Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"In my line of work things tend to happen when it gets dark."

Disclaimer: This review will not spoil Insidious: Chapter 2, but it's recommended that you do not read ahead unless you've seen the first Insidious, as the surprising ending of the first film leads directly into Chapter 2 and will be discussed.

It's doubtful that 2011's Insidious was designed with a franchise in mind, but the micro-budgeted horror picture was a rousing success, grossing almost $100 million from a $1.5 million budget, and receiving surprising critical acclaim. Because it's easy to get filthy rich from such investments, we now have Insidious: Chapter 2, a direct sequel to its predecessor which brings back practically all of the original cast and crew. Whereas the first movie was fundamentally a take on the Poltergeist storyline, Chapter 2 is closer to The Shining. With a change in focus, this sequel feels like less of a continuation of the original Insidious and more like a follow-up to the original movie's last act. Luckily, director James Wan and writer Leigh Whannell have assembled an overall solid film in Chapter 2, even if it's not perfect. It is a tad overwritten, but the film definitely delivers where it counts.

With paranormal medium Elise (Lin Shaye) dead after being strangled by the malevolent spirit that inhabits the body of Josh Lambert (Patrick Wilson), the police begin an investigation, discounting all claims that something supernatural is involved. To allow for things to calm down, the family move in with Josh's mother Lorraine (Barbara Hershey), who's hospitable towards Josh, his wife Renai (Rose Byrne), and kids Dalton (Ty Simpkins) and Foster (Andrew Astor). However, Renai is wary of the situation, curious about sudden changes in her husband, and terrified by supernatural occurrences around the house. Lorraine recruits paranormal investigators Specs (Leigh Whannell) and Tucker (Angus Sampson), who team up with Elise's old friend Carl (Steve Coulter) to get to the bottom of the situation. Meanwhile, the real soul of Josh is stuck in the spiritual realm of The Further.

Insidious was a fairly simple picture, with screenwriter Leigh Whannell putting a fresh spin on the haunted house genre, purposely avoiding the most hoary clichés to create something distinctive. It paid off, but Whannell and Wan only scratched the surface of the movie's mythology, leaving a lot of baggage for a sequel to deal with. Unfortunately, Chapter 2 attempts to do too much, working to build an extensive backstory behind the old woman in the first flick, and spending more time in The Further. The material is admittedly interesting, but it only occasionally translates to a chilling viewing experience, often neglecting the type of primal thrills that worked so well in the original film. It's not a deal-killing decision, but the end result pales in comparison to its predecessor, with expository dialogue rendering the storytelling oddly leaden. Fortunately, however, the proceedings eventually click into gear and Wan settles into a satisfying groove, leading to plenty of momentum as well as a finale that raises the pulse, silly moments notwithstanding.

The original film's sense of pervasive dread was lightened by a somewhat campy final third which turned the experience into a fun old-fashioned fright flick, but Chapter 2 shows minimal interest in this type of material, only providing a smattering of gallows humour courtesy of Tucker and Specs. It's amazing how much Wan is able to do with so little. Even though Chapter 2's budget has marginally increased since the original flick, it was produced for a scant $5 million, minuscule by Hollywood standards. There is no denying that Wan is a master of building a sense of unease, and his talents are visible throughout the movie. Even despite the uneven pacing, this is a highly atmospheric movie, and it's easy to fall under Wan's spell. It's the director's use of careful camera angles, shadows, eerie images and above all the perfectly spine-chilling sound design which gives Insidious: Chapter 2 a great deal of power. Achieving true cinematic terror in 2013's cynical movie-going climate is nigh on impossible, yet Wan continues to demonstrate his ability to do so, and seemingly with little effort.

Patrick Wilson was given an ostensibly impossible task, asked to play the role of a demon within a human body. It would be easy to overplay the character, but Wilson strikes the perfect balance, being subtle in his body language that's just a little bit off, and being suitably scary when he needs to be. Furthermore, Wilson had to play Josh as well, and admirably pulls that off too, although we don't see much of the real Josh during the movie. Byrne, meanwhile, is expectedly strong, but it's Barbara Hershey who fundamentally becomes the heroine of the movie, with her role of Josh's mother having been beefed up considerably. Fortunately, Hershey does a fine job, and she's served well by the other returning players. Whannell and Sampson are delightful, and Lin Shaye returns here in a handful of scenes to nice effect.

Wan scored another mega-hit earlier in 2013, with The Conjuring attracting the type of acclaim, hype and box office dollars that most horror movies can only dream of accomplishing. It's a shame that Insidious: Chapter 2 is a noticeable step down in quality, but it's still more creative than the glossy, PG-13 spook films that less skilful filmmakers inundate us with. When it works, it's an intriguing continuation of the strong first movie, and it leaves room wide open for a Chapter 3 to follow. And honestly, another sequel would be enticing, as Insidious is more of a traditional horror series rather than found footage (Paranormal Activity, which shares Insidious producer Oren Peli) or torture porn (Saw, which was ironically spearheaded by Wan). Plus, Insidious: Chapter 2 is far better than either of the Poltergeist sequels.

6.8/10

"I'm taking you to your dad's so he can take care of you."

2013's Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa is very much a Jackass movie, but it's not the type of film that long-time fans might be anticipating. It's a fresh direction for the ageing brand name, replacing the haphazard structure of the previous movies with a scripted story, though there are still plenty of mischievous shenanigans and pranks involving (supposedly) unsuspecting members of the general public. It takes its structural cues from Borat in this sense, though Bad Grandpa plays as an actual movie rather than a mockumentary. Opinions will no doubt be divided on the film; some will be outright repulsed, while other folks might be let down by the lack of genuine Jackass-style stunts. But it's difficult to imagine a better movie being carved out of this premise - for what it is, Bad Grandpa is a home run, representing one of 2013's comedic high points. It's silly and rude, yet also hilarious, maintaining an agreeable pace as it goes about its goofy business.

When 86-year-old Irving Zisman (Johnny Knoxville) loses his wife after decades of marriage, he's overjoyed, looking forward to the prospect of hitting on as many women as possible. However, the funeral attracts Irving's drug-addicted daughter (Georgina Cates), who informs the old man that she's going to prison and he must take care of his grandson Billy (Jackson Nicoll). Afraid that the kid might ruin his newfound sexual liberation, Irving desperately searches for somewhere to offload Billy, asking the boy's estranged deadbeat father, Chuck (Greg Harris), to accept parental responsibilities. Chuck agrees, but only because it will mean he'll receive a $600 government payment per month, and Irving must travel across the country to deliver the boy. Hitting the road with Billy in the passenger seat and his dead wife in the trunk, Irving gets himself mixed up in all sorts of shenanigans, all the while developing somewhat of an unexpected bond with his grandson.

Suffice it to say, the story is completely flimsy and has been done to death, but the movie doesn't require an intricate narrative. People watch Bad Grandpa for the jokes and the mischief, and the thin set-up thankfully succeeds well enough to give the skits some purpose (as opposed to the completely plotless disposition of the other Jackass flicks). With that said, however, veteran director Jeff Tremaine and his crew do deserve credit for actually paying attention to the plot, threading together an intelligible narrative and never breaking the illusion that this is a movie. Indeed, the movie never "winks" at us, and nobody ever acknowledges the cameras.

Naturally, Bad Grandpa can be hit-and-miss, but misses are rare, and when the flick hits...it really hits. Tremaine is careful to include the types of moments that the Jackass fanbase demand, leading to a few disgusting scenes and a handful of dangerous stunts. But many of the laughs are generated by seeing the candid reactions of the victims, who seem to be oblivious to the fact that Knoxville is actually fucking with them beneath a heavy layer of make-up (the make-up artists deserve a lot of credit for their convincing efforts). Since candid camera antics rely on hidden lenses, there is a noticeable difference in image quality at times, with many shots looking grainy and unfocused while others look positively immaculate. Miraculously, a lot of the funnier moments were kept out of the promotional materials, even though the trailer does, unfortunately, spoil the movie's climactic set-piece. This can't be held against the picture, of course, as the studio handled all the marketing, but it is disappointing that the experience might not be as satisfying to those who know what to expect when Irving and Billy crash a beauty pageant.

The heart of Bad Grandpa is the relationship between Irving and Billy, with Knoxville and Nicoll sharing great chemistry and playing off each other beautifully. Nicoll is game for anything, saying and doing the most inappropriate things while relishing the chance to be so mischievous. They're a really fun pair to watch, and there are scenes between the shenanigans that are somewhat heartfelt. None of the dramatic stuff is overly profound, but it's convincing enough in the context of this movie, with Knoxville delivering his most credible acting performance to date (though that's not saying much).

To be sure, Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa is a kinder, gentler Jackass, but it remains crude and R-rated nevertheless, and it's just as fun as the Jackass creations which came before it. It's often extremely funny, delivering a number of belly-laughs and maintaining a playful spirit, making it a solid movie to watch with friends and pizza on a lazy evening. Whether or not any of the candid camera moments are staged remains up to the viewer, but it doesn't diminish the experience. Capping the movie off is an extended end-credits montage containing the usual outtakes and behind-the-scenes craziness while also showing how pranks were pulled off and revealing the reactions of the victims after being informed that they're in a movie. Bad Grandpa is dedicated to Ryan Dunn, one of the Jackass performers who died in 2011.

8.2/10

"The truth has no temperature."

A number of Cormac McCarthy's novels have been adapted as motion pictures in the past decade or so, most notably by the Coen Brothers for 2007's Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men. But 2013's The Counselor finds McCarthy as a screenwriter, producing his first original work written directly for the big screen. Suffice it to say, the resulting film is full of the author's idiosyncrasies; The Counselor is a dark story inhabited by unpleasant, duplicitous characters. It was appropriate material for director Ridley Scott to sink his teeth into, giving vivid life to the unsettling situations dreamed up by McCarthy. It's a fairly solid effort with moments of greatness, but it's somewhat dead around the eyes, in need of a spark to generate a truly riveting viewing experience.

A lawyer who's fallen on hard financial times, the Counselor (Michael Fassbender) seeks to join a drug deal alongside Reiner (Javier Bardem) and Westray (Brad Pitt). However, the deal goes south when the shipment is hijacked by unknown armed enforcers, and suspicion falls on the Counselor. Concerned for both himself and his loving fiancée Laura (Penelope Cruz), the Counselor becomes overwhelmed with panic, hoping to negotiate a deal with the men who are trying to kill him.

The story of The Counselor is dense and intricate, eventually devolving into a convoluted mess of half-explanations, vague motives and double-crosses. It's simply hard to discern who's doing what – the Counselor's actual role in the drug deal remains vague, for instance. Consequently, it feels as if fragments of the narrative are missing (especially at the beginning of the story), and it doesn't help that some character actions stick out as odd. For example, the Counselor uses a stranger's phone to call his fiancée in fear of his mobile being traced. But later, he uses a known associate's phone to set up a meeting with Laura, which seems careless since he knows that people are watching him and might be listening to the call. Nevertheless, McCarthy's screenplay benefits from some real positives, most notably in the borderline poetic dialogue. The conversations between characters sizzle with intelligence, and there's more sophistication on hand here than in usual blockbusters. There are a number of scenes that stand out, especially a strange vignette in which Reiner casually describes an incident involving Malkina (Cameron Diaz) literally having sex with his car.

Scott brings to the project his usual proclivity for solid visuals and deliberate pacing. This is a handsome picture that excels in terms of composition and all-round production values, and Scott doesn't baulk from staging viciously violent sequences from time to time. Indeed, there is gunplay and decapitations, accentuating the ruthlessness of this story. Furthermore, the acting is solid from top to bottom, amplifying the production's sense of professionalism. Fassbender plays it straight, making for a stable lead as the titular Counselor. There are times when Fassbender truly soars, too, including an unforgettable scene towards the film's end when he breaks down in a hugely realistic fashion. He shares terrific chemistry with Cruz, too, whose believability is a huge asset. More colourful is Bardem, with his spiky hair and spray tan, while Pitt seems to be enjoying himself as a cowboy type. Less successful is Diaz, who simply fails to make much of an impact. Angelina Jolie was initially cast in Diaz's role, which would've been more on target. The rest of the actors more or less receive single-scene cameos, including Rosie Perez, Bruno Ganz, John Leguizamo and Dean Norris.

Unfortunately, The Counselor seems stuck in first gear for most of its runtime, packing very little in the way of thrills or suspense. It looks visually interesting as it unfolds on the screen, but it only occasionally comes to life. And when the climax approaches and deaths mount, the movie still stays pretty sedate, becoming more elusive to emotional grasp. Ironically, the story would've probably been better served in novel form, as it's underwhelming as a motion picture, with its clinical, aloof nature making it difficult to become genuinely invested in. Perhaps McCarthy always needs someone else to adapt his works for the screen. The movie is dedicated to Ridley's sibling director Tony, who committed suicide in the middle of shooting.

5.6/10

"I've come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass... and I'm all out of bubblegum."

Although director John Carpenter masterminded a number of cinematic gems during the 1980s, They Live is arguably his coolest and most enjoyable effort from the decade. Written by Carpenter himself, it's a delightful sci-fi action romp, bolstered by an astute screenplay that mixes social commentary, exciting action and terrific one-liners, approaching RoboCop levels of greatness. And despite being made in 1988, They Live has aged remarkably well, remaining every bit as sharp and entertaining as it has always been. They Live has to be one of the most underrated and overlooked pictures in Carpenter's filmography, too, which is a shame because it's absolutely worthy of a large audience.

At the centre of the story is a nameless, unemployed drifter referred to as "Nada" (Roddy Piper) - the Spanish word for "nothing." Arriving in Los Angeles, Nada is soon hired at a construction site and takes shelter at a local shantytown with the company of co-worker Frank (Keith David). Nada begins noticing strange activities at a church across the street, and his interest piques all the more after it's raided by a SWAT team. He soon happens upon a box of strange sunglasses inside the church, which essentially allow the wearer to see "the truth." Putting on a pair, Nada realises that the world around him is populated with extraterrestrials who have assimilated themselves into human society, transmitting secret messages through signs and billboards. Taking up a firearm, Nada sets out to fight back against the invaders, enlisting the assistance of Frank in his quest.

As with most of Carpenter's filmmaking oeuvre, They Live is packaged with societal commentary and political satire, endowing the production with more class than a typical shoot-'em-up. To be sure, the satire is not exactly subtle, with the sunglasses revealing that billboards and magazines actually say simple words like "Obey," but it's effectual nevertheless, and it has only grown more pertinent with each passing year. In this sense, They Live is perhaps the ultimate conspiracy theory movie. Even though it's fiction (at least we hope this stuff isn't real), there is a sense of truth to the proceedings, playing out as a warning sign to those who blindly follow the lead, unwilling to be open-minded enough to accept that the world around us may not be as cut-and-dried as we're led to believe by the powers above us. They Live is nuanced in this sense, but it's not heavy-handed - the movie still plays as a fun actioner, rather than a dour exploration of big ideas. And while the satire plays out in the context of a simplistic action movie, the core ideas linger and the film is open-ended, making it a rousing example of entertaining, thought-provoking cinema.

They Live again demonstrates that Carpenter knows his way around a set-piece. The action is slow to start, but once Nada discovers the glasses, They Live almost never relents, delivering in a big way. Perhaps the highlight of the entire production is an achingly funny alley fight between Piper and David, which is exceedingly brutal and beset with some of the best, funniest tough guy dialogue in the history of cinema. The sequence was meant to be short, but Piper and David went for broke, and Carpenter allowed the behemoths to do their thing. It's great stuff. They Live also comes alive in several other scenes, with awesome gun battles spotlighting Piper in ass-kicking mode. Admittedly, the film does seem to end a bit too quickly, with budget constraints visible during the rather slight climax, but this is nit-picking. What matters is that They Live plays beautifully and is scarcely boring, thanks to Carpenter's skilful pacing.

For a WWE wrestler, Piper is not that bad of an actor, playing his role of Nada with assurance and flair. He understands the art of one-liners, spouting several witty zingers that had this reviewer in fits of laughter. He's a hell of a lot better than the wrestler-turned-actors of more recent years. Piper also shares wonderful chemistry with Keith David, who's every bit as good as his co-star. David is a charismatic presence, and he's really on top of his game here, proving to be another reason why They Live is so damn enjoyable.

They Live deserves more credit than it receives. It's not Carpenter's best movie, but it's definitely one of his definitive masterworks, an excellent demonstration of his trademark idiosyncrasies and quirks as a filmmaker. Plus, the focused direction, clever writing and top-flight acting allow They Live to date gracefully - in 2023, it has lost practically none of its charm or impact. In fact, it probably plays better today than it ever did, as the thematic undercurrents continue to become more relevant, and the movie possesses a special brand of goofy '80s charm that today's blockbusters just cannot replicate. Better, it finishes on a high note - the final scene closes the door with a huge laugh, reminding us that Carpenter has always had a good sense of humour.

8.1/10

"Your trip to the sun overexposed your cells to solar radiation more than even your body can metabolize."

The tenth instalment in Warner Premiere's series of DC Universe Animated Original Movies, All-Star Superman is based on the twelve-issue comic book series of the same name by Frank Quitely and Grant Morrison. The comics were fundamentally a discontinuity reboot of Superman, telling a new story arc that doesn't explicitly link with anything that came before it. For this animated adaptation, writer Dwayne McDuffie had the difficult task of creating a relatively brief 75-minute feature distilled from over 320 pages of comic content. As a consequence, All-Star Superman does feel episodic and underdone, facing the same issues that undermine several other movies from the animated DC canon. Nevertheless, the picture does come together in an effective enough way, thanks to the competent animation and voice work, and the emotional power of this remarkable story which brilliantly humanises the Man of Steel.

When the first manned mission to the sun goes awry, Superman (James Denton) arrives to save the ship and crew but becomes exposed to a lethal dose of solar radiation. Unbeknownst to the Man of Steel, it was all part of a plan concocted by Lex Luthor (Anthony LaPaglia), and now Superman is left with only a few months to live. Keeping the crisis a secret, Superman seeks to put his affairs in order, revealing his true identity to Lois Lane (Christina Hendricks) and preparing his final will and testament, all the while continuing to protect the world from threats old and new.

The story of All-Star Superman is surprisingly powerful, as the borderline invincible Man of Steel is forced to confront his own mortality and consider his life and legacy. Although the movie is full of colourful action scenes, there are some effective thematic undercurrents here, focusing on ideas such as forgiveness, empathy and love. However, the big problem with All-Star Superman is its episodic structure. Since the screenplay is based on a twelve-issue miniseries, such a structure was practically inevitable, but it feels like too many side plots and detours are crammed in, and as a result barely any of them amount to much in the end. McDuffie's script should've focused on the main story threads involving Lois and Lex, as these are easily the most interesting constituents of the movie. Other random detours - including two guys trying to woo Lois, and a pair of Kryptonian survivors who disappear as abruptly as they appear - simply feel unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. And with its 75-minute runtime not permitting any of the additional story threads to take flight, it feels like The Flash edited the picture.

Fortunately, the visual treatment of the material is for the most part solid, making for another very entertaining animated superhero extravaganza. Being a budget production, All-Star Superman does not feature the most lavish animation, but it looks fine nevertheless, with bright, fluid visuals that imitate the look and feel of the comics. Director Sam Liu is somewhat of an animation veteran, having also helmed the likes of Planet Hulk and Superman/Batman: Public Enemies. Composer Christopher Drake has also become the go-to guy for DC Universe Animated Original Movies, and his efforts here remain outstanding, providing a sweeping score that bestows All-Star Superman with a sense of grandeur, belying its straight-to-video origins. This is a well-made movie in spite of its flaws.

Carrying on tradition, All-Star Superman features a strong voice cast packed with talent. Desperate Housewives actor James Denton makes for a fairly charismatic Superman, though he's not the best Man of Steel we've seen. Without a doubt, the star of the show is Anthony LaPaglia, who's a gruff and arrogant Lex Luthor. He brilliantly embodies the evil genius, and it's hard to imagine anyone else doing a better job.

Of all his motion picture appearances, Superman has never been as vulnerable, human or heroic as he is in the final act of All-Star Superman. It's downright affecting at times, something which can't be said for many of the other DC Universe Animated Original movies. Nevertheless, the finished product remains a tad underwhelming. It was too ambitious to attempt to cover so much ground in a single 75-minute movie - the source material would be better suited for a miniseries.

6.8/10

"Listen up, we have been boarded by armed pirates. If they find you, remember, you know this ship, they don't. Stick together and we'll be alright. Good luck."

Director Paul Greengrass' first motion picture in a number of years, 2013's Captain Phillips finds the seasoned filmmaker back in familiar territory, utilising his intense documentary-style approach to tell the true story of the first pirate takeover of an American vessel since the 19th Century. It's a riveting, incredibly intense picture, but it also feels like Greengrass is playing it too safe; it's closer to Green Zone than United 93, eschewing the sophistication and emotional impact of the latter film in favour of the more simplistic storytelling of the former. Nevertheless, it's easy to be impressed with Captain Phillips, with its superb technical presentation and strong acting right down the line. Nails will be chewed, and armrests will be clenched, which is more than what can be said for a lot of movies coming out of Hollywood these days.

Taking command of the freighter ship the Maersk Alabama, Captain Richard Phillips (Tom Hanks) is tasked with transporting cargo through the Gulf of Aden in Somalia. It's dangerous waters for the crew, as piracy runs rampant, prompting Phillips to keep his men alert by staging consistent drills. Unfortunately, Phillips is soon faced with real danger when four armed Somali pirates, led by Muse (Barkhad Abdi), successfully board the vessel, seeking to hold the crew hostage in exchange for millions of dollars in ransom money. While Phillips' crew remain in lockdown in the engine room, the captain is captured at gunpoint, careful to cooperate with his kidnappers to minimise casualties. Events begin to turn against the pirates, though, forcing them into the ship's lifeboat. But they choose to take Phillips with them in a last-ditch attempt for fortune.

Adapted from Phillips' own memoirs, Billy Ray's script unfortunately omits a vital component of the real-life story. See, Phillips was specifically advised to remain at least 600 miles off the Somali coast but purposely ignored this order, navigating through dangerous pirate territory nevertheless. Phillips is thus at fault for what happened, a fact that has been emphasised by Phillips' crew, who launched lawsuits and have publically stated this his recklessness put their lives in danger. By excluding this aspect, Greengrass' film paints Phillips as an all-round hero, neglecting what had the potential to be a fascinating moral undercurrent. Sure, the film should be judged as an adaptation rather than a documentary, but it nevertheless feels overly vanilla and safe, and a layer of absorbing complexity would've been added if Phillips was forced to confront the fact that he has to shoulder some of the blame.

Fortunately, Captain Phillips ultimately gets more right than wrong. Before the pirate takeover of the vessel, Greengrass offers efficient scenes of character development, depicting Phillips as just a regular guy who kisses his wife (Catherine Keener) goodbye before leaving for what's expected to be another simple job. Greengrass also shows the other side of the coin, contrasting this against the hostile lifestyle in Somalia, where Muse carefully chooses a crew of pirates. Miraculously, there's a sense of realism to all of this, as Greengrass refuses to add any Hollywood sensationalism to the proceedings. The actual pirate takeover is one of the most enthralling sequences of the year due to its sheer intensity; it's more terrifying than most horror movies from the past few years. Hanks sheds his movie star sensibilities to play Phillips, placing forth his most believable work in years. It's possible to get lost in the illusion, which is a massive credit to Hanks. You feel his anxiety and fear, and towards the end, you genuinely believe that he's in shock. He's getting older, but Hanks is still one of the most reliable thespians in the industry.

The immediacy of Greengrass' filmmaking ensures that nothing in Captain Phillips feels staged or fake. The ship was not reconstructed in a Hollywood studio - filming took place on the Alabama's sister ship, hence everything from the bridge to the mess hall looks authentic. Greengrass keeps the picture grounded throughout, infusing it with maturity and class, justifying all of the Oscar chatter. The movie eventually leaves the Alabama's decks, taking to the seas inside a tiny lifeboat. There's an immense sense of claustrophobia during these scenes, and you feel the sweltering, aggressive atmosphere as Muse and his dispirited men keep Phillips hostage while the U.S. Navy considers its options. Barry Ackroyd's cinematography is exceptional throughout, though Greengrass struggles to maintain an agreeable pace once the action shifts to the lifeboat. The second half is too overlong, with the experience eventually becoming gruelling and repetitive. At least ten or fifteen minutes could've been cut to tighten the pacing, but Greengrass thankfully redeems himself for a marvellous climax. Captain Phillips does not deliver the gut-wrenching emotional sucker-punch of United 93, but the finale is nevertheless very powerful. In fact, the final five minutes are borderline unforgettable, with harrowing images of Phillips' kidnapping ordeal being brought to an end.

It's perhaps best to watch Captain Phillips with minimal knowledge of the real-life occurrences, as you'll feel more tension. We know that Phillips will survive, but if you don't know how the situation was resolved, you will be chewing your fingernails to the bone, wondering what's about to happen next. And even if you do know all of the specifics of the event, Greengrass' film gives you the opportunity to experience what it would be like to be stuck in such a terrifying predicament. It's a true slice-of-life movie, and it's both absorbing and intense.

7.0/10

"Even if you leave this room, you can never leave this room."

Released in 2007, 1408 was the first theatrical Stephen King adaptation in a number of years, and it serves as a shrewd reminder as to why so many of the horror maestro's works have been adapted for the screen. 1408 actually started life as a short story as opposed to a fully-fledged novel (or novella), hence screenwriters Matt Greenberg, Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski were compelled to beef up the source material, altering and adding various things to produce a feature-length product. Luckily, the resultant movie captures the chilling spirit of King's work, making for a predominantly effective thriller that also stands as one of the stronger adaptations of a Stephen King story. If you like being spooked out without having your intelligence insulted, then 1408 is for you.

A non-fiction writer, Mike Enslin (John Cusack) has made a career for himself by writing about his experiences in supposedly haunted attractions. He has never seen a ghost or experienced a paranormal phenomena, and is therefore sceptical about every locale he visits. For his latest novel, Enslin decides to spend the night at New York City's Dolphin Hotel, in room 1408. According to the hotel's manager, Gerald Olin (Samuel L. Jackson), it's a cursed room that has been the site of countless deaths. Although Olin vehemently objects to Enslin's desire to stay in 1408, Enslin pushes ahead nevertheless, determined to stay overnight in the dreaded room. However, Enslin begins to change his tune when unexplained visions occur. Before long, Enslin is stuck in a nightmarish predicament, fighting for his life to avoid becoming another victim of the room's supernatural power.

Unfortunately, the concept for 1408 is not entirely suited for a 100-minute feature film. It's based on a short story, after all, hence a shorter movie would probably be more appropriate. It takes about half an hour to get to the feared hotel room, and once we're in, there's not a great deal for director Mikael Håfström to do, as he desperately fills the narrative with as much creepy imagery, suspense, and character dimension as possible. A bulk of it does work, but some of it doesn't, most notably a prolonged third-act detour that goes on for far too long and does not entirely work. Furthermore, it's clear that Håfström and the writers weren't sure how best to wrap up the movie, thus there are a handful of alternate endings. The director's cut ending is perhaps the most satisfying due to how dark it is, but none of the conclusions work particularly well, which is a shame considering how strong most of the lead-up is. It's not a deal-killer, of course, but it doesn't leave you with much of a lingering impression.

Nevertheless, 1408 is bolstered by some real positives. Håfström's direction is slick and effective, building an eerie claustrophobic atmosphere and displaying a proclivity for Hitchcock-inspired compositions. Håfström is a terrific visual stylist, and he has created some arresting images here. When the room reveals its true evil nature, the shocks are unsettling and inventive, even if the film does begin to wear out its welcome by the third act. 1408 is a PG-13 thriller, yet it doesn't feel gutted by the rating, with brief glimpses of disturbing images and plenty of honest-to-goodness tension. The experience is especially unnerving since Håfström never explains the exact nature of what Enslin is dealing with. Is Enslin being toyed with by the hotel staff? Is he in Hell? Could his sanity be eroding? Is Enslin projecting his inner turmoils on the room itself? None of these possibilities are debunked throughout the movie, and nothing is conclusive by the end. And even if 1408 is actually supernatural, we don't know what the cause is. Olin provides the best explanation: "It's an evil fucking room."

For the most part, 1408 is a one-man show, spotlighting Cusack alone in the hotel room struggling to deal with whatever horrors befall him. It's the actor's finest performance in years, calling upon a wide range of emotions, and transforming from aloof sceptic to a terrified man who's utterly out of his depth. Enslin is forced to confront demons from his past, and these scenes have an emotional impact thanks to Cusack, who lends them the right amount of weight. Cusack is simply terrific, and the picture would be doomed without him. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is barely seen; the only notable performer is Jackson, who brings his usual vitality and coolness to the role of the hotel manager.

Although uneven, 1408 is well worth watching, as it really soars from time to time. Not since In the Mouth of Madness have The Carpenters been so creepy, and never has Cusack been this deranged. 1408 is not about to set the world on fire, but it's so refreshing when compared to the usual dull standard for Hollywood horror movies, especially all the soulless PG-13 endeavours. Torture porn enthusiasts will find the movie lacking, but fans of creepy mysteries in the vein of The Twilight Zone will likely enjoy it.

7.0/10

"You certainly have the skills to pay the bills. If snails had to pay bills, that is."

Turbo might as well have been called Generic Animated Movie, as this effort from DreamWorks is one of the most aggressively predictable and formulaic in recent memory. With the protagonists of the story being a group of snails, this is a weird picture, but thankfully it's implemented with slick visuals and plenty of energy that's almost enough to distract you from its paint-by-numbers construction. Indeed, it goes without saying that the kids will likely adore it due to how light and colourful it is, but it won't prove to be a depressing experience for the older demographic, as it comes together in an entertaining enough fashion. It's not Pixar, but it is better than both of the Cars movies.

An ambitious garden snail, Theo (Ryan Reynolds) dutifully continues his daily work routine inside a tomato patch, with his older sibling Chet (Paul Giamatti) keeping his brother in line. Theo wants to do something bigger, though, dreaming that he'll one day race alongside his personal hero, Guy Gagne (Bill Hader). Leaving the comfort of the garden one night, Theo is sucked into the nitrous oxide reserve of a street racing car, bestowing the snail with lightning speed. After saving Chet from a crow attack, the pair are picked up by Tito (Michael Peña), who works at a struggling taco stand and collects snails. Theo urges Tito to sign him up for the Indianapolis 500, with fellow store owners helping him raise the entry money. Rechristening himself as Turbo, Theo heads to the races in the company of Chet and several other snails, including Whiplash (Samuel L. Jackson) and Burn (Maya Rudolph). Before long, all eyes are on Theo, and Guy begins to feel threatened by his tiny competition.

Credited to three writers, the screenplay introduces an interesting conceit not unlike something we would expect to see from a Pixar project, but the plot's broad strokes are completely by-the-book. Of course Theo wants to be the fastest snail in history and gets to prove the naysayers wrong with his newfound abilities; of course Theo's racing idol turns out to be a cartoon antagonist; of course there are colourful characters along the way. The narrative is eerily similar to Pixar's Ratatouille, but Turbo lacks the heart, thoughtfulness and depth of that remarkable endeavour. It even sources ideas from Toy Story (there's a kid who likes to squash snails, but the tables are eventually turned on him). Indeed, Turbo is a Frankenstein creation through-and-through. Admittedly, it may seem difficult to avoid all the clichés, but Pixar seems to circumvent a lot of the big ones with their more successful movies almost effortlessly. Furthermore, the central message of Turbo is a bit muddled. After all, nitrous oxide is illegal in professional racing, yet nobody seems to care that Theo is competing despite being full of the chemical...

Turbo is probably at its best during the opening act. Before we get to all the racing, director David Soren concentrates on the everyday workings of the snail community, who spend their days picking and sorting tomatoes. Crow abductions are a regular occurrence, too, and the snails literally cannot do anything about it, so they just quickly lament the loss of their comrade before moving on. The real saving grace of Turbo is its gee-whiz eye candy. Even by the perpetually-heightening standards of contemporary CGI animation, the visual experience here is breathtaking. Rendered in 3-D, there's plenty to enjoy here, and it's the splashes of colour and snappy pacing that keep the feature watchable from start to end. However, the climactic race does drag on for too long. There are suspenseful beats, but the conclusion is pretty predictable, making the long-winded disposition a little disappointing. Turbo could've easily lost five minutes of racing action to make for a better, tighter feature.

Surprisingly, Ryan Reynolds actually stretches his range to some extent in voicing Theo. He often plays smart-aleck characters, but Theo is a different breed, and he manages to give some heart and personality to the titular mollusc. But it's Paul Giamatti who stands out the most, placing forth a spirited vocal performance as Chet. His comedic timing and delivery are spot-on, making him the most memorable character in the picture. With that said, though, there are some colourful turns by a number of other actors, most notably Samuel L. Jackson who oozes cool as Whiplash. Peña is also good, giving Tito a nice degree of welcome humanity.

Turbo is riddled with flaws, but it's not a bad movie - just an easy and simple one, devoid of much in the way of suspense. There are obstacles for Theo throughout the story, to be sure, but we know that he'll pull through and race, and everything will be conventionally happy at the end. A more daring treatment of the premise would be welcome, but Turbo is amiable and pleasant enough.

5.9/10

"I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go, but what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye."

Life of Pi is an adaptation of Yann Martel's 2001 novel of the same name, which is often described as "unfilmable." Yet, director Ang Lee and writer David Magee attempted it nevertheless, and the resultant movie is ultimately a mixed bag. It's certainly easy to appreciate what Lee was trying to achieve here - after all, 3-D is frequently applied to big-budget action extravaganzas, but Life of Pi aims to be an awe-inspiring visual experience that relies on the beauty of nature as opposed to colourful action scenes. While it's an incredible picture to study, it's at times a gruelling sit, with the experience ultimately becoming repetitive and exhausting. More pertinently, though, Life of Pi is built around a thematic punch-line that's such fallacious nonsense that it undermines the production as a whole.

The narrative is predominantly told in flashbacks. Pi (Irfan Khan) is visited by a writer (Rafe Spall), with whom he recounts his intimate life story. As a young man, Pi (now played by Suraj Sharma) was raised in India by his zookeeper parents, who decide to move the family to Canada for a fresh start. While en route aboard a Japanese freighter, a powerful storm sinks the ship, and Pi is the sole survivor. Scrambling on a lifeboat, Pi's only companions are a zebra, an orangutan, a hyena, and a Bengal tiger affectionately named Richard Parker. Adrift in the middle of the ocean, nature begins to take its course, leaving just Pi and Richard Parker on the boat, with the frightened Pi attempting to manage his existence and survive the ordeal without being eaten by the ferocious (and hungry) tiger.

Life of Pi would be a breathtaking experience if only it remained focused on the events that befall Pi and Richard Parker while on the lifeboat. Unfortunately, this constituent of the story takes up a bit more than half of the film's two-hour running time. Lee makes a critical error in focusing too much on Pi telling his story, for which he over-explains everything, breaking the flow and ruining the sense of immersion. Pi is one of those people who has stories for all aspects of his life; there's a tale behind how he got his name, how Richard Parker got his name, and so on. It's too self-consciously quirky. It doesn't help that most every facet of Pi's character is quirky for the sake of it - he even "collects" religions, for crying out loud. Worse, there is a big message behind Life of Pi. See, early into the film, we're told that Pi's story will make us believe in God. And late into the film, this is finally addressed. You see, Pi eventually tells an alternate version of his survival story that's more plausible, more mundane, darker, and far more depressing. Of course people prefer to hear the story with the tiger because it's more uplifting. "And so it goes with God," Pi tells the writer. In other words, we're basically being told that you should believe in God because it's more fun to do so. It's pretentious and cringe-inducing to extremes, closing the door on a sour note. Religious nuts may find it wonderful, but the rest of us will see it as the preachy bullshit that it is.

For all of the nonsense bubbling underneath Life of Pi's surface, it's hard to deny that Lee and his crew have assembled one hell of a gorgeous motion picture endowed with striking imagery. The CGI is genuinely top-notch, and the movie was magnificently photographed by Claudio Miranda. The animals are predominantly digital, yet they are staggeringly realistic, to the point that it's very hard to tell where the live-action ends and the CGI begins. Various set-pieces - including the ship's sinking, Pi's encounters with whales, and the discovery of a strange carnivorous island - all make a tremendous impression and will stick in the mind long after viewing. Not many movies are worth the 3-D experience, but it's hard to imagine seeing Life of Pi in regular old 2-D. Lee and Miranda do not use 3-D as a money-inflating gimmick but rather as a legitimate moviemaking tool that reinforces the film's central themes of distance and separation. Moreover, it emphasises the sea's great expanse, making the experience all the more immersive.

Another positive attribute is the fact that Lee is never romantic about the tiger, nor does he imbue the beast with any anthropomorphism. It's established early into the movie that this is a wild beast, vicious and meat-eating, and it is a danger to Pi while he's trapped on the lifeboat with it. While Pi refuses to kill Richard Parker, the tiger would be more than willing to devour the boy without any consideration. A growing bond does emerge, but it does feel organic to the film, which is a huge accomplishment. The animation of the tiger is extraordinary, but young Suraj Sharma also deserves plaudits. This is Sharma's first film role, yet he delivers a terrific, complex performance, and it's all the more impressive considering that he was playing opposite a digital creation that was never on set with him.

Life of Pi is treacly, self-indulgent philosophical tripe, but it's gorgeous to look at, making this one of the most spectacular visual experiments since James Cameron's Avatar. A number of filmmakers have set out to adapt the Life of Pi novel in the past (including M. Night Shyamalan), hence Lee does deserve credit for rendering this "unfilmable" novel as skilfully as he did. It's definitely worth seeing, regardless of its undeniable shortcomings.

5.8/10

"Let him die. He's missing a hand anyway."

The concept behind Casa de mi Padre can be summed up very simply: Will Ferrell in a telenovela spoof - in Spanish! It's the type of pitch that one would expect for a short Saturday Night Live skit, which is unsurprising since Casa de mi Padre's writer and director have been involved in SNL for years. A Spanish-language parody of low-budget Mexican serials, this is an oddball comedy, but it's not nearly as insane or downright hilarious as it had the potential to be. Its restrained approach is commendable since it compels Ferrell to attempt a different brand of humour, but the finished movie is only marginally successful, with only a handful of laughs here and there. The premise would be better suited for a ten-minute sketch, as it feels too scattershot as an 85-minute feature.

Seen as a moron by those around him, Armando Alvarez (Ferrell) is the black sheep of his family, often being unfavourably compared to his successful drug-dealing brother Raul (Diego Luna). When Raul returns to the family ranch, he brings his new fiancée Sonia (Genesis Rodriguez), with whom Armando is immediately smitten. Further trouble soon arises in the form of The Onza (Gael García Bernal), a dangerous drug lord who enters a turf war with Raul. With death and destruction unfolding all around him, Armando is given the chance to prove he's not a screw-up and hopefully win the heart of Sonia as well.

The main joke of Casa de mi Padre, of course, is the fact that the white, completely non-Mexican Ferrell is playing a Mexican role, delivering his dialogue entirely in Spanish. But the humour does go deeper than that, with writer Andrew Steele serving up a steady stream of amusing moments that parody low-budget Mexican filmmaking. Casa de mi Padre is to Spanish melodrama what Black Dynamite is to '70s blaxploitation, with the characters delivering cornball dialogue in a hilariously sincere manner, and with the technical limitations of Mexican cinema being affectionately recreated by director Matt Piedmont. An establishing shot in town of a truck pulling into a parking space was done with phoney small-scale toy models, and the musical score abruptly comes and goes as if mixed by a clueless foreigner. Production values are daffy as well, with cheap sets and a white tiger that looks about as convincing as a teddy bear. A scene of Armando and Sonia riding horses is incredibly phoney, as the horses are clearly fake and they're in a studio against an obvious backdrop. Piedmont even throws in an opening title sequence that feels like something from a James Bond movie, supplemented with a catchy theme song performed by Christina Aguilera.

Unfortunately, it takes a while for Casa de mi Padre to hit its stride, as it's oddly sedate and flat before finally picking up steam into the second half. It's almost worth the wait, especially once the climax arrives involving a campy gun battle in which Armando harnesses his inner action hero. This role represents a considerable change of pace for Ferrell, abandoning his wildly overzealous man-child persona to play a more nuanced character in another language, compelling him to stick to the script rather than constantly improvising. Ferrell even sings at one stage, backed by a mariachi band, adding further flavour to the madness. Ferrell is actually one of the production's major assets, as he recognised the type of movie that this was and nails the requisite tone. Also good is stunning newcomer Genesis Rodriguez, who's skilled at comic timing and delivery, and has plenty of charm to boot.

Casa de mi Padre did not make me laugh as much as I wanted or expected it to, and it lacks a special spark to genuinely bring it to life, but it nevertheless remains a fun enough comedy that deserves plaudits for its amusing commitment to recreating goofy Mexican cinema. Although not a comedic masterpiece, it has its moments, and it's sure to become somewhat of a cult classic in future years even if it'll be appreciated more for its design than its actual delivery.

6.0/10