Ghostbusters (30th Anniversary Screening)
Cert: 12A / 100 mins / Dir. Ivan Reitman
Well, it's difficult to know what to really say about Ghostbusters. My last review (ie cinema vewing) of the film was only back in 2011, and I wrote (albeit briefly) about why the film is still great a couple of weeks ago. What can I tell you? I love Ghostbusters
I love Ghostbusters even though the '4K remastered' version still goes incredibly grainy in some of the shots. I love Ghostbusters even though the claymation looks like claymation, and in an early establishing shot of the stone-Zuul looking down on the New York street, you can see the yellow lines running through his 'opaque' fang (and again later on, when the spirit-orbs are escaping from the containment facility and swooping behind buildings). I love Ghostbusters even though poor old Winston Zeddemore seems to serve little purpose other than being introduced with sparse fanfare in the second act to add (a little) diversity to the colour-palette and to be the voice of pragmatism in the company of three eccentric scientists. I love Ghostbusters even though the mini-earthquake outside the apartment building is so unfounded and non-committal in its existence that it seems like a padding device before the screenplay begrudgingly propels its heroes to the climax which, riding on the coat-tails of the awesome Mr Stay Puft, is actually just a cop-out of 'fire the guns at the portal utilising the callback we set up in the ballroom scene earlier, and then the bad guy will just disappear'.
What? I love Ghostbusters.
As a trailer for selling the film, not really. As a device for getting people back to the cinema, just maybe.
I did. Again.
Every time.
Cinema as and when you can, but this is a movie made to be watched at home with friends and drinks.
Just a touch.
I will. Again.
Y'know what? I didn't hear one.
Is it just me that still doesn't quite get the geography of Dana's flat, what with the secret door and then the exterior shot once the walls have been blown off?
It is, isn't it?
Just me.
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.
Nightcrawler Cert: 15 / 117 mins / Dir. Dan Gilroy
A fast-talking, but ultimately unfocused loner, Louis Bloom ekes out a life as a petty thief and con-man, until one night he witnesses a road accident close-up and gets an idea of the money which can be made in selling first-shot footage of emergency and crime scenes to TV news networks. Armed only with a camcorder, police radio scanner and a fanatical determination, Louis quickly establishes a name for himself as the man behind some of TV's most gruesome reportage, and he soon discovers there's a fine line between being an early-witness to a scene and a late-participant. But when money and exclusivity dictate morality, those lines are hard to see in the Los Angeles night…
Typical, isn't it? You wait years for a film about a deranged fantasist who'll stop at nothing to manipulate everyone around them in the cold pursuit of an ever elusive goal, set against the backdrop of the worst aspects of US broadcast media… and then two come along at once. In many ways, Dan Gilroy's Nightcrawler is the perfect companion-piece to Gone Girl, but where Rosamund Pike's Amy leads the TV companies (among others) on a merry dance as an aid to her cause, Jake Gyllenhaal's Louisbecomes the media, in a deepening spiral of attention-seeking narcissism.
The film features an award-worthy performance from Gyllenhaal. The mania we see in the trailer is only a shadow of what's in the film, and Jake brings a complex performance to a single-minded character. There are hints that Louis has an undiagnosed learning disorder, and in the early part of the film is pretty much the only sympathetic trait for the audience to grasp. But his sociopathic personality almost renders that moot, and as the events in the film spiral worryingly well-within control, we're left simultaneously mesmerised and horrified, watching what's essentially the Scarface of rolling news.
For the supporting cast, Rene Russo gets her teeth into the role of Channel 6 news manager, Nina Romina, the source of Bloom's income and object of his manipulative affections. Riz Ahmed also shines as the nervous and put-upon Rick, general assistant and street-navigator in Louis's burgeoning enterprise. It's worth noting that pretty much all the other characters (crucially including Bill Paxton's rival nightcrawler, Joe) are reduced to background roles and stepping-stones, which is exactly how Louis sees them. As much of an astounding team-effort as this is, Nightcrawler really is Jake's film.
A story which picks you up with its sheer force of character and refuses to let go, Nightcrawler makes complicit, rubber-necked ghouls of us all. Not so much a cautionary tale, more a statement about where we are and how we got here; Dan Gilroy's film is perfect car-crash cinema, and for once that's a soaring compliment…
It points in the right direction; tonally, at least.
I did.
Pretty sure it does, yes.
Nightcrawler is visually dark as well as thematically, so it's pretty much designed to be watched in a darkened auditorium.
Maybe a little.
I will, indeed.
There ain't.
A bright red Camaro for stealth-reporting, though? I'm glad that got mentioned in the script, because it's what the rest of us had been thinking for about forty-five minutes…
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 Book Of Life (3D)
Cert: U / 95 mins / Dir. Jorge R. Gutierrez
Well, there we go. Mere days after pondering about the enduring films of 2014, the 'oh, that looks quite interesting' trailer for Jorge R. Gutierrez's animated adventure, The Book Of Life, translates itself as quite possibly the most outstanding film I've seen this year. No, really. An energetic folk/fairy tale based around Mexico's Day Of The Dead holiday, this is a film which will work on levels for all audiences, and is a thing of immense beauty.
Guardians of the afterlife, La Muerte and Xibalba's tempestuous relationship is based around observing life on Earth and sharing wagers regarding the outcomes of individual stories. Watching three children playing, two boys (Manolo and Joaquin) chasing the affections of a girl (Maria), Xibalba asserts that the showy braggart Joaquin will win the heart of Maria, rather than his aspiring musician counterpart, Manolo. When La Muerte takes the bet, things spiral to a head and we learn that human nature isn't just limited to humans…
What can I tell you? I haven't had this much fun in a U-rated film since Monsters University. The character design is vibrant and varied, as is the accompanying voice acting, with a post-Burtonesque feel that manages to present a story centred around death in a way which is warm and completely unthreatening. And that's what is; a life affirming, tear-inducing*1 triumph of a film.
A modern-day framing device wraps around the story, allowing for unintrusive narration and letting the narrative skip forward at an advanced rate when needs be. As well as the 3D computer animation, the story-in-a-story also dips into traditional 2D methods to present its own flashback sequences, both styles complementing the Mexican aesthetic perfectly. The script is as sharp and layered as any of the major players have given us in recent years (the film's producers Reel FX Animation are relative newcomers to the cinema arena, most notably giving us 2013's Free Birds). The verbal gags aren't so much subversive as outright geekish, referencing (among others) Anchorman's "I immediately regret this decision", set against a backdrop of visual and slapstick jokes.
Also shining past the visuals and bringing an unashamed smile to my face is the film's soundtrack. A mix of original compositions and Mariachi covers of (again, among others) Radiohead and Mumford & Sons, if the music to this film doesn't have you grinning then you're already living in the Land of the Forgotten…
A joy from start to finish, The Book Of Life succeeds by being bold and different without resorting to garishness. Tales of lost love and reanimation don't come much more heartwarming than this…
Largely, although it still sells the film short a little.
I did.
Undoubtedly.
Cinema for the best result, although the 3D's optional (even if it's well implemented).
I just might…
I will.
Didn't hear one, but if you did, let me know.
Come on, when was the last time you watch a U-rated movie that directly quoted Kill Bill*2?
*1 Yup. And from both eyes, no less. #unashamed
*2 After a lengthy serenade and lamppost climb to his love's balcony, potential suitor Manolo is met with Maria's almost-kiss and "You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?" … "Actually, I kinda did." A gorgeous, gorgeous moment.
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.
David Ayer's 1940s grimace-fest is a difficult film to like, and I mean that as both a compliment and a detraction. So much time is spent in the first act illustrating what a bunch of a-holes Brad Pitt's war-weary tank crew have become, that when the shit really hits the fan and the man-hugs start breaking out, you've still got the abiding memory of a bunch of borderline sociopaths dampening the emotional atmosphere. Strangely, it was only two days ago that I re-stumbled across the phrase 'no characters think of themselves as the bad guy; they're all the heroes in a different movie'. It seems that in Fury, almost the opposite is true, and writer/director Ayer is so keen to illustrate the morally corrosive effect of sustained warfare that no-one in the film escapes with their halo intact.
But Fury isn't an ode to the pointlessness of war (not on the surface, at least), even if it does veer as closely to War Horse as it does Inglourious Basterds. And while I'm on the subject, allow me to throw in a pre-emptive yes, I'm comparing it to Tarantino's war-movie. Ayer's flick stars Brad Pitt in a role that's not a million miles away from Lt. Aldo Raine, and like its counterpart it has a tendency to drop into extended dialogue scenes. This, however, is where Uncle Quentin has the undeniable upper-hand. David Ayer seems far more interested in directing brutal and bloody violence than he does the quiet, character-building scenes, which pretty much gives the lie to any philosophical undertones the film might be suggesting…
Praise where it's due, the combat scenes in Fury (whether they're melee, firearm or artillery-based) are fucking astounding. Seriously. The sound-design details every ping, bang, ricochet and thudding explosion; the visual effects feature a rotoscoping for the gunfire which reminded me of the original-print version of 1977's Star Wars; and Roman Vasyanov's camera captures every twitch, scowl and grimace on the faces of a not-inconsiderable cast. The central players all do a solid job of giving complex performances*1, but there are hints of character which are drowned out by the explosions, and which could have been expanded far more given the opportunity.
When it's being a war-movie, Fury wears its title on its sleeve like a well-earned medal. It's the other film I had issues with. The one which is trying to justify lingering repeatedly on the unrelenting violence by giving us mumbled dialogue and skipping over the exposition of a narrative so linear that the tanks barely need to steer. The film which has its knowingly-flawed characters preach about the evils of the enemy for two hours leading up to a finale where there are no heroes, just a thinly-justified slaughter. Maybe that's the point? But I wasn't convinced that the film was an essay on duty, resignation and combat-stress. It's having far too much fun playing soldiers to be thoughtful.
Despite all my moaning, I enjoyed Fury, I'm just not sure what the writer is trying to say with it…
It's pretty much the size of it, but the trailer doesn't indicate the film's pacing issues (for obvious reasons).
For the most part, but I wasn't feeling the emotion.
Personally, I don't think it does.
You'll get the most out of Fury by seeing it big and loud in the cinema.
Nope.
Probably, yes.
There is. I'd be amazed if there wasn't, frankly.
How are things coming along with that Wolfenstein movie? I'm getting impatient, here...
*1 Oh, and hello to Jason Isaacs.
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.
