Greed Cert: 15 / 104 mins / Dir. Michael Winterbottom / Trailer
Five days before his 60th birthday, boorish retail magnate Sir Richard McCreadie (Steve Coogan) is overseeing preparations for a lavish party on Mykonos. A coterie of minions and hangers-on surrounds him including his mother (Shirley Henderson*1), current partner (Shanina Shaik), ex-wife Samantha (Isla Fisher), son Finn (Asa Butterfield), PR Manager*2 (Sarah Solemani) and personal assistant Amanda (Dinita Gohil).
Also lurking in the background is Richard's hired biographer Nick (David Mitchell), tasked with chronicling the great man's success story. The problem is that the more people Nick meets, the harder it becomes to write anything nice about his subject...
MISH And what an almighty mess this film is. No, seriously. Greed should, by all accounts, be a story uncovered for the audience by the on-screen author. Instead we just get a mish-mash of everything. He's a writer, so somehow we get talking-head cutaways from a completed mocumentary as well as his own amateurish cam-footage. The film opens on the day of the party before flashing back to five days earlier, then we get more flashbacks and flashbacks-within-flashbacks until it becomes unclear who's telling each segment and what the point of it is. The fast cuts are migraine-inducing, even outside of the stylised montage sequences.
As well as the incoherent editing, we get a number of sketched-in subplots. An Oedipus thread with Finn and the building of a plywood amphitheatre are at least fitting for the storyline, as are the Syrian refugees living on the beach next to Richard's party venue. But the constructed-reality show being filmed on the island featuring McCreadie's daughter Lily (Sophie Cookson), other than bumping into the refugee story, feels like it's been dropped in from another movie. When there's A Message to convey, Greed is very on the nose. It also keeps forgetting there's a message.
The film either employs improvised dialogue shot on a first take to increase spontaneity, or Michael Winterbottom is actively directing his cast to talk over each other with no natural end-point to each scene. It is intolerable that this left the editing room.
MONSTER The real shame is that there's a fantastic cast here, all of whom have been much better elsewhere. Even Coogan struggles in a role which feels like it was written for Sacha Baron Cohen. His central figure should be an absolute monster of a man. Clearly - CLEARLY - a composite of around 15% Alan Sugar, 85% Philip Green, McCreadie is a character we already know on an instinctive level before the opening titles have even finished. But for all the bull-headed excess and yelling at subordinates, Coogan plays him pretty much as his own Gareth Cheeseman character from the mid-90s, with a little bit of Del Boy swagger and a few cracks of awkwardness mined from Alan Partridge. IE three comedy characters. Two of whom are his own. No drama.
Coogan forgets to be unlikeable or Winterbottom forgets to direct him as such. Quite possibly both. So when the film's climax comes lumbering into view, what should be a shocking, even sobering, moment instead means... *checks notes* NOTHING. I spent more time wondering where they found the CGI budget than I did empathising with Amanda*3.
PIEAND Because in its final moments, the film suddenly grows a conscience, lecturing its audience with captioned statistics on global inequality and the fashion industry, as if it's taken anything else seriously in the preceding 100 minutes. While there is certainly a point (indeed A Better Film) to be made, this is cack-handed frowning like that time Russell Brand pretended to be outraged that a cleaner doesn't earn the same money as a CEO, despite the two having completely different jobs and responsibilities*4. The whole thing is painfully wearing.
Is Greed a raucously sharp comedy? Is it a thought-provoking satire? Or is is it just an ADHD mood-board, a prolonged elevator pitch thrown together by a sleep-deprived first year film student, the cinematic equivalent of being yelled at for 100 minutes?
Michael Winterbottom doesn't know, so why the hell should we?
I was going to throw on an extra point for the bit with James Blunt because that was good, and then I decided not to because the rest of the movie isn't good enough to have earned that one, brief high-point.
*1 What the fuck accent is Shirley Henderson meant to be doing in this film, though? Anyone? She's normally great. The characters here say she's Irish, but it sounds like the Belfast suburb of Cardiff. Much like Jude Law's verbal wrangling in that submarine movie, I suspect the accent is either a very specific regional twang that she knows intimately from relatives across the water, or she can't do it at all and has opted for Shop Demonstration Mode. [ BACK ]
*2 This isn't me being rude by the way, if I haven't named a character above it's because those aren't recorded on the film's IMDB or Wiki pages. [ BACK ]
*3 Because with the best will in the world, it's not McCreadie's fault that Amanda's aunt died in a fire at another factory because she was sacked from McCreadie's supplier weeks earlier. A fire in the original factory, if they'd had to cut safety measures because McCreadie was driving down costs elsewhere? McCreadie's fault. Malnutrition or illness from working long underpaid hours at the original factory? McCreadie's fault. The original factory being struck by a meteorite while her aunt was working a shift? Not McCreadie's fault, mate. The fire could have happened anywhere. Remember this is fiction, Winterborrom. You have the absolute power to make these things link up into a coherent narrative.[ BACK ]
*4 Y'know, as if when Russell did his Arthur remake, he got the same salary as a 17yr old who spends the day bringing everyone coffee on-set. [ 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.
Oh, ITV called. They said their Sunday night schedules are full for the foreseeable wondered if you might like to try the cinemas instead? Besides, they're probably going to need something to show over a week on the single screen that isn't running back-to-back Avengers…
ARRESTED So we open circa 2000, with the slightly curmudgeonly Joan (Judi Dench) being arrested on historical spying charges following revelations arising after the death of a government minister. As Joan is interviewed, we see her past as a wartime communist sympathiser unfurl in a series of lengthy flashbacks at Cambridge University and the Ministry of Defence, in which she's played by Sophie Cookson.
Now, since this is all based on a novel which is in turn inspired by an actual case, the immediate pitfall is one of maintaining dramatic tension when the audience could know how it plays out. Joan maintains her innocence throughout, on a moral level at least. But the problem is that the film is called "Red Joan", so we know she did it. To make matters worse the first act tells us how and even why she did it. All that's left for the following hour is a checklist of events which have been telegraphed from the word go.
I know little to nothing of the actual political machinery around and following the Second World War, and even I found this to be simplistic and heavy-handed.
PERSONAL Dame Judi does quite well for a performance which is essentially a series of very short monologues with people watching. But perhaps crucially, Old Red Joan never actually narrates or even presents the Young Red Joan segements - these are sparked in her memory by facts read to her by the police. As a result, the other half of her performance is essentially reaction shots.
Cookson has more to work with and comes out of the whole thing better, but it's an inescapable fact that she doesn't look like a young Judi Dench (even though her vocal mannerisms are spot on). It's not just a matter of the latter's outstanding career history, she's long since passed the line where she can disappear into a character. No matter how good Judi Dench is, you never forget you're watching Judi Dench™.
What's more odd is that Sophie Cookson often carries an air of Keira Knightley in her more animated performances. Not that there's much potential for character flashbacks there, of course.
THIRD-STAGE DISCIPLINARY HEARING With a theatrical name like Trevor Nunn helming proceedings, I'd been woried this would be quite a stagey affair. And while that definitely comes through with Dench's present-day (or as close as) scenes, the past-narrative is almost completely televisual. And not great, dynamic, better-than-its-ever-been television, just very ordinary Sunday night fare.
The story as it stands is now two decades old, and this telling doesn't seem to take any risks or challenge its audience in any way. You have to wonder who Red Joan was really made for, other than being a shelf-warmer in the £3 section of Asda's entertainment section.
Stream it, tops. Or wait for it to be on telly since that's clearly where it belongs.
It is not.
That's possible.
There isn't.
Level 2: Sophie Cookson was in that Kingsman film, with Mark 'Skywalker' Hamill, Sam 'Windu' Jackson, Ralph 'Garmuth' Ineson and even Geoff 'Frobb' Bell.
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.
Having left Matthew Vaughn's follow-up spy caper to breathe for a couple of weeks, I found that my enthusiasm for the sequel wasn't diminished exactly, but I didn't really get anything 'more' out of re-watching (in much the same way as the film doesn't really add anything more to the first movie), especially with the more critical eye that a second-pass always brings.
Kingsman: The Golden Circle is far too long; not necessarily in run-time, but in the sheer number of 'boss battles' in the third-act. Taron Egerton and Colin Firth only really succeed here by building on the character foundations of The Secret Service, whereas Julianne Moore is doing her damnedest to pour two pints into a role which can only hold one. And Mark Strong can barely speak in that Scottish accent, let alone sing in it*1. The film is frequently derivative not only of itself*2, but also of other works in the superhero genre*3 from which it borrows, stylistically*4. The gender politics are still broadly worrying given the female input at the screenwriting stage*5, and the script's approach to arbitrarily killing off characters becomes an emotional anaesthetic in the first act*6.
But I still enjoyed the hell out of it. The Golden Circle does a lot of things it really doesn't need to, but I don't believe it does anything it shouldn't...
The film-makers are banking on you having watched and enjoyed the first Kingsman movie.
If you can, do.
The film doesn't aim particularly high, so pretty much yeah.
It's not.
I won't.
There is, it's buried in shootout outside the diner.
*2 Using drugs as tampered-with conusumer-products is effectively a criminalised equivalent of the SIM cards from the first movie, especially when the film then starts pleading the moral innocence of casual users. [ BACK ]
*3 This is a superhero movie, but with spies in it. Nothing wrong with that, but that's what it is. [ BACK ]
*4 In addition to point one, the 'mass hostage' angle is a fairly direct play on Tim Burton's 1989 Batman with the Joker holding Gotham's citizens to ransom using compromised toiletries and cleaning products. And it's not as if an ally from a first installment has never come back in the sequel, brainwashed by an enemy organisation and with a cybernetic arm. Surprised they didn't call him The Summer Soldier... [ BACK ]
*5 While it's become the elephant in the room elsewhere, I think 'the tent scene' with Eggsy and Clara is just unnecessary, rather than outright malicious. It's certainly no worse than many of Bond's bedroom moments, even if it's more direct in its approach. But since the sequence only serves to demonstrate that Eggsy is genuinely committed to Tilde, it's a long and arbitrary way of doing so. All Clara herself there for is to provide a tracking-link to the secret lab in the Italian Alps (where she's later killed on a whim anyway). That could have been sourced a hundred other ways; no-one had to get fingered for Poppy's base in Cambodia to be finally located... [ BACK ]
*6 We don't really see people actually dying in Poppy's multiple missile-strikes of course, but since Harry previously took an on-screen shot to the eye and still came back, the dramatic weight of the bloodless UK assault is reduced to more or less nothing. If Harry can be resurrected, so can Roxy who we only saw legging it off the bed as the missile approached. Lead-lined fridge for the threequel, anyone?[ 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.
I'll keep this short and sweet. You've probably arrived at this review with two questions. The answer to your first is 'yes, very much'. The answer to your second, 'of course not, how could it be?'.
The eagerly awaited followup to the 2015 hit, Kingsman: The Golden Circle knows what made its predecessor work and knows what made it falter. Screenwriter Jane Goldman returns with writer/director Matthew Vaughn, and they use this knowledge wisely to tiptoe around audience expectations. Set around a year after The Secret Service, the story sees Kingsman™ intelligence agents Galahad (Taron Egerton) and Merlin (Mark Strong) teaming up with their American counterparts Statesman™ led by Champ (Jeff Bridges), to stop a crazed entrepreneur (Julianne Moore) killing vast swathes of civilisation with poisoned recreational drugs. Other characters from the first outing return, but to go into that would be to unfurl plot points, and this is a spoiler-free joint tonight.
Now, the good news is that the cast (reprising or otherwise) are all largely on great form, and the issues which hampered the previous movie don't really apply here (and 'that troublesome line' gets a reference at a similar point in this film which is laugh-out-loud funny, at least). The action is slick, the language is foul, the CGI is better than last time and the shell-casing count is off the chart. The Golden Circle is a very enjoyable flick. And be warned, it's also another one for this year to bow at the altar of John Denver.
But at the same time, there are far more moments in Vaughn's sequel than you expect than ones you don't. It never becomes a flat-out retread, but much like GotG2, it's impossible to top the unique buzz of an unexpected hit when everybody's looking forward to your follow-up, especially when there are the requisite number of callbacks to be made anyway.The story serves as a solid continuation of the events we witnessed last time, but brings nothing in the way of new toys to the sandbox.
But when it comes down to it, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is smart, fun, genuinely touching in places and more than acceptable in the cinematic roller-coaster which is 2017. Just temper your expectations and you won't go too far wrong…
Kingsman, pretty much.
If you're going to watch it at all, watch it big, yes.
I'm not entirely convinced at this point that the film knows what it wants to achieve.
It's a more-than-passable sequel however, so let's go for a yes.
It's not.
I won't.
Didn't hear one.
Level 1: This film's got Sam 'Windu' Jackson in it, albeit very briefly and in a flashback sequence. Still counts, though.
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.
When I was four, I wanted to be Mark Hamill. Well, I wanted to be Luke Skywalker, but the two were indistinguishable at that age, and remained so for some time. Whether it was the loose-fitting desert tunic, the pristine stolen stormtrooper armour or a heavy-drill orange flight-suit, these were outfits I wanted to wear, to be like my hero. Forty years later, I watch Mark Hamill in this movie*1, an appreciator of fine whisky in a brown corduroy jacket… and nothing has changed.
Anyhow, from the mind of Mark Millar comes Kingsman: The Secret Service, the comic-book roots spawning a perfect cinematic mashup of spies and superheroes. After its original run two and a half years ago, revisiting Eggsy's first outing on a big screen doesn't really deliver any new or prescient insights, it's just bloody good fun still. Back in 2015, this felt like it could be the first charge in a new wave of action cinema; not so much re-inventing the wheel, just reminding you how cool the wheel can be when it's done right, although tonally we haven't since had anything comparable other than Deadpool and maybe John Wick.
Absolutely perfect in its pacing and approach, this is the classic Hero's Journey for the 21st century. While Colin Firth, Mark Strong and Sam Jackson are all great value for money, Taron Egerton holds the whole thing together effortlessly, suggesting that he's going to be a (welcome) fixture on our screens for many years to come.
It's perhaps notable that the film which ran tonight was the original cinematic print, rather than one of the edited versions that later hit the home-release market. Fair play to 20th Century Fox*2 for sticking to their guns with that one, I suppose; it passed classification once and there's no point being defensively revisionist about it, right?*3
But all in all, this is amazing. And the church-scene is still one of the greatest action sequences ever committed to film. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a thing of profane beauty…
Oh but for the record, you do realise that even if the gun is loaded with blanks, you'll still be looking after a deafened dog for the rest of its traumatised life, don't you? Well done Caine, now get back in your bloody attick…
As fantastic as the movie is, probably not, due to the strength of the talent involved.
Nope.
I'm not hearing one. Help me out here?
Level 1: This film's got Mace Windu and Luke Skywalker in it of course, but as of December last year, Lt. Frobb from off of Rogue One is there, too.
*1 Although this time Mark is the tutor, and it's Taron Egerton who gets to shoot white-armoured troops while running around polished corridors in an enemy fortress to rescue a princess. Boom.[ BACK ]
*2 It hasn't escaped my attention that in Harry's office, all the front-pages he has on display are from The S*n newspaper, owned by one R*pert M*rdoch, the same tycoon also owns 20th Century Fox, this film's distributor. And sure, this could be a coincidence, until you get to the sequel film in which all news-bulletin reports (even ones taking place in the UK) are branded as F*x News, also owned by… well, you get the picture. And as much as I try not to let my political affiliations colour either this blog or my cinema-viewing in general, I'd be lying if I said that didn't leave a slightly bad taste in the mouth. [ BACK ]
*3 Knowing I'd be writing separately about The Secret Service, I went back over my two previous reviews in 2015 to see what I'd covered at the time. I'd forgotten quite how annoyed I was by the film's gender politics. Not necessarily how shoddily the female characters are treated (cf. most other screenplays, ever), but how that's come about when the rest of the movie is so consistently strong. Let's just say that while I still genuinely love the first Kingsman flick, I stand by every single word I wrote about its flaws.
[ 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.
Five days before his 60th birthday, boorish retail magnate Sir Richard McCreadie (Steve Coogan) is overseeing preparations for a lavish party on Mykonos. A coterie of minions and hangers-on surrounds him including his mother (Shirley Henderson*1), current partner (Shanina Shaik), ex-wife Samantha (Isla Fisher), son Finn (Asa Butterfield), PR Manager*2 (Sarah Solemani) and personal assistant Amanda (Dinita Gohil).
