As previously mentioned, I’m a big Marvel fan, and the Fantastic Four happen to be one of my favourites. The first film in this serious was not a total success, but what it did very well was set up the squabbling dynamics of comics’ First Family. The sequel continues in this tradition, and successfully introduces another important member of the Marvel Universe. Unfortunately, it suffers from the first instalment’s problem with storyline and set pieces.
The film opens with Sue and Reed planning their wedding and their future life outside of super-heroics, much to the disappointment of their team mates Johnny and Ben. The ceremony is rudely interrupted by a mysterious silver figure on a surfboard causing mayhem in Manhattan. This is the Silver Surfer, the herald of Galactus: Devourer of Worlds, and not your ideal wedding guest. The Surfer’s arrival, you see, signifies that there are just a few days for Mr Fantastic, the Invisible Woman, The Human Torch, and The Thing to stop this world being devoured too.
The Surfer looks great; it’s such a relief to see a comic character remain unchanged in the journey from page to screen, but with the Silver Surfer, this is unsurprising. He is so cool-looking, and would be designed the same today as he was in the 60s. All the four main players fit their characters very well, taking the Mickey out of each other whilst still being adorable (apart from when Mr Fantastic is using his powers, which is just creepy). I do wish they’d left out Dr. Doom, though, a character that didn’t work in the first film; his presence here is unnecessary and not well explained. The physical appearance of Galactus was a bit of a disappointment, too. However, it is possible to just lie back and enjoy the nice jokes and special effects, and not analyse the plot too much. If one does that, then this move is a fun ride.
Sunday, 5 August 2007
Review - Ocean's Thirteen
I have never been more bored in a cinema than when watching Ocean’s Thirteen. Silent Hill was excruciating, but at least I was confused and mildly repulsed, sustaining my interest minutely. This film, on the other hand, is such a one-note affair, with no emotional content whatsoever, that it is hard to stay awake. For a film about a daring heist, this is quite an achievement.
The problem is that everyone is trying to be so suave that they turn into nothing more than cool robots: coolbots, if you will. These coolbots, with the faces of usually charming actors (Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Matt Damon et al.) wander around organising the comeuppance of a casino owner (an unusually subdued Al Pacino, considering he’s playing the baddy) for two long hours. Given the lousy, slow, unfunny build up, you’d have hoped for an exciting denouement when the actual heist occurs, but even that is boring. The trouble with really cool people is that they don’t care about anything; if the characters relished all this double-crossing and the thrill of the chase (if there was a thrill of the chase, even), this would have been a diverting movie. As it is, it’s Yawnsville.
The production design, on the other hand, is excellent. The sets are easily the most interesting bit of the film, so if you have to see this, keep your eyes on the background.
The problem is that everyone is trying to be so suave that they turn into nothing more than cool robots: coolbots, if you will. These coolbots, with the faces of usually charming actors (Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Matt Damon et al.) wander around organising the comeuppance of a casino owner (an unusually subdued Al Pacino, considering he’s playing the baddy) for two long hours. Given the lousy, slow, unfunny build up, you’d have hoped for an exciting denouement when the actual heist occurs, but even that is boring. The trouble with really cool people is that they don’t care about anything; if the characters relished all this double-crossing and the thrill of the chase (if there was a thrill of the chase, even), this would have been a diverting movie. As it is, it’s Yawnsville.
The production design, on the other hand, is excellent. The sets are easily the most interesting bit of the film, so if you have to see this, keep your eyes on the background.
Thursday, 26 July 2007
Review - Magicians
Magicians has the same writers and cast as Peep Show, so I was very excited about seing it, as I love that sitcom. I quote it most days. In fact, I am basically Mark Corrigan. Unfortunately Magicians isn’t as good as Peep Show, but it still tickled my funny bone.
David Mitchell and Robert Webb (them off the British Mac adverts, if you are an idiot and don’t watch Peep Show) play a duo of successful magicians. After a particularly nasty incident, the two vow never to speak and go their separate ways, both ways leading to obscurity. Years later, they enter the same magic competition, intent to out-do the other.
The plot is perfectly adequate, and allows for lots of cameos and some nice romantic subplots. Jessica Hynes (née Stevenson, co-creator of Spaced, making me wish all over again that she was doing as well as Simon Pegg) was absolutely lovely as Mitchell’s love interest, and the great Peter Capaldi was as deliciously mean as ever in the role of the competition’s judge. The two leads play the same characters they always play, just a bit nicer (so, basically themselves, then). Unsurprisingly, they can do this well.
The writing is good, but judging by the rest of the audience’s reaction, I’m not sure that it’s to everyone’s taste. However, the work of the writers Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain, laced with pop cultural references and great phrasing, is exactly what amuses me. If they hadn’t produced such great televisual work (which also includes The Thick of It), then this would be considered a good (but not great) comedy, but expectations were so high. The central device of Peep Show, having everything from the character’s perspective and hearing their inner-thoughts, is missing, and once gone you realise what a useful and important element it is. Without it we just have two quite nice magicians doing magic with some funny jokes. All in all, a missed opportunity.
David Mitchell and Robert Webb (them off the British Mac adverts, if you are an idiot and don’t watch Peep Show) play a duo of successful magicians. After a particularly nasty incident, the two vow never to speak and go their separate ways, both ways leading to obscurity. Years later, they enter the same magic competition, intent to out-do the other.
The plot is perfectly adequate, and allows for lots of cameos and some nice romantic subplots. Jessica Hynes (née Stevenson, co-creator of Spaced, making me wish all over again that she was doing as well as Simon Pegg) was absolutely lovely as Mitchell’s love interest, and the great Peter Capaldi was as deliciously mean as ever in the role of the competition’s judge. The two leads play the same characters they always play, just a bit nicer (so, basically themselves, then). Unsurprisingly, they can do this well.
The writing is good, but judging by the rest of the audience’s reaction, I’m not sure that it’s to everyone’s taste. However, the work of the writers Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain, laced with pop cultural references and great phrasing, is exactly what amuses me. If they hadn’t produced such great televisual work (which also includes The Thick of It), then this would be considered a good (but not great) comedy, but expectations were so high. The central device of Peep Show, having everything from the character’s perspective and hearing their inner-thoughts, is missing, and once gone you realise what a useful and important element it is. Without it we just have two quite nice magicians doing magic with some funny jokes. All in all, a missed opportunity.
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
Review - This is England
This is England starts with a Non-Uniform Day, something I never expected to see in a film. Unlike Americans, we British are not used to the rituals of our school lives being shown on screen. They only get on Grange Hill, and isn’t even on the telly anymore. It is little details like this that make This is England such a joy, showing vividly what it was like to grow up in Thatcher’s Britain.
It is 1983, and 12-year-old Shaun (Thomas Turgoose) is trying to come to terms with the death of his father in the Falklands. He has no friends, and the other kids tease him about his flares and his dead dad. A chance meeting with a group of skin-heads change all that, giving him somewhere to belong, almost a new family. This new sense of security is shattered by the arrival of Combo (Stephen Graham on terrifying form), a volatile National Front supporter, straight from prison, and things get serious for Shaun very quickly. The director Shane Meadows shows how it is all too easy to get sucked into this dark world. The easy answers Combo offers are attractive to this boy that has been so disappointed by life.
This is a film full of small moments, many hilarious, and all so real; it is no surprise to learn that Meadows based it on his own experiences. With the exception of Combo, all the characters are such reasonable people (something you rarely see in films), and even he is so well-drawn that he has your sympathy. The cast of largely unknowns are wonderful, completely becoming their characters; there isn’t a second where you don’t feel you are in 1983. Turgoose is great, tough but still cute, and Jo Hartley is spot-on as his concerned mum. Joseph Gilgun as Woody, the head of the nice skin-heads, is so charming, you just want to be his best friend too. Some of the funniest scenes feature the romance between Shaun and Smell, a sort of Girl George played sweetly by Rosamund Hanson.
This is England reminds me of a sort of low-key British version of Goodfellas: it takes you from hilarity to poignancy to bursts of violence to seriousness and back in a blink of an eye, and does so seamlessly. A film full of cool clothes, cooler music, quotable lines, and realistic characters, it is ripe to become a cult classic. And it may just be my favourite British film of all time.
It is 1983, and 12-year-old Shaun (Thomas Turgoose) is trying to come to terms with the death of his father in the Falklands. He has no friends, and the other kids tease him about his flares and his dead dad. A chance meeting with a group of skin-heads change all that, giving him somewhere to belong, almost a new family. This new sense of security is shattered by the arrival of Combo (Stephen Graham on terrifying form), a volatile National Front supporter, straight from prison, and things get serious for Shaun very quickly. The director Shane Meadows shows how it is all too easy to get sucked into this dark world. The easy answers Combo offers are attractive to this boy that has been so disappointed by life.
This is a film full of small moments, many hilarious, and all so real; it is no surprise to learn that Meadows based it on his own experiences. With the exception of Combo, all the characters are such reasonable people (something you rarely see in films), and even he is so well-drawn that he has your sympathy. The cast of largely unknowns are wonderful, completely becoming their characters; there isn’t a second where you don’t feel you are in 1983. Turgoose is great, tough but still cute, and Jo Hartley is spot-on as his concerned mum. Joseph Gilgun as Woody, the head of the nice skin-heads, is so charming, you just want to be his best friend too. Some of the funniest scenes feature the romance between Shaun and Smell, a sort of Girl George played sweetly by Rosamund Hanson.
This is England reminds me of a sort of low-key British version of Goodfellas: it takes you from hilarity to poignancy to bursts of violence to seriousness and back in a blink of an eye, and does so seamlessly. A film full of cool clothes, cooler music, quotable lines, and realistic characters, it is ripe to become a cult classic. And it may just be my favourite British film of all time.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Review - Das Leben Der Anderen (The Lives of Others)
We in Britain have had a period of unprecedented peace, freedom and prosperity in the last 60 years, so it is easy to forget that parts of Europe very near us have not been so lucky. The Lives of Others reminds us that up until 1989, half of Germany was under the heel of a very repressive regime; East Germany was an Orwellian nightmare of suspicion, fear, and knocks on the door in the middle of the night, and all in shades of beige and grey. By expertly telling the story of a few characters, the director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck has managed to at once dig up the ghosts of the past for the German people, and exorcise them somewhat. Setting aside the political aspects, this is still an excellent human story of quiet heroism.
Set in the early 1980s, the film focuses on Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), the most successful playwright in the GDR. In fact, he is the only playwright in the GDR, since the Communist Party has deemed all others enemies of the state, forcing them to defect or go into excile. He has his leading lady, Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck) for a lover, and friends in high places. Everything is going swimmingly for him until Christa-Maria catches the eye of a leading party official, who sets the Stasi on Georg. It is the job of Stasi officer Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) to monitor his every move and listen to his every conversation, anything to find an indiscretion. The lives of these two men are to become intwined in a carefully crafted and very moving way.
Highlights of a great cast start with Koch, who so impressed in Zwarteboek (Black Book). Not good-looking in the conventional sense, there is still something magnetic about him; he plays the slightly bohemian, yet-still-trying-to-tow-the-party-line, Dreyman with just the right mix of confidence and uncertainty. Mühe (Kevin-Spacey-as-Lex-Luthor’s double) gives a subtle and measured performance as the shy Stasi man. So subtle and measured, in fact, that it was sometimes hard to follow what he was doing and why (my only criticism of the film, and a small one at that as the story unfolds). Gedeck creates a strong and intelligent character who is more than a love interest, something I fear is rare in English-language cinema.
The Lives of Others deservedly won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar this year. It is a ode to the man who quietly makes a difference, who makes sacrifices and doesn’t ask for recognition. By bringing light to East Germany’s murky history, it has brought up the uncomfortable truth that people were giving up their friends and loved ones to the Secret Police only twenty years ago. By telling this one tale, many people will now feel free to tell their own.
Set in the early 1980s, the film focuses on Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), the most successful playwright in the GDR. In fact, he is the only playwright in the GDR, since the Communist Party has deemed all others enemies of the state, forcing them to defect or go into excile. He has his leading lady, Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck) for a lover, and friends in high places. Everything is going swimmingly for him until Christa-Maria catches the eye of a leading party official, who sets the Stasi on Georg. It is the job of Stasi officer Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) to monitor his every move and listen to his every conversation, anything to find an indiscretion. The lives of these two men are to become intwined in a carefully crafted and very moving way.
Highlights of a great cast start with Koch, who so impressed in Zwarteboek (Black Book). Not good-looking in the conventional sense, there is still something magnetic about him; he plays the slightly bohemian, yet-still-trying-to-tow-the-party-line, Dreyman with just the right mix of confidence and uncertainty. Mühe (Kevin-Spacey-as-Lex-Luthor’s double) gives a subtle and measured performance as the shy Stasi man. So subtle and measured, in fact, that it was sometimes hard to follow what he was doing and why (my only criticism of the film, and a small one at that as the story unfolds). Gedeck creates a strong and intelligent character who is more than a love interest, something I fear is rare in English-language cinema.
The Lives of Others deservedly won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar this year. It is a ode to the man who quietly makes a difference, who makes sacrifices and doesn’t ask for recognition. By bringing light to East Germany’s murky history, it has brought up the uncomfortable truth that people were giving up their friends and loved ones to the Secret Police only twenty years ago. By telling this one tale, many people will now feel free to tell their own.
Monday, 11 June 2007
Review - Spider-Man 3
There are few things more upsetting than a Spider-Man film; all that longing and loss, eyes constantly on the verge of tears. Peter Parker’s life is troubled, something that has always been central to his appeal since Stan Lee used his great power to create him in 1962. The third part of Sam Raimi’s take on the Webslinger keeps up the same soap opera-ish element as the previous episodes, with perhaps less emphasis on action and villainy. If, like me, you love the heart of the first two films, then this will be welcome news. If you want to see a faithful rendition of the Venom saga, then you will be sorely disappointed. The screenplay has unfortunately bitten off more than it can chew in a (still quite long) two hours and twenty minutes.
The film opens with everything surprisingly rosy for Peter (the so-innocent-it-hurts Tobey McGuire). He’s going out with MJ (Kirsten Dunst), who’s just landed her first lead role on Broadway, he’s the star of his science classes, and J. Jonah Jameson at the Bugle still buys his pictures of Spidey. Of course, it can’t last. The man arrested for the murder of his Uncle Ben, Flint Marco (Thomas Hayden Church), escapes from prison and becomes The Sandman after wandering into a nuclear accelerator. This means he can turn into sand at will, which doesn’t just mean he gets inside your swimming costume, so you keep finding bits of him for weeks afterwards; he has super-strength and can’t get hurt, which is much more of a menace.
Also, Spider-Man’s iconic red and blue costume has turned to a rather cool black colour due to an alien symbiote. This enhances Peter’s superpowers, but also his smug self-satisfaction about being a universally-loved (well, apart from a certain tabloid editor) and selfless all-round good egg. The change in personality alienates all of his friends and loved ones, but is very funny to watch (McGuire cannot really pull off ‘cool’, which is lucky because neither can Peter Parker). I will gloss over the ins and outs of what the symbiote means and how Venom comes about, because the film-makers do. You’d think two villains and an internal battle would be enough, but there is the return of the Green Goblin to contend with as well. This time, Peter’s very angry best friend Harry Osborn (James Franco) is under the mask, complicating matters even further.
The myriad of different plots are not hard to keep track of or anything, but do produce a rather fractured film. There was more than enough material in here to make two very good stories; the whole symbiote thing deserves a film on its own, and tying up the lose ends of Peter’s problems with Harry (my favourite scenes in this episode) could have been extended. They have also wasted the character of Gwen Stacy by putting her in here; any comic fan will know that she was Peter’s first love interest, before Mary-Jane had ever called him Tiger.
Having pointed out its flaws, I still can’t help but love this film. McGuire is excellent and adorable as always, and the script is very funny. This part of the trilogy gives the best cameos so far of Bruce Campbell and Stan Lee, the real highlights for us geeks, even if it doesn’t do justice to any of the villains involved. The consistency of tone across the series is remarkable, and testimony to Sam Raimi’s vision and love for the subject. So, not a perfect film, but one that is very enjoyable and moving for a comic geek like me.
The film opens with everything surprisingly rosy for Peter (the so-innocent-it-hurts Tobey McGuire). He’s going out with MJ (Kirsten Dunst), who’s just landed her first lead role on Broadway, he’s the star of his science classes, and J. Jonah Jameson at the Bugle still buys his pictures of Spidey. Of course, it can’t last. The man arrested for the murder of his Uncle Ben, Flint Marco (Thomas Hayden Church), escapes from prison and becomes The Sandman after wandering into a nuclear accelerator. This means he can turn into sand at will, which doesn’t just mean he gets inside your swimming costume, so you keep finding bits of him for weeks afterwards; he has super-strength and can’t get hurt, which is much more of a menace.
Also, Spider-Man’s iconic red and blue costume has turned to a rather cool black colour due to an alien symbiote. This enhances Peter’s superpowers, but also his smug self-satisfaction about being a universally-loved (well, apart from a certain tabloid editor) and selfless all-round good egg. The change in personality alienates all of his friends and loved ones, but is very funny to watch (McGuire cannot really pull off ‘cool’, which is lucky because neither can Peter Parker). I will gloss over the ins and outs of what the symbiote means and how Venom comes about, because the film-makers do. You’d think two villains and an internal battle would be enough, but there is the return of the Green Goblin to contend with as well. This time, Peter’s very angry best friend Harry Osborn (James Franco) is under the mask, complicating matters even further.
The myriad of different plots are not hard to keep track of or anything, but do produce a rather fractured film. There was more than enough material in here to make two very good stories; the whole symbiote thing deserves a film on its own, and tying up the lose ends of Peter’s problems with Harry (my favourite scenes in this episode) could have been extended. They have also wasted the character of Gwen Stacy by putting her in here; any comic fan will know that she was Peter’s first love interest, before Mary-Jane had ever called him Tiger.
Having pointed out its flaws, I still can’t help but love this film. McGuire is excellent and adorable as always, and the script is very funny. This part of the trilogy gives the best cameos so far of Bruce Campbell and Stan Lee, the real highlights for us geeks, even if it doesn’t do justice to any of the villains involved. The consistency of tone across the series is remarkable, and testimony to Sam Raimi’s vision and love for the subject. So, not a perfect film, but one that is very enjoyable and moving for a comic geek like me.
Monday, 4 June 2007
Review - Blades of Glory
Figure skating is my favourite spectator sport. Every four years I am fixed in front of the Winter Olympics to see the triple-axel-double-salchow combinations and camel spins; during the Summer Olympics I have to watch gymnastics, a very distant second in my books for two reasons:
1. The big-chested, growth-stunted little girls are no match for the fluid grace of the skaters, and
2. The gymnasts’ costumes have few sequins.
The themed, sparkly creations that the skaters wear make for interesting viewing, but even I have to admit they are also ripe for some mickey-taking. Will Ferrell and Jon Heder duly oblige in Blades of Glory, souping up the camp glitz and bitchiness of the ‘sport’ to outstanding levels.
Heder plays Chazz Michael Michaels, the sex bomb of the figure skating world. Self-taught on the mean streets of the inner city, he is the arch-rival of Heder’s Jimmy MacElroy, the angelic and technically-perfect adopted son of a millionaire. After their intense rivalry causes both to be banned from Male Figure Skating for life, they fall on hard times. Realising that they can still compete in Pair Skating, they team up and enter the World Championships with, as they say, hilarious consequences.
This is a clever idea well-executed by directors Josh Gordon and Will Speck. The casting is great, with Ferrell making the most of his ‘magnetic sexuality’, and Heder the most of his Mormon innocence. The wonderful Will Arnett (Gob from Arrested Development) and his real life wife Amy Poehler (the perfect size for a throwing girl in pair skating) are hilarious as the Van Waldenbergs, the brother and sister nemeses of Michaels and MacElroy. The costumes are the real stars, though; tight in all the wrong places, exquisitely detailed and not far from the truth, they steal every scene.
Whilst the script has a lot of very funny ideas and many laugh out loud moments (as well as lots of great skating in-jokes), some flat scenes and thinness of plot mean that this will not become a comedy classic. Blades of Glory is a lot of fun whilst you’re watching it, but, like most of Will Ferrell’s comedies, not that much sticks in the memory. Still, 93 minutes of enjoyable silliness is not to be sneezed at, even if it is making fun of my beloved ice skating.
1. The big-chested, growth-stunted little girls are no match for the fluid grace of the skaters, and
2. The gymnasts’ costumes have few sequins.
The themed, sparkly creations that the skaters wear make for interesting viewing, but even I have to admit they are also ripe for some mickey-taking. Will Ferrell and Jon Heder duly oblige in Blades of Glory, souping up the camp glitz and bitchiness of the ‘sport’ to outstanding levels.
Heder plays Chazz Michael Michaels, the sex bomb of the figure skating world. Self-taught on the mean streets of the inner city, he is the arch-rival of Heder’s Jimmy MacElroy, the angelic and technically-perfect adopted son of a millionaire. After their intense rivalry causes both to be banned from Male Figure Skating for life, they fall on hard times. Realising that they can still compete in Pair Skating, they team up and enter the World Championships with, as they say, hilarious consequences.
This is a clever idea well-executed by directors Josh Gordon and Will Speck. The casting is great, with Ferrell making the most of his ‘magnetic sexuality’, and Heder the most of his Mormon innocence. The wonderful Will Arnett (Gob from Arrested Development) and his real life wife Amy Poehler (the perfect size for a throwing girl in pair skating) are hilarious as the Van Waldenbergs, the brother and sister nemeses of Michaels and MacElroy. The costumes are the real stars, though; tight in all the wrong places, exquisitely detailed and not far from the truth, they steal every scene.
Whilst the script has a lot of very funny ideas and many laugh out loud moments (as well as lots of great skating in-jokes), some flat scenes and thinness of plot mean that this will not become a comedy classic. Blades of Glory is a lot of fun whilst you’re watching it, but, like most of Will Ferrell’s comedies, not that much sticks in the memory. Still, 93 minutes of enjoyable silliness is not to be sneezed at, even if it is making fun of my beloved ice skating.
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