Carrie (2013) (SPOILERS*1)
Cert: 15 / 100 mins / Dir. Kimberley Peirce
The opening scene of the 2013 Carrie remake centres around fear, isolation, blood, violence and hope. A terrified woman, Margaret, gives birth alone, not understanding what's happening to her, convinced that the pain she's in is both a cancer and a punishment from God. When the agony subsides, she lifts her nightdress and looks in suspicion and wonder at the bloodied infant between her legs. Still convinced this is the Devil testing her, she lifts a pair of dressmaking scissors from the bedside table, determined to kill the baby. The eyes of the mother and child meet, the audience holds its breath, the blades fly downwards and stop an inch from the newborn's face. Margaret doesn't know it, but this is the first telekinetic action of her daughter. Instead, she thinks it's another sign, and in a moment of clarity holds the baby to her as she cries.
This is the last moment of clarity anyone has until you realise that you've paid money to sit through this shitfest.
What follows is an hour and a half of contractually obligated embarrassment, managing to be tedious, mechanical, clichéd and condescending, all at once. Outside of the newly written opening, this is a completely unambitious rehash of the 1976 film, but with the aesthetic of a 1980's teen-slasher. In fact, the only thing which indicates the film is happening 'today' is the use of a smartphone camera and YouTube, so clunkily inserted into the screenplay that you can feel your seat jump. It will be the only time during the film that this happens.
Carrie plods through its runtime, ticking boxes as the plot-points are counted home, and by the time the climactic prom-scene arrives, the audience feels only relief that it's almost over. But even for what should be a memorable sequence, so much time has been spent with the characters setting up the blood-soaked prank that there's no actual shock involved. That is, unless, you're as shocked as I was that blood which covers the unfortunate girl as she stands, humiliated, in front of her peers, is not the blood - either in formation or quantity - which fell on her from a height only seconds earlier. How do I know this? Well, so much money had been spend on the effects shot that we get to see the moment of impact three - THREE - times, like it's a fucking John Woo film. As the scene goes on, the splatter has spread, and things which were previously splashed are now soaked. All of this is put to one side, however, as Carrie telekinetically lifts her gym-teacher by the throat and the audience collectively mumbles "You have failed me for the last time, Admiral…"
The main problem (outside of the grinding predicability of the execution of the story, if not the story itself) is that while Chloë Grace Moretz reads her lines and pulls all the right faces, she doesn't have that otherworldly quality which makes an audience uneasy of her presence. She's just a slightly awkward kid getting bullied because she doesn't fit in. But Carrie isn't supposed to be a normal, dorky kid. She's supposed to be a genuine outsider, and this geek's revenge fantasy does little to convince a viewer of that. The only glimmer of anything worthy of your money is Julianne Moore's performance as Carrie's fearful, brainwashed, self-harming mother. But even then she's largely a pantomime villain, pushing the psychological buttons of the audience into wanting to see her harmed instead of pitying her. This emotional manipulation is a technique that the rest of the film attempts throughout, but can't pull off as you aren't given time to care about any of the characters. At best, this is a pointless remake; at worst, it's an insult to a classic of the genre*2.
Apart from anything else, why would the school library - an information resource in an actual educational establishment - have an inch-thick book on "Telekinesis", a volume which can only be entirely anecdotal at best? Why, when Carrie is shaking the house to bits in a rage, does the roof start to cave in and suddenly the kitchen floor is covered with large round pebbles? Were they in the loft? When Carrie returns from the prom and Margaret attempts to kill her, why isn't she using (for dramatic resonance) the scissors from the opening scene?
A parable for the iPhone generation, the bucket of pig's blood is about the least hammy thing in this whole farce...
Pffft.
I winced during the opening scene for the right reasons, and throughout the rest of the film for the wrong ones.
No.
None. None of these.
Yes. Yes I will.
No. No I won't.
No, but there is a boot-shot.
Why?
*1 As if Sony hasn't already spoiled things enough by fucking making this fiasco.
*2 And I say that as someone who doesn't particularly like the original.
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.
Free Birds (2D) (SPOILERS! …I suppose)
Cert: U / 91 mins / Dir. Jimmy Hayward
Hmmm. If your own publicity machine is going lay first claim on the phrase "turkey movie", you should probably make sure that the knowing irony you're intending it to be read with is justified, otherwise Monday morning's meeting is going to be quite embarrassing when the Metacritic and Rotten Tomatoes aggregate scores*1 become the elephant in the room.
Free Birds takes a passable enough premise (two turkeys - one free-range, one battery-farmed - steal a government time-machine to travel back to the first Thanksgiving and prevent the tradition of turkey-eating at the source), and for the most part, wastes it. For the first half of the movie, the script is lifeless and a lot of the gags (visual and scripted) just don't work. Things pick up in the remaining run-time, but it's really too late by then. There's a nice time-travel riff at one point, but it's over-telegraphed to begin with, and then over-explained; I know the movie's aimed at a young audience, but there's really no need to patronise them to this extent.
Elsewhere there are references to Mork & Mindy, Back To The Future, Star Wars and Indiana Jones, executed with varying levels of success. It's not that it's ever "a bad film", but it feels half-arsed. When the screenplay is setting up the time-travel riff, mentioned above, there's also the potential for another extension of it, more along the lines of Looper. Sadly this doesn't happen, and the wasted opportunity to get the younger audience members thinking and introduce some re-watch value is emblematic of the whole film (unless they're going to save that plot-thread for a sequel, of course). There's also the niggle that by altering the historic timeline, however amusing it looks on paper, the characters in the film end up in a version of the world which clearly isn't this one. It might have been a nice destination for the film, to give kids an alternative, fantastical spin on history. Alas, that wasn't to be.
And yet, towering above all of these gripes, for me at least, is the casting. There's no dynamic between the leads of Reggie (Owen Wilson) and Jake (Woody Harrelson). They may as well have read their lines on different days and had them edited together; then again, the script doesn't give them much to play with either. To make matters worse, if you're casting the parts of Big Red Stupid Bird and Small Blue Smart Bird, why would you choose two actors who sound almost identical? It's the animation equivalent of a mismatched-buddy-cop movie starring Mel Gibson and Kevin Costner.
Free Birds is a nice idea, thoroughly underdeveloped. Audiences deserve better, and luckily they probably won't have to wait too long to get it.
Largely.
Not as much as I wanted to.
For a UK audience, no. Even for a US audience it's doubful..
DVD at best.
No.
I shouldn't imagine so.
There isn't.
*1 38% and 19% respectively, at the time of writing. Ouch.
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.
The Butler Cert: 12A / 132 mins / Dir. Lee Daniels
There's a feeling running throughout Lee Daniels™'s The Butler that you've missed some of the hype somewhere, and this is A Terribly Important Film which you've gone to watch just because you quite fancied it, and the rest of the audience might be sitting stroking their chins in solemn appreciation but you're too scared to pop your head up and look round at them because you're just thinking that it's quite good. There are some beautifully acted, written and directed scenes which even the most hard-hearted cinemagoer will struggle to be unmoved by, but they're part of a loose, fairly rambling narrative in which the titular servant is more of an observer than a protagonist.
In many ways, a more accurate title would have been The Butler Who Rolls His Eyes At The Horrible World Around Him While He Just Tries To Do His Best For His Family. Watched with that title in mind, it's entirely charming, and Forest Whitaker has been excellently cast a well-meaning yet principled everyman, in a world of constant fluctuation. The 'strong' performances come from those around him, with David Oyelowo, Cuba Gooding Jr, Colman Domingo and even Oprah Winfrey*1 all getting a seemingly bigger bite of the acting pie. Whitaker's restrained grace, entirely in keeping with his diplomatic character, is the key, of course, but quite often it seems as though the butler is only acting as a conduit through which we see a greatest-hits reel of the civil rights movement over the last sixty years. By no means a bad thing, but by no means an original one, either.
The massive ensemble-cast also does the film no great favours, as the star-spotting game almost threatens to derail the sincerity of the events we're watching*2. Some of the presidential roles work well, some don't, but none of them really have to time to bed in, due to the timespan of the film and the relative brevity of being The Most Important Man In The World. Although, in the sections where the writers didn't want to cast a president, we get actual archive footage instead of prosthetic-heavy portrayals and (very well executed) recreations of historic speeches and broadcasts. Ultimately, I get the impression it would have been a better move to cast lesser known actors in these parts, although I'm sure that the kudos of the film drew the cast like moths to a flame. Lee Daniels™'s The Butler will be on many a CV for years to come.
It's absolute Oscar-bait, of course, and I don't doubt the conviction of anyone involved, but Lee Daniels™'s The Butler never quite builds the cinematic gravity it'll need to be remembered in the long term. I also fear that there's a broad political stereotyping at play with the presidents we do see, but I don't have the background in US politics to go any further into that (then again, if I can see it without the background, maybe it's worse than I'm imagining). I'm not sure that a film as left-leaning*3 as this is going to be as universally loved as the makers would like. It's certainly preaching to the choir…
But really, Lee Daniels™? We've got Cyclops as Mr President; he gets "assassinated" and his job is taken over by Sabertooth? And you expect me to believe there's no conspiracy there..?
"We're the future, Charles, not them…" ~ Erik Lehnsherr
It's deeper than the trailer suggests, but not too much deeper.
Largely.
I think it does, but maybe not to the extent that Lee Daniels™ would like it to.
It's a DVD movie.
No.
If it's on, but I probably won't go out of my way for it.
There isn't.
Am I the only one thinking it's *slightly* egotistical of director Lee Daniels to have his name included in the title of the film (IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes, Box Office Mojo) when he didn't write the screenplay or, presumably, orchestrate the true events in the film?
No?
It's just me, then.
Okay.
*1 Oprah who, incidentally, doesn't seem to age at all for about 30 years in-story before finally going full Back To The Future II in the 2008 segment. Truly bizarre given that the make-up department went to great lengths to adapt the visage of all the other cast members. At one point I was starting to think that her character might be a vampire…
*2 "Oh, Mr Rickman, that's great, you look the very image of dear old Ronnie. Now, can you read the lines in anything other than Alan Rickman's Voice™? Oh…"
*3 That's not a criticism, by the way. I'm very left-leaning myself, but I don't get the impression that it's a viewpoint which is going to sway The Academy at all...
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.
Parkland Cert: 15 / 94 mins / Dir. Peter Landesman
Peter Landesman's telling of the events surrounding the assassination of John F Kennedy could easily have gone down a mawkish route (especially with a release date to mark 50 years since the event), but his tense script and busy camera keep the running time fully on the rails, with little time for weeping. The only real sentimentality on show is the depiction of a time when the public revered, and even loved, their elected representatives. Even then, there's little in the way of judgement being bandied about; the parts of the film featuring the average citizen (these scenes are in a minority, admittedly) reflect the shock and helplessness of a public who could barely even imagine that something like this could happen, never mind that it would.
Now given that I'm no scholar on the subject, I've pretty much got to take the true story aspect of the film in good faith. There are great performances all round, especially in a marvellously tense scene in the emergency-room as doctors fruitlessly pound away at the deceased's chest, a deafening silence filling the room as no-one wants to be the one who gave up on The President while the packed room bears witness. Between the Parkland hospital staff who are faced first with trying to resuscitate the most powerful man in the world and just days later have the same task presented with his killer, the Secret Service and FBI agents trying to establish if they could have prevented the shooting, and the traumatised bystander who took one of the most infamous home movies ever, the film chooses its areas of scrutiny carefully. Even as it stands, and with only four days of events depicted, there's a lot to cover, so this is by no means a complete journal.
But for all the accomplished acting I've listed so far, the standout performances come from James Badge Dale and Jacki Weaver who star as Lee Harvey Oswald's brother and mother, respectively. The former is torn between trying to have some sympathy for his brother, despite being horrified at what he's pretty sure he's done, and facing increasing hostility from the public and police for guilt-by-association; the latter is a terrifying vision of an attention-seeking fantasist, literally attempting to cash-in on the actions of her son (who's even more certain that he's guilty). These can't have been easy parts to write, research or play, and they lift the film above the historical melodrama it could have been.
On a far less serious subject, the film features Jackie Earle Haley from Watchmen, Glenn Morshower from X-Men: First Class, and James Badge Dale from Iron Man 3. That's quite a spandex pedigree, isn't it?
It's to be applauded that the film centres on the memory of the events, rather than those of the man, whilst also largely steering clear of conspiracy theories. The number of angles the story is told from constantly jostle for position, not always successfully, but they also work together to form a tense patchwork of four days in 1963. It's doubtful how much light this will cast on events this far down the line, but it's a tale worth telling, nonetheless.
Yes.
I can't go that far, but the film kept my attention for its duration.
I think it does, if only because it's not trying to cover too much.
Realistically, this is a DVD-movie.
No.
At some point, but it's hardly "Oh, I know what I fancy watching tonight…".
There isn't.
Was I supposed to find it funny when the FBI agents were sawing into the doorway of the plane in order to fit Kennedy's battered coffin through? I seemed to be the only one chuckling, that's all.
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.
Hello. This is a guest-review from my friend, brother and geek-counsel, Porle. He loves Doctor Who in the same way I love Star Wars; a fact that I adore more than I can explain, and is the source of frequent cross-franchise conversations on merchandising, continuity and overall canon.
Although I've jotted down my own civilianpov on the 50th Anniversary special, Porle is far more qualified than I am to cast ultimate judgement over it, and since reading the review he submitted to me, I now regret using the term Whovian in my own piece. I'm sure he'll wreak his revenge by insisting to his friends that I am a Star Warrior at some point in the future…
Not only was there Moffat's potential cavalier changes to canon to consider, but previous anniversary episodes of Doctor Who have been less than a success. The Five Doctors in 1983 was a total let down to ten year old me as five Doctors meant five Doctors. Not three official Doctors, a man dressed as the first Doctor and some old footage from a shelved episode replacing the fourth Doctor.
And then there was 1993 in Albert Square...
No. I'll leave it there. It's too painful.
So, it was with justified trepidation that I consumed the hype-machine in 2013. Moffat brought Who back on track with Season Seven, ending in April this year with an episode featuring (briefly) appearances by past Doctors. Or at least, images of people dressed as previous Doctors, (there's a pattern here), but done quite successfully none the less. My excitement therefore, began to build. So the question trending in all corners of the internet was; "Who is John Hurt?"
For months we debated and discussed. We waded through Mr Moffat's false internet forum trails and then it happened. Thursday 14th November - The Night of the Doctor burst onto the internet revealing... Paul McGann! Eight glorious minutes of the Eighth Doctor regenerating into John Hurt! I punched the air and cheered like a fangirl when I viewed this for the first time. Not only did we know that John Hurt was The War Doctor but we had the missing regeneration from McGann that we'd waited 17 years for! If Moffat was beside me at that moment, I'd have kissed him. I was now full of faith for The Day of the Doctor. I'd been re-assured that canon and the Whoniverse were indeed in safe hands.
I wasn't disappointed.
From the original theme music at the beginning to a gloriously dramatic and touching ending, I sat entranced. For once, it wasn't like homework. The plot unravelled naturally and at a decent pace never once causing me to question what was occurring on-screen. Or was that the gin? Nods to the past were subtly inter-woven without fawning to itself or approaching the self-congratulatory. Nor were they intrusive to any non-Who fan who was watching. You either got it or you didn't. The plot didn't rely on it. I was a little disappointed with the Zygons. Not seen on Doctor Who since 1975, I was ecstatic that they were making a return. And they did. And then they just seemed to vanish... Ah well. There's only so much you can fit into 75 minutes I suppose. Let's not quibble.
The Tennant-Hurt-Smith dynamic worked really well without seeming contrived, the usual, "you've had the place re-decorated haven't you - I don't like it" line from a previous Doctor to the current was in there too. All boxes ticked. Moffat had said many times that TDOTD would be the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. It's time for a new era of 'Doctor Who', which is required if the show it to have continued success. But what would that be? well the answer was delivered in a way that we'd hoped but didn't ever think would happen. Tom Baker - famous for his rejection to invites of multi-Doctor stories - was there. Talking to Matt Smith. Wait...is that a tear?
No, something in my eye I think.
Mr Moffat - you did us proud.
Now, is anyone doing anything for the Blake's 7 50th in 2018...?
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.
The studio representative slouched to one side of the screen, his nightvision camera in-hand and his considerable stomach straining to be free of a work-shirt bought when he was two sizes slimmer. A Cineworld staff member stood in front of him, to his right. "Welcome to our second Secret Unimited Screening," he struggled over the audience chatter and in-screen muzak which hadn't been turned down for his announcement. "You've already been asked to turn your mobile phones off, and we ask that you keep them off for the duration of the film. The gentleman with me represents the makers of the film, and will be monitoring tonight's screening for any illegal recording…" (a large percentage of patrons had immediately turned their phones back on once they'd got to their seats. Either the security-rep couldn't see the glowing faces, or he just didn't care.) "I should also tell you that the film you're seeing tonight is an unfinished version, and won't be in cinemas until next month." (as it was the 25th of the month, the audience successfully hid their surprise at this exclusivity.)
After three trailers and another uneasy nail in the coffin of Kevin Bacon's credibility, the BBFC card lit up the faces of the audience… The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty, it read. The audience groaned, audibly. No, seriously. Not everyone, but enough that it was a thing. A lot of the folks here had probably seen the five minute promo that ran before Thor: The Dark World, where Ben Stiller sits in a hotel room, feigning awkwardness in introducing his latest movie, whilst also giving off vibes of genuine awkwardness. It's like Stiller doesn't quite know what slot it should fit into, so he tries to cover all the bases in the time he's allotted, and the end result feels like it's all over the place, ambitiously spinning more plates than it can hope to maintain.
Sadly, that promo is a spot-on representation of the film I saw tonight. Walter Mitty features some stunning photography, and it's clear than a lot of heart has gone into making it, yet that doesn't quite translate to the screen the way you know Stiller wanted it to. It's quite often smile-inducing, either through humour or charm, but the film is never different enough to escape the box it's urging us all to break out of. The escapist daydreams which the Mitty character is famous for disappear after the first act*1, leaving a film which feels a little like a cross between a midlife crisis and a hipster re-imagining of Lord Of The Rings. I honestly believe that "skateboard past an Icelandic volcano" was the deal-breaker from day one with this project. Ben is affable enough to carry his part off, as is his just-out-of-reach romantic foil, Wiig. But everyone other than Walter is presented in strictly one-dimensional terms, which is fine as the story's being told from Mitty's point-of-view, but Walter himself seems largely pencilled-in and aimless, rounding out his own story by luck, rather than judgement.
Films don't have to fit into just one slot, but audiences do expect them to, rightly or wrongly. The biggest problem is that The Secret Life of Walter Mitty doesn't really fit into any. I can't even call it a noble failure, as it's better than that; more of a beautifully photographed mess. For a film trying so hard to be inspirational, there's a distinct lack of sincerity.
Ben Stiller tries to show us his heart, but gets distracted more than his re-imagined Walter, and ends up presenting nothing more than a whimsical rom-com; which is light on both the rom and the com. The depth of field is often breathtaking, but the depth of character leaves a lot to be desired…
Pretty much.
Not as much as I'd have liked.
For me, not even close.
Iceland looks nice, big. Then again, Iceland always looks nice. You don't need Ben Stiller belting around on a skateboard to show it off..
No.
Maybe with Stiller's commentary.
There's a Wilhelm in the Cineworld extended preview, when he's the ice-explorer by the drinks machine (not in that trailer above, though), but it wasn't in the cut of the film we saw. I can't actually remember the last time I heard the scream in the trailer when it wasn't in the film itself, but I'm sure it'll be in the version you see..
Why is there a photo and sculpted-bust tribute to Peter Sellers in the same shot? Stiller has credited 'Being There' as an influence in this project, but did I miss an equal and/or bigger reference to… well, someone linked with Walter Mitty? This may be indicative of a larger problem, I think...
*1 SPOILERY THINGS: Unless I'm missing something big and the whole Greenland/Icelandic adventure thing was a daydream. But I stayed until the end of the credits and there was no suggestion of that, just the Happy Hollywood Ending™. I know the whole snow leopard thing was a massive metaphor, but the film also suggests that it's actually happening as well.
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.
