Batman: The Dark Knight Returns – Deluxe Edition (2013)

Posted on October 3, 2013 by badblokebob

Warner Premiere’s $7 million animated adaptation of one of the seminal graphic novels is here rejigged from its original two–part release into a single two-and-a-half-hour experience. To persuade those who didn’t make the purchases first time around — and to lure back those who did — the Deluxe Edition Blu-ray also includes a new cast & crew audio commentary and a 79-minute documentary about Frank Miller’s original novel, as well as all the old special features. I don’t normally review editions on here, but in this case it’s relevant.

But before all that, what of the new cut itself? Personally, I felt it worked better as two movies.

Thing is, Miller’s original wasn’t just released as four issues, it’s very much a four-parter: sure, there’s an overarching plot, but each issue/chapter works as a finite unit. In making the transition to the screen, director Jay Oliva and screenwriter Bob Goodman did a great job of adapting two issues at a time to create two complete-feeling films: Part 1 tells the tale of Batman vs the mutants, building to a cliffhanger; Part 2 deals with the fallout of said cliffhanger.

As one long film, it fades to black halfway through and then resumes again. Whole new plot threads suddenly appear that, were this conceived as a single 2½-hour movie, should have been introduced earlier in the running time. The pace goes skwiffy, because it was designed to flow naturally as two distinct movies — action sequences butt up against each other in the middle of the film, one of which is basically a climax before the halfway mark. Considering Miller’s original structure, that arguably leaves the film with a good three or four climaxes scattered throughout.

I suppose you could count these as nothing more than niggles. Given the choice, I think this adaptation functions better in its original, intended, two-part version; but the single-film version is not fundamentally different to double-billing its constituent parts. (If you want more detailed thoughts on the film itself, you can find my original review of Part 1 here and Part 2 here.)

Though there are aesthetic reasons for choosing to watch The Dark Knight Returns as two separate features, there are several unavoidable reasons why picking up the Deluxe Edition is preferable. For starters, it’s potentially a heckuva lot cheaper. I don’t know how much Parts 1&2 are available for now, but the Deluxe Edition is only slightly more expensive than just one of those halves was when new. That said, from a UK perspective, importing it will cost in the region of £18, whereas Part 1 has already made its way into 2-for-£10 offers, and I’m sure Part 2 can’t be far behind.

Cost aside, the disc — or, rather, discs (two Blu-rays and a feature-only DVD) — themselves present a couple of incentives. Exactly two, in fact, because that’s the number of new special features. Oh, but they’re hefty ones: a feature-length audio commentary by director Jay Oliva, screenwriter Bob Goodman, and voice director Andrea Romano (for some reason the latter doesn’t merit a credit on either the box or the disc’s menu, but she is there); and a feature-length documentary all about the original graphic novel, Masterpiece: Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns. (I’ll review the latter separately at some point. If you like we can debate the line that distinguishes films from TV programmes/DVD special features/etc, but Masterpiece is almost 80 minutes long and begins with the full Warner Bros and DC Comics logos, just like A Proper Film, so I’m goin’ there.)

For the completist, all the original special features are also ported over. That’s five featurettes totalling almost two hours, delving into: the character of Carrie Kelly (aka Robin), the Joker, the film’s depiction of Superman vs Batman, the story of Batman’s creator Bob Kane, and a lengthy exploration of the adaptation and animation process with director Oliva, in a kind of Maximum Movie Mode style (though for 43½ minutes rather than the entire film — though that’s not to be sniffed at, is it?) There’s also five additional animation episodes from the archives (four from the classic Batman: The Animated Series and one from the more recent Batman: The Brave and the Bold). The only stuff that’s gone walkabouts are the Sneak Peek promos, though as they’re all for now-released titles that’s hardly a major loss (though as they constitute mini-featurettes rather than pure trailers, some completists may feel a mild tang of disappointment). All-in, you’re looking at 7½ hours of special features to complement your 2½-hour film, something even the most hardened whinge-happy fanboy would struggle to complain about.

While I’ll continue to champion viewing the two halves of The Dark Knight Returns as separate movies, this single-film version is far from a travesty. If you’ve already got the separate releases, it definitely isn’t worth picking this up just for the film; so a purchase depends on how much value you place on the commentary and Masterpiece documentary (oh, and four art cards found in the box, which I’ve used to illustrate this review). If you don’t own the existing releases then whichever way works out as most cost-effective (bearing in mind which extras can be found where, of course) is the way to go.

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns – Deluxe Edition is currently available in the US on DVD and Blu-ray as a Best Buy exclusive, but goes on wide release from next Tuesday, 8th October.

* Technically the BBFC haven’t classified this single-film version, but the two halves each received a 15. ^

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: ^

Dr. Strangelove (1964)

Posted on September 29, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

There are few things as weird (or, at least, weird in quite the same way) as watching an acclaimed and beloved classic film and… just not getting it. Here’s a paragon of moviemaking; a film that is not only exalted but, crucially, has remained in people’s affections against the forces of age; a thing that has truly stood the test of time… and yet… meh.

As you might have guessed, Dr. Strangelove was such a film for me. It’s not that I thought it was bad, it just didn’t click. I was expecting a comedy, but it took a good 20 to 30 minutes to get going humour-wise. Not sure there are any laughs in that period. Maybe one. After that it was funny in parts, but intermittently and unpredictably. Most of the best bits are quite subtle, though occasionally it explodes into a style that’s quite broad, especially the titular doctor and his final speech. I’m sure this is sacrilege, but I felt like it needed 15 to 20 minutes (or more) cutting out just to get on with things.

At times I wondered if the film might just want to be a straight thriller, but that Kubrick couldn’t escape what he saw as the inherent ludicrousness of the situation. Even if you wanted to try reading the film from that angle, the silly bits are too silly to take the rest seriously. I can’t help but feel this plot was better executed when it was called Fail-Safe. (Though, confession: I’ve not seen that. But I have seen this, and I preferred it.)

On the bright side, it’s beautifully shot, especially anything in the War Room or Ripper’s office, so it looks great on Blu-ray. There’s also sets by Ken Adam, which aren’t as outlandish as his famous Bond work but can be equally as striking, especially (again) the famous War Room.

In the end, I felt like I just didn’t get it. Not that I was watching something bad and I couldn’t fathom why so many people loved it, but that I just didn’t understand what it was I was meant to be seeing. Which is perhaps the same thing. I mean, I can see Kubrick was making an anti-war point at least as much as he was trying to make people laugh, but what do turgid sequences of people reading out numbers and flicking switches contribute to either of those aims? Perhaps the joke is meant to be in how long it goes on for? Like Family Guy. Has anyone ever said Dr. Strangelove and Family Guy are alike before, I wonder? Except I laugh more regularly during Family Guy.

Please don’t judge me.

Dr. Strangelove was viewed as part of my What Do You Mean You Haven’t Seen…? 12 for 2013 project, which you can read more about here.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Posted on September 9, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Iron Man Three

Some have described Iron Man 3 (or, as the onscreen title would have it, Iron Man Three) as “the best Iron Man yet”, even better than the exalted first movie. Others have described it as “at least better than Iron Man 2”, the derided first sequel. I thought the first one was a tad overrated and the second notably underrated, so where does this trilogy-forming instalment fall on my personal scale? Well, that depends what you want from an Iron Man film…

Following on from the events of Iron Man 2 and The Avengers, Tony Stark is a man with little purpose. The American government have a rebranded War Machine to do their bidding; Pepper is now running Stark Industries; who knows where S.H.I.E.L.D. are (dealing with the plot of Captain America 2, probably). Tony, meanwhile, is creating endless iterations of the Iron Man armour and suffering panic attacks from memories of when the suit failed him during the Battle of New York. For all his usual wisecracking, he’s a man who’s had his confidence undermined — and if there’s one thing Stark’s known for, it’s his self-confidence.

It’s not long before some events happen that push Stark, and his Iron Man alter ego (or is it an alter ego? But I’m getting ahead of myself), back into action. But those panic attacks remain, as does his overwhelming desire to protect his first stable relationship with Pepper. Here, then, is perhaps the film’s strongest element: the development of Tony Stark as a character. It’s not as if the first two films don’t have some degree of character development, but it wasn’t so fundamental. Tony starts Film 1 as a wisecracking show-off partying womanising arms manufacturer, and ends it as… a wisecracking show-off partying womanising superhero. Film 2 and even The Avengers don’t take him a great deal further, arguably, but here he’s pushed. He still behaves recklessly, because that’s what he’s used to doing, but then the consequences of that recklessness — when he has something he cares about — are brought home. Literally.

Despite outward appearances, the Iron Man movies have always been as much — or more — about the characters and the humour as they have been about action sequences. When you’ve got Robert Downey Jr being hilarious, you want to see more of that than a robot-like superhero punching things. With Shane Black on co-writing and directing duties here (a great choice that pays off), you want to see that as much as ever, and the film keeps it up. So while Stark struggles with the responsibilities of a relationship and with how he’s going to overcome his anxiety problems, he continues to be as snarky and fun to be around as ever. And the film continues to not feature that much in-suit action.

Indeed, for much of the film the suit is out of commission: after the all-out assault on the house you surely saw in the trailer and that I alluded to above, Tony is in hiding, relying more on his own wits and detective skills to piece together just what’s going on. I imagine some people found this to be slow and dull, wanting the punchy-punchy boomy-explodey stuff of every other action movie. But after the sheer scale of The Avengers, Marvel and co are right to find a different tack. You can’t out-do what The Avengers did, and if you try to it would become implausible as to why S.H.I.E.L.D. and the super-friends aren’t sticking their noses in, so instead we have a problem on a grand scale, yes, but one for Stark/Iron Man to tackle on his lonesome.

That said, for the sake of the trailer and the adrenaline junkies, it just means the film is rear-loaded with action scenes — three climax-worthy sequences back to back, in fact. It’s a bit of a shame they’re so closely placed, because while each is well-executed individually, they’re also almost immediately overshadowed by what follows. You don’t have time to digest the Air Force One skydiving rescue before it’s off to the oil-rig for the Big Battle. The film takes a break from action by establishing where some characters are and shuffling pieces, sure, but it’s so much set up for the next sequence there’s no time to catch your breath. For me it’s a minor issue, one that will surely be less apparent on future viewings.

And future viewings are merited, because despite all the things that could be ever so depressing, the film has even more to commend it as entertainment. There’s Tony’s relationship with the small-town kid who helps him, for instance, which is suitably irreverent (“dads leave, no need to be a pussy about it”); there’s grace notes like the reluctant henchman (I’m not quoting his one line, it shouldn’t be spoiled); there’s the ’70s action series-style end credits (they brought a huge smile to my face, anyway); and there’s the film’s treatment of the Mandarin…

Ah, the Mandarin. He’s Iron Man’s big bad; the guy fans have been asking about since before the first film. I don’t know much about him, but I believe in the comics he’s some kind of magician — doesn’t sit well with the film series’ more sci-fi leanings, even after we’ve seen Iron Man meet the likes of Thor. Here, the Mandarin is reconfigured as a terrorist; a very powerful one, spreading his message by taking over US airwaves… and blowing things up as well, naturally. But there’s a twist to him, which I won’t discuss here; beyond to say that, even though I saw it coming (helped, I admit, by everyone saying “there’s a twist to the Mandarin!”), I thought it was quite brilliantly done. Ben Kingsley is magnificent.

It’ll also surprise no one when Stark’s business rival, Aldrich Killian, turns out to be a villain too. Bit of a rehash of the second film there, maybe, but — even though I liked that film — Iron Man 3 handles it better. Sam Rockwell’s Justin Hammer was perhaps a more memorable character, but Guy Pearce’s Killian fits the plot and themes nicely, and is more of a force to be reckoned with overall. My only disappointment came near the end (slight spoilers for the rest of the paragraph), when it’s revealed in a small aside of a scene that he can breathe fire. Come the big all-action climax and… he doesn’t do it again. Is it a little silly he can breathe fire? Maybe. But it does kinda work with the rest of the things we’ve learnt, and I presume it was a conscious reference to another Iron Man enemy, the giant dragon Fin Fang Foom, who Killian has tattooed on his chest. Even without that tattoo, they’ve established he has a special power, so why doesn’t he use it in the final battle? Surely that’s what it’s made for? Personally, I’d’ve deleted the earlier reference if I wasn’t going to use it at the climax.

In the grand scheme of things, I still think that’s a minor complaint. Indeed, any issues I have with the film are minor complaints, including the slightly elongated first act and the Iron Man-less second one. I think it works for the style the film is aiming at — more of a military-ish spy-ish thriller than a bombastic beat-em-up superhero flick — and that works for me. And, not a complaint, but a minor point: the Actor’s Agent of the Week award goes to whoever represents Stephanie Szostak. I’ve never heard of her and her character’s only really in one sequence, but she’s billed right below the big-name lead cast and above henchman and 24 season three star James Badge Dale, amongst other recognisable names and faces. A Christmas bonus for that representative.

So, is Iron Man 3 the finest Iron Man film? Well, as ever, that’s a matter of perspective. I do think it completes the character’s personal arc, which has flown through not only the first two films but also The Avengers. I’m not the first to note the finalising tone of the film’s final minutes, and I believe the Bondian “Tony Stark will return” at the end is to reassure us he’ll be back in the Avengers sequel rather than imply we should look for an Iron Man 4. Despite marking out release dates through Summer 2017, Marvel have said they won’t be confirming any films of their 2016 or 2017 releases for at least another year. When the time comes, I don’t think an Iron Man sequel will be among them, keeping that particular big gun — and that particular big-name actor — for special occasions. I’m alright with that, because I think we’ve had three highly entertaining movies out of him, and even without an adaptation of the (in)famous Demon in a Bottle arc, I don’t think there’s much left to do with the character right now. Plus, ending the film with the latest twist on the first movie’s renowned closing declaration is a nice way to round off a series… at least until the inevitable recasting one day.

So back to my question: is it the best Iron Man film? Well, that’s a matter of… oh, wait. Anyway, I refuse to commit. But it might be. It might well be.

Iron Man 3 is out on DVD & Blu-ray in the UK today, and in the US on September 24th. Ha-ha.

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.

August 2013 + 5 Adaptations That Changed the Book’s Title

Posted on September 1, 2013 by badblokebob

August is over, meaning summer is too. If you’re the kind of person who hates it when the nights draw in and the days get colder… booyahsucks! You’ve just had a heatwave-lashed summer — it’s my turn now!

Ahem, anyway — let’s talk films:

What Do You Mean You Haven’t Seen…?

After failing last month, I kicked off August with a WDYMYHS film, in a concerted effort to catch up the two I’m behind. That film was Bicycle Thieves, once voted Sight & Sound’s greatest film of all time. Also one of just three foreign films on the list, for whatever that’s worth. Unfortunately, that was where my viewing wrapped up this month, meaning I’m still two behind. Must try harder.

I did post the first WDYMYHS-related review, however: January’s contribution to the challenge, City Lights.

All of August’s films

#63 Bicycle Thieves, aka Ladri di biciclette (1948)
#64 Immortals (2011)
#65 The Falcon and the Co-eds (1943)
#66 Sharknado (2013)
#67 Side by Side (2012)
#68 The Imposter (2012)
#69 Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunter (Extended Cut) (2013)
#70 Jack Reacher (2012)
#71 The Falcon Out West (1944)

Analysis

I always illustrate the above list with the poster(s) of my favourite film(s) from the month’s viewing (if you’ve not noticed that before, knock yourself out going over my old progress reports). This month, much to my surprise, it is indeed Jack Reacher. And you know what else was fun? Hansel & Gretel. It’s a month full of surprises!

Watching 100 films in a year means getting through 8⅓ of the things every month, so, with a total of 9, this August is practically a model student. It’s certainly a marked improvement on the meagre four I managed in both June and July. However, it’s the fourth month this year not to crack double figures, and is down on last August’s tally of 12. Those were all short Saint and Falcon films, though, so in running-time terms I’m probably tied.

Closing out the month at #71 makes this my weakest year-to-date since 2009. Back then I’d only made it to #44, so by comparison I’m flying. Although this means I’m behind a year that I failed to make it to 100 (last year, when August ended at #73), I’m also ahead of one where I did: 2008, when I’d only reached #59. The target for August is #66, so I’m five ahead really. Hope is most certainly not lost then, especially with a third of the year still to go. It’s not as if I don’t have plenty of DVDs, Blu-rays, recorded and downloaded films to watch. Plus I’m currently enjoying NOW TV’s 30-day free movies trial. Might write a dedicated post on that service sometime soon.

And as if that wasn’t enough choice…

Summer is over!

The nights are drawing in; the good telly’s starting up; the kids are off back to school this week — yes, the summer’s over. What’s on in cinemas is the other sign of this, of course; but as this is a film blog, that’s the point I was building to. I think the only major ‘summer blockbuster’-y movie left is Riddick, and as I won’t be seeing that I can officially confirm I’ve not been to the cinema once this season. That’s partly personal laziness/apathy; partly that whenever I begin to seriously consider making the effort, something conspires against it. Hey-ho.

The flip side is that, for me, the summer movie season is about to begin! That should help with the aforementioned final tally. Thanks to studios’ (wannabe-)piracy-beating speed when it comes to getting films onto disc these days, Star Trek Into Darkness should be with me tomorrow, and Iron Man 3 a week later. Even though Man of Steel is going to take until the start of December to get here, I hope my other summer most-want-to-sees (The Wolverine, Kick-Ass 2, etc) aren’t quite so tardy… but if they are, well, I’ll just wait, won’t I.

Pretty pictures

One final quick note before the top five bit: early in August I finally updated the header images on most of the blog’s main pages. I posted a post about it, but as I flagged it an “aside” it only went out to those who get emails. I thought I’d just mention them again, then, because I do rather like ’em. You can read a little more here.

5 Adaptations That Changed the Book’s Title

Inspired by the film adaptation of Lee Child’s One Shot morphing into Jack Reacher, I thought I’d do a quick run-down of five other notable or lesser-known movies that changed their source’s title. Why? Who can say…

Nothing Lasts Forever
In researching this list I was surprised to discover a few films I didn’t know were adaptations. That might be a good list for another time, though that list, and this one, could be almost entirely filled by a single franchise: Die Hard. While the first film is based on Nothing Lasts Forever, to one degree or another, the second takes its title and basic concept from 58 Minutes; the third was based on a spec script called Simon Says, which also nearly became Lethal Weapon 4; and the fourth on an article called A Farewell to Arms. Only the fifth seems to be inspiration-less — which is a pretty accurate description based on what I’ve heard…

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
As evocative as the title of Philip K. Dick’s novel is, someone clearly wanted something punchier, to the extent they purchased an entire screenplay just to get their hands on its title: Blade Runner. The second Dick adaptation also underwent a title change, from the equally unwieldy We Can Remember It For You Wholesale to the equally snappy Total Recall. More recent films (Minority Report, Paycheck, A Scanner Darkly, The Adjustment Bureau) have been more faithful… titularly, at least.

The Body
Just as prone to retitling as Dick is Stephen King. Oh sure, there’s Carrie and The Shining and, y’know, all the rest; but there are at least two notable exceptions, and the first is The Body, adapted as Stand By Me — altogether more wholesome, no? The story comes from King’s Different Seasons, a collection of four stories that has been ¾ adapted: the other two are Apt Pupil, filmed as Apt Pupil; and Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption, which underwent a less drastic title change. I can only presume the fourth story isn’t much cop.

The Midwich Cuckoos
Aww, a nice novel about some birds! What a pleasant motion picture that would make; no doubt in the vein of Springwatch, but fictional and cinematic. But no, dear reader, no! That’s not the style of the author of The Day of the Triffids, is it? And so to make sure you knew you were watching a sci-fi horror thingamie, the retitling bods gave us Village of the Damned. They’re damned! Damned! Etc. And in the ’90s, horror maestro John Carpenter did it again with a remake. Almost weirder than that, a quick look on Amazon suggests no tie-in edition of the novel with the new title, ever. Which I guess is a good thing.

I Am Legend
“But there is a film called I Am Legend,” I hear you cry. And so there is — now. But before 2007, Richard Matheson’s exceptional post-apocalyptic vampire/zombie novel was filmed twice: once in 1964 as The Last Man on Earth, and again in 1971 as The Omega Man. I guess that’s the snappy title brigade at work again. Presumably the Will Smith-starring version stuck to source to convey some kind of weight, while the film itself titted about with all kinds of over-CG’d action movie nonsense.

There are so many to choose from, I feel I could run this list again next month. I even have more than one option worthy of the closing “opposite” segment, which this month is (of course) a film that notably didn’t change its title…

Les Misérables

Les Misérables

adapted multiple times

Les Misérables

Google Translate won’t bother converting it

As I mentioned, there are copious examples of this kind of palaver I’ve left out. Please do share any personal favourites — or grievances — in the comments below. For instance, I’ve never seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory because I loved the book as a child and the retitling has always rubbed me up the wrong way.

Next month on 100 Films in a Year…

is September.

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 Pearl of Death (1944)

Posted on August 9, 2013 by badblokebob

2013 #15
Roy William Neill | 66 mins | DVD | 4:3 | USA / English | PG

The Pearl of Death is one of the better-regarded films of the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes canon, but somehow it didn’t quite click for me. That doesn’t meant there isn’t a lot to enjoy, however.

The story this time is adapted from Conan Doyle’s The Six Napoleons, and the main mystery seems to be pretty faithful. It’s a rather good one too, involving the hunt for a stolen item — the titular Borgia Pearl — that has been hidden in one of six china busts — the multiple Napoleons of Doyle’s title. It’s dressed up here with some nice touches: Holmes first rescues the priceless Borgia Pearl, but then quite spectacularly loses it. The notion of Holmes being doubted, of having to prove himself to reassert his reputation, is a good one — one recently borrowed by avowed Rathbone fans Moffat & Gatiss for their modern-day Sherlock, in fact. The film attempts to build up villain Giles Conover as a Moriarty-level nemesis, including borrowing some text from The Final Problem to describe him. Unfortunately, Miles Mander doesn’t quite convey the menace to pull it off, but Conover is a fair match for Holmes in places.

Elsewhere, Nigel Bruce gets to indulge in a slapsticky scene that, as ever, people who dislike this interpretation of Watson would be happy to do without. Also worth noting is the female lead, British actress Evelyn Ankers: she was a regular fixture of Universal’s horror features, terrorised in no less than The Wolf Man, The Ghost of Frankenstein, Son of Dracula, The Mad Ghoul, Captive Wild Woman, Jungle Woman, Weird Woman, The Invisible Man’s Revenge, and The Frozen Ghost! (Plus a previous Holmes film, Voice of Terror, to boot.)

The series’ regular director, Roy William Neill, manages his usual atmospheric and exciting touch in places, but others are a slight let down — both involving characters kept in shadow and their eventual reveal. The opening sequence features a disguised Holmes; supposedly disguised to the audience too, though I imagine many will guess it’s him. He’s mostly kept in shadow, on the edge of frame, or with his back to the camera — it’s quite effective, in fact. Sadly, there’s no commensurate whip-the-disguise-off reveal.

Later in the film, the monstrous Hoxton Creeper is shown in silhouette most of the time, with everyone talking about how disgusting ‘it’ is. Unfortunately, when it comes to finally revealing his hideous visage in the final moments… he just sort of turns around to listen to a moderately interesting conversation. Considering all the points when the Creeper could have been revealed to good effect, Neill somehow managed to pick one of the least dramatic. Neither of these reveal fudges are ruinous, of course, and are outweighed by the handling of sequences like Holmes setting off the museum’s alarm, the ensuing robbery, the villains stalking round a potential victim’s house, and so on. Still, I was surprised to find them so wanting.

The Pearl of Death won’t find a place amongst my very favourites of the Rathbone Holmes series, but I feel I may have, for some reason, been expecting too much from it. Only niggles and incidental points let it down, rather than anything fundamental, and a future reappraisal may one day bump it up in my estimation. Nonetheless:

Akira (1988)

Posted on August 5, 2013 by badblokebob

For many Westerners of a certain generation, Akira was their first (conscious) exposure to anime. Not so me: a step or two down, Ghost in the Shell was my first (ignoring the odd glimpse of Pokémon or what have you) — it was one of my earliest DVD acquisitions, before we even had a DVD player, when I had to watch discs on my computer, where GitS’s menu just showed up as a black screen and I had to click around randomly to find ‘play’. Ah, memories.

Anyway, I came to Akira slightly later, and I confess I didn’t much care for it. I thought it looked great, especially the bike chases, but I lost track of the plot pretty quickly and found the ending a bit much — a bit too bizarre and kinda sickening. So I haven’t revisited the film for something like a decade, but always felt I should. I bought Manga’s Blu-ray release a few years ago, but it was the mention of this year being the film’s 25th anniversary that led me to finally pop it in.

Firstly, I watched it in Japanese this time, which is why it qualifies for coverage here (not that I need a reason to review a re-view these days, but that’s a different point of order). I had a quick listen to the English dub before viewing and it sounds a bit clunky with typically poor voice performances, so I went with the subbed version, where it’s pretty impossible to tell whether the acting’s any good or not (or at least, I always find it so. I go back and forth whether to watch anime dubbed or subbed, but that’s a discussion for another time). Having to read subtitles all the time does intrude on appreciating the visuals at points, but it’s workable.

The visuals remain something to be savoured; they’re probably the film’s strongest point, in my opinion. Akira was an expensive production and it pays off on screen. It’s not just the bike chases that I appreciated either, while an extra decade of experience made the ending a bit less freakish! The other strong point is the audio. The BD’s booklet goes on about “hypersonic” sound. I’ve no idea if that worked on my system, but it sounded fantastic regardless.

I don’t think the plot was as hard to follow as I previously felt (possibly thanks to an idea about where it was going), though the exact happenings at the climax are still unclear.

I liked Akira a good deal more this time round. Theoretically the only differences were HD, which is pretty but doesn’t fundamentally alter one’s opinion of a film’s content, and the Japanese soundtrack, which wasn’t my problem in the first place. The other big change, of course, is not in the film but in me — perhaps I’m just better positioned to appreciate it now. It’s not at the point where I’d number it among my personal favourites, but I now see some of what others get out of it.

The Harry Potter Films of David Yates

Posted on June 14, 2013 by badblokebob

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But hey-ho, it is what it is.

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

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

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

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