The Red Capes are Coming?

The internet is alive at the moment with talk of the first full BATMAN V SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE trailer that made its debut in the legendary Hall H of Comic Con yesterday.

It’s got all the fireworks, striking heroic poses and flying fisticuffs you’d expect from such a title, plus our first proper looks at Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman (in armour and wielding sword and shield), Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor (appropriately cocky and amused by the chaos erupting around him), Jeremy Irons’ Alfred (dispensing wisdom) and Holly Hunter being an awfully good sport about being an exposition machine.

We get a general idea of the direction the plot will be going. Following that really boring fight between Superman and Zod at the end of MAN OF STEEL, Kal-el (Henry Cavill) is worshiped as a god by some (a skull-faced cult, because of course), and seen as a menace to the planet by the rest, which brings him into violent conflict with Batman (Ben Affleck).

I’d say it’s a slick, pretty solidly put together piece of marketing. It shows you enough,  but doesn’t go overboard and leave you with nothing to experience for the first time when it hits the big screen. Still no appearances by Aquaman and the rest of the Justice League, but there’s time yet. It was a surprise to see Michael Shannon’s Zod make an appearance on a slab, and it makes me think someone (likely Luthor) might be conducting experiments on it to find the Last Son of Krypton’s weakness, which could be why we see Lex gazing at a lump of Kryptonite behind glass later in the trailer. Speaking of Lex, this brief look at Eisenberg with strawberry blonde locks (they’ll be going at some point) strutting around and seemingly just enjoying the show, is very promising.

What is less clear at this stage is what his final repeated proclamation: “The red capes are coming” actually means. If it was just “the capes are coming” then it could refer to all these superheroes making a splash on Planet Earth, but “red capes” seems more specifically to refer to Superman. We do see some paramilitary types overwhelming Batman in the trailer, and they look to have Superman’s “Not an S” crest emblazoned on their arms, so could it be possible that Luthor is manufacturing an army to support Superman (or at least to give that impression). We also see Supes looking an awful lot like he’s bowing to Luthor, so has Lex got some leverage over his alien nemesis? There’s certainly a lot to think on.

It looks like they’re going for grand, operatic super-serious superheroics again. The scale of the thing, and Zack Snyder sticking to the same muted colour palette as he used for Man of Steel pretty much confirms that this will be the way DC/Warner Bros will be taking their comic book adaptations for the foreseeable future. Fine, but that could get monotonous fast. At least we’ll have SUICIDE SQUAD as a bit of (hopefully) light relief post-Bats vs Supes, and who knows, maybe one of the dueling icons might crack a smile at some point? Or maybe that’s what Lex is for. SSP

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Review: Terminator Genisys (2015)

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Arnie is back as the Terminator with a resounding clunk. While TERMINATOR GENISYS isn’t quite the mirthless Hunter-Killer crash TERMINATOR SALVATION was, it hasn’t earned the right to be mentioned in the same breath as any of the first three films either, especially James Cameron’s originals. Speaking of Cameron, he endorsed this one over TERMINATOR 3 as the official third instalment of the franchise. Oh dear.

As the future war between machines and mankind draws to a close, Skynet’s secret weapon, a time machine, allows them to send an assassin back in time to end humanity’s resistance efforts before they begin. The resistance leader John Connor (Jason Clarke) sends his trusted lieutenant Kyle Reece (Jai Courtney) in hot pursuit to protect his mother Sarah Connor (Emilia Clarke) only to find she already has a guardian (Arnold Schwarzenegger).

The first half hour or so of Genisys is just fine. It’s a sort-of Terminator franchise greatest hits really, featuring a battle in the future, time travel back to 1984, new vs old Arnie and the (re-cast) T-1000. After that the film completely derails itself.

I get that there had to be callbacks – that’s partly what the fans are paying for. The recreation of Arnie’s nude arrival and confrontation with the biker gang from THE TERMINATOR works, as does the reprise of John Williams’ iconic musical cue for the reveal of aged Arnie ready to do battle with himself from 30 years ago. Oh by the way, you know that fight that has been hyped to death in every single trailer? It amounts to a pretty uninspiring 2 minutes of punching and conveniently placed shadows.

While the initial musical reprise works, I’ve no idea why director Alan Taylor, composer Lorne Balfe, and especially executive music producer Hans Zimmer thought it would be a good idea to use it again and again at the most inappropriate moments (the worst being when Arnie is literally just sitting down in the back of a truck). It’s just completely unnecessary, like bringing a claymore to a knife fight.

The great thing about the Terminator movies (Salvation aside) is that despite the twisty time travel mechanics they’ve always worked really well as linear chase movies. It always comes down to a simple game of cat-and-mouse between the evil robot of the day and [insert name] Connor and their designated protector. The biggest problem with Genisys (aside from the title) is that it has absolutely no momentum. There are too many story tangents that don’t go anywhere and rarely any clearly defined reasons for why characters make the decisions they do.

The returning characters, so well-defined in previous instalments here are vapid and unlikeable, mere shells of their previous portrayers. Emilia Clarke’s performance is fine, but she talks like a women from 2015 despite Sarah being from 1984 – particularly annoying given the amount of time and effort the crew have put into recreating the streets from the first film, even using the same colour palette and lighting – and somewhere along the way Sarah Connor has lost her edge too. Clarke is sadly no Linda Hamilton. Jai Courtney is certainly no Michael Biehn. He isn’t even an Anton Yelchin. Jason Clarke is clearly having a lot more fun playing his role than we are in watching him, but at least our laughing at Schwarzenegger is intentional – his (sometimes underrated) comic timing just about salvages several scenes.

The first three Terminators all had one jaw-dropping, usually practically achieved, action set piece. The Terminator had that spectacular petrol tanker explosion; T2 had the superlative LA flood channel chase; Terminator 3 had the sublimely destructive crane pursuit through the city. Here there’s really nothing of note. I’m writing this about 48 hours since seeing Genisys and I’m already struggling to recall much of anything. I think there was a helicopter chase in there somewhere, but I think the editing was a bit too quick to really appreciate it. If nothing else, you’d expect a big tentpole action movie like this to be able to deliver on the action. But I guess in the same year as MAD MAX: FURY ROAD, every other action film will ultimately come up short.

It was a big mistake for the marketing team to ruin the only real twist in the tale almost out of the gate. I’m not going to spoil it here, but good luck avoiding it because they decided to put it on the poster! The whole enterprise just smacks of attempting too much too soon, Paramount executives’ desperate attempt to churn a few more of these out before Cameron gets his Intellectual Property back in 2019. A few smiles raised by Arnie back in his most famous role and the machines looking shinier than they ever have before can’t make up for such lacklustre efforts everywhere else. SSP

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Review: Jupiter Ascending (2015)

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One thing’s for sure – Andy and Lana Wachowski will never make a dull film. Even their misfires – and JUPITER ASCENDING is certainly one of those – are fascinating.

Jupiter Jones (Mila Kunis), the daughter of a Russian immigrant, appears completely unremarkable save for her being the product of her parents’ hugely romantic chance meeting. Every day is the same for her, working as a cleaner with her mum and aunt in Chicago, so naturally Jupiter dreams of something more, and fixes her eyes on the stars. Meanwhile, far out in space an ancient and tyrannical dynasty have their eyes fixed on Jupiter, and on Earth…

I won’t deny I had a massive grin on my face at times. Take the dazzlingly creative chase where two people are trying to escape from a fleet of spaceships with one pair of hover boots, or the amusing sci-fi civil service scene riffing on Douglas Adams and Terry Gilliam (and actually featuring the one of those who isn’t dead yet). It’s aesthetically stunning throughout really, showcasing first-class makeup and CGI, and aside from a monotonous final act the action rarely disappoints. It’s also nice to see the Wachowskis’ commitment to wirework and advanced rigs when staging complex action still remains.

The ideas – big science fiction ones – are good too, it’s just a shame they’re not given the screentime to bear fruit. Nurturing planets until they are at just the right stage to harvest their previous lifeforce – that’s a great idea. Designer genetics for anyone vain enough or seeking to adopt a useful animal trait – that’s a great idea. An intergalactic family feud manifesting as a war over resources, and more importantly for their vanity – that’s a great idea. But for a film do preoccupied with its visuals, Jupiter prefers to tell, rather than show more often than not, and reduces too many of its characters to exposition-o-matics.

There’s no avoiding the fact that our lead protagonist Jupiter, as likeable and grounded as she is made to begin with, does a lot of falling through space, being knocked out, and (rather creepily) being redressed while unconscious, usually by men. She even comments on the latter point in dialogue, and when a character seems to realise they are being exploited for the sake of the plot they are part of, you know you’re in trouble. Her canine super-soldier escort Caine (name taken straight out of the sci-fi/fantasy handbook) is cool in the action scenes, but Channing Tatum too mumbly and not enough is made of his wolf-like traits. Most of the rest of the cast might as well have not bothered, especially Sean Bean, who treads water and only occasionally seems to remember he has bee vision. Eddie Redmayne is a lot of fun as the big baddie, and does his very best Ralph Fiennes-as-Voldermort camply strained rasp, but he disappears for half the movie, leaving us with boring substitute antagonists.

The script is mostly diabolical, and is very talky without saying anything. It does feature one of the most awful, yet genius lines of dialogue in recent years: “Bees have been genetically engineered to sense royalty”. That is just fabulous. You could put that on a T-shirt. Mythology-wise, you feel very much like you’re receiving the cliff notes, Jupiter Ascending Abridged if you will. It’s like you’re only half-hearing a really interesting conversation at a busy party. This is particularly disappointing when you remember how much time and effort the Wachowskis put into establishing the complex workings of the worlds of THE MATRIX, CLOUD ATLAS, hell, even SPEED RACER. You usually have a general idea of what is going on in the plot thanks to the siblings’ sheer dynamism, but you never exactly feel involved in this story or its characters’ exploits.

The Wachowskis really badly want this to be DUNE meets CINDERELLA, but it ends up being a pale imitation of both with a few high points and plenty of visual flare. Not a complete waste of your time then, rather a beautiful, frustrating, curiosity. SSP

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Review: Mortdecai (2015)

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MORTDECAI may well be not only the worst film Johnny Depp has ever starred in, but also the most painful performance of his career as well.

A farce set in the art world’s underbelly in an ambiguous decade, we follow Charlie Mortdecai (Johnny Depp), an art dealer in serious tax debt who reluctantly accepts a mission from MI5. That mission is to track a stolen painting containing a secret that is sought after by some rather unsavoury individuals, all in exchange for Her Majesty’s reprieve.

The story? Well, apart from the quite frankly desperately cobbled together synopsis above, there really isn’t one. Instead we are given a series of seemingly unrelated sketches, each boasting gags less funny than the last. Farces are meant to be entertaining confusing, not annoyingly incomprehensible. Characters in these kinds of stories are meant to be endearingly lost, not bilious morons without merit.

Detestable from the very start, Charlie Mordecai opens the film with an odious ode to his new facial hair. I know it’s an intentionally exaggerated performance, but Depp chose that wormy smile, that slurring upper class sub-FAST SHOW diction, and it all starts to grate even before the movie’s two-minute mark. Mortdecai is impossible to like – though good characters almost never have to be likeable – but he’s completely one-note as well. The character’s inconsistency gets to me as well. Is it possible to bumble and stumble through life to such an extent and have an encyclopaedic knowledge of art and social history? If that’s a comment on the English upper classes, then it’s not a very good one. Either David Koepp is picking and choosing when to make Mortdecai an idiot or he doesn’t realise how bad his screenplay is. Funny voices and silly behaviour alone do not make for a good comedy film. There have to be actual jokes, or at the bare minimum, wit. Inspector Clouseau was always an idiot, but he was a lucky idiot and he saved the day through sheer fluke. Mortdecai is a selective idiot that exposes glaring weakness in the film’s screenplay.

Gwyneth Paltrow is wasted as Mortdecai’s wife Johanna, which is a real shame as as the brains of the relationship she could have been a really interesting character. Paul Bettany, on the other hand, appears to be part of another much better comedy film as Mortdecai’s hired muscle/valet Jock. Bettany is so endearingly dedicated to his master, is such an earnest hard-man throughout that you almost forgive him for not saying no to the uttering dialogue comparing women to cars. Ewan McGregor is fine as an MI5 agent. Depp must have been thrilled to get his (somewhat baffling) acting hero Paul Whitehouse to cameo as what appears to be a reprisal one of his sketch show characters.

There’s some really ugly scene transitions that look like the map scenes from INDIANA JONES mocked up in a Computer Aided Design programme from the late 90s. Making these an essential part of the globetrotting was a mistake. The film’s editing in general is a little haphazard in all honesty.

Mortdecai saying that the moustache he has recently committed to will “eventually come to fruition”, the “Oo golly I’ve read about this!” response to being drugged in a toilet, and a moment of pure slapstick while out on a hunt, all raised a slight smile. Acting surprised at the extent of his debt by quipping “I didn’t realise I was so deep in Her Majesty’s hole”, didn’t.

Using vomit in an action sequence without going over-the-top requires a lightness of touch. Koepp doesn’t manage it in Mortdecai, and you just think “Did you really have to?”. The same goes for well over half of the crude gags in the film – I’m not saying you can’t have toilet humour, but these jokes have to be funny enough to justify their being there. At the film’s 20-minute mark, where we’ve just had two successive gagging at the moustache gags (there was more to come on that score), I was seriously conducting hurling the laptop I was watching the film on at a sturdy wall. There’s just so little on offer to make the pain the viewer is being put through worth it.

There’s one good line in the entire film, when Mortdecai insults a thug laying into him with: “Your mother and father only met once, and money changed hands…Probably less than a twenty!”. Another line that McGregor comes out with early on succinctly sums up the film: “Are you quite finished buggering around?”. Koepp has been a good writer in the past, and has shown particular skill at adapted screenplays, but should probably take a break from directing. Depp has been a good actor, but his career has been on the ropes for a while and he needs roles that amount to more than pulling faces to his stoney-faced audience. SSP

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Review: Whiplash (2014)

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Who needs bells-and-whistles action scenes when you can make the simple sight of someone drumming for another’s approval this intense? I don’t particularly feel that any of the final list of potential Best Picture Oscar winners really deserved to be named the best of 2014 (the snubbing of NIGHTCRAWLER and MR. TURNER particularly rankles) but WHIPLASH probably comes closest out of The Academy’s selection.

Andrew (Miles Teller) has a dream of being the next jazz drumming great, the next Buddy Rich. He’s well on his way to being a musical prodigy, attending a well-regarded music college and performing in some of the best bands in the country. But someone wants to crush Andrew’s dream, and that man is the psychotic and malicious bandleader Terence Fletcher (JK Simmons). Egos collide and the battle to achieve perfection begins, but who will triumph in this battle of wills, Andrew or Fletcher?

Yes, Simmons deserves every one of his plaudits, making Fletcher an unknowable sneering hurricane. He’s arguably the most formidable on-screen mentor/abuser since FULL METAL JACKET, and much like that movie’s Drill Sergent Hartman, you want to despise him but can’t quite bring yourself to, mostly because of the way he grinds people down is so darned funny-uncomfortable.  His profane, homophobic outbursts are awful, but hilarious. Simmons’ terrifying presence and what he does to Andrew and others over the course of the film would be enough to make him memorable, but I also loved the subtle, almost playfully supernatural trappings of him as a character. Fletcher is a ghoul, a spectre with the uncanny ability to appear at any moment to completely and utterly destroy you. No other man alive could make a criticism like “not quite my tempo” drip, nay gush, with such menace.

You can’t take anything away from Miles Teller, either. The film hinges on Fletcher having someone’s misery to feed off, like a smart-casual Dementor, and Teller brings to sweaty, blistering and bloody life Andrew’s near-constant suffering. Teller has been playing drums since he was a child, and does around half of Andrew’s on-screen performing, a real achievement in addition to evoking all the complexities and misery of his character.

As well as the nerve-shredding band practice and performance sequences that act as the film’s set pieces, Whiplash gives us the most uncomfortable breakup scene since THE SOCIAL NETWORK. We’re willing Andrew not to go through with it, to not act like such a jerk to the lovely Nicole (Melissa Benoist) but we simultaneously know everything he’s telling her is true, that there is no room for her on his life as long as he plays.

It’s a stroke of genius to have Andrew’s drive morph from passion for his art to utter detest of his mentor. It’s a really good arc that inexorably binds the fate of our protagonist to that of our antagonist and comments on the fragility of creative drive and the duel nature of love and hate. At first we think Fletcher is testing Andrew down to build him back up again, the classic “for your own good” prickly mentor tack, but we soon realise Fletcher is simply abusing Andrew because he enjoys doing it. Equally, when Andrew starts to fight back, determined to beat Fletcher at his own game and prove he is that good, it’s for purely selfish reasons, to humiliate Fletcher rather than to achieve musical transcendence.

The one scene that I didn’t buy, Andrew’s car crash and subsequent bloodstained stagger to perform, could conceivably have been inspired by the experiences of Teller and his director, Damien Chazelle, both of whom have been involved in such trauma in recent years. Chazelle even returned to work the day after his crash, much in the same way Andrew still somehow makes it to perform. Why not use your own experiences to add a bit of (admittedly unnecessary) dramatic clout to your movie?

Dramatic flourish aside, Whiplash is a hypnotic, exhausting experience boasting two of the best performances of the year. It’s too carefully rehearsed and meticulously put together to be considered truly “jazzy”, but as a chronicle of two human beings using music as a tool to tear each other apart, it’s a dark delight. SSP

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40 Years On: Jaws (1975)

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On 20 June 1975, something came from the water to change the landscape of summer movie releases forever. 40 years on, and, rubber shark aside, JAWS is still an astounding piece of filmmaking, a masterpiece that bridges classic Hollywood and the modern blockbuster. It’s easily among Steven Spielberg’s most accessible, enjoyable and enduring works, which says something considering the length of his career and the variety of movies he has directed.

For those just hearing about these new-fangled things called movies, Jaws tells the story of a really big shark terrorising a small coastal community at the height of the holiday season. After a series of grisly deaths and the general atmosphere of panic rising, a cop, a marine biologist and a salty seadog set sail to find the shark culprit and destroy it.

Iconic scenes, characters, dialogue and especially John Williams’ spine-tingling score aside, what Jaws really is is a masterclass in pacing. Rarely has a film been built so perfectly around a classic three act structure, acts that flow beautifully, feeding back and forth to further inform plot and character. The first act is a delicious character-driven identify-the-monster mystery. The second act sees things really get out of control and characters put through the wringer. The final act sees the hunter become the hunted in a high-seas adventure, where our characters are forced to work together to outsmart and defeat their foe. You may have noticed the importance of character throughout the story, and we are giving a trio of lasting, complex and fascinatingly different protagonists in Brody, Hooper and Quint, performed impeccably by Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss and Robert Shaw.

Our heroes are a flawed bunch. Chief Brody is a nice guy driven to do the right thing, but he also has a certain disdain for the community under his protection; Matt Hooper knows his stuff and has youthful charm, but is also reckless and can be patronising to those less-educated; Captain Quint has been doing what he’s doing for a long time and is among the best at it, but he has demons to deal with and an intense dislike of those of a different class and/or background. These character flaws and abrasions come up time and time again as the trio prepare for their quest and ultimately have to work together when they set sail, but it all truly comes to a head in the infamous SS Indianapolis monologue delivered by Quint. Their differences are put aside as Brody, Hooper and Quint get sloshed, and a new respect and understanding comes about from Quint finally opening up about exactly why he hates and fears sharks so much.

It’s really quite incredible that Steven Spielberg still has such affection for this, his most traumatic work that had another potential disaster waiting for him round every corner. The on-set stories are legendary, from the near-constant loudspeaker announcement that “The shark is not working!” to Robert Shaw’s alcoholism and detest (duly reciprocated) for Richard Dreyfus, to the project going stupidly over-time and over-budget, resulting in Spielberg nearly being fired before he was allowed to complete the movie. It’s a testament to Spielberg’s tenacity and creativity that he managed to turn many of the film’s apparent weaknesses into strengths. The animatronic shark didn’t work, so we rarely glimpse it and our imaginations is left to do most of the hard work. Shaw hated Dreyfus, so there’s a palpable tension in Quint and Hooper’s relationship, with Brody (and Scheider) forced to play struggling peacekeeper.

Jaws is a film that lasts, a film just as thrilling and engrossing on the fiftieth watch as the first. There are few films I can quote verbatim, but Jaws is one I still love to challenge my dad to a quote-off, to see who will draw a blank first. The shark was always a bit rubbish, but the rest of the overall package is still so satisfying to experience time and time again. The film is still held in high regard for good reason, and is such a key influence to contemporary filmmakers today, from Bryan Singer’s production company Bad Hat Harry to Spielberg referencing it himself in TINTIN. Here’s to another 40 years of cinematic dominance, and in that time surely we’re gonna need a bigger movie. SSP

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Review: Pride (2014)

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PRIDE is good-ish. They’re going for feelgood, and they certainly succeed in delivering that, but if you’re looking for much more then you might leave a little disappointed.

Following a chance encounter between student Joe (George MacKay) and a passionate group of gay rights activists lead by Mark (Ben Schnetzer), the group decide to stand with the plighted striking miners of a small village in Wales. While the Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners campaign and charity drive is gratefully received by some residents of Onllwyn, a key element protest support from such a source, and it is not long before unions across the UK hear of this bizarre alliance and the national press spin the story to their own ends, which leads to a landmark moment in the summer of 1984.

The film is gentle and funny and well-performed across the board. Bill Nighy hasn’t been this good in years, with an unusually understated and moving turn. We’re just so used to him hamming or adding whatever gravitas he can to stupid chunks of exposition in genre fare that it’s easy to forget he really can act. Nigh makes community leader Cliff shy and reserved but also passionate spokesman for his village, a character description fascinating in its contradictions. Also good are Jessica Gunning, Paddy Considine and Joseph Gilgun as key Onllwyn residents and one of the lower-key gay rights campaigners respectively. Oh, and Dominic West gets a fabulous dance scene. The curiously un-Welsh main cast do a fine job of putting on the accents and the inhabitants of the wider Welsh mining village sportingly engage in some light self-deprecation and stereotyping: “We don’t mind the gays and the lesbians, but don’t you dare be bringing people from North Wales down here!”.

My main problem with Pride was the almost complete lack of threat. Your comedy-drama tends to weigh a bit heavier on the former side without much jeopardy, and there is next to none of it on show here. I understand you don’t always have to actually witness atrocities, that some things imagined can have a far greater impact than what you see. This doesn’t change the fact that the film would have been more resounding had at least one darker sequence punctuated the relentless cheer and optimism. There’s a lot of talk about what indignities homosexuals and those working down the pits have endured at the hands of the government, but little evidence for it. We all know how badly the Miners’ Strikes affected the United Kingdom during the 1980s. We all know how dangerous it could still be to be a homosexual thirty years ago. But we don’t really get a feel for either. When Joe comes out to his parents, the camera pans away before we see the result, depriving us of a key moment of drama. We cut just before Gethin (Andrew Scott) is attacked in the street because he is gay.

At other points the film seems unnecessarily cut down, like we’re missing some pretty major plot and character points, despite running at just shy of two hours. Shortly after he has been cast out (offscreen) by his family for his sexuality and his involvement in the pro-miners campaign, we see Joe resolutely stride back into his family’s house after being ostracised to insult his sister and her fiancé. These are two characters we are apparently meant to dislike and take pleasure from Joe’s barbed insults despite the fact that we are meeting them for the very first time in this scene. That’s either bad writing or heavy-handed editing, and neither does a film any favours.

For a political film, Pride doesn’t seem all that political, either. The 1980s was the decade of angry UK politics, but you don’t get much a sense of that here. BILLY ELLIOT, which could be considered a companion piece, for all its romanticism, at least actually showed you the miners rioting and the consequences of the walkouts and clashes with police. This film, for all its good intentions, high-quality cast and uplifting tone lacks volatility and a powerful voice. SSP

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Review: Jurassic World (2015)

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I love JURASSIC PARK. It will always hold a very special place in my heart. It was the first film I saw on the big screen, and I saw it at the age that I, like so many other children, was obsessed by dinosaurs. It was a joy to see it twice more at the cinema when it was re-released in digital print in 2011 and the less impressive 3D version reared its head in 2013. I enjoyed elements of JURASSIC WORLD, but by no means all of it. It functions as a big summer movie and there are moments of brilliance, but somewhere along the way the magic has dissipated.

Third time lucky, and Jurassic Park has successfully opened. The arrival of brothers Gray and Zach (Ty Simpkins and Nick Robinson) at Jurassic World coincides with the theme park’s first major incident. The InGen scientists have been gene-splicing to maintain the public’s appetite for coming to see dinosaurs, and have created a monster, dubbed the “Indominus Rex”. When the Indominus breaks free to go on a rampage, and with her nephews lost somewhere in the chaos, park executive Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) and Navy-trained Velociraptor-whisperer Owen (Chris Pratt) set out to find the boys and get out alive.

The new dinosaur is great. The Indominus Rex is well-designed and well-executed, and thematically speaking, as a confused and aggressive product of genetic engineering, it works. There’s a twist linked to its genetic makeup that can be seen a mile off, but again, from a story point of view, it works. All its scenes are worth the price of admission, particularly the final clash to restore balance to an upset ecosystem. When the Indominus isn’t on screen, however, things are decidedly less engaging. We see a dino petting zoo, and that’s just undignified treatment of these remarkable creatures, it somewhat removes any majesty or wonder dinosaurs might inspire when we see a child riding around on a little Triceratops.

Bryce Dallas Howard is really good as Claire, who really functions as more of a hero than Chris Pratt’s action man Owen. At least she gets some development. Claire is a career woman through-and-through, and has become emotionally detached to everyone close to her as a result. Howard makes her tough but human, and excels at bringing out little humourous touches to give the character a further dimension, from rehearsing the names of her stockholders using rather insulting word association on her way to a meeting, to scrambling aimlessly for the ages of her nephews, to her slight adaptation of her business suit to make it suitable for a jungle trek.

Chris Pratt sadly coasts, just about selling the ridiculous premise of training Velociraptors, but bringing little charm to a pretty unlikeable character who just happens to have the right skills for what is required.  Our main human villain is a lump working for a private outfit played by Vincent D’Onofrio, who clearly had his mind elsewhere (probably on DAREDEVIL). The only returning presence from Spielberg’s films is Dr Wu (BD Wong) who becomes exactly what we expect that particular character archetype to, but otherwise doesn’t do a lot. The kid characters aren’t annoying as such, but they’re simplistically reduced to a single character trait each – Gray remembers facts, Zach is a horny teenager.

It’s dumfoundingly rare now to see a major summer blockbuster clock in around the 2 hour mark. Jurassic World also stands out by not having its final act be entirely composed of action. The set pieces are big, but not oppressively so, and are well dispersed throughout the movie. The overall plot has a disjointed beginning, with setup scenes only feeling roughly stitched together, and things don’t really gain much traction until the Indominus starts causing trouble.

Appropriately Michael Giacchino, who has been the new John Williams for several years now, samples Williams’ original Jurassic Park score for key scenes. The only problem is he chooses to use the wrong elements of Williams’ score for these moments. The intimate end credits music for the first big reveal of Jurassic World? The epic “There it is!” music for an unremarkable scene traveling from one part of the island to another? Try again.

As the late great Robert Muldoon (the late great Bob Peck) said: “How many times? We need locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors!” Jurassic Park design teams have shown themselves to be extraordinarily thick, and here in the fully-functioning Jurassic World, we have “gyrospheres” that can seemingly roam anywhere the occupants like (shatter-proof or not, they’re just asking to be stepped on by an Apatosaurus!). There was a reason the jeeps in Jurassic Park were on rails, door locks or not. Something else stupid I noticed – why is InGen still called InGen? After two major incidents directly caused by the company and a related screw-up, surely you’d re-brand?

As a side note, I’m sure no offense was meant, but for anyone living in the UK the writers have chosen a very unfortunate abbreviation for Pachycephalosaurus in one throwaway scene.

In many ways I respect director Colin Trevorrow and his writing team for not resorting to too many nods to the original films (there are some) and actually moving the story forward. But if you’re not going to overtly reference what’s come before and get nostalgia points, you have to come up with something better, and sadly they don’t. There’s some nice action beats and a couple of decent gags (notably one that subverts one particularly tired trope), but Howard aside the performances aren’t up to scratch and most of it isn’t that memorable. It’s good to see unique talent like Colin Trevorrow getting such plumb gigs, but hopefully his next project hits harder and the next Jurassic film is more lasting. SSP

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“The hour grows late…” (RIP Sir Christopher Lee)

Christopher-Lee

Well today has been a sad one for film fans. Mere hours after news broke that the portrayer of Fagin Ron Moody had died at the age of 91, it was announced that Christopher Lee had also passed away at the weekend. The word “legend” is attached to many people these days, but Lee was one of the few fully deserving of that description. A man who led a life before show businesses almost as interesting as the film career that followed (he was basically James Bond), Lee was a giant of the industry and a master of his art.

DRACULA, THE WICKER MAN, THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, LORD OF THE RINGS, STAR WARS, and so on. Lee was a film icon who brought to life (or afterlife) some of the most memorable characters – notably villains – in the history of film. The first half of his monumental career boasted an iconic Count, a low-key creepy Lord Summerisle and an entertainingly warped mirror image of James Bond in Scaramanga. In his later years he became equally beloved and detested by a new generation as Saruman and Count Dooku in The Lord of the Rings and Star Wars Episodes II and III respectively, and in both franchises he have weight to reams of complex fantasy exposition and turned booming out silly names with a straight face into an art form. His career spanned such a long time and he was such a prolific performer that everyone, no matter their age, will remember him for at least one role.

Much like his contemporary Vincent Price his career could have been a non-starter because of his imposing height, but again like his American counterpart Lee turned his physical attributes to his distinct advantage and was always a memorable presence onscreen even in smaller roles in the likes of GREMLINS 2 and most of Tim Burton’s films over the last decade.

For many, he is the once and future Dracula, or else the monstrous foil to real-life best friend Peter Cushing’s well-spoken heroes in a number of other Hammer productions. For me, because I’m in my mid-twenties, Lee will always be Saruman. He may have really wanted to play Gandalf (he would have been far too harsh) but he was perfect casting as the fallen white wizard, and Peter Jackson surely found it a great help to have a Tolkien expert (he read LOTR annually) on set to check out any doubts on Middle-Earth lore or Elvish pronunciation. One of the most touching, amusing moments from Jackson’s mountain of behind-the-scenes footage is the crew being equally fascinated and frustrated by Lee telling yet another remarkable but long-winded anecdote as they try to reset a scene in pickups for THE HOBBIT.

It’s a tired phrase, but you can’t say the man didn’t have a good innings. To lead such an interesting and varied life, and to carry on working right until your time to shuffle off this mortal coil is truly enviable. We’ve lost an icon of cinema this week, but he leaves behind a frankly ridiculous body of work to trawl through (including the odd heavy metal album); a thoroughly worthwhile endeavor if you have the time, or plan on living for as long as the now late great Christopher Lee. SSP

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Review: Ex Machina (2015)

EX-MACHINA

It’s about time a movie delivered on the promise of an AI thriller, particularly in 2015, a year with such disappointing offerings so far. CHAPPIE was underdeveloped to the point of stupidity, and AGE OF ULTRON was muddled and overstuffed. After proving himself as an accomplished writer for the likes of Danny Boyle over the last decade-and-a-half, EX MACHINA sees Alex Garland finally try his hand at directing, and what a debut it is.

When Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) unexpectedly wins a competition to meet the reclusive founder of the technology company he works for, little can he guess what his trip has in store for him. Over the course of a week, Nathan (Oscar Isaac) uses his starstruck employee as a guinea pig for a unique experiment. Caleb’s mission is to conduct a series of Turing tests on Nathan’s artificial intelligence, Ava (Alicia Vikander), to find out whether or not she can fool others into thinking she is human. As the trio test each other, it becomes increasingly clear that everyone has their own agenda, and nothing is as it seems.

As well as fielding all the usual discussions that come with the concept of artificial intelligence – free will, what it means to be human etc – Ex Machina is also a great film exploring the twin themes of observation and control. From the very first shot Caleb is being observed, he is observed from the moment he meets Nathan and especially when he comes into contact with Ava and she starts to process his “micro-expressions”. Likewise, Caleb also observes Nathan and Ava constantly, always trying to figure out what their endgame is. In terms of control all three of our central characters are battling for it, manipulating each other to gain the upper hand. Revealing which of the trio eventually proves themselves to be the master manipulator would be a major spoiler, but suffice to say its enrapturing to find out. The plot is a constantly shifting chess game of a character piece.

For the most part we follow just three characters as they watch each other and we notice both major and minuscule changes in their behaviour as the situation shifts. The task facing three actors under such close scrutiny was not a small one, but Domhnall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander and Oscar Isaac are well up to the challenge. Gleeson and Isaac are both extremely good fits for their characters, playing them as good-natured everyman and charming, subtly creepy schemer respectively, but it is Vikander who makes the biggest impression as Ava. We’ve seen a lot of robots in movies, and a good number of them appeared almost human. Vikander could have gone the full ROBOCOP with stiff, controlled physicality, but she cannily instead has chosen to make Ava natural in all but a few of her movements. After a while, you can forget she’s an artificial being until a slightly odd change in expression or movement that doesn’t quite fit the rhythm of a real person gives her away. It’s subtle, sometimes barely noticeable, and all the more uncanny for it.

The film has an eerie, uncomfortable atmosphere throughout, but this is balanced with moments of extreme beauty and glimmers of welcome and unexpected humour. Here Garland has proven himself a talented director with a clear vision right out of the gate, but he is first and foremost a screenwriter, and the script of Ex Machina perhaps represents his finest achievement to date. It’s layered and intelligent without being overwhelmingly science-y, preferring to always bring focus back to observe how its three core characters behave in each other’s company or how they perceive their place in the rich tapestry of life. Much like Nathan refers to Caleb, the film’s dialogue is snappy and quotable, summing up its complex ideas succinctly in profound, brief statements rather than dreary monologues. Garland also indulges his love of left-of-field plot turns and steadily piling up the tension for a thrilling horror-tinged finale.

The film is aesthetically distinct and memorable, but is not concerned with dazzling with fireworks. Ava’s introduction is one of those moments on film that will stay with you. It’s not showy, in fact it’s rather understated. In wide shot, against a wide window she walks slowly into view in profile, her robotic innards revealed by the light shining through her. The plot quickly finds a contrivance for Ava to conceal her inner workings and in doing so save the film’s modest budget, but it makes sense with her character and also makes the occasions when we do see her laid bare all the more startling.

I could dig far deeper into the themes, character motivations and plot of Ex Machina, but trust me when I say you really don’t want to know any more before you experience it for the first time. It’s a sci-fi you want to go into cold to get the very most out of it. I’ve probably said too much simply by writing this review. See it, see it now. If you’ve already seen it, then see it again, then debate it with others – it can only become richer and more enthralling on multiple viewings and through intense debate.  SSP

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