Review: Her (2013)
The set up: Los Angeles, in the not too distant future, and preposterously named writer Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) has recently split from the love of his life. Navel gazing and stuck in a rut he buys a shiny new operating system, an artificially intelligent entity designed to give his life a spring clean and boost his happiness. Constantly linked to him via smartphone and earpiece, the new OS, named Samantha (silkily voiced by Scarlett Johansson) gives him more than he expected, and inevitably Theodore falls in love.
“Man creates machine, man falls in love with machine” is not a new concept by any stretch; Isaac Asimov and Philip K Dick were touching on these themes nearly half a century ago, but in this package as a science fiction romantic comedy drama, we are offered a new, interesting and often beautiful take.
We are presented with the burgeoning relationship as something organic and normal, it could almost be a standard "boy meets girl" love story were it not for the fact that one half of the couple resides in a computer. Indeed, Her wears its romantic comedy influences on its sleeve, not least in its debt to existential 70’s Woody Allen (albeit with a pinch of Minority Reports glossy future sheen). Her is a film that fuses many fairly common elements together in an distinctly uncommon and fresh package.
Much like the best sci fi, it works as a mirror of the present day, reflecting contemporary anxieties and cultural quirks: The film is littered with people vacantly walking around with earphones in, staring at their phones, or talking via hands free thingamy; Theodore sits alone on the couch interacting with a game rather than with other people. In his job, he writes love letters for people who either can't be bothered to write them themselves.
And yet despite the blunt, unflattering treatise on modern ills, and the almost standard rom-com tropes, what we ultimately end up with is a genuinely sweet natured film with honest heart felt emotion. It's a tough balancing act, but writer/director Spike Jonze has produced perhaps his sharpest film yet.
The (deservedly) Oscar nominated screenplay guides his star through a gamut of emotional turmoil. Joaquin Phoenix is at the top of his game here, bringing humor and innocence to a character that in other hands could easily come off as distant and moody. Phoenix is in nearly every scene in the film, with much of that in tight close up, and every emotional tick, every minute thought is delivered with precision and authenticity. It's a great performance, and a surprise to me that he hasn't been nominated for the big awards, since Her is just as much dependent on his performance as it is on Jonze's creativity.
Scarlett Johansson adds warmth and, strangely, humanity to the film, drawing us in and making us believe, just as Twombly does, that there's genuine emotion in this machine. Amy Adams is also invaluable, if underused, as a good natured best friend figure and the only real other person who it's easy to connect with.
Visually, too, the film is wonderfully judged, the cinematography striking yet warm, framing of each shot inextricably linked to Theodores frame of mind at any given time. The beautiful final shot is an image I'd be happy to have on my wall. Likewise, the music, by Arcade Fire's William Buttler is less a traditional orchestral score, more an ambient soundscape punctuated by brief flickers of piano, dripping with melancholy and reinforcing rather than hammering home the emotion.
Of course, it is possible to fault. At 126 minutes it runs a tad long and as mentioned; Amy Adams gets short changed in terms of screen time. But these few flaws aside, what we have here is a beautiful and thoughtful film, an observation on loneliness, isolation and the how modern technological innovations may not be the best way to remedy these woes. While in lesser hands this could have been a drab lecture, Jonze, together with his impeccable cast and technical crew, has managed to create a modern classic.
5/5
~Review originally written for York Vision~
Monday, 3 March 2014
Monday, 17 February 2014
Review: Robocop (2014)
Alex Murphy (Joel Kinnaman ) is a cop, a bloody good cop at that, but
unfortunately he gets exploded and what’s left of him encased in metal. Lo, he
becomes Robocop: a cybernetic force of good who kicks ass and eats bad guys for
breakfast.
Therein
lies the basic premise of both the original and new Robocop, and in the case of
Paul Verhoevens schlocky 80’s classic, a razor sharp rumination on themes as
varied as political corruption, authoritarianism and human nature; chock full
of satire, wonderfully gory action and, most importantly, oodles of fun.
Although
this new reimagining does touch base with all the above, it never quite comes
close to matching it in any meaningful way, let alone surpassing it. But,
after a spree of awful and pointless remakes recently (Total Recall, anyone?),
Robocop is actually, when all is said and done, not bad at all.
Much like
the central character himself, Robocop (2014) is a well put together, glossy
bit of kit; but ultimately you have to question how much free will director
José Padilha actually had in its genesis, and how much of its DNA was imposed
by the suited bods in the office upstairs.
Narratively
it’s smart and snappy and you can’t deny that much thought has clearly gone
into the story, which deviates from the original in some new and interesting
ways. Likewise, it looks great, with top level effects and shiny cinematography
making it consistently great to watch. However tonally it veers wildly and
that’s where the main problems lay.
Specifically,
it often seems like the film-makers couldn't decide what they wanted the film to
be, so they just crammed all the ideas in there for good measure: one minute
it’s soft and mournful, next it's all whizz bang spectacle, then a bit of ham
handed political satire for luck. Although it’s hard to fault the intent, the
sometimes sharp philosophical musings just don’t sit well with the loud, forgettable action and are often undermined by it. Likewise, the strange
decision to use the original theme music is very distracting and feels like an attempt to remind us of the original, rather than give the new film
something of its own.
That being
said, Padilha has assembled a great cast here and they all make a decent effort
with the material they're given. A particular tip of the hat must go to Michael
Keaton as a dodgy CEO with the lions share of the best lines, and his partner
as most valuable player, Gary Oldman who shares most of the screen time with
Keaton as a good-egg Doctor. Both light up the screen, and it's hard to imagine
the film would be half as watchable without their efforts. Likewise, Samuel L
Jackson is a pleasure in his small role hamming it up as rush
Limbaugh-like political commentator.
Elsewhere, though the remaining cast don't really fair quite as well, especially poor
Joel Kinnaman as the titular tin man who just isn't given anything meaningful
to do aside from mumble and shoot.
So it's a
fairly entertaining movie then, mostly elevated by some good performances and
slick gloss, but it's hard to escape the feeling that it could have been so
much more if only they'd just let it be a little more... human.
3/5
~This review was originally written for York Vision~
~This review was originally written for York Vision~
Friday, 17 January 2014
Review: 12 Years A Slave (2014)
12 Years a Slave (2014)
The set up is simple: It is Pre-Civil War United States and Solomon Northup (Chiwetelu Ejiofor), a free man from New York, is abducted, stripped of his identity and sold into a life of slavery in the south. Over the following decade the renamed "Platt" first becomes the property of Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch), before being sold down the river to Epps (Michael Fassbender), an unhinged psychopath who's obsession with slave girl Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o) edges him into regular fits of cruel, violent rage.
Based on the memoirs of Northup himself, 12 Years a Slave treads similar thematic ground to last years Django Unchained. But where Tarantino doused his film in an ostentatious, gleeful revisionist sheen, McQueen provides nothing of the sort. His is a sober, often painful study that has its basis in cold punishing fact.
As is to be expected from a Turner prize winning artist, every image is precise and sharp, there is no flab or excess here. Stunningly photographed, prolonged indelible images that infiltrate the mind and induce unease. Central of which is a extended shot of Northup, strung up from a tree as punishment, his feet barely reaching the ground, life continuing around him in ignorance. It's deliberately stark, visceral and uncomfortable viewing. You want it to stop, but of course it doesn't.
The film is full of these unflinching, devastating moments, most of which are provided by the deranged Epps, who delivers an unrelenting stream of degrading, painful punishments to his slaves.
Most notable is a scene in which the master whips field girl and object of his obsession, Patsey (Lupita Nyong’o, in an impressive understated performance), then forces Solomon himself to provide the torture. It’s unpleasant, sickening and all the worse because it's true. These things happened, and they happened regularly.
McQueen counterbalances these frequent abhorrent occurrences with punctuations of elegance, shots of the deep south in its serene beauty, the flickering embers of a dying fire, moments of emotional release for Northup.
The cast is uniformly excellent, with much deserved praise being heaped on Ejiofer. His natural performance delivering a humanity and empathy, a surrogate for the audience, a way in to this horrific situation. Descending through the emotional spectrum, his often silent performance relies on a mastery of the physical, minute changes in his face or stance telling a story without the need for words. Michael Fassbender is also impressive, delivering a performance of pure fire and brimstone, terrifying and repugnant. Both are awards worthy.
However, the film isn't entirely perfect. Narratively speaking, it never truly gives the impression that Northup has been living this misery for many years. While the pace is often broken by a disjointed structure as Northup is dragged from owner to owner and back again. It's also possible to gripe that the film tells the story of the man who survived, who ultimately did get his happy ending where countless millions did not. This film shows us a journey into (and out of) slavery, allowing us to leave at the end with him.
But of course, these are all inherent in the source material, and in making a film for the masses Mcqueen has to consent to certain stylistic constraints. And, in the end films about American Slavery are so vanishingly rare, especially as blunt and real as this, it's hard to find flaws in the intent.
Ultimately, 12 years a slave is an overwhelmingly accomplished film, weighty and powerful. A story of the triumph of courage through an unthinkable hell, a real life pain and trauma for millions, told in a beautiful often brutal and uncompromising fashion, and yet it comes through the other side with no shortage of grace and beauty. A elegant, emotional film.
5/5
Thom Shutt
*This review was originally written for York Vision*
The set up is simple: It is Pre-Civil War United States and Solomon Northup (Chiwetelu Ejiofor), a free man from New York, is abducted, stripped of his identity and sold into a life of slavery in the south. Over the following decade the renamed "Platt" first becomes the property of Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch), before being sold down the river to Epps (Michael Fassbender), an unhinged psychopath who's obsession with slave girl Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o) edges him into regular fits of cruel, violent rage.
Based on the memoirs of Northup himself, 12 Years a Slave treads similar thematic ground to last years Django Unchained. But where Tarantino doused his film in an ostentatious, gleeful revisionist sheen, McQueen provides nothing of the sort. His is a sober, often painful study that has its basis in cold punishing fact.
As is to be expected from a Turner prize winning artist, every image is precise and sharp, there is no flab or excess here. Stunningly photographed, prolonged indelible images that infiltrate the mind and induce unease. Central of which is a extended shot of Northup, strung up from a tree as punishment, his feet barely reaching the ground, life continuing around him in ignorance. It's deliberately stark, visceral and uncomfortable viewing. You want it to stop, but of course it doesn't.
The film is full of these unflinching, devastating moments, most of which are provided by the deranged Epps, who delivers an unrelenting stream of degrading, painful punishments to his slaves.
Most notable is a scene in which the master whips field girl and object of his obsession, Patsey (Lupita Nyong’o, in an impressive understated performance), then forces Solomon himself to provide the torture. It’s unpleasant, sickening and all the worse because it's true. These things happened, and they happened regularly.
McQueen counterbalances these frequent abhorrent occurrences with punctuations of elegance, shots of the deep south in its serene beauty, the flickering embers of a dying fire, moments of emotional release for Northup.
The cast is uniformly excellent, with much deserved praise being heaped on Ejiofer. His natural performance delivering a humanity and empathy, a surrogate for the audience, a way in to this horrific situation. Descending through the emotional spectrum, his often silent performance relies on a mastery of the physical, minute changes in his face or stance telling a story without the need for words. Michael Fassbender is also impressive, delivering a performance of pure fire and brimstone, terrifying and repugnant. Both are awards worthy.
However, the film isn't entirely perfect. Narratively speaking, it never truly gives the impression that Northup has been living this misery for many years. While the pace is often broken by a disjointed structure as Northup is dragged from owner to owner and back again. It's also possible to gripe that the film tells the story of the man who survived, who ultimately did get his happy ending where countless millions did not. This film shows us a journey into (and out of) slavery, allowing us to leave at the end with him.
But of course, these are all inherent in the source material, and in making a film for the masses Mcqueen has to consent to certain stylistic constraints. And, in the end films about American Slavery are so vanishingly rare, especially as blunt and real as this, it's hard to find flaws in the intent.
Ultimately, 12 years a slave is an overwhelmingly accomplished film, weighty and powerful. A story of the triumph of courage through an unthinkable hell, a real life pain and trauma for millions, told in a beautiful often brutal and uncompromising fashion, and yet it comes through the other side with no shortage of grace and beauty. A elegant, emotional film.
5/5
Thom Shutt
*This review was originally written for York Vision*
Thursday, 2 January 2014
Ones to watch 2014
Ones to watch 2014
Arriving March 7th, THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL looks like another slice of fried gold from Wes Anderson. Ralph Fiennes headlines as a hotel concierge bequeathed a painting by elderly guest/lover (Tilda Swinton), much to the chagrin of her son (Adrian Brody), resulting in a cat and mouse chase as they attempt to determine the paintings true owner. Also featuring the likes of Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Edward Norton, and Owen Wilson, Anderson has assembled a cast so esoteric it makes the heart swell. Expect a bonkers treat.
A week later sees the release of Terry Gilliams THE ZERO THEOREM, starring Christoph Waltz as a computer analyst working to find the meaning of life. Poor old Terry hasn't had much luck recently so it's a relief here to find him working in a similar ball park as his earlier masterworks Brazil and Twelve Monkeys. The Orwellian plot sounds pleasingly kooky and, if all else fails, the wonderful Waltz has a habit of winning an Oscar whenever anyone points a camera at him, so we can expect a characteristically top notch performance from him.
Fans of Sci Fi are in for a treat again later in the year when Brit wunderkind Christopher Nolan unleashes INTERSTELLAR (November 7th). Details on the plot are thin for this one (it is Nolan after all), but we do know that it's based on a concept by legendary physicist Kip Thorne and focusses on a group of astronauts as they head through a wormhole into another universe, or dimension... or something. Based on Nolan's previous high watermark, we can expect an cerebral visual feast of a movie, and with a cracking cast featuring the likes of Anne Hathaway, Matthew McConaughey (who is on great form recently) and Nolan regular Michael Caine, it'll be a surefire winner.
Finally, fans of smaller scale indie fare will no doubt find much to love in Zach Braff's sophomore effort, WISH I WAS HERE (sic), the "spiritual follow up" to his charming 2004 debut Garden State. Although not an actual sequel to the earlier film, it's very much in the same vein, with Braff starring as an actor, father and husband struggling to find the purpose of life as he approaches his forties. Featuring perennial indie darling Kate Hudson as his wife and Scrubs alumnus Donald Faison, this looks like it'll be a funny, sweet and a tiny bit life affirming.
**Originally written for the York Vision website**
Arriving March 7th, THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL looks like another slice of fried gold from Wes Anderson. Ralph Fiennes headlines as a hotel concierge bequeathed a painting by elderly guest/lover (Tilda Swinton), much to the chagrin of her son (Adrian Brody), resulting in a cat and mouse chase as they attempt to determine the paintings true owner. Also featuring the likes of Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Edward Norton, and Owen Wilson, Anderson has assembled a cast so esoteric it makes the heart swell. Expect a bonkers treat.
A week later sees the release of Terry Gilliams THE ZERO THEOREM, starring Christoph Waltz as a computer analyst working to find the meaning of life. Poor old Terry hasn't had much luck recently so it's a relief here to find him working in a similar ball park as his earlier masterworks Brazil and Twelve Monkeys. The Orwellian plot sounds pleasingly kooky and, if all else fails, the wonderful Waltz has a habit of winning an Oscar whenever anyone points a camera at him, so we can expect a characteristically top notch performance from him.
Fans of Sci Fi are in for a treat again later in the year when Brit wunderkind Christopher Nolan unleashes INTERSTELLAR (November 7th). Details on the plot are thin for this one (it is Nolan after all), but we do know that it's based on a concept by legendary physicist Kip Thorne and focusses on a group of astronauts as they head through a wormhole into another universe, or dimension... or something. Based on Nolan's previous high watermark, we can expect an cerebral visual feast of a movie, and with a cracking cast featuring the likes of Anne Hathaway, Matthew McConaughey (who is on great form recently) and Nolan regular Michael Caine, it'll be a surefire winner.
Finally, fans of smaller scale indie fare will no doubt find much to love in Zach Braff's sophomore effort, WISH I WAS HERE (sic), the "spiritual follow up" to his charming 2004 debut Garden State. Although not an actual sequel to the earlier film, it's very much in the same vein, with Braff starring as an actor, father and husband struggling to find the purpose of life as he approaches his forties. Featuring perennial indie darling Kate Hudson as his wife and Scrubs alumnus Donald Faison, this looks like it'll be a funny, sweet and a tiny bit life affirming.
**Originally written for the York Vision website**
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
In Review: The Hobbit, The Desolation of Smaug (2013)
The Hobbit - The Desolation of Smaug (2013)
For three glorious winters a decade ago, a cheerful bearded fat man delivered a trio of specatular and gorgeous Christmas treats to cinemas around the world. Rich in detail, monumental in scope and universally acclaimed, Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings is a supreme achievement in modern cinema. It would take a brave man to even attempt to repeat the feat.
And yet, after years of fannying about in development hell, last year came An Unexpected Journey. The first of a whole new trilogy of Tolkeiny goodness, a chance to revisit Middle Earth and relive some of those precious memories.
Or that was the idea, anyway. Unfortunately for many, An Unexpected Journey never quite managed to take flight in the way that it's esteemed predecessors did. Dogged by pacing problems and sometimes lacking a certain magic that made the earlier trilogy so wonderful, it wasn't quite the immediate classic we'd hoped for. Of course, The Phantom Menace, this was not. Sure, it took a while to get going, but once it did it still had plenty going for it. Gollum, those wonderful middle earth vistas, hair raising action... Sir Ian in that big hat. It was all quite lovely, but it wasn't perfect.
So, one year on, where are we? What of Smaug?
Opening with a neat flashback in a familiar pub, Desolation breezes out of the gates and takes flight through a seeming infinity of action and plot towards a roaring climax with onehelluva dragon.
As with every Jackson film, we're clocking in here at close to three hours, but it's three very fast hours. Indeed, as strange as it sounds, I find myself wanting more time with these characters once the film closes out. After years of watching extended editions on DVD, the original trilogy became more like a mini series that I'd watch in dribs and drabs. Voluminous as this film is, it's clear to see some of the cuts he made that will surely be slotted back in come the inevitable extended DVD.
That being said, we're not missing any great detail here, and of course, many purists will gripe about the inflation of a slender tome into a 9 hour uber-trilogy, but to be honest anyone who does is missing the point. As an adaptation of a book, a few liberties are taken and Jackson crams in extra details from Tolkeins own writings, but... as a film, a slice of cinematic entertainment, it works very well indeed.
In fact, one can't quite shake the feeling that the film is trying to shake off the sins of its forebear: it's notably short on the plot-lite standing around on the first film, and heavy on the zippy action and story development of the earlier trilogy.
In trimming out much of the expositional mud that tainted the first film, here we have a pace and lightness that characterises Jacksons best work. A multitude of action sequences, each as dazzling and entertaining as the last clatter along while a plethora of characters and beasties zip across the screen in breathless fashion.
Of course the film isn't short of flaws. While all are fun, some of the action seems a tad unnecessary, particularly elements of the final Smaug showdown which runs a tad long. But it's a small gripe when other elements are so rousing. The much touted barrel set piece in particular is, excuse me, barrels of fun (sorry). A particular moment involving rotund dwarf Bombur had me grinning very widely indeed.
Meanwhile, Gandalfs adventures into the appendices continue to engage, although never quite take full flight despite the delightfully trippy introduction of big-bad Sauron.
The sprawling cast all seem to be having fun, and sink their teeth into the little screen time they're given. Of course, some of the dwarves inevitably become background fluff, but kudos must go to Lee Pace as nasty bastard Elf king Thranduil, who is a nice counterpoint to Elrond and Galadriel. Big up also to arian uber-hunk Orlando Bloom who almost steals the film as Legolas. His succession of ridiculously over the top but fun action beats is an obvious but pleasing nod to his famed over the top scenes in the original trilogy.
She-elf Tauriel is also decent addition, adding much needed femininity to an otherwise entirely blokey affair, although the hokey subplot about her and fit dwarf Kili is a bit lame, but it doesn't detract greatly from the rest of the film.
Stephen Fry is pleasingly unctuous as the self serving Master of Laketown, although a tad underused. It would be no surprise if many of his excised scenes end up in next years extended edition.
Elsewhere, we find Weta digital delivering awesome spectacle in the effects department, particularly with that titular dragon, who really is a sight to behold. Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a characteristically wicked performance, his voice echoing through the Dwarvish halls like a supersized Darth Vader. Much like the Gollum scene in the first film, his scenes with Bilbo are one of the highlights of the film.
Come the final cliffhanger ending (which may wind a few people up), it's hard to fault Jacksons effort. While still falling slightly short of his own very high bench mark, it's a definite improvement on part one. A succession of glorious New Zealand postcard views, wonderfully esoteric characters and spectacular action, Desolation of Smaug is tantalisingly close to being that new Middle Earth film we wanted. Good work, Sir.
Bring on part 3!
4/5
For three glorious winters a decade ago, a cheerful bearded fat man delivered a trio of specatular and gorgeous Christmas treats to cinemas around the world. Rich in detail, monumental in scope and universally acclaimed, Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings is a supreme achievement in modern cinema. It would take a brave man to even attempt to repeat the feat.
And yet, after years of fannying about in development hell, last year came An Unexpected Journey. The first of a whole new trilogy of Tolkeiny goodness, a chance to revisit Middle Earth and relive some of those precious memories.
Or that was the idea, anyway. Unfortunately for many, An Unexpected Journey never quite managed to take flight in the way that it's esteemed predecessors did. Dogged by pacing problems and sometimes lacking a certain magic that made the earlier trilogy so wonderful, it wasn't quite the immediate classic we'd hoped for. Of course, The Phantom Menace, this was not. Sure, it took a while to get going, but once it did it still had plenty going for it. Gollum, those wonderful middle earth vistas, hair raising action... Sir Ian in that big hat. It was all quite lovely, but it wasn't perfect.
So, one year on, where are we? What of Smaug?
Opening with a neat flashback in a familiar pub, Desolation breezes out of the gates and takes flight through a seeming infinity of action and plot towards a roaring climax with onehelluva dragon.
As with every Jackson film, we're clocking in here at close to three hours, but it's three very fast hours. Indeed, as strange as it sounds, I find myself wanting more time with these characters once the film closes out. After years of watching extended editions on DVD, the original trilogy became more like a mini series that I'd watch in dribs and drabs. Voluminous as this film is, it's clear to see some of the cuts he made that will surely be slotted back in come the inevitable extended DVD.
That being said, we're not missing any great detail here, and of course, many purists will gripe about the inflation of a slender tome into a 9 hour uber-trilogy, but to be honest anyone who does is missing the point. As an adaptation of a book, a few liberties are taken and Jackson crams in extra details from Tolkeins own writings, but... as a film, a slice of cinematic entertainment, it works very well indeed.
In fact, one can't quite shake the feeling that the film is trying to shake off the sins of its forebear: it's notably short on the plot-lite standing around on the first film, and heavy on the zippy action and story development of the earlier trilogy.
In trimming out much of the expositional mud that tainted the first film, here we have a pace and lightness that characterises Jacksons best work. A multitude of action sequences, each as dazzling and entertaining as the last clatter along while a plethora of characters and beasties zip across the screen in breathless fashion.
Of course the film isn't short of flaws. While all are fun, some of the action seems a tad unnecessary, particularly elements of the final Smaug showdown which runs a tad long. But it's a small gripe when other elements are so rousing. The much touted barrel set piece in particular is, excuse me, barrels of fun (sorry). A particular moment involving rotund dwarf Bombur had me grinning very widely indeed.
Meanwhile, Gandalfs adventures into the appendices continue to engage, although never quite take full flight despite the delightfully trippy introduction of big-bad Sauron.
The sprawling cast all seem to be having fun, and sink their teeth into the little screen time they're given. Of course, some of the dwarves inevitably become background fluff, but kudos must go to Lee Pace as nasty bastard Elf king Thranduil, who is a nice counterpoint to Elrond and Galadriel. Big up also to arian uber-hunk Orlando Bloom who almost steals the film as Legolas. His succession of ridiculously over the top but fun action beats is an obvious but pleasing nod to his famed over the top scenes in the original trilogy.
She-elf Tauriel is also decent addition, adding much needed femininity to an otherwise entirely blokey affair, although the hokey subplot about her and fit dwarf Kili is a bit lame, but it doesn't detract greatly from the rest of the film.
Stephen Fry is pleasingly unctuous as the self serving Master of Laketown, although a tad underused. It would be no surprise if many of his excised scenes end up in next years extended edition.
Elsewhere, we find Weta digital delivering awesome spectacle in the effects department, particularly with that titular dragon, who really is a sight to behold. Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a characteristically wicked performance, his voice echoing through the Dwarvish halls like a supersized Darth Vader. Much like the Gollum scene in the first film, his scenes with Bilbo are one of the highlights of the film.
Come the final cliffhanger ending (which may wind a few people up), it's hard to fault Jacksons effort. While still falling slightly short of his own very high bench mark, it's a definite improvement on part one. A succession of glorious New Zealand postcard views, wonderfully esoteric characters and spectacular action, Desolation of Smaug is tantalisingly close to being that new Middle Earth film we wanted. Good work, Sir.
Bring on part 3!
4/5
Thomas Shutt
**This review was originally written for York Vision
**This review was originally written for York Vision
Sunday, 10 November 2013
In Review: Gravity (2013)
Gravity (2013)
Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong", and so it is with Gravity. Over the course of a spry ninety minutes, writer/director Alfonso Cuarón deftly guides us through a maelstrom of nerve racking calamity in one of the most visceral and nail biting films of the last decade.
The story is simple: When a collision destroys their Space Shuttle, astronauts Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) must fight for their lives and attempt to return to Earth. Yet, contained within this linear, intimate narrative are some of the most universal and hefty themes in cinema: Death and rebirth; the heroes journey and the simple beauty of existence.
Throughout, Gravity is permeated by loneliness and fear, a constant sense of unease. What do you do when faced with the immensity of nothingness, isolated and drifting away from everyone you've ever known? This is a film where the emotional journey and the sensorial experience are given an equal billing.
In a film where fully 90% of the imagery is created in a computer, the boundary between what's real and what is not is totally indistinguishable. Kudos most go to effects house, Framestore, their work here is cracking. The use of 3D, meanwhile adds subtle embellishment to the already sublime vistas, placing you in an infinite depth of field, or adding gentle texture. Much like last years similarly gorgeous Life of Pi, rather than the gaudy excesses of, say, Avatar.
Tension is heightened by Steven Price's simple, almost ambient score pulsating and ratcheting up the strain before ebbing away to provide a subtle counterpoint to some brief moment of serenity. It's unconventional, yet eerily beautiful.
Meanwhile, Cuarón's roving camera, constantly alternating between objective and subjective perspectives, blurs the line between what it is to watch a film and feel like you're an active participant. The use of long, unbroken shots is something of a Cuarón specialty (the ambush from Children of Men springs to mind), but here he takes it much further. A bravura 13 minute opening shot is, with only slight hyperbole, one of the most astounding sequences in cinema history and is worth the admission price alone. Indeed, the film is littered with moments of pure, lingering glory. Several images conjuring the work of such luminaries as Spielberg or Kubrick; a fetal Bullock in particular harking directly back the latters iconic Star Child.
But while this film does share some of the transcendental and meditative DNA of 2001, the short run time serves to make Gravity far more of its own beast; a taut and efficient fairground ride. Here is the overwhelming sense of some unstoppable force propelling us towards the conclusion, that this chain of events won't stop until we hit the ground. Gravity is apt a title as there could be.
And of course there's plenty of philosophy and theology to chew on; multiple oblique references to religious symbolism hinting that salvation may ultimately lay out of Stones hands entirely. The repetition of the key phrase "in the dark" almost becomes a mantra, not just to an absent mission control, but a lonely prayer to some other benign force out there who may or may not be listening.
Meanwhile umbilical chords literally connect characters together for much of the film, Cuarón exploring the topic of parental attachment and loss that has run through his work all the way back to A Little Princess. Doctor Stones psychological trauma over a recent tragedy unfolds in real time, as she inwardly and outwardly strains to propel herself from the perfect isolation back to the world of the living.
Of course, Gravity isn't perfect. The character of Matt Kowalski lacks depth, relying on the sheer gravitas (ahem) of Clooney's star power. A source of witty patter and gentle humour throughout, he's cool as a cucumber and just slightly too unbelievable. However, it's a small complaint, and ultimately not important when considering the overall arc of redemption and renewal that is so subtly handled by Bullock in the lead roll.
It's a subdued and natural performance, and one that deserves recognition. Her Ryan Stone carries us all the way to the final sublime moment, quietly emphasising the intrinsic value of the life we take so often for granted. Gravity is an ode to survival, a film about moving forward, picking yourself up and carrying on in spite of it all.
It's a thrilling and gorgeous piece of work, an instant classic.
5/5
Originally written for York Vision
Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong", and so it is with Gravity. Over the course of a spry ninety minutes, writer/director Alfonso Cuarón deftly guides us through a maelstrom of nerve racking calamity in one of the most visceral and nail biting films of the last decade.
The story is simple: When a collision destroys their Space Shuttle, astronauts Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) must fight for their lives and attempt to return to Earth. Yet, contained within this linear, intimate narrative are some of the most universal and hefty themes in cinema: Death and rebirth; the heroes journey and the simple beauty of existence.
Throughout, Gravity is permeated by loneliness and fear, a constant sense of unease. What do you do when faced with the immensity of nothingness, isolated and drifting away from everyone you've ever known? This is a film where the emotional journey and the sensorial experience are given an equal billing.
In a film where fully 90% of the imagery is created in a computer, the boundary between what's real and what is not is totally indistinguishable. Kudos most go to effects house, Framestore, their work here is cracking. The use of 3D, meanwhile adds subtle embellishment to the already sublime vistas, placing you in an infinite depth of field, or adding gentle texture. Much like last years similarly gorgeous Life of Pi, rather than the gaudy excesses of, say, Avatar.
Tension is heightened by Steven Price's simple, almost ambient score pulsating and ratcheting up the strain before ebbing away to provide a subtle counterpoint to some brief moment of serenity. It's unconventional, yet eerily beautiful.
Meanwhile, Cuarón's roving camera, constantly alternating between objective and subjective perspectives, blurs the line between what it is to watch a film and feel like you're an active participant. The use of long, unbroken shots is something of a Cuarón specialty (the ambush from Children of Men springs to mind), but here he takes it much further. A bravura 13 minute opening shot is, with only slight hyperbole, one of the most astounding sequences in cinema history and is worth the admission price alone. Indeed, the film is littered with moments of pure, lingering glory. Several images conjuring the work of such luminaries as Spielberg or Kubrick; a fetal Bullock in particular harking directly back the latters iconic Star Child.
But while this film does share some of the transcendental and meditative DNA of 2001, the short run time serves to make Gravity far more of its own beast; a taut and efficient fairground ride. Here is the overwhelming sense of some unstoppable force propelling us towards the conclusion, that this chain of events won't stop until we hit the ground. Gravity is apt a title as there could be.
And of course there's plenty of philosophy and theology to chew on; multiple oblique references to religious symbolism hinting that salvation may ultimately lay out of Stones hands entirely. The repetition of the key phrase "in the dark" almost becomes a mantra, not just to an absent mission control, but a lonely prayer to some other benign force out there who may or may not be listening.
Meanwhile umbilical chords literally connect characters together for much of the film, Cuarón exploring the topic of parental attachment and loss that has run through his work all the way back to A Little Princess. Doctor Stones psychological trauma over a recent tragedy unfolds in real time, as she inwardly and outwardly strains to propel herself from the perfect isolation back to the world of the living.
Of course, Gravity isn't perfect. The character of Matt Kowalski lacks depth, relying on the sheer gravitas (ahem) of Clooney's star power. A source of witty patter and gentle humour throughout, he's cool as a cucumber and just slightly too unbelievable. However, it's a small complaint, and ultimately not important when considering the overall arc of redemption and renewal that is so subtly handled by Bullock in the lead roll.
It's a subdued and natural performance, and one that deserves recognition. Her Ryan Stone carries us all the way to the final sublime moment, quietly emphasising the intrinsic value of the life we take so often for granted. Gravity is an ode to survival, a film about moving forward, picking yourself up and carrying on in spite of it all.
It's a thrilling and gorgeous piece of work, an instant classic.
5/5
Originally written for York Vision
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Good Year / Bad Year - Benedict and Jaden
This is a short filler piece originally written for York Vision
Good Year : Benedict Cumberbatch
Cult TV to global megahunk in barely a year? Not a bad effort at all.
After several years gathering an army of Cumberbitches from his TV work, Benny C (Yes, Benny C) hit BIG this year, receiving universal praise for his role as Kaaaaaaahn in the latest Star Trek film, showing off his intense brooding monologue skills as well as considerable action chops, he acted Chris Pines face clean off.
Meanwhile, a recent supporting role in the critically acclaimed Oscar bait "12 Years A Slave" (out here in a month or so) has also served to raise his profile somewhat.
And, ok, so he was also in the admittedly naff The Fifth Estate, which garnered, should we say, an apathetic response from the critical community. But his performance as golden haired super-creep Julian Assange was still well received and certainly hasn't harmed his upward trajectory.
That's not the end of it, either. The return of Sherlock next year is so highly anticipated there's rumors the BBC want to project it onto the moon, and murmurs of a starring role in the new Star Wars trilogy will surely help keep him on the radar for a while.
He also has an upcoming role as Enigma hero Alan Turing and (whisper it) he's also playing Smaug the Dragon in a little film called The Hobbit next month... so that might get a bit of attention as well.
Bad Year : Jaden and Will Smith. And everybody who made After Earth.
First up is the winner of the "Annoying Little Shit of the Year" Award, Jaden Smith for his role in the abomination that is After Earth.
Killed off by a complete lack of anything even resembling charisma and compelling narrative, the film was treated with what you might call an all-pervasive apathy by most cinemagoers and made about 50p at the box office.
Director M.Night Shyamalan who, let's be fair, has been having a bit of a shocker recently, probably wasn't the best choice to make the film, but it's still no excuse for the totally boring phoned in performances of all involved. Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian summed it up thusly: "Much like his dad, Jaden Smith shows no fear. Or any emotion. Or any acting talent of any sort." Ouch.
Meanwhile, An over saturation of un-earned smug whilst doing the promotional rounds surely can't have helped, nor can the faint whiff of Tom Cruise-esque weird Scientology nonsense spouted at an alarming frequency by his usually fairly reliable dad. Even wheeling out The Fresh Princes' Carlton to do the funny dance didn't help matters.
The pursuit of Happiness this was not.
Good Year : Benedict Cumberbatch
Cult TV to global megahunk in barely a year? Not a bad effort at all.
After several years gathering an army of Cumberbitches from his TV work, Benny C (Yes, Benny C) hit BIG this year, receiving universal praise for his role as Kaaaaaaahn in the latest Star Trek film, showing off his intense brooding monologue skills as well as considerable action chops, he acted Chris Pines face clean off.
Meanwhile, a recent supporting role in the critically acclaimed Oscar bait "12 Years A Slave" (out here in a month or so) has also served to raise his profile somewhat.
And, ok, so he was also in the admittedly naff The Fifth Estate, which garnered, should we say, an apathetic response from the critical community. But his performance as golden haired super-creep Julian Assange was still well received and certainly hasn't harmed his upward trajectory.
That's not the end of it, either. The return of Sherlock next year is so highly anticipated there's rumors the BBC want to project it onto the moon, and murmurs of a starring role in the new Star Wars trilogy will surely help keep him on the radar for a while.
He also has an upcoming role as Enigma hero Alan Turing and (whisper it) he's also playing Smaug the Dragon in a little film called The Hobbit next month... so that might get a bit of attention as well.
Bad Year : Jaden and Will Smith. And everybody who made After Earth.
First up is the winner of the "Annoying Little Shit of the Year" Award, Jaden Smith for his role in the abomination that is After Earth.
Killed off by a complete lack of anything even resembling charisma and compelling narrative, the film was treated with what you might call an all-pervasive apathy by most cinemagoers and made about 50p at the box office.
Director M.Night Shyamalan who, let's be fair, has been having a bit of a shocker recently, probably wasn't the best choice to make the film, but it's still no excuse for the totally boring phoned in performances of all involved. Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian summed it up thusly: "Much like his dad, Jaden Smith shows no fear. Or any emotion. Or any acting talent of any sort." Ouch.
Meanwhile, An over saturation of un-earned smug whilst doing the promotional rounds surely can't have helped, nor can the faint whiff of Tom Cruise-esque weird Scientology nonsense spouted at an alarming frequency by his usually fairly reliable dad. Even wheeling out The Fresh Princes' Carlton to do the funny dance didn't help matters.
The pursuit of Happiness this was not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)