Chronicle: Extended Edition (2012)

Posted on November 15, 2014 by badblokebob

aka Chronicle: Extended Director’s Cut

The birth of the “found footage” sub-genre and the resurgence of the superhero movie began around the same time, the former with The Blair Witch Project in 1999 and the latter with X-Men in 2000. They both arguably came of age towards the end of the noughties, with the box office success of Paranormal Activity in 2009 and the start of the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2008’s Iron Man. It was inevitable, really, that someone would eventually combine these coincidentally-linked post-millennial cinematic obsessions, and that someone was director Josh Trank, who became one of (if not the) youngest directors to open a movie in the #1 spot at the US box office with this, his debut feature.

The obvious route for a found-footage superhero movie is surely in the Kick-Ass/Super mould: a wannabe dressing up in a funny costume and setting out to fight crime, in the real world. Trank and screenwriter Max Landis have grander ambitions, however, setting their sights on characters who develop Superman-esque powers. It means the movie isn’t as low-budget and independently-produced as you might have expected (although clearly not high-budget, it’s full of special effects, and was released by 20th Century Fox), but it does retain a more subversive element — for one, that great responsibility doesn’t necessarily follow great power.

The story sees high school senior Andrew (Dane DeHaan) decide to start filming everything in his life, thanks to his borderline-abusive alcoholic father (Michael Kelly) and terminally ill mother (Bo Petersen). The same day (what a coincidence!), his cousin and only friend, Matt (Alex Russell), takes him to a party where, along with most-popular-kid-in-school Steve (Michael B. Jordan), they discover a hole in the woods with mysteries inside… Days later, all three begin to develop telekinetic powers, which they learn they can levy in various incredible ways — those ways being super, but largely without the heroic…

Which, in case you misread me, is not to say the boys become supervillains. Rather, they do what a lot of teenage lads would do: throw balls at each other with their mind; eat Pringles without having to pick up the can; use a leaf blower on a girl’s skirt; and so on. Using the found-footage style naturally, the friends experiment with their abilities, gradually increasing them, and bonding in the process. The story isn’t short of action or incident (some might disagree), but is equally character-focused, presenting individuals who are more rounded and believable people than your average superhero characters.

This is even more pronounced in the extended version (“extended director’s cut” in the US), which includes over five minutes of extra bits that, in my opinion, make it a superior edit. Some are minor in impact, true, but there are a couple of short sequences with Andrew and Steve that deepen their relationship further, which enriches events at the end of act two. There’s also a moment that subtly prefigures the climax, and an extra bit in said finale that seems nigh-on essential to me. Considering the film still runs (just under) 90 minutes even with these additions, it’s difficult to see why they were cut in the first place. “Pace” is usually the rational for that, but if this is indeed a Director’s Cut then clearly Trank didn’t think they were an issue; equally, I can’t see why Fox would have objected. Still, they’re here to enjoy on Blu-ray…. though not on DVD… and I guess they’re not in TV screenings… Tsk.

Some accuse the film of being clichéd and predictable, which I don’t hold much truck with. It’s not twist-filled, but I felt the characters and their interactions grew naturally — if you can see where it’s going, it’s because it’s well-constructed, not because it’s how every movie does it. The time invested in growing our relationship with all three lead characters pays off increasingly as the movie rolls on, too, so that the climax is about more than just spectacle.

That said, spectacle it has. You wouldn’t expect that from a $12 million found-footage movie, but an epic duel through the streets of Seattle is one of the strongest climaxes to any superhero movie I can remember. It’s kind of like Man of Steel’s, only released a year earlier and executed a thousand times better (the lack of mass destruction and associated innocent-bystander massacre is a bonus). The finale is undoubtedly the high point of the film’s visual extravagance, but numerous other sections are striking too, not least thanks to Andrew’s mastery of controlling the camera with his mind, letting it float gently around as he films himself and others.

The qualities of the climax could be seen as a microcosm for the entire film, actually: a stylistic gimmick that works so well you forget many people consider it a gimmick; a scale grander than you might expect from both that gimmick and the movie’s budget; a largely-innovative treatment of a much-trod genre; and, similarly, characters who are multi-dimensional and better-realsied than your average, thanks both to Landis’ writing and a team of top-notch performances, particularly from DeHaan and Jordan — there’s a reason they’ve both gone on to bigger things.

In the hands of many a desperate-to-get-noticed filmmaker, a found-footage superhero movie would likely have been a straight-to-DVD affair that could at best be described as “mediocre”. In Chronicle, however, Trank and co have crafted one of the best movies produced in either sub-genre. Most of the people involved — as well as the film they’ve all come from — can be classed as “one to watch”.

The network TV premiere of Chronicle is on Channel 4 tonight at 10pm.

It placed 6th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2014, which can be read in full here.

* Right: Chronicle was released in UK cinemas as a 12A, but with a couple of cuts for violence. On DVD/Blu-ray, it’s an uncut 15. Meanwhile, in the US, the theatrical version is PG-13, while the extended cut is technically Unrated. However, most of the additions are character scenes, so it’s surely still a PG-13. ^

Touch of Evil (1958)

Posted on September 24, 2014 by badblokebob

1998 Reconstructed Version

A bomb is stuck to the underside of a car. As the vehicle pulls away, the camera drifts up into the sky, and proceeds to follow the automobile through the streets of a small Mexican border town, until it crosses the border into the US… and explodes. It’s probably the most famous long take in film history, and probably the thing Touch of Evil is most widely known for; that, and it being one of the most commonly-cited points at which the classic film noir era comes to an end.

So who planted the bomb? Who was their target? And why? None of those questions matter. I’m sure they’re answered, but I don’t recall what those answers were, because they’re not what the film is about. What it’s about is Charlton Heston vs Orson Welles. The former is Vargas, a righteous Mexican drugs enforcement officer who witnesses the bombing while out walking with his new American wife. The latter is Quinlan, the policeman charged with finding the culprit — and he isn’t an honest copper. When Quinlan works out who he thinks is guilty, he makes sure there’s the evidence to back that up. And I don’t mean by doing thorough police work. Vargas catches him more-or-less in the act; Quinlan won’t allow himself to be exposed. It’s a game of cat and mouse; at stake, not just two men’s reputations, but justice and the law (not the same thing); and just waiting to get tangled in the middle, Vargas’ new wife — sweet, innocent Janet Leigh.

This is not film noir as many think they know it. Instead of a doggedly determined wisecracking PI solving a slightly seedy case, Touch of Evil is suffused with a sweaty and disquieting atmosphere. It’s like a terrible fever dream, with events and characters that sometimes seem disconnected, but nonetheless interweave through a dense plot. In this sense Welles puts us quite effectively in the shoes of Vargas and his wife — out of our depth, out of our comfort zone, out of control, struggling to keep up and keep afloat. It might be unpleasant if it wasn’t so engrossing.

Similarly uncomfortable are the film’s moral implications. Well, possibly. In the booklet accompanying Masters of Cinema’s Blu-ray release, French critics François Truffaut and André Bazin both assert that Welles’ Quinlan, while ostensibly the villain, is really a hero; that though he technically breaks the law, he’s morally right to do so. Essentially — or in Truffaut’s case, explicitly — they are defending policemen who fabricate evidence to ensure a conviction. Unfortunately for all their so-called intellectualising, Welles completely disagrees: “The personal element in the film is the hatred I feel for the way the police abuse their power… The things said by Vargas are what I would say myself… that’s the angle the film should be seen from; everything Vargas says, I say.”

Amusingly, Bazin is indeed forced to admit that “in the interviews which he gave me… Welles challenged this interpretation. He maintains that his moral position is unequivocal and he condemns [Quinlan] absolutely”. Meanwhile, Truffaut’s praise-filled essay asserts that, in the film’s ending, “[Vargas’] sneakiness and mediocrity have triumphed over [Quinlan’s] intuition and absolute justice.” Elsewhere, Welles summarises that “it’s a mistake to think I approve of Quinlan at all… there is not the least spark of genius in him; if there does seem to be one, I’ve made a mistake.” You can get pretentious about it all you want, and bring to bear political views that the film doesn’t support (after all, within the film Quinlan is punished for his crimes and the “mediocre” (Truffaut’s word) moral hero triumphs), but sometimes a spade is a spade; sometimes a villain is a villain; sometimes your disgusting moral perspective isn’t being covertly supported by a film that seems to condemn it.

Welles:

What I want to say in the film is this: that in the modern world we have to choose between the law’s morality, and the morality of simple justice, that is to say between lynching someone and letting him go free. I prefer a murderer to go free, than to have the police arrest him by mistake. Quinlan doesn’t so much want to bring the guilty to justice, as to murder them in the name of the law, and that’s a fascist argument, a totalitarian argument contrary to the tradition of human law and justice such as I understand it.

So that’s the end of that.

Welles’ beliefs about filmmaking were similarly forthright, stating that “all of the eloquence of film is created in the editing room” — the images were important, but the real art was in how they were placed together in the edit. It must have been especially hard for him, then, that so many of his films were “violently torn from [his] hands”: as of 1965, he says only Citizen Kane, Othello and Don Quixote were movies he’d been allowed to edit to his own specification (and that last one barely counts).

Notably and obviously absent from that list is Touch of Evil. It was taken away from Welles during the editing process, and though he submitted an infamous 58-page memo of suggestions after seeing a later rough cut, only some were followed in the version ultimately released. Time has brought change, however, and there are now multiple versions of Touch of Evil for the viewer to choose from; but whereas history often resolves one version of a film to be the definitive article, it’s hard to know which that is in this case. Indeed, it’s so contentious that Masters of Cinema went so far as to include five versions on their 2011 Blu-ray (it would’ve been six, but Universal couldn’t/wouldn’t supply the final one in HD.) The version I chose to watch, dubbed the “Reconstructed Version”, tries to recreate Welles’ vision, using footage from the theatrical cut and a preview version discovered in the ’70s to follow his notes. Despite the best intentions of its creators, this can only ever be an attempt at restoring what Welles wanted. Equally, although it was the version originally released, the theatrical cut ignores many of the director’s wishes — so as neither version was finished by Welles, surely the one created by people trying to enact his wishes is preferable to the one assembled by people who only took his ideas on advisement?

But that’s not all, poor viewer! There’s also the issue of the film’s aspect ratio: Welles was forced to shoot the film for projection at 1.85:1, but he did so on the understanding that an open matte 1.37:1 version would be shown on TV. He penned an article the same year as Touch of Evil’s release, called “Ribbon of Dreams”, in which he firmly advocates the Academy ratio and shows a strong distaste for widescreen (reading it today, it’s reminiscent of and comparable to Christopher Nolan’s comments on the film vs digital debate). With that considered, the full screen version would seem the preferable choice. To quote from Master of Cinema’s booklet, “the familiar Wellesian framing appears in 1.37:1: indeed, the “world” of the film setting emerges with little or no empty space at the top and bottom of the frame, almost certainly beyond mere coincidence.” There are things to recommend the widescreen experience (“a more tightly-wound, claustrophobic atmosphere”), and undoubtedly the debate will continue… and such is the wonders of the modern film fan that, rather than having to make do with someone else’s decision on what to put out, all the alternatives are at our fingertips.

Obviously I can’t speak for all the different cuts of Touch of Evil, but considering its constituent elements, it’s hard to imagine a version that isn’t complex, thought-provoking, perhaps a bit uncomfortable, and all-round an impressive work of cinema.

Touch of Evil 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.

G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013)

Posted on August 26, 2014 by badblokebob

aka G.I. Joe: Retaliation – Extended Action Edition

The follow-up to 2009’s Team America-esque toy adaptation G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra seemed to be better received than the first. Presumably that’s just by comparison, because this is not a good movie.

I do agree that, on the whole, it’s not as stupid… just about. I mean, it’s not unremittingly laughably bad, at least. Well, mostly — it’s full of dumb-ass plotting. Like, what are North Korea doing at a nuclear arms conference in the US? How do you use a weapon that relies on gravity in space? Would the entire world really set off all their nukes just because the US President did? And so on. At least there are a handful of good action bits, especially some physics-defying ludicrousness in the Himalayas that I truly wish was in a better film so I could see it again sometime.

Retaliation wants to have its cake and eat it by being both a sequel (character and plot points launch out of the first one) and a fresh movie for newcomers (some characters have disappeared, some are dispatched in-movie, those that survive may as well be new for all their depth). Unfortunately it doesn’t work: it feels disjointed from the first film (a stated desire to make it less sci-fi and more real-world sees to that), but there’s too much carried over for it to feel standalone.

That desire to be real-world works at times — at one point, in spite of their silly name, the Joes do seem like a real military. But the SF/F is never far away; indeed, a band of outré ninjas are introduced almost as soon as our heroes, and they set off on an OTT plotline simultaneously. As the film wears on, it disappears further and further into fantasy; and not “version of our world” fantasy, but “kids’ Saturday morning cartoon” fantasy. The plot suggests the violence etc should be slightly toned down and the whole affair should have a PG, or even a U. Much like the first film, then.

The intercutting of several storylines doesn’t work. There’s nothing wrong with the idea of a multi-pronged narrative, but Retaliation skips between them almost at random, sometimes mid-sequence, as if it’s restless or doesn’t know how to balance the sequences correctly. Inexperienced director? Writers? Editor(s)? It means things get thumb-twiddlingly boring as it plods through the middle act(s).

Talking of the direction, watching the Blu-ray’s making-of suggests it was executives from toy company Hasbro who were really in charge of the film. Director Jon Chu came from the Justin Bieber movie, of all things, and was a suggestion of Paramount. There’s some guff about how he showed promise or something, but I suspect the real answer is, “he was eager and would do whatever he was told”.

Elsewhere in that making-of, the guys from Hasbro talk about how they wanted to ensure the characters were distinct, not just Generic Soldiers. Failed that, then. It’s fortunate that most of the Joes are massacred because the only stand-outs are The Rock (because he’s The Rock), Channing Tatum (because he was in the first one), and Adrianne Palicki (because she’s the only girl). Even once D.J. Cotrona’s Flint (and I had to IMDb both of those names) is one of just three Joes left, his only distinguishing features are that he’s Not The Rock and Not The Girl. He is, to use a phrase borrowed from the Hasbro guys, a Generic Soldier. “Oops.”

Retaliation isn’t as bad as The Rise of Cobra. If that sounds like damning with faint praise then, yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. It sails as close to the 1-star breeze as a 2-star film can.

G.I. Joe: Retaliation featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2014, which can be read in full here.

* The extended cut is unrated in the US. The theatrical cut was PG-13, and I rather imagine this would be too. ^

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (1976/1978)

Posted on June 30, 2014 by badblokebob

aka The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (Short Version)

Ever since I read the blurb for Masters of Cinema’s DVD of Maurice Pialat’s Police, I’ve been casually enticed by The Killing of a Chinese Bookie. Said blurb asserts that “Police is a genre-defying excursion rivaled only by John Cassavetes’ The Killing of a Chinese Bookie in the pantheon of cinema’s most idiosyncratic thrillers”, which is both a nice turn of phrase and an intriguing one. The thriller is very much a Genre — that is to say, it’s a label loaded with rules and expectations, and to be idiosyncratic within such a form is an interesting notion. Both “thriller” and “idiosyncratic” are pretty accurate labels for Chinese Bookie, though, even in its re-cut (by the director) ‘short version’.

The plot sees strip club owner Cosmo Vittelli (Ben Gazzara) lured in to killing the titular bookie as payment for his gambling debts to some gangsters. The title kind of gives away whether he does it or not (though an ever-doubtful Cassavetes reportedly considered having him not go through with it), but nonetheless the film doesn’t lack the genre’s requisite tension and suspense. However, it’s more of a character study. How aware is Cosmo of the mess he’s getting himself in to, and how far is he prepared to go? What drives the man? There are no easy answers, unsurprisingly, but that doesn’t make the questions unworthy of consideration.

According to the notes accompanying the BFI’s Blu-ray release, the ‘short version’ — which Cassavetes created after his original cut was “almost universally panned [and] yanked from the theatres within days” — not only makes the film shorter, but also more focused, clarifying various plot points. The style of much independent ’70s cinema — naturalistic to the point of being almost documentarian, with half-caught snatches of dialogue and sequences that seem trimmed to (almost) the relevant moments from much longer filming — still begs that you pay attention, but it seems this cut gives you more of a hand: it gets to the killing quicker (“63 vs 82 minutes”), a meeting with gangsters is “longer, more coherent and explicit”, and so on.

Perhaps the biggest change is early on: the short version implies Cosmo takes his girls out to celebrate (then gets into debt); the original cut implies he’s been invited to the gambling den so he can be set up. That’s quite a shift in emphasis, turning the lead character from a picked-on ‘mark’ in the long version to a sort-of-coincidental brought-about-his-own-downfall type in the re-edit. In his 1980 review (included in the BFI booklet), John Pym asserts that Cosmo is “clearly” a patsy, a fact obscured in the short cut by the removal of that scene where he’s invited to gamble. Is he an easily-lulled patsy, then, as the gangsters think? Or is it more as I interpreted: here’s a man who acts the fool, who pretends to be easily tricked, in order to keep people happy; but who is actually much more competent and aware of what’s going on? Look at his speech near the end about being what others want. This is a man determined to keep others happy and thinking well of him; not in a superficial way, but as some fundamental character trait. Is that how he gets lured into the killing, then — purely because they asked nicely? But then later, when he escapes and gets some kind of revenge or freedom… well, that’s not so friendly. Is he finally doing something for himself? Or was he selfish all along — not much of a leap, especially considering the world he operates in.

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie is not a neat little thriller in any respect. As Tom Charity puts it (in the BFI booklet again), “if the scenario sounds generic, the film is something else”. It reminded me of Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets, a film I didn’t particularly like (but which did inspire Cassavetes), but I had more time for this. Perhaps that’s just me ageing (it’s the best part of seven years since I saw Mean Streets) and becoming more attuned to this kind of movie; the kind that uses “hesitations, repetitions, and longueurs as tools of disruption and misdirection”, by a director so “mistrustful of anything that smacked of tidy resolution, he regularly turned his movies around in the editing to more ambiguous and purposefully aggravating effect.”

That’s the kind of movie Chinese Bookie is: ambiguous, purposefully aggravating, without a tidy resolution. It requires the audience to work a bit. Is it worth the effort? You know, I’m never quite sure (see Bicycle Thieves for another example), and whether I appreciate it or not probably depends as much on the mood a particular film catches me in as much as its inherent quality (see also Rage). This one, while as awkward as any, engaged me just enough.

The Wolverine: Extended Cut (2013)

Posted on May 22, 2014 by badblokebob

aka The Wolverine: Unleashed Extended Edition

Rather than a sequel to the poorly-received X-Men Origins: Wolverine (which I mistakenly gave four stars back when it was in cinemas — hey, everyone else was too harsh), Fox’s X-Men film franchise here jumps back to the present day (after a ’60s aside for the excellent First Class) for the first time since 2006, to see what happened to fan-favourite Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) after he (spoilers!) killed the love of his life to save the world in poorly-received (though, again, it’s not as bad as most people think) X-Men trilogy-closer The Last Stand.

We catch up with Logan as a recluse in the wilds of his native Canada. He’s soon sought out by swordswoman Yukio (Rila Fukushima), who has been sent to bring him to Japan. There, a man whose life Logan saved in World War II (Haruhiko Yamanouchi) has become a technology giant, and wants to offer Wolverine the one thing no one else has: the removal of his healing factor, and with it the chance to finally die a normal death. Of course things aren’t all they appear, with numerous threats emerging to the old man, to his family — including his daughter, and Logan’s love interest, Mariko (Tao Okamoto) — and, of course, to everyone’s favourite beclawed mutant.

For the most part, The Wolverine feels refreshingly different to other superhero movies. That’s largely thanks to its Japanese setting and supporting cast, the primary element inherited from the acclaimed Chris Claremont/Frank Miller comic book miniseries that loosely inspired the film (not that anyone gets a credit for that). Those might sound like superficial differences, but the change of faces, scenery and culture seems to have infused the film’s attitude. Couple that with a plot that is more of a thriller than one of the usual three Superhero Movie storylines, and the end result is a moderately unique movie. OK, it doesn’t ooze originality, but nor does it feel quite like your run-of-the-mill powered-people-punch-each-other comic book yarn.

Indeed, in places it threatens to become a proper character study. Although almost all of the X-Men movies have focused on Logan, it’s debatable how much they’ve dug in to him as a person before now — they’ve not dwelt on what his mutation means for his life or personality, merely used his memory loss as the chance for a mystery. There’s lots more exploration of the former here, at least by the standards of a summer blockbuster; and alongside that, the plot incorporates issues of honour and familial responsibility, which are suitably echoed by the Japanese setting and culture.

While it may be Jackman’s film — something only emphasised by a sprawling array of new characters that there isn’t quite enough time for — he’s not the only one who stands out. It’s Fukushima and Okamoto who are memorable in particular, and having such effective female characters once again distances the film from the majority of its genre brethren. It seems a shame neither feature in Days of Future Past — not that there’d be room for them, I suppose — but if the mooted third Wolverine solo outing comes to pass, I hope one or both are back.

Talking of women, you can’t overlook Logan’s lost love, Famke Janssen’s Jean Grey. Considering the build-up pitched The Wolverine as a standalone film, with perhaps the occasional nod to the wider X-universe, including rumours of a Jean cameo, the final film is surprisingly tied-in to previous events: there’s actually loads of Jean (how? Well…), and Wolverine’s personal journey is very much grounded in the events of The Last Stand. I’m sure you could watch this without having seen or remembered a previous X-movie, because the bulk of the plot is indeed standalone, but the emotional journey is invested in what came before.

Unfortunately, a couple of things spoil the party — for starters, another woman: as Viper-lady, Svetlana Khodchenkova camps it up too much. When the rest of the film is more serious, almost plain dramatic in places, her OTT comic book stylings jar uncomfortably. It doesn’t help that the movie is bizarrely overstuffed with villains. Considering the general dramatic emphasis, it needs them even less than usual; plus, when it’s been observed for over 15 years (i.e. since Batman & Robin) that a superhero movie suffers under the weight of too many antagonists, there’s no excuse for it anymore.

More of a let down is the regular-superhero-schtick climax. A mix of muddled storytelling (things go unexplained, then are suddenly clarified in a rush of exposition) and a trashy “make the villain stronger, then punch him lots” escalation of action, it’s a disappointing end to a film that has otherwise felt on course for “genre classic”-level distinctiveness. Without seeing all the behind-the-scenes goings-on it’s difficult to know whose fault this was, but it’s equally difficult to imagine the screenplay that Darren Aronofsky (far from your regular blockbuster director) described as “a terrific script” could have concluded this way; and knowing that his replacement, James Mangold, fiddled with the script before shooting commenced… well, draw your own conclusions.

Still, other technical elements shine: there’s beautiful cinematography from Ross Emery, and Marco Beltrami’s score is nice — no bit particularly sticks in my mind, but it felt suitably evocative. Even if the climax disappoints, there’s a smattering of entertaining action sequences before that, including some great claws-on-sword duelling. Some of this has been amped for the twelve-minutes-longer extended cut, though a lot of that additional time actually goes to the dramatic side of things, as detailed here. There are 65 alterations in all, which frankly I couldn’t be bothered to read through. (However, I noticed at least three uses of the F-word, a number which I believe America’s tick-box classification system grants an automatic R. In the UK it seems such antics can be allowed to slide at a 12.)

The Wolverine isn’t quite the movie it could have been; nor, I think, quite the one the makers hoped they were producing. Jackman has intimated since that it’s studio interference that pushes for silly-big action sequences and the like, but that fan feedback might slowly be winning them around to the things viewers actually care about. Whether that’s true or not, I guess we’ll see in the next instalment…

X-Men: Days of Future Past is released in the UK today, the US tomorrow, and pretty much everywhere else at some point this week. The next Wolverine movie is currently scheduled for release on 3rd March 2017.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey – Extended Edition (2012/2013)

Posted on April 2, 2014 by badblokebob

Few would deny that Peter Jackson’s extended versions of The Lord of the Rings trilogy are the definitive cuts of those films, restoring passages initially cut purely for time. Naturally he’s pulling the same trick with The Hobbit trilogy; but whereas Rings had condensed huge tomes, leaving material on the cutting room floor (or never filmed) even after the extended cuts, The Hobbit is a much slighter work; one that has already been stretched to breaking point by adapting it across three movies. In fact, as I noted in my review of the theatrical version, that already felt like the extended cut — how much more do we need?

Jackson thinks 12 minutes and 53 seconds, to be precise. That’s an extension of 7.6% — not very much, really, but is what’s there significant? The short answer is: not really. While watching I spotted one all-new scene, a few extra bits here and there, and there was at least one part that the Blu-ray’s scene selection says is new but I thought I remembered.

Fortunately, this Amazon review has us covered with a full list of 10 extensions. A couple of bits contribute to where things will go in The Desolation of Smaug, which seems moderately essential to me, though I suppose only if you’re managing to follow every subplot across all eight or nine hours (unlikely when watching once a year at the cinema, perhaps). There’s a couple of character-building extensions, a couple of extra songs, and more of the dwarves having fun (much to the elves’ displeasure) at Rivendell. There’s not as much extra time with the dwarves as I expected, though, with most of the character time still going to Bilbo.

I’ve read at least one review that says the longer version makes the film lesser; that the theatrical cut is definitely superior. I don’t hold any stock in that opinion. Extended, An Unexpected Journey is not a better film, it’s not a worse film, there’s just slightly more of it. I know some people think the first version was too long as it was, but an extra 13 minutes on something already that length is almost neither here nor there. That said, looking back over what was added in the wake of seeing the second film, I can’t help but feel that, when viewed as a trilogy, the little extensions that feed into events of The Desolation of Smaug (and presumably this December’s third film too) make the extended edition a marginally preferable version.

Also, I think that a second viewing improves the experience of the film, whichever cut you watch. I liked An Unexpected Journey the first time round, of course, but I felt even more at peace with it on the second— I was able to just enjoy it, rather than constantly be comparing its scope and style to Lord of the Rings, or trying to assess how well it measured up as a decade-later return to a beloved world. I was also able to appreciate just how good the performances are. Series stalwarts Ian McKellen and Andy Serkis are as good as ever (even with McKellen’s widely-cited unhappiness at having to work alone on a green screen for many of his scenes with the smaller characters), but newcomers Martin Freeman, Richard Armitage and James Nesbitt shine too. This is Freeman’s film to be the centre of attention, but Armitage and Nesbitt will have much more to do in the follow-ups, and the groundwork is nicely laid here.

For those who hated An Unexpected Journey, watching again in any form might not be enough to bring about a conversion; but for the less sure… well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say watching it again can be revelatory, but I think it could be pleasantly surprising. Whether you have the patience for an extra 13 minutes of it is down to personal preference. I think that, in the scope of the entire trilogy, several of those few short moments will ultimately pay off.

In case you missed it, my review of the theatrical cut can be read here.

The second part of the trilogy, The Desolation of Smaug, is released on DVD and Blu-ray in the UK next Monday, April 7th, and in the US on Tuesday 8th. I’ll have a review soon.

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters – Extended Cut (2013)

Posted on December 5, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Unrated Cut

Having heard only bad things, I expected a soul-crushing dud of Van Helsing proportions. Actually, it’s a lot of fun.

At times it takes itself too seriously, and for a bit in the middle it goes on, but mostly it’s thoroughly daft — in a good way. Some of that’s deliberate humour, other bits likely unintentional (why do a random scattering of characters have American accents?!) The action and gore are treated appropriately too; that’s to say, outrageously comical most of the time.

It’s not some missed classic, but it is a fun time, and plentifully entertaining as a comedy-horror-fantasy-action flick.

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

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

* Despite being ‘unrated’ in America, both cuts received a 15 from the BBFC. They list the extended version as precisely 10 minutes longer. There’s a full list of differences here, or a quicker summary here. ^

Land of the Dead: Director’s Cut (2005)

Posted on October 31, 2013 by badblokebob

While the first three ‘Dead’ films (or “the original trilogy”, to put it in Star Wars-y terms) now all look and feel like ‘classic movies’ (read: “old movies”), the next three bring things bang up to date: Land of the Dead was only released eight years ago.

Set in a world where the zombie epidemic has been running for years, perhaps decades — but with a title card that lets us know this is “Today” — Land of the Dead focuses on a city of haves and have-nots: a massive tower block, Fiddler’s Green, houses those both rich enough to buy a place there and deemed suitable for entry by its board of directors; in the wreckage of a city around them, regular folk live in slums. Raiding parties go out to surrounding small towns to raid what’s left of canned goods and so forth, where the zombies live a dumb show of their former lives — until one of them realises that they could be something more…

A quick glance at the internet suggests Land is significantly less well regarded than Romero’s original trilogy, which I think is distinctly unfair. The reasons for this seem to be twofold: viewers coming to it as a modern zombie movie, apparently unaware of Romero’s legacy — or so I presume, from their complaints about sentient/sympathetic zombies; and fans of old who see it as too slick and modern, a sell-out to mainstream action/horror films. I don’t really agree with either.

Firstly, the zombies. They’re a development of the ideas we saw emerging through Bub in Day of the Dead. The ‘head zombie’ here is a hulking ex-mechanic-type, who witnesses a raid on his town where the humans needlessly ‘kill’ some of his fellow undead on their way out of town. He is outraged. This is a zombie not only sporting intelligence, but also emotion; a desire to protect, as he attempts to save some of his comrades’ ‘lives’; and then a desire for revenge, when he sees the glittering lights of the city in the distance. Lead he does, corralling the other zombies into a slow march towards their target.

Romero has said that he read Richard Matheson’s novel I Am Legend, the inspiration for Night of the Living Dead, as an analogy for revolution. Matheson’s vampire/zombie creatures are the successful revolutionaries, the hero the last remnant of someone resisting the change. Romero didn’t see him as the hero, but the old guard who ought to give in. I don’t know how fully Night adopts that theme (the revolution seems to have been crushed — though, in a ’60s America where protest seemed to have little impact, I can well believe that was Romero’s point), but it’s certainly present in Land: the oppressed zombie silent-majority rising up against their self-decreed masters.

Each of Romero’s films has had a significant, sympathetic black male hero. That wasn’t a deliberate choice in Night, but it seems to be a theme continued throughout the series: Night’s Ben is the intelligent, resourceful, thoughtful leader; Dawn’s Peter is the most level-headed and well-prepared of that film’s men; Day’s John wisely stays out of the soldier-vs-scientist bickering, and it’s ultimately his plan of escape to a deserted island that they follow. Land has an heroic black character too — but he’s the leader of the zombies. As if you were in any doubt that we were meant to be on their side, even if just a little bit.

In the world of the humans, meanwhile, we also have an oppressed majority: the slum dwellers. Attempts at revolution there are soundly ignored, with the rich quietly taking the opposition out as ‘trash’ whenever able (which, I guess, is whenever they want). The people are controlled by drink, drugs, gambling, prostitution, and any other cheap entertainment you can imagine, all secretly managed from on-high to keep the general populace docile. And those entertainments are getting increasingly extreme, too: the zombie-on-zombie cage fights previously used cat or dog meat as motivation, but now they throw in Asia Argento. Again, Romero is holding a mirror up to present-day America, where the illusion of a ‘free society’ with easy social mobility is supported by the mega-rich in order to keep the poor down. It takes the zombie invasion for anything to change, which may be a case of Romero “following the story” rather than reflecting a political reality — who’s going to invade the US?

This is where I diverge from the aforementioned “old fans”, because Land is clearly bursting with Romero’s usual socio-political analogies and commentary. There’s the rich/poor divide (which, in real life, is actually shockingly extreme in the US) and the abundance of entertainment, as previously discussed; there’s certainly some post-9/11 thoughts (quoth Dennis Hopper, “we do not negotiate with terrorists”), and perhaps post-Katrina too; perhaps the zombies represent foreign nationals, either breaking in (for a nation founded on immigration, the US are certainly very cautious about it, especially when it comes to Mexicans) or kicking off a revolution (a ‘prediction’ of the Arab Spring?); and there are freedom fighters within too, who are incarcerated and apparently tortured without trial (Guantanamo); or, if you want to see Romero as a genuine prophet, they could be foreshadowing Occupy Wall Street and its ilk. But hey, it’s also got some action scenes, right? Those commenters that do acknowledge these facets claim Romero’s just not as subtle as he used to be, which is also poppycock: Dawn’s criticism of consumerism is as blatant as anything listed here — perhaps even more so, because you can just watch Land as a near-future science-fiction humans-vs-humans-vs-zombies action flick, whereas I think Dawn’s ‘subtext’ is unmissable.

Indeed, while lots of reviews and articles merrily analyse these films’ commentary on their respective eras’ socio-political concerns, what’s less often (or “never”, as far as I’ve seen) noticed is how they reflect the filmmaking styles of their times as well. Night is a stark black-and-white chiller, contemporaneous with the likes of Psycho; Dawn is an auteur-driven socially-conscious ’70s drama mixed with a genre movie, just like the film school brats were getting into at the same time; Day is every inch the ’80s cult movie, ready to be quoted and replayed endlessly on VHS for its slick special effects; and now, Land is a ’00s action blockbuster. Romero’s directorial hand is evident at times, but in terms of the pace, action:story ratio, cinematography, CGI splatter, and more, this is easily interchangeable with any other mid-budget mid-’00s genre movie. Apart from that socio-political commentary, that is.

Talking of CG splatter, oh my does that not go down well with some. I like physical effects as much as the next well-adjusted film fan born before the millennium, but surely CGI is just a tool available now, isn’t it? So there’s some CG blood, or some CG-aided zombies — it’s not as if they were using real blood or real zombies before. It allows Romero and his special effects wizards to pull off some things that they haven’t done before, some of which are very effective. And there’s still tonnes of practical effects too! If you want to see people getting ripped apart by zombies with their guts spilling out everywhere, in traditional Romero style, then… seriously, what’s wrong with you people?! But, erm, you should be satiated.

I will unbegrudgingly concede that Land of the Dead is not the pinnacle of Romero’s work, but I do believe it plays in the same league as its predecessors. Just because he’s now working in a ’00s action-adventure framework doesn’t mean Romero has stopped making points about society — how it is, and how it should be — in a way other genre filmmakers aren’t even bright enough to dream of, never mind actually imbue in their work. If more Hollywood cinema could deliver on thematic intent as well as over-expensive effects and explosions, we’d have a far richer mainstream cinema. Hey, how about someone lets Romero direct a superhero movie?

Part of Week of the Living Dead for Halloween 2013.

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. ^

Green Lantern: Extended Cut (2011)

Posted on May 9, 2013 by badblokebob

“Hype” has to be one of the biggest factors in how we view films these days. Technically it’s defined as “extravagant or intensive publicity”, I suppose thereby meaning something to “positive expectation”, but I think it also works the other way: if you’ve heard nothing but awful things about a film, its weakness has been ‘hyped’. It’s this latter point that applies to Green Lantern, which has an almost insurmountable degree of negative expectation attached. To summarise the headline points, it’s got a woeful rating of 26% on Rotten Tomatoes and took just $220m at the international box office, which might sound a lot but barely covers its production budget. So I expected to despise Green Lantern, or at least roll my eyes or twiddle my thumbs at its constant awfulness, but I actually quite enjoyed it.

And that’s why I talk about hype, because my expectation that the film would be irredeemably awful is at least partly why I found it surprisingly enjoyable — a bit like XMO Wolverine, which I didn’t like nearly as much when I watched it again a few years later. I’m not going to try to argue Green Lantern is a great movie, or even that it doesn’t contain significant flaws, but as a comic book-y two-hour diversion, I found it passably entertaining.

For those not in the know, the plot concerns Hal Jordan (Reynolds) finding a dead alien and a ‘magic’ ring that inducts him into a sort of intergalactic police force, the Green Lanterns. Stupid name and concept, attributable to it being a genuine magic thing before being reinvented as alien tech at some point, and perhaps it was the very daft datedness of the idea that (in part) put a mass audience off. But I digress. Cocky jocky Hal is whisked off to the other side of the galaxy to learn how to be a Hero and use his ‘magic’ ring, which can conjure stuff up, then returns to Earth to save it from some menace(s). As superhero origin stories go, at least it’s got a couple of differences.

Hal’s character arc — the cocky guy who’s actually got fears and insecurities due to the death of his father — is actually quite a good one; a neat twist on the usual hero archetypes. So many superheroes have a version of the “loved one died when I was young” thing, but for most it’s motivation to fight rather than a worry that holds them back. But that arc is underplayed almost to the point of being unnoticeable, so when Hal overcomes it in order to save the day, you barely register that he’s overcome anything. Which is a shame, because there was potential in that. You don’t necessarily expect depth of character from a blockbuster, but it does hold it back.

However, the film’s primary problem (at least for me) was a lack of threat; or, rather, a lack of urgency. There’s a great big devourer of worlds out there, but we never get the feeling it’s doing much harm to anyone. I mean, it is, but we don’t feel it. Even at the climax, when it sets course to Earth, it’s more of an understanding that our hero is going to save the planet, rather than a genuine sense of peril that Earth is under assault. Perhaps this stems back to characterisation: some of the cast are likeable enough; the others are bland enough to not be unlikeable; and that leaves us wanting for someone to root for.

There are positives. The action sequences are good, which is a definite plus in this kind of film. The inventiveness with what the ring can do is fun. There’s a lack of relation to the sketchily-drawn characters that stands in the way of us truly engaging with them, and there’s a certain brevity and lack of scale that undersells the alleged threat to Earth (it’s a giant evil space-cloud that can barely cover a few city blocks, let alone the entire planet) — but, that aside, they’re entertaining enough. That said, much as the film pulls its punches with characterisation and threat, so it does with awe and spectacle. The Lanterns’ planet Oa doesn’t have the same impact as Asgard in Thor, yet we’re told several times what a spectacular place it is.

The Blu-ray’s Extended Cut adds exactly 9 minutes and 39 seconds of new content (as ever, details can be found here). This is almost entirely a prelude sequence, showing the death of Hal Jordan’s dad. The sequence serves to flesh out the relationships between Hal, love interest Carol and future-villain Hector a little, but there’s not a lot gained that isn’t learnt elsewhere. It also breaks up the flow. I only watched the extended version in full, but I imagine it’s a smoother transition in the theatrical, rather than pinging back and forth between intergalactic goings-on and bits & bobs on Earth. The only other extension comes when Hal has a chat with his 11-year-old nephew. Conversely, this scene plays much better in the extended cut, and I’m not entirely sure why they felt the need to cut it.

Indeed, I’d say the Extended Cut doesn’t go far enough, with some of the disc’s deleted scenes meriting inclusion. However, the main one occurs on Oa, meaning an effects-heavy scene that hasn’t had CG work done or all the voices recorded, so couldn’t just be dropped back into the finished film as-is. I imagine that’s why it wasn’t. That said, even if they’d done such work, those scenes are minor points, not game-changers.

What an extended cut of Green Lantern should really have done is build character and emotional impact. The plot is decent enough, but the film rattles along and sticks purely to story — we never feel it. It is nice to have a blockbuster effects movie that comes in closer to two hours than three, but they used to be able to make those and have us care. Where’s that ability gone? The only relationship that gets any real screen time is the romantic one, and that’s a damp squib.

I quite enjoyed Green Lantern while watching it. I felt quite positive afterwards. But the more you think about it, the more you spot the lack of depth. Maybe that’s OK — maybe it’s fine for a film to just give passing pleasure while it’s on. It wouldn’t be good if every film operated at that level, but it’s a painless experience now and then. Still, I think there’s a better film lurking in Green Lantern, and it’s a shame it didn’t get the screenwriter(s) or director(s) required to bring it out. It’s even more of a shame that worse films than this have received a kinder critical consensus or huge box office. That leaves some suit feeling vindicated and churning out the same rubbish again, whereas with a bit more effort Green Lantern 2 could’ve been worthwhile.

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