Reviews by PvtCaboose91

By serving as an origin story for Marvel's God of Thunder, Thor denotes the next step in Marvel's superhero world-building effort leading up to 2012's The Avengers. Admittedly, the outlook for Thor was never overwhelmingly positive - the title role was given to little-known Aussie beefcake Chris Hemsworth (a soap star glimpsed oh-so-briefly in 2009's Star Trek), and the director's chair was allotted to Kenneth Branagh, who had never been near a big-budget spectacle in his career. Nonetheless, the film denotes another home run for Marvel - it's easily one of the best, if not the best Marvel feature to date. Hemsworth is truly an excellent find, while Branagh's directorial dexterity belies his inexperience with action extravaganzas. The first of four superhero movies to arrive during the 2011 summer season, Thor is a highly entertaining, assured masterpiece which kicks things off in style.

Following an ancient war, the denizens of Asgard develop a tentative peace with the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. However, on the day of Thor's (Hemsworth) ascension to the throne of Asgard, a group of Frost Giants breach Asgard's defences. In response to this, the hot-headed Thor mounts an assault on the home-world of the Frost Giants; an act which threatens war between the two realms. Due to his disobedience, Thor's father Odin (Hopkins) banishes Thor to Earth, leaving Thor's brother Loki (Hiddleston) to seize power of Asgard. After being dropped into New Mexico, Thor meets astrophysicist Jane Foster (Portman) and her colleagues. Stripped of his powers, his hammer and everything he holds dear, Thor is compelled to learn what it takes to be a true hero in order to reclaim his hammer and the throne of Asgard.

From the epic prologue to the climactic action sequences, Thor is brimming with excitement and solid, confident storytelling. The fanboys concerned that this is a Thor film in name only can rest easy - this is ultimately a story about what's at stake in Asgard. The uninitiated can also rest easy, as there's enough leeway for the newcomers to find their footing. What's most commendable about Thor is that it is not a proverbial origins tale which adheres to the standard template, but instead something fresher and more imaginative. Origin tale clichés are usually eschewed, while the rare conventional situations fulfil their purpose magnificently rather than feeling familiar and cringe-worthy. (Take, for instance, the "hero is thought to be dead but comes back with a vengeance" scene - it was handled exceptionally well, yielding a badass set-piece). When Thor arrives on Earth, there are amusing moments and comical fish-out-of-water antics as the God of Thunder adjusts to life as a mortal in a different culture. The culture clashes generate some of the film's best moments. Thankfully, the smart script does not dwell upon these comic moments, nor does it take Thor as a fool - he "gets it" quickly.

Thor transpires in three worlds: Earth, Asgard and Jotunheim, each of which possesses a unique aesthetic and identity. Fortunately, Branagh and his crew worked to create worlds that look and feel real, and it paid off. All of the more fantastical moments throughout the film are perfectly grounded; ensuring that nothing feels silly or bloated. Furthermore, Thor is a home run in terms of technical achievements, from the luscious production design to the bravura visual effects to Patrick Doyle's immersive score. The action, too, is magnificent. An exhilarating, pulse-pounding sequence depicting a skirmish between Thor's band of friends and a bunch of Frost Giants has got to be in the running for best action sequence of 2011. Rather than feeling like CGI overload, Thor is imbued with nail-biting tension. Happily, this quality is retained throughout. Branagh is also of a more classical brand of filmmakers; he and his crew captured the action with inventive, fluid cinematography, without excessive shaky-cam or quick-cutting. Unfortunately, however, the 3-D effects add absolutely nothing to the experience - in fact, they're more of a distraction than an enhancement.

The strongest moments of Thor are not necessarily the big special effects sequences, but rather the dramatic scenes. The dialogue between Thor, Loki and Odin crackles with emotion and intensity, and the sincerity which pervades these scenes allows us to buy this world as being real. Also, the romantic subplot concerning Thor and Jane possesses a spark and a dynamic which places it light-years ahead of standard contemporary romantic comedies. These particular strengths are no doubt thanks to the exceptional Kenneth Branagh, whose career in Shakespearean tales and dramas prepared him well for the film's dramatic elements. Furthermore, Thor takes a number of unexpected twists and turns; focusing more on suspense and clever narrative gyrations than CGI blotation.

The cast is marvellous from top to bottom. Thanks to Branagh's experience with drama, he was able to bring out the best in each actor. Hemsworth is hugely engaging and charismatic as the titular Thor. His astonishing physicality suits the role to the ground, and he delivered his lines with tremendous gusto. The former Aussie soap star is no doubt on his way to true stardom. Alongside Hemsworth, the reliable Anthony Hopkins is, of course, a scene-stealer as Odin, while Tom Hiddleston's performance as the conflicted, ambiguous Loki is flawless. Natalie Portman admirably performs her duties as the token love interest, and she is boosted by solid back-up courtesy of the funny, cute Kat Dennings and the kindly, wise Stellan Skarsgård. Jeremy Renner also appears briefly as Hawkeye. Renner's brief inclusion just amounts to a sly nod to the upcoming Avengers movie for the more perceptive film-goers, but his presence makes sense rather than feeling forced. In fact, this applies to all of the references to other Marvel movies - they feel organic, rather than included for the sheer sake of it.

In an era of summer blockbusters of declining quality, Thor is a refreshing treat indeed. Mere movie-goers can rejoice that this is a masterpiece of blockbuster filmmaking, while fans should rejoice that this is both a great standalone movie and a terrific bridge to The Avengers. The trailers for Thor were admittedly not overly impressive, but this is a real case of the trailer not doing the film justice. Trust me - this is a masterpiece; it's better than Iron Man, better than Spider-Man 2, and it's worthy of both your time and money. And, as usual, stick around until after the end credits for an extra scene.

9.3/10

Veteran director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson re-energised the horror landscape in 1996 with Scream, a thrilling and hilarious postmodernist commentary on slasher films featuring cinema-savvy characters who wind up in a real-life slasher. After a robust sequel and a disappointing threequel, 2011's Scream 4 (or SCRE4M) continues the franchise in style. Benefitting from a whip-smart screenplay credited to Williamson (who returns to the fold after sitting out Scream 3), Scream 4 is as much a reinvention of the once again worn-out slasher subgenre as the original Scream was in the late 1990s. With the horror genre entering a new phase in the 21st Century, and with both culture and technology having further developed since Scream 3 in the year 2000, Scream 4 has a metric fuckload of new tropes and clichés to deconstruct. Despite a few missteps, this fourth Scream film marvellously juggles humour and thrills without either tone lessening or overwhelming the other.

Hoping to heal and leave behind the trauma of her past, Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) writes a self-help memoir. Meanwhile, the Stab movie series (inspired by the "real-life" events of the previous films) remains popular, with the franchise up to its seventh instalment. As the anniversary of the original Woodsboro murders draws close, Sidney returns to her hometown to promote her book with her publicist, Rebecca (Alison Brie). Unfortunately, a new Ghostface killer chooses to emerge at this time, picking off the local teenage population in a grizzly fashion. This time, the Ghostface killer ostensibly targets Sidney's remaining family and friends, including the friends of Sidney's adolescent cousin, Jill (Emma Roberts). Also back in action is Sheriff Dewey Riley (David Arquette), now the husband of reporter-cum-author Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox). While Dewey works alongside Deputy Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton) to catch the killer, Gale decides to investigate the murders herself.

The first Scream set its satirical sights on scary movies and slashers, Scream 2 took a self-aware jab at sequels, and Scream 3 offered a few meta ideas on film trilogies. Although Scream 4 carries a numerical appendage, it targets Hollywood's most significant horror trend of the past decade: remakes and reboots. With the murders occurring in Woodsboro again and the Ghostface killer targeting a new crop of teens, the characters recognise that a real-life "remake" of the first film is happening. Liberally reusing the familiar Scream formula may seem lazy, but the shrewd execution of the film's whodunit elements combined with the cunning satire ensures the familiarity is not detrimental, and the film keeps us guessing who the killer/s is/are. Employing the same formula is also a splendid way to poke fun at the horror franchises that always recycle the same tiresome formula ad infinitum. In addition, Williamson's script mocks the never-ending stream of torture porn horror flicks that flooded multiplexes after the success of 2004's Saw. Indeed, Scream 4 has its finger on the pulse of modern filmmaking and technological trends, primarily commenting on the rise of social media and the insatiable obsession with internet fame while also incorporating online live-streaming and screenings of cult movies for rabid fans. The film even respectfully tips its hat to Edgar Wright's masterful 2004 gem Shaun of the Dead.

The Scream series is renowned for thrilling, clever opening sequences, and Scream 4 announces its arrival via a brilliantly conceived opening that knowingly mocks another recognisable genre trope. It is a masterful opening that works on multiple levels and immediately promises that the Scream series will continue indulging in postmodernist fun at the expense of contemporary horror clichés. However, the opening half an hour or so following the opening is genuinely lousy, playing out like subpar fanfiction with moments of poor, forced character interaction. Thankfully, things pick up once the killing spree truly kicks off, and the film scarcely sets a foot wrong as it delivers engaging storytelling and thrilling set pieces. Another reason for the enduring popularity of the Scream series is that it mixes satirical humour with genuine thrills and chills. In this sense, Scream 4 delivers once again.

Confidently recovering after 2010's severely panned and bafflingly incoherent My Soul to Take, Craven shows with Scream 4 that he can still shock and thrill despite being in his 70s. Scream 4 is not quite as ferocious as the first film, but Craven pulls no punches - this is an unapologetically R-rated slasher with ridiculous amounts of blood and gore, delivering the type of material that genre fans crave. The attack scenes are vicious and visceral, ensuring audiences feel that, despite the laughs, the characters are still in genuine danger. Scream 4 also brings back franchise mainstay Marco Beltrami to compose the soundtrack, and the resulting original score adds appreciable intensity and excitement. However, despite the competent set pieces, the film lacks genuine moments of skin-crawling, goosebump-provoking terror like the original film's opening with Drew Barrymore, which had movie-watchers gripping onto armrests for dear life. Nevertheless, this is a minor quibble - for the most part, Scream 4 succeeds as a fun thrill ride, especially for the franchise's long-time fans.

The returning trio of Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox and David Arquette effortlessly slip back into their characters after a decade-long absence, recapturing the same verve, zeal and charm. Instead of surface-level imitations, the actors authentically embody their iconic roles, making it feel like no time has passed. The only other franchise mainstay who returns here is Roger L. Jackson, who voices Ghostface. Jackson continues to bring genuine menace and terror to these scenes, making his inclusion feel meaningful instead of tokenistic. Fortunately, the new cast is equally successful, and each character is distinctive in terms of characteristics, personality and appearance. Of the females, Emma Roberts (future American Horror Story mainstay) and Hayden Panettiere stand out the most as Jill and her friend, Kirby. Jill is essentially the new Sidney, and Roberts is up to the task - she is beautiful and vulnerable, but there's also an edge to her performance. Alongside her, Panettiere emanates cool with ease, creating what would become a fan-favourite character. Also of note are Rory Culkin and Erik Knudsen as the film geeks of the picture, Charlie and Robbie, who run Woodsboro High's cinema club. With the pair doling out most of the meta commentary on remakes and sequels, they are the de facto replacement for fan-favourite Randy, who was murdered in Scream 2 but fleetingly returned in Scream 3 for a video lecture. Anthony Anderson also deserves a special mention. The first time that a main cast member from the Scary Movie series has crossed over to the Scream franchise (what a full-circle moment), Anderson is his usual goofy, affable self.

With Scream 3 deservedly regarded as an underwhelming disappointment, beholding such an entertaining and confident fourthquel is encouraging. Despite its prolonged development period and the behind-the-scenes dramas (Scream 3 scribe Ehren Kruger did uncredited rewrites during production, leading to reshoots), Scream 4 is the best slasher in at least a decade. Although the hit-and-miss quality of Noughties slasher films renders this a backhanded compliment, Scream 4 is a terrific slasher by any metric. Despite the obvious financial motivation to revive the franchise, Williamson and Craven manage to deliver a fresh, intelligent, funny horror film that should please established fans and introduce the slasher genre to a whole new generation of film-goers. Despite Craven passing away in 2015, the Scream franchise continued to live on through a television show and further sequels.

7.4/10

With a title like Hobo with a Shotgun, surely you can easily ascertain everything you need to know about this motion picture. By no means is it an art movie, nor is it a date flick unless your date is a sick-minded gore-monger - Hobo with a Shotgun is a gleefully crazy blast of exploitative fun with the go-for-broke lunacy of your typical Troma picture. And if it sounds like it is the perfect filmic complement for the likes of Machete and Planet Terror, there is a good reason for this - the picture was born out of a faux trailer which won a fake trailer contest that was held to promote the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino double bill Grindhouse in 2007. For the easily offended, Hobo with a Shotgun is a film to miss. But for the viewers who "get" this type of flick, Hobo with a Shotgun is a welcome buckshot of grindhouse-style insanity. This is a flick destined to tickle the pleasure centres of those who grew up sifting through the most bizarre, offensive-looking VHS boxes at their local video store.

As the film commences, the grizzled titular Hobo (Hauer) hops off a fright train with the intention of finding a new home and earning money by starting a lawnmower business. However, his chosen town is a scummy hellhole of sadists and whackjobs which is ruled with an iron fist by crime lord Drake (Downey). Drake and his ghouls own the town and the police force, leaving the Hobo disgusted and aching for change. In the shoot-'em-up tradition of Death Wish and Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name westerns, the Hobo starts dispensing justice throughout the town with his shotgun; punishing criminals quickly and violently. A newspaper headline even screams "HOBO STOPS BEGGING, DEMANDS CHANGE". During his quest he also befriends Abby (Dunsworth), a hooker with a heart of hold who provides the human contact he's been craving.

Running at approximately 85 minutes, Hobo with a Shotgun never slows down to the point where the story is tedious or boring. The pacing was well-judged by director/editor Jason Eisener, to the point that the film never lulls but doesn't feel underdone either. The Hobo and his plight are efficiently established within the first act, which allows Eisener the freedom to begin filling the screen with gory imagery of hyperbolic proportions. Morality is swiftly disregarded, but there's fun to be had for those willing to take a trip into this gleefully hedonistic world. Bodies are blown apart, heads are blown off, people are decapitated, wedding tackles are shredded with buckshots, and so on. Interestingly, while Hobo with a Shotgun is replete with sadistic sequences to ward off the easily offended, there is witty dialogue throughout the film in addition to unexpected sentiment and a few smart yet bizarre monologues delivered by the Hobo. Plus, the purposely bad dialogue is hilarious. Unfortunately, the sole flaw of Hobo with a Shotgun is that it only triggers a giddy impression in places. Too often, a metric fuckload of viscera is thrown all over the place, generating a disturbing feeling of sadism as opposed to an aura of schlocky merriment. When the film works, it works. When it fails, however, the film is uncomfortable and borderline agonising.

Eisener evidently grew up watching the low-budget exploitation movies of the '70s and '80s, and consequently replicated the old-school cinematic style with an impressive attention to detail. An opening credits sequence straight out of the '70s prefaces Hobo with a Shotgun, with a copyright date under the title and a Technicolor credit. Eisener and cinematographer Karim Hussain shot the film in vivid Technicolor, meaning the flesh tones appear almost orange and the geysers of blood are deep red. The histrionic, occasionally shoddy camera angles further solidify the aesthetic. Indeed, with these techniques in place, Hobo with a Shotgun possesses the look of a picture which has been sitting in a vault for 30 years. Heck, even the musical score is spot-on. See, Eisener opted for a different type of grindhouse aesthetic - while Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino used scratched prints and missing frames for their throwback films, Eisener chose over-the-top camera angles and a retro colour palette, which affords Hobo with a Shotgun with a sense of freshness.

Of course, the key to pulling off a film like Hobo with a Shotgun is playing it with a straight face. Luckily, Rutger Hauer was recruited to play the titular Hobo, and the iconic veteran actor was up to the challenge. Hauer is simply excellent, and not just by action film standards - in fact, Hauer is more nuanced than all the cast members of Inception combined! Hauer shows in his performance that he knows what the joke is but he also knows not to let it show - he never winks at the audience, but he is not clueless; he gets it. Alongside Hauer is the gorgeous Molly Dunsworth, who submitted one hell of a performance as the kind-hearted Abby. Naturally, a film of this type needs colourful, over-the-top villains. Fortunately, as the bad guys, Brian Downey, Nick Bateman and Gregory Smith were all up to the task. The majority of the performances here are loud, clunky, obvious and exaggerated. Are these good actors pretending to be bad for the sake of the aesthetic, or are they just bad? It's a testament to the film's success that the answer to this is not obvious, and it doesn't matter either way.

In final analysis, Hobo with a Shotgun has more going for it than not. When it's not uncomfortable to watch, the film is a hoot. These days, genre fans have become accustomed to seeing studio action films getting neutered to service a large audience. Meanwhile, 2011's Hobo with a Shotgun is exploitative trash cinema through and through which gives fans exactly what they crave with none of the restraint. That is something which does not happen often. Here's hoping Jason Eisener and writer John Davies will add a few more bloody classics to the trash cinema genre in future years.

7.3/10

For those who are familiar with the controversies surrounding the MPAA, this exposé will not offer much in the way of surprising revelations. On the other hand, for those who naively believe that the MPAA are valuable public servants providing a useful helping hand to filmmakers and parents, This Film Is Not Yet Rated will shock you. Over the duration of 90 entertaining minutes, documentarian Kirby Dick delves into the hypocrisy of the MPAA in addition to providing insight into the arbitrary, secretive ratings process. Another of Dick's goals was to uncover the secret identities of the ratings board members. In order to achieve this, he employed a trio of private detectives. Thus, the film often follows Kirby and the private detectives as they go on stakeouts, follow cars, and rummage through trash cans. However, the film's weakest moments are those concerned with providing background about the detectives. Their overinflated presence dilutes the focus of Dick's thesis.

Thankfully, This Film Is Not Yet Rated was assembled in a skilful, entertaining manner. Kirby cuts between statistics on the MPAA, interviews with filmmakers, and footage from offending movies which received an NC-17 rating. Several directors like Kevin Smith, John Waters, Matt Stone, Kimberly Peirce and Wayne Kramer provide testimonials throughout, and express concerns that the ratings board constrains and censors them. An especially interesting point which is raised is that realistic sexuality and violence usually earns an R or NC-17 rating, whereas unrealistic (i.e. bloodless) violence is given a docile rating to allow for more of the public to see. Former MPAA ratings board members and other distinguished individuals are also interviewed throughout. On top of this, there is a particularly effective sequence showing a side-by-side comparison of sexual sequences removed from indie pictures (in order to obtain an R rating) contrasted against almost identical footage from R-rated studio releases which made it into the final cut.

As it turns out, not all of the ratings board members of 2006 are average American parents with teenage children. The majority of them are in fact older Americans whose offspring are in their 20s. Also, since the members were selected from a small geographical region in South California, one cannot consider them to represent an accurate cross-section of the country. It also begs the question of who does represent the "average American parent". Essentially, the MPAA are a bunch of anonymous individuals whose cynical judgments impact how motion pictures are created, marketed and distributed. Not to mention, their judgments affect box office performances. Am I the only one who finds this notion disturbing and scary? Without a doubt, This Film Is Not Yet Rated affirms that the MPAA system needs a complete overhaul.

To the credit of Kirby Dick, This Film Is Not Yet Rated is not a mere angry diatribe against the MPAA, but instead a thoughtful documentary which raises legitimate questions about the ratings process. Of course, it will be interesting to see whether the movie will cause the organisation to take a look at its policies, realise the problems, and revise their modus operandi. Perhaps the death of Jack Valenti will eventually allow for a revision of the system.

8.2/10

2010 developed into yet another defining year for filmmaker M. Night Shyamalan, whose fan-base continued to decline and whose reputation was further sullied. On top of the fact that his monster-budgeted Hollywood adaptation of Avatar: The Last Airbender was greeted with immense derision from both critics and movie-goers, Shyamalan's Devil was also subjected to ridicule throughout its marketing campaign (reports even spread of theatre-goers laughing and booing at the trailer). Even so, Shyamalan did not write or direct the film - he instead conceived the story and served as producer. Nevertheless, Devil is the first of a proposed series of genre films called The Night Chronicles, all of which are to be based on Shyamalan's ideas. If this first entry is intended to be the quality yardstick, it's difficult to remain optimistic about the future of The Night Chronicles. With that said, though, Devil - which is inspired by a parable about Satan walking among sinners on Earth - is at least slick and engaging on a basic level despite the empty-headed script.

The proceedings take place in a Philadelphia high-rise, where five apparent strangers - an elderly pick-pocket (O'Hara), a temp security guard (Woodbine), a mechanic (Marshall-Green), a sharply-dressed young woman (Novakovic), and a shady mattress salesman (Arend) - become stranded in an inoperative elevator. The group gradually grow uneasy of each other, however, especially when they start getting mysteriously killed one-by-one. On the outside, a couple of security guards monitor the happenings within the elevator and attempt to help them get out. These security guards are eventually joined by a recovering alcoholic detective (Messina). As the tensions within the elevator continue to grow, logical explanations begin to dwindle and the characters gradually come to the realisation that the Devil may be along for the ride, and that the sinners aboard the elevator are meant to pay for past transgressions.

If Alfred Hitchcock was handling the premise behind Devil, it could have been a tightly-wound, enthralling, pulse-pounding suspense movie (consider Hitchcock's Lifeboat; an excellent film with a somewhat comparable plot). Unfortunately, Hitchcock has passed on, and the crew who brought Devil to fruition are not nearly as adept. Shyamalan handed the writing and directing duties to Brian Nelson (Hard Candy) and John Erick Dowdle (Quarantine) respectively, but Shyamalan's unwelcome fingerprints are nonetheless all over the crime scene. Alas, Devil denotes yet another shameful, mawkish retread of Shyamalan's favourite messages and themes regarding fate (Signs), destiny (Unbreakable) and how all of us are connected (Lady in the Water). Added to this are several Shyamalan trademarks: quirky characters with dark secrets, a twist ending with an overinflated reveal, quasi-religious themes slathered in hackneyed genre conventions and clumsy dialogue, etc. What's even worse is the abysmal ending, which transforms what could've been an effective chiller into something preachy, eye-rolling and painfully clichéd.

Added to this, Devil is plagued by a laundry list of awkward devices. For instance, rather than the characters figuring out the Devil is among them through clues, storytelling and clever dialogue, the tired racial stereotype emerges in the form of a solemn, devoutly religious Latino security guard who straight-up declares they are dealing with Satan. The guy clearly knows everything about the Devil and his modus operandi, and therefore he jabbers about it incessantly. He is even given a largely unnecessary voiceover narration. At times it sets the stage and introduces some of the film's underlying concepts, but too often the commentary is akin to watching a movie with an obnoxious guy who likes to spoil the story and predict things out loud. Furthermore, a number of questions entered this reviewer's head throughout the film. For example, why would the Prince of Darkness imprint his visage on a surveillance camera for the security team to see? Why is the Devil so bored that he wants to kill off two-bit sinners with over-the-top theatrics? Not to mention, it seems silly that Satan is killing unrepented sinners before they have had the chance to repent.

Credit where credit is due, though - Devil sort of works from a technical perspective. Dowdle is a decent director with a skill for building tension and establishing an apprehensive atmosphere. Complementing his efforts are the contributions of composer Fernando Velázquez and director of photography Tak Fujimoto. Running at a scant 80 minutes, Devil also benefits from its brevity and a perfectly judged pace. Furthermore, there is something inherent intriguing and engaging about watching a group of people caught in such a situation, and it is fun seeing where the narrative takes them. On top of this, there are a few phantom shots of the skyline throughout which suggest the malevolence at work is more considerable than elevator murders. The character deaths are astonishingly grim as well, and almost always violent - this is a rare case of a PG-13 slasher for which the docile rating is not a hindrance. Admittedly, too, Devil is a somewhat exciting game of guessing which person is Satan. The acting, for the most part, is quite good and surprisingly believable as well.

Unfortunately, while Devil is not completely sans merit, the fact that we know about Satan's involvement from the outset strips the movie of intrigue and mystery. We know from the beginning that each character is going to be a flawed lost soul, and that one of them is going to be the Prince of Darkness in human disguise. Also detrimental is that Devil is not exactly scary. It's intense, sure, but the picture is more of an Agatha Christie-style mystery than a horror movie.

5.0/10

Emerging from the imagination of filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan is a psychological thriller pervaded with insanity and madness which is juxtaposed with the graceful, gilded world of professional ballet. Unfolding with palpable intensity and nightmarish logic, the movie denotes the continuation of Aronofsky's study into the resilience of the human body which was kicked off by his stunning 2008 picture The Wrestler. Additionally, just as The Wrestler was primarily a character study, Black Swan is a competitive ballet tale on the surface only, as Aronofsky instead exhibits more interest in exploring the corrosion of reality than the everyday routine of a ballet dancer. Originally, Aronofsky planned for Black Swan and The Wrestler to be one film. Because of this, Aronofsky considers Black Swan to be a companion piece to his earlier flick.

At the centre of the film is young, passionate ballet dancer Nina (Portman). Raised by her mother to be a ballet star, Nina is virtually flawless in her technique, but this comes at the expense of raw emotion and passion. Ballet director Thomas (Cassel) begins sensing a burgeoning fire within Nina's porcelain shell, though, and decides to give her the lead role in the company's upcoming production of Swan Lake. Startled by the decision, Nina begins a punishing rehearsal regime in order for her to nail the role's complicated duality. See, the part requires somebody who can dance both the White Swan and her evil twin, the Black Swan. While Nina can ably execute the White Swan, she lacks the passion required to pull off the Black Swan. Adding to the pressure is Lily (Kunis), a fresh new dancer whom Nina is convinced is trying to steal her role. As opening night draws near, Nina's mental state progressively unhinges - she becomes constantly plagued by macabre hallucinations, and continually grows more and more like the Black Swan she's meant to be playing.

Like The Wrestler, Black Swan takes place in the competitive, insular world of a particular performance art. Interestingly, while one may not associate ballet with blood sports due to its gracefulness, Aronofsky's perspective argues that dancing in fact may not be too far removed from fighting. In addition to this, Aronofsky opted for similar stylistic traits in both pictures, including raw, handheld camerawork and recurring shots of the camera tracking behind the protagonist as they move through various spaces. However, unlike The Wrestler, Black Swan is a significantly ambiguous and subjective movie - Aronofsky continually blurs the line between reality and Nina's tormented psychological experience. With the narrative always growing in abstraction the further it presses on, it becomes difficult to distinguish reality from mind games. Aronofsky toys with this confusion to the extent that what might be considered a plot hole instead comes off as another piece of the deceptive puzzle.

The look and feel of Black Swan immaculately encapsulates the essence of a major New York ballet production, denoting another great success for the infinitely talented Aronofsky. Throughout the movie, an unsettling, creepy atmosphere pervades the proceedings, at first subtly and later with brutal vigour. By the final third of the movie, grim surrealism has taken control, leading to an enthralling conclusion that's haunting and unforgettably unique. Even so, there is the sense that Aronofsky and his trio of screenwriters could have pushed things even further, but this is mere nitpicking. Further enriching the picture is Clint Mansell's Tchaikovsky-fuelled musical score and the dreamlike, exquisitely detailed art direction courtesy of David Stein. Not to mention, the numerous dance sequences which litter the movie are absolutely stunning. From a technical perspective, the only drawback of Black Swan is a few notably obvious uses of digital effects.

Natalie Portman earned an Oscar for Best Actress for her performance as Nina. Portman was clearly committed to the role 100%; offering an exceptional, visceral performance that affects the actress down to her bones. Playing Nina required depth of emotion, and Portman's portrayal never strikes a wrong chord. She suits the role physically, as well - for months prior to production, Portman endured a gruelling training routine to lose fat and gain muscle tone, and the outstanding results are on the screen for all to see. And as Lily, Mila Kunis is every bit as excellent as Portman; exhibiting the capacity to play more than featherweight roles in comedies and light dramas. In all likelihood, Black Swan is destined to be the most inappropriately watched and purchased art house film since Mulholland Drive on account of a number of erotic sequences involving Portman and Kunis. Meanwhile, in the supporting role of Thomas, Vincent Cassel perfectly embodies the tough, unsentimental ballet director, adding a dash of darkness and edginess to his roguishly charming personality. Credit is also due to Winona Ryder, who's truly chilling in the scenes when she's given the chance to shine.

Yet, while Black Swan deserves credit for depicting an extreme case of a psychotic breakdown and painting a picture of the struggle of the creative process, Aronofsky's treatment of the film is more stylish and sensational than emotionally wrenching. Despite Portman's best efforts, the film lacks an emotional core. Nina is committed to dancing, but who is she and what is left to save? Unlike Randy the Ram (from The Wrestler) or Sara Goldfarb (from Requiem for a Dream), Nina's journey remains distant, as if it's happening to a stranger. It is always sad to hear about a terrible ordeal which befalls a stranger, but it's even sadder to those who knew the victim. Mind-fuck films are often like this; investing more in intellectual intrigue than emotional fulfilment. Therefore, Black Swan may be more ambitious than The Wrestler, but one could easily contest that Aronofsky's 2008 picture is more satisfying.

All things considered, Black Swan is a beautifully-crafted picture filled with strong performances, an eye for the art of ballet, and a haunting uncertainty that will stay with you long after the credits have expired. Nevertheless, it fails to grab hold on the emotional level that resonated so strongly in Aronofsky's The Wrestler and Requiem for a Dream.

7.9/10

In 2010, Clint Eastwood reached the ripe old age of 80, yet the prolific filmmaker still unabatedly continues to make motion pictures on a regular basis; accumulating a cinematic oeuvre that is as diverse as it is excellent. Written by Peter Morgan (The Queen, Frost/Nixon), 2010's Hereafter is a supernatural drama which re-teams Eastwood with Invictus star Matt Damon. In typical Eastwood style, the director has fashioned a classy, low-key rumination on mysteries surrounding the afterlife. Eschewing a grand-scale approach, Eastwood adhered to his habitual filmmaking methods: unfinicky camera tricks, gentle scoring, and introspective performances. Viewers accustomed to The Ghost Whisperer or Stephen King novels may be annoyed by the absence of zeal, but those with an open mind or those keyed into Eastwood's previous efforts may be willing to sit back and watch as the filmmaker realises his own vision. While the results are admittedly mixed, there's enough bravura workmanship on offer within Hereafter to make it worth at least a hesitant recommendation.

Babel-esque in plot structure, Hereafter tells the story of three strangers, each of whom live in a different country but are connected by their desire to find solace while confronting questions about mortality. In San Francisco, retired psychic George Lonegan (Damon) is forever weary of the attention that his gift brings him. His opportunistic brother (Mohr) pushes for George to profit off his exceptional abilities, but George craves a peaceful life and gets a factory job. However, he cannot seem to escape his reputation. Meanwhile, French journalist Marie Lelay (De France) endures a near-death experience in Thailand where she was swept away during the Boxing Day 2004 tsunami. Back home in France, Marie cannot put her life back together and is haunted by visions which compel her to begin writing a book. And finally, in London, young Marcus (Frankie McLaren) is devastated when his twin brother Jason (George McLaren) is hit by a car and killed. Placed in a foster home while his grieving, drug-addled mother (Marshal) seeks help, Marcus is faced with questions about the afterlife that cannot be answered via religion or fraudulent psychics.

Hereafter is moving and usually enthralling yet restrained, much like what we have come to expect from a Clint Eastwood feature. The picture touches upon grief, hope and spirituality, but thankfully does not get overly preachy or mawkish about it. In lesser hands, Hereafter could have easily become cheesy and cheaply manipulative, but Eastwood's minimalist approach keeps things in check. This feat is all the more commendable given that Damon's character feels as if he walked straight out of a Stephen King story. However, there is a large flaw with the structure of the film: two of the three stories are less interesting than the third. In this case, George's story is more interesting than the events which befall Marie and Marcus, creating an imbalance. It's therefore somewhat annoying every time George's story is paused in order for the focus to shift to somebody else.

Unfortunately, the repetitious way with which Hereafter's narrative is told grows problematic. None of the stories achieve the vitality or development that they required in order to reach full dramatic liftoff. Instead, it feels as if there is too much repetitious, superfluous narrative flab. Several unimportant scenes could have easily been excised in favour of stronger scenes which could have given each story the aforementioned vitality and development they sorely needed. Also, the characters are not entirely three-dimensional, and their respective journeys barely scratch the surface of the themes that Morgan and Eastwood evidently wanted to meditate over. Hereafter depicts characters as they grapple with profound, life-changing events, but the film itself fails to be as profound as it had the potential to be - rather, it merely remains an elementary study of three individuals confronting universal issues and mysteries. Perhaps this is due to Eastwood's choice to shoot what was essentially Peter Morgan’s first script draft.

Despite Morgan's pages needing a thorough polish, Eastwood handled the material with his typical assuredness. Hereafter begins with a frightening bang; a recreation of the tsunami which ravaged the Indonesian coast on Boxing Day in 2004. Top-notch visual effects work (which earned the film its sole Oscar nomination) and a refusal to treat it like a Roland Emmerich disaster spectacle make this a startling, harrowing set-piece which hammers home the point of how unpredictable the world can be. Apart from this opening sequence, Hereafter possesses an appealingly understated style. Although hired relatively late in the film's development stage (unlike most of his pictures), Eastwood's stylistic stamp is all over the film. Besides directing, Eastwood also contributed to the film's gentle score, which is effective as well. Eastwood's work was also assisted by Tom Stern's magnificent, moody cinematography.

As George Lonegan, Damon's performance is nicely restrained and imbued with humanity. It is not exactly an Oscar-worthy performance like his turn in Invictus, but Damon's efforts are nonetheless effective. Meanwhile, as Marie, Cécile De France is excellent (and is anyone else relieved to see a Westernised film with French characters who actually speak French in their homeland?). The actresses' greatest talent is making all of her actions and lines believable. At the other end of the spectrum, however, Frankie and George McLaren have great, expressive faces but are dreadful child actors. Perhaps the boys will improve with experience, but their acting is uneven - for each genuine moment there are two or three moments which come off as stilted or contrived. Rounding out the cast is Bryce Dallas Howard as George's cooking partner Melanie. Howard is in and out of the film too fast, but her scenes with Damon constitute Hereafter's strongest and most absorbing moments. Not to mention, her almost entirely unspoken past and the brutally abrupt outcome of her relationship with George allows the character to linger in a viewer's mind for the duration of the picture.

In a way it is rather extraordinary to consider that a "man's man" like Eastwood could craft such a tender motion picture. After all, he is best known for such brutal characters as Dirty Harry and The Man with No Name. Yet, as Eastwood's films over the years have proved, the director is able to handle any type of unpredictable material with a consummate skill that most Hollywood directors lack. It's just unfortunate that Peter Morgan's script was not given a few more revisions - there is a lot of untapped potential here, and it's disappointing if one considers what the film could have been if Eastwood was handling a fifteenth or sixteenth script draft.

6.8/10

Collateral was released in the summer of 2004, emerging amidst an onslaught of big-budget, special effects-laden blockbusters. Yet, Collateral does not adhere to the standard summer season template - rather than a brain-dead action fiesta for the mainstream crowd, it's a challenging thriller for mature audiences, puppeteered by the boundlessly talented Michael Mann (Heat, Ali). As was the case with Heat, Collateral exhibits a sense of stark realism rarely witnessed in ordinary Hollywood productions. The film is escapist entertainment at its core, but Mann perpetually insists upon plausible scenarios and a gritty tone to ensure the film never drifts too far into the realm of fantasy. Most commendably, Collateral is a summer picture that eschews big explosions and gunfights for suspense, intrigue, plot twists, and an understated cinematic style.

Working the streets of downtown Los Angeles at night with his taxi, Max (Jamie Foxx) is a soft-spoken man with big ambitions tragically stuck in his dead-end job. After meeting beautiful U.S. Justice Department prosecutor Annie (Jada Pinkett-Smith) during his shift one night, a mysterious fare enters Max's cab in the form of Vincent (Tom Cruise). Vincent explains he has five appointments to attend and a plane to catch in the morning, and offers Max $600 cash if he agrees to be Vincent's personal chauffeur for the night. Seeing this as an opportunity to jump-start his dreams, Max hesitantly agrees. Shortly afterwards, it is revealed that Vincent is, in fact, a contract killer travelling around the city to put several targets on ice. Max is unwittingly pulled into Vincent's world of systematic murdering for this single night, leaving the frightened cabbie with no means of escape.

The narrative is not particularly groundbreaking, and it's predictable to a certain degree, but Stuart Beattie's clever script and Mann's sharp-eyed direction compensate for this. Collateral is not a surface-level flick - there are intelligent layers and nuances to both the story and the characters, which take multiple viewings to pick up. For example, it's initially unclear why Vincent wants Max as his chauffer, but character interaction reveals he is just looking for someone to frame - in one scene, Detective Fanning (Mark Ruffalo) tells his colleagues a story about a cabbie who supposedly killed three people before committing suicide, implying that this is Vincent's plan for Max. On top of this, exploring real ideas and themes is also on Mann and Beattie's agenda. For instance, Vincent ruminates on his personal philosophies about the world and on the insignificance of a single human being. Similarly, Max aspires to start his own limousine company and insists his taxi job is temporary despite being a driver for twelve years, and this relates to the way people realise that their lifelong dreams are slipping out of their grasp through cruel passages of time and inertia. Indeed, Collateral is far more than an excuse for exploitative violence in the name of entertainment.

Of all his directorial characteristics, Mann is perhaps best known for his attention to detail - he makes environments into characters and stages down-to-earth gunfights that are not glamorised but instead based on realistic scenarios, tactics and training. This remains unchanged for Collateral. Predominantly lensing the picture with digital cameras, Mann and his two cinematographers (one cinematographer quit after three weeks, and a second one took over) permeate the film with an immersive authenticity and neglect the typical Hollywood sheen. Indeed, Mann centres his attention on developing atmosphere, building suspense and manipulating tension. Through using digital photography and as much natural lighting as possible, Mann achieves the verisimilitude he clearly strives for, transforming what could've been a cartoonish blockbuster into a masterfully realistic and gripping action movie. Additionally, the soundtrack mixes pop, rock, jazz, and classical tunes to match the mood of each scene. Michael Mann is the furthest thing from an ordinary action director - he is an expert craftsman, and the result is spellbinding.

Another of Mann's strengths here is pace; he clearly understands the need for humanity and character building without boring viewers to death. It is possible to care about Max's predicament after watching some innately human moments between him and Annie, with these scenes efficiently developing Max as a nuanced three-dimensional human being. The extended scene inside Max's cab that depicts Max and Annie's initial meeting is so expertly conceived, natural and charming that it could easily stand as a short film on its own. Beattie's script is another asset in this sense since it gives the characters some sharp, honest dialogue. Likewise, the interactions between Vincent and Max are never anything less than enthralling, and there are appreciable moments of levity throughout to lighten the mood. Also commendable is the fact that this is a Hollywood production where no characters seem safe, no matter how renowned the actors are. The ending may seem pat and clichéd, but it is pitch-perfect; it's ultimately ironic, it underscores themes introduced throughout (such as Vincent mentioning Darwin's theory of evolution and the need to adapt and improvise), and it brings closure to the character arcs.

Though the script is magnificent and the filmmaking is top-notch, Collateral ultimately works due to the pair of performances courtesy of Foxx and Cruise, both of whom disappear into their roles. Embracing the opportunity to flex his antagonistic muscles, Cruise pulls off the complex requirements of the part to fantastic effect - his performance as Vincent is riveting, career-best work for the actor. Likewise, the usually comically-oriented Foxx delivers a superb, warm, understated performance that earned the star a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination. Both performances also reflect Mann's insistence towards realism - Cruise underwent extensive firearms training and, in turn, demonstrates outstanding pistol-handling skills throughout, while Foxx comes across as a run-of-the-mill everyman. In the supporting role of Annie, Jada Pinkett-Smith is absolute dynamite - she has never been more charming than she is here. Mark Ruffalo, Peter Berg, and Bruce McGill are also highly engaging in the more minor roles of the investigators hot on Vincent's trail.

Whereas most summer movies are action pictures with slight traces of drama and character development, Collateral is an intense, character-oriented drama-thriller with traces of action. And it is directly because of the drama and character development that the movie works so well. Collateral is intelligent, mature and involving, and it is also the best motion picture of 2004, bar none.

10/10

The story, expectedly, is simple and direct. Twenty years have passed since John Rambo (Stallone) saved Colonel Trautman from Soviet forces in Afghanistan, and he now lives the life of a recluse in Thailand, working as a snake catcher while desperately trying to evade his personal demons. As the film opens, a group of idealogical Christian missionaries - including Michael (Paul Schulze) and Sarah (Julie Benz) - approach Rambo seeking passage into the heart of Burma, wishing to bring medical supplies and prayer books to the war-town country. Rambo reluctantly accepts the offer, but is wary of the dangerous terrain. Weeks later, Rambo learns that the missionaries were captured by the Burmese military. Choosing to assume his psychologically tattered soldier mentality and launch into battle once again, Rambo joins a group of mercenaries as they head into Burma on a rescue mission.

Stallone prefaces Rambo with authentic documentary footage depicting the actual situation in Burma, which has endured what is described as the longest-running civil war in history. This horrific footage effectively places the story in a real-world context, emphasising that the atrocities taking place in Burma are real, rather than a part of the screenwriter's imagination. In this sense, Stallone and co-writer Art Monterastelli utilise Burma as a framework within which they constructed a typical but effective action/war movie. Yet, layers of appreciable complexity exist within the simplistic framework which may be easily missed. For instance, the Burmese soldiers appear to be the epitome of one-dimensional evil since they slaughter villagers and gang-rape women, but the opening documentary footage reveals that these soldiers are kidnapped boys who are forced into the army and dehumanised into soulless killing machines.

Ultra high body counts are a staple of the series, and Rambo does not disappoint in this sense. The levels of gore push the R-rating to the very brink, yet the unremitting violence is not as joyously self-indulgent as previous Rambo adventures. See, there's more to Rambo than just carnage. The film builds with a palpable intensity, and the first half depicts Rambo reluctantly working his way back to his former self to confront the life he tried to leave behind. Through depicting the Burma atrocities in explicit detail, the film additionally offers social commentary and sheds light on the realities of life in the country (the film has done more for Burma awareness than the UN). Thus, this entry to the series is more about authenticity and gritty realism, mirroring the tone of First Blood. Rambo is not perfect, of course - it's largely generic (at times painfully so), and the dialogue is derisive on occasion - but the positives outweigh the negatives. There is sufficient character development to create a palpable sense of humanity amid the carnage.

Yet, all of this is probably looking too deeply into what is a taut, expertly crafted shoot-'em-up of pure awesomeness. You attend Rambo movies to watch the titular badass lay waste to hundreds of bad guys, and this fourth instalment offers precisely that. In prior Rambo sequels, Rambo was dropped in some hellhole to rescue a bunch of people before he breaks them out, kills the bad guys and escapes. Rambo '08 stays true to the formula, except - as previously stated - there's more grit: Stallone is never shirtless at any point, and Jerry Goldsmith's exciting yet cheesy music is replaced with Brian Tyler's harrowing, exceptional original score. Rambo even works as a member of a team, as opposed to taking down hundreds of soldiers single-handedly. Up until Rambo, Sly had never directed an action film (outside of allegedly ghost-directing some of his classics), but the actor-director's excellent handling of the material here belies his inexperience. Sly may utilise a shaky-cam approach, yet the style benefits the picture and is at no point distracting. And my word, the picture delivers in terms of action - the final battle is a celluloid tribute to the blood-soaked mayhem of the '80s. For all the criticisms Rambo endured, the violence is deserved: it characterises the villains, and provides the audience with a sweet sense of vengeance. It's a superb, insanely effective macho fantasy, and it will appeal to its target market.

Running over 8 minutes longer than its theatrical predecessor, the extended cut of Rambo is the superior edit in this reviewer's eyes. Rather than concentrating on gory additions or amplifying the theatrical cut's boundary-pushing violence, Stallone digs up alternate footage and deleted dialogue scenes to craft more of an character-oriented war film. Through this, Rambo is closer to reaching its full potential of being a harrowing war drama first and a blood n' guts action film second. Restoring an essential, passionate monologue similar in tone to First Blood's climactic speech, inserting a prayer, and even removing a few violent shots, this Rambo adopts a more philosophical tone. The added footage may slow the picture down a tad, but the result is more thought-provoking and emotionally satisfying. In addition, the characters are fleshed out more effectively, and the film as a whole feels more cohesive and complete. In comparison, the theatrical cut feels gutted. However, Rambo's badass monologue whilst forging his machete is sorely missed.

Returning to his iconic role, Stallone is cold as ice, and brings a sense of menace that is lacking in previous entries. John Rambo is truly scary here; he's a powder keg waiting to explode, and he certainly does explode once the action shifts to the camp where the missionaries are held captive. It's not an Oscar-worthy performance, but it is more nuanced than most will admit. Julie Benz is also effective as one of the missionaries, ably playing alongside Stallone. Rambo jumps through hoops for Sarah, but she is not a love interest - although she is Rambo's prime motivation for battling the Burmese army, it's because she profoundly touched his soul. In the supporting cast there's also the likes of Matthew Marsden and Graham McTavish, both of whom are standouts as mercenaries. Suffice it to say, every actor hits their mark.

Infused with a poignant social commentary to provide sufficient context for the action, Rambo exists to call attention to the atrocities in Burma in addition to providing a fitting end for John J. Rambo. In First Blood, Rambo's breakdown in the film's final minutes left us with the sense that he wanted to discover who he is and put the past behind him. This theme was never brought full circle in the following two sequels, but Rambo '08 does exactly that, providing the ending that fans have yearned for since the commencement of the franchise. One could argue I've read too much into Rambo, but I believe critics are not reading enough. It would be a shame for a viewer's preconceptions to overwhelm Stallone's achievements, which goes for both the cynical critics looking to be critical as well as the action fans seeking a fix. There is a beating heart at the core of Rambo, whether you wish to notice it or not.

8.8/10

In Eclipse, an antagonistic vampire with a grudge against another vampire amasses an army of psychotic vampires to attack the good guys. Meanwhile, a bunch of werewolves team up with the good vampires to fight the evil ones, leading to a total all-out monster-on-monster war. So, why does Eclipse suck? Well, because it's a Twilight movie - the vampires are whiny, angsty, emo-ish brats, the werewolves are bland, buff pretty boys, the romantic leads share no chemistry, and by law it is forbidden for anything interesting to happen. After all, if the stories contained anything interesting, it would stand in the way of what the Twilight franchise is truly about: convincing young girls that true happiness can only be attained through co-dependent submission to emotionally domineering douchebags in the context of traditional marriage. If one eliminates all of the hokey mythology surrounding the vampires and werewolves of author Stephenie Meyer's world, all that's left is an ongoing, angst-ridden hormonal explosion.

With her senior year at high school drawing to an end, Bella Swan (Stewart) is standing on the precipice of all that is to become in the next phase of her life. While still longing to become a vampire in order to be with boyfriend Edward Cullen (Pattinson) for eternity, Bella is nonetheless torn by the dissenting opinions of others. Not to mention, werewolf Jacob Black (Lautner) still clings to the hope that Bella will dump Edward for him. You see, Bella may think she knows what she wants, but the boyfolk assure her that she doesn't really. The lads know exactly what's best for her, and will decide her future for her! Meanwhile, revenge-seeking vampire Victoria (Howard) begins creating an army of powerful newborn vampires. With Bella in imminent danger, the Cullen family and Jacob's (shirtless) wolf-pack put aside their feuds in order to protect Bella (despite her manipulative, whorish tendencies).

There is enough compelling dramatic material in the Twilight concept for only one or maybe two feature-length movies, but no more. Yet, by the time the credits roll on the second Breaking Dawn film in 2012, Bella Swan's existential crisis will have exceeded the 10-hour cinematic mark. I mean what the fuck? Not even Indiana Jones or Toy Story could be sustained for that long, and Twilight is definitely no Indiana Jones or Toy Story. Three films into the Twilight series, and the appeal of this agonising saga remains baffling. The stories are uninteresting, the characters are flat and dull, the mythology is dreary, and the romantic themes are centuries outdated. And this just applies to the books - the films are even worse due to the fact that, while it took only Meyer to write a bad book, Eclipse is the product of hundreds of hours of hard labour on the part of actors, writers, directors, producers, editors, etc. However, at the very least, there are a few self-referential jokes that provoke chortles, including a scene in which Edward asks if Jacob owns a shirt. 99% of the laughs remain unintentional, though.

Weird as it may sound, the Twilight films are progressively getting worse. The more money spent on them, the shittier they are. 2008's Twilight was bad, but at least had some charm. 2009's New Moon, on the other hand, was a turgid disaster which sputtered out with a tragic non-climax. The decline in quality continues here with Eclipse; a tedious slog that's only fit for the most devoted Twilight fanatics. Dreary, stupid, tragically drawn-out and loaded with tedious dialogue, Eclipse utterly squanders the potentially badass premise of a vampire army fighting werewolves and other vampires. Instead of a film with fertile conflict and legitimate swoon, Eclipse books the bullet train to Dullsville. Once again, the adapted screenplay by Melissa Rosenberg is faithful to the source material to a fault. If Rosenberg were a good writer, she would have reworked the endless scenes of shallow idiots talking into scenes of semi-developed idiots with something worthwhile to say.

Aside from the warring battle, Eclipse is mostly concerned with rehashing the events of New Moon - i.e. the love triangle between Bella, Jacob and Edward. At the end of New Moon, Bella chose Edward, so the story should be over. But Twilight is a woman's fantasy, and Meyer felt that a lot more could be milked from the dreamy notion of a girl being fought over by two young studs. The problem is that Twilight is an undernourished romantic fantasy with little realistic behaviour that spotlights a bunch of completely shallow characters. For crying out loud, Jacob continually tries to forcefully convince Bella that she loves him. Later, Jacob learns that Bella is marrying Edward and refuses to help in the forthcoming battle, meaning he only initially agreed to take part in said battle in a sleazy attempt to impress Bella and win her over. After his tantrum, Bella the evil whore tells Jacob to kiss her. Are you fucking serious?! Edward, meanwhile, is the type of overprotective, jealous boyfriend that girls hate (consider that he sabotaged Bella's truck to prevent her from seeing Jacob). Yet girls still love this douchebag? Thus, the Twilight series is all about a girl's choice between an overprotective, unreasonable, angsty brat, and a clingy, forceful asshole who can't take no for an answer. Bella would be better off marrying her father, for fuck's sake. By the hour mark of Eclipse, one's eyelids become infinitely more interesting.

Honestly, it's still beyond this reviewer's mental parameters as to why Jacob and Edward make a huge fuss over such a dead-eyed, dithering bore of a girl. The film provides no compelling reason as to why these lads put so much on the line for a female who can barely wait to get out of her boyfriend's line of sight so she can cuddle with another guy! Bella may be attractive, but, let's face it, that's all she has going for her. Shouldn't love be based on something deeper? I mean, given the chance I'd probably sleep with Bella a few times, but I prefer not to have relationships with flat wooden tables.

David Slade was the director who took the helm of Eclipse. Slade previously directed the amazing Hard Candy and the visually stylish 30 Days of Night. A genuinely skilled horror director, it made sense for him to tackle a Twilight film. Slade, however, failed to do anything worthwhile with Meyer's insufferable abstinence lecture. What should have been an enthralling, heroic film of affection and protection has instead been reduced to a dialogue-heavy slog which retraces several plot points of its predecessors whilst making barely any headway of its own. Slade had his trusty stylish urges and the most action-intensive Twilight script at his disposal, but the creative effort is indistinguishable - the director was clearly in studio employee mode here; making no effort to shake the actors from their melodramatic comas or to prevent the action from being nothing but a crunching blur of suspect special effects. There are a few entertaining moments here and there, but not enough to salvage this malarkey. The vampires turn to marble or something when they're killed and the film is rated PG-13, denying Slade the chance to orchestrate some gory mayhem.

Do the Twilight producers actually advertise for bad actors? Inexplicably, the returning cast members are actually getting worse with each new movie. Kristen Stewart's interpretation of Bella continues to be mopey and completely uninteresting - it seems as if she took a sleeping pill before filming and was perpetually fighting to stay awake. Robert Pattinson, meanwhile, submitted an all-time worst performance here as Edward. Reprising his role of Jacob is Taylor Lautner, who's embarrassing for the most part. Lautner was somewhat decent in New Moon, but he's full-on awful here. The young star merely acted the shit out of every scene, filling every line reading with pulsating, hammy, unearned intensity that's more amusing than effective. Naturally, Lautner preferred to spend most of his time sans shirt to proudly show off his physique.

Despite the filmmaking talent behind Twilight Eclipse (Twishite Ecrapse?), the movie is a dull mess. Instead of finding an artful tone, director Slade merely filled the movie with a plethora of random pop tunes to provide atmosphere while working through a tedious story routine of swoon and quarrel. Plus, is anyone else disturbed by the messages that Twilight preaches to its target audience? It just tells young girls that virginity is important, and that you should marry as early as possible. Fucking hell, it is a blueprint for creating an entire generation of shy, demurring, deferential domestic abuse victims waiting to happen. Fans of Twilight will doubtlessly enjoy Eclipse, but this third go-round will not make Twihard converts of the rest of us. Three movies and more than six hours in, and there's still no reason to care about this godforsaken franchise.

1.8/10