Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Due to his work on the much-acclaimed live-action Lord of the Rings trilogy, Peter Jackson's name has become synonymous with the word "epic". Following his sojourn into Middle Earth, the question on everyone's mind was simple: where could Mr. Jackson go next? His decision to helm a reimagining of King Kong may have seemed like a strange choice for the filmmaker, yet it was a match made in cinematic heaven - Jackson's treatment of the classic story is an epic, entertaining and moving blockbuster. Jackson and his team have expanded upon the original 1933 movie to add welcome depth to the characters and present a whole new interpretation of the source material. While it clocks at a mammoth three hours - nearly two times the runtime of the 1933 film - Jackson's soulful, entertaining epic stays afloat for the entire show. Along with James Cameron and Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson is one of a select few Hollywood directors capable of understanding how to successfully marry emotion and spectacle.

Set in 1933 at the height of the Great Depression, stage actress Ann Darrow (Watts) is struggling to earn a wage. But a chance meeting with filmmaker Carl Denham (Black) permanently changes the trajectory of Ann's life. Carl also has his problems, though - his financiers have pulled the rug out from beneath him, and Carl is struggling to both finish his latest movie and find a leading lady to appear in it. After some arm-twisting, Ann accepts the job as Carl's leading actress, while Carl also cons his way into hiring a cast & crew and chartering a ship. However, Carl's people are oblivious to the fact that the filmmaker has set his sights on the mysterious Skull Island. During the voyage, screenwriter Jack Driscoll (Brody) takes a liking for Ann, and a romance begins blossoming between the two. Unfortunately, their fortunes take a turn for the worst upon arrival at Skull Island. The island natives kidnap Ann and offer her as a sacrifice to Kong; a massive ape who immediately becomes smitten with the blonde actress. Thus, the crew venture into the dense jungles of Skull Island on a mission to rescue Ann.

King Kong is a lavish, high-octane, epic action-adventure. The film was produced for a gargantuan $200 million, and every cent of it shows up on the screen. For Jackson, making this film was not just following up The Lord of the Rings, but also accomplishing a lifelong dream. Since childhood, Jackson has been enraptured with 1933's King Kong, and he attempted to make his own version when he first came to Hollywood in the mid-1990s. Flush with money and awards after the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Universal Pictures allowed Jackson to remake King Kong on his own terms. Like all personal projects, this particular flick ran the risk of not working, but Jackson's passion for the material fortunately did not dim his creative senses. Jackson opted to use the 1933 King Kong as his blueprint, and has greatly expanded upon it. The basic premise is similar, but the experience of Jackson's King Kong is wholly different. In fact, Jackson has produced what could be considered the definitive King Kong, as virtually every narrative possibility was explored here. People have complained about the three-hour runtime, yet no moment feels inessential. Granted, by the end of King Kong you feel like you've experienced a long motion picture, but that's the same with all epics, from Lawrence of Arabia to Gone with the Wind to Seven Samurai.

Instead of transplanting the story of King Kong into a contemporary setting, Jackson recreated the early 1930s backdrop of the original film. To the credit of the production team, the recreation of '30s-era New York is stunning, as are the lavish jungles of Skull Island, both of which were excellently rendered using a mixture of digital effects and intricate sets. Fortunately, the rest of the CGI effects are equally impressive; believably conveying a world of fantastic creatures and astonishing sights. With this film, Jackson set a new standard for visual effects advancements, as Kong and the dinosaurs were rendered using amazingly detailed, borderline photorealistic effects. If you're seeking pure eye candy, King Kong is the world's biggest candy store. Jackson's directorial efforts are similarly impressive - the extended action sequences on Skull Island are rousing and exhilarating, while the quiet moments are affecting. Some action beats do push the boundaries a little too much, but the set-pieces are always enjoyable nonetheless. Topping this off is James Newton Howard's powerful score. Despite having only seven weeks to compile the music, Howard managed to deliver several marvellous compositions that augment the epic feeling of the material.

The cornerstone of Peter Jackson's King Kong is not the action-adventure material, but instead the relationship between Kong and Ann. This is where the heart and soul of the movie is derived from, and where the film emerges as something more than a visual extravaganza. In the 1933 King Kong, Ann is terrified of the giant ape - he treats her like a plaything, and she both hates and fears him. In the 1976 version, a forced romance develops between the ape and the female protagonist, but it feels unearned. However, for Jackson's version, a tender, two-way relationship between Ann and Kong is meticulously developed over the course of the movie. Additionally, for all of the action and exhilarating destruction on display, the final section of the movie is essentially an affecting portrait of how cruel humans can be towards those we do not understand. It certainly helps that Kong was brought to life using phenomenal digital effects - his range of motion is superb, and his facial expressions are so sincere that it's hard to believe he is not real when you look into his eyes. Andy Serkis, who "played" Gollum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, lent his motion capture skills to Kong, and Serkis' performance is stunning.

As for the cast, all of the actors are impressive. Naomi Watts is a joy to behold as Ann Darrow; she's frequently ravishing, and she embodied the spirit of Fay Wray while also presenting her own interpretation of the role. Watts had the difficult job of convincing viewers that she's in love with a CGI creation, but she pulled it off with aplomb through sincere facial expressions. Meanwhile, as Carl Denham, Jack Black has received a lot of criticism, yet his performance works - he played it straight when the material called for it, and he was able to convey Carl's insanity with supreme effectiveness. And as Jack Driscoll, Adrien Brody is perfectly fine. While he's not an actor that one would typically think of to portray an action hero, Brody put in a solid effort. In the supporting cast, Thomas Kretschmann is a particular stand-out - he's a show-stealer whenever he's on-screen as Captain Englehorn.

As an epic action-adventure, King Kong excels tremendously. All of the technical aspects are top-drawer: the cinematography, James Newton Howard's score, the digital effects, the pacing, the action sequences, and the direction. And as an emotional journey, King Kong is still a success. It's a terrific piece of entertainment, but it also has a soul. King Kong is 2005's biggest and best blockbuster, and - in the shadow of Roland Emmerich's Godzilla - Jackson's film proves that it is possible for a classic monster to make a triumphant re-appearance. And what of the extended edition of the film, I hear you think? It adds a bit of interesting footage, but nothing feels truly essential. Plus, the swamp scene is marred by atrocious underwater effects. The extended cut is only for established fans.

9.2/10

The notion of a fourth Resident Evil flick will almost certainly induce heart-scratching, especially considering that the preceding films in the series were panned by viewers and critics alike, and the franchise has been spluttering on life support for years. However, the first three Resident Evil flicks were successful from a commercial standpoint, which is all that matters in Hollywood. Thus, 2010's Resident Evil: Afterlife was produced in an attempt to recharge the franchise, with Paul W.S. Anderson returning to direct and with the movie being captured in 3-D to bring the blood-soaked zombie mayhem into your lap. It's a polished, slick effort for sure, but it's deathly dull and joyless. Worse, writer-director Anderson was so concerned with handling the technically advanced cameras (the same cameras used for Avatar, in fact) and servicing the 3-D format that he gave absolutely no thought to such essentials as story, character and suspense.

In the first Resident Evil movie, the Umbrella Corporation unleashed a rampaging virus that decimated the planet by turning most of the population into flesh-eating zombies. At the end of the third movie, Alice (Jovovich) created an army consisting of clones of herself. Thus, Afterlife opens with Alice and her army attacking the Umbrella Corporation Headquarters in Tokyo, which ends with the clones going up in flames along with the building and the employees. Afterwards, Umbrella boss Albert Wesker (Roberts) injects the real Alice with a serum that revokes her super powers and makes her human again. After a subsequent plane crash from which Alice magically walks away unscathed, she heads to Alaska in the hope of finding the promised safe haven from the world's zombie takeover. Alas, no such haven exists. And it's here when Alice reteams with Claire Redfield (Larter) who's mysteriously stricken with amnesia. In searching for more signs of life, Alice and Claire end up in Los Angeles where they encounter a group of survivors - including Claire's brother Chris (Miller) - who are holed up in a prison facility and are seeking rescue.

The only true upside of Afterlife is the 3-D visuals, which are crisp and clear; emphasising the fact that all of the action was in fact captured in 3-D rather than shoddily converted in post-production. Clearly, Anderson embraced the dimensional possibilities while staging a plethora of Matrix-style action sequences, with the mayhem being frequently slowed down to allow for a viewer to study every last flip and weapon discharge in glorious detail. Additionally, to the writer-director's credit, Anderson hired the excellent "Tomandandy" to score the zombie mayhem, and the music adds an energetic backdrop for all the action. Yet, while the visuals are striking, the film seems like more of a special effects demo reel than anything more substantive. Alas, Anderson clearly had no clue about how to build tension, create an atmosphere of menace, or generate thrills. No interest in the horror genre is displayed here, as Anderson instead favoured decade-old action movie conventions to see the film through. Unfortunately, too, slow motion effects were overused to the point of nausea. Indeed, if the slow motion techniques were excised, it's doubtful that the film would've been longer than an hour.

Striking visuals are pretty much all there is to the Resident Evil: Afterlife experience, which suffers from some of Anderson's most inane scripting to date. In addition to the often woeful dialogue, Anderson opted to forgo atmosphere-building or any intriguing exploration of the zombie-crawling city in favour of dreary expositional scenes set indoors, with the forgettable ensemble of characters going through the dull paces on dull soundstages. The narrative momentum of Afterlife is akin to a car that's spluttering on petrol fumes. The pacing is even sluggish during the action scenes, and narrative surprises are non-existent. And, on top of the fact that nothing of note actually occurs in the film, the material is rather incoherent. Take, for instance, a battle between Claire and a hulking, hooded monster wielding a massive hammer. Who or what is this unstoppable beast? Does it work for the Umbrella Corporation? If it's a zombie, then why, unlike other zombies, is it able to use weapons? None of this stuff is addressed, since the giant was only introduced to show off more special effects and 3-D showmanship.

Added to this, it doesn't help that Milla Jovovich (Anderson's wife) is hopelessly bland in the central role of Alice. Jovovich seems unaware that it's possible to be badass and have a personality at the same time, and thus her delivery of various quips ring hollow. She's capable of handling the physical demands of the role, but everything else is lacking. (As a side note, since Jovovich is scrumptious eye-candy and is married to Paul W.S. Anderson, the Resident Evil flicks should simply be subtitled Check Out My Ridiculously Hot Wife.) Ali Larter and Wentworth Miller are serviceable as the Redfield siblings, but they were denied the chance to spend much screen-time together or do much bonding - as a matter of fact, it's the film's biggest missed opportunity. The weakest link of the cast is Shawn Roberts as Wesker, whose line delivery is both appalling and perpetually contrived.

Perhaps all of these criticisms should not come as much of a shock to anyone who's familiar with the Resident Evil films so far. Ever since the second instalment, the films have been concerned with providing constant action sequences in locations reminiscent of the video game landscapes. While Afterlife provides a few worthwhile moments and is impressive from a visual standpoint, it's nonetheless a groaning bore that only rarely comes to life. This film is a mess. It's action for the sake of action, but there's hardly any fun in it.

4.3/10

2010's Jonah Hex was the victim of severe studio interference, and the hallmarks of this fact plague the final product - it runs a scant 70 minutes and features choppy editing, neutered violence, and an often incoherent narrative. Another failed attempt to launch a DC Comics character for the big screen, the movie is paper-thin, with the plot stripped to its barest essentials and characters as shallow as a puddle in the desert. Indeed, it is doubtful that the theatrical cut actually represents the vision of anyone behind the production. And if this is the true vision of director Jimmy Hayward or the screenwriters (Crank masterminds Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, who were set to direct but quit over creative differences), what the fuck were they thinking? Especially from a tonal standpoint, Jonah Hex is a goddamn mess - it's part spaghetti western, part supernatural tale, part black comedy, and part action film, yet it does not work as any of them. It is a tragic waste of time and talent.

Based on the DC Comics character created by John Albano and Tony Dezuniga, Jonah Hex concerns the titular bounty hunter played by Josh Brolin. During the Civil War, Hex turns on his psychotic superior, Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich), by refusing a direct order to burn down a hospital before killing Turnbull's son, Jeb (Jeffrey Dean Morgan). In retaliation, Turnbull murders Hex's family and scars his face. Due to the resuscitative efforts of the local Native Americans, Hex survives the attack and receives the ability to speak with the dead. Although Hex desires revenge, Turnbull fakes his death in a hotel fire. Fast forward a few years, and Hex has become a notorious bounty hunter. However, President Grant (Aidan Quinn) calls Hex into military duty after Turnbull's men hijack a train and steal the components for an experimental weapon. See, Turnbull is assembling an anachronistic super-weapon capable of destroying America, and he plans to enact his plan on Independence Day.

At the very least, this big-screen Jonah Hex features solid production values across the board, including intricate costumes, lavish art direction, robust digital effects and impressive make-up, with Brolin's transformation into the scarred Jonah Hex looking particularly terrific. With this in mind, and with the reliable Brolin in the lead, Jonah Hex should have been one hell of a movie, but instead, it's one hell of a mess. Notorious reshoots aside, the four credited editors butchered the flick in the editing room, resulting in a barebones final cut. One crucial problem is that it's difficult to properly care about anything that occurs. For a viewer to become invested in Hex's quest to kill Turnbull, it is imperative for the film to properly convey a tragic sense of loss. Even exploitation action movies like 2007's Death Sentence effectively manage this by showing the protagonist with his family before their demise. Alas, Jonah Hex does not show Hex interacting with his family before their deaths - in fact, there is only one brief shot of them before Turnball murders them. Without proper investment in what occurs, the film amounts to an empty technical exercise that even underwhelms as pure entertainment.

Worse, the mythology behind the character of Jonah Hex is lost amidst the careless, overzealous editing and hasty reshooting. According to Brolin, the crew reshot 66 script pages in just 12 days under the direction of Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I Am Legend), which explains why the final product feels so slapdash. Hex's supernatural powers distinguish him from similar vigilantes, but the "one foot on earth, the other foot in hell" aspect of his character is tragically half-baked. There is also minimal consistency regarding Hex's abilities. Towards the film's beginning, he dodges bullets and moves with superhuman speed. Later, he has trouble fist-fighting just one guy. Additionally, Hex uses high-tech weapons just once but never bothers to use them again. And if the Native Americans can heal bullet wounds, why can't they heal Hex's face as well? On top of this, there are cutaways during a battle sequence to an otherworldly brawl between Hex and Turnbull that is unnecessary and confusing. As a consequence, you do not end up caring about either struggle.

It was perhaps ill-conceived to let Jimmy Hayward - the director of 2008's Horton Hears a Who - direct this gruff comic book adaptation. Hayward is clearly out of his element here, though this could be more of a reflection of the studio interference that mangled the narrative beyond the point of satisfying coherence. Neveldine and Taylor clearly wrote Jonah Hex with an R rating in mind, but, according to Hayward, the editors carefully finessed the final cut to retain their desired PG-13 rating, resulting in awkward cutaways and a jarring editorial rhythm. Thus, people are killed, but their deaths lack viscera. And despite the protagonist being a badass, Hex never swears. Worse, one sequence depicts Hex at some sort of pro wrestling event where cowboys are watching two beastly humans fighting in a pit. Hex is disarmed and thrown into the pit with the monsters, but instead of a brutal fight scene, the film immediately cuts to a sequence of Hex departing the arena after having beaten the fighters off-screen. A PG-13 rating can work, but it's a problem when the film is visibly pulling punches. If a movie is about a stone-cold killer, shouldn't it be logical for us to see his work?

To his credit, Brolin (who regrets participating in the production) is an excellent Jonah Hex, and Malkovich does a fine job as Turnbull. Those two give it their all, but their performances cannot enliven the terrible material. Meanwhile, Megan Fox is merely on hand to provide eye candy as Hex's love interest, a gun-toting sex worker named Lilah. Although easy on the eyes, her performance is awful. Her role lacks meaty characterisation, and her screen time is so limited that it would not have been hard to eliminate her from the film altogether without any negative impact on the story. The supporting cast features several recognisable names, including Aidan Quinn, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Michael Fassbender, Lance Reddick, Will Arnett, Wes Bentley and other familiar faces. Unfortunately, the film utterly wastes them.

It would be hard to fault the concept behind Jonah Hex, as the notion of a badass 19th-century vigilante kicking ass is bursting with potential, but the resultant film suffers from dreadful execution and questionable creative decisions. A few scenes are admittedly enjoyable, but, taken as a whole, the film does not work. There are too many holes, too many cutaways, too many loose ends, and too many undeveloped elements, in addition to all of the untapped potential for R-rated badassery.

2.3/10

For those who witnessed the faux Machete trailer at the beginning of the Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez double bill Grindhouse and wished it were a real movie, your prayers have at long last been answered. And, happily, Machete is actually good; a delirious, irresistible blast of R-rated mayhem benefitting from top-notch filmmaking techniques, a tongue-in-cheek social commentary, and an obvious affection for schlocky movies of the '70s and '80s. Directors Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis knew exactly what the fans wanted with this feature-length expansion, and went wild to deliver everything one craves from an exploitative B-movie: over-the-top, graphic violence, scenery-chewing villains, plenty of cheese, a plethora of one-liners, and some female nudity. It's destined to leave you with a big dumb grin on your face.

The titular Machete (Trejo) is a former Federale whose life and career comes crashing down when his family is killed by ruthless drug kingpin Torrez (Seagal). Three years later, Machete has taken to the life of a day labourer who becomes lost amidst the millions of Mexican faces in south Texas. Much like the events seen in the original faux trailer, Machete is offered $150,000 by a shady businessman (Fahey) to assassinate United States senator John McLaughlin (De Niro), but finds himself to be a patsy in a setup designed to make the senator a more sympathetic figure. As it turns out, Torrez is also involved with the senator scheme. When Machete learns of Torrez's involvement, he and his compatriots declare war on McLaughlin's new world order, and begin arming themselves with an array of deadly weaponry.

Like Rodriguez's Planet Terror, Machete is a campy contemporary take on the excesses of classic schlock cinema. Rodriguez and his crew have crafted a tongue-in-cheek, amusing blood-soaked tale of vengeance and conspiracy which tracks Machete as he encounters all types of corruption and idealism. The only questionable aspect of Machete is that Rodriguez chose to use this sleazy exploitation epic as a platform for political grandstanding - the film denigrates U.S. immigration policy, and addresses it in an anything-but-subtle way. All of the speechifying slows down the frenetic pace from time to time. I'd rather sit back and enjoy the silly R-rated carnage, not be challenged by any profound underlying themes. Granted, it's easy to overlook these shortcomings and enjoy the movie, but it could've been tighter and more enjoyable had this political content been excised or cut down.

Thus, while Machete is slightly overstuffed and overlong, the film really works when it buckles into its groove, goes for the jugular and embraces its pedigree. This is a motion picture specialising in the ridiculous and the insane, and the more insane it gets, the more fun it is. Happily, the action is coherent, devilishly enjoyable and constantly exhilarating. This is thanks in large part to Robert Rodriguez, who's so good at handling these types of movies that he should stop making god-awful kiddie flicks (like Shorts) and focus on giving the world more awesome films like Machete. Naturally, it's impossible to take anything seriously here (not even the death of Machete's family) but this is to be expected. The tone is spot-on, with the film asking us to take all of the absurdly over-the-top proceedings with a grain of salt.

It's interesting to note that significant chunks of the Machete were reportedly filmed in 2007 for the faux trailer, while the "fill in" segments were filmed more recently for this feature-length expansion (certainly, most of the stuff from the trailer seems to be here). If this is the case, the seams are not visible. Also note-worthy is the fact that Rodriguez chose not to give the movie a lot of scratch damage (like in Grindhouse) to give the impression that it has been locked in somebody's basement for decades. The movie's opening sequence has scratch damage, but the technique was subsequent abandoned for the remainder of the flick. The scratch damage technique would've made the film more enjoyable, for sure, but its absence remains a relatively minor flaw. However, the colour scheme throughout the film seems to resemble schlocky cinema from the '70s and '80s, which is a welcome aesthetic decision.

Danny Trejo has long been one of Rodriguez's go-to actors, and he's absolutely perfect for the role of Machete. Trejo played the material straight despite its ludicrously over-the-top nature, and his delivery of one-liners such as "Machete don't text" are priceless. He was born to play Machete, with his craggily face and badass presence evoking memories of Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin. The star has played supporting characters for many years now (and has nearly two hundred credits on his acting résumé), but this is the iconic role he will likely be best remembered for. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is comprised of the most random selection of famous actors in recent memory, but everyone nonetheless hit their mark. Robert De Niro was game for the tone that Rodriguez and Maniquis were aiming for, and he's frequently amusing. Similarly, Cheech Marin was a terrific choice for the gun-toting priest, and his scene to shine is awesome. Michelle Rodriguez and Jessica Alba are also convincing in their respective roles, while Jeff Fahey and Don Johnson chewed the scenery as memorable villains. Steven Seagal's performance is notably terrible (is he meant to be Mexican?), but he's at least well-suited to the nature of the role. Rounding out the cast is Lindsay Lohan, who features here as a drugged up slut. It's doubtful Lohan was even acting...

In its own way, Machete definitely works. For my money, this is some of the purest fun to be released during 2010, along with The Expendables, Kick-Ass and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. It pretty much delivers both what it promised and what fans of the faux trailer yearned for. Granted, if you're not an action fan and if you found the faux trailer to be repugnant, there's nothing you'll enjoy here. But if you loved the faux trailer, there's a good chance you'll love the whole thing. When the film's end credits tout the possibility of two sequels - Machete Kills and Machete Kills Again - it's virtually impossible not to feel a tinge of giddiness at the prospect.

8.2/10

2010's The Social Network is a two-hour motion picture consisting almost entirely of dialogue that's about nerdy guys from Harvard who write computer code, get rich and sue each other. Literally, that's The Social Network in a nutshell. And yet, this is easily one of the most exciting, enthralling and compulsively watchable movies of 2010. How does that work, I hear you think? It's simple: great actors, great screenwriting and great filmmaking. Written by Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing) and directed by David Fincher (Zodiac, Fight Club), the film manages to flesh out a gallery of fascinating characters while chronicling several key events in the development and growth of the popular social networking site Facebook. Additionally, through mining Facebook's origin story, Sorkin and Fincher have produced a motion picture that's about far more than its ostensible subject matter.

Essentially, the film consists of a series of flashbacks to illustrate the testimonies being provided in depositions for two separate trials which were held during the latter half of the 2000s, both of which involved Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg (Eisenberg). When we first meet Zuckerberg, he's a Harvard student whose girlfriend Erica (Mara) is breaking up with him. Afterwards, Mark strikes back with a productive evening of hacking and coding, resulting in a website sensation which humiliates the female students and crashes the Harvard servers. This attracts the attention of a trio of upperclassmen, who hand Mark the task of creating a social interaction site for the school. However, this idea gives Mark the inspiration to create a website called 'The Facebook', which is funded by Mark's only friend Eduardo (Garfield). It rapidly explodes in popularity. Soon, Napster founder Sean Parker (Timberlake) swoops in to take command of the newly renamed Facebook. Sean's involvement alienates Eduardo but provides Zuckerberg with the tools to elevate Facebook from a dorm room project to a worldwide phenomenon.

Sorkin based his script for The Social Network on Ben Mezrich's book The Accidental Billionaires, which is a distillation of countless interviews that were transferred into narrative form. It's interesting to note that Mezrich's primary source for the book was Eduardo, so the events depicted in the book - and, thus, the movie - are understandably slanted towards his point of view. This fact was publicly brought out by Zuckerberg, who also refused to cooperate with Mezrich while he was conducting research for the book. Nevertheless, both the novel and the cinematic interpretation can be said to represent a reasonable account of how Facebook came into being since few of the historical events are in dispute. Throughout the film, Mark's cavalier nature while assembling the site and putting it online is especially interesting. It becomes clear that the concept is not entirely his, but he believes to be entitled to full ownership because he developed the codes and put in all of the work. A viewer is left to decide for themselves what constitutes intellectual property theft, and, more directly, whether Zuckerberg did in fact steal Facebook.

On paper, The Social Network sounds dull. However, the picture received a considerable kick from Aaron Sorkin's exceptional skills as a wordsmith. The Social Network is a whirlwind of talk, and the intelligent, fast-paced dialogue is as exciting as any action sequence from Iron Man 2 or Kick-Ass. David Fincher is not exactly the first filmmaker one would think of to handle Sorkin's wordy script, but the pairing is unexpectedly ideal; Fincher and cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth brought the script to life with moody autumnal imagery which adds depth and dimension to the narrative. With The Social Network, Fincher also further proved his skills as a visually gifted filmmaker, as well as continuing to demonstrate that he's just as adept with characters and story as he is with camerawork. The tense score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is equally beneficial for ensuring viewers never lose interest, too. Granted, a few sequences within the film were ruined by unnecessary visual showmanship (including a flashy rowing race in England), but Fincher otherwise played the material low-key; allowing Sorkin's excellent dialogue to speak for itself and letting Mark's on-screen behaviour be the film's primary special effect.

Maintaining momentum throughout the film is the fast-talking speech pattern adopted by most of the actors. The role of Mark Zuckerberg was ripe for caricature, but star Jesse Eisenberg humanised the character in this career-best performance. Eisenberg, who has existed below the radar for several years now, can never again be labelled as a Michael Cera clone after this film. The actor adeptly conveyed Zuckerberg's anger, hurt and brilliance, as well as the man's vulnerability, arrogance and impatience. Alongside him, Andrew Garfield imbued his role of the wounded Eduardo Saverin with warmth and humanity. Another standout performer here is singer-turned-actor Justin Timberlake as Sean Parker. Timberlake has never been more energetic or charismatic on-screen - he's a genuine movie-stealer. Meanwhile, Rooney Mara (2010's A Nightmare on Elm Street) makes an impact despite limited screen-time, and she's every bit as brilliant as her co-stars.

Ultimately, The Social Network is not a fully rounded picture since it takes a few shortcuts and is thus not definitive. That aside, this is an assured masterpiece, and one of the greatest pictures of 2010. Where Inception and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World dazzled audiences with impressive special effects, The Social Network plays a far more restrained game yet is somehow no less exciting. This is a gripping, expertly made and wonderfully performed character study that conveys a modern story with some classic, almost Shakespearean themes. You do not have to be a Facebook member to enjoy what this movie offers.

9.3/10

The Horseman is an Australian addition to the long line of "vigilante dad" films that stretch back to Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring, in which a father - normally either a widower or a divorcee - is made a tad nutty by grief, and begins ruthlessly slaughtering those responsible for a crime against a loved one. In essence, The Horseman represents a throwback to the type of old-school, badass revenge thrillers born from the same cinematic school that also gave the world Mad Max, Chopper and Romper Stomper. Make no mistake: this picture is repugnant, violent, gory, challenging, and difficult to love. With that said, though, The Horseman is an easy film to admire, and, if you can stomach extreme gore, easy to enjoy.

Christian (Marshall) is a blue-collar Aussie bloke from Queensland, Australia working as a pest controller who learns that his daughter has died as the result of a heroin overdose. Shortly after, an anonymous parcel arrives in the mail containing a Z-grade porn movie featuring his deceased little girl, who was obviously so drugged up during filming that the sexual acts could be construed as rape. Shattered and enraged, Christian sets out with toolkit in hand on a crusade of revenge to find those responsible and enact bloody vengeance. Along the way, Christian encounters and strikes up a friendship with a teenaged hitchhiker named Alice (Marohasy) who is inexorably pulled into his quest.

Writer-director Steven Kastrissios made his feature debut with The Horseman, and did a fantastic job of letting the movie unfold in a tight non-linear fashion. The subplot involving Alice - who acts as a kind of surrogate for Christian's lost daughter while also being a similarly lost soul - anchors the film and provides a welcome sense of humanity in between the bursts of violence. Yet, while the movie does contain more character development than most films of this ilk, The Horseman is nonetheless somewhat lacking in this department. Most of the film is dedicated to torturing and brutal fights, and one gets the sense that the film could have been superior had it focused a bit more on the characters. Kastrissios has reportedly acknowledged that the original cut of The Horseman was two-and-a-half hours long; a full hour longer than the film in its theatrical form. Kastrissios also admitted that the missing scenes focused exclusively on character growth and exposition. Thus, a far superior edit of the film likely exists.

The Horseman is as unsettling as any Saw or Hostel-style romp, yet it's far more gripping. The movie is also a visceral, peek-through-your-fingers experience - in particular, one scene containing an interrogation and a urethra examination with a bike pump will cause every male viewer to involuntarily place their hands over their laps as a protective shield. Director Kastrissios, who also edited the film, clearly learned his genre lessons well - he knew how to competently film action and fight sequences with a gripping, gruesome flair. And the fights here are not stylistic or beautiful - they feel unrehearsed. They are savage brawls fuelled by rage and a desire for survival, and can be painful, albeit exhilarating to watch. The camerawork is suitably grim, and thus the tone of the visuals fits the story extremely well. The majority of the film takes place at night, in the dark, or in dirty, soiled locations, reflecting the ugliness of the material. However, there are minor technical imperfections and awkward moments from time to time that draw attention to the movie's low-budget nature.

At the centre of all the action is the fascinating character of Christian; a realistic, believable anti-hero who makes mistakes and continually proves himself to be human. He's not a skilled secret agent or an unstoppable force - he's a regular bloke and a loving father looking to take out his grief and rage on those responsible for his daughter's death. Each clash is an effort, and each fight is a rough mess whereby regular household items become lethal weapons. Never before has the average toolbox provided such a deadly arsenal. Added to this, towards the film's end, Christian gradually begins to realise that everyone - himself included - is guilty in his daughter's death, and he struggles to find someone to blame. It's a commendable, thought-provoking twist on the usual vigilante movie formula. Not to mention, it's easy to relate to Christian's situation. Fortunately, Peter Marshall's emotionally-charged performance as Christian is an absolute tour de force. Alongside him, Caroline Marohasy is alternately vulnerable and resolute as Alice. Meanwhile, the bad guys, as can be expected, are little more than empty ciphers, but each of the actors portraying the antagonists are wholly convincing.

Is The Horseman original? No, not at all - speaking from a narrative perspective, it's a very standard fare which borrows liberally from Death Wish and other vigilante flicks, with the clichés being thrown into a uniquely Australian setting to distinguish it from similar productions. Yet, this picture remains a tough-as-nails, badass revenge flick that pulls no punches. It's not a film for the family or for the moderately squeamish, but action junkies should tremendously enjoy The Horseman.

7.9/10

When Gone Baby Gone entered multiplexes in 2007, Ben Affleck soared from a tolerable star with a tattered professional reputation to an unexpectedly graceful filmmaker. Much like his directorial debut, a lot was riding on Affleck's follow-up effort, 2010's The Town - and, more directly, there was a lot riding on Affleck himself. For one, the actor had to prove that Gone Baby Gone (one of the best movies of 2007) was not the Hollywood equivalent of a one-hit wonder, and he also had to overcome the fresh new challenge of directing himself; a potential hazard he prudently avoided the first time around. Affleck was up to the challenge, however, and the result is this compelling, masterfully-realised crime saga that's worthy of Michael Mann's Heat. To be sure, The Town was put together using a litany of familiar genre elements, but the manner in which Affleck assembled the clichés results in an engrossing two-hour cinematic experience. Affleck afforded a spellbinding pulse to the proceedings; composing a bravura suspense piece that effectively examines the anxiety of criminal behaviour.

An opening caption prefacing The Town states that the neighbourhood of Charlestown, Boston has produced more bank robbers and armoured car thieves than anywhere else in the world. Also, bank robbing in Charlestown is passed down from generation to generation like any normal trade. The protagonist, Doug MacRay (Affleck), is from such a family. Doug leads a troubled life, pulling off bank and armoured truck robberies with a number of loyal comrades. When one heist goes slightly askew, Doug's hot-headed partner James (Renner) takes bank manager Claire (Hall) as a hostage, and only releases her once the coast is clear. Feeling guilt and attraction for Claire, Doug attempts to develop a relationship with the frightened woman partly as a way to keep tabs on her while the FBI carries out an investigation. As they begin to fall for each other, Doug prepares to pull off what he intends to be his final bank heist before skipping town. However, his troubles are just beginning, as local crime kingpin Fergie (Postlethwaite) makes it clear that his business with Doug is not over yet.

The Town is based on Chuck Hogan's novel Prince of Thieves, which Affleck adapted with co-writers Aaron Stockard (who co-wrote Gone Baby Gone, too) and Peter Craig. Compared to other recent crime-dramas, this movie particularly stands out due to the character nuances. Gone are the days when robbers are outright bad and cops are outright good - it's grey all over here, with Doug trying to be noble and ethical while the tactics of the FBI are less honourable than those of the men they're pursuing. Additionally, a lot of the drama and energy of The Town is derived from two sources: the romance between Doug and Claire, and the friction among the criminals. The film may not be as morally complex or thematically deep as Gone Baby Gone, but it demonstrates Affleck's capacity to tackle a more mainstream project. The filmmaker took a standard cops & robbers film fare (with a thief looking to go straight, a woman representing his last chance at a normal life, a dogged lawman out to catch the crook, and the proverbial one last job) and made well-worn genre tropes seem as real as any story you'd see on the news.

2007's Gone Baby Gone was a more insular thriller, permitting Affleck the opportunity to build as a filmmaker without the crushing burden of a bloated budget or a large scope. The Town further inches Affleck up the industry ladder, as this picture assumes a more commercial batting stance with a number of shootouts and heist sequences. Luckily, Affleck's additional acting duties did not impact his directorial skill. During his years as an actor, Affleck clearly studied those helming his various productions, and those lessons have paid dividends. The action sequences are bursting with intoxicating tension here, and are easy to follow (Affleck did not adopt rapid-fire cutting or shaky-cam techniques). The robbers' disguises are all fairly creepy as well, from the "Skeletor with dreadlocks" masks to the horror film nun outfits, and this lends a sense of macabre to the heists. Additionally, The Town captures the look and feel of Charlestown excellently - it's brimming with authenticity. This is one of those productions in which the setting becomes a character in itself.

While The Town proves that Affleck is deft at both style and substance, the film also demonstrates that he is an excellent director of actors, including himself. This is one of Affleck's best performances in years, and it reminds us that he is an actor of considerable talent when not saddled with unfortunate dialogue or bad directors (like Michael Bay). However, the real show-stealer of this picture is Jeremy Renner, who infused his character of James with meaty callousness and nothing-to-lose lunacy. Renner is virtually a 21st Century James Cagney here - he's a pug-faced time bomb of a thug. In addition, Rebecca Hall is exceptional as Claire, while Blake Lively disappeared completely into the role of James' sister. Pete Postlethwaite also makes an impact as Fergie, as does Jon Hamm as an FBI agent. Meanwhile, Chris Cooper is outstanding as Doug's incarcerated father. Although his appearance amounts to a cameo, Cooper's role emphasises the fact that Doug's fate is virtually inevitable given his background.

Fans of the crime genre should be very pleased with The Town, while other movie-goers should be happy to enjoy an adult-minded thriller after a summer of explosions and special effects. Whatever its minor flaws, this is a finely-tuned instance of genre filmmaking, and a turbulent story explored with a steady hand. The Town is positive proof that Affleck's directorial debut was no fluke, and it launches Affleck into the upper echelon of American filmmaking talent.

9.1/10

The premise behind 2010's Furry Vengeance - a live-action cartoon featuring woodland mammals - is tolerable. However, the film is rendered insufferable due to its soulless, mean-spirited, moronic script as well as the repetitive, obnoxiously unfunny slapstick comedy, and the ill-conceived attempts to inject this cinematic stool sample with an environmental message. Furry Vengeance is a film with no redeeming qualities at all - it's the opposite of art, the opposite of entertainment, and the opposite of funny. It's not so bad it's good, but so bad that it'll make you lament how far Hollywood - and mankind in general - has fallen. If you reach the end of Furry Vengeance without being reduced to a depressed soul who has lost the will to live, it's impossible for you to be a sentient being.

Dan Sanders (Fraser) is a dithering land developer who has moved to the middle of nowhere with his science teacher wife (Shields) and Jonas Brother clone son (Prokop). Trying to suck up to his boss Neal Lyman (Jeong), Dan reluctantly accepts the job of assuming control of a massive community expansion which necessitates the removal of all trees and wildlife from the area. Due to the demands of the plot, the animals become clued into Dan's plans. Determined to thwart his efforts, the animals declare war on Dan; tormenting and attacking him in secret, leaving his colleagues and family to assume he has lost his mind. Predictably, Dan has an epiphany towards the end of the film, as he realises that there's something wrong with demolishing a wildlife preserve and executing a bunch of animals. And the catalyst for Dan's epiphany is the sight of his raccoon nemesis with its family. Who knew raccoons were so monogamous and loving? This leads to a heartfelt apology to his family, an admonition of his boss, and a contrived career change.

Without an ounce of hyperbole, it can be stated that Furry Vengeance is the most loathsome and moronic family film to hit cinemas in years. For goodness sake, the film consciously supports and encourages terrorism! It's apparently acceptable for the animals to murder if it means saving their habitat. In the film's opening moments, a land developer is sent careening off a cliff by the animals. Minutes later, a viewer gets treated to a disturbing photograph of a human corpse who has been bitten by a poisonous snake. Are you having a good time yet?! The animals are never cute or cuddly in this fucking awful movie, but instead outright monsters that are just as bad as the humans. Speaking of the humans, Dan is an absolute stiff and his wife is unsupportive and sassy. Dan's son, meanwhile, is an effeminate bitch of the highest order - he alters his perceptions to appease a girl he likes, and he complains like a 17-year-old slut unable to find her hair extensions. And Neal Lyman is a super-villain who flies around in a corporate jet with nothing but bad intentions. Everyone in this film is insufferable.

Beyond the fact that Furry Vengeance is populated with unredeemable bastards, the film fails as a comedy as well. In order to generate "comedy", Dan is repeatedly bashed in the nutsack, and a raccoon takes a piss on his face. At one stage, a flock of birds machine-gun the forest-demolishing antagonists with runny, white globs of poo. This is all joyless, humourless slapstick, and every gag is repeated a couple of times just in case you missed it the first time around. This type of material constitutes a solid 80 minutes of the 90-minute runtime - the remaining 10 minutes or so are dedicated to arguments between Dan and his family, a soulless romance between Dan's son and a classmate, and an end credits montage wherein the cast frolics and sings along to a cover version of Cypress Hill's pop anthem Insane in the Brain. Meanwhile, the blend of CGI and live-action is appalling. At times the digital manipulation is decent, but this all breaks down during the scenes where there are a lot of animals - hardly anything looks real at all. One must feel sorry for Brendan Fraser, too, who is awkward and hopelessly out of shape with a pot belly. The only thing which can be said in the film's favour is that the director at least tried to make this bullshit palatable.

One supposes that the intended moral of this empty, miserable, heartless cinematic abortion is the importance of forest and wildlife conservation. This notion is overshadowed, however, by the wrong-headed message that physical force and life-threatening violence is the answer for getting what you want. Furry Vengeance is also nothing more than another in the long line of family films which mistake stupidity for storytelling and noise for excitement. Children deserve far better than this dreadful movie, and they're far too smart for it. Furry Vengeance is an insult to anyone with a functioning brain. About midway through the movie, Dan's wife remarks "I just don't think this can get any worse." She was wrong.

1.8/10

Experiencing 2010's Grown Ups is akin to watching somebody's awful home movies - the people onscreen clearly enjoyed themselves while the camera was rolling, but the sense of fun does not translate to an enjoyable viewing experience for everyone else. In fact, with the amalgamation of a non-existent storyline and the pedestrian directorial style of Dennis Dugan, Grown Ups feels less like a cohesive movie and more like an extraordinarily dull behind-the-scenes documentary about a bunch of stars awkwardly killing time between takes on another (and presumably better) movie. While it does not strike the abysmal depths of Sandler's worst movies (namely You Don't Mess With the Zohan), Grown Ups fails to provide anything worthwhile. Even Sandler's most die-hard followers will have a hard time managing more than a few guffaws during this interminable slog of a comedy.

The premise is exceedingly straightforward. Close friends since 1978 when their team won a basketball championship, Lenny (Sandler), Eric (James), Marcus (Spade), Kurt (Rock) and Rob (Schneider) all went their separate ways during the march into adulthood. When their beloved basketball coach (Clark) dies a few decades later, the gang reunite for the funeral followed by a weekend of remembrance at a lake resort that they adored as kids. Bringing along their wives and forcing the kids away from their video games, the guys set out to ensure the weekend is a blast like the good old days. Oh, and for a bit of conflict, Lenny's family have plans to fly to Italy halfway through the weekend, but this predictably falls through. There are other conflicts which the film awkwardly flirts with, but it never settles on anything worth committing to.

Prior to Grown Ups, director Dennis Dugan had collaborated with Sandler and his pals on several movies, including the memorable and hilarious Happy Gilmore. Unfortunately, Dugan has visibly lost his touch, as the words "hilarious" and "memorable" cannot be applied to Grown Ups in any capacity. The script is notably awful - literally every scene is a dreary set-up for a gag that's usually flat and predictable. The laughs are pedestrian to a cringe-worthy extent, with plenty of fat jokes about Kevin James that are beyond old, and a few shots of Rob Schneider making out with his elderly wife (she's way too old for him, LMFAO!). Naturally, numerous gags about poop, pee and farts were ordered up as well, in addition to a bestiality joke and some rear nudity from Spade. None of this is funny. The waste of talent here is unbelievable, with creativity and wit being eschewed in favour of having Maya Rudolph getting breast milk squirted in her eye.

Grown Ups is threadbare stuff, to the extent that reviewing the film is a hard task. After all, criticising the script seems a bit unfair because there's no evidence to suggest that a script was even written at any point. The entire film is merely a hodgepodge of stale jokes, dramatic conflicts that suddenly arise before being solved within the confines of a single scene, and endless sequences depicting the protagonists sitting around insulting each other like 12-year-olds before saying "I'm just kidding". (Is the irony of the title blatant enough for you?) Much like the majority of Sandler's movies, Grown Ups wants to provide fart and poop jokes in addition to letting us know how sweet and well-meaning it is. Thus, there are awkwardly-placed scenes of half-baked sentiment. For instance, Sandler's character performs a noble gesture towards his rival, and this is followed by a scene in which he explains his noble gesture to ensure nobody missed the point of how selfless he is. How's that for subtlety?

Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris Rock, David Spade and Rob Schneider share an easy-going chemistry in the film, with their friendship feeling completely natural. And there's no wonder for this, because they are all friends in real life. However, none of the stars delivered memorable performances here, as they mostly just battled for screen-time and struggled for something approaching actual characters to play. Among the cast, Rock is easily the most underused, with his comedic genius being thrown to the wind in favour of a moody househusband shtick. In addition to these guys, Sandler called upon his support team of cameos to liven up the picture. Among them, Steve Buscemi is the only one to score big laughs, but it's not enough to salvage the film as a whole. If Grown Ups was a bad movie starring just one of these comedians, it would be easy to simply group it with the actor's list of clunkers and move on. But with it being presented as a landmark reunion of these guys, all of the film's shoddy elements become unforgivable offences.

At the very least, there are a few moments when the jokes do hit their mark (including 2 or 3 belly-laughs), but, overall, Grown Ups simply fails to deliver the expected laugh quota. The genuine funny stuff becomes buried underneath the failed, largely predictable jokes and the overuse of lowbrow humour. And the movie commits a cardinal sin: when it isn't funny, it becomes a boring, sluggish chore. Despite a large cast of talented comedians, there's nothing to save this sinking ship of hopeless disappointment.

3.8/10

Due to the decline in quality across the Rocky series, in addition to the lengthy period of time since Rocky V, the notion of sixth Rocky movie seemed scoff-worthy. Yet, against all odds, 2006's Rocky Balboa proves the naysayers wrong, as Sylvester Stallone (serving as writer, director and star) manages to deliver a heartfelt and entertaining conclusion to the long-running Rocky series. Generally speaking, the Rocky sequels were more concerned with Rocky, his nemesis and the fight, but, to conclude the franchise, Stallone dials back the excesses to recapture the bygone gritty milieu of the 1976 original. Rocky Balboa is a character study concerning the titular character, and the boxing match is more like a footnote. It is a great pleasure to report that Stallone found an ideal way to bring Rocky back to ground level, while additionally providing the fist-pumping and goosebump-inducing moments that made the series so enduring.

A widower of many years following the death of his wife Adrian, the fifty-something Rocky Balboa (Stallone) resides in his Philadelphia hometown where he spends his time running an Italian restaurant (named after Adrian) and telling stories of his glory days to patrons. After seeing a computerised boxing bout between himself in his prime and the current heavyweight champion Mason "The Line" Dixon (Antonio Tarver), Rocky's interest in the sport is suddenly sparked again and he plans to start fighting in local clubs. Meanwhile, the computerised battle suggested that Rocky would win the match by knockout, which inspires Dixon's greedy promoters to begin planning the real deal: an exhibition fight between Rocky and Dixon. Despite the odds being firmly stacked against him, Rocky eventually agrees to the match.

Soon enough, the film enters the land of training montages and "hurting bombs" as Rocky prepares for battle. These sequences are a cornerstone of the series, and they're highly satisfying in this particular instalment. Following about an hour of well-paced character development and dramatic growth, the strains of Bill Conti's exceptional Gonna Fly Now begin to blare. I defy any audience member to not cheer or find their senses roaring to life as they watch Rocky jog up the front steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art once again. And, of course, the climactic fight still stirs the soul. In fact, the final bout could be the greatest in the series, evincing a more refined, mature sense of realism and emotion than prior Rocky films. Perhaps the biggest reason for this is that, for the first time, just about every punch you see is real.

Rocky Balboa does an incredible job taking us down memory lane and reminding us why we loved the original Rocky so much. Stallone returns the series to its roots in an effective way, with the tempo slowing down to allow for character development, and with gentle, poignant moments depicting Rocky as he deals with age and loss. These scenes are incredibly affecting. While Rocky Balboa is formula with a capital F, this works in the film's favour. After all, it would be silly to try and improve or update the formula (Rocky V tried and failed), as fans of the series want to see Rocky being put through the motions one last time, proving that heart, sweat and decency will forever trump ego and fancy workout equipment. The Rocky series has always been about the power of the human spirit as embodied in the title character, and Rocky Balboa continues this tradition. The only flaw is that character behaviour seems perfunctory here - Rocky's decision to get back in the ring feels more at the convenience of the script, while Rocky's son (Milo Ventimiglia) deciding to come around feels undeveloped and rote.

In Rocky Balboa, Stallone delivers some of the best acting of his career. His portrayal of Rocky is warm and nuanced, serving as a reminder of how good the star can be when he cuts down on the machismo and doesn't let vanity pick his roles. Ageing also helps Stallone humanise the character - heart and soul imbues the performance, as he regains sight of what originally made Rocky such a cultural phenomenon. This is the same Rocky we knew and loved in the '70s - he's not very bright, but he is a generous and loveable gentleman who struggles to hide his emotional pain. In writing the script, Stallone also inserts elements of his own personal philosophy, revealing his hurt at once being so highly regarded for his work before being mercilessly torn down by the same system that once celebrated him. This is exemplified most notably in a monologue Rocky delivers at one stage to his son; it's a poignant speech, one of the most affecting moments in the entire series. Meanwhile, in the supporting cast, Burt Young is his usual gruff self as Paulie, and Tony Burton is reliably solid as Duke. Young, Burton and Stallone are therefore the only actors to feature in all six Rocky films. Ventimiglia is believable as Rocky's son, while Tarver pulls off his role of Mason "The Line" Dixon with just the right amount of arrogance and machismo.

Rocky Balboa is not a gimmick, nor is it a last-ditch attempt to capitalise on the profitable series and earn a few bucks. Instead, it's an excellent, warm, engaging film, and far better than it ought to be. Stallone couldn't do much with Rocky except take him to the same places we've seen before with predominantly the same results. Yet, the film has heart, and the character has finally returned to his affable self once again. Rocky Balboa is as strong as the original film, and a fitting requiem for one of cinema's most popular heavyweights. If the series had ended with Rocky V, it would have remained a joke. With Rocky Balboa, Stallone has given Rocky a proper, dignified burial and told a genuinely heartfelt, entertaining story in the process.

8.7/10