Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Ivan Reitman's first filmmaking endeavour since 2006, No Strings Attached is an attempt to explore "fuck buddy" relationships within the context of a mainstream romantic comedy. In other words, it delves into the same territory as 2010's Love and Other Drugs with a heavier smattering of cliché. In terms of positive assets, the central pair of lovers (and the actors portraying them, for that matter) have genuine chemistry, while the rest of the acting ensemble sparkle with wit and charm. On the downside, No Strings Attached is far from perfect, even if it's just taken as a fluffy comedy. It may be just passable enough that you'll endure the flick for its entirety, but afterwards you will likely be left with a resoundingly bland taste in your mouth. Not to mention, you won't come away from No Strings Attached thinking that it's one of 2011's funniest or most romantic cinematic offerings.

Since their early teenage years, Emma (Portman) and Adam (Kutcher) have found their lives to be intertwined; running into one another every few years, but avoiding a relationship in spite of an obvious mutual physical attraction. In present day, Emma is a hard-working medical intern with no interest in a serious relationship, while Adam is stuck as a lowly production assistant on a Glee-esque television show. After crossing each other's paths yet again, the two impulsively have sex, and in coming days Emma proposes that the two begin a "fuck buddy" relationship free of commitment. Adam gleefully embraces the idea. However, while Adam still retains hope that something more serious will eventually develop, Emma is far too hesitant to take things to the next step.

No Strings Attached melds romantic comedy with edgy subject matter, promising to provide an incisive exploration of the consequences of sex without emotional attachment. However, the film plays it far too safe, so you know precisely how the proceedings will play out. After all, there's no way in hell that studio executives were going to let a star-studded rom-com end audaciously and unconventionally (à la 2009's brilliant indie (500) Days of Summer), because an average couple (and, thus, the target audience) want to leave a cinema with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Bolder equals less profit, after all, and nobody knows that better than Hollywood executives. No Strings Attached was produced for a measly $25 million which should have allowed leeway for the film to be daring, but making as much money as possible was more important, especially since it would've taken a Herculean struggle in itself just to have the film be R-rated. Rom-com consumers who love the formula in all its forms may appreciate the comfort associated with No Strings Attached, but the unabashed conventionality of Elizabeth Meriwether's screenplay will most likely come across as pure laziness to more casual film-goers.

To be fair, No Strings Attached is not excruciating. Ivan Reitman has helmed a number of worthwhile comedies during his career (including Stripes and Kindergarten Cop), so the film is often entertaining enough. From a technical perspective this is a solid effort as well, with handsome production values and a constantly enjoyable soundtrack made up of charming, delightful tunes. In terms of laughs, the film delivers from time to time, though the laugh quotient is not as high as one might expect from a production like this. The film also plods during certain sections, unfortunately - there are a few laugh-free stretches of pure rom-com formula (for instance the "break up to make up" section) which are meant to be mistaken as evidence of cinematic maturity, but Reitman was unable to enliven them.

Movie sex scenes with Natalie Portman are like eclipses or sightings of Hayley's Comet - they're very rare, and you just hope that you'll witness at least one in your lifetime. In terms of her actual performance, Portman acquits herself quite well; nailing the various facets of her role. Alongside her, Ashton Kutcher was traversing more familiar terrain as Adam. He's well-known for playing a good-hearted puppy dog of a romantic lead, and thus No Strings Attached at no point challenges his acting abilities. Nonetheless, Kutcher is strong in his role, and he shares great chemistry and camaraderie with Portman. In this type of romantic comedy, supporting roles are usually just thankless throwaways, but in No Strings Attached, the typically thankless roles were energised by excellent writing and an ideal bunch of actors. Kevin Kline in particular is a scene-stealer, delivering a bunch of amusing lines and generally emanating hilarity. The extensive roster of memorable supporting characters was further filled out by the unbelievably adorable Greta Gerwig as one of Emma's roommates, the always-reliable Cary Elwes as a doctor, and the hilarious Ludacris as one of Adam's witty best friends, just to name a few.

With its mainstream-pandering vibe, No Strings Attached sacrifices thematic integrity in order to widen its appeal as much as possible. Unfortunately, the film attempts to have it both ways; trying to generate a veneer of maturity while dishing up laughs and the clichés that casual movie fans will be comfortable with. Suffice it to say, the merger of these two distinct styles is rather squiffy, resulting in a fun enough surface-level ride that would have been easily superior if the screenwriter simply chose one specific style and stuck with it.

5.5/10

Masterminded by indie filmmaker Robert Rodriguez (Desperado, From Dusk Till Dawn), 2005's Sin City is the most definitive cinematic translation of a graphic novel to date. Rodriguez adapted the movie from the pages of the iconic Frank Miller's neo-noir comic book series of the same name, resulting in an indisputable masterpiece boasting gorgeously stylised visuals of a violent, monochrome world inhabited by ruthless villains and compelling anti-heroes. Sin City is the ultimate proof that comic book movies are not inherently for children, as these blood-soaked stories are brutal, repugnant and sadistic. However, Sin City is a visually enthralling blast from start to finish for those able to stomach this material. Rodriguez's graphic novel adaptation is also a compelling showcase for the possibilities of digital moviemaking (kick-started by 2004's Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow), wherein actors appear within computer-generated environments. Due to this, the film sparked an entire new comic-to-screen aesthetic, leading to movies like Zack Snyder's 300 and the Frank Miller-directed The Spirit.

"Sin City" is the appropriately shortened name for Basin City, the seedy metropolis where the proceedings occur. An anthology narrative, Rodriguez packs together three of Miller's stories - The Hard Goodbye, The Big Fat Kill, and That Yellow Bastard - and bookends them with the short story The Customer Is Always Right. In The Hard Goodbye, a hulking thug named Marv (Mickey Rourke) spends the night with an angelic woman named Goldie (Jaime King), but a silent, unseen assailant murders her during the night. Framed for the murder and wanting revenge, Marv seeks answers, leading him to a mute serial killer, Kevin (Elijah Wood), who is part of a larger conspiracy. The Big Fat Kill concerns Dwight McCarthy (Clive Owen), who wants to protect his girlfriend, Shellie (Brittany Murphy), from her abusive former lover, the immoral Jackie Boy (Benecio del Toro). Jackie Boy and his cronies drive across the city to Old Town, where they have a run-in with a group of dangerous, lethal prostitutes led by Gail (Rosario Dawson). In That Yellow Bastard, aging police officer John Hartigan (Bruce Willis) is sent to prison after saving young Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba) from a serial child-killer, Junior (Nick Stahl), the son of corrupt politician Senator Roark (Power Boothe). After his eventual release several years later, Hartigan searches for the now-adult Nancy, unaware he is falling into Junior's trap.

Brought to life practically verbatim from Miller's strikingly illustrated graphic novels, the stories here are admittedly familiar-feeling and unremarkable on paper as they incorporate noir tropes and conventional characters. But Sin City shines in its execution, from the incredible aesthetics and enthralling sense of atmosphere to the top-notch casting and unique dialogue verbiage. Robert Rodriguez did not devise any script or storyboards for this feature-film iteration - instead, the filmmaker referred to Miller's comics during the production, taking the term "faithful adaptation" to a new and more literal level. As written by Miller, the dialogue and hard-boiled noir-esque voiceovers crackle with lyricism and badassery, while veteran action filmmaker Rodriguez handles the vehemently R-rated moments of gunplay and action with utmost panache and confidence. Like the comics, Sin City is not for all tastes as an omnipresent sense of the macabre and seediness permeates practically every frame, and there is plenty of brutal violence and gratuitous nudity that the easily offended or those with weak stomachs cannot consume comfortably. Nevertheless, this is true to the source, and the movie is legitimately exciting, engaging, and intense. In other words, it is not mindless, tasteless violence porn.

Visually and atmospherically, Sin City is a masterpiece. Serving as his own cinematographer, Rodriguez shot the picture with digital cameras in front of green screens to seamlessly facilitate the computer-generated backgrounds. Rodriguez's extraordinary black and white cinematography also benefits from stylish lighting and shadows, meticulously turning Miller's comic panels into captivating cinematic frames. The visuals are predominantly monochrome with small bursts of colour, resulting in a unique palette that filmmakers continue to emulate. There are plenty of visual nuances to behold here, including silhouettes in some shots to further solidify the picture's comic book origins. The budget for Sin City was relatively modest at $40 million, yet the special effects and compositing still stand up to scrutiny after twenty years. Another huge asset is the atmospheric and memorable score credited to Rodriguez, John Debney, and Graeme Revell, which adds more life and colour to the production. Rodriguez and Miller worked as a team to direct the movie, trimming small bits from the comics to generate the gloriously brisk pace. Frequent Rodriguez collaborator Quentin Tarantino even receives a "Guest Director" credit - he helmed the scene between Clive Owen and Benicio del Toro as they drive to the tar pits.

The casting constitutes another of Sin City's greatest strengths, as Rodriguez and Miller recruited a sensational ensemble. Despite the film featuring several big-name actors, nothing feels like senseless stunt casting for maximum box office, and none of the actors try to overshadow each other; instead, it's a genuine ensemble effort. The highlight is Mickey Rourke, who is in full career-resuscitating mode here as the ruthless Marv. With elaborate make-up to closely resemble his comic book counterpart, Rourke is a passionate and compelling scene-stealer, and this ranks as the actor's best work to date. Clive Owen is another highlight as the charismatic and capable Dwight, while Bruce Willis is enormously memorable as the hardened, aging Hartigan. Despite Willis playing a cop, he does not play another variation of his wisecracking John McClane screen persona; instead, his performance is far edgier and darker.

Other notable performers include Power Boothe as the corrupt Senator Roark and Rutger Hauer as Cardinal Roark, while the monstrous Michael Clarke Duncan also makes a great impression as the nearly indestructible Manute. Meanwhile, Josh Hartnett appears as an assassin at the beginning and end of the movie, and Elijah Wood (who worked with Rodriguez on The Faculty) plays against type as a sadistic, cannibalistic murderer, a far cry from his wholesome performances in films like The Lord of the Rings and Flipper. There are many other terrific actors here - including Michael Madsen as a detective, Devon Aoki as a mute assassin, Brittany Murphy as Shellie, and Benicio del Toro as an unsavoury douchebag - but suffice it to say, there is not a single weak link in the ensemble.

With strict rules about directorial credits, Rodriguez specifically resigned from the Directors Guild of America to credit Miller as co-director on the movie, which also led to his dismissal from the film John Carter as Rodriguez could no longer direct major studio pictures. This bold move reflects Rodriguez's dedication to bringing Miller's vision to the screen in the most faithful way possible, collaborating on-set and referring to the pages of his graphic novels to create something truly special. With its engaging narrative structure, breathtaking visuals and badass noir dialogue, Sin City is a uniquely spectacular cinematic experience. The movie is also thrilling and unpredictable, as Rodriguez and Miller incorporate shocking deaths and multiple gut-wrenching climaxes. Sin City is perfection, and it is difficult to imagine any existing fans not being satisfied with this exemplary effort (it should also earn Miller new fans), especially with the availability of Rodriguez's recut, extended and unrated edition that presents each story separately with additional material. After years of rumours and delays, a sequel, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For, was released in 2014, nine years after its predecessor.

10/10

They say war is hell, and this age-old cliché has been exemplified in pretty much every war picture to date. 2008's Outpost is a film that literalises this adage, incorporating the horrors of war into a traditional horror picture. Every now and again, a small-time, low-budget horror film comes out of nowhere to catch genre fans off-guard with an unexpected magnum opus. Films like Dog Soldiers immediately come to mind as a good illustration of this, delivering the sort of horror experience that we don't see often enough. Happily, director Steve Barker's Outpost is another one of these movies. In terms of story and ideas, this is not a particularly groundbreaking flick (even the DVD cover openly identifies films it shares similarities with), but it is a badass horror/action gem which competently accomplishes everything that a good horror film ought to accomplish.

In the picture's opening moments, career soldier-of-fortune DC (Ray Stevenson) is hired by corporate engineer Hunt (Julian Wadham) to assemble a team of mercenaries. Their assignment is to protect Hunt as he travels into an Eastern European civil war zone to conduct a mineralogical survey on property recently acquired by his employers. During their travels they stumble upon a dilapidated, seemingly abandoned old bunker, which, as it turns out, belonged to the Nazis during World War II. Investigation soon reveals that the Nazis used the bunker for brutal experiments blending the occult with science, resulting in a legion of marauding Nazi zombie apparitions who begin stalking and killing the mercenaries. Before long, DC and his men are engaged in a dangerous conflict against an unstoppable enemy.

Running at a hair under 85 minutes and forgoing unnecessary fluff, Outpost is exceedingly taut. The characters and their goals are briskly established in a masterfully efficient opening segment before the film's meat and potatoes elements begin to appear, with scares, intoxicating build-ups of tension, and an apprehensive atmosphere. It doesn't take long for the characters to realise that there's something amiss about the bunker, and likewise, it isn't long before the men learn that their client has been misleading about his true motives. It's a shame, though, that the film feels a tad underdone - more could have been done in terms of character development and exploring the mythology behind the Nazi zombies. Oh well, at least it leaves leeway for the sequels to further explore aspects of the mythology.

Most contemporary horror films are predominantly concerned with gory kills, but director Steve Barker chooses to rely mainly on atmosphere rather than cheap shocks and predictable jump scares. While helpless victims are slaughtered here, Outpost's mercenaries feel like the real deal rather than dumb knife fodder, and their operational skills show that they are experienced professionals. Additionally, the question of "Why don't these idiots just leave?" is addressed early into the action, allowing the mercs to be believably trapped in an unenviable situation with no easy escape.

Luckily, despite a low budget, Rae Brunton's superlative screenplay is competently transferred to the screen. Outpost is insanely creepy and atmospheric, and Gavin Struthers' cinematography is a huge help in this regard. Most of the proceedings take place within the tiny Nazi bunker, lending a claustrophobic feel to the grimy interiors. The photography is also desaturated to the point of near monochrome, allowing the film to feel more insidious and chilling. Furthermore, the lighting techniques are to be commended. In fact, Outpost should be screened in film school to provide a crash course on how to light scenes for maximum effect. The soundscape is equally outstanding, from the haunting melodies composed by James Brett to the eerie ambient noises of the film's key locations.

Character development is somewhat lightweight here, yet each of the mercenaries are imbued with distinctive characterisations to ensure that none of them become interchangeable victims amid the blood-letting. As an added bonus, the mercenaries are portrayed by a charismatic bunch of badasses who genuinely look like hardened soldiers. In the main role of DC is Ray Stevenson, who featured in the television series Rome as well as 2008's Punisher: War Zone. As the tough-as-nails leader of this hardened crew, Stevenson is effortlessly badass. Beside him, in the role of Hunt, Julian Wadham is constantly believable and intense. All of the actors truly disappear into their roles - indeed, when you look at Michael Smiley, you will not think of his role in the TV series Spaced. Most horror movies falter in the acting department, but Outpost is positively and comprehensively faultless.

Produced on a tiny budget, Outpost is a minimalistic Brit horror film in all aspects, with a narrow scope and little in the way of flashy special effects. It's also really, really damn good, and just as satisfyingly violent and gory as any contemporary horror picture. It may not be entirely original (the whole Nazi experiment conceit is not exactly fresh), but it's a damn solid chiller and a worthy picture to behold in an age of torture porn, horror remakes and hackneyed slasher pictures.

8.4/10

The umpteenth Adam Sandler comedy to be directed by Dennis Dugan, 2011's Just Go with It is a semi-remake of the 1969 screwball comedy Cactus Flower, which was based on a 1965 Broadway production that itself was adapted from a French play. Now that's a mouthful. Despite all this, Just Go with It more overtly comes across as self-indulgence for those that made it. Indeed, considering that no real effort looks to have gone into this abysmal romantic comedy, it appears as if Dennis Dugan and Adam Sandler just liked the idea of an all-expenses-paid Hawaiian vacation for a few months. Clearly, Sandler had more fun picking up his big fat paycheque via holidaying in Hawaii with his gorgeous co-stars than anyone will have watching this exercise in comic tedium. Just Go with It should have been a funny, broad farce, but instead it's merely a fluffy "Sandler-ised" romantic comedy from the tired mills of Hollywood.

Beverly Hills plastic surgeon Danny (Sandler) has spent decades having meaningless one-night stands, using a wedding ring and depressing faux sob stories to seduce random girls in bars. Danny is perfectly happy with the scheme, though his dishonesty is perceived as repulsive by his single-mum office manager Katherine (Aniston). At a party one night, Danny sleeps with a stunning blonde named Palmer (Decker), winning her over without his wedding ring tactics. Danny believes his relationship with Palmer could be more than a one-night stand...but then she finds Danny's ring, forcing him to create a faux story about a former marriage and a pending divorce. Danny gets Katherine to pose as his ex-wife, on top of using Katherine's children and his buddy Eddie (Swardson) to help sell the mounting fibs. Elaborate lies quickly stack on top of elaborate lies, and Danny is forced to bribe the gang with a trip to Hawaii.

Director Dennis Dugan's last collaboration with Sandler, 2010's Grown-Ups, was a complete bust; a misguided, obnoxiously unfunny wasted opportunity squandering great potential and a great cast. Digging further into the Dugan/Sandler back catalogue, the two also begat 2008's You Don't Mess with the Zohan and 2007's I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry. Thus, it would appear we were warned well in advance of the awfulness of Just Go with It, which comfortably solidifies that their collaborations are about as attractive as a herpes epidemic. Ironically, the early scenes of Just Go with It set in America are the only remotely enjoyable segments of the movie. After the scenery change and the characters begin interacting within lavish Hawaiian locales, though, the film degenerates into an excruciating snoozer. Sure, Dugan captured Hawaii's natural beauty well enough, but there is no energy or comedic spark to the material. It's as if the cast and crew wanted to get filming over and done with as quick as possible to have more time to enjoy their Hawaiian vacation.

Eye-rollingly predictable from the outset, Just Go with It has no time for any such foreign concepts as wit, heart or charm as it cheerlessly goes through the hackneyed motions. The biggest sin committed by writers Allen Loeb and Timothy Dowling is that there's far too much comedy in the "awkward humour" vein, with the characters forced to battle their way through awkward situations. This type of humour can work if, but only if it's actually humorous. Alas, this concept was lost on the writers, who made the film fundamentally uncomfortable and painful to watch. There are a few genuinely humorous moments in Just Go with It's first 20 or 30 minutes, but the ensuing black hole of monotony completely nullifies the film's initial charms. Perhaps worst of all, the film drags on for far too long, concerning itself with a string of lacklustre set-pieces that fail to score any substantial laughs. Worse, the film skips critical story beats in order to engage in this madness. For instance, we do not see the repercussions of what happens when Danny tells Palmer the truth.

In their roles of Danny and Katherine, Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston are merely variations of their usual screen personas. Sure, they're believable enough and they're not awful, but they were clearly on autopilot. Meanwhile, Brooklyn Decker was obviously cast as Palmer for aesthetic reasons, and her performance is exactly what you'd expect from a model-turned-actress. On the upside, Nicole Kidman (inexplicably left out of the advertising and promotional campaign) apparently "got" what the material was intended to be, and played her role broadly, loosely and spontaneously, stealing her every scene. If all of the actors were as broad as this, the movie would have worked. Nick Swardson also scores a few laughs, while young Bailee Madison is delightful as one of Katherine's kids who loves to put on a British accent. However it does seem likely that "Bailee Madison" was hired more as a novelty, since her name sounds remarkably like one of Sandler's earliest and most beloved movies...

Clocking in at an interminable 110 minutes and deficient in satisfying belly-laughs, Just Go with It marks yet another black mark on Adam Sandler's acting career. You're more likely to sigh with exasperation at the characters' stupidity and at the elaborateness of their schemes when you should be revelling in it and laughing heartily while waiting for the shaky house of cards to collapse. People may enjoy this movie if the humour appeals to them, but it will have little appeal outside of this demographic due to its lack of charm, heart and innovation. Just Go with It might make for a good date movie, but only if you hate your date.

3.2/10

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