Saturday, 3 August 2013

God Forgives. I Don't.

I’ve been to see “Only God Forgives’ so you don’t have to.

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Can someone please tell Ryan Gosling that acting is re-acting? Can someone please tell Ryan Gosling that staring into the middle distance is not the same thing at all.

Can someone please tell director Nicolas Winding Refn that style over substance is fine, but you do have to have some style. Bathing the sets in red light is not the same as having an aesthetic. Using one point perspective does not make you Kubrick. Being deliberately provocative is not the same as being uncompromising. Baiting your audience is not the same as being thought provoking.

As you can probably tell I hated this film, but then I hated Drive too by the same team - so your mileage may vary.

*spoilers*

In this one we are in Bangkok, but really we are in hell. We know this because everything is in red. Ryan Gosling’s brother decides he wants to rape a 14 year old girl but there are none available so he kills a prostitute instead. He sits around leering, waiting for the police to show, because really he’s the devil (we know this because he’s bathed in red, oh, and is framed beneath a big devil’s face). The chief of police (called ‘The Angel of Vengeance’) allows the dead girl’s father to exact revenge, which is nice of him, but then chops off the father’s hand so that he will think about what a bad father he’s been and think about his other daughters and think about how he could have stopped all this violence earlier. That’s the kind of thing the ‘Angel of Vengeance’ does. It’s important; the film will come back to this.

Ryan Gosling likes to watch Thai girls masturbate in front of him. It shows discipline and restraint you see. But then all this violence wells up inside of him so when he finds out his brother has been killed you expect him to ‘get medieval’ on someone’s ass, but no, he lets the prostitute’s father go instead of shooting him because I guess he already knows his brother was a total arse-hole who deserved what he got. You could say he….forgives…geddit?

Which would be the end except that Ryan Gosling’s mother is Kristin Scott Thomas and she’s one pissed off lady. She’s like an Essex version of Lady Macbeth. She’s straight out of a Martina Cole novel. She’s a hardcore gangster. We know this because she shouts at receptionists and says ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’ a lot. She really loves her boys. Really, really loves them in an Oedipus complex kind of way. So, she flies into town and will have her bloody revenge even if it means sidelining sappy Ryan out of her drug smuggling business in the process.

Ryan wishes he could just bring a nice girl home to meet mother and be normal so he plays out that exact situation but hires a classy prostitute to be the ‘nice girl’. Mother’s having none of it and after a meal out together it all ends badly. Ryan suddenly realizes he paid for the girls dress though and demands it back off her in the street even though she’s still wearing it. That’s the kind of guy he is. He shouts during this bit which somewhat shocks the audience because we just assume ‘staring into the middle distance’ is Ryan’s default setting.

So anyway, as you can probably imagine, this soon spirals into a bloody cycle of tit for tat retribution…blah,  blah, blah…during which Ryan’s stare has become so irksome that you badly want someone to slap him. When it actually happens and he gets his ass kicked by the ‘Angel of Retribution’ you’ll be cheering.

Towards the end of the film Ryan symbolically penetrates his mother by fingering her fatal wounds (I swear this is all true) and then faces an interesting dilemma. Should he kill The Angel of Vengeance’s wife and daughter like his mother has demanded or let them go like his conscience dictates? In the end he compromises and let’s a henchman kill the wife but shoots the same henchman before he can start on the kid. So, I guess he has learned something along the way but not enough. There’s still one final lesson. In the end he has to face the ‘Angel of Vengeance’ himself in a field.  The lesson he learns is that he could have stopped this violence at any point. He learns this lesson by getting his hands chopped off. Bet he won’t be forgetting what a dumbkopf he’s been now.

And then the ‘Angel of Vengeance’ sings some karaoke in a bar as the end credits roll.

I shit you not.

So I guess it’s intended as a meditation on the nature of cyclic violence or something but to be honest it just makes me want to take the director outside and smash his face in.

Friday, 2 August 2013

I Dreamed A Dream. And It Was Horrible.

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Do you hear the people sing? Yes, they all sound like artful dodger cock-er-neys. They’re awful.

As a film it’s fine - it’s one of the best designed, best photographed, best directed costume dramas you’re ever likely to see and the performances are all round impressive. As a musical though it’s really poor. Painfully poor.

Now, I don’t have a problem with musicals, it’s not my favourite genre but I don’t mind a good tune and a good sing-a-long. This isn’t a sing- song musical though. This is a speak-song musical where every line is just stretched out exposition. It’s exactly like watching laymen spoof the operatic style, all - “Loookk, loook at meeee! For here I goooo To speeeaakk to a mannn who runnnsss the townnn!” for two and a half hours.  Now I could cope with that if it had say maybe four really standout songs but for me it didn’t have any. In a two and a half hour musical that’s a bit of a letdown to say the least. It’s repetitive, it’s monotone and it’s leaden.  Go watch The Umbrellas of Cherbourg to see how this style should be done.

The other stumbling block, and this is a problem I have with most literary 19th century ‘classics’ is that the story is all contrivances, coincidence and people falling in love at first glance. In short, nobody behaves like a sane adult and it just gets ridiculous.

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Overall it’s a draining experience. Not without merit, but not one I’d want to repeat either.

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Fisted.



You have offended my family and you have offended the Shaolin Temple.”

- Bruce Lee in ‘Enter The Dragon”.


If we consider the martial-arts film to be an art form, what then are we to make of ‘The Man With The Iron Fists’? It is a ballet with Russell Crowe reciting poetry stage left. It is a Ming vase tagged with graffiti. It is Haiku with a uh, uh, uh at the end of every line. It is Bruce Lee with bling. It is The Man With The Iron Fists - with ‘DOPE’ tattooed on the knuckles of one hand and ‘FAKE’ tattooed on the other. It’s Kill Bill Unchained’, all gangsta rap arrogance and grindhouse thrills, but it’s never as good as you want it to be and never as good as it wants to be. The fighting set pieces (and we all in came for the fighting, right?) have gory, comic inventiveness but nothing seems to happen in real time and they are poorly edited and badly scored to hip hop beats and sampled cues. There is no sting to the action and no purpose to the plot. It was a mistake to run with RZA as he has no screen presence at all. Russell Crowe in Clint Eastwood drag channels Richard Burton and ends up like your uncle doing a Brian Blessed impression. Lucy Lieu still thinks she’s on the set of ‘Kill Bill. The villains look like they’re in a big hair/cock rock video. Worst of all it teeters uncomfortably between homage and crap the whole way through meaning you can never really go with it. You’re expecting it to fall on it’s feet at any moment and when it doesn’t you convince yourself that it’s actually quite good but then along comes something else to make you wonder if anyone knew what they were doing. It’s very strange, an homage to martial arts films that misses all the points about what made them so enjoyable in the first place and a weird clash of cultures that loses everything in translation.

Friday, 26 July 2013

Not With A Bang....But A Whimper

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As the final part of the self proclaimed ‘Three Flavours Cornetto’ trilogy this is solid entertainment but sadly I just didn’t find it funny enough.


I felt it was inferior to Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz even though it successfully hits the same vibe and is helped along by a superb soundtrack. Maybe it all feels a bit too familiar this time out. Simon Pegg is certainly starting to outstay his welcome and his character here purposefully remains an irritant from beginning to end which doesn’t help. The cream of current British acting talent is here and nobody lets the side down but it’s a bit like everyone has signed on to  appear in a fairly mundane episode of Dr Who. That’s a large part of the problem. The alien invasion theme doesn’t seem to offer as much comic potential or genre bending possibilities as the zombie and action movie spoofs that precede it. it lacks that extra hit of inventiveness that I was hoping for.

All the cornettos have been eaten and this is the way the world ends …not with a bang

…but a whimper.

Z's Undead Baby. Z's Undead

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The world is a horrible place full of weird hotspots like Korea and Israel where bad stuff happens that we don’t really understand. Bad stuff like wars and humanitarian disasters and zombie epidemics. But we don’t need to worry about that because Brad Pitt (who looks like Jesus) is going to figure it out, stop it happening and then we can all get on with our lives.

Fortunately World War Z isn’t too bothered by subtext any more than it’s bothered by using it’s literary source material. It’s a big fuck off zombie and it knows it. What we we have is set piece after set piece and the ace up it’s sleeve is a money shot of hoards of zombies coming at ya. There’s thousands of them and these aren’t your shambling cadavers, these are your 28 Days Later zombies on red bull.

It’s tense, it’s frightening to think about and it’s awesome to look at. Think Cecil B DeMille rather than George Romero.

It focuses too much on Brad’s wife and kids. I don’t care about Brad’s wife and kids and they’re only in the movie to show that Brad has personal responsibilities. The wife could have been much better used if she had some skills or was an equal to Brad as a scientist or reporter working on the problem from a different angle in another part of the world. But no, she’s there to give him a bit of a nagging, slow him down when they’re raiding the supermarket and basically just cause him problems. The wife and kids get to stay on an aircraft carrier which is pretty cool but it doesn’t take long before the military figure out that they’re a waste of space and want them off the boat. Like I say, nothing but problems.

Meanwhile, Brad flies all the way to South Korea just so that he can touch down and run away from zombies. This bit is like an action movie. Then we see him lobbing grenades in Jerusalem at all these zombie intruders breaching the walls. This bit is like a war movie with suspect politics. Then he gets on a plane…but…get this…there’s zombies on the plane! So this bit is like a disaster movie.

The final act is a bit weird. After all this epic globetrotting activity we end up in a World Health research laboratory in Cardiff. Yes, Cardiff. You see Brad has figured out that zombies aren’t too keen on munching on people who already have terminal illness. I’m not sure why he had to go round the world to figure this out when surely a visit to any hospital would have revealed the same thing, but then I’m not a UN advisor like Brad.

So it scales stuff down for the finale - just Brad, a handful of zombies and some vials of terminal illness that need to get from point A to point B. This bit isn’t quite as nerve wracking as it should be because we know Brad’s going to make it. He’s Brad Pitt.

Any great zombie movie needs a dark ending. This is not that movie. This is a massive budget Brad Pitt movie so we get a dumb “This isn’t the end. Not even close." message. They should have just ended with his wife and kids getting eaten. Something bleak like that. Something horrible. But no, it’s clear that we’ve been building towards a damp squib of an ending.

Another disappointing blockbuster.

Monday, 22 July 2013

Taken 2 The Cleaners

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Taken was a surprise hit in 2008 with Liam Neeson’s ‘very particular set of skills’ giving an otherwise routine revenge thriller some credibility and a ruthless protagonist.

This sequel tries to ratchet up the intensity by having Neeson’s character looking out for himself as well as protecting his daughter and his ex-wife but the plot quickly paints itself into a corner. There’s no real third act. No climax. No satisfying showdown. The killing and disarming of the endless supply of chubby Albanians becomes tediously repetitive to the point that you start noticing details about the decor of rooms, and also there’s a car chase that seems grafted on from another movie.

It has one good idea - Neeson passing on his field craft to his daughter so that she can rescue him - but this ultimately takes us nowhere as he  manages to free himself without her help anyway.

The lasting impression is that we’ve jumped straight from Death Wish to Death Wish V in the space of one film.

Better than a Steven Seagal film. But not much better.

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Cancel the Apocalypse. Please. 'Pacific Rim'.

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Big fucking robots


Big fucking monsters


Big fucking robots hitting big fucking monsters


Big fucking robots hitting big fucking monsters in the rain


Big fucking boat


Big fucking city


Big fucking robots hitting big fucking monsters with a big fucking boat in a big fucking city in the rain


Bigger fucking monsters


Bigger fucking robots


Big fucking waste of time

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