Transformers: The Last Knight Review - See Mauling Below

Here at Boxed Globe, we don't use the 'Two Thumbs Up' rating system Siskel and Ebert did. If we did, the fifth Transformers film - and Michael Bay's swansong - would receive the 'Using the Thumbs to gouge out our own eyes' rating. Granted, the action sequences this time around are less chaotic in terms of editing and excess (by a small margin). However, the changing of aspect ratios between shots is distracting and maddening.

As tradition dictates, there is a magical McGuffin, casual racism (which they acknowledge), an arse-achingly long run time and thinly written characters. This time the irritating comic relief is Mark Whalberg's whining subordinate. Yay. But wait! Don't think there isn't something new brought to the table. Shameless derivative material is littered throughout. A sociopathic robot from Rogue One, a highly skilled British woman with mysterious parentage and hidden importance from The Force Awakens. There's even a stab at BB8 rip-off, and they actually have the giant robot testicles (see Revenge of the Fallen) to name drop Star Wars and draw attention to the similarities. Look out for a rogues gallery of decepticons being introduced with Suicide Squad-ish inter titles too. 

To craft a script combining Arthurian legend and shape-shifting robots, a writer's room was made to brainstorm, resulting in the tiresome nonsense that's been slapped onto the screen after ten minutes of thought. A game-breaking element is introduced at one point where French stereotype Hot Rod (played by Omar Sy for some reason) demonstrates the ability to stop time. Why is this not used more frequently? To pick through every plot hole is to descend into a pit of idiocy from which you will never escape. Your loved ones will be alienated in your quest to document the questions this film leaves you with. For example, how did Bumblebee get his voice back?

Don't expect Optimus Prime too much. He's missing for about 90 minutes, only to show up to the bloated climax on the other side. No points for guessing how the heroes break the brainwashing spell. Instead, most of the film is an attempt to wring comedy out of watching respected British actors say "Dude" and "Bitch". Anthony Hopkins' degrading role as Mr Exposition does see him flipping off motorists, but somehow he almost manages to sell it with eccentric charm.

Also Stanley Tucci is Merlin.

ONE AND A BIT STARS. Stop showing the 0.1% of the UK playing polo as if it represents everyone.

My Cousin Rachel Review - Handsome Period Piece

My Cousin Rachel - the new Daphne Du Maurier adaptation - makes good use of Rachel Weisz in the title role of the possibly homicidal widow of Phillip's (Sam Claflin) cousin. For the most part, this intrigue is substituted for romantic tension, which leads to some oedipal themes that would make Marty McFly uncomfortable. The idea of an independent woman in the 1800s being ostracised is also floated around to great effect.

Furthermore, Mike Eley's lovely cinematography is a pleasant sight, such as an especially striking shot of a dejected Phillip eating breakfast. Accompanied with director Roger Michell's sinister framing, you have a visually splendid film. Weisz toes the line between sympathetic and suspicious very well, and Claflin's puppy-like expressions portray his naivety without being an utterly hopeless moron as he is apparently manipulated by her in the second act. It's a shame that the languid pacing and anticlimactic final act mean that the film runs out of steam before a disappointing conclusion. Book readers will likely frown at particular changes too.

THREE AND A BIT STARS. Those pearls are packed with meaning, I'm adamant.  

Baby Driver Review - Incredible Caper

A great soundtrack can either add joyful energy to a film or come across as a cynical attempt to look 'cool', compensating for a lack of genuine style (yeah that's right I'm talking about you Suicide Squad). Here, the ever reliable Edgar Wright builds his film around a mammoth list of songs that lend themselves perfectly to car chases and gunfights.

Baby (Ansel Elgort), a tinnitus afflicted getaway driver for mastermind Doc (Kevin Spacey), tries to escape the criminal underworld while falling in love with waitress Deborah (Lily James). Wright dodges most of the 'one last job' tropes you'd expect, or at least distracts from them with slick visuals and engaging characters. Baby is an inherently cool character, whether he's pulling off jaw-dropping stunts or sauntering down the street in an especially impressive tracking shot brimming with fun visual beats. Elgort's affable smile and believable chemistry with James raises the titular protagonist above a clichéd 'moralistic thief with a heart of gold' archetype.

The supporting cast of criminals are equally watchable. Spacey is so threatening he makes the word "bananas" sound menacing. Lunatic couple Jon Hamm and Eiza González share a bizarre sort of love, with matching tattoos and lovingly committing crime together. Hamm has a increasingly unnerving character arc to boot. Wild card Bats (Jamie Foxx) is the most antagonistic in a the group of antagonists, always a step away from murdering someone or questioning Baby's ability. Jon Berthnal is a plus, in a short but sweet appearance.

But let's get back to Wright. He's demonstrated his impeccable rhythm throughout the Cornetto trilogy, ie, Shaun of the Dead's planning montages. Baby Driver takes it to the next level. Every set piece is intricately aligned with the music; as we build up to a chaotic gunfight, there's Tequila, juxtaposing the increasing tension with the Latin instrumental piece. The Bellbottoms opening is an outstanding array of heist driving, with every minor movement linking up to the song. Thankfully it doesn't end after the first five minutes. Right until the end, seats will gripped, chuckles will be had and toes will be tapped. 

FIVE STARS. That said, Nowhere to Run (to baby) and When Something Is Wrong With My Baby are slightly on the nose.

The Mummy Review - No Scares, Decent Action

Well another attempt at an extended universe bites the dust. DC and Sony have struggled so far with their Marvel-inspired franchises, and it seems Universal are going to up the ante massively with Bride of Frankenstein to recapture audience attention after the lackluster Mummy. 

The cynical attempt to copy the superhero formula is evident through the action-heavy approach. Although the energetic early scenes in Iraq are well directed by Alex Kurtzman - in particular a zero-G plane sequence - a film based on an iconic horror property should try to create atmospheric tension and at least an iota of fear. Even Brendan 'Where is he now?' Fraser's adventure/horror trilogy had some scares; Kurtzman's film should remember its roots rather than capitalise on recent trends.

Sofia Boutella makes for a good antagonist as the life-sucking, seductive title character trying to bring the God of Death into host Nick's body. As Nick, Tom Cruise does his usual mixture of stunts, running and passable emoting, but his character arc of 'rogue-redeeming-himself' feels beyond obvious. But don't worry! Annabelle Wallis plays his love interest. A love interest so mediocre, you'll wonder how she's managed to put several Hollywood films under her belt in recent years. In addition to these somewhat unappetising stars, there's the aggressive, mood-shifting monster that is...Russell Crowe. Coincidentally also playing a mood-shifting monster, who injects some intrigue before the film falls apart at a cop-out finale.

The key flaw with The Mummy is levity. Nick's best friend (Jake Johnson) ends up becoming an unintentional An American Werewolf in London homage, and certain moments that should be played seriously for maximum terror are completely undercut by misguided 'humour'. If it wasn't lazy, predictable comedy and could slap even a slight smile on your face, it would be forgivable, but as it stands, the resentful grudge stays. Guardians of the Galaxy this is not.

For a reboot of the original shared universe (see Frankenstein meets the Wolfman), it should do better.

TWO AND A BIT STARS. You're up next, Javier Bardem.

Wonder Woman Review - Finally

It seems that after a string of mediocre to poor efforts from the DCEU where they've made themselves look like loathsome idiots, we've got something that qualifies as a film. A watchable, enjoyable film. Irritating supporting characters? Nope, we've got a chuckle worthy Lucy Davis. Abrasive soundtrack? Nope, we've got a stirring Hans Zimmer/Junkie XL leitmotif that's only mildly jarring. Unfocused and misguided direction? Nope, we've got Patty Jenkins. 

Best of all, an affable Gal Gadot in the titular role makes a massive improvement on her bland extended cameo in Batman Vs Superman: Dawn of Luke Laugh In Anger And A Child In The Cinema He Was In Because It Was Too Dark For Kids. She perfectly sells both the lighter moments of Diana/Wonder Woman's naivety about the world and the more dramatic moments as the effects of war weigh on her. Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) is a WWI Allied spy who crash lands on Diana's Amazonian home. His presence drives her to seek out Ares, the God of War. Pine as Steve never feels useless despite the Gods around him, and his inevitable romance with Diana feels earned, unlike a certain, recent Pirate-related film.

Danny Huston as the steroid-fueled villain General Ludendorff is fairly weak though, and using a historical figure seems slightly unusual. Fun fact: Hitler attempted in a coup in 1923, intending to place Ludendorff in charge. There is more to the film's villain than meets the eye, and while unexpected, they throw around uninspired threats in an overly CGI'd climax. As for the other heroes, we have a group of rag-tag multi-national soldiers. They are rather one note, and the native American known as 'The Chief' only really contributes smoke signals. Tad racist. Moreover, thematic heavy-handedness on well worn ideas about the horror of war and humanity, how we can redeem ourselves and love conquering all is a slight let down.

This group bears a notable similarity to the Commando group from Captain America: The First Avenger. On top of this, a shockingly similar plot point in the third act to one in that Marvel film. Anyway, Patty Jenkins does a superb job of directing action for someone with virtually no experience in the genre, conjuring memories of Peter Jackson with Lord of the Rings - in the best way possible - as Amazonians bound around firing arrows. In close quarters, seeing the well-intentioned Diana thump soldiers with her shield and stand up to pigheaded misogyny is always delightful. So to reiterate, it's less of a mess than previous DC efforts, better acted, better directed and generally more enjoyable, but does go awry occasionally.

FOUR STARS. Nice homage to Richard Donner's Superman in the alley scene.
Side note: terrible to hear about Zack Synder's current situation.