Inception

Christopher Nolan’s imminent return after The Dark Knight has manifested itself in a completely new film, which embodies and fuses the blockbuster scale of his Batman franchise with the psychological headfucks of Memento. Inception is his new baby, before he endeavors to finish the Batman trilogy and throw his hands at re-boosting the Superman franchise. However this summer’s blockbuster is an animal of an unforeseen nature. Without laying danger to the follies of hype, Inception is arguably the greatest piece of film-making of the 21st century. I would argue that only The Matrix (the first one I mean) had the same affect on me, the power to completely revolutionize your perceptions of everything, to not only entertain you more than any other rival action or comedy film, but at the same time take you on tour de force of the history of modern philosophy at the same time.



Nolan first started writing Inception around the time of his under-rated feature Insomnia, in which he became fascinated with the idea of lucid dreaming and the fundamental questions that dreams made us question about the nature of the human mind and reality. However, Nolan knew that to dream big on this scale and honour the stories requirements, he would have to wait. This is by no means a small scale film; in fact both aesthetically and cognitively this is perhaps the grandest canvas of film-making up there in cinema history. There has been talk that Nolan is the new Kubrick or Scott, but I like to think Nolan is just the new master of cinema, he is more Hitchcock in his methods, and yet the result is something you would expect from Spielberg and Lucas and more.


Narratively, it is very difficult to actually explain to someone who hasn’t seen this film what is actually about, which I think is integral to its beauty and attraction. In simple terms ( if that’s at all possible) the premise is that Leonardo Dicaprio’s character Dom Cobb is a dream thief, a specialist spy who has the ability to enter your mind and either extract or plant information through the medium of the subconscious. Dicaprio and an ensemble team of experts join together for one final mission, which proves to be make or break. All the odds are against them and if they don’t succeed its game over. That’s about as much as can be given away or explained of this ingeniously original and complex screenplay. Dicaprio offers one of his most challenging yet rewarding performances yet and acts the emotional catalyst throughout, forever sustaining the audience’s interest and compassion. He is also joined by a host of incredible talent, coming from the likes of Ellen Page, British Newcomer and one to watch- Tom Hardy, Joseph Gordon- Levitt, Marion Cotillard, and the standard Nolan crew of Michael Caine, Cillian Murphy and Ken Watanabe. Furthermore in addition there is an unexpected but ultimately brilliant casting choice of the long lost Tom Berenger.


Where in the lies the true mastery or sorcery of Inception is its ability to almost transform as a remarkable example of any genre. It cannot be defined, I mean at a push you could say it is a multi-layered science fiction heist action blockbuster peppered with comedy and brutal drama, o and least I forget perhaps the most audacious and enthralling story in the last decade of cinema since its principal influence and main source of inspiration The Matrix. It’s funny, it’s sad, it’s cool, it’s beautiful, its slick, its breath-taking, it hurts your head, it pumps adrenaline into your heart, it entertains, it stimulates all spectrums of the IQ, it captivates your attention and does not take any mercy on you, it surprises, it twist and turns, it bends and collapses, it forces you to become part of it and until you cannot resist. Also for such a complicated piece, it never for one moment becomes too indulgent or hypocritical, its tempo is just rite like a fat bass beat, it’s so smooth you could just listen to it on loop. It’s just got the perfect equilibrium of everything to make everything work. You’re never quite comfortable enough but then you’re never bored enough or confused enough to even begin to be distracted or discontented. This film will not let you do anything other than be sucked it and spat out.


Inception offers some of the truly finest action sequences I have ever experienced, up until the point where you just can’t take it; it illustrates some of the finest uses of C.G.I since The Return of the King. (Although Nolan remains old school in that he deferred from the use of 3D or Imax technology and the over use or ease of use of too much C.G.I in favour for expensive and realistic constructions and explosions like the Ice Fortress). One of its central themes is an emotional journey into one man’s ability to cope with madness and death, playing on the notions of loss and the effect it has on the psyche. Or perhaps just an educated disposition into the principal hypothesis of Descartes body of work- Cogito Ergo Sum- I Think Therefore I am. No wait perhaps just a true understanding and exploration of Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams and the hallucinogenic nature of lucid dreams or a psychological investigation into the world of dreams as either a metaphor for reality itself or this just socially accepted journey into hedonistic and ludicrous dimensions of madness and beauty that we all collectively embark upon every time we close our eyes.


Nolan’s fundamental message here I believe is that anything is possible, but even without a central thesis or framework of intelligent ideas, Inception would still be a masterpiece, in that it offers anything you could possibly want from any film, also without revealing anything, one of the most finest endings I have ever witnessed, leaving you tantalizing useless and in sheer awe of what you have just been subjected to. Inception is truly in the face of all post-modern criticisms and the suggestion that originality is dead, and that everything is a re-hash or interpretation of everything else. This is truly original and pure, yes heavily inspired and resting on the shoulder of giants (perhaps mostly Wachowski giants) but none the less a completely fresh experience and tale of its own, further experimenting and fucking with your world. This is Nolan’s Bond film, his 2001, his Blade Runner, his Matrix, taking the best of Memento and The Dark Knight to create his Guernica, his Sistine, his Fifth symphony and cementing him and his film into history. If you have any interest in the experiment that is film what so ever, you will do yourself a favour and see this film, if not don’t worry son.

Robin Hood

Robin Hood is the setting for the latest marriage between the omniscient Ridley Scott & omnipotent Russell Crowe. It is the couple’s fifth outing together and first for Crowe in the producers seat. The premise for this reunion was to pursue a reimagining of the infamous English folk legend that is Robin Hood, a story which seems to permeate throughout the ages in countless incarnations. This interpretation proves to be worthier than most but however feels quite flaccid in comparison to previous Scott- Crowe offerings such as the mighty Gladiator.



It was dubbed ‘Gladiator with arrows’ but despite its obvious similarities it is quite a different beast altogether. This latest feature is directed towards American families and the summer block-buster market to generate much needed revenue for Hollywood in a period of economic uncertainty. The 12-A classification is testament to the creative sacrifices that Scott has traded for fiscal prosperity. Unlike its Roman predecessor, Robin Hood is quite a desperate and unfortunate cut and paste production. Originally helming from a CSI: Investigation script-writer, the script was bartered and battered amongst the movie moguls until Crowe took the incentive to get Ridley on board. It quite sadly had all the promise to be a masterpiece, considering these two chaps had pulled it off before, why couldn’t they again?


The story of Robin Hood is as famous and as important as King Arthur, Beowulf or even any Shakespearian tale, and yet even which such fruitful material, it has never been properly translated onto celluloid. This version does however offer some strong performances from the likes of Cate Blanchett as a strong and sexy Lady Marion, Oscar Isaac as Robin’s putrid nemesis King John, William Hurt as a very convincing member of the English gentry, Danny Huston as a memorable Richard ‘The Lion heart’, the charming as ever Mark Addy as Friar Tuck, the serpent yielding Matthew Macfadyen as the Sherriff of Nottingham & finally the gloriously memorable Max von Sydow as Sir Walter Loxley. Collectively offering solace to an otherwise wooden script and numb performances from Crowe and especially and surprisingly from Mark Strong as Sir Godfrey, King John’s henchman and English traitor (surprising in that Strong has proved to be very consistent in various recent films such as Kick-Ass & Sherlock Holmes).


Furthermore, despite the fact that Crowe believes he doesn’t have to act anymore to warrant a good film and that Scott is making films as far removed from Alien, Blade Runner or Gladiator as he possibly can, believing that his vision must still be as worthy. It’s a case of two men who have had tremendous success and deservingly so, but are now satisfied and respect each other so much that there is no tangible bridge between director and lead man, there is no conflict of interest, it’s all plain sailing and as such so is the emotional depth of the film. The absence of violence is especially noteworthy, obviously a notable sacrifice for its all friendly money-making rating, but also makes all the battles and conflicts redundant and therefore begging the question why bother in the first place?


However, despite many flaws there is some magic here; Scott is still unrivalled in creating that dirty yet funny medieval English landscape, from the meanderings of the nobles to the tricks and trades of the peasantry. The plot is solid enough if not completely historically inaccurate, but Robin Hood is supposed to be cocktail of historical relevance and fantastical idealism. There are some prominent socialist motifs to the ideology, which are only dealt with sparingly towards the end in which annoyingly is so self-obsessed and self-constructed to setup the film for another money –making sequel, that this has become a notable disease of the industry, fully evident in the recent travesty that was Iron Man 2, in that the filmmakers and studios are so interested in setting up franchises that they cease to concentrate on the project at hand which has led to a paramedic in the notion of a blockbuster but is perhaps fittingly reminiscent of our buy it now 3D HD twitter mentally oscillating culture.


Despite all this, this film is littered with strong performances, idyllic settings, a magnificent aesthetic creation of middle aged England, memorable and comedic characters, also with all seriousness aside, there is a strong sense of play throughout which offers a nice addition to the down and dirty conflicts. However the pros do not outweigh the cons. The choreography is so shoddy it’s like watching a music video on ecstasy, there is no room for the audience to advocate any particular side or understand what is actually happening. The settings are perfect, but the execution is pathetic.


To conclude, Scott & Crowe really missed the bull’s eye this time round, Gladiator was a masterpiece in film-making, forcing you into the belly and guts of the Roman Empire, Robin Hood is a less than adequate ok feature for the summer, with some moments of clarity but ultimately a vision of irrationality, there is such potential and yet we witness such failure, perhaps second time round they will get it right and create a masterful and memorable Robin Hood rather than a flaccid and soulless one.

Brooklyn's Finest

Brooklyn’s Finest is the newest delivery from Training Day director Antoine Fuqua, which follows that contemporary idiom of following numerous stories that throughout appear unrelated until the ultimate climax. Films such as Paul Haggis’ Crash displayed this creative format and managed to successfully interlink all of the characters life’s into a believable dichotomy. However the tag line for this film is simply ‘This is Brooklyn, This is War’, and with such premise we are presented with three very different police officers in the form of Richard Gere, Don Cheadle and Ethan Hawke, and follow the unique ways in which they tackle the crime epidemic within their city. The script was written Michael C. Martin, a subway flagger from Brooklyn who successfully secured industry interest and saw Brooklyn’s Finest venture forth to gain momentum at 2009’s Sundance Film Festival.


Antoine Fuqua took the director’s chair in his first outing since 2007’s mediocre action flick Shooter, almost on the presumption of re-creating his masterpiece of 2001’s Training Day, or at least that is the feeling one gets when bearing witness to the same direction but just in different locations, (not helped at all with the casting of Ethan Hawke in more or less the same role as before). Additional support comes with the surprise return of the illustrious (tax troubled) Wesley Snipes, in a role that is acutely perfect for him. As Wesley provides the main support, the principal protagonists are equally shared with Richard Gere’s seven days from retirement cop, who spends his spare time snorting coke and fucking hookers aside from turning a blind eye to almost all crime around him and failing to show rookie cops any kind of guidance in the treacherous conditions of Axl Roses’ coined ‘Jungle’. Gere’s said performance is especially memorable, as it marks a completely different direction to his previous incarnations.

Furthermore, Don Cheadle provides a very solid performance reminiscent of his in 2008’s stomper Traitor, in which he plays the good cop entangled in undercover operations with a daily taste of the very things he is secretly fighting against while simultaneously trying to balance the ruins of his once normal life and his allegiance to his street comrades. Ethan Hawke adds a further dimension with his every man character that is willing to take advantage of blood money in order to help his family and his mounting debts. Hawke, as always delivers a passionate portrayal but unfortunately not as convincing as his previous displays in Training Day or most notably in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. However, a certainly sustainable enough delivery to add another slice of corruption to the films satirical and seedy nature.

Brooklyn’s Finest unfortunately proves to be Brooklyn’s ok-est. It draws great parallels on last year’s Pride and Glory and previous Harsh Times, in its gritty look at the criminal under-belly. New York especially is an ever endearing climate for the investigation of criminal activity as L.A proves to be. The climax of which is although predictable, a very engaging piece of bloody adrenaline fuelled danger displayed on screen. There are certainly merits to both the direction, acting, story and it’s no bull-shit attitude in tackling notable issues of police corruption, reflecting a perhaps social critique of the real-life internal affairs dealings with certain police departments in recent years, and successfully tackles the notion of what it means to be a police-officer, that you have to break the law to uphold it and what moral connotations this evokes for society and its rules.

In conclusion, Brooklyn’s Finest is by no means the masterpiece of its predecessors; however it is engaging enough to serve as a decent addition to the crime genre, which is ever expanding and enriched with all sources of dramatic, political, psychological, religious, philosophical, instinctual and social relevancy. It has its holes throughout and is by no means perfect, but is still sharp enough to command your attention and gut in its blood-soaked cynicism. A palatable and distinguishing average watch that serves as two hours well spent.

The Horseman

At the 2006 Queensland New Filmmaker Awards, a short film was entered by Writer/Director Steven Kastrissios in competition for the Best Independent Drama award. This particular little piece managed to not only win such award but in doing so secured the creation of a feature film which subsequently became 2008’s The Horseman (Aussie slang for the workman and a title not to be confused with the Four Horseman of Dennis Quaid). The story follows Peter Marshall as Christian, a father who has recently lost his only daughter under horrifyingly violent circumstances and as such seeks to find who is responsible, while simultaneously coming to terms with the loss of his child. Christian finds solace in an unexpected encounter with a similarly troubled young woman in the form of Alice (played by Caroline Marohasy). The pair embark on a trip of immeasurable destruction that will change both of their lives forever in the long search for answers and justice.


The Horseman is through and through Steven Kastrissios’ baby, as writer and director; this film is his debut and yet proves to sustain a consummate equilibrium between gritty amateurism and refined expertise. With flawless determination and execution Kastrissios directs as if it was himself who has lost a child, piercing the audience right into the heat and heart of every breath and punch Christian lives. This is only excelled tenfold by an astoundingly brilliant performance from protagonist Peter Marshall, who manages to deliver a lead performance to rival any Norton or Bale. This film is Australia’s answer to Shane Meadows’ Dead Man Shoes, a sequel to Chopper and tribute to The Magician and yet it is far better than all of them. However In addition to the violence, there is a strong metaphysical and touching undercurrent throughout, in it’s conveying of friendship and in its unconventional meditative pace which makes it stand out as a unique revenge thriller with a dramatic potency.

There is one scene in particular, (which I shall not name for the sake of those who have not yet had the extreme pleasure of seeing this film- all I shall say is the two brothers), in which whether you are man, beast or robot you cannot help but be affected. The sheer courage and illustration of the events in which we are shown are unlike anything else seen before. This cannot be labeled as a mere slasher movie, as it would be the equivalent of naming the Sistine chapel as a sketch. However this is the most violent film I have ever encountered and I like Japanese cinema! But it is never violent for the sake of being violent; it is never soppy or silly. It never goes near the realm of action films like the great Arnie; it is in a whole other league, a one which films such as A Bittersweet Life, A History of Violence and American History X touched upon, a truly realistic and gritty portrayal of the clumsiness and adrenaline of violence in man.

This film managed to turn my stomach through every emotion I believe I have, I was a prisoner to the screen as I could not help but be both physically and mentally engaged in every facet of the story and the characters necessity for not just revenge but closure and comprehension of the truly disgusting events in which he has been subjected to. It is not a film for the weak hearted or minded, as it has no problem in telling and showing it how it is, I am quite surprised that the usually conservative B.B.F.C allowed this to be shown, as it is nightmare for people who do not understand intelligent violence and its complete necessity for the purity of the medium. However Kastrissios should be awarded for his insanely genius direction in creating scenes in which the audience feels as if we are there, or at least watching genuine police footage of such events, which manages to bring a whole new level to independent film-making, in which amateur hap-hazard shoddiness feels a million times more real than the elaborate façade of hair and makeup Hollywood action.

Furthermore, The Horseman is not for everyone, it is unashamed to convey the truest of evils of human nature; it refuses to apologize for the subject matter and the restrictions of society in its dealings with taboos. There is one unfortunate but yet memorable scene involving a football pump and a mans genitals but still even that never feels corny or stupid, it has been moulded in intelligent hands and crafted in such a way that keeps your adrenaline and suspense at maximum throughout, and as such it is perhaps one the greatest of achievements in cinema that I have ever seen and should be mandatory viewing for anyone interested in the fragility, vulnerability and brutal circumstances that humanity can manifest itself in.

The White Ribbon

Das Weisse Band, Eine deutsche Kindergeschichte or to translate The White Ribbon is the latest offering from Funny Games man Michael Haneke. The film is set upon the eve of the First World War in a microcosmic northern German village in which Haneke utilizes his settings to comment on the psychological nature of the impending events and of society in itself. Essentially the story follows a group of families and how they inter-relate with village life together until a series of sinister events begin to upset the balance of their society. Haneke has claimed the film to be about “the origin of every kind of terrorism, be it of political or religious nature” and as his previous efforts such as Cache, Funny Games & the Piano Teacher have shown, Haneke never fails to interrogate the most taboo of subject matters with a virtuosity and delicate sensibility that ultimately makes his storytelling a completely human and compelling incarnation.


Having beaten off stiff competition from the likes of Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, The White Ribbon won 2009’s Palme d’Or at the 62nd Cannes Film Festival and further won the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film, and along with two further Oscar nominations, Haneke’s disturbing offering seems set to lead the way for World Cinema this year. There appears to be always one major international non-English film that grabs both the critics and audiences attention alike around the award season, before it has manifested with the likes of The Lives of Others & the City of God, and with this tradition continuing to prosper, it has become a staple genre and worthy category in all contemporary accolades. This is of course is an extremely positive accountancy, as foreign films can often supersede the likes of Hollywood with innovative and refreshingly original ways of film-making. The White Ribbon is certainly and deservingly prominent in this categorization.

The child actors in this film are collectively the principal antagonists, they pose the greatest threat to the fellow villagers, and yet none of this is certain, we are never shown anything, every single facet is surrendered to our imagination, leaving this film to be uniquely subjective in its room for interpretation. Haneke never dictates to you what he wants you to think or feel, he lets you decide, however every aspect of the script, casting, acting and cinematography is so zealously crafted that the intelligence of the film-maker permeates our sub-consciousness and we are ultimately forced to surrender under Haneke’s vicious and sordid spell. Haneke has almost taken the role of a magician in that, doubt is the only the certainty throughout, that we are teased with the notions of what we believe to be true and yet are never allowed to indulge. Nothing is handed to the audience, you have to work for it, and this is a rare and welcomed commodity in film-making. Hollywood is increasingly guilty of forcing everything down our throats, so much so that we have become numb to even the most extreme of issues. Haneke, however, understand the necessity for subtlety, that less is indeed more.

Furthermore, this film manages to actually make you both physically and mentally uncomfortable; it is so unnerving in its hitchcockian direction that it is impossible to not be intrigued and completely captivated in the every aspect of what you are experiencing. There are some less intense offerings in a display of some genuine and funny touches from the film’s narrator and a charming side-plot love story that manages to fluctuate around the meanderings of the principle hypothesis. However, The White Ribbon is one of the most accomplished and terrifyingly horrible films you will ever watch, without ever showing one drop of blood or psycho. Haneke is almost pornographic in his storytelling and yet paradoxically void of any aesthetics responsible for such connotations. This film manages to convey everything with suggestion without ever letting up its secrets.

In conclusion, The White Ribbon is not for intellectually challenged people or for those of you that crave Sarah Michelle Gellar’s latest attempt at remaking Japanese horror classics. This is horror of the truest nature, a film that manages to scare the living shit out of you without ever showing you anything. The horror lies within yourself and your interpretation of the events. It draws great parallels with Lars Von Trier’s Dogville in its meditation and assessment of the dark side of human nature. Haneke’s black and white drama has proven to be a true piece of art and an example of complete mastery of the medium, it is not easy viewing and it may take numerous viewings for it to digest but you will be rewarded as you enter Haneke’s misanthropic nihilistic and furiously existentialist contemplation of the nature of the human condition.

Avatar

The word on everyone’s lips (apart from those cynics of you out there) at the moment is Avatar, James Cameron’s first feature film (aside from numerous documentaries) since that little number about a boat, which most people haven’t heard of. Cameron claims to have started work on Avatar as early as 1994, and instills that cinematic technology had not begun to synchronize with his epic visions until recently with breakthroughs in the capabilities of C.G.I. This film is entirely indebted to computer generated imagery, although it is not its sole achievement, it is by no means a one trick pony in that the performances, the craftsmanship, the direction, the story, the music, in fact almost every aspect of this true modern masterpiece is so meticulously and beautifully fashioned that is impossible to be without awe of such creative production. Cameron has obviously more than proved himself in the past as up there in the elite club of Kubrick, Scott, Lucas and Spielberg with the likes of Terminator, Aliens, The Abyss & Judgment Day to name but a few.


The ‘blue man group’ world of Pandora sets the stage for the latest slice of Cameron’s imagination, where we follow Aussie newcomer Sam Worthington (from Terminator: Salvation) as Corporal Jake Sully, a disabled marine who upon his brother’s death enters the Avatar program, which allows a human being to be physically and mentally transformed into a synthetic version of the native Na’vi tribe. The film is set in a completely fictional world of 2154 in which humans are desperately attempting to conquer other worlds and find a new home. The Na’vi represent a problem for the expeditions necessary to human resources and so conflict becomes inevitable; the Avatar program is designed to set about diplomatically negotiating a solution. However, as we learn things aren’t what they seem, and Cameron takes us on a wonderful journey of exploration that is quite unique in both its inception and deliverance.

Support comes from Cameron’s Aliens muse Sigourney Weaver, The Fast and the Furious’ Michelle Rodriguez and the terrifying Men Who Stare at Goats star Stephen Lang as the principle antagonist. All of which, offer solid performances that although over-shadowed by the sheer aesthetics of Pandora, still ground the story with a much needed display of humanity in a very alien situation. Avatar has now officially beaten Cameron’s previous 1997 Titanic which was the world’s most successful film ever made. No other film-maker in the history of the medium has ever been more bankable than James Cameron, to have two films that together finance the surplus for the industry alone is unheard of and yet has happened, and yet completely and deservingly so. It is all too easy to be cynical and jealous of such extreme success, however, it is conjured and embodied in such an audacious mix of fun and sheer amazement that people cannot help but be cast by its spell, as the number of bums on seats and made evident.

To try and dissect Avatar or even really review it, is quite a hard task in itself as so much of its charm lies in the subjective experience of what you see. It is unlike any other film, in that it is the visual experience that is most exciting and yet it has enough gravity in emotion and philosophy that it creates a perfect equilibrium and social dichotomy. It can be seen as an American critique of imperialism and as a comment on global warming. It can be put in a historical perspective and be seen as a look at both America’s bloody genocidal past and that of any other Empire. It is reminiscent of Mel Gibson’s Brave heart in parts in that it invites the audience to advocate the underdog and play upon the other side of the story, the persecuted. However, it is never too judgmental and preachy, in that it is first and foremost a science-fiction film, an adventure, of course subject to a metaphorical nature but at its heart just a grown mans computer game.

Avatar is up for numerous Oscars as well as already having received various awards internationally, it seems it’s a commercial studio film of the most mammoth kind that is digestible for both critics and audiences alike. There has been little criticism, and if any usually of a very infantile nature as there isn’t really any fruit in negativity towards this remarkable expedition in what film making is capable of. Film is first and foremost a medium invented to expand our horizons and possibilities of suspension of disbelief, that instinctual necessity to require a story, from the raconteurs of cave-men around a fire to the studios of C.G.I multi-billion dollar Hollywood, at the end of the day we just want a damn good story, lots of highs and lows, lots of oos and ahhs, characters to believe in, people to champion, heroes to emerge, we want to cry and laugh, we want to be impressed and ultimately we want escapism. Cameron is now the master of escapism, the single reason the cinema has survived if not profited from the recession and will continue to prosper.

Avatar is quite simply brilliant, if you have no time for science fiction, blue people or any kind of computer trickery, than you are pretty much on your own out there, there is so much to this film, the whole family can gain something from such an experience, it is heart-warmingly funny and will ignite that childish charm and excitement by making the hairs on your arms stand to attention. It is some of the finest action sequences every cinematographically crafted, using truly the latest technological achievements to their fullest abilities, a world away from the likes of Godzilla. It has a career changing performance from Sam Worthington; it is revolutionary in its transition from 2D to 3D film viewing, and its creation in a new realm of C.G.I acting. It has a solid and compelling story which everyone can relate to, it sustains enough emotional investment for it be multi-layered rather than an elaborate computer outing and yet there is something totally unique and amazing about the fact that they pulled it off and that is has the effect is has. If at first you are skeptical, just watch it and keep quiet, as for those 162 minutes you will become Avatar.

Invictus

Invictus bears its name from a William Ernest Henley poem, which Nelson Mandela (the former President of South Africa and humanitarian inspiration), reflected upon every day of his 27 years of incarceration on Robben Island, furthermore it draws it subject matter from John Carlin’s seminal book Playing the Enemy: Nelson Mandela and the Game That Changed a Nation. The spaghetti man himself, Mr. Clint Eastwood is behind the camera, showing the world once again that he is more than capable. Eastwood’s directorial fruits appear to have first flourished with 2003’s Mystic River and followed suit with the likes of Million Dollar Baby, Flags of Our Fathers/Letters from Iwo Jima, Changeling & Gran Torino. This film however, is set at the time of the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa, at the very inception of Mandela’s historical presidency, following his release from imprisonment and the end of apartheid. Eastwood’s creative trajectory is proving to be as unpredictable as ever, in that despite his rich iconic past, he has re-invented himself again and again with films that challenge various taboos and issues in the expedition of compelling film-making. Invictus is no exception.


‘Madiba’ is played by the perfectly casted Morgan Freeman, which although a predictable move, Freeman never fails in both his conviction and deliverance. Freeman not only looks like Mandela but as a method actor communicates all the mannerisms that we have come to love about the man himself. The only depletion being that his accent tends to stray from Nelson to ‘Shawshank’ Freeman, but however such imperfections help to ultimately compliment rather than denunciate this Oscar worthy performance. Tremendous support comes in the unexpected form of Matt Damon as Francois Pienaar, Captain of the South African Springboks national rugby union, unexpected in that Damon provides a performance that is completely unfamiliar to his usual ‘Bourne’ identity, and as such provides another insight into what we first saw with Good Will Hunting and more recently in The Informant. The two share an onscreen presence and relationship that provides further gravity to an already integral piece of work.

Cinema has not reflected upon the monumental story of Nelson Mandela too often, the reasons for this are unclear, however there has been Billie Augusts’ Goodbye Bafana and a notable TV execution called Mandela and De Klerk with Sidney Poitier portraying the great man. Eastwood’s film is the first of its kind, with Hollywood tackling the troublesome issues of South Africa’s recent history. Mandela himself has seen and congratulated Eastwood for this adaption and it manages to convey the significance of the political and social climate dictating the consensus at such a vital time in one man’s life and career, the film manages to convey a strong sense of urgency in the fundamental issues over-shadowing the presidency at this time and the opposition Mandela faced in his support for the Springboks (since it was the purest representation of apartheid).

Freeman’s Mandela declares in a pivotal scene in a meeting with Damon’s Pienaar, the two men at the fountainhead of such troubles, that Henley’s Invictus taught him “stand when all he wanted to do was lie down”. Eastwood balances the personal struggles and challenges of Mandela’s newly democratically elected government with the responsibilities and ramifications of a rugby tournament as though the two were the same, and in doing so, demonstrates the significant time of fragility that Mandela’s nation was facing in light of past events and a look to a completely uncertain future. Invictus has been labeled as a rugby film, and although rugby itself does take up quite a large portion of screen time, it is the metaphorical nature and temperate of its institution and legacy in relation to the affirmation of a new nation in which the story lies, the struggles of one nation and what two leaders face in order to step forward from the troubles of the past and this is so delicately and astonishingly conveyed that it can be seen in every throw and kick of the breath-taking adrenaline- invoking climax of one rugby match where the fate of the nation rests upon the outcome.

However, such investment in just one of many factors is not fully historically faithful, but none the less shines a refreshing light into an issue that would perhaps be easily forgotten. In addition one cannot help but feel that Mandela is easy pickings for the Oscar season at its weakness is sensationalist humanitarian plights, however Mandela and apartheid is by no means an easy task to tackle and Eastwood as does such with a respect and contemplation that is deserving of any accolade.

If you’re a rugby nut then there is plenty in this for the sport spectator, but this film should not be stereotyped by the means as to which is conveys its message, it is a strong and intelligent reflection on what history has taught us and the troubles humans have brought upon themselves. For anyone who is void of apathy should seek Invictus for vital viewing in understanding what troubles the world has faced and still faces today.

Up in the Air

Juno & Thank you For Smoking extraordinaire Jason Reitman has created with his most recent offering Up in the Air, a marketable philosophical critique of modern consumerism which is both studiously funny and virtuously attentive throughout. Already in receipt of and nominated for a multitude of accolades and awards, Up in the Air has proved paradoxically and simultaneously to be both a cult and critical box office smash hit, breeding buzz and momentum from the offset, George Clooney’s predominant deliverance has once again managed to solidify his position as not just Hollywood royalty but the indie man’s champion. Over the past few years Clooney has made a conscious creative effort to stay on top of his game, even if that means rejecting big time contracts in favour of a great scripts like Good Night, and Good Luck, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Michael Clayton & Syriana, however he has successfully balanced such work with a sustained body of box office artifacts with the Oceans Trilogy and the occasional Rom-com for good measure. Furthermore, such cinematic equilibrium has constituted an event to look out for when Clooney is flying high and especially when he is allowed the creative freedoms to flourish.


In addition to George, support is offered with the dangerously sexy Vera Farmiga as Alex Goran, (Clooney’s troublesome love interest) and newcomer Anna Kendrick as Natalie Keener (Clooney’s nemesis but ultimately priceless companion). Both women offer substantial on screen presence and surpass the urge to just perpetuate the plot; they prove to be the antithesis and antidote to Clooney’s clean cut social secularism and sleek business doctrine. This is though, both Clooney’s and Reitman’s film, as the latter not only directs but produces and co-wrote as an adaptation from Walter Kim’s 2001 novel of the same name. The direction appears so effortlessly sharp in its cut and paste technique, never quite allowing you a chance to get bored, as it propels from one airport to another drama, the film is shot and edited to ensure invest-ability of both characters and ideologies. Ideology being the key word as behind the dramedy surface lays an underpinning of post-modern nihilistic existentialism (if that isn’t a mouth-full enough).

The film follows Clooney as Ryan Bingham, a ‘career-transition counselor’ essentially a down-sizer, the man who is contracted to fire you, which isn’t such a smooth calling in light of the global recession, which this film very delicately plays upon. Apparently the production was under-way and then altered for accountability of contemporary events, in that Reitman ensured to show the plight of real people and the effects of epidemic unemployment and fiscal catastrophe. This is of course a particularly sensitive subject as millions of people world-wide are losing their jobs for no other reason than there isn’t a job to do anymore. Clooney’s Bingham has perfected the art of firing in offering his victims an epitaph of textbook bull-shit with lines like “Anybody who ever built an empire or changed the world sat where you are today”. Bingham appears to have no conscience of the effects of his work as he revels in the airport lobby lucrative isolation of constant domestic travels. Unlike most people’s life goals of say marriage and kids, Bingham craves the Holy Grail that is the 10 millionth flyers- miles executive membership card. Reminiscent of Martin Amis 1986 novel Money, Reitman’s film celebrates the relics of consumerism as a substitute for emotional attachment as is so perfectly demonstrated in Bingham’s free-lance motivational speaker job where he proclaims “How much does your life weigh?”

Up in the Air is literally up in the air out there in the stratosphere of a transitional life of balancing work with play and family. Bingham is forced back to the ground with a reminder that he isn’t alone in the cold and calculated world of business when his remaining family offer him a wake-up call. The philosophical idioms of the script, play exceedingly well with the charms and allure of a George Clooney, which allows a platform for both punctuating comedy and dramatic realism, however for all the accomplishments of this film, it fails to properly tackle some of the issues it raises such as the suicide of some of the people on the receiving end of Bingham’s rhetorical rigour and a true examination of the ramifications of corporate down-sizing and increasing impoverishment, as such films like Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story tackles. But however, this is a dramedy not a documentary, and so it is a playful as well as serious critique on western gift shop philosophy, the importance of human relations and the effects of business as usual.

If you’re after intelligent comedy balanced with effective drama as a side order to a main serving of a metaphysical post-modern critique of the contemporary western condition then Up in the Air is just right for you, it can be enjoyed as just a stand-out performance from Clooney, a quirky and inventive comedy about the subtleties of human relationships or perhaps as something more lofty which might require to pause for moment and ponder the above.

Edge of Darkness

Mel Gibson’s welcome return to acting has manifested in 2010’s Edge of Darkness, a film adaptation of the successful 1985 six part BBC television series of the same name. Both versions have been directed and produced by Martin Campbell & Michael Wearing respectively. Campbell especially has demonstrated a rich history in dramatic action film making with his Bond heritage (Director of Golden Eye & Casino Royale) which he utilizes to his full advantage with this fresh endeavor. The cast is meticulously chosen with Gibson taking the lead role of Thomas Craven, a Boston homicide detective who bears witness to his only daughter’s mysterious murder. Our very own Ray Winstone appears as a government operative responsible for cleaning up the mess, and last but not least the principal antagonist comes in the form of X-Men: Wolverine’s Danny Huston as the C.E.O of North Moor, a government defense contract agency which Gibson uncovers bears more than its fair share of responsibility.


The original series had the fortunate pleasure of music being provided by the genius that is Eric Clapton, and in addition played upon and drew from environmentalist James Lovelock’s ‘Gaia hypothesis’ which postulates that the Earth is a single oscillating organism. This American studio adaption has left behind such idiosyncrasies in search of political thrills and invokes copious parallels with Kevin MacDonald’s State of Play (also adapted from a previous BBC series). However, this offering does hold water in that Gibson has joined the directorial wilderness for the past eight years, proving like Clint Eastwood to be one of the most vital contemporary directors in Hollywood with the likes of the hugely controversial but integrally inspiring The Passion of the Christ & Apocalypto. But Gibson’s return comes in a tour de force stipulating connotations of his previous performances in Payback and Ransom. He has always been more than solid and innovative lead man in pretty much any film that comes his way, and as a result this story has a heart and if you climb through the layers of ‘American Bullshit’ you will find an enjoyable ride worth taking.

Campbell’s direction is sharp and will keep you on the edge of your seat, especially in some scenes where he excavates that perfect equilibrium between a long meditated scene into sudden chaotic madness when you least expect it. The film also attempts to remain realistic with Gibson after having a fist fight with a potential suspect has to take a time out to get his breath back and sweat all over the gaff. The film is littered with moments like this, proving that perhaps Gibson had influence in the creative decisions, as he comes away from this as triumphant and rightly so. There are however, great problems in this fast paced and expensive way of film-making in that it’s like an excited American kid trying to tell you everything in a couple seconds without slowing down, too much information is presented to the audience for them to digest and we are then expected to know every angle of what is yet to unfold.

Furthermore, there lies a great twist towards the end, which was a special delight as sometimes you do not come to expect such a luxury in this modern market of Hollywood predictable dominance. Ray Winstone especially delivers a perfect counter balance to Gibson’s man on a rampage character, in that their encounters provide some much needed humour into the script. The political ramifications of this film appear to be a contemporary comment on the state of American domestic and international defense relations, and the usual stab at government corruption and scandals. This plays well as it offers an interesting insight into the entanglements of a proposed ‘Big Brother’ state. However, the main drive of this film is in its tag-line when Gibson’s fellow policeman says to him ‘You should keep safe, these men are armed and dangerous” in which Gibson replies “What do you think I am?”.

Edge of Darkness will more than infuse those of you out there who were waiting for another all action Gibson revenge romper stomper, but I fear it does not offer the same meditative and metaphysical complexities of its predecessor, however it is a savage political thriller which like Ronseal it does what it says on the tin, thrills are omnipresent from three minutes in as Gibson takes no hostages in his mighty return.

Soloman Kane

Solomon Kane from the outset provides us with hope that perhaps this could be the unsung independent hero movie of this year, verging a fusion of what seems like a mix of V for Vendetta with Lord of the Rings, but disappointingly unlike 2009’s brutal The Watchmen (a masterful example of comic adaptation), Michael J. Bassett’s proposed epic falls quite flat on the comic store bargain bin floor. The protagonist Kane comes from Robert E. Howard’s pulp-era comics The Weird Tales which later produced the likes of the infamous Conan the Barbarian. This adaptation however is ill-fated in that obviously some terrible decisions were made and are embarrassingly evident upon the screen, especially in the climax of the film as opposed to the ever so promising and exhilarating opening.


Solomon Kane is played by the increasingly brilliant James Purefoy of HBO’s Rome fame in which he dominated both the screen and the series with his performance as Mark Antony. Kane represents Purefoy’s first leading performance post- Rome, to a role that seems it was meant to be. Despite some severe problematic filmmaking, script-writing and acting throughout, the central performance delivered from Purefoy is mesmerizing and proves to be this features one major saving grace. The story couldn’t be simpler, Kane an ex-mercenary is on the path of redemption after too much blood-shed and the devils promise to capture his soul, but due to some unforeseen events he is forced to doing what he does best- chopping people’s heads off. If this adaptation and the casting of Purefoy were given to more capable hands such as Antoine Fuqua, Ridley Scott or Zack Snyder then perhaps this would have been a true masterpiece. However, this finished product only scraps as a bearable outing for hard-core comic book fans and teenagers looking blood and guts without any psychological or allegorical infrastructures.

Michael J. Bassett had barely proven himself with 2002’s Deathwatch, and he is still to illustrate with a finished product his ability as a notable filmmaker. The real tragedy here is that there are moments of absolute genius, the opening sequence plunges the audience into a breath-taking first person view of an Elizabethan naval siege of a Spanish city. Instantly we are presented with a rich palette of savage colours reminiscent of Philip James de Loutherbourg’s Defeat of the Spanish Armada (painted in 1796), similar to the effects of The Hurt Locker we are forced into the searing heat of the conflict, and this is then fused with an audacious mix of sorcery of the Tolkien kind, which never seems cheesy or unnecessary, if anything it relights that childhood infatuation with magic and the dark forces similar to 1988’s Willow.

The plight of the tortured soul on the path to enlightenment and salvation is communicated very convincingly with Purefoy’s performance as is also the pockets of extreme medieval violence, when Purefoy becomes the Samurai of Somerset. The relationship of swordplay and sorcery are welcome in any medium, and there are some really impressive examples evident in the cinematography and production of this film. However this is dramatically over-shadowed by a terrible and predictable script, a embarrassing use of windows C.G.I and some despicable casting in The Office’s Mackenzie Crook as a deranged priest & Lock Stock’s Jason Flemyng as the evil sorcerer which is somewhat counter-balanced by some prudent casting with the ever- dependable Max Von Sydow & Pete Postlehwaite as Solomon’s Father and Friend respectively.

To summarize, Kane will feed those of you are crave visceral plague infused blood-shed (there is one scene where Kane must use an axe again and again to fully severe a man’s head) and for those of you who relish the mystical and fairytale darkness of the middle ages, but beware that although you will be entertained, you can’t help but come away feeling that you could have done a better job yourself.

An Education

The now Bafta winning and Oscar nominated independent charm that is An Education is proving to cause a international storm with critics and panels alike, however its inception breeds from unusual roots as it is directed by the virtually unknown Lone Scherfig, (a predominantly Danish filmmaker, notably involved with Red Road) an only second time written (formerly with Fever Pitch) screenplay from British treasure Nick Hornby and the first lead performance from fresh faced Carey Mulligan. Furthermore, it is adapted from an autobiographical memoir from British journalist Lynn Barber, and received only limited financial support from the likes of the U.K Film Council. However despite its hap-hazard foundations, An Education proves to be excusing the pun ‘an education’ in independent film making.


The film follows the exploits and encounters of a young British school girl named Jenny Mellor (Mulligan) as she begins that fateful transition from a young girl to a woman through the mischievous cocktail of adolescent flurries mixed with parental and deterministic rebellion. Indispensable support is provided from a broad buffet of international talent ranging from the adamant Peter Sarsgaard (previously of Jarhead, Shattered Glass and Garden State), the ever- dependable British royalty Emma Thompson, scary eyed Alfred Molina (of Spiderman 2), the beautiful Rosamund Pike (of Bond girl fame) & Olivia Williams (of The Sixth Sense) and finally staunch new-comer and one to keep an eye on Dominic Cooper (of The Escapist & The History Boys).

All together the story is compelling enough to sustain your interest and your emotional investment in the characters, particularly as a result of some uniquely brilliant acting taking full of advantage of both Hornby’s as ever witty dialogue and the vast well of pubescent & establishment talents littered throughout. The film is particularly relevant to British people at it depicts so many familiarities idiosyncratic to this little islands quirkiness and provides a social commentary that is both uplifting and revealing in its hilarious yet critical deliverance. The film is set in 1960’s Twickenham, in the quaint post-war suburban metropolis which appears to be waving the conservative flag desperate to hold on to Victorian ideals of courtship and morals. The films message is one of rejection, a rebellion to the epidemic of English reserves and backward ideals that punctuates our society or did so almost unanimously before, as Mulligan so tremendously shouts “ It’s not enough to just educate us anymore, you have to tell us why!”.

Unfortunately though despite an Education’s firm grasp of a mature Adrian Mole, once the message of what it means to be young in our society is pronounced, the film becomes quite deflated in providing an exciting narrative for the expedition of its ideologies. It appears some quite big issues are dealt with all too quickly and as result the film lacks the infrastructure that I am sure a novel could deliver. The love story between Mulligan and Sarsgaard plays well in its first chapters, but becomes quite alien towards its inevitable climax. Furthermore the audience is left with some unexplained questions and the film reaches a point of quite flaccid entanglements in a limbo between its message, its characters and its story.

However, if you are looking for a solid antidote to the usual American travesty of the Rom-com, and would like to enter a world of not so straight forward issues that young people are forced to deal with, whether it be your first love, your place in society, your future etc, then An Education delivers as a charming and sometimes uneasy observation into the intricate nature of young life.

Capitalism: A Love Story

Michael Moore despite what people say of him is one of the most important documentary film-makers of the modern age, he is constantly inspiring, challenging, brave, controversial and ultimately intelligent in the way he conceives an argument and its subsequent investigation in film. His first international and arguably most powerful experiment was 2002’s Bowling for Columbine, which reflected on the issue of the casual arms trade within the U.S. Moore followed with 2004’s Fahrenheit 9/11 which obviously dealt with the aftermath and ramifications of such a emotional event, and more recently his 2007 Sicko had a stab at the U.S Health- care systems. None the less, whether it’s the N.R.A, Bin Laden or Cuban September 11th rescue workers, Moore has always shown his world view with a addictive sense of humour and a critical eye for filtering out the bull-shit.


Moore’s latest plight is Capitalism: A Love Story, focusing on the global financial meltdown of the past two years. Moore attempts to use the film as a means of comprehension of what actually happened and what is happening, how did Western society allow the recession to manifest and how it has affected people’s lives. As per usual the film is centered on the United States, but perhaps more than just bias, Moore claims it is the country fundamentally responsible, and shouts where is our money? To anyone and everyone in positions of trust both politically and financially. Moore now a celebrity himself, struggles with his notoriety as ‘one to cause trouble’ and so many doors seem shut for answers. However, Moore is not one who easily gives up, and manages to present us with a solid dissection as to a look at a chronological lead up to the crisis, and to who is chiefly responsible.

What strikes a chord more than all of the wonderful cut and paste humour or hard cold facts is the story of how ordinary people have been affected by such events, in that Moore proves to have not just been an anchor man with an eye for a story, but a filmmaker of the people and for the people. The ultimate irony in which, is that Moore himself will profit from this film, but if we can forget this for a moment, he manages to exercise an incredible humility throughout, and tells the tale of a real human story of utter despair. This film proves as a result to be a real tear-jerker of the truest nature, in that what you are experiencing is real; Moore’s revelations and evidence will literally shock and slap you to your foundations, and in no short measure, he never takes the cheesy route or even particularly subjective eye, his film proves to be adamantly objective.

This film speaks to everyone, it couldn’t be more relevant, whether you’re Barack Obama, a banker or a dust-bin man, everyone has been and will be affected by the issues investigated in Moore’s film. The excess and mistakes of Capitalism has pushed western society to its brink, even the ‘bail-out’ is not without corruption, Moore embodies such conviction in his findings that you cannot help but be compelled and engaged with what he is saying. It is unfortunate that Moore did not have more rights to investigate, as many doors are closed to him, which does create an identity crisis for the film in parts, however there is enough meat on the bone to force you to see what people are capable of. It would be a mistake to disregard this film as depressing or sensationalist, as I do not believe it is contrived propaganda, what would be the point? There is too much humanity invested into this film for it to be irrelevant.

Capitalism: A Love Story may not change your life, but it will force to you to re-assess it, it is hilarious in parts, incredibly sad and horrible in others, but fundamentally inspiring and educational in its conviction and presentation, its bite is powerful and does leave a sour taste but the humanity and ideas of change leave hope, this should be mandatory viewing for every-one into revealing the nature of the beast and for the future of our so-called society.

The Wolfman

The Wolfman is the first installment of what has been dubbed as the ‘year of the werewolf’ as 2009 was the celebration of ‘the vampire’. The awesome force that is Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins & Hugo Weaving grace our screens with the additional easy on the eyes Emily Blunt as the damsel in distress box checked. It is a re-envisioning of George Waggner’s 1941 noir classic of the same name, with the troublesome yet satisfactory Joe Johnston behind the camera ( the man responsible for Jurassic Park III but ultimately from a rich heritage with the Lucas- Spielberg posse).


Johnston’s take has been riddled in production problems of all natures ranging from poor C.G.I, re-shoots, re-scripting, with ultimately both the filmmakers and the production company pushing back the release date from early 2009 to early 2010 to enhance the film in every conceivable way, but unfortunately although there is copious amounts of impressive work throughout, ultimately the film is hollow and the extra work has only exasperated the problem rather than solved it, if not, made it worse as it becomes more evident the effects of the editing room in the flow of the finished product.

However, the films purpose as fundamentally a horror is to scare, and yes I was scared, not as much as perhaps a valid horror film should, but certainly enough to justify. Horror is a genre of few masterpieces and many b-movies, when it is executed rightly it can be as masterful as any other, but with the slightest flaws, unlike most other genres it cannot rely on any other additional credentials. The story is simple enough; Benicio Del Toro plays Lawrence Talbot, a young begotten son who is forced to return home in light of his brother’s mysterious disappearance. The mighty Hopkins plays Sir John Talbot, Lawrence’s uniquely challenging father, who proves sustainingly intriguing throughout, especially in the various exchanges with his returning ‘prodigal son’. Hugo Weaving is also later welcomed as Francis Aberline, chief inspector of the mysterious ‘beast’ and disappearing case that has haunted the little village of Blackmoor, completing the staunching rich cast, which uplifts this film from a bargain bin Paul Ross wonder to a semi-respectable and satisfactory horror flick.

The film is heavily indebted both to the original and especially to John Landis’ 1981 An American Werewolf in London; also I couldn’t help thinking of the beginning to Michael Jackson’s eminent Thriller video, but certainly it manages to represent a welcome retreat from the likes of Michael J.Fox’s Teen Wolf. The transformation scenes in particular crystallize its debt to Waggner & Landis, and attempt to bring it into the 21st century with additional C.G.I, which unfortunately doesn’t quite cut the biscuit, but at the same time is still quite awe-inspiring if not as revolutionary as its predecessors. The film is especially bloody, which of course if not meditated can be a huge negative, but it works in favour for Johnston, in that his ability to exercise just enough savage violence to make it exciting rather than silly, keeps the audience on their toes.

Benicio is especially apt for the role as he is somewhat wolf like and dominating with his uniquely odd appearance, which has played in his favour in previous films such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Hopkins is almost as crazed as Hannibal Lector in his deliverance and tangents, and Weaving plays like an unmasked V for Vendetta/Agent Smith in his stringent presence. All of this combined with an eerie 18th century look at both the folklore of the werewolf and ethereal yet unnerving nature of both the Yorkshire moors and the especially disturbing look inside a Victorian mental institution; create ingredients of a pretty enjoyable movie experience.

If you can over look some poor script writing, some dodgy C.G.I, a pinch of ill-edited shoddiness, a drop of Hollywood predictability and some of the inevitable conventions being demonstrated, you will see that there is a masterpiece here, it just was given such a make-over with some bad decisions that instead we have a good film rather than a brilliant one. It will scare you and excite you, but it won’t challenge you or compel you in search of another meaning or viewing.

Crazy Heart

Jeff Bridges is one of the unsung heroes of cinema, he has a consistently explosive body of work and yet he is still to claim that ever so coveted little golden man Mr. Oscar. His new offering Crazy Heart is quite a demanding protagonistic turn, in that, it is through and through a solo performance despite tremendous support from the likes of Maggie Gyllenhaal, Bobby Duvall and a slightly suspicious Colin Farrell. This is not however the first, in that Bridges dominates the film and commands your attention in every scene, it is similar to previous roles such as ‘El Duderino’ from The Big Lebowski, ‘Jack Lucas’ in The Fisher King and more recently the wacky ‘Bill Jango’ in The Men Who Stare at Goats.


It is a directorial debut for Scott Cooper, who also co-wrote (adapted from a Thomas Cobbs novel of the same name) and produced the film, officially making him the man responsible behind the scenes, but yet in direction it is reminiscent to Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler, in that it wavers between deliberate dramatic amateurism to sophisticated polished exuberance, but it still loiters fluency enough in both its method and delivery to be voyeuristically satisfying. However the central character of this film is music (provided by Bridges, T-Bone Burnett, Ryan Bingham and Stephen Bruton) in that it brings method to bridges madness. The film perpetuates Bridges ‘Bad Blake’ character with such conviction that it is as if we were watching a real life bio-pic like Walk the Line.

The film follows Bridges washed up country n’ western ‘Bad Blake’ as he shuffles from one dead end shithole to the other in the shadow of his once illustrious career. The plight of the fallen musician or artist has consistently been an enigmatic bemusement for film goers, as it manages to neatly package a broad tapestry of human emotions for our cogitative pleasures infused with a feral obsession with the illusive ‘creative one’. Furthermore, the film also obeys the cliché format of almost every fame – rags- back to fame story, in that ultimately the audience is given hope for our fateful protagonist.

Fear not though, as Crazy Heart never allows sentimentality to ever fully blossom, as it always sustains a firm grasp of realism in its misanthropic rhetoric. Jeff Bridges oozes coolness as always throughout, even when his acting abilities are at its most punctuated when he shows every vulnerability a man could put upon the metaphorical table, and yet the audience is fully emphatic until the end, whether ‘Bad Blake’ has collapsed in his own puke or is collecting an award.

Crazy Heart’s central pulse ultimately emanates not from its all star performances or dirty country music, but its demonstration in what makes us human, the true meanings of success and failures, what we learn from the ups and downs and what is fundamentally important in our lives. It could have so easily have been a recipe for a pretentious disaster or a Kris Kristofferson b-movie, and yet whether you’re a cowboy or a bank clerk, you’ll find a heart with this Oscar worthy tale.

A Serious Man

A Serious Man is the first outing for the Coen brothers since mastering both the thriller and the comedy (thriller) in 2007 and 2008 respectively, with the epic award-winning No Country for Old Men & the hilariously all-star fast paced Burn after Reading. The Coens’ have proved themselves to almost be the bastard twin children of Stanley Kubrick, if it were, in systematically mastering any genre they please. From the inception of Blood Simple in 1984 to 2001’s The Man Who Wasn’t There they were as Joel directing and Ethan producing unstoppable as a formidable cinematic force.


From the chilling Fargo and the cult genius of The Big Lebowski the Coen brothers have always had something inspiring to offer, despite a directorial drought between 2001 and 2007, they have made one of the most successful comebacks in Hollywood with their adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s brutal novel No Country for Old Men. Such success has now allowed Joel and Ethan to explore more personal roots with A Serious Man, which takes a semi-biographical role upon a fresh faced Larry Gopnik (played by newcomer Michael Stuhlbarg) who we learn is an unsuspecting Jewish family man and physics professor attempting to balance all the perils of his circumstances in life.

This film in particular proves to show the Coens’ at ease with themselves and their abilities, where before they worked fastidiously to achieve feats of extremes, with A Serious Man they have learnt to relax and tell a simple story that is both relevant on a personal and contemporary level. The genius of this film is its exercise in subtlety, in that it is at the film’s most uninventive or stagnant procrastinations where we find its most idiosyncratic charms and poignancy. From Richard Kind’s psychotic performance as Larry’s brother Arthur to Fred Melamed’s adulterating hippy Sy Ableman, each character brings an uncomfortable yet joyous twist of events to poor Larry Gopnik’s hapless series of disappointments he calls life.

There is an especially memorable sequence in which one of Larry’s students Clive, a young Korean man who attempts to bribe the ethical Larry into giving him an A on his coursework leads to not only Larry losing his faith in his work but perhaps his legs when Clive’s Father pays him a visit. However the films central connotations rest as a contemplation or critique of Judaism as it was in mid-60s middle America and the nature of a man’s purpose and role in the modern world, whether it be with his family, his work, his religion, his friends or his own goals.

Furthermore, A Serious Man may not offer the adrenaline of Old Men or the sharpness of Burn after Reading, but it will make you laugh-out-loud when you least expect it, teach you a thing or two about life, and charm your willing socks off with its realistic yet ultimately ridiculous expedition of one man’s normality.

A Prophet

Jacques Audlard's ' Un prophète' or 'A Prophet' is his first since the international stomper that was 2005's ' A Beat That Skipped My Heart'. This latest feature is also an international debut for the young Tahar Rahim who has subsequently been nominated for The Orange Rising Star Award for his performance.


Since the success of Audlard's film at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, it has gone on to exploit the Oscar fever and been hotly tipped as the big ' World Cinema' champion with this year’s academy and none more deservingly so. Audlard has entered the premier league of film-making with this installment, mirroring the recent master-class of Jean-François Richet’ ‘Mesrine’ films.

The film is about a young man ( Malik played by Rahim) who is sent to a harsh French prison for a crime we are not entirely certain of, but none the less as soon as he gets a chance to get cozy with his new surroundings his life is indefinitely and brutally threatened by a gang of Corsican thugs. The deal is simple, either Malik kills another inmate for the Corsicans or he is killed himself. This is just the beginning of what is a stomach wrenching 150 minutes of utter masterful madness.

On one hand, A Prophet can be seen as France’s answer to Tony Kaye’s 1998 ‘American History X’ in that it is a multi-faceted and uncomfortable look at the horrors of imprisonment. However, it can also be seen as a social commentary on the racial and political issues prevalent in contemporary French relations, whether that may be Sarkozy’s racial secularism or French- Corsican relations. Furthermore it can be interpreted as a metaphysical investigation into the nature of loneliness, desperation and the role of the conscience.

Where Audlard excels is in creating a film that can be enjoyed for so many reasons on so many levels, as a straight up crime caper, a socio-political thriller, a philosophical contemplation or a story of one man’s life and how he attempts to overcome the most dangerous of obstacles. Tahar Rahim is completely believable as the protagonist and conveys the character of Malik with such conviction that he earns our trust enough to believe the story and the spiral of chaos that awaits him.

This masterpiece of film-making will convert those who have not yet tasted the ever fruitful tree of world cinema as an alternative to the monopolistic tyranny of Hollywood. Whether you are yearning for another Reservoir Dogs or an intelligent and confident political thriller, then A Prophet is certainly a more than competent answer.

Hurt Locker

If you have ever witnessed the depiction of war on celluloid before, you’ll appreciate that it can be an immense aesthetic undertaking, illustrating humanity in its most extreme state. One woman understands this perhaps more than any other man or film-maker, Kathryn Bigelow, who first demonstrated her cinematic abilities with the cult hit that was 1991’s Point Break and further cemented her reputation with the oddly hypnotizing 1995’s Strange Days has since left behind such turkeys as 2002’s suspicious K-19: The Widowmaker and invented greener pastures with her 2009 ‘swan song’.

The Hurt Locker has since been nominated for nine academy awards including ‘best picture’ and ‘best director’, it began its awesome trajectory with the Venice Film Festival and secured world-wide attention with 2009’s Toronto’s International Film Festival and ever since, Bigelow’s investigation into the searing heat and darkness of modern warfare has perpetuated momentum and critical acclaim from every corner of the globe. The 21st century’s principal conflicts with the Middle East have risen as a worthy genre of film in its own right with notable depictions such as Robert Reford’s 2007 Lions for Lambs, Marc Foster’s 2007’s The Kite Runner, Stephen Gaghan’s 2005’s Syriana, Ari Folman’s 2008’s Waltz in Bashir, Ridley Scott’s 2001 Black Hawk Down, Paul Haggis’s 2007’s Valley of Elah, Peter Berg’s 2007’s The Kingdom and HBO’s 2008 epic production of Generation Kill.

However, no film or television so far has truly attempted to smash the politically correct boundaries of a post 9/11 state of mind other than ‘The Hurt Locker’. Bigelow has assembled a truly magnificent cast with the likes of Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes but most notably a career changing ,stand-out performance from Jeremy Renner as Sergeant William James, the team leader of the Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) unit in a post-invasion 2004 Iraq, where guerilla warfare of the most savage kind breeds. The film follows James and his team on their minute to minute attempts to try and assemble some order into a burnt land of chaos, risking their life with every breath as passing bullets, chemical weapons and explosions become as normal as passing traffic, where blood becomes sand as quick as you turn your head.

The films tag line is taken from war correspondent and journalist Chris Hedges 2002 best-seller ‘War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning’ in which he shouts "The rush of battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for war is a drug." Bigelow’s film is an attempt to show this statement as fact, as she does a incredibly convincing job of it, The horrors of warfare have been digested by such great directors as Francis Ford Coppola, Oliver Stone, Stanley Kubrick, Michael Cimino and so on throughout the ages, but this is the first refreshing display that shows no mercy, ‘The Hurt Locker’ is brave, controversial, disgusting, savage, intelligent and ultimately compelling. Furthermore, it has to its benefit a contemporary relevance within modern society as the Middle Eastern conflict is ongoing. If film is art and therefore art is an attempt of contemplation, this is Bigelow’s and with it the modern consciousnesses attempt to break free from the numbness and ineptitude of apathy, and an attempt to force us to deal with what we are seeing.

‘The Hurt Locker’ will not let you feel safe or comfortable for one second, it is devised to make you scared that humanity is capable of such things, and with its strong anchor in realism, the statements the film makes could not be more frighteningly relevant or potent. Jeremy Renner’s performance especially is Oscar- worthy, as he plays arguably the most audacious psycho in modern times or perhaps the most humane candidate in an unjust war, the decision lies with the viewer, but beware as ‘The Hurt Locker’ is designed to pack a punch, this isn’t your average Friday night flick, this is a exploration of evil, madness and the decline of civilization as we know it or perhaps of how it has always been.