movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

"I ain't Captain Walker. I'm the guy who carries Mr. Dead in his pocket."

Released four years after the superlative Mad Max 2, 1985's Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome should have been a home run which closed the Mel Gibson-starring Mad Max trilogy on a high. But alas, it simply was not to be. Although Mad Max 2 received a sizable budget boost, Beyond Thunderdome is the first entry in the series with Hollywood backing, making it a studio effort rather than the vision of an auteur like the previous features. Evidence of studio involvement is present from the outset, lingering throughout the movie and oftentimes slapping you in the face. Beyond Thunderdome loses sight of why the original films worked, swapping out R-rated ultra-violence for a freaking PG-13 rating, and adding too much gloss. PG-13 alone is an automatic fail, but the awfulness of this stinker goes much further than that.

Fifteen years after the events of the previous movie, Max Rockatansky (Gibson) is stripped of all his belongings, left to wander the desolate Australian wasteland on foot. By chance, Max happens upon a crude village dubbed "Bartertown," a place that's overseen by matriarch leader Aunty Entity (Tina Turner). As Max arrives, Entity is locked in a political dispute with Master Blaster; a being comprised of small engineer Master (Angelo Rossitto) and hulking behemoth Blaster (Paul Larsson) who refine methane gas from pig faeces. Aunty Entity offers Max a deal: she will provide him with a full compliment of supplies if he enters the Thunderdome and engages in a fight to the death with Blaster. Max breaks the deal, however, and as a consequence is cast out into the desert. On the verge of death, Max is saved by a group of kids who perceive him as their saviour who has featured in stories and hearsay for generations.

In essence, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome is an attempt at reimagining the story of Peter Pan in a post-apocalyptic setting, adding a dash of Lord of the Flies for good measure. Although it may seem like an interesting idea in theory, execution is slipshod. There are two stories jammed into this one picture, but they are so awkwardly merged that the sudden change in narrative focus may cause whiplash. Beyond Thunderdome should have been all about Bartertown, with Max determined to overthrow Aunty Entity without enlisting the help a bunch of whiny infants. The movie's initial gladiatorial and political underpinnings show promise, as such ideas provide a new area for this post-apocalyptic series to explore, but the movie does fuck all with them.

Chief among the sins of Beyond Thunderdome is that it betrays its predecessors, both of which were hardcore "Ozploitation" flicks that were screened at seedy grindhouse cinemas. This third film, on the other hand, is a PG-13 sell-out of a once-brilliant franchise, retaining the proclivity for colourful production design but toning down the violence and adding a bunch of children, taking the edge off the material. Beyond Thunderdome starts out well enough, but the kids are a deal-breaker, with the Lord of the Flies stuff feeling totally out of place in a Mad Max film. It's humiliating to see the rugged titular antihero as a nanny. If there really had to be children in this tale, they should have all been mute and feral, reminiscent of the Feral Kid from Mad Max 2. Furthermore, the movie features a handful of Tina Turner songs, the most obvious instance of studio tampering. Turner is not a bad singer, but her musical stylings in no way fit the post-apocalyptic landscape of this universe. It doesn't work. Beyond Thunderdome is Mad Max in name only, an outrage on the same pitiful level as RoboCop 3 and Die Hard 4.0.

It would not be fair to blame Miller for the awfulness of Beyond Thunderdome. Following the death of his long-time collaborator Byron Kennedy, Miller began to lose interest in the project, and although he had a hand in the screenplay, he only directed the action sequences. Indeed, the blame for Beyond Thunderdome belongs elsewhere. In all likelihood, co-director George Ogilvie (who went on to direct... absolutely nothing) is the one who fucked it up, though this being a studio film probably didn't help matters. Focus is one of the main things that this sequel lacks - it's longer than its predecessors by about ten minutes, yet it feels twice as long. It meanders all over the place, wandering from one incident to the next before trying to tie everything together with a climactic chase that feels like a case of "been there, done that" after Mad Max 2. And it's nowhere near as thrilling or heart-stopping - in fact, it ultimately grows monotonous. Added to this, composer Brian May was replaced with Maurice Jarre, and the resultant score is just not the same. It's not Mad Max. Especially when the kids are introduced, the music becomes too saccharine, and the soundtrack can never reach the pulse-pounding heights of May's superb work on Mad Max 2. It's closer to The Goonies, for fuck's sake.

The one constant which remains top-notch in Beyond Thunderdome is Gibson as the titular Max. He has the character down to a tee, with minimalist dialogue and his rugged demeanour making him an eminently interesting antihero. It's awkward to watch Max softening up whilst in the company of the children, but Gibson does what he can with the material. It's not his fault. Also starring in the movie is Turner herself... Let's just say it's understandable that she has only had a starring role in one other major motion picture since this movie. None of the other thespians are worth talking about, especially not the irritating kids who ruin the film.

To the credit of Miller, Beyond Thunderdome does feature a few entertaining action beats, and there are scenes and ideas which shine from time to time, but on the whole, this third Mad Max instalment is a dismal misfire. Worse, its narrative eventually comes to an abrupt conclusion that will leave you feeling empty and unsatisfied. It would be interesting to see what the movie could've been with Miller being the sole driver of the ship, and without all of the annoying little brats. Even though the movie was surprisingly well-received back in 1985, it has not dated well at all.

4.2/10

"The warrior Max... In the roar of an engine, he lost everything... and became a shell of a man... a burnt-out, desolate man, a man haunted by the demons of his past, a man who wandered out into the wasteland. And it was here, in this blighted place, that he learned to live again."

It is indeed rare to behold a sequel which surpasses its predecessor, but Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior is a textbook illustration of such a case. Furthermore, this follow-up to the low-budget 1979 Australian grindhouse gem stands as a phenomenal achievement as a standalone motion picture, a gonzo post-apocalyptic action-adventure that remains one of this reviewer's personal all-time favourites. With a bigger budget, Mad Max 2 takes full advantage of its premise, yielding an organic continuation of the original movie as well as an amazing Ozploitation actioner on its own merits. The scope is bigger, the production values are sublime, the filmmaking is more proficient, and plenty of vehicles are wrecked - Mad Max 2 stays true to its B-movie roots whilst adding a bit of polish, and the result is pure dynamite.

Several years have elapsed since Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) lost his wife and child, and in the interim, civilisation has deteriorated completely. World War III broke out, and its effects on society were irreversible. No cities remain, law enforcement services have vanished, and petrol has become the world's most valuable commodity. Danger and uncertainty have become part of Max's daily routine, with every day a struggle to find sufficient food and fuel to survive just a little bit longer. Traversing the desolate landscape in his V8 Interceptor, Max happens upon a fortified oil refinery with plenty of precious "juice," but a gang of vicious murderers are determined to get their hands on it, threatening to kill everyone if their demands are not met. The colony wishes to take their gas and leave, thus Max strikes a deal with them: he will secure a big rig truck to haul the fuel in exchange for as much petrol as he can carry. However, the marauders - who have set up a camp nearby - are not willing to let anyone escape.

One does not need to have watched the original movie in order to "get" this sequel. Mad Max 2 actually begins with a skilful black-and-white montage of images set to voiceover narration that outlines the events leading up the collapse of society, and effectively re-introduces us to Max by recapping the first film. What's particularly notable about Mad Max 2 is its concise storytelling and breakneck pace, both of which are achieved without neglecting crucial character or story development. It's a model of efficiency, and it's so fast-paced and deliriously enjoyable that its ninety-minute duration simply flies by. It's over before you realise it, and you're left begging for more, a sign that this is one fucking badass movie.

The real star of Mad Max 2 is, of course, the stunt work. Returning director George Miller uses all the extra funds at his disposal (the budget was over $2 million whereas the first movie was produced for barely $200,000) to create a joyously crazy action picture peppered with multiple car chases. There is not a single bit of CGI to be seen here; Mad Max 2 is the result of stuntmen putting their lives on the line for a sake of a shot. It's hard to believe that nobody involved in the production wasn't severely maimed or killed, given how bonkers many of the stunts look to be. (Only one stuntman was injured.) Naturally, it's the twenty-minute climactic chase which closes the picture that really shines, with at least twenty-five vehicles barrelling down a desert highway at insane speeds. Although it's a lengthy sequence, Miller and cinematographer Dean Semlar sustain the chase, continually upping the ante and maintaining an edge-of-your-seat level of tension. There are a few shots which were obviously sped up, but such moments are all part of the feature's goofy charm. It's all topped off by a pounding soundtrack courtesy of Brian May, who also scored the 1979 movie.

Luckily, production design remains as colourful as ever, with imaginative vehicles and awesomely inventive costumes. Max's V8 Interceptor is one of the most iconic vehicles in cinema history, and its inclusion here is most welcome. The Interceptor which was used for the first film was actually salvaged and re-used here, a small detail that's nevertheless appreciated. Mad Max 2 continues the strong western theme of this series, finding Max as the archetypical, morally ambiguous antihero in the same vein as Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name. Max is even more of an antihero here than ever before, as he is no longer bound by his duty as a police officer. Unsurprisingly, Gibson nails the role yet again, relying more on stern facial expressions and restrained dialogue delivery. The cast is jam-packed full of colourful faces, from Bruce Spence as Max's new ally, to Vernon Wells (Bennett from Commando!) as one of the campy bad guys.

The original Mad Max was a niche release in the United States, hence this sequel was renamed The Road Warrior by its North American distributor to avoid any confusion. Miller has actually said that he has always considered Mad Max 2 as a chance to re-do Mad Max properly, with the benefit of a bigger budget and more directorial experience. The first film remains a classic, but Mad Max 2 is definitely superior, an infinitely enjoyable guy flick that's literally never boring. This may be an action movie built on a thin premise, but movies of this ilk are all about the execution, and they do not come much more thrilling or exhilarating than this.

10/10

"What an inspiration to girls all over the country who are too ugly to be cheerleaders!"

Back in 2012, Pitch Perfect defied all rational expectations, turning a can't-win proposition of a Glee-inspired college comedy-cum-musical into pure gold. Fortunately, 2015's Pitch Perfect 2 pulls off a comparable miracle, overcoming the law of diminishing returns for a riotously funny follow-up that stands as a wonderful companion piece to its sleeper hit of a predecessor. Once again penned by Kay Cannon, though this time directed by Elizabeth Banks, Pitch Perfect 2 has a firm grasp on what worked for the original movie: quirky characters spouting witty dialogue, intercut with catchy, well-rehearsed a cappella musical performances. This is actually the funniest movie of 2015 so far, serving up several belly-laughs in the first five minutes alone. From the very beginning, it's clear Pitch Perfect 2 is a winner.

Following a performance in front of President Obama that goes haywire, the Barden Bellas are in disgrace, banned from domestic a cappella competitions. However, the girls are given a shot at redemption; they will be reinstated if they can win the World Championships in Copenhagen, a feat that has never been pulled off by an American team in history. In order to win, the Bellas face stiff competition in the form of Das Sound Machine, a leather-clad, supremely confident German a cappella troupe with a refined sound. As the Bellas work to improve themselves, Beca (Anna Kendrick) begins to pursue other interests, scoring an internship at a local record company that could help her fulfil her dream of being a music producer.

Pitch Perfect 2 takes the series to its next logical step, finding Beca and other girls approaching graduation while long-time Bella member Chloe (Brittany Snow) admits that she has purposely failed her exams multiple times to stay at the University and remain in the group. Beca's personal life is also probed further, as she maintains a relationship with Jesse (Skylar Astin) and feels out her record company internship. To be sure, the storytelling is all standard-order stuff, with a predictable narrative outcome from the outset, but it all works - it's so much fun that you barely notice the clichéd broad strokes, much less be bothered by them. Besides, there is some genuine pathos here, not to mention a strong sense of sisterhood that's achieved not through obvious "girl power" tropes but rather by developing distinct characters who feel like real friends. In fact, barely any time is spent observing the rehearsal process - Pitch Perfect 2 is mostly comprised of vignettes that develop the characters and provide a tonne of belly-laughs. Admittedly, the flick is a bit long in the tooth, running at a rather gargantuan 115 minutes, but this isn't a major issue.

Zippy and slick, Pitch Perfect 2 is actually funnier than the first movie, which might be attributable to having a woman at the helm. For a first-time director, Banks (who produced and had a supporting role in the 2012 film) is astonishingly assured, showing an amazing grasp of comic timing and pacing. Whereas a lot of American comedies like The Heat are notoriously undisciplined and full of overdone improvisation, Pitch Perfect 2 keeps the actors on a tight leash. This is a long movie, yeah, but only because there's a lot of story material to work through, not because performers spend five minutes on one joke. As for the soundtrack, Pitch Perfect 2 does a great job of upholding its predecessor's reputation - covers of songs like Miley Cyrus' "Wrecking Ball" are hugely enjoyable, while the finale features an original track entitled "Flashlight" that's guaranteed to rack up millions of hits on YouTube. One of the big highlights is a five-way a cappella showdown that manages to be both catchy and riotously funny, while the climax is a genuine show-stopper, topping the previous movie with seemingly little effort.

A lot of laughs are provided by the extremely non-PC John Michael Higgins and director Banks herself as a pair of broadcasters who deliver wry commentary on the a cappella performances. And, of course, Australian comedy heavyweight Rebel Wilson is enormously funny as Fat Amy - she delivers at least a dozen one-liners that are destined to be quoted non-stop by fans. Luckily, Wilson is not overused; Banks clearly realises that she's much funnier when utilised sporadically, as opposed to featuring in every scene. Meanwhile, Kendrick remains eminently disarming and occasionally funny, making for a strong dramatic anchor. The newcomers shine as well, with young Oscar nominee Hailee Steinfeld making a positive impression as a new addition to the Bellas. Comedy dynamite is also added in the form of Chrissie Fit as a beleaguered Mexican student who constantly reminds her Bella sisters of the (hilariously) hard life she's had. Further laughs, meanwhile, are provided by Keegan-Michael Key as Beca's new boss. And as the big hitters in Das Sound Machine, Birgitte Hjort Sørensen and Flula Borg happily embrace the caricatures that they are.

Comedy is subjective, but I laughed my ass off during Pitch Perfect 2, with tears streaming from my eyes, which is a big deal. It's a hilarious, enjoyable, skilfully-assembled joke-delivery system, beset with playful songs and plenty of goofy non-sequiturs and good-spirited gags. And it's aca-awesome.

8.2/10

"They say people don't believe in heroes anymore. Well, damn them! You and me, Max, we're gonna give 'em back their heroes!"

Assembled and released at the height of the "Ozploitation" craze of the '70s and '80s, Mad Max was a genuine diamond in the rough, a low-budget dark horse of a movie which developed into a box office smash. Here is a vehemently manly, violent post-apocalyptic action movie notable for the sheer creativity of its construction. The brainchild of George Miller and Byron Kennedy, Mad Max's future world is not full of lavish technology like Blade Runner, instead presenting a bleak, horrifyingly plausible vision of a post-apocalyptic world where the law and order is fading amid pure chaos. It's a movie of eccentric characters, imaginative camerawork, insane action scenes and unique production design, yet it also feels like there's nary a wasted moment - every scene and moment builds to a cohesive whole.

The titular Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) is a highway patrolman in the future. Although law enforcement still exists in some capacity, civilisation has essentially deteriorated, giving rise to vicious gangs who run rampant, killing and murdering on a whim. After a high-speed car chase ends with the death of a gang member known as Nightrider (Vincent Neil), his comrades take it upon themselves to track down Max and his buddies in the Main Force Patrol (MFP). Led by a thug who calls himself the Toecutter (Hugh Keays-Byrne), the gang eventually set their sights on Max's family, wife Jessie (Joanne Samuel) and infant son Sprog (Brendan Heath), which ignites a vendetta of vengeance for the MFP officer.

For what is essentially an exploitative action flick, Mad Max is not all about car chases, instead spending a fair amount of time with Max and his family to give the antihero a sympathetic edge before he goes, well, mad. Miller, who co-wrote and directed the picture, develops a tender relationship between Max and Jessie, which gives a spark of genuine intensity to the final third when Max looks to exact revenge on the Toecutter's gang. Miller also imbues the feature with a streak of laconic, dark humour to offset how disturbing this future truly is. Additionally, the often unusual character names (Sprog, Goose, etc.) and the quirky costumes add further texture to this highly peculiar world.

An Australian native, Miller is and always has been a complete lunatic of a moviemaker in the best possible way, consistently pushing the boundaries of what's possible on a budget through dangerous camera gymnastics and insane, high-risk stunts. Without much financing, Miller and director of photography David Eggsby get major plaudits for the sheer ingenuity of the picture - Miller himself even rode on the back of a motorcycle for one shot, and cameras were attached to cars in the most budget-friendly fashion possible. The result is pure dynamite, a feature with an understandably limited scope that still has the power to generate a rare kind of thrill all these years on. In an age of glossy, high-budget blockbusters, Mad Max is exhilarating because everything had to be achieved practically - the thrilling car mayhem was executed by real stuntman putting their lives on the line, not CGI.

As the film was created without major studio backing, post-production for Mad Max took place in a small lounge room, with Miller and his collaborators employing a DIY editing machine. It's a genuinely impressive feat, rendered all the better by the truly superb editing - the dramatic scenes may not be the greatest, but the action sequences are fast and furious. Mad Max was a controversial movie upon release, banned in some territories and heavily cut in others. Yet, in comparison to more recent productions, there is not a great deal of graphic violence here. This is a testament to Miller's skill as a cinematic craftsman; he generates a sense of disturbing brutality through creative editing, aided by the overly melodramatic but nevertheless effective score by Brian May.

Mad Max is notable for introducing the world to a then-unknown actor named Mel Gibson. He looks extremely young here, with a smooth face and bright eyes - he was a mere 21 years of age during principal photography. While Gibson's performance is not as robust here as his work on future projects like Lethal Weapon or Braveheart, he's still a charismatic, masculine presence, and there are emotional underpinnings to his work that makes the story somewhat affecting. Max is the very definition of an antihero, as he needs to jettison every vestige of his humanity and become just as cold and depraved as the Toecutter's gang to bring down the monsters. And speaking of the Toecutter, he's a very colourful villain, played perfectly by Keays-Byrne (who will also be playing the baddie role in 2015's Mad Max: Fury Road). The whole ensemble of bad guys steal the show, from Gill's manic Nightrider to Tim Burns' dim-witted Johnny the Boy. The performance are menacing and animalistic yet also amusing, a rare achievement indeed. Mad Max was notoriously dubbed for the American market, as the distributors were concerned about the Australian accents. Of course, the result of such preposterous efforts remains more of a historical curiosity; the best way to experience this Aussie gem is with its original soundtrack.

Years on, Mad Max endures as an Ozploitation classic elevated by insane car chases and stunts, yet the build-up never quite pays off properly. The climax is badass, to be sure, but you can be forgiven for wanting more. Ultimately, the movie feels like a set up for the superior sequel, Mad Max 2 a.k.a. The Road Warrior, though this doesn't diminish this first instalment's merits.

7.9/10

"I know you're good people. I know you mean well. But you just didn't think it through. There is only one path to peace... your extermination."

The culmination of Marvel's Phase Two, and of the Marvel Cinematic Universe in general thus far, 2015's Avengers: Age of Ultron is definitely a bigger movie than 2012's The Avengers, but not necessarily better. Returning as writer-director for this go-round is God of Geekdom Joss Whedon, who crafts an intriguing twist on the Frankenstein story with shades of Pinocchio. Although Age of Ultron delivers all the requisite large-scale action sequences that we've come to expect from a $250 million blockbuster, it's a bit on the dull side, and not nearly as much fun as the 2012 mega-hit that preceded it. There's lots of flash and talent but less magic and less heart.

To lighten the load for the Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), with the input of Bruce Banner/The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), develops an intricate A.I. program named Ultron (James Spader) intended to form the basis for a peacekeeping initiative. However, Ultron is born with a distorted view of humans, ignoring his creator in favour of pursuing his own mission to bring about mankind's extinction. Thus, Stark, Banner and their assorted pals - including Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans), Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), and Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) - assemble for a seemingly unwinnable fight against Ultron and his two gifted henchmen, twins Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen).

As with the original Avengers, Whedon came into the picture with plenty of baggage to deal with after the unexpectedly crazy events of Phase Two. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. has dissolved, Stark's future at the end of Iron Man 3 seemed uncertain, and Thor has a lot on his plate, to say nothing of the other Avengers. There's almost an entire motion picture's worth of baggage, but Whedon wisely opts to skip the aftermath of Phase Two and dive directly into the meat and potatoes of this story. Age of Ultron finds the superheroes working cooperatively as a team, proudly calling themselves The Avengers and living in their own HQ bankrolled by Stark. Naturally, this status quo is not destined to last, and the ending paves the way for the impending Phase Three, with Thor's next solo effort directly set up, and with more characters being inducted into the team.

There are plenty of colourful action sequences throughout, but Whedon again aims to produce a more substantial experience than something like Transformers. At about the midway point, the proceedings slow down as the heroes gather themselves following a particularly harrowing engagement. With Stark, Rogers and Thor all headlining their own solo films, Age of Ultron is mostly concerned with Barton, Banner and Romanoff. Jeremy Renner publically expressed his dissatisfaction with the handling of Hawkeye in The Avengers, and Whedon visibly took notice, hence this second instalment delves into Barton's personal life and relationships. However, Age of Ultron lacks the emotional heft that elevated its predecessor - there is a fatality here like Agent Coulson's temporary death, but it's not as affecting. Moreover, it's inherently jarring to witness the Avengers taking on Ultron when he is Stark's creation. Thus, while the Avengers are necessary to eliminate the maniacal A.I. program, they are cleaning up a mess that's wholly their fault. At the very least, Whedon could have done something interesting with this, perhaps setting up more conflict between the teammates that will lead into Captain America: Civil War, but such moralistic debates are eschewed.

2012's The Avengers was a joyous victory lap for the folks at Marvel, with Whedon infusing the original picture with a sense of pure ecstasy. Age of Ultron, on the other hand, is a grimmer beast, with a dark tone closer to Man of Steel than the first Avengers. Ultron's lack of remorse and humanity in his bid to bring about mankind's extinction makes this an inherently darker story, but it's a bit drab and leaden as a consequence, in need of the spark of danger and urgency that characterised Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Tension is mostly lacking in the big action set-pieces, too, which are enjoyable but never thoroughly involving or edge-of-your-seat. Perhaps the biggest issue with the climax is that there's no nail-biting urgency or ticking clock. Too much time is spent watching civilians being evacuated that's frankly too on-the-nose, as if Whedon was conscious to avoid the same criticisms surrounding Man of Steel. It just feels like Ultron is actually letting the Avengers evacuate everyone and foil his plot to wipe out mankind when he should be upping the ante and making it far more difficult for the mighty superhero team to save the world.

Whedon's defining trait, of course, is witty bantering, and he delivers again with Age of Ultron, serving up plenty of laughs amid the spectacle. Stark remains a one-liner machine, and there's a particularly fun party sequence not long into the movie that spotlights the Avengers mingling with other supporting players from the MCU (though Natalie Portman's Jane and Gwyneth Paltrow's Pepper are noticeably and awkwardly absent). However, some of the humour winds up feeling incredibly forced, and that’s a problem.

There is a tremendous ensemble of characters here, but Whedon manages to give them all a proper place in the story and action scenes. Leading the ensemble is the perpetually-reliable Downey Jr., who's growing older but nevertheless remains a flamboyant, amusing, charismatic Tony Stark, and one cannot help but ponder how drab the MCU will be when he inevitably departs. The likes of Evans, Hemsworth, and Renner are fine, but it's Ruffalo who shines here, given more to do and more depth to his character. As Banner's love interest of sorts, Johansson also takes advantage of her larger place in the story. As for the newcomers, Taylor-Johnson and Olsen (yes, they played husband/wife in Godzilla and play brother/sister here) both excel, but it's Spader who will have everyone talking. Ultron is an insanely sinister villain, voiced to perfection by the veteran actor. Whereas Loki is charming and conniving, Ultron is an outright menace, a mechanical madman with no sense of humanity or remorse. He's a relentless Terminator-like cyborg who can transfer his consciousness to another body at the drop of a hat and has access to the internet and all of Stark's files.

Age of Ultron remains a tour de force of blockbuster filmmaking from a technical perspective, with Whedon gripping us from the outset - the movie opens with a masterful tracking shot that re-introduces us to the main players, travelling from one Avenger to the next in the middle of combat. The dreaded shaky-cam syndrome does not rear its ugly head; Whedon relies on skilful choreography and precise framing, letting us watch and enjoy the action on display. On top of this, digital effects remain top-notch - the motion capture Hulk is especially astounding. This is easily the most real, lifelike Incredible Hulk we have ever seen on-screen, with detailed skin texture and movement that makes him seem alive and tangible. Age of Ultron carries a different aesthetic to its predecessor, mostly staying out of the United States for scenes in South Africa, Korea and other countries, not to mention the cinematography is darker in comparison to the vibrant, colourful look of its forerunner. The production's digital photography never looks quite right, however - fantasy and comic book films of old were lensed on celluloid, which afforded a beautiful cinematic texture. Digital photography, on the other hand, looks too glossy, which, in turn, makes it look less real.

Alan Silvestri's memorable Avengers theme does pop up once or twice, but for the most part, Brian Tyler's original compositions are insanely generic and forgettable; they do not amplify the visuals in any considerable way, nor do they even entirely suit the picture at times, which is disappointing considering Tyler's superlative contributions to Iron Man 3 and Thor: The Dark World.

Age of Ultron is not as exhilarating or as involving as this reviewer had hoped for, and there are a few nitpicky things here and there that may have biased armchair critics chattering, but on the whole, it's an entertaining blockbuster and a solid enough continuation of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It has big action scenes that unfussy viewers will enjoy, and this is a review-proof movie anyway. As per usual, be sure to stick around for a mid-credits teaser of things to come (nothing at the end of the credits), which will probably make you feel depressed that the next Avengers film is three years away (and you'll need to wait an additional year on top of that for Part Two).

6.9/10

"We're gonna make sure that coming to America was the worst decision Viktor Dragovic ever made!"

Skin Trade delivers on expectations. It does not exactly exceed them, but it does not disappoint, which is a big deal considering what's at stake here. After all, it is a direct-to-video affair with one hell of a cast, including Expendables luminary Dolph Lundgren, Thai superstar Tony Jaa, former RoboCop Peter Weller, Hellboy star Ron Perlman, and the perpetually reliable Michael Jai White. Luckily, instead of a schlocky waste of time like Blood of Redemption or Ambushed, Skin Trade has the skill and know-how to deliver as a bruising B-movie actioner. It also functions as something of a public service announcement about the hideous human trafficking industry, with the movie giving us something to chew on as we enjoy the carnage, violence, and explosions.

Seeking to take down sinister Siberian human trafficker Viktor Dragovic (Perlman), New York Cop Nick Cassidy (Lundgren) kills Dragovic's beloved son in a tense shootout. After Dragovic weasels his way out of police custody, he comes after Cassidy, destroying his house and attacking his family. The assault leaves Cassidy shaken and determined to exact revenge, going outside the law in his mission for retribution. Travelling to Cambodia, Cassidy crosses paths with young Thai detective Tony Vitayakul (Jaa), but the pair are reluctant to trust one another.

It's clear that Skin Trade genuinely is a case of "If you want something done right, do it yourself." Lundgren initially penned the screenplay all the way back in 2007, and when the film finally came together, the actor maintained plenty of responsibility, serving as a producer on his pet project, though he left directorial duties to Thai filmmaker Ekachai Uekrongtham. Skin Trade unfolds pretty much as you would anticipate, fulfilling perfunctory story and character development before getting into the relentless action sequences. There are a few twists and turns throughout the narrative, but it thankfully never devolves into convoluted nonsense. At 90 minutes, this is a beautifully lean movie, and, surprisingly, the ending is not an outright happy one; it's open-ended, which both reinforces how many souls are lost due to human trafficking, and leaves room for a sequel if one is ever ordered (which would be an enticing prospect).

Today's action movies are digital all over, with movies like Battle of the Damned and Blood of Redemption even stooping to the offensive level of digital muzzle flashes (no blank rounds are fired anymore), and with CGI blood rearing its ugly head in most every recent action movie. Thankfully, Skin Trade is more old-school; performers are visibly shooting blanks, and bullet hits are practical. It's such a small thing, but it's rarely done correctly, hence the effort is very much appreciated. Moreover, while there may be digital touch-ups here and there, nothing looks phoney or outright CGI. Hell, there's even a helicopter crash during the finale which looks like the result of practical effects! Most of the explosions and flames look real, too. Skin Trade is very much an '80s movie in spirit, though its tone is perhaps more dour than most productions from that era. While the dialogue doesn't sparkle as brightly as something like Lethal Weapon, there are a few nice one-liners peppered throughout.

The action as a whole in Skin Trade is satisfying, with shootouts, chases, and some hand-to-hand fights, all of which were pulled off with sufficient panache by director Uekrongtham. We can actually see what's happening, and the body count is pretty considerable. Unlike the PG-13 family-friendly flicks we see so often, Skin Trade is a hard R, almost effortlessly so, pulling no punches in its depiction of graphic violence or the bleak realities of the human trafficking industry. There are even a few gory deaths that left this reviewer giddy with joy. Furthermore, production values are strong considering the production's reported $9 million budget, with slick visuals courtesy of cinematographer Ben Nott (Predestination, Daybreakers). Skin Trade is a theatrical quality actioner, and it certainly deserves a wide cinema release more than some guff that has polluted multiplexes recently.

Tony Jaa was grossly misused for his English-language debut in Furious 7, lost amid a congested ensemble cast where he was unable to do much. But Jaa's second billing here is appropriate, as he is indeed allotted a major role in the proceedings. His acting is admittedly a bit stilted and lacking in confidence like most Asian performers making their English debut, but he compensates for these shortcomings with his insane fighting skills. The Ong-bak sequels and The Protector 2 were unforgivable, with the latter actually featuring some piss-poor fights, but the throwdowns in Skin Trade are awesome. A brawl with Lundgren is admittedly a bit over-edited, but it's brutal and viscerally exciting nevertheless. But the jewel in the movie's crown is Jaa's one-on-one with Michael Jai White - both men are proficient real-life fighters, and their battle is incredible, with smooth camerawork properly showcasing the respective abilities of the two men. It's certainly better than anything from last year's The Expendables 3.

Dolph often puts more effort into his performances if he directs the picture as well. Although he only produced Skin Trade, the project was very close to his heart, resulting in a very focused performance here that ranks among his best in the last couple of decades. It's a suitable role for the Dolphster, and he runs with it. His pain is very evident when he loses his family, and he seems visibly affected as he looks upon the women and children locked up in cages (Dolph has said that, to get into character, he thought about how he would feel if his young daughters were in there). Dolph interacts well with Jaa, and the rest of the actors submit solid contributions across the board. Perlman is a borderline cartoon, but in a good way, and he's a terrific villain. Rounding out the cast are Weller and White, who are a bit underused but nevertheless hit their marks confidently.

With a bigger budget and an extra hand in the scripting department, Skin Trade could have been a profound action-thriller akin to Blood Diamond. As Dolph himself admits, though, the finished product is vehemently a violent action fiesta, albeit one with a bit more on its mind than your typical B-movie. It fulfils its modest ambitions, and does so without the usual pitfalls associated with modern DTV productions. It's clichéd and silly, and some moments are a tad awkward, but on the whole, it's a wholesome, entertaining action movie, and that's exactly what I wanted.

7.2/10

"It's good to cry. It separates us from the animals. Shows you have a soul."

There was once a time when a new Kevin Smith project was cause for genuine excitement and curiosity, with the indie filmmaker churning out a steady stream of clever comedies in the '90s, beginning with his breakout effort Clerks. But starting with the 2010 turkey Cop Out, Smith's flicks have become less and less impressive, and his downward spiral continues with 2014's Tusk, a movie based on a random conversation from one of Smith's many podcasts. Smith evidently wanted to craft an earnest, Cronenbergian body horror movie in the vein of The Human Centipede about a guy transforming into a walrus, but he does not quite have the skill to get there. Rather than an earnest, honest-to-goodness, bad yet incredible find of a gem, Tusk is a slickly-produced, highly calculated attempt at factory-building an artificial version of what amounts to found art. Amusing schlocky horrors need to happen by accident - fake versions like this simply do not work. At the beginning of his career, Smith compensated for lack of budget and style by writing sparkling dialogue and engaging comedic vignettes, but now he creates polished, crisp visuals supplemented by shoddy writing.

A podcaster, Wallace (Justin Long) and partner Teddy (Haley Joel Osment) run the Not-See Podcast, which celebrates and mocks viral videos and eccentric people. Seeking to interview a peculiar young man who recently became internet famous, Wallace travels to Canada but finds that he's too late. Scrambling to make something of the expensive trip, Wallace spies an ad in a men's room which piques his interest, and travels to the middle of nowhere to meet enigmatic raconteur Howard (Michael Parks). Before long, Howard drugs Wallace, handicapping him to prevent him from escaping the estate. As it turns out, Howard has plans to turn his victim into a kind walrus from his past. But Wallace's disappearance soon attracts the attention of Teddy and Wallace's girlfriend, Allison (Genesis Rodriguez), who travel to Canada and enlist the help of a private detective (Johnny Depp) to find their friend.

Like Red State, Tusk is more effective in its early stages. The story's set-up works to some extent, and there are notable scenes bolstered by the stylish photography which makes terrific use of shadows. It would seem that Smith was endeavouring to prove that he could be a legitimate filmmaker, taking the patently ludicrous concept with a straight face...for a little while. Smith eventually shifts gears to settle into a more comedic, screwball tone, and this is a big problem - the comedy falls completely flat (which is hugely alarming in a Kevin Smith movie), and it does not successfully coalesce with the dour, gritty horror tone. It's all over the shop. And even though the photography is incredibly slick throughout the first two acts, the entire enterprise is still rather bland overall. Smith's attempt at generating chilling horror amounts to a lot of indulgent chatter and plenty of grimness - but it's not especially scary, nail-biting or even chilling. Rather, it's just pretty fucking dour.

Impossibly, the biggest problem here is Depp, who sneaks his way into the project to place forth his most insufferably grating performance to date. Quirky characters are Depp's modus operandi, but he's way out of his depth here, with a faux French(?) accent and exaggerated mannerisms growing incredibly annoying, as if he were the retarded brother of Inspector Clouseau. (A scene of Depp interacting with Parks, who disguises his voice, goes on too long and made me want to hit the mute button.) Oddly, Smith's entire filmmaking style suddenly changes with Depp's introduction, giving over to campy, oddball theatrics (scored to Fleetwood Mac, of all things) rather than the patient, quietly sinister atmosphere that Smith was apparently aiming for in the first half. Worse, the final scene tries to add some profundity to the proceedings, but it's enormously ineffective.

When Smith finds a thespian that he likes, he hangs onto them for dear life, with Parks leaning on exactly the same style of acting that characterised his Red State appearance. But just like Red State, Smith is so enamoured with Parks' monologues that he simply must let the man talk and talk to no end. Tusk runs 100 minutes, but it could have easily been trimmed to 80 minutes if only Smith was more disciplined towards Parks (and Depp, for that matter, whose introductory scene also drags on past its natural closure point).

Credit is due, though, to the astounding make-up effects, with Long convincingly turned into a sea creature as a result of some gruesome surgery. Long sells the hell out of the material, with his incredible ego showing through in the early stages as a podcaster with legions of fans before becoming outright terrified as he falls into Howard's hands. And as a walrus? Long does well. The rest of the cast hit their marks effectively enough, with a now grown-up Osment borderline unrecognisable as Wallace's partner in crime. Ultimately, however, Tusk is a big swing and miss. Smith had announced that he was going to produce Clerks 3 before retiring from the filmmaking business because he did not feel he had any talent, but Tusk reignited something, and now he seems determined to further tarnish his reputation. Tusk is the beginning of a "Canada Trilogy" for Smith, with other entries set to land over the next few years. Whatever Smith is trying to get out of his system, I just hope he does it quickly.

5.1/10

"This time it ain't just about being fast."

Franchise fatigue is beginning to set in with 2015's Fast & Furious 7 (or Furious 7, continuing the tradition of confusing and inconsistent titles), the latest entry in this long-running series of car-based blockbusters. After the franchise received a fresh boost of life with the unbelievably great fifth instalment in 2011, the cookie-cutter formula is becoming stale once again, even though there's fresh blood in the form of Australian horror luminary James Wan replacing series mainstay Justin Lin. It's impossible to review Furious 7 without discussing its troubled production - originally set for release in 2014, less than a year after Furious 6 hit multiplexes, the team lost star Paul Walker to a fatal car crash before filming wrapped, leaving Wan and returning screenwriter Chris Morgan to figure out how to complete the picture without its long-time lead. Furious 7 is fundamentally review-proof since it fulfils all that's required of it, but at this point in the series, a little more effort would be appreciated.

After his brother was paralysed and left in hospital following the last adventure, master black ops assassin Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) is determined to exact revenge on Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his crew. Shaw makes his presence known with a bang, putting Agent Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) in critical condition and sending Han (Sung Kang) to the morgue before setting off a bomb in L.A. that almost kills Dominic, his sister Mia (Jordana Brewster), and his old pal Brian (Walker). Into the fray soon steps Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell), an enigmatic government agent who enlists the help of Dominic and co. to retrieve the powerful God's Eye program designed by a hacker named Ramsey (Nathalie Emmanuel). If they help out Mr. Nobody, they can use the God's Eye to find Shaw. Thus, Dominic and the usual suspects - including Roman (Tyrese Gibson), Letty (Michelle Rodriguez), and Tej (Ludacris) - head overseas, but they are unable to escape the shadow of Shaw, who enlists the help of terrorist Jakande (Djimon Hounsou) and his team of gunmen.

Statham is a tremendous villain who represents a major threat to the cast, and his abilities are showcased in a vicious early brawl against the behemoth Hobbs. But Morgan's screenplay doesn't trust in the standard revenge formula, concocting an overly convoluted storyline involving a high-tech device and a team of terrorists led by the vaguely-defined Jakande, who's naturally out to kill Dominic's crew and obtain the God's Eye. Such secondary content was evidently included to allow for high-speed heist sequences and other sorts of car mayhem that we have come to expect from the series, but it feels too forced and leaden as a result, in need of snappier pacing and a stronger sense of urgency. (And seriously, the car stuff might be this franchise's bread and butter, but it is starting to get old.) Plus, the crew are only out to retrieve the God's Eye to make it easier to track down Shaw, which seems superfluous since he's perpetually showing up wherever they go.

Furious 7 is the longest entry in the franchise so far, clocking in at a colossal 140 minutes, and it certainly feels its length. Morgan, who has written all instalments since Tokyo Drift, sticks by all the proverbial franchise chestnuts, giving the cast ample time to grunt atrocious dialogue at each other (every second word is still "family") in between all the big action sequences. Diesel takes the lead here and does most of the heavy lifting, which may have been out of necessity after Walker's death, paving the way for the actor to take over the franchise.

The major selling point of this saga has always been its reliance on practical effects and real car stunts. If anyone were to continue this tradition, it would be Wan, a man from the school of low-budget filmmaking whose previous action outing, Death Sentence, was vehemently old-fashioned. Unfortunately, Furious 7 is more reliant on CGI, which detracts from the sense of excitement. Sure, there are still impressive car stunts here, and people are still risking their lives for various shots, but there are also digital effects here, and they are obvious.

Thankfully, there are nevertheless some entertaining action sequences to behold, most notably when Wan leaves the cars and allows the characters to engage in fisticuffs and shootouts. Statham is a gifted fighter, and he's well-matched with both Johnson and Diesel. To Wan's credit, the fights are not one-sided - Statham is not some untalented patsy but a genuine threat who matches his opponents every step of the way. To spice up the action, Thai martial artist Tony Jaa shows up as an enforcer for Jakande who mostly brawls with Walker. It's a bit of a throwaway role, and Wan doesn't take full advantage of Jaa's immense talents as a fighter, often burying the action in edits and frenetic camerawork. It defeats the purpose of casting Jaa, really. MMA star Rousey shares a similar fate, and to make matters worse, she is a truly terrible actress, showing once again after The Expendables 3 that she cannot cut it as a thespian.

The big question on everyone's lips is how Walker is treated, with scenes filmed following his death featuring body doubles (most notably Walker's brothers) sporting a digital face. To the credit of the filmmakers, it is seamless, and it's never entirely clear when we're seeing a CGI Paul, but his presence is definitely dialled down; he's mostly in the background or shrouded by low lighting or restrictive camera angles. Luckily, Wan and Morgan have devised a fitting, respectful exit for Walker's Brian, with a loving tribute to the actor which closes the feature that may leave some with damp eyes. Some have decried that it's impossible to watch Walker in precarious scenarios driving real fast due to the circumstances of his tragic death, but Walker would likely be insulted by such haters - this is what he loved doing, and it's an appropriate end for his career.

Furious 7's cast is genuinely tremendous, with a lot of big names to stir up interest. Beyond the usual crew, there's Statham, Russell, Hounsou, and the aforementioned Jaa and Rousey. Say what you will about Statham's acting abilities, but he excels as an action star and has a strong screen presence. As the villain here, Statham is perfect, with a steely, cold demeanour making him spot-on as a ruthless military-trained killer. The Stath is so perfect, in fact, that you could be forgiven for rooting for him. Russell, meanwhile, is ideal here, showing that he still has what it takes to be a badass despite his advanced age. As for the returning cast, the likes of Walker, Rodriguez and Brewster are just fine. Tyrese Gibson, however, once again shows up as the try-hard comic relief, and he's awful. Surely there are sufficient funds in the budget for an actual comedian? Meanwhile, despite being such a major presence in the past couple of instalments, Dwayne Johnson is side-lined for most of the proceedings here, leaving us to suffer through scene after scene of Diesel, who is not an overly interesting or competent actor. Since the movie's events are tied into Tokyo Drift, Lucas Black returns as Sean Boswell, but his presence is mercifully short, amounting to a mere cameo. Black was intolerable in Tokyo Drift with his exaggerated American drawl, so it's a relief that he doesn't join the team or become a lead here.

Cars go real fast, explosions are big, and action is, well, furious, but Furious 7 is never hugely involving at any point due to its complicated, leaden storytelling. It's a typical Hollywood big-budget blockbuster, though at least it's not as abominable as Michael Bay's regular output. It would seem that Fast Five, in the long run, is more of a lucky fluke than genuine franchise revivification.

6.1/10

"Just because it's what's done doesn't mean it's what should be done!"

Cinderella represents the next step in Disney's master plan to create live-action motion pictures from their vast catalogue of animated classics, following in the shadow of Alice in Wonderland and last year's Maleficent. Directed by Kenneth Branagh (Thor, Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit), this Cinderella is easily the strongest upgrade so far, a dazzling fairytale with charm, heart, and intimacy to supplement the mandatory spectacle. Giving the reigns to Branagh certainly seems like a head-scratcher at first glance, yet he's the perfect man for the job, resulting in one of the most convincing fantasy films in years. Often low-key, the movie is not smeared with a disgusting amount of digital effects, and it manages to be child-friendly without directly pandering to the younger demographic. In fact, without the Disney branding or the aggressive marketing campaign, 2015's Cinderella could almost be an arthouse release. Sure, it has anthropomorphised mice and other fantastical touches, but Branagh doesn't overdo it, nor does he slather the movie in excess - effective drama and genuine feeling are the order of the day here.

The narrative remains virtually untouched, with scribe Chris Weitz creating a fairly traditional updating of Disney's animated film from 1950. Ella (Lily James) becomes an orphan following the death of her beloved parents (Hayley Atwell, Ben Chaplin), left in the care of her not-too-kindly stepmother Lady Tremaine (Cate Blanchett). Under Tremaine's regime, Ella is forced into hard labour, becoming a lowly maid for her stepmother and two grotesque step-sisters, Anastasia (Holiday Grainger) and Drizella (Sophie McShera). During a chance meeting with handsome royal prince Kit (Richard Madden), they form an instant connection, with the pair longing to see one another again. When the king (Derek Jacobi) encourages Kit to marry, a ball is arranged, with every woman in the kingdom invited to attend in order for the prince to choose a future queen. With Tremaine forbidding Ella from attending the ball and undermining her confidence, Ella's Fairy Godmother (Helena Bonham Carter) is called upon to help the girl reunite with the charming young man she wishes to marry.

Essentially, Branagh and Weitz have merely set out to tell a familiar story in a competent manner, and by all accounts, the end result is a resounding success. Anyone who’s intimately acquainted with the source material will not find many surprises here, but this is about the best live-action retelling of the fairytale that anyone could realistically expect. The most impressive aspect of the screenplay is that it gives unexpected depth to the characters; Kit and Ella do not fall in love out of Disney formula, but rather out of mutual attraction that develops organically. Moreover, Ella is not even aware that Kit is a prince during their first meeting; her heart aches for him not due to his royalty, but due to his personality. The romance is surprisingly poignant under Branagh's careful eye, and that climactic glass slipper moment is a joy to witness. Additionally, Weitz's script expounds upon a few aspects of the Cinderella story that we do not always see - including how Ella gets her Cinderella nickname - and there is an unexpected twist of conspiracy at the heart of the search for the prince's bride-to-be. Thus, while there are small alterations to the source, Branagh's treatment remains respectful and traditional.

Rather than the punishing grimness of Snow White and the Huntsman or the glossy, plastic look of Maleficent, Cinderella is more like a Shakespearean drama, reminiscent of Branagh's earlier features. As a matter of fact, the film is less successful when the trademark Disney touches pop-up, most notably in a scene featuring the Fairy Godmother that's much too broad. For the most part, however, Cinderella works. Beautifully lensed with 35mm film, the movie is endowed with a convincing look that serves the production well. Maleficent's digital look was a massive problem, as it was impossible to buy the fantastical world as real. But with a fine grain structure and a reliance on sets and costumes, Cinderella's fantasy world looks and feels real. It's rare to label any $95 million motion picture as modest, but this truly applies to Branagh's film; the budget certainly isn't as high as Maleficent ($180 million), Alice in Wonderland ($200 million) or Oz the Great and Powerful ($215 million). There is not a great deal of CGI here which is a massive advantage, as the small digital touches subtly enhance the visuals without calling attention to themselves.

Although there has been a lot of press about Lily James' impossibly thin figure, her grounded depiction of Cinderella is a huge asset to the film. There's superb humanity to her performance, as she comes across as a strong female trying to make the most of a bad situation while trying as hard as she can to retain her personal integrity and show kindness. Most of all, James possesses the beauty, grace and radiance to be a believable Cinderella. Alongside her, Madden is a terrific love interest, with a down-to-earth quality that makes him instantly sympathetic. He has no interest in the wealth or prestige of royalty, which is why he tries to hide his status from Cinderella when they first meet. Meanwhile, Blanchett's turn as the wicked stepmother is absolutely spot-on. At face value, her villainy is pure black-and-white, but there is some actual depth to the character, with justification for her rotten behaviour. Jacobi also deserves a special mention; he has little screen-time as the king and it feels like a throwaway role, but it's hard to imagine the movie being so spectacular without him.

As a little bonus for those venturing to cinemas, the movie is preceded by Frozen Fever, a short movie featuring the characters from Disney's 2013 hit Frozen. It's a sweet, charming short sure to please fans of the animated gem, featuring a new song that kids may be humming for days. It's fortunate that the short was attached to a movie as utterly satisfying as Cinderella, which should please the kids and not leave adults constantly staring at their watches. Other recent fairytale adaptations have been revisionist, but Cinderella is staunchly not revisionist, which is quite refreshing. It may seem paint-by-numbers, but Branagh infuses the story with emotion, which makes for rewarding viewing. With its gorgeous production design and ornate costuming, Cinderella is a joy, and its brisk ninety-minute runtime and competent pacing ensure that there's no narrative flab here. Indeed, the time simply flies by.

8.3/10

"I have lived most of my life surrounded by my enemies. I will be grateful to die among my friends."

It's undeniable that 2014's Guardians of the Galaxy represents Marvel Studio's most left-field production to date. Adapted from a mostly obscure Marvel series that has existed in various incarnations since the 1970s, this is not so much a superhero movie but rather a science fiction space opera closer to Star Wars than Iron Man. In truth, nobody expected much from Guardians of the Galaxy, and yet it's easily one of the best pictures in the Marvel canon, a riotously irreverent action-comedy set in a richly-textured, fully-realised world teeming with memorable characters and witty, humorous dialogue - the type of playful, jubilant and emotionally satisfying ride that once defined summer blockbusters before punishing grimness and bloated runtimes became so prevalent. Furthermore, it will be easy for non-Marvel fans and even non-comic book fans to engage in this quirky gem.

Abducted from Earth as an child right after the death of his beloved mother, Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) now roams the galaxy as a self-styled outlaw calling himself Star-Lord. Working for the Ravagers, led by the brutal Yondu (Michael Rooker), Quill happens upon an orb that's worth a mint and contains a source of devastating power. Also determined to retrieve the orb is green alien Gamora (Zoe Saldana), the adopted daughter of mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) who's in league with the incredibly dangerous Ronan (Lee Pace), another party interested in the orb. Meanwhile, goofy bounty hunters Rocket (Bradley Cooper) - a genetically-engineered raccoon - and Groot (Vin Diesel) - a tree-like humanoid with a limited vocabulary - are out to score big by capturing Quill. Amid the chaos, Quill forms an unlikely alliance with Gamora, Rocket and Groot, who are soon joined by the brute Drax (Dave Bautista). With so many evil forces out to use the orb to rule the galaxy, the reluctant team take it upon themselves to see that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands.

Guardians of the Galaxy was in good hands with writer-director James Gunn (who retooled the original script by Nicole Perlman), an underrated indie helmer from the Troma school of filmmaking. Most indie or foreign directors relinquish artistic integrity in their move to Hollywood, but Gunn's quirky fingerprints are all over Guardians, with shrewd humour and delightfully oddball characters within a cleverly-designed narrative which finds time for world-building and character development without ever becoming drab. It all expectedly builds to a trademark Big Noisy Climax that doesn't feel entirely essential to this story, but Gunn never lets the picture out of his control; although the digital effects are often obvious, it's easy to get invested in the battle due to the hugely charismatic cast that we ultimately grow to care about, and because of how intense this final showdown truly is.

There's plenty of information floating around the margins that fans will recognise as having been set up before or set to pay off later, but it's possible to actually care about it all in this context. While Guardians of the Galaxy is highly amusing, the movie at no point devolves into an utter joke, as there are genuine stakes here. Threats are real, drama feels genuine, and there is emotional depth to the crew - Rocket is distressed about being perceived as an animal, Gamora is desperate to escape the shadows of Ronan and Thanos, Drax is haunted by the death of his family at the hands of Ronan, and Quill will risk his life for his beloved Walkman, which represents his last connection to his time on Earth. There's vivid realism at play here, and Gunn never gives into excess; he maintains a furious pace, and infuses the production with plenty of awe and excitement. It's an ideal way to kick off a fantasy franchise, and it puts the horrendous Star Wars prequels to shame.

Backed by a customarily generous budget, Guardians of the Galaxy looks and sounds superb, with top-flight digital effects and equally extraordinary make-up work and sets which give this fantasy wonderland a semi-realistic look. Gamora was originally intended to be pulled off with motion capture, but Saldana was instead given an elaborate make-up job. Likewise, Bautista was covered in practical make-up effects to portray Drax. It's a great move in the long run, bestowing the characters with a tangible quality that CGI simply cannot achieve. And while Rocket and Groot were digital, they are miracles of motion capture and voice work; it's simply amazing how much dramatic range Gunn manages to get out of them. And as the cherry on top, the picture is scored with a tastefully-selected buffet of songs from the '70s and '80s, amplifying the production’s unique and quirky flavour. Guardians of the Galaxy has achieved something rare by providing a hugely effective soundtrack of old tunes, bringing them back into the limelight for a new generation accustomed to autotuning and dubstep. It further underscores the production's old-school sensibility, and it helps that each song is so perfectly integrated into the proceedings. Tyler Bates’ original compositions aren’t nearly as memorable, but they are effective.

Emotion eventually sneaks into the proceedings, but it's not distracting or contrived. Rather, it flows organically from this story. Therefore, even the most ostensibly clichéd story beats do not come off as cliché in the slightest; they work. And ultimately, that’s what matters in a motion picture of this ilk. You can be forgiven for shedding a few tears as the movie approaches its finish line; personally, I left the cinema with a smile on my face and damp eyes. Who the hell can complain about that?

The actors are the real high point of the entire enterprise, with absolutely no weak spots in the ensemble to speak of. Chris Pratt is an ideal Star-Lord, mixing equal parts Sterling Archer and Philip J. Fry to play this outlaw. It's amusing to watch Pratt as Quill, who tries so comically hard after his capture to embody a grade-schooler's idea of a badass space hero even when he's hopelessly out of his depth. Saldana is just as good, and Gunn manages to pull a remarkable performance out of wrestler Bautista, who’s a comedic instrument of blunt force to be reckoned with. Diesel is about as good as can be expected for a character who says the same few words over and over again, while Cooper gives real spark and spunk to Rocket.

Ronan has been branded as an unmemorable villain by some, but he's easily one of the more successful bad guys we've seen in the Marvel canon (certainly better than Jeff Bridges in Iron Man or the notoriously vanilla antagonists in Thor: The Dark World). As Ronan, Lee Pace is authoritative and menacing. We are also given our first glimpse of Josh Brolin as Thanos, and it is awesome. Filling out the supporting cast, there's the underrated Michael Rooker who's an absolute riot as Yondu, while John C. Reilly, Benicio del Toro, and even Glenn Close make appearances.

Guardians of the Galaxy is not only hugely entertaining viewing - it's also incredibly rewarding. Its combination of well-judged classic tunes, a perfect cast and unforced emotion just comes together amazingly well, and its replay value is through the roof. In fact, if anything, the flick improves with repeat viewings. It's a fun, hearty afternoon at the movies for all ages, and it is highly recommended.

9.5/10