The Extraordinary Voyage (2011)

Posted on October 14, 2013 by badblokebob

aka Le voyage extraordinaire

2013 #3
Serge Bromberg & Eric Lange | 64 mins | DVD | 16:9 | France / English & French

Documentary about the life and work of Georges Méliès, with particular attention to A Trip to the Moon, which then moves on to discuss how the hand-coloured print was rediscovered and the various attempts at restoring it.

It’s an informative piece, respectful of Méliès’ genius but not stopping short of detailing the later tragedies that befell him and his work. I suppose some might accuse it of being a hagiography, but I don’t think it’s so blunt. Praise comes from interviewees like Jean-Pierre “Amélie” Jeunet, Michel “Eternal Sunshine” Gondry, and Michel “The Artist” Hazanavicius.

The section on the restoration of A Trip to the Moon is perhaps even more fascinating. The colour print that was discovered was in terrible condition, and the restoration process was far from a straightforward scan-it-and-tweak-it. Various methods were tried, mistakes were made, and the documentary details them in fascinating, occasionally wince-inducing detail. Méliès created magic when he made these shorts, and now equally incredible digital magic is conjured to make them shine again.

The Extraordinary Voyage accompanies A Trip to the Moon on DVD (or, if you fancy spending a small fortune, Blu-ray), but arguments that it goes beyond a mere ‘special feature’ are worth hearing. It’s a worthy biography/tribute to a cinematic force whose influence is still felt today, coupled with the extraordinary story of how his supremacy is being preserved.

The Imposter (2012)

Posted on August 22, 2013 by badblokebob

Some films benefit from knowing as little as possible going in; some are at their best when you know nothing at all. But that’s pretty much impossible — unless you go purely on someone’s “you’ll like this, trust me” recommendation about a film you’ve never even heard of, you’ll be aware of something. Normally this comes from a review or blurb, and you just have to trust that the reviewer or copywriter was kind enough to keep it spoiler-free.

BAFTA-winning drama-documentary The Imposter is a definite case of the less you know the better, and yet it’s been quite widely praised and pushed so that if you’ve heard of it you probably know what it’s about. Documentaries need that more than fiction films, because they have to fight to ‘cross over’. It’s arguable that Catfish suffered from the same problem of having to reveal too much in order to attract attention. But Catfish had the advantage that its Big Twist was at the end, meaning it went largely unspoiled — The Imposter’s is right at the start. I suppose this is because it’s a fairly well-documented news event (at appropriate junctures, the film is littered with clips from American media coverage), but also because it’s such an implausible story you have to be honest about it upfront.

So here’s what the film lets you in on in the opening moments: in 1993, 13-year-old Nicholas Barclay went missing in Texas. In 1997, a boy claiming to be him surfaced… in Spain. He had Nicholas’ tattoos, but he had a French accent and the wrong colour eyes. And yet the first relative to see him, Nicholas’ older sister, gave a positive ID, and upon returning to America he was accepted into the family. Why did they take in such an obvious fraud?

The blurb on the DVD/Blu-ray cover will also tell you that much. And the thing is, the film is basically that story in more detail. There’s more at the end of it, of course — when the FBI get involved; when deeper questions get asked about what really happened to Nicholas — but for a good long while it’s putting flesh on the bones of a story you’ve already had sketched. While that has its plus points (just how a set of events so ridiculous you wouldn’t buy them in a fiction came to pass is naturally a fascinating tale), there’s the odd bit of thumb-twiddling while you wait for it to get to the inevitable.

For me, this was hindered rather than helped by Bart Layton’s flashy direction. This doesn’t look like your standard documentary (even the talking heads have a different visual feel), to the point where the line between archive footage/audio and dramatic recreation is blurred. It’s quite a straightforward retelling — Layton doesn’t indulge in the game of dramatising a lie only to reveal it was indeed a lie — but, nonetheless, it makes the documentary itself feel untrustworthy, just like its participants. Is that an intended effect? Arguably the film’s main theme is lies — the lies we tell ourselves, the truths we want to believe; confirmation bias, perhaps, though that term is never mentioned — but the documentary itself never lies to us… I don’t think. It just feels like it might be.

The story comes alive in the last half hour or so. Early on it is fascinating how fake-Nicholas sets the ball rolling, but then you just wait for everyone to cotton on. As things begin to unravel, however, the story moves in a slightly different direction — in my opinion, a more engrossing one, because it’s an area of the tale that isn’t covered in the blurb! Unfortunately, it has no definite ending. This is real life, that happens, and the objectivity of not forcing a conclusion or pushing an agenda is to the documentary’s favour; but it’s nonetheless a smidgen unsatisfying.

There’s no doubting The Imposter tells a bizarre and fascinating tale, but at times I felt it was one that might be better served through a solid Sunday supplement article than a feature-length documentary film. Layton’s over-eager style also grated occasionally, particularly when it drew attention to itself over the story it was trying to tell. Perhaps he better belongs in fiction filmmaking? Perhaps that’s where he wants to go in future: as the poster prominently tells us, this is “from the producer of Man on Wire”, a film whose director went on to helm Red Riding 1980 and IRA thriller Shadow Dancer, so there’s a pathway there.

Still, for its faults, The Imposter is a tale worth hearing — a tale so unbelievable, it can only be true.

The UK TV premiere of The Imposter is on Channel 4 tonight at 9pm.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Posted on June 10, 2013 by badblokebob

September 1881: after admiring their leader for years through cheap magazine stories, 19-year-old Robert Ford manages to hook up with the James Gang. Little does he suspect that, just seven months later, he will be responsible for the murder of his idol, Jesse James. (That’s not a spoiler, it’s in the title.)

Ultimately released in 2007, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford found itself going head-to-head in the awards season with No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. The accepted narrative of that time is about the two-horse-race between the latter two, though Jesse James fits with them in some kind of thematic and stylistic triumvirate: they’re all products of what I’d call “American mainstream art house” cinema; all classifiable as Westerns, though none in a strictly traditional sense; all more concerned with their characters and their lives than the machinations of the plot. In the end, No Country garnered most of the awards, There Will Be Blood seems to have settled in as a critical darling, but, for my money, this purest Western of the three is by far the best.

I’m not going to waste much time making direct comparisons between the three films. I suspect there’s an article in that, if someone hasn’t written it already, but it’s not one I have much interest in penning: I don’t think I’ve made much secret of my distaste for the Coen and Anderson efforts in this little threesome, both being films I never really engaged with and certainly didn’t enjoy (in fairness, I should give Blood a second shot, but even the idea of sitting through No Country again makes me shudder). The Assassination of Jesse James, however, is a film I both engaged with and enjoyed greatly.

Let’s be clear, though: this is not a film for everyone. This is not an action movie set in the Wild West, which might be what’s expected from a Hollywood studio movie starring Brad Pitt. Apparently director Andrew Dominik intended to make a film with a Terence Malick vibe, so I read after viewing, which chimed with me because “Malick-esque” was one of my foremost thoughts during viewing. This is a slowly-paced two-hours-and-forty-minutes, with more shots of crops blowing gently in the breeze or riders approaching gradually over distant hills as there are flashes of violence. Despite what the studio wanted, this is not a fast-paced action Western, it’s a considered, sometimes meditative, exploration of character and theme.

The character explored is not particularly Jesse James, but Robert Ford. As the latter, Casey Affleck was largely put forward for Supporting Actor awards, which does him a disservice — the film is largely told from Ford’s perspective, and though there are asides where it follows James or other members of the gang, it begins with Ford’s arrival and ends with his departure from this world. Affleck is superb in a quiet but nuanced performance, which I would say ranges wildly without ever appearing to change. At times he is cocky and self-sure, at others cowardly and defensive, often creepy and occasionally likeable, sometimes both worldly and naïve, a perpetual wannabe who even when he achieves something is still poorly viewed. You might think the title is stating its position on him, but it really isn’t — it’s a position to be considered, a point of contrast to the man’s motives and actions; a statement that is in fact a question.

Conversely, Pitt’s Jesse James is closer to a supporting role. We see him primarily through the eyes of others; he is distant, unknowable, his moods and actions unpredictable thanks to years of law-dodging that’s led to a paranoia about his own men — not all of it misplaced. Jesse’s mood swings are more obvious than Ford’s, but Pitt makes them no less unlikely. At times charming and a clear leader, at others he is a genuinely tense, frightening presence, without ever needing to resort to the grandstanding horror-movie grotesques offered by (Oscar winners) Daniel Day-Lewis and Javier Bardem in There Will Be Blood and No Country respectively.

Though there are other memorable and striking performances — particularly from Sam Rockwell, Paul Schneider, and a pre-fame Jeremy Renner; plus a precise, perfectly-pitched, occasional voiceover narration from Hugh Ross (who doesn’t have many credits to his name but surely deserves some more now) — the third lead is Roger Deakins and his stunning cinematography. There are many clichés to use for good-looking films, and the vast majority of the time they are trotted out as what they are and not really meant. Jesse James, however, is one most could be applied to with total accuracy. For example, there are very few — if any — films where you could genuinely take any frame and hang it as a perfect photograph; but if there is one where you could, this is it.

Deakins has reportedly said that “the arrival of the train in darkness is one of the high watermarks of his career”, and he’s right to think that. It’s a glorious sequence, made up of several shots where every one is perfectly composed and lit to create a remarkable ambience and beauty, as well as telling the story, which in this instance involves as much creation of suspense as eliciting pure artistic appreciation. Deakins did take home a few awards for his work here, but not the Oscar. I can’t remember which film did win and, frankly, I don’t care, because whichever it was this outclasses it by miles.

This must also be thanks in part to director Andrew Dominik. Every last shot feels precisely chosen and paced. Of course, every shot in every film has been chosen and placed where it is, but the amount of thought that’s gone into that might vary. Jesse James somehow carries extra weight in this department, with no frame in its not-inconsiderable running time wasted on an unnecessary angle or take that’s allowed to run even a second too long. Somewhat famously, there was a lot of wrangling over the film’s final cut (delaying its release by a year or more), with the aforementioned debate between something faster and something even slower: a four-hour version screened at the Venice Film Festival, to a strong reception. Sadly, the intervening years haven’t seen that cut, or any of its parts, resurface (to my knowledge). That’s an hour and twenty minutes of material and I’d love to know what’s in them.

One thing in there, I’d wager, would be the performances of Mary-Louise Parker and Zooey Deschanel. Both their characters have a tiny presence in the finished product, and while that may be fine for the overall story (some would criticise how much female characters are sidelined, but that’s another debate), casting two moderately major actresses creates a disjunct with the size of their roles. I was going to say this is one of the film’s few flaws, but it’s debatable if it even qualifies as that: if they’d cast less recognisable faces, their lack of presence would pass by unnoticed.

The other thread I mentioned, seven paragraphs ago, was “theme”. The film has a lot of concurrent aspects one might consider — “loyalty” being a major one, for instance — but I think the biggest is “celebrity”. Not in the modern sense, though I’m sure there are analogies for those that wish. To pick up on what I was saying before: Ford is the main character, and the main thing he wants, even if he doesn’t realise it, is fame. He joins the James Gang because he’s enamoured with the adventurous tales he’s read; because he’s obsessed with the notoriety of Jesse. Later, once the titular deed is done, he becomes an actor (not without talent, as the narration informs us) and re-performs the act that made him famous hundreds of times. It’s his legacy, however, to not be as well-remembered as his victim; to not be as well-liked, even; not even close. There’s something there about the pursuit of fame for its own sake, if nothing else.

It’s difficult to call any film “perfect”. Certainly, there would be plenty of viewers who would consider The Assassination of Jesse James to be an overlong bore. Each to their own, and I do have sympathy with such perspectives because there are acclaimed films that I’ve certainly found to be both overlong and boring. Not this one, though. From the constant beauty of Deakins’ cinematography, to the accomplished performances, to the insightful and considered story (not to mention that it’s been cited as the most historically accurate version of events yet filmed), there are endless delights here. As time wears on and awards victors fade, it deserves to elbow its way back into the debate for the best film of the ’00s.

The UK TV premiere of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is on ITV4 tonight at 10pm. It’s screening again tomorrow at 11pm.

It placed 3rd on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2013, which can be read in full here.

Tombstone (1993)

Posted on December 1, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #5
George P. Cosmatos | 119 mins | TV | 16:9 | USA / English | 15 / R

The story of the OK Corral is one I know by name only; I haven’t even seen the Doctor Who serial about it. I shan’t be doing a comparison of this to the numerous other cinematic retellings then, though such ground was already superbly covered a couple of years back at Riding the High Country (for a belated entry and full set of links, look here; the piece on Tombstone is here).

Not knowing more than the name, and a few key players, I fully expected the gunfight at said corral to be the story’s climax. Maybe it is in other versions, but here it comes about halfway through. It’s the pivot around which the story turns, however, with the first half building to it and the second handling its consequences. It may not be the climax, but it’s still the key incident.

Much of the film is driven by its characters, I felt, more so than the fights or plots that they embroil themselves in; though it’s still suitably enlivened by action, both dramatic and violent. It’s populated by a helluva cast — lots of recognisable faces, even if some weren’t yet names at the time. Val Kilmer is undoubtedly the stand-out. He starts off by giving a deliciously camp performance, but unveils layers as Doc Holliday’s story unfolds. Other notable performances come from lead Kurt Russell and villain Michael Biehn, though the latter is slightly shortchanged by having to share villain duties with an unremarkable Powers Boothe.

That may be down to historical accuracy. There’s a distinct feeling of veracity to proceedings, and as I understand it a concerted effort was made in that regard. The Movies perhaps shouldn’t worry about sticking too closely to fact (if you want an accurate lesson, read a textbook), but when they can manage to be both factually accurate and entertaining, it’s all the better. Cosmatos & co appear to balance this well.

Tombstone was released after the revisionist Unforgiven, but it doesn’t feel like it. Somehow it’s more traditional, almost like it was made in the ’70s or ’80s — not to the extent of portraying a simplistic “white hats good, black hats bad” mentality of earlier eras, but with less of the ’90s gloss or awareness that might be perceived, through contrast, in Eastwood’s Oscar-winner. Not that there’s anything wrong with that — I liked it very much.

This review is part of the 100 Films Advent Calendar 2012. Read more here.

Serpico (1973)

Posted on October 29, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #30
Sidney Lumet | 125 mins | TV | 1.85:1 | Italy & USA / English | 18 / R

Before Murder on the Orient Express or Dog Day Afternoon, Sidney Lumet directed this true story about a New York cop battling corruption.

Noting it’s a true story, it certainly has a biographical feel. That came as a bit of a surprise, to me at least — I was expecting a thriller about a good cop exposing the corrupt ones, but instead got Frank Serpico’s life story from the time he left training on. It’s not as if it just deals with his professional career — say, showing how his early days formed his moral compass, or something — there’s lots of screen time devoted to his personal relationships too, which may or may not have been relevant to his work. More than a corrupt cop thriller, it’s a biopic about someone involved in that world.

This focus on reality begs one question: just how much is it based in the truth? It makes an uncommonly high claim to reality by including all this near-extraneous detail, but typically “true life” stories, especially those made quickly after the real events, fictionalise things for one reason or another. It wouldn’t matter if it didn’t effect the quality of the film, but I think it does: it feels a bit sloppy at times; kind of disjointed. The timeline jumps forward almost at random; things occasionally seem to go by half explained; there’s no clear throughline… This all plays into the feeling of it being like real life, where nothing — certainly not a police investigation — is as simple or straightforward as it’s usually made out to be for the movies. Which has its pros and its cons.

As the titular copper, it’s a typically strong performance from Al Pacino. Not his best work — I don’t think the part really gives him enough to deliver that — but he’s more often than not the most engaging element of the film. This was his fifth film; considering The Godfather was just his third, and he followed this up with Part II and Dog Day Afternoon, it’s easy to see why he’s long been regarded as a Great Actor.

I feel like Serpico used to come up fairly often as a minor classic; the kind of film not a lot of people have seen these days but many more should have; but I don’t feel like I hear it mentioned any more. Obviously this is just a perception and maybe it’s a load of rubbish, but I’m afraid I side a little more with the latter-day less-mentioned side of things.

I would say it feels rather worthy, at least in part for the things I’ve mentioned about its claims to truth. It’s an interesting, sometimes compelling film, but I wouldn’t say I enjoyed or liked it. “Enjoy” is an awkward word — you wouldn’t typically say you “enjoy” Schindler’s List, but you do (you could say) enjoy its greatness. I didn’t enjoy Serpico in the way you would typically say you enjoyed something; nor did I enjoy it in a Schindler’s List way; nor did I really admire it, again for the reasons levelled above. But it has elements of interest nonetheless.

Burke & Hare (2010)

Posted on August 24, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #20
John Landis | 88 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | UK / English | 15 / R

This is a true story
Except for the parts that are not

As an opening title card, you’d have to go some way to beat that. It’s also very apt: John Landis’ return to feature directing after a twelve-year break is based on real events (a pair of Irish grave robbers who operated in Edinburgh in the 1820s), but it takes massive liberties with what really happened, particularly the ending (but I won’t spoil that here). There’s no real surprise in that — it’s quite hard to make a comedy out of real-life serial killers, I should think.

And it is funny. Well, quite funny. It’s amiably light rather than laugh-out-loud hilarious. The titular characters are played by Simon Pegg and Andy Serkis, one who has a pedigree for comedy and one who doesn’t so much, but both are solid. Pegg’s role was originally to be played by David Tennant (he had to pull out due to commitments to an ultimately-cancelled US TV series). I like Tennant, but the replacement was probably for the best — Pegg plays up the comedy without overdoing it, and handles the slightly dramatic stuff well too, whereas I fear Tennant might have over-egged both for this film’s particular tone. Or maybe not, who knows.

As seems to be the case fairly often these days (I feel like I’m noting it in more and more reviews, anyway) there’s a host of famous cameos and recognisable faces. This time I won’t ruin it by listing them, but there’s a regular stream to look out for.

I sense there’s a serious movie to be made about the real Burke and Hare… though I believe there are several others, so maybe one of them does it well. This won’t serve anyone as a history lesson, but then that’s not its job. As a knockabout black comedy, it works well enough. I think I’ve given probably-lesser comedies higher scores before now, but in a renewed spirit of trying to be more accurate — and maybe less forgivingly generous — this gets

Unstoppable (2010)

Posted on August 21, 2012 by badblokebob

In tribute to the late Tony Scott, perhaps one of my favourite filmmakers, and normally a distinctly underrated one, 100 Films’s 600th feature review is of his final film…

2012 #17
Tony Scott | 94 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | USA / English | 12 / PG-13

Tony Scott teams up with Denzel Washington for the fifth time to tell the (kinda) true story of a runaway train with the potential to cause massive destruction.

One of the first questions provoked by any ‘true story’ movie is, “how truthful is it?” And the appropriate answer is, “does it matter?” The main thing here is the same as in most of Scott’s movies: a good ride. As an action-thriller take on real-life, naturally much of what occurs has been fabricated for the movies — generally, the more exciting bits. It’s “inspired by” a real incident from 2001, not a factual re-telling of it. And as it’s a movie not a documentary, that’s fine.

Scott certainly knows how to direct some action. Here he reins in the crazy editing and grading effects of Man on Fire and Domino, but keeps a tense, restless roving camera. The attempts to stop the train are suitably nail-biting and exciting in equal measure. It’s still got that modern, digital intermediate, genre-based colour wash going on though: its a thriller, so of course all the photography is spun from ‘natural’ towards either ‘steely blue’ or ‘metallic green’ depending on location.

For all the excitement, and a brief running time of just over an hour and a half, it could do with being a bit quicker at the start. The time spent establishing character helps our emotional investment later, but even just five minutes trimmed from the fairly sedate first half-hour would help matters. It’s not as if it’s an actors’ film either, though the three leads sell their characters with ease. Chris Pine and Washington seem to have a chemistry that works, even if their roles — the know-it-all young hothead and the experienced about-to-retire old-timer — are as stock as they come. Also look out for Kevin Dunn playing the kind of role (condescending middle-management ‘bad guy’) he always plays.

Nor is it a film with a message, although mention of redundancies coupled with the imagery of an uncontrollable runaway train means there’s something to be read in there about the state of the economy.

Although the Rotten Tomatoes summary describes it as “Tony Scott’s best movie in years”, that might not be saying much coming off the back of critical flops like Domino, Deja Vu and The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3. It’s not his best work, of that I think we can be certain, but it shows a director still capable of crafting a compelling story that delivers thrills alongside solid if familiar characters, and feels cutting-edge without resorting to tired shakeycam confusion.

Ridley Scott may get all the awards and honours, because, as Tony once described them, he is “classical” while Tony is “rock and roll”; but for my money the younger Scott brother’s influence on movies will be just as sorely missed. I think Ron Howard put it best: “No more Tony Scott movies. Tragic day.”

Ip Man (2008)

Posted on February 23, 2012 by badblokebob

aka Yip Man

I liked Ip Man, but as we know from experience there are times when I find myself with little to say about a film, or I fail to make any notes, and this was an example of both. So I’ve decided to try something a little different.

I’ve read several different reviews of the film, found by various means, and have compiled a selection of quotes from them below. These are all segments of those reviews that I agree with or found to be an interesting point — I’m not trying to accurately represent each reviewer’s opinion, but instead using their words to enlighten my own. Each quote is, of course, credited and linked, so if you want to know their full opinion you can click through.

They’re arranged in an order that I think makes sense, too — by which I mean, rather than just bundle a selection of quotes in any old order, I’ve sorted them so that if you read them through as presented they should form a structured (more or less) piece.

And so:

Biographical martial arts drama starring Donnie Yen. China in the 1930s: Ip Man’s reputation as a martial arts master has brought fame and fortune to the city of Foshan. But hard times are ahead, as the Japanese invasion brings the once prosperous city to its knees.

– Radio Times

Donnie Yen plays the eponymous Wing Chun master, who stove off hunger, poverty and half the Japanese army during China’s WW2 occupation – by kicking ass!

– Matt Giasby, Total Film

Though that’s an amusing thought, the film’s not quite that simplistic:

As he rallies his people to stand up for themselves, Ip Man becomes about how war pushes a peaceful man into action, but also how he tries to maintain his faith in what it means to be civilized.

– Noel Murray, AV Club

Ip’s transformation from diffident bourgeois to symbolic man of the people is rendered as compelling period melodrama

– Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com

There’s a pleasing playfulness about the opening scenes, which contrast… with the downbeat mood that follows during the occupation.

– Jamie Healy, Radio Times

Not everyone was so impressed:

In transforming a humble real-life martial artist into the type of the reluctant hero (and nationalist icon), screenwriter Edmond Wong has turned his subject not only into something that he was not, but also into an overfamiliar kung fu movie cliche. This is an impression not helped by the film’s desaturated period look (yet another cliche), and a drift in the second, war-set half towards melodrama

– Film4

a shameless hagiography that only bears a passing resemblance to history.

– Dan Jolin, Empire

To elucidate:

The presence of young Zhun [Ip Man’s son] suggests an eyewitness veracity to the events as portrayed on-screen — after all, Zhun himself, now a much older man and a wing chun master in his own right, served as a consultant on Ip Man. The film, however, does not hesitate to sacrifice the truth to the demands of dramatic entertainment.

– Film4

almost none of what you see in Ip Man actually happened, and in some sense that’s too bad, because the real Ip sounds like a fascinating figure. He was a pre-revolutionary police officer, a reported opium addict, and a refugee who fled the Communist takeover in 1949 for a new life in British Hong Kong. But all those factors make him undesirable as the hero of a work of rousing nationalist agitprop. So instead we get Yen’s remarkable performance as a man of prodigious Buddhist-Confucian composure and tranquility, who goes from wealth to poverty to near-slave status, and finally must fight a public gladiatorial match against a sinister Japanese general

– Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com

disappointingly simplistic. Yip, Wong, and Yen never develop any real tension between Ip’s true story and the exaggerated myth-making of a martial-arts movie. But as an exaggerated, myth-making martial-arts movie, Ip Man is often thrilling.

– Noel Murray, AV Club

True-to-life or not, action star Donnie Yen largely shines in the lead role:

Donnie Yen delivers a charismatic portrayal of Ip Man, the martial arts master of the title.

– Derek Adams, Time Out

Man is the role Yen was made to play: a stoic tough guy that everybody in the community knows is the best

– Simon Abrams, New York Press

Yen’s performance is also a bit one-dimensional as the modest wing chun expert, but at least he gives a good account of himself in the finely composed and inventive close-combat scenes — an impressive highlight being when he wipes the floor with ten soldiers with methodical precision.

– Jamie Healy, Radio Times

Indeed, fighting is still what the film does best:

As a showcase for the distinctive moves of Wing Chun, or more generally for some formalised (if largely wire-free) chopsocky, Ip Man is exemplary, thanks to the action choreography of cult Hong Kong star Sammo Hung.

– Film4

Hung’s fight choreography is clever and exciting, with sequences that have Ip felling a sword-wielding rival with a feather-duster, or holding off two men with a 10-foot pole.

– Noel Murray, AV Club

That final conflict between evil General Sanpo and Man — who of course still has to fight the biggest bad guy since the locals are too incompetent to even fight a group of disorganized bandits — is also curiously ruthless. Sanpo is likened to Man’s coat rack-like training apparatus, making the flurry of blows Man rains down on Sanpo’s head a vicious attack on a dehumanized piece of furniture. It’s a fittingly abstract and totally brutal finale.

– Simon Abrams, New York Press

There are definitely better kung-fu flicks in terms of pure action spectacle, but Ip Man delivers as tremendous entertainment even if you don’t much care about martial arts.

– Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com

It’s not all rosy:

The film was a box office hit in China… That may have had less to do with the excellent fight sequences, directed by Sammo Hung with the help of one of Mr. Ip’s sons, than with the appeals to nationalism and, particularly, the heavy-handed depiction of the occupying Japanese as giggling sadists or implacable killing machines.

– Mike Hale, New York Times

The Japanese themselves couldn’t be more stereotyped in their presentation, with the honourable-but-brutal general and his cackling, sadistic henchman

– Jamie Healy, Radio Times

On the other hand, as that “sinister Japanese general”:

Hiroyuki Ikeuchi… imbues what could have been a cardboard villain role with dignity and grace

– Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com

To revisit Film4’s point about the “desaturated period look (yet another cliche)”:

Yip’s aesthetics are more muted and traditional than those of well-known florid imports Hero and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Yet such modesty is in tune with his soft-spoken protagonist, and also provides clean, sharp views of Yen’s awe-inspiring skills

– Nick Schager, The Village Voice

But in conclusion:

a throwback to those chopsocky Hong Kong films of the 1970s – a period piece filmed on obvious but eye-pleasing studio sets with wall-to-wall kung fu and a simplistic, philosophical message.

– G. Allen Johnson, San Francisco Chronicle

I’m not qualified to judge whether [Ip Man] belongs among the top martial-arts films ever made, an opinion that’s been gaining credence as the movie bounced around the world… But there can be no doubt that director Wilson Yip has crafted a gripping, rousing, beautifully structured yarn, built around a calm but charismatic star performance by Donnie Yen and magnificent action sequences choreographed by the legendary Sammo Hung.

– Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com

Consulted sources (including some unquoted)

Abrams, Simon ‘Ip Man’ ushers in the return of the tough guys (New York Press)
Adams, Derek Ip Man (2008) (Time Out)
Cook, Simon IP Man 2 (Empire)
Ebert, Roger Ip Man 2 (rogerebert.com)
Film4 Ip Man Review
Glasby, Matt Ip Man (Total Film)
Hale, Mike Mastering Martial Arts (The New York Times)
Healy, Jamie Ip Man (Radio Times)
Johnson, G. Allen Review: ‘Ip Man’ is a fun kung-fu throwback movie (SFGate / San Francisco Chronicle)
Jolin, Dan Ip Man (Empire)
Murray, Noel Ip Man (A.V. Club)
O’Hehir, Andrew “Ip Man”: A dazzling martial-arts epic (Salon.com)
Schager, Nick Bruce Lee Mentor Ip Man Gets His Own Kickass Movie (The Village Voice)

Ironclad (2011)

Posted on January 28, 2012 by badblokebob

In medieval times, a group of filmmakers set out to prove you can make a Hollywood-quality historical action epic with independent funding in Britain, while in the present day a ragtag group of seven samurai— sorry, gunslingers— sorry, warriors, defend a small town— sorry, castle, from evil bandits— sorry, an evil king.

I think I got some details confused there.

Set shortly after the signing of the Magna Carta, Ironclad tells the true story of King John not being very happy and, with the backing of the Pope, setting about reclaiming England. Violently. Naturally the men who forced him into scribbling on the famous document aren’t best pleased, so while some set off to persuade the French to invade, others hole up in Rochester castle, vital to John’s efforts as it controls trade routes to the rest of the country or something.

Firstly, I say “true story” — I have no idea how much fact has gone into this. Some, at least. Was John really supported by a Viking-ish army? Dunno. Were the Knights Templar really dead set against him? Dunno. Was Rochester really defended by a dozen men? Dunno. But this isn’t a history lecture, it’s a piece of entertainment — aiming for the same ballpark as Gladiator, Braveheart, Kingdom of Heaven, and so on, albeit less grand; and there’s a sort of connection to Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood too, which I seem to remember included the signing of the Magna Carta.

Anyway, it seems to me its use of facts are probably strong enough to support it as an entertainment. So some of the story structure may be reminiscent of Seven Samurai/The Magnificent Seven, but it’s not the first to use that and it won’t be the last (and I’ve never seen either anyway. Bad me). And so the special effects-driven climax may occur on the wrong tower of the castle’s keep — I think we can live with that level of deception.

As to the point of “why not just go round the castle?”, I presume the answer is more or less, “well… he didn’t…” Somewhat thankfully, the commander of the Danish forces puts this very question to the King, whose answer is some muttered speech about how his family built it and… I dunno. I’m not clear why they can’t just use the massive camp next to the tiny castle as their appropriate base of operations, other than the film wouldn’t be half as exciting.

And exciting it of course is. There are stretches some may find dull — there’s little new to be done with the whole Recruiting The Team bit, and once John gets the castle under siege and everyone’s twiddling thumbs and eating horses some viewers will be doing one of the two as well — but there are regular bursts of sword-swinging violence that achieve the film’s primary aims. The fights are generally well staged, even if many resort to the modern vogue for close-up quick-cut handheld shakiness, and they’re certainly gory.

I’ve seen some complain about the level of graphic detail in this regard, but this is medieval times, they didn’t just bump each other about a bit; and you don’t think a giant axe swung down on someone’s shoulder with all a man’s weight is going to just leave a scratch, do you? Director Jonathan English doesn’t linger on detail as if this were a horror movie. There’s cleaved bodies, severed limbs, squirts of blood and more, and it all feels gruesomely realistic, but individually each moment passes quickly.

This is as appropriate a moment as any to mention that the film should be in the ratio 2.40:1, but the UK Blu-ray (and presumably DVD) was for some unknown reason mastered in a screen-filling 16:9 — I thought some of the shots looked tight! On the bright side it means English isn’t incompetent; on the dark side it means whoever mastered the UK Blu-ray is. (I’ve seen grabs from the US BD and that’s in the right ratio. Completely different special features too — a director’s commentary may well trump the half-hour of EPK interview snippets we get, for those that care.) I found this to be most blatant in dialogue scenes, where characters are barely squeezed into the extreme edges of the screen, with even the occasional moment of pan & scan required to get everyone who’s speaking on screen. I think it must also hamper the impact of the occasional epic shot — and there are a few — which is a shame because I think that feeling is really part of English’s aim here. I imagine it also makes some of those fight scenes even more disorientating, which is a pity. Nothing will help the sometimes-too-obvious use of digital video though, which looks as nasty as ever.

The battling cast — led by James Purefoy and supported by the likes of Mackenzie Crook, Jason Flemyng and Jamie Foreman — all seem to have a whale of a time with their swords and axes and general fisticuffs. Their roles don’t offer too much depth, but only Flemyng (who I never rate) struggles. They’re supported by some talented thesps in the shape of Brian Cox, Derek Jacobi and Charles Dance, quality actors who maybe don’t always have the greatest taste for quality roles (Dance was recently in that direct-to-DVD Tesco-funded Jackie Collins adaptation, for instance) but always offer gravitas. There’s also Kate Mara, who does a fine British accent as an unnecessary love interest for Purefoy’s warrior monk type.

The real star, though, is Paul Giamatti as King John. Petulant, entitled and fundamentally weak, he rants and raves and chews any piece of scenery he can get his teeth into (not literally, but at times I swear he came close). It’s a well-pitched performance — he doesn’t go too far with it, making the King ridiculous and laughable without dragging the whole film down around him. That makes for a good villain.

Despite some occasional cheapness in the cinematography, Ironclad largely achieves its goal of creating a Hollywood-esque historical action movie on British soil (it was shot in Wales). Yes some of the CGI is obvious, and some stuff that looks like CGI was apparently model work, but these are all forgivable, especially when you remember this was made for just $25 million. The unfamiliar true story also gives it the added edge of not knowing who lives or dies, or whether our heroes even succeed. If the ultimate end feels guessable, I think it’s only in retrospect. Of course, that doesn’t mean any of it’s historically accurate anyway.

And so what? It’s an action movie. And on all points that matter, it scores well.

Ironclad began on Sky Movies Premiere last night and continues daily throughout the week. I have no idea which aspect ratio it’s in.

It placed 10th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2012, which can be read in full here.

Centurion (2010)

Posted on January 12, 2012 by badblokebob

Last week, as I’m sure you’re aware, I posted the top ten films I’d watched in 2011. Among them were three I’ve yet to post a review for… so what better way to begin finishing off my 2011 reviews than with those. So here’s the lowest, #9…

The fourth feature from writer/director Neil Marshall (despite owning his first three on DVD, this BD rental is the first I’ve actually watched — story of my life) is a bit of a departure: where the first three were horror (or at least horror-leaning) flicks, Centurion is an action-adventure crossed with something a little more artsy. Only a little, mind. Think Seraphim Falls.

The story involves a Roman legion (a real one, in fact — the story is based in historical fact) venturing into Scotland to take on the natives. They get massacred, the survivors try to get home alive. The story moves quickly, keeping the momentum up. Indeed, at times it moves so fast that some characters seem to be given short shrift. There’s a “who will survive?” element to the plot — Marshall’s horror roots showing through, perhaps — but you can largely guess which order they’ll be shuffled off in based on, a) how much screen time the character has, and b) the good old deciding factor of “which actors are most recognisable”. Predictability doesn’t really matter though, because there are (perhaps) a couple of surprises in store, and it’s only one element of the story.

Regular readers may know that I have an ever-growing dislike for films that begin at or near the end for no good reason (and most of those that do have no good reason to do so). Centurion’s opening line notes that “this is neither the beginning nor the end” of the lead character’s story. Oh dear, thought I; though perhaps “nor the end” signifies we might reach this point suitably distant from the credits, maybe. Not meaning to spoil it, but we’re there just 10 minutes later. Nice work Mr Marshall.

And with the mention of credits, allow me to note that both the opening and closing credits are wonderful, reminiscent of Panic Room’s much-exalted titles without being a clone.

The characters who do get screen time are well built. Most of them conform to regular men-on-a-mission types, but in the hands of actors like Michael Fassbender and David Morrissey that doesn’t matter. This seems like an appropriate enough point to note that Fassbender is fast becoming, if he isn’t already, an actor where it’s worth watching something with him in even if it doesn’t otherwise appeal. His mixed choices of blockbusters/mainstream-skewing movies and acclaimed artier fare suggest pretty impeccable taste. (Or, at least, tastes that match my own.) The cast is packed with people who, even if you don’t know their names, there’s a fair chance you’ll know the faces (assuming you watch your share of British drama): in addition to Fassbender and Morrissey there’s Dominic West, JJ Field, Lee Ross, Paul Freeman, Liam Cunningham, Noel Clarke, Riz Ahmed, Imogen Poots, Rachael Stirling, Peter Guinness… not to mention Film Star Olga Kurylenko. Recognisability doesn’t guarantee quality, of course, but that’s a pretty good list.

On the action side, there’s a selection of excellently choreographed fights. Lots of blood and gore, but surprisingly not gratuitous considering we have all manner of limbs being lopped off, decapitations, heads being shorn in two, and so on. It’s unquestionably graphic, but it doesn’t linger — the battles are hectic, fast, a blur… but in a good way: you can see what’s going on, but it feels appropriately chaotic.

On the artsy side, the Scottish scenery is extraordinarily stunning. Helicopter shots are put to marvellous use. Think Lord of the Rings, only this was shot on our own fair island. The filmmakers went to extremes to achieve this — it’s entirely real location work, beyond the back of beyond in the depths of a snow-covered Scottish winter; no green screen, no CG enhancement — and their effort has paid off. It looks thoroughly gorgeous. I fear I’m overemphasising the point, but… nah.

I really enjoyed Centurion, appreciating its mix between brutally real action and stunning scenery, with a slightly more thoughtful side emerging in the final act. It’s also always pleasant to see a film that runs the length it wants to at a reasonable speed, rather than padding itself to reach two or even two-and-a-half hours. Splendid.

Centurion placed 9th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2011, which can be read in full here.

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Category Archives: true stories

The Extraordinary Voyage (2011)

The Imposter (2012)

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Tombstone (1993)

Serpico (1973)

Burke & Hare (2010)

Unstoppable (2010)

Ip Man (2008)

Ironclad (2011)

Centurion (2010)