movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

"He was like a dog...for everyone!"

Red Dog is a real charmer of an Aussie movie. Directed by Kriv Stenders, the film is based on the true story of a Kelpie who won the hearts of Western Australia during the '70s. With its myriad of heart and soul, Red Dog is a heart-warming, endearing, humorous and affecting portrayal of a mining town's love for the titular canine. The film's astute depiction of the relationship between man and dog, on top of the strong filmmaking and charming screenplay ensure that Red Dog can immediately join the canon of great dog flicks.

An adaptation of Louis de Bernières' book of the same name, Red Dog tells the true story of a dog that befriended the mining community of Dampier. The film is predominantly spent in flashback, as it begins in 1979. A trucker named Tom (Ford) arrives in Dampier on a fateful night, and stops at the local pub where Red Dog lays dying from strychnine poisoning. Keeping vigil a room away, barman Jack (Taylor) and the other distraught locals begin to regale Tom with stories of their fondest memories of Red Dog. According to legend, Red Dog hitched a ride into Dampier one day and fast became a mascot for the melting pot of a population. The dog was everyone's and no-one's; he jumped into anyone's lap or car. Until, that is, he finally chose his master: an American bus driver named John (Lucas), who drifted into the town to make a living.

Admittedly, Red Dog gets off to a rocky start. The first 10 or 15 minutes are slow-going and rather uninvolving as the dizzyingly large ensemble begin to make appearances without sufficient back-story or build-up. The film soon finds its groove, though, and the second half in particular is thoroughly enthralling. Another problem is that this is an ensemble movie lacking a key human character through whom the story can gain traction - the script juggles protagonists without settling on anyone. Since Tom is the newcomer in town and he himself is being educated about Red Dog, he should be a strong entry point into the narrative for viewers, but instead the role is underdeveloped, devoid of personality and pretty much thankless; nothing but an device to allow the locals to tell their stories. We're probably meant to project themselves onto the bland cipher that is Tom's character, but that just seems like an excuse for laziness.

Pointing out such flaws, however, feels rather mean-spirited in what is otherwise a good-natured, easily lovable Australian gem that'll make you laugh and cry. And the fact that this is essentially a non-fiction story only adds to the picture's wonder. Some license was taken, but there was indeed a beloved canine known as Red Dog who touched the lives of several Western Australian residents in a huge way. To the men of that region it's a profound story, and it's also a very true blue Aussie tale due to its combination of beer drinking, outback red dust and sense of working-man mateship. There are a lot of cheeky laughs to be had throughout Red Dog as well, though the humour is uniquely Australian. Indeed, it's hard to imagine international residents connecting or responding to this picture as deeply as Australians. With that said, though, anyone of any country will get a lump in their throat at various points due to the story's inherent tragic elements. Fortunately, director Stenders did not overdo the grief, which ensures that the emotions feel genuine rather than shamelessly manipulative. Not to mention, the tragedy is balanced with an emotionally uplifting final scene. However, a couple of villains pop up in the form of upright caravan park caretakers, and they are far too broad and over-the-top.

Kriv Stenders' direction and storytelling is clean and engaging, eschewing pretension, showiness and heavy-handedness for an appropriately simple approach (though there are a few instances of incredibly bad digital effects). Cinematographer Geoff Hall also gets a massive kudos for skilfully capturing the natural beauty of the Australian outback. The lovely soundtrack, meanwhile, is full of vintage rock songs from the era, supplemented by an atmospheric score courtesy of Cezary Skubiszewski. Furthermore, this is an unusual type of family film which contains drunkenness and pub brawling. Yet, the inclusion of such material adds to the flick's authenticity, as the tale's main players actually spent their time either working or drinking in real life. Thus, it's refreshing to see a family-friendly film like Red Dog which is not completely vanilla when it comes to depicting reality.

The cast, for the most part, is superb. American Josh Lucas is warm and charismatic as Red Dog's only master, while Rachael Taylor is suitably lovely as Nancy, who was a huge part of Red Dog's life. Noah Taylor is also highly effective as Jack, and the late, great Bill Hunter even pops up for a delightful cameo. But the star of the film is Koko the dog, who fulfilled leading man responsibilities with utmost confidence. Sure, Koko is just a dog, but he's one hell of a performer who's both lovable and convincing, and who eloquently responds to the requirements of each scene. Koko is one of the reasons why Red Dog is such a success. After all, as Jack points out at one stage, the dog was so significant not because he did something remarkable, but because of who he was. Thanks to Koko, we can understand why Red Dog was so beloved.

In spite of its shortcomings, Red Dog works extremely well and is filled with several terrific scenes. Red Dog will move you, entertain you and make you laugh, and you cannot deny the endearing nature of the titular dog. This is a delightful winner of an Aussie movie, and only a true cynic would find it unenjoyable. Yeah, it's not quite on the same level as The Castle, but what is?

7.9/10

"Crazy is being miserable and walking around half asleep, numb, day after day after day. Crazy is pretending to be happy. Pretending that the way things are is the way they have to be for the rest of your bleeding life. All the potential, hope, all that joy, feeling, all that passion that life has sucked out of you. Reach out, grab a hold of it and snatch it back from that bloodsucking rabble."

Contrary to most, this reviewer is an enormous Mel Gibson apologist, and it's tragic that every nuance of his private life has been broadcast to the oversensitive public who subsequently judge the man on isolated incidents without knowing the proper context. With his personal demons under the scrutiny of the public eye, the star is now shunned by an industry who once adored him. It's somewhat appropriate, then, that Gibson's first movie since the infamous leaked recordings is 2011's The Beaver, which has Gibson playing someone who loses it all and sets out to rediscover the man he used to be. In spite of its lukewarm critical reception, this is a wonderful indie drama which touches upon serious issues with sensitivity and maturity. Jodie Foster's direction evinces genuine care and passion, and Gibson's performance at the centre of the story is absolutely magnificent.

An aging husband and father, Walter Black (Gibson) has hit rock bottom. He's running his late father's toy company into the ground, his marriage is crumbling, and he's severely depressed. His long-suffering wife Meredith (Foster) can no longer live with her empty shell of a husband, and asks Walter to leave. While wallowing in drunken despair and contemplating suicide, Walter finds himself communicating with his alter ego - a beaver puppet on his hand that he salvaged from a dumpster - who promises to save Walter's pathetic life. Soon, Walter immerses himself into his alter ego, communicating with those around him solely via the beaver puppet. As the forthright, confident Beaver, Walter saves his toy company from collapse and begins to repair his family life. However, use of the puppet soon begins to take its toll on Walter's fragile sanity.

Initially, it seems as if the puppet is the key to Walter's salvation. As The Beaver, Walter is more dynamic, more lively, and more capable at handling life's challenges. But Walter grows progressively weaker as The Beaver grows stronger, and when Meredith forces her husband to be himself, he returns to his shaky, empty mental state. Not everyone will be willing to go along with the puppet device, but it worked flawlessly for this reviewer. There's one particular scene in which Walter (as The Beaver) offers metaphysical insight into the human condition on The Today Show that's both shrewd and moving. Some moments throughout the film admittedly feel a bit too on-the-nose and scripted (a graduation speech is a key offender), not to mention corny ("We're talking about a miracle!"), but the picture has more hits than misses.

For a good 45 minutes after Walter adopts the puppet, The Beaver is generally rather flippant - Walter reintegrates himself into his family unit wonderfully (though his eldest son resents the concept), and Walter reinvigorates his business in a heart-warming fashion. It's enjoyable to watch Walter interact strictly through his puppet avatar, and several moments of comedy flow from this. But while it has its light moments, The Beaver is not a comedy, as the film is more concerned with depicting depression in a realistic fashion. The film explores the repercussions on relationships and families when severe depression envelops someone who consequently loses all hope. Depression can reverberate throughout others, bringing a depressed person's loved ones down as well. Foster is a relatively inexperienced director, but the tonal changes are surprisingly assured; she has managed to generate a delicate balancing act between dark comedy and powerful drama. Foster is also aided by Marcelo Zarvos' often engaging, offbeat score, though a few sound-bites fail to sit right (intense action movie-esque music during the emotional scene in which Walter struggles to overcome the Beaver's grasp?).

Mel Gibson's presence may turn some people off the film, but all of his baggage actually makes it easier for us to identify with his character's spiritual woes. Gibson's essaying of Walter is stunning, as his face is etched with palpable pain and sadness. He really threw himself into this part, and he's fantastic as both the depressed Walter and the brash Beaver (whose cockney accent is a mix of Ray Winstone and Michael Caine). Creating two disparate personalities would be a difficult undertaking for any performer, but Gibson confidently pulled it off with nuance and charm to spare. In The Beaver's introductory scene, Walter is essentially talking with himself, but Gibson handled the dialogue exchanges marvellously; his face constantly switches between the despondent Walter and the vibrant Beaver to immaculate effect. Say whatever you wish about Gibson's controversial personal life, but you cannot deny that he's a magnificent actor. Jodie Foster is not quite as good in the role of Walter's wife, but both Anton Yelchin and Jennifer Lawrence are spot-on as Porter and Norah (respectively). What's most commendable about Yelchin and Lawrence is that they never seem sappy during emotional moments.

Admittedly, The Beaver is not quite as developed as it should have been, most notably in its moral lessons than could have been fleshed out more. Nevertheless, this reviewer immensely enjoyed The Beaver; it's touching, it has a handful of great scenes, and boasts some wonderful acting. It packs a huge emotional punch at the end as well, and refuses to end on an entirely clichéd note (not everything is neatly resolved). This is not a perfect film, but it is challenging and original.

8.0/10

"Careful, humans don't like smart ape."

After six feature films (including a remake) and two TV shows, a prequel exploring the apes' rise to global dominance seems to be the only avenue left to tackle in the exhausted Planet of the Apes franchise. Borrowing bits and pieces from earlier films (most notably Conquest of the Planet of the Apes), 2011's Rise of the Planet of the Apes starts from scratch, rebooting the tired saga and asking that we forget all the prior Apes pictures. Written by Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (their first screenplay since 1997's The Relic), Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a fresh, baggage-free outing that disposes of the franchise's pre-existing timeline to resurrect the Apes brand and pave the way for a whole new series. Surprisingly, the gamble pays off. Directed by Rupert Wyatt (2008's The Escapist), Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a rare summer blockbuster that shows more interest in storytelling and character development than mind-numbing action.


In San Francisco, ambitious scientist Will Rodman (James Franco) is testing a particular virus on apes that can potentially cure Alzheimer's Disease. After an accident leaves both the project and Will's star experimental subject dead, he takes home the baby ape left behind to save its life. He only intends to take care of the ape momentarily but ends up keeping the pet to comfort his dying father, Charles (John Lithgow). Naming him Caesar, the chimp grows up to be an obedient pet with a heightened intellect and a curiosity about the outside world. However, the household's tranquillity is shattered when Caesar's fiercely protective instincts lead to his imprisonment in a shady primate shelter. He is abused and mistreated by both the staff and other inmates, leading Caesar to lose his faith in humanity. The intelligent ape longs for freedom and looks to harness the power of Will's viral creation to create an ape army and spearhead an uprising against humankind.

In addition to being more patient and meticulous than typical summer blockbusters, Rise of the Planet of the Apes tackles several social and political topics. It brutally depicts Caesar's abuse while imprisoned, observing the tragic darkening of his soul and sending a message about animal mistreatment. It also raises ideas about the morality of using animals for drug testing, and about the evils of greedy pharmaceutical companies more interested in their bottom line than ethics. On top of this, Caesar's abnormally high intelligence raises provocative questions - what rights does Caesar have? Should he be treated as an equal? Is it morally acceptable for him to be owned and treated like a pet? While Rise of the Planet of the Apes does not explore this stuff with genuine profundity (this is a summer action movie), the film's alacrity is to be admired - Jaffa and Silver clearly want to leave you thinking about various things instead of feeling numb from countless explosions.

After Caesar's incarceration, the film is enthralling in the way it wordlessly portrays the ape growing from an uncertain newcomer to a feared leader, using his superior intellect to plot an escape plan and unite his ape army. During this section, the human characters are less interesting. The entire subplot concerning Will's father is downright affecting, but the rest of the human stuff is somewhat clumsy and lazy. The fact that the apes' interactions are so enthralling despite the lack of dialogue is a testament to Rupert Wyatt's strong direction and storytelling. It's also a testament to the workmanship of Weta Workshop, whose vibrant, expressive motion-capture technology effortlessly conveys the complexities of the ape characters. The eyes are astonishingly soulful, allowing these digital creations to express genuine depth and feeling.

Viewers expecting tonnes of ape combat may be disappointed by the prolonged build-up, but the rest of us will have no trouble appreciating the dramatic growth and character-building. Even despite the lack of action, this is a briskly-paced motion picture that never noticeably lags. Plus, the payoff of marvellous - the film's climax set atop the Golden Gate Bridge is a true highlight. It's an epic battle pitting the awakened apes against armed forces, and - on top of being coherently shot and edited - it carries emotional weight and suspense. It almost goes without saying that the CGI is phenomenal, bordering dangerously close on photorealism. The only troublesome thing about the digital effects is that they sometimes lack weight and inertia. For example, it does not look quite right when Will picks up a three-year-old Caesar, and, later on, Caesar climbs into a car that is not weighed down by the ape's mass.

Andy Serkis is the go-to guy for motion capture characters, having already played Gollum in Lord of the Rings and King Kong in Peter Jackson's 2005 epic. Here, Serkis is sublime as the conflicted Caesar, giving the character convincing life and conveying Caesar's interior revelations and craving for freedom. Serkis is the film's soul; he truly becomes an ape, and he is both lovable and fundamentally human. The rest of the cast are serviceable but are not on the same level as Serkis. The biggest standout is John Lithgow, who nails the bewilderment associated with Alzheimer's and is both believable and empathetic in the role of Will's father. Meanwhile, James Franco is merely okay as Will, and the film completely wastes Freida Pinto (Slumdog Millionaire) as a thankless love interest with no relevance to the story.

Not everything works here, as a few corny references to the 1968 film do not entirely gel, but Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a marvellous resurrection of an ailing saga. Its ending leaves room wide open for a sequel, but this self-contained story is satisfying by itself, especially with an extra sequence during the end credits that briskly illustrates the fall of man. I'm hooked; bring on the sequel!

8.2/10

"Listen, something's come up, and I'm not just talking about my cock."

One could describe The Guard as Lethal Weapon meets Quentin Tarantino via In Bruges, as it is a mismatched buddy cop movie with a distinctly Irish flavour and uproarious dialogue. However, The Guard does not feel like a derivative motion picture or a slapdash mash-up; instead, it's a hilarious, sharply written, and satisfyingly tongue-in-cheek dark comedy with a unique identity. Written and directed by John Michael McDonagh in his feature film debut, The Guard is also a reminder of how good buddy cop movies can be in the hands of talented filmmakers. With its doggedly offbeat and original sensibility, The Guard is often laugh-out-loud funny, and it affords more pleasures through clever writing and outstanding performances than any number of obnoxious, noisy summer blockbusters that earned more box office attention.

In the West of Ireland, Sergeant Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson) seemingly has little interest in taking his job seriously. The crass, confrontational officer of the Garda Síochána drinks heavily and indulges in drugs (even while on duty), while he spends his days off with prostitutes and does not care about political correctness. His insensitive demeanour shocks his new subordinate, Aidan McBride (Rory Keenan), who arrives from Dublin with an actual work ethic, hoping to solve crimes and help the local community. Shortly after the murder of an unknown man, F.B.I. agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) arrives in Ireland to investigate rumours of a major seaborne shipment of cocaine coming into the country. Unable to speak Gaelic and encountering disinterested locals, the strait-laced Everett convinces Boyle to help him catch drug traffickers Francis Sheehy-Skeffington (Liam Cunningham), Clive Cornell (Mark Strong), and Liam O'Leary (David Wilmot).

The Guard hits the ground running with an opening scene of Boyle casually watching a speeding car that promptly crashes as it passes him, after which he nonchalantly checks the corpses and steals their drugs. It sets the tone for Boyle's hysterical antics, with the character dispersing an endless supply of one-liners as he banters with the other characters and shows no tolerance for nonsense. Additionally, McDonagh's screenplay wittily sends up Hollywood movies - Clive undermines Americanisms that drive him crazy (such as the saying "Good to go"), and the final scene involves a droll discussion about the possibility of a movie adaptation of the story. McDonagh mines uproarious humour from the situations throughout the story, including Boyle engaging with sex workers on his day off instead of helping Everett with the investigation, and Irish locals pretending they do not understand English when Everett goes door-knocking.

McDonagh's screenplay bursts with hilarious one-liners and bantering, with the writer-director showing no regard for political correctness. Indeed, Boyle himself even shows disdain for the mere suggestion of being politically correct, telling McBride, "Why don't you fuck off to America with your appropriate, fuckin' Barrack Obama." However, The Guard is not purely a comedy, as it also features darker, more dramatic elements, including the abrupt murder of a Garda officer and a climactic shootout on a boat. The tonal changes are not always successful, but McDonagh needs to establish the stakes: despite the humorous dialogue, the director takes the story seriously to prevent it from feeling like a disposable comedy. Compared to more mainstream films, The Guard lacks digital effects and expansive scope, as the story does not demand costly visual trickery. However, the movie grabs your attention with the robust performances and Larry Smith's striking cinematography, which gorgeously captures the natural beauty of rural Ireland. Another enormous benefit is the catchy, Western-esque score courtesy of American indie rock band Calexico, which further enhances the picture's irresistible, unique flavour.

The plot involves drug running and murder, but such material is inconsequential because The Guard is essentially The Brendan Gleeson Show: a character study of the boorish, sarcastic, and cynical Sergeant Gerry Boyle, who perpetually offends his peers. Indeed, the story's events are almost incidental since the movie is primarily about the protagonist's reaction to everything that occurs. The film leaves us to decide whether Boyle is genuinely ignorant or a consummate troll, given the offensive things he says, and it also lets us wonder whether Boyle's opinions and stories are genuine or if he's a liar. Everett even tells Boyle, "You know, I can't tell if you're really motherfucking dumb or really motherfucking smart," as the characters in the movie are similarly unsure about Boyle and what he is thinking. Our interpretation of the complex contrarian feeds into the story and its open-ended conclusion, with McDonagh again emphasising that The Guard is about Boyle and his response to the story's events. The ending might seem unsatisfying at first, but there is more thought and depth to McDonagh's decision to conclude the story in such a way - it is not a lazy cop-out.

Gleeson is excellent here, with the part seemingly tailor-made for the sharp Irish performer. A veteran character actor, Gleeson is primarily known for playing supporting roles, as seen in films like Braveheart, Michael Collins, and Troy; however, he is predictably outstanding in a leading role here. Gleeson has unmatched comedic timing and delivery, scoring laughs with seemingly little effort and making McDonagh's witty dialogue sound entirely natural. Additionally, Gleeson helps ensure that Boyle does not come across as a caricature - instead, the character is wholly three-dimensional. Unsurprisingly, McDonagh later recruited Gleeson to play the lead in his 2014 picture, Calvary. Fortunately, the supporting cast is equally terrific, with Don Cheadle serving as a fantastic straight man, and his grounded disposition further highlights Boyle's peculiar eccentricities. Other recognisable names also appear here, including Mark Strong (playing yet another villain) and the always-reliable Liam Cunningham as two of the drug traffickers, while several wonderful, lesser-known Irish actors fill out the ensemble. All of the bit players are terrific, from Dominique McElligott and Sarah Greene, who play sweet-natured sex workers, to the horse that Everett tries to question during his investigation. Katarina Čas also makes a great impression as Gabriela McBride, who adds a touch of emotion to the story.

Running at a brisk 90 minutes, The Guard does not outstay its welcome, and McDonagh continually maintains interest with the razor-sharp dialogue and spirited performances. It is not a fast-paced movie, but it is engrossing for those who are willing to listen to the clever, at times poignant conversations (Boyle's discussions with his ailing mother are incredibly touching). McDonagh's filmmaking approach to The Guard, with a focus on witty character interaction and a splash of action, is reminiscent of 2008's In Bruges, and there is a logical reason for this: McDonagh's brother, Martin McDonagh, wrote and directed In Bruges, and served as executive producer on The Guard. Indeed, the two pictures are markedly similar in their dry, sardonic humour, frequently profane dialogue, Irish leads, an atmospheric sense of place, and superb use of Brendan Gleeson. Memorable and hilarious, The Guard is a standout indie production in a sea of expensive studio movies, and Gleeson's Gerry Boyle is arguably the most memorable character of 2011.

8.4/10

"I'm knee-deep in the single most important case of my career."

Even though it competed against Avatar during its theatrical run, 2009's Sherlock Holmes grossed in excess of $500 million at the worldwide box office, making a sequel a high priority for Warner Brothers. Arriving two years after its predecessor, 2011's Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a well-realised follow-up that does an admirable job of ironing out the original film's creases while both retaining and building upon its strengths. It's perhaps not quite as good as it could have been, but A Game of Shadows remains meticulously crafted and fiendishly clever.

As Dr. Watson (Law) prepares to marry his fiancée Mary (Reilly), Sherlock Holmes (Downey Jr.) is hot on the trail of his greatest adversary: Oxford professor James Moriarty (Harris). A series of anarchist bombings are taking place around London, and Holmes suspects that Moriarty is involved. Following his nuptials, Watson finds himself a target in Moriarty's evil machinations, and reluctantly teams up with Holmes once again to investigate the evil mastermind. As they work their way around Europe, Holmes and Watson happen upon mysterious gypsy fortune teller Sim (Rapace), whose brother has been kidnapped by Moriarty. Holmes' older brother Mycroft (Fry) also lends his expertise to the case as they grow closer to unravelling Moriarty's wicked plot of assassinations, bombings and the potential beginning of a world war.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows may shock viewers who haven't yet acquainted themselves with Guy Ritchie's reinvention of the gentleman detective. Ritchie has spectacularly re-invigorated the ancient hero, retaining the character's unparalleled cerebral talents while adding 21st Century action-adventure sensibilities. Rather than a reserved pipe-smoker, this Sherlock Holmes is both physically and mentally lethal; he uses his gifts of analysis to engage in fighting and death-defying acts, and Ritchie employs engaging filmmaking techniques to highlight Holmes' bustling mind. It was a creative choice that worked in 2009's Sherlock Holmes, and it makes a welcome return here. Ritchie, of course, also retained his proclivity for stylish camera movements and kinetic energy, stuffing A Game of Shadows with a large number of thrilling action set-pieces and infusing the film with drive and momentum. Furthermore, the action set-pieces do not seem dumb or forced; they flow organically out of the structure of the narrative, and Holmes is such a crafty bastard that they never seem stupid. However, a few of the fights were shot too close, too fast and too dark, and Ritchie went overboard with his use of slow motion (the forest chase in particular is borderline disgusting in its overuse of slo-mo and "bullet time").

While it has lots of action, A Game of Shadows also relies on the complex relationship that Holmes and Dr. Watson share. There's time for their relationship to grow, and their bantering is often witty and amusing. Speaking of character interaction, the film is gripping when it pits Holmes against Moriarty. The exhilarating finale involves the two going head-to-head in an intense game of chess which tests both their mental and physical strength. It's the best sequence in the film; far more effective than any of the gunfights or brawls, and it's a shame that Ritchie and his writers didn't permit more time for the pair to engage in verbal combat.

Produced on a lavish budget, the picture looks expectedly fantastic. The somewhat rickety CGI of the 2009 original has been drastically improved, and the digital effects have been combined with lavish sets and costumes which exemplify careful attention to period detail. Hans Zimmer also returned to compose the score (his standout efforts on the first film earned an Oscar), and his flavoursome musical accompaniment is a huge asset.

Robert Downey Jr. is visibly more comfortable in the role of Sherlock Holmes here, and it's clear that he has found his groove. Downey's accent feels astonishingly lived-in, he oozes charisma, and he generally suits this vision of the character to the ground. Jude Law, meanwhile, is back here as Dr. Watson. Law's contributions should not be overlooked, as he's a sturdy and focused sidekick for Downey. Also terrific is Jared Harris, whose performance as Professor Moriarty is exceptional. Harris' biggest strength is the way that he can deliver menacing dialogue with chilling restraint while simultaneously convincing us that he's capable of committing heinous acts of crime. Another newcomer is Stephen Fry, whose performance as Mycroft is well-judged, charming and amusing. Noomi Rapace is not quite as good, but she's serviceable as the gypsy fortune teller who helps Holmes and Watson in their investigation. Rounding out the main players is Kelly Reilly and Rachel McAdams who briefly show up to reprise their roles of Mary Watson and Irene Adler (respectively).

While Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is an exciting, funny and intelligent action-adventure, it's not exactly the most soulful or substance-laden blockbuster you'll see. Ritchie's storytelling is admittedly still a bit garbled as well, though his abilities have markedly improved since the original movie. Even with its flaws considered, though, this is a strong sequel. With it having been infused with the same flavour as 2009's Sherlock Holmes, 2011's A Game of Shadows is a cosy companion piece for its predecessor. Further instalments are practically inevitable, and that's fine, because this new Sherlock Holmes franchise is shaping up to be something special.

7.5/10

"Legend tells of a band of noble warriors... known as the Guardians of Ga'hoole. Whenever trouble is at hand, seek them out. For they are sworn to protect the innocent, and vanquish evil."

Who would've thought that director Zack Snyder would undertake such a project as Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole? Snyder first burst onto the scene with his exceedingly violent Dawn of the Dead remake before moving onto the blood-soaked 300 and the thoroughly adult Watchmen. 2010's PG-rated Legend of the Guardians is Snyder's fourth directorial undertaking, and it's a surprising career move which has unexpectedly paid off. Despite its ridiculously long-winded title and the rote nature of its coming-of-age narrative (reminiscent of Bambi), this is an aesthetically stunning 3-D experience steeped in visual majesty that's a great fit for Snyder's dark moviemaking instincts.

Living with his family high among the treetops, impressionable young owl Soren (Sturgess) loves to hear tales about warrior owls known as the guardians of Ga'Hoole. When Soren and his cynical brother Kludd (Kwanten) sneak out of home one night to practise flying without adult supervision, the two owls are promptly kidnapped and taken to the lair of the wicked "Pure Ones" led by Nyra (Mirren) and Metalbeak (Edgerton). Soren and Kludd find themselves amongst several kidnapped owls and owlets, who are being hypnotised to engage in slave labour to help construct a doomsday device with harvested metal flecks. While Kludd chooses to join the Pure Ones army, Soren and newfound young friend Gylfie (Barclay) stage an escape, and head off in search of the guardians to warn them of the Pure One's evil plans.

Written by John Orloff (Band of Brothers) and Emil Stern, Legend of the Guardians compresses the first three books of Kathryn Lasky's Guardians of Ga'Hoole series into one 90-minute feature. A lot of ground needed to be covered, causing the script to falter as it struggles to introduce the franchise's mythology and characters on top of covering all of the important plot points. The result feels fairly underdone, with director Snyder rushing through so many events without giving us a chance to digest them all. Legend of the Guardians is also a breeding ground for clichés - its story is very much a traditional hero's journey, and it contains such elements as a prophecy and a brother who turns evil. Unfortunately, too, Snyder clearly had a bit of trouble adapting to the animation medium, as his storytelling is somewhat on the bland side. Snyder has never been the most competent storyteller, and his flaws are only exacerbated by the transition to animation. Added to this, the owls are a bit hard to distinguish from one another due to underwhelming characterisations.

In spite of its flaws, Legend of the Guardians is visually stunning. Toy Story 3 and How to Train Your Dragon are 2010's best all-round animated movies, but Legend of the Guardians possesses the best animation; it's one of the most visually intricate movies in history. The details and nuances of the animals are jaw-dropping; every feather on every owl looks real, and the textured backgrounds are remarkably close to photorealism. The characters seem truly alive, and in 3-D you truly feel as if you can reach out and touch the featured creatures. Snyder has always excelled as an action director, and these talents are visible throughout Legend of the Guardians - he's done a sensational job of staging owl combat. One could be fooled into believing Snyder has gone soft on us by undertaking this picture, but he did not abandon his darker side. This is a family film in which owls wear battle armour and attack one another with stomach-churning ferocity. Indeed, the PG rating should be noted, as this is not a suitable picture for anyone under the age of 10 or 12. The only catastrophic misstep from a technical standpoint is a cringe-worthy training montage set to a pop tune from the band Owl City.

The voice cast contains a lot of recognisable Australian talent, including Geoffrey Rush, Anthony LaPaglia, David Wenham, Hugo Weaving (playing two roles), Barry Otto, Joel Edgerton, Richard Roxburgh, Bill Hunter, Angus Sampson and Leigh Whannell. In terms of international talent, we have Sam Neill, Helen Mirren and Miriam Margolyes. Even if a lot of these names seem like stunt casting, the acting is nevertheless uniformly strong. Rush is the biggest standout; he's extremely authoritative and believable as Ezylryb.

Ultimately, Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole is a bit of a mixed bag. One cannot deny its visually stunning nature, yet it needed more soul and stronger storytelling. It's hard to hold too much against the movie, though, as its 3-D animation is game-changing and it contains several outstanding action set-pieces.

7.1/10

"How do you feel about the suicide of your best friend in the world?"

The Chumscrubber is armed with an A-list ensemble cast, but such a luxury is not enough to save this overwrought, uninspired satirisation of contemporary life in the American suburbs. Although a handful of performances work extremely well, this hybrid of American Beauty and Donnie Darko is hindered by the sense of amateurism which shrouds the production. Not to mention, the film's observations about suburban banality are no longer original. Unoriginality is a given in this day and age, but The Chumscrubber seems to be entirely reliant on its messages to see it through, with writers Arie Posin (who also directed) and Zac Stanford apparently calling it a day after throwing their derivative observations in the script. Thus, the dialogue is drab and the pacing is stiff, making The Chumscrubber far less engaging than the films it set out to emulate.

One afternoon in an idyllically average suburban neighbourhood, Dean (Bell) finds that his best - and only - friend Troy (Janowicz) has committed suicide by hanging himself in his bedroom. Troy was the local school's drug supplier, and the students are yearning for another delivery of happy pills. Three of Dean's classmates - Billy (Chatwin), Crystal (Belle) and Lee (Pucci) - demand for him to deliver Troy's drug stash to them, and look to kidnap Dean's brother Charlie to hold him for ransom. But the hapless trio kidnap the wrong Charlie; they accidentally snatch the son of a local cop (Heard) whose divorced wife (Wilson) is about to marry the mayor (Fiennes).

All of the actors, while talented, were saddled with stereotypes of suppressed middle-class America. Posin and Stanford would probably have us believe that they employed stereotypes for the sake of satire, yet the characters lack required depth for proper satire; they're all surface-level and none of them seem to act like actual human beings. For instance, the mayor's sudden airy dolphin obsession merely results in a number of "what the fuck?" moments, the kidnapped Charlie never screams for help or tries to escape or even realises he's in danger, Dean for some reason agrees to take pills at his father's behest despite being so adamant that he's fine... The whole ensemble are poorly fleshed-out plot pawns whose motivations never go beyond "because the script demands it". This is probably because Posin and Stanford bit off more than they could chew - there are far too many characters in too many stories, denying the chance for proper character development.

The titular Chumscrubber is a headless video game hero who walks the desolate planet battling the forces of evil. This is, of course, a metaphor for Dean who tries to battle the superficialities of his neighbourhood. How trite and obvious can you get? The Chumscrubber is Arie Posin's first feature film, and his inexperience is obvious in the banal, pedestrian filmmaking and the unsubtle way that he tries to deliver his satire. The flick has its moments from time to time, but Posin has a terrible grasp on pacing, storytelling and subtlety.

The topic of suburban banality is not new to anybody who's seen the likes of American Beauty and Blue Velvet, or even Desperate Housewives and Edward Scissorhands. Yet, indie filmmakers seem to find the subject irresistible, and are overeager to explore what happens behind the innocent-looking white picket fences. Posin had big ambitions for his first feature, but he had no idea what to do with them.

3.7/10

"Weapons are the tangible form of power. Anyone who can fuse his body and soul with them shall possess the greatest power in the land."

Ong Bak 3 picks up exactly where its immediate predecessor ended. But can anyone actually recall the events of 2008's disappointing Ong Bak 2? It was a dour mess; a confused jumble of leaden action scenes, montages and flashbacks without a modicum of comprehensible storytelling. Ong Bak 3 continues the decline in quality of Jaa's output. Rather than cutting loose and providing an opportunity for Jaa to showcase his fighting abilities (like the original Ong-bak), the film concerns itself with overwrought myth-making nonsense and egregiously straight-faced ridiculousness. The film is made up of about 15% action (if that) and 84% pseudo-spiritual mumbo jumbo. That leaves about 1% for the story, though that term is probably too flattering.

After being captured by the wicked Lord Rajasena (Wongkrachang), villager Tien (Jaa) is battered and beaten within an inch of his life, but is spared when another random king chooses to interfere. From there, Tien is reincarnated, and the broken warrior is forced to retrain his body and soul through teachings of spiritual stability and focus. Meanwhile, Rajasena has his own hands full, as he's being pursued by some mystical crow warrior (Chupong) who seeks to claim the throne. That's about all I got from the movie...

Ong Bak 3's production values are admittedly solid and the recreation of medieval Thailand easily impresses, but the script is incomprehensible nonsense. As exemplified by the vague plot summary above, the story amounts to a few haphazardly-connected elements without any worthwhile character development. The "drama" of the story is restricted to characters staring at one another and only occasionally talking, leaving us confused about what's happening and why. We hear stuff about a curse, we see a puff of black smoke floating around, we assume there's some form of black magic at hand and we watch men squabble, but there's no motivation to any of this material. We also witness Tien learning to be a pacifist during his rehabilitation (I think) but abandoning these teachings to go kick some ass... Wait, what's happening in this movie?

With more dancing than fighting, and too many vain attempts at thoughtful spirituality, not enough time in Ong Bak 3 is spent on what we sought from this movie: ass kicking. The movie carries the subtitle The Final Battle, implying a kick-ass finale and suggesting that there will be a rewarding payoff after slogging through the tedious midsection of praying and meditation... But no such miracle arrives. There's a good 10 minutes of butt-kicking, but it's mostly in irritating slow motion. The original Ong-bak's action worked due to its brutal frankness, whereas Ong Bak 3's action is simply a lot of balletic movements in slo-mo. Adding insult to injury, most of the climax happens in Tien's head. (Or maybe he turned back time...fucked if I know anything conclusive about what happens in this film.) I get that Jaa set out to make an epic, dramatic, spiritual period piece rife with symbolism and meaning. The problem is that it's done badly; directors Jaa and Panna Rittikrai were visibly out of their comfort zone when it came to storytelling and assembling a cohesive narrative.

Perhaps the most perplexing thing about Ong Bak 3 is that it's a Tony Jaa vehicle, yet Jaa is easily outshined by Dan Chupong. From top to bottom, this film is ill-conceived and disappointing. It's hardly surprising that Ong Bak 2 and 3 were intended to be one movie, but there were a lot of behind-the-scenes troubles. Unfortunately, both films carry the earmarks of a troubled production, as they're messy and slapdash. For crying out loud, Jaa even decided to quit films and go become a fucking Buddhist monk after the trauma of the Ong Bak sequels. I don't blame him. Even if you're a die-hard Jaa completist, Ong Bak 3 just isn't worth it. Bad story and atrocious dialogue can be forgiven in action movies, but Ong Bak 3 spends too much time revelling in these elements rather than letting Jaa do his thing. How can Jaa and Rittikrai not understand the selling point of this movie?

3.5/10

"There's a clue to another treasure. How's your thirst for adventure, Captain?"

Created in 1929 by Belgian cartoonist Hergé, Tintin is an internationally beloved literary character in virtually every part of the world except America. Enter Steven Spielberg (back in the director's chair for the first time since 2008's Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) and Peter Jackson, who've collaborated to give Hergé's creation new life in a glossy, mainstream Hollywood extravaganza hoping to appeal to both newcomers (Americans included) and established fans. The result is difficult to dislike, with the pair of filmmaking heavyweights using phenomenal state-of-the-art motion capture technology to vividly bring to life this world of danger, adventure and sleuthing.

An intrepid journalist who enjoys investigating mysteries, Tintin (Bell) finds himself inadvertently thrust into a perilous adventure when he purchases an ornate model of a 17th Century pirate ship known as "The Unicorn". To Tintin's puzzlement, the item becomes hotly pursued by other interested buyers, and is stolen when his flat is subsequently ransacked. With help from his loyal dog Snowy, Tintin starts looking into the ship's significance, and finds that his model held one of three scrolls which could help lead to the Unicorn's hidden treasure. The owner of the second scroll, the sinister Ivan Sakharine (Craig), begins resorting to violence and kidnapping to get all three scrolls, sweeping Tintin along on a sea voyage to the Moroccan city of Bagghar where the final scroll allegedly lurks. Along the way, Tintin teams up with Captain Haddock (Serkis), the final descendant of the Unicorn's original captain.

Tagged with the subtitle The Secret of the Unicorn, the film is based on three of Hergé's comics and was written by a trio of superlative British writers: Steven Moffat (Coupling, BBC's Sherlock, Doctor Who), Edgar Wright (Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), and Joe Cornish (Attack the Block). It's one hell of a dream team, and their energetic screenplay does not disappoint. It's full of fun character interactions and sly jokes, which have been translated to the screen with Indiana Jones-style zest by Spielberg. However, while there are a number of good laughs, a few moments of slapstick do feel overly cheap. More pertinently, Tintin remains an enigma throughout the film. He gets involved in so much action and danger, yet we're never permitted the chance to genuinely get to know him. Most of the dialogue is plot-related, as the picture refuses to slows its pace to let the Tintin grow as a three-dimensional human being. It's odd that he's such an empty cipher considering that Tintin's instantly-endearing dog Snowy is effectively developed just through his mannerisms.

The Adventures of Tintin marks Steven Spielberg's first directorial foray into both animation and mo-cap, and it's clear that the veteran filmmaker was right at home handling the action-adventure elements (it's obvious why Raiders of the Lost Ark was compared to Tintin). Spielberg was effortlessly able to transfer the energy, strong pacing, engaging mise-en-scène and artistic framing of his habitual live-action output to this new medium with added fluidity. It's also clear that Spielberg embraced the freedom to achieve what would be impossible when working in live-action. The Adventures of Tintin contains several amazing tracking shots (the single-shot chase through Morocco is phenomenal) and creative transitions, making the most of animation's boundless possibilities. However, at times Spielberg got too carried away, resulting in action scenes that are too silly and Hollywood-ised. This is vehemently a cartoon, yes, but one can't help but facepalm when a plane is fuelled by a Haddock belch. And set-pieces such as the climax are so over-the-top that you're instantly taken out of the movie. Not to mention, a few narrative developments feel distinctly forced (the way Haddock "remembers" his family history doesn't quite gel).

On a more positive note, the visuals absolutely take the breath away. The Adventures of Tintin grabs you from the very outset, beginning with a stylish Saul Bass-esque opening credits sequence featuring silhouetted characters acting out vignettes set to John Williams' marvellous, toe-tapping jazz score. The picture's lush CGI is not quite photo-real, but gorgeous isolated moments could be mistaken for live-action. Fortunately, too, the characters are not plagued with the creepy "dead-eye" syndrome of most mo-cap pictures - the likes of Tintin, Haddock and especially Snowy have a soul behind their artificially-rendered eyes. However, some body movements look a bit too smooth. This issue only arises from time to time, though - for the most part, the motions look stunning.

One of the benefits of animation over live-action is the possibility of digital manipulation. Thus, all of the actors here look like their comic book counterparts (though the digital avatars are far more detailed than Hergé's more cartoonish illustrations). Furthermore, the performances are solid right across the board. As the titular Tintin, Jamie Bell is ideal; he has a youthful naivety about him, and his line readings are suitably low-key. Alongside him, Andy Serkis is the star of the show as Captain Haddock, who has a drinking problem and a strong supply of one-liners. Also in the cast is the duo of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as incompetent detectives Thompson and Thomson (respectively). The two do not have an overly important part in the adventure, but it's always a pleasure to see Pegg and Frost in a motion picture. Rounding out the main players is Daniel Craig, who positively disappears into the role of Ivan Sakharine with terrific results.

The Adventures of Tintin is not a flawless adaptation, and it's somewhat disappointing that the picture isn't better considering the perfect storm of talent which was assembled to bring it to fruition. Nevertheless, this is a very entertaining, well-made movie that's well worth seeing. With its cliffhanger ending ensuring that a sequel is inevitable, further movies may rectify the flaws of this introductory flick.

7.0/10

"Your life depends on you."

For Tony Jaa, 2003's Ong-bak was essentially his debutante ball, as it introduced the nimble performer and his phenomenal fighting skills to worldwide movie-goers. Wirework and digital effects are the norm in this day and age, but Jaa is the real deal: he actually performs death-defying stunts and leaps, and actually lands brutal aerial blows without any trickery. But Ong-bak was more of a demo reel for Jaa than a cohesive motion picture, and it left us wanting a vehicle for the young martial arts mastermind with strong storytelling. What a shame that 2008's Ong Bak 2: The Beginning is not the Tony Jaa vehicle we wanted; it suffers from leaden pacing and a self-serious tone which denies us the kind of pleasures we derived from the original picture. Plus, this "sequel" does not have anything to do with the 2003 film - instead, it's set in Thailand's medieval past and concerns new characters.

Ong Bak 2's story does not make much coherent sense, so bear with me. Hundreds of years ago, a young prince named Tien (played in adulthood by Jaa) becomes an orphan after his royal parents are killed during some type of violent political upheaval. Subsequently, slave traders capture the boy. After displaying real talent as a fighter during a struggle with a crocodile, Tien is taken under the wing of a moustachioed outlaw who raises him like a son. Thus, Tien is transformed from a primitive young boy into a highly-skilled warrior looking to exact vengeance on those responsible for his family's killing. I think...

It's recommended that you don't bother trying to piece together who's who, what their motivations are or what they're doing at any specified moment. Most of the time it's difficult to figure out where the narrative is heading beyond the obvious revenge quest, with what should be a simple action film becoming unnecessarily complicated. Perhaps the problem is that there's not enough exposition; the whole picture amounts to a handful of action scenes connected by borderline unintelligible montages and flashbacks accompanied by pretentious voiceover narration. The flashbacks are supposed to shed light on Tien's childhood, but they don't really explore his character or explain a great deal. A little girl is introduced in a flashback who reappears as an adult, but her relevance isn't clear. Fuck it, nothing's clear. Ong Bak 2 was notorious for its troubled production: filming went over budget and over schedule, Jaa (who directed the film) went MIA from the set, and extra help had to be pulled in to try and salvage the picture. And after all that, apparently they didn't even manage to tell the whole story they wanted to tell. Oh boy, do these dilemmas show in the finished product.

Ong Bak 2 is an admittedly lavish-looking production - the replication of ancient Thailand is very impressive, with period-specific costumes and sets. But while it's better-looking than its grungy predecessor, this follow-up is a lot less fun due to it being so dour and convoluted. It has a fair share of action, sure, yet the picture lacks momentum, and consequently the gaps between the set-pieces are appallingly tedious. Another key flaw is that we don't see Tony Jaa until about 20 minutes into the movie. We watch Tony Jaa movies to see the crazy little bastard kick ass and pull off crazy physical feats, but the extended opening sans Jaa plus the additional flashbacks means that Jaa is absent for a good one third of the film. Another problem is that Jaa predominantly opted against using the no-nonsense Muay Thai fighting style which made him stand out in the first place. It's understandable that he tried to introduce variety, but the replacement martial art is not as exciting as Muay Thai. Furthermore, there's not enough reason to care about Tien. Couple this with the picture's frequent dullness, and there's not a great deal of excitement to be had during this sluggish disappointment.

A few of Tony Jaa's physical feats here do impress (the elephant stampede jumping sequence is stunning), but Ong Bak 2 remains a jumbled, incoherent mess weighed down by its stoic, pretentious sense of self-importance that exacerbates the bad dialogue and hackneyed plotting. Jaa is a strong physical performer, but he's no filmmaker. He seriously needs to take acting lessons, learn the proper ropes of directing, and take part in a movie which mixes frenetic action with nuanced characters and textured storytelling.

3.5/10