Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"Parents always lie to their children, to prepare them for the way they'll be treated later by the government."

Taken as a typical, run-of-the-mill action film, Maximum Risk is just barely serviceable. It cannot be considered a classic Jean-Claude Van Damme vehicle, though - the likes of Bloodsport and Kickboxer have that distinction, as they effectively showcase the star's outstanding fighting skills. For Maximum Risk, Van Damme was given too much plot-related stuff to handle and too many guns to shoot, denying him sufficient opportunities to do the inhuman splits and kick-ass fight moves which made him famous in the first place. For what it is, Maximum Risk does deliver lots of action, yet it's a very workmanlike effort with limited appeal. Outside of its moderately enjoyable action scenes, the picture is completely empty, emotionless and derivative, and the material in between the shootouts is exceedingly banal.

In France, police officer Alain Moreau (Van Damme) is rattled when the dead body of his identical twin brother Mikhail (also played by Van Damme) is found. Alain never knew his twin existed, as they'd been separated at an early age. Intrigued, Alain begins following the clues surrounding his brother's death, leading to him travelling to New York City where he inherits Mikhail's problems and meets his twin's beautiful girlfriend Alex (Henstridge). As it turns out, Mikhail was an enforcer for the Russian mafia, and became a target after accumulating damning evidence about corrupt FBI agents. With several parties wanting Alain dead, he and Alex set out to bring justice to those who killed Mikhail.

Larry Ferguson's script is littered with clichés (including the token love interest, corrupt FBI guys, etc), and the dialogue is both flat and lifeless. Ill-advisedly, the plot actually grows rather complex as it progresses, but Ferguson is not nearly creative enough to pull off promising plot twists or devise engaging complications. By the time the film reaches its final half an hour, it almost looks as if neither Ferguson nor Van Damme's Alain can quite figure out how everything is going to be resolved. It probably goes without saying, but Maximum Risk utterly fails in terms of character and humanity as well. Alain is a dimensionless killer lacking in personality, Alex is a bland cardboard cut-out on hand to appeal to male libido, and everyone else is a simple plot pawn given the bare minimum of development. You'll have no emotional investment in these boring people.

Maximum Risk contains all of the usual action staples including shootouts, foot chases, car chases and fisticuffs, but none of it is particularly inspiring or memorable, and nothing seems to have been assembled with much passion. Chinese action director Ringo Lam made his American debut with this film, but this is another classic case of a filmmaker relinquishing his integrity upon entering Hollywood. Pacing is not a strong suit, as Maximum Risk has a tough time maintaining interest whenever the gun barrels cool off (even the obligatory sex scene underwhelms). And there's a reason why Van Damme has never been celebrated for his thespian skills; he's often wooden and uninteresting. Unfortunately, Maximum Risk spotlights a typical Van Damme performance; he clearly phoned this one in for the paycheque. When the Mussels from Brussels attempts to shift into emotional territory, the results are more laughable than affecting. The villains here are also hopelessly forgettable and fail to intimidate, which is unforgiveable for an action movie.

In a nutshell, Maximum Risk is one of those motion pictures you forget not long after watching it. It's serviceable in the moment to an extent, yet it's entirely unremarkable, and nothing in the movie sticks out as memorable or outstanding. Action junkies and Van Damme fans may have some fun with this half-hearted effort, but others need not apply.

4.8/10

"What you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"

If Roland Emmerich or Michael Bay took charge of 2002's Signs, they would have delivered a brainless action ride involving a cast of stereotypes battling a conventional alien enemy. Under the guidance of writer-director M. Night Shyamalan, however, Signs is anything but conventional or dumb. Eschewing a blockbuster approach, Shyamalan uses the possibility that we are not alone in the universe as the foundation for an engaging character drama with messages about religious beliefs and faith. It is essentially the low-key flipside to Independence Day, and the film's proceedings are probably closer to what the experience of an alien invasion would be like for most families around the globe. Moreover, Signs is one of the most effectively bone-chilling motion pictures of the noughties - a science fiction horror picture in the classical Hitchcockian mould where less is more.

Set in a small Pennsylvania farming community, the story concerns former reverend Graham Hess (Mel Gibson). After tragically losing his wife, Colleen (Patricia Kalember), in a tragic car accident, Graham no longer has faith and is left to raise his two kids, Morgan (Rory Culkin) and Bo (Abigail Breslin), with the help of his brother, Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix). One morning, the family awakens to find chilling crop circles in their cornfield. While Graham and local police officer Caroline (Cherry Jones) are willing to dismiss the occurrence as the work of pranksters, similar crop signs begin appearing across the planet at a rapid rate. As the phenomenon grips the world and consumes Graham's family, strange events continue to transpire, supporting the nerve-jangling notion that extraterrestrials may have arrived on Earth to stage an attack.

Shyamalan has a gift for careful pacing and precise camerawork, and Signs demonstrates both qualities. Each frame is meticulously composed and visually interesting, and the narrative shifts forward at an unhurried but enthralling pace. The movie is a tad slow by design, and it is directly because of this slow build that Signs is so terrifying since Shyamalan lulls us into a false sense of security. Shyamalan is a master of suspense and tension, as we mostly see ominous shadows, silhouettes or limbs throughout the film, making the big reveal even more of a spine-chilling moment. Indeed, a scene in which Merrill witnesses news footage of one of the aliens is a nerve-shredding "shit your pants" moment, and Merrill's gaping response of terror is contagious. Laudably, Shyamalan accomplishes goosebump-inducing scares like these without requiring blood or gore. James Newton Howard's pitch-perfect original score also deserves praise. The compositions are so simple and low-key, yet that is precisely why they work to such an unsettling extent.

Another key strength of Signs is its sense of humanity. Shyamalan's reputation as a filmmaker is imperfect, but at the height of his powers here, he can scare you one minute and make you cry the next without feeling manipulative. For instance, a late scene involving the characters sitting at a dinner table, believing that the end is near, becomes almost too poignant to bear, thanks to the performances and the dialogue instead of heavy music. Later, following an extremely intense scene, Shyamalan cuts to a flashback illuminating the affecting events on the night when Graham's wife was killed. It's a low-key, dialogue-driven scene, yet it is emotionally fatiguing. Additionally, an underlying sense of humour prevents the movie from becoming serious to a drab extent. If there's a problem with Signs, the digital effects are a tad below par and do not entirely hold up. The alien design is brilliant, but the CGI giving them life is iffy, and one scene towards the end loses some of its effectiveness due to this. While the digital aliens aren't terrible per se, they are too obvious, making them feel out of place in a film otherwise concerned with patience and restraint.

Say whatever you will about Mel Gibson's controversial personal life, but you cannot deny his talent as a performer. Signs spotlights one of Gibson's best and most nuanced performances to date - he looks 100% focused in every frame, and there's never a line or a moment exhibiting any degree of artificiality. Gibson also carries a believable, effortless rapport with Joaquin Phoenix, who's just as impressive as Merrill. Many years separate Gibson and Phoenix, yet buying them as brothers is easy. Against all odds, even the child actors are excellent here - Rory Culkin and a pre-stardom Abigail Breslin (who was five years old at the time of filming) are exquisite. Shyamalan's strength with actors is his ability to strip the Hollywood out of them. Thus, the performances here are not about showboating or Oscar-baiting - instead, the actors all seem real.

Shyamalan is renowned for twist endings, but Signs does not strictly adhere to this trademark. While the climax brings about a revelation, it's not a twist - instead, the ending ingeniously ties together several earlier plot points in an unexpected way that strengthens the whole story's reason for occurring. With this thoughtfulness in the screenplay, Signs is not disposable or forgettable. It's just a bonus that this enthralling film will creep the living hell out of you and coax screams of terror out of the most jaded filmgoer. Without a doubt, Signs is an instant classic with infinite replay value.

9.1/10

"I'm just a regular guy. It makes me sick to see people... who don't have what I've got. Knowing that they have qualities, too. Much more than I do! It's not my fault if I was cut out to be a star. I asked for it. I asked for it, really believed in it. When you're 13, you believe in your dream. Well it came true for me. But I still ask myself today what I've done on this Earth. Nothing! I've done nothing!"

JCVD is essentially Being John Malkovich meets Dog Day Afternoon. It's a stylish heist thriller in a meta-filmmaking wrapper as well as a heartfelt, soul-searching drama that asks us to consider Jean-Claude Van Damme as more than just a dumb hunk of muscle. Back in the '80s and '90s, Van Damme was one of the most reliable action heroes out there, but he soon dropped out of the spotlight and ended up in straight-to-video purgatory. After so many horrible Van Damme movies in recent years, JCVD is a breathe of fresh air. This is easily the star's best movie in over a decade, and it doesn't even feature Van Dammage playing a fictional action hero - instead, he plays a thinly fictionalised version of himself, which (ironically) may prove to be the greatest role of his career.

The Jean-Claude Van Damme at the centre of this story is not a popular, rich action star but rather a washed-up, past-his-prime actor unable to land any decent gigs anymore. Pushing 50, he just lost a custody battle with one of his former wives, and his financial situation is terrible. Trying to get his life back together, Van Damme returns to his hometown in Belgium where he's still recognised as an icon. Unfortunately, during a banking errand he walks right into a robbery in progress, and the local authorities mistake Van Damme as the ringleader of the robbers. As the situation intensifies, Van Damme reflects upon his life and ponders his mistakes, and a dichotomy emerges between his on-screen hero persona and who he is in the real world.

JCVD begins with an amazing long take which tracks Van Damme as he does the type of things he got famous for: killing bad guys, recuing people and doing roundhouse kicks. But this opening sequence flaunts the only action contained within JCVD. One may think that the plot sounds like an ideal setup for a typical Van Damme actioner in which he saves the day and becomes the hero, but JCVD is not your typical Van Damme vehicle - it's not even an action movie at all. Instead, writer-director Mabrouk El Mechri has crafted a character study that observes Van Damme dealing with the types of situations he handles in movies all the time. The concept works remarkably well, and not just as a gimmick or a joke. It does work as a comedy too, though - Van Damme is remarkably game here, and it's clear that he has a sense of humour about himself due to the script's self-referential material (we learn that Van Damme loses a movie role to Steven Seagal, who secured the part by agreeing to cut off his ponytail).

More than anything else, Mabrouk El Mechri's movie seeks to humanise the iconic Van Damme. The film acknowledges the man's personal and professional blunders, yet we're reminded that behind the troubled movie star is a multifaceted human who makes mistakes, just like all of us. As the hostage storyline plays out, flashbacks illuminate recent events in Van Damme's life that paint an affecting portrait of the nature of fame. Reinforcing these themes and messages is a single shot towards the climax that observes Van Damme delivering a stunning direct-to-camera soliloquy in which he bares his soul and laments his shortcomings. While talking, he's lifted above the movie's set until there are studio lights behind him, boldly breaking the fourth wall and tearing down all protective facades to reinforce that Van Damme's words are honest and frank rather than part of a fictional universe. Instead of highlighting how delusional Van Damme has been, JCVD asks us to sympathise with this broken man and root for him to get his life back in order.

Along with the other B-movie action stars like Chuck Norris and Steven Seagal, Jean-Claude Van Damme's acting has always been ridiculed as laughable and wooden. He has starred in countless movies, but the man has never shown any actual acting talent; instead, he's the same one-note hero all the time. In JCVD, on the other hand, Van Damme's performance is a revelation. Clearly more comfortable speaking in his native tongue, he's believable, sympathetic and surprisingly charismatic here, doing far more than just playing a surface-level version of himself. Who would've thought that the Mussels from Brussels' best acting performance would be as himself?

On top of everything, JCVD is a stylish-looking movie - El Mechri and cinematographer Pierre-Yves Bastard (his real name, I swear!) are gifted visual stylists, and they gave the film a distinctive look of bleached-out colours. The flick's only real problem is that the story starts to run out of steam by the second half, and a few scenes set inside the post office grow a tad tedious. This aside, JCVD is an excellent movie, and it should be seen if for no other reason than it contains Jean-Claude Van Damme's most nuanced and powerful performance to date.

8.2/10

"I've got to try and fix this. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

American remakes of foreign films are almost always something to be dreaded, but Contraband is a surprising exception to the rule. Perhaps this is because the movie was directed and produced by Baltasar Kormákur, who starred in and produced the Icelandic flick Reykjavik-Rotterdam on which Contraband is based. More cynical filmgoers may be unimpressed by this gritty little crime-thriller since it's not exactly original or groundbreaking, yet Contraband is satisfying entertainment if you can suspend your pretensions. Its production values are surprisingly solid for such a low-budget film and the storytelling is both involving and gripping, though the script could've used a few more revisions before reaching the production stage.

Formerly a professional career smuggler, Chris Farraday (Wahlberg) chose to abandon the life of a criminal in order to raise his two children with loving wife Kate (Beckinsale) and make an honest living. Chris' serene life is threatened, though, when Kate's idiotic little brother Andy (Jones) botches an expensive cocaine smuggling operation for ruthless drug lord Tim Briggs (Ribisi), who now wants blood. Realising that his family will not be safe until the debt is paid, Chris is forced back into his former line of work, cooking up a money counterfeiting scheme which requires boat passage to Panama. Chris reunites with his former associates to pull off the heist, but nothing goes according to plan.

You cannot accuse writer Aaron Guzikowski of not paying enough attention to the plot here. Standard-issue heist action-thrillers are usually flimsy in terms of story, yet Contraband positively excels - it offers up plenty of unexpected plot twists and turns. The heist should be so simple, yet things keep going wrong and the stakes are continually upped, which is why this film is so engaging. Contraband's key pratfall, however, is that Kate is too much of a clichéd, vulnerable damsel in distress. It would have been more interesting if Kate was Chris' equal; if she encouraged Chris to do the job to save Andy rather than just issuing typical warnings and maintaining that there must be "another way" without offering suggestions. Hell, it would've been even better if Kate played a role in the heist herself. Furthermore, Tim's crime racket is not especially intimidating - Tim's residence (where his daughter lives) appears to be known by everyone, and there don't appear to be many enforcers (none of which guard Tim's house). Chris' friends could have obliterated Tim's syndicate without breaking a sweat, or even just assassinated Tim.

Contraband looks astonishingly assured for a $25 million production, and it's probably thanks to the low budget that the film feels so authentic since it had the freedom to be dark and edgy. Lacking the sugar-coated gloss of an expensive PG-13 blockbuster, the world of crime depicted here is grimy and raw - there's blood, the characters are given realistic leeway to swear, and you truly get the feeling that nobody is safe. Kormákur was right at home with this material - a shootout between criminals and law enforcers in Panama is nail-bitingly tense, and it's impossible to take your eyes away from the screen as the film barrels towards its edge-of-your-seat conclusion. Admittedly, cinematographer Barry Ackroyd (Green Zone, The Hurt Locker) adopted a dreaded shaky-cam routine here, yet it actually works to the film's benefit; the gritty handheld style suits the material. Topping this off, there are a few nice song choices from time to time, and Clinton Shorter's score is top-drawer.

Mark Wahlberg can play roles like this in his sleep. To his credit, though, he didn't actually phone this one in or sleepwalk through the film for the paycheque - he seems fully immersed in the material, and the intensity he brings to the role of Chris is spot-on. Alongside him, Ben Foster and Kate Beckinsale also bring their A game to the roles of Sebastian and Kate (respectively), but it's Giovanni Ribisi who absolutely steals the show as Tim. Ribisi is delightfully hammy and over-the-top, and he clearly had an utter blast playing such a callous kingpin. Sure, Ribisi's performance borders on cartoonish, but he's a pleasure to watch.

To be sure, Contraband has room for improvement, but it delivers proverbial thrills in a satisfying fashion. This is a fun, exciting little thriller with several exhilarating action sequences, and it kept this reviewer rapt for its two-hour duration. Nevertheless, Contraband has little staying power - it's pretty shallow, and it will probably be long forgotten by the end of 2012.

7.1/10

"It's hard to explain, because it's not just a dream. It's a feeling."

Take Shelter is further proof that independent motion pictures are one of the most reliable sources of excellence in today's unstable cinematic climate. Rather than an in-your-face thriller reliant on big special effects, Take Shelter is a quietly involving, harrowing drama with a lot on its mind. The movie meditates on the nature of dreams and faith, explores the way that fear, anger and paranoia can effect one's mental health, magnificently captures today's shaky economic conditions, and even has a few things to say about climate change. Added to this, writer-director Jeff Nichols is a superlative storyteller, and the film spotlights an exceptional leading performance courtesy of Michael Shannon.

Set in the Midwest, construction worker Curtis (Shannon) is largely living the American dream - he has a steady job, and he's fathering a daughter (Stewart) with his beautiful, loving wife Samantha (Chastain). However, Curtis begins enduring apocalyptic dreams of storms, tornadoes and faceless strangers trying to abduct his daughter. As these dreams/visions start seeping into his daytime activities, Curtis grows unsure as to whether he's slowly going mad or having genuine premonitions. While secretly seeking medical help, Curtis also becomes obsessed with the storm shelter in his backyard, spending thousands of dollars the family doesn't even have to expand and improve it. With Curtis' actions growing more erratic, he starts to alienate his family and friends. Nevertheless, Curtis is determined to work to prevent the catastrophic doomsday scenarios brewing inside of his mind.

At face value, Take Shelter seems like a psychological thriller with disaster film overtones, yet the movie is far more substantive and thoughtful - it's predominantly a portrait of developing madness which contains a few terrifying disaster theatrics to assist this agenda. In a sense, Nichols' movie has a certain M. Night Shyamalan quality to it, as it possesses the same cadence and spirit of something like 2002's Signs. Not to mention, Nichols' storytelling relies on mounting intensity and the unpredictability of coming events. Perhaps what's most interesting about Take Shelter is that it's not exactly about whether or not Curtis is mad, but rather about how Curtis must come to terms with what's happening to him.

From minute one, Nichols places us into the head of Curtis, allowing us to experience his chilling visions alongside the confused protagonist. We can understand the anxiety that Curtis endures as he receives scorn and scowling from the community while working to do what he believes is right, no matter the cost (financial or otherwise). Also commendable is the script's treatment of Curtis - he's not just a crazy person but a genuinely scared and confused family man. Thus, he tries to hide his problems from his wife and secretively seeks help (he even visits his mother who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at his age, and borrows a book about mental illness from the library) as he works on the tornado shelter to address every possible meaning behind his harrowing dreams. Take Shelter is, indeed, a terrific demonstration of a character-driven narrative.

It may be a low-budget indie, but Take Shelter possesses utterly gorgeous visuals. Adam Stone's cinematography skilfully captures the beautiful natural landscapes and the dream sequences are magnificently atmospheric, with seamless digital effects resulting in a number of surreal, scary images that'll remain embedded in your mind for days. Also effective is David Wingo's low-key score; it's well-judged and effective, and it perfectly matches the happenings on-screen. However, while Nichols' direction for the most part makes for compelling viewing, the movie at times feels overdrawn. For instance, an extended scene of Samantha pleading with Curtis in the tornado shelter is prolonged to melodramatic proportions, and will probably leave you confused rather than intrigued about what will happen next.

Michael Shannon received an Oscar nomination for his performance in Revolutionary Road, and is highly regarded for his work on Boardwalk Empire. Believe it: Shannon deserves to be a leading man, as his performance here is remarkable from top to bottom. He's the kind of actor able to express pages of dialogue with merely a look, and convey subtle changes in mood and awareness in a way that veteran actors can only dream of. Best of all, Shannon gives Curtis genuine three-dimensionality. There's never a moment in the film in which Shannon feels false or unbelievable, and the fact that he didn't earn an Oscar nomination is one of the worst oversights in recent memory. Likewise, Jessica Chastain (who received an Oscar nomination for The Help) is fantastic as Samantha. Not just a one-note harpy constantly yelling at her husband, Chastain plays the role as someone who loves Curtis and is willing to adapt to the worst of conditions. The steadiness she emanates serves to make Curtis look all the more erratic.

Take Shelter would've achieved dizzying heights of excellence if it were a tad tauter, but it's hard to hold too much against this remarkable film. It's full of striking imagery, and the stunning visuals are mixed with provocative themes. As the icing on top, it winds down with an ambiguous ending that defies expectation and is destined to keep movie-goers talking for a long time to come. Let the interpretations and film scholar essay writing commence...

8.5/10

"Though our story is at an end, our poet's is not; for his monument is everliving. Not of stone but of verse. And it shall be remembered. As long as words are made of breath. And breath of life."

Roland Emmerich has based his career around pure spectacle - his résumé includes the likes of Independence Day, Godzilla, The Day After Tomorrow and 2012, all of which provide fun but dramatically weak visions of large-scale mayhem. 2011's Anonymous is a radical departure from the director's comfort zone, as it represents Emmerich's first attempt at a drama-focused human story. Scripted by John Orloff, the film is a bold rendering of a controversial conspiracy theory which asserts that Shakespeare was a fraud. Rather than a Dan Brown-esque mystery involving present-day characters following clues and scrutinising the theory, Anonymous is a historical period drama exploring the tumultuous royal and political climate during the end of Queen Elizabeth's reign. While the film is brought down by an array of issues, its audacious nature and the lack of brainless Emmerich-style spectacle is to be admired.

Set centuries ago in Elizabethan England, struggling playwright Ben Jonson (Armesto) encounters political resistance as he seeks to make his mark on the local theatre scene. Meanwhile, nobleman Edward de Vere (Ifans) writes plays in secret but cannot have his name attached to them in fear of damage to his reputation. Longing to hear his words be performed, de Vere chooses Ben to be his front man, asking Jonson to stage his plays and take credit for the writing. After a performance of de Vere's Henry V which beguiles spectators, buffoonish actor William Shakespeare (Spall) decides to steal the credit from Jonson without de Vere's blessing. Left with little choice, de Vere continues to deliver his plays and sonnets to Shakespeare, who soon becomes rich and famous as a result.

Anonymous' biggest problem is its messy, jumbled structure. Emmerich jumps around the timeline too much without the aid of title cards, making the narrative difficult to follow. For instance, after initially transitioning into the Elizabethan-era story, the film heads back five years (via the lone title card), and subsequently leaps back even further at certain points. All of the chaotic back and forth becomes so bewildering that by the time we return to the opening sequence, it's hard to discern where we are in the narrative. Exacerbating this problem is the film's studious lack of humanity and substance. Emmerich's shortcomings with drama are pinpointed with laser precision here as pretty much the entire film is drama. Consequently, pacing is uneven. Anonymous sparkles the most during its opening and closing scenes, when actor Derek Jacobi stands on a bare stage to deliver monologues with engaging command and grace. Perhaps the entire film should have been framed around Jacobi's words, with the story halting to allow the performer to present evidence or explain the mechanics of certain vague plot machinations. It probably would've seemed like a lazy device, yet the film would've at least been enrapturing and easy to follow.

Dramatic issues aside, Anonymous is a tremendous success in terms of summoning a feel for time and place. Emmerich immaculately recreated the period on a scant $30 million budget, with Oscar-nominated costume design and lavish sets (aided by a bit of CGI) elevating the sense of authenticity. Anonymous lacks the glossy romanticism of something like Shakespeare in Love - this is a grimy, dark, disgusting vision of Elizabethan England complete with grotty interiors, mud-splattered streets and yellow teeth. But Emmerich was restricted by the PG-13 rating, which forbade him from being more graphic or explicit (the flick is especially tame in terms of shootings and stabbings). Furthermore, the film tries to hammer home its theories to such an extent that Shakespeare is depicted as a talentless, illiterate, stupid buffoon. It's cheap characterisation; certainly audacious, but the depiction feels hyperbolic.

Leading the cast is an outstanding Rhys Ifans, who's never anything less than convincing as Edward de Vere. However, trouble arises due to the casting of Jamie Campbell Bower as Edward in his younger years. There's supposed to be forty years separating the two versions of the role, yet the 42-year-old Ifans looks in his mid-30s while the 22-year-old Bower looks no younger than 20. It's a peculiar casting decision, and some viewers may not even realise that these two are playing the same character (now that's a red flag...). On a more positive note, Vanessa Redgrave bursts with gravitas as Queen Elizabeth - the actress truly threw herself into the role, and her performance is outstanding. The one who stands out the most, though, is Sebastian Armesto as Ben Jonson. Armesto looks perpetually focused, and every line seems completely authentic. It's a marvellous performance, and he lights up the film whenever he's on-screen.

Cynical historians will probably suffer coronaries as they clamber to debunk screenwriter Orloff's theories about William Shakespeare, but Anonymous is fascinating if you're open-minded enough... And if you're lenient enough towards the picture's gaping problems.

6.0/10

"You people are working stiffs, clock-punchers. Easily replaced."

With Brett Ratner at the helm and a cast like this, it should come as no surprise to learn that Tower Heist is incredibly dumb. It's stupid on such a monumental scale that you're likely to yell out "Oh come on!" at the screen on several occasions. Indeed, this is a heist movie without the intelligence of Ocean's Eleven or The Italian Job - instead, Ratner merely aimed to throw a few big stars into a slickly-produced action-comedy to entertain the masses. Astonishingly, the finished product is more fun than it had any right to be. Say what you will about Ratner, but he knows how to make a good-looking movie and he's skilled at creating enjoyable cinematic junk food.

Josh Kovacs (Stiller) is the building manager at an exclusive New York City high-rise known as The Tower. Inhabiting the penthouse is the powerful and wealthy Arthur Shaw (Alda), who commands a lot of respect from the staff. However, the FBI are onto Shaw's case, and soon arrest him on the charge of securities fraud. As it turns out, Shaw's entire portfolio is fake, and all of the money invested in him - including the pension fund of The Tower's workers - has vanished, shocking Josh and his colleagues. With Shaw under guarded house arrest, Josh sets out to make things right, dreaming up a scheme to steal the $20 million that he's convinced is hidden in Shaw's apartment. To do this, Josh recruits co-workers Charlie (Affleck), Enrique (Peña) and Odessa (Sidibe), as well as failed Wall Street business Mr. Fitzhugh (Broderick) and petty criminal Slide (Murphy).

Tower Heist has a lot of glaring problems in the logistics department. Without going into specifics, the hijinks that ensue as the gang pull off the heist are beyond the unbelievable (neither a window washing platform nor an elevator can support the weight of a car). And there are a number of holes (Josh fakes a court order but how the fuck did he manage to pull it off so credibly?) and stupid plot devices (the guards are distracted by a Playboy magazine for hours and never look at their monitors while the heist is happening?), not to mention the characters are shallow and make little sense (Charlie changes sides a lot without any logic or reason, and Slide and Odessa's flirtations lead nowhere). There are several other plot elements which fail to sit right, too. Indeed, Tower Heist is tailor-made for viewers who don't care about cohesiveness, coherency or consistency. To its credit, though, the script does take a few unexpected directions - the romantic subplot between Josh and an FBI agent is handled in a surprisingly unconventional fashion, and the film's ending is not as realistically contrived as it could've been. Nevertheless, the film needed major rewrites before going in front of the cameras.

Brett Ratner is hated far and wide, yet the director is not nearly as bad as his reputation implies. His films are usually cheery and fun (see the Rush Hour series), and Tower Heist proves that he's still able to create serviceable, crowd-pleasing escapism. Scoring a satisfying amount of laughs as it goes about its business, the picture moves with a commendably fleet foot, entertaining and pleasing for pretty much every frame of its 100-minute runtime. This is essentially the director's answer to the Ocean's Eleven trilogy, melding the intrigue and ensemble dynamics of those pictures with Ratner's signature action-comedy style. The combo results in an infectious energy, and the rock-solid production values combined with an armrest-clenching climax is the icing on top. But while Tower Heist is funny, the script irritatingly cuts a few corners. For instance, in one scene Slide locks the rest of the gang on a rooftop in the snow and tells them to pick the lock. Suddenly, there's an abrupt transition to the next scene when they're all inside. Huh?

A lot of critics have praised Eddie Murphy's performance here, and for good reason. At last, after doing too many dumb kids' movies and low-brow comedies, Murphy has returned to form with Tower Heist, playing a smart-ass in the funniest performance he's delivered in at least a decade. It's wonderful to see Murphy having fun with such a politically incorrect role that allows him plenty of leeway for one-liners. However the PG-13 rating does restrict the content, and one can't help but imagine how fantastic Murphy could've been with the freedom to have a potty mouth. Ben Stiller and Casey Affleck, meanwhile, are somewhat unmemorable here, though Matthew Broderick and Michael Peña are both an absolute riot. Acclaimed Precious star Gabourey Sidibe even shows up in the film, putting on a hammy Jamaican accent to great comedic effect. Also impressive is Alan Alda, who capably sells both sides of Shaw's persona: a gentle grandfather, and an evil schemer.

In its early life, Tower Heist was pitched by Eddie Murphy as an urban version of Ocean's Eleven starring the likes of Chris Rock, Dave Chappelle and Eddie Griffin. But the script was eventually transformed into the blue-collar alternative to Steven Soderbergh's ritzy movies. The judge is out about which version would've worked better, but, at the end of the day, Tower Heist is a lot of fun, even if it's not as brilliantly-constructed or as memorable as cinema's best heist movies.

6.1/10

"If you don't do this, he's dead..."

It's easy to make incorrect assumptions about 2011's Killer Elite, as it comes across as just another generic Jason Statham actioner with the usual assortment of fisticuffs and violence. But in reality, this is an intense spy thriller with an '80s setting and a '70s action sensibility, and it's purportedly based on a true story. Indeed, Killer Elite is an adaptation of Sir Ranulph Fiennes' 1991 novel The Feather Men, which claims to be true but has sparked ongoing controversy about its veracity. Even if Fiennes' book is fictional, Killer Elite remains a well-made piece of action entertainment; a full-throttle machismo fest with more story and character interaction than less competent blockbusters. It's a completely empty technical exercise lacking in substance, but it's smarter than anticipated.

Ex-special ops agent Danny Bryce (Statham) is a mercenary for hire under the guidance of veteran soldier-of-fortune Hunter (De Niro). Danny decides to leave the business following a hit in Mexico, and retires to rural Australia seeking a more peaceful life. However, Danny soon learns that a vengeful sheik in the Middle-East has kidnapped Hunter, and will only let him go if Danny carries out a dangerous assignment. In exchange for Hunter's life, Danny has to track down, obtain confessions from and kill the former SAS operatives responsible for murdering the sheik's sons. As Danny travels the globe with a ragtag team orchestrating the assassinations, the ruthless, idealistic Spike (Owen) sets out to stop the killers. Spike is a member of a clandestine group known as The Feather Men, who operate in the shadows to protect their best interests.

Killer Elite comes up unmistakably short in terms of humanity and substance. Its runtime is pretty hefty at almost two hours, yet the film never lets us get to know any of these characters - instead, they go through the motions with a bare minimum of development and with only one or two distinguishable traits. And that's an issue, because the main players are fundamentally villains and we don't really have anyone to root for. As a result, the razzle-dazzle never invokes any emotion or feeling, rendering the film enjoyable in the moment but completely hollow. To be fair, there is an attempt to bestow Danny with dimension by introducing a love interest and touching upon the sense of assassin guilt he feels, but this stuff is only partially successful; it never gains the full traction or gravity it could've achieved in defter hands. At the very least, though, Killer Elite is more focused on plot twists and fascinating espionage antics than brainless 'splosions, maintaining interest despite the lack of emotional investment and only very rarely calling for a suspension of disbelief.

From a visual standpoint, Killer Elite is a very slick and cool movie indeed, with tag-teaming cinematographers Simon Duggan and Alain Duplantier maintaining an accomplished sense of style from start to finish. Furthermore, the film evokes the 1980s time period with subtle believability, as the frame is delicately permeated with '80s-specific background details rather than beating us over the head with stereotypes. Director Gary McKendry also seems to be aware that overzealous CGI cannot match the raw testosterone of real stunt work and impressive choreography. Accordingly, the practically-achieved action set-pieces are grounded and bursting with excitement. McKendry is no John Woo, but his action sequences are fluid and fun (not to mention agreeably violent), though the shaky camerawork is a bit irritating from time to time.

Leading the cast are Jason Statham and Clive Owen, who imbue the material with more credibility than someone like Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger would've offered. Statham assumed his proverbial tough-as-nails routine here, but at least he's good at what he does, and he has a stronger screen presence than more subpar action stars. Owen (sporting a hilariously hammy moustache) impresses as well - he's not an especially versatile performer, but he is badass and watchable. Probably the biggest standout is Dominic Purcell of Prison Break fame (sporting a moustache of the handlebar variety) who plays one of Danny's cronies. Purcell is a good fit for his character, as he has the right brutish look and attitude. Meanwhile, Robert De Niro has more minor role than the marketing campaign suggested. He apparently spent a total of 10 days on the film, so he only pops up here and there, though he does participate in some awesome action and he's better here than most critics seem to think.

In many ways, Killer Elite is a throwback movie - it harkens back to an era when action-thrillers actually had balls; when muscular bravado was mixed with violent R-rated action to overcome deficiencies in the depth and storytelling department. While the production is not quite "elite", this is a better-than-average action film which delivers satisfying thrills and action on an impressively consistent basis. Sometimes, that's just enough to warrant at least a mild recommendation.

6.8/10

"See, but... that's bullshit. That's what everyone has been telling me since the beginning. "Oh, you're gonna be okay," and "Oh, everything's fine," and like, it's not... It makes it worse... that no one will just come out and say it. Like, "hey man, you're gonna die.""

It's not often that you hear the words "cancer" and "comedy" in the same breathe. After all, cancer is a heartbreakingly serious illness, and it would be insensitive to mine the topic for cheap laughs. Enter 2011's 50/50, a wonderful film which manages to extract humour from situations that occur due to cancer while at the same time treating the delicate subject seriously and with utmost sensitivity. How is it possible to make people laugh without being insensitive? How can tears be wrung without being mawkish? How can filmmakers make people laugh and cry without feeling calculated? It's such a daunting proposition that even the most skilled writer wouldn't even dare to try it. And yet, 50/50 - which was written by an actual cancer survivor - succeeds at these ostensibly impossible goals, making the process of combining honest-to-goodness laughs with fatiguing emotion look incredibly easy.

Public radio writer Adam (Gordon-Levitt) is just a regular young guy; he exercises frequently, he avoids drugs and smoking, and he generally lives his life in a straight and sensible fashion. Dating beautiful modern artist Rachael (Dallas Howard) and not even thirty yet, Adam becomes numbed with shock when he's diagnosed with a form of spinal cancer which requires chemotherapy. As his intensive treatment begins, Adam seeks comfort from slacker friend Kyle (Rogen) and student therapist Katie (Kendrick) while Rachael finds herself ill-equipped to deal with such a tragic state of affairs.

On the surface, 50/50 sounds like superficial movie-of-the-week territory - the type that disregards subtlety to jerk as many tears as possible without earning the privilege. But writer Will Reiser and director Jonathan Levine eschewed such easy routes, deciding against stereotypes and intrusive musical cues in favour of a more effectively understated approach, trusting in the saddening reality of the situation and the sympathetic, endearing characters to give the film its emotion. Yes, 50/50 makes you cry, but the emotional responses come as the result of real heartbreaking events rather than a heavy-handed score. Nothing is more affecting than playing on the universally relatable love between mother and son, or the daunting reality check which comes when an amiable person dies. As Reiser based the script on his own experience with cancer, the picture possesses a phenomenal lived-in quality that's rarely matched. Yet, the film is also able to skilfully navigate from pathos to unforced comedy. And none of the humour is cheap; laughs are gleaned as a result of genuinely witty character interaction. All of the laughs are well-judged, with Levine and Reiser maintaining a bright spirit amid the sadness, capturing both the light and the dark of this depressing situation.

Admittedly, 50/50 could only end one of two ways and it has a few clichéd surface details, and this fools us into perhaps thinking that the film is less skilful than it is. But it's the storytelling and Reiser's screenwriting which allows the film to feel entirely believable rather than a retread of familiar territory. Adam's mother (Huston) overreacts to everything, Adam's father (Houde) suffers from Alzheimer's disease and there's a love interest subplot, yet all of it fits into the story naturally and nothing is overplayed. Indeed, the dramatic structure is practically invisible. It's also fortunate that Levine's direction is perfectly-judged. 50/50 is not a drab, one-note drama - unexpectedly, it's eminently enjoyable and watchable all the way through; a testament to Reiser's engaging writing and the agreeable tone devised by Levine.

In the lead role of Adam, Joseph Gordon-Levitt again shows that he's one of the best young actors working in the industry today, and he comes across as the most human he's ever been in a movie. Gordon-Levitt was up to the challenge of tackling every aspect of this multifaceted character, effortlessly mixing detachment and vulnerability to play a regular guy unexpectedly confronted with his own mortality. The actor's dramatic scenes are especially raw and heart-wrenching. Fortunately, Gordon-Levitt shares excellent chemistry with Seth Rogen, who was friends with writer Will Reiser for years and was literally asked to play himself here. Rogen never stretches his abilities as an actor here, yet he's never been more believable and mature on-screen, proving that he can handle both serious and comedic material. The banter between Rogen and Gordon-Levitt positively sparkles, too. In the supporting cast, Anna Kendrick is sweetly endearing as nervous young therapist Katie, and Bryce Dallas Howard makes for a believable Rachael. Anjelica Huston is another scene-stealer as Adam's mother, and anyone with a mum will be amazed by how authentic she seems. Small joys are also derived from Philip Baker Hall and Matt Frewer playing a pair of cancer patients who befriend Adam in the hospital.

Instead of leaving you worn out and depressed, 50/50 will leave you with a good feeling. And it doesn't achieve this through cheap, manipulative methods; it's earned with honesty. The film is both a powerful drama that'll make you laugh and a skilful comedy that'll make you cry, but it at no point feels tonally schizophrenic or uneven. The cast is flawless and the writing & direction is superlative, showing that it's possible to make a thoroughly engaging picture about a lead character with cancer.

9.5/10

"Welcome to Fright Night. For real."

In 1985's Fright Night, Peter Vincent pointed out that '80s movie-goers aren't interested in seeing vampires (or vampire killers) anymore; "All they want to see is slashers running around in ski masks, hacking up young virgins." In 2011, these words ring ever truer. The Twilight series has expunged any interest and menace that vampires once had, and not a lot of imagination or thought goes into today's successful horror movies. To reinvigorate cinematic bloodsuckers back in 1985, the original Fright Night employed a meta, postmodern approach to vampires, and it succeeded marvellously. While 2011's Fright Night failed to do the same thing for the noughties, it's better than expected; a rare type of remake which takes off in new directions as opposed to slavishly sticking to the original template. Retaining the same basic premise, spirit, characters and comedy-horror tone of the 1985 film while updating the background details, era and setting, director Craig Gillespie and writer Marti Noxon have produced a worthy tribute to its forefather that's unafraid to have its own voice.

A high school senior living in a desert community on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Charley Brewster (Yelchin) is plagued by typical adolescent dilemmas, maintaining a relationship with girlfriend Amy (Poots) while enjoying newfound acceptance with the "in crowd" and distancing himself from childhood best friend Ed (Mintz-Plasse). When locals start going missing under mysterious circumstances, Ed alerts Charley that his charismatic new next-door neighbour Jerry (Farrell) is in fact a vampire. Convinced through evidence gathering and first-hand experiences, Charley seeks advice from Vegas occult showman Peter Vincent (Tennant) who has posited himself as a vampire expert. With Jerry setting his sights on both Amy and Charley's mother (Collette), Charley begins planning an attack, seeking to uncover Jerry's weakness before the undead vampire cleans out the entire neighbourhood with his fangs.

Approaching Fright Night with the terrific 1985 film in mind would be improper, as this update is its own independent entity. It borrows a few beats from its predecessor and the story set-up is a bit familiar, but screenwriter Noxon plots a fresh path at about the halfway point, leading to an enjoyable reimagining of the original film's proceedings. And this is, of course, the mark of a good remake: using the source as a springboard to land in unexpected destinations. Screenwriter Noxon is a long-time veteran of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV show, and she transferred to Fright Night the elements which made that series such a hit: smart dialogue and postmodern wit mixed with genuine horror and creepy imagery. Heck, there are even pop culture nods within the stinging dialogue, including a jab against Twilight. But the script is not airtight, as there are a few head-scratching holes. For instance, why don't any of the characters buy a UV lamp to fight the vampires? And how did Peter get Charley's phone number?

Craig Gillespie's résumé only boasts the likes of Lars and the Real Girl and 2007's dreadful Mr. Woodcock, making him an odd choice to helm this remake. But Gillespie's handling of Noxon's script is astonishingly assured and strong, smoothly guiding the action, horror and comedic scenes. The climax is particularly impressive; it's a badass action scene which raises the pulse and keeps us on the edge of our seats. There are a few instances of shoddy CGI, but the visual effects are otherwise convincing. Javier Aguirresarobe's cinematography is sumptuous as well (even though Aguirresarobe photographed two Twilight movies...), while the moody score by Ramin Djawadi represents an effectively atmospheric aural accompaniment (even though it's a tad on the generic side, and is not a patch on the original film's outstandingly memorable score).

Fright Night is also available in 3-D; a rather baffling creative decision. The 3-D is inessential, yet the movie was at least shot with proper 3-D cameras. Furthermore, the image is bright enough to endure the dimming which comes with 3-D glasses, and the multiple dimensions are used well to bring depth and convey space. Added to this, there are a few moments in which objects (or blood splatter) look to be popping out of the screen. Major kudos to Gillespie and Aguirresarobe for not just sloppily using the extra dimension as a way to inflate box office profits.

Fortunately, the acting is solid right across the board. Unlikely hero Anton Yelchin works extremely well as Charley - his baby face makes him believable as a former dweeb and a romantic lead, and he doesn't look out of place when faced with more action-oriented elements. Yelchin has a great deal of charm and is an agreeable screen presence, which helps let this remake work as well as it does. Imogen Poots, meanwhile, is terrific alongside Yelchin, and the two share marvellous chemistry. Fright Night is Colin Farrell's show, however; he sunk his teeth into the character of Jerry, creating a compelling, amusing and at times frightening villain. David Tennant is equally valuable as Peter Vincent, abandoning the more grandfatherly version of the character from the 1985 film to play a mix of Russell Brand and Criss Angel. Tennant is no Roddy McDowell, but he lightens up the film whenever he's around, providing energy and comic relief.

Admittedly, Fright Night doesn't work as well as its forerunner, as it replaces hammy, cheesy old-school charm with slick production values. It's almost a given in this day and age, but the heart and flavour of the original film is lost, and the replacement aura is more on the generic side. However, of course, it's up to personal taste and opinion to decide which version is superior. When all's said and done, though, 2011's Fright Night is fun and entertaining; an R-rated vampire comedy-horror flick which will appeal to teens without insulting more mature film-goers.

6.8/10