Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"If you're gonna get wet, might as well go swimming."

For Matchstick Men, acclaimed director Ridley Scott turns his attention away from the visceral blockbusters he's recognised for in order to deliver a finely crafted drama and character study about con artistry and family life. An adaptation of the novel by Eric Garcia, this excellent motion picture successfully combines black comedy, drama, and (most importantly) a cluster of unforseen plot twists. Matchstick Men falls into a particular sub-genre of the thriller - a sub-genre concerning conmen and their disreputable trade. Some of these movies work, while others sink without a trace. The Sting and The Grifters are examples of great additions to this sub-genre, and Ridley Scott's Matchstick Men can now be self-assuredly added to that list. Granted, this flick is a large bevy of clichés mixed together in a cauldron. However, the product is an infinitely entertaining and imaginative plot-driven little feature. With director Scott's seal of approval, a wicked little script and several utterly fabulous performances, the clichés are stylishly disguised.

Roy Waller (Cage) is an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobic veteran conman. As he describes it, he's a "con artist. Flimflam man, matchstick man, loser. Whatever you wanna call it, take your pick". Roy and his partner Frank (Rockwell) only pull off small cons; little games that earn them a few hundred dollars at a time. Their slippery antics employed to implement these little cons keep the money flowing in, especially for Roy who has built a comfortable lifestyle owing to his clever deception. But Roy has a conscience (consequently unwilling to pursue a "long con"), is a neurotic, and his personal life is a mess. His life takes a dramatic turn when he discovers he has a teenage daughter - a child whose existence he suspected but never dared confirm. 14-year-old Angela (Lohman) enters his life suddenly, becomes intrigued by her father's trade and wants in on the Roy/Frank partnership. But, with a "long con" job finally coming down the pipeline, Angela's entrance may jeopardise Roy's peace of mind, not to mention his entire way of life.

Matchstick Men is more or less two movies magnificently spliced into one; each enriching the other. Cage's character takes centre stage in the first. The focus is on his psychological problems, his misgivings about his profession, and (most importantly) his relationship with Angela. The abruptness of Angela's arrival in his life opens up a world of possibilities he hadn't ever previously considered, while simultaneously making him aware of how unprepared he is for major life-changing decisions. The second concentrates on the conning escapades of Frank and Roy. Matchstick Men moves along confidently and expertly, diving into the lives of these characters while displaying their weaknesses and fully involving us in their exploits. The one truly detrimental fault in the story is that, in hindsight, too much of it depends on sheer coincidence and chance. The film ends with a saccharine-coated conclusion that, while tying up all the loose ends, feels tacked-on and uneven.

On top of being moderately suspenseful on occasion, Matchstick Men is also imbued with a sly, biting sense of humour. Character behaviour sometimes results in decent laugh-aloud moments (although it isn't really a comedy overall even if it is billed as one...don't expect a large dosage of broad comedy and you'll be satisfied). Matchstick Men is also emotionally satisfying, with the association between Roy and Angela becoming central to the storyline. The interactions between them are spellbinding and fascinating. There's even a slight hint of discovery in this relationship. Angela is given the opportunity to live the fantasy and find out what it's like to have a real father, and Roy is provided with the chance to experience the wonders of what he missed when his wife walked out on him fourteen years ago.

Understandably and encouragingly, none of this actually feels like a Ridley Scott motion picture. Restrained in style and carefully-paced, Scott's artistry is in a more subtle mode here. The director's efforts are truly remarkable, and he never allows a viewer to foresee any of the numerous plot twists. The characters are also grounded in contemporary reality without ever falling prey to the ridiculous. Matchstick Men isn't overflowing with lavish locales or big-budget action sequences... it's a simple comedy-drama (trademark tension is a key feature, mind you). Ridley Scott has helmed character-driven features before (Thelma & Louise, White Squall), but he's never previously done anything this light. For a filmmaker with no prior experience with comedy, Scott has a deft hand. Considering his experience as a director, though, would it have been rational to expect anything less?

The script is moderately derivative and it does contain a number of customary genre clichés, but screenwriters Nicholas and Ted Griffin still manage to elicit fresh-feeling material (Scott's lively direction also contributes to this). Dialogue is witty (a rarity these days), and characters are both sharply-drawn and well-developed. The cinematography is especially excellent as well - dizzying POV shots are quite stunning; providing insight into the condition of agoraphobia (a truly marvellous creative choice). Han Zimmer's laid-back, jazzy score is the definitive ingredient; establishing the right mood during the drama and cranking up the tension as the film begins to wind down. Also included is a selection of eclectic music, consisting mainly of classics such as the work of Frank Sinatra as well as Johnny Mercer. Matchstick Men delivers plenty - emotional investment with the three-dimensional characters, a narrative which engages from start to finish, and mind-blowing plot twists.

One of the movie's greatest assets is undoubtedly the talented band of actors filling the cast. Nicolas Cage places forth a wonderful portrayal of conman Roy Waller. In displaying the traits of his character's disorder, Cage never exaggerates and consequently comes across as extremely believable. This is definitely one of the star's best performances. Alongside Cage is the always-reliable Sam Rockwell; playing the partner in crime to perfection. Rockwell's performance as Frank Mercer (the name is a tribute to Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mercer) is infused with the right mix of cynicism and sincerity. The dialogue between Rockwell and Cage crackles with wit and intelligence (a rarity in films these days), providing an exceptional dynamic that keeps the film rolling along at a satisfying pace.
However it's relative newcomer Alison Lohman who steals the show; unquestionably outshining the superb stars working beside her. Her vivacious performance infects us with her energy and enthusiasm, combining a girlish innocence with a brash worldliness. As Roy's 14-year-old daughter, she's both adorable and believably natural. Her attire and mannerisms are spot-on...which is especially commendable, because she was actually 22 years old during filming!
Actors Bruce Altman and Bruce McGill also supply top-notch support - the former taking centre stage as a psychiatrist, and the latter submitting a grimacing performance as the latest con victim for Roy and Frank.

Tucking away his visual athletics in favour of something more leisurely and subtle, Ridley Scott (one of the very best visual directors in history) proves he is more than capable of helming special effects extravaganzas and intricate dramas with equal aplomb. The actors also prove their versatility, especially Nicolas Cage who places forth one of the greatest performances of his career. Matchstick Men is a sublime example of old-fashioned filmmaking, with a script that's far too delicious and cunning to spoil. For an entertaining, intelligent, slick comedy-thriller, this is hard to beat.

8.1/10

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

As the title implies, High Fidelity is a quirky, humorously philosophical romantic comedy driven thematically by music - in other words, music matters to the protagonists and more or less defines them. Containing over 50 credited songs, this is a pop-music-soaked study of failed relationships (and the obsessive elitism of pop-culture fanatics) through the eyes of a music geek. This filmic appropriation of Nick Hornby's 1995 novel probably seemed like a daft idea on paper, as the setting was altered from London to Chicago and the decidedly British tone would be difficult to retain. Yet, against all odds, director Stephen Frears and co. have crafted an appealing, engaging, witty, smart meditation on the prattles of sex; retaining the attitude of the novel and adding a broader, more accessible feel. Hornby's amusing and undeniably honest insights into the male condition remain intact in this cinematic adaptation as well. High Fidelity is also extraordinarily well-crafted - it entertains from the very first shot 'til the closing credits, the script is terrific, performances are zingy all-round, and Frears' direction is inspired.

"John Dillinger was killed behind that theater in a hale of FBI gunfire. And do you know who tipped them off? His fucking girlfriend. All he wanted to do was go to the movies."

The story primarily concerns reflection, self-discovery and realisation about the nature of love. It additionally concerns (and is in a way for) those obsessed with pop culture - books, music, movies, etc.
Rob Gordon (Cusack) is an underachieving former DJ seemingly cursed with a romantic hex. Ever since a brief liaison under the football benches as a kid, his love life has been catastrophic. Speaking directly to the camera, Rob takes us on a guided tour of his life; mulling over his favourite music and the bittersweet history of his romantic failures. Rob is a downright music enthusiast - his apartment is lined with shelves of coveted vinyl records, and he owns his own (failing) record store 'Championship Vinyl'. He begins going through a crisis of self-confidence when his latest girlfriend Laura (Hjejle) dumps him. Rob proceeds to recount his top five most memorable break-ups of all time, reflecting on his romantic troubles to determine why his relationships are so luckless.

To capture the freewheeling style of Hornby's book, director Frears is heavily dependent on direct-to-camera addresses and voiceovers which are initially jarring. However, with Cusack's eminent amiability functioning as a conduit, one can eventually slide into the movie's rhythms and get drawn into Rob's little universe. Not a lot actually occurs throughout the course of the film, and it can't eschew the clichés, but it's the way director Frears tweaks it that makes it seem fresh and welcome. In a meandering fashion that could easily alienate an audience accustomed to action pictures and broad comedy, High Fidelity takes us inside Rob's struggling record business; cinematographer Seamus McGarvey's camera spending a great deal of time tracking events occurring inside the store. Rob specialises in vinyl records of pop music, and his two workers Dick (Louiso) & Barry (Black) are willing to work voluntarily for twice the time that they were hired to do. The comedy succeeds because the makers are aware that they must create well-drawn characters a viewer can come to care about in order to stage a successful humorous situation. High Fidelity finds the delicate balance between hilarity and dramatic resonance, without ever resorting to character caricaturisation or going over the top in its depiction of true-to-life situations (perhaps once, granted, when three different takes are presented of a confrontation between two characters).

"I can't fire them. I hired these guys for three days a week and they just started showing up every day. That was four years ago."

High Fidelity pays particularly astute attention to the typical life of an aging Generation-X male in contemporary society; absolutely nailing even the smallest details of his existence with droll, sagacious charm, such as those cruel, nagging phone conversations between mother and son. From its observant take on late twenty-something romance, to its faultless recreation of the record store set and music scene (not to mention the terrific portrayal of the denizens dwelling within), High Fidelity does virtually everything right. There are countless wonderfully original, touchingly funny scenes. The humour is wry and clever, and the movie maintains a generally upbeat tone. It also occasionally toys with the significance of pop music to a person's psychological development. There's even a slight hint of Woody Allen in the project (from the neuroses of the protagonist to the Annie Hall-type dissection of a dud romance), but without the stigma some movie-goers attach to Allen's excellent oeuvre. Due to its quirky characters, smart dialogue, and sporadic bursts of incisive humour, High Fidelity stands out as a small movie that deserves wide exposure.

The distinguishing point of High Fidelity is that it's much closer to the authentic feel of British films as opposed to the crisp perfection of Hollywood. All of the characters come across as actual people not unlike those you'd encounter in a record store. The first-rate screenplay was written in part by John Cusack who also stars as the protagonist. Cusack is an apt choice; admirably pulling off Rob as both a character and as a narrator. The "breaking the fourth wall" technique seems completely natural. He constantly addresses the audience via narration or speaking directly to the camera, but it never feels excessive thanks to his boundless geniality. Cusack's character is clearly miserable, yet he never craves too much sympathy - he recognises our intelligence. Your tolerance of High Fidelity will most likely depend on your tolerance of the lead actor.

While Cusack is excellent in the title role, there's a gallery of supporting actors who wonderfully make their mark. Jack Black and Todd Louiso absolutely steal the show as two socially-inept clerks working at Rob's vinyl shop who live and breathe pop music, and spend their days arguing about pop trivia while comparing various "top 5" lists. These guys have their music aficionado characters nailed down to a tee. Jack Black is a particular stand-out; his characterisation of Barry is full of energy and attitude, and he imbues every line with comic punch. One of the film's best scenes features Barry ferociously telling off a middle-aged man looking to buy I Just Called to Say I Love You for his daughter.
Relatively unknown Danish actress Iben Hjejle is believable and likeable as Rob's latest girlfriend. Despite little experience as an actress in American movies, she's clearly mastered her American accent. Beyond these characters, there's merely a bunch of cameos from a variety of actresses. Catherine Zeta-Jones is the most memorable for fairly obvious reasons. Lisa Bonet is also appealing for every frame in which she appears, and John Cusack's sister Joan (a frequent guest in her sibling's movies) is predictably good as Rob's pal Liz. Look out for Tim Robbins as well, who's visibly enjoying himself (this is contagious).

High Fidelity is a charming, whimsical little film that perfectly captures the temperament of retail folks who are both knowledgeable and passionate about their product, and who prefer discussing their commodity as opposed to being paid for it. This is a fantastic flick; an excellently-constructed romantic comedy for the pop generation. The characters inhabiting the picture are believable and very well developed, and the performances are strong. The humour is sharp and witty; never feeling forced. The accompanying soundtrack is scene-appropriate and extremely enjoyable. It even rightfully recognises Evil Dead II as the cinematic classic it truly is. On top of this, a boundless energy pervades the movie - there's hardly a dull moment at any stage during the 110-minute runtime. High Fidelity also succeeds because it deeply taps into the male psyche with an emotional honesty that anchors the drama and ensures the characters (Dick and Barry included) are never treated as caricatures. It's fairly clichéd, but Frears' terrific direction strongly distracts us from the unoriginality. All things considered, High Fidelity is high value cinema and it's simply a delightful way to spend a couple of hours.

"It would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated. Females less cruel. Skins thicker. Instincts more developed. But there seems to be an element of that afternoon in everything that's happened to me since. All my romantic stories are a scrambled version of that first one."

9.0/10

"Become the animal. Embrace the other side."

Let's face it: we pay to see summer movies for the explosions, the fight scenes and the action in general. They aren't required to engage us on a cerebral level; they merely offer an abundance of action during which we're required to suspend our disbelief. X-Men Origins: Wolverine, however, is definitive proof that a plateful of action is not enough to create a satisfying summer movie. For a film to attain the status of an excellent popcorn-munching cinematic experience, it's required to pay at least some attention to narrative coherence and character arcs, not to mention the action has to occur in an actual context. In Wolverine, the action sequences just...happen. To arrive at an action sequence, one has to suffer through badly-paced scenes of trite dialogue and terrible acting. Plot holes also flourish, logic is quickly discarded, and it leaves too many things unexplained. Instead of a deep character study, X-Men Origins: Wolverine is merely an action film masquerading as something more. There's no human drama (ala Spider-Man) or witty dialogue (like Iron Man). Even the other X-Men movies had a political resonance to them which isn't retained here. This is Hack Filmmaking 101!

X-Men Origins: Wolverine was ostensibly a labour of love for poor Hugh Jackman who also served as producer, but unfortunately his efforts didn't pay off. About a month before the film's scheduled release, an incomplete workprint was leaked online. As it turns out, though, this leak was the best thing to happen to the film industry during 2009. Those eagerly anticipating the movie (this reviewer included) were given the opportunity to see how awful it truly is. Fox immediately attempted to cover their blunder by claiming footage from the reshoots was missing from the workprint (fourteen minutes in total, apparently). Curiously, closer to the release date, Fox's story changed: ten minutes of reshoots are missing from the workprint version, and these ten new minutes are replacing ten particular minutes which have been removed from the final cut. However, the workprint was indeed the final cut sans finished special effects, sound effects and music. The alleged "missing footage" never existed...it was a lie manufactured by Fox in a frantic attempt to convince audiences to go see the completed movie. But those deceptive chairmen at Fox couldn't manufacture a lie to cover one particular fact: Wolverine is completely beyond salvation. No amount of reshooting could salvage this mess. Nothing short of a total remake - with a completely new script and plotline, and a bunch of new actors - could rescue this awful film.

In a failed attempt to distance the franchise from 2006's X-Men: The Last Stand, Fox green-lit this prequel instead of another sequel. Wisely, Wolverine was selected as the focus of this first origins adventure...yet this motion picture fails to illuminate the breadth of Wolverine's tale. His back-story is complex and lavish, traversing over many centuries and veering off into numerous sub-plots (and countries), all the while navigating through various relationships with an assortment of characters. This is all condensed into about 105 minutes, and it falls apart in less than a fraction of that time. No-one cares about where Wolverine got his jacket - a Wolverine-centric spin-off following the main character kicking butt in Japan would have been far better!

The film opens in Canada in 1845 (which is very strange, considering Canada wasn't established 'til 1867) when a young James Howlett first discovers his bone claw abilities. A few deaths occur, and James goes on the run with his half-brother Victor. This prologue, however, is very rushed; it's more confusing than compelling. Following this, a montage is presented as Wolverine and Sabretooth (Jackman and Schreiber, respectively) fight alongside each other in every major U.S. war. Never mind that it's impossible for these two to always be assigned to the same unit, as this indiscretion is reasonably minor compared to the other sins of logic to be found within. For instance, they're also Canadian... I guess no-one checked their papers when they enlisted in the U.S. Army...
After their experiences in Vietnam, the brothers are recruited by William Stryker (Huston) to be part of a team of mutants assigned to carry out missions in third world countries. Off-tangent sub-plots then appear in abundance; the main one concerning Wolverine seeking revenge after his lady friend meets with a violent end. Some betraying also occurs, more mutants are introduced, and this culminates in an endlessly silly climax. Instead of one solid plot, Wolverine is merely a tonne of sub-plots mashed together.

"All the horrible things in your life... Your father, the wars, I can make all this go away. You can live knowing that the woman you loved was hunted down, or you can join me. I promise you will have your revenge."

It's hard to begin detailing exactly what's wrong with this movie, because the truth is, it's just about everything. X-Men Origins: Wolverine is a disaster of monumental proportions.
The first major problem is the screenplay. It's a string of well-worn clichés we've seen a million times before - including not one, but two "don't do it, you'll be just as bad as him" moments as well as a conventional, cheesy, embarrassing romance subplot which concludes on the most clichéd note possible. Dialogue is another issue: it's AWFUL! I have no idea what's worse; the dreadful dialogue or the abysmal way the actors disperse it. The script also skims through crucial character development and more or less eschews Wolverine's origins entirely. If it's truly an "origins" tale as advertised, where are the explanations? When initially introduced to baby Wolverine, he's already a mutant with bone claws. How did he get them? The best we can assume is his biological father was a mutant, although the implication is irritatingly vague. These things are brushed aside in a hurry in order to dive straight into the action. The screenwriters never considered, however, that an audience needs a reason to care for the characters that are stuck in the midst of the action (only small-minded, ADD-inflicted individuals will overlook this). Another thing regarding the action: virtually all of the characters are invincible, which jettisons all hope of any emotional investment with them. When Wolverine and Sabretooth battle pointlessly over and over again, we know neither of them will die and the fight will conclude with them just walking away. Why should we care?

Wolverine is never given an opportunity to come to terms with his mutations. Even after his skeleton is coated with Adamantium, he's automatically cool with it all...except for the customary "looking at self in mirror while testing abilities" (TM) scene which lasts one or two minutes. Another major gripe: the name "Logan" is never justified. In the original comics, Wolverine was a Samurai and he was given the name Logan. In this muddled mess of a movie, the name Logan just...appears. We have no idea where it came from...he's just named Logan for no reason, and other characters mysteriously pick this up.
Neither does the script justify why Sabretooth becomes Wolverine's sworn enemy. Reasons for other happenings in the story - such as Sabretooth killing a perfectly harmless mutant, and beginning a Watchmen-style elimination of all mutants in his former team - also never become clear.

"I'm coming for blood. No code of conduct, no law."

The script is beset with absolutely preposterous moments. Like there's a high profile facility on the mysterious "Island", and Wolverine is able to simply stroll through the front doors. No security? No locks? And when mutants are escaping, a grand total of four armed men try to stop them. The cages containing the mutants are also just metal wire fences. Some mutants have powers to cut through these wires easily, like Cyclops who can slice through bricks. On top of this, Stryker is so dumb he decides to erase Wolverine's memory after coating the guy's skeleton with Adamantium, making him indestructible. Characters also pop up at the most appropriate time (an entrance from a particular character during the final showdown is embarrassingly terrible and way too convenient...it will elicit groans). Wolverine is beleaguered with logic problems, primarily from the "Why don't you just...?" variety and the "That's just totally stupid / What the fuck?!" range (like the aforesaid examples). One should suspend their disbelief for a comic book movie, but this takes things to the next level. It's worse than your usual brainless summer actioner. The film's concluding 10 minutes in particular are absolutely retarded. On top of this, the continuity of the entire series is wrecked. Certain conversations in the other X-Men films now make no sense (like Stryker telling Wolverine he gave him claws when in reality Stryker just strengthened the claws).

A plethora of infamous Marvel characters are dispatched not long after their introductions. Virtually every single character is flat; appearing in name-only form to entice fans. Deadpool's treatment is most heartbreaking. Perhaps Ryan Reynolds was behind the workprint leak after he viewed the incomplete version and realised the gross misuse of Deadpool. The character's appearance is no more than a cameo. Don't get too attached to other much-hyped characters such as The Blob, John Wraith, Agent Zero and Bolt, as (like Deadpool) their appearances amount to a mere cameo. Team X is formed at the film's beginning, but after a brief first mission Wolverine has a stroke of moral conscience and leaves the group. Why Wolverine and Sabretooth are so willing to join Stryker in the first place is a mystery. Due to the rushed nature of the opening twenty minutes, there's no way we can get emotionally attached to the characters. A lot of potential is wasted.
Most jarringly, this film clearly wants to be separate from the comics as it takes a separate path, yet if you're not acquainted with all these Marvel characters you won't care about those who appear and won't understand what they're doing here. The story isn't deep enough to provide the uninitiated with requisite information about everything (the title of 'Team X' isn't even mentioned...if it was it certainly wasn't a memorable moment), and it isn't loyal enough to satiate the fanboys.

Director Gavin Hood previously helmed 2007's Rendition as well as Tsotsi (which won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Feature in 2006). Hood's inability to direct a genuinely enjoyable and resonant motion picture surfaces here again. Wolverine is a concatenation of action movie clichés, not just from the hackneyed screenplay but also the selection of shots. Like a shot of the protagonist setting off an explosion and walking in slow motion towards the camera, as well as the customary situation of the hero walking away from the bad guy he's decided not to kill, only to turn back slowly as said bad guy dramatically reveals something.

The action sequences are frequently marred by slo-mo shots, whereas other action sequences can't be enjoyed because of the invincibility of the characters, and as for the others...there's no context. An action scene involving Wolverine taking down a helicopter is admittedly awesome to watch, but within the story it makes no sense. Stryker is trying to kill the creature he just created at great expense, and sends his right-hand man to do the job...knowing fully well that bullets made of Adamantium are the only thing that can take down Wolverine. That's just the first of many irreverent action sequences. Others include a boxing match between Wolverine and The Blob that happens for no reason, and even a large-scale battle against Gambit - a mutant who's actually on the same side! For the climax, an unfinished genetically enhanced weapon is unleashed upon Wolverine, when once again Stryker has a full gun of Adamantium bullets at his disposal...and nothing else can kill the (anti)hero. Nothing in this film deals with the immortal characters in a meaningful or interesting way, and no amount of impressive fight choreography can provide the action with genuine tension. The special effects are also quite shonky, and an appearance of a CGI Patrick Stewart is absurdly unconvincing. The pacing, as well, is awful, as spaces between the action sequences are unforgivably sluggish, and this is due to Hood's incompetent direction. Bring back Bryan Singer!

Hugh Jackman has endless charisma as an actor, but his performance here is hamstrung by the badly drawn character. Wolverine is meant to be a badass anti-hero, but he's toned down for the sake of toy sales and the target audience. All Jackman does is strike poses and deliver dismal dialogue. Meanwhile, Liev Schreiber just alternates between sassy one-liners and open-mouthed rage. Luckily, Schreiber is actually a brooding villain, even if his motivations are never explored.
Ryan Reynolds is good as swordsman Wade Wilson (a.k.a. Deadpool), but he's lost far too early into the movie. His screen-time is exasperatingly brief, as is that of Dominic Monaghan whose character of Bolt has an appealing sadness. Taylor Kitsch is a soulless Gambit with a terrible, false accent. Perhaps Lost's Josh Holloway would've made a better Gambit (he was offered the chance to briefly appear in X-Men: The Last Stand as the character, but declined). Not worth mentioning anyone else, as they're all forgettable, especially Danny Huston who isn't at all sinister as Stryker.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine eventually turns into a confusing hodgepodge of uninspired, clichéd fight scenes and loud explosions. The other X-Men films focused on Wolverine at certain times, and he was more or less the central character. You'd think this "origins" tale would, ya know, reveal his origins...but it doesn't! It's just an action film with Wolverine at its core and mutants surrounding him, not unlike the other X-Men flicks. As a whole the film feels very rushed - it's too short to be considered an epic Marvel feature. The action is occasionally impressive, granted, but the whole falls below the sum of its parts. Good action does not mean an excellent movie.
All superhero films are advertisements for their merchandising departments, but Wolverine is more obvious than most, with product placement substituting compelling characters and an engaging storyline. Combined with limp direction and unimaginative special effects, and there's little to recommend. Even Jackman's natural charisma can't rise above the material...but he sure can strike a pose, doing so in every action sequence to ensure the toy department have a field day. No longer will people have to refer to the Spider-Man 3 fiasco - now Wolverine will be the target of conversations concerning bad Marvel movies. Even Brett Ratner's X-Men: The Last Stand is more enjoyable.

2.6/10

"I'd rather die than to stay away from you."

Adapted from Stephenie Meyer's best-selling novel (the first of four books), Twilight is a sloppy, anaemic tale of forbidden teenage love. Perhaps the biggest fault with Twilight is that the film is damagingly reliant on its source material, meaning that while its reverential nature may satiate the pre-converted (a predominantly feminine fan-base of all ages and lung capacity), it leaves the uninitiated on the outside looking in. See, as a standalone film, Twilight is detrimentally incoherent and condensed - characters are underdeveloped, the plot hardly exists, and story intrigue barely exists. The most important thing to realise about Twilight is that it would be exactly the same movie with or without vampires. Those seeking bloodsucking action will be disappointed - the vampiric themes are just a gimmick, as the central focus of the plot is instead a cheesy, insipid, melodramatic romance fable.

Teenage romance tales usually begin with the protagonist moving to a new school and struggling to cope with this change. Such is the unenviable situation when 17-year-old Bella Swan (Stewart) moves in with her father (Burke) after her mother hits the road with a new lover. Bella soon develops a tight-knit group of friends at school despite her inescapable self-consciousness and awkwardness during social interactions. Another cliché soon appears in the form of Edward Cullen (Pattinson). Edward is the typical bad boy archetype: he keeps to himself and no girls are good enough for him. Predictably, Bella develops an incurable crush on this elusive, dashing young man, and the feeling is mutual. But as their tenuous courtship begins, the reason for Edward's mysterious, withdrawn disposition is revealed: he's a vampire. This does not stand in the way of a romance, though, of course.

Twilight admittedly starts well enough with a promising first act, but then it loses its way. Most detrimentally, it takes an inordinate amount of time for the film to hit its stride - it just sluggishly rattles along for far too long as futile ancillary characters are introduced and Bella & Edward trade bad dialogue while gazing longingly at one another. Of course, this is hardly sufficient to sustain a two-hour motion picture, so some superfluous antagonists are introduced at about the 80-minute mark: an unfriendly pack of vampires, who - for absolutely no reason, other than to lead the plot somewhere - decide to hunt Bella.

With book sales so massive that the publishers are filled with envy, and with an enormous fan-base completely prepared to lap up anything pertaining to this beloved franchise, it was only a matter of time before Twilight and its follow-ups were adapted as movies. Mind you, the powers that be are not funding these adaptations because the target audience wants to see them - these films are being green-lit because the fans PAY to see them. Otherwise, everyone involved would be stepping up to ensure Meyer's works were skilfully translated to celluloid. As it is, Twilight is a shoddy commercialisation of the source material; compressing things for the sake of time, and incorporating plot points for fidelity reasons that don't flow naturally. Meyer herself even had the final say in the editing room. This reviewer has never read any of Meyer's novels, but, judging by the quality of this feature, has no interest in starting - Twilight is merely a journey to Dullsville on Nosferatu's ratty wings.

Devoid of the book's first-person narration, the chain of events served up in Melissa Rosenberg's adapted screenplay - like the protagonists mutually surrendering to their feelings, Edward's initial and inexplicable hostility towards Bella, and Edward's choice to reveal himself as a self-controlled but still lethal bloodsucker - proceed with zero logic. Furthermore, even with an occasional emo-ish voiceover, the film cannot truly get into the head of Bella Swan, and consequently her decision to get involved with a lethal vampire comes across as stupid and ill-considered. What the fuck do these people see in each other? The film fails to provide an answer, other than the shallow reason that they're attracted to one another. The result is a supernatural romance in which both the supernatural and romance elements feel rushed, unformed and insufficiently motivated, leaving viewers with little to do but shrug and focus on the eye candy. Also, according to Meyer, William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet was an influence on Twilight. Evidently, it went completely over the bimbo's head that Romeo and Juliet was a fucking satire! If the titular lovers got married, they would have filed for divorced a few years afterwards. Shakespeare may be regarded as boring, but it's hilarious that he can make someone look stupid almost four centuries after his death.

With a more generous budget and a more competent writer, Twilight might - keyword might - have been transformed into a somewhat decent movie. Unfortunately, the film was made on a rather small budget, making it look and feel more like a pilot for a television show. Furthermore, why Catherine Hardwicke was selected to fill the director's chair is truly a mystery for the ages. A film of this scope and sensual edge required a director able to communicate thick torrents of romance as well as dark, violent undertones mixed together to form an arena in which the characters can work out their angst. Hardwicke's sheer inexperience with fantasy and horror is very evident from the outset. The special effects are merely average instead of remarkable, too - when Edward tree hops with Bella, one can virtually see the wires. The depiction of the sparkling vampires in direct sunlight is even worse. The filmmakers turned to ILM for this effect, but - despite their best efforts - Edward's skin looks unconvincing and artificial. Admittedly, though, Twilight is somewhat enjoyable as the momentum builds due to the occasionally engaging atmosphere and a number of excellent soundtrack choices. But don't get me wrong - the film still sucks.

For her novels, Meyer rewrote the vampire rulebook to suit her desires. Meyer's vampires don't have any lethal problems with sunlight, crucifixes, stakes, garlic or holy water. They don't have fangs either. Meyer thus castrated the undead - instead of badass creatures of the night constantly hunting for blood, they casually stroll around on cloudy days and are far too sensitive to bite open the neck of a helpless young girl. There are a few evil vampires in the story, but, given the limitations of the PG-13 rating, they aren't frightening or memorable. On top of the ingrained bloodsucker cinema logic being disposed of, concepts of character motivations and romantic chemistry were ignored too (siblings have more sexual heat than Bella and Edward). Twilight eventually culminates with an exhaustively moronic final act during which the characters suddenly pinball around the country with minimal explanation before arriving at a mirror-filled final showdown arena straight out of the filmmaking 101 handbook.

Another major negative of Twilight is the woeful casting. Robert Pattinson is dull as Edward Cullen. Judging by Pattinson's performance and the nature of his character as presented here, it's difficult to fathom why the world's female population swoon whenever Edward's name is mentioned. Pattison's acting is completely soulless and awkward. He may be portraying an emotionless vampire, but he's too uninteresting. Kristen Stewart's awkward line deliveries are also problematic. The interactions between Bella and Edward feel particularly forced, and the script gives Kristen Stewart no chance to convince the audience of her transcendent love for a guy who'd just as soon drink her blood as jump her bones. No-one else in the cast merits much attention. Due to the sheer volume of characters, smaller roles are left without much dimension and the stars portraying these characters are forgettable. Females are welcome to disagree, though, since the men look like they spent time posing for Abercrombie & Fitch catalogues between takes.

It's hard to deny the commercial success of Twilight ($380 million worldwide from a $37 million budget is nothing to sneeze at), which was mainly thanks to the lonely dateless tweens and college gals who embraced Meyer's wish fulfilment universe. But to the outsiders, the experience alternates between embarrassing cheesiness and outright boredom. A viewer will make up their own mind as to whether or not they'll see the film, so it would be redundant to make a recommendation - either one loves the franchise and wants to see the page-to-screen translation, or curiosity (based on the hype) will merely get the better of an outsider.

Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, Twilight spawned a number of sequels, starting with The Twilight Saga: New Moon in 2009.

4.2/10

"When you're young everything feels like the end of the world. But it's not... It's just the beginning."

Imagine a feeble, generic screenplay (mixing equal parts of Back to the Future, It's a Wonderful Life as well as Big) and mediocre acting. These are the basic constituents that make up 17 Again; a by-the-numbers teen comedy ostensibly green-list for the sole purpose of spotlighting Zac Efron. The teen heartthrob wants to break out of his High School Musical niche...but apparently not too far out of it. In 17 Again he plays a teenager who's the star of the school basketball team. He even dances a little (no singing, though). At 21, young Efron still has ample time to make the transition from teen idol to adult star, which is a relief because this lethargic comedy is a shaky start. The blame for this film's failure rests solely on the shoulders of writer Jason Filardi and director Burr Steels who employ a promising premise - middle-aged screw-up reborn as his teenage self - and misfire at every turn. The target audience for this mess is roughly the same as Hannah Montana: The Movie, and the quality is similar as well.

Mike O'Donnell (Efron) is the star of his high school basketball team. As the film opens, it's 1989. 17-year-old Mike is about to play a crucial basketball game which will determine the course of his life. But Mike ruins the opportunity to play and, in doing so, renounces a potential scholarship. Fast-forward several years, and Mike (now played by Perry) is living a miserable life - a divorce is on the horizon, his job situation is awful, and his kids hate him. (We also know Mike is miserable because he tells his spouse "I'm extremely disappointed with my life"...in case you haven't realised, writer Filardi tells more than he shows.) Frustrated, he audibly wishes that he could reboot his life and elect a different route. Lo and behold, this wish is granted...Mike soon wakes up as 17-year-old Efron. Over the course of the next few weeks, Mike keeps an eye on his family and tries to sort out his life. Oh, and during this time no-one ever wonders where (adult) Mike has disappeared to. Some additional ludicrous twaddle is also thrown into the mix about a spirit guide entering the picture in the form of the magical high school janitor (ugh, that old device?).

Very little creative energy was expended in the creation of this movie, which is modelled after the body-swapping comedies of the 70s and 80s, one of which is even called 18 Again. Screenwriter Filardi - whom one can assume is an expert in contrived, formulaic comedy, having previously written Bringing Down the House - has simply mashed together a string of clichés, and director Steers hasn't done much to improve it. It's all extremely conventional and it's nothing we haven't seen before. 17 Again treads no new territory, and trudges through familiar territory with a slack disregard for its own quality. It more or less reiterates messages stated in It's a Wonderful Life; this time aiming at a more modern audience familiar with the concept of a miserable middle-aged man whose life has crumbled apart due to decisions made during teenage life.

Unfortunately, the humour frequently relies on the satirisation of contemporary teenage life, referencing such things as cell phones and YouTube for laughs. However, these gags (which are considered amusing in 2009) will prevent 17 Again from developing into a timeless classic as the relatability of its depiction will eventually dissolve. See, instead of encapsulating the era it merely satirises it...and only those inside the joke will laugh at the gags. That said, there are small things to enjoy in 17 Again. Thomas Lennon is the by far the most enjoyable; playing a nerd whose home is overloaded with nerdy memorabilia (from Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings). The scenes involving Ned add nothing but padding and clichés to the central plot, but they're easily the funniest parts. How can the movie get one thing so right while getting other things so wrong? It's disappointing.
All of the characters (even Ned to an extent) are unable to escape from his or her caricature orbit. They're a bunch of stereotypes and, for the most part, their one-dimensionality makes them uninteresting. The film's buoyant comedic tone sometimes seems strained as well, tossing in a lightsabre duel and an Efron dance number for no real reason other than to keep the audience awake.

Workable ideas are often poisoned by trite, unfunny humour and zany scenes that drag on for far too long. Some of the humour relies on Mike getting entangled in situations that are awkward on account of his secret status as an adult. A sex-ed lesson in health class, for instance, soon takes a downward tumble when Mike begins lecturing his fellow students about abstinence. It's awkward, but, crucially, not very funny. The film is rife with situations like this, including the inevitable moment when Maggie - Mike's own daughter - puts the moves on him (a dull homage to Back to the Future). The moments that do generally succeed, however, come as a result of the PG-13 rating which allows for more risqué sex jokes, even if they are quite tame compared to most contemporary American sex comedies.

Filardi's screenplay also contains gross errors in chronology. For instance, in one of the 1989 scenes Mike is referred to as "Vanilla Ice" by his coach. That's peculiar considering Vanilla Ice didn't become famous until 1990. More importantly, if Scarlett fell pregnant with Maggie in early 1989, Maggie should be almost 20 years old by now and therefore not a high school student. Confusions also arise in regards to the number of years Scar and Mike have been a couple, as characters say different things at different times. I'm guessing these errors are because the film was scheduled to be released last year and was probably meant to be set in 2007, not 2009. Nevertheless, when the adult Mike is introduced the title reads "Today". A good way to confuse the audience, lads!

At one time or another, adults probably fantasise about reliving the glory days of their youth. It's an unfortunate but true fact that only time imparts the wisdom to realise what has been lost. 17 Again endeavours to express this, but the message is hindered by the execution. The film doesn't spend enough time in the company of Matthew Perry as the adult Mike. In all likelihood, the filmmakers frantically rushed through Perry's scenes to return Efron to the screen as quickly as possible...thus botching the crucial setup. At no point does Perry's portrayal of Mike achieve a semblance of humanity. When teenage Mike is on screen, the "hook" for the omniscient audience is that he's a middle-aged man trapped in the body of his high school self, but neither the script nor Efron effectively sell this premise. Quips and moments are included to remind us, but there's a difference between being told something and actually believing it. Since adult Mike is given such a small amount of screen-time, we're not familiar with how he acts, and therefore it’s impossible to find comedy in Efron's impersonation.

It's telling that the film's strongest scene is its opening sequence. 17 Again subsequently crashes once old Perry transforms into young Efron and almost immediately dives into the business of repairing his family life. Shouldn't he be relishing the opportunity to relive his teenage years? No use is made of such potential; the film instead comfortably plods towards the inevitable, clichéd ending. The plot concentrates on Mike's befuddled path to salvation, but the movie appears more infatuated with Efron and his performance elasticity.

Both Efron and Matthew Perry are forgettable in their respective roles; Perry not given sufficient time to make an impression and Efron is simply disposable. Efron's job is to look pretty and give the girls around him a reason to hit on him. To the teenage girls, mission accomplished. To the male population and critics, it just isn’t good enough. The heartthrob has yet to submit a breakout performance that displays his versatility and talent as a performer. Leonardo DiCaprio made a solid impression during his transition to adult star with What's Eating Gilbert Grape, for instance. Efron needs to take a big step away from Disney and genuinely test his limits as an actor.
As said before, Lennon steals the show as Ned. He's the only purveyor of decent comedy in this disappointing flick. Leslie Mann also appears as Mike's fed-up (soon-to-be-ex) wife. She's strong and appealing, and another highlight of this otherwise flimsy comedy.

It's inexplicable that 17 Again works from such an awful script, especially given that other movies have employed an almost identical premise and eventually became classics. Your tolerance of this Zac Efron vehicle will mainly depend on your tolerance of the young High School Musical star. This reviewer can barely tolerate Efron, but his presence was merely the tip of the iceberg. There's nary an ounce of originality (a deluge of 70s/80s films exhausted the concept), the humour is lazy, plot holes flourish, it isn't particularly clever, and director Steers barely manages to keep the film afloat. Still, it's far more bearable than I expected, mainly on account of Thomas Lennon as Ned.

4.8/10

"A rollercoaster is just elemental physics, a conversion of potential energy to kinetic energy."

By this entry in the Final Destination series, the central premise - the unstoppable force of the Grim Reaper stalking and slaying those who've evaded his scythe - had grown more than a little tired. Fortunately, the pleasure of these flicks has never had much to do with the story, but rather the visceral thrills they serve up - a new selection of spectacular, gory death sequences ensuring each entry to the franchise is as enjoyable as the one preceding it. Fortunately, too, each sequel thus far has belied its generic storytelling with advantageous upgrades in the filmmaking department. Final Destination 2, for instance, contained slick direction, marvellous visual effects and more believable death sequences. Final Destination 3 ups the ante in the gore department once again, as well as delivering a more appropriate, believable and all-round superior dénouement.

If you've seen the first two Final Destination flicks, you'll know the drill - an unsuspecting teen foresees a horrible disaster, takes steps to avoid this nasty end, and in the process saves a few lives. As a consequence, Death gets annoyed that his design has been messed up, and sets about offing those who cheated him. Final Destination 3 is no deviation from this template.
This time around, the Grim Reaper comes calling at an amusement park where a bunch of high schoolers are celebrating graduation. While climbing aboard the rollercoaster, young Wendy Christensen (Winstead) experiences a vivid, violent premonition of the rollercoaster running off the rails. In a fit of panic she disembarks the ride with a few others, and they all watch in horror as the rollercoaster actually malfunctions, running off the rails and making mince meat of those onboard. One-by-one, the Grim Reaper then begins to pick off those who cheated death in a string of elaborate "accidents" leading to an assortment of inventive violence and gratuitous female nudity.

The mythos of the Final Destination franchise has now grown quite stale, and Final Destination 3 feels like a redundant instalment of this now-thrice-told joke. A third entry to the series could have been an opportunity to solve the irritating mysteries surrounding these films, but once again it leaves us with more questions than answers. Where do the premonitions come from? What's so special about the people experiencing these visions? Is it possible to permanently cheat death? Final Destination 3 stubbornly refuses to expand the mythos and address these queries; using a large amount of gore as compensation. Not even Tony Todd returns to star as the enigmatic mortician again, which a true shame as Todd offered tantalising explication in the preceding instalments. Todd does, however, star in voice-only form during key scenes at the beginning and end, making him the only actor to be involved with all three instalments so far.

With the Final Destination blueprint growing sour, the creative team behind every instalment are required to push the envelope in new and inventive ways. For Final Destination 3, James Wong (who helmed the first entry) made a return to the director's chair. The script is also the joint effort of Wong, Glen Morgan and Jeffrey Reddick (all of whom penned the original film).
The premonition set-piece is yet another spectacular disaster; definitely on a par with those crafted in the previous films. Final Destination 3 also benefits from an element absent in the two predecessors: the innate creepiness of a carnival. The title sequence features images of out of control rides, a mechanical fortune-teller, and a chilling montage of sideshow attractions (upon close scrutiny, one will realise this sequence also foreshadows impending deaths). The swirling strains of a pipe organ set the stage for an uncertain experience, establishing a fitting atmosphere.

Final Destination 3 has been composed with tremendous skill. There's legitimate tension built up during the pre-death scenes, for instance. There is a formula associated with how the death scenes develop, but the fun lies in figuring out how a character's grisly demise will play out. The film's greatest assets are definitely Wong's skilled direction and Robert McLachlan's sublime cinematography. For the opening disaster sequence, McLachlan provides excellent POV imagery and intense shots of the rollercoaster as the chaos unfolds. Employing remote-control power pods with affixed mini-cameras, the cinematographer captured actual movement in the practical shots of the cast on the rollercoaster, resulting in an experience more frighteningly realistic and riveting than anything stationary cameras could deliver. Director Wong additionally insisted upon using the actual actors in as many of the action sequences as possible, thus presenting an audience with a more honest depiction of the horrifying events that befall the characters. Granted, some of the CGI shots are slightly sub-par (mainly suffering from poor contrast matching), but these are minor killjoys of an otherwise skilfully crafted sequence.

Without a doubt, the real stars of this franchise are the effects. Wong and McLachlan have skilfully taken the delivery of gore to a new level, showcasing gruesome deaths in excruciating detail. It's refreshing to see that some filmmakers understand the appeal of practical effects. The sole drawback of these sequences is that the deaths are occasionally CGI enhanced, and the CGI blood is usually quite obvious. Nonetheless, the killings are spectacular. Delivering creative, gory kills at every turn, this series caters to its target audience without insulting them - and that's probably why these flicks are so successful at the box office. At least the Final Destination films are more inventive than, say, the Friday the 13th series which stopped being interesting after the very first movie!

The central fault of every Final Destination film so far is simple: the characters are stereotypical cookie-cutters. Predictably, Final Destination 3 is no different. Although the two main characters (one male, one female) claim to not like each other, they naturally grow a bond and are virtually ready to proceed into romance territory. The high school conventions also come out to play: there's the egotistical jock, the completely air-headed girls, and the Gothic couple. Virtually none of these characters are developed past the first dimension, and little character development means they come across as caricatures rather than people. They're all interchangeable characters; included to provide the Grim Reaper with some folks to off. Just like the previous films, some of the characters are named after famous horror icons - Lewis Romero, Jason Robert Wise, etc.

No characters from previous Final Destination films make an appearance in this third film (except for Death of course), although there are multiple references to the events in the forerunners. Naturally, a good-looking girl is essential for films of this type. For Final Destination 3, Mary Elizabeth Winstead carries out the duties as the smart, attractive female protagonist. Young Winstead is a competent actress whose emotions seem genuine. Her hysteria after experiencing the premonition is frighteningly believable. She's definitely one of the more convincing horror movie heroines of recent memory. Winstead's male cohort is Ryan Merriman, whose prior acting experience is mainly in television. He's a generic young male, and the limits of his talent are never truly tested by the screenplay. The rest of the cast are decent without being remarkable, and they effectively carry out their primary function - i.e. moving the plot ahead to the next gruesome death sequence. There aren't any breakout performances in this film, but that isn't why you're watching this flick in the first place.

This is Sequelcraft 101 - if you enjoyed the first two Final Destination films, you'll most likely enjoy this one too. Final Destination 3 is enjoyable and technically sound, but the formula has been wringed too much and there isn't a slight trace of originality left in the plot department. If this series is going to continue, the filmmakers need to introduce something new into the tired formula. Nevertheless, for a sequel to a sequel, Final Destination 3 still doles out the goods in fine form. Not a perfect movie, but very tolerable and one helluva ride (c'mon, you knew that pun was coming). And think about it: how many Part 3s turn out to be anything besides awful?

Followed by Final Destination: Death Trip 3D in 2009. (Interestingly, Final Destination 3 was meant to be filmed in 3D but the process was deemed too complicated. For the fourth film, however, the filmmakers ultimately decided to use 3D technology.)

6.1/10

WARNING: This review may contain very minor spoilers.

Please note that this is a review of the illegal Wolverine workprint version which was leaked online at the beginning of April. It's understandable that people may find my views of this flick irrelevant as I haven't yet viewed the final cut, and some believe I have no right to judge this incomplete cut. Au contraire, my friends, as the official running time has been released and it's exactly the same length as the workprint version. Interestingly, Fox tried to cover their blunder (i.e. the film leaking online) by claiming 14 minutes were missing from the workprint. Curiously, their story soon changed to something totally different: 10 minutes are missing from the workprint, and these 10 new minutes have been inserted into the final cut to replace 10 particular minutes. Uh huh.

Unfortunately, Wolverine is completely beyond salvation. No amount of reshooting could salvage this mess. Nothing short of a complete remake with a totally new script and plotline, and a bunch of new actors could save this awful film.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine is a disaster of monumental proportions. It's a terribly written, badly directed, poorly acted motion picture. Honestly, I have no idea where I should begin...
Alright, first of all there's the screenplay. It's a string of clichés stitched together and passed off as a movie. The conventional romance subplot is incredibly cheesy and embarrassing, even concluding on the most clichéd note possible. Dialogue is another issue: it's AWFUL! I have no idea what's worse; the dreadful dialogue or the abysmal way the actors disperse it. Cheap attempts at humour are even thrown in! The script also skims through crucial character development and more or less eschews Wolverine's origins entirely! In the opening sequence, Wolverine is shown implementing his claws for what seems like the first time. This prologue is rushed; it's more confusing than compelling. The opening credits are then played as the film quickly dashes through the next hundred years of his life or something. Wolverine is never given the opportunity to come to terms with his mutations. Even after being pumped with Adamantium, he's automatically cool with it all. Oh, except for the customary "looking at self in mirror while testing abilities" TM scene which lasts one or two minutes.

Worst of all, Wolverine disrespects its comic origins. Marvel characters which have been introduced are quickly dispatched, and are poorly handled. Deadpool fans won't be able to finish watching the movie. Towards the end, they'll leave to vomit...then they'll go home. Perhaps Ryan Reynolds was the one behind the leak after he watched the incomplete version and realise how badly Deadpool has been treated. As a matter of fact, Deadpool's appearance is more of a cameo. As for Dominic Monaghan as Bolt...five minutes of screen-time at the most. Team X is broken apart just as quickly as it was formed. The team execute a single mission (happening on screen for about 10 minutes) before Logan leaves the group. No development. No fitting introduction. Due to the rushed nature of the opening few minutes, I stopped caring about all the characters. I only latched onto Wolverine on account of my familiarity with the character. As for everyone else...their deaths came as a relief. Every single character is flat and undeveloped; multiple infamous Marvel characters included in name-only form to entice the fans. On top of this, the continuity of the series is ruined! Some conversations in the earlier X-Men films now make little sense.

The script is also ridiculous beyond comprehension. Like the high profile facility on the mysterious "Island". Wolverine is able to simply walk through the front doors. What? No security? And when all hell breaks loose, a grand total of...four armed men come out to shoot at the heroes. Wolverine is beset with logic difficulties, mainly from the "Why don't you just...?" range and the "That's just totally stupid" range (like the aforesaid example). One should suspend their disbelief for a comic book movie, but this takes things to the next level. It's worse than your usual brainless summer actioner. Characters pop up at the most appropriate time, for instance (an entrance from a particular character during the final showdown is embarrassingly terrible and way too convenient...it will elicit groans). The film's concluding 10 minutes are absolutely retarded. Reshoots won't redeem the movie...but I hope if they did happen, they at least marginally improve this steaming shit.

Gavin Hood was behind 2007's Rendition, and his complete inability to direct an enjoyable and riveting motion picture surfaces here once again. The action sequences are frequently marred by silly slo-mo shots, and the film fails to latch out and truly engage you. There is action, but the spaces between the action sequences are sluggish. If adequate character development had been included, we'd feel more for the characters...but we don't, so the film is boring. The pacing is awful; and this is due to Hood's incompetent direction. Bring back Bryan Singer!

Not worth going into the performances, really. Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber are the only cast members who place forth decent performances. Everyone else is forgettable, mainly due to their shallow characterisations.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine is an appalling movie. It feels very rushed, and it's far too short to be considered an epic Marvel action film. The action sequences can be enjoyable and the two lead performances are decent, but it's truly lacking in every other department. I was not entertained very often and I was cringing 90% of the time. One-dimensional characterisations, muddled story, sluggish pacing, bad filmmaking and poor acting...need I say more?
If the final cut proves to be quite different to the workprint version, I'll be happy to post another review. Otherwise, this review will just receive touch-ups here and there. The fact remains, however, that unless a new director is hired to reshoot everything, a completely new script is written and most of the actors are replaced, this film will suck. BIG TIME! I'm not judging this workprint on the incomplete CGI, sound effects or music...as these things will not be enough to save this film.

This is the worst film of 2009 so far. It's so bad that even Uwe Boll will have trouble directing a worse movie. No longer will people have to refer to the Spider-Man 3 fiasco...now Wolverine will be the target of conversations concerning bad Marvel movies. X-Men: The Last Stand is even a superior film (in this reviewer's humble opinion).

Interesting trivia note: the temporary music for the workprint version has been sourced from Rambo and Transformers, and probably a few other movies as well.

2.5/10

"Look, I know this sounds crazy but... you guys all heard about Flight 180, right? The kid who got off the plane? Well, it happened a year ago, today. My premonition was just like his."

According to the Hollywood rulebook, a commercially viable motion picture should be succeeded by a sequel in order to capitalise on this success. The original Final Destination - a cult horror film about the Grim Reaper finishing his ghoulish work after a group of teens cheat death - contained no visible killer, as well as a tonne of creative, gory death sequences. The bearers of this franchise, realising a wallet-stuffing film series could be on the horizon (ala Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street), consequently green-lit this inevitable follow-up. Virtually none of the main characters from the first film lived to appear in the second, but this isn't a problem...the filmmakers merely needed to create a new batch of victims.

Less of a sequel, more of a retread...2003's Final Destination 2 adheres to the template of the original to the letter, replaying all the riffs and rhymes of its predecessor, from the wonderfully orchestrated deaths to the in-jokes (a few character surnames are again those of horror movie icons, such as Tim Carpenter and Kimberly Corman). This sequel to the 2000 horror sleeper actually works, however, emerging as a slick and downright enjoyable entry to the world of blockbuster cinema.

On the first anniversary of the Flight 180 tragedy (that transpired in the first Final Destination, for those unaware), a group of teenagers are driving to Daytona for Spring Break. Driving along Route 23, everything seems rather off (like the beginning of the first film). Kimberly Corman (Cook) then experiences a vivid vision of an apocalyptic pile-up. Petrified by her intensely real vision (or was it a premonition?), Kimberly uses her car to block traffic, which prevents the queue of motorists from being involved in this catastrophic road accident. Lo and behold, the pile-up actually occurs. By blocking traffic, Kim has caused another "rift" in Death's design. As the survivors come to terms with their lucky escape, Death begins to methodically pick them off and complete his work... In desperation, Kim turns to the sole survivor of the Flight 180 tragedy: Clear Rivers (Larter).

Those familiar with the original Final Destination will recognise this set-up. Final Destination 2, as previously stated, is extraordinarily derivative. The central concept - a string of precise, domino effect deaths - is starting to look tired. The unoriginal screenplay is additionally beset with hokey dialogue as well as being anorexic in the plot department. Unfortunately, as well, the characters are without adequate development. It's therefore quite difficult to genuinely feel for the characters (with the obvious exception of the three protagonists, purely because they're allotted the most screen-time) when they're stalked and dispatched by the Grim Reaper. The characters also arrive at conclusions about things far too quickly, the premonitions occur conveniently (eventually the sheer number of premonitions is ludicrous), and there are some pretty sappy moments throughout the flick.

On a positive note, Final Destination 2 surpasses its predecessor in one aspect - the kill sequences. The original Final Destination featured intricate, Rube Goldberg-esque deaths. For some of these sequences, the elaborate disposition made them truly preposterous. Several minutes were dedicated to building up the imminent death...and as a consequence, the actual death lost it shock value as it was no longer a surprise. Final Destination 2, on the other hand, offers far less complicated killings. In this sequel the whole domino effect technique is retained, but it's under normal circumstances that things go haywire, resulting in eventual deaths. Yes, these kill sequences are generally built up (the hospital, for instance), yet director David R. Ellis is a superior suspense-builder, and the eventual death remains unpredictable which in turn makes them more shocking. Once again, the filmmakers make no attempt to personify Death. Instead, the Grim Reaper remains a supernatural force capable of manipulating anything and everything. There's also a mind-blowing twist; tying the characters into the events of the original movie.

In the capable hands of first-time director Ellis, Final Destination 2 effectively elicits thrills at every turn. Ellis directs with flamboyance and assurance, utilising his experience as a second unit director to craft this slick horror/thriller. His compositions are inventive, slick and spectacular, hitting the ground running by kicking into high gear with a superbly-staged freeway pile-up (a true action tour de force). This jaw-dropping, chaotic motorway sequence has appeared on several "best car crash/accident" lists, and even acclaimed director Quentin Tarantino was quoted as calling it a "magnificent car action piece". For the death sequences the stunts are incredible, the special effects are marvellous, the CGI is seamless and the make-up department...had a proverbial field day. Exertions in all departments come together, conjuring up nail-biting tension. The competent filmmaking almost counterbalances the feebler moments.

The cast is once again comprised of young actors in their mid-twenties trying to pass themselves off as teenagers. And once again, the cast don't even bear a slight resemblance to actual teens.
Ali Larter reprises her role of Clear Rivers from the original film who's recruited to find a way to cheat Death's design for good. Like the first film, this actress is a saving grace. Her acting is solid, and she's very appealing.
In the new cast there's the extremely charming & beautiful A.J. Cook as the premonition-seeing Kimberly, and Michael Landes as a charismatic but generic police officer on Death's list. These two share adequate chemistry, but their eventual romance seems contrived and clichéd. Of the new cast, only Landes, Cook and T.C. Carson (as an uptight black man) bring any depth to their characters. The rest of the cast are quite cardboard, and they lack diversity. A more diverse congregation of actors, and perhaps a better-written group of characters would've made Final Destination 2 a real winner.
CineSchlockers will snap to attention nearly an hour into the movie when Tony Todd (of the Candyman fame) returns to reprise his role from the 2000 original. Todd is memorable as he delivers cryptic prognostications about Death's doings, generating a brilliantly dark mood.

For all its flaws, Final Destination 2 is a slick-looking and well-paced horror sequel. This violent, brutal genre schlock knows precisely what its target audience wants...and delivers it with cleverness and playful exuberance. Granted, the ending is silly, the novelty factor has diminished, there's little substance and plot is at an all-time low...but we don't seek logic or deep characterisations in a horror flick - we want to see people being killed on the most inventive and disgusting scale imaginable. On these terms, Final Destination 2 succeeds. Frankly, this sequel is about as good as its predecessor - equally as flawed, yet equally as enjoyable.

Followed by Final Destination 3 in 2006.

6.6/10

"You already cheated death by walking off the plane. Now you gotta out when and how it'll come back at you. Play your hunch, Alex. If you think you can get away from it. But beware the risk of cheating the plan, disrespecting the design... could initiate a horrifying fury that would terrorize even the Grim Reaper - and you don't even want to fuck with that MacDaddy."

By the year 2000, the slasher genre seemed to have utterly run out of steam given the disappointing final instalment in the Scream trilogy. Final Destination, however, ably proves that there's still life and originality left in the ailing sub-genre. Not a genuine classic by any means, and it's essentially B-Grade horror schlock infused with genre conventions and endowed with A-Grade production values, but this first chapter in what promises to be another never-ending horror saga is superior to your usual horror outing. Blending intriguing supernatural elements with spine-chilling moments and general gory carnage, Final Destination is an extremely entertaining, inventive Friday nighter. Stylishly filmed and tautly directed, this flick deals with a variety of fairly heavy topics which are discussed candidly by teenage characters (in accurately written "teen-speak" as opposed to highly intellectualised dialogue even Harvard scholars wouldn't use), all the while developing into a darkly foreboding, eerie suspenser.

The main story is built on a simple question: what if you cheated Death, but the Grim Reaper still demanded his due?
Alex Browning (Sawa) is a senior French high school student about to embark on a class trip to Paris with his fellow peers. At the airport prior to departure, everything seems a little off. Upon boarding the plane, Alex suddenly has a vision that the plane will explode after takeoff. His vision is so vivid and intensely real that it provokes a violent reaction. This causes a disturbance, and Alex is consequently booted off the plane along with a few other students as well as a teacher. They're furious with Alex's behaviour...but this emotion quickly changes when they witness the plane promptly exploding moments later, killing all on board. However, the seven who stepped off the plane have cheated Death, and Death wants to balance the ledger. Alex and his friends begin to be methodically hunted down by the forces of the Grim Reaper who's intent on collecting the souls of those who cheated him.

"In death there are no accidents, no coincidences, no mishaps, and no escapes."

After this set-up is established, the film indeed turns into a slasher movie, albeit a more thoughtful one than usual. Nobody takes their clothes off, and the usual invincible knife-wielding monster is replaced with the never-seen granddaddy killer of them all, the Grim Reaper. Final Destination doesn't use Death as a killer with superhuman abilities who must be overthrown by the protagonists...it's a truly unstoppable supernatural force instead. However, Final Destination succumbs to far too many genre clichés. The FBI agents are, of course, completely useless in the proceedings, and the adults are equally hapless. Also thrown in is an all-knowing mortician who babbles on for two minutes about "Death's design" (portrayed by none other than Tony Todd of the Candyman fame). The protagonists occasionally do boneheaded things (some characters practically walk into their death as opposed to being alert), and they usually act antagonistic towards one another for forced "tension". On top of this, the standard chase finale is silly, and it lacks intensity from time to time.

The mediation on fate found within the concept of Final Destination would most likely seem more appropriate for a foreign art film as opposed to a teen slasher flick. These provocative questions about premonitions and destiny are employed merely as a hook. The point of the film has nothing to do with the survivors coping with guilt and uncertainty (a potentially fascinating premise). It instead has other things on its mind: concocting graphic bloodbaths, and proving that death cannot be cheated. Final Destination is certainly serviceable as a teen slasher flick...but it's too clichéd, and the premonition aspect is barely touched on. Interestingly, the story was originally the concept for an abandoned X-Files episode.

At least the kill sequences are imaginative and enjoyably gory; evoking the spirit of Rube Goldberg. X-Files alum James Wong directs with style and flair, usually judging the timing of the shocks flawlessly (one particularly nasty road accident will leave audiences gasping with surprise), and in the opening 20 minutes he delivers one of the most devastating air disaster sequences ever committed to celluloid. However, Wong occasionally falters when the death sequences are elaborately built up. This is a fault of both those that choreographed these sequences as well as Wong's handling of the material. The kills are constantly far too elaborate to be believed, and the foreshadowing fails in building sufficient suspense. A "less is more" approach could possibly have proved more effective here. To the credit of everyone involved, though, the "don't go in there" syndrome never kicks in when a character is due to die.

"We're all on the same list."

It comes as no surprise that the "teenage" portion of the cast look more like adults in their mid-to-late twenties as opposed to 18-year-olds. As Alex Browning, Devon Sawa is appealing and subtle. Despite not looking like a teen at all, Sawa offers a certain believability that's beneficial during the film's key moments (after his initial premonition, he looks genuinely terrified). As Clear (the object of Alex's affection), Ali Larter is extremely effective. Ali is undeniably beautiful, but Final Destination never exploits the females of the cast, therein lying one of the best creative decisions of the entire film.
As the movie's resident asshole, Kerr Smith stars as Carter Horton. Alongside him, Seann William Scott places forth a surprisingly decent and charismatic performance as one of those who survives the plane disaster. He's the sort of person who gets inadvertently caught up in awful situations. He's also the only student not to leave the plane voluntarily. The rest of the cast is competent at best, including the requisite adult role (Kristen Cloke).
True fans of the horror genre will realise the characters are named after famous horror icons. For instance: Alex Browning (Dracula director Tod Browning), Larry Murnau (Nosferatu director F.W. Murnau), Agent Schreck (Nosferatu star Max Schreck), Agent Weine (Cabinet of Dr. Caligari director Robert Weine), Billy Hitchcock (Psycho and Rear Window director Alfred Hitchcock), as well as a few others.

In a genre normally devoid of wit, intelligence and originality, Final Destination is a diamond in the rough. Director James Wong's horror movie has the ability to shock (although these moments lose their effectiveness after repeated viewings) and surprise - two qualities rarely found in modern horror flicks. It's ultimately let down, however, by excessive genre clichés and some bad judgements on the part of the filmmakers in relation to some of the death sequences. Instead of a dark horror flick, Final Destination is unfortunately more of a teen slasher. Enjoyable as the latter, but it may have been a superior experience as the former. In spite of a few irritating shortcomings, this is probably the most innovative addition to the genre for years.

Followed by multiple sequels, beginning with Final Destination 2 in 2003.

6.7/10

"Well, you guys are fucked!
They wanted to give you 30 days in jail. But I worked my magic on the judge and instead over the next 30 days you have to log 150 hours of community service."

A fresh take on the standard buddy movie formula blended with sharp, irreverent writing and tight plotting, Role Models is a solid comedy carried by a steady stream of laughs, plenty of heart, and a cast that works incredibly well together. In this era of crass R-rated comedies, humour is generally subjective and reviews of modern comedies merely need to stretch "it's hilarious!" into multiple paragraphs (a sentiment not shared by all viewers, mind you). Fortunately, 2008's Role Models is more than your typical profane comedic trash - it's a good-natured, crowd-pleasing, fun and goofy comedy that merits a look beyond the sheer number of laughs. With competent direction by David Wain (also responsible for 2001's Wet Hot American Summer) and a clever, well-written screenplay, this flick is both eye-wateringly hysterical as well as sentimental without being overly saccharine-coated.

Danny (Rudd) and Wheeler (Scott) are representatives for the Minotaur Energy Drink Company. The two men travel to high schools promoting this caffeine-loaded energy drink as part of a "say no to drugs" program. Wheeler is the simple type who still enjoys empty one-night stands and loves his (dead-end) job. Danny, on the other hand, is a miserable, bitter, cynical bloke annoyed by everyone and everything. After a personal problem throws him off the deep end, Danny goes on a minor rampage which results in the duo's arrest. To avoid 30 days in prison, Wheeler & Danny are forced to perform 150 hours of community service at a charity - a big brother-style program called Sturdy Wings. They subsequently become mentors for troubled children. Their subjects: a foul-mouthed kid named Ronnie (Thompson), and a socially inept nerd named Augie (Mintz-Plasse) who wears a cape and participates in LARP (Live-Action Role-Playing).

Role Models doesn't reinvent the comedy genre or even the buddy movie genre; as a matter of fact, it adheres to the same old trite formula to the letter throughout its runtime. Most conventional is the concluding third which contains hackneyed musical montages (crammed with lamenting) and a predictable coming together in a triumphant event that proves the immature protagonists have changed for the better. Every puzzle piece (and the way they interlock) will be familiar to anyone who's seen this type of mainstream comedy before. Role Models is extremely formulaic, and the outcome is predictable from an early stage. However, a massive credit to the screenwriters (four all told, including director Wain in addition to actors Paul Rudd, Ken Marino and Timothy Dowling) is due - Role Models may be clichéd, but it's also hilarious and plenty of fun, and dull moments are at a minimum. Frequently amusing and extremely enjoyable, this is a great example of familiar comic material made fresh with affectionate irreverence.

The screenplay is a real winner. It's obvious this material was written with Rudd and Scott in mind (Rudd did co-write the thing) as the jokes are fine-tuned towards the stars' comic sensibilities. Role Models is permeated with the type of humour that will definitely offend some people. It may be particularly shocking to those who mistake this flick for a family-friendly comedy about two loveable guys mentoring two young rascals... This is instead a good-natured comedy saturated in raunchy humour and R-rated language. At the same time, though, it ain't all sex jokes and sophomoric locker-room banter, because Role Models additionally delivers a certain sentimental feel good-ishness that prevents it from being mere juvenile comical rubbish.
This picture also does a commendable job of not making LARPing appear totally un-fun. People really do spend their days dressed up like medieval warriors and battling each other, and the film is smart enough not to alienate or offend those involved in the activity it is eagerly lampooning. Sure, those involved in LARPing are just extremists deserving of ridicule, but the screenplay remains decidedly pro-nerd, which makes it seem genuine, and the whole thing is ultimately far more fun.

Another secret weapon of Role Models is the editing. The flick runs a sleek 100 minutes, and there isn't much fat. Mega-producer Judd Apatow's "everything-and-the-kitchen-sink" trademark has led to a number of overstuffed comedies (Knocked Up, Pineapple Express, Superbad, Walk Hard), but Role Models remains rather succinct. The film also doesn't linger on certain jokes. With this clever approach the gags are more understated.
This comedy does, however, hit a rough patch during its midsection where it lags, lacks laughs, and succumbs to screenwriting 101 templates to push it to the finish line. Fortunately, it finishes strongly (unlike, say, Step Brothers) and leaves us smiling when the credits begin to roll.

The screenplay and the direction work to make Role Models an entertaining comedy, but the cast bring everything to life. Every actor in the film brings a certain magic to their role, elevating the clichéd characters and making them seem like actual people. It's fantastic to see Paul Rudd top-lining a comedy after placing forth so many memorable supporting performances in films like Anchorman, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and The 40-Year-Old Virgin. His Danny is a wonderfully realised contemporary misanthrope. Rudd's deadpan approach and his natural charisma save Danny from being a totally unlikable creation. Seann William Scott is perfectly at home with this form of comedy. He's able to tap into the strong material and enhance it with his own comical talents; mixing charm, bewilderment, and stupidity into an amusing cocktail. Rudd and Scott have great chemistry, and play extremely well off of each other. But the duo are also sublime in their pairings with Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Bobb'e J. Thompson. Thompson and Mintz-Plasse match their (more experienced) co-stars every step of the way, with Thompson in particular developing into a genuine scene stealer. Mintz-Plasse has all the sincerity of a real LARP nerd, chuckling over silly jokes like "the whispering eye", and being deadly serious about the battles he and his "kinsmen" are due to fight in.
Best of all, though, is Jane Lynch's Sweeny who is a tad too proud of her formerly sleazy life and never misses an opportunity to mention it in conversations. Elizabeth Banks is also great as Danny's girlfriend, although she's fairly underused.

American comedies these days owe a huge debt of gratitude to Judd Apatow. Not only has this guy brought back the beloved R-rated breed of comedy, but he's scored multiple winners infused with heart and gags. Comedies like Forgetting Sarah Marshall and The 40-Year-Old Virgin have paved the way for similar films to follow. In fact it's surprising that Apatow's name isn't attached to Role Models considering its foul nature and R-rated language (speaking of Apatow, this film also contains many of his frequent collaborators). Even more surprising is that David Wain's movie is a case of playing Apatow's game better than he ever did it. Role Models is fun, witty, concise and funny, and it has stacks of heart. It's just a shame that there are too many clichés, and the stale formula remains unchanged. Fortunately, though, there are plenty of laughs to conceal its lack of originality...to an extent. Role Models remains a heartily funny diversion, served with believable characters and a few masterful KISS jokes.

7.4/10