Witchfinder General (1968)

Posted on October 24, 2010 by badblokebob

aka The Conqueror Worm

2010 #104
Michael Reeves | 83 mins | TV | 18

Notorious for having numerous cuts forced upon it by censors, over 40 years after its initial release Witchfinder General — now uncut — seems almost tame. But gore and sadistic violence certainly aren’t the main attractions — there’s a lot more to the film than that.

Though I’m sure it was quite horrific in its day, there’s nothing here to rival the gore or gruesomeness of today’s horror movies; or, indeed, of horror movies being produced in other countries around the same period. Not that I’m advocating censorship, but one advantage to the previous cutting of the film is that it’s been restored from vastly inferior sources (it looks about VHS quality to me), making it possible to note what the censors felt needed removing. It’s interesting that, with only one brief exception, all the cuts are of violence to women, while similar violence towards men remains intact. Very moral.

(There are two ‘complete’ versions available now, often labelled the Director’s Cut and the Export Cut. As usual, Movie-Censorship.com has more details, but there seems to be no difference in violence (despite what IMDb may claim) — the latter merely uses some alternate takes, shot against Reeves’ wishes, featuring needlessly topless wenches. This is the cut shown by the BBC.)

If the violence isn’t disgustingly gory, what’s truly horrific is how real it is. I have no idea if the torture and execution methods are historically accurate (the lead characters were real people but the plot is far from historically accurate), but the opening hanging is nasty due to the woman’s distress, the later burning tortuous because we know that, at some point in history, for whatever reason, this kind of death penalty was dolled out… If it’s horrific or scary it’s down to the threat of violence, or the cynical sadism with which people are tortured, rather than gory special effects (indeed, the blood on display is marvellously fake) or supernatural goings-on (of which there are resolutely none).

In fact, if we’re discussing genre, it’s more like an historical action-adventure, with soldiers dashing around the countryside, horseback chases, bar brawls, ambushes, and the occasional sword fight. If you changed the villain from a witchhunter who tortures and murders in Very Nasty Ways for money, to a dastardly chap who just stabbed people for money, the film would still function and the controversy would instantly evaporate. I’m not saying they should have, because that’s not the point; just that, in structure and (in many places) tone, Witchfinder General is more action-adventure than horror.

Tom Baker (not that one) and director Reeves’ screenplay (adapted from Ronald Bassett’s novel and nothing to do with the inspiration for its US title, Edgar Allan Poe’s poem The Conqueror Worm) adds a surprising amount of depth for either genre. It largely eschews the politics of the era — both the good and bad characters are on the side of Cromwell, the civil war only cropping up to provide period detail or motivation for characters’ movements — instead developing character and thematic interest.

Take hero Richard Marshall’s relationship with his beloved Sara’s guardian uncle, John Lowes. Lowes dislikes both Richard’s cause and his prospects, but is prepared to condone their marriage so Sara can escape the witchfinder’s path. Or the myriad minor characters who are well prepared to do as they’re told, or report people as witches just to get rid of them, often in silent agreement with the witchfinder and/or magistrate that everyone knows these people aren’t guilty of any real crime, but are still prepared to say or do whatever because someone wants rid of them. Thematically, one can read points about the corruption power can bring, in particular abuse of political situations.

Best of all is the witchfinder himself, excellently portrayed by horror stalwart Vincent Price. Indeed, all the credit may lay with him, because it’s his line deliveries and uncertain looks that make the character conflicted early on, a man who may believe he is genuinely doing good for Christian values, but is seduced down darker paths by money, power, lust, and the prospect of revenge. When he allows himself to be lured to Sara’s bedroom as payment for leniency on her uncle, we’re uncertain if he’ll take what’s intended or use her loose ways as proof of witchery. That it’s the former quickly indicates how seriously he takes his espoused Christianity.

In the rest of the cast, Ian Ogilvy makes for a suitably dashing, morally centred hero as Richard, while Robert Russell is equally suited to the part of brutish, loutish, but insightful torturer Stearne.

The picture is nicely shot, with a suitable realism to the locations. Though one of the most horrific things about the whole movie is some of the most dire day-for-night footage I’ve ever seen — it seems to consist of leaving the sky rather bright while everything else is darkened to near-silhouette levels of blackness. It’s even less convincing than that fake blood. I enjoyed the score too. A completely new one was written for the US release, but I presume this was the original because it was slightly calmer and more haunting than one might expect from an action-adventure-horror movie (which I presume was the reasoning for the replacement).

Despite the controversy, Witchfinder General will no longer please the gore-seeking brigade of certain horror fans — no bad thing. While it’s undeniably sadistic in places, it’s appropriate for the dark, realistic theme of the story. It may not be factually accurate, but it conveys well the sense of a dangerous, violent, morally bankrupt era. Its place as a British horror classic is well earnt.

~~Witchfinder General is on BBC Four tonight at 10:10pm.~~
Witchfinder General is on BBC Two tonight, Friday 31st October 2014, at 12:05am.

Angels & Demons: Extended Version (2009)

Posted on October 3, 2010 by badblokebob

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robin Hood: Director’s Cut (2010)

Posted on September 19, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #96
Ridley Scott | 156 mins | Blu-ray | 12

Origin stories are, as we well know, all the rage at the moment, and so Ridley Scott follows in the footsteps of Batman Begins and Casino Royale with his Darker And Grittier™ take on the beginnings of Robin Hood. No lurid green tights or Merry Men here — this is Robin of the Hood as he really was (maybe). Sadly, Scott’s potentially worthwhile effort has become distracted and wandered too far down the wrong path.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with the idea of a grittier, more realistic version of Robin Hood. Many critics seem to have complained that this telling lacked the fun and adventurous spirit of Errol Flynn’s — or even Kevin Costner’s — take on the outlaw hero, but so what? Those versions already exist, and while I’m no more adverse to seeing another equally swashbuckling take on Hood than anyone else who loves the older movies, surely there’s room for a different interpretation, one that hews more closely to (potential) historical fact? No, the idea of doing a gritty take on Robin Hood isn’t where this film falls down.

Certainly, the creation of the world is as top-notch as we’ve come to expect from Scott’s historical epics. Though one might argue the dirty aesthetic and grey cinematography are becoming Real Gritty History™ clichés, when placed in the context of the usual colourful Hood style it does make a change. Whether events are historically accurate (they aren’t), or battle tactics or weapons or clothing or living conditions or politics are spot on, is almost beside the point — this is still a version of Robin Hood, a likely-fictional creation, and so the style is suitably believable, whether it be precisely factual or not.

The problem isn’t the acting, either. Yes, numerous accents are suspect — though, if you think about it, we’re talking about characters living 900 years ago — did a Nottingham accent sound the same then as it does now? Personally (as a Southerner, I should perhaps mention) none of the accents bothered me greatly; I could hear Russell Crowe’s wandering, certainly, but after the first few scenes (when I was specifically listening out for it) I wasn’t distracted.

Whether the rest of his performance is fine is another matter. I think it’s safe to say it lacks the charisma required by Robin Hood, and not just because we’re all familiar with his atrocious real-life antics. Even if it’s not being swashbuckling fun, Robin needs to be a character who can convincingly convince a band of men to step outside the law and pursue ridiculous ends (because notions that the King needs his subjects as much as they need him, and that all men are equal, and that the rich owe the poor, are of course ‘ridiculous’ in context); there are flashes of this from Crowe, but nothing consistent.

The rest of the star-studded cast generally account well for themselves. Cate Blanchett’s Marion is, naturally, a strong-willed, modern, arguably anachronistic woman, but she nonetheless plays it well. As her father-in-law, Max von Sydow is about the only character to generate any significant sympathy, respect, or any other emotion. William Hurt may have overdone everything in Damages recently, but here he’s quite perfectly pitched. Eileen Atkins could probably turn in a good performance in her sleep; the same goes for Mark Strong in a villainous role (it might be nice to see him play a good guy sometime, I’m sure he’s capable). Danny Huston’s King Richard is a nicely revisionist take — not the flawless hero we’re used to seeing — which sadly gets too little screen time. Oscar Isaac’s Prince/King John is suitably brattish and inconsistent, but by playing the part fairly straight he doesn’t come close to being as memorable as Alan Rickman, Keith Allen or Toby Stephens in the key villain’s role.

Almost every other role is under-represented — and here we’re beginning to get to the nub of the film’s problem. There are far, far too many characters. We never get a chance to know any of Robin’s gang, who merrily follow him around with little chance to differentiate themselves. The side of the devils have it worse, offering a shifting array that seems unsettled about who to settle on. The Sheriff of Nottingham, often the main antagonist, is a virtually needless inclusion when there’s King John masterminding things, Sir Godfrey riding about being nasty, and King Philippe of France behind him too. That’s not to mention the ancillary characters that clutter up proceedings.

This needn’t have been a problem — it’s possible to juggle multiple characters, of course it is, though a streamlined set of heroes and villains might’ve been more productive — but the film doesn’t know what to do with them all. Much of the time, what they do is engage in fairly inconsequential political wrangling. Scott makes sure to front-load a big action sequence, and slot in another two at the climax, but in the middle there’s a long stretch where it feels like not much happens. There’s a love story between Robin and Marion, and yet it never feels like we’re seeing them fall in love — after numerous scenes of them doing stuff, they just are. King John ums and ahs about various things, and if we’re being charitable his chief characteristic is ‘changeable’; and if we’re not, he’s a weakly-written, inconsistent character. Do I believe he’d go charging into the fray during the climax? No, I don’t. If he’d gone in when it was virtually over, just so he could later claim he had? Yes, that would fit.

In short, the pace is off. It drags for most of the middle, waiting for something of genuine interest to occur. The climax feels slightly rushed, two action sequences piled on top of each other that, despite a certain scale to both the assault on Loxley and the beach battle, still somehow lack heft. That’s without noting the fact that Marion — predictably and implausibly — turns up for the final fight too. They should have taken a lesson from Peter Jackson shoehorning Arwen into Helm’s Deep only to remove her again — i.e. remove Marion.

Perhaps the pace was actually better in the theatrical cut — ‘character beats’ are the kind of thing that gets chopped out of blockbusters to make them audience-friendly and it’s the long ‘character’ stretches that slow down Robin Hood‘s middle. The Director’s Cut is 15½ minutes longer, a potentially significant chunk that could throw the whole centre of the film out of whack if it’s all piled in there. Still, based on where key sequences fall and so on, I struggle to imagine the theatrical version was that much sprightlier. I may well give it a spin at some point to see if I like it any better. (Unsurprisingly, I can’t yet find anywhere online that details differences between the two cuts.)

I wanted the reviews to be wrong; for Ridley Scott’s Gritty And Realistic™ take on Robin Hood to be worth the potential of the concept. In places, it almost is — the era is evoked stylishly, the battles are largely well-staged if not perfect — but it drags, and ultimately Robin only becomes Robin Hood proper at the film’s end. (In fact, a surprisingly large amount of the trailer was taken from the film’s closing minutes, obviously to imply the usual Robin Hood story.) It’s copied Batman Begins and Casino Royale too precisely in this respect, perhaps. It also makes it feel like nowt but setup for a sequel, over-explaining how (this version of) Robin came to be where he was. As the final card says, “And so the legend begins”.

Scott & co are interested in a sequel, and despite my disappointment I hope they’re given the chance to make it: with all this needless business out of the way, the situations the characters are left in has the door open for a genuinely worthwhile Gritty And Realistic™ take on Robin Hood next time. But with the poor critical reception — and the distraction of two Alien prequels — (though, it should be noted, decent box office), I’m not sure we’ll get such a thing. Shame, because I think that might be the Robin Hood film I so wanted this to be.

Robin Hood is released on DVD and Blu-ray tomorrow.

Max Payne: Harder Cut (2008)

Posted on July 17, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #57
John Moore | 103 mins | Blu-ray | 15

I was a bit of a gamer once. Not an especially hardcore one, but certainly a gamer. And I remember Max Payne, and I remember enjoying it, and I remember thinking it would make quite a good film, and I remember one of the biggest problems being that what made it so unique as a game was the bullet-time feature and what would make it so derivative as a film would be to use bullet-time. But it also had lots of other things going for it: the snow-bound nighttime New York setting, the dark revenge plot, the hard-boiled gravel-toned voiceover.

Luckily, director John Moore doesn’t use Matrix-derived bullet-time visuals, but, despite keeping a snow-bound New York and a revenge plot, he’s somehow managed to also throw out everything that made Max Payne: The Game good. Despite the similarities in plot and setting, this doesn’t feel at all like the game.

Max Payne: The Film, to put it simply, is a load of crap.

I’ll just reel off the bad points:

For something advertised as an action movie — at best, an action-thriller — there’s barely any action. Even the climax, where you might expect a fair bit, is virtually devoid of it. Moore exploits extreme slow motion to stand in for the game’s Matrix-esque combat. Unfortunately, he seems to be under the illusion that a couple of barely-moving slow-mo moments also stand in for a full action sequence. When an action movie can’t deliver any action, there’s a problem.

Instead, the budget seems to have been spent on some angel/demon CGI rubbish. Early on, one begins to wonder if the film’s headed toward Constantine-esque fantasy territory — it’s not in the game, but hey, that’s never bothered Uwe Boll. Eventually it becomes clear it isn’t, these are just some kind of junkie visions. At least, I’m sure they’re meant to be, but I’m not sure the film ever makes that explicit — I wouldn’t blame a casual viewer going away with the sense that these angel/demon/things are actually meant to be there and only the junkies can see them. Which would be just as irrelevant.

Despite this being the “Harder Cut”, it comes across as a PG-13 film playing at being an R. (Though the extended cut was released as ‘unrated’ in the US, the original MPAA rating was an R before a handful of changes needed to get it down to the more bankable PG-13.) It’s now around three minutes longer than the theatrical cut, but from what I can gather a significant chunk of that seems to be made up of people walking around longer. The ‘harder’ bit merely comes from a couple of frames (literally) of violence and the odd bit of CG blood. Presumably the extra walking around is to artificially lengthen the running time and persuade the more gullible that they’re getting a tougher experience.

Mark Wahlberg has all the charisma and emotion of a wooden plank. No one else in the cast can offer anything better, least of all a miscast Mila Kunis. In fairness, it’s not like any of them are given proper characters to work with: most display no kind of arc, and even those that have one — Kunis, for example — are ultimately ignored, the events that might affect them on an emotional level serving only to further what stands in for a plot. Only Max himself is allowed any genuine emotional connection. And by “genuine” I mean some supporting characters we never see again tell us it’s had a real impact on him. Wahlberg certainly doesn’t convey it.

Olga Kurylenko is also in this film. She tries to sleep with the hero and fails, as per usual.

At least some of it looks quite nice. The drifting snow-laden exterior shots are among the few bits of the film that might genuinely be considered good. But when you can get pretty images elsewhere, why suffer through this?

A short post-credits scene suggests a sequel. Why is this buried after the credits? Presumably so as the filmmakers didn’t embarrass themselves more widely by implying they thought this pathetic effort might earn itself a follow-up.

Uwe Boll wanted to get his hands on Max Payne. At times while watching this, I wished he had. You can’t get much more damning than that. Other than, maybe, something witty, like — “maximum pain is certainly what this film will cause you”.

Max Payne featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2010, which can be read in full here.

What price a ‘Definitive Cut’?

Posted on July 12, 2010 by badblokebob

Provoked by, of all things, the Blu-ray release of The Wolfman (this started out as the opening paragraph of my review of that — oh how it grew), I’ve once again been musing on one of my ‘favourite’ topics. No, not “what’s TV and what’s film these days?”, but “which version of a film is definitive these days?”

I apologise if I’ve written extensively on this before; I think I’ve only had the odd random muse in a review, at most. So, much as I got the TV thing out of my system (a bit) in that editorial, here’s an attempt at the “definitive cut” one:

The age of DVD has managed to throw up all kinds of questions about what is the definitive version of a film. Never mind issues of incorrect aspect ratios, fiddled colour timing, or excessive digital processing — these are all potentially problems, yes, but usually quite easy to see where the correct version lies. The question of a ‘definitive version’ comes in the multitude of Director’s Cuts, Extended Cuts, Harder Cuts, Extreme Cuts — whatever label the marketing boys & girls slap on them, Longer Versions You Didn’t See In The Cinema is what they are. But are they better? Or more definitive? Does it matter?

So many consumers hold off for the DVD these days, especially with the added quality offered by Blu-ray, that the old answer of “what was released in the cinema” doesn’t necessarily hold true any more. Filmmakers know some will be waiting for the DVD, so are less concerned with releasing a studio-mandated, shorter, mass audience friendly cut into cinemas when their fuller vision can be found on DVD. Equally, the PR people know that “longer cut!” and “not seen in cinemas!” and other such slogans can help sell DVDs, and so may be forcing needless and unwelcome extensions onto filmmakers. Then there’s all those older directors who think they’re doing a good thing finally getting to tamper with their film 30 years on, who may well be misguided.

Some make it nice and clear for us. Ridley Scott, for example, is particularly good at this: Blade Runner has taken decades to get right, but The Final Cut is quite obviously the last word on this; he was well known to be unhappy with the theatrical version of Kingdom of Heaven, and was vindicated when the aptly-titled (for once) Director’s Cut received much improved reviews; conversely, he’s been very clear that the Director’s Cut of Alien and Extended Cut of Gladiator are not his preferred versions, just interesting alternate/longer edits.

On the other hand, Oliver Stone has now churned out three versions of Alexander [2015 edit: now four], each with significantly differing structures and content. None have received particularly good reviews. Is one the definitive cut? Or is it just a very public example of the editing process; what difference inclusions, exclusions, and structural overhauls can (or, perhaps, can’t) make?

Alexander, the Director's Final Ultimate Cut

The issue is somewhat brushed aside by two things, I think. Firstly, most stuff that suffers this treatment is tosh. Who cares which version of Max Payne or Hitman or Beowulf or either AvP or any number of teen-focused comedies is ‘definitive’ — no one liked them in the first place and they’ll be all but forgotten within a decade or two, at most (well, not AvP, sadly — its connection to two major franchises will see to that).

Secondly, more often than not both versions are available. Coppola may have vowed never to release the pre-Redux Apocalypse Now ever again, but the most recent DVDs [and, later, Blu-rays] include both cuts — listen to him or go with the original theatrical cut, it’s your choice. The same goes for Terminator 2, or indeed a good deal of the rubbish listed above. Rare is the film that doesn’t fit into one of these two camps, or the third “it’s been made clear” one.

So, with all that said, does it even matter? If we can choose which version we prefer, is that the right way to have things? Because, having gone through the options and examples I can think of, it’s not often that there’s not an easy way to resolve it — by which I mean, if the film is good enough to want the clarity of “which version is final”, we tend to have a way of knowing; and if the film’s tosh, well, what does it matter which we choose? There’s every chance no one involved in the production cares anyway.

There remains one argument for clarity, I think. How does one guarantee that, in the future, the ‘correct’ version remains accessible? With new formats always coming along, there’s no assurance that every cut of a film will be released; with TV showings, there’s no assurance the preferred version will always be the one shown (though there’s another argument for how much the latter matters considering they already mess around with aspect ratios and edits for violence/swearing/sex/etc.) But then, even if a filmmaker makes it clear that their preferred version is the one that only came out on DVD/Blu-ray, what chance is there that unscrupulous disc / download / unknown-future-format producers or TV schedulers won’t just revert to the theatrical version by default?

Sometimes one longs for the simpler age of a film hitting cinemas and that being that. We wouldn’t have had to suffer Lucas’ Star Wars fiddles, for one thing. But then nor would Ridley Scott have been able to redeem some of his films, or Zack Snyder treat fans to an improved Watchmen, or Peter Jackson truly complete The Lord of the Rings. If some level of uncertainty is the price we have to pay for these things, then it’s one even my obsessive nature is willing to pay.

There are 20 different films featured in this post’s header image.
Anyone who can name them all wins special bragging rights.

Saw V (2008)

Posted on March 28, 2010 by badblokebob

2010 #34
David Hackl | 91 mins | TV | 18 / R

And so the never-ending Saw franchise trundles on to its fifth part. Indeed, Saw Part 5 might be a more apt moniker for this film: it picks up directly from the end of Saw IV — which, you may remember, took place concurrently with Saw III, ultimately appending about 30 seconds to that film’s climax. Even if you wanted to start your Saw viewing here, you wouldn’t have a hope of following what’s going on.

For a large part, Saw V’s plot is an exercise in retconning. For the uninitiated, “retcon” is short for “retroactive continuity”, essentially the act of adding something to a previous story in a series that changes its meaning or one’s perspective on it or what have you. I believe the term was coined in relation to comics, a medium that commonly has to explain why a dead character’s sudden resurrection really made sense all along, honest. Saw V’s retcon, then, is to demonstrate that Detective Hoffman was Jigsaw’s accomplice throughout all the previous Saw movies, not just the ones that actually featured him. This means yet more flashbacks, which as you may remember were the blight of Saws III and IV.

But what Saw V suffers in backstory it makes up for with simplicity. Whereas IV was convoluted to the point of dullness, Hoffman’s involvement is quite easily depicted. A working knowledge of the preceding films is essential, true, but with that in hand one can actually follow the story easily this time. Indeed, one might even argue it’s too easy: Hoffman’s involvement is so straightforward that the amount of time devoted to it pushes into the realms of the pointless, while the present-time ‘thriller’ thread (where Special Agent Strahm figures it all out) serves barely any function. The film includes the usual standalone game alongside this, but I’ll come back to that in a moment.

One of the franchise’s Big Things has always been the last-minute twist. Signalled by the Saw theme beginning to play and emphasised with an explosion of very brief flashbacks to earlier in the film, the twist shows us what we’ve missed all along and turns the story on its head. The first film had a great one, the second’s was pretty clever, the third had a mixture of good and bad, while the fourth’s got muddled by the rest of the film. Here, we get the music, and the flashbacks, but I swear there wasn’t a single twist among them. Most of the plot was as obvious as it appeared, while what I suppose was meant as a twist in the final room just seemed obvious — I’m sure the viewer is too familiar with Jigsaw’s methods by now to fall for something as simple as that (unlike Strahm, it would seem).

And even after all that retconning and whatnot, it’s clear that the series’ ongoing story is far from over. It’s not just the existence of (at least) two more films that tells us this, nor even a proper cliffhanger (this time, there isn’t one), but a handful of blatantly unresolved plot points. It’s an annoying habit of perennial Saw screenwriters Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan to drop in an element that they have no intention of using in this film, but exists purely to pay off something in the next. This time it’s a box delivered to Jigsaw’s ex-wife. Goodness knows what’s in it; hopefully Saw VI reveals all.

Alongside the incessant arc there’s the usual standalone ‘game’, presumably retained to both guarantee the gore content and hold the interest of anyone dragged along to see the film who hadn’t bothered with preceding instalments. This one isn’t bad but, relegated to a subplot alongside the Hoffman palaver, it’s little more than a sketchily-drawn short film. Some of the traps are inventive, dodging the torture porn levels of gore displayed in III and the gratuitous medical gore of both III and IV without skimping on the blood and guts (literally. Twice.) In fact, it’s this side of the film that holds a bigger and better twist than the highlighted arc plot one, though some viewers may miss its significance as it goes so unheralded. (Arguably this ease with which it might be missed says something about how significant it is; equally, perhaps I’m assuming a lack of intelligence on the part of Saw’s regular audience by implying they would miss it.)

And so Saw lives to fight another day. In some respects this entry is an up-tick in form after the convoluted fourth entry; conversely, it’s perhaps over-simplified, definitely over-reliant on its prequels, and lacks any meat on its plot’s bones — Hoffman assisted Jigsaw, this is how, and that’s all the film has to say. And you know, I can be a bit of wuss when it comes to horror films, but this one isn’t scary in the slightest; gory, unquestionably, but even the jump-scares didn’t make me jump.

Sometimes I feel the Saw series deserves congratulating for trying to be as much a thriller as a gore-fest, for having an on-going plot across all the films rather than just providing standalone identikit Jigsaw-games each entry. Other times, I think I’d quite like the latter, as both the third and fifth films have left me wishing for more of the original story and less of the arc plot. And still other times, it seems a waste of time to be thinking so much about Saw.

Once again I watched the Unrated/Extreme extended cut of Saw V, and once again the differences are numerous but minimal. A thorough list of additions and alterations can be found here, though there’s a briefer overview here.

Blade Runner: The Final Cut (1982/2007)

Posted on December 19, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #58
Ridley Scott | 118 mins | Blu-ray | 15 / R

You don’t need me to tell you about Blade Runner. It’s one of the most popular movies ever, if not with a mass audience then with a significantly-sized cult following and even wider-spread respect. Still, I’m going to go on about it for a bit anyway.

First off let me say that I have seen it before, in the guise of its 1992 Director’s Cut, the only cut available on Home Entertainment/TV since I’ve been old enough to know the film exists, and which is surely to blame for almost every blockbuster getting a Director’s/Extended/Unrated/Ultimate/Complete/etc Cut on DVD these days. Ironic, really, considering it’s a slight misnomer as Ridley Scott wasn’t properly involved with its creation. The Final Cut isn’t fundamentally different to that Director’s Cut, however. Yes, there are an array of editing tweaks and myriad effects fixes, but the meat-and-bones of the story and the content of the scenes — including the removal of the voiceover and the foreshortened ending — remain the same as the Director’s Cut. (If you’re interested in a blow-by-blow account of all the differences between the five cuts now available, try here.)

Normally such minor surface changes wouldn’t warrant a new number on this blog. But this is Blade Runner — or should that be Blade Runner, undeniably one of the most significant films of the last quarter-century thanks to its enduring influence. Yes, it is heavily influenced itself — by the likes of Metropolis and the whole of film noir, primarily — but its dystopian future — all constant night-and-rain, busy streets, neon advertising, canyon-like decrepit skyscrapers towering over dirty streets, high technology rubbing with the everyday detritus of humanity — has been copied everywhere. Without this there’d probably be no Ghost in the Shell, no Dark City, no Matrix, no re-imagined Battlestar Galactica, no thousand other things that have nothing close to the brains but do have the look, the style, the feel. Not to mention Red Dwarf: Back to Earth, of course (he says, as if that has greater significance than the rest!), which sits somewhere between homage and rip-off, surprisingly large chunks of it making almost no sense without at least a passing familiarity with Blade Runner. And the whole thing’s cyclical, because look how The Matrix has gone on to influence countless other lesser efforts. But that discussion is for another time.

In fact, the film can also be seen all over the real world, in what is doubtless the skill of those who predicted its future rather than a genuine influence on Real Life (though you can never be sure). It’s not all true, obviously, but for all the outdated technology (look at the computer displays!) or never-likely technology (flying cars!) there’s an example of the way the world’s headed or already gone. Video phones? Look at Skype, or video inboxes on the iPhone. LA’s skyscrapers, gaudy neon signs, huge video-screen advertisements, rundown areas of the city that are so unrestored they seem to be from decades ago (because they are), the increasingly widespread integration of Eastern culture, photo manipulation available in the home to anyone… it, and more, is all already here, or just around the corner.

But being Surprisingly Accurate does not a popular film make (well, not necessarily), and so of course Blade Runner has a lot more to offer than “ooh, I can do that too!” Putting the future setting aside for a moment, it’s plain to see that the film is as shaped by film noir as by other sci-fi, if not more so. The dark cinematography is perhaps the most obvious area of influence: shafts of light breaking up shadows; imposing cityscapes; constant rain, constant night (with any daytime scenes stuck indoors, often with blinds drawn and/or the light made hazy by smoke). There’s the plot too: it’s packed to bursting with sci-fi concepts underpinned by metaphysical discussions (who is God? what does it mean to be human?), but these are driven by a pure noir narrative, complete with beaten-down reluctant detective (who even loses the final fight), a femme fatale, a questionable moral perspective and a storyline that is predicated on an investigation/manhunt.

That this tale unfurls at a relatively slow pace is surely not to everyone’s taste, but it suits the film’s somewhat intellectual bent. The pacing renders it majestic, stately, both thoughtful and thought-provoking. Even the action sequences tend toward this. This overall languidness frequently allows moments of beauty to leap out, from the visuals, the ideas, the dialogue — Batty’s dying words, for example, are beguiling, elegant and meaningful, mixing the fantastical with an identifiable reality to memorable effect.

The image that most stands out is, appropriately, eyes: the V.K. test, the occasional orange glint in Replicants’ pupils, Batty squeezing out Tyrell’s eyes, the latter’s huge glasses, Pris’ spray-painted eyeliner, Gaff’s odd-looking eyes, and so on. It succinctly reflects the themes of what things seem to be and what they actually are — “seeing is believing”, if you will, although in Blade Runner’s world that clearly isn’t true. The famous photo manipulation scene also feeds into this. One of the great things about the eye motif is that you can’t exactly miss it — the very first thing seen is an extreme close-up of an eye — but it’s obvious not in a batter-you-round-the-head-so-even-the-most-simple-simpleton-will-notice way, but the if-you’re-an-intelligent-viewer-you-shouldn’t-fail-to-spot-it-on-a-repeat-viewing kind of way.

Elsewhere in the filmmaking pantheon, the specials effects are astounding. They look brilliant today, easily besting most of the still-obvious CGI we’re bombarded with. Yes, they’re now aided by some digital clean-up, wire removal and that kind of thing, but the basic models and composites remain untouched and are beautiful. Similarly, Vangelis’ score should by all rights sound dated and discordant, filled as it is with early-80s synths. Fortunately, it has a kind of unusual beauty that matches the visuals it drifts over, complementing as it should rather than providing an uncomfortable reminder of exactly which decade produced the film.

Blade Runner is by any count an incredible piece of work (something the extensive making-of documentary on The Final Cut DVD/BD only emphasises, incidentally). Not everyone will (or does) like it, but I should imagine even they find it hard not to admire (an altogether different thing to “like”). Either way, I think it’s safe to say it can lay claim to a place on the relatively select list of films everyone really must see.

BBC Two are showing Blade Runner: The Final Cut tonight at 9pm.
Blade Runner: The Final Cut is on BBC Four tonight, 26th September 2013, at 10pm.

I covered the 1992 Director’s Cut as part of my 100 Favourites series, here.

Watchmen: Director’s Cut (2009)

Posted on November 26, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #79
Zack Snyder | 186 mins | Blu-ray | 18 / R

This review contains spoilers.

Hitting US Blu-ray so long ago that it’s shameful I haven’t watched it ’til now, and finally arriving in the UK next Monday, the Director’s Cut is Zack Snyder’s final vision of Watchmen: The Movie. The Ultimate Cut (currently available in the US but with no confirmed UK release), which integrates the animated Tales of the Black Freighter into the main feature, is, in Snyder’s words, “an experiment”. Maybe one day he’ll change his mind and say that’s actually his definitive version; I suppose these days — when it seems every major film has a proliferation of different cuts across theatrical release, home entertainment release, and home entertainment re-release — such a thing as a “definitive version” doesn’t necessarily exist. But that’s a debate for another day: for now, this — not The Ultimate Cut, and certainly not the theatrical cut — is Snyder’s Watchmen.

That said, I wouldn’t be inclined to say it’s vastly different to the previously seen version. There are some obvious new scenes and extensions, especially if you’re familiar with the original novel, but ultimately I didn’t find the additional 24 minutes created a vastly different experience. Most of the flaws still remain, from the unfixable — Malin Akerman is somewhat miscast; sometimes episodic storytelling (a largely unavoidable side effect of faithfully adapting a novel that is very much a story in 12 parts, as opposed to a story divided into 12 chunks) — to those that Snyder could potentially have rectified — the alley fight/Manhattan interview crosscutting still doesn’t quite work; Bubastis is inadequately explained; too little time is devoted to the large cast of secondary characters in New York to give Adrian’s plan the same emotional kick it has in the novel; and so on.

By the same token, none of the great bits are ruined, while some are enhanced. Although mostly faithful to the novel, the changes Snyder and co have made are almost all for the better: Rorschach’s “what do you see?” beats the fan-favourite landlady scene (goodness knows why it’s a fan favourite), and Matthew Goode’s slightly built, faintly Germanic Veidt seems a more natural fit for the character now than Gibbons’ more butch version (possibly only in my opinion, that one). Best of all is the modified climax, which retains all the significance of the original but, by changing the way in which it’s brought about, streamlines and tidies up the storytelling. The giant squid is a great comic book image, but this is superior plotting, especially in the abridged form a film adaptation must take.

As for the new bits themselves, some are slightly misguided — Rorschach’s escape from Blake’s apartment, for example, is wholly unnecessary; it shows him injuring a policeman, an incident now referred to over the next few scenes, but we don’t need to see it to follow the references, and showing it gets in the way of the previously perfect match-cut from the Minutemen photo in Blake’s apartment to the same one in Hollis Mason’s. By and large, however, the extensions add depth via little lines and moments. The most noticeable are a better building of Laurie’s backstory, and Hollis Mason’s death. The latter is a little ancillary to the main plot, its excision from the theatrical version easily justified to keep the running time down, but in itself is a well-played and tragic scene that adds further resonance to the end of Dan’s story.

Whatever you thought of Watchmen after the theatrical cut, this extended version is likely to change your opinion no more than any other re-viewing would. That said, with a little extra room to breathe and a few worthwhile extensions, and in spite of the odd tweak that doesn’t work, this is the superior cut of the film.

Most of the comments in my lengthy review of the theatrical cut still stand, so I invite you to read it here.

Watchmen: Director’s Cut 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.

Ashes of Time Redux (1994/2008)

Posted on November 14, 2009 by badblokebob

aka Dung che sai duk redux / Dong xie xi du zhongji ban

2009 #71
Wong Kar-wai | 90 mins | TV | 15 / R

A wandering man with magic wine and no memory; a clan prince who’s also his beloved sister; a master swordsman who’s almost blind; his wife, who loves his best friend; a persistent peasant girl after revenge for her little brother, with only eggs for payment; a young swordsman with no shoes and a camel; a large gang of bandits with a left-handed member; and a desert-dwelling problem solver who connects them all. Oh if only Ashes of Time were as simple as that sounds.

Despite apparently being an Eastern action movie — it’s in the wuxia genre, which, for the uninitiated, also covers the likes of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and House of Flying Daggers — Ashes of Time isn’t what one would typically expect from such a billing. Reviews talk about it being a confusingly-plotted art film — and those are the positive ones — which, coupled with my relative dislike of Chungking Express, meant I didn’t really expect to like it a great deal. But I found myself surprised, because I really enjoyed it.

For one thing, I followed the plot right to the end, though the final fifteen minutes throw up a series of twists to rival any thriller. I don’t claim to understand every nuance of every character, the meaning of every event, exactly how everything is connected (assuming it is), or what it’s really all about… but based on what I’ve read, even following it is an achievement on a first viewing. I felt more or less the same way at the end of The Big Sleep, and the trick here is the same: pay attention. Yes, this requires some effort on the part of the viewer — I was aware of myself paying close attention throughout in order to follow and comprehend the story, more so than in most films (even discounting easily-followed mainstream-aimed efforts). An awareness of this need for hyper-attentiveness from the get-go (which, as I say, I had thanks to perusing a couple of reviews) is likely to aid the viewer (which, as I say, it did me).

The story itself, then, is quite episodic. There’s some overlap, but in general characters come and go from the problem solver’s home in a parade, rarely interacting with one another. Each individual piece explores a different facet of a similar theme — “anecdotes about chivalric swordsmen”, as the Radio Times puts it — which serves to tie them together, alongside other plot elements and character points — several have wives in love with others, for example, while others have left their wives at home and one has been followed by his.

Wong (again, so I read) broke ground within the genre by prioritising emotion over action. Therefore potential viewers shouldn’t expect the abundant martial arts/swordplay the genre often provides. If Hero was too arty for you (as it was for me first time round), then this will almost certainly be beyond the pale. Despite the paucity of action — despite several stories concerning assassination and death, the actual act isn’t the point in the slightest — when it does turn up (the first significant sequence is halfway through) it’s excellent; effectively, if differently, done.

Indeed, the film is beautifully shot; perhaps not as obviously as Hero’s colour-coded vibrancy, but there are frequent moments that dazzle and I can’t recall a single weak visual. Wong mucked about with the colours as part of his reduxing, to the reported distaste of cinematography Christopher Doyle, but it still looks stunning throughout.

Wong’s 2008 redux included not only these tweaks to the visuals, but also modifications to the audio and losing seven minutes from the original cut. I’ve never seen it so can’t compare, though some reports claim the changes helped clarify the plot. For the curious, a catalogue of differences can be found here. Equally, those after better-informed reviews might like to read DVD Times’ coverage, with Noel Megahey on the DVD and John White on the BD, and Heroes of the East’s review of both cuts.

Having pointed you toward those wise reviewers, let me just say that Ashes of Time Redux is not your typical wuxia film and not for everyone. My enjoyment of it came as something of a surprise, which is always nice.

Film4 are showing Ashes of Time Redux tonight at 1:05am.

Saw IV (2007)

Posted on October 31, 2009 by badblokebob

2009 #62
Darren Lynn Bousman | 92 mins | DVD | 18 / R

This review contains minor spoilers.

Saw IV is the final film in the series directed by Bousman, and will also be my jumping off point (for the time being). According to IMDb (which I presume is sourced from a commentary or something), Bousman had been intending to depart after Saw III, but was persuaded to stay when a twist in the fourth film’s script managed to surprise him, something he thought the franchise was by then incapable of. But do not let this get your hopes up, dear reader, because Saw IV lacks any twists that even come close to those in the preceding films. What caused Bousman to continue is a mystery, and some viewers will inevitably feel the same way about continuing with the series themselves.

After the overly gory third film, Saw IV returns to the franchise’s roots by playing more like a thriller than a horror film — even more so than the previous instalments, one might argue, as aside from a couple of jumps and a few instances of gore, the story and its key sequences move forward via police investigation, endless flashbacks and copious twists. The Saw franchise should be applauded for trying to be more than just another slasher series, but needs to learn the value of restraint in other areas.

The plot, for example, is incredibly complicated. This could be a good thing — it’s rare for the fourth film in a franchise, especially a horror one, to demand so much from its audience — and the viewer not only has to pay attention to the events on screen, but have a pretty good awareness of those from the last two films as well. Despite its complications, such connectedness is actually a reason to retain hope for the franchise, because it really tries to be about more than just how graphically it can slaughter people.

Unfortunately, any effort on the part of the viewer isn’t rewarded. Saw IV is too complex, ultimately descending into the realms of incomprehensibility. There are around four different plot threads, at least two of them jumping around in time like a TARDIS with ADD. Goodness knows how many different time zones are included, how many of them progress in a linear fashion, and whether or not they actually have any bearing on each other. Even references to previous films are confused: while this clearly begins some time after the end of Saw III, it then jumps back before Saw III, and then during Saw III, and then with Saw III, and then after Saw III again… but not as far after it as that opening scene. And that’s just the main plot.

A lot of the complexity is in aid of answering hanging questions from Saw II and, especially, III, but the mass of backstory leaves you wishing for a standalone ‘Test of the Film’ plot, which the first three essentially are. As already expressed, such an intricate array of stories is not necessarily a problem, but neither new writers Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan nor director Bousman have the required skill to guide the audience through such dense material. Nor the experience to know when less can be more, clearly.

Fortunately, Bousman seems to have learnt that “less is more” with the deaths. After the excess of Saw III, the gore feels pared back here. The one notable exception is an entirely extraneous autopsy that opens the film, which goes beyond the last entry’s brain surgery in the gruesome stakes. Apparently it’s to prove Jigsaw is unquestionably dead, but it does it with more glee and explicit medical detail than necessary.

Elsewhere, however, the savagery shortage is welcome — except that, in the process, Bousman seems to have misplaced the tension present in the first two films. The only real suspense is an opening trap that is, again, almost entirely extraneous to the rest of the plot, although one trap later on — featuring an abusive husband pinned to his wife — is moderately ingenious, achieving Jigsaw’s proclaimed ideas of apt justice in ways many previous traps failed to.

And what of Jigsaw this time? He may be dead, but instead we’re treated to flashbacks of John Kramer’s pre-Jigsaw life. As you may remember from my complaints in Saw III, revealing more about our villain is, in this case, not a good idea. Seeing Kramer before he was an Evil Bad Guy is clearly an attempt to make him a real person, one inspired to engage in a killing spree by every-day, real-life events. As with the other thriller elements, grounding the villain in the real world — and trying to give him plausible, relatable motivation — sets the Saw series apart from the vast majority of other horror franchises. But there’s no need to understand Jigsaw, and the more we learn about him the less impact he has. His soul is laid bare here, but by trying to make his actions plausible it continues to strip away the mystery and highlights how ludicrous his traps are in reality — they work fine in the conceit of a horror movie, but trying to imply it’s a real person doing these in the real world is one suspension of disbelief too far.

Which kind of sums up the film, really. Saw III went too far with its gore, and now Saw IV goes too far with its plot. As the series rattles on to its fifth instalment (and this year’s sixth, and next year’s seventh, and at least an eighth beyond that), its only hope for regaining a decent level of quality — in my opinion, of course — is to keep the gore at a manageable level, and keep the storytelling at one too.

Technically I watched the Unrated/Extreme extended cut of Saw IV. The differences are numerous but ultimately minimal. Those desiring a full list of alterations can find one here.

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