Review: Shazam! Fury Of The Gods

Shazam! Fury of The Gods
Cert: 12A / 130 mins / Dir. David F Sandberg / Trailer

So turbulent days aboard the S.S. DCEU mean that it's arguably not the best of times to be dropping the latest chapter in a continuity which may or may not be continuing and which has always regarded itself as, at best, advisory. But it's March and the rest of the calendar is full, so Shazam! Fury Of The Gods is here. The plot is as follows:

Something something, magic staff;
Something something, power.
Something something, superheroes vs gods;
Something something, Helen Mirren chewing the scenery like it's made by Wrigley's*¹.

True to form, DC and Warner Bros have turned out a product which is simultaneously trying too hard, and also has no idea what it's supposed to be doing. The vast majority of 2019's cast return for the sequel, and their performances are as assured as last time, if somewhat hampered by a weaker script. The undeniable strength here is that it's all firmly family-friendly, but any film doing that and bolting on a moral message runs the risk of being too patronising into the bargain. Shazam is no exception to this, and in a few places it feels like the message is being delivered by a touring theatre company to a school assembly.

The main problem though is that David F Sandberg is trying to re-capture the lightning-in-a-bottle which made the first entry so surprisingly great. The deadpan humour has the edge over the overtly scripted gags this time round, but the overall hit-rate is more patchy. Without the origins-story structuring the run-time, this quickly becomes a generic good/evil headbasher; fine if you haven't seen that before, but there are few people in 2023's audience who fit that description.

The film is as accomplished as you'd expect from a studio this size, but also with absolutely no restraint. The visuals veer wildly between High School Musical, Doctor Strange and Hogwarts, sacrificing its identity in the process. The third-act battle for Philadelphia feels like a white noise migraine where the effects teams have been told to do whatever they want because none of this matters any more.

Unfortunately, Fury Of The Gods doesn't have the energy or conviction of its predecessor, too mired in its own mythology to do anything interesting with the storyline. But for a kids' film it's fairly decent, and if that sounds like damning with faint praise, it absolutely is...

*¹ She's a bonafide national treasure of course but god bless Helen Mirren, who appears to have confused leading the vanguard for mature actresses securing prominent roles in Hollywood, with blithely casting aside all dignity for a quick and easy paycheck. You know for a fact that she's watched Blanchett and Hopkins in Thor and thought 'I could do that'. Well yes Helen, you probably could. But not with a DC script, as you have now discovered. It's less Shakespeare, more Mother Goose. Still, spend the money wisely, yeah? ^{[ BACK ]}

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Review: Isabelle

Isabelle
Cert: 18*¹ / 80 mins / Dir. Rob Heydon / Trailer



Well, then. The 2018 British Horror Film Festival took place at Cineworld Leicester Square on Sat 24th November, and I was lucky enough to see some of its content. I've done a quick roundup of some of the short films on offer here. There were things to watch, there were questions to be asked and I'm delighted to note that most of my pointers from last year seem to have been taken onboard. Nice to know I'm not wasting my time, at least.

Part of all this was Rob Heydon's Isabelle, the story of Larissa (Amanda Crew) and Matt (Adam Brody), a young couple expecting a baby who move into a new house in New York State*². When Larissa miscarries, the trauma and isolation she feels is heightened by the strange young wheelchair-bound woman in the neighbouring house, Isabelle (Zoë Belkin), who always seems to be watching from the upstairs window. And none of this is helped by the girl's reclusive mother Ann (Sheila McCarthy) and the hushed whispers in the neighbourhood about the house…

First things first, this wasn't a hate-watch. Second things second, I didn't hate it. Third things third, but I have issues. Or rather, the film has…

NEIGHBOUR

Oh, mate. When your supernatural neighbour is actually, really, actual cackling, you're probably trying too hard. Yet conversely, not hard enough. It's fine having the creepy villain sitting in the upstairs window next door, but like the Eiffel Tower in a bad euro-thriller, she's apparently visible from every room in Larissa and Matt's house.

The film feels let down by its own jump-scares and desaturated colour-palette. Blumhouse have already flogged that horse to death and I'm certain Isabelle had more to offer at an early stage. Heydon can't quite make up his mind what story he wants to tell, or how it needs to be told. Between the eerie nursery, the near-death experience, the Samara-Lite™ across the way, the third-act exposition coming from a series of old newspaper articles and a possession sub-plot which isn't sure if it's based around fanatical Catholicism or the occult, there's a disappointing lack of anything actually new.

Oh, and the baddie has glowing red eyes. That's how we know she's bad.

SULLIVAN

Isabelle is structurally sound but feels like it's bringing nothing to the party. It has the air of a short film which has been expanded out to feature-length*³, but then doesn't have the extra writing to properly explore the psychological roots of it characters. On top of this jumble, we get occasional scenes from inside next door's house which telegraph the backstory before our protagonists find out, so that it's not clear whose perspective this is all coming from.

The film runs on rails like a ghost train made by people who have only ridden on other ghost trains. The story's big reveal takes its sweet time coming, which is ironic since it's been telegraphed since the first appearance of The Ghoul Next Door. Mark Korven's score is intrusive, not bad per se, but just generic fare played too loudly and too often. And Finder Spyder, the in-movie search engine equivalent of the Wilhelm Scream, for when you know in advance that Google will just say no.

Oh, and then there's some tacked-on, batshit-crazy Sliding Doors type ending which can only be because a) writer Donald Martin wanted a happier ending than the one the screenplay was otherwise headed to, or b) writer Donald Martin thinks this might leave it open to… a… a sequel (quiet at the back).

SON AND DAUGHTER

I actually felt slightly bad about watching Isabelle in a cinema (although it was thankfully the one of the day where the creators weren't present in the room), because this is otherwise destined straight for the DVD shelf in Sainsbury's. And not the one with the chart releases on it.

The worst thing is that the emotional cornerstone of Isabelle is grief, with Amanda Crew and Adam Brody both turning in really strong performances and moments of genuine upset. To a lesser extent there's a parallel story playing out over at Isabelle's house, although that's really not explored. All of this seems like it's gone to waste as a lot of heavyweight issues and themes are papered over with a cheap horror flick, the very opposite of what the genre is best at.

Fun fact: Isabelle won the award for Best Feature Film at the British Horror Film Festival 2018.

Unrelated fact: Because the screening of The Exorcism Of Karen Walker was cancelled at the 11th hour*⁴, Isabelle was the only feature film to play at the British Horror Film Festival 2018.

Make of that what you will.

All of the other suburban horror-flicks, let's be fair.



It's not.



Stream it, tops.



Nope.



I've you've watched it as well, probably not.



There isn't.



Level 2: Amanda Crew was in that Age Of Adaline with Harrison 'Solo' Ford.





*¹ Well, the rating on my ticket and on Cineworld's website says it's an 18, but the film isn't actually listed on the BBFC site yet which means it isn't officially rated. It plays like a 15, anyway. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² Yeah, I don't quite understand how a film from a Canadian director, with a Canadian cast and set in America is being presented at the British Horror Film Festival, either. Although this sort of thing happened last year, too. ^{[ BACK ]}

*³ Well, 80 minutes. I mean, 90 is the rock-bottom standard for a feature, but 80 (including the end-credits, remember) just feels like it isn't trying. Yet at the same time, there's a lot of padding which could come out with no adverse affect (probably the opposite, in fact). ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁴ And this is in no way intended to put down the BHFF, but what was last year a multi-day festival with four feature screenings plus shorts on the one I attended, seems to have become a one-day event with twelve shorts and one full-length movie (due to the aforementioned cancellation). Less of a Festival™ and more of a Hiring Out Screen 2 For The Day™ with some trophies in the corner. And while it was moderately busy, the screenings I was at weren't sold out and seemed to be mostly populated by people coming to watch their own movies, although I suspect that's a Film Festival thing in general. I just get the impression that either interest in the BHFF is waning, or it was organised at the last minute. Frightfest doesn't have this problem. There, I said it. ^{[ BACK ]}


DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Review: C.H.i.P.s.

C.H.i.P.s.
Cert: 15 / 101 mins / Dir. Dax Shepard / Trailer



So when Dax Shepard™ is laying the Act I groundwork for his day-saving crescendo, he indicates to an interviewing officer that his right-humerus has been replaced with titanium. But when three bullets bounce off it at a plot-critical moment in Act III, they ricochet off his left-arm. So either the central character forgot to mention that he had replacements in both arms (he didn't, he refers to 'a', singular), or this film is too blisteringly fucking stupid to remember its own callback.

'…S.H.i.T.e.'

...


I genuinely have no idea.
Certainly not C.H.i.P.s.



Wel, the surrounding audience seemed to enjoy the film plenty. Although that also includes the patron next to me who slurped on his slush-cup for about three minutes before realising it was empty. Although after each round of guffawing, the same punter did slyly look at me to see if I'd cracked a smile yet. I hadn't.



Well, this is very clearly The Dax Shepard™ Vanity Hour, so it probably does. The film does not exist as a tribute, homage or even reference to the original TV series. It is a seriously below-par buddy-cop comedy with brand-licensing applied over the top. As writer, director, exec-producer and star, Dax has gone The Full Sandler in ensuring he smirks his way through the film, being awarded with awe, respect and All The Hot Chicks without having to develop his character one bit.

This is indeed the film which Dax Shepard™ intended to make.



It's not. One of the main problems (other than Dax Shepard™) is that Michael Peña starred in pretty much the same role in pretty much the same film less than a year ago. War On Everyone has more than its share of problems, but at least it knows exactly how obnoxious it is.

It's nice that Erik Estrada went on to retweet negative comments about the movie, despite having taken a paycheck from it. Although I'm fairly sure that when Estrada agreed to step onto the set for his clanging-great cameo appearance, he hadn't read the final draft of the script, let alone seen any completed footage, quite possibly more impressed by the roll-call of US comedy stalwarts also onboard, who quite frankly should know better.

The only point in its favour is that if CHiPs didn't exist for the sole purpose of stroking Dax Shepard™'s not inconsiderable ego, it would probably star Mark Wahlberg and be getting an even wider release as a result…



*narrows eyes*
*nods imperceptibly*

…try it.



No.



Level 2: Kristen Bell's in this. She was in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, as was Bill 'BB-8' Hader.



I do not hand out 'ones' lightly.

I'd like to really rip into CHiPs and tell you it's the morally and artistically offensive turd in Warner Bros' festering comedy crown, but the truth is it's not even worthy of that much analysis. Although I'm still smiling at the thought of the cast and crew having it on their IMDB pages permanently like a punishment-brand, so the film's left me with something, at least…


DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.