Jack Pelling

Film Review: Byzantium

2013-05-15T06:15:29-04:00

I think we can all agree that the last thing the film world needs as another tale of mopey, bloodsucking teenagers, but Neil Jordan's latest vampirical tale, Byzantium, is clearly doing everything it can to distance itself from the world of Stephanie Meyer. Based on a play by Tamara Drew writer Moira Buffini, Gemma Arterton stars as the sexy but ruthless Clara, a vampire on the run from a mysterious gang of assailants with her teenage accomplice, Eleanor, played with timid intelligence by Saoirse Ronan. The two find themselves hiding out in a disused guesthouse called Byzantium in a wonderfully dilapidated English coastal resort. Clara transforms the dying hotel into a brothel in order to support herself and Eleanor, now posing as her daughter.

Eleanor, weary of life on the run and hounded by the secrets she must keep, begins to fall for a local boy working as a waiter in the town (Caleb Landry Jones), only to find out that he is suffering from leukaemia. However, as the two become closer, Clara's clandestine past is at risk of becoming exposed. On top of this, Eleanor is tortured by visions of the town in the 1800's, leading her to think that she may have been here before. The portrayal of the town as a once-thriving, now decaying wasteland is particularly well realised, and provides the perfect backdrop for her struggle with alienation.

Most of the usual vampire traits are dispensed with. Gone are the fangs, garlic, bats and stakes, and our heroines have no problem popping down to the shops at daytime. Instead they puncture their victims' jugulars with creepy thumb nails before sucking them dry. Eleanor, however, is a slightly more contentious predator; only taking sustenance from those who have given their consent. Like a sort of vampirical Dignitas. There are some great moments of shock and B-movie gore and the meandering plot and anachronistic flashback scenes are always intriguing. However, as much as Jordan is trying to subvert the current state of the genre he knows so well, Byzantium is not without its moments of shoe-gazing and angst-ridden contemplation.

Both lead characters are rounded and believable, as you would expect from two actors of Arterton and Ronan's calibre, but the most enjoyable performances come from the supporting cast. Daniel Mays is playfully pitiful as the bereaved hotel owner, besotted by Clara's headstrong beauty, and Tom Hollander is great company as Eleanor's English teacher who is alarmed by her grizzly stories (little does he know that they are mostly autobiographical). Johnny Lee Miller and Sam Riley also impress as the spectres of Clara's past. Miller is particularly repellent and his implacable pursuit of the girls provides a much needed threat.

Byzantium is beautiful shot and gets some great performances out of its well-cast leads, but as much as it tries to avoid the conventions of the genre, it can't help but feeling like another inhabitant of the overpopulated world of moody, teenage Vampire films.

★★★☆☆

Byzantium is released in the UK 31st May

Film Review: Epic

2013-05-14T09:28:28-04:00

Epic is the latest 3D CGI romp from Blue Sky Studios: the team behind the lavish and lucrative Rio and Ice Age films. Directed by Blue Sky co-founder, Chris Wedge, Epic tells the story of a young teenager named M.K. (Amanda Seyfried), who is forced to move in with her estranged, crackpot father, Professor Bomba (Jason Sudeikis) following the death of her mother. The relationship is strained by Bomba's obsession with an unseen race of tiny people who live in the woods. After M.K. loses patience with her father's devotion to his work, she wonders into the forest only to be inadvertently shrunk down into the world of the insect-like people and handed the heart of the forest by a dying queen (Beonycé). Suddenly aware that her father was right, she embarks on a journey with the mysterious Leafmen leader Ronin (Colin Farrell) and his irksome sidekick Nod, to save the forest from the evil Boggans and find a way of returning home. Quite why the Boggans want to destroy the forest is not entirely clear, but the nebulous motivation of its antagonists is the least of Epic's problems.

There's no denying that Epic looks stunning; with beautiful, lush, green landscapes; a multitude of well-rendered animals and insects; and an impressively immersive world comparable to that of Avatar. But, like James Cameron's 3D game changer, Epic relies too heavily on aesthetics and not nearly enough on character. Thankfully, our lead, the heroic teenager M.K, is likable and well-drawn, but almost every other character she meets on her journey is bland, generic and humourless. The comic relief is provided in the form of a slug and snail double act voiced by Aziz Ansari and Chris O'Dowd, as well as a scene-stealing three-legged pug. The jokes arrive with varying degrees of success, but they are always welcome as the rest of the film takes itself incredibly seriously.

The voice cast boasts and array of talent that is not entirely capitalised upon, but Christoph Waltz provides pantomime menace as the sinister Boggan leader, Mandrake. There are also vocal turns from Steven Tyler, Josh Hutcherson and Judah Friedlander, but you could be forgiven for not picking up on them. The problems arise in the casting of Farrell and Beyoncé. Farrell uses his native Irish accent for Ronin, the head Leafman and dullest inhabitant of the forest, whose all-American, John Wayne-Clint Eastwood-style features are at odds with his's Celtic lilt. It is easy to see why Beyoncé was chosen as the Queen of the forest; she's almost universally accepted as the most beautiful woman on the Earth, but her sassy performance is more 'mother f**ker' than 'Mother Earth'.

Epic feels long, even at 100 minutes, and the trajectory of the plot is clear from the opening scene. There are some exciting chase sequences, and the 3D is surprisingly impressive, but this is probably one for the under 8s. Like the supermodel that campaigns for the rainforest, Epic is beautiful and well intentioned, but ultimately hollow and slightly dull. Younger audience members are likely to enjoy it, but there is little for Mum and Dad in this feral, family frolic.

★★☆☆☆

Film Review: Star Trek Into Darkness

2013-05-07T06:58:59-04:00

J. J. Abrams' second voyage into the Star Trek universe is a bigger, brighter, but not necessarily better affair, but fans of the 2009 movie will be happy to hear that there is just as much fun to be had second time around. Despite the ominous title, Star Trek Into Darkness is a funny, bombastic and high-octane ride that easily exceeds the summer blockbuster criteria. Origin stories are hard to better, and while Abram's Star Trek achieved the seemingly impossible feat of appeasing Trekkies and bringing new fans to the franchise by reassessing the relationship between Kirk and Spock, Into Darkness focuses predominantly on Kirk's personal journey, and loses some of its heart in the process. The hard core fans will enjoy nods and references galore, to one film in particular, but the synergy of old and new Trek is not as successful as it was first time around, and many knowing gags will seem discordant to the uninitiated.

Many details of the plot must be retained for fear of spoilers, but Star Trek Into Darkness sees Kirk (Chris Pine) demoted from his position of captain of the Enterprise after deliberately breaking the rules to save Spock (Zachary Quinto) from being incinerated by an erupting volcano; a jaw-dropping opening, which immediately outdoes any of the spectacular set-pieces in Star Trek. Meanwhile, a Star Fleet building in London is attacked by a sinister terrorist known as John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch), and when the threat gets closer to home, Kirk sets out for revenge.

Pine and Quinto quickly rediscover the same repartee established in the previous film, and the remaining members of the brilliantly-assembled Enterprise crew feel like they have never been away. Karl Urban's Bones stretches his homemade metaphors further than ever, and Simon Pegg basks in the light of his extended comic role. Alice Eve is the newest edition to the gang, playing the mysterious Dr. Carol Marcus, daughter of the newly introduced Star Fleet Admiral Marcus, played by Robo-Cop's Peter Weller. Eve's presence is not unwelcome, but her character seems a little under-explored, and one superfluous scene of her stripped to her underwear is disappointingly retrograde. However, it is Cumberbatch's Harrison who is the most significant edition to the cast, and early descriptions of the character being "not entirely what he seems" have unsurprisingly had fans speculating as to whether he might have greater significance in Star Trek folklore, but he is menacing, enigmatic and oddly seductive.

The pacing is fast, the dialogue is snappy, and the lens flare is back with a vengeance, but there is an undeniable sag in the plot-heavy second act in which I felt something not dissimilar to boredom. However, Abrams ends with bravado in a dénouement that will have Trek fans squealing with delight. Michael Giacchino's pomp-filled score perfectly punctuates some breathtaking action as Quinto pursues Cumberbatch through the streets of San Francisco, ticking every blockbuster box along the way. It's a highly satisfying end to a flawed sequel, and if Abram's calls it quits at this juncture, his successor will inherit a very healthy, reinvigorated franchise with endless possibilities.

Star Trek Into Darkness suffers from a few of the maladies of 'sequel syndrome', lacking the heart, focus and drive of the 2009 original, but there is so much unadulterated fun to be had along the way (especially for fans of the franchise), you will probably be more than forgiving.

★★★★☆

Film Review: Iron Man 3

2013-04-24T15:43:49-04:00

Marvel have kicked off 'Phase 2' in fine style with Robert Downey Jr.'s fourth outing as self-styled billionaire/playboy/philanthropist, Tony Stark. With Shane Black taking the reins from Jon Favreau, the promotional campaign for Iron Man 3 has successfully wrong-footed its audience with its bleak, Nolanesque trailers, only to deliver a film that is closer to tone to the buddy-movie quipping of Black's Lethal Weapon than the Dark Knight trilogy. Potential spoilers prevent a detailed synopsis, but Iron Man 3 rejoins Tony Stark after the events of The Avengers, where he is psychologically dogged by the traumatic experience of New York and is suffering from insomnia as a result. When America comes under attack from an enigmatic terrorist known only as The Mandarin (Ben Kingsley), Tony goes on the hunt for revenge. Things are complicated by the re-emergence of Aldrich Killian, a scientist, once snubbed by Stark, who is on the verge of discovering a potentially dangerous new technology.

Shane Black was directly responsible for Downey's remarkable renaissance after a much-publicised battle with drugs, when he cast him in 2005's Kiss Kiss Bang Bang as the sardonic, wise-cracking Harry Lockhart; a part that eventually became a blue print for his portrayal of Tony Stark. Black plays to Downey's comic strengths again this time around, and Iron Man 3 is unquestionably the funniest of the Marvel films so far. Stark has always been the best on-screen company in the Marvel universe, and Downey's chemistry with Gwyneth Paltrow's always excellent "Pepper" Potts is as much of a joy to watch as it was the first time round. Don Cheadle seems to enjoy a slightly more significant role as the Iron Patriot, but it is Ben Kingsley's Mandarin that steels the show with one of the most brilliantly subversive super-villains we've seen on celluloid. Sadly, it's the other newcomers who fail to impress. Rebecca Hall's character is woefully underwritten, and Guy Pearce does his best with a contrived and over-familiar character (Incredibles, anyone?) that, despite having a more prominent part to play than we'd anticipated, never really feels fully developed. The introduction of Advanced Idea Mechanics, or A.I.M. seems rushed and confused, getting a little lost in the high-octane pacing and pyrotechnics. For such a huge development in the franchise, it essentially feels like a sub-plot.

The set pieces are unsurprisingly lavish and dazzling (although the 3D is extraneous), but there is a sense that the third act is straining to supersede the cacophonous dénouement of The Avengers (a task it ultimately fails). Much effort has been made to strip Stark of his iron suit for as long as possible, so much so that he begins to have panic attacks when outside of his armoured shell. These scenes in particular are where Downey's talents are best exploited and we are able to get under the skin of the character for the first time since Favreau's original, but Iron Man 3 is never in danger of taking itself too seriously and proves that the Christopher Nolan formula is not the only road to go down. The final third may descend into a CGI circus, and the final twist may be one red herring too far, but it's nice to know that mainstream, blockbuster cinema still has the ability to surprise.

While it has its problems, Black's Iron Man 3 is smart, funny and consistently entertaining, and serves as a reminder of just how fun blockbuster cinema can be when in the right hands.

★★★★☆

Film Review: Oblivion

2013-04-12T06:04:21-04:00

"We won the war, but we lost our home", laments Tom Cruise's Jack Harper in Oblivion's textbook opening voiceover, with an amalgam of ennui, self-parody and faux-sincerity. It is a pretty good indicator of what is to come over the next 126 minutes from Tron: Legacy director Joseph Kosinski's by-the-numbers apoca-bore; even the name Jack Harper is indicative of the lack of creative effort that has gone into Oblivion. Set in 2077, 60 years after Earth is devastated by an alien invasion, the film follows Jack Harper, a handy man who solitarily roams the now desolate planet maintaining and fixing the drones that are keeping the aliens at bay while Earth's remaining resources are extracted for use on the new human colony on Titan. Harper lives an uneventful existence with his wife, Victoria (Andrea Riseborough), living in a giant iPod and counting the days until they can join the rest of the human race. Things get complicated, however, when Harper begins to have visions of a mysterious woman (Olga Kurylenko) in pre-war New York, and when said woman literally falls out of the sky and claims to be his wife, Jack begins to question what he knows about his mission, and indeed, himself.

It is unsurprising that Kosinski's focus lies mainly with the aesthetic, creating a world that is impressively realised without being immersive. The design of the film is a familiar one, with partially submerged American landmarks, ominous skies and the sleek white interiors that are mandatory in any sci-fi blockbuster. However, there is an aberrant beauty in the bleakness of the snow-capped hills that Harper surveys while doing his rounds, and the decision not to present the film in 3D gives it a sense of scale that was lost in last year's Prometheus. But as well rendered as this backdrop may be, it ultimately feels like window dressing that's trying to distract us from the fact that what's happening to our central character is so flaccid and dull.

Kosinski claims that Oblivion is a love letter to the science fictions films of the 1970's, which is true insofar as he selectively 'borrows' ideas, plot lines and twists from everything from Planet of the Apes to Wall-E and ham-fistedly scrunches them into a ball of plagiarism, passing it off as homage. Oblivion is completely devoid of original ideas, and it's hard to recall a film that is quite so unashamedly derivative, with every plot development and line of dialogue ringing with familiarity. At a time in which a $130 million dollar sci-fi film that isn't part of a franchise is something to celebrate, the staggering cynicism shown in studio's belief that an A-lister and expensive visuals are enough satiate the needs of the multiplex audience is profoundly depressing.

Despite a talented cast, the drama is flat and mechanical. Even the usually reliable Cruise can't transcend the stodginess of William Monahan's script and he finally looks as if the once arduous task of saving the world has become a bothersome, formulaic affair. Olga Kurylenko does a passable job in the early flashback scenes, but problems arise when she is required to act and speak. She spends most of the film wondering around like a lost child and seems surprisingly unimpressed by the whole event. Melissa Leo's unsettling southern drawl immediately indicates foul play, and Freeman and Risebourough are wasted in their roles.

Oblivion is an insultingly cynical, derivative and lazy clot of a film with clear aspirations for mediocrity; a meritless exercise in propheteering with a genuine contempt for its audience.

★☆☆☆☆

Film Review: Dark Skies

2013-04-02T09:23:05-04:00

Dark Skies is the latest in a rather long line of bland horror flicks from the producers of Insidious and the prolific Paranormal Activity series. Dark Skies shares similar DNA with its predecessors, but this time around it has been given an extra-terrestrial, conspiracy-theory twist by writer/director Scott Stewart, whose previous work includes Paul Bettany collaborations Legion and Priest. Dark Skies follows the Barrets: a middle-class, middle-income, suburban family whose peaceful domestic life is unsettled by a succession of troubling events. As these other worldly occurrences become more disturbing, the family begin to suspect that the terrifying forces hounding them might not be of this world.

Despite being dressed up as a sci-fi horror flick, Dark Skies never deviates from the inexplicably successful formula of the Paranormal Activity series, so much so that there is a sequence in which terrified patriarch, Daniel, sets up a security surveillance system in the house in an attempt to monitor the, well, paranormal activity. The mostly-unknown cast deliver passable performances and do their best with a generic script, but any sense of dread feels synthesized and the film solely relies on shocks and jumps to scare its audience. Spinder-Man's J. K. Simmons does his best to keep a straight face as conspiracy theorist Edwin Pollard, but it is not apparent whose story Stewart is trying to tell, and as a result he gives us little time to get to know any of the central family. The integrity of the plot disintegrates on further inspection, as it's hard to understand why an advanced alien race would allow the family to put up a fight when we've already established that they can control their bodies via implants.

The chief problem with Dark Skies is its unfading sense of familiarity and despite a few red herrings, horror fans will have little trouble joining the dots from the off. The film is littered with genre clichés, and the obligatory twist is immediately foreseeable from the glaring contrivances in the plot. Dark Skies ultimately feels like an extended episode of The X-Files, and one of the weaker ones, at that. There is an attempt to explore the power of the family bond in the face of evil, but you'd have to posses Christ-like powers of compassion to remotely care about the intolerably boring Barrets.

Dark Skies is unfocused, bland and generic with no scares and few memorable moments, but the fact that it's above average for today's mainstream US horror flicks is perhaps the saddest indictment of the state of the genre.

★★☆☆☆

Film Review: Trance

2013-03-28T08:17:56-04:00

Danny Boyle's first film since silencing the skeptics at last summer's unforgettable Olympic opening ceremony arrives in the form of low-key London-based noir, Trance. This mind-bending, psychological-thriller is a far cry from sky-diving monarchs and jitterbugging nurses, but Boyle hasn't completly reined in his penchant for spectacle. James McAvoy stars as junior art auctioneer, Simon, whose botched attempt to double-cross a gang of violent criminals during the heist of a Goya painting leaves him with a nasty blow on the head. When Simon awakes, he has no memory of the robbery, and the gang's pragmatic leader (Vincent Cassel) turns to a Harley Street hypnotherapist (Rosario Dawson) in order to recover the lost painting. However, when the hypnosis begins, boundaries between desire, reality and hypnotic suggestion begin to blur and the stakes rise faster than any of them could have anticipated.

Boyle directs with his usual flair and confidence, and Trance moves at an implacable pace. Set in an almost hyper-real London that oozes sexiness and style, it can at times feel like being stuck in a lava lamp, but the glamour of this lavishly chic urban environment adds to the sense of threat as Simon wades further out of his depth. Our central trio deliver solid performances, with Cassel as imposing as ever as the volatile Frank, but the narrative twists around so frantically that we barely have time to get to know any of our characters. Boyle is obviously having tremendous fun in toying with his audience, and the freewheeling unfolding of the plot is initially exhilarating, but when the story moves from being two steps ahead, to four or five, the final act of the movie feels like we are playing catch-up. There are multiple comparisons to be made with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but where the pay-off in Gondry's masterpiece was emotionally satisfying, the revelations in Trance's dénouement ultimately feel rushed and hollow. At its best, the film reminds us of the jet-black humour and sexually strained relationships in Boyle's brilliantly twisted debut, Shallow Grave, but it also exudes the same over-excitement and indulgence of the director's weakest effort, The Beach. The film may benefit from multiple viewings, but there are the contrivances in the plot that will require an Olympic-sized leap of faith.

Despite some stunning visuals and a deliciously head-scrambling set-up, Boyle's stylish neo-noir gets carried away in its attempts to bamboozle its audience and it is ultimately hoisted by its own petard.

★★★☆☆

Film Review: In The House

2013-03-26T12:25:56-04:00

French auteur, François Ozon's follow up to 2011's Potiche arrives in the form of another stage adaption: Juan Mayorga's The Boy in the Last Row. In The House, which picked up the top award at last year's San Sebastian Film Festival, is a jet black, yet oddly playful comedy about a gifted teenage writer named Claude (Ernst Umhauer), who is taken under the wing of his bored French teacher, M. Germain (Fabrice Luchini). Reinvigorated by the prospect of nurturing the boy's talent, Germain sets his pupil a series of assignments, and Claude begins to write about how he has insinuated himself into the home of a fellow student in order to get closer to his attractive, ennui-filled mother. As the voyeuristic Claude's stories become more sinister, the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur until Germain, and the viewer become complicit in the unfolding of the narrative.

Through Claude, Orzon explores the power that the author has over his audience, and the ease with which they can be manipulated. The direction is restrained and unfussy, yet Orzon remains in complete control throughout, masterfully wrong-footing his audience as Claude's narrative begins to melt into his own. The performances are all excellent, most notably Umhauer, whose devious smirk and piercing blue eyes conjure the perfect cocktail of allure and mischief. The film is rich with literary references, with Flaubert's Madame Bovary most explicitly alluded to. The school Claude attends is even named after the writer, and there are nods to many other cultural figures from Paul Klee and Woody Alan to Barbara Cartland. But, In The House never seems overbearingly academic or indulgent, nor is the labyrinth of possible interpretations problematic. Ozon is posing questions to his audience as opposed to answering them, but for something so open ended, the outcome is tremendously satisfying.

In This House is a highly intelligent, witty meditation on the art of storytelling and manipulation. Armed with a great cast and a sharp script, Ozon confidently toys with his audience by bending the rules whilst managing to avoid alienation or pretention. Formidable.

★★★★★

Film Review: A Late Quartet

2013-03-26T06:51:06-04:00

Yaron Zilberman's debut feature, A Late Quartet is a delicately handled and brilliantly-observed relationship drama about the internal dynamics of a world renowned string quartet. When the group's 'cellist, Peter (Chistopher Walken) is diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, he reluctantly informs the group that their next performance will be his last. However, the departure of their leader throws the quartet's future into the balance as the group's suppressed emotions, competing egos and resentment threaten to derail years of friendship and collaboration.

Every relationship in A Late Quartet is a victim of enforced intimacy, whether it's between parents and their children, married couples, or the members of the string quartet. Our protagonists are inescapably bound to each other through their domestic lives, work and reputation, and when the bitterness and resentment that builds throughout the film reaches its crescendo, everything is put at risk. The performances are all superb, particularly Christopher Walken's heartbreaking turn as the avuncular Peter. Philip Seymour-Hoffman is on top form as embittered, downtrodden second violinist, Robert, and his relationship with his violist wife, Juliette (Catherine Keener) is utterly convincing. Mark Ivanir completes the quartet is emotionally repressed perfectionist, Daniel, and perfectly captures the character's personal and sexual frustration. British rising star, Imogen Poots also impresses as the neglected daughter who further risks the stability of the quartet with a surprisingly underhand cry for attention.

The real star of the show, however, is Beethoven's exquisite op. 131; a late masterpiece and the greatest of the composer's strong quartets. Zilberman is obviously passionate about the music, and treats it with the same respect as our four leads. Filming actors attempting to convincingly replicate such virtuosic string playing is an impossible task, but a tremendous amount of effort has been put it to make the performances seem as genuine as possible. There is a refreshingly undiluted attitude towards the way in which music is portrayed and discussed in A Late Quartet; technical musical terms and informed conversation are not omitted to avoid alienating the audience, and it adds a level of richness and authenticity to the characters. Zilberman has produced a very believable human drama, and the claustrophobic dynamic of a string quartet is an inspired way to explore way in which relationships are strained and tested under intense pressure.

A Late Quartet is a measured and uncompromising relationship drama with four terrific performances; an intelligent and well-crafted debut from Yaron Zilberman.

★★★★★

A Late Quartet is released in cinemas and On Demand 5 April 5th April.

The film is a simultaneous release with Sky Store and Curzon Home Cinema - visit www.alatequartet.co.uk for more information.

Film Review: 21 & Over

2013-03-26T06:45:50-04:00

21 & Over is the directorial debut from The Hangover writers, Jon Lucas and Scott Moore, and they make surprisingly little effort to distance their new film from the 2009 super-hit. The film starts with our two heroes, Miller and Casey (Miles Teller and Skylar Astin), strolling through a collage campus at dawn, butt-naked save a couple of Red Hot Chilli Peppers-esque cock socks, their buttocks bruised and branded. We are then told, in flashback, of the events of the wild night that lead to this humiliating point, and how their friendship has been tested and they've learned to become better people. Sound familiar?

Instead of a bachelor party, the reason for the festivities in 21 & Over is the birthday of the pair's old high school friend, Jeff Chang (Justin Chong), a straight-A's Chinese-American medical student with high expectations and an over-bearing father (Lost's Françoise Chau). Unfortunately for JeffChang [sic], his 21^st birthday is also the eve of a career-defining job interview, and what was supposed to be a quick drink in the local bar soon escalates into a night-long odyssey of boozing, vomiting, and every other kind of debauchery associated with the mythologised view of the American tertiary education system. When Jeff Chang eventually passes out, Miller and Casey must find away to get him home in time for his interview without alerting his stern father to their antics.

The plot is familiar, and the writer's intentions are clear: produce a Hangover/Super Bad hybrid with a pinch of Animal House thrown in for good measure. The overriding problem with this, despite its obvious lack of imagination, is that while Astin is a serviceable straight-man, Teller has nothing like the magnetism or charm of Galifianakis, Hill or Belushi. Whilst some of the 'gross-out humour' delivers more than the intolerably tepid The Change Up, jokes are sacrificed in place of heavily choreographed vomiting set-pieces and formulaic, frat house shenanigans. The unsettling undercurrent of casual racism from The Hangover films is also present, but it will be more likely to induce pity towards the writers than outrage. Lucas and Moore are desperately trying to be outrageous, but the only offensive thing about 21 & Over is that it is boring, unoriginal and simply not very funny.

A thinly-veiled Hangover rehash with fewer jokes and fewer interesting characters, 21 & Over aims for outrageous campus comedy, but finds itself enrolled in the remedial class.

★★☆☆☆

21 & Over is released in the UK 29 March.

Film Review: Stolen

2013-03-20T13:37:13-04:00

British action veteran Simon West and Nic Cage have teamed up for the first time since their 1997 monster hit, Con Air, for Stolen: a unashamed B-movie that willfully draws comparisons with Luc Besson's inexplicably successful Taken films. The film follows notorious bank robber, Will "Gum" Montgomery (Nicolas Cage), who after being cornered with $10,000,000 from a botched heist, burns the money in the hope of receiving a reduced prison sentence. Unfortunately for "Gum", when he is released 8 years later with the intention of going straight and patching up his relationship with his estranged daughter, Alison (Sami Gayle), his past very quickly comes back to haunt him as his embittered former partner, Vincent (Josh Lucas) returns, hungry for his share of the money. Vincent, posing as a New Orleans cab driver, kidnaps young Alison and Gum, unable to go to the police, must frantically search the city for his daughter before it's too late.

So far, so derivative, but there is one unavoidable gaping chasm in a plot that is has more holes than Donald Trump's golf course. The narrative rests on the fact that the FBI completely ignore the reporting of the kidnapping of a teenage girl, because the man drawing it to their attention has a criminal record; a contrivance that is so cartoonish and entirely implausible that it dilutes any sense of real threat. The script and direction are riddled with genre clichés, predictable misdirection and hammy techno-dialogue such as "The blouse is off, I'm undoing the bra strap now". But for all it's faults, there is something strangely engaging about the lightning-fast pacing, Nic Cage's histrionics, and the unadulterated bizarreness of Stolen. Scenes in which Cage speaks Swedish to avoid eavesdroppers, Josh Lucas stomps around his 'bad-guy den' and token blonde, Malin Akerman bamboozles the cops with cigarette smoking dummy in the passenger seat, all serve to remind us that, above all, B-movies are supposed to be fun.

There are a wealth of problems with Stolen; whether it's the grainy aesthetic that screams "straight to DVD', the dated soundtrack that sounds like a 1990's video game, the terrible script, or Josh Lucas' spectacularly over-the-top acting, but there is something in its stubbornness to elevate itself beyond its pulp framework that is admirable. Stolen lies firmly in the guilty pleasure category, and will definitely be more at home on the small screen with a few frosty ones.

Although it's not the greatest accolade, the heavily flawed Stolen is the best of both West and Cage's recent output. It's an unashamedly generic B-movie with enough pulpy dialogue, histrionics and machismo to make it good company for 90 minutes on a Friday night in, but most importantly, it has a sense of fun.

★★☆☆☆

Film Review: Snoop Lion's Reincarnated

2013-03-13T06:48:52-04:00

Veteran rapper and self-styled P.I.M.P., Snoop Dogg, has teamed up with hipster magazine Vice to document his transition from weed-smoking hip-hop artist, to weed-smoking Reggae artist, to produce a companion piece to his upcoming record. Directed by Vice editor, Andy Capper, Reincarnated follows Snoop as he leaves his LA roots behind and travels to Jamaica to immerse himself in Rastafarian culture, changing his name to Snoop Lion in the process. However, it becomes clear very quickly that Snoop's interpretation of Rastafarian culture is sticking on Bob Marley's greatest hits and smoking lots and lots of drugs. In fact, the first hour of this tediously self-infatuated documentary consists almost exclusively of American millionaires swaggering around Jamaica smoking an astonishing amount of weed and saying "yeah, mun" every five seconds with all the authenticity and respect for their surroundings of an obnoxious public schoolboy on his gap year.

The middle section of the film then veers into a retrospective of the 41-year-old rapper's career, through his impoverished upbringing in Long Island, to the gang wars of the 1990's and his involvement with the Nation of Islam. This is also the section in which Snoop, real name Calvin Broadus, takes the opportunity to back-peddle over his life as a pimp, claiming that he now understands that is was disrespectful to his wife and daughters, and that it is out of step with his newly-adopted Rastafarian believes. He seems less apologetic about the fact that he made millions of dollars out of glamourising the profession.

Much of the footage takes place in the studio, where Snoop is working with US producer Diplo on his new reggae record, with the help of some of the island's biggest artists. Most of these musicians seem more than happy to comply, with only Bunny Wailer raising concerns about Snoop's commitment to the Rastafari movement. However, Bunny is eventually convinced that Snoop's intentions are good and helps out with the record. He has subsequently threatened Snoop with a lawsuit, accusing Snoop of adopting his Snoop Lion persona to sell records and "fraudulently using the Rastafari Community's personalities and symbolism".

There are some interesting moments in Reincarnated, most notably seeing the outrage of the poverty-stricken population of Tivoli Gardens at the extradition of local drug lord, Christopher 'Dudus' Coke. A documentary about this would have been far more interesting, but it is quickly skimmed over and attention soon returned to the film's protagonist. Structurally, the film doesn't work and although it is smoothly edited, it is overlong and unfocussed. Fans of the rapper may find enough to enjoy, but it is neither an entertaining journey, nor an interesting travelogue and could easily have worked just as well on Snoop's official YouTube page.

Reincarnated is essentially nothing but a vanity project. Snoop makes the clumsy transition into Rastafarian culture with both good intentions and a staggering lack of self-awareness, and ultimately comes across as a fraud.

★★☆☆☆

Film Review: The Spirit of '45

2013-03-12T07:11:50-04:00

Ken Loach is not a director who has kept his political cards close to his chest, but his latest film, The Spirit of '45 is his most direct advocacy of Socialism yet. Told with a mixture of period footage and monochrome talking heads, the film depicts the political landscape of post-Second World War Britain, and how the newly-elected Labour government utilised the country's sense of post-war unity to establish a welfare state, a National Health Service and put an end to the poverty of the 1930's. It is a fascinating snapshot of a period of British history that is often over-looked and the national mood is brilliantly captured in its use of interviews and advertisements of the time. It is no surprise that Loach has made this film in 2013 when the NHS is more at risk than ever before and welfare is being continuingly cut, but there is nothing in his film that directly compares the ideals of the Tory party of the 1970's and 80's to the Tory party of today.

There is very little in the way of balance in The Spirit of '45, with most interviews coming from miners, dockers, doctors and Tony Benn (whose presence is mandatory in any film about Socialism, and for good reason), and right-wing viewers will undoubtedly dismiss it as Socialist propaganda, but it is makes an overwhelming case for a socially responsible government, and backs it up with solid evidence that proves that it is possible to create a society that thinks beyond the individual. However, the film makes no suggestions as to how these ideals could be adopted in today's Britain: a place that would be almost unrecognisable to most of the key figures involved in this particular movement. It may come across as a little idealistic, but The Spirit of '45 shows that, with determination, empathy and generosity, something positive can be created out of the rubble.

The Spirit of '45 may be one-sided, but it's an aspirational and depressing depiction of how a Britain united by adversity created a fairer, united society, only for it to be systematically destroyed by greed and individualism. It's just a shame that it will most likely not been seen by those who need to see it most.

★★★★☆

Film Review: Robot & Frank

2013-03-05T09:09:14-05:00

Set in the near future, Jake Schreier's Robot & Frank is a quiet, low-budget sci-fi flick about the friendship between an ageing jewell thief and his Robotic assistant. At first glance this could look like your typically quaint, Sundance-friendly indie-comedy with a high concept and a hollow centre, but Schreier's feature debut is thematically rich, tender and, at times, profound. The film tells the story of an ageing ex-con called Frank, whose son gives him a robot to help around the house as his health begins to deteriorate. However, Frank isn't quite ready for retirement, and uses his new robotic friend to pull of one final heist.

Whilst Robot & Frank doesn't have anything like the gravitas or naked frankness of its Oscar-winning festival partner Amour, it manages to explore the difficult subjects of ageing and cognitive corrosion whilst maintaining its warmth and charm. Much of this is down to Frank Langella, whose exquisitely judged performance displays all the qualities of an actor who has truly mastered his trade. The balance between Frank's patriarchal assertiveness, wily intuitiveness, and his inevitable fragility are perfectly captured.

Schreier has assembled a great supporting cast, including Susan Sarandon, Liv Tyler and James Marsden, but the show is frequently stolen by Jeremy Strong, as the obnoxious yuppie, Jake, who makes for a enjoyably detestable antagonist. Robot is voiced brilliantly by Peter Sarsgaard, who succeeds in finding a midpoint between the mechanical and the humane. Like many cybernetic voiceovers, Robot's speech owes a lot of 2001's Hal, but the performance is more notably similar to Kevin Spacey's GERTY in Duncan Jones' Moon. Part of the credit for Robot's affability must also go to screenwriter, Christopher D. Ford.

The script it tight and funny, deriving much humour from conventional sci-fi staples, and Robot's dialogue is personable enough for one to feasibly befriend him; he speaks with an automated efficiency, but words like 'affirmative' are substituted for a simple, yet whimsy 'Yes, Frank'.

Robot & Frank is spritely and well-paced, and although the themes are a little on-the-nose and the final twist seems a little strained, its loveable anti-hero and wealth of interesting ideas make it great company for 90 minutes.

A charming, funny and often moving contemplation on old age and memory with a terrific central performance; this is the kind of modest, intelligent story-telling that is often overlooked, but Robot & Frank is a surprisingly precious gem.

★★★★★

Robot & Frank is released in the UK 8th March

Film Review: Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters

2013-02-14T11:14:11-05:00

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters is the latest is a seemingly never-ending line of fairy tale rehashes for the Twilight generation. The story takes place a decade or so after the Grimm's fairy tale, and Hansel and Gretel (Jeremy Renner and Gemma Arterton) have recovered from their traumatic experience in the ginger-bread house to become professional witch hunters. They now spend their time travelling the world, making a decent living from keeping the witch population down until, the fabled 'Blood Moon' approaches and the siblings are faced with a new evil which might just hold a secret from their past.

Little effort has been made to establish the period, or even where characters are from; the aesthetic is set to 'generic European peasant' mode, and Arterton affects an American accent in keeping with all the other 'German' villagers. There is a steam punk sensibility similar to Paul W. S. Anderson's recent Three Musketeers reimagining, and the weapons in our central couple's arsenal include a pump action shot gun, and a clockwork defibrillator. If you're not yet convinced of the sheer stupidity of Hansel and Gretel, you will be by the time it is revealed that Hansel is... wait for it... diabetic.

Quite why Renner and Arterton agreed to participate in such a meritless monstrosity, only they could say, but the usually reliable leads are poor. It may not necessarily be their fault; both young actors are talented, but they are not magicians. There is no actor in the world who could polish this particular turd, but one does wonder what possessed them to agree to it. The crass script is made up of incoherent, sword and sorcery waffle, from-the-mould quips (e.g. "The only good witch is a dead witch") convoluted exposition and clunky plot points (e.g. "If you're gonna burn a witch, set her ass on fire.") The introduction of a friendly ogre called Edward, who bares an uncanny resemblance to Mickey Rourke circa Sin City, is the last of many straws.

Those looking for redeeming features in Hansel and Gretel will be sorely disappointed. Norwegian director Tony Wirkola's film is consistently dreadful; from its headache-inducing editing and hammy acting, to its humourless and cliché-riddled script. However, the worst thing about Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, is that is has no sense of fun. Previous genre mash-ups like last year's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, at least had their tongues firmly in their cheeks, subverting the corny dialogue and generic action scenes that Hansel and Gretel solely relies on. Every one of its 88 minutes feels like a chore and any laughs that may arise are wholly unintentional. These major flaws, coupled with the badly rendered CGI, sloppy character design and some of the murkiest 3D to date, result in the most unpleasant cinematic experience in recent memory.

In a word: Grimm.

★☆☆☆☆

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters is released in the UK 27th February