The Rhythm Section Cert: 15 / 109 mins / Dir. Reed Morano / Trailer
From time to time, dear reader, even I of all people look at the headlining cast of an otherwise nondescript movie and think 'well this must have something going for it if [INSERT NAME OF PROMINENT PERFORMER]is in it'. And from time to time, I shuffle out of the cinema shortly afterward thinking '...yeah that was just to keep the mortgage ticking over between bigger films, wasn't it?
And so to London (and New York, Madrid, Marseilles and a whole host of easily captionable locations) as Blake Lively plays Stephanie, a woman embroiled in addiction and squalor, struggling to come to terms with her family being killed in a plane crash three years earlier. When she's visited by journalist Proctor (Raza Jaffrey) revealing that the crash was actually a terrorist bombing that was subsequently covered up by the authorities, the chain of intrigue leads to the glens of Inverness where Stephanie finds herself training to be an assassin under the enigmatic but harsh 'B' (Jude Law). The hopes are that revenge and closure will be in the same package, as Stephanie embarks on a world tour of 'cleaning house'...
MUTED John Wick, it is not. Adapted for the screen by Mark Burnell from his novel of the same name, The Rhythm Section is a muted take on the contemporary spy-thriller. At first the setup and exposition feels efficient if unambitious, but the visual and scripted shorthand continues into the main narrative and comes off as a bit overcooked. On one hand, there's the feeling that this story might have just worked better on the page. But on the other, there are even more interchangably-glum novels like this than there are movies, so who knows where the quality-bar really falls?
Blake Lively does quite well from it all*1, although with a storyline as procedural as this it often feels like she's over-acting. Speaking of such matters, I dread to think how much weight Jude Law gained over the shoot, what with the amount of scenery he chews through. Everyone else turns up and says their lines on time, including a criminally under-used Sterling K. Brown. This isn't particularly inspired casting, but then it's not a particularly inspired story.
SUBTITLED The film always feels like it's about to get started. There are a few long-take action sequences which are interesting from a film-making point of view, but Atomic Blonde had those and was also fun. This isn't bad, it just isn't memorable. With Bond-meisters Eon Productions' name attached, you may well expect better, but ultimately, putting The Rhythm Section out two months before their own No Time To Die seems like a colossal waste of resources.
Best line comes from Jude Law's 'B' during the training section:
"It's not a tragedy, it's a cliché. You're a cliché, you haven't got what it takes."
*1 Although on a minor note, Lively's accent can never quite decide if if wants to hail from South London or the Home Counties. I mean I've certainly heard a lot worse from other performers (not least Law himself), but you know that I wouldn't be able to not bring this up. [ 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, I'm not sure which theatrical gods I've appeased recently, but while the faintly trashy thriller Morgan didn't arrive at my local multiplex*1, the latest offering from Woody Allen did. And unless I'm very much mistaken, it's the first film of his to play there in the cinema's nine-year tenure.
** proudly wears film-snob hat **
The tale of Bobby, a self-conscious young Jewish man in the 1930s, moving from New York to Hollywood to work with his successful film-producer uncle, Café Society is one of Woody Allen's more Woody Allen™ films, and is all the more enjoyable for that. When falling for the girl of his dreams turns out to be far more complicated than he'd hoped, Bobby returns to the Big Apple to help run the family business, a decidedly dodgy nightclub. Naturally enough, the past returns to haunt him, and Allen's comedy of manners turns into a rumination on guilt, regret and idealism (don't worry, it's not as heavy as I've made that sound).
Jesse Eisenberg is almost tailor-made for the protagonist's role, seamlessly blending his trademark awkward muttering with Allen's script. He's supported in this by Steve Carell as the aforementioned uncle and Kristen Stewart as both his love-interest and macguffin. Carell cruises through his role as the troubled Hollywood mogul, not having to strain himself at all, but being able to deliver what's required without autopiloting. Stewart is a little more concerning, though. While it's great to see her and Jesse back together again, and while they have an undeniable screen-chemistry, Kristen never really convinces as someone from the 1930s. I think Stewart's a very underrated actress but she carries a modern aesthetic she can't seem to shake off here. And in this case, I have to lay the blame at least partly at the feet of the director. The rest of the cast blend into the timeframe so effortlessly that I can't believe Allen just let one of the most important performances of the film stand out in the wrong way. Things are made even more glaring when Blake Lively arrives in the second half, exuding a bygone era once again and thoroughly upstaging her counterpart.
But, on the whole, the film works perfectly well. Woody Allen is completely at home in the 1930s, and cinematographer Vittorio Storaro bathes the depression-era in a golden glow which matches both the script and the narcissistic characters delivering it. As noted above, what begins as a zippy farce ends quite ponderously, and often feels more like the Coen Brothers at times. Café Society won't be one of its director's most loved works, but it's a more-than-acceptable offering until the next one of those comes along...
Possibly, but I don't think it achieves all it could.
No, not that that's a criticism in itself.
No.
No.
Level 2: This movie stars Ken Stott, who appeared in those Hobbit films, along with Richard 'Bravo Six' Armitage and Christopher 'Dooku' Lee.
*1 It's not like I purposely travelled to watch Morgan, it just happened to be playing near where I was at the time. Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate the movie, I'm just glad that a) I was able to use my Unlimited Card and b) it was genuinely a rainy afternoon as an alternative.
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.
I'm not going to lie, I usually avoid movies about sharks. Not least because most of them are deliberately crap these days, but also because after the first Jaws movie, I fail to see what can really be brought to a genre which doesn't appeal to me in the first place (and naturally, I include all the Jaws sequels in that). Anyhow, I went to see The Shallows. Not least because it slotted in nicely with a day's cinema-viewing in the capital. And absolutely not at all for The Other Reason.
Short plot synopsis: The film preys on man's innate and primal fear of anything bad happening happening to Blake Lively. When troubled dropout medical student Nancy*1 travels to a remote Mexican surfing-beach as an homage to a holiday her late mother took, she finds herself injured and stranded on a rocky outcropping as an angry shark circles around like a drunk at the door of a kebab-shop.
With its human v nature, survival-thriller aesthetic, The Shallows is quite Hitchcockian at its core, with the shark being a metaphor for Nancy's fear, the danger of reliance on nostalgia but also her own determination. Given that the vast majority of her performance is essentially monologuing, Lively is pretty great here. She and director Jaume Collet-Serra hold the film together well, and I'd like to see them work together in the future.
Oh and yeah, The Other Reason. Initially all this does seem a bit like a cheap excuse to get Blake Lively in a bikini and wetsuit-top for an hour and a half. The first twenty minutes in particular feel like a big-screen adaptation of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. And that might be par for the course with crap like Piranha 3D, but The Shallows is actually a much smarter film.
Of course, I'm hardly a marine-life expert but even I noticed inconsistencies you could use to bludgeon a whale to death*2. Although I was generally going along with it until the point where the screenwriter's clearly decided "and then the shark goes on fire a bit!". But as a story of an ordinary person in an extraordinary situation, it just about works. As much as it still isn't really my thing, I have to admit I'm impressed by the film-making.
A more-than-reasonable stab at a genre which didn't need any more additions, The Shallows might not put you off going for a paddle, but it should make you look a bit more closely at that person further out who seems to know you because they're waving…
Well, it's a bit 127 Hours, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not…
The big screen is good at heightening the tension, but you won't lose too much by watching this at home.
Level 2: Blake Lively's in this, and she was in that film last year with Harrison 'Solo' Ford.
All roads lead to Han, today.
I mean, she was in the same film with Anthony Ingruber who was very nearly 'Solo' too, but as with Miles Teller the other day, Anthony didn't get the young-Han gig either.
Alden Ehrenreich had better be good, mind…
*2 Come on, Screenwriters. It's 2016: we need more protagonists called Nancy. It's an awesome name and I spent the film imagining that Blake Lively's character was a friend of my Grandma who lives over the road from her.
*2 Okay, the main issues break down like this:
(highlight to read, although they'll make little/no sense if you haven't seen the film)
1)How come Nancy can get a reliable data-signal on her phone (strong enough for a video-call) on a secret, deserted beach in Mexico, yet I struggle to post to Facebook when I'm in fucking Wandsworth? Although I'm guessing Nancy's not with BT Mobile, to be fair. 2)Speaking of data-connections, why does Nancy make a big deal about asking the few people she meets what the name of the beach is? Just GPS yourself on Google Maps and go from there, surely? There aren't any secrets on the internet… 3)Why would an experienced surfer wear those flimsy necklaces out in the water, especially if they've got sentimental value? 4)There's Nancy timing the shark swimming around the rock. "32 seconds" she says, to give herself time to brave the water and back without being attacked. That's the shark cruising, though. As soon as your bleeding leg gets back into the water, Sharky Bappa will accelerate to attack-speed, at which point: lunch. 5)And there's Nancy looking at a buoy and gauging the distance. "That's about a minute's swim" she says. Except that by that point, she's down to three usable limbs and hasn't eaten for over 24 hours. Hardly olympic-material. Again, lunch. 6)How come when the fat man from the beach has been Darth-Mauled by the shark and he's dragging his top-half ashore, the severed spinal column (or just rapid blood/organ loss) didn't paralyse or kill him instantly? His abdomen and legs are actually and completely off. You see them, remember. 7)And how come when the surfer dudes show up the next morning, they don't notice the top-half of a fat man on the beach? He crawled up at high-tide so there'd be nothing to pull him back into the water. Apart from that, I imagine it's almost documentary-like in its attention to detail.
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.
There's much to love about The Age Of Adaline, not least Blake Lively's almost otherworldly performance and a fascinating narrative that's live a vampiric love-story without the bloodletting*1. But a potentially brilliant film is held back by the needless shoehorning of bullshit-science (because it's apparently too much to have the audience of a fantasy film presented with straight-up magic) and an occasionally awful script. That said, my biggest bugbear is the film's sporadic narration, every bit as intrusive, unnecessary and patronising as the one in The Book Thief, expositing things for the viewer when the rest of the screenplay can't be bothered. Although it's also important to note that while Adaline researches her 'gift', it's all to no avail, so her character never actually knows the nonsensical details that the narrator gives us.
Blake Lively is really the main attraction here. Combined with the wardrobe department's meticulous crafting of a 'woman out of time' look, she's arguably too good for this film. While she delivers on the story's promise, the rest of the cast are never quite able to grasp the opportunity for themselves. Michiel Huisman does the best he can with the dialogue he's given (see below), Harrison Ford is 'good', but isn't really given enough screentime to lend his character the weight it needs, and Anthony Ingruber is almost wasted as Ford's younger incarnation. And it's a real shame, because this movie could have been absolutely outstanding with a little more care.
An extended BluRay version of The Age Of Adaline, about half an hour longer and with no voiceover, would go towards letting the film achieve its potential. It's still worth a watch in its present form, of course, just don't get your hopes up (not that you're likely to after this review).
• Best/worst line in the script: "My dad, on the other hand, has his head in the stars. Literally… he's an astronomer". Oh, so astronomers have their craniums physically inserted into giant balls of burning hydrogen, do they? 'Literally'?
• Question for those of you who've seen the film: So Adaline doesn't age, but she can pick up scars? Wouldn't her Wolverine-like metabolism give her super healing abilities, too? You're right, I'd have turned this into a superhero flick. Suspect that's why I wasn't asked to review any of the drafts…
If you're at a loose end on a Sunday afternoon, maybe.
It's probably a rental, to be fair.
Not quite.
I don't actually believe the film knows what it sets out to do, so no.
Nah.
There isn't.
It stars Captain Solo himself, Harrison Ford.
*1 Ironically, many of the exterior shots in San Francisco had me location-spotting from Interview With The Vampire.
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.
From time to time, dear reader, even I of all people look at the headlining cast of an otherwise nondescript movie and think 'well this must have something going for it if [INSERT NAME OF PROMINENT PERFORMER] is in it'. And from time to time, I shuffle out of the cinema shortly afterward thinking '...yeah that was just to keep the mortgage ticking over between bigger films, wasn't it?
