There are some movies where if the projector broke down 15 minutes before the end, you wouldn't be too bothered. It's not that you could figure out where everything was headed, more that the inevitable conclusion would mean as little as everything you'd already seen on the way there. You'd just pick up what's left of your popcorn and head out, safe in the knowledge that at least the extra quarter of an hour could be spent further dissecting the movie over a pint on the way home.
Anyway, I saw all of Crazy Rich Asians on Saturday night. And it didn't matter.
We follow Rachel Chu (Constance Wu), a young lecturing professor in New York as she discovers that her boyfriend of the last year, Nick Young (Henry Golding), is from an extremely wealthy family in the far East. As their relationship has grown, Nick wants to take Rachel home for his best friend's wedding, and to meet the family. But Nick's mother Eleanor (Michelle Yeoh), while a strong-minded businesswoman, harbours a grudge of Americans and their gaucheness. To make matters worse, the younger element of Nick's extended family and friends in Singapore display even more louche decadence than their counterparts in the US.
Can Rachel win over Nick's traditionalist family and hedonistic contemporaries? Can Nick find the balance between independence and traditionalism? Do I even need to be asking these questions?
No, I don't. Imagine securing the production and mainstream distribution budgets for an Asian-led comedy which (to its credit) doesn't treat itself as a self-aware novelty, then turning out something as insipid as this. And sure, the Guardian-reader in me wants to give Crazy Rich Asians a pass because it's bearing the standard for a demographic shift the industry badly needs, but if this movie was a vehicle for Katherine Heigl, Anna Kendrick or Channing Tatum I'd be all over it like Jason Voorhees at a summer-camp all nighter. So no quarter I'm afraid…
A two-hour advertisement for the Singapore Tourist Board, Peter Chiarelli and Adele Lim's screenplay is the dictionary definition of On The Nose, apparently comprising 30% plot-driving details and 70% autopilot platitudes. It's based on Kevin Kwan's 2013 novel, like that's some sort of get-out-of-jail-free card. Either way, the end result is thoroughly superficial and with no ambition other than the ancillary sales of a jukebox soundtrack.
To make matters worse, the movie feels like it's being directed by someone who's only ever watched romantic comedies from the 1990s. We're treated to a burgeoning romance between two impossibly attractive and morally flawless lead characters, followed by disapproving in-laws, bitchy/boorish contemporaries, a musical makeover montage and a third-act dash to the airport capped off with a round of applause from a bunch of strangers.
If the point of this is to show Western audiences that Eastern culture has become as bland and annoying as their own, then well done, I guess?
Credit where it's due though, the wedding-sequence is stunningly shot. It's just a shame that the rest of the movie hasn't earned that. I also loved the Mandarin-language cover of Yellow, by Katherine Ho. It's not lost on me that the best Coldplay song is no longer by Coldplay, and the world feels better that way.
Movie producers: As I was pressed to observe recently, the studio comedy system in its current form largely sucks. Sure, you can be part of that, it seems like easy money. That's because there's no artistic merit involved. Your work defines your reputation. Don't assimilate, innovate.
Because it's coming to something when one of the comedic highlights of your film is Ken Jeong, which puts Crazy Rich Asians officially on the same shelf as the third Transformers movie and the second Hangover…
Pretty much very rom-com between the mid 90s and the point a few years back where they started putting dick-jokes in them.
No.
No.
No.
That's likely.
No.
Level 2: Gemma Chan's in this, and she's in the upcoming Captain Marvel movie with Sam 'Windu' Jackson and Ben 'Krennic' Mendelsohn.
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.
Yardie Cert: 15 / 102 mins / Dir. Idris Elba / Trailer
The problem when you're an actor as accomplished as Idris Elba and you move into directing with a project you're clearly passionate about is… well, expectation. Because people are waiting for great things to follow that BBFC card, and even though that's half the critical battle won, what comes next will be the decider.
Adapted by Martin Stellman and Brock Norman Brock from Victor Headley's 1992 novel, Yardie follows a young Jamaican, D (as in D for Dennis, played by Aml Ameen) making his way up the drug-dealing ladder in 1983 Kingston as he's then sent to London to calm him down. The turf wars of his homeland become the sound-system battles of England's capital, but the difference is only superficial as old scores have followed D across the Atlantic, in addition to the trouble he packed himself…
In short, Yardie is a good film.
In long, it's not a great one, though… Aml Ameen is outstanding in the main role, carrying the charisma of a young Jamie Foxx. I wanted Yardie to be longer just to watch him more and look forward to seeing him lead other movies. Meanwhile, Elba does well to resist the temptation of getting distracted by the story's outlandish secondary characters. Most notably, Stephen Graham's Rico is to Yardie what Sharlto Copley's Vernon is to Free Fire; a loose cannon who amuses and terrifies in equal measure, with a fantastic faux-Jamaican accent which dips into Cockney whenever he loses control*1. Yet he's still used sparingly here; less is more.
The sets and period detail are gorgeous in their urban decay. The claustrophobia of D's life when he reaches England means that the final result looks slightly less than cinematic, but still so much more than televisual. While cinematographer John Conroy has obviously been limited to locales which fit the 1983 aesthetic, East London is presented with the same meticulous affection as West Kingston. Everything in Yardie feels like it's been done on the director's terms, and is more rewarding as a result. It's not so much that it's an 'uncompromising' film tonally, but still one that's been made without compromise.
But it's a film that can't manage to sweep its audience away to another world completely, probably unless they've already got a first-hand nostalgia for the location and era, anyway*2. Yardie never quite manages to find its own voice. While Elba's work has an intimate, if not autobiographical, feel to it, the fingerprints of Guy Ritchie and Matthew Vaughn are plain to see (in the best possible way). An anti-hero trying to find his place among gang wars and infighting, set against the backdrop of a grimy metropolis, this could be the closest to a Grand Theft Auto flick we've had since the game series began. Certainly the closest which also takes its story very seriously.
But that's the problem. Structurally, the tale is so universal that the events could easily be transferred to the echelons of the Mafia, the Yakuza, or yes a GTA spinoff, with barely a beat missed. The only real fingerprint of identity is reduced to a background setting. At the same time, the story here is personal to the point that the stakes never feel that big. It's about D's own struggle rather than that of a movement or an era, and this holds back the flow back because D is a naturally guarded person, he's had to be, so the audience always feel like outsiders.
A crime movie like this is only going to end one of two ways, and you get the impression that either of them wouldn't have had much of an effect on the larger picture. The gang problem existed in both Kingston and London before D got involved, and whether he lives or dies at the end of this, the audience know it'll continue anyway. Similarly, the small family our protagonist manages to start certainly seems to be getting on better in his absence than when he returns in a turbulent cloud of problems. That he cares for them is never in any doubt; whether he's the best thing for them, is. We're interested in D, we just never get the opportunity to really like him. And without that, it's difficult to be rooting for the hero.
There's plenty to enjoy in Yardie. This is a solid directorial debut for Elba, but it feels slightly constrained by working from an adapted novel. But given the man's acting pedigree and now this vision behind the camera, I think Idris is going to be an important filmmaker in the years to come.
Best line:"Take your grandma's suitcase and get to fuck…"
Level 1: That outpost-trader from the Ring Of Kafrene in Rogue One is in this.
You know the one. You do. You know him.
*1 I'm not going to lie, a lot of the Jamaican conversational dialogue went right over my head, even though the gist of the story was still very clear. Elba made a joke in a recent interview about a subtitled version of the film, and while I realise that would be patronising (especially with screenings in the UK), let's just say I'm looking forward to the DVD... [ BACK ]
*2 And for the record, while we're here, I'm not a fan of Reggae, Dancehall or Ska. So while everyone else is all "oh, but the soundtrack!", that was another hill I was having to climb. I mean it didn't annoy me as I know it's integral to the movie, but at the same time I couldn't use the music as an entry-point to build upon. [ 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.
Imagine being a set-hand on Brian Henson's The Happytime Murders. You're pretty low down the ladder but it's your first job on an actual movie and you're just excited to be there. This is where the magic happens. It's Tuesday and a scene is being filmed where two Muppets™-style puppets are noisily having sex in an office with a frosted-glass door and windows. The police are talking to a secretary (played by Maya Rudolph) outside the office, who's acting as if everything's normal. The male puppet 'pulls out' and, while the audience don't see his penis, he proceeds to ejaculate all over the office. This takes the form of silly-string, which is effectively a visual punchline to the joke. It's funny because they're puppets.
But this is a gross-out comedy from (among others) H.Brothers, starring Melissa McCarthy, and the audience have expectations. So the ejaculation continues. The people working on the set (yourself included) can imagine the tears of hilarity running down the faces of the audience as they watch this. But that's not enough. Director Brian Henson wants his cast to ad-lib their lines, looking for that elusive off-the-cuff comedy gold which often can't be captured in the writers-room. As set-hand, it's your job to clean the office-interior set so the crew can run again. And so they do. Noisy sex noises and silly-string resume. This means that in the new take, the distinct pattern sprayed on the door and windows will be noticeably different when edited into the original shot as one continuous sequence, but the director is sure this won't be noticed by the crowd having a good time on a Friday night. It's all good.
Then Brian wants to go again. To get more quality improvisation. Clean the windows, clean the door, sit back down. Action. Screaming, ejaculation, a different array of puppet jizz. That wasn't enough. Let's do one more take. Wiping, action, screaming, jizz. No, again. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Again. Again? Surely the comedy-well has to be dry by now? Surely these shots can't be intercut with the broken continuity of the silly-string jizz? Yes they can. Again. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Everyone on-set is finding this hilarious. You see, it's funny because they're puppets. That may look like silly-string, but in the final movie it'll be jizz. Jizz is funny. Puppet-jizz is hilarious. Brian isn't quite happy with that last take. He thinks we could get more. You reach for your cloth.
You're just glad to be working in the film industry.
Your family are so proud your dream's come true.
You'll screenshot your name in the credits to go on Facebook.
Anyway, I went to watch The Happytime Murders, the comedically tone-deaf movie that can't tell the difference between a punchline and a profanity! The film which takes an interesting concept then grinds it straight down to the lowest common denominator of dick-jokes and witless improv. The USP - of humans and puppets interacting in a straight plot-driven story, with the difference between them noted and worked into the script as social segregation - is largely abandoned after ten minutes when everyone realises it's just easier to hope for a laugh by swearing. The first punchline of the movie is "well fuck you". Melissa McCarthy's first line contains the word "fuck", her last contains "asshole". The film's not a particularly great pastiche on either the buddy-cop nor film noir-genres, and has nothing else to say in the meanwhile*1.
Credit where it's due though - the puppeteering itself is pretty great. From the very first scene, I had no trouble at all in buying the felt denizens as their own separate characters. They're just characters who are as annoying as the ones played by humans.
Still, it's always nice to see Melissa McCarthy outmatched in terms of comic timing by a puppet.
Imagine putting the "asshole says what" joke into your 15-rated movie, in 2018. Imagine putting the "asshole says what" joke into your movie twice, because you want the second one to act as a callback, like you invented it. Then imagine having one of your characters stopping to explain the "asshole says what" joke.
Imagine looking in the mirror every day and seeing Brian Henson.
*1 Typical scene-ending punchlines include: "Fuck you" (yes, again), "You bit my dick" and "First time I've knocked a guy out with his balls". I don't want to come off as a prude, here. I'm not. My own language is generally quite horrific in relaxed company, as is my sense of humour. But swearing isn't the same as wit. The general level here is just bad writing and/or bad improv. Still, the crowds like it, I suppose? Well, not the crowd in my Friday screening, there were five of us. But it's been out since Monday so I imagine it was packed until Thursday. [ 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.
Alpha (2D)
Cert: 12A / 96 mins / Dir. Albert Hughes / Trailer
Well, if there's one good thing to come out of Albert Hughes' boy-meets-dog adventure Alpha, it's that we've finally unlocked the secret to preventing Sony from cramming their movies with retail-product placement. Okay, that secret involves setting the story approximately 20,000 years in the past, but if that's what it takes...
Anyway. Imagine the digitally enhanced filmscape of Life of Pi but with minimal dialogue and any sense of broader metaphor stripped away, and you'll get a good idea of what Alpha feels like. Separated from his ice-age tribe, young Keda (Kodi Smit-McPhee) has to journey home across the tundra, befriending an injured wolf along the way, which turns out to be the beginning of mankind's relationship with dogs*1. It's not quite as sentimental as one might imagine, but it's not quite as satisfying either.
Credit where it's due, there's some stunning scenery on display here. But the film's visual excesses play their hand early on, after which the audience is never sure whether they're appreciating the work of the cinematographer or the visual effects teams. There's no reason why these can't work hand-in-hand of course, but sections of Alpha are so heavily CGId that you'd wonder why they didn't just save time by animating the movie in its entirety.
Similarly, Kodi Smit-McPhee doesn't feel quite right in the leading role as the tribal chieftan's callow son. He puts in a good turn and is naturally suited to the characteristics, but it's like the part itself hasn't been finalised on the page, so he'll never be able to nail it. Again, a CGI (or better still, anime) story would have skipped straight over this.
But the core of the film is the relationship between Keda and his rescued companion, Alpha. At only 96 minutes including the setup-time, this never really gets deep on an emotional level, and some of the more enhanced shots of our canine friend make it look like a different animal altogether (still a wolf, just a completely different one). But the isolation of the pair at least allows for uninterrupted development, even if the film's convenient invention of pull-toys and the game of fetch feels a little on the nose.
Overall, Alpha is an interesting idea, unevenly executed. It's a shame the film's technical ambitions aren't matched by its narrative ones, and that none of it really holds together as a result. I suspect that both director Hughes and screenwriter Daniele Sebastian Wiedenhaupt had greater ambitions for the project, which got sanded down or lost on the long, arduous journey to the screen…
The last five minutes are good though, because dogs are awesome.
Not particularly, although it'll look nowhere near as impressive on your TV.
You'll probably only get one watch out of this; stream it.
I'm taking a point off for Morgan Freeman's opening and closing narration.
Completely unnecessary, thoroughly phoned-in and the easiest 15 minutes work he's ever banked a cheque for, the lazy hack.
What's worse, without this, the film would have no real dialogue (the language spoken by the characters was created specifically for the production and is subtitled on-screen), so could be enjoyed by hearing-impaired audiences without the need to wait for a fully-subtitled performance, being effectively 'on the same level' in terms of understanding the speech. This is still the case since Freeman's bookends add literally nothing to the movie, but without it this could have been a marketing tool in the film's favour.
Probably.
Nope.
Level 2: Kodi Smit-McPhee is in this, and he was in that X-Men: Apocalypse with Rose 'Dormé' Byrne and Oscar 'Dameron' Isaac.
*1 Okay, it was Keda who injured the wolf in the first place, but that's not the point. If they'd framed Alpha as the prehistoric origins of Stockholm Syndrome, it might have been even more difficult to market... [ 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.
