Gary Ross's female-led heist spin-off is a movie saved wholly by the likeability of its players. An entertaining if unadventurous adventure, Sandra Bullock's plot to liberate an obscene quantity of karats from the Met Gala isn't let down so much by its overall predictability, but lack of any real third act, cliff-edge danger.
Plenty smooth but with absolutely no weight, this screenplay corners like it's on rails. Not as witty, zippy or smart as a cast the fantastic deserves (the writing and the editing, basically), the gang nonetheless give it their all and just about win the audience's trust in return. And fair play to the physical acting chops of Bullock and Cate Blanchett, each wearing so much foundation that I'm amazed we were able to see their faces move.
Thoroughly undemanding and 12A-safe, check your disbelief in at the foyer and you'll have a much easier ride…
The previous Ocean's movies, I shouldn't wonder.
I haven't actually seen any of them. No agenda behind that, they just haven't crossed my path. And with the best will in the world, that isn't something I feel I now have to rectify.
Well the distributor of this movie has lined up a selection of pre-film adverts and trailers suggesting they believe that every woman in the land will flock to the cinema to see Ocean's 8 instead of watching The Football™. Not a completely unfair assumption, but a pretty patronising one. And given that tonight's sizeable audience was around one-third guys, it's not entirely accurate either.
Stream it, or wait to buy until it comes down in price.
Doubtful, although I'm sure we'll have an interesting conversation about Cate Blanchett and Helena Bonham Carter's accents apparently being stuck in Shop Demonstration Mode™.
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.
Minions (3D)
Cert: U / 91 mins / Dir. Pierre Coffin & Kyle Balda / Trailer
I'll admit I was initially skeptical at the thought of the Minions Movie. As entertaining as I found Despicable Me 2, it just didn't have the heart of its predecessor, and a further spinoff smelled a little too much like cashing-in to me. There's only so many times you can return to the well, even in family-entertainment (especially in family-entertainment).
But I'm very pleased to say I underestimated Universal thoroughly, and while Minions still doesn't pack the emotional punch of the first movie, it more than bridges that gap with its comedy. 91 minutes of glorious silliness had the auditorium tittering, giggling and guffawing constantly (and we went to the latest available showing, so it was 95% adults). Rather than go the route of slapstick for the kids and edgier asides for their parents, Minions just goes full-tilt on making everyone laugh at the same sight-gags and goofiness throughout. The BBFC's U-rating description of Suitable For All has never been more appropriate.
The animation, sound and score are all as outstanding as you've come to expect with tent-pole releases such as this (because it's animation, the 3D is worth a gander as well), and for the most part, the voice-work is equally seamless. The only thing which pulled me out slightly was Sandra Bullock as super-villainess Scarlet Overkill; partly because as much energy as she brings to the role, I don't think she's quite right for it, and partly because her character feels unfinished anyway. But the main attraction here is co-director Pierre Coffin as the voice of Kevin, Stuart and Bob (King Bob), the minions themselves, bringing the lion's share of the laughs as they blunder from one scene to the next.
And because we're in prequel-territory, the film wouldn't be complete without a sizeable nod to the super-villain we're familiar with; I shall say no more. Oh, and yes, stay until the very end of the credits.
Sure, it's a kids' film. But if even a misanthrope like me can enjoy sitting in a packed cinema with everyone laughing around him, there's something in there for everyone.
You owe it to yourself to go and see Minions.
It is.
If you have younglings, this will be a buy-er anyway, but there's so much detail in there you're going to end up re-watching it yourself just to pick up all the Easter-eggs.
In terms of the animation team; it's up there with their finest. In terms of the voice-cast? It's good, but probably not quite their best.
Absolutely; more than.
I just might.
Inexplicably, no. Well I didn't catch it, anyway. Then again, I spent most of the film chortling, so…
Minions features the voice of Michael Keaton, who of course played the eponymous role in Tim Burton's 1989 Batman outing; a film which starred William Hootkins (Jek Porkins from A New Hope), Mac McDonald (an uncredited Rebel pilot in The Empire Strikes Back, and Billy Dee Williams himself (Lando Calrissian from Empire and Return of the Jedi).
BANG.
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.
We've all been there; Browsing in Blockbuster, the HMV sale or the bargain-DVD section in Sainsbury's, and we come across a plastic case which gives us an involuntary tingle of excitement. Someone's made a sequel to that movie we like! How did this slip under our radar? Why wasn't this on at our local cinema? Why are we only hearing about this now? Well, there's only one way to answer that question; it involves spending the requisite £3 and usually ends with the question 'Why did this get made, never mind how?'.
The rules for selection are as follows: 1) The film needs to be a poorly received sequel to a generally successful film (so no crap sequels to crap originals, and no crap remakes of originals), 2) Films from longer series are fine, but the choice needs to be part two of that line, 3) I'm not intending to watch any of the associated part-ones as part of this run (whether I'm familiar with them or not), so there'll be extra pressure on the crap sequel to work on its own terms. So join me as I delve into some of the crappest, most unwarranted follow-ups of all time (hopefully with a couple of underrated, misunderstood gems thrown in).
How bad can it be, right? I mean, the original was good…
#CrapSequels: Speed 2: Cruise Control Cert: PG / 125 mins / Dir. Jan De Bont
Year: 1997 (3 years after the first movie)
The general feeling: RT Score: 3% / IMDB Score: 3.7
This film was released in the same year as Good Will Hunting. Think about that for a second. The re-recorded 20th Century Fox fanfare tells you that something is deeply amiss here well before it slides into the ominous yet camp opening score, and we're dropped into the action as slick supercop Jason Patric plays second fiddle to a Ducati and Sandra Bullock provides a verbal catchup session interwoven with comic relief as she fails her driving test (even though there's nothing to comically relieve, yet*1). Anyway, nine minutes into the film and all the backstory you'll need is done and dusted; Bullock's Annie apparently has a mental age of 12 and is now seeing Patric's Alex (who has a mental age of 16), and they're off on a cruise. Because of… plot reasons? Cue shot of cruise-ship and jaunty faux-calypso music…
Well, the script is fucking atrocious, but at least Bullock seems to autopilot into it (which, in fairness, says more about Sandra's CV than her acting abilities); Patric manages to make dreadful lines sound even worse by apparently not having read them before the cameras rolled. And before eleven minutes are on the clock, Willem Defoe steps out of a cabin and announces himself as The Baddie™ by not smiling (other than the wry grin he sports when he's fiddling with a set of Bond-esque computer/bomb golf clubs, which also seem to be ideal for beating cabin-crew members to death).
And just when you think you're settling into the overbearing sub-standardness of the whole, torrid affair as Jason Patric practices sign language with a little girl in a clear case of The Screenwriter's Boomerang™, UB40 have a cameo appearance as themselves as the ship's entertainment. The 1992 horror flick Hellraiser 3: Hell On Earth had Armored Saint. 1994's comedy Ace Ventura: Pet Detective had Cannibal Corpse. So naturally, 1997 action-thriller Speed 2: Cruise Control would have UB40. This particular factoid serves as an allegory for the entire film. The one upside of this is, of course, that at least the deaf girl wouldn't be sitting listening to UB40. Every cloud…
And so Defoe's physically and psychologically unstable megalomaniac, John Geiger, then creeps around the ship, planting handily beeping bugs and setting computer overrides, from which point onwards it's Action Thriller By Numbers as nothing can stop the inevitable, horrifying collision between Die Hard and The Poseidon Adventure. Normally of course, you'd have likeable characters or a coherent plot to thwart the antagonist, but like I said nothing can.
The script drags its way through the three-act structure in exactly the way that a film with the word 'Speed' in the title shouldn't, and naturally is way too fucking long, with three apparent ending points; the last of which involves a speedboat, two jetskis and a seaplane. And an oil-tanker. I'd like to actively hate the film as much as the actual critics apparently do, but quite frankly I sat through worse in the 1990s, and I've sat through worse since. That doesn't change the fact that Speed 2 should never have been made, of course, but it should really have starred Seagal or Van Damme and gone nowhere near a cinema. Not utterly without merit I suppose, but loses a point for having characters frequently explaining the actions of a protagonist which they wouldn't be able to fucking see. And after all of that, the villain is brought down by his own poor driving skills, which could be irony but I wouldn't credit the film with that much self-awareness.
A d-list thriller with a c-list cast, the only thing Speed 2 should have powered its way to is the bottom shelf in a video-rental store. It's not that you want a cruise-ship full of holidaymakers to die at sea, it's just that there's a good chance they'd take UB40 with them, so…
I have not.
Yes, but not since about 1995.
Not really, it's largely the same as every other 90's action movie.
Director Jan De Bont has dragged back Bullock (obviously) as well as a depressing number of the first film's bit-part players for the land-based scenes.
Fuck, no.
If you're going to watch this, I'd advise being in An Advanced State Of Refreshment™.
Not that I heard, but I spent much of the film crying, inwardly at least…
But you know, don't you, you just know that the writers (all fucking four of them) thought of that title with a view to getting Tom Cruise on board? Come on, they're bound to have…
*1 Although by the time everything's gone tits-up on The Good Ship Lobotomy, Sandra's comic interjections arrive with the welcome appropriateness of a dick-joke at a eulogy...
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.
Gravity (3D) (Vague spoilers - maybe) Cert: 12A / 91 mins / Dir. Alfonso Caurón
It feels like it's been months that I've been seeing this trailered*1, yet no matter which version it was, I wasn't able to imagine how Alfonso Caurón was going to make a ninety minute film out of a singular incident. As it turns out, there's more going on than that; certainly in terms of the events on-screen, but also in terms of what the characters go through (in other words: astronauts plummeting to earth is what happens in the film, but it's not what the film is about).
In addition to a fairly linear plot, Gravity keeps piling on the metaphor: some of it gleefully in-your-face, some of it gleefully vague. For much of the film, even the scenes with immense tension, there's a sort of dreamlike feeling which is excellently realised, but kept me detached from the action, and to a lesser degree, from the characters themselves. As the film goes on, it asks lingering questions over the nature of memory, faith and reality, and it's an admirable step for Caurón's team not to answer any of them completely. A larger problem, for me, was that I thought some of the questions themselves were too vague, and having one or two more characters on (or even off) screen could have defined them more clearly.
Visually, Gravity is absolutely stunning. The 3D is used wisely and well applied, but it pales into insignificance compared to the zero-gravity effects work. My brain didn't doubt, for one second, that every floating, gliding and smashing object in this film was actually in space, to the point where I don't want to spoil the illusion by watching any making-of docs. The sound design works hand-in-hand with the visuals, making it the most believable space environment I can remember seeing on-screen.
As much as I enjoyed Gravity, I found the thoughtful, introspective film was often being drowned out by the movie about exploding space-stations. The two facets of the story didn't sit together as satisfyingly as I'd have liked, but they're definitely both required to prop each other up. I suspect I'll get more out of a second-viewing where I can concentrate on the quieter moments.
If you can cope with the claustrophobia of only having two actors*2 on screen, it's a fascinating ride. As long as you're not expecting Armageddon you shouldn't go too far wrong.
Sort of. And not really. Both?
Most of the time.
Almost certainly.
There is something magnificent about seeing this on a big screen.
No.
I will.
There isn't, but there are three instances of "I have a bad feeling about this". Personally I think that's too many, but you have to admire the commitment.
Can't ask the question I really want to ask without spoiling the film, I'm afraid. Once you've seen the film, hit me up on Facebook, and we'll talk.
*1 Although that's largely because it has been months. Way longer than most publicity campaigns.
*2 The few others don't really count. Come on, they don't really.
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.
Director, Paul Feig, coasts on the charm of Bridesmaids with a screenplay that Katie Dippold apparently wrote in her lunch hour. And if a hackneyed buddy-cop comedy wasn't going to be mechanical enough already, Melissa McCarthy is employed to do her thing of being hilariously obnoxious, then acting all hurt and introspective when her character can't shout/shoot/punch/swear her way out of a situation. But hey, at least no-one had to finish her part of the script; you can tell her improvised sections because she pauses awkwardly after a line, thinks of something funny to add, then ignores it and says something with 'fuck' in, instead. Again. If I wanted that, I'd go and watch a Danny McBride film.
But it's not all bad. Okay, it is mostly bad, but the chemistry between McCarthy and Bullock is good, and there are plenty of chuckles and a couple of guffaws. It just feels like a first draft; a scribbling of ideas and sketches. Even if you can trick your brain into accepting that McCarthy's Mullins could ever be a cop with the attitude and behaviour she displays, the film is littered with things that just make no sense…
• Why does Bullock's Ashburn need to 'trash-up' her outfit in the club? It's a classy joint, not a biker bar.
• Why would the bad guy Julian leave a knife sticking out of Ashburn's leg knowing that Mullins can easily pull it out?
• Why does a police officer with known insubordination issues and a criminal family have an unlocked refrigerator stacked full of illegal weapons in her apartment?)
…you get the idea.
That trailer contains a lot of the film's best jokes. It also contains ones which aren't in the theatrical release, either being swapped out for alternate takes (passing out on the pool table) or just cut altogether ("he'll shake it off"). I dread to think how much footage was filmed that didn't get used. There's a closer-scene before the main credits start rolling, but no blooper-reel, which seems unusual. That's the DVD extras sorted, I guess.
Marlon Wayans is underused. Tom Wilson is underused. Some of the gags work; the film doesn't. Your mileage will vary. Oh, and the Deee-Lite sequence in the bar is one of the most embarrassing things I have ever seen.
And Fox: I may not exactly be in McCarthy's fan-club, but she's a selling point for the film. At least have the decency to put her face on the poster, eh?
Yeah.
I chuckled at some things and winced at others.
Probably. That's the worst part.
Telly.
Yes.
Probably not.
Nope.
Have any of you got something else for Melissa McCarthy to do? Hollywood's running out of ideas.
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.
