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.
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
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.
Tuesday, 2 October 2007
Film - Michael Clayton (2007, Dir. Tony Gilroy)
Now, I like my actors to be able to play a wide range of roles, to show off their range, so to speak. Johnny Depp is a good example - he’s played a pirate (Pirates of The Caribbean), a drug smuggler (Blow), a sweet-factory owner (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), a drug addled journalist (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas) and an undercover cop (Donnie Brasco). For me, George Clooney has until now, fallen into that category of actors that seem to play the same character, or type of character, in every film. To be fair, I haven’t seen Syriana, or Good Night and Good Luck, but in each film I’ve seen him in, he seems to play a relatively cool, together, smartly dressed man who is rarely seen as vulnerable or in a panic. I was getting pretty tired of it.
It was with these preconceptions that I went to see Michael Clayton, drawn not only by the trailer but by the reviews declaring this to be Clooney’s ‘best performance in years’ and so on. Clooney’s cause was not helped by the fact that these political thriller-type films are not my favourite and hence not ones I would usually seek out. But after watching All The President’s Men recently, I found myself with another reason to give the film a chance.
From the outset, it’s clear (as with most films of this genre) that paying attention is a must, as one slip in concentration can mean something later in the film not making any sense. It starts with the title character taking a routine job out in the sticks. He’s a ‘Janitor’, otherwise known as a ‘fixer’ or perhaps just ‘the man who can clean up whatever legal mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time’. The job on this particular occasion is irrelevant. It’s what happens while he’s in the middle of nowhere that sows the seeds for the rest of the film. Clayton looks like a tired man, physically and morally. He carries the look of a man who’s about to say ‘enough’ and turn his back on the whole thing. He luckily escapes a car bombing and it’s at this point we’re taken back to where the whole chain of events, which led to this attempt on his life, began.
He’s called in to contain a ‘situation’. The law firm he works for need him to bring a senior litigator, Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson), into line after he goes quite spectacularly off the rails while representing the firm in a three-billion dollar law suit. However, Clayton isn’t the only one with his eyes on Edens and before long, the waters begin to muddy. With Edens seemingly switching sides and preparing a case against his own firm’s clients, Clayton has to juggle his increasingly stressful work with his complicated personal life. He has to make time to see his young son (who lives with his ex-wife), while struggling to pay off a $75,000 debt from his alcoholic brother’s failed bar business.
That’s the story out of the way, more about Clooney. As I’ve said, Clooney isn’t my favourite actor but there’s enough about him to keep me interested. With his performance in this film, he’s won me over some more. With his character saddled with incomparable stresses, Clooney pulls off a great portrayal of a man approaching a crossroads in both his personal and professional lives. Not here, the cool, sophisticated, sharp-talking Clooney character of old. Here’s a man whose face is drawn, sporting a days’ beard growth and scarred with nearly two decades of deflecting countless attacks on his employers. He’s a man who ultimately feels his actions go unappreciated, but can do little about it. While the character of Clayton must project a level persona, one that cannot be phased, it’s the little nuances in Clooney’s performance that betray what is going on beneath the surface. The despair, the helplessness and the struggle to keep a grip on what is going on around him. All these emotions are conveyed through Clooney’s subtle facial expressions and the delivery of the dialogue. In the hands of another actor, the character could easily have come across as bland, uncaring or, frankly, dull. Clooney, however, pulls the audience in immediately with his depiction of a character under incredible pressure and maintains it brilliantly throughout the film. As the credits begin to roll, the camera stays on Clayton, taking a taxi ride through New York, for about a minute. Here’s where the cracks could have appeared and a lesser actor may well have ruined it by ‘hamming it up’. Clooney, though, sticks vehemently to the traits that have made the character so absorbing throughout the film, letting the tiniest expressions tell the story rather than succumbing to the obvious.
I’ve not seen enough political thrillers to be able to say where this film rates in the genre. All I can say is that Clooney’s performance, coupled with a good script and tight directing, had me wishing the film would carry on, at least just a while longer – that’s something I’ve never wanted from a George Clooney film, until now.
It was with these preconceptions that I went to see Michael Clayton, drawn not only by the trailer but by the reviews declaring this to be Clooney’s ‘best performance in years’ and so on. Clooney’s cause was not helped by the fact that these political thriller-type films are not my favourite and hence not ones I would usually seek out. But after watching All The President’s Men recently, I found myself with another reason to give the film a chance.
From the outset, it’s clear (as with most films of this genre) that paying attention is a must, as one slip in concentration can mean something later in the film not making any sense. It starts with the title character taking a routine job out in the sticks. He’s a ‘Janitor’, otherwise known as a ‘fixer’ or perhaps just ‘the man who can clean up whatever legal mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time’. The job on this particular occasion is irrelevant. It’s what happens while he’s in the middle of nowhere that sows the seeds for the rest of the film. Clayton looks like a tired man, physically and morally. He carries the look of a man who’s about to say ‘enough’ and turn his back on the whole thing. He luckily escapes a car bombing and it’s at this point we’re taken back to where the whole chain of events, which led to this attempt on his life, began.
He’s called in to contain a ‘situation’. The law firm he works for need him to bring a senior litigator, Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson), into line after he goes quite spectacularly off the rails while representing the firm in a three-billion dollar law suit. However, Clayton isn’t the only one with his eyes on Edens and before long, the waters begin to muddy. With Edens seemingly switching sides and preparing a case against his own firm’s clients, Clayton has to juggle his increasingly stressful work with his complicated personal life. He has to make time to see his young son (who lives with his ex-wife), while struggling to pay off a $75,000 debt from his alcoholic brother’s failed bar business.
That’s the story out of the way, more about Clooney. As I’ve said, Clooney isn’t my favourite actor but there’s enough about him to keep me interested. With his performance in this film, he’s won me over some more. With his character saddled with incomparable stresses, Clooney pulls off a great portrayal of a man approaching a crossroads in both his personal and professional lives. Not here, the cool, sophisticated, sharp-talking Clooney character of old. Here’s a man whose face is drawn, sporting a days’ beard growth and scarred with nearly two decades of deflecting countless attacks on his employers. He’s a man who ultimately feels his actions go unappreciated, but can do little about it. While the character of Clayton must project a level persona, one that cannot be phased, it’s the little nuances in Clooney’s performance that betray what is going on beneath the surface. The despair, the helplessness and the struggle to keep a grip on what is going on around him. All these emotions are conveyed through Clooney’s subtle facial expressions and the delivery of the dialogue. In the hands of another actor, the character could easily have come across as bland, uncaring or, frankly, dull. Clooney, however, pulls the audience in immediately with his depiction of a character under incredible pressure and maintains it brilliantly throughout the film. As the credits begin to roll, the camera stays on Clayton, taking a taxi ride through New York, for about a minute. Here’s where the cracks could have appeared and a lesser actor may well have ruined it by ‘hamming it up’. Clooney, though, sticks vehemently to the traits that have made the character so absorbing throughout the film, letting the tiniest expressions tell the story rather than succumbing to the obvious.
I’ve not seen enough political thrillers to be able to say where this film rates in the genre. All I can say is that Clooney’s performance, coupled with a good script and tight directing, had me wishing the film would carry on, at least just a while longer – that’s something I’ve never wanted from a George Clooney film, until now.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Film - Run Fatboy, Run (2007, Dir. David Schwimmer)
While most people seemed to like Shaun of the Dead, it left me kind of unsatisfied. OK, the first half was funny and rolled along nicely. The second half, however, seemed to be hamstrung by the fact that the story had to be told and brought to a conclusion. The humour, therefore, was sacrificed.
With Run Fatboy, Run, the trailer offered enough to make me think that Simon Pegg's latest project would go some way to restoring my faith in his ability to make me laugh.
It starts well enough, with Pegg's character, Dennis, running out on his bride (Thandie Newton) and their unborn child on his wedding day. It moves on five years, when Dennis is working a distinctly uninspiring day job as a security guard in a lingerie shop. Having realised that his former fiance is the love of his life, he sets about proving to her that he can change, using her new boyfriend, Whit's (Hank Azaria) passion for running as inspiration.
From the moment this is revealed, you can see the rest of the film rolling out before you like a carpet and you're always at least 10 minutes ahead of what's on the screen. Frankly, in cinema terms, there's nothing more irritating than a film in which you can see the twists and turns coming, as well as the gags.
How many films have come and gone with similar, if not the same, plotlines as this; guy loses girl, girl finds new guy, first guy wants girl back, girl finally discovers that second guy is not as good as he seems and realises she still loves the first guy. Yawn.
The film is directed by former Friends star, David Schwimmer and the American influence is all too evident. Where a British director may have handled an emotional climax to proceedings in a slightly down to earth and far more touching way, Schwimmer goes straight for the over-emotional, slow-motion, over-used music approach. It jars horribly with what has gone before - the simple enough story of a man, struggling to prove himself to his former fiance and his son.
On paper this could have worked as straight drama or all out comedy, but it tries to be both and it just doesn't work. Pegg's performance is too subdued and it looks like he was bursting to be funnier but was being held back. One highlight was Dylan Moran, who was as watchable as ever and provided the two laugh-out-loud moments in the film, one of which involved him being naked from the waist down. The man knows how to deliver a funny line with just the right amount of subtlety.
The bottom line is that what could have been a very funny film, is rarely so. Pegg's next project is How To Lose Friends and Alienate People, an adaptation of Toby Young's autobiographical book. Having read the book, I'm optimistic about the film's chances. I just hope Simon Pegg's undoubted talents aren't as suppressed in that film, as they were here.
With Run Fatboy, Run, the trailer offered enough to make me think that Simon Pegg's latest project would go some way to restoring my faith in his ability to make me laugh.
It starts well enough, with Pegg's character, Dennis, running out on his bride (Thandie Newton) and their unborn child on his wedding day. It moves on five years, when Dennis is working a distinctly uninspiring day job as a security guard in a lingerie shop. Having realised that his former fiance is the love of his life, he sets about proving to her that he can change, using her new boyfriend, Whit's (Hank Azaria) passion for running as inspiration.
From the moment this is revealed, you can see the rest of the film rolling out before you like a carpet and you're always at least 10 minutes ahead of what's on the screen. Frankly, in cinema terms, there's nothing more irritating than a film in which you can see the twists and turns coming, as well as the gags.
How many films have come and gone with similar, if not the same, plotlines as this; guy loses girl, girl finds new guy, first guy wants girl back, girl finally discovers that second guy is not as good as he seems and realises she still loves the first guy. Yawn.
The film is directed by former Friends star, David Schwimmer and the American influence is all too evident. Where a British director may have handled an emotional climax to proceedings in a slightly down to earth and far more touching way, Schwimmer goes straight for the over-emotional, slow-motion, over-used music approach. It jars horribly with what has gone before - the simple enough story of a man, struggling to prove himself to his former fiance and his son.
On paper this could have worked as straight drama or all out comedy, but it tries to be both and it just doesn't work. Pegg's performance is too subdued and it looks like he was bursting to be funnier but was being held back. One highlight was Dylan Moran, who was as watchable as ever and provided the two laugh-out-loud moments in the film, one of which involved him being naked from the waist down. The man knows how to deliver a funny line with just the right amount of subtlety.
The bottom line is that what could have been a very funny film, is rarely so. Pegg's next project is How To Lose Friends and Alienate People, an adaptation of Toby Young's autobiographical book. Having read the book, I'm optimistic about the film's chances. I just hope Simon Pegg's undoubted talents aren't as suppressed in that film, as they were here.
Thursday, 23 August 2007
Event - Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2007
This year's Edinburgh Fringe Festival was my first. With a view to putting on a play there in 2008, myself and my writing partner Jack Gibson ventured up the Scottish capital to see what it was all about and check out the 'vibe'.
We took in 6 performances during our one-and-a-half day visit and what follows are brief reviews of what we saw.
Teenage Kicks
This is a play about the late Radio 1 DJ, John Peel and his journey into the hearts and minds of his listeners. In the Universal Arts venue, which holds around 200, the play worked well and was well written and performed by the cast of three. One of the cast, lovingly referred to as Susan (played by a young man) played such diverse roles as an aspiring punk rocker to a shelf unit at Virgin records. The performances were good, the writing tight yet fluent and the whole experience, even for those who were not familiar with Peel's story (i.e. Jack) was a positive one.
Robin Ince Knew This Would Happen
Robin Ince is a stand-up comedian of several years experience and could be respectfully described as a Fringe 'veteran'. His stand up routine, in the Wildman Room at the Assembly @ George St lasted an hour or so. While I liked his material and was won over by his 'everyman' attitude, the set did linger five minutes too long. At the end, his material, based on science and such stuff, began to wander into the realms of obscure references and indecipherable quotes. I'm sure these must have seemed funny when Robin was coming up with them, but to an audience slightly less passionate about the subject, they just represented a weak ending to an otherwise very enjoyable hour of stand-up.
A Dependable Marriage
Somewhere on the top floor of the venue (C Soco, Chambers St) this play was performed to an audience of around 50 people, the vast majority of which turned out to be friends of the cast (something we discovered later that day - but more of that below). The play is about a couple who face the spectre of infidelity and handle it's consequences in a less than orthodox manner. While well written in places with some genuine laughs, the play ultimately left me wondering why I should care about what happened to any of the characters. The female parts were well acted but the male performers were wooden at best. One particular character who enters the life of the wronged wife as her 'revenge fling' was played by a guy who was clearly getting by on looks alone. The one highlight was the guy playing the all-too unaware husband of the main character's mistress, if only because he resembled Adrian Edmondson and his performance was the most comical, intentionally or otherwise.
What's Your Poison
This play, performed at the Roman Eagle Lodge, tried to explore the 'twin themes of addiction and dependence'. While most of the performances were passable, the character of Lisa, the most dependent and seemingly 'lost' of all the characters was seriously over-played. As a result, the audience's ability to lose themselves in the story was hindered. Although the story was worthwhile, the script seemed to wander and lose it's way, which meant the play ended with an air of issues being unresolved and of the audience really not caring.
Barbed and Spined
If Teenage Kicks was the highlight of our short visit, this play represented the lowlight. The cast was made up of those who had sat in the audience of A Dependable Marriage. The cast of that show were reciprocating here, filling out the majority of the 20-odd seats in what is surely the most claustrophobic venue at the Fringe, Venue 260 @ Jury's Inn. The 'venue' is basically a tiny, converted conference room on the 7th floor of a hotel and indicative of the fact that, at this time of year, any available space in the city is farmed out as performance space. The play, supposedly a 'vicious and provocative new drama' about fragile relationships, was, at best, a waste of time. I felt as if I had walked into a group of friends putting on a hastily written and poorly rehearsed play for their mates. Pointless profanity was thrown in at thirty second intervals and the performances were absolutely awful, proving that shouting your lines doesn't cover up poor writing and inadequacies in the talent department. For some reason I applauded at the end, probably just grateful that it was all over.
The Coach
The final play we took in, back at the miniscule Jury's Inn venue, was blessed relief after those who had sullied the 'stage' before them. Focusing on a football coach's shattered dreams and his obsession with living them through the boys team he coaches, the play fizzes along and provides some good moments. The performances are all solid, the main character being played well, with just the right amount of dark comedy and impending menace. Given the severely limited performance space, the play came across well and provided our trip with the upturn in quality it sorely needed.
The Edinburgh Fringe is a great place for catching the most eclectic collection of performances, either at official venues or by just wondering through the streets. An experience that should really be given more than one-and-a-half-days to appreciate properly.
We took in 6 performances during our one-and-a-half day visit and what follows are brief reviews of what we saw.
Teenage Kicks
This is a play about the late Radio 1 DJ, John Peel and his journey into the hearts and minds of his listeners. In the Universal Arts venue, which holds around 200, the play worked well and was well written and performed by the cast of three. One of the cast, lovingly referred to as Susan (played by a young man) played such diverse roles as an aspiring punk rocker to a shelf unit at Virgin records. The performances were good, the writing tight yet fluent and the whole experience, even for those who were not familiar with Peel's story (i.e. Jack) was a positive one.
Robin Ince Knew This Would Happen
Robin Ince is a stand-up comedian of several years experience and could be respectfully described as a Fringe 'veteran'. His stand up routine, in the Wildman Room at the Assembly @ George St lasted an hour or so. While I liked his material and was won over by his 'everyman' attitude, the set did linger five minutes too long. At the end, his material, based on science and such stuff, began to wander into the realms of obscure references and indecipherable quotes. I'm sure these must have seemed funny when Robin was coming up with them, but to an audience slightly less passionate about the subject, they just represented a weak ending to an otherwise very enjoyable hour of stand-up.
A Dependable Marriage
Somewhere on the top floor of the venue (C Soco, Chambers St) this play was performed to an audience of around 50 people, the vast majority of which turned out to be friends of the cast (something we discovered later that day - but more of that below). The play is about a couple who face the spectre of infidelity and handle it's consequences in a less than orthodox manner. While well written in places with some genuine laughs, the play ultimately left me wondering why I should care about what happened to any of the characters. The female parts were well acted but the male performers were wooden at best. One particular character who enters the life of the wronged wife as her 'revenge fling' was played by a guy who was clearly getting by on looks alone. The one highlight was the guy playing the all-too unaware husband of the main character's mistress, if only because he resembled Adrian Edmondson and his performance was the most comical, intentionally or otherwise.
What's Your Poison
This play, performed at the Roman Eagle Lodge, tried to explore the 'twin themes of addiction and dependence'. While most of the performances were passable, the character of Lisa, the most dependent and seemingly 'lost' of all the characters was seriously over-played. As a result, the audience's ability to lose themselves in the story was hindered. Although the story was worthwhile, the script seemed to wander and lose it's way, which meant the play ended with an air of issues being unresolved and of the audience really not caring.
Barbed and Spined
If Teenage Kicks was the highlight of our short visit, this play represented the lowlight. The cast was made up of those who had sat in the audience of A Dependable Marriage. The cast of that show were reciprocating here, filling out the majority of the 20-odd seats in what is surely the most claustrophobic venue at the Fringe, Venue 260 @ Jury's Inn. The 'venue' is basically a tiny, converted conference room on the 7th floor of a hotel and indicative of the fact that, at this time of year, any available space in the city is farmed out as performance space. The play, supposedly a 'vicious and provocative new drama' about fragile relationships, was, at best, a waste of time. I felt as if I had walked into a group of friends putting on a hastily written and poorly rehearsed play for their mates. Pointless profanity was thrown in at thirty second intervals and the performances were absolutely awful, proving that shouting your lines doesn't cover up poor writing and inadequacies in the talent department. For some reason I applauded at the end, probably just grateful that it was all over.
The Coach
The final play we took in, back at the miniscule Jury's Inn venue, was blessed relief after those who had sullied the 'stage' before them. Focusing on a football coach's shattered dreams and his obsession with living them through the boys team he coaches, the play fizzes along and provides some good moments. The performances are all solid, the main character being played well, with just the right amount of dark comedy and impending menace. Given the severely limited performance space, the play came across well and provided our trip with the upturn in quality it sorely needed.
The Edinburgh Fringe is a great place for catching the most eclectic collection of performances, either at official venues or by just wondering through the streets. An experience that should really be given more than one-and-a-half-days to appreciate properly.
Monday, 6 August 2007
Book - Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (With Minimal Spoilers) - 2007, J K Rowling
So it’s finally over. Seventeen years in the writing, seven books, over 3000 pages, deaths, resurrections, battles, spells, curses, counter curses and, naturally, a civilisation-threatening struggle between good and evil. There's even room for a bit of the normal stuff; teenage angst, burgeoning romance, (complete with the awkward and uncomfortable moments) and rebelling against numerous authority figures. The Harry Potter adventure has finally reached its climax. We have been with our hero through everything. From the moment he was placed on the doorstep of number 4, Privet Drive, right up to the ultimate confrontation with the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Would the Boy Who Lived triumph against the one who gave him his famous scar? Or would evil win the day?
I picked up Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows with, I’ll admit, more than a trace of eager anticipation. It has often been said about the Harry Potter books, that they appeal to adults as well as children. I originally tutted, rolled my eyes and made the usual gestures of incredulity at the possibility of any book aimed at children being able to win over an adult market. However, being 12,000 miles away from home with time on your hands will do funny things to a man. So it was in 2002, when I purchased Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone from a tiny independent bookshop in Sydney. I haven’t looked back since. Although not a die-hard fanatic, I have faithfully read all the books and seen all the films. So, to now be picking up the final installment of what, at times, has been a gripping, saddening, uplifting and amusing tale, filled me with the aforementioned anticipation.
The Deathly Hallows sees Harry preparing to bring all that has happened since Hagrid exploded into his life all those years before, to a conclusion, one way or another. With his two closest friends, Ron and Hermione in tow, he sets off to complete the mission set him by Dumbledore before the former Headmaster’s death. He must find the Horcruxes in which Voldemort hid the fractured remnants of his soul and destroy them. While the wizarding world tries to carry on the fight without their most famous of allies, Harry, Ron and Hermione disapparate all over the country, both in their efforts to find the Horcruxes and to evade capture from Voldemort’s Death Eaters. There are plenty of developments along the way; Harry becomes obsessed with visiting Godric’s Hollow, the village in which he was born and his parents are buried, Ron and Hermione continue to grow closer (even after Harry and Ron have a friendship-threatening row) and some high profile members of the Order of The Phoenix meet sticky ends. It all ends in a climactic battle at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with Harry and a multitude of friends battling to hold off Voldemort and all of his supporters. In an attempt to confront Voldemort, Harry stumbles on his nemesis killing, albeit regretfully, his supposed, most faithful servant, Severus Snape. Harry learns from Snape’s volunteered memories, given up to him by the man himself moments before his last breath, that Snape was in fact Dumbledore’s man all along. Harry also learns what he must do to end the battles; that which has taken place in the school grounds and that which has been raging since he escaped death at Voldemort’s hands as a baby.
The battle is halted by Voldemort, to give Harry the chance to surrender himself and avoid further bloodshed. While the dead and wounded are gathered in the school’s Great Hall, Harry, unbeknownst to his allies, goes to meet Voldemort.
There is a real sense that Harry is growing up as the story unfolds, most notably when a character dies in the act of saving Harry’s life. From that point on, it seems he has accepted that he has a heavy responsibility resting on his shoulders. He starts to accept that he is becoming the person his mentors knew he must become. A leader, a hero and dare it be said, a saviour.
Now for the quibbly part.
J K Rowling said before the book was launched that two major characters would perish in the book. Although a sad decision on her part, it seemed to be a realistic one. Having all the good guys survive and all the bad guys die would, of course, be ludicrously far fetched. For a book aimed primarily at the younger market, it’s not a message that is going to set up young minds for the disappointments they would surely encounter later in their lives. As much as a story about a young wizard and his amazing adventures can be realistic, there has to be some measure of credibility. The death of a character who may have seemed too important to die, hammers home the point that life isn’t always fair and that, sometimes, bad things happen. However, following the revelation that ‘two major characters will perish’, I have to say that I was, if not disappointed (that might come across as a little macabre), then let down by the choice of characters when it came to the crunch. While the ones who die are undoubtedly important in the big picture, to describe them as ‘major characters’, I think was stretching it a little.
While I am undoubtedly a fan of the Harry Potter books, I have to admit that there are striking similarities between the story as a whole and Lord of The Rings. For Dementors, read Ringwraiths; for Voldemort, read Sauron; for Dumbledore, read Gandalf; for Harry Potter, read Frodo Baggins. It is not just the characters that bear a striking resemblance to Tolkein’s classic. As Harry has a connection to Voldemort, so did Frodo to Sauron. In this final book the similarities are at their most obvious. Harry, Ron and Hermione all set out on the road and endure hardships in an attempt to bring down the enemy (referred to, at times, as the Dark Lord, as was Sauron) by destroying things that were sacred to him. This journey compares to that taken by Frodo and Sam, at the end of which Frodo was charged with destroying the one thing that could destroy the enemy. One of the Horcruxes is a locket, which the three take turns to wear but it weighs down the bearer and alters their mood, a relationship not unlike that between Frodo and the Ring. After a particularly vitriolic argument, Ron storms off, leaving Harry and Hermione to continue the quest without him. This mirrors Sam’s departure after a confrontation with Gollum. In both cases, the departed returns in time to save their friend’s life and to rejoin the respective quests. In Lord of the Rings a major theme is that of many races working together to overcome a common enemy, a theme that is touched upon in The Deathly Hallows with Harry having to ask for help from a goblin. Throughout the series, goblins and wizards have never got on but in the face of such a formidable foe, the differences are reluctantly set aside. Mind you, it’s an understandable theme to include and what was J K Rowling supposed to do, have everyone at each other’s throats as evil took over the world?
All things considered, the Harry Potter books have offered me nothing but entertainment for the past four years (I was a latecomer, as indicated earlier). I have read very few books that have hooked me so completely that to put them down before the end involved a real effort. It took me a couple of days to get a third of the way in to The Deathly Hallows. The remaining 400 pages took me an afternoon. I think can safely say, that was a first. For all the negative points raised above, I have really enjoyed J K Rowling’s creations and the seventh and final chapter has done nothing to change my mind. Of course, there will be a multitude of opinions on how the whole Harry Potter story has reached its conclusion. They’ll range from those who are angrily disappointed to those (frankly unhinged) fans who will be deliriously fulfilled beyond all expectation. Personally, after closing a Potter book for the last time, I found myself disappointed. Not because of the book itself, but because I simply didn’t want the thing to end.
The final two sentences of the book, rather than offering a definite ending, hint the tiniest of hints that more could follow in the future. I for one have never been a fan of flogging something to death and sincerely hope that Harry Potter is left alone. As the man himself says towards the end of the book - the end of his adventures - ‘…I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.’
I picked up Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows with, I’ll admit, more than a trace of eager anticipation. It has often been said about the Harry Potter books, that they appeal to adults as well as children. I originally tutted, rolled my eyes and made the usual gestures of incredulity at the possibility of any book aimed at children being able to win over an adult market. However, being 12,000 miles away from home with time on your hands will do funny things to a man. So it was in 2002, when I purchased Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone from a tiny independent bookshop in Sydney. I haven’t looked back since. Although not a die-hard fanatic, I have faithfully read all the books and seen all the films. So, to now be picking up the final installment of what, at times, has been a gripping, saddening, uplifting and amusing tale, filled me with the aforementioned anticipation.
The Deathly Hallows sees Harry preparing to bring all that has happened since Hagrid exploded into his life all those years before, to a conclusion, one way or another. With his two closest friends, Ron and Hermione in tow, he sets off to complete the mission set him by Dumbledore before the former Headmaster’s death. He must find the Horcruxes in which Voldemort hid the fractured remnants of his soul and destroy them. While the wizarding world tries to carry on the fight without their most famous of allies, Harry, Ron and Hermione disapparate all over the country, both in their efforts to find the Horcruxes and to evade capture from Voldemort’s Death Eaters. There are plenty of developments along the way; Harry becomes obsessed with visiting Godric’s Hollow, the village in which he was born and his parents are buried, Ron and Hermione continue to grow closer (even after Harry and Ron have a friendship-threatening row) and some high profile members of the Order of The Phoenix meet sticky ends. It all ends in a climactic battle at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with Harry and a multitude of friends battling to hold off Voldemort and all of his supporters. In an attempt to confront Voldemort, Harry stumbles on his nemesis killing, albeit regretfully, his supposed, most faithful servant, Severus Snape. Harry learns from Snape’s volunteered memories, given up to him by the man himself moments before his last breath, that Snape was in fact Dumbledore’s man all along. Harry also learns what he must do to end the battles; that which has taken place in the school grounds and that which has been raging since he escaped death at Voldemort’s hands as a baby.
The battle is halted by Voldemort, to give Harry the chance to surrender himself and avoid further bloodshed. While the dead and wounded are gathered in the school’s Great Hall, Harry, unbeknownst to his allies, goes to meet Voldemort.
There is a real sense that Harry is growing up as the story unfolds, most notably when a character dies in the act of saving Harry’s life. From that point on, it seems he has accepted that he has a heavy responsibility resting on his shoulders. He starts to accept that he is becoming the person his mentors knew he must become. A leader, a hero and dare it be said, a saviour.
Now for the quibbly part.
J K Rowling said before the book was launched that two major characters would perish in the book. Although a sad decision on her part, it seemed to be a realistic one. Having all the good guys survive and all the bad guys die would, of course, be ludicrously far fetched. For a book aimed primarily at the younger market, it’s not a message that is going to set up young minds for the disappointments they would surely encounter later in their lives. As much as a story about a young wizard and his amazing adventures can be realistic, there has to be some measure of credibility. The death of a character who may have seemed too important to die, hammers home the point that life isn’t always fair and that, sometimes, bad things happen. However, following the revelation that ‘two major characters will perish’, I have to say that I was, if not disappointed (that might come across as a little macabre), then let down by the choice of characters when it came to the crunch. While the ones who die are undoubtedly important in the big picture, to describe them as ‘major characters’, I think was stretching it a little.
While I am undoubtedly a fan of the Harry Potter books, I have to admit that there are striking similarities between the story as a whole and Lord of The Rings. For Dementors, read Ringwraiths; for Voldemort, read Sauron; for Dumbledore, read Gandalf; for Harry Potter, read Frodo Baggins. It is not just the characters that bear a striking resemblance to Tolkein’s classic. As Harry has a connection to Voldemort, so did Frodo to Sauron. In this final book the similarities are at their most obvious. Harry, Ron and Hermione all set out on the road and endure hardships in an attempt to bring down the enemy (referred to, at times, as the Dark Lord, as was Sauron) by destroying things that were sacred to him. This journey compares to that taken by Frodo and Sam, at the end of which Frodo was charged with destroying the one thing that could destroy the enemy. One of the Horcruxes is a locket, which the three take turns to wear but it weighs down the bearer and alters their mood, a relationship not unlike that between Frodo and the Ring. After a particularly vitriolic argument, Ron storms off, leaving Harry and Hermione to continue the quest without him. This mirrors Sam’s departure after a confrontation with Gollum. In both cases, the departed returns in time to save their friend’s life and to rejoin the respective quests. In Lord of the Rings a major theme is that of many races working together to overcome a common enemy, a theme that is touched upon in The Deathly Hallows with Harry having to ask for help from a goblin. Throughout the series, goblins and wizards have never got on but in the face of such a formidable foe, the differences are reluctantly set aside. Mind you, it’s an understandable theme to include and what was J K Rowling supposed to do, have everyone at each other’s throats as evil took over the world?
All things considered, the Harry Potter books have offered me nothing but entertainment for the past four years (I was a latecomer, as indicated earlier). I have read very few books that have hooked me so completely that to put them down before the end involved a real effort. It took me a couple of days to get a third of the way in to The Deathly Hallows. The remaining 400 pages took me an afternoon. I think can safely say, that was a first. For all the negative points raised above, I have really enjoyed J K Rowling’s creations and the seventh and final chapter has done nothing to change my mind. Of course, there will be a multitude of opinions on how the whole Harry Potter story has reached its conclusion. They’ll range from those who are angrily disappointed to those (frankly unhinged) fans who will be deliriously fulfilled beyond all expectation. Personally, after closing a Potter book for the last time, I found myself disappointed. Not because of the book itself, but because I simply didn’t want the thing to end.
The final two sentences of the book, rather than offering a definite ending, hint the tiniest of hints that more could follow in the future. I for one have never been a fan of flogging something to death and sincerely hope that Harry Potter is left alone. As the man himself says towards the end of the book - the end of his adventures - ‘…I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.’
Friday, 6 July 2007
Film - Die Hard 4.0 (2007, Dir. Len Wiseman)
When the Die Hard franchise began in 1988, John McLane or perhaps more to the point, Bruce Willis, was a relatively young and energetic 33 year old guy. Foiling the plans of terrorists was, if not a walk in the park, at least a leap down an elevator shaft. Nineteen years on and McLane/Willis has passed 50 and the old bones ain’t what they used to be. Or at least that’s what you’d think. With Die Hard 4.0 comes welcome, if startling, evidence that, when push comes to shove, the old dog still has some fight in him.
The terrorists may have moved on, along with the computer-based weapons they have at their disposal, but our John never really did sign up to the whole cyber revolution. So when the bad guys decide they’re going to use all this mind-boggling technology to shut down America, wipe out all it’s finances and basically bring the country to it’s knees, old man McLane is, to use a line from the film, ‘A Timex in a digital world’.
The fact that the filmmakers decided to play on McLane’s age adds an air of credibility (as much as a film in which a guy launches a car at a helicopter can be credible) to the film that, frankly, I was worried would be missing, given the elapsed time since Die Hard 3. Throughout the film there are references to McLane’s ‘senior’, fish-out-of-water status, references which are swiftly contrasted with his own blunt but equally successful old-school methods.
This time, however, guns and fist fights aren’t enough and our hero needs a little help to beat the bad guys. Again, this was an area in which the film could have fallen down but in Matt Farrell, well played by Justin Long, we have a ‘sidekick’ of sorts who can deliver a funny line and help the good guys without looking like a spare wheel. The humour itself is evenly distributed and adds to the overall mood of a film that, while at no stage a comedy, never takes itself too seriously.
There was a danger that the film would look like a sad attempt to give an iconic anti-hero a last run out. It would have been easy to do; have him say the same old lines, blow a few things up, kill the bad guys, throw in a bit of wise-cracking and we all go home. Thankfully, as Casino Royale proved, it’s possible to take what could be, in James Bond’s case, a tired and stagnating franchise and drag it into the modern era without losing what made it successful in the first place. Along with the usual plot – terrorist threatens to cause mass destruction but doesn’t account for John McLane – there is a healthy dose of special effects, used in good measure with live action stunts. The two mix well and the originality when it comes to the crashes, the bangs and a fair few of the wallops is refreshing to see. The famous off-the-cuff McLane remarks are still there and they’re well utilized to demonstrate just how out of touch he is, coming most notably when he is being beaten up by a kung-fu-fighting woman and a free-jumping Frenchman. Just another day in the life of J McLane.
The film fairly fizzes along and no fight sequence is dwelled upon for too long, something of which those in similar films of yesteryear could be accused. Even the final coming together of McLane and his nemesis, where most films draw the confrontation out, is handled efficiently and ends in a way that is in keeping with what has gone before it, providing a climax that almost has you punching the air. McLane may not know his gigabytes from his teraflops but his ingenuity and ability to improvise (knocking a shooter out of a helicopter using a fire hydrant, anyone?) is a constant source of entertainment and has you laughing out loud, out of sheer amazement.
Die Hard 4.0 is one of those rare things in cinema; a sequel that not only lives up to the original but actually surpasses it.
The Director, Len Wiseman, is one of a few whose names are being linked to the recently announced Wolverine film. Previously known only for directing the Underworld films, on this evidence, Wiseman would be a great choice to helm the X-Men spin-off.
The terrorists may have moved on, along with the computer-based weapons they have at their disposal, but our John never really did sign up to the whole cyber revolution. So when the bad guys decide they’re going to use all this mind-boggling technology to shut down America, wipe out all it’s finances and basically bring the country to it’s knees, old man McLane is, to use a line from the film, ‘A Timex in a digital world’.
The fact that the filmmakers decided to play on McLane’s age adds an air of credibility (as much as a film in which a guy launches a car at a helicopter can be credible) to the film that, frankly, I was worried would be missing, given the elapsed time since Die Hard 3. Throughout the film there are references to McLane’s ‘senior’, fish-out-of-water status, references which are swiftly contrasted with his own blunt but equally successful old-school methods.
This time, however, guns and fist fights aren’t enough and our hero needs a little help to beat the bad guys. Again, this was an area in which the film could have fallen down but in Matt Farrell, well played by Justin Long, we have a ‘sidekick’ of sorts who can deliver a funny line and help the good guys without looking like a spare wheel. The humour itself is evenly distributed and adds to the overall mood of a film that, while at no stage a comedy, never takes itself too seriously.
There was a danger that the film would look like a sad attempt to give an iconic anti-hero a last run out. It would have been easy to do; have him say the same old lines, blow a few things up, kill the bad guys, throw in a bit of wise-cracking and we all go home. Thankfully, as Casino Royale proved, it’s possible to take what could be, in James Bond’s case, a tired and stagnating franchise and drag it into the modern era without losing what made it successful in the first place. Along with the usual plot – terrorist threatens to cause mass destruction but doesn’t account for John McLane – there is a healthy dose of special effects, used in good measure with live action stunts. The two mix well and the originality when it comes to the crashes, the bangs and a fair few of the wallops is refreshing to see. The famous off-the-cuff McLane remarks are still there and they’re well utilized to demonstrate just how out of touch he is, coming most notably when he is being beaten up by a kung-fu-fighting woman and a free-jumping Frenchman. Just another day in the life of J McLane.
The film fairly fizzes along and no fight sequence is dwelled upon for too long, something of which those in similar films of yesteryear could be accused. Even the final coming together of McLane and his nemesis, where most films draw the confrontation out, is handled efficiently and ends in a way that is in keeping with what has gone before it, providing a climax that almost has you punching the air. McLane may not know his gigabytes from his teraflops but his ingenuity and ability to improvise (knocking a shooter out of a helicopter using a fire hydrant, anyone?) is a constant source of entertainment and has you laughing out loud, out of sheer amazement.
Die Hard 4.0 is one of those rare things in cinema; a sequel that not only lives up to the original but actually surpasses it.
The Director, Len Wiseman, is one of a few whose names are being linked to the recently announced Wolverine film. Previously known only for directing the Underworld films, on this evidence, Wiseman would be a great choice to helm the X-Men spin-off.
Monday, 2 July 2007
Film - Ocean's Thirteen (2007, Dir. Steven Soderburgh)
So there was Ocean's 11, the remake of the brat pack movie from 1960. That was a stylish and well crafted re-make. Then came Ocean's 12. Not as good as '11', but managed to escape the more acidic wrath of the critics. So, with Ocean's 13, Steven Soderburgh and his crew had a chance to redeem themselves and win back the fans they may have lost after '12' (are you keeping up?). Did they do it? Personally, yes, I think they did.
The selling point of the first Soderburgh movie was the intricacy of the heist and the talents of the assembled crew. The selling point of the second movie was...well, I'm not entirely sure, to be honest, and as a result it just plodded along without really engaging it's audience. With '13', Soderburgh had to take a different approach. The audience was familiar with the talents of the players, the witty back-and-forth between them and had already been drawn into the high stakes world of Vegas gambling and big money scams. So, in the third instalment we see the 'human' sides to the crew members. The benefactor behind the previous scams, Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould) is double crossed by Willie Bank (Al Pacino) during a joint business venture and as a result, his health deteriorates, nearly killing him. With revenge in their hearts, Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and Rusty Ryan (Bradd Pitt) call up their trusty crew and set about getting even with Bank.
The problem is that Bank is one of the most savvy, quick thinking and well connected businessmen in Vegas and scamming him and his state of the art hotel and casino is going to take all of Ocean's crew's talents and then some. All the usual ingredients are there; the set up, the almost incomprehensible but impressive jargon-filled conversations, the planning, the baffling technology and the wry humour. However, this movie is far slower paced than the first two, reflecting the enormity of the task Ocean's crew has on their hands. Things go wrong, things break and some things just plain don't work. All the activity is played out to the backdrop of Reuben's slow and unpredictable recovery, reminding us why they're doing it, with Ocean and Ryan even reminiscing about the old days, when they first met Reuben.
The point is clear; they're not doing this because they're thieves or conmen. They're doing it because one of their friends has been double crossed and needs their help. A big indicator of how much it all means to them comes when the crew go to Terry Benedict, Ocean's nemesis of sorts, to enlist his help.
The performances are all top notch again, Clooney and Pitt exeduing 'cool' from every pore, while the other players fill their roles superbly. The return of Roman Nagel, subtly played by Eddie Izzard, gives the movie a sense of continuity in relation to Ocean's 12 and the whole thing just works. If Ocean et al were seen as maybe a little heartless or cold in their actions in the previous outings, their characters are seen in a different light when compared to the hard-hearted, machiavellian Willie Bank, brilliantly played by Pacino (who remains one of the few actors who I would watch in anything).
After the relative disappointment of Ocean's 12, this movie had a lot to live up to and it has done the trick by adding the human touch that the first two, for whatever reason, were lacking. Whatever damage was done by Ocean's 12 has surely been repaired now and Ocean's crew can sit back and take a well earned holiday.
The selling point of the first Soderburgh movie was the intricacy of the heist and the talents of the assembled crew. The selling point of the second movie was...well, I'm not entirely sure, to be honest, and as a result it just plodded along without really engaging it's audience. With '13', Soderburgh had to take a different approach. The audience was familiar with the talents of the players, the witty back-and-forth between them and had already been drawn into the high stakes world of Vegas gambling and big money scams. So, in the third instalment we see the 'human' sides to the crew members. The benefactor behind the previous scams, Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould) is double crossed by Willie Bank (Al Pacino) during a joint business venture and as a result, his health deteriorates, nearly killing him. With revenge in their hearts, Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and Rusty Ryan (Bradd Pitt) call up their trusty crew and set about getting even with Bank.
The problem is that Bank is one of the most savvy, quick thinking and well connected businessmen in Vegas and scamming him and his state of the art hotel and casino is going to take all of Ocean's crew's talents and then some. All the usual ingredients are there; the set up, the almost incomprehensible but impressive jargon-filled conversations, the planning, the baffling technology and the wry humour. However, this movie is far slower paced than the first two, reflecting the enormity of the task Ocean's crew has on their hands. Things go wrong, things break and some things just plain don't work. All the activity is played out to the backdrop of Reuben's slow and unpredictable recovery, reminding us why they're doing it, with Ocean and Ryan even reminiscing about the old days, when they first met Reuben.
The point is clear; they're not doing this because they're thieves or conmen. They're doing it because one of their friends has been double crossed and needs their help. A big indicator of how much it all means to them comes when the crew go to Terry Benedict, Ocean's nemesis of sorts, to enlist his help.
The performances are all top notch again, Clooney and Pitt exeduing 'cool' from every pore, while the other players fill their roles superbly. The return of Roman Nagel, subtly played by Eddie Izzard, gives the movie a sense of continuity in relation to Ocean's 12 and the whole thing just works. If Ocean et al were seen as maybe a little heartless or cold in their actions in the previous outings, their characters are seen in a different light when compared to the hard-hearted, machiavellian Willie Bank, brilliantly played by Pacino (who remains one of the few actors who I would watch in anything).
After the relative disappointment of Ocean's 12, this movie had a lot to live up to and it has done the trick by adding the human touch that the first two, for whatever reason, were lacking. Whatever damage was done by Ocean's 12 has surely been repaired now and Ocean's crew can sit back and take a well earned holiday.
Sunday, 1 July 2007
Film - Captivity (2007, Dir. Roland Joffe)
In recent years there have been plenty of psychological thrillers to keep audiences scared out of their wits. Captivity is another in that mould.
Elisha Cuthbert, star of 24 and The Girl Next Door, plays Jennifer, a famous model who is abducted and imprisoned in a solitary room while her captors toy with her, emotionally and psychologically.
Following in the footsteps of films like the Saw trilogy and Hostel, Captivity ticks all the right boxes as far as making these types of movies is concerned. Stalking the vicitim from the bad guy's point of view; check. Isolating the victim in a shabby and claustrophobic setting; check. Throwing in a subtantial amount of gore while upping the psychological torture score; check once more.
While the film, in itself, is OK, I got the feeling that I'd seen it all somewhere before. After seeing the aforementioned Saw and Hostel, Captivity left me wanting something original, something that would set it apart from those other movies. Sadly it fails to do so and I found myself ticking off the developments in the plot in my head, rather than getting drawn into the film in any serious way. It was all here; despair, then hope and possible-but-doomed escape, a fleeting hope of rescue from the police before that hope is extinguished and then finally the victim gets some backbone and makes a break for it. All done before, all too predictable.
In an effort to inject some originality, a second 'prisoner', Gary, is introduced and, frankly, from the moment he appears it is all to obvious that there is something fishy about him. His credibility as a genuine victim never gets off the ground and as a result I found myself counting down to the moment when the truth would be revealed. The anti-climax when 'Gary's real part in the whole set-up is uncovered, put paid to any resolve I was harbouring to 'suspend my disbelief'. Any film where you can see what's coming an hour before it happens is going to struggle to really hold your attention. And that was sadly the case with Captivity.
The film was directed by Roland Joffe, who directed one of my favourite films, The Killing Fields, and I was hoping for something more than a formulaic psycho-thriller from a man of Joffe's stature. Although the gore is suitably disgusting and surprisingly realistic, the film ultimately struggles to break any new ground in the genre.
As a way to pass 90 minutes, you could do worse, but if it's originality you're after, then I'd carry on looking if I were you.
Elisha Cuthbert, star of 24 and The Girl Next Door, plays Jennifer, a famous model who is abducted and imprisoned in a solitary room while her captors toy with her, emotionally and psychologically.
Following in the footsteps of films like the Saw trilogy and Hostel, Captivity ticks all the right boxes as far as making these types of movies is concerned. Stalking the vicitim from the bad guy's point of view; check. Isolating the victim in a shabby and claustrophobic setting; check. Throwing in a subtantial amount of gore while upping the psychological torture score; check once more.
While the film, in itself, is OK, I got the feeling that I'd seen it all somewhere before. After seeing the aforementioned Saw and Hostel, Captivity left me wanting something original, something that would set it apart from those other movies. Sadly it fails to do so and I found myself ticking off the developments in the plot in my head, rather than getting drawn into the film in any serious way. It was all here; despair, then hope and possible-but-doomed escape, a fleeting hope of rescue from the police before that hope is extinguished and then finally the victim gets some backbone and makes a break for it. All done before, all too predictable.
In an effort to inject some originality, a second 'prisoner', Gary, is introduced and, frankly, from the moment he appears it is all to obvious that there is something fishy about him. His credibility as a genuine victim never gets off the ground and as a result I found myself counting down to the moment when the truth would be revealed. The anti-climax when 'Gary's real part in the whole set-up is uncovered, put paid to any resolve I was harbouring to 'suspend my disbelief'. Any film where you can see what's coming an hour before it happens is going to struggle to really hold your attention. And that was sadly the case with Captivity.
The film was directed by Roland Joffe, who directed one of my favourite films, The Killing Fields, and I was hoping for something more than a formulaic psycho-thriller from a man of Joffe's stature. Although the gore is suitably disgusting and surprisingly realistic, the film ultimately struggles to break any new ground in the genre.
As a way to pass 90 minutes, you could do worse, but if it's originality you're after, then I'd carry on looking if I were you.
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