An / Schneider v Bax / Victoria

For you lovers of subtitles, three foreign films here to seek out if you so wish. Having said that these were all Festival films and, unless they get picked up for distribution, you’ll probably have to look out for them on shiny discs further down the line. We start with An, Naomi Kawase’s charming and thought provoking film regarding age and disability in Japan. Sentaro (Masatoshi Nagse) owns a small diner which distributes dorayaki pancakes. People are hardly queuing round the block for his fare, but things take a turn for the better when he employs elderly lady Tokue (Kirin Kiki) to make the red-bean paste (the “An” of the title) for said pancakes. However Tokue’s recipe and Sentaro’s profits look to be under threat when Tokue’s (visual) disability begins to become common knowledge. I won’t say much more as Tokue’s disability is delicately and subtly revealed in the film and Kawase’s production deserves people to see it for highlighting what is a somewhat dark social issue in Japan (unless you’re a Japanophile it’s a topic you’ll unlikely to be aware of). On the negative side, whist the acting from the two main leads is top notch (they should have a picture of Nagse playing Sentaro in the dictionary under “unenthused”), the rest of the cast ranges from somewhat bland to over the top. This could also have done with losing 20 minutes or so in the editing suite. From Japan we make the long haul flight back to Europe for Alex van Warmerdam’s Schneider v Bax, in which Dutch hitman Schneider (Tom Dewispelaere) reluctantly takes on a job taking out Ramon Bax, a novelist who lives somewhat reclusively in the reed fields of the Netherlands. The title alone pretty much tells you that things don’t go to plan. We haven’t had a mash-up for a while so lets describe this as the Coen’s directing a Jo Nesbo script, but with 50% of the quality, fun and intensity removed. Warmerdam has a reputation for delivering films that are a little odd and this is no exception. How much you swallow some of the more bizarre moments will probably reflect your overall enjoyment. To wit: At one point a major plot development occurs when a character, alone, and for no reason whatsoever, does a comedy pratfall! Warmerdam tries to pitch the comedy aspect high, but it’s a thin line between farce and farcical. However, despite all the silliness, you’ll still want to know how it all works out. Though hopefully you won’t be too distracted by Dewispelaere, who must be the lovechild of Michael Ballack and Danny Dyer. Finally, it’s a short hop over to Germany for some filmic experimentation, with Sebastian Schipper’s Victoria. I love a tracking shot so when I heard about this (a whole film shot in one uninterrupted take), it sounded like manna from heaven. Set in the early hours of the city of Berlin, we follow young night clubber Victoria (Laia Costa) as she hooks up with a somewhat motley crew of chaps and then follow her adventures with them throughout the dark hours of the German night. The technical details first. Schipper tried three attempts to get this done, succeeding on the third attempt and this is the take that makes up the film, all 134 minutes of it. It can’t be denied that it’s a highly impressive achievement as the camera follows the protagonists through streets, stairs, lifts, rooftops, cars, bikes, shops etc. without a noticeable stumble. However, there’s a problem though. Even incorporating a bank raid into the bargain, Schippers film is just plain dull. At least an hour could have been cut from this, but it looks like the lure of a longer more impressive technical achievement won out over the actual quality of the final film. In addition it takes quite a bit of swallowing, especially with no background to the characters, that Victoria would spend five minutes with such a group of horrible drunk tossers, let along a couple of hours with them breaking law after law. Kudos to cast and director for a cracking achievement cinema-wise. It’s a shame it’s just not worth over two hours of people’s time to sit through the end result. An Rating: 7/10. Bax Rating: 6/10. Victoria Rating: 5/10.

Avengers: Age of Ultron

I’m pretty averse to superhero movies at the best of times, unless a brilliant director takes them to a place that is over and above the standard. Unfortunately, Joss Whedon is no Chris Nolan and that means that Avengers: Age of Ultron is pretty thin stuff, even for the rehash and dispatch world of Marvel. Whedon has had many fingers in many successful pies over the years, but he’s still yet to prove his worth as a more than average film director. So what we have here is just fast food film making for the masses. Who cares if there’s virtually nothing new to say? Just put it out there and watch the money roll in. At least the fan boys will have fun, but the average film goer will be as bored as the cast looks going through the motions of treading through the same plot strands as previous films. Whedon’s over use of CGI does him little favours here as well and, much like the lesson that Michael Bay still hasn’t learnt, once you’ve seen one SFX dust up you’ve seen them all. As for the main players, Robert Downey Jr. is just plain annoying and Mark Ruffalo gives a master class in bad acting in any scene that requires any sort of emotion to be projected (though, frankly, who can blame him if he can’t be arsed to try). For some odd reason Chris Hemsworth appears to use his James Hunt voice for the whole film, but at least that provides an unintentionally amusing distraction. Any plus points? James Spader voices the villain of the piece (Ultron – keep up!) and despite only being a CGI rendered mass of lines and colours, actually provides the film with its one true piece of personality. There’s also a few throwaway gags to enjoy, but the whole Marvel world feels unbelievably tired now. Having said that, Gwyneth Paltrow isn’t in this one so small mercies, huh? Rating: 4/10.

Kingsman

Director Matthew Vaughan and co-screenwriter Jane Goldman have an unblemished record so far, but the quality level drops a bit here. Their latest collaboration isn't a bad film, but it more chugs along as opposed to being a solid watch all the way through. The set-up is fairly standard as we follow the recruitment of an, err, chav (Eggsy – played by Taron Egerton), into a secret spy organisation and then further into saving-the-world plot shenanigans. I can’t recall a film I’ve seen recently that’s as hit and miss as this one, almost to the point that it could depend when you see it during the week. If it’s on a Friday night, you’ll laugh heartily at a gag involving McDonalds. If you see it on a Monday, you won’t see a gag, just abysmal product placement. Vaughan and Goldman’s film is clearly a subversive take on Bond, but it doesn’t really work in that sense, unlike say, what Kick-Ass was to superhero films. Best just to enjoy this then for the daftness that it is. A nice meta conversation between Colin Firth (as Eggsy's handler / mentor) and Samuel L. Jackson (as the big bad) gives a wink to the audience that none of this should be taken seriously – indeed, when a key scene involves a lot of people’s heads exploding to the backdrop of Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance, you know you’re on Silly Street. On that note though, the tone of the film is unbalanced throughout, with exhibit A being the now infamous anal sex banter (which has been cut from subsequent versions). Vaughan is an accomplished director mind, and for the cineastes out there he employs a trick here of centrally framing the entire film (though the pan shots did remind me of a certain W. Anderson). That trick does go out of the window though (along with a number of bloody bodies) in an astonishing scene of violent carnage featuring Firth in a church, which is a head spinning mash up of John Woo’s Hard Boiled and Gareth Edwards The Raid. It’s unlikely you’ll see anything like it this year. On the acting front, the aforementioned Firth plays an English gentleman (quite a stretch, that), old Vaughan alumni Mark Strong appears, but for some reason has to act with a barely interminable Scottish accent, and the less said about Jackson’s lisping villain the better. Rating: 7/10.

Into The Woods

If you go down in the woods today you’re sure to find....a number of Hollywood stars in a somewhat mixed bag of musical mayhem. Stephen Sondheim’s 1987 musical Into The Woods gets the big screen treatment with Tinseltown's great and the good (and lots of others you’ll never have heard of) pitching in to the story of a crossover between a number of fairy tales (Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella etc.). The loose plot thread running through it all concerns a childless couple (James Corden and Emily Blunt) who have to collect a number of items for a hideous beast. A bit like one of those episodes of The Apprentice, then. The tone is all over the place at times (chopping off bits of feet!), no doubt as a result of trying to make the film more marketable (the play is significantly more violent), but without losing that Grimm-edge. The last time he picked up a megaphone (for the most recent installment of the Pirates of the Caribbean series) director Rob Marshall sent everyone to sleep, but here the man behind Chicago and Nine is back on safer territory. The majority of the songs come alive thanks to his skill in moving the camera around, though some tread a thin line between enjoyment and endurance. The acting honours go to Anna Kendrick and Chris Pine (clearly having fun hamming it up as Cinderella’s Prince in waiting), especially as the rest of the cast is spread somewhat unevenly re lines and screen presence. Overall, a decent effort, but its confusion re what level of mood to pitch itself at means the whole things lacks heart. Rating: 6/10.

Fast and Furious 7

It’s a Friday so it must be time for yet another entry in the Fast and Furious franchise. This is the seventh outing for Vin Diesel and cohorts and, if you think that’s seven films too many already, you won’t find much here to fire your engine. For cineastes (stay with me here) the main (well only) intrigue is solid Aussie horror helmer James Wan taking the directors chair. For the ghoulish there’s how the film coped with the death of actor Paul Walker half-way through (body doubles, stunt doubles and CGI since you ask). For the rest, it’s as you were. Plot-wise we have the retired crew coming back online when they’re threatened by a relation (hello Jason Statham!) of the bad bod they defeated last time out. It’s mainly loud and noisy nonsense with some plot points beyond suspension of disbelief (at one point a massive is bomb is sent via the normal post from Japan to the US!). The odd thing is though is that Wan appears to have directed this all with a straight face. That aside it’s still entertaining, albeit in a pure throw away manner. You can understand Wan wanting to do something outside of his comfort zone, but an over reliance on dodgy CGI suggests this isn’t really his bag. It’s also far too long, the casual misogyny prevalent throughout the whole series is still present and (in)correct and the breaking of the fourth wall homage to Walker at the end of the film is somewhat clunky. Anyway, even if you don’t enjoy this, part eight will probably be out next Friday. Rating: 6/10.

Foxcatcher

The last time director Bennett Miller made a film based on true events he gave us the first-rate Moneyball. Obviously dramatic licence was taken for that film and Bennett applies the same approach here, but the result this time is an oddly flat film, not helped by the fact that the real life events surrounding John du Pont are arguably more “entertaining” that what is delivered here on screen. du Pont (Steve Carell) was a multimillionaire who, in the mid 1980’s, recruited Olympic gold medalist wrestling brothers Mark (Channing Tatum) and Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo) to help train wrestlers at his private estate (the “Foxcatcher” of the title – Basil Brush, relax). To say anymore about what happened would be a spoiler, but you’ll probably have already gathered from the moody marketing and trailer that this doesn’t end up with smiles all round. The main problem the film has is that it largely evolves around du Pont, but Miller decides to keep him as an enigma throughout and his actions are left to audience interpretation, rather than direction. For example at one point, when du Pont couldn’t appear to be happier, for no apparent reason he offers Mark cocaine – you can guess the rest, but why would du Pont sabotage his happiness in such a way? Such areas are never fully analysed. On the plus side, Carell (unrecognisable if you didn’t know it was him) gives a great performance as the ever unraveling du Pont. His casting though sums up the films muddled thinking, as Miller has been quoted as saying that he didn’t want to hire an actor who you might presuppose was capable of heinous acts – so if hiring Carell was partly behind that decision, why then cover him in prosthetics and makeup which makes him look like he’s capable of such things? In terms of the brothers, Ruffalo gives another strong turn, but Tatum reverts back to his moody ape face which doesn’t help anyone. There’s some good moments here (look for the painful scene where du Pont struggles to teach a group of his students the basics in front of his over-bearing mother), but Miller’s film is too slow and unengaging to demand further viewings. Rating: 6/10.

American Sniper

A number of Clint Eastwood’s last few films as a director have been blighted by endless continuity errors and his over-resistance on terrible CGI. Things take a turn for the better here though, with his (very loose) adaptation of the memoir American Sniper, which tells the story of, reportedly, the US military’s most lethal sniper in its history, Chris Kyle. Before we even get anywhere, if you want a debate on modern warfare, Iraq, Kyle’s legacy etc, then look elsewhere. This is a film review, not Radio Five Live. The film itself isn’t all that original in the story its telling, in the fact that what we have is the classic war two-hander – First the depiction of battle(s). Then the struggle to assimilate back into modern life. Eastwood has his hand on the tiller here in a much firmer way than what we’ve seen for a while and the film is confidently structured throughout. Though Kyle’s (portrayed by a bulked up Bradley Cooper) decent into post-traumatic stress disorder isn’t really fully explored at great length, when it’s touched on its done in a effective manner, especially in one great moment when the use of the noises of warfare are invoked to wrong foot the viewer (on that note, the sound editing is superb throughout). Cooper is good in the lead role, but the film is so focused on him that other characters barely register. Criticism by some (Americans, it should be noted) that the film is propaganda and akin to Inglorious Basterds Nation’s Pride are well wide of the mark. However, it’s got to be said that no other nation on Earth would make such a flag waving picture as this. So a solid, though not overly spectacular return to form for Eastwood. Having said that, this is an Eastwood directed film so it would be remiss to not highlight a few of the more ridiculous moments. Putting the “model baby” business aside (they had to use one in the film as the two babies slated for that days shooting couldn’t be filmed), I was tempted to go for the final shot taken by Kyle in the film which tips us into eye-rolling fantasy / video game land, but the stand out moment of stupidity has to be when Kyle is under heavy gun fire, deep into a claustrophobic battle with a number of his battalion, and he takes a personal phone call from his missus. At least they didn’t discuss what was for dinner, but still dumb, dumb and thrice dumb. Rating: 7/10.