The Lady from Shanghai (1947)

2009 #37
Orson Welles | 84 mins | TV | PG

The Lady from ShanghaiThe Lady from Shanghai is an Orson Welles film… which means his original 155-minute cut was forcibly cut down by over an hour, the studio insisted he include more beauty shots of Rita Hayworth, as well as a song for her to sing, and the temp score he provided to the composer was ignored in favour of something Welles hated. Yet for all that — not to mention Welles’ distractingly atrocious Irish accent — it’s still a highly enjoyable film.

The plot is thoroughly noirish and offers up its fair share of twists along the way, while the performances are able if largely not particularly memorable. The exception to this is Glenn Anders, giving a gloriously unhinged performance as Grisby, drawling his vowels with high-pitched lunacy. Though Welles was heavily criticised for cutting and dying Hayworth’s hair — to the extent that some blamed it for the film’s box office failure — it hardly matters (I thought she looked better anyway), and the enforced beauty shots actually work thematically toward the conclusion.

Even more attractive are the skills Welles brings directorially, on display throughout. Every key sequence provides something genuinely worth looking at while still relating the intricate plot, though the cruise offers many of the best bits — the hot, sweaty foreign climes are conveyed brilliantly, aided by sumptuous location photography, and these sunny scenes contrast nicely with the noir plot. Mention must also be made of the the famous finale in the Hall of Mirrors, a precisely shot sequence that provides a fitting close. Elsewhere, Welles’ sense of humour is pleasingly present, lending the trial scenes in particular a distinctive style that brings some ever-welcome variety.

Brisk (at under an hour-and-a-half) but engagingly complex, and rarely less than beautifully shot, The Lady from Shanghai may be a compromised version of Welles’ intentions, but his undeniable ability (at directing, not accents) means it remains a compelling film noir.

4 out of 5

The Lady from Shanghai is showing on BBC Four at 10pm on Saturday 22nd August as part of a Film Noir Weekend. See this post at From the Cheap Seats for more details.

Stand By Me (1986)

2009 #29
Rob Reiner | 89 mins | download | 15 / R

Stand By MeStand By Me is a film an awful lot of people love an awful lot, which it always seemed to me was down to first seeing it at the right age (more or less the age of the main characters, I think) and possibly to being part of a certain generation — would it have the same effect for kids today, when the relative innocence and freedom of the ’50s is arguably lost? As I say, “seemed”, because now I’m not sure either of these factors really matter.

Irrespective of age, generation, or being able to remember the kinds of experiences suggested by the film, Stand By Me is still an effective and affecting little film. The level of enjoyment for some may depend on how much they can stomach child actors, though as kids go they’re mostly very good. River Phoenix in particular is brilliant, highly natural while bringing a lot of depth to perhaps the most important role. Wil Wheaton also makes a good account of himself, just one year before attracting derision as Wesley Crusher in Star Trek: The Next Generation. (Phoenix, of course, went on to have a tragically short-lived career.) Kiefer Sutherland is as effective a villain as he ever would be, though that aspect of the plot is almost an aside.

An aside, because the film isn’t about the fights between the young heroes and a group of older bullies. Rather, it’s a paean for childhood, with the adult perspective and the ‘lost age’ setting of the ’50s succinctly highlighting the nostalgic spirit. To be precise, it’s not so much reflecting on “childhood” as on “growing up” — the choices that are open when young that either disappear with time or, for whatever reason, become closed off. The whole film is arguably about choice: choice of friends, choice of social class, Ace’s constant listing of choices (the subtext breaking into the text, as many a film teacher would point out), even the obvious choice whether to follow the tracks or take shortcuts (surely symbolic). Thematically, it’s the choice to be put down or stand up for yourself; the choice to stick around and wind up a nobody or work hard and get out, also underlined in the present-day bookends.

Perhaps being the right age is helpful to a love for Stand By Me, but at any stage in life it’s easy to relate to its depiction of the experiences and choices of childhood, be they now lost, taken, or never even had.

4 out of 5

Stand By Me is on Channel 5 today, Sunday 12th October 2014, at 2pm.

The Man in the Iron Mask (1998)

2009 #30
Randall Wallace | 132 mins | download | 12 / PG-13

The Man in the Iron MaskFrom the off it’s clear that The Man in the Iron Mask is not going to go well. It’s an adaptation of a tale of the Three Musketeers, so naturally is set in historical Paris… where everyone has a different accent and very few of them are French. It is, to be blunt, a horrid mishmash — much like the whole film.

Wordy political intrigue tries to coexist with broad comedy which is squashed against swashbuckling adventure. The latter two could co-exist, but the film feels like it wants to be the former and so suffers for it. The comedy jars too much to be effective, while instances of unintentional comedy unfortunately provoke more frequent laughs. It should at least be able to swash buckles effectively — these are the Three Musketeers after all — but entirely fails to achieve this until the climax. The plot, semi-faithfully adapted from one of Alexandre Dumas’ original novels, offers a level of complexity to which the film clearly aspires, but the adaptation and acting struggle to match it.

The majority of performances are marred by overacting — John Malkovich, especially, is woefully miscast, while Leonardo DiCaprio doesn’t appear to give a particularly good performance as either Louis or Philippe. In DiCaprio’s defence I suspect this is actually the script’s fault, because he manages to clearly differentiate the two when they are silent or pretending to be the other — it’s when they open their mouths that it all goes wrong. Gérard Depardieu is fine as the comic relief, though that relief is tonally misplaced, while Gabriel Byrne makes an interesting d’Artagnan — there’s nothing at all wrong with him, and yet he doesn’t feel quite right. Which leaves just Jeremy Irons among the main cast. He fares the best of the lot, even getting the occasional scene or speech that is genuinely quite good, though it’s clear he is far better than the material. To be fair, the same is also true of everyone else.

For all this, The Man in the Iron Mask is more disappointing then bad. The Bastille-set climax is occasionally brilliant and never less than entertaining, delivering on the film’s swashbuckling promise in a copious fashion. Throughout, there’s the occasional good scene — or even just a decent line of dialogue — and you can briefly understand what inspired such quality actors to sign on.

Something went wrong somewhere though, and the obvious culprit must be writer/director Randall Wallace. The story’s good, but that’s Dumas’, while the adaptation’s weak — and that’s Wallace’s. The actor’s are good, but battle the poor script — and that, obviously, is Wallace’s. They don’t seem to have been given any significant direction, they’re not helped by an uneven tone, and even the cinematography falls short, failing to make the spectacular locations and costumes look suitably beautiful on screen — and we know who’s ultimately in charge of all that too.

The Man in the Iron Mask desperately wants to be better than it is — it’s a great tale, packed with politics and swashbuckling, and this particular version has the high calibre cast to pull it off. But both are left floundering by a writer/director who isn’t up to either task — poor dialogue, a gyratingly uneven tone and lacklustre direction abound. A missed opportunity, and all the more disappointing for it.

2 out of 5

Glory (1989)

2009 #28
Edward Zwick | 117 mins | DVD | 15 / R

GloryEd Zwick seems to like war. More accurately, Zwick likes making films about war, but clearly isn’t a fan of the act itself. Since gaining attention with multi Oscar-winner Glory, about the first black regiment during the American Civil War, he’s directed a number of films concerned with wars and those that fight them: Courage Under Fire (“Army officer investigates female chopper commander’s worthiness for the Medal of Honor”), The Siege (“a wave of terrorist attacks in New York lead to the declaration of martial law”), The Last Samurai (“American military advisor embraces the Samurai culture he was hired to destroy”), Blood Diamond (a group of people battle for a diamond during the war in Sierra Leone), and most recently Defiance (“Jewish brothers in Nazi-occupied Eastern Europe escape into the forests”). Whatever the reasons for Zwick’s preoccupation, he certainly has a talent for it.

In Glory, Zwick is helped by a story that’s definitely worth telling, one which I imagine seemed even more pertinent on its original release, when Nelson Mandela was still in prison and the state of race relations in the US would contribute to riots in Los Angeles inside of 18 months. Still, it would be easy to slide into Issue of the Week melodrama in handling such a tale, but Zwick manages it without undue sentiment — there’s an appropriate realisation of the importance of events, perhaps even occasional reverence, but time is taken to show doubts and prejudices. It may get too sentimental for some tastes toward the end, but considering the importance of the story I don’t think it’s unwarranted or overplayed.

Similarly, most of the hero characters are less than perfect, with Matthew Broderick’s Colonel of particular note as a conflicted and initially cowardly commanding officer, more concerned with propriety than what is right — until he’s led to a change of heart, of course. His is just one of several excellent performances: Morgan Freeman does what Morgan Freeman does best as the Authoritative Elder, while Denzel Washington’s angry young man justifiably earnt him his first Oscar. The wider supporting cast hold their own against these leads, particularly Andre Braugher as the idealistic but ultimately unsuited volunteer Thomas Searles.

The handful of battle sequences are effectively staged, suitably tense and brutal, though these are really ancillary — the regiment only engaged in conflict a couple of times and so, appropriately, actual fighting makes up a relatively slender portion of the film. The unfamiliarity of the story helps keep things tense both in and out of battle — for obvious reasons, the majority of battles depicted on film are famous ones, often because of their outcome, so it makes for an agreeable change to not know where events will lead.

These elements all blend to create a film that is, at the very least, the sum of its parts: a significant historical story with strong performances and a convincing depiction of war, which negotiates the thin lines that surround sentiment and reverence. Zwick may not be a fan of war, but he certainly knows how to put its stories on film.

5 out of 5

Solaris (2002)

2009 #13
Steven Soderbergh | 94 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

SolarisWhen Andrei Tarkovsky adapted Stanislaw Lem’s thoughtful science fiction novel in 1972, it took 165 minutes. When Steven Soderbergh did it 30 years later, it took just over 90. Lem hated them both, stating that he didn’t write about people’s “erotic problems in space”, but for those concerned with what the film is about rather than what it (perhaps) should have been about, it seems that an abbreviated running time is no barrier to loading any adaptation of Solaris with a weighty thoughtfulness.

Everyone knows Solaris is a sci-fi film — the title sounds that way, for one thing, and George Clooney in a space helmet on the cover certainly does the rest. It’s a shame that’s so well known, because if one came to this version cold it would take a good few minutes before there was any inkling it wasn’t just a drama. The underplaying of the scientific elements may have angered Lem, but Soderbergh uses them to create a backdrop to the emotional story he wants to tell — Solaris the sentient planet was the point of the novel, as far as Lem was concerned, whereas to Soderbergh it’s a device to explore relationships and grief.

In doing this the film merrily mixes genres: it looks very much like it’s Science Fiction, all futuristic TVs and space station settings, and there are a few scientific concepts touched on; but it’s also a Romance, occasionally; and a Drama about coping with death, amongst other things; and an ‘arthouse’ film about notions of God and memory and reality and humanity; and there’s a huge chunk of Mystery in what the hell is going on; and there are a couple of moments that wouldn’t be out of place in a Horror film… About the only conventions Soderbergh doesn’t bother with belong to Action-Adventure, which as the normal stomping ground of big-name sci-fi certainly makes for a change.

It’s likely this that explains its low rating on IMDb and the like. A slow pace and obtuse storytelling that leaves plenty of gaps for the audience to fill is not the experience implied by an advertising campaign showing a Space Movie starring Movie Star Heartthrob George Clooney. Obviously it doesn’t fulfill these expectations, and will likely have still been too slow and difficult for even more viewers. (As it makes for a slow hour-and-a-half, I wonder how they would feel if told there’s a version over an hour longer.) The question is, does it also deserve such a low rating from those ‘clever’ or accepting enough to ‘get’ it? That depends on your perspective. It’s either Deep and Meaningful, or a bit Pretentious and Pointless. In this respect it’s highly reminiscent of The Fountain (or, rather, The Fountain is reminiscent of Solaris) — an unusual sci-fi/romance angle, slow pace, and ambiguous to the last. As one character says, “there are no answers, only choices.”

Soderbergh’s direction, plus the performances of Clooney and Natasha McElhone on which the film relies, do have the power to hold you, but only if you’re prepared for — and, more importantly, open to — the sort of experience Solaris offers. Undoubtedly not for everyone.

4 out of 5

Watchmen (2009)

2009 #9
Zack Snyder | 162 mins | cinema | 18 / R

This review contains major spoilers.

Watchmen didn’t flop. Let’s get that out of the way.

Did it do less business than expected? Yes. Were expectations unreasonably high? Unquestionably. After the barnstorming success of The Dark Knight I think some expected a repeat run, but they forgot that while TDK was dark, it still had clear heroes, clear villains, a massively popular franchise and — let’s be honest — a highly-publicised, highly-acclaimed final performance from a certain tragic young actor. Watchmen, by comparison, is densely plotted, morally ambiguous, a tad on the long side, with unknown characters, an unclear story (in the marketing at least) and no mass recognition. And it was rated R. All this considered, it did phenomenally well, and at the end of the day it’s WB’s fault for spending $150m on something that, realistically speaking, wasn’t going to make that back on opening weekend.

But this isn’t meant to be a rant about the box office. Now that the dust has settled somewhat from the initial flurry of reviews — which on the whole seemed to either hail it as an instant classic or an unrelenting mess (though some more reasonable ones found the middle ground) — and with the dubiously-featured UK DVD and Blu-ray releases just announced, it seems about time to add a few of my thoughts to the already-overflowing mix. In doing this I find it impossible to fully divorce myself from the fact that I’m a fan of the book, so can only really view this adaptation from that perspective; just as I think anyone who’s read the book can’t truly imagine quite how a non-reader will take this, whatever they may claim. The only people who can do that are people who haven’t read the book, and there have been plenty of those reviews around too.

But even as a fan, my opinions are not as predetermined as some might think. Watchmen is incredibly faithful to its source material (some notable tweaks and omissions aside), but while some have loved it for this, others have viewed it as weak or pointless. Perhaps some of the complaints about faithfulness stem from the fact that we’re actually unused to seeing faithful superhero adaptations — “adaptations” being the operative word. Across seven Batmans, five Supermans, four X-Mens, three Spider-Mans, two Hulks, and countless others, how many actually adapt a specific book? Most, if not all, develop their own story around the notion of the character(s), or take some degree of inspiration from various storylines, tailoring a new tale for the different medium (well, theoretically). In choosing to adapt the source rather than make a film starring the same characters, Watchmen places itself more in line with other literary adaptations than other superhero movies. Some would argue this context still renders it more of a Da Vinci Code than a Godfather, but it’s perhaps still appropriate to debate that rather than if it’s more a Hulk than a Dark Knight.

The consistent faithfulness is a bit of a mixed bag. For much of the film it’s a great story well re-told, and its climax actually manages to improve on the original’s to the extent that, if Alan Moore ever actually watched it (which he won’t), I’d like to think he’d be man enough to admit that this one change at least was an improvement. Similarly, in the novel I wasn’t convinced Rorschach’s final moments made sense — it seemed out of character. On screen, however, Jackie Earle Haley completely sells it, his final scream becoming one of the film’s most memorable moments. Other elements are retained with no thought, however: the intercutting of Dan and Laurie’s alley fight with Dr Manhattan’s press conference is an effective (if blunt) sequence in the novel, but on screen makes little sense — even though I know the story and know the events of both scenes, this choice left me struggling to follow events. Even worse, the sudden and unexplained presence of Ozymandias’ pet big cat is almost baffling to a viewer familiar with the source, and so I can only imagine how little sense Bubastis must make to a new viewer. Consequently, his demise has no emotional weight.

The final scene is a bit of a misstep as well. In the book it’s a perfect little coda, beautifully ambiguous and tied to several of the novel’s themes. On screen, Snyder overplays it, allowing it to drag on with pointless dialogue and leaving the point of the scene feeling forced — equally a fault of David Hayter and Alex Tse’s script, then. Part of the problem is that it’s lumbered with introducing a subplot and its characters for the sake of the payoff, both of which develop slowly and appropriately in the novel. The details of that particular subplot are not the only elements that are missed from the original: the novel contains a lot of details of street life in Manhattan, for example, which makes the city’s ultimate destruction more personal for the reader. Some of these scenes have been filmed and, knowing that an aptly-titled (for once) Director’s Cut is on the way, it’s at times hard not to view the theatrically-released Watchmen as an abridged version. While it is still more complex than some critics (both pro and fan) give it credit for, the missing nuances and subplots would strengthen the whole experience. We can but hope it’s these that the Director’s Cut will include, rather than just a collection of completist-pleasing trims.

It’s easy to complain about Watchmen — clearly — but, actually, I really enjoyed it. Snyder has arguably created a live-action version of the graphic novel rather than creating a film in its own right, but is that really a bad thing? It’s what many literary adaptations aspire to, the only difference here is there were already some pictures to directly transfer. Some will disagree, and if you do then this is a perfect argument for why Non-Fans should be in charge of film adaptions — Fans are too concerned with pleasing other Fans, in this case being rigorously faithful; Non-Fans often just want to make the best movie possible based on the source material, rather than making the best translation (or, perhaps, re-appropriation). Perhaps it’s too fine a line to walk; perhaps Snyder was too afraid to change anything; or perhaps it’s just a case of damned if you do (“it’s exactly the same, what’s the point?”) and damned if you don’t (“he changed too much, it’s not Watchmen!”).

In their faithfulness, Snyder, Hayter and Tse retain much of the story and character elements that made the original great. If the aim was to take the page and put it on screen, the screenplay is near flawless, embellishing some moments and even fixing others, while excising subplots so wisely I didn’t miss much. As stated, however, the definitive cut is surely the forthcoming one. As for Snyder’s direction, he mostly does a good job, recreating iconic panels — occasionally with too much reverence, true — but enlivening other sequences in his own way. In fact, for all the moans of reverence, some of the novel’s more filmic ‘cuts’ are actually abandoned (I’m thinking specifically of the ins & outs of flashbacks during the Comedian’s funeral). Photography wise, most of the film was far too dark, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been shot too much with DVD/Blu-ray in mind and suffered when projected. I suppose we’ll see later…

Snyder certainly left a clear directorial stamp on one element of the film: occasionally the action sequences smash into slowmo, sometimes to the point of freeze frame… exactly like they did for most of 300’s fights. Whereas there it looked kinda cool and felt like a stylistic tick unique to that film, here one can’t help but think time is being wasted that would be better spent on expanding the dense plot. And rather than being a stylstic quirk of 300, it now becomes one of Snyder’s; which means that, from the very first scene, “A Zack Snyder Film” is stamped all over this like a young boy with an abundance of name stickers. There’s nothing wrong with making it his own film, of course — I’m sure Gilliam’s or Greengrass’ versions would’ve slotted comfortably into their distinctive oeuvres — but it would be nice if it weren’t quite so intrusive. On the other hand, could it be that the expectation of this makes it seem worse than it is, and if any other director had pulled the same tricks it wouldn’t seem as apparent?

Similarly, the violence is incredibly brutal, gory and graphic — but that’s the point. Though they live in a heavily stylised world, these are ‘real’ superheroes, and real violence isn’t pretty. The level of brutality is appropriate to the theme but never lingered on more than is reasonable and rarely over-done. Those who aligned it with ‘torture porn’ flicks like Hostel in their criticism of the film were missing the point.

The film’s soundtrack has also come in for criticism in some quarters, where certain tracks have been accused of being entirely out of place and others have been suggested as replacements. However, the tracks lambasted and others put forth suggest that these particular critics (usually amongst fandom) have a rather narrow taste in music, with the suggestions often too obscure to suit. In fact, Watchmen’s soundtrack provides a nice variety of contemporary songs, spanning styles in order to quickly define an era rather than to evoke what a specific genre was doing at the time — so a 1970s riot is accompanied by disco, for example, rather than a niche rock track. It makes absolute sense from a filmmaking standpoint and, for those of us with broader tastes, is perfectly pleasant. Elsewhere, the choice of music references both the original text — Rorschach and Nite Owl’s arrival in Antarctica is set to Jimi Hendrix’s All Along the Watchtower (while the novel quotes Bob Dylan, here its use as an action cue means Hendrix fits better) — and other films — the Vietnam sequence is knowingly set to Ride of the Valkyries. There are some missteps — the use of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah over the sex scene is presumably meant to create a moment of euphoric triumph, but is instead laughably cheesy — but, most of the time, it’s a success.

The other major addition from the graphic novel is, of course, a cast. As already noted, Jackie Earle Haley is incredible in the default-lead role of Rorschach. He may’ve nicked Christian Bale’s Batman voice, but it’s much more suited here. Patrick Wilson’s Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl II is also great, showing the benefit of hiring proper actors rather than stars. Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Matthew Goode hold their own in potentially challenging roles. Some didn’t — and don’t — think Goode was right for Adrian Veidt, but I preferred his portrayal so much that the more butch-looking Ozymandias of the novel now seems wrong to me. The female leads suffer more. Malin Akerman is about passable, but Carla Gugino is quite possibly miscast. It’s a tricky part to get right, having to be both young and sexy in the flashbacks but an old woman in the story’s present day, and so it may be more the fault of some poor old-age makeup than Gugino’s.

That’s not to mention Billy Crudup, who has the double challenge of playing a man who has become God-like, and of giving this performance underneath a big pile of CGI. And with a CG penis on show too. Personally I didn’t find the CG manhood as distracting as many others seem to have, and Crudup’s actual performance is captivating — there’s a thin line between aloof otherworldliness and reading dialogue aloud in a monotone, but Crudup managed to fall on the right side of it.

Surprisingly, I’ve made it through almost 2,000 words without mentioning the title sequence. There’s no need to describe it any more, it is simply brilliant. More dioramas were shot than made it into the final cut, so I can’t help but hope they’ll be reinstated in later versions.

In summary (if this ramble around Watchmen can be summarised), Zack Snyder’s Watchmen Film is not “the big screen equivalent of Alan Moore’s Watchmen” — that would be a movie, likely very different to the graphic novel, that examined and deconstructed representations of superheroes in cinema and television. Instead, Zack Snyder’s Watchmen Film is “Alan Moore’s Watchmen on the big screen”, a blisteringly faithful adaptation of the source. Crucially, however, it is not (always) blindly faithful — the ending being a case in point — but some will still ponder its relevance. Judged as an artistic work in its own right, then, it perhaps comes up lacking. Judged in comparison to other faithful adaptations of great literature, however, it’s arguably as good as many others. At the very least, it’s exposed a wider audience to the characters, themes and debates of the original, and, whether they like it or not, that can only be a good thing.

In closing, I’m reminded of a comment made by Danny Boyle when discussing his favourite film ever made: “it’s imperfect; which every film should be.”

5 out of 5

My review of Snyder’s preferred Director’s Cut can now be read here.

That version placed 3rd on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2009, which can be read in full here.

Flash Gordon (1980)

2009 #27a
Mike Hodges | 107 mins | DVD | PG / PG

Flash GordonI hadn’t been intending to review Flash Gordon — it’s not as if I don’t have enough new films to review — but though I have seen it before it was a long time ago and I was very young, so watching it again now I wasn’t quite prepared for just how good it is.

Flash often seems to be dismissed as an unintentionally campy load of nonsense, perhaps with some ironic appeal. What this assessment misses is how knowing it is. Yes, it’s ridiculously camp, the dialogue is cheesy, the performances equally so, and it’s brighter and more colourful than any under-5s TV show ever produced. But it knows it is, and because it does it with nary a nod nor a wink I think that passes some viewers by.

The sheer volume of things there are to love in this film makes them hard to list without watching it and pointing them out as they appear, but I’m sure I can manage a few. For one, there’s the design work — the sets, the costumes, the spaceships — all huge, vibrant, retro and often ridiculous, and all wonderful for it. The special effects are truly special, creating skies full of swirling rainbow colours, rainbow clouds for the spaceships to float through, platforms that tilt over a rainbow vortex… Do some of them look primitive? Well, a bit — but they have more charm than CGI ever will, and they don’t get in the way either.

The plot is ludicrous, built from B-movie elements and predicated on cliffhangers — which is exactly as it should be. The dialogue is packed with quotable lines, many so patently ridiculous that it can only have been deliberate. There’s not a single bad performance — everyone’s either in on the joke or playing the straight man to it. Of particular note are Max von Sydow’s properly villainous villain (who, to be quite honest, still has more depth than too many nemeses we see today); Peter Wyngarde as his scheming right-hand-man, granted a fantastic death; Mariangela Melato as his right-hand-woman, granted some of the very best ‘bad’ lines; Topol as a somewhat loopy Dr Zarkov; and, of course, Brian Blessed — no more need be said.

The fights and assorted other action scenes are exciting, frequently epic, and tinged — like so much of the film — with a perfectly judged level of humour. Arguably the best is a harem-set tussle between between Dale Arden and Princess Aura, watched by sniggering servants as they wrestle on a giant bed. It’s beyond knowingly handled by Hodges, the brief cutaways to the servants indicating the deliberate commentary on such voyeuristic lesbian-lite wrestling matches in other films.

Then there’s the score by Queen. As with Brian Blessed, what more needs to be said? (Incidentally, I got a big laugh when Blessed screams, “who wants to live forever anyway?”, forgetting that Highlander was still six years off when this was made.)

So, in all that, what’s wrong with Flash Gordon? When I noticed how much I was enjoying it — about five minutes in — I began keeping my eyes open for flaws, any niggling thing that detracted from the experience Hodges created. I couldn’t find a single thing. Not one.

Which means I can now become known far and wide as the blog that only awarded Star Wars four stars, but gave Flash Gordon a perfect

5 out of 5

Marnie (1964)

2009 #6
Alfred Hitchcock | 125 mins | DVD | 15 / PG

MarnieMarnie is a film grounded in the field of psychoanalysis, though that word is never used and none of the characters are a therapist. Instead, it just concerns itself with a main character suffering under the strain of repressed childhood memories, though this isn’t revealed until the end. Unfortunately, psychoanalysis was only an emerging area at the time of production, and the price Marnie pays for being ahead of the pack in the mid ’60s is that it looks dated and inaccurate now.

For one thing, it’s slow paced. Not necessarily a bad thing, and here it does serve to gradually build some elements, but at times you wonder where it’s all going. Part of the problem is that much of the story’s first half is just a distraction from the main point, in which case I suppose it’s Hitchcock’s famous MacGuffin; but the changes between elements of crime, romance, family drama and internal struggle come across not as a measured part of a considered whole, but as a mishmash of genres. One might consider this a good thing, adding variety and complexity to the film, but as it merrily switches back and fore it doesn’t seem to fulfill any genre to its full potential.

That isn’t to say Marnie is meritless. Plot-wise, the central mystery does get more intriguing as it goes on and the whole film gets better with it. It’s not just that it becomes a more interesting story, but almost every scene is more engaging, better written, acted and directed. Also, without a single frame of grinding, moaning, kicking or screaming, it contains one of the most sinister (suggested) sex scenes in the movies, thanks to the combined skills of Hitchcock and his two stars.

In the title role, a lot is asked of Tippi Hedren — a lot more than she had to manage in The Birds the year before — but she rises to the occasion, most of the time. It’s through no fault of hers that Marnie’s aversion to red is overplayed, especially as it’s the picture constantly fading through red that almost pushes it to the point of amusement. This is again a problem of being one of the first to try to film an entirely internal struggle. In the other lead role is Sean Connery, just two years after he created James Bond on screen, and here he plays a smooth playboy-esque character with a fondness for women and a tendency to violent outbursts. Not straying too far afield then, but he fits the role like a glove.

In this DVD age, I’d also like to point out that the film’s trailer is truly fantastic. Narrated by Hitchcock, he merrily takes the mick out of his own movie for several minutes. It’s a slice of joyous irreverence that makes you wish he’d brought some of it to the actual film, and wonder what would happen if a film was advertised with such a tonally incongruous trail today.

Trailer aside, Marnie is sub-par Hitchcock, but even then his considerable skill coaxes it to greater heights than many — perhaps any — other director could have achieved with the basic material.

3 out of 5

Angels & Demons (2009)

2009 #25
Ron Howard | 138 mins | cinema | 12A / PG-13

This review contains minor spoilers.

Three years ago, I found myself at a packed midnight first-screening of The Da Vinci Code, the Tom Hanks-starring Ron Howard-directed adaptation of the Dan Brown-written novel that’s probably only second-most-read to The Bible by now. I liked the book — its prose is a long way from great, that’s true, but the storytelling is fantastic, helped in no small part by its undermining of the Christian church so thoroughly and consistently that it can only be described as wish fulfillment (well, it fulfilled my wishes). I liked the film too — again, it’s not great, but it was an entertaining adaptation.

Despite this, I’ve never read another Dan Brown book. Not even Angels & Demons, which also stars Robert Langdon (that’s Hanks’ character, in case you’ve somehow missed this entire phenomenon) but was written first. Rather than being yet another prequel, however, Howard and co. have chosen to make it as a sequel — entirely logical in the past, though these days it almost makes them seem behind trend. In spite of my unfamiliarity with the source, I once again found myself at the film’s first screening here — though it says something about how well The Da Vinci Code was received (i.e. not very) that Angels & Demons made its bow on a damp Thursday afternoon in a barely-attended screening.

It may come as a surprise that Angels & Demons has a subtly different feel to its predecessor. It still concerns itself with Hanks’ Langdon dashing about trying to solve insanely cryptic clues in a limited timeframe, surrounded by irritating policeman, suspicious friendly characters, and a girl who is almost pointless. However, it’s a lot less talky — there are few grand theories to be explained, and while there are still a few exposition-dense monologues they aren’t the focus in the same way. Instead, with just an hour to solve each set of puzzles, our intrepid symbologist hares around Rome, desperately trying to save lives. Unfortunately, the trail he’s following doesn’t seem as well thought out as the previous tale’s mysteries, and the speed at which they must be solved seems designed to gloss over this — there’s no time for the viewer to consider everything Langdon’s telling us, we just have to accept it.

If that wasn’t enough, the film comes with a moderately hefty sci-fi element — yes, really — which makes a huge change tonally. While The Da Vinci Code is patently not based in much truth, both Brown’s novel and the adaptation mixed in enough facts, half-truths and very plausible lies to give it a real-world believability. The abundance of tie-in books and documentaries proving or disproving its theories show that people bought it. There’ll be no such thing here though: from the beginning the use of CERN and the Large Hadron Collider (y’know, the thing that’s going to end the world) and a theoretical bomb adds a science fiction feel, and while it’s really no more than “a very big bomb” for most of the film the damage is already done. To cap it off, the CGI-decked finale — which is further bogged down with feats of logic and physics that require at least a little suspension of disbelief — brings the film more in line with science fiction blockbusters than thriller blockbusters.

All this does nothing for the central villains either. When judged independently, the Illuminati are actually more believable than the Priory of Sion — they’re certainly more based in fact — but they come across as less so because no one’s bothered to construct that web of facts required to sell the half-truths, and in turn to sell the lies. Nonetheless, the film does a good job of hiding the Secret Villain’s identity. Well, sort of. Those not paying any attention may guess it relatively early and turn out to be right; those following it only slightly more closely may be lured astray by a couple of clear red herrings; while those indulging in an intelligent game of guess-the-twist will flip around a bit more as various characters show slight ambitions or potential motivations that suggest they may be the subject of a Shocking Twist. That it eventually comes back round to where you always thought it would is not necessarily a bad thing, but neither is it as surprising as the makers wished we thought.

Howard does his best to ring tension and excitement out of all this, but the problem is fundamentally the screenplay — as with The Da Vinci Code, adapted by an overpaid Akiva Goldsman, this time with David Koepp credited too. Of course, they’re lumbered with Brown’s novel, but that doesn’t excuse some truly clunking dialogue. It’s also their fault that the cast are so underused. Ayelet Zurer has perhaps the most thankless part as Token Female with minimal relation to the plot, though one of the screenplay’s wisest decisions is in modifying her backstory — based on summaries I’ve read, in the novel it’s near identical to that of Sophie’s from Da Vinci Code. (That’s Audrey Tautou’s character. Yes, I’d forgotten her name too.)

Despite being the lead, Tom Hanks has little more to do than look concerned and explain the reasons for all the running around. On the positive side, as silly hairstyles are only allowed if you’re Australian this Summer, at least Langdon’s ludicrous lengthy locks have been lopped off. Few among the rest of the cast fare any better, with Stellan Skarsgard being particularly underused — his primary function seems to be Quite Famous so we’ll consider him a decent contender to be the Secret Villain. The other star name, Ewan McGregor, does the best he can with perhaps the film’s best character — his Irish Camerlengo is more interestingly conflicted than the film deserves or can manage, and as such is underwritten. That said, he’s stuck with an Irish accent that comes and goes and is still lumbered with at least one dire speech. Only Armin Mueller-Stahl emerges with much dignity left, in the medium-sized role of fellow Secret Villain possibility Cardinal Strauss.

In another misstep, Angels & Demons exhibits an overuse of special effects. It may not seem like the sort of film that would need them, but the sci-fi side of things brings plenty of CGI along whenever it rears its head. These include some elements at the climax that may have been literally copy-and-pasted from Watchmen’s graphics department, though to say much more would spoil the sheer lunacy of how the film finishes. Suffice to say, most will absolutely hate it; I almost do, but at the same time almost respect it for being so bonkers. On top of this, that the crew were denied permission to film in many of Rome’s famous locales means there’s an abundance of computer-aided locations. They probably look perfectly real to your average movie goer, but for me they all had that slight indefinable oddness that’s present too often these days — think Quantum of Solace’s Siena chase and bell-tower-to-art-gallery tumble for an example of what I mean.

Angels & Demons makes for an occasionally entertaining run around, though there’s less meat on its bones than The Da Vinci Code, and the comparative lack of believability makes for less fun than its predecessor’s “well, maybe…” plot. Those who disliked the first film may prefer this for being less talky, more pacey, and, perhaps, being aware of its own silliness. Those who actually liked the first film may disagree.

3 out of 5

My review of the extended version of Angels & Demons can now be read here.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)

2009 #23
Gavin Hood | 107 mins | cinema | 12A / PG-13

X-Men is a Great Big Action Movie Franchise — you know, the kind that sprawl on through increasingly lengthy films with the constant risk of diminishing quality. Well, at a relatively brisk 107 minutes, this fourth entry in the X-series is actually the second longest. Shocking I know. But while it counterintuitively conforms to the first rule, it fortunately doesn’t to the second, despite what others may say.

Wolverine, to put it simply — much as the film would — entertains. In this respect it may lack the depth of X-Men or X2, both of which played with subtexts of social exclusion and derision evoking especially the historical treatment of Jews and homosexuals; but, taken as a straightforward action-adventure movie about people with extraordinary abilities fighting each other, it more than satisfies. To this end the action sequences are mostly very good. Only one suffers notably from dark cinematography and choppy editing, both common faults these days, while others manage to exhibit the odd bout of originality — the climax atop a nuclear power station is brilliant, making good use of the characters’ superpowers while also delivering on the ol’ punching-and-kicking front. Some have criticised the action for being physically ludicrous, but perhaps they should be reminded that they’re watching a film about people with superpowers. With that in mind, Wolverine never goes beyond what’s plausible for the world that’s been created across all four films.

In fact, lack of subtext aside, this isn’t as distant from the other X-Men films as the single-character focus and prequel status may suggest. It’s mutant-packed, with numerous cameos from characters familiar to comics fans; it begins with the activities of a superhero team, ends with the rescue of a bunch of mutant kids, and the main plot revolves around some humans doing Bad Things to mutants — just like the first three. The most obvious difference is that Wolverine is now very much the central character, but even that isn’t a great change: he was in the first two, however much they tried to convince us otherwise, only neutered in the third because they knew this prequel was on the way. (For me, the abandonment of Wolverine’s backstory was The Last Stand’s biggest fault, the primary thing that made it feel truly separate from the first two films where it was the central — and unresolved — subplot.)

Elsewhere, the vaguely Watchmen-like opening titles are quite neat, conveying backstory and building up the Wolverine/Sabretooth relationship in an attractive fashion, while also slightly distancing this film from the rest of the series by being in a very different style. While the dialogue is rarely more than efficient, there is the odd good one-liner, my particular favourite being when a grossly overweight character mishears Wolverine’s trademark “bub” as “Blob”, a neat use of one familiar element to create another. Even with these moments, almost all the actors are above the script, especially Ryan Reynolds considering how briefly he appears. All do good work nonetheless, the standouts including Dominic Monaghan, whose character is so different from the violence-centric rest that you wish there was more of him, and Liev Schreiber, who is absolutely fine at what he has to do but would benefit from a few more dramatic scenes to get stuck into. Some of his scenes with Wolverine feel very much like a pair of good actors attempting to transcend the material they’re working from.

Around these weaker parts, Hugh Jackman unquestionably carries the film, and is occasionally granted more to do than just fight people. He even gets to attempt something we’ve not seen from Wolverine before: happiness. Even knowing where it’s all going to end — and there is sometimes a sense that we’re just being told a story we’ve either heard before or worked out for ourselves — there are bits like this that help flesh it out, that show us elements of Logan we might not have bothered to consider otherwise. There’s still the odd instance of box-ticking though, as the few pieces we know from the trilogy are strung together by this film’s plot. They’re not too awkwardly slotted in, but there is an awareness that someone was joining up dots.

While this can be ignored, the same can’t always be said for Wolverine’s noticeably silly hairstyle — one particularly bouffanty moment during the climax even provoked laughter from the audience I saw it with. Intriguingly, Jackman is the second of three Aussies with bloody silly hair this summer, following Russell Crowe’s L’Oréal locks in State of Play and preceding Eric Bana’s Picard pate in Star Trek. I’m sure there must be some deeper meaning to these bad barnets…

Unfortunately, a dodgy ’do isn’t the worst of Wolverine’s problems. There’s some very poor CGI, as if the effects guys thought claws were easy so didn’t worry about them too much. Clearly, this isn’t so. The much-criticised de-aging of another recognisable character is also weak, but, for my money, no weaker than what we saw in The Last Stand. Gambit is miscast and underused, and I’m told Deadpool is the latter also. Not being familiar with the character I had no real problem with his treatment here, but perhaps this is why fanboys dislike the film and some others won’t mind it: if you know what these two characters can be or are meant to be, their sidelining might feel like a betrayal; but if you don’t know them, there’s little wrong with them.

The biggest sin for others is that, at times, Wolverine merrily rolls out clichés. One might argue that it’s set in the ’70s and conforming to some kind of ’70s movie schtick, but that would be a pretty thin argument considering it’s not in evidence anywhere else. Personally, I was amused how some of these lines or moments are sped past, as if everyone involved knew they were shooting a bad cliché but felt they had to leave it in.

This year is surprisingly light on superhero movies, with only Watchmen and now Wolverine to satiate that particular fanbase. Of course, last year was exceptionally packed with them, and as the build to Marvel’s massive Avengers team-up kicks off next summer we’ve got a heavy few years ahead. A bit of a break is nice then, and while Watchmen dealt with the more intellectual front of superheroes (or, if you disliked it, tried to), Wolverine caters to the other side with its unashamed action-adventure entertainment. In fact, by being Actually Quite Good when almost everyone is laying into it, Wolverine manages to become the most underrated film of the year so far.

4 out of 5