Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"At this moment, I didn't feel shame or fear, but just kind of blah, like when you're sitting there and all the water's run out of the bathtub."

Terrence Malick's masterful debut feature, Badlands is a deliberately-paced thriller of immense power and striking visual lyricism. The picture was produced for a paltry $300,000, and is loosely based on the real-life killing spree of Charles Starkweather and Caril-Ann Fugate, whose senseless actions shocked the American public in the late 1950s. Malick, who produced and wrote the film on top of directing, stripped any sense of romanticism from the story, preventing any comparisons to Bonnie & Clyde. Certainly, the dated '70s aesthetic and the idea of a couple on the run is comparable to Bonnie & Clyde, but the similarities end there.

Kit (Sheen) is a 25-year-old garbage collector from South Dakota who looks a lot like James Dean. Not long into the film, he meets Holly Sargis (Spacek), a 15-year-old with a privileged upbringing and a keen interest in reading and music. The two fall head over heels for one another, but Holly's widower father (Oates) strongly disapproves of the relationship. In order to be with Holly, Kit murders his lover's father in cold blood, and the two set the house on fire and flee to the badlands of Montana hoping to start a new life together. But the authorities are not far behind the pair, and Kit eventually turns to killing a string of innocent people as Holly and himself go on the run.

Badlands is easily the best motion picture Terrence Malick has ever made, as it's the most focused and possesses the most amount of narrative momentum. Unlike Malick's intolerable later output, the film is not weighed down by self-indulgence or undisciplined storytelling. Rather, Badlands is a ripping thriller which briskly establishes its two protagonists before sending them on their crime spree. Malick packs a lot into the film's 90-minute running time, and the pace is often kept taut. Admittedly, the picture does occasionally plod, and there is a fair amount of obvious and slipshod ADR, but Malick gets more right than wrong. The most remarkable aspect of Badlands is its visuals - cinematographers Brian Pobyn, Tak Fujimoto and Steven Larner skilfully photographed the harsh bleakness of the South Dakota badlands, while the score by George Tipton bursts with haunting melodies. The surreal yet banal landscapes essentially reflect the empty souls of Kit and Holly. Thus, instead of choosing between style or substance, Malick mixed the two, a trick that more filmmakers should learn.

From start to finish, Kit and Holly remain bewildering characters, with Malick telling their story as it is and leaving viewers to interpret what they see. Holly's motivations can possibly be understood in terms of simple boredom, naïveté and being in love with Kit, though it's hard to say for certain. Kit, on the other hand, is a genuine enigma. Consistently described as a dead ringer for James Dean, he's a fascinating combination of boyish charm and cold-blooded killer. Kit's brand of evil is peculiar, as he does not seem to carry any emotional baggage. In fact, he seems detached from the violence - the people he kills are not bad and do not deserve to die, and Kit kills them without any sense of remorse. Thus, Malick creates a fascinating scenario: viewers will want to get closer to the pair and find out precisely what makes them tick, yet the film keeps us at arm's length, never pretending to know all the answers. Some may dislike Badlands for this reason or perceive it as lazy, but this reviewer found the experience uniquely enthralling. After all, Kit and Holly's real-life counterparts are question marks, hence armchair psychology would be foolish.

Badlands greatly benefits from the presence of Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek. Sheen is the better of the two, probably because he's given the most to do as Kit. Sheen's boyish charisma is a huge asset, and he really nails the characteristics which make his character such a mystery. Sheen moves like a primal force, and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to his actions. But he also baulks from making Kit outright evil; he always maintains a sense of charm and amiability, which is exactly what makes his actions so shocking. Meanwhile, Spacek provides solid support for Sheen; her quiet, understated performance as Holly is a revelation. Spacek was in her early 20s here, yet she's tremendously nuanced, and it's no surprise that she went on to have a remarkable career.

After Badlands and Days of Heaven, the infamously reclusive Terrence Malick disappeared from the filmmaking scene for twenty years, after which his films suddenly became bloated and unfocused. It is therefore refreshing to watch Badlands and see just how disciplined and masterful Malick used to be.

7.9/10

"The symbol is associated with a Pagan deity named Baghuul... He consumes the souls of the human children."

Let's not mince words here: Sinister scared the fucking shit out of me, and that is not an accolade I hand out lightly. It's rare to stumble upon a truly scary movie in this day and age; the horror genre has grown stale of late, with filmmakers constantly wasting our time with predictable jump scares and poor attempts at tension. 2012's Sinister is a diamond in the rough, an authentically terrifying low-budget horror gem that puts to shame 99% of horror movies released in the last decade. Directed in the classical style by Scott Derrickson - who made a huge impression in 2005 with his breakthrough chiller The Exorcism of Emily Rose - the film is of a rare breed that burrows under the skin and haunts you for days.

A true crime author, Ellison (Ethan Hawke) made a huge splash a decade ago with his hit book Kentucky Blood, but followed his debut with a string of humiliating misses. Looking to write another hit, Ellison moves his family to rural Pennsylvania. Unbeknownst to Ellison's family, including wife Tracy (Juliet Rylance) and daughter Ashley (Clare Foley), he has actually moved them into the very house where four people were killed in the horrific unsolved murder case that Ellison plans to write about. Hoping to connect to the crime and conduct extensive research about the brutal murder, Ellison sets up a private office in which to do his work. However, Ellison stumbles upon far more than he bargained for when he discovers a box of 8mm home movies in the attic. The box, as it turns out, contains disturbing snuff films showing families being murdered by a demonic ghoul. Delving further and further into the case, Ellison reaches the point where the line between reality and nightmare is blurred.

Unlike most horror flicks, Derrickson and co-writer C. Robert Cargill show interest in developing the characters as genuine human beings. The scenes of Tracy and Ellison arguing over what's best for the family feel organic rather than tacked on, and help to generate a sense of danger. Likewise, the film works as a careful character study of Ellison, who's struggling to reclaim his former glory at any cost. Striving to make a lasting legacy, Ellison grows distant from his family as he becomes overwhelmed by his obsessive work practises. Some may question why Ellison does not automatically pick up and leave as soon as he thinks something is up, but this is all part of Ellison's flawed character; he doesn't want to believe anything is wrong. He's so consumed with the thought of finishing his book, and so convinced that supernatural stuff is non-existent, that he refuses to think straight. Added to this, Sinister may look like a standard horror fare on the surface, but it's surprisingly inventive, with a late plot twist and a climax which had this reviewer's jaw gaping open.

Scott Derrickson is a real talent in the field of horror. The Exorcism of Emily Rose is one of the creepiest horror movies of its decade, yet Derrickson has upped the ante with Sinister, showing that his tragic remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still was just an unfortunate fluke. Admittedly, Sinister is occasionally predictable and Derrickson serves up a smattering of jump scares, but the film is extremely effective nevertheless because the images which trigger the jump scares are goddamn petrifying. The way that Derrickson builds and maintains tension is legendary, and a late scene grows so intense that you could be forgiven for screaming in terror alongside Ellison. Every set-piece is well-staged and effective; the snuff films are too immediate for comfort, and tension is intoxicating whenever Ellison wanders his house's dark hallways. Furthermore, Derrickson's crew clearly understood the importance of an effective soundscape in horror. Christopher Young's score is harrowing and skin-crawling, and the soundtrack is otherwise filled with creepy sounds, whisperings and chants. It's rare to see a horror film in this style that's so technically proficient.

Ethan Hawke was faced with a tough task in portraying Ellison; he was required to communicate the writer's bruised ego and sell his self-destructive ambition, all the while remaining watchable and maintaining audience sympathy. Remarkably, he pulled it off. Hawke seems genuine terrified whenever the occasion calls for it, and he makes Ellison seem like a real person. Moreover, a lot of the more gruesome imagery from the 8mm home movies is never actually glimpsed; Derrickson instead replaced a few unsettling moments with Hawke's horrified reactions. It amplifies the power of said scenes, and it also prevents Sinister from devolving into dumb torture porn. Meanwhile, in her first major motion picture, Juliet Rylance holds her own playing Ellison's wife, Tracy. In a welcome twist on the usual cliché, Tracy does not see anything that makes her suspect the house is haunted. Also in the cast is Vincent D'Onofrio, glimpsed via iChat as a University professor who assists Ellison in his research. An amiable James Ransone plays a helpful deputy, while Fred Dalton Thompson is excellent as a sheriff who detests the thought of Ellison moving into his town.

Sinister is a true breath of fresh air. This is an exceptional horror film, reinforcing that Derrickson is one of this generation's finest horror filmmakers. Perhaps what sets it apart from its contemporaries is how focused it is. James Wan's remarkable Insidious was spine-chilling, yet the terror was broken up by a sense of funhouse camp. And while Ti West's The Innkeepers is scary, it gives us two fun central characters and a healthy sense of humour. Sinister has none of that. It's a downright petrifying film which scares the fucking hell out of you and never lets you feel safe. If you watch it in a dark room by yourself late at night, you won't sleep for days.

8.3/10

"Can we take a direct flight back to reality, or do we have to change planes in Denver?'"

After Christmas with the Kranks, Surviving Christmas, Fred Claus, Four Christmases and similar interminable dreck, a lot of people groan at the very notion of a family Christmas film as if they're on their way to a root canal. Not to mention, Christmas movies with Tim Allen are typically a special kind of awful. With this in mind, it's surprising to report that 1994's The Santa Clause - a Disney-produced Christmas flick with Tim Allen - is enjoyable, wholesome family entertainment with a few genuine laughs and some heartfelt sentiment. The debut vehicle for TV sitcom star Tim Allen (Home Improvement), The Santa Clause was a surprise hit for Disney back in 1994; grossing over $144 million in the United States alone. Being a PG-rated Christmas film, it is aimed more at children than adults and is a feel-good fantasy about belief, dreams and childhood innocence, but the film is nonetheless firmly rooted in good old-fashioned holiday spirit; something that's missing from 95% of other contemporary yuletide movies.

Tim Allen plays Scott Calvin; a successful, divorced toy executive whose latest project has earned him great respect and praise. Unfortunately, his home life is less successful. On Christmas Eve, Scott is allowed to spend time with his son Charlie (Lloyd), though Charlie is less than keen about seeing his old man. During the night, Charlie and Scott are awakened by a loud clatter on the roof. Suspecting a prowler, Scott goes outside and catches Santa in the act. Losing his balance, the big man falls off the roof and is killed instantly. Spurred on by Charlie, Scott climbs into the sleigh, dons Santa's suit, and spends the remainder of the night delivering presents to children across the world before ending up at the North Pole. Head elf Bernard (Krumholtz) informs Scott that by slipping on the red suit, he has activated the "Santa Clause," making him contractually bound to carry out Santa's annual duties. Making matters worse, Scott's subsequent changing appearance and Santa-esque eccentricities prompt his ex-wife Laura (Crewson) to file for sole custody of Charlie.

The Santa Clause is a fun, heart-warming movie which is perhaps the best contemporary portrayal of Santa and his fascinating universe. Such a feat was not pulled off with cheap emotional manipulation or hokey dramatics about the power of believing (like The Polar Express), but instead by using gentle humour and a heavy dose of contemporary life. Custody battles, divorce, scepticism, police and psychiatry all factor into this tale, making it relevant for modern audiences. Fortunately, though, these elements do not make the proceedings dreary. In fact, it actually gives the story real weight, grounding the more fantastical elements. Moreover, it extends the appeal of The Santa Clause to more mature viewers who'll have more to latch onto than mindless saccharine. The film is not quite airtight, though, as the year separating the two Christmases depicted in the movie flies by too quickly, feeling like weeks rather than months. Also, is anyone else horrified by the notion that Scott got the job by killing Santa, and nobody in the North Pole even cares?

There are echoes of Miracle on 34th Street throughout The Santa Clause, particularly in the theme of "Is it crazy to believe in Santa?" that's invoked in the scepticism everyone faces when news of Scott's Christmas adventure begins to spread. Accomplished television director John Pasquin (who worked on Allen's Home Improvement) has crafted an understated, character-driven film here. Eschewing obvious pitfalls and childish gags (with a few exceptions, such as a fart joke), Pasquin and his crew concentrated on the natural humour found within Calvin's crisis of identity. Plenty of funny situations stem from this, and Scott's consistent one-liners are side-splitting. The Santa Clause also answers a number of cynical questions about the Santa Claus myth; it addresses how Santa fits through chimneys and gets into homes without chimneys, and how Santa is able to deliver presents across the world in one night. The only head-scratching plot hole - and this applies to most Santa movies - is simple: how can adults not believe that there's a Santa when he delivers presents each year that the adults would find to be of unknown origins?

The script by Leo Benvenuti and Steve Rudnick was tailor-made to suit Tim Allen's sarcastic, dry line delivery. Allen is more of a personality than an actor, but his performance as Scott is effective, heartfelt and genuine - never does it feel as if Allen is simply reprising his role from Home Improvement. On the other hand, The Santa Clause is let down by a notably ineffective child actor in Eric Lloyd, who whinges and whines but comes across as irritating. In the throwaway roles of Laura and Neil, Wendy "watch me be emotional" Crewson and Judge "I always play the same role" Reinhold are merely passable. Fortunately, as Bernard the elf, David Krumholtz is a constant delight. It's a bit unfortunate, though, that Krumholtz was given such a small amount of screen time.

In spite of its flaws, The Santa Clause is a hugely funny, sweet fantasy suitable for family viewing. The best children's movies are those that kids will love, and will continue to love as they grow up and become adults. The Santa Clause is just such a movie - it will appeal to children and it will keep adults entertained, making it an ideal slice of family entertainment for the festive season. The film has unfortunately been diminished by a couple of horrendous sequels, but rest assured that this first instalment is something special.

7.9/10

"We're in love. We just want to be together. What's wrong with that?"

Yet another remarkable feather in Wes Anderson's cinematic hat, 2012's Moonrise Kingdom is an enormously lovely adventure which pays homage to classic children's books. This is the director's second screenplay co-written by Roman Coppola (after 2007's The Darjeeling Limited), and it fervidly incorporates Anderson's key idiosyncrasies. Of course, some viewers will never find themselves able to embrace Anderson's distinctively quirky moviemaking style, but his fans will undoubtedly find Moonrise Kingdom to be enrapturing. Furthermore, Anderson proves he's not a one-trick pony by bringing something new to table with this film; a mainstream accessibility achieved not through dumbing down his vision, but through refining it. Moonrise Kingdom is possibly the perfect Wes Anderson movie, as it encapsulates his values and exhibits his gift for visual flair.

Taking place on the island of New Penzance in 1965, the story concerns 12-year-old Khaki Scout Sam (Gilman), an orphan who's disenfranchised with both the scout troupe and society in general. Sam decides to make a break for it, escaping the scout camp to start a whole new life in the woods. Joining him is young pen pal Suzy (Hayward), who's equally desperate to escape from her lawyer parents. As the two edge deeper into the forest to be alone, adults begin scrambling to find them, including local policeman Captain Sharp (Willis), a Social Services representative (Swinton) and Khaki Scout Master Ward (Norton).

The plot is unremarkable and dull on the surface, making it rather pointless to recount the narrative ins and outs of Moonrise Kingdom. But it's Anderson's marvellous execution of the mundane tale which gives the picture its spark of brilliance - like most of the director's efforts, this is a film that must be experienced, not merely discussed, as there's so much more here than any review will be able to provide. Moonrise Kingdom is frequently amusing, but the characters never seem in on the joke - the humour is derived from the irony and the inherent awkwardness of several situations, not to mention one well-placed sight gag. Perhaps the biggest accomplishment of the film is that it sublimely captures the spirited, juvenile nature of love at an early age, and it juxtaposes such whimsical feelings against the lonely, despondent adult characters. As a result, Moonrise Kingdom is funny, relatable and moving, and it packs lasting power.

There is no other active director whose style is as immediately recognisable as Wes Anderson's. If you catch a small snippet of any one of his flicks, it takes mere seconds to identify that it's an Anderson production. His fingerprints are so distinctive: graceful long takes, artistic production design, zoned-out characters, elegant tracking shots, and gentle, whimsical scoring (here provided by Alexandre Desplat). But while Moonrise Kingdom is permeated with Anderson DNA, the picture is its own unique experience. Here, the director explores the outdoors and recreates boy scout life with a heroic amount of detail. Richard Yeoman's camerawork is fluid and beautiful, not to mention it feels astonishingly precise. Admittedly, the film fails to plumb any great emotional depths and it does struggle to maintain momentum from time to time. However, the film is infused with a considerable amount of earnest sweetness, and that's enough to outweigh any minor flaws.

Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward are motion picture first-timers, but you would never think it. In spite of their youth and inexperience, the pair share more chemistry than most leading couples, and they're tremendously believable. Hayward is the better of the two as Suzy. The kind of natural talent that seems destined for stardom, Hayward has a wonderful screen presence of intelligence, beauty, innocence and vulnerability. Bruce Willis is another standout here, moving away from his typecast roles (most of which he sleeps through these days) to deliver an understated performance as the local sheriff. Seeing Willis here is unexpected yet appreciated, and the star brings a warm, soft touch to the film. Edward Norton is equally solid as the Khaki Scout Master, while Tilda Swinton is excellent as the dour social services representative. Anderson regular Bill Murray also appears as Suzy's father. It's doubtful that Murray even knew he was in the movie - judging by his hilariously random behaviour and line delivery here, it looks as if Anderson just followed Murray with a camera and filmed snippets of the actor's life. Rounding out the all-star cast is Frances McDormand as Suzy's mother, and a side-splitting Jason Schwartzman as another scout.

Moonrise Kingdom is not flawless, but it's a damn good Wes Anderson picture which can be enjoyed by more than just the art house crowd. It's one hell of an experience to watch the film and absorb the care, detail and intelligence that Anderson put into his creation, which is welcome to witness in this day and age.

7.7/10

"Yeah, you Americans, why don't you go back to strip malls und drink your Zimas and Smirnoff Ices! "

Written and directed by the comedy troupe behind Super Troopers, Beerfest had the potential to be a laugh-a-minute comedy classic. After all, the entire picture revolves around beer: the brewing of beer, the consumption of beer, an international beer drinking competition, and beer-induced antics. Unfortunately, the finished product is a hit-and-miss affair, but it's good fun nevertheless and the gags that do fly are fairly funny. Beerfest is a love letter to alcoholism, carrying its R-rating as a badge of honour as it serves up bawdy, foul-mouthed humour whilst observing reckless drinking. Still, there's no getting around the lack of quality belly-laughs here, and there's no reason for the film to run a mammoth 110 minutes.

After the death of their grandfather, brothers Jan (Soter) and Todd (Stolhanske) travel to Germany to deposit the ashes. However, the boys are mistakenly introduced to Beerfest, an underground "Fight Club" style beer-drinking competition. Beaten and humiliated by the German team, Jan and Todd return home seeking to build a powerful beer-drinking squad and give the Germans their just desserts at Beerfest next year. To create their team of beer guzzlers, the brothers court several of their best drinking buddies: local glutton Landfill (Heffernan), science nerd Fink (Lemme) and male prostitute Barry (director Jay Chandrasekhar). With the team in place, they begin an intense year-long training regimen to prepare for the impending competition.

Broken Lizard made a splash with their 2002 cult favourite Super Troopers, but were maligned for their follow-up project, 2004's Club Dread. For Beerfest, the Lizard troupe opted to satirise the sports movie genre. Thus, screenwriters Chandrasekhar, Kevin Heffernan, Steve Lemme, Paul Soter and Erik Stolhanske filled Beerfest with sports movie clichés, from the concept of an underdog team wanting to prove themselves to slow-motion shots during the finale. Furthermore, Jan and Todd's underdog team is comprised of lovable losers who can only reach their full potential when working together, while the opponents are pure evil. Oh, and did I mention the period when the underdogs doubt themselves and begin to fall apart? There aren't a lot of surprises throughout the film due to its eagerness to parody the formula, and that's fine, but some sense of inventiveness would be appreciated. Fortunately, though, the final competition is awesome - it's drawn out to epic proportions, with the lads competing in every beer-related game imaginable.

Beerfest throws a lot of jokes at the wall, and a few of them do stick. However, by no means is this classy humour - it's low-brow (brau?) stuff, with Fink jerking off frogs and Landfill's twin letting off belches resulting in hurricane-level destruction. Broken Lizard formed in their college days, and it would seem that they still haven't grown out of their college-level mentalities. On top of this, there are a few fun movie references: characters make fun of Arnold Schwarzenegger's accent, there's a sly homage to First Blood, and the Fight Club nods are endless. However, with Beerfest running at almost two hours, Broken Lizard repeat themselves ad nauseam, and waste too much time burning through pages of superfluous exposition. The biggest blow against the film, though, is that it's just not as funny as it should have been. I guffawed a few times and I had fun with the flick, but it lacks show-stopping belly-laughs.

Playing the leads, Paul Soter, Erik Stolhanske, Kevin Heffernan, Jay Chandrasekhar and Steve Lemme all share a strong camaraderie, and it's fun to watch these guys interact. Heffernan is most notable as the beer-swilling chubster affectionately known as Landfill. Meanwhile, veteran actor Jürgen Prochnow also appears here, gleefully playing against type as the one proudly presiding over the German team. The Broken Lizard guys were smart enough to include references to one of Prochnow's most famous roles in the film Das Boot, yielding some of the best laughs in the film. Another veteran in the cast is Cloris Leachman as the boys' filthy great-grandmother. Leachman is astonishingly game here, being as raunchy as the script requires while also making the character seem somewhat grounded in reality.

Humour is very subjective, hence it's difficult to say whether or not someone will enjoy Beerfest. For this reviewer, it's a fairly funny movie, but it's not as hilarious as one might want. When the film works, though, it definitely does work, and the crude, R-rated material makes it ideal for college campus parties around the world. If you're hanging out with your buddies with beer and pizza, Beerfest will probably satisfy you.

6.0/10

"We've gotta get this dog off the street 'cause it's kidnapped from a maniac."

Although the trailers tried to portray 2012's Seven Psychopaths as an oddball mainstream comedy with an all-star cast, the actual movie is a violent, uniquely peculiar black comedy that joyfully rejects mainstream sensibilities. Irish playwright Martin McDonagh's second feature film after his 2008 masterpiece, In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths is more in the vein of a Coen Brothers flick, with razor-sharp, witty dialogue and vicious violence buttressing a story about criminals and killers in a hectic world. With most major studio releases now being remakes, sequels, prequels or adaptations of pre-existing source material, it is refreshing to witness something like Seven Psychopaths, an audaciously original motion picture that plays with genre conventions and tells a creative, multilayered narrative. It's not quite as good as In Bruges, but it's a remarkable sophomore effort for McDonagh.

An alcoholic screenwriter, Marty (Colin Farrell) is suffering from writer's block. He has the title for his latest script - "Seven Psychopaths" - but cannot crack the idea or conceive of the seven titular crazy characters. Enter Marty's eccentric pal Billy (Sam Rockwell), who works alongside Hans (Christopher Walken) in a small-time con game. Billy and Hans maintain a scheme by stealing dogs and returning them to their owners for the reward money. But the pair find themselves in over their heads when they kidnap a prized Shih Tzu owned by a ruthless mobster, Charlie (Woody Harrelson). Determined to retrieve his beloved dog, Charlie begins a killing spree as he works to find the culprits. Marty finds himself inadvertently involved in the ensuing clusterfuck, all the while gleaning ideas for his screenplay.

Seven Psychopaths is so deliriously entertaining due to how unexpectedly meta it is. The characters regularly reference conventions of typical action films before we see them live through such clichés. For example, in the third act, Billy talks about his desire for Marty's latest screenplay to be violent and full of shootouts, but Marty pitches the idea of a second half in which the characters drive into the desert and simply talk. During this conversation, the characters are driving into the desert and they end up talking for ages. Billy refuses to believe that a gun battle will not take place between himself and Charlie, to the extent that he forces a shootout. Furthermore, as if McDonagh was aware of his film's own shortcomings and was keen to beat his critics to the punch, Hans, at one stage, points out that the female characters in Marty's script either have nothing to say or get shot after five minutes. And remember, this is a motion picture called Seven Psychopaths, written by an Irish screenwriter named Martin, and it is about an Irish screenwriter named Martin writing a script entitled "Seven Psychopaths." Astonishingly, the self-referential material never comes off as pretentious or too self-knowing. Instead, it all sounds organic, as McDonagh doesn't overdo it and is a genuinely skilled writer.

As expected from McDonagh, the writer-director's dialogue is engaging and witty, and he has a perfect ear for dark humour. McDonagh fills Seven Psychopaths with hilarious non-sequiturs. One particularly bizarre interlude introduces Tom Waits as a bunny-carrying oddball eager to tell Marty about his life experiences. This leads to a wildly audacious and riotously funny montage that rewrites history by revealing the fates of several infamous murderers who were never caught, including the Zodiac killer. The story proper is also interrupted at various times for small vignettes spotlighting characters from Marty's budding script. It's brilliant stuff. McDonagh is a fantastic director, too, with a firm grasp on pacing and mise-en-scène, while Ben Davis's cinematography is equally agreeable. Seven Psychopaths was shot on 35mm film, giving the picture a gorgeous cinematic look that digital cameras cannot replicate. The film's momentum does wane at times, and a few tonal changes are a bit jarring, but for the most part, the picture is agreeable and entertaining. And be sure to stick around for the first segment of the credits that culminate with a hilarious additional scene.

Colin Farrell and Sam Rockwell are an inspired pair of protagonists, and they work wonderfully together. Farrell makes for a great panicked straight man, while Rockwell is at his most gleefully unhinged here. Rockwell is terrifically energetic, and his comic timing and delivery are spot-on - it's especially side-splitting to watch Rockwell describe his vision of the climactic shootout. As Hans, the always watchable Christopher Walken (with a cravat around his neck) looks to be having an absolute ball here, resulting in some of the movie's highlights. (When ordered to put his hands up by a gunman, Hans simply refuses, saying he doesn't want to.) Meanwhile, Woody Harrelson is an ideal Charlie - he's darkly funny, and he's sinister when he needs to be. There are also several terrific cameos, with appearances from Tom Waits, Harry Dean Stanton, Gabourey Sidibe and Zeljko Ivanek (you may not know his name, but you almost certainly know his face). The first scene also features Boardwalk Empire actors Michael Pitt and Michael Stuhlbarg, who set the tone by playing hitmen.

Like Cabin in the Woods, Martin McDonagh's Seven Psychopaths is a meta movie that is not overdone. It's clever without becoming too proud of itself, and it's ideal for intelligent, film-savvy audiences. Fiercely funny and beset with twists and scene-stealing performances (it cannot be overstated just how great Sam Rockwell is), Seven Psychopaths is a thoroughly entertaining non-PC romp that demands multiple viewings.

8.1/10

"If you lose, our government will have directly financed terrorism..."

After the tragic debacle of Die Another Day, the James Bond franchise was in dire need of a reboot to bring the character back down to earth. Producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli also needed to do something fresh with the character, as the franchise's novelty had long worn off. The result is 2006's Casino Royale, which manages to do something new with Agent 007 by hitting the reset button and returning to Ian Flaming's original vision of Bond. It's therefore quite fitting that Casino Royale is an adaptation of Fleming's first Bond novel, making this the first 007 film in over a decade to be based on a pre-existing source. This is not the first time that Casino Royale has been adapted - it was previously made into a telemovie in the 1950s, and a 1967 spy genre satire with David Niven. This is, however, the first canonical adaptation of the story, and the first serious big screen treatment of the source. Casino Royale also diminishes proverbial Bond movie staples; it foregrounds drama and strong violence while keeping one-liners, sexual gags and gadgets to a minimum.

Not long after being promoted to 00 status, James Bond (Craig) lands in hot water with one of his MI6 commanders, M (Dench), due to his proclivity for killing suspects. For his next assignment, 007 is paired with alluring accountant Vesper Lynd (Green), who's hired to keep a sharp eye on the loose canon. Bond's mission is to thwart terrorist financier Le Chiffre (Mikkelsen), who seeks to win a high-stakes poker tournament at Casino Royale in order to aid international terrorist cells. Sent to the titular casino in Montenegro, Bond enters the poker tournament with Vesper acting as his aid. As Bond and Vesper sink deeper into the assignment, the pair begin to fall in love, which puts Bond's cold heart to the ultimate test.

The only real problem with Casino Royale is its lack of typical Bond elements. Unlike Licence to Kill and For Your Eyes Only, the filmmakers here got a little too down to earth for their own good, eliminating what makes Bond films so much fun. By taking away the stuff which distinguishes Bond from his imitators, Casino Royale just feels like any old modern actioner, indistinguishable from the Bourne movies or any other PG-13 action movie on the market. Furthermore, running at a sizeable 144 minutes, this is the longest Bond film to date, and it does feel like overkill. The story is decidedly skinny, and the poker tournament feels a bit too extended. The romance between Bond and Vesper particularly grinds the pace to a halt. Paul Haggis was recruited as a co-writer for the film, and his hand in the scripting yields mixed results. Dialogue is admittedly stronger here than in most Bond films, but some of the chatter sounds too self-consciously Oscar-esque, like allusions to Macbeth (of all things). Complexity is welcome, but this material is corny beyond all belief.

Martin Campbell helmed Pierce Brosnan's remarkable 007 debut, GoldenEye, making him a smart choice for Casino Royale. Campbell excels as an action director, and he truly knows how to mount an effective Bond-buster. His approach favours smooth, glorious wide shots, and his filmmaking seems to be allergic to shaky-cam and rapid-fire editing. Hence, it's possible to watch all of the fight choreography and easily discern what's happening. Moreover, Campbell can do action, suspense, torture and romance, all the while maintaining a crucial air of edginess. The stylish first scene of Casino Royale really sets the tone; it's a grainy, black-and-white introduction to the new James Bond, showing the agent getting his wings. Also notable is an early chase sequence that's especially remarkable for its use of real stunts, giving the set-piece true weight and excitement, and reflecting the film's harder, grittier tone. Fortunately, the quality of the action never flags. The centrepiece of Casino Royale is, logically, the poker game. To the credit of Campbell, he almost overcomes the ostensibly drab nature of playing cards, but not quite. As a result, the film often lags throughout the tournament.

It's a shame that Pierce Brosnan had to depart the role of James Bond, but he would not have been suitable for the new direction that Casino Royale takes. Daniel Craig, in spite of the huge controversy surrounding his hiring, is a solid 007 in the mould previously established by Timothy Dalton in the '80s. Craig is particularly notable for the way that he makes Bond seem vulnerable; he makes mistakes, he hurts when he bleeds, and it looks like his sweating is the result of genuine exertion rather than careful make-up application. Craig is a real man's man, too; a rugged, tough-as-nails action hero who looks to be in his element dispatching bad guys. As the requisite Bond girl, Eva Green is beautiful and convincing, while series veteran Judi Dench continues to impress in her fifth appearance as M. Unfortunately, Mads Mikkelsen is a weak villain, forgettable and non-threatening. The intention, clearly, was to create a more "realistic" bad guy, but here's the thing: realism to this extent is boring.

Many probably assumed that the Bond franchise would silently fizzle out after Die Another Day, as it seemed that the franchise had run its course after 40 years. Fortunately, Casino Royale gives the long-running series a new lease on life, ensuring that Bond can still go on for many more years to come. However, while a step in the right direction, Casino Royale never quite reaches the greatness that it had the potential for, as it feels a bit vanilla without the proverbial Bond film characteristics.

7.8/10

"When are you gonna grow some balls, mate?"

One of the most disturbing serial killer cases in Australian history, the Snowtown murders - or the "bodies-in-barrels" killings - were perpetrated in the late 1990s by John Bunting, Jamie Vlassakis, Robert Wagner and Mark Haydon. Between them, twelve people were tortured and murdered, and their corpses were disposed of at various places around South Australia, most notably in a disused bank vault in Snowtown. Contrary to what some may assume, Snowtown was just the location where a lot of bodies were kept - the grizzly murders were actually carried out in the lower class town of Salisbury North. 2011's Snowtown is a dramatisation of the chilling murders, and it is not a film for the faint of heart. Directed by first-timer Justin Kurzel, this is a bleak tale of murder, abuse and manipulation, and it's entirely without a positive angle or a redemptive arc. Snowtown is one of the most nihilistic and horrific Australian movies in history, yet it is also a compelling masterwork which benefits from excellent filmmaking and stunning performances right across the board.

16-year-old Jamie Vlassakis (Pittaway) lives with his mother Elizabeth (Harris) and his two younger brothers in their dingy Adelaide home. When Elizabeth leaves her sons with a friendly local, he sexually abuses the boys, traumatising the family. Into their lives soon comes the confident, charismatic John Bunting (Henshall) and his gang of mates, who torment the local paedophile into moving out of the neighbourhood. This sparks a crusade of sorts; Bunting and his cronies are disillusioned by the inherent failings of the criminal justice system which is too lenient towards perpetrators of child abuse, and want to do something about it. Bunting sets out to murder anyone he deems a threat to children, but he cannot distinguish between paedophiles and innocent homosexuals, and he becomes determined to slaughter anyone vaguely suspicious of being one or the other. Meanwhile, Bunting emerges as a father figure to Jamie, grooming the young teenager to do his sinister bidding.

Jamie sees John Bunting as somewhat of a saviour for his family, and, at first, so do we. After all, Bunting is a charismatic presence, and he puts food on the table and bonds with Jamie. It's easy to root for Bunting as he encourages the kids to vandalise the house belonging to the paedophile who abused them, even though it's morally wrong. But Bunting is more sadistic and sinister than he lets on, and he transforms from kitchen table ranter to irrational serial killer. It's hard to describe the effectiveness of Snowtown. Utterly harrowing, it's packed with scenes and images that will haunt you for a long time. This is thanks in large part to director Kurzel's matter-of-fact filmmaking approach - the movie is not glossy or stylised; it's disturbingly raw. Atmosphere, too, is spot-on, as it feels like the movie genuinely takes place in lower-class Australian suburbia during the 1990s.

For the most part, we do not see the murders. Instead, the killings are implied; we hear answering machine messages from the victims to loved ones or friends explaining that they are leaving for a few months, or permanently moving. See, in order to cover his tracks, Bunting forced his victims to record such messages before he killed them. Once this becomes clear, it's a chilling and brilliant nuance. Only one murder is seen in full detail, and, heavens me, it's disturbing beyond belief. Saw and Hostel are palatable due to their shallow, mainstream nature, but Snowtown feels uncomfortably real, as if Kurzel filmed real-life torture. Kurzel does not depict the violence in an exploitative or enjoyable way, since this is not torture porn for entertainment; Snowtown is bleak filmmaking which uncomfortably portrays the horrors of these killings. It is literally hard to watch from time to time. The film additionally benefits from Adam Arkapaw's stark cinematography, and the pounding, harrowing score by Jed Kurzel.

Snowtown is somewhat unconventional in its narrative approach, hardly focusing on the machinations behind the murders. One can't help but wonder if a more linear approach might have worked better, since a lot of compelling details about the case were omitted. For instance, the police eventually started investigating Bunting, and he had trouble finding places to store the barrels. This led him to store the barrels in the Snowtown bank vault. The film also gives us the vague sense that Bunting killed people on the flimsiest of evidence, but could have done a lot more with it. And hell, in real life, after slaughtering their final victim, Bunting and Wagner fried and ate a piece of said victim's flesh. Morbid details like this would have tremendously amplified the picture's power. Furthermore, Shaun Grant's script introduces too many new characters too soon, not giving us the chance to properly acquaint ourselves with Bunting's partners in crime. A few plot developments are too vague as well, and the film is occasionally confusing. Make no mistake, the film's narrative structure works on its own terms, but it just feels too underdone.

Without a doubt, most of the movie's power is thanks in no small part to the performances. Except for one or two of the performers, the film is inhabited by non-actors who were literally pulled off the street. You wouldn't know it, though, since the acting is spectacular. Daniel Henshall is most notable as John Bunting. Bunting is a warped psychopath and a stone-cold killer, but it's possible to almost forget this fact during the first act of the film due to Henshall's incredibly nuanced and restrained portrayal of Bunting. Henshall's performance is sensational; he has created one of the most powerful and disturbing characters in recent cinematic memory. Lucas Pittaway is equally remarkable, playing Jamie Vlassakis as a naïve boy unwillingly sucked into a cesspool of killing and nihilism.

Snowtown will shake you to your very core; it's a highly confronting film that's hard to watch and impossible to forget. Most will find it too bleak and depressing, and simply will not be able to watch it. However, those with patience and endurance will be rewarded with remarkable acting, vivid direction and exceptional filmmaking. No, this is not the definitive story of the murders, and you'll learn a lot more about the full story by watching a documentary. Snowtown is, however, a harrowing dramatisation.

7.7/10

"Three months ago, you lost the drive containing the identity of every agent embedded in terrorist organizations across the globe."

In the case of Daniel Craig's James Bond adventures, third time really is a charm. After 2006's Casino Royale and the dismal misfire that was Quantum of Solace, the producers behind the 007 franchise have finally got it right for 2012's Skyfall. This is a sensational return to form for the long-running series, an extremely satisfying Bond-buster which reincorporates traditional James Bond attributes while updating the character for the 21st Century. Skyfall is the movie that the Craig reboot has been building to since the beginning, at last developing a new identity for the series that mixes the old and the new in an agreeable fashion. Directed by the Oscar-winning Sam Mendes, the picture is rousing fun as well; it's visually gorgeous, exciting, and has a great story. Added to this, Skyfall is surprisingly deep and thoughtful.

During a crucial mission to retrieve a top secret hard-drive containing the identities of undercover MI6 agents posted around the world, James Bond (Craig) is accidentally shot by fellow agent Eve (Harris) and believed to be dead. Taking his "death" as a golden opportunity to cleanly escape Her Majesty's Secret Service, 007 retreats to a corner of the world to drink and womanise. However, in London, the mastermind behind the hard-drive theft bombs MI6 and begins releasing the identities of the undercover British agents. Head of MI6, M (Dench), is held accountable for the attacks, and the Ministry of Defence begins questioning M's competence. Learning of the bombing, Bond returns to London to investigate, eventually learning of a demented madman named Raoul Silva (Bardem), a former MI6 agent disillusioned by the secret service who has positioned M as his next target.

Skyfall welcomely reintroduces a number of iconic 'Film Bond' staples, dusting off elements like a secret lair on a deserted island and a colourful, megalomaniacal villain. Furthermore, the script (by John Logan, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade) contains a number of light-hearted quips and moments to lighten the mood, shaking off the dour self-seriousness that plagued Craig's first two outings. A new Q (played by Ben Whishaw) is introduced as well, and the scenes between Bond and Q sparkle with the same type of wit we saw during the Desmond Llewelyn era. Thankfully, reliance on old tropes does not make the material feel stale or reheated. On the contrary, Skyfall feels astonishingly fresh. Additionally, the script is filled with witty, well-written dialogue. There are even a number of sly references to prior Bond films through dialogue and situations which will definitely be appreciated by long-time series fans.

Out of Craig's three Bond pictures so far, Casino Royale is the most story-driven while Quantum of Solace is the most action-oriented. Skyfall, meanwhile, is a pitch-perfect amalgam of the two. Action scenes do not dominate Skyfall: the action is in the service of the story, not the other way around. The film clocks in at a pretty sizeable 140 minutes, and the pace does admittedly lag from time to time around the midsection, but the film is otherwise compelling and engaging. Skyfall is especially notable for the way it probes Bond's psyche and history, allowing us to understand him as more than just a caricature of our imaginations. This is a story about revenge and betrayal, and it unexpectedly brings to the fore a key Bond girl: M. It's not that the two are lovers or anything, but M acts as a kind of surrogate mother to Bond, and it's a crucial relationship which gives the film an unexpected amount of heart.

Fortunately, Skyfall nails another requisite of any good Bond flick: the opening titles. The visuals are old-fashioned yet the atmosphere is contemporary, generating a stunning display of images that suit the franchise to the ground. Adele's classy Skyfall song accompanies the titles, and her tone is spot-on. Skyfall also knocks its opening action sequence out of the park. Beginning in Istanbul, we follow Bond as he chases goons on foot, on a motorcycle and on top of a train, where he uses a freaking tractor to defend himself. It's a nail-biting tour de force of an action set-piece, destined to go down as one of the best beginnings in the series. Sam Mendes was a superlative choice to fill the director's chair, lending his Oscar-winning skills to the franchise that was in dire need of such a deft touch. Especially skilful is his ability to build tension and generate an aura of danger - this is not a "safe" 007 outing, but rather a daring film in which we feel that nobody is safe. The beautiful stylishness of the film is very much appreciated, as Mendes and master cinematography Roger Deakins (No Country for Old Men, True Grit, Revolutionary Road) photograph the frenetic mayhem sensibly, giving us the chance to marvel at the outstanding stunts and remarkable special effects. This is easily the best-looking Bond adventure in decades, and the action sequences are some of the best that the series has ever featured. However, the final showdown between Bond and Silva is a bit limp - with so much build-up, Skyfall should have delivered a show-stopping final fight between the two, but the moment never arrives.

Daniel Craig has finally come into his own as Agent 007. His performance here is more nuanced and agreeable, with hints of humanity and a sense of humour that we have not previously seen. It's not that Craig is a softer James Bond here; rather, it's that his stoic intensity is supplemented by a palpable willingness to actually have fun in the role and drop one-liners with glee. In other words, it announces the end of Bond's coming-of-age which began with Casino Royale. So far, Craig's Bond pictures has been let down by weak bad guys, but Javier Bardem is every bit Craig's equal here. Bardem, who won an Oscar for playing the vicious villain in No Country for Old Men, clearly had a great time playing Silva; he's creepily charming and at times even playful, yet he's also terrifying. Judi Dench, meanwhile, gives her role of M much more depth than ever before, and the seasoned actress has done so with consummate skill. Ralph Fiennes is also introduced as the new chairman of the Intelligence and Security Committee. Fiennes is excellent in anything, and this is no exception. Rounding out the cast is Ben Whishaw as the new Q. Whishaw has plenty of charisma and seems right at home as the tech-savvy Quartermaster. I have no problem with the idea of Whishaw entering the franchise for the long haul.

The biggest success of Skyfall is that it's a modern James Bond film which understands that times have changed since the 1960s, and it adapts to those changes, yet it also has its feet in the tradition of 007 and retains the franchise's spirit. In the final act, we get a brilliant epiphany moment: Bond stands on a London rooftop observing the Union Jack fluttering in the wind. It sublimely underscores what Bond has done for king and country, and promises that he is not finished. Skyfall also works to return the characters to "classic" form within the new contemporary aesthetic, and it's a tempting offer, especially if filmmakers like Mendes are in charge. This is the movie that Casino Royale should have been, and it helps us to forget that Quantum of Solace ever existed.

8.9/10

"I'm going to find everyone of them, and send them to the death they pray for."

A low-budget British action-thriller, 2012's Cleanskin puts terrorism in the United Kingdom under the microscope. For those unaware, the term 'cleanskin' is used to describe an unexpected terrorist with no known ties to any terrorist groups; someone who essentially appears out of the blue to wreak havoc despite appearing to be a regular citizen. The film was produced, written, directed and edited by British filmmaker Hadi Hajaig, and the product is an unusually nuanced thriller with an eye towards character development, painting a portrait of two men at opposing ends of the ideological spectrum. Cleanskin is not a complete success due to a few scripting flaws, but it's a valiant effort on the part of Hajaig.

The 'cleanskin' of the title is Ash (Galeya), a young British Muslim who elects the terrorist route after being brainwashed. Staging an attack on an arms dealer, Ash stealers a large stash of deadly plastic explosive with plans to devastate London through a series of bombings. Ash's actions send the British Secret Service into damage control, with an agent named Ewan (Bean) being assigned to track down the briefcase and retrieve the explosives before Ash can put his master plan into action.

The premise sounds like a promising set-up for a Taken-style action film spotlighting Sean Bean on a violent rampage against Muslin extremists. But Cleanskin is a different type of thriller, and the majority of its runtime is used to probe Ash's background and explore his transformation from meek University student to terrorist. Hajaig's attempt to humanise a home-grown terrorist is laudable, yet it may not sit well with everyone, and Hajaig only provides a very paltry set of reasons for Ash to want to become a terrorist. It's poignant to see Ash being "radicalised" by an overweening Imam, but the trigger which sends Ash to the dark side is preposterous: troubles with his girlfriend Kate (Middleton). Is that really what causes terrorism these days? Worse, Ash's arc is ultimately rushed, and his eventual transformation into suicide bomber is shoddy. Ash is established as someone who feels bad about a couple of civilian casualties, but he decides to strap on a bomb and murder a lot of innocents without proper motivation. Furthermore, Bean's character of Ewan is too thinly-drawn. Hajaig focuses so much on Ash that Ewan is rendered as more of a one-dimensional hero without much in the way of depth or background.

Cleanskin fares best during its major set-pieces, of which there are a few. The opening shootout is exhilarating and well-staged, while the various other conflicts throughout the picture are gripping. Hajaig occasionally employs shaky-cam which can be irritating, but the action is for the most part watchable and enjoyable. And for a film that reportedly cost an estimated £2 million, production values are top-notch and the film looks exceptional. Cleanskin also packs one hell of a punch during its scenes depicting the London bombings. In one scene, we're introduced to a beautiful, endearing young lady who's talking on the phone to her mother whilst walking to work. It's easy to assume she might become a key player, but, lo and behold, she suddenly becomes the victim of a suicide bombing. It's a brutally effective scene which emphasises the true horror of these bombings, underscoring that innocent people with their own unique lives were senselessly killed.

Sean Bean has always been a talented thespian, but has often been relegated to supporting roles in major motion pictures. It's refreshing, then, to see Bean at long last getting more substantial roles, even if they're only in direct-to-DVD efforts. Bean is excellent here as Ewan, engaging and full of intensity. In his 50s, Bean has the right look for a grizzled, gritty action hero, somewhat akin to Liam Neeson. The rest of the cast is quite good, as well. Abhin Galeya is terrific as Ash; at times charismatic, at other times scarily serious. Galeya and co-star Tuppence Middleton (as Kate) were required to play their characters both as young University students and mature adults. Amazingly, the actors sell both versions of their roles in terms of appearance, body language and temperament. It's tremendously effective.

Uneven pacing and script issues aside, Cleanskin is a solid action-thriller which deserves to be seen. It's easy to appreciate what writer-director Hadi Hajaig has achieved here, but it's a shame that the film does not quite reach its full potential. One must wonder how much more effective the film might've been with a more generous budget or with a few more script rewrites.

6.0/10