Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"We are confronted with an unprecedented situation: two people have died while connected to their surrogates."

Sometimes there's nothing better than a science fiction thriller supported by an exciting premise that resonates with the present. But there's nothing worse than watching an exciting premise being squandered - and this is precisely the fate of 2009's Surrogates. Adapted from the 2006 graphic novel by Robert Venditti and Brett Weldele, this is a film that wastes a fascinating concept by inserting a generic conspiracy plot that's as nonsensical as it is hard to follow. Director Jonathan Mostow's enthralling visual scheme is not enough to compensate for the cliché-ridden script.

A rapid-fire opening credits montage reveals the technological advances leading to the "now" of the story, and explains how surrogates came to be. Most of the population of the world are now plugged into these robotic avatars (which are more or less just ideal representations of the user) and can go about their daily activities without fearing death from accidents, diseases or any other risks associated with the contemporary world. The crime rate has dropped sharply as a result, and the streets are filled with attractive people (of course there's the inevitable gag of a disgustingly obese man walking the streets as a smokin' hot female surrogate). Those who reject the surrogate culture have been marginalised and now live in ghettoised civilisations.
Set in the not-too-distant future, the film picks up when there's an anomaly in technological paradise: someone has developed a weapon which can kill a user through their surrogate (an action thought to be impossible). When the son of the man who invented the surrogates is murdered in this fashion, FBI Special Agents Greer (Willis) and Peters (Mitchell) begin investigating.

What follows is a twisty, heavily clichéd whodunit tale tagged with a predictable ending. The movie simply jumps from turn to turn in a programmed manner and feels underdone at 85 minutes; suggesting that studio interference was a problem, and the movie was trimmed heavily on its way to cinemas. Surrogates has been pared down to the bare essentials of action and whodunit without a lot of room to breathe, which is highlighted uncomfortably by the clichéd subplot concerning the relationship between Greer and his wife Maggie (Pike). It's a narrative thread that's integral to the overall story, but the melodramatic fragments are all that remain. These flaws notwithstanding, the story is at least delivered at a brisk pace. The narrative problems are brought to the fore only in hindsight - if nothing else, the film gets credit for its entertainment value.

Surrogates can be praised for its riveting visuals. Jonathan Mostow's direction is crisp and the special effects are spectacular. It's a fascinating world that's been created here, with the surrogates being given a plastic-like sheen that differentiates them from the "meat bags" who refuse to plug into the system. However the action sequences are severely undercut by one factor: the PG-13 rating. All the violent money shots are placed off camera and the violence is frustratingly tame. Luckily, though, the action is not marred by quick cutting or indecipherable shaky cam. Mostow's intention was clearly to entertain, and in that regard the director has crafted a perfectly serviceable, paint-by-numbers thriller. Unfortunately, though, the high-octane blips are just that - blips. It's admirable that the film aspires to examine deeper issues, but the script by Michael Ferris and John D. Brancato (the guys who penned Catwoman) is lacking. The filmmakers prioritise pacing over content, when a deeper, longer movie should have been produced.

The script is also riddled with holes. Surrogates would surely cost a great deal, so how would the poor or the unemployed or even the petty street criminals be able to pay for a surrogate and have their protection ensured? It's also hard to believe that virtually everyone on the planet would want to own a surrogate. Is real life truly that awful that we could all consider living life as a robot? There are other aspects which aren't touched upon. Can one eat and drink while using their surrogate? How would sex work? Furthermore, how would reproduction work? The robotic surrogates obviously wouldn't be able to give birth, and everyone seems to want to remain inside their surrogate and avoid contact with actual humans, so how the hell would more generations of people be born? The premise of Surrogates is bursting with narrative possibilities and interesting questions the movie simply isn't interested in addressing.

Bruce Willis starring in a movie is always a good thing. He's the John Wayne or Clint Eastwood of this generation: even if the movie stinks, Willis' screen presence makes it more tolerable and worthwhile. Playing the familiar movie policeman role who must risk the loyalty of his family and colleagues to uncover the truth, Willis does an exemplary job. Once his character of Greer can no longer use his surrogate, he's forced to hit the streets in the flesh. From there the film relies on his performance to allow viewers to experience Greer's system shock of facing surrogate land as a real person and realising just how ridiculous the situation has become. Instead of using flashy camera techniques to illustrate the changing perspective, Mostow focuses squarely on Willis' emotional & physical performance - the actor had to convey the central theme of the movie through his performance, and he achieves this, which is utterly extraordinary.

The filmmakers do a great job of making Bruce Willis look young and handsome. That said, the wig he wears is awful. It's a blessing that Greer breaks from his surrogate about one third into the movie. Most of the supporting cast is shoved to the side due to the brief running time. Radha Mitchell's character initially seems less predestined towards two-dimensionality, but there's no room in the tired murder plot for any back-story or solid characterisation. Rosamund Pike does what she can with the thankless role of Greer's wife, while Ving Rhames makes a strong impression as the leader of the resistance against the surrogates. James Cromwell's role is minor, but nevertheless his performance is assured.

It's clear that the creative team behind Surrogates wanted to deliver an astonishing and worthwhile sci-fi actioner. But the way the film addresses a number of meaningful issues fails to make much of an impact. While it's an enjoyable movie thanks to some quality action, and while it does achieve its goals on a very basic level, the ingenious premise is pushed aside too soon in favour of formula.

6.1/10

"From the Wayan Brothers comes the most outrageous movie of the year," the trailer for Dance Flick promised. In one sense, this is correct - it's an outage that precious reels of celluloid were imprinted with this lazy, cheap, dire, tedious, obnoxious and desperate attempt to induce laugher. And that's just a small selection of disparaging adjectives which can be applied to this tripe.

Dance Flick is just another in the long line of excruciating spoof films begat by the Scary Movie series. Said franchise also inadvertently unleashed upon the world the writer-director team of Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer, and their creations (Epic Movie, Date Movie, Meet the Spartans, Disaster Movie) somehow managed to earn a fortune at the box office while also being universally despised. These recent spoof "comedies" forget one very crucial thing about the genre: they forget to actually be funny. They're miles away from the belly-laugh miracles of the Airplane! and Naked Gun era. Dance Flick is merely a barrage of pointless pop culture references, ghastly stereotypes and overt spoofing - all of which unite to deter laughter. The film was created by the Wayans, and while they weren't responsible for many of the other dire parodies of recent years, you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise.

Less a baseline story than a platform on which to showcase a series of unfunny, disparate sketches, this is a spoof of (logically) every dance film imaginable (running the gamut from Fame to Step Up 2 The Streets). While there are plenty of movies that fit this criterion, Dance Flick is inexplicably focused on 2001's Save the Last Dance. It adapts that particular movie's plot almost scene-for-scene, probably because the filmmakers couldn't be bothered coming up with something more creative on their own.
To an extent, there is a plot (however paltry). It concerns a white, naïve ex-dancer named Megan (Bush) who moves in with her father (Elliot) after her mother dies in a car accident. She hooks up with black street dancer Thomas (Wayans Jr.) and together they aim to compete in a local contest to scoop some much-needed cash. You see, Thomas needs money to pay larger-than-life gangster Sugar Bear (Grier) - who looks like a cross between Fat Bastard and Mr. Creosote.

As with other recent spoofs, the satirical elements of Dance Flick aren't restricted to dance films. One of the most unbearable failed gags of the movie comes at the expense of Twilight. There are also parodies of Black Snake Moan, Catwoman (WTF?!) and even Little Miss Sunshine merely to get the film up to its barely feature-length runtime. The puerile attempts to raise laughs lack subtlety, skilful direction or any degree of intelligence. Instead, there's a junior version of Ray Charles (with his blindness cruelly used as a launching pad for numerous "comedic" mishaps) and a dance instructor named Ms. Cameltoé (Sedaris). Guess what? Yep, Ms. Cameltoé has a noticeably large vagina...and it even beatboxes!

Dance Flick also contains a large variety of potty jokes, racial jokes and hackneyed gags (for instance the music at one stage overwhelms a character who's speaking, so he turns to the orchestra and tells them to quiet down). All this pushes the film's PG-13 rating to the very brink. The point is not that this stuff is offensive, but that it's so insufferably terrible. Exposition and random skits and mashed together willy-nilly with no concern for making a coherent motion picture, and the end result looks and feels like what one would expect from a bunch of kids screwing around with a camera during a family reunion (considering the number of Wayans involved, this could actually be the case here). There's an unexpected amount of energy here (particularly during the dance numbers), but this cannot excuse the tragic deficiency of laughs and the fact that the whole thing is just plain gruelling.

Recently, so many genre parody movies have been made that they no longer carry a novelty factor, making Dance Flick tedious and familiar. This is the very definition of critic-proof - if you want to view this bottom-feeding cash-grab that caters to the lowest common denominator, you've already made up your mind and no amount of reviews will persuade you otherwise. For those of you who adored Disaster Movie or Meet the Spartans, you're welcome to indulge in this tosh...but please keep it away from the rest of us. You know, some of the worst dance movies actually exist as self-parodies, so what the fuck is the point of parodying them anyway???

1.5/10

"Since they're guinea pigs, why don't you put them where they belong"

Yet again, the folks at Disney have given their Talking Animal Movie Randomiser (™) a spin, and this time it's landed on the action-comedy G-Force - a technically impressive blend of live action and CGI about a gaggle of superspy guinea pigs in Mission: Impossible mode. Unfortunately, this is a film which relies so heavily on its central conceit that it neglects everything else. If the talking rodents were removed from the equation, G-Force would be an exceedingly generic spy adventure riddled with holes - and this is hardly a surprise, given that the screenplay was written by the husband-and-wife team of Cormac and Marianne Wibberley, who also penned Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle and Bad Boys II. This is a Jerry Bruckheimer movie as well, so this sort of thing is standard operating procedure for him.

As one would expect, the protagonists of G-Force are the rodents that constitute the titular group: 3 guinea pigs (Rockwell, Cruz, Morgan) and a high-tech mole (Cage). There's also a housefly on the team who does surveillance. (Believe it or not, not only can this fly understand English, but it has also surpassed its two-week lifespan! Amazing!) The human who heads this elite squad is Ben (Galifianakis), along with his assistant Marcie (Garner). While trying to uncover the insidious plan of electronics magnate Leonard Saber (Nighy), the G-Force is shut down following an unauthorised operation to get evidence. (Oh, that old plot point?) Eventually the rodents end up in a pet store where they're held for adoption, but wish to escape from captivity and take down Saber. From there it's Mission: Impossible meets Toy Story meets Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.

G-Force clearly feels the urge to present viewers with a sympathetic portrayal of talking animals when potential viewers, both young and old, would rather witness the heroes in all stages of miniature combat and furry teamwork instead. It's quite easy to be taken during the introductory sequences of the film. However, beyond this (possibly in a page count panic), the writers insist on an emotional conflict and heavy exposition, sticking to every hoary screenwriting template that submerges the heroes in doubt so a false sense of triumph can be concocted. The typical "learn to have faith in yourself" plot point eventually pops up out of no-where, and is resolved so quickly that it feels hastily thrown in simply because a clueless producer insisted on such a moment. This all kills the momentum of the picture. It's a mystery as to why movies can't take a page from Pixar, and learn how to have it both ways - to develop characters terrifically, while entertaining and gaining momentum along the way.

The pay-off of the whole story is an action sequence featuring a giant robot comprised of many small appliances. This whole set-piece just seems like a knee-jerk reaction to Transformers and an acknowledgement of the sequel. The clueless producers probably realised how much young boys love watching robots fighting, and figured it'd also belong in a movie about talking guinea pigs. G-Force is backed by a script that travels on autopilot; assuming that an assortment of fart jokes, cheesy one-liners and pop culture references will appease viewers of all ages. There are a few amusing moments, but every good punchline is countered by limp gags (for instance yuks about Facebook and Paris Hilton)... G-Force is just not an overly funny movie.

First-time director Hoyt Yeatman has enjoyed a long career as a special effects mastermind. He has presided over some of Hollywood's biggest blockbusters, ranging from Star Trek: The Motion Picture to Armageddon (he even earned an Academy Award for his work on James Cameron's The Abyss). His reward for all these efforts is the chance to finally helm a feature film of his own...in the form of G-Force. It's logical for Yeatman to be given CG-intensive material for his directorial debut, but he seems too distracted by the technical angle that he doesn't bother with decent storytelling. His misplaced attentions result in some truly incredible CGI work - the critters look extraordinarily realistic (only a few notches below photorealistic, in fact), and the faux Transformer is as impressive as anything that stomped around in Michael Bay's movies. When G-Force is locked in adventure mode, it's an unexpected charmer. The action set-pieces do have an impressive zing to them, backed by Trevor Rabin's fantastic score. But wouldn't it have been nice if such attention was given to the script & story, too? To an extent, the generic nature may be intentional - it's amusing to see action movie clichés re-enacted by guinea pigs. But once the novelty wears off, it's just an ordinary, by-the-numbers spy caper. And due to an action shortage, it's not fun enough.

The most depressing blow is the casting of Zach Galifianakis as the G-Force's handler. The bushy-bearded comedian broke out into mainstream cinema with 2009's surprise hit The Hangover in which he played a uniquely hilarious character. In G-Force, Galifianakis plays a cookie-cutter role; essentially the straight man to a trio of wisecracking guinea pigs. All the human actors - including Kellie Garner, Will Arnett and Billy Nighy - are mere props, and one wonders if the movie might've worked better if their characters were animated instead. The voice work is admittedly better than expected. Nicolas Cage clearly relished the opportunity to have fun with a goofy mole voice. The rest of the voice actors - Sam Rockwell as the leader of the group, Jon Favreau as a chubby, flatulent guinea pig, Steve Buscemi as a vicious hamster, Penélope Cruz as the obligatory female of the team, and Tracey Morgan as a wisecracking guinea pig operative - place forth solid work. Fairly forgettable, but not woeful.

G-Force is a halfway decent action-comedy. It simply doesn't trust itself enough to run carefree and enjoy the wacky premise...it's instead packed with achingly dull scripting and exposition that eats up most of the film. The special effects are very impressive of course, but the filmmakers should have understood that even with great animation, a lousy story is still a lousy story. Like all high profile summer releases, G-Force targets a particular audience and it will undoubtedly please them - after all it's just pleasant, inoffensive entertainment - but it's also pointless and instantly forgettable.

4.8/10

"We've been living above an entire world, and we didn't even know it!"

As most movie-goers should be aware of, dinosaurs predated the mammals of the Ice Age series by millions of years. Thus, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs (the third instalment of the now 7-year-old computer-animated franchise) has a few problems to overcome in order to justify the scaly and the furry sharing the screen. To solve this conundrum, the committee of writers have dug deep into the classic tomes of science fiction (such as the works of Jules Verne and Edgar Rice Burroughs) to conceive an idea so ludicrous - an entire world existing beneath the icy ground of the Pleistocene Epoch - that it very nearly works. Of course, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs is a children's cartoon, and expecting it to be paleontologically accurate is rather imprudent. Nevertheless, if this small detail keeps coming to mind during the movie, it may be an indication that Fox has gone to the well one too many times with this franchise. Dawn of the Dinosaurs is a charming film, but it's more of an agreeable television event than a majestic animated feature.

Following the events of Ice Age: The Meltdown, Manny (Romano) and Ellie (Latifah) - the last two woolly mammoths on the planet - are expecting their first child. However the prospective new arrival has put a strain on the gang; sabre-toothed tiger Diego (Leary) fears domesticity will cause him to lose more of his edge as a hunter, while Sid the sloth (Leguizamo) realises the family dynamic could lead to his eventual exclusion. Depressed, Sid wishes for a family of his own, and stumbles upon a trio of dinosaur eggs that contain Tyrannosaurs Rexes which he decides to adopt. But once they hatch, their perturbed mother soon shows up to seize them...and takes Sid as well. So with Sid taken captive by a dinosaur who takes him to a lost world of dinosaurs under the ice, it's up to his motley group of mammal pals to rescue him - with a crazed weasel named Buck (Pegg) giving them a helping hand along the way.

Unfortunately, the story just feels like a thinly-veiled excuse to incorporate dinosaurs (presumably because they're popular with little boys). For the most part, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs plays out like a demo for the video game as it careens from one improbable action situation to the next. Mastering these sorts of challenges may be fun in an interactive video game, but they're dull and out-of-place in a movie. To the credit of the filmmakers, though, the picture doesn't strain itself to find a higher purpose, and the absence of responsibility permits the movie to have a bit of fun. The directorial duo of Carlos Saldanha and Mike Thurmeier therefore hand Dawn of the Dinosaurs over to the colourful locales, dangerous predators and the adorable infant dinosaur shenanigans. A sense of freshness is encouraged with the introduction of Buck; a comedic hunter with a leaf eye-patch who's been lurking solo in the lost world underneath the ice for several years. Buck is a splendid, off-the-wall sidekick who's integral to the narrative and pitched to entertain (instead of irritate), with Simon Pegg elevating the material with his endearing rendition of the character.

And of course, crowd favourite Scrat ("voiced" by series head-honcho Chris Wedge) shows up periodically throughout the film to liven things up. The buck-toothed, squirrel-like critter's incessant love for his acorn is continually put to the test; more so when he crosses paths with the femme-fatale of his species, affectionately known as Scrattè (Disher), who's rather a tough nut to crack. Their physical tussles over the acorn (which lead to them falling in love) provide welcome relief from the story proper, and remind us that well-executed slapstick comedy is always enjoyable. The Scrat/Scrattè interactions frankly make the rest of the movie look rather stale.

The previous Ice Age films maintained a consistent cleverness, and had only minimal reliance on television-grade jokes. But there's an overriding laziness haunting Dawn of the Dinosaurs. Hearing Ray Romano bitch about married life is out-of-place in this picture, as if the audio from Romano's former television program was recycled. On top of this, the plotline resembles that of a generic sitcom episode. The humour is half-baked, and hilarious moments are only occasional. The film often resorts to bathroom humour or relating to gender differences to get a laugh (for instance, what happens when you try to "milk" a male cow?). Most of the jokes couldn't be less relevant to what's happening as well. There's a bit of playful bantering between the characters from time to time as well as a selection of amusing vignettes, but once again these are infrequent. Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs feels like it was assembled as quickly as possible before the franchise's target audience could outgrow the infantile protagonists.

Blue Sky Studios continue to operate strongly in the shadow of Pixar and DreamWorks, but this smaller enterprise needs to improve their techniques in order to compete in the animation realm. The look of Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs is disappointing, particularly with Pixar's Up being released in the same year. While the characters themselves are well-detailed, the world in which they operate is bland and generic.

With each new release, Pixar manages to expose deep issues and still create a highly enjoyable romp that appeals to viewers young and old. Meanwhile, Fox continues to milk franchises like Ice Age, and the result is surface-level fluff. Like the previous Ice Age films, Dawn of the Dinosaurs is enjoyable, but too formulaic, and creativity is slowly decreasing (who didn't predict the '80s one-hit wonder Walk the Dinosaur being used for the soundtrack?).

6.4/10

"I need to get some fucking friends."

Over recent years, it would seem, the mainstream comedy genre has become a breeding ground for male arrested development. With American comedy embracing unadorned masculinity - in all its slovenly, sexist, drunken and often childish glory - with such gusto, it's a surprise that I Love You, Man is perhaps the first modern comedy that actually attempts to explore male bonding. For 100 minutes, this film tracks the protagonists as they sing Rush songs, hang out and give each other silly nicknames, while a shoestring plot lingers in the corner which is occasionally picked up when the rote structure calls for it. There are some amusing moments within I Love You, Man, but it's mostly forgettable, not to mention so formulaic that a viewer will be able to figure out what's coming next even before the film's midpoint.

The story concerns straight-laced realtor Peter Klaven (Rudd) who, at the beginning of the movie, becomes engaged to his girlfriend Zooey (Jones). All seems fine until Zooey starts calling her best friends to tell them the great news, and it soon becomes obvious that Peter has no people to call apart from his parents. Pressed by his fiancée and family, Peter embarks on a series of "man dates" in an attempt to widen his social circle. Following a number of disastrous meetings with various flakes, Peter happens upon Sydney Fife; a part-time investment councillor and a full-time slacker. Sydney opens Peter's eyes to the world of a male best friend, offering advice on romance and a discussion outlet in the form of his self-described "man cave" (a primordial shrine to narcissistic masculinity filled with TVs, instruments, comfy chairs, and even a masturbation station). But as the two grow to be inseparable, Zooey grows concerned, especially when Sydney's influence causes Peter to question his upcoming nuptials.

The semi-love affairs between straight, immature men is the topic the film tackles, and it's fleshed out using standard Judd Apatow-style ingredients: cheerful vulgarity, good-natured charm, sexually explicit & profanity-ridden dialogue, as well as off-the-wall pop culture references. Although Judd Apatow has absolutely nothing to do with I Love You, Man, one could be forgiven for thinking he was behind it. Not only does this film contain a lot of trademark Apatow elements, it also stars two Apatow alumni (Paul Rudd and Jason Segel, both of whom appeared in 2008's Forgetting Sarah Marshall).

Director John Hamburg (who shares a screenwriting credit with Larry Levin) is fairly sly in his construction of Peter and Sydney's story. I Love You, Man cleverly repurposes the standard scenes and conflicts of modern romantic comedies, from the cute meetings to the "getting to know you" montage to the third party which may break them up (in this case, Zooey). However the movie also adheres to the well-worn tenets of the romantic comedy genre, right down to the temporarily break up and last-minute reconciliation. With the characters warmly established and an enjoyable, fluid tone bubbling wonderfully, it's borderline criminal to halt the merriment in order to wander into a formulaic rom-com bear trap. I Love You, Man is flawed in other ways; Peter's awkward verbal blunders grow tiresome, and the unfunny character Lonnie (Truglio) shows up a few too many times.

To their credit, Hamburg and Levin have created a script which manages to avoid some of the more rough-edged clichés of the genre - Jane Curtin plays Peter's mother like a regular parent instead of some over-the-top shrew, and the homosexuality of Peter's brother not reduced to swishing stereotypes. While the movie isn't exactly the side-splitting laugh riot it probably could have been in more adept hands, there are a lot of amusing details and hysterical one-liners (Sydney's observations about male behaviour are quite amusing). Hamburg's direction isn't terribly innovative, but why would one want a director intruding on a character comedy with indulgent camerawork?

Paul Rudd may be in danger of getting typecast as the goofy boyfriend type, but he's turned this sort of role into an art form. Rudd's allure is one of the film's greatest weapons; the wedding proposal that opens the film is winning and sweet, and gets us on his side from the outset. On the other side of the spectrum is Jason Segel who's also known for a certain character (the laid-back, earnest imbecile). For the film, he essentially just plays off Rudd's straight man. Segel's matter-of-fact delivery and likability makes him a great partner for Rudd. The genuine friendship between Segel and Rudd is clear in every scene, and obvious improvisation adds an additional level to their friendship. But one also gets the feeling that they're both better than this material; nothing in the movie can hold up against their brief scenes together in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Luckily, the two leads are surrounded by a full staff of comedy players. Jon Favreau is a particular highlight, whose scenes with Jaime Pressly are downright hysterical. Rashida Jones is beyond charming as Zooey, and it's clear why Peter would be so smitten with her. Also in the cast there's J.K. Simmons, Jane Curtin and Thomas Lennon (who's especially funny), to name a few.

Despite a clever premise and several laugh-aloud moments, I Love You, Man slightly underwhelms due to a story that sags a bit from overfamiliarity. Still, the accurate portrayal of male bonding and the healthy dosage of comedy makes this "bromance" worth a watch.

6.5/10

"You're not funny. You look funny, but you're not funny." [I could say the same thing to the movie]

The drama-comedy Funny People is Judd Apatow's third outing as a writer-director, and it stars both Seth Rogen and Adam Sandler. This should be a funny movie, right? Of course, the problem with expectations is they occasionally lead to disappointment - and Funny People is disappointing on numerous levels. It has been suggested that this flick is the final entry in Judd Apatow's comic trilogy about sex (2005's The 40-Year-Old Virgin), birth (2007's Knocked Up) and now death (or at least the threat of death). In this regard, the movie is a blatant attempt on Apatow's part to display maturity as a filmmaker, and the product is more of a drama (an uncomfortable one at that) than a comedy. There's one crucial hindrance with Funny People: it's neither funny nor touching - it's grim. Even Apatow and Sandler devotees will find their attention spans challenged, as the film wears out its welcome long before the excessive 150-minute runtime has elapsed.

Central to the story is a comedian named George Simmons (Sandler). After spending his career making asinine comedy movies for the masses, George has become self-absorbed and emotionally stunted. Towards the beginning of the movie, he's diagnosed with a rare blood disease. Upon learning about his impending doom, George basically just continues to indulge in his usual self-centred activities (except with a much darker attitude) rather than embarking on some form of spiritual journey or attempting to right his past wrongs. George eventually stumbles upon a makeshift comedic soul mate in the form of struggling stand-up Ira Wright (Rogen); taking the inexperienced funny man into his life for jokes and companionship.

This is, however, just one half of the narrative. George pursuing his estranged early love Laura (Mann) constitutes the other half. The notion seems to be that Funny People is a two-hander between George and Ira, but George's story eventually overwhelms Ira's. By combining what should have remained two separate stories into one movie of extreme length, a lot of potential is wasted. The relationship between Ira and George was a self-contained narrative in itself, and the first half which explores this is quite entertaining. But instead of concentrating on this narrative thread, the film pursues something more hackneyed, with George trying to reconnect with Laura while Ida is held in reserve. Exploring the deep rituals of the comedy circuit would've also made the film far more compelling.

Judd Apatow's movies (even those he produces) are frequently crippled by their needlessly long runtimes and general self-indulgence. Funny People is no different - it meanders around a number of plotlines before seemingly ending at random; aware it has exhausted its audiences' tolerance for Apatow's trademark excess. Believe it or not, the running time of Funny People exceeds the extended editions of both The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up by around 10 minutes, and there's more that could have been added. Some connective tissue appears absent (like the explanation of why Laura, who is irritated and dismissive during earlier conversations with George, agrees to see him upon learning he's dying - and it's a mystery as to how she even finds out about his condition since there's no public announcement). Much like the films of Quentin Tarantino, Funny People is a movie in desperate need of discipline.

Disappointment is imminent on the comedy front. The stand-up sequences, with their poor lighting and an air of flop-sweat, admittedly possess an air of authenticity (the actors themselves even wrote their own material, and it was all filmed in front of a live crowd). But the on-stage routines aren't funny or in the least bit memorable. In fact, some of them are excruciatingly unfunny. Pretty much the only funny parts of the entire movie were shown in the trailers (maybe 5 or 6 lines in a 2½-hour movie), none of which are genuinely hysterical. Unfortunately, too, the dialogue never crackles with any wit. Funny People is an audacious movie that provides a few entertaining moments, but as a whole it's tragically flat.

Adam Sandler as George Simmons is a stroke of genius. The actor is in top form with this low-key performance, and this is perhaps the most lived-in work of his career. Sandler has already proved he's a capable dramatic actor (Punch-Drunk Love, Reign Over Me), and he flexes these chops capably here. Suitably, the character of George Simmons is a famous comedian who has long sacrificed his edge for awful movies made purely for money. With Sandler having starred in a number of awful movies made purely for the box office returns over recent years, it's clear he's having a little fun at the expense of his own career.

As with every Apatow movie, the cast gives the film a class-reunion sensibility, which makes the film a lot more fun for them than it is for an audience. As Ira Wright, a slimmed down Seth Rogen is in familiar territory; playing a poorly-masked version of his usual self. Leslie Mann (Apatow's wife) is also in familiar territory playing Laura, though she's still endearing. As Clarke, Laura's Australian husband, Eric Bana steals the show. Meanwhile the two offspring of Mann and Apatow play the children of Laura and Clarke, and Jason Schwartzman and the agonisingly unfunny Jonah Hill play Ira's wisecracking friends/roommates (a staple ingredient in Apatow films). A bunch of real celebrities (playing themselves) are given small cameos too, and they're fun to watch (Ray Romano's cameo is one of the film's most amusing moments).

In the case of Funny People, there's simply too much here for one movie. The plotting is unruly and flabby, as what seems to be a straightforward tale of morality and redemption becomes bogged down by unnecessary characters, formula and outright schmaltz. This isn't an inherently uninteresting or gruelling film (in fact the first hour is great), but the indefensible length turns a bold experiment into something that too often feels like an endurance contest.

4.8/10

"Technically, GI Joe does not exist. But if it did, it would be comprised of the best men and women from the top military units in the world, the alpha dog's. When all else fails we don't."

Built on the philosophy that any line of Hasbro action figures will translate to the big screen with lucrative results (à la Michael Bay's Transformers), G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is exactly the type of overblown, loud, mindless summer blockbuster it clearly aspired to be - a cartoonish actioner of ornately costumed good vs. evil with large explosions, plenty of CGI, very few nuances and some woeful acting. The filmmakers behind G.I. Joe visibly intended to replicate what a 10-year-old boy's imagination might conjure up while playing with his action figures, and the result is an action film highlight reel that's pleasing to the eye but not to any other organ. On this note it's an awful movie by any standard, but it's also a great deal of fun.

For those unaware, G.I. Joe is not a person - it's an organisation (a bit like the X-Men, except the G.I. Joes gain superpowers through technology and training rather than innate ability). General Hawk (Quaid) is the one who presides over this elite unit of warriors. The plot, so to speak, concerns the Joes whose mission is to defend a bunch of cutting edge NATO weapons from an evil organisation. The bad guys plan to steal these weapons and use them to destroy strategic global targets in an effort to (what else?)...take over the world! Of course, none of this detail matters because the whole storyline is an excuse to showcase action sequences that'll just be interrupted by a poorly-placed flashback or a silly joke.

G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is virtually wall-to-wall action, delivered at such a brisk pace that the lull is very noticeable during brief breaks for exposition. The dialogue is expectedly risible, while the story is at once elemental and incomprehensible; jumping from 1640s France to the near future before zipping to Tokyo 20 years earlier, and so on. The screenplay (credited to five writers) is a clichéd mess of fanboy pandering (the famous "knowing is half the battle" line is of course spoken) which struggles to introduce a cumbersome roster of one-note characters while a world domination scheme unfolds that wouldn't pass muster in the most self-indulgent efforts of the James Bond franchise. The script also spends an absurd amount of time on flashbacks that help establish all the characters in the Joe universe. Half the bad guys were originally good guys, the Cobra back-story is turned into a chintzy soap opera, and the origins tale of Snake Eyes is compressed into a few short flashbacks (usually concerning fights between two kids). Even despite the attempts to offer an origins tale for most of the protagonists, they remain as plastic as the toys that inspired them. Sure, expecting character development in a G.I. Joe motion picture is foolhardy, but tension and excitement in action movies are tied to the viewer's ability to root for the protagonists - and it's hard to root for underdeveloped characters.

On the other hand, G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is a devilishly fun and entertaining guilty pleasure. Why? Because it gets it - it knows the pedigree it wants to be, and it pursues it. All that's missing from this film is the hands of an 8-year-old on the screen making the characters move. Director Stephen Sommers only operates in one gear; infusing G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra with a blistering pace that makes it somewhat easier to overlook the film's numerous shortcomings. The atmosphere of unapologetic cartoonishness is exacerbated by the eye-rolling overuse of computer-generated special effects, with the pervasive lack of reality reinforcing the film's proud status as a big-budget summer blockbuster.

In any case, this film is far better than Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen - not because it's more creative or thoughtful (it isn't) but because Sommers is a more sure-handed director than Michael Bay. An audience may not have a great deal of emotional investment in the action, but at least it's comprehensible (the camera never experiences a sudden seizure). Admittedly, too, the action sequences are frequently exhilarating, and the inclusion of several better-than-expected set-pieces (like a breathless chase through the streets of Paris) allow the film to be far more fun than it should be. Yet the quality of the CGI is inconsistent (at times bordering on photorealism, at other times embarrassingly phoney), and the climax erodes interest by splicing together a few hundred concurrent battles instead of just one conflict. While far too long at almost two hours, G.I. Joe is at least not as excruciating or unending as Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.

The only aspect of G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra which does resemble Transformers is the attempt on the part of the filmmakers to have it both ways - to make it as childish and blood-free as possible to draw in kids and obtain a PG-13 rating for maximum profits (though it still underperformed at the box office), while also including enough shooting and violence to keep the older demographic entertained. Like most of Sommers' other work, it's impossible to take the deeply stupid material seriously, and it's therefore jarring that there's a semi-serious tone to everything. It's like Team America minus the winks and overt humour.

Unsurprisingly, G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra features atrocious acting. Channing Tatum is the most glaring offender in the bad-acting department, with a performance that's beyond unconvincingly wooden. Sienna Miller is equally dreadful. An audience should become invested in the relationship between Tatum's Duke and Miller's Ana, but poor writing and lack of chemistry between the leads fails to sell the romance as anything more than a feeble plot element. Christopher Eccleston and Joseph Gordon-Levitt provide a few giggles; they understand they're playing cartoons, and have suitably hammed it up. Marlon Wayans is the film's comic relief, but he's only slightly amusing. Also in the cast is a stale Dennis Quaid, and a few actors from Sommers' The Mummy who are given small roles (Brendan Fraser, Arnold Vosloo and Kevin J. O'Connor).

The subtitle The Rise of Cobra is actually misleading - the Cobra doesn't bother to rise until the last few minutes. There are also loose ends dangling everywhere, which suggest the filmmakers were thinking of a sequel before producing this chapter. The film is therefore not a standalone entity but a tease for future instalments, which makes it an unsatisfying standalone experience before those sequels have been made.

If any film of 2009 has suffered bad buzz and worse marketing, it's G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra. The result is nothing excruciating, but at its best moments it's still entirely forgettable. Then again, the 10-year-old boys for whom the movie is tailor-made aren't seeking Oscar-calibre performances or anything thought-provoking. They want eye-candy and no-holds-barred action, which G.I. Joe delivers at mind-numbing pace. Is it perfect? Fuck no. It's rubbish. But it's still fun.

5.3/10

"Christ. Seven years of college down the drain. Might as well join the fucking Peace Corps."

At the time of its release in 1978, National Lampoon's Animal House was the most successful comedy in history; proving that crude humour could be just as lucrative as space opera and shark action. Additionally, just as Jaws and Star Wars gave birth to the brain-dead blockbuster pedigree, this classic film helped reshape the comedy genre, and influenced future comedies for decades to come (Porky's, Old School, and the American Pie movies, to name a few). Like all the greatest comedies in history, Animal House is timeless. Despite the film being aped ad nauseam for decades, the general style still feels oddly fresh, the main set-pieces remain very funny, and the movie as a whole has stood the test of time.

In terms of plot...well, there frankly isn't a solid plot to speak of - Animal House is simple in premise as it aspires to be one prolonged string of bad-taste fraternity gags which are underpinned by a fun, earnest party atmosphere. Set in the fictional Faber College back in 1962, the film essentially chronicles the rivalry between two student fraternities. The Omegas are rich, arrogant jocks who control the student council and win over all the pretty girls. Meanwhile, there's the Delta Tau Chi fraternity - a bunch of losers with appalling grades who hold court in their dilapidated frat-house and are interested solely in the excesses of rowdy young men (i.e. alcohol, drugs, and, of course, sex). The increasingly disreputable behaviour of the Deltas brings shame to the academic institution, and Dean Wormer (Vernon) will do anything to get rid of them. The Omegas, naturally, are eager to help.

The straightforward premise of Animal House is employed as a launch-pad for a fusillade of comedic set-pieces. There's hardly a dull moment as the film continuously moves from one iconic scene to the next. Such memorable sequences include the toga party and the disastrous homecoming parade. The humour varies wildly, from the delicate (the masterful end credits which reveal the fate of the protagonists) to the slapstick (the golf lesson) and the cartoonish (the virginal Larry, agonising over whether to rape his comatose date, is harangued by miniature angel and devil advocates). Animal House is by no means one long-lasting howl, and a few more juicy laughs would've been beneficial, but it still has its funny moments and it's never tedious. Helmer John Landis offers razor-sharp direction too. Landis had the right sense of humour and energy required to conduct this nuanced symphony of wild college antics.

The only real weakness of Animal House is that the film has literally no direction or purpose, though that's probably what made it work. The cast is a large ensemble with no true lead character or anchor, and the script (more or less comprised of vignettes) was thought to be a total mess. And yet, the film worked. Go figure.

It's a miracle that Animal House actually exists. Back in 1977, director John Landis and writers Harold Ramis, Douglas Kenney and Chris Miller were a bunch of young writers for a popular college magazine with no experience in the film industry. It was Ivan Reitman who eventually gave the boys the big break they needed. And even once the film was given the green light, it was difficult to hire top actors. An ensemble of predominantly unknown actors was assembled instead. Luckily, the film was a success, and it helped catapult a lot of the cast and crew to fame.

In the cast you'll find such names as Karen Allen (years before she appeared in Raiders of the Lost Ark), Tom Hulce (many years prior to Amadeus), and even Kevin Bacon in his film debut. The actors all played it funny, but played it real - they each embodied a character rather than a caricature (though the characterisations aren't that deep). Also in the cast is Stephen Furst as an overweight freshman nobody wants in their fraternity, Peter Riegert as an excessive drinker, Bruce McGill as the in-house biker, James Widdoes as the Delta House President, and Tim Matheson whose character acts like the intellectual backbone of the Delta group (especially when it comes to their ingenious schemes). However it was Donald Sutherland who made this movie possible to produce. Universal had been growing weary of the casting choices, and they were thinking of pulling the plug if they couldn't cast a famous actor of the time. Sutherland stepped in and had his scenes as Jennings (the erotic, pot-smoking professor) shot in two days. And in return he agreed to be paid $50,000 (instead of a percentage of the film's profits - which would have actually earned him a few million dollars).

Without a doubt, the standout of Animal House is the late John Belushi, whose performance here (along with his famous turn in The Blues Brothers) remains a jewel in his tragically brief career. The undisputed heart and soul of the movie, Belushi's scene-stealing, beer-swilling slob Bluto is the immoral hub of the Delta fraternity. Special mention must also be made of John Vernon as Dean Wormer. Vernon is patronising and authoritative; truly one of cinema's most quintessential villains.

In the decades since its release, National Lampoon's Animal House has developed into a pop culture milestone. Its gross-out humour is quite tame compared to its contemporary imitators and the movie is probably more of an exercise in nostalgia, but it remains one hell of a fun, highly amusing ride. And, like all great comedies, it keeps getting better with each new viewing.

8.2/10

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. Remember. Miles to go before I sleep."

Telefon is an entertaining Charles Bronson vehicle - nothing more, nothing less. It lacks brains, it's a tad slapdash and it's an extremely predictable affair, but it's quotable and thoroughly enjoyable as well. With renowned action director Don Siegel at the helm (best known for the first Dirty Harry), Telefon is packed with nail-biting suspense and exciting eruptions of action, all the while threading together an engaging plotline (though it's nothing too deep). With the focus primarily on narrative velocity rather than compelling drama, this is a very serviceable spy thriller supported by an intriguing premise.

The story involves a communist zealot known as Dalchimsky (Pleasance) who plots to sabotage détente by activating deep-cover agents in the United States. Said agents were planted by the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War but were never utilised, and are primed to execute suicidal missions to blow up key military sites on telephonic phone cue. Military intelligence officer Major Grigori Borzov (Bronson) is recruited by the Soviets to eliminate Dalchimsky before his actions trigger World War III. Oh, and Grigori is accompanied by an American agent named Barbara (Remick). With the continuing political conflict and military tension between America and Russia in the late '70s and throughout the 1980s, it's kinda heart-warming to witness a movie released in 1977 which features a Russian agent and an American agent working side-by-side.

At its most basic level, Telefon is pleasant escapism. The script was penned by the screenwriting duo of Sterling Silliphant and Peter Hyams, based on the novel by Walter Wager. Though the story is considered by some to be beyond the realms of reality, the driving force behind the plot (i.e. activating agents using drug-induced hypnosis) isn't as far-fetched as some of the actual schemes concocted by the overzealous CIA and KGB during the Cold War. The script's only weak spots are in the characters and the construction of events. Initially, Grigori and Barbara are hostile towards one another. An audience would expect these two to somehow end up together, and we get that pay-off, but it seems merely perfunctory rather than natural. Granted, it's probably unreasonable to expect a beautifully-written relationship in a film like this. But if said relationship is unmotivated and naff, then there's a big problem.

Here's the major problem with Telefon: it's entirely without a satisfying final act. At about a hundred minutes in length, the film is fairly long considering the '70s action-thriller pedigree. And during these hundred minutes, there's a lot of building up with very little pay-off. Walter Wages' novel contained an excellent climax which could've become an effective action set-piece in this screen adaptation, but alas the film fizzles out with a whimper. The demise of the main villain is underwhelming, and the story is wrapped up irritatingly quickly. In all likelihood, budget constraints prevented a big climax from being lensed. It's disappointing, to say the least.

Director Don Siegel handles the action competently, but this is not among his best efforts (a few terrific set-pieces notwithstanding, there's some pretty dull filmmaking on display here). Lalo Schifrin also provides a fantastic score which suitably amplifies tension during key scenes. As for the acting...not unlike the sleeper agents of the picture, the stoic Charles Bronson gives a strong impression of deep hypnosis throughout. During his career, Bronson rarely acted - he simply inhabited a film with his particular presence, which frequently played off his infamous Death Wish persona. Donald Pleasence fares a lot better as the main villain of the film. He oozes menace, and is especially sinister while uttering a few lines from the particular Robert Frost poem which triggers a sleeper agent. Lee Remick's performance is impassive, and she's an absurd love interest for Bronson. Also in the cast is Tyne Daly who's embarrassing as the overexcitable CIA computer expert (hilariously, the computers she uses literally have a brain of their own) and whose role feels at once redundant and underdone.

Bronson enthusiasts will almost certainly find a lot to enjoy about Telefon - it's a fun spy thriller with Bronson in Russian Death Wish mode. The film was later parodied in The Naked Gun, and Tarantino used the "trigger" phrase ("The woods are lovely, dark and deep...") in his 2007 movie Death Proof.

6.2/10

When the system of justice doesn't work...Bronson does!

The Evil That Men Do is just a Charles Bronson actioner made strictly for the star's unfinicky fan-base. As to be expected from such a label, this film is a violent action-fest with minimal supporting story. And the fact that this particular Bronson vehicle nominally concerns itself with the violation of human rights merely makes the violence juicier. Bronson featured in some of the seminal action movies of the 1960s (The Dirty Dozen and The Great Escape, to name a few), but by the late '70s and early '80s his résumé became blotted with sloppy actioners that basically reworked his Death Wish persona over and over again. Cheap and slapdash, The Evil That Men Do can only muster meagre thrills, with Bronson on autopilot and J. Lee Thompson's direction strictly by the numbers. It's enjoyably violent, but there's precious little else of interest and it's nothing you haven't seen before.

Bronson plays hardboiled former hitman Holland who's enjoying retirement in the Cayman Islands. However, he ends his self-imposed retirement when he learns that an old friend of his has died at the hand of notorious sadist Clement Molloch (Maher). Molloch is known as The Docter, and he's renowned for utilising his skills to torture rather than heal. Accompanied by the family of his deceased friend and a barrage of Bronson-esque weapons, Holland sets out to execute his one final mark.

While The Evil That Men Do has a terrific concept and tackles some fascinating issues, the film is just an excuse for Bronson to violently wipe out foreign-based scum - it's an exploitative actioner which hangs its coat on genuine issues. There are a number of ways the filmmakers could've made this story more interesting. For instance, the film could've highlighted the similarities between Holland and Molloch (Holland is, after all, a contract killer who executes targets for money, much like Molloch who's paid by governments to conceive torture techniques). Holland's revenge machinations could've also been as elaborate as possible. Alas, the film never exploits this potential as it's instead determined to be stripped-down and narratively simplistic.

Obnoxiously poor writing is another critical fault of The Evil That Men Do. Holland initially refuses the assignment to kill Molloch, but inexplicably changes his mind and works for no charge. The character of Rhiana (Saldana) calls on Holland to take action and kill Molloch, but chastises him as a cold-blooded killer when he begins to eliminate his targets. Meanwhile the script's utter stupidity is downright insulting. For example Rhiana's daughter is brought into such a dangerous situation for no real purpose other than to be taken hostage. And (apart from cheap theatrics), there was absolutely no reason for Holland to hang Molloch's chauffeur off a window ledge (why not handle it more discretely and avoid attention?). There's also the matter of the dialogue. Lines such as "He was wearing a bulletproof vest" are idiotic and contrived. More intelligent filmmakers would've found a way to show this rather than resorting to inane remarks like this.

Considering it's fervently a no-holds-barred action film, The Evil That Men Do is pretty deficient in the action department. It's as if the filmmakers attempted to transcend the routine action movie clichés by focusing more on story and character development. But the problem is that neither of these elements truly work. The story suffers from inconsistencies (as previously outlined), and even the simplest opportunities to inject life into these characters are bypassed. The characters instead remain cardboard creations we never get to know or understand. Holland never talks about his inner feelings, nor does he explain what motivated him to become a killer for hire. Rhiana is openly disgusted by Holland time and time again, but later begins feeling affection towards him mysteriously.

J. Lee Thompson collaborated with Bronson for numerous films (most notably Death Wish 4), and his direction here is standard in every sense of the word. The awful music and tawdry production values further undermine his efforts (a very obvious dummy is used in one sequence, for example). Bronson manages to look cool while on the prowl, but his line delivery is flat and he's just playing another thinly-veiled version of himself. Furthermore, there's nothing intense or intimidating about Holland. Joseph Maher as Molloch is forgettable and not sinister enough, while Theresa Saldana is pretty terrible in the thankless role of Rhiana.

Like many Bronson vehicles of the 1980s, The Evil That Men Do is just a turkey shoot with car chases and shootouts executed in a perfunctory manner. At least we're left with a handful of fun, campy moments, including a sequence during which Bronson lures one villain into a trap by suggesting a threesome, and a scene where Bronson hides under a bed while Molloch's sister has sex with her lesbian lover. If you're a Bronson fan who craves more movies of the Death Wish ilk, you'll probably be entertained by this film. If you dislike Bronson, this flick won't change your mind.

3.6/10