Friday 17 January 2014

American Hustle: Everyday I'm Russellin'

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The stratospheric success of David O'Russell's latest film has made it a must review, if not necessarily a must see, movie. With a nomination haul outstripping Kim Kardashian's nose job count, the notches on Charlie Sheen's bedpost and my own gratuitous pop-culutre references combined, taking places in every conceivable category from best animated short to most hypnotic onscreen combover, the academy's love for this convoluted rom-con truly knows no bounds. The story follows a con artist power couple busted by the police and forced into increasingly elaborate and dangerous deceptions by an overly ambitious, utterly clueless FBI agent for reasons that aren't wholly explained. Throw in a mafia boss cameo by one of the greats and an incendiary nutcase of a wife and you've got yourself one incessant, highly entertaining but surprisingly forgettable cinematic experience.
American Hustle is great in a number of areas. The soundtrack is a combination of irony laced period funk reinforcing the genre and decade of the movie's setting while enhancing the comedy in much of the narrative. The direction is stylish and assured as Russell, clearly relaxed working with a core cast of old faces, uses a point and shoot approach towards filming, adding an almost voyeuristic element to the character interaction making it all the more engrossing.

Retirement had not been kind to Batman...
However, it is the dialogue and the actors delivering it that the films success is truly owed to. Christian Bale, sporting the world's most intricate hair piece and the physique of a middle aged trucker, is a brilliant leading man giving a performance on par with his Oscar winning turn in The Fighter. Bradley Cooper is equally great as the springy haired, loose canon FBI agent with many of their scenes together making up the movies best moments. Amy Adams despite putting on an English accent that makes her sound like a drunken Nigella Lawson impersonator for much of the film, is sizzling as the object of both of their joint affections while Jennifer Lawrence as Bales ultra-manipulative adopted baby momma is hilarious in each and every one of her scenes, even if at times they feel slightly unnecessary. Jeremy Renner, with the hair of a young Elvis, the enthusiasm of a golden retriever and the social policies of Mahatma Ghandi, is hugely likable as the everyman mayor of New Jersey, who the rest of the cast are looking to con the shit out of. Although even his boy scout pure persona starts to show cracks as the movie goes on, reinforcing the central theme that appearance is everything but means nothing.

American Hustle's story, however, is where Russell goes wrong. As confusing as a multi-story car park masterminded by M. Night Shyamalan the various narrative strands become more tangled than the tentacles of an Octopus in the midst of frantic Bop-it marathon. The movie and the actions of its characters become progressively more ridiculous and non-sensical to the point where you almost cease to care about the endless web of elaborate cons unfolding before your eyes as the film loses what little discernible direction it had at the start.

Like an out-house made of Picasso originals American Hustle, while fun and functional, is ultimately worth less than the sum of its parts, no matter how well written or beautifully purmed those parts may be. 6/10 stars

Thursday 16 January 2014

Pan's Labyrinth: Not your average fairytale

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If you came to Pan's Labyrinth expecting a charming, hispanic fairytale then you better buckle up because you're in for one traumatic ride. With a narrative more layered than a genetically enhanced super onion, and twice as tear inducing, Guillermo Del Toro's 2006 cinematic effort brands itself on your memory banks and refuses to fade until several group therapy sessions later.

The film is set in 1944 in rural Spain, during the beginning of the end for Franco's fascist regime. The story follows Ophelia as she travels with her pregnant mother to the country home of her military captain step-father in preparation for the birth of his son and her half-brother. Before she can even finish unpacking, Ophelia is enticed down a disused well by a fairy-insect hybrid before being told she is the Princess of the underworld and that she must prove her innocence before claiming her throne. If all this sounds like the familiar story troupes of the fairytale genre think again. Any whimsical elements of Ophelia's tale are quickly dispelled by the accompanying, bloody narrative focusing on a Spanish rebel groups fight for freedom against an oppressive regime as well as the ill-fated members of the Captain's inner-circle that try to aid them. Oh and Vidal, the Captain, turning a man's face into a cup holder with an empty wine bottle in the first 10 minutes of the movie also went some way to dispelling the fairytale cliches.

The movie as a whole is brilliantly crafted boasting both skillful, measured direction and uninhibited imagination. The editing and cinematography subtly reinforce the theme of two opposing worlds, ethereal fantasy and brutal wartime reality, as scenes of Ofelia battling Del Toro's wondrous brain creatures are seamlessly blended with shots of fascist soldiers patrolling the nearby woods for freedom fighters. Everything feels damp, earthy and at times deeply unsettling as Guillermo reminds us of his horror movie roots by providing the audience with more "don't go in there moments" than a drunken hernia operation.

Ophelia wasn't sold on the new morphsuit design
Ophelia, played by Ivana Baquero, with the bravery of a bomb disposal worker who wrestles sharks in her spare time and the innocent naivety of, well, a twelve year old is captivating in the leading role, even if at times her actions do make you cringe harder than a your Gran's thoughts on immigration. The rest of the cast are all solid in their respective roles, with two particular, movie making, stand-outs. Doug Jones is fantastic as the world's creepiest and creakiest faun and terrifying as the famous Pale Man, think Stallone when his Botox and steroid supplies run dry. Seriously, having watched him play Abe Spaien in the Hellboy movies Jones' talent levels could only be upped if it was discovered he spent his spare time juggling live honey badgers and bringing peace to the middle east.
But the true show stealer is the monstrous Vidal, played by Sergi Lopez. The Captain's transition from a vaguely intimidating, grumpy grease ball into a terrifying fascist robot death machine is sudden, brutal and one of the films most memorable moments. The progressively more violent and sadistic actions of this Spanish terminator aim to reinforce one of the key themes of the movie, this being that all the saggy skinned child eating monsters and Anne Widdcombe look-a-likes in Del Toro's fantastical mind hole are nothing when compared with the evils of man and the brutality people are capable of.

Pan's Labyrinth does have one major flaw however and that is the criminal underuse of the incredible fantasy world that the title and many of the early scenes had promised. Instead the, very worthy, but decidedly generic human conflict takes centre stage and by the time the credits had started to role I felt teased and cheated of a movie that had shown the potential to be truly great, but failed to quite live up to it's early promise.

Pan's Labyrinth is a stunning, though-provoking film, and despite being a little fantasy set-piece light, is a gothic, and at times grotesque, high-point of Del Toro's career that'll rob you of more sleep than a needy newborn and keep you thinking long after its over. 8/10


Tuesday 14 January 2014

Project X: The Game Changer... well, not really.

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A drug fueled montage of tequila, rogue twerking and midget rage... but enough about my Tuesday nights, on to the review.

Project X is a simple film. It sets out with a tried and tested premise, a century old "found footage" directing gimmick and a single aim; to have a seriously good time, whether you want to join in or not. And good lord does it succeed. The film follows a day in the life of 3 socially awkward friends, determined to change their bottom of the food chain school status by throwing a county wide birthday bash. Needless to say things get wildly out of hand, but with a premise this revolutionary the film couldn't help but be great, right? Well, yeah actually, it sort of is. The cast are headed by a pre-pubescent Jonah Hill (not actually Jonah Hill), a sentient lizard man (solid actor, one to watch) and Tony Sopranos sexpest nephew (knob).

The war for the sweater-vest had gotten out of hand
The film plays out like a 80 minute long music video on acid; sporadically interspersed with the kind of set pieces, ranging from sleep inducing to eyebrow singeing, that seem to have been the product of a stoned Sunday afternoon brain storming session between director Todd Philips and his dog.
Project X may indeed lack the remotest iota of focus or originality but it does succeed in capturing the pre-party combination of tense excitement and expectant nerves while introducing some pretty thought provoking concepts along the way. "Will anyone show up?" "Will the party be chill?" "Is my blimp sized best friend going to eat all the snacks?" These are just some of the burning, universal questions that it boldly asks - truly a film for our times. The moral of the narrative, if I was pushed to search for one, would probably be that destroying your house, car and much of the surrounding neighborhood is all worth it for 15 seconds of vague acceptance from a group of near strangers who you'll almost certainly never see again, and you know what? I was totally onboard.
While it may be more repetitive than a Mormon fashion show this movie got me feeling excited and party ready, that is, of course before the adrenalin drained away and the depressing realities of my pizza box and red-bull can strewn surroundings killed my momentary buzz.
This is one of those films that really deserves two ratings, with an argument for it being placed at both ends of the star spectrum. The narrative is more predictable than J-beebz' latest album, there's better character development in your average supermarket advert and at times the movie looks like it's been filmed on a toaster but if you push past those significant drawbacks and decided to dive straight in, grab a fistful of ecstasy and join in the body shots (metaphorically speaking) the film is plain, addictive fun.
5/10 stars

Monday 13 January 2014

Kill Bill Volume 2: The Thurmanator returns…

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The second half of Tarantino's 2 part revenge epic, about a samurai Bride exacting brutal retribution against her former assassin family, treads decidedly similar ground to its predecessor but also manages to develop and improve on it in nearly every way.
QT continues to reference and combine a variety of genres, displayed in the films narrative and his own style of direction; as crime thriller noir, samurai B movie and old school westerns are all blended together in a glorious celluloid smoothie. This is displayed in the black and white prologue, an inspired mash up of pan flute backed Mexican standoff style close ups and hipster foot fetishism. The violence, like a streaking midget at a football match, is equally shocking despite being on a smaller scale, as shots of various bodily mutilation aim to increase the movie's wince factor.
The dialogue is back to it's darkly hilarious best and even the character development has taken a serious step up. Despite much of the supporting cast having the collective life span of a snowman in the Sahara desert some almost border on becoming well rounded, that is, of course, before Thurman rocks up and turns them all into human hacky sacks. An insight is provided into Budd, Bill's brother and a name on The Bride's hit list, played by Michael Madsen, and his quite literally shitty post assassin life. Sporting a rattail mullet dirty enough to keep your average McDonalds stocked in chip grease for a month, Madsen is a whole lot of sardonic, alcohol soaked fun to watch while Darrly Hannah's one eyed Mean Girl, Elle, is equally entertaining if slightly low on the dimensions. 

Calving the turkey had been an absolute nightmare.

Even the origins of The Bride's bad-assery (hyphens make anything a word, I promise) are explored, as she embarks on the mother of all training montages under the tutelage of her delightfully abusive, Japan-aphobe (remember what I said about the hyphens!) master Pai Mei. 
It is David Carradine however who steals the show as the most engaging villain this side of Breaking Bad. With a voice that could melt an iceberg or make a wolverine skip the purring stage and go straight to fetal he is simultaneously charming and deadly, making you almost sympathize with him before reminding yourself that the title of the whole movie has already spelled out his fate. (Spoiler alert, I guess) A fate that came to pass, arguably, in almost anti-climatic fashion. After two movies and over 4 hours, of characters exploding like a flock of pigeons in a rice paddy if Thurman so much as breathed on them, the final film should've, by all accounts, culminated in a death resembling a nuke hitting a freshly stocked blood bank however Tarantino is decidedly reserved. And as a result this final kill holds far more emotional weight than the previous 266, 724 (rough figure) combined, making for an almost tear jerking end to the Kill Bill saga.
Kill Bill Vol. 2 was my first experience of Tarantino's films, and despite my love for QT's movies having diminished significantly since starting this collection of reviews a few decades ago, this lesser known and loved sequel (christ, I'm so indie!) has always held a special place in my heart and while I can appreciate it may not be his finest work it remains my personal favorite. 7/10 stars