Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Here's the thing about exorcism-related horror movies: exorcisms are incredibly uninteresting in a cinematic production. Sure, it's exciting to consider a battle royale between an agent of Satan and an agent of God, but exorcisms merely boil down to a priest screaming religious words with wild abandon while a possessed figure writhers around. 1973's The Exorcist was pretty much the first film to do it right, and is now widely looked upon as the greatest horror movie of all time. 2011's The Rite is yet another hopeful but thoroughly half-hearted attempt by filmmakers to scare viewers just as much as The Exorcist did almost four decades ago. The Rite has all the scares and smarts of a Z-grade direct-to-DVD thriller, not to mention it's amazingly hokey and at times unintentionally hilarious. As a matter of fact, the film is tolerable enough if viewed as a comedy, but it's a putrid failure if viewed as a serious horror movie.

The Exorcist, anyone?

Raised by his disinterested undertaker father (Hauer), atheist Michael Kovak (O'Donoghue) elects to enter the priesthood as a way to ensure he won't be forced into the family business. The ensuing seminary training challenges Michael's atheism, but the young man prepares to leave the school as he nevertheless cannot bring himself to believe in God. However, his mentor (Jones) senses something special within Michael, and recommends that he move to Rome to study exorcism at the Vatican. Hesitantly agreeing, Michael arrives in Rome and is sent to spent time with veteran exorcist Father Lucas (Hopkins) to help him overcome his crisis of faith. Following his initial scepticism, Michael experiences a strange case of possession which compels him to reconsider his stance as an atheist.

The opening credits declare that The Rite is "inspired by true events", and goes on to say that the film was "suggested" by Matt Baglio's book The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist. As with most movies claiming to be inspired by a true story, it actually has very little basis in historical fact. Ironically, Baglio wrote his book with the purpose in mind of showing the real world of church-sanctioned exorcisms rather than the overblown Hollywood version, but now his book has been loosely adapted into an overblown Hollywood movie...

Despite its misjudged pacing, The Rite shows a degree of thoughtfulness and potential for its first hour or so, as the film attempts to delve into religious themes and explore the real world of possession and exorcisms. Less successful in this regard is the material portraying Michael trying to use rational explanations to explain alleged demonic possessions. See, because The Rite is a fucking Hollywood supernatural horror movie, we know that there are demons involved and that Michael will eventually realise this. There is also an additional smattering of clichéd material relating to Michael's relationship with his father, and screenwriter Michael Petroni even haphazardly implies that demons had something to do with the death of a character. Come on! All of this predictable fluff is ripped straight from the Screenwriting 101 handbook, complete with inept, corny dialogue.

Swedish-born director Mikael Håfström was last seen behind the genuinely creepy 2007 chiller 1408, and his talent for atmosphere building is occasionally exhibited in The Rite. Additionally, the cinematography is admittedly slick. Yet, Håfström falters in the pacing department. With a frequently self-serious tone and little momentum, The Rite is rather flat, not to mention it runs 15 or 20 minutes too long. Another problem is that the filmmakers wanted to produce a film that looks and feels authentic and un-Hollywood, yet one that also incorporates standard Hollywood horror movie elements. Suffice it to say, it does not work.

The jury is out as to whether it was intentional, but the second half of The Rite dabbles in comedy to a large degree. At one stage there's an image of a possessed donkey which is guaranteed to have viewers rolling around in fits of laughter. Meanwhile, the climactic exorcism sequence is so daffy that it could be mistaken for something out of a spoof movie. It's hard to take anything seriously if a possessed Anthony Hopkins (decked out in make-up) is taunting a priest with such names as "honey" and "kissy lips". As a matter of fact, it looks as if Hopkins committed the ultimate act of cinematic trolling here with his hilariously over-the-top, hammy performance. Witness him taking a phone call in the middle of an exorcism, bitch slapping a little girl, taking the piss out of the bible, ripping off two pissants, and blurting out words like "Awesome, dude". It's as if Hopkins realised the movie was going to be awful, so he stuffed the huge fat paycheque down his trousers and had an absolute ball. The man's getting old, he needs to have some fun. What better than to troll his way through a terrible movie and get paid to do it? God bless him. The rest of the actors - such as Colin O'Donoghue as Michael, Alice Braga as the journalist, Toby Jones as a priest, and Rutger Hauer as Michael's father - are at least watchable, but do not bring much gravitas to the material.

There is nothing to recommend about The Rite except for Anthony Hopkins' incredibly hammy performance, since there are no real thrills to be had and the story is generic and uninteresting. It's clear that the screenwriter had high ambitions, but they're ultimately wasted on a film that alternates between tedium and unintentional hilarity.

4.4/10

January is generally perceived as a cinematic dumping ground for studios, who can unleash their bothersome, lacklustre titles to little box office competition. Another common perception is that any movie which has been continually delayed is practically guaranteed to suck (though there are a few exceptions). It should be unsurprising, then, that Season of the Witch - a January 2011 release which was filmed in 2009 before undergoing reshoots and release date changes - is such a drab, Z-grade-level piece of cinematic garbage that happened to attract a few A-listers. Season of the Witch could have been an enjoyably campy medieval actioner (like a Roger Corman film) or a brilliant straight-faced period drama (like Black Death with Sean Bean), but it's instead stuck in between; coming across as an incompetent, generally uninvolving supernatural fantasy-actioner burdened by bad creative decisions. With that said, though, it's not a complete disaster - rather, it just remains wholly uninspired.

Disenchanted knights who fought in the Crusades, Behmen (Cage) and Felson (Perlman) desert the army upon suffering a crisis of conscience over the shedding of innocent blood. Returning home, the men happen upon a kingdom overwhelmed by the Black Death, whereupon they're forced into service by the local cardinal (Lee) to escort an accused witch (Foy) to Severac where the monks can decide her fate. It is suspected that this witch is responsible for the plague, and her death may cause its ravages to cease. Behmen and Felson face imprisonment and death if they deny the assignment, and thus agree in exchange for a pardon. The pair soon hit the road, accompanied by a monk (Moore), an aspiring warrior (Sheehan) and an alleged con artist (Graham). However, as the motley crew traverse the hostile hinterlands, curiosity is piqued about their prisoner and the true extent of her powers.

The dull events that ensue blatantly defy logic. For instance, a protagonist is attacked by a wolf but only suffers a few minor scratches. And the plague is highly contagious, yet the characters don't catch it despite frequently making contact with infected bodies. These characters are even so dumb that they do not shackle their prisoner, giving her ideal leeway to escape on foot.

Beneath its dreary surface, there is evidence that Season of the Witch's writer (Bragi F. Schut) wanted to explore a few deep, provocative concepts, but the attempts are half-hearted and underdone. For instance, the idea is introduced that knights did not realise the corruption which surrounded the Crusades, but it ends up getting little thought. Meanwhile, only sound bites are included to set up the idea that the church has shed a lot of innocent blood. Another potentially intriguing idea relates to whether or not the accused witch is innocent, yet the mystery is not fleshed out enough. See, Season of the Witch has no time for thoughtfulness in amidst its drab narrative machinations and repetitive bloodshed that culminates with a final act bordering on self-parody.

Season of the Witch was directed by Dominic Sena, whose last filmic endeavour was the woefully flat 2009 actioner Whiteout. Sena has shown the ability to enliven material (see Swordfish), but he was clearly on autopilot here; hampered by lack of budget, awful digital effects, a flat screenplay, and a cinematographer who should not be allowed to work in the industry again. Outside of the obvious green screen work, Season of the Witch was filmed on location in Austria and Hungary, but these gorgeous locales were wasted thanks to the bleak, dimly-lit, nauseating cinematography; a calamitous mishmash of shaky-cam nonsense and terrible lighting. While a fair amount of action is sprinkled throughout the film, it is often impossible to enjoy. On top of this, the film wears its docile PG-13 rating on its sleeve, as shots of blood are barely comprehensible due to how dark they are. The production values are admittedly competent and the film is spontaneously enjoyable, but there is not enough here to entirely redeem the film, or persuade one to recommend the film in good conscience.

In terms of acting, Ron Perlman seems to be the only cast member having fun. In fact, it would not have looked out of place if Perlman was seen chomping on a cigar now and again. Supplying a few nice one-liners and at least a bit of charm, it's a damn shame that Perlman wasn't selected for the lead role, because Nic Cage is incredibly wooden and lifeless as Behmen. Cage made no visible effort to be convincing in the role of a 14th Century English crusader - he did not even attempt the proper accent (though that's probably for the best). None of the other cast members deserve considerable mention, though Christopher Lee does appear oh-so-briefly under a layer of make-up so thick that you can't recognise him. It's as if Lee did not want to be recognised. Go figure.

The fact that Season of the Witch runs a mere 90 minutes is both a blessing and a curse. On the curse side, the short runtime could not facilitate proper characterisation and motivation, and plot points and themes are incredibly underdone. On the blessing side, a 90-minute torture session is much more preferable than a torture session running two hours or more... So, yeah, Season of the Witch is utter tosh. The pacing is too sluggish, the tension is too scattershot, and the dialogue is too clunky and laughable. It's constantly at odds with itself, trying to find the delicate balance between seriousness and schlock when it should have committed to one or the other.

3.9/10

With mainstream 21st-century horror mostly amounting to toothless PG-13 endeavours with ineffective jump scares, as well as sequels and remakes, it is refreshing to dabble in genre classics and see how real horror movies are done. When it comes to classic horror films, critics and audiences consider director John Carpenter's works to be among the genre's finest for good reason; after all, the horror luminary was responsible for Halloween, The Fog, The Thing, and Prince of Darkness, to name a few. One of Carpenter's most underrated pictures is 1995's In the Mouth of Madness, a H.P. Lovecraft-inspired supernatural horror film that failed at the box office before quietly developing into a cult classic. A proper horror movie that blurs the line between reality and fantasy, In the Mouth of Madness benefits from a strong sense of atmosphere, imagination, innovation and style, proving yet again why Carpenter is such an icon.

A cynical, hardboiled freelance insurance investigator, John Trent (Sam Neill) constantly deals with fraudulent claims and loves busting phonies. For his latest assignment, publishing director Jackson Harglow (Charlton Heston) tasks Trent with tracking down the missing Sutter Cane (Jürgen Prochnow). Cane is the world's best-selling horror author, and he disappears on the eve of delivering his highly anticipated new novel (quaintly titled In the Mouth of Madness), which has readers and retailers in a frenzy. Suspecting a publicity stunt, Trent begins his investigation and grows to believe that Cane is hiding in a small, forgotten American town that serves as the principal location for his novels. Following the clues, Trent embarks on a hunt for the deserted town of Hobb's End, accompanied by Cane's editor, Linda Styles (Julie Carmen). However, after finding Hobb's End, Trent discovers that this case is like nothing he has previously handled.

Screenwriter Michael De Luca (New Line Cinema's former President of Production), who initially wrote the script in the late 1980s, cites H.P. Lovecraft as an inspiration for In the Mouth of Madness, with the central concept involving exiled monsters lurking in an extradimensional limbo, trying to return to earth. Additionally, a theme of insanity plays a role in the film, with Trent confined to an asylum, and the title is a play on Lovecraft's novella, At the Mountains of Madness. By any standard, this is an A-grade John Carpenter film that stands alongside the director's best and most seminal works. Conceptually rich and intricate, the story is fresh and original, showing more innovation than run-of-the-mill slasher pictures, torture porn movies or haunted house flicks. The fabric of the narrative ultimately collapses in the third act, giving way to mindfuckery and complete madness, with the conventional story structure breaking down in favour of an apocalyptic nightmare puppeteered by a master of horror. Trent has no idea what will happen next at any point in the story, and neither will the viewer. That is why it works. Carpenter and De Luca have no interest in genre clichés; Styles is not a mere love interest, characters die without sentimentality, and there is no happy ending. Carpenter considers In the Mouth of Madness the third part of his "Apocalypse Trilogy," following The Thing and Prince of Darkness, and the picture's events have worldwide apocalyptic ramifications.

In the Mouth of Madness allows Carpenter to showcase his unparalleled propensity for genre theatrics, building an apprehensive, uneasy atmosphere and delivering visceral shocks while keeping viewers on the edge of their seats. The filmmaker knows how to shock and disturb, conjuring up genuinely chilling images that will haunt your psyche for days. Although the film might not scare you, it is incredibly unsettling. With production taking place before digital effects became so prevalent, the monsters throughout In the Mouth of Madness are the result of fantastic prosthetics and animatronics, including an iconic wall of monsters. Not all of the special effects stand up to contemporary scrutiny, but this hardly matters, as the film is highly engaging due to Gary B. Kibbe's stylish, evocative cinematography and Carpenter's pervasive sense of atmosphere. The pacing is also strong, with Carpenter never lingering on a scene or set piece for too long, and the picture never succumbing to repetitiveness. At 95 minutes long, the movie gets into the nitty gritty following brisk character and story development, and subsequently piles on the scares with breathless intensity until the credits begin to roll. Thankfully, as expected from a Carpenter movie, the director also contributes to the score, leading to a soundtrack that oozes with dread and apprehension.

Despite his role in Jurassic Park, Sam Neill is not an obvious choice for a horror movie protagonist. However, the Kiwi actor steps up the challenge to pull off a wholly convincing, intense performance, and it is hard to imagine another actor playing Trent this effectively. Neill is particularly successful in his ability to convey the different facets of Trent's character, from his reaction to being locked in a mental asylum to the emotions he experiences while witnessing the terrifying events that drive him mad. Alongside him, Julie Carmen is not quite as good, coming across as weak and forgettable, and failing to make much of an impact despite making an effort. Fortunately, the rest of the actors are sublime. Jürgen Prochnow (Das Boot) is thoroughly chilling as Sutter Cane, emanating evil and delivering dialogue with a tone that will make the hairs on your neck stand up. Meanwhile, the always-reliable Charlton Heston (Planet of the Apes) is strong and authoritative, and David Warner (Titanic) displays a brilliant talent for mixing confidence and vulnerability as Trent's doctor. John Glover is also worth mentioning as a flamboyant asylum worker, Saperstein.

In the Mouth of Madness is not a guilty pleasure of a horror flick that demands a temporary lobotomy before viewing - instead, this is a brilliant, unforgettable, scary tour de force and a godsend for horror buffs. It is also a clever satire on the "movie violence causes violence in everyday society" argument. The ambiguous ending leaves things open for interpretation, further solidifying In the Mouth of Madness as a horror film that asks you to engage your brain while enjoying the competent scare show.

8.3/10

With South Park being a prominent entry on their résumés, Trey Parker and Matt Stone have never been afraid to take the piss out of anyone (or anything) topical, and they simply do not care if their Mickey-taking is in poor taste. Indeed, 1999's feature-length South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut demonstrates these tendencies, with the pair clearly relishing the opportunity to absolutely skewer everything from Saddam Hussein to Microsoft, and beyond. 2004's Team America: World Police also brings these propensities to the fore, but the twist is that the duo took their satire to a whole new level by using not live action or animation, but puppets. And thankfully, the resultant picture is fucking hilarious. It is perfectly acceptable for others to disagree and to find the film to be in bad taste, though. Indeed, a lot of people are destined to find Team America to be highly offensive and juvenile, and that's a perfectly reasonable reaction...

The titular Team America are an elite, renegade underground group of America patriots prepared to obliterate anything posing a threat to the United States. When they receive intelligence indicating that North Korean leader Kim Jong Il is selling Weapons of Mass Destruction to the highest bidder, the team need an inside man to go undercover and infiltrate the terrorist cell. With little choice, they turn to acclaimed Broadway star Gary Johnson (Parker) for help, and he begrudgingly agrees. As the team work towards saving the world, another threat rises when the Alec Baldwin-led Film Actors Guild (you figure out the acronym...) begin to help Kim Jong Il under misleading pretences. In the midst of all this, Gary develops feelings for team member Lisa (Miller), who is reluctant to commit to a relationship after her fiancée was killed by a terrorist during an earlier assignment.

Audiences may spend a lot of time dissecting the movie's political views, but the real beauty of Team America lies in its satire. Parker and Stone primarily aimed to take the piss out of Hollywood blockbusters, incorporating all of the customary elements like excessive violence, big explosions, contrived emotions, shallow heroes, and pretty much every single cliché the genre normally succumbs to. The use of marionettes may seem random in the grand scheme of things, yet it works in a satirical sense, serving to highlight the stereotypical cut-and-paste mentality of this particular school of action pictures: cardboard characters being thrown into conventional scenarios accompanied by a generous dosage of 'splosions and blood-letting. Taking their genius one step further, Parker and Stone replicated the style of big-budget action films, with slow motion being overused, the camera constantly moving, and with a hyperbolic musical score. For good measure, there's even a montage (set to the suitably-titled song Montage).

Trey Parker and South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut composer Marc Shaiman once again collaborated on Team America to conceive of a handful of new songs to offend and delight. The musical numbers begin not long into the film with the Rent soundalike tune Everyone Has AIDs, while a number of the film's most rousing moments are accompanied by the memorably boisterous song America, Fuck Yeah!. A whole new level of side-splitting hilarity is reached, though, with a song about how much Michael Bay's Pearl Harbor sucked. Heck, Kim Jong Il even gets his own sweet musical number at one stage, in which he explains that he's evil because he's just lonely...so ronrey... Also worth mentioning are the sublime production values. Team America may seem like a low-budget affair, but the film is positively beset with immaculate detail. Cinematographer Bill Pope (The Matrix, Spider-Man 2) gave the picture a vibrant sheen, while the sets and character design are equally delightful. Inspired by the classic Thunderbirds show of the 1960s, the puppets here are purposely shoddy in their movements - they bob up and down as they walk, and often their hand motions intentionally do not achieve what they intend. This stuff is comedy gold.

In terms of politics, Parker and Stone do not slant towards any party. All politicians are fair game to the pair, who chose to skewer the Democrats, Republicans and Independents with all guns blazing. Most filmmakers would have taken the film as an opportunity to go after George Bush, but Parker and Stone could not care less about him - they focused their satirical sights on the parade of Hollywood celebrities who have strong opinions on world affairs and are not afraid to express them. High-profile stars such as Alec Baldwin, Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon, Matt Damon and Tim Robbins are all depicted as off-the-wall egomaniacs. And then there are the vocal performances. As to be expected from the guys behind South Park, Parker and Stone voiced most of the characters, and went hilariously over-the-top for each role. It's worth noting that the film was slightly trimmed to avoid an NC-17 rating from the MPAA, but the footage later was incorporated into an unrated cut. The extra footage is from the love scene and adds absolutely nothing to the overall experience, but it is memorable and unmistakable...

Hilarious from the first frame and with momentum only rarely relenting, Team America: World Police stands as one of the finest creations of Trey Parker and Matt Stone. It's literally a gold mine of side-splitting quotes (and sounds, with a hilariously offensive Middle-Eastern chant destined to be repeated ad nauseum) incorporated within a framework of satire, violence and amusing stupidity. It must again be stressed, though, that comedy of this brand is entirely subjective - some will label Team America as unfunny, offensive tripe, while others (myself included) will worship it as comedic genius.

8.4/10

In 1998, Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan brought an end to the black-and-white war movies of old that contain sanitary, romanticised wartime imagery, and eschew the true horrors of the battlefield. This classical approach to the genre was replaced with something visceral and gritty, effectively conveying the brutal realities of wartime horror in an unflinching fashion. Following in Spielberg's footsteps and adhering to this template is 2001's Black Hawk Down. Although a big-budget Hollywood production created by blockbuster veterans (including producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Ridley Scott), Black Hawk Down offers a powerful look at modern warfare that is not easily forgotten. Loud, relentless and violent, this harrowing picture places you in the moment and allows you to experience the sensation of being caught in a frenetic combat zone with no way out and nowhere to go. Without any cheesy subplots to dilute the story's focus, Black Hawk Down is almost wall-to-wall combat, and it is utterly gripping.

Based on Mark Bowden's book of the same name, Black Hawk Down chronicles the true events that took place in Somalia in 1993. An elite group of Delta Force Soldiers and American Rangers were sent to Mogadishu, Somalia, to help end the vicious civil war of the period during which warlord Mohamed Farrah Aidid was seizing international food shipments and starved several thousand Somalian people to death. In October 1993, American soldiers raided a major building in the densely-populated city with the aim of capturing Aidid's top lieutenants. However, what was supposed to be a routine, half-hour mission transformed into a prolonged 15-hour bloodbath after an extraction helicopter was shot down. Pitted against thousands of Somali militia, the American troops were left to fight for their lives.

Bowden's book about the Black Hawk Down incident is roughly 400 pages in length, yet director Ridley Scott (who was fresh off of the award-winning Gladiator) and screenwriter Ken Nolan compress the dense source material into a 140-minute film, resulting in an airtight adaptation that conveys the essential facts without any bloat. After concentrating on character introductions and dramatic growth in the first act, the film transforms into an extended action sequence. Imagine the intensity of Saving Private Ryan's opening Omaha Beach sequence extended to about 70 or 80 minutes with practically no respite. Furthermore, Black Hawk Down does not analyse what happened in Somalia or provide any political grandstanding. Rather than politics, Scott and co. were merely concerned with staging a dramatisation of the 15 hours of combat that killed a number of American soldiers and injured dozens of others. On top of this, to the credit of Scott and Nolan, the chaotic events are shown without ignoring narrative requirements or reducing dialogue to generic background noise; there is still a story here, and it's easy to become invested in the characters. The writing especially comes to life during a number of poetic monologues.

A master craftsman, Scott's depiction of combat and violence is not sugar-coated. Scott (ever the perfectionist) and cinematographer Slavomir Idziak frame the action so precisely that the illusion of being there is so real and immediate that you could be forgiven for ducking your head in a subconscious bid to avoid being hit by flying shrapnel or bullets. Indeed, the battle scenes are as accurate as a depiction of modern warfare can be, and Scott's exceptional skills as a visual storyteller help make Black Hawk Down such an unmitigated success. Furthermore, the special effects are utterly seamless, the sound design is ear-shattering, and the editing is immaculate. In fact, the film earned Academy Awards for Editing and Sound, while Scott and cinematographer Idziak received nominations. And then there's Hans Zimmer's amazing score, which is intense and harrowing, not to mention it possesses an effective African flavour to complement the visuals.

A veritable who's who of young and old male actors, Black Hawk Down benefits from an extraordinary cast. The ensemble includes such names as John Hartnett, Ewan McGregor, Tom Sizemore (who was also seen in Saving Private Ryan and Pearl Harbor), Jeremy Piven, William Fichtner, Orlando Bloom, Jason Isaacs, Tom Hardy, Matthew Marsden, and even Australian star Eric Bana (who adopts an obvious but nonetheless effective American accent). All of these actors (and beyond) do an exceptional job of forming a tight, believable unit of American soldiers. Scott and Nolan ensure that these actors are not merely interchangeable names with faces. Rather, each performer is unique and, for the most part, distinguishable during the scenes of intense combat (as much as they could possibly be without harming the momentum). Outside of the battlefield, Scott also has the excellent Sam Shepard, who espouses endless gravitas as a Major General overseeing and coordinating the raid.

Black Hawk Down is sometimes labelled as racist, and people accuse it of not doing enough justice to the Somali viewpoint. Producer Jerry Bruckheimer delivered the best rebuttal to this: the film presents a viewpoint, not every viewpoint. Additionally, while there is a degree of flag-waving and patriotism, this is counterbalanced by scenes showing that not all Somali militias are mindless savages. For instance, a scene between pilot Michael Durant (Ron Eldard) and his Somali capturer gives a face to the indigenous population, and his sentiments allow us to understand things from their perspective. Furthermore, before the fateful mission, one character even explains his respect for the Somalians. Heck, on several occasions during the movie, Scott even emphasises that the Americans perhaps do not belong in the country. For a film that is so frequently criticised as overly patriotic and racist, Black Hawk Down contains far more layers than some people care to notice.

No movie will ever be able to truly recreate the experience of being caught in combat during a war, but the makers behind Black Hawk Down do everything in their power to get us as close as a television screen will allow, bombarding viewers with an unrelenting string of violence and action. Yet it's the heart, emotion, humanity and brutal honesty that allows Black Hawk Down to escape the derogatory "action porn" label. This is the type of film that Jerry Bruckheimer's Pearl Harbor should have been but wasn't. While Black Hawk Down has its detractors, this reviewer is not among them. This is an important war movie, and it deserves to be seen at the earliest opportunity regardless of your political affiliations or opinions.

10/10

Legendary director John Carpenter hasn't been seen at the helm of a feature-length motion picture since 2001's Ghost of Mars, after which he announced he was leaving Hollywood. And honestly, the guy's presence has been sorely missed. While Carpenter's efforts have been hit and miss since the '80s, an underwhelming Carpenter picture is far more preferable than an unremarkable remake or genre misfire helmed by an inexperienced music video director. This brings us to The Ward, which is Carpenter's first film since 2001 and which was thusly packaged with high expectations. Alas, it fails to deliver. For those expecting an effective throwback to Carpenter's landmark early efforts, only heartache is in store. The Ward was not written by Carpenter, nor did he handle the scoring duties, implying that this is more of a "gun for hire" situation than a passion project for the filmmaker. Unfortunately, those that did fulfil The Ward's writing and scoring duties are nowhere near as adept as Carpenter.

Following a violent episode culminating with her burning down a farmhouse, Kristen (Heard) is sent to the female-only ward of the North Bend Psychiatric Hospital. While planning an escape, Kristen begins to blend in with the fellow mental patients (including Gummer, Panabaker, Leigh and Fonseca), all of whom evidently live in fear of an evil apparition which apparently haunts the hospital halls. As Dr. Stringer (Harris) seeks to cure Kristen through therapy sessions, it becomes clear that perhaps the doctor is hiding something rather sinister. Freaked out by the apparent ghost, Kristen investigates, and unearths clues which begin to provide her with an outline of the ghostly entity stalking the ward.

The most frightening thing about The Ward is the lack of invention in the desperate, cliché-ridden and unfocused script credited to Michael and Shaun Rasmussen. Though a ghost story essentially lies at the film's core, it was uneasily hybridised with money-shot slasher kill scenes, psychological mind-fuck terror, and an M. Night Shyamalan-esque twist ending. Not to mention, facets of conventional asylum-based thrillers were thrown in as well, with stock orderlies and matrons, experimental drugs, and shock treatments all surfacing at some point. Just what the fuck is the film meant to be? Added to this, the "twist" ending is meant to shock and surprise, but it is more likely to make you shrug. One should expect a certain degree of formula in a horror movie in this day and age, granted, but would at least a little bit of story innovation be too much to ask from the supposedly triumphant return of a genre icon?

John Carpenter's directorial exertions seem strictly ordinary, though his work does come alive in select places. At the very least, the photography and editing is often solid, while Carpenter at times displays evidence that he still possesses the skills to build suspense and atmosphere. However, even with a few horrific images sprinkled here and there (most notably those of the "ghost", which were executed with sublime make-up effects), Carpenter succumbed to clichéd horror playbook techniques that he should be above: jump-scares. The snoozy script is only periodically enlivened by Carpenter, with the usually tedious dialogue scenes eventually giving way to an anticlimactic and underwhelming finale laced with "what the fuck" moments. Heck, the film even closes on a familiar, cheap story beat, suggesting that a worthwhile comeback for Carpenter is impossible unless the aging filmmaker steps up to write his own material.

In the role of Kristen, Amber Heard bares her acting skills (though not her breasts, unfortunately) and clearly worked to convey passion, intensity and deep-rooted hurt. However, it all adds up to an unmemorable piece of acting. Not that there's anything inherently bad about Heard's performance, but there's nothing great about it either, and she frankly looks pale alongside, say, Jamie Lee Curtis in Carpenter's own Halloween. In supporting roles, Jared Harris makes a worthwhile impression as Dr. Stringer, while the rest of the girls submitted rather good performances. Out of the girls, Mamie Gummer is the standout, though that's to be expected from Meryl Streep's daughter.

The Ward is not what this reviewer had hoped. It should have announced John Carpenter's return to his former glory, imbued with the same genre magic that made the filmmaker such an icon in the first place. Instead, The Ward is a deeply flawed, middle-of-the-road effort, showing that perhaps Mr. Carpenter simply needed a bit of extra cash to pay the bills and therefore agreed to the first script that landed on his desk. With his heart clearly not in it, it seems the filmmaker's skills have gotten rusty, though it's undeniably thrilling to see him directing motion pictures again.

4.8/10

To the surprise of the studio heads over at 20th Century Fox, Romancing the Stone was a massive box office hit when released in 1984, meaning that a second venture for the beloved characters was inevitable. Rushed through production in response to Romancing the Stone's unexpected success, the rapidly-produced Jewel of the Nile was ready for release by Christmas of 1985. While Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner and Danny DeVito all returned for this follow-up, newcomers were brought onboard to handle writing and directing duties. Gone was the plethora of talent that made Romancing the Stone so damn great...replaced by a creative team who were nowhere near as adept. While Jewel of the Nile is generally entertaining in parts, it lacks the allure of its predecessor, and is deficient in most of the original film's worthwhile characteristics.

As Jewel of the Nile kicks off, Jack T. Colton (Douglas) and Joan Wilder (Turner) are six months into their globe-trotting love affair, with Jack enjoying the sailing and Joan struggling to complete her overdue novel. Unfortunately, the lovers have become a little tired of one another - Joan wants to return to New York, while Jack wants to sail his yacht down to Greece. Tensions come to a head when wealthy Middle-Eastern ruler Omar (Focás) approaches Joan, inviting her to his kingdom to write his biography. While Joan enthusiastically agrees, Jack stays behind. Shortly thereafter, Jack runs into Ralph (DeVito), who is still in search of riches and is out for revenge against Jack. When Jack's yacht is blown up, he is informed that Omar is a rather treacherous character, and that Joan may find herself in considerable danger. Upon learning that Omar is in possession of the precious "Jewel of the Nile", Ralph and Jack team up and head off seeking treasure.

During production of Romancing the Stone, everyone had something to prove - Michael Douglas had to prove he could be a leading man, director Robert Zemeckis had to prove his filmmaking chops, and writer Diane Thomas was trying to show she could write mainstream films and leave her job as a waitress. They were driven to make a good flick, and succeeded because they cared. With The Jewel of the Nile, it feels like everyone involved was just going through the motions to get the darn thing done. With Jack and Joan at each other's throats from the film's early stages, the warmth and innocence of their relationship is gone, and gone too is most of the fun. Marred by a number of slow segments and an overly dull midsection that's only occasionally punctuated by moderately enjoyable action sequences, the film feels longer than its average 105-minute running time might suggest. Absent is the remarkable wit and creativity of Romancing the Stone, not to mention the spark of the first film is extinguished here. Even the nostalgic, charming score of the original film is lacking in Jewel of the Nile; replaced with a dull, grating musical accompaniment. And did the filmmakers seriously think an opening credits song stating "You and I can touch the Jewel of the Niiiiiiile" would be a smart choice?

Lewis Teague (Cujo) took the reigns as director here, but he failed to demonstrate worthwhile skill as an action filmmaker - the set-pieces here are not as exciting or as energetic as Romancing the Stone's best moments. Worse, Jewel of the Nile is pervaded with an unmistakable TV movie vibe, with ADR dialogue, cardboard-ey sets, a number of cheap-looking special effects, and local extras who seem to enjoy looking directly into the camera lens. The pacing is generally lethargic, and the touch of Robert Zemeckis - whose directorial skill was a majority contributing factor to the first movie's success - is sorely missed. Admittedly, there are a few great moments (such as the well-handled opening sequence derived from Joan's latest book) and a few note-worthy one-liners. Overall, though, the film is not a patch on its predecessor. Teague has admitted the film was indeed a rush-job, and this is frequently obvious.

The magical chemistry shared by Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone is lessened to a great extent here, and consequently it's hard to care about their relationship. The characters are less happy as a couple in this movie, which was a bad decision. We endured all of the obligatory bickering and spite in the original movie, why couldn't we get a sequel in which the central coupling actually like one another? To hell with "romantic tension"! Towards the end of the movie, with Jack and Joan a few strands of rope away from certain death, they suddenly and inexplicably reconcile their relationship and realise they do in fact love one another after all. This stuff is amazingly contrived. What happened to the carefully nurtured, organic relationship that emerged in Romancing the Stone? At least Michael Douglas remains strong and Danny DeVito is rather funny as Ralph. The interactions between Douglas and DeVito are at times quite amusing, and save the film from total disaster.

When the script for Jewel of the Nile was first delivered, Kathleen Turner thought it was appalling, and she tried to back out of the movie until Fox threatened her with a substantial lawsuit. In a bid to make Turner more comfortable, Diane Thomas apparently did a small amount of uncredited script doctoring. What a shame Thomas was not available to write the entire script. While there are a few good moments and a handful of funny lines, Jewel of the Nile is a pale sequel which never rises to the giddy heights of the first film. It's not especially bad per se - it's just a disappointing voyage into utter mediocrity, and it looks sinful next to its outstanding predecessor.

5.9/10

Since mid-2010, an aura of mystery has shrouded J.J. Abrams' Super 8 like a dense fog. From its initial teaser trailer over a year before its release to a series of elliptical trailers and its substantial but mysterious marketing campaign, movie-goers have been wondering exactly what it is. In short, 2011's Super 8 is a nostalgia-dipped, Steven Spielberg-indebted science fiction thriller and a coming of age story; representing a homage to producer Spielberg and a valentine for those who have had a passion for filmmaking since childhood. Super 8 is a rare type of summertime release in this day and age - it conveys a clever, original story (it is not a sequel, prequel, spin-off, reboot or literature adaptation) without the necessity for a third dimension. There are state-of-the-art special effects and a few big action sequences, sure, but neither elements are gratuitous since, unlike most summer blockbusters, Super 8 is more interested in characters and storytelling than big bangs. In writing and directing this film, Abrams remembered a simple law from Filmmaking 101 that is commonly ignored by contemporary popcorn movie peddlers: that action and mayhem only has weight if the viewers can find themselves caring about the people in the midst of the chaos.

Named after a type of filming format that child filmmakers used before the advent of digital video cameras and Final Cut Pro, Super 8 concerns the misadventures of six young tweens who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Set in 1979, young Joe Lamb (Courtney) is in mourning following the death of his mother, leaving him with his distant police officer father (Chandler). With school over and the summer in full swing, Joe occupies himself by helping best friend Charles (Griffiths) make a zombie movie starring Joe's crush Alice (Fanning). While filming late one night in secret, the gang of kids watch as a train spectacularly derails in front of them. Afterwards, a survivor of the crash informs the gang to tell nobody of what they saw else they be killed. Within days, their peaceful little town is suddenly overturned by a heavy military presence, inexplicable happenings, and disappearing people. Not to mention, the boys' Super 8 camera captured sight of something monstrous escaping the train following the derailment.

As those who paid attention to the marketing should be aware of, Super 8 is the brainchild of J.J. Abrams and producer Steven Spielberg, and it therefore plays out like a sweeping love letter to the generation raised on Spielberg's crowning achievements. Essentially Stand by Me meets The Goonies on a Cloverfield stage, Abrams additionally infused the picture with a semi-autographical element, recalling the days when he - like most future filmmakers - borrowed his parents' video camera and made a home movie. Super 8 is not merely a film built on a basis of set-pieces and special effects, but a look back at an era marked by bike rides, small town sensibilities and working class concerns - a time when kids went outside and were adventurous, rather than staying indoors to watch movies or play video games all day. However, there are a few Hollywood touches that are hard to swallow, such as someone still being alive after driving head-on into a freight train. The ending, too, seems abrupt and rushed; not being able to wrap up everything with the same care and intelligence that preceded it.

Abrams once again demonstrates here what an excellent craftsman he is; bestowing the film with a number of moments of nail-biting intensity and tension. In fact, some scenes could almost classify the film as horror. Super 8 may be characterised by the children at the centre of the narrative, but this is not a film specifically designed for small kids, who will likely find the film too scarifying. Abrams chose to replace the gentler tone of Spielberg's earlier cinematic oeuvre with something edgier. Abrams also chose to abide by the Jaws approach, keeping the mysterious monster out of view for the majority of the runtime, building suspense by holding back and only allowing the audience quick, fleeting glimpses of certain body parts. Not to mention, most action movies these days succumb to the awful habit of "shaky-cam/rapid-cutting", letting details and comprehension fall by the wayside. However, Abrams always ensured the camera was impeccably placed, allowing viewers to fully comprehend the scope. The train crash alone lasts for two or three minutes, and it will keep you in the edge of your seat with your mouth agape. This master craftsmanship extends to the quieter moments as well, which are engaging and interesting.

The film takes place in 1979, and the period was vibrantly recreated with astonishing detail through immaculate production values. Era-specific cars, clothing, and songs (including tunes such as My Sharona by The Knack and other songs by Blondie, Paul McCartney, etc) all help to sell the time period and vibe. Super 8 anchors fantasy in a real-world setting, and thankfully Abrams infused the real-world setting with relatable characters and emotional undercurrents to help us care about everything happening on-screen. The bond between all the young boys, particular that of Joe and Charles, rings with accuracy and depth, and the relationship that emerges between Joe and Alice is sublime as they spend time together despite a feud between their fathers. Also captured winningly is the dynamic between all the boys - their conversations, playful bantering and occasional cursing will probably remind viewers of their own childhood. Not to mention, the boys' joy and elation in no-budget home moviemaking (an autobiographical element from the childhoods of both Abrams and Spielberg) is affectionately depicted, and the way they continue to shoot their movie pays off in a big way during the not-to-be-missed closing credits.

The performances were of primary importance in making the film work, and, thankfully, Abrams populated Super 8 with a pitch-perfect ensemble of child actors, all of whom present natural performances of profound depth. Joel Courtney (in his professional debut) is a real find, as his portrayal of Joe is mature and completely believable. The most experienced member of the cast here is Elle Fanning as Alice, who is phenomenal; emerging from the shadow of her older sister with this superbly nuanced piece of acting. For every moment she's on-screen, Fanning's face paints a complete, poignant picture of who her character is and what she's going through. For a child actress who was a mere 12 years old during filming, Elle is remarkable. Equally valuable is Riley Griffiths who's utterly convincing as Charles (the one whom this reviewer could identify with the most). Every member of the group is a joy to watch, and each possess their own unique quirk to prevent them from being an anonymous part of an ensemble. Ryan Lee is a great source of comic relief playing the explosion-loving pyromaniac, while Gabriel Basso impresses mightily as the main actor of the boys' movie. Also first-rate is Kyle Chandler, who simultaneously supplies authority and vulnerability. Simply put, everyone did a marvellous job here, affording Super 8 the realism that the material demanded.

Commandeering his third feature film as director (after Mission: Impossible III and Star Trek), J.J. Abrams exudes passion and talent as a filmmaker, and with Super 8 he delivers solid storytelling, multidimensional characters and creativity - all within the confines of a $50 million 2-D summer blockbuster. In many ways, this is a perfect summer movie: original, earnest, innovative and creative, not to mention it has all the requisite fireworks and pizzazz but you do not need to halt your brain functions in order to enjoy the show.

8.7/10

With the Twilight franchise scheduled to end in 2012, Hollywood is understandably scrambling to find a new cash-cow series to win the hearts and wallets of the sparkly vampire lovers. Based on the young adult novel of the same name by Pittacus Lore (a pseudonym for James Frey and Jobie Hughes), I Am Number Four reeks of Hollywood studio mentality in the way it dishes up all the customary ingredients for a modern teen movie. Ticking all the boxes, the film comes packaged with male models trying to act, a tepid romantic yarn between two teenagers who cannot consummate due to antagonistic interference, a heavy smattering of high school drama, and a fantasy angle that appears to have been assembled from the spare parts bin. Helmed by D.J. Caruso (Disturbia, Eagle Eye), I Am Number Four has big aspirations but little gumption or skill to fulfil them.

One of nine beings who were saved from genocide on the distant planet of Lorien, Number Four (Pettyfer) has travelled to Earth under the care of protector Henri (Olyphant) to hide from the vicious Mogadorians. With the Mogadorians killing off the Lorien survivors in chronological order for no apparent reason, the pair are constantly on the move. Number Three's eventual death puts Henri in a heightened state of paranoia, compelling him to move Four to the small town of Paradise, Ohio where he assumes the identity of John Smith. As with any movie of this sort, John is enchanted with fellow teenager Sarah (Agron) who's kind-hearted and has an interest in photography. Also, predictably, John befriends nerdy outcast Sam (McAuliffe) and has a few tiffs with Sarah's jealous ex-boyfriend (Abel). Unfortunately for John, though, his special abilities begin to emerge which he struggles to control, and the Mogadorians are drawing close.

I Am Number Four essentially plays out like a big-screen version of Smallville that was re-jigged for the Twilight crowd. And on that note, it feels more like a pilot to a television series than the big-budget beginning of a feature film franchise. The first hour of I Am Number Four is notably awful - the mythology is generic, the names given to the aliens and their technology are laughably goofy, the Mogadorians are over-the-top (looking like a strange cross between the vampires from 30 Days of Night and the Romulans from Star Trek), several loose threads are haphazardly incorporated to set up the franchise, and the insipid high school drama is trite to the point of being sheer torture. Why does Number Four feel the need to attend high school, anyway? Why can't he just skip school like John Connor and be a badass rather than a generic clothing store mannequin? Whenever a high school drama is introduced in this day and age, one can only think Twilight. Heck, for further similarity, Number Four even develops a crush on a girl he can't get out of his head. And, for best effect, the soundtrack of popular music plays out as if the director chose tracks by putting his iPod on shuffle.

At the very least, I Am Number Four improves in its final half-hour or so, when it finally shuts up and gets down to the business of being a Michael Bay-produced action flick rather than a corny, melodramatic teen romance. At this point the movie rouses to life, delivering some pulse-pounding action set-pieces and surprisingly decent special effects. There's high-tech gadgetry, telekinetic battles, cars being hurtled, a few badass giant monster battles, space daggers, incredibly cool laser guns, and fireballs. Hey, even the hot Australian actress Teresa Palmer was thrown in for good measure! The craftsmanship during this period is surprisingly decent as well, with director Caruso disposing of his Michael Bay-esque routine of shaky-cam and rapid-fire cutting (seen in Eagle Eye) in favour of a smoother, more refined cinematic style. It's unfortunate, then, that I Am Number Four is weighed down by the hackneyed routine of high school drama which we must endure before getting to the money shots and engaging set-pieces.

The selection of actors were clearly chosen on the basis of looks rather than acting believability. In the role of John Smith/Number Four, Alex Pettyfer displays no charisma, no vulnerability and no screen presence, and there is no detectable emotion or warmth to anything he does. Watching the guy on-screen is like flipping through a clothing store catalogue. The girls will have their eye candy, sure, but Pettyfer needs to attend acting school pronto if he wants more work in the industry. Meanwhile, Dianna Agron cut her acting teeth on the TV show Glee, which should be an indicator of her "talent"... Timothy Olyphant, on the other hand, is one of the only veterans, and he's effortlessly cool as Henri. Olyphant disperses a number of good lines on top of being downright awesome. And in the role of Number Six, Teresa Palmer is somewhat decent as well as being amazingly, unbelievably hot, especially when she's allowed to let loose and kick ass. It's a shame, then, that Palmer's screen-time is so limited.

With attractive adolescents and their high school lives taking centre stage within the narrative, I Am Number Four aims to appeal to teenagers and satiate the Twilight crowd. It does not hold much appeal beyond the superficial, though, with the aliens feeling underdeveloped and with a distinct lack of action or anything remotely engaging until the final act. This is not a good film, but at the very least it's not entirely unwatchable despite the bland dramatic elements.

4.5/10

Directed by the Oscar-winning Ron Howard, The Dilemma has more on its mind than your typical romantic comedy. Aiming to delve into themes relating to how well people know each other and to what extent couples keep secrets from one another (among other queries), the film tries its hardest to be more than a forgettable diversion, but, with introspective themes not explored to their fullest potential, the film comes up short. The Dilemma also suffers from an identity dilemma: is it a drama or a light-hearted romantic comedy? With the poster implying a comedy and with trailers advertising the picture as fluffy fun, it's somewhat surprising that the film is in fact a dodgy dramedy unable to find the right tonal balance. It's interesting to see director Howard attempting to imbue his film with ultimately unfulfilled gravitas, but The Dilemma's mix of hit-and-miss comedy and lackadaisical drama is astonishingly inept.

Business partners and best friends since college, Ronny (Vaughn) and Nick (James) are on the eve of closing an incredibly lucrative business deal with Dodge. Stress levels are high for the pair, though, with the deal putting Nick's engineering genius to the test and with Ronny looking to find the right time and place to propose to his long-time girlfriend Beth (Connelly). Making matters worse is that Ronny catches Nick's wife Geneva (Ryder) carrying on an affair with the handsome, vapid Zip (Tatum). Ronny subsequently becomes faced with a major dilemma: tell Nick and risk the news affecting his engineering performance, or keep quiet and hope it blows over. Geneva temporarily silences Ronny by a threat of blackmail, but he cannot help but dig deeper into his friends' personal lives.

On top of its other sins, The Dilemma faces a tremendous dilemma in its structuring. (Sorry to use the pun again...) The picture begins with promise and potential, taking its time to develop the central characters and all of their respective conflicts. Yet, it takes far too long for the conflicts to actually lead somewhere. Padded out with nonsensical filling and burdened by extreme meandering, the film clocks in at a whopping 110 minutes, but it doesn't begin to dive into the nitty gritty until the 90-minute mark, leaving insufficient time for a patient, thoughtful narrative resolution. The resolution thus feels rushed and painfully generic, not to mention the film as a whole feels fundamentally incomplete, resulting in a bad aftertaste.

One question lingers from the beginning: is the film a drama with comedic elements, or a comedy with dramatic elements? It's frankly hard to categorise The Dilemma since it appears that the film itself does not know what it wants to be. The tone is kept predominantly light and at times outright slapstick until the final act, at which point the potent drama is densely lathered on to the point of utter saturation. With the humour dropped entirely in the third act, Howard and screenwriter Allan Loeb (The Switch, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps) try to untangle the conflict with an intricate examination of the feeble nature of trust. However, the unnecessarily lengthy runtime left the filmmakers struggling to wrap up the film as quickly as possible, scrambling to concoct a conventional conclusion for a film that's otherwise unconventional and inventive.

Predictably, Vince Vaughn and Kevin James stuck to close variations of their usual shtick. Nevertheless, Vaughn is notably terrific here since he was on solid ground that was well-suited for his trademark screen persona. After a few depressingly unfunny comedies that restrained his comic mojo (Couples Retreat, Four Holidays), The Dilemma allows Vaughn to finally let loose yet again, bouncing off the game supporting cast and firing off some great one-liners. In particular, the star hits a number of comedic home runs in a rather Vaughn-esque scene as Ronny destroys an anniversary dinner for Beth's parents with an uncomfortable yet hilarious speech. Also making an impression is Channing Tatum, who clearly relished the opportunity to play what would otherwise amount to a mere paycheque role. Meanwhile, Winona Ryder continues her unlikely comeback (kick-started by Black Swan) in the role of Geneva. It would have been easy to turn Geneva into a shallow villain, but Ryder steals scenes left, right and centre, adding dimension and genuine emotional depth to her character. Jennifer Connelly is also surprisingly strong, while Queen Latifah is frequently chuckle-worthy as a bawdy automotive executive.

Ultimately, The Dilemma would most likely have worked better if it was designed as an outright farce. With comic actors like Vaughn and James carrying out their usual routines, it feels like such a waste to use them for a film that uneasily alternates between comedy and hyperbolic melodrama. Then again, Connelly and Ryder are in straight-up dramatic mode, further contributing to the uneasy melding of different styles. When all is said and done, The Dilemma will likely be looked upon as a minor blip on the radar screen that is Ron Howard's directing career. It's not awful since it remains for the most part enjoyable and it has its charms, yet the film had the potential to be so much more.

5.2/10