Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)

Star Wars - The Force Awakens (2015)

Thirty years after the events of Return of the Jedi and Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) has gone missing. The First Order - an evil junta formed from the ashes of the Empire - is hell bent on tracking down and killing the Jedi and wiping out the new Republic. General Leia (Carrie Fisher), the leader of The Resistance, dispatches hotshot pilot Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) to the planet Jaaku to track down a map and find her absent brother before it is too late.

As Poe is captured by the ruthless Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), the map falls into the hands of a young scavenger (Daisy Ridley), a turncoat Stormtrooper (John Boyega) and a feisty droid known as BB-8, and the trio flee in a stolen freighter. However, it isn’t long before they are intercepted by the former owner of their ship – the smuggler Han Solo (Harrison Ford) and his co-pilot Chewbacca (Peter Mayhew) - and end up on an adventure they never expected.

On paper it might not seem such a difficult task to craft a better film than the oft-maligned (but fitfully entertaining) prequels - yet writer/director JJ Abrams had a fairly unenviable job when it came to making The Force Awakens. Walking the fine line between fan-service and building a sturdy base from which to grow the franchise is a tough challenge – but for the most part he has succeeded, crafting one of the most enjoyable Star Wars films so far… From a certain point of view.

The plot of the film is broadly familiar, following a similar narrative arc to the very first Star Wars - a feisty youngster from a dusty backwater planet is plucked from obscurity, joins the rebellion and begins to learn the ways of the force.

For people like me who have seen the original trilogy more times than we would care to count, some elements of The Force Awakens may seem a little too familiar. Cherry picking the best parts from the original trilogy, Abrams and his co-writers (Empire Strikes Back scribe Laurence Kasdan and Toy Story 3 writer Michael Arndt) have peppered the film with so many call backs and recycled plot points that at times it can feel like a greatest hits collection.

In no way does this detract from the enjoyment – this is a film made by a fan, for the fans - but it does leave the film feeling more than a little unoriginal and lend it an air of predictability. Still, this ultimately becomes a minor gripe given how downright entertaining the film is, and the obvious love and attention that has gone into its making.

Star Wars lives and dies on its characters, and The Force Awakens has a richer and more varied group of rogues, heroes and villains than any other film in the series. So too, the new cast are uniformly sterling, with a notable (and admirable) move towards diversity and inclusivity - the main leads are a woman, a black man and a latino - something that is sadly still noted as “casting against the grain”.

This new “big three” all shine in their varied roles. Daisy Ridley stands out as the star of the show, treading the path Luke took in the original film - investing the role with empathy, innocence and independence. Boyega is given the meatiest role of the heroes, carrying a lot of the humour but also moral weight on his shoulders as a Stormtrooper who suffers a crisis of conscience and abandons his post. Isaac, meanwhile, is the most underused of the core cast, but still does strong work as the archetypal hero. He would be this films Han Solo were it not for... 

Harrison Ford - given a surprisingly substantial amount to do – imbues his older Solo with a gravelly world weariness and grit that proves to be a welcome counterpoint to the otherwise innocent and wide-eyed youths he’s accompanying. Carrie Fisher on the other hand isn’t given quite so much screen time, although her scenes with Ford do prove to be gently touching in spates.

However, the award for MVP goes to Adam Driver as Kylo Ren. Hidden behind a mask for much of the film, Ren is much more than just a Darth Vader stand in – perhaps even surpassing him in terms of depth and emotional heft. Indeed, it’s easy to view him as a correction to Lucas’ mishandling of the young Anakin arc in the prequels. Flitting along the boundary between the light and dark sides, his villain is terrifying yet also strangely sympathetic. It’s a great performance, and one which will only grow in the episodes to come.

Elsewhere, the film is peppered with a plethora of supporting players, all of whom are interesting but don’t get enough screen time to fully develop. Andy Serkis’ Snoke comes across most vividly as an ominous but slightly distracting Emperor substitute (he’ll surely show up more in later instalments), and Lupita Nyong'o is a wise old landlady who's sole purpose is to deposit some hefty exposition. Gwendoline Christie also makes an impact as Captain Phasma, a cool looking intermediary between Domhnall Gleeson’s pantomime villain, General Hux and Boyega’s loose Stormtrooper. On the light side, Threepio gets one of the biggest laughs in the movie in his sadly limited screen time amongst a host of other aliens and some familiar faces at rebel (sorry, Resistance) HQ.

Speaking of big laughs, this is a surprisingly funny film, with the buoyant script casting off memories of the prequels stilted dialogue. Gone are diatribes about sand, replaced with the more natural repartee from the original trilogy. Indeed, this is easily one of the best written and well-paced films in the saga, the writers crafting a tight story that is never less than entertaining, and at its best offers some of the most enjoyable blockbuster entertainment in recent memory.

Abrams has a kinetic directing style that recalls the work of 70’s and 80’s era Spielberg - never too flashy or obtrusive, the action is always in service of the story. Chase scenes, aerial dogfights and space battles – all the boxes are ticked, and while they are all well-handled, the final reel is tad over-stuffed, with some key plot developments deserving a little more time to breathe amongst the maelstrom. Nonetheless, come the inevitable lightsaber duel it’s hard to grumble, with an admirably restrained affair foregoing the fast paced combat of the prequels in favour of a more rough and ready aesthetic, prioritising character over flashy swordsmanship.

Elsewhere, it’s worthwhile to note the great care that has gone into other aspects of the production, particularly in the design work. This is something that Star Wars has always excelled at – the prequels included- and it’s good to see it continue here. So too, the visual effects are impressive and slot into the film more seamlessly than they did in the latter two prequels. Much was made of it before release, but it is pleasing to see a return to puppetry work and practical sets.

And, of course one of the greatest joys of a new Star Wars film comes in the form of a new John Williams score, and he’s on predictably fine form here. Delivering the requisite emotional boost and soaring strings that you might not notice on first watch, his music is what makes Star Wars what it is. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t have a tear in their eye and a pounding in their chest as the music swells come the beautifully constructed final shot.

So, even though it may ultimately be too reliant on the old tropes to surpass the greatest of its siblings, on its own merits The Force Awakens still offers enough thrills and entertainment to rank among the best films released this year.

From here-on in its all uncharted territory, where these characters go and what they do is anybody’s guess - but at the very least The Force Awakens makes you more than willing to find out. As the opening line of the film fittingly puts it, “This will begin to make things right”...

4/5

The Martian (2015)

The Martian (2015)

Ridley Scott is (rightly) held in esteem as a sci-fi master, Alien and Blade Runner being high watermarks of the genre. Yet, after Prometheus proved to somewhat of a misfire, you’d be forgiven for going into the Martian with mild scepticism. If anything that film, along with his other most recent outings, The Councelor and Exodus, have proven that even the greatest visual story teller still needs a damn good script or the films just won’t work.

It’s a pleasure to report, then, that barring one or two hickups on the closing stretches, the script for The Martian is a fine one. Many of the positives (and happily there are plenty) must be attributed to the original 2011 novel by Andy Weir, a smart science heavy thriller that has been equally smartly streamlined by scripter Drew Goddard.

The plot is a simple one. After a dust storm forces his companions to make a hasty getaway, Mark Watney (Matt Damon) is left for dead on the planet Mars. Determined to survive against the odds, the botanist gets to work on innumerable nifty solutions to his plight, growing potatoes in his own shit, manufacturing water from hydrogen, and finding a way to regain contact with NASA and ultimately try to make his way back home.

Much like Tom Hanks in Castaway, Damon needs to hold huge swathes of the film together, and, indeed much like Castaway (and Apollo 13 for that matter), it’s not hard to see some of Hanks brand of everyman charisma and charm in Damon’s performance. The moments Damon is on screen are the films best, and you miss him when he’s away. His incredibly funny yet human performance, lending Watney a cocky empathy, holds the film together.

It’s only natural then, that the rest of the film may suffer somewhat as a result. Some elements work incredibly well, with Jeff Daniels's NASA boss playing tough, while other elements (Donald Glover’s comedy physicist) overdo the slapstick. Similarly, his former crewmates aren’t given a great deal to do apart from look moody and wrestle with the guilt of leaving him behind. Still, Scott has populated his film with some great actors, meaning that even the broadest characters seem realistic and engaging in the hands of Chiwetel Ejiofor, Sean Bean and Jessica Chastain.

The film also prides itself on realism and scientific accuracy – although it does take some liberties, the science seems both credible and realistic. Much of this engaging realism can be attributed to the gorgeous production design, the universe building that Scott has always cultivated in his films. The film is also beautifully lensed by regular collaborator Dariusz Wolski, with his wide shots of the Jordan Desert (a suitable stand in for Mars) proving particularly jaw dropping.

After the epic naval gazing disappointment of Interstellar last year, The Martian is a film that looks for the positive, what humans can achieve, and it does so with great style and no little humour. Thanks to Matt Damon giving one of the best performances of his career, this is easily Sir Ridley’s best film in years, and probably the most downright entertaining film he’s ever made. Great fun.

4/5

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

It’s often said that actions speak louder than words, and such is the case with Mad Max: Fury Road, George Miller’s awe inspiringly demented return to the Wacky Races.

The plot, such as it is, hinges on what is essentially a two hour car chase, a pyretic pursuit across the vast, boundless breadth of the Namibian desert. An unfeasibly armoured lorry, the War Rig, is driven by renegade Furiosa (Charlize Theron) and Max (Tom Hardy); staving off infinite attacks from the War Boys, a squad of freaks giving chase in a bevy of souped-up hot-rods. The cause of this bothersome affair is a harem of five brusque yet beautiful concubines, unceremoniously stolen from king of the freaks, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne) with hopes of escaping to some vague Shangri-La.

Miller spent the better part of two decades painstakingly piecing his film together, storyboarding, writing, dipping in and out of preproduction so many times it’s a wonder it ever saw the cameras at all. And yet, with his impressive army of stunt-folk, hundreds of hours of footage and a plethora of shooting and editing styles he has crafted an exquisite ode to the art of film-making.

Fury Road may be the fourth in a franchise, but it comes refreshingly free of impedimenta. Almost entirely omitting any expository run in, Max, and by extension the audience, are thrown into the wringer right from the get-go.

This time out the Road Warrior is portrayed by Tom Hardy, Mel Gibson ironically probably now too Mad to occupy the role. Hardy’s Max is pricklier, gruffer, and generally wilder than the Gibson incarnation, a force of mostly silent ruination, drifting into the melee almost by accident. It’s a rare occurrence when Hardy gets to speak, and when he does it’s in a primal growl, monosyllabic and almost mournful. Hardy lets his eyes and body do the talking.

He’s also seemingly a supporting character in his own film, ancillary in most regards to metal-armed MVP Charlize Theron. Perhaps the greatest heroine since Ellen Ripley, Theron’s Furiosa is the more engaging of the two leads - she’s more human, more desperate and ultimately lends a surprising emotional heft to proceedings. One could even argue that upon her shoulders Fury Road becomes a bona-fide feminist blockbuster: a film about the liberation of women held against their will as baby making slaves from a malevolent and tyrannical patriarch.

Nicholas Hoult rounds out the core trio with an admirably bonkers (and almost unrecognisable) turn as a strangely endearing WarBoy, while Hugh Keays-Byrne’s hams it up as the masked Immortan Joe - coming out just the right side of exuberantly repugnant. Elsewhere, Miller populates the film with a dizzying plethora of nutcases and circus freaks; the contender for best of the bunch - perhaps even the greatest supporting role of the year - a now infamous masked musician, swinging gleefully atop a truck, issuing forth an endless stream of power chords from a flaming guitar.

Indeed, Fury Road reaches its most dizzying and inventive heights when it throws all caution to the wind - when any reflections on character or message are cast aside in favour of a dizzying onslaught of insane stunt work and glorious practical effects. Our heroes’ racing into a gigantic, hellish firestorm, like an insect sucked into a volcanic eruption, the image lingers in the memory as a visual highlight in a film full of gorgeous work. And yet, in spite of all his carnage Miller never loses track of what’s going on, with an efficient clarity often missing from more recent mega budget effects behemoths.

Ultimately, Fury Road is an uncompromisingly entertaining cinematic achievement, beautifully shot, wildly inventive and even gently thought provoking. The best blockbuster of the summer.

5/5

Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)

Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)

Harry Hart (Colin Firth) is a member of the Kingsman, an urbane and virtuous spy outfit operating out of a Savile Row tailors. After one their number dies they set about looking for replacement, and Hart selects “Eggsy” (Taron Egerton), a smart mouthed and talented yoof from the wrong side of the tracks. While Eggsy is put through his espionage paces, lisping nutcase Richmond Valentine (Samuel L Jackson) sets into motion plans to take over the world with mobile phone sim cards and it’s up to the Kingsman to stop him.

Matthew Vaughn seems to be cinematic Marmite, dividing the film going public into two camps. Some find his brand of sharp, stylised often ultra-violent work to be fun, witty and just the right side of irreverent, while the others accuse him of being over indulgent, succumbing to laddish fantasy and lacking heart or finesse.

Well, luckily for me I fall squarely into the former category. I say luckily for me because Kingsman is the most “Matthew Vaughn” film Matthew Vaughn has ever made. It’s an audacious and wildly entertaining rollercoaster ride, distinctly and unashamedly British and featuring some of the loopiest visuals ever committed to such a high profile blockbuster.

Particular praise must be given to the adrenaline fuelled action beats that litter the film. Favouring long takes and a kinetic camera rather than nauseating and choppy edits that seem to be the norm in Hollywood these days, Kingsman features some of the most inventive action I’ve seen in a long time.

Sheer pleasure is the definite modus operandi here, injecting barrels of fun into a concept that could so easily have just been a run of the mill Hollywood bunkum. Indeed, Vaughn and co-writer Jane Goldman (who also worked on Kick Ass and Stardust) clearly love the spy genre and litter the movie with tons of neat references. From the subtle (the Kingsman all sporting dapper Harry Palmer specs), to the not so subtle (Firth and Jackson engaging in a meta conversation about their favourite Bond films), it’s a treasure trove of spy tropes.

Much of this is entertainment value is down to a roster of excellent performances, with the entire cast embracing the lunacy with wild abandon. Firth is the big winner here, clearly having the time of his life – relishing the opportunity to occupy a Bond-like role he sadly missed out on in younger days. Likewise, Samuel L Jackson is hilarious, bizarrely channelling Will.I.Am via Chris Eubank to great effect. Elsewhere, top support comes from the always wonderful Mark Strong as the Kingsman’s equivalent of Q, and Sophie Cookson as Roxy, Eggsy’s primary rival for the spy role and a refreshingly well rounded female character in another wise male dominated genre.

Of course the film isn’t perfect.  The first half could be accused of being formulaic, grinding gears and positioning characters before the main plot kicks in, but even at it’s lowest ebb it never once dips into boring territory. Elsewhere, the otherwise sharp script comes undone with some muddled class-system satire that could have benefited from a bit of a polish. And of course, as ever with all Vaughn’s films, there are the usual excesses and a definite lack of subtlety. But these are minor gripes and aren’t sufficient to sully what is an otherwise sharp and funny film.

Kingsman is a rollicking thrill ride, then. Light-hearted, fast paced and incredibly funny. Although much of the adult humour and violence won’t be everybody’s cup of tea, for fans of this kind of thing you’d be hard pressed to find a more entertaining and uncompromisingly idiosyncratic film this year.

4/5

The Theory of Everything (2014)

The Theory of Everything (2014)

The Theory of Everything charts the romantic life of legendary physicist Stephen Hawking over a course of three decades. From his early days as a lazy yet brilliant student at Cambridge, through his diagnosis with ALS to his rise to fame as one of the pre-eminent scientists of the modern age.

Adapted by Anthony McCarten, the (mostly) true life tale is based on the memoir “Travelling to Infinity: My Life with Stephen” by Jane Wilde Hawking. Although some liberties are taken with the chronology and facts are gently warped to suit the emotional arc, The Theory of Everything positions itself as a fairly accurate account of Stephen and Janes married life. However, by crowbarring such a complicated and real relationship into a traditional biopic structure, it ultimately ends up as a plot we’ve seen many times before, but with a few added bells and whistles.

Placing the focus squarely on the relationship aspects, the film sadly glosses over much of Hawking’s achievements with perfunctory and shallow exposition. Likewise, large swathes of his academic career are ignored in favour of narrative simplicity. It makes for a smoother cinematic ride, but also robs the kitchen sink elements of legitimacy.

Still, this focus on the nitty gritty details of the marriage does lend the story an emotional edge and the central pairing make fine work with some genuinely tender moments. Eddie Redmayne portrays Hawking with grace and subtlety, showing the physical decline of the man with an impressive lack of flamboyance. Likewise, Felicity Jones lends an empathy and kindness to Jane, an impressive feat given the strangely underdeveloped role.

However for every tender moment there’s some hammy dialogue or overly soapy melodrama to distract from the genuine emotion. Many key plot points come across as mawkish rather than touching; an over reliance on faux “amateur” footage and invasive over the top orchestral swells seem lazy and manipulative.

James Marsh directs with unobtrusive finesse and adds a layer of gloss to a script that would probably be better suited for Saturday night on ITV. Meanwhile, the supporting cast try their best with some clichéd and caricatured roles, Charlie Cox coming off best as a kind natured church choirmaster who sparks up a sweet relationship with Jane. Elsewhere, Hawking’s parents are rendered as one dimensional pantomime bastards rather than rounded human beings, while Jane’s family and friends are conspicuous by their complete absence.

Ultimately then, The Theory of Everything isn’t quite successful. A by the numbers biopic, tailor made for awards season, it’s held together by a handful of genuinely tender moments thanks mostly to a pair of excellent performances at its core.

3/5

Birdman (2014)

Birdman (2014)

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) follows the escalating struggles of washed up Hollywood star Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), and his seemingly doomed attempts to regain credibility by mounting an pompous Broadway show.

Pressure is present on all sides, particularly from narcissistic co-star Mike (Edward Norton) and his damaged, resentful daughter Sam (Emma Stone). As his mental state deteriorates Riggan is visited by the spectre of his most famous role, Birdman, and things get strange.strange.

Birdman is a departure for director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, turning away from his solemn yet powerful dramas 21 grams and Babel and creating something daring and new. The gamble has paid off, however, and what we have here is a surprisingly funny, heartfelt and quirky piece of cinema.

Filmed in what appears to be a single tracking shot, much like Hitchcock’s Rope, Iñárritu’s camera stalks his characters down subdued theatre corridors and lively New York streets, through trippy dream sequences and intimate emotional moments in one fluid move. It’s a technical blinder, and much of the kudos must be attributed to cinematographer extraordinaire Emmanuel Lubezki, who works magic with a tough gig: the long takes here make his work in Children of Men look like child’s play.

Of course it’s all trickery, pieced together seamlessly with brilliant editing, but with some takes lasting up to twenty minutes, the actors have nowhere to hide and it results in performances that are invested with genuine humanity and gritty realism.

At the centre of the maelstrom is Keaton, carrying the movie with a towering performance that affords him the opportunity to mine emotional depths he’s so rarely had chance to flaunt in his previous work. Thomson is a character lost at sea, failing to keep his head above water and blinded by his own hubris, unaware of who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing. It’s the performance of a lifetime and it would be a sin if the Oscars didn’t take notice.

Elsewhere, an impressive Emma Stone is open and real as Riggan’s damaged daughter while Edward Norton provides a sublime and frequently hilarious turn as the an arrogant and mildly insane actor.

While it could easily have been a simple black comedy about theatrical conceit, Birdman sidesteps expectations and metamorphosizes into something more affecting and poignant, with deep ruminations on the nature of celebrity, biting satire of Twitter/YouTube culture, the nature of art itself and an astute insight into a mind falling apart at the seams.

All together, Birdman is a delirious and quirky masterpiece, skilfully engineered and performed with heart and gusto. It’s so rare to find a film that makes you think, feel, laugh and cry all at once, but Birdman does that, and it does it in droves. This is what cinema is all about.

5/5

*originally written for Nouse