(Liev Schreiber, 2005)
This is the story of a strangely obssessive American being helped by Ukrainians to find the village his grandfather came from. Even though the plot is essentially quite simple, I had a really hard time following it. One contributing factor was that throughout the opening scenes, I found it impossible to concentrate on anything other than the fact that Elijah Wood’s face appears to be made entirely from some type of pale, smooth plastic. A compounding factor was that the relevance of the plot comes into play only during the film’s serious moments, and since these are both sickeningly over-sentimental and downright tedious, my attention found itself wandering. Thankfully, the serious moments comprise only about 80-90% of the film. The rest is pure comedy. And it’s hilarious. Granted, the source of mirth boils down to the presence of two simple items: (1) a Ukrainian who speaks English in a comedic way; and (2) an amusing dog. But still, funny English and funny dogs are comedy gold, so this is no reason to complain. It’s just unfortunate that the serious bits don’t cohere with the comedy (I don’t know whether the original book does a better job). It’s like someone decided to remake Road Trip and Schindler’s List as one film. Or like one of those inappropriately weighty scenes in a US sitcom, where we’re all supposed to learn a valuable moral lesson (but what we’re really doing is wondering why the jokes suddenly dried up). This misfiring mixture of comedy and seriousness also makes it difficult to interpret certain characters. A woman who appears towards the end of the film lives in an isolated house stacked from floor to ceiling with boxes containing the remains of a village exterminated by the Nazis during the war. The pompous, holier-than-thou atmosphere of the ensuing scenes suggests that we are to perceive her as a very wise and knowing old soul, with a deep connection to the truly valuable aspects of life. But had she appeared as a character in any other film with such a high incidence of comedy, someone would have turned up and said “Come on, love, this really isn’t healthy. Let’s throw away some of this shit and get you out and about. You really ought to de-clutter. Have you read this book?”
Everything is Illuminated @ IMDb (UK)
27 October 2006
24 October 2006
Saw II
(Darren Lynn Bousman, 2005)
The basic story idea underlying this film isn’t bad. The problem is the way in which the idea is executed. For a start, the direction is awful. Two things stand out in particular. One is the use of intentionally over-shaky hand-held camera shots in an obvious attempt to pull the viewer ‘into the action’. This serves only to draw attention to the camerawork itself, and therefore has the complete opposite of the desired effect, detracting from the perceived ‘reality’ of the images on screen. The other is the overuse of rapid-fire jump cuts, punctuated by electrical-sounding snaps and pops, in an obvious attempt to inject a sense of frenetic panic into scenes of horror. Again, the effect of this is to draw attention towards the film’s style and away from its content. And horror is clearly a matter of content, not style. Either a scene is horrific (because it contains something horrific happening to someone), or it isn’t. No amount of pop-video-style film- and sound-editing is going make the difference.
The film’s biggest problem, however, is the incredible number of ridiculously implausible twists and turns required in order to grind out the storyline from beginning to end.* As I said, the basic idea of the film is not bad, so it’s a shame that by the time the final twist eventually arrives, the viewer’s patience has long since been eroded.
Saw II @ IMDb (UK)
* (I’m adding this as a footnote since it assumes knowledge of the film and contains major spoilers. Consider yourself warned.)
On the most charitable interpretation I feel capable of mustering, the implausibility of the plot can be reduced to the following two things:
(1) When the police arrive at Jigsaw’s lair and are presented with the ‘game’ that they have two hours to resolve, they make no attempt to conduct a systematic search of the premises, despite the fact that they have very little information to go on and appear to be occupying a building that is packed to the rafters with potentially clue-laden drawings, plans, designs, tools, machinery, drawers, shelves, containers, etc. Other than standing around idly, the only steps taken to discover information consist in interacting with Jigsaw himself and calling out a tardy tech team to trace the CCTV feed. Had a more thorough search been conducted, one obvious focus of attention would have been the safe that turns out to be crucial to Jigsaw’s entire scheme. “But who’s to say they’d have located the safe?” As the end of the film makes clear, it’s in a prominent position, unhidden from view. “But who’s to say they’d have considered opening the safe?” Safes are pieces of equipment typically used by people to lock away important or precious items—if any part of Jigsaw’s lair is worth searching, surely this is it. “But who’s to say they’d have been able to open the safe?” Well, even allowing that safe-cracking personnel / equipment could not have been dispatched within the two hour time-frame (and let’s face it, the tech team take their sweet fucking time), surely this is a generous window of opportunity to be exploited by a team of physically strong men situated in a building that appears to be packed to the rafters with all manner of industrial-strength engineering equipment.
(2) Jigsaw’s plan involves waiting until Eric (Donnie Wahlberg) gets desperate enough to fall back on his evil cop tactics: extracting information through violence. When this happens, Jigsaw intends to take a bit of a beating, and then feign a concession of defeat, at which point he will offer to take Eric to the location where his son is held. Since it is crucial to the plan that no other cops accompany them to this location, Jigsaw must convince Eric that they are to go alone. Here’s roughly how it transpires:
- Tell me where my son is or I’ll shoot you.
- Ok, you win, I’ll take you to him. Nobody else, though, just me and you.
- Seems reasonable. Let’s go!
What more obvious sign of a set-up could there be than the fact that a man who, at one moment, claims to be utterly surrendering to your authority, suddenly starts imposing fresh conditions only a few seconds later? Here’s how the scene should have played out:
- Tell me where my son is or I’ll shoot you.
- Ok, you win, I’ll take you to him. Nobody else, though, just me and you.
- Fuck that, I’m bringing a massive amount of heavily armed backup (for example, a handful of those SWAT guys that are currently standing around idly in the background, blatantly failing to search the place for clues).
- No, no, it’s got to be just the two of us.
- Look, mate, it’s obvious that this is just another ruse of yours. Either you take me and my massive amount of heavily armed backup right now, or I’ll shoot you.
- Damn, my cunning plan is foiled either way!
The basic story idea underlying this film isn’t bad. The problem is the way in which the idea is executed. For a start, the direction is awful. Two things stand out in particular. One is the use of intentionally over-shaky hand-held camera shots in an obvious attempt to pull the viewer ‘into the action’. This serves only to draw attention to the camerawork itself, and therefore has the complete opposite of the desired effect, detracting from the perceived ‘reality’ of the images on screen. The other is the overuse of rapid-fire jump cuts, punctuated by electrical-sounding snaps and pops, in an obvious attempt to inject a sense of frenetic panic into scenes of horror. Again, the effect of this is to draw attention towards the film’s style and away from its content. And horror is clearly a matter of content, not style. Either a scene is horrific (because it contains something horrific happening to someone), or it isn’t. No amount of pop-video-style film- and sound-editing is going make the difference.
The film’s biggest problem, however, is the incredible number of ridiculously implausible twists and turns required in order to grind out the storyline from beginning to end.* As I said, the basic idea of the film is not bad, so it’s a shame that by the time the final twist eventually arrives, the viewer’s patience has long since been eroded.
Saw II @ IMDb (UK)
* (I’m adding this as a footnote since it assumes knowledge of the film and contains major spoilers. Consider yourself warned.)
On the most charitable interpretation I feel capable of mustering, the implausibility of the plot can be reduced to the following two things:
(1) When the police arrive at Jigsaw’s lair and are presented with the ‘game’ that they have two hours to resolve, they make no attempt to conduct a systematic search of the premises, despite the fact that they have very little information to go on and appear to be occupying a building that is packed to the rafters with potentially clue-laden drawings, plans, designs, tools, machinery, drawers, shelves, containers, etc. Other than standing around idly, the only steps taken to discover information consist in interacting with Jigsaw himself and calling out a tardy tech team to trace the CCTV feed. Had a more thorough search been conducted, one obvious focus of attention would have been the safe that turns out to be crucial to Jigsaw’s entire scheme. “But who’s to say they’d have located the safe?” As the end of the film makes clear, it’s in a prominent position, unhidden from view. “But who’s to say they’d have considered opening the safe?” Safes are pieces of equipment typically used by people to lock away important or precious items—if any part of Jigsaw’s lair is worth searching, surely this is it. “But who’s to say they’d have been able to open the safe?” Well, even allowing that safe-cracking personnel / equipment could not have been dispatched within the two hour time-frame (and let’s face it, the tech team take their sweet fucking time), surely this is a generous window of opportunity to be exploited by a team of physically strong men situated in a building that appears to be packed to the rafters with all manner of industrial-strength engineering equipment.
(2) Jigsaw’s plan involves waiting until Eric (Donnie Wahlberg) gets desperate enough to fall back on his evil cop tactics: extracting information through violence. When this happens, Jigsaw intends to take a bit of a beating, and then feign a concession of defeat, at which point he will offer to take Eric to the location where his son is held. Since it is crucial to the plan that no other cops accompany them to this location, Jigsaw must convince Eric that they are to go alone. Here’s roughly how it transpires:
- Tell me where my son is or I’ll shoot you.
- Ok, you win, I’ll take you to him. Nobody else, though, just me and you.
- Seems reasonable. Let’s go!
What more obvious sign of a set-up could there be than the fact that a man who, at one moment, claims to be utterly surrendering to your authority, suddenly starts imposing fresh conditions only a few seconds later? Here’s how the scene should have played out:
- Tell me where my son is or I’ll shoot you.
- Ok, you win, I’ll take you to him. Nobody else, though, just me and you.
- Fuck that, I’m bringing a massive amount of heavily armed backup (for example, a handful of those SWAT guys that are currently standing around idly in the background, blatantly failing to search the place for clues).
- No, no, it’s got to be just the two of us.
- Look, mate, it’s obvious that this is just another ruse of yours. Either you take me and my massive amount of heavily armed backup right now, or I’ll shoot you.
- Damn, my cunning plan is foiled either way!
20 October 2006
Zero Day
(Ben Coccio, 2003)
A Columbine-inspired film charting the activities of two teenagers over a period of several months as they plan an attack on their school that will culminate in joint suicide. Stylistically, Zero Day is identical to The Blair Witch Project insofar as the viewer is expected to interpret the film as though it’s an edited package, assembled after the fact by unknown agents from a larger stock of footage shot by the now-deceased characters. But the main advantage Zero Day has over Blair Witch is that there are no points at which the viewer is forced to ask “Why the hell are you still filming this?”. Since the intention to leave behind an explicit record of their activities is central to the declared agenda of the self-named “Army of Two”, the fact that they continue to film themselves is never a problem. (The issue is even played on by the script, which has several peripheral characters querying the fact that they’re being filmed—this is a trick that Blair Witch couldn’t have got away with, since that film relied on the viewer either not noticing, or willingly ignoring, the implausibility of sustaining the filming). Zero Day also goes one further than Blair Witch by switching its source of ‘footage’ near the end. Since the killers do not take their camera with them when they assault the school, the film shifts to CCTV footage (with sound cleverly provided by having one of the characters phone 911 and leave the line open). The quality of the acting in Zero Day is also much higher than that in Blair Witch, manifesting a dynamism and intimacy that is no doubt helped by the fact that the parents of the two main characters are played by the parents of the actors themselves. By the way, I really don’t mean to run Blair Witch into the ground, since it’s a film I like and which I thought worked well in its own right, but since its stylistic aims are so similar to those of Zero Day—and occur relatively infrequently elsewhere—I can’t help but draw comparisons such as these, especially since Zero Day deploys such elegant solutions to problems that Blair Witch was unable to avoid. There are also obvious comparisons (and contrasts) to be made between Zero Day and Elephant, which came out shortly afterwards in the same year. Whereas Elephant offers very little background on the killers, concentrating instead on delivering meditative glimpses into the lives of those affected by their actions, Zero Day displays the other side of the coin, focusing in on the lives of the killers themselves and revealing hardly anything about their school or victims. Notably, though, neither film goes out of its way to offer an explanatory analysis of the killers’ actions. And this is a large part of the reason why both films work, since it respects the fact that there are no easy answers.
Zero Day @ IMDb (UK)
A Columbine-inspired film charting the activities of two teenagers over a period of several months as they plan an attack on their school that will culminate in joint suicide. Stylistically, Zero Day is identical to The Blair Witch Project insofar as the viewer is expected to interpret the film as though it’s an edited package, assembled after the fact by unknown agents from a larger stock of footage shot by the now-deceased characters. But the main advantage Zero Day has over Blair Witch is that there are no points at which the viewer is forced to ask “Why the hell are you still filming this?”. Since the intention to leave behind an explicit record of their activities is central to the declared agenda of the self-named “Army of Two”, the fact that they continue to film themselves is never a problem. (The issue is even played on by the script, which has several peripheral characters querying the fact that they’re being filmed—this is a trick that Blair Witch couldn’t have got away with, since that film relied on the viewer either not noticing, or willingly ignoring, the implausibility of sustaining the filming). Zero Day also goes one further than Blair Witch by switching its source of ‘footage’ near the end. Since the killers do not take their camera with them when they assault the school, the film shifts to CCTV footage (with sound cleverly provided by having one of the characters phone 911 and leave the line open). The quality of the acting in Zero Day is also much higher than that in Blair Witch, manifesting a dynamism and intimacy that is no doubt helped by the fact that the parents of the two main characters are played by the parents of the actors themselves. By the way, I really don’t mean to run Blair Witch into the ground, since it’s a film I like and which I thought worked well in its own right, but since its stylistic aims are so similar to those of Zero Day—and occur relatively infrequently elsewhere—I can’t help but draw comparisons such as these, especially since Zero Day deploys such elegant solutions to problems that Blair Witch was unable to avoid. There are also obvious comparisons (and contrasts) to be made between Zero Day and Elephant, which came out shortly afterwards in the same year. Whereas Elephant offers very little background on the killers, concentrating instead on delivering meditative glimpses into the lives of those affected by their actions, Zero Day displays the other side of the coin, focusing in on the lives of the killers themselves and revealing hardly anything about their school or victims. Notably, though, neither film goes out of its way to offer an explanatory analysis of the killers’ actions. And this is a large part of the reason why both films work, since it respects the fact that there are no easy answers.
Zero Day @ IMDb (UK)
19 October 2006
Save the Green Planet!
(Joon-Hwan Jang, 2003)
An artful South Korean blend of cop-drama, torture-horror and bizarre slapstick comedy (which, let’s face it, doesn’t sound like an easy combination to pull off). Although the story develops along more or less predictable lines (and is slightly overlong at a running time of almost 2 hours), this is more than compensated for by the charismatic lead performances, and some highly energetic and imaginative direction, which throws up a constant variety of unusual and unexpected images. I don’t know why Jang hasn’t directed anything since this feature-length debut, but if he does, I’ll be watching.
Save the Green Planet! @ IMDb (UK)
An artful South Korean blend of cop-drama, torture-horror and bizarre slapstick comedy (which, let’s face it, doesn’t sound like an easy combination to pull off). Although the story develops along more or less predictable lines (and is slightly overlong at a running time of almost 2 hours), this is more than compensated for by the charismatic lead performances, and some highly energetic and imaginative direction, which throws up a constant variety of unusual and unexpected images. I don’t know why Jang hasn’t directed anything since this feature-length debut, but if he does, I’ll be watching.
Save the Green Planet! @ IMDb (UK)
Romance & Cigarettes
(John Turturro, 2005)
Now filed under "Films I Found So Unbearably Bad I Had To Stop Watching" (alongside such torturous cinematic disasters as Crimetime, Dreamcatcher, The Producers (2005 remake), The Sweetest Thing, and Wild at Heart). I don’t think I’ve ever seen a film that’s so far up its own arse. Plus it’s a musical. Lord have mercy.
Romance & Cigarettes @ IMDb (UK)
Now filed under "Films I Found So Unbearably Bad I Had To Stop Watching" (alongside such torturous cinematic disasters as Crimetime, Dreamcatcher, The Producers (2005 remake), The Sweetest Thing, and Wild at Heart). I don’t think I’ve ever seen a film that’s so far up its own arse. Plus it’s a musical. Lord have mercy.
Romance & Cigarettes @ IMDb (UK)
Match Point
(Woody Allen, 2005)
This is one more lame effort in an increasingly long line of lame efforts from Allen (who hasn’t made a really good film since Sweet & Lowdown, with the possible—but, to be realistic, unlikely—exception of Hollywood Ending, which I haven’t seen, so can’t comment on). It’s tempting to compare Match Point to the staggeringly abysmal Closer, since both are infested by a predominantly affluent transatlantic population of humourless tossers relentlessly engaging in soulless extra-marital ruttings. This would be slightly unfair, however, since in the case of Match Point, the affluence and the rutting bear at least some vague relevance to the plot. The main problem is that the precise nature of the pivotal decision faced by the main character towards the end of the film is not at all clear. Presumably, the dilemma he faces is supposed to be: poverty with a woman he loves versus affluence with a woman he doesn’t. But whether he actually loves either of these two women is difficult to judge (given that all concerned are humourless tossers engaging in soulless ruttings), and the “poverty” putatively threatened by the first horn of the dilemma consists in having to fall back on a career as an ex-tennis-pro turned coach (hardly the fucking breadline, is it?).
Match Point @ IMDb (UK)
This is one more lame effort in an increasingly long line of lame efforts from Allen (who hasn’t made a really good film since Sweet & Lowdown, with the possible—but, to be realistic, unlikely—exception of Hollywood Ending, which I haven’t seen, so can’t comment on). It’s tempting to compare Match Point to the staggeringly abysmal Closer, since both are infested by a predominantly affluent transatlantic population of humourless tossers relentlessly engaging in soulless extra-marital ruttings. This would be slightly unfair, however, since in the case of Match Point, the affluence and the rutting bear at least some vague relevance to the plot. The main problem is that the precise nature of the pivotal decision faced by the main character towards the end of the film is not at all clear. Presumably, the dilemma he faces is supposed to be: poverty with a woman he loves versus affluence with a woman he doesn’t. But whether he actually loves either of these two women is difficult to judge (given that all concerned are humourless tossers engaging in soulless ruttings), and the “poverty” putatively threatened by the first horn of the dilemma consists in having to fall back on a career as an ex-tennis-pro turned coach (hardly the fucking breadline, is it?).
Match Point @ IMDb (UK)
10 October 2006
Bully
(Larry Clark, 2001)
If you were initially intrigued but ultimately disappointed by Mean Creek, then watch this. It’s essentially the same premise (a group of kids conspire to take revenge on a local bully) but cashed out with far greater intelligence and intensity. As with his debut, Kids, Clark uses a young cast and a natural documentary-like style to portray juvenile characters engaging in a range of unrelentingly shocking behaviours. As a technique for building tension towards the anticipated scene of revenge, this full-on hyper-real explicitness works very well. (If you've seen my earlier review of Wolf Creek, you'll know that I’m all in favour of good quality tension-building prior to scenes of horror.) The revenge scene itself is appropriately gruesome (I haven’t seen a more realistic and frightening depiction of someone being stabbed with a knife since the opening of Goodfellas) and its aftermath is saturated with a cruel black humour. My only criticism of the film would be that at certain points, Clark’s explicit style edges over into gratuitousness. I’m not at all surprised to see naked flesh during a sex scene, but when a character is simply walking down the street, or sitting on a chair, do I really need to see an entire screen-full of arse, or a close-on upskirt shot?
Bully @ IMDb (UK)
If you were initially intrigued but ultimately disappointed by Mean Creek, then watch this. It’s essentially the same premise (a group of kids conspire to take revenge on a local bully) but cashed out with far greater intelligence and intensity. As with his debut, Kids, Clark uses a young cast and a natural documentary-like style to portray juvenile characters engaging in a range of unrelentingly shocking behaviours. As a technique for building tension towards the anticipated scene of revenge, this full-on hyper-real explicitness works very well. (If you've seen my earlier review of Wolf Creek, you'll know that I’m all in favour of good quality tension-building prior to scenes of horror.) The revenge scene itself is appropriately gruesome (I haven’t seen a more realistic and frightening depiction of someone being stabbed with a knife since the opening of Goodfellas) and its aftermath is saturated with a cruel black humour. My only criticism of the film would be that at certain points, Clark’s explicit style edges over into gratuitousness. I’m not at all surprised to see naked flesh during a sex scene, but when a character is simply walking down the street, or sitting on a chair, do I really need to see an entire screen-full of arse, or a close-on upskirt shot?
Bully @ IMDb (UK)
03 October 2006
Clearing the Backlog:
29 Reviews Covering Every Film I've Seen But Haven't Reviewed Since I Started This Blog.*
*in alphabetical order, and with the exception of several films I watched but had seen before (I've decided not to review those).
Clerks II
(Kevin Smith, 2006)
Not great, but not bad either. There are just enough decent gags to keep the whole thing afloat, although it does start to sink towards the end under the weight of its own self-referential smugness. My main complaint is that instead of resurrecting Brian O’Halloran (Dante) and Jeff Anderson (Randal) to make this sequel, Smith should have utilised the far greater talents of Jeremy London and Jason Lee to make Mallrats II. All it would have taken was a fat chronic blunt.
A Cock and Bull Story
(Michael Winterbottom, 2005)
This nosedives after the first twenty minutes or so, when you realise it’s going to focus more on the making of the film-within-the-film than on the film-within-the-film itself. I found the bickering between Brydon and Coogan (playing themselves) reasonably amusing, but could have done without the pointless subplots involving Coogan’s marital and extra-marital relationships.
Corpse Bride
(Tim Burton & Mike Johnson, 2005)
I do not, have never, and will never see the point of musicals; so the fact that I managed to sit through this film surely must count in its favour. The main problem is that it’s simply not dark, gruesome, or disturbing enough. Don’t get me wrong: I wasn’t looking for a remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre with puppets; but this is the cinematic equivalent of a skull & crossbones t-shirt sold in Asda’s George section for mothers to buy as accessories for their 13-year-old wannabe-goth daughters.
Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘N’ Roll Generation Saved Hollywood
(Kenneth Bowser, 2003)
Based on a well-known book by Peter Biskind which I hadn’t previously read, and will now never read, since after watching both this film and the accompanying DVD-extra interview with Biskind, it’s patently an unprofessional hack job pursued solely in the interest of making a bit of cash. The lack of interviews with major players such as Scorsese and Coppola is telling.
Festival
(Annie Griffin, 2005)
Laced with irony insofar as it’s a film about amateur writers and performers that features amateurish writing and performances. It would have been better as a TV drama (like Griffin’s most well-known work, The Book Group), not least because if it had, I probably wouldn’t have felt inclined to watch it.
Fun with Dick and Jane
(Dean Parisot, 2005)
I have to admit, I quite enjoy a bit of mindless Carrey nonsense now and again. And this was no exception.
Ghost in the Shell
(Mamoru Oshii, 1995)
Stylish (albeit in an overly blatant guns-and-tits kind of way) but somehow deeply unsatisfying. Not that I’m a big fan of Anime anyway. I tried to watch Akira many years ago, when it first became cool to do so, but quickly got bored of it. I stuck this one out, but only in the hope of seeing some stunning action sequences - of which, it turns out, there are too few. It all ended very suddenly, giving rise to a vague conviction that I must have completely misunderstood what had been going on. Strange. But not in a good way.
Hidden Fortress
(Akira Kurosawa, 1958)
Drags a bit towards the end, but still worth watching, even if only to witness the expert shot-framing and camera movements generally associated with Kurosawa. Not meaning to sound pretentious, but when the camera pans, it’s almost as if the scenery bends to Kurosawa’s will. (Damn, that did sound pretentious.)
Howl’s Moving Castle
(Hayao Miyazaki, 2004)
Enjoyable enough, and full of nice little ideas and images, but the story itself is uninteresting, and the ending is ridiculous.
The Island
(Michael Bay, 2005)
Fairly average on the whole, but affords the kind of mild enjoyableness that arises whenever something turns out to be slightly better than the crap you thought it would be. Buscemi’s presence helps (as always), and McGregor isn’t bad in the lead role either.
The Jacket
(John Maybury, 2005)
A nicely effective fusion of several genre clichés (sane man locked in asylum / time-travel romance / whodunnit) helped along by very good performances from Brody and Knightley. If anyone can explain to me why this film required no fewer than 19 producers, I’d be interested to know.
Kagemusha
(Akira Kurosawa, 1980)
More directorial fried gold from Kurosawa, although I was surprised to find the final battle scene visually underwhelming. Some of the early camera moves are incredible, though. Just a slight pan one way or the other, and a whole new scenic image opens up. Makes me wish I knew more about cinematography, in order to describe it properly.
Lady Snowblood: Blizzard from the Netherworld
(Toshiya Fujita, 1973)
Overlong, and not enough swordplay for my liking, but features some entertaining bloodshed nonetheless. I hoped it would compare well with the Lone Wolf and Cub films, but it doesn’t.
Last Days
(Gus Van Sant, 2005)
Undoubtedly not a film to suit all tastes, but as far as I’m concerned Van Sant is a cinematic genius, especially when shooting in 4:3 aspect ratio, as here (I’m not a huge fan of Drugstore Cowboy, and that’s probably because it’s in 1.85:1 rather than 4:3). This isn’t as good as Elephant – one of my favourite films of all time – but it’s still a pleasure to watch.
The Longest Yard
(Peter Segal, 2005)
I have to admit, I quite enjoy a bit of mindless Sandler nonsense now and again. Unfortunately, this was an exception.
Maborosi
(Hirokazu Koreeda, 1995)
Excruciatingly tedious. No doubt there will be some hardcore fans of world arthouse cinema who think it’s a beautiful and / or poignant representation of something or other. And maybe it is. But it’s still excruciatingly tedious.
Nacho Libre
(Jared Hess, 2006)
The perfect vehicle for Jack Black’s physical-comedy talents (namely: jumping, arm-flapping, jumping whilst arm-flapping, bounding, jumping and bounding, bounding whilst arm-flapping, rolling, singing in a silly voice, and further combinations and permutations thereof). Genius. If you like that kind of thing. Which I do.
Night Watch
(Timur Bekmambetov, 2004)
This is far better than most recent American attempts to make superhero / vampire flicks. The pacing is a little off, resulting in one of the most anti-climactic sequences I've ever witnessed, but there are some nice details in the story (no doubt because it came from a novel), and some effective (Fincher-esque) use of CGI to bring those details to life. I particularly liked the way in which the alternative dimension of 'the gloom' was represented (this is how it should have looked in the Lord of the Rings films when Frodo wore the ring).
Ping Pong
(Fumihiko Sori, 2002)
A very funny and original film about two table-tennis-playing schoolfriends. As entertainment, it's got some good CGI-ping-pong action, and some great characters and dialogue. As a sports-based drama, it's wholly refreshing insofar as it doesn't all come down to the usual cliché of the hero's team securing a victory in the face of adversity in the final few frames.
The Princess Bride
(Rob Reiner, 1987)
Many people seem to regard this as a classic, probably because they first saw it as kids and have been fond of it ever since. I didn’t, and was therefore disappointed (although I could tell that I probably would have thought it was fantastic had I seen it as a kid). The first 30 minutes are resoundingly unfunny. After that, it improves. Overall, I liked it, but I was about 19 years too late to stand a chance of really loving it.
Princess Mononoke
(Hayao Miyazaki, 1997)
Imaginative ideas, nice animation, and a mature downbeat ending. From what is essentially a kids' cartoon, you can't ask much more than that.
Red Eye
(Wes Craven, 2005)
Since I was a fan in my teens, I’ll always have a soft spot for the Elm Street movies (the first of which is genuinely a good film), but Wes Craven really is a talentless old hack.
Severance
(Christopher Smith, 2006)
Generally disappointing UK comedy-horror. The script is painfully bad in places, especially for the first 30 minutes or so. After that it gathers some pace and style. It’s saved from being a total disaster by one or two genuinely funny scenes, and a couple of clever horror-genre references.
Stoned
(Stephen Woolley, 2005)
A fairly average dramatisation of the lead up to the death of Brian Jones. Not helped by the fact that I watched it in close proximity to Van Sant’s far superior Last Days.
The Squid and The Whale
(Noah Baumbach, 2005)
On paper, this looks dull: a story about the effects of divorce on a family. To my surprise, it turned out to be superb, with excellently crafted characters and relationships and great acting all round. The only thing that spoils it is the fact that it’s American, and therefore manifests the dogmatic conviction that therapy is required to bring about genuine self-understanding.
Survive Style 5+
(Gen Sekiguchi, 2004)
A unique, stylish, and surreal interweaving of 5 disparate story-strands into a fascinating whole. The only slightly off-putting aspect is the large amount of English scattered throughout. This will no doubt make it seem ‘cool’ from a Japanese point of view. But ironically, from a Western point of view, what makes the film ‘cool’ is its overridingly bizarre Japanese-ness. But anyway, it’s excellent. Go watch it immediately.
Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
(Adam McKay, 2006)
Much like Anchorman, but with NASCAR drivers instead of newsreaders. Either way, it doesn’t matter, since Ferrell is hilarious. Sacha Baron Cohen is less than 100% effective as a comedy Frenchman (he just doesn’t seem able to bounce off Farrell as well as some actors can), but this is a minor quibble, since a more-than-adequate amount of comedy support is provided by John C. Reilly and Gary Cole.
Tony Takitani
(Jun Ichikawa, 2004)
Based on a short story by Haruki Murakami, this is a slow, surreal, film that sits strangely halfway between kind-of-uplifting and kind-of-depressing. The intriguing characters and storyline make it worthwhile, and it's very nicely shot and edited.
Wedding Crashers
(David Dobkin, 2005)
The plot is pure clichéd romcom-by-numbers, but Wilson and Vaughn (plus Ferrell, in a small part) are funny enough to make it work.
*in alphabetical order, and with the exception of several films I watched but had seen before (I've decided not to review those).
Clerks II
(Kevin Smith, 2006)
Not great, but not bad either. There are just enough decent gags to keep the whole thing afloat, although it does start to sink towards the end under the weight of its own self-referential smugness. My main complaint is that instead of resurrecting Brian O’Halloran (Dante) and Jeff Anderson (Randal) to make this sequel, Smith should have utilised the far greater talents of Jeremy London and Jason Lee to make Mallrats II. All it would have taken was a fat chronic blunt.
A Cock and Bull Story
(Michael Winterbottom, 2005)
This nosedives after the first twenty minutes or so, when you realise it’s going to focus more on the making of the film-within-the-film than on the film-within-the-film itself. I found the bickering between Brydon and Coogan (playing themselves) reasonably amusing, but could have done without the pointless subplots involving Coogan’s marital and extra-marital relationships.
Corpse Bride
(Tim Burton & Mike Johnson, 2005)
I do not, have never, and will never see the point of musicals; so the fact that I managed to sit through this film surely must count in its favour. The main problem is that it’s simply not dark, gruesome, or disturbing enough. Don’t get me wrong: I wasn’t looking for a remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre with puppets; but this is the cinematic equivalent of a skull & crossbones t-shirt sold in Asda’s George section for mothers to buy as accessories for their 13-year-old wannabe-goth daughters.
Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘N’ Roll Generation Saved Hollywood
(Kenneth Bowser, 2003)
Based on a well-known book by Peter Biskind which I hadn’t previously read, and will now never read, since after watching both this film and the accompanying DVD-extra interview with Biskind, it’s patently an unprofessional hack job pursued solely in the interest of making a bit of cash. The lack of interviews with major players such as Scorsese and Coppola is telling.
Festival
(Annie Griffin, 2005)
Laced with irony insofar as it’s a film about amateur writers and performers that features amateurish writing and performances. It would have been better as a TV drama (like Griffin’s most well-known work, The Book Group), not least because if it had, I probably wouldn’t have felt inclined to watch it.
Fun with Dick and Jane
(Dean Parisot, 2005)
I have to admit, I quite enjoy a bit of mindless Carrey nonsense now and again. And this was no exception.
Ghost in the Shell
(Mamoru Oshii, 1995)
Stylish (albeit in an overly blatant guns-and-tits kind of way) but somehow deeply unsatisfying. Not that I’m a big fan of Anime anyway. I tried to watch Akira many years ago, when it first became cool to do so, but quickly got bored of it. I stuck this one out, but only in the hope of seeing some stunning action sequences - of which, it turns out, there are too few. It all ended very suddenly, giving rise to a vague conviction that I must have completely misunderstood what had been going on. Strange. But not in a good way.
Hidden Fortress
(Akira Kurosawa, 1958)
Drags a bit towards the end, but still worth watching, even if only to witness the expert shot-framing and camera movements generally associated with Kurosawa. Not meaning to sound pretentious, but when the camera pans, it’s almost as if the scenery bends to Kurosawa’s will. (Damn, that did sound pretentious.)
Howl’s Moving Castle
(Hayao Miyazaki, 2004)
Enjoyable enough, and full of nice little ideas and images, but the story itself is uninteresting, and the ending is ridiculous.
The Island
(Michael Bay, 2005)
Fairly average on the whole, but affords the kind of mild enjoyableness that arises whenever something turns out to be slightly better than the crap you thought it would be. Buscemi’s presence helps (as always), and McGregor isn’t bad in the lead role either.
The Jacket
(John Maybury, 2005)
A nicely effective fusion of several genre clichés (sane man locked in asylum / time-travel romance / whodunnit) helped along by very good performances from Brody and Knightley. If anyone can explain to me why this film required no fewer than 19 producers, I’d be interested to know.
Kagemusha
(Akira Kurosawa, 1980)
More directorial fried gold from Kurosawa, although I was surprised to find the final battle scene visually underwhelming. Some of the early camera moves are incredible, though. Just a slight pan one way or the other, and a whole new scenic image opens up. Makes me wish I knew more about cinematography, in order to describe it properly.
Lady Snowblood: Blizzard from the Netherworld
(Toshiya Fujita, 1973)
Overlong, and not enough swordplay for my liking, but features some entertaining bloodshed nonetheless. I hoped it would compare well with the Lone Wolf and Cub films, but it doesn’t.
Last Days
(Gus Van Sant, 2005)
Undoubtedly not a film to suit all tastes, but as far as I’m concerned Van Sant is a cinematic genius, especially when shooting in 4:3 aspect ratio, as here (I’m not a huge fan of Drugstore Cowboy, and that’s probably because it’s in 1.85:1 rather than 4:3). This isn’t as good as Elephant – one of my favourite films of all time – but it’s still a pleasure to watch.
The Longest Yard
(Peter Segal, 2005)
I have to admit, I quite enjoy a bit of mindless Sandler nonsense now and again. Unfortunately, this was an exception.
Maborosi
(Hirokazu Koreeda, 1995)
Excruciatingly tedious. No doubt there will be some hardcore fans of world arthouse cinema who think it’s a beautiful and / or poignant representation of something or other. And maybe it is. But it’s still excruciatingly tedious.
Nacho Libre
(Jared Hess, 2006)
The perfect vehicle for Jack Black’s physical-comedy talents (namely: jumping, arm-flapping, jumping whilst arm-flapping, bounding, jumping and bounding, bounding whilst arm-flapping, rolling, singing in a silly voice, and further combinations and permutations thereof). Genius. If you like that kind of thing. Which I do.
Night Watch
(Timur Bekmambetov, 2004)
This is far better than most recent American attempts to make superhero / vampire flicks. The pacing is a little off, resulting in one of the most anti-climactic sequences I've ever witnessed, but there are some nice details in the story (no doubt because it came from a novel), and some effective (Fincher-esque) use of CGI to bring those details to life. I particularly liked the way in which the alternative dimension of 'the gloom' was represented (this is how it should have looked in the Lord of the Rings films when Frodo wore the ring).
Ping Pong
(Fumihiko Sori, 2002)
A very funny and original film about two table-tennis-playing schoolfriends. As entertainment, it's got some good CGI-ping-pong action, and some great characters and dialogue. As a sports-based drama, it's wholly refreshing insofar as it doesn't all come down to the usual cliché of the hero's team securing a victory in the face of adversity in the final few frames.
The Princess Bride
(Rob Reiner, 1987)
Many people seem to regard this as a classic, probably because they first saw it as kids and have been fond of it ever since. I didn’t, and was therefore disappointed (although I could tell that I probably would have thought it was fantastic had I seen it as a kid). The first 30 minutes are resoundingly unfunny. After that, it improves. Overall, I liked it, but I was about 19 years too late to stand a chance of really loving it.
Princess Mononoke
(Hayao Miyazaki, 1997)
Imaginative ideas, nice animation, and a mature downbeat ending. From what is essentially a kids' cartoon, you can't ask much more than that.
Red Eye
(Wes Craven, 2005)
Since I was a fan in my teens, I’ll always have a soft spot for the Elm Street movies (the first of which is genuinely a good film), but Wes Craven really is a talentless old hack.
Severance
(Christopher Smith, 2006)
Generally disappointing UK comedy-horror. The script is painfully bad in places, especially for the first 30 minutes or so. After that it gathers some pace and style. It’s saved from being a total disaster by one or two genuinely funny scenes, and a couple of clever horror-genre references.
Stoned
(Stephen Woolley, 2005)
A fairly average dramatisation of the lead up to the death of Brian Jones. Not helped by the fact that I watched it in close proximity to Van Sant’s far superior Last Days.
The Squid and The Whale
(Noah Baumbach, 2005)
On paper, this looks dull: a story about the effects of divorce on a family. To my surprise, it turned out to be superb, with excellently crafted characters and relationships and great acting all round. The only thing that spoils it is the fact that it’s American, and therefore manifests the dogmatic conviction that therapy is required to bring about genuine self-understanding.
Survive Style 5+
(Gen Sekiguchi, 2004)
A unique, stylish, and surreal interweaving of 5 disparate story-strands into a fascinating whole. The only slightly off-putting aspect is the large amount of English scattered throughout. This will no doubt make it seem ‘cool’ from a Japanese point of view. But ironically, from a Western point of view, what makes the film ‘cool’ is its overridingly bizarre Japanese-ness. But anyway, it’s excellent. Go watch it immediately.
Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
(Adam McKay, 2006)
Much like Anchorman, but with NASCAR drivers instead of newsreaders. Either way, it doesn’t matter, since Ferrell is hilarious. Sacha Baron Cohen is less than 100% effective as a comedy Frenchman (he just doesn’t seem able to bounce off Farrell as well as some actors can), but this is a minor quibble, since a more-than-adequate amount of comedy support is provided by John C. Reilly and Gary Cole.
Tony Takitani
(Jun Ichikawa, 2004)
Based on a short story by Haruki Murakami, this is a slow, surreal, film that sits strangely halfway between kind-of-uplifting and kind-of-depressing. The intriguing characters and storyline make it worthwhile, and it's very nicely shot and edited.
Wedding Crashers
(David Dobkin, 2005)
The plot is pure clichéd romcom-by-numbers, but Wilson and Vaughn (plus Ferrell, in a small part) are funny enough to make it work.
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