Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Although 2010 was not a particularly memorable year for movies, it was an unusually terrific year for animated features. With Toy Story 3, Tangled, How to Train Your Dragon and even Megamind generating impressive acclaim and tremendous box office, 2010's animated offerings continued to demonstrate that cartoons are not just for children. But the dark horse of 2010's summer animation derby was Despicable Me, the first of many animated feature films from Illumination Entertainment. Written by Cinco Paul and Ken Daurio (2008's Horton Hears a Who!), Despicable Me is also the directorial debut for Chris Renaud and Pierre Coffin, both of whom previously worked in animation (Renaud was a storyboard artist on Robots and a couple of Ice Age sequels) before joining Illumination. Admittedly, with a comparatively meagre $69 million budget, the animation is not as polished compared to Toy Story 3 or How to Train Your Dragon (or even Shrek Forever After), and the feature lacks the dramatic relevance and poignancy of Pixar's regular output. Nevertheless, Despicable Me delivers what counts: it has heart, clever writing, and many big laughs.

Veteran supervillain Felonious Gru (Steve Carell) believes that he is the world's best supervillain, but the recent theft of Egypt's Great Pyramid of Giza by Gru's rival, Vector (Jason Segel), leaves him feeling inadequate and humiliated. Hoping to one-up Vector, Gru devises his greatest scheme to date: shrinking and stealing the moon. When he approaches the Bank of Evil to provide financial assistance to complete the scheme, bank president Mr. Perkins (Will Arnett) directs him to procure a shrink ray first. Working with elderly gadget mastermind Dr. Nefario (Russell Brand) and his trusty, crafty yellow Minions, Gru manages to steal the shrink ray from a Southeast Asian research base, but Vector ambushes the crew and takes it. Looking for ways to gain access to Vector's secure fortress to reclaim the shrink ray, Gru notices that his rival buys cookies from three orphan girls: Margo (Miranda Cosgrove), Edith (Dana Gaier), and Agnes (Elsie Fisher). In desperation, Gru adopts the three girls and hopes to use them as a Trojan Horse to distract Vector while he steals back the shrink ray. However, Gru soon bonds with the girls as he finds himself enjoying the lifestyle of a father, which diverts his attention from his moon heist and draws the ire of Dr. Nefario, who is concerned about distractions.

There is no better word to describe Despicable Me than "cute." It is almost unbearably cute: the Minions are cute, the orphans are cute, and Elsie Fisher's line deliveries are impossibly cute, saying things like, "He's so fluffy, I'm gonna die!". As with every good animated movie, Despicable Me includes simpler gags for the kids (including a Fart Gun and the orphans ruining Gru's presentation with a picture of him on the toilet) and sly jokes that only adults will understand. Indeed, the script features a darker brand of humour than the average family film - for example, after a spike-laden coffin closes on Edith, a red liquid trickles from underneath, and Gru simply says, "Well, I suppose the plan will work with two"...before he finds out that the spikes only impaled her juice box. Gru has a hilarious mean streak, seemingly cheering up a crying boy with a balloon animal before popping it, and later subtly threatening to kill his neighbour's dog for pooping on his lawn. Furthermore, the picture is refreshingly free of pop culture references, meaning that Despicable Me will not look as dated as certain other animated titles. However, while the animation is colourful and appealing, it is comparatively rudimentary, and it lacks the intricate textures of Pixar and DreamWorks productions. Thankfully, it barely matters because the movie still looks good, and the directors maintain an infectious energy and brisk pacing.

Renaud and Coffin imbue Despicable Me with Looney Tunes logic, going wild 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 side-splitting instead of depressing. The music is another enormously charming asset - the flick features two standout songs by Pharrell Williams ("Fun, Fun, Fun" and "Despicable Me"), who also worked on the bouncy, jubilant original score. Fortunately, the musician later contributed further music and songs to the franchise. The only real drawback of Despicable Me is that the third act feels formulaic, and the emotional arc is too on the nose. The story's trajectory and outcome are predictable, though this seems like a curmudgeonly thing to complain about since this is a family movie. At least Gru's inevitable transition from a supervillain to a father figure is funny, believable, and, yes, even heart-warming. Naturally, the picture lacks the maturity of Toy Story 3, but the film neither bores nor insults mature-age viewers, which is a big compliment for an animated family movie.

A visual blend of Uncle Fester from 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. On that note, the character designs across the board are iconic, with Gru, the Minions, Dr. Nefario and Gru's daughters looking instantly recognisable - hell, the Minions are probably the single most over-merchandised animated characters in history. Luckily, the voice cast gives vivid and engaging life to the characters, ensuring their voices are rich with personality. Steve Carell's vocal performance is excellent, with the actor's Gru voice a self-proclaimed mix of Ricardo Montalban and Bela Lugosi. Meanwhile, the three orphaned girls are derivative but charming, with Miranda Cosgrove (School of Rock, Drake & Josh) the most notable of the actresses. Meanwhile, Vector is a great villain - his actions carry an almost childlike mentality, and his boastful nature makes you want to see him get his comeuppance. Jason Segel's plucky and spirited vocal performance is a perfect fit. Russell Brand also lends his voice to the cast, and he is practically unrecognisable as Dr. Nefario.

Despicable Me is almost the complete package with its immense visual wit and combination of humour and heart, but it does fall short of perfection due to its slavish adherence to formula, particularly during the third act. It remains a hugely entertaining animated movie and an instant classic that does not diminish with age, and its flaws only emerge when it is placed alongside the best movies from within the animation realm. With the feature generating numerous sequels, a few Minion-centric spinoffs, short films, a web series, and a major media brand in general with endless merchandise of all shapes and sizes, it is refreshing to rewatch Despicable Me, which remains the strongest instalment in the franchise so far with its clean, engaging storytelling and sharp wit.

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

After 2009's surprise hit The Hangover, one would think that reuniting director Todd Phillips with the inimitable Zach Galifianakis would lead to another laugh-till-you-drop comedy. Add the tremendously talented Robert Downey Jr. to the equation, and Due Date's prospects would seem to be stratospheric - it'd have to be impossible for the film not to register as at least moderately amusing. But unfortunately, Due Date is proof that pedigree doesn't mean everything. Plus, due to its basic plot outline, it would be easy to compare Due Date to John Hughes' hilarious and heartbreaking 1987 feature Planes, Trains & Automobiles. Indeed, this could be considered a loose remake of Hughes' classic. But while Planes, Trains & Automobiles confidently stands tall as one of the greatest comedies of the '80s, Due Date comes off as a pale, uninspired rendition lacking in wit which will be easily forgotten in a few years' time.

With his pregnant wife Sarah (Monaghan) scheduled to undergo a C-section in a matter of days, irritable, tense businessman Peter Highman (Downey Jr.) plans to fly home to Los Angeles after finishing his Atlanta business tip. Unfortunately for Peter, he has a slight altercation on the plane with uncouth fellow passenger Ethan Tremblay (Galifianakis) which leads to both of them being kicked off the flight and placed on the no-fly list. Unfortunately, too, Peter's wallet (and thus his ID and money) is missing, so he has little choice but to pair up with Ethan (who's looking to make amends) on a disastrous cross-country car ride which severely tests Peter's sanity and limited good nature.

Galifianakis exhibits reasonable comic timing and delivers effective pathos during the more dramatic moments, but his character is nonetheless every bit as irritating as Peter perceives him as, and Peter's frustrations over his companion are perfectly understandable. Then again, Peter is not a nice guy himself since he both physically and verbally berates Ethan. Sure, dark humour works when done right, but Due Date is too uncomfortable and therefore sporadically boring throughout. Plus, while the deep affection and understanding that accumulates between Steve Martin and John Candy is evident in Planes, Trains & Automobiles, the friendship between Peter and Ethan in Due Date ultimately comes too late in the game and feels forced by the requirements of the generic script. It took four writers to assemble the screenplay for Due Date (Alan R. Cohen, Alan Freedland, Adam Sztykiel and director Phillips himself), yet the quartet missed the mark in their attempt to replicate the genuine humour and deep-seated humanity which characterised Planes, Trains & Automobiles.

People should be wary of comedy trailers - marketing executives tend to assemble a montage of the funniest moments in the movie being advertised, and leave out the comparative dross. Due Date is another case of this. That's not to argue the film is entirely devoid of laughs, as there are a few amusing gags (95% of which were seen in the trailers). Downey and Galifianakis admittedly share reasonable comedic chemistry, but this merely results in a few flickers of what this film could have been with a superior script (I suspect the on-set footage and outtakes are funnier than what wound up in the final cut). What's also disappointing is that, while individual moments earn a chuckle or two, there are no entire scenes which work. Rather, the laughs are tragically sporadic. In addition, there are several moments which are not just unfunny, but serious and uncomfortable. The serious material is ineffective because one only attends a film like this in the hopes of finding surface-level hilarity. If anything other than hilarity is on the menu, we're not interested - especially if there are serious moments which make us feel uncomfortable while we're watching the film.

For 2009's The Hangover, Galifianakis played his character of Alan with a well-timed balance of spacey and stupidity, resulting in a scene-stealing performance. Hollywood likes one-trick ponies, of course, so the role of Ethan Tremblay is essentially a bigger and broader version of Alan in a main starring capacity. The shtick, however, wears out its welcome rapidly here, and the material is simply not strong enough. Worse, Galifianakis is nowhere near as endearing or as lovable as John Candy was in Planes, Trains & Automobiles. Meanwhile, this is not Robert Downey Jr. at his best. Admittedly, the role of a straight man is not particularly challenging or fulfilling, but Downey lacks verve and energy as Peter. In thankless supporting roles, a wasted Michelle Monaghan is mainly seen talking on a phone, Jamie Foxx awkwardly shows up as Peter's friend Daryl but exits with little impact, and Danny McBride is unremarkable in his one single scene. Also in the cast is Juliette Lewis as a drug dealer named Heidi. Could Juliette's inclusion be a nod to Todd Phillips' earlier film Old School, where the actress also played a character named Heidi?

With most of the comic highlights and payoffs having been spoiled in the trailers, Due Date is not as funny as it wants to be, nor as emotional or as heartfelt as its occasional serious moments intend. Cars flip, dogs masturbate, and Peter is injured in various ways, but it's an awfully gloomy, boring drag because the material is pointlessly callous. Due Date is not deftly dark (like Bad Santa), but instead uninspired and uncomfortable. Nothing that happens to Robert Downey Jr. is even half as funny as anything that happened to him in his last buddy movie, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang...and that film wasn't even a comedy. Galifianakis is no Val Kilmer, let alone John Candy. Perhaps The Hangover will stand as a one-off phenomenon that filmmakers will constantly attempt to replicate with little success.

4.1/10

Out of all the sequels in recent years, it's doubtful anyone expected Paranormal Activity 2 to be any good. Hurriedly rushed into production after the original earned $195 million at the worldwide box office (from a $15,000 budget) and burdened by the usual negative perceptions of sequels (see the sequel to The Blair Witch Project), everything was working against this follow-up. On paper, these projects just do not work. Yet, 2010's Paranormal Activity 2 is a rare sequel/prequel that lives up to what came before it and works as an excellent companion piece to its predecessor. Since the material's appeal lies in conveying classic haunted house chills via the familiar home video medium, it was inevitable that this sequel would be derivative. Without branching off into different subject matter and aesthetic, the screenwriters (Michael R. Perry, Christopher Landon, and Tom Pabst) had little choice but to expand upon the central concept and conceive of a new scenario. They did exactly that, and pulled it off successfully. The film is not perfect, but moments of effective atmosphere-building and a number of big scares cancel out the most glaring flaws.

The story is primarily a prequel, with 90% of the events chronicled in this film taking place a short time prior to the occurrences of the original Paranormal Activity. The characters this time around are a married couple: Daniel (Boland) and Kristi (Grayden). Daniel is somewhat older, and has a teenage daughter named Ali (Ephraim) from a previous marriage. And Kristi is the sister of Katie (Featherston), who was one of the protagonists of the original film. Several months after welcoming a newborn baby named Hunter (played by the Prieto twins), the family are alarmed when they come home to a ransacked house. Assuming it was a break-in, they install surveillance cameras around the interior and exterior of their abode. Soon, spooky things begin to transpire around the household, which gradually escalate in terms of intensity and danger.

By revamping the first-person demon encounter premise and adding more characters, this is a dual prequel/sequel which not only offers clarity and back-story to the original but also a chilling vision of its own. Paranormal Activity 2 does not simply play it safe and lazily deliver a bunch of cheap scares. Instead, it expands upon the mythology of the first movie and represents an ideal companion piece. It's fundamentally a bookend for the original movie, too; it examines the niceties of the events preceding Micah and Katie's ordeal, and in the film's terrifying final few minutes it offers a glimpse of what transpires immediately after the original film. Naturally, room is left wide open for a third instalment in the series (which was officially announced a month after this second film entered cinemas and became a box office smash). If the third film is as clever and as satisfying as this second film, bring it on.

Like its predecessor, Paranormal Activity 2 entirely consists of supposedly found footage that has been spliced together. No opening credits or studio logos kick off the film - instead, there's just a title card thanking the local police and the families of the deceased, thus establishing the illusion of documentary realism. The "found footage" approach has been updated for this follow-up though - a large majority of the footage is derived from the home security camera system, while the family's camcorder provides supplemental snippets. This approach at least eliminates the usual "found footage" movie contrivance of someone always running around with a camera during the most severe and unlikely of circumstances. In fact, on the occasions when the characters do walk around with a camcorder, we never wonder why because the purpose is always clear. However, like in the original movie, there are jarring jump cuts, some of which occur during dialogue exchanges. It harms the naturalism approach, as it feels like the footage has been heavily tampered with.

2009's Paranormal Activity did a terrific job of incrementally elevating both the creepiness factor and the intensity factor with every scene, as well as generating an ominous atmosphere. These qualities are not fully retained here, unfortunately. The scares here are less subtle than those in the preceding film - Paranormal Activity 2 usually goes straight for the jugular with loud noises and quick payoffs. Fortunately, this is forgivable, because it merely represents a different method of scaring viewers, and this method is still scary. Thankfully, too, the scares are not as overblown as typical horror flicks which rely on loud scoring to generate scares. Minus musical accompaniment, Paranormal Activity 2 scares viewers through falling pans, toy trucks mysteriously moving on their own, slamming doors, and menacing figures visible in grainy night-time surveillance footage. Thus, while new director Tod Williams could not evoke the sheer terror that Oren Peli orchestrated in the original film, this sequel still delivers its share of tension and scares. However, the film is not taut enough - it's littered with dead weight. For instance, there are lingering shots of the pool every single day but nothing ever happens and there's no payoff. These shots are pointless, as they do not contribute to character building or the atmosphere.

With the film primarily functioning as a prequel, the protagonists from the original Paranormal Activity were provided with an opportunity to feature as supporting characters. Thus, Katie Featherston and Micah Sloat made their return here, and both are completely believable in their roles. The new slate of main characters are also convincing due to their naturalistic acting styles. In particular, Molly Ephraim (College Road Trip) is arresting as Ali, who records the goings-on with the family's camcorder and investigates the possible cause of the haunting. Brian Boland and Sprague Grayden are consistently focused, too. Boland in particular afforded a tremendous amount of intensity and believability to his role. These people actually feel like a real family, which is a huge achievement.

It would have been easy for a studio to throw tens of millions of dollars into this sequel and produce a special effects-laden horror film with glossy camerawork, but this would have betrayed what this franchise is all about. Instead, Paranormal Activity 2 shows restraint. Many will complain about the derivative nature of the narrative, but this seems like such an uptight thing to criticise since the story nonetheless comes together beautifully. It goes without saying, though, that if you detested the original movie and failed to see what the fuss is all about, you should avoid this sequel. Avid fans of Paranormal Activity, on the other hand, should seek out and watch this sequel at the earliest opportunity.

7.2/10

The Orphanage (a.k.a. El Orfanato) possesses a similar look and feel to other thrillers which originated from Latin American and Spain during the noughties, most noticeably Guillermo del Toro's The Devil's Backbone and Alejandro Amenabar's The Others. Going above and beyond the cheap, empty-headed trappings which plague mainstream supernatural horror films (such as 2007's The Messengers), The Orphanage is first and foremost a weighty, existential and shocking study of the frailty of life and the mysteries of death. Guillermo del Toro also served as a producer on this film, so it's therefore no surprise that it has been imbued with the same love of storytelling which makes del Toro's work so brilliant. See, unlike Hollywood's endless recycling of mindless slashers and remakes of Asian pictures, The Orphanage has an honest-to-goodness narrative. There is an art to spinning an effective scary yarn, and the makers of The Orphanage nailed this requirement.

The story begins with a scene set at an orphanage where a group of young children are playing a game. Little do the kids realise that the time has come for one of them, Laura, to leave and start life with a new family. Fast-forward thirty years or so, and Laura (Rueda) is a grown women with a husband named Carlos (Cayo) and an adopted son named Simón (Príncep). The story starts proper when Laura and her family move into the abandoned orphanage where she used to live. Their goal is to open a spacious, loving home for children with special needs; something near and dear to their hearts since they themselves are struggling to come to terms with Simón's own illness (he's HIV-positive). Soon, Simón starts making imaginary friends. However, when Simón suddenly disappears without a trace and Laura starts hearing mysterious noises within the house, Laura begins to consider that Simón's imaginary friends might not have been a figment of his imagination after all.

While the pacing is at times a tad clumsy, the resolution to the film is close to perfection - it represents a winning combination of hope and tragedy. The overall narrative is dense, and writer Sergio G. Sánchez managed to weave together a number of plot threads which combine at the end. With that said, though, the final scene is entirely unnecessary - the film should have ended on a bittersweet note and allowed room open for interpretation. Instead, the final scene leaves no room for debate and pushes the film into the realm of sweetness. Additionally, The Orphanage is at times distanced and vapid when it's clearly screaming to lunge out at the viewer. These moments are conceptually sound, but are lost in a picture in need of more concentration. This is perhaps a reflection of first-time director Juan Antonio Bayona's inexperience with feature films. On a more positive note, though, the film was hauntingly shot by cinematographer Óscar Faura.

As a ghost story, The Orphanage is similar in terms of plot to such films as Dark Water and Silent Hill. The difference, however, is the execution - The Orphanage is a more classical, tense thriller which instils a sense of asphyxiating apprehension. The picture is usually more unsettling than genuinely frightening, and gore is minimal. The scares are often of the nature of strange noises behind walls, odd apparitions appearing in the distance, and shocking images. It may seem accurate to label The Orphanage as a horror film, but it's almost unfair - there's almost nothing to connect it to the popular, "in-your-face" horror films which dominate the genre. There are no dazzling pyrotechnics or instances of impressive CGI on display here either since the movie relies on escalating tension, mystery, and the possibility of supernatural forces. Plus, the frights exist in the service of the story, not the other way around. The Orphanage is definitely a horror film that Alfred Hitchcock would've been proud of.

The Orphanage admittedly exercises more than a few horror film conventions, including parental separation from their kids, physical manifestations of emotional traumas, and otherworldly spirits. Fortunately, the story never seems to be rehashing the same old tired details in a stale fashion, even if they sometimes serve the immediate purpose of a scare or a shocking sequence. With that said, though, the hackneyed ideas usually seem fresh because they were wonderfully re-imagined by director Bayona - even the customary "don't go into the basement/dark place" moments are rendered compelling because they were treated with commendable sincerity and style. Part of the reason for this success is Sánchez's expert writing. Sánchez provided real motivation and clear logic for the actions of the characters, and the few jumps in the movie feel well-earned rather than purely exploitative.

The acting anchor of the film is Spanish television actress Belén Rueda, who received her first international exposure here. As Laura, she is amazing; fearlessly committing to the performance (she reportedly shed 10 pounds during filming) and carrying the entire film on her tense shoulders. She's mesmerising in virtually every scene; never playing the emotions too broadly, and drawing us in so we can see things from her perspective. All the American starlets who have sleepwalked through recent thrillers should hang their heads in shame. Alongside her, as Simón, young Roger Príncep is remarkable. Neither cloying nor artificially bratty, he is a believable child, and, when he exits the film, a viewer will feel Laura's loss and actively yearn to uncover what has happened to him. Also memorable is Geraldine Chaplin (daughter of Charlie Chaplin) who steals her screen-time in the role of a colourful medium called upon to investigate the supernatural presence which Laura insists is in her home. Rounding out the main players is Fernando Cayo as Laura's husband Carlos. Cayo's performance is natural and believable.

The Orphanage earned several nominations and awards at festivals, and a great deal of notoriety precedes it. While it's not quite as superlative as all of this might suggest, it's a solid horror movie. For those who enjoy good ghost stories and are willing to be patient with a film that gradually unveils its secrets rather than uncovering them in an orgy of gore, 2007's The Orphanage fills a need. Predictably, talks began soon after its release of an English-language remake; the kind of pillaging that should be outlawed by now. Do not wait for the version without subtitles, as this is the real deal, and boy is it a humdinger.

8.1/10

In the history of cinema, very few sequels are as loved or as acclaimed as 1991's Terminator 2: Judgment Day, writer-director James Cameron's follow-up to his 1984 science fiction thriller that helped to solidify Arnold Schwarzenegger's star status. Although the technical execution of Terminator 2 holds up decades later, it remains a hugely flawed blockbuster as a whole, and it looks positively garbage compared to its dark, horrifying predecessor. A family-friendly sequel, this follow-up set the template that is now followed by every PG-13 blockbuster today, with softened violence, a lighter tone, slipshod attempts at depth, and a lower body count. On top of this, Cameron's expansion of the franchise's mythology creates massive holes and logistical issues.

In the future, a holocaust known as Judgment Day brings about the end of the world, denoting the beginning of a war between machines (controlled by a network known as Skynet) and humankind. The human resistance is led by a man named John Connor (Michael Edwards). In the original film, Skynet sent a ruthless cyborg known as a Terminator back in time to kill John's mother, Sarah (Linda Hamilton), before John could be born. It failed. Thus, in Terminator 2, Skynet sends another Terminator - a more advanced model, a T-1000 (Robert Patrick) - back to the early 1990s to kill a ten-year-old John Connor (Edward Furlong). Naturally, future Connor also sends along a protector for his younger self; this time, a reprogrammed T-800 model Terminator (Schwarzenegger). On the run from the T-1000, John, his protector, and his mother begin working to destroy Skynet before its construction in the hope of preventing the rise of the machines.

With the hulking Schwarzenegger emerging as the hero here, Cameron needed another actor to assume the villain mantle. It would have been silly to attempt to out-bulk the enormous Austrian Oak; the T-1000 is instead the picture of ordinariness whose ostensible physical inferiority is compensated for in the nature of its construction: it's almost indestructible. Patrick excels as this new model of Terminator, with a cold, stoic demeanour which renders him an effective antagonist. The T-1000 is a cyborg comprised of "liquid metal" that can morph into physical objects or beings of similar size and can form knives out of its limbs. With the T-1000, Cameron took the chance to perfect the digital effects technology that the filmmaker had pioneered for The Abyss. Terminator 2 was not the first film to use CGI, but it was one of the first movies to use the tool in such a capacity. Of course, the digital effects are not as seamless as they once appeared back in the early 1990s, but they hold up quite well primarily because Cameron used them judiciously, mostly relying on old-fashioned practical effects and make-up. When Mr. Cameron spends a lot of money on a movie, all of it shows up on-screen. Also of note is the wonderful score courtesy of Brad Fiedel. The main Terminator theme at once haunts and entices, while all the supplemental music gets the heart racing.

Although entertaining and skilfully-assembled, Terminator 2's fatal errors stem from the script. Cameron's writing is hampered by countless cheesy lines, most notably derived from John's interactions with the T-800. As a direct consequence, the dark, edgy tone of the original Terminator is compromised. The violence of this sequel is toned-down, with Schwarzenegger unable to actually terminate anyone. Arnie makes more sense as a villain - he's an intimidating, well-built figure, and the "sweet, friendly cyborg" role is not a good fit for the Austrian Oak. It's especially disappointing to behold Arnie's T-800 firing a minigun at the police but being careful not to hit any of them or cause any casualties. Although Terminator 2 is rated R due to profanity and a few violent action beats, it does feel like Hollywood's first step towards sanitised PG-13 action movies - it unmistakably ushered in a number of conventions that dragged the genre out of the low-tech '80s and into the modern, high-sheen blockbuster territory of the 21st Century.

Furthermore, Sarah is too one-dimensional and overdramatic, though Hamilton does handle the material well enough. John, meanwhile, is whiny and fragile despite supposedly being a badass punk. Furlong's performance is a serious drawback, and he's especially awful during the cutesy interchanges in which he teaches the T-800 to talk like a wiseass. Even worse are the scenes in which Furlong weeps. Equally abysmal are the attempts at goofy humour and sweetness. The Spielberg-esque ending is out of place in this franchise, and other moments - like Arnie's attempt at smiling - are impossible to watch without cringing. Schwarzenegger's performance is focused, but the material fails to serve him. Plot holes exist in the feature, too. How did the liquid metal T-1000 get through the time portal without a covering of living tissue? In addition, there are inconsistencies - the Terminators are emotionless robots, so why does the T-1000 give us the world's greatest "Oh shit!" face right before its destruction?

Terminator 2 does further the mythology of this series, but the results are muddled and confusing. Why did the machines send the T-1000 to take out John as a boy when they could have sent one back to 1983 to kill an unsuspecting Sarah Connor? But if that did happen, then that would mean that the events of the original movie never took place because it is established that whatever happened due to time travel is what has always happened, what with the paradox involving Kyle Reese being John's father. It makes your head hurt. The first Terminator was a beautifully self-contained story, as it was established that the time displacement equipment was destroyed after Reese and the T-800 travelled back to 1984. How, then, can further time travel occur? More pertinently, why would Skynet stop sending cyborgs to kill John or his mother? Surely there's no kill attempts limit. Moreover, Judgment Day is ostensibly prevented here, which makes no sense because that would delay the birth of Kyle Reese and mess up the entire timeline. Perhaps Terminator 2 should have actually ended like its maligned sequel, 2003's Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, with the characters ultimately realising that Judgment Day is inevitable, accepting it, and watching it occur. That would have been a dark, haunting and powerful ending.

In spite of its gaping flaws, Terminator 2: Judgment Day will forever be remembered as the film that helped to redefine the summer movie experience, for better or for worse. Cameron's sublime skills as a filmmaker keep the movie afloat, but Terminator 2 still pales in comparison to its masterful predecessor despite being more polished.

5.9/10