Sustainable Spidey: Spider-Man Earth Hour's Superhero Ambassador

With great power comes great responsibility...

WWF's Earth Hour and Sony Pictures Entertainment have teamed up to announced Spider-Man is the first ever superhero ambassador for Earth Hour. Not sure how that's going to work, but I hope Andrew Garfield has plenty of baby-powder (sustainably made, of course) as I reckon he'll be spending a bit of time in that skin-tight costume.

Garfield says he's proud Spider-Man is the first superhero ambassador for the cause, 'because he shows we can all be superheroes when we realise the power we all have'. More from Garfield and his co-stars Emma Stone and Jamie Foxx in the clip below.

Why does it make sense? Well, according to Director of the Amazing Spider-Man 2, Mark Webb, the film is the most sustainable ever produced by Columbia Pictures. It's also apparently entirely carbon-neutral.

The announcement was made as part of the launch of Earth Hour Blue, a crowdfunding and sourcing platform aimed at supporting projects focused on sustainable development and conservation. The idea is to encourage and fund grass roots approaches to environmental management.

Webb himself is supporting a project that will provide equipment for WWF rangers working in Indonesia to protect various endangered wildlife and their habitat.

     

Earth Hour was co-founded by Andy Ridley in Sydney in 2007. Since then the concept of switching off the lights has reached over 7,000 cities on 7 continents and hundreds of millions of people. I know I always see messaged from my friends in Finland reminding me to turn off my lights.

This year, Earth Hour takes place on 29 March at 8.30pm local time.

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12 Years a Slave: A Review

Before the screening for this film began, I ordered a large glass of wine from the bar. I wanted to numb myself. I had not watched any trailers for Steve McQueen’s latest film, or read Solomon Northup’s memoir of his experiences as an abducted slave. Regardless before having seen a single frame, I was already experiencing a strong sense of foreboding.

McQueen has proven himself to be a film-maker who both is fearless in his subject matter – the deprivation of the Northern Irish political detainees in Hunger is unforgettable – but also fully aware of how film can confront the audience. The topic of slavery within Hollywood has previously been treated as an unfortunate event in history – and so depicted in disaffected fashion as a curio; as a sadistic standby in exploitation cinema; or most famously, entirely justified as in the work of D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation.

McQueen is not interested in such segues or historical sleight-of-hand. 12 Years a Slave opens with Chiwetel Ejiofor standing among a group of slaves, men and young boys, staring at the camera dejectedly. It is a confronting opening shot, but it also immediately places the audience in that moment. The ambient sound of the cornfield, the buzzing of insects and this silent group, waiting to be told what to do, completely bereft of agency, all combine together to deliberate effect.

The story skips back in time, introducing Ejiofor’s Solomon as a family man making a comfortable living as an entertainer. He dresses in the clothing of the New York middle class and draws the envious gazes of born slaves, who are baffled by his freedom and equality with his white peers. Solomon is approached by two men who offer him a short profitable job in Washington. During his travels with them, he is drugged and wakes to find himself pressed into a slaver’s ship bound human cargo. There he is stripped of his clothes and name – he learns quickly that any protest about his true identity can lead to his death.

The sudden reversal of Solomon’s fate is a sharp shock, again designed to force a sense of empathy on a modern audience. In addition the shrill violins of Hans Zimmer’s score – acting as a chorus, given Solomon’s own gifts as a violinist – evoke the desperation and pain of these victims of callous slavers.

Sold initially to the morally troubled, but weak-willed William Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) Solomon tries to makes himself useful, in the hope that his evident skill at carpentry will allow him to convince his owner that he is more valuable as a free man. His plan fails disastrously and he is passed on to Edwin Epps, played by frequent McQueen collaborator Michael Fassbender. Trapped by an unpredictable, brutal sadist, his dreams of escape are slowly ground into dust.

What impresses most is how the torture and abuse of the slaves is not depicted in a sensationalistic fashion, its everydayness making it doubly disturbing to watch unfold. Epps orders slaves who fail to meet a daily quota for cotton picking be whipped, of which there are glimpses in long shots. McQueen also avoids the trope of 12 Years… being a story of redemption for his male protagonist. Solomon instead is forced to witness the suffering of women in particular, an aspect of American slavery that has been sidelined in previous films set during this period.

Cumberbatch’s performance shows what he is capable of when given the chance to escape from Tumblr. Fassbender is simply terrifying, a ball of rage liable to explode at any moment. One tension-filled scene between Epps and Solomon in the dead of night is an acting masterclass.

However, it is the women on screen that impress the most. The magnetic Lupita Nyong'o gives Fassbender a run for his money during their moments together and the grief of Adepero Oduye’s Eliza at the loss of her children is heartrending. Sarah Paulson plays the wife of Epps and essays another rarity in the film subgenre of slavery pictures, a white woman devoid of any sympathy towards the slaves on her property, actively abusing Patsey (Lupita Nyong’o). Ultimately the plot movements of this film are set in motion by the actions of the women, not the men, with Solomon an especially passive observer.

McQueen has delivered an inspired piece of film that refuses to settle into received ideas of how slavery should be depicted. This is a thoroughly modern and innovative picture, emotionally devastating, but invigorating thanks to directorial technique and the commitment of its cast.

12 Years a Slave is in cinemas from tomorrow - 30 January.

-Emmet O'Cuana

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Spike Jonze's Her Reviewed

“It’s good to be around someone that’s excited about the world. I forgot that existed.”

Spike Jonze has seen the future and it is very convenient. Her depicts a near-future L.A. that appears to have been annexed by Apple. The digital citizens of this pastel utopia conduct most of their daily activity through virtual space, appear to want for nothing and work at professions that balance creativity with profit, and wear very high pants. The film takes place in an almost insufferably middle-class setting, absent any hint of conflict or deprivation.

Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is introduced reading aloud what appears to be a touching love letter. Then comes the reveal that Theodore writes correspondence for a living, occasionally managing both sides of an intimate conversation between the loved ones who employ him. His computer translates his spoken words into beautiful long-hand writing on a printed page, which is then forwarded on to the addressee. The simple act of letter-writing has become fetishised and transformed into a business transaction.

Lonely following the breakdown of his own marriage, the instinctively empathetic Theodore installs a new form of household Operating System that emotionally anticipates the needs of the user and develops an independent artificial intelligence. It is in this fashion he first ‘meets’ Samantha (Scarlett Johansson), whose infectious enthusiasm for life and can-do attitude helps lift Theodore’s funk. Quickly progressing from organising his work life to encouraging the shy writer to go on blind dates, a genuine friendship soon develops between the two.

Having put in the work establishing just how abstract human relationships have become – there’s an awfully funny anonymous cybersex scene featuring Kristin Wiig – Theodore and Samantha falling for one another feels completely natural. Somehow in grafting his story on to a science fiction setting, Jonze has managed to produce a startlingly insightful conversation about how we communicate with one another, both generally and within relationships.

Theodore and Samantha may seem like an unlikely couple and at first there’s a suspicion that she is merely behaving affectionately towards him due to her programming. However, the film explores just how dynamic this form of artificial intelligence is. Samantha is not only developing as a piece of software, but discovering her own personhood. Part of the charm of the film is showing how the couple get to know each other more and become genuinely intimate – with all the attendant joys and fears that treasured intimacy brings. Samantha’s arc is that she continues to grow not only into the relationship, but as an individual with wants and needs. Theodore, in his own right, is pulled back into the world, having become insulated by his retreat into technology.

His growing acceptance of Samantha as an individual with her own personality, desires and dreams resembles many relationships. The initial attraction based on a pre-existing preference of what a person is looking for in a partner and then the growing intimacy that comes with truly getting to know someone. 

Another sign of how smart a piece of writing this is can be found in the surrounding characters. Chris Pratt - soon to be appearing on the big screen as Marvel’s next superhero Starlord in Guardians of the Galaxy - features as an easy-going and emotionally secure colleague of Theodore’s. Pratt’s performance as Paul is not only wryly humourous, but sweet-natured and accepting of difference. Olivia Wilde’s ‘Blind Date’, however, is far more fragile, terrified of disappointment in her relationships. Amy Adams plays an old friend of Theodore’s who calmly accepts the highs and lows of life with philosophical grace. Courtesy of both the quality of acting, and the natural dialogue, these characters do not feel like stodgy archetypes. There’s a rich degree of observational insight at work here. 

This is also a film that simply looks fantastic. Hoyte Van Hoytema’s cinematography is a wonder, transforming the locations of Shanghai and docklands LA into pristine and richly coloured vistas. Like Michael Winterbottom’s Code 46, or Godard’s Alphaville, this is a stunning example of practical futurism. Very little special effects or green-screen work is in evidence here, besides Theodore’s very funny playtime sessions with a foul-mouthed video-game avatar.

Throw in a soundtrack by Arcade Fire and you have yourself a remarkable multimedia experience.

Her is a film that thrives not only on its performances, courtesy of the intimacy of Phoenix and Johansson’s conversations, but the subtle play of ideas in Jonze’s script. Quite simply one of the most compelling recent films released.

Her is in cinemas from tomorrow - 16 January.

-Emmet O'Cuana

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Philomena: A Review

Stephen Frears’ latest film takes inspiration from Martin Sixsmith’s novel The Lost Child of Philomena Lee, becoming a subtle meditation on the nature of forgiveness while not shying away from the despicable behaviour of the Irish Catholic Church (link contains information that may be considered spoilers).

Philomena is played by Judi Dench, who nails the West of Ireland accent. Still grieving for an absent son sold for adoption by the nuns in charge of a Magdalene laundry where she was indentured as a teenager, she finally confesses to her daughter Jane (Anna Maxwell Martin) the existence of this secret sibling Anthony. Steve Coogan’s Martin Sixsmith meanwhile is still reeling from the ignominious end of his career within the Blair administration. A chance encounter with Jane leads her to try to convince him to tell her mother’s story, which he cynically dismisses as cheap human interest misery-journalism fit for tabloids. 

The barely repressed venom in Coogan’s delivery of this line is a neat indication of the script’s intent, which the actor also had a hand in writing. Eschewing the tropes of misery lit and impotent rage at the tragic events surrounding the laundries, Philomena instead not only depicts this injustice but tempers anger with clear-headedness. Martin eventually does agree to meet his subject having successfully pitched the article to an editor, wonderfully played by Game of Thrones’ Michelle Fairley ('who are the bad guys?'), and finds himself won over by the self-effacing plight of this elderly woman.

What follows is a road movie of sorts, with Philomena and Martin travelling across to the States and back again, hunting down the trail of Anthony fifty years cold. Frears balances flashbacks to the years working at the Roscrea convent, the hardship endured by the young mothers in the laundries and the loving warmth of their brief time spent with their children. Sophie Kennedy Clark, who has gone from playing a British royal in Black Mirror to a naive Irish woman, stands in as a younger Philomena. Her distress at the loss of Anthony is raw and powerful. Dench sells just how enduring this emotion lingers decades later.

A mixture of tragedy and gentle humour eases the audience through the story, with Dench and Coogan introducing a light screwball tone to some of their scenes. There is a recurring joke that Martin is attempting to write a historical work about Russia, whereas Philomena prefers to read dull romance novels and insists on describing the plots to him.

In contrast, their scenes confronting the 'bad guys' are subtly powerful. Martin is puffed up with righteous anger at the aged Sister Hildegarde who presided over the convent during the 1950s. Philomena, however, remains strong in her religious convictions. She merely wants to know the whereabouts of Anthony so that she can make peace with what happened. The comparison between her enduring religious conviction, being someone directly wronged by the Church, versus the stout atheism of the successful and comfortably middle-class Martin, is repeatedly alluded to.

Ironically Barbara Jefford who appears as the principal antagonist Hildegarde, ranting and raving about fornication, is also known for her portrayal of the sexually sated Molly Bloom in Joseph Strick’s Ulysses (1967).

While the film is pointed in its indictment of how these women and their children were treated, it is not by any means an attack on the Catholic faith itself. Instead it questions the conduct of institutions given full control over the lives of ordinary Irish people and brings them to account. Philomena is an understatedly powerful film.

Philomena is currently in cinemas.

-Emmet O'Cuana

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American Hustle: A Review

David O. Russell’s American Hustle sees him reunite with the casts of Silver Linings Playbook and The Fighter in what is the latest in his series of films focusing on character instead of plot, lending his actors plenty of emotional space to revel in.

Some critics have taken to pigeon-holing American Hustle as an also-ran to Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas. Thing is, these are two very different films that simply share a period setting as well as a focus on small-time criminals and the cops trying to entrap them.

Whereas Scorsese’s Catholic sensibilities draw him to mine cinematic gold out of America’s rotten heart – perhaps most unforgivably in that ridiculous last shot from The Departed – Russell is instead interested in the fragility of people.

Christian Bale appears on the screen in the opening moments determinedly gluing his comb over to his balding scalp, with a spare tire wrapped around his waist that would make you believe he never did a Bat-push-up. His Irving Rosenfeld runs dry-cleaners and small businesses around New Jersey, but also a neat sideline in conning desperate men who cannot get a loan. His partner in crime is his mistress Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) who affects a fake British persona of Lady Edith to convince investors to hand over their last $5,000 as a ‘fee’.

Unfortunately their latest mark proves to be a Federal Agent. Bradley Cooper’s Richie DiMaso is driven and eager to make his name in the Bureau. He is naively convinced that his black and white perception of the world is true – the memory of Watergate haunts these characters – whereas Irving sees the world as a sequence of greys. Richie pressures Irving and Lady Edith, whom he begins to carry a serious torch for, to entrap the mayor of New Jersey Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner, terrific is the charismatic community politician).

The stage is set for a love triangle between Irving, Sydney and Richie, as well as a dizzying series of grifts, with it is often unclear whether these characters genuinely feel the emotions they are expressing or are relying on some serious method acting.

Russell highlights this fascinating idea of con men and actors having improvisational skills in common and gives Bale and Adams several generous scenes to show off their talent. The first appearance of Lady Edith is a fantastic case-study of a great actor playing someone who is a bad actor. The setting also allows for not only anachronistic period detail, but the delightfully cheesy poor sense of class that these characters have. Richie’s furious demands for increasingly expensive hotel suites to impress his long line of marks as part of his operation are particularly telling.

Much of the film's promotional campaign has centered around Jennifer Lawrence. Her neurotic Rosalyn is a harpy with peroxide hair already trapped in the role of a suburban wife while still a young woman. She also happens to be the loose cannon at the heart of this scam who risks blowing the whole deal wide open.

Russell’s grand theme here is whether graft and corruption can actually serve the greater good. As Irving tries to explain to Richie, Watergate has not opened the floodgates on moral righteousness. American Hustle in that respect has a far more interesting perspective on working class crime than Goodfellas. It is also an acting masterclass, which takes the time to allow the performers to take ownership of their scenes.

American Hustle is currently in cinemas through Roadshow.

-Emmet O'Cuana

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Peter Jackson's The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug Reviewed

When I first heard that Peter Jackson would be making The Hobbit into a prequel film his Lord of the Rings series, I was excited. When I heard there was enough material to fill two films, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. When I heard it was going to be a trilogy, I became a little sceptical.

I'll admit I've not read the book since high school, and in the context of having read The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Silmarillion, it's a bit of a blur as to what was The Hobbit and was was added from the overarching lore. However, if my shoddy memory serves, the basic premise is that a homebody gets talked into going on a treasure-hunting adventure with a bunch of fun-loving Dwarves, serving to illustrate that the smarts of an unlikely hero can win the day.

Thus far the movies have made Bilbo (Martin Freeman) a bit player in the larger story, which is now more about a disenfranchised people questing to reclaim their homeland from a dragon, and redeem themselves from a fall-from-grace.

While this second Hobbit film is, in some respects, better than the first, I found it to be riddled with pointless scenes. For much of the film I truly wondered where this garden path was leading me, desperately seeking some sort of arc in the story. With no beginning and a cliff-hanger ending I find the pursuit of a grand finale, some 12 months away, a flimsy excuse for stringing together a bunch of disconnected scenes of our heroes’ quest to the Lonely Mountain.

In The Desolation of Smaug we continue to explore Middle-Earth with our heroes who are still being pursued by the pack of Orcs that found them at the end of An Unexpected Journey. They encounter Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt) - a were-bear and giant spiders, and are captured by the Elves of Mirkwood Forest, only to escape and be smuggled into Lake-town by Bard (Luke Evans).

Familiar LOTR tropes are rehashed but not built on or treated in any unique way: Elves still hate Dwarves; if you're cut by a Morgul blade, you need Kingsfoil (a weed) and Elven magic to heal the wound. Yep, we know.

Unfortunately, neither are the characters progressed much here, rather passing relatively unaffected from ordeal to ordeal. Instead, most seem to serve a function: Balin (Ken Scott) is the wise advice-giver and problem-solver, Thorin (Richard Armitage) plays brooding hero, Kili (Aidin Turner) provides some comic-relief, and poor Bilbo has been demoted from titular protagonist to ‘that guy who'll always get them out of trouble’.

Despite this, it does all seem worth it when our band of heroes finally reaches the Lonely Mountain and encounter Smaug the Dragon (voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch).

By this stage in the film I had a serious need to pee. But from the moment Bilbo entered the cave of riches and awoke the slumbering, smooth-talking dragon, every scene featuring this amazingly realised character was worth crossing my legs for.

It is here that the film really begins to shine. Perhaps the dialogue is lifted wholesale from Tolkien’s original, or maybe it’s because Bilbo is finally given a chance to talk rather than bumble along, but something changes and the film is all the better for it.

The Hobbit by Paul Caggegi (http://processdiary.com/)

Unsurprisingly, The Desolation of Smaug ends on a cliff-hanger which will leave you wandering exactly how they are going to fill another 2 to 3 hours with what seems to be a pretty succinct set up of an epic battle. But given much of these prequels have been consciously made to tie in directly to the LOTR films I'm pretty sure Jackson figured it all out years ago.

All in all, I am glad I saw it, even if I did risk a bladder infection. As with each of Jackson’s interpretations there are plenty of beautiful moments, both visually and emotionally. And despite some pithy dialogue we get to escape to Middle-Earth for yet another few hours. It is spectacular but certainly feels drawn out, maybe we didn’t need that second breakfast after all.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug is in cinemas from Boxing Day.

-Paul Caggegi

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5 Flicks for Christmas

Dig your couch groove - it’s the holidays!

For some distressing reason - apparently the ten year anniversary, but I suspect a plot to drive me to the brink of madness - Richard Curtis’ inexplicably popular Love, Actually is bounding across social networks as the most popular Christmas movie this season. Clearly It’s A Wonderful Life’s reign as the must-watch holiday movie has well and truly ended (does anyone even watch Capra anymore…?)

Well at least people are not queuing up to watch Santa Claus The Movie, so give thanks for small mercies. I only recently learned Australia never had a cinema release of this product-placement stuffed ‘holiday classic’ - truly this is the Lucky Country.

At any rate, here are five films that happen to be both seasonal and not so cloying you’ll want to drown in the egg-nog.

Bad Santa [Terry Zwigoff (2003)]

The more acceptable 'Christmas' offering with Billy Bob Thornton that doesn’t happen to feature some lazy attempt at global politics commentary - and instead serves up an alcoholic con-man who poses as a department store Santa Claus while getting his end away with as many shopping complex customers as he can, before ripping off the holiday takings.

Not exactly suitable for watching with the kids, so.

Despite the foul-mouthed shenanigans of Thornton’s visibly pissed Claus - clearly the man is a method actor - there is actually a sweetness buried deep, deep, within this film. Willie Stokes is a great part for Thornton to show off his ornery charm, becoming a reluctant father-figure to an abused young boy (not that it stops him taking advantage). Able support is given from an ensemble that includes Parenthood’s Lauren Graham and Bernie Mac as a corrupt security guard.  Sadly Bad Santa is also John Ritter’s swansong on the big screen. Terry Zwigoff’s film inspires many a guilty gut-laugh, but is no guilty pleasure. Great fun.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang [Shane Black (2005)]

The words 'Kiss Kiss Bang Bang', which I saw on an Italian movie poster, are perhaps the briefest statement imaginable of the basic appeal of movies. This appeal is what attracts us, and ultimately what makes us despair when we begin to understand how seldom movies are more than this. - Pauline Kael.

In the movies of Shane Black it is always Christmas. This self-aware comedic thriller manages to drop sly references to Sunset Boulevard and poke fun at the conceited Hollywood community at large, all the while gunning along on great dialogue banter between stars Robert Downey Jr, Val Kilmer and Michelle Monaghan.

Throw in a pointed dig at Peter Jackson’s bloated Lord of the Rings trilogy and you’re set.

From the gorgeous Saul Bass inspired opening titles, to the riffing on film noir tropes, Black has produced a tightly  packed love/hate-letter to the movies full of magic, missing digits and wordplay loving henchmen. Tarantino wishes he could be this disciplined.

Scrooged [Richard Donner (1988)]

Bill Murray survived the debauchery of the Saturday Night Live years, became the comedy star of the 1980’s and had enough taste to not piss away his talent multiple cash-in pics (paging Chevy Chase…). Scrooged is a satirical look at the greed is good mentality of the 1980’s and commercialism posing as holiday good cheer that had reached its apex by then, with Murray playing the gleefully Gordon Gekko-esque ‘Scrooge’ who is visited by three ghosts in a modern update of the Dickens fable.

Richard Donner was inspired by the sad fate of Margot Kidder following her Superman success, hence the homelessness subplot of the story. The film walks a thin line between sentiment and mockery – the Richard Pryor joke still leaves a bad taste in the mouth – but when it gets it right, Scrooged nails it, descending into pantomime by the end.

Trading Places [John Landis (1983)]

Eddie Murphy and Dan Ackroyd work beautifully together in this film. It’s a sign of John Landis’ sense of comic timing that their characters, Valentine and Winthorpe, only meet in the third act of the film. Their two lives turned upside down by a bet between the Duke brothers (Golden Age matinee idols Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy) to decide whether it is nature or nurture that is the deciding factor in a person’s life.

The Christmas backdrop of the film serves to emphasise the casual excess of the Duke’s lives, contrasted sharply with the poverty of life on New York’s streets. Winthrope's incredulous reaction to being framed and stripped of his privilege is a thing to behold - as a comedian Ackroyd had already perfected that marvelous machine-gun delivery - whereas Valentine’s sudden transport into the upper echelons of the wealthy leaves him at first paranoid that this is a con, only for a sense of entitlement to quickly develop. Trading Places remains razor-sharp and very, very funny.

Die Hard [John McTiernan (1988)]

Think of it as the worst Christmas party ever. Terrorists take prisoner the revelers at the Takanomi Plaza, with Alan Rickman’s Hans a sharp-suited, silver-tongued villain, playing a long-game that accounts for every possible response of law enforcement. What he did not plan for is the presence of New York cop John McClane.

Now I have a machine gun. Ho, ho ho.

Bruce Willis has never been better as the anarchic McClane, an all-too-human unstoppable force, who begins picking off the terrorists guerrilla style. Sadly the sequels have long since spoiled the appeal of the original, with McClane becoming a callous Terminator who can leap on fighter jets and destroy Moscow at a whim. However, here he is a frightened and desperate man fighting to save his estranged wife and outwit the deadly Hans.

Still thrilling, still the pitch-perfect action film - it is easy to forget that at the time, Willis was cast against type in this role.

- Emmet O'Cuana

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5 Frightful Tales for Friday the 13th

When I was first asked to do a list of films to mark Friday the 13th….well I’ll be honest, I may have sobbed a bit. Quietly. Just out of sight.

There are twelve films in the Friday the 13th series, including the one where Jason went into space, the one with Freddy Krueger and the remake. That is a lot of time I am not going to get back.

Thankfully I was assured I could pick *any* five films I wanted, as long as they're horror pictures.

You can imagine the relief. So here we go – five different horror films, for five different moods, and five different frights.

For the Gorehounds: Night of the Living Dead [George A Romero (1968)]

The original and still arguably the best zombie film, Romero starts proceedings with typical B-movie tropes. The opening feels amateurish, overlong, another cheaply made independent picture. Then as the shock of a sudden zombie attack changes the tone, Romero injects the proceedings with an increasing sense of tension. Gruesome imagery lead to an unforgettable climax. A deathless horror classic.

For the Film Snobs: Peeping Tom [Michael Powell (1960)]

Not only was this picture about a murderous psychopath who films his victims at the moment of their deaths – with the audience made implicit by sharing his visual point of view – banned, it ended the career of film-maker Michael Powell. Carl Boehm plays the cherubic Mark, whose mind has been distorted by the invasive psychiatric theories of his father. His crimes are in fact a twisted continuation of the father’s work. Peeping Tom is innovative, chilling – and even features a dance number performed by Moira Shearer, the star of Powell and Pressburger’s The Red Shoes. Unmissable.

For the Conspiracy Fans: The Shining [Stanley Kubrick (1980)]

Stephen King disowned this cinematic adaptation of his haunted house story – then later (in 1997) directed his own television miniseries starring Rebecca De Mornay. Kubrick’s earlier film is a tour de force of audio and visual depth, a layered masterpiece of technique. It’s a nightmarish echo chamber that draws in the audience and allows their imagination to drag them deeper. Recent documentary Room 237 for one demonstrates just how much fascination the film still holds.

For the Romantics: Braindead (Dead Alive) [Peter Jackson (1992)]

While Shaun of the Dead popularized the ‘rom-zom-com’ term, Peter Jackson had already ploughed that gunky furrow with this gruesome comedy. Timothy Balme and Diana Peñalver play our star-crossed lovers Lionel and Paquita (“zoo….what is zoo?”). Standing between them is Lionel’s terrifying mother (Elizabeth Moody, unforgettable), who is then zombified by a weird rat-creature.

Cue kickboxing priests, undead sex and a very Freudian final confrontation between Lionel and Mother. Also, a lawn-mower figures prominently in the proceedings. Finally, a romantic comedy that trades suggestive glances for gushes of bodily fluids of all kinds flying at the screen. One more time everyone – I kick arse for the Lord!

For the Chills: Ringu (Ring) [Hideo Nakata (1998)]

Hideo Nakata’s film is Kubrickian in its use of sounds and repetitive images. That it takes the theme of Koji Suzuki’s novel – which updates traditional Japanese ghost stories to modern times – and then uses film to illustrate how this takes place shows not only an understanding of storytelling, but a fantastic technical imagination as well.

Ringu terrifies because it stays in the memory. Its scares are based around the idea of a virus that passes from host to host – just as viewers of this film are then compelled to share it with others, in case maybe there is something….other happening here. 

-Emmet O'Cuana

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Thor: The Dark World Reviewed

I’m really not sure why Thor: The Dark World is getting such mixed reviews. What is it people go to Marvel movies for? A hero? A villain? A love interest? A world at risk? A generic-y storyline bolstered by explosions, fight scenes, superheroes and space aliens? Oh for the love of clichés! If you answered yes to any or all of these, then you really have no excuse for being anything other than delighted with this latest instalment in the Avengers compendium.

I’m mildly bothered by the fact that there seems to be this growing impression that we can’t just go to a film for the sake of enjoyment. For enjoyment purposes, only, nothing deeper or more meaningful. Why does it matter that the first half of the film is exposition aimed at a more superficial audience that needs everything explained to them? Why does it matter that this is a pure marketing ploy to pull in a broader audience? Why does it matter that you haven’t yet realised that as a comic book fan this film is not actually for you, specifically, but for the masses?

As far as plots go, this one is pretty much the off-the-shelf variety. Once upon a time there was a war between the Asgardians and the Dark Elves, the latter of which were all but wiped out except for the most important ones who escaped and have remained in a state of suspended animation. Loki (Tom Hiddleston) is in prison, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is sad after having neglected his love life to clean up after his brother, and Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) has moved to London. As the nine realms move towards alignment, Jane somehow manages to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and is infected by the Dark Elves’ weapon of choice, the Aether. Cue the awakening of head Dark Elf Malekith (Christopher Eccleston) who now wants to bring the nine realms into darkness; the motivation of Thor who wants to save Jane (oh, and the nine realms too, if you wouldn’t mind); and the bringing together of two brothers torn apart by the selfish actions of one.

I’ve read that some are calling it The Lord of the Rings in space, but for me it felt more akin to Doctor Who, with the treatment of dashing between worlds like the Doctor’s movement through wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey. Also Malkith’s band of not-very-merry elves would not have been entirely out of place beside the Silence, Ood or Cybermen.

In any case, by now you’ve probably guessed that Thor: The Dark World is not a perfect example of cinematic excellence. It is a little disjointed in parts, and it does feel like two films pasted together somewhere in the middle. The tone of the first half differs from the latter, as it hastily tries to deliver the necessary exposition (which, actually may not be so necessary), while the second half seems to take itself far less seriously and almost becomes a romp. That said, I still left the cinema feeling as though my tight-arse-Tuesday $12 ticket was worth it.

It seems all the reviewers are talking about Tom Hiddleston’s Loki, and really why wouldn’t you? He does appear to be having great fun playing Loki, with the character in the latter half of the movie actually beginning to live up to his mischief-ness through a series of well-timed quips and the provoking of his overly serious half-brother. Chris Hemsworth does what he can with Thor, who is a slightly more rounded character in this second film. In the first, I found him severely lacking and one dimensional, but here there’s a little more to Thor, with my favourite scene the one apparently recommended by Joss Whedon – topless Thor! It’s not the topless-ness I loved rather how Hemsworth’s overly buff chest and arms are paired with what I have come to call ‘Thor-thinking-face’. It’s only a few seconds, but its inclusion is worth it even though it is entirely gratuitous.

If I’m honest, Natalie Portman’s Jane Foster is the biggest disappointment. In fact, I’m beginning to question Portman’s talent altogether as her portrayal of Jane in both films leaves a lot to be desired. She spends most of the film either actually unconscious or acting that way. While others have criticised it, I actually enjoyed the interludes of camp from Kat Dennings’ Darcy Lewis, but I did think Idris Elba as Heimdall was a little underutilised – I get the feeling there should have been slightly more of him, but it may have been left on the cutting room floor. Christopher Eccleston’s Malekith is foreboding and driven. It is clear that he has waited a long time to do this one thing and that is his focus, which Eccleston executes nicely from beneath piles of prosthetics and makeup.

One issue I did have with Thor is entirely a side issue and not something I blame this film, specifically, for. I feel that the portrayal of intellect and science is increasingly sidelined in film and many other forms of popular culture. Thor, here, is a symptom. Jane Foster is presented as being muddle headed and under-confident, yet it is her idea that saves the world, Thor just happens to assist in the facilitation. Similarly, Stellan Skarsgard’s Erik Selvig is outright mad, but again, it is his scientific knowledge that contributes significantly to the survival of not only the populations of earth, but of all the nine realms. This fact is all but sidelined, especially as it goes unrecognised and unrewarded.

Overall, expect little and have yourself a good time with Thor: The Dark World - in cinemas now.

-Stevie O'C

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Thor('s Day): The Dark World

Today is Thor's day. It also happens to be release day for Marvel's Thor: The Dark World. See what they did there?

Earlier this week I watched David and Margaret pan this, the latest in the Marvel franchise and the sequel to 2011's Thor (but which takes place after the events of The Avengers). They said it's same ol' same ol'. They said there's nothing new to see here. They said it's superficial, bang, crash and pretty-boy heroes.

To be honest none of this comes as a surprise to me. In fact my thoughts as I watched these armchair critics from the comfort of my own armchair were firstly, what did you really expect? And with that in mind, do you really care that it's likely to be superficial, generic story telling and fantastical escapism? Like, really care?

I haven't seen Thor II but the likelihood of me doing so is pretty high. As you may have gathered by now, I have a completely at arm's length happily married lady crush on Tom Hiddleston, who plays the mischievous adopted god, Loki. I also reckon if Chris Hemsworth knocked on my door trying to flog me Foxtel I'd obligingly invite him in, brew him a cup of tea and hand over my credit card details.

Without having seen the film I'd say Margaret and David would be close to spot on with their assessments. So too am I confident that this is exactly what Marvel is pitching at. Given the amount of whinging from fanboys that accompanied the release of Iron Man III for its deviating from the dogma I can well believe they've gone back to formula - world at risk, motivated hero, love story, hero challenged, world saved - for this stop gap between the last and the next Avengers films.

I personally really enjoyed Iron Man III. I thought it was, while imperfect, relatively intelligent and poignant for a superhero movie. For me it was an interesting commentary on heroism, politicking and media, with the added bonus of Robert Downey Jr. But I can't expect all Marvel films to do this. I, in actual fact, am probably not the Marvel target market. I'd argue neither are David and Margaret.

The Marvel films are a product. First and foremost. The Marvel films are not produced for art. They are a commercial enterprise, which, in many respects, is what cinema has become.

Director Alan Taylor has himself spoken out about the treatment his film was given by the studio. According to Taylor, re-shooting, rewriting and the inclusion of new scenes even after production has ended is 'the Marvel way'. In a brief interview with Collider, Taylor admits to the inclusion of additional scenes featuring Loki, which one can only imagine have been added on the back of the audience and fan reception to Hiddleston's portrayal of the character and growth in his personal capital following the success of The Avengers.

In another interview with the Huffington Post, Taylor is oddly overt about the structure of the final film, of which the first 45 minutes is exposition. According to Taylor this all came about in post, or as he put it, was 'discovered along the way'. His preference, it appears, was for earlier versions of the film, which placed more 'trust the audience'. But the 'decision was made', leaving one to wonder who is really in control.

Well, in actuality I was never really in doubt. It's made all the more obvious with the inclusion of a snippet in the middle of the credits, which is apparently a blatant marketing ploy for the soon to be released flick Guardians of the Galaxy from yet another Marvel movie universe. Directed by James Gunn (who has also directed Guardians), Taylor notes that it's a shift in tone and probably not what he would have done with the scene. Interesting. But as Taylor notes, it's Marvel's way to make things 'better'.

In any case, Marvel can pretty well count on my money at the box office on this one. I don't always want smarts from my superheroes. Sometimes I just want muscly blokes with superhuman abilities making things go boom. It's about escapism, fantasy and zoning out for a couple of hours. I'd be silly to expect more.

Thor: The Dark World is in cinemas from 31 October.

-Stevie O'C

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The Superficial: The Bling Ring Reviewed

One of my favourite guilty pleasures is to sit down with a big block of chocolate and a juicy gossip magazine. It is fun to peek into the world of the rich and famous, to catch up on who is dating who, the latest teen singing sensation in a fast lane to rehab (cough, Miley Cyrus, cough). I particularly enjoy admiring their designer outfits and how they manage to look so perfect all the time. However, for the four Los Angeles teenagers in Sofia Coppola’s latest film The Bling Ring, the life of celebrity and high-end luxury is more than a passing interest – it is an obsession.

When Marc (Israel Brussard) begins at a new high school, he is shunned by everybody except the pretty and confident Rebecca (Katie Chang).  Marc is pleased when they discover a mutual interest in fashion, and Rebecca is excited to find that Marc’s father is ‘in the biz’ as a film distributor. What begins as a typical teenage friendship made up of parties, trips to the beach and smoking weed, quickly becomes something more serious when they embark on a series of burglaries, accompanied by ditzy Nicki (Emma Watson), her adopted sister Sam (Taissa Famiga) and fellow party girl Chloe (Claire Julien).  They don’t just rob any old homes, though.

The Bling Ring is based on the real life events described in the Vanity Fair article, ‘The Suspects Wore Louboutins’. The article details the crime spree that saw the teens steal US$3 million worth of jewellery and designer clothing from the mansions of celebrities they admired, including Paris Hilton, Orlando Bloom and Lindsay Lohan during 2008 and 2009.  The ‘Bling Ring’, as they became known, used the internet to research the addresses of their favourite celebrities and targeted them on nights they’d be away filming or attending events. They got in using keys hidden under doormats or via unlocked doors. Who knew it would be so easy?

Co-written by the article’s author Nancy Jo Sales, the film is relatively close to the events as described. Taking the perspective of the teens involved, it follows them as they ransack one celebrity home after another. However, there wasn’t much else to it, and without a fuller storyline it struggled to maintain my interest.

For a film, the story needed to be more substantial. Although the opportunity to develop the characters presents itself, this is where the film falls flat. We really know nothing about them, apart from Nicki and Sam bring products of their mother's (Leslie Mann) misguided home schooling curriculum based on The Secret, that Rebecca comes from a broken home, and that Marc has anxiety issues garnered via a passing remark. Also not revealed are their motives for partaking in this series of audacious crimes.

What the film does say about these characters is that they reflect a generation that is narcissistic, superficial and obsessed with fame. In the world of The Bling Ring, having a ‘DUI’ (driving under the influence) conviction like Lindsay Lohan is something to be celebrated, and life goals include owning a collection of Louboutin shoes, appearing on TMZ or having your own reality TV show. On the one hand, the film’s visual style is very reflective of this and looks like a television advert or gossip magazine, interspersed with Facebook profiles and pics, white at other times it has a very dreamy feel more akin to Coppola’s Lost In Translation.

What I most enjoyed about the film was Emma Watson’s performance as Nicki, who is perhaps the most superficial and fame obsessed of the bunch. My favourite line in the whole film, sadly based on an actual quote by one of the real-life Bling Ring members, is delivered by Watson, surrounded by paparazzi as she enters the courthouse to face trial:

“I’m a firm believer in Karma and I think this situation was attracted into my life because it was supposed to be a huge learning lesson for me to grow and expand as a spiritual human being...God didn’t give me these talents and looks to just sit around being a model or being famous. I want to lead a huge charity organization. I want to lead a country, for all I know.”

God help us all.

The Bling Ring is out on DVD and Blu-Ray through Roadshow.

-Eliza Murphy

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About Time: A Review

The latest offering from Britain's king of romantic comedies Richard Curtis, About Time is a two hour lesson on how to achieve 'the good life' and that ever elusive 'happiness'. Oh, and time travel. The basic premise is that if you don't get this 'life' business right the first time, just go back and do it again, only better. But then don't, because you've learned that it's better to do it right the first time. Or something like that.

 

Lesson #1: Smell the roses because, actually, there is no time travel, there are no do-overs, and you only have one chance to get it right.

About Time is not what you'd expect from the poster. Yes, it is a romantic comedy, but the love is about family and not about boy meets girl, romantic love. Fundamentally, this is the story of a young man and his relationships, in particular that with his father.

At 21, Tim's (Domhnall Gleeson) dad, played by the ever charming Bill Nighy, informs him that the men in the family have always had the ability to travel back in time. Of course this immediately leads Tim to time warp back to a New Year's party to kiss a girl. Tim goes on to use his new found abilities to search for love, finding disappointment instead, before he ups and moves to London. There, after a time, he uses it to help a friend, which consequently leads him to never had met the love of his life (Rachel McAdams). Fear not, as the situation is soon rectified and Tim continues to jump through time in the pursuit of happiness.

Lesson #2: Time travel doesn’t always get you what you want, and it can’t make someone love you.

Curtis, who brought us Love Actually, Notting Hill and Four Weddings and a Funeral (they're all listed on the poster, in case you were confused), brings us yet another utterly smug, not entirely unlikable, but very middle class morality tale. However, this time there's a bit of timey-wimey travel thrown in for good measure. To be honest I'm not sure why, on the time travel. There are apparently no consequences from all the jumping back and forth, except maybe for one quite major issue that is somehow overcome even in defiance of the logic presented - I won't spoil it, but it has something to do with a very particular sperm and an equally particular egg.

Lesson #3: Children are happiness, so have three.

Honestly, if not having children is a sore point for you, this film will either make you weep uncontrollably into a tub of ice-cream or throw heavy blunt objects at the screen.

I had hoped that the unintended consequence of this supernatural familial trait was the apparent madness that besets both Tim's uncle Desmond (Richard Cordery) and sister Kit Kat (Lydia Wilson). That would have brought some conflict and drama to the story, but no. And this is what is missing from About Time - the story. There doesn't really appear to be one. It's an observation of a life, but there is limited conflict, and where it does crop up it is relatively simply dismissed. Yes, there is death, yes, there is general life chaos, yes, there are issues of mental health, but each of these is passed over as we witness from the perspective of a young lad chasing his own happiness, at his own will, across time.

The performances are fine, nothing outstanding, although I am beginning to lose patience with McAdams' seemingly eternal portrayal of 'love interest', or more specifically 'love interest in a romance with some element of time travel'. In About Time she is convinced she's altogether ordinary - courtesy of a slightly unflattering (read, alternative) haircut - making those of us who are actually ordinary feel utterly useless. Gleeson is charming and so easily middle class English, which is an achievement being the son of the quintessentially Irish Brendan Gleeson. Bill Nighy plays a variation from the spectrum of Bill Nighy, but I'm okay with that.

I think the best summation of About Time lies with The Guardian, which called it 'Groundhog Day with a ginger Hugh Grant'. Apt.

As an aside, a massive part of me wishes that Curtis could bring back the brilliance that was Not the Nine O'Clock News and Blackadder. What is evidently missing from our movie screens is that expression of self-deprecation and satire that pokes fun at the absurd reality that surrounds us. It seems we're altogether too serious now, or too boring, or our concept of cinematic humour is tied up in bodily functions. Shame.

About Time is in cinemas from 17 October.

-Stevie O'C

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