Unauthorized: The Harvey Weinstein Project (2011)

Posted on November 24, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #81
Barry Avrich | 96 mins | streaming | 16:9 | Canada / English

The documentary that Weinstein reportedly tried to stop existing, including discouraging people from participating in interviews. Either he needn’t have worried or really is a complete megalomaniac, because while there is a certain warts-and-all aspect to Avrich’s cinematic biography, it can’t help but admire all that Weinstein has achieved.

Briefly covering his upbringing, to better set in context what follows, Unauthorized tells the story of how Harvey and his brother Bob took their success as concert promoters and applied the techniques to the movie business, moving from simply buying and distributing foreign and indie films, to actually producing them, in the process revolutionising the American film industry for a decade or two.

As a story that’s only recently played out, and arguably isn’t even complete (the film makes it as far as the formation of The Weinstein Company and its early flops, like Grindhouse), I imagine plenty of film fans who lived through this era might find this telling to be an unnecessary recap. As someone who was only a couple of years old when the Weinsteins made their first bids for domination, it’s a period in film history I was only vaguely aware of, and I learnt a lot here. For instance, I had no idea that it’s primarily thanks to the Weinsteins’ buying habits that indie festivals like Sundance went from being barely attended to some of the biggest events on the film calendar.

Even for those who were following film culture through this era, and in spite of Harvey’s apparent efforts, there are numerous interviewees who were there — former Miramax employees, for instance — to offer insight. Thanks to archive footage we get even more opinions, including a fair few comments from Harvey himself. How much of this was available at the time, I obviously don’t know. Even if it is mostly recap, it’s a concise and well-constructed one.

Stopping short of hagiography but fully prepared to acknowledge the huge, and perhaps continuing, impact of Harvey Weinstein on the American film industry, Unauthorized may not quite be essential cinephile viewing, but for those of us a bit too young to be paying attention to the grown up film industry throughout the ’90s, there’s a worthwhile lesson here.

Bill Cunningham New York (2010)

Posted on November 18, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #84
Richard Press | 81 mins | TV | 16:9 | France & USA / English | 12A

Bill Cunningham is 80. He lives in a small rent-controlled apartment in New York City that is filled with filing cabinets. His bed is little more than a mattress on some boxes. Each day, he dresses in the same distinctively simple blue smock and sets out on his bicycle. He eats at the same places each day; simple cheap food, cheap coffee. He doesn’t have a partner or kids; he may never have had a romantic relationship. He doesn’t watch TV or listen to music. It sounds like some kind of life of poverty or religious devotion. It’s neither, although you could make an argument for the latter, because all Bill does all day is photograph what people wear.

I confess, I’ve succumbed to what seems to be the standard way of describing Bill Cunningham New York, which is to big up the simplicity of his life, because that’s the striking element of the story. I don’t think it’s actually a very good representation of the film, or even the man. He’s far from friendless or starving, and the photography is his job — though I imagine he would continue it even if he wasn’t paid.

Bill is, technically, a fashion and society photographer. His real passion, however, is clothes. Real clothes. The clothes people actually wear and how they wear them. His newspaper column — a collection of photos from the streets — is essential reading as far up the chain as Anna Wintour. He doesn’t set trends, he observes them. Exposes them, you might say, because in the past he’s used his work to call fashion designers on where they’ve copied (consciously or not) the work of another from years before, and that has sparked arguments.

He photographs society events apparently because the paper just wants him to, and because he’s known — he gets more invites than he could ever hope to attend. He’s more interested in finding those with interesting people and interesting clothes, or good causes, than he is seeing where the celebrities are — when a guest list is provided, he doesn’t read it. He also photographs fashion shows, but not at the end of the catwalk with the massed bank of photographers. Instead he’s in the front row along the side, with all those Anna Wintours and half-interested celebrities of the world, taking photos from more interesting angles, and only of the outfits that interest him.

What he actually is, more than a “fashion photographer”, is a documentarian, recording how people choose to present themselves to the world, both as individuals and how that translates en masse. Fashion may seem like a meaningless, arbitrary, frivolous thing to afford such time to, and I’d have no argument against Fashion being called exactly that. But fashion — the actual clothes we wear in our actual lives — is something a good many people spend a good amount of time obsessing over; it’s how they choose to represent themselves in the world, how they indicate what they’re like as a person, how they show which groups or types of people they align with. We all do it, even if it’s not a conscious choice. Surely that’s worth recording?

That might all sound pretentious, and I’m certain Bill Cunningham doesn’t view himself in such grandiose a light, but that’s part of the charm, and perhaps part of the importance.

If this review seems to be more about the man than the film then that’s because the film is the man — it’s in the title. Perhaps I should write about the construction of the film — following Bill around on his business, interviewing his friends and colleagues and those he’s influenced; a slightly loose style, with no specific story. But that’s all an aside, probably because it’s so well done. What might be worth picking up on is that there’s no specific story. There are stories in there — like how Carnegie Hall is kicking out its handful of 80- and 90-something resident artists to make way for more office space — but the film doesn’t have an overarching tale. It’s a portrait; one of a fascinating, unusual, but likeable, and certainly unique, individual.

Bill Cunningham New York is on Sky Arts 1 tonight at 8pm and 1:50am, and tomorrow at 2:30pm.

It placed 9th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2012, which can be read in full here.

16 Blocks (2006)

Posted on November 6, 2012 by badblokebob

2012 #54
Richard Donner | 98 mins | DVD | 2.35:1 | Germany & USA / English | 12 / PG-13

A Bruce Willis action movie? You know what you’re in for here, don’t you? Well, not quite. 16 Blocks casts Willis as less John McClane and more John McCane: old, fat, drunk, limping. He’s a copper still, but the kind of detective whose primary duties are being left to watch over an apartment full of bodies until uniform can show up.

The conceit of the film is that this man is assigned to transport a witness the mere 16 blocks from the police station to the courthouse. Some corrupt cops don’t want him to. Normally Willis would just fold and let them… but, for whatever reason, he decides enough is enough, and it becomes a battle against time and said former-friends to get Mos Def’s witness to testify.

I love a real-time thriller; I don’t know what it is about that concept, but I love it. (I was in heaven for years thanks to 24, until they seemed to stop caring about anything approaching realism.) For that reason, I wish 16 Blocks had hewn closer to its premise. Having to traverse precisely 16 blocks in real-time? There’s a precision in that the film could have exploited. Instead it pretty quickly abandons the notion that they’re traversing exactly 16 blocks — they go up, down, sideways, possibly even backwards; no one actually keeps count, despite it being the bloody title! And it’s sort of in real-time because, well, it can’t really avoid it. But I think it could have played on both of these factors more, and I think it would’ve been better for it.

For me, it really lost its way just over an hour in, when our heroes (spoilers!) end up in a hostage situation on a bus. It’s not bad, but it feels like writer Richard Wenk (who’s gone on to co-write heights of culture like The Mechanic and The Expendables 2) ran out of ways to keep the setup going, so jumped on a new one. Plus in many respects the characters that populate the high-concept are just stereotypes. There’s the useless drunk cop who suddenly steps up; the wisecracking career small-time crook who wants to turn good; David Morse playing the kind of role he always plays (well, he is good at it). At least casting action-man Willis as the drunk copper gives it a different flavour, and Mos Def gives his usual surprisingly-good turn as the crook.

For fans of an action-thriller (something which I most definitely am), 16 Blocks is a very solid entry in the genre. It doesn’t pay out too heavily in twists (though I get the impression the makers think it does), but there’s still an occasional mild unpredictability and a certain speed to proceedings that keep it engaging. Still, I can’t help but feel a more high-concept rendering of the opening conceit would’ve yielded stronger results.

The Beast Stalker (2008)

Posted on November 3, 2012 by badblokebob

aka Ching yan

2012 #48
Dante Lam | 110 mins | TV* | 1.85:1 | Hong Kong / Cantonese | 15

While in pursuit of an accused murderer, a cop (Nicholas Tse) accidentally kills the daughter of said murderer’s prosecutor (Jingchu Zhang). Three months later, just days before his trial, the accused has the prosecutor’s other daughter kidnapped, to persuade her to destroy the evidence proving his guilt. Despite having spent the intervening time in reclusive self doubt, the cop sets out to rescue the kidnapped little girl.

The Beast Stalker is the kind of thriller that’s far less convoluted when you actually sit down to watch it, even if it does contain flashbacks that some other reviewers found confusing. Personally I had no trouble spotting them, but then thanks to those other reviews I was looking out for them, so who knows? Do note that the title is absolutely meaningless. Even if you read it as the “beast” being some kind of human, none of the characters are specifically a “beast stalker”. Maybe its meaning got lost in translation.

As a Hong Kong-produced thriller, you’d expect the focus here to actually be on the action sequences, but that’s not the case — there’s a real effort to look at the characters and the investigative side of the story. It’s by no means a procedural, and the character drama isn’t as deep as it might like to be, but the intentions are good. When HK’s famed action does turn up, it’s quite fleetingly and entirely plot-driven. The pivotal opening car chase is a nice one, topped by a crash realised (I presume) through seamless CGI. It reoccurs in flashbacks, each time with equal visual awe. Other punch-ups arise from the story rather than action-movie-necessity, making them a little perfunctory — the real meat actually lies in the plot’s twists and turns. This is more one for fans of thrillers than beat-’em-ups.

That said, it’s not an overly surprise-laden plot — following the heroes and villains throughout sees to that — but that doesn’t leave it without tension or surprise. In the final reel, however, it tries to have its cake and eat it, first with a Shocking Moment it retreats back from, then with a final twist that ties everything up in a neat little bow; the kind of narrative trick which feels satisfying when you write it but comes over as too pat to an audience. It doesn’t ruin the film, it’s just a bit of a cheap “ta-dah!”, and perhaps with some more groundwork it could’ve been made to make sense.

In the lead role, Nicholas Tse fails to bring much more than standard action movie heroism to his character. There’s the occasional scene where he’s clearly been instructed to convey self doubt, but it isn’t pervasive. His best emoting comes courtesy of a nosebleed. Left to his own devices, his performance consists of business-like heroism, massively OTT shouting, or wails of crying sorrow. But that nosebleed… that works.

The top performance comes from Nick Cheung as a for-hire kidnapper with the Bondian trait of being blinded in one eye while the other only has black-and-white vision. He gets added complexity thanks to an invalided wife he tenderly cares for — he’s only in this life of crime to pay off his debts and medical bills, y’know. Cheung’s largely silent turn manages a fine balance of menace and sympathy. He won a couple of HK awards for it, according to Wikipedia, which seems deserved to me.

No other roles offer quite so much, scuppered by subplots that either go nowhere or are too familiar to care about. There’s the prosecutor’s failed marriage which may have led to the death of her child, or the cocky bossy cop who has a crisis of ability after an accidental killing, and so on. The theoretical main villain barely even features, which is refreshing in a way — it’s not that he’s underplayed, just that he’s not that relevant. Plus there’s the odd completely misjudged bit, like Tse’s cop stalking the sister of the little girl he accidentally killed, sketching her and offering her sweets. Creepy.

A brief couple of scenes with a bullied colleague play out nicely, though unfortunately they contrast with a painfully written bit in which another colleague tells Tse’s character what people think of him. “They said you were horrible, but I like working for you,” she tells him (I paraphrase), for no discernible reason. It doesn’t even matter that we’re told that, because we’ve already seen it. I just don’t get it.

As a straightforward thriller, The Beast Stalker ticks boxes admirably. As something with more meaningful depth, it manages to pull off a couple of threads, but is left wanting in other areas. The foundations are there, but the script needs a re-write to build on it.

* I watched it on Film4 HD, though it wasn’t listed as being in HD. Still looks a helluva lot better than regular-quality digital TV though. ^

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.

Stepping Out (1991)

Posted on October 23, 2012 by badblokebob

Lewis Gilbert is the director of You Only Live Twice, The Spy Who Loved Me, Moonraker, Alfie, Educating Rita and Shirley Valentine — eclectic is an understatement! Here he works more in line with the latter two, telling the tale of a small amateur dance glass, mostly populated by middle-aged women, trained by a former big-stage wannabe (Liza Minnelli), who are invited to perform at a large local dance revue.

Adapted from his own play by Richard Harris (not that one), it’s easy to imagine how this had theatrical origins: it’s all about performance and the stage, for one thing, and there’s a focus on character and dialogues that feels vaguely stage-derived. Which is in no way to say they’ve failed in translating it to the screen — if you didn’t know its roots, I don’t think you’d be tempted to guess. The action is expanded, with many scenes taking place outside of the group’s rehearsal room (where I believe the entirety of the play took place), and Lewis knows his way behind a camera, so we’re not stuck with stagey blocking.

Obviously the film has an overarching plot, but it’s not really where the focus lies; it’s more an occasionally-vague long-term goal, the preparations for which are spotlighted in a couple of rehearsal scenes. Though Minnelli is ostensibly the star and lead, many of the others are given a not-unfair chunk of screen time too. So with a moderately large cast and the throughline almost a subplot itself, the film occasionally feels like a collection of subplots bolted together. It’s a form that can work, and here it passes well enough.

The standout from the cast is probably Julie Walters, in a relatively early big-screen role. Considering how well-known she is now she seems quite lowly billed and little-featured, but bearing in mind this is a US production from the early ’90s, it’s less surprising. She’s very good (isn’t she always?) as the group’s newest member, a posh English lady who sticks her oar in and is a bit too blunt with her comments. I seem to remember her generating most of the laughs in this comedy-drama, although that’s not to disparage anyone else’s work.

Stepping Out is what some people would call a Woman’s Film, exactly as patronisingly as that sounds. It’s not entirely female — there’s a male member of the group (though one might argue he’s a little camp), and a git of a boyfriend — but, without meaning to come over as patronising myself, you can tell they were aiming for a female audience. Which doesn’t mean men can’t enjoy it, obviously.

For either gender, I think it remains a fairly lightweight but entertaining little tale. It’s not likely to illuminate you in any way, or make you roar with laughter, and it’s not even a shining light in the group-of-underdogs-who-think-they-can’t-prove-they-can sub-genre, but it’s a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours for those who like this kind of thing.

War Horse (2011)

Posted on October 20, 2012 by badblokebob

After decades telling tales from the Second World War, Spielberg moves back a conflict. That said, the BD’s special features make sure to point out this “is not his First World War movie” — it’s just a good tale about a boy and his horse.

Based on the children’s novel by Michael Morpurgo, plus the 2000 stage adaptation that inspired Spielberg to make the film, War Horse follows Joey, a thoroughbred born in 1910s Devon, and his loving owner, Alby. When their farm faces tough times, Alby’s father sells Joey to the army as the Great War starts, initiating a trot across Britain and France that takes in both sides of the conflict over the course of the war.

It might be best to define the film as an epic. It’s a relatively intimate one, focusing in on a handful of characters at a time rather than cutting back and forth between various groups, but the way it does move along several sets of characters, across varied locations, and through a lengthy stretch of time, all command a feeling of a grand story. The special features are right in that it’s not really the story of the war, but what it does show is something of the experience of living through that war, and of the humanity that was still present within it.

I imagine some would level accusations of implausibility, but stranger things have happened in the real world than much of what we witness here. Take a late-occurring scene of British-German co-operation in No Man’s Land, for instance — surely two sides at war would never work together! Well, this is the same war that saw the opposing sides play a football match on Christmas Day, remember? It can’t be denied that there’s factual inaccuracy here (the climax takes place at the Somme in the lead up to Armistice Day in 1918, but that battle was actually fought in 1916), or the occasional heavy dose of sentimentality (it’s directed by Spielberg and co-penned by Richard Curtis — what did you expect?), but I think it carries through these with a scale and heart that is, primarily, entertaining. It is based on a children’s novel and I think aims to be a family film (it should by rights be a PG; my twitter rant on that subject is here), but Morpurgo knows when to treat his audience with respect and at points it certainly doesn’t shy away from the harshnesses of the period.

Similarly, the way the horses are handled seems pretty much spot on. They’re not anthropomorphised, but they definitely develop characters and personality as we follow them throughout the film. Naturally most of the focus falls on the human characters, what with them being the ones who can talk and all that, but Joey is the only character we follow throughout the movie and we’re led to relate to him and his story in a believable way. And I say this as someone who’s not a horsey person. Spielberg reportedly found it tough working with real horses, struggling to get performances from them that matched what he’d seen on stage — unsurprisingly, as those were puppets controlled by well trained and rehearsed humans. Nevertheless, however they went about it (and it was with very minimal use of puppets or CGI), the “horse acting” is solid.

Aiding the sense of the epic is Janusz Kaminski’s cinematography, which is regularly stunning and definitely one of the film’s standout achievements. The beauty of some shots is immediately obvious — he lenses the countryside idyll of Dartmoor in a sweeping fashion, bathed in summer sunlight — but there are striking compositions to be found throughout, be they in close-ups, cavalry charges, horse auctions, battlefield hospitals… There’s often a lovely texture to things too, from the likes of drifting snow or chaff, or the way light streaks across a room. The final scene, fully tinted orange, calls to mind the likes of Gone With the Wind, I presume with full consciousness.

Less remarkable is John Williams’ score. It’s not bad per se, and has its moments, but other times it’s either forgettable or forced (some of the early comical bits are horribly overplayed with whimsical plinky-plonking). For all that, a memorable sequence you’ve surely seen in the trailers — when Joey runs over and through the trenches — is perfectly scored, recalling the action/adventure movie grandeur we all primarily remember Williams for.

As I marked my viewing of War Horse on various websites, it struck me how many negative comments there were. I thoroughly disagree. Not everything has to offer gritty realism, even when it’s dealing with horrendous times and events. Morpurgo, Spielberg and co have conjured a sweeping tale of friendship and humanity in the face of adversity; one that isn’t afraid to depict some of the nastier realities of the world, but in a way that makes them relatable for a younger audience. I think that’s important; but this isn’t a Worthy Film for that, it’s just something it does well. I think it also nails sensations of adventure and, yes, sentimentality.

I think it’s a bit of an epic, with all that connotes, and I love a bit of an epic.

War Horse is on Sky Movies Premiere twice daily until Thursday.

It placed 2nd on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2012, which can be read in full here.

Knight and Day (2010)

Posted on October 17, 2012 by badblokebob

2010 #16
James Mangold | 105 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | USA / English | 12 / PG-13

James Mangold is one of those filmmakers with a thoroughly eclectic CV, taking in crime thriller Cop Land, psych-ward drama Girl, Interrupted, fantasy rom-com Kate & Leopold, killer thriller Identity, Johnny Cash biopic Walk the Line, Western remake 3:10 to Yuma, and is currently calling the shots on superhero sequel/prequel The Wolverine. Here he does something different again: the comedic action movie; the ever-growing subgenre we seem to have seen a lot of lately, with films like Shoot ‘Em Up, The A-Team and RED.

That’s the kind of film Knight and Day was advertised as — spy-action-movie spoofery — and it should therefore come as no surprise that that’s the kind of film it is. There are no big surprises in the plot or characters, but because it’s a comedy it can push the action sequences in ways that are too silly for a regular Tom Cruise kinda film, and I think that also allows us to forgive the fairly standard plot. Plenty of reviews and online commenters have expressed disappointment with the film, perhaps expecting something else — sometimes it pays to listen to the advertising, eh?

As a quick note, I watched the theatrical version but there’s an extended one too (that’s what comes of taking something from Sky Movies instead of a rental Blu-ray). It offers a couple of extra character scenes for Cameron Diaz and a few more beats in the action scenes. Essential? I shouldn’t think so, but it looks like some fun stuff if you have the choice. The total difference is around seven minutes.

Knight and Day is nothing deep or revelatory or groundbreaking, but if you were expecting it to be then more fool you. If you can’t abide Cruise or Diaz (and I know some people really can’t) then it should certainly be avoided, but those caveats aside I thought it was good fun. No classic, and far from destined to be a standout on Mangold’s multi-Oscar-winning filmography, but an appropriately entertaining couple of hours.

Gnomeo & Juliet (2011)

Posted on October 12, 2012 by badblokebob

Gnomeo & Juliet is the latest British attempt to crack the lucrative CGI animated kids’ movie market, after the lack of success (or, alternatively, failure) from the likes of Flushed Away and that one about the carrier pigeon whose name escapes me (after a quick IMDBing, it’s Valiant). Finally, this one seems to have been more of a success… perhaps because it was backed by Elton John, released by Disney (under Touchstone), and helmed by the co-director of Shrek 2.

The obvious high-concept — Romeo and Juliet, with gnomes! — is the kind of thing that will tickle you or set you screaming with rage (or possibly just tutting with contempt). If the latter, your mileage will vary on how charming it is to win you over; if the former, “tickled” is about the level the film operates at. It pulls off a couple of nice jokes, mainly around the fact it stars garden gnomes, and it plays with your expectations towards the end, but it’s pretty forgettable — I know there were some bits that made me chuckle, but I can’t actually remember any of them now. It’s also stuffed with recognisable British voices, making it quite fun for anyone who (like me) likes to play Spot The Famous Voice.

My only other note is that it ends with a truly awful cover of Crocodile Rock by Nelly Furtado. A storyboarded “all’s well that ends well” ending (included on the BD, and the DVD for all I know) looks much better.

Gnomeo & Juliet is more amiable than its “oh, you didn’t” title might suggest, but that’s about all. Shakespeare certainly has nothing to worry about.

Unknown (2011)

Posted on October 4, 2012 by badblokebob

Following the surprise success of Taken, Liam Neeson again finds himself in action man mode as an American caught up in a Europe-set thriller. This time he’s some kind of scientist travelling to a conference with his wife, when he’s caught in a car accident. Managing to return to the hotel, he finds his wife doesn’t know him and there’s someone else who says they are him…

As premises go it’s an intriguing one; the kind of thing that gets you on board and you have no idea how they might satisfactorily resolve. That makes a change when most films, especially thriller and action movies, play out a string of interchangeable but familiar beats. In the film’s special features, producer Leonard Goldberg talks about how, having made thrillers his whole life, when he starts reading or watching them he can usually figure it all out early on, but the novel on which Unknown is based managed to surprise him. Thinking if it could surprise him it might surprise others too, he snapped up the rights, and I must say I think he was right. Additional kudos to the distributors for keeping any hint of those twists out of the marketing — a rare feat these days. (Well, if they were there, I didn’t pick up on them.)

That said, it’s all a bit implausible, but I suppose no worse than many other entries in the action-thriller genre. It’s only the fairly realistic setup that throws you off the scent — if you were aware of developments from the post-twist third act, and therefore the tone that pitches, the whole thing would be more acceptable from the outset. I’ve seen other reviews and viewer comments criticise this ending, but personally I thought that was when it got good, kicking into a higher gear and retrospectively making the iffy earlier bits make a lot more sense. Plus it’s where you’ll find some of what the film does best: Frank Langella turning up briefly for one great scene with YouTube’s Hitler (aka Bruno Ganz) and a cool exit; a really good car chase; and a couple of solid punch-ups, including a particularly good one at the climax.

This variability left me torn as to rating — and, more importantly, what that rating is used as a signifier for: an overall impression of the film. I was thinking 3 for most of it — a passable if occasionally plodding identity thriller with a mite too much coincidence and believability-stretching. But the impressively and pleasurably unforeseen twist casts the entire movie in a new light, and for the enjoyment that gave I’m tempted up towards a 4. In the end, maybe the answer lies in your view of how to judge a movie’s quality: is it how you felt towards it as it played out, or is it looking back at the totality of the experience afterwards? Both are valid approaches, and in the majority of films would probably result in the same opinion. But some films have a changes-everything-you’ve-seen twist, and by changing everything you’ve seen it might change your opinion; it would certainly change your experience on any subsequent viewings. Unknown certainly has one of those twists.

The other way, the way that makes all criticism an art rather than a science, is in how you feel. While I was unconvinced for much of the running time, the surprises turned Unknown into a flawed but enjoyable film that has appeal to any fan of a good thriller. That might merit an extra star; stick with it and you might even agree; but thinking back on it a while later, the earlier parts overshadow things. Maybe a second viewing would change my opinion, but for now it feels like 3.

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