Devon and Cornwall Film » Reviews

An ornately detailed walk through the world of dreams – Inception: review

Stuart McCoLL — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 11:14:54 +0000

With The Dark Knight making such considerable bank and uniting opinionated fans and critics alike, Christopher Nolan was essentially handed the keys to the kingdom by Warner Bros. With them in hand and his new-found experience working on big blockbuster pictures, he decided to set about filming one of his own scripts. One that was 10 years in the making – Inception – a highly ambitious walk through the ‘architecture of the mind’. And in doing this, he might just have saved the summer of 2010.

For the first 60 minutes, Inception takes you by both hands and guides you through a world where theft is now commonplace in dreams. Leonardo DiCaprio plays Dom Cobb, the best in the business at infiltrating and removing information from the fast asleep. When it’s not explaining the increasingly intricate canons of the entire concept, the film essentially plays out as a maze-like heist picture set in the dream(s) of Cillian Murphy’s Robert Fischer, a business magnate and rival of Ken Watanabe’s Saito. Cobb is tasked not with extracting information from Fischer’s mind, but inserting an idea within and tricking Fischer into believing that the idea was his own (an inception). If he can successfully pull this off, Cobb can return home to his two young children. If he can’t, he risks death. Or worse – being caught in the limbo of his own mind.

To pull off this gargantuan task, Cobb ensembles his own Ocean’s 11-style group of dream stealers – long-time point man Arthur (Joseph Gordon Levitt), shape-shifting Eames (the exceptional Tom Hardy), mind architect Ariadne (Ellen Page), experimental pharmacist Yusuf (Dileep Rao) and the man who gave him the mission, Saito. From here, Inception is a constantly unfurling meld of ideas and rules balanced delicately across two or three different layers at a time. The fact that its stability never comes into question is in virtue of the excellent script and the character of Ariadne, who acts as our guide throughout.

The collective must travel into dreams-upon-dreams if they’re to pull off the inception successfully – and to create something on such a large scale Nolan was provided with a $160m budget (pocket change from the $1bn+ that The Dark Knight has taken globally). It’s used to great effect with fights in rotating hotel corridors, cities eroded by huge waves and a bustling Parisian street folding in half like a sheet of paper.

There’s a look and feel of past Nolan films here, with Memento and The Dark Knight coming to the forefront. Memento for it’s out-and-out mind-trickery and The Dark Knight for it’s sweeping set-up shots of city skylines and constant sense of climax in both the script and the score. Providing the breathtaking soundtrack is Hans Zimmer (The Dark Knight), whose capricious music gives the sense that every dream sequence could implode at any second. Wally Pfister acts as cinematographer on yet another Christopher Nolan-directed picture, having worked with him on everything from Memento to The Dark Knight, through Insomnia, Batman Begins and The Prestige.

Inception will be remembered as one of the defining films of the decade, a contemporary masterpiece of modern cinema. Visually stunning, fantastically scored and with mind-bending layered set pieces that play out as microcosms of each other, Nolan has created his finest piece of work yet.

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Reawakening the Predator franchise and erasing memories of alien crossovers – Predators: review

Stuart McCoLL — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 21:42:47 +0000

1987′s Predator spawned a multi-million dollar franchise and a gluttony of terrible ideas, two of which made their way to the big screen in Aliens Vs. Predator and its wholly awful sequel. The original Predator, despite a mixed critical reception at the time of release is remembered fondly by most and frequently finds its way onto ‘top 50 action movie’ lists across the internet, written by journalists and bloggers alike – and, if we’re counting, two of its stars also went on to become US governors in Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jesse Ventura. There’s still hope for Carl Weathers yet.

Three years later and Predator 2 saw everybody’s favourite dreadlocked alien make its way from the jungles of Guatemala to the streets of Los Angeles, with an all new cast headlined by Danny Glover and Gary Busey. It had the same state-of-the-art effects and the same Stan Winston behind the Predator character, but it was found sorely lacking when stacked up against it’s younger brother.

Around a year after the release of Predator 2, Robert Rodriguez (Sin City, Desperado) wrote an early script for a further instalment in the franchise, which 20th Century Fox would turn down due to budget scale worries. Well over a decade later and that script would form the basis for Predators, with Rodriguez producing and Nimrod Antal (Vacancy) directing.

It’d be easy to overload a sequel such as this with homages and tributes to these predecessors, but Predators never once veers down the path of outright imitation and repetition. While it does tip its hat a few times (and to other films) it’s never done with a wink and a nudge, choosing to be subtle instead.

Which is one thing that the characters certainly aren’t. Portrayed by a venerable cast including Academy Award-winning Adrien Brody, cult icon and long-time Rodriguez muse Danny Trejo, as well as Lawrence Fishburne in his best role since forever, the cast list packs a heavy punch. Parachuted into an unknown jungle and all suffering from temporary amnesia, they quickly discover that something is awry – they’re all murderers, while perhaps not in the eyes of the law. Gangsters, mercenaries, soldiers or out-and-out criminals, the only anomaly on the list is Topher Grace’s doctor character, who is quite possibly there for his role in the diabolical Spider-man 3.

The plot doesn’t venture very far from here, as you’d expect. The body count adds up as Adrien Brody’s voice becomes increasingly indistinguishable from Christian Bale’s Batman growl (Why?!), and it’s not long before our ‘heroes’ realise that they’re not up against an earthly foe. There’s some more than acceptable set pieces and the action moves at a brisk pace, only slowing down to channel some of the horror elements that Predator did so well.

This is really the film that Predator 2 should have been – it’s fast, it’s fun and it really evokes the spirit of John McTiernan’s 1987 original. In 2010, we’ve arguably seen it all done before… but is that such a bad thing?

(image: Adrien Brody and Alice Braga in Predators)

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The week’s weirdest DVD releases reviewed

Tom Leins — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 12:27:59 +0000

Sex, Leins & Videotape #45. Paignton film critic Tom Leins investigates this week’s strangest DVD releases

George A Romero’s critical stock may fall every time he releases an underwhelming new ‘Dead’ movie, but the zombie movie veteran was once one of horror’s boldest, most compelling talents – a notion that Martin – The Immortal Edition (Arrow) is very keen to re-address.

Made back in 1977, Martin is an enjoyably subversive spin on the tried ‘n’ trusted vampire myth, swapping old-world glamour for small-town grubbiness. At first glance, young Martin is a typically awkward teenager – shy to the point of muteness, and hesitant around girls. However, the geeky youngster harbours a twisted secret – he has an insatiable appetite for human blood. His elderly Uncle Cuda is sceptical of the youngster, and treats him like an old-fashioned Nosferatu figure, and although Martin is desperate to keep his blood-lust in check, he finds himself scouring the streets for deserving prey. In an era when reluctant bloodsuckers are firmly in vogue, Martin reinforces the belief that Romero was way ahead of his time, and gives fans a welcome chance to get to grips with a seriously misunderstood slice of retro horror.

Although a 30-year-old George A Romero obscurity may not seem like an essential DVD offering for casual horror fans, Martin – The Immortal Edition is a horror freak’s wet-dream, and this lovingly crafted DVD package will thrill anyone who thinks that distributors have got lazy in recent years. The double-disc set also includes Wampyr – the Italian version of the movie (featuring a score by notorious Dario Argento prog-rock favourites Goblin), a European Romero documentary and even a Making Of featurette. Chuck in a poster, art cards, and a booklet featuring an essay by Romero himself and you have a DVD package that comprehensively transcends the film’s lowly origins. Not just an enthralling curio, but a lavish repackaging to boot. Lovely stuff!

Last year, aging Hollywood legend Clint Eastwood announced that he was giving up acting in order to pump all of his energies into directing. His latest movie – Invictus (Warner Home Video) – charts the efforts of newly appointed South African President Nelson Mandela – a man determined to bridge the Apartheid-induced racial gap through the medium of sport. With the 1995 Rugby World Cup imminent, Mandela (played by the uncanny Morgan Freeman) takes a special interest in the nation’s underperforming rugby team captained by Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon), and tries to win over the sceptical, football-loving black population by publicly embracing rugby. Although Morgan Freeman’s majestic Mandela impersonation is hugely impressive, the formulaic script feels slightly timid, and badly affects the film’s energy.

Sadly, after an engaging first half, Invictus slumps when it reaches the climactic world cup final, and Eastwood’s movie lacks the requisite tension to keep viewers truly hooked. I can only imagine how difficult it is to choreograph a rugby match to pre-determined specifications, but the extensive game scenes feel dangerously sluggish and suggest that rugby really doesn’t lend itself very well to the ‘sporting showdown movie climax’. Eastwood is no stranger to the director’s chair, and the star-turned-filmmaker has already amassed a rich back catalogue of work. While Invictus is a well-acted, evocative piece of work, it lacks the darkness of earlier movies such as Unforgiven, Mystic River and even last year’s Gran Torino. It may be watchable, worthy, and brimming with fine scenes, but Eastwood’s latest offering is far from essential.

According to Mexican folklore, every time a bridge is built, the Devil will ask for one soul in return – to guarantee that the bridge never falls down. This sinister legend provides the jump-off point for In The Pit (Network), a curious documentary that snagged the Sundance Grand Jury Prize upon its original 2006 release. Focusing on the construction of Mexico City’s Periferico Freeway, Juan Carlos Rulfo’s evocative documentary is essentially a tribute to the working man and explores the rarely-told stories of the men whose blood, sweat and tears go into the construction of such a structure.

By exploring the hopes and dreams of the regular men in charge of building the freeway, the film transcends its potentially uninspiring subject matter and sucks you into the lives of those involved. Sure enough, before the bridge is completed, the devil rears his ugly head and claims a soul for himself, adding a spooky edge to proceedings. It may be too offbeat for some tastes, but In The Pit is a thoughtful, eye-opening documentary that examines the lives and loves of the working men toiling away in the underbelly of Mexico City. As one contemplative construction worker ponders towards the end of the film: “We’re in hell, paying for our sins.”

Trampling the same ground already covered by the Disney animation of the same name, Mulan (Cine Asia) follows the exploits of a young girl who finds herself pressed into military service in order to defend her homeland from barbarian invaders. When the Emperor issues a decree that all families in the Northern Province must defend their territory from Rouran warriors, young Mulan disguises herself as a male soldier, rather than subject her decrepit father to the visceral horrors of the battle-ground. Despite her elaborate ruse, the tough, resourceful Mulan quickly rises through the ranks and establishes herself as a fearsome general. Only the mutual attraction between her and her fellow General Wentei threatens to destabilise their ferocious fighting unit.

Unfortunately, if you’re expecting a blistering 300-style feast of stylized combat action, you’re looking in the wrong place. Although there is no shortage of battle sequences, Mulan badly lacks personality and turns an intriguing story into an overwrought battle-ground melodrama. Ultimately, Mulan is a blandly competent adventure story that lacks the kind of storytelling flair that would have set it apart from the pack. Vicki Zhao (Mulan) does a respectable job as the titular heroine, but the by-numbers narrative lacks excitement, and the film never really delivers the kind of brutal action that would have taken it to the next level. All in all, a disappointingly average affair.

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Four girls, three days, two cities and one case of plot device over plot – 4.3.2.1, review

Stuart McCoLL — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 09:32:42 +0000

Following on from the runaway success that Kidulthood achieved, actor-writer-director Noel Clarke would have been forgiven if his sophomore effort had turned out to be less than stellar. Instead, he built upon all the things that Kidulthood brought to the table. Choosing this time to direct as well, Clarke followed up with Adulthood, giving us a look at the characters of Kidulthood a few years down the line.

With his latest film, he’s handling all of the roles again. Written and directed by himself (co-directed by Mark Davis), and also starring himself in a less-than brief cameo, 4.3.2.1 tells the story of four girls embroiled in the aftermath of a diamond robbery. It also delves deeper into their lives, dealing with father-daughter relationships, marriage breakups, abortions and internet boyfriends. Spanning three days, in two cities, they’ve got one chance to impress, and they sort-of pull it off.

The overarching plot of 4.3.2.1 feels extremely underdeveloped – following one of the world’s biggest ever diamond heists, the stolen goods somehow end up in the hands of four mid-20s girls in London. The heist itself is barely touched upon, and when it is, it generally involves former Eastenders actress Michelle Ryan, who feels more than a little out of place.

Rumour has it that during a meeting to discuss a Kidulthood sequel, somebody in the room called into question the plausibility of the film’s female characters – and from that conversation, the script for 4.3.2.1 was conceived. If such rumours are to be believed, then you can’t help but feel like Clarke hasn’t really answered the questions asked of him here. The all-female foursome are all far too bolshie and in-your-face to be believable.

Up to bat first, is Shannon (Ophelia Lovibond). Lonely and depressed, her segment is overly-melodramatic and you can’t help but feel that the film limps along and suffers because of it. Sort-of-socialite Cassandra (Tamsin Egerton), whose segment adds some comic relief to the proceedings. Kerrys (Shanika Warren-Markland) is a lesbian and she wants everybody to know it. Strong-willed, independent and just a little bit outspoken, her character comes across at first as the least believable of the four. But she’s possibly the most developed, if you can look past the ridiculously short skirts. Rounding off the foursome is Joanne (Emma Roberts), a dainty American who somehow winds up working night shifts in a supermarket. How these four ever ended up as the close-knit group of girls that we’re supposed to believe they are remains to be seen.

Yet still, the film fairs better when its focus is on these characters, rather than the diamonds. Their stories and arcs clash together at various times during the ‘rewinds’, and sometimes you’re able to forget all about Michelle Ryan and her bloody diamonds.

Its influences are overwhelmingly obvious and splashed all over the screen. The shades of Pulp Fiction’s narrative are almost engulfed by how heavily it takes from Doug Liman’s Go . Where these two films were celebrated for their non-linear approach, 4.3.2.1′s stop-and-go play-and-rewind formula doesn’t feel very non-linear at all. A mechanism used a little too frequently in recent years, it’s been done far worse (Vantage Point ) and far better (Memento).

But Clarke knows his audience, and he doesn’t let this hamper the film to the degree that it could have done. Where the plot borrows from Pulp Fiction, the film itself strives to emulate Pulp Fiction’s lionized director. The whole thing plays out almost as Tarantino-lite, with enough style, verve and humour to almost cover over the cracks.

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A nightmarish look at movie reboots done wrong – A Nightmare On Elm Street: review

Stuart McCoLL — Sat, 15 May 2010 07:55:10 +0000

Twenty-six years ago, a stripy jumper wearing child killer entered the world of pop culture thanks to Wes Craven’s 1984 slasher A Nightmare On Elm Street. The film gave a feature debut to Johnny Depp and the franchise it spawned would earn Robert Englund cult status amongst horror movie fans for his portrayal of Freddy Krueger. Seven sequels and $350m in box office takings later and it was inevitable that Hollywood would seek to reboot things.

Enter Michael Bay and his production house Platinum Dunes, responsible for recent atrocities such as the remake of Friday the 13th and The Unborn as well as 2003′s remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and it’s 2006 sequel. Unsurprisingly, A Nightmare On Elm Street is everything you’ve come to expect from this outfit, with the only saving grace being the casting of Jackie Earle Haley as Freddy Krueger.

Haley’s filmography over the last few years reads like a who’s who list of the deranged. From paedophile Ronnie McGorvey in Little Children and Rorschach in Watchmen to George Noyce in Shutter Island, it seems like his recent roles were all building up to one such as this. His take on Freddie is a lot more menacing than the campy one-liner spewing machine that Robert Englund has treated us to for nearly a quarter of a century. The raspy, gravelly lisp that Haley gives the character makes Krueger an intimidating and deeply sinister force.

The script has us thrown right into the middle of the confusion, the paranoia and the slowly unfolding plot, with characters getting bumped off at all corners. It mirrors the original to a degree, but because it fails to give us an early connection to any one character, when the blood starts flowing and people start dying, we just don’t care. And nor, it seems, do the rest of the cast. Bodies start getting ripped apart from the middle, and nobody seems to be that bothered about it. There’s nothing underpinning the carnage unfolding upon screen, which leaves you yearning to forget the warnings and just sleep.

A good 30 minutes of Elm Street’s opening is spent setting up a 30 second premise – when burnt-face man kills teenagers in dreams, they die in real life. This plodding 30 minute window is also filled with enough bait-and-switch character changes to detach you from the film completely. One time would have been too many here, but twice?

The only thing that Elm Street does do right is to expand on Freddy’s original backstory. Wes Craven originally conceived Freddy as a child molester, but rewrote the character as a child killer during production. The reboot has him as a child molester once again, with the script putting out the troubling question of whether the children’s stories of abuse are actually true. It’s never delved into and played out quite as much as it should have been, but these scenes are deeper and handled with a lot more attention than the rest of the film.

A Nightmare On Elm Street is a horror movie without the horror, a slasher movie with far too much focus on bloody set pieces than on character and plot. Unimaginative and done better countless time before – in the original, for instance – the scariest thing to be found here might just be the fact that a sequel has already been granted the green light.

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Iron Man 2 tries – and fails – to recapture the magic of the first film – review

Stuart McCoLL — Fri, 07 May 2010 11:39:12 +0000

2008′s Iron Man, directed by Jon Favreau, was full of fantastic performances, wit-infused dialogue and CGI-laden action sequences. It took its place on the throne as possibly the greatest superhero movie ever, only to be displaced a couple of months later by Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight.

Iron Man was a cathartic brother to the gritty Gotham tale – where Bruce Wayne was morose and closed off, Tony Stark was an accessible everyday man, despite the fact that he was essentially the complete opposite. The multi-millionaire alter-ego facade that Bruce Wayne puts on, the charm, the glittering repartee – that’s what Tony Stark really is. Iron Man followed on the back of a line of disappointments for the franchise that is the Marvel superhero movie. Fantastic Four, Daredevil and Elektra, amongst others, had all tanked badly with critics. In this film, Marvel had an antidote to the ‘gritty realism’ trend that The Dark Knight was about to imbue in the industry.

Fast forward to two years later, and the release of Iron Man 2, helmed once again by the returning Jon Favreau. Marvel are in the middle of launching their current wave of superhero films, a wave which will climax with the release of The Avengers in 2012. And therein lies the main problem with Iron Man 2.

At 40 per cent expositional set-up for The Avengers and 50 per cent Tony Stark’s almost caustic dialogue (the other 10 per cent is the action…), the film forgets everything that was so right in the original, to make way for one long Avengers commercial, featuring Samuel L. Jackon. Joining the cast for the sequel are Mickey Rourke, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell and tagging along for the ride is Don Cheadle – replacing Terrence Howard, who was reportedly dropped for a variety of reasons. All perform admirably with what they’re given here, with Rourke and Rockwell in particular standing out.

Iron Man 2 picks up exactly where the first film left off, with Tony Stark revealing his alternate identity to the world. Rourke’s character (Ivan Venko) gets the briefest of introductions before we’re forced to trudge through a gratingly long courtroom scene, one which shows that the character of Tony Stark has become a lot more narcissistic than the one we’re used to. The film’s stand-out set piece follows, in which Venko terrorises the Monaco grand prix in pursuit of Stark. Cars are cut in half before being launched into the air and it’s almost impossible to tell where the CGI begins and ends. It’s an exhilarating scene, but unfortunately, that’s pretty much the last of the action that Iron Man 2 has to offer.

Favreau and writer Justin Theroux shift their attention to Tony’s business rival Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) and Ivan Venko takes a backseat, even more so when Johansson’s shifty-looking character shows up. Flirting dangerously with Spider-man 3 territory, the film leaves you wondering who the main villain is actually going to be – and not because it’s well written, but because it’s just not clear where they’re going with the whole thing.

The problems don’t stop there. One of the things that made the first movie what it was, the swift and snappy dialogue is ramped up until it’s no longer funny, but unbearable. This time, it’s not just Tony that’s in on it, but also Pepper Pots (Gwyneth Paltrow), his assistant/girlfriend. There’s also a very unsavoury bit of self-aggrandising self-insertion in Jon Favreau’s cameo role. Playing Tony Stark’s bodyguard, he manages to throw himself more than a few one-liners and a scene where his head ends up between Scarlett Johansson’s legs.

Iron Man put Marvel back on track and relaunched Robert Downey Jr, with him going on to put in an Oscar-nominated performance in Tropic Thunder. Iron Man 2′s greatest acclaim is that it’s half the film of the original.

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One to avoid on Date Night – review

Stuart McCoLL — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 13:37:36 +0000

The last few years have seen a number of high concept films released which attempt to merge the romantic comedy and action genres. And not just romantic comedy, but marital comedy in particular. The results range from poor (Mr & Mrs Smith) to genuinely offensive (The Bounty Hunter). One by one they come careering down a conveyor belt of awful, lashed together by the spiteful Hollywood machine. Shamefully, people gobble it up, and that’s where Date Night comes along.

Directed by Shawn Levy (You’ll remember him as the director of the Night At The Museum franchise and… The Pink Panther 2), Date Night thrusts together two of the funniest actors working right now, in Tina Fey (of 30 Rock fame) and Steve Carell (The 40 Year-Old Virgin, The American Office). Unfortunately, that’s pretty much all it does.

Playing the roles of Claire and Phil Foster, Fey and Carrell are a believable married couple caught up in a bit of a minor rut. They go on an impulsive jaunt into the city and claim another couple’s reservation at a swanky restaurant. Misrepresenting themselves lands them in a bit of bother with two goons (Jimmi Simpson and Common) and that’s about an appropriate time to bring in the action part of the film.

A handful of cameos save the film from nosediving entirely into the ground. Mark Wahlberg shows up as a shirtless amateur detective and garners a few laughs. James Franco and Mila Kunis display a brief glimpse of promise – but after moving the story forward a touch, they disappear entirely. Ray Liotta cashes a quick cheque and Kristen Wiig makes an appearance for all of five minutes.

Taking into account the considerable talent of the two leads, you’d really expect this to be a lot better. And it would seem that that’s what the film’s creators were hoping for too. The script definitely feels like it’s lacking something – for a romantic comedy, it’s certainly bereft of jokes. You can’t help but feel that Date Night is really relying solely on the chemistry between the two leads to carry it across the finish line. This comes at quite a cost, because the film has some excellent casting, and what’s more, most of the actors are actually funny. It’s just a shame that they weren’t allowed to be here.

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Drew Barrymore’s directorial debut tries to whip the sports movie genre into shape – Whip It: review

Stuart McCoLL — Wed, 14 Apr 2010 11:32:55 +0000

Whip It is the directorial debut of Hollywood’s former rom com go-to girl, Drew Barrymore. Written by Shauna Cross and based on her novel Derby Girl, there’s clearly a feminist agenda woven throughout, but it’s never crammed down our throats like some critics would have you believe. The ‘girl power on roller-skates’ deal takes a sort-of backseat to the rest of the film which deals with a fraying mother-daughter relationship and the problems with coming of age in Nowheresville, USA.

Ellen Page (Juno, Hard Candy) takes the role of Whip It’s lead character, Bliss Cavendar. Tired of the small town drudgery and outwardly rebelling against her pushy mother, Bliss attends a roller derby match and inevitably ends up going back for tryouts. If it all sounds very linear, that’s because it is. Whip It follows the same well-beaten and predictable path as almost every other sports movie ever made.

Moving from point-to-point like a filmic dot-to-dot puzzle, it does leave you wanting for something a little bit different. However, while it might not stray away from the tropes and principles that make the genre what it is, it does bring along some respectable attributes of its own. Charming and almost carefree for the duration, the film picks its moments to delve into heavier subjects which the cast handle beautifully, particularly Page and Marcia Gay-Harden who plays the role of Bliss’ mother.

Bliss foreseeably finds herself a part of the Hurl Scouts – the whipping girls of this particular roller derby league. Her teammates quickly become a surrogate family and it’s in them that Bliss seeks refuge when a boy causes her to fall out with her best friend Pash (Alia Shawkat, who played Maebe in Arrested Development). The other Scouts are the usual motley crew – single mothers (Kristen Wiig, with another decent performance), doe-eyed hippies (Drew Barrymore herself) and put-upon coach Razor (Andrew Wilson).

The Hurl Scouts climb up the roller derby league as Bliss finds herself in the sport. It’s not overly-sentimental, nor is it quite Rocky on roller-skates. The world of roller derby itself feels a bit under-explored, but Barrymore has handled the rest of the film well on her debut behind the camera. We can surely look forward to more from her and from Ellen Page, who is as excellent here as she was in Juno and Hard Candy.

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Clash of the Titans replaces creaky stop-motion with overwrought CGI – and pays the price: review

Stuart McCoLL — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 12:22:13 +0000

CGI doesn’t make up for the wooden script or performances says Cornwall reviewer Stuart McColl on Clash of the Titans

1981′s Clash Of The Titans had a mystical charm to it, largely due to Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion animation. Here, Louis Leterrier’s (The Incredible Hulk, Transporter 2) remake forgoes the charm for large-scale special effects and a plot that takes itself a little too seriously.

Perseus (Sam Worthington) is out to avenge his family, but he’s also out save the city of Argos, which is about to be wiped out by the Kraken, a giant elemental sea creature, which is being sent by the gods who are angry because… It’s not that the plot is hard to follow, it’s just that it’s hard to care when scenes of exposition are truncated as much as possible and enveloped by jerky action sequences.

Character development is at an absolute minimum throughout. Perseus sets out on his mission with a small band of followers and we’re not even given so much as a name for some of them, let alone their reasons for joining him – or for being on screen at all, for that matter. But in the end it doesn’t make a great deal of difference, because they’re all swept aside at the last minute by the long serpentine tail of Medusa (something done much better in the original film).

While Perseus and the gang are on their adventures, we’re treated to a little subplot back at home in the city of Argos. Princess Andromeda (Alexa Davalos) questions whether or not to sacrifice herself to the Kraken in order to save her city – and that’s literally it. The whole thing has barely any screen time yet when it’s tied into the film’s finale we’re expected to care about the outcome, which is nigh on impossible when you’ve only spent about 30 seconds with the character. This lack of attention paid to the characters and the story underpins everything that’s wrong with the film.

Faults continue to stack up elsewhere like a decrepit tower of jenga blocks, ready to crumble at any minute into the absolute mess that Clash Of The Titans is. Barely-there wooden dialogue is delivered by barely-there wooden actors. The only way you can tell Sam Worthington’s Perseus apart from Sam Worthington’s Jake Sully is that in this film he doesn’t spend half of his screen time looking like a giant blue cat. He’s got the looks and a little bit of the charisma for a leading man, but there doesn’t seem to be much else behind it. You could argue that this is because of the poor script, but only time will tell.

Overwrought CGI sequences suffer from Transformers syndrome – jerkily filmed and cut together so that everything sort of looks the same and you never quite really know what it is you’re looking at. When the camera does zoom out from the action, you can see the CGI for what it really is. Sure, it’s an obvious step up from stop-motion. But when it’s the film’s only selling point, at what cost?

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Infectiously funny and super-stylish, Matthew Vaughn sets out to Kick-Ass: review

Stuart McCoLL — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 15:53:49 +0000

Cornwall reviewer Stuart McColl goes vigilante with the stylised, boisterous and energetic Kick-Ass

Adapted from a Mark Millar comic book by Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman (of Stardust and Jonathan Ross’ wife fame), Kick-Ass tells the story of Dave Lizewski, your average American high-school kid, who dreams of doing what nobody else through history has done before – donning a costume and fighting crime – not for accolades or pay, but because it’s the right thing to do.

Dave is imbued with a refreshing moral centre not only by the film’s script, but also by Aaron Johnson’s talented and understated performance. He brings a perfect sense of comedic timing to the film as well as those ‘leading man sensibilities’, which will only continue to grow as his career progresses. Add to this a hugely creditable accent (he’s British) and you have a brilliant piece of casting.

After ordering a $99 wetsuit and mask from the internet, Dave is transformed into Kick-Ass, the sorriest-looking superhero you’re ever likely to see. However, his crime-fighting debut is short-lived – viciously attacked, he is forced into a lengthy recuperation in hospital. The attack leaves him with his only ‘superpower’, that of a few shot nerve endings, and it isn’t long before he takes to the streets again for his sophomore superhero effort, and this time, it’s successful.

Captured on a dozen camera phones, the green-and-yellow crusader’s efforts are rewarded when he becomes an overnight YouTube sensation. Whereas Clark Kent and Peter Parker used old media to help them fight crime, Dave Lizewski puts a new media combination of YouTube and Myspace at his disposal.

His quite reckless temerity and interest in the opposite sex sees Kick-Ass undertake a mission a little bit out of his league. On the ropes and looking like there’s no way back, it’s Kick-Ass’ newly found celebrity that saves him – in the form of a ‘real’ superhero team. Eleven year-old Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz) and her adoring father Big Daddy (A hilarious Nicolas Cage) come to a very violent rescue. The rest of the film sees the three put their lack of powers to the test against crime lord Frank D’Amico (Mark Strong) and his loner teenage son (Chistopher Mintz-Plasse).

Kick-Ass is a frenetic piece of film – ultra-stylised, boisterously soundtracked, lovingly shot and with an energetic pace – it never puts a foot wrong. The adapted script is both witty and exuberant, filled with one-liners that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Judd Apatow production, as well as comic book references that satirise the genre, but also pay homage to it. Everything combines together to create a true testament to Matthew Vaughn’s dogged determination to get the movie made. Originally turned down by the studios, he ended up funding the entire thing off of his own back. And we should be very glad that he did.

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Paul Greengrass tackles the Iraq War – Green Zone: review

Stuart McCoLL — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 12:19:46 +0000

Cornwall reviewer Stuart McColl takes on Green Zone, Paul Greengrass’s foray into an action investigation of the Iraq War.

Paul Greengrass’s Green Zone is an Iraq War film that differs from other, more recent attempts, instead choosing to focus on the politics and the ambiguities surrounding the war rather than the effects of the conflict on its participants. The opening scenes are quick to back this up, intense in feel they create a deeply impending atmosphere.

The first dialogue we hear between various US soldiers reveals that there aren’t enough men on the ground, something we know now to be a recurring problem. There’s confusion and hysteria among both sides and this is reflected in the handheld, quick-cut style that the film is shot in.

Matt Damon plays Officer Roy Miller, a man tasked with leading the search for WMDs during the early days of the Iraq war. After visits to two proclaimed WMD sites turn up nothing but unnecessary casualties, Miller questions the intelligence given to them by an apparently ‘reliable’ source.

These questions lead him down a long and labyrinthine path where nothing is as black-and-white as it seems – a choice excerpt from the film has Poundstone, a Pentagon intelligence officer (Greg Kinnear) telling Miller not to be naive when Miller asks: “I thought we were all on the same side?” Miller links up along the way with a seemingly embittered CIA middle-east expert, Martin Brown (Brendan Gleeson) and a reporter from the Wall Street Journal, Lawrie Dayne (Amy Ryan).

Each has their own reasons for wanting to pursue the truth regarding the WMDs, and the war itself.

Brian Helgeland’s script (inspired by Rajiv Chandrasekaran’s Imperial Life in the Emerald City) does a perfunctory job of making simple a complicated set of affairs. It hurtles along at great speed and is laudable for never pushing the Iraqis into the background to make way for the quarrels and infighting of the Americans.

Comparisons with the Bourne series will obviously be made, but are rather unjust in this case. Green Zone is extremely light on action and Roy Miller is certainly no heir to the throne of Jason Bourne. Green Zone will instead be remembered for being the first film of its generation to tackle the fighting in office rather than the fighting on the ground.

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Martin Scorsese’s haunting Shutter Island: review

Stuart McCoLL — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 13:51:46 +0000

Cornwall reviewer Stuart McColl takes a trip to Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island, and finds things are not all they seem in the paranoia-inducing film

It’s 1954 and US Marshals Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) are dispatched to Shutter Island, home to Ashecliffe hospital for the criminally insane. Their goal is to investigate the disappearance of child murderer Rachel Solando, who has managed to apparently ‘vanish’ from out of her cell.

Shutter Island is Martin Scorsese’s valid attempt at raising a genre movie to a higher level. Adapted from a Dennis Lehane novel, in the hands of another director this could so easily have been another laborious piece filled with ghost girls and cheap scares. Instead, bit by bit, Scorsese takes apart the sanity of our protagonist and that of the audience. There are brief flirtations with the ‘haunted house’ sub-genre, but this is more The Shining than it is The Amityville Horror.

A pounding classical score accompanies our arrival on the island, which creates a deeply foreboding atmosphere from the start. Add to this the apprehensive nature of the guards and we know that something is already amiss, as does Teddy.

Help isn’t exactly forthcoming among the hospital’s staff. Dr Cawley (Sir Ben Kingsley) is distinctly reluctant to offer his services to the two US Marshals, to Teddy’s displeasure. He senses that there’s more to the situation than at first glance, and he’s right. Or is this a creeping paranoia brought on by bad dreams involving his deceased wife and flashbacks to his wartime excursions?

The film’s lakeside scene is beautifully shot and provides a traumatising interlude between the twists and turns that bookend it. And the final twist could leave you with a sense that nothing quite fits together in the end. To look back and piece things together logistically from the beginning would be the easy option. But the beauty of Shutter Island is that we all walk away from it asking questions – including Teddy.

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Ashley Thorpe’s Dartmoor horror legend The Hairy Hands reviewed by Tom Leins

Tom Leins — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 14:03:25 +0000

Devon filmmaker Ashley Thorpe has forged a solid reputation with his sinister succession of short films based on notorious local legends. His latest offering is The Hairy Hands, a vivid, hyper-stylized horror flick that packs an improbable number of chills into its admirably brisk 11 minute run-time.

With a ghoulish line in atmospherics and a welcome attention to detail, The Hairy Hands has a uniquely disquieting vibe, and the sense of foreboding is cranked up one notch at a time. Thorpe coaxes a nuanced performance out of leading man Edward Berry, and he gives this supernatural tale an all-too-plausible edge.

Make no mistake, Ashley Thorpe’s menacing short film will grab you by the throat with its hairy hands, and not let go until the chilling final frame. Freaky folklore just got re-booted for a new generation. Accomplished stuff.

• Find out more about Ashley Thorpe’s films at the Carrion Films site

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A Prophet, at The Barn, Dartington, has elements of a magical epic: review

Robin Whenary — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 21:17:58 +0000

Devon filmmaker Robin Whenary reviews A Prophet, which added the BAFTA for Best Foreign Language Film to its shelf of awards. It’s at The Barn Cinema, Dartington until Thursday, February 25

The title refers to the main character, Malik El Djebena, a 19-year-old man of North African origin, arriving in a French prison to start a six-year term. Without allies, he finds himself forced by Cesar, the aged leader of the Corsican faction, to murder a new Muslim prisoner who is due to be transferred to testify against the mob.

This deed earns him the protection of the Corsicans, who control much of the prison system, and he works his way into Cesar’s core team. Alienated and without a clear identity of his own, the Muslim inmates regard him as a Corsican, and the Corsicans initially regard him distrustfully as an Arab. Malik is haunted by visions of the man he brutally killed, who had books in his cell and had encouraged the illiterate Malik to educate himself. Although mostly set within the prison, Malik and the audience are let out when Cesar arranges for Malik to have day leave, so he can carry out tasks for him on the outside.

The way this comparatively innocent young man has to fight for his survival and then through his almost prophet-like ability, to get himself into a more powerful position, forms the core drama.

Jacques Audiard has said that he wanted to make a genre film to create iconic characters from people unknown in mainstream culture, or only dealt with in a stereotyped or socio-realist way. A Prophet managed to be quite different to my pre-conceived notion of it, formed by a trailer (of which there seem to be many different versions) and an article or two. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but at the risk of sounding pretentious, it wasn’t something with such a varied cinematic palette.

The White Ribbon, its main awards rival, makes an interesting comparison. While it is undoubtedly a masterpiece, Haneke’s perfect formal technique meant it offered few surprises in the way A Prophet did, for me at least, as someone not familiar with Audiard’s previous films. What both films do share is an amazing sense of immanent physical violence and extreme tension, but A Prophet utilises many more filmmaking techniques, and partly because of this is more conventionally entertaining.

The visuals and sounds makes us experience the events subjectively alongside the characters, Malik especially, as if accompanying them. When Malik is driven off on his day leave, we see the trees whizzing by from his viewpoint, not vice-versa. The camerawork is 99 per cent handheld, with two steadier tracking-in shots towards Malik and later Cesar at defining decision moments, and I never got the sense that the camera had been positioned so the scene looked good – always because it served the story and characters. The cinematographer discusses the shooting style in this interview with the AFC.

The sense of freedom when Malik steps outside at dawn on his first day release is beautifully conveyed by quiet birdsong, contrasting with the metallic sounds in the prison. American songs (including hip-hop) are used for dynamic montages conveying a sense of the appeal and excitement of a life of crime, Alexandre Desplat’s mournful orchestral score providing an emotional element.

Malik’s visions of the man he murdered reminds him and us of that defining deed, and add a kind of magical dimension which helps elevate the film to another level. Only once did I think Audiard was going a bit far with the more experimental touches, with a dream sequence montage of running deer, but it paves the way for a stunning later scene which leads another character to use the word ‘prophet’ in relation to Malik.

Niels Arestrup, the actor playing Cesar, when asked about Audiard’s directing of actors, compared him to a sculptor, and the whole film has the feeling of a wonderfully fluid sculpture, fashioned using every tool available. It contains beautiful details amid the taught narrative (I was struck by two shots of leaves, on the ground outside Cesar’s cell and then later on trees), touches on so many issues and themes that it has an epic quality despite the few locations, and is a totally refreshing addition to the crime thriller genre.

Take a gander at one of the many trailers

A Prophet is on at The Barn, Dartington until, Thursday, February 25

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The quiet cumulative power of Still Walking at The Barn, Dartington: review

Robin Whenary — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 17:16:15 +0000

Devon filmmaker Robin Whenary reviews the masterful Still Walking at The Barn Cinema, Dartington runs until Thursday, February 11

This masterful film unfolds over 24 hours, as the middle class Yokoyama family gather at the family home in the leafy suburbs, for an annual reunion to mark the accidental death of the eldest son 15 years ago.

The elderly parents (a stern, non-communicative patriarch, and a mother who has spent most of her life in the kitchen) are visited by their two surviving adult children and their families – the daughter with her jovial husband and two young children, and the younger son with his wife and step-son.

The son, in his early 40s, is anxious to avoid revealing to his parents that he is currently out of work, and is frustrated at being in the shadow of his deceased older brother, his father’s heir. On their way, near the start of the film, he discusses with his wife how they can keep their visit as short as possible.

Hirokazu Kore-eda (writer, director and editor) has said in interviews that he was inspired to make the film after his own mother’s death a few years before, and his feeling of deep regret that he had not spent more time with her towards the end of her life.

Generational differences and family conflicts play out in a gentle, understated way, with moments of humour amid the tension and melancholy. Time, memory and loss seem to be the key preoccupations – the effects of past events on the present, and how what is happening now might affect future behaviour and events. Our viewing experience mirrors this in a way, as we remember earlier moments in the film and wonder how things will develop. Meaning is gained over time, and the viewer is kept constantly involved. There are few overtly dramatic moments, just wonderful observation of character, behaviour, and absorbing details, and it all has a quiet cumulative power.

In many films it seems as though the environment surrounding the humans is of little or no importance, but here it is everything. The house is effectively a character in itself, and when we see the empty rooms later on it evokes a sense of loss, as we remember the human interaction we’ve seen in these spaces earlier in the film.

Household objects and possessions are used to reveal the psychology of the characters, and family differences are intermingled with the sharing of simple pleasures – such as eating the mother’s special corn fritters. In these moments, connecting on a basic level through shared experiences, the personal agendas and mental barriers lessen to varying degrees and the characters seem most ‘alive’.

Much has been written about this film being inspired by the work of Yasujiro Ozu (Tokyo Story especially), but Kore-eda himself has stated that while it shares similar themes and motifs (including more than one passing train!), in terms of technique he was more inspired by Mikio Naruse and Ken Loach. It is certainly less formally rigid than Ozu, who mostly kept the camera near to the ground with a 50mm lens. Kore-eda does keep camera movements to a minimum (thereby giving them more power), and keeps the framing mostly static, but that is about as far as the comparison goes.

His use of telephoto lenses effectively compresses space and gives the impression the characters are walking slowly. The editing is also striking, often allowing characters to enter and leave the shot, thereby giving more prominence to the space around them and evoking a sense of time passing.

Kore-eda discusses his stylistic approach to the film in an interview with the AV Club.

Still Walking has something to offer everyone, and I cannot recommend it enough. It doesn’t offer any revelations, but is profoundly moving and ultimately uplifting because of its truthfulness.

Here’s the trailer

Still Walking is on at The Barn, Dartington until, Thursday, February 11

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