Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"It was for your welfare that I made this visit, Ebenezer Scrooge..."

It's borderline impossible to make a bad movie out of Charles Dickens' 1843 novella A Christmas Carol. A bona fide classic which has been adapted countless times for films and television shows, Dickens' story is equipped with rich characters, an evocative setting, valuable messages and wonderful sentiment. Produced by MGM, 1938's A Christmas Carol was the first high-gloss, big-budget (for the period) cinematic treatment of the source material. Nimble and powerful, this adaptation was the definitive film version of Dickens' parable for over a decade. Though superior versions have been produced over the years, this A Christmas Carol remains an undisputed classic with plenty to recommend.

In the unlikely event that you've forgotten the story of A Christmas Carol, it concerns rich old coot Ebenezer Scrooge (Owen), who detests the notion of peace and goodwill. He especially hates Christmas, perceiving the jolly festive holiday as an unwanted hindrance to his business. Returning home on one Christmas Eve after sacking his long-suffering clerk Bob Cratchit (Lockhart), the ghost of Scrooge's former business partner Jacob Marley (Carroll) presents himself to Scrooge. Marley warns Scrooge that he must change his ways to redeem his soul, and explains that he will be visited by three spirits - the Ghost of Christmas Past (Rutherford), Christmas Present (Braham) and Christmas Future (Corrigan) - who aim to help Scrooge reform and persuade him away from a life of greed and ill temper.

Screenwriter Hugo Butler palpably understood that a rote cinematic adaptation of a literary source rarely works, and hence altered aspects of Dickens' novella to terrific effect. For instance, Scrooge's nephew Fred is given more dimension and presence, Cratchit is actually sacked by Scrooge on Christmas Eve, Scrooge alerts the police about Marley's ghostly presence, and the closing Christmas Day festivities are a little different. Such additions and alterations give the picture its own unique voice, and, more importantly, they allow the film to stand apart from the dozens of other adaptations that have been produced in the decades since this version. However, a few key elements are excluded entirely to detrimental effect, such as Scrooge's former fiancée and old Fezziwig's party. As a result, this Christmas Carol feels underdone. Clocking in at a slim 69 minutes, the film rushes through the material, seldom allowing sufficient dramatic growth and consequently making Scrooge's arc feel unearned. Indeed, Scrooge begins repenting too soon, abandoning his miserly ways almost immediately without sufficient motivation. The picture lacks a key scene which clearly affects Scrooge in a substantial way.

A critical aspect of any adaptation of A Christmas Carol is its atmosphere and mood. Luckily, this version for the most part gets these characteristics right. Director Edwin L. Marin and his team did a remarkable job of recreating bustling 19th Century London. Production design is laudable, with storefronts and streets that look entirely convincing, supplemented with Yuletide decorations and crowds of laughing children and merry onlookers. However, while Marin nails the jolly Christmas atmosphere, he unfortunately downplays the spookiness of the film's ghostly elements. Scenes featuring the spirits contain a few still-impressive special effects shots, but it's clear that Marin was catering to family audiences, particularly during scenes featuring the ostensibly foreboding Ghost of Christmas Future which are decidedly tame.

This A Christmas Carol was actually conceived for actor Lionel Barrymore, who had played Scrooge in a popular annual radio broadcast and was hired to recreate the role on film. However, the actor began to suffer major health problems, compelling him to bow out of the picture a few weeks before filming. To replace him, the actor suggested his friend Reginald Owen, and the rest is history. Although he's not the best Scrooge, Owen's performance is commendable; he looks the part, he's appropriately menacing in the film's early stages, and his performance at no point feels contrived. Meanwhile, Barry Mackay is a delightful Fred, playing the role as an irresistibly happy chap with a fiancée who enjoys sliding on ice and playing in the snow like a schoolboy. Since Fred has a heightened presence here, it's a huge benefit that Mackay is so charismatic. Almost stealing the show, though, are Gene Lockhart as Bob Cratchit, and Gene's real-life wife Kathleen as Mrs. Cratchit. The two supply warmth and Christmas cheer, and remain eminently watchable. To top things off, their daughter June plays one of the Cratchit children. The only real weak link is Terry Kilburn as Tiny Tim. At 12, Kilburn looks too old for the role, not to mention he's strangely effeminate. Worst of all, he doesn't look sick or dying; he makes Tim look like a kid who just broke his leg.

Despite its shortcomings, 1938's A Christmas Carol is a solid versions of this classic Yuletide morality tale. For a '30s movie it's surprisingly accessible, and there's little wonder why so many people have ingratiated this picture into their annual Christmastime traditions.

7.6/10

"Everybody thinks I'm suicidal, in which case, I'm fucked and nobody wants to work with me; or they think I'm faking to draw a psycho pension, in which case, I'm fucked and nobody wants to work with me. Basically, I'm fucked."

Die Hard consistently ranks highly on lists of favourite "alternative" Christmas films (and Christmas movies in general), but it's not the only Yuletide-themed action movie that deserves your attention. Directed by Richard Donner (Superman: The Movie, The Omen) and released in 1987, Lethal Weapon is a bona fide '80s action gem, a skilfully mounted buddy cop action-adventure laced with razor-sharp dialogue, memorable characters and entertaining bursts of R-rated action. Lethal Weapon may not have invented or revolutionised the buddy cop or action-comedy genres, but it refined both of them - it shows that execution is more important, and well-worn genre formulas can still work in the right hands. Moreover, on top of being a remarkable late '80s action picture, the film introduces a pair of memorable central characters.

A veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department, Sergeant Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover) begins eying retirement as he draws closer to celebrating his 50th birthday. When a sexy model is found dead after an apparent suicide from jumping off her apartment balcony, Murtaugh is pulled into the case and partnered with loose canon Martin Riggs (Mel Gibson) to investigate. Owing to the untimely death of his wife, Riggs is a suicidal hothead; half the police force thinks Riggs is crazy, while the other half believes he's trying to earn a psycho pension. Developing a hesitant friendship, the two find themselves tracking a pair of dangerous drug smugglers, and the "suicide" turns out to be a murder case that's far more complicated than initially imagined.

Donner and screenwriter Shane Black (The Last Boy Scout, The Long Kiss Goodnight) clearly know their audience, as Lethal Weapon caters to the action crowd in a tremendously satisfying fashion. In the very first scene, the film provides a smattering of drugs, boobs and violence. It's one hell of a way to set the tone, and the rest of the picture easily lives up to this promise. Undoubtedly, the film works as well as it does thanks in large part to Black's screenplay. Black's contributions are often overlooked since the production is practically faultless from top to bottom, but the excellence of this script cannot be overstated. The dialogue is consistently engaging and witty, and Black mixes the humour and action with tender character development and moments of pathos. It also indulges in the writer's love of Christmas, which is evident in many of his films. While the still-good but inferior Lethal Weapon sequels primarily rely on set-pieces and are driven by their respective cop cases, this first instalment is driven by the personal journeys of these characters, affording depth and humanity to what could've just been an enjoyable but forgettable distraction. It goes without saying that the narrative is standard-order, but the execution is remarkable, and that's what truly matters.

Fortunately, for all of its character dramatics, Lethal Weapon does not skimp on the pyrotechnics. Ever the blockbuster veteran, Donner orchestrates a string of magnificent action set-pieces and conflicts scattered throughout the narrative, embracing the possibilities of the picture's R rating. Action was arguably at its pinnacle during the 1980s, and Lethal Weapon is a solid reinforcement of this opinion, with its fluid camerawork and crisp editing easily surpassing many of today's big-budget pretenders. However, the film does have its dumb moments. In the final sequence, for example, Riggs decides not to simply arrest the bad guy but have a punch-up with him instead while dozens of police officers stand around watching. It's an entertaining fight, to be sure, but the foundation is a bit shaky, and it feels like the only time in the film that action is being forced. For the record, the extended director's cut is this reviewer's preferred version. Some may find it too long, but the additional scenes deserve a place in the picture, providing extra action, a few extra laughs, and added character depth.

While Lethal Weapon is vehemently a buddy movie, it's very much Mel Gibson's party. Back in 1987, Mel was a rising star adored by the industry and by audiences, and it's easy to see why: he's a fantastic actor. Martin Riggs's introductory scene alone features some of the finest moments in Gibson's career. The star's intensity is extraordinary, and he balances depression with superb comic timing and edgy energy. His emotional outbursts are unexpectedly powerful, as well. One pivotal scene depicts Riggs contemplating suicide, sobbing as he sticks a gun into his mouth before realising that he can't do it. Gibson's acting in this scene is riveting, showing how much this guy genuinely deserves an Oscar for his acting skills. Likewise, Glover could have turned Roger Murtaugh into a one-note bore, but the actor creates a complex, devoted family man, and he matches Gibson step-for-step. The chemistry between Glover and Gibson is absolutely killer - it's hard to think of any male/female relationships in romantic comedies that click as brilliantly as these two. Watching Glover and Gibson trade witty banter is an absolute pleasure. Lethal Weapon also benefits from including Gary Busey as Mr. Joshua, the main villain's henchman. Busey is a fine actor who's as entertaining on the screen as he is off-camera, and he makes for a top-notch bad guy.

Like most action franchises, the Lethal Weapon series is somewhat tarnished by its sequels. Although the sequels are entertaining enough, four movies is pushing it. As the series progressed, things became more action-oriented, and the tone veered more into the comedic realm. On the other hand, this first film nails the mix of action and comedy, with Donner shifting between the two tonal extremes with utmost dexterity. The film is a godsend for action fans, but more casual movie fans will also find a lot to like due to how thoroughly enjoyable it is. And I don't know about you, but I'll always be watching this one come Christmas Eve.

9.2/10

"We are standing on the biggest burial mountain in the world..."

Over the years, filmmakers have inundated us with movies depicting Santa Claus as a jolly old fat man who delivers presents to all the boys and girls around the world. However, 2010's contentedly macabre Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale proposes that this fictionalised "Coca-Cola Santa" was invented to cover up who Santa really was: a horrifying, horned half-man/half-beast. A sort of Finnish-made Gremlins for the 21st Century, this tremendously peculiar horror/fantasy/dark comedy presents an entirely original take on the Christmas mythos, representing the perfect antithesis to the type of traditional holiday films to which we have become accustomed (and have grown sick of). Even if the picture only scratches the surface of its marvellous central premise, Rare Exports is destined to become an annual Yuletide staple for several households.

Single father Rauno Kontio (Jorma Tommila) lives in the shadow of the Korvatunturi Mountains in Finland with his son Pietari (Onni Tommila), and relies on the yearly migration of the reindeer for food and money. When a clandestine American-led dig commences in the mountains, strange things begin to occur - an entire reindeer herd is found slaughtered, radiators are stolen, and kids go missing. Frightened yet curious, Pietari sets out to conduct research, and uncovers the origins of the real Santa Claus who may have been awakened from his icy tomb by the American excavators. It isn't long before a bizarre old man is caught in Rauno's wolf trap who fits the description of Santa. With Christmas rapidly approaching, Pietari is horrified about what's to come.

Rare Exports contains very few typical Christmas movie customs. There's no holiday music or gift giving here, as writer-director Jalmari Helander sought to portray a more unsentimental version of the festive season, and he takes the idea of a malevolent Santa Claus rather seriously. It would've been easy for Helander to have created either a straight comedy or a run-of-the-mill slasher flick out of this silly premise, but Helander instead treats the premise as reality, making it easy to get immersed in this frightening fantasy. Rare Exports is somewhat moronic, but Helander plays everything with a brilliant poker face, incorporating pathos, character development, genuine stakes, and even a few scenes of impressive spectacle. It's an odd cocktail but it works, yielding a terrifically alternative Christmas flick that's more Brothers Grimm than Rankin-Bass which criss-crosses genres with utmost elegance.

The flick is based on two popular short films from 2003 and 2005 which were written and directed by Helander. Expanding a short to feature-length is a tricky proposition, hence Rare Exports runs a mere 80 minutes, with Helander working to ensure the picture doesn't outstay its welcome. The film still feels a tad stretched out from time to time, but sluggish patches are thankfully few and far between. Rare Exports was produced for a rather small sum, yet it never looks cheap and it excels in terms of visuals and atmosphere. Director of photography Mika Orasmaa is a huge asset - his cinematography is skilfully dark and moody, giving genuine majesty to the expansive Finnish snow-scapes. Towards the end of the film, though, a revelation hints that things are about to skyrocket to an entirely new level, but Helander seems to baulk. It ultimately feels like a tease, closing the picture on somewhat of a damp squib. Ditto for the elves, who don't entirely fulfil their potential. It would seem that the budget likely prevented certain things from transpiring, which is a shame.

Quality child actors are rare, but Onni Tommila is a terrific little performer, perfect for the role of Pietari. Onni ably balances fear and determination, and he always seems 100% committed to the material, no matter how outlandish it is. He's a solid entry point into the film for viewers. The best relationship in the film is between Pietari and his father, played by Onni's real-life dad Jorma Tommila. Jorma exhibits a strong mixture of fatherly warmth and stern frustration, and his interactions with Onni carry a warm, believable edge. Also great is Rauno Juvonen, who oozes cool and whimsical charm as Piiparinen.

Though the climax feels a tad underdone, Rare Exports closes on a high note, with a satirical (and cynical) commentary on the global commercialism of Christmas. Fortunately, Helander refuses to sell out with a treacly-laden conclusion; instead, the flick is dark right through to its ending. Rare Exports is not perfect, but it's exceptionally audacious, with a story balancing warmth, horror and deadpan dark humour, making it well worth your time if you're sick of heart-warming Christmas cheer. Without a doubt, Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale will not work for everyone, but it comes highly recommended for anyone seeking to watch a truly unique and offbeat movie destined to become a cult classic.

7.3/10

"People just do the strangest things when they believe they're entitled. But they do even stranger things when they just plain believe."

Following a career of profane comedies and light-hearted relationship dramas, Kevin Smith moves into darker territory with 2011's Red State. A jarring mishmash of horror and action supplemented with satire, the film is morally repugnant and unbelievably incoherent, ushering in a different side of Smith that I hope to never see again. Critics often describe films as being "schizophrenic," but the term is overused and now comes off as pretentious. Red State, though, undoubtedly earns the label: it's schizophrenic to extremes. In a notorious move, Smith fostered a lot of interest in the film by purchasing the distribution rights himself and screening the film during a multi-city tour which also included Q&A sessions and memorabilia auctions. Indeed, Red State developed into more of an event than just a film. Unfortunately, however, the finished product is stunningly underwhelming, to the extent that it feels like a bad joke on the part of Smith.

In the South, three randy teenage boys - Jarod (Gallner), Travis (Angarano) and Billy-Ray (Braun) - begin using the internet to find easy sex, and organise to hook up with a mysterious woman (Leo) who lives near their hometown. What the boys fail to realise, though, is that they are being set up by a controversial group of extreme fundamentalists who detest homosexuals. Presided over by the psychotic sermon-spouting patriarch Abin Cooper (Parks), the boys are drugged and bound, with the pastor looking to ritualistically murder them all before his congregation. However, a group of ATF agents led by Joseph Keenan (Goodman) arrive at Cooper's compound with orders to move in and slaughter everyone inside.

Why exactly were these young teenagers chosen for ritual execution? Blown if I know. The church are vehemently anti-homosexual, yet they want to kill a bunch of kids who were attracted to the notion of pussy? It's mildly suggested that the church abhors sexual deviancy, but the film fails to touch upon this notion in any considerable fashion, and there's absolutely no motivation. Not to think too deeply into Smith's thinking, but it sets off alarm bells that the writer-director refused to insert gay protagonists into this story about a church of homophobes.

It's clear that Smith's primary objective with Red State was satire, but his ambitions far outweigh his abilities. The film initially sets its sights on religious fundamentalists who fool themselves into believing that they can commit unspeakable acts in the lord's name. To Smith's credit, the religious satire is actually spot-on, with Smith staging a number of nail-bitingly tense and frightening sequences. But Smith soon progresses the story into, well, another movie entirely. Suddenly, Red State dissolves into a mindless action flick which is so tonally schizophrenic that you may get whiplash. Smith's satiric target becomes the American government, reinforcing the tired message that Americans are terrible at handling terrorist situations. But whereas the religious satire was mature and effective, the governmental material relies on outright slapstick, dumb theatrics and predictable throwaway lines, as if a teenager wrote it. It feels like two separate people wrote the two halves of the film, and Smith just jammed them together with no thought towards thematic or narrative coherence. Consequently, Red State is a jumbled mess of ideas. Smith wanted to do too much within the film's scant 85-minute runtime that none of the satire ultimately leads anywhere, and the film fails as both an action picture and a horror movie.

As the picture begins to wind down, a late twist suggests that all hell is about to break loose and the production is about to take on an entire new meaning that could've transformed it from audacious dud to minor miracle. But alas, it was not to be. Smith just cuts away at random, and the rest of the movie comprises of Agent Keenan explaining the boring specifics of how the skirmish ended. The twist itself, meanwhile, just becomes a punchline for a dumb joke. It's deflating, but all the more infuriating if one reads Smith's description of the ballsy original ending. The final scene here is completely unnecessary and exceedingly pedestrian, with the characters spelling out every thought and message in Red State's cinematic body. It's the equivalent of having an 8-year-old boy yell straight into your ear with a megaphone. Furthermore, Smith clearly takes issue with abuse of government power to silence potential terrorists. But Cooper's church are terrorists; they stockpile guns, they kill on a whim, and they're morally damaged. This confuses the movie's entire concluding point. What the fuck?

Smith often excels as a writer (though this is not demonstrated here), but he's a mediocre director. 2010's Cop Out emphasised how incompetent Smith's filmmaking is, and Red State is equally disheartening. A lot of the editing is much too harsh, which botches the tempo of several scenes, while director of photography David Klein heavily leans on predictable visual tactics like shaky-cam and body-mounted cameras to poor effect. There's also a tremendous problem with the climactic shootout: there's no rhythm. All Smith does is stage a lot of minor character dialogue moments set to non-diegetic gun-firing sounds, and every few minutes we get a customary shot of a few people firing their guns for which they seem to have unlimited ammunition. It diminishes the sense of immediacy, because people only seem to get shot every 5 minutes or so, and there seems to just be a lot of mindless shooting without casualties. As a result, the whole enterprise grows mind-numbingly tedious, and the actual shootout itself becomes too much of a fringe threat.

At the very least, Smith assembled one hell of a cast here. In particular, Michael Parks delivers a stunning performance as Pastor Abin. If Parks knew that Red State was bad, he doesn't show it; he truly went for broke, and he's easily the film's most valuable asset. However, Smith seems too enamoured with Parks to discipline his performance, resulting in sermons that drag on forever. Yes, I know that Smith had a lot to say, but brevity is appreciated. John Goodman, meanwhile, is predictably good as Agent Keenan, and the trio of boys playing the teens all did a great job. Special mention must be made of Kerry Bishé, who will probably be forever known as the one who destroyed Scrubs after having become the new protagonist in the show's dismal final season. Here, Bishé shows genuinely impressive acting chops as Cheyenne, one of the only adults in Cooper's church with something resembling a moral compass.

I'll credit Red State with one thing: it's wildly unpredictable, and it has its moments. Whatever fans of the movie which exist will probably proclaim that it's entertaining because it's uniquely crazy, but that entirely comes down to opinion. For me, the picture may work in pieces but it fails to gel as a whole. Smith tried to pack the film with historical and societal relevance, yet the filmmaker stumbles to do anything substantial with his ideas, merely staging brainless shootouts and tediously extended monologues. It seems Smith simply made things up as he goes along, hoping that heightened shock value and repulsive acts will add up to something laudable. In the end, Red State is exceedingly superficial; it's all about gimmicks rather than genuine substance.

3.8/10

"My mama used to always say, 'Christmas ain't Christmas till somebody cries!' Usually that someone's me."

Ah, the oft-exploited Christmas television special, one of the most obvious and whore-ish business moves in the industry. Every year, networks and studios clamber to get their foot in the game, with scores of holiday specials tossed at the wall and with only a select amount ultimately sticking. There's a lot at stake in this game: create a genuine hit and you will become a holiday tradition for decades, but fail to deliver and all your hard work will seldom be seen again. In 2007, Shrek was a hugely profitable brand, with its third instalment having amassed gargantuan figures at the box office. Thus, Shrek the Halls was created to cash in on attention-depraved, oblivious kids and their parents' income. The resultant 20-minute special is not dreadful by any means, but it's plagued with a strong stench of commercialism. It's doubtful that anyone put a great deal of effort into the flick outside of the animators.

Christmastime is approaching in the proverbial swamp, and Donkey (Murphy) is overjoyed by the impending festive season. Shrek (Myers), on the other hand, is less enthusiastic, choosing to ignore the holiday altogether. But when Shrek learns that Princess Fiona (Diaz) wants a big, happy family Christmas, the bumbling ogre hastily sets out to organise something significant for his wife and babies, assisted by a "Christmas for Village Idiots" guide. Of course, Donkey interjects, bringing with him an array of characters from Far, Far Away. All Shrek wants is the perfect Christmas with his small family, but he's confronted with raucous hijinks and outright chaos. Twenty minutes pass and everyone learns a lesson, while DreamWorks Animation head Jeffrey Katzenberg swims in a giant pool of money.

In other words, Shrek the Halls presents a clichéd narrative constructed around the clichéd "family is what you make it" theme. Moreover, it brings back the recurring Shrek series theme of "what does it all mean?", only within new wrapping. Seriously, how many times has this plot being committed to film?! Plus, Shrek the Halls closes with the real Santa Claus flying past the main characters, who are all happy and dandy after working out their differences. Is there any originality left in the Christmas special subgenre anymore? To the credit of the picture, though, this doesn't feel like a nasty bargain-basement version of Shrek assembled by mercenary animators to fill a TV slot. See, the problem with Shrek the Halls is predominantly the timeslot. The Shrek movies have 90 minutes to work through comedy and character development, and progress through a satisfying three-act structure. But here, the makers had all of 20 minutes, leaving them to shove at least an hour of content into a bite-sized chunk. While it may seem ostensibly good to cut out the flab, it leaves no room to breathe. As a result, there's no rhythm, and that's a death knell in comedy. Shrek the Halls should have been an hour-long special.

Fortunately, the franchise's major voice actors are present and accounted for, and no cheap substitutes were utilised. A few supporting characters were left out, but the big four - Mike Myers, Eddie Murphy, Cameron Diaz and Antonio Banderas - are all here voicing the roles they're recognised for, plus we have Conrad Vernon as the Gingerbread Man and Aron Warner as the Wolf. The sense of continuity allows Shrek the Halls to feel like more than just a cheap spin-off. Production values also remain good, with vibrant animation living up to the standards set in the feature films. Granted, too, this special often remains watchable and contains a few nice moments of amusement. In particular, the Gingerbread Man's version of "The Night Before Christmas" is pure gold, reworking the story to involve Santa reimagined as a giant terror who stalks candy folk as if they were teens in some cheesy monster movie. Outside of this, though, Shrek the Halls mainly relies on Donkey prancing around leaning on his usual shtick. This stuff is hit-and-miss.

As a cynical adult, this reviewer can easily see Shrek the Halls for what it is: a shameless way to cash in on the popularity of Shrek, as well as a marketing ploy since it originally aired around the time that Shrek the Third reached home video. DreamWorks merely had to situate these characters in a Christmas-themed plot, quality be damned. After all, it's the brand name that will allure young kids, who will be delighted to see Shrek and his friends again, and will be all the more overjoyed to see them doing something to which they can relate. Children will probably watch Shrek the Halls on a loop around the holiday season (my little cousin, a gargantuan Shrek fanatic, found it enrapturing), but adults will be less inclined to share it with their youngsters.

5.2/10

"Although I am but one man, I have thousands of brothers and sisters who are the same as me. They will lay down their lives for me and I them. We stand watch together. The thin-blue-line, protecting the prey from the predators, the good from the bad. We are the police."

End of Watch was written and directed by David Ayer, who has spent his entire filmmaking career exhibiting a keen interest in exploring the inner workings of the Los Angeles police department. In the past, Ayer wrote such films as SWAT, Training Day and Dark Blue, and directed Street Kings and Harsh Times. However, End of Watch is arguably Ayer's greatest achievement to date. Using the popular found footage aesthetic, the film provides a realistic, gritty portrayal of both the danger and tedium of police work.

Brian Taylor (Gyllenhaal) and Mike Zavala (Peña) are LAPD officers who have developed a tight bond during their time as partners, spending their days thwarting the efforts of criminals and doing the daily rounds while keeping themselves entertained and sharing details of their lives. For a school film project, Brian begins using camcorders and hidden spy cams to capture their day-to-day exploits. However, during a routine assignment, the two officers uncover a human trafficking ring managed by a Mexican drug cartel. Though the Feds warn Brian and Mike about what they have gotten themselves into, the curious pair can't resist delving further into the case. As a result, they become targeted by the malicious Mexican gang, who are determined to make the pair pay a steep price for putting their noses where they don't belong.

The cartel stuff is more of a fringe conflict than anything else - End of Watch progresses without much of a plot, providing a slice-of-life portrayal as we ride along with Brian and Mike. On top of this, the film probes the personal lives of the officers, with Mike expecting a child while nursing a relationship with his wife (Martinez), and with Brian becoming involved with the sweet Janet (Kendrick). Such material heightens the picture's scope, giving the characters further depth and raising the stakes.

Unlike such films as Paranormal Activity or Cloverfield, the found footage approach does not overwhelm the production. End of Watch is not entirely comprised of footage shot by the characters - rather, the "real" footage is used as an enhancement tool, supplementing the traditional camerawork to add a nice degree of authenticity. This allows us to get insight into events and tender character moments we would otherwise have learned about via impersonal captions. Truth is, the found footage gimmick only rarely works in a genuinely satisfying manner, and the familiar style is outright boring and too predictable at this point. Hence, a new spin is appreciated. On the other hand, though, the divide between Brian's footage and the traditional film stuff is blurred, and you will often be left wondering whether you're watching one or the other. It would have been more effective if the found footage looked like consumer camcorder footage, while the rest of the material carried a slicker polish.

End of Watch's most valuable assets, easily, are Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña, who are superb as Brian and Mike. Stripped of theatrics, the two feel credible and unforced, and share a camaraderie that seems remarkably organic. It's still hard to shake the thought that these guys are recognisable Hollywood performers, but the duo do their best to sell the illusion. Even the supporting players are remarkable here. Anna Kendrick is down-to-earth and endearing as Brian's love interest, while Natalie Martinez makes the most of her role as Mike's wife. Most impressive, though, is Frank Grillo as the Sarge. Funny and natural, Grillo seems like the type of blue-collar worker you'd encounter in a police station. The interplay between all of the characters is spot-on. It feels like we're watching real footage of family and friends who've known each other for years, which bolters the comedy and the drama.

Ultimately, End of Watch is a celebration of the brotherhood which exists between the men and women in blue. Police officers are fundamentally a dysfunctional family who joke around and support one another as a way to cope with this cruel, unforgiving world of frightening criminals. The film has received flack for its final outcome, but this reviewer was left moved, devastated and satisfied. A deus ex machina works extremely well in the very last scene (bear in mind, people can survive a lot of gunshot wounds as long as they promptly receive proper medical assistance), and the picture closes with a comedic outtake that reinforces the camaraderie between the central characters and heightens the sense of tragedy.

David Ayer does not exactly tell us anything new about police work with End of Watch, but that's not the point. The found footage perspective gives the flick a realistic slant, allowing us to see the world through the eyes of the officers who endure scary situations on a consistent basis. The climax, in which Brian and Mike are alone with just their side-arms and instincts in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by hostiles, is petrifying and unnervingly visceral, far more intense than anything glimpsed in the latest Paranormal Activity film. Thus, while there are better cop movies out there, End of Watch is one of a select number which truly conveys how harrowing it is to be a policeman.

8.2/10

"We'd love to help you take those letters to Santa."

Before the Muppets received a glorious theatrical resurrection in 2011, the beloved felt characters were left to languish in the doldrums for a long time, featuring in below-par television movies and specials that tested the true patience of Muppet fans. A Muppets Christmas: Letters to Santa, an hour-long holiday special which aired on ABC in late 2008, is frankly tragic to watch. Watered down, flat and far too corny, the movie is a trembling step down from both The Muppet Christmas Carol and the unexpectedly enjoyable It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas. It has its moments, but the enterprise is aimed squarely at young kids, and fails to do much to keep anyone else interested. Gone is the wit and genuine heart of the early Muppet pictures, and in its place is syrupy, vanilla formula.

It's Christmas Eve, and the Muppet troupe - including Kermit (Whitmire), Miss Piggy (Jacobson), Fozzie Bear (also Jacobson), Rizzo (Whitmire again) and Gonzo (Goelz) - are at the post office to finish their errands before jetting off to their respective holiday destinations. Gonzo gets a little too curious inside the post office, though, sparking outright mayhem, and he ends up forgetting to mail a handful of Santa letters. Determined to get them to the jolly fat man before it's too late, Gonzo persuades the Muppet crew to travel to the North Pole and personally deliver the letters to Santa. Unsurprisingly, the journey is fraught with mishaps, the troupe get mixed up in an array of hijinks, they encounter a variety of B-list celebrities, and everyone learns the true meaning of Christmas. How trite and obvious can you get?

Kirk Thatcher was a smart choice to take charge of the production, as his first Muppet outing was the surprisingly strong It's A Very Merry Muppet Christmas. Alas, the magic and charm of that special is unaccounted for here; this picture's look reeks of its TV origins, with lifeless production design and drab photography. The location shots in New York City are impressive, but the interior sets and all the North Pole stuff makes the film look like a sitcom. The "kiddie" vibe pervading Letters to Santa is its worst sin. Yes, the Muppets is for kids, but they should not pander to kids. Muppet movies are often played with a degree of straightness to give the adults something to latch onto, but this special is full of winking gags and self-consciously funny moments, closer to Sesame Street than The Muppet Movie. Most of the performers (notoriously Nathan Lane) seem in on the joke and look to be enjoying themselves too much, which is exactly why the film doesn't work. The Muppet performers are good enough here, but they seem positively lost with this disappointing script, left to deliver flat jokes for the sake of collecting a paycheque.

Catchy original songs are a staple of Muppet movies, but Letters to Santa hopelessly fails on this front. Despite the input of Muppet musical veteran Paul Williams, the songs here are mediocre at best, unbearably mushy at worst. Not to mention, the Muppets' satiric legacy is lost here, and the movie lacks any type of moral conflict. Admittedly, Letters to Santa does pick up for its finale. The sentimentality is initially too much to bear, but things ultimately get better, reinforcing the Christmas spirit and providing a handful of nice moments. Although it still feels like a sitcom, it's enjoyable enough, and may leave you with a nice fuzzy feeling inside. However, the special closes with an unnecessarily prolonged 10-minute end credit reel, beginning with outtakes before proceeding onto a music video, followed by more outtakes. Evidently the makers wanted to close the door with a smile, but to this extent is overkill. Save this stuff for the DVD extras, please.

All in all, it's hard to walk away satisfied with A Muppets Christmas: Letters to Santa. Young kids may enjoy the film, but long-time Muppet fans will be bored and disillusioned. Even the roster of guest stars is disappointing; New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg is useless since kids won't even know who he is (and international folks will be left in the dark), Uma Thurman gratingly overacts, Nathan Lane seems to have forgotten how to sell a joke, and the film fails to take advantage of Jane Krakowski's comedic potential. The obnoxiously kid-friendly vibe of Letters to Santa cements it as an ardently worthless entry in the Muppet canon, and it's impossible to recommend this one to Muppet fans, who will likely wind up heartbroken.

4.8/10

"It is our job to protect the children of the world. For as long as they believe in us, we will guard them with our lives..."

Movie-goers have understandably grown weary of holiday-themed motion pictures released during the lead-up to Christmas, a time when studios believe that audiences are in the mood for cheap and nasty festive distractions aimed at the lowest common denominator. Rise of the Guardians, however, is a completely different beast, as indicated by the fact that it's executive produced by Guillermo del Toro. Based on the Guardians of Childhood book series by William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians boasts a premise bound to make every screenwriter in Hollywood wonder how they didn't think of it first: uniting holiday icons and childhood folklore figures for an Avengers-style team-up movie. The resultant picture is a magnificent fantasy experience permeated with imagination which reworks familiar icons in a satisfying fashion. It carries a harder edge than expected, yet it's entirely suitable for children, with its adventurous plot giving rise to excitement aplenty. The flick could have been a numbing kiddie fare, but it's much more audacious.

Rise of the Guardians posits that - in addition to carrying out their respective duties - Santa Claus (Baldwin), the Easter Bunny (Jackman), the Tooth Fairy (Fisher), and sleeping agent the Sandman comprise an elite team of magical warriors who work together to battle the forces of evil who threaten the innocence of the world's children. The all-powerful moon presides over the team of esteemed Guardians, and brings suitable threats to their attention. The Guardians' arch nemesis, boogieman Pitch Black (Law), re-emerges from the darkness, seeking the chance to thwart all the goodness in the world and claim power over the minds of children across the globe. To stop Pitch's devious plan, Jack Frost (Pine) is extended an invitation to join the group. A loner with no knowledge about his past who has developed into a flippant troublemaker, Frost is hesitant to join the Guardians, but agrees to help overthrow Pitch when he learns that the boogieman may hold the key to his missing identity. As war wages between the forces of good and evil, and as children's belief in the mystical icons begins to fluctuate, the Guardians come into contact with a young boy named Jamie (Goyo), who unwaveringly believes in them and whose faith helps to fuel the team's endeavours.

The title of Rise of the Guardians is actually a tad misleading (not to mention hopelessly generic), as the Guardians rose to prominence long before this story takes place. A lot of the film's whimsical charm is derived from the marvellous re-imaginings of these fantastical icons: Santa (known as North here) is portrayed as a muscled Russian behemoth with "Naughty" and "Nice" tattooed on his forearms; the Easter Bunny is a badass Aussie warrior with a boomerang; the Tooth Fairy a hummingbird-esque nymph; Jack Frost is a slacker teen; and the Sandman is a quirky mute who communicates via objects he manufactures in gold sand above his head. The dynamics between the group are remarkable, with the screenwriters manufacturing in-jokes and bestowing each team member with quirks and personalities, not to mention each of them possess an inherent competitive streak that's most notably glimpsed in a side-splitting montage of the team taking care of a night of tooth collecting. If there's a disappointment in terms of the characters, it's Pitch, who looks like some type of generic emo rather than a sinister entity. Granted, Pitch had to be kid-friendly, but look at The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Amid the group dynamics, the picture required a strong central anchor. Jack Frost fulfils this need; he represents an emotional entry point for the audience, with the film essentially providing Jack's origin tale. As he has no memory of his life predating his turn towards immortality, Jack yearns to find his centre and understand where he came from. It's a formulaic concept, to be sure, but it bestows the picture with humanity, and everything gels thanks to the smart script by Pulitzer Prize winner David Lindsay-Abaire. Moreover, Rise of the Guardians does a wonderful job with its mythology - the film makes it clear that the existence of these fantastical figures is reliant on children around the world believing in them. It's a solid idea, and the reinforcement of the film's central message is far more successful than Robert Zemeckis' drab misfire The Polar Express. Guardians eventually culminates with a marvellous finale that will warm your heart and leave you smiling, all without resorting to cheap manipulation or opting for the lazy way out.

Guillermo del Toro's influence is all over the visual design of the feature. Guardians looks positively gorgeous, and each frame bursts with colourful imagination. The flick features unique character designs, a selection of vibrant backgrounds, and lively photography thanks to the input of famed cinematographer Roger Deakins. The film is packed with awe-inspiring moments of whimsy and several breathtaking flights of fancy, not to mention visual humour courtesy of Santa's amusing minions. Whenever the movie cuts loose with action, the results are spectacular, displaying heightened creativity in its depiction of the protagonists' combat abilities. Who knew the Sandman was the one you really don't want to mess with?

Vocal performances are spot-on right across the board, with each actor injecting their role with an agreeable personality. Hugh Jackman is perhaps the best, giving the Easter Bunny a very funny Aussie twang. Jude Law is the most instantly recognisable performer here, and he's great as Pitch, belying the character's weak design by making him dark, mysterious and even charismatic. As Jack Frost, Chris Pine is a solid leading man, boyishly charming and believable as a devil-may-care slacker. Meanwhile, Alec Baldwin is a good fit for North. His Russian accent is just believable enough, and the esteemed performer additionally gives the role a degree of welcome gravitas. Rounding out the main players is Isla Fisher, who makes for an adorable Tooth Fairy.

From start to finish, Rise of the Guardians is absolutely wonderful, a superlative fantasy adventure packed with action, a terrific sense of humour and extravagant animated imagination. The best family movies are those which appeal to varying demographics, and this picture succeeds in that regard. Kids will adore the fast pace and the eye candy, teens will have a blast due to all the action and comedy, and adults will appreciate the film's depth and originality. Sure, it would've been nice to find out more about the other Guardians, and the film doesn't supplement the spectacle with much emotion, but it feels mean-spirited to point out the minor foibles of this otherwise extraordinary effort, especially in a market dominated by the likes of Ice Age 4 and The Smurfs. It's a shame the movie was not better rewarded at the box office, as I'd love to see the Guardians return for duty again someday, and I'd love to see them joined by a few new friends.

8.2/10

"Have any of you heard it? The heartbreak of a parent who's lost a child... When a parent's heart breaks, the sound can travel for miles. So I really need to say this to you. Be as nice to Gang-du as you can. Don't scold him, okay?"

Korean cinema is often highly regarded by critics and film buffs alike, as South Korean filmmakers produce horror films and action-thrillers with more verve and creativity than their Hollywood counterparts. 2006's The Host is South Korea's attempt at an epic monster movie in the vein of Godzilla and King Kong. Directed and co-written by the Oscar-winning Bong Joon-ho (Memories of Murder), The Host does not disappoint, with the Koreans successfully nailing yet another genre. Despite a comparatively paltry $11 million production budget, this is a superlative monster movie, and its production values are only a few notches below a big-budget Hollywood blockbuster. Consistently thrilling and involving, The Host benefits from competent storytelling, engaging character drama, strong creature effects and top-flight filmmaking from top to bottom. It succeeds as a straight-up monster movie due to the many exhilarating and edge-of-your-seat sequences involving the creature, yet the film also works as a familial drama, examining the breakdown of a dysfunctional family in a time of great crisis.

A dim-witted family man, Gang-du (Song Kang-ho) runs a concession stand along the Han River with his father and young daughter. A nearby U.S. military base dumping toxic chemicals into the river over several years results in the creation of a ferocious amphibious creature that suddenly emerges from the Han River to begin a vicious rampage. After slaughtering multiple people, the beast flees and returns to its lair carrying Gang-du's daughter, Hyun-seo (Go Ah-sung), for future consumption. Gang-du naturally assumes the worst, and his family comes to his aid to grieve Hyun-seo's presumed death. However, word surfaces that Gang-du's daughter is, in fact, alive in captivity and being held somewhere in the concrete storm drains feeding into the Han River. Though the authorities quarantine Gang-du due to an apparent virus threat, he escapes and works with his family to bring the girl back home safely.

The Host does ask you to briefly suspend your disbelief to accept the plot. After the creature rises, we watch as it ruthlessly slaughters several people, devouring some and leaving others to die of blood loss, before snatching young Hyun-seo and taking her back to its lair alive. One imagines that she should have drowned due to the beast's constant submersion under the water, or at least received whiplash as a result of being carried around like a ragdoll. Luckily, beyond this hard-to-swallow contrivance, The Host is a top-notch flick mixing monster movie theatrics with moments of black humour, outright slapstick and biting satire. However, the humour is not a dumb distraction, as it feels like an organic extension of the characters' personalities. When Gang-du's family sprawls all over the floor, writhing around in clumsy hysteria over Hyun-seo's apparent death, it is simultaneously poignant and hilarious. Joon-ho competently navigates the challenging tonal changes, which is also a testament to the excellent performances from a capable cast.

To Joon-ho's credit, he wastes little time before diving into the tour de force set piece involving the monster's first attack along the Han River. Especially with an R rating in place that allows for shocking bloodletting, it's an astounding sequence, and it is so unnerving and riveting due to how plausible it seems. Indeed, Joon-ho dials down the theatrics to create a scarily brutal attack guaranteed to send chills down your spine. Momentum unfortunately slows down following this initial rampage, and the film runs too long at almost two hours, but there are far more strong moments than weak scenes. The attack scenes throughout the picture are absolutely killer, with cinematographer Kim Hyung-koo using exceptionally crisp and steady framing to capture the mayhem, allowing for maximum visibility to let us properly marvel at the abilities of this beast. The climax, in particular, is a stunner - a competently orchestrated showdown that is astonishing and emotionally affecting in equal measure. The creature design by Weta Workshop is commendable, and the special effects by American production house The Orphanage (The Day After Tomorrow, Superman Returns) are quite good, even if the beast is not always entirely convincing. Sometimes, the CGI looks too obvious, but Joon-ho's direction is strong enough to belie such shortcomings.

Song Kang-ho (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance) is hugely effective as the bumbling Gang-du. He's a terrific comedic presence, but his love for his daughter always shines through. Moreover, the actor impeccably sells the character's transformation from a slacker father to a mature parent. It's refreshing for The Host to feature a dysfunctional family battling the beast rather than a selection of soldiers or scientists. Speaking of which, The Host is an unorthodox creature feature that outright rejects Western mentalities: Joon-ho shows the monster in full view early into the film, the characters take precedence over action, no characters are safe, and the downbeat ending is unexpected. As a result, the film is a breath of fresh air within a genre that has grown stale of late.

There are political and satirical undertones throughout The Host, as Joon-ho drew inspiration for the movie from a widely-reported scandal involving the dumping of formaldehyde down drains running into the Han River. In the film, American soldiers combat the creature using the chemist agent known as "Agent Yellow," an obvious reference to the infamous Agent Orange from the Vietnam War. Indeed, Joon-ho openly admits that this movie is a metaphor and a political commentary about the United States. The Host is not perfect due to its occasionally rickety digital effects and a few patches of wobbly pacing, but it perpetually retains a quirky charm. It contains several standout action sequences, yet the film also follows the time-honoured Spielbergian formula of a dysfunctional family that must come together in an hour of crisis. If you like monster movies, seek out The Host as soon as possible.

7.7/10

"A man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live and is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut down like a flower.'"

Was another adaptation of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol really necessary, especially with several excellent retellings already available on home video? The answer is probably not, but that didn't prevent this 1999 made-for-TV iteration of A Christmas Carol from being made. Patrick Stewart spent years performing a successful one-man version of the story on stage, thus it was logical to preserve Stewart's interpretation of the infamous Ebenezer Scrooge on film. Luckily, the resultant picture does possess a certain charm, and it manages to encapsulate the magic of Dickens' enduring classic. However, this A Christmas Carol is a very workmanlike adaptation; not awful or unwatchable but certainly unremarkable, as it lacks a unique spin to distinguish it from hundreds of other adaptations. Sure, we have Patrick Stewart at the centre of it all, but everything else is too ordinary.

Set in Victorian London in the 1800s, Ebenezer Scrooge (Stewart) is a bitter, miserly businessman whose number one priority is making money. A solitary curmudgeon, Scrooge resides in a huge house he's too cheap to cheat, and the community both fears and loathes him. Seven years prior, Scrooge's business partner Jacob Marley (Lloyd) died, leaving just Scrooge and his poor, long-suffering assistant Bob Cratchit (Grant). Christmas is a holiday that Scrooge particularly despises, and he's appalled by the notion of Cratchit taking the entire day off without his wages being affected. But on one Christmas Eve, Scrooge is haunted by the ghost of Jacob Marley who warns Scrooge that he will be visited by three spirits - the Ghost of Christmas Past (Grey), the Ghost of Christmas Present (Barrit) and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come - who aim to show Scrooge the error of his ways and offer him a chance at redemption.

A Christmas Carol has been done to death, and was well-trodden territory before this version went into production. It's therefore difficult to put a fresh spin on the material, and 1999's A Christmas Carol barely even tries; the story is told in a straightforward fashion, with no audacious twists or turns. To be fair, though, there is a bit more lead-up preceding the supernatural journey, with an opening scene depicting Marley's outdoor funeral being the most notable inclusion. What's also nice about this version is that it utilises a seldom-used portion of Dickens' original text: the Ghost of Christmas Present showing Scrooge people around the world who live under miserable conditions but still find time for Christmas. However, not everything works; the slang term "joshing" is used, even though the word was likely not used in the 19th Century. Plus, Scrooge's sister is named Fan in the source material, but here she's known as Fran for some reason.

Directed by David Hugh Jones, this A Christmas Carol was produced for the TNT cable channel under the auspices of Hallmark Entertainment. While production values are decent and the attention to period detail is above-average for a television movie, a lot of interiors and street scenes look too stagey, as if the filmmakers shot on back-lots rather than a lived-in town. At least pacing is smooth and Jones' direction is respectable. However, one of the film's biggest downfalls is its depiction of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Sequences involving this spectre should be sinister and chilling, yet the spirit here looks more like a Jawa from Star Wars, sapping any sense of threat from these scenes. Also, during the aforementioned globe-trotting scene, Scrooge and Ghost of Christmas Present travel to different locations via a tornado. The tornado is a horrid device which should have been scrapped in pre-production, let alone kept in post-production with its dismal special effects.

If viewers can separate Patrick Stewart from his portrayal of Captain Picard in Star Trek, they should easily be able to accept the actor as Ebenezer Scrooge. Stewart first played the character in 1988, and has frequently performed his show around the holiday season in the decades since. The actor has an astute understanding of Scrooge, and he makes for an excellent curmudgeon, believably gruff at the beginning of the story and convincingly changed by the end. The supporting cast isn't bad. Dominic West is credible as Scrooge's nephew Fred, while Richard E. Grant is a wonderful Bob Cratchit. The spirits, though, are a tad underwhelming.

It's difficult to review further retellings of A Christmas Carol. The terrific 1951 version with Alastair Sim is universally revered, and we've also had the excellent TV movie with George C. Scott (this reviewer's favourite iteration of the story), a brilliant but underrated animated movie from the early '70s which brought back Sim as Scrooge, a modern retelling with Bill Murray, and lots more. In comparison, 1999's A Christmas Carol is just okay. It's not the worst version you will ever see, and it would probably have more merit if it was not preceded by so many other Christmas Carol retellings. Nevertheless, there are far better versions of this story out there.

6.2/10