Review #778: 'Guardians of the Galaxy' (2014)

With the rights to Marvel's other vast array of T-shirt adorned superheroes, such as Spider-Man and the X-Men, firmly in the clutches of other studios (who are reaping in the gazillions), Marvel - now combined with the surprisingly un-meddling might of the House of Mouse - are finding themselves having to turn to some of their more left-field, obscure creations. They don't come as unfamiliar as the Guardians of the Galaxy, a group of rag-tag criminals and rogues who operate millions of miles away from Earth and the Avengers, a gang no doubt familiar to hardcore comic-book fans, but little more than a collection of strange looking aliens and one human to the rest of us.

It's a massive surprise, then, that Guardians of the Galaxy may be Marvel's best movie to date, eclipsing the unexpected charm of Iron Man (2008), the easy-going chemistry of The Avengers (2012) and the formula-flipping breath of fresh air that was Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014). Director James Gunn, the man responsible for the fun Slither (2006) and the twisted Super (2010), knows that you probably don't know these people, but he makes sure you'll remember them. A combination of risky, but spot-on casting, a well-structured, incredibly witty script by Gunn and Nicole Perlman, and feast-for-your-eyes cinematography by Ben Davis, makes this the most fun to be had all year, perhaps even the decade.

After being abducted as a child shortly after watching his mother die, Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) now operates as a space bounty hunter, working for space-hillbilly Yondu (Michael Rooker) and trying to go by the name of Star-Lord. When he steals a mysterious orb and almost getting killed in the process, he betrays Yondu and tries to rake in the bounty for himself. This draws the attention of Gamora (Zoe Saldana), the green-skinned adopted daughter of space tyrant Thanos (glimpsed in the credits of The Avengers, and here played by Josh Brolin), who attempts to steal the orb for herself.

Also in the vicinity and hoping to capture Quill for the reward money, are Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper), a foul-mouthed, gun-wielding raccoon, and his companion Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel), a self regenerating tree. The four get into a scuffle and find themselves imprisoned by Nova Corps, where they come across tattooed man-mountain Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista), a man with a serious grudge against Gamora's boss Ronan (Lee Pace), who killed his wife and children. Though the group clash due to ego-fuelled personalities, grudges and personal demons, they may be the only thing standing between Ronan and the orb, the latter of which holds almost infinite power which Ronan plans to use to fuel his own genocidal tendencies.

The orb just may be the most obvious MacGuffin in cinema history (Quill even references The Maltese Falcon (1941), one of the most famous examples), and the plot sometimes whizzes by without giving you time to reflect or allow it all to sink in, but it's really hard to care when all you really want is to see these five characters in a room together, and if they happen to blow a lot of shit up at the same time, then all the better for it. The real success is the casting. Han Solo comparisons are obvious, but to lump Chris Pratt's star-making performance into the same bubble as Harrison Ford's iconic space cowboy is lazy and unfair. Quill is a loveable idiot, tough enough to face up to a fight, intelligent enough to always carry tricks up his sleeve, and flawed enough to make us care.

Racoon and Groot, one of the most adorable and effortlessly hilarious couplings in recent memory, will no doubt be the ones that the kids take away from the film, but it's Bautista, a WWE wrestler in his first major role, who truly stands out. He serves as the real emotional core in the film, initially fuelled by hatred and rage, but gradually learning the importance of friendship and camaraderie. Drax's failure to grasp sarcasm and metaphors also shows a deft comic timing, made even funnier by the man's imposing stature and gift of the scowl.

The film trips up on Marvel's usual struggle to deliver a climatic action scene that truly thrills or even offer anything original, but it's the first time I found myself genuinely concerned about a superhero's fate, all five of them in fact. It's a thrilling, beautiful, hilarious, and just plain weird movie, all scored to some great funky tunes from the 1970's (usually blasted through Quill's 'Awesome Mix Tape #1', which he listens to on his retro walkman, one of the few things he has left from Earth). The two hour running-time will feel like barely half the film has gone by by the time the credits begin to roll, and the inevitable sequel (the film is now the highest-grossing of a summer that involved the fourth entry into Michael Bay's CGI-ejaculation Transformers franchise) can't come soon enough.


Directed by: James Gunn
Starring: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Bradley Cooper, Vin Diesel, Lee Pace, Michael Rooker, Karen Gillan, Djimon Hounsou, John C. Reilly, Glenn Close
Country: USA/UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #777: 'Tabu: A Story of the South Seas' (1931)

The brainchild of German genius F.W. Murnau and documentary innovator Robert J. Flaherty (of Nanook of the North (1922) fame), Tabu uses the beautiful, untouched landscape of the South Pacific and employs non-professional natives to tell the beautiful story of love found and lost, and ultimately the death of paradise. Murnau died in an automobile accident shortly before the film's premiere and, thus, was his last gift to the movie-going world. Though it doesn't come close to the iconic expressionist horror of Nosferatu (1922) or the dark, satirical humour of The Last Laugh (1924), Murnau's epitaph is a simple, yet heart-wrenching cinematic poem.

The best spear-fisherman on Bora Bora is a handsome young man billed simply as The Boy (Matahi). His legendary status and unparalleled skill makes him popular amongst the islanders, and soon he has caught the eye of The Girl (Reri - who went on to star on Broadway as Anne Chevalier). They romance each other, but their affair is soon halted by the arrival of emissary The Old Warrior (Hitu), who proclaims Reri as the sacred maiden. She is 'tabu', and cannot be looked upon by any man unless he wishes the punishment of death. The couple brave storm and sea to escape, an arrive in a French-colonised island, where Matahi start work as a pearl diver. But their happiness is fleeting, and Reri is soon haunted by the image of Hitu, terrified she may have angered the gods.

The plot is hardly anything new, but Floyd Crosby's Oscar-winning cinematography makes Tabu more socially aware that the film may have you believe. The subtle yet crucial involvement of the French colonists, finding amusement at Matahi's lack of understanding regarding money and material wealth, is a clear swipe at the creeping of Western civilisation. Bora Bora won't stay pure for much longer. And that adds a gravitas to Matahi and Reri's plight - not only is their romance doomed, but so are their traditions and society. It is one of the last great silent films, a reminder that sound can be an unnecessary distraction, and that picture's can sometimes genuinely speak louder than words.


Directed by: F.W. Murnau
Starring: Matahi, Anne Chevalier, Bill Bambridge, Hitu
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #776: 'The Amazing Spider-Man 2' (2014)

If Sam Raimi's original Spider-Man trilogy (2002-2007) had never existed, Marc Webb's arguably unnecessary reboot The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) would have been a near-perfect introduction to the cocky web-slinger. Andrew Garfield, one the most intriguing young actors around, and Emma Stone, that old-school sassy and husky-voiced beauty who effortlessly charmed in Easy A (2010), were an almost dream couple, and their romantic scenes sparkled with chemistry. But when Garfield put on his costume and went spinning webs across the city, the film owed everything to Raimi's eye for crazy, energetic camera-work, and failed to thrill enough as a re-imagining in it's own right. Raimi's influence seemed unshakeable.

Yet the film was a success, and two years later we have a sequel. The story moves on and Peter Parker (Garfield) has grown too, though he is still caught up in a reluctant relationship with Gwen Stacy (Stone), having been warned by her dying father at the end of the last movie to leave her out of his superhero business. After apprehending a criminal named Aleksei Sytsevich (Paul Giamatti) who was trying to run away with some plutonium vials, he saves nervous young Oscorp worker Max Dillon (Jamie Foxx), who becomes infatuated with Spider-Man, believing them to have a special friendship. Parker's old friend and Oscorp inheritor Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan) is also back in town, and learns that his dying father's illness is hereditary.

With the first having shared so much with the original trilogy, it's surprising that Webb and the writers have made the same mistakes as the one that killed Raimi's baby in it's tracks. Thankfully, there's no emo Peter Parker dance scene, but there is an over-abundance of villains. Okay, Giamatti's Rhino barely registers (thankfully), but Jamie Foxx's Electro and DeHaan's emerging Green Goblin battle for screen time, and DeHaan is far too exciting an actor to feel like he's being squeezed in. Having watched Marvel's Avengers dominate the box-office, Sony are clearly starting to set-up something bigger, but they do so at the expense of the film at hand.

In fact, there's an over-abundance of everything. With a hefty running time of 140 minutes, the amount going on in the film should justify it's length. But Parker spends most of his time being angry at his parents for being dead, similar to the angst done better last time around, and his plucky conversations with on-off girlfriend Gwen soon loose their charm and quickly become annoying. The action scenes, although they look beautiful in hi-definition as Electro causes havoc, suffer from seen-it-all-before syndrome, and some of the dialogue spouted by Giamatti especially, caused me to worry that Joel Schumacher had perched his arse back on the director's chair. It's sporadically fun but mainly just a bore, but I fully expect a third instalment to turn up in two year's time.


Directed by: Marc Webb
Starring: Andrew Garfield, Emma Stone, Jamie Foxx, Dane DeHaan, Colm Feore, Sally Field, Paul Giamatti, Felicity Jones
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #775: 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier' (2014)

After a pretty uninspired first movie, Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), and given little of note to do in the superhero smash-up The Avengers (2012), Captain America (Chris Evans) was quickly becoming the dullest Marvel superhero of them all. Kudos then, to directors Anthony and Joe Russo, who have not only rounded Cap a.k.a. Steve Rogers into a sympathetic, old-school hero in the face of very 21st century dangers, but they have made the best stand-alone Marvel film to date, surpassing Iron Man (2008), and flipping the tired formula of hero-smashes-baddie completely on its head.

After the events of The Avengers, Captain America is finding it difficult adapting to modern life. He's working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and running rings (literally) around his fellow soldiers, such as Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), who he quickly forms a close bond with. After a successful mission taking out some pirates and rescuing some hostages, he learns that his mission differed from that of Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), who went along with him. Not wanting to be a mere pawn in the system and suspecting a cover-up, he confronts director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), who reveals plans to launch three helicarriers, giant warships capable of great destruction and the obliteration of enemies.

The action soon turns to sheer paranoia, as Fury is attacked in one of the movie's best action scenes, and Cap is left to fend for himself as S.H.I.E.L.D., led by the shadowy Alexander Pierce (a wonderful against-type Robert Redford), closes around him. The only person resembling a true 'bad guy' is The Winter Soldier, a metal-armed assassin who seems to mirror Captain America's strength and agility, only with a clinical skill for murder. The Winter Soldier's identity is a poorly kept secret if you happened to be slightly paying attention in the trailer, and his presence is sadly fleeting, especially given the emotional impact his character has on Cap.

But this is a story skilfully told, drenched in a paranoia so prevalent in 1970's American cinema, when Robert Redford was 40 years younger and was usually running from the type he plays here. By taking this unusual and thoughtful approach, Captain America 2 truly enthrals, making us care about a hero that was once a goody-two-shoes, but is now a three dimensional man struggling to adapt to this new, crazy world, having everything he believed and loved about his country smeared in his face. Evans brings a humility to the role, and his scenes with Black Widow (given more screen-time here and lending more evidence to the need for her own stand-alone movie) sparkle with a real chemistry.

For all it's conspiracy plotting and character building, it's not shy on action. The slightly formulaic climax aside, we get to see Captain America finally let loose and lay a beat-down on some unfortunate fellas in close-quarters, Jason Bourne/The Raid (2011)-style. His shield is no longer just a sort of frisbee-boomerang hybrid, but a lethal weapon. But the finest, surprisingly, involves Nick Fury, a near-indestructible car, and a small fleet of cop cars. It's a fantastic film, not only down to it's well-constructed and emotionally-charged action scenes, or the inclusion of a plot you can sink your teeth into, but mainly for injecting life and genuine excitement back into Marvel's increasingly tedious formula.


Directed by: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo
Starring: Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Samuel L. Jackson, Anthony Mackie, Robert Redford, Sebastian Stan
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #774: 'The Expendables 3' (2014)

The first two Expendables movies, though no-one would label them the next Citizen Kane, were enjoyable for what they were - daft, funny 80's throwbacks where grizzled and saggy has-been's re-lived their glory days, when a cold-blooded murder would always be rounded up by amusing quip. Sylvester Stallone put together a huge ensemble of recognisable faces; some veterans of action cinema, some relatively new to the game, and managed to wet the pants of many middle-aged action junkies by reuniting the founders of Planet Hollywood.

But they were fun and nostalgic because they were aware of how silly they were, wise enough not to take itself too seriously. The third instalment of the surprisingly continuing franchise - The Expendables 4 is set for the green light - has made the decision that macho posturing and homoerotic banter is simply not enough, and we must now somehow care for these characters and take them seriously. The trouble is, no matter how loveable some of these actors are (or were), their characters are such one-dimensional meat-heads that, apart from physically, it's hard to even tell them apart, let alone give a damn for their safety.

After the successful rescue of former Expendable Doctor Death (Wesley Snipes), the lug-head crew go straight onto their next mission to take down some warlord or other, only for the groups leader, Barney Ross (Stallone), to recognise the man as Expendable co-founder and long-thought-dead Conrad Stonebanks (Mel Gibson). Stonebanks seemingly went dark years ago, and after he seriously wounds Caesar (Terry Crews), Ross wants revenge. Not wanting to be responsible for the deaths of his friends, Ross turns his back on the Expendables and, with the help of assassin estate agent Bonaparte (Kelsey Grammer), rounds up an all-new (and young) gang of eager mercenaries to take down the man he once called a friend.

The franchise has been growing ever more child-friendly since is started. In the UK, the first movie was an 18 certificate, the second was a 15, and this, a 12A. It's hard to figure out just who this movie is aimed at. Sure, kids with short attention spans will probably enjoy the wobbly-cammed action scenes, but the series' long-term fans, the middle-aged nostalgics, will be scratching their heads at the lack of blood and soft dialogue. It also spends far too much time focusing on Ross rounding up his new gang of indistinguishable and astonishingly dull youngsters. Only Galgo (Antonio Banderas) sticks out, and even his motor-mouthed comedy routine soon gets annoying.

Of the old-hand newcomers, Harrison Ford - replacing Bruce Willis when the latter got greedy, leading to one of the films best lines - is suitably game, but Wesley Snipes' characters is lazily written and is no more than a carbon copy of Jason Statham's Christmas (he's 'good with knives'). However, Mel Gibson, who seems to operating under the idea that if the audience is going to hate him anyway, he may as well have fun with it, is the best thing in the entire film. For such little screen time and lack of complexity, he is undeniably creepy, and director Patrick Hughes has missed a trick spending so much time away from him.

The Expendables 3 is crushingly bad. Even haters of the first, and best, film can surely appreciate it's pumped-up, old-school charm. Two films later, and the series is a bloated, confused money-maker, isolating it's original target audience and seems under the impression that as long as there's an explosion here and a cornball line there, that it can be forgiven for sheer bad writing and film student execution. Maybe it is time for Stallone, Lundgren, Schwarzenegger et al to hang up their boots and war paint and make way for the next generation. But if the charisma-free block-heads whom Stallone finds (it seems that if you can pummel a man's face in, then espionage and machine-gun operation comes naturally) are anything to go by, then maybe it's time for the entire straight-to-DVD genre to finally call it a day.


Directed by: Patrick Hughes
Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Harrison Ford, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mel Gibson, Wesley Snipes, Dolph Lundgren, Randy Couture, Terry Crews
Country: USA/France

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #773: 'The 'Burbs' (1989)

Combining two genres that really flourished in the 1980's - horror and man-boy comedy - The 'Burbs is a slightly eerie minor work from Joe Dante, the director that gave us genre classics The Howling (1981) and Gremlins (1984), both of which blended spatters of gore with goofy comedy much more successfully. The 'Burbs just seems to be missing something. Whether it's the surprisingly subdued Tom Hanks, who is allowed only glimpses of the energy he was so famous for in his early days, or the film's failure to really subvert any of our expectations, it's unclear.

The grumpy Ray Peterson (Hanks) has just begun his one-week vacation, which he has decided to spend lounging around in his pyjamas and drinking beer rather than going fishing or taking his wife (Carrie Fisher) and son on a trip. He is soon drawn in to best friend Art's (Rick Ducommun) curiosity at the strange behaviour of the street's most recent additions, who have moved into a gothic building that sticks out like a sore thumb. They keep to themselves and are rarely seen outside the house, but at night, great discharges of electricity flash and boom from their basement. Just what are they up to? Ray, Art and ex-army nut Lt. Rumsfeld (Bruce Dern) are determined to find out, while lazy stoner Ricky (Corey Feldman) enjoys the show from his porch.

Every now and then, The 'Burbs throws in a bit of inspiration. Whether it's the crash-zoom, over-the-top screaming of Ray and Art upon learning of possible foul play, Ricky's discovery of reality 'TV' years before morons couldn't get enough of it, or the sight of the strange family digging holes in their lawn where you get a real sense of Dante's skill at horror, we get only glimpses of the film that perhaps could have been. Dante doesn't seem invested in the story somehow, as if it was a half-baked idea that was never given the dedication it needed. The observations of suburban life seem dated, as if torn out of a 1960's comic-strip, and the various vignettes which play out in the early scenes are not as funny as they should be.

Apart from Ducommun, whose prat-falls and incessant man-child behaviour gets old very quickly, the cast perform extremely well. When Hanks is occasionally let off the leash, his semi-improvised lunacy reminds us of what he did best before all the Oscar-winning nonsense of Forrest Gump (1994), and Dern is the only consistently funny character in the entire film. But when the credits rolled, I found myself pondering the point of the film. It doesn't sway the plot in any direction other than the one you expect it to go, and although it's a mildly pleasant ride along the way, when Feldman's Ricky says to camera at the climax "I love this street!", I couldn't help but think "why?".


Directed by: Joe Dante
Starring: Tom Hanks, Bruce Dern, Rick Ducommun, Carrie Fisher, Corey Feldman, Henry Gibson
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #772: 'Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery' (1997)

It's surprising to think that the second of two inspired characters thought up by Mike Myers, the flamboyant, sex-crazed super-spy Austin Powers, took so long to catch on. A modest showing at the box-office soon led to rampant word-of-mouth with it's VHS release, and soon enough, around the early 2000's, everybody seemed to responding to questions with "yeah, baby!". While it's hook is a mixture of (very accurately) spoofing 60's kitsch spy movies and outright silliness, Myers' Powers is winning thanks to the puppy-dog appeal of it's creator.

After seeing his nemesis Dr. Evil (also Myers) escape his clutches by cryogenically freezing himself and escaping in a Big Boy-shaped space rocket, Austin Danger Powers joins the likes of Evil Knievel and Vanilla Ice and freezes himself for 30 years. When Evil returns, planning on stealing the world's nuclear weapons, Powers is thawed out and is unleashed into a changed world. No longer are people experimenting with mind-altering drugs and having care-free, unprotected sex, and Powers gets lumped with his ex-partner's buzz-killing daughter Vanessa Kensington (Elizabeth Hurley).

Myers seems fully aware that the 1960's were camp enough already to raise laughs, so the film spends a lot of time paying homage to the likes of the hyperactive energy of A Hard Day's Night (1964), the big-boobed laden, pervy fun of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), and even the ultra-chic photo-shoots of Antonioni's classic Blowup (1966). These scenes are surprisingly spot on, and Myers is in his element running away from an army of screaming girls to that now-iconic theme song. Of course, the film spends the majority of the film in the 1990's, and Powers seems incredibly out-dated, and people now notice his terrible teeth.

Most of the laughs come from the clever observations made of the early James Bond movies. Anyone who remembers Honor Blackman's ridiculously named Pussy Galore from Goldfinger (1964), will get a laugh from the character named Alotta Fagina, or Dr. Evil's shoe-throwing henchman Random Task. Or for anyone who has seen any of the Sean Connery Bond's, will no doubt be amused at Dr. Evil's insistence on placing Powers in an easily-escapable and elaborate death device and refusing to even watch the deed, much to the annoyance of Evil's son (Seth Green). The rest of the laughs are hardly clever - they tend to derive from Myers gurning or daft innuendo - but this is a silly and effortlessly humorous 90 minutes, full of quotable lines that are no doubt as dated as Powers' outfits.


Directed by: Jay Roach
Starring: Mike Myers, Elizabeth Hurley, Michael York, Robert Wagner, Mimi Rogers, Seth Green
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie