Krampus (SPOILERS)
Cert: 15 / 98 mins / Dir. Michael Dougherty / Trailer
Ah, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas*1. The annual season of cheer, goodwill and unfettered capitalism has been the hand-in-glove companion for the film industry since 1901's Scrooge; Or Marley's Ghost. Of course, not all movies are candy-cane-sweet, and so the self-aware sub-genre of 'Christmas Horror' was created for moviegoers who like to think they're a bit more cynical about the whole thing. Which is precisely why I'm going to be as cynical as I am about the latest addition to the festive-library, Krampus…
Based around the (suddenly remarkably well known) alpine legend of St Nicholas' diabolical counterpart, we begin with possibly the most facetious title sequence for a Christmas movie in living memory, watching a slow-motion montage of sales-shoppers destroy everything in their path in the bloodthirsty quest for a bargain. It's especially notable given how formulaic the film becomes after it. The problem is that the idea at its core is reasonably good; but the film is rarely more than reasonable. Too many of the movie's central family are unlikeable to the point that their continued survival doesn't become important to the audience, but they're not quite despicable enough that their grisly ends can be met with any satisfied glee.
This isn't helped by a ninety minute screenplay which drags its heels in dispatching most of its hapless inhabitants, leading to a mass cull in the last ten minutes that feels more like carelessness than a crescendo. Krampus can never let go and become as boldly different as it'd like, struggling to reconcile a mainstream horror flick and a relatively tame black comedy. Rather than working together, the styles spend too much time undermining each other's effectiveness. That said, when The Horror™ does finally arrive in force, it's still a little too cartoonish to hold any real sense of threat on its own. By the third-act finale, Krampus has begun to resemble the old Puppet Master series, with a range of festive atrocities who - although finely crafted and realised - seem to have been designed to cater to a secondary revenue-stream of t-shirts and high-end maquette collectables. More Hot Topic than Hammer House of Horror.
But it's not awful at all. This is just the kind of low-rent monster-flick which usually gets released straight-to-DVD (which, for shameless Cousin Eddie rip-off, David Koechner, is the second one in as many months). The production values are all relatively high, but they're dragging around a screenplay which needs a thorough polish.
For a Christmas-based black-comedy/horror that's truly quirky, you'd be better off with 2010's Rare Exports, although this pared-down Hollywood re-tooling is perfectly acceptable for a night in with the sherry and the eggnog…
Spoilers - highlight to read: Mind, that Bobby-Ewing-stepping-out-of-the-shower ending can fuck right off, as well.
Not unless mainstream horror is really your thing.
Maybe buy it for the Christmas-pile, but wait until it's under a fiver.
It does not.
It does not.
I will not.
There is not.
Krampus stars (inexplicably) Toni Collette, who also appeared in 2000's Shaft remake, alongside Sam 'Windu' Jackson.
*1 Of course, the most annoying thing about reviewing these movies is reading back what you've written and seeing that you've put the word 'Christmas' three times in one paragraph and twice in the next. And there's only so many times you can get away with 'festive', 'seasonal' and 'holiday season' instead. Bunch of arse. Anyway, Christmas Christmas Christmas...
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.
So, this is my third Jesse Plemons film this month; the cinema staff are beginning to talk. Everyone's favourite grump-faced young Texan is just one supporting pillar of many in the fantastically cast Black Mass, the true/dramatised story of Massachusetts crime-kingpin James 'Whitey' Bulger and his 20 year grip over Boston, all of which was in fact aided and abetted by his state-senator brother, and their childhood friend who became a crooked FBI agent.
First and foremost, Johnny Depp is on blistering form as Bulger. It's great to finally have Johnny back in a role which gives him something to do, boldly striding down the line between charismatic and repellent (and often being both). As Black Mass progresses though, it becomes as much Joel Edgerton's film as Depp's, and he's shaping up to be a classic character-actor in playing the FBI's John Connolly. Backed by understated performances from the likes of Benedict Cumberbatch, Dakota Johnson, Kevin Bacon, Corey Stoll, Rory Cochrane and Juno Temple (okay, and Jesse Plemons), director Scott Cooper isn't afraid to use some quiet restraint with his cast, opting for lengthy, scathing glances rather than Tarantino-esque shoot-outs (although rest assured, there's a not-insignificant bullet-count in here as well).
In other hands, the film could easily have been a straight-to-DVD thriller starring Russell Crowe, but Cooper's unflinching treatment of his subject matter (this is a hard 15 Cert), Junkie XL's melodically imposing score, and the fantastic sets, make-up and costumes make Black Mass far more than the sum of its parts…
…although it's duly noted that Mr Cumberbatch seems to have mastered his Massachusetts accent by studying Peter Griffin, Depp's criminal mastermind barely ages between 1975 and 1995, and his accompanying semi-receded hairline doesn't seem to budge at all;)
If you're in the mood for unrelenting grimness on a large screen, yes.
It'll be one to buy, but maybe once the price has dropped.
Almost certainly.
Almost certainly.
Maybe a bit.
There isn't.
Black Mass stars none other than young Owen Lars himself, Joel Edgerton.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
The studio representative slouched to one side of the screen, his nightvision camera in-hand and his considerable stomach straining to be free of a work-shirt bought when he was two sizes slimmer. A Cineworld staff member stood in front of him, to his right. "Welcome to our second Secret Unimited Screening," he struggled over the audience chatter and in-screen muzak which hadn't been turned down for his announcement. "You've already been asked to turn your mobile phones off, and we ask that you keep them off for the duration of the film. The gentleman with me represents the makers of the film, and will be monitoring tonight's screening for any illegal recording…" (a large percentage of patrons had immediately turned their phones back on once they'd got to their seats. Either the security-rep couldn't see the glowing faces, or he just didn't care.) "I should also tell you that the film you're seeing tonight is an unfinished version, and won't be in cinemas until next month." (as it was the 25th of the month, the audience successfully hid their surprise at this exclusivity.)
After three trailers and another uneasy nail in the coffin of Kevin Bacon's credibility, the BBFC card lit up the faces of the audience… The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty, it read. The audience groaned, audibly. No, seriously. Not everyone, but enough that it was a thing. A lot of the folks here had probably seen the five minute promo that ran before Thor: The Dark World, where Ben Stiller sits in a hotel room, feigning awkwardness in introducing his latest movie, whilst also giving off vibes of genuine awkwardness. It's like Stiller doesn't quite know what slot it should fit into, so he tries to cover all the bases in the time he's allotted, and the end result feels like it's all over the place, ambitiously spinning more plates than it can hope to maintain.
Sadly, that promo is a spot-on representation of the film I saw tonight. Walter Mitty features some stunning photography, and it's clear than a lot of heart has gone into making it, yet that doesn't quite translate to the screen the way you know Stiller wanted it to. It's quite often smile-inducing, either through humour or charm, but the film is never different enough to escape the box it's urging us all to break out of. The escapist daydreams which the Mitty character is famous for disappear after the first act*1, leaving a film which feels a little like a cross between a midlife crisis and a hipster re-imagining of Lord Of The Rings. I honestly believe that "skateboard past an Icelandic volcano" was the deal-breaker from day one with this project. Ben is affable enough to carry his part off, as is his just-out-of-reach romantic foil, Wiig. But everyone other than Walter is presented in strictly one-dimensional terms, which is fine as the story's being told from Mitty's point-of-view, but Walter himself seems largely pencilled-in and aimless, rounding out his own story by luck, rather than judgement.
Films don't have to fit into just one slot, but audiences do expect them to, rightly or wrongly. The biggest problem is that The Secret Life of Walter Mitty doesn't really fit into any. I can't even call it a noble failure, as it's better than that; more of a beautifully photographed mess. For a film trying so hard to be inspirational, there's a distinct lack of sincerity.
Ben Stiller tries to show us his heart, but gets distracted more than his re-imagined Walter, and ends up presenting nothing more than a whimsical rom-com; which is light on both the rom and the com. The depth of field is often breathtaking, but the depth of character leaves a lot to be desired…
Pretty much.
Not as much as I'd have liked.
For me, not even close.
Iceland looks nice, big. Then again, Iceland always looks nice. You don't need Ben Stiller belting around on a skateboard to show it off..
No.
Maybe with Stiller's commentary.
There's a Wilhelm in the Cineworld extended preview, when he's the ice-explorer by the drinks machine (not in that trailer above, though), but it wasn't in the cut of the film we saw. I can't actually remember the last time I heard the scream in the trailer when it wasn't in the film itself, but I'm sure it'll be in the version you see..
Why is there a photo and sculpted-bust tribute to Peter Sellers in the same shot? Stiller has credited 'Being There' as an influence in this project, but did I miss an equal and/or bigger reference to… well, someone linked with Walter Mitty? This may be indicative of a larger problem, I think...
*1 SPOILERY THINGS: Unless I'm missing something big and the whole Greenland/Icelandic adventure thing was a daydream. But I stayed until the end of the credits and there was no suggestion of that, just the Happy Hollywood Ending™. I know the whole snow leopard thing was a massive metaphor, but the film also suggests that it's actually happening as well.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
