Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"This has to be a hoax, okay? It's gotta be. There's no way a shark-octopus fishy thing really exists."

Sharktopus was born from a collaboration of two legends of campy cinema: Roger Corman and the Syfy Channel. Unsurprisingly, the love child of these two legends is the new reigning king of so-bad-they're-good movies. Astonishingly, Sharktopus is not wretched - in fact it's really enjoyable; a picture so unbelievably cheesy and intentionally bad that it manages to be oddly endearing. This is a film that is under no pretensions at all - it is not a movie with plot, or good acting, or tension. Instead, the majority of Sharktopus focuses on the genetically engineered titular beast that's half-shark, half-octopus, and all awesome. Luckily, the makers of Sharktopus worked to let viewers in on the joke, and let them know that this is an exercise in fun not to be taken with a straight face.

The S-11 - or "Sharktopus" as it is better known - is a hybrid creature engineered by the Blue Waters corporation to be a military-controlled weapon. However, due to unforseen consequences, the deadly creature shakes off its electronic equipment and goes rogue. So the Sharktopus does what any respectable low-budget movie monster would do: he swims to Mexico where it's cheaper to film. The creature's designer Nathan Sands (Roberts) and his daughter Nicole (Lane) are tasked with reeling the bad boy back in, and opt to call upon some extra muscle to help: former Blue Waters employee Andy Flynn (Bursin), who has settled into a comfortable life of drinking and womanising. As Flynn and the others chase down S-11 to get it back under control, innocents continue to die, and news of the rampaging aquatic mutant begins to spread.

Intelligent plotting? Absolutely not. Insightful dialogue? Not a chance. Nuanced acting? Forget about it. Great special effects? Fuck no. Sharktopus is a pure cheese sandwich, and proud of it. A lot of cheap monster movies are rendered unbearable if a self-serious tone is adopted, which is why the masterminds behind Sharktopus never ask us to take anything seriously. Roger Corman is a long-time creator of low-budget cinema, and he has mastered the craft - he knows precisely what the people want, and he gives it to them. The movie is not full of fleeting glimpses of Sharktopus to tease the viewer until the final reveal... Quite the opposite has happened here: the movie is filled with full-on shots of the monster kicking ass within increasingly ridiculous set-pieces. And the monster itself has been brought to life using some of the worst CGI glimpsed in a motion picture for a while. In fact, the digital effects are so bad that they often look unfinished. Not to mention, the attack scenes are often incompetent to the point of unintentional hilarity. And Sharktopus' roar is fucking hilarious.

The primary narrative concerns Blue Waters scientists hunting down Sharktopus, but a lot of extra vignettes were concocted focusing on characters who are introduced only to be killed off. The victims are mostly just beautiful-looking males and females in great shape who lounge around on the beach waiting for their deaths. Unsurprisingly, the acting is just this side of terrible. Veteran Eric Roberts ably holds his own and does his thing with sufficient enthusiasm, but he was hardly clueless as to the type of movie this is. The remainder of the cast alternate between horribly overdoing it and playing to clichés or stereotypes - thus, like the writers, the performers took the easy way out. Fortunately, the cheesy acting is all part of the film's charm. Unfortunately, the film does begin to lose steam about halfway through as the novelty begins to wear off, but this is the only major drawback of an otherwise fun flick.

When it comes down to it, there's no escaping the reality that Sharktopus is a bad movie. Sure, the script is perhaps a touch better than the average Syfy production because of how self-aware it is, but nobody can commend this movie from any serious critical standpoint. In fact, the script can only be commended for how hilariously cheesy the dialogue is (at the end Flynn says he hopes the creature doesn't jump back out at them, but he's reassured "That only happens in the movies"). There is no mistaking Sharktopus for art: this is a fun, cheesy movie which delivers what it says on the box. It's cinematic junk food - the filmed equivalent of a Big Mac from McDonalds: greasy, made fast and cheap, and somewhat damaging to your health, but it hits the right spot when you've had a few beers and do not feel like exerting much effort to nourish yourself. A classic? No. But it is a passable time killer if you enjoy big dumb creature features...emphasis on dumb.

5.8/10

"I thank god for the catfish because we would be droll, boring and dull if we didn't have somebody nipping at our fin. "

If you have not seen Catfish, do not read this review. Actually, do not read anything about Catfish - do not skim any plot outlines or watch the theatrical trailer. You should watch this movie as ignorant and uninformed as you possibly can. All you need to know is that it's definitely worth your time, so view the film and read this later.

Still reading? Then I shall assume you are either already acquainted with the movie's surprises or you are determined to have one of 2010's most absorbing and shocking documentaries be spoiled for you. Catfish is 2010's other Facebook movie, and it functions as an outstanding companion piece to The Social Network - while David Fincher's Oscar-nominated masterpiece observed Facebook's creation, Catfish is an examination of the obsession and potential dangers of social networking sites. The debate is heating up over the authenticity of Catfish, but whether or not the movie is actually a true story does not matter. If it is in fact genuine as the filmmakers claim it to be, it's a stunning account of nonfiction. If it has been fabricated, then directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman are exquisite craftsmen with a long future ahead of them in Hollywood. Either way, Catfish is brilliant - an enthralling documentary with a relevant social commentary providing a one-of-a-kind viewing experience.

In many ways, Catfish is an accidental documentary. When Ariel Schulman and Henry Joost began to document the day-to-day life of Ariel's brother Yaniv (or Nev for short), they had no clue about the strange twists and turns the next few months would hold. It all starts when Nev takes a photo of a ballet dancer which is printed in the New York Sun, and a talented 8-year-old painter named Abby skilfully recreates the photograph with paint. Impressed, Nev allows Abby to paint more recreations of his photos. Soon, Nev friends Abby and her mother Angela on Facebook, along with Abby's older half-sister Megan whom Nev develops a long-distance relationship with based on phone calls, texts and Facebook posts. However, a little detective work uncovers some evidence that suggests the family are not being entirely honest with him. Curious and determined to uncover the truth, Nev decides to drop in on his dream girl and her family unannounced while Henry and Ariel follow him to film everything. And if you're wondering about what the title means, fear not - it is explained, and it makes perfect sense.

The documentary's first act is light, engaging and entertaining as Nev begins receiving packages containing the gorgeous paintings based on his photography while conversing on Facebook with Abby and her extended family. Airy extended montages ensue which keeps the picture moving at a compulsively watchable pace. From there, things gradually begins to unravel, as subtle signs point to something being amiss. It's a commonly held belief that most of the women you meet over the internet (especially young girls) are in fact pot-bellied, middle-aged men. After all, the relative anonymity of the internet allows leeway for people to reinvent themselves, from tweaking personality traits to creating a fictional persona. Catfish is an exploration of this concept, and an excellent one at that. The filmmaking is almost uniformly exceptional throughout - Zachary Stuart-Pontier's editing is accomplished and Mark Mothersbaugh's musical score is absorbing, while Henry and Ariel's use of internet iconography lends the documentary a welcome playfulness.

Catfish begins as a tale about Nev's friendship with Abby and her relatives (which in itself would be sufficient material for a feature-length documentary) before morphing into a cautionary tale for the electronic age. Yet, the marketing executives at Universal have misrepresented Catfish through the advertising campaign - this is not a thriller in the vein of Hitchcock. While an unnerving, edge-of-your-seat quality pervades the movie's final half-hour, it is not for the reason that the trailers suggest. Rather than a Hitchcock-style thriller about murdering psychopaths or the paranormal, Catfish concerns itself with the mysteries of the unknown, and, ultimately, the power of electronic illusion and the struggle to be happy in a life that has not turned out how one might've expected. (Isn't it ironic that a movie so concerned with the obfuscation of reality is employing such tactics as part of its marketing campaign?) As the movie progresses, layer upon layer of artifice is slowly peeled back, culminating in a climax that's genuinely poignant. And just when you think the surprises are over, further revelations are right around the corner.

Those on the fence about Catfish's veracity should look no further than Nev's performance to persuade them otherwise. Veteran actors spend their entire careers attempting to perfect the array of expressions that flash across Nev's face in an all-too-natural instant - the awkward pauses, the blatant shame and humility, the unrehearsed laughter, the raw bewilderment, and the complex blend of muted emotions behind his shaken eyes and uncomfortable smile. Admittedly, not all of Catfish is entirely convincing, as a few scenes appear somewhat unnatural and directed (like Nev and Ariel's first meeting with Angela), while a few segments are too on-the-nose to be believable (for instance, the crew at one stage meet a waitress who has a much-too-convenient tale to tell). Additionally, momentum slowly but surely fizzles out once the big reveal has happened. More effective editing and pacing would have been beneficial.

The debate will continue to rage on as to whether Catfish is a documentary or a faux mockumentary, but either way this is an excellent piece of filmmaking. As a cautionary tale, this is a poignant, timely indictment of online naïveté as well as a potent warning that internet users can easily be dishonest. The film's executive producer Ryan Kavanaugh has also labelled the movie as a "reality thriller", which is an appropriate designation. As a reality thriller, Catfish is a tense, thought-provoking mystery full of unexpected narrative gyrations. No matter the authenticity, Catfish is a first-rate, challenging motion picture.

8.5/10

"Trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go. Godfather, Jedi, all revealed something that we thought was true that wasn't true."

Released in 1996 and 1997, Scream and Scream 2 remain notable for their savvy satirisation of horror clichés and unnecessary Hollywood sequels by introducing a fresh postmodernist perspective. Veteran horror director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson successfully revitalised slashers with the first two Scream films, showing that the subgenre still had plenty of life (death?) left in it. They say "third time's a charm," but that is not the case with 2000's Scream 3, as this goofy third instalment neglects the wily cleverness and witty self-awareness that characterised its predecessors. To put it mildly, Scream 3 is the type of unremarkable scary movie that Scream and Scream 2 gleefully ridiculed. With Ehren Kruger serving as screenwriter instead of Kevin Williamson, Scream 3 has its moments thanks to the reliable cast and Craven's direction, but it ultimately comes up short in meaty laughs, frightening scares, and nail-biting tension.

Several years after the events of Scream 2, Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) now lives in a secluded house in the woods of rural California, working from her home as a crisis hotline counsellor under a false name. After the brutal murders of Cotton Weary (Liev Schreiber) and his girlfriend (Kelly Rutherford) in Hollywood, Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) travels to Tinseltown, where production is taking place for Stab 3: Return to Woodsboro, and Dewey Riley (David Arquette) is working as an on-set advisor. Another Ghostface killer emerges and begins targeting Stab 3's cast members while working to uncover Sidney's secret location, with Detective Mark Kincaid (Patrick Dempsey) working to investigate the murders. The killer hopes to lure Sidney out of seclusion by taunting her over the phone and leaving photos of her deceased mother at every crime scene.

Due to his commitments to other film projects, Kevin Williamson was not available to write Scream 3, and new screenwriter Ehren Kruger (Arlington Road) ignored Williamson's existing treatment for the sequel. Williamson's scripts for the previous Scream movies provided thrilling set pieces while competently juggling satiric and dramatic tones, ensuring the laughs did not undermine the story's stakes. Unfortunately, Scream 3 comes up short in these areas, neglecting the ironic dialogue, genre satirisation and clever references to other motion pictures. There are occasional laughs, but the gags are goofy instead of self-aware, making the film feel sillier than its predecessors. Furthermore, the murderous set pieces are frequently rote and predictable, the reveal of the killer lacks impact, and the finale drags on too long, ultimately losing steam. Additionally, the story's revelations feel forced, and it is debatable whether or not the logic of the narrative holds together in hindsight with the killer's identity in mind. Indeed, in the years since Scream 3's release, the ending has been subject to debate, dissection and discussion amongst Scream fans online. There were last-minute changes to the ending; crucially, this included removing the reveal of the story's second Ghostface killer despite the film still containing several scenes that point to the character in question being one of the killers.

Craven's execution of some key set pieces gives Scream 3 occasional moments of brilliance, including a chase through a replica of the house from the original Scream. Craven personally paid to construct these sets as he wanted to revisit the original film, and the resulting nostalgia is undeniably special. However, Craven's heart was clearly not in it this time, as he only agreed to direct the sequel to obtain the green light for his (forgotten) 1999 feature Music from the Heart. Additionally, in the aftermath of the Columbine High School massacre, the studio demanded an increased emphasis on comedy while scaling back the violence, to the point that executives wanted a completely bloodless sequel, but Craven thankfully pushed back. Nevertheless, due to the studio interference, Scream 3 is the tamest Scream movie to date, diluting the visceral impact of the kill scenes. Another issue is that this third Scream picture falls victim to countless slasher clichés and fails to do anything interesting with them. For instance, the killer is indestructible, invincible, fast, strong, and skilled with all manner of weapons...until they confront the heroine during the climax, at which time they become utterly useless, unable to punch, run, or aim a knife in the right direction. Additionally, if the characters wind up in an old house, it must contain secret passages and hidden rooms where people become trapped. And if the killer stalks a group of characters, they must split up and go in separate directions, ignoring that there is safety in numbers. The previous Scream films added a satiric edge to well-worn clichés, but Scream 3 plays these moments straight and unironically, making this sequel feel as flavourless as the motion pictures its predecessors mocked.

Despite Scream 3's shortcomings, the conceptual ideas behind the story are mostly solid, and there are some fun scenes. In one amusing moment, one of Stab 3's actresses (played by Jenny McCarthy) bemoans that she is playing a 21-year-old despite being 35, skewering one of Hollywood's most frustrating tropes. She also cries out in frustration about rewrites, reflecting Scream 3's troubled production and frequent rewrites. Detective Kincaid even mentions three scripts existing for Stab 3 to avoid internet leaks, a reference to Scream 2's online leaks. But the film's best scene is a beyond-the-grave video lecture by film geek Randy (Jamie Kennedy), who informs the characters about the "rules of the trilogy," giving Scream 3 its only insightful satire. For instance, he explains that the killer in the third film is extremely difficult to kill, the trilogy's final part brings back past sins, and no character is safe, no matter how major. (Although he fails to mention that the third part of a trilogy is usually the worst.) The fact that Randy's video lecture constitutes the best, wittiest, and most energetic scene in the movie further proves that killing Randy was an egregious miscalculation. Indeed, there was severe fan backlash about his death (which the script slyly references at one stage), and the creative team considered retconning Scream 2 by having Randy survive his injuries.

Campbell's commitments to filming the movie Drowning Mona limited her involvement in Scream 3, forcing Craven and Kruger to reduce her role. Consequently, Dewey and Gale are the new protagonists here (with David Arquette receiving top billing), while Sidney adopts a peripheral role and feels more like an arbitrary afterthought. Although Sidney has a bearing on the story and influences the killer's motivation, she does not achieve much in the film. However, Campbell's performance remains incredibly strong, showing genuine character development since playing a teenager in the original movie. Meanwhile, David Arquette and Courteney Cox both submit terrific performances, with Arquette remaining effortlessly charming and lovable while Cox is fiery and engaging. However, perhaps the biggest casting highlight is Parker Posey as a vapid, ditzy actress named Jennifer, who plays the role of Gale Weathers in Stab 3 and takes pride in playing the character even better than Gale herself. It is fun to watch the banter between Cox and Posey. Other well-known actors fill out the ensemble, with Patrick Dempsey as Detective Kinkaid, Lance Henriksen as a film producer, and Emily Mortimer as one of the Stab 3 cast members. Another cute touch is the inclusion of Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith as Jay and Silent Bob, while Carrie Fisher and film director Roger Corman also make cameo appearances. Roger L. Jackson is also on hand as Ghostface's phone voice and continues to bring appreciable menace to these scenes.

With the Scream franchise still continuing nearly thirty years after the first movie, Scream 3 remains the franchise's weak link, with Craven himself even admitting that this instalment is more Scooby-Doo than Scream. At the very least, Scream 3 comes alive in fits and starts, and it remains mostly watchable, but it is not scary or particularly intense, and it lacks the wit and subversion that made Scream a modern classic. It's not awful and is still superior to any number of other brainless slashers, but it is far below the quality we expect from this series.

5.6/10

"There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to create a successful sequel. Number one: the body count is always bigger. Number two: the death scenes are always much more elaborate - more blood, more gore - carnage candy."

With 1996's Scream making a veritable killing at the box office and revitalising the slasher subgenre, production company Dimension Films swiftly green-lit a sequel, resulting in Scream 2 hitting multiplexes less than a year after its revered predecessor. However, despite the quick turnaround and last-minute rewrites occurring during shooting, 1997's Scream 2 does not feel like a shoddy rush job of a follow-up. The only movies more ripe for satire and ridicule than mindless slasher films are the endless sequels to mindless slashers, and returning screenwriter Kevin Williamson successfully recognises this fact. Instead of a simplistic or stale rehash, Scream 2 is a satisfying extension of the first film, offering a fresh new story with returning characters while revelling in acknowledging and satirising the clichés of film sequels. With Wes Craven thankfully returning to direct this follow-up, the celebrated horror filmmaker creates another entertaining, humorous slasher that recaptures the magic and intelligence of the standout original, ensuring that Scream 2 is a rare horror sequel worth your time.

Scream 2 commences two years after the Woodsboro massacre. In the ensuing years, investigative reporter Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) wrote a book about the murders, and the events were adapted into a slasher flick entitled Stab. Woodsboro survivors Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) and Randy Meeks (Jamie Kennedy) are getting on with their lives by attending Windsor College, though the scars persist. Sidney now lives with Hallie (Elise Neal) and maintains a relationship with her new boyfriend, Derek (Jerry O'Connell), while their friend circle also includes Derek's best friend, Mickey (Timothy Olyphant). But with a Ghostface killer slaughtering two college seniors at a preview screening of Stab, the media quickly suspects that a copycat is on the loose, prompting Dewey Riley (David Arquette) to offer Sidney his protection while Gale arrives to cover the case as it unfolds. The killer soon sets their sights on Sidney, seemingly out for revenge after the events that occurred in Woodsboro.

Scream 2 sees several of Scream's key actors returning, but it is a genuine rarity in the horror genre for the same writer and director to return for the sequel. Williamson developed two treatments for potential sequels while writing the original Scream, and Craven signed a contract for two sequels following a successful test screening of the first movie; thus, Williamson and Craven wanted to pursue follow-ups and planned them in advance instead of arbitrarily assembling a hasty sequel at the studio's behest. Despite Williamson needing to conduct extensive rewrites during shooting in response to an online script leak, his writing remains sharp and witty - Scream 2 smartly dissects the clichés and rules of horror sequels and whodunit mysteries, the dialogue is funny and engaging, the characters stay self-aware and fully realised, and the scares still effortlessly induce chills. One of the film's most notable scenes involves a classroom discussion about film sequels, as the characters debate whether they are inherently inferior or can outdo their predecessors. Naturally, the characters mention noteworthy sequels like Aliens, Terminator 2 and The Godfather: Part II, and one character even mentions the 1987 horror flick House II: The Second Story, which is arguably better than the first House. This discussion highlights that Williamson and Craven wanted to produce a follow-up that favourably compares to the first film. Like the first Scream, the characters also savvily reference an array of movies, while other clever jokes (Gale explaining that somebody photoshopped her head onto Jennifer Aniston) also provoke laughs.

Horror veteran Craven remains in fine directorial form for Scream 2, showing a sure hand behind the camera while orchestrating the mayhem. With nearly double the budget of the original Scream, the technical presentation is top-notch, with editor Patrick Lussier and composer Marco Beltrami also making their return and significantly contributing to the picture's immense power. 1996's Scream opened with a bang, with Craven staging an iconic opening sequence that set the stage for the ensuing carnage. Scream 2 aspires to live up to that set piece with an intense opening involving two African American patrons (played by Jada Pinkett and Omar Epps) attending a screening of Stab. The scene is full of incisive and amusing dialogue, with Pinkett's character bemoaning the lack of African American participation in slashers (it, therefore, cannot be a coincidence that Scream 2 features several black characters) and making fun of the characters on-screen. (Additionally, Gale's African American cameraman later tries to leave, explaining that "Brothers don't last long in situations like this!") Craven and Williamson let loose a torrent of tongue-in-cheek creativity for the "movie within a movie" sequences, gleefully making fun of the first Scream and '90s horror conventions in general. Stab features Tori Spelling as Sidney, Heather Graham in the role played by Drew Barrymore, and Luke Wilson as Sidney's boyfriend. Sadly, glimpses at Stab are limited, and it would have been more fun if Craven and Williamson had found time to show lengthier excerpts.

Thankfully, Scream 2 features another terrific ensemble of likeable characters who feel like genuine people instead of two-dimensional stereotypes. Returning to the role of Sidney, Neve Campbell remains an ideal slasher heroine, capably communicating fear, emotion, vulnerability and passion. Sidney is more spunky than a typical damsel in distress, even calmly shooting down a prank caller in an early scene by using a caller ID device to identify them. Courteney Cox and David Arquette also return for this sequel, while Jamie Kennedy is his usual amiable self as Randy. Proving he was born to play this role, Kennedy continues to enthusiastically deliver geeky, film-savvy monologues, pointing out that horror sequels always have a bigger body count and more elaborate kill scenes. (SPOILERS: Unfortunately, the biggest flaw of Scream 2 is Randy's death. He was much too great of a character and added ample colour to the films, making his murder a massive misstep by Craven and Williamson. END SPOILERS) The ensemble features several recognisable names who are new to the Scream series, including Sarah Michelle Gellar (who had just debuted as the titular character on Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Jerry O'Connell (Stand by Me) and Timothy Olyphant (who later starred in shows like Justified and Deadwood). Meanwhile, Liev Schreiber, who had a very brief role in the first Scream as the falsely accused killer of Sidney's mother, returns here in a more prominent role to beef up the list of suspects. And as Gale's new cameraman, Duane Martin (White Men Can't Jump) provides further comic relief.

Unfortunately, Scream 2's finale feels a bit on the sloppy side. Although the plot twists are compelling and surprising, the typical Hollywood "reveal everything before I kill you" speech is a tad silly, not to mention the climax is too long. This shortcoming aside, Scream 2 is briskly funny and thrilling, representing another successful merger of horror and comedy. Once again, it is a pleasure to behold a meta, postmodernist slasher film that maintains respect for the genre and the audience while making fun of well-worn clichés. It may not be a better film than its predecessor - or quite as excellent - but it remains one of the better horror sequels in history.

7.8/10

"Movies don't create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative!"

For horror fans, Scream should require no introduction. John Carpenter established the recognisable template for slasher films with Halloween in 1978, but Wes Craven's Scream revitalised the fading subgenre eighteen years later by introducing satire and postmodernism to supplement the chilling set pieces. After hundreds of low-budget, low-effort slasher films throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, creativity and interest in the subgenre hit an all-time low, but Scream arrived at the perfect moment to take film-goers by surprise. With a screenplay by Kevin Williamson (his first feature-film credit), Scream is simultaneously a humorous satire that wittily deconstructs horror clichés and an intense, nail-biting exercise in horror by one of the genre's most accomplished filmmakers. Despite concerns about the film's commercial viability, word of mouth propelled Scream to immense financial success over the Christmas holiday period, generating $173 million worldwide from a modest $15 million budget, resulting in a long-running franchise.

In the small town of Woodsboro, teenager Casey Becker (Drew Barrymore) and her boyfriend, Steve, are brutally murdered by a masked killer. The killer wears a "Ghostface" costume, carries a knife, and taunts their victims over the phone before carrying out the murder. Virginal teen Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) appears to be Ghostface's next target, and there is a possible link between the killing spree and the murder of Sidney's mother, Maureen, the previous year. The murders also attract the attention of investigative journalist Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox), who wrote a book about Maureen's homicide and believes the courts convicted an innocent man for the slaying. With the body count piling up, Sidney's high school social group - including boyfriend Billy (Skeet Ulrich), spunky best friend Tatum (Rose McGowan), Tatum's boyfriend, Stu (Matthew Lillard), and keen cinephile Randy (Jamie Kennedy) - develop theories about who the killer could be, while paranoia and mistrust envelop the local community. Also on Sidney's side is Deputy Sheriff Dewey Riley (David Arquette), Tatum's goofy brother.

Although Scream's story ostensibly appears uninteresting and standard-order since it involves a serial killer and a string of teenage victims, the film's brilliance lies in the screenplay's approach to the narrative. With the film signalling its self-awareness from the beginning, Williamson's witty script satirises well-worn genre tropes and references other scary movies, from Friday the 13th, Prom Night and Halloween to Craven's own Nightmare on Elm Street. Film geek Randy frequently references horror films and the "rules" to survive a slasher movie, and he firmly believes that police could catch the Ghostface killer if only they watched the slashers filling the shelves of the video store where he works. Scream also openly mocks the slasher genre's most frustrating traditions, including sex and drugs leading to a character's death, characters saying, "I'll be right back" before being butchered, characters being oblivious to a killer approaching from behind, and victims running up the stairs instead of running out the front door. By placing these characters in the same situations that the script satirises, Craven and Williamson prove that familiar tropes are still effective with fresh ideas behind them, such as a character exclaiming, "Look behind you" at the TV while Ghostface sneaks up behind the oblivious viewer.

Slashers are generally nasty, low-budget endeavours, and their relatively low cost made them a commercially attractive proposition throughout the subgenre's '80s heyday. What separates Scream from simplistic parody movies (like Scary Movie) or cheap, low-grade slashers (like any '80s slasher) is the first-rate technical execution, as Craven stages legitimate scares and generates skin-crawling tension. Craven takes the story and the characters' fates (dead) seriously, and the characters feel like fully realised people instead of worthless knife fodder. The tension seldom relents throughout the key set pieces, and the violence is sobering and dark instead of silly or deliriously enjoyable. Craven opens Scream with a bang, orchestrating a gripping and harrowing opening sequence that stands as one of the best in the genre's history. Although it runs a full 12 minutes, Craven does not waste a single frame, as he sustains interest through the engaging dialogue and white-knuckle tension, leading to a grim end for Barrymore's Casey Becker. Since Barrymore was a major star at the time, her murder was all the more shocking and unexpected in 1996, making it clear that no character is safe from Ghostface. Although several films have spoofed this sequence in the intervening years (most notably in Scary Movie), it has lost none of its power, and it holds a coveted place in the annals of horror history alongside the shower scene in Psycho and the opening shark attack in Jaws. Patrick Lussier's superb editorial efforts significantly contribute to the movie's robust pacing and the effectiveness of the set pieces, while Marco Beltrami's original score alternates between intense and eerie, adding further power to the film's horror elements. The movie also makes memorable use of the song Red Right Hand by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, to the point that the song is now synonymous with the Scream film series.

With a mix of established actors and relative newcomers (at the time), the ensemble cast is flawless from top to bottom. In the role of Sidney Prescott, Neve Campbell (best known at the time for TV's Party of Five) is outstanding. She exhibits vulnerability and strength, two essential characteristics for portraying a slasher heroine whose life is in danger but who has what it takes to fight the killer. Alongside her is Rose McGowan, who's feisty and credible as Sidney's best friend, coming across as far more than just another hapless, big-breasted slasher victim. Meanwhile, Courteney Cox (star of TV's Friends) brings spirited life to Gale Weathers, and David Arquette is effortlessly amicable as the dopey but well-meaning and likeable Dewey. Cox and Arquette share sizzling chemistry, making it unsurprising that they later got married. Also worth mentioning is Jamie Kennedy as Randy; his charming, enthusiastic performance is among this film's biggest pleasures, ensuring his geeky spiels are believable and involving. Skeet Ulrich (who looks remarkably like Johnny Depp) and Matthew Lillard also bring meaningful life to their roles. Lillard sometimes improvised dialogue during filming, and Williamson believes his various ad-libs improved the script. Additionally, voice actor Roger L. Jackson makes a huge impression as the voice of the Ghostface killer, bringing menace to the phone conversations with his victims. Jackson actually interacted with the actors over the phone during filming but never met the actors face-to-face, enhancing the power and immediacy of these scenes.

Scream successfully mixes horror and comedic elements, delivering memorably chilling kills (the sight of Barrymore's disembowelled body remains harrowing) and witty, humorously self-aware discussions as the script dabbles in postmodernism. Craven lets Williamson's sharp writing deliver the laughs while he concentrates on precise framing and taut editing to create the scares. Despite the hard-hitting violence, Scream is also an excessively fun horror movie thanks to the screenplay, and it is a treat to behold a movie that manages to subvert expectations while remaining respectful of the audience and reverential of the genre. There is a good reason why horror aficionados continue to hold Scream in such high regard: the movie confidently stands the test of time, as its intelligence and zest never get old.

9.5/10

"Nobody does this to the United States. The President will get his baseball glove back and play catch with this guy's balls!"

Released in the summer of 1997, Air Force One arrived towards the end of the Die Hard clone era. After Die Hard flourished at the box office in 1988, studios began clamouring to replicate the film's success, leading to the birth of an entire action subgenre. Take, for instance, Speed (Die Hard on a bus), Under Siege (Die Hard on a boat), and Passenger 57 (Die Hard on a plane), among countless others. By 1997, the well had ostensibly run dry, with Die Hard clones becoming relegated to direct-to-video releases with fading stars and recycled stories. And then along came Air Force One, which showed Hollywood another way to make a Die Hard-esque action-thriller: make the John McClane archetype the President of the United States. The result is one of the greatest Die Hard clones of its decade. An unabashedly jingoistic, patriotic blockbuster, Air Force One benefits from the exceptional directorial touch of the late Wolfgang Peterson (In the Line of Fire) and an ideal cast.

Fresh off the success of a joint American-Russian mission to capture rogue world leader General Radek (Jürgen Prochnow), United States President James Marshall (Harrison Ford) delivers a controversial speech declaring that he will not negotiate with terrorists. On the flight home, Air Force One is summarily hijacked by Russian terrorists posing as reporters. Led by ultra-nationalist Ivan Korshunov (Gary Oldman), the terrorists kill several passengers and take the survivors hostage. Making contact with the American Vice President (Glenn Close) after President Marshall ostensibly leaves in the plane's escape pod, Korshunov demands Radek's release from prison and promises to execute a hostage every half an hour until his demands are met. However, Korshunov does not anticipate a determined President Marshall to secretly remain onboard the plane armed with the skill and determination to rescue his family and friends.

Even the most energetic and creative action films are likely to foster at least a vague sense of déjà vu due to the nature of the genre, as there are only so many ways to blow stuff up and stage shootouts. Thus, it is not surprising to note that elements of Air Force One are familiar, with Andrew W. Marlowe's screenplay seemingly comprised of bits and pieces from other films about terrorists, planes, hijacking, hostages, politics and cat-and-mouse chases. Thankfully, it is all perfectly palatable, thanks to Wolfgang Peterson's proficient directorial touch. Peterson uses the plane setting to terrific effect, creating a cramped, claustrophobic disposition that generates tension and danger. The shootouts are great, and the action, in general, is constantly invigorating. Intoxicating bursts of nail-biting tension are also present, such as when the terrorists embark on killing hostages, making this a skilful addition to the genre rather than something more Z-grade. From a technical perspective, Air Force One is a winner. From the lavish, intricate production design to the predominantly impressive special effects (including the miniature work that still holds up in the 21st Century) and Jerry Goldsmith's thrilling score, the film exhibits tremendous skill in its technical assembly. The sole technical drawback is that the demise of Air Force One suffers from unbelievably phoney digital effects. According to the movie's special effects supervisor, Richard Edlund, the crew spent so much time perfecting minor CGI composites for other parts of the film that insufficient time was left to execute the shots of the plane hitting the water properly.

Fortunately, Air Force One does not insult the audience. This movie receives too much unfounded criticism, as people constantly use the umbrella denigration of "it's dumb and implausible" without providing sufficient evidence. Perhaps some people are so accustomed to blatantly dumb blockbusters that they cannot recognise a comparatively smart blockbuster when they see it. It is also surprising how much plausible material is hailed as dumb. Midair gunfire is criticised, but even the real Air Force One has been specifically hardened against gunfire, and thus, the film reflects that. The premise seems implausible, too, but it is executed believably enough (though the lack of terrorist casualties during their shootout with Secret Service agents is a bit on the absurd side, granted). Heck, a former Secret Service agent even admitted there's a one-in-a-million chance that Air Force One could be hijacked. At no point is Air Force One detrimentally stupid - it just takes a few liberties. And since the film is so exciting and well-made, who cares?

In the leading role, Harrison Ford is suitably charismatic. Ford was in his action prime at the time of Air Force One, and he is probably the only star we could believe as an ass-kicking president. It is unlikely that any other performer could combine genuine acting chops, movie star charisma, and the badass disposition of the world's best action stars as effectively as Ford. The President is not portrayed as a bulletproof hero - instead, Marshall evokes the humanity that characterised Die Hard's John McClane; he is a man motivated by family and conscience who shows he bleeds, feels and panics. Marshall is also a President of honour who has a code of ethics... He is almost too good to be true. Alongside Ford, Gary Oldman brings dimensionality, menace and a believable Russian accent to the role of Ivan Korshunov. As a result, the vicious verbal battles between Oldman and Ford are almost as intense as the action scenes. Also in the cast is Glenn Close, who's effectively steely as the Vice President, and William H. Macy, who's a certifiable hoot as a loyal Air Force Major.

A highly enjoyable and intense time killer, Air Force One does not redefine the action movie, but it is a terrific genre flick that hits all the right notes and delivers where it counts. Spectacular action of the refreshing old-school variety is the order of the day here, which is topped off by a robust and likeable hero and a villain who is easy to despise. In short, Air Force One is irresistible escapist entertainment that holds up well to repeat viewings.

8.3/10

"I'll get paid for killing, and this town is full of people who deserve to die."

At once a dark comedy, an action movie and a morality play, Yojimbo is one of Akira Kurosawa's greatest and most essential motion pictures (from a filmography beset with highly regarded flicks). Though Kurosawa is such a revered cinematic giant, I imagine his films seem uninteresting and daunting for casual film-watchers since they are old, foreign, in black and white, and have subtitles. But, like most of Kurosawa's movies, these factors should not dissuade people from watching Yojimbo. Though Kurosawa is predominantly recognised for the style and the deeper meanings of his films, Yojimbo is both fun and exciting, and by no means boring. Certainly, Yojimbo is far more accessible to the mainstream crowd than the works of, say, Ingmar Bergman or Federico Fellini. Kurosawa's gift lies in expertly blending artistry with excitement. Many of his movies can be rightfully labelled as action-adventure films; an arena not often explored by "serious" directors.

Yojimbo (which translates to "Bodyguard") is the story of Sanjuro (Mifune) - a mysterious ronin; a samurai without a master. After wandering into a desolate village, Sanjuro learns that two competing crime families are violently vying for control of it; crippling local business and causing great loss of life. The entire town has all but shut down as a consequence. Despite being told he should leave, the wily samurai opts to stay in the village in order to manipulate both sides to his advantage. Playing the crime families against each other with supreme confidence, the town is soon reduced to chaos as Sanjuro works to remove the criminal elements of the town for the sake of the innocent townsfolk who are uninterested in fighting.

Yojimbo's narrative and string of events are distinctly western-esque - after all, Kurosawa always said that his writing was influenced by American westerns and pulp fiction novels. Ironically, Yojimbo proved to be influential for both Japanese and American cinema - including westerns (the film was later unofficially remade as Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars). Appropriately, Yojimbo is bursting with action and adventure, but it additionally contains enough dry humour for some to perceive it as a comedy. Throughout the film, a torrent of humour is cleverly generated from the gang's desire to purchase Sanjuro's services not exactly to be victorious, but because each side is terrified of meeting his sword. Watching the crime families scramble and sweat under Sanjuro's thumb is supremely humorous. Furthermore, a lot of the understated wit is derived from the way Sanjuro openly mocks the pettiness surrounding him. On one occasion, he provides a catalyst for a battle between the two sides before finding a high vantage point and watching the skirmish unfold with amusement.

Bestowed with an honorary Oscar during his autumnal years, Kurosawa possessed a genuine gift for shot composition. Working in vivid black and white, Kurosawa and cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa captured the desolate village with an incredible balance of contrasts; transforming what could have been an average action film into a true work of art. Consequently, Yojimbo is visually breathtaking to watch as Sanjuro trumps through the hazy streets, passing businesses and homes affected by the warfare. Kurosawa was adept at pacing, as well. Yojimbo clocks in at 110 minutes, yet not a moment feels inessential. Kurosawa understood the necessity for character development and dramatic growth; managing to fulfil these requirements without murdering the pace or skimping on the action. And despite the film's ostensible art-house disposition, heavens me the sword fights and battles are astonishing. Invoking the essence of classic westerns in the vein of John Ford for its demeanour, Yojimbo is most likely Kurosawa's most enjoyable movie.

For Yojimbo, Kurosawa utterly annihilated samurai conventions. Through the eyes of a Japanese traditionalist, Sanjuro is everything a samurai is not: poor, threadbare, self-serving (or so it seems), sarcastic, and willing to fight for anyone in exchange for money and food. Kurosawa did not merely strip away old-school samurai characteristics...he sullied them. Nonetheless, Sanjuro is the epitome of the warrior class who has all of the important characteristics in spades: he is a cunning, rational, brave, skilled ronin with a sense of personal honour and a realist's view of the world around him. The criminals believe that depriving Sanjuro of his sword will render him helpless, but failed to recognise that Sanjuro is a force to be reckoned with even without a sword. Sanjuro is frighteningly intelligent as well. Although the feuding families do not realise it, he is their friend - he just exposed their stupidity and arrogance, as well as highlighting the futility of their feud.

With his calm demeanour and with his teeth often chomping on a toothpick, Sanjuro is the living picture of cool. The late great Japanese actor Toshirô Mifune played the part, and he is sublime. Mifune carries the film with a methodical, deep gaze, not to mention his inherent cool. Kurosawa and Mifune were frequent collaborators; they enjoyed a fruitful working relationship in the '50s and '60s, and made many of their best films together. Mifune was essentially the Robert De Niro to Kurosawa's Martin Scorsese (or should that be the other way around?). Fortunately, the cast members surrounding Mifune provide great support. In particular, Mifune's strongest dramatic scenes are with Takashi Shimura as Sanjuro's confidant. Also colourful and memorable are Isuzu Yamada, Daisuke Katô and Tatsuya Nakadai in their respective roles of Orin, the buffoonish Inokichi, and the dandy gunslinger Unosuke.

Yojimbo is not among Kurosawa's most thematically accomplished or narratively complex works, nor does it cause viewers to ponder issues. Nevertheless, it is certainly one of the filmmaker's most visually ravishing, exciting and enjoyable efforts, even if it is marred by a terribly overwrought musical score. Its excellence has even inspired two remakes to date: Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Western A Fistful of Dollars with Clint Eastwood in 1964, and Walter Hill's Last Man Standing with Bruce Willis in 1995. Neither are as brilliant as Yojimbo, which remains so original and funny; standing as a classic in the annals of filmmaking.

9.0/10

"We've been completely wasting our potential. This city needs our help. We could be heroes! We will pose as villains to get close to the bad guys. That way, no one will suspect we're really the good guys."

The origins of The Green Hornet date back to 1930s radio serials created by George W. Trendle. The Lone Ranger was another Trendle creation, and with the Green Hornet he aimed to bring the iconic character into a modern setting. To this day, the franchise is best known for its shortest-lived incarnation: a 1960s TV show cancelled after its first season which is renowned for introducing the world to Bruce Lee and his unparalleled martial arts prowess. And now, decades on, we have 2011's The Green Hornet. However, this first big-screen feature film incarnation of the character isn't overly interested in the character's history - rather, it's interested in providing a fun time. The basic premise behind the franchise is retained, but the script - penned by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg - simply tweaks the average superhero story in order to suit Rogen's usual screen persona. Purists will likely cry over the changes, but those wanting an enjoyable romp should be pleased by this stylish, glossy blockbuster.

After being raised by his harsh newspaper magnate of a father (Wilkinson), Britt Reid (Rogen) has become a lazy, spoiled playboy who parties hard but is incapable of getting his life in order. When his father dies of an allergic reaction to a bee sting, Britt inherits his father's newspaper business but has no idea how to run it. However, he soon finds comfort in a skilled associate named Kato (Chou). It isn't long before Britt and Kato are involved in an act of accidental valour. Labelling himself the Green Hornet, Britt decides to take to the superhero game, relying on Kato's ingenious inventions and martial arts skills to see him through. Additionally, Britt's idea is to fight crime by using his newspaper to trick the general public into perceiving his mysterious alter ego as a notorious criminal. However, their behaviour disturbs oversensitive crime kingpin Chudnofsky (Waltz), who is unenthusiastic about the notion of handing Los Angeles over to a pair of amateur crime fighters.

Despite its humble origins, Hollywood has been trying to turn The Green Hornet into a modern blockbuster franchise since the '90s, with people like Kevin Smith, Jet Li, and George Clooney all having been attached one at stage. It's doubtful anyone imagined the script would ultimately be written as an action-comedy by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, who also scripted The Pineapple Express and Superbad. While action-comedies are normally welcome, perhaps the main fault of The Green Hornet is that as a comedy it's rather lacklustre. There are only a few hearty laughs to be had, and some of the tonal changes are jarring. For instance, light-hearted laughs are followed by a long, awkward, uncomfortable set-piece spotlighting an over-the-top brawl between Kato and Britt. In all likelihood, the film would have fared better as a straight action flick with a few one-liners. After all, the action aspect is much more enjoyable. Also, the film is unavoidably mainstream and in no way daring, rendering it somewhat unremarkable.

Curiously, the directorial duties for The Green Hornet were handed to French filmmaker Michel Gondry, who is best known for whimsical art-house films (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Science of Sleep). It was an unconventional decision, yet it paid off - Gondry's filmmaking style is a huge asset. Gondry managed to put his own distinctive visual stamp on the established superhero genre without eschewing the studio-favourite blockbuster demeanour. The Green Hornet is packed with fun gadgets and exceptional visual effects, while the action set-pieces were handled with exceptional skill and top-notch visual flair. The film's most "Gondry-esque" aspect is the use of "Kato-Vision", which allows the audience to see Kato's mind's eye during the fights. Slow and fast motion is used simultaneously, and we see Kato zeroing in on critical attack points as he swiftly charts out his strategy. Furthermore, in one scene there is an astonishingly creative use of split-screens and picture-in-picture which reinvigorates the art of montage. Unfortunately, The Green Hornet was converted to 3-D in post-production, but the only plausible explanation for the 3-D release is greed. Any gain to the viewer is negligible, but the increase in revenue from surcharges is quite significant.

Rogen may have co-written the script with himself in mind as Britt Reid, but the actor is miscast. A star of limited acting range, Rogen never tried to step outside of his comfort zone - there is no attempt to bring out a character; instead, the Green Hornet is simply Seth Rogen in a mask without the hard-to-nail necessity of charm. Luckily, Jay Chou fares better as Kato. His English is rough, but he has charisma. Despite the role of Kato demanding more physicality than acting ability, Chou has an amiable screen presence, which is important. Unfortunately, he and Rogen do not share much chemistry. There is some chemistry, but not the scintillating type. Meanwhile, in his first role since his Oscar-winning turn in 2009's Inglourious Basterds, Christoph Waltz is simply marvellous as Chudnofsky. James Franco also appears in an unbilled one-scene cameo. Despite his limited screen-time, Franco steals the movie from everyone else as a smart-mouthed club-owner-come-drug-dealer who verbally slaughters Chudnofsky. Franco is hilarious in the part; giving the film a spark of infectious energy and effortless humour lacking from other character interaction.

In spite of its scripting flaws, the majority of The Green Hornet works. Moments of brilliance are present throughout, and the action scenes are extraordinary. In fact, the last half an hour of the film provides some spectacular carnage culminating in a climactic battle royale within Britt's newspaper headquarters that's slick and exhilarating; far better than a lot of action witnessed in other big-budget action films which have tarnished multiplexes over the past few years. The flick is not quite memorable or strong enough to launch a new franchise, but The Green Hornet is a fun ride. It's certainly not the disaster that most critics made it out to be.

6.8/10

An unexplainable, avant-garde experimental surrealistic curio, Un Chien Andalou was born from a collaboration of filmmaker Luis Buñuel and surreal Spanish artist Salvador Dalí. To this day, the jarring narrative form of Un Chien Andalou makes this picture as much a staple in film studies classes as Citizen Kane, and it has proved very influential to filmmakers over the years (David Lynch, anyone?). It's also a supremely weird creation, as this is an exercise in piling woozy visuals atop one another in a 16-minute cinematic collage disobeying logic and reason. Perhaps it's not the masterpiece some have claimed it to be, but Un Chien Andalou is at once elusive and compelling; a creative exploration of the boundaries of the cinematic medium.

Un Chien Andalou (which translates to An Andalusian Dog) commences with the title card "Once upon a time...". A man is subsequently seen smoking a cigarette while whetting his straight razor. On his balcony, he sees a thin cloud approaching the moon, and proceeds to slice open a woman's pupil with his razor. Why does this happen? Beats me. Virtually every scene in the film defies explanation. To this day, the image of the sliced eye is what people remember most about Un Chien Andalou. It's such a visceral image despite the film's ancient origins, and it can still shock a 21st Century audience. On the topic of the film, Luis Buñuel's son has reportedly noted that it was his father's intention to repulse, shock, and compel viewers to reconsider their viewing habits.

The sliced eye gives way to another title - "Eight years later" - and what seems to be the start of the narrative proper. However, this allusion is swiftly shattered. Un Chien Andalou at no point surrenders to a conventional narrative structure - nor, for that matter, does it provide evidence of a coherent narrative. The film nonsensically rejects cause and effect, as well as the concept of linear time. The titles reflect this, as the film bounces around from "Sixteen years earlier" to "Around 3 in the morning." All of the aggressively disconnected images and sequences are entirely open for interpretation. Boring scholars could probably probe the film for some type of deeper meaning, but this spoils the fun. If you let yourself roll with the punches, you will find Un Chien Andalou to be the most surreal dream sequence ever - perhaps the most admirable filmic representation of what dreams are truly like. And this is precisely what Dalí and Buñuel were shooting for. After all, Un Chien Andalou was born out of a collection of dreams which were recalled by Dalí and Buñuel. This is perhaps the only thing about the film which makes sense.

It is indeed difficult to review a film like Un Chien Andalou for the typical mainstream film-goer. Suffice it to say, this is a motion picture you can admire and analyse, but not exactly enjoy - it's a historical curiosity, not an entertaining time at the flicks. For all its influential surrealism and visual bravado, it never engages on an emotional level. Mind-fuck films are almost always like this; exchanging warmth and emotion for bewilderment. Un Chien Andalou is an often hypnotic, shocking display of surrealism, yet it's still cold. It's doubtful you will want to watch it more than once. It's precisely what Dalí and Buñuel aspired to make, granted, but it won't work for everyone due to its unique demeanour.

7.9/10

"At fourteen forty six pacific standard time, twelve different locations across the globe were breached in what appears to have been a coordinated attack by an unknown enemy. This is a textbook military invasion. We are the last offensive force on the west coast. We cannot lose Los Angeles."

A more suitable title for Battle: Los Angeles would be Battle to Stay Awake. A meandering, often tedious instance of blockbuster filmmaking, Battle: Los Angeles appears to have been designed as either a military recruitment video or the ultimate home theatre system "demo disc" (or both). At its most basic level, this is a wearying display of shaky-cam mayhem featuring a cast of cardboard cut-outs; a film eager to go wild with money shots but is negligent in terms of providing a reason to care. Roger Ebert said it best in his hilarious review: "Young men: If you attend this crap with friends who admire it, tactfully inform them they are idiots. Young women: If your date likes this movie, tell him you've been thinking it over, and you think you should consider spending some time apart."

Adhering faithfully to formula, the film commences as cities around the globe become inundated by meteor showers. The meteors are not regular meteors, however, but alien machinery. It isn't long before spacecrafts and aliens begin obliterating global cities with the palpable goal in mind of exterminating human life and colonising the planet. With the invasion intensifying, a Marine squad heads into Santa Monica to evacuate the city before blasting it to oblivion in an attempt to halt the advancing alien activity. Leading the charge is Staff Sergeant Michael Nantz (Eckhart), who is called back into duty after a harrowing tour of Afghanistan. Storming the city with all guns blazing, Nantz's platoon encounters numerous alien warriors and aircrafts armed with superior firepower. Raising the stakes is their discovery of a group of civilians, whom they vow to protect and lead to safety.

Battle: Los Angeles's script was credited to Christopher Bertolini, but it is unclear what exactly he was responsible for. The film is literally two hours of interchangeable, forgettable faces shouting at each other, shooting things, blowing shit up and getting killed. The dialogue is almost entirely made up of people shouting "Watch out!", "Get down!", "Move!", "Fire!", and the derivatives of these screams. The soldiers are one-dimensional stereotypes, and the civilians are bland. The only thing telling us we should care when a character dies is the overbearing music. Once the titular battle gets underway, the soldiers are reduced to random, indecipherable figures without defining characteristics who shoot guns and wear battle fatigues (except Eckhart and Michelle Rodriguez, but only because they are recognisable stars). For fuck's sake, when it came time to assemble a cast list for this review, I did not know who to bill first beyond Eckhart and Rodriguez! All the best action/war movies develop their characters in the heat of battle. Take Black Hawk Down, for instance. Nobody behind Battle: Los Angeles was talented enough to pull this off. Though, credit where credit is due, the actors do seem to try to do something substantive with their underwritten roles, rather than sleepwalking their way through the film for the sake of their paycheques.

There are very few L.A. landmarks to be seen throughout the film, reducing Battle: Los Angeles to a repetitive barrage of sequences depicting soldiers firing weapons in nondescript streets and walking around dank, desolate buildings. Unfortunately, the cinematography is frequently shaky to the point of nauseating - it's as if the cameraman is always wandering around bumping into things. Sure, director Jonathan Liebesman at times delivers in terms of action, and there are a few spectacular money shots thanks to some solid special effects. But there's never any awe to the apocalyptic events - the film feels like a pedestrian video game rather than a harrowing war film. Furthermore, armed with the studio-favourite PG-13 rating, the film fails to deliver on a visceral level. People and aliens are killed, but there is no blood. Hardcore soldiers are thrown into harsh conditions, but never swear. The whole project feels gutless due to this. Worse, Battle: Los Angeles is the kind of action movie which ends with the heroes defeating the enemy by blowing up one magical thing. The climax feels tacked-on and forced, as if the writer realised the film needed to end very soon and sought a fast, easy way out. This denotes another problem - the script rushes from plot point to plot point, making every narrative twist and turn seem convenient and contrived.

I love a good action movie as much as the next guy, and I acknowledge that not every action film needs to have well-developed characters. However, Battle: Los Angeles is an incessant sensory assault which becomes tiresome due to a distinct lack of humanity, personality, variety and humour. It has its moments and the production values are faultless, but these qualities are wasted on a film not worth caring about. Battle: Los Angeles is an alien invasion picture as generic as its title, flaunting a bunch of generic actors playing generic roles fighting generic aliens in generic settings in generic ways. If you want to see an alien invasion story with more interest in humanity, see Spielberg's War of the Worlds. If you're seeking an invasion story executed with personality and inventiveness, watch District 9. The existence of these well-known blockbusters renders such a standard film as Battle: Los Angeles rather obsolete.

4.1/10