movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

The Green Inferno is writer/director Eli Roth's tribute to cannibal horror movies of the '70s and '80s, most notably Cannibal Holocaust and Woman from Deep River. And indeed, this type of flick is a good fit for Roth's cinematic tendencies, as he enjoys indulging in excessive gore, and his horrors are often labelled as "torture porn." Even though Roth produces countless features on a yearly basis, this is actually his first helming endeavour since 2007's limp misfire Hostel: Part II, and the filmmaker clearly hasn't learned a great deal from his mistakes. There's gore aplenty in The Green Inferno, but it lacks actual terror and chills, and it's visibly hampered by its restricted budget. The Cannibal Holocaust influence is readily apparent throughout, as Roth has basically created the closest replication possible without directly remaking the controversial classic.

The daughter of a United Nations lawyer, college student Justine (Lorenza Izzo) has a crush on handsome campus rebel Alejandro (Ariel Levy), who heads a student activist group. Spurred on by her interest in Alejandro, Justine joins the group, and reluctantly agrees to a trip to Peru to protest the bulldozing of rainforests. The protest goes off as planned, making headlines around the world, but Justine is left disillusioned, realising that Alejandro cannot be trusted and doesn't care about her safety. Making matters worse, the students are soon captured by a cannibal tribe, who intend to butcher and eat them all, one at a time.

The Green Inferno is the fourth movie that Roth has directed, and it follows the same formula, with dim-witted young people marching into unfamiliar territory where they are systematically killed off. Cabin Fever featured rural rednecks as the killers, while the Hostel films used Third World chaos to punish the naiveté of the leading characters. And now Roth turns his attention to indigenous South American tribes, though it still feels like more of the same. Considering that this is his first directorial outing in a few years, it's disheartening that Roth isn't interested in a challenge, and though he does attempt to inject some satire and commentary into the proceedings, it's text rather than subtext, and it's far less effective than the still-potent Cannibal Holocaust.

Despite impressive make-up effects by veterans Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger, The Green Inferno feels cheap to its core, with ugly digital cinematography that carries an amateurish look. This may be a $5 million horror flick, but 2015's Bone Tomahawk was produced for a fraction of that cost, and still looks far more authentic and cinematic. There's no snap or spark to elevate The Green Inferno above the ordinary, with plodding, workmanlike pacing and unconvincing performances across the board. Although Roth fills the frame with blood and guts, the result is thoroughly joyless, with no thought towards tact or style to make it palatable. To be fair, however, Manuel Riveiro's original score is effective, and there are some comedic touches that do work, including stoned cannibals who get the munchies.

It's actually somewhat miraculous that The Green Inferno ever saw the light of day. Filmed all the way back in 2012, it was set for release in 2013, but wound up being shelved for two years due to financial issues. With all that time between shooting and release, there's really no excuse for such a poor final product. The movie does admittedly boast nice locations, with filming having taken place deep in the Amazon jungle featuring real natives as extras (who had no idea what a movie was), but Roth's filmmaking is too slipshod, and the writing is hard to defend.

4.1/10

The 1996 Mount Everest Disaster has been covered in books and documentaries, but 2015's Everest is the first major motion picture to dramatise the event. Directed by Baltasar Kormákur (2 Guns, Contraband), this is a damn good disaster movie imbued with an admirable sense of authenticity which manages to avoid outright sensationalism. For the most part, the disaster lends itself beautifully to the motion picture format, providing both tragedy and big-screen intensity, not to mention there are aspects to this tale which again prove that fact can be stranger than fiction. Indeed, this is such obvious fodder for a film that one must wonder why it took nearly two decades for one to materialise. With seasoned action filmmaker Kormákur at the helm, Everest is visually spectacular and competently executed, capturing the sheer chaos of a storm on one of the tallest mountains in the world, and conveying the arduous physical effort of mountaineering.

In 1996, several separate climbing expeditions begin ascending to the summit of Mt. Everest. New Zealand climbing enthusiast Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) runs Adventure Consultants with the aid of his base camp manager Helen (Emily Watson). Rob's new group includes journalist Jon Krakauer (Michael Kelly), experienced Texan climber Beck (Josh Brolin), and returning client Doug (John Hawkes), who refuses to give up on his dream to reach the summit. Climbing Everest is frustrating, though, with too many companies and too many clients vying for space, which threatens everybody's safety. Amid the traffic jam, Rob finds a familiar face in Scott Fischer (Jake Gyllenhaal), who owns Mountain Madness and plans to summit on the same day as Rob. But a terrible storm begins to move in on the most critical day, splitting up the climbers, leaving people stranded in the Death Zone with a low supply of oxygen.

Running at a hair under two hours, Everest does feel incomplete to an extent. The disaster is simply too vast for a single motion picture to cover, and the script cannot quite find the time to properly develop all of the individuals involved, or convey every facet of the event. (There was actually a team of IMAX filmmakers on the mountain when tragedy struck, but they are only mentioned once here, in passing.) It's important to perceive Everest as a dramatisation of the disaster, rather than an entirely accurate historical document. Some have criticised the movie for both its inaccuracies as well as the details that it excluded, yet the script hews closely enough to the many important factors of the real event, whilst only making minor changes to produce a more dramatically satisfying movie. Screenwriters William Nicholson and Simon Beaufoy also needed to fill in some of the blanks since details surrounding the deaths of some of the climbers remain unknown. Ultimately, Everest comes together well enough on its own terms, and that's what matters.

Everest is a visual blockbuster, produced with IMAX and 3D in mind, and it thankfully translates into a viewing experience that's both involving and convincing. Salvatore Totino's cinematography is eye-catching, while editing is sharp and Dario Marianelli provides a hugely effective original score. Segments of the picture were shot on the real mountain in sub-zero temperatures, and the integration of location shooting with digital effects and the staggeringly authentic sets is wholly seamless. As a matter of fact, at no point will you be consciously aware that you're looking at CGI, which is the highest honour you can award a motion picture like this. Kormákur gets plenty of mileage from the material, managing to stage nail-bitingly intense set-pieces, and even though the fates of those involved have been known for twenty years, it's easy to get involved in the movie and hope that everybody will survive regardless. Better yet, nothing comes off as excessive, with a handful of armrest-clenching beats that are more on the subtle side, and numerous nice character moments at base camp. Although Kormákur's previous motion picture efforts are entertaining, it's refreshing to see the director tackle something more challenging. He shows respect to all participants involved, even closing with authentic photos of the real people caught up in the disaster.

There are a lot of characters here, but it's easy to keep track of who's who thanks to effective characterisations, and it definitely helps that recognisable actors play the important roles. Despite the focus on visuals and set-pieces, the movie does connect on an emotional level on account of strong acting across the board, and there is a nice, palpable camaraderie between the performers. Clarke's Rob Hall is essentially the lead of the picture, though this is an ensemble effort, with all the thespians given a time to shine. The likes of Watson and Hawkes hit their marks exquisitely, while Brolin effortlessly carves out the most charismatic presence in the movie, and even Sam Worthington submits an excellent performance as rival mountaineer Guy Cotter. Also notable is Gyllenhaal, who feels severely underused and only seems to exist in the movie's peripheries. And as Hall's pregnant, worrying wife, Keira Knightley fulfils her duties well enough.

Perhaps more depth or background to the characters might have been appreciated, but Everest was designed as an immersive you-are-there experience, and it easily succeeds in this sense. It's not an easy watch, however, with Kormákur not shying away from the more unnerving aspects of this disaster, though it still stays within the confines of a PG-13 rating. Intense and affecting, this is a modern disaster movie done right.

7.9/10

The Visit may be an imperfect thriller that never quite engages or frightens like the best genre movies, but it is a reassuring step in the right direction for director M. Night Shyamalan, whose misplaced confidence led to such indefensible disasters as The Last Airbender and After Earth. Disposing of large budgets and blockbuster thrills, Shyamalan seeks to return to his roots with The Visit, exploiting a primal fear to serve as the basis for a low-budget found footage chiller. Luckily, it works more than perhaps it had a right to, serving up scares and laughs in equal measure. It's not a genuine return to form for Shyamalan, but it nevertheless packs a punch.

Fifteen-year-old Becca (Olivia DeJonge) and her younger brother Tyler (Ed Oxenbould) have never met their grandparents, because their mother (Kathryn Hahn) had a bitter falling out with them. However, the kids are curious to meet their Nana (Deanna Dunagan) and Pop Pop (Peter McRobbie), and decide to travel to rural Pennsylvania to spend a week with them while their mother treats herself to a romantic cruise with her new beau. Becca is a budding filmmaker and seeks to use the trip as a chance to make a documentary about the pair that she hopes will mend fences. Nana and Pop Pop initially appear to be more than welcoming towards the kids, with Becca making the most of her documentary film opportunity. However, the pair soon discover that their grandparents have disturbing behavioural issues after the lights go out, and there's the lingering sense that something is not quite right.

Found footage is normally reserved for inexperienced, cash-strapped young filmmakers seeking to make their mark through limited resources, but The Visit is a different matter. Shyamalan is a seasoned director hoping to reinvigorate his creative impulses in search of a hit, keeping costs low in order to retain creative control without studio interference. Admittedly, the limitations of the found footage subgenre do prevent The Visit from being wholly satisfying, and one must wonder what the movie might have been like if it had been told through conventional means. After all, found footage cancels out the filmmaking aspects that Shyamalan actually excels at: precise framing, deliberate editing, and even the use of music. It's a more successful endeavour than, say, Renny Harlin's The Dyatlov Pass Incident, but it's nevertheless paint-by-numbers. Shyamalan adores twist endings, and The Visit sees the writer-director revisiting this characteristic to an extent, though the "twist" is not exactly mind-blowing or revolutionary, and isn't difficult to predict.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, The Visit was co-produced and distributed by Blumhouse Productions, who specialise in micro-budget horror pictures of this ilk. To Shyamalan's credit, there are a few particularly spooky sequences once the kids settle into their accommodation, including an unnerving scene set under the house. It is worth noting that the flick is not at all supernatural, with scares being derived from the mental conditions and general peculiarities of the two old people, thus the effectiveness of the horror will depend on your unease about folks of advanced age. The narrative of The Visit builds commendably, and though it's a slow-burner, the pacing is often taut. Shyamalan does a superlative job of maintaining tension during the third act, able to make us just as edgy and nervous as Becca and Tyler. But the horror is not served straight-up, with Shyamalan mixing in comical scenes and amusing dialogue, and it mostly works; the film is unexpectedly funny. However, there's an ill-advised detour into gross-out humour involving shit being shoved into somebody's face that only really serves as a visual representation of what Shyamalan has done to his audience for his past few movies.

DeJonge and Oxenbould are two of The Visit's biggest assets. DeJonge carves out a believable teenage girl character, made even more interesting by her passion for moviemaking (with a hint of pretentiousness), and she's an instantly disarming presence. Even better is Oxenbould, a comedic highlight as the goofy, shameless younger brother who's full of spirit. As opposed to dumb horror movie protagonists, these two are smart and resourceful, making it easy to care about them. Meanwhile, as Nana and Pop Pop, Dunagan and McRobbie are mightily effective, alternating between warm and disquieting.

The Visit is worth watching, but it does fall short of the narrative brilliance of the likes of The Sixth Sense or Signs. And although it does contain unnerving moments and a few surprising jump-scales, the movie is not exactly terrifying enough to truly satiate horror junkies seeking a good scare. Still, in comparison to Shyamalan's recent output, The Visit is just good enough. Let's just hope that the filmmaker's next effort will be the real comeback we've been waiting for.

6.2/10

The Transporter Refueled is at once wholly unrelated to the Jason Statham Transporter trilogy, and an attempt to continue the franchise as if nothing has changed. Indeed, this is a soft reboot of the Transporter series (without Statham) to whore out the brand name for all the money that it's worth, yet it isn't bold enough to try anything new, bringing back the same car, the same smart suit, the same lead character and the same type of visual style, except it's all executed on a slashed budget, and it's not even half as fun as its predecessors. (Hell, even Transporter 3 had its moments.) Suffering from a complete lack of logic and dismal acting, Refueled is a terrible new low for the series, and its technical presentation is about on the same level as a below-par straight-to-video endeavour. Trust me, it's bad.

In 1995, ruthless criminal Arkady (Radivoje Bukvic) takes over crime operations at the French Riviera, seeking to make a lot of money by exploiting women as high-price hookers. Fifteen years later, Anna (Loan Chabanol) looks to exact revenge on Arkady, teaming up with three of Arkady's former prostitutes to steal his fortune and rob his associates. Needing a driver, Anna calls upon Frank Martin (Ed Skrein) for the job, but although she initially agrees to his list of rules, she instantly changes the contract and forces Frank's involvement by kidnapping his father, Frank Sr. (Ray Stevenson).

For absolutely no good reason, The Transporter Refueled apparently takes place in 2010, with the story opening in 1995 before flashing forward fifteen years, according to an on-screen caption. But this doesn't make much sense, since the characters drive 2015 model vehicles and use iPhone 5's, leaving us to assume that either the prop department didn't get the memo, or the screenwriters were unable to handle basic math. Or nobody gave a shit. Worse, Refueled actually rips off scenes from the previous films, with Frank confronting a group of thugs in a car park who want to steal his ride, before proceeding to beat the snot out of them. And bringing in Frank's father only serves to rip off Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, with Frank Sr. calling his son "Junior." Dialogue is mostly awful, without any degree of wit, and the flick helps itself to piles of action movie clichés. But an even more pertinent issue is that Refueled is flat-out boring. It clocks in at a rather slender 96 minutes, yet it feels twice as long, with wonky pacing and humdrum action scenes that are spoiled by jarring editing.

Refueled was directed by Camille Delamarre, who has a history with Luc Besson's EuropaCorp production company; he directed Brick Mansions and edited both Transporter 3 and Taken 2. But none of these pictures are especially good, leaving us to wonder why he was the obvious choice for this outing. Surely Besson could have recruited a proper action director? It's almost as if he's sabotaging his own movies. Even though Refueled thankfully doesn't rely so much on shaky-cam, editing is a blur, ruining the car chases and fisticuffs, with Delamarre struggling to find a proper rhythm amid all the harsh, frenetic cuts. Admittedly, things do improve to an extent in the third act, finding a few inspired moments of over-the-top lunacy, including Frank using filing cabinet draws during a brawl, and a jump from an airport tarmac into the boarding gate. The Transporter series is predicated on this type of tongue-in-cheek insanity, but there's so little of it here, and Delamarre has no clue how to properly execute coherent, enjoyable set-pieces.

Skrein may not be Jason Statham, but he certainly wants to be. An Englishman much like his predecessor, Skrein espouses his best Statham growl impersonation (but it's still pretty bad), ostensibly even trying to mimic his walk at times, but it's all for naught. Whereas Statham exudes charisma and authority, Skrein is perhaps the least intimidating action hero wannabe of recent memory. The only real saving grace in the acting department is Stevenson, with the former Punisher showing that he still has what it takes. Honestly, this should have been Stevenson's show, since he's a far more agreeable movie badass. Hilariously, Stevenson is actually only three years older than Statham, and there's a mere nineteen-year age gap between Stevenson and Skrein. The rest of the actors aren't really worth mentioning, with forgettable foreign actors speaking broken English, and with no names ever sticking.

At the end of the day, The Transporter Refueled is a pointless reboot that nobody wanted or asked for, and it's so creatively bankrupt and unengaging that you will instantly forget it before the end credits have even expired. Hell, it's possible to forget the movie whilst watching it, as my mind certainly wandered, pondering more interesting things. With the Transporter TV series seemingly over, and with this pile of crap racking up an unimpressive figure at the worldwide box office, hopefully this is the end of the franchise.

4.1/10

Just as 1971's Wake in Fright explored Australia's alcoholic culture, 2015's Ruben Guthrie is a contemporary feature film concerned with the national fondness for booze, poignantly examining the ill effects of binge drinking in Aussie culture. Written and directed by Australian actor Brendan Cowell (Last Cab to Darwin, Beneath Hill 60), this is a witty, insightful observation of the human condition, and a relevant coming-of-age dramedy.

The titular Ruben Guthrie (Patrick Brammall) is a high-flying Sydney advertising executive with a lavish beachfront residence and a beautiful Czech fiancée named Zoya (Abbey Lee). But Ruben's predilection for hard partying threatens his wellbeing, with a drunken leap off the roof resulting in a broken arm, but he's blissfully ignorant of his precarious situation. However, Ruben is forced to re-assess his life when Zoya chooses to leave Australia, delivering an ultimatum: If he can give up booze for one year, she will give him another chance. Compelled to admit that he's an addict, Ruben goes cold turkey and signs up for AA, determined to win back his fiancée. The task is not as easy as he imagines, though - all of his best advertising work was done whilst on drugs, his old mate Damian (Alex Dimitriades) returns to his life wanting to party, and his parents (Robyn Nevin, Jack Thompson) are dedicated wine drinkers trying to convince their son to indulge.

Originally a stage play published in 2008, this is a semi-autobiographical tale for Cowell, who wrote the play after a dark time in his life during which he fell victim to alcoholism. It's a bold story to tell, as it shows just how difficult it is to go cold turkey in Australia, where drinking is considered a vital part of national culture. The easily offended may be repelled by the movie's content, though, as Ruben Guthrie is full of profanity and crude dialogue, and Cowell's views on Australia's destructive drinking culture are not exactly savoury. To the writer-director's credit, he does an efficient job of establishing Ruben's character, opening the movie with a hard partying scene reminiscent of The Wolf of Wall Street, and the storytelling is sure-footed for a first-time feature filmmaker. Sarah Blasko's original music also works really well, and the flick doesn't outstay its welcome at 93 minutes in length. Less successful, however, is the portrayal of Ruben's new love interest Virginia (Harriet Dyer), who does come across as a bit of a cliché in the long run.

Ruben Guthrie does wear its theatre origins on its sleeve, with the majority of the picture taking place in low-key locales - houses, bars and AA meetings - but Cowell does take advantage of the cinematic medium, collaborating with cinematographer Simon Harding to create a stylish, European-looking flick, recognising the value of close-ups to effectively capture performances. Since Cowell is an actor himself, he has the good sense to let the actors do their thing without intrusive visual gimmicks. The picture's aesthetics are undoubtedly bolstered by the gorgeous Sydney scenery, with sweeping shots of the harbour and picturesque views, and the sun rarely shines brightly, making for a dim colour palette that suits the tone of the story. It's buoyed by an ensemble of fine thespians as well, led by Brammall who immerses himself into the titular role with remarkable conviction, while Thompson and Nevin are enormously believable as Ruben's self-absorbed parents. And as Ruben's beloved Zoya, Abbey Lee (last seen as one of Immortan Joe's wives in Mad Max: Fury Road) makes a positive impression, espousing a Czech accent that's wholly believable.

Much like the underrated Manny Lewis, perhaps Ruben Guthrie might have been more warmly received if it wasn't an Australian flick, as aspects of the production are unique to Aussie culture and may alienate foreign viewers. But the messages and morals of the narrative are universal, and the malleable premise could even be re-jigged for remakes. Even though Cowell's directorial eye may not be perfect, this is a strong theatrical debut for the actor, with worthwhile humour and involving drama. And best of all, it's not preachy or pretentious, though it can be heavy and depressing. In final analysis, Ruben Guthrie is worth checking out.

7.2/10

Creed is precisely the type of involving, crowd-pleasing independent motion picture that Rocky was back in 1976. Five sequels followed the Oscar-winning Rocky, with the most recent follow-up, 2006's Rocky Balboa, retiring Sylvester Stallone's iconic titular role in a respectful manner. It's understandable, then, that a degree of trepidation surrounded 2015's Creed, which threatened to spoil the perfect franchise conclusion concocted by Stallone nearly a decade ago. But under the care of co-writer/director Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station), who was given Sly's blessing and support, Creed is far better than anybody could have reasonably expected, showing once again that Coogler truly is a cinematic talent to be reckoned with. For all intents and purposes, this can be considered a fan film, with Coogler crafting a reverent, affectionate valentine to the iconic franchise. Against all odds, though, Creed is an exhilarating extension of the series, a modern film delivered with true passion that harkens back to a previous era in all the right ways.

The illegitimate son of iconic former boxing champion Apollo Creed, Adonis Johnson (Michael B. Jordan) spends his childhood in foster care and juvenile hall, before finally being adopted by Apollo's widow, Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad). Although Mary Anne tries to raise Adonis on the straight and narrow, he's still his father's son, choosing to leave his secure white-collar job to pursue a career in the ring. Departing Los Angeles, Adonis travels to Philadelphia, where he tracks down Rocky Balboa (Stallone), who's still running a restaurant named for his beloved late wife Adrian. Despite Rocky's initial disinterest, Adonis convinces the aging boxer to train him, with the two ultimately forming a tender friendship based on mutual trust and respect. In addition, Adonis finds love in Bianca (Tessa Thompson), a musician with progressive hearing loss who enraptures the wannabe fighter. Adonis seeks to make a name for himself without using the name "Creed," but word soon gets out about his heritage, and before long he's challenged by hothead English boxing champion "Pretty" Ricky Conlan (Tony Bellew).

It's clear that Coogler and co-writer Aaron Covington did their homework before embarking on Creed, and the result is an organic continuation with a fundamental understanding of Balboa as a character. Rocky's every line of dialogue feels real, with ideal Rocky-isms and tender humour as Coogler takes the champ to the next logical place in his life without coming off as contrived. And although Adonis is the focus of the story, Coogler finds time to peer into Rocky's personal life, with a poignant visit to the cemetery that will no doubt bring tears to the eyes of many. The idea of Rocky as a coach may have been explored in Rocky V, but that dismal follow-up was brought down by a naff, surface-level script - by comparison, Creed feels thoroughly authentic. There are echoes of the original Rocky in terms of narrative structure, and some may even call it a remake, but the execution is close to perfect, emerging as a distinct new entry in the franchise. And although the romance between Adonis and Bianca does seem almost obligatory, it's a vital part of the plot, with the coupling proving to be wholly endearing.

Creed is teeming with references to the Rocky movies, but such aspects are meaningful and nuanced without ever coming off as cheap fan service. The story returns to Mickey's old gym where it all began, for instance, and in one scene Adonis shadowboxes against Apollo who's projected on a wall via a YouTube video of his initial match with Balboa. Commendably, Creed does not play out like some victory lap that rides on the legacy of the Rocky franchise. Rather, it is a very heavy drama at times, reminiscent of the original Rocky more than the cheesy fun of Rocky IV. Some dramatic developments may not sit right with long-time fans at first, but the material is tastefully handled and makes sense in the context of the narrative. But as powerful and affecting as the picture may be, it's not an insufferably dour drama, as Coogler incorporates the same brand of humour glimpsed in the Rocky movies without going over-the-top.

Recapturing the gritty cinematic aesthetic of its predecessors, the look of Creed is spot-on, with Coogler always maintaining firm control of his movie. The intensity of the ring is also perfectly captured, with one amazing boxing match lensed in an unbroken extended take, immediately setting it apart from similar endeavours. And the grand finale, portrayed in prototypical Rocky style, is raw and visceral, easily drawing you in and encouraging you to cheer for Adonis in the same way that we have cheered for Balboa in previous instalments. The fight choreography is especially stunning; punches look authentic and blood is shed, but Coogler also recognises that our investment in the fights derives from proper characterisation, with Adonis an effortlessly likeable lead. Also beneficial is Ludwig Göransson's incredible score, which is reminiscent of Bill Conti's memorable musical contributions to the Rocky saga whilst still establishing its own distinctive identity. The movie even makes tasteful use of the iconic Rocky theme, which makes for one of the most goosebump-inducing moments in cinema of 2015.

Many will come to Creed to see Stallone as Rocky Balboa once again, yet Jordan manages to hold his own against the heavyweight, atoning for Fantastic Four in style. Adonis is tough, yet the movie also reveals a more vulnerable side, with Jordan carving out a believable, fallible character. But while his performance is damn good, most people will no doubt walk away from Creed with a renewed love for Mr. Stallone. This is precisely the movie that Stallone needed to bring him back down to earth, as the actor's ego has undoubtedly gotten the best of him lately. Sly slips back into his iconic role as if no time has passed, submitting his most beautifully nuanced work since, well, 2006's Rocky Balboa. Rocky has changed since his first appearance in 1976, becoming older and wiser, but he still has a big heart. The script gives Stallone the chance to show off his acting chops that many may have forgotten he even possesses, and he nails it. It's a very real performance, and one particular moment at a hospital features perhaps the best instance of acting in Stallone's career. It is heartfelt work from the veteran and his Golden Globe win was well-deserved. Meanwhile, Thompson is a smart pick for the warm-hearted Bianca, and Rashad makes a positive impression as Mary Anne. However, as Conlan, Tony Bellew is an out-and-out cartoon, creating a typical villain role for us to actively root against, and that almost betrays the realistic tone that Coogler strives for.

As with the majority of the Rocky movies, there are real-life allegories to be drawn from Creed; just as Adonis passionately strives to carve out his own legacy and escape his father's shadow, the movie itself is trying to create its own legacy and escape the shadow of the Rocky franchise. The only real drawback is that it's not Rocky, and by boldly including Balboa, setting the story in Philly, and adhering to a Rocky-esque narrative, it does invite comparisons. And yet, Coogler infuses the movie with its own voice, and the result quite simply works. It pulls on the heartstrings without shame, leading to a final scene that's impossible to watch with dry eyes, especially if you're a long-time fan of the Rocky franchise. It's a tried-and-true formula movie in some respects, but the skill of the execution elevates Creed; it's one of the best movies of 2015.

9.2/10

2015's Deathgasm is very much a throwback horror picture, with New Zealand writer-director Jason Lei Howden creating an excessively gory splatter flick clearly inspired by the likes of Evil Dead, Bad Taste and Braindead, among others, with a dash of heavy metal music for good measure. A gleefully off-the-hook horror-comedy, it's the helming debut for Howden, a visual effects artist who worked on Peter Jackson's The Hobbit trilogy, among many other big-budget productions. The joys of Deathgasm are hard to deny, as it's teeming with humour and tongue-in-cheek gore, while the story is also enhanced by the nuances of life as a young metalhead. It's a total gas for those who enjoy these kinds of low-budget indie horrors, easily exceeding many of the more generously-budgeted scare-fests of 2015.

When his drug-addicted mother is put into a mental hospital, teenager Brodie (Milo Cawthorne) is sent to a nowhere town to live with his conservative Uncle Albert (Colin Moy) and bullying cousin David (Nick Hoskins-Smith). Brodie immediately struggles to fit in, but he soon bonds with aspiring musician Zakk (James Blake), who has a comparable interest in death metal. The pair soon decide to form a metal band called "Deathgasm," also recruiting fellow outcasts Dion (Sam Berkley) and Giles (Daniel Cresswell), who love to play "Dungeons & Dragons." Brodie also befriends the beautiful Medina (Kimberly Crossman), who usually dates arrogant jocks. Stealing a mysterious music sheet from aging rocker Rikki Daggers (Stephen Ure), Brodie and his friends perform the song therein, but in the process accidentally unleash demonic forces upon the town.

Visual language is used to get across the characterisations and the light-hearted tone in no time, with Brodie and Zakk's love for metal influencing their looks, and there's even some brief animation resembling notebook doodlings. Howden has stated that there is an autobiographical slant to the story, imbuing Deathgasm with a specific interest in, and affection for, death metal. Brodie is based on Howden's experiences as a metalhead teen, lending a certain believability to the portrayal of the teenagers which makes them feel real, and it helps that Howden has a talent for writing amusing dialogue and sly gags (including a creative Rick Roll joke). There are some amateurish performances here from the supporting players in particular, but Cawthorne (whose filmography also includes Power Rangers R.P.M.) is a smart choice for the role of Brodie, even if he does look more like a twenty-something than a teenager. Another huge asset is Kimberly Crossman (another former Power Ranger) playing the token love interest; she's disarming, and it's believable that all the boys in school lust after her.

In its opening act, Deathgasm is all about youth problems and heavy metal, but once the cursed sheet music is performed by the titular band, demons are unleashed and the movie becomes a gleefully over-the-top splatterfest, taking palpable inspiration from the Evil Dead series as well as Peter Jackson's early cinematic efforts. Once the main characters recognise the threat, they take up makeshift weaponry, including chainsaws, a grass trimmer, axes, and even sex toys, sustaining an atmosphere of cheeky mischief as possessed townspeople are disembodied in inspired acts of exaggerated ultra-violence, brought to life through old-school practical special effects. Howden may be a digital VFX artist, but he recognised the importance of practical effects in a production of this ilk, even hiring the New Zealand-based special effects company that worked on both the Evil Dead remake and the Ash vs. Evil Dead TV show. The tone for Deathgasm is spot-on - it's neither a jokey farce nor an uncomfortable gore-fest, with Howden achieving the right tongue-in-cheek approach while still treating the material with sincerity. Also beneficial is Simon Raby's smooth cinematography which effectively captures all the bloody mayhem without resorting to shaky-cam, while heavy metal songs dominate the soundtrack.

For the most part, Deathgasm succeeds as a fun, raucous romp, remaining juvenile and madcap as the craziness unfolds, but the movie begins running out of steam into its third act, with a few unnecessarily dramatic story developments threatening to hinder the fun vibe. It should be an easy sprint to the finish line, but momentum is halted at the wrong time, and the lag is felt. Plus, although the climax is excessively splattery, it's not quite as adept as the rest of the picture, with Howden struggling to maintain authority over the material. Still, some of these shortcomings are understandable given the low budget and the restricted shooting schedule. For what it is, Deathgasm is an agreeable, funny, entertaining throwback horror-comedy. And be sure to stick around until the end of the credits for an additional scene.

7.1/10

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is the latest attempt to transform a bygone television show into a new cinematic franchise, following in the shadow of Mission: Impossible, The Equalizer, Get Smart, and too many more to list. A retro, old-fashioned spy caper, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is based on the TV show of the same name from the 1960s, and thankfully it's a strong enough movie to stand alone as its own entity - it still works even if you aren't familiar with the show. Sleekly directed by Guy Ritchie (Sherlock Holmes, Snatch), the movie is admittedly light on substance, but the execution is truly something to behold, with Ritchie working overtime to turn the humdrum narrative into a genuinely exciting blockbuster. It's a ridiculously entertaining and often droll espionage globe-trotter, bolstered by the jazzy music, stylish photography, spot-on period detail, sumptuous locales and taut editing, and the end result is undeniably endearing, as hollow as it may be.

Set in 1963 as the Cold War is heating up, stylish C.I.A. agent Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) is assigned to retrieve a car mechanic named Gaby (Alicia Vikander) from East Berlin. Gaby is the daughter of a top nuclear scientist who's tied to a powerful weapon with the potential to end the world, and the United States government hopes that Gaby can help find her missing father to thwart the plot. Despite the tensions between America and the Soviet Union, the warring governments recognise the gravity of the situation, putting aside their differences to work together. Thus, Solo is paired with KGB Agent Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer), though the two are incredibly reluctant to trust one another. With the threat of doomsday looming, Solo and Kuryakin are sent to Rome with Gaby, instructed to infiltrate the inner circle of those suspected of possessing the world-ending nuclear warhead.

It's the period setting which sets The Man from U.N.C.L.E. apart from contemporary spy flicks. Other television adaptations like Mission: Impossible were updated to take place in the here and now, but Ritchie's flick stays true to the source. The script recaptures the political climate and the paranoia of the 1960s, using Cold War touches to establish a logical divide between Solo and Kuryakin, who have serious trust issues and even have nicknames for one another. (Solo is "Cowboy" and Kuryakin is "Red Peril.") On top of this, U.N.C.L.E. is one of the most visually distinctive actioners of recent memory due to its retro touches, with period authenticity in terms of fashion and production design, while Daniel Pemberton provides a high-energy original score that's full of memorable themes. Other tunes from the era are also called upon - for instance, the Italian ballad "Che Vuole Questa Musica Stasera?" by Peppino Gagliardi dominates one particularly fun, tongue-in-cheek set-piece. Indeed, Ritchie's unique cinematic sensibilities are on full display here, and it's marvellous.

Written by Ritchie and frequent collaborator Lionel Wigram, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. moves at an involving pace, with tight storytelling, and the script is teeming with amusing bantering and comedy which makes for a constant source of joy. Ritchie even manages to infuse the necessary exposition with his trademark visual energy, and the enormously engaging action sequences actually make sense in the context of the narrative, rather than coming across as an excuse for bombastic theatrics. Momentum does noticeably lag, however, during a prolonged torture sequence that runs beyond its logical closure point, but Ritchie compensates for this with a borderline flawless finale which manages to be smart as well as exciting. U.N.C.L.E. greatly benefits from its visual scheme, with superlative photography courtesy of veteran cinematographer John Mathieson (X-Men: First Class, Gladiator), and though the movie was lensed digitally, it does carry the look of celluloid, with a slightly washed-out colour palette to resemble spy films from the 1960s. Ritchie employs split-screens to provide an extra visual spark, and even finds time for some creative sight gags, including an inventively-staged speedboat chase.

Cavill is a great fit for the role of Solo, with the British thespian swallowing his native accent to espouse an effectively exaggerated American drawl. He's an enormously charismatic presence, handling the humorous dialogue effectively and coming off as effortlessly cool. Equally solid is Hammer, who just cannot catch a box office break, it seems. Still, it's difficult to fault the actor here, who's an irresistible Illya Kuryakin, decked out with a convincing enough Russian accent. Hammer is mostly called upon to be deadpan, but manages to be likeable, and he's quite funny at times. Rounding out the main players is Vikander - last seen in the exceptional Ex Machina - who's just fine as Gaby. Other actors pop up in the supporting cast, too, with the likes of Hugh Grant and Jared Harris making their mark, while Elizabeth Debicki and Luca Calvani are great villains.

It is difficult to become genuinely invested in The Man from U.N.C.L.E., but it is undeniably entertaining, with Ritchie using every tool in his cinematic arsenal to keep the movie buoyant and eye-catching, even if it's hard to recall too much of it a few weeks after viewing. And since this is intended to be the first in a new franchise, the conclusion is open-ended to set up a possible sequel, which would be an enticing prospect. However, with The Man from U.N.C.L.E. bringing in mediocre box office returns, it's doubtful we'll see any follow-ups, which is a damn shame. 

7.6/10

2015's Tremors 5: Bloodlines should be a lot worse than it is. The fifth instalment in a franchise that also spawned a short-lived television show in 2003, this is also a straight-to-video effort, overseen by veteran B-movie director Don Michael Paul (Jarhead 2, Sniper 5, Lake Placid 4, Who's Your Caddy?). Perhaps owing to low expectations, Tremors 5 is an entertaining enough sequel, sporting decent production values and even bringing back franchise mainstay Michael Gross. It's not all good news, however - despite a polished presentation, Paul's movie is unable to escape its low-budget origins, with a slipshod screenplay and dull plotting, not to mention occasionally risible dialogue.

Now a minor celebrity with his own survivalist television show, Burt Gummer (Gross) has carved out a career based on his Graboid-hunting skills, even releasing his own line of food and drink products. Out of the blue, he's approached by Travis Welker (Jamie Kennedy), who wants to join Burt's team and help the old man fulfil his potential. Negotiating a mutually beneficial deal, Burt and Travis travel to South Africa, where Graboids have started attacking the locals. Erich Van Wyck (Daniel Janks) seeks to enlist Burt's assistance to capture an "Ass-Blaster" variation of the Graboid, but, as to be expected, things do not exactly go to plan, leaving the veteran hunter to clean up the infestation.

With a screenplay credited to four writers, Tremors 5 falls victim to a common pitfall of direct-to-video creature features: overcomplicating a simple narrative. This should be a story of Burt simply kicking butt in South Africa with help from Travis, but forgettable, generic ancillary characters are thrown in as well (no names ever stick), and other pointless subplots are added, including a futile detour involving Burt being locked in a cage that only leads to a lion urinating on him. A minor human antagonist is introduced as well, whose sole purpose is to get eaten. No real imagination is presented in Tremors 5, which is also highly derivative, liberally borrowing from Aliens and Jurassic Park, while the script also takes inspiration from 2013's Pacific Rim. The original Tremors was a very funny tongue-in-cheek horror-comedy, but unfortunately this fifth entry is not nearly as successful on the humour front. The actors try to mine laughs, but it only leads to a handful of awful improvised lines from Kennedy, and other horrendous attempts at comedy, including the aforementioned scene of a caged Burt. Dialogue is expectedly standard-order, in need of a spark of wit to liven up the enterprise. Also, it's borderline embarrassing to see Kennedy's stunt double doing BMX stunts during the opening credits.

Tremors 5 does contribute to the mythology of the franchise to an extent, even opening with a segment from Gummer's TV show which discusses the Graboids and Ass-Blasters at length for anybody who isn't familiar with the franchise. And upon arriving in South Africa, Burt finds that the monsters have evolved somewhat differently, which allows the movie to shake things up a little bit. The location switch to Africa was likely done for budgetary reasons, but it does add new scenery to the series, even though the cinematography is exceedingly workmanlike. On a more positive note, Tremors 5 does boast reasonably convincing special effects for a direct-to-video effort, and director Don Michael Paul doesn't make the mistake of keeping the digital beasts front and centre for the entire movie. Rather, glimpses of the creatures are fleeting, relying more on sound design and practically-achieved sprays of dirt to establish the presence of the Graboids. However, there is a particularly woeful attempt to mimic the raptors in the kitchen scene of Jurassic Park that only serves to underline how much Paul pales in comparison to Steven Spielberg.

The only actor to appear in all the Tremors movies as well as the TV show, Gross continues to have a lot of fun in his iconic role, emerging as the best thing in the entire movie. When Tremors 5: Bloodlines observes Gross battling the Graboids, it's solid fun, even if the rest of the movie is not nearly as successful. Kennedy, who was so amusing as the film buff in the Scream series, mugs the camera too often, while the rest of the cast members fail to make an impact. Still, for what it is, Tremors 5 provides a certain degree of entertainment in spite of its shortcomings, and the fact that it's not irredeemably awful is a big deal.

5.8/10

Special effects wizard Ray Harryhausen was responsible for a number of esteemed classics, but 1958's The 7th Voyage of Sinbad remains one of his best-remembered efforts. The first feature film involving stop-motion animation to be shot entirely in colour, this is a breezy, entertaining action-adventure, and it's easy to see why children were so besotted with it back in the day, and why it inspired so many budding filmmakers and special effects artists. The production has dated in some respects, yet this is not enough to diminish the movie's limitless charms, and it remains a quintessential special effects picture that film buffs simply need to see.

While sailing through the Persian Gulf, Captain Sinbad (Kerwin Mathews) and his crew happen upon the island of Colossa, where they find ample supplies to feed the starving men. However, a giant Cyclops does not take kindly to the crew's intrusion, forcing them to set sail and leave. In the scuffle, magician Sokurah (Torin Thatcher) loses a precious lamp containing a boy genie (Richard Eyer). Sokurah pleads with Sinbad to return to Colossa to retrieve the lamp, but the mission is deemed too risky. Back in Baghdad, the desperate Sokurah secretly shrinks Sinbad's beloved Princess Parisa (Kathryn Grant). Sokurah tells Sinbad that he can reverse the curse, but claims that an essential ingredient for the required magic potion can only be found on the island of Colossa. Left with no options, Sinbad embarks on a perilous voyage, with Sokurah joining his crew.

Running at a scant 88 minutes, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is concise and to the point, remaining involving and entertaining for the majority of its runtime. Interestingly, this is one Ray Harryhausen film for which the animator was heavily involved in the pre-production process. Harryhausen hatched the idea of a special effects-laden Sinbad movie, drawing up sketches of the creatures, and doing work on the movie long before director Nathan Juran or screenwriter Ken Kolb were recruited. Thus, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is designed for maximum action scenes and creatures, but the story nevertheless does its job well enough, stilted though it may sometimes be. Indeed, the material set in Baghdad is hit-and-miss, but the picture really hits its stride once Sinbad and his men arrive on Colossa. The actors are mostly effective, with Mathews a bit wooden as Sinbad, but as Harryhausen himself has pointed out, he does do a convincing job playing opposite creatures and actors who were not present on set. The only real standout is Thatcher, who's a memorable antagonist.

To be sure, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad has dated a fair amount, even by Harryhausen standards. Produced five years before 1963's still-impressive Jason and the Argonauts, the animation does lack refinement, and some of the creatures look too much like clay toys. As to be expected, too, the rest of the special effects work does look rough around the edges, but this adds to the movie's old-world charm. Indeed, it's still easy to enjoy and admire Harryhausen's special effects work, and it's easy to see why kids were so enraptured with this film back when it was first released. Harryhausen did such a good job, in fact, that his effects technique earned its own label: "dynamation," a portmanteau of "dynamic animation."

There are several notable set-pieces through The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, and Harryhausen also wonderfully pays homage to the beloved 1933 incarnation of King Kong, with a late battle between the infamous Cyclops and a dragon looking delightfully reminiscent of the sequence of Kong taking down a long-necked dinosaur. Another memorable aspect of the movie is Bernard Herrmann's score. This was Herrmann's first time composing a score for a Harryhausen picture, and he does a fine job. The central theme is insanely memorable, while the music throughout effortlessly amplifies the sense of adventure and excitement.

It's hard to predict any individual's reaction to The 7th Voyage of Sinbad in the 21st Century. If old-fashioned action-adventure pics are your jam, you will probably enjoy it and appreciate the artistry on-screen. But if you have a low tolerance for "old" movies, there's no talking to you. For my money, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad has its drawbacks, but it's nevertheless a fun action-adventure.

7.1/10