Showing posts with label Marvel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marvel. Show all posts

Friday, 2 December 2022

Article: Making Promisies - Looking Back at The Pledge


While film Twitter indulged itself in yet another madding round of Marvel vs Scorsese discourse, I needed something to watch. I found myself settling on Sean Penn’s The Pledge. A detective thriller based on Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s 1958 novella of the same name.

In reading reviews of the film, I found opinions of some of my usual go-to writers veered wildly. Roger Ebert raved about the film. Reviewing it twice and placing it on his list of great movies. Mary Ann Johnston however despised the film. Disliking its ugliness and absurd climax. I had The Pledge on my watch list for the longest time. Put off by Penn’s frustrating 2007 feature Into the Wild. A film I’ve never returned to due to the lead character’s stubbornness. Something that pairs nicely with this film.  

On the Eve of his retirement, Detective Jerry Black (Jack Nicholson) finds himself caught up in a child murder case. Jerry makes a solemn promise to the victim’s mother (Patricia Clarkson) that he intends to find the killer. However, soon after the promise is made, the police apprehend an intellectually disabled native American (Benicio Del Toro) and consider the case closed after a botched detainment. Jerry isn’t so sure. After leaving the force, he decides to embark on his private investigation of the case, based on little more than his promise and a hunch. Very soon Jerry is triangulating the area of the crime with other cold cases. He’s buying gas stations which he mans, as he believes the killer may frequent there. Jerry also becomes acquainted with a single mother (Robin Wright) whose child would be the perfect next victim for the killer. Quickly they move in with Jerry and a mutual affection grows between the three. But it becomes hard to tell if he’s using the girl as bait. And what of the friendly god-fearing bachelor who befriends the girl? What is his motivation for all this?


The Pledge is very much a Sean Penn film. It is less a film of excess as it is a film of a muchness. At times the film wants you to see that it’s directed. With a capital, D. Be its indulgence in a multitude of visual tics to having known actors swinging for the cages despite only being in one scene. It’s a film with personality. And that personality is that of Sean Penn. He may not appear in any shot of the film, but each frame feels very much like the man making it. Much like the performances of Penn in his pomp, The Pledge wants you to know of its importance.

That’s not a bad thing. Despite a sense of indulgence, The Pledge is an absorbing quasi-procedural. One that lingers on like a bad stain. Perhaps this is because Penn has chosen a story created to purposely frustrate. Sneering in the face of the kind of exceptionalism that is often found in such crime dramas. Jerry is dogmatic in his obsession, and usually, we find this to be a good trait in our cop protagonists.  But much like the novella, the film is based on, the film undermines much of what we expect in detective fiction. That brilliant “cop logic” found so often within crime thrillers is greatly flawed. Obsession can be defeated. Often by chance.

The Pledge almost feels like a precursor to Bong Joon-Ho’s Memories of Murder (2003) and David Fincher’s Zodiac (2007). A crime thriller that debates that maybe such crimes aren’t sufficiently solved by a certain logic. That the puzzle may not fit together despite holding the right number of pieces. Investors of the film got nervous after another film they distributed (Battlefield Earth) sank like a stone at the box office. Because of this Penn was rushed to complete the film. Tom Noonan claims that there were still scenes featuring himself which fully rounded his character. And yet allows Penn to indulge in distracting edits and insert shots. But it also helps show up the flawed interior of its main character. Jerry’s intention to catch the killer is absurd. His reasoning is faulty. Yet it’s easy to be charmed into his search for justice. It’s often why such movies are watched.  

And there is a strong wish for deliverance here. The crime is brutal. Its grimness is on full display. The investigation into the murder is shambolic. Much like Memories of Murder, the chaos and contamination are deeply frustrating.  Nicholson’s subdued yet dominating performance as Jerry is a winning one. A man sees this one last job as a chance to preserve his sense of manhood and relevance. But the film also lulls and distracts. Disarming both Jerry and the audience. Spending ample time wrapped up in tiny-town America in such a way that it helps champion the madness of Jerry’s obsession.

It's a cheat to say that The Pledge is about mood over logic. Such a statement screams cop-out. Yet Penn’s film plays with the irrationality of it all. Mary Ann Johnson considered the film thoughtless. I feel the film knows what it’s doing. Consider the star-studded cast. Big players give gravitas to one-scene roles. Pushing past the craziness of it all. Micky Rourke steals a scene as a distraught father. This is one of his best performances. He’s barely on screen for 2 minutes. Helen Mirren appears as some sort of shrink at one point. It’s never fully explained who she is and why Jerry goes to see her. Yet the casting of such a commanding actor forcibly glosses over the fact. It’s easy to go with it. The same can be said for a small, despicable scene in which Jerry speaks to a local deputy (Costas Mandylor) about evidence over an assumed closed case. Mandylor is so brash and slimy that it’s easy to ignore the surprising judgement call he makes.

It doesn’t all work. Benicio Del Toro would probably not be given such a role as a mentally challenged Native American. It’s a role in which he puts his whole self into. But also reveals why Penn’s performance in I Am Sam (2001) is also so cringe-worthy. The additional bigoty that takes place within Del Toro's interrogation scene doesn’t help matters. Now 20 years on, there would probably be at least an actual Native American in such a role. Not that it would help the discomfort of the scene. And yet, it’s not as if we haven’t seen such ugliness in other crime thrillers. Again, this seemingly fuels aspects of exceptionalism and masculinity within the main protagonist. Playing on the idea that Jerry knows best. And that tragic circumstances would not have occurred if he was still allowed to lead.

But is that wholly true? Moments of The Pledge suggest that Jerry is already somewhat checked out. Lost to his promise to avenge a tragic case. From incredible deduction skills to possibly using those who are closest to him as bait. What makes The Pledge fascinating is how Penn draws out the despair. Playing down Nicholson’s usual charisma to give a grim poker face which still tells us too much. This is a man who should fold his hands. The film decides against the easy route of gun fights and car chases. Rooting with this broken man’s blinded obsession and what he may do. With things being pushed to the brink. Of course, this makes the film's final moments even more haunting. The Pledge finishes on a note that gives no comfort or answers. Just the grim hand of chance at play. It’s a disorientating finish. One that as stated previously is rightly absurd. But it’s the right finish for this movie. Because life is absurd. And we perhaps should not make such bold promises when fate decides all.


The Pledge is currently on Netflix at the time of writing.

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Thursday, 20 September 2018

Article: The Marvellous Number Game


The discourse is dead. Long live THE DISCOURSE. Only a day after a rather needless spat allegedly on the idea of film critics and class, we are slapped in the face by the new Captain Marvel trailer and the unbelievably "spicy takes" which come with it. Below is the trailer and the very strange reaction that’s been gained by one person:









Melissa McEwan, editor in chief of Shakesville.com, a progressive feminist blog decided that after counting the amount of dialogue uttered by characters within the trailer, the fact that Samual L Jackson's Nick Fury had more lines than Brie Larson's title character was a clear reason to call shenanigans. Never mind that the trailer is clearly set up in a way to provide the character an air of mystery by one of the characters which helped formed the glue of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  The sheer fact that a man had more lines than a woman in her own trailer was contemptuous. When the tweet was queried by a fan, their well meaning arguments were dismissed as appalling. Because even though the film may not even have its runtime figured out yet, Marvel must do better because sexism.

To question the methods of populist films is something that pop culture writers should critique and provide insight. Screen time and the vocal representation of gender and minority characters should most definitely be notified. Captain Marvel comes in after the Warner Bros hugely successful Wonder Women and as Marvel Studios’ first female-led superhero feature, it’s a film with very high, very particular expectations.

However, the age of twitter takes, instaopinion and microanalysis has created a platform of dubious, broken narratives that look to derail movies before they even get a chance to be watched. This quick take tweet comes across as one example. I have no doubt that Captain Marvel's movie will have Brie Larson's Carol Danvers character front and centre, yet McEwan hot take is so obnoxious that a person like myself is more switched off by her than an apparent meagre word count. Melissa's fans have highlighted her as a smart and insightful writer, whose writing on feminism is worth reading. However, it only takes one thing to switch someone off. For McEwan, it’s the bizarre idea that Captain Marvel will be about Nick Fury after counting the words to a two-minute trailer. For me, it’s the idea that something so myopic is worth being outraged about. Especially if the writer is unapologetically doubling down. 

At the same time, another Twitter member, whose name isn’t really worth mentioning decided to partake in some dubious trolling purposely designed to “trigger to snowflakes”. The “gag” involved some quick photo editing to change images of non-smiling Larson to display a cheesy grin. The idea? Female heroes should “smile more”. Despite the fact that male heroes are not asked the same thing. 

The problem is, both tweets land themselves in the same wheelhouse. Deliberating about the vocal representation of the main title character in a promotional advertisement designed not only to provide a broad description of the overall movie but to also proposes that we will need to actually see the movie to obtain the full picture, comes across as outrage for the permanently outraged. Good critiquing can be an entertaining as well as a thoughtful process, whereas ignorant hot takes such as these can suck the very joy out of those caught in the vortex. Just because we are progressive does not mean we aren't also ignorant at times. We must also think what chance does a film have if these are the battles we're looking to fight for?

I do not condone the vile insults which flowed from the thread soon after the tweet was sent, but I do find it eye-rollingly irritating to see a progressive feminist writer go down the route more used by the same faceless trolls who would be all too quick to lambast her. We all watch movie trailers. Characters you expect to have larger roles have significantly less to do. Scenes are rearranged and chopped, and in a situation like Captain Marvel, it’s no surprise that a character of the universe who is familiar to the audience would “take centre stage” in order to introduce a character.  

An interesting opinion that came up (that I'm not sure I would ascribe to) is that the thought is yet another example of "white feminism" in which the idea of Jackson’s Nick Fury, despite being a Marvel character with the most number of info-dumps, should be subdued so the pretty white girl should have more lines than the POC character no matter the situation. Once again highlighting the problematic issues that have dogged the current generations debates of Intersectionality and whether people really care about minorities. For the most part, I think most people do.  

Comments such as McEwan’s feels less like a sharp insight and more like snide comments in an out-of-place framework. Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa has no words in the first Black Panther trailer. Most of which is of two white characters talking about where the character is from as opposed to the character himself. The original spider-man trailer (pulled for its use of the Twin Towers) not only has a wordless Spider-Man but a Spider-Man who doesn’t turn up until late on into it’s very short run time. Due to the nature of the 1989 Batman film, Jack Nickleson has far more play than Michael Keaton. Such examples make McEwan’s comments feel more like the so-called manufactured outrage, that certain groups love to claim progressive indulge in.

As the online culture wars rage on we see more tools and projects which help us engage with the media around us. Methods such as The Bechdel Test as well as Every Single Word Spoken project (which deal with tally lines of dialogue spoke by minorities) for example are particularly helpful with emphasising marginalisation. However, they rightly can come under criticism of being utilised as complete cultural barometers for films. Amusingly, the Captain Marvel trailer is of course great news for black African American’s as Jackson occupies so much of its word count. Of course, these methods of evaluating those who are maligned are effective when used correctly and in the right context. Like within a whole feature for instance. 

Knee-jerk reactions like McEwan’s only muddy waters. Going through the thread, the tweets did nothing to engage any real debate or concern. It did, however, do lots to agitate those with cartoon faced avatars as well as many black and white feminists who seemed pissed that a female writer with a large following is needlessly dumping on Marvel’s first female feature for no other reason than the word count. Speaking of which. This post has gone on way too long. So how about some trailers to finish?   




Tuesday, 22 August 2017

Review: The Mummy


Year: 2017
Director: Alex Kurtzman
Screenplay: David Koepp, Christopher McQuarrie, Dylan Kussman,
Starring: Tom Cruise, Annabelle Wallis, Sofia Boutella, Jake Johnson, Courtney B. Vance and Russell Crowe.

Synopsis is here:

It's too easy to hate Tom Cruise. I've always enjoyed the man myself. Despite his rather obvious array of tics, Cruise's charm has always been my case for him rather than against him. I find that the animosity towards him often stems from folk who are my age or were just a little too young to get into the young maverick hype of the 80's. The Cruise from the turn of the millennium, the Cruise we see now is one where more attention was paid to his religion. His private life seeped into his persona more and the looming weirdness (along with one or two less than appealing movie choices) became the Cruise we recognise more. A shame. As a movie star, the man has it. Or rather had it in the case of the mummy, a rather pitiful attempt to rebrand some old gear under the new sparkly cinematic universe guise. Why? Because Disney/Marvel.

Thanks to Marvel’s ability to create an expansive universe for their media, we now have the likes of Universal trying to catch the fever. What do you do when you have all the classic monsters under your trademark? Shove them all into one great big “cinematic universe” and wait for the dollars to roll in. If you can grab a well know star whose shine is a bit scuffed. Then quids in! Who wouldn’t want to see some like Cruise rise to the occasion, despite plying his trade in the well received and successful Mission Impossible films? No pitfalls to be seen here. Mostly because the executives have huge dollar signs for eyes now.

Unfortunately, Cruise is the main component as to why this film doesn't sit right with me. It's not the weird jokes about his sexual prowess. Despite being in his mid-50's the film is quick to inform you his youthful vigour in the sack with markedly younger women. The issue is that Cruise with his demeanour and tics, never fully gels with the material. The 1999 version of The Mummy, the best-known version, has a strong sense of scale, style and wit about itself. It's location and timeline is well observed and give the film the right mood in which to absorb it. Bravo to Stephen Sommers. No seriously.

This Mummy Movie confoundingly spends its time in modern-day London with Cruise desperately trying to grasp at the fountain of youth. When we look at the silver fox actioners of Liam Neeson, we may be aware of his age, but the films often do well to at least try and cater to the situation. This had me screaming for A: Sidekick Jack Johnson to be the lead. He's more than capable. B: An actual film of the video game Uncharted which would feel far more relevant than this hasty cash in.

What we have now is a modern-day mess about an Egyptian mummy buried in Iraq (LOOK! RELEVANCE!) which spends most of its time in London, featuring a leading star who doesn’t appear to understand that his relevance has altered with his age. Cruise’s desire to perform his own stunts is as always very commendable (especially since his recent injury) and scenes show hints of what made him an interesting presence. However, this is a rather mundane blockbuster starring an A-lister who’s trying to portray a man whose twenty years younger than he is. Unlike the likes of Live, Die Repeat (2015) and the later additions of Mission Impossible franchise, in which Cruise becomes more of a vessel for those around him, Cruise spends his time looking more dead-eyed than the CGI grotesques which populate this drab affair.

To be fair, it’s not as if director Alex Kurtzman doesn’t attempt to make this summer diversion appealing. The central aircraft crashing set-piece would be more astonishing if it had not seemed so heavily borrowed from Christopher Nolan’s bag of tricks. Despite the criticism aimed towards him, the inclusion of Russell Crowe may be grown worthy in consideration of the so-called “dark universe” but comes with a scenery chewing performance which at least seems in sync with the pulpiness that made the 1999 Mummy so attractive.

Now we’re given a film which like many recent summer films of its ilk, is more interested in what happens in the next film than the present one. The Mummy finishes with a finale so anti-climactic that one may ask why they even bothered. Then again, when you’ve owned the rights something for so long as Universal has with The Mummy, you remember you don’t really need to answer that question.

Monday, 29 May 2017

Review: Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol 2

Director: James Gunn  
Screenplay: James Gunn
Starring: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Vin Diesel, Bradley Cooper, Michael Rooker, Karen Gillan, Pom Klementieff, Elizabeth Debicki, Chris Sullivan, Sean Gunn, Sylvester Stallone, and Kurt Russell.

Synopsis is here:

After the first Guardians of the Galaxy, I remember being placed under interrogation for not proclaiming my undying love for the first film. To not place the film in you top ten of the year/all time, meant there was something wrong with you. I remember sitting at a BBQ and trying to explain that I found the first film to be rather forgettable. People could bend their head around it. Why wasn’t I like everyone else? Why didn’t I fall into line like a loyal foot solider?

I enter Guardians Vol 2 with a sense of optimism, despite my quiet apprehensions towards the approach towards the modern franchise. Again Guardians is quick with the gags, packed with set pieces and the characters still have a lot of colour (set aside how it leaves its female leads floundering). These come in thick and fast and yet this also does well to remind me that narratively, I found Guardians Vol 2 a haphazard affair. One pivotal point has a character ask why doesn’t (redacted Guardian name) want to be special. Said Gaudian obliges with an answer that basically suggests that he wants to conform like everyone else. This should really play in the mega-franchise world, where passive protagonists are simply issued with extraordinary powers and ushered to be “special” merely because they are. This sits uncomfortably within Guardians Vol 2. Our characters are meant to be a certain type of renegade. Why are they so down with a certain type of conformity?

Much like the first film, Guardians Vol 2 works best when it knocks out silly visual gags (the opening fight without Groot is wonderful) or when it’s more secondary characters get their time to shine (I really love Bradley Cooper’s voice work again). However, the films main plot point, which drearily comments on fatherly sins, feels dry and uninvolving. Gunn’s visuals capture of the world punctuates the bold colourful landscapes with neatly captured moments of isolation but struggles with a screenplay which does little to excite.

The whole thing does little to carry any weight. This is a creeping feeling that film writers get with a lot of modern mainstream fare, but certain features make it hard to make a fighting case against this. Guardian Vol two is not an exception. The secondary antagonists are considered so perfect genetically, that they do not go into battle, they fight via automated space drone which is controlled like a video game. It makes a cute gag but eliminates feeling even more that the CGI hordes that litter other comic book movies. A shallow criticism, but one that feels valid to a film in which it’s anti-heroes bode no real consequence. Hell, they want to be family, just like us.

This is, of course, a family who wish to kill in glorious slow motion (even the baby!) to 70’s pop classics a la Tarantino. Again, this probably wouldn’t be a bad thing if Guardian could drop its 12a rating and really let loose, but alas no. Guardians titters perilously between gleefully subversive (was that a sly S&M joke just then?) and tonally frustrating. We might be a little so happy to see Baby Groot become a killer so easily for instance. These guys are badass but bloodless. These are bandits that just need to be hugged. Amidst all this, there’s still a feeling of incompleteness about proceedings. Everything rumbles on with the knowledge that this is (again) leading up to the next episode, so there’s little time to really take on board what’s happening. In-depth analysis on if a baby plant should care about its sins maybe far-fetched, however, the film’s more prominent relationships also feel short changed. There always feels like there’s more to say about some of the dynamics at play. Every character gets their time to quip and wisecrack, and they do so with gusto. It’s just hard not to wish for a little bit more in their development. There’s little to unpeel, which something like Guardians may not really need as a summer flick, but for this writer, again, there’s no real desire to go back for a second viewing. Easter eggs are fine for the well initiated, but they may not work for everyone.  

So again, I brace myself for the BBQ inquisition. More probing about why I don’t conform and indulge in killer Baby Groot like everyone else. I’ll probably come up with a cumbersome analogy of a certain fruit-named company, which asked everyone to “think differently” before drowning the market quite considerably with its slightly varied but very similar toys. I’ll bemoan that we all think differently like everyone else. Like Guardians Vol 2, which rebels with one eye on its parents (think Disney). Then I’ll continue with my plate of special recipe wings.

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Review: Assassin's Creed

Year: 2016 (U.K release date 2017)
Director: Justin Kurzel
Screenplay: Michael Lesslie, Adam Cooper, Bill Collage
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, Jeremy Irons, Brendan Gleeson, Charlotte Rampling, Michael K. Williams.

Synopsis is here:

2016 is dead, and therefore we can now look forward to the cinematic pleasures that 2017 should bring. I decided to start this year by trying to embrace a much-maligned sub-genre of cinema: The Video Game movie. Justin Kurzel’s Assassin’s Creed is the umpteenth attempt to bring a decent video game feature to fruition, and like so many of these dubious adaptations, relegated to cult status only appealing to those with morbid curiosity, this film stumbles and fumbles its way to conversation. It’s easy for film writers to mock these films as easy targets, however, in watching Assassin’s Creed, you realise that these films don’t really help themselves.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before on this blog, but I’m of the strong belief that video game adaptation needs a product managing executive in the way of Marvel’s Kevin Feige. Someone with a decent knowledge and love for the product at hand and whose acumen is clearly more than the bottom line. Assassin’s Creed is a film that understands that it used to be a video game but hasn’t got a clue on how to become a movie. Midway through the film, protagonist Cal (Fassbender) loudly exclaims “what the hell is going on?!” and we feel the same.  

Poor Michael Fassbender. This is a fully committed performance to something that only requires half of his skill and talent. Assassin’s Creed is a beautiful nothing. A film with a three-person (credited) screenplay which is happy to screw up any stakes by introducing factors which hold no risk to the protagonist. It’s all very good that Kurzel’s visuals are reminiscent of the game, and they appear as organically as they can in a film as nonsensical as this one, but once again, like Silent Hill (2006) before it, we’re given a film which thinks that plotting a film like the game it’s based on is the right way to go. It’s not. The film’s convoluted storyline is written with an eye to appeasing video game fans, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it has. However, Assassin’s Creed terrible McGuffin (an apple which holds the genetic code to free will) never feels worth the billions that the film’s antagonists have spent trying to obtain it.

Then again, the film does very little with its heavily talented cast to make anything worthwhile. Kurzel’s film has the likes of Marion Cotillard, Jeremy Irons and Charlotte Rampling joylessly muttering plot exposition, but gives them very little to do other than stand around and look sombre. All the action is given to Fassbender who gives it his all but is placing all his energy into thanklessly dull action sequences, which hold no actual risk until it’s omishambolic climax.

Praise should go to Kurzel and cinematographer Adam Arkapaw for once again bringing a keen eye to the visuals of the film. This is the best-looking video game adaptation by far, and if there would be a reason to ever re-watch Assassin’s Creed, it would be for an audio commentary by the two on the look of the film. However, let’s think about what I just typed there. I’d happily watch this film again if there were other people talking over the film's risible dialogue.


There’s very little to recommend here. If a character exclaiming “Leap of faith!” with no actual relevance to the viewer unless they’ve have knowledge of the source material excites you, then have at it. If not, I would ask you to consider just sticking to the games instead as they’re far more fun. In fact, I’m sure you could jump on twitch and watch someone play one of the games. It would be far more involving.  

Monday, 8 August 2016

Review: Suicide Squad


Year: 2016
Director: David Ayer,
Screenplay: David Ayer
Starring: Will Smith, Jared Leto, Margot Robbie, Joel Kinnaman, Viola Davis, Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Ike Barinholtz, Scott Eastwood, Cara Delevingne.

Synopsis is here:

I left the screening of Suicide Squad, took a large breath and let out an almighty sigh. Is this what’s causing all the fracas? This humdrum blockbuster? I feel we as filmgoers need to get our priorities straight. This summer, I’ve watched fans claim critics gain payment for back Disney and Marvel. I’ve rolled my eyes at the number of hot takes asking why Ghostbusters (2016) became the most politicised movie of the summer, possibly the year. Now, I watch fans once again attack film critics about disliking a movie (again this started before they even saw it themselves) as if there’s some sort of evil conspiracy. Let’s be clear. There isn’t.

Amusingly, at the time of writing, news reports have announced that the Warner Brothers feature has made such a killing at the box office that it’s broke an August record.  So there’s really no need to pile on film reviewers because most people would rather listen to marketing anyway. Reviews for these movies “made for the fans” are not for fans to read. They’ve already paid for their midnight screening ticket. Therefore, what we see is a bunch of faceless fans attack and insult movie lovers because they do not agree with what’s been written. Because of this, the story becomes about the “fans” and not about the movie itself, which in turn gains an inflated sense of self because even bad news is good news.

Suicide Squad isn’t the worst movie I’ve seen, but it’s not worth remembering either. Again, like many mainstream movies of recent times, the get behind it is more about knowledge of the brand and good marketing than movie mechanics. This is a film with a mid-level video game plot, needless characters and little building of stakes or relationships. Half of the films interactions are quips, while much of the rest is plot exposition. It’s not a film that feels organic in how it’s narrative or characters come about. At times, it feels like a rough cut than a final draft of a film. However, it has Harley Quinn (a spunky Margot Robbie) so therefore you should like it.

This annoys me. Simply because there’s more than enough elements in Suicide Squad to be better than it was. So often the film reminded me of Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel/Batman vs Superman, in that all three films are trying to remind viewers that they’re comic book movies and framing them as such. The way certain edits are slapped together wouldn’t feel too out of place in a three frame panel of a graphic novel. If I’m correct on this, then what Snyder, Ayer and the DC/Warner Brothers tribe are doing is really quite noble. The dark anti-hero angle matches up with the sombre take on these DC heroes and is a suitable contrast against the more colourful Marvel film. I enjoyed the visuals of the film (I never found them to be too dark) and I really liked the sly references to the likes of Watchmen as well as one or two of the films Easter eggs, which seem to be less shoehorned in than what we saw in Batman vs Superman (2016).

It’s important to realise however I felt this for the smaller “surprises” as opposed to the great, big whopping open air secret of Jared Leto’s Joker (the worst live action rendition in current record), or the extended cameo of a certain caped crusader whose distracting appearances seem to do little but highlight that we’re watching a DC/Warner film than anything else. It’s not impossible to cut both Batman and the Joker from Suicide Squad and miss very little, yet the marketing has done much to constantly notify people of their presence.

Instead what did get hacked to shreds is the film’s tone and pace, which ranges from shots that feel cut a fraction too short to the film’s actual (bobbins) plot and characters never really gelling the way they should. A frustration because Ayer gains some good performances from his cast. I’m reminded that while Will Smith never took up Tarantino's ask to be in Django Unchained (2012), he had the charisma to do in his sleep. Robbie’s spritely display as Harley Quinn again shows that this is an actress with presence. The character is a shot in the eye for decent gender politics, but I’m not looking for that in a film about these types of villainous anti-heroes. Robbie and Smith are bright sparks because they do a lot with so little and give the film some semblance of heart. Kudos should go to Viola Davis who should be given more to do as Amanda Waller, and Jai Courtney who from this performance as the stupidly named Captain Boomerang, should be seen in more comedic scumbag roles.

This leads us to the film’s comedy in general which is not only hit and miss (I did laugh more than the rest of the audience) but seems to be relatively unneeded. The rumours of the film firstly having a darker cut before being reined back in by the studios after the reaction to Batman vs Superman are key to the films misshapen tone. Do I need a film called Suicide Squad to make me chuckle like a Marvel film? Not necessarily. Jokes fly over the audience in a way that made me cry structure rather than with laughter. Then again, I’d rather The Joker not feel like he could easily turn up in the sequel to The Mask (1995). Again, when we consider the tone of the film, what is Leto’s character about? He’s not funny, but he’s also not that scary or sadistic. Sticking out like a sore thumb from a different movie. Moments like this happen once or twice with Suicide Squad.

I tried hard to like Suicide Squad, but it’s a film set up incorrectly for a range of bad reasons. It gives us truckloads of introductions, but because the DC universe seems to be set up more tail end first, it’s difficult to give a damn about these villains. It’s a film about violent anti-heroes but like Batman vs Superman, it knows that it can’t get “too dark”, so stumbles towards PG-13 while watching Deadpool live it up with the hack and slash. This is despite having a tone and premise which suggests otherwise. It is yet ANOTHER superhero movie with a rubbish, uninteresting villain and a city being destroyed by a blue twirling sky portal type thing. Is there a wholesale on these things?  

This is unfortunately what happens when you watch a studio try and play catch up. If fans want to attack critics for disliking the films they want to see, then fine. The fact is, it is all too easy to imagine a parallel universe in which Warner Brothers is setting up a Crisis on Infinite Earth two-parter, after Justice League 2 made over a billion at the Box Office. Marvel? Well, they didn’t get going after a badly judged Guardians of the Galaxy idea. It’s not a disliking of the premise or the comic book company, but the hesitant concern and meddling with the people making the films. The worse thing about watching a film like Suicide Squad is that for all the fans’ anger, the film does little to illustrate just why the source material is so loved. All that the Suicide Squad movie has done is remind me that the comics are probably more involving.

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Review: Captain America: Civil War

Year: 2016
Directors: The Russo Brothers
Screenplay:Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely
Starring: Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Don Cheadle, Jeremy Renner, Chadwick Boseman, Paul Bettany, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Rudd, Emily VanCamp, Tom Holland, Frank Grillo, William Hurt, Daniel Brühl.

Synopsis is here:

Let’s get this out of the way now. The comparisons of Marvel’s Civil War and Warner Brother’s Batman vs Superman were always going to be made from the moment they were announced. In the upcoming weeks there will be think pieces and hot takes galore about which of these films “won” based on box office takings and opening weekend reactions. I’m sure twitter arguments will be abound about which is the “better” film. Nature of the beast.

After leaving the early bank holiday screening of Captain America: Civil War, I found I had no qualm on my position on the matter. Quite simply, Marvel seems to understand its audience better. Bitter DC Fans can complain about critics being “paid off” all they want. Such talk is nonsense. Civil War isn’t the best Marvel film. Heck, I don't even think it’s the best Captain America flick. However, in terms of balancing it’s characters and telling an engaging story, Civil War wins the so called battle.

It certainly helps that we’ve now spent nearly a decade getting to know many of the characters that appear in this feature over the course of various entries. However, this alone highlights the assured vision that we watch on screen. Civil War doesn’t hold many surprises, but Marvel’s control of their brand, while dulling a certain sense of wonderment when watching a blockbuster (do we honestly think ANYONE is at risk here?), has created an established and expansive universe that understands and maintains its tone, and is clear with its character motivations. Both Civil War and Batman vs Superman talk about “who watches the watchmen” and collateral damage. Both only really use them as Macguffin’s for beating the hell out of one another. It is Civil War, however, that understands its character between the characters and its audience. The relationship built from the previous films, gives Civil War more grounding, and yet, when characters debate and argue, you do not feel lost in mindless manusha. A complaint found in Batman vs Superman was simply “why were they fighting?” Civil War never has the same issues. We see the differing ideologies and their clashes as clear as day. There’s no need for a longer cut or after the fact articles to gain understandings which should have clarity within the theatrical narrative.

This doesn’t stop Civil War from being a flawed piece. On the contrary. We are now at the point where these films merely press on with their stories, less like a grand adventure, but more like a cosplayed soap opera. Civil War gives us the truly tortured Tony Stark so clearly missing from the likes of Iron Man 3 (2012), as well as hinting on budding personal relationship which may or may not come to pass in future instalments. This is fine if there was a solid feeling of these ongoing journeys actually reaching a destination. Civil War, like so many Marvel movies, are good at hinting at more to come. Tom Holland’s sprightly performance whets the appetite for a new Spiderman film. We’re finally getting Robert Downley Jr’s Tony Stark pulling towards some new ground with the character. Scarlett Johansson’s work as Natasha/Black Widow keeps going under praised and I could easily sit through the adventures of many of the characters that appear. Especially the ones who are female or black.

Despite this, I’m also clambering for a sense of true closure, or at least a villain that can truly keep up with the multitude of running, jumping mega heroes. What plays out in Civil War is emotional and at times satisfying, but to only to a certain level. The Buck Rogers TV serial-like method of these films enables a feeling of being fed on a decent burger yet never feeling full. Notice I haven’t yet mentioned much of Steve Rogers (A still wonderfully stiff jawed Evans) himself? That’s because much like Superman, he’s been pushed to the side to accommodate everything else that needs to tie to brand Marvel. The main reason the Captain America movies appealed was because of Roger’s character. The man out of time. The hero who doesn’t like bullies. That strong moral belief. Such elements haven’t disappeared completely, but they have to make way for Ant-man, Black Panther, The Vision, Scarlet Witchthe list goes on.

The Russo’s however, provide a decent job of trying to balance all these strands out. No character feels as shoehorned in as the characters did Batman vs Superman. Marvel may hold a certain blue print that many of these films need to adhere to, but The Russo’s have shown how well they can operate around Marvel’s slightly restrictive template, but do so with yet another film filled with tightly executed action, solid character beats and a vibrant sense of tone. Despite holding a certain amount of fatigue with comic book films, Captain America: Civil War still brings enough sound, fury and vibrancy to remain an entertaining piece. I can’t say that this long running film series is delivering any real shocks as before and the idea that one of their films; Infinity Wars, sounds more like a sadistic promise now that we’ve seen the studios long term plans. Nevertheless, as an enjoyable (albeit overlong) piece of fluff,  Civil War more than delivers.


Wednesday, 17 February 2016

Review: Deadpool

Year: 2016
Director: Tim Miller
Screenplay: Paul Wernick, Rhett Reese
Starring: Ryan Reynolds, Morena Baccarin, Ed Skrein, T. J. Miller, Gina Carano, Brianna Hildebrand Stefan Kapičić

Synopsis is here

Crazy, violent and crammed full of self-relevance and meta-humour, Deadpool, with its in your face snark and obnoxiousness, comes at the viewer as aggressively as its marketing. For the most part, it pulls its nonsense off with an entertainingly reckless abandon. It may not be Airplane! (1982), but looks to aim for the dizzying highs of The Zucker brothers joke ratios. Then again, noticing that Deadpool’s screenplay is credited to the writers of Zombieland (2009), you shouldn’t be surprised. If you happen to have a penchant for penis jokes, you’ll also be in good stead.

Deadpool’s love for smut, breaking the fourth wall and general piss-taking of the recent comic book genre is not only quite refreshing, but it papers over the fact that there’s little else in the film apart from this. While holding similar elements, it doesn’t push the bar of comic adaptations in the same way that Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini’s American Splendor (2003) manages. The latter movie shaped and warped art and life in a far more striking way. However, as a mainstream, superhero movie, Deadpool’s zaniness isn’t aiming for anything life affirming, and its fubar prat-falling helps distract from its tepid storytelling and blunt, uninspiring action.

Luke Owen’s recent article for Film School Rejects, touches on the idea that the film itself wants us to watch bad movies. Deadpool revels in snide side swipes of failed/poor comic book franchises (Green Lantern and X-Men Origins get a hefty brunt of the shade thrown). The main argument that Owen places across is that if you’ve not seen these poor cinematic entries, then Deadpool loses a certain amount of its edge. Others have noted that Deadpool does little to subvert comic book origin cliché and merely apes them. It is quite difficult not to be reminded visually/structurally of entries such as the sub-standard Spawn (1997) or non-comic book comic movie Darkman (1990) while watching Deadpool, among other films. It’s also difficult to ignore just how typical Deadpool is when the chimichangas aren’t being served.

Then again, Marvel Studios wishes you to read comics, watch T.V series and films in order for you to keep up with its chaotic timelines. Also, only now we’re getting into a position where new marvel characters won’t be set up with origin stories. The smirking, winking Deadpool clearly enjoys being part of that playground. It acknowledges its faults superficially, yet with a certain knowing charm. We are given nods to pop culture like Hello Kitty and The Matrix (1999) all the while bopping our heads to the specifically 80’s/90’s soundtrack, featuring the old school earworm Shoop by Salt n Pepa as well as Ruff Ryder favourite DMX’s X Gon Give It To Ya. Irony shouldn’t be lost on the fact that Wade/Deadpool is part of Team X in X-Men: Origins: Wolverine and is Weapon XI in that movie as well. It’s hard to see much of what it does as unintentional. There’s sometimes method to its madness.

It is hard to gain any sense of weight to Deadpool’s action sequences, which, despite their gore content, feel clunky more than anything else. Say what you like about Bryan Singer’s X-Men (Deadpool does often), but Singer at least gives us a memorable set piece in each film. Deadpool’s set pieces, merely mimics most of the comic book movies it parodies. Case in point, the film’s loud, crashing shipping yard climax, could easily feature in a number of previous Marvel films. As could the hum drum villains, although the opening credit sequence pretty slyly digs at Hollywood’s typical leanings when it comes to villainy.

Deadpool’s main strength is its cast chemistry and the rapid torrent of gags. Ryan Reynolds and Morena Baccarin are enjoyable together as is Reynolds and T.J Miller. The banter is juvenile and irrelevant, but the point of Deadpool seems to be that there’s little point other than juvenile irrelevance, something that does feel refreshing with the slightly disturbing knowledge of the sheer volume of upcoming comic book movies smacking our eyeballs. Deadpool’s fourth wall “knowledge” and childishness may not make it a superhero movie landmark, but it is a relatively amusing diversion.

Saturday, 16 January 2016

Article: The Year That Was: 2015

When we were hurtling towards the end of another year, I was politely asked by two online outlets, if I would be so kind to deliver a top ten list. After a brief rumination, I decided why not? I may not invest too much into lists any more, but the internet still wolfs them down like the sweet clickbait candy that they are. Remember who you're writing for, I guess.

Apologies for the slight snark. I mean no harm. However, since last year, I’m finding myself more interested in things I found in the year overall, rather than a scything down the favourites in order to separate the crop.

Subjects like sex and erotica had a torrid time in the few films I saw, which focused on them.  The over hyped, unevenly baked 50 Shades tried to sell vanilla sex scenes as more than they actually were (or could ever be), because whips and chains. Shades may not have been the total turkey man had thought (and secretly hoped). Its box office gross clearly showed that, be it hype, curiosity, friskiness or a mix of all three, there was an adult (mostly female) market to be exploited. It’s a pity that despite a rise in sex accessories, the film’s vanilla sex scenes do little to take it’s ideals of sensual escapism further.

The Arthouse scene, which has far less qualms in explicit material gave us Gasper Noe’s self-indulgent Love. A plodding, underwritten sex fest with a narrative of angsty Sundance aspirations. Noe’s shoe gazing feature not only pales in comparison when observing the trillions of gigabytes of internet porn (which deliver their cumshots with far more earnestness), but feels vastly inferior to mumblecore features of a decade ago. Lest we forget Lars Von Trier’s flawed saga Nymphomaniac (2013), which despite being also indulgent and overlong, at least attempts to say something greater about how our emotions conflict and contrast with our physical intimacy. Love’s narrative, give or take a few elements, wouldn’t feel too out of place in a line-up of overegged young adult features. 50 Shades may have been born from young adult fan fiction (Twilight), but Love’s self-conscious anxieties make E. L James’ opus feel like a heady brew of maturity.

Documentary Chemsex did its best to spread moral panic, while feeling light on facts. Important insights of isolation and community almost get lost between a vast mass of talking heads and stories, which never give us enough time to breathe. It’s main conceit; that sectors of homosexual males are mixing a deadly cocktail of drugs and unprotected sex, is so focused on one sector of Britain, it feels inconclusive and incomplete.

The winner for me when it came to any discussion of sex or sensuality within cinema, was Peter Strictland’s dreamily shot The Duke of Burgundy. The film comments on sex, kink and love with the type delicacy and emotion we should expect from erotica. The film’s Crown Jewel? It’s all woman cast, which help provide a fresh take on dominance, submission and obsession. Losing the need of the all-seeing, all-encompassing male gaze.

This brings me on to 2015 bringing forth some engaging features which give a positive engagement of the dreaded word of diversity. The films that lingered in my head, were often great with their commentaries and ideas of gender and race. Dear White People updated Spike Lee’s School Daze with a grander scope and little Do the Right Thing structuring. Straight Outta Compton was a blockbuster biopic, which did quite well in depicting N.W.A as a glossy, urban version of The Sex Pistols. The aforementioned The Duke of Burgundy and it’s all female cast, Carol, were all well put together. The 7th Fast and Furious once again revelled in its multi-racial cast and multi-million box office haul.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens illustrated organic progressive qualities, while Fury Road gave us a new, well rounded female hero wrapped within a Mad Max film. It’s important to remember that Fury Road’s white male director made the most of its female editor. Rebecca Ferguson’s covert agent in the fifth MI entry also helped the aims and intentions of the Internet film culture, if not the wider culture, in terms of gender.

It was, however, the Martian that I found to be the most warming and heartening in a world that's feeling increasingly isolating and dangerous. Now an Oscar nominated feature, it’s we are the world commentary may feel a little trite, but god damn it made the idealist in me smile.

Ryan Coogler’s (Fruitvale Station) Creed has made waves recently, revamping the Rocky franchise with an African American lead. I have yet to see it at the time of writing this, yet its solid word of mouth is showing us that both Coogler and Michael B Jordan may certainly have something to say in the realms of representation. The fact these aforementioned films with their successful attempts at bringing across diversity show that the passive white male hero can be joined by others quite easily. Just make the material compelling. It's important to realise that roughly around 500 Hollywood movies get released each year. The fact that The Huffington Post can only find 11 films with black cast members (not even leads) of that average, worth watching that's not even of the same percentage equivalent. You can see the frustrations. It's more troubling when we place into consideration that we're seeing artists break down the speaking parts of the POC cast by the minute. We don't a complete reversal of the casts. But we do need at least try and achieve the percentage representation.

I say this as social media and ignorance has seemingly helped warp the ideal of progressiveness on both sides. American cinemas felt it necessary to bulk up security for Straight Outta Compton for reasons that are quite transparent to people like myself. That said, things such as the push for Idris Elba to play everybody, or the internet outrage which sparks the moment a z-lister feels hard done by, are well intentioned but often feel short sighted. For me the push for more BAME filmmakers in a stronger position to create their own stories is far more important to me than forcibly seeing a POC become James Bond or fighting to get Ava DuVernay to do a Marvel film. Particularly when we see just how clear these franchise films run on a track. Coolger’s positioning into the Rocky franchise may hold a certain amount of transparency (all about the franchise Benjamins), but its success for both director and star may help open up new pathways for POC artists. The same certainly goes for Straight Outta Compton.

I have missed a load of films for the simple reason that either they've been smaller release that don't enter cinemas. Or mainstream fare that looks like tripe. Annoyingly, with the likes of Disney owning Star Wars, Marvel and of course, their own product. There's a bleakness that sometimes hovers over me like a dark cloud. Films that will look and sound the same, now dictate openings with such velocity, it can feel depressing. Avengers Age of Ultron did little to remain in my thoughts. Only really adding more characters to a larger film that doesn’t wish to end. Other franchise entries such as Spectre felt exactly like the name suggests; a ghostly re-tread of Bonds of the past with what little deviation gained from the earlier Craig movies being rubbed out. Franchise films are beginning to feel rushed and neglectful of their scripts. When Marvel and Disney release their timelines and release dates for their ongoing franchises. May mind was instantly cast back to When Alien 3 (1993) had a release date before a finished screenplay. There’s been many examples of this, although none stick out as egregiously as that one.

Yet now fan demand and the demands of commerce outstrip artistic creativity in mainstream cinema so perversely, it’s sometimes hard to see the forest for the trees. The Mamo Podcast gave the perfect description of the 2nd biggest film of the year: The good enough blockbuster.  Jurassic World is dumb, weakly scripted and spiteful, yet has enough branding and call backs in it for fans to be happy and the book with its palatable themes can be forgotten once more. A shame.

Also worrying was while Star Wars: The Force Awakens was a fun re-entry to a much loved cinematic world, it also felt like a re-polished Episode 4. A film with no real surprises (despite the cries of no spoilers), and an insurance that nothing will be really tampered with. Lest we upset fans by offering something new.

That both titles made a ton of cash with the audiences trading in the more solid storytelling of the previous films for the chance to hear the music, see the characters and feel like a child again is quite perturbing. Escapism is fine, but I wish these films would be scrutinised as much as other films which are just as fictional but don't have the nostalgia to lean on.

For all the issues the Sony hack delivered, isn't it funny that The Interview, the film that was called to be banned, still pooped out a cinema release, before cropping up on Sky a few months later? It is now widely available and not much happened about the hack since. Although a fair damage certainly hit Sony at the point of impact, like so much of our view of such events, everything was quickly forgotten. Meanwhile the revealing talk about race that came from some of the executives’ emails, including the dubious riff what Obama’s film tastes, help highlight why I’m not surprised at yet another Oscar whitewash year. I wonder if such attacks, along with the PS4 hack may become more familiar. Though how it will affect our entertainment is another story.

So we’re three weeks into the New Year with more franchise features and sequels to look forward to. In the past four weeks, we’ve lost four artists (Haskell Wexler, Alan Rickman, Vilmos Zsigmond and David Bowie) whose contributions to cinema will certainly inspire many for years to come. In light of my aforementioned ramblings, I certainly do hope so.  Film critics will of course lament where the medium of criticism is going. Soon after expect the same critics to attack audiences/other critics/filmmakers with cheap snark and not see the connection. Twitter will get angrier. Brands will amass more cash. But as long as the films get made and entertain, things will be interesting.

Saturday, 18 July 2015

Review: Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley’s Island of Dr. Moreau

Year: 2014
Director: David Gregory
Starring: Richard Stanley, Fairuza Balk, Hugh Dickson, Oli Dickson, Robert Shaye, Marco Hofschneider

Comparisons to Lost Soul, which details the making of The Island of Dr. Moreau, could easily be made to like football club Fulham FC’s recent history. What looks to be a decent project on paper slides descends too rapidly into relative obscurity after being abused with a multitude of poor decisions. At one point, both film and football team as a maniacal but proven manager take over, yet his old school ways do little to stop what is now a situation in free fall. Suddenly oblivion.

From a technical standpoint, Lost Soul says very little. It’s a standard T.V budget documentary with the usual set up of talking heads and archival footage. Nothing is too out of the ordinary. But the story. Oh, how the narrative unravels. The most fascinating things about documentaries about films that fall apart, is how they fall apart. Despite being made, The Island of Dr Moreau is almost like a group of people looking to purposely build a dilapidated household to live in. The worse thing is, we see the cracks appearing from the off.

The film sells Richard Stanley (Hardware, Dust Devil) as a once up and coming genre director, whose brush with Hollywood left him burnt. The film sets up a lot of time in displaying Stanley’s intelligence and eccentricities. It’s quick to make Stanley out as an unfortunate, yet likable soul who is nastily shoved out of his own mind bending creation. Despite this, the films set up belies not only the frustrations and anxieties of a studio, but also the difficult balance between art and commerce.

For sure New Line President Robert Shaye is a tad wrong to lump assumptions of Stanley’s love for sugary coffee as a warning sign for trouble ahead (has he not considered Hollywood’s illegal drug problems?). But it’s clear for all to see that Stanley’s outrageously creative ambitions would pose a difficult issue, once New Line actually saw an avenue for decent business. Seriously,  the concept art features a human-dog hybrid licking afterbirth from a genetically mutated human/animal baby. We’ve only now just got around to the idea of a Human Centipede and that’s clearly pretty niche.

Such documentaries become illuminating in the same way as soaps and reality TV. It’s easy to become engrossed in the gossip. And why not. Val Kilmar (at the peak of his stardom) is likened to a preppy high school bully. Fairuza Balk sets upon cross country trip away from production once she finds out about how Stanley is being treated. The reasoning for the trip being cross country? Her lack of geographical knowledge of Australia. We have Brando taking the art of trolling a production to Jupitar sized proportions. The piece de resistance? Well, just because Stanley was fired from production, doesn’t mean he left.

In watching Lost Soul, you realise just how plain some of our filmmakers come across now. The PR stranglehold over productions makes films like this a certain succulence. It’s clear to see that mavericks like Stanley (interest in witchcraft aside) are often considered best avoided by Hollywood. A quick look at the Marvel production line right now, highlights just how much a studio wants their creatives to toe the line (I write this on Ant-man’s opening weekend).

But when an eccentric slips through the ropes, and an inmate gets a chance to take over the asylum, it’s easy to see how they can become lost in a world where power plays and bottom lines become everything and your enemies may be the guys smiling for the camera. Stanley shows throughout that his creativity is in abundance, but his personality is one that simply doesn’t meld with the playboys of LA. Unlike Terry Gilliam, Stanley doesn’t show himself to be a director who wishes to defeat extreme weather.   

What Stanley does give us, though, is an unbelievably rich texture to a deeply unfortunate hot mess.  Unlike Troy Duffy’s aggressive bluster in Overnight (2003), Richard Stanley’s offbeat wit and creative prowess only makes one wish that he was able to stay in the game longer to see what he could have come up with. Sweet tooth or no.  



Sunday, 10 August 2014

Review: Guardians of the Galaxy

Year: 2014
Director: James Gunn
Screenplay: James Gunn, Nicole Perlman
Starring: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Vin Diesel, Bradley Cooper, Lee Pace, Michael Rooker, Karen Gillan, Djimon Hounsou, John C. Reilly, Glenn Close, Benicio del Toro

Synopsis is here

You have to give it to Marvel. They really know to market something. It’s been hard not to turn my head without a webspot, social network status or puff piece about the film flying towards my face. A film in which for many of its audience ($300 Million International box office in counting at the time of writing), had probably never heard of the source material it’s based on before its announcement. The word of mouth from said audience has been solid also. While things are looking good for the Guardians, I’m not sure the crew will be taking me to the Awesome Mix party they're clearly having for their efforts. As while I enjoyed isolated moments of James Gunn’s energetic blockbuster, the film as a whole never quite truly bowled me over.

In the binary, all or nothing age of the internet, this isn’t allowed and of course, the moment those words were read, the geeks have already decided against hearing me out/insulting me. For this viewer, however, Gunn’s film is so tailor made for a group of fans, they would never want to know, nor care, that the seams can be seen.

Many of my reservations stem from the film's narrative, which cleverly avoids milling around with origin stories, but quickly slips into being here before territory. We’re once again witnessing an all-powerful glowing McGuffin which an underwhelming megalomaniac seeks. Our gang of heroes will have to do battle with said megalomaniac and his bunch of near infinite cannon fodder. Preferably climaxing in a third act where most of the action will take place in the skies. Yes, that sounds cynical and yes, I’ve enjoyed this Marvel set up previously, but Gunn’s moments of irrelevance are such a breath of fresh air, I found myself acutely aware of the more familiar and laboured.

Guardians work best when Gunn and the screenwriters meld the silly and the sweet. Gunn, who was probably best known for the twisted cult hit; Super, before this, is particularly adept at taking the slightly outrageous and fusing it with a certain amount of warmth that others wouldn’t be able to coax. This is an ex Troma director with a web series named PG Porn, so it’s no surprise that the film's main strengths stem when the films at its most preposterous.  Did I just see a walking, talking tree grows a flower out his hand for a little girl? My heart melted slightly.

As mentioned before, the film’s quirky subversions illuminate the film well. Take a WWE wrestler who started out as a silent enforcer and give him the grandest vocabulary of the bunch. Have Vin Diesel, who is known for his gravelly voice and get him to produce some of his best work with only three words. Lets have a star as handsome as Bradley Cooper steal scenes, not with his smile, but with a vocal performance as a racoon. These characters shine brighter than our Star Lord (Pratt) whose performance is full of fun, but not the second coming of Solo. This said I still rather Nathan Fillion’s Mal as my go to space rouge.  Once again Zoe Salanda shows her worth in her role as the most serious of the outcasts; Gamora. Despite looking like she should have a similar trajectory to Scarlett Johansson, we still don’t seem to hear enough about her.

Despite this there’s an irritable feeling that Guardians is gaining a high amount of praise despite holding similar issues that other modern blockbusters are reprimanded for. Reason being; look at Chris Pratt rapping to Eminem verses. It seems like the same go here to do this plotting that the Micheal Bays and Brett Ratners will be attacked for is fine in other movies due to brand charisma and PR charm and little else. The memes of Chris Pratt as Indy have already been doing the rounds, yet any of that first trilogy appeared to be more expressive (and economic) with their plots than what we see here.

The more interesting and seemingly less observed aspect of this space opera, however, is that it pushes to the forefront the fine margins that occur with Marvel and it’s more auteur orientated directors. I did wonder how much did Edger Wright and the studio couldn’t meet in the middle with their Ant Man vision. Whereas James Gunn’s amusing asides and reaction shots fitted in to the brand. It reminded me of just how difficult the balance is between filmmakers and the project. How everything is a fine tapestry. Guardians of the Galaxy has frayed edges, but they are more interesting than the body itself.


Monday, 6 May 2013

Review: Iron Man 3

Year: 2013
Director: Shane Black
Screenplay: Shane Black, Drew Pearce
Starring: Robert Downey, Jr, Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle, Guy Pearce, Rebecca Hall, Ben Kingsley, Jon Favreau

Synopsis is here:


NOTE: The following review contains what could be considered explicit spoilers. The film may have raked in all the money, but one must believe that not everyone visiting has seen it. 

"Since New York, everything changed" states an anxious and perturbed Tony Stark. It is a statement I wholeheartedly agree with. The billion dollar blockbuster which was The Avengers showed us just how big Marvel and Disney want to make these comic book franchises. The Avengers may be mostly based within the state of New York, yet in terms of the stakes, you can sense just how high they have become.

The Avengers also brought about a straight headed frothiness often forgotten in this kind of venture; happily reminding us that these comic books can not only manage grandeur but can do so while being bright, breezy and colourful. Iron Man 3 feels rather wearily like two steps back. Now, we have "final" entry that is little too romanced by The Dark Knight than it needs to be. While the second film didn't much the scale of The Dark Knight, so much of Shane Black's screenplay has the tinge of Nolan's adaptation, that the film near loses its own identity. However, there was a good chance of that happening anyway, as Iron Man 3 also harbours an awkward mesh of Disney and ultra violence that comes close to undoing the work that the first two films happily put forth. Yes, that's an admission that I didn't hate the second film.

My main issue with Iron Man 3, stems from its jarring tonal shifts. The film looks set to delve into the more curious aspects of Tony Stark, who is now having nightmares and panic attacks due to the events in New York. Unfortunately, despite the large amount of time Stark spends out of the suit, the film does very little to look at his demons effectively.

In fact Stark and friends feel the best of curing what ails him is with ludicrous and abrasive violence. The kill count of the good guys is not only high, but doesn't feel wholly justified when put in consideration to the villains badly realised motives. We should be fine with Iron Man blasting away indiscriminately because he spends lots of time with some latchkey kid during the second act. Stark's Real Steel moments suffer from the same kind of clumsiness that affects Spielberg at his so called worst, and yet due to the "cool" factor that comes with Robert Downley jr, this seems to be bypassed. The jump from Fisher Price my first mechanic to blasting fools with little regard becomes a harsh discourse.

I began to find the whole thing reductive. As a Disney/Marvel franchise feature, going dark could be problematic, but hiring Shane Black makes a clear statement of intent. Black's traits are everywhere for all to see, but are shoved awkwardly into a third feature which had its character under a different arc. One where its character evolved from selfish arms dealer to all into someone who begin to understand the responsibility he held in his blood stained hands. IM3 decides to effectively blast that away for some kick ass action scenes. That said, sky-diving set piece aside, the films spectacle is only intermittently engaging.    

 Iron man is far happier dulling my expectations by messing around with its main villain, The Mandarin. It's understandable that some of the more controversial and prejudiced aspects of the character needed to be exercised, but why after to the blood and sweat are we left with yet another white collar industrialist as the man behind the curtain? The series has cumbersomely come full circle.

On the positive side, the cast are still finely tuned to everything thrown at them. Downley Jr and Paltrow bounce off that fantastic chemistry that makes them such a fun couple to watch. Black's screenplay does much to keep them separate, yet their moments together are still effective. Sir Ben's Kingsley guzzles scenery like toffee and I really can't fault anything Guy Pearce, Don Cheadle or Rebecca Hall have done recently, let alone here.

A lot of the dialogue is snappy and chucklesome and individual moments and scenes hit their mark as you'd expect from a writer of Black's calibre. Yet the entire feature doesn't settle well in the pit of my stomach. As murky as the politics were in Nolan's Dark Knight Rises, the film still managed to fit within its universe of necessary evils and chaos that its characters are meant to inhabit. At least Batman kept it all about the turmoil of Bruce Wayne, Iron Man 3 seems happy to dismiss Stark's relationship and anxiety as fussy, uninteresting and easily micro managed by an 11 year old. That may not bother the cool kids or bean counters, but it gave me food for thought.