Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"What's important at this time is to re-clarify the difference between hero and villain."

The word "okay" is the most apt adjective for 2011's J. Edgar, Clint Eastwood's unambitious but handsomely-mounted biopic of one of the most interesting men of the 20th Century. The direction is okay and the acting is merely okay... Apart from lavish sets and (mostly) stunning makeup, nothing stands out as memorable or above-average in this blatant piece of Oscar bait. It's a shame, too, as the production was blessed with a lot of talent: Clint Eastwood at the helm, Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead, Brian Grazer & Ron Howard producing, and even Dustin Lance Black (Milk) behind the script. The mention of such names only serves to heighten the disappointment that the flick represents. This is Eastwood's laziest effort in years. Perhaps the former acting heavyweight is just getting too old to be patient with his craft.

From an early age, John Edgar Hoover (DiCaprio) showed determination to defend America from the Communist and criminal scum posing a threat to his beloved nation. Becoming a law enforcer in his 20s, Hoover worked his way through the ranks to become the Director of the FBI, where he introduced revolutionary methods such as forensics and fingerprinting. Hoover was also notorious for embellishing stories to the public, claiming to have personally taken down outlaws like John Dillinger and Alvin Karpis. Meanwhile, Hoover's personal life was a mess. Behind closed doors he was a closet homosexual: he maintained a long-term relationship with his second-in-command Clyde Tolson (Hammer), but was afraid that his sexual orientation may harm his image and legacy.

The retelling of Hoover's life is framed around the man dictating his life story and professional triumphs to various assistants to form the basis for an upcoming book. It's a clever storytelling method in theory, as it allows the script to explore Hoover's insatiable quest to eternally preserve himself as a great man in the eyes of the public. The device almost works...almost. While it permits a window into Hoover's psyche, it denies the chance to genuinely get into the more controversial and unsavoury aspects of his character. And when the chance finally arises for such aspects to be exposed, Black squanders the opportunity. See, at one point Clyde confronts Hoover about events he either sensationalised or outright made up in his memoirs. But this idea is dropped after a short single scene, denying Clyde the chance to provide further insights.

The key problems with J. Edgar stem from both Dustin Lance Black's script and Clint Eastwood's handling of it. Rather than examining Hoover's extensive commitment to the FBI, the flick simply runs through several key events without any sort of consistent through line. Black's flawed script lacks ambition, too. The writer was keen to open up several cans of worms - including Hoover's homosexuality and rumoured cross-dressing - but he can only watch them wriggle around. A lot of time is dedicated to showing Hoover and Tolson spending time together, yet the relationship is too tasteful and gutless. It's a shallow depiction of their romantic involvement, harmlessly observing them but never going under the surface to explore their love. Instead, it boils down to a lot of clandestine glances and dialogue of scattershot quality. Granted, Black's point was most likely that Hoover was just tragically stubborn and was unable to embrace his full self since he was living in an era of narrow-mindedness, but something more daring would have made for more enthralling cinema. This is too dry. History books also reveal countless fascinating things about Hoover (especially in his later life), barely any of which were incorporated into the finished movie. Things are played too safe, and the film lacks the guts to be ambitious. What a wasted opportunity.

Added to this, the script's nonlinear approach is ineffective; it haphazardly leaps around the timeline for no particular reason when a more straightforward retelling would have worked far better. Clint's direction exacerbates this issue; a handful of scene transitions are poor, and there's a distinct lack of focus and discipline. The editing, too, feels lazy. Admittedly, however, J. Edgar gets better as it moves along, with the amateurish opening segment giving way to a number of enthralling scenes throughout the midsection. Most successful are the scenes dealing with the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, which are so engaging that the subplot should have been given its own movie. The makeup deserves a mention, too. DiCaprio and Watts look especially convincing as the older versions of their characters, though the makeup job on Armie Hammer looks positively ghastly.

For all of the cynical critics dismissively saying that Leonardo DiCaprio is in pure Oscar baiting mode here, the actor is surprisingly mixed. His accent at no point feels convincingly lived-in; it feels like Clint used his trademark one-take method all the time, never permitting Leo the chance to feel comfortable in Hoover's skin. His voice doesn't entirely convince; it seems to be a random mix of his real voice and a forced accent, which is bewildering since he's one of the finest actors of this generation. Additionally, Leo's voice remains the same as Hoover ages, which betrays the convincing makeup effects. Billy Crudup was far more authentic and memorable as J. Edgar Hoover in 2009's Public Enemies (a superior flick). The rest of the acting, though, is more successful. Armie Hammer excellently embodies the role of Clyde Tolson, and he's completely believable as he runs through various challenging emotions. Meanwhile, despite a thankless role, Naomi Watts impresses as Hoover's loyal secretary, and Judi Dench is her usual exceptional self as Hoover's mother. Also worth mentioning is Josh Lucas, who's very good as Charles Lindbergh.

Viewers seeking profound insight into the life and personality of J. Edgar Hoover will have to look elsewhere - Eastwood's movie is a strictly superficial affair which only teases, resulting in an incomplete filmic sketch of this fascinating man. Interesting to note, J. Edgar was originally slated for a mid-late 2012 release, but was pulled forward a year...after filming had wrapped. Another year of post-production could have facilitated reshoots, stronger editing, and generally more care. What we're left with feels like an early rough cut that only occasionally shows promise of what it could have been. J. Edgar is not bad per se - it's just an underwhelming, limp career overview of someone who deserves a far more substantial biopic. Just think of what someone like Oliver Stone could've made of this project...

5.7/10

"I wonder all the time why no-one's never just stood up and become a real superhero."

By now, a motion picture concerning an average citizen suiting up to fight real-world crime is not an original premise anymore. Most recently we've seen Defendor and Kick-Ass assume such routines, and the 1980s film Hero at Large used a similar idea. 2011's Super is writer-director James Gunn's take on the concept. The product is fundamentally a mix of Kick-Ass and Napoleon Dynamite, with a hint of Falling Down and Death Wish also thrown in for good measure. Super definitely has its own identity, though - it's a darkly funny and at times just plain dark spin on the civilian superhero subgenre. With Gunn having graduated from the Troma school of filmmaking, Super is off-kilter and exceedingly violent. Conventional superhero movies often ignore extreme violence, but Gunn lets the blood and guts fly (his previous movie was 2006's Slither).

Meek, socially awkward cook Frank (Wilson) has lived a lifetime of misery, and is devoted to his wife Sarah (Tyler) who's recovering from several years of drug and alcohol abuse. After shady drug kingpin Jacques (Bacon) steals Sarah away from Frank, the schlub becomes insurmountably depressed, and he starts looking to remove the criminal element from the streets. Following a vivid hallucination, Frank operates under the impression that God wants him to be a superhero. Frank creates his own makeshift costume complete with a pipe wrench, and hits the streets as the Crimson Bolt to beat criminals senseless in his quest for retribution. Frank soon draws the interest of overzealous young comic book geek Libby (Page), who figures out Frank's superhero identity and begs to become his kid sidekick Boltie.

Super's first half gels remarkably well, as an agreeable tone of schlocky campiness pervades the scenes of ultra-violence (the montage of Frank using a pipe wrench to punish people is a cesspool of comedic awesomeness due to Frank's stupid and overzealous sensibilities). Things become even more fun when Boltie enters the picture, and from there the pic seems primed to become an instant classic. However, Gunn fails to entirely capitalises on this potential. As the climax kicks in, there's a jarring change in tone and identity - things grow so bleak and uncomfortable that fun preceding it becomes tarnished. The tonal problem begins with an unforgivable character death that's worsened by the implication that Sarah's life is more valuable than the deceased. From there, things only go further downhill - the concluding 10 minutes are clumsy and disagreeable, and the ending's optimism feels unearned. Furthermore, one assumes that Frank's journey is one of self-discovery, but the payoff is half-hearted and grim, and the deceased main character is left entirely forgotten. Being an indie picture, Gunn probably wanted his story to be real-world and grounded, yet such serious aspirations do not mesh well with this darkly comic tone. It's the equivalent of putting a scene from Schindler's List at the end of a Jim Carrey comedy - the jarring dissonance is overwhelming.

Best known for his work on The Office, Rainn Wilson is terrific in the role of Frank - he gives the character a well-judged degree of vulnerability to make him sympathetic and likable. However, just like in Kick-Ass, the costumed kid sidekick is the one who steals the movie. As Libby/Boltie, Page is batshit crazy, breathing fearless life into this hot young geek with a healthy sexual appetite and an unexpected penchant for violence. Page's brilliance lies in the way she sells different aspects of Libby's personality. At first she seems like a geeky comic shop clerk, but she unleashes her inner psycho when she becomes Frank's sidekick, cackling at criminals before telling them things like "It's called internet bleeding fucker, and then you die!". Oh, and she practically rapes Frank at one stage. Another standout is the underused Nathan Fillion as a bible-thumping superhero known as The Holy Avenger. Always a talented comic performer, Fillion steals every frame in which he features. In supporting roles, Liv Tyler and Kevin Bacon are solid if not entirely memorable, and Michael Rooker is enjoyable as one of Jacques' henchmen.

Ultimately, Super is a terrific idea yielding an often fun but uneven ride, with misjudged execution and Gunn's rough-around-the-edges sensibilities marring what could have been an instant classic. Its tone is all over the shop, alternating between darkly comic and downright unsettling, rendering Super nothing more than watchable but unremarkable escapism. If James Gunn revised his script and few more times, the film may have indeed been "super". As it is, it's about 70 minutes of brilliance and 20 minutes of sloppiness.

6.6/10

"Now I lay me down to rest, but there's a goblin on my chest. He's gray and ugly and very gory and he wants to tell me a deadtime story."

At first glance, Deadtime Stories has a lot going for it. For starters, it boasts an intriguing premise: it's an old-fashioned anthology of horror stories. Furthermore, George A. Romero - the godfather of zombie movies - produced the flick and "hosts" it. If nothing else, it'd be fair for one to assume that it should make for an enjoyable night of horror consumption. Alas, the final product is a spit in the face of horror fans, and it's downright insulting to see Romero's name attached to such Z-grade tosh. The third and final story admittedly has some merit, but the rest of Deadtime Stories is awful, featuring unconvincing acting and cheap production values. Amateur backyard filmmakers would be embarrassed to have their names attached to this drivel.

The first segment - entitled Valley of the Shadow - concerns a young woman who leads an expedition into the jungles of South America in search of her missing husband and hidden treasure. Things go bad, though, when they're attacked by the violent natives.
Directed by Jeff Monaghan, this initial vignette sets the quality bar extremely low. The most glaring issue is the blasé disposition of Monaghan's direction; the actors stroll around without any discipline or purpose, and literally seem to be wondering why scenes are dragging on for so long. Moreover, the minuscule budget is frequently obvious in the slapdash production values and cheap-looking photography. Low-budget horror filmmakers should rely on atmosphere and a fear of the unknown to compensate for financial shortness, but such qualities elude Monaghan, who couldn't direct water to a glass. His script is no better, as nothing in the movie makes any sense at all. The natives seem to be omnipresent and looking to attack the protagonists, yet they never seem to make an effort. And why would the characters stop to make camp in a jungle while being hunted by nearby savages? Why did the characters leave their boat while under attack, rather than just leaving on said boat or taking cover and strategising? Is one of the natives meant to be the woman's husband? ...Fuck off, movie, just fuck off! Zero stars.

In the next segment, a lonely fisherman named Jack (Monaghan) finds a valuable jade box buried on the beach. Antiques dealer Swan (Mancuso) warns Jack of the danger of what he's got himself into, and advises him to bury the box where he found it. Suffice it to say, Jack doesn't listen.
This second story, entitled Wet, is mildly better than its predecessor, but only thanks to the presence of Nick Mancuso as Swan. Everything else is dreadful; Monaghan (who directed Valley of the Shadow and wrote all three segments) is an awful actor, and director Michael Fischa fails to build any sense of trepidation or tension. Monaghan's script is equally lacklustre; the conversations between Jack and Swan are often boring. The slapdash special effects, photography and direction would be considered awful in a Year 8 Media Studies project...but in a major motion picture produced by George A. Romero, such shortcomings are goddamn unforgivable. One star.

Deadtime Stories' third and final segment is entitled House Call. Set on a stormy night, a panicked mother (Nagel) asks a local doctor (O'Malley) to come see her son (Norman), who has been acting strangely and is now tied to his bed...
Hands down, House Call is the best of the three short films on offer here. Director Tom Savini has done an above-average job with his small budget, confidently diving into the corny material (the script was written by Monaghan again) to produce something stylish, intense and at times riveting. The atmospheric opening moments grab your attention, and the rest of the story delivers in the way that its predecessors failed to do. Savini also afforded his segment an old-timey feel, with retro photography and sparse, effective use of make-up and special effects. Despite a few draggy patches of talking, House Call is an effective mix of tension and outright thrills. It's a true shame that this quality was not carried over to the rest of the stories. Still, some moments during the segment do feel a tad hammy and the piece lacks polish as a whole, so it falls short of greatness. Four stars.

Bookmarking each segment is George A. Romero playing host. This malarkey is just as terrible as the first two stories. Romero looks bored, stiff and uncomfortable. His material is only worsened by the irritating staging - he bounces between a series of static-filled televisions stacked on top of each other for absolutely no reason and to absolutely no worthwhile effect.

It would seem that those behind Deadtime Stories did not have the budget for many impressive set-pieces, so the stories are filled with drab dialogue bogged down by low production values, awful acting and incompetent direction. The movie is not even so bad it's good; it's just lifeless and dull. Well, this applies for the first two stories at least, as the third is a decent horror story tarnished by the crap it has been attached to. If Valley of the Shadow and Wet were even half as stylish and effective as House Call, then Deadtime Stories would have been a worthwhile horror film. Alas, it is not. Shame on the producers for trying to trick gullible horror consumers into assuming that this is a George A. Romero-calibre production.

3.8/10

"There's a mole, right at the top of the Circus. And he's been there for years."

A rare type of modern spy thriller, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is more interested in looks, pauses and intricate story machinations than guns and explosions. Mainstream audiences need not apply; this is the type of picture best consumed by more mature filmgoers who possess the sort of patience and attention that viewers can rarely be relied upon to bring to a cinema these days. However, despite gorgeous visuals, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy proceeds through its knotted scheme of espionage and secrets with a sense of utmost perplexity, ensuring you'll never be certain about what's happening even if you're able to grapple with the events and stakes of isolated set-pieces. It's intelligent and complex yet at times dramatically dry and detached.

When British Intelligence commander Control (Hurt) learns that a Hungarian general is willing to sell classified information, agent Jim Prideaux (Strong) is dispatched to Budapest to investigate. Prideaux is promptly shot, though, and, in the aftermath, Control is forced into retirement. In ensuing months, word reaches civil servant Oliver Lacon (McBurney) that there's a long-term mole in the "Circus" (i.e. the British Intelligence agency). To investigate, he pulls George Smiley (Oldman) out of forced retirement. As Smiley monitors the actions of the Circus' top men, he finds a reliable man in Peter Guillam (Cumberbatch), and becomes intertwined with fringe player Ricki Tarr (Hardy) who has valuable information about the mole that he'll trade for protection.

John le Carré's labyrinthine source novel of the same name has been adapted before. In 1979, an acclaimed BBC miniseries based on the novel was produced, which had the luxury of 7 episodes and over 350 minutes of screen-time to sort through the intricate arrangement of scrutiny and suspicions. For 2011's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, on the other hand, screenwriters Peter Straughan and Bridget O'Connor had to compress the narrative complexities into a 120-minute timeframe. The resulting picture is successful in capturing the novel's spirit and sense of paranoia, yet it's too truncated and difficult to follow (there are even poorly-delineated jumps in the timeline), leaving us with little to do but try to absorb the dialogue as we endeavour to grasp the bigger picture beyond the intricacies of individual scenes. It's laudable for filmmakers in the 21st Century to handle a conventional plot in an unconventional fashion, yet only occasionally does the material's density translate to enthralling cinema - it often lacks the sense of tension and emotional attachment that's pivotal to entice viewers to decode all of the sophistication. Ultimately, what we're left with is a few riveting vignettes and a few tedious segments which have not been effectively tied together to produce something overly rewarding.

Director Tomas Alfredson emerged on critics' radars with his Swedish masterpiece Let the Right One In back in 2008. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is Alfredson's English-language debut, and it's an immaculately-detailed, atmospheric piece of work that effortlessly summons the time and place of Europe in the 1970s. This is the type of motion picture which primarily concerns itself with mood and character, resulting in a true "slice of life" depiction of this era, as if Alfredson and his crew got in a time capsule and filmed actual secret agents at work. Yet, the movie still feels a bit too dry and impassive. Finding out the identity of the mole does not carry as much urgency as it should have, nor does it provide much momentum. It's all a bit blah. While Alfredson may have been an ideal choice in theory to helm the film, perhaps the director's inexperience in English-language features is to blame for the picture's occasional desiccation.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy's largest asset is easily the cast, which contains a handful of renowned British actors. Leading the pack is Gary Oldman, whose reserved but confident demeanour is an ideal fit for George Smiley. Oldman constantly submits top-notch work, yet his performance here easily ranks as one of his best; he disappears into the role of Smiley and makes us believe every utterance. Meanwhile, Colin Firth (who was recently awarded a well-earned Oscar for The King's Speech) is excellent, conveying a myriad of internal nuances with aplomb (aspects of his work are ripe for interpretation). Also terrific are Tom Hardy (Warrior) and Benedict Cumberbatch (BBC's Sherlock) as Ricki Tarr and Peter Guillam (respectively). In supporting roles you'll also find John Hurt, Mark Strong, Toby Jones, David Dencik, Ciarán Hinds, Stephen Graham and Simon McBurney, who do their utmost to try and maintain our interest during the convoluted narrative. The acting across the board is sublime.

Admittedly, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy does improve on repeat viewings, as you'll have the chance to decipher the film's intricacies with the story's ultimate trajectory at the back of your mind. Like most Oscar bait, this is a film which is happy to be appreciated rather than enjoyed. It's not that Alfredson and co. should have dumbed down the source material to include guns and action; it's that viewers are asked to do too much homework to compensate for the massive narrative condensation.

6.5/10

"Keep believing, keep pretending; we've done just what we've set out to do, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you!"

Created by Jim Henson, the Muppets first burst onto the pop culture scene in the mid-1950s, and several theatrically-released films followed in the decades to come. 1979's The Muppet Movie was the first theatrical outing of the beloved characters, and it's widely regarded as the best. To this day, it's easy to understand why The Muppet Movie is so well-liked; it's a fun, frequently side-splitting cinematic orientation for Henson's lovable critters. Admittedly, the movie does feel a bit like an extended episode of The Muppet Show, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Why force needless sophistication when the characters work so well within simple, hilarious vignettes? And since The Muppet Movie has heart to spare amidst the uproarious goings-on, it's hard to imagine anyone feeling dissatisfied after watching this flick.

The Muppet Movie is essentially an origins tale. As the story kicks off, Kermit the Frog (Jim Henson) is casually singing in a swamp where he's discovered by a Hollywood agent (Dom DeLuise). After the agent convinces Kermit to pursue a career in show business, the frog sets off on a cross-country trip to Hollywood. During his travels, Kermit meets and picks up various familiar faces who will soon become part of the Muppet troupe, including Fozzie Bear (Frank Oz), Gonzo (Dave Goelz), Miss Piggy (also Frank Oz), and many more. However, restaurant entrepreneur Doc Hopper (Charles Durning) wants Kermit to be the spokesperson for his struggling franchise specialising in French fried frog legs. And Doc refuses to take no for an answer.

The Muppet Movie announces itself to be a postmodern creation from the outset: as the film opens, the Muppets congregate in a private screening room to watch the movie they've just made about themselves. This device serves as a brilliant extension of The Muppet Show's self-referentiality (it's a variety show about putting on a variety show), and it establishes the Muppet characters as being "real" outside of the fictional universe of the movie within the movie. It's also a delightfully playful gesture, placing viewers in the right headspace to enjoy the impending silliness. The postmodern touches persist throughout the movie within the movie - at one stage, to skip excessive expository dialogue, Fozzie pulls out a copy of the script for Dr. Teeth to read in order for him to be filled in on Fozzie's adventures with Kermit so far. It's great stuff. On top of sly jokes like these, there are also sight gags and hysterical one-liners. Not all of the jokes are home runs, but there are more hits than misses. Besides, the film never drags as it constantly maintains an enjoyably light-hearted tone, which is one of the highest compliments a comedy can be awarded.

As with The Muppet Show, a large handful of guest stars were recruited for the film. Here, the cameo roster includes Mel Brooks as a crazy German scientist, James Coburn as a café owner, Dom DeLuise as the Hollywood agent who convinces Kermit to try his hand in Hollywood, Elliott Gould as the compere at the beauty show where Miss Piggy is discovered, Bob Hope as an ice cream vendor, Orson Welles as a powerful Hollywood executive, Richard Pryor as a balloon salesman, and many others. Big Bird even has a cameo, and Steve Martin pops up momentarily as a waiter at a restaurant (one of the film's best scenes). Fortunately, the Muppets themselves are not in any way outshone by their celebrity guests or human co-stars; this is primarily a story about the comical critters. The techniques used to bring the Muppets to life still hold up well to this day, and the personality-rich voice work allows us to come to accept the Muppets as real people who just happen to have felt for skin.

Of course, what would a Muppet production be without songs and music? Paul Williams' tunes are for the most part sublime, including the Oscar-winning The Rainbow Connection which makes for a poignant opening sequence. The songs do not feel forced; they're catchy and funny, and actually help to move the plot forward (though Miss Piggy's ballad admittedly drags). One of the standout songs is Moving Right Along, which is so insanely catchy that it'll stick with you for days (probably even weeks). However, The Muppet Movie is held back from perfection by director James Frawley. A television veteran with little feature film experience, Frawley's handling of the material is merely average - some of the framing and blocking is awkward and drab (shots go on for too long, and the Muppets have too much headspace a lot of the time). A better director could have catapulted the same material to stratospheric heights; as it is, the production could have been stronger.

The Muppet Movie is flawed, sure, but it's impossible to resist the infectiously fun vibe amid the hearty belly-laughs, the hilarious postmodernism, the joyous songs and the endearing protagonists. To this day, it stands as a great children's movie that viewers of all ages can enjoy. With all due respect to the classic TV show and the marvellous Muppet Christmas Carol, 1979's The Muppet Movie is the quintessential Muppet project. It encompasses everything that there is to love about Henson's creations within an almost timeless motion picture that stands up to repeat viewings.

8.1/10

"Hey, Rowlf, we're getting the gang back together."

The aim of 2011's The Muppets was to resurrect the age-old Muppet brand, giving fresh new life to the titular gang, reinvigorating old fans, and promoting the formation of a new fan-base to keep Jim Henson's joyous creations alive for a long time to come. Scripted by self-proclaimed Muppet fanatics Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller (who wrote Forgetting Sarah Marshall), this new Muppet adventure ticks all the proverbial boxes - there are plenty of inside jokes, guest stars, and lines which break the fourth wall, not to mention it's filled with a feeling of victory as the comical critters prove they still have what it takes to be the best entertainers in the world. But while this is a heart-on-its-sleeve charmer, the picture nonetheless fails to achieve its full potential. The Muppets tries extremely hard to be better than it is, resulting in an uneven flick that lacks energy and wit as a whole but tells a worthwhile story and contains isolated moments of excellence.

The Muppet Show stopped airing in 1981, and the last theatrical outing for the Muppet characters was 1999's Muppets From Space. Thus, the basis for this film is slyly self-referential: the Muppets are yesterday's news, and are no longer relevant in today's harsh, cynical world.
A puppet named Walter (Linz) and his human brother Gary (Segel) live unremarkable lives in Small Town, USA, and Walter's videos of The Muppet Show are his only source of joy. Gary and his long-time girlfriend Mary (Adams) are planning a trip to Hollywood for their anniversary which will include a tour of the Muppet Studios, and Gary decides to take Walter along. Walter's excitement becomes shattered, though, when they arrive to find the Muppet Studios in ruin and disrepair, having been abandoned by the group decades ago when they broke up. Worse, shady oil barren Tex Richman (Cooper) has purchased the site with the secret goal in mind of demolishing the buildings to drill for oil. Horrified, Walter sets out with Gary and Mary to convince the Muppets to save their studio. To achieve this, Kermit (Whitmore) looks to reunite the gang and put on a show.

In keeping with regular Muppet movies, the plot is a clothesline on which the filmmakers could add musical numbers, laughs and celebrity cameos. Somewhat reminiscent of The Blues Brothers, 2011's The Muppets sets up the central narrative crisis before switching to "we're getting the band back together" mode, providing the opportunity for classic Muppet characters to shine in their own vignettes. It's hilarious to see Gonzo the successful toilet magnate, and it's a masterstroke to find Miss Piggy working in the Paris offices of Vogue while Animal is in an anger management class. And once all of the Muppets are reunited, the makers dive right into iconic Muppet Show merriment. The final act, therefore, is more or less a 2011 reimagining of the bygone Muppet variety program, and it's a treat for long-time fans to behold the use of beloved old sets and songs (The Rainbow Connection is present). However, aspects of the final act are a bit too contrived, and, though the final scene gave this reviewer gooseflesh, the story's resolution in relation to Tex Richman feels too easy. The narrative is also formulaic - Kermit's pessimism even leads to a clichéd "all hope is lost, but his friends will help him through" section.

Perhaps the key problem with The Muppets is that its focus haphazardly shifts between traditional Muppet shenanigans and the new characters. While Walter's love for the Muppets gives the film its heart and joy, Gary and Mary's plot thread is dreadful; a superfluous, clichéd distraction that's detrimental to momentum. The movie could have been stronger if Kermit was the impetus for the plot, or if there was just plain no Mary (she even has an extraordinarily weak song and dance number). Ultimately, The Muppets works better in isolated sections than as a cohesive whole. It contains a handful of excellent, funny scenes (Kermit's musical rumination on the past is superb and heartfelt, and the team-assembling montage is pitch-perfect), but pacing is weak in between. Considering the enormous amount of talent involved (even Pixar assisted in the writing process), the best belly-laughs are in disappointingly short supply. It's a shame, too, as a few rewrites could have smoothened out some of the more glaring flaws and allowed this to be a true classic.

As Gary, Jason Segel looks to be having a ball interacting with the Muppets in a major motion picture, as he wears a smiling face pretty much all the time. And that's the problem; he's too broad and obvious. Rather than seeming in the moment, he looks to be in on the joke, and is therefore not funny. The rest of the cast, thankfully, are more successful. Amy Adams is bright and sunny despite her useless character, and Chris Cooper absolutely went for broke as the story's villain (he even does a rap, with side-splitting results). You'll also find a cavalcade of high-profile cameos; the likes of Emily Blunt, Alan Arkin, Whoopi Goldberg, Zach Galifianakis, Neil Patrick Harris, Sarah Silverman and Mickey Rooney are all present, and more.

Of course, the Muppets themselves are predictably wonderful here. The filmmakers retained an old-fashioned approach, so the Muppets are the result of puppetry and animatronics rather than distracting new-age CGI. Balcony hecklers Statler (Whitmore) and Waldorf (Goelz) are as funny as ever, Kermit the Frog (Whitmore) remains eminently charming, Miss Piggy (Jacobson) is still hilarious, and even The Swedish Chef (Barretta) shows up to great effect despite limited screen-time. Frank Oz was not involved in this film (he used to voice Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear, Animal and Sam the Eagle), but it's not obvious; his replacement (Eric Jacobson) has done a marvellous job. However, beloved characters like Pepe the Prawn were saddled with mere cameos. Most heartbreakingly, Rizzo the Rat does not even speak; he's on-screen for all of two seconds (I think that was him). Sure, it would take four hours to give the entire ensemble their due screen-time, but Rizzo does not even seem to be present, and has no sort of dynamic with the rest of the troupe.

Disney's marketing campaign for The Muppets was solid gold. For months, we were subjected to a number of hilarious parody trailers and satirical posters which skyrocketed this reviewer's hopes into the stratosphere. It's a shame, then, that the finished feature film is not as witty as its marketing campaign. The more one ponders the film (especially in regards to its contrivances and a completely inappropriate instance of product placement for Cars 2), the more it falls apart, but it's impossible to completely dislike the film due to how overly jolly and astute it is. If nothing else, Jason Segel, Nicholas Stoller and James Bobin have made the Muppets relevant and topical again, and have proved they still have mileage in the 21st Century. And considering that this century is dominated with soulless family films, The Muppets is nicely refreshing. The closing credits (which bring back an iconic tune) in particular left this reviewer with a big dumb grin on his face.

6.1/10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7.9/10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

8.0/10

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

8.2/10

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

The Guard can probably be described as Lethal Weapon meets Quentin Tarantino by way of In Bruges. However, it does not feel like a derivative motion picture or a slapdash mash-up. Instead, this is a hilarious, well-written and satisfyingly tongue-in-cheek dark comedy which possesses its own unique identity. Written and directed by John Michael McDonagh (his feature film debut), The Guard also reminds us just how good a buddy cop movie can be when the genre is handled correctly. McDonagh's picture is not quite as solid as something like 48 HRS or Lethal Weapon, but it's definitely worthy of them. With its doggedly offbeat and original sensibility, The Guard is often laugh-out-loud funny, and it affords more pleasures through clever writing and strong performances than all of those obnoxious, noisy summer blockbusters which earned more box office attention.

Set in rural Ireland, the story concerns policeman Sergeant Gerry Boyle (Gleeson), who has little regard for the rules and regulations of his career. He is a man who drinks heavily, spends his days off with prostitutes, indulges in various drugs, and is generally insensitive. As Boyle investigates a local murder, FBI Agent Wendell Everett (Cheadle) is sent to the area upon hearing word that a major drug deal is going down. Unable to speak Gaelic (the local dialect) and encountering disinterested locals, Everett is compelled to form an uneasy alliance with Boyle to solve the case.

The Guard truly hits the ground running; its first half is chock full of hilarious jokes and witty character interaction. All of the vignettes spotlighting Boyle are pure gold. The Guard also operates as a witty pastiche of Hollywood movies - Mark Strong's character particularly enjoys undermining clichéd dialogue whenever it's used, and the final scene contains a hysterical discussion about the possibility of a movie adaptation of the story. However, the film's second half is not quite as successful as the first from a script standpoint. The sharp one-liners are in shorter supply (though there are still a handful of zingers) and the picture becomes more concerned with its rather dreary plot. McDonagh has trouble as The Guard approaches its finishing line, too; it seems that he hunted for the easiest solution, thus opting for a final act culminating in a shootout that doesn't quite gel. Such a Hollywood touch feels out-of-place in this otherwise devilishly clever, unconventional indie.

Compared to more mainstream films, The Guard lacks glossy sheen, but that's a positive - director John Michael McDonagh opted for a naturalistic, rather uncinematic visual scheme befitting of the dreary Irish setting. This is topped off with an often catchy, at times Western-esque score courtesy of Calexico. The film's plot involves standard stuff like drug running and murder, but such elements are inconsequential at the end of the day. More than anything else, this is The Brendan Gleeson Show - the story-related proceedings exist solely to advance the development of the character of Gerry Boyle. And that's fine, because the film works remarkably well as a character study of this sloppy policeman basted in sarcasm who's perpetually offending his peers. The best thing about Boyle is that he's not a depthless caricature; he is wholly three-dimensional, as he comes of age during the story.

It helps that Gleeson is so excellent here. A veteran character actor, Gleeson has been a supporting player for years, and he's predictably delightful in this lead role. Gleeson's biggest success is that he keeps us guessing as to whether Boyle truly realises he's being so offensive or whether he's actually just trolling his arse off to get a rise out of everyone (at one stage Everett tells him "I can't tell if you're really motherfucking dumb or really motherfucking smart"). Fortunately, the supporting cast are just as good. In the role of Everett, Don Cheadle is a terrific straight man, and his grounded disposition serves to further highlight how abnormal Boyle truly is. Even the bit players are great here, from the drug dealers (Mark Strong is notably funny) to the sweet-natured prostitutes hired by Boyle, and even the horse than Everett questions.

Throughout The Guard, you're likely to be reminded of 2008's exceptional In Bruges. And there's a logical reason for that: In Bruges was written and directed by John Michael McDonagh's brother Martin (who also executed produced The Guard). While John's story is not quite as excessively violent as In Bruges, the films are markedly similar in their dry, sardonic humour, frequently profane dialogue and atmospheric sense of place, not to mention their great use of Brendan Gleeson. In Bruges has greater depth and resonance, but if you loved that film then you're sure to enjoy The Guard. While not perfect, the picture is a hoot thanks to witty writing and a sensational performance by Gleeson. Indeed, he has created the most memorable character of 2011.

7.7/10