Imagine being a set-hand on Brian Henson's The Happytime Murders. You're pretty low down the ladder but it's your first job on an actual movie and you're just excited to be there. This is where the magic happens. It's Tuesday and a scene is being filmed where two Muppets™-style puppets are noisily having sex in an office with a frosted-glass door and windows. The police are talking to a secretary (played by Maya Rudolph) outside the office, who's acting as if everything's normal. The male puppet 'pulls out' and, while the audience don't see his penis, he proceeds to ejaculate all over the office. This takes the form of silly-string, which is effectively a visual punchline to the joke. It's funny because they're puppets.
But this is a gross-out comedy from (among others) H.Brothers, starring Melissa McCarthy, and the audience have expectations. So the ejaculation continues. The people working on the set (yourself included) can imagine the tears of hilarity running down the faces of the audience as they watch this. But that's not enough. Director Brian Henson wants his cast to ad-lib their lines, looking for that elusive off-the-cuff comedy gold which often can't be captured in the writers-room. As set-hand, it's your job to clean the office-interior set so the crew can run again. And so they do. Noisy sex noises and silly-string resume. This means that in the new take, the distinct pattern sprayed on the door and windows will be noticeably different when edited into the original shot as one continuous sequence, but the director is sure this won't be noticed by the crowd having a good time on a Friday night. It's all good.
Then Brian wants to go again. To get more quality improvisation. Clean the windows, clean the door, sit back down. Action. Screaming, ejaculation, a different array of puppet jizz. That wasn't enough. Let's do one more take. Wiping, action, screaming, jizz. No, again. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Again. Again? Surely the comedy-well has to be dry by now? Surely these shots can't be intercut with the broken continuity of the silly-string jizz? Yes they can. Again. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Wipe. Action. Scream. Jizz. Everyone on-set is finding this hilarious. You see, it's funny because they're puppets. That may look like silly-string, but in the final movie it'll be jizz. Jizz is funny. Puppet-jizz is hilarious. Brian isn't quite happy with that last take. He thinks we could get more. You reach for your cloth.
You're just glad to be working in the film industry.
Your family are so proud your dream's come true.
You'll screenshot your name in the credits to go on Facebook.
Anyway, I went to watch The Happytime Murders, the comedically tone-deaf movie that can't tell the difference between a punchline and a profanity! The film which takes an interesting concept then grinds it straight down to the lowest common denominator of dick-jokes and witless improv. The USP - of humans and puppets interacting in a straight plot-driven story, with the difference between them noted and worked into the script as social segregation - is largely abandoned after ten minutes when everyone realises it's just easier to hope for a laugh by swearing. The first punchline of the movie is "well fuck you". Melissa McCarthy's first line contains the word "fuck", her last contains "asshole". The film's not a particularly great pastiche on either the buddy-cop nor film noir-genres, and has nothing else to say in the meanwhile*1.
Credit where it's due though - the puppeteering itself is pretty great. From the very first scene, I had no trouble at all in buying the felt denizens as their own separate characters. They're just characters who are as annoying as the ones played by humans.
Still, it's always nice to see Melissa McCarthy outmatched in terms of comic timing by a puppet.
Imagine putting the "asshole says what" joke into your 15-rated movie, in 2018. Imagine putting the "asshole says what" joke into your movie twice, because you want the second one to act as a callback, like you invented it. Then imagine having one of your characters stopping to explain the "asshole says what" joke.
Imagine looking in the mirror every day and seeing Brian Henson.
*1 Typical scene-ending punchlines include: "Fuck you" (yes, again), "You bit my dick" and "First time I've knocked a guy out with his balls". I don't want to come off as a prude, here. I'm not. My own language is generally quite horrific in relaxed company, as is my sense of humour. But swearing isn't the same as wit. The general level here is just bad writing and/or bad improv. Still, the crowds like it, I suppose? Well, not the crowd in my Friday screening, there were five of us. But it's been out since Monday so I imagine it was packed until Thursday. [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Alpha (2D)
Cert: 12A / 96 mins / Dir. Albert Hughes / Trailer
Well, if there's one good thing to come out of Albert Hughes' boy-meets-dog adventure Alpha, it's that we've finally unlocked the secret to preventing Sony from cramming their movies with retail-product placement. Okay, that secret involves setting the story approximately 20,000 years in the past, but if that's what it takes...
Anyway. Imagine the digitally enhanced filmscape of Life of Pi but with minimal dialogue and any sense of broader metaphor stripped away, and you'll get a good idea of what Alpha feels like. Separated from his ice-age tribe, young Keda (Kodi Smit-McPhee) has to journey home across the tundra, befriending an injured wolf along the way, which turns out to be the beginning of mankind's relationship with dogs*1. It's not quite as sentimental as one might imagine, but it's not quite as satisfying either.
Credit where it's due, there's some stunning scenery on display here. But the film's visual excesses play their hand early on, after which the audience is never sure whether they're appreciating the work of the cinematographer or the visual effects teams. There's no reason why these can't work hand-in-hand of course, but sections of Alpha are so heavily CGId that you'd wonder why they didn't just save time by animating the movie in its entirety.
Similarly, Kodi Smit-McPhee doesn't feel quite right in the leading role as the tribal chieftan's callow son. He puts in a good turn and is naturally suited to the characteristics, but it's like the part itself hasn't been finalised on the page, so he'll never be able to nail it. Again, a CGI (or better still, anime) story would have skipped straight over this.
But the core of the film is the relationship between Keda and his rescued companion, Alpha. At only 96 minutes including the setup-time, this never really gets deep on an emotional level, and some of the more enhanced shots of our canine friend make it look like a different animal altogether (still a wolf, just a completely different one). But the isolation of the pair at least allows for uninterrupted development, even if the film's convenient invention of pull-toys and the game of fetch feels a little on the nose.
Overall, Alpha is an interesting idea, unevenly executed. It's a shame the film's technical ambitions aren't matched by its narrative ones, and that none of it really holds together as a result. I suspect that both director Hughes and screenwriter Daniele Sebastian Wiedenhaupt had greater ambitions for the project, which got sanded down or lost on the long, arduous journey to the screen…
The last five minutes are good though, because dogs are awesome.
Not particularly, although it'll look nowhere near as impressive on your TV.
You'll probably only get one watch out of this; stream it.
I'm taking a point off for Morgan Freeman's opening and closing narration.
Completely unnecessary, thoroughly phoned-in and the easiest 15 minutes work he's ever banked a cheque for, the lazy hack.
What's worse, without this, the film would have no real dialogue (the language spoken by the characters was created specifically for the production and is subtitled on-screen), so could be enjoyed by hearing-impaired audiences without the need to wait for a fully-subtitled performance, being effectively 'on the same level' in terms of understanding the speech. This is still the case since Freeman's bookends add literally nothing to the movie, but without it this could have been a marketing tool in the film's favour.
Probably.
Nope.
Level 2: Kodi Smit-McPhee is in this, and he was in that X-Men: Apocalypse with Rose 'Dormé' Byrne and Oscar 'Dameron' Isaac.
*1 Okay, it was Keda who injured the wolf in the first place, but that's not the point. If they'd framed Alpha as the prehistoric origins of Stockholm Syndrome, it might have been even more difficult to market... [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Disclaimer: I made the rookie error of assuming a film titled "The Children Act" would actually be about The Children Act. That it isn't, has caused me no small level of consternation and probably goes some way to accounting for my mood as the runtime increased. Anyway, here are my opinions on what the film isn't…
I'd thought that August was a bit early in the season for awards-bait, then as The Children Act - a film where a judge has to rule over a case where Jehovah's Witness parents are fighting for their right to withhold a hospital's recommendation of a blood transfusion for their son with leukaemia (who, incidentally, is also refusing treatment) - went on without managing to ask any difficult questions, I realised it's probably out now because it's not really a contender for any gongs.
Emma Thompson stars as the Fiona Maye, the put-upon judge, with Stanley Tucci as her dissatisfied husband Jack. Fionn Whitehead plays Adam Henry, the 17yr old to which the titular legislation applies, with Ben Chaplin and Eileen Walsh as his devout parents. The film also features appearances from pretty much everyone you'd expect from a production with Nina Gold in the casting-director's chair (although no Bill Nighy, this time).
But it's Emma Thompson everyone's come to see, and Judge Maye is the dramatic pivot around which everything revolves.
This is, let us not drive this one around the houses, a story more concerning the judge than the judgement. The court case itself is just one building block in the screenplay, that's not what the film is actually about. Which is fine I guess, but not being familiar with Ian McEwan's source novel (which he's also adapted for the screen), I have to say I found the title a little disingenuous. The film is called 'The Children Act', not 'The Turbulent And Tiresome Domestic Life Of A Judge Who Once Invoked The Children Act, A Law Which Was Already Established Before This Story Begins'.
When Maye begins singing in the hospital to the boy with leukaemia playing his grandfather's acoustic guitar*1, you know this film's far too pleased with itself*2.
Thompson's great of course, but then she could be reading the phonebook and still be magnificent. The problem is more than she starts the film in full 'Love Actually' mode, and has nowhere to take things after that. If the message of The Children Act is that the events of a case don't end once the court is dismissed, that's fair enough. If the message is that the background of a court case is more complicated or interesting than what's presented to the judge, then that's demonstrably untrue.
At one point in the third act, the treated and recuperating Adam confronts Fiona and fumes that her judgement was always going to be to save his life since that's the law, and that the case was a foregone conclusion. The problem is that the character here is also describing the story itself.
Perhaps the only interesting aspect is that the script doesn't present a coherent, measured argument from the Jehovah's Witness side in opposing the blood transfusion, only the re-stating of doctrine*3. I don't know if that's because as an audience member, my mind was already made up, or if it's because there just isn't a convincing argument. The filmmakers doesn't bash the religious organisation unduly, but in barely addressing the already-legally-decided debate, there's little left for the story to be interested in.
I'm not entirely sure who this film is for. I mean, it's clearly not aimed at me*4, but given the Grey-Pound™ trailers beforehand - and the number of seniors in attendance*5 - I suspect I may be somehow too young to get the most out of this. There's little about the film which screams 'pensioner audience', that's just who it appears to have been marketed at.
And then there's a bit at the end where Emma gets to sit on the edge of her bed delivering a monologue which is a recounting of the exact sequence of events that the audience has spend the previous 95 minutes watching. There's no new nuance or insight made clear by the sequence, it's just a recap. How marvellous.
Make no mistake, the moral-core of The Children Act has its mind made up well before the BBFC card appears. The only surprise is that it managed to annoy me, and not for the reasons I'd feared it would. Because, as if you hadn't already gathered, I'm not a person of faith. Liberal, humanist and logical in nature, I didn't expect The Children Act to change my mind, but I expected it to at least try...
I haven't seen it myself, but I'm told Collateral Beauty?
*1 A guitar they bury with the boy in the end. Oh spoilers, sorry. But yeah. That's a nice acoustic he's got there, and it's an antique as well. As a cherished family heirloom with its sentimental value far above the monetary, obviously the first thing you'd do would be to stick it underground at the first opportunity, right? [ BACK ]
*2 Oh, and that bit in the finale where the gruff security guard is standing outside the concert venue with four sets of doors between him and our heroine gently playing the piano and singing with no amplification, when he cocks an ear, throws down his fag then comes inside to watch reverently and coo compliments afterward? Fuck. Right. Off. [ BACK ]
*3 Right then, actual dialogue exchange from the film:
Fiona: I want to hear it in your own words. Why won't you have a blood transfusion?
Adam: Because it's wrong.
Fiona: Go on...
Adam: God has told us it's wrong.
Fiona: Why is it wrong?
Adam: Why is anything wrong, My Lady? We just know it. Murder, torture, lying, being unfaithful in your marriage... and how do we just know it? It's in our hearts. God has put it there.
Fiona: Is transfusion like torture?
Adam: They're both wrong. I wish I could make you see this. Blood isn't just a biological thing and it isn't just a symbol. It's life itself. It's what we are.
And that's it. That's pretty much the argument, from the proverbial horse's mouth, other than a court scene with Adam's father repeating the same ideology about blood. No-one points out that murder, torture, lying and infidelity are all inherently destructive actions arising from selfish behaviour and resulting in a victim. No-one asks how saving the life of a terminally-ill person is a similarly malicious act. No-one asks if, by extension, all surgery, medical treatments and medications are therefore equally sinful as they're interfering with God's pre-laid lifespan. No-one asks if God might actually want His subjects to be around for a little longer, so that they can do more of His good work than they would otherwise be able. No-one points out that if blood is so sacrosanct and what makes us special, why aren't Jehovah's Witnesses all strict vegans (or at least strict vegetarians), since animals have been given blood, too. Do animals not count? Is that it? Was Noah wasting his time, then? Yeah?
None of this is addressed because the film called 'The Children Act' is about a middle-aged person elsewhere having a domestic breakdown. Which is fine, but don't frame the whole movie like it's got some greater meaning... [ BACK ]
*4 At one point, Maye talks about Newcastle being the only place where she was "wild and free". And yet upon arriving in the jewel of the North East, our favourite judge doesn't immediately head down to the Bigg Market and glass someone in a way she knows will be legally watertight. Another opportunity wasted. [ BACK ]
*5 Today's audience-participation consisted of two walkouts during Slender Man and four walkouts during BlacKkKlansman. Meanwhile, The Children Act made up the numbers somewhat by having four late arrivals - all 'seniors'. The latter pair of these arrived twenty minutes into the film. Twenty minutes. That's 47 minutes after the time on the website, the foyer-screen and indeed the ticket itself. Who in the name of actual fuck looks at their ticket, their watch, notices the disparity of just under an hour and then thinks 'yeah it's okay, we probably haven't missed anything important'? [ 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.
It's difficult, even after all these years of picking films apart, to know how to begin deconstructing a work as bitingly relevant as Spike Lee's BlacKkKlansman. It's the mostly-true 1970s story of the first Afro-American Colorado Springs detective Ron Stallworth (John David Washington), who infiltrates both the Black Panthers and the Ku Klux Klan as a member of an organisation which has wildly fluctuating opinions on both.
This movie has plenty to say and it dares you to disagree.
The KKK-aspect is where the majority of the screentime lies of course, not only since it's the more challenging area*1, but also what the core of the movie is about. Naturally it's an absurd premise in itself, and that's certainly not played down in the script, but it's never loses its edge in either tone or execution.
The problem screenwriters always have in adapting true stories for the screen is, of course, can real events have the satisfying conclusion that a film is willing its audience toward? The answer here is yes.
Fuck yes, it can.
Washington rides front and centre with a turn that's simultaneously deserving of every possible award, yet not overtly angling for a single one. Supported by a magnificent cast, there are no weak performances in BlacKkKlansman; the director wouldn't allow it and neither would the screenplay. And all credit goes to Topher Grace, Alec Baldwin, Jasper Pääkkönen and a host of others for grabbing the bull by the horns in portraying some pretty rank individuals with no less gusto than they'd apply to the most desirable of screen roles.
The KKK aren't represented here as comically stupid (well, not wholly), but the kind of insidious intelligence that 'the organisation' needs to stay in existence, yet still lacking basic common sense. The audience are allowed to laugh at them, but never to underestimate their threat.
Spike Lee's lightness of touch keeps things rolling along. Despite its subject matter the movie isn't inflammatory, it isn't even particularly cynical - just mad as hell from the first scene, and rightfully so. Although there are intentionally amusing moments, BlacKkKlansman is an acerbic drama which Lee directs like a comedy. This duality is both the film's greatest strength, and also what holds it back from finding a comfortable groove. Then again, this piece of work is pretty far from about being comfortable. While there will no doubt be those who think that the last five minutes are 'a bit much', that's the point of the entire film.
Will BlacKkKlansman change minds, politically? Unlikely, but then that's the nature of the problem itself. Spike Lee's film is a line in the sand, a reminder that some things will not go unchallenged, the movie which looks at the tone of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained, then says 'hold my Kool-Aid'...
*1 After the two walkouts in Enfield during Slender Man, we got a quartet of people who decided they weren't digging this Spike Lee joint. Which feels disappointing, but ultimately fair enough. The film's certainly unapologetic in its tone. [ 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.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman looking confused in a poorly lit hospital corridor must be in the supernatural hallucination sequence of a horror movie...
To smalltown America now*1, as four teenagers enjoy a sleepover during which they inadvertently summon the hood-faced, suit-wearing, child-abducting demon known all over the internet (by the cool kids, anyway) as The Slender Man. Cue the rural backwaters shot in heavy focus with desaturated colour palettes and lots of slow dolly-zoom shots as characters stare wordlessly into a forest, soundtracked by the creaking of branches and reverb-laden dialogue callbacks. Even the scenes set in the daytime cast little light into the auditorium*2. You get the picture.
Besides, one of our doomed characters writes in a library book, so deserves everything that's coming to them, frankly.
In the olden days, it would be a mysterious old book or a ouija board used to summon the servants of Hell. These days, it's a laptop. The tech might move forward, but the tropes don't. Speaking of hardware, credit where it's due - Slender Man features nowhere near the industrial amounts of branded product placement we've come to expect from Sony movies. Although there is still some, obviously.
With visual effects ranging from passable to laughable, the full reveal of the eponymous villain is teased out slowly enough, the filmmakers perhaps aware that a third-act backstory read out from a library is the only card they have to play in this game. A textbook tale of adolescents meddling with things they don't understand, surrounded by adults who don't believe them anyway. There's little subtext here other than 'know your place and don't go poking around in the occult'.
The young central cast give spirited performances of a screenplay which runs like it's on rails. Without giving too much away, it quickly becomes apparent that the pair who are doing All The Acting will clearly be the ones still around for the shrieking finale. It's earnestly and enthusiastically acted, but feels a bit like Mozart playing Chopsticks. IE, it doesn't matter how good he is...
Slender Man is technically solid enough for what it is, but in 2018 what it is is very ordinary. My screening had a couple of walk-outs at around the hour mark, but I was unable to tell if this was from heightened outrage or abject boredom. While I can't bring myself to condemn the efficient execution of some seriously low cinematic ambitions, I certainly can't applaud them either...
And stick around until the end of the credits for a stinger which teases the crossover team-up of Slender Man, Hollow Man, Candyman and The Woman In Black!*3
This is in equal parts The Ring, It, The Blair Witch Project and Friend Request.
It's not.
Stream it, tops.
It's not.
That's entirely likely.
There isn't.
Level 2: Joey King's in this, and she was in Wish I Was Here alongside Josh 'Controller Droid in Rebels' Gad.
*1 Albeit via London Enfield, the only Cineworld remotely near me which happened to be showing this movie during daylight hours. [ BACK ]
*2 Which is the bane of that annoying guy in the row in front of you, trying to take notes by the light of the screen and basically having to angle his notebook so that everyone in the room can see it. By which I mean me. Obviously. [ BACK ]
*3 No, not really. Actually, maybe really, I didn't hang around that long to be honest. [ 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.
