Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011)

Director: Rob Marshall
Writers: Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott

There comes a time when a character has run out his/her/it’s/undecided journey, and any further character developments have been exhausted. When the character has become so well defined, the writers simply don’t know what to do with them. This is the reason why whenever Morgan Freeman appears in a film, he is destined / cursed to narrate it. Any further developments can often lead to parody. Captain Jack Sparrow is one of the most well-recognised icons of latter times. Pirates of the Caribbean – On Stranger Tides for this very reason lacks any conflict. With three films under his many belts, any further exploitations of the Captain just lack relevance. Captain Jack is at it again. By his very ambivalent nature the film lacks conflict. Nothing really phases the reluctant anti-hero. He’s there, but he wants to be elsewhere. People are yelling at him to do things, but he will always do something completely different. There is so little that matters to him that, as far as his character goes, the climax of the tension occurs in the first ten minutes, in which Captain Jack is denied his profiterole. Manacled to a chair, with it just out of his reach... The pinnacle of the film results down to Jack wanting a creamy treat, Jack being denied a creamy treat, Jack getting his creamy treat, and Jack eating his creamy treat. That’s the three-act structure done already, we can all go home now.

2 ½ / 5

Wall Street - Money Never Sleeps (2010)

Director: Oliver Stone
Writers: Bryan Burrough, Allan Loeb and Stephen Schiff

The original Wall Street came out in 1987 to much critical acclaim and popularity, and, ironically, a hefty box office taking. Its original characters inspired a generation to become stockbrokers, whilst warding the then current generation to rethink their plans for corporate espionage. Twenty-three years later, a sequel is produced.

A reformed Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) is released from prison after serving his sentence for playing the stock market. He attempts to reconcile with his daughter Winnie (the charming as ever Carrie Mulligan) by gaining the trust of her new fiancé, an aspiring young stockbroker Jake (Shia LaBeouf). In exchange, Gekko helps Jake seek revenge on the man responsible for his mentor’s death.

Like the first film, Wall Street – Money Never Sleep is jargon-heavy. Perhaps the film would be easier to understand if one had a greater knowledge of the American Financial System. As such, the fast-flowing terminology spewed about becomes increasingly difficult to comprehend. The significance and repercussions of the actions are therefore lessened, leaving only the basic impression of who is good and who is bad, and who has cut whose throat.

One wonders how much of the film is true. Although based on reality and the Global Financial Crisis, a lot of fiction is obviously interwoven throughout. How many of the people and companies are “real”? Does knowing the answer to that question lessen the impact of the events surrounding that person or company, due to a previous foresight?

Those who remember the original Wall Street would remember Gordon Gekko and his cunning, cutthroat deceptions, and devious plots. Portrayed expertly by Michael Douglas, his husky voice might seem innocent, but it somehow exudes ulterior motives. His love of greed is second to none, he only looks out for himself, and everyone else can burn before he does, which is why it’s strange seeing him so submissive, signing books and doing group speeches. Long gone are his cunning schemes, as he makes claims of having reformed in prison. Why is that? He is undoubtedly the only reason the audience would pay money to see the film, yet it spends more than half the time focussing on characters other than Gordon Gekko. Gekko comes into his element in the last turn of the film, and this twist is a joy to watch, but it comes too late. One wonders what his plans would have been about getting to the top if his daughter hadn’t fallen in love with another Wall Street player, presenting him such a unique opportunity.

Shia LaBeouf’s character Jake represents the next generation’s Gordon Gekko. A prodigy, he has climbed his way up through the ranks of a powerful company to a position of power, until it is all taken away from him after the death of his mentor, replaced with his greed for revenge. But how much does he learn? At the end of the film he might have received a happy ending, but his morals remain the same and he has not been awakened by any epiphanies. His actions at the end would have been almost exactly the same as his actions in the beginning. He’ll just start all over again, much like Gekko. Jake’s journey is satisfying, but when his screen time is compared to the much more capable anti-hero Gekko, it feels a wasted opportunity.

The film experiments with all kinds of editing tricks, attempting split screens, shots within shots, and some more obscure techniques which only leaves the question of what were they thinking? These brief sequences seem random and sloppy, and only occur intermittently throughout the film, failing to form any cohesive style. A much better example is in 128 Hours, where the editing style is irreplaceable, complementary to the mood. One especially bizarre shot in which Jake is referred to as being a “fighter”, results in a transparent apparition of his deceased mentor fading into the empty space adjacent. This incredibly unsubtle link encroaches on parody. Similarly, a poorly animated virtual city covered with screens connected to television feeds represents the flow of data and information, but more resembles the technophobic 90’s imaginings of the interior of a computer, familiarised in children’s television series such as Reboot.

The main problem with Wall Street – Money Never Sleeps is that it itself is hypocritically greedy. When presented with two different plots – a cutthroat financial scam and a family drama – the film chooses both, creating something not quite as good as either. When the next dog-eat-dog political scandal breaks, the family’s incessant bickering gets in the way, and when the reuniting of a tragic romance seems imminent, the quick-shooting technical jargon becomes a hindrance. The film is simply trying to cater for too many audiences, which it adequately achieves, but the pacing is broken. The titular Money might have insomnia, but you’ll certainly nod off a few times.

3 / 5

Burke and Hare (2010)

Director: John Landis
Writers: Piers Ashworth and Nick Moorcroft

When Simon Pegg gets together with John Landis, the legendary Director of classic films such as An American Werewolf in London and The Blues Brothers, surely this makes for a recipe which cannot fail, which is why Burke and Hare comes as such a shock. Where are the comedic set pieces? Where are the unexpected twists and turns? Where is the wit? Burke and Hare promises such things, but delivers merely stock slapstick and jokes about the emptying of the privy bucket. How did this happen? How could this happen? John Landis is a seasoned Director, and Simon Pegg an accomplished scriptwriter. As the audience’s initial smiles lessen, fading to looks of confusion, and eventually devolving into looks in directions other than the screen, procrastinating in order to endure this tedious ninety minutes, they wonder how it could all go so wrong.

19^th Century, Edinburgh: the centre of Science and Medical Research. Two rival surgeons Doctor Monro (Tim Curry) and Doctor Knox (Tom Wilkinson) compete for the King’s prize for the greatest advancement in medical science. Burke and Hare chronicles the notorious serial killings committed by its titular conmen, Simon Pegg and Andy Serkis, who trade fresh cadavers for coin. During their exploits, Burke is seduced by a young aspiring actress Ginny Hawkins (Isla Fisher), and deceived into financing her all-female production of the Scottish Play.

Burke and Hare has too much fat. There are too many unnecessary points, resulting in a convoluted story structure, with great chunks a chore to sit through. Bookended by a narrator who gives a summary of the entire film, followed by a long sequence of exposition, the main characters are introduced a third of the way through the film. This might lead one to believe the film is building to something complex, but alas, when the characters themselves come with no backstory, and are portrayed so cartoony, and scenes begin to drag on interminably before fizzling out minus a punchline, the truth is revealed. Particularly when the clichéd love interest subplot fails to satisfy, falling flat, and adding nothing to the greater story, it becomes even more laboured to withstand.

Simon Pegg is a naturally funny man, but not even he can save the film from mediocrity. The funeral parlour tries so hard to be quirky and macabre, and there are a few chuckles to be had here and there, but nothing particularly clever, or even memorable. The black comedy has already been done before, and better, and once that well has run dry, the script resorts to senseless slapstick and runaway barrels filled with corpses.

Multiple high-calibre actors grace the film with their presence, including Bill Bailey, Christopher Lee and Steven Merchant. However, apart from Ronnie Corbett’s mildly amusing pompous, bumbling Captain McLintoch, they are given so few interesting things to do that their talents are wasted and their appearances achieve little but provide a naming game to preoccupy the audience before they can leave.

The film could have been much more enjoyable in a more streamlined cut, skimming the useless subplots and condensing the actual story, although in that circumstance it would be severely lacking in the running time. Unfortunately what we are presented with here is a tortuous mishmash of underdeveloped and unoriginal plot points, strung together with some placeholders for comedy, much less than the sum of its parts. It’s finally been released in Australia, a year after its run in the States, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Maybe this corpse is best left buried. You won’t die laughing.

2 / 5

Source Code (2011)

Director: Duncan Jones

Writer: Ben Ripley

SF is a dying genre. As modern day Science Fiction films consist mostly of blowing things up, the hard stuff gets swept under the wave of mediocrity. Source Code does something quite clever. It is a SF film masquerading as an action thriller. It is a film that ties together the explosions with a string of high concept ideas and themes. The second feature film from David Bowie’s son, Duncan Jones, Source Code is the big budget, blockbuster big brother to the low budget independent masterpiece Moon.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Captain Colter Stevens, a military man serving in Afghanistan. This is why he finds it strange when he awakens on board a train heading towards Chicago, in mid-conversation with a woman he’s never met, Christina Warren (Michelle Monaghan). He rejects her familiar banter, leaving to seek answers. He finds it stranger that when he looks into the mirror, another man’s face looks back. At the crescendo of his panic, he stumbles out of the bathroom, only to be engulfed by the sudden fires of a massive explosion, emanating from an undisclosed source onboard the train, and spreading to another train passing in the opposite direction.

Colter Stevens wakes up with a start, this time strapped into a mysterious machine, and being asked a string of questions by a military woman Colleen Goodwin. Despite Colter’s objections, it is slowly revealed that he is an agent, inside a program devised from the recorded data of a brains last eight minutes, sent to uncover the identity of a terrorist whose bomb planted on the train killed everyone onboard, and is threatening to unleash more devastation upon the city. So Jake Gyllenhaal is subjected to reliving the last eight minutes before the explosion Groundhog Day style. Each time he learns more and more about the events and the people, even forming a connection with Christina after experiencing the tragedy of her recurring death. This repetition of sequences provides comfort for the audience. They can foresee the exact outcome each time, yet every viewing brings a new experience. The ratio between risk and reward is carefully balanced throughout.

Source Code is a film that works “just because”. Don’t think about the science behind it. The film doesn’t want you to. In fact, the film doesn’t give you a chance to. The undoubtedly genius Doctor Rutledge begins to explain, but is quickly cut off as the film races off again, faster than the train it is based on.

The film really does seem like the bigger, blockbuster version of 2009’s Moon, this time trading the science fiction setting of the titular location with a more accessible and identifiable location and incident. Both feature a likeable, multi-levelled protagonist, trapped within his circumstances – a self-contained prison. His rebellion against the exterior forces attempting to dominate him becomes futile, as there is seemingly no favourable solution in sight. Through his insurgence, he slowly discovers that everything is not as it seems, and his entire raison d’être is thrown into chaos. The lead characters manage to capture the humanity within the technological confines, ensnaring an emotional connection, carrying us on a journey that inevitably ends with the character in someplace completely different, changed to the very core.

The final twist however only manages to leave a bitter aftertaste. Throwing a few more spanners into the science generator, the finale pretends to defy logic and reason, but is taken a few steps too far. The film definitely would have benefited from a more direct and ambiguous ending.

Filled with enough edge-of-your-seat action to keep your blood pumping, yet retaining the much needed soul, the film manages to inject the SF genre with a fresh dose of life, sowing the seeds for future incarnations. With his second film under his belt, Source Code confirms Duncan Jones as an intelligent and talented Director.

4 / 5

Thor (2011)

Director: Kenneth Branagh

Writers: Ashley Edward Miller, Zack Stentz, Don Payne

The latest origin film in the lead-up to The Avengers, Marvel's Thor  pushes all the right buttons typical of the now well overdone superhero film. But that’s just it… It fails to transcend beyond the conventions inherent to deliver anything other than JUST ANOTHER HERO MOVIE. But as long as the God of Thunder is kicking butt and swinging his mighty hammer Mjolnir, it's delivering exactly what it promised.

Expertly cast Chris Hemsworth excels his initial typecast as "eye candy" to portray the titular character, the arrogant and impetuous God of Thunder, next in line to the throne of Asgard. After provoking an incident with their legendary enemies the Frost Giants, Thor is banished to earth by his father, Oden (played by an ominous Anthony Hopkins). There he meets the traditional love interest, Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) and her team of physicists. With his new friends and old, he must learn to be a more considerate Thunder God in order to return to Asgard and thwart his quick-tongued brother Loki's (Tom Hiddleston) envious plan to ignite war and bloodshed with the Frost Giants and claim the throne as his inheritance.

The best word to describe Thor is "solid". Good acting - check. Love interest - check. Jealous brother - check. Betrayal - check. Action - check. Comedy - check. Spectacle - check. Lesson - check. The art dept and costume design are unmatched, as are the visual effects. The main problem is that it doesn't dare to be anything different. There is no mystery, no ambiguity, no subtlety, as every plot point is spoon fed to the gluttonous audience.

What the hell is Natalie Portman doing after Black Swan? Did she think "I've won an Oscar, now I can play a character where I can turn up on the day, do some acting, get home in time for tea." Her character is replaceable by any other love interest, and the relationship between her and Thor refuses to be anything more than the usual "You're pretty, let's kiss." But why would Thor, the mighty God of Thunder, fall for such an underwhelming mortal woman. How many foes has she slain in glorious battle? How many enemies has she valiantly vanquished? Are her hips just right for baring his children? Is she busting out of her corset? So why her? The other characters similarly fall flat. Thor's four companions could easily be reduced to two - the busty babe and the comic relief - the Asian and the poncy rogue have so little to do with anything.

Cape continuity. In one shot, Thor is knocked onto his back. He tries to stand up, treading on his own cape. In the next shot - a wide - he rises to his feet, and the cape blows behind him. This cape continuity is noticeable in multiple sequences. It's not the end of the world, but it does tend to ruin the immersion when Thor's cape flaps around with a mind of its own.

The ending is also disappointing. It is the only time that it breaks free of genre constraints, refusing to allow Thor to use the power of Mjolnir, his hammer, to fly to triumph. The terribly clichéd post-credits teaser adds to the disappointment.

Originally shot in 2D, the rotoscoped translation to 3D fails to impress. The added darkness adds confusion to the extremely fast close-ups of the action scenes, leaving the audience unfulfilled. The added effects do not add anything more than novelty to the otherwise spectacular visual effects.

But the biggest disappointment with Thor is the terrible choice of song for the end credits. Choosing Foo Fighters over the perfectly appropriate Manowar - having written an entire album dedicated to the God of Thunder - is the biggest blasphemy.

The film provides a lot of spectacle and excitement. Thor smiting Frost Giants with his mighty hammer Mjolnir generates all the satisfaction one would expect. The jokes work, even if they work in a self-parodying way. The acting is solid, even if the characters aren't round enough. Thor delivers everything that is traditional of the current superhero movie, nothing less, but certainly nothing more. It is just one step closer to The Avengers and what could be the best or worst film ever. The anticipation is murderous.

3 / 5

Little White Lies (2010)

Les Petits Mouchoirs

France

Writer and Director: Guillaume Canet

Little White Lies’ opening shot is a single take featuring a man strung out on cocaine leaving a Parisian nightclub in the wee hours of the morning, mounting his scooter, the camera spinning around him as he rides it through block after block of traffic lights before being shattered against the windscreen of a large truck and tossed to the road like a ragdoll. This is the catalyst for the premature reunion of a group of old friends, equipping scrubs and facial masks to visit the bloodied and disfigured wreck of a well-loved man. The Doctors are optimistic that he’ll recover, absolving the group’s decision to depart on their coveted annual retreat to rich restaurateur autocrat Max’s Summer home. At the beach all the lies and past secrets come together, culminating in the tragic and comedic interplay between the large cast of characters. Lovers come and go, friendships are consolidated and people exorcise their demons in what amounts to a very predictable yet mildly enjoyable reunion piece.

Max is habitually the comic relief, lightening the mood and providing distraction amid the frequently failing interpersonal relationships. Prior to leaving for his beach home, his longtime married friend Vincent confesses his love for him in a crowded restaurant. The typically high-strung businessman reacts aggressively to Vincent’s insistence that he “loves his hands”. On vacation, Max finds it impossible to relax, with many sleepless nights and a hilarious boating accident which leaves him run aground and pantsless with Vincent overnight. This concludes with a stand-out scene in which Max brings an axe to the wall in order to flush out the family of weasels that have infiltrated his crawlspace.

Academy Award winner Marion Cotillard (of Inception fame) shows her worth as an artist who never wants to commit in a relationship. Although her character is a stereotype in a supporting role she impresses with her ability to cry, but when the film predictably results with her tearing up three times in quick succession, it feels like her talents have been exploited.

The final scene itself acts as a plot device to absolve all characters of blame for their misdeeds and bring them all back together in the wake of a tragedy to live happily ever after with each other, revealing the films unsubtle intentions as a tearjerker. The obnoxious soundtrack invades scenes to intensify the emotion, with English lyrics demanding us to feel what we’re supposed to be feeling, in case it wasn’t obvious enough.

At an inflated 154 minutes, Canet certainly needs to learn to trim the fat, as half the character arcs become underwhelming when compared to others. For the characters that do count though, the film is certainly worth watching, and the first half certainly outweighs the overblown second in terms of entertainment, as long as you’re not expecting anything ground-breaking.

3 / 5

The Killer Inside Me (2010)

Director: Michael Winterbottom

Writer: John Curran

The Killer Inside Me is the latest effort from Michael Winterbottom, a prolific British Director, renowned for adapting the un-adaptation and filming the “unfilmable”, transforming The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentlemen – a novel about a narrator who is so easily distracted that by the end he has not even come to his own birth – into a typically British comedy farce. This time, he turns the brutal and unrelenting 1952 Jim Thompson American pulp novel into a stylish noir thriller, with graphic depictions of sadomasochism.

Casey Affleck plays Deputy Sheriff Lou Ford. He lives in a small town, leading a quite unremarkable life. People think him slow and boring, but little do they know that under that facade exists a sociopath with a masochistic sexual orientation. At the appeal of the Sheriff, Lou pays a visit to Joyce Lakeland (Jessica Alba), a prostitute having an affair with businessman Chester Conway's son, in order to evict her from the county due to her bad influence. In retaliation for Lou's treatment of her, Joyce begins to slap him. This unleashes Lou's anger, and he throws her to the bed and begins to flog her with his belt, in the same way Lou's mother had been abused. The scene lingers uncomfortably on the prostitute's anguish as her initial struggles turn to pleasure, and the two make violent love: the beginning of a passionate affair. Winterbottom drives these shocking brutal sadomasochistic scenes to the extreme, portraying them exactly how they would be written in the pulp novel, but he never takes them over the edge, instead leaving the audience balancing on the verge of disgust.

When Lou refuses to leave town with her, the two hatch a plan to extort $10,000 out of Conway. Lou is instructed to oversee the payment, made by Conway's son, but Lou has other plans. Prior to the meeting, Lou brutally and unrelentingly beats Joyce to a bloody pulp, not even stopping when she ceases to move. When Conway's son arrives, Lou shoots him to death, planting the gun in Joyce's hand, in what resembles a murder-suicide. Under the suspicion of his girlfriend Amy (Kate Hudson) that Lou is cheating on her, previous victims attempting blackmail on him, and the District Attorney who believes Joyce couldn't be capable of her alleged actions, Lou is forced into more drastic and gruesome deeds in order for his depraved urges to remain hidden.

Casey Affleck plays the role of Lou Ford brilliantly and unnervingly. His constant high-pitched mumble and occasional blow-outs exudes innocence, giving hint towards a socially undeveloped child. His constant talk in platitudes and clichés add to his quiet, reserved insanity. The reason he does the things he does is hinted at in brief flashbacks of his sordid relationship with his mother, and this is reflected in his relationship with Joyce. He realises that what he is doing is wrong but does it anyway, not knowing why. In a fit of passion he disregards the dangers of sleeping unprotected with a prostitute in order to seize what he could not understand as a child. After discarding Joyce without hesitation, Lou transfers his love of her onto his girlfriend in order to retain normality so as to not attract suspicion. When Amy smells the scent of an undiagnosed STD, she threatens to leave but Lou clings to normality in order to avoid suspicion, convincing her to stay by any means necessary, including a proposal. It doesn't matter how low it is, Lou will do it in order to continue his shameful vices. He soon begins to repeat his treatments of the prostitute on Amy, who follows along as a victim who doesn't realise she's a victim, desperately in love. Lou just seems to attract women who enjoy pain.

The transformation of Jessica Alba from the object of all pubescent fantasies to a horribly disfigured victim is ironic, and the horrific special effects make-up make it impossible to look away.

The film is not without some fault. As it revolves around an undeveloped character who is not even aware of why he does the things he does, a lot of viewers will find difficulty in emoting with him, and will become uninterested in his seemingly random outbursts of violence. The film also suffers a disappointing climax as a result of sub-par visual effects which are simply too far out of its budget. Nevertheless, The Killer Inside Me delivers a sometimes intense journey, and Winterbottom has succeeded again in creating a film that dares to sidestep the well-defined Hollywood conventions. Who wants a happy ending anyway?

3½ / 5

Paul (2011)

Director: Greg Mottola
Writer: Simon Pegg & Nick Frost

From zombie rampages to machine-gun-toting cops, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are back with their long-awaited follow-up to Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Utterly crass and reading like a SF film homage checklist, Paul is definitely the brainchild of these two loveable geeks, but does it have enough substance to hold up on its own?

Pegg and Frost play Graeme Willy and “the writer Clive Gollings”, nerds living out every fanboy’s dream of a road trip across America, a nerd crusade to Comicon as well as half a dozen alleged UFO and extraterrestrial encounter sites. But things go awry as they always do and the duo find themselves face to face with Paul, the wise-cracking, potty-mouthed, pot-smoking, well-endowed little green man, a triumph of visual effects voiced by Seth Rogan. It’s a kind of magic when actors play themselves on screen. From here, the characters flee across the States, pursued by FBI agents, rednecks and a Christian fundamentalist with a shotgun.

The thing that most noticeably separates Paul from Pegg and Frost’s previous efforts is that the film seems instantly more accessible, more simplified, more Americanised. The bromance remains the same, but the actual flashes of genius are less frequent, the clever British humour swiftly reverting back to the default assurance that the word “cocksucker” will conjure laughs. It does in this case, but Pegg and Frost have proven that they are better than that on multiple occasions. Maybe it’s the absence of Edgar Wright, previous collaborator with the pair, having Directed and co-wrote both Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Paul lacks Wright’s frenetic montage style, instead being approached in a more straight-forward fashion.

On top of this the film is packed full of homages and references to classic Science Fiction films which threatens to alienate half the audience. These adulations are clever and often subtle, and done in a tasteful and respectful way to nerds and geeks everywhere, never lowering themselves to slighting their beloved culture. But does referencing a film that is better than your film increase the quality of your film? Especially if the film descends into in-jokes once its well of inspiration has dried up? It certainly doesn’t help when I’m saying the quotes and thinking of the references in unison with the actors. I’m surprised it took so long for the famous Aliens quote to reach fruition.

Paul conforms to a traditional three-act structure, with obligatory love interest, underdeveloped Big Bad, obvious Starman plot device, and a happily ever after ending, all seemingly thrown in without too much deliberation as an obligation to American audiences, to whom the film owes credit as its co-financer. The backing has half the cast of Arrested Development included, as if to ease Americans into associating with these crazy Brits.

Still, none of Paul’s flaws and concessions are really enough to dull the comedy. The film still retains enough substance of its own, and the standout moments are classic Pegg and Frost. The problem is that there just aren’t enough of them to make the film particularly memorable, falling short of the dizzying heights of the duo’s previous efforts. I know I laughed, but I just can’t remember what I laughed at.

3½ / 5