Review: A Haunting In Venice

A Haunting In Venice
Cert: 12A / 103 mins / Dir. Kenneth Branagh / Trailer

There are few images which evoke a perfect combination of civilisation and tranquility like the waterways of Venice, so it's not altogether inapt that we drop in on that city in a post-war setting as the celebrated detective Hercule Poirot is trying his best to adapt to a life of gentle retirement.

As for the haunting? Well, he's trying, that is, against the wishes of a subconscious still struggling to deal with psychoses from the world war before the recent one, followed by a civvy-street occupation that's involved being perpetually surrounded by All Of The Killing. It's no surprise that our hero's sense of reason is on the verge of collapsing. When Poirot attends a Halloween party in a palazzo reputed to be home to dozens of vengeful spirits, it makes for an uneasy evening. And when a visiting medium is murdered following an after-hours seance, well - that makes for a typical one...

STRING

And so to the third in this (frankly) troubled string of Kenneth Branagh's interpretations of Agatha Christie's Belgian sleuth. I won't waste space here listing their particular failings, only to say that I approached this film with slightly more dread than was probably intended by 20th Century Studios. I don't necessarily consider myself as a Christie Purist™, but I also don't enjoy watching demonstrably inferior versions of the stories I love.

So I was more surprised than anyone when I found myself rather enjoying A Haunting In Venice. The story is a (very) loose retooling of 1969's Hallowe'en Party, but uses this more as a broad inspiration rather than source-text. And because of that distance between the novel and the screenplay, this has far more of an identity than the previous entries. There are far fewer 'small' inconsistencies to get caught up in when you're watching events unfold essentially for the first time.

EVERYTHING

Hildur Guðnadóttir's score, Haris Zambarloukos' cinematography and overall production design are firmly on the film's side, all managing to make an isolated, decaying multi-storey mansion still feel atmospherically sumptuous. And speaking of atmos, the sound editing appears to have been taking lessons from the school of Blumhouse for its deathly silences and subsequent jump-scares. That said, in terms of actual chills this is still more effective than most of the straight-up horror flicks of recent times.

Performances of the comparatively (and thankfully) pared-down ensemble cast are solid all round, even if they feel a little televisual in their melodramatic angst. Although with the very best will in the world Branagh's central turn is the weakest aspect of the whole thing (it's like he's hoping the audience will just accept him as Poirot through repeated exposure, rather than any persuasive craft on his part). We're three movies in and the man still sounds like he's auditioning for 'Allo 'Allo.

And if that's not enough to raise a smirk, there are enough high ceilings and falling chandeliers here to suggest that the palazzo isn't actually haunted, it's just got the Trotter family running about in the attic...

ONCE

Ken's Poirot movies have always worked best for audiences who are able to 'un-remember' previous versions of the story that's being told. A Haunting In Venice is no exception, and wisely assists the viewer by largely being its own - very respectable - thing. If this series is to continue (and it will, whether we like it or not), the way forward will be writing wholly original stories using familiar characters. Absolutely no shame in that, and far more scope for creativity.

Apart from anything else, you really have to admire the chutzpah of budgeting for a Venice location shoot and basing your PR around that, then having 95% of the movie take place indoors, at night, while it's raining too hard to see the scenery in the occasional cutaway exteriors.

Ken got his holiday, I see...

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.

Review: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Cert: 15 / 112 mins / Dir. John Requa & Glenn Ficarra / Trailer



I don't always see films in which A-Ha's Take On Me is sung badly by one of the male characters, but when I do, I like to watch two in the same week. Mind you, the same also goes for Martin Freeman struggling under the weight of an accent that's not his own, so Whiskey Tango Foxtrot makes that a double occurrence, too. Especially since Freeman's also the one making Morten Harket spin in his premature grave…

This adaptation of the bestselling memoirs of TV war-correspondent Kim Barker goes the classic melodramatic route of peppering its first act with gags and witty asides, largely to be used as a direct comparison against the third act where all the drama and poignancy is. The problem is that WTF is neither as funny nor poignant as it'd like to think it is, and that's underlined by Tina Fey and Margot Robbie over-acting in almost every one of their scenes. Although the situation in Afghanistan was (is) extreme, gallows-humour requires a delicate touch, and there are many gradations of drama/comedy required in the emotional roller-coaster which is 'the modern war film'. While Fey/Robbie certainly don't de-rail that roller-coaster, their performances are either on one or ten, leaving it to the supporting cast to fill in the blanks. It also doesn't help that Tina Fey has a habit of pulling a comedy-face after delivering each joke*¹; you can take the girl out of SNL…

The film works on a bare-bones level, and I did care for the characters (even the aforementioned Martin Freeman's one, despite his vocal performance being a needless insult to Scotland), but I always felt like I should be caring more, somehow. I get the impression that a documentary on Kim Barker's work would be far more affecting, not least because it wouldn't feel the need to try so hard.

While Whiskey Tango Foxtrot skilfully (and thankfully) avoids flag-waving, the film struggles with the humanitarian side of modern warfare, which is pretty much its sole remit, when you think about it.

Co-directors John Requa and Glenn Ficarra do their best of making unlikeable characters valued and unbearable situations compelling, but I can't help feel that a lot has been lost on the journey from page to screen…

Self-indulgent drama like Burnt.



The cinema's not going to be essential to enjoying this, no.



Personally, I don't think so.
Although I seem to be in a minority.



No, everyone on-board here has been more focused in other movies.



Probably not.



Definitely not.



Level 2: Alfred Molina turns up in this, and he was in Raiders of the Lost Ark along with that Harrison 'Solo' Ford chap...





And seriously though, look at that…


Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Seat F14. Bastards.
I saw five movies that day (a new personal record), and all I wanted was seat F12 for my Cineworld Ticket-Stub Bingo win. But not only was that seat taken when I booked, the guy was already in it when I got into the auditorium. The only person in there. Doing a crossword, of all things. Like the fucker had been parked-up all day*², just so that I wouldn't win the prize.
What an absolute bastard.
Because my showings were so close together, I couldn't book them all online as the system classes anything starting within 45 minutes of the previous film as 'overlapping', so only the on-site staff can over-ride that. You can't plan this shit, you know; you only win Cineworld Ticket-Stub Bingo with a combination of luck and skill.
I've heard the prize is fantastic, although no-one there will tell me what it is.
But I suppose there's always next time…


*¹ Although Fey's to-camera mugging pales in comparison to the 'Kabul's first female driver' spot, in which she watches the joke occur and then literally explains to the audience why it's funny. And unlike a Stewart Lee routine, it's not given any new level of nuance by this happening.

*² He hadn't, obviously, as I'd seen Angry birds in the seat between us both not half an hour earlier. But still.

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.

Review: Sisters

Sisters
Cert: 15 / 118 mins / Dir. Jason Moore / Trailer



A patience-testing, spirit-sapping Universal Studios autopilot, first-draft, by-the-numbers, shout-fest; hurled out of the project-development suite and left to fend for itself in the theatrical wasteland which is 'not Star Wars' in a desperate attempt to claw back some stray revenue from the 2015 holiday season; produced and performed by two comedians who appear to love the sound of their own voices far more than they favour script editorial meetings, and who even seem embarrassed to deliver their own ad-libs - a feature necessitated by them working with only half a script full of enforced wackiness, laboured shrieking and tissue-thin sentiment; the kind of film which begins with a comedically snooty character being made unexpectedly wet by a lawn sprinkler, and ends up with Dianne Weist dropping the C-bomb for no other reason than securing the film an edgy 15 certificate.

A comedy movie for people who enjoy neither comedy, nor movies.

In short, it's not, actually.



£3 bargain-shelf DVD. Which you then give to someone else, unopened.



No, and that's the most insulting thing. Both Poehler and Fey are far better than this, yet they helped create the damned thing, it's not like they're just using it as a vehicle. But y'know what? I'm an equal-opportunities comedy-snob, so more power to them. Because if Will Ferrell and Kevin Hart can get away with trotting out shit like this, I see no reason why the ladies shouldn't undermine their own careers in exactly the same fashion…



Be a boost to egos of its two stars? I imagine it does.



*head*
*desk*
*head*
*desk*.



Not that I heard.



Well, Amy Poehler performed voice-work for Free Birds, as did George 'Lok Durd' Takei.







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.

Review: Muppets Most Wanted

Muppets Most Wanted
Cert: U / 113 mins / Dir. James Bobin




There's a moment in the opening musical number of Muppets Most Wanted where an arch comment is made about sequels usually not being as good as their predecessors. This glint of self-awareness is about as clever as the film gets, unfortunately, and everything that follows only serves to underline the point. It's not that the movie is bad at all, but it's certainly lacking the spark that can make the Muppets so much fun to watch.

And that, for me, is the main problem I had: for all the mayhem, singing, shouting and general slapstick, I wasn't feeling the fun. The plot, revolving around a Kermit-lookalike and a series of art/jewel robberies, often feels lazy, as do a lot of the performances. There are chucklesome gags and strong setpieces, but it's not go-to-the-cinema-for material. Outside of Ricky Gervais, Tina Fey and Ty Burrell's plot-specific parts, there are a myriad cameo appearances which you get the impression are the result of beleaguered showbiz managers being badgered into calling Disney to ask for spots for their clientele. A few of these work quite well; the rest are as inconsequential as in the last theatrical installment.

And that, for me, sums up the film. Light, inoffensive, and thoroughly inconsequential. There's no shame in a movie ticking those boxes, but it should really have gone straight to DVD.

Muppets Most Wanted certainly feels like it's been made with a lot of care, just not much love. The work that was done in 2012 to reinvent the franchise seems to have come to naught, as it slips firmly back onto the rails which saw it lose steam to begin with. This outing will keep the younger audience happy enough, but there's little there for anyone else.
Muppets: you're better than this.

Mmmmm.



Sometimes.



In all honesty, it probably does.



DVD, tops. You can safely wait until it's a fiver, as well.



No.



Not out of choice, but I probably wouldn't switch it off.



I don't think so, but it wouldn't surprise me if one was buried in there.

Did anyone else leave with the feeling that maybe Celine Dion doesn't get the joke?

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.