Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Helmed by film critic-turned-director Lindsay Anderson, If.... is an acidic assault on the imbalance of power and an experimental ode to revolution. Due to the nature of the movie, the executives at Paramount Pictures hated it and subsequently shelved it when they first received the final product in late 1968. Months afterwards, Barbarella flopped and a replacement was needed, and this lead to the emergency release of If.... in 1969. The studio feared it would perform terribly, but were shocked when If.... became a tremendous critical and commercial success. In fact, the film unexpectedly attracted huge queues stretching for kilometres outside of cinemas. Today, Lindsay Anderson's film strikes a powerful chord, with the message as well as the methods by which the antiheroes get their vengeance now coming across as eerily prophetic.

If.... begins with a picturesque examination of a day in the lives of several boys who are committed to an education at a traditional English boarding school. The school, however, is governed by a strict, archaic set of rules. Hair must be a certain length, freshman boys are required to know the names of the seniors, and specific materials must be in specific drawers in each boy's desk. The authority over the students is placed with appointed seniors known as the Whips, who rule with an iron fist and abuse power at every turn. If the Whips feel that the boys have stepped out of line, they mete out punishments ranging from cold showers to humiliating beatings. Resisting the rules is a trio of seniors: Mick Travis (McDowell), Johnny (Wood) and Wallace (Warwick). The film traces the characters' transition from smart-aleck punks to outspoken rebels.

Director Lindsay Anderson paints an ugly, scornful picture of the boarding school and the English system that enforces these sadistic, meaningless rules to maintain discipline. Anderson clearly sides with the rebels throughout, even if they resort to violence. The so-called headmaster (Jeffrey) is shown to be a phoney who mouths platitudes about accepting social change but never allows for this change to occur. One of the many charms of If.... is in the title: there's the lingering question of how much is real, and how much is fantasy. As the film wears on, Anderson weaves more and more fantastical elements into the narrative, to the point that you have no idea how much is real. A lot of controversy particularly surrounds the infamous final scene. During graduation, Mick and his friends smoke out the congregation and begin shooting at them from a rooftop. By this point, Anderson has blended fantasy, reality and surrealism to such an extent that it's difficult to tell if the final scene is real or fantasy. Thus, If.... is filmmaking at its finest; engaging your brain, staying with you, and leaving lingering questions long after the end credits have expired.

Throughout the film, Anderson keeps us on our toes by constantly shifting gears. Scenes fluctuate from colour to black and white, and weird things appear to be happening constantly. Some scenes border on the mundane, while others shift between hilarity and horror. Cinematographer Miroslav Ondrícek was unable to adequately illuminate the interior of the church for the film, so the cash-strapped director opted for black and white photography. For effect, Anderson selectively added several other black and white sequences. Whenever the shift occurs from colour to monochrome, the entire mood shifts with it. For these sequences, the absence of colour affords a surreal gravitas - they automatically come across as more serene than the colour scenes. Additionally, the B&W scenes have a narrative importance, and thus the switch signals that something crucial is about to take place. If.... is also positively bursting with talent. Along with Ondrícek's competent photography, future director Stephen Frears (The Queen) served as assistant director, while Chris Menges was a camera operator (Menges would go on to photograph The Reader and The Killing Fields, to name a couple).

Although the cast is an ensemble, Malcolm McDowell undoubtedly stands out more than the rest of the actors. One would imagine that this is due to the career that McDowell ended up enjoying, but even if one divorces themselves from fandom, McDowell is absolutely magnetic and enthralling whenever he's on the screen. There are a handful of other fine performances within If.... courtesy of such actors as David Wood, Richard Warwick and Christine Noonan, but McDowell's face and eyes take charge of every frame in which they appear. Stanley Kubrick even admitted to watching this film many times, and consequently If.... became McDowell's audition for his most iconic role as the lead in A Clockwork Orange.

Palpably inspired by Jean Vigo's 1933 picture Zéro de conduite: Jeunes diables au college (a.k.a. Zero for Conduct), Lindsay Anderson's If.... remains a haunting classic. Admittedly, it's a bit of a chore to get through from time to time and it's more of curiosity than an enjoyable film, but these are the only drawbacks of an otherwise fine motion picture. Seen today in the light of massacres at such educational establishments as Columbine and Virginia Tech, If.... is sadly prophetic and almost unbearably relevant, but back in 1968 Anderson made the film as a precautionary tale, hence the title. Despite its shortcomings, the film remains a vicious indictment of the shocking class system in the United Kingdom, and will most likely be remembered as a satiric masterpiece which feels all too real.

8.2/10

At Christmastime, everybody loves a good turkey. Santa with Muscles, however, is an example of an insufferable turkey of the cinematic variety. It's not even a "so bad it's good" turkey in the vein of Plan 9 from Outer Space, but instead a dreary, dull, enervating motion picture lacking so much as a modicum of personality. Directed with all the flair of a Disney Channel original movie, Santa with Muscles is hopelessly marred by a script loaded with unfunny puns and broad, excruciatingly unfunny slapstick. The cast members seem barely awake, and the cinematography can best be described as workmanlike. Thankfully, it swiftly exited cinemas after its 1996 release and rapidly slipped into obscurity, and now the majority of the world is blissfully unaware of its existence. Perhaps there is a God.

Hulk Hogan plays a soulless millionaire named Blake who has made a fortune from selling his own brand of protein powders and other assorted bodybuilding supplements. Through a number of contrivances too ludicrous to go into, Blake ends up on the run from the police. He ends up hiding in a shopping mall wearing a Santa Claus costume. After a knock on the head, Blake suffers from amnesia and one of the mall elves manages to convince Blake that he is in fact Santa Claus. Through several other contrivances too depressing to go into, Blake ends up at a local orphanage which is in trouble. See, some conventionally evil scientist (I think) named Ebner Frost (Begley Jr.) wants to buy it or close it or something... I'm unsure about the specifics, as I stopped paying attention after five or six minutes. Screw all the orphans, I say! Burn down the orphanage and sell the kids into slavery!

Once the story is in place, there are a lot of pratfalls, car chases, car crashes and instances of silly fisticuffs, along with a few elaborate stunts and some low-rent special effects. None of this stuff is particularly inspired, however. The screenplay is equally dreary. The orphans are cloyingly cute, the bad guys are frenetically cartoonish, and the humour is broad and painfully unfunny. Several questions sprang to mind while I viewed this film. Firstly, "Why the fuck did studio executives agree to fund this dirge?", followed by (in no particular order) "What were they thinking?", "Was everyone on drugs while making this?" and "Why the fuck did I decide to watch this?". For God's sake, a few people must have had a conversation about making this movie, and decided it was worth spending several million dollars on. They must have commissioned a script and hired other people to work on the movie, too. How the hell does this stuff happen?

Everything about this motion picture is completely inept, from the painful puns to the incompetent action scenes to the thick layer of sappiness and schmaltz which covers the entire enterprise. For crying out loud, bad puns include "Santa, you sleigh me". It hurts. It deeply, profoundly hurts. And the cheesiness puts Disney movies to shame (I shit you not). According to the Internet Movie Database, the original screenwriter felt that his draft was changed so much that he sued to have his writing credit removed. Such a move is totally understandable. And hell, the three still-credited writers for the film have never written anything else before or after Santa with Muscles. Director John Murlowski may still be working as of 2010, but his efforts here are atrocious. Amateur YouTube users are capable of more coherent, exciting, fluid action set-pieces than those which are on display in Santa with Muscles for viewers to enjoy (endure?).

During the noughties, several professional wrestlers made the transition to questionable acting careers (The Rock, John Cena, and so on). Many people forget, however, that a handful of popular '80s wrestlers had significant roles on the big screen as well. Roddy Piper chewed gum and kicked ass in John Carpenter's They Live, and André the Giant played Fezzik in The Princess Bride. And then there's Hulk Hogan, who had a cameo in Rocky III before headlining Suburban Commando and Mr. Nanny. Hogan's tragic acting career continued with such straight-to-video duds as The Ultimate Weapon and Thunder in Paradise. Somewhere amidst this malarkey, he found time to star in Santa with Muscles. Hulk Hogan has always been an atrocious thespian, but his terrible performance here is dumbfounding. The analogy is overused, but Hogan truly sounds as if he read every line off a cue card. Meanwhile, Mila Kunis, in her second film role, plays one of the orphans here. In an ironic twist, Don Stark, who would go on to co-star with Kunis on That 70's Show, is also in the film as Hogan's elf. The cast additionally includes such other actors as Clint Howard, Garrett Morris and former wrestler Brutus Beefcake, who plays an oriental (?!) mad scientist.

From the woeful writing to the shoddy production values to the subpar acting, Santa with Muscles is straight-to-video quality, period. Hence, it's mind-boggling that the movie did in fact receive a theatrical release. According to Box Office Mojo, it opened in a scant 98 theatres across America and earned a total of $220,000. It can only be hoped that director John Murlowski has discovered God since helming Santa with Muscles, and will quit the filmmaking business pronto in favour of a life of quiet reflection in a monastery in some foreign country. Otherwise, we may have to kill him. 10-year-old boys - especially those who are established Hulk Hogan fans - might find enough within Santa with Muscles to keep them entertained, but everyone else should avoid this dreck at all costs. Unsurprisingly, since its inception, this film has remained on IMDb's Bottom 100, and is currently ranked lower than Santa Claus Conquers the Martians...

1.5/10

If one mentions the name David Lean, the director's grand, big-budget spectacles will likely come to mind. Among them are such motion pictures as Lawrence of Arabia, Bridge on the River Kwai and Doctor Zhivago. Yet, one of the most enduring of Lean's works is 1945's Brief Encounter; an intimate, romantic film which eschews Lean's trademark grand style in favour of taut melodrama. The result is a masterpiece of style, mood, acting and direction. An expansion of Noel Coward's short play Still Life, Brief Encounter - while rightfully regarded as a classic in this day and age - was a box office failure upon release in 1945. Lean - who was nominated for a Best Director Oscar for his efforts - attributed this commercial failure to the presence of middle-aged actors, the lack of recognisable stars, and the downbeat tone which contrasted the desire of post-war movie-goers to embrace expressions of optimism. Additionally, it could not have helped that the overlying theme of infidelity was a little scandalous for the period.

The story of Brief Encounter is simple to tell. Doctor Alec Harvey (Howard) and housewife Laura Jesson (Johnson) briefly meet at a railway station when Alec removes a speck of grit from Laura's eye. This chance meeting begins a remarkably chaste yet overwhelmingly passionate affair. Both are happily married and have children, yet their relationship rapidly deepens. In the weeks to follow, Alec and Laura meet every Thursday to talk, have lunch and go to the pictures. Though they only see each other once a week, their meetings gradually become more charged with passion, and ultimately they both realise that they have fallen in love.

Brief Encounter begins with a painful scene of Alec and Laura saying their final goodbye to each other at the railway station where they first met. We have not seen any of their relationship yet and hence there is no context, but the sad expressions on the characters' faces effectively convey what's happening. Suddenly, one of Laura's chatterbox friends enters the room, and, unaware of the situation, sits with them to begin rambling. By this point, the movie has not formally introduced either character yet, but Laura and Alec's longing for each other is instantly evident, as is their frustration that their final moment together has been ruined by an intrusion. A few scenes afterwards, Laura begins narrating, and flashbacks illustrate the circumstances under which Laura and Alec met and ultimately fell in love. Certainly, their romance is mundane; primarily consisting of eating lunch together, seeing movies, going for drives in the country, and stealing kisses in dark tunnels while trains rumble overhead. Yet, the mundane, everyday details coalesce into a stark realism that makes the romance more affecting.

The screenplay was written by Noel Coward in conjunction with Anthony Havelock-Allan, Ronald Neame and director Lean, but it bears the stamps of a solo Coward effort. Simply put, the script is extraordinary; pinpointing the essential characteristics of the protagonists, the lives they lead, the social restrictions they live under, and the dreams they have. All of the above were perfectly and efficiently captured through precise, subtle, eloquent dialogue for which the words hint at a far deeper meaning. Additionally, Brief Encounter is very much tied to a specific time and place; a post-war England which is permeated with particular attitudes that are virtually unrecognisable compared to the circumstances involved in 21st Century extra-marital affairs. Even the locations where Alec and Laura's furtive encounters take place seem strange and part of another epoch. Beneath all of the trappings and mannerisms of the period, though, it's the human qualities at the heart of the film which remain timeless. Lean's masterful ability to bring these qualities out of Coward's words and breathe life into them is what ensures the film's greatness.

In the hands of another filmmaker, Brief Encounter would have been a recipe for disaster - not a great deal actually happens, the ending is telegraphed at the very beginning, the sets are mundane, and the leading roles were not portrayed by enduring stars. Lean overcame these obstacles, though, by employing interesting filmmaking techniques. Lean especially exhibits a mastery for catching little details. Nothing in the film feels out of place or exaggerated, and each scene was held for just the right amount of time. There are a few minor lulls, but for the most part the 85-minute runtime flies by at an immaculate pace. Additionally, Robert Krasker's black-and-white cinematography is superb - the combination of stylisation and low-key realism enhances the story with the right shades of mood. Meanwhile, Sergei Rachmaninoff's music was put to good use; it highlights the overpowering emotions of the characters and contributes to the haunting atmosphere.

Lean was additionally aided by the remarkable performances courtesy of Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard, both of whom were blessed with exceptionally expressive faces. The performances may be old-school, but only in so much as they are of the bygone school of stage acting; studious, refined, and capable of tremendous subtlety and nuance of expression. The gradual development of Laura and Alec's affair feels so organic and unforced that it's never precisely clear when it moves from friendly companionship to romance. Johnson's voiceover narration sets an elegaical tone for the film, while Howard is ruggedly handsome and very British.

It's extraordinary that such a simple, unassuming little movie could work such powerful magic over so many movie-goers for so many generations. Superficially, there's nothing about Brief Encounter to be excited about, yet Coward's words, Lean's filmmaking and the performances elevate it above the ordinary.

9.5/10

For David Lynch, 1986's Blue Velvet was the motion picture which cemented his moviemaking credentials in a way that his prior efforts were unable to achieve. Such is the reputation of Lynch in the 21st Century that it's easy to forget that back in 1986 he was only predominantly recognised for his directorial efforts on The Elephant Man. Aside from the low-budget '80s cult favourite Eraserhead, Lynch had not yet found an outlet in which he could exercise his unique talent for darkly comic drama and visual poetry. Blue Velvet changed this, and consequently Lynch was never again a gun for hire on a movie which was not written or conceived by him. When cinema pundits refer to something as "Lynchian", they are typically referencing the stylistic approach and themes which are on full display in Blue Velvet. A thematically rich, disturbing, enthralling tour de force, the film peels back the curtains of picturesque American suburbia to shed light on the seedy underside which is rarely seen. In this way, it's the cinematic cousin of Sam Mendes' American Beauty.

In the sleepy, picturesque town of Lumberton, USA, young Jeffrey Beaumont (MacLachlan) is utterly bored with his life. After Jeffrey's father is hospitalised upon suffering a heart attack, Jeffrey has no choice but to help with the family business. While wandering through the fields near his home one afternoon, Jeffrey unexpectedly discovers a severed human ear. He takes it to the local police station where Detective Williams (Dickerson) opens an investigation. When he's bluntly told by Williams to forget his discovery, Jeffrey's curiosity is piqued and he becomes determined to solve the mystery himself with some assistance from Williams' daughter Sandy (Dern). Before long, a dark, seedy and evil side of town begins to surface, as Jeffrey encounters washed-up lounge singer Dorothy Vallens (Rossellini) and the out-of-control Frank Booth (Hopper), as well as a cavalcade of characters who are far removed from small-town sweetness.

Among the many pleasures of Blue Velvet is watching the multi-layered, intricate mystery unravel and develop. Consequently, it would be criminal to spoil anything else. The narrative is completely unpredictable, and the fusion of plot-based thriller, erotic drama, noir and surrealism makes this a truly enthralling experience. Blue Velvet is undoubtedly at the more conventional end of the Lynch spectrum, as the story moves in an uncomplicated, linear direction. Interestingly, the first act plays out like an edgy, '40s film noir pastiche. During this section, it does not take long to become drawn into the quirky but warm world and become intrigued by the mystery at the centre of the film. From here, however, Lynch steers the film in another direction - slowly and inexorably, the tension levels are ratcheted up as Jeffrey's investigation intensifies and crosses the line into voyeurism. Once Frank Booth enters the picture, though, everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Blue Velvet is also a masterpiece of style and atmosphere. Lynch generated an effective noir feel, but the movie is additionally permeated with a small-town essence, and these two feelings mix together to generate a unique look and feel.

Blue Velvet's opening sequence is a tour de force. Images are shown which are exported from the American Dream, with perfect houses complemented by white picket fences and immaculately manicured yards. Suddenly, the happiness vanishes as a man collapses to the ground. The camera follows him before burrowing into the ground; parting the blades of grass to reveal a colony of swarming bugs. This image conveys that perfection often hides deeply-rooted rot; that dreams can easily turn into nightmares; and that corruption is everywhere. Essentially, this opening scene holds the whole of Blue Velvet in microcosm; the contention that a malevolent rash of violence and moral decay festers underneath the surface of the American Dream. In this sense, Blue Velvet is a very downbeat picture. As a matter of fact, the only hint of optimism comes at the end: the sun emerges, the sky is blue, a jolly robin appears, and everything seems right in the world. Again, a veneer of perfection is presented. But then the robin is seen holding a beetle in its beak. The movie has thus come full circle brilliantly. It emphasises that the American Dream may be alive and well, but the rot and corruption nonetheless remains beneath the surface...ready to emerge at any time.

As Jeffrey Beaumont, Kyle MacLachlan is the perfect clean-cut boy. MacLachlan afforded a sense of innocence to the part which serves him well, and it's due to this quality that we can identity with the character as he begins his downward spiral into Dorothy and Frank's hellish world. In the role of Sandy, a young Laura Dern is the essential embodiment of the prim and proper good girl. Alongside this pair, Isabella Rossellini's performance is outstanding. Rossellini was able to capture the full breadth of Dorothy's complex personality - her vulnerability, degeneracy, desperation and longing, as well as her hatred for Frank and need for him. In all of her scenes, it's clear that Dorothy is mentally unstable and borderline psychotic, and Rossellini conveyed this with aplomb.

Also in the cast is Dennis Hopper. In his lifetime, Hopper played a number of vicious creatures, but never before or since did Hopper essay a role as sinister and purely evil as Frank; one of the most horrific, spine-chilling villains to grace the silver screen. Another masterstroke was to use Roy Orbison's song In Dreams during a number of Hopper's scenes. The tune contributes to the haunting disposition of these sequences, and, consequently, you will never hear the song the same way ever again. In Frank, Hopper and Lynch created such a spellbinding character that they inadvertently introduced the film's sole downfall - whenever Hopper is not around, the film is never as enthralling as it is whenever Hopper is on-screen. In fact, the lack of Hopper causes sluggish patches from time to time.

There is no doubt that Blue Velvet is full of disturbing moments, most of which involve sadomasochistic behaviour, degradation, sex, and elements of an even darker nature. But it is due to the inclusion of these moments that Blue Velvet succeeds in becoming a true masterpiece in all senses of the world, as none of these elements feel gratuitous or exploitative. Instead, the confrontational material is an intrinsic part of the story and mood, as these terrible things are part of everyday life in this quiet, peaceful little town. It drives the point home that no town is perfect, because something dark is always lurking beneath the surface called human nature. Thus, Blue Velvet is not an easy watch by any stretch, nor is it for people who like to watch pleasant, huggable movies. Those who can stomach this content, however, will find Lynch's movie to be the indisputable masterpiece that it is. And the more you re-watch the movie, you more you will appreciate it.

9.5/10

In Charles Dickens's 1843 novella A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge saw no profit in Christmas. How quaint this notion has become. In the 21st Century, Scrooge would have a field day, taking advantage of the innumerable ways to make a quick buck off the festive season and sap sentimental suckers for every penny they have. If Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol a hundred and fifty years later, it might have resembled 1988's Scrooged, a greed-isn't-good modernisation of the classic story. Even though it's a late 1980s production that shows its age in terms of fashion and technology, the morals of this particular retelling are nonetheless relevant in the 21st Century. Adaptations of A Christmas Carol do not get more quirky, darkly humorous or memorable than Scrooged, which is perhaps a textbook example of how to update ancient source material effectively and successfully. It's a great Christmas film, a fantastic high-concept dark comedy, and an enjoyably nostalgic '80s movie.

A witty satire of television in the vein of Network, Scrooged introduces the selfish and cynical Frank Cross (Bill Murray), the youngest network president in the history of television. Frank is a total jerk, a contemporary Ebenezer Scrooge whose soullessness is apparent to all his employees, who are terrified of his capricious temper. Christmas is approaching, and Frank's holiday programming includes action movies like The Night the Reindeer Died, with Lee Majors defending Santa's village at the North Pole. (The best fake movie-within-a-movie concept in history.) But the pièce de résistance is a multi-million dollar adaptation of A Christmas Carol that will air live on Christmas Eve across the country. Frank is due to receive his comeuppance the Dickens way, however. Frank's long-dead former boss, Lew (John Forsythe), appears to him as a walking corpse to warn that three ghosts will visit him on Christmas Eve - the Ghost of Christmas Past (David Johansen), the Ghost of Christmas Present (Carol Kane), and the Ghost of Christmas Future. Suffice it to say, what ensues is a weird and wacky trip through Frank's life, including his bad choices that led him to lose the love of his life, Claire (Karen Allen).

A modernisation of the oft-adapted A Christmas Carol was inevitable, and screenwriters Mitch Glazer and Michael O'Donoghue (both of whom are Saturday Night Live scribes) get it right with the darkly humorous and fresh-feeling Scrooged. In this adaptation, the characters openly acknowledge the existence of the original story with the forthcoming live broadcast, which is a refreshing angle. With the story taking place in the 1980s, the script satirises corporate greed in the context of a major TV network, which looks noticeably different to Scrooge's more humble 19th-century business with its one other employee. It's a new direction for the well-worn source material, retaining the signature plot points of Dickens's dark ghost story and the core message of "Do unto others as you would expect them to do unto you" while forging a unique path. The most noticeable difference compared to the original story is that, since Frank is not an older man here, his love interest plays a role in the present-day parts of the story, allowing the opportunity for reconciliation. The romantic aspects of the story are endearing and heartfelt, providing a tender underbelly that is not overwhelmed by the dark humour. Granted, Scrooged does not reach its full comedic potential due to the PG-13 rating that neuters the language, but the laughs, charm and heart compensate for this.

Scrooged was helmed by action-comedy/blockbuster specialist Richard Donner (Superman: The Movie, Lethal Weapon), of all unlikely people. Even more fascinating is that this film sits on his filmography between Lethal Weapon and Lethal Weapon 2. Yet, the most improbable thing is that Scrooged works as a modern comedic revision of Dickens's story and as a Richard Donner movie. Impressive special effects sequences are scattered throughout the film that feel organic to this adaptation, and Donner maintains a brisk pace from beginning to end. Plus, the special effects stand up to contemporary scrutiny, as Donner executes the material with practical, old-school techniques. Thanks to Donner's deft directorial touch, Scrooged is a tremendously entertaining high-concept '80s comedy similar to Beetlejuice, Ghostbusters, Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, and Big. In fact, the production design and shadowy cinematography look reminiscent of Tim Burton's movies, giving Scrooged the appearance of a supernatural fantasy, and Burton regular Danny Elfman provides the lively, atmospheric original score. The mawkish finale (that even features a cheery musical number) earned scorn and criticism from reviewers, but the sequence feels earned and genuine rather than forced and trite. I also disagree with the assessment that Scrooged is uneven - for my money, Donner ably navigates the tonal changes, and the film comes together effectively. Unfortunately, upon its release in 1988, the movie did not make enough money to break even by Hollywood accounting standards, and the critics were dismissive. In the years to follow, though, Scrooged amassed a loyal cult following, with devoted fans who watch it every Christmas.

The reliable, comedically talented Murray has a blast playing Frank Cross, with his trademark dry sarcasm a perfect fit for this material. Murray exudes a combination of smarm, demented charisma and impudence, making him an ideal 20th-century Scrooge, and he steals the show with his measured but maniacal performance. Everything he says sounds natural, and he fires off witty one-liners to terrific effect. Furthermore, Murray pulls off the various facets of the character with confidence; he's believable as a ruthless executive with a bad temper, a frightened and anxious man unprepared for supernatural confrontations, and a redeemed man who recognises the error of his ways. The rest of the cast is equally strong, including Karen Allen as Frank's former love, Robert Mitchum as an aging executive, Carol Kane and David Johansen as ghosts, and many others. Underrated character actor John Glover (In the Mouth of Madness) even appears as a consultant who often butts heads with Frank. The hilarious Bobcat Goldthwait (now an esteemed filmmaker) is a particular highlight as an employee who gradually loses his sanity after getting laid off and becomes determined to exact revenge on Frank with a shotgun. Scrooged is also littered with cameos, with legendary musicians Miles Davis and Paul Shaffer playing buskers on a street corner. Bill even secured roles for his actor brothers - Brian Doyle-Murray plays Frank's father, John Murray appears as Frank's brother and Joel Murray plays a party guest.

With Scrooged, Richard Donner creates his second enduring Christmas classic, following Lethal Weapon, released merely one year earlier. When it comes to Christmastime entertainment, everybody has their favourite films. There are the traditionalists who prefer It's a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street (the original), while others prefer modern-day classics like A Christmas Story, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and Scrooged. Although not the best Christmas movie, Scrooged remains a perfectly entertaining Yuletide comedy - a fine relic of a bygone age when comedies could enjoy top-notch production values and conceptual richness, traits that are now reserved mainly for summer blockbusters. Additionally, it's a comedy that's unafraid to offend modern sensibilities. Scrooged is highly entertaining and full of effective humour, while the moral message at the centre of the story continues to grow more relevant with each passing year.

8.2/10

The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause is yet another example of the law of diminishing returns. The Santa Clause was charming and fresh, while the subpar The Santa Clause 2 lacked both the magic and charm of the original film. Unfortunately, The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause further sucks the life out of the once-promising franchise. Additionally, this third Santa Clause movie is proof-positive that the folks over at Di$ney do not care about quality as long as they can earn a few quick bucks from producing crap. This is hardly surprising, however, considering Di$ney's glut of shameful straight-to-video sequels (including sequels to such classics as The Lion King and Bambi), but at least those films bypassed theatres. Alas, The Santa Clause 3 is a straight-to-video feature that was given a theatrical release. It may be entertaining for five-year-olds, but the film will prove to be sheer torture for the unlucky parent/s forced to endure it for the sake of their kids.

As usual, this entry in the series commences with Christmas fast approaching. Happily married, Scott (Allen) - a.k.a. Santa Claus - and Carol (Mitchell) are about to become parents, and Carol is feeling homesick. To provide Carol with human company as labour day draws near, Scott decides to invite her parents to the North Pole. As it happens, Scott's in-laws are not aware that their son-in-law is Santa Claus - they've been led to believe that he's a Canadian toy manufacturer. To solve the problem, Scott decorates the North Pole to look like Canada, and flies in the in-laws for a visit. Also along for the ride are Scott's ex-wife Laura (Crewson), her new husband Neil (Reinhold) and their daughter Lucy (Mumy). Meanwhile, Jack Frost (Short) has shown up in Santaland with the goal of convincing Scott to invoke the "escape clause" in his contract and step down. This would leave the way open for Jack to assume the suit and the power that comes with it. Thus, Jack Frost begins attempting to turn Scott's life into a frenetic nightmare.

While the previous films owed a debt to A Christmas Carol, The Santa Clause 3 borrows from It's a Wonderful Life, with Scott facing the alternate reality of what would have happened if he never became Santa. There is potential in this idea, but a lot of potential remains untapped. In all likelihood, The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause will turn more stomachs than any Saw or Hostel movie due to its shoddy production values, vapid attempts at feel-good sentiment, and a wrongheaded plotline that criticises commercialism while simultaneously embracing it. All of the characters are vacant-eyed and one-dimensional, and they go through the paces with barely a modicum of genuine human feelings. In the case of Jack Frost, he's more disturbingly creepy than funny. The plot takes a full hour to find itself, as it spends way too long running in circles without doing anything interesting or entertaining. Once the story gets to where it's headed, the plot dilemma is literally resolved within minutes.

Television veteran Michael Lembeck was at the helm of The Santa Clause 3. Four years prior, Lembeck made his feature-film debut with The Santa Clause 2. Thus, The Santa Clause 3 suffers from the same flaws as its immediate predecessor; the film looks as if it was made cheaply, with actors, set design and special effects which would be embarrassing in a made-for-TV fare. There is no energy or joy in the filmmaking, nor is there any wit in Ed Decter and John J. Strauss' script. Instead, every flat-looking, laughless frame of the film is permeated with the strong sense that everyone was begrudgingly fulfilling their duties for the money. Rather than any genuine laughs, The Santa Clause 3 offers bathroom gags (the reindeer like to fart a lot). Meanwhile, the relentlessly jaunty score underlines every potential joke and generates schmaltzy moments worthy of cringes. This dreck was made for entertainment purposes, but it failed to keep this reviewer interested. Plus, there's an enormous head-scratching plot hole: why would Santa invite his in-laws to visit THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS?! One would think a slightly less chaotic day would be more appropriate. Any other day of the year, perhaps?

Star Tim Allen - who probably owes Disney another 10 or 20 movies until his soul is freed from bondage and he can die in peace - is still surprisingly likable as Scott Calvin. Still, Allen phoned in his performance here and was clearly in it for the pay-cheque. In the years preceding The Santa Clause 3, Allen featured in such movies as Joe Somebody, The Shaggy Dog, Zoom and Christmas with the Kranks. These titles speak for themselves. Does Allen have any dignity at all? Most of the other actors look disinterested, with returning cast members Elizabeth Mitchell, Eric Lloyd, Wendy Crewson and Judge Reinhold all coming across as painfully wooden. And then there's Spencer Breslin, who painfully mugs in front of the camera while regurgitating dialogue with a lisp which renders his words unintelligible. Martin Short afforded a degree of flair to his generic villain role, but he's too mean-spirited for a G-rated family movie. Yet again, the adorable Liliana Mumy is the brightest spot of the cast.

What happened to the charm of the original The Santa Clause, and the genuine sweetness? Here, these elements feel forced and artificial. The film is formulaic and predictable (you know exactly when Carol will go into labour, for example), and the plot troubles are resolved all too easily. From the fake-looking sets to the chintzy digital effects to the tedious plot to the contrived emotion, The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause is a sorry excuse for a children's picture which ranks alongside Deck the Halls and Christmas with the Kranks as one of the most misguided and disingenuous Christmas pictures of the noughties. The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause is an obvious cash grab film which banked solely on the franchise name to woo audiences into buying into it.

0.9/10

To this day, 1994's The Santa Clause remains a pleasant, sweet family Christmas film and a holiday favourite which is held by some in the same league as A Christmas Story and Miracle on 34th Street. It's certainly a flawed flick, but it beautifully encapsulates the spirit and wonder of Christmas; shining a humorous light on the belief in Santa Claus. It therefore almost goes without saying that the follow-up was burdened with substantial expectations, but alas, 2002's The Santa Clause 2 falls tragically short of them. Helmed by television vet Michael Lembeck, The Santa Clause 2 is inoffensive and harmless enough for family consumption, but it's utterly dull, and - like most sequels - it comes across as a pointless cash-in on its predecessor's name. The 100 minutes one would have to use (waste?) to view this soulless dreck would be better spent doing Christmas shopping.

The Santa Clause 2 picks up eight years after the events of the first film, and Scott Calvin (Allen) is now completely immersed in the role of Santa Claus. However, with less than a month until Christmas, head elf Bernard (Krumholtz) and experimental elf Curtis (Breslin) discover that Scott is in violation of his Santa contract. As it turns out, Scott must find a wife before Christmas Eve or else he will be "de-Santafied", meaning no more Santa, no more North Pole, and no more Christmas. Leaving a facsimile of himself in charge at the North Pole, Scott heads out to begin searching for his Mrs. Claus. As sparks fly between Scott and repressed school principal Carol Newman (Mitchell), Scott is also forced to deal with his now-teenaged son Charlie (Lloyd; reprising his role from the original) whose name is on the "naughty" list due to troubles at school.

Six writers were credited for the screenplay for The Santa Clause 2, which makes the subpar result all the more baffling. For starters, an enormous plot hole emerges almost immediately: if Scott needs a wife to continue reigning as Santa, why has it taken eight years for the elves to inform him? And why does it take eight years for the clause to take effect? Secondly, it would seem the writers figured that kids might not be too interested in a Santa romance, so they conceived of a couple of terrible additional subplots. The first involves a Santa stand-in who adopts Hitler-style dictatorial tendencies. It's not funny or interesting, and doesn’t work because it just gives the narrative an unneeded villain. Meanwhile, the film also deals with a formulaic, painfully trite subplot regarding Charlie's misbehaviour at school - it leads nowhere, and merely exists to give Scott a convenient way to meet his future wife. Even the ending doesn't work; it's silly and overly sentimental. As a result of the unnecessary subplots, the movie feels far too padded out at an interminable 100 minutes. There's simply not enough energy or charm to sustain interest throughout.

Everything within The Santa Clause 2 feels calculated, generic and schmaltzy, to the point that - even though it was produced on a generous $65 million budget - the North Pole feels like a studio soundstage rather than a magical location. Director Michael Lembeck made his feature-film debut here. The lacklustre production values could be attributed to Lembeck who was perhaps unable to make every cent count, or perhaps Disney used most of the budget to pay Tim Allen. The special effects are bad enough to be embarrassing, with painfully obvious digital effects and phoney green-screen work. Making matters worse is the overabundance of cheesy Disney-esque moments, and the fact that the tone is very childish and slapstick (this is a dumbed-down, G-rated sequel to a PG-rated film). While The Santa Clause 2 is inoffensive entertainment, it simply lacks the charm and magic which characterised its predecessor. Granted, there are a few scenes which work and keep things afloat momentarily, but these moments of brilliance are squandered by the tedious, unfunny bullshit surrounding it.

In the role of Scott Calvin/Santa Claus, Tim Allen is at least serviceable. His on-screen charisma has diminished since the first film, but he's by no means grating or unwatchable. Alongside him, Elizabeth Mitchell ably carried out the simplistic role of Carol Newman. Allen and Mitchell do have chemistry, and their scenes together constitute the best moments that the film has to offer. Also in the cast is Eric Lloyd, who - as the result of eight years of natural aging - looks nothing like he did in the original film. Unfortunately, his acting skills did not improve over the years. Judge Reinhold and Wendy Crewson also returned here, but failed to make much of an impact. Newcomer Spencer Breslin, meanwhile, is absolutely intolerable and overreaching. The only bright spot is Liliana Mumy, who's adorable and effective as young Lucy. Not to mention, David Krumholtz is amiable as Bernard. Interestingly, Peter Boyle has a small cameo here as Father Time, and Boyle starred in the original film as a completely different character.

The best children's movies are those which appeal to adults as much as children. 1994's The Santa Clause was a good example of this, and it was therefore solid Christmastime family entertainment. The Santa Clause 2, on the other hand, may appeal to kids but will prove to be a gruelling slog for anyone older than 12 or 13. To give you an idea of how clever the material is, the one and only laugh is in the first 30 seconds - a man describes noise coming from the North Pole as sounding like "tiny hammers". It is safe to say that The Santa Clause 2 did not need to be made, and the laughless, joyless, agonising final product only solidifies this notion.

3.2/10

Johnny Knoxville and his Jackass crew have visibly grown older since Jackass Number Two back in 2006, but this did not dissuade them from making their return to the big screen with yet another round of stupid skits and stunts (this time in 3-D) delivered in the same spirit of cheerful pointlessness as the film's predecessors. In all likelihood, the painful, repulsive slapstick within 2010's Jackass 3D will not appeal to those who prefer tasteful, well-written fictional comedies with a narrative, yet this flick is confidently superior to a lot of other modern comedies. Why can't non-Jackass movies exhibit this amount of energy and boundary-pushing ingenuity? Granted, Jackass 3D is lowbrow and loaded with bad taste. Sure, the film provides more shots of vomit, poo, bare bottoms and penises than viewers should ever have to stomach. And yes, certain skits do drag a tad and affect the pace. Nevertheless, the boys have delivered a hell of a show yet again, and Jackass 3D is the most consistently hilarious instalment in the series.

Fans of the MTV television show and/or previous Jackass movies should know the drill by now. Nothing but a string of vignettes, this third instalment follows the Jackass boys (Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Steve-O, Jason "Wee Man" Acuña, Preston Lacy, Chris Pontius, "Danger" Ehren McGhehey and Dave England) as they play un-PC jokes on unsuspecting civilians and carry out dangerous and/or painful stunts. This entry also boasts an array of cameo appearances - The Dudesons, Will the Farter, Spike Jonze, and even Seann William Scott are all featured fleetingly. There's no thematic relevance here, nor is there a forced conventional narrative to give the skits a purpose, and this is for the best.

It would be unwise to spoil any of the content, as being shocked by the unpredictable insanity is key to enjoying the Jackass films (it's therefore fortunate that the trailer spoiled barely 5% of the laughs). Be warned, though, that some of the material here is truly repulsive. At times, the film is so gross that even the guys on-screen begin puking (one cameraman is particularly susceptible to throwing up, which is the equivalent of a doctor fainting at the sight of blood). What's impressive about this third outing is that after several episodes of the series and a few feature films, the team were still able to concoct so many creative ideas. Yet, while the boys put on a great show, they are starting to show their age, and consequently seem less enthusiastic about punishing themselves on-camera. This stuff has been their career for 10 years, after all.

Earlier in 2010, filmmaker James Cameron criticised Piranha 3D for cheapening the 3-D format, and hence I shudder to ponder what Cameron would say about Jackass 3D (perhaps he'd find it hilarious, just like the rest of us). While embracing 3-D for this Jackass instalment seems like a cheap gimmick to generate extra bucks at the box office, the extra dimension is in fact an inspired choice. It serves to create a sense of bemused dread; allowing you to sit back and wonder (or, in most cases, fear) what type of foul three-dimensional insanity will happen next. A dildo is even sent rocketing towards the camera at one stage. Heck, Mike Judge even created an animated introduction to the film featuring Beavis & Butthead which takes the piss out of the 3-D gimmick. Still, one gets the sense that the crew could have pushed things even farther, and, while Jackass 3D is still satisfying, the full potential of a Jackass film in 3-D was not quite realised.

Interestingly, most likely because of the 3-D format, Jackass 3D is the most polished movie in the series, and thus it's easier to watch compared to the ugly, grainy cinematography of its predecessors. Additionally, director Jeff Tremaine crafted a few blatantly "cinematic" moments in this instalment, most notably the sequences which open and close the film.

Jackass 3D is a truly critic-proof movie if ever there was one. Whether or not you will enjoy it depends on if you're a fan. You either love these movies, or you hate them - there's no in-between. Admittedly, Jackass 3D lacks a true showstopper, and some sequences work better than others (a skit where Pontius wreaks havoc in a gorilla suit outstays its welcome, and Knoxville getting bitten by a dog on the ass is pretty tame). Overall, though, the film is a hoot and a half - I laughed my ass off. It's hilarious enough in its best scenes to make up for a few slow moments. Others are welcome to disagree, though.

8.1/10

The name Theodor Geisel may not mean much to you, but the name "Dr. Seuss" certainly should. Born Theodor Seuss Geisel, the acclaimed author and illustrator was responsible for more than 60 best-selling books which introduced his young readers to new worlds and creatures. Seuss' books were always quirky, and his rhyming narratives always managed to teach an important lesson while remaining eminently enjoyable and amusing. Posthumously, Seuss continues to sell millions of books worldwide. Among the author's most beloved works is How the Grinch Stole Christmas!; a not-so-subtle evisceration of the consumerism of Christmas. In 1966, the story was granted immortality when the legendary Chuck Jones helmed this animated television adaptation which captured hearts and imaginations across the globe. 1966's How the Grinch Stole Christmas! is not just a charming yuletide classic and a perennial Christmas staple, but also a smartly-written and sharply-narrated masterpiece.

The residents of Whoville - a small town brimming with cheer, goodwill and laughter - adore the Christmas season and everything it represents. However, the Grinch detests Christmas. A grouchy hermit living in a mountaintop cave overlooking the town, the Grinch hates the noise, the presents, the celebrations, the rituals and everything associated with Christmas. Nobody knows why, though - "it could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. Or it could be that his head wasn't screwed on just right. But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small." In a fit of maniacal glee, the Grinch decides to don a homemade Santa Claus outfit and head into Whoville on the night of Christmas Eve to steal every stocking, present, tree and anything else relating to the holiday. Yet, it did not occur to the Grinch that the town's joy is about the season rather than their various rituals. As the Grinch undergoes an epiphany, the film becomes an unexpectedly pointed tour de force that's as meaningful today as it was back in 1966.

Adapting a book is a tricky undertaking. Too often, the story of a book is gutted when translated to the screen; losing the traits that made it a classic in the first place. Fortunately, this television special had animator Chuck Jones at the helm. For those unaware, Jones was the creative force behind many classic Looney Tunes cartoons. Jones' claim to fame has always been humour and characterisation, both of which he brought to How the Grinch Stole Christmas! in spades. Also, this television special remains a model of economy. Within the movie's sleek 25-minute runtime, Jones and co-director Ben Washam managed to generate humour and develop a deep moral of the meaning of Christmas that in no way feels underdone. The book version could be read in about 15 minutes, but the makers of this movie felt that by extending the middle section, they would be able to play on the comedic qualities of these scenes. The pace does slow momentarily, but the positive traits compensate for this.

It's another bonus that the animation is superb. The moving parts are eye-catching and lively, and the imagery is marvellous. The animation was hand-drawn, too. For each second of film, 12 pieces of artwork needed to be devised, meaning that a whopping 17,000 hand-drawn animation cells were created for How the Grinch Stole Christmas!. Not only does the movie boast rich animation, but it also benefits from Seuss' terrific writing. The story touches on the dangers of consumerism, and explores the nature of human compassion and goodwill. It also helps that the film is so genuinely entertaining and charming - Jones and co-director Washam used everything at their disposal to reproduce the heart and soul of Seuss' tale. Additionally, Boris Karloff nailed his performance here as both the narrator and the Grinch. Karloff really understood Seuss' style, and he was able to make the oddball words and rhymes sound perfectly natural. To back up Karloff, there's Thurl Ravenscroft (voice of Tony the Tiger) who sung the "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" song, and veteran voice actress June Foray (The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle) who voiced Cindy Lou Who.

Will contemporary viewers appreciate everything that How the Grinch Stole Christmas! has to offer? In this reviewer's opinion, they certainly should. In terms of animation, the film shows its age (especially compared to computer animation). However, in terms of story, pacing, comedy, message and emotional undercurrent, the movie is still as powerful today as it was in 1966. How the Grinch Stole Christmas! is an exceedingly rare example of a movie aimed at kids that's equally satisfying for adults. It's also one of several pictures which reinforce the tired cliché of "they just don't make 'em like this anymore". Instead, they just remake 'em with Jim Carrey and a consumerist mindset.

9.1/10

When was the last time you remember seeing a genuinely good shark movie? Steven Spielberg's Jaws from 1975 is likely the most popular choice, and it's perhaps the only good shark film in existence. In subsequent years, a few subpar Jaws sequels entered cinemas along with films like Deep Blue Sea, and then, in the noughties, we began seeing a glut of awful, low-budget, straight-to-DVD shark features (Shark Attack 3: Megalodon, anybody?). Thank goodness, then, for 2010's The Reef; an incredibly intense Australian thriller from writer-director Andrew Traucki, who was last seen at the helm of the similarly-themed Black Water back in 2007 (a crocodile flick). Traucki has visibly improved his cinematic technique since his 2007 feature debut, most notably in terms of staging visceral attacks and in his ability to build tension. Consequently, The Reef is a competently-crafted thriller machine that's worthy of Spielberg's Jaws. Those who complained that 2004's Open Water - a similar vérité-style thriller - was too boring or low on shark action should find The Reef to be a far more satisfying experience.

The story kicks off at an airport in north Queensland, where boat peddler Luke (Damian Walshe-Howling) meets his old friend Matt (Gyton Grantley) along with Matt's girlfriend Suzie (Adrienne Pickering) and Matt's sister Kate (Zoe Naylor). Luke and sailing partner Warren (Kieran Darcy-Smith) are scheduled to deliver a yacht, and have invited the three guests along for the trip. Setting off into the crystalline waters of the Great Barrier Reef, the idyllic jaunt is going famously for the group until the boat capsizes when it suffers severe keel damage. Drifting further out to sea thanks to a powerful current, the quintet find themselves faced with an unattractive decision: to wait adrift atop their sinking vessel with little food, water or chance of being rescued, or swim in shark-infested waters for the closest land formation. Soon, their greatest fear is realised: a large great white shark begins stalking the group.

Within the slimmest and most straightforward of narratives, writer-director Traucki manages to skilfully transform a standard plight into an effective, terrifyingly unpredictable shark thriller. Initially, Traucki focuses on exposition, character development and dramatic growth to allow for viewers to become acquainted with the cast before they're plunged into mortal terror. To the credit of the writer-director, Traucki has a palpable talent for tight pacing and tension-building. Due to this, there are no dead spots - not even during the character building. The primary source of tension is the film's unpredictability. From the get-go, you cannot tell when the shark will initially strike, leading to periods of unbearable tension. The shark can strike anytime and from any angle, as the protagonists are frequently vulnerable. Added to this, The Reef at no point succumbs to dumb clichés. The characters are not archetypes - instead, they're just regular Aussies. More importantly, Traucki doesn't force a ridiculous climax pitting the characters against the antagonistic white pointer - instead, the shark strikes, devours its prey, and disappears into the deep blue sea.

Belying its $3.5 million budget with lavish underwater photography and seamless special effects, The Reef is a more polished effort than Traucki's Black Water, yet it's imbued with a gritty realism rarely seen in creature features. Like Black Water, the great white shark in The Reef is a genuine white pointer. The filmmakers photographed real great white sharks rather than utilising digital effects, and as a result the shark never looks phoney at any point. However, this does not mean the shark footage was haphazardly edited into the film, as we actually see the actors with the fish (one assumes there was a team of stuntmen in the water with the shark, or the shark footage was expertly grafted onto footage of the actors). The attacks, meanwhile, are haunting and visceral; they are the best shark attacks ever seen in a motion picture to date. The Reef additionally benefits from the score by Rafeal May, which further amplifies the tension at critical moments and triggers a few bonus scares. The Reef is the most effective edge-of-your seat thriller of recent years. When you're not on the edge of your seat, you'll be chewing your fingernails to the bone.

Generally, thrillers and horror movies are far more terrifying if they are credible and easy to relate to. In the case of The Reef, all of the narrative machinations are believable, despite what some may believe. The notion of a shark stalking a party of humans may seem far-fetched but is not unheard of - the movie is, in fact, based on true events whereby a boat sunk in the Great Barrier Reef and the people aboard tried to swim to shore while a tiger shark stalked them. Also, great white sharks do indeed frequent the waters of the Great Barrier Reef, contrary to what some people may think. Meanwhile, the notion of a boat capsizing and/or sinking in the middle of the ocean is equally credible, and therefore incredibly terrifying. It's easy to put yourself in the shoes of the characters and ask yourself what you would do in such an unnerving situation.

Yet another of The Reef's strengths is the actors, all of whom placed forth compelling portrayals of their respective roles and created distinctive characters. Headlining the movie is Walshe-Howling, who was previously seen in 2006's Macbeth and the acclaimed television series Underbelly. As Luke, Walshe-Howling is an excellent hero who ticks all the boxes: he's charismatic, he's commanding, and he's a great leader. Alongside him is Grantley, who also featured in Underbelly and Balibo. Like his co-stars, Grantley is infinitely likeable, and it's possible to care about his fate once the shark enters the picture. As the females of the picture, Pickering and Naylor are both effortlessly charming, while Darcy-Smith (The Square) holds his own in the more minor supporting role of Warren.

Admittedly, The Reef is not perfect - a few clumsy lines mire an otherwise top-notch script (such as a corny "I love you" exchange), and there's a head-scratching plot hole (the yacht was towing a dinghy, yet it disappears once the boat is capsized). Nevertheless, this is the shark thriller that cinema fans have been anticipating for years. It's low-budget, sure, but the special effects are head over heels superior to other, more generously-budgeted shark features (see Deep Blue Sea or the Jaws sequels). Writer-director Traucki's masterful manipulation of tension levels also ensures that viewers may again be hesitant to partake in a prolonged ocean swim.

8.6/10