Reviews by PvtCaboose91

It is absolutely beyond this reviewer's mental parameters as to why Wild Target endured such a ruthless critical reception during its fleeting theatrical run in 2010. Perhaps it depends on mood and expectations, but Wild Target is a wonderfully droll, effortlessly charming and spry action-comedy from the British school of black humour. Rarely less than tear-provokingly hilarious, this movie is a grand, quick-witted slice of entertainment which harkens back to the screwball heist comedies of yore; a time when making viewers laugh was more important than constructing an intricate narrative. Sure, the plot is not at all original and the film is somewhat predictable, but if you need a dose of quality British-flavoured comedy (i.e. offhand, self-deprecating, and coming in equal doses of light and black), you cannot afford to miss this one.

Rose (Blunt) is a con artist and a thief who exercises her significant sexual allure to cheat, lie and steal her way through the average day. For her latest scam, Rose looks to make a killing by selling a forged Rembrandt self-portrait to gangster Ferguson (Everett). Unfortunately, she doesn't get far before the scam is exposed and Rose finds herself face-to-face with legendary assassin Victor Maynard (Nighy). Victor fails to carry out the contract due to unexpected difficulties, however, and soon afterwards he accidentally protects Rose from a second set of hired guns. Leaving town with Rose and impressionable bystander Tony (Grint), Victor takes refuge in his stuffy home. As Rose teaches the uptight assassin to loosen up a tad, another hitman (Freeman) is hired to finish the job.

Directed by Jonathan Lynn (best known for the BBC series Yes, Minister), Wild Target is based on the 1993 French farce Cible émouvante but is so thoroughly and quintessentially English in both spirit and humour that its French origins are hard to detect. The central conceit of a trained killer being domesticated is nothing new, but Lynn and his writers (Lucinda Coxon and Pierre Salvadori) managed to construct a slant on the material that is fresh-feeling. There's a rapid-fire string of clever verbal and visual gags which provide a great deal of laughs, while the script is fertile ground for witty dialogue. One would expect things to become far less interesting once the three fugitives arrive at Victor's stately mansion, but the psychological humour is just getting started and there's almost always something funny happening. The pace is kept welcomely brisk throughout, with only a few moments that sag. Not many movies are capable of delivering quality laugh-out-loud hilarity, but Wild Target succeeds on this front. The humour may not be to everyone's taste, but Wild Target is guaranteed to make you laugh if you adore British comedy.

The trio of stars constituting the main characters - Nighy, Blunt and Grint - lighten up the screen of whatever film they're gallivanting through, and this is unchanged for Wild Target - they all have a lively synergy, and play off one another to deeply hilarious effect. Nobody does constipated English reserve better than Nighy, and in Wild Target he's as uptight as they come; parlaying his scarecrow-like physique into some of the stiffest slapstick imaginable. Alongside him, Emily Blunt is essentially the British Zooey Deschanel - flirty, indie-cute, irresistibly gorgeous, and well-dressed - and as Rose she was given welcome respite from her regular roles in Victorian-era costume dramas. Likewise, it is refreshing to see Rupert Grint - who has spent a full decade as Harry Potter's best friend - outside of the halls of Hogwarts for a change. Grint has real acting chops that he was able to express here. Together, Nighy, Grint and Blunt form a love triangle of acutely comic angles. Playing another hitman, Martin Freeman is in fine comedic form here; his hilariously exaggerated white teeth and spot-on comic timing are huge assets. To round out the cast, Rupert Everett and Eileen Atkins - as Ferguson and Victor's mother, respectively - clearly had an absolute ball playing their characters.

Perhaps Wild Target is a bit too unoriginal and a tad too neutered (consider the PG-13 rating), but it easily earns a recommendation. It did not deserve such a thorough trashing by the critics. Sure, it's no masterpiece, but it's a nice, fun, sprightly British diversion with good actors, a notably lively soundtrack, and plenty of quality gags. With Hollywood churning out masses of heavily clichéd, unfunny studio-produced comedies every single year, something like Wild Target should be intimately embraced.

7.7/10

The Adjustment Bureau is something rare: an enthralling, literate science fiction flick imbued with existential density, thematic texture, humanity and emotional warmth. In a sense, it is the motion picture that Christopher Nolan's over-celebrated, emotionally barren Inception should have been. Admittedly, there is a mainstream-friendly vibe pervading the final third of this picture, and a few clichés are inescapable, yet the movie succeeds due to the fact that the audience can easily become invested in the characters' fates. And, most importantly for a sci-fi thriller, The Adjustment Bureau poses thought-provoking questions and conveys provocative concepts. For a Hollywood product to tick such boxes in an age of brainless action extravaganzas, it's a miracle.

Electoral candidate David Norris (Damon) is on the verge of becoming the youngest congressman to be elected senator of New York. However, due to unforseen bad press on the eve of the election, he is robbed of would-be victory. Prior to his concession speech, David has a chance meeting with spirited dancer Elise (Blunt) and romantic sparks fly, but Elise scurries away before providing any contact details. Yet, it is David's experience with Elise that paves the way for the widely respected speech he delivers thereafter. Three fortuitous years later, David and Elise coincidentally cross paths again on a bus, and David attempts to woo her permanently. Unfortunately, the coupling apparently interferes with the "master plan" for both of their lives. Consequently, the Adjustment Bureau soon enters the picture. A group of formerly-dressed men who take orders from an enigmatic "Chairman", the Adjustment Bureau make sure everything goes to plan, and for unknown reasons they are determined to prevent David and Elise from falling in love.

The premise is derived from Philip K. Dick's 1954 short story The Adjustment Team. Like a majority of the cinematic adaptations of Dick's short stories, The Adjustment Bureau's writer-director George Nolfi was not entirely faithful to the original text, but he did retain the basic framework. Fortunately, before the sci-fi material takes hold, the film goes to great pains to put itself and its protagonist in the real world. There is a tremendous amount of character development during the film's first act, allowing us to get to know David as a flesh-and-blood human. Furthermore, perhaps the most remarkable thing about The Adjustment Bureau is that we can believe this romance from the start. When David and Elise have a leisurely conversation during their first meeting, there's a palpable romantic spark between them. It's easy to understand why the two are interested in each other, since, as humans, most of us can relate to the exhilarating feeling we experience when we meet and are dazzled by someone. Plus, the two characters simply click.

The Adjustment Bureau is a tight, resourceful thriller that's unhurried but does not waste a single second of screen-time. Once the foundation of David's everyday existence is shattered, the film shifts forward at breakneck fluidity with taut exposition and some exhilarating set-pieces. Yet, Nolfi did not forget how crucial the story's human side is. After all, at its heart, The Adjustment Bureau is a poignant, powerful romance between two people who seem right for each other but face a unique kind of force keeping them apart. As a matter of fact, it's genuinely surprisingly that The Adjustment Bureau is more of a romance than a sci-fi thriller. This is not to say that the Twilight Zone aspects are ignored or reduced to background colour, but the film is more concerned with provoking an emotional response than a logical one. The story is about love conquering all, and about people who risk everything for a chance at romantic joy and happiness.

Furthermore, it's impressive to note that the picture dabbles in numerous genres yet manages to be completely airtight in its tone. After kicking off as a politics-laced romantic comedy (WTF?!), The Adjustment Bureau eventually veers towards mystery, sci-fi, fantasy, action, and cat-and-mouse thriller. Also, without using any usual scare tactics that one might typically see in a B-grade horror flick, Nolfi was able to build a disquieting, eerie mood. This is Nolfi's directorial debut (his former day-job was as screenwriter extraordinaire, having co-written The Bourne Ultimatum and other films), and it's a promising one. Commendably, Nolfi managed to handle the exposition with consummate skill; teasing viewers with tiny pieces of godly reveal, and keeping the Bureau's origins playfully ambiguous. Credit is also due to veteran cinematographer John Toll who contributed to the stylish visual flair, and to Thomas Newman for his excellent score. The film's finale is utterly breathtaking, with a unique, pulse-pounding foot chase through the streets of New York. However, the tidy way the film wraps up does admittedly feel too mainstream-friendly. It's a satisfying ending, but perhaps a bit out-of-place in a film that's otherwise so unpredictable.

Matt Damon is pitch-perfect as David Norris. Damon comes across as intrinsically human without ever having to try, and he's an easy protagonist to care about and relate to. Alongside him, Emily Blunt is an excellent match for Damon, and their blistering chemistry fortunately keeps the focus on the characters rather than the mechanics of the narrative. Meanwhile, as members of the Adjustment Bureau, John Slattery and Anthony Mackie are both strong performers, and look as if they walked right out of a black-and-white 1940s movie and into this one. Rounding out the main players is Terence Stamp, who afforded a perfect amount of iciness and regality to his role.

Considering the usual standard for big-budget Hollywood motion pictures in this day and age, it is indeed refreshing to witness a film like The Adjustment Bureau; an assured, smart, creative sci-fi thriller which does not forget about humanity and warmth.

8.2/10

From Rocky to Raging Bull to Million Dollar Baby, boxing films have existed as Oscar staples for decades. Suffice it to say, it's challenging - if not impossible - to find anything new or fresh to mine in the frequently-exploited genre. Hence, 2010's The Fighter does not flourish as an original offering of filmmaking since it's both an underdog story of boxing glory as well as a tale of brutes in a harsh working class corner of Boston. The Fighter retrieves inspiration from deep within its heart, though, as it dissects the true-life story of Irish boxer Micky Ward and his brother Dicky. Much like its real-world inspiration, this is an agitated picture which possesses overwhelming spirit to overcome its dreary familiarity. Plus, freed from any real narrative suspense, a viewer is given the chance to focus on what's fresh and new: the matter-of-fact filming style, the lived-in atmosphere, and a handful of absolutely exceptional performances courtesy of an unbelievably talented cast.

In 1978, professional boxer Dicky Eklund (Bale) was labelled "The Pride of Lowell" in his small Massachusetts town after knocking down the then-unstoppable boxer Sugar Ray Leonard in a much-publicised match. Fast forward to the early '90s, and Dicky now spends his time training his brother Micky (Wahlberg) and doing drugs. However, the combination of Dicky's ineffective training (as a consequence of his crack habit) and the incompetent management of his mother (Leo) results in Micky getting pummelled in the ring. Facing a dire future, Micky is spurred on by his strong-willed girlfriend Charlene (Adams) to make a change and break away from the control of his dysfunctional family in order to begin taking steps towards respectability on the boxing circuit. While Micky's decision sends him to victorious heights, it also threatens to shun Dicky and crush his intense world of brotherly adoration.

The Fighter immaculately fuses the pleasures of a big entertainment with the provocative food-for-thought elements of a movie with loftier goals in mind than being a simple diversion. Like most films of this ilk, this is far more than a boxing picture - it's more of a character drama, and more of an examination of the struggles of life than a look at the challenges inside the ring. The family drama elements are compelling, pungent and brutal, as it's heartbreaking to witness Micky being torn between his desire to pursue a championship and his loyalty to his mother and brother. The script (credited to Scott Silver, Eric Johnson and Paul Tamasy) does an effective job of conveying Micky's emotional and professional trajectory, while helmer David O. Russell and cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema eschewed technical razzle-dazzle in favour of a raw, gritty filming approach to emphasise character and emotion. The in-the-ring action, too, is hard-hitting and well-crafted. The Fighter is also enhanced by an excellent soundtrack of propulsive songs and pounding rhythms, with staple training montages in which you could be forgiven for wondering whether Gonna Fly Now is about to play.

Due to the common theme of boxing, comparisons to Sylvester Stallone's Rocky are inevitable, but perhaps a more apt comparison for The Fighter would be Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler. It's no coincidence that Aronofsky was originally attached to direct but eventually stayed on as producer. See, both The Fighter and The Wrestler are grim, reality-driven pictures which do not shy away from portraying the difficulties of life. Neither The Wrestler nor The Fighter feel like fairytales, and the way things pan out for each film's protagonist is secondary to the lessons learned along the way. Furthermore, the titles of both The Wrestler and The Fighter imply the impersonal; describing a man's title rather than describing a fully-defined individual. Similarly, if both words are taken as verbs rather than nouns, they also imply the struggles of the protagonists who wrestle with or fight off the challenges of life. The ambiguousness of The Fighter's title even extends to the fact that it's unclear whether it refers to Dicky or Micky since both men fit the description.

Amazingly immersive performances courtesy of both Christian Bale and Melissa Leo signify The Fighter's biggest assets, as reflected in the fact that both stars received Academy Awards. During Bale's adult carer, the actor has shown a tendency to take himself way too seriously, leading to the development of a hardened, humourless and drab screen persona (see The Dark Knight and Terminator Salvation). For his role of Dicky, Bale finally let loose and delivered a perfectly-nuanced, phenomenal performance - this is the enormously talented Bale that we remember seeing in American Psycho. Bale spent countless hours with the real-life Dicky to study his mannerisms, and he lost weight to the point of being nearly unrecognisable. Bale won his first Oscar for this role, and it's much-deserved.

Meanwhile, Amy Adams was cast against type. Usually known for sweet and innocent roles, Adams adopted the persona of a confrontational bitch to play Charlene. Adams disperses innumerable profanities and does not shy away from physical violence. Yet, Charlene also has a softer and sexier side. Happily, Adams managed to nail every facet of the character. Alongside her, Mark Wahlberg's performance as Micky is the least "showy". His line readings are simple and direct, yet he's also staggeringly effective, not to mention he represents the anchor that both holds the production in place and allows performers around him to take flight. Wahlberg did not receive an Oscar nomination, but this is among his best work in years. The only place where The Fighter stumbles is in the depiction of Micky and Charlene's relationship, which is underdeveloped. The pair abruptly and bafflingly transition from awkward first date to committed relationship. It may work from a narrative standpoint but not emotionally, which is bewildering in a picture otherwise imbued with so much heart and soul. This is especially disappointing since Micky and Charlene's relationship is the catalyst which helps Micky break free and become his own person.

For several years, Mark Wahlberg worked arduously to try and get this project off the ground, and continued with a strict training and diet regime over said years to ensure he would be in proper shape for whenever the film was green-lit. Fortunately, his hard work and determination has paid off with a film that lives up to his hopes for it. The Fighter is simply an outstanding motion picture. The movie works not only due to its unflinching realism and sturdy writing, but also due to exemplary performances across the board.

8.8/10

Once upon a time in 1998, Bobby and Peter Farrelly pushed the envelope of raunchy comedy with their breakout hit There's Something About Mary. A few years on, the brothers created the equally hilarious Me, Myself & Irene. Unfortunately, since then, the brothers have been stuck in a serious rut - throughout the noughties they directed several subpar comedies which disappointed their fans and showed that the duo has gotten softer. 2011's Hall Pass therefore represented an attempt by the Farrelly brothers to reclaim the crown they lost over a decade ago. Thankfully, Hall Pass is hilarious; denoting a return to form for the brothers. It's not exactly on par with the pair's best movies, but this flick is gut-bustingly funny and the story is more thoughtful than expected. See, the brothers gleaned a few tricks from Judd Apatow's playbook, meaning that there's an element of sweetness buried underneath the nudity, bodily fluid jokes, and faecal matter.

Real estate agent Rick (Wilson) and his best friend Fred (Sudeikis) are two middle-aged schlubs who are married, respectively, to Maggie (Fischer) and Grace (Applegate). Despite being married, neither Rick nor Fred can help but ogle every good-looking woman they stumble across. Tired of their husbands' perpetually wandering eyes and sensing that the spark of their relationships may have faded, Maggie and Grace opt to take the advice of a neighbourhood friend and grant Rick and Fred a "hall pass" - that is, one week free from marriage in which the guys can do whatever they want (without consequences) in order to get the sexual urges out of their systems. Initially taken aback by the news, they soon become gung-ho at the notion of living it up like college guys. Confronted with their wildest dreams come true, Rick and Fred embark on a weeklong series of misadventures desperate to find willing women.

Naturally, Rick and Fred - and, for that matter, Maggie and Grace - will inevitably realise just how precious their partners are to them, and realise the week has given them a newfound appreciation for their home life. Of course, too, the characters are going to have second thoughts about going through with affairs. And of course, there will be the obligatory climactic make-ups. This stuff is as predictable as the tide. Yet, even though these arcs are in the service of formula and although you can predict them a mile away, at least there is some actual sweetness amidst the vulgarity. Interestingly, the Farrelly brothers have stated that they believe Hall Pass to be a chick flick. While this may sound like a strange possibility for a movie full of gross-out humour, it's almost true since the wives of the movie also undergo eye-opening epiphanies. It's a strange audience to target, though, since middle-aged women are likely to turn off the movie within the first half an hour, and it's doubtful they'll sit through an entire scene of full-frontal penis nudity. As a side note, where the hell did Rick and Maggie's kids go? They literally disappear after the midway point, and are never seen again.

Hall Pass definitely earns its R-rating. It's not as if the movie merely contains a couple of f-bombs and a few nudity shots - rather, it's packed with a constant barrage of low-brow but hilarious gags and quite a lot of graphic nudity. Yet, not all of the comedy here is of the raunchy or gross-out variety (the Law & Order scene transition noise is recurringly used to side-splitting effect), though it's hard to imagine Hall Pass appealing to anybody who does not appreciate silly humour. Admittedly, the biggest laughs are a bit too few and far between, but at least the movie never grows excruciating between the best set-pieces. A major drawback of Hall Pass, though, is that the utter futility and joylessness of the hall pass becomes the focus of the film, which is ill-advised. The Farrelly brothers perhaps played things a bit too safe, and should have instead mined the premise for all its blackest potential. After all, the plot is morally reprehensible enough as it is, so it seems pointless to soften the proceedings.

Owen Wilson is predictably fine and amiable as Rick, though he adopted his stereotypical straight-man shtick and none of the material truly tests his thespian talents. Alongside him, Jason Sudeikis ably slipped into the role of Fred with the demented everyman persona which defined most of his Saturday Night Live oeuvre. The standout performance, though (to the extent that there can be a standout in a production of this sort), was delivered by the perpetually-reliable Richard Jenkins. Jenkins does not appear until the film's final third, but, when he does arrive, he dominates every scene he's in. Never less than hilarious, Jenkins proved here that he's as good with comedy as he is with drama. Another of the feature's highest points is Nicky Whelan (from the terrible 9th season of Scrubs), who's stunningly beautiful and charismatic as the sweet-natured Leigh. Also worth mentioning is Brit comedian Stephen Merchant, whose brand of comedy lightens up several sequences. Stick around momentarily during the end credits, as there's an additional scene involving Merchant that's side-splitting.

Hall Pass lacks the same kick of the earlier films by the Farrelly brothers, but it nonetheless shows enough flashes of '90s-Farrelly magic to make the film worth watching. Considering the usual standard for studio comedies, it is indeed refreshing to witness a comedy which not only has the balls to go the hard-R route but also contains actual moments of inspired hilarity. Nonetheless, one cannot help but wonder what the '90s-era Farrelly brothers might have made of it.

6.1/10

The first half of 2010 was not a vintage year for motion pictures in general, but it was an unusually brilliant period for animated features. With Toy Story 3 and How to Train Your Dragon having opened to overwhelming acclaim, 2010's big-screen animated features continued to emphasise the adage that cartoons are not just for kids. Perhaps the dark horse of the 2010 summer animation derby was Despicable Me, from the recently-established Illumination Entertainment (a subsidiary of Universal). Admittedly, the animation is not as crisp or enticing as that of Toy Story 3 or How to Train Your Dragon (or even Shrek Forever After), and the feature lacks the dramatic relevance and storytelling potency of Pixar's regular output. Nonetheless, Despicable Me has it where it counts: it has heart, a clever script, and a handful of big laughs.

The aging Gru (Carell) considers himself to be the greatest supervillain in the world, but the recent theft of Egypt's Great Pyramid of Giza by Gru's rival - Vector (Segel) - leaves him deficient in the amazement department. In an attempt to one-up Vector, Gru devises his greatest scheme to date: to shrink and steal the moon. In order to obtain the requisite shrinking ray, Gru is forced to adopt three adorable orphan girls - Margo (Cosgrove), Edith (Gaier) and Agnes (Fisher) - as a type of Trojan Horse. However, Gru soon finds himself enjoying the lifestyle of a father, which rapidly diverts his attention from his moon-stealing plan, much to the dismay of Gru's gadget mastermind Dr. Nefario (Brand).

No better word exists to describe Despicable Me than "cute". The flick is almost unbearably cute - Gru's yellow minions are cute, the kids are cute, and Elsie Fisher's line deliveries are impossibly adorable. As with every good animated movie, Despicable Me includes throwaway gags for the kids in addition to sly asides that only adults will understand. The movie also distinguishes itself by its willingness to provide a more subversive, at times darker brand of humour than the average family film (after a spike-laden coffin closes on one of the orphans, red liquid is seen trickling from underneath and Gru simply says "Well, I suppose the plan will work with two"...before we find out that the girl's juice box was just impaled). Furthermore, it's refreshing that screenwriters Ken Daurio and Cinco Paul tried to keep the picture as free from pop culture jokes as possible, meaning Despicable Me will not look dated for many years. However, while the animation is colourful and appealing, it is comparatively basic; lacking the rich texture and intricate detail which characterises Pixar and DreamWorks animation productions. Yet this barely matters, because the high energy levels and effective pacing more than compensates for this.

Despicable Me was imbued with Looney Toon logic, meaning the moviemakers had the freedom to go nuts with amusingly violent slapstick since none of the characters can actually get hurt. As such, when the kids get a hold of Gru's weaponry, the results are hilarious rather than cringe-inducing. The only real problem with Despicable Me is that formula takes control once the third act approaches, and the emotional arc is too on-the-nose. There is never a great deal of tension or even any question as to whether the film is headed, though this seems like a curmudgeonly thing to complain about considering this is a family movie. At the very least, Gru's inevitable transition from supervillain to father is funny, somewhat believable, and, yes, even heart-warming. Naturally, Despicable Me does not work as effectively on multiple levels as Toy Story 3, but the film neither bores nor insults mature-age viewers in the way that too many family films do. Despicable Me is almost the complete package, and its flaws only emerge when it's placed alongside the very best of the animation realm.

A visual blend of Uncle Fester (The Addams Family) and Danny DeVito's Penguin from Batman Returns, Gru is one of the most interesting and memorable animated characters in recent memory. Luckily, Steve Carell's vocal performance (a self-proclaimed mix of Ricardo Montalban and Bela Lugosi) is excellent. Also fortunate is that Gru is just one of several memorable characters. The orphans who unwittingly get caught up in Gru's plan are derivative but endearing - especially the unicorn-loving Agnes, whose cuteness is borderline illegal - and the vocal performances are spot-on. Meanwhile, Vector is a great villain - there's an almost childlike mentality to his actions, with a boastful nature begging to be punished. Jason Segel's interpretation of Vector is well-judged and amusing, too. Russell Brand also lent his voice to the cast, and he's practically unrecognisable as Dr. Nefario. All of the actors displayed a wonderful versatility for these roles.

Despicable Me does not hold up as well under close scrutiny as other animated classics. It's a blast the whole way through - an inspired delight even - but after a few viewings, it becomes clear that the sly laughs are a bit too occasional and that formula strongly takes over in the final act. Still, this is a solid animation effort, and it's definitely worth it for a family movie night.

7.7/10

Most of those who came into contact with the 2008 Swedish masterpiece Let the Right One In were immediately captivated and hypnotised by its brilliance, especially in the wake of the insipid Twilight phenomenon. Let the Right One In committed an unforgivable sin, though: it was foreign and subtitle-laden, meaning the movie never existed in Hollywood's eyes. Thus, now we have Let Me In - the gratuitous redo - a quick two years after the original film. Of course, this remake has been controversial from the beginning because it's simply unnecessary, and alas the final product hardly alleviates these reservations. On its own, 2010's Let Me In is well-made and benefits from elegant visual flourishes, but it's almost a direct copy of the beloved original and therefore comes across as pointless for those already familiar with the material. Additionally, writer-director Matt Reeves (Cloverfield) aimed to make a moody, sullen shocker with a touch of romance, but dull and ponderous are more appropriate descriptors.

Set in New Mexico in the winter of the early 1980s, Let Me In concerns 12-year-old Owen (Smit-McPhee). Bullied incessantly at school, Owen lives a solitary life in a bleak apartment complex, and takes solace in voyeurism and violent fantasies while perpetually yearning for a friend. Into the community soon comes a strange pre-teen named Abby (Moretz), who drags around an older man (Jenkins) whom everyone assumes is her father. Through their mutual appreciation of puzzles and after a string of snowy late-night meetings, Abby and Owen forge a tentative friendship. His correspondences with Abby are all the more exciting for Owen since his home life was destroyed by a bitter divorce. Little does Owen realise, however, that Abby is in fact a vampire. Meanwhile, after a string of murders in the local area, a detective (Koteas) begins an investigation which brings him closer and closer to Abby's doorstep.

Let Me In is not terrible per se, but it pales in comparison to its predecessor. Frankly, the film feels meaningless and gutless, with any justification for its existence being financial rather than artistic since Reeves did nothing to improve upon the original film in any worthwhile or substantive way. Dialogue is also not a strong point, as it would seem that Reeves literally put the original Swedish script through Google Translator and passed the product off as his own. Yet while the film is incredibly faithful to the original, a few changes were made which hinder this remake's effectiveness, most notably that Abby is not an alluring question mark to be explored over two hours but instead an animal from the word "go". Reeves also chose to dispose of the peripheral faces of the story, and not explore the local townspeople. This may keep all eyes on Owen and Abby, but it drains the threat of the film and renders the attack scenes as hollow violence to satiate the mainstream crowd. In the process, crucial steps of suspense are lost. Perhaps most importantly, as a standalone movie Let Me In suffers from clumsy pacing. While Let the Right One In was captivating from the very first frame, Let Me In is too cold and detached. Instead of quietly alluring, it's just dreary.

Admittedly, Let Me In benefits from slick production values and impressive visual flourishes. Gorgeous cinematography courtesy of Greig Fraser is a particular highlight, and the compositions are frequently riveting; spotlighting Reeves's commitment to constructing his remake with a striking visual identity. But even with slick production values, the special effects are surprisingly substandard. In particular, the CGI for the attack scenes is more cheesy than effective, and may provoke laughter rather than screams. Speaking of the attack scenes, the general rule of thumb is that the less seen, the more response it provokes. Reeves eschewed this rule, and amplified gore elements just for the sake of it. Thus, there's more blood, more icky sound effects, and more direct violence. This does not achieve an increased level of fright, though - it instead makes Let Me In feel more generic and less masterful than its Swedish forerunner.

On a more positive note, the central performances of Let Me In are strong. Kodi Smit-McPhee (last seen in The Road) is perfectly believable as young Owen, who's burdened by realisations and feelings that no tween should be forced to confront. Smit-McPhee also displays a wonderful mix of boldness, shyness and fear. Alongside him, Chloë Moretz (a.k.a. Hit Girl from Kick-Ass) is arguably Let Me In's largest asset - she's chilling and well-nuanced. However, Moretz is perhaps too cute and attractive to play Abby since the character was envisioned as more androgynous in the original film. In the supporting cast, Richard Jenkins is predictably great, while Elias Koteas nailed the role of the detective.

As with any remake, those who see Let Me In without a familiarity with the original Swedish film will not understand what they're missing. While Let Me In looks slick and is at times striking to study, it remains a condensed, vanilla interpretation of the source material. There's absolutely no getting around the fact that Let Me In did not need to exist. Speaking in terms of versions of this story, Let Me In is not the right one.

5.4/10

Shot and produced by photographer Tim Hetherington and journalist Sebastian Junger, Restrepo is one of the most powerful filmic examinations of modern warfare. While embedded in Afghanistan for 15 months throughout 2007 and '08 (on and off) for a Vanity Fair assignment, Hetherington and Junger shot approximately 150 hours of video footage which was ultimately carved into this harrowing 90-minute documentary vacation into hell. Neither Hetherington nor Junger had worked in movies prior to Restrepo, yet their efforts are as rousingly cinematic as any action movie from 2010. Crucially, the pair had no axe to grind, no thesis to advance, and no political agenda - they simply aimed to document soldiers' lives in a war zone, providing movie-goers with an immersive experience to allow them to feel what it's like to be a soldier: to take and return fire, to patrol dangerous terrain, to deal with the loss of comrades, to live under harsh conditions, and to amuse one another during the rare moments when they're not living in fear. There are no politics here - just pure experience; capturing the raw commotion of military campaigns from a soldier's perspective.

The Korengal Valley in Afghanistan is heavily populated by hidden Taliban soldiers, and is thus perceived as one of the country's deadliest hotspots. In 2007, the men of Second Platoon of Battle Company were sent into the region, thus commencing an elongated deployment with the goal in mind of establishing a foothold in the hostile area. The platoon's base of operations is an outpost called "Restrepo", which was named after a beloved medic who was tragically killed early into the operation. As the unit spend the next 15 months of their lives struggling to bring a sense of progress to the valley, Hetherington and Junger's cameras capture the camaraderie, violence and aggravation of the soldiers. We see the men transition from "it can't be that bad" swagger to an outlook of "good firefight" to "I want to go home" fatigue.

Restrepo contains no pontificating, political critiquing, or narration. Context and background is not provided; rather, the filmmakers plunge viewers into the line of fire with the soldiers. There are a host of interviews provided on occasion, but that's it - the rest is on-the-scene footage of day-to-day life in the Korengal Valley, where a ride in a Hummer can come to a startling end with a dangerous firefight. The interviews with the men do not overwhelm the film, and the soldiers do not sentimentalise their experiences. Instead, the interviews add a simple grace note; a poignant reminder of "this really happened". Fortunately, the men of Second Platoon are a compelling bunch - they are refreshingly honest, not to mention smart and funny (a scene spotlights some back-and-forth between two men over walkie-talkies that has the spark and comic timing that most scripted comedies lack). We see the soldiers attempting to cope with the dangerous conditions through humour and camaraderie - they crack jokes, they bust balls, and they enjoy it when someone plays a corny techno song.

In a few moments throughout the feature, the filmmakers find themselves in the midst of a firefight against an invisible foe, and these sequences come across as terrifying and disorientating in a way that makes generic Hollywood war movies seem callow in comparison. One of the most stunning sequences of Restrepo comes after a firefight, as the cameras capture the immediate, unguarded, completely raw emotional aftermath that unfolds when the platoon lose a man. All of this material is far removed from material seen on the nightly news, where horrible events are usually scrubbed clean for mass consumption. Of course, the filmmakers baulked from capturing graphic images of casualties since they had to treat the deceased and wounded with respect, but this is forgivable.

While there's no outright political agenda, Restrepo does not ignore the mistakes which were made by the Americans. The platoon's new captain is shown attempting to reach out to the valley's tribal elders, and he makes no bones about his predecessor's misjudged operating procedure. Through showing meetings with the locals, the "collateral damage" of later scenes has repercussions and a face.

Admittedly, Restrepo is not perfect - at times the film is meandering, and at other times strangely detached when it should pack more of a punch. Also, the passage of time is not conveyed as effectively as it should have been (there are no subtitles to inform us of the month or year, so the gaps in time can be head-scratching). Despite these shortcomings, rarely has such an unfettered and harrowing look at war been offered to the mainstream public. Heck, the film would probably have still been gripping had it been a staged "found footage" film (in the vein of Paranormal Activity or Cloverfield), but the stakes are raised considerably by the fact that everything we see contains real people in real danger.

8.2/10

Reminiscent of 2009's The Road and Precious, the moviemakers behind Debra Granik's Winter's Bone were incapable of realising the distinction between profundity and plain old bleakness. Thus, Winter's Bone is yet another textbook implementation of the misplaced belief that "gritty, grim and real" automatically means that a film is a masterpiece. While Granik's picture indeed features a plethora of focused performances and a handful of gripping moments, nothing else exists to sustain interest or to prevent the narrative from descending into boredom and tedium. Plus, a number of hokey, contrived factors lethally hinder the "realism" approach. With the above in mind, I guess it's unsurprising that Winter's Bone earned an Oscar nomination for Best Picture, since it's long, boring, drawn-out, dull, and provides little enjoyment and thus minuscule replay value.

Set in rural Missouri, the protagonist of Winter's Bone is 17-year-old Ree (Lawrence) who has a lot on her shoulders. Ree is both the caregiver for her catatonic mother and the parental figure for her two younger siblings, and she must also keep the family's primitive cabin running as best she can. At the beginning of the story, Ree learns that her father skipped bail but put her family's farmhouse up as collateral, meaning Ree's dad must attend his scheduled court appearance the following week or the family will be left homeless. Thus, Ree sets off to hunt down her old man, meeting a host of frightening folk along the way, most of whom constitute her extended family. Suffice it to say, Ree's search for her father rustles up quite a few feathers amongst the locals.

The main problem with Winter's Bone is that the plot is powered by hopelessly contrived character behaviour. After the locals are impassive and unwilling to help Ree, they subsequently turn pointlessly brutal in the second act only to become implausibly helpful in the end. It doesn't help that the relationships between the characters are inadequately explained, generating confusion about how person B knows person A, and what (if any) bloodline they share. Also worsening matters is the dialogue, which often sounds much too screenwriter-esque. The narrative is rather weak, as well. A genuinely masterful thriller ought to have intricate details and intelligent surprises to keep you riveted throughout, but these necessities were lost on Debra Granik and co-writer Anne Rosellini. Granik succeeded in establishing a dark, at times engaging and even melancholic atmosphere, but the suspense gradually fizzles out. The mystery starts out intriguingly enough, but, on account of the implausible character behaviour and the meandering pace, interest dissipates long before the mystery is revealed.

Winter's Bone is set - and was filmed - in the Ozarks. To their credit, Granik and cinematographer Michael McDonough managed to capture the dejected beauty of the landscape in an effective way. The sense of place is visceral and occasionally gripping, and the detailed images are at times breathtaking to behold. Yet, the effect wears off quickly as the narrative continues to drag. Winter's Bone should have been enthralling and emotionally charged, but the filmmakers failed to achieve this - it's distanced and aloof when it should be involving and/or stirring. It was thus not able to captivate this reviewer to any commendable degree. The film did not need mindless Hollywood action elements, but instead more tension, intrigue, and a snappier pace. Additionally, for what's supposed to be a "gritty, grim and real" movie, Winter's Bone ends on an improbably optimistic note. Sure, a depressing ending would have been lacklustre as well, but it's even worse for the film's integrity to be sacrificed. Sorry, but give me movies like Toy Story 3 or The King's Speech over this malarkey any day of the week.

To the credit of the performers, the acting across the board is uniformly strong. For many (this reviewer included), this 2010 feature was the first opportunity to see the work of 19-year-old Jennifer Lawrence, whose career prior to Winter's Bone was relegated to small roles in TV shows and obscure movies. Winter's Bone represented her first chance to show her acting chops to a more mainstream crowd, and her performance is excellent, forceful and convincing. She is without doubt the strongest aspect of the movie, and she earned an Oscar nomination for Best Actress. Also of note in the cast is the excellent John Hawkes as Teardrop (who was also nominated for an Oscar), and Garret Dillahunt who's amiable as the sheriff.

At a running time of over 100 minutes, Winter's Bone lacks adequate intrigue and suspense, not to mention it drags and leaves you feeling underwhelmed despite well-nuanced performances and a richly atmospheric setting. It's also a problem for a "grim, gritty and real" movie to come off as contrived in the scripting department. While the Oscar attention is hardly surprisingly, all of the other acclaim the film is receiving is, frankly, head-scratching.

5.4/10

Essentially the Rocky of speech impediment movies, The King's Speech is an engaging, well-made period piece featuring excellent performances, sublime character nuances, a touch of wit and top-notch production design, and it was all stitched together by Tom Hooper's consummate direction. Not to mention, the film delivers solid drama with a rousing climax, and it manages to be a both highly satisfying and uplifting picture which achieves its dramatic potential without sacrificing historical accuracy. In short, it's precisely the kind of Oscar bait that's distributed each December, but it is nonetheless one of the most accessibly entertaining and satisfying films of its kind to be released during 2010.

Faced with the prospect of life in the public eye, the future King George VI (Firth) - a.k.a. Prince Albert or "Bertie" - is plagued by a severe stutter which constantly embarrasses both him and his judgmental family. With his wife Elizabeth (Bonham Carter) by his side, Bertie has endured numerous treatments for his verbal handicap, but to no avail. Until, that is, Elizabeth brings Bertie to see an unorthodox speech expert named Lionel Logue (Rush) who comes from Australia and treats the future king like any other patient. Thus is born an unlikely friendship, the importance of which escalates when circumstances conspire to make him the king of England on the eve of World War II. See, after the death of King George V (Gambon), Bertie's playboy brother (Pearce) abdicates his position as king in order to pursue his own interests, which thrusts Bertie into the role of leadership and public attention he never expected to bear.

Interestingly, the "Speech" of the title bears a double-meaning: it describes both the king's address to the nation which declares war against Hitler's Germany, and Bertie's impeded speech which he's fighting to overcome. Unfortunately, the story of King George VI working to overcome his impediment is intercut with Bertie's interactions with his father and his brother, which slows The King's Speech to a crawl during the midsection and sacrifices the intimacy of the extraordinary early scenes. While it may have been necessary to clarify these events, the refocus disrupts the pace and is not as interesting as Bertie and Logue's story. Luckily, things get back on track for the sublime final act, which pits Bertie against his worst fear: addressing his subjects over the radio.

The finale of The King's Speech not only represents the movie's climax, but also the moment in which all the elements of the motion picture come together: Firth and Rush's acting, Logue and Bertie's friendship, the strains of the classical score, and the stark simplicity of the set design (the room in which the speech is delivered is, after all, unadorned and unspectacular). The microphone is depicted not as a mere aid for voice amplification and recording, but as an implacable, faceless antagonist which Bertie must defeat by exorcising his personal demons. It is, in a word, extraordinary; leaving viewers with smiles on their faces, goosebumps all over their bodies, and lilts in their hearts. Additionally, the emotional power is considerably augmented by the fact that these events actually transpired in real life. This is indeed an amazing story.

While The King's Speech is a positive and life-affirming movie picture, director Tom Hooper (The Damned United, John Adams) and screenwriter David Seidler have crafted a picture which, at its core, is a story more concerned with the unlikely friendship forged between Bertie and Lionel. Quietly respectful of one another yet stubborn and set in their ways, it's undeniable that - because the couple are so distinctly separated by class and profession - they would never have grown such a bond were it not for Bertie's speech impediment. Added to this - although The King's Speech is a historical drama, an underdog story and a buddy movie rolled into one - there are plenty of humorous moments throughout which are never overdone or out-of-place. Every single frame of The King's Speech evinces a refined maturity as well as a professionalism rarely witnessed in this contemporary cinematic climate.

In their infinite wisdom, the MPAA chose to give The King's Speech an R rating, believing that the picture contains too many uses of the word "fuck". Admittedly, there are several profanities, but they are anything but gratuitous - they serve a very specific purpose within the context of speech therapy. This decision once again displays the MPAA's narrow-mindedness, since these profanities are the only reason the film is R-rated (there is no sex or violence). Heck, in England the film's rating was downgraded from a '15' to a '12A', as the BBFC were able to recognise that the inclusion of profanities was essential for the story.

As exceptional as the writing and directing is, The King's Speech is ultimately a performance piece which lives and dies by its cast. Luckily, all of the stars were up to the task. Leading the pack is the phenomenal Colin Firth, who rightfully deserves the highest praise of all the actors. It would seem Firth literally shed his skin and crawled into the skin of Bertie - we believe he is the role. Most impressively, the stutter was not overdone - it feels natural and real as opposed to faux and contrived. Alongside him, Geoffrey Rush is the perfect complement for Firth; his performance is effortlessly energetic, focused and charismatic. The chemistry between the stars is triumphant as well; essaying a stiff-upper-lip standoff between teacher and student which ultimately melts into an alliance. There's also no shortage of chemistry between Firth and Helena Bonham Carter, who is a delight as Queen Elizabeth. Bonham Carter is sharp-witted and whip-smart, but able to express great caring and humanity. Meanwhile, the secondary cast is populated by notable names, all of whom delivered sterling performances. Most notable is Timothy Spall, whose portrayal of Winston Churchill is more than a mere exercise in mimicry. Also of note are Michael Gambon and Guy Pearce as King George V and King Edward VIII, respectively.

With all of the film's superlative elements combined, The King's Speech illustrates by example how disappointingly lacking so many would-be dramas and Oscar contenders have been (Winter's Bone, anyone?). For the picky crowd, the film may play out a tad too simply, but this does not even slightly matter, nor does it dilute the thematic resonance. This is simply a magnificent motion picture; one of the very best films of 2010, and one that's so engaging and uplifting that it deservedly became a box office smash once word of mouth hit the streets.

9.4/10

If done right, a "man versus nature" disaster picture can effectively get the pulse pounding. Couple the sheer implacability of the antagonist with the difficulties of survival and a situation that's direr than that of a traditional thriller, and the result is usually an involving feature. 2011's Sanctum is a serviceable instance of an effective disaster movie in which the nail-biting set-pieces and technical competency outweighs the clumsy scripting and wooden acting. For the advertising campaign, James Cameron's name has been touted a lot despite merely serving as an executive producer. Though he's the focal point of the marketing campaign, it's unclear how much creative input Cameron actually had beyond lending his 3-D technology to the project. Sure, it's the type of story he would go for, but it's doubtful Cameron had much influence. After all, it's not three hours long and there's not a great deal of heart or emotion behind the material.

Sanctum is loosely based on an experience which befell co-screenwriter (and occasional James Cameron collaborator) Andrew Wight. Looking to explore one of the last unmolested areas of the world, no-nonsense expert spelunker Frank (Roxburgh) and his team have set up base camp at a Papua New Guinea cave system. Thrill-seeking playboy Carl (Gruffudd) is the one funding the operation, as he is looking to make his exploratory mark. Overworked and tired, Frank is joined on the last leg of his research by Carl himself, as well as Frank's son Josh (Wakefield) and Carl's inexperienced girlfriend Victoria (Parkinson). However, a bad storm hits the area and turns into a hurricane, and the rushing waters trap a number of assorted individuals within the treacherous, unexplored bowels of the cave. With the cave rapidly flooding, the group have no choice but to push forward in the hopes of finding another way to reach the surface.

Is it possible for a movie to overcome a lousy screenplay if it is otherwise an effective, technically proficient motion picture? In the case of Sanctum, the answer is yes. Sanctum's dramatic elements are consistently weak, with conventional, shallow characters, disaster film clichés, and predictable character relationships. The friction between Josh and Frank is constantly formulaic, and follows a generic path to a predictable conclusion. Likewise, the conflict between Frank and Carl (i.e. between the grizzled veteran and the inexperienced rich outsider) is predictable and usually ineffective. Clichés do not always instantly mean fail, but there's absolutely no depth to these stereotypical individuals, and, aside from Frank, the characterisations are stale and boring. Also, the dialogue is constantly on-the-nose and at times dangerously cheesy. It may be possible to like the characters due to surface-level attributes, but the disaster genre needs something more.

Yet, Sanctum looks gorgeous. Whether above or below the water, director Alister Grierson and cinematographer Jules O'Loughlin managed to capture some astonishing images of natural beauty. Whatever line exists between manufactured sound stages and authentic locations is imperceptible, and the authenticity of the proceedings will augment a viewer's claustrophobic apprehension. Additionally, when the characters close their mouths to allow for Grierson to get down to business with the action set-pieces, Sanctum positively comes alive. Consistently nail-biting, the central premise was ripe for tension-filled moments, and the film does not disappoint. Grierson was able to earn a lot of mileage from milking the riveting, unbearably intense predicaments the characters face. The sense of danger and urgency rarely relents, even when the end is ostensibly in sight. The pulse-pounding, atmospheric score by David Hirschfelder also amplifies the intensity. Added to this, Sanctum is an R-rated film which is not gory for the sake of exploitation but instead for the sake of realism. For once, the vision of a filmmaker has not been compromised to draw in a bigger audience with a family-friendly PG-13 rating.

As previously discussed, the marketing for Sanctum emphasises James Cameron's fingerprints on the project to siphon off the magic dust which was left behind by Avatar. Admittedly, it's a clever way to entice audiences, but it would seem Cameron had little to do with the movie - Sanctum is just an Aussie disaster movie with an influential fairy godmother. Of course, being yet another 3-D venture, the big question on everyone's minds is whether the extra dimension is worth it. Luckily, the film was not subjected to a quick post-production conversion, but was instead shot in 3-D, and it shows. The 3-D effects are not perfect, but they are impressive, not to mention a decent fit for the movie as it affords a sense of depth to the dense cave system. Plus, the dimness associated with 3-D is not much of a problem since Sanctum is a naturally dark motion picture. Nevertheless, the gimmick is inessential, and it's hardly worth the extra money.

The cast is a mixed bag. On the one hand, Richard Roxburgh (Moulin Rouge!) is effective as the badass, tough-as-nails Frank. From beginning to end, Roxburgh is focused and convincing, and he's a terrific tough guy who's somewhat reminiscent of Stephen Lang's Colonel Quatrich from Avatar. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Gruffudd played his playboy millionaire role with the temperament of a school bully and an unconvincing American accent. It would appear that Carl was modelled after Paul Reiser's role in James Cameron's Aliens, but Gruffudd is no Paul Reiser. All the rest of the stars seem like acting school dropouts for all the believability they bring to their roles.

From a purely technical standpoint, the ability to create an intense underwater picture of this sort in 3-D is commendable in itself. Fortunately, despite its shortcomings, the final product is both technically adept and a fine addition to the "man vs. nature" adventure genre. There are so many action-adventure movies released every year, but so few of them can generate any genuine excitement or tension. Therefore when a movie manages this, it's worth recommending. Sanctum is too wobbly in its foundation to be considered great, but it is well-crafted and impressively executed. Plus, beyond its value as a piece of popcorn-selling entertainment, Sanctum represents a marker for where the Aussie film industry is hopefully heading. It is indeed exciting to see Aussie filmmakers capably standing alongside their Hollywood counterparts.

6.8/10