Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"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

"We killed a man, Drew. Shot him in the back. A mountain man. A cracker."

Based on James Dickey's best-selling 1970 novel, John Boorman's Deliverance is a fateful tour of rugged Georgia terrain which functions as a potent reminder that we can always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shot on a shoestring budget on location in northern Georgia, Boorman's most arresting picture is a straightforward tale told with passion, heart and urgency. Deliverance is a compelling, deeply disturbing film which hasn't lost its bite or thrill all these decades later. "He's got a real purty mouth, ain't he?" and "I bet you can squeal like a pig" are two quotes capable of sending shivers down a man's spine if they're familiar with this remarkable film. With its superb Oscar-nominated direction, enthralling cinematography, an evocative score and challenging adult themes; Deliverance is a taut, tense, hauntingly disconcerting thriller that remains one of the decade's most visceral adventures.

Four ordinary city slickers (or at least three since one fancies himself a steely outdoorsman) agree to take a camping/canoeing trip as they're intent on seeing the Cahulawassee River before it's turned into one huge lake. Ed (Voight), Lewis (Reynolds), Bobby (Beatty) and Drew (Cox) plan to indulge in a tranquil journey packed with male bonding and sheer exhilarating adventure. As the men navigate the wilderness they think they understand, disaster befalls their adventure and they descend into an unimaginable nightmare. Both nature and mankind conspire to propel them through a crucible of peril and degradation during which their lives and possibly even their souls are put in staggering danger.

At its most fundamental level, Deliverance is a tale of endurance and survival. But the film doesn't merely concern surviving the hazards of the wilderness or of human threats; it's about surviving one's own heart of darkness, about confronting one's basest needs and accepting or declining them. The relatively straightforward boating venture turns into a multifaceted story of existence, with each of the four buddies compelled to reach deep within themselves to unearth a new meaning for courage.

Deliverance is simultaneously a story of outer destitution and fortitude, and inner endurance and integrity. Furthermore, Boorman has the directorial audacity to pace the film at a more relaxed tempo as opposed to the breakneck speed of contemporary action films. By doing this, the director allots time to develop the characters and establish the conflicts. In this fashion Boorman amplifies the mood of apprehension and trepidation by permitting these elements to evolve naturally and logically. Make no mistake: the pacing is ponderous and careful. Shots are generally lengthy and wide. The film gently ensnares you in its gripping atmosphere as a result of the masterful storytelling. To some this approach may appear "boring" as their attention spans are limited. To me it's effective and subversive. If there's anything to criticise, it's the sporadic substance deficiency. Perhaps it does tend to drag on a smidgen, but there's no denying the power of this movie. The images and noises conveyed throughout the rape scene...are unforgettable.

"Goddamn, you play a mean banjo."

Most entertaining is the legendary "duelling banjos" sequence towards the beginning of the film. Incidentally, the famous tune isn't two banjos at all - but a banjo and a guitar (performed behind-the-scenes by Eric Weissberg and Steve Mandel). The director reportedly chose young Billy Redden as the banjo player due to his bizarre outward show, but the boy had never appeared in a movie beforehand and was unable play the banjo. To solve the problem, Boorman found another boy capable of playing the instrument. For filming, the boy was hidden behind Redden with just his arm and hand visible for the banjo fingering. How novel.

Luckily, Deliverance is far more than duelling banjos and...well, squealin' like a pig. Immediately it's possible to identify with the characters as the screenwriter (Dickey, who wrote the original novel, acted as the screenwriter here) bestows them with three-dimensional qualities. Each possesses different ideals, ambitions and moral codes. In the acting department, faults are scarce. Deliverance offers harrowing, natural performances that anchor the occasionally over-the-top story with logic and believability.

Burt Reynolds' tough-guy persona (established at the beginning of the film) is soon reduced to a shell of himself; crying and complaining following a bitter injury at some point throughout the journey. Before defiling his CV with tosh such as 2008's woeful In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale, Reynolds was a gifted actor and his talent is omnipresent during every scene in which he features.
Jon Voight as Ed provides a reluctant yet poised centre, virtually becoming the group's leader towards the film's conclusion. Ed is a well-written character who's stunningly realised by Voight, and he's a man most of us can sympathise with.
Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox made their film debuts here. Cox provides the team's moral core, bringing his love for music and a sturdy conscience even in critical circumstances. Beatty plays the unlucky victim during the film's most chilling and heartbreaking sequence, emphasising the group's doggedness through innocence lost. Since not all return from the expedition (none return completely intact, for that matter), the tragic proceedings are far more affecting when told in such a linear manner. All the actors performed their own stunts to conserve costs (Voight even had to climb the rock formation without any safety measures!) and had no form of health insurance.

Deliverance remains a gripping tale of morality and mortality, as effective and brawny now as it was when it first debuted decades ago. You'll seldom find an adventure film with as many thoughtful subtexts as Deliverance. It is an unflinching and absorbing examination of mankind's dark disposition and violent propensities in the face of danger. It laudably paints a picture depicting the protagonists as antagonists. Brutal and unwavering, Deliverance doesn't pull any punches in its depiction of a fairly shocking story. Author James Dickey's imagination spawned this disturbing tale of violation, murder and endurance, but the visualisation by director Boorman and co raises the stakes even higher. The film surges with masterful storytelling, and draws in a viewer with the indomitable force of a raging current. It's simply a haunting, nightmarish vision and a landmark piece of classic filmmaking.

Nominated for three Oscars: Best Picture (lost to The Godfather), Best Editing for Tom Priestley (lost to David Bretherton for Cabaret) and Best Directing for John Boorman (lost to Bob Fosse for Cabaret).

"Sometimes you have to lose yourself 'fore you can find anything."

8.9/10

"I am so scared! I don't know what's out there. We are going to die out here! I am so scared!"

Major movie studios frequently pour tens of millions of dollars into high-tech horror extravaganzas, and they die at the box office within a matter of days. A few independent filmmakers venture out into the woods with hand-held cameras and an extraordinarily low-budget to back them up, and they score a much-hyped, highly-acclaimed box office bonanza!
The Blair Witch Project originated as a deceptively simple, ultra low-budget independent feature. Slowly, this small-time film developed into one of the most chilling, creepy films of its time. It took unsuspecting audiences entirely by surprise, and scared other movie studios whose gigantically budgeted films were running in fear from the tiny movie.

The Blair Witch Project is distinguished for various reasons. First of all, it is incredibly eerie, atmospheric, and unpredictably exasperating. Secondly, compared to most other horror films of the time, it is innovative and clever. Blair Witch did spawn its own sub-genre as a result. These guys wrote the rulebook for the "found footage" genre, and filmmakers have adhered to it ever since (Cloverfield, anyone?). Thirdly, it was made on a shoestring budget and returned a mint in box office profits. Fourth, it used the internet to fabulous promotional effect. Fifth, after all these years it has become more of a phenomenon than a conventional viewing experience. And lastly, it instils a sense of "less is more", leaving a lot more to the imagination than most other fright flicks.

By now all and sundry should be aware of the movie's gimmick. "In October of 1994," reads the prologue, "three student filmmakers disappeared in the woods near Burkittsville, Maryland, while shooting a documentary... A year later their footage was found." The "documentary" being filmed by the students was a college project about a local legendary figure known as the Blair Witch. Allegedly, the three youthful filmmakers died under mysterious circumstances in the woods while trying to complete the documentary, and their bodies never turned up.

Heather Donahue, Michael Williams and Joshua Leonard (retaining their real names for heightened realism) take a video camera and a 16mm film camera as they hike through the Black Hills Forest in search of evidence in relation to the existence of the Blair Witch who has supposedly haunted the forest since the 18th century and is credited for scores of heinous murders. They interview local townspeople before embarking on a hike into the forest. They are soon inexplicably lost and morale rapidly deteriorates. The filmmakers are tired, hungry, angry, and hopelessly lost. As tension mounts they realise they're also being haunted and probably stalked by some unknown presence...and there is no way out.

"I'm afraid to close my eyes, I'm afraid to open them."

Heather captures virtually everything with her video camera with the intention of assembling a behind-the-scenes look at how her documentary was made. Heather's camera is on practically all the time - to the point that her companions continually tell her to turn off the camera. As the unseen evil hunts them, they realise they're not filming a legend but a descent into unimaginable terror.

Naturally, every word of Blair Witch is fiction... The movie is a complete forgery, but it was made and promoted so cunningly that countless people worldwide thought it was real. Prior to the film's theatrical release, a site for The Blair Witch Project was launched. As of the film's tenth anniversary, this website is still online. It offers insight into the (completely false) myth of the Blair Witch. Although the film is 100% fiction, naïve movie-goers witnessed screenings at their local cinema believing everything to be true.

"It's not the same on film is it? I mean, you know it's real, but it's like looking through the lens gives you some sort of protection from what's on the other side."

Blair Witch is a film where ignorance is bliss - or, to be more accurate in this case, utter terror. Ostensibly the final testament of a film crew who disappeared off the face of the planet, the movie bears a resemblance to an authentic documentary which makes This Is Spinal Tap seem like a David Lean epic.
Ahead of its theatrical release, the film fooled many American college students who were shown the film - the ruse in this case was abetted by a surplus of apparently legitimate "Missing" posters seeking information concerning the whereabouts of the apparently lost youngsters. Such screenings helped spawn the positive word-of-mouth that directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez knew would be unquestionably vital if their little film was to be a success. Its air of mystery was definitely the film's strongest selling point - featuring little in the way of stars, special effects or even competent cinematography. The directors could hardly claim much of a notable cinematic track record either. But the pair shared an adoration of 70s horror flicks and decided to pool their meagre income for a feature that would endeavour to evoke the visceral terror they felt upon initially viewing William Friedkin's The Exorcist.

"Because this is America! We've exhausted all of our natural resources!"

Co-director Sanchez recalls the experience: "We were after complete realism. We knew that if we did it with a crew it wouldn't work. From the beginning we wanted to do Blair Witch as an improvised film. We were basically going to leave the actors for certain amounts of time on their own, tell them what was happening and let them shoot it for a couple of hours at a time. Then we'd come back, review the footage and go on to the next scene." But it was the input of Gregg Hale - a onetime Special Forces sergeant - that ensured the film a place on the horror hall of fame. He reportedly said: "When I was in Special Forces training they put us through this POW camp scenario. And after about two or three days of being in that camp surrounded by these guys hitting you, and yelling at you in Russian, and not letting you sleep, and hosing you down with water, you start to believe that it's really happening. You know, we could do this to the actors!" Myrick and Sanchez were delighted at the idea.

So it was that a trio of unknown actors found themselves pretending to compose a film concerning the fictitious ancient woods-dwelling witch while being truly petrified as the film crew deposited ominous-looking stick men in their path or played tapes of children crying in the middle of the night. "We were the Blair Witch," Myrick reminiscences. "We had to get up at three in the morning and run around their tent. We had to hike through the woods to drop off directing notes. Then we'd review Heather's video tapes at the end of the day to see how it was reading on camera."

"Flames are licking you like the devil there, Josh."

The element that makes The Blair Witch Project unusually gripping is the atypical presentation. Every scene is a point-of-view shot, shown exactly as one might expect from someone carrying around a video camera. The transitions are unexpected and often jarring - what we'd expect if the camera was turned off at one point, then turned back on later. The most chilling sequences transpire at night when the darkness foils the video. There are instances when the screen is entirely black and all we hear is the audio - the panicked voices of the protagonists in the foreground with strange, macabre noises in the background. At other times the action depicted is chaotic, often because the person doing the filming would be running or unsure what to capture. These segments rely on the imagination of a viewer to fill in the gaps. What our minds conjure up is always more horrifying than anything the filmmakers can put on screen. Also, this seemingly haphazard and unprofessional technique gives the audience a "you are there" feeling that draws them into the experience. Everything that transpires is hence more shocking and immediate than it would seem in a conventional format.

The trio of actors are uniformly excellent. For amplified realism, the filmmakers had to genuinely scare the actors...and they did. There are a few traces of artifice, though, usually when characters are having a conversation on-camera. But due to the improvisational style of acting, it's easy to get engaged in the problems of these characters. When Heather offers a tearful apology towards the end, it's utterly heartbreaking.

There are things to nitpick, though. For starters it's preposterous that the camera is on for so long. Once one is in danger, why bother filming anymore? I doubt anyone would keep filming under these circumstances. However the key fault is the occasional lack of realism. For example, the trio all have mentioned loved ones who would be aware of their expedition. Any parent whose offspring doesn't show up merely hours after they are due home would call the police and launch a search. The filmmakers endue for days...without a search party in sight. Surely the police would have also been informed of the proposed camping trip as well, and would've launched a search when they didn't return home. There's also the flaw of character stupidity. One character reportedly gets rid the map because it's "useless" - not good enough! And they're surrounded by tall trees, why not climb up to the top and see where you are? Why not find higher ground in order to spot a way out? The film also seems undercut at a bit under 80 minutes. In the faux interviews on the official site they mention about 20 hours of recovered footage, so it's obvious we're missing out on a lot of stuff. But the most lethal setback is simple: once you realise it isn't real the film is not scary at all. It isn't competent enough to truly convince a viewer it is real. Overuse of profanity and the aforementioned character stupidity occasionally kill the illusion. However it is pretty chilling with the grating screams of Heather or the eerie sounds coming from pitch black.

It's fairly riveting, though it depends on how you view it. If one watches it in a dark room at night with no interruptions and you're paying 100% attention it may work better. If it's light and you're not paying much attention, you'll hate it.

"You gonna write us a happy ending, Heather?"

The Blair Witch Project is notoriously inventive - both in its creation and marketing - but it's a victim of its own hype. Once you discover it isn't real you'll no longer find it scary. Yet it's an innovative, non-traditional horror movie that ushered in a new genre (titles like Diary of the Dead, Cloverfield and [Rec] drew inspiration from this film). The ending is very creepy and irritatingly ambiguous, especially if you want to believe the film's universe and faux mythology available on the official website. The Blair Witch Project has lost much of its original impact. Be that as it may, the combination of cinema verité and fake documentary filming occasionally generates some hair-raising horror scenes.

"OK, here's your motivation. You're lost, you're angry in the woods, and no one is here to help you. There's a witch and she keeps leaving shit outside your door. There's no one here to help you! She left little trinkets, you took one of them, she ran after us. There's no one here to help you! We walked for 15 hours today, we ended up in the same place! There's no one here to help you, THAT'S your motivation! THAT'S YOUR MOTIVATION!"

6.2/10

"I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage that you don't care who you hurt. When you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to go."

Quantum of Solace was intended to be the sweet dessert to compliment the main course preceding it (i.e. 2006's Casino Royale). By this I mean Casino Royale developed the characters and established the plot (all the vegetables, so to speak) with very minimal amounts of action (the sweet portions of the meal, in a manner of speaking). Quantum of Solace therefore establishes a reason for itself to offer nothing more than pure action. And therein lies the unforgivable, lethal flaw of this film: it's all action and style without an ounce of soul or substance. Even with the "sweet dessert" philosophy applied, Quantum of Solace is only marginally redeemed.

Usually there's no problem with an overabundance of action, but it's crucial for action to be two things to make it work - comprehensible and exciting. The action in this particular Bond outing fails to adequately adhere to these aforementioned necessities. But the film's predominant fatality is its over-reliance on its predecessor. Casino Royale established the story; however CR's story hopelessly lost momentum into its final third. The story was milked until the milk began turning sour, thus there was virtually no interesting story remaining for Quantum of Solace to continue. Consequently the story is stilted and convoluted to the point of non-existence. Bond dashes around an action arena shooting every individual he can aim for. He shoots first, asks questions later. He is grilled by his superiors for this, but the film's self-awareness of Bond's new killing policy doesn't redeem this flaw.
Quantum of Solace tries to do something unimaginable: it endeavours to compete with the Jason Bourne films. It jettisons a solid story in favour of continuing a story which seemingly felt already complete. The result? Fundamentally an extended trailer (that at the same time feels tragically underwritten) featuring our beloved Agent 007 in name only form.

"I am motivated by my duty."

The film kicks off almost exactly where Casino Royale ended. In the timeline, the first scene in Quantum of Solace occurs merely one hour after the end of CR, hence the first Bond adventure in history to establish chronological obligations to its forerunner.
James Bond (Craig) becomes obsessed with revealing the mystery behind a top-secret organisation known as QUANTUM (a modern-day SPECTRE). Bond desires to exact revenge for the death of his girlfriend Vesper (played by Eva Green in Casino Royale) who was blackmailed by the enigmatic organisation. His off-the-grid investigation leads 007 to Austria, Italy and Bolivia, along the way crossing paths with the nefarious Dominic Greene (Amalric, keeping both eyes open after 2007's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly). Bond soon uncovers a plot to control the world via the water supply. (Yes, the movie is about water. Why not make the next Bond villain intent on eliminating a breed of moose in Alaska?)

The principal flaw with the story of Quantum of Solace is simple: it doesn't have one. A conventional Sylvester Stallone affair offers a more intricate plot. In Fleming's Casino Royale novel, Vesper dies and Bond moves on. The truth behind Vesper's enforced betrayal is so clearly set up during the last film, but it becomes hopelessly lost in a welter of unnecessary distraction and abandoned threads. This film acts as a bridge to complete Bond's origins tale before allowing the series to proceed to more conventional Bond canon entries. In all honesty, every blundering frame of Quantum of Solace seems every bit as useless as the one preceding it. If the screenwriters didn't make Casino Royale so despondently long-winded, they could have summarised a fairly adequate Bond origins tale in the space of just one movie.

Marc Forster (the genius behind Finding Neverland, Stranger than Fiction and Monster's Ball, just to name a few) has adequate skill to tackle different genres with each new film on his résumé. Alas, action/adventure isn't a genre Forster is capable of handling. Director Martin Campbell offered exhilarating action scenes in Casino Royale as they were competently handled. But for this sequel Forster succumbs to the baffling technique of each shot lasting a nanosecond. When it comes to an action scene it's crucial to offer an opportunity for a viewer to confidently distinguish what is happening and, critically, why it's happening. A sequence intercutting an opera house shoot-out with a performance of Tosca is virtually impossible to follow. Veteran Bond directors have been capable of orchestrating action with confidence. Martin Campbell's sweeping action scenes in both Casino Royale and 1995's GoldenEye are simple to follow and enjoyable to watch. In this case Forster generates zero tension. As guns are fired and things explode, a viewer can't discern who's been killed.

70% of the film's 100-minute duration is action. The prevailing philosophy appears to be "when in doubt, cut to the chase". Every time an intriguing dialogue scene is established a gun is commonly pulled out and bullets begin to fly. Each scene develops into an excuse for action. The film tears, rips, bangs and shatters but says zilch. No pop. No fizz. No story. When the action scenes aren't handled well (and quality of action in a Bond film is essential), there's something gravely wrong.

Quantum of Solace opens with a frenetic car chase. There's a great deal ruckus occurring on the roads, but it's so perplexingly filmed, hence impossible to decipher what's happening and why. Cameras are placed at awkward angles, shots are too tight and it's outright jarring. Unfortunately, these poor filming techniques mar action sequences throughout the film. The narrative fights a losing battle with Forster's cinematic style and in the end it's the audience that loses. Valuable information is barely discernable in a jumble of dissonant images. No sequence of shots ever grips the attention of a viewer. There isn't a sufficient spine to hold the fast moving elements together. The opening car chase is breakneck (albeit jarring, as I said before), but the film's other action set-pieces are a decidedly mixed bag. There are a few crisp footraces, some semi-coherent punch-outs and an awful boat pileup that evokes agonising memories of the invisible car Pierce Brosnan tooled around in a few movies ago. After the opening car chase, the film moves onto the traditional opening credits sequence. The title song (performed by Jack White and Alicia Keys) is an abysmal cacophony of indecipherable lyrics and mismatched musical idioms. The title sequence over which those idioms do squalling battle is likewise disharmonious: conceptually clever yet visually grating. It's a pleasure to witness the return of silhouettes of naked women in the opening title sequence, but as a whole it's tragically unremarkable.

James Bond is supposed to be a spy. Yet the definition of a spy is one who employs convert methods while remaining underneath the radar. Here Bond is swinging, shooting, punching, diving and flying...yep, just like Jason Bourne. Being depressed about losing a loved one isn't an acceptable reason for Bond to abandon his orders. Bond is also transformed into more of a superhuman in this instalment. Towards the end Bond battles in an exploding building. Looks like game over for anyone human...but Bond utters cringe-worthy dialogue before miraculously escaping without even appearing threatened. The stylish, brainy secret service agent created by Ian Fleming (and established quite well in Casino Royale) is dead. He's been reincarnated in the form of a PlayStation game character. In fact, the abundance of stupid action scenes probably allows more of a compelling video game spin-off. But that's the thing - Quantum of Solace feels like a video game with all action and little substance.

The relatively smart character exploration of Casino Royale has been jettisoned. There is also a distinct lack of classy dialogue. All the explication confuses matters - from inaudible exposition (the dialogue is subdued in the sound mix which seems ruled by gunshots and explosions) to a Minority Report-style briefing sequence (it's so visually overripe that one's attention constantly shifts from the unclear dialogue to fussy imagery with little chance to extract meaning from either). For over forty years, Bond films have been standalone features with few recurring characters and few references to previous escapades. Quantum of Solace is a direct follow-up to Casino Royale, yet there is no recap of anything. If an audience hasn't seen CR for a while, how are they supposed to remember the Bond/Vesper romance? The Mr. White character would also appear pretty puzzling. But continuing the story where the last film ended probably seems so contemporary and the producers probably feel smart for doing so. After all, the Bourne series are one large chunk of connected happenings split into three films. This marks another example of evidence that Bond has become a clone of Bourne. That's the problem: it desperately tries to be something it clearly is not, nor was ever designed to be.

It's not a total disaster, though. The action is occasionally visceral, invigorating and hard-hitting when director Forster gets it right. And the colourful globe-trotting (while occasionally unnecessary) is marvellous. As much as it pains me to admit, it did pass the time and it wasn't boring. To an extent I did enjoy it. The stunt-work is to be admired, and the delightful mayhem (while not captured particularly well) is somewhat intense. The ending is also to be lauded. The film effectively wraps up the Vesper tale with a neat ribbon, and the scene is set for classic Bond to return (the gun-barrel sequence is even right at the end, signifying that Bond is now the Bond we remember).

Quantum of Solace is a bitter, incoherent, unclear, messy action film without any soul or substance. Poor Marc Forster doesn't adapt well to the action genre, with several quick cuts in the space of one second detracting from the film's excitement. The Bond origins story didn't need to be stretched into two movies. This film is just pure silly action. In the Bond canon it isn't the worst (Moonraker receives that honour), but it's sitting towards the bottom. Heck, I even enjoyed Die Another Day far more than this dreary film! As a continuation of Casino Royale, Bond 22 is unspeakably lacklustre. As a standalone movie it's even worse. Only die-hard Bond purists will have any reason to check this one out. The Bond Ultimatum is a more appropriate title.

On that note, an ultimatum for EON: return Bond to the smart stories with menacing villains. Also give him the charm, the trademark one-liners and womanising. And for the love of God hire a director who knows how to direct action scenes!

M: "It'd be a pretty cold bastard who didn't want revenge for the death of someone he loved."
James Bond:" I don't think the dead care about vengeance."

5.2/10

Agent Griffin Dowd: "What's he into?"
Agent Jennifer Marsh: "High-end tech and low-end porn."
Agent Griffin Dowd: "You sure he's a guy? If it's a women, she could be my soulmate."

Psychological thrillers, such as Untraceable, are far more welcome these days than woeful gore porn films like Hostel or (god forbid) Saw with its never-ending flow of sequels of increasing mediocrity (as of 2008, Saw is up to its fifth entry...with six and seven already announced. I doubt even my great-grandkids will love long enough to witness the Saw series coming to a close). Untraceable fundamentally functions as a 100-minute episode of a police-procedural television crime drama. In the vein of psychological thrillers such as Se7en and Silence of the Lambs, director Gregory Hoblit has created a visceral thriller warning the use of technology against the populace.

Special Agent Jennifer Marsh (Lane) works at the Portland, Oregon FBI Cybercrimes Division. Along with her partner Griffin (Hanks), she generally spends her working hours shutting down music pirates and paedophiles. Jennifer is soon faced with a new and infinitely more deadly adversary when she comes across a website called KillWithMe. The tech-savvy lunatic running the site offers a live video feed to horrific acts of torture. After whetting the pervosphere's appetite with a live kitten sacrifice, the webmaster moves onto human victims. The live on-air murders accelerate with each click of a visitor's mouse. The serial killer behind the site is intelligent, and has worked out a technique to ensure the website is totally untraceable as well as impervious to attempts at removing it. The rumour of its existence catches fire, and in no time it's one of the hottest Internet stopovers. Jennifer quickly becomes obsessed with apprehending this impossibly clever internet predator, in the process finding herself ensnared in the killer's deadly game.

Untraceable is an enjoyable slick thriller: it's smart, merciless and tightly told without excessive exposition that lulls. In the 21st century the film's plot has great relevance and potency: a killer filming his victims die in elaborate ways while allowing the event to be viewed live on the internet. The more hits the site receives, the quicker and more violent a victim dies. "You know, if no-one was watching now, you'd just be sitting in water," the killer informs a victim who's neck-deep in water while a sulphuric acid drips into the tank (one drop for every internet hit the site receives). "But the whole world wants to watch you die, and they don't even know you." As the hit-counter goes berserk, the water becomes battery acid; his flesh rapidly corrodes and he dies as people watch from their computers, courtesy of live video streaming. What does this say about human nature these days? It's simple - the net has accelerated and magnified the morbid impulse to gawk at train wrecks. Over the years, the net has made us more uncivil and more inhuman.

At the core of Untraceable lies a moral question: if a person is being tortured online and you knew the URL where the streaming video can be found, would you visit the site? Furthermore, would your decision be influenced if you knew the person's death is hastened based on the volume of the site's traffic? These days snuff sites do exist. And, reportedly, in some communities they're quite popular. It doesn't take much expertise to uncover an online video of someone being genuinely executed. Seek and you shall find. Taking this one step further, what is it with mankind's fascination with the horrible? A majority of the population watches the news everyday (or listens to it) to learn about the latest local murders or tragic accidents. As we drive past an accident site, we slow down and observe the scene. Has mankind truly become sadistic voyeurs?

For the first half of Untraceable, the veneer of intelligence it exhibits is truly amazing. During said first half, this tense thriller is compelling in the way that a thriller like Se7en is compelling. Director Hoblit took pride in the realistic portrayal of an FBI pursuit of online criminals. Unfortunately, there are far too many unbelievable elements and obnoxious clichés in the film that the authenticity of the investigation process scarcely matters. Furthermore, it seems the more obvious methods of police work are jettisoned. After the first two victims are identified, the investigators never seem too fazed about establishing a possible connection between the two. As it is, if the (what would've been utterly obvious) connection was established the police would have had their criminal in the bag within the first hour of the film's runtime. But no - the five credited screenwriters exploit a formulaic structure and clichés to no end. Not a single cliché stone remains unturned in the film's rush to a jaw-droppingly stupid conclusion.

Most clichéd are the characters. Jennifer is a widowed woman and a neglectful mother with family problems. Colin Hanks' computer geek works with almost impossible efficiency. And towards the film's climax, a character reveals over the phone he's found something vital. Instead of relaying this vital information over the phone (not even in brief summary), this character explains he'll reveal it later on when he's face-to-face with the voice at the other end of the phone. We know he's not going to live very much longer. Poor guy never stood a chance.

Untraceable ends up containing stupid filler material as if the screenwriters were on autopilot during the writing process. Instead of this filler material, the writers should've been establishing more build-up. By this I mean the website automatically goes from the killing of a kitten to the killing of live humans. It jumps straight into the nitty gritty, and as a result the nitty gritty feels unearned. The killer should have whet appetites more extensively; perhaps starting with something small, like a rat, before moving up to larger house-hold pets. Another irritating aspect is the killer's impossible ability to capture prey without any trouble at all. And in the space of a few days he can somehow conceive an elaborate torture method for a victim. In these few days he's also capable of purchasing the proper equipment (it would cost a fortune...how does he pay for it all?) and rigging it up without the neighbours hearing any noise. The reasoning behind the killer's murder spree is also inadequate. It's nothing mind-blowing - in fact there's nothing to make you gasp or leave you speechless. It plays out as if nothing substantial is being revealed.

The rote thriller elements also make an appearance: red herrings, poking around dingy basements, and the good old reliable killer-coming-at-what-the-heroine-loves gambit. Another thing that irritated me is that without much promotion, the site is able to reach millions of hits within a matter of seconds. I don't think so...

To its credit, the film manages to avoid relying on gore to "build suspense". Hostel, for example, was simply gory murders with no substance. Untraceable is able to hold audiences in suspense with the intriguing premise. In fact, if you ignore the preposterous conclusion and endless clichés, this isn't a bad film. But in the last 20 minutes the film descends into a dark abyss of nothingness. It becomes a laundry list of clichés minus any originality or cleverness. It concludes with a whimper. The heroine, as if in a stupid horror film, continues doing things so asinine it's laughable. It doesn't provoke anymore chills...instead it provokes derisive chortles. It's as if the filmmakers who made the first two acts were replaced by Uwe Boll collaborators for the final act. It's frustrating that such a promising premise died without a trace.

The always dependable Diane Lane is competent in the title role. As she moves through the script's laboured contrivances, the good news is that Lane is easily watchable. She appears to have more emotional range than, say, Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs. The fact still remains that Lane is forced to endure a pretty disappointing script. Maybe she was initially seduced by the great first half of the script, or maybe she needed a paycheck. She occasionally lends a touch of class to an otherwise tacky thriller; striving to keep the script afloat during the last half with little success.
The supporting cast is effective, although moderately tiny. Colin Hanks has inherited a portion of his father's amiability and Billy Burke has the perfect square jaw for his part as the extraneous cop/pseudo-love interest.

Untraceable feels half-baked. However it's a competent suspenser that conveys a fairly potent moral statement about human nature in the digital age ruled by the internet. It's adeptly handled - an attractive colour scheme, a likable cast, fairly credible police procedures and some intense moments - but in the end it's ultimately undermined as it follows the modern thriller playbook to the letter. Into the last half it's cliché for exhausted cliché. This had the potential to be this decade's Se7en, but it's a missed opportunity.

"If that's water in that tank, pretty soon he's going to be sitting in battery acid."

6.1/10

"Spirits surround us on every side... they have driven me from hearth and home, from wife and child."

Prior to F.W. Murau's Nosferatu there was Robert Weine's silent horror masterpiece Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari (translated to the more common title; The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). In the annals of the horror genre, these two instances of German Expressionistic cinema stand above all others as pivotal filmic creations. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is amid the few archetypal horror films accountable for influencing fundamental elements of horror. These aforementioned elements include: a mad scientist, a "monster" slave to its master (think Frankenstein...even though the novel was published a century beforehand), and the pangs of guilt triggered by beauty or kindness.

This is a strikingly different piece of cinematic history due to its sheer artistry and eerie atmosphere. Visually, the film is unmistakably Expressionistic: weird, contorted angles, dark shadows, as well as bizarre, surrealistic sets and just about anything else that could assault the normal perception. Cinematic Expressionism (often referred to as "Caligarism") fundamentally involves images speaking for themselves more than any text or speech. This film abides by said law. To design the stylised décor of the movie, director Weine hired Hermann Warm, Walter Rohrig and Walter Reimann. These men turned to the paintings of Edvard Munch and the Expressionist stage designs of revolutionary impresario Max Reinhardt to find inspiration for the cramped, crooked town of Holstenwall. It's a fairly dated film, but the sheer audacity of the film's physical and psychological conceit will haunt you forever.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a film that boasts numerous firsts - the first horror film, the first psychological thriller, and the first German Expressionist film. This is a true classic of international cinema, and one of the most avant-garde horror films of its generation. The horror may be superficially insipid and tame, and the acting is unsurprisingly relatively hammy, but the eerie and unsettling atmosphere in addition to the eccentric imagery generates a lingering feeling of haunting unease - and that's what horror films should do.

This chilling tale is of a fairground barker who misuses his hypnotic powers to compel a mournful cipher into doing his evil bidding. Beginning with a harmless day of fun, Francis and his good friend Alan (Von Twardowski) attend a fair that recently rolled into town. The fair's main attraction is the enigmatic Dr. Caligari (Krauss) who's exhibiting a Somnambulist named Cesare (Veidt). Cesare has been in an uninterrupted sleep for twenty-three years, and he knows the secrets of the past and the future. A curious Alan inquires when he will die...and Cesare reveals he'll be dead by dawn tomorrow. The small town is held under a grip of fear when the prediction proves true and Alan is murdered. However, this is not the first in recent days. Caligari and his Somnambulist soon become the prime suspects in a series of killings. Francis vows not to sleep until he catches the killer.

"You fools, this man is plotting our doom! We die at dawn! He is Caligari!"

For a time during pre-production, Fritz Lang was originally assigned to direct. He claims he worked extensively on the screenplay, although this has never been proven. Given the brilliance of Lang's work (he went on to make masterpieces such as M and Metropolis) it would be fairly interesting to see what he'd have done with the film. If anything, the film could've used stronger direction. Robert Weine's direction is competent, but occasionally lacking solidity. Weine never made a masterpiece like this again, though he tried.

The final screenplay was written by Czech poet Hans Janowitz and Austrian artist Carl Mayer. A copy of the original shooting script disproves Janowitz's contention that the film's remarkable visual appearance had been devised by the writers. The design of Holstenwall was conceived by a separate creative team (whose names were mentioned before). On a more pragmatic level, an electricity shortage meant it was more efficient to paint in the lighting effects as opposed to using precious power. This subtle touch generates a heightened sense of menace.
Krauss and Veidt (who played Caligari and Cesare, respectively) were both Reinhardt alumni and were capable of fashioning their own grotesque make-up and exaggerated gestures.

German Expressionism can be perceived as inspiration for the depiction of supernatural images due to the techniques in relation to lights, shadows, out-of-focus images, and image juxtaposition. In spite of the surrealism depicted in Expressionistic movies, they always told a story related to common matters of human society. For example: the outsider (as shown in Murnau's Nosferatu) as well as prejudice and ignorance (Metropolis). The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari conveys a theme in relation to corruption that can easily affect humans, compelling them to act foolishly.

Robert Weine's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari has always been considered a keystone of the horror genre. This is mainly a moody film, with its tone set by grotesque art direction. The deliberately ambiguous twist ending will come as a substantial jolt for a viewer. Rather than providing visceral shocks (ala Hostel, Saw, etc), Weine's masterwork plays games with the mind. It's interesting that while Germans created films with artistic merits, Americans were cranking out brilliant slapstick comedies (like the works of Charlie Chaplin) or morality tales. Thanks to the subversive nature of their films, the Germans ushered in a new era of filmmaking. Whether or not the film works depends entirely on your tolerance for silent cinema. If you have an interest in cinema in general, or if you're a horror fan keen to visit the roots of the genre, I recommend you check this one out. Robert Weine literally wrote the book of screen horror in 1920, and filmmakers have poured over it ever since.

"I must know everything. I must penetrate the heart of his secret! I must become Caligari!"

8.2/10

John Farley: "You have a father?"
Mr. Woodcock: "Of course I have a father, Farley, I'm not Jesus."

If you verbalise the title of Mr. Woodcock out loud, does it make you giggle? You see, applying the word "cock" to the title is ostensibly intended to be a humorous entrée to the juvenile, immature main course of laughs to follow. If you don't find the title at all funny (I mean it uses the words wood and cock...isn't it just so original and hysterical?), then it's recommended you give this one a miss. If the title makes you laugh uncontrollably, clearly you have the underdeveloped sense of humour and mental capacity that will therefore allow you to enjoy the trite humour within.

Mr. Woodcock had irrefutable potential. Billy Bob Thornton is an Oscar-winning, first-class character actor who has shown his talents as a comedian and as a serious performer. Highlights of his career include A Simple Plan, Sling Blade, Monster's Ball, Bandits and the excellent dark comedy Bad Santa. Even though Billy Bob handles everything thrown his way with equal aplomb, Mr. Woodcock is one irascible comic character too many and perhaps the actor's biggest misstep of nearly twenty years in front of the camera.

At face value, Mr. Woodcock should be perfect for Thornton. A merciless and hard-assed P.E. teacher with a sizeable sexual appetite? It's hard to imagine any actor but Billy Bob taking this role. Even without seeing the film one can easily imagine Billy Bob Thornton bombarding young children in the head with basketballs or clobbering little boys in the groin with a bat. For the first few minutes of the movie, Mr. Woodcock works. Thornton's sense of comedy is impeccable and his sadism is hysterical. But after a while the single-note movie fails to establish any degree of true depth outside mushiness and clichés. In the space of a few minutes, all potential is irreparably shattered.

The story tracks self-help guru John Farley (Scott) whose latest book has sparked a cult following worldwide. Due to this unexpected success, John's hometown offers him the prestigious honour of the "Corncob Key to the City". Delighted with the notion of receiving such an award, John is more than happy to return home and visit his widowed mother (Sarandon). Alas, upon arrival, John discovers his mother is dating his jackass former P.E. teacher - Mr. Jasper Woodcock (Thornton). Adding insult to injury, Woodcock's harsh and inhumane methods don't faze anyone else...and he's about to be rewarded with the title of "Educator of the Year". John remembers the physical and mental anguish he suffered in high school thanks to Woodcock. After all, Woodcock is a man who delights in torturing students and anyone else who strays within his sphere of influence. He physically beats up his students, he psychologically demeans them as well (calling them names and humiliating them in front of others) and he generally behaves like a total jerk to everyone around him. John doesn't want his mother mixed up with such a man, and sets out to reveal what a jerk Woodcock truly is.

There was a very prolonged and troubled production process for Mr. Woodcock. After initial test screenings were quite negative due to its darker tone, a new director was hired and re-shoots were undertaken. Despite this long process in an attempt to salvage a quality product, the film still fails. With Billy Bob Thornton's prior experience with these types of characters, the screenwriters (first-time screenwriters...by golly it's obvious!) and the director have seemingly left everything up to Billy Bob. As a consequence, the poor actor is left to flounder while cameras capture him doing so. At times, Mr. Woodcock is hilarious. The first few minutes of dark humour (during which Billy Bob physically and emotionally attacks students) provide insight into what the film could've been. It seems these initial few minutes of superior dark humour might've permeated the rest of the film before re-shooting commenced.

Mr. Woodcock fails for two specific reasons. The first (and most significant) flaw is the screenplay courtesy of Michael Carnes and Josh Gilbert. It's the basis for an entertaining film, but a script tidy-up is sorely required. The film is typically an American mainstream studio comedy: clichés breed furiously and predictability abounds. It's a cliché-ridden mess! Seann William Scott's character, John Farley, should have remained the self-helping, uplifting character all the way through. Instead he turns into a total mean-spirited jerk who's impossible to care about. Mr. Woodcock is an awful character. It's stupid, nonsensical, unbelievable and almost offensive that his methods of teaching go unnoticed. The harsh nature of his teaching is illegal. It's not possible for someone to bully students like that while going unnoticed. Every student in his classes would've complained about their treatment to their parents, causing the parents to contact the school and have Woodcock sacked. From experience, I've had bad teachers who got the sack after treating students badly. Compared to Woodcock, these teachers are saints. And it's impossible to think people in the local community just accept such a jerk as Woodcock. He's openly horrible to everyone he meets! He even tells John "I don't do sorry. Sorry is for criminals and screw-ups, and I'm neither one". Uh huh...

The lovely and gracious Susan Sarandon is given a terrible character to work with. What could possibly prompt her to love Woodcock? What do the whole town see in Woodcock? Everyone in the film is an idiot - from the main characters to the supporting players, to John Farley's old friends and the little cretins in a burger joint. The script offers two cruel characters vying for the honour of being the biggest asshole in town. All the dramatic mush should have been axed. Billy Bob Thornton's golden moments as a gym teacher should've been further exploited. If his character hasn't been given the sack for his awful teaching methods, there should at least be additional moments of utter hilarity showcasing Woodcock abusing students in amusing ways. The right actors have been placed in the right roles, but the writing lets them down.

The other substantial problem with the film is the diluted content for the acquisition of a PG-13 rating from the MPAA for heightened ticket sales. If Billy Bob Thornton is playing a mean-spirited, bitter old gym teacher (almost a facsimile of his character from School for Scoundrels) then a few f-bombs and other obscenities must be used. Billy Bob is simply a poet when it comes to profanity. Bad Santa, for example, wouldn't be as brilliant if it weren't for the foul language and explicit content. If that form of dark humour pervaded Mr. Woodcock we'd have a Bad Santa clone...but at least it'd be a fun and enjoyable clone as opposed to this depressing nightmare. There are sub-plots of a heavy sexual nature, and adhering to a family-friendly rating further handicaps the film. In a PG-13 guise, Mr Woodcock is far too tame to be interesting given the nature of the central character. For its short runtime, the film is too bland and meek to be enjoyable. It isn't memorable, and you won't want to watch it again. You'll forget you even saw the film merely hours after watching it.

Seann William Scott basically plays an adult version of Steve Stifler; reprising his American Pie chore of complaining about his mother having sex with someone. Billy Bob appears to sleepwalk...well, sleepact throughout the film. Susan Sarandon is mediocre at best. There's also Ethan Suplee who appears to be putting in an effort, and Amy Poehler who tries but is underused as the film's voice of reason.

Mr. Woodcock had considerable potential, but at the end of the day it's a cheap by-the-numbers Hollywood comedy that lacks bite. The actors try their hardest, but are let down by the mundane screenplay. There's no excuse for anyone to waste their time on this fluffy piece of crap. Not the cast + crew who poured so much effort into it, nor the studio who misused money to fund this, or the audiences forced to endure this irritating experience. It's only more depressing to think of all the endless delays, re-shoots and different directors who tried to do something with it. It's occasionally enjoyable and it passes the time, but it could've been so much more. 40% of the film is watchable (sometimes worthy of a chuckle), but the other 60% makes it too hard to recommend.

3.8/10

"Just close your eyes, but keep your mind wide open."

In an era dominated by children's fantasy movies containing special effects that overwhelm instead of enhance, Bridge to Terabithia is a unique movie that celebrates the virtues of imagination, friendship and family. The marketing campaign for Bridge to Terabithia appeared to suggest the film would be just another juvenile fantasy film ala Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter. Not that the trailers implied something particularly bad - as a fantasy flick for the children you could do worse - but there was a distinct impression that we'd seen it all before. Given that I absolutely abhor the Harry Potter series and was lukewarm towards the first Narnia movie, the concept of Bridge to Terabithia wasn't exactly agreeable. Only those familiar with Katherine Paterson's 1977 novel of the same name knew these initial impressions were false.

As it turns out, Bridge to Terabithia doesn't deliver fantasy yarn with mythological creatures and magic. As an alternative the film offers a story of youths struggling to cope with unforgiving realities by absconding into the realm of imagination. It's infused a lot of heart, and it touches on serious issues. While being marred by numerous script banalities and occasionally preposterous clichés, it could've been far worse.

Jesse Aarons (Hutcherson) resides in a semi-rural community with his poor family. He's the only boy in a family of girls, and the children at school frequently bully him. Suffering from the merciless torment of bullying at school and an irritating family, Jess retreats into the world of his drawings to find solace. During his summer break Jess trains to be the fastest runner at his school. Upon the commencement of school he loses a "boys only" race to a new girl named Leslie (Robb). Despite their awkward introduction, the two begin bonding and realise they have much in common. Leslie opens a new world of imagination for Jess. Together they conceive the secret magical kingdom of Terabithia in the woods behind their homes. This imaginary kingdom (in which Leslie and Jess dub themselves king and queen) functions as a haven to escape the troubles of their mundane school lives. As life begins to look up for the two kindred spirits, reality intrudes.

Authors like C.S. Lewis and J.K. Rowling may write their novels about youngsters, but they also intend for their work to reach an adult audience. Katherine Paterson wrote Bridge to Terabithia aimed at children mainly as a coping mechanism for her son David (who wrote the first draft of the screenplay for this filmic adaptation in addition to acting as a producer). Keep this in mind, and Bridge to Terabithia works on its own terms for the first three quarters. It offers valuable lessons about the power of friendship and handling problems without resorting to violence. It also teaches lessons about growing up, about coming of age, the significance of family and the need for dreams. It's a kiddie flick more reliant on realism as opposed to pure fantasy.

But the film faithfully follows the novel, meaning it ends with a tragedy. Said tragedy is a shocking and powerful reminder of life's unfortunate ironies. Nevertheless, both the book and novel spend their first three quarters establishing a sweet story told in a delightful juvenile tone. The ending seems like a cheap, manipulative gimmick designed primarily to wrench a quick, emotional response from its audience and avoid the clichés. The film could have been fun for the whole family, but it touches on countless issues aimed more at adults. Financial trouble at home, not living up to one's father's expectations, and so on. Children won't even want to think about this...they'll want special effects and mythical creatures of which there is precious little.

Adult issues aside, Bridge to Terabithia may work for children. For aging teenagers and adults, however, the overuse of clichés is painfully obvious. All characters are stereotyped, leading to a series of predictable and childish events. Jess is constantly bullied at school. Yet he seems like a normal, handsome young kid of regular intelligence and athleticism. Why is there any reason for him to be bullied? It doesn't make sense for the school kids on the bus to ridicule Jess as being a farm boy when the bus is picking them all up from the countryside. Everything at Jesse's school is also preposterously clichéd. The school is shown as a pristine place of higher learning, full of horrible little cretins that appear to bully for the sake of bullying. The English teacher (Wolfe) is a tyrant. The music teacher (Deschanel) is attractive and fun, doing nothing but allowing the kids to join in joyful songs without much learning happening. The school bus driver is a freakish idiot. The school yard isn't even supervised! It isn't possible for bullies to charge admission to students trying to use the toilet without the school personnel realising or being informed. Pranks are played by the main characters, which frankly seems to defeat the message the film tries to convey so frequently. 50% of the film's middle section is based around these absurd conventions. It also continues to bog with repetitive conversations and sub-plots leading no-where that fill up space (such as the animal in the greenhouse and Jesse's crush on his music teacher).

Beautiful New Zealand locations are utilised for the film to gestate within. Director Gabor Csupo is perhaps largely recognised for his Rugrats empire. He handles the material competently. The atmosphere is particularly masterful. There's wonderful music courtesy of composer Aaron Zigman. The film is also extraordinarily shot by Michael Chapman who has twice been nominated for an Oscar (he worked on Raging Bull, for example). Peter Jackson's WETA Digital was responsible for the effects. The special effects wizardry is quite incredible to behold.

In terms of visuals, the film is very appealing. However, the mythical creatures too often mix into the real world too unbelievably. The results are baffling and disjointed. Case in point: how can an imaginary flying creature pick up Leslie? Another example: as Jess falls from the top of a tree, he's saved by a troll who catches him before he hits the ground. Erm...how can something in your imagination stop you from hitting the ground and succumbing to injury? Yes, they are just playing and imagining, but the line between reality and imaginary is too blurred and ambiguous. In addition, actually showing us what the kids are imagining detracts from the imagination of the novel. It'd be fine if the creatures made no contact with the kids, but how are we supposed to believe the intimate interaction? The film sits on the uncomfortable line between all-out fantasy and all-out drama. This mishmash of the two is fairly original, but the management of the material is incredibly poor.

Josh Hutcherson and AnnaSophia Robb both turn in fabulous performances. As the film descends into tediousness and cheesiness, both Hutcherson and Robb manage to keep the film afloat. Robb is particularly stunning. After her irritating performance in Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory one would never expect her to exude such charm and credibility. It's a pleasure to watch this young actress. Robb seems poised to become one of Hollywood's next great child stars. Knowing how to portray Leslie's shrewdness and exclusivity as inadvertent, incidental, or even unwitting, Robb is perfect as the kind of girl who can always beat the boys at sport...and they would still love her for it.
The underused supporting cast are also excellent. Robert Patrick is a particular stand-out. He's a realistic father figure and a focused performer. Also being featured is the beautiful Zooey Deschanel as the fun music teacher. Her character is stereotyped, but she handles her role with great skill. Young Bailee Madison also provides an admirable performance.

Overall, I enjoyed Bridge to Terabithia: aesthetically pleasing imagery, fine performances and only a slight dependence on computer effects. It doesn't rely on primitive humour (i.e. fart gags) to entertain, nor does it turn into an all-out fantasy spectacle. It's a simple story illustrating that the best escape from a less-than-ideal reality is through imagination and dreams. In broad strokes, the film recalls elements of Heavenly Creatures, Pan's Labyrinth and My Girl whilst being distinctively different at the same time. There are severe script troubles, but the first three quarters of the movie are destined to please the entire family. The final quarter is disappointing; nevertheless it'll at least please enthusiasts of the book who are seeking faithfulness to the source material.

"We rule Terabithia, and nothing crushes us!"

5.9/10

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!

Japan's premier animator Hayao Miyazaki is often described as the "Japanese Walt Disney". Over the years, Miyazaki and Isao Takahata's Studio Ghibli has been responsible for countless animated masterpieces. From the earlier Grave of the Fireflies to the more recent Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke, Studio Ghibli has persistently bestowed audiences with endearing animated features unlike any other. Japanese anime is a genre unto itself. Not being fond of anime can be equated with not being fond of American films. Anime has become far too stereotyped after inane products such as Pokemon and the abysmal Dragon Ball Z. There's such an extensive multiplicity of styles that it's impossible to abhor anime as a whole.

Hayao Miyazaki's My Neighbor Totoro (also known by its original foreign title of Tonari no Totoro) is a delightful film, conveying a wonderful story of childhood innocence, fantasy, and spending time with nature. Miyazaki has the ability to keep any viewer of any age entranced in the potentially mundane happenings. The beauty of My Neighbor Totoro is in its willingness to eschew the clichés. American animation is generally dumbed down, spelling out every plot point with extensive explication in the form of banal dialogue. The sharing of information in this film is limited to realistic dialogue between well-built characters as opposed to blatant trite.

The film also transports the audience to a place where there is no evil. Like the majority of Miyazaki's pictures, My Neighbor Totoro never relies on antagonists for the central characters to defeat. Rather than focusing on conflict, this is a story about a wonderful, magical, fantastical episode in the lives of two young children. This sweet, charming and adorable tale is narratively simplistic, but it's a refreshing movie to revisit all these decades later.

Two sisters named Satsuki (voiced by Noriko Hidaka in the original Japanese version and Dakota Fanning in the 2005 Disney dub) and Mei (voiced by Chika Sakamoto in the Japanese version and Elle Fanning in Disney's 2005 version) are moving with their father to the countryside to be near their ailing mother. Almost immediately the girls are delighted with the house and are intrigued by the strange creatures inhabiting the mystical surrounding forests. They meet a large, furry creature (big, cuddly, fluffy and cute - i.e. a living embodiment of any plush toy a child would love) known as Totoro (apparently Mei's mispronunciation for the Japanese word for "troll") with whom they share several magical adventures.
Throughout the film there's a charming assortment of different creatures. From the cute, smaller critter (which has become the Studio Ghibli logo) to the larger, koala-like creature to maniacally-grinning Cheshire Cat-bus.

My Neighbor Totoro is an enthralling, beautiful film crafted by one of the best animation directors of all time. Those familiar with Hayao Miyazaki's other features will be aware of his ability to construct terrific narratives that warm the heart and feed the mind...My Neighbor Totoro is no different. The art and animation found within the film can be described as relatively simple. There are stunning images of glorious vistas to behold, yet the detail is admirably (and effectively) kept to a relative minimum. The lack of realistic niceties enhances the film's atmosphere as simple but meticulous lines are blended with ornate colours to provide an overall visual warmth that establishes the mood perfectly for the story. The music is particularly amazing. There are glorious, atmospheric pieces of music played throughout the film. Much like Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro might be read as a metaphor for Japan itself; keen to reconnect with nature and spirit after war and urban life has made society ill. However the congregation of characters aren't allegories: the children behave exactly as regular children do, with that screwed-face mock courage that becomes panic when confronted with a surprise.

Miyazaki never adheres to the clichés we'd witness in an American animated feature. There is no condescension, especially not from the parents who seem supportive of their daughters' joy in the magic only children can see. Satsuki and Mei are encouraged by their dad to show respect for the great camphor tree and the spirits it holds. American animation is uniformly watchable, but it's generally quite formulaic. Miyazaki creates a new set of rules for this film as evident in the parents who never diminish the children finding enjoyment in the critters. If this was an American feature the parents wouldn't believe in the magical entities, leading to a series of gags where Totoro and his wacky sidekicks would land Satsuki in trouble before turning invisible.

The character of Totoro is also an unconventional creation. He merely growls a few simple syllables instead of talking. Had this been American, Totoro would speak with the wisecracking voice of Ray Romano or Eddie Murphy. The cat-bus (that simply purrs throughout the film) would be voiced by John Goodman.

My Neighbor Totoro also never gets bogged down in sentimental claptrapping. The little boy who's visibly interested in Satsuki acts nobly towards her, but is never given a chance to be preposterously heroic. There is no clichéd love story either. Had this been an American animation film he'd have a bigger part and he'd probably save Satsuki and Mei from an evil forest monster voiced by James Woods or Jeremy Irons. Best of all, the fantastical creatures are never proved to be imaginative or real. The viewer is left to decide. And, unlike Disney features, My Neighbor Totoro was never tainted with a string of direct-to-DVD sequels. Had sequels been devised, the first would likely follow Totoro moving to the big city and join the NBA. In the next sequel we'd visit Satsuki as an adult happily married who begins seeing glimpses of Totoro and his critter pals again. At the end of every sequel, everyone would learn a valuable lesson about the meaning of family.

Following its international release, My Neighbor Totoro received its inevitable English dub. But fear is unwarranted...the English dubs are extremely well-produced. Two English dubs are available, both of which are faithful: the story was not altered, and the translation is reportedly very close to the original. For the 2005 Disney version (I didn't have access to the other dub), Dakota and Elle Fanning provide the voices of the two young girls. They both give their characters satisfying exuberance and adequate charm. Tim Daly, Lea Salonga and Pat Carroll also join the voice cast.

There's no denying that My Neighbor Totoro is a cute, sweet fairytale that'll be enjoyed by adults and children alike. However it does take a fairly simplistic approach towards its central ideas, and it feels a tad lightweight when compared to later features such as Spirited Away. This is a remarkable film that never feels the need to explain every detail or dumb down its message. The film made such an impact that Miyazaki chose an image of a cute little critter from the film as the logo for Studio Ghibli.
My Neighbor Totoro is perhaps Miyazaki's most personal film as it reflects his childhood. The film is utterly brilliant, and it's imbued with various cute moments capable of making an audience howl with laughter. Highly recommended!

Trivia fact: Upon theatrical debut the film was shown in a double-feature with the slightly superior Grave of the Fireflies as the distributor apparently thought it unmarketable.

8.8/10

"Our world as we know it is much simpler... to put to an end than you might think."

Body of Lies is director Ridley Scott's contribution to the multitude of movies concerning America's War on Terror. The film was released in the shadow of similar films such as The Kingdom, Stop-Loss and In the Valley of Elah. Ridley's movie is an intricate little beast composed for a very specific type of movie-goer - the thinking movie-goer. With the release date just subsequent to the 2008 summer season (highlights included The Dark Knight, Iron Man and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) the film practically tiptoed into cinemas with the stealth of the CIA operatives at the centre of this crackling thriller.

Body of Lies is a visceral, gritty, gripping adaptation of the 2007 novel by Washington Post foreign-affairs columnist David Ignatius. Screenwriter William Monahan (who earned an Oscar for Martin Scorsese's The Departed) has constructed an incisive, albeit dramatically uninvolving examination of the War on Terror as conducted on the ground and back in the US in offices, homes, suburban playgrounds and HQs - mostly via cell phones. Monahan's script expresses the stimulating and profound perception that cynicism and hope can subsist alongside one another, and merge into a singular expression of both from time to time. It's this complexity and sophistication that distances Body of Lies from the swarm of other films concerning America's War on Terror. Case in point: Peter Berg's The Kingdom was a mere action film and essentially propaganda. Body of Lies never feels the need to promote America - instead the self-absorbed personalities behind desks back home lie constantly while the poor men in the field face the consequences. Americans are shown as dishonest, deceptive and vulnerable, which is frankly a breath of fresh air. Scriptwriter Monahan refuses to paint any side of the ongoing conflict as good or bad. Americans lie. Jordanians lie. Muslims kill helpless civilians. It's this quality which allows Body of Lies to rise above the stereotypes of preachy left-wing Hollywood. But at the end of the day it usually fails to engage. As a result we're left with Leonardo DiCaprio running around the Middle East for two hours as Russell Crowe lies in his ear.

"Nobody's innocent in this shit."

Roger Ferris (DiCaprio) supervises intelligence in the Far East for the CIA: he's a sophisticated operative negotiating hot zones in the Middle East while no-one close to him makes it out alive. He trusts his life to a dispassionate voice on the other end of a secure phone line. Said voice is that of Ed Hoffman (Crowe). Ed rages war from a laptop in his living room in the suburbs in Washington, dictating Ferris' orders. When a new extremist group begins bombing cities, Ferris is relocated to Jordan. To lure this new terrorist leader out into the open, Ferris penetrates the world of underground financing and frantic martyrs, in addition to forming a shaky alliance with the head of Jordanian Special Ops. The quest takes Ferris across Iraq, Jordan, Washington and Dubai. But the closer he gets to the target, the more he finds himself trapped in a hall of mirrors where allies are only as good as their last deception, and trust becomes the most dangerous tactic of all. Ferris becomes embroiled in a cat-and mouse-game during which the objective is information and the currency is personal integrity.

As well as being an intense drama, Body of Lies also serves as a globe-trotting espionage thriller. At its core, it's the plot of a James Bond film transplanted into the Middle East (without the frequent action). For the most part, Body of Lies works as its tense and competently handled. But the movie is overly talkative without managing to deliver an innovative message. There's more action in a standard episode of 24 than in this two-hour dialogue-driven drama. The dialogue is terse and stilted, with the promising plot too convoluted and uninteresting. This is a listen-up-or-you'll-miss-something, join-the-dots production that won't generate overwhelming ticket sales. Dramatically, the script falls flat into the final third. It follows the conventions of a tradition action movie; however it even fails to satisfy on a pure entertainment level. There's a love interest included for the sake of a love interest. She serves no purpose other than to provide momentum for the finale. It successfully managed to eschew clichés and predictability for a majority of its running time before subsequently succumbing to them late into the game. It's a drastically disappointing shift.

"You Americans are incapable of secrets because of your democracy."

Movies regarding the war in Iraq have been a difficult sell for the most part. Body of Lies appears more attractive due to its substantial star power. Ridley Scott at the helm, Russell Crowe and Leo DiCaprio (fresh from his acclaimed performances in Blood Diamond and The Departed which earned him several prestigious award nominations) being featured as the primary acting talent? Suddenly things are more interesting. Even better: William Monahan penned the script.
Ridley Scott is one of the select A-list directors capable of infusing a blockbuster with a certain level of artistry and depth. He makes every single shot count. Somehow, though, all the ingredients don't coalesce into anything overly brilliant. To be frank, it's a bit of a snoozer. It fails to engage or rivet a viewer on a significant level. On occasion, for instance the enthralling helicopter chase, the film boasts moments of sheer brilliance. However there just isn't an adequate quantity of these moments. 2006's Blood Diamond is of the standard Body of Lies should've reached. Edward Zwick's Blood Diamond contained great dialogue, searing action and a coherent story that flowed satisfyingly. Body of Lies is too boring too frequently. Ridley Scott's direction is competent and meticulous for sure, but the dialogue underwhelms and the film concludes with a muted whimper. At the end of the day, 60% of the story seems utterly pointless.

Russell Crowe reportedly gained 63 pounds for his role. Honestly, one has to wonder why. It seems like the most useless body transformation in history.
There's a lethal problem in the interaction between Crowe and DiCaprio - it's usually via phone. Nevertheless, Crowe is amusing as he embraces his inner cad and barks orders to DiCaprio's Roger Ferris while driving kids to soccer practise. Crowe's performance is fairly subdued, but he's acceptable and credible. DiCaprio is sufficiently charming and intense. But the role never gives him anything challenging, and ultimately he never seems like someone capable of seamlessly blending into the Arab culture. Mark Strong is the particular stand-out of the cast.

Overall, Body of Lies is a mediocre picture that, despite fantastic visuals, lacks dramatic momentum. There's an unfortunate failure to keep an audience involved in the sprawling, overlong, confusing saga. Be that as it may, there are numerous strong points such as Ridley Scott's artistic direction, nail-biting suspense and incredible action. At times it's truly dazzling. Other times it's too dull and boring for words.

"Ain't nobody likes the Middle East, buddy. There's nothing here to like."

6.8/10