Comedian-turned-director Ricky Gervais had a crack at directing a few films over the years (special prize if you can name all four of those forgettable comedies).Fortunately, Jordan Peele is going down the same path without tripping over immediately. Get Out ranks highly amongst other films directed by comedians, above Bobcat Goldthwait's also great World's Greatest Dad.
This satire of post-racial America and white liberals sees Daniel Kaluuya play Chris, an African-American man visiting his girlfriend's parents in an eerie white suburb. Cue cringe-inducingly sycophantic conversations about Obama, Jesse Owens and which colours are in fashion. Chris gradually suspects that something is amiss with the black manservants and the over-compensating parents (Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener).
Peele does an incredible job of racketing up tension with little flourishes of creepiness, like an entire party pausing when Chris leaves the room. As the mystery unfolds, we're given a satisfying and harrowing reveal as to why these middle-class white faun over Chris and other black people. And unlike most horror films which rely on loud bursts in the score to frighten, Get Out uses an ominous score to accentuate every horrific moment.
As for the cast, Kaluuya is a lead worthy of empathy with some subdued yet startling sobbing, and Alison Williams sweet as his girlfriend. Lil Rey Howard adds some levity as Chris' best friend, adamant that sex slavery is involved somewhere down the line. Surprisingly, this is the only comedy present; despite his background, Peele focuses on delivering a unsettling experience. He does so. It's more unsettling than seeing a dwarf eat his own skin.
FOUR STARS my man!
Yeah that title covers the fact that Life is essentially Alien. A hundred other reviews will state how derivative this sci-fi horror is, and cover the Gravity link as well. In fairness, the latter is mildly harsh; they just happen to both be films set in space where people float seamlessly through narrow corridors aboard a space station. Granted, the uninterrupted six-minute exploration of the station feels like the usually great cinematographer Seamus McGarvey is doing an Emmanuel Lubezki impression.
A group aboard the International Space Station discover organic life originating from Mars. It tries to kill them. It quickly evolves into a high-functioning killing-machine. It is Alien. The plot parallels to the seminal Ridley Scott classic are plentiful (when you watch at home, drink every time something is almost directly lifted). Sadly when Daniel Espinosa's film kills off a random crew member, it lacks the impact of a certain chest-bursted man from 1979. To paraphrase Alien, the crew is expendable.
Jake Ghyllenhaal a mostly bland is the space-loving doctor and Ryan Reynolds is a delightful presence as a straight-shooting jokester. Rebecca Ferguson breaks out her acting skills in a scene with Gyllenhaal - who also rises to the occassion - later on in the film. Hilariously, said scene also features a dramatic reading of the children's book Goodnight Moon. Hiroyuki Sanada, Ariyon Bakare and Olga Dihovichnaya are also present, with varying degrees of character development. Bakare gets the most as a scientist with a father-love of the organism (dubbed Calvin) and the absence of working legs. Still, when Calvin slaughters a crew member, it's difficult to care much.
The antagonist cell-turned-spider-turned-butterfly/squid makes for a terrifying presence initially, as the tiny creature causes an unholy amount of damage, before becoming a sinister version of the squid baby from Men In Black. The driving force behind the horror and the guttural punches Life throws at the audience come from the gruesome nature of Calvin's victim's deaths, even if the end product isn't the most memorably designed movie monster of recent times.
Functional and enjoyable, but - and I didn't want to be that guy - it doesn't do enough to assert itself as its own film rather than a homage.
THREE STARS. Still better than 1985's Creature.
Unlike DC's damp carrier bag of a shared universe (awkward and artificial), Legendary's 'MonsterVerse' is generally a case of so-far-so-good. 2014's Godzilla made a decent impression with plenty of impact aesthetic and a certain level of mystery, and here the kaiju's upcoming foe delivers a similar level of entertainment, although director Jordan Vogt-Roberts uses less restraint than Gareth Edwards when showing the titular beastie of Kong: Skull Island.
Roberts film transposes the typically 1930s set story to Vietnam in 1973, and it acts as a fresh take on the 80-year-old story; we've had enough of that after the 3 hour Peter Jackson version. This gives way to some lovely cinematography with an orange colour pallet highly reminiscent of Apocalypse Now. The plot sees the shady Monarch company surveying an uncharted island with a US helicopter squadron, SAS tracker James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston) and photojournalist Mason Weaver (Brie Larson). If Roberts is going for a weary environmental message he lays it on thicker than an aging prostitute's make up. As soon as the group reach the island, nature - in the form of Kong - strikes back when provoked.
You've come for Kong and you get him very early on. A bit of enigma and teasing would have been appreciated but ho hum, at least he looks great as he grapples with a helicopters and a plethora of giant monsters. Just don't expect much from the human characters. The main gripe from Godzilla was the bland lead, whereas here it's the overflowing cast of bland characters. Hiddleston and Larson are squandered in the bog-standard roles of morally superior cynics displaying some occasionally 'bad-ass' traits. They end up spending most of their time staring in awe at monsters as if to say "hey be impressed" to the audience. After grappling with Kong, the supporting cast - including but not limited to Corey Hawkins, Toby Kebbel, Jason Mitchell, Thomas Mann and Jiang Tian - are separated into two groups trying to reunite. This spreads our time with the individuals even further, leaving them as nameless pieces along the ride.
Samuel L Jackson and John Goodman are given better material. The former has Captain Ahab-levels of obsession as a Colonel trying to avenge his men killed by the gorilla, and some regret over the loss in Vietnam. Goodman, meanwhile, actually has a backstory, albeit a straightforward 'I'll prove I'm not crazy' one. And then there's John C Reilly as a stranded WW2 veteran/comic relief. Is he anywhere near as funny as he usually is? Not especially. Is the comedy jarring to the overall tone? Yes. Do I like rhetorical questions and use them to create synthetic personalisation? Yes. In addition to this, the editing in places seems oddly trimmed. For example, a group of soldiers are heard off-screen and then cut to them having moved twenty feet in a second. The motivations of characters push logic out of a three-storey window too.
Regardless of major and minor issues, it is entertaining, and even shocking in the order and manner in which people are bumped off. Fortunately the glasses of water masquerading as characters probably won't be returning when King Kong gets the ever-loving shit knocked out of him in Godzilla vs Kong.
THREE STARS. Little bit disappointing but still quite fun.
With the memory of the tragic Boston Marathon Bombings still ingrained onto the cultural and social zeitgeist, Peter Berg's factual drama/thriller is definitely not the most essential topic to adapt for film. The noticeable use of recreated security footage and a coda interviewing victims really reinforce how unnecessary the film is in its concept.
Berg does his best to honour those who died and the law enforcement who participated in capturing the terrorists, but - regardless of good intentions - does a backhanded job of it thanks to a few decisions. The central character of Sergeant Tommy Saunders (Berg collaborator Mark Whalberg retuning after Lone Survivor and Deepwater Horizon) is an amalgamation of several real life people, so although it streamlines the plot, it doesn't do justice to those particular people and evokes incredulity because of the amount Saunders does to aid in the investigation. The simple answer is that it the work of a few people. Moreover, there is some bafflingly timed humour during a pivotal shootout, further undermining the integrity of Berg's tribute. However, by setting up every character before their part in the events become evident, it does do justice for some their real-life counterparts.
This isn't to say the film isn't well done on the whole. The hunt for the two eerily conditioned terrorists (played with fascinating intensity and unsettling lightness by Alex Wollf and Themo Melikidze) makes for a taut thriller that matches the finest episodes of Homeland, and this is where Berg's direction is strongest. The cast is perfectly serviceable in their roles, including John Goodman, a mostly under-utilised JK Simmons and Kevin 'Lost-all-respect-for-thanks to-embarrassing-EE-adverts' Bacon.
Generally speaking it's a mixed bag; for every gripping sequence there's something that brings down the film elsewhere, like the often manipulatively cloying score. It's never dull, but never shakes the creeping feeling that it's too soon.
THREE STARS. Good Khandi Alexander cameo.
The 1953 classic Shane is played on a TV, a grizzled man is a desert environment tries to escape his past (Unforgiven), morals are questioned and said grizzled man reluctantly escorts a precocious young girl (True Grit). Zero blue lights are shot into the sky by a pompous villain. You can see how director James Mangold drew on westerns to give this superhero film the mature, poignant feeling that the blockbuster genre usually can't offer. You know they mean business when they use a simple font and push for a hard R. Aw yiss!
Scrapping the sodomized continuity of the X-Men franchise, Logan wisely tells it's own story to avoid being hamstrung by time-travel and multiple Wolverine backstories. Instead, Mangold gives an intimate, (somewhat) grounded swansong for Hugh Jackman after 17 years in the lead role. As much as we all love a shirtless Wolverine tensing, it's amazing to see Jackman explore new areas of the character as he faces potential death and extreme loss in a world almost devoid of mutants. From the outset, the usually unbeatable Logan is weary, bruised and surprisingly vulnerable.
Working as a limo driver to support the Alzheimers-stricken Professor Xavier (Patrick Stewart also returns for the last time) and live a quiet existence as his healing factor slows down. New mutant Laura bursts onto the scene, with her mother requesting Logan protect her from an evil organisation led by bionic mercenary Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook). Child actor Dafne Keen is extremely promising as the surly young girl, progressing into a more tender performance as she builds her rapport with her protector. Jackman certainly isn't upstaged though; he gives a performance twice as powerful as the finest scenes in the franchise so far. The same is said for foul-mouthed, tortured Stewart - AKA one half of everyone's favourite Shakespearean bromance with Ian 'Magneto' McKellen. With meatier material, Stewart gives an outstanding turn as 90-year-old physic which could even nab him an Oscar nod if Logan pulls a Fury Road at the award circuit next year.
On the flip side is Stephen Merchant's mutant carer Calaban being acted under the table by his more dramatically inclined cast. His Bristol accent bleeds through, robbing the character of credibility. It would be alright if Logan was played by Rickey Gervais and Xavier by Karl Pilkington. Aside from this, the only other quibble is the questionable blood lust. For some, it will seem excessive, and a tad jarring compared to other X-Men films, the intention to separate it from those films notwithstanding because it's hard to shake the memory of those films. It's like going from early James Bond to Hacksaw Ridge in terms of the violence dependency.
Still, this doesn't take away from the interestingly de-mythologising elements, such as Xavier's powers being unstable in his old age, Logan attempting to live a normal life and an immortal man facing death. Jackman bows out in a moving, fresh fashion. If the symbolic final shot combined with a fine Johnny Cash choice doesn't at least make you melancholy, go re-watch X-Men: Apocalypse.
FOUR STARS. It would be Five if they somehow found a way to chuck Stan Lee in.
Special thanks to Tyneside cinema for having a preview screening of Ben Wheatley's new film. Plus a Q and A where we met the man himself and star Sam Riley.
Ben Wheatley: There's violence.
Sam Riley: That's a fucking understatement!
Wheatley: Yeah. There's salty language. John Denver.
Our Review:
Compared to champion of British cinema Ben Wheatley's previous low budget films with unfortunately small audiences, Free Fire is the director's most accessible work. However, this 90 minute shootout is distinctly Wheatley: the crushing violence of Kill List is still present, only with a larger name actor's head being crushed.
Brie Larson, Armie Hammer, Sharlto Copley, Cillian Murphy, Jack Reynor, Michael Smiley, Sam Riley, Noah Taylor, Enzo Cilenti and Babou Ceesay. All criminals with varying levels of competence taking part in a 1970s IRA-related arms deal in Boston which quickly goes awry and results in - you guessed it - a free fire. As allegiances constantly shift amongst the chaos, Wheatley (and screenwriting partner wife Amy Jump) never fail to shock or amuse. Jump's off-screen, partially ADR-ed dialogue is hilarious, especially as clueless Copley chimes in, questioning the chaos. Hammer's suave, beard oiling Ord is also great, but there isn't enough space to credit every cast member, as good as they all are.
That said, without these performances, the characters would be extremely thin for the most part due to the short run time and focus on the shootout giving little room for development. Even so, Larson et al imbue them all with plenty of personality as they exchange thousands of rounds. Conversely, the svelter-than-Christian-Bale-in-The-Machinist plotting gives way to refreshing briskness; it gets straight into the action. The volume and amount of bullets certainly make for a persuasive anti-gun advert, and the whole concept of people desperately trying to inflict as much pain as possible onto each other is joyfully dark.
The chaos can often be discombobulating (probably deliberately), but to a point where it's hard to keep track of who is where and what is happening thanks to the fast editing. Though Wheatley never loses track of his goals of entertaining and mildly spoofing the genre (as he pitched it, it's an action film that never gets past the opening scene). Speaking of the extended scene, this is one the factors that make Free Fire such a unique experience. It is a tad messy, but few films offer wit, mystery, horrific violence and manages to deliver it with such gusto. Imagine Reservoir Dogs directed by Adam McKay.
Wheatley even services his inner film fan with some homages to Spaghetti western shootouts. What next for the High Rise director? Apparently a film where women in space hunt crabs with shotguns. Will Wheatley regular Michael Smiley be a crustacean?
FOUR STARS. Very salty.
Left: Luke with Wheatley.
He was ecstatic to meet a film legend: Luke Hetherington, star of Hillside.
Right: Sam Riley was also present and equally delightful.
Fun note: that t-shirt is of the cult Sean Connery film Zardoz. Feel free to Google a jock-strap wearing, middle-aged Connery with a ponytail.
Photos: Chloe Rogers
