Lifting November's pace comes Brian Kirk’s 21 Bridges, the thriller marketed heavily as being ‘from’ the Russo Brothers, despite them being in producer roles, rather than writing or directing. More on the perceived differences between these some other time. No matter, it all goes toward bums-on-seats.
Chadwick Boseman plays Andre Davis, a methodically brilliant NYPD detective with a reputation for acting with his trigger finger at crucial times. When a late-night drug robbery goes wrong in Manhattan and the thieves are on the loose with a ridiculous amount of cocaine, Davis makes the call to close the titular 21 bridges on and off the island in a bid to cut off their escape routes*1.
And it’s solid. Although it’s not groundbreaking.. Much like Knives Out, 21 Bridges isn’t necessarily doing anything new, it’s just having enormous fun in an established toy box. This is a fairly standard narc-thriller lifted by JohnWickian levels of gunfire and screen-violence.
Boseman does well in a role that calls for action above words, and has a quietly effective screen chemistry with Sienna Miller as Detective Burns. Also notably punching above the screenplay’s weight is Stephan James as Michael, one of the hapless crooks. Other supporting players including JK Simmons and Taylor Kitsch are fine, but closer to ‘press-out’ in terms of characterisation. But ten years ago this would have starred Mark Wahlberg and Russel Crowe and been a hell of a lot worse, so let's be thankful for where we are now.
21 Bridges won't set the box office alight (not least because a lack of full distribution meant catching this on a foray into London), but it’s a tight and diverting movie with its roots in 70s cop-cinema. It’s a product of the cynical times we live in, healthy enough in small measures.
Think Die Hard 3 but with more bite and less banter.
Just about.
Repeat viewings aren't really on the cards, so this is probably a streamer.
Let's not get carried away.
That's possible.
There isn't.
Level 2: Chadwick Boseman is in this and he's been in all manner of MCU shenanigans with Sam 'Windu' Jackson, among others.
*1 It's worth noting that The Bose also gets the tunnels and ferry services closed as well, but I imaging 21 Bridges Plus Tunnels And Ferries isn't quite as snappy a title. [ 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, 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.
The thing is, right, there are two reasons for cinemas staggering their start-times across a schedule. The main one is so that people aren't all queuing to get into different screens at the same time, and the second is that if you accidentally walk into the wrong screen, you'll instantly know it because the film will be part-way through (ie you won't have to wait through 27 mins of ads and trailers to realise what you've done). So imagine my surprise on Friday afternoon when I arrived in Screen 3 of my local during the pre-trailer adverts only to find that the apparent audience for Tomas Alfredson's visual take on Jo Nesbø's serial killer novel was of a demographic usually reserved for pieces such as Dad's Army and Dunkirk. Nothing intrinsically wrong with that of course (although the rustle of sweet wrappers was an issue throughout, as usual), but I honestly wondered how many of them were thinking this was a reboot of the otherSnowman. No walk-outs anyway, so maybe the Silver Cineastes were just up for a bit of good old-fashioned Murder™…
And so to the film, dear reader. Ah. The film. Evidence of Michael Fassbender's poor decision-making skills continues to trickle in, with this cinematic rendering of a highly successful book. Because when you're transferring a series of bestselling thrillers to the big screen, it's always best to start midway through that series. Oh, always. Fassbender plays Harry Hole*1, a barely-functioning alcoholic maverick detective in Oslo, who has to clear the debris from his personal life in order to crack the case of women going missing whenever it snows. He's joined in this task by a wide-eyed trainee Katrine Bratt (Rebecca Ferguson), and they both begin to suspect this is the work of a morally judgemental serial killer.
The plot is solid (if unremarkable) enough, but the dialogue is overwritten, one suspects in a bid to cram a potential 4-6 hour TV drama down into a 2-hour movie. Admittedly, I haven't read the original tome, but it would appear that the deployment of three screenwriters has butchered any thematic symbolism, nuance and indeed logic*2 from the story. Turns in the plot which should probably be revelatory to the audience just feel like Another Thing Happening Now. And as well as seeming derivative of an entire genre of detective fiction, the attempts to 'pace up' what should be a slow, unfolding story are what hurt the film the most.
Fassbender autopilots through it all, by no means a bad performance, but far from everything he's been proven to be capable of. Ferguson tries to elevate her role to that of co-lead, but doesn't have the material to back it up. Meanwhile, performances by child actors here are uniformly dreadful, and Toby Jones and Val Kilmer appear to have completed their roles in an afternoon off from some other job*3, so that the poster can have a couple of extra familiar names.
I'd like to say the The Snowman is grindingly average, but even that would be paying it a not-quite-deserved compliment. and it's hard to imagine anyone other than hardcore fans of Jo Nesbø's novels getting anything out of the final product. Ultimately, I couldn't connect with the film on any emotional level. Even in this thriller's most manipulative moments, I wasn't thrilled. I was barely even interested.
I'm sure everyone involved would like to think they've created something Gritty™, when in actuality The Snowman is just fill of characters that are inherently unlikeable.
I began Friday's cinema visit wondering if I'd walked into the wrong screen. Two and a half hours later, I still didn't have an answer…
Things where people wear jumpers and stare out of windows at snow for extended periods of time. Except there are fewer jumpers and fewer windows in this.
The cinema I saw this in projected the film at the wrong aspect ratio, so probably not.
Not that seeing technically less of The Snowman could be classed as a problem, of course.
But her agent's page has her down for The Snowman.
Plus, it's quite obviously her in the film. She's in the trailer and everything.
So what's going on there?
This lacklustre tale of a messianic serial killer is hardly Se7en.
I mean it's barely even a Thr3e…
*2 I'm not even sure when this is meant to be set. All the main characters are using contemporary iPhones, but the police also carry around portable computers that look like an iPad designed in the 1950s (and whose entire functionality is something that any mid-range tablet can do now anyway, at about a tenth of the size/weight).
Although on a narrative level, so much is left unexplained here. Spoilery discussion: Harry Hole tells his boss there's been no homicide, only missing persons, in the scene just after he finds a woman's severed head in a pit under the house. Why would he lie to his superior about that? Is Birte Becker's body found, or does she just remain missing in perpetuity after that? Is Katrine Bratt dead in the end? That Sylvia Ottersen in the chicken shed was just given a paralysing agent while the murderer cut her head off, and there was no indication that he gave Katrine any more when he removed her finger (which, incidentally, was in incredibly blood-free removal, even for a newly deceased corpse - although the same can be said of the head removal and Sylvia was definitely alive when that happened).[ BACK ]
*3 Speaking of which, It appears that Valentine Kilimanjaro's facial structure has become such a grotesque parody of its former self that the erstwhile Batman can no longer deliver coherent dialogue even on an enclosed set, and has to ADR his lines in post-production. Unfortunately, no-one involved in that process seems to have been looking at any of the actual footage, resulting in the final synchronisation of Val's performances nestling somewhere in the region of 'Saniflo Advert'™. [ 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.
As I write these words, two things of note have happened to me in the last forty-eight hours. On Saturday morning, I went to my dentist to have an infected tooth removed. On Sunday evening, I went to my cinema to watch a preview-screening of La La Land.
As I write these words, it's Sunday night and I'm trying to work out the low-point of the weekend…
…if you enjoyed being invited to your niece's stage-school reimagining of Singin' In The Rain, only to remember twenty minutes in that you don't have a niece, you don't know anyone on the stage and other people's children are precocious shits anyway, but you're pretty much trapped now so the only options are a) grimace through the taped-on enthusiasm looking for any trace of subtlety and meaning, or b) stand up and yell "when does this END?" towards the stage. If, like me, you over-value politeness you'll probably go for A, knowing at least that you'll give the production a fucking rinsing as soon as you're in front of a keyboard.
Well, advance screenings (of which this was one) always have a slightly earlier start-time, due to no adverts being shown and fewer trailers before the film. It's usual, therefore, for there to be several 'late arrivals' as the feature presentation is in its first ten minutes, and tonight was no exception. And how I envied those souls as time went on, if only because they'd had to sit through less of La La Land than I had….
Well if - if - writer/director Damien Chazelle was aiming for 'directionless, overly-long, overly-kitsch and self-indulgent fan-film of Hollywood's Golden Age, clearly hoping to do for the big-number musical what The Artist did for silent cinema but seemingly forgetting that the things which made those musicals great were craft, charm, characters you actually gave a shit about and above all else the music', then yeah it probably does.
Point also deducted for having John Legend in the film (whom one can only assume has been cast because of his in-movie singing rather than his acting) to lecture our lead character about being 'stuck in the past', a speech inserted artlessly into a screenplay whose only concession to the modern day is that the characters have iPhones.
If you want a film about a bittersweet, nearly-made-it love story in Hollywood between two flawed but engaging characters, watch Café Society. If you want a film about the relevance of Jazz in the twenty first century, watch Miles Ahead.
Oddly, both Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling are on pretty good form, here. But being a good performer in a thing that's awful doesn't make that thing any better (cf the cast of Exodus: Gods & Kings).
Of course not.
Everyone seems to love La La Land so far, and I'm aware that my opinion's in a minority.
Albeit a minority of people who are right.
There isn't.
Level 2: This film stars that Ryan Gosling, who's also in the upcoming Blade Runner sequel alongside Harrison 'Solo' Ford.
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.
Kung Fu Panda 3 (2D)
Cert: PG / 95 mins / Dir. Jennifer Yuh Nelson & Alessandro Carloni / Trailer
A great start to Dreamworks' latest installment in the Kung Fu Panda series is the BBFC card itself. Bearing the PG rating-logo and associated colour scheme, the only supporting information or guidance is the words "Mild martial arts action". Firstly, I love that this was worth putting on front-street for a movie called Kung Fu Panda. Secondly, it's slightly ironic that this movie has better fight-choreography than most grown-up action movies. And is a damn sight more fun.
The overall style of the saga has really come into its own now, and the very first scene in this threequel feels like throwing on an old comfortable hoodie. It's not just the quality of the animation itself that makes KFP what it is, but the cinematography and editing as well. Stylised enough to pay homage to both traditional Oriental artwork and more the schlocky martial arts movies of recent years, while still feeling entirely like its own thing.
The film is the usual mix of visual slapstick, scripted gags and a little bit of soul-searching. The latter is more muted this time around, which is not necessarily a bad thing. The more reflective moments are always fighting a losing battle with mawkishness, but there's more than enough of the silly humour to keep things rolling along well. There's certainly the feeling that these movies could push a more philosophical message if they worked harder to balance it well, but that could well be at the cost of what makes them so much fun in the first place.
A comfortable addition to the canon, Kung Fu Panda 3 does what it does well and gives the audience plenty to chortle at. Dreamworks Animation will never be Disney, but while they're able to reach this high, maybe they don't need to be…
The other Kung Fu Panda flicks.
Having knowledge of the lead-ups is desirable, but you'll still have fun if this is your first.
For the quality of the animation, yes. Everything else will be fine once it hits DVD/BRD.
Pretty much, although that could be because it's not stretching too far this time around.
Really not sure I'd go that far, but everyone can safely put this on their CV, yes.
Nope.
I didn't hear one..
Level 2: KFP features the voice of Bryan Cranston, who also stars in Trumbo along with Alan 'as yet unnamed role in Star Wars: Rogue One Tudyk.
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.
