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Reviews
What We Do in the Shadows (2019)
Eventually we all get there
This show seemed slow to find its feet (perhaps I'm not a natural Familiar) but now that it has it's become something really entertaining.
Guillermo wants so badly to be made a Vampire and can't understand that living a mere 70 or so years (perhaps less unless he sees a cardiologist and switches diets) makes him about as valuable as a pair of socks to a master who has 1200+ years under his belt.
But Guillermo's dedication to the task at hand and his blindness to the moral compromise he's had to make to be good at what he does is a major driver in this show. Indeed without him we'd be looking at a bunch of spoiled kids who blunder their way through eternity.
Characters to love nevertheless. Colin was tedious at first but his tedium became more endearing once I knew why it was his core activity. He develops well and endearingly. Nadja is perfectly formed for the drug-fuelled night-circuit in New York circa 1990 onwards but she's a great companion to Lazlo and their tumultuous (and improbably gymnastic and omnisexual) love affair is what binds them. Nandor is the best Daddy of them all, a binding grumbler, older than his 1200 years (he's already in his 1800's perhaps even 2000's) who holds the house together with his paternal pottering.
Colin is a jewel. We've all known a Colin if we've ever worked in an office and he's truly an outstandingly splendid explanation for those Colins who have drained the life out of us by waving a cheery Monday morning greeting and swerved to revector and rendezvous with us in the Tea Room to whiten our hair with tales of his weekend.
I'm a fan of Matt Berry (Toast of London, I Regress) and of Kayvan Novak but Natasia Demetriou is sex on legs, she's perfectly cast for this role.
Looking forward to more.
What We Do in the Shadows (2019)
Eventually we all get there
This show seemed slow to find its feet (perhaps I'm not a natural Familiar) but now that it has it's become something really entertaining.
Guillermo wants so badly to be made a Vampire and can't understand that living a mere 70 or so years (perhaps less unless he sees a cardiologist and switches diets) makes him about as valuable as a pair of socks to a master who has 1200+ years under his belt.
But Guillermo's dedication to the task at hand and his blindness to the moral compromise he's had to make to be good at what he does is a major driver in this show. Indeed without him we'd be looking at a bunch of spoiled kids who blunder their way through eternity.
Characters to love nevertheless. Colin was tedious at first but his tedium became more endearing once I knew why it was his core activity. He develops well and endearingly. Nadja is perfectly formed for the drug-fuelled night-circuit in New York circa 1990 onwards but she's a great companion to Lazlo and their tumultuous (and improbably gymnastic and omnisexual) love affair is what binds them. Nandor is the best Daddy of them all, a binding grumbler, older than his 1200 years (he's already in his 1800's perhaps even 2000's) who holds the house together with his paternal pottering.
Colin is a jewel. We've all known a Colin if we've ever worked in an office and he's truly an outstandingly splendid explanation for those Colins who have drained the life out of us by waving a cheery Monday morning greeting and swerved to revector and rendezvous with us in the Tea Room to whiten our hair with tales of his weekend.
I'm a fan of Matt Berry (Toast of London, I Regress) and of Kayvan Novak but Natasia Demetriou is sex on legs, she's perfectly cast for this role.
Looking forward to more.
Blandings (2013)
Wanted: Kind home ...
The problem with revisiting Wodehouse is that Jeeves & Wooster set the bar very high. Fry & Laurie were exactly the right men at exactly the right time. A resonance like that might come once in a generation. Even so, Jeeves & Wooster took a significant downturn by Series 3 when the action moved to America and Hugh Laurie began to heavily over-blow his accent. Whether this was due to pressure from US money or heavy handedness/drinking by the director/producers I don't know. The upside was that it enshrined the first two series in the pantheon of near perfection.
So to expect Blandings to be a palpable hit is quite a tall order. To compare it to J & W is probably a bit unfair, if understandable, and if Blandings had been written by someone else it might feel less of a crime. To find it to play like Worzel Gummidge - which for children was fine - in more opulent surroundings but with similar numbers of pratfalls and physical comedy - was quite a disappointment. It might be possible to rescue the apparently shredded lettuce of a plot that gestures feebly from each of the episodes. Whether it's worth the effort is another question.
One thing that always worked for me was Bertie W's habit of "climbing outside" his breakfast or "trousering keys". The euphemistic brilliance of Wodehouse wasn't designed for video but it could easily be added as dialogue because J & W was, essentially, a diary which leaves the adaptor free to get creative with the language or, when sensible, put in what Wodehouse wrote. But here in Blandings I see no evidence that the writer(s) noticed this gift.
I don't entirely fault the cast here, though Jennifer Saunders is irrevocably Edina Monsoon and appears to play all subsequent roles in a similar windmilling centre-of-the-universe way. Celia Imrie outshines her effortlessly. But even the best cast can't make up for lacklustre writing that lacks the bite, symmetry and coherence of Jeeves & Wooster. So, to me Blandings feels a bit like listening to Elgar's Land of Hope and Glory played on an ocarina accompanied by a jaw harp.
I've watched the episodes several times to try to get a clear idea of what's wrong but basically it's an unloved cushion with the stuffing leaking out. There might be a generation who take it to heart and love it even so, and that would be good because it needs a kind home. I just don't have the space.
Inside No. 9 (2014)
Tales of the Unexpected? Almost...
But a lot better in many respects. With only one episode left this has been an interesting ride.
Shearsmith & Pemberton work/write very well together and their pedigree is indisputable. Some of the twists could have been less telegraphed but overall the quality of the work is high and evident and its diversity will find fans amongst most viewers.
What works well is the casting done afresh for each episode (other than Pemberton and Shearsmith who are chameleons.) It shares the love and lends separation between tales. A mix of big hitters and new blood can make the writing shine.
I confess that Sardines was making me impatient at first - the mortifying awkwardness of Ian for example - but when we finally are given the reason for "Stinky" John's aversion to soap and the darkness really begins to gather it becomes compelling.
Tom and Gerri was a really sterling tale. The twist was neatly concealed and delivered with a sting. Gemma Arterton was a great choice for Gerri with that rare combination of flawless beauty and earthiness that is the golden rock to which Tom's life is moored. The pathetic figure of Migg was so woebegone that it made the thing work - who couldn't feel sympathy for such a bedraggled battered figure? So when things turn sinister it feels like a betrayal.
Last Gasp fell a little flat for me though Tamsin Grieg added a frisson with salty language and a heartless character. The Understudy was fun, particularly Pemberton's drunken thespianic rants and the twist another kicker.
Overall a splendid work. I sincerely hope these gentlemen can produce more like this because contemporary television needs all the help it can get.
--- update 2020 Feb 18 ---
Just recently caught up (as far as Zanzibar, more on that in a moment) and ... I see that I rated it 9/10 six years ago?
I'm older and wiser now so: 10/10 and holding fast.
I'll avoid spoilers but Zanzibar: being a big fan of Upstart Crow, to cast Helen Monks was delicious. (As I mentioned in another review of an In#9 episode "A Quiet Night In" in the use of Oona Chaplin for a largely silent comedy was a graceful nod. I've surely missed a hundred hidden homages and nods to past writers and works embedded in these little gems, a fine excuse for a few more viewings.)
To produce work of such consistently high quality, presented each time with a deep scoop of diverse plot (worthy of a mescaline trip) topped with fresh sprinkles of guest talent and wrapped in excellent production are what makes these series shine so very brightly.
I'm so proud that we have the supremely talented Misters P & S and that they have a voice.
(doffs hat)
Inside No. 9: A Quiet Night In (2014)
Less is More
If you saw Steve Pemberton in Benidorm you'll know that he has some great comic expressions. Yet in this he finds another level and mines it completely.
This is my first time seeing Reece Shearsmith and I was impressed by how well he and Pemberton work together.
The little touches multiply it all out from Pemberton's bobbing head as he tries to run quietly upstairs, his shamefaced eyes after the dog-window incident and Shearsmith's exasperation since he's the only one of the pair with a businesslike approach to the job and he's partnered with a dolt. Gerald (Dennis Lawson) discovering that one cupboard is full of housemaid as he tries to hide his girlfriend and, with a slight shrug, switching to the other cupboard.
The timings are impeccable and when Pemberton and Shearsmith synchronise their movements the effect is splendid. Though it was not an homage to the silent era - to which at least one of the cast has a blood-connection - it showed every bit of respect and understanding of how those early days founded the grammar used in this. The camera work was solid; close up shots magnify small facial expressions and it's easy to over-articulate in a tight framed shot and these guys were so animated that it had to be mostly long-shots which heightened the comic effect. The arrival of Paul (Kayvan Novak) seemed like an intrusion - as indeed it was - but Novak played the role so well that he was soon a valued member of the party.
To play so many visual gags and wrap them up in/connect them with so little dialogue and still keep it funny is not as easy as this piece makes it look.
It seems churlish to be critical of the piece. But the trans-gender twist merely to set up the under-bed gag should have hit the cutting-room floor. Oona Chaplin is so feminine and shapely and the stand-in so obviously was neither that it was more than a stretch of credulity.
Some people apparently took issue with the dog scene which they felt was distressing and also the gun-play. Well, this is billed as a black comedy not some fuzzy-fold-farm Disney fest. In fact if they had seen the first episode and how that ended they'd have had some serious chills run down their back.
Indeed this might be the funniest - or least dark - of the set. These guys are tremendous writers and this stuff is really really good.
More please chaps! (P.S. Steve; please wear those teeth for your award acceptance speech).
Spy Game (2001)
Mostly interesting and entertaining
A fast paced thriller like this with lots of background needs some careful setting up and there wasn't much sophistication in the way it was done, but it worked surprisingly well considering.
As others have pointed out, there were some pedestrian errors in the props and sets not to mention Tom Bishop's (Brad Pitt) apparently ageless body. Not the director's fault, though he should have spotted at least some of these. Timelines were skewed and there were some glaring historical errors.
The ambitious Charles Harker (Stephen Dillane) drove the plot forward with force so we could compare that with Muir's (Redford) delicate, more productive touch. Muir and Harker had some interesting interplay which was cleverly written, well acted and nicely presented with great camera work, kudos to Tony Scott. Elizabeth Hadley (Cat McCormack) was an effective spanner in the works as the ambiguous go-between though I feel that Tom Bishop (Brad Pitt) took a big risk to get her back when, in a few months she could be back in Beirut. Bishop's difficulty with the harsh realities of his work were a bit thin: he must have known the risks he was taking not just for himself but for others in any way connected with him. Muir's rooftop warning seemed a little late, Muir had more faith in his protégé than he possibly deserved perhaps, but it was well phrased, well delivered and the filming of it worked exceptionally well for its novelty. (According to the DVD extras, Tony Scott stumped up $50k of his own money to pay for the helicopter to film that scene when the backers refused). Robert Redford consistently performs well. Whilst I don't feel he has much range (he's pretty much always Redford in any role) he makes up for it with intelligent shading of nuance. Brad Pitt gets by in a wooden way (nothing normally against him; in Interview With The Vampire, he and Cruise were outstanding) but this role called for nothing more than his usual bag of tricks.
An entertaining film with a nice balance of pacey action and thoughtful dialogue.
Carnage (2011)
Hilarity of life
Time being short, the film had to step on the gas in several places.
In terms of dialogue and cast, not to mention great camera work, this film is as funny as it's characters are pretentious and phony (very).
Performances were great although Jodie Foster (and John Reilly) best nailed the drunkenness (though to be fair Christoph Waltz' character was running on an empty stomach) by showing that people don't have to be fitshaced to say asinine things or take stands against things they would normally defend.
Penelope's (Foster) veiny neck and extended jaw reminded me of a baby Alien as she spat and wept in her aloof loneliness. Jodie worked very hard in this part, what a trooper.
I liked all the characters, each had a viewpoint that was understandable for them, agreeable or not. The men were typically complacent and even Nancy (Winslet) was beginning to sink into apathy whilst Penelope was clearly only getting started and the crockery in the kitchen began to tremble in fear.
This is a splendidly funny film, though perhaps better watched without 18-year old scotch within reach.
The Good Shepherd (2006)
Intelligent and deep
No dead wood in this film, just a great script, great cast and great direction.
Damon's portrayal - based on James Jesus Angleton who, essentially, created the CIA from the OSS - was good in this case as he does stony silence better than most. His quiet unflappable manner spoke of still waters running very deep. The only kind of man for that job. John Turturro's lesser role still allowed him the space to work - the MKULTRA torture scene was difficult to pull off and still have the audience retain a skein of sympathy for Turturro's character. He managed it by convincing me that he was doing a difficult job as gently as possible. Was that a tinge of regret in his eyes? Robert de Niro was, as always, good and it didn't hurt that this role is not so far from the many mafiosi/goodfella type roles he has played in the past, only this time his suit was from an Ivy League tailor. Michael Gambon was brilliant as he fought to balance his loyalty with his duty and the secret that made him too vulnerable for it. "If you want to tie your shoelaces, I'll understand." Since Wilson didn't, Dr. Fredericks did it for him as a touching mark of respect. Alec Baldwin suited his role in this film and pleasantly surprised me with previously unseen gravitas. Interesting cameo from Keir Dullea, not sure why they bothered as he said perhaps three words. Angelina Jolie did well with her character who was pitiably in the wrong marriage, though Daisy's capriciousness was the reason why.
The time-lines were handled well. I tend to dislike choppy flashbacks and out of sequence stuff ever since that tedious Tarantino made it a fashionable gimmick in Pulp Fiction. But here, it works. There's a cleverly subtle washed-out look to the latter day scenes that make the past look more vibrant as only nostalgia can deliver and that helped cue when time-lines switched. It was as though Wilson was becoming disenchanted with the job though, clearly, he was the kind of man who would see it through to the end because he knew it was fundamentally important to his country. Some think the pace was poor but there was a lot of setting up needed to understand how this intricate house of cards came to be. Some think that Damon's character was dull. In a sense that's true; dull because he was so incredibly meticulous which, again, is the lifeblood of the agency. Musclebound thugs and vainglorious have-a-go heroes can be found in any bar in any city on earth. They're the blunt instruments that are precisely what the agency doesn't need except in very rare circumstances where they need a to set a dog to eat a dog.
Technically the film was very easy on the eye, great cinematography and atmospheric sets and lighting placed us right beside Wilson as he learnt his trade and moved his chess pieces. This is the kind of deep plotty Gordian knot that should be sipped and savoured like a tall drink.
Nell (1994)
Jodie's zenith
In "Nell", Jodie Foster gives, arguably, the best performance of her life. Clearly, she invested deeply in the role and her genuine strength and inner beauty shine so brightly into the character that Nell's beauty and loneliness become completely convincing.
The story is more idealistic than realistic (as allegories are wont to be) which is worth remembering throughout - not least when it comes to the courtroom scene. I appreciated the sentiment of that scene whilst privately wishing it had been a closed hearing (full for a custody hearing?) Despite some ragged plot problems (that USGS wouldn't know about the Kellty homestead, that Nell is in really good health, that the lads who deliver her groceries never appear to discuss the 'strange hermit woman' with anyone, and so on) the story staggers to the finish line with an overly idyllic ending.
Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson support well locking horns convincingly over which was to become Nell's champion until they realised that Nell wasn't a trophy for an academic white paper. Nell becomes the adopted child, the glue that binds Neeson and Richardson's characters' emotional attachment.
The film has some poetic cinematography and good location. But it is Jodie Foster's ability to play crushingly tender moments (the mirror, the lake, the effective memory) that - I'm happy to admit - still bring me to tears and is why I don't watch it a lot. It's a good film for couples who either have, or want to have, children. When you see it, I hope you'll understand why.
Munich (2005)
Surprisingly inept and trite
In this depiction of the Spring of Youth and Wrath of God operations following the Munich "massacre", we're expected to believe that, with a heavy heart, the Israelis decide to exact revenge on those responsible. I'll avoid the topic of historical and ethical clumsiness in this film because opinions on them abound and this review would become a book.
When Zwaiter fell forward onto his groceries he then magically flipped onto his back for the next view. Judging by the weapons, he was shot with at least .380 cal rounds yet a smaller (.22 centrefire?) calibre cartridge case was picked up. With 10 torso shots (though a grocery bag containing glass vessels of liquid: deflection/retardation) and none to the head, many people could survive.
The film continued it's ineptitude so remorselessly that I only watched to get the thing out of the way. The characters are thin, foolish and laughable, particularly Steve (Daniel Craig) dancing and suggesting they go to Libya to extend their mission. In the scene with Louis (Mathieu Amalric) and Avner (Eric Bana), sensitive topics are discussed in a public place using plain rather than implied language.
If this were just an action-thriller the theatrics and ineptitude would be fine but it's supposed to be a serious topic about an abhorrent government policy and that makes a mockery of its overall intent. Whatever it may be. The point is well enough made but I had little sympathy for Avner by the close of the film. The cast do a passable job, Geoffrey Rush is his usual professional self but Daniel Craig needed to talk to a South African for longer to get his accent right.
The Blood of Others (1984)
Vee haff vays of makink you balk.
Not having read de Beauvoir's book (on which this film is based) my complaints may be unjust to one or the other.
The pace is uneven, as though chunks of the story were skipped to cut to the milestones. Other films manage to do the same without appearing choppy as this does. Barely has Hélène (Jodie Foster) met Jean (Michael Ontkean) and she is talking about marriage. When he discovers she is pregnant, suddenly the idealistic Jean declares his love for her despite Hélène's transparently manipulative modus.
The overall story is compelling, considering the source this is perhaps unsurprising, and the film tries to do some justice to it. The acting is passable; Ontkean did better than I expected him to do but Jodie did worse than she normally does: this is one of several films she made in her wilderness years of self-doubt, and it shows.
I suspect the unevenness of pace was because the screenplay was a poorly balanced abbreviation of the book.
Some criticisms. Post-production dubs of outdoor scenes sound like they were recorded in a room - obviously they were but didn't need to sound like that - and the audiovisual sync - or lack of it - betrays which segments of the soundtrack these are.
The entire dialogue should have been in French and, since there's no French equivalent (AFAIK), we would have been spared "geddowdahere" from Jodie who speaks near-perfect accent-less French.
The story has great potential, after all it's from a critically acclaimed book, but was ultimately let down by the direction.
The worst moment came, for me, at the end of the film when Jean embraces Hélène thereby moving the bullet in her lung to somewhere even less convivial. Besides being idiocy, it made me want to quietly lead Jean into another room and beat him unconscious.
Flightplan (2005)
Pull up! Pull up!
I saw this on a recommendation without having seen the trailer or knowing anything about the plot. Hah. A plot with so many flaws imponderables and requiring such an immense amount of luck and corruption can best be described as a lunatic fantasy. Be that as it may. As soon as he came into shot with his soft-spoken axe-murderer voice and low-blink gaze it was clear that Gene Carson (Peter Sarsgaard) was up to no good.
Though the acting is passable (no new ground broken by any of the cast), the film has almost no believable plot elements nor consequences. It's a popcorn flick designed to elicit a sympathetic response from any viewers who are parents and who have ever worried about losing their child in a public place (i.e. just about any parent). It highlights the moronic hysteria and government-sponsored racism (profiling is, I believe, their word for it) that followed Sept. 11th attacks, but not in a useful or novel way.
Showing how some would never lose faith in their own viewpoint whilst others would at least entertain the possibility that they had imagined that the daughter was alive when she wasn't worked (barely) only because the parent was a woman. A man couldn't have played that role without being thrown into the sissy basket. (The part was originally written for a man but Foster, by her own admission, suggested she could play it. Then she pocketed her knuckle duster.) Some questions: How can an engineer who works on engines know so much about the airframe and it's electrical system? How come Kyle and her daughter aren't bleeding from every aperture in their head after the concussion of an explosion that should have turned them into gazpacho? But then, how can ... never, mind, it'd take a novel to list the mistakes with this plot ... and I'm not a screenwriter.
Occasionally even Hollywood Royalty backs a blind three-legged nag to win the Derby. The plot seemed to alternate between predictable and utterly ridiculous held together, it seemed, by a fervent belief the the average film-goer could be outwitted by a sanitary pad. As for Jodie's call/pitch to take the role, I don't understand. With immense talent and a high-powered intellect she can work whenever she wants on the films she likes to do. Skip the mohitos in development meetings would be my advice.
Still, she got (well) paid and this drivel made nearly five times back what it cost to make. For anyone with their wallet/seat where their brain should be, it was a hit. No wonder the indie scene is expanding.
Maverick (1994)
Funny and warm
Maybe it wasn't really like this in the Old West but this film does fill me with the hope that at least sometimes it had these moments. This film is pure entertainment, not a historical documentary and certainly not, at any point, to be taken seriously. Maverick's (Mel Gibson's) character as a likable rogue had a surreal and very believable chemistry with Annabelle Bransford (Jodie Foster) and a pleasant nod to the "original" maverick that old standby, James Garner.
The humour is firmly tongue-in-cheek and Foster does indeed "do southern" very acceptably and looks as radiant as any woman in the role could. Her unique brand of energy, injured innocence, scheming minxicity (I made that up) and twangy edginess give the part a solid and definitive profile. No man of Maverick's marque (or any other for that matter) could resist chasing a temptress of such charm, beauty and duplicity through a hundred countries to get his money back and would indeed have a wonderful time doing it.
I'm not a Mel Gibson fan but this exceptional part was cast against type and Mel performed very well. As I said, the chemistry between Mel and Jodie is tangible, perhaps because they're close friends off-screen as well.
Garner is solid, if a little pedestrian (don't mistake it for gravitas Mr. G), but since he's already got his (metaphorical) halo it's hard to find fault with him and particularly for his acceptably human (if feigned) reluctance to join a firefight with a bunch of drunken outlaws. Joseph (Graham Greene) is outstanding as is Angel (fellow countryman Alfred Molina who has proved himself many times since) as the kind of necessary semi-villain/rogue types that help show Maverick, no angel himself, in a slightly less predatory light.
This film pretends to be nothing but what it is and that stands to its eternal credit. There's no doubt, given the cast performances, that this film was a hoot to make. Such films are vital to lighten our moods from the sombre turns they can take sometimes by reminding us that probably it was much worse in the past, and for exactly that reason, it might also have been quite a bit better.
Inside Man (2006)
If this is city hall, then I'm keeping my taxes.
Small details in films with a threadbare plot can sometimes redeem the overall work. Since details were clearly waved aside as unimportant, this film stood little chance.
Rather than go through the film with a fine tooth-comb, which others have already done and with more skill and patience than I, I'll just pick out a few memorable parts that grated with or disappointed me.
The dialogue between the Mayor (Peter Kybart) and Madeleine White (Jodie Foster) behind closed doors was ludicrous. We didn't need gratuitous insults to know that underneath her coolly demure exterior, White was largely made of tool steel. White's later comment to Frazier that her bite was much worse than her bark clearly signalled that we'd never see her fangs. And that was a pity.
Foster looked sensational in a power-suit and pullback and did what she could with her lines. Her conversation with Case at the wharf was only good because two outstanding actors were involved. Even then they struggled to make lemonade as they discussed a supposed super-secret within earshot of strangers.
I found the interplay between White and Case entertaining. Somewhat psychopathic high-fliers they circled each other warily. This, admittedly thin, role is a pleasant departure for Foster who frequently lands parts as the feisty (though always admirable) little battler. She has eyes that can convey almost any emotion so her most thrilling portrayal could be as a beautiful psychopath. (Hollywood please note.)
Frazier (Denzel Washington) was as flawed and potentially corrupt as all the others. Perhaps that was the message but it's not comforting to see that the price of this purportedly honourable cop was just a few carats of carbon allotrope that will allow him to bed his woman with the handcuffs, again. The self-congratulatory mutual butt-patting after Frazier and Mitchell's meeting with Case wasn't funny or light, just crass and ugly.
Not much to redeem this film: a promising cast for a mediocre movie with some bad messages.
Mesmerized (1985)
See it once so you can check it off the list
Victoria (Jodie Foster), a foundling, is arrange-married to a New Zealand businessman with the romantic skills (and respect for women) of a Playboy club keyholder. By modern day standards Oliver Thompson (John Lithgow) is brutish, though not, it should be said, by the standards of the time. Victoria shows increasing regret at how things have turned out, amplified by developing feelings for Oliver's brother George (Dan Shor) who, whilst he's no Emmeline Pankhurst, does have the virtue of knowing where his heart is. We meet Thompson sr. (Harry Andrews) and it soon becomes clear where Oliver's idiosyncratic character got its template. Some more demonstrations of brutishness and Oliver's penchant for watching his wife through holes in a wall as she disrobes, a perversion that the demure Victoria finds unbearable. She decides to leg it to the US with George but they are discovered aboard ship and George gets accidentally clonked on the thinkbox with a candlestick. Oliver and his father smooth things over by simply sending his carcass to America without an explanatory note, or even, apparently, a moment's regret. Now in true bondage Victoria settles into the role of attentive wife, and she is so attentive that Oliver suddenly falls ill. Victoria begins to look extremely sinister (why is it that extraordinarily beautiful women can do the chilling psychopathic-slow-burn look so well?)
Along comes the perplexed doctor Finch (Philip Holder) to save the day. But the doc's hippocratic oath is slipping as he admires Victoria's shapely ankles while Oliver attempts to speak, "Gwarhf! Phlurg! Flumsh!" In a scene not for the faint-hearted, the doc offers some typically Victorian bedside manner: "Please try to keep calm. I know that it hurts." Now, let's whip the rest of those pesky teeth out shall we? Mercifully the tortured Oliver soon checks out and is solemly buried, presumably with his teeth in his breast pocket in an envelope marked "Choppers".
In the final scenes which bring us back to the point we came in, Victoria is on trial. The good doctor seems to vacillate between honouring his oath and failing to fend off the image of Victoria's dainty feet which is clearly burning a hole in his trousers. The gambit works and Victoria assumes her place in civilised society where we find George anxiously waiting for her.
Substantively that's the story but there were some issues. The acting was passable though perhaps below the standard we have come to expect from the leading pair. At the time I think Jodie was having doubts about staying in the biz and this was one of several ducks in the years before "The Accused".
The accents were all over the shop. I don't know why Victoria has a cut-glass English accent if she grew up in New Zealand unless the foundling home was staffed by ex Girton girls. (It was unclear to me if the foundling home was in NZ or Blighty) The Kiwi accent is a brave, if variable, try by John Lithgow but he sounds Australian as do other players who attempt to sound correct. To the educated ear, Kiwi and Aussie are vastly different accents.
The music is very strange; eerie when it needn't be and absent when eerie would be appropriate. The editing is either deliberately bizarre else done between (or during) bouts of heavy drinking. These become less of an issue as the film progresses, hinting heavily at a tight deadline and/or a sudden shortage of whiskey. New Zealand is far more beautiful than this film portrays and the under-use of the location is a pity.
It's not a film to be watched often, or indeed, twice. But it can faintly entertain the one time.
Stealing Home (1988)
Why did she go?
Katie (Jodie Foster) fairly twangs with whiplash energy as the capricious golden-haired tornado passing though the centre of so many of the character's lives. But without the anchors of her friends she drifts into the rocks and sinks leaving a ragged gaping hole in the hearts of the people who loved her.
David Foster's soundtrack is evocative and nostalgic with a good pace. There are no real surprises in this film but the flashbacks are neatly put together and the cinematography is commendable - the cutaway shot of Katie in the hammock looking wistfully out to sea is an image that lingers as it embodies the time it portrays. A time when almost anything seemed possible.
The film is a moving portrayal of how big a space is left behind by people who deliberately leave the game ahead of their time.
The Chronicles of Riddick (2004)
Welcome to the Under...pants
When Mr. Vincent/Diesel accepted this role, I'm sure he was thinking about the loot rather than "what the flying flapjack was the writer/director playing at?" Aping Ridley Scott's style in every way except his talent we understood immediately what the Underverse would be like. Dark. Foreboding. Portentous. All the time. Nobody will rest. Or eat. People will fight. And sneer. All the time. Lines will be delivered. In small. Pieces. There was only one tiny thing wrong with the screenplay: the words. Oh ... and the plot.
Please pass me a set of lightly gritted teeth. No ... wait ... they're already on screen. As a fan of Pitch Black I know Diesel can do better and I certainly know Judi Dench can. Most of the cast was OK, considering that their lines were tediously portentous and pompous without the slightest sprinkle of conviction. The sets were impressive and the cinematography particularly so as the grips managed to do their jobs without flailing to the ground in a tangle of cables they couldn't see. At one point Dench appeared to be addressing a pillar and my hopes briefly rose that the pillar might have some insightful lines to relieve the tedium. Alas, the pillar remained wisely silent, probably as instructed by its agent.
Thandie Newton's (as Dame Vaako) slinky appearance added a certain frisson but her time on camera was short and even if she had done a slow striptease it probably wouldn't have helped the overall film.
For die-hard sci-fi fans who can suspend their disbelief powerfully enough, I think the film may entertain. It has action and scrapping and the like. But for anyone who likes a believable plot with half-intelligent dialogue this is a film to see either st*ned or tr*pping. Even then you may feel the urge to boo. If you're still conscious.
Svengali (1983)
Good work, weakish plot
This story was more engaging because Peter O'Toole took the role (the kind he does best) and multiplied it up. Also he had a very capable co-star to do it with.
The story was mostly engaging up to the point Zoe (Jodie Foster) develops feelings for her teacher Bosnyak (O'Toole). Though understandable, when she began her overtures I expected Bosnyak to keep her at arm's length until she understood that he wasn't the talisman she thought. Understandable she would think so, yes. Understandable that Bosnyak would find it difficult to resist her amorous advances, hoo yes! But Bosnyak, no stranger to involvement with his pupils, knew the inevitable result of involvement - at odds with his assertion that the teacher-pupil relationship was a "sacred trust."
Still, Zoe was heading for the stars with only her philandering ex-boyfriend hanging onto her ankles threatening to keep her earthbound.
Though not a trained singer, Jodie can carry a tune and the performance she gives of "One Dream at a Time" was good enough to fill the part. She couldn't be good enough to convince us that she could take a more classical route in singing though it's how I would have preferred the story to unfold. This film has its moments.
Mr. Bean (1990)
Some get it, some don't.
Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) was evidently heavily influenced by M. Hulot (Jaques Tati). The difference is that Atkinson's Mr. Bean has a level of malevolence (perhaps mischievousness is kinder), a child-like irresponsibility and unwavering social ineptitude oscillating between crippling self-consciousness and steely defiance. It's unsurprising, then, that Mr. Bean has no evident friends, though it's equally true that he doesn't really need any. What he does cherish (Teddy, his Mini) with fond sentimentality shows his need for companionship but he can get by without it. I think this was intentional: to show us that there's a Mr. Bean in all of us sometimes.
The mostly visual humour has a certain strange logic with ingenious, often improbable, solutions. Bean is as funny when he gets into scrapes as he is when he casually dunks a fly in his orange juice with the comically feigned air of a man who does this kind of thing routinely. For the most part Bean triumphs in the face of adversity and when he doesn't he is soon back to his jaunty child-like self. Essentially a positive character who is as wearied as the rest of us with a world full of hold-ups and seemingly senseless rules he can usually find a way around difficulties that most of us would have to think long and hard about and in some cases abandon our consciences.
The apparent effortlessness of the humour modestly hides the considerable work behind it. The limited number of episodes represent a lot of time and thought and they're more precious for their scarcity. Better a small glass of fine wine than a gallon of plonk.
It seems people love this character or hate him with little middle-ground. If you're in the first group you'll appreciate the careful construction of the situations wherein even the smallest gestures (such as looking sharply up at the new TV set whilst balanced awkwardly on a chair) can bring unexpected hilarity. But nothing can match the scene on board the aircraft, particularly his expression in the final frame.
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
A humdrum reprise
If you've not seen the original TV series or read Le Carre's book then this film may fare better with you.
Technically the film worked well and Smiley (Gary Oldman) was word and gesture perfect - if Alec Guinness' original portrayal was the yardstick. Connie (Kathy Burke) had some depth as a romanticised mother figure for her 'boys' since the glamour of her job as queen of the filing cabinets was otherwise nonexistent. With the pace of a man assembling an orchid using tiny tweezers and a pile of atomic dust, the atmosphere of mistrust unfolded. The dark, tedious smoke-screened world of intelligence gathering was well conveyed. These were, essentially, selfish, backbiting bureaucrats more compelled to burnish their names than get the job (whatever it may be this week) done. Agents are courted, controlled and casually discarded leaving the viewer wondering why anyone would take on such a thankless task and, indeed, if it ever really was like that.
Why this had to be re-made (leaving aside the obvious hunt for more money) escapes me. Though the cast was solid with a very believable Alleline (Toby Jones) and Lacon (Simon McBurney), it's still a humdrum reprise. The original TV series, though it moved turgidly, had more depth. Remakes are rarely an improvement on the originals (though it depends which you see first) and in this case it didn't bring anything new to the story.
Black Hawk Down (2001)
Technical masterpiece, historically selective
As always Ridley Scott delivers an audiovisual feast. I would expect that the on-set ex-military advisors ensured that the scenarios and skills, including the language and tactics were as authentic as filming and military policy would allow. The DVD extras shows that the cast was sent to taste boot-camp (McGregor, Bloom) and Ranger training (Fitchner) so the commitment to realism was evident. For all those reasons: six stars.
Many people, however, rightly dispute the film's casting of the soldiers as a peacekeeping force. No government in the world uses special forces people for peacekeeping operations, by which I mean: restore order. It's entirely opposite to what they normally do, i.e. be used as a top-grade scalpel: only when "necessary" surgery is needed.
Decaptiating Aidid's regime would only create a power vacuum. It would not help the UN peacekeepers. Without a long-term commitment to the region, it was simply a period of upheaval that cost thousands more innocent lives. If only Somalia had oil reserves...
As a film, it's beautifully done. As propaganda, it probably hit the mark for people (i.e. Americans) who didn't bother (or want) to look too closely. Watch it for its beauty and its (at the time) groundbreaking tight camera shots and skillfully choreographed and executed events.
The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore (2011)
A worthy winner
A splendid film with many layered metaphors. Engaging and moving, well executed and paced. This film could be a precursor to some new and interesting talent in this genre, I certainly hope we hear more from the large team involved.
The trailer for this short wasn't adequate but I wonder if any trailer could have been. To sum up any elements in this film would miss several others and render the point confusing at best.
Books are our children, but unlike people they never die which means they can go on delighting us and our human children many years after their authors are dust. They can take us back in time to days of different ideas and different beliefs, they can transport us into the minds and hearts of others giving us a wide range of experience. In short, they're the Gutenberg version of the tribal tales that kept tradition and legend alive.
That's the core I got but there's a great deal more in this little gem of a short. Really worth seeing.
Up (2009)
Life is the adventure - though dreams never die, nor should they.
It's always a delight to find a completely original film. Often animation tries too hard to ape gritty realism or trite cartoonishness to be tediously impactful or overly cute, respectively. This film does neither. Pixar seems fated to produce (for the most part) great films and they should be very proud of this one.
The human observation (with, I felt, a vaguely Tati-esque feel) and the soundtrack complement the charm and comedy. From the opening scenes, through the montage of Carl's life to this point - a mere 10 minutes of run time - I was already quietly mopping my peepers. I moved easily from that to laughter as Carl began his day as a tired old curmudgeon. If this film doesn't move you several times from laughter to tears and back again then, lucky you: some great living and loving lie ahead.
The quality of the animation; the lushly realistic textures, the incredible lighting, the wryness of character movements all multiply the feel and atmosphere. The look has a satisfyingly retrograde feel reminiscent of "The Incredibles" with some "Triplets of Belleville" and "Ratatouille". Clearly it will only be a decade or two before animation can be indistinguishable from reality if the film makers wish it so. This is not really a children's film; adults past thirty will easily appreciate the rich sadness and comic redemption. Perhaps the children need to wait a bit to see it.
Deserving of its high rating, this is easily the best animation feature .. SQUIRREL!! ... I've ever seen.
Caligola (1979)
Zzzzzzzzzzzz
When I first saw this I was intellectually and experientially disadvantaged and for those reasons (but mostly because I scarcely remembered it) I decided to see it again, nearly 30 years later.
On a set copied sedulously from a down-at-heel Chinese brothel populated by people gathered from the Strip on any 70's Saturday night in LA, Tiberius (Peter O'Toole) with fragments of post-it's stuck all over his withered face, mouths fatuous plasticine dialogue as Caligula (Malcolm McDowell) looks on in starry-eyed adoration. Later Caligula gets to play a much hackneyed role from a San Francisco bath house in the 80's (perhaps even the 1880's). If Caligula were indeed the dissipated creature he has oftentimes been portrayed (a _very_ early devotee of carnality with his sister for example) it's hardly likely that he would find Tiberius' unsustainable Brothelicon a shining beacon of desire.
Leaving aside the underplayed (and mostly redundant) carnal component of this cornucopia of calamitous cinematic crap, one wonders if any of the people involved consulted even a single (sober or soused) historian prior to writing. Rome, like victorian England, had its twisted sides but such things were never secret for long and, for all the Praetorian Guard's prowess, the people would not have taken this kind of thing ... um ... lying down, for long. But that's to poke a hole in a swiss cheese the size of Switzerland.
The thing about cinematic catastrophes such as this is that the director gets his cake either way. He can always claim it was a genius challenge for which the jaded establishment public were inadequately prepared, else he can claim it was a sensitive and humorous parody, which the dim-witted public could not appreciate and thereby missed the inverted/reflected brilliance of his double-bluff to their parodied middle-class bourgeois values.
It's not a terrible film; there are many worse. It is a notorious film, and for all the wrong reasons. The sets are dark enough to take our minds off their paucity. The dialogue is sparse enough to take our minds off it's painfully skeletal composition fleshed out with fatuousness. The acting is scarce enough to take our minds off. Gielgud was so completely discomfited by his role, he seemed to be speed-reading his lines off his mental teleprompter so he could get off the set and wrap his tortured soul around a warm amontillado and call his agent for a rant and recompense.
I'd say, if you're /really/ bored and this is sitting by the player, load it up and flop into a beanbag. You may fall asleep, but if you don't, then at worst you'll only wish you had.
The Bad Seed (1956)
Chilling and engrossing
There's something distinctly unsettling and familiar about this pigtailed little sociopath. Rhoda (ably played by an 11-year-old Patty McCormack) reminded me of when (as a child myself) I encountered one of these intelligent, prim, beautiful and deadly little spiders. My innocence at the time spared me the goosebumps I get now.
A key component that works in this is the loss of trust. Once it's gone any normal relationship is doomed - sooner or later - to sleeping (assuming one can) with one eye open. The lies and doubts pile up until there are no reference points as all the depth markers disappear.
Structurally and cinematographically the film is unremarkable for its time, but the story is generally compelling, the dialogue well paced and the atmospherics are conveyed discreetly enough that we scarcely notice as the plot and players engross us.
The story moves slowly because it has to, at times it seems interminably slow - perhaps it was better as a play. To only get audio and Christine's face for the cellar incident was masterful. Nancy Kelly's expression tells us everything as she is visibly crushed between what she knows and her love for her daughter. The film is worth the time spent as it accelerates towards the end with the speed and momentum of a falling piano. When a plot fools me I invariably enjoy the film. However just when it should have naturally ended, it kept going. Even so it was entertaining.
A generally good supporting cast with outstanding performances by Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack and Henry Jones. If you like plotty thrillers that hint and use the viewer's imagination, this film will not disappoint.