Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Arriving just five years after the disastrous Ghostbusters reboot in 2016, Ghostbusters: Afterlife is what happens when a movie is created out of genuine passion as opposed to commerce. Co-writer and director Jason Reitman (Juno), son of the late Ghostbusters director Ivan, deliberately avoided the franchise for years and vowed to never make a Ghostbusters movie, but hatched an idea for a legacy sequel that he secretly developed before penning a screenplay with Gil Kenan (director of 2015's Poltergeist remake). Happily, and perhaps unsurprisingly since Reitman built his career out of character-based independent movies, there is a beating heart at the centre of Ghostbusters: Afterlife, which prioritises characters over mindless comedy and action. Afterlife is tailor-made for longstanding Ghostbusters fans; it's an affectionate love letter to the franchise permeated with familiar sights and sounds, while Reitman also incorporates tender humour and boundless charm.

Broke and facing eviction, single mother Callie (Carrie Coon) elects to move to a dilapidated dirt farm that she inherits from her eccentric late father in the small town of Summerville, Oklahoma. Accompanying her are her two children; teenager Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and the scientifically-minded Phoebe (Mckenna Grace), who becomes curious about the secrets held by the house and her mysterious grandfather who abandoned his family several decades prior. Phoebe begins to explore the property and solve puzzles which leads her to discover ghostbusting equipment, and she soon meets a summer school teacher (Paul Rudd) who shows her the strange seismic activity which occurs in the town every day. Despite her mother being reluctant to share information about the family, Phoebe finds out that her grandfather was the ghostbuster Egon Spengler, who moved to Summerville after foreseeing an apocalyptic event linked to a nearby abandoned mine. The end of the world might still be looming, which compels Phoebe to finish what her grandfather started.

A third Ghostbusters movie was in the works back in the 1990s, but Bill Murray refused to play ball after the critical disappointment of Ghostbusters II, continually reiterating his disinterest in another sequel. Although the successful 2009 video game reignited interest in a third instalment, nothing materialised before the premature death of Harold Ramis in 2014. Ghostbusters: Afterlife is fundamentally Ghostbusters III, but it is not pitched as a direct continuation of its predecessors; instead, Reitman concentrates on Egon's estranged family and their respective lives before bringing the paranormal stuff to the fore. However, even though Reitman and Kenan's script does more right than wrong, Afterlife is not free of narrative problems. Perhaps owing to Reitman's enthusiasm for talky indie movies, the second act does begin to drag and lose momentum, with sequences such as Trevor going to the mine to hang out with his new friends feeling like the film is on autopilot. Many have criticised the lack of originality since Afterlife's third act does rehash parts of the first movie, but the execution is mostly top-notch, and the film's strong sense of heart helps to compensate for these shortcomings. A strong connection to the first movie helps to effectively re-introduce the series, allowing the franchise to move forward in new directions.

After building a career from dialogue-driven, low-budget indies, 2021's Ghostbusters: Afterlife is Reitman's first major blockbuster, flaunting a comparatively modest $75 million price tag and featuring a selection of large-scale special effects sequences. With the various pandemic-related release date delays, Reitman used the additional time to polish the visuals and special effects, and the finished product reflects this. Whereas the special effects in 2016's Ghostbusters were astonishingly hit-and-miss, the digital spectres in Afterlife are incredibly convincing and tangible. However, it's the reliance on practical effects and large, intricate sets which gives the feature its distinctive aesthetic. The central farmhouse appears real and lived-in, the creatures aren't purely CGI, and the actors are standing on actual sets as opposed to relentless green-screen with digital backgrounds. Especially with modern blockbuster moviemaking increasingly eschewing practical effects and real sets, the sense of realism throughout Afterlife is highly appreciable, reflecting the way that the original Ghostbusters was produced in the 1980s. On that note, Rob Simonsen's music effectively emulates the style of Elmer Bernstein's original Ghostbusters score, incorporating many of the composer's recognisable themes and motifs to outstanding effect. (Elmer's son, Peter Bernstein, was a music consultant for the project.) Reitman's regular cinematographer, Eric Steelberg, also contributes to the production in a significant way; the flick looks consistently gorgeous, with eye-catching camera compositions to smoothly capture the dialogue and action scenes. There is an art to digital cinematography which is occasionally lost in modern cinema, but Afterlife walks and talks like a legitimate movie as opposed to a lazy or low-budget distraction.

Child actors are a mixed bag as they risk coming across as too broad or cloying, but the ensemble cast here is a winner in every respect. The obvious comparison here is Netflix's Stranger Things due to paranormal happenings and children at the centre of the story, but Ghostbusters: Afterlife feels like its own thing with a unique vision, even if it's inspired by the previous Ghostbusters movies. Mckenna Grace is the standout as the new lead, flaunting a dorky Ramis-esque haircut and earning big laughs with seemingly little effort. She effectively portrays the character's erudite intelligence and her social awkwardness with an easy-going charm, demonstrating why she is one of the most reliable child actors currently working. (She also sings the song "Haunted House" which plays over the end credits; a girl of many talents!) Also worth mentioning is the always-reliable Paul Rudd who infuses his character with an endearing, goofball charm, while Carrie Coon is delightful as the weary but sarcastic Callie. Another standout is Logan Kim, who's fun and affable as an enthusiastic young conspiracy theorist who calls himself Podcast. It's a big deal that the new characters are so likeable and endearing, as that's most of the battle in the field of legacy sequels.

From a casting standpoint, the most exciting aspect of Ghostbusters: Afterlife is the return of legacy cast members Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts and Sigourney Weaver. Whereas Ghostbusters II found the characters struggling to make ends meet, this sequel places them where we want to see them. Seeing three of the original ghostbusters in their old outfits with proton packs is an undeniable thrill, but Reitman is careful not to let them hijack the story or become a deus ex machina. Additionally, the film's tribute to the late Harold Ramis is indescribably touching and the digital recreation of the actor is truly staggering. An overly cartoonish or phoney-looking digital character would have ruined the experience, but, luckily, the computer-generated depiction of Egon is wholly convincing in every single frame, without any 'uncanny valley' effect. (The team responsible for the digital Egon also created the unfailingly convincing young Rachel in Blade Runner 2049.) The resulting sequence is slightly predictable and cheesy, but it's executed with sincerity - it works.

It is surprisingly rare for legacy sequels to respect the relevant franchise, respect the lore, respect the fans and respect the characters, but Ghostbusters: Afterlife manages to achieve all of the above. Those who make legacy sequels are largely obsessed with reinvention and subverting expectations, ignoring fan desires to merrily destroy an established IP with ham-fisted political and ideological agendas, but Reitman has no interest in such things, which makes Afterlife such a welcome and refreshing breath of fresh air. (The only unmotivated instance of fan service is the miniature Marshmallow Men; as fun as they are, their inclusion feels forced and contrived.) It's not as funny or as witty as the original Ghostbusters (let's face it, not many can top Ramis and Aykroyd at the peak of their '80s screenwriting prime), but there is ample humour which is not broad or over-the-top, and the sense of comedic timing is dead-on. Additionally, the emotional punch of the outstanding climactic ghostbusting sequence cannot be overstated, which gives it a more lasting impact than many other contemporary blockbusters. Ghostbusters: Afterlife successfully merges the franchise's mythology with the spirit of children's adventure movies from the 1980s, and the result is a hugely enjoyable movie boosted by nostalgia. It's such a thrill to see the Ecto-1 back in action again after all these years, and the return of the original ghostbusters is one of the most exciting things to happen in cinema during 2021. Be sure to watch until the end of the credits for two additional scenes, including a set-up for the upcoming sequel.

8.1/10

The Ripper is another true-crime documentary series from Netflix, which concentrates on the high-profile "Yorkshire Ripper" murders from the 1970s to the early 1980s. The Yorkshire Ripper, named after the infamous Jack the Ripper, initially targeted prostitutes before he began to kill any women walking the streets at night. The ensuing investigation was costly and expansive, eventually leading to the capture and conviction of Peter William Sutcliffe. Netflix maintains such a high standard with its true-crime documentary shows, from the worldwide obsession that was Making a Murderer, to the more recent Night Stalker, but The Ripper is without doubt the poorest that the streaming giant has produced to date. And that is a real shame, because the Yorkshire Ripper case deserves a quality, comprehensive docuseries, but the potential is thoroughly squandered with this wrong-headed, unfocused miniseries.

Admittedly, The Ripper is not all bad, as there are some positive qualities which would be prudent to cover first. As to be expected, there are interviews with many participants throughout the series to effectively tell this story, including police officers who worked on the case as well as the victims' families, and the show is produced with the requisite polish you come to expect from Netflix - this is a 4K, High Dynamic Range-enhanced series, after all. The wealth of archival material is also interesting; I liked seeing the locations where everything took place, and the inner workings of the police station during the investigation. The first couple of episodes are relatively engaging, too, but then it takes a rapid nosedive. Let's count the flaws:

1) Lack of focus. Simply put, the show cannot figure out what it wants to be. Alas, it's not a straightforward or linear account of the murders, investigation and trial, which is what it should've been and sometimes tries to be. It's also not a profile of the Ripper himself, Peter Sutcliffe, as we don't learn much about his family life or his background; in fact, the show doesn't tell us much at all about him beyond his profession and that his father used to hit his mother, making him hate women. Regrettably, the show is more interested in the political stuff, which is extremely uninteresting, but again it's not actually about that - instead, this series is an unfocused, lazy mishmash of all possible angles. It's a lazy mess, rather than feeling properly comprehensive. It could've been two episodes purely focused on the investigation and arrest of Sutcliffe, followed by an episode profiling him, and then an episode about the feminist political propaganda. Such a structure would be cleaner and more effective.

2) Loose threads. Primarily, the show doesn't give the hoax letters and tapes due consideration, and it's treated more like a footnote when it was a bigger part of the investigation. The person who sent those letters and tapes was later arrested and charged, which is not covered in the series. The perpetrator also phoned the police station at the time to say that it was all fake, as he feared his efforts had stifled the investigation and it had gone too far. You wouldn't know any of that information from watching the documentary, as the story thread is promptly dropped. Also, this series came out in December 2020, a few weeks after the Ripper died of COVID-19, but that detail is not included, making it feel incomplete. Would ten seconds of text be too much to ask for? On that note, Sutcliffe's prison life was worth exploring, but it's not touched upon.

3) Missing details everywhere. As previously mentioned, the hoax letters and tapes were not given proper consideration, but there are far more missing details which go deeper than that. For instance, the five-pound note found at one of the crime scenes led to a detective following the cash from manufacturing to distribution, leading to a list of possible suspects who could have come into contact with the note. And Sutcliffe was on that list. Sutcliffe was not immediately arrested, as implied by the documentary; instead, he was under the microscope for some time, going through endless interviews and interrogations, before finally cracking and being charged. I mean, his wife provided alibis for him and swore by his innocence. None of this is mentioned. It's not even mentioned that a "dream team" of investigators came in to provide recommendations during the investigation. Or the theory about where the killer lived, based on the geographical location of the murders. And when the show critiques the police investigation, it doesn't even touch on the extensive, damning report which was completed following Sutcliffe's incarceration (maybe because said report was written by a male and the show is so anti-male, y'know). There is far more to be learned about this case, making this feel even more like a missed opportunity. Again, the series feels incredibly incomplete.

4) The political agenda. And here's the big one, which positively derails the show. Halfway through the third episode (which was directed by a woman, naturally), the series devolves into a dishonest, politically-motivated feminist mouthpiece. Those who lives through the Yorkshire Ripper's reign of terror don't recall the feminism being so heavy at the time outside of the "Reclaim the Night" march, and I'm not convinced that the archival footage of marches is all authentic... Documentaries should be objective and unbiased, especially about polarising political material, but The Ripper is anything but. It paints the angle that the investigation was bungled because it was run by men, not because it was run by incompetent police. It states that the investigators weren't equipped to deal with the investigation...because it was run by men. It introduces the ludicrous notion that the investigation was a male conspiracy against women. Worse, this viewpoint is not discussed or dissected adequately; it's just presented, without any counterargument. Projecting contemporary third-wave feminism bollocks onto a bygone era (which, yes, did have problems in terms of social justice) is problematic and feels politically-motivated. One interviewee reads out law enforcement victim profiles with disdain, even though such profiles are purely factual with no actual judgment being passed. The series fails to mention that attitudes towards sex workers during the era were appalling from both genders. Yes, women judged sex workers harshly, leading to a lack of sympathy from the public as a whole from the outset. The political stuff is just too much and too biased. This team could've just made an hour-long documentary about the feminist angle, but it's forcibly shoehorned into the series, contributing to that lack of focus that was previously discussed. A more fitting title would be Feminism and The Ripper (a title I would've avoided).

All in all, The Ripper is an egregious waste of time and effort, which is a crying shame because the interview material probably exists to make something more focused and compelling. But with the feminist propaganda and the lack of focus, it's a real slog. The Casefile podcast team covered this case in much more detail across three podcast episodes, and it it far more worth your while.

A new Christmas cult classic is born with 2020's Fatman, an eccentric mix of fantasy, violence and black comedy which will interest those who enjoy quirkier festive flicks like Rare Exports, Krampus or 2003's iconic Bad Santa. Indeed, rather than a saccharine holiday picture designed to generate warm or fuzzy feelings, writer/directors Eshom and Ian Nelms (Small Time Crime) put their own unique, distinctly dark spin on the holiday season with its assorted traditions and iconography. Fatman is undeniably ridiculous from a conceptual standpoint, but it is effectively executed with a straight face. With its unmistakable grittiness, as well as the underlying cynicism about the current state of the modern world, Fatman is an oddly appropriate and timely festive movie for 2020, and it is worth your attention if the concept appeals to you. Although not perfect, it's truly refreshing to see a Christmas film with genuine personality and even a dollop of emotion, as opposed to something more formulaic and factory-made.

A spoiled child living a life of luxury, Billy (Chance Hurstfield) secretly exploits the wealth of his wheelchair-bound grandmother (Deborah Grover) to maintain the services of a deranged assassin known as Skinny Man (Walton Goggins). Skinny Man harbours a long-time obsession with Father Christmas following a traumatic childhood experience, and oversees a collection of custom-made gifts from Santa's workshop. When Billy receives a lump of coal on Christmas Day, he promptly hires Skinny Man to kill Santa. Meanwhile, Chris Cringle (Mel Gibson) has grown weary of the holiday season, as good behaviour is continually on the downturn and fewer children than ever are deserving of gifts. Unfortunately, less presents means a smaller cheque from the United States government, and Chris faces the demise of his Christmas operation as the bills continue to mount. Supported by his loving wife, Ruth (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), Chris has no choice but to accept a contract with the U.S. Military, tasking his elves with building control panels for fighter jets.

Fatman's reimagining of the Santa Claus legend is one of the picture's biggest charms. Rather than a jolly, rotund man in a classical red outfit, Chris is a regular guy who's just trying to pay his bills and his employees, and who hits a rough financial patch due to his reduced government paycheques. He's also not immune from the dangers of the outside world, nor is he invisible, as kids occasionally shoot at Chris's sleigh. Plus, rather than a wondrous or magical North Pole home (à la The Santa Clause or The Christmas Chronicles), Chris lives in a simple farmhouse, and the workshop resembles a mundane factory. Nevertheless, this realistic take still contains fantastical elements, as Chris is instantly aware of everybody he encounters and can recall individual histories in an instant. Fatman hints at a wider mythology at play, but the directors smartly refrain from overtly answering or clarifying every point, leaving viewers to fill in some of the blanks. Indeed, the Santa Claus lore is more fun with a hint of mystery and intrigue, and the Nelms Brothers keep the narrative moving forward at such a confident pace that dwelling on the details would only slow down the proceedings unnecessarily.

This is the first major feature film for the Nelms Brothers, and they exude superb authority over the material; Fatman is a taut, technically proficient endeavour which never feels compromised or cheap, nor does it feel like a low-budget, direct-to-video flick. Additionally, the screenplay bursts with razor-sharp dark humour which is virtually non-stop throughout, from Billy's sheer ruthlessness to the many quirks of Skinny Man, who adores his pet hamster and takes it on his journey up north. The narrative steadily builds to a marvellous, vicious third-act showdown between Chris and Skinny Man in the snow which draws noticeable inspiration from classic Western flicks, complete with Morricone-esque music. Skinny Man's brutal siege on Santa's compound is marvellous, and the Nelms Brothers keep things practical and tangible as much as possible, including blank-firing prop weapons and real blood squibs, both of which contribute to the agreeable aesthetic. Fatman also benefits from a superb, atmospheric, synth-infused soundtrack by the Mondo Boys, which incorporates some familiar Christmas musical notes but sounds wholly unique and original.

Gibson is one of the film's biggest assets; he's a superb pick for the titular character, playing a conflicted Santa Claus who seems more like a grizzled war veteran than a jolly fat man. Gibson never mugs for the camera and it never seems like he's in on the joke, which is precisely why his performance is so effective and humorous. Playing the patently ludicrous material so straight is a risky move, but Gibson sells it all with charismatic conviction, creating a distinctive and badass interpretation of this longstanding cultural figure. Additionally, Chris and Ruth's relationship represents the heart of the movie, and Marianne Jean-Baptiste is an absolute treat as Santa's wife. Gibson and Jean-Baptiste share a lovely, easy-going chemistry, and the affection is palpable between the two. Their relationship is not rote or robotic; rather, it's genuine and heartfelt. Another huge asset is the always-reliable Goggins, who's downright perfect as the callous, chain-smoking Skinny Man. Goggins is an excellent comedic actor, and he plays the role with utmost sincerity despite the sheer silliness of the material, scoring laughs at every turn. Also of note is Chance Hurstfield, who's easy to hate as the contemptible Billy, a.k.a. "Little Shit."

Fatman closes with gun battles and a smattering of fisticuffs, but it is not necessarily an action movie. Instead, the Nelms Brothers create a darkly comedic character study with witty dialogue and sporadic bursts of aggression, supported by an exceptional ensemble cast who consistently hit their respective marks. Additionally, the Nelms Brothers have tremendous fun putting their offbeat spin on the well-worn Santa Claus mythology, and a genuine sense of earnestness permeates the material - this is not a lazy one-joke feature. Admittedly, there are not many plot surprises here (the trailer handily summarises the story), but this is a minor knock against an otherwise highly enjoyable feature. Although Fatman is not a Christmas movie for every taste, it boldly stands out in a sea of sentimental, traditional festive flicks.

7.9/10

After the truly awful Deep Blue Sea 2 in 2018, the prospect of another direct-to-video sequel to 1999's fun-as-hell shark flick Deep Blue Sea seemed about as exciting as a moist fart. Yet, even with a limited budget and no major stars, 2020's Deep Blue Sea 3 is a far better sequel than its immediate predecessor, and it's a more entertaining watch than anticipated. Written by Dirk Blackman (Underworld: Rise of the Lycans) and directed by John Pogue (Quarantine 2: Terminal), this threequel continues the previous movie's dangling plot thread but emerges as more of a standalone story and attempts to recapture the spirit of the original picture, albeit with mixed results. Indeed, as fun as it mostly is, Deep Blue Sea 3 is not a slam-dunk by any stretch of the imagination, as it remains wholly pedestrian from a story and character standpoint.

Working on a tiny, abandoned island known as Little Happy, scientist Dr. Emma Collins (Tania Raymonde) leads a team of researchers to investigate the effects of climate change, hoping that her findings will help prevent an environmental disaster. Assisted by Eugene Shaw (Emerson Brooks) as well as techies Spinnaker (Alex Bhat) and Miya (Reina Aoi), Emma spends most of her days diving in a fish nursery, which is also home to a great white shark named Sally. But the team is put in danger following the arrival of Emma's ex-boyfriend, Richard (Nathaniel Buzolic), who reveals that three aggressive, genetically-engineered bull sharks have entered the area. Richard leads a team of mercenaries hired to recapture these bull sharks, but tensions run high as the teams distrust each other, exacerbating the already precarious situation.

Deep Blue Sea 3's story is tied to the two previous instalments and the characters directly reference the events of its predecessors, but you do not need knowledge of either film to follow the story here, and the dire Deep Blue Sea 2 is not required viewing. Without a doubt, the least successful aspect of Deep Blue Sea 3 is the violent friction between the human characters, with needlessly corny melodrama and some over-the-top villain characters. (Australian martial artist Bren Foster, in particular, hams it up to the extreme as one of the mercenaries.) The first Deep Blue Sea is gloriously free of such narrative nonsense, instead remaining focused on the fight for survival against the intelligent sharks, but Deep Blue Sea 3 also indulges in fisticuffs to further enhance the C-movie vibe. Furthermore, it almost goes without saying, but the characters are predominantly one-dimensional and the dialogue is tin-eared, leading to problematic pacing between the shark set-pieces. With a 100-minute runtime, this is a surprisingly beefy flick, and too much time is dedicated to romantic subplots that lead nowhere.

Director Pogue gleefully embraces the cheese to stage some ridiculously amusing death scenes, including a homage to the original film's most memorable death and a decapitation that left this reviewer howling with laughter. Pogue occasionally attempts suspenseful scenes, but lacks the panache to create genuine horror or terror - it's not a patch on the original Deep Blue Sea or something like 2016's The Shallows. Additionally, digital effects are not a strong suit of the Deep Blue Sea movies, and this remains true of Deep Blue Sea 3. Admittedly, the computer-generated sharks are better than expected and occasionally stand up to scrutiny, but the digital effects mostly lack polish and reek of the movie's direct-to-video origins. If there is a Deep Blue Sea 4, are animatronic sharks too much to ask for? Added to this, the limited budget is further reflected in the cramped setting (do not expect the lavish production design of the first Deep Blue Sea) and the lack of star power, though there are some possibly familiar faces in Nathaniel Buzolic (Hacksaw Ridge, The Vampire Diaries, The Originals), Tania Raymonde (Texas Chainsaw 3D, Lost), and Emerson Brooks (Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Last Ship). Another drawback is the forgettable score by Mark Kilian, which is not a patch on Trevor Rabin's superb music from the original Deep Blue Sea. In short, Deep Blue Sea 3 often feels like a SyFy original, but with a little bit more talent than usual.

It is difficult to recommend Deep Blue Sea 3 to any serious cinephiles or film buffs accustomed to cinema from the likes of Scorsese or Spielberg - it's certainly no Jaws. But as far as C-grade, direct-to-video killer shark flicks go, this is a sufficiently entertaining sit for those in the proper mood. It's a smarter pick than the recent 47 Meters Down: Uncaged or the unwatchable Open Water 3: Cage Dive. Even though Deep Blue Sea 3 is not memorable (aside from some absurd kill scenes) or even especially good, it's a fun enough ride while it lasts despite its flaws and predictability.

5.2/10

Blinded by the Light is a feel-good triumph, an immensely entertaining and heartfelt coming-of-age story supported by an exceptional soundtrack filled with irresistible 1980s music. Directed by British filmmaker Gurinder Chadha (Bend It Like Beckham, Bride and Prejudice), Blinded by the Light is based on journalist Sarfraz Manzoor's 2007 memoir Greetings from Bury Park: Race, Religion and Rock N' Roll, which is a literary tribute to his hero, Bruce Springsteen. Like the book, this adaptation illustrates the universal themes of Springsteen's lyrics and ideas which transcend race and religion, and the screenplay uses his music to explore working-class life in England during the 1980s. Although it falls just short of perfection, Blinded by the Light is jam-packed with charm and heart, emerging as one of 2019's most underrated and underappreciated motion pictures. It's fun, funny, joyous and visually sumptuous, and it confidently stands up to repeat viewings.

In 1987, Muslim teenager Javed (Viveik Kalra) is stuck in the dead-end British town of Luton with his family, including devoutly traditional Pakistani migrant father Malik (Kulvinder Ghir). Javed dreams of becoming a writer and attending university in Manchester, but he's constrained by his family's expectations, particularly after Malik loses his job and faces severe financial strain. At school, Javed meets another South Asian student named Roops (Aaron Phagura), who introduces him to the miracle of Bruce Springsteen music. Instantly, The Boss' songs speak to Javed in a way that nothing else has, with the lyrics encouraging him to take risks and follow his dreams. Javed's passion for Springsteen's music helps him find his voice to write poetry, which is also spurred on by his English teacher, Ms. Clay (Hayley Atwell), and a kindly elderly neighbour (David Hayman) who takes an interest in the teenager's literary works. Javed soon attracts the interest of a student activist, Eliza (Nell Williams), but Malik disapproves of his son's newfound liberation, instead forcing Javed to adopt traditional Pakistani values and career paths.

With a script by Chadha, Manzoor, and Bend It Like Beckham co-writer Paul Mayeda Berges, Blinded by the Light tackles a lot of narrative and thematic material during its two-hour duration. On top of Javed's spiritual awakening, the film delves into the tough British economy during Thatcher's reign (with job losses, high unemployment rates and industrial unrest), the era's political turmoil, racist attitudes, as well as the cultural expectations of Pakistani children like Javed. While the narrative beats are hardly new ideas in the realm of coming-of-age stories, especially the tension between Javed and his parents, it hardly matters when the execution is this confident and jubilant. Moreover, even though Blinded by the Light tugs on the heartstrings a few times in the third act, it does not feel mawkish or manipulative, which is a testament to Chadha's well-judged direction. Not everything works - the most egregious plot distraction involves Javed abruptly breaking up with Eliza, while the characters also overcome some plot obstacles a bit too conveniently - but there are no major shortcomings.

Although not a traditional movie musical, Blinded by the Light is peppered with flights of fancy which showcase Springsteen's music, and the resulting sequences are magical. During one especially rousing scene, a despondent Javed listens to Springsteen for the first time on his Walkman, and the lyrics appear on-screen around him to highlight the poeticism and relevance of The Boss' words. In another scene, Javed fearlessly sings an impromptu version of "Thunder Road" at an outdoor market, joined by Rob Brydon (a massive Springsteen fan in real life), to woo Eliza. Such sequences risk coming across as cornball or awkward, but they work thanks to Chadha's sincere handling of the material. Chadha's directional approach is low-key during the dramatic character moments, but she cuts loose with an electric sense of style when Springsteen tracks fill the speakers, though she's careful not to overdo these sequences. Blinded by the Light features twelve Springsteen songs, including several classic hits and a few rarities that fans of The Boss will cherish. The soundtrack even contains the previously unreleased song "I'll Stand by You," which was originally written for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone but ended up being shelved for nearly twenty years. Furthermore, the recreation of '80s-era England here is virtually effortless, from the distinctive fashion to the storefronts and vehicles, as well as the technology. Additionally, the production design feels astonishingly authentic and lived-in - and it was all achieved on a very modest $15 million budget.

Newcomer Kalra (making his film debut) is one hell of a find, creating a three-dimensional and thoroughly believable character with the role of Javed. There is not a single moment of artifice from Kalra throughout the movie - every line delivery is credible, and he conveys incredible emotional depth as he transforms from a timid teenager to a young adult, developing the confidence to come out of his shell and embrace his passion for writing. Meanwhile, as Malik, Kulvinder Ghir (Bend It Like Beckham) gives genuine gravitas and depth to what could've been a one-note role. It's the father-son relationship at the centre of Blinded by the Light which gives the movie its emotional grounding, ensuring that - despite the fantastical elements - the story is profoundly human. Also worth mentioning is funnyman Rob Brydon in a small but colourful role as the father of Javed's best friend, Matt (Dean-Charles Chapman).

Although not an outright financial bomb, Blinded by the Light failed to light the box office on fire, which is a great injustice for a flick this insanely disarming. Much like Chadha's 2002 hit Bend It Like Beckham, this is a shameless crowd-pleaser with honest-to-goodness humanity and evocative themes which has several cultural talking points on its mind. The script cannot avoid clichés or familiar narrative beats, but it all gels, miraculously coming together to create something brilliant and narratively meaningful. Although somewhat cheesy at times, the material never feels phoney or false, which reflects the quality of the performances and the direction. Blinded by the Light is absolutely worth your time, and it would be a fantastic double feature with John Carney's similarly brilliant '80s-themed 2016 musical Sing Street.

8.4/10

Director Peter Weir's follow-up to the critically acclaimed Picnic at Hanging Rock, 1977's The Last Wave is a seminal motion picture from the Australian New Wave era of the '70s and '80s, during which Australian cinema saw a resurgence in worldwide popularity. Instead of a generic or simplistic apocalyptic drama, The Last Wave is steeped in Australia's Indigenous culture, with unique Dreamtime themes that are seldom represented in mainstream motion pictures. With a screenplay by Weir, Tony Morphett and Petru Popescu, this is a thematically intriguing and haunting mystery, buoyed by a top-notch cast and a consistently engaging, ethereal visual style.

A mysterious wild weather event hits Australia, bringing heavy rain and hail to both rural towns and metropolitan areas, and the Indigenous population are the only people able to recognise the significance of the abnormal weather conditions. After an altercation between a group of Aboriginal men outside a pub in Sydney, one of them mysteriously winds up dead, though the cause of death is inconclusive. A coronial inquest rules the death as a homicide, and the Aboriginal men involved are summarily accused of murder. With a trial date scheduled, the men receive legal representation in the form of white solicitor David Burton (Richard Chamberlain), a devoted family man with a loving wife (Olivia Hamnett) and two daughters. With the freak rainstorms persisting and black rain starting to fall, David is plagued by strange visions that he cannot explain, and he senses an inexplicable connection to one of the accused men, Chris (David Gulpilil). Through learning about Aboriginal culture, David begins to believe that his visions are premonitions of a coming apocalypse.

The central mystery driving The Last Wave is not a question of innocence; instead, the mystery is why the Aboriginal men committed the crime. The accused men remain tight-lipped throughout the judicial process, with Chris perpetually reluctant to tell David about the spiritual implications of either the death or the damaging rainstorms. David is a rational middle-class man with social skills and material wealth, yet he is suddenly confronted with a developing situation that is beyond his conventional understanding. Under Weir's careful direction, The Last Wave is not fast-paced or full of instant gratification; instead, it's all about the build-up and suspense, and is closer to a European arthouse film than a mainstream Hollywood thriller. Admittedly, however, Weir cannot quite stick the landing, as the climactic sequence in an underground Sydney tunnel system loses a bit of direction and seems slightly rushed. Nevertheless, this is a relatively minor misstep.

The Last Wave is elevated by the sumptuous, measured cinematography courtesy of industry veteran Russell Boyd, who previously filmed Picnic at Hanging Rock for Weir. Boyd and Weir embrace the opportunity to show off some eye-catching Sydney locations, though Adelaide also stood in for Sydney from time to time (David's house, for instance, is an Adelaide location). Weir's visualisations of David's surrealistic dreams are stunning, with a strong theme about the power of nature - in one especially memorable scene, David sees a modern Sydney street submerged in water, complete with vehicles, people and shopfronts. The sense of atmosphere throughout The Last Wave is enthralling, with heavy rain and powerful winds, and the movie further benefits from a hypnotic synthesiser score by Charles Wain (this was one of only two feature films he scored). Luckily, the meagre $800,000 budget scarcely limits the scope of the story, and, aside from a few fleeting instances of obvious, low-quality archival footage (see the final scene, for example), the movie does not feel cheap.

Another tremendous asset is the cast. Leading man Chamberlain emanates charisma and infuses the material with honest-to-goodness gravitas, while seasoned Indigenous actor Gulpilil (Storm Boy, Crocodile Dundee, Dark Age) is credible and disarming as an enigmatic tribal Aborigine. Admittedly, The Last Wave is not for all tastes due to its arthouse sensibilities as well as the deliberate ambiguousness of several plot points. Indeed, the ending leaves room open to interpretation, which might be maddening for viewers expecting a more mainstream thriller. However, for film buffs interested in genre-bending titles or Australian movies, this motion picture is worth your time. Beset with haunting imagery and powerful performances, The Last Wave is the type of surrealistic, atmospheric cinema that filmmakers often attempt but rarely get right.

7.9/10

Australian involvement in the Vietnam War is seldom covered in film and television, outside of the little-known 1979 film The Odd Angry Shot and the obscure 1987 miniseries Vietnam. Enter 2019's Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan, a contemporary Australian production about the oft-studied titular battle from 1966. Under the careful directorial eye of Kriv Stenders (Red Dog, Australia Day), Danger Close is a top-notch war film which is both intense and riveting, and it deserves to be viewed on the largest possible screen. Commendably, this is not a bargain-basement production that feels cheap or nasty; rather, it's a slick and proficiently produced feature which never appears budgetarily constrained. Although not able to reach the upper echelon of war movies, Danger Close presents an accurate, satisfying, and above all moving recreation of the historical battle.

In August of 1966, three Australian Army Delta Company platoons led by Major Harry Smith (Travis Fimmel) are dispatched to investigate a rubber tree plantation at Long Tan following a mortar attack on the 1st Australian Task Force base in South Vietnam. Commanded by Second Lieutenant Gordon Sharp (Mojean Aria), with support from Sergeant Bob Buick (Luke Bracey), 11 Platoon comes under heavy fire from an entire battalion of Viet Cong and North Vietnamese soldiers, and struggle to hold the line with dwindling resources until reinforcements arrive. 12 Platoon, under the command of Second Lieutenant David Sabben (Sam Parsonson), as well as 10 Platoon, scramble to help their fellow soldiers. As the inexperienced Australian men engage in the fight of their lives, the skittish officers back at the base are wary of the risk of sending more reinforcements into Long Tan. 

Controversies surround the Vietnam War as well as Australia's involvement, but Danger Close wisely eschews exploring the turbulent political situation; instead, the film simply concentrates on the Australian soldiers who faced impossible odds on the battlefield. This results in a refreshingly apolitical, boots-on-the-ground war picture devoid of narrative flab and sensationalism. Among the most commendable aspects of Danger Close is its accessibility, as even viewers unfamiliar with military operations and jargon will still be able to follow and become invested in the proceedings. Additionally, the movie provides sufficient context and build-up before the titular battle commences, establishing the characters (without relying on stereotypical flashbacks or hoary stories about wives/girlfriends back home) and even revealing that a concert was occurring on the afternoon of the battle. Admittedly, though, the screenplay does take dramatic liberties, some of which are detrimental. For instance, the portrayal of Second Lieutenant Sharp is unnecessarily antagonistic and ignorant, and an early heated exchange between Major Smith and Private Paul Large (Daniel Webber) seems gratuitous and overblown. There are a few too many dramatic scenes of soldiers defiantly standing up to their superiors, as well. However, these are minor shortcomings.

The production benefits from comprehensive research and an exhaustive attention to detail, which is reflected in the screenplay (credited to five writers, including Stuart Beattie) as well as the production values. Produced on a robust $24 million AUD budget, the illusion throughout Danger Close is compelling and convincing, from the era-specific period recreation to the spot-on costumes and firearms, in addition to the intense battle sequences beset with explosions and bullets zooming through the air. Stenders acquits himself admirably with the material, staging the shootouts with visual finesse and superlative intensity, aided by superb editing and slick cinematography, as well as exceptional sound design which puts you in the thick of the action alongside the Australian and New Zealand soldiers. (The sound design won an AACTA award.) The fighting throughout Danger Close is visceral and violent, and Stenders never shies away from showing bullet impacts or wounded soldiers. The use of practical effects and authentic jungle locations (with Queensland, Australia standing in for Vietnam) gives the production a gritty, realistic edge, while sparing use of subtle digital effects further augment the illusion. The CGI is occasionally obvious, especially when artillery is deployed (plus, the slow-motion POV shots following artillery shells through the air are a bit gratuitous), but it's not a deal-breaker. Danger Close also benefits from the score by Australian composer Caitlin Yeo (who specialises in documentaries and TV shows); the music is flavoursome and intense, and is never too intrusive. Even though there is a lot of fighting throughout Danger Close's two-hour runtime, it does not feel repetitive or boring.

In the de facto lead role of Major Smith, it is interesting to see Travis Fimmel (The Beast, Vikings) espouse his native Australian accent, and the resultant performance is unfailingly engaging. Fimmel is arguably the most high-profile actor in the cast (except maybe Richard Roxburgh or Luke Bracey), as the ensemble otherwise comprises of lesser-known Aussie talent. The lack of forced international star power is laudable, and the performers effectively hit their marks throughout. The movie also contains a welcome, larrikin sense of humour which makes the soldiers feel more real; one character even retorts "We're not here to fuck spiders!" in one scene. Furthermore, Australian Army advisors were present during every stage of the production; therefore, the battlefield tactics and firing positions ring true in every frame, giving the movie a stronger sense of authenticity.

As is almost customary for this type of true-life war picture, Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan closes with a montage of images of the real men involved in the battle, paying poignant tribute to the soldiers and their sacrifices. Plus, it's all set to the (somewhat predictable) tune of "I Was Only 19" by Redgum. It is a wonder why it took so long for the Battle of Long Tan to receive the big-screen treatment since the skirmish is frequently covered in classrooms across Australia, but it's encouraging to report that this movie has finally happened and that it's actually worthwhile. Danger Close is worth your time and attention, and it will stand the test of time.

8.0/10

Arriving twelve months after 2018's culturally significant Black Panther, Captain Marvel is the first instalment in the ever-expanding Marvel Cinematic Universe to feature a female lead. The obvious comparison in this respect is 2017's Wonder Woman, which verified the commercial and critical validity of female-led superhero movies after years of misfires (Elektra, Catwoman, Supergirl, and so on). Unfortunately, although it is reassuring to finally see a female-led MCU entry, this aspect alone is not enough to elevate Captain Marvel above the ordinary. In fact, the effort as a whole is below-average - it's certainly slick and full of colourful action, but it lacks the requisite stakes to make this story genuinely compelling. Furthermore, it lacks the thematic and narrative elegance of something like Wonder Woman, and the result feels like the worst kind of bland, commercial, assembly-line filmmaking.

Carol Danvers (Brie Larson), who is known as Vers, works as part of a Kree military squad on the planet Hala, answering to her mentor and commander, Yon-Rogg (Jude Law). The Kree are at war with the Skrulls, a race of shape-shifting extraterrestrials led by Talos (Ben Mendelsohn) who are capable of impersonating humanoids. Following a conflict with the Skrulls, Carol is subjected to a mind probe which reveals scattered memories of a past life on Earth in which she was a pilot in the United States Air Force. Carol escapes but crash-lands on Earth in the mid-1990s, where she immediately attracts the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg). With the Skrulls arriving on Earth, Carol pairs up with Fury to stop a potentially world-ending alien invasion. In the process, Carol also learns more about the life she previously lived, reuniting with her former co-pilot and best friend Maria (Lashana Lynch).

With a script credited to directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck (Mississippi Grind), as well as Geneva Robertson-Dworet, one of the fundamental issues facing Captain Marvel relates to the narrative. The opening act of the movie is borderline indecipherable, rushing frenetically through too much story material without any substance to supplement the visual pizzazz. As a result, even though the film benefits from a slick technical presentation that is customary for the MCU, it's impossible to feel genuinely involved in the proceedings. Moreover, whether it's a shortcoming of the editing or the screenplay, the film butchers the Kree/Skrull war, which is a significant storyline in the comics but receives insufficient development here. Worse, Captain Marvel should be about Carol trying to reconcile with having fragmented memories of a past life, and experiencing the disorientation of recognising places and people without knowing why she does. Upon arriving on Earth, investigating these memories should be Carol's primary motivation, taking precedence over the Skrull hunt. Alas, without this motivation, Carol's arc feels tragically underdeveloped. Admittedly, dealing with Carol's origin in flashback is a welcome formula change, but the audience should be allowed to spend more time in Carol's past life to get to know her. Alas, a lack of meaty background detail affects a viewer's ability to become emotionally invested in the protagonist or care when she's in danger.

At the end of the second act, Captain Marvel pulls a bait and switch with a twist that recontextualises the narrative. However, not everything adds up with the characters' previous behaviours, and it also means that the real villain is not revealed until the finale. The political metaphor of said finale is about as subtle as a shotgun; the villain is, essentially, the patriarchy holding Carol back from embracing her true power. Equally awful is a battle sequence set to the tune of "Just a Girl," to further underscore the dubious significance of a female superhero kicking arse on-screen. Indeed, Captain Marvel is too on-the-nose with political matters, with Carol being belittled by an obnoxious man on a motorcycle, and preachy themes about border control/refugees. Real-world allegories are a staple of Marvel Comics, but most of this material comes across as head-slappingly obvious and sanctimonious. Even the devout refusal to include a love interest for Carol is clearly a political decision.

There is no denying Larson's talent as an actress, with her breakout role in Room leading to an Academy Award, but she is grossly miscast as Carol Danvers. She lacks personality and spunk, and fails to make an adequate impression or convey requisite cinematic strength. One can certainly argue that her memory loss led to a personality wipe, but her renewed personality should begin to emerge through the film as she grows and develops. Unfortunately, this does not occur. Worse, there is no character arc for Carol. Throughout the movie, men consistently belittle her and hold her back, until she eventually removes an actual physical mechanism which suppresses her powers, and summarily becomes supercharged and invincible. But this version of a hero's journey literally amounts to Carol being right and perfect for her whole life, and the proceedings continually validating her righteousness. In other words, there are no flaws for her to overcome, nor does she actually learn anything, because Carol has no flaws - and, consequently, she does not feel human or relatable. Thus, Carol does not have a meaty motivation and never undergoes a meaningful arc. It's difficult to ignore the political implications of this character, since the writers appear reluctant to portray Carol as flawed in any way. One could argue that any number of weaknesses might feel clichéd or overdone, but, if executed with genuine sincerity, even the tritest of character weaknesses can translate to something meaningful and emotional. Anything would be more rewarding than this.

On the bright side, the 1990s nostalgia is appreciated, such as Carol crash-landing into a Blockbuster Video store, plus a painfully slow-loading CD-ROM drive and the mostly agreeable selection of era-specific songs. (Carol even wears a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt.) Also, the recreation of the 1990s is spot-on, from the vehicles to the fashions, and production values are state-of-the-art all-round. Another element which truly works is the original score by Pinar Toprak (TV's Krypton), which is flavoursome and unique as opposed to outright generic - there is even some retro synth. Unfortunately, no amount of CGI and nostalgia can compensate for the utter emptiness of the battle sequences, which are devoid of stakes because it's impossible to care about Carol and it's difficult to become invested in the Kree-Skrull war. Furthermore, watching the supercharged Carol defeat everybody without breaking a sweat is about as interesting as watching paint dry. Captain Marvel also lacks a sense of the exotic since every alien species on-screen speaks English. Hell, the Skrulls are often depicted as buffoonish, too, which undermines any sense of menace. Unsurprisingly, Mendelsohn is an acting standout - he is even allowed to embrace his native Australian accent while playing Talos, and he gives the material genuine gravitas.

The prequel angle of Captain Marvel facilitates some interesting possibilities; for instance, both Djimon Hounsou and Lee Pace reprise their (now-deceased) roles from Guardians of the Galaxy. However, Pace's role of Ronan the Accuser is particularly emasculated and powerless, with his appearance amounting to nothing. This story also introduces a glaring timeline issue relating to the Tesseract, which is top-secret S.H.I.E.L.D. property but was apparently loaned out to a military scientist (played by Annette Bening). Meanwhile, the digital de-aging of Jackson is sublime, ably demonstrating that this technology has progressed to the point that such characters can take on a major role in future productions, which has innumerable possibilities. Jackson visibly enjoys playing a younger version of Fury, delivering a loose, humorous performance - he almost saves the movie. However, Jackson's athleticism is lacking, as he still moves with the limited agility of a man in his 70s. (Martin Scorsese's The Irishman encountered a similar issue.) The mystery of Fury's scarred eye is also addressed...and it is disappointing and underwhelming. It is also worth pointing out that the de-aging of Clark Gregg (in his first Marvel movie since 2012's The Avengers) is less effective, though the illusion still works to an extent.

Among the things that Captain Marvel does correctly, the opening tribute to the late Stan Lee is enough to bring a tear to your eye, and Stan's cameo in the film is one of his better appearances in the MCU. At the end of the day, however, Captain Marvel is one big misfire which sits right at the bottom of the Marvel canon, just below The Incredible Hulk and the two Ant-Man films. The narrative issues are a major problem, as well as the lack of a character arc - as a result, this superhero blockbuster entertaining in drips and drabs, but falls drastically short of the brilliance of Iron Man or The Avengers, or any number of other great MCU entries. Even though Larson's titular character is on-screen for two hours, she still remains an enigma when the end credits begin to appear, and she's never as endearing or as fun as Jackson's Nick Fury. Captain Marvel is a waste of potential, pure and simple.

4.7/10

The first cinematic adaptation of H.G. Wells' renowned 1898 novel of the same name, The War of the Worlds endures as one of the most defining science-fiction films of the 1950s. Following in the shadow of The Day the Earth Stood Still and When Worlds Collide, but appearing before the likes of Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind in 1977, this ambitious 1953 production uses the premise of an alien attack to play on the Cold War-era paranoia about foreign invasion. There is no denying the historical or cultural significance of this original The War of the Worlds, with its groundbreaking special effects and a daring story about malevolent invaders which scared the living daylights out of audiences back in 1953. However, there is not much in the way of humanity or substance to this sci-fi thriller, which also appears noticeably dated in many respects.

When a flaming meteor from outer space crashes near a small town in California, scientist Dr. Clayton Forrester (Gene Barry) is quickly drawn to  the impact site, along with scores of tourists and curious locals. Deciding to pursue further examination of the meteor, Clayton soon meets beautiful librarian Sylvia Van Buren (Ann Robinson) who is excited to learn about his work. However, the meteor turns out to be one of several alien crafts that have landed around the Earth, from which powerful Martian war machines emerge to obliterate cities and eradicate humans. Although the American military is quick to act, invisible shields protect the war machines which are impervious to all of humanity's weaponry. As the Martians intensify their relentless assault, Clayton and Sylvia desperately endeavour to find a scientific way to defeat the invaders, turning to Clayton's colleagues at Pacific Tech for help.

Although sci-fi movies existed before The War of the Worlds, there had never been anything quite like this before. The screenplay by Barré Lyndon shoots down all notions of a benevolent alien race as the first characters to make contact with the Martians are summarily incinerated - the invaders are "cool and unsympathetic," in the words of H.G. Wells. Additionally, Lyndon's adaptation majorly deviates from Wells' original novel in several ways, but perhaps the most notable is the film's perspective on religion. For instance, a sympathetic pastor (Lewis Martin) plays a considerable role in the first act before dying as a martyr, and the conclusion strongly implies that divine intervention is what leads to the Martians' defeat. These religious overtones are not uncommon for the era but do not play as well in 2020, especially the abrupt ending that feels sudden and anticlimactic.

Directed by Byron Haskin on a modest $2 million budget, the scale of The War of the Worlds is genuinely extraordinary for the era. Especially considering the crude special effects technology of the early 1950s, the imagery of the flying Martian war machines destroying cities is undeniably remarkable. Captured by cinematographer George Barnes (The Greatest Show on Earth), The War of the Worlds was shot in gorgeous Three-Strip Technicolor, which creates a striking, vivid filmic image. Although the visual effects are dated by 2020 standards, the design of the Martian war machines is commendable, deliberately resembling manta rays, while the accompanying sound effects are highly inventive. However, the design of the actual Martians is much less successful, as they look downright silly and laughable. It is difficult to share Sylvia's terror when she comes face to face with one of the Martians, which is a major problem. Furthermore, there's an undeniable "stagey" feeling to large swaths of the film, since The War of the Worlds was primarily shot on studio sound stages and the actors frequently stood on sets in front of extensive matte paintings. Unfortunately, this creates an artificial aesthetic, though the artistry is still easy to appreciate.

More problematic about The War of the Worlds is the lack of humanity; the movie features dull, one-dimensional characters who feel more like archetypes than actual humans. Unsurprisingly for a 1950s sci-fi flick, the story mostly concentrates on scientists and military men, and there is no room amid the spectacle for any authentic character development. Additionally, the characters do not even carry any recognisable personality traits. Some of the dialogue is memorable, such as the proclamation of "Once they begin to move, no more news comes out of that area" which is referenced in the 2005 Steven Spielberg remake, but there's simply no solid emotional core to supplement the death and destruction. Consequently, it is difficult to become fully involved and invested in the proceedings. Nevertheless, the actors themselves are fine, with Gene Barry and Ann Robinson giving it their all despite playing glorified archetypes, but nobody deserves any awards.

The War of the Worlds still has ample merit, and there is no denying its ineffaceable influence on sci-fi cinema which remains apparent in the 21st Century. The special effects are impressive for the era, while the accompanying music by Leith Stevens is memorable and impactful - the main title theme is especially fantastic. Nevertheless, especially due to the film's often stilted disposition, this iteration of The War of the Worlds is virtually obsolete for today's audiences, and is only an essential watch for cinema or sci-fi enthusiasts. As blasphemous as it may sound to some, I greatly prefer Steven Spielberg's 2005 remake.

7.1/10

1983's Uncommon Valor is a real meat and potatoes action movie ingrained with macho themes of brotherhood, honour and heroism, plus a considerable side order of testosterone. Directed by Ted Kotcheff (Wake in Fright) and produced by the inimitable John Milius, this is a satisfying manly movie in every sense of the word; a live-action iteration of "Soldiers of Fortune" magazine, packed with guns, explosions, helicopters and plenty of attitude.

A decade after the United States pulled out of the Vietnam War, some 2500 American soldiers are still listed as "missing in action," and might still be imprisoned in Vietnam. Retired Marine Colonel Jason Rhodes (Gene Hackman) firmly believes that his son, Frank (Todd Allen), is still alive and being held at a POW camp in Laos after being listed as MIA. After years of searching and gathering information, Rhodes discovers a promising lead but receives no assistance from the U.S. government. Determined to bring Frank home safely, Rhodes secures financial backing from a wealthy oil businessman (Robert Stack) and assembles a team of Vietnam veterans who were a part of Frank's platoon. Joining the group is former Recon Marine Kevin Scott (Patrick Swayze), whose father is also MIA in Vietnam. Under Rhodes' leadership, the team begins extensive training for the dangerous operation before flying into Southeast Asia hoping to bring home their missing countrymen.

The notion of American prisoners of war still being held in Vietnam became a full-blown action subgenre in the 1980s, leading to the likes of Missing in Action, Rambo: First Blood Part II, and other minor action titles. Perhaps unsurprisingly, since this is an action movie first and foremost, the intricate political situation surrounding the Vietnam War POW/MIA issue is only briefly touched upon, and is not explored with any depth or significance. Furthermore, the Rhodes family angle is undercooked and cut down to the bare essentials. Hell, Rhodes' wife (Gail Strickland) only receives about a minute of screen-time in total. Indeed, the screenplay (credited to Joe Gayton, from a story by actor Wings Hauser) is more focused on the mission at hand, tracking Rhodes as he determinedly assembles his squad and begins training before they travel to Laos. It's pretty formulaic, but that's par for the course - and even though some clichés are apparent, the movie manages to circumvent other obvious genre tropes. Uncommon Valor delivers what matters the most in this genre: it's brisk and no-nonsense, without any distracting pretensions or subplots to weigh down the narrative.

Kotcheff, who was fresh off directing 1982's First Blood, shows a firm command of the movie, making the most of the generous (for the era) $11 million budget. Aside from the opening scene depicting a battle in Vietnam, the action is reserved for the third act when the squad heads into hostile territory, and it is worth the wait - the finale at the POW camp is genuinely exciting and well-crafted, with competent production values to boot. The set-pieces are captured with sturdy cinematography by Stephen H. Burum, who often collaborated with Francis Ford Coppola (he even shot Apocalypse Now) and became Brian De Palma's go-to director of photography. Uncommon Valor was produced before the digital filmmaking revolution; therefore, it's a showcase for practical effects, with several helicopters even featuring in the climax. There's a certain grit and charm to '80s action movies with real pyrotechnics, location shooting and sets, which makes this a hugely entertaining watch in the 21st Century. Plus, although the action sequences still exhibit '80s filmmaking sensibilities, the shootouts are more believable than a more standard-order goofy action film, and are not outright ridiculous. Uncommon Valor also features one of James Horner's earlier film scores, and it's characteristically rousing work by the late composer. There's genuine majesty to the music, ably driving the film and amplifying the sense of excitement during the action scenes. The film even closes with a cheesy but effective Ray Kennedy song called "Brothers in the Night," which is note-perfect for the end credits.

A men-on-a-mission movie of this ilk heavily relies on a memorable ensemble cast, and Uncommon Valor delivers in this respect. Veteran actor (and former real-life Marine) Hackman is great in anything, and he's a superb leader as Colonel Rhodes, bringing reliable gravitas to the role despite the movie's B-grade origins. The colourful ensemble also incorporates a demolitions expert (Reb Brown), a traumatised soldier who prefers stealth kills (Fred Ward), an ace pilot (Tim Thomerson), a token African-American soldier (Harold Sylvester), and a crazy but loyal machine gunner (Randall "Tex" Cobb). Cobb is a scene-stealer as the unhinged Sailor, and he's lovable in his craziness. Meanwhile, Swayze is surprisingly terrific as the by-the-book Marine Corporal, even though this was only his third feature-film appearance (this was a year before Red Dawn). The actors all hit their marks confidently, ensuring that we have a firm grasp of the characters before they carry out the dangerous mission in Laos.

There's more heart and emotion to Uncommon Valor than expected, and these qualities anchor the narrative - it's the most believable Vietnam POW/MIA movie from the 1980s. Aside from Rhodes being haunted by the absence of his son, it's also effective to see how the men are impacted by returning to military life after a decade of living as a civilian. A minor box office success in 1983, Uncommon Valor rapidly faded into obscurity, and is only remembered by avid genre fans. Those who enjoy this brand of macho '80s action film will get the most out of Uncommon Valor, as it's supremely entertaining, but everybody else need not apply.

7.2/10