Last updated 7th February, 2008.
New films reviewed for this year, in reverse order of being seen, are:- All the Boys Love Mandy Lane; Definitely, Maybe; National Treasure: Book of Secrets; The Diving Bell and the Butterfly; Cloverfield; Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street; Alien vs Predator: Requiem; Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story; In the Valley of Elah and Charlie Wilson's War. I'm not able to review everything I see on this page, but if you'd like to read more you can look up my work at Eye For Film.
Mandy Lane is different
It's high school. We've all seen the way it works. Teenagers dizzy with hormones compete to impress one another. Everybody's chasing somebody. But all the boys (and, the opening sequence suggests, some of the girls) are just crazy about Mandy Lane. With honey-coloured hair and milky white skin, straight A grades and legs which win her every running contest, Mandy is the archetypal breaker of teenage hearts - yet she stands out from the crowd even further because she simply isn't interested in the dating game. A past family tragedy has distanced her from those around her. She's friendly, practical, considerate and charming, but she seems unlikely ever to yield to anyone's advances. So a group of the boys concoct a plan to lure Mandy away for a weekend in remote ranch where everyone can get drunk and they'll each have the chance to make a pass at her.
We've all encountered these horror movie stock-in-trades before. A group of kids partying in a house in the middle of nowhere. Pissing off a truck driver on the way there. Being rude to the surly (yet handsome) ranch hand with a mysterious past. Drinking too much. Having inconsiderate casual sex. There are guns in the house, and poisonous snakes round about; there's a windmill with nasty looking blades. All sorts of opportunities for classic slasher movie violence await. But this is a film which knows what it's doing. Handling the cliches expertly, playfully, it's all the while taking us somewhere quite different.
Fans of traditional slasher movie will love this film, but so will a lot of people who wouldn't normally touch them. From the start, the sharp dialogue and strong sense of character draw the viewer in. There ought to be a fair bit of horror in Mandy's situation alone, vulnerable as she is, and the film acknowledges this, but it does so cleverly in a way which still allows us room to care about the boys. These are all flawed and often unpleasant people, but they're still people. And yet Mandy is different. Her grace and level-headedness draw us closer to her as the story unfolds. As her aunt says, she knows how to look after herself. She's not about to be taken advantage of by anybody. She is the final girl to end all final girls. Yet the signposting of this, by way of the title, weakens the story not one bit.
Beautifully shot, with intelligent use of desaturated imagery and vivid overexposures, this is a film which takes us back to the old days when horror movies were at the cutting edge of artistic exploration on celluloid. It's deceptively simple, its fine judgement seducing the viewer almost without them being aware of it. And it's a long time since any film had a heroine like this, finding her own direction despite everyone else's attempts to objectify her. By the end, you'll be head over heels in love with Mandy Lane too, though you might not like yourself for it.
Not many romantic comedies start with a divorce. Especially one involving a child. Political consultant Will Hayes' happy home has already disintegrated, probably beyond repair, and now he's just trying to do the right things and make sure it stays amicable, make sure his little girl is okay. Young Maya doesn't feel okay. She's struggling to find a way of understanding what happened to her parents' dream. So she bullies her father into telling her the story of his past relationships. He agrees on one condition - that he'll change the names, so she won't find out which of the three important women in his life is her mother until the end.
It's a strong premise for an essentially lightweight film, but Definitely, Maybe handles it well. The pacing is excellent throughout and the three stories intermingle to keep the viewer guessing (though the very end of the film won't come as a surprise to anyone). It's lifted above the usual genre fare by an intelligent, thorough script which properly substantiates every character and gives us plenty of background detail - we see them not only in the context of their relationships, but in their day-to-day lives. Will's everyday life starts out with him working for Bill Clinton's election campaign and there's a lot of political humour in here too - none of it deep, but plenty of it entertaining.
Will's first love is Emily (Elizabeth Banks), his college sweetheart, the weakest of the three female characters but nevertheless effective, always more complicated than he expects. The second is Summer, played by a simmering Rachel Weisz, stylish and aggressive and almost certainly too much for him. The third is April, a playful Isla Fisher, somebody whose life always seems to be going in a different direction. Unfortunately, having presented us with these three attractive, capable women, the story utterly fails to explain why they would fall for Will, who is unfailingly bland - but that's par for the course in a story like this and is rendered less problematic when we remember that we're examining him largely through the eyes of a child (the capable though sometimes mawkish Abigail Breslin) for whose sake he may be sanitising a few things - when he remembers to.
The film's biggest problem is, perhaps, that it's so centered on Will's vision of the world that events conspire to fit in with his expectations and beliefs rather more than seems appropriate. Everybody has to be hip and upwardly mobile yet curiously traditional at the same time - there's no room for Summer's professional life to eclipse Will's (even temporarily), or for April to find satisfaction working in a bookshop. If a woman does something out of the ordinary, it's really because of her feelings for a man. Sometimes this gets in the way of natural character development, and character is what the whole atmosphere of the film depends on. That said, there are some excellent character moments here, such as Kevin Kline's turn as an aging alcoholic writer with a fondness for women less than half his age.
Definitely, Maybe isn't as sophisticated a film as it likes to think, but it does the basics very well indeed. It never patronises its audience and it really delivers on the emotional front. If you're the sort of person who cries easily at films, make sure you have a whole box of tissues with you, but be assured that you'll come out smiling.
The successful family adventure movie is a rare thing these days, and in that context, this sequel comes as little surprise, with Nicolas Cage returning to the role of impetuous treasure hunter Ben Gates. This time around, he doesn't even know what he's looking for - but he does know why. His great, great grandfather has been accused of involvement in the assassination of Abraham Lincoln and Gates is determined to clear his name. But rival treasure hunter Mitch Wilkinson (Ed Harris) is also on the trail, and Gates has a way of getting into trouble.
With an unchallenging plot, some interesting facts thrown in for history fans, and likable characters, this is an unpretentious, entertaining film which adults as well as kids can enjoy. That said, it doesn't quite live up to the standard set by its predecessor. During the clue-seeking stage of the plot, it's too concerned with imitation to develop any real character of its own. The puzzles themselves aren't very interesting and many of the discovery scenes feel rushed. This part of the film also suffers badly from the journey across the Atlantic, as it's doubtful that many UK viewers will be awestruck by the idea of visiting the Oval Office or will find it easy to identify with the strain of patriotism which courses through the story. The latter part of the film, however, is much more universally accessible, as our heroes explore trap-filled underground caverns, at the mercy of their ancient designers. It's a shame it tries so hard to imitate Indiana Jones, which again makes it difficult for it to find its own voice. Even the cobwebs look familiar. Unlike Jones' adventures, though, this suffers from an overly generous ending which weakens its emotional impact.
Despite these problems, there's plenty of action here for younger audiences to enjoy, whilst adults will admire the solid performances from an accomplished cast including Helen Mirren, Jon Voight and Harvey Keitel. Diane Kruger appears to have had a charisma bypass operation as Gates' ex-girlfriend Abigail, but Justin Bartha makes an engaging sidekick. Bruce Greenwood plays a personable but unconvincingly well-educated president.
It is, of course, quite unreasonable to think Gates could get away with the sort of stunts he pulls throughout this film, but National Treasure: Book of Secrets is not the kind of story where believability is terribly important. It charms, it thrills, and you'll have forgotten it a week later, so enjoy it whilst you can.
In 1995, Jean-Dominique Bauby, the editor of Elle France, suffered a stroke which put him in a coma for three weeks and left him almost completely paralysed. Still in full possession of his mental faculties, he was a victim of what is known as locked-in syndrome - he could observe the world around him but was unable to participate in it. However, Bauby was still able to move his left eye, and by a painfully slow process of blinking to indicate letter choice, he was able to spell out words, to communicate, and ultimately to write his memoirs.
There are many film narratives in which an interesting life story is ended by abruptly acquired disability. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is something quite different. Although there are some flashbacks, this is primarily the story of Bauby's experience after he became incapacitated, beginning with the moment he first opened his eye. It's necessarily slow and tortuous (it's not a film for impatient viewers) but it's a powerful story, a fascinating insight into extreme human experience and a testament to the fact that Bauby did not cease to be an complex and passionate individual when he ceased to be 'normal'. No effort has been made to sanitise his bitterness and frustration, yet the experience is alleviated somewhat for the viewer by his dry wit. Even in this condition, he's a charismatic man, and he continues to find himself surrounded by beautiful young women. As she painstakingly takes down the dictation of his book, publisher's assistant Claude begins to fall in love with him. But Bauby's experience has made him rethink his relationships with women and he gradually finds himself less willing to simply let fate take its course.
In December 2006 I suffered a stroke myself. I was in a coma for eight days and, as I slowly emerged from it, there were moments when I thought I might find myself in Bauby's position. This film was so accurate in its recreation of that experience that at times I found it very hard to watch. It's a testament to the brilliance of Bauby's writing that he was able to convey what he went through so effectively and in such detail, and Julian Schnabel's direction is inspired. This is by no means a dull film. Once it gets going - once Bauby starts to move beyond his initial panic and despair - it blossoms into a poetic voyage through memory and imagination, a sensual journey in which Bauby uses the power of his mind to liberate himself from his surroundings. Though he feels as if he is trapped inside a diving bell, he can nonetheless fly like a butterfly through all the landscapes he has ever known or dreamed of. In one early scene he is visited by a friend who was held hostage in Beirut, and they consider how it is possible to use the imagination to resist insanity and hold onto what is human.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a truly cutting-edge piece of cinema, daring and imaginative, quite unlike anything else you'll see this year. It's an invitation to find a still place, sitting in the dark, and let the mind wander - and isn't that, in the end, what cinema is all about?
One of the most eagerly anticipated films for years, Cloverfield arrives on a wave of hype so big that many people report they're afraid to see it in case of 'inevitable' disappointment.
Don't be afraid. Be very afraid.
Be afraid not of disappointment. Though one of my fellow critics came out of this film moping loudly about inaccuracies in its depiction of video equipment (a fair point), most of us were on the edge of our seats throughout, and the general response was enormously positive. Be afraid of massive stomping ferocious monsters. Be afraid of buildings falling on you. Be afraid of smaller monsters scuttling around unseen, just waiting for the chance to strike. If you're looking for action, if you're looking for thrills, Cloverfield delivers.
This film works on a very simple premise - it could happen to you. Perhaps not in the form of a great big slavering monster; but then again, what if it did? We open with a group of friends enjoying a party. There's some fooling around, friendly banter, social clumsiness; the guy with the camera gets too nosy about other people's personal lives and then can't resist telling everyone what he's heard. The party is for Rob, who is due to leave and start a new job in Japan. It's easy to identify with these everyday people, a smart script and simple but effective performances getting us much closer than is usually possible in a horror or disaster movie. It's easy to feel as if we're at the party too. And then...
It comes out of nowhere, as disasters always do. Strange to watch people struggling in a panic to escape Manhattan when I've heard the stories of friends who've done that for real, but this film wastes no time on reflection or on trying to compare itself to past events. The sudden destruction we witness is on a scale beyond anything seen before. Those young party-goers we manage to stay with are stunned, standing around in the street trying to make their phones work, then running, hiding, desperately trying to hold on to one another - just trying to stay alive. Not all their decisions are the best, but they have very little time in which to think. The film doesn't try to tackle any big questions. What is this creature? Where did it come from? Why is it doing this? Our heroes don't know. They have other things to worry about.
Have you ever watched a Godzilla film and wondered what it would be like to see Tokyo stomped from ground level? Cloverfield takes that premise and runs with it, but this monster has none of Godzilla's quirky charm. We see it only fleetingly - a glimpse of tail here, a limb there. Gradually we build up a picture of alien horror. When we finally get a full-on view, it works surprisingly well, not the rubbery disappointment one might expect. It's weird, true, but in a genuinely alien sort of way. And, again, we have bigger things to worry about.
From a technical point of view, this is an enormously impressive film. The set design is stunning, especially where the camcorder through which we see everything is dropped and spins around. Frantic, blurry scenes always give us just enough information. You may have heard reports of people throwing up as a result of motion sickness from watching this film, but everyone in my screening was fine. Clumsy early camerawork settles down into something not quite so realistic but a lot more watchable.
It's said that monster movies are going to be the next big thing in Hollywood. If so, Cloverfield has given them a lot to live up to. Perhaps they're symptomatic of an age in which we feel we have less and less control over the big events in our lives, an age where we're told we should expect sudden disasters. But this isn't a film which requires intellectual depth. This is action in its purest sense.
One final thing worth noting about Cloverfield is its tremendous score, especially the Roar overture which plays during the closing credits. There are 12 minutes of these but it really is worth staying to the end, not because of any further revelations (although there is a brief burst of sound which, played backwards, delivers a predictably sequel-friendly message) but simply to listen to the music. You'll understand when you hear it.
Cloverfield is not a perfect film but it's far from a disaster. And it seems unlikely that you'll see many this year which are anything like as much fun.
Edward Scissorhands is back - and this time he's mad.
Once upon a time there was a barber. The barber had a wife, and she was beautiful. But he was naïve. Such is the legend which begins this torrid tale of obsessive love, jealousy, corruption and revenge. As the organ booms out its furious notes over the opening credits, we know we're in for quite a ride. The illustrious names which appear on the bloodstained screen can only add to this impression, and it's safe to say that every one of them is on top form. Johnny Depp gives one of the greatest performances of his career as the terrifying, vengeful, yet curiously innocent Todd, a complex anti-hero returned from slavery in search of justice - or, failing that, in search of blood. He is matched by a superb Helena Bonham-Carter as Mrs. Lovett, maker of the worst pies in London, hopelessly besotted and at first an apparent victim, though she turns out to have some dark secrets of her own. This is an archetypal gothic tale with little room for redemption or salvation, but it's thrillingly told and dazzling throughout.
From a purely technical point of view, this is undoubtedly Tim Burton's greatest work to date. Its grimly muted visuals conjure up all the squalor of nineteenth century London, yet it is exquisitely shot, with a patchwork of ambitious images blending seamlessly into the whole. Bright red blood comes as a relief and scatters across the sets with Cormanesque glee. The lighting is inspired and the simple sets brought to life by vivid camerawork.
If the film has any weaknesses, they are in pacing - there are couple of moments when it slows more than it should - and in the casting of Jamie Campbell Bower as Todd's sometime colleage, now enamoured with his lost daughter. Bower looks the part and is believably naïve himself, but he doesn't have the weight to work alongside the other actors. Young Ed Sanders acquits himself better as the child whom Mrs. Lovett takes in, but handles himself awkwardly in his most complex scene. To counter this, however, there's some terrific work from Alan Rickman as the judge who once condemned Todd, and Sacha Baron Cohen's turn as rival barber Pirelli is a delight. There's always too much happening for the weaker performances to significantly detract from the whole. The tremendous tension which builds up at the start is never allowed to slacken as we watch Todd and his companions dance inexorably toward their doom.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street will almost certainly emerge as one of this year's finest films. Don't miss it.
This is, without a doubt, one of the most badly made big-budget films I have ever seen. It's difficult to imagine how one could take two concepts as well developed as Aliens and Predators and come up with something this weak. But that said, it's still highly entertaining, and, though I wouldn't go out of my way to do so, I'd quite happily watch it again.
The story picks up where AVP left off, with a chestburster emerging from a Predator corpse. Within minutes, this creature is fully grown (if you thought the life cycle in AVP was stupidly speeded up, you ain't seen nothin' yet - any sufficiently advanced idiocy is indistinguishable from magic) and is ravaging the Predator spaceship. This is easier because the huge vessel we saw in the last film has now been inexplicably compressed into a gadget-packed broom cupboard. Nevertheless, one brave dying Predator manages to send out a distress signal before the ship crash-lands on Earth. The laws of physics are away on their tea break during its descent so it doesn't create a massive crater and a few centuries of darkness, but it does rather startle a father and son who are out on a hunting trip. Then the alien embryos escape from the wreckage, with predictable consequences.
We are introduced to the inhabitants of the nearby mll town as if this were a disaster movie, which essentially is is, just with monsters instead of a half-hearted earthquake or volcano. A bullied teenager swoons over a dim girl who takes her clothes off at any opportunity. His reformed criminal brother banters with the useless sheriff, the two of them producing stand out bad performances which are delightful to watch. There's a soldier just back from the war to tell her husband and small daughter how much she loves them. A waitress worries about her policeman partner and two dope-smoking gun store owners provide apparently intentional, garishly inappropriate comic relief.
There should be no relief of any kind in an Alien or Predator film. The relentlessness of the monsters is part of what makes them work. The Aliens should also be creepy, of course, which is completely lost here, as we see very little of them doing their own thing and the kills they make are far too clean. An interesting opportunity to play psychological games with a maternity hospital scene iscompletely squandered and instead we get a close-up of the nasty Alien followed by a shot of some poor imperilled babies, then cut to another scene. What next? Is the Alien going to trample on some flowers? Is it going to espouse some unsavoury political opinions? Fortunately the Predators come off better. Answering the distress signal comes a solitary CSI-type Predator on a mission to cover up the evidence and kill everything with too many mouths. Instead of the ritual weapons from AVP he's carrying all the latest tech, and some of this is genuinely cool. He fights intelligently and the few bits of monster on monster action we get are lots of fun, even if they do suffer from woefully inadequate cinematography.
If you're looking for violence, running around, shouting, cheesy quotations and shiny-looking monsters, this film delivers. Ultimately, though, the biggest shock is that the directors put their names in the credits.
Do you find the title of this film funny? If deadpan double entendres are your thing and you like seeing pictures of people's naughty bits, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story could be for you. It's like a two hour episode of Finbarr Saunders, but without the pay-off at the end.
There's a golden rule in Hollywood comedy: if you can't come up with a story of your own, try to spoof somebody else's. Doubtless someone figured that the rock n' roll biopic was an easy target. The trouble is, like the Austin Powers films (though without Mike Myers' charm), this attempts to take the piss out of its subject matter without understanding the humour which was already there. So what we get is not an affectionate, witty comment on the genre, like This Is Spinal Tap, but a story which is ultimately less amusing and a lot less interesting than the originals. And because it sticks so tightly to formula, Walk Hard is devoid of any creative potential of its own.
Some aspects of this film are well handled. The music generally works, though it's unfortunate that Dewey's masterpiece is quite so mediocre. There are a lot of genuinely clever references to other rock n' roll films but most of these are so subtle that they'll go over the heads of its natural audience. Some of the period sequences work well, though the much vaunted Beatles sequence looks as though it was put together in a hurry by art students who only ever heard the music second hand. None of the actors playing real life characters look at all like them, and since none of them can act either, those scenes fall rather flat.
It's clear that this film works for some people. Several reviewers in the screening I attended were laughing out loud. It did have its moments - I laughed twice myself. But if you repeat the same joke that many times you're bound to get it right eventually. Ultimately there's just no substance to this, no reason to care about the characters, no plot and no point. Walk hard? Walk away.
Films about the legacy of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have been a long time coming but seem likely to become prolific now. If course, in some families, one can never get away from the subject of war. Former military investigator Hank Deerfield never pushed his boys to follow in his footsteps but they did so nonetheless. The oldest was killed when his helicopter was shot down. Now the other one has gone missing, AWOL from a military base just days after returning from Iraq. Disatisfied with the official attitude that he'll probably return in a few days, Hank drives over there and begins a thorough investigation of his own. What he discovers forces him to question his whole way of life.
In the Valley of Elah has already been compared to CSI, which it mimics pretty closely for much of its length, especially when Hank is working alongside police detective Emily Sanders. Certain aspects of the story are painfully contrived. Hank turns his son's phone over to a hacker and gradually receives disturbing videos via email. An unnecessary number of rather pedestrian twists and turns litter the plot. The very last scene is pure cheese, and is only made worse by a resurgence of the awful soundtrack. But all these complaints aside, this is still a very fine film. With the bandage strapped across Emily's nose, it makes no secret about trying to be Chinatown, but surprisingly this doesn't come off too badly. Charlize Theron is one of few actors working today with the sheer force of personality to give Jack Nicholson a run for his money, even in this quietly spoken role. There's no showy acting on display here, but the performances are uniformly excellent, especially from Tommy Lee Jones in the lead. He captures perfectly the practised calm of a man who has spent a lifetime dealing with crises of one sort or another, yet the agony caused by the personal nature of this situation is visible just below the surface. As his wife, meanwhile, Susan Sarandon expresses both their distress with an intense performance balanced by sharp editing.
Whilst starting out as a fairly routine investigation, In the Valley of Elah ultimately takes a twist which goes beyond the simple mechanics of the plot. Though its message is a familiar one it gains new authority from the context in which it is presented. Hank has some tough things to learn about his son, as about himself - and, in the end, about the country he continues to love. As tiny details are pieced together to build a picture bigger than anyone intended, this becomes less about David taking on Goliath and more about David growing up to become uncomfortably tall himself.
The real horrors of the long Afghani-Soviet war are only glimpsed in this film, but perhaps that's appropriate. Those who paid attention at the time will never need reminding, whilst most people, as the unfolding story illustrates, never gave a damn. Not so Senator Charlie Wilson, whose attention is caught by news footage whilst he relaxes in a hot tub with strippers. When, a few days later, the sixth richest woman in Texas calls him up and invites him to a fundraiser in support of Afghan rebels, he's cynical but ready to listen. She's not shy about her agenda. "I want you to save Afghanistan for the Afghans," she says. And that's what Charlie tries to do.
Based on a true story, Charlie Wilson's War combines sharp political drama with what is essentially a feelgood story about naive but passionate people who aim to use their power to do good in the world. The trouble is, of course, that the world isn't really that simple. Tom Hanks is superb as the charismatic senator, "a man with several personality flaws" who is nevertheless charming and full of good intentions. Completely losing himself in the character, Hanks comes on like a classic good versus evil hero, sympathetic even when he's talking quite plainly about "killing some Russians", and handling his inevitable disillusionment with impressive delicacy. This is really the finest performance of his career, and he's ably matched by Julia Roberts, complete with terrifying Texan hair, making the most of her scant screen time to remind us of the unseen forces in American politics. This, too, is deftly handled - we get a glimpse of right wing extremism and Commie-hating which helps to throw the political posturing elsewhere in the film into sharp relief. Likewise Philip Seymour Hoffman's superb performance as CIA man Gust Avrakotos neatly undercuts conspiracy theories. For a film about politics and fence sitting, this does a fine job of political fence-sitting, but in so doing it provides a convincing portrait of America's democracy as contrasted with alternative regimes around the world.
Charlie Wilson's War is a glossy film, sleek and polished, and this is occasionally to its detriment, as the Afghani scenes we do see don't quite have the impact they should, but perhaps that reflects the inevitable distance between these two worlds, a gap even its most determined heroes cannot cross. Ironically it presents the very image of America which angers extremists around the world, entirely glossing over home grown suffering. It's an odd thing to watch in the current climate - hearing, for instance, comments on the Bhutto assassination and having to remind oneself that they're not referring to Benazir. As a slice of history it's compelling and it seems quite aware of its limits.
Last updated 7th February, 2008.