of a Martian landscape and its complex of buildings, to the mutants, disguises, and blood ‘n’ gore. That it all becomes slightly cartoony — albeit the nastiest, gruesomest cartoon (apart from, y’know, some of That Japanese Stuff) — just adds to the charm. Similarly, a lot of the ‘science’ is utterly implausible or impossible — which, depending on your point of view, either supports the “it was all a dream” reading or is just a case of artistic licence, hardly uncommon in SF cinema.

Also very much ‘of the era’ is the star, Arnold Schwarzenegger (as if you needed telling). He really isn’t cut out for any role more demanding than the Terminator, though his laboured delivery and awkward presence injects a certain amateurish, humorous charm to any scene he’s in — ergo, much of the film. Conversely, Michael Ironside makes an excellent villain. Though his death is suitably dramatic, it’s a shame he’s not The Big Bad Guy — the film follows the blockbuster rule of dispatching villains in order of importance well enough, but Ronny Cox doesn’t come close to the commanding presence required to create a memorable villain in such little screen time. It leaves the viewer longing for Ironside to be featured during the final climax instead of Cox’s limp boss.

I suppose Total Recall endures in that way successful films do, because they provide a point of shared cultural awareness. I feel its influence has diminished with time — this is entirely subjective, but it doesn’t seem to come up as much as it used to — and presumably will continue to do so, as its not-unjustified absence from Best Of lists means fewer new viewers come to it and so its cultural cachet diminishes. Perhaps it’s ultimately destined for an afterlife as a film representative of its era; the kind of thing that comes up as a footnote or personal favourite in texts & documentaries specifically discussing things like The Sci-fi Cinema of the ’90s. Or perhaps I’m doing it a disservice. We shouldn’t really try to predict these things too much, it’ll only lead to embarrassment when the opposite happens.

So, Total Recall. Good fun. Quite funny. Bit gory. I liked the effects.

Total Recall is on Syfy (UK) tonight, Monday 10th November 2014, at 9pm.

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996)

Posted on November 25, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #97
Jim Mallon | 74 mins | DVD | PG / PG-13

I’m not that well versed in the cult fandom of Mystery Science Theater 3000 but, as I understand it, Turkey Day (i.e. Thanksgiving) is the MSTie (as fans call themselves) High Holy Day (I’m presuming not literally, but who knows?) Something to do with Thanksgiving marathons on whichever network MST3K was on at the time, I think.

Anyway, with that in mind, what better day to finally post my review of MST3K’s big screen endeavour than on that beloved American holiday.

The world, so they say (and by “they” I mean “absolutely no one” — I’m making this up), is divided into three sorts of people: those who love MST3K, those who’ve never heard of MST3K, and those who have a vague notion of what it is but have, for whatever reason, never seen any of it. (Of course, there will be that fourth group who don’t like it, but my saying’s already stretched at three. This is why I said “they say”, y’see, to absolve me of responsibility for the glaring oversight. But anyway…) I fall into the latter category. Having bought sci-fi mags for the past decade or so (thereby overlapping with the time MST3K was actually in production) I naturally have an idea what it is, but had never actually seen any of it… (you know what’s coming…) (wait for it…) …until now.

For those who’ve never heard of MST3K, it’s a bit like a DVD commentary… except instead of people involved with the film recounting anecdotes or academics offering analysis, we have people taking the piss out of it. I say “people” — one person and two robots. Who are obviously voiced by people. Look, that’s not the point. The movies they watch are all cheaply-made rubbish ones, well deserving of having the mickey taken (not to mention the all important fact that such efforts are generally copyright-free). The bloke and two robots appear on screen at the bottom as silhouettes, because… well, there’s no real need for it, other than to remind you they’re there and remove the issue of disembodied voices. The series started before DVD, remember, so the notion of an “audio commentary” wasn’t yet widely known. Besides which, I quite like seeing them there. OK, they don’t do much besides wiggle their heads or arms occasionally, but it feels more congenial than the disembodied chatter of an audio commentary.

Anyway, the gang set their sights on one film per episode — or, in this feature film, one film per film. They’re being forced to watch these movies, for various unimportant reasons, and every once in a while we get comedic ‘host segments’, where they get up to hijinks on their space station (I forgot to mention, they live on a space station). These bits are well-meaning and quite funny — and in this big screen outing have been shot with a suitably filmic gloss that the video-shot TV episodes lack, which adds a surprising magnitude to the still-small-and-cheap sets and props — but the real meat of the humour is in the riffing over the film.

In this film, the film is This Island Earth, Joseph M. Newman’s 1955 sci-fi… film (“2½ years in the making!”). “Classic” wouldn’t be the word, though MST3K: The Movie provoked some controversy among some film critics because they considered This Island Earth to be an SF classic, one that didn’t merit the derogation that MST3K usually lavishes on B- (or lower letters) movies. On the evidence of what we see here (not, it should be noted, the full film, which runs a quarter-hour longer than MST3K: The Movie; including those host segments, quite a lot must be lost), This Island Earth is perhaps of higher quality than some of the films tackled by MST3K, but is clearly a cheap effort and no classic.

Talking of things being shortened (I was, in the brackets), MST3K: The Movie is, unusually, a good fifteen minutes shorter than a regular episode of the series. There are reasons — partly to do with helping mainstream appeal, more necessary on the big screen than a minor cable network, and not wanting to outstay their welcome. Similarly, the jokes feature fewer obscure references than on TV and they’re more spaced out, to make sure people catch them (when laughing as part of a large audience, you see). This latter fact means that when the film is watched by yourself the gags can be more spread out than might be desirable, which is a shame. This improves as it goes on though — clearly most of what got lopped out of This Island Earth was cut from later on, and as the film they’re watching becomes harder to follow so we’re compensated with more laughs.

The quality of the humour varies, as is the case with so many comedies. For me, there were enough laugh-out-loud moments and significant chuckles to make it a good experience; equally, there were also a couple of fart-related gags, something I’ve never found funny personally. There are some current affairs-related references that not so much date the film as lose their currency as time wears on (this is 14 years old now after all), as well as culturally specific jokes that don’t carry across the pond. Such occurrences are an inevitably of this kind of humour, I think, and they’re not too prevalent to destroy the experience. That experience is very much like watching a movie with some mates when you’re in the mindset to take the piss out of the film. That is, if you get on with the characters (as it were) and sync with their sense of humour; if you dislike them or their humour, or like whatever they’re watching too much, then it’s probably more like some irritating yobs nattering away over something you’d quite like to watch thank you very much. (Equally, if you embark on this intending to watch This Island Earth, more fool you.)

MST3K: The Movie was disliked by the production team — too much studio interference during production left it an unpleasant experience. Tales of this pepper the web, if you want to go looking, but they include the studio forcing a story arc on the film, before conducting test screenings (to completely the wrong audience) which concluded they should cut out the resolution to said enforced story arc. Or the stupid release pattern, which failed so badly it’s never been repeated. MSTies have a more mixed response, as far as I can tell, but a significant number like it, particularly those for who it was their first experience of MST3K.

And that’s me, as you may remember. I can see that not everyone will like MST3K — the concept won’t appeal, or the style of humour won’t tickle some funnybones. But if the concept does appeal, the only way to tell is to try. Personally, I can’t wait to get stuck into more of the series. I believe there’s almost 200 episodes…

Grindhouse (2007)

Posted on October 18, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #105
Robert Rodriguez & Quentin Tarantino | 191 mins | Blu-ray | 18 / R

Infamously, on its release in America the much-hyped Rodriguez/Tarantino double bill was an almighty flop, so much so that it wasn’t properly released in its full form outside the US. Which is a bit ironic, if you think about it, because the US is the market least likely to respond to something a little bit experimental.

A grindhouse, for those still unacquainted with the concept, was a second-run cinema in the pre-home video days that generally showed trashy films from poor-quality much-screened prints. It should come as little surprise that this is the kind of film and viewing experience Tarantino enjoys, and so he and best chum Rodriguez set about recreating the style for a wider audience. Which was probably why it flopped — it was, almost by definition, not a mass audience-aimed style of cinema.

What this means for Grindhouse is a double-bill of exploitation movies, more-or-less with a horror bent, with grainy, dirty, decrepit prints that are missing shots, scenes, and even whole reels, and complete with trailers for similar films and ads for local restaurants. Clearly, it sets itself up to be as much about the experience of viewing the work of RR and QT in this context as it is the films themselves. So, to take the viewing programme in order…

It opens with one of the several fake trailers — except in this case the trailer is no longer fake, as Rodriguez has since gone on to turn Machete into a genuine feature (out next month over here). It sets the tone well: cheesy dialogue, stagey acting, an emphasis on gory violence over any other element, and plenty of utterly ludicrous moments. Plus breasts, naturally. Chances are, if you don’t find this opening salvo entertaining in some way the rest of the film is going to prove a struggle.

And then the film launches into its first feature: Robert Rodriguez’s zombie horror Planet Terror. In short, this is a completely entertaining pitch-perfect 90-minute proof-of-concept. Rodriguez packs every scene with at least one element you should expect from this style of cinema: graphic blood-spurting violence, horrific mutations, vicious zombies, over-the-top logic-light gunfights, entirely random explosions, clichéd dialogue, stock characters, extended shots of the female form… Have I missed anything? If I have, it’s probably there too.

Rodriguez’s skill lies in making this both homage and hilarious. You don’t need to have much experience of this kind of cheap horror/exploitation movie to see how well he’s hit on the stereotypical plot, characters and sequences. His direction hits the nail on the head too, discarding his usual style for angles and cuts that feel thoroughly genuine. But he also recreates it in a way that’s amusing; not so much in a “look how stupid they are” way, but by levying elements in a way that is consistently entertaining. In particular, he uses the self-imposed print damage to excellent effect — the sex scene literally burns out from over-play, for instance, while the “Missing Reel” card elicits a laugh by jumping the plot forward so ridiculously, as well as skipping a whole chunk of exposition.

It probably works better in context than described on the page, but Rodriguez has marshalled every disparate element to create a cohesive whole that’s exciting and funny. At this point, Grindhouse is firmly headed for a full five-star conceptual success.

Following “The End” card, there’s a handful of trailers before the second part of the double-bill. From directors Rob Zombie (The Devil’s Rejects, Halloween remake), Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz) and Eli Roth (Cabin Fever, Hostel), they showcase different archetypes within the overall grindhouse style. Zombie’s Werewolf Women of the S.S. is all Nazis, cheap werewolf costumes and (naturally) boobs — very video nasty. Wright’s Don’t takes on British ’70s horror with a nightmare-filled country mansion and a deliberately repetitive trailer (“don’t go in there”, “don’t see it alone”, etc). Also, for a British viewer, its sub-two-minute running time is packed to bursting with recognisable faces, some you’d expect (Mark Gatiss, Nick Frost) and others you wouldn’t (Katie Melua!) Finally, Roth’s Thanksgiving is a teeny slasher in the Halloween mode, though Roth can’t resist adding his own especially twisted brand of humour (I shan’t describe the final shot here).

While the trailers won’t necessarily convince you to see the films featured (good thing they don’t exist then), they perfectly capture the feel of various horror styles from the intended era, and — with the various “coming attractions” slides — sell the grindhouse experience.

And then we have the second film, Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof. And here the concept falls apart.

It seems Tarantino can’t let go of his own style. With a handful of exceptions, Death Proof feels less like a well-considered grindhouse homage (which Planet Terror certainly was) and more like a typical Quentin Tarantino Film launched from a grindhouse-ish concept. He can’t even sustain the literal veneer of grindhouseness: after some early print damage, obviously missing scenes, the clearly-labelled “Missing Reel” (which, in one of the film’s few authentic-feeling touches, is a sexy sequence), and — in the best grindhouse-style touch — a shoddily-replaced title card, the picture quality gradually loses its flaws until a climax that seems visually faultless. Perhaps QT’s imagined behind-the-scenes story was that every projectionist got bored of the film by this point so the latter reels survived in pristine condition…

But it’s not just the increasing lack of dilapidated print quality that prevents Death Proof from selling its concept. The screenplay is clearly a QT work, much more so than most of Kill Bill or even Inglourious Basterds, especially when the girls indulge in long dialogue scenes of the real-world-natter variety. It’s like the opening of Reservoir Dogs, only with girls instead of guys and repeated two or three times throughout the film. One such scene is even shot in a very long single take, the camera constantly roving around the four girls sat round a table. It’s a technically impressive bit of work for any film; as a supposed product of a low-budget horror-thriller flick destined for the grindhouse circuit, it’s beyond improbable. In short, it’s all too well written and directed to convince as grindhouse. Though he does get to indulge in a couple of lingering shots of the female form, in particular his regular foot fetish.

QT almost makes up for all this with the final twenty minutes, featuring some impressive car stunt action. As noted, by this point any pretense of being a grindhouse-style film has been done away with: the image is devoid of all but minor damage, the stunt work — all done for real, I believe — pretty impressive. Whether it conforms to the style statement of the film or not (that’d be a “not”), it does manage to entertain. Tarantino’s decades of studying action-filled trash clearly pay off here as well as they did in Kill Bill, and if he chooses to create some more action-centric pictures in the future it would be no bad thing.

One thing that left me uncertain was the decision to slaughter his main cast halfway through. Firstly, the death-inducing crash is another sequence that’s too well done for such a pretend-cheap film, repeating the impact four times to show the imaginative fate of each victim. Brutal, yes, but one of the few moments that matches Planet Terror for effectiveness. The actual act of removing the three lead characters is audacious, maybe, but mainly so because QT’s spent so long apparently trying to invest us in these characters and their lives. It makes all the dialogue scenes we’ve sat through feel even more pointless, especially those setting up slightly dull romantic-ish subplots.

It also leads to a cameo appearance for a handful of Planet Terror characters, which could be fun but ultimately feels ill-conceived to me. In no other way do these films appear to be set in the same world, or have any other connection — indeed, cast members such as Rose McGowan and Tarantino himself appear in completely different roles in each film. The crossover didn’t feel in the grindhouse spirit to me; it felt in the “Rob and I are buddies and did this for no good reason” spirit. And it certainly took me out of the film. In fact, it might’ve played better if the films were the other way round, as it means Death Proof must be set before Planet Terror. I’d approve of this switch not only for chronological reasons, but because seeing one-scene bit-parters turn up in the-same-but-larger roles in the second film seems like it would be more satisfying as a viewer, rather than re-encountering these (in any case, minor) characters the way we do.

A length-based aside: as I mentioned, both films were released separately outside the US, and in both cases were extended. By my calculations, the Grindhouse cut of Planet Terror is just under 15 minutes shorter, while Death Proof is around 20 minutes shorter. More on that when I get round to watching the individual versions.

Grindhouse ends up being every bit a film of two halves, as you might expect a double-bill to be. Up until the end of the trailers, I was loving its commitment to the concept and the fun it was having with it — all credit to Rodriguez for that, as well as the trailer directors of course. But Tarantino’s entry lets the side down by seeming to fail in its execution of the film’s conceit. I’m not convinced it would be any better viewed as a standalone Quentin Tarantino Film, but in context it certainly disappoints.

If QT could’ve produced an effort as successful as his mate’s, Grindhouse would’ve been on course for full marks; not because it’s a Good Film, but because it would have fully realised its potential-filled concept in a thoroughly entertaining way. The finished product is still entertaining, but not thoroughly. It loses a star, but does retain a moderate chance of appearing on my Best Of Year list.

~~Grindhouse is out on Blu-ray, exclusive to hmv, from today.~~
Grindhouse’s constituent parts, Death Proof and Planet Terror, are on TCM tonight from 9pm until 1:30am.

Star Trek: Insurrection (1998)

Posted on October 15, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #81
Jonathan Frakes | 99 mins | TV (HD) | PG / PG

Many years ago, back when both the shows I’m about to mention were still on the air, someone drew a comparison that I felt summed up the whole of ’90s/’00s Star Trek. The two series in question were Farscape and Star Trek: Voyager, both of which concern humans trapped far away from Earth with no feasible way home, and the comparison went something like this: if the crew were offered a way to jump straight to Earth in exchange for a crewmember’s limb, in Farscape they’d discuss it briefly, then hack the limb off, hand it over, and be betrayed, all before the opening titles; in Star Trek: Voyager, they’d sit around discussing it for the whole episode before deciding “better not” and going on their way. Hopefully the point makes itself.

Insurrection seemed, apparently, the very personification of this idea. Rather than the broadly action-adventure style of First Contact, or other big contemporary sci-fi movies like Independence Day, The Fifth Element, Lost in Space, Armageddon, or even Star Wars Episode I — itself lamented (in part) for featuring too much discussion of trade blockades and whatnot — Insurrection concerns a minor dispute over a survey mission to a single planet. Yawn, right?

Actually, this is when Insurrection is at its best. Action-adventure undoubtedly has a place in science-fiction, but so do wordier stories — when they’re done right, and when they’re where you expect them to be. You shouldn’t expect them from Star Wars; you should from Star Trek. (That doesn’t make Voyager’s attitude better than Farscape’s, incidentally; not if it was boring or implausibly honourable considering their situation. But that isn’t the matter at hand.) And so the first 45 minutes or so are mostly enjoyable. Critics say even this isn’t as deep as The Next Generation on TV got in its prime, but having not seen much of that I can’t compare; as a film by itself, the disputes and political wrangling kept me engaged. But then it begins an attempt to be all Exciting, at which point it begins to get dull, degenerating into a stock runaround and shoot-out, only with some disappointingly cheap CGI here and there.

There’s a greater array of fan-pleasing nods and winks this time out. As with First Contact, they have to find an excuse to get Worf back on board (at the time, in universe continuity, he was on Deep Space 9 in Deep Space 9). Luckily little time is spent on this, but there are myriad references to DS9, the Dominion, the Borg, the Romulans — all of it irrelevant to the story at hand, all of it suggesting stuff was happening in the concurrent TV series that the filmmakers wanted fans to be sure they were aware of. Removed from that context by over a decade, and to a viewer not submersed in the Trek universe, it’s safe to say we don’t care. Elsewhere, Data gets a significant subplot — as per usual, then — and Picard gets a sort-of love interest. Perhaps it’s actually these bits the critics latched on to…

Most negative reviews — so, most reviews — accused the film of being essentially a TV episode (or two, of course), not earning itself a spot on the big screen. They may have a point. The subject matter isn’t at fault — a planet with the ability to make everyone live forever has suitably large potential — but the execution of it is frequently low-key. This isn’t too bad in the first half, which maintains the interest as it unfurls the story, but when it degenerates into action in the second half it falls apart. It’s no longer interesting and, ironically, looks made-for-TV, lacking inspired direction or suitable scope. Perhaps it would’ve been better served as a TV episode; or, as a film, better served by a writer and/or director and/or producer with greater vision.

Film4 and Film4 HD are showing the first ten Star Trek films across Saturday 16th and Sunday 17th October. Insurrection is on at 9pm on Sunday.
Star Trek: Insurrection is on Channel 4 today, Sunday 21st September 2014, at 3:30pm.

Star Trek: First Contact (1996)

Posted on October 15, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #74
Jonathan Frakes | 106 mins | TV (HD) | 12 / PG-13

“Even ones good, odd ones bad.” So went Star Trek fans’ theory about the quality of the series’ big-screen spin-offs, until Nemesis (aka Star Trek 10) turned out to be a bit rubbish and Star Trek (aka Star Trek 11) went down a storm. Still, such a theory was always going to fall apart eventually, wasn’t it.

First Contact comes before all that though — it’s Star Trek 8, the first theatrical adventure for the Next Generation team all by their lonesome (they shared the preceding film, Generations, with (some of) the original series crew). It also seems to be widely regarded as not just in the film series’ upper half, but as one of the best episodes the entire franchise has produced. As a professed non-Trekkie (though I must confess the whole thing’s growing on me with age), what did I make of one of the franchise’s shining lights?

It gets off to a flying start. The first 20 or 30 minutes in particular move at a rate of knots, churning through plot in a way no blockbuster would seem to dare these days. Perhaps it’s because I’d expected more time with the characters, fan-pleasing “reacquaint yourself with the crew” time, or Trek’s renowned “sit around and consider what to do” talkiness. Instead, it pushes relentlessly through plot points: a Borg attack; the Enterpise ordered not to join the fight; Picard doing so anyway; the destruction of the Borg cube; the Borg, erm, ball flying into the past; the Enterprise following; meeting Zephram Cochrane and his lot… It’s boom boom boom, moving on. It’s nice to rattle through a tale, rather than taking frequent stops to Pause For Thought or have a Character Moment or what have you. Those are there, but they’re either placed around the action or in the (slightly slower, to be honest) later stages. Similarly (broadly), the climax is dependent on a bit of information we’re given much earlier in the film. It’s not explained again, either before or after the event, the film just assumes we’ll remember it. Nice to be treated with some intelligence.

For all that, I still got the sense of it being a bit like two or three episodes of TV stuck together, albeit two particularly epic stories with a slightly bigger budget. The story on Earth is a bit of a sideline, for example, the kind of thing that’s added to give half the cast something to do. Perhaps that’s unfair — it’s a decent enough tale, with significant relevance to the Trek universe, but it’s also low-key and, aside from being kicked off by a Borg attack, entirely unrelated to the goings-on on the Enterprise. Visually it’s even more of a mixed bag. Borg costumes and effects are at times impressive — the Queen being lowered into her body, robotic spine dangling, still looks good today, and her makeup is exemplary — but other drones seem to be clad in cheap bodysuits… which the actors surely are, but it looks it.

In fairness, however, the CGI-and-model-combo (I believe) space battles and whatnot also look good. How sparingly they’re used is almost bizarre in today’s climate of endless effects shot — a typical sci-fi TV episode now would have more computer effects than First Contact does, I reckon. The Enterprise itself looks a little odd today. With Alien-inspired industrial ships, or at least darker and more functional ones like those of Battlestar Galactica, becoming the norm in sci-fi, seeing one so plasticky — and with carpeted corridors! — feels very… well, ’90s, I suppose. Not a problem per se, though whether that plastickiness is deliberate or another cheapening element may be down to personal taste.

For a newbie, or a viewer light on Trek knowledge, it all works fine. There’s an awareness one’s missing out on something — Picard’s previous encounter with the Borg is alluded to often but not explained in full; even for me, as someone well aware that it’s one of sci-fi’s Big Stories, but who has never actually seen it, there’s a certain lack of explanation. Featuring a couple of new characters from hundreds of years before TNG’s regular timeline helps, because the crew occasionally have to tell them things everyone else would know; the downside is they’re not meant to be telling them everything, so some stuff still passes us by. But, importantly, none of this ever swamps the story; they’re just touches and moments that I know I’m not getting.

Despite half the plot being about changing history (or, changing it to keep it on track), the film doesn’t really tackle the issues inherent in changing the past. But then again, it doesn’t really set itself the task of doing so, so perhaps that’s OK: the crew set history back on course, more or less, so what more is there? A clever nod might’ve been nice — for example, Riker and La Forge made the first warp flight with Cochrane, so why aren’t they in the history books? I can’t help but feel the opportunity to use this, even if for a little joke, is being missed.

One sequence makes nice use of the Holodeck — as one of TNG’s best-remembered elements, it makes sense to squeeze it into the film — though unfortunately it also presents a plot hole, something the film is riddled with. All are quite small and some explained away if you try for yourself, but others are distracting. Take the way the Borg constantly ignore the humans, for example: early on Picard explains that they won’t be noticed until they seem a threat… but they’re all carrying whopping great guns. And surely the very fact the humans have turned up deems them a threat? Also, why don’t the Borg recognise Picard? And later, during the largely fantastic sequence on the Enterprise’s hull, Picard, Worf and Hawk are clearly up to something nefarious and yet the Borg let them carry on. One or two Borg stop to intervene; Picard & co dispatch them; the rest of the Borg just keep working. Surely the fact these humans have just done away with several of your compatriots qualifies them as a threat that needs to be dealt with? It’s all a bit too convenient.

So how does First Contact stack up? Is it a film the Trek universe can be proud of? Largely, yes. Though it’s flawed, and not quite the break-out success that the 2009 Star Trek was — that felt like a new version of old elements (which it was), whereas this feels like an accessible continuation of an existing tale (which it is) — for those disposed to spaceship-based science-fiction, there’s much to like.

Film4 and Film4 HD are showing the first ten Star Trek films across Saturday 16th and Sunday 17th October. First Contact is on at 6:40pm on Sunday.

Star Trek: First Contact is on E4 tonight, Friday 4th July 2014, at 9pm.

Angels & Demons: Extended Version (2009)

Posted on October 3, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #100b
Ron Howard | 146 mins | Blu-ray | 15

Back in this blog’s early days, I established the rule that where a different cut of a film was not significantly different to the original version it wouldn’t be counted towards my total (assuming I’d seen the original, that is — if it’s the first time I’ve seen any version of the film, it still counts). There’s no hard criteria for what counts as “significantly different” though. A couple of additional minutes? No. A lot of additional minutes? Yes. Where’s the line between “a couple” and “a lot”? No idea. Thus far, I’ve left it up to “a feeling”, perhaps not always correctly (the I Am Legend “alternate theatrical version”, for instance, makes quite an impact with its new ending, but I didn’t give it a new number).

Which more-or-less brings us to the extended cut of Angels & Demons, which I first saw in the cinema in May 2009. This version is 7½ minutes longer than the “theatrical version” also contained on the Blu-ray disc, though it’s worth noting that’s the US theatrical version — the UK one was trimmed for violence. That’s not a hugely increased running time, true, but it has potential to make a difference. As I expect you’ve guessed from the lack of new number, in practice it doesn’t.

There are changes, of course there are, and they’re outlined here (though I swear I saw some of those bits in the cinema), but as you can see, most are barely noticeable — that list memorably describes one bluntly as a “useless extension”. While watching I wondered if the violence had been extended (I was right), and there was one line I found particularly funny which I thought I’d’ve remembered (indeed, it’s new), but other than that if you’d told me this was the cut I watched in cinemas I’d believe you. This longer cut doesn’t make the film better or worse, just less suitable for younger viewers.

My general thoughts on the film aren’t much different to last time. Though I must be sure to mention Pierfrancesco Favino as Inspector Olivetti, the Vatican policeman who is actually one of the film’s best characters, injecting a modicum of charm and humour into proceedings while snatching almost all the best lines (not that there are many).

The tale moves at a pretty rollicking pace without attempting to force a sense of speed. From my point of view, a good hour shot by in what felt like half the time. I don’t think the perceived speed is because this was a second viewing, because I did notice it the first time, I just didn’t have a handy timecode ticking away next to the screen then. The chase structure and constant deadlines help ensure the pace rarely lets up as characters dash from one set-piece to the next. It doesn’t make for a deep or thoughtful movie, despite some of the ideas and history that are tossed around, but it does make for a moderately exciting thriller.

In this respect — that it’s an action-based thriller rather than a lot of talky theorising — I think it translates better to the screen than The Da Vinci Code did. That said, I’ve still not read the novel, so can’t comment on faithfulness. Wikipedia suggests it’s very close, though with a few appropriate modifications that don’t impact on the plot a great deal.

It’s still riddled with flaws, mind. Some of the dialogue is fairly atrocious (but at least it’s only some); exposition is often blatant and repetitive (we’re told what the preferiti are three or four times in as many minutes); some of the deductive leaps are a bit much; and the whole antimatter bomb still seems scientifically suspect. It all depends how much you’re willing to forgive, really. In a similar vein, one of the most contentious issues of Dan Brown’s novels is his use of “truth”. He mixes well-researched fact with his own creation at will, often leaving you to wonder if what you’re hearing is pure truth, truth bent to the plot, or a total fabrication. But then this isn’t a history or art lesson, it’s a mystery thriller, and if one wants to know more I’m sure there are books to read and documentaries to watch.

In short, then, the Angels & Demons extended cut is basically the same as the theatrical version. If you enjoyed that then you might want to seek this out for your next viewing, just because why not? If you weren’t impressed before, however, there’s no special incentive to try again.

My original review of Angels & Demons can be read here.

Terminator Salvation: Director’s Cut (2009)

Posted on September 3, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #72
McG | 118 mins | Blu-ray | 12 / R

Terminator Salvation begins with a title sequence that displays the film’s title twice. I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and all that, but somehow it just doesn’t bode well.

However, I was somewhat surprised — after the mass of negative reviews — to discover that I quite liked Terminator Salvation. Sacrilege! But, let’s see if I can explain why…

I’ll begin with the most obvious potential flaw (other than the very concept of continuing the Terminator franchise without James Cameron, that is): director McG, he of the two risible Charlie’s Angels films. Oh dear. But it turns out he’s a surprisingly good director — he certainly does better work than the cheap hack job Jonathan Mostow made of Terminator 3. I doubt everyone agrees on this point, but whatever else you may wish to say about McG, he knows how to put an action sequence together. Most of the time. There’s still some shaky-cam business and very fast cuts, but the sense of geography and what’s actually happening is largely maintained.

This is helped by two things: one, that several sequences involve Giant Robots that benefit from very wide, often aerial, shots to show them off; and two, the apparent inspiration of Children of Men’s long-take action sequences. McG doesn’t quite have Alfonso Cuarón’s conviction in maintaining the single shot for an entire sequence, but he does use it for significant chunks. That said, the latter sometimes backfires. Early on the film feels a bit like watching someone else play a first person shooter, compounded by McG’s habit of sticking with one character throughout sequences that could benefit from a wider perspective, for example Connor’s helicopter crash. That said (again), I’m a little torn what to think of that example: keeping the camera on Connor produces an unusual spin on a potentially familiar sequence, but it’s also a bit disorientating and, as I say, compounds this sense of watching someone else play a game.

Story wise, I thought it fared fairly well. The tale of how John Connor came to meet Kyle Reese and become leader of the resistance wasn’t exactly begging to be told, but if you’re going to continue the franchise into post-Judgement Day future war territory it was probably the best place to start. Terminator 3 proved that the narrative of Arnie/any other Terminator coming back to our present to save Connor/prevent Judgement Day wasn’t in need of reheating again, so it’s also nice to be presented with a slightly more original story within the same universe.

It’s not all fine and dandy though: the behind-the-scenes issues you may have heard about are fitfully apparent on screen, with occasional awkward jumps or half-thought-out developments that smack of an unfinished script or compromised edit. Some of the dialogue’s pretty poor too — considering it starts off pleasantly economical, it’s a shame when characters begin uncomfortably stating the obvious as it wears on.

And even if you hadn’t seen it on the box or heard about it in all the film’s publicity, it’s obvious pretty early on that Marcus Wright will turn out to be a Terminator. To McG’s credit, he plays the ultimate reveal quite well — for those who know, it just about functions as a scene in its own right; for those who still hadn’t guessed, it works as a reveal — but if any filmmaker genuinely thought they’d kept it covered up they were sorely mistaken, and the first half could’ve done with a more knowing rewrite to compensate. Or just delete the prologue.

Littered throughout are numerous nods to the franchise’s history, some of which occur quite naturally, others that feel shoehorned in. I suppose it kept some people happy. The same can be said of the action sequences, though one of the most forced — an attack by a random Giant Robot on an abandoned gas station our heroes only happen to have stopped at — also turns out to be one of the best. Others though, like John Connor taking out a Moto-Terminator with a bit of rope, are more “wouldn’t that be cool to see?” than logical behaviour in the context of the story.

There’s not much for the cast to do either, with a multi-pronged story that leaves everyone feeling short changed. Christian Bale growls a bit and occasionally looks Meaningful as John Connor. At least he doesn’t use his Batman voice. His part was artificially boosted following the star’s casting, which dilutes the focus from where it should be: Marcus Wright, played by the new Colin Farrell (i.e. he’s being cast in everything based on the fact someone said he was The Next Big Thing), Sam Worthington. He’s fine as ever, though his accent seems to waver between American and his native Australian. The same can’t be said of Helena Bonham Carter’s brief turn — her voice hits a constant fake American. Meanwhile, Arnie’s digitised cameo is just that. On the one hand it’s a nice touch, on the other it’s ultimately pointless — Connor doesn’t even react to the familiar face.

Bryce Dallas Howard is severely underused as Kate Connor; one wonders if her part was massively cut back at some point, or if she was just tempted by an exceptionally good payday — considering she usually appears in smaller, better-regarded films, an almost non-existent role in a blockbuster seems an odd choice. That said, she did the same thing in Spider-Man 3 and has since plumped for a role in the Twilight ~~exploitative moneymaker~~ series, so I guess my analysis of her career choices is off.

Finally, then, what of the Director’s Cut? I’ve not seen the theatrical so can’t comment myself, but the changes are few and most are ultimately insignificant. There’s a thorough, illustrated list here. Perhaps the most interesting thing (and you’ll see how I meant that loosely) about the newer cut is what it once again shows about the differences between the UK and the US: over here, it retained its theatrical 12 certificate when extended by just under three minutes to include ever-so-slightly more violence and the briefest of brief nudity; in the US, that bumped it up to an R.

More interesting than these slight tweaks is the behind-the-scenes story of a very different film, which I alluded to earlier. I don’t want to discuss it at length, but this article does. Would that have made for a better film? Christ knows. I wouldn’t count on it. Probably not, even. But it is interesting.

It’s not popular to like Terminator Salvation, that’s for certain, and I suppose it depends what you expect from the film. Is it the equal of the first two genre-definers? No. Is it better than the rehashed hack-directed third? Yes. Did I actually enjoy it? You know what, I did; and considering the reviews had me expecting to hate its poorly-made guts for just about every reason under the sun, it turns out that’s a good result.

Terminator Salvation begins on Sky Movies Premiere today at 10am and 8pm, and is on every day at various times until Thursday 9th September.

Inception (2010)

Posted on August 6, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #69
Christopher Nolan | 148 mins | cinema | 12A / PG-13

This review ends by calling Inception a “must-see”. I’m telling you this now for two reasons. Primarily, because this review contains major spoilers, and it does seem a little daft to end a review presumably aimed at those who’ve seen the film with a recommendation that they should see it.

Secondly, because Inception — and here’s your first spoiler, sort of — also begins at the end. Now, this is normally a sticking point for me: too many films these days do it, the vast majority have no need to. I’m not convinced Inception needs to either, but it makes a better job of it than most. It does mean that, as the film approaches this moment in linear course, you know it’s coming several minutes ahead of its arrival, but for once that may be half the point.

As you undoubtedly know, Inception is about people who can get into dreams and steal ideas. Now they’re employed to get into a dream and plant an idea. This is either impossible or extremely hard, depending on which character you listen to. And that’s the setup — it’s really not as complicated as some would have you imagine. What follows is, in structural terms, a typical heist movie: Leonardo DiCaprio’s Cobb is the leader, he puts together a team of specialists, they do the heist, which has complexities and takes up the third act. Where it gets complicated is that this isn’t a casino robbery or betting scam or whatever other clichés have developed in heist movie history, but the aforementioned implanting of an idea; and so, the film has to explain to us how this whole business works.

The explanation of the rules and the intricacies of the plot occupy almost all of Inception’s not-inconsiderable running time. There’s little in the way of character development, there’s (according to some) little in the way of emotion. But do either of these things matter? Or, rather, why do they have to matter? Why can’t a film provide a ‘cold’ logic puzzle for us to deduce, or be shown the methodology of, if that’s what it wants to do? When I watch an emotional drama I don’t complain that there’s no complex series of mysteries for me to unravel; when I settle down to a lightweight comedy I don’t expect insight into human psychology; musical fans don’t watch everything moaning there aren’t enough songs; you don’t watch a chick flick and wonder when the shooting’s going to start. That is, unless you’re being unreasonable with you expectations.

The film centres on Cobb, it uses Ariadne (Ellen Page) as a method to investigate Cobb, and everyone else plays their role in the heist. And that’s fine. Perhaps Ken Watanabe’s Saito could do with some more depth, considering his presence in that opening flashforward and his significance to Cobb’s future, but then perhaps he’s the one who most benefits from the mystery. Some would like Michael Caine’s or Pete Postlethwaite’s characters to have more development and, bluntly, screentime; but I think their little-more-than-cameos do a lovely job of wrongfooting you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Some say the same thing about Lukas Haas’ tiny role, but I don’t know who he is so he may as well be anyone to me. Cast aside, there’s not much humour — well, no one promised you a comedy. At best you could claim it should be a wise-cracking old-school actioner, but it didn’t promise that either.

To complain about these things being missing is, in my view, to prejudge the film; to look at it thinking, “this is potentially the greatest film ever because, well, I would quite like it to be. And so it must have a bit of everything I’ve ever liked in a film”. Which is patently rubbish.

Taken on its own merits, Inception presents itself as a heist movie, a big puzzle to be solved, with a team leader who has some of his own demons. Now, you can argue that his demons are revealed in chunks of exposition rather than genuine emotion, and that might be a valid criticism that I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with; and you can argue that we’re not shown enough of the planning to fully appreciate the big damn logic puzzle of the heist, instead just seeing it unfold too quickly as they rush deeper and deeper into levels of dream, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that either; and you can argue that some of the action sequences could benefit from the narrative clarity Nolan (in both writer and director hats) clearly has about which level’s which and how they impact on each other, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that either… but if you’re going to expect the film to offer something it didn’t suggest it was going to… well, tough.

And the film isn’t entirely devoid of character, it’s just light on it. All the performances are fine. DiCaprio is finally beginning to look older than 18 and better able to convince as a man who has lost his family and therefore most of what he cares about. He wants a way home, he gets a shot at it, and he goes for it. Him aside, it’s a bit hard to call on the performances after one viewing: there’s nothing wrong with any of them, it’s just that they’ve not got a great deal to do — the film is, as noted, more concerned with explaining the world and the heist. How much anyone has put into their part might only become apparent (at least to this reviewer) on repeated viewings. Probably the most memorable, however, is Tom Hardy’s Eames, which is at least in part because he gets the lion’s share of both charm and funny lines.

The plot and technicalities of the world are mostly well explained. Is it dense? Yes. Some have confused this for a lack of clarity but, aside from a few flaws I’ll raise in a minute, everything you need is there. Some, even those who liked it, have criticised it for the bits it definitely does leave out. How exactly can Saito get Cobb home? Whose subconscious are they going into now? What are the full details of the way the machinery they use works? The thing is, it doesn’t matter. None of it does. It would’ve taken Nolan ten seconds to explain some of these things, but does he need to? No. Do you really care? OK, well — Saito is best chums with the US Attorney General, so he asks nicely and Cobb’s off the hook. Sorted. It’s not in the film because it doesn’t need to be; it’s not actually relevant to the story, or the themes, or the characters, or anything else. Apparently this distracts some people. Well, I can’t tell them it’s fine if it’s going to keep distracting them, but…

It’s fine. Because Nolan only skips over information we don’t need to know — precisely because we don’t need it. Should it matter whose mind we’re in? Maybe it should. But it would seem it doesn’t, because it’s all constructed by Ariadne and populated by the target anyway, and apparently anyone’s thoughts can interfere — they never go into Cobb’s mind, but Mal is always cropping up, not to mention that freight train — so why do we care whose brain they’re in? It seems little more than a technicality. And as for how the system works… well, we’re given hints at how it developed, and the rules and other variables are explained (for example, how mixing different chemicals affects the level of sleep and, as it turns out, whether you get to wake up), but — again — we’re told everything we need to know and no more. Because you don’t need anything else. It’s all covered. And if it’s as complicated as so many are saying, why are you begging for unnecessary detail?

And I have more issues with other reviews, actually. I think the desire for more outlandish dreams is misplaced. It’s clearly explained that the dreamer can’t be allowed to know he’s dreaming, so surely if they were in some trippy psychedelic dreamscape — which would hardly be original either, to boot — they’d probably catch on this wasn’t Reality. On the flip side, this rule could be easily worked around — “in dreams, we just accept everything that happens as possible, even when it obviously isn’t” — but where’s the dramatic tension in that? There’s tension in them needing to be convinced it’s real; if anything goes… well, anything goes, nothing would be of consequence, the only story would be them completing a danger-free walk-in-the-park mission.

Much has also been made in reviews of the skill displayed by editor Lee Smith in cutting back & forth between the multiple dream levels, a supposedly incredibly hard job. And it is well done, make no mistake — but it also sounds harder than it is. Really, it’s little different than keeping track of characters in three or four different locations simultaneously; it’s just that these locations are levels of dream/consciousness rather than worldly space. Still no mean feat, but not as hard as keeping three different time periods/narrators distinct and clear, as Nolan & co did in The Prestige.

Then there’s the final shot, which has initiated mass debating in some corners of the internet (yes, that dire pun is fully intentional). In my estimation, and despite some people’s claims to definitiveness, it proves nothing. Some have taken it as undoubted confirmation that Cobb is dreaming all along — the top keeps spinning! Mal said it never stops in a dream! — but I swear we saw it stop earlier in the film, so was that not a dream but now he is in one? How would that work? Others have suggested Cobb is in fact the victim of an inception; that we’ve watched a con movie where we never saw the team, and couldn’t work out who they were. Perhaps; but for this to work surely it’s dependent on a way that we can work out who they were, and what their plan was, and how they did it? Otherwise we may as well start picking on every movie and say “ah, but characters X, Y and Z are actually a secret team doing a secret thing, but we never know what the secret thing is, or what the result of that is”. In other words, it’s pointless unless it’s decipherable.

And still further, the top doesn’t stop spinning on screen. But you can make those things spin for a damn long time before they fall over, if you do it right, so who can say it’s just not done yet? If it does fall over, eventually, sometime after the credits end, then that’s that, it’s the real world after all. Presumably. And that’s without starting on all the other evidence throughout the film: repeated phrases, unclear jumps in location, the first scene that may or may not be different the second time we see it…

Something’s going on, but is it just thematic, or is it all meant to hint that Cobb’s in a dream? And if he is, who (if anyone) is controlling it? To what end? I’m certain that those answers, at least, aren’t to be found, so, again, are the questions valid? My view — on the final shot, at least — is, perhaps too pragmatically, that it’s just a parting shot from Nolan: it doesn’t reveal the Secret Truth of the whole film, it just suggests that maybe — maybe — there’s even more going on. Maybe. And I’m not sure he even knows what that would be or if there is; beyond that the top still spinning as the credits roll is an obvious, irresistible tease. He wouldn’t be the first filmmaker to do such a thing Just Because.

Or there’s always the ‘third version’: that the top doesn’t stop not because it doesn’t stop but because the film ends. Ooh, film-school-tastic. Also, stating the bleeding obvious. I believe it was suggested as a bona fide explanation by one of Lost’s producers, and so is surely automatically classifiable in the “tosh” bin along with that TV series. Presumably it’s ‘deep thoughts’ like that which led to an ending that left many fans unsatisfied. But I digress. He’s right in the sense that the film doesn’t tell us, but it’s not an explanation of it in and of itself unless you want to be insufferably pretentious: it is ambiguous, yes, but it’s not a comment on the artificiality of storytelling or whatever. And if it is… well, I’ll choose to ignore that, thanks, because, no.

I alluded earlier to flaws. If anything, the final act heist is too quick. With, ultimately, four layers of dreams to progress through, not enough time is devoted to establishing and utilising each one. It’s as if Nolan set up a neat idea then realised he couldn’t fully exploit it. They have a week in one world, months in the next, years in the next… but it doesn’t matter, because events come into play that give them increasingly less time at each level. Would it not have been more interesting to craft a heist that actually used the years of dreamtime at their disposal, rather than a fast-edited & scored extended action sequence across all four levels? It makes for an exciting finale when they need to get out, true, but I couldn’t help feeling it didn’t exploit one of the more memorable and significant elements enough.

Indeed, at times the film operates with such efficiency that one can’t help but wonder if there’s another half-hour cut out that it would be quite nice to have back. I appreciate some have criticised the film for already being too long; it would seem I quite decidedly disagree. And not in the fannish “oh I just want more” way that really means they should just get hold of a copy and watch it on loop; I literally mean it could be around half an hour longer and, assuming that half-hour was filling the bits I felt could handle some filling (i.e. not the omitted bits I was fine with nine paragraphs back), I would be more than happy with that. I did not get bored once.

Still on the flaws: Mal (that’d be Cobb’s wife — I’ve been assuming you knew this, sorry if I shouldn’t have) is talked up as a great, interfering, troublesome force… yet she’s rarely that much of a bother. At the start, sure, so we know that she is; and then in Cobb’s own mind when Ariadne pops in for a visit, but that’s why he’s there so it goes without saying; and then, really, it’s not ’til she puts in a brief appearance to execute Fischer that we see her again (unless I’m forgetting a moment?) And apparently Ariadne has had some great realisation that Mal’s affecting Cobb’s work, and Ariadne’s the only one who knows this… but hold on, didn’t Arthur seem all too aware of how often Mal had been cropping up? Does he promptly forget this after she shoots him? Mal is a potentially interesting villainess, especially as she’s actually a construct of Cobb’s subconscious, but I’m not convinced her part is fully developed in the middle.

On a different note, some of the visuals are truly spectacular. I don’t hold to the notion, expressed by some disappointed reviewers, that we’ve seen it all before. The Matrix may have offered broadly similar basic concepts in places, but Inception provides enough work of its own for that not to matter. But there is another problem: we have seen it all before. In the trailer. It’s a little like (oddly) Wanted. That comic book adaptation promised amazing, outrageous, impossible stunts through an array showcased in the trailer. “Wow,” thought (some) viewers, “if that’s what’s in the trailer, imagine what they’ve saved for the film!” Turned out, nothing. And Inception is pretty much the same. The exploding Parisian street, the folding city, the zero-G corridor, the crumbling cliff-faces… all look great, but there’s barely any astounding visual that wasn’t shown in full in the trailer. Is that a problem? Only fleetingly.

But it’s the kind of thing that makes me think Inception will work better on a second viewing. Not for the sake of understanding, but to remove it from the hype and expectation. I’ve seen it now, I know what it is, I’ve seen what it has to offer, I’ve had the glowing reviews and the lambasting reviews either affirmed or rejected, and next time I can actually get a handle on what the film is like. Which makes for an anti-climactic ending to a review, really — “ah, I’ll tell you next time”. Well, I can say this:

Inception is certainly worth watching. I’m not sure it’s a masterpiece — maybe it is — but I’m certain it’s not bad. I don’t think it’s as complicated to follow as some believe, but maybe that’s just because I was prepared to pay attention, and equally prepared to disregard the bits that aren’t necessary rather than struggle to fully comprehend every minute detail. It is flawed, though perhaps some of those I picked up on can be explained (in the way I’m certain some others I’ve discussed can be explained). Is it cold and unemotional? Not entirely. Is it more concerned with the technicalities of the heist and the rules of the game than its characters and their emotions? Yes. Is that a problem? Not really.

At the very least, if only for all the reaction it’s provoked and the debate it will continue to foster, Inception qualifies as a must-see.

Inception placed 3rd on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2010, which can be read in full here.

Sherlock Holmes (2010)

Posted on July 24, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #45
Rachel Lee Goldenberg | 89 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

From the company that brought you such pinnacles of cinematic excellence as AVH: Alien vs. Hunter, Snakes on a Train and Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus comes the latest in a long line of cheaply-produced blockbuster cash-ins, this time tied to… well, I think you know. (While I’m at it, I encourage you to look at their website — the sheer volume of these ‘mockbusters’ they’ve produced now is almost impressive.)

You wait decades for a new Sherlock Holmes film and then two come along at once. One is the Guy Ritchie-directed Robert Downey Jr-starring genuine blockbuster moneymaker. The other is thankfully not the rumoured Sacha Baron Cohen/Seth Rogen/Judd Apatow/other faintly irritating people (I forget who was involved) comedy vehicle, but instead a direct-to-DVD cash-in from mockbuster kings The Asylum. Yes, I’d rather this version, thanks.

I’ve not seen an Asylum film before, but I hear this is one of their best. It’s not exactly “good” by any reasonable definition, but as “cable TV movie” quality goes I’d say it trumps the dull Case of Evil. And dull this certainly isn’t — sea monsters! dinosaurs! dragons! air battles! If you thought Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes looked disrespectfully blockbusterised, it seems positively Brettian by comparison.

But, in The Asylum’s favour, their Sherlock Holmes doesn’t hide what it is. Yes, it’s called simply Sherlock Holmes rather than Sherlock Holmes and the Implausible CGI Monsters, but at least said monsters are plastered all over the DVD cover (both US and UK). If you see that and still expect something faithful to Conan Doyle, more fool you. That said, at times it’s surprisingly faithful to Doyle’s spirit. There’s some decent-ish investigation and deduction, the story structured like a mystery rather than an action-adventure.

But you can’t escape the dinosaurs, sea monsters and dragons, or the various steampunk elements introduced towards the climax. And so your enjoyment probably depends on your expectations. Some of the acting’s poor — not least Ben Syder’s camp short-arse Holmes, sadly — and the CGI’s weak, looking like a ’90s syndicated TV series. The direction occasionally lacks competence and a couple of action sequences are pointlessly repetitive.

Anachronisms abound, the best being the first: the film opens in London, 1940, the middle of the Blitz, and the opening shot foregrounds the Millennium Bridge. I don’t think you have to be too familiar with London to know when that was built. Elsewhere we get intercoms on houses, incongruous light switches and period inaccurate telephones, just to mention a couple. It’s shoddy, yes, but almost part of the fun.

But, for all the faults, there are positives. It’s still not “good”, but it is often “quite fun”. Thoroughly daft, certainly, but — provided you don’t demand too much — quite entertaining because of it.

Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ modern-day re-imagining of Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock, starts at 9pm tomorrow on BBC One.

Tomorrow night, my review of the Guy Ritchie Sherlock Holmes.

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