Reviews by PvtCaboose91

By the time Daylight entered multiplexes in 1996, Sylvester Stallone was a fading star. Following the success of Cliffhanger and Demolition Man in 1993, Sly featured in a string of less-than-stellar movies and his career appeared to be running out of steam. Daylight is one of Stallone's late-'90s attempts to erase his tough guy image, expand his horizons and rekindle the success of his earlier movies. In essence, this Rob Cohen-directed disaster flick is a '90s version of The Poseidon Adventure, whereby a group of people become trapped and are facing death after a catastrophic disaster. Thankfully, Daylight is a top-flight disaster thriller overflowing with nail-biting tension and explosive set-pieces of a high calibre. It's the type of flick which would not have felt out of place if released during the 1970s; an era in which Irwin Allen's name was attached to various iconic disaster pics (such as The Towering Inferno and the aforementioned Poseidon Adventure).

In the film, a bunch of runaway thieves are escaping in a getaway car through a large tunnel and slam into a truck filled with toxic waste, causing an explosion of cataclysmic proportions that seals off both exists of the underwater tunnel between New Jersey and Manhattan. A band of ordinary citizens survive the explosion, and are left to fend off the elements in order to work their way back to the surface. But the situation looks grim, with air running low and water seeping through the crumbling walls. Fortunately for them, Sylvester Stallone is on hand. Sly plays Kit Latura; the former head of New York City's Emergency Medical Service who was forced to resign after being blamed for the accidental deaths of some co-workers (sounds like Cliffhanger, doesn't it?).

From this point forward, Daylight transforms into a string of white-knuckle action scenes and near-escapes as Kit struggles to both save the lives of the survivors and redeem himself for past blunders. This is all orchestrated with great vitality by director Rob Cohen. In undertaking the film, Cohen evidently looked to the disaster pictures of yesteryear to glean inspiration, and the resulting picture is infused with a look and feel of the type of films Irwin Allen was famous for producing. With the presence of physically capable Stallone (who was pushing 50 at the time), Cohen was also allowed the freedom to create a disaster film spotlighting an almost superhuman protagonist. Compared to Earthquake, Airport and other classics from the '70s, Daylight is packed with more action than you'd expect from the genre. A lot of the hallmarks of typical disaster films are backgrounded here; allowing more room to showcase Stallone's ability to react to precarious situations. Fortunately, it all comes together nicely. Adrenaline is always appreciated, though it's not as rewarding as films such as Die Hard and Speed which managed to serve up a supplemental mix of humanity and emotion.

When Daylight went before the cameras, special effects had come a long way since The Poseidon Adventure in 1972, and this is therefore a visually dynamic disaster pic. In terms of pyrotechnics, the film delivers the goods in a satisfying fashion. The centrepiece - the explosion inside the tunnel - is breathtaking; easily rivalling the money shots of other '90s disaster features (Independence Day, Twister, etc). Thanks to Cohen, the movie shifts forwards at a nice pace as well. In fact, at no point does Daylight descend into abject boredom - not even during the character building moments. Problem is, the characters are all caricatures that lack defining personalities. There's also a lack of shocks and surprises on account of the way the characters are treated, because only a few are killed. Consequently, we can guess the characters will survive almost every nail-biting situation they encounter. A bunch of richly-drawn characters and a bit less sentimentality could have benefitted the movie - as it is, it's a fairly routine instance of disaster film junk food.

On the acting front, Sylvester Stallone is surprisingly nuanced. As opposed to an emotionless, gun-toting thug, Daylight provided Sly with the chance to play a flawed hero; conveying the kind of emoting he did in Rocky back in the late '70s (for which he earned an Oscar nomination for Best Actor). Epic one-liners are absent for the most part (with the exception of a rather giggle-worthy final line) and the tough-guy act is generally eschewed. Thankfully, too, he imparts great intensity throughout the film (even if his character's back-story is amazingly clichéd). The rest of the cast, ranging from Amy Brenneman to Viggo Mortensen, are generally decent, though none of them are true standouts; they're disaster movie ciphers, and in this sense the actors carried out their duties commendably.

Daylight is packed with merciless tension and moves at a strong pace, not to mention it contains excellent special effects and a great leading performance from Stallone. It's unfortunate that it faded into obscurity over the years (whereas films like Independence Day are more remembered), because this disaster film deserves far more attention.

7.3/10

Among the latest fads in Hollywood is to remake every other horror movie released throughout the 1970s and '80s. Predictably, this has caused an outcry of criticism and a number of bad films to clutter the cinematic climate. However, Wes Craven's directorial debut, 1972's The Last House on the Left, is a film that left room for improvement. Despite its reputation and cult status, the movie has not aged well. Blemished with amateurish performances, low-rent production values and a terribly uneven tone, the original Last House on the Left is merely a footnote in the genre only note-worthy due to the controversy it stirred up as well as the fact that it was Craven's first film. This 2009 remake therefore had serious potential. Unlike the majority of other horror remakes, The Last House on the Left was not begat by Michael Bay's Platinum Dunes, meaning no hack music video director and far more creativity. Luckily, this remake fulfils its potential - it's a gripping experience with solid acting and far more substance than you'd expect to find in such a production.

While several changes were made for this remake, it remains faithful to the original film's basic premise. Mari Collingwood (Sara Paxton) is vacationing with her family at an isolated summer home, and spends an afternoon with her best friend Paige (Martha MacIsaac). The two meet the shy young Justin (Spencer Treat Clark), who invites them to his motel room to smoke weed. Unfortunately, once at the motel, Justin's travelling companions show up: father Krug (Garret Dillahunt), uncle Francis (Aaron Paul), and Krug's girlfriend Sadie (Riki Lindhome). As it turns out, the clan are murderous fugitives, and Justin's extended family are less than pleased to find two visitors in their motel room. After kidnapping the girls and stealing their car, Krug, Francis and Sadie proceed to torture and violently dispose of their captives in front of the horrified Justin. With a violent storm approaching, the four seek refuge at the only nearby house: the house occupied by Mari's parents.

With both Craven and Sean S. Cunningham backing this remake, it could be said that the two were attempting to refine their ambitious 1972 amateur film. In fact, though many die-hard fans have balked at this statement, Wes Craven himself has admitted that the remake is a marked improvement over his original film in several areas. One thing's for sure: this The Last House on the Left is a far more accomplished movie than the 1972 original - the technique is slicker, the script is smoother, and the tone is not as erratic (the element of slapstick humour has been removed, thank goodness). It could be argued that this remake is pointless and unnecessary, yet it feels justified since the filmmakers did not set out to simply emulate every aspect of the original. Rather than a mere shot-for-shot remake, screenwriters Adam Alleca and Carl Ellsworth expand upon Craven's original and add new ideas.

While it may be argued that the cinéma vérité aesthetic of Craven's original added to the visceral impact, the film's technical shortcomings nonetheless stick out like a sore thumb all these years on. For this remake, Greek director Dennis Iliadis proves to be a visually sophisticated filmmaker, and has done an excellent job of sustaining mood and tension, as well as generating and maintaining a powerful, intense atmosphere of dread. In particular, the middle portion of the film is masterfully executed, with build-ups of tension worthy of Hitchcock. The original Last House on the Left gained its notorious reputation due to its overly gory content, and 2009's Last House on the Left is therefore an uncompromisingly violent and gory horror film as well. It features one of the most horrific rape scenes ever committed to celluloid, in addition to violence that's unsettlingly realistic and stomach-churning.

While Michael Bay's name may not be attached to the credits of The Last House on the Left, there are a few sleazy elements that may trick you into thinking you're watching a Bay-produced horror film. For instance, the camera leeringly lingers on Mari's body at the beginning, and the very last scene is a schlocky, unnecessary inclusion merely for the sake of the gore-hounds. Also, the film lacks the intellectual punch of the original, and thus feels a bit more disposable. With that said, however, horror films usually falter on the acting front, but The Last House on the Left excels in this department. Garret Dillahunt and his three companions are far more disquieting than their 1972 counterparts. Dillahunt is the standout here; his work is riveting as the reprehensible Krug. As Krug's brother, Aaron Paul is menacing, while Riki Lindhome is convincing as Sadie. The youthful Spencer Treat Clark is impressive as well, with his performance allowing Justin to emerge as a moral blank slate. Tony Goldwyn and Monica Potter are uniformly exceptional as Mari's parents, while Sara Paxton is appealing as Mari.

Problems in the execution aside, The Last House on the Left is superior to Craven's original; serving up top-calibre cinematic technique, honest-to-goodness tension, an interesting new take on the story and a plethora of excellent performances. It's the best remake in recent memory - perhaps the best remake of a classic horror film ever. Of course, the dedicated fans of the 1972 film may not take kindly to the changes made, yet it's different for the better and this should be recognised. One should take into account that Craven praised this version, and also revealed he won't bother to see the 2010 remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street.

7.6/10

Every filmmaker has to start somewhere. During the 1980s, Wes Craven and Sean S. Cunningham separately developed two of the most lucrative long-running horror franchises in cinematic history: A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Friday the 13th, respectively. Yet, the careers of these two blokes were jump-started by the low-budget 1972 shocker The Last House on the Left, for which Craven and Cunningham collaborated to create. Fundamentally a sadistic, no-holds-barred adaptation of Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring, The Last House on the Left is not for the faint of heart. Due to its explicit content, the film represented an important leap forward in what could be shown on theatre screens. Few prints of the film survived circulation without being butchered by either the distributors or the exhibitors. All these years on, the word most often used to describe this film is "disturbing", and there are numerous scenes to justify this label. Heck, the tagline was as follows: To avoid fainting, keep repeating "It's only a movie...It's only a movie..."

The plot of The Last House on the Left concerns two teenage girls, Mari (Cassell) and Phyllis (Grantham), who venture from secluded suburbia to the big city in order to attend a rock concert for Mari's birthday. While looking to obtain some marijuana, the girls find themselves ensnared by a pair of murderous escaped convicts, Krug (Hess) and Weasel (Lincoln), and their accomplices, Krug's lover Sadie (Rain) and Krug's son Junior (Sheffler). Locked in the truck of a car and taken out into an isolated spot in the woods, the two girls are systematically humiliated, tortured, raped, and eventually murdered. After committing the crime, though, the gang get more than they bargained for when they are forced to show up at the nearest house to spend the night: the home of Mari's parents. Once Mari's mother and father learn of the gang's hideous crimes, they decide to exact brutal revenge.

An amateur $90,000 movie with dizzyingly high ambitions, Wes Craven's low-budget exploitation feature is actually much smarter than some have given it credit for. Due to the raw, rough-edged nature of the moviemaking, it's challenging to perceive Last House on the Left for what it was designed to be: a scornful indictment of violence. Its message is that bloodshed is never the right choice, whether for sadistic purposes or ostensibly justified vengeance. Once Mari's parents slaughter the murderers, nothing is solved: their daughter is still dead, and they've denied their own humanity by avenging Mari. This is underscored by the movie's closing shot, which depicts Mari's parents as defeated, blood-spattered and exhausted, rather than victorious and satisfied. This is the reason why Craven's movie remains more than just gruelling torture porn: it's actually about something.

Several decades after it was first released, The Last House on the Left retains a certain power, and it's virtually impossible not to be affected by the shocking proceedings. Because the girls are portrayed as young and likeable, there's a great deal of honest-to-goodness tension. Meanwhile, the film's ability to shock is still potent due to the dispassionate, grainy documentary filming style which was employed to capture the events. Nothing is stylised, making the film far more gripping and unsettling. The performances, on the other hand, are fairly forgettable, with the exception of Sandra Cassell who's utterly convincing in every frame. As those involved in the production revealed, her on-screen fear was not acting; she was genuinely terrified of her fellow actors. She even decided to leave the production without notice at one stage! Bearing this in mind, it's all the more difficult to stomach the sequences in the woods.

In spite of its legendary status, The Last House on the Left is heavily flawed, mainly due to the pervasively amateurish vibe that extends to most of the staging, the heavy-handed screenplay and the atrocious score. The songs used in the film aren't just grating - they're also wildly incongruent, and in some instances undercut the film's power by calling attention to themselves and mocking the horrors unfolding on-screen. Equally destructive is the inclusion of two bumbling cops: an idiotic sheriff (Anker) and his deputy (Kove). They engage in a series of slapstick misadventures on their way to the location where all the raping and killing is taking place. The shenanigans of these two cops are usually scored with awful banjo music, and the scenes are so bad that fast-forwarding through them is an attractive option. Craven and his crew may have decided to lighten up the severity of the film's imagery with this physical comedy, yet it results in uneven tonal shifts. Also detrimental is a missing narrative beat: Mari's parents are never seen in the act of deciding what they'll do before they begin exacting revenge on Krug's gang.

While the complaints pile up, you cannot deny the power or the importance of The Last House on the Left. The assaults on the two girls in the woods are horrifying, filled with tension, and terrifyingly real. When the film works, it truly works. But there are times when it does not work at all. It's still worth seeing for its historical importance, however.

6.0/10

The first and undeniably the best feature film featuring characters born on Saturday Night Live, 1980's The Blues Brothers is one hell of a fun motion picture with infinite replay value. With a script credited to Dan Aykroyd and director John Landis, this is the Lawrence of Arabia of movies adapted from SNL sketches, an epic yet intimate musical action-comedy that wonderfully blends uproarious broad comedy with sly, understated wit. Consisting of one-third blues music, one-third character-based comedy, and one-third car chases, The Blues Brothers does not feel like a careless genre patchwork - on the contrary, it feels like an epic, flavoursome and entertaining '80s movie that holds together in every way that counts. All these years later, the film retains a tremendous nostalgia kick thanks to the excellent humour, plenty of car chases, numerous iconic musical sequences, one of the best soundtracks in cinema history, and the sparkling rapport between Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi.

For those unfamiliar with the Blues Brothers, the characters originated in a Saturday Night Live sketch before evolving into a blues and soul group independent of the variety show, serving as an opening act for Steve Martin and eventually releasing their 1978 debut album, Briefcase Full of Blues. Soon enough, Aykroyd started working on a feature film screenplay that exceeded 300 pages, more than double the length of a regular movie script, necessitating extensive rewrites by John Landis to pare it down to something usable. Meanwhile, Universal threw their support behind the project to cash in on Belushi's success after Animal House. However, with production costs surging out of control (a portion of the budget was even reportedly set aside for cocaine), The Blues Brothers is one of the most expensive comedies in history, and the studio feared that it might flop. Thankfully, despite the lukewarm reviews, shaky box office prospects and fewer cinema bookings than a regular high-profile release, movie-going audiences quickly realised the film's pervasive charm and flocked to see it.

For such a successful and beloved cult movie that all good film buffs fondly remember, the premise of The Blues Brothers is exceedingly simple. As the story begins, Elwood Blues (Aykroyd) collects his brother Jake Blues (Belushi) from prison after he finishes serving three years for armed robbery. Heading off in their new Bluesmobile, which is just a battered old police car that Elwood acquired at auction, they visit the Catholic orphanage where they were raised. Meeting with a nun known as "The Penguin" (Kathleen Freeman), Jake and Elwood learn that the orphanage will be permanently closed unless they can pay $5,000 in property taxes. Following a chat with their old mentor, Curtis (Cab Calloway), and a sermon by Reverend Cleophus James (James Brown), Jake sees the light and experiences an epiphany: they can reform their old band, play a few gigs, and earn the money to save the orphanage. Setting off on a "mission from God," Jake and Elwood seem to make more enemies than friends along the way.

As it turns out, Jake and Elwood are innate troublemakers and non-stop chaos magnets who cannot achieve a simple task without drawing somebody's ire. The seemingly simple mission of rounding up their old band members and playing some shows becomes an epic catastrophe, with the brothers managing to infuriate state and local law enforcement officials, a group of Neo-Nazis, a country-western band, and a mysterious woman with a fondness for powerful firearms (Carrie Fisher). There is no point in further breaking down the story since The Blues Brothers is not a narrative-driven film with meaningful character arcs; instead, it's a vignette-laden film, with a string of set pieces playing host to gags, stunts, car chases, celebrity cameos and musical interludes. It's episodic filmmaking of the highest order, with director Landis at no point allowing the film's infectious energy to relent as there is always something hilarious or entertaining right around the corner. See, unlike other feature-length expansions of Saturday Night Live sketches, The Blues Brothers is actually clever. An extended version was later released on home video, incorporating an additional 15 minutes of footage that was excised following a preview screening. The longer cut contains more laughs and extended musical sequences, making it an essential watch for die-hard fans. In this reviewer's eyes, it is the superior version.

Admittedly, the technical presentation of The Blues Brothers is imperfect, with some rough-around-the-edges special effects, but this hardly matters in the grand scheme of things, and it actually contributes to the movie's goofy charm. The soundtrack also bears mentioning, as the film is bursting with toe-tapping tunes performed by such musical legends as James Brown, Ray Charles (in one of the film's best scenes), Cab Calloway and Aretha Franklin, all of whom play minor characters. The high-energy musical sequences are a delight. Another of The Blues Brothers' endless pleasures is the performances of Belushi and Aykroyd, both of whom were in their prime during the film's production. Their deadpan delivery is a frequent source of laughs, while broader moments (such as the unforgettable restaurant scene) are equally side-splitting. Additionally, the two actors confidently deliver during the musical scenes, performing acrobatic dance moves on stage. Although Belushi and Aykroyd mainly steal the show, The Blues Brothers features several minor characters played by a dazzling array of guest stars. John Candy, Frank Oz, Carrie Fisher, Charles Napier, John Lee Hooker and even Steven Spielberg earn a few laughs in their respective cameo appearances.

The Blues Brothers features some of the most spectacular and destructive car chases ever committed to celluloid, rivalling the car chase sequences of The French Connection and Bullitt. The film even held the record for the highest number of cars crashed in a motion picture at the time. There's an iconic chase through a shopping mall resulting in all manner of destruction, and dozens of cars pile up and crash during the prolonged climactic chase. Gary McLarty's stunt crew deserve a standing ovation for their efforts, which look all the more impressive in an age of CGI-dominated blockbusters. When it comes to this movie, there is so much bang for your buck. Sure, the antagonists are one-note, and none of the characters learn any life lessons or change their ways, but I wouldn't want The Blues Brothers any other way - it works. Full of belly laughs, contagious energy, toe-tappingly terrific tunes, hundreds of endlessly quotable one-liners, sharp suits and cool shades, The Blues Brothers deserves multiple viewings. No matter what appeals to you, this is a movie that can sustain your interest for 140 minutes. Personally, I cannot imagine anyone feeling dissatisfied after indulging in this marvellous movie, and I always want to watch it again each time I finish another viewing.

10/10

Over recent decades, each of the classic big-screen monsters from the former half of the 20th Century have started receiving glossy, big-budget Hollywood resurrections. This trend was kicked off by Francis Ford Coppola in 1992 with Bram Stoker's Dracula, which was followed two years later by the Kenneth Branagh production Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. In the shadow of these two motion pictures arrived Stephen Sommers' reinvention of The Mummy in the form of an Indiana Jones-style blockbuster action-adventure. This brings us to 2010's The Wolfman; director Joe Johnston's long-delayed reimagining of the 1941 Lon Chaney movie. This retelling of the classic story could've either been a fun, blood-soaked creature feature or a restrained, effective thriller. Unfortunately, it's an uneasy, poorly-paced hodgepodge of these two categories with boring characters and stale dialogue.

This version of The Wolfman takes place in the 1890s on the moors of rural England. Lawrence Talbot (Del Toro) is a Shakespearean actor who returns to his Victorian England homeland once he hears of the disappearance of his brother. Reuniting with his estranged father Sir John Talbot (Hopkins) for the first since he left as a youth, Lawrence arrives to learn his brother's mutilated corpse has been discovered. In the process of discovering who killed his brother, Lawrence is bitten by a werewolf, which transfers the curse to him. It isn't long before the full moon glows, Lawrence begins turning bestial, and the massacre he leaves in his wake begins drawing the attention of both the local villagers and Scotland Yard Inspector Abberline (Weaving, bearing no resemblance to Johnny Depp who played the same character in From Hell).

The Wolfman endured a rather problematical production period during its journey to the big screen, with heavy editorial attention, reshoots and many missed release dates. Even if you were unaware of all the post-production tampering, it's obvious - evidence plagues the final product. The picture is at times incoherent and incomprehensible, with badly handled subplots and jarring tonal changes. At one stage during the film's latter half, flashbacks of Lawrence's early life are shown that make little sense in the grand scheme of things. Meanwhile, the botched romance between Lawrence and his brother's former fiancée Gwen (Blunt) is nonsensical - why does Gwen even love him? In terms of tone, it's clear in the atmospheric visuals and set design that The Wolfman may have been originally designed as a restrained gothic horror film. It's also clear in the gore and the wolf action sequences that someone else wanted to splatter buckets of gore throughout the picture in the hope of satiating the gore hounds.

Where The Wolfman succeeds is in the wolf action scenes and the special effects. Rick Baker's make-up effects are gloriously old-fashioned and effective, and the physical transformation from man to beast looks convincing enough (Baker was an inspired choice to handle the make-up, since he won an Oscar for his efforts on An American Werewolf in London). This picture is a hard R as well; replete with the kind of gory beheadings, dismemberments and disembowelments that could only be suggested back in the era which bore the release of the 1941 original. If you came here wanting hardcore wolf attack sequences, The Wolfman thankfully delivers. The problem, though, is that it takes an hour for the werewolf action to begin, and the gaps between the action scenes suffer from terrible pacing, wooden acting, and sophomoric dialogue. Despite a cast full of Oscar nominees and winners, the script (penned by Andrew Kevin Walker and David Self) never bothers to develop the characters into the first or second dimension, hence a serious lack of humanity. Joe Johnston is the master of bland, after all, having previously directed Jurassic Park III and Jumanji. Thus, with no interesting characters and far too many dead spots, The Wolfman sorely lacks action and is, at the end of the day, quite a bore.

The woefully miscast Benicio Del Toro is a total snooze as Lawrence Talbot. Del Toro apparently lobbied for the role, but he clearly had zero fun with it. The emotional connection is absent, with Del Toro's character generating no empathy and failing to excite emotions. It's a tedious portrayal, and the actor triggers boredom during his dialogue scenes. Surrounding Del Toro is a great deal of talent, though none of the supporting actors were able to submit truly remarkable work. Anthony Hopkins, in his second classic horror remake (he played Van Helsing in Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula), is perhaps the best actor of the bunch, but he was clearly on autopilot. Emily Blunt is forgettable as the thankless, pointless "love interest" with no real purpose, while Hugo Weaving fares better as Abberline.

The Wolfman required a deft touch in order for it to work; it needed skilful pacing and intoxicating build-ups of tension. The Others is a strong modern example of this style done well. Unfortunately, in the case of The Wolfman, neither subtlety nor skill is delivered by the undercooked screenplay or Joe Johnston's direction. More than that, the climax is a total dud; quickly dissolving into an awkwardly naff, cheesy, unsatisfying disaster. Oh well, at least The Wolfman delivers in the werewolf aspect better than New Moon.

4.9/10

The recipe for 1998's Deep Rising is simple: begin with The Poseidon Adventure, mix in a bit of Aliens, Jaws, Titanic, Tremors and any heist film, and top the concoction with a goofy, self-aware sense of humour before adding guns, gore and a campy octopus-like creature. Voila! Written and directed by Stephen Sommers, Deep Rising is a silly and unoriginal hodgepodge of other films, but it is nevertheless an old-fashioned, unpretentious, flat-out fun horror-action picture benefitting from an engaging cast, a non-serious tone, and an enjoyably brisk pace. In essence, it is the type of junk food you know is unhealthy, but it remains eminently edible, and you will undoubtedly return for seconds. Fortunately, Deep Rising entered production back in the 1990s when studios felt more comfortable allocating generous budgets to B-grade, R-rated movies like this and Deep Blue Sea. Indeed, movies like Deep Rising are now mostly relegated to nasty, low-budget offerings from studios like The Asylum.

An enormous luxury cruise ship with a supposedly "impregnable" hull, known as the Argonautica, is making its maiden voyage across the South China Sea with a full load of passengers. Not far behind the Argonautica is a boat captained by freelance rogue Finnegan (Treat Williams). A group of armed mercenaries led by Hanover (Wes Studi) hire Finnegan and his crew, including second-in-command Joey Pantucci (Kevin J. O'Connor), to transport them to an undisclosed rendezvous point in the South China Sea. After a collision with a smaller vessel damages Finnegan's boat, the mercenaries take control and announce their plans to rob the Argonautica before sinking it. However, the Argonautica is empty when the group boards the ship. Soon enough, they discover the reason: a giant, tentacled, man-eating sea monster has devoured the majority of the ship's occupants.

With a monster on the loose and a sizeable ensemble of potential victims, Deep Rising adopts a predictable pattern of cat and mouse aboard the gradually sinking Argonautica, with the cavalcade of characters getting picked off one at a time by the marauding sea creature. The creature adheres to the expected tropes for movie monsters and slasher film villains - it is a powerful mass of spiked tentacles and endless rows of teeth, and it possesses the uncanny ability to reach any part of the ship at the most convenient time. Deep Rising is derivative and predictable, but so what? Not even the filmmakers would try to argue this point; therefore, Sommers infuses the flick with a delightful tongue-in-cheek sensibility, ensuring the viewing experience is fun despite its inherent flaws. After all, how could anyone take this material seriously? For crying out loud, the creature sucks a woman down a toilet bowl! Sommers also drenches his screenplay in one-liners and comedic moments, which is why the film is such a bona fide guilty pleasure.

Before Deep Rising, Sommers had only helmed two other features, both of which were children's films: The Adventures of Huck Finn and The Jungle Book. One cannot mistake Deep Rising for anything close to resembling a children's film, though, since it contains as many gross-out moments of violence and gore as Sommers could think of...or as many as the MPAA allowed him to get away with. Indeed, whereas big-budget monster movies typically cater to the PG-13 blockbuster crowd, this is a vehemently R-rated endeavour, which significantly benefits the production as it enhances the sense of fun and adds an edge to the bloodshed. Sommers excels as a director of cinematic junk food, and Deep Rising is further evidence of this talent. The pace is taut, the action is exciting, and the $45 million budget is put to wise use with impressively large sets and some respectable special effects courtesy of ILM. Jerry Goldsmith's flavoursome accompanying score is fantastic, as well. The digitally-created creature is not always convincing, and it is downright atrocious in some shots, but it's good enough most of the time, especially considering the modest budget and the film's vintage. Deep Rising was Sommers' first film to heavily rely on digital effects, paving the way for the director's follow-up project, 1999's beloved classic The Mummy.

In the acting department, the late Treat Williams is impeccable as the Han Solo-esque hero (Harrison Ford turned down this role), coming across as commanding and charismatic. Familiar faces fill out the supporting cast, including the appealing Famke Janssen (GoldenEye) as a pickpocket who was imprisoned in a storage cupboard before the monster's initial attack, while Anthony Heald relishes the chance to play the ship's sleazy creator and owner, Simon Canton. Kevin J. O'Connor, who went on to feature in The Mummy the following year, is on hand as the film's comic relief, and he is an enjoyable presence here. It is possible to care enough about this central trio to want to see them survive, which is a major positive. Meanwhile, the mercenaries ooze masculinity and deliver no-nonsense dialogue, with the likes of Cliff Curtis, Djimon Hounsou, an authoritative Wes Studi and a scene-stealing Jason Flemyng effectively playing these roles. There is a noticeable Aliens vibe to the colourful mercenaries fighting back against the monster.

Although there are horror elements, Deep Rising is not strictly a horror movie, as Sommers mostly favours goofy action scenes over unbearable tension or suspense. There are some intense scenes as the characters try to evade death, but this is not a scary movie. If you wish to criticise Deep Rising for its tongue-in-cheek silliness, the endless clichés, the one-dimensional characters and the lack of dramatic depth, you can. Hell, you have every right to. Deep Rising wears its flaws on its sleeve, but it throttles forward with such playful abandon that it's easy to overlook the rough spots to enjoy this goofy monster movie. It's an early example of Sommers' unique entertainment brand, solidified in later years by such titles as The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. Switch off your brain and enjoy this movie for what it is.

7.2/10

Joel & Ethan Coen's 2007 project, No Country for Old Man, was an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Cormac McCarthy, and earned an Academy Award for Best Picture. Prior to this, McCarthy's novels had been predominantly ignored by moviemakers, as his prose had been perceived as challenging to cinematically adapt. 2009's The Road is based on one of the author's most innately non-cinematic books. With this in mind, it's hard not to be impressed by the efforts of director John Hillcoat and screenwriter Joe Penhall in adapting the novel for the screen. Yet, while the film is impressive as a straight-up adaptation, everything from the novel seems translated in a workmanlike manner. The resulting motion picture is not awful per se, but it's more of a companion piece to McCarthy's book than an invigorating new take on the story. It's two hours of empty unpleasantness and atmosphere building, minus an emotional impact.

The movie takes place in a post-apocalyptic future, where an undefined catastrophe has occurred rendering the planet uninhabitable. Nothing can grow, wild life did not survive, and natural disasters such as earthquakes have destroyed the environmental balance. At the centre of The Road is two survivors: Father (Mortensen) and Son (Smit-McPhee), who have carried out the same lonely, aimless day-to-day routine of existence for years. Father and Son traverse the roads with only a vague goal in mind of reaching the coast and heading south in the hope of finding other people. There are dangers aplenty along the way, however, including disease, cannibalistic gangs, and, most pressingly, starvation.

As those who have read McCarthy's novel can attest to, this is a tough story about loss, death, and the fine line dividing man and animal. It raises interesting questions about if survival is truly desirable in such a harsh climate. Moreover, it erases action heroes from the post-apocalyptic equation to focus on a more unexciting tale. Translating this from book to screen would've posed a challenge, due to movie-goers being accustomed to seeing action-packed survival stories occurring within a post-apocalyptic environment (Mad Max and its sequels, for instance). Director John Hillcoat was an ideal choice to handle this material, as his last film The Proposition was tonally similar. From a visual standpoint, The Road is harrowing, with incredible shots of broken cities, blackened forests and wide expanses of dead country. The sky is grey & black, with the weather alternating between rainy and overcast. Colour is desaturated, with the sun only glimpsed in brief flashbacks. Indeed, The Road could have been filmed in black and white.

The problem is that the above plot synopsis is...literally it. This minuscule premise is not expanded upon in any interesting way, but rather unnecessarily stretched out to a gruelling two hours. It's a film built upon a non-existent story with no character arcs or true narrative beats, and with hardly any conflict. It's two hours of nothingness, with Hillcoat offering the viewer nothing to chew on but utter finality and nothing to indulge in but utter agony. Films and books are two completely different mediums, and a successful novel adaptation must be willing to deviate from the source material in inventive ways. It's not that The Road needed frequent action and testosterone; it just needed to be interesting and enthralling. 12 Angry Men (the 1957 original, of course) is a visually dull movie which takes place in a single room, yet it's riveting and well-written, with dynamite dialogue, rich characters and interesting arcs. Father and Son in The Road are boring, thinly-drawn figures, and the flashbacks to their former life are not enough to make the slog more tolerable. Sure, while you can admire what has been done here (and yes, I get what they were trying to do), at the end of the day it's like watching paint dry.

Even if what happens throughout the film is not especially interesting, Viggo Mortensen is usually compelling to watch in the lead role. Mortensen clearly threw himself into the character physically and mentally, as his performance is perpetually focused and the actor's body looks starved. The young Kodi Smit-McPhee, on the other hand, is never truly convincing - he merely hits the same shrill notes of naïveté over and over again, as well as asking frustrating questions. It's a poorly-written character brought to life in a soulless portrayal. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is filled with high-profile actors who receive little more than cameos: Charlize Theron as the Mother, Robert Duvall as an old man, and Guy Pearce who shows up at the end as a survivor who also wanders the desolate planet.

The Road looks good and has its moments, sure, yet it's just too agonising, depressing and difficult to sit through. It could have worked as a half-hour film, or a 10-minute short, but two full hours? It is not engaging or interesting enough to justify its runtime.

5.8/10

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