Movie Review: Kick-Ass (2010)

Perhaps I have missed the point, but Kickass represents a worrying trend of morally bankrupt teen movies that serve no real purpose other than to shock, offend and satisfy an unhealthy thirst for blood. I’m not squeamish and I’m certainly not aversed to violent films – The Godfather and Pulp Fiction are among my favorite films of all time – but there is an inconsistency about the material and the delivery in Kickass which is more than a little unsettling.

Having seen the trailer, it appeared as though the movie would have some potential; as a bit of a superhero buff, the idea of a geeky teenager becoming a superhero through sheer desire and heart seemed perfect for a journey of comedic splendor while exploring the mythology behind superheroes that fascinates those among us who love comic books. Graphic violence isn’t a problem when handled correctly; Sin City for example has a motif all of its own and the violence contained therein is somewhat detached from everyday life in a similar way to cartoon violence in an Itchy & Scratchy cartoon. Even violence in the aforementioned Tarantino classic Pulp Fiction involves morally compromised gangsters and is stylized in such a way that it fits with the material and doesn’t feature people ‘just like us’. In Kickass, the movie weaves between free-for-all slaughter and the dark sense that this is real life, making the movie contradictory at every turn with its intentions not entirely clear. More unsettling however, is the fact that all this sadism is being carried out by children.

In terms of the plot, Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) is a nerdy high school student and comic book fan who one day decides to become a super-hero, even though he has no powers, training or meaningful reason to do so. Of course there is a girl he pines for named Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca) and the obligatory nerdy sidekick friends. After assuming the persona of Kickass and becoming a YouTube sensation overnight, Dave decides to continue with his superhero shtick. Then this innocent vigilante fantasy turns into a relentlessly violent revenge arc revolving around Damon Macready (Nicholas Cage) and his daughter Mindy (Chloe Grace Moretz). Mindy steals the show with her alter ego ‘Hit Girl’, and her use of profanity and her experience and skill with knives, guns and all manner of other weaponry is intended to shock. After all, she is only eleven years old. Are we really that easily amused that a child using the word ‘c***’ is all it takes to get a cheap laugh?

What is interesting about Hit Girl is the fact that the obsession with weaponry and violence has been directly influenced by her father, who gives her knives and nun chucks for her birthday rather than dolls. In samurai fashion, she disembowels and shoots her way to Frank D’Amico (Mark Strong) the mafia boss responsible for the death of her mother.

This is a film trying to be as tasteless as possible, which I suppose is ultimately the point I’ve not been identifying. There are sexual overtones throughout and there is even a cringeworthy scene in which Hit Girl is dressed in a Britney Spears-style school uniform that makes you wonder if you’ve stumbled upon an illegal website. Then to see said eleven year old girl beaten nearly to death by a mob boss would probably be a step too far even for Quentin Tarantino. Human life has no value in this film; you can see why kids and teens don’t understand the finality of death when they are exposed to supposedly harmless material like this. There is also no real satire to speak of, which is a major disappointment considering the wealth of material available and the fact that the premise of this film has been attempted before (Mystery Men). Despite all this the movie struggles to carve out an identity of its own.

The truth is that this isn’t really a film about ‘real people’ becoming superheroes, unless the ‘real people’ are the kind of cosseted teenagers you see in Hollywood movies who always get what they want in the end, no matter how reprehensible they actually seem to be. Even the protagonist here, the geeky Dave, gets the girl in unorthodox fashion and is not even the slightest bit concerned as he mows down several men with an avalanche of bullets. I get it. We’re not supposed to take it seriously. It is just a film for crying out loud; maybe I should get in line at the humor store as I’ve clearly missed a delivery. But here we have a film that could have explored ideas and could have followed a more original path. Instead, we have a film that prioritizes style over substance and any good intentions are sacrificed early on by the desire to gratify its audience with the ever-irresistible cheap thrill.

TV Review: Gavin & Stacey

This rather ordinary sitcom would not have garnered the acclaim and award recognition that it has were the British comedy landscape not so bereft of exciting scenery at present. G & S is popular because it is about ‘everyday people’ and it is ‘warm’ and ‘cosy’. ‘Funny’ is never the word that anyone will use above all to try and convince you that Gavin & Stacey is actually worth watching. This show is not understated and brilliant; it is a comedy with no comedy and represents little more than a syrupy cuddle on the sofa.

That’s not to say that a warm and fuzzy sitcom is a bad thing; in an age where most comedy shows are engineered to shock and offend or make the viewer squirm with embarrassment, a show with a more wholesome and traditional flavor is actually quite refreshing. However, light-hearted entertainment though it may be, Gavin & Stacey is actually too nice and bland to be funny. It is more in the ‘mildly amusing’ camp, which, again, isn’t necessarily something negative.

For those who don’t know, the groundbreaking premise is that Gavin and his family are from Essex (and are stereotypical and therefore hilarious) and Stacey is from Wales (so her family are stereotypical and therefore hilarious). Gavin and Stacey become a couple in a boy meets girl comedy that is unfortunately as pedestrian as it sounds. There is fun to be had in the vaguely diverting nothing-else-on sort of way, but nothing remotely imaginative enough to evoke any real excitement.

The greatest disappointment is that the comedy is so sub-par. Jokes are so badly telegraphed (as is the case in most current BBC sitcoms) and any other humor is generic, insipid, predictable and downright lame. One wonders how mediocre a show has to be in order to not get huge ratings and win awards in the UK. Some of the US comedies are in a different stratosphere to shows like this; NBC’s worldwide smash hit Friends had its share of treacle moments and spent a lot of time in the romantic comedy genre but it was funny in a way that Gavin & Stacey can never even hope to be.

In essence, Gavin & Stacey is a show about middle of the road people, living middle of the road lives and is aimed squarely at middle of the road Britain. It has an endearing charm that has enabled it to tug at the heartstrings of an awful lot of people, and that is a very good thing indeed. It is undeniable that Gavin & Stacey has the charm all of its own. But perhaps that shouldn’t be enough; there are numerous shows that do this sort of comedy better.

GRADE: B-

Movie Review: James Bond – Quantum of Solace

Many critics felt that the Bond franchise made great strides forward following the rebirth of the series with Casino Royale in 2006. While the film retained the charm intended for the series, it abandoned some of the stale elements and did a reasonably successful job of propelling 007 into the twenty-first century. If that film was deemed a winner, then Quantum of Solace can only represent a regression of sorts; make no mistake, the latest offering from MGM is a confused mess of a motion picture that does nothing to build on the progress made with the film’s prequel.

Expectations were undoubtedly high for this feature and even the most ardent fans will surely accept the disappointment that Quantum of Solace represents. The most frustrating point to be made is that the foundations for a great film were all in place from Casino Royale. Daniel Craig returns as Bond and appears comfortable in the role and his surroundings, delivering a performance full of vigour and gusto. Judy Dench returns as M, and Giancarlo Gianini as the Italian spy.

If Casino Royale was the rebirth equivalent of Batman Begins, then why wasn’t this the equivalent of Dark Knight in terms of building upon existing foundations? Firstly, the plot is very poorly put together and most if not all viewers will exit the cinema wondering what on earth it was all about. Secondly, some of the film just feels like moving through the Bond motions with no sense of spontaneity. One would have hoped that the franchise would have the courage to move beyond Bond girls arbitrarily placed in the film with no real purpose. Even M’s motherly quips to Bond are so tired and overdone that it all feels like we’re back to the Brosnan films all over again. The most damning flaw however is the lack of suspense. There is a feeling of inevitability about every action, no element of surprise and while this has become par for the course of the Bond franchise as a whole, Casino Royale at least had a sense that something different might happen. The Bond girl did not live, for example. Quantum of Solace reverts to type and feels like every other Bond film you’ve ever seen, except this time it follows a suspenseful film that changed the rules even just that little bit.

The directing is, for the most part, poor. MGM are clearly trying to emulate the Bourne series with quick cuts and action sequences that move at frantic pace. But this feels like a poor man’s Bourne, with none of the finesse or skill that made those pictures stand out. The result is that the action sequences here are hilariously over the top and hugely disorientating for viewers. I found myself turning away until the sequences were over.

There is one scene in this film that is criminally not expanded and it would have been a dramatic face-off that could have linked this film to the last one. Indeed, it is the scene that this film should have been building towards. Of course this one scene that viewers would have been looking forward to like the resolution to a cliff hanger is over in five seconds and I can only assume it was deemed unimportant to the film makers. This unbelievable lack of judgment is what compounds the problems of the film as a whole; it just seems like no one knows what they are doing.

There is also some shameful advertising going on as well that is self-referential in its absurdity. If that was the intention then bravo, but it is so clumsy and ridiculous that it surely had to have been on purpose. I suppose the money is more important at this stage. This film is not awful; it can be embraced as disposable entertainment more than readily. But after a step forward for the series, viewers are entitled to more than is on offer here. Rumours abound that this was written while filming was going on; it certainly feels that way. This sort of Bond film might have been acceptable when there was no Bourne or Mission Impossible movies to contend with, but Bond has fallen some way behind, as sad as that is. What we’re left with here is a hollow motion picture that ultimately results in a highly unfulfilling cinematic experience.

GRADE: C-

Movie Review: The Wrestler (2008)

Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler is a pitch perfect representation of the wrestling industry and a fascinating portrait of a man whose star has burnt out. Twenty years after Randy the Ram’s (Mickey Rourke) heyday as a big time professional wrestler in the eighties, he has squandered his money and ignored important family relationships. He is now as washed up as they come, living in the back of a trailer, or sleeping in the back of his truck when he can’t pay the rent. He works the small independent wrestling circuit on the weekends and tries to make extra money as a regular blue collar supermarket employee every weekday hour that is offered to him.

Randy fills many evenings with a trip to the strip club to see the middle-aged Cassidy (Marisa Tomei). She is his only acquaintance. He shows her his battle scars from better days, tells her his stories of former glory, he is her audience, and she is his. Randy has a narcissism about him in that his connection with current events, technology, fashion, all ended when he was no longer a star. He owns a Nintendo Entertainment System from the eighties, but only because there is a game with him in it. By the time the film starts, he is woefully out of touch with modern fashion and pop culture, as evidenced by his choice of clothes as a present for his adolescent daughter. This however makes him charming to an audience and to Cassidy, whose name ‘off duty’ is Pam.

Before seeing it, many will likely perceive this film to be a typical sports movie in the same vein as Rocky, but this is a gross misconception. This is not even a film definitively about wrestling; it is about the industry’s impact on this man’s life and relationships. It launches a scathing attack on the practices the wrestling industry employs and highlights the abuse of a man’s body to satisfy the hunger of the masses. Another particularly impressive aspect of the movie is that it offers enough backstage detail to satisfy wrestling fans but not so much that it alienates a mainstream audience; the balance is between realism and drama is perfect.

The film itself has a relatively linear plot arc, the inciting incident being Randy having coronary bypass surgery after a particularly brutal hardcore match. He is subsequently told not to wrestle anymore and has to withdraw from his big 20th anniversary fight with a wrestler whose gimmick is based on the real life Iron Sheik. He attempts to mend bridges with his daughter, tries to take things to the next level with Cassidy, and tries to work hard like any blue-collar employee. What results is almost inevitable but completely natural, and it is to the film’s credit that the audience will not abandon Randy but will empathise with him.

Some critics have commented that Mickey Rourke’s entire life may as well have been a method acting exercise in preparation for this role, but this is highly disingenuous. Make no mistake, Rourke delivers a tour de force here, the defining performance of his career and it is flawless. The subtlety, charm and pain that he brings to the character makes Randy the Ram the fatally flawed protagonist that he is; this role in the hands of a lesser actor (or indeed the rumoured initial choice Nicholas Cage) would not have carried the same emotional weight. The fact that he has called upon real life experience is neither here nor there; any good actor should be able to play close to himself, but in this instance Rourke is fully immersed as Randy the Ram. Tomei continues her string of excellent performances and is impressive as the stripper with a line that cannot be crossed when it comes to customers.

The Wrestler seems simplistic in its delivery and understated in its approach, but what results is an interesting character study with much to recommend it. I would venture to suggest that the clichéd story with Randy’s daughter is an unnecessary aside as are one or two other scenes in the movie. Nevertheless, excellent performances compliment a downbeat but nevertheless emotionally engaging piece of work that goes against the grain of many a bygone sports movie and becomes compelling viewing.

GRADE: B+

Movie Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2009)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button revolves around a central concept – what if there was a human being who aged backwards? With David Fincher of Fight Club and Zodiac fame at the helm directing, one would assume a man with his experience of directing pieces with the strange and fantastic that he would be perfectly suited to this particular project. Unfortunately, what results is a shameless and incredibly dull piece of cinema that can be adequately labeled as ‘academy award bait.’

Indeed it plays out as though it were a pastiche of a typical Oscar winning film. It has the lot; actors adopting heavy accents, a 2.5 – 3.5 hour running time with cripplingly long and tedious scenes filled with nothingness, a pointless sex scene or two (for ‘grit’) and pitiful attempts at poignant dialogue. The film prances around (much like Cate Blanchett’s dancing character) with self-congratulation, displaying a veneer of cultural significance. What lies beneath is basically nothing at all.

The film begins in New Orleans in 2005 as Hurricane Katrina encircles the city. In a similar plot device to Titanic, on her deathbed in hospital is an old woman named Daisy (Cate Blanchett). Also in the room is her daughter Caroline (Julia Ormond). Daisy instructs her to read from the diary of a man named Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt), and we are then shown vignettes of his life.

Benjamin is born the day after the Great War in 1918, although the significance of this is unclear. His mother dies during childbirth and his father is disgusted and shamed by the baby boy’s appearance; Benjamin is essentially an old man in a baby’s body; his skin is wrinkled, his hair is grey and he has illnesses common to the aged. Thomas Button (Jason Flemyng) abandons him leaving him on the doorstep of a woman who believes she cannot have children of her own. Benjamin is duly found and raised by Queenie (Taraji P. Henson). By the time he is six or seven, he has grown a little in stature but appears as though he were an eight year old man. He meets his future love Daisy when she is a young girl; their relationship transcends their marked difference in appearance as they are really at a similar age.

We then follow Benjamin and are shown the experiences of his life, from his first sexual encounter to his working on a tug boat and his time in World War II. These segments are intersected with scenes of Daisy on her hospital bed looking back on events and filling in the gaps in the story that she is aware of. Benjamin looks younger as each year passes as everyone around him grows older. Benjamin travels far and wide before returning to New Orleans for his love Daisy. Yawn.

The concept for the movie is based on a short story by F.Scott Fitzgerald. However, this conceit does not have substance unless it is held together by a convincing and gripping narrative, which it isn’t in this case. The next issue is a rather important one: Benjamin is a passive protagonist. He is uninteresting because he only reacts to situations around him, he is rarely the one moving the plot (if there even is one) forward and the film suffers dearly as a result. At nearly three hours, for the protagonist to offer no insight into his condition or his feeling makes the project seem even longer than it actually is, which is quite some feat.

Other issues with the film revolve around logic and missed opportunities. Firstly, no one at any point in the film thinks that there is anything that unusual with a man who has reversed the ageing process. How is it possible that no one would have deemed it a good idea to perform scientific tests on Benjamin? Everyone in the film just accepts it as a normal circumstance and this is set in the twentieth century.
But what really drags the film down isn’t its ludicrous logic or even its dual purpose as a highly potent sedative; it is its colossal and crippling lack of substance. Lines are spouted with pompous delusions that the content contained therein is profound; you know, the ‘this is the way life is’ line that seems obligatory for this sort of manipulative guff. In addition, the central relationship is neither believable nor compelling; for this film to be lauded across the land it is a surprise to find the Pitt-Blanchett pairing so devoid of chemistry.

That isn’t to say the two don’t produce good work here; Pitt was nominated for Best Actor and he turns in a decent enough performance here but his portrayal lacks the subtlety and dynamism needed to launch him to that next level. This is partly down to a role that renders him passive and partly down to a lack of exploration by him and the writers when the issue of how it feels to be old in a young body and vice versa is addressed. In short, this film doesn’t really confront the issue (the only one worth a damn) at all and what we are left with is a run-of-the-mill glorified romantic epic.

What certainly isn’t in doubt is the quality of the make-up work and the cinematography, both of which are truly exceptional and make the film worth a watch. Pitt looks the part every inch of the way and the film is beautifully lit and shot. But visuals do not necessarily make a great film and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button falls woefully short because it is ultimately a rather hollow and unsatisfying experience that amounts to little more than a desperate plea for an Oscar.

GRADE: C-

Movie Review: Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix (2007)

Well it’s official. It appears Mrs Rowling has finally run out of ideas; not that they were particularly groundbreaking to begin with. Don’t mistake a negative commentary as evidence of a bias against the series; I quite enjoyed the previous two offerings. I wish I could say the same for the fifth instalment, but in Order if the Phoenix we are presented with very little in terms of new entertainment, plot or character development. Length is not a substitute for quality, and here we have a film that feels like bits and bobs of information have been pasted together in one over-long and self indulgent motion picture.

As is to be expected, the cast of the previous films return for another year at Hogwarts. Daniel Radcliffe returns as the all-too-perfect Harry, Emma Watson as the brains of this amateur Nancy Drew crew and the token in-between man, Ron Weasly, is once again played by Rupert Grint. The Order of the Phoenix itself seems more of a panic-induced last minute title than anything else, the time given to anything remotely resembling the Order or its significance must cover all of two and a half minutes of screen time. Although the previous books and films had some sort of central event to revolve around, this template does not return for this instalment. In fact, we find out two or three nuggets of important information and that pretty much sums up the entire film.

The film begins with everyone at Hogwarts and the ministry of magic believing that Harry is a liar, that he did not see “he who cannot be named.” For a start this seems inexplicable considering Harry’s status and perfect record in absolutely everything. The fact that supposedly intelligent adult wizards and witches are consumed with unqualified denial also adds fuel to the fire that says that Rowling really didn’t have a lot to say here. In short, Harry trains up the students in the art of battle, has a couple of lessons, has a brief rendezvous with Voldemort at the end and learns of a prophecy that he or Voldemort must die. Harry also has his first kiss, but this is his only interaction with Cho in the whole film, they say no more than two or three words to each other.

The acting is at a decent standard here, with the star turn undoubtedly being attributed to Emelda Staunton as the meddling Delores Umbridge. As usual, the adults out-act the youths in every scene, but it isn’t as noticeable as the first two films. Emma Watson has finally played down her seemingly incessant over-acting with a far more balanced performance here, after all this time the jury is still out on Radcliffe, (although his character is remarkably one-dimensional) while Rupert Grint remains the most consistent with his sit-on-the fence style. As usual the seasoned pros such as Alan Rickman and Michael Gambon deliver the performances expected of veterans, despite the unmistakably mundane dialogue that has come to characterise the films.

There is some good in this however. The ministry taking over the school is an intriguing development and I particularly enjoyed the enforced curriculum changes, making magic theory-based. This is a relevant parallel to draw when one considers the similar changes in the educational system in the UK since 1997. Delores Umbridge is a delightfully conniving character, if somewhat unoriginal. But originality is not why we watch the series, surely, or else we would be irritated by the almost genetic similarities of Tolkien’s Gandalf and Rowling’s Dumbledore.

The main problem with this film is that there is no real sustained structure; it is essentially a bridging film. After two and a half more hours, the story has hardly advanced. I’m sure no-one despises Rowling for milking the cash cow, but stretching a battle with Voldemort over three and half books/films is bordering on tedium. By fluke, genuinely interesting story and cut-throat marketing, the Harry Potter franchise has become a phenomenon. But this offering serves as a reminder that beneath all the hype, the formula is becoming extremely repetitive and the characters somewhat ordinary. It is a shame considering the adventurous feel of the last two pictures, but unfortunately here we have an instalment (both cinematically and in literary terms) that only exists because of the brightly lit dollar signs that come with it.

GRADE: C

Album Review: Madonna – Hard Candy (2008)

There is a general consensus that the time for frolicking in underwear and leotards for Miss Madonna Louise Ciccone has long since passed her by. Yet still she insists on videos and photo shoots that are likely to terrify her children in years to come. Admittedly, she still looks remarkably good for her age but as soon as people start telling you this, it is probably time to put the thongs away.

Lest we forget, it is worth noting that Madonna’s primary source of business is supposed to be her music. Her latest offering, Hard Candy, is an upbeat and fun-filled bubble of a ‘pop/rnb/hip-hop/whatever happens to be in vogue – no pun intended’ album. While it panders shamelessly to a mainstream audience with all the subtlety of one of those men wearing cardboard Pizza Hut adverts in Oxford Street, the album is easy enough on the ear and represents a decent enough addition to Madge’s behemoth of a discography.

Yes, the arrangements feel more formulaic than an episode of Scooby Doo and yes the collaborations involve bling laden rap acts serving as introducers to a highly lucrative market. And indeed, it all feels a little like production by numbers and as contrived as the Beckham-Cruise celebrity friendship, but surely this sort of music should be about having a good time rather than lyrical musings and philosophical interludes? If you want to get down and boogie or have some tracks blaring out of your car speakers with your windows down on one of the two days there will be sun this year, you could do worse than Hard Candy. Of course I won’t be doing that because I’d be eaten alive.

Don’t even let the fact that the album’s first single is more than a little reminiscent of an infamous So Solid Crew track. And don’t even be put off by Timbaland doing his customary big man rapper shtick of saying absolutely nothing of any tangible relevance (usually four or five words, repeat as necessary) in brief cameo appearances designed to remind you that you’re hearing ‘urban’ music here and that makes it cool by definition. From the understated gem of an appearance on Timberlake’s Cry Me A River that gave us ‘the damage is done so I’ll guess I’ll be leaving’, we now get the carefully chosen ‘I’m out of time and all I got is four minutes’, interspersed with the occasional ‘hey’. The guy would be truly outstanding on Twitter.

We could nit-pick and dare to actually ask why Madonna and co only have four minutes to do whatever it is they are doing/have to do, or perhaps we could grow tiresome of this idea being sold to us by Kanye and Madge that the beat is indeed going on, and on, and on. We could even suggest that the album is totally uninspired and lacks personality. Then we could add yet more fuel to this critical fire by noting that Madonna used to innovate and now has decided that it is far easier to make mass produced ‘down with the kids’ records with no substance than it is to strive for artistic acclaim. But to do any of the above is to probably miss the point. Bland and poorly written some of the songs may be, this album is about having some fun; there isn’t enough of it in the music industry these days. This is as close as the Material Girl gets to a ‘popcorn’ album so we can probably allow her the indulgence this time. But when the time comes for her next outing, I wouldn’t think twice about advising the queen of pop that she might want to at least think about keeping her clothes on.

GRADE: B-