Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"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

"Hey, Rowlf, we're getting the gang back together."

The aim of 2011's The Muppets was to resurrect the age-old Muppet brand, giving fresh new life to the titular gang, reinvigorating old fans, and promoting the formation of a new fan-base to keep Jim Henson's joyous creations alive for a long time to come. Scripted by self-proclaimed Muppet fanatics Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller (who wrote Forgetting Sarah Marshall), this new Muppet adventure ticks all the proverbial boxes - there are plenty of inside jokes, guest stars, and lines which break the fourth wall, not to mention it's filled with a feeling of victory as the comical critters prove they still have what it takes to be the best entertainers in the world. But while this is a heart-on-its-sleeve charmer, the picture nonetheless fails to achieve its full potential. The Muppets tries extremely hard to be better than it is, resulting in an uneven flick that lacks energy and wit as a whole but tells a worthwhile story and contains isolated moments of excellence.

The Muppet Show stopped airing in 1981, and the last theatrical outing for the Muppet characters was 1999's Muppets From Space. Thus, the basis for this film is slyly self-referential: the Muppets are yesterday's news, and are no longer relevant in today's harsh, cynical world.
A puppet named Walter (Linz) and his human brother Gary (Segel) live unremarkable lives in Small Town, USA, and Walter's videos of The Muppet Show are his only source of joy. Gary and his long-time girlfriend Mary (Adams) are planning a trip to Hollywood for their anniversary which will include a tour of the Muppet Studios, and Gary decides to take Walter along. Walter's excitement becomes shattered, though, when they arrive to find the Muppet Studios in ruin and disrepair, having been abandoned by the group decades ago when they broke up. Worse, shady oil barren Tex Richman (Cooper) has purchased the site with the secret goal in mind of demolishing the buildings to drill for oil. Horrified, Walter sets out with Gary and Mary to convince the Muppets to save their studio. To achieve this, Kermit (Whitmore) looks to reunite the gang and put on a show.

In keeping with regular Muppet movies, the plot is a clothesline on which the filmmakers could add musical numbers, laughs and celebrity cameos. Somewhat reminiscent of The Blues Brothers, 2011's The Muppets sets up the central narrative crisis before switching to "we're getting the band back together" mode, providing the opportunity for classic Muppet characters to shine in their own vignettes. It's hilarious to see Gonzo the successful toilet magnate, and it's a masterstroke to find Miss Piggy working in the Paris offices of Vogue while Animal is in an anger management class. And once all of the Muppets are reunited, the makers dive right into iconic Muppet Show merriment. The final act, therefore, is more or less a 2011 reimagining of the bygone Muppet variety program, and it's a treat for long-time fans to behold the use of beloved old sets and songs (The Rainbow Connection is present). However, aspects of the final act are a bit too contrived, and, though the final scene gave this reviewer gooseflesh, the story's resolution in relation to Tex Richman feels too easy. The narrative is also formulaic - Kermit's pessimism even leads to a clichéd "all hope is lost, but his friends will help him through" section.

Perhaps the key problem with The Muppets is that its focus haphazardly shifts between traditional Muppet shenanigans and the new characters. While Walter's love for the Muppets gives the film its heart and joy, Gary and Mary's plot thread is dreadful; a superfluous, clichéd distraction that's detrimental to momentum. The movie could have been stronger if Kermit was the impetus for the plot, or if there was just plain no Mary (she even has an extraordinarily weak song and dance number). Ultimately, The Muppets works better in isolated sections than as a cohesive whole. It contains a handful of excellent, funny scenes (Kermit's musical rumination on the past is superb and heartfelt, and the team-assembling montage is pitch-perfect), but pacing is weak in between. Considering the enormous amount of talent involved (even Pixar assisted in the writing process), the best belly-laughs are in disappointingly short supply. It's a shame, too, as a few rewrites could have smoothened out some of the more glaring flaws and allowed this to be a true classic.

As Gary, Jason Segel looks to be having a ball interacting with the Muppets in a major motion picture, as he wears a smiling face pretty much all the time. And that's the problem; he's too broad and obvious. Rather than seeming in the moment, he looks to be in on the joke, and is therefore not funny. The rest of the cast, thankfully, are more successful. Amy Adams is bright and sunny despite her useless character, and Chris Cooper absolutely went for broke as the story's villain (he even does a rap, with side-splitting results). You'll also find a cavalcade of high-profile cameos; the likes of Emily Blunt, Alan Arkin, Whoopi Goldberg, Zach Galifianakis, Neil Patrick Harris, Sarah Silverman and Mickey Rooney are all present, and more.

Of course, the Muppets themselves are predictably wonderful here. The filmmakers retained an old-fashioned approach, so the Muppets are the result of puppetry and animatronics rather than distracting new-age CGI. Balcony hecklers Statler (Whitmore) and Waldorf (Goelz) are as funny as ever, Kermit the Frog (Whitmore) remains eminently charming, Miss Piggy (Jacobson) is still hilarious, and even The Swedish Chef (Barretta) shows up to great effect despite limited screen-time. Frank Oz was not involved in this film (he used to voice Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear, Animal and Sam the Eagle), but it's not obvious; his replacement (Eric Jacobson) has done a marvellous job. However, beloved characters like Pepe the Prawn were saddled with mere cameos. Most heartbreakingly, Rizzo the Rat does not even speak; he's on-screen for all of two seconds (I think that was him). Sure, it would take four hours to give the entire ensemble their due screen-time, but Rizzo does not even seem to be present, and has no sort of dynamic with the rest of the troupe.

Disney's marketing campaign for The Muppets was solid gold. For months, we were subjected to a number of hilarious parody trailers and satirical posters which skyrocketed this reviewer's hopes into the stratosphere. It's a shame, then, that the finished feature film is not as witty as its marketing campaign. The more one ponders the film (especially in regards to its contrivances and a completely inappropriate instance of product placement for Cars 2), the more it falls apart, but it's impossible to completely dislike the film due to how overly jolly and astute it is. If nothing else, Jason Segel, Nicholas Stoller and James Bobin have made the Muppets relevant and topical again, and have proved they still have mileage in the 21st Century. And considering that this century is dominated with soulless family films, The Muppets is nicely refreshing. The closing credits (which bring back an iconic tune) in particular left this reviewer with a big dumb grin on his face.

6.1/10

"He was like a dog...for everyone!"

Red Dog is a real charmer of an Aussie movie. Directed by Kriv Stenders, the film is based on the true story of a Kelpie who won the hearts of Western Australia during the '70s. With its myriad of heart and soul, Red Dog is a heart-warming, endearing, humorous and affecting portrayal of a mining town's love for the titular canine. The film's astute depiction of the relationship between man and dog, on top of the strong filmmaking and charming screenplay ensure that Red Dog can immediately join the canon of great dog flicks.

An adaptation of Louis de Bernières' book of the same name, Red Dog tells the true story of a dog that befriended the mining community of Dampier. The film is predominantly spent in flashback, as it begins in 1979. A trucker named Tom (Ford) arrives in Dampier on a fateful night, and stops at the local pub where Red Dog lays dying from strychnine poisoning. Keeping vigil a room away, barman Jack (Taylor) and the other distraught locals begin to regale Tom with stories of their fondest memories of Red Dog. According to legend, Red Dog hitched a ride into Dampier one day and fast became a mascot for the melting pot of a population. The dog was everyone's and no-one's; he jumped into anyone's lap or car. Until, that is, he finally chose his master: an American bus driver named John (Lucas), who drifted into the town to make a living.

Admittedly, Red Dog gets off to a rocky start. The first 10 or 15 minutes are slow-going and rather uninvolving as the dizzyingly large ensemble begin to make appearances without sufficient back-story or build-up. The film soon finds its groove, though, and the second half in particular is thoroughly enthralling. Another problem is that this is an ensemble movie lacking a key human character through whom the story can gain traction - the script juggles protagonists without settling on anyone. Since Tom is the newcomer in town and he himself is being educated about Red Dog, he should be a strong entry point into the narrative for viewers, but instead the role is underdeveloped, devoid of personality and pretty much thankless; nothing but an device to allow the locals to tell their stories. We're probably meant to project themselves onto the bland cipher that is Tom's character, but that just seems like an excuse for laziness.

Pointing out such flaws, however, feels rather mean-spirited in what is otherwise a good-natured, easily lovable Australian gem that'll make you laugh and cry. And the fact that this is essentially a non-fiction story only adds to the picture's wonder. Some license was taken, but there was indeed a beloved canine known as Red Dog who touched the lives of several Western Australian residents in a huge way. To the men of that region it's a profound story, and it's also a very true blue Aussie tale due to its combination of beer drinking, outback red dust and sense of working-man mateship. There are a lot of cheeky laughs to be had throughout Red Dog as well, though the humour is uniquely Australian. Indeed, it's hard to imagine international residents connecting or responding to this picture as deeply as Australians. With that said, though, anyone of any country will get a lump in their throat at various points due to the story's inherent tragic elements. Fortunately, director Stenders did not overdo the grief, which ensures that the emotions feel genuine rather than shamelessly manipulative. Not to mention, the tragedy is balanced with an emotionally uplifting final scene. However, a couple of villains pop up in the form of upright caravan park caretakers, and they are far too broad and over-the-top.

Kriv Stenders' direction and storytelling is clean and engaging, eschewing pretension, showiness and heavy-handedness for an appropriately simple approach (though there are a few instances of incredibly bad digital effects). Cinematographer Geoff Hall also gets a massive kudos for skilfully capturing the natural beauty of the Australian outback. The lovely soundtrack, meanwhile, is full of vintage rock songs from the era, supplemented by an atmospheric score courtesy of Cezary Skubiszewski. Furthermore, this is an unusual type of family film which contains drunkenness and pub brawling. Yet, the inclusion of such material adds to the flick's authenticity, as the tale's main players actually spent their time either working or drinking in real life. Thus, it's refreshing to see a family-friendly film like Red Dog which is not completely vanilla when it comes to depicting reality.

The cast, for the most part, is superb. American Josh Lucas is warm and charismatic as Red Dog's only master, while Rachael Taylor is suitably lovely as Nancy, who was a huge part of Red Dog's life. Noah Taylor is also highly effective as Jack, and the late, great Bill Hunter even pops up for a delightful cameo. But the star of the film is Koko the dog, who fulfilled leading man responsibilities with utmost confidence. Sure, Koko is just a dog, but he's one hell of a performer who's both lovable and convincing, and who eloquently responds to the requirements of each scene. Koko is one of the reasons why Red Dog is such a success. After all, as Jack points out at one stage, the dog was so significant not because he did something remarkable, but because of who he was. Thanks to Koko, we can understand why Red Dog was so beloved.

In spite of its shortcomings, Red Dog works extremely well and is filled with several terrific scenes. Red Dog will move you, entertain you and make you laugh, and you cannot deny the endearing nature of the titular dog. This is a delightful winner of an Aussie movie, and only a true cynic would find it unenjoyable. Yeah, it's not quite on the same level as The Castle, but what is?

7.9/10

"Crazy is being miserable and walking around half asleep, numb, day after day after day. Crazy is pretending to be happy. Pretending that the way things are is the way they have to be for the rest of your bleeding life. All the potential, hope, all that joy, feeling, all that passion that life has sucked out of you. Reach out, grab a hold of it and snatch it back from that bloodsucking rabble."

Contrary to most, this reviewer is an enormous Mel Gibson apologist, and it's tragic that every nuance of his private life has been broadcast to the oversensitive public who subsequently judge the man on isolated incidents without knowing the proper context. With his personal demons under the scrutiny of the public eye, the star is now shunned by an industry who once adored him. It's somewhat appropriate, then, that Gibson's first movie since the infamous leaked recordings is 2011's The Beaver, which has Gibson playing someone who loses it all and sets out to rediscover the man he used to be. In spite of its lukewarm critical reception, this is a wonderful indie drama which touches upon serious issues with sensitivity and maturity. Jodie Foster's direction evinces genuine care and passion, and Gibson's performance at the centre of the story is absolutely magnificent.

An aging husband and father, Walter Black (Gibson) has hit rock bottom. He's running his late father's toy company into the ground, his marriage is crumbling, and he's severely depressed. His long-suffering wife Meredith (Foster) can no longer live with her empty shell of a husband, and asks Walter to leave. While wallowing in drunken despair and contemplating suicide, Walter finds himself communicating with his alter ego - a beaver puppet on his hand that he salvaged from a dumpster - who promises to save Walter's pathetic life. Soon, Walter immerses himself into his alter ego, communicating with those around him solely via the beaver puppet. As the forthright, confident Beaver, Walter saves his toy company from collapse and begins to repair his family life. However, use of the puppet soon begins to take its toll on Walter's fragile sanity.

Initially, it seems as if the puppet is the key to Walter's salvation. As The Beaver, Walter is more dynamic, more lively, and more capable at handling life's challenges. But Walter grows progressively weaker as The Beaver grows stronger, and when Meredith forces her husband to be himself, he returns to his shaky, empty mental state. Not everyone will be willing to go along with the puppet device, but it worked flawlessly for this reviewer. There's one particular scene in which Walter (as The Beaver) offers metaphysical insight into the human condition on The Today Show that's both shrewd and moving. Some moments throughout the film admittedly feel a bit too on-the-nose and scripted (a graduation speech is a key offender), not to mention corny ("We're talking about a miracle!"), but the picture has more hits than misses.

For a good 45 minutes after Walter adopts the puppet, The Beaver is generally rather flippant - Walter reintegrates himself into his family unit wonderfully (though his eldest son resents the concept), and Walter reinvigorates his business in a heart-warming fashion. It's enjoyable to watch Walter interact strictly through his puppet avatar, and several moments of comedy flow from this. But while it has its light moments, The Beaver is not a comedy, as the film is more concerned with depicting depression in a realistic fashion. The film explores the repercussions on relationships and families when severe depression envelops someone who consequently loses all hope. Depression can reverberate throughout others, bringing a depressed person's loved ones down as well. Foster is a relatively inexperienced director, but the tonal changes are surprisingly assured; she has managed to generate a delicate balancing act between dark comedy and powerful drama. Foster is also aided by Marcelo Zarvos' often engaging, offbeat score, though a few sound-bites fail to sit right (intense action movie-esque music during the emotional scene in which Walter struggles to overcome the Beaver's grasp?).

Mel Gibson's presence may turn some people off the film, but all of his baggage actually makes it easier for us to identify with his character's spiritual woes. Gibson's essaying of Walter is stunning, as his face is etched with palpable pain and sadness. He really threw himself into this part, and he's fantastic as both the depressed Walter and the brash Beaver (whose cockney accent is a mix of Ray Winstone and Michael Caine). Creating two disparate personalities would be a difficult undertaking for any performer, but Gibson confidently pulled it off with nuance and charm to spare. In The Beaver's introductory scene, Walter is essentially talking with himself, but Gibson handled the dialogue exchanges marvellously; his face constantly switches between the despondent Walter and the vibrant Beaver to immaculate effect. Say whatever you wish about Gibson's controversial personal life, but you cannot deny that he's a magnificent actor. Jodie Foster is not quite as good in the role of Walter's wife, but both Anton Yelchin and Jennifer Lawrence are spot-on as Porter and Norah (respectively). What's most commendable about Yelchin and Lawrence is that they never seem sappy during emotional moments.

Admittedly, The Beaver is not quite as developed as it should have been, most notably in its moral lessons than could have been fleshed out more. Nevertheless, this reviewer immensely enjoyed The Beaver; it's touching, it has a handful of great scenes, and boasts some wonderful acting. It packs a huge emotional punch at the end as well, and refuses to end on an entirely clichéd note (not everything is neatly resolved). This is not a perfect film, but it is challenging and original.

8.0/10

"Careful, humans don't like smart ape."

After six feature films (including a remake) and two TV shows, a prequel exploring the apes' rise to global dominance seems to be the only avenue left to tackle in the exhausted Planet of the Apes franchise. Borrowing bits and pieces from earlier films (most notably Conquest of the Planet of the Apes), 2011's Rise of the Planet of the Apes starts from scratch, rebooting the tired saga and asking that we forget all the prior Apes pictures. Written by Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (their first screenplay since 1997's The Relic), Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a fresh, baggage-free outing that disposes of the franchise's pre-existing timeline to resurrect the Apes brand and pave the way for a whole new series. Surprisingly, the gamble pays off. Directed by Rupert Wyatt (2008's The Escapist), Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a rare summer blockbuster that shows more interest in storytelling and character development than mind-numbing action.


In San Francisco, ambitious scientist Will Rodman (James Franco) is testing a particular virus on apes that can potentially cure Alzheimer's Disease. After an accident leaves both the project and Will's star experimental subject dead, he takes home the baby ape left behind to save its life. He only intends to take care of the ape momentarily but ends up keeping the pet to comfort his dying father, Charles (John Lithgow). Naming him Caesar, the chimp grows up to be an obedient pet with a heightened intellect and a curiosity about the outside world. However, the household's tranquillity is shattered when Caesar's fiercely protective instincts lead to his imprisonment in a shady primate shelter. He is abused and mistreated by both the staff and other inmates, leading Caesar to lose his faith in humanity. The intelligent ape longs for freedom and looks to harness the power of Will's viral creation to create an ape army and spearhead an uprising against humankind.

In addition to being more patient and meticulous than typical summer blockbusters, Rise of the Planet of the Apes tackles several social and political topics. It brutally depicts Caesar's abuse while imprisoned, observing the tragic darkening of his soul and sending a message about animal mistreatment. It also raises ideas about the morality of using animals for drug testing, and about the evils of greedy pharmaceutical companies more interested in their bottom line than ethics. On top of this, Caesar's abnormally high intelligence raises provocative questions - what rights does Caesar have? Should he be treated as an equal? Is it morally acceptable for him to be owned and treated like a pet? While Rise of the Planet of the Apes does not explore this stuff with genuine profundity (this is a summer action movie), the film's alacrity is to be admired - Jaffa and Silver clearly want to leave you thinking about various things instead of feeling numb from countless explosions.

After Caesar's incarceration, the film is enthralling in the way it wordlessly portrays the ape growing from an uncertain newcomer to a feared leader, using his superior intellect to plot an escape plan and unite his ape army. During this section, the human characters are less interesting. The entire subplot concerning Will's father is downright affecting, but the rest of the human stuff is somewhat clumsy and lazy. The fact that the apes' interactions are so enthralling despite the lack of dialogue is a testament to Rupert Wyatt's strong direction and storytelling. It's also a testament to the workmanship of Weta Workshop, whose vibrant, expressive motion-capture technology effortlessly conveys the complexities of the ape characters. The eyes are astonishingly soulful, allowing these digital creations to express genuine depth and feeling.

Viewers expecting tonnes of ape combat may be disappointed by the prolonged build-up, but the rest of us will have no trouble appreciating the dramatic growth and character-building. Even despite the lack of action, this is a briskly-paced motion picture that never noticeably lags. Plus, the payoff of marvellous - the film's climax set atop the Golden Gate Bridge is a true highlight. It's an epic battle pitting the awakened apes against armed forces, and - on top of being coherently shot and edited - it carries emotional weight and suspense. It almost goes without saying that the CGI is phenomenal, bordering dangerously close on photorealism. The only troublesome thing about the digital effects is that they sometimes lack weight and inertia. For example, it does not look quite right when Will picks up a three-year-old Caesar, and, later on, Caesar climbs into a car that is not weighed down by the ape's mass.

Andy Serkis is the go-to guy for motion capture characters, having already played Gollum in Lord of the Rings and King Kong in Peter Jackson's 2005 epic. Here, Serkis is sublime as the conflicted Caesar, giving the character convincing life and conveying Caesar's interior revelations and craving for freedom. Serkis is the film's soul; he truly becomes an ape, and he is both lovable and fundamentally human. The rest of the cast are serviceable but are not on the same level as Serkis. The biggest standout is John Lithgow, who nails the bewilderment associated with Alzheimer's and is both believable and empathetic in the role of Will's father. Meanwhile, James Franco is merely okay as Will, and the film completely wastes Freida Pinto (Slumdog Millionaire) as a thankless love interest with no relevance to the story.

Not everything works here, as a few corny references to the 1968 film do not entirely gel, but Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a marvellous resurrection of an ailing saga. Its ending leaves room wide open for a sequel, but this self-contained story is satisfying by itself, especially with an extra sequence during the end credits that briskly illustrates the fall of man. I'm hooked; bring on the sequel!

8.2/10

"Listen, something's come up, and I'm not just talking about my cock."

The Guard can probably be described as Lethal Weapon meets Quentin Tarantino by way of In Bruges. However, it does not feel like a derivative motion picture or a slapdash mash-up. Instead, this is a hilarious, well-written and satisfyingly tongue-in-cheek dark comedy which possesses its own unique identity. Written and directed by John Michael McDonagh (his feature film debut), The Guard also reminds us just how good a buddy cop movie can be when the genre is handled correctly. McDonagh's picture is not quite as solid as something like 48 HRS or Lethal Weapon, but it's definitely worthy of them. With its doggedly offbeat and original sensibility, The Guard is often laugh-out-loud funny, and it affords more pleasures through clever writing and strong performances than all of those obnoxious, noisy summer blockbusters which earned more box office attention.

Set in rural Ireland, the story concerns policeman Sergeant Gerry Boyle (Gleeson), who has little regard for the rules and regulations of his career. He is a man who drinks heavily, spends his days off with prostitutes, indulges in various drugs, and is generally insensitive. As Boyle investigates a local murder, FBI Agent Wendell Everett (Cheadle) is sent to the area upon hearing word that a major drug deal is going down. Unable to speak Gaelic (the local dialect) and encountering disinterested locals, Everett is compelled to form an uneasy alliance with Boyle to solve the case.

The Guard truly hits the ground running; its first half is chock full of hilarious jokes and witty character interaction. All of the vignettes spotlighting Boyle are pure gold. The Guard also operates as a witty pastiche of Hollywood movies - Mark Strong's character particularly enjoys undermining clichéd dialogue whenever it's used, and the final scene contains a hysterical discussion about the possibility of a movie adaptation of the story. However, the film's second half is not quite as successful as the first from a script standpoint. The sharp one-liners are in shorter supply (though there are still a handful of zingers) and the picture becomes more concerned with its rather dreary plot. McDonagh has trouble as The Guard approaches its finishing line, too; it seems that he hunted for the easiest solution, thus opting for a final act culminating in a shootout that doesn't quite gel. Such a Hollywood touch feels out-of-place in this otherwise devilishly clever, unconventional indie.

Compared to more mainstream films, The Guard lacks glossy sheen, but that's a positive - director John Michael McDonagh opted for a naturalistic, rather uncinematic visual scheme befitting of the dreary Irish setting. This is topped off with an often catchy, at times Western-esque score courtesy of Calexico. The film's plot involves standard stuff like drug running and murder, but such elements are inconsequential at the end of the day. More than anything else, this is The Brendan Gleeson Show - the story-related proceedings exist solely to advance the development of the character of Gerry Boyle. And that's fine, because the film works remarkably well as a character study of this sloppy policeman basted in sarcasm who's perpetually offending his peers. The best thing about Boyle is that he's not a depthless caricature; he is wholly three-dimensional, as he comes of age during the story.

It helps that Gleeson is so excellent here. A veteran character actor, Gleeson has been a supporting player for years, and he's predictably delightful in this lead role. Gleeson's biggest success is that he keeps us guessing as to whether Boyle truly realises he's being so offensive or whether he's actually just trolling his arse off to get a rise out of everyone (at one stage Everett tells him "I can't tell if you're really motherfucking dumb or really motherfucking smart"). Fortunately, the supporting cast are just as good. In the role of Everett, Don Cheadle is a terrific straight man, and his grounded disposition serves to further highlight how abnormal Boyle truly is. Even the bit players are great here, from the drug dealers (Mark Strong is notably funny) to the sweet-natured prostitutes hired by Boyle, and even the horse than Everett questions.

Throughout The Guard, you're likely to be reminded of 2008's exceptional In Bruges. And there's a logical reason for that: In Bruges was written and directed by John Michael McDonagh's brother Martin (who also executed produced The Guard). While John's story is not quite as excessively violent as In Bruges, the films are markedly similar in their dry, sardonic humour, frequently profane dialogue and atmospheric sense of place, not to mention their great use of Brendan Gleeson. In Bruges has greater depth and resonance, but if you loved that film then you're sure to enjoy The Guard. While not perfect, the picture is a hoot thanks to witty writing and a sensational performance by Gleeson. Indeed, he has created the most memorable character of 2011.

7.7/10

"I'm knee-deep in the single most important case of my career."

Even though it competed against Avatar during its theatrical run, 2009's Sherlock Holmes grossed in excess of $500 million at the worldwide box office, making a sequel a high priority for Warner Brothers. Arriving two years after its predecessor, 2011's Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a well-realised follow-up that does an admirable job of ironing out the original film's creases while both retaining and building upon its strengths. It's perhaps not quite as good as it could have been, but A Game of Shadows remains meticulously crafted and fiendishly clever.

As Dr. Watson (Law) prepares to marry his fiancée Mary (Reilly), Sherlock Holmes (Downey Jr.) is hot on the trail of his greatest adversary: Oxford professor James Moriarty (Harris). A series of anarchist bombings are taking place around London, and Holmes suspects that Moriarty is involved. Following his nuptials, Watson finds himself a target in Moriarty's evil machinations, and reluctantly teams up with Holmes once again to investigate the evil mastermind. As they work their way around Europe, Holmes and Watson happen upon mysterious gypsy fortune teller Sim (Rapace), whose brother has been kidnapped by Moriarty. Holmes' older brother Mycroft (Fry) also lends his expertise to the case as they grow closer to unravelling Moriarty's wicked plot of assassinations, bombings and the potential beginning of a world war.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows may shock viewers who haven't yet acquainted themselves with Guy Ritchie's reinvention of the gentleman detective. Ritchie has spectacularly re-invigorated the ancient hero, retaining the character's unparalleled cerebral talents while adding 21st Century action-adventure sensibilities. Rather than a reserved pipe-smoker, this Sherlock Holmes is both physically and mentally lethal; he uses his gifts of analysis to engage in fighting and death-defying acts, and Ritchie employs engaging filmmaking techniques to highlight Holmes' bustling mind. It was a creative choice that worked in 2009's Sherlock Holmes, and it makes a welcome return here. Ritchie, of course, also retained his proclivity for stylish camera movements and kinetic energy, stuffing A Game of Shadows with a large number of thrilling action set-pieces and infusing the film with drive and momentum. Furthermore, the action set-pieces do not seem dumb or forced; they flow organically out of the structure of the narrative, and Holmes is such a crafty bastard that they never seem stupid. However, a few of the fights were shot too close, too fast and too dark, and Ritchie went overboard with his use of slow motion (the forest chase in particular is borderline disgusting in its overuse of slo-mo and "bullet time").

While it has lots of action, A Game of Shadows also relies on the complex relationship that Holmes and Dr. Watson share. There's time for their relationship to grow, and their bantering is often witty and amusing. Speaking of character interaction, the film is gripping when it pits Holmes against Moriarty. The exhilarating finale involves the two going head-to-head in an intense game of chess which tests both their mental and physical strength. It's the best sequence in the film; far more effective than any of the gunfights or brawls, and it's a shame that Ritchie and his writers didn't permit more time for the pair to engage in verbal combat.

Produced on a lavish budget, the picture looks expectedly fantastic. The somewhat rickety CGI of the 2009 original has been drastically improved, and the digital effects have been combined with lavish sets and costumes which exemplify careful attention to period detail. Hans Zimmer also returned to compose the score (his standout efforts on the first film earned an Oscar), and his flavoursome musical accompaniment is a huge asset.

Robert Downey Jr. is visibly more comfortable in the role of Sherlock Holmes here, and it's clear that he has found his groove. Downey's accent feels astonishingly lived-in, he oozes charisma, and he generally suits this vision of the character to the ground. Jude Law, meanwhile, is back here as Dr. Watson. Law's contributions should not be overlooked, as he's a sturdy and focused sidekick for Downey. Also terrific is Jared Harris, whose performance as Professor Moriarty is exceptional. Harris' biggest strength is the way that he can deliver menacing dialogue with chilling restraint while simultaneously convincing us that he's capable of committing heinous acts of crime. Another newcomer is Stephen Fry, whose performance as Mycroft is well-judged, charming and amusing. Noomi Rapace is not quite as good, but she's serviceable as the gypsy fortune teller who helps Holmes and Watson in their investigation. Rounding out the main players is Kelly Reilly and Rachel McAdams who briefly show up to reprise their roles of Mary Watson and Irene Adler (respectively).

While Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is an exciting, funny and intelligent action-adventure, it's not exactly the most soulful or substance-laden blockbuster you'll see. Ritchie's storytelling is admittedly still a bit garbled as well, though his abilities have markedly improved since the original movie. Even with its flaws considered, though, this is a strong sequel. With it having been infused with the same flavour as 2009's Sherlock Holmes, 2011's A Game of Shadows is a cosy companion piece for its predecessor. Further instalments are practically inevitable, and that's fine, because this new Sherlock Holmes franchise is shaping up to be something special.

7.5/10

"My trouble is Christmas. I just don't understand it. Instead of feeling happy, I feel sort of let down."

When A Charlie Brown Christmas first premiered back in December 1965, neither the network nor the filmmakers had high expectations. After all, the Christmas special was deliberately-paced, had a jazz score, contained adult humour, and was equipped with an anti-commercialism message that wouldn't like be well-received during the holiday shopping season. Added to this, the story does not involve Santa visiting the protagonists - it climaxes with Bible verses being recited. But lo and behold, in spite of concerns, A Charlie Brown Christmas played during primetime to much critical acclaim, becoming one of the most beloved Christmas specials of all time.

As Christmas is approaching, Charlie Brown (Robbins) feels depressed and disillusioned. He knows he should be excited by the festivities and the prospect of presents, but Charlie nonetheless feels down in the dumps and isn't sure whether the festive season is worth much enthusiasm. He seeks to find a deeper meaning to Christmas, but his friends only ridicule him for the effort. After seeking advice from Lucy (Stratford) and Linus (Shea), Charlie agrees to direct his school's annual Christmas play which might cheer him up.

Charles M. Schulz's Peanuts characters first debuted in comic strips back in 1950, and the gang held appeal for children and adults alike due to Schulz's insightful commentary on human nature. For A Charlie Brown Christmas, Schulz chose to explore the commercialisation of the Christmas season and the true meaning of the holiday. In this day and age, the holiday spirit seems to be more about receiving gifts and putting up gaudy decorations; about greediness rather than anything more meaningful. Thus, unlike most Christmas specials (or Christmas flicks in general), A Charlie Brown Christmas seeks to answer the question of why Christmas is so special, rather than just reaffirming it. And considering how much of a sad sack Charlie Brown is, the character was an ideal candidate to question blind good cheer.

A Charlie Brown Christmas is blessed with simplistic but expressive animation. While it may look primitive in terms of detail compared to contemporary animation, it's smooth and assured, and it carries an old-world charm that's hard to replicate. Another asset is the score by jazz artist Vince Guaraldi, which adds a unique flavour to this special. Jazz was an odd choice which paid off, and the music went on to become a best-selling album that's still played annually in households across the world. Furthermore, Bill Melendez's decision to cast actual children was a masterstroke. Thus, the kids voicing the Peanuts gang actually sound like kids rather than adults trying to sound youthful. As a result, every word is adorable, and the dialogue is delivered with convincing conviction which allows the characters to come alive.

From its humorous opening to its touching ending, A Charlie Brown Christmas is a sweet, good-hearted 25 minutes of holiday magic which hammers home a terrific message about the spirit of the Christmas season. Even if it is a bit too lax, you'd have to be a cold-hearted Scrooge to not be won over by A Charlie Brown Christmas.

7.8/10

"Legend tells of a band of noble warriors... known as the Guardians of Ga'hoole. Whenever trouble is at hand, seek them out. For they are sworn to protect the innocent, and vanquish evil."

Who would've thought that director Zack Snyder would undertake such a project as Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole? Snyder first burst onto the scene with his exceedingly violent Dawn of the Dead remake before moving onto the blood-soaked 300 and the thoroughly adult Watchmen. 2010's PG-rated Legend of the Guardians is Snyder's fourth directorial undertaking, and it's a surprising career move which has unexpectedly paid off. Despite its ridiculously long-winded title and the rote nature of its coming-of-age narrative (reminiscent of Bambi), this is an aesthetically stunning 3-D experience steeped in visual majesty that's a great fit for Snyder's dark moviemaking instincts.

Living with his family high among the treetops, impressionable young owl Soren (Sturgess) loves to hear tales about warrior owls known as the guardians of Ga'Hoole. When Soren and his cynical brother Kludd (Kwanten) sneak out of home one night to practise flying without adult supervision, the two owls are promptly kidnapped and taken to the lair of the wicked "Pure Ones" led by Nyra (Mirren) and Metalbeak (Edgerton). Soren and Kludd find themselves amongst several kidnapped owls and owlets, who are being hypnotised to engage in slave labour to help construct a doomsday device with harvested metal flecks. While Kludd chooses to join the Pure Ones army, Soren and newfound young friend Gylfie (Barclay) stage an escape, and head off in search of the guardians to warn them of the Pure One's evil plans.

Written by John Orloff (Band of Brothers) and Emil Stern, Legend of the Guardians compresses the first three books of Kathryn Lasky's Guardians of Ga'Hoole series into one 90-minute feature. A lot of ground needed to be covered, causing the script to falter as it struggles to introduce the franchise's mythology and characters on top of covering all of the important plot points. The result feels fairly underdone, with director Snyder rushing through so many events without giving us a chance to digest them all. Legend of the Guardians is also a breeding ground for clichés - its story is very much a traditional hero's journey, and it contains such elements as a prophecy and a brother who turns evil. Unfortunately, too, Snyder clearly had a bit of trouble adapting to the animation medium, as his storytelling is somewhat on the bland side. Snyder has never been the most competent storyteller, and his flaws are only exacerbated by the transition to animation. Added to this, the owls are a bit hard to distinguish from one another due to underwhelming characterisations.

In spite of its flaws, Legend of the Guardians is visually stunning. Toy Story 3 and How to Train Your Dragon are 2010's best all-round animated movies, but Legend of the Guardians possesses the best animation; it's one of the most visually intricate movies in history. The details and nuances of the animals are jaw-dropping; every feather on every owl looks real, and the textured backgrounds are remarkably close to photorealism. The characters seem truly alive, and in 3-D you truly feel as if you can reach out and touch the featured creatures. Snyder has always excelled as an action director, and these talents are visible throughout Legend of the Guardians - he's done a sensational job of staging owl combat. One could be fooled into believing Snyder has gone soft on us by undertaking this picture, but he did not abandon his darker side. This is a family film in which owls wear battle armour and attack one another with stomach-churning ferocity. Indeed, the PG rating should be noted, as this is not a suitable picture for anyone under the age of 10 or 12. The only catastrophic misstep from a technical standpoint is a cringe-worthy training montage set to a pop tune from the band Owl City.

The voice cast contains a lot of recognisable Australian talent, including Geoffrey Rush, Anthony LaPaglia, David Wenham, Hugo Weaving (playing two roles), Barry Otto, Joel Edgerton, Richard Roxburgh, Bill Hunter, Angus Sampson and Leigh Whannell. In terms of international talent, we have Sam Neill, Helen Mirren and Miriam Margolyes. Even if a lot of these names seem like stunt casting, the acting is nevertheless uniformly strong. Rush is the biggest standout; he's extremely authoritative and believable as Ezylryb.

Ultimately, Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole is a bit of a mixed bag. One cannot deny its visually stunning nature, yet it needed more soul and stronger storytelling. It's hard to hold too much against the movie, though, as its 3-D animation is game-changing and it contains several outstanding action set-pieces.

7.1/10