Reviews by PvtCaboose91

One must admit, it takes serious guts to entitle a film The Losers, since lame jokes are just begging to be cracked. Already, the critics who panned this appalling motion picture have utilised the obvious "The losers are in fact the audience" in addition to the also obvious "What were you expecting? It's called The Losers". Added to this, another thing you can count on is the film's screenwriters referencing the title on several occasions. In the very first scene, the line "Hey, you losers!" is used, and from there the references keep on coming. Alas, these one-liners lack the zing you'd anticipate, while the action is unbelievably pedestrian and the film rapidly degenerates into the same type of PG-13 junk you'd expect Michael Bay or Brett Ratner to deliver (though the filmmakers did not even aim that high). The Losers (based on a series of comics) should have delivered over-the-top action and large explosions. Instead, The Losers is all about limits: limited budget, limited scope, limited effort and limited imagination. Even the movie's best moments are still abjectly disposable.

The movie kicks off in Bolivia, where the audience is introduced to the titular team of Special Ops warriors: sniper expert Cougar (Óscar Jaenada), tech expert Jensen (Chris Evans), escape driver Pooch (Columbus Short), second-in-command Roque (Idris Elba), and the leader, Colonel Clay (Jeffrey Dean Morgan). When the operation goes south, The Losers attempt to rescue a number of children by sacrificing their place on their extraction aircraft. Unfortunately, the team is betrayed and their aircraft is destroyed, leading to the government believing that The Losers are dead. Subsequently, The Losers head underground while harbouring a thirst for vengeance against the man responsible for their predicament: evil government mole Max (Jason Patric). Eventually, the team are drawn out of hiding by Aisha (Zoe Saldana), a slick operator who offers them unlimited funding to exact their revenge on Max.

In other words, the generic plot is not unlike the television series The A-Team. This familiarity may have been easier to digest if only there wasn't an A-Team movie being released a few months after this film. Clearly, no-one thought the release slot through very well.

Once the plot balls start to roll, the movie perks up a bit with a few moderately entertaining action beats, but the entire enterprise is hampered by countless factors. The film's primary problem rears its ugly head at the beginning: the PG-13 rating. Director Sylvain White actually insisted upon the PG-13 rating (whereas the studio was prepared to fund an R-rated picture), and this decision affects The Losers in a major way. The action scenes feel as if they're perpetually pulling punches, with the camera awkwardly shying away from capturing gunshot wounds, and the occasionally choppy editing accentuating the problem. A lack of blood and profanity detracts from the reality of the movie, as it merely feels like a bland product tailor-made for maximum box office profits. The irony, of course, is that the film flopped anyway; it was a slow crawl to merely make back its $25 million budget! (Hey, the film was a loser at the box office!) Additionally, the majority of the CGI used in the film (mostly reserved for explosions) is woeful. The cartoonish incompetency ruins the atmosphere, and mars the movie's only mildly entertaining moments.

While the titular Losers have an arsenal of weapons at their disposal, the team are no-where near as fun as the '80s action heroes which they visibly strived to emulate. Director White, true to his origins as a director of music videos and commercials, was clearly keen to add visual flair to the picture, as he employs an armada of techniques (including jump-cuts and slow motion). The introductions of the characters, meanwhile, are intercut with images from the comics on which the film is based. This idea may be interesting in theory, but it's disastrous in practise - putting a strain on what should've been a lightweight actioner. The key problem, though, is the failure to maintain a consistent tone. A number of scenes are played with a knowing wink and seem intended for laughs, yet this tone is contradicted by the action sequences which take themselves too seriously and are inherently uninteresting. Perhaps due to budget limitations, the action is not gloriously B-grade or enjoyably over-the-top. Planet Terror is an excellent instance of a B-grade actioner filled with hilariously OTT action - this is the pedigree that would have served The Losers the best. Only actor Jason Patric delivers the material in the desired fashion. His Max is a cartoonish villain, though he's nonetheless forgettable amidst the tedious plot machinations.

At the end of the day, The Losers is an awful, tragically insipid action picture with action scenes that never rise above the run-of-the-mill. It feels more like a pilot for a television show than a feature film, to be honest, as the characters spend more time trying to be clever than allowing us to get to know them. A quick-fix shoot-'em-up needs more personality, style and verve than this. Worse, proper closure is sacrificed in favour of opportunities for sequels which we may never see due to the film's box office failure. Thus, The Losers is tonally schizophrenic, empty-headed, unsatisfying and disposable. There is absolutely no reason to see it.

3.2/10

Consisting of five main volumes and three supplemental books, Rick Riordan's popular Percy Jackson series must have been an easy sell for any studio. It contains heroes, villains, monsters, wish fulfilment, and epic feats of magic and courage while also tackling popular Greek mythology. Topping this off, the whole package is reminiscent of Harry Potter. Yet, even with all this in place, Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief comes across as slapdash, rushed, unsatisfying and lifeless. While boldly produced, this is a clunky epic which utterly squanders a terrific supporting cast, and is marred by frequently flat dialogue and glaring plot idiocies.

A high school student with dyslexia, ADD, and an abusive stepfather, the titular Percy Jackson (Lerman) doesn't exactly have a firm grasp on his potential. Following an encounter with a hellish demon during a school field trip, Percy's friend Grover (Jackson) and his teacher (Brosnan) reveal to the bewildered Percy that he is in fact the demigod son of Poseidon (McKidd). It's also revealed that Zeus (played by the tragically wasted Sean Bean) has accused Percy of stealing his lightning bolt, and will urge the Gods of Olympus into war if the bolt is not returned. After a brief orientation at Camp Half Blood (where demigods and goddesses congregate to perfect their powers), Percy hits the road with Grover and the daughter of Athena, Annabeth (Daddario), bound for the underworld, hoping to solve the thunderbolt mystery and save the world in the process.

While Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief hits most of the story and action beats that will likely keep the pre-teen fans of the books happy, the film's mechanical nature makes it considerably less enjoyable for those of us old enough to remember Bill Clinton as President. Plus, all the film offers is a standard, clichéd Hero's Journey that we've already seen done before. The whole timeframe of the narrative is incomprehensible too, since the protagonists race across America in what seems like a matter of hours rather than days or weeks. Yet, this is not as glaring as the lack of explanation as to why Percy was accused by Zeus of being the thief, and why the all-knowing Zeus would make such an error in judgement. In addition, it would seem the filmmakers wanted to avoid the usual clichés of the kid-turned-hero fantasy genre without a clue about how to achieve it. Case in point: the film seems headed for a clichéd training montage once Percy enters Camp Half Blood, but this is replaced by one mere training exercise after which Percy is transformed into the camp's greatest fighter. Even raw talent needs to be honed, and if it doesn't then why does Percy have an instructor? What's he instructing him in?

In addition, this Harry Potter clone (which, amusingly, is still more interesting and enjoyable than its popular predecessor) has been constructed in an obvious and clumsy fashion, with characters all dutifully over-explaining every thought and emotion, and the soundtrack choices making weak jokes that are not even worth a giggle. (The moment someone mentions the highway to hell, the tune Highway to Hell begins playing! When the characters head to Vegas, it's time for Poker Face!) Chris Columbus (who, coincidentally, helmed the first two Harry Potter flicks) is clearly able to stage big set-pieces, but is usually let down by either the strictly regular visual effects which stream by with only momentary impact, or sheer stupidity. In terms of stupidity, there's a needlessly long action piece involving a large creature inside a museum. After a long, unsuccessful skirmish, they finally pull out Medusa's head to kill it. Medusa's head is such a powerful weapon - why not use it immediately? Why not use it more often?! Additionally, one of the most embarrassing sequences in the movie takes place in the Greek Underworld with Hades (Coogan). Rather than an interesting conflict, something unbelievably contrived happens. This type of stuff continues unabated until the predictable final showdown.

The performances aren't exactly inspiring. The film foregrounds the weak actors, while the actors with potential were relegated to speaking roles with 10 minutes of screen-time each (tops). Logan Lerman (the Zac Efron lookalike) does a serviceable job as Percy Jackson, but he barely registers. Alexandra Daddario, while attractive, makes no impact as Annabeth, and Brandon T. Jackson is more annoying than amusing. On the other hand, Uma Thurman is a terrific Medusa, and Sean Bean and Pierce Brosnan (who, interestingly, appeared alongside each other in the James Bond film GoldenEye) are strong, but all are wasted on mere cameo roles. The same goes for Steve Coogan and Rosario Dawson.

Let's get this straight. If you're seeking a big, loud blockbuster that moves along at a nice pace, you could do a lot better than Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, but you could still do far worse. It's watchable, at the very least. That said, it'd take a skilled filmmaker to do something special with the fantasy genre in this day and age, since it has been milked so much. Alas, without any emotional resonance, believable character relationships, sinister villains or mind-blowing visual effects, Percy Jackson is just a flat, overlong, forgettable trip into Dullsville with nothing new or exciting to offer. It's recommendable that you watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy again, rather than wasting life on this film.

5.1/10

If you were unaware of its 2009 release date, you could easily believe that The Princess and the Frog was created in the late 1980s or early '90s, alongside The Little Mermaid and Aladdin. All the proverbial Disney elements are in place - a loose connection to a time-worn fairy tale, Broadway-style music numbers, animal sidekicks, a type of fairy godmother, and a mixture of comedy & romance. More importantly, The Princess and the Frog marks Disney's return to the realm of hand-drawn 2-D animation following a five-year hiatus. While this is all well and good, The Princess and the Frog merely comes across as a well-meaning but overly calculated effort to please everyone, and the result feels like a formulaic direct-to-DVD effort as opposed to a triumphant return to form.

The titular princess is an African-American named Tiana (Rose), who is in reality not a princess at all but rather a working-class waitress in New Orleans who aspires to someday open her own restaurant. Tiana's life suddenly takes a turn when Prince Naveen (Campos) visits New Orleans. After a run-in with the shadowy Dr. Facilier (David), Naveen is turned into a frog and believes a kiss from a princess will bring him back to his human form. Unfortunately, Naveen mistakes Tiana's ball costume for the dress of an actual princess, and, when he convinces Tiana to plant a smooch on his lips, the lip-lock results in Tiana becoming a frog herself. With Tiana and Naveen stuck together as frogs, they navigate the backwaters of southern Louisiana in search of a certain Mama Odie (Lewis), who may be able to restore their human form.

Not leaving anything to chance for their hand-drawn animation comeback, Disney hired animation directors Ron Clements and John Musker to oversee The Princess and the Frog, as well as bringing Randy Newman on-board to take care of the songs. Speaking from a visual standpoint, there's little to differentiate this picture from the likes of Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid. The animation is, of course, delightful, with the streets of New Orleans and the dangerous backwaters of Louisiana being imbued with the same subtle magic which gave life to the main locations of esteemed Disney classics. Most impressive, though, is Dr. Facilier. Speaking from a narrative perspective, he's a one-dimensional villain, but he's genuinely sinister and interesting. In addition, the voice cast is fantastic. The little-known voice actors do a superb job in their respective roles (Anika Noni Rose as Tiana in particular), while the big-name actors (Oprah Winfrey, Terrence Howard and John Goodman, to name a few) are equally terrific.

The Princess and the Frog was heralded as a breakthrough due to two particular factors: it's Disney's return to hand-drawn animation, and it features Disney's first African-American heroine. But really, it was only five years since Disney's last hand-drawn animated feature (Home on the Range), which, in the grand scheme of things, is not a particularly lengthy hiatus (especially if one considers the lengthy production periods on these projects). Secondly, Disney pictures have always featured diverse heroes, so the notion of an African-American heroine is nothing groundbreaking. If one removes these two elements from the equation of analysing The Princess and the Frog (they are, after all, more marketing concerns than artistic concerns), all that remains is a passable but entirely forgettable and unremarkable addition to the Disney canon.

The set-up for The Princess and the Frog is entertaining and interesting enough, but the execution of the story fails to bring it to life in a grand or memorable way. While the animation is colourful, there are only a few select moments in which the artists have brought true dynamic colour to the screen. Pacing is also an issue, as is the stale, clichéd nature of the entire narrative. From the outset, the narrative's conclusion is terribly predictable, and the ending is even more saccharine-coated than you'd expect. While recent Pixar movies such as WALL-E and Up were predictable too, they were mature, fun, and each film managed to pack a tremendous emotional punch. These aforementioned positives are generally absent from The Princess and the Frog. Additionally, the inert love story between Tiana and Naveen never develops the type of romantic traction which other Disney classics benefitted from. And sure, while the characters burst into song and dance more than a couple of times, these musical numbers feel obligatory (this is a Disney movie!) more than anything else. Randy Newman's jazzy songs are entirely unremarkable, as they merely reassert information already established outside of the music.

Formula is, of course, a Disney staple - it's required to help develop a sense of comfort for young viewers. While there's a sense of nostalgia watching all of these generic elements playing out once again, the recipe no longer feels fresh. In fact, it feels as if those behind The Princess and the Frog were perpetually on autopilot. Thus, a strain of fatigue mars the movie; preventing the material from exploding into brilliance. Instead, it's just a mediocre, merely watchable effort.

6.1/10

In Tucker Max's best-selling novel I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, the author is pretty upfront:
"My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole. I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead. But, I do contribute to humanity in one very important way. I share my adventures with the world."
When it comes to Max's book, you either go along with the ride and laugh at his hilarious adventures, or you condemn the man as being a misogynistic, thoroughly unlikeable asshole (a perfectly reasonable response). Perhaps unsurprisingly, a similar principal applies to the movie adaptation. That said, however, it's highly unlikely that even fans of the book (myself included) will overly enjoy this flick, even despite Max himself having co-written the script. The problem is not with the cast or the morally reprehensible nature (as the critics would have you believe), but rather that Max's stories - which are comic gold - are utilised within an exceedingly generic narrative, and Max's wit is in shockingly short supply here. Imagine The Hangover minus the crazy fun and constant laughs.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is primarily an adaptation of the Austin Road Trip story from Max's novel, with a few bits & pieces of Max's other stories thrown into the script for good measure. This denotes problem #1: failure to select the most interesting story as the basis for the film. Problem #2 is the doctoring of the story to turn it into an unbelievably formulaic narrative. In a nutshell, the story follows Tucker Max (Czuchry), who decides to take an impromptu trip to a strip club in Salem (250 miles away) with his friends Dan (Stults) and Drew (Bradford). The occasion? It's Dan's bachelor party. The trip requires lying to Dan's fiancée (Pratt), however, and it's gradually revealed that the trip was just a chance for Tucker to pursue his own interests.

Of course, Dan's relationship with his fiancée is bland and predictable. Predictably, said fiancée doesn't trust Tucker, and tells Dan that he shouldn't trust Tucker either. Of course, too, the trip proves detrimental to Dan's upcoming marriage. Of course, also, touching moments are included wherein the three central characters are forced into a huge revelation or life experience. Drew, for instance, detests women on account of a harsh break-up, but eventually meets his match and falls in love. Tucker, meanwhile, realises he's too sociopathic, narcissistic and arrogant, leading to an epiphany, an ultimate decision to change his ways, and a redemption. Thus, a sympathetic figure is made of Tucker. Did the real-life Tucker Max seriously write this stuff?! Max's book, at least, was honest and never attempted an uplifting arc or a hopeful conclusion.

(The one standing up...that's the real Tucker Max)

Fans of the book and fans of Tucker Max in general will be disappointed by the lack of the author's distinctive voice. Because the book is told entirely from Tucker's perspective, his asides and commentaries are constantly the source of the humour. What he says and he does is amusing as well, of course, but this film is short on those moments. There are a few mindless laughs to enjoy, granted, but the dead spots are at times unwatchable, and there aren't enough laughs to warrant a recommendation. Jesse Bradford as Drew is about the only consistently amusing constituent of the flick, and his verbal battle with a sassy exotic dancer is uproarious. This is about the only time the trademark Tucker Max wit is in evidence.

Tucker Max's I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell novel is so brilliant because it's written skilfully and humorously. Any idiot can recount their drunken episodes and sexcapades, but it takes real talent to make it a bestseller. Alas, hardly any of that talent is evident in the film version. You may think it's impossible to make a decent film version of the book, but you'd be wrong. Here's how you do it: eschew a generic plotline, tie together as many of the funniest stories from the book as possible in the form of a "slice of life" narrative, add Max's insight into the world around him via a constant narration, and for God's sake don't water down the content of the book.

3.9/10

O how the mighty have fallen. Throughout the 1990s, Arnold Schwarzenegger could hardly stop the hits from coming, as he featured in masterpieces like Terminator 2, Total Recall and True Lies. Director Andrew Davis, meanwhile, garnered critical and commercial success with The Fugitive, and went on to pursue other projects. It's a shame, then, that Collateral Damage - an Arnie/Davis collaboration - is a failure from practically every angle. Collateral Damage was originally scheduled to hit theatres in October 2001, but was delayed several months following the September 11 terrorist attacks. See, Hollywood had a sudden crisis of conscience regarding the depiction of violence in films, specifically terrorist-related violence. Too bad the movie wasn't scrapped entirely instead, as this is a second-rate, unremarkable and frankly dull revenge flick.

The term "collateral damage" is a military expression which refers to the innocent bystanders who are accidentally killed during military actions. The Schwarzenegger role here is heroic fireman Gordy Brewer, whose wife and daughter are killed in a terrorist bombing (the collateral damage of the title). The man responsible is a Columbian terrorist known as El Lobo, or "The Wolf" (Cliff Curtis). Upon discovering that the U.S. government are unable and unwilling to bring El Lobo to justice, Gordy sets off to Columbia to track down the nutcase and distribute justice himself. That's literally it.

Apparently, this lone, completely untrained fireman can effortlessly track down El Lobo, fight for survival against soldiers, and pull off what billions of dollars and hundreds of armed military men were unable to do. Meanwhile, Gordy also survives a leap off a waterfall, and pretends to fix a generator while secretly rigging an entire cocaine factory with explosives (don't the guards have eyes?). Of course, any Arnold Schwarzenegger movie requires a certain degree of suspension of disbelief in order to enjoy the ride, but Collateral Damage is not a fun ride. It takes itself far too seriously, and in the process denies viewers the pleasures associated with Arnie vehicles. The pace is far too sluggish as well. The first hour is devoted to repetitious set-up and exposition, and when the action at long last arrives it's not as energetic or as satisfyingly violent to justify the wait. Heck, Arnold never even picks up a gun - it's basically him pounding on the enemies he encounters until they are subdued. This stuff is hardly exciting. It would be a monumental effort for someone to survive this film without stifling at least one yawn.

Clearly, Collateral Damage was intended and designed to function as a type of treatise on terrorist violence, as questions are raised regarding the definition of "terrorist". By and large, this type of stuff is interesting in a post-9/11 climate. Problem is, the rote narrative is of the straight-to-video variety, and the movie tries to appeal to the action buffs through the presence of Arnie. It's a glorified B-movie with big aspirations, and it tries so hard at its aspirations that it forgets its purpose: to entertain. The dialogue is constantly flat, and the film plays out in such an obvious manner that a predictable twist towards the film's end only highlights how dull the movie had been up to that point.

One of Arnold Schwarzenegger's best attributes during his Commando era was that he never took himself too seriously. In Collateral Damage, unfortunately, he's never allowed such levity. His charisma is muted and the tone is downbeat and serious, with absolutely no opportunities for witty one-liners or sly winks. This is a grim, humourless affair, and Schwarzenegger is a lifeless automaton going through the motions. Arnie has a formidable screen presence, but he is unable to act. Attempts to portray Arnie as a different kind of action hero with dark motives and deep internal conflicts are doomed to failure. After all, the sole reason viewers will happily tolerate Arnie's bad acting is to enjoy the ride. What's there to like without the fun? A more solid actor in the leading role could have improved this film.
The supporting cast, meanwhile, is comprised of good actors who aren't given a great deal to do. The two Johns - John Leguizamo and John Turturro - are given thankless cameos with no more than 10 minutes each of screen-time. Why did these guys even bother to star in the film? Also, the casting of New Zealand actor Cliff Curtis as El Lobo is problematic, because Curtis doesn't look even remotely Columbian. The rest of the cast submit unremarkable work, and seem to be here just to make Arnie look good.

Judged purely as a piece of popcorn cinema, Collateral Damage only barely passes muster despite a few skilful moments. None of the action scenes are particularly exciting, the storyline is dull, and the overall impression you'll be left with is "blah". The movie takes itself far too seriously, as if it were making a statement about the realities of terrorism, instead of playing out like the fantastical comic-book adventure that it is. With no Arnie one-liners or memorable Arnie action, Collateral Damage is utterly drab. Would Collateral Damage have been considerably superior if it featured more of the Austrian Oak kicking ass? Probably not, but it wouldn't have hurt.

3.7/10

Warning: It's impossible to fully evaluate The Book of Eli in a review without divulging what some may consider to be spoilers, even though the film and the trailers make no effort to hide this 'spoiler'. A spoiler warning is therefore in effect, but only for the paranoid spoiler Nazis.

In essence, The Book of Eli marries the violent, gritty feel of a spaghetti western with elements of The Road, and places this concoction in the indeterminate future with a spiritual twist. The Book of Eli additionally marks the return to the directorial chair for the Hughes Brothers (Allen and Albert), who were last seen at the helm of the underrated Jack the Ripper thriller From Hell almost a decade ago. Right from the opening titles, it's clear the Hughes Brothers have matured during their absence from the director's chair - The Book of Eli is a more meditative and competent effort from the duo. That said, this movie is far from perfect, as it suffers from a self-righteous tone, overbearing religious connotations, and some risible screenwriting.

The story takes place roughly thirty years after a devastating nuclear war which destroyed most of civilisation and transformed a majority of the survivors into filthy, illiterate scavengers reduced to murder and cannibalism. The titular Eli (Washington) is a modern-day prophet who wanders the remnants of the interstate highway systems heading West, with the last known copy of the Holy Bible in his backpack. God informed Eli to proceed to a place where the Good Book can take root in the new world, and those who get in his way must be violently dealt with. Thus, when Eli is interrupted by roving biker gangs or hijackers interested in the contents of Eli's pack, he unleashes superhero-like skills. Trouble arises when Eli comes across a decrepit town ruled by the tyrannical Carnegie (Oldman), who is able to maintain his dictatorial reign because he knows of a location for clean water, and commands a horde of armed punks.

To make a long story short, Carnegie wants to get his hands on Eli's Bible, because he plans to use it as a weapon to enhance and consolidate his power. With Eli harbouring honourable intentions for the Good Book, The Book of Eli can be considered an interesting metaphor for the dual-edged nature of religion: when used with good intentions, it can lead to salvation for humanity, but when abused the results are apocalyptic.

For those not paying much attention, the big spoiler warning at the beginning was because of this review revealing the fact that Eli is carrying a Holy Bible. That's right - the twist is that Eli is carrying the Bible and it will bring hope to humanity. It's not used in any symbolic way, like if it was hollowed out and contains some ultimate weapon or a helpful map... It's literally just the Bible. How hopelessly trite and obvious can you get?! This, along with the usually clunky pacing, the introduction of the useless Salara (Kunis), and the aforementioned self-righteous tone prove most detrimental to The Book of Eli. It runs for two hours, but most of this running time is filler rather than character development. Since you know Eli is carrying the Bible and is consequently on a mission from God (if you will), the story's victor is predictable from the outset, and the script should therefore have been tighter rather than meandering.

Yet, in spite of its faults, there is much to appreciate about The Book of Eli. The Hughes Brothers and veteran cinematographer Don Burgess have crafted a painterly motion picture crafted with style and nuance. If the Mad Max films were executed with a much more generous budget, the apocalyptic wastelands would resemble those within The Book of Eli. Additionally, stylish shots and camera set-ups are frequent, such as the way the camera at times moves as if it's a bird trying to avoid all the airborne bullets. The direction of the action scenes is crisp and kinetic, and the directorial duo never relied on fast cuts or editing-room assembly to make the fights seem fast or furious (the best fight occurs early into the film, and is presented almost entirely in silhouette). The film culminates with a riveting shootout which would make Sam Peckinpah smile. An extra ribbon for the excellent sound design and the moody score by first-timer Atticus Ross, too.

The eternally-reliable Denzel Washington is credible and engaging as Eli, and it's refreshing to see a kickass action hero like him - he's not a wise-cracker, an impossibly muscular force of nature, some type of misfit, or any other stale, popular Hollywood troupe.
Gary Oldman, meanwhile, is in full bad-guy mode here, with his performance reminding us of the villains he used to portray in such movies as Leon: The Professional. If you've seen any post-apocalyptic action movie before, however, you've seen this type of one-note villain before, making Oldman's work solid but unremarkable. The attractive Mila Kunis is also on hand as Solara, yet she looks too comely and clean to be living in such a harsh world (usually the case with movies of this ilk featuring a female protagonist). The role does prove to be within Kunis' range, though, which is unsurprising considering how little she was given to work with. Ray Stevenson, meanwhile, (who you may or may not remember from the awesome Punisher: War Zone which nobody saw) is solid in his performance as Carnegie's right-hand man.

The Book of Eli is not a great movie or even a classic of the genre, but there's a great deal to admire, particularly in the visual style and the action sequences. Additionally, it's a treat to see a big-budget actioner which doesn't sacrifice intelligence for the sake of special effects. The Book of Eli contains one of the best truck explosions in cinema of recent years, yet a viewer is not asked to lower their I.Q. to enjoy the pyrotechnics. While a flawed cinematic experience, it's still worth checking out.

6.2/10

Superficially, there's nothing about Showdown in Little Tokyo to get excited about. It comes across as a typical, silly, by-the-numbers action picture. Dig deeper, though, and you will find Showdown in Little Tokyo to be one of the best actioners of the 1990s - and, indeed, one of the best buddy cop action pictures in history (right behind Lethal Weapon). When it comes to action films, most are pretty disposable and undistinguished, yet Showdown in Little Tokyo is distinctly separated from its unremarkable brethren due to a number of things: an ideal pairing of actors, a top-notch script bursting with hilarious one-liners, technical competency, and absolutely no pretentions. It had modest ambitions of being a goofily watchable pure action film, and it surpassed them with aplomb.

The plot (or rather the excuse for this movie to exist) concerns the Japanese Yakuza organisation, which has moved into Little Tokyo, Los Angeles. Leading them is vicious gangster Yoshida (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa), who's manufacturing drugs and utilising a brewery as the distribution centre. LAPD detective Chris Kenner (Dolph Lundgren) has a personal score to settle with Yoshida, as the gangster slaughtered Chris' parents when Chris was just a small child. Meanwhile, Chris is given a youthful partner in the form of Jimmy Murata (Brandan Lee). In keeping with buddy cop action pictures of the 1980s, these two are an "odd couple" pairing due to their differing ideologies and backgrounds. They do have one thing in common, however: outstanding fighting ability. Thus, with excellent fighting skills and an arsenal of weapons on their side, the stage is set for an action-packed showdown between hundreds of armed Yakuza thugs (who are unable to shoot straight) and the two heroes. Oh, and Chris & Jimmy also endeavour to protect a girl named Minako (Tia Carrere).

Within the first 20 minutes of Showdown in Little Tokyo, shootouts unfold, Dolph Lundgren kicks serious butt, the comedic lines literally never stop, a big-breasted blonde shows up, and there are bare titties. Director Mark L. Lester (the genius behind Commando) refuses to allow this raucous energy and breakneck pace to relent for a single frame as the narrative continually throttles forward at full speed, leading to non-stop action sequences, sex scenes, and priceless interactions between Lundgren and Lee. A hackneyed revenge plot may lie at the film's core, but you'll be enjoying the fast-paced ride too much to care about the script flaws (of which there are a number). After all, action movies will always be marred by contrivances, wooden acting and clichés, so the film's quality depends on the ride. Fortunately, Showdown in Little Tokyo provides a pulse-pounding ride accentuated by an excellently intense score, and the film is inhabited by two heroes so likeable that you will never want the movie to end. Hell, there's even an '80s-style training montage thrown in for good measure!

The engaging Brandon Lee - son of martial arts legend Bruce Lee - made his American film debut with Showdown in Little Tokyo. Brandon, who died in a tragic accident on the set of The Crow, was an exceptional action star, and he's in top form here. He emanates charisma, and he managed to give his character a tremendous degree of personality. It's an added bonus that Lee is so talented during the fight scenes, all of which are outstanding. Thankfully, Dolph Lundgren is also great. His performance as Chris Kenner could be his finest work to date (it's inarguably his best role to date as well). Dolph's acting skills are usually ridiculed, and usually for good reason, but the Dolphster displays impressive acting skills in this movie. He delivers one-liners with the confidence and charisma of any '80s action icon at the pinnacle of their career. Placing Lundgren and Lee alongside each other was an excellent decision, as the two share genuine chemistry, exchange hilarious banter, and playfully bounce off one another. I defy you to find a better buddy cop pair-up outside of the Lethal Weapon movies.

If you approach Showdown in Little Tokyo with a critical mind, you're viewing it for all the wrong reasons. Even so, the film is not bad at all from a critical standpoint as it only rarely asks us to suspend our disbelief, and the dialogue is clever (there are at least 10 or 15 laugh-out-loud zingers here). All things considered, Showdown in Little Tokyo is an easy film to love. Mark L. Lester has crafted the movie with impressive zeal, and the action sequences as the result of his labours are exhilarating. Everything from the comedy to the fisticuffs, and the shootouts to the nudity hit all the right buttons. As an actioner, this movie fulfils its purpose...and then some. Action buffs owe it to themselves to check out this film, while casual movie-watchers seeking 75 minutes of easy entertainment should find this movie equally as satisfying.

8.5/10

Someone had better get in touch with Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson and Vin Diesel, because Jackie Chan is stealing their work!
2010's The Spy Next Door denotes the latest attempt by a hardcore action star to launch a new sub-career by performing in dumbed-down family films. Not unlike other fluff pieces starring tough guys, Chan's PG-rated flick is a by-the-numbers slog comprised of unfunny scenarios and merely passable action. Any way you cut it, The Spy Next Door is a fucking awful film. Whether you view it strictly as a critic or try to see it through the eyes of a little kid with no concern about the quality of cinema, this flick is a total dud. It's not funny, charming or particularly exciting, and it certainly is not well-made. Directed by Brian Levant (also responsible for Jingle All the Way, Are We There Yet? and Snow Dogs), this is a hackneyed, mindless waste of time and money.

Luckily, The Spy Next Door opens with terrific footage of Chan's past hits. Watching all that great stunt work and comic mugging of yesteryear reminds us of why we love the guy. Unfortunately, the movie begins proper after that, with Chan tossed haphazardly into the sort of comedy where a family has a pet pig. Chan plays Bob Ho; an undercover secret agent on loan to the Americans from the Chinese government. During his assignment of chasing down a nefarious Russian, Bob falls for the single mother living next door, Gillian (Valletta). But before marriage plans can be considered between the two, Bob has to earn the respect of Gillian's three children: a precocious boy (Shadley), a sweet little girl (Foley), and an attitude-heavy teen (Carroll). Bob soon captures the Russian bad guy and retires just as Gillian has to leave town on a medical emergency, leaving Bob to babysit the three kids. The Russian escapes from prison, of course, and he's out to get Bob and execute his plans to manipulate the world's oil supply.

Yes, it's a standard set-up not unlike other family movies (it's very reminiscent of The Pacifier, to name one). Yes, sweet moments are incorporated as each kid warms up to Bob. Yes, Bob's martial arts skills and spy gadgets prove beneficial. If you didn't predict these things, you desperately need to see more films. The Spy Next Door represents the tough-guy-as-a-nanny routine that's been amended especially for Chan's special skills, with notoriously robotic family filmmaker Brian Levant overseeing the silliness. Levant's direction is as predictable as the film itself. As forced family films go, The Spy Next Door is painful, and it embodies everything that's wrong about what studios believe to be good, clean, wholesome entertainment.

The Spy Next Door does manage to provide the trademark wide-enhanced action choreography that Chan is renowned for. Now in his '50s, the actor is unable to pull off the same gravity-defying wizardry as he once could, but Chan does engage in agreeable mayhem when the moment calls for it. Once the action does arrive, The Spy Next Door thankfully livens up, but only slightly. Problem is, 70% of the movie is devoted to either unfunny comedy or forced, cloying sentiment, which limits the dynamic action. Another problem is the tone which keeps the film safe for children, but less invigorating for Chan purists or, God help them, parents forced into enduring the film with their kids. This, combined with the predictable narrative beats and the perpetually unsuccessful comedy, renders the experience almost unwatchable.

Jackie Chan is, logically, the force of the movie, but the star's performance is visibly phoned-in. His broken English doesn't help matters. Whereas in the Rush Hour films, Chan's broken English and confused delivery factor into the comedy, The Spy Next Door expects viewers to believe that this awkward secret agent - who's barely able to utter an intelligible sentence - can maintain a loving relationship with an attractive American mother. Alas, Chan never exhibits sufficient acting range to make any of the character's relationships believable. Interestingly, the customary gag reel at the end features less "stunts gone bad" and more "Jackie messes up his line". Thankfully, Amber Valletta is tolerable as Gillian, while the kids - Madeline Carroll, Will Shadley and Alina Foley - are all passable. Carroll in particular handles the dreadful material like a champ.

While we can begrudgingly credit Levant and the writers for avoiding bodily function humour that seems to soil PG family flicks, this is faint praise. Pretty much everything else is awful. The tots might - keyword might - enjoy the Daddy Day Care-style mayhem, but even that stuff is in short supply. There is an ample supply of is sugar, however - there's enough of it to cover the next few Christmases. For crying out loud, the film contains lines such as "I want Bob to be my daddy". Rest assured the film won't give the kiddies nightmares, but parents will be longing for a double or triple-feature of Chan's greatest hits after they endure it. If you're still reading this review, you've spent more time mulling over The Spy Next Door than the filmmakers did - and more time than it deserves. (I spent so much time reviewing it for the sake of the hobby, and to warn you. I did not enjoy thinking about it for so long.)

2.8/10

If the movie title Titanic is used during a conversation, one of two particular motion pictures will usually spring to mind: James Cameron's 1997 blockbuster, or Jean Negulesco's 1953 drama. However, this review concerns none of the aforementioned movies - this is a review of the 1943 Nazi propaganda movie entitled Titanic; a feature which suggests that the sinking of the famous 'unsinkable' ocean liner could have been avoided if the powers that be had listened to the only German officer on the ship. As an instance of moviemaking, 1943's Titanic is nothing to get excited about, but as a historical artefact which demonstrates how demented the Nazi party was, Titanic is something of great interest.

If you're not familiar with the story of the RMS Titanic, here it is in short: it was the largest ship ever made at the time, and was touted as "unsinkable". During her maiden voyage in 1912 across the North Atlantic Ocean, she struck and iceberg and sunk. With not enough lifeboats to save all the passengers, the disaster led to the deaths of over 1,500 people.

Front and centre in this particular motion picture is the propagandistic message of British greed, ignorance and arrogance. The film's first section reveals that White Star Line president Bruce Ismay (Fürbringer) is anxious to improve his company's stock performance. In bringing this plan to fruition, Ismay bribes the Titanic's captain with a substantial cash bonus for an early arrival in New York, thus endangering everyone on-board. Among the Titanic's crew is German officer Herr Peterson (Nielsen), who urges that heed be paid to the constant ice warnings and dropping temperature. He is ignored and reprimanded by his superiors, of course, and when the ship collides with an iceberg Peterson is the only one to behave nobly.

Titanic was green-lit because Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels perceived the real-life disaster as a great example of British incompetency. It was the most expensive German movie up until that time, and endured countless production difficulties. Before shooting had been completed, the film's director, Herbert Selpin, was overheard making disparaging remarks about the German navy. His remarks were relayed onto the Gestapo, who arrested him and threw him in prison. The following day, Selpin was found hanging in his cell. Production continued nevertheless, and the movie was eventually completed by new director Werner Klingler. The night before Titanic's debut in Germany, however, the building which housed the premiere print was destroyed in an air raid. Goebbels - who had already endured protests over the treatment of Selpin - subsequently sensed the sequences depicting shipboard panic in the movie too closely echoed the actual panic of the German population (who were subjected to nightly bombings), and decided to ban the film. It was only seen after extensive cutting in occupied Paris. Hitler's Germany never saw the movie.

Most of principal photography for Titanic took place on-board the SS Cap Arcona; a passenger cruise ship which itself sank in the last weeks of World War II, resulting in a loss of life far heavier than that of the actual Titanic. The sets in general are impressive and expansive, and the flooding sequences were pulled off competently. That said, none of the locations look anything like the actual Titanic. This extends to...pretty much all the action which doesn't feature the detailed model. Watch as the officers on the ship see the iceberg, and order a searchlight be shone upon it. Never mind that searchlights were never installed on the Titanic, and the model for the wide shots does not include said searchlight... As a consequence of such carelessness, it's difficult to accept this as a Titanic picture. It's also difficult to accept the Titanic passengers as British, because each speaks fluent German with a perfect German accent.

The real concern with films of this nature is how effectively they work as a spectacle, and Titanic is simply not much of a spectacle at all. It runs at a brisk 85 minutes, but the ship hits the iceberg about halfway through the movie, which just leads to some merely passable model work, some "I told you so" posturing by the stoic officer Peterson, and a number of perilously naff moments. Consider, for instance, that the Titanic's final 90 minutes unfolds in 5 minutes. The model of the ship sinks impossibly quickly, and it's more amusing than moving. The character drama is at times compelling, but Titanic is never thoroughly engrossing. There isn't a great deal of worthwhile character development, and thus everyone is fairly two-dimensional.

Taken as a standalone movie, Titanic is too laughable and not overly effective, though it's still an interesting and recommended watch. Those intrigued by the Titanic disaster should make a particular effort to watch this movie, as it's a fascinating glimpse into a chapter of history we rarely see. Of course, too, it's recommended to those who are merely curious to see how demented the Nazis were. Most interesting is the blatant piece of propaganda at the very end when a title card is displayed that reads: "The deaths of 1,500 people remain unatoned for, an eternal condemnation on the English quest for profit".

5.4/10

Cop Out is indie filmmaker Kevin Smith's first attempt at working within Hollywood's big studio system. However, by all accounts, the studio granted Smith the requisite freedom to make Cop Out his way (like an independent film) as if it was all his own creation. Problem is, this movie is not all Smith's own creation - the script was penned by television writers Robb and Mark Cullen before Smith got involved, making Cop Out the first movie Kevin Smith has directed but not written. This results in a bland, mostly disastrous motion picture. Typical airplane food has more flavour.

The movie, which originally bore the far superior working title of A Couple of Dicks, concerns two veteran NYPD officers Jimmy (Willis) and Paul (Morgan), who are unable to make it 20 minutes into the film without getting suspended for a failed drug bust. Of course, this suspension doesn't prevent the duo from continuing their own investigation on their own time. Jimmy and Paul begin attempting to track down a stolen baseball card collectible that will help Jimmy pay for his daughter's wedding. By either coincidence or contrivance (take your pick), this search leads them to a kidnapped Mexican hottie (Reguera) and an on-the-rise drug kingpin (Díaz) who's wanted by the NYPD.

Unlike the central characters of Cop Out, the entire movie is strictly by-the-book. The screenplay contains all the conventions of the well-worn cop action-comedy genre (it wouldn't be a cop action-comedy without: an irate police captain suspending the protagonists, a pair of rival detectives in the squad, and the heroes doing something right by the end of the film to get reinstated), but the writers never bothered to colour outside the lines. Kevin Smith would consider this stuff as paying homage to all the great '80s action-comedies (Beverly Hills Cop and 48 Hrs. being the best examples), but there's more to a homage than using every cliché in the book. A good homage, or an affectionate parody, is a combination of genuine love and respect for the films being referenced, a keen awareness of the genre, and an ability to pull off something fresh. Scream, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz are the best examples of this. While it's clear Smith loves '80s cop films (let's face it, who doesn't?), he failed to do anything innovative with the expression of that love.

The laughs to be experienced in Cop Out are occasional and generally not of the belly variety. The dialogue falls far short of the level of wit we normally expect from a Kevin Smith production, too, because writers Robb and Mark Cullen are simply not as talented as Smith. Sure, there are a few zingers (the Die Hard reference is a laugh-out-loud moment), but not enough. Smith is merely a gun for hire here, and by a studio hiring him as a director but not a writer, they are playing to his weakness. On top of the lukewarm comedy, the action is not especially exciting, and the dramatic elements (Jimmy's relationship with his daughter, Paul's concern about his wife possibly cheating on him) are flat. The big bad guy is more cartoonish than threatening, and the production values are generally substandard. Since this is Smith's first foray into action cinema, one wouldn't expect first-rate shootouts, so it'd be unfair to judge him too harshly in that respect. But letting Smith edit the picture - whether it was a matter of cost control or a creative decision - was a big mistake. The pacing and flow of the picture is appalling.

With only a handful of action sequences throughout the flick's running time, Cop Out was almost entirely reliant on the below par dialogue to see it through, most of which takes place between Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan. Needless to say, it doesn't get the job done. Actually, most of the dialogue is between Morgan and the wall. Willis' talents are shockingly underexploited, which is especially disappointing considering he's Bruce fucking Willis, a.k.a. John McClane! In Cop Out, Willis is a thankless straight man given barely any clever one-liners or moments of comedy. At least there are a few humorous moments when Seann William Scott shows up. It's a shame, then, that Scott is only in the movie for 15 minutes tops. Scott steals every scene he's in, and Cop Out would've been worthwhile if he was a main player.

Admittedly, one has to grant Cop Out this much: it tries. Smith tried to inject some life into the proceedings by hiring an ideal cast, hiring the guy who scored Beverly Hills Cop to crank out a catchy score (one of the best things about the flick), and filming it like it's straight out of the '80s. While Cop Out is entertaining and amusing from time to time, a handful of laughs and a bunch of unspectacular action sequences are simply not enough to justify an entire motion picture. Someone can get free laughs by surfing the web, and can experience awesome action sequences by watching their favourite '80s movies again. To paraphrase another critic, it's easy to recognise why Smith attached himself to Cop Out: he got to work with Bruce Willis, achieve some mainstream recognition, and receive a healthy paycheck. Yet, the final result works out better for Smith than it does for anyone experiencing the fruit of his labours.

4.2/10