Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"Sometimes I wish I was dead. I'll be okay, I guess, 'cause I'm lookin' up. Lookin' for something to fall..."

A raw, confronting depiction of the horrors of black poverty in America, Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire is drawing a distinctly mixed response. To be fair, the detractors (like the controversial Armond White, who called it "a carnival of black degradation" but proceeded to use Norbit, Meet Dave and Little Man as examples of "excellent recent films with black themes") do seem to be in the minority considering the Oscar nominations, the Sundance awards, dozens of positive reviews and the official sanction of Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry. But, with that said, I personally believe it's important to listen to both sides, because Precious - although powerful and well-acted - is faulted in ways that are hard to ignore, and the mixed response offers fascinating insight into the divided views of how race should be portrayed in motion pictures.

The titular character of the movie is 16-year-old Claireece "Precious" Jones (Sidibe), whose life problems read like a laundry list of ghetto horrors: she's morbidly obese, illiterate and profoundly depressed. She's the victim of incest, too - her father has repeatedly raped her, leading to one child with another on the way. Home is no refuge: she lives with her verbally and physically abusive mother Mary (Mo'Nique), who treats her like an animal but needs her to keep the welfare cheques coming. Due to her tough upbringing, Precious constantly retreats from the world in favour of a glamorous fantasy life. When the school principal finds out about Precious' latest pregnancy, she enrols the troubled teen in a special education program for at-risk girls. When Precious is steered towards this special education program, she meets the impossibly-named Blu Rain (Patton); a teacher so unrealistically patient and empathetic that you could be forgiven for wondering if she is another one of Precious' fantasy constructs. From here on in, the narrative is in firmly clichéd territory.

What's frustrating about the film is the number of outlandish fantasy sequences that occur whenever Precious attempts to mentally block out her darkest moments. Although such scenes may work on paper, they prove distracting when converted to screen, and at times these tonal shifts are downright jarring. Additionally, there are a few scenes that feel incredibly out of place, such as a scene shared by Mary and Precious in the form of a black & white foreign movie. Director Lee Daniels also pushes the melodramatic buttons too hard. He forcibly slams home every message when a gentle tap would be sufficient. It's easy to get a reaction using such themes as incest and parental abuse, but Daniels manipulates each new development for all the tears he can jerk out of it. Another gross miscalculation is that Precious' final transformation happens without the audience, and the end feels rushed and random.

One of the most controversial aspects of the movie is the way it handles the issue of race - most prominently, that Precious has grown to resent her black skin as a signifier of her poverty and misery. In one scene of the movie, which is taken directly from the novel, Precious describes herself as "ugly black grease to be wiped away", and through her interior monologues she makes it clear that she desires a "light-skinned boyfriend with real nice hair". The extent to which she despises her skin colour is further evidenced during a scene in which she looks into her bedroom mirror, and the reflection she sees is what she wants to be: a white girl with long blonde hair. In fact, as critics have pointed out, the filmmakers appear to support Precious' misconception of the value of skin colour by portraying almost all the positive characters as light-skinned: Paula Patton as the empathetic teacher, Lenny Kravitz as a nurse who explains to Precious the benefits of a healthy diet and makes her feel pretty, and Mariah Carey as the well-meaning social worker. Even if the movie doesn't reach the levels of racism some critics have accused it of, it's hard to ignore these implications.

(SPOILERS AHEAD) Here's the unforgivable problem: while some have labelled Precious as inspirational and uplifting, it isn't. As a matter of fact, the message it delivers is that even if you work hard and struggle, it probably won't do you any good. When the movie ends, Precious has escaped her mother but is doomed to die from AIDS. Or if the AIDS doesn't kill her, the diabetes probably will. Either way, Precious is doomed. She attends school and tries to learn, but she could've remained illiterate and stupid since she's still screwed. Education without any opportunity for application is useless. Barely anything changes for Precious, and the events of the movie only worsen her life. This is not a source of inspiration. The only worthwhile message it imparts is that one should be more upbeat despite life's challenges. (SPOILERS END)

On a positive note, the performances are uniformly amazing. For the film's 110-minute runtime, Gabourey Sidibe is Precious Jones - there are no awkward moments, times when she seems forced or unnatural, or instances when she fails to convince. Mo'Nique, who earned an Oscar nomination, sheds her comic persona and disappears into the frightening, self-loathing Mary, who represents a portrait of the self-pitying monster Precious may develop into if she doesn't escape. At the same time, however, Mary is far from one-note - despite the extremity of her actions, she is at one point allowed the opportunity to explain, but never excuse, all that she has done.
As Blu Rain, Paula Patton is deeply alluring, though the character never seems to be anything but a miraculous saviour for Precious. Another compelling performance is delivered by Mariah Carey, who's virtually unrecognisable in her small but memorable role that she absolutely nails.

All criticisms aside, Precious remains a powerful, moving motion picture. It immerses its viewers into Precious' grim world, and hammers home the harshness of her existence through provocative visual associations and an unrelenting sense of dirt and darkness. As a result of some fairly big miscalculations, however, Precious fails to live up to its hype. There's undeniable humanity and emotion pervading the movie, but in the end it comes across as an unspectacular succession of vignettes in which awful people find themselves in awful situations. As a cinematic experience, it's just unpleasant and unsatisfying.

6.2/10

"Alice! You're terribly late, you know. Naughty."

It was a match made in film heaven: visionary writer-director Tim Burton (who's responsible for some of the most aesthetically innovative films of recent decades) taking charge of an adaptation of Lewis Carroll's classic fairytale Alice in Wonderland. Those concerned about the project due to Burton's handling of another much-loved children's classic (lookin' at you, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) can safely allow their fears to be alleviated. Thankfully, Alice in Wonderland is a lovingly crafted "re-imagining" of Carroll's original tale that once again sees Burton at the top of his game. Through updating the source material for what could be considered a sequel of sorts, Burton and screenwriter Linda Woolverton have created a breathtaking fantasy adventure bursting with surprises and endearing characters.

The movie kicks off with a 6-year-old Alice (Challen) suffering from a series of what she believes to be bad dreams which take place in a wondrous land full of strange talking creatures. From there, the story flashes forward 13 years to find Alice (now played by Wasikowska) as a mature-age girl attempting to navigate through Victorian society. After chasing a rabbit at her own (unwanted) engagement party, she falls down the proverbial rabbit hole and is once again whisked to the magical kingdom of Underland. Here she encounters the motley crew of past friends she no longer remembers, including the Mad Hatter (Depp), Tweedledum and Tweedledee (Matt Lucas in dual roles), the White Rabbit (Sheen) and the irresistible Cheshire Cat (Fry). But Underland, which was mispronounced as "Wonderland" by Alice when she was young, is now being ruled by the Red Queen (Carter). With the lives of her friends at stake, Alice embarks on a fantastical journey to find her true destiny and end the Red Queen's reign of terror.

Burton's Alice in Wonderland is more action-driven than previous incarnations of the story, and "Alice the action heroine" may not be what Lewis Carroll had in mind, but it nevertheless works. The approach will likely irk the purists (what won't?), but this version of the story is more film-friendly. After all, it solves the problem that marred previous adaptations: the story, as Burton said himself, just came across as a girl wandering around from one crazy character to another. "I never felt any real emotional involvement," the director said of prior Alice in Wonderland films, "so I wanted to really to give it some framework and emotional grounding that I felt had never been seen in any previous versions. I want to make a movie of Alice that's more of a story than just a series of weird events." Thus, this adaptation provides the story with direction, purpose and momentum. That said, the story is pretty conventional - it feels like a Narnia adventure. All the narrative needed was a few of the amusing vignettes that Carroll's novel was filled with. Without them it loses a bit of the spirit, and feels a bit too by-the-numbers - the conventional story even gives way to a final battle sequence.

Alice in Wonderland is unmistakably a Tim Burton production. The entire adventure borrows heavily from Carroll's dark, often bleak illustrations and character designs, and it's rich soil for Burton, whose aesthetical eye often matches with the spectacular vistas of Underland. The magical kingdom that has been concocted here is up there with James Cameron's Avatar in terms of immediate visual impact. The key difference between the two, however, rests with Burton's careful integration of real-world sets and props with the vibrant CGI animation.
While the film's trailers implicated a heavy-handed approach to the host of computer-generated characters, they are in fact brought to vivid life using phenomenal, state-of-the-art effects of such a high standard that it's at times difficult to discern where live-action ends and the CGI begins. Also effective is composer Danny Elfman's dark, dramatic score that compounds the perpetual sense of wonderment.

While Burton did manage to dodge the pratfalls he could've easily succumbed to, there are a few thorns which still stick out. Most notable of the film's flaws is the fact that the enterprise has been unmistakably commercialised, with plotting that feels rushed in order to keep the runtime at a taut, family-friendly length. It's probably too much of a snobby critic-ey aspect to point out as it doesn't affect one's enjoyment of the movie at all, but it would have been great to spend an extra 10 or 20 minutes in Burton's playground. Another unforgivable foible is the choice of an Avril Lavigne pop tune for the opening track of the end credits. It's a poor way to cross the finish the line of an otherwise superb home run of a flick.

Youthful Australian actress Mia Wasikowska is delightful as the headstrong Alice; embodying the character brilliantly and boasting an effortless on-screen charisma. Prior to Alice in Wonderland, Wasikowska's only notable movies were 2007's Rogue and 2008's Defiance, but this will almost definitely prove to be her breakout performance - there's "Hollywood starlet" written all over her. It's only a bonus that the naturally talented actress is also beautiful.
Alongside Wasikowska, the endlessly versatile Johnny Depp is wonderful as the Mad Hatter. An eccentric and enthralling portrayal, Depp manages to prevent himself from overplaying the role that could've easily toppled into lazy exaggeration. Depp's expressive eyes and manic, often accent-shifting delivery (at times using a roaring Scottish accent) consistently hits the right notes. Interestingly, Alice in Wonderland marks the seventh collaboration of Burton and Depp.

The supporting characters are all extremely appealing as well. The standout is without a doubt Stephen Fry as the Cheshire Cat. Not only are the digital effects excellent, but Fry's vocal work is spot on. It's a pitch-perfect depiction of the character in every respect. Helena Bonham Carter, meanwhile, shines bright as the Red Queen. From her very first moments on screen, chances are you'll be enthralled by Helena's lively performance and the digital effects bringing the Red Queen to life. In amongst the all-star cast, there's also Alan Rickman as the Caterpillar, Crispin Glover as the Knave of Hearts, Matt Lucas in the dual role of Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Anne Hathaway as the White Queen, and Michael Sheen as the White Rabbit - all of whom are superb.

Reinventing Alice in Wonderland for the digital age must've proved a daunting task for Tim Burton, but the final product is invigorating and confidently-handled. The kids will no doubt delight in the colours and images, while Burton aficionados will devour the sumptuous visual feast on offer. In short, it's an immensely enjoyable ride, and it's easy to get swept up in the magic of Burton's creation.

7.9/10

"This film is a dramatization of events that occurred October 1st through the 9th of 2000, in the Northern Alaskan town of Nome."

Similar to The Blair Witch Project and the recent Paranormal Activity, 2009's The Fourth Kind is a faux docudrama which depicts unnerving happenings through supposedly "authentic" footage. However, whereas Blair Witch and Paranormal Activity dealt with the realm of the supernatural, The Fourth Kind uses the coveted technique to tell the story of a supposedly real alien abduction. While not the first movie to use the suggestion of truth in order to sell an exhaustively fictional tale, The Fourth Kind is far more aggressive; frequently claiming through subtitles and to-camera asides that the narrative is word-for-word true. All the chutzpah promises a skin-crawling motion picture, yet, for all the hot air it generates, the movie is ineffective more often than not, and its "hook" is actually its greatest detraction.

Following a personal introduction by Milla Jovovich which promises that disturbing documentary footage is in store, the film focuses on the "real" and the reel Dr. Abigail Tyler (played by Jovovich during re-enactments) as she recounts her tale of alleged alien abduction. A psychologist in the Alaskan town of Nome, Abby employs hypnosis to help her patients recall events that they've blocked out, but soon realises a lot of them are recounting the same scenario. She comes to believe that these people are the victim of alien abduction and experimentation, and soon finds herself to be the latest target of these extraterrestrials.

As passionate a hoax as it may be, The Fourth Kind is still a hoax - it could even be considered entertainment fraud. That said, if you had no prior knowledge of the movie before watching it, and believed the story to be true as we're told, chances are you'd find it horrific and satisfying. And, to the credit of the filmmakers, some of the "real" footage manages to keep you on the fence as to whether it's genuine or not, even if you've heard it's fake. Heck, it may cause you to conduct days of research. The problem is that the filmmakers spent so much time making the thing seem real that basic narrative requirements are neglected, such as character development and plot momentum. And once you're aware it isn't real, you might choose to focus on the ridiculousness of the happenings that debunk its veracity, such as the wild-eyed Nome sheriff (Patton) coming this close to beating the hell out of Abby in her own home over claims of alien abduction, even though one of his own officers witnessed something in the sky and went on record saying so. The Fourth Kind is the type of film that would work better as a television movie or a Discovery Channel event. It could have also worked if a more conventional approach had been employed.

Director Olatunde Osunsanmi presents many scenes as "recreations" with professional actors assuming the identities of their counterparts. In an attempt to enhance the illusion, split-screen sequences are utilised which depict the "documentary" footage alongside these recreations. This may sound like an intriguing idea in theory, but in practise it's utterly disastrous. Since the most cursory Googling will quickly reveal the "real" footage is in fact fabricated, it means viewers are essentially being asked to watch a low-budget horror movie and its glossier remake at the same time. Added to this, all hope of character identification and genuine involvement in the story is jettisoned on account of this approach. See, films like Blair Witch and Paranormal Activity succeeded because they're entirely comprised of the "real" footage, and it's therefore easier to accept the illusion. The consequence of mixing "real" footage with traditional filmmaking techniques is a heavily contrived production. If the "authentic" footage and recordings are at the director's disposal, why not use them whenever possible and fill in the blanks using titles or the actors when necessary? Why not construct the narrative conventionally, complete with character development, and use the "authentic" footage and recordings sparingly? Better yet, why not abort the whole gimmick?

The title of The Fourth Kind is a reference to J. Allen Hynek's four categorisations of alien encounters. In accordance with Hynek's theories, the first kind = sighting, the second kind = evidence, the third kind = contact, and the fourth kind = abduction (Steven Spielberg referenced these categorisations back in the '70s with Close Encounters of the Third Kind). While the title of The Fourth Kind may spark interest with UFO enthusiasts, the product is too underwhelming to recommend. There are a few genuinely creepy sequences and images sprinkled throughout the film's runtime, but the material is too tame to generate any memorable horror (consider the PG-13 rating), and too contrived to work on a dramatic level.

5.3/10

"Don't you get it? You're a rat in a maze."

It's a curious decision on the part of Martin Scorsese to follow the success of his Oscar-winning crime saga The Departed with Shutter Island; a psychological thriller that would seem beneath the director's cinematic abilities. It's interesting to note this fact, since Scorsese did exactly the same thing two decades ago when he followed GoodFellas with his Cape Fear remake, which could also be labelled as a psychological thriller that's beneath Scorsese's cinematic prowess. This is something to be admired about Scorsese: despite his tendency to create gangster/crime pictures, he refuses to be pigeonholed.

Based on the novel by Dennis Lehane, Shutter Island is an atmospheric, masterfully-crafted mind-fuck of a thriller endowed with a dense narrative. Set in 1954, the movie opens with federal marshal Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) and his new partner Chuck Aule (Ruffalo) travelling via boat to Shutter Island, which is home to the Ashcliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The marshals arrive on the island to investigate the disappearance of a patient named Rachel Solando (Mortimer) who appears to have vanished without a trace. Those running the facility, Cawley (Kingsley) and Naehring (von Sydow), are less than open about what's going on behind-the-scenes on the island, and their unhelpfulness leads Teddy to suspect that everything is not what it appears to be.

To further explain the plot would potentially ruin the experience of Shutter Island. As the narrative unfolds, more layers of the plot gradually unravel, which leads you to question every single detail. From the beginning, it's clear something is "off", and, as a result, it's impossible to fully trust anything we see or anything we're told via explication. Suffice to say, Shutter Island is such a dense motion picture that it requires more than one viewing to entirely appreciate. As a matter of fact, a second viewing is demanded, as the movie is filled with little details, clues and moments which would otherwise seem inconsequential, but adopt a starkly different meaning once the true nature of the story is known. To the credit of director Scorsese, he's capable of keeping a viewer rapt and thoroughly engaged as each new twist is revealed. In particular, it's hard not to bite your nails as the dynamite third act unfolds. Scorsese's sense of pacing is impeccable, which is high praise for a movie running at over 130 minutes. However, the film's major fault is that Scorsese perpetually keeps us at arm's-length. Throughout the proceedings we observe the characters from a distance, and it's difficult to empathise with them.

Right from the opening shots, Scorsese establishes an atmosphere of gloom and uncertainty that permeates the entire film, and borrows liberally from noir and conventional horror to convey this story. Scorsese expertly transports viewers to this frightening world, and it feels as if the movie was truly shot within a 1950s asylum due to the authenticity and ominous nature that's established through masterful cinematography, production design, music and sound. Scorsese took advantage of every opportunity to fill his frame with something unsettling, such as a sequence within a Civil War-era building whichs feel like something from a balls-out horror movie. Shutter Island is simply one of Scorsese's best-looking motion pictures to date; full of arresting imagery and spellbinding compositions courtesy of expert cinematographer Robert Richardson, and assembled with great zeal by Scorsese's veteran editor Thelma Schoonmaker. While the musical score is indeed effective most of the time, it's occasionally too overbearing, imposing and distracting.

In this, Leonardo DiCaprio's fourth collaboration with Scorsese (clearly he's the director's new go-to actor in the post-De Niro era), the star turns in another strong, mature performance. Much like The Departed, Scorsese and DiCaprio have created a spellbinding portrait of a man on the verge of losing his grip. There are layers to DiCaprio's exceptional performance that should become more evident during additional viewings, and he's clearly one of few actors who can bring such a superb level of depth, complexity and subtlety to an obsessed, unhinged character. Thankfully, Scorsese filled the movie with an able supporting cast for DiCaprio. Screen legend Ben Kingsley is nuanced and creepy as one of Ashcliffe's administrators, while Max von Sydow is positively Satanic as another. Accomplished character actor Emily Mortimer is utterly skin-crawling for every frame in which she features, while Michelle Williams is ethereal and at times enthralling as a hallucinatory vision of Teddy's deceased wife. Mark Ruffalo unfortunately ends up feeling rather short-changed in the role as Teddy's partner, but he remains watchable and effective nonetheless.

Prior to Shutter Island, two of Dennis Lehane's novels were successfully converted into motion pictures. Clint Eastwood adapted Mystic River in 2003, and in 2007, Ben Affleck helmed an adaptation of Gone Baby Gone. Hollywood's decision makers would be wise to purchase the rights to the rest of Lehane's books if they haven't already, as the man's stories appear to bring out the best in filmmakers. And now, Scorsese is the latest director to mine gold from Lehane's challenging prose with this compelling, well-made thriller that grabs you early on and refuses to loosen its grasp. It was a worrying decision for Paramount Pictures to move Shutter Island from its comfortable October release slot to the wastelands of February, and it sparked discussion about the quality of the final product. While this release date shift may have implied the movie is of subpar quality, it's in fact a solid, Oscar-worthy tour de force.

8.8/10

"My name is Malone. In my line of work, you have to knife before you're punched, and shoot before you're knifed. Because there's one golden rule that has never been broken: once you're dead, you stay that way."

Though Give 'Em Hell, Malone carries the appearance of a '40s-style gangster flick, in actuality it's a stylised noir-esque actioner which resembles Dick Tracy or Sin City more than any crime picture of the 1940s. As a matter of fact, director Russell Mulcahy (Highlander, Resident Evil: Extinction) and first-time writer Mark Hosack have assembled Give 'Em Hell, Malone using countless contrasting elements - a MacGuffin similar to those used in film noirs of old, a psychotic villain ostensibly derived from Heath Ledger's performance in The Dark Knight, a samurai girl reminiscent of something from Kill Bill, and a plot as simplistic as Shoot 'Em Up. While the product is indeed a fun ride, the combination of such elements is baffling.

The story kicks off with a shootout as Malone (Jane) battles his way through a bunch of hoods in a seedy hotel to collect a mysterious briefcase. Unbeknownst to Malone, this briefcase is of great interest to a local mob boss, and thus a horde of armed enforcers are dispatched to retrieve it. Naturally, these enforcers are equipped with standard villain names like Matchstick (Hutchinson), Boulder (Rhames) and Mauler (Yen). Plenty of other convoluted machinations are occurring as well, but that's the basic gist of the plot: Malone has something, and a bunch of colourful villains are keen to pry it from him.

For a movie like Give 'Em Hell, Malone, it's a requirement for one to roll with the punches. One has to accept, for instance, that Malone leaves a large pile of bodies in his wake after shooting up a hotel, yet the cops won't be searching for him. One also has to accept that Malone, after getting shot, simply strolls home to his mother (Ryan) who lives in a retirement village and waits for her son to show up every now and then with a gunshot wound which she dresses with her ready-made kit. More importantly, the movie is jarringly anachronistic. Give 'Em Hell, Malone appears to have been designed as a throwback to the private dick pictures of old, but there are severe inconsistencies. For example, while Malone dons a fedora and trench-coat, and rides around in an ancient-looking, round-fender sedan, a lot of the characters surrounding him drive newer-looking cars, dress in different styles, and use mobile phones. All of this creates a baffling, indeterminate time frame for the story to unfold in. Though this is likely just suggesting that private dick pictures are timeless, it's not pulled off with any degree of style. Rather than a cinematic look, the low-budget origins are painfully obvious. Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller pulled off the concept of such an indeterminate time period far more effectively in Sin City.

Similarly, the acting is all over the place. On the one hand, Thomas Jane is agreeably badass, crabby and sardonic as Malone, and it's definitely a role that suits the actor. On the other hand, Doug Hutchinson had seemingly forgotten that filming for Punisher: War Zone wrapped years ago, as he appears to heavily channel his performance as Loony Bin Jim from that particular film. While Ving Rhames is fun as one of the antagonists, Gregory Harrison is incredibly boring as the central villain. And as the trademark femme fatale of the picture, Elsa Pataky gets credit for doing what she can with her thankless role, but she's hardly memorable. Rounding out the cast is an amusing Eileen Ryan as Malone's mother, and an amusing French Stewart as a sleazy singer who works retirement homes.

Once you allow yourself to go with the movie's flow, Give 'Em Hell, Malone is an easy sit-though - director Russell Mulcahy telegraphs his intentions about delivering a good old-fashioned shoot 'em up early into the film with a highly impressive gun battle, and rarely lets up. Also, writer Mark Hosack gets credit for his ability to at times skilfully replicate the dynamite dialogue of 1940s film noirs. Yet, as enjoyable as this movie is, it'd almost inarguably have been more successful as a darker, grittier, and simpler contemporary movie. Bottom line? Thomas Jane is badass, and the movie is a cool, enjoyable ride if accepted at surface level.

5.5/10

Needy: "You're killing people?"
Jennifer: "No. I'm killing boys."

A more apt title for Jennifer's Body would be Megan's Body, as the physical attractiveness of star Megan Fox is the sole reason why anyone would spend their hard-earned dollars to view this tosh. Horror, comedy and teen angst are the genres explored by the picture, yet it unfortunately fails at all of them - and the word "fails" is probably too kind. It's not scary enough to be an effective horror film, nor satirical enough to work as a comedy, nor insightful enough to serve as a commentary on teen angst or men's fear of female sexuality. As a matter of fact, the scariest thing about this movie is that this is the second script written by Diablo Cody, whose screenwriting debut, Juno, earned her an Oscar. Cody takes a gigantic leap backwards with this phenomenal disaster - there are so many things wrong with the film that it'd be easier to pinpoint the limited number of positives.

To sum up the plot: Needy (Seyfried) is a typical nerdy high school girl whose best friend is the popular, hotter-than-hot Jennifer (Fox). They are complete opposites, but they've been close since childhood. On the evening of a local concert, a fiery disaster strikes, leaving Jennifer alone in a van with the emo band that was performing. During the course of the night's events, Jennifer is transformed into some blood-sucking vampire, and begins killing off young men from her school to quench her hunger. Needy notices the sudden change in her friend, and suspects Jennifer may be possessed by a demon. And not one named Michael Bay...

Jennifer's Body is only skin deep, and never manages to capitalise on the ideas and themes it hints at. According to producer Jason Reitman, the film was designed to speak of female empowerment and explore friendship. Unfortunately, it's not interesting enough to succeed on any count. There's also some impressive underlying symbolism here, but that can't excuse the downright illiterate filmmaking. Clever shit is still uninteresting shit, and symbolism means nothing if the film is not in the least bit enjoyable. The concept of a local high school girl being a genuine man-eater is also bursting with both horrific and comic potential, yet Cody and director Karyn Kusama never properly exploit it. In addition, several plot elements are left unexplored - law enforcement officials, for instance, are either too inept or too non-existent to collect DNA from the blood-spattered crime scenes to identify Jennifer as the serial killer.

Diablo Cody struck gold with Juno, and for Jennifer's Body the screenwriter refused to tone down her trademark smart-alecky dialogue. Chock full of sharp zingers spoken by wise-beyond-their-years teens, the script is marred by a false confidence - lines strive to be clever and hip, but more often than not feel contrived and shallow. Also, whereas Juno was populated with real characters, Jennifer's Body is entirely devoid of them - the film instead features mouthpieces devoid of personality that exist to utter Cody's self-consciously quirky dialogue. Director Karyn Kusama's last film was the disastrous Aeon Flux, so her directorial credentials are already questionable, and therefore she may be guilty for more than a few of the feature's flaws. Both Kusama and Cody were inexperienced in the field of horror prior to Jennifer's Body, and they should not be allowed to tackle the genre ever again.

The central attraction of Jennifer's Body (and, arguably, its only attraction) is Megan Fox. The casting of Fox is almost oddly appropriate since, up until now, people know her almost exclusively as the fetishised, empty object of Michael Bay's leering camera lens in the Transformers movies. Alas, her acting in Jennifer's Body is as plastic and one-dimensional as her prior work. If you plan to see this movie to ogle Megan Fox for 100 minutes, you should be aware that she never gets naked. There isn't even a tits shot. Ho-hum. Interestingly, pairing Fox with Amanda Seyfried was an unwise choice, because Seyfried can act, and her abilities make Fox's deficiencies far more glaring. And what of the much-hyped make-out session between Fox and Seyfried? There's plenty of tongue-lashing in the scene, but it's so random and unjustified that it underwhelms. As for the rest of the supporting cast? None of the males are even slightly memorable, though J.K. Simmons appears briefly in a fun minor role.

Jennifer's Body would have at least been enjoyable had it been a terrible movie one could laugh at, but instead it's an excruciating genre flick unable to produce both intentional and unintentional laughs. Lacking a creative spark, the movie mostly bores with its monotonous foolishness, turning genre ingredients into agonizingly over-scripted, appallingly-handled tosh that's truly a trial to sit through. There are far better horror-comedies available, such as Sam Raimi's recent Drag Me to Hell, so do yourself a favour and avoid Jennifer's Body.

2.7/10

"A desert holiday, let's pack the drag away. You take the lunch and tea, I'll take the ecstasy. Fuck off you silly queer, I'm getting out of here."

Written and directed by real-life drag queen Stephan Elliott, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is an unflinching depiction of the behind-the-scenes happenings of a drag show. It exposes the lifestyle of drag queens, on top of portraying the challenges they face and the emotions they bear. It's not always pretty, but, let's be honest, whose life is? The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is also a smartly-crafted hybrid in more ways than one. It's a mix of comedy, drama and musical elements within the well-worn terrain of the road movie. Added to this, due to the nature of the main characters, it could also be perceived as a gay movie that homosexual audiences will fully embrace. To the credit of the filmmakers, however, the film can be enjoyed by any audience, and the film hedges its homosexuality just enough to keep straight audiences from becoming too uncomfortable.

The film's narrative concerns two drag queens - Felicia (Pearce) and Mitzi (Weaving) - and a transsexual - Bernadette (Stamp) - who travel across the Australian desert in their bus (named Priscilla) to play a gig at a resort in Alice Springs. Along the way their bus breaks down, they come into contact with strangers, and discover that their arrival in less urban settings is not always met with warm and friendly welcomes. Encountering everything from dickhead rednecks to being upstaged by ping-pong balls on their way to Alice Springs, it's a trip filled with discoveries and revelations, with Mitzi and the rather jaded Bernadette each facing their own life transitions (while Felicia just remains his own rather flibbertigibbet self).

An uproarious, poignant romp, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is imbued with a kinetic energy that almost never lets up, and characters as unpredictable and eccentric as the costumes they don. The music, too, is extremely pleasing, with delightful ABBA tunes pervading the soundtrack, and a selection of wonderful original music by Guy Gross. Moments of seriousness are scattered amidst the laugh-out-loud zaniness, yet writer-director Elliott refuses to dwell on these instances - their mere inclusion is sufficient enough to get the message across, and Elliott evidently understood this. Best of all, the film never stoops to over-emotional preaching.

It would have been simple for the filmmakers to make a mockery of the three protagonists with all their make-up, elaborate costumes and high heels, but Elliott was much too talented to fall into this trap. While the main characters admittedly serve as stereotypes of the drag queen, transsexual and homosexual world, they are far from two-dimensional. Rather, the characters are portrayed as real people with foibles and insecurities, as well as the strength to persevere and triumph in a world that neither fully understands them, nor is willing to always accept them.

Added to this, the costumes are absolutely to die for. Costume designers Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner were working with a very limited budget, so they made sure every dollar counted (the thong costume reportedly cost only $7), and their remarkable efforts deservedly earned them an Academy Award. Indeed, the frocks donned by the protagonists throughout the movie are malleable works of art; allowing them to become dinosaurs, fish, and famous architectural structures. The sight of the characters in full regalia standing in stark contrast with the barren landscape of the Aussie Outback is one of cinema's most indelible and memorable images. During the movie's production, the trip to Alice Springs was also undertaken for real, and thus the photography of the Outback is extraordinary. Due to the demanding shooting schedule, a lot of filming occurred while the entire crew were on the road. According to IMDb, there was no room for the crew on the bus because it was such a small set, and as such they actually featured in shots hiding under clothes and props.

Without a doubt, the film is as enjoyable as it is due to the three leading actors, all of whom are typically associated with more masculine character traits: Hugo Weaving, Terence Stamp and Guy Pearce. While all three are excellent, the standout performance is delivered by usually-serious veteran actor Terence Stamp (at that time known for playing villainous roles in such movies as Superman I and II) who brings a quiet dignity to the role of Bernadette. Seeing him in drag is hilarious enough, but Stamp refused to simply let the images tell the story - his deadpan line delivery and highly expressive face proves equally hilarious.
Hugo Weaving, who catapulted to Hollywood stardom after appearing in this movie, is impossibly expressive in his portrayal of the conflicted Mitzi; conveying a depth of emotion that has been wasted in the single-note roles he took in subsequent hits (like Agent Smith in the Matrix trilogy). Additionally, Weaving threw himself into the film's musical interludes with side-splitting zest.
Also immensely endearing is Guy Pearce, who was an Australian soap star in 1994 but was still several years away from his star-making turns in such movies as L.A. Confidential and Memento. His role of Adam is the film's token flamboyant gay character, and Pearce inhabited the role with such gusto that he perpetually threatens to steal every scene he's in. Additionally, Australian actor Bill Hunter is highly likable as a heterosexual mechanic - he is the film's portrait of what a decent, sensitive man can and should be.

At the end of the day, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is a warm, exceedingly amusing celebration of diversity and being yourself. It's unlike any major motion picture that preceded it, and its modest success inspired several other transvestite films of its ilk. Viewed so many years after its 1994 theatrical release, one of the new great pleasures of the movie is seeing familiar faces in unexpected places - after all, no-one in 1994 perceived the picture as a movie about General Zod, Agent Smith and the guy from Memento as drag queens stranded in the Australian Outback. Though The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is at times fairly predictable and a bit too lightweight to make a profound statement, this is great entertainment that flies at an impeccable pace, and it's hard not to be swept along.

8.7/10

"Well, there you have it, from Mark Whitacre, Ph.D. You know what the Ph.D. stands for, don't you? Piled higher and deeper."

While the marketing squad at Warner Brothers promoted The Informant! as a loony comedy set within the corporate environment, the trailers are in fact quite misleading. Rather than playing the material as a straightforward mainstream comedy, director Steven Soderbergh has crafted a sophisticated yet disappointingly uneven dark comedy that's unable to attain a smooth rhythm as the story progresses.

The Informant! is the semi-true, semi-fanciful account of Mark Whitacre (Damon), who worked in upper management for a lysine developing company called ADM (Archer Daniels Midland). When he becomes uneasy about a price-fixing scheme at ADM, Mark reveals his concerns to the FBI and agrees to act as an informant to provide evidence to bring the company down. But questions soon begin to emerge. What is Mark getting out of his whistle-blowing? Is he truly a clean and reliable witness, like he initially seems? Uncovering the mysteries regarding Mark and his motives soon becomes of more interest to the FBI than ADM's illegal activities.

To be sure, The Informant! is predominantly a comedy, but it's a specific type of comedy that's difficult to pinpoint. More than anything, the movie's tone is funny - it has an oddball sensibility, a peculiar way of looking at things, and an absurd perspective of Whitacre and the quicksand he proudly matches into. Soderbergh is too sophisticated a filmmaker to simply play the material as a broad, commercial comedy. Instead, the humour is fundamentally dark and the laughs are generated through clever writing, though the filmmakers never lose the sense that the story is essentially a tragedy. However the gambit is not entirely successful, partially because the tricky tightrope walk between comedy and pathos makes the film feel hamstrung at times when it should be cut loose instead. The pacing simply isn't tight enough as well. Even at about 100 minutes, the film lingers for at least a quarter of an hour too long. If the editing had been more aggressive, the picture would have been far stronger. As it is, the material feels stretched beyond its ideal length. If Soderbergh was aiming for a zippy film, he failed.

Soderbergh lensed The Informant! using a lot of the handheld, pseudo-documentary techniques he has been honing over the years. The film's colour scheme is of corporate browns and sickly oranges, providing the movie with the dull paleness of business life in Middle America. To Soderbergh's credit, he knew when to stick to less attention-grabbing compositions when solid storytelling and performances were all that was required to progress the narrative.
One of the greatest pleasures afforded by the movie is the score courtesy of composer Marvin Hamlisch; a music legend who hasn't gone near a motion picture since the late '90s. Hamlisch has created a witty combination of the kind of goofball music he provided for early Woody Allen comedies (think Bananas or Take the Money and Run) and the brand of action-danger-suspense tunes he cooked up for The Spy Who Loved Me. As a matter of fact, Hamlisch's music is slyly appropriate for Mark's character - like him, the score manages to be both disconnected and with it at the same time. The delightful score earned Hamlisch a Golden Globe nomination.

Submitting his best performance since 1998's The Talented Mr. Ripley, Matt Damon is almost unrecognisable as Mark Whitacre. With his spectacles, furry toupee, moustache and extra weight, Damon is as far from the lean-and-mean Jason Bourne as can be imagined. Additionally, the internal twistiness of the character is amusingly conveyed via earnest voiceover narration that perpetually suggests Whitacre is not always quite with it. While his narration occasionally just comments on the events currently unfolding onscreen, it more often reveals the peculiar randomness of his trail of thought, as well as his deluded inner fantasies (such as the way he constantly compares his dilemma to John Grisham and Michael Crichton novels). Though Damon provides the film's star power, his performance is more along the lines of something you'd expect from a focused character actor rather than a headliner.
Alongside Damon, Melanie Lynskey is wonderful as Mark's wife, as is Scott Bakula who nails the beleaguered sensibility required to pull off the role of Mark's primary FBI contact. In a stroke of genius, Soderbergh rounded out the cast with a selection of stand-ups and comic actors, including Joel McHale, Rick Overton, Bob Zany, Patton Oswalt, Tony Hale, Paul F. Thompkins and the Smothers Brothers.

All things considered, The Informant! never manages to catch fire the way that Soderbergh's best work did, and it lacks the infectious energy that made the Ocean's pictures such a hoot. It's hard to shake off the thought that Soderbergh should've simply settled on one tone and ran with it. The material suggests an edge-of-your-seat nail-biter (even with Whitacre's strange disposition taken into consideration), and a world of comic possibilities lie within the concept of a deluded executive who uses one crime to cover another. If Soderbergh had gone one way, The Informant! could have been a smash. As it stands, it's an uneven experiment. But even so, the movie is at least worth checking out for Matt Damon's performance and a few good moments.

5.8/10

"I never meant for anyone to get hurt, but Haden got greedy."

Adapted from the graphic novel of the same name, Whiteout is a formulaic, sloppily-constructed thriller almost entirely devoid of excitement and thrills. The plot from the book is not altered considerably for the movie, but Whiteout has been crafted with such lifeless banality that it's almost impossible to become genuinely invested in the central murder mystery. This is strictly paint-by-numbers stuff, with an uninteresting story giving way to twists and turns sign-posted long in advance, and action as dull as dishwater. It's no surprise to learn that the project sat on the shelf for two years awaiting a cinematic release (filming wrapped in mid-2007), yet the studio should have instead done the honourable thing and buried all prints of the movie deep in the ice of Antarctica.

The plot of Whiteout could be accurately described as a combination of Cliffhanger, D-Tox and John Carpenter's The Thing, except not as awesome as that would imply. U.S. Marshal Carrie Stetko (Beckinsale) is the sole law enforcement official at a research station in Antarctica. For the past two years, she has maintained order at the facility, and now her tour of duty is almost over. A few days before Carrie is scheduled to return to the States, a corpse is discovered on the ice not far from the facility. Of course, she chooses to stay and investigate, presumably because she's a dedicated cop, or maybe it's because this is the first murder in the continent's history, or, more likely, it's because she knows what's good for the movie.

In spite of the potentially intriguing premise and a visually arresting setting, Whiteout is a boring, factory-made whodunit which is quickly snowed under by stupidity, genre clichés, stale writing, and limp direction. Everyone involved was clearly working on autopilot, and the film feels like a tired television cop show story made noteworthy because of its setting. Every red herring and twist is familiar, and even flashbacks pop up routinely to clarify the most trivial of details. Heck, Carrie is even introduced in a gratuitous strip-and-shower sequence in which she's reduced to a mere fetishised object. And there isn't even proper nudity, which is especially disappointing considering that director Dominic Sena's last movie - Swordfish - is renowned for featuring a shot of Halle Berry's bare breasts. Also of interest is that Whiteout could have easily been a silent movie. There is dialogue of course, but most of it barely qualifies as anything but noise as characters always say the most obvious things. For instance, if someone walks inside an airplane, they say "It's an airplane". If there's a corpse on the ground with a hole in its head, the first words out of anyone's mouth will be something like "That guy has a hole in his head."

Production values are also notably poor - the score is all booms and crashes to wake up the audience every few minutes, the cinematography makes Antarctica look like a surprisingly dull place, and the production design perpetually screams either green screen or enclosed set. The digital effects are a disappointing mixed bag, with somewhat convincing storm effects undercut by the repetitive, dull foot chases they're used for. Sadly, the film is further marred by director Sena's inability to construct a decent, or even a coherent action sequence. Sure, the title of the film refers to extreme weather conditions that are supposed to disorientate the unlucky ones who are caught within it, but this is no excuse for how poorly shot and edited several of the outdoor struggles are. With everyone dressed alike in bulky snow gear moving at a snail's pace, constantly strapping hooks onto safety lines, these types of action scenes are not in the least bit interesting. A set-piece like this could work if the director was talented, but Sena is not.

All the actors look weary as they go through the motions. Kate Beckinsale does whatever she can with the material, but there's never a moment where the actress seems genuinely immersed in the material. Gabriel Macht follows up his dreadful turn in The Spirit with an even less successful performance here; delivering his lines with a dire lack of enthusiasm. Tom Skerritt is generically warm and friendly as the base doctor, but at least he knew how to make the most of his stock character. Meanwhile Columbus Short barely registers as the helpful Delfy, and Alex O'Loughlin is worryingly endearing as the Australian who's been plonked into the proceedings.

Whiteout is pure amateur hour, resembling a motion picture stitched together by a group of folks unaware of how moviemaking works. If you're familiar with John Carpenter's The Thing, the visual style for Whiteout will also be familiar to you. And if you've seen such TV shows as Bones and CSI, you'll be familiar with the crime-detecting style of this film. Simply put, Whiteout is merely a CSI: Antarctica episode which spends more time justifying the motions than actually enjoying the ride. The best thing that can be said about the film is that it's moderately painless. The whole affair comes across as just a made-for-TV movie, yet that's not saying a lot considering the time and expense involved.

2.8/10

"There's over a million Stevens with a "V" in the country. It's much more popular than the "PH" way. Twice as popular, in fact. I think it was the the Brits who prefer their PH's."

The title of All About Steve implies the film in question is about its titular character, but in fact this movie is about generic rom-com storytelling, drab jokes and attempts at syrupy melodrama. All About Steve was initially planned for release in 2008 and designed as a vehicle for both Sandra Bullock (who hadn't had a hit in years) and Bradley Cooper (who had yet to become a household name). But with the studio delaying the movie by a year, it was able to be sold as a comedy featuring the stars of the two biggest comedies of the 2009 summer season: The Proposal and The Hangover. However, even with other amiable actors in supporting roles (like Thomas Haden Church and Ken Jeong, the latter of which was also in The Hangover), no amount of star power could've saved All About Steve. It's a slapdash, interminable series of gags based around the shrillest, most obvious characters imaginable.

Bullock plays Mary Horowitz; a lonely, socially awkward cruciverbalist who has no friends, lives at home with her parents, likes to talk a lot, and spends her days writing crossword puzzles. The story kicks into gear when Mary's well-meaning parents set her up on a blind date with a handsome news network cameraman named Steve (Cooper). Mary is instantly smitten with him, but he's put off by her incessant jabbering and over-the-top advances. As the date is abruptly brought to an end, Steve makes the fatal mistake of making an off-hand remark about going on the road with her. Moonstruck, the naïve Mary writes a sappy crossword about Steve, loses her job as a consequence, and decides to follow Steve and his crew as they cover news across the Southwest.

Throughout the movie, director Phil Traill continuously demonstrates why the vast majority of his directorial credits have been one-off work for failed sitcoms (like abominable American version of Kath & Kim) and television dramas. His efforts for All About Steve are tragically vanilla; offering lightweight silly business occurring within an infuriating sitcom atmosphere. Worst of all, Traill never advances the movie beyond the first gear, which results in a tragically staid, boring comedy. Simply put, All About Steve is entirely without laughs. The attempts at comedy never even register as such... As a matter of fact, a laugh track would've been beneficial so viewers would at least know when they're supposed to laugh. There are so many talented performers in the cast, but the problem is with Kim Barker's awful script. For those of you unfamiliar with the name (you're not alone), Barker has only one other screenwriting credit to her name: License to Wed. Instead of improving over time, this writer is getting worse.

The fundamental problem is that screenwriter Barker never seemed to realise the film is meant to be conveying a sad story. All About Steve concerns a woman who's disturbed, emotionally unstable, and in need of help. Her behaviour soars past the "lovably goofy" level and up into the "genuinely troubling" stage, but the film observes her actions as if they're cute. Added to this, the whole enterprise is disgustingly mean-spirited, and gets its kicks out of torturing a poor woman in increasingly humiliating ways. Not long after Mary and Steve first meet, she throws herself at him in a sexual manner. Instead of a friendly, farcical moment, it's something to be genuinely pitied: this unstable woman is making a complete fool out of herself in front of a man who, initially, is willing to take full advantage of her. Similarly, Thomas Haden Church's character frequently toys with Mary's emotions and personal safety. Simply put, the handling of this premise is appalling. (500) Days of Summer is perhaps the only recent example of a rom-com that managed to deal with romantic infatuation without underlying creepiness. The character of Mary in All About Steve, however, has an obsession that transforms into stalking. It grows very creepy very quickly.

On top of all this, Mary is a haphazardly assembled collection of wacky character traits, and does not ever come across as a real person. And, quite frankly, if she were a real person, she'd be a person you'd really like to avoid. From the get-go, we understand why Steve is desperately trying to get away from her. We also understand why he becomes so terrified. It's consequently impossible to root for the happiness of such an obnoxious, obvious writer's construct. Probably the biggest crime committed by All About Steve, however, is that it neglects the two most important things about a romantic comedy: romance and comedy. The film precariously skirts between dark comedy, syrupy tearjerker, romantic fable and inspirational story with a message, and the unevenness prevents the film from finding a satisfying groove.

1.5/10