Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Coming off back-to-back disappointments with Lady in the Water and The Happening, M. Night Shyamalan has fallen quite far since the day in 2002 when he was declared "The Next Spielberg" by Newsweek. 2010's The Last Airbender seemed like Shyamalan's one last chance to win back his fans and prove that he still has the ability to craft a great movie. Alas, it simply was not to be, as the film instead denotes the continuation of Shyamalan's downward spiral. Working for the first time on a project derived from pre-existing material, the filmmaker was at a total loss of how to revamp the Nickelodeon TV series Avatar: The Last Airbender into a free-standing live-action blockbuster that's suitable for general audiences (guess why the Avatar appendage was removed). The finished product is nothing short of an incomprehensible fiasco; a disjointed, painfully generic, utterly boring special effects extravaganza with awful acting, subpar editing, no heart, and no real purpose. If one replaced Shyamalan's name with "Alan Smithee" in the credits, The Last Airbender would just be another big-budget misfire. Yet, with Shyamalan at the helm, the film also seals the fate of a once-talented filmmaker.

The Last Airbender takes place in a fantasy world that's divided among four tribes, each of which represents one of the fundamental elements: Earth, Air, Water and Fire. Within each of these tribes are "benders", who are endowed with the gift of being able to control an element with their minds. It's been 100 years since the four nations have lived in harmony. It has also been 100 years since the disappearance of the Avatar; the only living being able to control, or "bend" all four elements, and thus maintain balance throughout the elemental world. Consequently, the world is on the brink of catastrophe. As fate would have it, two young people - hunter/warrior Sokka (Rathbone) and his water bender sister Katara (Peltz) - stumble upon a mysterious boy named Aang (Ringer), who turns out to be the long-lost Avatar. Soon, Aang begins training in the art of bending all of the elements; honing his skills to fulfil his destiny as the one who can restore balance to the previously harmonious world.

The Last Airbender is something akin to Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon meets The Karate Kid meets Star Wars, but it's not nearly as good as the aforementioned films. The otherworldly sights and lands in the movie were brought to life with virtually seamless visual effects, but the script is botched. The picture limps forward at a snail's pace; treating its own mythology as homework and its characters as burdens. It's hard to express how truly off-putting Shyamalan's screenplay is - it's overwrought and undercooked; a whirlwind of plot points and events without an understanding of cohesion or where to focus attention. There's a lot of awkward, clunky exposition as well. Worse, the characters are ineffectually one-note, emotionally-cold ciphers which move like chess pieces throughout the complex narrative machinations. A romance develops out of nowhere between characters we don't care about, too. And a lot of things, such as Aang's ability to drop in a trance and speak with a dragon spirit, are poorly motivated and baffling.

Shyamalan is a master of suggestion and suspense-building, but The Last Airbender demanded the exact opposite: it's a blockbuster for which nothing is left to the imagination. Thus, the director discarded his traditional approach in favour of something bigger, more obvious, and more in-your-face. The best thing which can be said about the filmmaking is that Shyamalan did not fall prey to the current trend of hacking action scenes into a million incoherent flashes. Instead, Shyamalan and cinematography Andrew Lesnie (who shot the Lord of the Rings trilogy and King Kong for Peter Jackson) used elegant long takes to allow for viewers to soak in the imagery. It makes for an interesting twist on routine summer-movie battles, yet there's no sense that anything is at stake. Consequently, the action never rises above its rapidly diminishing "wow" factor; making the film's final stretches feel long and tiresome, rather than compelling and exhilarating. In addition, as was done with Clash of the Titans, Shyamalan's The Last Airbender was hastily, messily and unnecessarily converted to 3-D for the sole purpose of sucking as much money as possible from unsuspecting consumers. The results are absolutely disastrous; soaking the brightness and clarity out of every frame. ILM's digital effects are impressive, but the 3-D effects ruin the CGI work.

Even Al Pacino and Robert De Niro would be unable to overcome Shyamalan's awful writing and inane dialogue, and thus the film is only worsened by a terrible cast. The only word which can be used to describe the acting is embarrassing. Did Shyamalan try to save money by doing his casting at junior high school drama productions? With thousands of child actors available, it's baffling as to why the director didn't choose performers who could display emotions with conviction or recite lines without sounding as if they're reading from a teleprompter. As Aang, newcomer Noah Ringer is wooden and charisma-free. Jackson Rathbone and Nicola Peltz are similarly contrived, and share no distinguishable sibling camaraderie as Sokka and Katara. Only Dev Patel (last seen in Slumdog Millionaire) is somewhat convincing as Prince Zuko.

The Last Airbender at least enjoys excellent production values, an effective score by James Newton Howard, and a general technical competency which meets usual big-budget production standards. Viewed as a series of fantastical snapshots, The Last Airbender is fairly impressive. Nevertheless, this is a movie rather than a Photoshop portfolio, and it's a woefully empty film at that. If Shyamalan aimed to deliver a message behind all of the action, it was lost in translation. And if the filmmaker hoped to bring some feeling to the characters and story, he missed the mark by a country mile. If only there was a semblance of substance to back up the bold aesthetics. The Last Airbender was produced for a mammoth $150 million, but alas not a cent of that went into script polishing or casting. The biggest kicker is the ending, which boldly sets up a sequel. But honestly, who would want to see a sequel if the first film cannot be done right? It was an interesting experiment to let Shyamalan handle a big-budget spectacle, but The Last Airbender shows that the filmmaker should return to territory that better suits his talents.

3.2/10

Godzilla may be the King of the Monsters, but 1933's King Kong shall forever remain the king of monster movies with its groundbreaking special effects, involving story and poignant climax. The quintessential precursor to "event" blockbusters and one of the first productions to blur the line between fantasy and reality, the picture is a thrilling filmmaking relic from the Golden Age of Hollywood. With a screenplay by James Ashmore Creelman and Ruth Rose, King Kong conveys a message amid the spectacle, making it more than a simplistic creature feature. In the decades following King Kong's release, the picture inspired several rip-offs and remakes, while Toho even pitted the titular ape against Godzilla in a 1962 picture, and Warner Bros. incorporated Kong into their MonsterVerse. Due to advances in filmmaking and special effects, aspects of 1933's King Kong have admittedly aged, but the picture remains an awe-inspiring classic and arguably cinema's greatest monster movie. It is easy to understand why King Kong succeeded in 1933 and why many still hail the feature as a timeless masterpiece: it has lost little of its power to astound and astonish.

In New York City during the 1930s, filmmaker Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) hopes to film his new project in an uncharted part of the world: a mysterious location known as Skull Island, where a ferocious creature, Kong, is rumoured to live. Chartering a ship commanded by Captain Englehorn (Frank Reicher), Denham hires a crew but cannot secure a beautiful female lead for the picture due to the production's secrecy. While searching on the streets of New York the night before the voyage, Denham meets the destitute Ann Darrow (Fay Wray) when she tries to steal an apple in desperation. Denham is struck by Ann's beauty, buying her a meal and convincing her to join the film crew as the project's lead actress. During the voyage to Skull Island, Ann falls for the ship's tough-but-likable first mate, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot). However, after they arrive at the mysterious island, the natives kidnap Ann and sacrifice her to Kong, a giant gorilla. Kong is immediately infatuated with the fragile Ann, and he carries her away to his mountain lair while an armed search party ventures into Skull Island's perilous jungles to rescue her.

The seemingly simple story leads to a succession of set pieces showcasing thrilling conflicts and chases, all set at a breakneck pace by directors Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack. With the movie fleshing out the relationship between Ann and Driscoll before Kong's introduction, tension permeates the various set pieces as prehistoric creatures decimate Denham's crew and threaten the proverbial damsel in distress. Despite stringent 1930s censorship rules, the content throughout King Kong is surprisingly shocking at times, with a sizeable body count. Kong tramples people, chomps on his victims, shakes several of Denham's men into a ravine, and even drops a woman off a tall building. In one scene, a Brontosaurus also brutally kills several members of Denham's crew. Additionally, the directors filmed a sequence involving spider-like creatures attacking the surviving men who fell into the ravine. This scene - known as the legendary "Spider Pit Sequence" - was excised from the final cut because it was deemed too shocking and, according to Cooper, it "stopped the story." In the years following King Kong's release, several violent scenes were trimmed or removed for rereleases, prompting a worldwide search for surviving materials to digitally restore the full version in 2005. However, the Spider Pit Sequence remains lost.

Directors Cooper and Schoedsack and their three credited cinematographers demonstrate an excellent eye for visuals, making Skull Island feel like an actual location instead of a generic studio set. The crew first approaching the eerie island aboard a lifeboat still looks incredibly convincing and impressive, with superb use of shadows, fog, and birds flying across the foreground, all of which give the shot genuine dimension. Indeed, the picture's special effects extend beyond the monsters, as the film features several techniques to generate an authentic sense of scope. In the pre-digital age, intricate matte paintings and miniatures were used to create the vast expanse of Skull Island and New York City, with optical printers combining different elements into a single shot. The directors also used rear-screen projection techniques to place the live actors alongside the animated monsters, including one impressive shot when the characters walk along the body of a Stegosaurus. The compositing remains believable even in the 21st Century, even if the contrast between the rear-projected footage and the live-action footage slightly differs. Further contributing to the film's immense magic is Max Steiner's atmospheric accompanying score, which remains memorable and haunting. Steiner's soundtrack was also highly influential, as King Kong was the first Hollywood production to feature a scene-specific score instead of simple background music. (See, for example, a native descending the stairs with a beat underscoring each footstep.)

The performances admittedly reflect their place in cinema history with grandiose gestures and theatrical expressions, which is unsurprising considering that several actors began their careers starring in stage productions. Nevertheless, the three lead actors remain impressive. Robert Armstrong is strong and authoritative in the role of the excitable Carl Denham. With a booming voice, he actually feels like a film director, making him an ideal choice to play this crucial character. Bruce Cabot is a tad wooden by contemporary standards, but he is nonetheless a convincing Jack Driscoll, and the performer absolutely nails the dashing hero persona. Rounding out the central trio is Fay Wray, the film's longest-surviving principal cast member, who passed away in late 2004 while Peter Jackson was in production for his King Kong remake. Wray shrieked her way into the history books as Ann Darrow, and it is her most recognisable role. Her innate beauty and innocence make her perfect for the character, and her screaming is iconic.

The real star of King Kong is the titular ape. Special effects pioneer Willis H. O'Brien and his assistant, Buzz Gibson, were responsible for the state-of-the-art stop-motion animation on display throughout King Kong, refining the techniques the animator previously used for 1925's The Lost World. Cooper and Schoedsack also use a mechanical model of Kong's head and shoulders for the close-ups, which look noticeably smoother. Although Kong is a special effect and does not speak, O'Brien gives the character an honest-to-goodness personality in his movements to make him seem more lifelike, including playing with the broken jaw of a deceased Tyrannosaurus Rex. Kong's struggles, capture, and eventual death are heart-wrenching, and his love for Ann is so convincing that it is easy to overlook his waxy eyes and puppet fur. During the iconic climactic moments atop the Empire State Building, when Kong sniffs Ann's clothes, touches his own blood in shock, desperately swings at the attacking biplanes and takes one last longing look at his beloved bride, he appears intrinsically human and real. Kong is not a mere maquette but an actual character with tangible emotions. Skull Island's other creatures are equally impressive, with the fight between Kong and a Tyrannosaurus Rex representing one spectacular highlight. Although the Kong vs. Rex battle is a scant three minutes in length, it took seven weeks to animate. The stop-motion effects lack the precise movement of digitally-created monsters, but the painstaking art form deserves respect and admiration, especially considering its influence on contemporary cinema. Furthermore, the astute sound design helps make the creatures seem more authentic, with the audio engineer Murray Spivack creating Kong's roar by combining lions and tigers.

While watching 1933's King Kong in the 21st Century, one question springs to mind: if you put aside the film's reputation in cinematic history and treat it as entertainment, does it still work? In this reviewer's humble opinion, it does, as many of the key set pieces remain incredibly thrilling, and the storytelling is masterful, with the directors maintaining a captivating pace. Viewers who are accustomed to the slick digital effects of modern blockbusters might struggle to adjust to the film's black-and-white photography and primitive special effects, but this does not diminish the astonishing achievement that the picture represents. Cinematic special effects significantly improved over subsequent decades, but filmmakers rarely complement the polished visuals with the emotion or humanity that characterises King Kong. After the film's immense commercial success in 1933, the studio - RKO Radio Pictures - rushed out a hastily assembled sequel, The Son of King, which hit cinemas just nine months after its predecessor.

10/10

Almost three decades before Peter Jackson re-imagined 1933's King Kong for a new generation of filmgoers, Italian B-movie producer Dino De Laurentiis had the same idea. Naturally, though, due to the filmmaking technology of the period, 1976's King Kong looks subpar compared to Peter Jackson's technological marvel, and it's also unable to achieve the level of adventure and spectacle which characterised the classic that started it all. In addition, several drastic changes were made for this King Kong which may irk fans - characters names are absent, the ship voyage happens without any build-up, the eventual New York sequences are tragically short, and the finale does not occur atop the Empire State Building. Nonetheless, while the movie is easy to mock and laugh at, it's difficult to genuinely dislike. If viewed from a critical perspective, this is a bad movie. However, the campy, tongue-in-cheek approach is constantly fore-grounded, and King Kong is a lot of fun as a result.

In this version, Kong ("played" by Rick Baker) resides on a mysterious island shrouded in fog. The Denham character here is Fred Wilson (Grodin); a pompous oil executive who travels to Kong's island in search of petroleum deposits to tap (bear in mind that the movie was produced during the mid-'70s oil crisis). Jack Driscoll was replaced here with a long-haired anthropologist named Jack Prescott (Bridges), who stows away on Wilson's ship. Completing the Kong trinity is Dwan (Lange), who fell off a destroyed yacht and subsequently floated around the ocean in a rubber dingy until the ship happened upon her. The crew eventually arrive at Kong's island, where the natives kidnap Dwan and offer her as a sacrifice to the giant ape. Kong instantly takes a liking for Dwan and begins travelling home with his bride while Jack ventures across the island to save her.

Nothing can prepare you for the unmitigated disappointed of Kong's island (which is never even referred to as Skull Island). Apart from Kong, the only other monster to see here is a giant snake which was pulled off with abysmal special effects. Kong wrestles said snake, but the sequence is absurdly unconvincing. The set-pieces in the 1933 King Kong were more exciting. Furthermore, nothing really happens on the island - Dwan just seems to spend a lot of time in Kong's hand while Jack does a lot of trekking. Disappointment is also imminent when the film shifts to New York. Just as the pacing begins to pick up, Dwan stupidly and incomprehensibly decides to persuade Jack to stop so they can drink some alcohol. Increasing the implausibility of this situation, Kong manages to find her in this random bar despite it being one of the thousands of places in New York City. This leads to the eventual finale that's set atop the World Trade Center. This climax has neither the majesty nor the emotional kick of the other incarnations of King Kong.

With The Towering Inferno and The Poseidon Adventure topping the box office, the '70s was the decade for disaster movies, and King Kong was produced with this mindset. The film merely boils down to a big guy in a gorilla suit destroying miniature sets. Surprisingly, the first hour or so of the movie is genuinely good, with director Guillermin having generated an atmosphere of mystique and with composer John Barry having provided one of his most effective scores. Yet, this effectiveness dissipates once Kong is introduced. After Kong enters the picture, an awkward love story begins developing which feels forced and unearned. Furthermore, this version lacks the original film's magic. The same level of craftsmanship is not apparent here, too - rather than stop-motion animation, Kong is just a man in a monkey suit, and it's blatantly obvious. Interestingly, the special effects are wildly uneven; ranging from decent to downright awful. Most appalling is the life-size mechanical representation of Kong which is on-screen for all of 10 seconds and looks as stiff and ridiculous as any failed special effect can. The FX may have won an Academy Award, but they are not impressive. Academy members even resigned in protest of the decision.

To the credit of screenwriter Lorenzo Semple Jr., the script contains a number of witty, hilarious lines - more than one would expect from this type of movie. (As a good example of this, Grodin at one stage exclaims that Kong was going to rape Dwan...) The performers, meanwhile, happily hammed it up and clearly had great fun with their respective roles. As the hippie anthropologist hero, Jeff Bridges is incredibly goofy, and he managed to maintain a sense of humour from beginning to end. Also in tune with this adamantly campy approach is Charles Grodin as the requisite bastard and villain, so to speak. Grodin chewed the scenery with glee, and it's a fun performance to watch. Jessica Lange (a little-known actress when she appeared here) is effectively flighty and ditzy as Dwan, though the material is heavily flawed (she gets over the deaths of many individuals really fast, for instance). Kudos to Lange for executing this badly-written character while maintaining a straight face.

Perhaps the most fatal flaw of King Kong is that - despite containing dumb fun elements to keep us laughing from time to time - the film far outstays its welcome with a 130-minute runtime. It may be filled with a lot of screaming, yelling and crashing, yet the pacing is at times interminably slow, and the film is occasionally boring. Still, at least King Kong is not offensive in the way that most remakes are, even if it isn't close to matching the brilliance of the other versions of the story. Yet it's perhaps a tad unfair to compare the three King Kong movies since they were all made in different periods with different filmmaking technology and with different aims in mind. Still, the 1933 and the 2005 versions are masterpieces, and this 1976 version is simply lacking in terms of majesty, spectacle and emotion. It's almost as if the trio represent a sandwich, with the bread (i.e. the 1933 and 2005 versions) being more appetising than the filling in the middle (i.e. the 1976 version). You can only watch this King Kong for what it is: a campy 1970s disaster movie.

5.3/10

Due to his work on the much-acclaimed live-action Lord of the Rings trilogy, Peter Jackson's name has become synonymous with the word "epic". Following his sojourn into Middle Earth, the question on everyone's mind was simple: where could Mr. Jackson go next? His decision to helm a reimagining of King Kong may have seemed like a strange choice for the filmmaker, yet it was a match made in cinematic heaven - Jackson's treatment of the classic story is an epic, entertaining and moving blockbuster. Jackson and his team have expanded upon the original 1933 movie to add welcome depth to the characters and present a whole new interpretation of the source material. While it clocks at a mammoth three hours - nearly two times the runtime of the 1933 film - Jackson's soulful, entertaining epic stays afloat for the entire show. Along with James Cameron and Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson is one of a select few Hollywood directors capable of understanding how to successfully marry emotion and spectacle.

Set in 1933 at the height of the Great Depression, stage actress Ann Darrow (Watts) is struggling to earn a wage. But a chance meeting with filmmaker Carl Denham (Black) permanently changes the trajectory of Ann's life. Carl also has his problems, though - his financiers have pulled the rug out from beneath him, and Carl is struggling to both finish his latest movie and find a leading lady to appear in it. After some arm-twisting, Ann accepts the job as Carl's leading actress, while Carl also cons his way into hiring a cast & crew and chartering a ship. However, Carl's people are oblivious to the fact that the filmmaker has set his sights on the mysterious Skull Island. During the voyage, screenwriter Jack Driscoll (Brody) takes a liking for Ann, and a romance begins blossoming between the two. Unfortunately, their fortunes take a turn for the worst upon arrival at Skull Island. The island natives kidnap Ann and offer her as a sacrifice to Kong; a massive ape who immediately becomes smitten with the blonde actress. Thus, the crew venture into the dense jungles of Skull Island on a mission to rescue Ann.

King Kong is a lavish, high-octane, epic action-adventure. The film was produced for a gargantuan $200 million, and every cent of it shows up on the screen. For Jackson, making this film was not just following up The Lord of the Rings, but also accomplishing a lifelong dream. Since childhood, Jackson has been enraptured with 1933's King Kong, and he attempted to make his own version when he first came to Hollywood in the mid-1990s. Flush with money and awards after the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Universal Pictures allowed Jackson to remake King Kong on his own terms. Like all personal projects, this particular flick ran the risk of not working, but Jackson's passion for the material fortunately did not dim his creative senses. Jackson opted to use the 1933 King Kong as his blueprint, and has greatly expanded upon it. The basic premise is similar, but the experience of Jackson's King Kong is wholly different. In fact, Jackson has produced what could be considered the definitive King Kong, as virtually every narrative possibility was explored here. People have complained about the three-hour runtime, yet no moment feels inessential. Granted, by the end of King Kong you feel like you've experienced a long motion picture, but that's the same with all epics, from Lawrence of Arabia to Gone with the Wind to Seven Samurai.

Instead of transplanting the story of King Kong into a contemporary setting, Jackson recreated the early 1930s backdrop of the original film. To the credit of the production team, the recreation of '30s-era New York is stunning, as are the lavish jungles of Skull Island, both of which were excellently rendered using a mixture of digital effects and intricate sets. Fortunately, the rest of the CGI effects are equally impressive; believably conveying a world of fantastic creatures and astonishing sights. With this film, Jackson set a new standard for visual effects advancements, as Kong and the dinosaurs were rendered using amazingly detailed, borderline photorealistic effects. If you're seeking pure eye candy, King Kong is the world's biggest candy store. Jackson's directorial efforts are similarly impressive - the extended action sequences on Skull Island are rousing and exhilarating, while the quiet moments are affecting. Some action beats do push the boundaries a little too much, but the set-pieces are always enjoyable nonetheless. Topping this off is James Newton Howard's powerful score. Despite having only seven weeks to compile the music, Howard managed to deliver several marvellous compositions that augment the epic feeling of the material.

The cornerstone of Peter Jackson's King Kong is not the action-adventure material, but instead the relationship between Kong and Ann. This is where the heart and soul of the movie is derived from, and where the film emerges as something more than a visual extravaganza. In the 1933 King Kong, Ann is terrified of the giant ape - he treats her like a plaything, and she both hates and fears him. In the 1976 version, a forced romance develops between the ape and the female protagonist, but it feels unearned. However, for Jackson's version, a tender, two-way relationship between Ann and Kong is meticulously developed over the course of the movie. Additionally, for all of the action and exhilarating destruction on display, the final section of the movie is essentially an affecting portrait of how cruel humans can be towards those we do not understand. It certainly helps that Kong was brought to life using phenomenal digital effects - his range of motion is superb, and his facial expressions are so sincere that it's hard to believe he is not real when you look into his eyes. Andy Serkis, who "played" Gollum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, lent his motion capture skills to Kong, and Serkis' performance is stunning.

As for the cast, all of the actors are impressive. Naomi Watts is a joy to behold as Ann Darrow; she's frequently ravishing, and she embodied the spirit of Fay Wray while also presenting her own interpretation of the role. Watts had the difficult job of convincing viewers that she's in love with a CGI creation, but she pulled it off with aplomb through sincere facial expressions. Meanwhile, as Carl Denham, Jack Black has received a lot of criticism, yet his performance works - he played it straight when the material called for it, and he was able to convey Carl's insanity with supreme effectiveness. And as Jack Driscoll, Adrien Brody is perfectly fine. While he's not an actor that one would typically think of to portray an action hero, Brody put in a solid effort. In the supporting cast, Thomas Kretschmann is a particular stand-out - he's a show-stealer whenever he's on-screen as Captain Englehorn.

As an epic action-adventure, King Kong excels tremendously. All of the technical aspects are top-drawer: the cinematography, James Newton Howard's score, the digital effects, the pacing, the action sequences, and the direction. And as an emotional journey, King Kong is still a success. It's a terrific piece of entertainment, but it also has a soul. King Kong is 2005's biggest and best blockbuster, and - in the shadow of Roland Emmerich's Godzilla - Jackson's film proves that it is possible for a classic monster to make a triumphant re-appearance. And what of the extended edition of the film, I hear you think? It adds a bit of interesting footage, but nothing feels truly essential. Plus, the swamp scene is marred by atrocious underwater effects. The extended cut is only for established fans.

9.2/10

The notion of a fourth Resident Evil flick will almost certainly induce heart-scratching, especially considering that the preceding films in the series were panned by viewers and critics alike, and the franchise has been spluttering on life support for years. However, the first three Resident Evil flicks were successful from a commercial standpoint, which is all that matters in Hollywood. Thus, 2010's Resident Evil: Afterlife was produced in an attempt to recharge the franchise, with Paul W.S. Anderson returning to direct and with the movie being captured in 3-D to bring the blood-soaked zombie mayhem into your lap. It's a polished, slick effort for sure, but it's deathly dull and joyless. Worse, writer-director Anderson was so concerned with handling the technically advanced cameras (the same cameras used for Avatar, in fact) and servicing the 3-D format that he gave absolutely no thought to such essentials as story, character and suspense.

In the first Resident Evil movie, the Umbrella Corporation unleashed a rampaging virus that decimated the planet by turning most of the population into flesh-eating zombies. At the end of the third movie, Alice (Jovovich) created an army consisting of clones of herself. Thus, Afterlife opens with Alice and her army attacking the Umbrella Corporation Headquarters in Tokyo, which ends with the clones going up in flames along with the building and the employees. Afterwards, Umbrella boss Albert Wesker (Roberts) injects the real Alice with a serum that revokes her super powers and makes her human again. After a subsequent plane crash from which Alice magically walks away unscathed, she heads to Alaska in the hope of finding the promised safe haven from the world's zombie takeover. Alas, no such haven exists. And it's here when Alice reteams with Claire Redfield (Larter) who's mysteriously stricken with amnesia. In searching for more signs of life, Alice and Claire end up in Los Angeles where they encounter a group of survivors - including Claire's brother Chris (Miller) - who are holed up in a prison facility and are seeking rescue.

The only true upside of Afterlife is the 3-D visuals, which are crisp and clear; emphasising the fact that all of the action was in fact captured in 3-D rather than shoddily converted in post-production. Clearly, Anderson embraced the dimensional possibilities while staging a plethora of Matrix-style action sequences, with the mayhem being frequently slowed down to allow for a viewer to study every last flip and weapon discharge in glorious detail. Additionally, to the writer-director's credit, Anderson hired the excellent "Tomandandy" to score the zombie mayhem, and the music adds an energetic backdrop for all the action. Yet, while the visuals are striking, the film seems like more of a special effects demo reel than anything more substantive. Alas, Anderson clearly had no clue about how to build tension, create an atmosphere of menace, or generate thrills. No interest in the horror genre is displayed here, as Anderson instead favoured decade-old action movie conventions to see the film through. Unfortunately, too, slow motion effects were overused to the point of nausea. Indeed, if the slow motion techniques were excised, it's doubtful that the film would've been longer than an hour.

Striking visuals are pretty much all there is to the Resident Evil: Afterlife experience, which suffers from some of Anderson's most inane scripting to date. In addition to the often woeful dialogue, Anderson opted to forgo atmosphere-building or any intriguing exploration of the zombie-crawling city in favour of dreary expositional scenes set indoors, with the forgettable ensemble of characters going through the dull paces on dull soundstages. The narrative momentum of Afterlife is akin to a car that's spluttering on petrol fumes. The pacing is even sluggish during the action scenes, and narrative surprises are non-existent. And, on top of the fact that nothing of note actually occurs in the film, the material is rather incoherent. Take, for instance, a battle between Claire and a hulking, hooded monster wielding a massive hammer. Who or what is this unstoppable beast? Does it work for the Umbrella Corporation? If it's a zombie, then why, unlike other zombies, is it able to use weapons? None of this stuff is addressed, since the giant was only introduced to show off more special effects and 3-D showmanship.

Added to this, it doesn't help that Milla Jovovich (Anderson's wife) is hopelessly bland in the central role of Alice. Jovovich seems unaware that it's possible to be badass and have a personality at the same time, and thus her delivery of various quips ring hollow. She's capable of handling the physical demands of the role, but everything else is lacking. (As a side note, since Jovovich is scrumptious eye-candy and is married to Paul W.S. Anderson, the Resident Evil flicks should simply be subtitled Check Out My Ridiculously Hot Wife.) Ali Larter and Wentworth Miller are serviceable as the Redfield siblings, but they were denied the chance to spend much screen-time together or do much bonding - as a matter of fact, it's the film's biggest missed opportunity. The weakest link of the cast is Shawn Roberts as Wesker, whose line delivery is both appalling and perpetually contrived.

Perhaps all of these criticisms should not come as much of a shock to anyone who's familiar with the Resident Evil films so far. Ever since the second instalment, the films have been concerned with providing constant action sequences in locations reminiscent of the video game landscapes. While Afterlife provides a few worthwhile moments and is impressive from a visual standpoint, it's nonetheless a groaning bore that only rarely comes to life. This film is a mess. It's action for the sake of action, but there's hardly any fun in it.

4.3/10

2010's Jonah Hex was the victim of severe studio interference, and the hallmarks of this fact plague the final product - it runs a scant 70 minutes and features choppy editing, neutered violence, and an often incoherent narrative. Another failed attempt to launch a DC Comics character for the big screen, the movie is paper-thin, with the plot stripped to its barest essentials and characters as shallow as a puddle in the desert. Indeed, it is doubtful that the theatrical cut actually represents the vision of anyone behind the production. And if this is the true vision of director Jimmy Hayward or the screenwriters (Crank masterminds Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, who were set to direct but quit over creative differences), what the fuck were they thinking? Especially from a tonal standpoint, Jonah Hex is a goddamn mess - it's part spaghetti western, part supernatural tale, part black comedy, and part action film, yet it does not work as any of them. It is a tragic waste of time and talent.

Based on the DC Comics character created by John Albano and Tony Dezuniga, Jonah Hex concerns the titular bounty hunter played by Josh Brolin. During the Civil War, Hex turns on his psychotic superior, Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich), by refusing a direct order to burn down a hospital before killing Turnbull's son, Jeb (Jeffrey Dean Morgan). In retaliation, Turnbull murders Hex's family and scars his face. Due to the resuscitative efforts of the local Native Americans, Hex survives the attack and receives the ability to speak with the dead. Although Hex desires revenge, Turnbull fakes his death in a hotel fire. Fast forward a few years, and Hex has become a notorious bounty hunter. However, President Grant (Aidan Quinn) calls Hex into military duty after Turnbull's men hijack a train and steal the components for an experimental weapon. See, Turnbull is assembling an anachronistic super-weapon capable of destroying America, and he plans to enact his plan on Independence Day.

At the very least, this big-screen Jonah Hex features solid production values across the board, including intricate costumes, lavish art direction, robust digital effects and impressive make-up, with Brolin's transformation into the scarred Jonah Hex looking particularly terrific. With this in mind, and with the reliable Brolin in the lead, Jonah Hex should have been one hell of a movie, but instead, it's one hell of a mess. Notorious reshoots aside, the four credited editors butchered the flick in the editing room, resulting in a barebones final cut. One crucial problem is that it's difficult to properly care about anything that occurs. For a viewer to become invested in Hex's quest to kill Turnbull, it is imperative for the film to properly convey a tragic sense of loss. Even exploitation action movies like 2007's Death Sentence effectively manage this by showing the protagonist with his family before their demise. Alas, Jonah Hex does not show Hex interacting with his family before their deaths - in fact, there is only one brief shot of them before Turnball murders them. Without proper investment in what occurs, the film amounts to an empty technical exercise that even underwhelms as pure entertainment.

Worse, the mythology behind the character of Jonah Hex is lost amidst the careless, overzealous editing and hasty reshooting. According to Brolin, the crew reshot 66 script pages in just 12 days under the direction of Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I Am Legend), which explains why the final product feels so slapdash. Hex's supernatural powers distinguish him from similar vigilantes, but the "one foot on earth, the other foot in hell" aspect of his character is tragically half-baked. There is also minimal consistency regarding Hex's abilities. Towards the film's beginning, he dodges bullets and moves with superhuman speed. Later, he has trouble fist-fighting just one guy. Additionally, Hex uses high-tech weapons just once but never bothers to use them again. And if the Native Americans can heal bullet wounds, why can't they heal Hex's face as well? On top of this, there are cutaways during a battle sequence to an otherworldly brawl between Hex and Turnbull that is unnecessary and confusing. As a consequence, you do not end up caring about either struggle.

It was perhaps ill-conceived to let Jimmy Hayward - the director of 2008's Horton Hears a Who - direct this gruff comic book adaptation. Hayward is clearly out of his element here, though this could be more of a reflection of the studio interference that mangled the narrative beyond the point of satisfying coherence. Neveldine and Taylor clearly wrote Jonah Hex with an R rating in mind, but, according to Hayward, the editors carefully finessed the final cut to retain their desired PG-13 rating, resulting in awkward cutaways and a jarring editorial rhythm. Thus, people are killed, but their deaths lack viscera. And despite the protagonist being a badass, Hex never swears. Worse, one sequence depicts Hex at some sort of pro wrestling event where cowboys are watching two beastly humans fighting in a pit. Hex is disarmed and thrown into the pit with the monsters, but instead of a brutal fight scene, the film immediately cuts to a sequence of Hex departing the arena after having beaten the fighters off-screen. A PG-13 rating can work, but it's a problem when the film is visibly pulling punches. If a movie is about a stone-cold killer, shouldn't it be logical for us to see his work?

To his credit, Brolin (who regrets participating in the production) is an excellent Jonah Hex, and Malkovich does a fine job as Turnbull. Those two give it their all, but their performances cannot enliven the terrible material. Meanwhile, Megan Fox is merely on hand to provide eye candy as Hex's love interest, a gun-toting sex worker named Lilah. Although easy on the eyes, her performance is awful. Her role lacks meaty characterisation, and her screen time is so limited that it would not have been hard to eliminate her from the film altogether without any negative impact on the story. The supporting cast features several recognisable names, including Aidan Quinn, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Michael Fassbender, Lance Reddick, Will Arnett, Wes Bentley and other familiar faces. Unfortunately, the film utterly wastes them.

It would be hard to fault the concept behind Jonah Hex, as the notion of a badass 19th-century vigilante kicking ass is bursting with potential, but the resultant film suffers from dreadful execution and questionable creative decisions. A few scenes are admittedly enjoyable, but, taken as a whole, the film does not work. There are too many holes, too many cutaways, too many loose ends, and too many undeveloped elements, in addition to all of the untapped potential for R-rated badassery.

2.3/10

For those who witnessed the faux Machete trailer at the beginning of the Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez double bill Grindhouse and wished it were a real movie, your prayers have at long last been answered. And, happily, Machete is actually good; a delirious, irresistible blast of R-rated mayhem benefitting from top-notch filmmaking techniques, a tongue-in-cheek social commentary, and an obvious affection for schlocky movies of the '70s and '80s. Directors Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis knew exactly what the fans wanted with this feature-length expansion, and went wild to deliver everything one craves from an exploitative B-movie: over-the-top, graphic violence, scenery-chewing villains, plenty of cheese, a plethora of one-liners, and some female nudity. It's destined to leave you with a big dumb grin on your face.

The titular Machete (Trejo) is a former Federale whose life and career comes crashing down when his family is killed by ruthless drug kingpin Torrez (Seagal). Three years later, Machete has taken to the life of a day labourer who becomes lost amidst the millions of Mexican faces in south Texas. Much like the events seen in the original faux trailer, Machete is offered $150,000 by a shady businessman (Fahey) to assassinate United States senator John McLaughlin (De Niro), but finds himself to be a patsy in a setup designed to make the senator a more sympathetic figure. As it turns out, Torrez is also involved with the senator scheme. When Machete learns of Torrez's involvement, he and his compatriots declare war on McLaughlin's new world order, and begin arming themselves with an array of deadly weaponry.

Like Rodriguez's Planet Terror, Machete is a campy contemporary take on the excesses of classic schlock cinema. Rodriguez and his crew have crafted a tongue-in-cheek, amusing blood-soaked tale of vengeance and conspiracy which tracks Machete as he encounters all types of corruption and idealism. The only questionable aspect of Machete is that Rodriguez chose to use this sleazy exploitation epic as a platform for political grandstanding - the film denigrates U.S. immigration policy, and addresses it in an anything-but-subtle way. All of the speechifying slows down the frenetic pace from time to time. I'd rather sit back and enjoy the silly R-rated carnage, not be challenged by any profound underlying themes. Granted, it's easy to overlook these shortcomings and enjoy the movie, but it could've been tighter and more enjoyable had this political content been excised or cut down.

Thus, while Machete is slightly overstuffed and overlong, the film really works when it buckles into its groove, goes for the jugular and embraces its pedigree. This is a motion picture specialising in the ridiculous and the insane, and the more insane it gets, the more fun it is. Happily, the action is coherent, devilishly enjoyable and constantly exhilarating. This is thanks in large part to Robert Rodriguez, who's so good at handling these types of movies that he should stop making god-awful kiddie flicks (like Shorts) and focus on giving the world more awesome films like Machete. Naturally, it's impossible to take anything seriously here (not even the death of Machete's family) but this is to be expected. The tone is spot-on, with the film asking us to take all of the absurdly over-the-top proceedings with a grain of salt.

It's interesting to note that significant chunks of the Machete were reportedly filmed in 2007 for the faux trailer, while the "fill in" segments were filmed more recently for this feature-length expansion (certainly, most of the stuff from the trailer seems to be here). If this is the case, the seams are not visible. Also note-worthy is the fact that Rodriguez chose not to give the movie a lot of scratch damage (like in Grindhouse) to give the impression that it has been locked in somebody's basement for decades. The movie's opening sequence has scratch damage, but the technique was subsequent abandoned for the remainder of the flick. The scratch damage technique would've made the film more enjoyable, for sure, but its absence remains a relatively minor flaw. However, the colour scheme throughout the film seems to resemble schlocky cinema from the '70s and '80s, which is a welcome aesthetic decision.

Danny Trejo has long been one of Rodriguez's go-to actors, and he's absolutely perfect for the role of Machete. Trejo played the material straight despite its ludicrously over-the-top nature, and his delivery of one-liners such as "Machete don't text" are priceless. He was born to play Machete, with his craggily face and badass presence evoking memories of Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin. The star has played supporting characters for many years now (and has nearly two hundred credits on his acting résumé), but this is the iconic role he will likely be best remembered for. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is comprised of the most random selection of famous actors in recent memory, but everyone nonetheless hit their mark. Robert De Niro was game for the tone that Rodriguez and Maniquis were aiming for, and he's frequently amusing. Similarly, Cheech Marin was a terrific choice for the gun-toting priest, and his scene to shine is awesome. Michelle Rodriguez and Jessica Alba are also convincing in their respective roles, while Jeff Fahey and Don Johnson chewed the scenery as memorable villains. Steven Seagal's performance is notably terrible (is he meant to be Mexican?), but he's at least well-suited to the nature of the role. Rounding out the cast is Lindsay Lohan, who features here as a drugged up slut. It's doubtful Lohan was even acting...

In its own way, Machete definitely works. For my money, this is some of the purest fun to be released during 2010, along with The Expendables, Kick-Ass and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. It pretty much delivers both what it promised and what fans of the faux trailer yearned for. Granted, if you're not an action fan and if you found the faux trailer to be repugnant, there's nothing you'll enjoy here. But if you loved the faux trailer, there's a good chance you'll love the whole thing. When the film's end credits tout the possibility of two sequels - Machete Kills and Machete Kills Again - it's virtually impossible not to feel a tinge of giddiness at the prospect.

8.2/10

2010's The Social Network is a two-hour motion picture consisting almost entirely of dialogue that's about nerdy guys from Harvard who write computer code, get rich and sue each other. Literally, that's The Social Network in a nutshell. And yet, this is easily one of the most exciting, enthralling and compulsively watchable movies of 2010. How does that work, I hear you think? It's simple: great actors, great screenwriting and great filmmaking. Written by Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing) and directed by David Fincher (Zodiac, Fight Club), the film manages to flesh out a gallery of fascinating characters while chronicling several key events in the development and growth of the popular social networking site Facebook. Additionally, through mining Facebook's origin story, Sorkin and Fincher have produced a motion picture that's about far more than its ostensible subject matter.

Essentially, the film consists of a series of flashbacks to illustrate the testimonies being provided in depositions for two separate trials which were held during the latter half of the 2000s, both of which involved Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg (Eisenberg). When we first meet Zuckerberg, he's a Harvard student whose girlfriend Erica (Mara) is breaking up with him. Afterwards, Mark strikes back with a productive evening of hacking and coding, resulting in a website sensation which humiliates the female students and crashes the Harvard servers. This attracts the attention of a trio of upperclassmen, who hand Mark the task of creating a social interaction site for the school. However, this idea gives Mark the inspiration to create a website called 'The Facebook', which is funded by Mark's only friend Eduardo (Garfield). It rapidly explodes in popularity. Soon, Napster founder Sean Parker (Timberlake) swoops in to take command of the newly renamed Facebook. Sean's involvement alienates Eduardo but provides Zuckerberg with the tools to elevate Facebook from a dorm room project to a worldwide phenomenon.

Sorkin based his script for The Social Network on Ben Mezrich's book The Accidental Billionaires, which is a distillation of countless interviews that were transferred into narrative form. It's interesting to note that Mezrich's primary source for the book was Eduardo, so the events depicted in the book - and, thus, the movie - are understandably slanted towards his point of view. This fact was publicly brought out by Zuckerberg, who also refused to cooperate with Mezrich while he was conducting research for the book. Nevertheless, both the novel and the cinematic interpretation can be said to represent a reasonable account of how Facebook came into being since few of the historical events are in dispute. Throughout the film, Mark's cavalier nature while assembling the site and putting it online is especially interesting. It becomes clear that the concept is not entirely his, but he believes to be entitled to full ownership because he developed the codes and put in all of the work. A viewer is left to decide for themselves what constitutes intellectual property theft, and, more directly, whether Zuckerberg did in fact steal Facebook.

On paper, The Social Network sounds dull. However, the picture received a considerable kick from Aaron Sorkin's exceptional skills as a wordsmith. The Social Network is a whirlwind of talk, and the intelligent, fast-paced dialogue is as exciting as any action sequence from Iron Man 2 or Kick-Ass. David Fincher is not exactly the first filmmaker one would think of to handle Sorkin's wordy script, but the pairing is unexpectedly ideal; Fincher and cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth brought the script to life with moody autumnal imagery which adds depth and dimension to the narrative. With The Social Network, Fincher also further proved his skills as a visually gifted filmmaker, as well as continuing to demonstrate that he's just as adept with characters and story as he is with camerawork. The tense score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is equally beneficial for ensuring viewers never lose interest, too. Granted, a few sequences within the film were ruined by unnecessary visual showmanship (including a flashy rowing race in England), but Fincher otherwise played the material low-key; allowing Sorkin's excellent dialogue to speak for itself and letting Mark's on-screen behaviour be the film's primary special effect.

Maintaining momentum throughout the film is the fast-talking speech pattern adopted by most of the actors. The role of Mark Zuckerberg was ripe for caricature, but star Jesse Eisenberg humanised the character in this career-best performance. Eisenberg, who has existed below the radar for several years now, can never again be labelled as a Michael Cera clone after this film. The actor adeptly conveyed Zuckerberg's anger, hurt and brilliance, as well as the man's vulnerability, arrogance and impatience. Alongside him, Andrew Garfield imbued his role of the wounded Eduardo Saverin with warmth and humanity. Another standout performer here is singer-turned-actor Justin Timberlake as Sean Parker. Timberlake has never been more energetic or charismatic on-screen - he's a genuine movie-stealer. Meanwhile, Rooney Mara (2010's A Nightmare on Elm Street) makes an impact despite limited screen-time, and she's every bit as brilliant as her co-stars.

Ultimately, The Social Network is not a fully rounded picture since it takes a few shortcuts and is thus not definitive. That aside, this is an assured masterpiece, and one of the greatest pictures of 2010. Where Inception and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World dazzled audiences with impressive special effects, The Social Network plays a far more restrained game yet is somehow no less exciting. This is a gripping, expertly made and wonderfully performed character study that conveys a modern story with some classic, almost Shakespearean themes. You do not have to be a Facebook member to enjoy what this movie offers.

9.3/10

The Horseman is an Australian addition to the long line of "vigilante dad" films that stretch back to Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring, in which a father - normally either a widower or a divorcee - is made a tad nutty by grief, and begins ruthlessly slaughtering those responsible for a crime against a loved one. In essence, The Horseman represents a throwback to the type of old-school, badass revenge thrillers born from the same cinematic school that also gave the world Mad Max, Chopper and Romper Stomper. Make no mistake: this picture is repugnant, violent, gory, challenging, and difficult to love. With that said, though, The Horseman is an easy film to admire, and, if you can stomach extreme gore, easy to enjoy.

Christian (Marshall) is a blue-collar Aussie bloke from Queensland, Australia working as a pest controller who learns that his daughter has died as the result of a heroin overdose. Shortly after, an anonymous parcel arrives in the mail containing a Z-grade porn movie featuring his deceased little girl, who was obviously so drugged up during filming that the sexual acts could be construed as rape. Shattered and enraged, Christian sets out with toolkit in hand on a crusade of revenge to find those responsible and enact bloody vengeance. Along the way, Christian encounters and strikes up a friendship with a teenaged hitchhiker named Alice (Marohasy) who is inexorably pulled into his quest.

Writer-director Steven Kastrissios made his feature debut with The Horseman, and did a fantastic job of letting the movie unfold in a tight non-linear fashion. The subplot involving Alice - who acts as a kind of surrogate for Christian's lost daughter while also being a similarly lost soul - anchors the film and provides a welcome sense of humanity in between the bursts of violence. Yet, while the movie does contain more character development than most films of this ilk, The Horseman is nonetheless somewhat lacking in this department. Most of the film is dedicated to torturing and brutal fights, and one gets the sense that the film could have been superior had it focused a bit more on the characters. Kastrissios has reportedly acknowledged that the original cut of The Horseman was two-and-a-half hours long; a full hour longer than the film in its theatrical form. Kastrissios also admitted that the missing scenes focused exclusively on character growth and exposition. Thus, a far superior edit of the film likely exists.

The Horseman is as unsettling as any Saw or Hostel-style romp, yet it's far more gripping. The movie is also a visceral, peek-through-your-fingers experience - in particular, one scene containing an interrogation and a urethra examination with a bike pump will cause every male viewer to involuntarily place their hands over their laps as a protective shield. Director Kastrissios, who also edited the film, clearly learned his genre lessons well - he knew how to competently film action and fight sequences with a gripping, gruesome flair. And the fights here are not stylistic or beautiful - they feel unrehearsed. They are savage brawls fuelled by rage and a desire for survival, and can be painful, albeit exhilarating to watch. The camerawork is suitably grim, and thus the tone of the visuals fits the story extremely well. The majority of the film takes place at night, in the dark, or in dirty, soiled locations, reflecting the ugliness of the material. However, there are minor technical imperfections and awkward moments from time to time that draw attention to the movie's low-budget nature.

At the centre of all the action is the fascinating character of Christian; a realistic, believable anti-hero who makes mistakes and continually proves himself to be human. He's not a skilled secret agent or an unstoppable force - he's a regular bloke and a loving father looking to take out his grief and rage on those responsible for his daughter's death. Each clash is an effort, and each fight is a rough mess whereby regular household items become lethal weapons. Never before has the average toolbox provided such a deadly arsenal. Added to this, towards the film's end, Christian gradually begins to realise that everyone - himself included - is guilty in his daughter's death, and he struggles to find someone to blame. It's a commendable, thought-provoking twist on the usual vigilante movie formula. Not to mention, it's easy to relate to Christian's situation. Fortunately, Peter Marshall's emotionally-charged performance as Christian is an absolute tour de force. Alongside him, Caroline Marohasy is alternately vulnerable and resolute as Alice. Meanwhile, the bad guys, as can be expected, are little more than empty ciphers, but each of the actors portraying the antagonists are wholly convincing.

Is The Horseman original? No, not at all - speaking from a narrative perspective, it's a very standard fare which borrows liberally from Death Wish and other vigilante flicks, with the clichés being thrown into a uniquely Australian setting to distinguish it from similar productions. Yet, this picture remains a tough-as-nails, badass revenge flick that pulls no punches. It's not a film for the family or for the moderately squeamish, but action junkies should tremendously enjoy The Horseman.

7.9/10

When Gone Baby Gone entered multiplexes in 2007, Ben Affleck soared from a tolerable star with a tattered professional reputation to an unexpectedly graceful filmmaker. Much like his directorial debut, a lot was riding on Affleck's follow-up effort, 2010's The Town - and, more directly, there was a lot riding on Affleck himself. For one, the actor had to prove that Gone Baby Gone (one of the best movies of 2007) was not the Hollywood equivalent of a one-hit wonder, and he also had to overcome the fresh new challenge of directing himself; a potential hazard he prudently avoided the first time around. Affleck was up to the challenge, however, and the result is this compelling, masterfully-realised crime saga that's worthy of Michael Mann's Heat. To be sure, The Town was put together using a litany of familiar genre elements, but the manner in which Affleck assembled the clichés results in an engrossing two-hour cinematic experience. Affleck afforded a spellbinding pulse to the proceedings; composing a bravura suspense piece that effectively examines the anxiety of criminal behaviour.

An opening caption prefacing The Town states that the neighbourhood of Charlestown, Boston has produced more bank robbers and armoured car thieves than anywhere else in the world. Also, bank robbing in Charlestown is passed down from generation to generation like any normal trade. The protagonist, Doug MacRay (Affleck), is from such a family. Doug leads a troubled life, pulling off bank and armoured truck robberies with a number of loyal comrades. When one heist goes slightly askew, Doug's hot-headed partner James (Renner) takes bank manager Claire (Hall) as a hostage, and only releases her once the coast is clear. Feeling guilt and attraction for Claire, Doug attempts to develop a relationship with the frightened woman partly as a way to keep tabs on her while the FBI carries out an investigation. As they begin to fall for each other, Doug prepares to pull off what he intends to be his final bank heist before skipping town. However, his troubles are just beginning, as local crime kingpin Fergie (Postlethwaite) makes it clear that his business with Doug is not over yet.

The Town is based on Chuck Hogan's novel Prince of Thieves, which Affleck adapted with co-writers Aaron Stockard (who co-wrote Gone Baby Gone, too) and Peter Craig. Compared to other recent crime-dramas, this movie particularly stands out due to the character nuances. Gone are the days when robbers are outright bad and cops are outright good - it's grey all over here, with Doug trying to be noble and ethical while the tactics of the FBI are less honourable than those of the men they're pursuing. Additionally, a lot of the drama and energy of The Town is derived from two sources: the romance between Doug and Claire, and the friction among the criminals. The film may not be as morally complex or thematically deep as Gone Baby Gone, but it demonstrates Affleck's capacity to tackle a more mainstream project. The filmmaker took a standard cops & robbers film fare (with a thief looking to go straight, a woman representing his last chance at a normal life, a dogged lawman out to catch the crook, and the proverbial one last job) and made well-worn genre tropes seem as real as any story you'd see on the news.

2007's Gone Baby Gone was a more insular thriller, permitting Affleck the opportunity to build as a filmmaker without the crushing burden of a bloated budget or a large scope. The Town further inches Affleck up the industry ladder, as this picture assumes a more commercial batting stance with a number of shootouts and heist sequences. Luckily, Affleck's additional acting duties did not impact his directorial skill. During his years as an actor, Affleck clearly studied those helming his various productions, and those lessons have paid dividends. The action sequences are bursting with intoxicating tension here, and are easy to follow (Affleck did not adopt rapid-fire cutting or shaky-cam techniques). The robbers' disguises are all fairly creepy as well, from the "Skeletor with dreadlocks" masks to the horror film nun outfits, and this lends a sense of macabre to the heists. Additionally, The Town captures the look and feel of Charlestown excellently - it's brimming with authenticity. This is one of those productions in which the setting becomes a character in itself.

While The Town proves that Affleck is deft at both style and substance, the film also demonstrates that he is an excellent director of actors, including himself. This is one of Affleck's best performances in years, and it reminds us that he is an actor of considerable talent when not saddled with unfortunate dialogue or bad directors (like Michael Bay). However, the real show-stealer of this picture is Jeremy Renner, who infused his character of James with meaty callousness and nothing-to-lose lunacy. Renner is virtually a 21st Century James Cagney here - he's a pug-faced time bomb of a thug. In addition, Rebecca Hall is exceptional as Claire, while Blake Lively disappeared completely into the role of James' sister. Pete Postlethwaite also makes an impact as Fergie, as does Jon Hamm as an FBI agent. Meanwhile, Chris Cooper is outstanding as Doug's incarcerated father. Although his appearance amounts to a cameo, Cooper's role emphasises the fact that Doug's fate is virtually inevitable given his background.

Fans of the crime genre should be very pleased with The Town, while other movie-goers should be happy to enjoy an adult-minded thriller after a summer of explosions and special effects. Whatever its minor flaws, this is a finely-tuned instance of genre filmmaking, and a turbulent story explored with a steady hand. The Town is positive proof that Affleck's directorial debut was no fluke, and it launches Affleck into the upper echelon of American filmmaking talent.

9.1/10