movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

"I love robbing the English, they're so polite."

How does one distinguish the difference between a masterpiece and just another ordinary comedy? For starters, an ordinary comedy is commonly clichéd beyond all comprehension - i.e. characters are standard, events are glaringly foreseeable and the structure is far too formulaic. In addition, an ordinary comedy usually features well-known actors who are so desperate for laughs that they overact (like Will Ferrell, Jim Carrey, and so on) rather than dispersing clever, witty, cerebral dialogue. In an ordinary comedy the laughs are also predominantly forgettable. And finally, an ordinary comedy is funny but nothing further. It doesn't break new boundaries...it's just another comedy that'll be long forgotten and relegated to the $5 bargain bin at your local shops. But when we're talking about Hollywood movie studios, the executives just want a quick buck to raise their annual profits. Ordinary comedies are easy to make, cheap, and quality is never the concern. Genuine masterpieces of the comedy genre are close to non-existent. Only John Cleese of the Monty Python fame could've been capable of developing the perfect comedy...and he succeeds!

A Fish Called Wanda ticks all the boxes to pull it out of the "ordinary comedy" territory. The film isn't clichéd at all; characters are extraordinarily well-written, the film isn't predictable, and the structure is original. The script is peppered with dynamite dialogue, in-jokes and memorable lines (that I continually quote almost daily) as it moves from one hilarious, creative scenario to the one succeeding it. It even breaks new boundaries with its prize-winning combination of laughs and creativity. It's purely one of the most entertaining films of all time! Best of all, despite countless viewing it always seems fresh and never fails to entertain me. And I’m not alone in my sentiments. The film pulled in $60 million in the USA, making it the highest grossing British picture in America at that time. All these ingredients ensure that A Fish Called Wanda is anything but ordinary.

On the surface, it probably seems difficult to imagine this film being even considered funny. After all, this is a flick concerning diamond robbers double and triple crossing each other, not to mention it's also somewhat mean-spirited at times and cruel to animals. But by golly the package works! The result will bring tears of laughter to your eyes and side-splitting pains to your stomach as you roll all over the floor laughing uncontrollably.
A Fish Called Wanda is reminiscent of the days of Fawlty Towers and Monty Python. This is Cleese in his element: finding himself in awkward situations and having to worm his way out of them. If you're a fan of Fawlty Towers (or is it Flowery Twats or Flay Otters or Watery Fowls?), like I am, you'll have a good grasp of the laugh-out-loud comedy I'm referring to. Considering John Cleese's mostly awful recent work, it's terrific to revisit those winners he scored back in his glory days. Seriously, not many comedies get nominated for Oscars! Let alone a comedy of British origins up for Oscar noms, ultimately walking away with one win. If you want the short version, here it is: if you haven't yet seen A Fish Called Wanda then you're missing out and should immediately visit your local shop to secure a copy.

A Fish Called Wanda is a simple tail...erm, tale about betrayal, love, lust, greed and seafood. Wanda (Curtis) and Otto (Kline) are a duo of American thieves who visit Britain to pull off a diamond heist. They team up with George (Georgeson) and the animal-loving Ken (Palin) to commit an armed robbery, walking away with a loot worth $20 million US. Trouble is...Wanda and Otto are lovers posing as brother and sister who plan to double-cross their collaborators, taking off with the loot themselves. But it also seems George and Ken are mistrusting of Wanda and Otto (despite George and Wanda commencing a relationship, which Wanda faked of course). George double-crosses Wanda and Otto by secretly moving the loot before Wanda and Otto have the opportunity to finalise their double-crossing of George! Anyway, George is dobbed into the police and is arrested. When Wanda and Otto realise they'll need to figure out the new location of the loot, a somewhat complex plan to find it becomes necessitous. This involves Wanda inveigling her way into the life of jaded Etonian Archie Leach (Cleese), George's barrister. However...what begins as a simple spot of using somebody to further her own means becomes more complicated as Wanda's attraction to this somewhat repressed and cute ("in a pompous sort of way") barrister grows. Oh, and then there's Ken's little project to dispose of the only witness to their diamond heist. Utter anarchic hilarity ensues.

The plotline is fun to be sure, but it's the characters that are at the heart of the film. The central appeal is the characters' faults and peculiarities - George is your typical evil mastermind, Wanda will sleep with anybody if the occasion calls for it, Ken prefers animals to humans, and Archie is a snobbish and repressed Englishman hen-pecked by wife (Aitken) and daughter (Cynthia Cleese, who's John's real-life daughter). Then there's Otto. He's...well...Otto. Kevin Kline plays the malicious and cruel but incompetent Otto with such wild abandon.

John Cleese is in his element as writer and an actor for the film. In addition to conceiving such rich characterisations and providing a tradition Cleese-esque performance, he also sprinkles the film with the kind of devilish humour he's revered for. His character of Archie Leach is a variation of Basil Fawlty from his popular TV series. He's a stiff-upper-lipped English barrister not above a little avarice and hanky panky. Cleese said he chose the name Archie Leach because it's Cary Grant's real name, and this was about as close as he'd ever get to being Cary Grant in a film. However, the film doesn't rely solely on John Cleese for the laughs as the rest of the actors are total knockouts.

Kevin Kline won an Oscar for his eccentric performance as Otto: an ex-CIA operative who reads the philosophies of Nietzche to make him look smart. But in reality he's so stupid! ("Don't call me stupid") He thinks Aristotle was Belgian, the central message of Buddhism is every man for himself, and that the London underground is a political movement. When Wanda calls him an ape, Otto replies with "Apes don't read philosophy". "Yes, they do, Otto," Wanda then replies. "They just don't understand it."
Otto's character is so well-written that there's always something new to pick up on. Kline never strikes an incorrect note, and definitely deserved the Oscar he received.

Playing Wanda, Jamie Lee Curtis is an absolute delight. She's as smart as she is sexy. From the deadly serious Halloween to a light-hearted comedy...Jamie Lee Curtis demonstrates her talents as a versatile performer. She even does a fine job of making Wanda curiously nefarious but intriguingly beguiling at the same time - when she's not snogging everyone that moves, that is.

Then there's Michael Palin (from the golden days of Monty Python) as the hapless K-K-K-K-Ken. He spends most of his time stuttering hopelessly (this is absolutely side-splitting at times) or tending to his animals. Kevin Kline is given a batch of hilarious lines in relation to Ken's stutter: "Are you thinking, Ken? Or are you in mid-stutter?", "...those phoney accents! Not you Ken, you've got a beautiful speaking voice...when it works" and so on. In Ken's assignment to kill a witness before George's trial commences, he instead accidentally targets the old woman's dogs in gruesome ways. This is all the more ironic because Ken is such an animal lover who wouldn't hurt a fly. Seeing him at each funeral for the dogs is just hilarious.
For Tom Georgeson's character, Cleese decided to do a clever name switch...calling the character George Thomason.

Despite its runaway success, A Fish Called Wanda wasn't all good news from the start. It was helmed by a director who hadn't worked for 25 years, it featured a male actor on the wrong side of 40, and it also featured a sexy female with a great body who refused to do any nudity. But those that gave the film a chance walked away raving. It established a template for the future of British comedy exports. Even Richard Curtis was taking notes at this time. The film walked away with a basket of awards. In order to reach such perfection, the script went through 13 drafts. Director Charlie Crichton and John Cleese got together three times a month for two-and-a-half years to give the script touch-ups.

When production finally started, they managed to wrap up filming in a mere four weeks. Crichton's economic direction meant not a day was wasted. This also gave the film its glorious fast pace. Before you realise it, the film is over and you're howling for more. Thankfully, though, none of the gags have dated and they seem fresh even after constant viewings. The snappy dialogue, the subtle images...even John Cleese's striptease are wonderful no matter how many times you watch the film. And finally, the film was given its definitive touch in post-production: the music. John Du Prez's music is catchy and atmospheric, and you'll be humming the theme for weeks.

Mixing Python-esque humour with a sweet touch of rom-com, A Fish Called Wanda is the greatest hour for any former Python. Originally known as the working title of A Wish Called Fonda, Cleese then reworked his original ideas and the result was this masterpiece of cinematic comedy. It even has a universal appeal, with characters being featured of different nationalities. This film is totally faultless. It's a solid movie that holds up surprisingly well after a number of decades. If the words uproarious, hilarious, or side-splitting mean anything to you, this is your film for sure! It improves with each new screening as a matter of fact.
This film doesn't rely on swearing for its laughs, nor does it rely on overacting either. It relies on its clever script and an impeccable bunch of actors instead. The same crew tried again about a decade later with Fierce Creature. A good attempt, but it wasn't the same. A Fish Called Wanda is one of a kind...and that kind is very, very funny and just plain FUN! Fans of John Cleese or Kevin Kline will not be disappointed. Come on, how can you resist the prospect of seeing Michael Palin running over Kevin Kline with a steamroller after Kline eats Palin's tropic fish?!

Highly recommended!

"Wanda, do you have any idea what it's like being English? Being so correct all the time, being so stifled by this dread of, of doing the wrong thing, of saying to someone "Are you married?" and hearing "My wife left me this morning," or saying, uh, "Do you have children?" and being told they all burned to death on Wednesday. You see, Wanda, we'll all terrified of embarrassment. That's why we're so... dead. Most of my friends are dead, you know, we have these piles of corpses to dinner."

10/10

"It's always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don't really know what the truth is. I don't suppose anybody will ever really know. Nine of us now seem to feel that the defendant is innocent, but we're just gambling on probabilities - we may be wrong. We may be trying to let a guilty man go free, I don't know. Nobody really can. But we have a reasonable doubt, and that's something that's very valuable in our system. No jury can declare a man guilty unless it's SURE. We nine can't understand how you three are still so sure. Maybe you can tell us."

Based on a teleplay by Reginald Rose, 12 Angry Men marks Sidney Lumet's magnificent film debut. This masterpiece is a dynamic, intense, searing, spellbinding morality study and a brilliant portrayal of our justice system at work. 12 Angry Men was first released decades ago in 1957, yet this potent social microcosm still feels as relevant as ever.

On paper this straightforward courtroom drama probably wasn't much to get excited about - a single room setting (with little to no exceptions), a dozen old-timers arguing, and a first-time feature film director. But when preserved on the medium of film, 12 Angry Men is transformed into a consummate fermentation of acting prowess and dynamite direction. This is a movie that could stand as a screenwriting masterclass in the development of character and plot without resorting to big stunts, grandiose locations or special effects. From start to finish the film is just the story of twelve men on a hot, stuffy afternoon in a single room debating the guilt of a teenager on the wrong side of the tracks. The fact the film kept me riveted and entertained for its entire length is a gratifying testament to everyone involved. In an age dominated by summer blockbusters and teenagers merrily chatting about the latest action fest, 12 Angry Men serves a simple yet powerful reminder that a solid script, a good story and vividly-drawn characters are all that matter at the end of the day.

To the untrained eye, the plot of 12 Angry Men probably appears pretty straightforward and quite boring. Do not be fooled by the apparent simplicity of the plot. Instead of being single-note, it's a multi-faceted and deeply provocative examination of the flawed nature of the justice system. There are twelve main characters altogether (this is usually a recipe for cinematic suicide); however the complex story and dynamite dialogue allows an audience to get to know each and every main character in the picture. Even more amazingly, the characters are never given names (until the very end when two men introduce each other). As an audience member, you will never realise that the characters are nameless. The proceedings are so mesmerising to the point that character names don't even matter.

The central narrative of 12 Angry Men focuses on a jury's intimate deliberations on a capital murder case. The case concerns a teenage Latino accused in the stabbing murder of his father. The defence and prosecution have rested, leaving only the jury to contemplate the facts and reach a verdict. A guilty verdict means an automatic death sentence. To the inexpert eye, it seems like a straightforward open-and-shut case: the defendant has a weak alibi, the key body of evidence points to the defendant's guilt and eyewitnesses have come forward, claiming to have seen the murder taking place.

Rather than chronicling the happenings of the trial and the pomposity of the attorneys, the film commences as the jurors are being released into the deliberation room. This sole location is where the film will remain for almost its entire length. As the twelve-man jury file into the cramped jury room of a hot afternoon, the men seem willing to take the case at face value and lock in the "guilty" verdict. The men are more concerned with getting to a ball game on time, and aren't even prepared to spend five minutes discussing the matter. However, the guilty verdict can only be reached if all twelve men agree on it. During the initial vote, eleven vote "guilty" whereas one member of the jury (Fonda) opts for the "not guilty" verdict. After the customary disparaging "there's always one!" comments are elicited, this juror begins to defend his decision: the boy may be guilty of murder, and probably is, but there is a sufficient amount of reasonable doubt to consider the "not guilty" verdict as the more appropriate decision. The rest of the film follows the escalating apprehension in the room, and the conflict between the jurors as they endeavour to reconcile their divergent beliefs concerning the guilt of the defendant.

In this day and age, 12 Angry Men is a forgotten gem overlooked by the current generation of movie-goers who tend to view the latest action/adventure flick in lieu of the classics. This is also a film with a fairly unexciting premise. It's also fairly offputting to set an entire film in the confines of a single room! Only three minutes in the film's 96-minute running time transpire outside the jury room. Needless to say, it'd take a filmmaking team of remarkable skill to achieve the desired result. Director Sidney Lumet was up to the task. He managed to have this film in the can after only 21 days of shooting! The director employed a number of subtle cinematic techniques to enhance the claustrophobic atmosphere of the jury room. As the film progressed, the camera levels kept descending. At first moderately higher than eye level, the camera steadily moves downwards to below eye level. In addition, the initial stages of the movie were achieved using wide shots. The shots progressively move further inwards as the film draws closer to its enthralling conclusion. Different lenses were also applied to elevate the claustrophobia levels. This approach serves the film well. One can almost feel the heat of the non air-conditioned room and the intensifying emotions of the jurors.

"Well, I'm not used to supposin'. I'm just a workin' man. My boss does all the supposin' - but I'll try one. Supposin' you talk us all out of this and, uh, the kid really did knife his father?"

Lumet does a commendable job of building tension. The director also manages to deal effectively with the social issues (including racial bigotry) which arise in the course of the heated discussions in the jury room. Lumet accomplishes a dreadfully gruelling task here; by sticking to the format of the play and allowing almost all the events to transpire within one room, while still managing to keep things fresh and rattling along at a brisk pace.

The film's script explodes like twelve sticks of dynamite. Snappy dialogue and realistic human depictions are the highlights of the screenplay. It's also a multi-faceted tale, unfolding on various different levels. On the first level it's a mystery. The interplay between the jurors throws up several feasible scenarios for the crime. Although differing theories as well as inconsistencies in the official statement are raised, we're left to draw our own conclusions. On another level the film is a deep scrutinisation of human character as revealed by the actions of the twelve grouchy men in dealing with their dilemma. On top of this, 12 Angry Men is a study of the failings of the justice system which relies on imperfect human beings to determine its outcome. These small-minded humans are left to judge who should live and who should die. The film acts as a worthwhile reminder that our justice system is based upon the phrase "innocent until proven guilty" and that all have the right to a fair trial. The suitably idealistic message of 12 Angry Men is pure and simple, yet it offers so much more. We witness our own personalities as fragments in the twelve jurors, often times letting personal biases and impatience cloud our judgment.

One of the most stirring parts of the film is when the provocative question is asked: "What if it were you that were on trial?" If my life was in the balance I'd hope a juror like Henry Fonda would be sitting in the jury box. It's disturbing to contemplate the fact that so many men are willing to dismiss the case within five minutes because of other priorities on their mind. What about the poor boy whose life is in question? What if he isn't guilty and is consequently executed on false charges? It's easy to put oneself into the place of both defendant and juror, which demonstrates the potency of both the story and the performances.

Henry Fonda leads the cast as the juror who reminds us that we shouldn't be afraid to go against the herd. His character opposes the opinions of eleven others! The cast is a powerhouse. All twelve members of the cast (there are a few other minor cast members, but they aren't on screen for any more than a minute each) are impeccable. They bounce off each other's lines naturally and credibly. Each actor is brilliant and serves a purpose. The cast is a mosaic of the typical Average Joes compelled to do jury duty. There are the younger ones, the elderly ones, the impatient ones, the foreigner, the old crone, and the smart one. Just simply sit back and enjoy the scorching performances of Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, Ed Begley, E.G. Marshall, Jack Warden, Martin Balsam, John Fleder, Jack Klugman, Edward Binns, Joseph Sweeney, George Voskovec and Robert Webber.

"Nobody has to prove otherwise. The burden of proof is on the prosecution. The defendant doesn't even have to open his mouth. That's in the Constitution."

12 Angry Men has been classified as a "legal thriller". It's also known as a courtroom drama. Sidney Lumet's directorial debut is a sizzling courtroom drama done right: easy on the courtroom, heavy on the drama. Lumet went on to make such films as Dog Day Afternoon, Network and The Verdict. Not many of the world's greatest directors can boast a debut of this quality. Not even Alfred Hitchcock got it right the first time...neither did Steven Spielberg or George Lucas or Martin Scorsese. Even M. Night Shyamalan tried unsuccessfully before receiving critical acclaim with The Sixth Sense. 12 Angry Men is a lesson on the perfect film debut. No first-time director has ever done it better. 12 Angry Men is a masterpiece. It's an engrossing film that consumes you in its happenings. Filmed in less than a month on a measly budget, this shining example of efficiency has held up amazingly well for more than 50 years. I consider this an absolute must-see movie that's being overlooked far too often.

10/10

"Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again."

Bobby is a heartfelt, upbeat and ambitious attempt to remind audiences of the vision of harmony promulgated by Senator Robert F. Kennedy in the 1960s amid the divisiveness of the Vietnam War and racial issues. Emilio Estevez (that guy from The Breakfast Club) carried out the duties of a writer and a director for Bobby. Estevez's heart is in the right place: he aimed to make a patriotic and poignant tribute to RFK, and highlight the relevance of the issues of the 60s in contemporary society. In a very tactful way, Estevez shows that in the lives of the American people, even if things were seemingly crashing down around them with racial tension and the war in Vietnam, there was still hope. The heart of the film is the Robert F. Kennedy tragedy, but the arteries and veins feeding this heart are pure trite fiction. Estevez has lofty intentions with his film, but doesn't have the skill as a writer to do these intentions justice.

Those familiar with the RFK assassination are probably just as familiar with the assassination of President John F. Kennedy which occurred a few years beforehand. Logically enough, these two individuals were brothers. The Kennedy family have a nasty history with unnatural deaths, hence the eventual formation of the Kennedy family curse theory. In 1991, the Oliver Stone movie JFK was released. To me, Stone's movie is a masterpiece of the highest order. With a solid script and terrific actors, JFK was a movie that explored the multiple-year investigation into the 1963 assassination of President John F. Kennedy. It's a fascinating tale, and although the theories do seem somewhat preposterous one must admit that Stone makes a number of both shocking and interesting points. Bobby avoids taking this route. Instead of examining the death of RFK, it's a deeply fictionalised fare: a mosaic of fabricated characters that are present at Los Angeles' Ambassador Hotel on the fateful day. Estevez tosses together twenty-two protagonists (with their supporting storylines), and mixes the conjured events with footage of RFK campaigning against racism, America's poverty and unlawful McCarthy tactics.

The cast can only be described as star-studded. There are so many actors making brief cameos throughout the entire flick. Naturally, in Robert Altman style, the lives of a bunch of these characters interweave during the tragedy. If I was to mention each character, actor, and storyline then I'd be typing this review until the next ice age. Here's an assortment of actors who make appearance in the film: Emilio Estevez, Laurence Fishburne, Heather Graham, Anthony Hopkins, Freddy Rodriguez, Helen Hunt, Joshua Jackson, Ashton Kutcher, Shia LaBeouf, Lindsay Lohan, William H. Macy, Demi Moore, Sharon Stone, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Elijah Wood, Svetlana Metkina, Henry Belafonte and Christian Slater.

Needless to say, the film has too many characters and far too many stories to tell. As a result the drama falls flat. With so much going on in such a short duration it becomes nearly impossible to give a flip about any particular storyline. Furthermore, the characters never seem like individual and deep characters. They're all quite one-dimensional, and only a selected amount reaches the second dimension. The storylines are just ideas, not stories, being played out by symbols as opposed to characters. Vietnam, racial unrest, hallucinogens, the Prague Spring and several incarnations of the dissolution of the American family all crop up in these vignettes. As a result the film feels really vacuous and insipid. This premise should have been employed for an extensive mini-series that upped the ante more courageously. Like if a mini-series told the events in real time, or if the story of a different character is told during one episode. Screenwriter Estevez should've also done further research to perhaps find real characters to explore. As it is, these characters are 100% fictional and this is worn on the film's sleeve.

Unfortunately, as well, there aren't many interesting characters. Instead of casting every Hollywood actor in sight, Estevez's script should've focused on perhaps four or five characters. Twenty-two characters is just too exhausting and too daring. There's too much to absorb and this is an insufficient platform to absorb it from. Several stories are also quite appallingly written. The preachy ravings of Laurence Fishburne are a key example. When he begins spouting rubbish about King Arthur in the kitchen while canonising Freddy Rodriguez, the results are embarrassing. And Lindsay Lohan can't be taken seriously by any means. I've had enough of Lohan over the years. There's also Sharon Stone as a hairdresser for crying out loud!
There's also a serious lack of atmosphere in the way the Ambassador Hotel is depicted. There's no use of space to convey the stature of the hotel, which becomes integral to Anthony Hopkins' ramblings as a retired employee of the Ambassador.

Despite these flaws, the film's strengths pay off in spades. The soundtrack is truly stunning. Stirring and poignant original music is mixed with songs of the 60s. These songs achieve their desired effect.
Bobby also skilfully breaks for lighter moments of comic relief with a hysterical sub-plot about two aides who ditch their duties to "get closer to God" with some LSD purchased from a hippie played by Ashton Kutcher. Surprisingly, Kutcher fails at his usual game of ruining a movie by overdoing it. The director should be commended for this fact alone. Some may feel that the drug interlude doesn't fit in among the drama, but drugs were an essential part of the 60s and this comic relief heightens the film's entertainment value. There's almost nothing funnier than seeing two stoners trying to play tennis.
The editing is also marvellous. Throughout the film there's archive footage that's expertly mixed with the footage Estevez directed. Especially towards the ending when RFK arrives at the hotel. Estevez opts to never show an actor portraying RFK. As an alternative there's archive footage and ingeniously framed shots to give the impression that RFK is addressing the crowd. This is a great creative decision of Estevez's.

It's also worth pointing out that Estevez is quite talented behind the camera. There are a number of riveting moments thanks to his directing. For the final 25 minutes, the film never treads a foot wrong. There's ample momentum to fuel the proceedings. There are a number of particularly excellent montages as well. Simon and Garfunkel's The Sound of Silence is played during a montage showing clips of Robert F. Kennedy's life. The film is almost entirely redeemed in its final moments by placing one of RFK's most moving speeches against the tragic aftermath of his assassination. It is a magnificent scene - a searing, expressive condemnation of American violence that is accompanied by a stirring speech Kennedy delivered following the death of Martin Luther King. It's a very powerful ending, encapsulating the lost ideals and devastated dreams that emerged from the social tumult of the 60s. The touching music also plays a crucial role here. This ending will leave you glued to your seat even after the credits being to roll.

6.0/10

"A boy's best friend is his mother."
It's impossible to discuss the narrative and storytelling brilliance of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho without divulging spoilers. The movie's twists and secrets are almost common knowledge over five decades after its release, but fair warning all the same. If you have not seen Psycho and are oblivious to its surprises, stop reading this review right now and watch the movie. It is a masterpiece, and that's all you need to know.
Released in 1960, Psycho has become synonymous with the late great Alfred Hitchcock, standing proudly alongside the likes of Rear Window, North By Northwest and Vertigo. An adaptation of Robert Bloch's 1959 novel of the same name, Psycho was actually an attempt by Hitchcock to reinvent himself at the time and try something different. A trend had broken out in Hollywood during the 1950s, with low-risk, low-budget horrors crowding theatres and effortlessly generating a large profit. However, said movies were not often particularly good, and Hitchcock was eager to see what would happen if somebody talented helmed a comparable production. Despite being able to command lavish budgets, Hitchcock wanted to create a horror movie on the cheap with the crew of his television show Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and was even compelled to go outside the studio system to fund the movie himself. It's a gamble that paid off, and the film still holds up today. Indeed, Psycho is not just groundbreaking, influential and oft-imitated - it's also a highly engaging, albeit disturbing horror movie.


A clerk in a real estate office earning an average wage, Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) is engaged in a romantic relationship with Sam Loomis (John Gavin), but they cannot get married because of Sam's debts. When Marion's boss closes a lucrative real estate deal, Marion is entrusted to deposit $40,000 in cash into the bank, but the large sum of money is simply too tempting. Seeing a way out of her situation, she impulsively decides to keep it and sets off to visit Sam, but a powerful storm one night compels Marion to seek accommodation. Happening across the eerily quiet Bates Motel, which has "12 cabins, 12 vacancies," Marion meets owner Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a shy but well-meaning young man who's excited by the prospect of a female visitor. However, Norman's jealous mother, who lives in a creepy old house overlooking the establishment, does not take kindly to Norman's attraction to Marion...
Many factors can be attributed to the success of Psycho, but the creative marketing campaign most certainly helped. Indeed, Hitchcock's name alone was enough to sell plenty of tickets, but the maestro took it one step further. Cinema staff were not permitted to let patrons enter a screening after the movie had started, and advertisements encouraged audiences not to spoil any of the twists, on top of the fact that Hitchcock purchased every copy of Bloch's novel he could find to limit the book's availability and thus keep the story's secrets under wraps. The virtuoso filmmaker truly wanted audiences to see the film with fresh, unaware eyes, which gave Psycho the power to shock, terrify and amaze in a way that's nearly impossible to accomplish in this age of internet gossip and spoilers. Even though the movie was almost unanimously panned by critics at the time of its initial release, hundreds of people queued up outside cinemas for hours, and Hitchcock's masterpiece fast became a nationwide phenomenon, grossing an estimated $32 million in America alone against its meagre $800,000 production budget. (Adjusted for inflation, Psycho's gross is equal to approximately $350 million in 2015.)


Despite being one of the motion pictures most associated with Hitchcock, Psycho is something of an anomaly for the filmmaker, as it's removed from the low-key mysteries, elegant romances and grand-scale espionage thrillers that constitute the majority of his filmography. And that was, of course, Hitchcock's intention. What's particularly ingenious about Psycho is its narrative edifice, with Hitchcock and screenwriter Joseph Stefano creating a horror that defies expectations with utter glee. The shocking final revelation has lost none of its power, but it's also the repercussions of the iconic shower scene that stunned audiences back in 1960. Hitchcock deliberately lulls you into thinking that an entirely different story will unfold, only to pull the rug out from underneath you with the early exit of Marion Crane and the sudden shift in narrative focus. It's all pulled off so eloquently by Hitchcock, who favours twists over out-and-out violence. 
Despite the advancing popularity of colour film, Hitchcock deliberately chose to lens Psycho in black and white, feeling that the movie would simply be too gory in colour. The monochrome photography is a masterstroke, enhancing the movie's shocking impact and sense of horror. But it's the sense of atmosphere which really makes Psycho unforgettable, with John L. Russell's eye-catching cinematography making superlative use of shadows, creating unease during scenes set at the ominous Bates Motel. Furthermore, Hitchcock was something of a cinematic magician, with violence being implied rather than simply shown, using trick shots and montage. Especially during the shower scene, you believe you've witnessed more than what's actually on the screen - the knife is never actually seen penetrating skin, with creative angles, expert editing and realistic sound design prompting our minds to fill in the blanks. It's simply superb craftsmanship, turning the scene into a cinematic masterclass that continues to be studied. But Psycho would not be as memorable as it is without Bernard Herrmann's riveting original music. The screaming strings still send a chill down the spine, with the film's intensity and horror confidently amplified by the accompanying soundtrack.


Say what you will about Psycho's content in this day and age, but audiences back in 1960 were not prepared for such a disturbing motion picture. Even in 2015, the movie has bite, which is all the more impressive considering the restrictions of the period. Psycho was released before films were actually rated; in 1960, motion pictures simply had to be approved for release. Hitchcock was therefore treading on eggshells, pushing the censorship envelope to see exactly how much he could get away with as he dabbled in cinematic taboos. On top of the obvious violence, Psycho also features a toilet being flushed, denoting the first time in cinematic history that a toilet was visible in a motion picture. Furthermore, the film shows unmarried people engaging in a sexual affair, as well as voyeurism, schizophrenia and transvestism, not to mention Marion is a thief, and Janet Leigh is glimpsed in her underwear on more than one occasion. Psycho really was a breakthrough at the time.
Leigh earned an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of Marion Crane, which was well deserved, but Perkins was inexplicably overlooked by the Academy. Bates is one of the greatest all-time horror icons, and Perkins' portrayal is note-perfect. In Bloch's novel, Bates was a bald, middle-aged fat man, but Stefano felt that such a character would be hard to sympathise with, choosing to write the role for a younger performer. Perkins nails it, exhibiting plenty of boyish charm and coming across as hugely sympathetic. You feel sorry for Norman, who's the furthest thing from a vindictive horror villain imaginable, and it's impossible to imagine anybody else embodying the role as skilfully as the late Perkins. The remainder of the actors hit their marks respectably, with the likes of John Gavin, Vera Miles and Martin Balsam making a good impression in their respective roles, but Psycho is Perkins' show.


It took a lot of effort in post-production to truly bring Psycho to life, with Hitchcock's beloved wife Alma (a former editor) reportedly assisting in the cutting process. Even though some have complained about an extensive psychiatric explanation in the final scene, I personally have no issue with it, especially with the haunting note that the movie closes on. Slasher flicks released since Psycho may be gorier and more graphic, but Hitchcock's film remains untouchable precisely because of what the master director was able to accomplish in a stricter era of film censorship. In 2015, the movie succeeds thanks to its fine performances, nuanced characters, brilliant narrative and superlative technical presentation. It is a must-see.
10/10

The sleaze-filled saga of an exploitation double feature.

Robert Rodriguez's and Quentin Tarantino's Grindhouse is a crazily funny, campy, exciting tribute to the grimy glory days of 1970s exploitation cinema. The concept is simply a stroke of pure genius - merge two intentionally shitty 1970s-style horror B-movies into one double feature, and then add a reel of hysterical fake trailers for added authenticity.

In the 70s, the local "grindhouse" was the place one headed to see flicks you couldn't see anywhere else. Most of the time this was because they were so awful no-one else wanted to play them. It was also because they existed on the border of respectable society as they showcased overzealous violence, sex, explicit nudity, as well as berserk experimental ideas and themes. With Grindhouse, Rodriguez and Tarantino endeavour to capture the essence of that experience and resurrect it in one great event with two movies (one from each director) played back to back. This is an event, not just a movie, so Grindhouse comes complete with suitably over-the-top fake trailers and cheesy old-fashioned bumpers prior to each film.

In order to get the thorough sleaze effect, Grindhouse emulates the look of a 1970's double feature. In post-production the filmmakers opted to manually age the film: there are deliberate scratches, muted colours and imperfections all throughout the two films and the fake trailers. In fact there are also a few occasions when a "MISSING REEL" card flashes on the screen briefly, and the story jumps ahead. Trust me, it's great stuff! The result is a delightfully faithful recreation of 1970s exploitation movies. Those who experienced the real grindhouse era have testified to the film's faithfulness (this became apparent after reading online reviews and IMDb user comments). The fact that this peculiar concept is able to successfully engage a 21st century audience is due to the uncanny ability of Tarantino and Rodriguez in figuring out what moviegoers don't know they're dying to see.

Grindhouse commences with a fake trailer to get the ball rolling. Machete is the film the trailer is advertising, and it's the perfect way to begin the film. It's simply hysterical: a priest wielding a shotgun, extreme violence, and badass lines such as "They fucked with the wrong Mexican!" are among the inclusions.

This terrifically atmospheric trailer is followed by Robert Rodriguez's feature film contribution: Planet Terror. Rodriguez was born to be a grindhouse director. Planet Terror explodes onto the screen with little respite. It slathers on layer after layer of absurdity, action, repulsive gore and manic wit. When the film reaches the point where movies usually pause to allow a breather, Rodriguez fakes a missing reel in order to skip over the boring parts and get right back down to business: zombies getting shot to bits in explosions of exaggerated blood, and shit getting blown up.
There's no need for a solid plot at all, so Rodriguez simply employs the weak premise of a military chemical experiment going wrong, causing an outbreak of some B-movie zombie virus. Oh, and there's a bunch of survivors who shoot as many zombies as possible. And then there's the lovely Rose McGowan. Her leg is eaten by zombies, so the leg stump is fitted with a machine gun.

Planet Terror is loads of fun. It's the feature highlight of the three-hour experience. This is the flick that represents the outrageous spirit of the B-movie. It's an action-packed, extremely gory zombie flick that moves at lightning pace. Nothing fancy to find here...just a whole lot of blood and guts to keep the fans happy.

Following this, we're treated to three additional faux trailers: a trailer by Rob Zombie for the ridiculously action-packed Werewolf Women of the SS (featuring a cameo by a famous actor who never seems ashamed to be wacky), a trailer by Edgar Wright (the guy who did Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Both Nick Frost and Simon Pegg appear in this trailer) for a standard horror fare entitled Don't, and finally there's an Eli Roth splatterfest slapped with the title of Thanksgiving. There are typical restaurant adverts thrown in for good measure, and some titles to mark what we're up to ("Our Feature Presentation", etc).

Finally the second half of Grindhouse is revealed: Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. Personally, I prefer Rodriguez' Planet Terror. Tarantino's half unfortunately spoils the experience. It's talkie, repetitive, and self-indulgent. The essence of campy B-movie horror isn't captured adequately here. There are some payoffs (a number of awesome car crashes are included), but the wait getting there really tested my patience. After merrily bathing in Rodriguez' violent guilty pleasure of Planet Terror and having a great time watching heads explode in all their gruesome glory, Tarantino's dialogue-heavy Death Proof is like being rudely awoken by means of a bucket of icy cold water being thrown onto your face. Dialogue is Tarantino's greatest strength. In this case, it's also his greatest weakness. It's his weakness because he loves to hear lots of banter...every time a character speaks gives him yet another chance to reference a movie or a TV show, or vaguely reference pop culture, or it merely gives him the opportunity to have a character babble on about nothing. Some may call this characterisation. On the other hand, I call it filler. Tarantino's gift of gab isn't as effective with women. These women are developed so thoroughly, but they're boring characters and the dialogue leads no-where. There's so much empty space that one could visit the toilet for 20 minutes and not miss anything essential.

Tarantino's film is decent at best. The long car chase at the end is pretty good, and there's a great car crash in the middle, but it's just boring and drawn-out compared to Rodriguez's frenetically paced Planet Terror. I howled with laughter at the exaggerated gore during Rodriguez's segment, but there are scarce jokes or amusing moments to find in Death Proof. There are also too many sub-plots that go no-where. Like one character texting her boyfriend. And the point of that was...?

For once, I think Tarantino missed the point. Grindhouse as a whole could have been far more effective had Tarantino developed something more exhilarating or something better suited to a grindhouse atmosphere.

It's impossible to write a review of Grindhouse without mentioning the controversy surrounding the film. Upon initial release in the early months of 2007, Grindhouse opened to an unfortunate reception. Critics certainly enjoyed the experience, as did a majority of audience members...however there were a number of people who just didn't "get it". After Planet Terror concluded they left the cinema thinking it was over. The film's distributors therefore became somewhat concerned. Adding to this, foreign audiences never would have experienced the grindhouse era and wouldn't understand the gimmick. Thus the decision was made to split Grindhouse - individually screening Planet Terror and Death Proof as separate movies without the fake trailers. Naturally, audiences were outraged. Personally, I had looked forward to seeing the double feature and was devastated as the film was split before reaching Australian shores. Thus I boycotted the individual films, waiting for an opportunity to witness the entire experience in its three-hour glory. Now that I've finally seen Grindhouse in its entirety, I can recommend you do the same. The magic of Grindhouse is in the experience instead of the individual movies. Planet Terror without Death Proof (or visa versa) is like pizza without cheese - they complete each other. Grindhouse needs to be experienced in its theatrical glory, and I implore you to see it given the opportunity.

As a whole experience, Grindhouse ranks a solid 4.5/5. Taking all the factors into consideration, the score is only let down by Tarantino's predominantly boring movie. Planet Terror earns a solid five stars (in the context of the movie), with the four faux trailers also earning five stars apiece (again, only in the context of the movie), and Death Proof earning a disappointing three stars. Thus this average is roughly 4.5/5. (In a mathematical brain it averages to 4.67...but seriously, fuck that!) Maybe the flaw isn't just with Death Proof, but with the order in which these two films are screened. There's so much happening in Planet Terror (so much in every single moment of the film) and it's so explosive and action-packed that it's an impossible act to follow, let alone with a dialogue-heavy, action-late flick like Death Proof. If shown first, Death Proof could have been the ideal ramp up to the truly out of control experience Rodriguez delivers. Ultimately though, the hiccups in Death Proof are a minor problem as everything else is so perfect, thus Grindhouse works as intended. I wanted B-movie thrills, and I got 'em. With its missing reels, warped look, changes in tone, colour variations, exaggerated violence (the gunshot wounds in Planet Terror are hysterical) and some deliberately horrible acting at times, Grindhouse does its job of making those who can remember spending hot summer nights at drive-ins or real grindhouses (only occasionally paying attention to what was on the screen as they were usually too busy making out with partners, eating food, etc) nostalgic for those long-gone days of horribly bad fun films. The best part is that for the batch of contemporary movie-goers that haven't a clue about double features or the old cheap campy horror movies of the 70s, Grindhouse provides a genuine look at what they missed out on. It's a very long movie at 191 minutes, but there is a lot of fun to be had.

If by some miracle you can get a copy of this theatrical version, then I suggest you take the opportunity without delay. It provides thrills and laughs, it provides an atmospheric experience, and it puts the 'bad' back in 'badass'. Even with Tarantino's slow-paced Death Proof, the whole movie is so much bloody fun. Until such time as the distributors get the good sense to release this theatrical cut on DVD, I suggest you boycott the individual versions.

9.0/10

"Young men make wars, and the virtues of war are the virtues of young men: courage, and hope for the future. Then old men make the peace, and the vices of peace are the vices of old men: mistrust and caution."

It has been decades since Lawrence of Arabia first astonished the world when it hit cinemas back in 1962. In the years succeeding the film's release, it has become one of the highest regarded movies in cinematic history. Lawrence of Arabia has been bestowed with endless accolades, awards and tributes. Reviewers worldwide to this day still continually express their perpetual love and admiration for this passionate historical epic. Frankly, this reviewer feels fairly overwhelmed as everything that can be said about the movie has probably already been said. I'm most likely forty years too late to be offering my 2 cents on the movie. However, life as a microscopic sperm back then made it kinda difficult to both watch a movie and review it (I doubt I even existed as a sperm back then anyway). Therefore, as a reviewer in the year 2008, I still feel a sense of duty to express my opinions on this magnificent epic (even if these views have already been voiced billions of times before).

The scope and scale of Lawrence of Arabia is enough to astound its audience even in the 21st century. David Lean was at the helm after all. Beforehand Lean had directed such films as Bridge on the River Kwai and Summertime with many more great titles to follow. David Lean led such an exquisite and remarkable directorial career that even a modern-day director would have difficult matching it. There have been very few filmmakers capable of boasting the meticulous attention to detail, character and story that director Lean brought to the table. At the end of the day, this is exactly the reason why his films will remain cherished for a long time to come - and why great directors such as Steven Spielberg turn to these films for inspiration today.

The enduring appeal of Lawrence of Arabia is a combination of the exhilarating, exotic sense of adventure and an intensely personal, intimate human story. It's a majestic four-hour epic that still dwarfs contemporary epics. As the film was made in such a primitive CGI period, the filmmakers used the 'what you see is what you get' method - therefore hundreds of extras fill the screen, and all the action is done without the aid of digital imagery. As a result, the film will never grow outdated.

"So long as the Arabs fight tribe against tribe, so long will they be a little people, a silly people - greedy, barbarous, and cruel, as you are."

This mythic blockbuster is both a spectacular epic and a sensitive portrait of one of the most enigmatic legends of the 20th century - "poet, scholar, warrior, exhibitionist" T.E. Lawrence (O'Toole). The film opens with Lawrence's tragic death in the 1930s. From there it eschews a detailed account of Lawrence's life in order to instead tell the story of his defining moment in history...his role in the Arabian Desert revolt of 1916-18 - as exaggerated by the real T.E. Lawrence in his book Seven Pillars of Wisdom, which was adapted for the screen by Robert Bolt and (the uncredited) Michael Wilson.
According to the story, Lawrence helped the divided Arab tribes to unite against the Turkish Empire during the later years of the Great War (a.k.a. World War I). Lawrence's hit-and-run guerrilla warfare tactics won him triumphs in the desert no-one thought possible. Through a series of audacious conquests he earned the trust, respect, and loyalty of the Arab peoples. He became a hero to the world, even though this almost drove him mad.

At a personal level, the leading characters are intriguing and unpredictable, worthy and fearsome. None of these protagonists are one-dimensional caricatures. There are so many interesting and fully-developed characters that are so brilliantly portrayed by a top-notch cast. The themes of myths, tribal antipathy, nationalities, war, alliances, promises, leadership, corruptibility, savagery, affection, arrogance, pride, delusion, audacity and pomp are admirably tackled and handled.

This is a beautiful and mesmerising film, making full use of the expansive vistas in its original 70mm format (one of the last films in history to do so). Production on location was an absolute nightmare for everyone involved. Extensive preparation was followed by fourteen arduous months of location shooting. Filming took longer than it took for the real Lawrence to fulfil his quest, interestingly. The film won an Oscar for Cinematography, and there is little wonder why. There is magnificent cinematography to behold throughout the entire movie. The battles are particularly well done. They may appear tame by today's standards, but they are still visceral.

The raw film was then given to editor Anne Coates who proceeded to construct the masterwork. The iconic scene of Peter O'Toole blowing out the match before the sharp cut straight to the desert sunrise is a moment brought to the film thanks to the marvellous editing. This film is full of such fantastic moments. Maurice Jarre was then brought onboard to compose the music. Maurice put together a truly memorable score. Editing and scoring may seem like little things by themselves, but when amalgamated in the final finished product the result is a masterpiece.

A great script was vital for the success of this film, which runs almost four hours. There are fascinating script lines delivered frequently by a more-than-capable cast. But it has to be said...at times the film seriously lacks momentum. There are sporadic instances when the film is infused with momentum and great energy, but these are followed by scenes that are more low-key and occasionally a tad self-indulgent (like the sometimes tiresome images of the desert...they're beautiful but excessive). This film is four hours long, though, so I don't think anyone expected to be riveted for every second of the film's duration. But, as a consequence, Lawrence of Arabia isn't as perfect as it's made out to be.

"A man who tells lies, like me, merely hides the truth. But a man who tells half-lies has forgotten where he put it."

Over the years there have been several different versions of the film. The theatrical cut which was completed soon before the premiere was about 220 minutes long. This was a very long film by any standard - and one theatre owners bitterly complained about as it restricted the number of sessions per day. David Lean, Sam Spiegel (the producer) and Anne Coates got together and hacked off 20 minutes for a revised theatrical cut. Television reared its ugly head years later. Aside from creating a Panned & Scanned abomination, a further 15 minutes were cut from the film. Finally in 1989 the restored version of the film was released. This arduous restoration effort went ahead with financial assistance from Steven Spielberg. This version restored much of the missing footage that had been found in an archive. However, whilst they had the film negative in hand, the soundtrack was missing. David Lean and Anne Coates undertook re-recordings of the dialogue, bringing all the cast involved back into the studio one last time. The restored version is how we're supposed to see the movie, and it's a beautiful effort by everyone involved.

"Nothing is written."

Like I stated before, not much can be said about Lawrence of Arabia that hasn't already been said countless times before by critics and viewers. But this film deserves the praise it has received. Lawrence of Arabia is, for lack of a more original word, a masterpiece. This is one of cinema's most highly regarded classics, forever occupying an impressive position on the AFI 100, the IMDb Top 250, and several other lists. Additionally, it won seven Academy Awards including Best Picture and Best Director. Peter O'Toole was nominated for Best Actor, but lost to Gregory Peck for To Kill A Mockingbird.
Sorry to sound like every other critics worldwide, but if you haven't yet seen Lawrence of Arabia then you're missing out on the most essential screen epic in history.

"The truth is: I'm an ordinary man. You might've told me that, Dryden."

8.6/10

Saving Private Ryan is the quintessential World War II movie, a landmark war film that single-handedly contemporised the genre for a new generation of audiences and continues to influence filmmakers over twenty years later. Instead of another sanitised or sentimentalised war picture about honour and glory in the Old Hollywood mould, Saving Private Ryan is a brutally honest depiction of WWII that portrays courage and fear in the face of extreme terror. In addition, director Steven Spielberg (Schindler's List) disposes of the all-in-good-fun tone of classic war flicks like Kelly's Heroes and The Great Escape, avoiding another Hollywoodised depiction of the Second World War to create something more true-to-life. Although Spielberg is renowned for his fun blockbusters (Jaws, Jurassic Park) and pulpy action-adventures (Indiana Jones), Saving Private Ryan is a darker movie that shows the director's mature side, verifying his ability to create more than just lightweight entertainment. Saving Private Ryan is not necessarily enjoyable, but it is tremendously compelling and never feels like dull homework.

In the days following the D-Day landings in Normandy, France, on June 6, 1944, the United States Department of War realises that three brothers from the same family were killed in action. A fourth brother, James Francis Ryan (Matt Damon), parachuted into Normandy with the 101st Airborne Division and is missing behind enemy lines. The tragedy draws the attention of General George C. Marshall (Harve Presnell), the Chief of Staff of the United States Army, who orders Ryan to be found and brought home immediately to spare his mother the pain of losing all her sons. Officers in Normandy allocate the mission to Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks), who survived the assault on Omaha Beach with his second-in-command, Sergeant Mike Horvath (Tom Sizemore). Captain Miller and Sergeant Horvath gather a squad of soldiers to complete the assignment, including combat medic Irwin Wade (Giovanni Ribisi), religious sniper Daniel Jackson (Barry Pepper), the rebellious Richard Reiben (Edward Burns), Jewish trooper Stanley Mellish (Adam Goldberg), the compassionate Adrian Caparzo (Vin Diesel), and inexperienced interpreter Timothy Upham (Jeremy Davies). The expedition into Nazi-occupied territory is fraught with danger as they encounter German forces at every turn, and the men begin to question why they are risking their lives to save one man.

Similar to films like The Dirty Dozen and Kelly's Heroes, Saving Private Ryan is an old-fashioned "men on a mission" tale that tells a fictitious story within a historical context. Although the Ryan brothers did not exist, screenwriter Robert Rodat (Fly Away Home) was inspired by books and historical accounts of multiple soldiers in a single family, including the Sullivan brothers (all five of whom were killed in action) and the Niland brothers (whose story primarily inspired the film). With Spielberg committed to utmost authenticity and striving for the best possible movie, Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption) and Scott Frank (Dead Again) performed uncredited rewrites on Rodat's script based on the testimonials of surviving veterans. The result earned the film an Academy Award nomination for Best Screenplay. Historian Stephen E. Ambrose, who wrote a book about the Niland brothers, also served as the production's historical consultant and pushed for combat accuracy, including the suffering of soldiers who slowly died in mud and water while desperately calling out for morphine and their mothers. Even the best historical movies can feel like homework, including Spielberg's own Schindler's List, but Saving Private Ryan easily maintains interest with its exhilarating battle sequences.

The philosophical themes of Saving Private Ryan concern the value of a single human life. The eight-man squad suffers casualties as they work to track down Ryan behind enemy lines, but is he worth it? Are some lives more important than others? Is it worth saving Ryan for his mother's sake, even though the other men also have families? What if Ryan is already dead, and the mission is for nothing? The soldiers' loyalties blur as they question the necessity of the mission, which several of them believe is "FUBER." Even top-ranking military officers in the War Department question General Marshall about the mission, while some of Captain Miller's men believe the operation is a gross misallocation of military resources. Spielberg frames Saving Private Ryan's story around an elderly veteran visiting the Normandy Cemetery with his family, and the imagery of the endless rows of graves combined with the emotional impact of the man breaking down and crying amplifies the story's humanity. It underscores the intense mental and emotional scars that veterans carry for decades after war, and the final scene of the veteran speaking to his fallen friend's grave contributes to the story's thematic and philosophical undercurrents.

Each member of Miller's squad is unique and identifiable, making it easy to feel connected to the soldiers because they carry distinct personalities and traits - for example, Jackson prays while lining up each shot, Horvath collects dirt from each country he visits, and so on. As a result, each death feels more acutely devastating. The simple but effective characterisations also break another longstanding cliché from classic war films to allow for heightened realism, as Spielberg reminds us that everyday people fought in wars instead of larger-than-life men of action. The casting is another considerable strength, with Tom Hanks (who earned an Oscar nomination for his performance) showing more of his incredible dramatic range here, while a young Matt Damon makes a terrific impression as Private Ryan. With the actors going through boot camp to help prepare for shooting, they believably carry themselves, from their fire and movement tactics to handling weapons and equipment. Spielberg also let the cast improvise, leading to authentic moments of character interaction that feel raw and real, such as Ryan telling Miller about the last time his brothers were together before leaving for basic training. Additionally, Spielberg recruited several terrific performers to fill the supporting cast, from Paul Giamatti and Ted Danson as experienced soldiers to Bryan Cranston as a War Department staff officer and a young Nathan Fillion as another James Ryan.

Saving Private Ryan redefined the war genre with its aesthetic choices that remain influential, from its grainy, handheld cinematography and desaturated colour palette to the graphic violence and layered sound design that puts you in the thick of battle. Although Spielberg uses minor CGI to enhance the visuals, the director was committed to practical effects, relying on intricate sets, location shooting, blood squibs, stunts, fire, and explosions, making the film feel tactile and real. Thousands of extras took part in the production, including reserve and full-time members of the Irish Army (like Mel Gibson's Braveheart), which heightens the sense of scope and realism. The painstaking attention to period detail is also astonishing, with accurate costumes and weaponry, while the thorough recreation of Omaha Beach, complete with the overcast skies and dense smoke, bursts with authenticity. Additionally, Janusz Kamiński's meticulous handheld cinematography further contributes to the illusion. Shooting with various lenses, removing the protective coating for a flatter image, and keeping the camera at eye level without any sweeping crane shots, the film resembles the work of combat cameramen during WWII.

Violence in war films had started to progress since the sanitised era of classical old Hollywood movies, with productions like Hamburger Hill, The Big Red One, and Stalingrad packing an R-rated punch. However, the visceral impact of Saving Private Ryan is next level, portraying the gory realities of war in an uncompromising yet tasteful and palatable way, prompting veterans to applaud Spielberg for his efforts. Spielberg does not shy away from the gory details of war, using blood squibs and graphic prosthetics to depict the impact of bullets and explosions on the human body. Spielberg hits the ground running with a gripping set piece that vividly depicts the D-Day Omaha Beach landings in 1944. Chaos reigns as bullets whiz through the air, artillery shells ferociously explode in the sand, soldiers drown while trying to escape the machine guns, and nobody is safe, regardless of rank. However, the battle does not amount to an incoherent string of carnage - the American soldiers use tactics and strategy to advance up the beach, leading to their extremely costly victory. The Omaha Beach sequence is nearly half an hour long and is still one of the most enthralling, intense and devastating filmic portrayals of combat in history. Likewise, the climactic battle in the ruins of a French village is gripping and memorable.

Spielberg recruited frequent collaborator John Williams to oversee the music, and the resulting score significantly adds to the picture's poignant impact and power, earning the composer a well-deserved Oscar nomination. (Williams lost to composer Nicola Piovani for the Holocaust film Life Is Beautiful.) Wisely, Williams's music does not accompany the combat sequences as Spielberg lets the battles speak for themselves, relying on the soundscape of bullets and explosions instead of music. Spielberg believes music reminds audiences that they are watching a movie, which breaks the sense of immersion. The sound design and editing earned the picture additional Oscar gold, and for good reason, since the immersive, meticulous soundscape authentically recreates the aural experience of being in war, including the distant sounds of gunfire, explosions, and approaching tanks. The masterful, painstaking staging and technical execution of Saving Private Ryan deservedly earned Spielberg an Academy Award for Best Director.

Saving Private Ryan is a rare, once-in-a-generation masterpiece that redefines the possibilities of the war genre, leading to countless imitators that replicate the aesthetic to mixed results. The picture clocks in at a beefy 169 minutes, yet it carries a gripping storytelling economy thanks to the Oscar-winning editing by Spielberg's long-time collaborator, Michael Kahn. Spielberg covers a lot of ground (literally and metaphorically) during the film, incorporating vicious battles and subdued moments of character interaction, but nothing feels inessential; if anything, there is room for more. (A deleted action sequence showed how the squad lost their jeep at the start of the mission, but the excised scene remains unseen as of 2025.) Saving Private Ryan also paved the way for more big-budget WWII productions, with Spielberg and Hanks even producing three acclaimed television miniseries: Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air. Controversially, Shakespeare in Love beat out Saving Private Ryan for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. This decision only grows more baffling with each passing year as Spielberg's film remains at the forefront of pop culture consciousness while the Oscar-winning period love story has been relegated to relative obscurity.

10/10

"I'm Edgar Frog, surfboard shaper and vampire hunter."

In the popular Hollywood guide to making a quick buck, the word "sequel" is one that ranks quite highly in the lexicon. Methinks it was Disney that shamelessly introduced the breed of direct-to-DVD sequels with ludicrous follow-ups to The Lion King and Aladdin that continued to assault the shelves of DVD retailers. Before long the DTD breed expanded to the live-action arena. Victims of this trend included: Bring It On (the first film was already a tragedy, though), American Pie, Starship Troopers, and even The Scorpion King (funny thing is...the DTD sequel surpassed the original). The much-awaited, much-delayed and much-rumoured sequel to Joel Schumacher's 1987 hit The Lost Boys was next to join the ranks of the aforementioned direct-to-DVD realm. The sequel was in development hell for 21 years. (The much-anticipated and delayed fourth Indiana Jones adventure was only in development hell for 19 years!)

Schumacher's The Lost Boys has risen to cult status over the years with many dedicated fans still enjoying the nostalgia of the romp. This original film (despite being dated and featuring frightening haircuts) was fun and entertaining. Rumours of a sequel circulated for decades. Apparently one of these proposed productions was tentatively entitled The Lost Girls. While that concept had a stake driven through its heart before getting the chance to crawl out of its coffin, the dream at long last became a reality with 2008's Lost Boys: The Tribe. Unfortunately, sometimes it really isn't a good idea to reawaken sleeping monsters from their slumber.

Even after 21 long years of development, Lost Boys: The Tribe is a pale and lifeless imitation of its former self. The loyal fans of Schumacher's The Lost Boys wanted to experience a fun and enjoyable continuation of the saga, yet this sequel ended up being a fundamental remake that reinvented the legacy for a more modern audience. Lost Boys: The Tribe strived to pay homage to the original film with repeated lines, repeated scenes and a small amount of returning characters. But the film fails on almost every level. Instead of a fun vampire romp with a few amusing one-liners and a slight touch of comedy, (I must admit the original Lost Boys wasn't as funny as people made it out to be, but it was worth a chortle or two) this sequel is darker in tone and without any charms. The young teen actors are replaced with actors over 20 trying to pass off as teens (a 17-year-old character is played by an actress who's 28). One of my criticisms of the first film was the lack of a darker tone, as well as the presence of annoying young teens. Therefore the sequel fixing these criticisms could have been a good move...but this sequel is just too damn ludicrous, too vulgar and too bloody sleazy! This is merely The Lost Boys given an iffy and questionable 21st century makeover.

The story finds two teenagers (Hilgenbrinck and Reeser) moving to the seaside village of Luna Bay, California after their parental units died in a car crash. In a financial crisis they move in with their aunt (who ends up charging them rent for their stay). Before long, the two are thrust into the collective grasp of several suave vampires who spend most of their free time playing video games and surfing in the moonlight. If you've seen The Lost Boys, chances are you know exactly where this train is headed: one sibling is simply taken by the charms of the head vampire (Kiefer Sutherland's younger half-brother Angus plays this role), while the other sibling teams with vampire hunter Edgar Frog (Feldman).

Interestingly, while this is just a modern re-imagining of The Lost Boys, this is also an hour of nostalgia. According to a comic series and a few theories, the two main characters are the offspring of Michael and Star from the first film. After all, these new main characters have the same last name. It seems a little too coincidental to me that the same family would endure the same adventure twice. Also, Feldman's Edgar Frog is up to his usual tricks. At least 5 times he mentions his brother (we presume his brother has become a vampire...but it's really vague), and there are a few lines from the first film that he recites again here. The film is driven to the point of becoming a self-parody when the DVD of The Goonies is displayed by one of the characters.

But the failure of this film is hardly surprising. I mean, the talent we're looking at is the furthest thing from impressive. Dodgy director P.J. Pesce previously worked on Sniper 3 and From Dusk Till Dawn 3. With Lost Boys: The Tribe, another title has been added to the list of cinematic mistakes he has partaken in.
Screenwriter Hans Rodionoff is no stranger to garbage. Those who've had the regrettable pleasure of suffering through National Lampoon's Bag Boy should already be familiar with this guy's talent of selling vomit to bulimics. Rodionoff's script for Lost Boys: The Tribe is a hodgepodge of tricks and gimmicks gleaned from various other movies. As a result, there ain't a scrap of originality, nor is there an inspired idea anywhere throughout the entire flick. This is basically a mere carbon copy of the first film. I experienced severe déjà vu as the story unfolded. It genuinely feels like Rodionoff just changed the character names of the first film before stripping away most of the pizzazz and replacing it with excessive bloodshed, profanity, nudity, and sexual situations. Normally I have no problem with any of the above. But all this content is present for the sake of being present. The first dialogue scene alone contains about 20 uses of the word "fuck" and its derivatives before moving onto a brutal beheading that seems entirely unnecessary. The evidence of a plot soon dissipates as the script moves through too many laboured contrivances. Meanwhile the characters are paper-thin and repugnant. Needless to say, the entire bloated affair is as original as a pimple on prom night. In a nutshell: this is Hack Writing 101.

The actors do little to help alleviate the pain associated with the horrible script. Hilgenbrinck and Reeser possess the spark and allure of Disney Channel has-beens. Their emotionless faces and contrived line deliveries are the type we'd usually witness on a commercial advertising the newest product for impotent men. This leaves their vampiric co-stars to chew scenery amid failed attempts at macho posturing.
On the other hand Corey Feldman appears rather eager to reprise his role of Edgar Frog. He is, without a doubt, the best part of the whole flick. Unfortunately, that's really not saying too much. Anyway, Feldman plays with his trademark toys and disperses a few worthy one-liners. His unnaturally deep voice is a bit of a problem; nevertheless he seems committed to giving his character something worthwhile. It's a shame he was so underused. If only this film just focused on the escapades of Edgar Frog, as that would have at least been fun.
Oh, and just for the record, there's a good reason why Angus Sutherland isn't as famous as his older half-brother (who was the head vampire in the original). Angus is a greasy blank slate, preferring to convey his woozy seductive qualities as though he was blitzed on wine coolers. It may be cute casting to put Kiefer Sutherland's half-brother in virtually the same role, but young Angus isn't an effective menace and he's also a barely alert actor.
Then there's Corey Haim...kinda. There's a scene during the end credits that brings back Haim's character. He wasn't given a bigger role in the film due to a number of difficulties. The two Coreys (as in Haim and Feldman) were great friends for a long time...but they apparently bitterly hate each other now.

For what it's worth, Lost Boys: The Tribe does provide a bit of good entertainment and it'll pass the time on a rainy evening. But that's the furthest thing from an enthusiastic praise. A fundamental remake of a cult classic was not a wise move. With an intolerable cast (Feldman is the sole exception to this wide-ranging criticism), rotten visuals (suffering the usual MTV syndrome that likewise plagued the original film), and a soundtrack that will make you hate the very concept of music - Lost Boys: The Tribe is an awful movie. There's simply no imagination being displayed here at all! I was not an avid fan of the original Lost Boys, but every second of this sequel's bumbling uselessness made me want to embrace Joel Schumacher's film even tighter.

If talent like this is producing rubbish sequels to hit films, I should sign up and make my mark. Maybe I'll pen a script for Fight Club 2: More Soap and Fighting. Hold on...I'll have to find out whether Edward Norton has a half-brother who wants to try his hand at acting (it's the thought that counts...skill is not a requirement).

2.8/10

They're looking for hot times. And they came to the right place...

The critical brain boggles when faced with the peculiar challenge of reviewing a clichéd 80s teenage sex comedy. One can only imagine how tough it would've been for a film critic back in the mid-1980s. Sure we get plenty of shitty trends for modern comedies these days (like the much-hated genre spoofs such as Epic Movie and Date Movie), but the never-ending flow of teen sex romps must've caused at least one or two critics to quit their job and become a Chartered Accountant. The movie in question, 1985's Private Resort, is one such member of this dreaded teen sex romp species.

The teenage sex comedy genre was launched by titles like Porky's, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and countless others. Unfortunately, this sub-genre yielded dozens of dodgy, witless, worthless movies, none of which dispensed any genuine laughs - but most of which were crammed with wall-to-wall nudity (both genders). Unbeknownst to audiences of the time, every once in a while one of these romps would feature a performance courtesy of an actor destined for big-time stardom. This explains why one might notice a very youthful Johnny Depp being displayed on the cover/poster of a little film entitled Private Resort. I beseech you all to disregard that natural impulse that says "Hey! Johnny Depp! This should be cool so I'll give it a go" because in the grand pantheon of mid-'80s teenage sex romps, Private Resort is certainly one of the very worst - and if it ain't the most excruciatingly unfunny example the sub-genre had to offer, it's certainly a favourable candidate.

Here's a very brief plot summary: Ben (Morrow) and Jack (Depp) are two horny teenage pals always on the lookout for the possibility of getting laid. Their mission for sex is given further momentum when the two travel to Florida and are guests at a luxurious resort for the weekend. As they wander around this resort they occasionally stop to ogle a pair of bare breasts, and they get entangled with a jewel thief as they go from one awkward (and mostly painfully unfunny) situation to the next. Oh, and the boys find romance as well.

That's pretty much it, plotwise. The entire film uses the stereotypical and unoriginal formula of a few horny teens in a certain location that are keen to get laid. In between the characters arriving at the resort and departing (with their newfound loves), the script offers nothing but awkward situations. It's evident that those behind and in front of the camera had an absolute ball and gave it everything they had...but were let down by the awful script. The film's failure is thus the direct fault of the screenwriter Gordon Mitchell. He obviously believes comedy is just embarrassing situations and characters struggling to deal with things going from bad to worse. Private Resort is crammed with sufficient hair-raising scenarios to fill four or five American Pie sequels.

The film's stupidity could be forgiven if only it was funny. As it is, Private Resort isn't funny...it's imbecilic to extremes. The gags and pratfalls can be predicted years before they happen. And at times the film is so desperate for laughs that a Bogan enters the equation, using terms like "dude" and "radical" - we all know the type. At the end of the day, this just isn't funny...this is shit.

Prior to his breakout performance in Oliver Stone's Platoon, Johnny Depp paid his dues in a horror flick and a sex comedy. The good news is that the horror flick was Wes Craven's A Nightmare on Elm Street, so there isn't anything to be embarrassed about on this front. On the other hand, the sex comedy was this brainless shit-fest. At least Johnny looks like he's actually trying to give the film something worthwhile at times. Johnny presents a fairly likeable persona with the character of Jack (no, this character has nothing to do with Jack Sparrow). He offers a few good moments of solid acting. Nothing worthy of an Oscar, but this is a strange bridge to the lucrative career he now has.

In closing: Private Resort is aggressively obnoxious, foolish, daft, painfully unoriginal and inconceivably imbecilic. This is a film only noted for the early performances of Johnny Depp and Rob Morrow. There's little doubt in my mind that both Depp and Morrow cringe if they spot a copy of the film floating around at their local DVD shop. With Johnny Depp's current career in mind, he most likely wants to bury this movie forever. He even reportedly admitted that he did it only for money. Even the top-billed Rob Morrow (whose career has vanished) would probably want to have Private Resort scrubbed from his résumé. Is it a total disaster, though? Not at all, but dangerously close. While the laughs are few and far between, there are a few situations worthy of a giggle (these moments provide simple chuckles as opposed to genuine laugh-out-loud material). It also passes the time adequately. On top of this, I have four words and a piece of punctuation to add: Johnny Depp's bare butt!

3.4/10

"The final measure of bravery is to stand up to death."

The Cannes Film Festival of 1997 was a devastating period for Johnny Depp. The actor had directed, co-written and starred in The Brave, but his efforts were hardly rewarded when he presented the film to audiences at Cannes. Depp's film was subsequently panned severely by critics. This criticism profoundly disheartened Depp, who was so upset he refused to have The Brave released in the US. To this day the film has been buried and forgotten. Some people even exclude the film from the résumés of Depp and Marlon Brando. Not many people are even aware of the film's existence, except for die-hard film buffs and epicentres of Depp devotion. One will unquestionably find it taxing to unearth a copy of this film. It was released on DVD, but limited copies were distributed. Now you'll only find the DVD floating around on eBay or other online stores if you're lucky. If you ask me, this is a true pity. (Why couldn't this instead happen to a more deserving title, such as that dreadful teen sex romp Private Resort? That's a Johnny Depp film that deserves to be removed from existence and get buried for eternity.)

By no means is The Brave a masterpiece, but it's a poetic and expressionistic film that marks a very important entry to the résumé of Johnny Depp. It's admirably unconventional and gripping, with a brutal sense of reality permeating every scene. The film's depiction of the American Indian community is unflinching. Instead of creating a feel-good film, Depp directed a deeply depressing, emotive and powerful drama that deserves much more acclaim and attention.

The story is derived from Gregory McDonald's novel of the same name. This is a sincere and touching story that poignantly explores themes of bravery, veracity, and strength of character, but above all delves into the lengths a father will travel to in order to protect his family.
Depp plays an unemployed, alcoholic American Indian named Rapheal. He was recently released from gaol, and had returned to his family who reside in a shanty-town near a garbage heap. His family is devastatingly stricken by poverty, to the extent that they're struggling to put food on the table. Down on his luck and with little choice, Rapheal investigates a job prospect. At a grotty old warehouse he encounters an enigmatic and creepy cripple known as McCarthy (Brando, in a very brief cameo appearance). Rapheal is offered the chance to star in a snuff film. He will be tortured and killed on film a week hence, and in return his family will receive a hefty $50,000. Thinking solely about his family, Rapheal agrees. From there the film chronicles Rapheal's final 7 days. He reforms relationships with his two children and falls in love with his wife all over again. As Rapheal was given a bit of money upfront, he begins to give his family gifts to ensure he has a magnificent final week.

This intriguing premise of sacrifice is worked into a plot about prejudice, social injustice, human corruption and poverty. To an extent his efforts pay off. However, with such a long running time and so little actually going on during these two long hours, the messages are weakened. Johnny's directing and acting are fine by all accounts, but it's the writing that denotes the film's lethal fault. The middle of the film is overlong and narratively inept, with a deficiency of key plot points and general happenings. Unfortunately a few of the stronger scenes are drawn out to abject monotony. It's also worth noting that the film never blatantly tells the viewer that Rapheal will be featured in a snuff film. The best guess of a viewer will have to suffice.

The central criticism endured by The Brave was in regards to how unbelievable the story is. If a father allowed himself to be sacrificed in order for his family to live a better life, wouldn't they be mentally scarred for life? However, this is a character flaw as opposed to script flaw. The character of Rapheal is meant to be so daft that he never considers the long-term except for the financial benefits. It also shows Rapheal was willing to give up anything, even his own life, just to ensure his wife and kids could escape poverty. The gripping conclusion depicts an unforgettable, symbolic and ambiguous final image. If you expected Rapheal to break out a gun and dispatch his enemies in slow motion before walking off into the sunset with his girl and his money, then you'll be disappointed. The Brave never strives to be a clichéd Hollywood fare. Instead it stays true to its convictions from the first shot 'til the last. The anticlimactic finale will leave you stunned.

Johnny Depp's direction is first-rate. It's obvious he's drawn inspiration from his previous collaborators, such as Jim Jarmusch (Dead Man) and Emir Kusturica (Arizona Dream). Depp keeps the pacing careful and ponderous, albeit slightly sluggish during the middle section. For the most part I was riveted at the drama being offered. Authentic locations and sets are among the film's strengths. The final 5 minutes are particularly artistic. It's clear Depp worked passionately both behind and in front of the camera.
The music by Iggy Pop elevates the film to incredible heights. Particularly powerful are the last few minutes as a doomed man heads towards his inevitable fate. The poignant music is emotive and powerful. I will be perfectly frank: when the credits started to roll, tears wet my eyes and I sat completely astonished. This is a film that defies Hollywood clichés and challenges an audiences' notion of a happy ending. Overblown Hollywood bullshit this is not...The Brave is a drama firmly set in reality.

Performances are consistently excellent. Johnny Depp is surprisingly convincing as an Indian. This is a versatile performer who continues to tackle new and exciting things. From eccentric performances (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) to a gunslinger (Once Upon a Time in Mexico) to an Irish playwright (Finding Neverland), Depp is undoubtedly one of today's finest actors. Depp appears to immerse himself into the role of Rapheal. He delivers his lines with such conviction and passion. His striking good looks are just a bonus.
The Brave was one of Marlon Brando's final films. The actor is most recognised for films such as The Godfather, Apocalypse Now and A Streetcar Named Desire. In the 90s he was past his prime, but still spending his twilight years acting (no matter how small a role). I liked Brando's performance immensely. At one stage he delivers a seven minute monologue of the exquisite challenge of death. The dialogue itself is somewhat nonsensical (almost an unintended parody of his soliloquies from Last Tango in Paris), but if you just watch Brando's expressions and listen to the intonation, the actor is truly breathtaking.

It's a genuine pity that The Brave was so pasted and criticised. This won't ever be hailed as a masterpiece, nor should it be, but you can most certainly do worse. How can Uwe Boll's awful movies be released globally on DVD while this underrated gem continues to rot? Every year there are dreadful blockbusters that still see the light of day while The Brave is unfairly ignored. Needless to say, if you're a fan of Johnny Depp then you can't go past this one. As a first-time director Depp succeeds. That said, however, the film does have its faults. Occasionally the film is dramatically empty. An unfortunate lack of exciting events is disappointing as well.
Be that as it may, The Brave is a film I truly love for its poetic imagery and the courage to avoid a clichéd happy ending. I recommend it if you can find a copy.

8.3/10