Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"I said something...that wasn't."

Making the transition from television to the big screen, 2009's The Invention of Lying denotes the directorial debut of Ricky Gervais, who co-wrote and co-directed with fellow feature film virgin Matthew Robinson. A smart, high-concept comedy, this is an attractively-mounted and thematically thoughtful fantasy; not perfect by any means, but a worthwhile demonstration of Gervais' talent for comedic timing and dry humour. Nevertheless, one can't help but feel a little bit let down given the strength of Gervais' TV work (The Office) and stand-up comedy. It seems odd that the British comedian has yet to create a genuine home run of a motion picture.

The Invention of Lying unfolds in a fantastical alternate universe where lying does not exist. In fact, the word "lying" is absent from the dictionary because nobody even knows the concept. People have evolved to tell the absolute truth - it is encoded into their minds. Mark Bellison (Gervais) is a hapless screenwriter who's fired from his job and is depressed because has no chance of wooing his dream girl, Anna (Jennifer Garner). At the end of his rope, Mark realises he can tell untruths, giving him a massive advantage and allowing him to topple his rivals and earn vast amounts of money. While comforting his dying mother (Fionnula Flanagan), Mark lies to put her mind at ease, devising the notion of an afterlife and a God. However, he paints himself into a corner by telling such a tall tale, as people overhear him and unquestioningly believe that he has all the answers. This attracts the attention of the general public and the global media.

Suffice it to say, for you to embrace The Invention of Lying, you need to accept this world and accept the fact that lies do not exist. Gervais even delivers voiceover narration at the beginning of the movie to tell us everything we need to know. If you can swallow the conceit, there is a lot of fun to be had. Gervais and Robinson take the concept and run with it, exploring all forms of lying that emphasise the importance of untruths. For instance, motion pictures do not feature actors since acting would be deception; rather, movies consist of people sitting around telling true stories in a dry, uninteresting fashion. Moreover, advertisements in this world are nothing but unremarkable fact-stating, reinforcing that companies lie about their products all the time. Various sight gags are a hoot, as well - including a nursing home called "A Sad Place For Hopeless Old People," and a low-rent motel with the sign "A Place For Intercourse With A Near Stranger" - and it's funny to hear characters speak their mind in a frank manner. The wit is often quite subtle, too, with odd speech patterns and deadpan facial nuances getting laughs.

More than anything else, Robinson and Gervais position The Invention of Lying as a total piss-take on the bible, positing that religion is simply the result of gullible people believing something far-fetched simply because they do not know any better. Gervais makes no bones about being he's an atheist, hence such content is very suitable for his directorial debut. The satire, though, is sometimes a bit too on the nose, layering on the religious ridiculing with the subtlety of a shotgun. Seeing Mark turn into a spitting image of Jesus is one step too far; the film needed a more delicate satiric touch, which is usually Gervais's specialty. Also not overly successful is the romance between Mark and Anna. From the beginning, Anna tells Mark that she's not attracted to him and is not interested in dating him because she wants her children to have good genetics. Anna is completely shallow and often cruel, making us wonder what Mark sees in her and why she means so much to him. While it does give Gervais and Robinson the chance to explore the central conceit further, the subplot feels shoehorned in at the demands of formula.

Following his performances in Ghost Town and Night at the Museum 2, Gervais is a terrific fit for the role of Mark. He has a certain everyman quality and vulnerability, and his comic timing is spot-on. Additionally, Gervais is a fine actor, as evidenced in the scene of Mark talking to his ailing mother on her deathbed, which is surprisingly poignant. Gervais is not an over-the-top performer, relying on naturalism to sell the character. Fortunately, he receives solid support from his co-stars; Garner does a decent job with her superficial character, while Jonah Hill scores a few laughs as Mark's suicidal neighbour, and Louis C.K. is spot-on as Mark's bar-dwelling friend. Tiny Fey also appears here, making the most of her small role and delivering several amusing one-liners. Rounding out the main players is the reliable Jeffrey Tambor as Mark's boss and a reasonably funny Rob Lowe as a rival screenwriter.

Although The Invention of Lying is a bit underwhelming on the whole, there's no denying that this is an original, well-conceived comedy from Robinson and Gervais. It's especially noteworthy because it underscores how much of our society is built on lies, half-truths and speculation, all of which are placed forth by religious groups, politicians, media outlets, and even our own parents. The Invention of Lying suggests that lying can be beneficial depending on the context, which is a refreshing message for a comedy. But while the film makes you think, it's also a bright, enjoyable rom-com, even if Gervais is probably capable of better.

6.6/10

"You got me moving enough weed to kill Willie Nelson!"

Fundamentally RV by way of Pineapple Express, 2013's We're the Millers is an audience-pleasing comedy played out with an R-rated sensibility, happy to indulge in lewd, vulgar absurdity without breaking any new ground in the genre. Fortunately, even though it's episodic and formulaic, We're the Millers is also very funny, with director Rawson Marshall Thurber (2004's Dodgeball) settling into an agreeable rhythm of one-liners and character antics which keep the flick entertaining more often than not. It's only occasionally laugh-out-loud hilarious, but not all comedic highlights were spoiled in the marketing materials, which is miraculous in today's cinematic climate.

A professional drug dealer and a world-class slacker, David Clark (Jason Sudeikis) gets robbed whilst trying to stop a mugging, resulting in him losing his entire supply of weed and money. Consequently, David finds himself in hot water with his boss, drug lord Brad Gurdlinger (Ed Helms), who offers him the chance to pay his debt and earn a lot of money. His assignment is to pick up a stash of marijuana in Mexico and smuggle it back into the United States. Fearing that a single guy travelling alone might look suspicious, he concocts a hopefully can't-miss plan: he hires stripper Rose (Jennifer Aniston), homeless runaway Casey (Emma Roberts), and awkward teen Kenny (Will Poulter) to play the role of his wholesome all-American family, thus keeping attention off the drug smuggling. As "The Millers" hit the road in an RV, they begin to bond and soon meet road-tripping couple Don (Nick Offerman) and Edie (Kathryn Hahn), who believe the faux family's story...and refuse to leave them alone.

The basic premise of We're the Millers is a strong one, incorporating a few well-worn conventions but otherwise bringing forth a fresh, original concept. However, the plot is not strong enough to sustain a feature-length motion picture, necessitating a handful of narrative tangents that cripple the pace. This would be fine if only the execution were more robust, but We're the Millers runs far too long at almost two hours, continually getting bogged down between the big comic payoffs. Most egregious is the emergence of a rival drug lord out to reclaim his stash; he barely makes an impression and only comes across as an afterthought, as if the writers were obligated by formula to include an antagonist. Moreover, the film almost goes off the rails when it starts to take David's relationship with his acting partners seriously, attempting to infuse the picture with tenderness but ultimately falling short. And the content involving Don and Edie is far too long-winded. None of this is enough to ruin the experience, but a brisker, leaner, perhaps darker movie might've been more satisfying.

The script was written by Bob Fisher and Steve Faber (Wedding Crashers), as well as Sean Anders and John Morris (Sex Drive). Thus, We're the Millers is very much an R-rated affair geared towards the folks who enjoy movies like Hot Tub Time Machine and The Hangover. Since comedy is subjective, it's difficult to predict anyone's reaction to the movie's humour, but if you like this brand of R-rated material, you should find We're the Millers to be hilarious. Many laughs are mined through savvy pop culture references and absurd sight gags, including the image of an orca chomping on a shark in Brad's personal aquarium, and a tarantula bite yielding a massively swollen testicle. Otherwise, the profane dialogue is often amusing, though there's not much wit to be seen here. Indeed, We're the Millers is more of a scattergun experience than a carefully executed showcase of comedy genius. Not that this is a drawback - just an observation. However, the picture loses its way when it turns serious; Thurber cannot entirely sell the transition from broad to heartfelt.

Saturday Night Live veteran Sudeikis is a charismatic presence as David, displaying a strong understanding of timing and delivery. But it's Jennifer Aniston who steals the show; she's absolutely on fire as Rose, exhibiting flawless comic intuition and making her character simultaneously irritable and sympathetic. Moreover, Aniston is still extremely attractive despite her age, and a scene of her performing an elaborate impromptu striptease is an inspired, sexy highlight. As the fictional kids, Roberts and Poulter are spot-on, blending right into the R-rated lunacy. (And Poulter has got to be the luckiest actor of his generation; he extensively makes out with both Roberts and Aniston in one scene. Fuck.) Further standouts in the cast include Hangover performer Ed Helms, while Parks and Recreation mainstay Nick Offerman is also fantastic here.

While there are problems on a script level, and a few pacing lulls prevent We're the Millers from becoming one of 2013's standout comedies, it does its job well enough. It's an often amusing variation on National Lampoon's Vacation, and the funny parts are very, very funny. You could do a lot worse if you're in the mood for a fun time-killer. And be sure to stick around for a blooper reel during the end credits. It closes the door with a smile and underscores how much of the dialogue was improvised despite four writers receiving credit for the screenplay.

6.5/10

"What you've done is taken God's oldest killing machine and given it will and desire. What you've done is knocked us all the way to the bottom of the goddamn food chain."

Flawed as it definitely is, 1999's Deep Blue Sea is a rare type of big-budget summer extravaganza that fulfils its promise of delivering fast-paced, entertaining action with genuine panache. Nothing about Deep Blue Sea is original or groundbreaking in any way, but the production was overseen by blockbuster extraordinaire Renny Harlin, whose previous pictures include Die Hard 2: Die Harder and Cliffhanger (let's forget about Cutthroat Island). As a result, it's unfailingly enjoyable, and it doesn't feel its lengthy 100-minute running time. If Deep Blue Sea was released in 2013, it would have been produced by the SyFy channel, with zero budget and no skill behind it. Luckily, it was made in 1999, when studios still put money into R-rated B-movies. And thank goodness for that, as the resulting picture is a blast of pure good-natured fun.

On a floating research facility in the middle of the ocean, marine biologist Dr. Susan McAlester (Saffron Burrows) is seeking to find a cure for Alzheimer's Disease by harvesting the brain matter of Mako sharks. In order to glean more protein from the fishes, the scientists genetically engineer them, which results in heightened intelligence. Susan's corporate funder Russell Franklin (Samuel L. Jackson) agrees to a weekend expedition to the lab to check on progress. With most of the staff having left for the weekend, only a skeleton crew remains, including Susan, shark wrangler Carter Blake (Thomas Jane), engineer Tom Scoggins (Michael Rapaport), scientist Jim Whitlock (Stellan Skarsgård), religious chef Preacher (LL Cool J), and lab assistant Janice Higgins (Jacqueline McKenzie). Unfortunately, a violent storm arises, and a series of circumstances results in the base being severely damaged and partially flooded. With a number of gigantic, intelligent Mako sharks craving the taste of their captors, the science crew are left to fend for their lives as they attempt to get to the surface and escape.

The big issue which faced screenwriters Duncan Kennedy, Donna Powers and Wayne Powers was how to structure a shark attack movie without recreating Steven Spielberg's Jaws. Fortunately, the writers admirably overcome this, using Mako sharks as opposed to Great Whites, and creating a new plot and setting, not to mention introducing scientifically-altered sharks with increased smarts that are capable of more than the average beasties. In fact, the writers instead borrow from another famous Spielberg movie: Jurassic Park. How creative. Deep Blue Sea is well-structured for a B-movie, with a fair amount of build-up before all hell breaks loose and we get into the action. Once the mayhem commences, it never relents, progressing from one shark set-piece to the next at a brisk pace. Unfortunately, Deep Blue Sea is less successful in terms of dialogue and characters. The roster of characters here have little dimension to them; they're established as plot pawns, and lack satisfying individual personalities. The chatter, meanwhile, is standard, one-note action film speak, lacking the spark of wit which bolstered Jurassic Park.

Deep Blue Sea deserves plaudits due to the lack of sentimentality that's displayed towards the characters. None of the players are safe here, leading to unexpected and shocking character deaths. Most notable is a memorable scene in which a character delivers a very cheesy, melodramatic speech imploring the rest of the characters to stop bickering and work together to survive. It's the standard action film speech, meant to denote a key turning point in the narrative, but, before the character can finish, a shark emerges and pulls him underwater to be ripped to shreds. It underlines that anyone can be killed off, no matter their star status or how important they ostensibly look to be. The actors are fine, doing what they can with the material. LL Cool J is the only one who really shines, as he has the best dialogue and the best character, not to mention he's the most charismatic. Jane, meanwhile, is solid as well, establishing himself as strong leading man material. Also of note is seasoned veteran Jackson placing forth a fairly colourful turn, while Rapaport, Burrows and McKenzie are likeable as well.

Deep Blue Sea is a B-movie at heart, but Harlin had an A-grade budget at his disposal. $60 million was no small chunk of change in 1999, and in this day and age it's unheard of for an R-rated action movie to be produced for such a lavish sum. Production values are competent here, and Harlin is a gifted action filmmaker, staging exhilarating set-pieces with confidence and skill. The R rating is a huge benefit, giving Harlin leeway to go nuts with graphic depictions of shark attacks. Water turns red when someone is taken, and the sharks rip characters apart in a gory fashion. It's glorious. Furthermore, it's hard to overstate the effectiveness of the animatronic sharks here. The twenty-four years separating Jaws and Deep Blue Sea yielded tremendous advancements in cinematic special effects, allowing for practical sharks that are flawless in movement and detail. At times, you could swear that Harlin and his team must have thrown real sharks into tanks with the actors. Funnily enough, to date no other shark film has equalled or surpassed the animatronics here, which is bewildering. However, the movie's digital sharks are not nearly as successful. A few moments here and there look somewhat convincing, but, for the most part, the CGI is obvious and slipshod. Jaws overcame its fake-looking shark by keeping it hidden for the most part, but Harlin is too concerned with in-your-face money shots.

To be sure, it's disappointing that Deep Blue Sea is not on the same level as Jurassic Park, which merged genuine awe and excitement with an engaging sense of humanity and intelligence. Deep Blue Sea is instead closer to the film's sequel, The Lost World, with Harlin more interested in big action scenes than substance. But, to the movie's credit, it's a big success, guiltlessly trashy and undeniably fun, even if it is thoroughly ludicrous. Deep Blue Sea is the very epitome of summer entertainment; stuffy critics relentlessly lambaste it, but it's executed with enough energy, excitement, charisma and skill to render it an enjoyable guilty pleasure that gives you plenty of bang for your buck.

7.3/10

"Splitting up is a bad idea, it is much safer if we stay together!"

The credits for The Croods may list Monty Python alum John Cleese as a co-writer, but do not let this formality fool you. Cleese was only involved in the production's early stages many years ago when Aardman Animation was slated to produce it. Eventually, however, DreamWorks picked up the project and rehauled it, stripping away any flavour and wit it might have once possessed. As a result, The Croods is a by-the-book animated family flick in the vein of the Ice Age sequels, hitting all expected story beats and never really doing enough to stand out. Although it begins with promise, it plummets into mediocrity and never recovers, with dull characters, flat pacing, rote scripting and a lack of compelling conflict keeping The Croods from reaching its full potential. It may entertain the kids to an extent, but that's just not good enough.

The leader of a caveman family, Grug (Nicolas Cage) is profoundly terrified of the outside world, maintaining his mantra of "never not be afraid" and perpetually shielding his loved ones in their cave, including teenage daughter Eep (Emma Stone), wife Ugga (Catherine Keener), son Thunk (Clark Duke), toddler Sandy (Randy Thom), and his mother-in-law (Cloris Leachman). As a result of Grug's vigilance, they are seemingly the last family of their kind not to be wiped out by natural selection. Eep feels trapped, though, and grows curious about what the rest of the world holds. Lured out of the cave at night by the glow of a fire, Eep meets Guy (Ryan Reynolds) and his pet sloth Belt (Chris Sanders), an adventurous pair who warn Eep that the land is collapsing due to volcanos and earthquakes. Smitten with Guy, Eep pushes her family to join him after their cave collapses, setting out to find safer ground and a new place to call home. Grug is dragged out of his comfort zone, forced to confront the perils of the world while trying to protect his family.

Fortunately, writer-directors Chris Sanders and Kirk De Micco eschew pop culture references and trashy pop songs, which is groundbreaking for a DreamWorks production. This aspect aside, though, The Croods is extraordinarily by-the-numbers, abiding by an overly clichéd three-act structure and deploying character arcs straight out of the Animation 101 handbook. Unoriginality alone is not necessarily bad, but Sanders and De Micco lack the imagination and wit to allow the movie to genuinely soar. Moreover, the story's central message is confused and muddled. The flick posits that living within rules and routines is not living at all and that taking risks will give you a full life. However, one can understand Grug's viewpoint, as dangerous beasts populate the planet. Plus, the film explains at the beginning that all their neighbours have died, and the family only survived because of Grug's diligence. Sanders and De Micco seem to vilify Grug for no good reason. And is it really the best thing for a children's animated movie to tell its audience that they should run wild and not listen to their parents?

Simply put, The Croods should be far funnier. Ice Age may get drearier with each passing instalment, but it has an ace in the hole in the form of Scrat, whose acorn-related antics make those flicks worth watching at least once. Alas, The Croods does not have a Scrat. And without it, there's not much comedic vigour or punch to the material. Instead, Sanders and De Micco go through the predictable motions without making the picture goofy enough for the little kids or intelligent or mature enough for the adults. There was plenty of potential for the writer-directors to deliver a daring climax in the vein of How to Train Your Dragon (which was hugely affecting and exhilarating in equal measure), but Sanders and De Micco instead opt for bland safeness. Still, despite this negativity, The Croods has its pleasures, mainly the luscious animation and a handful of compelling set pieces, not to mention the creature designs. The Croods is all surface, but at least it is an effective surface at times.

Even though the material is basic, The Croods is livened to an extent by the cast. Rising star Emma Stone is a good fit for Eep, while the iconic Cloris Leachman is expectedly entertaining as the family's mother-in-law. But it's Cage who runs away with the whole movie (trust Cage to steal the show in an animated production), turning Grug into a lovable presence and even conveying emotion when the script calls for it. Instead of merely reciting lines, Cage fully commits to the character. Meanwhile, Clark Duke and Catherine Keener are decent enough, though Ryan Reynolds is so utterly non-descript and flavourless that you may not even realise he is voicing Guy.

DreamWorks animated movies are distinctly hit-and-miss. Whereas Pixar almost always produces good movies as long as the word "Cars" is not in the title, DreamWorks has only made a handful of memorable winners. Alas, audiences will not remember The Croods as one of the studio's best titles. It's not too shabby on its own terms, but it looks below-par when placed against other recent animated movies, like Rango, ParaNorman, How to Train Your Dragon, Toy Story 3 and Tangled. It's not funny or emotional enough. Perhaps if John Cleese remained aboard throughout the entire production or the movie stayed with Aardman, The Croods would've been more meaningful and impressive. As it is, it feels pre-packaged and cookie-cutter.

5.9/10

"That's how they git you. They're under the goddamned ground!"

A devilishly enjoyable creature feature, Tremors has understandably endured as a cult classic over the decades on account of its solid blend of comedy, horror, believable special effects and shrewd writing. In a nutshell, Tremors is a throwback to the B-grade monsters movies of old, but with a contemporary feel and a more agreeable tone. Director Ron Underwood also achieves the coveted "afternoon matinee" charm, rendering this a flat-out fun motion picture no matter your mood. It's one of few films that achieves an ideal balance of comedy and horror, and it's also one of the best PG-13, family-friendly horrors you will ever see.

A pair of hillbilly handymen, Valentine McKee (Kevin Bacon) and Earl Bassett (Fred Ward) make their living carrying out various jobs here and there. Heading into the flyspeck town of Perfection, Nevada in search of work, they meet graduation student Rhonda LeBeck (Finn Carter), an expert in seismology who begins recording some strange readings underground. People soon begin to go missing and a few dead bodies show up, putting the locals on edge. Investigating the matter, McKee and Bassett discover an array of giant wormlike creatures called Graboids living under the ground, with sharp teeth and huge, gaping maws. Able to take down cars and break into structures, the denizens of Perfection - including gun-toting hillbilly couple Burt (Michael Gross) and Heather (Reba McEntire) - are forced to hide on the roofs of any available building, seeking a way to destroy the threat or escape to safer pastures before they fall victim to starvation, dehydration or Graboid consumption.

Rather than simply imitating their influences, screenwriters S.S. Wilson and Brent Maddock improve upon '50s creature features by introducing interesting and resourceful characters. None of the folks here are as brainless as one would expect from the genre: they actually grow to learn about the Graboids, and start thinking and strategising, much like normal people would do in such a situation. Added to this, the dialogue is strong throughout, full of witty bantering and clever exchanges. Especially strong is the amusing interplay between McKee and Bassett. The pair feel like long-time friends, and the script gives them quirks to heighten their personality (they solve arguments with games of "Rock, Paper, Scissors"). Another strong element of Tremors is that it doesn't feel the need to reveal everything about these giant worms, leaving their origins a complete mystery. Most monster movies are saddled with tiresome exposition, but Tremors is played with more smarts. Rhonda may be the trademark scientist of the piece, but her theories are terse and the discussions make sense. Consequently, the film is endowed with a snappy pace.

Tremors also transcends the monster movie genre by creating real tension and employing a sense of creativity in shot construction. Underwood does not show the big menaces immediately, instead using Jaws-like POV shots, building curiosity about the worms. The monsters are revealed slowly, too; Underwood teases us with fleeting glimpses at first before giving us the full picture. And when the creatures do emerge, they look highly convincing. The Graboids were executed through practical animatronics, giving them a tangible disposition than computers cannot replicate. Better yet, the illusion still stands today. Underwood also gets the tone right; Tremors is silly and funny, but not a dumb parody. The film has a sense of humour, but the narrative is taken seriously as well. The Graboids do post a threat, leading to some intense confrontational sequences and shocking kills. It's the fun-loving sensibility which gives the picture its charm, derived from the amusing chatter and a few awesomely ridiculous scenes (Burt and Heather do not take kindly to a monster intruding into their firearm-laden basement).

Cast chemistry represents another strong asset of Tremors, as the actors give admirable life to the delightful screenplay. Front and centre are Bacon and Ward, who make for a great comedic team, bouncing off one another beautifully. The pair's repartee keeps the film fun to watch throughout, and it's hard to imagine any other actors being this effective. However, Bacon and Ward are pretty much shown up by Michael Gross, who was given the best character and the best dialogue to sink his teeth into. Equally good is country singer McEntire, making her film debut here as Burt's feisty wife. Young Ariana Richards also appears here, getting off rather easy compared to what she was about to go through in Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park just three years later.

Naturally, Tremors has its flaws - some of the music is a bit chintzy, a pole vaulting sequence feels a bit awkward, and a kiss before the end credits is cheesy as hell - but it holds up surprisingly well for an early '90s creature feature (it's aged far more gracefully than Anaconda). It might not have been much of a box office hit when initially released, but it picked up steam as people discovered it on home video and cable TV, leading to a handful of sequels and a television show. This is due to the fact that Tremors is hard to dislike, assuming you enjoy having a good time. Without being an award winner, it's a dynamite comedy-horror which is worth your time and never gets old.

8.3/10

"Time to meet the devil."

An unreasonable amount of expectation surrounded 2013's Only God Forgives, as it's the second collaboration of director Nicolas Winding Refn and star Ryan Gosling after 2011's Drive. Fans of Drive expecting something similar will be disappointed - you see, Drive was, in fact, more of a gun-for-hire project for Refn, who was called upon to put his distinct audio-visual stamp on a script by James Sallis. Only God Forgives, on the other hand, is a Refn project through and through, finding the Danish filmmaker both writing and directing this breathtaking, surreal mood piece that ponders the futility of revenge. The product is destined to be 2013's most polarising motion picture, though this reviewer found the experience utterly absorbing. It's pure art-house all the way through to its core, with deliberate pacing, ambiguous scripting and extended patches of wordless imagery.

In Bangkok, lowlife drug dealer Billy (Tom Burke) rapes and kills a 16-year-old prostitute, leading to his murder at the hands of the girl's father, spurred on by corrupt police captain Chang (Vithaya Pansringarm). Billy's brother Julian (Gosling) is compelled into a vendetta of vengeance, which is further fuelled by the arrival of the boys' mother, Crystal (Kristin Scott Thomas). Crystal demands bloodshed in response to Billy's murder, but this only provokes more violence, attracting Chang's attention as he transforms into a relentless machine. Amid the carnage, Julian finds solace in the company of young dancer Mai (Yayaying Rhatha Phongam).

Only God Forgives is irretrievably dark, with a sense of dread and malevolence permeating every frame. Mainstream viewers are advised to steer clear, as Refn is not interested in selling tickets to you; this is an exquisitely stylish but methodically slow neo-noir tour through Thailand's criminal underworld. It further demonstrates Refn's unique modus operandi, as it's another tale of a broken loner trying to navigate the savage world in which he resides. The film is unadulterated madness, and Refn gives us ample time to observe the horrors and poses, supported by a superbly atmospheric score by Drive composer Cliff Martinez. The music amplifies the experience and enhances the tone, affording an orchestral voice to a movie that's light on dialogue. Indeed, Only God Forgives prefers to show rather than tell. And what a show!

Refn's idiosyncrasies as a filmmaker are unique and distinctive; anyone familiar with Drive, Valhalla Rising or the Pusher movies will recognise his proclivity for extended pauses, stylish photography, short bursts of vicious violence, and a refusal to close on a definitive note. Shot on location in Bangkok, Only God Forgives benefits from its authentic flavour, as characters often speak in their foreign dialect, and the depiction of Thailand is not Americanized to any degree. Being a Refn production, there are scenes of bloodshed, and they are both ferocious and perfectly executed. Bodies are sliced open, and people are tortured in borderline unspeakable ways, and Refn lets us observe in graphic detail, though he manages the remarkable feat of being tasteful. A less skilful filmmaker would elect the overt torture porn approach, but Refn knows when to cut away, imbuing Only God Forgives with a rare sense of class. It's not that Refn was too scared to show everything - it's that he was astute enough to not cross the line into bad taste, and some occurrences here are so horrifying that mere implication is disturbing enough. It genuinely feels as if every audio-visual component of Only God Forgives was subject to heavy deliberation. A cinema screening is the best way to experience it, as you're more able to absorb the tremendous craftsmanship.

However, not everything in Refn's script gels - there are scenes that either go too far (some of the symbolism is pretty heavy-handed) or make no sense beyond gratuitous shock value (Julian mutilates a character's dead body in a completely baffling moment). Suffice it to say, Refn's style denies a strong human element, meaning emotional investment is impossible. Only God Forgives doesn't engage on a profound level, but that doesn't mean it's shallow; on the contrary, the thoughtfulness and deliberateness of its composition is stunning. It's David Lynch-esque in its construction, with Refn embracing abstract tendencies, blurring the line between reality and fantasy in sequences that explore the emptiness of Julian's soul. A great deal of patience is required to sit through Only God Forgives, particularly whenever Refn's camera returns to a karaoke bar to observe Chang pouring his heart out through singing. Such moments did elicit a few laughs in my screening, but I found the scenes almost unbearably poignant, especially with the knowledge that karaoke singing is a significant aspect of Thai culture.

Gosling may be perceived as the star here, but he's very understated, delivering maybe twenty lines of dialogue throughout the movie's runtime. It's a near-mute performance of nuanced stares, and it's astonishing to see how much emotion he can convey without uttering a word. Gosling doesn't just rehash his Drive persona, though; instead, he creates a distinct new character for Julian. Equally good is Thomas, who's the complete opposite of Gosling, dispersing vulgar dialogue and never baulking from speaking her mind. She's certainly broad, but it works, as she adds spunk to what is otherwise a wordless staring contest. Even better, though, is newcomer Vithaya Pansringarm, who's absolute dynamite as Chang. He's such an unexpectedly interesting character; one moment, he's committing indescribable acts of violence, and the next, he's showing his delicate side. Pansringarm is a powerhouse, and it's his haunting performance that will stick with you the most. Also deserving of praise is the beautiful Yayaying Rhatha Phongam, who keeps pace with Gosling and shares several memorable scenes with him.

Only God Forgives is another superb feather in Refn's cinematic cap: an avant-garde experiment in strange beauty and harrowing horror concerned with existential questions and the mysticism of Asia. At a scant 90 minutes, it gets in and out without feeling agonisingly protracted or overlong. You'll either love Only God Forgives or despise it; there's not much of a middle ground. Some viewers will go along for the ride, while others will ridicule the movie as pointless and uneventful. Do not even consider watching it unless you're prepared to keep your mind open and allow Refn's surreal cinematic spell to wash over the screen.

8.1/10

"I feel like there's something in this house."

Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed Scary Movie 3 and 4, laughing out loud several times during both films. But whatever enjoyment I once derived from the series has vanished with Scary Movie 5, or Scary MoVie as it's officially entitled. The need for a Scary Movie 5 is highly questionable in the first place, as the series is no longer relevant. After all, seven years have elapsed since 2006's Scary Movie 4, and, in the interim, the horror genre has been lampooned with more creativity in semi-comedic films like Cabin in the Woods and Zombieland. Plus, Scary Movie 5's main target is the Paranormal Activity franchise, which was already sent up in A Haunted House a few months beforehand. It shouldn't come as any surprise to learn that Scary Movie 5 is not just awful, but offensively so; an obnoxious waste of time and money that wouldn't even be able to entertain the lowest common denominator.

After the mysterious death of Charlie Sheen (played by himself), his three orphaned kids are found in a cabin in the woods. Retrieved in a feral condition, they're adopted by their uncle Dan (Simon Rex) and his girlfriend Jody (Ashley Tisdale). The children claim to have a supernatural protector known as "Mama," which unnerves their new guardians as odd things begin to happen around the house. Setting up security cameras and walking around with camcorders to capture everything that goes down in their residence, Dan and Jody eventually call in a psychic to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, Jody is dealing with a stressful upcoming ballet performance, and Dan has problems at the genetics lab where he experiments with chimps.

Aside from the obvious Paranormal Activity spoofing, Scary Movie 5 also sends up Mama, which was released a short three months before this dogshit polluted multiplexes. Also parodied is 2013's Evil Dead, which was released just a week prior. (It wouldn't be surprising if Scary Movie 5 did in fact start production just a week before its scheduled release date, since it's so sloppy.) Bizarrely, the film also targets internet memes for no discernible reason, while 50 Shades of Grey is spoofed despite not even being a movie yet. Other targets include Inception and Black Swan, even though those movies came out three years ago, while Rise of the Planet of the Apes gets a look in, just because. The script for Scary Movie 5 is actually credited to David Zucker and Pat Proft, both of whom contributed to The Naked Gun. (Zucker was also responsible for Airplane!, arguably the funniest film of all time.) Now, the pair could not devise a funny joke at gunpoint. At one stage, a character has a massive bout of flatulence that sends people flying all over the place, and the narrator complains about the smell. Are you sure you want to watch this movie now?

The biggest issue with Scary Movie 5 is that it simply does not feel like a cohesive movie - it feels like a series of YouTube skits strung together without any thought towards narrative cohesion or dramatic momentum. The last two instalments were pretty much a string of skits as well, but at least they made sense and built up to their respective endings. Here, the climax takes all of two minutes and happens completely out of the blue. There's no care or passion behind the picture - it's as if the filmmakers were rushing through every set-up, wanting to get it done as soon as possible and not caring about how slipshod their work might be. And get this: for whatever reason, when a couple of characters are driving between locations, we see a few odd shots of an empty toy car. It looks like it's meant to be the set-up for some kind of comedic payoff, but the moment never arrives. Is the toy car meant to be a gag, or is it meant to look real? Was the film made on such a cheap budget that they couldn't afford to shoot a proper car driving by? What the fuck is this shit?

Scary Movie 5 is not just unfunny but obnoxiously unfunny, with failed gags that not only fall flat but outright offend. The filmmakers must have purposely set out to make an unwatchable finished product because no writers or directors in their right minds could deem this material tolerable by any stretch of the imagination. In the entire film, I chuckled twice. I did not laugh out loud at any point - I just chuckled. Hence, there are maybe 30 seconds of worthwhile footage in the 90-minute movie, and that estimate is generous. Terry Crews even shows up at one stage, only to score absolutely no laughs at all. Crews has been in his fair share of bad movies, but even at his worst, he's usually funny. But not here. Scary Movie 5 is such a black hole of awfulness that not even Terry Crews can make successful jokes within it. There's actually barely enough material here to justify a feature-length runtime due to the threadbare plot, hence it ends about the 75-minute mark, after which a horrendous 15-minute blooper reel unfolds over the closing credits. I worked at a cinema that screened this malarkey, and at no point did I witness a single patron sit through it all. Everyone wanted to leave. On more than one occasion, I heard customers complaining about how terrible the movie was. Poor souls.

Perhaps the film's woeful disposition can be attributed to one thing: up to 70% of the content was shot two months ahead of its scheduled release. Reportedly, the original cut was essentially a different flick altogether, but reshoots occurred in February 2013 to change the storyline completely. If that's not a red flag, I do not know what is. Scary Movie 5 goes beyond the bottom of the barrel; it's disgracefully stupid and fucking retarded. Even the brain-dead would be capable of making a better movie. A few months ago, I proclaimed that Movie 43 was the worst motion picture of 2013, believing it to be scientifically impossible for any movie to be worse. Lo and behold, I must eat my words: Scary Movie 5 is worse than Movie 43. Do not see this movie under any circumstances. It will cause you physical pain.

ZERO FUCKING STARS

"This time, we're going to see this through to the bitter end! Or lager end..."

In the interim since Hot Fuzz in 2007, Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost have moved onto bigger things: Wright dabbled in Hollywood moviemaking with Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, while Pegg and Frost starred in Paul, as well as a host of other American projects. It's exciting to see the guys reuniting six years on, getting back to their British roots to put their own trademark spin on the science fiction genre with 2013's The World's End. The third instalment in the trio's Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy, the flick further demonstrates the superb spoofing instincts of writers Wright and Pegg, who employ their extensive knowledge of cinema to pay homage to genre classics while still creating a mightily entertaining and original classic of their own. The World's End is a different type of endeavour for the lads, but it's no less satisfying than Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, closing the trilogy with heart, plenty of rambunctious mischief, and a few nice pints of beer.

In the early 1990s, five schoolboy friends led by fearless rebel Gary King (Simon Pegg) set out to conquer "The Golden Mile" - that is, a pub crawl involving twelve taverns that concludes at The World's End. Alas, the boyhood chums fall short of the final pub, which haunts Gary into his adult life. Now in his forties, Gary has hit rock bottom. To pull himself out of the doldrums, he hatches a plan to reunite with his former pals and attempt The Golden Mile once again. Tracking down family man Peter (Eddie Marsan), divorced contractor Steven (Paddy Considine), stuffy real estate agent Oliver (Martin Freeman) and corporate lawyer Andy (Nick Frost), Gary leads them back to their old stomping grounds in Newton Haven, where the drinking soon commences and the gang are joined by Oliver's sister Sam (Rosamund Puke). However, it quickly becomes clear that things have changed, as nobody seems to remember them, and the people act strangely. Discovering that something quite sinister could be happening, the pub crawl nevertheless remains a goal at the forefront of Gary's mind, who's determined to reach The World's End no matter the cost.

Compared to other 2013 comedies like This is the End, The World's End is not one of the funniest movies you will see this year. However, it is one of the most satisfying because it supplements its flat-out fun disposition with genuine creativity. Similar to Hot Fuzz, Wright and Pegg take a deceptively simple premise and run with it; the big picture is a lot bigger than initially anticipated, resulting in several twists and turns that lead the story in unexpected directions. By the time we reach the story's dénouement, we're much further from the pub crawl conceit than we could have ever imagined. Added to this, The World's End is arguably the most poignant addition to the Blood and Ice Cream Trilogy. Wright aims for depth and heart, with the relationship between Gary and Andy instilling the narrative with a solid emotional centre and allowing for a shrewd examination of friendship and growing up. The World's End is pure class, assembled by a creative team who care about their craft. It's an utter treat to see such an altogether unique comedy emerge from this cinematic climate dominated by remakes, reboots and sequels.

The World's End is not on the same level as Shaun or Hot Fuzz in terms of laughs, which may be disappointing for some. To be sure, a funnier screenplay could've catapulted the picture into the stratosphere, but Wright's directorial approach compensates for this. You see, as opposed to other modern "comedies" like Movie 43 and Scary Movie 5, The World's End does not live and die by its comedy. Wright is not perpetually on the prowl for another laugh; he never loses sight of the importance of storytelling, tension, or effective mise-en-scène. The World's End is not always hilarious, but it's never boring, and that's a huge compliment for a comedy. Even if you don't laugh much, you'll still enjoy the story.

Of course, The World's End contains callbacks to the earlier collaborations of Wright, Pegg and Frost; it would not be a constituent of the Blood and Ice Cream Trilogy without a Cornetto, and there are surprise cameos here from some of the Spaced gang. The movie is also filled with nods to genre classics, including Village of the Damned and Invasion of the Body Snatchers, in addition to more obscure titles. However, Wright's style, voice and energy as a filmmaker ensure that The World's End transcends homage to become its own entity. Wright is an adamant film connoisseur, as well, shooting on 35mm film as opposed to the cheaper digital alternative. Consequently, The World's End looks beautiful. The film-like appearance enhances the sense of atmosphere, and the cinematography by Bill Pope is far more skilful than we had any right to expect on a project like this. Pope is actually an award-winning cinematographer who also lensed The Matrix and Spider-Man 2, and his immense talents are a tremendous asset. Furthermore, Wright continues to display his knack for great action scenes here, orchestrating a number of brawls that are thrilling and amusing in equal measure.

Admirably, Pegg and Frost do not rely on their usual comic shtick here, instead playing characters with more nuance. Pegg does play a fairly standard character type, but there are deeper aspects to the role that gradually emerge as the story progresses, and the manic energy that Pegg brings to the table is truly marvellous. After all, Gary grows more and more intoxicated as the story goes on, and Pegg manages to maintain consistency. Frost, meanwhile, portrays something of a sad sack, which is wholly unexpected considering the scenery-chewing roles he's played in the past. Fortunately, he pulls it off with confidence, and this may open up a whole lot of new doors for the actor. As for the rest of the gang, Freeman, Considine and Marsan all place forth competent performances and provide solid support for Pegg and Frost.

As with Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, The World's End undoubtedly improves on repeat viewings when you know what to expect and can better absorb the nuances of the filmmaking and storytelling. Rather than an out-and-out comedy like its predecessors, this is more of a Brit sci-fi flick with a few laughs, and it definitely works in this sense, even though a wittier script and a few more jokes would not have gone astray. The World's End is definitely a suitable conclusion for the Cornetto Trilogy due to its unexpected climax and the word "end" in its title. However, I hope that this won't be the last time Wright, Pegg and Frost get together to make a movie...

8.6/10

"I've been trying to find you for over a year. My employer's dying, he wants to thank you for saving his life."

Even the most die-hard X-Men fans cannot defend 2009's X-Men Origins: Wolverine, a misguided disaster in every conceivable way. It would seem that even the folks behind the film acknowledge its awfulness, so now we have 2013's The Wolverine, which distances itself from its forerunner by avoiding a numerical appendage and not tying into its events. Luckily, The Wolverine is a vast improvement over the previous movie, with director James Mangold delivering the best cinematic representation of Logan/Wolverine to date, on top of presenting the defining appearance of Hugh Jackman in the titular role. Mangold's picture smartly avoids including as many mutant cameos as possible, instead delivering a lean, focused action-thriller. Based on a popular comic series from the 1980s, The Wolverine succeeds due to its grounded nature, with the writers choosing to create a character study instead of a dumb blockbuster.

Picking up a few years after 2006's X-Men: The Last Stand, the story finds Logan (Jackman) in the Alaskan wilderness living off the land. Haunted by the death of Jean Grey (Famke Janssen), Logan wishes to live in solitude, in fear of endangering anyone else he holds dear. He's soon tracked down by Yukio (Rila Fukushima), who summons Logan to Japan at the behest of billionaire industrialist Yashida (Hal Yamanouchi). Logan saved Yashida from an atomic bomb during WW2, and now the former soldier is on his deathbed, wanting to say goodbye to his old friend. However, Logan is also offered an unexpected proposition: the chance to be relieved of his regenerative abilities, allowing him to live the life of a mortal. Yashida wants to live forever and wants Logan's abilities transferred to him. Despite refusing the offer, Logan is soon stripped of his powers, making him vulnerable to attack as he works to protect Yashida's granddaughter, Mariko (Tao Okamoto), from vicious Yakuza thugs.

Once Logan and Mariko go on the run, the narrative becomes a tad convoluted, as character loyalties are blurry, and there are a few twists that probably will not hold up on repeat viewings. Still, the attempt at sophistication is appreciated, especially in light of the movie's horrendous predecessor. The Wolverine also excels in its depiction of Logan. The issue with many superhero movies, especially X-Men Origins: Wolverine, is that the hero is invincible, rendering the conflicts predictable and unexciting. Writers Mark Bomback, Scott Frank and Christopher McQuarrie fortunately rectify that problem here, as the story explores Wolverine's vulnerabilities, making for much more engaging viewing. Without his immortality, Logan enters a combat scenario more susceptible to injury and even death, heightening tension.

There's an underlying stream of psychological complexity to The Wolverine, which is entirely welcome. Rather than the dumb action theatrics of the previous outing, the script explores the effects of Wolverine's immortality on his psyche, and this is a predominantly character-based story, without a big bang every ten minutes, just for the sake of it. Logan here is a fleshed-out, three-dimensional character, and his sadness over Jean's death humanises him and lends unexpected weight to his quest. The drama and character development here are undeniably classy, and they are handled with much more competency than one would expect in a summer blockbuster, which is a testament to Mangold's talents as a dramatic filmmaker. It's a shame, though, that the movie succumbs to overblown blockbuster sensibilities into its final third. Granted, this is a summer film, but the need for a big action climax is questionable, especially one as cartoonish as this, clashing with the tone established in the first two acts. It feels as if one person wrote the drama, while the final act was created by someone else entirely. Considering that McQuarrie's script was reportedly rewritten by dumb action film veteran Mark Bomback (Live Free or Die Hard, the Total Recall remake), this could actually be the case.

Keeping the picture afloat at all times is the craftsmanship. Mangold is a skilled director, and Ross Emery's cinematography is also marvellous. Setting The Wolverine in Japan for most of its duration gives the production a different feeling than other superhero movies. The elegant Japanese sets, the sense of culture and the production design bestow the picture with a unique flavour, not to mention the proceedings owe more to samurai movies than modern-day comic book flicks. For the most part, the action scenes are magnificent, most notably a breathtaking conflict atop a bullet train that looked cheesy in the trailers but turns out to be a real highlight. And while the climax is overblown to a detriment, it's still watchable, thanks to Mangold's competent touch. Unfortunately, however, The Wolverine is a PG-13 film, which is a problem since Mangold is clearly pulling punches. At times, shaky-cam and prohibitive editing are used to mask Wolverine's kills, and it feels inorganic and awkward due to the serious tone of the piece. The Wolverine didn't need to be a cheap gore-fest, but a brutal, real depiction of Wolverine's abilities would be more satisfying and coherent. Likewise, Wolverine swears from time to time here, but it feels as if he's holding back, and a less restrictive rating could've livened the dialogue.

Recovering from the 2009 movie with panache, Jackman delivers an exceptional performance as Logan, confidently handling the rage-fuelled action scenes and the dramatic stuff with effortless abandon. The script introduces a tender side to Wolverine, which Jackman again handles well; he conveys the inner anguish of the role and brings out the tortured aspects of Logan's psyche to laudable effect. He also reached his pinnacle physique for the movie - Jackman himself has said that he finally achieved the build he always dreamed of for Wolverine, and it shows. Fortunately, the supporting cast is strong, with Mangold predominantly relying on authentic Asian performers instead of big stars. Newcomers Fukushima and Okamoto are especially good, while Svetlana Khodchenkova makes a strong impression as Viper, a mutant with poisonous abilities. The only other recognisable actor here is Janssen, whose part amounts to a cameo, though Will Yun Lee (Red Dawn, Die Another Day) also appears.

Every superhero movie these days is concerned with universe-building, from the classy way that Marvel does it to the shoddy method employed by The Amazing Spider-Man. For the most part, The Wolverine stands alone, telling an independent story without the need to pull in a heady roster of familiar faces or comic book characters. There is, however, a mid-credits scene that you must stick around for which teases the future of the X-Men series. You could not pay me to reveal what happens in the scene, who cameos in it, or what end it achieves, but suffice it to say, it's a stunner. All in all, The Wolverine is a pleasant surprise, far better than this reviewer had anticipated. It gets the tone of Wolverine right, explores his personality in a potent way, and shows off his berserker rage. Nevertheless, one cannot help but wonder what Darren Aronofsky could've made of this project if he hadn't dropped out in pre-production, as he reportedly aspired to create the brutal, full-blooded, R-rated Wolverine flick that we've been waiting for. Now, that would've been phenomenal.

7.3/10

"A bug invasion will not happen on my watch."

It's surprising that 1997's Starship Troopers never managed to spawn a proper franchise. Directed by Paul Verhoeven and based on Robert Heinlein's 1959 sci-fi novel, the original Troopers was a spectacular action extravaganza, conveying a sprawling war story backed by strong social satire and competent production values. Alas, its disappointing box office squashed series potential, only leading to a cancelled TV series and two horrendous straight-to-video sequels that fans would prefer to forget about. Luckily, 2012's Starship Troopers: Invasion is a slight but welcome step in the right direction despite being a moderately low-budget, straight-to-video, all-CGI production. Invasion restores a convincing sense of scope to the series, contributing to and expanding the Troopers mythology in the hope of finally sparking that long-overdue franchise. It's not perfect by any means, but it's impressive enough considering its origins, and die-hard Troopers fans should have a ball with the action scenes.

In deep space, the mobile infantry soldiers aboard the spaceship Alesia are assigned to clear out a bug infestation at military outpost Fort Casey. Meanwhile, intelligence officer Carl Jenkins (Justin Doran, replacing Neil Patrick Harris from the original movie) commandeers the spaceship John A. Warden for a classified mission, much to the chagrin of the ship's captain, Carmen Ibanez (Luci Christian, replacing Denise Richards). Joining the soldiers aboard the Alesia following their latest mission, Ibanez soon receives word that the John A. Warden has stopped responding, suggesting that bugs might have overrun the ship. The soldiers, along with Ibanez and the team's incarcerated leader, Henry "Hero" Varro (David Wald), are sent to board the John A. Warden to investigate, with no clue that they could be walking into an insidious trap set by the alien bugs. Overseeing the operation from afar is General Johnny Rico (David Matranga, replacing Casper Van Dien), who's compelled to get involved when the John A. Warden begins an unstoppable descent towards Earth.

Invasion wears its budget on its sleeve. Director Shinji Aramaki did not have the benefit of a blank cheque to breathe life into the script, compelling the creative team to do the very best job possible with meagre resources. The most underwhelming aspect of Invasion is the animation. While the CGI excels in terms of ships, landscapes and armour, facial detailing is underdone, and a lot of human movement looks robotic and unnatural, not to mention that the characters at no point look to be imbued with souls. Additional problems arise with the dialogue, as lip synchronisation is spotty at best. This is more than likely because it was intended to be in multiple languages, but it's distracting nevertheless. Invasion more or less feels like a feature-length video game cut scene, as it also lacks the energy to sustain proper momentum. Furthermore, the music is very chintzy, solidifying the production's "video game cut scene" sensibility, and the movie feels more like a generic space game (think Halo) than an intelligent sci-fi like Verhoeven's masterpiece.

Fans of 1997's Starship Troopers will enjoy seeing Johnny Rico, Carl Jenkins and Carmen Ibanez make a return, though the novelty is somewhat ruined since they each have different voices and faces. The absence of Neil Patrick Harris is somewhat understandable, but are Casper Van Dien and Denise Richards really that busy these days? Van Dien's absence is especially baffling since he has an executive producer credit. Outside the returning protagonists, Invasion is populated with a host of halfway interesting but largely forgettable soldiers, albeit with nifty nicknames such as "Ratzass" and "Ice Blonde." Most interesting is the character of "Trig," who's given a backstory revealing that she uses a homemade .50 calibre rifle that kills bugs with a single shot. But for the most part, the characters are lost in the thick of the action due to the pedestrian script that suffers from bland dialogue and poor characterisation.

On a brighter note, Invasion stays true to its lineage; it's as blood-soaked and gory as any of the previous movies, with the animation graphically depicting plenty of insect goo, severed limbs, and blood and guts. There's also a bit of CGI female nudity for anyone who enjoys that sort of thing (I'm perfectly happy with live-action T&A, thanks). To the credit of the filmmakers, the shoot-'em-up scenes are often exciting and make for enjoyable viewing, though things do get repetitive; we can only see clusters of men shooting at bugs so many times before scenes begin bleeding together.

It's crucial to watch Invasion with tempered expectations, knowing full well what to expect: a fun but ultimately insignificant straight-to-video sequel that in no way feels like a theatrical film. With more money and better resources, the resultant movie could have been epic, but what we have here is decent, at least. It's probably too late at this stage to ask for a true sequel, but at least we'll always have the 1997 original, which delivers more than just pure action.

5.8/10