Elysium

When you first saw the original promotional shots for Neill Blomkamp's Elysium, that of a shaven headed Matt Damon with surgically attached exoskeleton, you wouldn't how thought that the final film would be a somewhat plodding action thriller that leans so heavily to the left it might as well have been sponsored by the Communist Party. The problem is Blomkamp has appeared to concentrate so much on making sure people understand his political views its been to the detriment of making an entertaining film. Though his blistering calling card District 9 was slightly spoiled by its trite apartheid allegory, it was so damn enjoyable on so many other different levels that you could ignore such obvious sign posting. Here it is not the case. Set in 2154, the wealthiest individuals now live on a man made space station (the Elysium of the title), whilst the rest of the population is stuck on an Earth that is on its last legs. When an accident at work leaves Max Da Costa (Damon) with only a few days to live he decides to attempt to smuggle himself into Elysium with the intention of receiving treatment, whilst also undertaking a mission that will end the struggle of the humans left on Earth. Blomkamp has employed many of the same hands that worked on his previous film and in respect of art design and special effects, this is visually superb. The storyline is the let down though. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with political films, but Blomkamps unsubtle comments on immigration, overpopulation, class etc. have little substance to back them up and come the films denouement the final statement appears contradictory in respect of what has been preached so far. Throw in a wasted effort from old pal Sharlto Copley (who's involvement it appears was to make sure he swore as much as possible) and this has the old problem of great on paper, not so great on film. The fact that Blomkamp wanted an unknown rapper as first choice to play the lead role suggests he's not quite the genius his debut film suggested he was. I think this film is best summed up by Diego Luna, who was so keen to work with Blomkamp he signed on before even reading the script. On hearing this Luna's agent responded "Never do that again". Wise man, that agent. Rating: 5/10.

Rush

If you saw Rush without knowing who the director was it's probably a a fair bet to say you wouldn't have piped up that you thought Ron Howard was calling the shots. That's no smear on Howard's solid (if unspectacular) career, but you wouldn't expect such nail-biting racing scenes from a man who is more used to giving us lightweight comedies and thought provoking dramas. However, in hindsight, Howard was probably the perfect choice after all, for himself and screenplay writer Peter Morgan employ the same M.O that proved such a success the last time they paired up for Frost / Nixon, i.e. taking a famous historical event and using dramatic license in terms of the accuracy of events and dialogue in order to produce something thrilling for the modern day cinema going audience. So though Howard's film (which mainly tells the story of the battle for the 1976 Formula One drivers championship between James Hunt and Niki Lauda) takes some wrong turns which may upset petrol heads in respect of its authentic correctness, the end result is pure entertainment and frankly, isn't that what movies are meant to be all about? Despite the blistering racing scenes, the film is actually more of a character study of each man and their relationship with each other and their own mortalities. Playing Hunt is Chris Hemsworth and, a couple of thriller roles aside, this is the first time he has portrayed a fully dramatic part. Great he is too, nailing Hunt's cut glass accent and charm with the ladies, whilst always hinting that there is a layer of insecurity behind the mask of bravado. Daniel Bruhl (as Lauda) is even better. Wearing a dental appliance to help capture Lauda's "ratty" look, it's a career best performance from Bruhl capturing Lauda's mannerisms and cold mechanical outlook on life. However, the two main stars lead the way to such an extent that other characters get lost by the track side, especially the leading female roles in the film. Plus, if you want some stereotypes (eccentric Englishmen, corrupt Italians et al) they're all dotted throughout. Just be thankful Howard wisely jettisoned a cameo from Russell Crowe as Richard Burton. In terms of it's actual physical look, though F1 has always been about the glitz and the glamour, Howard shoots with filtered lenses to give the impression of a time which wasn't so much the glory days, more a grim decade of stagflation in the western world in which one of the most popular sports meant death was a daily hazard for the drivers, all in the form of entertainment for the masses. However no one is forced at gun point to be a racing driver and Morgan's script keenly points out that these men are obsessed with being number one whatever the risks. Howard perfectly captures this moment in a scene in which Bruhl squeezes into his racing helmet only weeks after suffering the horrific burns that would scar him forever. Overall, though the racing / life metaphor is a bit too forced, this is a hugely enjoyable film that should appeal to a much wider audience than just people who can tell a driveshaft from a crankshaft (no, me neither). Rating: 8/10.

2 Guns

2 Guns is one of those films that you'll see at the cinema and ten years down the line will have difficulty differentiating it from many similar films of this period. To whit: Mark Wahlberg deadpans and fires a lot of guns; Denzel Washington wears some outlandish clothes; there's a drug deal; corrupt policemen; a hip hop soundtrack, the list goes on. So basically if you like that sort of thing this should see you fine, though the film loses most of its appeal in the fact that it thinks itself far better than it is. Also, if you've seen the trailer already, that has also already given away much of the movie. If you do want some plot what we have is undercover agents (Washington = DEA, Wahlberg = Navy) getting caught up in a botched drug deal, with the hook being that neither man knows of the others identity. The unease is played upon for a little while by director Baltasar Kormakur, but it doesn't hold much water (especially as there's little chemistry between the leads) and at least Kormakur has the sense to eventually just concentrate on the action. This leads into the films main problem in which it tries to be clever with a screenplay that is meant to keep you guessing. However, too many twists spoil the broth and by the end you'll be too tired to care who is who and who gets away. Wahlberg has stuck with his Contraband mucker Kormakur here, but it's the list of directors who were also considered (Liman, Fuqua, Morel, Campbell) that meant we could have had something a bit more coherent as the final presentation. OK, you can take Fuqua back. Rating: 5/10.

The Lone Ranger

Director Gore Verbinski, producer Jerry Bruckheimer and stars Johnny Depp and Armie Hammer got a bee in their bonnet about The Lone Ranger. Their beef was that the film was savaged by critics due to what happened behind the scenes as opposed to the actual quality of the film. Do they have a point though? The Lone Ranger is certainly no classic, but it’s a long way off from being a turkey. Where it was a disaster was on the commercial front, but as I’ve been saying for years, most of the time a films performance at the box office has little connection to it’s overall merit. The Lone Ranger is a bit of a muddle no doubt, but at least it tries to entertain as much as possible. The chemistry between Depp (Tonto) and Hammer (Guess) is decent, there are a number of laughs and it doesn’t take itself seriously at any point. Plus if you don’t like seeing William Fichtner (as the big bad here), then you plain just don’t like cinema. However, the cast and crew can have no argument against the negatives. The flashback structure is completely unnecessary and unfunny (the present day bits are Depp as an elderly man narrating the story) and add too many minutes onto an already lengthy run time. The tone is all over the place (it’s oddly brutal at times) and the never ending final scene is the overkill that has been hinted at all along. Perhaps the main question that needs to be answered is when did Johnny Depp decide to stop acting? It can’t be helped that he’s teaming up with Verbinski yet again, but this is just the same old routine he’s been putting out for almost a decade now in films of this ilk and its wearing very thin indeed. Going back to the original complaint, there is also the counter argument that many films suffer from teething difficulties in production and turn out to be fine in the long run. Personally, it seems to me that this just isn’t a film that has an audience out there (something I would have thought Disney would have researched beforehand). The last actual film to star these characters was over thirty years ago and whilst many of the production crew may be from that generation, the cinema going demographic is mainly between 25-35 year olds and they’re clearly non-plussed by a man in a mask on his horse with an eccentric sidekick. Overall, if you disengage brain you should have enough fun to get by (plus Tom Wilkinson accent spotters are well catered for), but Bruckheimer’s assertion that in years to come this will be rediscovered as a masterpiece is as fanciful as this getting a sequel. Rating: 6/10.

Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa / We're The Millers / The Heat

Time for some comedy and three films that tickle the required funny bone if, as they say, you like that sort of thing. Cinema is littered with the corpses of big screen versions of successful British sitcoms (see The Inbetweeners Movie for the most recent evidence) so hopes aren't high for Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa as Steve Coogan and Armando Iannucci finally bring their fictional radio presenter to the silver screen. However a genius such as Iannnucci rarely puts a foot wrong and there's plenty of laugh out loud moments here from the usual one-liners ("She's a drunk racist. I can accept one of those things, but not both") to surreal silliness (the best radio jingle you'll hear for quite a while) as Partridge finds himself caught up in a siege at his local radio station. However the script appears to have been caught between trying to appeal to a new audience by introducing some broader (i.e. cruder) laughs and indulging the hard core fans. Iannucci and company couldn't win either way on that front I guess, but the consensus from the long term believers (which include myself) is that this isn't as bad as was feared. Not sure if that is a recommendation or not, but the fact that it's been almost twenty years since AP was in his prime and this can still raise moments of ruddy hilarity shows that there may be life in the old Partridge yet. Talking of broader laughs, Rawson Marshall Thurber's We're The Millers has, amongst other things, a tarantula biting Will Poulter's privates. However, don't let that put you off as there's a surprising amount of heart here amongst the filth as, on finding himself in the hole to a kingpin, a local pot dealer (Jason Sudeikis) is forced into moving a huge amount of marijuana from Mexico into the US. In order to remain as inconspicuous as possible he creates a fake family involving a stripper (Jennifer Aniston), a teenage runaway (Emma Roberts) and his abandoned-by-his-parents neighbour (Poulter). In effect this is a road movie with the plot no more than a number of scenes in which the faux family interact with a range of characters (Hello, Luis Guzman!) whilst trying to avoid ending up in the slammer or the morgue. This isn't the type of film where a director can do much with the camera, but much like Thurber's last film (Dodgeball) he knows that the idea behind this kind of production is to just let it all hang out and hope the comedic hits outweigh the misses. The lack of subtlety is highlighted in the much promoted (hmm, can't think why) Aniston strip scene where Thurber has Sudeikis break the fourth wall with an expression that says "Well, what did you expect?".It's a bit odd, but at least it's honest. More hit and miss laughs come in the shape of The Heat, starring Melissa McCarthy and Sandra Bullock. Paul Feig surprised all with his 2011 sleeper hit Bridesmaids (though Annie Mumolo and Kristen Wiig's cracking script had a big hand in that) and here he re-teams with that films break out star McCarthy. The last time we had a female buddy cop movie was Feds (back in 1988!) and if you can remember that you'll probably understand why there hasn't been one since. However, screenwriter Katie Dippold's debut script has plenty of positives going for it and McCarthy and Bullock play off each other nicely. Could have done a bit better on the editing front mind as McCarthy's improvised scenes drag on way too much at times and the jokes about albinism (though if you know this genre you'll get the reference) are a bit off pat. Worth catching though for the moment when Bullock's uptight copper finally loses her rag and unleashes a grammatically challenged string of expletives. Partridge Rating: 6/10. Millers Rating: 7/10. The Heat Rating: 7/10. 

Pacific Rim / Only God Forgives / About Time

Right, no more messing. I've really got to try and move these reviews along, so here's three vastly different films all grouped together for one reason: their mediocrity.  Guillermo del Toro has been involved in seventeen different films since 2008's Hellboy II. The problem is he hasn't directed a single one of them. Therefore you'll be unsurprised to hear that Pacific Rim has terrible dialogue and awful acting. Del Toro is revered for his intellect and for this film drew inspiration from (amongst other things) Goya's The Colossus and Hokusai's The Great Wave off Kanagawa. However, at the end of the day isn't this just a film about large robots beating the crap out of each other? Idris Elba just looks guilty for accepting the paycheck and Ron Perlman chews so much scenery he's probably still in hospital now having bits of wood removed from his stomach. Teenage boys need apply only. It's adults only though for Nicolas Winding Refn's follow up to his much acclaimed Drive. Personally, I didn't fully get all the praise that film received and in Only God Forgives Refn has taken the main facets of that film and pushed them to the limit. So here we have even less dialogue, Ryan Gosling looking even moodier and Refn disappearing even further up his own backside. Storyline wise its a revenge fable, but Refn's usual mix of glacial pacing interspersed with crunching violence mean thrills are in short supply. Speaking of the violence, this has had the left up in arms again (somewhat ironic considering this film has many of them lopped off) but this isn't any worse than Drive and there's certainly nothing here as stomach churning as the disemboweling in Refn's earlier Valhalla Rising. Still you can't deny Refn knows how to frame and shoot a picture as this looks gorgeous. It's just a shame the overall product is clouded by conceitedness. Smugness is also an accusation that Richard Curtis has been labelled with over the years due to his scripts and films portraying a comfortable middle class existence for the majority of his characters. This kind of reverse snobbery is utterly ludicrous. If you want to slam Curtis do it for the quality of whats on show. Unfortunately for him, About Time gives plenty of opportunity for pouring scorn. It's a British romantic comedy (natch) in which a young man (Domhnall Gleeson) uses time travel to fix the problems in his life. It has its funny moments, but Curtis completely misses the point as he tries to garner sympathy from the audience when Gleeson doesn't get the chance to use the time machine to undo the darker moments in his life. So, just like the layman, huh, Richard? There's some good chemistry between Gleeson and Rachel McAdams in the lead roles (which is ironic considering he's basically pretty deceitful to her throughout), but the rules behind the time travel which drive the plot get forgotten about as we move through Gleeson's life and we're left with so many unanswered questions that in the end the unique selling point of this film is the thing that kills it. Rating for all three films: 4/10.

The Wolverine

James Mangold blotted his copybook with 2010's mediocre Knight and Day, though at least he's safe in the knowledge here that even if he had mucked this up as well it would just about be covered up by almost guaranteed decent box office returns. Basically any director who picks up the megaphone for a superhero film these days can breath easy before the cameras have started rolling as we're truly living in a time where the relationship between quality and turnover has almost divorced for good. This latest instalment in the X-Men film series is a case in point. A film that is nothing more than average, but due to an already established built in audience, people will pile in anyway. OK, to be fair, The Wolverine is actually an above average film, but we're at the stage now where the non-Marvel fan needs something original to keep the interest going. Mangold and a bevy of established screenwriters (Bomback and McQuarrie amongst them) hang the hat of the story on the Wolverine character's major sticking point. It's must be pretty cool to be immortal, but it leaves the audience cold. How can you be excited about a film where you know the main protagonist can't actually be hurt? Therefore the scripters have moved things to Japan and introduced a plot in which old Logan isn't immortal after all. This actually works up to a point, but apart from a good line of humour running through the movie and the occasional thrill (a fun and frantic chase atop a speeding Shinkansen being the highlight) overall the feeling is still that of same old, same old. At least Hugh Jackman hasn't given up and arguably gives his best performance so far playing ol' mutton chops. Shame the rest of the cast is shocking, with Svetlana Khodchenkova so wooden as Viper that they might as well just have made her whole character CGI. As the film meanders into its standard final act you can't help but think what this could have been like had original director Darren Aronofsky stayed aboard. Aronofsky's fingerprints register throughout and it's frustrating to think that this could have been something quite different. Alas, we're left with a safe director, a safe script and a safe film. Rating: 6/10.