Thursday 12 January 2012

Kill List (2011, Ben Wheatley)


This is a pretty trippy film. An independent British production and largely self funded, Kill List is a dark, brooding insight into the extremeties of how vilolence breeds violence, and the consequences.

Kill List
appropriates a not too radical set up with flashes of symbolic intrigue; two ex-army assassin pals come out of retirement for one last high-paid job, involving three hits. As the film gathers momentum, contrasting the volatile and somewhat mysterious domestic situations of Jay (Neil Maskell) and his partner Gal (Tyres*), Kill List starts to get a bit more sinister, as they are teased with a reveal of something a lot more freaky going on under the surface of the otherwise banal and standardly average brutal murder spree...

Stylistically Kill List's dark underbelly is served well by the Sheffield locale, inviting immidiate and somewhat too easy comparison with Shane Meadows' gritty and run-down anaesthetic portrait of Northern England. Edited and shot with some real ingenuity; Kill List incorporates some interesting and unique uses of jump cuts, editing and camerawork, all adding to a very vicseral, close knit, fluid feel. These methods all give Kill List a controlled, hyperrealism edge that envokes an arthouse persona hidden within a glossy, blood soaked horror/thriller.
The extreme graphic violence is focused on constantly, never pulled away from, uncomfortably so at some points. Not glamourised at all, the violence in Kill List is very realistic and rightly so. The before and after; the staking out and the clean up, all add to the relentlessness and ambiguity of the effect of the violence on the inflictors.

Anyway, shit starts to go pear for the two when their second victim gives a little more insight into what's going on... 'Thanking' jay for every rebuke with a hammer, he envokes the two to take on some morally crusading extra curricular activity, bringing down a torture-porn ring...

It's after this point Kill List takes a dramatic and unexpected turn, entering the realm of The Wicker Man and Rosemary's Baby, with a pretty commendable and shocking ending.

Kill List for me says some interesting things about violence, in whatever capacity. It studies how the weight of human morality involved eventually infects your personality. Like a disease or an addiction, it highlights the price of that momentary grasp of power over something, anything can cost you, with a fate worse than death.

Kill List finds an interesting balance for me between various styles and substantial generic qualities, dipping in and out of each across every scene. Overall this maybe detracts from the effectiveness of the film, and can seem a little confusing and hard to stick with but it is unique and does purvey some interesting readings. I did enjoy watching it and the narrative keeps you engaged but the ending, however interesting and suprising, didn't really tie in enough with the rest of the film leading up to it.

Trailer:



Cal x

Tuesday 10 January 2012

The Yellow Sea (2010, Hong-jin Na)


South Korean cinema is kicking off in a BIG way. A notable film industry for many reasons, output in the last ten years has seen the countries visual exports gaining international recognition across the generic board with phenomenonal domestic and global success after success.

Chan-wook Park's 2003 global smash Oldboy arguably elevated South Korean cinema's action films to a massive new audience and has given rise to some of the most intense, violent and densely packed films I've ever seen.

South Korea is also one of the only countries where domestically produced films regularly out-gross their Hollywood rivals, and after watching a film like The Yellow Sea it's easy to see why...

Hong-jin Na's first film The Chaser was exactly that: a massive game of cat and mouse and hunted and hunter and vice versa with his second feature being no different; a never ending onslaught of intensity for two and a half hours, cut constantly on a heartbeat with intertwining narrative strains, shitloads of characters, tied up with a bow of ultra graphic realistic violence.

Narratively it's incredibly dense. Slightly broken up by a reasonable four chapter system, The Yellow Sea takes it's name from the georaphical location which borders North Korea, China and Russia. We follow North Korean born Josean taxi driver, Goo-nam as he attempts to earn some cash to pay his gambling debts by performing a hit in Seoul for a dodgy geezer. His wife is also missing, apparently last seen in Seoul... So off he goes.

His plans of assassination blatently fall through and the onslaught begins... The shit realy hits the fan when Goo-nam is being hunted by the police, the guy who ordered the hit (who turns out to be a mob don), and a rival cartel boss who's thugs bungled the hit but still want the bounty... Arrgghhh!

These three characters all come to knife-weilding loggerheads and represent different approaches to primal violence and the actual reasoning behind the chaos is relatively insignificant. There is only small amounts of money involved and the sheer weight of violence and death just seems incredibly unnecessary. The whole thing is absolutely mental and just doesn't stop until the end. Incredibly high octane carnage, it shits on every single comic-book-action-hero-franchise of late.

Influences are clearly cyclical here, there's a fantastic The Shining homage with a maze of buses and a hatchet and some of the car chase scenes scream contemporary Hollywood, but to be honest everything is taken to the next level. Furthering the cause and effect chain, some big Korean directors have their first Hollywood features in production now, Jee-woon Kim director of I Saw the Devil and A Tale of Two Sisters is working on Arnie-helmed action flick The Last Stand due out in 2013...

There is no doubt in the near future we're going to see more of the same high-standard, seat tipping stuff from the Koreans. Major Props.

Trailer:




Cal x

Friday 6 January 2012

Our Idiot Brother (2011, Jesse Peretz)


It's hard to know where to start with Our Idiot Brother.

I guess the obvious place is by saying how this film FUCKING RULES as a contemporary comedy with suprisingly dramatic and emotional undertones.

I found the film to be extremely well written, constructed and played out by it's actors, and for me, it managed to find a perfect balance of the two generic strains; between genuine and simple comedy, and the dramatic tensions and prejudices that threaten to disrupt a family unit.

This aspect of the film and how it approached it, really reminded me of Woody Allen's more decent, family focused works like Hannah and her Sisters, exploring some serious existential issues of life and relationships, whithout trivialising them and at the same time successfully creating a lighthearted narrative arch full of lovable characters who learn to love each other dispite their differences.

However cheesy that sounds, it's the way the film goes about that catharsis which deserves commendation and LOADS OF ENJOYMENT. The cheese factor could have been overwhelming and there are some slight whiffs emenating, but the idiot brother in question, Ned (Hollywood-nice-guy, Paul Rudd) manages to be so damn comfortable in this role that he carries it along without too many crippling doubts.

The film follows Ned as he is let out of prison and tries to get back to his relaxed old ways, living off the fat of the land with his best friend Willy Nelson. Unfortunately his baron-von-girlfriend doesn't want to take Ned back and has found someone else to order around. She even denies Ned his best friend Willy Nelson (who is a dog BTW) forcing Ned to become a sort of family nomad, flitting between his sisters abodes, gently fucking up their lives one by one.

Ned never means to fuck anything up of course, but his overly nice qualities end up being his downfall... One of the more notable loose lipped mistakes involves Ned ruining his oldest sisters marriage by catching her husband, Steve Coogan (who plays a massive bastard) in the act of adultery and blabbing about it... Oh Ned! You silly sausage!

The film does get quite dark and unnerving at some points when the seriousness and gravity of his mistakes threaten Ned's happy go-lucky attitude. Does Ned give a shit? No he doesn't, he has a shout and gets on with it. Kudos.

Ned's philosophy is to give people the benefit of the doubt. He thinks that more often than not, people will suprise you with their trustworthyness if you only give them a chance. This really shines through to me. Ned doesn't change his ways, he's not going to be what his uptight, narrow minded sisters want him to be. He's going to be Ned and they're going to love him and you'll love him too.

(N.B. Our Idiot Brother has no UK release date, WHY? They probably don't think we'll be able to handle it's immenseness)

9/10

Trailer:


Cal x

Wednesday 7 December 2011

RACE & REPRESENTATION IN INDEPENDENCE DAY (1996, ROLAND EMMERICH, USA)


This is a sample of my essay writing skills, Esse. Don't plagiarise, play your eyes (some close attention).

Embedded in a backdrop of rich and somewhat obvious colonial and imperial allegories, Independence Day (Roland Emmerich, 1996, USA) proposes a modern and ethnically diverse America (also known as ‘Earth’), defending against an attack from extra-terrestrial war-mongers, who seek to strip the planet of precious resources and exterminate the indigenous population.

The highest grossing blockbuster of 1996, alien invasion epic Independence Day contains many key debates on race and representation in contemporary Hollywood. The representation of Will Smith especially, needs to be looked at in depth, as this film marks a major turning point for Black representation in contemporary SF film. Using Smith as an example, we can also contrast his personal representation of Black identity to theories of the dominant White masculine hero, immortalised by SF poster-boy, Charlton Heston, who Smith has literally replaced in the 2007 remake of The Omega Man (1971, Boris Sagal, USA): I Am Legend (2007, Francis Lawrence, USA).

At first glance, Independence Day could be seen as being fairly progressive and more realistic in its scope of a multicultural modern America, displaying a ‘poster perfect alliance of multi-ethnic American’s battling aliens and making America and the rest of the world safe’ (McCriskin & Pepper: 2005: 32). Although in terms of diverse representation, the tarring of the whole world with America’s brush is heavily corrupt and evokes notions of cultural imperialism. The significance of the title itself directly reconceptualises America’s independence from British rule, into universal independence from an alien oppressor.

Independence Day manages to portray America as the safe guarders of the whole world, yet coverage of foreign nation’s plight is scarce. The ending sequence is the only point we are transported outside of the US, where we witness various countries celebrating the defeat of the evil aliens. Gregory Jay notes that this tries to displace any theories of racism; by the camera panning ‘an African savannah, where traditionally dressed tribesmen wave spears in jubilation at the sight of the downed alien craft. The actuality of the postcolonial condition... is erased by a visual narrative that returns the happy primitives to their place in the world’ (1997:63).

This over-looking of racial difference is central to the connection and camaraderie of the main characters and also promotes the image of a forward thinking, racially integrated America. It also furthers concepts of America as a hegemonic global capital. McCrisken & Pepper state that ‘Independence Day’s appeal to an imaginary universal is at once conceived as an American celebration and as the manifestation of a triumphant America bestriding a world – and a new world order, apparently formed in its own image’(2005: 33). Historically in SF, the role of the ‘structuring other’ has its roots in white middle-class fears, whether from communism or black militarism. In Independence Day however, this other is further removed and placed on an alien other, considered a threat to the whole globe, ‘therefore no American identity needs to be othered, or at least no ethnic identity’ (Davies & Smith: 1997: 149).

The film was a massive worldwide hit, grossing $306 Million (Maltby: 1995: 576). In India the film was dubbed into ‘Hindi, Telegu and Tamil. Release strategies for Independence Day and Eraser (Chuck Russell, 1996, USA) were based on regional linguistic preferences – focusing on the south, for example, where English-language features had been successful’ (Miller et al: 2005: 319). Independence Day ‘s international marketing appeal, provides a route for the appropriation of clear cut ideologies of how America wants to be viewed: as racially integrated, defenders of annihilation by the alien ‘other’ and of course by proxy of Hollywood, the one’s they want to attack first.

The three main protagonists are from different racial backgrounds (Black, White, Jewish) and they all club together, to play their part in defending a greater humanity. Unfortunately, like its representation of internationality, ‘the complexities of identity politics are reduced to ‘petty differences’’ (Davies & Smith: 1997: 149) and the film still purveys some clear hierarchical structures and racial stereotypes.

Although the main protagonists are ethnically diverse and each are designated a fairly equal chunk of screen time, stereotypical structures of representation are still overtly apparent.
White President Thomas J. Whitmore (Bill Pullman) is a young, enigmatic John F. Kennedy figure;
a family man who utilises his vast military and political power to orchestrate the physical attacks on the aliens. Jewish scientist, David Levinson (Jeff Goldblum) uses his superior intelligence and computing knowledge to gain technical advantages over the aliens, breaking down their shields and communications. Finally, the man on the front line, Captain Steven Hiller (Will Smith) harnesses his black masculinity to physically eliminate the threat, further ridiculing the aliens with witty banter: ‘now that’s what I call a close encounter’. The casting of Will Smith in this black masculine role is paramount, as it enables us to explore much more deeply; themes and representation of blackness in contemporary Hollywood, and more specifically the SF genre.

‘Black racial representation in American SF cinema in the 1990’s demonstrated a shift away from the type of simple tokenism found in the staunchly conservative 1980s’ (Nama: 2008: 38-39). Independence Day, one of Smith’s first lead roles, just after he had finished his final season of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, was the springboard which entered him into an expansive career, frequently linked with SF blockbusters. Smith’s career sees him propelled into a small group of leading black actors in Hollywood, now commanding highly prolific roles and even being able to take the lead role in I, Robot (2004, Alex Proyas, USA & Germany) & I Am Legend. Breaking this trend in racial representation of the traditional Hollywood star, which has classically been immortalised by white masculinity, Will Smith ‘reinvigorated the status of blackness in SF cinema’ (Nama: 2008: 39) and no doubt appears to bring a very progressive and essential role in representing Blackness in film.

However, when we look at historical representation of how physical Black presence has been dealt with or more importantly, not dealt with in film (especially the SF genre), we can see how the SF genre is implicitly linked to discourses of race and representation, and how only recently, with the advent of a few key roles, we see representation of blackness entering into the fore-ground.

There is a notable trend of acceptable qualities and routes to stardom for contemporary Black actors that culminate in reinforcing what Manthia Diawara sees as ‘the dominant cinema situat[ing] Black characters primarily for the pleasure of white spectators’ (1993: 215).
This pleasure for the white spectator, Diawara argues; is derived by making black characters non-threatening and consistently only situating Blacks in a context compared to Whites. ‘One may note how Black male characters in contemporary Hollywood films are made less threatening to whites either by White domestication of Black customs and culture – a process of deracination and isolation – or by stories in which Blacks are depicted playing by the rules of White society and losing’ (1993: 215).

If we look at some of the common ways for contemporary black actors to gain notoriety within the industry, we can see that there are certain buffer-zones that serve a purpose to, in many ways emasculate and commodify such characters for the accessibility of white visual pleasure. Two of the predominant routes that we can see are comedy and hip-hop, which serve as major facilitators for black actors to make a transition to the big screen. Will Smith - who Adilifu Nama describes as ‘a seminal figure in American SF cinema. Blend[ing] the racially non-threatening posture of Sidney Poitier with the charismatic bravado of Eddie Murphy’ (2008: 39) - is an exemplary case of this ‘White domestication of Black customs and culture’ (Diawara: 1993: 215) as his rise to stardom incorporates both these aspects of mainstream Black culture, packaged in a non-threatening, desirably cool and often sexualised way.

Will Smith’s pleasure for white spectators is in part, down to his black cultural accessibility. His incredibly successful hip-hop career with DJ Jazzy Jeff kicked off his moniker ‘The Fresh Prince’ and the duo revelled in the lighter side of mainstream 1980’s hip-hop, veering away from the more demonised and less culturally acceptable world of hardcore gangster rap. This propelled Smith into his own television series The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, where he is thrust away from the ghetto of West Philadelphia, into a distinctly white vision of a wealthy Black domestic sphere. It is in this environment where Will Smith’s on -screen persona is born; charming with the ladies, witty, ultra-cool, mischievous, slightly goofy and sassy, all traits that stay intertwined with his representation in Independence Day, and a majority of his roles to follow.

It’s this overarching essence of ‘cool’ that is inherently linked with his racial identity and accessibility for this ‘coolness’ to be coded into white visual pleasure and aspirations. Nama puts great emphasis on how ‘Will Smith’s cool-guy persona enabled him to explore strange new worlds and go places few black actors have ever gone before, such as being the headline star of a major SF motion picture’ (Nama: 2008: 39).

Geoff King reinforces this by saying that ‘the Will Smith persona is 'nice,' charming and unthreatening [and] has already been seen as a major factor in his ability to be seen as a performer appealing to white and/or middle class audiences. This has ideological-political undertones: only by appearing 'safe,' or by appearing to mask the existence of racial divisions, can a black performer become a major Hollywood star’ (2002: 168). Will Smith’s ability to appear to transcend racial difference, is a concurrent theme in popular discourse around the star, and is problematic as it addresses issues of how contemporary black actors have to be seen to be de-racialised or have an element of their ‘cool’ blackness made accessible, in order to become successful.

Lorrie Palmer also notes this problem by saying ‘the implication is that transcending race is the cultural and economic cushion for both an industry and an entertainment network that has not yet figured out how to address Smith's actual blackness’ (2011: 34).

Independence Day highlights a point in contemporary SF where the black body comes out of metaphorical and into the physical. The white masculine SF hero of the past, repelling and protecting against the threat of the other, is now shifted to Will Smith. Through his racial ambiguity and appeal, Smith embodies a universally inclusive futuristic vision of SF, showcasing through the skimming over of racial tensions; that the militarism and racism of the past are over.

Nama notes in her introduction in Black Space that ‘in spite of the overt omission of black representation and racial issues in SF cinema, I have found that both are present in numerous films. Albeit implicit – as structured absence, repressed or symbolic – blackness and race are often present in SF films as narrative subtext or implicit allegorical subject’ (2008: 2).
Charlton Heston, once embodied everything it was to be a white, masculine, all-American SF hero and many of his more famous roles – Planet of the Apes (1968, Franklin Schaffner, USA), Soylent Green (1973, Richard Fleischer, USA) and The Omega Man explore dystopian futures where racial allegories are closely linked to the socio-political status and unrest of America at the time. The Omega Man is significant as its context and subject matter directly relate to the perils of interracial mixing and eugenics and also the unrest and fear of black militarism. In the film Heston plays Robert Neville, a scientist who manages to invent a vaccine to stop him getting infected and turning into one of ‘the family’. He also saves a young black character by transfusing his white blood into him, effectively making him mixed race, the white blood, mixing with the black, cancelling out the ‘evil’ within. Heston also gets involved in an interracial relationship himself, which ultimately ‘gives way to grave consequences’ (Nama: 2008: 50) and ultimately causes both of Neville’s black allies to desert him in favour of the dark side.

What’s significant is that over 30 years later, Smith stars in the remake, which has none of the obvious racial allegories of the former, painting a new, progressive and seemingly less racially specific last man on earth. Smith’s racial representation invites a complex discourse of why and how he has become such a massive global star, ultimately down to his ability to embody positive and negative stereotypes of black masculinity and at the same time denounce them. Reaching a widespread fan-base and able to reap massive box office success, Smith is Hollywood gold, and for many reasons (many of them problematic) his appropriation as the black face of contemporary SF highlights many key debates of how representation of race - in a wider social and political context, functions.

Independence Day serves as a very important platform for Smith to reinvent the status of black representation in contemporary Hollywood SF cinema and in turn sees him permeate the whole industry, radically shifting the dominant racial paradigms of the past.
It also projects a view of a dominant America, one which is seen to incorporate a progressive multi-ethnic diversity, but also one that, like Will Smith’s persona, skims over any notions of racial difference.

Bibliography

Davies, Jude & Smith, Carol (1997) Gender, Ethnicity and Sexuality in Contemporary American Film. Edinburgh: Keele University Press.

Diawara, Manthia (1993) Black American Cinema. New York: Routledge.

Dyer, Richard (1986) Heavenly Bodies: Film Stars and Society. London: Macmillian Education Ltd.

Jay, Gregory (1997) ‘American Literature and the Culture Wars’ in: Palmer, Lorrie (2011) ‘Black Man/White Machine: Will Smith Crosses Over’ The Velvet Light Trap; 67, pp. 28-40.

King, Geoff (2002) Star Power “New Hollywood Cinema: An Introduction”. New York: Columbia University Press.

Kuhn, Anette (ed) (1999) Alien Zone II: The Spaces of Science Fiction Cinema. London: Verso.

Maltby, Richard (1995) Hollywood Cinema 2nd Edition. London: Blackwell.

McCrisken, Trevor & Pepper, Andrew (2005) American History and Contemporary Hollywood Film. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

Miller, Toby et al. (2005) Global Hollywood 2. London: BFI.

Nama, Adilifu (2008) Black Space: Imagining Race in Science Fiction Film. Texas: University of Texas Press.

Puwar, Nirmal (2004) Space Invaders: Race, Gender and Bodies Out of Place. New York: Berg.

Willis, Sharon (1997) High Contrast: Race and Gender in Contemporary Hollywood Film. USA: Duke University Press.

Journals

Palmer, Lorrie (2011) ‘Black Man/White Machine: Will Smith Crosses Over’ The Velvet Light Trap; 67, pp. 28-40. Available at: http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/the_velvet_light_trap/v067/67.palmer.html#b5

Cal x

Thursday 10 November 2011

Failsafe (1964, Sidney Lumet) & Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964, Stanley Kubrick)

Dr. Strangelove

Failsafe


Failsafe and Dr. Strangelove are two sides of the same coin.
Both explore an impending accidental nuclear apocolypse in the infancy of the Cold War period. Both are based on novels, the former based on Failsafe by Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler and the latter based on Red Alert by Peter George.

There's some mental legal beurocracy behind the scenes of these films.
Both released in the same year, Kubrick was dubious about the reception of his own film, as Lumet's thriller had some big names attached, and the added edge of realism and potent social commentary, whereas the satirical nature of Dr. Strangelove approached the issue in a different light.
The novel of Failsafe was accused of plagiarising the former Red Alert and there was a legal battle between them, settling out of court...
Dr. Strangelove
was released eight months before Failsafe and the test of time has seen Kubrick's masterpiece outshine Lumet's equally as enthralling work in memory and box office reciepts.

Failsafe is just extremely tense and masterfully shot.
The bomber scenes convey the insane consequences that de-humanising military pawns can have on the fate of human existance.

The acting is outstanding and is amazingly scripted, with some deep philosophical insights into the mindset of mislaid power struggles and inept preventative systems which are put in place to stop us tearing ourselves from the face of the planet, but end up putting way too much power and control in the hands of incompetency.

The bizarre hypocricy and stale-mate politics of human's 'ultimate' control of such powerful weapons, lays far too much pressure on the human mind, and Failsafe highlights the ludicrousness of this weight of decision and nuclear weapons in general.

Amazingly put together, with some of the most tense cinematic moments ever, this is one of my all time fav's as it is captivating, insightful and downright scary right 'til the climax.

10/10!

Trailer:


Dr. Strangelove's take on an extremely similar storyline runs with this ludicrousness even further, directly challenging and mocking the power structure of cold war doomsday weapons, and just purely saying 'what the fuck was wrong with them'.

Peter Sellers plays three of the main characters in this film and is just amazingly funny in all of them...
Enternalising the stupidity of nuclear war in his Dr. Strangelove character, Sellers plays an 'ex'-Nazi, who is granted the influential power of scientific advisor to the president...

There really isn't much to say apart from this is one of the funniest, most influential satirical comedies of the last 50 years without a DOUBT, and has one of the most iconic ending sequences in the history of film.

10/10!

Amazing trailer as well!:


Cal x

The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (2011, Steven Spielberg)




I have been looking forward to this for tiiime!

I loved Tintin as a kid (who didn't?), which led me to be equally apprehensive and excited about the prospect of a immense budget Spielberg rework. Not to mention the script being produced by some absolute creme de la' of British comedy talent, in the form of Stephen Moffat, Edgar Wright and Joe Cornish (big up Cornballs!).

There was a huge amount of buzz round this film, as there often is when it takes a long time from conception to production.
Mixed reviews and the prospect of die hard Tintin fans being let down, softened the blow a little for me, so I went in with fairly low expectations...

First of all, this film looks fantastic. The quality of animation is by far the most original, silky smooth, amazingly textured and just plain beautiful constructed visuals I have seen in a long, long time.

The motion capture technology is tip-top, bringing real clarity and fluidity to the characters and also helps stay true to the original graphic novel's clean cut, simplistic, pastel coloured animated style.

It's literally mind blowing how good it looks, so much detail is crammed into every shot that it just sort of flows over you with a wash of hyperreal, colourful and high-octane action. It's fully immersive and captivating, which animated films (for me) don't do very often.

OK so enough about looks, we know it's all about personality...
This film should be called The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Crab with the Golden Unicorn Claws, as it ambiguously incorporates a few Tintin stories into one. This confused me a little at first but does enrichen the narrative slightly, opening the story up to a wider range of locations and characters.

I did find the story a little shallow though. It seemed to rush through without any true climactic moments that really stick out as being brilliantly orchestrated set-pieces.
Don't get me wrong, there's some amazing action sequences that are wonderfully choreographed, and do well to showcase the freedom that doing this kind of animation brings, but they just seemed to fall a little short of spectacular.
However, the distinct comedic charm and mystery of Herge's original ouvre is definitely portrayed in a fantastically original and multi-layered form, helped a lot by the scriptual tweaks.

The 'acting' for me stays true to the essence of Tintin, Captain Haddock's (Andy Serkis) performance is great, really captivating his belching whiskey doused charisma really well.
Tintin (Jamie Bell) himself is played a little different, but equally charming. Snowy's performance is outstanding too...
The Thompson Twins (Simon Pegg and Nick frost) deserve a mention too, creating a very considered, funny picture of the bumbling police officers, who save the day when it counts.

This film serves an obvious purpose, as a set-up to a franchise, which is of course inevitable.
It does come across as a prequel-esque introduction to a new generation of Tintin which I am pretty satisfied with, and definitely leaves me wanting Destination Moon to lift off soon...

On the whole Tintin is really captivating, showcasing the best of modern animation techniques.
It breathes big-screen life into the massively popular and timeless stories which are built upon extremely competently by a great script and cast.
Definitely DON'T go and see it in 3D as it is completely lost in the brilliant 3D animation technique and is an utter waste of money...
Highly reccomended to Tintin fans and a wholly capable introduction if you're new to the stories.

7/10



Trailer:


Cal x

Wednesday 26 October 2011

The Beaver (2011, Jodie Foster)


'What?'
'Yeah'
'Really'
'Mhmmm'

Jodie Tallulah Foster's third Directorial role see's Melly G* plumeting towards self destruction and being pulled from the brink by a Beaver.

'Yeah'.

I immediatlely wanted to see this mainly for jokes, and it is. Depressing jokes.

Unfortunately Jodie has to fucking ruin any fun Melly G and The Beaver might have, by making it all serious and lowly and bawdy and quite boring and fascile and slow.

She also appears in the film, as Melly G's wife, further ruining any prospective anti-semetic wood gnawing adventures and complaining about wanting 'My real Husband back'.

In other words she is a Captain Bring-down.

The premise is pretty interesting and kind of unique; Walter Black (Melly G) invents a split personality to try and cope with extreme depression and his manifestation happens to involve a hairy beaver.

Every aspect of communication has been taken over, the beaver starts running his company, parenting his kids and fucking his wife...

The whole thing is pretty cheese filled and the storyline involving his Son (Anton Yelchin) is major balls.
He hates his Dad and is constantly listing similarities and trying to spiritually vacate any shared characteristics they have. There's a little love story where he tries to reconcile a girls mourning for her dead brother by making her DO SUM GRAFF. Please...

There was a lot of potential in this and it is a great idea. The ending is pretty rad overall but the film is very slow and fraught with a dichotomy between ultra depressing pessimism and an overt sillyness that just undermines any seriousness of the narrative.
I guess that's what Foster was trying to do, so in a way this is an astounding success.

In another way it was not very enjoyable as it failed to find the balance for me.

Interesting themes, covered in a original light and quite comedic in places, but executed poorly...

5/10

*Mel Gibson

Trailer:


Cal x