Reviews by PvtCaboose91

There's something moralistically baffling about a balls-to-the-wall action flick that simultaneously celebrates violence and scolds an audience for celebrating violence...

This above sentence refers to The Condemned; a WWE-produced action film helmed by Scott Wiper (A Better Way to Die is another entry to this director's CV). Borrowing heavily from Battle Royale, The Most Dangerous Game and The Running Man, it's apparent that this derivative production won't merit any points for originality. That said, The Condemned is an exploitative and entertaining action film that delivers precisely what any viewer expects: graphic violence, pulse-pounding action, and muscular performers generally beating the absolute crap out of each other. It will never receive any Oscars (or any prestigious awards, for that matter), nor will it be deemed a masterpiece. In addition, this certainly isn't the greatest action flick the industry has to offer (it's a breeding ground for clichés, for instance, and there are too many missteps that prevent it from being anything overly special). However, if you're seeking a straightforward actioner crammed with mindless violence that doesn't pull any punches, then get together a few mates, order pizza, pop open a cold one and enjoy The Condemned.

WWE wrestler "Stone Cold" (a.k.a. Steven Austin) plays Jack Conrad; an American with a mysterious past who's incarcerated in an El Salvadorian prison. He's granted a reprieve, however, when ambitious reality television producer Ian Breckel (Mammone) selects him as part of his latest project. Ian acquires ten death row inmates from various global prisons and places them on a remote island. These condemned individuals are allotted thirty hours to fight each other to the death. The sole survivor of the bloodbath will be given freedom and sufficient cash to commence a new life. In essence, Breckel's show is reminiscent of the golden days of the Colosseum when gladiators fought to the death as a form of entertainment.
Meanwhile, as the violence unfolds, the camera-infested island broadcasts the legally questionable carnage across the internet. Anyone in the world willing to pay fifty bucks can witness this live snuff film.

The Condemned can be easily recommended to action movie connoisseurs. The mayhem is brutal, hard-hitting, entrenched in realism, and (despite a sagging middle act) in abundance. A few interesting action set-pieces make for enjoyable viewing, and the island (photographed in Queensland, Australia) is a great location for the chaos to unfold. Especially during the middle section there's far too much yakking in between the action, and the filmmakers seem to believe the best way to shoot fight scenes is to make them somewhat incomprehensible. The choreography is top-notch (crafted by Australian martial arts legend Richard Norton), but nearly every violent conflict is lensed with shaky, handheld camera...it all appears to be a nauseating blur. We see people pummelling each other, and we occasionally get a sense of who's who, but we usually have to wait for the fight to conclude before we can properly comprehend what actually transpired. The frenetic editing exacerbates this problem by cutting every nanosecond or so. Rectification of this problem was staring the filmmakers in the face: why not utilise the footage Ian Breckel and his team are capturing? Why not show the majority of a battle from the perspective of a paying viewer, watching the carnage from their computer? This'd make the action far more interesting and, honestly, more edifying. Unfortunately, outside of a bar full of Jack Conrad's friends, the film never shows anyone else who paid to watch this internet blood sport.

Director Scott Wiper, it seems, isn't quite satisfied with helming a mere exploitation film. The Condemned comes armed with a message: consumers love violence. People like the odious Breckel become rich as long as viewers flock to this stuff in droves. Years ago, this may have been considered provocative; today, however, it's trite, and it disastrously decelerates the pace.
Superfluous subplots also emerge in spades, proving very harmful to the pacing. Breckel's underlings constantly bicker as they are confronted with silly attacks of conscience. There's also a love story between Conrad and a girl back home. This exists purely as a foundation on which to build a corny happy ending. Naturally, the FBI also becomes involved. This addition, however, is shallow. The FBI ultimately does nothing useful. It isn't even properly exploited (imagine the possibilities of an FBI raid of Breckel's island...), therefore coming off as unnecessary.

Despite the aforementioned criticisms, the film isn't without its upsides. The Condemned remains a fairly enjoyable romp featuring one-liners and action, even if the adrenaline stops pumping for corny chit-chat every so often. Director Wiper has made a commendable creative decision to eschew digital effects and green screen, predominantly employing the WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) approach. As a result, the film feels far grittier.

A majority of the characters are stock personalities hardly developed past the first dimension. Character development doesn't exist beyond demonstrations of a character's fighting ability. It's extremely gruelling to keep up with who's been dispatched and who's still alive due to the congregation of mainly forgettable characters. The only truly memorable characters are Austin's Jack Conrad and Vinnie Jones' Ewan McStarley. Ultimately, after the other cookie-cutters have been eliminated in predictable ways, it's a duel between these two. Their climactic one-on-one conflict, though, is frequently baffling on account of the camera (which experiences an epileptic seizure any time there's an action sequence).

Steven Austin has a terrific screen presence owing to his hulking appearance. There's little doubt he has potential as a hero, but this is an unsuitable vehicle for the actor. Based on the evidence available here it's difficult to ascertain whether or not he's capable of delivering dialogue - aside from a few conversations (during which he's fairly soft-spoken) he doesn't have much to say.
Vinnie Jones, as always, is excellent. He's a menacing villain and certainly one of the highlights of this movie. Robert Mammone stars as the selfish reality television producer. He hits all the correct notes and comes across as pretty despicable. Other additions to the cast include Rick Hoffman (remember him from Hostel?), Tory Mussett (appearing under the name of Victoria Mussett), Manu Bennett, Madeleine West, Christopher Baker, Sam Healy, Luke Pegler, Emelia Burns and Dasi Ruz - all providing acceptable support. Most notable, though, is Masa Yamaguchi who seems extremely keen during his fight sequences.

Perhaps a re-edited version of The Condemned (removing the tedious and superfluous subplots) would accelerate the pacing and allow for more testosterone-fuelled entertainment. At two hours long, this movie is too lengthy and at times too gruelling. It needed a more concise running time, more action and less exposition. But there's still the problem of the camerawork...
For a film produced by WWE, The Condemned is better than expected...but this remains a faint praise. It's not as cheesy as John Cena's The Marine or as preposterous as Kane's See No Evil, but this had the potential to be a better movie. With a more competent director (as well as a superior cinematographer, for that matter) and a considerable trim, The Condemned could have fulfilled its potential. In the end, however, this picture gets enough right, and it's enjoyable without being too taxing.

5.9/10

Considering the astronomical box office intake for every CGI-animated picture Pixar has distributed as of 2006, the revolutionary animation studio has developed into the most commercially successful studio in history. Their first six feature films (beginning with 1995's Toy Story) were extensively considered to be instant classics from the moment their first digitally-rendered frames streaked across worldwide theatre screens. Yet more than mere dollars are in consideration here - Pixar pictures are resonant works of art which shall remain watchable and enjoyable for many subsequent generations. Each Pixar masterpiece is infused with genuine heart, timeless laughs and meaningful messages. Thus far, Pixar features have given voices to bugs, toys, monsters and fish...so why not cars?

Cars arguably marks the first true Pixar misfire. In addition, this 2006 picture is debatably the weakest animated feature to emerge from the virtual drawing board at this successful company. Not to say that Cars is a total disaster - by all accounts it's bright and creative, and is pervaded with a very intriguing concept indeed. This is also one of Pixar's greatest visual achievements to date, featuring state-of-the-art CGI animation bordering on photo-realism guaranteed to astound on a very high level. However, feeble screenwriting proves injurious - fewer laughs, lots of excess, and a cumbersome, predictable story that preaches the same ol' clichéd messages. It's too long and listless, and while adults may tolerate the excessive character development, the children - with their notoriously diminutive attention spans - may grow restless. Cars is a character-driven feature, therefore including fewer action scenes than most animated films. The kinetic energy of the initial racing sequences is unfortunately not sustained.

Cars transpires in a universe dominated entirely by automobiles (without any humans or animals...even flies are tiny cars with wings).
The story centres on cocky hotshot rookie race car Lightning McQueen (Wilson). In his first year of racing, Lightning has taken the prestigious Piston Cup by storm. Locked in a battle for the championship against two seasoned pros, the final race is set to be held in California. En route across the country to compete in this final race, Lightning becomes waylaid in the small forgotten town of Radiator Springs after inadvertently mangling the main street during a police pursuit. In a subtle homage to Cool Hand Luke (starring Paul Newman, who lends his voice to the cantankerous old Doc Hudson), Lightning is sentenced to repair the main street through days of gruelling labour. As Lightning begins befriending the townsfolk (towncars?) of Radiator Springs, the conceited race car begins to realise that perhaps there's more to life than winning. The question soon arises: when he attends the big race will be maintain his newfound values or revert to his old ways?

As we learn during the final showdown, the title Kiss of the Dragon is derived from a method of killing - it essentially involves the insertion of an acupuncture needle into a "very forbidden" point on the body, trapping the body's blood supply in the head which consequently triggers bleeding from the head's orifices and a very painful death via a brain aneurysm. Guess who's going to implement the Kiss of the Dragon?

Kiss of the Dragon was reportedly rushed into production due to Jet Li's fans requesting more realistic fight sequences. In the post-Matrix days of filmmaking, traditional martial arts movies are usually permeated with Matrix-style trickery to spice up action scenes. Thankfully, Kiss of the Dragon avoids falling victim to this unfortunate plague. This is old-fashioned butt-kicking martial arts material, using digital effects rarely and featuring wire-work only once. Unlike Jackie Chan who combines martial arts skills with comedic flair, Jet Li provides straight-up action minus any comedy - he's far more interested in generating an adrenaline rush. There is no deeper meaning to this particular movie; it's just professional, well-staged action filmed with a certain stylistic elegance.

Predictably, Kiss of the Dragon lacks a truly intricate story. This is a straightforward action affair, produced purely with the intention of showcasing Jet Li's talents as a martial artist. It admittedly lacks motivation and logic, but never mind. In a motion picture featuring physical action bordering on impossible, why should the plot be reasonable and credible?
Top Beijing government agent Liu Jian (Li) is sent on an assignment in Paris to assist in a drug-smuggling bust (or something of that nature...the whole plot is frustratingly vague). Not long after his arrival in France, Jian becomes the patsy when he's framed for a double murder by the ruthless French investigator Jean-Pierre Richard (Karyo), who has a limitless supply of henchmen at his disposal. Unsurprisingly, Jian escapes the clutches of Richard and goes on the run in a desperate attempt to prove his innocence. For the rest of the picture, Jian attempts to extricate himself from the (dodgy) frame-up, eventually developing a reluctant partnership with hooker Jessica (Fonda).

Kiss of the Dragon tantalisingly opens without a single drop of exposition in an energetic, sustained set-piece following Jian's initial arrival in Paris. As the plot arrives, the film grows moronic when the script refuses to explain itself. What is Richard's connection to the Chinese? Why has he bothered to abduct the child of an immigrant hooker as collateral when he kills everyone else? Furthermore, why doesn't anyone bother to dispose of incriminating evidence instead of locking it in a drawer?
Tchéky Karyo as Richard (a fundamental doppelganger of Sean Bean in GoldenEye) barely reaches the first dimension. During all his villainous acts of killing and barking strict orders, he forgets to have a motivation. What is the point of framing Jian? Why did he murder those involved in this drug ring of sorts?

As the thrilling action-packed ride unspools, the film appears to focus exclusively on the action scenes. The hero is a one-dimensional single-man army, taking on multiple brainless enemies simultaneously and always coming out on top. Horribly lazy plotting emerges when Jian and Jessica meet. We're not only expected to believe a top government agent has been framed, but also that this prostitute just happens to work the streets where Jian is temporarily residing. This is a coincidence of monumental proportions, and it's simply too ridiculous to be believed. Character development doesn't exist beyond a few cheesy emotional exchanges between the protagonists, and therefore it's impossible to get involved with the characters. Also, as Jet Li works his way through a buffed brigade of baddies with more and more elaborate martial jousting, it begs the question: why doesn't someone just shoot the trouble-maker?

Kiss of the Dragon was co-written and co-produced by Luc Besson, known for a number of past hits including Leon (The Professional), The Fifth Element, and La Femme Nikita (just to name a few). But despite the efforts of the usually reliable Besson, Kiss of the Dragon is a cookie-cutter of a script for a well-trodden genre. Clichés abound, and the whole thing is predictable from the word go. All action movies are predictable, granted, thus it's all about the execution. In this case the characters are flat, the dialogue is banal, and the gaps between action sequences continually bog.

First-time director Chris Nahon has managed to imbue the visuals with a satisfyingly dark and gritty tone; successfully utilising the Parisian locations to great effect. Veteran action coordinator Cory Yuen is responsible for the creation of a handful of beautifully choreographed and superbly performed action sequences. These fight scenes are genuine masterpieces, helped in no small part by the athletic Jet Li. The final result when stringed together, however, is watchable and exhilarating but ultimately somewhat forgettable.

Luc Besson is one of a group of French directors who believe that in order for a French movie to succeed on the international stage, it must be successful in the United States. Consequently, even though this flick was filmed in and takes place in Paris, virtually everyone speaks English. Mainstream movie-goers will therefore be none the wiser, thinking it's just another Hollywood production...which is precisely Besson's intention. It is absurd watching Frenchman and Chinese speaking English to each other, though.

Jet Li's performance is top-notch. Kiss of the Dragon seems keen to establish Li as the next big martial arts star. He oozes charisma and coolness, and he actually has acting ability (instead of someone like Steven Seagal, who's generally sluggish and might easily be mistaken for a wooden post). Not only is Li unbelievably athletic and able to perform kicks and thrusts with blazing speed, but his screen presence is likable.
Bridget Fonda makes an endearing companion who brings out Jian's humanity and becomes unintentionally involved in the proceedings. To the credit of the screenwriting community, there is no love interest developed between Fonda and Li. Also, predictably, Ms. Fonda isn't granted much in the heroics department... In fact, she's just there - a fundamental add-on with little genuine involvement with the story-line. Her screen presence is sufficiently amiable, but she more or less comes off as just a plot device to provide Li with an excuse to exercise his fighting skills for a reason other than exonerating his own name.
Meanwhile, Tchéky Karyo plays the role of the bad guy with aplomb; creating a type of bastard we'll have no difficulty despising. Burt Kwouk (of the Pink Panther fame) makes a brief appearance, and makes the most of his screen-time. Cyril Raffaelli is also given the opportunity to demonstrate his skills as a martial artist. In fact, on only one occasion were wires used for fight scenes - when Raffaelli and Li verse one another. Wires were utilised to slow down their movements as the two performers were too fast for the camera to track them!

Instead of being endowed with any real plausibility or any serious motivation for the events, Kiss of the Dragon merely offers a state of affairs whereby Li can showcase his skills as a martial artist...and he does a splendid job at it! The film's first ten minutes ran my hopes high. Had it developed a solid story, exhibited an ounce of credibility, or even delivered a quick dash of tongue-in-cheek humour, Kiss of the Dragon could have completely fulfilled its potential. Its auspicious premise instead quickly transforms into yet another action spectacle featuring comic-book heroes and sinister villains. If that's all you expected, you'll probably get a kick out of it. If you expected something more (Luc Besson did co-write the story!), you'll find Kiss of the Dragon a simple, mindless, enjoyable guilty pleasure (like I did). It gets the adrenaline rushing during the action sequences, but it's short on plot, credibility and characterisation. This is exclusively for dedicated Li fans and/or martial arts film fans.

1998's Meet Joe Black is not everyone's cup of tea. A polarising feature, it underperformed at the box office, earning mixed reviews before ultimately fading into obscurity. Some may call the film plodding due to its three-hour length, while others might find it hokey or cliché, but, in the eyes of this reviewer, the experience of Meet Joe Black is enrapturing. Directed by Martin Brest (Beverly Hills Cop), the movie is fundamentally a remake of 1934's Death Takes a Holiday, using the basic premise as a jumping off point to create a captivating romantic drama with thematic undercurrents relating to mankind's mortality. It's a carefully-designed motion picture that requires patience and tolerance, but it's also rewarding, making for grand entertainment for those in the right mood.

A successful corporate tycoon and multi-millionaire, William Parrish (Anthony Hopkins) is only a few days away from celebrating his 65th birthday. Already anxious due to his advanced age and all of his work-related responsibilities, Bill is further troubled by occasional chest pains, accompanied by a mysterious voice inside his head. Before long, Bill is visited by the Grim Reaper, adopting the name Joe Black (Brad Pitt), personified in the body of a recently-deceased young man. Informing Bill that he's dying, Death explains that he wants to tour the world as a mortal human, and wishes for Bill to be his tour guide. As long as the Grim Reaper stays interested on his "holiday," Bill will be able to continue living, but Death will take Bill with him when he returns to the "next place." During his self-appointed vacation, Death learns valuable lessons about humanity, in addition to learning about love as he develops strong feelings for Bill's daughter Susan (Claire Forlani).

Without a doubt, death is the greatest sadness faced by humanity, as every single one of us is going to die one day. Meet Joe Black explores the question of what one would do if you knew that your life has come to an end. Bill begins to contemplate what means the most to him in life, scheduling family dinners on a daily basis, tying up loose ends, and generally soaking up the time that he has left. Even though the picture clocks in at around three hours, it earns its extensive length, spending adequate time on character development and giving the various narrative threads the breadth they required. We get to know all of the characters honestly and authentically, and become invested in their subplots. The screenplay has received criticism for the ostensibly inconsistent treatment of the Grim Reaper, as he often seems childlike and awkward, but at other times he's strangely knowledgeable about certain things. However, the fact that Death is an enigma is one of the most interesting aspects of the movie. What if his childlike demeanour is an act to keep Bill on his toes? What if he's only picked up tiny bits and pieces during his existence? We do not need to get into Death's head and know what makes him tick - we are experiencing the oddity of seeing a human Death alongside the characters, and Brest does not give viewers additional information.

Despite its spiritual and supernatural trappings, Meet Joe Black is imbued with a fairy-tale quality, as well as a dose of poetic humanism. Although the $90 million budget is absurd for a drama of this ilk, Brest's construction of the film is magnificent, shooting with purpose a maintaining a steady pace throughout. There's immense visual allure to Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography, making wise use of the grand set design, while the editors were unafraid to hold onto shots of characters as their expressions say a thousand words. Some may find the movie plodding, but there's a brilliant rhythm to the picture. Perhaps the definitive touch is Thomas Newman's score, which is breathtaking and extraordinarily well-judged. It adds another layer to the fine movie, amplifying the intended feel of practically every scene without being too intrusive. It's some of Newman's finest work. Miraculously, Meet Joe Black at no point feels overly corny or saccharine. Some may scoff at the seriousness with which Brest approaches the material, but this reviewer gets lost in the sincerity of the enterprise. There is also some wry humour throughout, which prevents the film from becoming a dour experience.

Anthony Hopkins, it would seem, is incapable of delivering a dud performance. This role affords Hopkins a number of scenes in which he can convey the humanity and reflection of a man who has lived a great life, but is forced to come to terms with the fact that it's drawing to a close. Hopkins is strong-willed as William Parrish; he's somewhat comical at times, while intimidating and chilling at other times. Above all else, Hopkins turns Bill into a warm and wise father, making the character wholly believable. Brad Pitt is also enormously effective as Death, playing the role with admirable conviction. His demeanour is beautifully understated, naïve and unique, and he conveys Death's arc as he grows to learn what it means to be human. Meanwhile Claire Forlani is engaging and beguiling as Bill's daughter Susan, while top-shelf support is provided by Marcia Gay Harden and Jeffrey Tambor. Tambor is especially good, as he's highly amusing.

I cannot help but sing praise for Meet Joe Black, which reimagines Death Takes a Holiday in a fresh, grand fashion. I love the lingering scenes, the deliberate pacing, the fullness of the narrative, and the way that the characters are richly developed, making this a movie that I frequently watch. While it may have been superior with a tauter screenplay, the movie in its current form is simply sublime. It's not for everyone, but what movie is? It's a beautiful experience for those willing to give themselves over to its meditations on life, love and loss, and it's full of majesty, wisdom, and old-fashioned storytelling. Long but curiously never boring, and spiritual but never soggy, this is a brand of cinematic entertainment that Hollywood rarely gets right.

8.9/10

Unofficially billed as Clint Eastwood's swansong to acting, Gran Torino is an arresting and poignant drama infused with Eastwood's brilliantly distinctive filmmaking style. Eastwood's second directorial undertaking for 2008 (previously helming Changeling) and his first screen performance since 2004's Million Dollar Baby, Gran Torino is an excellently written, well-performed character study of racism and redemption that fits contentedly beside the rest of Eastwood's cinematic oeuvre. This is a potent, effective and emotionally affecting drama - it's slow-paced yet subtly engaging, moderately unexciting yet it's virtually impossible to lose interest and it's never boring. Working from a script penned by first-time screenwriter Nick Schenk, Eastwood has utilised old-school (albeit somewhat outdated) filmmaking techniques to convey this gripping tale. Gran Torino doesn't offer avant-garde visual effects or glossy action sequences - it offers Clint "I'm still badass at 78" Eastwood, meticulous characters, and first-rate storytelling. It merges compelling drama with terrific subtle humour, and the product is simply outstanding.

Gran Torino stars Clint Eastwood as disgruntled Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski. Walt is a widower; a grumpy, tough-minded, unhappy old man whose family relationships are shaky, and who's openly racist against his Hmong neighbours - maintaining a rich passion for bigotry since enduring dark days in the Korean War. This prejudice explodes when Thao (Vang), the teenage son of the Hmong family next door, tries to steal Walt's prized possession - a 1972 Gran Torino, kept in mind condition - as part of a gang initiation. Several days later, upon observing a violent predicament concerning Thao, Walt feels compelled to intervene (in a classic Eastwood stand-off), and ultimately earns the respect of the Hmong community. Despite initially disliking the culture, this post-9/11 version of Dirty Harry Callahan warily develops a relationship with his neighbours. Walt aims to reform Thao, and soon begins taking steps to protect the Hmong family before the gang activity worsens. Serious questions soon begin to arise...questions of responsibility, of retribution...of the efficacy of blood for blood.

The majority of Gran Torino involves Walt coming to terms with his new Hmong buddies. Despite originally reluctant to befriend them due to his openly racist perspective, he eventually grows respect for them. The movie's supreme moments depict Walt finding his footing at Hmong congregations, failing socialisation prospects, but lovin' the cooking. The crux of the story belongs to Walt and Thao as they develop a special bond. The relationship isn't played for Odd Couple chortles, but as an unlikely father/son partnership with Thao learning to improve his life through gruelling work and learning to avoid the lure of crime. While Bee Vang's performance appears to lack polish, this relationship remains an absorbing central piece of the Gran Torino puzzle.

The Negotiator is of a rare breed - an action-thriller relying on suspense generated by lots of dialogue, several superb plot twists and a selection of brilliant, dominant performances rather than a surplus of explosive, over-the-top action sequences. This first-rate white-knuckle thriller is virtually a non-stop venture into tension. Once the (somewhat clichéd) set-up has been established, the film kicks into high gear and moves at an invigorating fast pace; ably keeping a viewer engrossed until its fantastic dénouement. The Negotiator adheres to the classic Die Hard formula - i.e. a protagonist trapped in a nasty situation; compelled to employ his wits and heroics. This enthralling production deserves to be considered one of the best action-thrillers since Die Hard, and is a Dog Day Afternoon of the '90s.

Inspired by a real-life case involving the St. Louis police, The Negotiator is endowed with the premise of a falsely accused man who's forced to violate the law in order to prove his innocence.
Expert hostage negotiator Danny Roman (Jackson) is a respected member of the Chicago Police Department. When he learns too much information regarding police corruption in his own precinct, Roman's partner is murdered. Subsequently, Roman is unjustly framed for the murder and framed for embezzling retirement funds. Recently married but possibly facing a lifetime in prison, Roman is desperate to prove his innocence. In a last frantic attempt to exonerate himself, Roman takes four hostages. His goal: to intimidate the guilty cops into telling the truth and clearing his name. Aware that there are heavily corrupt cops in his precinct, Roman demands to talk to hostage negotiator Chris Sabian (Spacey) who has no affiliation with his precinct and who's recognised for his anti-violence creed. What ensues is an enthralling situation as two accomplished negotiators lock in an intense battle of wits. In the midst of this, Roman endeavours to expose the real crooks and convince Sabian of his innocence.

Throughout its undeniably lengthy 160 minutes, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a captivating, heartfelt, jubilant and melancholy experience - beautiful to observe and overflowing with a sense of marvel and wonder. Based on F. Scott Fitzgerald's short story, this strange, ambitious saga of a man who ages in reverse is presented in an immaculate classical style; every detail tended to with fastidious devotion. Director David Fincher has renounced the serial killer/psycho/dark side of humanity movies he's recognised for in order to undertake this stunning drama. It's Fincher's background - not to mention his reputation as a confirmed cynic - that makes him an intriguing choice of director, and the right man for the job. Some directors would have grasped the premise and crafted a hefty Kleenex workout, but Fincher infuses the film's more emotionally touching scenes with an acquiescent acceptance that life simply has its ups and downs. Screenwriter Eric Roth (perhaps most famous for Forrest Gump) uses Fitzgerald's source material as mere inspiration - taking just the idea and name. From there Roth's script follows a path divergent to the one mapped by Fitzgerald. This filmic adaptation is therefore its own entity. Flaws aside, this is one of the most engrossing, intriguing and emotionally resonant features of 2008.

During its three-hour runtime, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button takes its audience on a tour of the 20th century, although it begins in the 21st. The film opens in New Orleans. As Hurricane Katrina closes in, Daisy (Blanchett) - an elderly woman - lays on her deathbed, attended by her daughter Caroline (Ormond). Caroline begins to read the diary of a certain Benjamin Button, who grew younger as the years passed by, and whose life repeatedly intersected with that of her mother's.
Throughout the course of his life, Benjamin travels through such eras as the Great Depression and World War II. His story is no Forrest Gump journey, however - the character isn't placed in any obvious historical or pop cultural moments, nor is he ever on television or globally renowned for his uniqueness. Benjamin's life is one lived out of the public eye, as befits a man steadily growing younger as the years elapse.
Benjamin was born in 1918. His case is a curious one as he was born arthritic, deaf and withered - as if in his late eighties. Unable to cope with the monstrous appearance of his son, Thomas Button (Flemyng) abandons him. Raised under the monument of a train station clock that runs backwards (a brilliant side story, and a Fitzgeraldian metaphor if ever there was one), Benjamin is raised by a caretaker at an old folk's home as he continues to grow younger and learn valuable lessons.

Button's relationship with Daisy functions as the fulcrum on which the film rests. We observe Benjamin's journey through life as he experiences different occupations and situations, but it's his recurring bond with Daisy (whom he meets when they're both technically children) that provides the film with its heart...and heartbreak.

Following the unexpected success of the hit South African cult-comedy The Gods Must Be Crazy, a sequel was inevitable. Thus, Jamie Uys (who was responsible for virtually everything behind the camera of the original film) commenced work on the suitably-titled The Gods Must Be Crazy II. Uys was visibly determined to replicate the success of the original film with this follow-up - he reportedly spent in excess of four years developing this sequel in order to script, location-scout, cast and direct. After all this drudgery, it's quite unfortunate to behold the tragic result. The Gods Must Be Crazy II bares the strain it endured to facilitate its journey to the big screen - the film is desperately simple and not very funny. It's a pale aping of its predecessor, employing the same style and similar gags in its conveyance of a lacklustre story. Perhaps it's no shock that this sequel isn't at all fresh - the surprise is that it's a disheartening catastrophe...witless, crude, lethargic and, frankly, quite boring.

The storyline is merely a collection of three hokey subplots, much like the original film. The Gods Must Be Crazy II abides by the same formula of its predecessor to the letter - i.e. a handful of unrelated stories somehow converging by the film's end. The opening sequence is effectively a precise replica of the first film, with the same dulcet narrator providing insights into the idyllic lifestyle of the Kalahari Bushmen. The first subplot once again concerns our beloved Bushmen hero Xixo (N!xau). Elephant-ivory poachers have invaded the Kalahari Desert. Xixo's two children become accidental stowaways on a truck belonging to this pair of sinister (if somewhat incompetent) poachers. The intrepid Xi aims to save his children and sets out to track the vehicle.

Meanwhile, a New York Doctor of Law - Ann Taylor (Farugia) - travels to South Africa to deliver a paper at a seminar. But, as a consequence of some fast developments, she agrees to take a brisk aerial safari and her plane subsequently crashes. Ann is therefore trapped in the middle of the Kalahari Desert with a zoologist by her side.
As for the third subplot: an African soldier (Tshabalala) and a Cuban freedom fighter (Bowen) find themselves in an arresting stalemate when they have trouble discerning who has captured who. These two soldiers (I think) symbolise the foolishness of war.
A mindless slapstick feast ensues as these stories unite.

It seems that during the creation of The Gods Must Be Crazy II, Jamie Uys was in a state of being out of touch. The film is extraordinary short on comedy, even if filled with routines intended to be funny. Quality laughs are hard to come by in this dreary sequel. Uys' direction also lacks energy. As a result, it drags. The film is additionally permeated with Wild Kingdom footage of exotic creatures (meerkats, hyenas, etc), most of which has quite obviously been photographed separately from the actors they're supposed to be sharing scenes with. Most likely an intentional technical fault for a chortle, but it's overused...and employed poorly.
In addition, the upgraded technicals remove the raw charm of the original (by that I mean the special effects look less dodgy, and there are far more special effects). The technical improvements are for the worst, unfortunately.

The Gods Must Be Crazy II is laden with the same type of humour that filled the original film - there's plenty of slapstick, pratfalls, and film alterations (i.e. fast-motion). The comedy doesn't quite gel as well the second time around. The silent-comedy routines of the original have transformed into relentless, frequent "comedy" sequences sped-up and with stupid sound effects - it's the equivalent of watching South Africa's Unfunniest Home Videos! The over-civilised heroine also has her skirt lifted frequently. The result falls in jarring territory between Crocodile Dundee and Benny Hill.
Additionally, the romantic leads are deficient in the type of wacky, amusing, but genial chemistry that the principal actors from the first film had in abundance. The humour also seems more contrived, and while watching this flick - no matter how entertaining it gets from time to time - it still registers as just another redundant, fluffy sequel.

There are countless faults, but The Gods Must Be Crazy II certainly isn't a total disaster. It still retains a sense of fun, adventure, and breezy charm now and again, even if it has difficulty sustaining interest and engaging a viewer.
There's also great joy in revisiting N!xau as Xixo, and hearing that wonderful click language again. Even at the film's lowest point, N!xau is still most watchable.

At the end of the day, The Gods Must Be Crazy II lacks the simple warmth and delightful charm of its predecessor. The central problem here is that it employs a well-worn formula, with the same kind of comedy reapplied. Its amplified sophistry is less appealing, and in the long run the film seems a rather superfluous effort. It's moderately pleasant viewing for sure and occasionally quite amusing, but it's not a patch on the original and, in the long run, it's just a simple time-waster. As the sun sinks gradually on The Gods Must Be Crazy II, everybody shares a disappointed yawn.

Followed by a few more unsuccessful sequels.

4.5/10

The Gods Must Be Crazy is a reassuringly unique and delightfully disarming little cinematic treasure. This low-budget 1980 South African comedy emerged virtually out of no-where; silently tiptoeing into worldwide cinemas to become one of the biggest international hits of the decade! Owing to enthusiastic word of mouth, The Gods Must Be Crazy broke box office records in Japan, South America and all over Europe, eventually developing into a cult favourite. Written, produced, directed, filmed and edited by Jamie Uys, this pseudo-documentary is fundamentally a National Geographic special infused with hysterical slapstick and amusing scenarios depicting culture clashes. With its light-hearted slapstick tone, inventive cinematic techniques and splendid locations, this is a sweet pleasure guaranteed to provide a wonderful evening of delightful entertainment.

In a nutshell: The Gods Must Be Crazy concerns the misadventures of Xixo (played by African tribal actor N!xau). The story begins with a soothing, oh-so-BBC narration describing the idyllic lifestyle of the Kalahari Bushmen. These people are a primitive race whose lives are simple and contented, and they are neither greedy nor cruel. They hunt for food, they share everything with each other, and their lives lack any sort of technology. Their blissful isolation and obliviousness is drastically disrupted when a careless airplane pilot tosses a Coca Cola bottle out the window while in flight above the Kalahari. The bottle spins elaborately to earth, landing near Xi during a hunting expedition. Believing it to be a gift from the Gods, the tribe employ this Coke bottle for dozens of uses: it becomes a fire-starter, a cooking utensil, a musical instrument, a patternmaker, and - most of all - an object of bitter controversy. The bottle generates jealously, greed and violence, igniting Xi's decision to return this evil object to the Gods by throwing it off the edge of the earth. Xi therefore embarks on a long odyssey, experiencing the civilised world for the very first time.
Meanwhile, journalist Kate Thompson (Prinsloo) accepts a remote teaching post in a Botswana school. Upon arrival, she's met by micro-biologist Andrew Steyn (Weyers) who immediately takes a liking for her.
There's also a minor problem with a terrorist leader and his gang of bandits who are being pursued by government militia. Needless to say, these separate stories become utterly intertwined by the time the film reaches its climax.

Contemporary Hollywood thrillers are distinctly separated into two categories: visceral thrillers (which are dependent on action to generate tension and excitement), and intellectual thrillers (which rely on smart plot twists, dialogue and fascinating characters). Michael Clayton, the directorial debut of screenwriter Tony Gilroy, firmly belongs in the latter category. Prior to writing and directing this masterful thriller, Gilroy was primarily recognised for scripting the Jason Bourne movies. Michael Clayton is a breath of fresh air in modern-day Hollywood. Gilroy is of a dying breed; a screenwriter capable of penning intelligent blockbusters (The Bourne Ultimatum) and intellectual thrillers (like the film in question). Michael Clayton unfolds at its own pace and permits few concessions to impatient viewers or those not paying attention. Gilroy's script implores a viewer to contemplate every inch of film on offer, and connect the dots without much assistance. Michael Clayton is essentially a legal thriller that unites a tense battle of wits and a sinister government conspiracy. It's ardently dialogue-driven, thus action junkies are advised to avoid at all costs.

Michael Clayton (Clooney) is an in-house "fixer" for one of the largest corporate law firms in New York. He's an important asset to said firm - the go-to guy when clients are in hot water. When things go south, Michael is appointed to clean it up. He's at the top of his field, but he abhors his job and wants out.
U-North is among the leading clients of Michael's law firm. They're a chemical company locked in a six-year long class action lawsuit against a group of people who have contracted cancer as a result of the company's pesticides. For U-North, the case look promising until lead attorney Arthur Edens (Wilkinson) suffers a nervous breakdown and is struck with an attack of guilt. He's smitten with one victim (Wever), and begins assembling evidence to prove U-North's guilt. Michael's boss - Marty Bach (Pollack) - orders Michael to intervene and resolve the situation.
U-North's primary litigator - Karen Crowder (Swinton) - grows suspicious of Arthur and Michael; believing they could cause the lawsuit to crumble. She therefore begins her own investigations. The potential three billion dollar lawsuit would be enough to break U-North, and the company are willing to do anything to ensure their best interests are served. But a corporate battle quickly transforms into something much more sinister, and the assignment to clean up the Arthur situation turns out to be a job Michael shouldn't have accepted.