Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"You are here because you some Justin Beaver, Miley Cirus lookin' motherfuckers."

Are you a fan of the old 21 Jump Street television show expecting this new film to be a respectful revamp? If so, stay far, far away from 2012's 21 Jump Street. Outside of the title and the basic premise of cops going undercover in a high school, this film has nothing in common with the old TV series as it adopts a completely different tone and spirit. The film exists in the same continuity as its predecessor, but it's a vehemently R-rated affair with a new slate of profane characters and a modern comedic sensibility. And surprisingly, it actually works, especially with the film evoking meta undertones as it raises some hilarious hell. See, the picture may seem like a flimsy excuse for filmmakers to steal ideas behind an old brand in lieu of original thinking, but 21 Jump Street subverts this by actually acknowledging its own derivative nature.

In high school, nerd Morton Schmidt (Hill) and jock Greg Jenko (Tatum) were sworn enemies, and they made each other's lives miserable. Seven years later, the two meet once again at the police academy. Here, Schmidt excels at exams but lacks the right physical attributes whereas Jenko is the exact opposite. Recognising that they make an ideal team since they fill each other's gaps, the two become best friends. After hopelessly botching a drug bust during their first few days as police officers, Jenko and Schmidt are transferred to the recently resurrected 21 Jump Street program run by a self-professed angry black captain (Cube). Given new identities and forced to pose as brothers, the two are sent to infiltrate a local high school in order to find the manufacturer of a new drug. Times have changed since their high school years, though - while Schmidt finds himself falling in with the cool crowd, Jenko ends up befriending the science geeks.

For those who need a history lesson, the original 21 Jump Street TV series ran from 1987 to 1991, and it's notable for bringing a young Johnny Depp into the spotlight. While it had its fun moments, the show wasn't a comedy as it treated its dramatic elements seriously. 2012's 21 Jump Street, on the other hand, is pretty much all comedy and satire. It's clear that writers Jonah Hill and Michael Bacall had a ball examining today's high school climate, with the film observing Jenko's utter bewilderment as the students shun his bad boy routine and display shocking newfound enthusiasm for studying. In one brilliant scene, Jenko also finds himself incapable of identifying some of the peculiar cliques which have now emerged. While revelling in this high school madness, 21 Jump Street is one hell of an entertaining riot, and even the standard-order plot elements are engaging. Once the final act begins to kick in, however, Hill and Bacall's script succumbs to some of the most eye-rolling comedy clichés imaginable, including break-up-to-make-up scenarios (Morton has to fix things with both Greg and his love interest), the predictable "getting kicked off the case" situation, and a climax ripped straight out of the "Action 101" handbook.

To put it bluntly, the trailers for this 21 Jump Street were awful, advertising the film as a dumbed-down reboot of the old TV show featuring the interminable "talents" of Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum. It seemed wrong to turn a classic police/high school drama into something more akin to Superbad. Happily, though, this is another classic case of poor marketing, as the finished movie is far more assured and satisfying than the trailers led us to believe. Directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller have a gift for pacing, as they imbued the proceedings with an infectious energy that keeps the film moving forward at an agreeable clip. 21 Jump Street is uneven, however. While it lands plenty of laughs, some jokes are too easy and not every scene gels (a brawl between Schmidt and Jenko in particular needed tighter editing).

Against all odds, Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum are excellent and enormously funny here. Tatum has done a lot of growing up over the last few years - once bland and charmless, he has turned into a charismatic leading man with a gift for humour and a firm grasp on comic timing. As for Hill, he's far less irritating than he usually is, and he's often hilarious as Schmidt. But it's Ice Cube who steals the show here in his few scenes as the angry black police captain, spouting line after line of profanity-laced, tremendously funny dialogue. Who would've thought Ice Cube would be a standout in anything? Meanwhile, the sweet Brie Larson and a funny Dave Franco are pitch-perfect as a couple of high-schoolers, while Rob Riggle chews the scenery on several occasions as a teacher.

The thought of a modern reboot of a cancelled decades-old TV show is often cringe-worthy. With any other filmmakers onboard, 21 Jump Street would've been a half-assed attempt at nostalgia which lazily rehashed a few episodes of the series. It's therefore commendable and relieving that the creators seized the opportunity to make a genuinely funny, entertaining movie that's also unafraid to laugh at itself.

7.2/10

"You killed my father, and you stole my elephant!"

Considering the success of 2003's Ong-bak and the sudden international interest in martial arts wunderkind Tony Jaa, it's unsurprising that Jaa swiftly reunited with Ong-bak director Prachya Pinkaew for another round of cinematic mayhem. The result is 2005's The Protector (a.k.a. The Warrior King), and it's one of the most viscerally exciting action pictures in recent memory. For sure, its plot is borderline incomprehensible and Pinkaew's storytelling is garbled, but the film is nevertheless a satisfying showcase of bone-breaking brawls, punches, kicks and phenomenal fight choreography, ensuring the picture is worth watching for action fans at the very least.

When two of his family's beloved elephants are stolen by wicked criminals, Kham (Jaa) is forced to travel from his native Thailand to Sydney in Australia to retrieve them. Once in Sydney, Kham becomes entangled in the city's seedy underworld populated by corrupt cops and Chinese gangsters. As he searches for his elephants, he receives assistance from a Thai police official (Wongkamlao) and a sympathetic young Thai girl (Khongmalai) who was forced into prostitution.

Anyone who saw Ong-bak is likely to experience déjà vu throughout The Protector. For this film, a missing Buddha statue head was simply replaced with stolen elephants, resulting in a similar plot following a similar trajectory. Hackneyed stories are typical in the action genre, but Pinkaew's storytelling is unusually weak and choppy. Most glaringly, scene transitions are often jarring and poor - some scenes just end abruptly as if missing a second half, while other scenes seem to just begin without sufficient context as if they're missing a first half. Furthermore, an early boat chase is absolutely dreadful; the editing is unbelievably choppy, it makes no coherent sense at all, and a few shots were visibly sped up. It's a major red flag if an action scene in an action movie ignites more bewilderment than excitement. Suffice it to say, too, The Protector proceeds with the logic of an 8-bit video game, as legions of nameless thugs materialise out of thin air for Jaa to combat (including various buffed up wrestlers). One assumes the main bad guys just have an endless supply of henchmen who loyally follow them all the time.

The horrible boat chase aside, Pinkaew's action sequences are often fluid and fun. Whenever Jaa is permitted the chance to engage opponents using his trademark Muay Thai fighting style, The Protector comes alive like nothing you've ever seen before. Jaa and Pinkaew cranked up the levels of brutality and intensity to such extremes that Ong-bak looks positively restrained in comparison. Jaa's fighting is rough and raw yet beautiful, with a mixture of stunning balletic movements and vicious battering that's sure to leave you squirming. Better yet, Pinkaew eschewed heavily-stylised filming and editing, allowing us to watch Jaa work without any flashy distractions. While some scenes were achieved with the aid of CGI, no digital effects were used to enhance Jaa's fighting - the crazy little bastard did everything the old-fashioned way.

The biggest selling point of The Protector is a single Steadicam shot running a good five minutes which tracks Jaa as he fights his way to the top of a criminal hideout. Along the way he takes out dozens of opponents; throwing them over banisters, breaking through walls, and tossing them through glass. It's mind-boggling to consider the intricate planning it must've taken to stage such a shot, not to mention all the time it must've taken to choreograph the fights between Jaa and all of the poor sons of bitches who dare to cross his path. The scene is one little sliver of this 110-minute picture, yet it renders the entire film worth watching, demonstrating that trite storytelling is forgivable in an action flick just as long as there's phenomenal ass-kicking to compensate.

On a slightly less positive note, the acting is uniformly dreadful and the dialogue is insufferably bad. Jaa is worthy of inheriting the martial arts mantle left behind by the likes of Jet Li and Jackie Chan, but he still has yet to show the same charisma which characterised his predecessors. As a result, while Jaa's fighting is awesome, interest often wanes between the brutal beatings. Alongside Jaa, the Australian performers sound appallingly stiff and awkward, while the acting is even worse from the Asian performers who speak broken English. And don't get me started on Petchtai Wongkamlao... The irritating man was intolerable enough in Ong-bak, and he's even worse here. Wongkamlao specialises in comic relief, but he would be far better used as a mute or a corpse.

To their credit, those behind The Protector attempted to infuse the film with some type of heart. Its story struggles with coherency, yet, at its core, this is a tale about a boy's love for his beloved elephants - and a hero working to rescue animals is a refreshing alternative to saving women or childhood friends. Still, there's no getting around the film's myriad of problems, making this a film strictly for the action junkies. And if you do seek out the movie, make sure it's the original 110-minute edit. See, when The Protector was being shopped around for an American release, the Weinstein Company got involved, and they're notorious for butchering. Thus, the film was trimmed by about 25 minutes for its Stateside release, which makes no fucking sense. This reviewer has only viewed the original cut, and has no intention of checking out the butchered US version. I suggest you think similarly.

6.5/10

"For a few immortals to live, many people must die."

In Time is a rare instance of an original science fiction movie. Rather than having a basis in pre-existing material, this flick's ambitious concepts and ideas came directly from the mind of writer-director Andrew Niccol (Gattaca, Lord of War). Unfortunately, however, ambition is not the same as achievement. In Time could've been the Total Recall of this decade and one of the most thoughtful sci-fi films of 2011. Instead, whereas Total Recall was a smart, satisfying actioner unafraid to play thought-provoking mind games, 2011's In Time is an insult to the intelligence, and it squanders its marvellous premise on a silly chase movie which runs out of steam by the halfway mark.

In the year 2161, humans are now genetically engineered to live until the age of 25. Any extra time they gain in their lives is the world's new form of currency; everyone has a digital clock on their forearm which displays how much time they have left, and it fluctuates depending on how much they gain or lose through working at a job, paying for various things, or generally living. 28 years old and residing in the ghetto, Will Salas (Timberlake) is a typical blue-collar worker struggling to make ends meet. However, Will is given the opportunity to escape his mundane existence when he meets the rich but depressed Henry Hamilton (Bomer), who gives Will the 116 years on his clock before committing suicide. After Will's mother (Wilde) "times out", Will leaves his restricted time zone for a more luxurious area where he rubs elbows with the rich. However, Will's newfound time raises suspicion with law enforcement. To escape wrongful incarceration, Will runs off with Sylvia Weis (Seyfried), the daughter of supremely wealthy businessman Philippe Weis (Kartheiser). As a romantic connection slowly develops, Will and Sylvia set out to topple the status quo.

To the credit of writer-director Niccol, In Time does show evidence of having smarts underneath its Hollywood exterior. A conversation between Will and Henry introduces a fascinating allegory pertaining to today's society, where the world is becoming overpopulated and the cost of living is perpetually rising. What a shame this brain fodder is jettisoned immediately afterwards, paving the way for Niccol to adopt a bland routine of chases and false tension. Unfortunately, this leaves a lot of unanswered questions. For instance, do humans still get diseases in their genetically engineered form? Do overweight people still exist? Is there any form of government? Do people still presume there's an afterlife, or is a dying person the equivalent of a machine shutting down? Since the film takes place in Los Angeles, what's the rest of the planet like? What would happen if someone's forearm containing their clock was chopped off? Not to mention, time transactions are ridiculously flawed - it's way too easy to steal someone else's time and there's no form of security. Credit card transactions require pin codes and signatures, yet in this world it's as easy as overpowering someone at an arm wrestle to steal time. It seems Niccol came up with a few ideas but failed to sufficiently think them through.

Another huge downfall of In Time is its reliance on the worst Hollywood action stereotypes. For instance, Will and Sylvia pass out after surviving a (ridiculously-executed) car accident, and regain consciousness a few seconds after their time has been stolen. Meanwhile, an early scene in which Will's mother dies (for ineffective forced emotion) is painfully predictable, and its split-second precision is facepalm-inducing. And why is it that a sheltered rich girl like Sylvia can fire guns with such precision and confidence that veteran gunslingers would be envious?

To Niccol's credit, production values are admittedly impressive - the forearm clocks look fantastic, and set design is magnificent. However, that's where the praise ends. Despite the polished visuals, there's absolutely no tension throughout the flick. Will and Sylvia come this close to death several times, yet we always know that they'll survive simply because the actors have their name above the title. One could argue that any action film has this fault, but great action filmmakers overcome this by keeping us wondering whether or not the hero/s will actually be safe. Niccol's characters, on the other hand, never seem to be in genuine danger. The climax, too, is an utter dud - it introduces a cheap twist which only reinforces that Will's reason for being hunted in the first place is flimsy and lazy.

Speaking of Will, his character is all over the shop. One minute he's a nice clean mother's boy who risks his life to save a stranger, and the next he's an insufferable prick skilled with firearms who arrogantly pushes Sylvia around. And why is it that Will - who sternly tells Henry that he wouldn't waste a century of time if he had it - strolls straight into a casino when he arrives in Richville? It doesn't help that Justin Timberlake is so devoid of personality. Timberlake has shown that he can act, but he's uninteresting as an action hero. It's also odd that characters in the film are meant to be physically frozen at the age of 25, yet the 30-year-old Timberlake and the 35-year-old Cillian Murphy look their true age. It doesn't stop there, as several other side characters look easily older than 25. Is an "under 25s" casting call really that complicated? Amanda Seyfried was exactly 25 years old during filming, and she isn't too bad, but she shares no chemistry with Timberlake, and it's clear that the actors were chosen for their good looks rather than their talent. Furthermore, the relationship which emerges between Will and Sylvia feels obligatory and forced.

Perhaps the worst crime perpetrated by In Time is that it takes itself too seriously. There is not a modicum of humour to unearth here, rendering the film incredibly boring. In Time shows promise in its conceptual framework, but motion pictures are a medium to tell stories, and Andrew Niccol was unable to construct a worthy story around his half-baked ideas. It's not worth wasting two hours of your life you can never earn back to watch In Time.

3.8/10

"Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not the end."

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is an utter delight. Here is a satisfying comedy unafraid to have a heart and a brain, and it has no interest in toilet humour or cheap gags. It's one for the mature crowd, as it earns lots of belly-laughs through genuine wit and doesn't shy away from the inherent dramatic elements of its story. Based on Deborah Moggach's novel These Foolish Things, director John Madden (Shakespeare in Love) has given this picture a warm tea-and-biscuits type of charm, rendering it suitable for older, more cynical moviegoers probably disenchanted with today's filmic landscape. Add to this an all-star British cast including the likes of Judi Dench, Bill Nighy and Maggie Smith, and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a film you cannot miss. Anyone of any age will have fun with it.

The story starts in England, where a varied bunch of retirees begin looking to make their autumnal years easier on the wallet. There's the recently-widowed Evelyn (Dench) who's awash with debts; Muriel (Smith), who requires a hip replacement; Graham (Wilkinson) who's looking to revisit his past and confront old demons; couple Douglas (Nighy) and Jean (Wilton) whose marriage is under strain; and singletons Norman (Pickup) and Madge (Imrie) in search of adventure and love. They all come together in India, where they stay at the seemingly enticing Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel has fallen into disrepair. The hotel's well-intentioned owner Sonny (Patel) dreams of providing a wonderful resort for retired folks, but is facing financial difficulties. Added to this, Sonny's disapproving mother (Dubey) lingers around, doubting Sonny's capacity to run the hotel and wanting him to enter an arranged marriage.

Similar the rundown hotel of its title, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a feature which slowly but surely grows on you. Blessed with a smart script by Ol Parker, it's charming, emotional, witty and engaging, not to mention it possesses unexpected depth and richness. All of the main players are strongly-written and three-dimensional, and the film thoughtfully reflects upon what it means to grow old, how we view ourselves in old age, and how we value the elderly. While old folks are often seen as useless in Western society, the main players here all have something to give, and they're only respected and given the chance to effectively contribute when they move to a different culture. And to Ol Parker's credit, a number of character arcs defy our predictions. The only real problem with The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is that it's less interesting while dealing with Sonny's dilemmas. It's laudable for this minor character to be given some dimension, but his romantic subplot is too familiar and contrived, betraying the intelligence otherwise exhibited as the narrative plays out.

It's a daunting task to juggle a large ensemble of characters with their own individual stories, but, to the credit of Madden and Parker, the film for the most part succeeds in this respect. It's great fun to watch the different responses of each guest; Graham and Douglas have an extraordinary time, while Muriel constantly moans and Jean hates everything she sees (loudly!). Admittedly, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel does drag at times, but technical contributions are otherwise top-notch. India is a country rich with culture and heritage, and Madden's crew have wonderfully captured these characteristics. Thanks to Ben Davis' luscious cinematography, you can almost feel India's humidity on the noisy, crowded streets amid the stalls, markets and traffic jams. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel lets us bask in the country's flavours, and experience the exquisite beauty of India when riding on a tuc tuc or rickshaw while your ears are filled with a range of sounds.

Easily the biggest strength of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is the cast, which features some of the finest elderly actors that Britain has to offer. Watching this gathering of immense talent is an utter pleasure, and all of them are perfect in their respective roles. The standouts are Judi Dench and Bill Nighy, the former of which is especially adept at dealing with the story's dramatic and emotional elements. Maggie Smith, meanwhile, is as brilliant as ever in the role of Muriel, and she had a field day with one-liners. And then there's the always-reliable Tom Wilkinson, who displays immense gravitas as Graham. Slumdog Millionaire star Dev Patel also appears here, delivering an enthusiastically over-the-top performance as hotel manager Sonny. Rounding out the cast is Celia Imrie, Ronald Pickup and Penelope Wilton, who are equally as terrific as their higher profile co-stars.

It's definitely worth checking into The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. This is a lovely movie, and it's a sublime showcase for its terrific cast which effectively mixes light-hearted laughs with scenes of pathos. If you have a good sense of humour and an open mind, you'll no doubt have an enjoyable time with this flick. It will leave you with a big smile on your face and a warm heart... Who can complain about that?

8.5/10

"This night changes everything for me!"

Ti West's fourth motion picture undertaking, 2009's The House of the Devil is an '80s-style horror film clearly inspired by the classic shockers of yesteryear, and it even begins with a grindhouse-style opening title sequence that would make Quentin Tarantino smile. West wanted to emulate the likes of The Amityville Horror and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre so much, in fact, that House of the Devil claims to be based on true events even though the story is almost entirely fictional. Alas, it seems that West channelled so much effort into recreating the technical specifications of classic horrors that he neglected to write a script that's worthy of his inspirations. Thus, while definitely atmospheric, The House of the Devil is an uneventful, mostly banal shocker which lacks punch and has limited replay value.

Sweet-faced college sophomore Samantha (Donahue) has had enough of her sex-crazed roommate, and begins looking to rent her own apartment. Problem is, she doesn't exactly have enough money to afford a place of her own. When she spots a flyer advertising for a babysitter, Samantha jumps at the chance, calling the mysterious Mr. Ulman (Noonan) who's in desperate need of assistance. When Samantha's best friend Megan (Gerwig) drives her to Ulman's ominous residence, she learns that she's actually needed to watch over Ulman's elderly mother-in-law. To secure her services, Ulman throws lots money at Samantha, and she agrees to the job. At first, Samantha's "babysitting" assignment seems straightforward and worry-free, but, as the night wears on, she realises she's being threatened by insidious forces.

The House of the Devil is set in the 1980s; an era of walkmans, ancient televisions and absolutely no cell phones. It also genuinely looks as if it was filmed several decades ago. While most throwback horror films merely aim to recreate the spirit of its forerunners, Ti West went one step further, shooting on 16mm film stock and solely relying on old-school special effects (including classical-looking blood) to give the impression that the film has been rotting in a vault for twenty-five years. West's recreation of the period is immaculate too, with era-specific costumes, hair styles, cars and set design effortlessly selling the illusion. Furthermore, West took heed of what worked in all of the best classic horror films. Therefore, House of the Devil is mostly dedicated to atmospheric build-up, and there are long takes which increase the sense of dread. West definitely had the right idea, which makes it even more unfortunate that the result is unfulfilling and underwhelming.

For the better part of an hour, West's camera tracks Samantha as she aimlessly strolls around Mr. Ulman's house, unoccupied and creeped out. While the film is peppered with effective standalone interludes that thrill or chill, at no point does the humdrum story become quite as terrifying or gripping as one might hope. And if you're willing to endure the meandering narrative hoping that a knockout finale is right around the corner, you're going to be disappointed by the familiar-feeling climax that's more repellent than chilling. The payoff is completely inadequate - after a good 70 minutes of restrained build-up, all we get is a slapdash chase ripped out of a conventional torture porn movie. The weak conclusion renders the creepy build-up moot, which is a shame considering the excellence of Eliot Rockett's cinematography and the charm of Jocelin Donahue's believable performance.

At the very least, The House of the Devil is an ideal chance to indulge in some retro horror atmosphere. If you didn't know better, you could easily believe that it came from the vaults of classic terror, which only furthers the disappointment of West's slipshod script. You may enjoy the film somewhat in the moment, but when it ends you'll shrug, let out a resounding "meh", and never feel inclined to watch it again.

5.1/10

"Parents always lie to their children, to prepare them for the way they'll be treated later by the government."

Taken as a typical, run-of-the-mill action film, Maximum Risk is just barely serviceable. It cannot be considered a classic Jean-Claude Van Damme vehicle, though - the likes of Bloodsport and Kickboxer have that distinction, as they effectively showcase the star's outstanding fighting skills. For Maximum Risk, Van Damme was given too much plot-related stuff to handle and too many guns to shoot, denying him sufficient opportunities to do the inhuman splits and kick-ass fight moves which made him famous in the first place. For what it is, Maximum Risk does deliver lots of action, yet it's a very workmanlike effort with limited appeal. Outside of its moderately enjoyable action scenes, the picture is completely empty, emotionless and derivative, and the material in between the shootouts is exceedingly banal.

In France, police officer Alain Moreau (Van Damme) is rattled when the dead body of his identical twin brother Mikhail (also played by Van Damme) is found. Alain never knew his twin existed, as they'd been separated at an early age. Intrigued, Alain begins following the clues surrounding his brother's death, leading to him travelling to New York City where he inherits Mikhail's problems and meets his twin's beautiful girlfriend Alex (Henstridge). As it turns out, Mikhail was an enforcer for the Russian mafia, and became a target after accumulating damning evidence about corrupt FBI agents. With several parties wanting Alain dead, he and Alex set out to bring justice to those who killed Mikhail.

Larry Ferguson's script is littered with clichés (including the token love interest, corrupt FBI guys, etc), and the dialogue is both flat and lifeless. Ill-advisedly, the plot actually grows rather complex as it progresses, but Ferguson is not nearly creative enough to pull off promising plot twists or devise engaging complications. By the time the film reaches its final half an hour, it almost looks as if neither Ferguson nor Van Damme's Alain can quite figure out how everything is going to be resolved. It probably goes without saying, but Maximum Risk utterly fails in terms of character and humanity as well. Alain is a dimensionless killer lacking in personality, Alex is a bland cardboard cut-out on hand to appeal to male libido, and everyone else is a simple plot pawn given the bare minimum of development. You'll have no emotional investment in these boring people.

Maximum Risk contains all of the usual action staples including shootouts, foot chases, car chases and fisticuffs, but none of it is particularly inspiring or memorable, and nothing seems to have been assembled with much passion. Chinese action director Ringo Lam made his American debut with this film, but this is another classic case of a filmmaker relinquishing his integrity upon entering Hollywood. Pacing is not a strong suit, as Maximum Risk has a tough time maintaining interest whenever the gun barrels cool off (even the obligatory sex scene underwhelms). And there's a reason why Van Damme has never been celebrated for his thespian skills; he's often wooden and uninteresting. Unfortunately, Maximum Risk spotlights a typical Van Damme performance; he clearly phoned this one in for the paycheque. When the Mussels from Brussels attempts to shift into emotional territory, the results are more laughable than affecting. The villains here are also hopelessly forgettable and fail to intimidate, which is unforgiveable for an action movie.

In a nutshell, Maximum Risk is one of those motion pictures you forget not long after watching it. It's serviceable in the moment to an extent, yet it's entirely unremarkable, and nothing in the movie sticks out as memorable or outstanding. Action junkies and Van Damme fans may have some fun with this half-hearted effort, but others need not apply.

4.8/10

"What you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"

If Roland Emmerich or Michael Bay took charge of 2002's Signs, they would have delivered a brainless action ride involving a cast of stereotypes battling a conventional alien enemy. Under the guidance of writer-director M. Night Shyamalan, however, Signs is anything but conventional or dumb. Eschewing a blockbuster approach, Shyamalan uses the possibility that we are not alone in the universe as the foundation for an engaging character drama with messages about religious beliefs and faith. It is essentially the low-key flipside to Independence Day, and the film's proceedings are probably closer to what the experience of an alien invasion would be like for most families around the globe. Moreover, Signs is one of the most effectively bone-chilling motion pictures of the noughties - a science fiction horror picture in the classical Hitchcockian mould where less is more.

Set in a small Pennsylvania farming community, the story concerns former reverend Graham Hess (Mel Gibson). After tragically losing his wife, Colleen (Patricia Kalember), in a tragic car accident, Graham no longer has faith and is left to raise his two kids, Morgan (Rory Culkin) and Bo (Abigail Breslin), with the help of his brother, Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix). One morning, the family awakens to find chilling crop circles in their cornfield. While Graham and local police officer Caroline (Cherry Jones) are willing to dismiss the occurrence as the work of pranksters, similar crop signs begin appearing across the planet at a rapid rate. As the phenomenon grips the world and consumes Graham's family, strange events continue to transpire, supporting the nerve-jangling notion that extraterrestrials may have arrived on Earth to stage an attack.

Shyamalan has a gift for careful pacing and precise camerawork, and Signs demonstrates both qualities. Each frame is meticulously composed and visually interesting, and the narrative shifts forward at an unhurried but enthralling pace. The movie is a tad slow by design, and it is directly because of this slow build that Signs is so terrifying since Shyamalan lulls us into a false sense of security. Shyamalan is a master of suspense and tension, as we mostly see ominous shadows, silhouettes or limbs throughout the film, making the big reveal even more of a spine-chilling moment. Indeed, a scene in which Merrill witnesses news footage of one of the aliens is a nerve-shredding "shit your pants" moment, and Merrill's gaping response of terror is contagious. Laudably, Shyamalan accomplishes goosebump-inducing scares like these without requiring blood or gore. James Newton Howard's pitch-perfect original score also deserves praise. The compositions are so simple and low-key, yet that is precisely why they work to such an unsettling extent.

Another key strength of Signs is its sense of humanity. Shyamalan's reputation as a filmmaker is imperfect, but at the height of his powers here, he can scare you one minute and make you cry the next without feeling manipulative. For instance, a late scene involving the characters sitting at a dinner table, believing that the end is near, becomes almost too poignant to bear, thanks to the performances and the dialogue instead of heavy music. Later, following an extremely intense scene, Shyamalan cuts to a flashback illuminating the affecting events on the night when Graham's wife was killed. It's a low-key, dialogue-driven scene, yet it is emotionally fatiguing. Additionally, an underlying sense of humour prevents the movie from becoming serious to a drab extent. If there's a problem with Signs, the digital effects are a tad below par and do not entirely hold up. The alien design is brilliant, but the CGI giving them life is iffy, and one scene towards the end loses some of its effectiveness due to this. While the digital aliens aren't terrible per se, they are too obvious, making them feel out of place in a film otherwise concerned with patience and restraint.

Say whatever you will about Mel Gibson's controversial personal life, but you cannot deny his talent as a performer. Signs spotlights one of Gibson's best and most nuanced performances to date - he looks 100% focused in every frame, and there's never a line or a moment exhibiting any degree of artificiality. Gibson also carries a believable, effortless rapport with Joaquin Phoenix, who's just as impressive as Merrill. Many years separate Gibson and Phoenix, yet buying them as brothers is easy. Against all odds, even the child actors are excellent here - Rory Culkin and a pre-stardom Abigail Breslin (who was five years old at the time of filming) are exquisite. Shyamalan's strength with actors is his ability to strip the Hollywood out of them. Thus, the performances here are not about showboating or Oscar-baiting - instead, the actors all seem real.

Shyamalan is renowned for twist endings, but Signs does not strictly adhere to this trademark. While the climax brings about a revelation, it's not a twist - instead, the ending ingeniously ties together several earlier plot points in an unexpected way that strengthens the whole story's reason for occurring. With this thoughtfulness in the screenplay, Signs is not disposable or forgettable. It's just a bonus that this enthralling film will creep the living hell out of you and coax screams of terror out of the most jaded filmgoer. Without a doubt, Signs is an instant classic with infinite replay value.

9.1/10

"I'm just a regular guy. It makes me sick to see people... who don't have what I've got. Knowing that they have qualities, too. Much more than I do! It's not my fault if I was cut out to be a star. I asked for it. I asked for it, really believed in it. When you're 13, you believe in your dream. Well it came true for me. But I still ask myself today what I've done on this Earth. Nothing! I've done nothing!"

JCVD is essentially Being John Malkovich meets Dog Day Afternoon. It's a stylish heist thriller in a meta-filmmaking wrapper as well as a heartfelt, soul-searching drama that asks us to consider Jean-Claude Van Damme as more than just a dumb hunk of muscle. Back in the '80s and '90s, Van Damme was one of the most reliable action heroes out there, but he soon dropped out of the spotlight and ended up in straight-to-video purgatory. After so many horrible Van Damme movies in recent years, JCVD is a breathe of fresh air. This is easily the star's best movie in over a decade, and it doesn't even feature Van Dammage playing a fictional action hero - instead, he plays a thinly fictionalised version of himself, which (ironically) may prove to be the greatest role of his career.

The Jean-Claude Van Damme at the centre of this story is not a popular, rich action star but rather a washed-up, past-his-prime actor unable to land any decent gigs anymore. Pushing 50, he just lost a custody battle with one of his former wives, and his financial situation is terrible. Trying to get his life back together, Van Damme returns to his hometown in Belgium where he's still recognised as an icon. Unfortunately, during a banking errand he walks right into a robbery in progress, and the local authorities mistake Van Damme as the ringleader of the robbers. As the situation intensifies, Van Damme reflects upon his life and ponders his mistakes, and a dichotomy emerges between his on-screen hero persona and who he is in the real world.

JCVD begins with an amazing long take which tracks Van Damme as he does the type of things he got famous for: killing bad guys, recuing people and doing roundhouse kicks. But this opening sequence flaunts the only action contained within JCVD. One may think that the plot sounds like an ideal setup for a typical Van Damme actioner in which he saves the day and becomes the hero, but JCVD is not your typical Van Damme vehicle - it's not even an action movie at all. Instead, writer-director Mabrouk El Mechri has crafted a character study that observes Van Damme dealing with the types of situations he handles in movies all the time. The concept works remarkably well, and not just as a gimmick or a joke. It does work as a comedy too, though - Van Damme is remarkably game here, and it's clear that he has a sense of humour about himself due to the script's self-referential material (we learn that Van Damme loses a movie role to Steven Seagal, who secured the part by agreeing to cut off his ponytail).

More than anything else, Mabrouk El Mechri's movie seeks to humanise the iconic Van Damme. The film acknowledges the man's personal and professional blunders, yet we're reminded that behind the troubled movie star is a multifaceted human who makes mistakes, just like all of us. As the hostage storyline plays out, flashbacks illuminate recent events in Van Damme's life that paint an affecting portrait of the nature of fame. Reinforcing these themes and messages is a single shot towards the climax that observes Van Damme delivering a stunning direct-to-camera soliloquy in which he bares his soul and laments his shortcomings. While talking, he's lifted above the movie's set until there are studio lights behind him, boldly breaking the fourth wall and tearing down all protective facades to reinforce that Van Damme's words are honest and frank rather than part of a fictional universe. Instead of highlighting how delusional Van Damme has been, JCVD asks us to sympathise with this broken man and root for him to get his life back in order.

Along with the other B-movie action stars like Chuck Norris and Steven Seagal, Jean-Claude Van Damme's acting has always been ridiculed as laughable and wooden. He has starred in countless movies, but the man has never shown any actual acting talent; instead, he's the same one-note hero all the time. In JCVD, on the other hand, Van Damme's performance is a revelation. Clearly more comfortable speaking in his native tongue, he's believable, sympathetic and surprisingly charismatic here, doing far more than just playing a surface-level version of himself. Who would've thought that the Mussels from Brussels' best acting performance would be as himself?

On top of everything, JCVD is a stylish-looking movie - El Mechri and cinematographer Pierre-Yves Bastard (his real name, I swear!) are gifted visual stylists, and they gave the film a distinctive look of bleached-out colours. The flick's only real problem is that the story starts to run out of steam by the second half, and a few scenes set inside the post office grow a tad tedious. This aside, JCVD is an excellent movie, and it should be seen if for no other reason than it contains Jean-Claude Van Damme's most nuanced and powerful performance to date.

8.2/10

"I've got to try and fix this. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

American remakes of foreign films are almost always something to be dreaded, but Contraband is a surprising exception to the rule. Perhaps this is because the movie was directed and produced by Baltasar Kormákur, who starred in and produced the Icelandic flick Reykjavik-Rotterdam on which Contraband is based. More cynical filmgoers may be unimpressed by this gritty little crime-thriller since it's not exactly original or groundbreaking, yet Contraband is satisfying entertainment if you can suspend your pretensions. Its production values are surprisingly solid for such a low-budget film and the storytelling is both involving and gripping, though the script could've used a few more revisions before reaching the production stage.

Formerly a professional career smuggler, Chris Farraday (Wahlberg) chose to abandon the life of a criminal in order to raise his two children with loving wife Kate (Beckinsale) and make an honest living. Chris' serene life is threatened, though, when Kate's idiotic little brother Andy (Jones) botches an expensive cocaine smuggling operation for ruthless drug lord Tim Briggs (Ribisi), who now wants blood. Realising that his family will not be safe until the debt is paid, Chris is forced back into his former line of work, cooking up a money counterfeiting scheme which requires boat passage to Panama. Chris reunites with his former associates to pull off the heist, but nothing goes according to plan.

You cannot accuse writer Aaron Guzikowski of not paying enough attention to the plot here. Standard-issue heist action-thrillers are usually flimsy in terms of story, yet Contraband positively excels - it offers up plenty of unexpected plot twists and turns. The heist should be so simple, yet things keep going wrong and the stakes are continually upped, which is why this film is so engaging. Contraband's key pratfall, however, is that Kate is too much of a clichéd, vulnerable damsel in distress. It would have been more interesting if Kate was Chris' equal; if she encouraged Chris to do the job to save Andy rather than just issuing typical warnings and maintaining that there must be "another way" without offering suggestions. Hell, it would've been even better if Kate played a role in the heist herself. Furthermore, Tim's crime racket is not especially intimidating - Tim's residence (where his daughter lives) appears to be known by everyone, and there don't appear to be many enforcers (none of which guard Tim's house). Chris' friends could have obliterated Tim's syndicate without breaking a sweat, or even just assassinated Tim.

Contraband looks astonishingly assured for a $25 million production, and it's probably thanks to the low budget that the film feels so authentic since it had the freedom to be dark and edgy. Lacking the sugar-coated gloss of an expensive PG-13 blockbuster, the world of crime depicted here is grimy and raw - there's blood, the characters are given realistic leeway to swear, and you truly get the feeling that nobody is safe. Kormákur was right at home with this material - a shootout between criminals and law enforcers in Panama is nail-bitingly tense, and it's impossible to take your eyes away from the screen as the film barrels towards its edge-of-your-seat conclusion. Admittedly, cinematographer Barry Ackroyd (Green Zone, The Hurt Locker) adopted a dreaded shaky-cam routine here, yet it actually works to the film's benefit; the gritty handheld style suits the material. Topping this off, there are a few nice song choices from time to time, and Clinton Shorter's score is top-drawer.

Mark Wahlberg can play roles like this in his sleep. To his credit, though, he didn't actually phone this one in or sleepwalk through the film for the paycheque - he seems fully immersed in the material, and the intensity he brings to the role of Chris is spot-on. Alongside him, Ben Foster and Kate Beckinsale also bring their A game to the roles of Sebastian and Kate (respectively), but it's Giovanni Ribisi who absolutely steals the show as Tim. Ribisi is delightfully hammy and over-the-top, and he clearly had an utter blast playing such a callous kingpin. Sure, Ribisi's performance borders on cartoonish, but he's a pleasure to watch.

To be sure, Contraband has room for improvement, but it delivers proverbial thrills in a satisfying fashion. This is a fun, exciting little thriller with several exhilarating action sequences, and it kept this reviewer rapt for its two-hour duration. Nevertheless, Contraband has little staying power - it's pretty shallow, and it will probably be long forgotten by the end of 2012.

7.1/10

"It's hard to explain, because it's not just a dream. It's a feeling."

Take Shelter is further proof that independent motion pictures are one of the most reliable sources of excellence in today's unstable cinematic climate. Rather than an in-your-face thriller reliant on big special effects, Take Shelter is a quietly involving, harrowing drama with a lot on its mind. The movie meditates on the nature of dreams and faith, explores the way that fear, anger and paranoia can effect one's mental health, magnificently captures today's shaky economic conditions, and even has a few things to say about climate change. Added to this, writer-director Jeff Nichols is a superlative storyteller, and the film spotlights an exceptional leading performance courtesy of Michael Shannon.

Set in the Midwest, construction worker Curtis (Shannon) is largely living the American dream - he has a steady job, and he's fathering a daughter (Stewart) with his beautiful, loving wife Samantha (Chastain). However, Curtis begins enduring apocalyptic dreams of storms, tornadoes and faceless strangers trying to abduct his daughter. As these dreams/visions start seeping into his daytime activities, Curtis grows unsure as to whether he's slowly going mad or having genuine premonitions. While secretly seeking medical help, Curtis also becomes obsessed with the storm shelter in his backyard, spending thousands of dollars the family doesn't even have to expand and improve it. With Curtis' actions growing more erratic, he starts to alienate his family and friends. Nevertheless, Curtis is determined to work to prevent the catastrophic doomsday scenarios brewing inside of his mind.

At face value, Take Shelter seems like a psychological thriller with disaster film overtones, yet the movie is far more substantive and thoughtful - it's predominantly a portrait of developing madness which contains a few terrifying disaster theatrics to assist this agenda. In a sense, Nichols' movie has a certain M. Night Shyamalan quality to it, as it possesses the same cadence and spirit of something like 2002's Signs. Not to mention, Nichols' storytelling relies on mounting intensity and the unpredictability of coming events. Perhaps what's most interesting about Take Shelter is that it's not exactly about whether or not Curtis is mad, but rather about how Curtis must come to terms with what's happening to him.

From minute one, Nichols places us into the head of Curtis, allowing us to experience his chilling visions alongside the confused protagonist. We can understand the anxiety that Curtis endures as he receives scorn and scowling from the community while working to do what he believes is right, no matter the cost (financial or otherwise). Also commendable is the script's treatment of Curtis - he's not just a crazy person but a genuinely scared and confused family man. Thus, he tries to hide his problems from his wife and secretively seeks help (he even visits his mother who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at his age, and borrows a book about mental illness from the library) as he works on the tornado shelter to address every possible meaning behind his harrowing dreams. Take Shelter is, indeed, a terrific demonstration of a character-driven narrative.

It may be a low-budget indie, but Take Shelter possesses utterly gorgeous visuals. Adam Stone's cinematography skilfully captures the beautiful natural landscapes and the dream sequences are magnificently atmospheric, with seamless digital effects resulting in a number of surreal, scary images that'll remain embedded in your mind for days. Also effective is David Wingo's low-key score; it's well-judged and effective, and it perfectly matches the happenings on-screen. However, while Nichols' direction for the most part makes for compelling viewing, the movie at times feels overdrawn. For instance, an extended scene of Samantha pleading with Curtis in the tornado shelter is prolonged to melodramatic proportions, and will probably leave you confused rather than intrigued about what will happen next.

Michael Shannon received an Oscar nomination for his performance in Revolutionary Road, and is highly regarded for his work on Boardwalk Empire. Believe it: Shannon deserves to be a leading man, as his performance here is remarkable from top to bottom. He's the kind of actor able to express pages of dialogue with merely a look, and convey subtle changes in mood and awareness in a way that veteran actors can only dream of. Best of all, Shannon gives Curtis genuine three-dimensionality. There's never a moment in the film in which Shannon feels false or unbelievable, and the fact that he didn't earn an Oscar nomination is one of the worst oversights in recent memory. Likewise, Jessica Chastain (who received an Oscar nomination for The Help) is fantastic as Samantha. Not just a one-note harpy constantly yelling at her husband, Chastain plays the role as someone who loves Curtis and is willing to adapt to the worst of conditions. The steadiness she emanates serves to make Curtis look all the more erratic.

Take Shelter would've achieved dizzying heights of excellence if it were a tad tauter, but it's hard to hold too much against this remarkable film. It's full of striking imagery, and the stunning visuals are mixed with provocative themes. As the icing on top, it winds down with an ambiguous ending that defies expectation and is destined to keep movie-goers talking for a long time to come. Let the interpretations and film scholar essay writing commence...

8.5/10