Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"I am the law! Put down your weapons and prepare to be judged."

The greatest cinematic guilty pleasures in history generally feature an 80's action hero as its primary acting talent. Sylvester Stallone is a particularly habitual purveyor of guilty pleasures. Think Cobra, or the second & third Rambo movies, or Tango & Cash. The film in question - 1995's Judge Dredd - is yet another classic example of a guilty pleasure featuring the muscle-bound performer. This isn't a perfect film by any means - in fact from a critical standpoint this is an awful movie. It's inane, stupid, brainless and derivative. Nevertheless, it's irresistibly entertaining, enjoyable and fun. Stallone packs his muscular body into the gold-plated, armoured uniform of Judge Dredd. As this "Judge", he has the privilege of being judge, jury and executioner rolled into one. The whole movie is built around this concept - Stallone fundamentally deals out justice in a futuristic dystopian metropolis for 90 minutes.

Judge Dredd is based on a popular British comic book strip. This comic book atmosphere is retained, although it's fairly cartoonish at times. I'm not accustomed to the source material, thus I can't testify to the level of fidelity, but a majority of the visuals evoke a comic book atmosphere - from the campy costumes to the imitative production design and the corny one-liners. In all honesty, Judge Dredd occasionally seems like a futile retread of Demolition Man.

You want chaos? I'm the chaos. You want fear? I'm the fear. You want a new beginning? I'm the new beginning!

The film is prefaced with a prologue - an opening title reel outlining the story so far. This is the first shred of evidence substantiating the fact Judge Dredd aspires to be Star Wars, made far more obvious with the authoritative, bellowing voice of James Earl Jones to accompany.
The story commences decades into the future when society has deteriorated. In an inevitable amalgam of Mad Max 2 (a.k.a. The Road Warrior) and Blade Runner, crime has flourished to an uncontrollable extent and the "Cursed Earth" is a desolate wasteland. In order to battle crime more efficiently, Judges patrol the streets - they "judge" the criminals they encounter, dishing out an appropriate sentence; be it several years of incarceration or immediate execution. During the action-packed opening sequence, the audience is introduced to Judge Dredd (a suitably lean, gruff, burly Stallone). Dredd is the most formidable and revered of the Street Judges - emotionless, relentless, and merciless. Following this character establishment, a plot (if it can be called that) emerges: a murderous former judge (Assante) hatches a sinister plan to overthrow the government and eliminate the Judges, instead substituting them with clones of himself. Let the chaos and mayhem begin...

"Court's adjourned!"

Limitless plot holes are easily noticeable, and the absurd disposition of the vague plot almost insults the intelligence. Example of a plot hole: early into the film, Dredd explains bullets aren't effective past two hundred metres. However, in truth, as long as a bullet has gravity to guide it, its force won't be weakened until it hits something! Also, villains in the film try so hard to be sinister that they forget to have an adequate motivation.

"The Judge's standard-issue body armor. Yours, when you graduate. The Lawgiver: a Judge's standard-issue sidearm. Yours, if you graduate. The Lawmaster: a Judge's standard-issue personal transport. Yours... if you can ever get it to work."

Judge Dredd is Blade Runner for viewers suffering from Attention Deficit Disorder. Ridley Scott's Blade Runner is ponderous and deeply philosophical, whereas Judge Dredd offers brainless popcorn entertainment. As previously detailed, this is leave-your-brain-at-the-door material. The action sequences manage to thrill, but they are preposterous - even for science fiction. Heroes are entirely impervious to bullets, for instance (even after suffering a wound, a character still manages to save the day in a hopelessly clichéd finale). Then by the time Stallone and Rob Schneider outrun a blast of fire, one can't help but laugh. Be that as it may, Judge Dredd is an underrated gem that deserves to be on the to-watch short-list of any Stallone fan...or just any fan of the action genre. This is 90 minutes of solid entertainment, laced with enjoyably frenetic action sequences and a mind-blowing display of special effects (for the most part, that is - obvious matte paintings during one chase sequence will cause one to wonder if the budget suddenly imploded).

At least visually, Judge Dredd aspires to be the next big sci-fi action extravaganza. Blade Runner presented a unique image of a possible future. Mega-City One (formerly New York City) in Judge Dredd is evidently a glitzy replication. And let's face it: the air speeder chase is an aping of Return of the Jedi. Traces of Mad Max appear to be thrown in...and, interestingly, there are a few cannibalistic mountain folk mirroring The Hills Have Eyes as well. This is a derivative sci-fi action film, but even in spite of its blatant unoriginality it entertains and the sets look genuinely spectacular. In addition, there are a sufficient amount of creative ideas incorporated into the film. Mega-City One is appropriately intricate and exhilarating. And Dredd's signature weapon - a pistol with voice-selectable ammo for all occasions - is undeniably cool. Stallone as Judge Dredd is more or less Dirty Harry in RoboCop's armour. Stallone plays the character in Eastwood style; his lines delivered in a monotone, and his eyes glint with a noble rage (the glint basically means "I'd enjoy killing your arse!").

"The legendary Angel family. Cursed Earth pirates, murderers, scavengers, and of course scumbags!"

Judge Dredd appears to have a serious tonal problem. Stallone grunting through his first few lines is enough to trigger fits of laughter. The dialogue is frequently hilarious - whether intentional or otherwise. Examining the committee of credited screenwriters, it isn't hard to see why. Michael De Luca and William Wisher Jnr. were responsible for RoboCop 3, after all.
Badass one-liners are a necessity for the genre. The Terminator wouldn't be the same without "I'll be back", for instance. Stallone is given all the best lines, most notably his declaration of "I am the law!". Moments like this call to mind memories of Cobra - as a matter of fact, Judge Dredd is Cobra transplanted into a sci-fi setting.

"We're both prisoners warden. You're behind a desk, and I'm behind this."

Director Danny Cannon was obviously aiming for a science fiction action blockbuster with a touch of humour. Cannon handles the material competently. As a supplement for Cannon's visual implementation, there are dynamic sound effects and a pulse-pounding score. Originally the film was to receive a PG-13 rating from the MPAA, hence the disappointingly tame violence. However it was ultimately slapped with an R-rating...but a deplorably soft R-rating.

Performance-wise, there's a selection of two-dimensional acting talent on offer - quite suitable, I suppose. Stallone is Stallone in spades; need more be said? The notoriously bad actor half-grunts and half-bellows his lines throughout the runtime. At the film's beginning he dons a helmet, concealing all except his lips. The effect is slightly disconcerting since it emphasises the slurry, drugged-sounding lethargy of Stallone's vocal delivery. Thankfully, the helmet isn't on for long.
Stallone is given a love interest in Diane Lane as a fellow Judge. The usually reliable actress is somewhat bland, and Lane's chemistry with her co-star is abysmal. Thankfully, Rob Schneider is thrown in for a bit of comic relief. This is definitely a high point for Schneider's career...something to remember since his career was eventually relegated to worthless Adam Sandler vehicles. In this performance Schneider is hysterical; firing off one-liners and conveying his anxiety about a situation amusingly. At one stage during the production, Schneider improvised a mockery of Stallone. The filmmakers found it hilarious, and subsequently added it to the final cut. Armand Assante looks to be having a great time as the central villain; over-the-top, menacing and murderous. In every scene he appears to be vying for the Sociopath of the Year award. Other respected thespians fill in the gaps - Max von Syndow's Obi-Wan-ish manifestation is watchable, and Jürgen Prochnow makes a brief appearance as a Judge.

"The innocent only exist until they inevitably become perpatrators. Guilt or innocence is a matter of timing."

All things considered, Judge Dredd is serviceable low-grade entertainment. It's a brainless popcorn sci-fi action movie, featuring top-notch explosive action sequences fuelled by a pretty horrible script. Aside from Stallone's occasional twinkle - dispersing Dredd's limited repertoire of kick-ass catch phrases - it's the extravagant production design and special effects that effectively engage. Judge Dredd can only be defined as a guilty pleasure. It may be campy and silly beyond all comprehension, but the film provides straightforward fun without being too taxing. In no way am I ashamed to admit I enjoyed this film thoroughly and would willingly watch it again numerous times.

"Emotions... there ought to be a law against them."

6.6/10

"You'll never survive if you lose control Mr. Fox."

On first impression, Vacancy probably seems like conventional, by-the-numbers horror fluff...upon closer inspection, this is anything but! In the midst of Hollywood's putrid "torture porn" movie craze (Hostel and its diabolical sequel are probably the worst offenders) it's indeed a rare occurrence to witness a good old-fashioned horror flick that relies on white-knuckle suspense as opposed to the senseless exploitation of gore and sex. Vacancy - the English-language debut feature of director Nimród Antal - isn't going to gain any awards for originality; as a matter of fact the premise and script are mediocre at best. However it's the filmic implementation that elevates this horror film high above the expected standard. Running at a scant 80 minutes, Vacancy is lean and mean. For the most part it hits the correct notes and provides a satisfying dosage of nail-biting tension. Director Antal competently creates a strong sense of atmosphere and escalating suspense. This is a very thrilling flick!

The story tracks David and Amy Fox (Wilson and Beckinsale, respectively) - they are a married couple in the middle of contemplating a divorce after their marriage is placed under substantial strain when they lose a child. While travelling home following a family function, their car breaks down on an isolated road. It's late at night, and the quarrelsome couple become compelled to hike in excess of a kilometre to a grungy little roadside motel (managed by a creepy fella played by Frank Whaley) which would make even the Bates Motel seem welcoming. It isn't long before David discovers a stash of snuff movies...eventually recognising that said movies had been filmed in their motel room. Trapped in their room with hidden cameras watching their every move, David and Amy realise they could become the stars of the sadistic filmmakers' next cult classic.

Vacancy is stripped down and raw. Once the nitty gritty commences there's scarce respite as it races along, offering moment after moment of genuine terror. All told, the film's runtime is a very tight 80 minutes. The film knows not to linger around for too long begging for attention - it starts, it gets to the point, and it humbly departs. Screenwriter Mark L. Smith admirably eschews a majority of the genre clichés. Vacancy offers just two protagonists as opposed to of a truck-load of disposable knife-fodder, therefore allowing a viewer to care far more about their fate. It takes its time establishing things, allowing us to familiarise ourselves with David and Amy. These are two moderately normal people...they aren't the dumb idiots that usually populate this kind of flick. Most commendably, there's no guarantee that either protagonist will survive to see the end credits. One of the film's strengths is in its frequent unpredictability - there's a strong sense that the protagonists may not make it out in one piece, let alone make it out at all.

Moreover, the main characters of this horror outing are smart. In the context of horror heroes, they are fairly intelligent. Compared to the people who were murdered prior to their stay, they're utter geniuses. They conduct themselves as reasonably intelligent adults might behave in a similar situation. David is also aware that he and Amy are no match for a group of killers in pitch black, especially in unknown surroundings. Therefore he doesn't engage them in hand-to-hand combat, nor does he attempt to set an ambush. Although the climax is somewhat predictable, Amy doesn't act like a superhuman nor does she mysteriously muster impressive martial arts skills in the blink of an eye. In fact, she even falls asleep at one stage - an act wholly human. Granted, a few times a bout of "here's what I'd do" will strike a viewer, and there are a few script mishaps, but the characters in Vacancy are still the smartest horror victims in recent memory. After a contemptible glut of horror films (ranging from Friday the 13th to Hostel, where the death of expendable supporting characters is perfunctory on account of it being fun to watch), Vacancy reminds us of what made Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho so remarkable: a handful of restricted sets and human characters.

Perhaps the most obvious thing that separates Vacancy from other contemporary horror films is in the content. Too often do horror films insert extra gore, sex and profanity for the sake of adding it as they're already bound for an R-rating from the MPAA. However, the film in question distinctively avoids displaying a vast majority of the violence - it usually happens off-screen. In addition, Vacancy avoids the inclusion of an obligatory sex scene. All of the sex and most of violence is on tape, witnessed with a bluish tint and flickering interference on a small TV screen. Frankly, this makes the violence and sex far less gratuitous and it's all the better for it.

Vacancy plays on ordinary human fears: loud noises late at night, a ringing phone with no-one at the opposite end, rats & roaches, claustrophobia, and a sense of hopeless isolation. Director Nimród Antal allows his cinematographer (veteran Andrzej Sekula) to intensify the impression of imminent doom. Each shot is meticulously composed to enhance the suspense. There are some truly masterful moments, perhaps the most ominous when David and Amy are harassed by noisy banging on the doors and walls. The normality of the situation is instantly shattered when mysterious noises erupt and panic begins to heighten. Antal builds the movie slowly, but even the build-up is reasonably creepy and chilling.

In spite of a number of flaws - and believe me, there are flaws - Vacancy gets more right than wrong. Still, it's far from perfect. The snarky dialogue between David and Amy is a waste of space. All the bickering seems redundant, even in the context of character development. The concept has also been exhaustively employed over the decades: a car breaks down in the middle of no-where, and bad things start to happen. Amy's cell phone also fails to get a signal in the middle of nowhere...how formulaic. Other flaws: sections of the story are difficult to accept, such as the main concept itself. It's doubtful the snuff film scheme could endure for so long. All the victims on tape appear to be stupid, defenceless, unintelligent horror victims. None of them attempt anything smart. Most detrimental is the conclusion. It's generic, and from a believability standpoint there are incalculable dilemmas. Had a clever rewrite courtesy of a skilled screenwriter transpired, Vacancy could have been this decade's king horror movie.

Luke Wilson and Kate Beckinsale manage their "every person" roles effectively. Wilson's handling of David succeeds, and his amiability seasons a bland role. Thank God none of the sleazy teenage idols of the early 21st century got this role. Beckinsale is also convincing as Amy. As fear pervades the tense atmosphere, the protagonists seem legitimately terrified. Never do these actors seem contrived; in fact their naturalistic performances aren't Hollywood at all.
Frank Whaley as the manager is sinister and sadistic. He'd make a good roommate for Norman Bates. Kudos to Whaley for placing forth a wholly believable and spine-chilling performance!

Perhaps expectations for Vacancy might have been quite low, but the product considerably outweighs any assumption of this being "just another silly horror film". From a creative point of view, Vacancy is leaps and bounds ahead of at least 80% of the current horror films from major studios. The script isn't particularly creative, but it's Antal's virtuoso direction that makes the film so effective. The movie is an accomplished brew of bright colours, dark shadows, and a grimy atmosphere. This is a terrific white-knuckle thriller - convincing performances mixed with a masterfully thrilling tone. If Psycho made people wary of showers, then the tense and tightly-paced Vacancy will make them think twice before stopping at a depressing old motel in the middle of nowhere - even if it's the only room available for hundreds of kilometres.

"It's right there in the corner number 4. You might have to jiggle the handle a little bit to open her up, she's as sticky as an old whore."

7.5/10

"You and your plans. You know what my grandmother used to say? If you want to make God laugh... tell Him your plans."

First-time director Alejandro González Iñárritu burst into the world's cinema spotlight with his multi-award-winning feature Amores Perros (a.k.a. Love's a Bitch). Heralded as a masterpiece by audiences and critics alike, this acclaimed Mexican drama weaves together three diverse tales rich in thematic material concerning relationships, love and loss. Director Iñárritu infuses his picture with raw energy that's both intriguing and confrontational. Amores Perros is extremely compelling, expressive, entrancing and challenging. Featuring a non-liner storyline (ala Pulp Fiction), this gripping drama presents a mosaic of dissimilar characters living despondent lives in the economic melting pot of Mexico City who all become connected by a tragic car accident.

Amores Perros shares undeniable similarities with Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, although most of said similarities are at surface level. Like Tarantino's Oscar-nominated masterpiece, Iñárritu's film deals with a range of characters living on the seedy side of life. The plot unfolds episodically and in a non-coherent manner - characters from one segment occasionally feature in (or pass through) another. However, Pulp Fiction glamorised the characters - the conventional "bad guy" seemed hip and appealing, as established through witty dialogue and stylish filmmaking techniques. However, Amores Perros does not romanticise the characters. Iñárritu exposes his characters for what they are - human beings whose moral compasses have become twisted. Thus the territory may seem familiar to Pulp Fiction fans, but the vantage point is drastically divergent. Amores Perros introduces us to a veritable gallery of contemptible individuals. Of the multiple significant characters traversing through Iñárritu's terrain, not many could be considered sympathetic. The other characters form a web of corruption and deceit. There are assassins, murderers, philanderers, thieves, traitors, in addition to other varied riff-raff. Tarantino's anti-heroes are cool and debonair, always with the right one-liner to offer. Iñárritu's characters are brutal and lacking even a modicum of charm.

Amores Perros begins with a kinetic, exhilarating, bone-crushing car chase. The devastating outcome of this chase acts as a catalyst for the rest of the stories for the film. Following this car chase, the film then imaginatively delves into three devastating stories involving characters dealing with loss, regret, and life's ruthless realities - all in the name of love. It's a risky device to delay crucial plot points until past a third of its runtime, but the individual stories - which weave in and out of each other with realistic disarray - are so transfixing that you're willing to go along with the ride until everything becomes clear.

"Come away with me."

The first story concerns an optimistic young man named Octavio (Bernal). He lives with his older brother Ramiro (Pérez), their mother, and Ramiro's young wife Susana (Bauche). Incessantly abused by Ramiro, Susana struggles to complete high school whilst trying to care for their infant son. Regardless of living in fear of his violent older brother, Octavio is hopelessly in love with his sister-in-law Susana and is determined to raise sufficient money to convince her to run away with him. But in Mexico City where poverty abounds, clean money is difficult to acquire. With little alternatives, Octavio enters his dog in the local dog-fighting circuit.
Of the three stories, this is the most entertaining. A viewer can certainly grow concerned about Octavio and Susana. When the romance begins to go south, it's also affecting. The movie starts with the car accident from Octavio's perspective. At the end of this story it is replayed, but this time we meet two other characters who had been subtly introduced beforehand.

The next narrative thread tracks two people: Daniel (Guerrero) and Valeria (Toledo). Valeria is a world-class model who has struck the big time. Her face and body dominate billboards throughout Mexico City. Daniel is a magazine publisher who has left his wife and two offspring to be with Valeria. Together, they make the perfect couple...until tragedy strikes. Valeria is critically injured in the car accident. Daniel is therefore compelled to cope with living with a mentally and physically crippled woman whose modelling career is at an end. The hopeful life Daniel had envisioned begins to reek of decay. The relationship between them takes a slow downward spiral as Valeria loses herself in a bout of depression, and Daniel learns that fantasy and reality are never the same.
The middle story suits the film on thematic level, but on a story level it seems detached. The story stands on its own, and is a study of delusion and impossible love. It's powerfully acted by Goya Toledo and Álvaro Guerrero.

The final story is about El Chivo (Echevarría) - an enigmatic, wild-looking figure that drifts around the periphery of the preceding stories until his tale is finally told. Chivo is fundamentally a hobo hitman who prefers the companionship of dogs rather than people, endlessly wandering the streets of Mexico City with his cart and menagerie of stray dogs. An ex-guerrilla, Chivo has spent 20 years in prison; long ago abandoning his wife and daughter. Many years later, he's a man beleaguered with regrets. He spies on his adult offspring from afar, never mustering the courage to approach her. In order to feed himself (and his stray dogs) he carries out the occasional contract killing. However, upon his latest assignment, he arrives at a few realisations about the importance of family and wishes to start anew.
If the first story concerns young love and the second about false love, then this story is about lost love. Emilio Echevarría carries this entire story. He has an immense screen presence that builds the character's mysterious qualities. His emotional scene in the end - a plea to his long lost daughter - is both extraordinary and heart-wrenching.

A theme crucial to the plot(s) of Amores Perros is the character's relationships with their canine companions. The dogs in this picture are about as significant as the human characters.
In spite of loving his dog more than anyone else in his entire family, Octavio willingly jeopardises the life of his dog in vicious fights to win his fortune.
Valerie loves her pooch Ritchie more than she would a child (and, one might argue, more than Daniel). When Ritchie gets trapped underneath the apartment floor, her dog's confinement begins to distinctively reflect her own.
El Chivo treats his mangy pack of dogs with greater respect than he accords to any human.
By elevating dogs to this level of importance, Alejandro González Iñárritu is making a proclamation about the level to which society has stooped. Amores Perros is a sombre commentary regarding a culture where persons care more about their dogs than they do about any other humans.

Amores Perros is a tremendously confronting film. Raw emotion plays a large role in the story and it's difficult to stomach. The explicit scenes depicting dog fights will prove gruelling and excruciating for animal lovers. These dogs seem to be genuinely fighting. As a matter of fact, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in England complained about the dog-fighting scenes to the British Board of Film Classification. The faint of heart may be appalled with the constant sight of dead, bloody dogs. These scenes, however, are necessary to the film - not solely to help create the film's atmosphere and emotion but to offer a parallel to the world these characters dwell in.
The film has been implemented magnificently. Music is employed effectively to provoke emotion in the viewer. The direction is wonderful and the editing sublime. Following his successful directorial debut, Iñárritu went on to direct 21 Grams and Babel - both of which received critical acclaim. His first film, though, still remains a stirring, visceral eulogy to life, loss and dog-fighting on the mean streets of Mexico.

Both poignant and astonishing, Iñárritu has directed a truly beautiful and confronting drama infused with the affluence, violence and poverty that constitute the soul of Mexico City. Highlighting the sharp contrast between poverty and the wealth of more affluent citizens, the film's deeply textured characterisations and locations generate a depth infrequently witnessed in Hollywood cinema. The sheer energy of Amores Perros is breathtaking. Director Iñárritu exudes a masterful control of story and style, blending the two impeccably to generate an incredible film. Although the visual flair is omnipresent, it never obstructs the story. Style over substance is an all-too-common occurrence of late, so it's refreshing (to say the least) to behold an extremely stylised film that never falls into this trap. With its stalwart cast, and featuring one of the most frenzied car chases in recent memory, this is one drama every cinema buff simply must see.

Iñárritu has surrounded himself with an amazing cast. Amores Perros is an ensemble piece, yet there isn't a poor performance in sight - even the trained dogs do solid jobs. The first story is undoubtedly stolen by the appealing Gael García Bernal. Bernal's performance throughout the film encompasses the correct gamut of emotion - ranging from utter joy and elation to anguish, desperation and widespread emotional devastation. The young actor manages everything with professionalism and skill. He is competently supported by Vanessa Bauche whose naïve yet optimistic Susana is tremendously believable. Her quandary seems hopeless, but she never gives up hope.
Emilio Echevarría places forth a magnificent and thoughtful performance as the hopeful El Chivo. He's simply magnetic, with radiating eyes staring out from beneath shaggy eyebrows. They are the eyes of an extremist, yet there's also a feeling of unspeakable loss in them as they gaze in the direction of his long-lost daughter. The realism conveyed by the actor contributes significantly to the story as he immerses himself into the character to a required standard.
The rest of the performances - Goya Toldeo as Valeria, Álvaro Guerrero as Daniel and Marco Pérez as Octavio's brother Ramiro - are all utterly brilliant.

This film was nominated for both a Golden Globe award and an Academy award in the category of Best Foreign Language Film. Amores Perros has also won a number of prestigious awards at various film festivals, including Cannes where it received the audience awards for Best Film (Critics Week and the Young Critics Award). In addition to these, the film has also received wide critical acclaim from both the critics and audiences alike (much-respected critic Roger Ebert wrote a glowing review of the film). Watching the film, it's not difficult to understand why. Iñárritu's directorial style contains elements of Tarantino, and others. Ultimately, though, the synthesis is all his own. Amores Perros is more than just a strong debut; it's terrific, gritty filmmaking.

The emotional roller coaster ride of Amores Perros commences with a frenetic, breathless car chase. This wonderful energy pervades the film until the dramatic climax. This is the kind of film that allows you to see the world differently after watching it. Contemplative, provocative and excellently made - this is first-rate filmmaking. It's horrific and tender, raw and lyrical - albeit sometimes excruciatingly overlong.

"Being tough won't make you smart."

8.4/10

"What a dump. When I think of castles, it's not what I picture."

Hauru no ugoku shiro (a.k.a. Howl's Moving Castle) - the latest animated enchantment from esteemed Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki - is based on a novel by English writer Diana Wynne-Jones. This portion of anime is set in an indeterminate period (a cross between Harry Potter, Jules Verne and Alice in Wonderland) where late 19th century costumes mingle with flying battleships, witches and wizards.

The masterpieces of Hayao Miyazaki (and his legendary Studio Ghibli) are indisputably the most exquisite animated pictures originating from Japan. The breathtaking artistry of each of Miyazaki's films is undeniable; employing traditional, time-consuming hand drawn animation to astonishing effect. Miyazaki's 2001 release, Spirited Away, earned him an Oscar for "Best Animated Feature". Miyazaki himself wasn't in attendance on the night to receive the gold statuette - so to speak; he was the underdog whose chances weren't substantial.

Akin to all of Miyazaki's pictures, it's revitalising to behold anime with appeal extending to adults as well as children. Howl's Moving Castle is an extraordinary movie; visually affluent, enjoyable, eye-catching and amazing. It adheres to a lot of Miyazaki's trademarks - notably a struggling, determined, often unprepared young heroine thrust into an exhilarating adventure. There are also a lot of flying objects, cute magical sprites in addition to ugly, bulbous monsters. However the plotting is opaque and the simplistic message is flattened out into an all-too-lengthy two-hour runtime. It's also hobbled by a general lack of direction and an anti-war message that is handled poorly.

"You're wearing that hat? After all the magic I used to make your dress pretty?"

The central heroine of Howl's Moving Castle is a young teenager named Sophie (voiced by Chieko Baisho in the original Japanese dub, and Emily Mortimer (young) and Jean Simmons (old) in the English dub). She's an average girl lacking both confidence and vivacity, and she works at her deceased father's hat shop. While walking through the narrow streets, she is accosted by two soldiers. Sophie is rescued by roguish, self-indulgent magician Howl (Takuya Kimura in the Japanese dub, Christian Bale in the English dub) who takes her for a brief fly around the city - the two of them stroll high above the city walking on air, in the kind of surrealistic dreamlike world only Miyazaki can deliver. It's virtually love at first flight, much to the chagrin of the Wicked Witch of the Waste (Akihiro Miwa in the Japanese dub, Lauren Bacall in the English dub) who's still in love with Howl. Sophie is soon transformed into an aging crone by the jealous, spiteful Wicked Witch. Unable to tell anyone of her plight, Sophie leaves home and embarks on a journey to regain her youth and break the curse. She finds refuge in Howl's magical moving castle where she soon becomes a valued member of the household. As Sophie strives to help Howl bring peace to a war-torn nation, their relationship deepens and she finds herself fighting to protect them both from a dangerous war of sorcery that threatens their world.

"Looks like we have another addition to the family. Hmmm, you've got quite a nasty spell on you too, huh? Seems everyone in this family's got problems."

Hayao Miyazaki has infused Howl's Moving Castle with his own myths, themes and preoccupations. The setting is a pungent amalgamation of influences; a 19th-century pastiche of mythological, historical, natural and magical worlds. This is the kind of alternate universe that Miyazaki is accustomed to creating - he conceives the look and feel of a futuristic, retro-fabulous, industrial revolution-era England. The film depicts a valiant new technological period of inventions. The streets abound with trolley cars, carriages, and car prototypes. Up above, strange aircrafts skim through the sky. Beyond the town there's an expressive pastoral landscape. In the vicinity of said landscape there's Howl's Moving Castle; a wheezing, old-fashioned eyesore of the Terry Gilliam school. The vast castle contains a doorway with a magical portal into several different worlds. It waddles on four metallic chicken legs, and steam blows from an assortment of funnels and pipes. It is the property of shape-shifting wizard Howl, who is said to devour the hearts of beautiful young women and is spoken of by the townspeople with a frisson of exhilaration and apprehension. The setting evokes classic fairytales such as Alice in Wonderland and Beauty and the Beast, with the story situated against a contemporised backdrop of war.

Howl's Moving Castle is an invigorating visual assault. As Studio Ghibli fans have come to anticipate, the film is beautifully rendered and the animation is striking. Traditionalists who yearn for hand drawn animation won't be disappointed. What's most extraordinary and impressive is how smooth and fluid the result is. The backgrounds look absolutely wonderful. Also, the characters themselves are capable of expressing emotions with little obvious alteration to their appearance. The animation is richly detailed and astounding. It is also widely divergent from the Pixar style of computer-generated animation, though CGI has been employed extensively throughout the film (mainly for the backgrounds). Miyazaki has an appeal that crosses generational barriers. Adult audiences will be mesmerised by the depth and variety of the vision while enjoying the clever scenarios and occasionally witty lines (Calcifer is particularly hilarious). Kids will also be drawn to the visuals.

Miyazaki is renowned for creating imaginative, exhilarating, prosperous and outlandish movies that are enchanting and full of grace as well as gravity. Howl's Moving Castle is also infused with Miyazaki's gentle humour and is utterly absorbing for the first half - especially with the wonder of experiencing a new, incredibly vivid fantasy world. Where the movie has a tendency to disappoint (perhaps that's too strong a word) is in its story. Aside from the story being far too excessively padded out and slender, it contains a few constituents bordering on cliché. Most notable is the anti-war theme, which seems deeply ingrained in Japanese culture and is overused in anime. There are occasions when the film feels like the eponymous castle - a cumbersome, sizeable object constantly in danger of toppling over. A majority of the movie is an extended rant against the evils of war. Howl keeps making speeches about the destructiveness of aerial bombings. While I might be in agreement with the intense 'war is bad' connotation, I don't necessarily want it hammered into my cranium in random preachy moments scattered throughout the feature. For instance, at one stage Sophie asks Howl "Are those the enemy's planes or ours?" to which he replies "Is there really a difference?". These specific interactions are laughable at best, cringe-worthy at worst. It's almost redeemed by its ending; an uplifting marriage of music vocals and redemptive imagery.

"That boy is extremely dangerous, his powers are far too great for someone without a heart. If he stays selfish, I'm afraid he'll end up just like the Witch of the Waste."

Howl's Moving Castle is dissimilar to standard Hollywood animation, as Miyazaki eschews movie references and niche elements incorporated for diverse age groups. Miyazaki's sense of "good" and "bad" characters is deliberately ambiguous: there are continuous challenges and surprises in store when it comes to the depiction of villains.
The journey undertaken by the characters in search of truth and self-discovery is an entertaining and peculiar one. The heroine Sophie exhibits a combination of spunkiness and sombreness. Though cursed into the body of an elderly woman, Sophie learns more about herself as a crone than she ever did as a teenager.

As usual, an English-language version was eventually produced. Purists may holler, but the product is pure pleasure. Christian Bale is intensely likable as Howl the magician (whose appearance resembles a rock-star). However, Bale is periodically dull. Lauren Bacall lends her throaty voice to the plump Wicked Witch of the Waste. Jean Simmons voices Sophie when the witch turns her into an old hag, while Emily Mortimer provides the voice of the youthful Sophie. Both actresses offer charm. Billy Crystal is comic energy unleashed as Calcifer; the fire demon who keeps the castle moving. Crystal as Calcifer is a hilariously welcome presence.

True to expectations from Hayao Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli, Howl's Moving Castle is a triumph of technical excellence in animation. The synthesis of conventional hand-drawn animation augmented by subtle computer effects is rich, meticulous and vibrant. This degree of visual elegance is paramount, and sustains an audience when the plot gets a tad murky. Nevertheless, Miyazaki delivers a simplistic message; attempting to compensate for the thin story with gangbusters visuals. All age groups, in addition to Miyazaki fans, will coo at the film's optical depth and rich surreality. But opaque plotting lets the momentum of the first act vanish into thin air. This isn't of the sheer brilliance of Spirited Away or Grave of the Fireflies, but Howl's Moving Castle is a self-assured addition to the Studio Ghibli pantheon.

"When you're old, all you want to do is stare at the scenery. It's so strange. I've never felt so peaceful before."

7.8/10

"You hear that? Sounds like somebody's sheering."

Honestly, how can one critically scrutinise a comedic horror film with killer zombie sheep? Black Sheep is simply an unapologetic baaaaaaad movie. Anyone who abhors this movie should feel unconditionally sheepish. This fun barnyard zombie horror schlock exists to offer gory B-Grade thrills mingled with comedy... It delivers on its promise. It's intentionally stupid and it's highly entertaining. As the tagline states: "Get ready for the Violence of the Lambs!"

There's plenty to be fond of in this cheesy small-budget New Zealand flick. It splendidly continues the legacy of the splatter horror genre established by Peter Jackson in his early career when he directed Braindead (a.k.a. Dead Alive) and Bad Taste. With its intriguing premise and Peter Jackson's Weta Workshop responsible for the buckets of gore, Black Sheep is undoubtedly the greatest movie ever made in cinematic history...about mutated killer sheep, that is.

This Kiwi horror fest is a black sheep in more ways than one. Not only does it feature flocks of murderous mutated fur-balls but its originality and creativity makes it an odd one out in the crop of modern horror films - essentially a sole black sheep in a flock of otherwise white sheep. Quite simply, it's a breath of fresh air.

As for the plot (it's more of a concept disguised as a plot, actually): Henry Oldfield (Meister) is the most forlorn of New Zealand characters - he's absolutely terrified of sheep. Dosed up on therapy, Henry returns to his family farm to sell his portion of the property to his greedy older brother Angus (Feeney). However, Henry is unaware of Angus' activities on the farm - he's recklessly genetically engineering sheep in order to build superior livestock. When a pair of inept environmentalist activists unwittingly release a mutant lamb from the laboratory, it unleashes a plague that transforms thousands of sheep into vicious, bloodthirsty, marauding balls of fluff. Add to this a mad scientist or two, a man who loves sheep a little too much, a lot of sheep mauling people, a number of weresheep AND an abundance of hilarity. There's much more to discover within, but it's far too delicious to spoil.

Writer/director Jonathan King may or may not be endeavouring to deliver a message about the consequences of humankind's eternal mission to disrupt the natural order of nature. But make no mistake - Black Sheep ain't anything preachy. This science-gone-wrong parable is instead played predominantly for yucks and giggles. Plenty of comic mileage can easily be extracted from the sight of seemingly placid fluff-balls running amok with the bloodlust of the grimmest movie zombies. The production values are enhanced by the wonderful effects work of Weta Workshop. For the most part Black Sheep eschews digital effects; offering a seamless, excitable brew of vintage puppetry, animatronics, CGI and real-life sheep (who prove to be quite the performers). It proudly includes moments of genuine laughs mixed with grossly excessive gore. These sheep don't merely kill...they relish every opportunity to chow on innards and body parts. People are mauled and geysers of blood paint the surrounding scenery. Weta have applied their considerable talents in making the sheep believable yet hilariously exaggerated. It's three bags full of fun.

The spirit of Black Sheep is unashamedly B-Grade. The concept of killer sheep isn't sufficient to sustain a feature-length film. Thus writer-director King is astute enough not to push the film beyond an 80-minute running time. Along the way there are humorous homages to Night of the Living Dead and An American Werewolf in London. King also manages to skewer New Age philosophy, organic food, global warming and New Zealand culture. It isn't long before the film becomes an essential parody of itself. The filmmakers noticeably had a great deal of fun coming up with this material (like people transforming into weresheep), and it shows onscreen. Never before or since have filmmakers offered the image of flatulent sheep catching fire and exploding due to the flammability of the methane.
But I must sound this warning - if you want to live your life without ever seeing a sheep biting off a man's joy stick, you may want to shield your eyes at some point.

Maintaining the film's B-Grade tenor, the acting is hammy and occasionally unrealistic. The amateur actors are obviously in on the joke, and are having stacks of fun. This fun is contagious. Nathan Meister is certainly watchable and likable as the hero. Danielle Mason is occasionally irritating as the environmentalist, but she always looks stunning. Other wonderful performances come courtesy of a predominantly New Zealand cast; including Peter Feeney, Tammy Davis, Glenis Levestam, Tandi Wright, Oliver Driver and Nick Fenton.

Black Sheep takes itself none too seriously, and it's pure goofy fun. No pretensions, no magnanimous metaphors...just cheap thrills, silly laughs, and plenty of blood 'n' guts! Although extremely stupid, you'd have to be a pretty grim and cynical person not to succumb to the sheer delightfulness of the silly premise. Combining a wide multiplicity of schlock while parodying zombie movies, mad scientist plots, hippies, the overtly Green, and even family dramas - Black Sheep bites off pieces from pretty much everything before spitting it all back out as bloody chunks of fun. If you're seeking a few thrills in addition to flocks of belly laughs, Black Sheep is essential viewing. It won't change your life, but it'll perhaps make you think twice before buying a wool sweater. Hating this film is analogous to hating fun, and that's impossible right?
It's simply a joyful, bloody riot from start to finish. I'll be damned if I ever stopped smiling.

"I thought you of all people would appreciate efforts to deconstruct the colonialist paternalistic agrarian hierarchy that disenfranchises the Tangata Whenua and erodes the natural resources of Aotearoa."

7.2/10

"I don't care what they say! We have to tape everything!"

Just when you thought it was safe to declare low-budget Spanish film [Rec] the greatest horror flick in years, the inevitable Hollywood remake has already hit cinemas barely a year later. Unsurprisingly, Quarantine is an extraordinarily faithful remake of [Rec] - right down to every major narrative beat and scary moment, not to mention the very layout of the multi-storied building has been almost precisely replicated. There's little uncertainty as to why Quarantine was in the can so quickly. Aside from a handful of tweaks hither and thither (as well as the obvious language modification from Spanish to English), it's a brazen facsimile of [Rec] - its faithfulness reminiscent of Gus Van Sant's Psycho remake. John Erick Dowdle isn't so much a director, but a copycat handling someone else's homework. Oh boy, it shows.

Sony's Screen Gems had this remake officially commissioned before principal photography for [Rec] had even been completed. The company clearly perceived the Spanish horror film as the next landmark of the horror genre, taking a genre staple (a zombie plague) and allowing movie-goers to witness it through the immediacy of a handheld camera. [Rec]'s release in America was delayed until well after Quarantine, evidently in an endeavour for Screen Gems to develop a ruse that their film is 100% original. US audiences may have been none the wiser, but for anybody who's caught the original, Quarantine is guaranteed to trigger recurrent uncontrollable bouts of déjà vu.

The fundamental story of [Rec] remains unmodified for its remake: shooting a night-shift reality program, presenter Angela (Carpenter) and cameraman Scott (Harris) are shadowing a crew of Los Angeles firemen on an ostensibly dreary evening. Following a few uneventful hours the firemen respond to a routine 911 call which takes them to a small apartment building. The tenants had called 911 in response to blood-curdling screams coming from an apartment. However they soon learn the inhabitant of said apartment has been infected with something unknown. Following a vicious attack, the authorities swiftly quarantine the entire building - cutting off all entrances, exits and windows. Phones, internet, television and cell phones have also been cut-off. Meanwhile, the heroes are hopelessly trapped inside the building as the unknown virus spreads...converting hosts into bloodthirsty, rabid mutants. As the residents fight to survive and struggle to find a way out of the quarantined building, Scott documents the horrifying experience on camera.

Having viewed [Rec] multiple times, it was possible to recognise scenarios and plot points which have been precisely duplicated in Quarantine. It's a blatant remake severely undermined by unoriginality and its unmistakable Hollywoodness. The noble and dignified firemen have become horny, cheeky and self-centred (this is even acknowledged!). On the other hand, Angela openly flirts with the firemen. The character of Angela has been transformed into a stupid, clichéd American horror movie bimbo. [Rec] featured a strong protagonist concerned with getting a good story. In Quarantine, Angela is tragically Americanised.
In addition, gore levels are higher and characters frequently do stupid things. For example, Scott the cameraman keeps filming and uses the camera to view everything. He even kills an infected person; smashing the lens of the camera into its face! No cameraman would ever do this, and no camera would ever survive the treatment. Another touch of Hollywood: a character tries desperately to escape, and is gunned down as a result. Oh, and Scott the cameraman is an African American. Adhering to the clichés, he's muscle-bound and he kicks butt.

If it ain't broken, don't fix it - this motto should become a law in Hollywood. [Rec] is an original, chilling horror film that succeeds admirably in its execution. Its atmosphere of anxiety is able to keep any viewer riveted throughout the taut running time. [Rec] is also the best entry to the horror genre for a very long time. Remaking it in Hollywood with a bigger budget under the tight studio system is the equivalent of a Hollywood remake of The Blair Witch Project. There's absolutely nothing wrong with [Rec], and a remake shouldn't have been green-lit...let alone within a year of its theatrical debut. Quarantine is unnecessarily longer with extended character development (notably at the beginning of the film) and added Hollywood moments. Scares are far more predictable, and plot developments are too mechanical. The scenarios lifted from [Rec] appear awkward when inserted into this film. From time to time the film also seems lost. It needed brisk pacing and taut duration. Quarantine is instead cumbersome and lumpy - it's cold, lifeless, stiff and sometimes downright excruciating. It has been filmed on studio sets rather than a real apartment block, therefore feeling false and flat. To save time and funds, the Americans should've just produced an English dub of [Rec]...or just not touched the Spanish gem at all!

The central technique of the "found footage" genre (initially made popular after the success of The Blair Witch Project) is to employ handheld camera and give the cameraman a personality - the audience will therefore feel like a participant in the horrifying events. In Hollywood, the genre is rarely done well. The approach has been done to death...the novelty has worn off, and it simply feels gimmicky. It ruins interesting character development (the only time allotted to becoming familiar with the characters grows very boring very quickly) and jettisons the hope of any emotional investment with the characters. Add to this a range of awful performances. They never play the realism card...they play the Hollywood movie card, contradicting the filming technique. While filming [Rec], directorial duo Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza kept a few scares a secret in order for actors to look genuinely terrified. [Rec] felt real. Quarantine does not.

During the action sequences, the shaky cam is too distracting, nauseating and baffling. In Blair Witch and [Rec] the images are still manageable. In this film, however, it's hard to make out what's going on - you just know it's nasty. For these aforesaid action sequences (and at other portions of the movie) there are also distracting jump cuts and unbelievably erratic movements. It's a total mess and Dowdle's directing is appalling! Adding insult to injury, the cameraman never baulks at capturing the gory stuff. On that matter, the gore exudes exploitation. [Rec] was never about exploiting gore, neither was Blair Witch. The "less is more" technique works...this is just ridiculous. Scott the cameraman purposely turns the camera to look at a corpse or a puddle of blood, etc. Understandable if the cameraman turned his head to look, but why turn the whole camera?

Nits are easier to pick in Quarantine, especially with the glaring lack of originality. In spite of all these drawbacks, there are positives. Every so often the film is gripping and nail-biting, as well as somewhat fun and entertaining. The make-up effects are particularly effective as well. The exaggerated gore does scream Hollywood, but it's fun to watch. The greatest strength, though, is the amazing sound design. The constant sirens and helicopters build a palpable panic. There's never any music or a score, which increases the feeling of apprehension. The atmosphere of trepidation is commendably elevated with the use of sounds instead of a score. Okay, so a few scenes manage to make me jump. Not many, though.

Admittedly, the original [Rec] is hardly original; it's a Romero-style zombie outbreak fused with 28 Days Later... in the style of Blair Witch. The concept catches fire as a result of the raw pseudo-documentary style that keeps the zombie nonsense feasible. The excellent rawness has been lost in translation: the film stock is too crisp, the explicit gore too cinematic, and the performances are never quite real enough. Jennifer Carpenter continually feels like an actress playing a reporter. Any edginess has been painted over with a dense layer of Hollywood polish. It's too Hollywood from the word 'go', which begs the question: doesn't a glossy remake of a reality horror defeat the point? But hey - there are far worse films out there (like the 2008 cinematic turds known as Meet the Spartans and Disaster Movie), and after suffering a scare-free succession of studio horror offerings a genre fan may be pleased. There are some fun jolts to be had during the film's 90-minute duration - even if they are second-hand. Nevertheless, view [Rec] instead.

4.9/10

"I don't enjoy killing, Mr. Smith. I do it because I'm addicted to it."

Mr. Brooks is an intense, absorbing thriller and a stimulating addition to the interminable serial killer genre. It's a curious unification of the campy and the intellectual, of high perception and low psychology. Regardless of these contradictions (or perhaps owing to them), Mr. Brooks succeeds astonishingly. In the 21st century it almost certainly seems the serial killer genre has been exploited too excessively, with little originality left to explore. To date, a tiny quantity of serial killer films have spawned a truly laudable product. The only notable serial killer movies include Silence of the Lambs, Se7en, American Psycho and Zodiac, with very few in between. Mr. Brooks is fresh blood in its genre. Deriving apparent inspiration from American Psycho (and Silence of the Lambs to a trifling extent), the film is constructed on a compelling premise and an enthralling story. Addiction regularly makes for good cinema; its intrinsic drama - man vs. himself - capable of elevating the most mundane premise into a dark, engaging examination of human nature. What if killing was an unassailable addiction? This is the fundamental query Mr. Brooks sets out to deal with.

"Finding someone you think would be fun to kill is a bit like, well it's a bit like falling in love. You meet a lot of candidates, and you like some of them, and they're nice. But they're not right. And that special one comes along, and your heart beats faster, and you know that's the one."

Mr. Earl Brooks (Costner) is Portland's Man of the Year; he's a wealthy businessman (owning a lucrative box-manufacturing company) as well as a loving family man to his wife Emma (Helgenberger) and daughter Jane (Panabaker). Unfortunately, Mr. Brooks has an addiction to killing provoked by an inner voice that he beholds as a physical manifestation named "Marshall" (Hurt). Marshall is the dark side of Mr. Brooks' psyche that pines for blood and murder. Previously, Brooks' untraceable murdering earned him the title of 'The Thumbprint Killer'. Due to his utmost intelligence, Brooks has been capable of orchestrating perfect crimes without ever being caught. However for two years Mr. Brooks has attended AA meetings and controlled his fiery addiction. But on one night he relapses to his darker side. This is only the first 15 minutes...the remainder of the film chronicles the consequences of this ominous relapse. It's simply too juicy and delectable to spoil.

With its minuscule $20 million budget, Mr. Brooks is a gripping and enjoyable thriller. The script rarely plods (despite a surplus of unnecessary subplots) as the constant fascinating twists (most of which I've opted not to spoil where other critics gleefully have) easily engage a viewer. This is director Bruce A. Evans' second outing as a director, significantly improving over his initial debut - the Christian Slater vehicle Kuffs from 1992. In spite of this prolonged absence from the director's chair, Evans manages the script-to-screen transformation with admirable dexterity. The visuals are extremely slick, generating an additional layer of interest on top of the involving screenplay. Evans wrote the script with usual collaborator Raynold Gideon (who had together penned Starman, Stand by Me and Kuffs). The clever screenplay infuses the film with witty dialogue and interpretable subplots, leading to a delightfully ambiguous conclusion (which may or may not leave room open for a sequel). Despite the psychological complexity of the human mind illustrated by the main character's dual representation, the film's approach is visceral. The murders are graphic, bloody and violent. There is also sex and semi-explicit nudity. Oddly, there's also a macabre sense of humour.

"For all the taxes we pay, you'd think they'd make it more difficult to hack into the police personnel file."

Without a doubt, Mr. Brooks is a unique picture. Never before have I beheld anything quite like this. A contrite killer yearning for a career change, a murderer attempting to conceal his gloomy actions - these themes aren't anything innovative, but the unoriginality has been effectively subverted by this poised picture. Screenwriters Evans and Gideon have constructed a devilishly shrewd yet straightforward thriller. During the process they've conceived a character genuinely addicted to killing in the classic sense. He goes to meetings, he anxiously tries to stop, but yet he can't seem to refuse his imaginary alter ego. The character of Mr. Brooks is so meticulous in his murdering that it seems impossible he'll ever be caught unless he wants someone to stop him - and this idea is explored.

It's interesting to note that, despite the brutality of his actions, Mr. Brooks is a sympathetic character. Marshall is made the villain and Brooks a tortured soul who genuinely wants to stop but is unable due to his addiction. By splitting the man into halves, it's possible to like one and dislike the other. Earl Brooks is the ideal husband, father, and businessman. Marshall, on the other hand, is a dark creature lurking in the corner of his soul, thirsting for blood and mayhem. The film is particularly inventive in its creation of Marshall; the Hyde to Earl Brooks' Dr. Jekyll.

Mr. Brooks is entertaining, twisted and disturbing yet gratifying from the very first frame, with thoroughly well-defined characters, a labyrinthine plot that prevents you from thinking too far ahead, and all the efficiency of a Swiss watch. The story is novelistic, with almost every character running their own individual life that ultimately comes to bear on the main events. Yet these diversions seem neither excessive nor too convenient. With so many rich characters populating the film, a satisfying conclusion is pivotal. The stunning ending wraps up everything admirably and ingeniously, exceeding all expectations. Such unpredictability is a rare element in a thriller, elevating the film's quality once again.

There are unfortunate miscalculations - Demi Moore, for example, nearly ruins an almost perfect cast with her bland performance as the tenacious Detective Tracy Atwood. Her character's back-story (including an ugly divorce and an escaped psycho hunting her) feels contrived and unnecessary. The energy behind the camera never relents; however Atwood's history is redundant padding. Add to this the question of why a multi-millionaire would work the difficult career of a cop, let alone why she'd even continue working at all! Unfortunately, other flaws arrive in the wrapping up of Atwood's story - a nonsensical MTV-style slo-mo shootout.
Moore's Atwood needed to be tauter. An audience becomes involved with Costner's charming Mr. Brooks...why should they become involved with someone else? Atwood seems like a stock character needlessly inflated to the third dimension. In an almost superfluous narrative thread, she endeavours to hunt down and apprehend the 'Thumbprint Killer' yet no actual communication between the two is established until the film approaches its climax. It only worsens things that Moore sleepwalks through most of her scenes.

The film lives and dies by the performance of the titular central character, and Kevin Costner knocks this one out of the park! Costner is all layered nuance and imposed debonairness here, balancing a self-assured exterior with a tumultuous interior. The veteran actor commits unequivocally to the screenplay and immerses himself into the character; trusting that regardless of how vile his behaviour, a viewer will always want to see what happens next because the story is so compelling. This is a top-notch performance, and just the right thing to redeem himself for past movie misfires.
As Marshall - the physical embodiment of Brooks' angst-ridden psyche - William Hurt provides a compelling, gripping window into an internal struggle. Hurt is perfect for the role. The film cleverly establishes the cinematic rules early into the game, with Costner's Earl Brooks disengaging from a conversation with a real person to mull things over with Marshall. No matter how animated the imaginary discourse becomes, it's all an intellectual exercise. Earl Brooks isn't afflicted with any sort of multiple-personality disorder...he is always in control: the most Marshall can offer is an opinion, making Brooks ultimately responsible for his actions (just like anyone with a monkey on their back).

"Don't kid yourself, Earl. You're going to kill again."

Demi Moore is the weakest link, as I said before, but the rest of the cast is fantastic. Dane Cook is incredible; his performance is out of the ordinary and this is probably his best role to date. He is no longer just the handsome leading man of Good Luck Chuck or Employee of the Month. Marg Helgenberger and Danielle Panabaker are also solid as the family of Mr. Brooks.

"Why do you fight it so hard, Earl?"

Overall, Mr. Brooks is an underrated gem of a picture featuring a gloriously original script and a pitch-perfect performance from one Kevin Costner. This is a fantastic serial killer flick; boasting sleek production values and a few mild jolts. It's a fairly flawed movie, though: there are problems in the script department at times, and Demi Moore's awful performance occasionally threatens to destroy the film. Yet the interesting injection of humanity into a serial killer makes for an interesting character, and Costner pulls it off satisfactorily. Mr. Brooks shows that if given the proper role, Kevin Costner is still a believable leading man. The film also runs at an agreeable pace; not too fast, not too slow. If you're seeking an original and compelling thriller, then Mr. Brooks is worth checking out.

"Before I was the Thumbprint Killer, Mr. Smith, I killed a lot of people in a lot of different ways."

8.1/10

"Welcome to Australia!"

Epic in the truest sense, Baz Luhrmann's much-hyped Australia is a film that exhilarates with its grand themes and physical grandeur. Fundamentally the Australian response to classic war epics like Gone with the Wind and Lawrence of Arabia, Luhrmann's majestic motion picture is to date the most expensive Australian production in the country's history (with the budget rumoured to have elevated to about AU$160 million). Australia is Baz Luhrmann's ambitious, large-scale vision. The filmmaker has taken heed of his own mantra from Strictly Ballroom - that a life lived in fear is a life half lived. Luhrmann has gone for broke and the product, while true to his vision (which he passionately strived to accomplish over several gruelling years), will undoubtedly divide opinions. The film is marvellously shot and competently crafted (every cent of its budget appears on-screen); however it's also somewhat overlong and periodically ponderous. But bloody oath - Australia is a magnificent movie and an engrossing experience.

The tremendous hype preceding the film's eventual release is practically the ocker counterpart of the hype which engulfed the lead-up to The Dark Knight. The Australian tourist industry had hoped for Luhrmann's film to act as an effective tourism vehicle. The expectations for the movie were beyond preposterous. As much as it pains me to say, Australia doesn't entirely live up to its hype and it isn't an instant classic. To a degree it's fairly disappointing if you consider the continuous delays, its problematic production period, and Luhrmann's complete commitment to his project. But I kid you not - regardless of the slightly disappointing result, Australia is dead set one of the best Australian films of all time. Strewth.

Without being the second coming, Luhrmann's lavish saga of another two star-crossed lovers is everything he always promised - a sweeping, extravagant epic reminiscent of Gone with the Wind and Lawrence of Arabia with a hint of Howard Hawks' Red River. Laughs, tears, action, drama and visual splendour flourish in this genuinely stirring homage to classic war epics. Fear not - despite being a love story set against the backdrop of World War II, Australia never even remotely attempts to emulate Michael Bay's atrocious Pearl Harbor (and it's all the better for it). The script (constructed by Luhrmann with writing mates Stuart Beattie, Ronald Harwood and Richard Flanagan) is a rich tucker bag containing an anti-war message, thematic material about the Stolen Generations, and an abundance of typically Australian material.

Set within a two-year period between 1939 and 1941, Australia chronicles the escapades of two lovers in rural outback Australia. Lady Sarah Ashley (Kidman) becomes suspicious of her husband's stalling with the selling of their newest asset; a property known as Faraway Downs in Australia. Lady Ashley departs from England, bound for the Northern Territory to take matters into her own hands. Upon arrival in Darwin she is met by an unnamed man merely referred to as The Drover (Jackman). During an overland journey to Faraway Downs, the two develop a mutual dislike for each other (their arguing and the apparent culture clashes evoke memories of such films as The African Queen and Rooster Cogburn). Following an unexpected series of events, it's revealed that ruthless station manager Neil Fletcher (Wenham) is plotting with cattle baron King Carney (Brown) to acquire and take control of Faraway Downs. With the intention of saving her inherited property, The Drover agrees to help Sarah drive 1500 heads of cattle across the treacherous, desolate desert terrain to Darwin where they will be sold to the army. However, their herd of cattle must reach Darwin before Carney can sell his herd. In the meantime, the Japanese forces begin mobilising for the devastating attack on Darwin.

Beautifully implemented and absolutely breathtaking in scope, Australia is the definitive feather in Baz Luhrmann's filmmaking cap. Forget Romeo + Juliet, Strictly Ballroom and the surprisingly mediocre Moulin Rouge! - this is the one Baz will be remembered for. Whether Australia is deemed an epic flop or an epic masterpiece, it's still history in the making.
This much-stalled project initially starred Russell Crowe, and then Heath Ledger took the leading role before Hugh Jackman was eventually cast. This was just the first in an extensive succession of quandaries that inundated Australia's production prior to it finally reaching the big screen. Filming was delayed a few times, and then the principal photography period ran for about nine months. As the marketing campaign commenced mid-2008, delicious stories were abundant in relation to the editing process. Despite almost a year of post-production, Luhrmann and his team had to race against time in order to have the film delivered on time for its world premiere. In fact, Luhrmann applied the definitive touches merely days ahead of the premiere. Surprisingly, Australia looks incontestably assured on-screen.

Only dragging every so often during the 165-minute journey, Luhrmann's elaborate Aussie postcard is truly a marvellous visual feast to behold. Luhrmann predominantly avoids overusing CGI. He reserves most of the more expensive special effects for the spectacular bombing of Darwin. For its budget, the film delivers solid CGI. Luhrmann accomplishes the best results, though, from shooting to scale on location. The cattle driving sequences (utilising genuine animals as opposed to computer-generated cows) are reminiscent of the John Wayne golden years (think Red River or The Cowboys).

As we've naturally come to expect from Baz, the director makes maximum use of music. David Hirschfelder's marvellous score is poetic and atmospheric. It suits the mind-blowing cinematography and it perfectly encapsulates the ruggedness of the outback. Not only is Hirschfelder's score included, though... It's a commendable leap of cinematic faith to weave into this rich story the most familiar song from The Wizard of Oz - i.e. Somewhere over the Rainbow. Use of this song makes it an iconic and emblematic glue for the cultures and the dreams of the characters. For my money, this is the film's most sophisticated and complex element; it's a wonderful piece of creative brio. Crikey, it's bloody effective.

Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman may be heralded as the film's primary stars, but the actual star of this sprawling epic is the landscape it dotingly illustrates. It's enthralling to witness the majesty of a herd of wild brumbies galloping across the dusty plains... Or stampeding cattle trotting across the barren red earth; pounding hoofs melded with the intense percussion of Hirshfelder's arresting music. The stunning rock formations, the scorched desert, the flocks of hopping kangaroos, the contrasting waterways, and the magnificent sunsets are all shot to perfection by Mandy Walker. Catherine Martin's meticulousness in the costumes and production design is alluring and impressive. A viewer becomes absorbed by the power of the land and the mystical virtues it emanates. Towards the film's conclusion, the majestic scope of Baz's vision never impairs the story. He remembers Australia is all about a solid story, and it's not just a visual exercise. He finds the perfect balance (Terence Malick should take notes).

Luhrmann's three-hour Aussie tourism commercial stars almost every Australian actor that's still working. At centre stage, Jackman and Kidman are an ideal couple. Hugh Jackman exudes charisma and charm, never striking an incorrect posture and never delivering a dud line. With shirt on or off, the actor represents the quintessential Australian bloke...he's the Drover With No Name.
Nicole Kidman delivers her finest performance to date as the snooty upper-class English aristocrat. But the chemistry between Kidman and Jackman is underwhelming. Their spontaneous dance in the outback and kiss in the rain seem merely perfunctory for the sake of a love story. However as individual actors, their respective character portrayals are credible and stunning.
Young twelve-year-old Brandon Walters as young Nullah is indeed a rare treat. It is his voice that tells the story behind Australia - encompassing topics like spirituality, greed, discrimination, love and war. Walters is wholly believable in the role. David Wenham is terrifically sinister and suitably menacing as the villain. Bryan Brown makes an appearance as the scheming King Carney. Also in the cast are such Aussie actors as John Jarratt, Ben Mendelsohn, Barry Otto, Bill Hunter and Bruce Spence. All appear reasonably briefly, but they're recognisable and uniformly excellent. However the performances from the lesser known actors are wonderful revelations.

There are a number of missteps, though. At a mammoth 165 minutes it at times seems like a work-in-progress. Even with the endless edits and the prolonged post-production period, there is a lot of narrative flab. Then again, both Gone with the Wind and Lawrence of Arabia suffered similarly from being narratively inept at times. It isn't necessarily boring, but there's a lot of excess. The ending is also contrived and is added for the sake of a happy ending. It's quite unsatisfying, and shows Baz isn't willing to pull the rug out from underneath his unsuspectingly audience. For the final fifteen minutes he plays it safe, which is slightly detrimental.
In addition, Baz overuses slow motion. In all likelihood, the disproportionate amount of slo-mo extends the movie's runtime by approximately half an hour. A majority of the sweeping slo-mo shots of the Australian outback reek of self-indulgence.

Australia has opened to an extraordinarily tough reception. The film will unquestionably be a difficult international sell. Aussie clichés and slang are in large supply. The thematic material may also throw an international audience. The stolen generations, racial tension, and Aboriginal Dreamtime are among the topics weaved into the story. Nulla even uses Aboriginal "magic" at times which may appear silly to those unfamiliar with Aboriginal history. This reviewer abhors the bloody drongos who dislike the film purely for its Aussie themes. You've gotta give it a fair go.

All things considered, Baz Luhrmann's Australia is a stirring ode to his home country that unites kangaroos, didgeridoos, the outback, a cattle drive, Japanese air raids and Hugh Jackman's abs. This anxiously anticipated film isn't a perfect 5-star tour de force, but it certainly isn't the below-average failure several people have dreaded. The detail which permeates Luhrmann's project is staggering, and probably impossible to fully appreciate upon a first viewing. As the credits roll, we take with us the breathtaking imagery of a distinct, vast land, as well as the unforgettable face of an innocent boy whose culture is slowly growing invisible. A lot of people are going to hate the movie, and to an extent their hatred is justified. I, however, respectfully disagree - Australia is a true blue, fair dinkum Aussie masterpiece. You can relax and get some sleep now, Baz. You did it.

The Drover: "They keep out of my way, and I keep out of theirs. That's the way it is."
Lady Sarah Ashley: "Just because it is...doesn't mean it should be".

8.6/10

"I'm not a gangster. I'm a businessman whose commodity happens to be cocaine."

Obviously descended from the creative vision of Quentin Tarantino (and, to an extent, Guy Ritchie), Layer Cake is an enjoyably slick, visually ornate British gangster movie which provided Daniel Craig with the star-making role he deserved. Prior to his directorial debut here, director Matthew Vaughn had worked as a producer on Guy Ritchie's Snatch. and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Therefore this particular film is similarly energised and violent. Despite all this, Vaughn's low-budget crime picture falls under the unfortunate category of "Just Another British Gangster Movie". As it joyfully rattles along at an invigorating speed, it's somewhat deficient in originality and it's virtually impossible to elude the feeling that you've seen it all before in different manifestations.

Layer Cake is also one of those movies that cause you to feel dumb - if, that is, you're not dedicating every ounce of your attention to it. The plot seems moderately logical and straightforward, but (as the title may well imply) there are copious layers to absorb. The film is super-slick, stylish and enjoyable; however it's convoluted beyond all comprehension and occasionally taxing to follow.

"You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like. Welcome to the layer cake son."

Based on the novel by J.J. Connolly (who also wrote the screenplay), Layer Cake commences with an "Obligatory Gangster-movie Voiceover Introduction™" from the protagonist only known as XXXX (Craig). This customary voiceover brings a viewer up to speed with the essential policies and workings of the cocaine dealing business. Mr. X has made a fortune in the industry by preserving his anonymity, keeping things flowing efficiently and never getting his hands dirty. With a substantial quantity of money safely invested, Mr X. intends to quit the career of a cocaine peddler, and arranges to depart from England in order to begin a new life. On the eve of his planned early retirement, crime boss Jimmy Price (Cranham) bestows him with two assignments: negotiate the sale of one million hits of ecstasy, and track down the daughter of a crime boss. Naturally, nothing goes exactly as planned.

Layer Cake offers a tremendously convoluted and bewildering plot, rampant in double (and triple)-crosses and swarming with a massive cast of vibrant characters contending for screen-time. There are flashbacks witnessed from multiple viewpoints, with significant events often cross-cut in methods difficult to follow. To prevent yourself from being left behind it's crucial to pay very close attention at all times, otherwise you'll be lost in the fast-paced developments. Fortunately, the picture is held together by the ornately-developed characters and an inherent fascination in the story. Even at its most garrulous, the movie is able to keep a viewer interested enough to at least want to decipher it. The film encompasses instances of shocking violence, but it baulks at exaggerated gore. There's also a plethora of wily humour, but it thankfully doesn't go overboard with it.

"England. Typical. Even drug dealers don't work weekends."

Taking the long view, Layer Cake will almost certainly be remembered as the picture that got Daniel Craig his James Bond gig. Formerly a hardworking but little-noticed supporting player in films such as Road to Perdition and the first Tomb Raider, Craig's charismatic turn as the unnamed protagonist demonstrated his genuine star potential. Be that as it may, though, I admit I have grave qualms about Craig as James Bond. Regardless of this, his performance is effortlessly cool in Layer Cake; debonair and deadly serious, self-effacingly droll and vulnerable, Craig shows his acting chops and ability to carry a feature.
Under Vaughn's economical direction, Craig's anonymous drug purveyor is the engaging focus of this often gripping film; an appealing and humane presence, which is a breath of fresh air after the cartoon archetypes present in Guy Ritchie's prior films. Craig believably disappears into XXXX's skin and situation, playing the predicament in an entirely convincing manner from start to finish.
There's also stalwart support from Colm Meaney, Kenneth Cranham, Jamie Foreman, Michael Gambon and George Harris (among others) who provide a pitch-perfect chorus of Britain's social underbelly - a flawlessly devised cacophony of career criminals and various wannabe cretins. Sienna Miller has the obligatory lingerie scene and nothing much else as Craig's love interest in an inadequately developed and unconvincing sub-plot. The hero's immediate infatuation with her seems out of character, even if the storyline plays a somewhat crucial role later on.

"It is vital that we work to a few golden rules. Always work in a small team. Keep a very low profile. Only deal with people who come recommended. And it's like selling anything else: washing machines, hand made shoes, blowjobs. As long as you don't take the piss people will always come back for more. And that is not to say we don't have that special kind of magic that makes two kilos into three. But never be too greedy."

The British gangland movie genre has become an over-used premise. In a national industry so tiny and in urgent need of revitalisation there are too few Danny Boyles and too many Guy Ritchies. British filmmakers cannot afford to continually rely on clichés; the industry isn't big enough to afford the luxury of recycled goods. The biggest problem of Layer Cake is that the movie suffers from "seen it all before" syndrome. No faults in the film's filmic implementation; the script just lacks original ideas. It ultimately fails to bring anything truly innovative to the gangster movie genre. The only thing setting it apart is a refreshing lack of the caricaturing and childish humour. Another pivotal setback is that it doesn't include a remarkable, show-stopping set-piece to make it more memorable. The rest of the flaws arrive at the end; it has trouble concluding the several storylines acceptably, and the conclusion feels both predictable and tacked-on. A real shame, because Layer Cake is unpredictable for roughly 80% of its runtime.

In his directorial debut, Vaughn demonstrates a striking sense of elegance and style. In addition, Vaughn's glossy shots of the London skyline draw obvious inspiration from Michael Mann (thanks to the wonderful contributions of cinematographer Ben Davis). Layer Cake encapsulates London's essence without "Americanising" it. London is depicted as it is - an affluent European capital. Filmed in Amsterdam as well as various studios in England, Vaughn's film commemorates London as much as it glorifies the drug trade within. It's a stylish and polished film, with 360-degree shots, aerial shots, and interesting up-angle shots. Most of the visual interest is derived from these fascinating camera angles. All the energy in the cinematography, coupled with Lisa Gerrard's captivating score, make this an engaging night of entertainment.

"My name? If you knew that, you'd be as clever as me."

Layer Cake is a twisty, engrossing film noir that clearly avoids being consigned as a trivial effort from "that new Bond guy". Fans of Guy Ritchie's films will most likely be extremely happy with Vaughn's directorial debut; he bequeaths his photography with buckets of style and it's a lot of fun to watch. The intensity generated by this thoughtful thriller produces often gripping moments. From start to finish, this is a riveting flick. Never is there a notable boring moment in amongst the fast-paced occurrences and intriguing visual style. The cinematography is vaguely hampered, though, by the undeniable style over substance - the film should've been a bit more original, and (for my taste) it'd also be superior if it required less serious concentration. Nevertheless, there are far worse British films in existence. This is a smart, entertaining thriller - and far more than just a footnote in a rising star's career.

"Always remember that one day all this drug monkey business will be legal. They won't leave it to people like me... not when they finally figure out how much money is to be made - not millions, fucking billions. Recreational drugs PLC - giving the people what they want... Good times today, Stupor tomorrow. But this is now, so until prohibition ends make hay whilst the sun shines."

7.8/10

"Let me give you a word of advice. Always bet on black!"

Passenger 57 appears to be set in an alternate world commonly inhabited by a majority of 90's action flicks: plot elements (and developments, for that matter) are merely perfunctory, bad guys can't shoot straight, the crafty hero is impervious to bullets (which, for the most part, miraculously whip around him), and illogicalities flourish. There's a profusion of ooh and ahs in this by-the-numbers shoot-'em-up Die Hard clone keen to establish Wesley Snipes as the coolest action hero this side of Bruce Willis.
This routine hijack action affair lacks the intelligence and class to match the Die Hard films it clearly desires to emulate; however what the film lacks in logic it compensates with relentless action. In all seriousness, there isn't a great deal one can state in relation to this film from a critical viewpoint. It's a technically sturdy film, but it's rather logically inept and it fails to offer anything overwhelmingly groundbreaking.

Wesley Snipes quips, glares and Kung fus his way through the film as airline security expert John Cutter. He's offered the job of chief of security at American International Airlines, which he accepts. En route to Los Angeles, Cutter is placed on the same aircraft escorting notorious terrorist Charles Rane (Payne) to LA where he will most likely face the death sentence. As fate would have it, Rane's evil accomplices gain entry to the plane. When Rane hijacks the plane, there is only one hope for everyone on-board - John Cutter (who's sitting in seat 57, therein justifying the title). Cue a wealth of shootouts, a dash of blood and some exciting heroics.

It says something about the despondent lack of originality in Hollywood and of the influence of Die Hard on the action genre when audiences are offered two Die Hard imitators in the same year - Under Siege with Steven Seagal and the film in question; Passenger 57. This is primarily conventional moviemaking, but it slightly rises above the norm due to its enthralling action sequences and ability to entertain for every second of its brisk 80-minute duration.

Small-time director Kevin Hooks orchestrates several glorious action scenes. As Wesley Snipes demonstrates his expertise in martial arts, Hooks' lens captures it adroitly. Throughout the film's to-the-point runtime Hooks shows a masterly skill at plunging the viewer into the heart of the action and keeping a viewer's pulse pounding. There's little time to lull or stall as it moves from concise dialogue scenes to the action. No fat attached, no deep character development, and no genuinely insightful dialogue. The sheer outrageousness of the shootouts is to be criticised, though. Bullets being fired on a commercial airplane? I don't think so... A misfired bullet should screw with the plane's controls, and bullets should exit a victim who's just been shot - breaking a window or something. It's entertaining nonsense wholly neglecting intelligence.

Special effects are fairly laudable considering its time, and the funky score accompanying the visuals (courtesy of '70s jazz-rocker Stanley Clarke) is above-average. Perhaps the film could've been superior if only the material wasn't played so seriously. A bit of Die Hard-ish humour would do some good. It's also very cheesy (the winding down following the villain's demise is worthy of chortles and ridiculing out of sheer disgust).

Passenger 57 is boosted by the top-flight performance of Wesley Snipes. He essentially plays an interchangeable character that could have been written for Bruce Willis, Sylvester Stallone or even Arnold Schwarzenegger or Steven Seagal. Snipes' likable, fast-talking airline security expert enlivens the slapdash plot with his physical grace and impressive martial arts skills. His action-hero gymnastics on and off the plane evoke 1990's Die Hard 2: Die Harder. More importantly, the fact that Snipes' Cutter battles both terrorists and self-absorbed bureaucrats mimics the little-guy-against-the-system virtue of Bruce Willis' John McClane (from the Die Hard series).
Bruce Payne plays the cunning, ruthless, psychopathic, ominous villain of the film. He's the Euro-terrorist following the mould of Die Hard's Alan Rickman whose menace is the apparent contradiction of his articulate, well-spoken English and off-handed brutality. But he's a feebly-written character; amid all the killing he ultimately forgets to have a solid cause.
Look out for an incredibly youthful Elizabeth Hurley as a stewardess-come-hijacker. Tom Sizemore also appears in the form of Cutter's best buddy. In order to further solidify the film's shameless stance as a conventional action flick, Sizemore's character is named Sly (you know...as in Sylvester Stallone).

Fundamentally Die Hard on a plane - Fly Hard, if you will - this is a slick, adrenaline-pumping action flick. In spite of the countless nits to be picked from the sloppy script (the climax is hopelessly preposterous), and the reliance on formula (who would've possibly presumed the hero would kill the villain?), this is thunderously good fun and you could certainly do a lot worse. The action sequences are exhilarating, Snipes is magnetic as well as athletic as the primary hero, and it spawned a lot of the "plane" action movies such as Air Force One and Executive Decision. It's a basic, formulaic, entertaining time-waster.

"You know, that's what I admire about you! Even though you are being hit on by absolutely beautiful woman, you are determined to maintaining your vow of chastity. You know, you'd make a hell of a republican!"

5.9/10