Hitler Ate Sugar: Saving Mr. Banks

I'm going to review Saving Mr. Banks because it was mentioned on one site's 'Worst of 2013' list- a site run by 'Industry Professionals' no less. In fairness, it didn't actually make the bottom 20, but that it was even seen as a candidate puzzled me and I had to try and figure it out.


At first I didn't notice the silhouettes and thought that this was a daringly boring (and rather blank) poster.

I think they must have objected to it on an ethical level, as I don't think you can fault Saving Mr. Banks in terms of technical merit: its script is witty, its style quite fetching and its plot engaging. Its cast never put a foot wrong. It is, I think it's fair to say, incredibly well made.
The main objection I've heard levied at the film is that it's 'Disney Propaganda' (well, that and that it's Oscar bait): people think that Disney should not have been allowed to make this film; that they are simply patting themselves on the back or, worse, demonising P.L. Travers, the authoress of Mary Poppins.
The Walt Disney presented in this film is nothing like the cruel, immortality-seeking, anti-Semitic bigot which every corner of pop culture (except, shockingly, The Walt Disney Company) has made out in recent memory. He's fun and cool and effervescent, and that's just not the truth of it, say people who never met Walt Disney. Actually, by all accounts I've ever read, Disney was extremely charismatic (so was Hitler!), at least to new acquaintances and, crucially, people he needed stuff from. Whether or not this continued in private is up for debate. But even then, I don't think Saving Mr. Banks is quite as kind on old Walt as these objectors make out: he drinks and smokes more than anyone else in the film- and I don't mean by a fraction but, in fact, quite a wide margin. He offers up 'because I wish it' as the end to an argument and expects people just to accept that and, from the reaction shot we get of the character to whom he is speaking at this point, I think we're meant to understand that she's a little afraid of Disney.
Of course, if you believe everything you read, which I really don't think you should, this is nowhere near the fire-breathing, swastika-bearing, employee-murdering ogre he was in real life, but I can't think of a single portrayal of a real person on screen that has been hailed as anywhere near accurate. Real people, in my opinion, do not translate well to screen: we're too inconsistent- we'd just be decried as poorly characterised. And besides, most real people are boring- they rarely deliver a great one-liner or deliver a really rousing monologue at the eleventh hour, which are another two extremely juvenile conventions of mainstream, 'unintelligent' cinema which I just adore (and which occur in Saving Mr. Banks with some frequency).
However, if Disney have cleaned up Walt's actions a bit to make him appealing, then they haven't really mussied Travers, from what I can tell. By all accounts, she really was an exceptionally stubborn and quite rude woman- Thompson at least has the courtesy to make her funny.
Was it self-congratulating of Disney to make this film? Yes. Undoubtedly. But then, I think they can allow a little bit of self-congratulating: in Mary Poppins, they made a brilliant film with a lovely aesthetic and engaging lead performance and in Saving Mr. Banks, they've repeated that success.
If you don't want to get sucked into the Disney propaganda machine, you don't have to; seeing Saving Mr. Banks isn't going to brainwash you into loving the mouse, but it'll entertain you for two hours, I bet.

Think of the Children: Philomena

I was slightly trepidacious about Philomena- the trailer made it look rather twee and sentimental- which, while not always a bad thing, can be grating.
I was wrong.

Philomena is an incredibly well-made film. The performances are brilliant, the script is canny, and, another worry I had which was totally allayed, it never stops; it doesn't meander about the point as quite a lot of emotion-driven 'true life' stories do (I'm looking at you, The Impossible) but every scene leads to the next quite wonderfully, and there's actually quite a bit of plot. Yay. Plot is good.
The real reason I liked Philomena so much, and I know this will sound juvenile at first, so I'm gonna explain myself, is that it has an antagonist. I like antagonists- I know it's not the vogue in 'intelligent' or 'arthouse' cinema to have a proper villain, but I think that's a shame because I feel they add a lot to a story. A character on whom both the audience and the protagonists can focus their efforts in removing or rehabilitating or just hindering for a little while really helps engage me, and, I suspect, a lot of cinema goers. And I need to be engaged: it's all very well telling an incredibly apropos, intelligent and topical story but if I'm bored you won't teach me anything and worse, you'll make your cause look unworthy. This was one of my many problems with Zero Dark Thirty (others being a dull screenplay and Jessica Chastain); the film didn't put any effort into making the moment of Bin Laden's death (I refuse to mark that as a spoiler, read a newspaper) into a moment of release for the audience- it just expected us to bring in all our pre-conceived hatred of him. Honestly, it was lazy.
But Philomena delivers on the antagonist front and, while the character is in no way central to the film, it adds a sense of poignancy to the climax and allows for some very deep, and really rather interesting, theological-cum-philosophical debate between the leads about anger. I'm not ashamed to say I was riveted.
There is a real sense of sadness pervading this film, which makes sense when you think about it. There is a tragedy in the background of all the events which cannot be undone and cannot be ignored, which, I think, is as it should be- although the film does not shy away from discussing the pros and cons of holding onto indignation or just letting it pass. It contains some exceedingly interesting debates about religion and morality, and while these are hardly new philosophies to be exploring, it does so with aplomb.
A special word should be said about Dench, who, unsurprisingly, is very talented. But what's remarkable is how much I believed her as a run-of-the-mill, everyday woman; Dench is rather glamorous in real life, but you don't watch her thinking about the incredibly unhumdrum life she leads, but just completely believe that, were it not for the plot, she'd be sitting at home watching David Attenborough. She's natural to a level that is quite astounding.
I can't really find much to fault about the piece:there's no element that stands out as poorly crafted or problematic. Philomena could easily have been a two hour TV movie with about thirty minutes of actual content and an awful lot of padding, but instead it's an absorbing and witty feature that delivers in terms of characters, plot and pathos.

Joy to the World: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2

If you look to the right, you'll see a list of my favourite films (if you didn't know this already, yes, I'm that easily amused). You may notice a trend in these films: four, if you count Hannibal to The Silence of the Lambs, received a continuation of their franchise this year. And that now includes my favourite film of all time, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

I actually got asked a lot how I felt about this: people know I like Cloudy and they know I like to rant, so I think they expected an outpouring of rage, but outpouring came there none. I was glad that Cloudy was getting a sequel; even if it was rubbish, I knew this meant that Cloudy was somewhat important- it was present enough in people's minds that Sony were ready to make a film sold solely on the basis of it being related to it. And this made me happy, because I like to think that my favourite film is known to people. But what did I actually think of the sequel itself?
Well, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 confirms something that I've long suspected- that it isn't just the comedy that makes Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs great. Cloudy 2 just isn't as funny as Cloudy 1, there's no denying. It's not even as funny as, say, Silver Linings Playbook or Bridesmaids: I laughed out loud a couple of times, and I chuckled often, but it doesn't reach the dizzying comedic heights of the first film. However, that doesn't mean there isn't a lot to recommend it.
With regards to the script, the thing to really mention are the puns: the original Cloudy had a couple of memorable word plays, such as

"A pea soup fog!"

But otherwise it was more about dialogue, and screwballisms. The second instalment dials up the puns to previously unthinkable levels. Normally, I tolerate puns with pursed lips and maybe sometimes a wry eyebrow. The difference here is that these are puns which could not be made otherwise, for example 'flamango' or 'apple python',  and they're delivered with such innocent gusto, not the wearied cynicism that many punners go for, and so they earn themselves a free pass.
These traits- innocence and gusto, that is- bring me onto another strength of the film: the characters are very likeable, defined and consistent. I know this should be a given and  not a notable point for any film worth its salt, but I feel its worth mentioning just how much I enjoy being in the company of Flint, Sam, Earl, Brent and Tim- they are extremely fun to spend an afternoon with. I care about them- I want them to be happy and, crucially, I feel they have lives outside of the plot: I can see them going on living after the cameras stop rolling. There is some emotional conflict in the film regarding relationships between characters and it doesn't feel forced or even corny- I want the characters to make-up and be friends again, because they're better together and I care about their well-being. That's important.
There is also a lot of joy to be had with the design on the film: it really does make it worth seeing this film on a cinema screen, the look of the thing is just so captivating and unique. You can tell that everyone involved with creating the look of this picture gave it their all and really had fun. In fact, I think this is one of the things that really clicks with me about these films- there is such an air of joie-de-vivre about them.
A note should also go the voice acting in the film- there are no real celebrities involved, just actors who are good at conveying emotion vocally and hitting punchlines. It works splendidly and is a welcome change from all-star casted animations where the voices just don't match the characters.
The plot of Cloudy 2 is much, much more complex than that of the first one, and in a way that's a good thing, because it partially helps fill the gaps left by the comedy. But it does also mean more expositing needs to be done and while the film never lapses into tedium, it certainly doesn't zip along like the first.
You might have noticed I'm not really giving any weaknesses here, and that's cos the film doesn't have any, in my opinion. That doesn't mean it's perfect, just solid. There is no one area where it lags. Sadly, it's impossible for me to talk about this film without comparing it to the first, and I understand that that's unfair. It's like if your name also had to be mentioned in the same sentence as Alexander the Great- you'd feel kind of maligned. But the first film is just so seminal (to me, at least) that it's inevitable.
I would definitely recommend this film- no, it's not a masterpiece like the original, but it's a cut above and definitely worth the time it takes from your life to watch it all the way through. If you can't find anything to enjoy in it, then I really don't know what you would enjoy. Watching paint dry? Stamp collecting? Transformers?

A bygone era: The Croods

The Croods is a very off-kilter movie.

The trailer made it look extremely generic; a mix of The Flinstones and every nineties sitcom ever, all girly stereotypes and overbearing fathers. But, actually, almost all the humor comes from injury and death- the opening sequence tells of how all other humans on the planet, the titular characters' neighbours, were killed in varied and gruesome ways; we actually see an entire family reduced to red mush by a mammoth's foot.
Including children.
In the first five minutes of the film.
And this trend continues: the family happily trade blows with one another constantly; when the film's two romantic leads meet, they continue the tradition and smack each other up a bit; and one of the film's biggest laughs comes from the family pet taking a short roll off a large ledge. Honestly, the style's more akin to The Three Stooges than a dreamworks movie.
The level of physical and, to some extent, emotional abuse is consistent but it is, at least, even. When I saw Eep, our heroine, bash her soon-to-be boyfriend up on their very first encounter, I was all set for a rehash of Tangled, wherein Rapunzel hits Flynn with a frying pan three times and then threatens to do so again- try reversing that equation and see if you get away with it. But no, Guy, her suitor, bonks her right back. So, it's equal opportunities domestic violence. Which is better, but still not alright.
Actually, the dynamic between Eep and Guy is one of the stronger points of the film- she's physically much more capable than him, but he's smarter. Not that she's unable to learn, and the way she picks things up from him is quite sweet. They actually have chemistry (it sounds stupid to say that about animated characters, but I felt it) and I wanted them to get together. Honestly, the 'father being threatened by daughter's paramour' trope was hampered not by its predictability but simply by the fact I really didn't like the father. Nicholas Cage is not a good voice actor. His voice is weird and distracting and just doesn't work when put the movements of another person's mouth. He was also in The Ant Bully, another animated film and yet again I just found his voicework alienating. This, coupled with the fact that the dad's a douche (he grows as a character (predictably) but is still just not very pleasant), means the audience quickly tire of any scene involving this aspect of the plot and long for greater emphasis on the budding romance.
I should also mention the design of the film, which is lovely (I'd expect no less from Chris Sanders, who did How to Train your Dragon). They have a lot of fun mixing together creatures and creating weird landscapes- I doubt any of it's paleontologically accurate, but who cares? It's nice to look at and leads to some funny moments. Also, is it just me or was there meant to be an implication that the oceans were receding? I mean, there were whales left just kinda lounging around on land, and at one point they seem to walk across a coral reef that's just out there on the ground. It was a bit like Adventure Time, where you get the sense that a big cataclysm has happened recently, but you're not quite sure.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't laugh, and, indeed, I laughed quite a lot, but I would definitely not show this film to a child: there's a lot of violence, between family members and romantic partners and no one ever comments on it. I'm not saying don't expose children to such stuff, but if you do, at least portray it as wrong.
If all that sounds unsanitary to you, then probably avoid this film because that makes up the bulk of the screentime. There are also some morals about family and risk-taking and brains vs. brawn but if you're like me, these won't even reach your brain anymore since there's so much of it shoved down our throats nowadays that I've developed an immunity, like antibiotics. There are things to like- there are an awful lot of jokes, so at least some of them work, and I really do like the romantic leads, it's just the rest of the film is so off that unless you're a fan of slapstick or violence, I don't think it'll do much for you.

Pale Imitations: Oz the Great and Powerful

If you know me personally, or are fond of looking to the righthand side of websites. then you will know that I absolutely adore the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz; it was my favourite film in my most formative years and thus contributed inexorably to my sense of storytelling, humor and visual aesthetic. As such, you can imagine I was wary of Oz the Great and Powerful.

Let's start right at the beginning: the title is improperly punctuated. A noun followed by a description of that noun without an interceding copula requires a colon or a comma (for example, my school uniform list always specified 'shoes, brown'). You could argue that it's a title like 'Katherine the great' but these titles are usually limited to one specifier (Katherine the great, Ivan the terrible, Edward the confessor, etc.) and since the wizard from Oz is not normally referred by this title,  and thus people aren't used to be seeing this name written out like that, well, it just looks like you couldn't be bothered to put your movie pitch through a proper spell/grammar check. I understand not wanting to use a colon, as this might make this look like a sequel, but a comma would not detract from your film.

The content might, though. I will confess the film is funnier than I thought- I laughed out loud at least three times, almost exclusively at Zach Braff as the CGI monkey, Finlay, but other than that this film just irritated me. And the sad thing is, if this film existed in a vacuum, it would be fine. But, like a limpet on a rock, Oz the Great and Powerful has latched on for dear life and is begging to be associated with the latchee- but the rock it's chosen is a 24 carat emerald and, by comparison, the limpet attached just looks all the uglier. And this limpet isn't even paying its rock the proper respect. 

When Dorothy met the munchkins, there was rapturous joy on her face, she clapped along delightedly to their musical number- when James Franco sees them he makes fun of their singing. But that singing is part of what elevated The Wizard of Oz to a treasure and allowed this stupid film to be made. When Glinda first arrived in a bubble it was a moment of magic and high fantasy that tapped intoyour imagination. Here, it's a trick which Glinda admits is 'just for show' and that, yet again, annoys James Franco. Maybe be a little more courteous to the bandwagon on which you are riding?

But then, the aspects of the film that are outright imitations are pretty lame themselves: I've seen many a folk try to do an impression of Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch of the West, and, honestly SPOILERS Mila Kunis' is among the worst. What made Hamilton so much fun was the sense of glee that her witch had- encapsulated perfectly in that infamous laugh. When Kunis tries that laugh out, it sounds like she's faking. And though we now get to see the Witch properly zoom around on her broom, it's closer to the Green Goblin from Spiderman (surprise, surprise, given the director) than the terrifying figure who wrote her wicked words in black smoke against the Emerald City skyline. James Franco is not trying to be Frank Morgan, and you'd think that that at least would be a blessing, but the character he cuts is so inanely douchey (it's just a series of smiles- some sarcastic, some not) that you kinda wish he had attempted to more like the old humbug. 

And then there's the fact that the plot doesn't make sense: SPOILERS Evanora, the wicked witch of the East, framed Glinda for the murder of her father and then chased her away; this is presumably so her much more powerful sister, Theodora, will stand with her against Glinda.  But then Evanora sends her hordes of flying monkeys from her personal home in the Emerald city anyway, so Theodora will know she's behind the mass destruction of Oz anyway. And then, when Glinda comes back, she bests Evanora in a magic duel anyway, with no outside help or new magic she's learnt in the interim, so why didn't she just do that in the first place?

And finally, we wade into the muddy waters of ethics. The Wizard of Oz is surprisingly sound, feminism-wise: strong but non-violent female protagonist with no love interest, fighting another woman, saves the men several times (gets saved herself, too, but at least it's even), and whose primary aid comes in the form of a woman. In Oz the Great and Powerful, James Franco tricks Mila Kunis into getting physical with him by pretending to love her. He sees no need to disillusion her about her presumptions that they'll be together forever. He uses her, is what I'm saying. She's understandably angry when she finds out. However, she is punished for her clinginess by being turned 'hideous'. James Franco is never punished for his deception. No one ever points out that the creation of the wicked witch of the west is, in fact, entirely his fault. And, as we know from The Wizard of Oz, he later has her killed. And yet, we're supposed to cheer when he drives the witch of the west away from the city WHICH IS HER HOME. I have some real problems with that.

Overall, the only thing this film has going for it is a few moments of humor and visual effects. Both can be found, and in greater quantities, in other films. The Wizard of Oz springs to mind- no idea why.

The bigger they are: Cloud Atlas

Cloud Atlas. I saw this on the recommendation of my friend, Daryl. And I would be quite angry with him were he not the one who provided my lovely profile pic.
To understand why this film failed, one first has to understand that the full scope of its ambitions: this film uses one core set of actors (all very talented and most quite famous), and then gets them to play a different character, sometimes bending gender and even race, in a series of different stories that are supposedly interconnected- these segments are all in different time periods, and, perhaps more daringly, different genres. Some of these segments could've made entire films on their own- I want to see a full length feature of The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish (an old man is tricked into entering a nursing home ruled over by a tryannical Hugo Weaving in drag) with the exact same cast. Oh, and one of these segments isn't in Present Day English.
Let's start with that, because as a Linguist, this concept fascinates me, but it just makes no sense. I don't know enough about language trends to accurately predict what future English will sound like, so they may have got it spot on. But then, why in the other future segment do they speak Present Day English? Especially since it's set in Korea? Honestly, the cryptospeak just irritated me- especially because Tom Hanks decided to mutter through that segment (only marginally worse than his Irish accent); it was confusing enough to try and decipher what was happening in that section (it was the only one which was pure fantasy, with an appearance from the devil himself).
And then there's the re-use of the cast. The film seems to want to have a theme of reincarnation, and the re-casting thing could have been an obvious, but effective, visual metaphor for that. But then, that's not actually what the recasting is for. Because the actors don't play the same character in every time line: Tom Hanks is the villain in the earliest story, but a hero the rest of the time. We all adore Jim Broadbent in the present day segment, but detest him in the 1930's. But then, we're meant to just always hate Hugo Weaving? Who, it's finally revealed, is the devil.
One couple is together in every story line, but the gay couple only meet once (we'll get to that in a second), even though one of the gay lovers ends his life (spare me) declaring that he'll meet his lover again. They never do.
Or do they? Because then, it's sort of hinted that the character bearing the comet birthmark is the same person in every time line, even though this character is nearly always played by a different actor. But then WHY CAST THE SAME ACTORS IN EVERY STORY LINE?!! (P.S. If you think you lack the context to understand what I'm saying, know that possessing the context does not make anything better).
You could say I'm being simplistic and that I should cherish a film that challenges me. I don't mind not having everything signposted for me: I object to artists employing techniques (like double-casting) just to be buggery. Art made for the sole purpose of confusing people is not worth my time.
And then we come to delicate issues of race and sexuality. I'm just gonna say it- as well as being incendiary and possibly offensive, the race lift make-up is just ugly. It makes the characters look ridiculous. I laughed at Hugo Weaving in asia face. It wasn't threatening, it was just stupid. The unfortunate implications of the race lifts are, I think, mostly mollified by the fact that actors of all races are made up to look like all other races, so it is, at the very least, equal opportunities discrimination.
The homophobia, however, is not so balanced. There were, as far as I could tell (not really all that far- this film was just befuddling), three main couples in the film: Tom Hanks and Halle Berry, Jim Sturgess and Doona Bae and Ben Whishaw and James D'arcy. One of these things is not like the others: for one thing, it's the only non-interrace relationship in there, so kudos for that. But it's also the only homosexual relationship. And it's the only relationship which doesn't work out in any time-line, and in fact ends in suicide (seriously, spare me). The problem with gay tragedies is that it shows homophobia (the force which leads to said suicide) as being more powerful than gay love; this film then adds insult to insult by insinuating that gay love isn't as strong as heterosexual love, since it doesn't reach through time the way the other couples do. In fact, the two gay characters don't even meet in any of the other storylines. Nil points.
All in all, this film just tries way too hard and fails accordingly. If they hadn't tried to be so fancy with the double-casting, it might just have been lightly scrambled, but they were too clever for their own good and ended up with egg all over the floor.

Black Magic Women: Beautiful Creatures

Beautiful creatures. Ugh.

 














 




This film could very easily have discussed very interesting moral questions, and thrown in some cool supernatural action set pieces to boot.
It chose not to.
First off, I just want to point out the sex-negativity prevalent even in the film's advertising, pictured above. The girl on the left, Ridley, is one of the film's villains. Look at how she's dressed, and read her tag-line: 'temptation is impossible to resist'. Lena, on the right, is the film's heroine. Low at how she's dressed, and read her tag-line: 'True love is a force to be reckoned with' (spare me). During the film, Ridley explicit seduces a man in an alleyway to accomplish her fiendish ends. I'd really hoped we were past this. I did.
The film's conceit is that female witches (I refuse to pay this film the courtesy of indulging its stabs at being distinctive and naming them 'casters'), when they turn sixteen, will be claimed by either 'light' or 'dark' forces; apparently, men can choose which side they're on.
Ignoring the misogyny inherent in that premise, let's look at the ethical debate which this story line references: its clearly about determinism, and the ol' 'are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?' line. I haven't really seen this discussed much in fiction not aimed at adults- although J.K. Rowling pretty much admits Voldermort was evil from birth due to being concieved under a love potion, so I guess this story isn't entirely peerless.
But then Beautiful Creatures doesn't bother to go into the issues surrounding determinism: SPOILERS Lena quite happily murders her mother, Seraphine, the film's main antagonist, even though we're told that Seraphine was claimed, against her will, by a curse that made it impossible for her to be good. When Ridley, Lena's cousin and Seraphine's lackey, asks to be let go, she invokes how she used to be a good person. She deliberately isolated herself so she wouldn't hurt people. SHE HAD NO CHOICE ABOUT BEING EVIL; the same is true of Seraphine, but Lena callously ends her life anyway.
Indeed, the only reason Lena is saved from the curse is the intervention of her uncle (more misogyny? perhaps)- the scene could've been spared by a 'there but for the grace of Jeremy Irons go I', but this is skipped for more of the insipid romance.
Romance which leads to statutory rape, may I point out. This film is kind of repugnant.


But what of the actual content? It's lacking.
Lena and what's-his-face are dull. They're given the odd funny line, but these are more than matched by the sheer number of 'I'll always love you' moments, which, though perhaps characteristic of teenage romance, are not particularly engaging to watch onscreen.
Emma Thompson is quite clearly having fun. Much more than the audience, at any rate. I think perhaps Richard LaGravenese, the director, who also wrote Voyage of the Dawn Treader and thus has earnt a place on my naughty list, was a bit star struck by Miss Thompson and didn't dare direct her, for fear she ditch this atrocious nonsense and make a proper film. She quite literally dances about the screen, gleeful in her evil- normally, I have a weakness for such performances, but here it just feels shoe-horned in to counteract the sheer monotony of the leads. 
The premise could quite easily lead to some epic magic battles; however, we're told early on that Lena is the most powerful caster ever (she demonstrates this by spinning a table) and so no one can really threaten her and, indeed, no one does. SPOILERS They sort of try and make her the main threat in this film, but then she's completely claimed for good and so will presumably now just crush all evil in one fell swoop. I have no idea how this is a series. 
Honestly, this film is boring and my problems with its ethics just make it offensive and boring, which is pretty much the worst thing a film can be. Don't think it'll enter the lexicon of worst movies ever, though; it's far, far too forgettable. In a year, no one will remember it and honestly that's all it deserves. 

Mr. Affleck Goes to Hollywood: Argo

Having posted my feelings about Zero Dark Thirty, I will now discuss the, in my opinion, much superior and more filmic Argo.

I should probably admit that I'd heard the story before I went in, but forgotten how it ended. If you read the same cracked article as me, you may well know the outcome and this whole film will have a waft of the ol' Zero Dark Thirty about it. And if that's the case, I pity you.
This film is as tense as anything. There is a genuine sense of oncoming doom throughout; the trailer boldly states "If these people die, they die badly" and you believe it. The general throng of Iranians that we see throughout the film serve as the antagonists, and one could decry that as racist were it not for the fact that this film is based on a true story. And the actors playing the 'house guests' (i.e. the Americans in hiding) really do give you the impression of people scared out of their wits- they seem terrified for their lives, and so the audience feels it, too.
Ben Affleck, too, gives a fine performance as Tony Mendez; he's suitably reserved to be an FBI agent while still cluing the audience in to the gravity of the situations playing out on screen. He also displays some good comedic timing during the Hollywood sequences. 
Which brings me nicely to the other section of the film, which is not quite so tense but is laugh out loud funny. Mr. Affleck goes to Hollywood and sets up a fake production company with John Goodman and Alan Arkin. It is really, really good satire of an industry that (from WAY outside, at least) seems rife with contradictions and stupidity. Goodman is lovable and funny, which must have been a real stretch for him. And what I love about this portion of the film is that it proves that films about serious situations, real-life stories and touchy subjects can still have humor and a bit of levity. This film put time into its script and allowed itself some zingers, and that improves it no end.
But back to the military stuff; as I mentioned in my Zero Dark Thirty review, this film takes some very obvious liberties with its climax. Not wanting to give anything away, I'll just say it's blatant, but I didn't care, because it was thrilling.  The sense of impending tragedy, which has gestated throughout, suddenly blossoms into a deadly but beautiful man-eating plant in the end, which towers above the likes of other 'true-to-life' movies and challenges the next director to take on such a story to do so with half as much panache.
But, yet again, I can't just gush at this picture- it's not perfect. For one thing, they never discuss the morality of what the Americans are doing by protecting the Shah: it's just kind of waved away as the 'right thing to do' with nary a thought given to the people he oppressed and maybe giving them some form of justice. And, sadly, this film doesn't have much for the women to do (there are actually a number of named female characters, Ms. Bechdel, but none of them play particularly essential roles narrative-wise), so ZDT wins out in that respect. Naturally, both these flaws stem to a degree from the fact that this story is based on facts and the actions of real people and not fictional characters under the control of a writer, but since embellishments were already made, I have to call them out on it and say they could've taken some license with events. Still, these are flaws in the film's ethics, and are, obviously, up to debate with the audience's own personal views on morality. 
It really is worth watching, if only as a political/espionage thriller with some awesome performances and a few jabs at old Hollywood thrown in for good measure.

P.S. My other nomination for Best Actress in an Utterly Minor Role goes to Sheila Vand, who plays the housekeeper Sahar; she has, at my count, five lines, and delivers each one with a real dramatic intensity that amps up the tension of any scene she's in.
P.P.S. I swear the opening narration is done by Marjane Satrapi, who wrote Persepolis. No narrator is credited on IMDB, but that's a pretty cool cameo to have, in my opinion.

La Vida Loca: Silver Linings Playbook

As anyone who saw me the night after I saw Silver Linings Playbook will attest, I absolutely loved this film.

Jennifer Lawrence, whom I first noted as the most enjoyable aspect about X-men First Class, is just brimming with charisma. Tiffany, her character, is one of my favourite female leads that I have seen for ages: she is the modern Annie Hall, whilst being almost entirely the opposite of that eponymous flighty dame.
Let me explain: Annie is possibly the best example of a manic pixie dream girl ever seen in a mainstream romantic comedy- she's cute, she's eccentric (but believably so), and, perhaps most tellingly, she's unhappy in her life but hides it behind a winning smile and a well-practiced sense of whimsy. Tiffany is cute...and the similarities end there. Tiffany isn't eccentric- she's mentally unbalanced (arguably) but all her actions have a logic that is perfectly evident- what's more, she calls out Pat, her male counterpart, on his very eccentric actions of ordering raisin bran for dinner and freaking out when he hears a certain song. And Tiffany does not hide her damage the way Annie does- but she is definitely content to be the way she is.
And that's why I love this film: it's about the search for happiness. And not in an American constitution way, but in a relatable, universal kind of way. Pat and Tiffany don't care about getting 'better', as long as they're happy. And that's beautiful. The scene where Tiffany declares herself a slob and a slut and then goes on to state how she likes that part of herself is absolutely joyful to watch, because it's not forced. It's completely believable and it's a lovely sentiment to see put out in a world which can sometimes seem so much about putting people down. Also, since I made a point of this with Zero Dark Thirty, I should say that I very much admire the gender politics of that declaration.
And, I should say, this film is funny; Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs funny. There are a lot of good lines in the trailer, and this tone is extended to the entire film. As previously hinted, the film it reminds me of most is Annie Hall: it's just a really well-made romantic comedy, and, like Annie Hall or When Harry Met Sally, it reminds us that no genre is beyond redemption and that execution is everything. The addition of a thesis about mental illness and the power of positive thinking does the story no harm at all and artfully elevates it to be a cut-above its all-too-often cookie-cutter peers.
I've gushed about Lawrence, but I should also mention Bradley Cooper: he does an extraordinary job with a very difficult role. His is the part that would, in other comedies, be relegated to that of the 'quirky' (read: socially damaged) best friend whom the audience is almost entirely convinced has a mental illness that the characters in the film are rather cruelly ignoring. (The fact that Pat, Cooper's character, has such a best friend who is actually properly diagnosed is also a welcome change.) Cooper transitions him to leading man with aplomb, like Lawrence, mixing earnestness, believability and just sheer brilliant comedic timing into a wonderful performance. Robert De Niro also delivers an engaging turn as Pat's father- on the surface, he seems like a typical movie father- distanced, a tad severe but ultimately good-hearted. As the film goes on we see another part to him, and I really admire the revelations the film adds to what could have been a stereotypical character.
And I think that's what I like about this film so much- it takes a story that is very firmly in a genre (romantic comedy) that is for the most part entirely played out, and twists it to breathe in new life (much like Annie Hall, fancy that). It puts in some serious examination to character archetypes that we're all familiar with (the damaged hero, his manic pixie dream girl, the stoic father, the wacky best friend) and then tells us what could really be behind these character traits in real life but loses none of the humor that makes these films so watchable to begin with.
I should say that it's not absolutely perfect: there is a scene, which establishes the stakes for the denouement, which  does drag on a bit and, to be honest, maybe takes the realism of the dialogue a little bit too far (but in no way to the same degree as Zero Dark Thirty), but that's the only part of the film that made me wish it would speed up.
I thoroughly recommend it for everyone: it'll warm your hearts, exercise your brain and make you chuckle. Who could ask for more?

Give it to me straight: Zero Dark Thirty

Zero Dark Thirty. Hmmm... I really don't think I can explain my reaction to this film without referencing a couple of others, and giving away plot details as I do it. Sorry.

Get it? She's casting a shadow over America with her determination. Subtle. 

THIS POST WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ZERO DARK THIRTY, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE AND ARGO

One of the most disturbing experiences I ever had in a cinema was when I went to see Slumdog Millionaire with my mother. During the scene where SPOILERS the children are about to be blinded  by Maman, a gangster, and then Salim puts a gun to Maman's head. My mother, life long liberal, staunch believer in the sanctity of life and enemy of violence, said, out loud, 'kill him'.
I mention this because Slumdog Millionaire also contained graphic violence and morally dubious acts. But there was a difference between Slumdog and Zero Dark Thirty; Slumdog was inherently cinematic.
SPOILERS Salim does pull the trigger on Maman, and even my mother felt the rush of victory in that moment. Because Slumdog wasn't just presenting facts, it was telling a story- it had villains, and arcs and a resolution. Zero Dark Thirty is more like watching a game of battleships, with the characters striking at random places until they happen to land a hit. There is no 'kill him' moment- we don't ever feel the goosepimples that come with a villain slain. The characters are not the point of Zero Dark Thirty: we learn very little of Maya, and so we should. It's made evident her colleagues of eight years don't even know her- what hope do we have with only 150 minutes? And so, what we're left with to compel us is the narrative, which is compelling...to a point.

I understand the angle that was taken with this film: they were giving us as close to a real story as they could manage (and, by God, this is a better approach than 'The Impossible'). But let's compare this film with Argo, another awards-courting movie about a special military operation, lead by a mistrusted military outcast- Argo took liberties with the source material: SPOILERS it added in a chase sequence at the end which was kinda nuts but oh so thrilling. Of course it wasn't real, I knew it wasn't real, but it was so thrilling. I cared what happened to the characters. I wanted them to be OK, and now there was a high-speed pursuit down a runway that was threatening their future well-being.
Awesome.
In Argo, we also get to learn a little about the home-life of our main character- he's not just a soldier, he's a person. We don't want him to die in the film's denouement. In Zero Dark Thirty, SPOILERS Maya, the character we've followed most throughout the film, and thus should care about most, is not even involved in the film's ostensible climax. She can't be. She's a high-ranking intelligence officer and it's a military operation- why on earth would she be invited along? Naturally, she wouldn't, wasn't and isn't. There's a few cuts to her looking apprehensive, but that's it. She is in not within harm's reach.
(And, let's discuss the climax itself; about ten dudes, heavily armed and with military training, against a house full of women, children and three men who may or may not have army training. Not all that thrilling, I'll be honest.)
See, this is where Zero Dark Thirty falls apart: its selling point- that dusty, crackly realism all the ads were selling us- is also its major flaw. The story of finding Osama Bin Laden was a lot of people talking in rooms, typing on computers, with the occasional explosion thrown in. Explosions are cinematic- none of that other stuff is. And having an anti-climax where your main character isn't even in danger of chipping a nail is just the tasteless cherry on a bland cake.
The mystery itself could be engaging if a) we didn't already know the outcome and b) it was presented as a mystery, with all the possible options laid out and various clues and red herrings fed to us. But that's not how it works- it's an actual police investigation, where one interview leads to another, and another and another, and another (type on computer, explosion) and another and then, voila, we have the answer.

It's not a terrible film- Jessica Chastain, though still tainted in my eyes from being associated with The Tree of Life, does an adequate job as the lead character; though I'm still not sure there was much of a job to do- I mean, she was rather deadpan. I guess she was meant to be.
The supporting cast are all competent as well-  sadly, they don't really have anyone play Bin Laden, which is a shame, because it would have been interesting to see someone portray him, just like that scene with Hitler that everyone keeps fiddling with on the internet.
I should praise the film for its gender politics- very few references are made to Maya's gender. She's a character, not a woman.
The script was no great shakes, but yet again, I don't think it was meant to be; this is not The Avengers. It's not meant to be fun.

And, I think that right there is the problem; Argo and Slumdog were aiming for darkness, yes, but also entertainment- they aimed to satisfy your basic cinematic needs for suspense, payoff and a wee bit o' humor. Zero Dark Thirty presents the plain, hard facts and does so in the plain, hardest way possible. Admirable, perhaps, but not particularly appealing.

The Queen x Hannibal Lectre: Hitchcock

I believe Hitchcock has been missold.

The film's advertising makes it look like a film about the making of Psycho with a little bit of Helen Mirren grousing in the background. Where, in reality, it's a domestic comedy with some shots from Psycho in the background. And Helen Mirren doesn't grouse- she snarks.

I should say that Helen Mirren is fantastic. As is Hopkins, but he has the much easier role, playing a character that lots of people are eminently familiar with anyway (although, I was surprised how few of my friends have actually seen a Hitchcock film). She's energetic and amiable and witty and, dare I say, kinda hot? The scene where she's picking out a swimming costume is kinda...titillating.

Moving on.
The drama is almost entirely about the relationship between Hitchcock and his wife, Alma; I think this may be because the making of Psycho was relatively smooth. I know there were problems with censorship, and financing (nothing more fun to watch than people argue money!), but from what I understand these are trivial compared to what some film shoots go through.

So, the making of Psycho serves as a backdrop to an exploration of marriage; and, even then, it's not particularly crucial to that exploration. The problems between Hitchcock and Alma don't stem from him being 'obsessed with murder' as the trailer insinuates, but merely from them both aging. And these problems are intriguing, but almost entirely because of the performances, not the content. Although, I should say, that the film is well-scripted; Mirren and Hopkins are both amusing, but I doubt they improvised the entirety of their lines.

What I think is interesting about the Psycho element of the picture is that it could have been the backdrop to two different films on topics that interest me: one about censorship, and how someone has to stand up to the man for things to change, and homophobia in Hollywood (Anthony Perkins, who played Norman Bates, was closeted, and the film has definite transphobic elements). Both of these ideas are touched upon, but briefly, and they clearly don't concern the director.

So, what you get is a well-played drama/comedy about marriage in old age with some take-it or leave-it references to classic cinema. It's a lot of fun, but it's too middle-of-the-road to be memorable; somewhat ironic, given the film's sections about pushing the envelope in what could be seen on screen and what made Psycho so influential in pop culture.

P.S. The film kept on saying that Hitchcock never won an oscar, but didn't Rebecca win best picture? I know it's not an award to him personally, but it's still a lot more than most people will ever be recognised.

Whatta lotta watta: The Impossible

I saw The Impossible yesterday.

And I have some issues. For example, the film starts by assuring us that this is a 'true story', not even 'based on a true story', just two words- 'true story'. The problem? The original family were Spanish, not British. I don't see why they did this. Well, actually I do, I just wish I didn't; a non-English speaking family just wouldn't be as palatable. People wouldn't go and see a film where the protagonists aren't anglophones because they wouldn't identify with characters who speak a different language than them (or, so Hollywood assumes, at any rate). This is also presumably why the film doesn't focus on the damage to local communities- we never see any Thai people looking for their loved ones (though, in fairness, there are some Asian children on the Orphanmobile), or any in the hospital: it's all European tourists. The Thai are relegated to nurses, doctors and random villagers who, for no given reason, were completely unaffected by the tonnes of water that just washed across their country. They aid the white protagonists then vanish, nary a thought being given to the fact that, although our protagonists can escape as soon as they regroup, these poor souls are stuck in the ravaged country. Hooray!

Also, I thought that Tom Holland, who played eldest son Lucas, was just awful. He just shouted when it was dramatic and deadpanned the rest of the time. I didn't believe he was in the midst of a crisis: he just looked like he was bored.

Finally, I don't know why this story in particular was chosen to be told out of all the countless tales that must have arisen from the 2006 tsunami. It didn't strike me as particularly dramatic- one half of the family spent the entirety of the story in a hospital, the other on various motor vehicles. They weren't searching for each other for comparatively long (we see several other families seeking each other who haven't reunited by the time the Bennets have, so we know they weren't searching the longest), and honestly, they didn't strike me as particularly captivating people- they weren't dislikable, but there was nothing memorable or even very defined about their personalities. (They weren't even white!) So, why this particular group of people? Because their story had a happy ending? Surely, other stories must have? Or, at least, a bittersweet one? I feel kinda bad, because these are real people I'm talking about, but for the drama I almost wanted this film to have a sting in the tail, and for the mother to die. I know, I know, that's awful, and, obviously, I don't wish death on the real life woman, but it would have been more interesting to watch. To be honest, the majority of the film just felt like filler between the set piece of the water hitting and the emotional climax when the Bennets are re-united.

On the plus side, the film didn't shy away from showing dirt and, perhaps more importantly, injury- the wound on the back of Naomi Watts' leg made me want to vomit. The glamorous stars are made to look thoroughly unsexy, despite flashing both bosom and abdominals. And even if the story isn't particularly cinematic, the design of the movie is, with scores of mussed up extras milling about, looking destitute (which just kept peaking my interest in characters other than the designated protagonists).
I should also mention the recreation of the tsunami which is both breath-taking and terrifying: I honestly don't know how they did it, because it doesn't look CGI, and I swear they must have actually just crashed a tidal wave down on Ewan McGregor and co, because there are shots of them being pelted by the water which don't cut away.

All in all, there was obviously some talent behind the scenes on the film, but the problems created by focussing on the Bennets outweighed the highlights.

No afterlife for Russel Crowe: Les Miserables

So, I've just come back from seeing Les Miserables for a second time, and whilst walking back, singing 'Can you hear the people sing?', I had a startling relevation: had I not seen the stage musical many a time, had I not in fact committed every single detail of it to memory like some horrid stalker, I think that it would probably have been one of my favourite films of all time.

The acting is undeniably incredible: Anne Hathaway almost made me cry, twice now. It's a performance which you couldn't give in a theatre, because no one would be able to hear you. On film, it's intoxicating, watching a woman's face, projected 30 foot large, spiral into grief and noticing every single flicker of emotion. Hugh Jackman is Jean Val Jean through and through- he is utterly hateful at the beginning, and entirely repentant by the end, finding time to be heroic, clingy and preachy in the middle. Even Russel Crowe, by far the film's weakest element, has genuine hate in his eyes when he looks on Jackman- one wonders if he isn't a little pissed he is no longer the most eminent Aussie on the block.

The staging is suitably epic, including mountain tops, cavernous ships and life-size porcelain elephants. When I first saw the film, I remarked that it seemed the students had a barricade about six feet in length and had blocked off only the street where they all lived, which seemed rather self-defeating, and not worth the army's trouble. Upon rewatching, it's a much grander affair: the scene where the furniture rains down from the sky is mesmerising, and the homespun nature of the blockade didn't diminish the splendour, but enhanced it (I don't know why this is only on the second viewing, I knew perfectly well the story and themes going in the first time). Also, full marks for the sewer scene, which makes a point of never forgetting what a sewer is: I always got confused watching films as a child when characters would crawl through sewers, and just seemed to slosh through water, never once needing to retch from the stench.

And, of course, the music is Rousing. It stirs something primal in human beings- the audience with whom I saw Les Mis applauded both times, and it's because the end song just demands it. (As does, sidebar, One Day More, and I have, both times, delivered a solitary sitting ovation to that song.) The music gets into your blood and takes over your heart beat: it becomes the pulse by which you live your life. It is the universal metronome which we all ignore because we're so used to it, but rendered so presently that we cannot help but sit up and pay attention.
And this is where the film is caught short, because that music is simply better live. As is most music. To hear Hathaway sob through 'I dreamed a dream' is a unique joy, but it simply cannot beat hearing a chorus of unknowns- really, almost any chorus of unknowns- mumble through 'do you hear the people sing', and especially its reprise, a few feet away on the local am-dram stage because that music is just so all-encompassing, and being in the same room as it is just exquisite. Am I gushing? I don't care. That is some of the best music ever composed- and it comes with stirring lyrics! Who could ask for anything more?
To be in the same space as someone putting their all into that score (and it is a score which, like any great schoolteacher, demands one's all) is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I don't doubt for one moment that the entire cast of Les Mis the movie were giving it their utmost, and it does show, honest to God it does, but unless they're going to tour around the world and give us all a personal viewing to their performance, their film will always play second fiddle to any live showing of this musical.

As I said, had I not known the stage show previously, I would have been swept up in Les Mis mania and even now be using even more superlative language to try and force the world to go and see it. But sadly, it lives in a shadow- a huge shadow, yes, and one which allows a lot of room for growth, but a shadow nonetheless.
Nice try, Tom. Better luck next time.

P.S. Kate Fleetwood delivers a stellar performance as 'Random Factory Bitch'- I had never previously heard of her, and, indeed, had to look her up on IMDB; she just infused 'At the end of the day' with so much malice.

I just wish there were an Oscar for Best Actor/Actress in an Utterly Minor Role. Keep it up, Kate.

Why?

So, this is a new blog I've made where I will mainly be reviewing movies. Why have I done this? A) The point of The Wizard in Oz is to detail my adventures in Australia; it has a defined and finite purpose, which does not include reviewing movies; B) there may come a time where I have to provide proof of my reviewing prowess, and I can point people to this blog, without them having to wade through posts about that time I got really drunk at Milly's and C) I love movies, have a lot of opinions about them, and all my friends are sick of hearing from me. So, I give myself up to the uncaring void of the web, and let my tiny, whiny voice echo off the cavernous edges of it. So, that's why I'm here. Why are you here? Ask yourself that.