Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"There's nothing heroic about what I do. It's dirty work."

Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) is an ingenious little Norwegian import, a found footage production with sturdy visual effects, convincing acting and a crafty script. It's a mockumentary willing to go above and beyond the call of duty, taking the time to build a rich sense of universe lore and introduce a thoroughly fascinating central character. Found footage pictures often grow banal due to their deadly serious disposition, which is why the genre has ostensibly passed its use-by date. It's also why Troll Hunter is so wonderfully refreshing, as it puts a realistic found footage spin on a fantastical premise while simultaneously being playfully jokey. Director/co-writer André Øvredal does not set out to bore us with straight horror; he wants us to have a good time with this agreeably tongue-in-cheek ride, providing a lively, sorely needed jolt for this much-maligned subgenre.

When evidence arises in the Norwegian town of Volda that unorthodox bear poaching is occurring, college students Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), Johanna (Johanna Mørck) and Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) grab their filmmaking gear to conduct journalistic research. Their expedition soon leads them to the enigmatic Hans (Otto Jespersen), and they start pressing the gruff man for questioning. As it turns out, the grizzled Hans is not a bear poacher but a troll hunter working for the covert Troll Security Service organisation, who is tasked with controlling any trolls who wander past their boundaries. Hans accepts the students as observers, leading them around the country as they learn about troll mythology and stumble upon various monsters. But Thomas and his crew are also ignorant and refuse to realise the danger that will come from their filmmaking attention.

The history of the trolls and the Troll Security Service is pure gold, and it is clear that a lot of thought went into devising the flick's internal lore. For instance, since it is commonly accepted that trolls turn to stone in sunlight, Hans carries around a UV gun and has UV lights mounted on his jeep to combat them. The script even provides a scientific explanation to plausibly explain why the sun turns trolls to stone. Furthermore, Øvredal projects the film's mythology onto everyday findings to amusing effect. In one scene, for example, the characters find a typical open landscape beset with rocks, which, as it turns out, is actually a troll battlefield. Øvredal healthily retains this splendid sense of humour throughout, and it's small details like these that give Troll Hunter more depth than other pictures of this ilk.

Key to Troll Hunter's success is the character of Hans. A bit like Quint from Jaws, Hans is a gruff old bastard who has seen his fair share of action and has grown weary of his unrewarding trade. In a less skilful movie, there would not be any believable motive for Hans to allow college kids to film him, but Øvredal realises the importance of making us believe Hans's decision, and it works. See, troll hunting is, in fact, a drab profession - Hans is merely an unsung hero whose phenomenal achievements are shielded from the general public. Controversial Norwegian comedian Otto Jespersen is a perfect fit for this character, as he looks the part and has the right persona to match. Jespersen works particularly well because of his nonchalant attitude - Hans clearly does not give a shit, treating life-threatening battles as if he's just mowing the lawn. For example, after putting on ridiculous-looking armour to protect himself as he prepares to kill a troll, Hans merely quips, "I'm so sick of this shit."

On top of being genuinely hilarious and enjoyably tongue-in-cheek, Troll Hunter is truly exciting and interesting when it wants to be. The troll designs are undeniably hammy, yet the digital effects that bring them to life are incredibly vivid and realistic, allowing us to believe that these mythical creatures exist. Øvredal is a skilled filmmaker, too, as the various troll encounters are excellent, especially the awe-inspiring climax. But while the film is a rollicking good time for most of its duration, the final act suffers a tonal identity crisis. Øvredal suddenly takes certain things a tad too seriously, abandoning the light-hearted approach for no viable reason. As a result, Troll Hunter's new car smell wanes and it starts to feel as if the premise has been stretched out a bit too much. The tonal change also leads to a rather unsatisfying ending, though the brilliant post-movie captions close the door on a more positive note.

Troll Hunter's American remake rights were promptly snatched up even before it was released in the U.S.A., which is nonsensical. The transition from Norway to America is an impossible proposition since the story and all of the troll mythology are specific to Norway's cultural heritage, and there is no American equivalent. Mark my words: you must watch the original film before it is bastardised. Troll Hunter may be subtitled, but this low-budget gem is indispensable. It's easily the best, most inventive found footage movie in years.

7.9/10

"Remember rule number one: you are responsible for your house guest. I'm your house guest."

Safe House is a familiar-feeling action yarn about conspiracy, corruption and splintered idealism, essentially a grab-bag of elements from various recent spy thrillers. It's bolstered, though, by a strong cast and a director who has infused the clichéd narrative with immense energy and verve. With that said, though, Safe House is merely a good actioner which had the potential to achieve greatness. It's a lot of fun while locked in adrenaline-pumping mode, yet the picture grinds to a halt whenever its attention is turned to the standard-order political mumbo jumbo. Indeed, the film evidently believes that it's more intelligent than it is.

CIA operator Matt Weston (Reynolds) yearns for real action, but is posted to a slow-paced station in South Africa where he's merely a "housekeeper" for a safe house. When notorious traitor Tobin Frost (Washington) surrenders himself to the American authorities in Cape Town after spending the better part of a decade selling classified information, he is escorted to Weston's safe house for questioning. Almost immediately, the safe house is stormed by armed mercenaries seeking to kidnap Frost and obtain the intel he's carrying. Scared and longing to prove himself, Weston exits the safe house with Frost, and turns to his bosses for guidance as he hits the volatile streets looking for a new hiding spot. As the pair work their way around the continent, questions are raised about who to trust, and the naïve young Weston finds his entire life overturned by the frantic ordeal as he works to bring in Frost by any means necessary.

Before diving into the nitty gritty, Safe House sets some time aside to develop Matt's character, observing his serene everyday life with girlfriend Ana (Arnezeder) before he gets caught up in the narrative's perilous machinations. While this stuff isn't brilliant, screenwriter David Guggenheim and director Daniel Espinosa deserve credit for showing an interest in character building, and the attempt feels genuine instead of merely perfunctory. By allowing us a window into Matt's life, the stakes are automatically upped when the shit hits the fan. Unfortunately, though, the movie soon starts introducing a selection of lazy plot devices including moles and secret files, and the pace is ground to a halt whenever the script concerns itself with such a clichéd routine. This stuff is too easy, and the movie wastes too much time on it. This leads to a third act which begins to fall apart - interest wanes once Frost's package is revealed, leading to a conclusion that (while admittedly tying into Frost's psychological mind games) doesn't entirely gel. It's almost as if Guggenheim literally ran out of ideas and was struggling for an easy way out. Sure, the ending will probably satisfy the casual action fans, but Safe House should have tussled with bigger ideas. As a result, the picture is merely a fun action yarn rather than an action-thriller for the ages.

Swedish director Espinosa clearly took his directorial cues from Tony Scott, as his cinemagraphic technique and general "look" is highly reminiscent of Scott's output. In other words, Espinosa and cinematographer Oliver Wood adopted a routine of fast cuts, shaky-cam and close-ups, which at times is pronounced to the point of distraction and queasiness. Consequently, while a lot of action scenes are pulse-pounding and nail-biting, others are hard to comprehend and result in motion sickness. Espinosa also opted for a visible noise structure which coats the image (another Tony Scott trademark), lending the frame an often gritty, documentary-like style and adding tremendous immediacy. Safe House is a visceral action film, unafraid to show stabbings, bullet wounds and neck snaps set to a booming sound mix. Credit must also go to the production team for not going overboard with their R-rating. Instead of excessive blood splatter, Espinosa and his crew went for a more realistic approach; content to have an R-rating as part of the film's DNA, meaning its tone is exceptionally dark and it's horrific without being exploitative (innocent women are even killed in cold blood).

The cast contains such big names as Vera Farmiga, Brendan Gleeson and Sam Shepard, but Safe House is the Ryan Reynolds and Denzel Washington show. They are the primary players, and it's this match-up that will entice viewers to investigate the flick. Fortunately, the two are an engaging pair who share solid chemistry. As Denzel also executive produced the picture, he didn't phone in this performance; he completely convinces as Tobin Frost with a performance suggesting deep reserves of knowledge while also coming off as wise and world-weary. And as Weston, Ryan Reynolds is surprisingly excellent. Ditching the goofy, comedic antics which characterise the star, Reynolds was not afraid to get his hands dirty, and he plays anxiousness extraordinarily well. He gets believably roughed-up, involving himself in various violent conflicts as his handsome features are scarred. Moreover, he does a fine job of making us care about what happens to him. The rest of the cast, on the other hand, are pretty unremarkable. They're not bad per se as their intensity cannot be faulted, but they're never given the chance to test their acting chops.

Despite a few pacing issues and despite its unmemorable plot twists, Safe House is an enjoyable little actioner. Its visceral episodes are delightful for the most part, culminating with a terrifically-executed final showdown that almost overcomes its preposterous nature. A more thoughtful creative team could have gone deeper and provided a thoughtful masterpiece with the same premise, but the movie we've received is an entertaining enough effort that's definitely worth investigating for its best action moments.

7.0/10

"Either someone miraculously healed themselves, or someone is not who they say they are."

Whether accidental or not, when Bill Lancaster was writing John Carpenter's The Thing a full two decades ago, he also designed an ideal set-up for a prequel/remake. Considering how many classic horror films have been remade in recent years, it's frankly surprising that it has taken so long for someone to take advantage of the prequel possibilities left behind by Lancaster. See, in 1982's The Thing, the characters find the charred ruins of a Norwegian research base, so 2011's The Thing explores what happened at that Norwegian camp. Thus, while this flick (annoyingly) shares the same title as the 1982 original, this is a chronological precursor to Carpenter's film rather than just a lazy remake. The resulting picture is a solid, enjoyable monster yarn which welcomely displays great respect and reverence for the film that spawned it. It even kicks off with a retro Universal Studios logo from the 1980s to establish the tone.

Set in 1982, young palaeontologist Kate Lloyd (Winstead) is hired to augment a team of scientists at an Antarctica research facility. A group of Norwegians led by Dr. Sander Halverson (Thomsen) have discovered something peculiar: the remains of a spacecraft, and a biological specimen frozen in the ice. Against Kate's advice, the frozen alien is brought back to base, with the team looking to examine and sample the history-making creature before transporting it home. It isn't long, though, before the alien breaks out of its icy coffin and begins running amok around the camp. Kate also discovers that the creature is capable of imitating any life-form, including humans. Any one of the researchers could in fact be the otherworldly interloper, and thus Kate sets out to discern where the alien is hiding. If the thing escapes Antarctica and reaches civilisation, it could bring about a cataclysmic world event.

The deck was absolutely stacked against this remake. Writer Eric Heisserer and director Matthijs van Heijningen Jr. faced an uphill battle, tasked with reverently redoing the original film's basic routine while adding enough fresh ideas to the franchise's mythology. Follow the exact same path as the original with psychological terror and identical events, and it runs the risk of being labelled as too derivative and disposable. On the other hand, too much new stuff could lead to it being too over-the-top or offensive to fans. To their credit, the makers did an adequate job of staying between the two extremes. Viewers have complained that this prequel too closely replicates the original, but Heisserer and Heijningen introduce enough unique situations, ideas and events to make the flick worthwhile. Plus, what else could the filmmakers have done? It's implied that the events of Carpenter's original film just happened in the Norwegian camp. Stop being so cynical.

The Thing had to work towards a pre-established conclusion, but the fun lies in how it gets to that point. Heisserer and Heijningen were clearly in tune with this rule, so they worked to provide a worthwhile, engaging horror ride. And, thank goodness, they did a good job. Rather than being filled with dumb wall-to-wall creature violence, this prequel is surprisingly retrained, exhibiting patience and an interest in maintaining enthralling tension. Indeed, like its predecessor, the constant and lingering question of which character is the creature becomes a constant source of intensity which is played upon quite a bit. And when things begin to fall apart, it's edge-of-your-seat stuff. However, the creature does seem too aggressive and vicious from time to time here, and the overzealous climax doesn't sit well with the rest of the flick.

As we're in the 21st Century and placid monster behaviour would be boring for today's viewers, this The Thing is more reliant on CGI than makeup or practical effects. At times it works, but at other times the digital creations exhibit embarrassing phoniness, with shoddy effects work causing certain scenes to almost fall apart. CGI lacks the immediacy and grotesque nature of prosthetics and animatronics, automatically bringing this prequel down a few notches. The adage of "less is more" definitely applies here - the more we see of the weak computer effects, the less convincing the creature looks. On a more positive note, though, The Thing is not toned-down like most modern horror films. On the contrary, this is a viciously violent, unapologetically R-rated piece of horror cinema. And it's all the better for it, as the gory details are essential in a motion picture such as this. The Thing is also effectively shadowy and atmospheric, with Michel Abramowicz's opulent cinematography and Marco Beltrami's eerie score (which incorporates strains of Ennio Morricone's masterful music from Carpenter's film) keeping the proceedings interesting.

While the 1982 film featured nothing but male performers (save for a female computer voice), the main character here is played by the always-reliable Mary Elizabeth Winstead. More or less a mix of Kurt Russell's R.J. MacReady and Sigourney Weaver's Ellen Ripley, Winstead's Kate Lloyd is a strong, smart protagonist and an engaging entry point into the narrative. Winstead is not an air-headed stick figure; she comes across as a real, three-dimensional human with a functioning brain. Meanwhile, Australian actor Joel Edgerton also excels here as a helicopter pilot - his performance is both intense and appealing. Another strong point is that the producers were smart enough to hire actual Norwegian actors to play the Norwegian characters, and they speak in their native language when the occasion calls for it. The likes of Ulrich Thomsen, Trond Espen Seim and other Norwegian performers are top-notch here, affording The Thing a flavour that would've been absent if the picture was filled with Americans espousing faux accents.

Keen fans of the 1982 film will spot several references throughout this prequel. Most substantially, this The Thing works to address the origins of several after-the-fact discoveries from the original flick (the charred corpse, the base's destruction, etc), and it closes with an end credits sequence that neatly (and shrewdly) ties into the original film's opening sequence. Indeed, it would be best if you saw Carpenter's original film before watching this prequel. 2011's The Thing is not nearly as good as the film that spawned it - that's a given, as it is literally impossible to top. Nevertheless, this is an above-average effort, resulting in a sterling companion piece to Carpenter's masterwork. It's definitely better than it had any right to be, and it's easily better than the dumb monster movie drivel that we're so often subjected to in this day and age.

6.9/10

"For 12 years, I was held captive by the humans. The world I once knew has changed. Vampires and Lycans are now the hunted."

With the insipid Twilight phenomenon currently in full force, nothing could be more welcome than 2012's Underworld: Awakening; a film which abandons the metrosexual image of werewolves and vampires in favour of something more agreeably badass. Those seeking sophistication or nuanced storytelling should look elsewhere, though - this fourth Underworld flick is wall-to-wall vampires vs. werewolves action, jettisoning laborious exposition and forced romantic melodrama for a more stripped-down experience. The whole thing is exceedingly dumb, shallow and messy, but at least it's light on its feet, with kinetic pacing leaving little time for cheesy dialogue-laden respite in between the mayhem. Underworld fans are likely to be satisfied with what directors Måns Mårlind and Björn Stein have created here under the guidance of franchise co-creator Len Wiseman.

When humans discover that vampires and lycans (that is, werewolves) are living amongst them in a feuding state, a "purge" is ordered, and both species are hunted to the brink of extinction. Amid the genocide, vampire Selene (Beckinsale) looks to escape with her hybrid lover Michael, but government goons capture them, thwarting their plan. Twelve years later, Selene wakes up in a lab to a world where vampires and lycans live in exile. The unsuspecting warrior also discovers that she has a powerful hybrid daughter Eve (Eisley), who has been used for experimentation. Escaping captivity with her offspring, Selene goes on the run, seeking refuge while being hotly pursued.

Perhaps to avoid further Twilight comparisons, the filmmakers behind Underworld: Awakening stripped away the romantic angle, pretty much excluding the character of Michael and keeping corny melodrama to an absolute minimum. It's a welcome move, as it allows the franchise go in new directions and embrace a more simple, badass attitude. The original Underworld in particular was marred by frequent monotonous exposition and flashbacks, so Awakening gets rid of that stuff as well. While the opening five minutes or so are exclusively dedicated to exposition and montage, the film promptly takes off like a champion racehorse afterwards, concerning itself with countless action-oriented conflicts and rarely stopping to assess the situation. Selene's relationship with Eve could have resulted in clichéd histrionics and forced tear-jerking, but the filmmakers had other plans. Instead, there are just a few well-judged character building moments to construct a credible bond between mum and bub. Marvellous.

Underworld: Awakening is expectedly threadbare from a dramatic and narrative standpoint, but the picture's visual firepower is stunning. Retaining the franchise's penchant for no-holds-barred violence, directors Måns Mårlind and Björn Stein show tremendous enthusiasm for lathering on the R-rated details, keenly watching as Selene disembowels, decapitates and skewers her enemies in a spectacular fashion. While the loud gunfights are expectedly delightful, it's the fisticuffs that stand out the most here, with Selene even battling an enormous lycan enforcer. This is easily one of 2012's most satisfyingly violent movies so far, and it's destined to please action fans who've grown sick of sanitised PG-13 blockbusters. With a generous budget, Underworld: Awakening is an attractive picture to behold as well, with robust special effects that represent an improvement since the franchise's first entry. Cinematographer Scott Kevan also affords a degree of beauty to the film. Instead of a tedious routine of shaky-cam and rapid-fire editing, Kevan's framing lets us watch the battles and absorb all the gory details without getting a migraine, and the blue-tinged photography is enthralling indeed. Underworld: Awakening is available in 3-D, too. It was filmed with 3-D cameras at least, but the extra dimension fails to add anything worthwhile to the experience: it's just there. Sure, the gimmick is fun, but the flick is equally good in 2-D.

Kate Beckinsale took a six-year leave of absence from this franchise, but she slipped back into her role of Selene (and back into her skin-tight garb) to seamless effect. It's great to have her back, and she fulfilled her leading lady duties with confidence. Although there isn't much more to Beckinsale than surface pleasures (she's not the most nuanced performer in the world), the star is a perfect fit for this role: she's incredibly hot, and she looks awesome when cracking skulls and using dual firearms. The rest of the cast, meanwhile, is pretty standard-order. Bewilderingly, Scott Speedman sat this film out (c'mon, what could he be so busy with these days?). Instead, a body double awkwardly and silently stands in for Speedman, though said double is only glimpsed briefly.

The emphasis for Underworld: Awakening is more on bone-crunching action than anything else - the plot is not given much thought, nor is it cerebral. As a result, the film is definitely fun in the moment but it's ultimately forgettable and borderline inconsequential. Its story material is literally the equivalent of the opening act for a 120-minute feature film, and thus it seems to just be testing the box office waters, setting up a fifth movie and seeing if audiences still care about this series before going any further. So, no, Underworld: Awakening will not be remembered for long, but it retains a heroic sense of forward momentum, keeping this franchise fun and interesting. It nicely complements its predecessors, too. If you've been yearning for the return of the sexy, sleek Selene, it's doubtful you'll walk away disappointed.

6.2/10

"I'd imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason."

With its PG rating, 2011's Hugo is the first Martin Scorsese project that could be considered a kids movie. However, it's not aimed specifically at children - this is a movie made by a lover of a cinema for lovers of cinema. While kids will likely be transfixed by Hugo's gorgeous visuals, the story's messages may be too cerebral and advanced for inexperienced minds. Meanwhile, older audiences and cinema aficionados will get the most out of this film, as they'll be able to comprehend the material laying underneath the picture's lush exterior. Based on the novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick (a distant cousin of David O. Selznick), Scorsese's latest film has a few issues in the scripting department, but its positives far outweigh the negatives. And while it's not the greatest 3-D movie in history, Hugo stands as one of 3-D's largest benefactors (right alongside Avatar). Planned and filmed in three dimensions, this is a film which demonstrates the format's marvellous capabilities when a master filmmaker is in the driving seat.

An orphan secretively living in a Parisian train station during the 1930s, Hugo Cabret (Butterfield) is a gifted clock-maker who spends his time maintaining the station's large system of clocks. His primary passion, though, is restoring a mysterious automaton recovered by his late father (Law) that may hold profound secrets. But Hugo is a menace and a thief to those working at the train station, and he has to frantically avoid the Station Inspector (Cohen) as he goes about his daily business. When his latest attempt at thievery is caught by toy shop owner George (Kingsley), Hugo's beloved notebook is taken from him. While working to get it back, Hugo befriends young Isabelle (Moretz), who's enthralled by the boy's proclivity for adventures and machines. The lives of Hugo and Isabelle become irreversibly rocked, however, when secrets about George's past begin to come flooding out.

The key issue with Hugo is one of structure. The flick is split into two distinct halves, bringing about a borderline schizophrenic identity crisis. The movie's first half deals with Hugo's covert everyday life at the train station, but everything changes at the halfway point: Hugo disappears into the background as another characters takes to the fore, with the picture abandoning the story of survival and friendship to instead extol the importance of film preservation. It's a bold move that doesn't entirely work; the title implies that this is Hugo's personal story, but he doesn't grow much as a character throughout the film. Instead, the character arcs are allotted to a supporting player who's suddenly promoted to protagonist. Both stories are admittedly interesting, but only on their own merits, and the merger feels awkward. Consequently, Hugo lacks cohesiveness. Additionally, Hugo is at times dramatically poor. This problem is especially glaring in relation to the Station Inspector, whose character arc feels forced to a cringe-worthy extent. No real tension or conflict stems from the inspector's growth as a character; it only leads to eye-rolls.

Script and structuring problems aside, Hugo is a heroically-detailed visual feast which doesn't merely use 3-D to inflate profits. See, more than just a tale about its titular character, Hugo is a love letter to cinema. It traces cinema's origins, detailing early filmic endeavours and ending with several moving scenes effectively underscoring the magic of the movies. With Hugo, Scorsese explores a time when people thought motion pictures as a whole were just a fad in the late 19th Century, serving as a brilliant comparison to those who call 3-D a gimmick in this day and age. Thus, the 3-D is not merely a cinematic trick here; it's inherently tied to the narrative's central messages. Hugo even contains a re-enactment of the famous screening of Arrival of a Train at the Station, when naïve audiences leapt out of the way in fear that the train was coming for them. Days like those are long gone, but Scorsese clearly longs for this level of engagement, and has used 3-D to try and achieve a similar effect. It's invigorating for a 21st Century film to introduce such concepts in an era when cinema is predominantly exploited for profits by studio treadmills rather than artists passionate about the medium.

And how are the 3-D effects, you ask? Absolutely magnificent. Since Hugo was a 3-D movie from the outset, every shot and angle was tailored with extra-dimensional effects in mind. Mixed with the luscious production design and Robert Richardson's exceptional cinematography, Hugo looks immaculate; Scorsese and co. have created a staggering fantasyland, taking us on a tour inside this labyrinthine train station with utmost imagination. It's enthralling to watch the intricate machinery at work in three dimensions, too. Even though Scorsese's pacing is not always spot-on (the film feels done after the first half ends, and it hits the doldrums for a good 10 minutes), the rest of the production team have done a fabulous job. Howard Shore's whimsically majestic score is especially impressive.

As Hugo Cabret, young Asa Butterfield (Boy in the Stripes Pyjamas) is expressive and charming, not to mention affecting when the occasion calls for it. Butterfield is not one of those stereotypically cute kids; he earns our sympathy through the strength of his acting. Alongside him, the always-reliable Chloë Grace Moretz is incredibly endearing as Isabelle. She's a cute girl, but she also excels as an actress; she grabs your attention whenever she's on-screen. Digging into the supporting cast, Ben Kingsley is at his best here in years. Called upon to go through a range of complex emotions and tasked with playing younger versions of himself, Kingsley was up to the challenge, and never treads a foot wrong. Meanwhile, Sacha Baron Cohen is spot-on as the harsh Station Inspector. Another standout is Michael Stuhlbarg (recognisable as the star of A Serious Man) playing a film historian who becomes pivotal to the narrative in the second half. It's hard to pinpoint the exact reason why Stuhlbarg is so good here; he just has a pleasant aura about him, and his dialogue is delivered with pitch-perfection conviction. Not to mention, he genuinely looks the part.

Hugo has problems, but it's hard to imagine anyone walking away feeling entirely let down by this audacious picture. Not merely eye candy, the film comes packaged with provocative messages, and it leaves you convinced that the 3-D format can work in deft hands. But while the 3-D's immense fluidity and astonishing sense of depth would make James Cameron jealous, the script cannot quite hold its own against the visuals.

6.8/10

"What's important at this time is to re-clarify the difference between hero and villain."

The word "okay" is the most apt adjective for 2011's J. Edgar, Clint Eastwood's unambitious but handsomely-mounted biopic of one of the most interesting men of the 20th Century. The direction is okay and the acting is merely okay... Apart from lavish sets and (mostly) stunning makeup, nothing stands out as memorable or above-average in this blatant piece of Oscar bait. It's a shame, too, as the production was blessed with a lot of talent: Clint Eastwood at the helm, Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead, Brian Grazer & Ron Howard producing, and even Dustin Lance Black (Milk) behind the script. The mention of such names only serves to heighten the disappointment that the flick represents. This is Eastwood's laziest effort in years. Perhaps the former acting heavyweight is just getting too old to be patient with his craft.

From an early age, John Edgar Hoover (DiCaprio) showed determination to defend America from the Communist and criminal scum posing a threat to his beloved nation. Becoming a law enforcer in his 20s, Hoover worked his way through the ranks to become the Director of the FBI, where he introduced revolutionary methods such as forensics and fingerprinting. Hoover was also notorious for embellishing stories to the public, claiming to have personally taken down outlaws like John Dillinger and Alvin Karpis. Meanwhile, Hoover's personal life was a mess. Behind closed doors he was a closet homosexual: he maintained a long-term relationship with his second-in-command Clyde Tolson (Hammer), but was afraid that his sexual orientation may harm his image and legacy.

The retelling of Hoover's life is framed around the man dictating his life story and professional triumphs to various assistants to form the basis for an upcoming book. It's a clever storytelling method in theory, as it allows the script to explore Hoover's insatiable quest to eternally preserve himself as a great man in the eyes of the public. The device almost works...almost. While it permits a window into Hoover's psyche, it denies the chance to genuinely get into the more controversial and unsavoury aspects of his character. And when the chance finally arises for such aspects to be exposed, Black squanders the opportunity. See, at one point Clyde confronts Hoover about events he either sensationalised or outright made up in his memoirs. But this idea is dropped after a short single scene, denying Clyde the chance to provide further insights.

The key problems with J. Edgar stem from both Dustin Lance Black's script and Clint Eastwood's handling of it. Rather than examining Hoover's extensive commitment to the FBI, the flick simply runs through several key events without any sort of consistent through line. Black's flawed script lacks ambition, too. The writer was keen to open up several cans of worms - including Hoover's homosexuality and rumoured cross-dressing - but he can only watch them wriggle around. A lot of time is dedicated to showing Hoover and Tolson spending time together, yet the relationship is too tasteful and gutless. It's a shallow depiction of their romantic involvement, harmlessly observing them but never going under the surface to explore their love. Instead, it boils down to a lot of clandestine glances and dialogue of scattershot quality. Granted, Black's point was most likely that Hoover was just tragically stubborn and was unable to embrace his full self since he was living in an era of narrow-mindedness, but something more daring would have made for more enthralling cinema. This is too dry. History books also reveal countless fascinating things about Hoover (especially in his later life), barely any of which were incorporated into the finished movie. Things are played too safe, and the film lacks the guts to be ambitious. What a wasted opportunity.

Added to this, the script's nonlinear approach is ineffective; it haphazardly leaps around the timeline for no particular reason when a more straightforward retelling would have worked far better. Clint's direction exacerbates this issue; a handful of scene transitions are poor, and there's a distinct lack of focus and discipline. The editing, too, feels lazy. Admittedly, however, J. Edgar gets better as it moves along, with the amateurish opening segment giving way to a number of enthralling scenes throughout the midsection. Most successful are the scenes dealing with the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, which are so engaging that the subplot should have been given its own movie. The makeup deserves a mention, too. DiCaprio and Watts look especially convincing as the older versions of their characters, though the makeup job on Armie Hammer looks positively ghastly.

For all of the cynical critics dismissively saying that Leonardo DiCaprio is in pure Oscar baiting mode here, the actor is surprisingly mixed. His accent at no point feels convincingly lived-in; it feels like Clint used his trademark one-take method all the time, never permitting Leo the chance to feel comfortable in Hoover's skin. His voice doesn't entirely convince; it seems to be a random mix of his real voice and a forced accent, which is bewildering since he's one of the finest actors of this generation. Additionally, Leo's voice remains the same as Hoover ages, which betrays the convincing makeup effects. Billy Crudup was far more authentic and memorable as J. Edgar Hoover in 2009's Public Enemies (a superior flick). The rest of the acting, though, is more successful. Armie Hammer excellently embodies the role of Clyde Tolson, and he's completely believable as he runs through various challenging emotions. Meanwhile, despite a thankless role, Naomi Watts impresses as Hoover's loyal secretary, and Judi Dench is her usual exceptional self as Hoover's mother. Also worth mentioning is Josh Lucas, who's very good as Charles Lindbergh.

Viewers seeking profound insight into the life and personality of J. Edgar Hoover will have to look elsewhere - Eastwood's movie is a strictly superficial affair which only teases, resulting in an incomplete filmic sketch of this fascinating man. Interesting to note, J. Edgar was originally slated for a mid-late 2012 release, but was pulled forward a year...after filming had wrapped. Another year of post-production could have facilitated reshoots, stronger editing, and generally more care. What we're left with feels like an early rough cut that only occasionally shows promise of what it could have been. J. Edgar is not bad per se - it's just an underwhelming, limp career overview of someone who deserves a far more substantial biopic. Just think of what someone like Oliver Stone could've made of this project...

5.7/10

"I wonder all the time why no-one's never just stood up and become a real superhero."

By now, a motion picture concerning an average citizen suiting up to fight real-world crime is not an original premise anymore. Most recently we've seen Defendor and Kick-Ass assume such routines, and the 1980s film Hero at Large used a similar idea. 2011's Super is writer-director James Gunn's take on the concept. The product is fundamentally a mix of Kick-Ass and Napoleon Dynamite, with a hint of Falling Down and Death Wish also thrown in for good measure. Super definitely has its own identity, though - it's a darkly funny and at times just plain dark spin on the civilian superhero subgenre. With Gunn having graduated from the Troma school of filmmaking, Super is off-kilter and exceedingly violent. Conventional superhero movies often ignore extreme violence, but Gunn lets the blood and guts fly (his previous movie was 2006's Slither).

Meek, socially awkward cook Frank (Wilson) has lived a lifetime of misery, and is devoted to his wife Sarah (Tyler) who's recovering from several years of drug and alcohol abuse. After shady drug kingpin Jacques (Bacon) steals Sarah away from Frank, the schlub becomes insurmountably depressed, and he starts looking to remove the criminal element from the streets. Following a vivid hallucination, Frank operates under the impression that God wants him to be a superhero. Frank creates his own makeshift costume complete with a pipe wrench, and hits the streets as the Crimson Bolt to beat criminals senseless in his quest for retribution. Frank soon draws the interest of overzealous young comic book geek Libby (Page), who figures out Frank's superhero identity and begs to become his kid sidekick Boltie.

Super's first half gels remarkably well, as an agreeable tone of schlocky campiness pervades the scenes of ultra-violence (the montage of Frank using a pipe wrench to punish people is a cesspool of comedic awesomeness due to Frank's stupid and overzealous sensibilities). Things become even more fun when Boltie enters the picture, and from there the pic seems primed to become an instant classic. However, Gunn fails to entirely capitalises on this potential. As the climax kicks in, there's a jarring change in tone and identity - things grow so bleak and uncomfortable that fun preceding it becomes tarnished. The tonal problem begins with an unforgivable character death that's worsened by the implication that Sarah's life is more valuable than the deceased. From there, things only go further downhill - the concluding 10 minutes are clumsy and disagreeable, and the ending's optimism feels unearned. Furthermore, one assumes that Frank's journey is one of self-discovery, but the payoff is half-hearted and grim, and the deceased main character is left entirely forgotten. Being an indie picture, Gunn probably wanted his story to be real-world and grounded, yet such serious aspirations do not mesh well with this darkly comic tone. It's the equivalent of putting a scene from Schindler's List at the end of a Jim Carrey comedy - the jarring dissonance is overwhelming.

Best known for his work on The Office, Rainn Wilson is terrific in the role of Frank - he gives the character a well-judged degree of vulnerability to make him sympathetic and likable. However, just like in Kick-Ass, the costumed kid sidekick is the one who steals the movie. As Libby/Boltie, Page is batshit crazy, breathing fearless life into this hot young geek with a healthy sexual appetite and an unexpected penchant for violence. Page's brilliance lies in the way she sells different aspects of Libby's personality. At first she seems like a geeky comic shop clerk, but she unleashes her inner psycho when she becomes Frank's sidekick, cackling at criminals before telling them things like "It's called internet bleeding fucker, and then you die!". Oh, and she practically rapes Frank at one stage. Another standout is the underused Nathan Fillion as a bible-thumping superhero known as The Holy Avenger. Always a talented comic performer, Fillion steals every frame in which he features. In supporting roles, Liv Tyler and Kevin Bacon are solid if not entirely memorable, and Michael Rooker is enjoyable as one of Jacques' henchmen.

Ultimately, Super is a terrific idea yielding an often fun but uneven ride, with misjudged execution and Gunn's rough-around-the-edges sensibilities marring what could have been an instant classic. Its tone is all over the shop, alternating between darkly comic and downright unsettling, rendering Super nothing more than watchable but unremarkable escapism. If James Gunn revised his script and few more times, the film may have indeed been "super". As it is, it's about 70 minutes of brilliance and 20 minutes of sloppiness.

6.6/10

"Now I lay me down to rest, but there's a goblin on my chest. He's gray and ugly and very gory and he wants to tell me a deadtime story."

At first glance, Deadtime Stories has a lot going for it. For starters, it boasts an intriguing premise: it's an old-fashioned anthology of horror stories. Furthermore, George A. Romero - the godfather of zombie movies - produced the flick and "hosts" it. If nothing else, it'd be fair for one to assume that it should make for an enjoyable night of horror consumption. Alas, the final product is a spit in the face of horror fans, and it's downright insulting to see Romero's name attached to such Z-grade tosh. The third and final story admittedly has some merit, but the rest of Deadtime Stories is awful, featuring unconvincing acting and cheap production values. Amateur backyard filmmakers would be embarrassed to have their names attached to this drivel.

The first segment - entitled Valley of the Shadow - concerns a young woman who leads an expedition into the jungles of South America in search of her missing husband and hidden treasure. Things go bad, though, when they're attacked by the violent natives.
Directed by Jeff Monaghan, this initial vignette sets the quality bar extremely low. The most glaring issue is the blasé disposition of Monaghan's direction; the actors stroll around without any discipline or purpose, and literally seem to be wondering why scenes are dragging on for so long. Moreover, the minuscule budget is frequently obvious in the slapdash production values and cheap-looking photography. Low-budget horror filmmakers should rely on atmosphere and a fear of the unknown to compensate for financial shortness, but such qualities elude Monaghan, who couldn't direct water to a glass. His script is no better, as nothing in the movie makes any sense at all. The natives seem to be omnipresent and looking to attack the protagonists, yet they never seem to make an effort. And why would the characters stop to make camp in a jungle while being hunted by nearby savages? Why did the characters leave their boat while under attack, rather than just leaving on said boat or taking cover and strategising? Is one of the natives meant to be the woman's husband? ...Fuck off, movie, just fuck off! Zero stars.

In the next segment, a lonely fisherman named Jack (Monaghan) finds a valuable jade box buried on the beach. Antiques dealer Swan (Mancuso) warns Jack of the danger of what he's got himself into, and advises him to bury the box where he found it. Suffice it to say, Jack doesn't listen.
This second story, entitled Wet, is mildly better than its predecessor, but only thanks to the presence of Nick Mancuso as Swan. Everything else is dreadful; Monaghan (who directed Valley of the Shadow and wrote all three segments) is an awful actor, and director Michael Fischa fails to build any sense of trepidation or tension. Monaghan's script is equally lacklustre; the conversations between Jack and Swan are often boring. The slapdash special effects, photography and direction would be considered awful in a Year 8 Media Studies project...but in a major motion picture produced by George A. Romero, such shortcomings are goddamn unforgivable. One star.

Deadtime Stories' third and final segment is entitled House Call. Set on a stormy night, a panicked mother (Nagel) asks a local doctor (O'Malley) to come see her son (Norman), who has been acting strangely and is now tied to his bed...
Hands down, House Call is the best of the three short films on offer here. Director Tom Savini has done an above-average job with his small budget, confidently diving into the corny material (the script was written by Monaghan again) to produce something stylish, intense and at times riveting. The atmospheric opening moments grab your attention, and the rest of the story delivers in the way that its predecessors failed to do. Savini also afforded his segment an old-timey feel, with retro photography and sparse, effective use of make-up and special effects. Despite a few draggy patches of talking, House Call is an effective mix of tension and outright thrills. It's a true shame that this quality was not carried over to the rest of the stories. Still, some moments during the segment do feel a tad hammy and the piece lacks polish as a whole, so it falls short of greatness. Four stars.

Bookmarking each segment is George A. Romero playing host. This malarkey is just as terrible as the first two stories. Romero looks bored, stiff and uncomfortable. His material is only worsened by the irritating staging - he bounces between a series of static-filled televisions stacked on top of each other for absolutely no reason and to absolutely no worthwhile effect.

It would seem that those behind Deadtime Stories did not have the budget for many impressive set-pieces, so the stories are filled with drab dialogue bogged down by low production values, awful acting and incompetent direction. The movie is not even so bad it's good; it's just lifeless and dull. Well, this applies for the first two stories at least, as the third is a decent horror story tarnished by the crap it has been attached to. If Valley of the Shadow and Wet were even half as stylish and effective as House Call, then Deadtime Stories would have been a worthwhile horror film. Alas, it is not. Shame on the producers for trying to trick gullible horror consumers into assuming that this is a George A. Romero-calibre production.

3.8/10

"There's a mole, right at the top of the Circus. And he's been there for years."

A rare type of modern spy thriller, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is more interested in looks, pauses and intricate story machinations than guns and explosions. Mainstream audiences need not apply; this is the type of picture best consumed by more mature filmgoers who possess the sort of patience and attention that viewers can rarely be relied upon to bring to a cinema these days. However, despite gorgeous visuals, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy proceeds through its knotted scheme of espionage and secrets with a sense of utmost perplexity, ensuring you'll never be certain about what's happening even if you're able to grapple with the events and stakes of isolated set-pieces. It's intelligent and complex yet at times dramatically dry and detached.

When British Intelligence commander Control (Hurt) learns that a Hungarian general is willing to sell classified information, agent Jim Prideaux (Strong) is dispatched to Budapest to investigate. Prideaux is promptly shot, though, and, in the aftermath, Control is forced into retirement. In ensuing months, word reaches civil servant Oliver Lacon (McBurney) that there's a long-term mole in the "Circus" (i.e. the British Intelligence agency). To investigate, he pulls George Smiley (Oldman) out of forced retirement. As Smiley monitors the actions of the Circus' top men, he finds a reliable man in Peter Guillam (Cumberbatch), and becomes intertwined with fringe player Ricki Tarr (Hardy) who has valuable information about the mole that he'll trade for protection.

John le Carré's labyrinthine source novel of the same name has been adapted before. In 1979, an acclaimed BBC miniseries based on the novel was produced, which had the luxury of 7 episodes and over 350 minutes of screen-time to sort through the intricate arrangement of scrutiny and suspicions. For 2011's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, on the other hand, screenwriters Peter Straughan and Bridget O'Connor had to compress the narrative complexities into a 120-minute timeframe. The resulting picture is successful in capturing the novel's spirit and sense of paranoia, yet it's too truncated and difficult to follow (there are even poorly-delineated jumps in the timeline), leaving us with little to do but try to absorb the dialogue as we endeavour to grasp the bigger picture beyond the intricacies of individual scenes. It's laudable for filmmakers in the 21st Century to handle a conventional plot in an unconventional fashion, yet only occasionally does the material's density translate to enthralling cinema - it often lacks the sense of tension and emotional attachment that's pivotal to entice viewers to decode all of the sophistication. Ultimately, what we're left with is a few riveting vignettes and a few tedious segments which have not been effectively tied together to produce something overly rewarding.

Director Tomas Alfredson emerged on critics' radars with his Swedish masterpiece Let the Right One In back in 2008. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is Alfredson's English-language debut, and it's an immaculately-detailed, atmospheric piece of work that effortlessly summons the time and place of Europe in the 1970s. This is the type of motion picture which primarily concerns itself with mood and character, resulting in a true "slice of life" depiction of this era, as if Alfredson and his crew got in a time capsule and filmed actual secret agents at work. Yet, the movie still feels a bit too dry and impassive. Finding out the identity of the mole does not carry as much urgency as it should have, nor does it provide much momentum. It's all a bit blah. While Alfredson may have been an ideal choice in theory to helm the film, perhaps the director's inexperience in English-language features is to blame for the picture's occasional desiccation.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy's largest asset is easily the cast, which contains a handful of renowned British actors. Leading the pack is Gary Oldman, whose reserved but confident demeanour is an ideal fit for George Smiley. Oldman constantly submits top-notch work, yet his performance here easily ranks as one of his best; he disappears into the role of Smiley and makes us believe every utterance. Meanwhile, Colin Firth (who was recently awarded a well-earned Oscar for The King's Speech) is excellent, conveying a myriad of internal nuances with aplomb (aspects of his work are ripe for interpretation). Also terrific are Tom Hardy (Warrior) and Benedict Cumberbatch (BBC's Sherlock) as Ricki Tarr and Peter Guillam (respectively). In supporting roles you'll also find John Hurt, Mark Strong, Toby Jones, David Dencik, Ciarán Hinds, Stephen Graham and Simon McBurney, who do their utmost to try and maintain our interest during the convoluted narrative. The acting across the board is sublime.

Admittedly, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy does improve on repeat viewings, as you'll have the chance to decipher the film's intricacies with the story's ultimate trajectory at the back of your mind. Like most Oscar bait, this is a film which is happy to be appreciated rather than enjoyed. It's not that Alfredson and co. should have dumbed down the source material to include guns and action; it's that viewers are asked to do too much homework to compensate for the massive narrative condensation.

6.5/10

"Keep believing, keep pretending; we've done just what we've set out to do, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you!"

Created by Jim Henson, the Muppets first burst onto the pop culture scene in the mid-1950s, and several theatrically-released films followed in the decades to come. 1979's The Muppet Movie was the first theatrical outing of the beloved characters, and it's widely regarded as the best. To this day, it's easy to understand why The Muppet Movie is so well-liked; it's a fun, frequently side-splitting cinematic orientation for Henson's lovable critters. Admittedly, the movie does feel a bit like an extended episode of The Muppet Show, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Why force needless sophistication when the characters work so well within simple, hilarious vignettes? And since The Muppet Movie has heart to spare amidst the uproarious goings-on, it's hard to imagine anyone feeling dissatisfied after watching this flick.

The Muppet Movie is essentially an origins tale. As the story kicks off, Kermit the Frog (Jim Henson) is casually singing in a swamp where he's discovered by a Hollywood agent (Dom DeLuise). After the agent convinces Kermit to pursue a career in show business, the frog sets off on a cross-country trip to Hollywood. During his travels, Kermit meets and picks up various familiar faces who will soon become part of the Muppet troupe, including Fozzie Bear (Frank Oz), Gonzo (Dave Goelz), Miss Piggy (also Frank Oz), and many more. However, restaurant entrepreneur Doc Hopper (Charles Durning) wants Kermit to be the spokesperson for his struggling franchise specialising in French fried frog legs. And Doc refuses to take no for an answer.

The Muppet Movie announces itself to be a postmodern creation from the outset: as the film opens, the Muppets congregate in a private screening room to watch the movie they've just made about themselves. This device serves as a brilliant extension of The Muppet Show's self-referentiality (it's a variety show about putting on a variety show), and it establishes the Muppet characters as being "real" outside of the fictional universe of the movie within the movie. It's also a delightfully playful gesture, placing viewers in the right headspace to enjoy the impending silliness. The postmodern touches persist throughout the movie within the movie - at one stage, to skip excessive expository dialogue, Fozzie pulls out a copy of the script for Dr. Teeth to read in order for him to be filled in on Fozzie's adventures with Kermit so far. It's great stuff. On top of sly jokes like these, there are also sight gags and hysterical one-liners. Not all of the jokes are home runs, but there are more hits than misses. Besides, the film never drags as it constantly maintains an enjoyably light-hearted tone, which is one of the highest compliments a comedy can be awarded.

As with The Muppet Show, a large handful of guest stars were recruited for the film. Here, the cameo roster includes Mel Brooks as a crazy German scientist, James Coburn as a café owner, Dom DeLuise as the Hollywood agent who convinces Kermit to try his hand in Hollywood, Elliott Gould as the compere at the beauty show where Miss Piggy is discovered, Bob Hope as an ice cream vendor, Orson Welles as a powerful Hollywood executive, Richard Pryor as a balloon salesman, and many others. Big Bird even has a cameo, and Steve Martin pops up momentarily as a waiter at a restaurant (one of the film's best scenes). Fortunately, the Muppets themselves are not in any way outshone by their celebrity guests or human co-stars; this is primarily a story about the comical critters. The techniques used to bring the Muppets to life still hold up well to this day, and the personality-rich voice work allows us to come to accept the Muppets as real people who just happen to have felt for skin.

Of course, what would a Muppet production be without songs and music? Paul Williams' tunes are for the most part sublime, including the Oscar-winning The Rainbow Connection which makes for a poignant opening sequence. The songs do not feel forced; they're catchy and funny, and actually help to move the plot forward (though Miss Piggy's ballad admittedly drags). One of the standout songs is Moving Right Along, which is so insanely catchy that it'll stick with you for days (probably even weeks). However, The Muppet Movie is held back from perfection by director James Frawley. A television veteran with little feature film experience, Frawley's handling of the material is merely average - some of the framing and blocking is awkward and drab (shots go on for too long, and the Muppets have too much headspace a lot of the time). A better director could have catapulted the same material to stratospheric heights; as it is, the production could have been stronger.

The Muppet Movie is flawed, sure, but it's impossible to resist the infectiously fun vibe amid the hearty belly-laughs, the hilarious postmodernism, the joyous songs and the endearing protagonists. To this day, it stands as a great children's movie that viewers of all ages can enjoy. With all due respect to the classic TV show and the marvellous Muppet Christmas Carol, 1979's The Muppet Movie is the quintessential Muppet project. It encompasses everything that there is to love about Henson's creations within an almost timeless motion picture that stands up to repeat viewings.

8.1/10