Logan (first-pass / SPOILER-FREE)
Cert: 15 / 137 mins / Dir. James Mangold / Trailer
Okay, the sunset glinting behind Adamantium claws on the poster may not be the most subtle of messages, but it's clear from the marketing-campaign for Logan that Fox wanted to make a very different type of movie this time. Gone are the pouting, dynamic, crowded montage shots and lens-flared logos; here's a tired old man and a single word in Helvetica Black. There'll be less fuss this time. And so, around thirty of the faithful gathered in Screen 1 for the midnight-mass of a simpler sermon*1.
And a different type of movie was, indeed, what we got. It's still very Wolverine™, but with far less of an X-Men feel (despite being inextricably linked and frequently referenced). James Mangold is at the helm again, and the film has more weight and consequence than his Samurai homage, and is far angrier than Origins as a result. The year is 2029*2 and mutants as we know them appear to be all but extinct. Logan is lying low in Mexico, growing old and sick himself while nursing a severely depleted Charles Xavier, who is now prone to seizures which are a danger to himself and everyone around him. And into their lives is thrust a young girl; scared, wild and a complete liability. Her past is a secret that Xavier and Wolverine will have to unlock if there's to be any hope for the future. To say more would be too much for this first-pass*3.
Hugh Jackman's on reliably strong form, lower on the quips this time around and higher on the actual drama. Similarly amplified is Patrick Stewart, adding more depth to his existing character whenever Xavier isn't 'medicated to a safe distance'. And I'd like to say that young Dafne Keen steals the show as Laura, but short of her action scenes (of which there are plenty), she ends up jostling for position with her co-leads. Don't get me wrong, she's great, but she isn't given the room to shine until later in the film (despite being the most furious thing in it from Act I).
And what Wolverine lacks in one-liners, he makes up for blade-work. As was noted in the trade papers around this time last year, lessons were learned from Deadpool in that you can make a comic-book movie ridiculously violent and still sell enough tickets to justify the exercise commercially. It's never lingering or too exploitative, but if you've wondered what it would look like to see a gang-member or mercenary have Adamantium claws skewering their heads? Look no further. Look no further many times, in fact. The film earns is 15-certificate in the first ten minutes and keeps it proudly on display thereafter. It's probably not unfair to say that this is the Wolverine movie fans have been waiting for, for the last seventeen years or so…
The business-end:
• Is there a Wilhelm Scream? …see below.
• Is there a Stan Lee cameo? No.
• Is there a mid-credits scene? No.
• Is there a post-credits scene? No.
I told you it was different…
Well y'know, Wolverine-type movies.
If you're going to see it at all, see it big.
I think so.
Although I'll be watching it again, just to check.
In this series, it may well be.
I shouldn't imagine so.
You know that thing when you see "AAIIEEE!" written in a comic-book and that's the speech-bubble equivalent of a Wilhelm Scream? Well it is, and that's in this film. So yes.
Level 2: This film's got that Richard E. Grant in it, and he was in that Withnail And I with Ralph 'Ric Olié' Brown…
*1 While an audience of around thirty doesn't sound like a lot (and indeed isn't), we can take comfort in the fact that it at least triples the footfall for last year's midnight-showing of Apocalypse, even if that was a turnout which the film kind of deserved. Also working in the film's favour tonight was Fox's scheduling-gimmick. This wasn't actually a midnight screening, but a one at twenty three minutes past ten. As in 10:23. As in X23, in reference to one of the characters in the film. Although by the time we'd enjoyed the requisite amount of adverts, trailers and adverts, it was more like X49, to be fair. Still, I mustn't grumble about being able to do my late-night cinema viewing at a slightly more sociable time. [ BACK ]
*2 There are self-driving cargo-containers in the 2029, but Logan's got an iPhone 6 and people are still vaping. Sometimes it's best not to question the future too intensely.
[ BACK ]
*3 Yes, unlike Apocalypse, I'm actually planning on seeing this again, at which point there will be spoiler-ific words. It's not like I'm sworn off Apocalypse, I just haven't bothered watching it since that first time. Waiting for the BluRay to come down to under a tenner, by which time I might have forgotten how problematic the film is… [ 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.
Okay, while I certainly haven't got the stamina to make a full-time thing of it, I do enjoy easing away from the mainstream with a bit of foreign-language cinema when I get the opportunity. You get a better class of punter intermittently looking at their phone, for one thing. Proof once again that audience-demographics are no guarantee of etiquette…
Toni Erdmann is a (mostly*1) German-language comedy about a father and daughter re-connecting after life spends several years getting in the way. Unsure where his life is heading after an unsteady reunion at his daughter Ines's birthday party, semi-retired music teacher Winfried decides to travel to Bucharest, where she's working as a hard-nosed consultant to for the energy industry. As his love of bad practical jokes and erratic sense of self-awareness (while in Romania, he invents an alternate-persona by the name of Toni Erdmann, a life-coach) begin to have an adverse impact on his daughter's professional life, they both have to take a look at the people they've become.
This is the kind of film, certainly the kind of story, I probably wouldn't bother with were it to be made with a British cast, as it would instantly turn into a twee-fest starring Jim Broadbent or Ricky Tomlinson or somesuch. Similarly, a US-version would almost certainly be unbearably mawkish, probably with Will Ferrell on-board. But the subtle discord of pan-European cultural references make this (for a British audience, at least) familiar yet off-kilter. It also helped immensely that this was the first time I'd really seen any of the cast, so it was easier for my brain to accept the characters as they're presented (rather than Jim Broadbent or Will Ferrell); startlingly real and startlingly flawed.
The comedy comes from a borderline grotesque-farce element, delivered with flawless deadpan execution, revolving around situations and general reactions, rather than critically-timed gags*2. Sandra Hüller leads effortlessly as the inwardly struggling Ines, countered and challenged perfectly by Peter Simonischek as her shambolic father, Winfried/Toni (think of a German Les Patterson on slightly better behaviour).
Toni Erdmann has peaks of being touching, being funny and being outright weird*3. Occasionally at the same time, but that's by no means the rule…
The League of Gentlemen, I reckon.
It'll hold your attention better on a large screen, but that's not essential.
…I think it does?
Couldn't tell you, although it's certainly a strong play.
Nope.
Nope.
Level 2: This film's got Trystan Pütter in it, and he was in that War Horse along with Pip 'Kaplan' Torrens and Toby 'Additional Voices In The Old Republic' Kebbell.
*1 The dialogue frequently drops into English when the plot/characters require it. Also, the corporate backdrop of the film also informed me that the German for 'team-spirit', 'partner-case' and 'comfort-zone' are apparently 'team-spirit', 'partner-case' and 'comfort-zone'. To think we tried so hard and for so long with Esperanto only for the international language of Business-Wankers to come in and pick up the reins… [ BACK ]
*2 Alas, subtitles are the enemy of the scripted-reveal or timed banter, making foreign-language comedies jump an extra hurdle in addition to the cultural ones. Thankfully, that's largely not an issue here. [ BACK ]
*3 The film was staying just on the right side of weird until one of the characters knocked one out onto a French Fancy. And you have no idea how much I wish I was joking about that. [ 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.
Fences Cert: 12A / 139 mins / Dir. Denzel Washington / Trailer
I finally saw the acclaimed Fences mere hours before the 2017 Academy Awards, where I hope/expect the film will get some recognition. After that, I trust I can go back to watching less-serious fare and no doubt moan about that instead? Well okay, then.
Based on August Wilson's play and adapted for the screen by the playwright himself before he died, Denzel Washington directs and stars in a film about Troy Maxson, a 50-something working man in 1950s Pittsburgh, having a midlife crisis when there's no-one around him to put that label on it. Troy's tale is told and revealed through the interactions with his borderline-dysfuntional family. An interweaving story of commitment, compassion, tolerance and resentment, above all else this is a family-drama in the truest sense, although it seems trite to categorise it as such. The audience isn't necessarily supposed to like everyone here, the aim is just to understand them. And that's where the performances take over from the writing.
Washington's turn is the strongest I've seen for a long time, Viola Davis' as his wife Rose is stronger. Also deserving of massive praise is Mykelti Williamson's heartbreaking performance as Troy's war-wounded brother, Gabe. Truth be told, this film doesn't put a foot wrong in terms of script-driven storytelling or acting prowess. Fences is an intimate yet broad portrayal of the stresses all families go through (although the Maxson's is particularly heightened), and while it's certainly Powerful™ in its delivery, I found it more Exhausting™ overall. In a good way I suppose, but still.
The first half alone is more dialogue-heavy than even the likes of Tarantino or Smith would dare to write, with Washington in particular barely pausing to draw breath until it's his turn to swig gin in the back yard*1. But whereas others would fill their scripts with triviality as a way of reflecting everyday banter, every single word matters in Fences, and the gaps between them matter even more. And it's this constant batting between character-history, narrative-driving and subtext which I found wearing. In a good way.
Not as heavy-going as you might expect, not as neatly-resolved as you might hope. But then, life rarely is.
Everything will be amplified by a cinema screen, but you shouldn't lose too much by watching this at home.
Absolutely.
It could well be, yes.
Depends on why we disagree, but I shouldn't think so.
There isn't. Amazingly.
Level 2: This film's got that Viola Davis in it, and she was in that Ender's Game with Harrison 'Solo' Ford.
*1 Really though, during the sequence between Troy, Bono and Lyons passing the gin around during a heated conversation, the level in that bottle is up and down between camera-angles in a way that suggests the swigging wasn't as scripted as the dialogue during those takes… [ 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.
After the adverts, trailers and more adverts have finished running, there's often a moment in the cinema where the whirring, motorised screen-edges widen, taking the aspect-ratio from 16:9(ish) to 2.35:1(ish). When this happens, my brain has one of three reactions. 1) This is as it should be, for the film I'm about to watch. 2) Well that's a pleasant surprise, considering the film I'm about to watch. 3) Get in, 33%(ish) more visible screen-death! There are no prizes for guessing which one of these crossed my mind before I read the BBFC-card for John Wick: Chapter 2…
Now it's not unfair to say that Chad Stahelski's sequel assumes (indeed, requires) that you enjoyed the first movie. In the first act at least, there's very little 'world building' going on and the film basically starts on 10 with a car-chase/shoot-up. A little more background is painted in later, but by then the adrenaline's been pumping so long that it doesn't matter how little sense the plot makes.
Still aggrieved about the can of worms he opened in the first movie*1, Chapter 2 sees retired hitman John owing someone a favour, trying to get out of that favour, repaying that favour and then wishing he hadn't bothered when everybody's trying to kill him. Who'd make an honour-deal with a criminal overlord, eh? Keanu Reeves does his best concerned-face as he relies on old friends and acquaintances to help him out, and the action moves to Italy for Artistic Reasons™ (although not permanently). Floating vibrantly through the air, plumes of blood gently redecorate the walls of Roman catacombs as their ballistic forebears percussively counter them by taking chunks out of the stonework. John Wick: Chapter 2 is a ballet of destruction, fully aware of its own preposterousness but never breaking its poker-face.
As predicted, Reeves' acting-chops don't get any better, but I'm not sure they can now. Luckily, this is one of the rare exceptions where his mahogany-esque acting only adds to the charm of the film. Peter Stormare hams up the opening exposition, Ian McShane returns to chew the scenery in the film's down-time, and there's also some fantastic over-acting from Laurence Fishburne (it's pretty great to see Neo and Morpheus back together again). It's genuinely like a bunch of old friends going 'don't worry Keanu, we've got your back'.
Although the first movie wasn't exactly a passive-aggressive note left on the office-fridge door, the sequel seems to have taken some lessons from Kingsmen as far as the dark-humour is concerned. I found myself cackling at some nameless henchman's demise on more than one occasion. And in terms of the wound-resistant, globe-trotting, anti-hero murderer archetype, the film wipes the floor with the likes of xXx. John Wick hasn't got time excruciating flirting when there are sharply-dressed gangsters that need despatching. The one-hit kills of lesser movies are nowhere to be seen, as Wick double-taps his way through each set-piece, a spray of claret emitting from each insurance shot. Gloriously irresponsible, it's the cinematic equivalent of four pints of diesel and a round of tequila slammers on a Tuesday night.
If you enjoy John Wick: Chapter 2 for no other reason, spare a thought for cinematographer Dan Laustsen, tasked with setting up a prolonged climactic shootout*2 in a maze of revolving mirrors, while ensuring the audience don't see the cameras. Outstanding work, sir…
*1 The first flick saw 84 people buying the farm because some hoodlums killed John's dog. The sequel features 128 people carking it because a photo of John's now-dead wife got burned. At this rate, John Wick Chapter 3 will be Keanu Reeves murdering 250 gangsters because one of them left the milk out on the side before going to work… [ BACK ]
*2 At the point where John gets given a pistol and seven rounds (one for each million-dollars making up the price on his head), I thought 'Oh, is the film about to go a bit Deadpool and show us how economical a killing machine the man can be? Is he really going to get through the finale of the film firing only seven shots?. The film then answered this by essentially saying "Ha-hah, is he fuck". John uses all the rounds on the first foot-soldier he comes across before taking that guy's gun and escalating from there. Restraint? Not in this screenplay, sunshine. [ BACK ]
*3 For reasons best-known only to myself two years ago, I marked the first movie at 5 out of 7, despite having only good things to say about it and nothing but fond memories since. Perhaps I was judging it against the more earnest action-movies which it's clearly not trying to be. Oddly enough, a work-colleague of mine told me last week he'd gone to watch John Wick for the first time in anticipation of the new movie, but gave up after twenty minutes because of the atrocious acting. Whichever way, I marked it 5 so I must have been feeling that at the time. And while it's hard for me to say that Chapter 2 is a "better" film, it's definitely a 6, so there we go. Make of that what you will.[ 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.
The A-word.
It's the bane of cinephiles, everywhere.
That book you love; the comic you remember; the show you used to watch; the game you lost an entire summer playing? Oh, someone's adapted it and it's getting made into a movie! Whether a cause for pre-emptive celebration or foreboding caution, it leads to only one thing: expectation. And expectation is the death of the 'clean' movie-viewing experience; no matter how closely the film sticks to its source material, or how much it tries to distance itself, it will be faced with the hurdle of comparison.
And while the movie industry loves the pre-built marketing buzz of 'now a major motion picture!', they loathe the comparative references which will be made from the first review onwards. Because many punters will expect to get exactly the same reaction from a completely different medium, to a story they already know. And therein lies the problem.
In this monthly series, we'll look back at some of the most respected and best-loved properties which have made the perilous journey to the big screen; often with some controversy, and almost always with far too much hype. This isn't so much a review of the films themselves, more an appraisal of their suitability as an adaptation.
As initially feared, the problem I had with WCRIFYW is that I've seen the (first) subsequent movie a fair few times, but haven't read the book. So my brain had to overcome the hurdle of retcon-adaptation. Now, after Minority Report I wasn't expecting to read a detailed screenplay, but Dick's short story (23 pages in the edition I have) is barely even the idea of what it later became on-screen, let alone a compacted version of it.
But I'm here for what is written, not what I think should be. The story centres around one Douglas Quail, a low-level office worker who can't afford a trip to Mars (which, in the context of the book isn't yet fully colonised, so is only populated by government-types or the extremely wealthy), so pays a visit to Rekal Incporated, and then pays an extortionate amount of cash for the memory of being a secret-agent there. So far, so good. The implant doesn't fully take, however, when the laboratory staff discover the memory they're trying to insert is of events which actually happened to Quail, and have been subsequently wiped. All hell breaks loose, Doug is very confused and nobody actually goes to Mars (within the duration of this story, at least). In fact, the entire narrative basically occurs in two locations, albeit back and forth between Doug's flat and Rekal Inc. And the taxi which ferries Doug around, if you want to make it three.
As with the last tale of Dick's I did, this is still accessible enough for the average non sci-fi reader, even if it's perhaps a little too 'presented'. Not so much "here's an intriguing story to make you think about perception and the validity of human recollection", but more "here's a novella crunched down so tightly that I can't focus on the central conceit of the story and have you finished with it yet I haven't got all day you know come on hurry up hurry up".
The golden rule of 'show, don't tell' is disregarded almost completely as characters explain to each other what's happened in Doug's life (I assure you this matters just as much on paper as it does on-screen), and the plot device of a previously undisclosed telepathy implant only makes this more obvious. It's never badly written in itself, but feels like Dick got bored of the story he initially set out to write when he was only halfway through. That said, at least our Phil takes the time to mention that the receptionist at Rekal is topless. Twice. So it's not like he's paying no attention to his own universe. Oh, and in this future-Earth, I noted that we can ostensibly settle on Mars, but Quail spends one moment in the book looking for carbon-paper for his typewriter. Ah, the curse of speculative fiction…
Anyway, when I said that Minority Report was crying out for expansion, it turns out I didn't know the half of it. Not unlike Douglas Quail, in that respect...
It may have a date-stamp of 1990 on the outside, but rest assured that Paul Verhoeven's Total Recall is a towering monument to the late 80s. The Dutch director's own version of future-noir is implemented through constant paranoia and garish consumerism, and borrows thematically from his work in 1987's Robocop. The opening titles feature an "Inspired by" card, rather than the more direct 'based on', making some concession to the fact that you'd be unable to fashion an entire film out of the 1966 story. That said, Total Recall opens with Arnold Schwarzenegger's Doug (Quaid this time, rather than the original's Quail) dreaming about Mars, with his wife Lori trying to brush aside his growing obsession with the planet (expertly played here by Sharon Stone). As the movie quickly adds on Doug's nagging mistrust of his wife and his paranoia blurring the perception of what's even real, this becomes a pretty solid expansion of what was written over twenty years earlier. Arguably moreso than Philip K Dick managed.
After this setup of course, the film branches out into its own story and sub-plots. And in the context of An Arnold Schwarzenegger Sci-fi Movie Featuring Michael Ironside And Ronny Cox As Bad Guys™, it's more than acceptable.
Credit where it's due (and I admit I've been overly snarky about this film in the past), Total Recall has a vision that's way broader than the original story. It's just happens to be a vision which is an action-adventure, since the film is incapable of being any kind of cerebral conundrum while Verhoeven's at the helm. Schwarzenegger pretty much plays himself of course, being at once both the saviour and nemesis of the film. And sure, the model/prosthetics work on display has aged about as well as the vision of future society, but it all adds to the charm. Not to be outdone by Dick's aforementioned typewriter, we can establish a mining colony on Mars here, but all the computers have external flashy lights and CRT monitors. I cannot wait for the future, I've still got a 14" portable TV upstairs. That said, the tactless editing-in of stunt-double shots during the fight scenes is sadly timeless, yet ironically gets worse every time I watch this.
Best dialogue exchange:
Melina: Where'd this reactor come from?
Quaid: Aliens built it.
[the subject is then changed]
But, perhaps most importantly from a storytelling point of view, this is a movie about a secret agent who goes to Mars, and which features a secret agent who goes to Mars. Given the scope of the original story, I think we shouldn't lose sight of that. Although only an actioner of this pedigree would feature two hit-men watching their quarry get into a taxi, and then have them get out of their own car to pursue on foot…
And when even Paul Verhoeven makes sure the receptionist's got her top on, you know your source-text has issues…*1
A different year, a different approach. 2012 saw Underworld director Len Wiseman trying his hand at revitalising WCRIFYH for a new generation of moviegoers, still under Sony's watchful eye (Tristar produced the Arnie flick, Columbia managed this one). Despite its lukewarm reception, the film still takes a decent stab at adapting and expanding Dick's original story and like its predecessor quickly becomes its own thing (although like its predecessor, that's because it has to).
No-one travels to Mars in this version of the tale, indeed the planet is only even mentioned in the script-equivalent of a cameo appearance. If there's a stand-in for interplanetary travel here, it's the daily commute from Australia to the South-East of England*2.
A short series of film-opening captions brings the audience up to speed with the world we're stepping into. The aesthetic this time around is far more post-apocalyptic cyberpunk, and the film is looks closer to Ridley Scott's vision for Blade Runner, albeit with the pacing and stunt-work of Minority Report. This is definitely closer to an action-movie than a sci-fi one, although the film's seven (seven!) writers take the time to quote and reference the original book as much as they do Paul Verhoeven's interpretation of it.
Character-names tend to stay close to the previous movie, with Doug Quaid being surrounded by wife Lori, accomplice Melina, and Harry, McClane and Cohaagen*3. In terms of the quality of the film itself, I still largely stand by the words I wrote upon its release in 2012. A decent enough movie which turns into an extended chase-sequence in lieu of story-development. Although it's neither the first nor last film to be made in that category.
Was this what Philip K Dick had in mind for We Can Remember It For You Wholesale? I shouldn't imagine so. But Len Wiseman's version has narratively-irrelevant boobies in it as well, so I'm sure he'd have signed it off…
Well, it's good in a 'sketched out on the back of a beermat to be expanded once I'm back in my study and the hangover's gone providing I don't forget all about the beermat in my pocket and just start working on something else' sort of a way, yeah.
Both Total Recall adaptations are solid expansions of the initial premise, and both in ways which reflect the times they were made in.
The two movies themselves definitely bear comparison, but you probably wouldn't lose too much by skipping the book (not that you'd need much time to read it anyway).
Didn't hear one in either movie and no-one was quoted as saying "AIE-E-E-E!" in the written version.
*1 Although that apparent act of cinematic chivalry is undone once the action moves to Mars, of course. And if anything, it back-pedals by 150%… [BACK ]
*2 Okay, I know I touched on this in my full review of the film, but my estimate of 2,000 miles per hour was way off. I missed it first time around, but it's actually stated in the script that the journey from England to Australia known as The Drop™ will take 17 minutes. Now, the diameter of the planet is 7917 miles. Which means that the drop-shuttle has to travel, on average, at a speed of 27,942 miles per hour. That's a cylindrical object which is pretty much flat at each end, shooting through a tube which doesn't appear to allow for wind-resistance (terminal velocity's not going to help with that shape or the required speed). So, in the future, it's more efficient to build and operate a machine that's capable of reaching almost 28,000 miles per hour within the Earth's atmosphere and gravity (and there's apparently only one of these vessels in operation, remember), than it is to just build labourers some slum housing underneath the factory they all work in. Assuming the passengers would even survive the journey. Apparently. Glad we got that straight. [BACK ]
*3 Incidentally, the hero's alter-ego carries the same moniker here, too. In both movie versions, he goes by the names Douglas Quaid and Carl Hauser. Which suggests that if you were to smash his two personalities together in the Large Screenplay Collider™, you'd get Dougie Hauser… [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.
