Credit where it's undeniably due, when you put your money down to see Dexter Fletcher's Elton John biopic, RocketMan, you know pretty much exactly what to expect, and that’s pretty much exactly what’s delivered. The fact that the film is also (mostly) fantastic is a bonus atop of this directional clarity.
SAILING It’s not all plain sailing. I struggled with the two child-iterations of our hero and storyteller, the whole thing having a distinct am-dram air as a heavy-handed rendition of childhood strife is laid out for the hard-of-thinking in the audience. But at the moment - that very frame - where Taron Egerton takes the reins, I instantly relaxed back into my seat with the thought ’ahh, it’s going to be great now’. And so it proved. The Kingsman star is shaping up to be one of the greatest performers of his generation, effortlessly endearing even when he’s portraying a self-confessed diva.
On that subject, naturally this whole thing should be taken with a pinch of salt so large it requires its own health warning. Sure, we see Elton John as a self-obsessed bundle of nervous energy, self aggrandisement and bad decision-making, but never forget that this is Elton John’s version of bad-boy Elton John. Many scenes seem to carry the subtext that things were probably either nowhere near that bad or about a hundred times worse. Let's just say that you don’t need to wait until the closing credits tell you that Elton John was the executive producer of this to work out that Elton John was the executive producer of this.
LEGEND
But the music’s great (as you’d expect) and the flashback-based structure is loose enough to have fun with the well-known facts while not getting too bogged down in plot-minutiae. All was going swimmingly until one particular climactic moment where I may or may not have broken The Code by muttering “oh fuck off!”, so needlessly literal is its amateur-hour psychoanalysis. But that’s fine because we still end on a high, and the ride leading up to it was great fun. Bonus points for the 'what happened next' cards which close out the film, in case anyone is sitting in the auditorium thinking 'yeah, because Elton's kept a very low profile since 1990, is he still around at all..?
Oh, and how come in the John Lewis advert he gets the piano for Christmas and is instantly entranced by it, but in this film the piano's just in the dining room anyway and he starts playing it one day for no reason?
It is, but watch it in the cinema for the full effect.
Fletcher goes from strength to strength, Egerton is fantastic as always*1
Bryce Dallas Howard should be a fun revelation, but her accent's Downton Abbey one moment and Eastenders the next. And while there are some scenes where she's putting on airs, I don't think that's intentional for the amount of times she wanders over the line.
As much as I love most of this film, that's still a distinct possibility.
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.
Y'know, when the poster proudly trumpets "From the studio that brought you X-Men, Days Of Future Past", what you have to remember is that they're also the studio that brought you Fantastic Four. Although if anything, that should only raise audience expectations, right? After all, a period of contrite reflection and furious storyboarding did Sony alright, didn't it?
Well, I can tell you now that Fantastic Four isn't the worst Fantastic Four movie any more. Fantastic Four is*1. The plot of Josh Trank's reboot sees five young actors step into an under-tested machine, who are then hurled into the atmosphere-free void of Simon Kinberg's screenplay, a barren, desolate landscape bereft of drama, charm or wit. Or interest.
How have they done this? How have a real, grown-up studio with a (patchy, admittedly) record of super-hero movies managed to take one of Marvel's best-loved properties and managed to make a film so utterly boring? The script is a perfect example of Perfunctory™, full of stilted clichés and half-arsed exposition and delivered by the poorly-chosen cast as if they'd actually filmed their shared scenes in different rooms, such is the absolute lack of spark between them. The eponymous quartet neither look, sound nor act like any previous iteration of The Fantastic Four (and not in a cool, groundbreaking sort of a way), and are essentially just four kids who have the same super-powers as the adult versions in those other films you're not meant to think about.
And Doctor Doom looks like he's been drawn in by a five-year old.
The film is monumentally dull, not even trying to be anything more than a hastily scribbled note on the cinematic fridge-door that reads "…if we didn't make this now we'd have lost the film rights, sorry!". Given Marvel's heritage and the source-material Fox had to work with, this is inexcusable.
Credit where it's due, Doctor Doom's murderous rampage in the laboratory is quite darkly handled, and at least The Thinglooks a bit better this time around (doesn't sound or act it), but is walking around without any pants on! I suppose that at least answers answers Brody's question…
When the vast majority of the audience at an exclusive advance screening leaves during the preliminary bout of end-credits of a Marvel flick, that tells you how much they enjoyed the previous hour and a half. Although the few of us who sat to the end needn't have bothered…
The business-end:
• Is there a Wilhelm Scream? No.
• Is there a mid-credits scene? No.
• Is there a post-credits scene? No.
• Is there a Stan Lee cameo? No… No.
You don't have to stay through the closing credits. Although in all fairness, you don't have to stay through the opening credits, either.
And that's right, true believer! 20th Century Fox have managed to make a mainstream Marvel movie so unremittingly bad that even Stan Lee didn't want a cameo…
It's not. It's not worth paying to see. The end.
Don't not-watch it for money, wait until it's on ITV2 and don't watch it then.
In no way, shape or form.
…make me pine for a movie where Chris Evans (not that one) snowboards down a mountainside to the backing of Sum41 like some awful Pepsi Max commercial but with a clunkier script?
It kinda does, yes.
....
There isn't.
Fantastic Four stars Toby Kebbell, who provided voice-work for the Star Wars: The Old Republic game. ('Additional Voices': it still counts. You'd have it on your CV as having worked in Star Wars, so it still counts)
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, I wouldn't go so far as to call the novelunfilmable, but when I heard Irvine Welsh's horrifying helter-skelter of a book was being adapted to the screen I remember thinking 'Filth? …Filth, Filth? How the hell are you going to make that?. Fast-forward many months later, and I've got my answer: ^ Like that ^. Screenwriter and director Baird has grabbed the bull by both horns, and translated a version that's very largely faithful to the original, while still having its own light to shine. I don't mean to be one of those book>film pedants, but there really is a lot to live up to here, and the film really does manage it.
James McAvoy is shaping up to be one of this generation's most versatile actors, and he positively embraces the chance to play alcoholic, coke-addled sociopath Bruce Robertson, and a large amount of screen-time is spent in his head, living the world through his hallucinations and splintered world-view. Truth be told, the entire cast throw themselves fully into the fray, because there's really no other way to approach this. As Bruce's habits and their respective tolls escalate, everyone around him gets to twist the proverbial knife, and the adaptation from page to screen meant that even I was wondering how far things were going to go.
I do think certain aspects could have been handled better. Without being spoilery, there's a huge amount of effort expended on making Bruce an unlikeable character, but he never quite earns the pity of the viewer, no matter how pathetic his actions. In order for the film's punchline to work, you really need that pity, otherwise it comes off as flippant, and that's not what I took from the book. I think an extra fifteen minutes or so exploring Bruce's inner psyche with a calmer tone would have worked wonders. But there, I've become the kind of book>film twat I mentioned earlier. Ah, well.
Short version: If you enjoyed the more hallucinogenic aspects of Trainspotting, you'll get a lot out of Filth. Welsh proves once again that you can be flexible with your linear narrative if you throw enough fucked up situations at the reader/viewer and a few crowning reveal shots. Given the scope of the project, Filth is nothing short of magnificent. A version incorporating deleted scenes would be perfect, thank you.
Almost.
I did.
Very nearly almost. It should certainly be commended for what it does achieve..
If you can see it in a cinema, do, but it should be every bit as fucked up watching at home.
Quite possibly.
Fuck yes.
There isn't.
I'd like to see MacAvoy in the new Star Wars films. Tell me why I'm right, please…
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.
"Surgeons have worked tirelessly for 72 hours but have been unable to separate Sam Worthington from his Australian accent."
Yes, Worthington's back - the cinematic equivalent of beige wallpaper. Able to take any role and drain it of all emotion and believability. It's not that he's 'bad' as such - he reads his lines and pulls the right faces - but he always comes off as an understudy who doesn't really want to be there.
The Plot: A cop, framed for a jewel robbery, breaks out of prison as part of a plan to clear his name. While he stages a diversion so the rest of his ruse can take place, he has to choose which of his ex-colleagues he can trust...
The Good: As a crime/revenge thriller, it's competently made. Cryptic where it should be, tense where it should be. The characters are a little cardboard, but Elizabeth Banks, Ed Harris and Jamie Bell all make the best of a mediocre job, and in the final act, you do want to see the wrongs righted and the nasty people to get their come-uppance.
The Bad: Yeah, it's a little cardboard. But with a title that's second only to Snakes on a Plane for descriptiveness over creativity, that's not surpsising. Nothing about the film feels new at all, and it's pretty much a cookiee-cutter action thriller. It's not necessarily a 'bad' thing, but when the price of entry is £8+, you'll feel shortchanged.
The Ugly: Why to people keep casting Sam Worthington as an American character? If his backstory involved his being Australian, he could have stopped trying the accent (although it's debatable how much he was trying), and just got on with looking off a ledge and acting grim and earnest. I don't blame Worthington, I blame Asger Leth. As a director, he's well within his boundaries to stop everything and shout "You! Worthington! What in the name of flip are you doing? DO THE VOICE or you're SACKED!" or at least ADR the dialogue afterwards.
Worth a Punt? In the cinema? Not really. When it's on telly? Absolutely. The sad fact is that it could have been so much more enjoyable with a better male lead. Elizabeth Banks goes some way to making up for that, but the one-man characterisation-vacuum strikes again...
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• 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.
