Well, you know you've had a challenging day at the flicks when you're pinning your hopes of a smile on a Warner Bros comedy about an absentee sperm-donor...
Twin brothers Peter and Kyle Reynolds (Ed Helms and Owen Wilson, and before you ask - no, their completely differing looks aren't the punchline for a single joke in here. Twins don't have to be identical of course, but it's almost as if one of them was second-choice casting after the script had been completed). I'll start again...
Twin brothers Peter and Kyle Reynolds are both nominally successful in their chosen fields as a proctologist and the branding-face of a barbecue sauce respectively, but both have a midlife crisis on the horizon. This is accelerated when their mother Helen (Glenn Close) lets slip that their estranged father isn't the man she always said he was. Now, the two have to overcome their superficial differences to venture on a cross-country road trip and track down their real, biological dad. Hilarity ensues. Or at least I imagine those were the final two words of the pitch that secured funding for this to be made.
My laundry-list of complaints with Father Figures is lengthy, broad and simultaneously petty, but I'll try to keep this brief. First and foremost, it's actually amazing - considering their genre-history - that two established comic actors such as Helms and Wilson share absolutely no chemistry on-screen. Their characters have been written to be diametrically opposite at the beginning of the film, but there's little-to-no closure of the gap as it wears on. The road trip formula provides the pace and changing scenery required to drive (no pun intended) a movie of this type forward, but it lacks the sincerity to be either moving or funny, both of which it's clearly aiming for.
The whole thing is just so slack, as if the string of setpieces have been penned by a different writers who have never met, or been given character outlines*1. The twists in each strand are so telegraphed that the film may as well include a synopsis in the opening titles, and the gags use lowest common denominator humour (to be expected), but delivered by a cast who are at least 25 years too old to be doing so with any level of confidence. While (despite the best efforts of writer Justin Malen) the film never quite crosses the line into hateful territory, it's oddly bereft of atmosphere, zest or flow. Like a dress-rehearsal for blocking and lighting purposes, but where the cast assume that the cameras aren't rolling.
Naturally, all of this builds to a sentimental crescendo and closing moral-message which the film has not earned in any way whatsoever. It's by no means the most ill-judged movie I've watched in recent memory, but Father Figures fundamentally fails in its remit as a comedy. Although what can we really expect from a screenplay which uses special needs, incest and colon cancer as throwaway punchlines?
To be fair, one patron found the movie consistently and vociferously funny. Then they packed up their vast collection of snacks and left fifteen minutes before the end, not to return.
Even the fans of Father Figures fucking hate Father Figures...
Imagine a car crash involving a gender-flipped Mamma Mia! and Identity Thief, except worse than that sounds.
No.
Stream in haste; repent at leisure.
It's not.
Well I'd be delighted to hear your opinions about the film, put it that way.
There isn't.
Level 2: Well this film's got that Ving Rhames in it, and he was in that Pulp Fiction alongside Sam 'Mace Windu' Jackson, Bronagh 'Maoi Madakor' Gallagher and Phil 'Rebels Bail Organa' LaMarr.
*1 Most telling dialogue exchange: "Hey, at least buy me dinner first, next time!" quips Peter's patient at his proctology clinic. "That's really funny, I've never heard that one before" he deadpans back. But the jaded medical professional does this 30 seconds after saying "Well, the good news is I've found your car keys in here!", which one assumes he uses at least six times a day, pretty much negating any criticism of clichéd responses. It's this sort of glaringly inconsistent characterisation which further embarrasses a cast who appear to plotting how to get the film removed from the IMDB while it's still being made... [ 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.
Well, this was the second Focus Features / Universal piece of the day, and the second to have a god-awful, pretentious perfume advert bolted on before the BBFC card. So there I was in Kensington on a Saturday afternoon watching a Paul Thomas Anderson film, surrounded by exactly the sort of patrons you'd expect to find in Kensington on a Saturday afternoon watching a Paul Thomas Anderson film. Can you tell where this review is going yet?
In fairness, I'd taken a gamble, as the trailer for Phantom Thread didn't exactly excite me and it took me less than ten minutes to figure out that the next two hours were going to feel more like three and a half. This is the tale of an eccentrically fastidious designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis), running a high-end London fashion house with his spinster sister Cyril (Lesley Manville), when he happens across a naive young waitress, Alma (Vicky Krieps), who becomes his new muse and obsession. But beauty is a cruel and restless mistress and happiness is the enemy of creativity, thus their relationship begins to create tensions in the house.
This is, as you might imagine, a meticulously assembled film, with every detail in every frame, every thread in every garment, every word and pause of every line all exactly where they're meant to be. Paul Thomas Anderson's glee in highlighting Woodcock's haughty attitude to order is the Ouroboros at the heart of Phantom Thread. It's just a shame I found almost everyone in it to be so irritating, so often.
Of course, your lead character doesn't have to be likeable to be compelling, but Reynolds Woodcock is purposefully infuriating. The well-heeled audience chuckled and guffawed along gamely throughout every awkward moment, their amusement overpowered in my head by a chorus of alarm-bells clanging at a protagonist who is essentially a sociopathic sex-pest in crimson knee-socks. We're not supposed to admire Woodcock, but I also think it's a push to laugh along dismissively at his worst excesses. You really need to make the decision beforehand as to whether you're prepared to spend two hours in his intimate company.
Outside of the characters, this is a fine-looking piece of work but it's furiously over-produced. It's additionally over-soundtracked to the point where it feels like a string quartet are sitting in the corner, determined to drown out the brittle exchanges of dialogue. At one point, a party scene features almost everyone in a function-hall singing a full round of Auld Lang Syne. The film score continues playing a completely different piece of music over this.
Day-Lewis and Manville are great, they're just great at playing irredeemably awful people. Thankfully, Krieps is able to bring more texture to Alma, although her character is no less challenging. But fair play to the latter, I never thought I'd see someone pour a glass of water so sarcastically.
It's not that I found nothing to enjoy in Paul Thomas Anderson's celebration of 'artistic temperament', but the amount of work I had to put into watching it felt over and above anything that I got back out. Phantom Thread is a film which has almost been committee-designed to annoy me. And in that regard, it's a resounding success.
Unfortunately, my viewing-schedule for the day didn't allow me to hang around for the post-credits scene. I'll just assume it was a teaser lead-in for Attack of the Clothes and/or Revenge Of The Stitch*1…
Let's be honest, 'all the sort of films I don't usually watch'.
If it's your sort of thing, I imagine it probably is.
Well, if it's your sort of thing you'll have already pre-ordered the 4K version to sit and stroke your chin along to, I imagine.
Wrong person to ask, I'm afraid.
That's entirely possible.
There isn't.
Level 2: Leslie Manville is in this, and she starred in 2009's A Christmas Carol alongside Fionnula 'Catarine Towani' Flanagan.
*1 Oh mate, I'm not even sorry for that one… [ 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.
To That London now, and the slightly sniffy suburb of Kensington to watch Greta Gerwig's directorial debut, Lady Bird.
Beginning in Sacramento, California in 2002, the film follows high-schooler Christine (Saoirse Ronan), who is in the process of reinventing herself as 'Lady Bird', while trying to get accepted in a college far away from the city she feels she's outgrown, but also trying desperately to find her place while she's still there. It's a wonderful story of how everything is a right old fucking drama when you're a teenager, around half of it justifiably so. Scenes ensue.
Taking place over the course of about a year, Gerwig's screenplay is more a threaded series of vignettes than an outright coming-of-age tale. The focus here is on character and performance rather than narrative, and while this is a dedicated, affectionate work, my enjoyment was more limited to technical appreciation, smiles and laughs than forming any real, emotional connection. Then again, this is my stumbling block, not the film's, as it's clearly a very personal piece for its writer/director.
Preparing to leave a staunch Catholic school, Christine is at the point where stealing a jar of communion wafers to idly eat as snacks with her best friend isn't intended as an act of rebellion, just restless boredom; frustration at the imminent realisation that the thing actually holding Lady Bird back is probably going to be herself. Ronan is fantastic of course, although she's rarely anything but*1. Laurie Metcalf delivers a brittle, complex performance as Christine's embattled mum, and of all the relationships we see with the youngster's contemporaries, Lucas Hedges' Danny was the one I wanted more screen-development of. But in that regard, the movie is uncannily lifelike - lots of emotive noise threatening to drown out the things we should really be focusing on.
I enjoyed Lady Bird, I just didn't love it. Then again, this is a cultural snapshot of things I have no real frame of reference for, so that's not entirely surprising. But at the same time, I'd watch Saoirse Ronan reading the Yellow Pages for two hours, so…
Probably a buy-er, but maybe not on the day of release if that makes sense.
With the best will in the world, I don't think so.
Unlikely.
There isn't.
Level 2: This film's got Saoirse Ronan in it, who was in Atonement along with Keira 'Sabé' Knightley, Harriet 'Kalonia' Walter and Daniel 'Tivik' Mays.
*1 ...I won't mention the Ed She*ran video if you don't, okay? [ 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.
Game Night Cert: 15 / 100 mins / Dir. John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein / Trailer
Now obviously, trailers notwithstanding, the audience's initial frame of mind before the movie even begins is in no way, shape or form the fault of Game Night screenwriter Mark Perez, directors John Daley and Jonathan Goldstein, nor indeed the plentiful cast. So, as the Cineworld Unlimited faithful were gathered for the latest advance screening to which they'd been invited, the patron to my immediate left waited until the point in the trailer for Wes Anderson's Isle of Dogs where the names of a lot of famous people are listed on-screen for doing the voices. They then observed loudly "Oh, they've got a lot of famous people doing the voices for that!". What I'm saying here is that I tried to give Game Night a fair crack of the whip, but may not have been quite as receptive to A Good Time as the rest of the crowd*1. This, I thought to myself, is going to be a long night. And so it proved.
So. Super-competitive suburban couple Annie (Rachel McAdams) and Max (Jason Bateman) host regular game-nights at their house with a group of friends, playing everything from charades to board-games. But when Max's high rolling investment-trader brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) arrives one evening, he soon devises an idea to raise the stakes, and arranges an interactive role-playing experience in which one of the players will be kidnapped while the rest have to track them down. It's here that Brooks's shady private life catches up with him and the lines between gaming and gangsters become dangerously blurred. But by this point, the players have little choice...
So by now you'll be thinking Oh, so is 'Game Night' like David Fincher's 1997 movie 'The Game', but played more for laughs? Yes, frankly. There's the feeling watching the trailer that it can't quite work out what it wants to be, action-comedy or character-led, dynamic thriller. And in that respect, the trailer is a very fitting representation of the final film. From the off, it becomes clear that everyone's trying slightly too hard, here. But with a cast headed by seasoned performers such as McAdams and Bateman, this feels like it could be more the result of over-direction than flat-out overacting.
That's not to say there isn't fun to be had in the meanwhile, however. The action and comedy setpieces work well in and of themselves (with many laugh-out-loud moments), there's just slightly too much plot, too many sub-plots and too many inevitable twists for the already-weighty run-time, bludgeoning the audience into not thinking too hard about anything. It would also be a much smoother (not to mention shorter) ride without the weapons-grade application of film references*2 and characters constantly stopping to point out the punchlines*3.
Our players never give the less than their full attention, but Game Night feels like it's been cast entirely with supporting-actors, even though McAdams and Bateman should be (and have been) above that level by now. I suppose I should just be grateful that the whole thing isn't being headed by Will Ferrell and Amy Poehler. Within the first ten minutes, Annie and Max's surly, withdrawn, policeman neighbour, Gary (Jesse Plemons), feels like a joke which is going to wear thin very quickly, but actually turns out to be one of the most restrained and consistently funny high-points of the whole affair.
Interestingly uneven, Game Night is an amusing time-passer which certainly beats sitting round the backgammon board for the evening. But in terms of real skill and excitement, Daley and Goldstein are still trying to understand the rulebook…
The Game, Date Night.
I mean it's basically that.
Not unless it's raining and you've got a couple of hours to kill.
Entertaining as this is, rewatch-value will be low; stream/rent.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
Level 2: This film stars Sharon Horgan who was in that Man Up, as was Simon 'Plutt' Pegg, Harriet 'Kalonia' Walter and Phoebe 'L3-37' Waller-Bridge.
*1 And not to get too far ahead of myself, but boy did I know that they enjoyed it. I mean I quite enjoyed it too, but when the adorementioed patron bellowed with laughter every single time someone fell over (that's quite a lot), it's difficult not to resent the film for going so low, so often. But hey, I'm here to judge the movie not the audience, right? Haha. Right. [ BACK ]
*2 At one point, Annie brandishes a handgun in a bar, directly quoting the entire "If any of you fucking pricks move..." line from Pulp Fiction. Max immediately follows this up with "Haha yeah, a bit of Pulp Fiction there for you!". As if a) the people who remember Pulp Fiction hadn't noticed, and b) this will then become funny to anyone who hasn't seen Pulp Fiction and therefore has no reference point for the gag. On top of this there are many other heavy-handed (although some reasonably subtle) references to movies from across the years. Like, 'fan-film' many. You don't have to convince us you're a film geek, Mark Perez - you're writing screenplays for a living now, we'll sort of assume that to be the case... [ BACK ]
*3 Using the same gun, Annie accidentally shoots Max in the arm (this is in the trailer). After a moment of realisation, including a lengthy framing of the bullet wound, Annie then shrilly exclaims "Oh no, I can't believe I shot you!". Oh, is that what happened there? Thanks for pointing it out. [ 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.
Black Panther (first-pass / 2D / spoiler-free)
Cert: 12A / 134 mins / Dir. Ryan Coogler / Trailer
There's little doubt about it, 2018 is a busy time to be a geek. The dust has barely settled on Star Wars: The Last Jedi and while Lucasfilm begins (finally) to ramp up publicity for May's Solo outing, their Disney stablemates Marvel Studios are ready to strike with the first prong of the year's theatrical trident. Yes, February sees the hotly-anticipated debut feature of Black Panther.
Based on the 1966 comic hero created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, the character made his first Marvel Cinematic Universe appearance in 2016's Captain America: Civil War. As the prince of the technologically advanced but isolationist African nation Wakanda, T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman) saw his father murdered in a terrorist attack masterminded by Hydra during the Sokovia Accords conference in Vienna. Already routinely donning the anonymous Black Panther outfit to protect the interests of his people both home and abroad, T'Challa was suddenly handed the responsibility of being their public-facing king, too.
With the aid of a prelude scene taking place in Oakland, California in 1992 (before returning to the 'present day' setting), this is where co-writer Joe Robert Cole and writer/director Ryan Coogler pick up the thread. Recurring Marvel antagonist Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis) has hatched a plot with Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) to take control of Wakanda and exploit its vibranium resources. T'Challa, barely ready to lead his people let alone defend them from a threat this egregious, will have his work cut out. Perhaps luckily then, our hero has help from his tech-guru sister, Shuri (Letitia Wright), leader of the clan's army, Okoye (Danai Gurira) and warrior and old flame, Nakia (Lupita Nyong'o).
Now, it's probably not unfair to say that throughout the movies of the MCU, the standalone, 'in-between' chapters are more interesting than the climactic Avengers ensembles. But even in a great year like 2017, two of Marvel's entries to the canon were sequels and the third was an in-universe reboot. The general critical consensus came to be that a little variety wouldn't be a bad thing.
From a sociopolitical standpoint, a headlining hero like T'Challa is long overdue, of course. But there's still the feeling that this particular film about a character largely unknown to 'civilian' audiences wouldn't have been made at all were it not for the confidence imbued in Marvel Studios from the success of Doctor Strange and Ant-Man, two other 'fringe' characters made palatable by strong casting and snappy dialogue. Although even with these earlier stories, the structure itself was more than a little familiar (Doctor Strange is basically a retooled Iron Man, while the same goes for Ant-Man and Captain America: The First Avenger).
So what's needed to push the franchise forward is a tale of relatable characters with realistic concerns, in a setting familiar enough to feel natural, but unusual enough to allow for the more fantastical elements of the story. And in this regard, Ryan Coogler delivers masterfully. Black Panther is an intelligent movie which doesn't sport a superiority complex, it's intense without morosity, it's fun without feeling silly. Outstanding work.
T'Challa's character is mentally sharp, but with neither the genius nor arrogance of Tony Stark or Steven Strange. And while he has faith in his physical abilities, this never spills over into the outright brashness of Captain America, Thor or Hulk. Black Panther is merely a costume, a mantle; T'Challa is the focus, and he succeeds because of those who stand by his side. While the movie may bear the Black Panther's name, all heroes are equal here.
Chadwick Boseman gives a fantastic, thoughtful performance centre-stage, but it's the ladies who really steal the show, for two reasons. Firstly, T'Challa's nature is largely stoical, with hints of reticence when it comes to making the big decisions placed at his feet. Shuri, Okoye and Nakia however, are far more gregarious and focused when it comes to combat. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, Black Panther wears a mask/helmet to fight; the ladies don't. As a result, Wright, Gurira and Nyong'o can be far more expressive throughout, leading a fantastic cast including spirited performances from Angela Bassett, Forest Whitaker and Daniel Kaluuya. Martin Freeman is also in the film.
The neatest part of course, is that Black Panther instantly feels like it's a part of the larger Marvel universe, and not just by means of the returning characters and plot-references. The production-team have the tonal quality of the MCU honed completely by this point so we'd expect little else, but throughout the 134 minutes, there's the feeling that these characters belong firmly in the timeline and we're just surprised we haven't met them before now. The knowledge that some of them will be returning in the upcoming Avengers: Infinity War is welcome, indeed.
Black Panther is Marvel Studios playing another strong hand. The film doesn't necessarily leave the viewer with the same hyperactive buzz as Thor: Ragnarok or Spider-Man: Homecoming, but then it has far more thematic plates to spin. And as usual for this sort of thing, there's far more for the MCU-fan to take in than can be gleaned from the first sitting.
Not that you'll need a reason to watch this more than once…
The business-end:
• Is there a Wilhelm Scream? I'm not sure...
• Is there a Stan Lee cameo? There is.
• Is there a mid-credits scene? There is.
• Is there a post-credits scene? There is.
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.
