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Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)
There were Capoeira zombies!
I've always had an established theory about long-running film franchises when you have run out of ideas, go and set the next bastard in deep space. Friday the 13th did it. Leprechaun did it. Hell, even James Bond did it. Yep, that's right folks, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull almost boldly goes where no fedora-wearing archaeologist has gone before. I say almost. Sure, it's not technically set in space, but some of the concepts are so far out there in the inky blackness of infinity that screenwriter David Koepp probably should have stopped to put down that doobie mid story-arc.
Twenty-odd years after the last installment of the franchise, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, we pick up the story of the titular Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones (Harrison Ford) toward the end of the nineteen-fifties, 1957 or there about. The long story short is that our whip-crackin' adventurer becomes entangled with a Soviet agent (Cate Blanchett) intent on unraveling the mystery behind a series of unusual artifacts known as the Crystal Skulls.
Unless you have been living under a rock for the better part of the last two decades, you would have seen at least one or two Indy films. Hell, let me guess, you've probably seen them all and I'm simply preaching to the converted? So I can only assume that the most pressing question from the fan base would be is this the Indiana Jones you know and love? Hand on heart, I can confirm that this is most definitely an Indiana Jones film through and through. All the camp elements you've come to know and love are there in spades: car chases involving vehicles driving really close alongside one another next to a cliff edge, weak fist fights, swinging like Tarzan from Indy's signature bullwhip, bullets that strike everything but the good guys, the hat, ingenious traps devised by long-extinct cultures, snakes, a female love interest, stereotypical bad guys from behind the Iron Curtain, that travel map plotting Indy's travels from one continent to the next, and yes, that famous theme song. Da da da DA! Da da da! Everything that is Indiana Jones in a nutshell cross them off your list as you watch the film.
Now listen up kids, this is the part where I really have an axe to grind. You take all the stock standard elements of a typical Indy film, the sort of gear that fans eat-up with the proverbial spoon, and then Lucas and company go and ladle in a giant portion of freeze-dried crap. Okay, I'm just going to come out with it, there's no escaping this fact - there is a giant dob of freeze-dried crap floating throughout Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in the form of a fifties sci-fi throwback. I won't spoil it entirely, but don't say that I didn't warn you. Fifties sci-fi has its place, don't get me wrong - just not in Indiana Jones, as far as I'm concerned. I've heard some strong arguments from fans that this sci-fi theme fits in with the Indiana Jones universe, and it's not really that bizarre compared to some of the more out-there elements from previous films, i.e. some priest dude ripping out a beating heart. Judging from the mixed audience and critic reaction, I suspect you are either going to love the sci-fi theme, or more likely, I suspect you are going to hate it with a passion and simply accept nothing less than satisfaction. Love it or hate it, there is no real middle ground to be found.
The cinematography and direction were all decent, but then again, cinema-goers wouldn't expect anything less than decent with a budget of $125 million, including veteran director Steven Spielberg at the helm. $125 million clams is at the higher-end of the scale as far as movie budgets go, but nothing completely obscene (I'm looking at you Waterworld) either way, it's still more than this white-collar schnook would earn in a million lifetimes. If you broke down those production costs, you really have to start to wonder how much they did (or didn't) spend on the CGI. I've got to admit that the CGI is very noticeable in parts, but sadly everything is so heavily-reliant on CGI these days that it's almost impossible to put Pandora back in the box. It's safe to say that lot of memorable scenes from the original Indiana Jones films were shot on, or at least near location, something that appears to be lacking with the latest installment. First and foremost, Indy films are meant to be fun, followed closely by the sense of immersion in the rich and vibrant world created by the director. At points in the film, any real sense of immersion in Indy's world simply gets flushed down the toilet quicker than bags of coke at a Robert Downey Jnr. house party. The film smacks of plastic CGI, the sort of gear that makes a scene look about as authentic as the NASA moon landing.
All the elements from the old Indiana Jones films are definitely there, in quantities large enough to give those with fond memories of the fedora-wearing adventurer at least half a proverbial bar. If you're a die-hard Indiana Jones fan, go and see it - don't let a cynical prick like me put you off. Hell, you even get a Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen) cameo for good measure. The problem is when you take the stock standard Indy formula and toss in that freeze-dried crap, ala sci-fi, you've probably already lost half of your die-hard Indiana Jones fans in the first ten minutes. If you didn't lose them in the first ten minutes, usually with a lot of coughs that sound like someone muttering the word 'bullshit' into a clenched fist, chances are those last ten chuckle-worthy minutes are going to finish them off like a Mortal Kombat fatality.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Quantum of Solace (2008)
He's not a Bond villain. He's just a very naughty boy!
After Tomorrow Never Dies, I vowed to never watch another modern James Bond film again. Nothing against Brosnan, but after enduring the over-the-top rubbish that was being pumped out with our Irish friend at the helm, I gave up on 007 all together. Maybe it was the fact that I had grown out of the whole teenage fascination with the misogynistic martini-swilling agent, or maybe it was the fact that I was sick to death of watching Brosnan defeat an entire evil organization without even getting out of his gadgeted car - regardless of the motivating factor, the whole shebang just wasn't doing it for me anymore. Let's face it, Bond films just regurgitate the same tired formula over and over and over again. I craved to see a new, fresh take on Bond: I wanted dark and gritty action without the need to appease the popcorn-swilling morons via the use of enough explosives to level a third-world nation. It took almost a decade for Bond to finally change his ways, but Casino Royale rekindled my interest... well, at least enough interest to endure Quantum of Solace.
Now let's get this straight, personally I really don't care about the new versus old Bond debate, I have no issue with Daniel Craig as Bond, I don't care about a lack of gadgets... but just about everything else the critics have said about this film is more or less true. Your average film goer is probably going to be in one of the two following mindsets by the end of the first reel: either scratching their heads wondering what the hell is going on, or two, finding themselves so disinterested in the film that they are going to tune out for the next hour and a half. You can only take so many pointless car and boat chases before you switch off.
The story lacked anything resembling an intriguing hook, it was all over the shop, and the villain was, for the lack of a better term, absolutely pissweak. Aside from tying up some loose ends with Vesper, the film consisted of Bond flit-farting from one part of the world to the other on the trail of a mysterious group called Quantum. Usually the word 'mysterious' would conger up notions of intrigue and excitement - negative, this group seemed to be about as boring as the operas they choose to convene their secret meetings at. I'm sure we will find out more about this Quantum group in the next film, but if they are all as limp-wristed as our featured villain, Dominic Greene, it would be safe to presume that I won't give a rat's proverbial by then.
I can't even call this guy a villain and keep a straight face - Bond dropping a bar of soap in front of Richard Simmons would have warranted a higher threat level than this croissant-eating joker. He's an insult to actual villains everywhere... in fact, he's so pissweak that he even makes the average Cockney geezer from a Guy Ritchie film look like a criminal mastermind in comparison. Our Bond 'villain' is nothing more than a French environmentalist whose only real dastardly deed is to legitimately buy-up huge tracts of land in order to dam the water and sell it back to the inhabitants at exorbitant prices. Somebody call the Prime Minster, he's a Capitalist! No, this villain wasn't planning to destroy a country, let alone plotting for world domination... at least not in any traditional sense. Greene was just some scumbag businessman buying up land to make money - where the hell is the international threat in that? Where the hell is there any real threat worth the price of cinema admission? Sure, it's probably immoral, but since when did MI6 care about immoral? Quantum of Solace may have bloody well been better served as an episode of Scooby Doo - it sure as hell isn't worth James Bond's time! Plot and villain issues aside, Quantum of Solace did string together a few semi-decent action setpieces... well, that's assuming you could work out what the hell was happening. While I'm not going to blame the Bourne series for spawning the rapid-cut shaky cam hard-on in modern action films, rather merely bringing the technique back into vogue, let's just say that there were numerous times during fights and shootouts where the audience couldn't even determine who was getting shot, stabbed, punched or killed. It was so confusing at points I even heard a few people in the darkness of the cinema mutter phrases like 'was that Bond that just got shot?', or 'what the hell is going on?'. If you are claiming to be an action/thriller and your audience is struggling to follow those actions and thrills, you know you have a major problem on your hands.
Just before I wrap-up this scattershot review, I quickly want to mention a couple of small points about characters and characterization. Firstly, the Bond Girl (Olga Kurylenko) was very bloody ordinary, both in talent and looks. Secondly, what was all that rubbish that Craig was spouting in promos about Bond using the death of Vesper to soul search and become stronger: I think the quote was along the lines of 'he needed a quantum of solace to find himself'. If looking into the camera and pulling a Muhammad-I'm-Hard-Bruce-Lee pose is Bond's attempt at soul searching and finding himself, and the writer's attempt at characterization in order to make Bond a more fleshy character, man, don't even bother.
Normally I like to be pretty thorough with my reviews, but the critics before me have said just about all that needed to be said when it comes to Quantum of Solace. The plot is dull and can be difficult to follow, the villain is an absolute joke, and the action scenes were so hard to follow at times. After Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace was a major letdown.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
The Happening (2008)
Move along. There's nothing happening here.
I tend to take everything that I read on the Internet with a grain of salt, but given the steady stream of rumblings from the Internet crowd pronouncing that The Happening was pretty bad, I felt that I needed to take a look for myself. Now normally I wouldn't give the Average Joe's opinion much weight, but the fact that The Happening had slipped to the Movie of the Week at my local cinema in the space of seven days, it gave some credence to what I had been hearing - The Happening just wasn't happening.
For once, I'm in complete agreement with the Average Joe.
I'm not going to reveal too much of the plot, just on the off chance that you might actually want to see The Happening, but like most of Shyamalan's films, the less you know about it going in the better. Okay, so here's the basic setup: The Happening revolves around a family on the run from a largely unexplained natural disaster with the potential to cripple the continental United States possibly even the entire world. The story opens in New York City, where we are soon alerted to the fact that an inordinate number of citizens appear to be topping themselves in bizarre and gruesome fashions. In typical Yank overreaction, fueled by media hype, the nation suspects that they are in the midst of an advanced biological terrorist attack from enemy, or enemies unknown.
In all honesty, the premise for The Happening sounded reasonably interesting akin to the sort of inventive horror fare that you might expect to see coming out Japan or Korea. Despite the fact that the theatrical trailers hinted at this film being another one of those 'end of the world' blockbusters that crop-up around this time every year, much to Shyamalan's credit, the film doesn't rely on clichéd explosions and ridiculous action setpieces to entertain. Instead, the meat of the film revolves around the random collection of characters and their relationships as they try and escape the chaos enveloping them. The protagonists (for a lack of a better word) will certainly act as a catalyst for some amusing/interesting debates once the credits roll. Come to think of it, this sounds like familiar territory. It's been well publicized that the director is a devotee of Alfred Hitchcock hmm, I can't help but think that The Happening may be Shyamalan's homage to Hitchcock's The Birds
obviously minus the titular birds, oh, and the fact that The Happening was bloody terrible.
As mentioned previously, The Happening doesn't need to rely on expensive CGI effects or massive explosions to tell the story it's all about the characters and their journey. Now just about anyone with an IQ above twenty should be able to appreciate a character-driven story, but what happens when your characters are idiotic and unlikable? What happens when the very actors portraying those characters put in a performance that would rival a plank of wood
or, dare I say, maybe even Keanu Reeve's on his best day?
I don't know if Shyamalan was specifically going for a C-Grade horror movie feel, but from the woeful banter between two characters on a park bench in the opening scene, to the foreboding few last seconds of celluloid, I almost thought that I was watching some well-financed film student's end-of-term project that had found its way onto the big screen. Think Italian Spiderman with a multi-million dollar budget.
The acting was absolutely woeful preschool pageant woeful. I haven't cringed that much during a film since Ed Norton stomped some black kids teeth into the gutter in American History X, nor have I been that embarrassed for another human being since Richard Simmons appeared on Whose Line Is It Anyway. The whole cast sucked. Period. While I'm not going to single-out anyone for a special mention, I was expecting a lot more from a line-up that contained the likes of Mark Wahlberg and John Leguizamo. I almost had the feeling that they were having a laugh
was this for real? Did they skim over the script, find out who/what the protagonists were and collectively decided to ham it up purely in protest? If you want ham, have Bruce Campbell on speed dial.
If the poor acting didn't kill all immersion in the story, the characters sure will. It's hard enough trying to emotionally invest in the well-being of a bunch of clowns who can barely deliver their lines in any sort of credible fashion, but multiply that by a hundred when those characters are also complete morons. Their motivations. The idiotic crap that came out of these characters mouths. I'm going to lay the blame squarely at the feet of Shyamlan and his screenplay. Case in point, take the hippie plant nursery owner espousing the virtues of the humble American hotdog like the director was getting a kickback from the National Hotdog Foundation... oh, or what about the lone soldier doing his best Gomer Pyle impression. Christ, even Pyle wouldn't have been caught dead uttering the phrase "cheese and crackers" when the world is going to Hell in a handbasket.
After twenty minutes in, I couldn't give a toss as to whether these characters lived forever or died that very instant.
I've decided to keep this review relatively short and sweet - I was going to go on an atypical rant about how M. Night Shyamalan is the most overrated director working in Hollywood today, how his work is little more than a film student homage to Alfred Hitchcock films, and how he struck it lucky with The Sixth Sense
but meh, slamming Shyamlan is almost a national sport these days. After watching The Happening, I really can't be bothered wasting any more time on this guy the proof is in the pudding.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Get Smart (2008)
Missed it by a bloody mile!
I'd like to inform you that I've decided to review Get Smart as a big screen adaption of the popular television series. Hell, I figure that if you are going to borrow heavily from an existing source, at least expect the obvious comparisons - deep down inside I owe Don Adams, Barbara Feldon and company something resembling a no-holds-barred comparison.
Speaking objectively, the 2008 re-envisioning doesn't really deviate too far from that core ethos of Get Smart
at least on the surface. The plot is basic: CONTROL headquarters has been destroyed by an explosion, and the identities of all the major field agents becoming compromised, resulting in the newly-promoted Agent 86, Maxwell Smart (Steve Carell) and Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway) teaming-up to thwart a KAOS attempt to kill the President of the United States. Okay, it's not going to win any Oscars for originality, but as I'll happily concede, so far the film still more or less sounds like any regular Get Smart episode. Right?
Okay, let's start with the casting/characters. Nearly all of the main characters were there: Maxwell Smart, Agent 99, The Chief, Siegfried, Starker, Larabee heck, even our robotic friend Hymie pops-up for a cameo. Okay, so far, so good? Negative. I know it's impossible to accurately recast some of these iconic characters down to the smallest detail, and I wouldn't expect them to, but truthfully there were some really odd casting choices, and in some cases, even complete personality-bypasses bestowed. Now I know what you are thinking - you're waiting for me to rip into the two leads, right? Well you'd be wrong. Personally, I had no major issue with the Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway. Carell cops a lot of stick on the Interwebs, but I can't seem to think of another modern comedic actor who could have filled Don Adam's shoes better - any perceived failing on Carell's behalf was really a result of the pathetic material he had to work with. Likewise, Hathaway was an equally decent casting choice for Agent 99 - she's sexy and feisty, and like her male lead, she really was at the mercy of the material. With Carell it was the flat comedic setups, in Hathaway's case it was one of those personality-bypasses I mentioned earlier. For the life of my I don't remember Agent 99 being such a hard-nosed bitch? I'll lay the blame squarely at the feet of the screenwriters for that, shall I? So as you can tell, the leads didn't tick me off, it was more the supporting cast. Let's start with Siegfried (Terrance Stamp). As much as I like Stamp, really, this was an odd choice for the villain. Not only did our limey friend drift in and out of his dodgy German accent at the drop of a hat, but he was sans Siegfried's trademark mustache! You can't have Siegfried without the mo! That's a bloody outrage! I breathe deep, trying to forget all about Siegfried. Suddenly I'm reminded of his henchman, the solid, square-jawed Starker. Maybe it was the forty year hiatus, but somehow our lovable Eastern Bloc meathead has morphed into a short, fat, Middle-Eastern beardo. What the hell!
One piece of casting that I did love was James Caan as the President - very George W. Bush! Caan is a legend.
At least there was some action, right? Overall the general action setpieces were fine, however the gunfights and hand-to-hand scenes, while well done, were completely out of place in a Get Smart film. Very out of place, like Robocop raising a barn in an Amish community. What do I mean? Well, when I think Get Smart, or generally any other sort of comedy/action spoof, I usually think of slightly drawn-out, almost unbelievable gunfights and asskickings. There was none of that to be seen in this film. I was very surprised (almost impressed) at how sharp and concise the gunfights were - apparently the new Maxwell Smart is a crackshot with a pistol. Forget about torrents of bullets ricocheting around the place, the gunplay was very much of the 'one shot, one kill' mentality - bad guys were dispatched with a slug the second they appeared on the screen. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to see more of this gear in regular action films, but somehow it all felt very out of place in a Get Smart film
Okay... okay... surely there were some laughs? Get Smart is supposed to be a comedy, right? I think I practically lost count of the number of miserably unfunny set-ups or jokes that fell as flat as lead balloon (like the jokes in this review). I chuckled at a couple of jokes, but ultimately most of my laughs from Get Smart came in the form of unintentional stuff-ups. Example: The Chief is flying a small plane through the city and Maxwell Smart is hanging onto the wheel for dear life as he tries to climb back in. The Chief says something like "Hold on" and then, wait for it, he proceeds to do a full barrel-roll in the plane, almost shaking Maxwell loose in the process. What the hell?
Get Smart failed to hit a home run on any level. As an adaption of the old television series, this effort didn't even come close to capturing the magic of original. As a standalone film, there's really nothing new to bring to the table that Austin Powers or a similar spy spoof hasn't already done before, and probably a lot better.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Hancock (2008)
Do I have permission to touch your body, Charlize?
Cards on the table time - I find it really difficult to get excited about Will Smith films. Nothing against the Fresh Prince personally, but let's be honest, the majority of his films are little more than pointless big-budget popcorn-fests. Yeah, so I wasn't the only one who spotted that trend either? There's actually a good reason for the types of projects that Will Smith takes on. Apparently when he first made his way to Hollywood, he sat down with his agent/manager and examined the top ten grossing films of all time to find out what was going to make the phat cash. Guess what? They realized that almost every film in the top ten was a pointless big-budget popcorn-fest. While I applaud Will Smith's commitment to mediocrity, when is this guy going to take on some more meaningful roles - I actually thought he did a great job in The Pursuit of Happiness. Leave the blockbusters to the chumps, Will. Come on, surely you must be sick of buying ivory backscratchers and banging your wife on piles of hundred dollar bills? I sure as hell know that I am.
Poor attempts at humor aside, Will Smith's latest offering is the action/comedy Hancock. Before you start sniggering into the back of your hand like an imbecile, Hancock tells the story of an out of favor superhero that enters into an arrangement with a public relations officer intent on improving his image with the public, only to find himself in a questionable relationship with the mans wife.
The concept of the down-on-his-luck superhero trying to regain a little acceptance appealed to me the alcoholic, foul-mouthed superhero John Hancock (Will Smith) fumbling and stumbling through life and causing general chaos was pretty entertaining for the first twenty or thirty minutes. You and I live in a world where superheroes are completely fictitious, but imagine if a superhero did exist, a superhero that was so obnoxious and reckless that you couldn't stand the sight of the guy? This is the world we are introduced to, evident by the opening scenes where Hancock practically destroys half the city in order to apprehend a group of robbers. Rather than applause and appreciation, our hero gets nothing but abuse and the threat of legal action.
I was kind of digging Hancock at this point but then I started to wonder how they were going to drag this out for ninety minutes.
This was about the time we were introduced to Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman), an equally down-on-his-luck public relations guy who finds himself being rescued by the aforementioned John Hancock. In debt to Hancock, Ray brings his saviour home and offers to use his PR skills to rebuild the superheros public image. Okay, this could certainly be interesting, at least that's what I thought until we were introduced to Ray's wife, Mary (Charlize Theron). This was pretty much the point in the film where it went straight down the toilet.
Without giving away too much more of the story, even Blind Freddy could have seen that there was some sort of strange connection between Hancock and Ray's wife we did't know exactly what it was at the time, but the countless uncomfortable glances and odd looks from the beautiful Miss Theron were about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the family jewels. I know that was the whole point, but come on, it was bloody painful to watch.
Cue the 'twist', for a lack of a better word, and cue the flushing of a toilet. As far as I was concerned, at this point any semblance of interest in the original setup had pretty much been taken out into the Pine Barrens and shot in the back of the cranium. *Boom headshot!* Man, what a waste - it was a complete mess. I'd really love to extrapolate on what I'm trying to dance around, but I don't want to ruin the film for anyone who genuinely wants to watch it.
Ridiculous plot twists aside, the overall acting and performance from the cast was pretty decent. We all know that Will Smith can hold his own on the screen; he's a bona fide veteran of the blockbuster, and his vulnerable John Hancock is a definite crowd pleaser. Charlize takes somewhat of a backseat to Smith, once again proving that she is not only a quality piece of ass, but a chick that can mix-up the role of a love interest and action goddess. However, of all the leads, I must say that I enjoyed seeing Jason Bateman on the big screen I absolutely loved him in Arrested Development, so to see him in this film was a definite bonus.
Overall, Hancock had a lot of potential: an interesting premise, a good cast, humor, but a sloppy, a poor story arc/plot twist that completely and utterly ruined the film. Apparently the original screenplay for Hancock, known as 'Tonight, He Comes' has been floating around Hollywood for a good ten years or more, and the word on the street is that it is actually a hell of a lot better than this reworked piece of junk. It's a shame really, Hancock could have been pretty good.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Mr Green meet Mr. Orange.
The Incredible Hulk has been touted as a reboot of The Hulk franchise by all involved. Written by Zack Penn (Behind Enemy Lines, X Men 2), and apparently rewritten by Edward Norton in his typical control-freak style, think of this film in the same vein in which 'Batman Begins' rebooted the Batman series - so if you were unfortunate enough to have watched Ang Lee's earlier attempt, you could do a lot worse than forget you had ever seen it.
Since The Incredible Hulk is a reboot of an already well-known tale, don't go into the film expecting any sort of real origin storyline this isn't Iron Man; you don't get the luxury of spending an hour watching Robert Downey Jr. build a metal suit inside a darkened cave while snorting lines of cocaine off of a hookers ass. Instead, the viewer gets dumped straight into The Hulk's world armed with little more than a clichéd thirty second introduction, comprised primarily of brief Vietnam-style flashbacks and various assembled newspaper-clippings. You know the type headlines: "Giant Green Yeti Touched My Wife", "A Sasquatch Ate My Baby" just enough exposition for the simpletons in the audience to surmise that the filmmakers are referring to the big green guy that they just spent thirteen bucks to watch. The assumption is that the viewer already knows enough about The Hulk and his origin to make it through the one-hundred and fourteen minute running time, and if they don't, and that's a big 'if', they probably should have bought a ticket to the latest Adam Sandler flick.
With introductions quickly dispensed, The Incredible Hulk picks up in the heart of Brazil, where we find fugitive Bruce Banner (Edward Norton) working a dead-end job in a juice factory, attempting to come to terms with controlling his giant green alter-ego. Living in Brazil? Living in Brazil with hot Brazilian women? Okay, I must have missed the memo to the Office of Big Swinging Dicks. Apparently in the short time period since last months issue of Cleo, and the theatrical window that we call 'ten minutes ago', Banner came to the conclusion that it was somehow undesirable to be hanging out with hot Brazilian poon and watching Portuguese Sesame Street in his jocks like a ghetto pimp. As a symptom of what could only describe as undiagnosed jungle fever, Banner decides that simply controlling his alter-ego isn't enough - he wants a cure. That illusive cure comes in the form of research undertaken by a mysterious US-based scientist working under the codename Mister Blue. The only problem with finding a cure Mister Blue needs to meet Mister Green in the flesh, which involves Banner travelling back to the good ol' US of A. It doesn't sound that difficult does it? You'd almost be justified in thinking that, well, that is until Bruce Banner's cover is blown via the most weak of plot devices (the only reason to have Banner working in a juice factory). On the run again, Banner must flee from a US Army recovery team aided by an elite Russian-born soldier by the name of Emil Blonsky (Tim Roth).
From a cast standpoint, The Incredible Hulk sports a pretty solid line-up: Edward Norton as Bruce Banner, Liv Tyler as Betty Ross, William Hurt as General Ross, and the extremely underrated Tim Roth as Emil Blonsky. Sure, the cast probably won't make your average film buff cream their pants with anticipation, but the cast is definitely decent by any standards. Edward Norton does a competent job of playing Bruce Banner - I just didn't feel that there was any great emotional range to the character. Maybe it is just the way Norton rolls, but as a viewer I didn't feel any tangible growth or journey with Bruce Banner. Direction-wise, Louis Leterrier (Transporter 2, Unleashed) takes the helm of this popcorn-fest - an interesting choice given his track record, or more accurately, lack of a track record. Despite my apprehensions, Leterrir does a commendable job with The Incredible Hulk. Although I guess when you have so much invested in special effects, and Edward Norton stealth-editing your final cut behind your back, it's kind of difficult to screw the pooch too badly. Speaking of CGI, I'm reminded as to one major thing that always put me off watching Ang Lee's The Hulk - aside from the lack of interest in the character, I was always turned-off by how cornball the CGI looked. There are some films where you can hide bad CGI, and there are some films where you can't - when your major character is a nine feet tall giant green monster, it's like trying to hide Rosanne Barr's naked carcass somewhere in the pages of a Swimsuit Illustrated calendar. It's going to stick out like the proverbial dogs balls. Fortunately for The Incredible Hulk, the CGI was actually quite well done. Sure, there were points in the film when I thought I was watching cutscenes from Gears of War, or when the action hit the streets of downtown Harlem, Cloverfield, but overall the CGI appeared to be a vast improvement from its predecessor.
Overall, The Incredible Hulk was watchable. However, I did utter the words "is that it" after the lights in the cinema came back up so it's safe to say that I was slightly underwhelmed by the whole experience. Maybe I was expecting a bit too much from a humble popcorn superhero flick, or alternatively, and more likely, maybe it simply wasn't that spectacular. Just average. Not good. Not great. In hindsight, maybe you need to see the Ang Lee version to really be able to appreciate The Incredible Hulk? Either way, if you love the character of The Hulk, love Ed Norton, or just love touching yourself to Liv Tyler in the dark, you could do a lot worse than drop your money on The Incredible Hulk.
Edit excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
In Bruges (2008)
The Iron Chef of karate-chopping midgets
I love a good black comedy Miles Davis struck-match black. When I say 'black comedy', no, I'm not talking about Barbershop, or any other rubbish with Ice Cube in it, I'm talking about comedy that combines the morbid and grotesque in order to convey the absurdity and cruelty of life. So when I finally finished watching an advanced copy of 'In Bruges', the first thing I did was run out onto the street and scream "Halle-bloody-lujah!" to the sky
well, figuratively. Finally a decent film! Here I was thinking that I was going to die without having watched at least two good films this year.
Few cultures do black comedy better than the English/Irish.
Writer/Director Martin McDonagh's first full-length feature film, In Bruges, tells the story of two contract killers who are forced to hole up in Bruges, Belgium after a recent hit in London goes south. Waiting on further instruction from their employer, the mysterious Harry Waters (Ralph Fiennes), Ken (Brendan Gleeson) the older, seasoned professional and Ray (Colin Farrell) the younger, inexperienced rookie begin to realize how different their perspectives of life, death and redemption truly are.
Let me say straight off the bat that In Bruges won't be everyone's cup of tea, but if you love dark British crime films like Lock Stock, chances are you will enjoy this offering from McDonagh. In Bruges can only be described is a multilayered breath of fresh air: it's violent, it's crass, it's absurd, it's touching, and it's as funny as hell.
In Bruges revolves around two men with a unique sense of moral flexibility. Dumped onto a train and sent to Bruges in order to wait it out until the heat dies down from their last job they have two weeks to wait for a phone call from their boss. So how do a couple of hired guns kill time in one of Europe's most intact medieval cities? They go sightseeing of course. The film instantly drops us into the interesting dynamic between the two lead characters Ken and Ray: Ken wants to get out and experience the culture and atmosphere of the city, while Ray is the complete opposite, content to stay in his hotel room and wallow in self-pity that is until he meets a young woman on the set of a local film. As the story unfolds, we learn more about the botched hit in London, and as a result, we learn more about what motivates our two leads. Throw a drugged-up midget into the mix and our two hit men are set for an intriguing, if slightly predictable climax.
I couldn't fault a great deal in terms of the acting or characters. At first I found it a little difficult to picture Brendan Gleeson as the seasoned contract killer, but any objections quickly faded-away as the story picked-up. Likewise with Colin Farrell's character he did come across as a bit of a sniveling girl, not exactly Farrell's strong suit from an acting standpoint, but I soon forgot all about that the instant I became immersed in the story. Once it became evident that McDonagh opted-out of going with characters that resembled two-dimensional cardboard cut-outs from your typical Hollywood action film, the experience washed-over me in a satisfying wave. I went with the story
I went on the journey... and I loved it.
Why the hell can't Hollywood make these sorts of films: interesting characters, an engaging story, touching moments, and some wicked black humor?
There I was, less than twenty minutes into the film and cackling my head off at Farrell's character insulting a group of rather rotund American tourists. Then it suddenly hit me like a bullet to the forehead, I can't remember laughing this hard or this much at any of the films I've reviewed recently. Combined. Get Smart and Hancock maybe resulted in one or two genuine laughs, but I was only twenty minutes into In Bruges and I already had a massive smile on my face. The laughs didn't stop there, trust me.
Don't be worried if the name Martin McDonagh doesn't ring a bell, I hadn't heard of the guy before going into this film either. Having done a little research on the man since, it appears that McDonagh is quite an accomplished playwright-cum-filmmaker who has won more Olivier Awards for his plays than I've had hot meals. I suspect that the director's theatre experience is an integral part as to why In Bruges is such a great film there's a sense of intimacy and polish to In Bruges that is such an important part of playwriting.
Overall I really enjoyed In Bruges an absolute breath of fresh air compared to the dreck that comes out of Hollywood these days. If God did exist, and if I actually believed in a god, I'd have to thank him for the dark wit of our European friends in the UK and Ireland. I only had two small criticisms of In Bruges. The first: without giving anything way, I must admit that the last fifteen minutes of the film were pretty predictable but for me, I still loved every second of it. The second criticism: it almost felt like I was watching a Belgian Tourist Commission advertisement for Bruges - I'd almost swear that the director was getting a kick-back from the local government to bestow the virtues of Bruges and its incredible history... only to have that notion torn-away every time Collin Farrell's character mentioned how much of a hole Bruges was. Ultimately, neither of those minor niggles detracted from the film as a whole if you love English black humor then In Bruges is absolutely worth the trip to the cinema or video store.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
The X Files: I Want to Believe (2008)
I was praying for werewolves.
For all intents and purposes, The X-Files: I Want To Believe is a standalone story set after the completion of the television series, and bares little, if any, connection to the 1998 movie The X-Files: Fight The Future. Set in the present day, Mulder (David Duchovny) and Scully (Gillian Anderson) are called back to assist the FBI when a former priest claims to be receiving psychic visions pertaining to a kidnapped agent. Like the good old days, Mulder and Scully must work together and solve the mystery in order to save the life of this kidnapped FBI agent - that's assuming that they are not already too late.
It's hard to believe that it has almost been ten year since I watched the original X-Files film, Fight the Future, at my local cinema. To be honest, I can't really remember a great deal about the film, aside from the fact that it had something to do with bees, alien invasions, that alien bounty hunter and some sort of government conspiracy - I've never bothered to re-watch Fight The Future in the decade since. Films based on TV series rarely work as a contained two hour piece of work, and given the way that the television show ended with a whimper, this new incarnation already had a fight on its hands trying to garner interest from a guy who considered himself a fan, let alone Joe Q Public. Even the trailer failed to do this film any favours: Billy Connelly running around in the snow like a headless chicken for two minutes - it was hardly going to pull anyone except for die-hard X-Files fans.
Hmm, you know what? Billy Connelly running around in the snow like a headless chicken... the trailer was absolutely spot on. I'd love to spoil the entire film right here and now, not because I'm a complete tool, rather I'd love to spoil it just to save you some hard-earned cash. However I won't ruin it for you. Just let me say that the storyline is, well, absolutely pathetic. Completely and utterly pathetic. Pathetic to the point that it would barely cut the mustard as a standalone one hour episode, let alone a film that warrants nearly two hours of screen time and the price of a cinema ticket.
What have we got? We have a missing FBI agent. We have a pedophile priest (is there any other type) that seems to have some sort of physic powers that are used to guide the FBI in tracking this missing agent. We have the FBI running around on the whim of this priest, finding clue after clue with no worthy explanation of his powers. We follow him here, we follow him there, we follow this priest everywhere. Whenever the story is getting a bit slow, up pops our favourite banjo-playing comedian with yet another out-of-the-blue physic prediction. Quick Scully, to the Batmobile! Suddenly off we roll from one crime scene to the next, guided by a physic priest - now if that isn't Deus Ex Machina on steroids, then I'm a monkey. I almost get the feeling that Chris Carter just forgot how to use good old story telling devices like, well, you know, finding clues and stuff in order to move the story along. Even the kids show Blue's Clues got that much right.
If all of that that wasn't painful enough, Carter also decides to pepper the entire story with religious leanings, spearheaded via an exploration of the Dana Scully character. While there were a number of X-Files cases that dealt with religion, Carter lays it on so thick that this film should have been called The X-Files : I Want To Believe In God. Personally, I don't give a rat's proverbial about which fictional character you pray to at night, but the whole theme became pretty sickening by the time the film reached its conclusion. Theological pontificating may be fine in small doses, but not constantly throughout the course of a feature-length film.
Maybe I'm a tad harsh? Nope, they had a decade to get this right. Of course when you rubbish a film like this, the typical response from fanboys and fangirls will undoubtedly be that you didn't understand the complexities of the interpersonal dynamics, and that this film is far too intellectual for a rapscallion such as yourself. My response: get bent. There's nothing I like to do more only a Saturday night than to meet up with my Yale buddies and wax lyrical about the misinterpretation of William Wordsworth and similar pioneers of the Romantic Age of poetry, well, either that or we just sit around and do a lot of cocaine... but let's not kid ourselves - this was absolute rubbish. No self-respecting screenwriter would be caught dead trying to use such Deus Ex Machina crap in order to move a story along, even in a film with a potential for supernatural leanings. I'm surprised that Carter has - maybe he's been off the horse far too long.
Typically with films like The X-Files: I Want To Believe, your humble reviewer can simply play a Get Out Of Jail Free card and say 'this is a must for die-hard fans'. I'm not going to play that card here, I suspect that even die-hard fans may find this film extremely disappointing.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Wanted (2008)
What the hell have you done lately?
Okay, so here's my 'world first' idea. Do you remember reading those 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books as a kid? Basically you read a few paragraphs and at the end of the page you are presented with a choice. Now if you were like me, you probably didn't even bother to read the text, instead you just skipped right to the next choice? Yeah, I bet you did. You look like the sort of punk who would. Anyway, what I want to do here is a 'world first' in film reviewing - yes, I want to do a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' film review.
It's pretty simple: read both of the options below and choose the one which suits you best.
Option #1: I am completely happy and content with my job, my partner, and my life in general. If you answered 'yes' - stop reading this review right now! Instantly give this film a zero, close your web browser, and happily go about your awesomely awesome life... you smarmy little prick.
- Alternatively -
Option #2: My life sucks balls. I feel like eating a gun every god damn morning I wake up. I am counting the days until I go on a killing spree with an AK47 at my local post office. If you answered 'yes', welcome to the fraternity. Please continue reading this review.
Hmmm. Chances are you went with Option #2, didn't you, you emo little punk?
So what is my grand theory? Well, my theory is that if you are content and happy with your life, chances are you will absolutely hate Wanted.
'Inspired' by the graphic novel of the same name, Wanted tells the story of Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy), a Gen-Y slacker accountant who finds out that not only was his long lost father the world's greatest assassin, but the fact that his father was recently murdered, and the organization he worked for now wishes to recruit Wesley in order to eliminate the man who killed his father. Sounds like Citizen Kane, huh? Notice that I used the word 'inspired'. While I haven't read any of the Wanted graphic novels, generally I don't stray very far from The Punisher MAX series, the word on the street seems to indicate that the film shares very little in common with the graphic novel, aside from the obvious titular similarities.
First things first, Wanted is a 'leave your brain at the door' type of film - 'leave your brain at the door' being film reviewer code for 'most people will probably think that this is a complete piece of junk, but for some reason I kind of liked it'. The trailers tipped us off to the fact that this was going to be a big, dumb, over-the-top action film wrapped loosely in some ridiculous theme about fate, with a couple of gimmicks tacked-on to separate it from the herd. Yeah, that's more or less what you can expect. From the opening title card outlining a thousand year old order of assassins known as The Fraternity, followed closely by a Matrix-esq confrontation between one of their agents and a group of protagonists, we quickly realize that any grounding in reality has probably just vanished quicker than a rapper at the scene of a drive-by. While I'm not going to give too much of the story away here, let's just say that we see our Fraternity agent leap through an office building window a hundred meters in the air, across the city skyline, over to another building at least fifty meters away. Yep, those patrons in the audience that aren't familiar with the concept of the suspension of disbelief are going to be in for a rude shock.
Oh, and then there's the infamous bullet-curving from the trailer...
I can't remember the bullet-curving gimmick being adequately explained anywhere in the film, but then again, there was so much 'out there' stuff going on that I had all but given up on finding logic by that stage... I certainly wasn't in the mood to question known ballistic trajectory theory. I just decided to roll with it.
The main thing that works in Wanted's favor is the whole Gen-Y slacker angle. Like I mentioned previously, Wanted is little more than an average action film with a couple of gimmicks - the element that will ultimately strike a chord with the average viewer will be Wesley Gibson's potential transformation from a nobody into a cold-blooded killing machine. Wesley is a pussy, even by this own admission. He's stuck in a dead-end job, he's flat broke, his girlfriend is cheating on him with his best friend and he can't even be bothered to do anything about it - he has absolutely no purpose in life... and he gets to repeat this routine on a daily basis. Wesley Gibson could easily be you or I.
Is it obvious that I'm trying to delay the inevitable? Okay, I'm going to have to score this thing soon enough.
Wanted is an interesting creature. I came into the film almost wanting to hate it - I wanted to hate it purely because it looked like yet another over-the-top graphic novel adaptation in a sea of over-the-top graphic novel adaptations. If you boiled the film down into its base components, realistically there's not a lot to it... but there was just something about the damn thing that struck a chord in me. Maybe it's the fact that I'm just a nobody like Wesley Gibson, a nobody struggling for identity and purpose, a nobody who would happily spend his days banging Angelina Jolie and doing a little contract killing on the side.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
The Dark Knight (2008)
How about a magic trick?
Directed by Christopher Nolan (Memento, The Prestige) and penned in conjunction with his brother Jonathan Nolan, this powerhouse collaborative team brings us The Dark Knight, the highly anticipated sequel to Batman Begins. While the 2005 reboot of the Batman franchise dealt primarily with his origins, The Dark Knight sees Batman (Christian Bale) and Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) join forces with Gotham's new District Attorney, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), to take on a deranged bank robber known only as The Joker (Heath Ledger). Of course it's never quite as simple as battling just the one villain, after some shady underworld business dealings go wrong, just about every criminal scumbag in Gotham is now gunning for both Batman and The Joker.
From the opening scene through to the inevitable conclusion, Nolan grabs you firmly by the shirt collar, like Batman dangling a Gotham hoodlum from a rooftop. You expect him to grow tired, to falter and let you splat on to the vicious street below. But he never does. If you thought that Batman Begins was dark, gritty and action-packed, think again - The Dark Knight turns the intensity up to eleven, and once it has you in its grip, it never lets go. The fights. The car chases. The vicious cat-and-mouse game between Batman and The Joker. The twists and turns.
For me, watching The Dark Knight was akin to running an emotional marathon. It had nothing to do with the films length - I'm toilet trained and older than five years old, so I've got no issue with longish films - it was the fact that after all was said and done, I came out the other side with a feeling of being completely wrecked. Maybe that's the sign of a good film? Maybe that's the sign of a film that tried to cram too much into it? I suspect it's a little from column A, and a little from column B. Like just about every comic book film floating around on the screen of late, there's always the propensity to try and give the audience ultimate bang-for-their-buck - too much exposition and intricacy in the story. Sure, the WTF-quotient wasn't exactly registering anywhere near David Lynch levels, but at times it felt like there were so many twists and deviations that the story became a little difficult to follow. Maybe it's my old age, or the fact that I chose the wrong day to stop sniffing glue, but it took me a while to figure out the point of Bruce Wayne's ludicrous CSI: Gotham attempt to pull a fingerprint from a shattered bullet.
Oh, and why is it that one villain is never enough for modern audiences? Apparently we need at least two. Christ, sometimes even three. I can certainly see how the two villain setup is useful for moving the story along, but generally more villains equals more backstories, more subplots and ultimately at least one or two villains that are never truly developed to their full potential. Well, that's assuming you don't want to push the running time past the two and a half hour mark. Frankly I found the second villain, Two Face, to be utterly pointless - if you are going to completely underuse a villain, then you should have made The Dark Knight solely about The Joker. I'm pretty certain Ledger's character could have easily carried the entire film.
If you sat through the entirety of Spiderman 3 without killing yourself, then you will know exactly what I mean about multiple villains. Fortunately The Dark Knight shits all over Spiderman 3 - I only watched it for the customary Bruce Campbell cameo. Honest.
What about the performances? Christian Bale as Batman I love The Bale, and while he does a good job as the Caped Crusader, I had a couple of issues with his performance. The first was the voice. Christ, I couldn't stop pissing myself laughing every time Batman opened his mouth: it was almost as if the Dark Knight not only had severe laryngitis, but throat cancer and a penchant for chain-smoking twenty packets of Winnie Blues a day. It was annoying to the point of distraction. Don't get me wrong, I understand why he does it, and I'm sure he did much the same thing in Batman Begins, but come on, like you can't tell it's just Bruce Wayne putting on a dodgy voice.
Then there's Heath Ledger. Wow. I didn't want to buy into all of this hype, but after seeing Ledger's Joker in The Dark Knight, I've got to admit that much of that hype was deserved. He absolutely blew the rest of the cast out of the water. Come to think of it, he completely blew Jack Nicholson's Joker out of the water as well. The mannerisms. The subtle nuances. The on screen presence. I've never really been a big fan of Ledger, but I was completely and utterly captivated by Ledger's performance as this psychotic agent of chaos. I was hypnotized every second he was on the screen.
Overall, The Dark Knight matches, if not surpasses Batman Begins on just about every level. It's a dark, non-stop thrill ride, and while the story felt a little convoluted at times, it is worth the price of admission for Heath Ledger alone. The Nolan brothers have certainly made a name for themselves in a short space of time: Memento, Insomnia, Batman Begins, The Prestige. Not a bad way to start a career by any standard. With Christopher's skill behind the camera, and Jonathan's ability to craft story, the future of Hollywood looks bright. If they can build on the momentum of The Dark Knight, I can't wait to see where the go with the third, and possibly final Batman film with the Nolan brothers at the helm.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Saw V (2008)
Please tell me that Jigsaw is dead?
I'm going to keep this review of Saw V reasonably short and sweet with four Saw films already under our belts, we should all know exactly what we are letting ourselves in for. Saw I was a little rough around the edges, but the ending was brilliant. Saw II, eh, I can't even remember. Saw III was little more than ninety-odd-minutes of gore and torture which should have wrapped-up the series nicely, but didn't. Saw IV just left me standing in the cinema car park spouting a torrent of obscenities at the heavens, a scene reminiscent of Jennifer Love Hugetits in 'I Know What You Did Last Summer'... obscenities that ranged from 'what the hell was that?' through to 'why the hell did they keep making these films, and why the hell do I keep paying to see them?'. So avid reader, you can imagine my enthusiasm when it came to reviewing Saw V? Oh well, it could have been worse... I could have been reviewing a Will Ferrell film instead.
Having summed-up my Saw experience pretty accurately in the introduction, I had to wonder what the hell was left for Saw V? We, the ticket-paying audience, have been lead to believe that Jigsaw apparently died back in Saw III, or at least that's what my fragile little mind can recall after the self-inflicted case of brain damage brought about from sitting through the logical abortion that was Saw IV. Now I use the word 'apparently' to allude to Jigsaw's death, because, let's face it, the writers love nothing more than to screw with the entire time line and history of the franchise with each new installment. Rather than the parallel time lines running through Saw IV, Saw V picks-up directly after the events of Saw IV - this time pitting Detective Hoffman (Costas Mandylor) and Agent Strahm (Scott Patterson) in a head-to-head battle over the investigation of the Jigsaw murders... all of this bubbling in the foreground while five brand new subjects are about to get a crash course in Jigsaw's very unique and equally effective rehabilitation program.
Now as much as I would like to sit here and rip the absolute crap out of Saw V, I can't, and I won't. Sure, overlooking the fact that the whole franchise has been done to death, Saw V was actually one of the better films in the franchise. While I haven't entirely made up my mind as to where I would rank Saw V in the scheme of things, I must admit that this new film addressed a lot of my own personal criticisms of Saw II through Saw IV. While the aforementioned sequels relied heavily on gore and torturous traps, avoiding some much needed focus on plot and storytelling, Saw V actually bucks this trend and devotes a lot more time to plot. While the screenwriters have opted to continue the trend of screwing with the narrative of the previous films, almost forcing us to concede that everything we knew about Jigsaw is probably wrong, there is a definite vibe from the earlier films. Gore fans shouldn't be too disappointed, but the storyline is the real winner in Saw V. Instead of the usual paper-thin story wrapped around numerous and varied methods of torture and means of death, Saw V intersperses the trials and tribulations of our five Jigsaw victims through a reasonably developed take on the Jigsaw/Saw mythos.
I must admit that the Saw series has always intrigued me more than other long running horror franchises, namely staples of the genre like 'Friday The 13th' or 'Nightmare On Elm Street'. Aside from the fact that Saw is a new brand for a new generation of horror fans, I found the whole backstory of two rookie Aussies making it big in Hollywood to be a fascinating tale. If I had my way, I'd love nothing more than to sit down with my two Antipodean brothers, Leigh Whannell and James Wan, and quiz them about everything Hollywood: especially the direction that the Saw franchise has taken.
Unfortunately (fortunately for their bank balances), Whannell's and Wan's baby has become an inevitable victim of its own success. When the boys killed Jigsaw at the end of Saw III, they must have put the studio in an uncomfortable position - how could they invariably kill off an incredible money-spinner along with him? Hell no. With Jigsaw's death, the audience now find themselves subjected to the continual retelling of the same story, however from a slightly different viewpoint. I certainly understand why they do it: without keeping the story fresh, Saw films have about as much going for them in the longevity stakes as Marilyn Manson has in the take-home-to-mother stakes: somewhere between 'not at all' and 'bugger all'. As painful as these retellings have become (for me at least), especially with Saw IV, without the opportunity to reinvent and re-envision the setup, Saw films are little more than a ninety minute pornos for sick bastards. You can only torture and torment the characters, and audience, so much before you lose them completely. Saw V amends some of these transgressions, but to be honest, I think it's really time to pull the pin on the franchise with Saw VI.
At the end of the day, it's really difficult to get that interested in these Saw films anymore - it's just the same old tired crap over and over. Don't get me wrong, the original Saw was inventive and fresh, but every inevitable sequel just feels like a case of flogging a dead cash cow. The sad thing is that the franchise probably costs bugger all to film compared to most Hollywood productions, and the punters are still streaming in to plonk down their money for a ticket. Ah well, if you love Saw, no doubt you will enjoy the sadism of Saw V... and Saw VI... and Saw VII...
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
Taken (2008)
Bond ain't got anything on Liam Neeson.
The latest rescue-slash-revenge film to hit our screens, Taken, tries to walk the fine line between the two classic character archetypes - family man and ultimate badass. When the estranged seventeen year old daughter of a former spy (Liam Neeson) is kidnapped while holidaying overseas, her father must call upon his unique skill set in order to rescue her before she becomes lost to the Eastern-European slave trade.
Liam Neeson kicking ass, and the potential of Maggie Grace showing a little - Taken had my full and undivided attention.
As with the majority of films that limp onto the silver screen these days, everything seems to be a remake of a remake, or at the very least, a rehash of a tired idea. What separates a stock-standard retelling, from something that will stay with you longer than a half-masticated corn kernel stuck in your teeth, will almost certainly come down to the execution. Take a well-worn concept, freshen it up a little, but ultimately pull it off with dedication and skill. While Taken is by no means perfect, it is a prime example of a well-executed retelling. Let's face it, the concept of a tough guys daughter getting kidnapped, and having said tough guy track her down, defeating a million bad guys in the process is hardly anything new. It's basically the plot of Commando, or a dozen similar films for that matter. What Taken does well is to play on this tried-and-true formula; it adds depth to the usual one-dimensional characters, and mixes it up in a giant cocktail shaker with stylistic elements that made films like The Bourne Identity such crowd-pleasers.
Our first encounter with former spy, Bryan, is less than exhilarating. You'd almost expect to see some incredible action set piece from his pre-retirement days, something that adequately introduces our brooding badass' action hero qualifications - negative. What we get is the image of Bryan asleep on the lounge at home, a well-thumbed pamphlet for a karaoke machine on his lap. He's after the perfect gift for his seventeen year old daughter's birthday, and from what we can establish, he's terribly indecisive when it comes to purchasing a present. It's kind of amusing that after less than two minutes of screen time, we've probably already experienced more character development and insight into our main character than we would experience in just about any other similar film. Amusing, and sad. On the surface, Bryan doesn't appear to be that different from you or I, he seemingly has the same faults, shortcomings and fears that we all do. It's not until his daughter is kidnapped that we see an entirely different side of Bryan emerge.
Following on from the initial character development, the film moves quickly onto the search for Kim, Bryan's daughter. With Bryan as our guide, we navigate the murky underworld of Paris, our former spy using every trick in his book to find clues of his daughter's whereabouts. Without giving away too much of the story from this point, our lead character pulls out all the stops. The action set pieces are amazing and uncompromising in their realism and brutality, and while there are occasional moments where the suspension of disbelief is crucial, for the most part it's very much on the money. Guns boom with a satisfying reverb, bullets hit their mark with dead-eye accuracy, and Bryan proves that nothing is sacred when it comes to getting his daughter back alive.
Now I'll be honest and say that Taken wasn't entirely perfect - I did have a few criticisms of the film. My first, and major beef was with our lead characters detective work when it came to tracking-down his daughter - somehow it all seemed far too 'path of least resistance', the quickest way to get from Point A to Point B. Everything felt too easy, even for a man who used to be a highly-trained intelligence operative. Rather than simply moving from one clue to the next, knowing exactly where to go and how to play his cards, I would have preferred to have had another fifteen or so minutes to pad out this side of the story - maybe even throwing in a few failed lines on inquiry just to make it a little more believable. Secondly, there were a few holes in the logic, like a particular scene where Bryan pretends to be a French police officer/intelligence operative, using a completely stock standard American accent - who the hell would buy that? Apparently the bad guys did. And last but not least, I did pick-up on a few editing issues. Take the scene where Bryan collects a fiber of the bad guys clothing - absolutely pointless. Nothing ever came of this scene. However that was minor compared to the most innocuous editing issue - key parts of the kidnap scene that seem to have gone missing. What do I mean? Well, I don't remember the daughter Kim yelling out any information on her attackers, as instructed by her father... yet Bryan seemed to have it all on tape when he passed it off to his CIA buddy for analysis.
Overall, Taken was a pleasant surprise. It's often difficult to tell what to expect from these types of co-funded foreign films, but this one was certainly worth the money. While some of the initial 'detective work' by Neeson's character seemed very effortless and simply the easiest way to get from Point A to Point B, i.e. straight into the action, the action scenes themselves certainly made up for any shortcomings. No punches were pulled. The world our characters inhabited was dark, unforgiving, and morally ambiguous, and as a result, the methods used to get his daughter back were as equally dark, unforgiving, and morally ambiguous. Forget about Bond and Bourne - these guys ain't got anything on Liam Neeson.
Edited excerpt from: www.youseenthat.com
My Name Is Bruce (2007)
What *Would* Bruce Campbell Do?
This film is unadulterated, straight-to-video schlock starring the one and only Bruce Campbell - arguably the greatest B actor of his generation. Think Maniac Cop... The Evil Dead... The Evil Dead 2... The Army of Darkness... Bubba Hotep... the guy who cameos in all the Spiderman films... the portly alco in Burn Notice. If you don't know the legend that is Bruce, stop reading this review right now! Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Do not attach a chainsaw to your severed hand and slice-up zombies with it.
My Name Is Bruce is definitely a film for the fans.
The plot is simple. When an obsessed Bruce Campbell fan, Jeff (Taylor Sharpe) unwittingly unleashes the Chinese God of War (and bean curds, go figure) upon the small Oregon town of Goldlick, the teenager attempts to enlist his screen idol Campbell into fighting the monster. Of course, in typical Campbell style, our smart-aleck actor is under the impression that the whole thing is just one giant birthday prank set up by his agent, Mills Toddner (Ted Raimi). Hilarity is bound to ensue - at least that would be the plan.
The film opens with a brief country tune from the mayor and police chief of Goldlick, outlining the legend of Guan-Di, a scene reminiscent of the indie zombie comedy, Dead and Breakfast. From this point we are thrust into the B-grade schlock that is My Name Is Bruce - immediately introduced to our die-hard Bruce Campbell fan, Jeff, a guy so obsessed that he can't seem to get laid due to 'the Bruce Cambell factor'. You'll know exactly what that means once he opens his mouth... well, that and the fact that he dresses like a emo tool. Within the first few minutes I almost wanted to eat a gun - every word that came out of Jeff's mouth was just a rehash of a Bruce Campbell line, lines that had already been rehashed about a million times in popular culture over the last decade. It was 'groovy' this, and 'give me some sugar, baby' that. Christ, it was so bad that I was almost about to reach for the remote control - I knew that it was meant to be a spoof, but man, this was painful. Fortunately I endured.
Once you make it through the god-awful setup, My Name Is Bruce starts to become a lot of fun.
Jeff finally drops the annoying dialog, the monster goes about its job of decapitating anyone it can find, our hero Bruce is introduced, the love interest (Grace Thorsen) is introduced, the in-jokes start flying, and even our old mate Ted Raimi pops in to pull his usual multi-character caper. Clearly the screenwriter, Mark Verheiden, has done his Bruce homework. While I'm not sure how much of the final product was influenced by Bruce Campbell's direction, the film has all the trappings of a dodgy B-grade piece of crap - the sort of junk you would embarrassingly rent from your local video store wearing a brown trench coat, baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. Yes, that scary bottom-of-the-shelf territory inhabited by the likes of Dolph Lungren, Steven Seagal, and yep, you guessed it, Bruce Campbell. It's all there: bad acting, cheesy dialog, cheesy special effects, an even cheesier monster, the semi-hot love interest, the reluctant antihero. It's the bread and butter for men like BC.
Some of the most memorable scenes and lines from the film derive from a sort of Simpsons-style humor.
*** START POTENTIAL SPOILERS ***
There's an amusing scene where the townsfolk confront Guan-Di in the forest, and once Campbell finally works out that the monster is real, he decides to retreat - fleeing as he fires his gun wildly behind him. In the process he accidentally takes out a heap of innocent townsfolk with each shot, often to the screams of 'arg, my ear!' or 'I got hit!'. Worth a chuckle. There's also another classic Simpsons-style scene where Campbell jumps into the back of a random passing truck in order to flee town, all the while cursing the idiots who live there, only to have the truck pull into a car park about ten metres down the road.
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It's not exactly highbrow, but you could do a lot worse. Combine this humor with numerous self-deprecating digs at Campbell, ala, 'and McHale's Navy sucked!', there's certainly enough laughs to fill the running time.
Like I said at the start of this review, My Name Is Bruce is wholly and solely aimed at Bruce Campbell fans. Don't even think about renting or watching this film if you've never seen one of his films - there's just so many self-references and in-jokes packed into eight-odd minutes of running time that at least 80% of the fun will go straight over your head. Sure, it might be a mildly amusing, but really your time is probably better spent familiarizing yourself with the masterworks of Bruce Campbell, i.e. go watch The Evil Dead instead.
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