movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

In Ohio, a heated political battle is unfolding to determine who will be the presidential nominee for the Democratic Party. Favoured candidate Mike Morris (Clooney) is being guided in his campaign by seasoned pro Paul Zara (Hoffman) and idealistic young hotshot Stephen Meyers (Gosling). As Paul scrambles to secure local support, Stephen is invited to a lunch meeting with Tom Duffy (Giamatti), the campaign manager for Morris' rival. Intrigued, Stephen attends the meeting only to be offered a job in Duffy's crew. Stephen declines due to his established allegiances, but word of the meeting soon reaches New York Times reporter Ida Horowicz (Tomei) who threatens to release the story. Stephen's paranoia begins going into overdrive, and the situation soon becomes exacerbated by his affair with 20-year-old intern Molly Stearns (Wood) who holds secrets that could potentially bring down Morris' campaign.

The first act of The Ides of March is static and talky, with the reams of complicated political jargon rendering it rather uninvolving. The dry dialogue may be true to the way these people talk behind-the-scenes, but it leaves the rest of us on the outside looking in. It's not that writers Clooney, Heslov and Willimon should've dumbed everything down to Twitter speak - it's that they expected too much of viewers, who are given so many intricate, vaguely-explained political machinations to process and not enough time for them to sink in. Thus, the pace is quick but the film is often unengaging. However, things thankfully heat up once Molly's conundrum is revealed. From there, the proceedings are enthralling and easier to follow. Once the finish line enters the flick's sights, though, The Ides of March falters. The narrative is such a rich tapestry of subplots and intrigue, stacking the deck against the writers who were saddled with the responsibility of resolving everything without senselessly dragging things out. To their credit, they conceived of a neat resolution and the final shot is sublime, but the specifics are too hazy.

Throughout his motion picture career as a director, actor and producer, George Clooney has been part of the creative school who yearn for a comeback of patient, pre-blockbuster cinema. Thus, Clooney enjoys participating in visually sophisticated films more concerned with storytelling and challenging ideas than explosions for maximum box office. Thus, The Ides of March is technically handsome, and was clearly created by consummate professionals from top to bottom. Clooney's direction is also astute. His efforts are especially commendable during the picture's final shot which studies Stephen's eyes as his integrity and soul becomes permanently replaced by dishonesty and rugged political ambition.

2011 is truly a banner year for Ryan Gosling, with The Ides of March marking his third sublime performance in a matter of months. With Crazy, Stupid, Love. and Drive now under his belt, the actor is becoming richer and more exciting, and his performance as Stephen Meyers here is truly superb. His dialogue may be occasionally dry, but Gosling's focus is unbreakable and riveting. Alongside Gosling is an equally impressive supporting cast. As the in-over-her-head Molly, Evan Rachel Wood truly shines in a performance that's both vivacious and affecting. She's a strong companion for Gosling; they share great chemistry, and their exchanges are often a highlight. Meanwhile, both Paul Giamatti and Phillip Seymour Hoffman shine as the campaign managers of the rival parties, and George Clooney is spot-on as Governor Morris. This is not a case of a director filling a part for the sake of his ego; Clooney is genuinely perfect in the role. Rounding out the cast is Marisa Tomei and Jeffrey Wright, both of whom sparkle. Indeed, it's doubtful you will see a more finely-tuned acting machine this year.

The Ides of March does not tell us anything innovative about politicians, and its story is nothing new. Instead of a shocking revelation about modern politics, it concerns itself with the same type of sex scandal plot we've seen done before. Still, this type of stuff does actually happen (Bill Clinton, anyone?), so maybe such criticisms are just nitpicking. The Ides of March is indeed flawed from a script perspective and you'll be left with a very bleak feeling once it ends, but this is the type of movie that you appreciate the more you ponder it.

6.0/10

Struggling middle-aged rock musician Jack Frost (Keaton) loves his wife Gabby (Preston) and son Charlie (Cross), but does not spend enough time with them. After years of unprofitable gigs, Jack and his band are at long last on the verge of a career breakthrough, but Jack is forced to cancel his planned family Christmas vacation in order to attend the audition. Jack has second thoughts during the drive to the audition, though, and decides to turn back to go spend Christmas with Gabby and Charlie. Unfortunately, Jack subsequently perishes in a car accident on the way, devastating his family. Fast forward a year, and Charlie is still affected by his father's passing: he no longer plays with his friends and his grades have plummeted. With Christmas approaching, Jack's spirit returns in the form of a wisecracking snowman, and he is given one last chance to spend some quality time with his son before he melts.

More than anything else, Jack Frost is hindered by the distinct lack of any substantial plot beyond the basic set-up. Oh sure, there are a few conventional story elements involving bullies and Charlie playing hockey, but they fail to offer satisfying substance to the flick, and are too quickly wrapped up (don't get me started on the neighbourhood bully...just don't go there). Thus, the premise is sporadically interrupted by snowball skirmishes (which are admittedly clever, as they're staged like war movie battles) and stupid chase scenes, but it's obvious that such set-pieces are mere distractions to pad out the runtime. Jack Frost's premise might have worked as a 30-minute short film or a television special, but as a feature it's low on momentum. Worse, it has barely any worthwhile humour - the dialogue is often worthy of facepalms and cringes.

The script is highly unfair towards the titular Jack. He's supposed to be one of those stereotypical neglectful fathers we see so often in family movies, but Jack is a fundamentally good dad who shouldn't have to redeem himself for anything. Life is cruel to Jack, plain and simple, and he's put in too many impossible positions. After all, he's a down-on-his-luck musician finally getting his big break, so why should his family begrudge him of this just because it causes him to miss a few events? Shouldn't they support him? Why not blame the people who are putting Jack in such a position? Why can't they understand Jack's perspective? Jack is not being selfish - he's always kind, respectful and loving to his family. Thus, Jack comes across as a good man, while Charlie seems mean-spirited.

On top of this, since Jack has been dead for a whole year, shouldn't Charlie have questions to ask his old man? For instance, "What happens when you die?", "What's it like being a snowman?", or "What did death feel like?". Alas, such queries are thrown by the wayside - the screenwriting committee were more focused on gimmicky action beats in a bid to keep us awake. The film's most humiliating failing, though, is that it doesn't pack any sort of emotional punch. The sappy, sentimental climax is ineffective and emotionally bereft, closing the proceedings on the flattest, most artificial note imaginable. Not to mention, Jack looks intrinsically creepy as a snowman. The special effects are serviceable, but there's no getting around the fact that this snowman looks ready to swallow your soul.

To be fair, the performances are at least respectable enough. It's clear that Michael Keaton tried to lighten the film with his sublime comic touch (his work in Beetlejuice deserved an Oscar), but the script did Keaton no justice. At least he got off easy, though, since he's relegated to a vocal role after the first half-hour. The rest of the cast are decent, with Kelly Preston and Joseph Cross both believable as Jack's family, and with an amiable Mark Addy playing one of Jack's friends. Meanwhile, in the only subplot that actually works, Henry Rollins scores the film's only laughs as a hockey coach who becomes incredibly scared and paranoid after meeting Jack in snowman form.

A slapdash comic fantasy, Jack Frost wanted to be a Spielbergian fairytale that tugs on the heart, but it provides nothing to respond to, and it's doubtful that it will emotionally affect anyone of any age group. The picture might work for unfussy folks in desperate need of a Christmas flick fit for family consumption, but on the whole it lacks the magic to make it a long-lasting holiday classic. Not even the frequently-reliable Michael Keaton can save Jack Frost from meltdown.

4.0/10

Christmas is rapidly approaching, and businessman Everett Stone (Mulroney) intends to bring his girlfriend Meredith (Parker) back to his New England hometown to meet his family for the first time. The Stone family - including parents Sybil (Keaton) and Kelly (Nelson), and their children: the rebellious Amy (McAdams), openly deaf & gay Thad (Giordano), stoner Ben (Wilson), and the pregnant Susannah (Reaser) - take an immediate dislike to Meredith, believing her to be the wrong girl for Everett. As the festive season wears on, Meredith keeps falling deeper in over her head, continuously conflicting with the family. For support and reinforcement, Meredith decides to call in her sister Julie (Danes), further escalating the dramas of the household during what was intended to be a pleasant Christmas celebration.

The Family Stone immediately falters on account of the shallow, detestable characters. It's hard to say who's worse: the Stone family who are so callous towards Meredith, or Meredith herself, who seems to make an effort to justify their contempt. It appears that writer-director Thomas Bezucha specifically designed Meredith to ensure her every characteristic will clash with the family and elicit disdain from viewers, which is exactly why she never seems like a real human being. For instance, she has the innate ability to be offensive and not know it - we're supposed to believe she's accidentally racist, and that she accidentally insults homosexuals without realising how awful she's being. It's cheap, unbelievable characterisation. And when Meredith starts to loosen up a bit, the moment doesn't come naturally: it feels forced by the demands of the script to bring about a new plot point. Then there are the Stones, who are stubborn and arrogant. Who the hell are viewers supposed to root for or latch onto in such a situation? Well, nobody, unfortunately.

Throughout The Family Stone's first two acts, most every scene appears to have been awkwardly formulated to create contrived conflict. Sure, this type of stuff could have worked, but it's entirely ineffective without a sense of humanity. The characters never achieve any semblance of depth; they're all empty ciphers saddled with a stereotype as if Bezucha was working from a laundry list of characters to include. Take, for instance, Thad, who's easily the most likeable of the bunch, but who seems to have been born out of the writer-director's self-congratulatory attitude. After all, Thad is deaf and homosexual, and his life partner is an African American man. The two do not ring as authentic people; it feels as if they were included just so the director could just pat himself on the back. Making matters worse is how contrived most of the proceedings are. Most notably, the Stones instantly spit poison at Meredith but seem to immediately love Meredith's younger sister Julie. Before they even get to know Julie, the family seem fine with the notion of her getting involved with family members. Add to this mixture a major character suffering from a terminal illness for more tear-wringing, and The Family Stone feels far too calculated for its own good.

The ensemble cast is a mixed bag. Craig T. Nelson did a great job as the family's soft-spoken patriarch, while Luke Wilson, Rachel McAdams and Tyrone Giordano are all strong, but everyone else fails to make much of an impact (even Claire Danes is forgettable). To their credit, it looks like the predominantly talented cast gave it their best, but they're ultimately hamstrung by such a laboured screenplay.

Exacerbating the issue of the unlikeable characters is that writer-director Thomas Bezucha has a poor grasp on pacing and storytelling. The Family Stone doesn't ever come alive and engage with lively writing or a sense of genuine momentum; it just sits there on the screen, unfolding in a drab, routine manner. It has a handful of nice moments throughout, but as a whole the film fails to gel. The attempts at comedy often fall flat and the dramatic scenes simply aren't very powerful, while the shifts between these two competing tones are often jarring. As the end credits began to roll on The Family Stone, this reviewer was left with a very sour feeling indeed.

3.7/10

With their school years finally coming to a close, Will (Simon Bird), Simon (Joe Thomas), Jay (James Buckley) and Neil (Blake Harrison) finish their A-levels and prepare to leave Rudge Park Comprehensive to start the next chapter of their lives, including University and full-time work. However, Simon's girlfriend and long-time crush, Carli (Emily Head), breaks up with Simon due to the uncertainty of their impending years of tertiary education, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. To help Simon get over his depression and to celebrate the end of school, the four decide to go on a "lads holiday" together in Malia, Crete, for a fortnight of relaxation, booze, girls and (hopefully) sex. Not long after their arrival, the troupe encounter a group of females with whom they strike up a tentative bond. Unfortunately, though, Carli is also holidaying in Malia with her friends, and Simon is still besotted with his ex, harbouring delusions that they can still patch things up and get back together.

Although some film adaptations feel fundamentally different to their television counterparts, The Inbetweeners Movie carries the same verve and style as the sitcom (right down to Will providing occasional voiceovers) while adding a layer of theatrical polish. With filming taking place in many of the same locations as the show, there is a comforting feeling of familiarity, making this an organic companion piece to the series. Additionally, with Morris and Beesley beginning work on the script before writing the show's third season, The Inbetweeners Movie tells a worthwhile story that follows on from the events of the series. In other words, it is not a forced, redundant continuation. Coming-of-age tales are not uncommon, but we do not often see this type of story that involves patiently developed characters we have come to know and love over several years. While the narrative is somewhat generic, the filmmakers at least handle it with sincerity, and it is rewarding to see this foursome at long last growing up after three seasons of pure immaturity. Thus, their character arcs (although predictable) feel more earned and emotionally satisfying. Additionally, writers Morris and Beesley have the good sense to not treat the story's female characters as mere eye candy or perfunctory plot pawns; instead, they have depth and feelings, adding mirth and emotional intrigue.

The popularity of The Inbetweeners endures because the show displays an astute understanding of the teenage mindset. Thankfully, Morris and Beesley carry these qualities to this feature film, with razor-sharp dialogue and hilarious observations about teen behaviour. Additionally, sending the boys to an island in Greece via a cheap holiday package gives the writers new targets for their humour (including flight delays, grungy accommodation, sleazy holidays representatives, nightclub entrance scams, etc.) while also allowing the boys to do what they do best: drinking alcohol, stripping naked, vomiting, farting, saying the wrong things, and trying their hardest to get girls but failing hilariously. Nevertheless, The Inbetweeners Movie falls short of perfection. There are copious moments of greatness, but the film sometimes does drag, especially in the third act. The plot feels somewhat bloated, diminishing some of the franchise's trademark punch.

Expectedly, all the actors here seem entirely at ease with their characters at this point. Leading the pack is Simon Bird, who perfectly sells the social awkwardness shtick in the role of Will. Like the show, Bird narrates the story, and his spot-on delivery, coupled with the witty writing, makes for several moments of inspired hilarity. On top of this, Bird also shines in the more tender moments, such as when he nervously watches his dalliance undress on a beach. The rest of the boys are equally good; they genuinely inhabit their roles, share remarkable chemistry, and effortlessly alternate between the dramatic and the hilarious. In particular, James Buckley routinely steals the show with his vulgar, rapid-fire one-liners that are an endless source of amusement. The performers are also surprisingly versatile, and their efforts here should serve as a springboard for bigger and better things post-Inbetweeners. Meanwhile, the female ensemble - consisting of Laura Haddock, Emily Head, Tamla Kari, Jessica Knappet and Lydia Rose Bewley - keeps up with the boys every step of the way, placing forth strong performances with ideal comic timing. Also of note in the cast is Greg Davies as series regular Mr. Gilbert, who threatens to steal the entire movie with an opening rant that had this humble reviewer in tears of laughter. It is a bit of a shame, then, that Davies disappears from the film immediately following his uproarious tirade.

The thing about The Inbetweeners as a franchise is that the creators wanted to wrap it up while it was still brilliant instead of milking it to exhaustion and risk sacrificing the show's overall integrity. Now that the boys have finished school and seem poised for a bright future, the creators can now safely put the franchise and these characters to bed. Thus, the conclusion to The Inbetweeners Movie feels weighty and poignant, as the foursome are about to head to University and will most likely start to grow apart. Sure, the ending is a bit sappy, but it feels earned; these boys have been through so many humiliations and failures, so they deserve an optimistic ending. Unfortunately, despite no initial plans for further Inbetweeners content, a follow-up film, The Inbetweeners 2, was released in 2014, which ruins many of this picture's story developments.

8.2/10

The primary creative force behind Lady Magdalene's, J. Neil Schulman, may be somewhat of a successful novelist, but he cannot in good conscience add filmmaking to his list of credentials. While Schulman wants you to believe that Lady Magdalene's is a smart action-comedy satirising today's post-9/11 climate, the resulting picture is an agonising catastrophe; it's a two-hour black hole of tedium from which absolutely no joy can escape. This is not a case of "so bad it's good" like Plan 9 From Outer Space or The Room - instead, Schulman's movie is so bad that it's just really, really bad. As of December 2011, Lady Magdalene's has not been picked up for major distribution. The closest thing to distribution that Schulman could manage was an endorsement from a shady meal supplement company and uploading the rancid movie to YouTube. If that's not a red flag about the movie's quality, I don't know what is.

After IRS agent Jack Goldwater (Ethan Keogh) is humiliated when he tries to detain a suspicious-looking Arab-American on a plane, he is relieved of his Federal Air Marshal duties and busted down to an embarrassing desk job. Jack's assignment is to take control of a Nevada brothel run by Lady Magdalene, a.k.a. Maggie (Nichelle Nichols). As Jack begins to settle in, one of the prostitutes is murdered, triggering an investigation. The murder raises suspicion with Jack, in particular, who soon finds out that it may be tied to a larger terrorist threat to the entire nation.

The technical shortcomings of Lady Magdalene's stick out the most - a sense of amateurism hangs over this frequently ugly-looking film. However, perhaps the term "amateurish" is a bit too flattering since YouTube filmmakers can produce superior movies. Cinematographer Scott MacDonald should never be allowed to work again - various shots throughout the film are too overexposed, blending skin tones with rocks or walls. Additionally, the camera is often shaky for no rhyme or reason, while the framing reveals that the camera operators must have an exceedingly poor grasp of such essential principles as headroom and looking room. It seems the filmmakers also fail to realise that abrupt zooms look incredibly unprofessional. There is absolutely no style or sense of visual flair here. The action is meant to be exciting, yet even parody movies like Hot Shots! have better action. The comedy is intended to be funny, but the flick is obnoxiously laughless. And forget about it being "sexy"...

Lady Magdalene's was apparently produced for $500,000, but you wouldn't know it considering the drab colour scheme and incompetent special effects. The green-screening and digital compositing are notoriously bad, especially during driving scenes. For fuck's sake, rear projection techniques in the '50s look positively immaculate compared to the green-screening here. Compounding this awfulness, the editing is often harsh and jarring, while the sound mixing is pure amateur hour - for instance, ringtones are not properly integrated into the environment, as they sound like a piece of the score added in post-production. Speaking of the soundtrack, the music is often overbearing, grating and inappropriate; Daniel May's compositions would be better suited for a fucking elevator. Of course, technically inferior films can still be entertaining, but Schulman provides absolutely nothing as compensation for his shoddy filmmaking. Lady Magdalene's is poorly-paced, and Schulman has absolutely no understanding of comic timing. Admittedly, a few moments have comedic potential, but the delivery is way off. (The James Bond references are cringe-worthy.) For the most part, the dialogue is tin-eared as well. Nothing ever engages you at any point during the picture's unbearably prolonged 120-minute runtime.

J. Neil Schulman is an untalented hack, not a filmmaker in any sense of the word. The main problem with Lady Magdalene's is the lack of authority that permeates the picture. In great films like The Godfather, every frame feels puppeteered by a director who is in control of his movie. In Lady Magdalene's, scenes routinely unfold in an undisciplined manner, as if Schulman filmed a single take of every slate because he didn't feel comfortable giving his performers strong direction. Schulman's staging and mise-en-scène are often poor, as well - take, for example, a fight in a brothel that literally looks as if Schulman filmed a lackadaisical first rehearsal and called it a day. Fucking hell, even firearm techniques are lax, with performers wandering around half-heartedly brandishing their guns even though their characters are meant to be professionals. Exacerbating this is a facepalm-inducing instance of product placement, as a character reads director Schulman's own book, Escape from Heaven, in one scene. The sense of narcissism is overpowering. We get it, Neil: you love yourself.

Amidst all this is a cast one can't help but pity. Former Star Trek regular Nichelle Nichols is the most seasoned and professional actor in the cast, but she overdoes her performance as the titular Lady Magdalene, and it looks like she is mugging the camera. Ethan Keogh and Mark Gilvary are the only ones who show a degree of potential here, with Keogh emitting genuine charm and Gilvary scoring the only laughs in the entire picture (one of which is an outtake, mind you). These two aren't perfect, though - Keogh seems frequently bored, and his comedic delivery is flat, while Gilvary's performance is in dire need of discipline since he sometimes rambles. The rest of the actors range from unbelievably bad to merely serviceable. Even writer-director Schulman himself waddles into the frame to play a role, placing forth a performance dripping with unearned egotism and repulsive overconfidence. Schulman spouts his lines with a knowing wink as if to imply that he believes his writing is the pinnacle of excellence.

Somewhere inside Lady Magdalene's is a promising idea for an action-comedy, but the potential is utterly wasted in the hands of J. Neil Schulman. The script is slipshod, the cinematic techniques bring shame to the term "cinematic technique", and the actors often look bored out of their minds. Great films put us under a spell and engage our attention, but during Lady Magdalene's, you'll be left struggling to accept the poor filmmaking and desperately trying to endure the awfulness with your sanity intact. And then, just when you think it's over (and fucking hope it's over, for the sake of your well-being), there's an entirely superfluous 20-minute end credit reel consisting of a few music videos (I think?), outtakes (again, I think?), and maybe some deleted scenes, or something? All of this malarkey only serves to prolong the agonising experience of Lady Magdalene's and remind you that you have just wasted precious hours of your life you will never get back. I'd rather do time in Guantanamo Bay than watch this travesty again. Don't quit your day job, Neil.

0.5/10

A troubled couple undergoing marriage counselling, Lloyd (Kevin Spacey) and Caroline (Judy Davis) constantly fight and bicker, with divorce seemingly a likely outcome. It is Christmas Eve, and nothing but gloom lies ahead for the pair, who will soon welcome their highly dysfunctional extended family. Elsewhere in town, cat burglar Gus (Denis Leary) is on the run from local police after a failed attempt to rob an affluent mansion. With the police setting up roadblocks, Gus takes hostages - and, unfortunately for him, he chooses Lloyd and Caroline. Bad choice. Although Gus should be in control since he has a gun, the thief soon finds himself in an intolerable situation as the couple fiercely argue into the night. Further complicating the situation is the unexpected presence of Lloyd and Caroline's son, Jesse (Robert J. Steinmiller Jr.), while Lloyd's family are still en route to the house to celebrate Christmas. Trying to weather the storm, Gus poses as Lloyd and Caroline's therapist in front of their family while the police expand their search.

A dark comedy inhabited by unlikeable and morally questionable individuals, The Ref is an agreeable reprieve from feel-good, saccharine-coated, family-friendly Christmas pictures. In the vein of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the movie explores dysfunctional family dynamics and the tensions between families that normally remain hidden. Furthermore, the script takes satirical jabs at the typical, worthless presents that families often gift each other but everyone actually despises (socks, sweaters, and so on). Although The Ref is not necessarily a mature examination of the difficulties of marriage, the screenplay does effectively highlight the ridiculousness of some couples who launch into a full-blown argument over the most minor and insignificant things. Although the movie momentarily slips from the misanthropic to the sentimental as the final act kicks in, the tonal change feels somewhat earned, leading to an agreeably unconventional climax. Demme reshot the ending following negative test screenings, though the director later regretted the change. Your mileage may vary, but this reviewer believes the theatrical ending is fitting and satisfying.

The Ref features a uniformly excellent cast. Kevin Spacey (pre-downfall) and Judy Davis are ideal as Lloyd and Caroline, delivering their side-splitting dialogue with incredible zest and comedic energy. Their verbal sparring also possesses a nasty edge since they do not fight cutely; instead, they ferociously battle with tongues sharp enough to slice someone's fucking jugular. As long as you can overlook the recent allegations against Spacey, the actor is terrific here. Equally funny is stand-up comedian and MTV star Denis Leary, who worked with Demme on MTV spots and a Showtime comedy special. The Ref was Leary's first film project as the top-billed star, and he manages to make Gus both menacing and oddly likeable. With an almost unending supply of uproarious one-liners, Leary is a comedic delight here, and he also plays exceptionally well off his co-stars. In supporting roles, we have Glynis Johns (late of Mary Poppins) as Lloyd's big-mouthed monster of a mother (who even manages to draw Gus's ire), while the always-eccentric Christine Baranski often steals the spotlight as Lloyd's sister-in-law.

Aside from the cast, the dialogue is the flick's biggest asset. Bursting with razor-sharp, constantly hilarious and incisive dialogue, The Ref continually maintains interest as the actors deliver their witty lines with delightful relish. Late director Ted Demme (nephew of Oscar-nominated director Jonathan Demme) learned the filmmaking ropes at MTV, but he thankfully eschews flashy visual mannerisms here. Thus, The Ref is welcomely free of gimmicky filmmaking, and Demme perpetually keeps the narrative engaging through astute editing and the terrific performances. The Ref's only problem is that the material outside Lloyd and Caroline's household only occasionally works. While it is amusing to witness the incompetence of the bumbling police officers, and Raymond J. Barry is great as a police lieutenant, other material is less successful (Barry's character has a subplot involving infidelity and losing his job that ultimately leads nowhere).

With its perfect cast and uproarious screenplay, plus scenes with It's a Wonderful Life playing on the television, The Ref possesses all the earmarks of a genuine Christmas classic, making it unsurprising that it is a Christmastime staple for many households despite its misanthropic tone. Ahead of its time with its cynical attitude towards Christmas, it is a great companion piece to 2003's Bad Santa, and a double feature of the two would make for excellent holiday viewing for those with a disdain for the festive season.

8.5/10

The anarchic King Hyperion (Rourke) is looking to conquer mortal men, and begins searching for a God-like weapon known as the Epirus Bow to help him unleash the malevolent Titans. Hyperion achieving his goals would bring about mankind's destruction, as well as the end of the reign of Zeus (Evans) and his pantheon of Gods. After witnessing the desecration of his village and the death of his mother at the hands of Hyperion, skilled peasant Theseus (Cavill) vows revenge. As Hyperion rallies his troops, Theseus prepares for the battle of his life with assistance from thief Stavros (Dorff) and virgin oracle Phaedra (Pinto) whose visions imply that disaster is ahead.

Comparing Immortals to 300 on the basis of how it looks is unfair - Singh's film may share the same producers, but it's not much like Zach Snyder's earlier feature at all. Snyder set out to replicate the look and feel of a Frank Miller graphic novel, but Singh's visual style is inspired by ancient Baroque art (that is, sculptures and paintings which are exaggerated and ornately detailed to convey as much information as possible without words). The exact essence of Baroque has been captured by Tarsem and cinematographer Brendan Galvin, who have used phenomenal shot composition and a gorgeous colour scheme to communicate drama and chaos with minimal lines of dialogue. It's a truly masterful approach. After all, movies are a visual medium and, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Every nickel of Immortals' estimated $75 million budget is accounted for on the screen, with lavish costumes, highly-detailed sets, and plenty of digital effects which infinitely extend the film's scope. While blockbusters with a surplus of CGI usually fail to gel, the technique actually works here because the effects are solid and have weight and inertia, and it suits the aesthetic.

The narrative eventually culminates with a concluding act dedicated to action and warfare, with Hyperion charging the final stronghold of men and looking to breach the Titans' mountain prison. Immortals has isolated action beats throughout the first two acts that leave you breathless, but the climax is a spectacle beyond belief. Tarsem avoided the shaky-cam/rapid-fire editing approach which is notorious for turning action into an incomprehensible blur. Instead, the framing is often wide and sturdy, allowing us to enjoy the carnage and actually watch the terrific fight choreography. There is the occasional use of slow motion whenever the Gods are around due to their superhuman speed, but the technique is not frequent or distracting. If anything, there's not enough slo-mo, because there's so much violent awesomeness to see and so little time to properly absorb it. On this basis, Immortals deserves multiple viewings. Granted, it's difficult to get emotionally invested in the picture's story and characters, but it's also difficult to tear your eyes away from the screen because it's constantly bursting with rich, layered, enthralling imagery.

As Theseus, Henry Cavill (a.k.a. the new Superman in Zack Snyder's Man of Steel) admittedly has difficulties trying to act tough, but he's nevertheless sincere and earnest, and he has a likeable screen presence. (His work here is definitely better than Sam Worthington's performance in Clash of the Titans.) Meanwhile, it seems like Mickey Rourke had a grand old time chewing the scenery as the wicked King Hyperion. Mickey's performance affords the film a genuine sense of gravitas, and the star is not as underused here as he was in Iron Man 2. Digging into the supporting cast, a surprisingly ripped Stephen Dorff is solid as Stavros, while Freida Pinto was a good pick for the virgin oracle. Rounding out the cast is Luke Evans, who's terrific and intense as Zeus' God form.

Perhaps the biggest shortcoming of Immortals is the lingering sense that there should be more - more to the journey, more to the narrative, and more to the scope in general. It leaves you thinking that a bigger budget could have allowed for an extra 20 or 30 minutes of material to leave the film feeling truly epic. However, none of this implies that Immortals is unsatisfying. On the contrary, it's an almost instant classic, and it says something about the quality of the movie if your biggest criticism is that it leaves you wanting more of it. While Immortals fails to pack the emotional punch of 300 or Gladiator, this is a beautifully-rendered flick which delivers what it promised on the tin. In other words, if you're a joyless cynic you'll probably hate it, but if you can embrace the material and appreciate the choice of visual storytelling, you'll enjoy yourself immensely.

7.6/10

A Christmastime staple, Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life is a rare film which has withstood the test of time and continues to touch millions of people through its themes, boundless appeal, and emotional power. Admittedly, compared to Miracle on 34th Street or National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, It's a Wonderful Life is not exactly a Christmas film in the classical sense - after all, only the finale occurs on Christmas Eve, and the story has nothing to do with Santa Claus. Nevertheless, this film encapsulates the true spirit of the holiday: the value of family and friends, and the importance of giving rather than receiving. Furthermore, It's a Wonderful Life can be watched at any time of the year because of its feel-good themes as well as its potent message about the significance of a single human soul.

The story commences on Christmas Eve, with a chorus line of prayers originating from the small town of Bedford Falls pleading for the angels to aid the despairing George Bailey (James Stewart). The unsung hero of Bedford Falls, George aspired to travel the world and study at University, but was forced to relinquish his dreams to manage his late father's business to make sure it won't fall into the hands of wealthy schemer Mr Potter (Lionel Barrymore). George always acts in the interests of others, and in his adult life, he marries the beautiful Mary (Donna Reed) with whom he has four beautiful children. However, financial problems and personal issues suddenly mount, overwhelming George and plunging him into a tragic abyss of despair. Enter George's guardian angel Clarence (Henry Travers), who arrives from Heaven to heighten the depressed man's spirits. To achieve this end, Clarence shows George a vision of a world in which he never existed.

Flashbacks constitute the first two-thirds of It's a Wonderful Life, with Clarence learning about George's background and observing the events leading up to his suicide contemplation. Such a device is a structural masterstroke, as it allows viewers to see George's past alongside Clarence. Additionally, the script meticulously develops George's character while the knowledge of his depression sits at the back of our minds. Conveying an entire movie's worth of material, Capra accommodates the full breadth of George's life, treating it with the care it deserves. We become immersed in George's existence, and we fall in love with the man; it seems impossible that anything could threaten to destroy his life, or he could lose his temper. This brand of gentle, enthralling character development is gratifying and essential, letting us see what's at stake when Clarence at long last descends to earth to meet George. And since we grow to love George so much, the climax is all the more poignant (almost unbearably so).

It's a Wonderful Life is such an effective feel-good movie because it asserts the notion that everyone, regardless of how insignificant they may seem, can make a difference. The angels describe life as "God's greatest gift", and Capra delivers the message that worldly riches mean nothing compared to love, family, friends, honesty and integrity. This all culminates with a goosebump-inducing finale, which never fails to leave this reviewer a blubbering mess. Indeed, anybody who is not moved by the flick's final few minutes should wonder what is wrong with them. Additionally, It's a Wonderful Life is so often referred to as cheesy and sentimental, but it's also surprisingly dark at times. The lead-up to George's depression is heart-wrenching in its bleakness, and George's lurid odyssey through Pottersville - a community in which he was never born - contains traces of film noir, as it's realistically gloomy.

Capra makes the most of the estimated $3 million budget; It's a Wonderful Life is a technically impressive motion picture from top to bottom. The fictional town of Bedford Falls seems authentic, as the crew actually constructed an elaborate main street consisting of numerous buildings and stores; consequently, it feels like a lived-in town as opposed to a studio back-lot. Additionally, filming took place during summer months, necessitating the creation of artificial snow. Fake snow often fails to convince, but every flake of snow in It's a Wonderful Life looks genuine. Admittedly, there are a few technical issues, such as wide shots not precisely matching close-ups, or a shonky transition as Clarence disappears during a scuffle, but such shortcomings scarcely matter. Capra's pacing is magnificent, while the black & white, 35mm photography (courtesy of three credited cinematographers) bursts with visual flair. And although the film is vehemently a drama, gentle humour livens the proceedings from time to time, making the viewing experience even more delightful.

While Capra and his co-writers (Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett) deserve some of the recognition for It's a Wonderful Life's brilliance, Stewart's immaculate performance truly makes the film work. Stewart portrays George Bailey with a deft mixture of innocence and integrity, not to mention humanity and fallibility, which ensures viewers will root for him from the outset. Stewart fits the role like a glove - he's amiable and convincing, and his desperation and despair is increasingly apparent when he's submerged into the vision of Pottersville. Equally striking is Reed as George's wife, Mary. Reed was not Capra's first choice, but it's hard to imagine anyone else in the role, as she embodies the sweetness required to convincingly capture George's heart. Meanwhile, as George's guardian angel, Travers is utterly charming. The rest of the supporting cast is just as impressive - Barrymore emanates cunning and malice as the wicked Potter, while Thomas Mitchell makes for an endearing (albeit incompetent) Uncle Billy. Capra never allows a faulty acting moment to sneak into his masterpiece.

With It's a Wonderful Life's strong reputation and almost unanimous acclaim, it's difficult to believe that it was not a hit during its theatrical release. In addition to mixed reviews, the box office earnings were underwhelming, which doomed Capra's newly established production company, Liberty Films. It earned a few Academy Award nominations, but won nothing at the ceremony. Subsequently, It's a Wonderful Life fell into relative obscurity until the picture's copyright expired and it entered the public domain, meaning that television stations could play it ad nauseam without the need to pay royalties. Thus, it was used as a TV time-filler during the Christmas season, resulting in its rediscovery by a whole new generation. At last, decades later, the reviews were uniformly positive, and It's a Wonderful Life received the love and acclaim it always deserved. If It's a Wonderful Life was never created, the world would have been worse off for it.

An elderly battle axe of a teaching veteran, Barbara Covett (Dench) enjoys writing in her diary on a constant basis, chronicling fantasies and experiences as she gossips for her own entertainment. Past the age of 70, Barbara is approaching retirement, and has become overly cynical and disenfranchised with today's youth and school system. Enter naïve new high school teacher Sheba Hart (Blanchett), whose idealistic aspirations exceed her abilities, and who has trouble fitting in with the experienced educators. Sheba finds a good, strong friend in Barbara, though, and the pair hit it off marvellously. However, Barbara soon witnesses Sheba having a sexual tryst with 15-year-old schoolboy Steven (Simpson). She agrees to protect the secret, but begins advising Sheba on what to do about the situation, all the while harbouring a more sinister agenda.

Notes on a Scandal is so effective thanks to its penchant for fascinating character psychology. With the narrative framed by voiceovers in the form of entries in Barbara's private journal, we are invited into Barbara's head from the very outset. On the surface Barbara seems like a sweet, frail old woman, but her acerbic internal thoughts provide an effective snapshot of her calculating mind that's overloaded with pretentious, unforgiving thoughts as she discusses her recent conquests and schemes. Barbara is the antagonist of the film of course, and your sympathies will likely be with Sheba due to how human she is, but Barbara is nevertheless fleshed-out and three-dimensional enough that you cannot flat-out label her as a bad person. Another strong suit of Notes on a Scandal is the dialogue, which is consistently engaging. Screenwriter Patrick Marber (who also wrote Closer) has done a phenomenal job of translating the book to the screen, leading to a much-deserved Oscar nomination.

Marber's script was magnificently brought to life by director Richard Eyre, whose efforts keep the film moving forward at a swift pace with literally no lags or boring patches. Sure, it'd be easy to craft a great movie with such a superlative script and this ensemble of fantastic performers, but it fell to Eyre to keep the film tight and disciplined; a task he fulfilled magnificently. Such luminosity extends to the Oscar-nominated score by Phillip Glass, which is permeated with layers of strings to add further dimension to the onscreen action. On a less positive note, though, Notes on a Scandal falters as it approaches the finish line. Writer Patrick Marber lightened up the tone of the ending of Heller's book, leading to a poor final scene that feels too mainstream-friendly. Ultimately, the conclusion does not match the story's potential, and it flames out on a note of "meh" rather than staying true to the dark emotional intensity preceding it.

At its heart, Notes on a Scandal is a masterclass of acting, with Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett perfectly bringing life to their flawed, multifaceted characters. Dench has consistently shown that she's a versatile actress, but here she manages to surprise us yet again. While the role asked for Dench to be cruel and callous, she also had to sell the character's vulnerability as well as Barbara's sweet old woman exterior. Remarkably, she pulled it off. This could be Dench's finest performance to date; she's a tour de force, tackling the role of Barbara as if it was tailored for her. Her work is deliciously rich as well, making multiple viewings absolutely essential in order to catch all of the nuances on display. Meanwhile, Cate Blanchett is a perfect acting foil for Dench. Enthralling and emotionally dense, Blanchett inhabits the role; you feel as if you're seeing Sheba instead of just Blanchett. Not to be overlooked, the often comically-oriented Bill Nighy proves here that he's a strong dramatic actor. His interactions with Sheba and his Down Syndrome-suffering son are perfectly naturalistic and convincing, and a scene discussing Sheba's schoolboy dalliance proves that Nighy can handle intensity and emotion.

Student-teacher relations are certainly a topical issue in this day and age. Such criminal offenses are alarmingly common, and each case often gets plenty of press. A very adult film, Notes on a Scandal tenderly explores these types of relationships within the context of a transfixing psychological thriller brimming with emotional intensity. Viewers expecting a Dench/Blanchett pair-up to play for more a conservative or mainstream audience are advised to take note of its subject matter before watching.

7.8/10

Opening on Christmas Eve in the 1970s, 5-year-old Billy is looking forward to receiving presents from his beloved Santa Claus. However, Billy's mentally disturbed grandfather (Hare) shatters his excitement and frightens the impressionable youth, warning Billy that Father Christmas will punish the naughty children. The lad's fear is only exacerbated when he subsequently witnesses his parents being brutally murdered by a man in a Santa costume. Following this, Billy and his little brother are sent to a Catholic orphanage where Billy's psychological trauma is worsened by the nuns' strictness. Fast forward 10 years, and Billy (Wilson) is a productive member of society with a job at a local toy store. But when Christmas season approaches, Billy's boss forces the traumatised boy to don a Santa outfit and act as the jolly big man. Things do not go well, however - Billy snaps, grabs an axe, and sets out to punish all the naughty boys and girls.

The entire first half of Silent Night, Deadly Night is dedicated to exposition, with the flick delving into every detail of Billy's childhood and Santa-related traumas. For an '80s slasher, it's rather commendable that writer Michael Hickey and director Charles E. Sellier Jr. were willing to use so much time setting up the characters before Billy's murderous rampage. Additionally, Sellier's direction is surprisingly accomplished, giving the picture a stark, grim feeling and infusing several scenes with genuine tension (even if the murder set-pieces are predictable). Nonetheless, Silent Night, Deadly Night takes itself a tad too seriously. Some scenes are unintentionally funny, but at other times the film goes through the ridiculous motions with such a straight face that it feels vile and callous instead of delightfully campy. Worse, the score is nails-on-a-chalkboard grating. Perhaps the film's biggest sin, though, is that it feels worthless and gutless; there's no intelligence or any sort of rationale behind the violence. One could contend that it comments on unnecessarily over-the-top disciplinary methods, but the film's treatment of this is entirely surface-level, as the nuns are painted in broad strokes of black and white as flat-out evil.

At least one can laugh at the idiocy of Silent Night, Deadly Night from time to time. For instance, when Billy is working as Santa at the toy store, he's clearly awkward and vindictive towards the children, but he goes through the day without a single complaint. Lulwhat? Added to this, a nun rings the toy store and finds out that Billy is playing Santa, but doesn't bother to warn anyone about the potential dangers of this...she just hangs up the phone and heads to her car. Good thinking. And what would a slasher be without dumb murder victims? A policeman guarding the local orphanage decides to sweep the outside of the building (instead of doing any, you know, actual guarding), making himself a prime target. His police tactics are laughable in every respect here. And the nuns don't even bother to lock the front door of the orphanage despite firmly believing that Billy is on his way.

Ultimately, slashers like Silent Night, Deadly Night are pretty much critic-proof, because they have their niche audience who'll enjoy the movie regardless of how forgettable, conventional and unremarkable it is. And hey, this sleazy flick is sporadically enjoyable. Nevertheless, this premise should have been done better, as the flick generates an aura of sadism more often than one of schlocky glee, leading to unmistakable banality.

4.8/10