Review: Insidious: Chapter 2

Review: Insidious: Chapter 2

Year: 2013

Director: James Wan

Screenplay: Leigh Warren

Starring: Patrick Wilson, Rose Byrne, Barabra Hershey

Synopsis is here:

My viewing relationship with James Wan (director) and Leigh Whannell (writer) isn’t a great one, but it’s not a terrible. Despite originally being a massive fan of Saw upon its release, the two have done little to wow me since their début. There’s no doubt that the relationship is a fruitful one. Between them; their films have made serious bank at the box office.  It also didn't surprise me that due to Wan’s ability to wrap action orientated shoots quickly, he’s taking on the next Fast and the Furious film in time for next year. I do hope however, that Wan gives us a stronger effort with that massively budgeted franchise than the limp wristed entry we’re given here. I found Insidious: Chapter 2 not only nonsensical (time travel? Honestly?), but it’s also tedious as a horror movie.

Critic Mark Kermode has noted that film’s like Insidious: Chapter 2 are horror films for people who dislike horror and I’m inclined to agree, to a point. Wan is clearly cine-literate and Chapter 2 borrows liberally from the likes of The Shining (1980), The Astronauts Wife (1999), The Entity (1982) and Poltergeist (1982) for many of its scenes but does so in such an obvious way that you feel that Wan is hedging bets that his audience doesn't know or no longer care about the films that he’s borrowing from.  Wan then strips each reference of the atmosphere that made the films what they were and instead fills very sequence with protracted BOO moments that annoy rather than unsettle.

It’s strange that one of the producers on this feature was Oren Peli; a man whose claim to fame was orchestrating the extremely popular Paranormal Activity, a film’s tension was provided by capturing those disturbing hours where seemingly nothing happens. Peli knew just how uneasy someone could feel due to the power of stillness. Insidious: Chapter 2 betrays this by manhandling the viewer whenever it can. The camera pans, scans and zooms to absolute distraction, while the films score and loud bangs invade your eardrums at very moment. It’s all more than a little too much.

This may not have been an issue if the characters and story we were observing were compelling. The films confounding screenplay is never particularly interesting when Wan actually utilises downtime. Not only happy to rip off nearly every cliché in the book, the films cardboard characters have to utter some extremely tin eared dialogue. A conundrum soon appears. We have a film that’s often too loud to get the best of out of it, yet when it actually quietens down...it’s not worth listening to.      

Going back to the idea established in the second paragraph, films like Insidious: Chapter 2 seem to be catering to a generation who believe that true horror is how high the popcorn flies. The worrying aspect is not that these people dislike horror, but that the factors behind what is considered a scary movie have shifted. With one of the current arguments about cinema being the “second screen experience” and whether or not there should be special requirements for those who can’t be torn away from their social networks. It is no surprise that we are given a film with no real narrative, but exists to make the viewer jump to attention every other minute? 

Review: Drinking Buddies

Year: 2013

Director: Joe Swanberg

Screenplay: Joe Swanberg

Starring: Olivia Wilde, Jake Johnson, Anna Kendrick, Ron Livingstone

Synopsis is here:

It would be easy to consider Drinking Buddies as “mumblecore getting an upgrade, but that would be a little bit of a lie. It’s been just over a decade since this wave of naturalistic, low-fi films first appeared with 2002’s noble but uneven Funny Ha Ha. However the sub-genre has been making leaps and jumps with every other entry, and much of the mumblecore crew have made themselves known names. Greta Gerwig looks set to be a generation’s indie queen. Mark Duplass has been making me guffaw in The League and Lena Dunham?  Well let’s just say Girls may become one of the most important female driven series of the tweenies (is that what we call this decade?)

That said, Drinking Buddies is a large jump from my previous viewings of Swanberg’s earlier work. While you’d be hard pressed to find a U.K copy of Kissing on the Mouth, with its rawer than butcher’s meat look at sex and relationships, Drinking Buddies has the kind of gloss that will make less adventurous film fans feel right at home. The film also features a cast that just wouldn't be seen in Swanberg’s earlier films. Credit should go to Swanberg’s prolific work and plaudits here, as now his work can commend stronger, more accomplished actors for his work (Gerwig aside of course).

The cleaner aesthetic and cast are certainly a shock for a viewer who knows Swanberg for his smaller works and not necessarily for the better. Thematically Drinking Buddies is still the kind of white first world problems I find myself oddly attached to (Yet, I’m cold to Richard Curtis...go figure), but the jump from the rugged, D.I.Y feel, to something more mainstream is a large jump and a jarring one. Not everyone will have this issue, but what excited me so often about the mumblecore movement was how the messiness of the characters lives seemed mirrored within the aesthetic. The upgrade in style does not mesh as well as before. It may just be me, but something feels missing from the piece and I really believe it’s this. Then again my favourites of the sub-genre (In Search of a Midnight Kiss, Medicine for Melancholy) have a keener visual eye than perhaps Swanberg, who appears focused on the improv work between the characters.

Like many of the mumblecore movies I’ve seen, I do enjoy how characters interact and develop. The female characters in particular. While the men are often the schluby, slacker types that we often find everywhere in romantic media these days (note the perfectly cast Jake Johnson from New Girl), the women hold a sense of control and emotion that I always find appealing. They’re smart but not always right, emotional but not needlessly hysterical. I find that if I take a dislike to girls like Olivia Wilde’s Kate (the best performance I’ve viewed from the actress), it’s never for long and it’s mostly because they truly have an amount of control that doesn’t feel held by what we expect a female character should do.  Swanberg’s choice on a heavily improvised screenplay is effective. Emotional moments turn on a sixpence, even if not as strong as previously seen.  

Drinking Buddies does work, despite the shellshock of its more commercial aspects. There’s no doubt that there is something taken away from before and that the same roughness that had me drawn to these kinds of films is missed. It’s clear from the films affectionate look at fragile foundations of bosom buddies, that this is not Swanberg “selling out” in the conventional sense. Yet give me a store brought video camera and a few actors that don’t nail there scenes as well as Anna Kendrick does, and I feel there would be something even stronger. 

Review: Magic magic

Year: 2013

Director: Sebastián Silva

Screenplay: Sebastián Silva

Starring: Juno Temple, Emily Browning, Micheal Cera

Synopsis is here

A film that is destined to polarise the audience with its abstractness, Magic Magic is a film that will take people to the brink of irritation or sympathy but if it gets one thing right, it’s the fact that it doesn’t wait around for you to get your head around it.    

Set in Chile, Magic Magic is a thriller plays with cultural arrogance in the same vain as Repulsion or Frantic, yet seems influenced by the fractured psychology of Polanski’s most famous features also. Here we have a woman who is culturally and emotional isolated amongst a group of people too juvenile and ignorant fully understand what may be at play. The film can feel distant as there’s no sign posts telling you where to go, but even when the film treads on the line of obtuseness, the basic aspects of the narrative is simple enough to follow.  As a whole the film doesn’t pound its note as hard as Aronofsky (Black Swan) or hold the pomp of Von Trier (Melancholia), but it understand simple dreads and fragile emotions with an assured deftness of touch.

The island, in which the film is set, becomes the largest signifying aspect, morphing into a physical and emotional quarantine for the pale faced Alicia (a brilliant Juno Temple). One scene has Alicia out with her new found friends as they go cliff jumping. All except Alicia are able to jump in. She is quite literally unable to take her feet of the island, a place which has brought forth a huge amount of disconnection to her. Like Polanski at his best, the island slowly shapes itself into a prison.  Cinematographer Christopher Doyle takes centre stage here, capturing the off kilter mood with near perfect composition, and shooting the landscape in such a way that even nearby animals take on ominous presence with their gaze.

The films main strength is in how it maintains its tone throughout. The ambiguous nature of the film is kept in balance due to Temple’s fragile performance. It becomes apparent that the film subtly changes from a more conventional thriller with horror tropes into a subtle cry for help. We are once again seeing yet another “delicate woman in trouble” and Magic Magic doesn’t reach the same heights as the likes of Amer, Black Swan or Carrie But Temple keeps us engaged throughout. Having such strong casting in place, makes the “woman in peril” such a sticking point in cinema.

Cast-wise; it will very likely infuriate more casual viewers that the film cares little about the fact you may know these actors from Harry Potter, Superbad or otherwise. That said I'm not shocked to see Emily Browning in this considering her work in The Uninvited/Sucker Punch. Michael Cera does well with a one note performance.  

The pacing is a little wayward and the film doesn’t really push anything in the way of originality. However Magic Magic is a nightmare film which unsettles well as it toys with the lead’s fractured state. Magic Magic will only really turn on those with a particular taste for these things. The films conclusion can possibly leave you aggravated, but only if you don’t fall for Doyle’s beautiful camera work and Temple‘s display.

Review: The Canyons

Year: 2013

Director: Paul Schrader

Screenplay: Bret Easton Ellis

Starring: Lindsey Lohan, James Deen, Gus Van Sant (for some reason)

Synopsis is here:

Dull is not a word that I would use to describe, Paul Schrader, Bret Easton Ellis or Lindsey Lohan and yet The Canyons is a subpar piece that can only be summed up by that word. Ellis’ twitter spats; Lohan’s drug hell or Schrader’s upbringing would bring more interesting tales to our attention. What we have here is an over egged piece of softcore trash gussied up to try and be more interesting that it actually is. Don’t look at me as if I dislike trash. I remember recording Wild Things onto VHS tape. I was around when Sky Movies seemingly had all there shoddy thrillers before Channel 5 moved in. I’d be happy if The Canyons had a shred of the schlocky fun that some of those films had. Unfortunately it’s a turgid mess.

We open to a montage of disused cinemas, possibly alluding to the decline of cinema, perhaps it’s aiming at an ideal even loftier. It doesn’t matter as the film never really brings the point home. If The Caynons was able to transplant its love for architecture on to its characters, we’d have something tangible to grab on to. But what can we say about the people that we follow in this feature? Is there anything that they say or do that is worth our time? Ellis has often written about vapid, cynical people, but they've never been bland.

It’s easy to attack The Canyons for the sake of it, like so many people who do with popular celebrities that they claim to hate. But the film is truly a poorly constructed one, in a year where similarly sordid tales have been release with greater focus. I was not the biggest fan of Harmony Korine’s florescent nightmare; Spring Breakers, yet that film was at least well crafted in its execution of hedonistic emptiness. The Caynons makes even a basic shot reverse shot exchange feel like a chore.

The problem is; one can pick up on the films issues from the get go. With its limit budget, amateur actors and troubled lead actress, you get the feeling that pickups and reshoots would never be the order of the day. Far too often it feels like every shot taken is the first and only one. It certainly feels like the case with James Deen whose Bateman-lite character comes across as completely unthreatening. Deen’s enthusiasm does not match his talent and his graceless display seems to stem from a lack of direction more than anything else.  Compare Deen’s Christian to the disaffected gaze of Sacha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience and there’s a clear gulf in the quality.

But then again we’re dealing with a film in which Schrader, unlike Soderbergh, does little to play to the strengths of everyone involved. The juxtaposition of outrageousness and emptiness that looms over the work of Ellis is never utilised, while the voyeurism that litters Ellis’ works is also badly executed. But The Caynons is not really about that complexity. Its simplistic script is weak when compared to Ellis’ more popular long reads. Frustratingly, there’s nothing in the film that elevates it above its limitations.

You might have noticed I’ve said little about the films main draw, Lindsey Lohan. Mostly because there’s not that much to say. The actress has garnered praise elsewhere, but I found nothing of true interest in the role. Her face; now altered by surgery and caked with make-up captures the burnt out impression which her character needs for the role, but her actual performance gives very little. Much like the rest of the film, Schrader’s lack of control and Ellis’ poor script leave Lohan up the creek without a paddle.

  

Review: The Lone Ranger

Year: 2013

Director: Gore Verbinski

Screenplay: Justin Haythe, Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio

Starring: Johnny Depp, Armie Hammer, William Fichtner, Tom Wilkinson, Barry Pepper, James Badge Dale, Helena Bonham Carter

Synopsis is here:

I often dislike when film-makers and actors “defend” their movie, by attacking critical responses. I’ve often said that critics can do little to affect blockbusters like these. Any proud causal film-goer will say: “I’ll make up my own mind” or “I don’t need to be told what to watch” and it’s a somewhat true point.  That said, The Lone Ranger is a bit of an anomaly in this age of comic book branded blockbusters. Originally a radio play, the franchise’s most popular period was in the forties. Since then; a few cinematic and television adaptations have been tried, none have been successful.

The fact is, modern day westerns are not known for their financial potential, while the character of The Lone Ranger is not well known to those who fall into that golden age bracket that all studios are aiming for. The film-makers must have known what a risk they were taking. A $200+ million film in a genre which has had its fair share of problems in the modern age (find me five truly profitable westerns in the last 20 years); in a packed holiday season with better “known” franchises and characters. Of course...it’s easy to blame the writers.

However, I must say that the amount of venom over The Lone Ranger is; in my eyes, quite bemusing. Gore Verbinski has never been a director I’d line up around the block for and The Lone Ranger was never on my list of must sees, especially after the muddlesome Pirate sequels. Yet The Lone Ranger, for all its production and budgetary issues, is far more entertaining than it should be. Much like the much maligned John Carter, we have a film with its heart in the right place. It’s just a pity that said heart is hidden by the silver spoon that’s placed in its mouth.

Much of this is due to the film’s director, Gore Verbinski. Despite my misgivings about quite a few of his movies, Verbinski is craftsman who not only feels comfortable with large scale projects, but someone who enjoys that old fashioned flair of the films of yesteryear. The Lone Ranger continues Verbinski’s affinity for the traditional with a film that lovingly touches on the Westerns of the past. The films of John Ford and Sergio Leone are tactfully acknowledged while the story themes noted should remind fans of some of the time honoured classics that have come before.

Ironically, the oft mentioned budget is better handled than you may think. Not only is The Lone Ranger is at times beautifully crafted in its design, but it holds a type physicality that can only stem from a long list of stunt men as opposed to a large team of CGI designers. The film nearly turns itself into Meta commentary as many of the films elements become a metaphor of mainstream film making itself. The rise and fall build of the films thrilling action sequences and their practicality, its wholehearted lead and the genre itself are slowly becoming as mystical as the old west.  Much like John Carter (and Captain America for that matter), this is the kind of Sunday afternoon film that is slowly being replaced with the angst-ridden, constantly destructive, semi-anti heroes that are now more popular.

That said, those heroes often have better scripts and The Lone Ranger’s fussy plot and uneven pacing cause it to constantly trip over itself. Things like Tonto’s backstory and framing device (involving an aged Tonto telling the Rangers story to a child) are more thoughtful than you’d expect, touching upon the sad plight of the Native American against white America’s own desires. One of the film’s opening moments has an aged Tonto spooking the child. Watch the kid’s first reaction.  However; such moments are often too few and far between, and the films first hour is slow and extraneous. The needless double crosses of the pirate films are happily nowhere to be seen, but the films running time in contrast with the narrative content is at odds. Sorry to sound like a Total Film web list but I don’t believe the film needs to be as long as it is.

Such aspects take away from the fact that Armie Hammer is a more engaging straight man than Orlando Bloom and that Jonny Depp’s shtick isn’t too bad here.  Arguments about the films graphic content are understandable but seem minor in comparison to more successful material that have played with the edge far worse. There’s brevity about The Lone Ranger that makes it far more interesting than the external arguments about its cost. As annoying is it is seeing its stars blast critics for not “getting it”, I must say I can see why they’re mad. No one seemed to want to note the ambition. But then again, DVD’s haven’t left us yet. So there’s still time for the home audience.