Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"This thing is attached to Mia's soul like a leech. If I'm reading this right, it's become her."

Horror remakes justifiably strike fear into the hearts of genre fans, with bad remakes outnumbering the decent ones by a significant margin. A remake of Sam Raimi's 1981 cult classic The Evil Dead is particularly sensitive territory, as it had the potential to be a brainless PG-13 rehash made purely for easy box office returns. How surprising, then, that 2013's Evil Dead falls into the win category; it's an imaginative, chilling horror movie that retains its predecessors' proclivity for gleeful R-rated absurdity. It had the full support of both Raimi and star Bruce Campbell, showing that this is less of a money grab and more of an attempt to continue the long-dormant Evil Dead series. Calling it a reboot or a remake is not exactly accurate; it can easily be considered the fourth instalment in the series, as it doesn't deny that the events of the prior movies ever took place.

Struggling with her heroin addiction, Mia (Jane Levy) retreats to an old family cabin in the woods to go cold turkey for a weekend. Joining Mia for support is her estranged brother David (Shiloh Fernandez), David's girlfriend Natalie (Elizabeth Blackmore), and friends Olivia (Jessica Lucas) and Eric (Lou Taylor Pucci). As night falls, the gang discover the cabin's cellar, which has been the site of horrifying witchcraft. Although unnerved, they are determined to stay put to help Mia. Before long, Eric carelessly reads out some of the evil chants contained within the Book of the Dead, unleashing malevolent supernatural forces determined to possess everyone and turn them all into horrific zombie-ish demons intent on killing and mutilating.

Despite the basic setting and a few set pieces, Evil Dead is not a slavish remake of Raimi's film, as it plots its own course and does a few novel things, subverting expectations at every turn. The fact that Mia is a recovering drug addict makes for a nice new narrative angle, plus David is hesitant to believe in the demonic stuff as he just assumes that Mia has lost her mind. The climax is also inventive, contributing something fresh to the franchise mythology. With that said, though, the story does remain fairly standard-order, and it's hard to take these types of plots seriously after last year's The Cabin in the Woods. The biggest misstep of this new Evil Dead is retaining the rape of Mia by the forest - Raimi himself regrets using the tree rape in the original film; hence, it's surprising that a similar scene exists here. It's a repellent and unnecessarily macabre moment, and while it does serve the purpose of showing how the demonic spirits get inside Mia, something more creative would've been appreciated. Also, it's a shame the film doesn't give us a better sense of who the characters are. The pre-carnage stuff is strong, but there isn't enough dimension to these people. Then again, this is a horror film we're dealing with, and we're paying for the bloody stuff.

Although the 1981 film rustles up huge laughs amid the gore and terror, Raimi wasn't actually aiming for comedy-horror, and eventually embraced the comedic possibilities of the franchise with Evil Dead 2. With the benefit of a better budget and improved technology, Alvarez goes for the type of extreme intensity Raimi was initially aiming for, and he hits the bullseye. Evil Dead is one intense exercise in terror, with its shrieking musical score, loud sound effects and punishing gore enough to send chills down the spines of even the most jaded horror buffs. Alvarez and co-writer Rodo Sayagues have a palpable understanding of the appeal of this franchise, orchestrating numerous set-pieces involving bodily dismemberment, in which any tools or objects in sight are used to make a big bloody mess.

Evil Dead is a supremely brutal picture, gleefully R-rated, and it's no surprise that the MPAA slapped it with an NC-17 at first. Skin burns under boiling water, blood is vomited up, people are set on fire, and limbs are torn off. Meanwhile, the climax literally paints the whole world red. It feels more gleeful and fun than "torture porn" films like Saw and Hostel, too, making it easier to digest. Best of all, Alvarez and his team were determined to use in-camera effects, with only minimal CGI for minor touch-ups. It's an outstanding creative decision that will definitely be appreciated by those who detest CGI-laden horror pictures, and the technical achievements here are phenomenal. Apparently, 70,000 gallons of fake blood were used during filming, which sounds like an accurate figure. Everything from the cinematography, the editing, and especially the sound design is top-notch here, making great use of the modest $17 million budget.

Instead of attempting the impossible task of re-casting Bruce Campbell's iconic Ash role, Alvarez creates a new slate of characters for this version. What's interesting about the movie is how it toys with expectations, leaving us trying to figure out who exactly will emerge as the protagonist. The most notable performer here is Levy as Mia. She nails it, transforming from a meek girl to a sinister human doorway to Hell. Levy never hits a false note, and it's a bonus that she's likeable and beautiful. Fernandez lacks charisma and is a bit bland on the whole, but he's serviceable. Fortunately, Pucci is better, full of zest and charm. And when the shit starts to hit the fan, Pucci sells the intensity exceptionally well. As the rest of the token females, meanwhile, Lucas and Blackmore are strong if unremarkable.

The best thing to be said about this new Evil Dead is that it justifies its existence without having to be either an empty fan-service tribute or a bland, gritty reboot. It's a solid movie on its own terms and a welcome antidote to the lame, watered-down excuse for horror movies that we have endured for much too long. For the right audience - the type with a strong stomach and who aren't easily scared - this is the purest horror entertainment in recent memory. Though even if you like this type of gory horror, it's best not to watch it on a full stomach.

7.6/10

"There are too many ideas and things and people. Too many directions to go. I was starting to believe the reason it matters to care passionately about something, is that it whittles the world down to a more manageable size."

Although 2002's Adaptation is based on Susan Orlean's nonfiction book The Orchid Thief, it's far more than that label implies. While the screenplay by Charlie Kaufman does incorporate elements of Orlean's work, this is a brilliantly meta motion picture which is actually about Kaufman (played by Nicolas Cage) struggling to adapt the aforementioned novel for the screen. Kaufman suffered writer's block during the real-life screenwriting process, and wound up writing a sensationalised account of his painstaking endeavour to adapt the book. The finished product is nothing short of a masterpiece, an absurdist black comedy as well as a postmodern satire of today's entertainment industry. Kaufman's script is extraordinary, yet it's director Spike Jonze's cinematic treatment of the material which ultimately catapults it to brilliance. In both conception and execution, this is a home run.

Orlean's novel was expanded from an article she wrote for The New Yorker, and is ultimately a free-floating rumination on flowers and her own desires. It's not a solid foundation for a feature film, leaving screenwriter Charlie Kaufman struggling to adapt the work without turning it into a Hollywood movie. Also in Charlie's life is twin brother Donald, who's the antithesis of Charlie; whereas Donald is relaxed and outgoing, Charlie is inhibited, neurotic and analytical. (Adaptation further blurs the line between reality and fantasy by crediting the screenplay to both Charlie and Donald, even though the latter is actually pure fiction, a figment of Charlie's imagination.) Donald aspires to write scripts as well, attending screenwriting seminars as he pens a thriller while Charlie works to adapt The Orchid Thief. Meanwhile, the narrative also dips back in time to watch Orlean (played by Meryl Streep) working on her book. She gets to know orchid thief John Laroche (Chris Cooper), who initially looks like a toothless hick but turns out to be intelligent and ambitious.

Adaptation is steeped in multi-textural thematic layers, with most every scene and action part of a perfectly-judged tapestry to tell this remarkable tale. Even the title of the film is hard to nail, since it's literally about Kaufman struggling with an adaptation of a book while also having trouble adapting to life, and he's writing about Orlean who's struggling to adapt as well. Fortunately, Kaufman at no point grows too enamoured with his own genius, hence Adaptation never comes across as too self-conscious; instead, it's well-judged by Kaufman and Jonze. More than that, Kaufman has achieved something remarkable by presenting one of the most candid and searing portrayals of what it's like to write and make motion pictures. What's also interesting is the way that reality and fantasy mesh and intermingle to such an extent that it's hard to distinguish between one and the other. In fact, a number of the real people of the story are turned into fictional characters. We also get a glimpse of the set of Being John Malkovich (which was being filmed at the time the story is set), and several players from that movie get cameos here, including Jonze.

Adaptation's ending has proven to be polarising with both critics and audiences, but it's a perfect way to close the door for many reasons. When Charlie speaks to screenwriting expert Robert McKee (Brian Cox) about his script at one stage, McKee tells him to make sure the final act is good, going on to say that he cannot cheat or bring in a deus ex machina. But that's precisely what Adaptation does, which subverts the rules while also working on several other levels. See, Charlie explains in the first scene that he doesn't want to turn The Orchid Thief into an action movie, but his own experiences while writing go down that route anyway, representing brilliant irony. Furthermore, it feels organic to the story against all odds, and we have to remember that the script for Adaptation is also credited to the fictional Donald Kaufman. Donald is the one who gets Charlie involved in the violence that closes the story, and the climax feels like something Donald has written. After all, Charlie is all about patient drama while Donald writes thrillers, and Charlie actually ends up recruiting Donald to help him develop an ending.

Jonze is Kaufman's cinematic soul mate, pure and simple. As shown in Being John Malkovich, the writer has a gift for cooking up peculiar scripts, and Jonze is perfectly in tune with his concepts, translating them to the screen with visual ingenuity and energy. Such qualities are present in Adaptation. Voiceovers are used a lot throughout the narrative, giving us intimate insight into Kaufman's buzzing mind as well as the contents of Orlean's book. In one scene Robert McKee actually chastises voiceover narration, which makes the use of voiceover here both a sly subversion of the rules and a chance to let us into Kaufman's mind during the creative process. What's also miraculous about Adaptation is the way it remains eminently entertaining without stooping to unnecessary visual flourishes, which is a credit to the well-judged mise-en-scène. The picture is topped off with an enjoyably offbeat score by Carter Burwell.

Cage pulls off an astonishing double act here playing the Kaufman twins, demonstrating his terrific acting chops that are not often glimpsed. Charlie and Donald look the exact same, yet Cage's performances for each of the characters are so complete and nuanced that you'll never have trouble figuring out who's who. It helps that you occasionally see Charlie and Donald sharing the same frame, executed with effects so seamless that you may initially wonder if Cage has a real-life twin. Cage was nominated for a well-deserved Oscar for his efforts, though he lost to Adrian Brody. Outside of Cage, there are a few other seasoned veterans putting their best feet forward. Streep is wonderful, capturing the emotional core of Orlean with seemingly little effort, and ably handling the darker aspects of her role later into the story. Likewise, Cooper disappears into the role of Laroche, becoming unrecognisable with missing teeth and a seamless Southern accent. It earned Cooper an Oscar, and it's not hard to see why. Also in the cast is Tilda Swinton as the executive who hires Charlie, while Cox makes a great impression as McKee.

It's difficult to resist the boundless charms of Adaptation, which became one of the most critically acclaimed films of 2002 for good reason. This film is a miracle, a mind-blowing experience that's daring, unpredictable, original and thoroughly involving. It's amazing that it got made in the first place. Perhaps the best thing about Adaptation is that, if The Orchid Thief was adapted by anyone else, it would've become a dumb Hollywood heist movie, the type that Adaptation actually satirises.

9.3/10

"I knew it was a great mistake for a man like me to fall in love..."

F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby has acquired legendary status since its publication in 1925, becoming a staple of high school literature classes. Film adaptations already exist, but none have made as much of a lasting impact as the book. Enter Australian director Baz Luhrmann, who filters Fitzgerald's novel through his unique filmmaking lens, interpreting Gatsby as a tale full of glorious visual excess. In typical Luhrmann style, 2013's The Great Gatsby is a staggering visual creation, ablaze with colours and dazzling production values, and it's all in 3D for good measure. And you know what? If you can roll with the punches and accept Luhrmann's distinctive approach, Gatsby is a hell of a good motion picture, succeeding not just as a visual feast but also as a potent drama with a solid story at its core. Luhrmann's vision is simply enthralling.

Looking to conquer Wall Street in the summer of 1922, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) moves to New York, renting a home next to an opulent mansion owned by enigmatic millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio). Gatsby's gaudy lifestyle intrigues Carraway, with frequent parties on a grand scale attended by hundreds. Drawn into Gatsby's luxurious world, Carraway soon learns that his neighbour harbours feelings for Daisy Buchanan (Carey Mulligan), Carraway's cousin and Gatsby's former flame. Daisy lives across the water from Gatsby with her philandering husband Tom (rising Aussie star Joel Edgerton), and Gatsby is determined to woo her back. Thus begins a secret affair between the two while Tom deals with his own infidelity with local resident Myrtle Wilson (Isla Fisher). Carraway is drawn deeper and deeper into this world, with the gloss stripped away to reveal the tragedy and obsession lingering underneath.

Luhrmann is clearly enamoured with Fitzgerald's text, framing the narrative around Carraway typing up his memoirs while inside a mental institution. Through this, some of Fitzgerald's words are worked into the film via voiceover and on-screen captions, the latter of which is indulgent but nevertheless enjoyable. Luhrmann also gets to the heart of Gatsby's character, going back in time to give us a better look at his past. However, Luhrmann fails to take advantage of the chances for profound complexity. While it's a brilliant device to romanticise Gatsby (despite being a scumbag) since we're seeing him through Carraway's awestruck eyes, the character of Daisy is poorly handled. Daisy doesn't seem worth all the effort; she's materialistic and shallow, fitting more into Tom's life than Gatsby wants to acknowledge. In other words, Gatsby is in love with the optimistic vision of Daisy he has in his head rather than the real girl. There's solid material here for Luhrmann to delve into how wearying and even dehumanising it is to be someone else's unrealistic romantic ideal, but he fails to explore this to a satisfying degree. Gatsby is a compelling drama, to be sure, but further thematic undercurrents would be appreciated.

While Luhrmann and co-writer Craig Pearce remain reasonably faithful to the source material, the flick is unmistakably Luhrmann, with the director employing his artistic sensibilities to shape the story. The world of 2013's The Great Gatsby is stylised, theatrical and wildly extravagant. Simon Duggan's sharp 3D cinematography accentuates vibrant colours and opulent lighting, while the costumes and sets give the picture a lovely texture. There's staggering beauty to behold in every frame, with Luhrmann achieving this luminosity on a modest $105 million budget. Luhrmann has been derided for his use of anachronistic music, with Jay Z and Beyoncé songs featured at various times, but it actually highlights the timeless nature of the story's messages - Luhrmann draws parallels between the lifestyles of contemporary rappers and the filthy-rich millionaires from the 1920s. Artists like Jay Z, after all, are all about what Gatsby stands for: showboating, chest pounding, and substance-less overindulgence. Furthermore, the music is extremely good here, perfectly complementing the on-screen action. If you can give in to Luhmann's unique vision, the experience is a blast.

What's remarkable about Luhrmann's Gatsby is that it's not an entirely superficial experience. The visuals are lavish, yet the drama also hits hard. Luhrmann knows how to do big set pieces, but he's just as successful with the smaller moments, realising when he needs to settle down to allow the actors to take centre stage. While some critics denounce the film as over-the-top, that's fundamentally the point; Carraway is our entry point into the narrative, and he finds Gatsby's lifestyle extravagant and over-the-top. Hence, we are Carraway, and it's important to inundate us with indulgence to understand why he goes down such a dark path. The 3D enhances this, thrusting the gaudy lifestyle in our faces. The Great Gatsby was shot natively in 3D, and it looks miraculous; some of the greatest 3D you will ever see. Plus, the movie comes alive with energy and vibrancy during the party sequences, making it hard to complain about how embellished they are.

Regardless of the hate that DiCaprio received in the '90s, you cannot deny that he's an outstanding performer, emerging over the past decade or so as one of the most committed actors of his era. Reteaming with Luhrmann, who put him on the map with Romeo + Juliet back in 1996, DiCaprio kills it as Gatsby, perfectly embodying and expressing both aspects of his character: the confident, aspirational millionaire and the wounded, emotionally stunted man-child behind the mask. He's firing on all cylinders here, showing how much he deserves an Oscar statue. Maguire has received a lot of criticism, yet this reviewer has no problem with him. Anyone could play this character, to be sure, and he doesn't own the role, but Maguire is a likeable enough presence. Above all, he's an Everyman, and it's possible to project ourselves onto the blank slate of Nick Carraway. Mulligan, meanwhile, is predictably excellent as Daisy. Edgerton also fares well here, handling what's essentially a cardboard role with genuine skill. Luhrmann clearly wanted Edgerton to be an old-fashioned bad guy, and that's exactly what Edgerton plays. Anyone familiar with the Australian's prior work (Animal Kingdom, The Thing, The Square) might have trouble recognising him due to his demeanour and voice here. It's a fantastic performance. The rest of the actors are just as good, including a tragically underused Adelaide Clemens, who appears for all of one scene (and makes a big impression) before disappearing.

Luhrmann's detractors should stay well clear of The Great Gatsby, as it's one big showcase of the filmmaker's idiosyncrasies refined to perfection. Indeed, this is probably the most impressive and accessible Luhrmann production to date, but there's no talking to you if you hate the director and his sensibilities. Gatsby is a big, lavish Luhrmann melodrama, playing out almost like a Broadway musical with its overacting and unbelievably vast sets. The Great Gatsby will always belong to Fitzgerald, just as Romeo and Juliet will always belong to William Shakespeare, but Luhrmann has created his own memorable visions for both, all the while maintaining great respect for the original source material. It's doubtful we'll ever see another version of The Great Gatsby that's as spectacular as the one that Luhrmann assembles here.

8.3/10

"I don't want this parks department to build any parks, because I don't believe in government. I think that all government is a waste of taxpayer money."

Parks and Recreation debuted in 2009 with a six-episode first season, and it drew criticism even before it hit the airwaves, with many denouncing it as nothing more than a rip-off of The Office. Certainly, there are similarities, as Parks and Rec is a workplace-based show which plays out in a faux documentary style, and it was created by the men behind The Office. But it didn't take long for the show to take off, swiftly finding its own voice and style after a few episodes, and settling into a comfortable groove. Populated with a cavalcade of superlative actors perfectly playing colourful roles, and blessed with razor-sharp writing and strong technical contributions right down the line, Parks and Rec is a genuine winner; an endlessly enjoyable and insanely quotable television show that deserves your attention.

Set in the fictional town of Pawnee, Indiana, the show focuses on a group of government officials from the Parks and Recreation department. The deputy director is Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler), a bubbly, optimistic woman who loves her town and feels determined to do good things. In the first season, Knope proposes to build a community park on an abandoned lot located next to the home of nurse Ann Perkins (Rashida Jones) and her live-in boyfriend Andy Dwyer (Chris Pratt). The director of the parks department is cynical libertarian Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman), who detests the government and abhors his colleagues. Also working with Leslie is underachieving goof Tom Haverford (Aziz Ansari), as well as uninterested intern April Ludgate (Aubrey Plaza), among others. As the show progresses, it introduces health-conscious government official Chris Traeger (Rob Lowe) and the socially awkward Ben Wyatt (Adam Scott), the latter of whom develops a romantic relationship with Leslie. The show mostly concentrates on the everyday antics of these people, with Leslie navigating the frustrating world of bureaucracy and dealing with the eccentricities of both the townsfolk and her friends. A number of larger story arcs are pursued too, with Leslie running for city council and with Andy eventually developing a sweet relationship with April after being dumped by Ann.

That's about the best synopsis which can be provided for the first five seasons without spoiling the experience. Indeed, Parks and Recreation is the type of TV show that you should watch without knowing how things will pan out, as it's easy to get emotionally invested in these characters and care about what happens to them. One of the show's key strengths is the way it develops all of the characters so effortlessly. It's a massive ensemble and it should be difficult to keep tabs on them all, but you get to know each and every one of them, and you'll never mistake one supporting character for another. It also helps that Parks and Rec is so damn funny. Comedy is subjective, to be sure, yet this reviewer laughed heartily and frequently while working through the seasons. The show is highly quotable; it's no surprise that Ron Swanson quotes appear on t-shirts.

The large selection of writers and directors (including Bridesmaids director Paul Feig, The King of Kong helmer Seth Gordon, Arrested Development veteran Troy Miller, and even Poehler) pack a huge amount into every episode, working to keep the storytelling taut but effective. Literally hours of material is excised from each season, demonstrating that only the best stuff was left in the bite-sized 20-minute episodes. Some episodes are more successful than others of course, and there is some plodding from time to time, but Parks and Recreation is for the most part smart, sharp and consistently funny, emerging from the shadow of The Office to become its own independent entity. The faux documentary style makes for involving viewing, with big laughs generated from both the ridiculous situations that occur as well as the direct-to-camera interviews interspersed throughout.

What's most remarkable about Parks and Recreation is the cast; every member of the group is so entertaining, astutely-written and perfectly-performed that they could all front their own show. The production's secret weapon is Nick Offerman as Ron Swanson. This is a career-defining turn from Offerman, infusing his iconic role with a distinctive personality and many quirky traits. Swanson is the best character in the show, and that's saying something, with Offerman turning a potentially one-dimensional curmudgeon into a brilliant character with an unlimited armoury of side-splitting one-liners. Equally good is Amy Poehler, who's almost always on-screen, and who seems utterly incapable of taking a false step or sounding a contrived note. Poehler has a gift for comedy, and she understands the character of Leslie Knope to her very core. It's the sincerity of the acting which really sells it, as Poehler commits to saying and doing some of the most outlandish things. Also memorable is Aubrey Plaza, who nails the deadpan style of comedy as the jaded April. April hates everything and everyone, and it's uproarious to see her projecting her hatred for the world on those around her. April becomes Ron's personal assistant, which is a match made in heaven. Chris Pratt was meant to leave the show after Ann dumps him in season one, but his dumb, underachieving, goofily charming Andy became a fan favourite, and was given a permanent spot in the ensemble. Pratt is terrific, making Andy a believable, endearing character.

Another pivotal cast member is Aziz Ansari, who's extraordinarily funny as Tom Haverford. Rashida Jones plays more of a straight man in the show, but she's no less valuable than the rest of the cast; she's extraordinarily beautiful and she has a flair for comedy. Retta and Jim O'Heir also feature here as Leslie's co-workers, and both are given times to shine. Rob Lowe and Adam Scott are introduced in the second season, and they're great. Scott brings real depth to his role, while Lowe is pure comedy dynamite. Parks and Rec has seen its fair share of guest stars as well; Will Forte, Pamela Reed, Justin Theroux, Nick Kroll and Ben Schwartz all appear, while Paul Rudd shows up to play Leslie's political rival in season four, and Offerman's real-life spouse Megan Mullaly plays Ron's second ex-wife Tammy. Patricia Clarkson is Ron's first ex-wife, also named Tammy, and she's excellent; her ice-cold, uncaring demeanour frightens everyone...except April, who grows to idolise her.

To be sure, Parks and Recreation hit its peak in its second and third seasons, but although signs of fatigue are beginning to emerge, this nevertheless remains one of the most enjoyable shows on TV. It's delightful to spend time in the company of these characters, and it's interesting to see which paths they tread. With season six right around the corner, this reviewer will continue to watch. And if you haven't seen a single episode of this show, give it a shot - you won't regret it.

8.1/10

"Revenge... I've never thought about it before. But when I saw you, I knew I had my answer."

Dead Man Down is the American filmmaking debut of Danish director Niels Arden Oplev, who's most notable for helming the 2009 Swedish version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It's always a troubling notion for foreign directors to travel to Hollywood, and it does not help matters that Dead Man Down is a World Wrestling Entertainment production. Against all odds, though, this is one hell of a good action-thriller that carries the same sophistication and European tone of Oplev's earlier efforts. It's astonishing to discover that the effort came from WWE Studios, who also produced such abortions as The Marine and See No Evil. While Dead Man Down indulges in some brainless action material, the effort carries more maturity than expected. It's nothing too spectacular, but it delivers what it promises on the tin.

A man harbouring many secrets, Victor (Colin Farrell) works as an enforcer for local crime boss Alphonse Hoyt (Terrence Howard), whose organisation is in turmoil due to several incoming threats. Victor makes an unexpected connection with Beatrice (Noomi Rapace), who lives in the building across from him and who was in a car crash that left her with a scarred face. As the pair begin establishing trust, Beatrice's motivations take a sharp turn: she has incriminating video evidence of Victor killing a man, but she will refrain from going to the authorities as long as he kills the man who caused her accident. Although shocked at the request, Victor agrees to take care of the problem, but things become complicated when he discloses his troubled past. As secrets spill out, Victor is revealed to be a man on a vendetta of vengeance against Alphonse, and this may put both himself and Beatrice in the line of fire.

What's notable about J.H. Wyman's screenplay is how it avoids the most obvious clichés. We have seen revenge films before, but not one involving someone who has spent years undercover in a crime syndicate entirely of his own volition and for his own reasons. Likewise, we've seen romances in action films, but it's not often the female is immediately aware of the protagonist's violent disposition. It would be unfairly cynical to say that Dead Man Down is outright unoriginal, as it's not played as obviously as most other movies of this ilk. Furthermore, the film is more of a thriller than a mindless action pic, with character development taking precedence over gunplay. However, the final act does become a tad too standard-order; Beatrice turns into a damsel in distress, and there are a few moments that strain credulity (one gunman just stares at an obvious bomb for a few seconds before it detonates, instead of taking cover). Still, this material is not a deal-breaker, especially with an unexpected character moment at the end between Victor and one of Alphonse's goons he considered a friend.

Photographed by the brilliant Paul Cameron (2004's Collateral), Dead Man Down carries the look and feel of a stylish neo-noir. It's hard to deny that this flick looks beautiful, competently framed and bathed in cold colours that give it a beautiful, slick look belying its modest budget. Furthermore, the action scenes are visually striking and coherent. Even though the camera is a bit shaky at times, it's always easy to follow what's happening during the action, and the set pieces are always exciting. Most exhilarating is the climactic shootout, a stunning action scene that closes the film with a satisfying bang. The screenplay may be flawed, but Oplev's visual treatment of the material is sublime. Furthermore, Dead Man Down carries its R-rating with pride, never baulking from capturing the true realities of this dim and violent world. Most intense is a scene featuring a bunch of feral rats that'll have light-hearted movie-goers squirming in their seats.

Farrell has never had much luck as a leading man, succeeding more as a supporting presence in films like Fright Night and Horrible Bosses (though he's brilliant as a lead actor in In Bruges). He gave it his all here, clearly committing to the material as Victor, but he lacks a spark of excellence to make his performance anything truly special. More successful is Rapace, delivering a staggering portrayal of Beatrice. She's an unwavering source of interest, brilliantly expressing both inward and outward injuries. It's rare to see such a talented female lead in an action film. Meanwhile, Howard makes for an effective heavy, and Dominic Cooper is superb as one of Alphonse's goons.

There is not a great deal that's specifically wrong with Dead Man Down, but it's not exactly the most spectacular film you'll see this year. It's one of those movies that keeps you engaged for most of its runtime without ever achieving full lift-off. Still, this is definitely one to check out, thanks to Oplev's competent direction and the strong cast.

7.1/10

"A ghost is an emotion bent out of shape, condemned to repeat itself time and time again."

Motion pictures executive produced by Guillermo del Toro are usually an exciting prospect, which makes 2013's Mama all the more disappointing. Mama was helmed and co-written by first-time feature film director Andy Muschietti, who expands his 2008 short movie to create this atmospheric ghost story. Given del Toro's talents, and considering his knowledge of the horror genre, it's hard to say exactly why he attached himself to this derivative picture, which has its strengths but ultimately underwhelms. A terrific premise supports the movie, yet Mama is exhaustively idiotic and falls short in terms of gripping storytelling and emotional impact.

After committing a heinous triple murder, Jeffrey (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) kidnaps his two young daughters, Victoria (Megan Charpentier) and Lilly (Isabelle Nélisse), winding up at an abandoned cabin in the woods. Jeffrey is killed, leaving the girls to survive all by themselves. Five years later, Uncle Lucas (Coster-Waldau, again) finally finds his nieces after a seemingly hopeless search, but the girls are in a feral and malnourished state, requiring the assistance of psychiatrist Dr. Dreyfuss (Daniel Kash) to rehabilitate them. Lucas is eventually granted custody of Victoria and Lilly, but only on the condition that Dreyfuss can continue to study the children. Lucas' girlfriend Annabel (Jessica Chastain) is not too thrilled about the situation, preferring to be left alone. It soon becomes clear that a spirit known as Mama might have followed the girls to their new residence and is not pleased with the notion of joint custody.

Although Mama sounds promising, it's ultimately let down by poor screenwriting and storytelling. Internal logic is almost non-existent here. For instance, Annabel has a disdain for motherhood but quickly changes her tune once the girls arrive, giving up her rock music aspirations without an understandable motivation. And the way Annabel warms up to Victoria and Lilly never rings true. Added to this, Dreyfuss says he's a rational man who doesn't believe in ghost stories at one point, but minutes later, he buys the tale of Mama and begins a terribly clichéd Ring-esque investigation. Oh, and characters tend to explore haunted locations at night for whatever reason, and the film culminates with an unsatisfying ending that makes no narrative sense due to the lack of a consistent mythology. Mama admittedly begins with an intriguing prologue that sets the tone, but interest flags as soon as the narrative proper kicks in, with momentum gradually waning. Muschietti's deliberate pacing grows frustrating, and you will find yourself wanting the film to just get on with it (watching Mama pop up behind unsuspecting characters grows repetitive). There is simply not enough here to sustain the picture's 100-minute duration, and the subplots designed for padding are treated incompetently (case in point: a subplot involving the girls' aunt who wants custody of them, which leads precisely nowhere).

Relying primarily on jump-scares underscored by loud music cues, Mama is more of a random string of events than an adequately considered story. There is no consistent through-line to Mama's abilities, hence the nature of the paranormal occurrences keeps changing - it's as if the filmmakers thought about "cool" moments without considering whether or not the non-sequiturs actually serve the plot. For instance, Mama shows up at a hospital once in the movie, taking control of a computer, but never tries such a stunt again. Why doesn't she shut off the patient's life support if she has control of the electronic equipment? Making matters worse, the use of digital effects detracts from the experience, as the CGI looks too obvious, making things less scary. Muschietti does a lot of teasing for the first half of the movie, eschewing a full reveal, but we start seeing Mama too frequently and too clearly, which dispels the illusion. Plus, the image of a mess of hair crawling across the floor like a motorised wig looks preposterous. Worst of all is the climax, which reveals Mama to be an unremarkable digitally-created ghoul, taking away all possible intensity.

On a less negative note, Muschietti shows an impressive command of atmosphere, mood and suspense from time to time. The use of shadows is commendable, and it's unbelievably creepy to see the girls for the first time after their five-year odyssey in the woods. Whenever Muschietti avoids jump-scares, there are some amazingly intense scenes. Furthermore, the acting is better than expected, considering the poor scripting. The young girls are especially good, which is borderline miraculous. Equally great is Chastain, who was last seen in the acclaimed Zero Dark Thirty and who disappears into her role of Annabel here. Also of note is Kash, who could easily be mistaken for Tony Shalhoub.

Mama contains some effectively creepy concepts and nice ideas, not to mention a handful of intense scenes and an occasionally bone-chilling sense of atmosphere, but the end result is too underwhelming and in dire need of a script rewrite. It's only recommended viewing for avid horror fans who may find something of worth here.

4.8/10

"Where is he? Leslie Chow stole twenty million from me, and I figure the Wolf Pack have the best chance of finding him! Doug is my insurance!"

Billed as the final entry in the Hangover franchise (though the box office will likely dictate further pictures), 2013's The Hangover Part III is another sequel that fails to live up to the hit film that spawned it. Although there is a certain hate train for 2009's The Hangover all these years later, it holds up in this reviewer's eyes; it's a riotously funny and refreshing R-rated comedy with high replay value. And now, four years on, Part III is a slight step in the right direction following 2011's disappointing part deux, and it does deliver a few quality gags throughout, but it's underwhelming as a whole. Ultimately coming up short in terms of laughs, Part III crosses the line too often, becoming pointlessly black and cruel, whereas the 2009 film supplied heart and a good-natured spirit.

42-year-old man-child Alan (Zach Galifianakis) has hit a rough patch. Still living at home with no job prospects and no girlfriend, he also becomes tabloid fodder following a freeway accident, and his father (Jeffrey Tambor) dies from a heart attack. An intervention is set up involving his mother (Sondra Currie), brother-in-law Doug (Justin Bartha), sister Tracy (Sasha Barrese), and pals Phil (Bradley Cooper) and Stu (Ed Helms), looking to convince Alan to agree to rehab. En route to the clinic, Alan and his Wolf Pack are attacked by crime lord Marshall (John Goodman), who kidnaps Doug as a bargaining chip while he sends the rest of the boys to track down recent prison escapee Mr. Chow (Ken Jeong). It turns out that Chow ripped off Marshall to the tune of $21 million, and now he wants to exact revenge on the cocaine-crazed Chinese gangster.

Part II was justly criticised for rehashing practically every narrative beat of its predecessor, and it seems Phillips took such criticisms to heart while embarking on this second sequel. Thus, Part III heads in a whole new direction, only retaining the conceit of Alan, Phil and Stu setting off together on a mission, thus smartly avoiding the blackout gimmick of the previous films. In fact, there's no hangover here at all, and only minimal drinking; the hangover of the title actually refers to the events of the original film, as Part III is intrinsically tied to the 2009 picture, bringing back a few characters and even delving further into the life of Black Doug (Mike Epps). It's fun to check in with a few returning characters, including the infamous baby from the original film who's now walking and talking. Black Doug, though, is pretty much betrayed to his very core here, going from an amusing presence to a nasty prick without appropriate motivation.

The Hangover was almost line-by-line hilarious, with belly laughs in every scene. The screenplay was genuinely witty, and Phillips and the actors only made it funnier. Part III fails to live up to this. The script (by Phillips and Part II writer Craig Mazin) makes things less fun and more callous. In fact, it's a needlessly dark movie that is only sporadically funny, focusing less on laughs and more on the adventure. I understand the need to do something different after Part II, but the execution is lacking; although it's skillfully assembled with first-rate technical specs, Phillips rarely overcomes the lacklustre script. The first film was a string of hilarious and memorable set pieces - Alan's speech on the rooftop, the scenes with the cops, Chow emerging from the boot - but Part III cannot compete. Although some moments work, others are less successful, including the sight of a chicken being smothered with a pillow, which is far less amusing than it sounds. Added to this, the pacing is a little awkward at times; it stops and starts, seldom maintaining much momentum.

Alan was Galifianakis' breakout role back in '09, as it was a genuinely iconic performance. Alan was dumb but endearing, and Galifianakis played the part to perfection, turning a potentially one-dimensional role into a brilliant comedic force and a surprisingly believable moron. Here, Alan is more of an arsehole than a charming idiot, and his stupidity often feels forced. One does not feel as inclined to hang out with this guy anymore, and that's a problem. Alongside him, Helms and Cooper still do not have a great deal to do beyond leaning on their usual shtick. They're still solid in their roles, but there's not much for them to chew on. Meanwhile, Bartha, as usual, has absolutely nothing to do. It's disappointing that he yet again spends most of the movie out of the picture; it would've been nice to see him actually join the Wolf Pack at long last. More successful, though, is the supporting cast. Jeong scores several laughs as Chow, while Goodman sinks his teeth into his antagonist role. But it's Melissa McCarthy who steals the film. McCarthy is only in a handful of scenes, but she gives the movie a spark of life, and her interplay with Galifianakis is outstanding. Less memorable, though, is Heather Graham, who returns for one scene simply to help with some exposition.

Like its immediate predecessor, The Hangover Part III works in pieces rather than as a whole. While it remains watchable and does some interesting things with the characters, it only occasionally displays the type of charm and creativity we saw in the original film. The Hangover now feels analogous to The Matrix; the first film was strong, earning insane box office receipts and unexpected critical praise, but the follow-ups feel unnecessary and disposable. Unfussy Hangover fans will still have some fun with Part III, but it isn't essential viewing for casual movie-goers. Oh, and stick around for an extra scene a few minutes into the credits.

6.3/10

"What if I made arrests for him?"

If you come to 2013's Snitch expecting a fun action fiesta that makes good use of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's brand of charisma and machismo, this picture will disappoint. The marketing is a tad misleading, as this is more of a father-son crime drama, more concerned with family dramatics than big pyrotechnics. It's a tempting offer, but the execution is lacklustre despite solid production values, with stuntman-turned-director Ric Roman Waugh unsuitable for outright drama while The Rock is ill-suited for the role of an Average Joe. Snitch actually opens with the "Based on a true story" caption, though we've grown to take such claims with a massive grain of salt.

Agreeing to receive a delivery of ecstasy, 18-year-old Jason (Rafi Gavron) is promptly arrested and sent to prison, awaiting sentencing that could result in the college-bound lad being locked up for a decade. Jason refuses to be a snitch to get his sentence reduced, so his estranged father, John (Johnson), cuts a deal with federal prosecutor Joanne Keegan (Susan Sarandon). If John goes undercover and aids in the arrest of a drug dealer, Jason will face less prison time. With the help of ex-con Daniel (The Walking Dead's Jon Bernthal), John finds himself becoming involved with local crime lord Malik (The Wire's Michael K. Williams). John proves his worth by transporting drugs, and impresses major drug kingpin El Topo (Benjamin Bratt). As the stakes continue to increase, DEA Agent Cooper (Barry Pepper) grows wary of the outcome.

Snitch wants to be a dense crime picture like The Departed but lacks the sophistication to make it soar. The story is painted in broad strokes of black and white, with the good guys all noble while the drug traffickers are pure cartoons. It should have grit and surprise, with this grimy, drug-fuelled world full of horrific details and devious players. Instead, Snitch is a simplified television movie. It also uses several familiar action movie clichés, with unrealistically streamlined politics (it ends too abruptly and easily) and preposterous moments (it turns out Everyman John is a great driver and a decent marksman who can outsmart drug cartels and the DEA). This type of stuff is fine and forgivable in action films since they're fun and are not meant to be taken seriously, but such tosh in an agenda-oriented drama is hard to swallow. Snitch is an action film without the mindless fun and a message movie without the depth.

Admittedly, the look of Snitch is commendable, portraying this unsavoury world with unrelenting grimness. But the cinematography is extremely poor, leaning too hard on irritating shaky-cam and camera placements far too close to the action. It honestly feels like the picture has been zoomed in after the fact at times, and the cameramen keep suffering epileptic fits even while filming small dialogue moments. More bothersome is the pursuit of a PG-13 rating, which detracts a crucial sense of threat and makes this world less gruesome than it should be. Snitch's plot required a tougher treatment to make it work. As it is, it's generic and bland. Still, some moments work, including a pretty impressive finale. The technical contributions are also solid for the most part, except for the nauseating camerawork.

By putting Johnson in a dramatic role, the filmmakers were not playing to the actor's strengths. He's a movie star and a distinguished screen presence rather than a nuanced performer, and he makes sense as a hulking mass of muscle who kicks ass and takes names. Here, he does exude a degree of charisma, and he seems committed enough to the material, but he's not believable, especially when a few street punks manage to beat him to the ground with zero effort. The rest of the cast is decent, though. Sarandon is particularly good due to how hammy she is, rendering her scenes some of the most entertaining in the picture.

As Waugh closes the film, he condemns the first-offence prison sentences in the United States but doesn't specify who we are supposed to be angry with. The laws? The policy makers? The federal prosecutors? The judges? The parents? Or the idiotic kid who decides to accept a massive bag of drugs in his mother's home and sign for the package using his real name? Snitch wants to deliver a profound message amid its dramatics, yet it doesn't possess the complexity to register as anything more than meaningless entertainment. And as meaningless entertainment, the film comes up short due to how solemn it is.

5.4/10

Lost in La Mancha is one of the most painful documentaries on the subject of filmmaking, yet it's also a brilliant and spellbinding examination of the motion picture process. The documentary concentrates on Terry Gilliam, a member of the Monty Python troupe who dabbles in directing and animation. Outside of his Python involvement, Gilliam directed such offbeat gems as Time Bandits, 12 Monkeys, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen and his masterpiece, Brazil. But the thing about Gilliam is that he's an artist and a perfectionist, and he's notorious for encountering troubles and setbacks while making his highly visionary auteur films. Directed by Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe, 2002's Lost in La Mancha is an intimate look at Gilliam's creative process on a doomed project.

For years, Gilliam dreamed of creating his own cinematic incarnation of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, and this documentary chronicles his attempt to finally achieve that vision. In the summer of 2000, Gilliam was ready to start shooting in Spain, but from the beginning, troubles were rampant, and there were echoes of Gilliam's troublesome endeavour to make The Adventures of Baron Munchausen back in the 1980s. He lands $32 million from European investors to budget The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, but that is only half of what a film of such scale would typically cost. Due to this, the production had to proceed without a hitch on meagre resources to make the film work. Unfortunately, it's a failure from the get-go, with troubled weather delaying shooting and the actors not arriving in time to accommodate proper rehearsals. The leading actor of the film, Jean Rochefort, suffers ailing health from the beginning, becoming so overwhelmed with pain that he can no longer ride a horse. Rochefort is hospitalised, and his absence is perpetually prolonged. Planes also fly overhead during the shooting of one scene, destroying the production audio and deafening the performers. It keeps getting worse and worse from there.

Fulton and Pepe intended to make a television documentary about the development and production of Gilliam's passion project, and in the process, they captured several turbulent events on camera. Hence, Lost in La Mancha is not a post-mortem dissection consisting mainly of interviews; instead, it's primarily fly-on-the-wall footage of production meetings, rehearsals, conversations between cast and crew, on-set activities, and, ultimately, behind-the-scenes havoc when the project degenerates into every director's worst nightmare. It's also interesting to see Johnny Depp here, completely candid and natural. Furthermore, Lost in La Mancha highlights the irony of the whole enterprise. You see, Don Quixote is a notoriously cursed character to bring to the screen. Even Orson Welles continually tried to make a Don Quixote movie over several decades, but the filmmaker failed to complete the project before his death.

Lost in La Mancha is a brutally honest documentary piece that takes us behind the curtain and gives us unparalleled insight into this condemned production. Having spent time on film sets, I can say that this represents the most candid depiction of the stresses and exhilarations of being on-set, even emphasising the importance of one of the greatest unsung heroes of the business: the first assistant director (in this case, Gilliam's right-hand man Phil Patterson). Lost in La Mancha refuses to sugar-coat anything - as a matter of fact, many moments are extremely confronting. We see Gilliam's temper flare constantly, and it's heart-wrenching to witness the frank conversations that lead to the conclusion to scrap the picture. We even get a penetrating shot of Gilliam looking over footage after production has shut down, his face affected by disappointment and depression. If there's anything to criticise about this documentary, it's the brisk length. Lost in La Mancha clocks in at around 90 minutes, which frankly seems too short. The ending, in particular, seems a tad rushed, and it feels like more could have been done.

What's remarkable about Lost in La Mancha is its ability to underscore exactly why filmmakers love what they do while conveying that film sets can be both mundane and frustrating. This is a fascinating and highly captivating documentary, leaving me curious about what Gilliam's movie might have looked like. We see snippets of the footage that was shot and glimpses of the costume and props department, not to mention storyboards and script pages. It looks as if this would've been another wildly creative and quirky Gilliam gem. (Gilliam would eventually make The Man Who Killed Don Quixote many years later but with a different cast.) For film buffs and Gilliam fans, Lost in La Mancha is a must-see.

8.3/10

"I'm starting to think this is the most spiritual place I've ever been."

Spring Breakers represents the exact type of audacious cinematic vision that we do not see enough of in the 21st Century. It's a uniquely breathtaking experience from director Harmony Korine, one of the finest movies you will see this year and undoubtedly the most polarising. The rather limp box office performance is unsurprising, as Spring Breakers will not appeal to all viewers. Some will hate the flick, perceiving it as a flashy gimmick since it features former Disney stars in risqué roles. Others will simply see it as empty, hedonistic exploitation, unable (or unwilling) to pierce the dense veneer of gaudy depravity on the surface to see the real film underneath. Korine's film is an uncompromising snapshot of our modern culture, capturing and even critiquing the allure of a modern spring break excursion while presenting an unpredictable story that veers into dark territory. It's a culture-defining film, and it almost defies explanation.

Bored out of their minds at college, friends Candy (Vanessa Hudgens), Cotty (Rachel Korine) and Brit (Ashley Benson) yearn to join the spring break festivities in Florida and hope to bring along their Christian classmate, Faith (Selena Gomez), for the ride. Lacking the necessary funds to travel, the girls rob a local chicken shop with water pistols and hammers to acquire cash, and soon, they're en route to Florida for the best week of their lives. The four ladies are eventually arrested for drug possession, but they're unexpectedly bailed out by drug-dealing thug Alien (James Franco), who aspires to become King of Florida. Alien takes the girls under his wing, seeking to make the young ladies part of his harem.

The narrative more or less plays out like an extended music video montage; Korine fills the screen with a kaleidoscope of colours and images, often disregarding coherency as scenes and events blur into one another. There is not much of an underlying plot here, and there's a certain aimlessness to the proceedings, yet Korine never lets the picture out of his control, refusing to let it transform into a meandering mess. The filmmaker has the good sense to keep Spring Breakers trim and tight, with the door closing at around the 90-minute mark before the assortment of hallucinatory visuals outstays its welcome. Indeed, there are very few dead spots throughout the feature, as it maintains its energy and continues to display heightened creativity. If a less dexterous director were in the driving seat, the film would grow tedious after the first five minutes.

Spring Breakers especially comes to life during the party sequences, when Korine's camera hypnotically swirls around to capture the dubstep-fuelled insanity of hot youths consuming alcohol and drugs. For a while, Korine provides a rowdy, context-free walking tour through the types of insane debauchery that run rampant during spring break, which is enthralling to watch. The technical specs are first-rate, with the energetic cinematography by Benoît Debie (shooting on 35mm film) and the propulsive score by Cliff Martinez and dubstep outfit Skrillex creating pure audio-visual poetry. When Alien arrives about 40 minutes into the show, Spring Breakers becomes darker and more frenetic as the wannabe rapper gives the girls access to the real party. At first, it looks as if Korine will travel down a clichéd route and eventually reveal Alien as a scheming, murderous predator, making the girls realise they should've listened to their mothers. But Spring Breakers is too intelligent for that, and what follows is wholly unexpected.

Franco abandons his usual slacker persona entirely here to disappear into the role of Alien, and it's a performance that will change people's overall impression of the actor. It's an astonishingly well-judged turn from Franco, the type that steals scenes and earns Oscars. Who knew Franco had such acting gusto within him? Spring Breakers has been especially provocative because it features former Disney Channel girls in grown-up roles. Indeed, we get to see Selena Gomez and Vanessa Hudgens in various stages of undress and intoxication. But their acting goes beyond the surface novelty of seeing formerly good girls acting bad; the ladies are fantastic here, delivering nuanced performances that feel completely unforced and demonstrate their ability to undertake mature roles. Ditto for Ashley Benson and Rachel Korine (the director's wife), who are every bit as brilliant as their co-stars. Korine's lavish images would've been null unless they were supported by strong actors; fortunately, his ensemble is up to the task of carrying the film.

Regardless of what you think of it, Spring Breakers will likely go down as one of 2013's most important and vital works, as it embodies the exact culture and moment in time when it was produced. The only reason I did not award the film a higher grade is due to how frank, brutal and repulsive it is. This is admittedly a strength since it pulls no punches, but there is not much replay value. That's about the only thing there is to say about Spring Breakers that's remotely negative. It's hard to predict any individual's reaction to this movie, but in my eyes, it's an immersive phantasmagoria that deserves to be seen by a wide audience.

8.2/10