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Peeping Tom (1960)
Anyone writing this off in the past needs to rewatch.
I'm here thanks to Martin Scorsese. His Powell and Pressburger documentary is a great watch, entertaining and informative. Most of the films covered, I've watched, but I've never before seen Peeping Tom. This is Powell without Pressburger and a radical departure from the films they made together. It's rather sinister and salacious. Mark Lewis (Karlheinz Böhm) likes to murder people, women specifically and to film them screaming as they die. That sounds horrible doesn't it and it is, but made in 1960, this has an almost Hitchcock tone to it. There's no gore, it relies on the cinematic trick of what you don't see. We're in London, everything is stiff upper lip and wotnot, but there's a seedy underbelly not far beneath the surface as the city's starting to swing. This in essence is the hook. What's sociably acceptable and what everyone gets up to behind closed doors... well aside the murdering bit. Mark is a loner. Awkward, he doesn't fit in. He has a haunting air about him that distances him from both the respectable and the deviants. His solace is the camera. Photographing girls for the local soft porn pedalling newsagent, filming his secretive documentary, oh and yes the murdering. As serial killers go he's rather likeable, hence me footnoting the murdering. He's shy, interesting. Helen (Anna Massey) thinks so. She's the neighbour downstairs, his tenant actually, although he's very much the humble bohemian with his long overcoat and scooter, rather than gentrified landlord. This could be simple schlocky thriller stuff, but as we learn more about Mark and his past through Helen's intrigue, there's more to this than meets the eye. Vivian (Moira Shearer) likes him too. She wants to be a star, but Mark has other plans... and he does have a plan, he wants to be caught. The acting style is very much of its time and it's more charming than anything else, seen through modern eyes. The whole thing is dramatically theatrical, with wonderfully overblown characters. Like Helen's mother (Maxine Audley) who very nearly steals the show. Its slasher movie voyeurism was highly controversial on release. I can understand why, but 60 years on it plays really well. The truth is although it's not perfect, it is really good and if snooty old critics couldn't see that, their loss. It's just a shame that it pretty much canned Powell's career.
Dead Calm (1989)
Great set up, slowly sinks.
I thought I'd watched this before, years ago around the time of release, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I just saw the poster. I've favourable memories of it for whatever reason, which might seem a bit shallow. John (Sam Neill), a navel officer, comes home to some bad news, losing his son in a car crash. He nearly lost his wife Rae (Nicole Kidman) too. She survived but is unsurprisingly traumatised. So they head out on their boat, alone, for some space on the ocean, some time to grieve in the calm seas. That's the idea anyway. All is well until a battered boat appears on the horizon. Its only living passenger is Hughie (Billy Zane), who tells a story of his food poisoned mates, now dead on board his sinking schooner, after he rows to John and Rae's and apologises for ruining their day. The calm is well and truly over. I say his story, it's clear he's hiding something. Zane has the face for this doesn't he. What is it about his eyes and demeanour that suggests he's not to be trusted. Rae empathises with his traumatic tale, but John doesn't trust him, smells a rat. Something that's confirmed when he finds bodies on Hughie's boat and finds himself alone in a dinghy, as Hughie steals his boat with Rae aboard! It's a gripping set up, but sadly this is as good as it gets. John has to use all his seamanship to salvage Hughie's abandoned death boat and rescue Rae. Neill is great, Kidman is too, Zane is over the top. Granted the role calls for unhinged psychotic but it's a bit much. After its frantic start, the second act is all about the slow building tension, as Rae tries to thwart Hughie's plans and John tries to stay afloat. This is its big issue, for far too long it just treads water. Kidman isn't given enough to work with and Zane just isn't strong enough. His role needs some menace, but he's too cartoon like to carry it. Thank god it all takes place in cramped spaces, the setting really is the only thing to make this tick. That and wanting to see Hughie get a bloody monumental kicking. It's not bad, but it's not great either and certainly not as good as I've remembered or made up in my head.
Les triplettes de Belleville (2003)
A must watch masterpiece.
It's been a while since I watched this, but I was watching the Tour de France earlier this year and felt the need to revisit. The Triplets in question are a 1920s singing cabaret act, but that's getting ahead. Madam Souza lives with her young grandson and dog in rural France. This is very French. The dog, Bruno has been introduced to try and entertain the bored grandson. It sort of works, but not as well as a bike! There's little dialogue, but the grotesquely styled animation is powerful. Time passes. Bruno gets fat, but the grandson gets stronger on the bike, training for the National obsession with the help of his grandmother. The training methods are wonderfully inventive, they're a real DIY team, including Bruno, who in typical animated dog tradition is more human than the humans. The Tour if you've never watched it is quite a spectacle. Riders battling the picturesque French countryside, followed by a caravan of support, reporters and of course fans. The grandson, now grown up, is all muscle and sinew and leading the race. His support of course, his loving grandmother and Bruno. Until... sabotage! Madam Souza's van is taken out by burly box shouldered bad boys in black and our hero cyclist is kidnapped! He may be a champion cyclist with enviable stamina, but he's got that strength from his grandmother, who'll go to epic lengths, launching a daringly defiant rescue on the streets of New York. It's here she teams up with the Triplets, an equally resourceful and eccentric bunch, who help Madame Souza thwart the French mafia's dastardly games. It's fantastically creative, heartwarmingly funny and looks spectacular. A timeless piece of modern French cinema.
El hoyo 2 (2024)
A good idea pushed too far.
The Platform returns for a second helping. I enjoyed the first instalment. It had some issues, but it was largely an engaging horror with a lot of style and had some genuinely intriguing things to say about how we behave as a society. It drip fed its narrative well. Posing questions, letting the viewer do the work. This sequel does require you to have seen its predecessor really, but we get a bit more information upfront. Mainly about Zamiatin (Hovik Keuchkerian), he's on Level 24 with Perempuán (Milena Smit) and he has a problem. You see here, the food that decends through each cell isn't a free for all as before. Scoff all you want if you're at the top and leave those below you to stave. They've devised a system. Everyone has their dish. Selected in advance of entering The Pit. Everyone eats what they're supposed to and harmony is achieved. Except someone has eaten Zamiatin's pizza! I recall the last film starting with a slow menacing pace. This is certainly still menacing, but it's right into the action as a fight kicks off with the pizza thief on Level 21 and there are casualties, the first of many.
I liked the simplicity of The Platform, but things feel convoluted here. We learn through Robespierre (Bastien Ughetto) that this system is self imposed, a law, governed by trust, devised by one known as The Messiah. Zamiatin is new and skeptical. He's not violent, but he's not great at obeying rules. Perempuán though is and she's a positive influence. What makes this tick is the level reset every month. Although our friends start on Level 24 and learn to respect the law. It's much harder to keep in line when they find themselves on Level 180! The premise is simple as Perempuán explains to her new cellmate Sahabat (Natalia Tena), "If the law isn't respected, people die. The higher up you are, the more responsibility". Sahabat isn't new though and knows that the rules are worthless and no one survives. It's bleak stuff. The barbarians disobeying the rules are punished by The Anointed lead by Daging Babi (Óscar Jaenada), who dictates without mercy. Everyone else is expected to obey or face the gruesome consequences. Obviously things fall apart. This is a horror not a blueprint for utopia, but it would be better if the film itself didn't fall apart. The first film wasn't perfect, but it had clarity that matched the starkness of the uniform concrete world of The Pit. This though tries to build on it and its foundations just aren't strong enough.
Deadpool 2 (2018)
It's fun, I'll give it that.
I've seen Deadpool. I don't recall much. I think I thought it was okay. I've been encouraged to watch this sequel. I'm forever skeptical about sequels and Marvel comic superhero stuff leaves me a bit cold. Will I survive another 2 hours in the presence of so much spandex? I feel like I'm missing more than I'm getting. This is an immersive world, apparently bridging across multiple films with other characters I've not seen and know nothing about. So let's take this on surface. Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) talks a lot. This is actually helpful. He's upset, poor bloke and so decides there's only one way forward with an elaborate and yet simple suicide in the opening scene. So the next 2 hours are pointless? Let's see. I'd forgotten just how filthy this is... and violent. I've been watching a lot of gangster films lately and this makes them look tame as the blood flys along with the expletives as Deadpool does his work, which is as far as I can ascertain is, hitman, with a thing for Dolly Parton, Enya ...and AC/DC. It's about here that I have to Google to check something. He's losing a lot of blood in these fights, what the hell is going on? Important bit of info, he's essentially invincible, able to heal himself. Which is handy, but does destroy any element of peril. I guess that comes with his relationship with Vanessa (Morena Baccarin). I'll try to avoid spoilers, but let's just say he's on a journey. That's sounds wanky doesn't it. It is. The action, the sets, it's all fine. It's all fun, but to be honest it's really just the fourth wall breaking quips that set this apart. Without that it'd be pretty dull. Deadpool, Wade when the mask is off, is taken to a country pile with some other superhero mates for some R&R, whilst Cable (Josh Brolin) makes a grizzled appearance as a time travelling semi-terminator styled GI and Eddie Marsden with an American accent turns up in some horn-rimmed specs as a sadistic headmaster who's been watching too much Clockwork Orange. What the hell is going on?? The headmaster has Firefist (Julian Dennison), a young misunderstood lad with fire, fists. Hence the terrible name. He's a troubled lad, much like Deadpool and in need of rescue, much like Deadpool. So there's the mission. Help the kid, heal Deadpool's pain. I've watched this with the nagging feeling throughout that I'm missing something. Characters seem driven by a plot point I've missed. I don't believe it's been explained, it's expected you know and that for me is an issue. So instead I give up on the plot and just enjoy the copious action and jokes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't smile a lot and laugh in what I think were all the right places and that gun is indeed amazing, but this film isn't.
Casino (1995)
As good as, but quite different from Goodfellas.
I watched Goodfellas yesterday. A great film, but not quite as good as I remembered. I'm wondering if time has confused it with Casino in my mind. Let's see. I'd certainly forgotten this was 3 hours long! Like Goodfellas, it's another true story adaptation and it also starts with a preview of something horrific happening in a car. There are a lot of similarities in fact. Another tryptic lead cast, Sam (or Ace) (Robert De Niro) is the Casino boss in question, Ginger (Sharon Stone) his wife and Nicky (Joe Pesci) the right hand man nasty bloke muscle. They are all destined to fail. The Casino is legit, but what's behind it is as corrupt as you'd expect for a Scorsese picture. Sam and Nicky's narration leads us through the exposition. Introducing themselves and their world. How it all works, skimming a little money off the top of the take to line their pockets and their mafia bosses. They control the Casino, they control Vegas and Sam is their man. Sam's meticulous... and a gambler, but most important, he reads people as well as cards. Keeping everyone including the politicians and the law on side, keeping the big machine humming. I love the way Scorsese sets this up. It's again a heady mix of characters, connections and camera. Always on the move, scenes are tightly crafted. It's 3 hours, but nothing ever overstays its welcome. Sam is flying high, smoking cigarettes in sharp suits. A lone wolf type, in control of the pack. Enter, Ginger. She's the wildcard. A hustler. The hustler. She's what makes Casino tick. She makes sense in Vegas. Sam makes sense in Vegas. They have control. Nicky, he does not make sense in Vegas. He's a loose canon. Perfect for a gripping story that although on the surface seems complicated, is actually very simple. Sam makes a gamble marrying Ginger. He knows it. He probably knows it's a bad call, but he makes it. He's unaware of the power that Lester (James Woods), Gingers low life pimp like ex has over her. This is one pillar of Casino, everything revolves on this call he makes to trust his new wife. That's only one side of it of course. Ginger finds herself now controlled, rather than controlling. That isn't going to end well. The other pillar is Nicky, his temper and his sideline stealing after he's blacklisted by the FBI from the casinos. It's not really a gangster film until Nicky puts someone's head in a vice. Sam's once simple world slowly unravels. That's what Scorsese does best isn't it. Hold your hand while the world spins out of control. It's a wild ride packed with colourful characters, but you never feel lost. Ginger drinking, Sam making enemies with the yokel locals, Nicky providing the splatter. It wraps its way around you, immersing you it its world. Scorsese's that is. It's not Sam and Nicky's world. They refer to Vegas, as "out here" and "the dessert", it's not home and maybe that's the biggest problem. My one criticism if there is one, is Stone's Ginger is almost forgotten in the second act as Sam and Nicky begin to feud. It feels like a more well rounded film with her in it. Even when she's back in the picture, she's reduced to a pawn by the male characters around her. Pecsi and De Niro do what they do. These are the characters they're born to play. Pretty much the only character Pesci plays, but Stone, she's magnificent. Her story arc is the most extreme and she's delivers it masterfully. As great as it is, the journey is more satisfying than the destination... but there's really no excuse for getting it mixed up with Goodfellas.
Goodfellas (1990)
A mistaken meme brought me here.
Goodfellas is a terrifying film. This is why I've not rewatched it in decades. I'm here now because a meme reminded me of it, that's terrible reason to watch a film, but it's the truth and it's probably the truth that makes this terrifying. Although this is a dramatised account, it's based on the true story of Henry Hill (Ray Liotta). "As far back as I can remember I wanted to be a gangster", that's pretty much Henry's opening line as he shuts the trunk on a dead body killed by Jimmy (Robert De Niro) and Tommy (Joe Pesci) and that in a nutshell sums up the film. People tied together by violent crime. Henry is half Irish, half Italian. Growing up around the local gangsters, learning the ropes, making connections, making money, getting respect. This introduction to young Henry is important. It hammers home the family function of the mob. Once in, nothing penetrates it. It's bred into you. You'd die for each other. You'd kill too. Goodfellas is about more than killing and stealing though. It's about loyalty, vanity, masculinity. You can almost smell the screen. There's a tense underbelly to every scene. Be it Tommy's unhinged temper or Henry's greed. Henry narrates throughout. He meets Karen (Lorraine Bracco). To begin with she seems his equal and that's what he likes. Quickly she learns that Henry is dangerous, but she likes that too... and marries him. Once you're in. You can't get out. Not even if you want to. The dialogue is rapid, you feel like you're in a pressure cooker. The camera too is always on the move, but boy does it move beautifully. Through rooms, kitchens, everyday life and energy oozes from the screen. Let's not pretend it's not absolutely brutal though. Yes it's packed with style, yes it's the characters that make it tick, but when the guns are drawn, or the knives, clubs, anything to hand, it's bloody! Sooner or later, someone's going to make a mistake. Tommy is that someone and the mistake is the body in the trunk in the pre-titles scene. It's one of many mines planted in the story, buried ironically. Left, ticking. The mob lifestyle goes on, but these things are there. Remembered by those biding their time. Honestly it's not an easy watch. There's no good guys, the title is a total lie. Every single person on screen is a scumbag. After setting the scene for an hour, the scumbags start the infighting and the cracks begin to show. The genius of this though is how it keeps you hooked. The pacing is perfection. Henry encounters bumps, does time, his marriage on the rocks, but on it goes. He's digging deeper though and soon digging into coke against Paulie's (Paul Sorvino) wishes. Massive heists attract the FBI. Too many fingers in too many pies. Even as the trio of Henry, Jimmy and Tommy galvanise and try to cover their tracks, it's too late as things unravel to classic American needle drops. They thought they were safe. High enough up the food chain, but they've not spotted their vulnerability. It's a brilliant film from start to end, but you know what? That meme... it was from Casino!
Dirty Harry (1971)
I bet gun obsessed Americans love this!
I've never seen Dirty Harry before. It's one of those well known film titles that I've just never got around to. I know that Harry is Clint Eastwood. But why is he dirty? Well Harry Callahan is a cop. A detective to be precise. In 60s San Fransisco. He's after a killer and this wastes no time setting the tone. The body count kicks off in the opening scene. The premise, the mayor coughs up $100,000 or the killing continues. Enter Harry, he doesn't play by the rules, hence the dirty moniker. He also has an ironic issue with authority figures... like the mayor, his bosses, or anyone really. He's the lovable rogue and Eastwood is perfect, especially young Eastwood. He's essentially a cowboy let loose on the city streets. This is a city film. Concrete and cars, a time capsule immortalising an analog America. There's never been a time I recall when America wasn't considered a dangerous country and cinema like this does little to quell that. It's stylish though. That's the point, it's a love letter to Harry type, the all American no nonsense Anti-hero. Straight talking. Straight shooting. Doing what's right by his own conscience and nothing more. He fixes problems, dirty ones. The score is both of its time and brilliant, adding to the slick cool and the energy of the killer (Andrew Robinson) on the loose. As the body count rises, so do the stakes. Harry finds himself being instructed to "do what you're told". Good luck with that. The first half of the film although all set up is still packed with a nice mix of action and character building. We meet Chico (Reni Santoni), Harry's new reluctantly welcomed partner and learn that the Scorpio killer is more than just a madman with a sniper rifle. Harry though, is more than just a cop. In fact he's not a particular good cop. It's not the most complex plot (to start at least), but it's bloody good fun to watch unfold and there's an intriguing moral, social and constitutional element to it. Ah America and its constitution. The third act provides an interesting twist as it proves there's more to this than first meets the eye. It's a great film. I bet gun toting republicans love it!!
Spoorloos (1988)
A must see, whether you liked the remake or not.
I watched the Bridges/Sutherland remake years ago and really enjoyed it, but apparently the original is much better! We're in mid-80s France. A young Dutch couple, Saskia (Johanna ter Steele) and Rex (Gene Bervoets) are bickering on a road trip, in a car that runs out of gas off the beaten track. Rex walks off to fetch gas, when he returns, Saskia is gone!... He finds her, but this is foreshadowing what's to come. This intro would be scary enough, but perhaps too predictable too tropey, but when Saskia goes missing in broad daylight at a busy service stop up the road, it's pretty chilling. There's no panic at first. Rex doesn't know what we know. We've seen Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu) lurking with his chloroform. Rex is soon running around the services, shouting her name. Searching high and low... but she's gone. Seemingly into fresh air. Just as Raymond has meticulously planned. He's a family man, with an answer for every one of his unusual behaviours. Three years on, Rex is still wondering what happened. It's not helped by the mysterious postcards he receives, stringing him along, stopping him from moving on. Stopping from committing to Lieneke (Gwen Eckhaus). It's the perfect three act structure. Saskia's vanishing. Rex's tormenting and then, Raymond's party game revelations. Squaring up to Rex in the street, he offers a "unique chance" to find out what happened and Rex is too invested to say no. The structure may sound simple, but the way this slowly tells us more and more about Raymond is deftly done and as we learn, slowly Rex does too. Raymond is cold, calculating, but oddly personable. Nothing like the Bridges portrayal. You don't side with him, or even understand him, but he's a much more accessible character than his actions would have you believe. The remake felt grittier, grimier, but this feels better balanced. Its daily mundanity makes it all the more harrowing. It's so normal, so believable and absolutely terrifying.
Dune: Part Two (2024)
Part One was better.
I've forgotten what happened in Dune: Part One. I'm not alone right? In fact I had to read my previous review to remind me, but with my no spoiler policy, I'm still a bit in the dark. I liked it though it seems and left looking forward to Part Two and so here we are. We start in the ashes of war, but the fight is not over. Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) is lying in the sand dunes once more, fighting with those trying to destroy him, his family, both those fighting alongside and those yet to be born. I'd forgotten just how dense this is and it's really quite difficult to pick up. Watch Part 1 and 2 back to back if you can, there's no refreshers. The bad guys are The Harkonnen. Pasty bald fellas lead by Rabban (Dave Bautista). They now control the Spice fields. The stuff that sustains life on these alien planets and allows travel between them, although this all centres on one planet, Arrakis. Paul and Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) are in exile of sorts there, helped by Stilgar (Javier Bardem), they're on his turf, but the locals aren't happy about it, mainly because they hold him responsible for the death of one of their own, a detail I've clearly forgotten since the last film. There's a lot of chanting, contemplation, spirituality. It's packed with symbology and ritual. This will help the pair, while many don't like their presence, enough see them as a sign of hope. I'd forgotten too who Jessica is, the important detail is she's pregnant with Paul's baby sister. Making her his Mother, but honestly it takes me a while to clock this. She becomes embroiled in their new home's social and religious fabric, whilst Paul builds his myth as Stilgar's messiah. Chani (Zendaya) is having none of the mythical stuff, but she's happy to help him learn how to survive the desert. The visual juxtaposotion of the ancient desert and the sci-fi tech is arresting stuff. Add a layer of bwoarrrr sound design and it hits the blockbuster epic quota easily. It's not that a scene with gunfire and explosions is essential here, but it finally triggers a point, nearly an hour in where I finally feel onboard with this. Paul is shown to be what he is, a fighter, a politician, a leader. No longer living in the shadows of his past. He can move forward and so too can this film. For all the tender spiritual side, let's not forget what's central to all this. Spice. The commodity. The control of it. As Paul progresses with his new friends. Rabban is displeasing his boss the Baron (Stellan Skarsgård) by letting things slip. It could do with a little more of this darkness as it builds. It's very slow paced. I've no issue with being patient but this does test it. As good as Chalamet is, this film puts more than it needs to on his shoulders. The first film seemed to balance all the political plot well with the action, tension and CGI eye candy. This though gets bogged down like Star Wars did with fluffy dialogue delivered by characters with hard to remember names. Honestly, I'm just not invested enough to care, even when the Emperor (Christopher Walken) and his impressive family of Charlotte Rampling and Florence Pugh turn up, like inconsequential gods in a far removed subplot. The introduction of a new bad boy, Feyd-Raytheon (Austin Butler), who looks like a bald Erling Haaland, is one of the most stylishly cinematic things I've seen in a long time. It's pure style over substance and unoriginal in its gladiatorial aping, but it's still absolutely stunning. In short (a bit late for that), you've got the bad dudes inter-fighting, power grabbing, eventually getting themselves sorted in order to go up against the godlike purity of Paul and his mates, once they sort out their own religious clap-trap. Evil against the righteous. This sounds reductive, but that really is it. Feyd-Rautha adds a whole new story at the half way mark. It's almost like they got bored with Part Two and decided to start Part Three instead. It is all connected, but at three bloody hours, it's like a gruelling endurance test. Can anything save it? How about Josh Brolin with a sitar? He's Gurney Halleck, essentially the yahoo American composite. He carries it well, in fact all the acting is solid and you could take any single frame of your choosing and stick it on your wall as art. But there's no denying it's convoluted. You'll know this from Part One and if you've watched that, you'll watch this and you'll likely enjoy it. When it finally gets to its final act, it really is gripping. Do we need a Part Three? No not really, not in the same way we needed this. But it's coming all the same. I might need to watch Parts 1 and 2 again before watching it though, that's going to be a long 6 hours!
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024)
It certainly looks amazing.
I can't recall much about Mad Max: Fury Road. Lots of sand, lots of action, lots of fun. I liked it. This apparently is the origin of the Furiosa character, hence the title. I'll be honest, I don't think you really need to have much if any prior knowledge of this world. We're quickly lead into the post-apocalyptic nightmare. No power grid, no money, societal collapse, chaos. A young Furiosa (Alyla Browne) is captured by bandits and torn from utopia in the desert. Cue a fairly lengthy if not enjoyable chase which sets the tone for Furiosa's life. Utopia may be "a place of abundance", but it's also got badass role models... like her mother. This is a slightly predictable and protracted revenge plot. The bandits lead by a self righteous bloke in a cloak called Dementus (Chris Hemsworth) pillage the desert, killing as they scavenge for food, water and ammunition. All while Furiosa watches, learns, waits. It looks spectacular, but boy does it take a while to find its foothold. Dementus is just bloody annoying, even as he's slightly redeemed momentarily by even nastier bastards on the scene like Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme). It's essentially a pyramid of evil, a cast of increasingly insane men (always men) with ridiculous names, hell-bent on power. As Furiosa (Anya Taylor-Joy) grows up, now hiding who and what she is, she grows stronger, smarter. Still watching, learning in the midst of an insanely patriarchal society obsessed with testosterone fuelled mechanics. It's an petrolheads dream! This to be fair is true to the 80s film's origins. Open desert, big rigs and motorbikes fighting it out for basic life essentials. This is where we meet Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke), the driver of Immortan Joe's latest war rig, an ornate tanker at the centre of a stunning high-speed battle scene, with people flying all over the screen, explosions, crazy camera sweeps and an endless supply of skinhead dudes covered in white paint, it's like a particularly hellish stage of the Dakar rally. It's here, half way through, that it gets interesting. I can't help but feel it's because here Furiosa takes centre stage. All the baddies have been laboriously introduced. We've the lay of the land, now it's time for Furiosa to rewrite the rules. Dialog is thin and Taylor-Joy feels a little underused, but this is an action film after all and it's got that by the greasy bucketload. Still the narrative is more about being patient, than trying to decode anything particularly nuanced. It's switch your brain off stuff, with holes in it big enough to drive a turbo charged armoured monster truck through. More fool you though if you're watching for the plot. It looks incredible, the wide open world of black and orange, sear your eyeballs there's no denying it, but let's just say the chase is better than the catch.
Caligula: The Ultimate Cut (2023)
Better and not as bad as the chatter suggests.
They've recut Caligula. They could've made it shorter, but it's longer, clocking 3 hours. The point is, is it better? Surely it is, I mean everyone hated the original. There's still sex, blood and violence, but some of the OTT porn is gone and in fact I'm lead to believe that nothing from the original remains, this is all edited from scratch, from the original rushes, with additional CGI trickery to cover some of the many issues from the '79 version. Rome A. D. 37, a young Caligula (Malcolm McDowell) is a paranoid type. Protected by privilege and decadence, he's too much time on his hands. Time to fret about those who may try to harm him and time to sleep with his sister Drusilla (Teresa Ann Savoy). It's still not a particularly easy film to watch. Caligula is mocked by his aging and dying grandfather, the emperor Tiberius (Peter O'Toole) while he swims with dozens of naked people. He's a terrible role model, showing the impressionable youngster a world of vice. Considering this was panned due to its gratuitous sex scenes, this recut really doesn't fix that. It's clear that although most of the cast and crew disowned it, they knew what they were shooting. Caligula is hungry for power, hungry to see the back of the old guard like Nerva (John Gielgud). He see's what's coming, the sadistic nature of the powers that be and future of Rome. Not that we see an awful lot of Rome. This all largely takes place in carefully crafted mostly internal darkly lit sets. Which is probably just as well with the cast naked half the time. Wresting the emperors ring from his thought to be dead hand, Caligula finally tastes what he's been chasing, but is too cowardly to see the job through. That is left to the muscle, Macro (Guido Mannari). Setting forth a new era, hailed by the ominous early synth score. There's some arrestingly iconic shots for sure and McDowell conveys an entire world in that expressive face, but bloody hell this is still a slog. If it weren't for McDowell carrying this it would be excruciating. The best thing I can say about this is, watching McDowell's performance convey the power that begins to corse through Caligula. From his childlike cowardice to full blown corrupt madman, it's quite a transformation and he's quite mesmeric. For all its pomposity, there's some scenes that really ought to have been cut completely though. They serve little to the story but to shock. It shows no nuance at all, it's one very long decent into cinematic debauchery. Any film that reduces Helen Mirren (as Caesonia) into little more than yet another naked body, is pretty inexcusable. The only particularly likeable character is Longinus (John Steiner), he's the only one with anything close to a reasonable IQ. There's one shot, around the 2 and a half hour mark where he exchanges a quiet look with Chaerea (Paolo Bonacelli), as if to say, can you believe they're actually filming this!? So, is it an improvement? Well I can't recall much of its predecessor, it's been mercifully erased from memory, so yes. It's still indulgent though. Often dull. Occasionally shocking and seldom entertaining, but that doesn't make it a bad film. It doesn't make it a great film either, but it's better than mere porn it's excused of. I can't decide if I like it, it has too much of an air of foley, mimicking Caligula's. I don't hate it though and if you're so inclined it's worth a watch.
Kinds of Kindness (2024)
Dark and mysterious, better than expected.
Well this is... sprawling. Typically confusing and mysterious as it begins, but boy is it beautiful. Robert (Jesse Plemons) is meticulous, wealthy, anxious... about something. Something making him sad and reflective. His boss, Raymond (Willem Dafoe) is overbearing, controlling. Ridiculously so. Their's is a world of high-rise offices, expensive suits, clean modern living. Their relationship is uncomfortable. Raymond has an unusual task for Robert, one that he's very insistent on, putting Robert in an absurd situation. Absurd is a good word for this. And both Plemons and Dafoe are perfect for its delivery. Both masters of understated menace, this packs a real charge as we find that this is only the latest request in a series that has shaped Roberts life, a life that's about to take a dramatic turn. Dark and stark, it's captivating as Robert tries to unravel his maddening desperation, that leads him to Rita (Emma Stone). Honestly it's rather brilliant and I'd like to delve in further, but after barely an hour, it's over.
That's because this is the first part of a tryptic of stories. I won't lie, it feels jarring. Just as you're immersed into one world, you're ripped out of it and thrust into another. In the next more Cronenbergian universe Plemons is a cop. His recently missing wife (Stone) returns, but something isn't right. The themes of dark awkwardness continue as the dissonant piano stabs in the background. It's intriguing as Plemons' world once again unravels and it certainly has some arresting moments, but the story isn't as gripping, although it's certainly more gory... and dogs really should be in charge.
The third jump doesn't feel as disorientating, but make no mistake, it's no less bizarre. Stone and Plemons (got a nice ring to it) are looking for someone special. They are Emily and Andrew, part of cult like commune, obsessed with sex and water, headed by Omi (Dafoe). Emily is torn though between this life tearing around in a Dodge Charger on a mission and her old one, with her family. When things go wrong, as they inevitably do in all these stories, she's desperate to complete the mission and make things right... if indeed her perception of right, is right. There's very little that tangibly holds these three stories together. I'm sure I could rationalise it in some way through the mysterious RMF character (Yorgos Stefanskos), but this really is something you need to make your own mind up about. This isn't Lanthimos' best film by any stretch, but it's better than many reviews give it credit and well worth a watch if you like stylishly confusing films, beautifully shot and wonderfully acted.
Shoshana (2023)
Sadly lacking.
A whistle stop history lesson accompanying the opening credits, teaches us (if you didn't already know) the main touch points of the forming of Israel. Actually I think most people probably don't know do they. If you don't though, please dig deeper than this film. Still, it's dense. Sides forming, violence increasing. It's here that we meet Shoshana (Irina Starshenbaum). She's part of the more liberal open-minded Israel, but a more hard-line politics is growing. Men young and old, Jewish and Arab. All looking to further their cause. It's a three sided battle, to start at least and Shoshana finds herself in the middle. The English are still in charge of the region, which is how we meet young army officers like Geoffrey Morton (Harry Melling) and Shoshana's love interest policeman Thomas (Douglas Booth). It looks good, period detail, believably cast, but it's clunky in its set up. Granted it's a complicated story to nail down in a couple of hours and it certainly doesn't pull any punches, but this is not a good film. Nobody comes out particularly well, least of all the British. This is essentially the story of them buggering up the Balfour Declaration, whilst masking it in the mirrored complexity of Shoshana's love life. She's the soul female voice of reason and common sense again to start at least, in a world of warring men with misguided ideals. It's not a pleasant watch. You've got to ask yourself does this portray the narrative well and accurately. It's difficult to watch it as pure cinema. The real life events hold too much weight. It's effective in bringing the past to life, but it's dramatic retelling was always going not feel lacking. That said the levels of complexity are undoubtably compelling. It's just a shame that this chooses to lean in directions that don't feel anywhere near rounded enough, it's undercooked and with a subject like this, that's pretty unforgivable.
Back to Black (2024)
I'd hoped for much more.
This is a thankless task I feel. Amy Winehouse is someone on who we project a lot. Everyone has an opinion, even those of us who think we don't. We might not be tabloid fans, but we still witnessed her sad story play out. Honestly I'm not sure we need to relive it do we, but let's see. It's got a decent cast. Lesley Manville as her grandma, Eddie Marsan as her dad, Mitch. Jack O'Connell is the boyfriend Blake and Amy, well that monumental task falls to Marisa Abela. Yes she sings. And yes, she sings well. A convincing enough copy. I'm not sure it should be that important, but it will be. So much of this hangs on the voice. I'm not sure what I'm struggling with, but I am struggling right away. I think it's it trying to get across her chaotic nature in such a controlled way. There's no grit. None. It's all surface. No danger and honestly she deserved better. The music is great, but you could just listen to a record, watch a video. We're quickly whisked through the fast rise. Clunkily so, the exposition doesn't really stop. People listing the accolades the first record received. People don't speak like that. I know we see a caricatured version of Amy, but this just lazily rolls that out. It doesn't get under the skin. I guess this solves any accuracy concerns, it sticks to the broad strokes. It feels like there was a better film here, a more interesting performance. Abela is still good though and although Blake is supposed to be the villain, at least O'Connell has a pulse. He also mimes along to the Shangri-La's rather well. Every now and then it shows a glimpse of promise, just enough for you to want to give it more time, but too much of it feels like Love Actually... without the laughs. In fact the saddest thing is this gets better as things get worse for Amy. The second half of the film is all downhill. Drugs, booze, paparazzi. There is the music of course. Whether it's Amy's or her influences, it's brilliant, but that's not enough and I'm really not sure what this is trying to achieve. If it's a pure retelling, it's lacking, anything else and it's merely an exploitive slow motion car crash.
Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger (2024)
A beautiful love letter...
I've seen a few Powell & Pressburger films, not as many as Martin Scorsese I suspect. Here in Made In England he rightly waxes lyrical about the legendary filmmakers and British cinema, with a dizzying display of archive, some apparently rather rare, although I'm no expert to distinguish. It starts as much Scorsese's story as P&P's (forgive the abbreviation). He talks of obsessively watching films like The Tales of Hoffman on black and white American TV. I'll admit I struggle with that film, but little Martin loved it. I guess what I'm looking for here, is letting Scorsese tell his origin story through these films and find the films that I've been missing. The controversial Peeping Tom (technically just Powell) and the operatic The Red Shoes both look like a must see, but I'm thankful I've seen many of the others featured. Like The 49th Parallel, made during the war, its propaganda but made in the most beautifully cinematic way. It's essentially a film buff talking about films for other film buffs. I doubt this would catch the attention of a particularly wide audience, but it should really. It's a compelling story. Neither Micheal Powell nor Emeric Pressburger had easy starts, but both passionate and eager about film, once together, each gave the other the strength to succeed. In an era of defined roles, their partnership appears to have been a baffling mystery to many, but essentially Emeric wrote, Micheal directed and they both produced, and thanks to the success of films like The 49th Parallel, they made what they wanted. Films like The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp. A brilliant post war film that annoyed Winston Churchill, "Such a wonderful leader, but he just wasn't a good film critic". Pressburger is right, Blimp is an absolute masterpiece and certainly one of my favourites. It's a delight to hear how Scorsese talks about it like an old friend. Watching clips of their films like this, it throws into light their repeated use of the same actors. They too become like old friends. Roger Livesey pops up a lot, sometimes as the lead, other times as supporting like in A Matter of Life and Death, another epic piece of cinema and Deborah Kerr, again from Blimp and later Black Narcissus. There's lots of fun parallels drawn between P&P and Scorsese's work, as he hammers home his fandom. There's no punches pulled though as P&P hit troubled waters with studios... and each other. It's a functional documentary, it doesn't need to be anything more. Its aim is to shine a light on the life and work of Powell & Pressburger and it does that wonderfully.
Blur: To the End (2024)
A brilliant in depth look at a brilliant band.
You'd think there's not too much to write about To The End. It's a documentary about Blur, with Blur. The band, Blur. If you're not a Blur fan, you're probably not watching this. It follows the band recording and releasing their 2023 album The Ballad of Darren, rehearsing and the celebratory gigs that culminate at Wembley. Shot over the course of a year it's intimate and honest. Well paced and in depth, with plenty of time with Damon, Alex, Graham and Dave. Filmed in part in a very big house in the remote coastal countryside, it has a bohemian air. This is latter-day Blur, gone are the young cheeky lads. There's a weight of expectation now. Especially now in that they're leading up to the biggest gigs of their career, all whilst being less active than ever before. As Dave says "The less we do, the bigger we get". They are genuinely interesting people to watch. There's a clear bond, but they are all very different and have had different lives outside the band. It's a lot of people sitting around, smoking in scruffy clothes that probably cost a fortune in barn-like rooms which certainly do cost a fortune. "I live alone in the countryside and this record feels very much like that" states Damon and Graham echos "A boulder had fallen out and there's 40 years worth of stuff in this boulder that's been dislodged". It's raw and emotional, particularly from Damon who's clearly the driving force. He famously doesn't switch off and this does seem to add some friction to the band dynamic. It works though doesn't it, the songs are wonderful. Speaking of wonderful, Graham is wonderfully dour, moaning about the environment of practice spaces and being "blinded by stupid lights". Alex is dramatic and Dave, well Dave is the sensible one as ever. He's the one you can understand, relate to. It's oddly shambolic, but there's tons of depth. They're not afraid to show the process and delve into the past. There's no Britpop focus, what's the point that's story has been told. There is plenty of the origin story told around the rehearsals and the warm up gigs. In Colchester we get 'Popscene' and Eastbourne is treated 'Parklife', it effortlessly makes me want to see them live again. This is much more than the music though. Blur are a band that despite their success have always been oddly undersold as genuine artists. This documentary shows them in their best light, warts and all. Still pushing creatively, emotionally, to the end.
Daley (2024)
A riveting documentary.
Daley Thompson was a superstar. A genuine icon. If like me, you up in 80s Britain, Thompson was the athletics hero. Yes there were football players that we'd pretend to be whilst playing, but if you were running, jumping, throwing, you wanted to be Daley. Thompson you see was a Decathlon champion. This is an all star account with contributions from Seb Coe, Linford Christie, Caitlyn Jenner, Sharron Davies, Colin Jackson, Tessa Sanderson, Steve Cram and many more. One thing the athletics community does brilliantly, is rally around to support and celebrate its own. It's a story with a sad start, a difficult childhood, bad things happening focusing a child on looking forward, being positive. We're not all like this of course, but this is a clear cornerstone of Thompson's life... drive. That drive opened doors, well that along with being grease lightning on the running track. The 70s were a different era for track and field. Little structure, zero finance. You're doing it on your own, for the love of it. Daley: Olympic Superstar is built around a mix of old archive and the present day, with Daley now there for his son also competing. It makes for a really well rounded picture of the man. Winning sprint races, his trainer, Bob says "Do you know what a Decathlon is?". If ever there's a faithful moment, this is it. He's 16, never even tried 7 of the 10 disciplines, gets entered for a last minute event and as he sits there now in a sweatshirt and a grey beard telling the story, with a smile on his face he says "Guess who wins". On his way, he's soon bending Bruce Jenner's ear at the 76' Olympic Games in Montreal. Then hitting his stride in Moscow in 1980. The archive footage is lovely and not just the televised stuff, there's lots of shots running round freezing looking streets and training in barren looking gyms, all with that focused stare of a man selfishly obsessed with being the very best. It's a cracking story of a bloke striving and being rewarded for the monumental effort. Gold Medals, sponsorships, those iconic Lucozade TV ads that got me addicted to the stuff and the computer game that I spent hours plugged into my Commodore64. He was everywhere! Sadly another thing that was everywhere in the 80s was the NF and rampant racism. Having Daley then as an icon holding Olympic, European and Commonwealth Titles simultaneously was an even bigger deal that he was black, even though he states it's his actions that define him rather than his colour. Some of those actions though are questionable. It's not all happy happy joy joy, with fame and success comes press intrusion... and competition is never far away. That competition comes in 84 at the LA Olympics. I'm not going to say anymore, but it's brilliant and wonderfully put together. He was an incredible athlete, but not without a prickly side and that courts controversy. Another layer that makes this all the more riveting to watch.
Copa 71 (2023)
A truly amazing story of truly amazing people!
The 1971 Women's World Cup in Mexico pulled on crowds of 100,000 passionate football fans. Who knew? Well I didn't and that's the point of this documentary, no one does. With an intro from Serena Williams and with many contributors playing in the tournament itself, it's a fascinating account and let's make this clear from the start, it's brilliant. Not just the way it's been put together, which is flawless, but much of the archive footage of the matches is stunning and the football is fabulous. It's a story of repression. Girls and women told that football is not for them and them replying yes it bloody is!! Well, sort of. It's not a tale of out and out rebellion, more a slow burn that started over 100 years ago with girls playing in secret and I guess takes us to present day with players in the WSL becoming household names. The focus here though is Copa 71, the first women's World Cup (still not acknowledged by FIFA) and the players who took that first step. Whether in England, Italy, France, Denmark, Argentina and of course Mexico, the message is the same, let us play. Theres plenty of history, but it goes back much further than the 70s. For instance did you know that in 1917, there were around 100 women's teams in England? How much further we could be if it weren't for doctors... and those are men of course, because women weren't welcome in that world either, saying that football was too dangerous for women and their ovaries. So the FA ban women's football in 1921. Proving that the FA have always been a bunch of idiots. This spreads around the world, but come the 60s enough is enough. It's never gone away, simply forced into the shadows, but here, to a Nancy Sinatra score, woman's football breaks through once more. But why haven't we heard of Copa 71? Well The FA aren't the only idiots of this story and it'll be no surprise to find that FIFA too have their heads stuck up their arses. Nothing's changed there. Not all men are idiots in this story, there are some money grabbing ones too. Off the back of the success of the men's World Cup, Mexico 70. The organisers have a taste for money and think, why not do this again... with women. However, because there's no infrastructure, the football governing bodies around the world refuse to recognise Copa 71 as a World Cup and ignore it. This entire film is bomb blowing apart all that patriarchal oppression, but what's brilliant about it, is the way it puts the players front and centre. They are revolutionaries, they lit the fuse. It's beautiful listening to them talk, reminisce, get choked up as they recall walking into massive stadiums that dwarf many modern structures and are cheered like the heroes they are, but there's ups and downs, winners and losers... it's football. You know what I'm going to say though don't you... there are no real losers here. There is controversy though, again it's football, but the tournament is a hit, both in a sporting nature and commercial clout. It's not just a story about football though. These women were thrust into a volatile situation where the stakes were insanely high, this deftly twists way around each thread of its fascinating narrative. And this is all before we get to the final with a record breaking 110,000 people packed into Mexico City's Azteca Stadium. This had me on the edge of my seat, smiling, utterly gripped. Sadly it's taken far too long for women's football to get the recognition it deserves, but we're finally learning and this film is a valuable lesson. Support women's football and push back against oppressive idiotic male dominated governing bodies who are too stubborn to share the ball. The people on screen here for 90 minutes are an inspiration to us all. A massive thank you to everyone involved in this documentary.
Civil War (2024)
Looks good.
Now I'll be honest, I'm an absolute sucker for this kind of thing. I've no idea how I'd get on in an apocalyptic civil war scenario, but it's cinematic gold. Visually at least, what you need though is a compelling story to give it purpose. In the near future, America finds itself in such a situation. Put aside whether you feel this is a probable forecast or if it's even dangerous to release a film like this in 2024. Those are legitimate questions, but I'm not going to dig deeper than this being pure fiction. That said, as the President (Nick Offerman) practices his speech with a red tie in the opening scene, he's intercut with recent archive of civil unrest in the states, so it's clear what director Alex Garland is going for. Texas and California have formed their own government and its supporters are intent on taking back The White House on July 4th. America loves its symbols after all. We see things unfold through Lee's eyes (Kirsten Dunst), she's a press photographer. Experienced and fearless, an inspiration to the much younger Jessie (Cailee Spaeny) who wants to be a war photographer like Lee... who shares the same name as famous WWII photographer Lee Miller, subject of the new Kate Winslet film 'LEE'. Got all that? Good. It does feel a bit clunky to start and it holds the audience's hand a little too much, but there are some undeniably hard hitting moments, plus using Suicide in the score is always going to get me on board. Lee is detached, hollowed out by the things she's seen. Jessie on the other hand finds herself in at the deep end as they travel, along with Joel (Wagner Moura) and Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) to DC, to try and see the President and what's left of the capital. It's clear that both sides of the war are pretty screwed up and we're with Lee in the middle simply observing the insanity. There's not much to like though to be honest. All the characters are flawed in some way and the narrative feels oddly impenetrable considering it's pretty thin. America in ruins does look good in that dystopian way and this hangs a lot on that. Shoot outs in brutalist buildings, tent cities abandoned stadiums, car littered highways, all with a Geoff Barrow score humming menacingly in the background. It doesn't really find any real on screen menace sadly until a sadistic Jesse Plemons in ridiculous red sunglasses turns up and starts shooting. In nothing more than two minutes he steals the entire show, but it's merely a momentary glimpse of substance. I said at the beginning the importance of a compelling story and it's just not here. What little there is, is caked in thick layers of surface action. It's not entirely pointless though and it's paced just about well enough to make it worth sticking around for its inevitable conclusion. The score is good too, but this could've been much better.
MaXXXine (2024)
Third place in the trilogy.
Writer and Director Ti West is back with another X film, continuing Mia Goth's bloodlust from Pearl and X. Here she's Maxine Minx, a 1980s porn actor looking to make the move into the mainstream. Double denim and ZZ Top, it's unashamedly stylish in West's heavy on the style way. 80s American is much like today's, with puritanical rhetoric from the evangelist right and unhinged danger from the disenfranchised proles. There's a satanic serial killer 'The Nightstalker' on the loose in LA... but it's okay as the victims aren't the clean cut type that the Reagan era wants to protect. It's more of a slow burn, there's plenty of sleaze in the set up, but this doesn't have the same immediacy of its predecessors. Don't worry though, horror and gore is coming and it'll be no surprise to learn that Maxine is not to be trifled with. The nods to her past though (and the fun flashback threads to Pearl and X) are to catch up with her. I've always found VHS home recordings a disturbing medium and this leans heavy on the jump cuts and suggested horror. It wanders a little too close to torture porn in places, but this is West's thing. The story isn't lacking, but he does rely a lot on visually arresting shock scenes. I know Goth isn't everyone's cup of tea either, but for my money she's every bit the powerhouse star. When Maxine's world is interrupted by John Labat (Kevin Bacon), her deadeye stare and calm delivery is an easy match for anything that Bacon's southern styled menace can bring. He's a P. I. delivering a message, a cog, a pawn. Maxine, well she's the apex predator. Not even Giancarlo Esposito in a wig can upstage her... although he's still pretty dangerous. Liz Bender (Elizabeth Debicki) sees Maxine's promise. She's the director on the horror film that Maxine hopes is going to be her big break. It's all very meta and self referential and might make the cinephile in you roll your eyes, but it's still a compelling plot of the hunter and the hunted. I didn't enjoy it as much as what's gone before and there doesn't feel any need for more with this ever-shifting character, I doubt this will be the end though. It's a screwed up story for a screwed up country. One with plenty of bloodlust and I doubt West will pass up the chance to twist this further.
Late Night with the Devil (2023)
An absolute joy!
1970s America is a time of fear and violence a voiceover here informs us (not much changed there then). "Television beams the horror into our living rooms". 'Mr Midnight' Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) is the host of a nightly show called Night Owls. Beloved by the tabloids and the nation, he's more than his clean cut image suggests. A member of The Grove, a secret boys club, he hopes it will give him the power to rise to the top of the TV ratings. Beset by personal tragedy, this darkly stylish thriller hits the gas from minute one, as we're shown "the live TV event that shocked the nation". As set ups go it's gripping, fun and very promising. Halloween night 1977 with a guest list that leans into the spooky, Jack valiantly attempts to boost his ratings. It's brilliantly crafted. Like a feature length episode of Inside No.9 with a theatrical budget. As far as praise goes, trust me you can't get much higher. Little hints of unrest are signposted, luring you in to what on the surface feels like a fun kitsch thriller. Jack's sidekick Gus (Rhys Auteri) is the cameraman's favourite cutaway and as things start to go off script, the look of panic in his eyes are felt in the viewers chilling bones. From the clairvoyant Christou (Fayssal Bazzi) to the paranormal skeptic Carmichael (Ian Bliss), the tension builds and builds, until we get to satanic cults... and Lilly (Ingrid Torelli), a young girl who nearly steals the show. With dramatic theatrics both on and off the stage, it's genuinely freaky. Sure you can be dismissive of the tropes, but when they're leant into so brilliantly, you've got to tip your hat. The gore is in the right places. The story is simple, but very effective. The acting is rock solid throughout. It's paced brilliantly and it doesn't over stay its welcome. A fun and engaging modern horror thriller, I'm going to have to see what else writer/director brothers Cameron and Colin Caines have come up with. This is an absolute joy!
The Beach (2000)
Will a rewatch help?
This might seem like an odd film to revisit, but it popped up and I thought why not. I read the book years ago and loved it, but do recall this being a disappointment. It can't be that bad can it? I'm hoping that not having read the book in nearly 30 years will have cleared my mind and I'll be more able to appreciate Danny Boyle's adaptation. Richard (a young Leonardo DiCaprio) is looking for adventure away from societal conformity in Thailand, where else, it's the 90s after all. Not that there's any danger of forgetting that with its intro of choppy edits and thumping electro score. There he meets Daffy (Robert Carlyle) who tells him of The Island (with a beach). We're capitalising that to indicate its importance. It's said to be an idyllic perfect utopia, unspoilt and damn hard to find. Just what every backpacker is looking for right. This fateful meeting sets Richard and his inner monologue in search of the secret destination. Along with Françoise (Virginie Ledoyen) and Étienne (Guillaume Canet) thanks to a map left behind by the criminally underused Daffy. Richard likes Françoise, but three's a crowd and this early tension telegraphs that although The Island may be perfect, what you bring to it isn't. It's really not a bad start. The story of course is solid, the acting inoffensive and The Island (filmed on location in Thailand) is indeed beautiful... once you've navigated safety past the local drug cartel. There's a deep inner darkness to this tale and portraying that weight is difficult. The Island's community is a collection of travellers from all corners, well Europe and America, and is lead by Sal (Tilda Swinton). The trio are welcomed in, but Richard has already bitten off more than he can chew. DiCaprio is pretty good, not great but his character has limited depth, which is sort of the point, so it's not a challenge. Swinton is good too, not yet the powerhouse she'd become, but all the indications are here. Everyone else is functional. Although shout out to Lars Arentz-Hansen as Bugs, Sals less than friendly boyfriend. He sees the threat that the newcomers bring. They've seen instability before in Daffy and it's happening again. What should be a relaxing new life is slowly turning into an increasingly tense nightmare as Richard's previous choices catch up with him and his strength of character is tested. It's a dark a damning comment on how selfish people can be. The set up is fun, but as Richard loses his mind, it does lose its way and decends into an unsatisfactory mess, with no redeeming character and a conclusion that feels both rushed and incomplete. In short it's frustrating. So yes, it is pretty bad. I might read the book again though.
Gojira -1.0 (2023)
Definitive!
Do we need another Godzilla movie? No of course not, but that's not stopped people before and I doubt it'll stop more in the future. So the question should probably be, is this a good Godzilla movie? Where I feel others have failed in the past is with too much extra fluff around what's essentially a monster movie or by contrast solely relying on special effects of a giant dinosaur-like monster and little else. In case you've lived under a rock. That's who Godzilla is. A dinosaur reminent nuclear bi-product of WWII bombing and that's where we are, at the tail end of the war in Japan with a kamikaze pilot who didn't fulfil his mission. There's little waiting around, with Godzilla attacking a small island off the coast in the opening scene, but this really is merely a tease. Koichi (Ryunosuke Kamiki) returns to Tokyo to find it levelled and his family gone. It looks cinematically bleak, think Saving Private Ryan levels of destruction. Everyone struggling to get by in a ruined city as time goes by. Koichi finds himself in embroiled in a new family unit with Noriko (Minami Hamabe) and a baby she's rescued from her dying mother, but he's haunted by the war, his cowardice, PTSD induced nightmares... and the monster. It sounds dark doesn't it, but it plays to an air of hope, of rebuilding, of second chances, but that early tease is soon to return, bigger and more brutal. The battle scenes with boats and Godzilla in the water are spectacular, with an amusing amount of Jaws homages. Godzilla looks fantastic. Gnarly but with an authentic Japanese aesthetic. It's heavy on explosions and is genuinely gripping, but just wait until it reaches land! Koichi finds all his nightmares coming back to life. It balances his story well with the action and both are handled really well, action and reflection, but it does feel overly long. Two hours is a little indulgent and it could easily lose half an hour. That said, I've forgotten any detail of every other Godzilla film I've ever watched, but this one has some meat on its bones. Yes it's fantastic, but that's the point. What it also has is some authentic jeopardy with palpable emotional connections and that's what makes it tick. Can Koichi beat the monster, can he fulfill his destiny? So, is it a good Godzilla movie? For me, yes it is, perhaps one of if not the best. Does that mean there's no need for any more? Again for me, yes... but that's unlikely isn't it.
From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)
Bonkers.
This was the first film I watched in the cinema with my now wife. We had no idea going in what it was about. Let's be honest, it's not a great date movie. Written and starring Quentin Tarantino, maybe that should've been a clue, I was expecting blood, just not in this context. Before the monumental twist at the half way point, this is a down, dusty and dirty road movie in the uncultured southern states. Texas to be precise. There are no nice characters, but there are antiheroes. One being Seth (George Clooney), who along with his psychotic brother Richie (Tarrantino) is on the run, robbing, killing...and kidnapping. Which is where we meet Jacob (Harvey Keitel) and his kids Kate (Juliette Lewis) and Scott. He's a pastor who's lost faith, which is bad timing considering Seth wants his motor-home as a means of escaping to Mexico and specifically their rendezvous at The Titty Twister. A roadside bar that wouldn't get planning permission in anywhere other than this film. It's full of drunken scumbags ogling naked dancers who turn out to be... vampires! From Dusk Til Dawn is a batshit romp, a comedic b-movie horror that oddly turns out to be more than a sum of its parts. There's nothing particularly clever about it and most of the characters are ridiculous, but it's undeniably fun. Honestly though, as we arrive at the debauched establishment for the second half finale, I'm surprised we didn't leave the cinema. Any promise of cinematic nuance goes right out the window. Even Salma Hayek is reduced to little more than a sex object, which considering how great she is it's absolutely criminal. On the positive side though we're introduced to Frost (Fred Williamson) and Sex Machine (Tom Savini). The names should indicate the tone here, but they're more bad boys like Seth and soon to be on their side as Seth picks a fight and the whole bar including Razor (Danny Trejo) turn into the undead. Cue nearly an hour of OTT comic splatter. Heavy on the splatter, heavier on the comedy and that's why this gets away with being so daft. It doesn't take itself seriously and neither should any viewer. Forget about the plot holes, the cheesy dialogue. Embrace the rock n roll soundtrack and the badass insanity.