Well now, here we have that rarest of creatures: a warm-hearted family movie that doesn’t make you want to stab out your own liver just to cease the abundant production of bile.
The plot: A young boy is discovered wandering with no memory as to his identity. He can remember basic things like speech and blinking and how to walk around without falling over, but details of his past life are none-existent. Taken into foster care it soon becomes apparent that Daryl is not like ordinary boys. He isn't rude, doesn't swear and, by the Christ's, he's really good at playing Pole Position and baseball.
One day, Daryl's real parents show up, ostensibly to take him home but, when they actually take him to The Pentagon, it soon transpires that D.A.R.Y.L. is not just different to other boys,....he's not even human!!! A military experiment in artificial intelligence now deemed awry, the military decide to do away with the project, but Daryl has other plans and, before you know it, he's stolen a Stealth Bomber and is cruising back home at Mach 2.25......
Whilst the potential for schmaltz is pretty damned high, the director does a decent job of keeping the vomit factor turned down low. The interplay between the lead character and his young friend is deftly handled, with genuine warmth, and there's a nice line in humour, too. Not the lighting your farts on fire, sticking your dick into an apple pie variety that passes for comedy these days but, you know, proper situational mirth.
Made in '85, and looking every day of its age, this is engaging sci-fi lite that has real charm and is certainly a movie for all the family. Heck, this wouldn't even offend Great Grandma Mosefus, and she's such a puritan she won't even look at a ripened pear for fear it may provoke lustful thoughts. S
o, throw away all your grisly horror, tear up your Stephen King books, put down that DVD copy of Jenna Haze Does the 49ers, and settle back for a pleasantly retro movie with a real nostalgic kick.
Liked it.
3 out of 5
Wednesday 23 February 2011
The Machinist (2004) Dir: Brad Anderson
Tense, claustrophobic psychological thriller that sees a stick-thin Christian Bale slowly losing his mind.
The plot:
Bale plays Trevor Reznik, a machine operator in a grimy looking factory who claims to have not slept in over a year. Painfully thin to the point of emaciation, with sunken eyes and bones jutting out left right and centre, it is easy to believe him.
At work, one day, Trevor is involved in an accident that sees one of his workmates' arms badly injured, the accident caused because Trevor was distracted by another worker, a man he believes is named Ivan, though the management claim there is no Ivan on the payroll.
So begins a sequence of events that will see Trevor's mind slowly unravel until, eventually, the truth is revealed.
And it's powerful stuff.
Bale is in fine form as the bag of skin and boooons himself, highly convincing as a man living right on the edge.
The movie is shot with some form of filter, which casts everything in a greenish grey hue, rendering all on screen grim and grotty and grimy.
Jennifer Jason Leigh pops up from time to time in prostitute mode, and her 'weirdo' screen presence only serves to add to the otherworldly feel to proceedings, a sensation intensified by the soundtrack which utilises an instrument known as a theremin to give a 50's sci-fi paranoid edge to the score.
Intriguing, intense and intelligent, this is a very good film indeed.
4 out of 5
The plot:
Bale plays Trevor Reznik, a machine operator in a grimy looking factory who claims to have not slept in over a year. Painfully thin to the point of emaciation, with sunken eyes and bones jutting out left right and centre, it is easy to believe him.
At work, one day, Trevor is involved in an accident that sees one of his workmates' arms badly injured, the accident caused because Trevor was distracted by another worker, a man he believes is named Ivan, though the management claim there is no Ivan on the payroll.
So begins a sequence of events that will see Trevor's mind slowly unravel until, eventually, the truth is revealed.
And it's powerful stuff.
Bale is in fine form as the bag of skin and boooons himself, highly convincing as a man living right on the edge.
The movie is shot with some form of filter, which casts everything in a greenish grey hue, rendering all on screen grim and grotty and grimy.
Jennifer Jason Leigh pops up from time to time in prostitute mode, and her 'weirdo' screen presence only serves to add to the otherworldly feel to proceedings, a sensation intensified by the soundtrack which utilises an instrument known as a theremin to give a 50's sci-fi paranoid edge to the score.
Intriguing, intense and intelligent, this is a very good film indeed.
4 out of 5
Tuesday 15 February 2011
No Country For Old Men (2007) Dir: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Debate has raged since the Coen's won the best director gong as to whether the award was given for this movie in particular, or because it was simply their turn, almost as a lifetime achievement award. Given the quality of the movie itself, I would have to strongly dispute the latter notion.
The plot: An everyday Joe - Brolin's Llewelyn Moss - stumbles upon the remnants of a drug-deal gone bad. Corpses are decomposing whilst, in a suitcase, $2,000,000.
Moss takes the case and does a bunk.
Inevitably, when dealing with such a sum of cash, there are people who want it back, badly. One such person is Javier Bardem's maniacal, psychopathic Anton Chigurh, a ruthless killer, cold, emotionless who closes in on Moss using a tracking device placed inside the case.
With Tommy Lee Jones' useless cop in charge of the investigation into the trail of corpses being left behind in Chigurh's pursuit of the money, it seems the only question worth asking is when will Moss be killed, not if.
With stunning cinematography throughout - seriously, each and every shot just oozes class - and stellar performances from all of the leads, this is top quality cinema.
Bardem's performance as the sadistic and brutal Chigurh is one to freeze the blood, and a more menacing screen presence I am hard-pushed to recall.
Though Blood Simple or Fargo may be considered the masterpiece of the Coen's by purists, surely this one offers some fairly stiff opposition.
5 out of 5.
And then some.
The plot: An everyday Joe - Brolin's Llewelyn Moss - stumbles upon the remnants of a drug-deal gone bad. Corpses are decomposing whilst, in a suitcase, $2,000,000.
Moss takes the case and does a bunk.
Inevitably, when dealing with such a sum of cash, there are people who want it back, badly. One such person is Javier Bardem's maniacal, psychopathic Anton Chigurh, a ruthless killer, cold, emotionless who closes in on Moss using a tracking device placed inside the case.
With Tommy Lee Jones' useless cop in charge of the investigation into the trail of corpses being left behind in Chigurh's pursuit of the money, it seems the only question worth asking is when will Moss be killed, not if.
With stunning cinematography throughout - seriously, each and every shot just oozes class - and stellar performances from all of the leads, this is top quality cinema.
Bardem's performance as the sadistic and brutal Chigurh is one to freeze the blood, and a more menacing screen presence I am hard-pushed to recall.
Though Blood Simple or Fargo may be considered the masterpiece of the Coen's by purists, surely this one offers some fairly stiff opposition.
5 out of 5.
And then some.
Monday 14 February 2011
Sanctum (2011) Dir: Alister Grierson
You know when you get the urge to do something really adventurous? It strikes from time to time, when the grim reality of my own pointless existence hits home and I think I need to do something, anything just to spice things up a little.
Well, here's my advice: Don't go fucking caving.
The plot: With a cyclone closing in fast, a group of cave explorers find themselves trapped in the bowels of the Papua New Guinean Earth, their only hope for survival being to find a way through the unexplored section of the cave system in the hope of locating an exit.
With a father and son in the team who really don't like each other too much, and the same father and his boss who seem to like each other even less, expect plenty of emotional over-wroughtness and testosterone fulled rantings.
And the only question is not whether they will survive, but how many of them will die along the way.
Essentially, this is after all a movie about a bunch of people wandering around in a cave, so you may feel that it will struggle for legs but the energy of the on screen action keeps the momentum flowing just nicely. Whilst the characterisations are a tad on the thin side, the writers at least have a go and are partially successful, as the leader of the expedition is massively engaging; brash, abrasive, utterly focused on what needs to be done, an automaton in a wetsuit, whilst his boss is perhaps one of the most dislikable characters in movie history; handsome, successful, confident, physically fit.
Seriously, he made me want to puke.
Jamews Cameron's name tag remains something of a mystery, save for the obvious financial gain such a label will bring, and the 3D is utterly redundant but, those issues aside, this is an efficient enough 'will they escape the calamity' movie in the mould of The Poseidon Adventure.
Not as bad as many would have you believe.
3 out of 5
Well, here's my advice: Don't go fucking caving.
The plot: With a cyclone closing in fast, a group of cave explorers find themselves trapped in the bowels of the Papua New Guinean Earth, their only hope for survival being to find a way through the unexplored section of the cave system in the hope of locating an exit.
With a father and son in the team who really don't like each other too much, and the same father and his boss who seem to like each other even less, expect plenty of emotional over-wroughtness and testosterone fulled rantings.
And the only question is not whether they will survive, but how many of them will die along the way.
Essentially, this is after all a movie about a bunch of people wandering around in a cave, so you may feel that it will struggle for legs but the energy of the on screen action keeps the momentum flowing just nicely. Whilst the characterisations are a tad on the thin side, the writers at least have a go and are partially successful, as the leader of the expedition is massively engaging; brash, abrasive, utterly focused on what needs to be done, an automaton in a wetsuit, whilst his boss is perhaps one of the most dislikable characters in movie history; handsome, successful, confident, physically fit.
Seriously, he made me want to puke.
Jamews Cameron's name tag remains something of a mystery, save for the obvious financial gain such a label will bring, and the 3D is utterly redundant but, those issues aside, this is an efficient enough 'will they escape the calamity' movie in the mould of The Poseidon Adventure.
Not as bad as many would have you believe.
3 out of 5
Thursday 10 February 2011
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier Dir: William Shatner(!)
You remember this one.
You know you do.
No?
Here's a quick reminder:
Kirk, Spock and Bones at Yosemite.
Uhura dancing suggestively.
Scotty's paunch.
Spock appears to be turning to leather.
Kirk battles and actually manages to defeat 'God.'
Oh, there's some guff involving the Romulans and the Klingons but, frankly, who cares as this is an absolute mess.
The humour, such an effective ingredient in Trek IV here feels forced and contrived.
The crew, whilst hardly at their best in the last two outings, now appear to be teetering on the brink of senility.
It has oft been said that the odd numbered Trek movies are poor and, with this as Exhibit A, it seems there is some validity to the argument.
Things are set to improve markedly with the next movie, though, so fear not.
And to think, this was released the same year the magnificent third season of The Next Generation aired.
Picard must have been laughing all the way to the holodeck.
2 out of 5
You know you do.
No?
Here's a quick reminder:
Kirk, Spock and Bones at Yosemite.
Uhura dancing suggestively.
Scotty's paunch.
Spock appears to be turning to leather.
Kirk battles and actually manages to defeat 'God.'
Oh, there's some guff involving the Romulans and the Klingons but, frankly, who cares as this is an absolute mess.
The humour, such an effective ingredient in Trek IV here feels forced and contrived.
The crew, whilst hardly at their best in the last two outings, now appear to be teetering on the brink of senility.
It has oft been said that the odd numbered Trek movies are poor and, with this as Exhibit A, it seems there is some validity to the argument.
Things are set to improve markedly with the next movie, though, so fear not.
And to think, this was released the same year the magnificent third season of The Next Generation aired.
Picard must have been laughing all the way to the holodeck.
2 out of 5
Wednesday 9 February 2011
Shutter (2008) Dir: Masayuki Ochiai
Desperately tedious American remake of a Thai horror of the same name.
The plot: Whilst driving through a narrow country lane, a couple skid off the road after a young woman steps out on them but, when they recover from the accident, there is no sign of the woman herself. Trying to settle into their new life in Tokyo, from the moment of the accident, their lives start to spiral into a maelstrom of fear and delusion.
And deathly dullness.
This actually made me angry.
Imagine, if you will, making a slightly 'slow' ten year old watch Ringu, then handing the child a camera and saying 'See what you can do, son."
Predictable to the point of actual physical pain, this throws all the usual tricks at the dreadfully jaded viewer:
Jerky movements?
Check.
Strobe effects?
Check.
Spooky young woman with bedraggled black hair?
Check.
Check. Check. Freakin' check.
Apparently the Thai original is far superior.
Now there's a surprise.
2 out of 5
The plot: Whilst driving through a narrow country lane, a couple skid off the road after a young woman steps out on them but, when they recover from the accident, there is no sign of the woman herself. Trying to settle into their new life in Tokyo, from the moment of the accident, their lives start to spiral into a maelstrom of fear and delusion.
And deathly dullness.
This actually made me angry.
Imagine, if you will, making a slightly 'slow' ten year old watch Ringu, then handing the child a camera and saying 'See what you can do, son."
Predictable to the point of actual physical pain, this throws all the usual tricks at the dreadfully jaded viewer:
Jerky movements?
Check.
Strobe effects?
Check.
Spooky young woman with bedraggled black hair?
Check.
Check. Check. Freakin' check.
Apparently the Thai original is far superior.
Now there's a surprise.
2 out of 5
Wednesday 2 February 2011
Saw V (2008) Dir: David Hackl
Flashbacks.
Traps.
Jigsaw wreaking havoc from beyond the grave.
A new Jigsaw in town.
Spinning blades.
Flying entrails.
More plot contrivances than you can shake a thumbscrew at.
Getting quite tiresome, now.
Can't take much more of this.
Rapidly running out of steam.
Laboured.
Franchise in free fall.
If you listen carefully, you can just hear the sound of the scriptwriters desperately trying to tie together all the loose threads.
Failing.
Give up trying.
Plot groans under the sheer weight of it's own implausibility.
Where does he get the money from?
And the time?
Only 1 more to go and they've all been seen.
Oh the sweet mercy.
Enough now.
Enough.
Please, someone, make the bleeding stop.
2 out of 5
Traps.
Jigsaw wreaking havoc from beyond the grave.
A new Jigsaw in town.
Spinning blades.
Flying entrails.
More plot contrivances than you can shake a thumbscrew at.
Getting quite tiresome, now.
Can't take much more of this.
Rapidly running out of steam.
Laboured.
Franchise in free fall.
If you listen carefully, you can just hear the sound of the scriptwriters desperately trying to tie together all the loose threads.
Failing.
Give up trying.
Plot groans under the sheer weight of it's own implausibility.
Where does he get the money from?
And the time?
Only 1 more to go and they've all been seen.
Oh the sweet mercy.
Enough now.
Enough.
Please, someone, make the bleeding stop.
2 out of 5
Tuesday 1 February 2011
Hereafter (2010) Dir: Clint Eastwood
I love Clint.
That old, grizzled, slab of a man can do little wrong as far as this household is concerned, so it was with some expectancy that I settled in for a near two and a half hour meditation on the afterlife and, by the end, I was left a tad deflated.
The plot:
Three plot strands interweave:
1: A successful French reporter suffers a tragedy whilst on vacation, swept away in a tsunami and, fleetingly, apparently dies. After the horrendous ordeal, reflecting on her experience, her life begins to unravel.
2: A young English boy whose twin brother dies when hit by a van on a London street. Sent into foster care due to a drug and alcohol addicted neglectful mother, he finds it hard to come to terms with the loss of his sibling and sets about trying to contact him from the beyond.
3: A retired American psychic (Matt Damon) who has turned his back on his craft, considering his ability less a gift than a curse, aware that his uncanny talent, whilst putting him in touch with the dead renders him lonely and isolated amongst the living.
Inevitably, as the movie meanders to its conclusion, the three lives intertwine.
With a breath-taking opening sequence that just has to be seen, the film soon starts to drag it's heels, struggling to live up to the drama.
Whilst the concepts are sound, Clint's trademark laconic, almost lazy directorial style - and I don't mean that as a criticism. Quite the opposite - which is usually such a strength, here seems to suck the energy out of proceedings. Scenes drag on for just a fraction too long and, with minimal use of incidental music, the whole thing just feels a little flat.
The performances are solid enough, with the possible exception of the young boy who is about as animated as a rusty nail, and the characters are intriguing, but it is just too damned ponderous.
An additional irritation is the vaguely stereotypical portrayal of London, which is just a hairs breadth away from Victorian urchins, chimney sweeps and bluff old sorts singing Knees Up Mother Brown talking about climbing the 'apples and pears' and using their 'mince pies'. Made me wonder whether Clint has ever actually seen London beyond the glare of the paparazzi lenses and the length of red carpet.
Perhaps with some tighter editing and more of a sense of urgency, this could have been great. As it is, it is acceptable, though no more and, frankly, coming from the mighty Eastwood, that is less than we have come to expect.
3 out of 5
That old, grizzled, slab of a man can do little wrong as far as this household is concerned, so it was with some expectancy that I settled in for a near two and a half hour meditation on the afterlife and, by the end, I was left a tad deflated.
The plot:
Three plot strands interweave:
1: A successful French reporter suffers a tragedy whilst on vacation, swept away in a tsunami and, fleetingly, apparently dies. After the horrendous ordeal, reflecting on her experience, her life begins to unravel.
2: A young English boy whose twin brother dies when hit by a van on a London street. Sent into foster care due to a drug and alcohol addicted neglectful mother, he finds it hard to come to terms with the loss of his sibling and sets about trying to contact him from the beyond.
3: A retired American psychic (Matt Damon) who has turned his back on his craft, considering his ability less a gift than a curse, aware that his uncanny talent, whilst putting him in touch with the dead renders him lonely and isolated amongst the living.
Inevitably, as the movie meanders to its conclusion, the three lives intertwine.
With a breath-taking opening sequence that just has to be seen, the film soon starts to drag it's heels, struggling to live up to the drama.
Whilst the concepts are sound, Clint's trademark laconic, almost lazy directorial style - and I don't mean that as a criticism. Quite the opposite - which is usually such a strength, here seems to suck the energy out of proceedings. Scenes drag on for just a fraction too long and, with minimal use of incidental music, the whole thing just feels a little flat.
The performances are solid enough, with the possible exception of the young boy who is about as animated as a rusty nail, and the characters are intriguing, but it is just too damned ponderous.
An additional irritation is the vaguely stereotypical portrayal of London, which is just a hairs breadth away from Victorian urchins, chimney sweeps and bluff old sorts singing Knees Up Mother Brown talking about climbing the 'apples and pears' and using their 'mince pies'. Made me wonder whether Clint has ever actually seen London beyond the glare of the paparazzi lenses and the length of red carpet.
Perhaps with some tighter editing and more of a sense of urgency, this could have been great. As it is, it is acceptable, though no more and, frankly, coming from the mighty Eastwood, that is less than we have come to expect.
3 out of 5
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