Now, as some readers may recall, I wasn't exactly going a bunch on the trailers and previews for Sony Animation's new franchise-milker Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse. I like ol' web-head, although he's far from my favourite Marvel hero, but this looked like it was going to be a two-hour migraine. In fact, it's probably not unfair to say that the more I saw, the more cautious I became at the prospect of watching the entire movie. But I digress; to the pitch...
PARKER Teenager Miles Morales is struggling to fit it, both at school and at home. Bitten by a radioactive spider as he sprays graffiti in a subway, he meets Peter Parker and begins to realise he now has the potential to be New York's next superhero. But with Kingpin's subordinates attempting to build a machine which bridges alternate universes, a rift in the spacetime continuum causes other iterations of Spider-Man to appear in Morales' city. Together, the heroes attempt to destroy Kingpin's creation and return to their own realities before everything is ripped apart. But Morales has a learning-curve to climb first...
So, good things first. The film is ambitious both in scope and execution, an increasing rarity in the superhero genre as it becomes more crowded. As potentially confusing as the narrative is, everything is laid out clearly yet not over-explained, and the well-directed voice performances sell everything in between, so that even if the audience misses some of the minutiae, the emotion of each scene comes over neatly.
PENELOPE But. Into The Spider-Verse is, as suspected, a headache-inducing two hour funfair ride which feels like trying to burn out a fever by washing down bags of Haribo with Sunny Delight. Sony's handling of Spider-Man as a property has been 'scattershot' for a long time now, and this broad sweep feels like someone in an office calling down to the writing-room for brighter colours and more Easter Eggs, irrespective of what the movie might need.
The art-style and character designs are gorgeous, but let down by an ADHD approach to pacing and soundtracking, with distractingly framey animation. The film often looks like it's been rendered in 12fps in a bid to save time and money. And on top of the 100%-saturation palette, there's so much stylised ghosting and blurring, alternating between background and foreground objects that I genuinely kept wondering if I'd accidentally booked the 3D screening and walked in without glasses (alas I would have seen this in 3D, but the timings didn't work out now that cinemas aren't prioritising stereoscopic screenings any more).
Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman's screenplay is very self-aware, but in all honesty I think that DC's Teen Titans Go! To The Movies played the existential comedy card with more charm. And that's a sentence that me from twelve months ago didn't think I'd ever be typing (although Aquaman lands later this week so let's not get too excited, eh?).
GAGA I like that this is Sony playing with the multiple threads of Spider-Man continuity, but Spider-Verse doesn't so much tie those together as just point out that they all exist. It feels a lot like a feature-length pilot for a dimension-hopping anthology series, in which case it would serve its purpose very well. But I'm not sure how much a casual audience is going to get on with the intricate in-jokes and frenetic presentation.
All in all, Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse reminded me that I am a middle-aged man and that not all cartoons are made for me nowadays. Which is fair enough. The film's engaging enough while it's on*1, but I'm forgetting it already…
The business-end:
Is there a Wilhelm Scream? Not sure, really.
Is there a Stan Lee cameo? There is.
Is there a mid-credits scene? Nothing animated, but a great message.
Is there a post-credits scene? There is.
If you're going to watch it at all, go big or go home.
It is, but you won't get the full effect.
Which may not be the worst thing in the world.
I have no idea
Although while we're on the subject, it's nice that Nic Cage has now voiced a Superman and a Spider-Man, this year. This is a trend I hope and expect to continue.
*1 However you end up reacting to Into The Spider-Verse, boredom will be the last thing you feel. [ 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.
Because if an Oscar-winning actress like Jennifer Lawrence can cash cheques from YA cine-franchises, then there's no harm or shame in a talent like Chloë Grace Moretz following suit, right? An alien invasion (in the form of effects-budget-friendly body-inhabiters) sees Chloë star as Cassie, a normal teenage girl in a crisis situation, trying to be reunited with her younger brother as society collapses around them and Earth's last line of defence against a series of quasi-biblical plagues designed to wipe out humanity. She gets to watch a hot guy washing down his chest in a river, too, which I think is meant to represent hormones, or something.
Credit where it's due, The 5th Wave is a far better teen-adventure flick than it is a survival thriller (that's right Evan, if you're ever on the run, just start an open fire in unlit woodland at night, that won't give away your position in about a second). Because yeah, seasoned veterans of The Walking Dead (*raises hand*) will take issue with some of the strategic techniques used, and the story's "twists" are telegraphed from the first fifteen minutes of the film. All you can do after that is at least enjoy the movie for what it is.
It's an entertaining enough ride and certainly earnestly acted (although too much so, in the case of Maika Monroe) but there's no real depth to any of what we see (y'know, the extinction of humanity) and any message or subtext which manages to slip through the net of one author and three screenwriters is neither new nor unique, sadly. The 15 certificate certainly helps the tone of the film, but at its heart, this is a 12A (not that there's anything wrong with that at all).
You know Cassie's going to be alright in the end though, since the first act shows the 16yr old girl firing a Colt .45 for the first time using only one hand, and absorbing all signs of recoil effortlessly. That's survival skills, right there. And of course, no Sony movie would be complete without the obligatory product placement (this time for a cell-phone which the screenplay has already told us won't work again for the rest of the film), but we also get a couple of separate Spider-Man references, too. Y'know, in case you thought the studio had lost the web-slinger.
All things considered, human civilisation in The 5th Wave seems to be taking the unannounced arrival of an alien spacecraft and subsequent genocide of their species quite pragmatically; in any other invasion flick, it'd be absolute bedlam from day one. Although we only really see it affecting Ohio, so maybe they're all a bit more relaxed about the whole thing.
But hey, grumbles aside The 5th Wave is still better than Independence Day. And it's better than Skyline.
Although being stabbed repeatedly in the shins with a rusty cake-fork is better than Skyline…
Being shoved out at the end of January into not many cinemas, you might be lucky if you can find it (I only caught the film because I was in London).
Oh, probably.
It isn't.
I won't.
I didn't hear one.
Level 2: The 5th Wave stars that Liev Schreiber, who appeared in The Butler, as did David 'Kallus' Oyelowo.
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.
Sure, a true-story drama about the institutionalised cover-up of repeated and sustained child abuse was never going to be an easy watch, but having already sat through Ride Along 2 this week, I already knew which of the two was likely to be the more harrowing*1.
Spotlight is the story of a quartet of journalists at the Boston Globe newspaper in 2001, who uncovered systematic historical abuse complicity in the Catholic church. The subject is something that the cynical may almost take for granted now, but this is the point where it went from being rumour and conjecture to verifiable criminal activity. And yet curiously, the film is nowhere near as bleak as that sounds.
For such a sensitive subject, Spotlight is a surprisingly measured take, perhaps too much at times. The film is never mawkish or hand-wringing, but at the same time it also foregoes the righteous outrage you'd expect to fill the narrative gaps. In fact, it's not unfair to say (even if it sounds like an insult) that it's basically a made-for-TV afternoon drama movie which happens to have an A-list cast.
The extended timespan which the film covers also means there's a fair bit of skipping-over going on here, and as a result the team's painstaking investigation often appears to rely more on luck and assumption than on judgement and consideration. Although to be fair, the 'gut instinct' is probably just the difference between investigative journalism and a criminal investigation, and the film is certainly more about bureaucracy than it is conspiracy-theories; a slant which works both for and against it. But at its heart, Spotlight is a well-constructed film full of fantastic performances at every level. And the title-cards which close out the movie will chill you more than anything you've just watched.
And let's just take a moment to recognise that this collection of real-life superheroes fought crime and injustice with the aid of spreadsheets. Okay, I didn't see much in the way of rigorous data-analysis going on, never mind VBA routines or even conditional formatting, but they're on the right page. Or worksheet, if you prefer.
Although I still think that my version of the poster would have attracted a larger audience…
There isn't. It's really not that sort of film, y'know?
Level 2: That Michael Keaton starred in 1989's Batman as did Billy Dee 'Calrissian' Williams, William 'Porkins' Hootkins and Mac 'Rebel Pilot' McDonald.
Honestly, though. Who plays an un-named pilot in a Star Wars film? Everyone in those movies has a name, even if a lot of them are now 'Legends'.
How come Mac doesn't (seem to) have one, hmm?
*1 Yeah, I opened with a joke. Let me have that, at least. Although I'll be closing with one, too…
*2 And yeah, before you mention it, I did take Rachel McAdams out of the poster and replace her with Billy Crudup, yes. And I assure you it's purely because she hasn't been in any superhero flicks I could use the character from, but Crudup has. She's appearing in Marvel's Doctor Strange later this year, but there are no pics of her in that yet. So, to be clear, it wasn't sexism, it was practicality. That's all. Wow, you lot are sensitive…
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.
...oh, you didn't think that was my actual review, did you?
And so, January is here. In addition to the self-indulgent last-minute offerings for the Oscars, the traditional post-Christmas release pattern in the UK is for the fucking drivel the studios can't put out at any other time of year because they can't compete with mainstream blockbusters. And there are so many of those that January becomes the graveyard shift for movies. And 2012 is no exception.
Goon is weak. How weak? Look at the poster up there. Go on, click on it and have a look.
Imagine you're in charge of the UK marketing for this one. An also-ran ice hockey comedy starring That Stiffler. I'm not saying that no-one in the UK is into Canadian Ice Hockey, but it is, at best a minority sport. Add in the cinematic qualities of this particular gem, and your only real hope is to market it for the violence. Hence the poster-quotes from Loaded, Nuts, and some website I've never heard of*1. So, apart from the barrel-scraping demographic they're aiming at, even the people who "loved" this film could only bring themselves to give it 4 out of 5. Talk about damning with faint praise.
As for the film itself, as my other*2 review said, it's not really about ice hockey, and even though I know next-to-nothing about it, I get the impression that it's about as faithful to the game as Jurassic Park is to genetic research. The opening act seems to zip by (presumably) months in Doug Glatt's life, where a guy who can't skate somehow gets a place on a hockey team. The main thread of the film comes in fits and starts as we stutter over Rhea's 12-match (ie 12 week?) suspension. Glatt's family are seemingly abandoned half way through the film, and Jay Baruchel's Pat only returns because Baruchel co-wrote the film and wanted to get his face in at the end.
Seann William Scott does bring some charm to the film, but I've seen that so many times before it doesn't really matter any more. Shcreiber's nowhere near as aggressive or wily as his character requires him to be, and he just seems bored for the whole thing. Everyone else stumbles through and phones-in performances, including Eugene Levy as Jewish Dad™, and Jay Baruchel as Swearing, Excited Geek™.
It's not consistently funny enough to be a comedy, and there's not enough feeling for it to be a drama, even when the blood's spraying across the ice. I can imagine it going down slightly better with an actual hockey-crowd, but for the UK market, this should have been straight-to-DVD.
It's not the worst thing I've ever seen (and I'm sure I'll see worse this year), but if you get anything of substance out of it, I salute you.
*2 No offence to heyuguys, I just really haven't heard of you. I'll check you out but, y'know. I only wish you'd been brought to my attention by being quoted over a better film. *2 It was a piss-take. Don't quote me on the fucking DVD packaging.
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 organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
And so, January is here. The traditional post-Christmas release pattern in the UK is for the more worthy films to be aired just before the Academy Awards ceremony in February. With the festivities and their associated blockbusters out of the way, now is the perfect time to see actual film at the cinema, and 2012 is no exception.
With Goon, director Michael 'Take Me Home Tonight' Dowse brings us a tale of self-discovery and cameraderie, with the rough-and-tumble of Canadian and American mainstream sport as a background rather than the focus, per se. In many respects, it owes a lot to Rod Daniel's 1985 piece, 'Teen Wolf', with the many individual matches themselves being shown purely from the protagonists viewpoint, and often in a few minutes or less.
Sean William 'Dukes of Hazzard' Scott brings the role of Doug Glatt to life. Glatt finds his way from casual door-security work, onto the professional ice hockey circuit, not by being a gifted player, but rather by virtue of his talents as an enforcer, or the titular 'goon'. His mandate within the squad is to keep his violent counterparts on the opposing team in check. A role which he relishes at first, but with which his character struggles when he begins to extend into actually playing hockey, only to be reprimanded by his own manager and more sportingly talented teammates.
Indeed, this struggle is only one of many as Glatt is something of a lost soul, looking to find his raison d'etre. Raised in an orthodox Jewish family, the film paints him as almost an outcast from the offset, with his parents struggling to accept his job first as a 'bouncer', and later as a hockey player (in fact, the thread with Glatt's parents is never quite resolved in the film, making the dénouement particularly hollow).
Elsewhere, tensions rise within the team as Marc-André 'The Chameleon'Grondin plays Xavier Laflamme, the golden-boy of the team whose own focus and determination on the ice is slipping, and is taking out his frustrations on Glatt, whom he holds partially responsible for his waning star. A particularly touching scene sees Glatt making his peace with his enforced flatmate Laflamme whilst talking through an adjoining wall, reminiscent of two characters talking whilst in neighbouring prison cells. Of course, up until this point, the characters had been in cells, albeit of their own psychological making. Similarly, once Glatt moves north to join the Halifax Highlanders, a romantic interest emerges in Eva, played by Alison 'Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen' Pill, who is similarly confused with her position in life. The two disparate souls are brought slowly together, each being an antidote to the weaknesses and damage in the other's psyche. A particularly poignant touch from the director is the scene they share in Eva's car, with the snow outside representing her crumbling reluctance to commit to a relationship with Glatt, and the plastic cherry suspended from the rear-view mirror representing his implied virginity.
And finally, we have the St John's Shamrocks enforcer Ross Rhea, courtesy of Liev 'Mixed Nuts' Schreiber. Rhea spends most of the film as an observer, having been suspended for gratuitously violent conduct. We see Glatt's rise to fame from his eyes as he studies the matches which take place in his absence, knowing that their paths will cross eventually. Like the best grizzled old pro's, Rhea knows the time will soon come to hang up his boots for good, and it is the culmination of Glatt's story and Rhea's career that brings the film to its heart-stopping climax. As I intimated earlier, the film is less about ice hockey, and more about the violence that accompanies it. Blood is spilled frequently throughout the film, but always sparingly, save the final showdown between the last of the old generation, and the first of the new.
Each drop of blood that hits the ice is a metaphor for tears, sweat and dignity. Ice hockey is portrayed as a sport that is less about numbers and points, and more about agression and raw, primal truth. Goon isn't quite perfect, but it's a thoughtful reminder that the same can be said of any one of us. With determination, we should all strive for the goals within our reach.
I shall be sorely disappointed if The Academy fails to recognise the haunting and touching contributions that Scott, Schreiber and Grondin have made to celluloid.
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 organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
*2
