So, it finally arrived after months and months of teasers and trailers and still photos. To say I was looking forward to this film would be a serious understatement. Frankly, anything that throws together the stellar talents of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp has me wishing I could time-travel, just to get to the release date. A partnership that worked so well on the likes of Edward Scissorhands, Sleepy Hollow, and Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, to name but three, consistently produces the kind of cinematic fayre that always hits the spots lesser films never get near. It was no different with Sweeney Todd.
For the slightly less clued-up (and I continue to be surprised by the number of people that fall into that category), Sweeney Todd is based on the 1979 Stephen Sondheim musical, charting the bloody exploits of a London barber, Benjamin Barker, who has had his respectable and happy life taken away from him by the evil Judge Turpin, played here by the ever dependable Alan Rickman. Upon his return to London, Barker is now Sweeney Todd, a man sworn to exact revenge.
It's important that people should really be aware of the film's roots as a musical, as I was both surprised and amused by the number of people walking out of the film after about twenty minutes. Obviously, they were unaware that the film was based on a musical and, having seen the trailers were clearly expecting a bloodfest 'bloke movie'. Although far from being one for the die-hard West End musical connoisseur, the dialogue is at least seventy-five percent sung. Clearly, there were plenty of people who took their seats alongside me last night who were blissfully unaware of what they were about to watch. I've never seen so many guys in hoodies walk out of a cinema and I have to admit, it made me chuckle.
Anyway, more about the film. I can't think of the last time I saw Johnny Depp make a bad film, although admittedly public opinion was split on Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Love or hate that film, Depp's performance was of his usual high standard and he's gone up a gear here by adding singing to his list of talents. Not one for playing everyday characters, his on-screen partnership with Helena Bonham-Carter's Mrs Lovett is superbly played out. Bonham-Carter clearly revelled in the role of a slightly deranged woman, something she moved into easily after her previous role playing Bellatrix Lestrange in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in 2007. Depp and Bonham-Carter are more than ably supported by the likes of Alan Rickman and Timothy Spall (continuing the Harry Potter connection) and an impressive Sacha Baron Cohen.
The look of the film is consistent with Burton's previous work in the likes of Sleepy Hollow and Batman in it's dark and imposing settings, resulting in a sinister and atmospheric nineteenth century London that becomes as much a character in the film as Todd himself. Burton has a real eye for creating iconic moments in his films and there are plenty to chose from here. Whether it's the moment when Todd declares that 'my arm is complete again' while holding his spotless cut-throat blade in his outstretched hand or the scene when he rushes into the streets and dramatically announces his intentions to the citizens of London as they pass him by, these are undoubtedly moments that stay in the memory long after the credits have rolled.
One of the problems with bringing a musical to the screen is keeping an audience not typically used to musicals engaged during the singing. Of course, in live theatre, the actors are right there before you and the orchestra is even closer. While the softer songs are supported by Burton's direction, the more dramatic and complex numbers are superbly performed and the music, composed by Sondheim himself, compliments what is occuring on screen perfectly. With my only foray into the world of musicals being a trip to see The Producers at the theatre, I found myself really enjoying most of the songs in the film, my ears no doubt influenced by what my eyes were also taking in.
Friends who had seen this before me were telling me not to bother, that it was a let down and that they wished they'd known it was a musical. I'm one for making up my own mind, though, and there was no way I was going to miss this. Admittedly, it was going to have be pretty terrible for me not to like it. But it doesn't even come close to that. Aswell as my friends' 'reviews', I've heard some disparaging reports on the film in the press but I really think they do it a disservice. When you take the film as a whole, I really think it has been a huge success. The direction, the fantastic performances, Sondheim's brilliantly written songs and score - these all come together so well, resulting in a musical film that, for those prepared for it, is a real treat and a welcome distraction from the dirge of prequels, sequels and comic-book action films currently flooding the market.
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
Book - London Irish, Zane Radcliffe
Boy seeks girl; boy meets girl; boy gets mixed up in IRA bombing in London orchestrated by girl’s slightly unhinged brothers. An interesting concept, if you can pull it off. However, Zane Radcliffe’s first novel is one that tries, with limited success, to be all things to all men.
On the cover of the book, Colin Bateman declares, ‘I laughed until I stopped’, which immediately puts me on my guard. I have always been sceptical when someone tells me a book made them laugh. I can count the numbers that have had the same effect on me on one finger. London Irish, sadly, did not see me uncurling another digit.
One of the reasons for this is because the book is part thriller, part love story and part comedy. Any one of these aspects could have been left out, preferably the clichéd love story, where the Gaelic charm and extrovert behaviour of the Irishman soon sees him winning the girl over. The basic premise, at least at the beginning, is credible enough as we are taken in by the main character, Bic. We follow his efforts to find a nice Irish girl to take back to Ireland and settle down with, albeit on an ostrich farm.
In keeping with numerous writers of Irish descent, humour is never far from the surface here, be it dry, dark or plain farcical. But it struggles to find its place amongst the other two perspectives. Radcliffe could learn from the McCourt brothers or Roddy Doyle when it comes to maintaining a consistent level of humour in his work.
However, the main problem with this book is its predictability. It’s not long before the story becomes transparent with Radcliffe planting seeds in the text so blatant, the words ‘PAY ATTENTION – STUFF HAPPENS HERE’ at the beginning of a chapter would have been more subtle. The ‘inadvertent’ comments Bic makes, which are ultimately the source of his problems, are so obvious they border on insulting. All the leads are firmly established in the first half and come together too neatly, one after the other, as the story reaches its climax. It’s as if Radcliffe was ticking them off as he went. The hackneyed ‘boy gets girl’ aspect is clumsily handled and a little rushed towards the end.
Overall the book is a passable debut which initially draws the reader in intriguingly. But the situations become contrived and the writing a little clichéd later in the book. I did find myself wondering how much better it could have been if Radcliffe hadn’t reverted to doing it by the numbers.
On the cover of the book, Colin Bateman declares, ‘I laughed until I stopped’, which immediately puts me on my guard. I have always been sceptical when someone tells me a book made them laugh. I can count the numbers that have had the same effect on me on one finger. London Irish, sadly, did not see me uncurling another digit.
One of the reasons for this is because the book is part thriller, part love story and part comedy. Any one of these aspects could have been left out, preferably the clichéd love story, where the Gaelic charm and extrovert behaviour of the Irishman soon sees him winning the girl over. The basic premise, at least at the beginning, is credible enough as we are taken in by the main character, Bic. We follow his efforts to find a nice Irish girl to take back to Ireland and settle down with, albeit on an ostrich farm.
In keeping with numerous writers of Irish descent, humour is never far from the surface here, be it dry, dark or plain farcical. But it struggles to find its place amongst the other two perspectives. Radcliffe could learn from the McCourt brothers or Roddy Doyle when it comes to maintaining a consistent level of humour in his work.
However, the main problem with this book is its predictability. It’s not long before the story becomes transparent with Radcliffe planting seeds in the text so blatant, the words ‘PAY ATTENTION – STUFF HAPPENS HERE’ at the beginning of a chapter would have been more subtle. The ‘inadvertent’ comments Bic makes, which are ultimately the source of his problems, are so obvious they border on insulting. All the leads are firmly established in the first half and come together too neatly, one after the other, as the story reaches its climax. It’s as if Radcliffe was ticking them off as he went. The hackneyed ‘boy gets girl’ aspect is clumsily handled and a little rushed towards the end.
Overall the book is a passable debut which initially draws the reader in intriguingly. But the situations become contrived and the writing a little clichéd later in the book. I did find myself wondering how much better it could have been if Radcliffe hadn’t reverted to doing it by the numbers.
Book - Long Way Round, Ewan MacGregor & Charley Boorman
(Originally featured on the 'BBC Collective' website - 29 March 2006)
'The Long Way Round' was a book that passed me by when it was first published. I saw the trailers for the accompanying Sky programme on TV but again it didn't really appeal. Then I bought the DVD for my mum for Christmas and my Uni tutor lent me the book. Now I wish I'd latched onto both incarnations earlier. I decided to read the book first as it was related to my Final Year Project (i.e. travel writing). I was expecting a glossed-over depiction of a round-the-world journey. I couldn't have been more mistaken.
From the outset it is clear that both authors, McGregor in particular, have very personal reasons for undertaking the trip. It seems, even with all the trappings of fame and fortune, a childhood dream is a childhood dream and that's that.
It's very rare that I find a book 'unputdownable' but this came mighty close. It had all the potential to become a boring and sentimental account of how much the two actors missed their wives and blah blah blah. What we get is clearly two friends with a common goal who will seemingly go through hell to achieve it.
The highs and lows are dealt with with equal amounts of emotion and the characters they meet along the way, especially in Eastern Europe's mafia-ridden countries, are described so lucidly it's difficult not to become worried for the writers. A ridiculous thing to say, I know, but it's really that good. Their appreciation of the world around them as they motor east into Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia is obvious and they are never too busy to stop and take it all in. Even when their bikes are mired in bogs or in danger of being swept away in raging rivers, they never lose focus of their ultimate goal, to get to the end, to say they'd done it-they'd biked around the world. Despite all the wild animals, the ticks, the gun-toting natives, the bribe-seeking local police, there were those who balanced it all out. The native people who had almost nothing to offer the two strangers but invited them into their humble 'gers' and fed them and gave them shelter, nonetheless. Moments and people who burnt themselves into the authors' memories for obvious reasons.
The more personal aspects are dealt with honestly and surprisingly unguardedly given the people describing them. I can't think of many Hollywood stars who would have put themselves through the ordeal in the first place, let alone consign it to film and put it down in writing, warts and all. These two friends risk life and limb at points and argue daily about admittedly trivial things. But they come out of it with a friendship stronger than before, Boorman actually declaring McGregor 'the brother I never had' at the end of their trip.
As the book and the journey reach their climax, I, like McGregor, didn't want it to end. I knew exaclty how he felt though. All the emotions of ending a trip so personally significant can be so overwhelming it's hard to put them into words but both McGregor and Boorman do sterling jobs here. I can't wait to see if the TV programme matches up to the images they planted in my head.
I spent over a year on the other side of the world a few years ago and am itching to up sticks again in search of more challenging environments, as soon as uni is put to bed. This book did nothing to dissuade me. In fact I might just drop out now and hop on a plane...
'The Long Way Round' was a book that passed me by when it was first published. I saw the trailers for the accompanying Sky programme on TV but again it didn't really appeal. Then I bought the DVD for my mum for Christmas and my Uni tutor lent me the book. Now I wish I'd latched onto both incarnations earlier. I decided to read the book first as it was related to my Final Year Project (i.e. travel writing). I was expecting a glossed-over depiction of a round-the-world journey. I couldn't have been more mistaken.
From the outset it is clear that both authors, McGregor in particular, have very personal reasons for undertaking the trip. It seems, even with all the trappings of fame and fortune, a childhood dream is a childhood dream and that's that.
It's very rare that I find a book 'unputdownable' but this came mighty close. It had all the potential to become a boring and sentimental account of how much the two actors missed their wives and blah blah blah. What we get is clearly two friends with a common goal who will seemingly go through hell to achieve it.
The highs and lows are dealt with with equal amounts of emotion and the characters they meet along the way, especially in Eastern Europe's mafia-ridden countries, are described so lucidly it's difficult not to become worried for the writers. A ridiculous thing to say, I know, but it's really that good. Their appreciation of the world around them as they motor east into Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia is obvious and they are never too busy to stop and take it all in. Even when their bikes are mired in bogs or in danger of being swept away in raging rivers, they never lose focus of their ultimate goal, to get to the end, to say they'd done it-they'd biked around the world. Despite all the wild animals, the ticks, the gun-toting natives, the bribe-seeking local police, there were those who balanced it all out. The native people who had almost nothing to offer the two strangers but invited them into their humble 'gers' and fed them and gave them shelter, nonetheless. Moments and people who burnt themselves into the authors' memories for obvious reasons.
The more personal aspects are dealt with honestly and surprisingly unguardedly given the people describing them. I can't think of many Hollywood stars who would have put themselves through the ordeal in the first place, let alone consign it to film and put it down in writing, warts and all. These two friends risk life and limb at points and argue daily about admittedly trivial things. But they come out of it with a friendship stronger than before, Boorman actually declaring McGregor 'the brother I never had' at the end of their trip.
As the book and the journey reach their climax, I, like McGregor, didn't want it to end. I knew exaclty how he felt though. All the emotions of ending a trip so personally significant can be so overwhelming it's hard to put them into words but both McGregor and Boorman do sterling jobs here. I can't wait to see if the TV programme matches up to the images they planted in my head.
I spent over a year on the other side of the world a few years ago and am itching to up sticks again in search of more challenging environments, as soon as uni is put to bed. This book did nothing to dissuade me. In fact I might just drop out now and hop on a plane...
Book - Playing The Moldovans at Tennis, Tony Hawks
(Originally featured on the 'BBC Collective' website - 24 January 2007)
Until a week or so ago, I had avoided Tony Hawks' books. The reason for this was because I liked his humour when I saw him on television (a sort of hybrid of schoolboy toilet humour and educated wit) and I was sure that reading any of his books would just disappoint me. There are no books that have made me laugh out loud (well, maybe Frank Skinner...once) and I just couldn't face being let down on the same front by a man whom I found genuinely funny. So it was with not a little trepidation that I finally cracked open 'Playing the Moldovans at Tennis', which had been bought for me over 18 months ago. As with most things in my life, it seemed I had worried about nothing and hence deprived myself of a very good book.
The result of a bet taken up with fellow comic Arthur Smith, Hawks' trip to the depths of Eastern Europe in pursuit of 11 illusive Moldovan footballers is described with all the wit for which Hawks has become known on the small screen. From the scene of the original wager to the stomach-churning consequences on Balham High Road 18 months later, the 'adventure' is recounted in a 'no holds barred' way. Nothing is beyond description, be it the initial all round misery Hawks encounters in Moldova, a bout of 'tummy troubles', rubbing up wealthy local businessman the wrong way or just the frustratingly slow process of actually locating and securing his prospective opponents.
Hawks, while explaining the myriad difficulties in holding up his end of the wager doesn't become so blinkered in his pursuit that he is blind to his surroundings. Like all good travel writers, his observations and interaction with the local people come shining through all the amusing narration. There is a sense as the book progresses that Hawks warms to the coldest of countries (meterologically and socially) and as the stories of his quest spread, the people he encounters in Moldova finally begin to warm to him. This is a story not only of one man's determination to succeed in a 'frivolous' bet and to see the positives in almost everything but also to break down barriers of language and culture. Staying with a Moldovan family whose primary english speaker is an 11 year old girl was always going to be hard work but Hawks is soon taken in by them through, if nothing else, his personality and what must have been his infectious positive attitude which was in stark contrast to those of seemingly the entire population of the country he was visiting.
The book is written with a traveller's hand in that everywhere he goes there is an obvious appreciation for what he is seeing, if indeed there IS anything worth seeing! He manages to relate it back to his own situation and is humble enough to reflect that in the midst of all this abject poverty, misery and institutionalised corruption there is an englishman running around trying to fulfil the terms of a pub-generated bet. He never loses sight of the fact that he is lucky to be able to just hop on a plane to do such a thing, to go to a country where the average monthly wage would struggle to pay for a weeks groceries in England.
I found the book entertaining and, if not 'unputdownable' then addictive to say the least. It's very rare that I can sit and read a book for more than an hour without wanting to get up and do something else. I spent most of yesterday glued to this book and before I knew it, the last page surprised me and disappointed me at the same time. It's one of those rare things...a book that you just don't want to end.
Hawks comes out of the whole thing having met 11 footballers who between them speak about a dozen words of English but who would doubtless recognise 'Tony the Tennis' as soon as look at him. In a country where the struggle of getting through one day is rewarded only by the promise of the same the following day, making such an impression on the people is surely a feat in itself.I resolve never to deprive myself of Hawks' work from now on.
Until a week or so ago, I had avoided Tony Hawks' books. The reason for this was because I liked his humour when I saw him on television (a sort of hybrid of schoolboy toilet humour and educated wit) and I was sure that reading any of his books would just disappoint me. There are no books that have made me laugh out loud (well, maybe Frank Skinner...once) and I just couldn't face being let down on the same front by a man whom I found genuinely funny. So it was with not a little trepidation that I finally cracked open 'Playing the Moldovans at Tennis', which had been bought for me over 18 months ago. As with most things in my life, it seemed I had worried about nothing and hence deprived myself of a very good book.
The result of a bet taken up with fellow comic Arthur Smith, Hawks' trip to the depths of Eastern Europe in pursuit of 11 illusive Moldovan footballers is described with all the wit for which Hawks has become known on the small screen. From the scene of the original wager to the stomach-churning consequences on Balham High Road 18 months later, the 'adventure' is recounted in a 'no holds barred' way. Nothing is beyond description, be it the initial all round misery Hawks encounters in Moldova, a bout of 'tummy troubles', rubbing up wealthy local businessman the wrong way or just the frustratingly slow process of actually locating and securing his prospective opponents.
Hawks, while explaining the myriad difficulties in holding up his end of the wager doesn't become so blinkered in his pursuit that he is blind to his surroundings. Like all good travel writers, his observations and interaction with the local people come shining through all the amusing narration. There is a sense as the book progresses that Hawks warms to the coldest of countries (meterologically and socially) and as the stories of his quest spread, the people he encounters in Moldova finally begin to warm to him. This is a story not only of one man's determination to succeed in a 'frivolous' bet and to see the positives in almost everything but also to break down barriers of language and culture. Staying with a Moldovan family whose primary english speaker is an 11 year old girl was always going to be hard work but Hawks is soon taken in by them through, if nothing else, his personality and what must have been his infectious positive attitude which was in stark contrast to those of seemingly the entire population of the country he was visiting.
The book is written with a traveller's hand in that everywhere he goes there is an obvious appreciation for what he is seeing, if indeed there IS anything worth seeing! He manages to relate it back to his own situation and is humble enough to reflect that in the midst of all this abject poverty, misery and institutionalised corruption there is an englishman running around trying to fulfil the terms of a pub-generated bet. He never loses sight of the fact that he is lucky to be able to just hop on a plane to do such a thing, to go to a country where the average monthly wage would struggle to pay for a weeks groceries in England.
I found the book entertaining and, if not 'unputdownable' then addictive to say the least. It's very rare that I can sit and read a book for more than an hour without wanting to get up and do something else. I spent most of yesterday glued to this book and before I knew it, the last page surprised me and disappointed me at the same time. It's one of those rare things...a book that you just don't want to end.
Hawks comes out of the whole thing having met 11 footballers who between them speak about a dozen words of English but who would doubtless recognise 'Tony the Tennis' as soon as look at him. In a country where the struggle of getting through one day is rewarded only by the promise of the same the following day, making such an impression on the people is surely a feat in itself.I resolve never to deprive myself of Hawks' work from now on.
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
Film - Mr Brooks (2007, Dir. Bruce A Evans)
Now, Kevin Costner’s made some films that I’ve liked (Field of Dreams, Tin Cup, The Untouchables) and he’s made some ones that I didn’t like (The Bodyguard, The Guardian). Before the days of Waterworld and The Postman, Costner seemed to be able to give measured and absorbing performances. Then he started getting carried away after receiving a couple of good reviews (post Dances With Wolves). When I saw the trailer for this film, I thought I’d be in for a treat. It looked like he’d given up trying to massage his ego by starring in more and more expensive films, and had gone back to a simpler project. The result is something, I have to admit, I can’t make up my mind about.
The film tells the story of serial killer, Earl Brooks (Costner), also known as the ‘Thumbprint Killer’ on account of his leaving his victim’s thumb prints in their own blood clearly visible at the scene. When we pick up the story, Brooks hasn’t killed for two years and is struggling to stay on the straight and narrow. His fight against temptation isn’t helped by the voice in his head, personified by ‘Marshall’ (William Hurt), who is with Brooks wherever he goes, pushing him, sometimes quite persuasively, to kill again.
The thing is, Earl Brooks is also a renowned local businessman; a self-made man, with a beautiful wife, obvious wealth and a teenage daughter. It’s behind this veneer of respectability that ‘The Thumbprint Killer’ operates and it’s not long before ‘Marshall’ convinces him that a seemingly random young couple deserve to die. However, during the killing, Brooks is spotted by a young man who introduces himself only as ‘Mr Smith’ and they strike a bargain involving Brooks taking ‘Smith’ along on his next job. As the story develops, it becomes clear that this can’t go on and that Brooks is reaching some sort of breaking point. The catalyst for this is the fact that his daughter drops out of school, saying she is pregnant, although Brooks knows there is something more to it. With all this going on, your more unhinged serial killer might start making mistakes, but not Mr Brooks. He’s calm, calculating and a master of living two lives convincingly. Nothing is left to chance, everything is planned. These traits serve him well as the cop trailing him, Tracy Atwood (Demi Moore) gets closer and closer, while having to juggle her own job with her complicated personal life. By the end though, Brooks has manipulated events to the point where it looks like it’ll see him free from his demons for good.
The film takes an interesting viewpoint, portraying Brooks’ killing as an addiction, one he’s aware of and is trying to get under control. He goes to AA meetings, introducing himself simply as ‘an addict’, something ‘Marshall’ disapproves of. When he suspects his daughter’s return home is due to something more sinister than a pregnancy, he breaks down, convinced that she ‘has what he has’. Brooks’ struggle is evident from the beginning and is clearly something that has ruled him in the past. Costner’s performance, while not Oscar winning, is solid and credible, flicking between the cool, in-control characteristics of Earl Brooks and the increasingly perturbed persona of the killer.
Demi Moore’s performance is OK, nothing to get either excited about or offended by. That’s the way her performances seem to be going lately. That’s about all I can say about her, sadly.
The film as a whole is engaging, if unevenly paced. I found myself going through phases of liking and disliking it. The final 15-20 minutes or so, save it from falling onto the ‘dislike’ pile as the story reaches it’s climax, with a couple of nicely worked (if not slightly predictable) twists For one horrible moment, I thought the ending was going to be tied up in a neat Hollywood ‘nasty man gets justice’ way. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case entirely, although we’re left in no doubt about the price Brooks pays for his ‘addiction’
The film tells the story of serial killer, Earl Brooks (Costner), also known as the ‘Thumbprint Killer’ on account of his leaving his victim’s thumb prints in their own blood clearly visible at the scene. When we pick up the story, Brooks hasn’t killed for two years and is struggling to stay on the straight and narrow. His fight against temptation isn’t helped by the voice in his head, personified by ‘Marshall’ (William Hurt), who is with Brooks wherever he goes, pushing him, sometimes quite persuasively, to kill again.
The thing is, Earl Brooks is also a renowned local businessman; a self-made man, with a beautiful wife, obvious wealth and a teenage daughter. It’s behind this veneer of respectability that ‘The Thumbprint Killer’ operates and it’s not long before ‘Marshall’ convinces him that a seemingly random young couple deserve to die. However, during the killing, Brooks is spotted by a young man who introduces himself only as ‘Mr Smith’ and they strike a bargain involving Brooks taking ‘Smith’ along on his next job. As the story develops, it becomes clear that this can’t go on and that Brooks is reaching some sort of breaking point. The catalyst for this is the fact that his daughter drops out of school, saying she is pregnant, although Brooks knows there is something more to it. With all this going on, your more unhinged serial killer might start making mistakes, but not Mr Brooks. He’s calm, calculating and a master of living two lives convincingly. Nothing is left to chance, everything is planned. These traits serve him well as the cop trailing him, Tracy Atwood (Demi Moore) gets closer and closer, while having to juggle her own job with her complicated personal life. By the end though, Brooks has manipulated events to the point where it looks like it’ll see him free from his demons for good.
The film takes an interesting viewpoint, portraying Brooks’ killing as an addiction, one he’s aware of and is trying to get under control. He goes to AA meetings, introducing himself simply as ‘an addict’, something ‘Marshall’ disapproves of. When he suspects his daughter’s return home is due to something more sinister than a pregnancy, he breaks down, convinced that she ‘has what he has’. Brooks’ struggle is evident from the beginning and is clearly something that has ruled him in the past. Costner’s performance, while not Oscar winning, is solid and credible, flicking between the cool, in-control characteristics of Earl Brooks and the increasingly perturbed persona of the killer.
Demi Moore’s performance is OK, nothing to get either excited about or offended by. That’s the way her performances seem to be going lately. That’s about all I can say about her, sadly.
The film as a whole is engaging, if unevenly paced. I found myself going through phases of liking and disliking it. The final 15-20 minutes or so, save it from falling onto the ‘dislike’ pile as the story reaches it’s climax, with a couple of nicely worked (if not slightly predictable) twists For one horrible moment, I thought the ending was going to be tied up in a neat Hollywood ‘nasty man gets justice’ way. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case entirely, although we’re left in no doubt about the price Brooks pays for his ‘addiction’
Monday, 15 October 2007
Film - The Invasion (2007, Dir. Oliver Hirschbiegel)
I’ve never seen the original Invasion of The Body Snatchers film so have nothing with which to compare this film. Some might say that’s a good thing, as I find that if you have a memory of the original in your head, it sometimes hinders you making a proper judgment about the film you’re watching. I know the basic story – aliens (in one form or another) find their way onto Earth (in this instance, clinging to the body of a doomed space shuttle, crashing back to earth) and start taking over the bodies and minds of humans. That’s the very basic premise anyway. I’d heard good and bad things about the film but decided that I’d make up my own mind.
I’m a fan (of sorts) of Nicole Kidman’s work – OK, and her looks – and find her very watchable in pretty much everything she does. Here she plays Carol Bennell, a psychiatrist and mother to Oliver. When a patient of hers describes her husband as ‘not being her husband anymore’, it sparks Carol’s curiosity. She begins to notice other peoples’ strange behaviour and gradually the realisation dawns on her (and a few other ‘uninfected’ citizens) that something very bad is happening. Helped by her friend/boyfriend (I couldn’t quite get a handle on what their relationship was supposed to be) Ben, (played by Daniel Craig), Carol has to try to protect Oliver and find her way to safety. The thing is, she’s been infected by her ex-husband (Jeremy Northam) and, as the infection takes hold when the victim is asleep, she must stay awake at all costs. All the while, scientists are working to manufacture a cure for the ‘pandemic’.
The film starts well, throwing us into the story halfway through, as a panicking Carol searches for medication in a deserted grocery store, to keep her awake. Then we’re taken back to when it all started and the back-story is filled in efficiently. The performances are all good and solid but the script could have done with some fine-tuning. At points we’re buried in medical jargon while a minute later we’re virtually being spoon-fed the plot, just in case anyone got left behind. Kidman’s performance is of her usual high quality but Craig’s, while not being bad, is what some might term as ‘phoned in’. The intensity with which we saw him take on his first Bond film was conspicuous by its absence. Granted, the two characters are miles apart, but, as Carol’s only friend against all the ‘infected’, the character just needed more about him.
This film represented director, Oliver Hirschbiegel’s first foray into the Hollywood ‘big time’, having spent the previous twenty years or so working on German films and TV projects. Unfortunately, it showed. Although there was tension, there was just not enough of it. There was, of course, the underlying message that as humans, we fight and wage war against each other, but as emotionless souls we are forever at peace, having no reason to fight. So which state is best? The question, which (and admittedly, I’m guessing a little here) must have been a major point of the original, is touched upon in the film but never really addressed in any serious way.
As a way to pass an hour and a half, you could do worse. I really wanted this film to be good, given it’s two lead stars and the basic story, but I can’t help seeing it as an opportunity missed. It’s like your parents used to say when you upset them as a kid: ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’.
I’m a fan (of sorts) of Nicole Kidman’s work – OK, and her looks – and find her very watchable in pretty much everything she does. Here she plays Carol Bennell, a psychiatrist and mother to Oliver. When a patient of hers describes her husband as ‘not being her husband anymore’, it sparks Carol’s curiosity. She begins to notice other peoples’ strange behaviour and gradually the realisation dawns on her (and a few other ‘uninfected’ citizens) that something very bad is happening. Helped by her friend/boyfriend (I couldn’t quite get a handle on what their relationship was supposed to be) Ben, (played by Daniel Craig), Carol has to try to protect Oliver and find her way to safety. The thing is, she’s been infected by her ex-husband (Jeremy Northam) and, as the infection takes hold when the victim is asleep, she must stay awake at all costs. All the while, scientists are working to manufacture a cure for the ‘pandemic’.
The film starts well, throwing us into the story halfway through, as a panicking Carol searches for medication in a deserted grocery store, to keep her awake. Then we’re taken back to when it all started and the back-story is filled in efficiently. The performances are all good and solid but the script could have done with some fine-tuning. At points we’re buried in medical jargon while a minute later we’re virtually being spoon-fed the plot, just in case anyone got left behind. Kidman’s performance is of her usual high quality but Craig’s, while not being bad, is what some might term as ‘phoned in’. The intensity with which we saw him take on his first Bond film was conspicuous by its absence. Granted, the two characters are miles apart, but, as Carol’s only friend against all the ‘infected’, the character just needed more about him.
This film represented director, Oliver Hirschbiegel’s first foray into the Hollywood ‘big time’, having spent the previous twenty years or so working on German films and TV projects. Unfortunately, it showed. Although there was tension, there was just not enough of it. There was, of course, the underlying message that as humans, we fight and wage war against each other, but as emotionless souls we are forever at peace, having no reason to fight. So which state is best? The question, which (and admittedly, I’m guessing a little here) must have been a major point of the original, is touched upon in the film but never really addressed in any serious way.
As a way to pass an hour and a half, you could do worse. I really wanted this film to be good, given it’s two lead stars and the basic story, but I can’t help seeing it as an opportunity missed. It’s like your parents used to say when you upset them as a kid: ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’.
Tuesday, 9 October 2007
Film - The Brave One (2007, Dir. Neil Jordan)
Jodie Foster, while not being what I’d call my favourite actress, is someone I will always watch. Along with the likes of Robert De Niro, Christian Bale, Al Pacino and Edward Norton, knowing she’s in a film will have me taking the trip to the cinema because I know she won’t let me down. Her output is low by Hollywood standards, one of the luxuries of knowing you don’t have to take every scrap of work that’s offered to you. However, as far as I’m concerned she doesn’t make particularly bad films. From Taxi Driver to Silence of the Lambs and Panic Room to name but three, her choices have been solid, yet challenging roles. With The Brave One, we see her playing a woman who has been through terrible personal trauma and is slowly trying to rebuild her life. Not exactly Mary Poppins, then.
The story revolves around Foster’s character, Erica Bain, and her struggle to come to terms with the brutal murder of her fiancé while they were enjoying an evening walk in the park. She has her own radio show in which she talks about her beloved New York, indeed the film opens with her calm and steady voice describing scenes and memories of the city. However, her peaceful and relatively uncomplicated life is thrown into chaos after the death of her partner, who is buried while she is in a three-week coma. Erica is denied any kind of closure, initially scared of ever venturing onto the streets of her beloved home city and disillusioned by the apparent lack of enthusiasm of the police in pursuit of her assailants. Through slightly less-than-legal means, she gets herself a gun. At first, it’s hard to tell whether she does so out of a lust for revenge or purely because she’s scared and wants some protection. Her mind is soon made up for her, when she is forced to use the gun during a grocery store shooting.
Erica is shaken by the incident but the continued impotence of the police when it comes to finding her partner’s killers begins to frustrate her. On a late night train, two young men accost her after they have scared off the other passengers. Again she uses her gun and two more of the city’s low-life’s are killed. This time her reaction is not so much one of shock but surprise at how calm she is. From then on, she begins to accept that, as part of her grieving process, she is becoming someone else, developing another persona.
Of course, all this killing being done means there’s soon a cop on the trail. Enter Detective Mercer, well played by Terence Howard (Hustle and Flow, Crash). He’s one of the city’s ‘good’ cops, whose marriage evidently suffered and ultimately failed because of his dedication to the job. He is soon befriended by Erica after she interviews him for her show. As the story moves on, Mercer begins to suspect that Erica is somehow linked to the killings, but just how, is harder for him to determine.
As two characters who have lost people, although in very different ways, whom they loved, the connection they share is portrayed subtly and with just the tiniest hint of attraction. While initially motivated by her own mugging, Erica only goes after her attackers after Mercer manages to track down her ring, which was stolen at the time. After a little detective work of her own, Erica manages to locate the guys that changed the course of her life so violently. In an indication of her relationship with Mercer, Erica contacts him to tell him that she’s going to end it, giving him the chance to catch her.
The ending, while perhaps not wanting to outrage audiences, falls between a ‘Hollywood’ ending and a more gritty conclusion. The best thing about it is the fact that once Erica finds closure, of a sort, the film ends. And that’s as it should be. There’s no need to draw it out, to see how she got on with her life. All we need to know is that it ended and that what Erica needed to do, she did. Literally, ‘end of story’.
The performances in this film are first class, particularly from Foster and Howard. Their characters’ relationship is handled with just the right amount of affection, with as much emphasis put on what is not being said between them, as what is. Howard, notably at one point, has to convincingly show a momentary and uncharacteristic lack of commitment to his duty, which he couldn’t show while he was married - another indication of the connection between the two characters.
The film, although slow-paced at times, is engaging, while never glorifying or sensationalising the vigilante behaviour of it’s main protagonist. There was also scope for the film to become preachy but that too was something that never came about. The result is a film that, due in some part to the ending, leaves you wondering what you would do in the same circumstances.
The story revolves around Foster’s character, Erica Bain, and her struggle to come to terms with the brutal murder of her fiancé while they were enjoying an evening walk in the park. She has her own radio show in which she talks about her beloved New York, indeed the film opens with her calm and steady voice describing scenes and memories of the city. However, her peaceful and relatively uncomplicated life is thrown into chaos after the death of her partner, who is buried while she is in a three-week coma. Erica is denied any kind of closure, initially scared of ever venturing onto the streets of her beloved home city and disillusioned by the apparent lack of enthusiasm of the police in pursuit of her assailants. Through slightly less-than-legal means, she gets herself a gun. At first, it’s hard to tell whether she does so out of a lust for revenge or purely because she’s scared and wants some protection. Her mind is soon made up for her, when she is forced to use the gun during a grocery store shooting.
Erica is shaken by the incident but the continued impotence of the police when it comes to finding her partner’s killers begins to frustrate her. On a late night train, two young men accost her after they have scared off the other passengers. Again she uses her gun and two more of the city’s low-life’s are killed. This time her reaction is not so much one of shock but surprise at how calm she is. From then on, she begins to accept that, as part of her grieving process, she is becoming someone else, developing another persona.
Of course, all this killing being done means there’s soon a cop on the trail. Enter Detective Mercer, well played by Terence Howard (Hustle and Flow, Crash). He’s one of the city’s ‘good’ cops, whose marriage evidently suffered and ultimately failed because of his dedication to the job. He is soon befriended by Erica after she interviews him for her show. As the story moves on, Mercer begins to suspect that Erica is somehow linked to the killings, but just how, is harder for him to determine.
As two characters who have lost people, although in very different ways, whom they loved, the connection they share is portrayed subtly and with just the tiniest hint of attraction. While initially motivated by her own mugging, Erica only goes after her attackers after Mercer manages to track down her ring, which was stolen at the time. After a little detective work of her own, Erica manages to locate the guys that changed the course of her life so violently. In an indication of her relationship with Mercer, Erica contacts him to tell him that she’s going to end it, giving him the chance to catch her.
The ending, while perhaps not wanting to outrage audiences, falls between a ‘Hollywood’ ending and a more gritty conclusion. The best thing about it is the fact that once Erica finds closure, of a sort, the film ends. And that’s as it should be. There’s no need to draw it out, to see how she got on with her life. All we need to know is that it ended and that what Erica needed to do, she did. Literally, ‘end of story’.
The performances in this film are first class, particularly from Foster and Howard. Their characters’ relationship is handled with just the right amount of affection, with as much emphasis put on what is not being said between them, as what is. Howard, notably at one point, has to convincingly show a momentary and uncharacteristic lack of commitment to his duty, which he couldn’t show while he was married - another indication of the connection between the two characters.
The film, although slow-paced at times, is engaging, while never glorifying or sensationalising the vigilante behaviour of it’s main protagonist. There was also scope for the film to become preachy but that too was something that never came about. The result is a film that, due in some part to the ending, leaves you wondering what you would do in the same circumstances.
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