Review #1,132: 'The Proposition' (2005)

Visceral, unrelenting and poetic, John Hillcoat's masterful and incredibly underrated western filters the work of Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah through the distinctive bleakness of the Australian outback in the 1880s. It's a yellow-tinged place, drenched in sweat, stench and flies, where white men are still trying to 'civilise' the wild lands and rid it off the Aboriginal people, and outlaws roam the plains causing destruction wherever they go. Written by musician Nick Cave, The Proposition tells a story of race, class, justice and family in a country as unforgiving and harsh as the men who inhabit it.

Following the bloody massacre of the Hopkins family, Captain Stanley (Ray Winstone), a copper given the task of bringing law and order to the land, corners outlaw Charlie Burns (Guy Pearce), a member of the notorious Burns gang. With Charlie is his younger, simple-minded brother Mikey (Richard Wilson), but neither of the men are who Stanley is really searching for. The big prize is the oldest brother Arthur (Danny Huston), a beast of a man with a reputation so fierce that the natives have dubbed the 'Dog Man'. So Stanley makes Charlie a proposition: find and kill his older brother in exchange for a pardon, or Mikey gets hanged on Christmas Day.

This all occurs in the opening scene, and what follows is a tale of two men questioning their own brand of honour, and a journey into the heart of a country where law and order simply don't apply. It soon becomes clear why Stanley has taken to such desperate measures to rid the world of Arthur Burns: he wants to make the land safe for his wife Martha (Emily Watson), who was also friends with the butchered Hopkins clan. Charlie rides off into the wilderness, where hostilities await him at every turns, be it wild Aborigines, bounty hunter Jellon Lamb (John Hurt), or the blistering heat, relentless dust clouds and swarms of flies that come with the territory. For long periods, not much happens at all, but the score by Cave and Warren Ellis injects a melancholic and haunting atmosphere into these quieter moments.

It's a delicate balance between beauty and horror, and the film does not flinch when it comes to violence. From the opening montage of grisly photographs to the exploding head that will undoubtedly catch you off guard, Cave is eager to establish that this is a world built upon violence and atrocity. The Burns gang seem evil for evil's sake; a product of their environment (Hurt's character calls it a 'godforsaken hole'), and The Proposition is one of a few Australian films to journey into the country's heart of darkness, making it a good companion piece to Wake in Fright (1971). The cast are outstanding, in particular Winstone, who gives Stanley a much-needed humanity, and Pearce, who say little but emotes real pain behind those red eyes and rotting teeth. It may be too much to stomach for some people and too slow for others, but there's also a poetic beauty to savour for those who can stomach the brutality.


Directed by: John Hillcoat
Starring: Ray Winstone, Guy Pearce, Danny Huston, Emily Watson, David Wenham, John Hurt
Country: Australia/UK

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,131: 'Stagecoach' (1939)

Before John Ford's majestic Stagecoach was released in 1939, the western genre was festering in B-movie hell. While we can all now agree that the genre can encompass just about every sort of human experience and underlying theme imaginable, in the 1930s it had become a joke; simplistic and goofy tales of good guys in white versus bad guys in black that were little more than an excuse to deliver an action scene or two. Although he had made a staggering amount of pictures by the time he directed Stagecoach, John Ford left it relatively late in his career to become the lauded auteur he would be remembered as being when he adapted Ernest Haycox's short story The Stage to Lordsburg.

Stagecoach is special indeed. Not only did it revitalise a flailing genre, but it seems to give birth to another - something more classical, thoughtful and mythical. This is, in part, down to the casting of John Wayne as The Ringo Kid, an actor who became so synonymous with the role that he spent his entire career both embracing and running away from it. Already a veteran of around eighty movies made for 'Poverty Row', the still-young Duke was only cast after Ford stubbornly insisted on it, while the studio wanted Gary Cooper. Ford knew he would be a star, and the director certainly gives him an introduction worthy of a screen giant. As we first meet the Kid, cocking his rifle as a tracking shot brings us close to his face, it's inconceivable just how Ford was the only one to recognise his screen presence.

Yet Wayne is only one of a magnificent ensemble of characters flung together in the claustrophobic stagecoach as it heads closer towards towards hostile Indian territory. Everyone on board seems to wrestle with their own vice or prejudice, including effeminate whiskey salesman Peacock (Donald Meek), brooding Southern gambler Hatfield (John Carradine), and shifty banker Gatewood (Berton Churchill). The two largest roles go to Claire Trevor as kind-hearted prostitute Dallas and Thomas Mitchell as the alcoholic Doc Boone, the latter winning an Academy Award for his efforts as the blow-hard whose realisation of his own flaws become his redemption. The two are set on their journey after being thrown out of town by the 'Ladies' Law and Order League' - a group of busybodies who begrudge any sort of moral taint on their town - as Doc cries social prejudice.

The idea of social prejudice being rampant in a country guilty of its own recent atrocities is a key theme running throughout, and Stagecoach is a surprisingly liberal movie, despite the depiction of the screaming Apaches, who play the enemy here. We spend a lot of time with the characters before we get to climactic action sequence, but the skill in which they are drawn and played, along with the fascination of watching these shunned personas unite against a common goal, means it never feels like Ford is making us wait. The Apache attack is a high-speed work of technical brilliance, featuring stunt work so nail-biting that you won't even stop to ponder why they don't just shoot the horses. It's so memorable that you'll forgive the redundant second climax featuring the Ringo Kid's unfinished business with the Plummer gang, and the sentiment that comes with it. Arguably the finest American western ever made,


Directed by: John Ford
Starring: Claire Trevor, John Wayne, Andy Devine, Thomas Mitchell, John Carradine, Louise Platt
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,130: 'Hell or High Water' (2016)

There's a real old-fashioned, rough-and-tumble aura about the opening scene of Hell or High Water, as two bank robbers break into two Texas Midlands banks wearing balaclavas and waving guns before fleeing the scene with dust filling the air behind their clapped-out banger. While the legendary outlaws of the West fled the scene of the crime on horseback and sported much more impressive facial hair, this modern-day, un-flashy heist carries the same rush of crime-fuelled adrenaline as watching the likes of Billy the Kid and Jesse James in countless genre movies of old. Yet while the picture certainly attempts to recapture the spirit of the Wild West mythos, its themes are very much rooted in 21st century sociological struggles.

The two would-be thugs aren't after the cash for the glamour, but instead they are brothers desperately trying to raise the cash required to pay off the bank about to roll over on their deceased parents' farm. It turns out that the quiet, more thoughtful sibling Toby (Chris Pine) is the mastermind behind the series of robberies, which are made extra delicious by the fact that they are robbing the very bank they are looking to pay back. Ex-jailbird Tanner (Ben Foster) seems to go along with it just for the thrill-ride, and although he is sympathetic and dedicated to his brother's cause, he's going to carry out his work with a balls-to-the-wall attitude, as it seems he was simply born bad. The jobs are planned with expert precision; using a different vehicle every time and burying them afterwards, hitting the banks early, stealing only unmarked bills, and cleaning the money in the casino afterwards.

But it isn't long until ageing Texas Ranger Marcus Hamilton (Jeff Bridges) in on their tails. Speaking as though he has a mouth full to the brim with chewing tobacco, Marcus is an old-school cowboy who enjoys making fun of his half-Cherokee partner Alberto (Gil Birmingham) and falling asleep beneath the stars with an almost-demolished eight-pack dangling from the grip. He is also the smartest guy in any room, although his easy-going demeanour means nobody seems to realise. After Tanner makes an improvised smash-and-grab while his brother sits oblivious in a diner across the way, Marcus goes and figures the whole thing out. His un-PC sense of humour combined with Bridges' natural screen presence means that Marcus is a real crowd-pleaser, and a nice counterbalance to the emotional weight of Toby and Tanner's desperation.

I had a new level of respect for Pine after the film, as he is an actor who has found life difficult outside of the Star Trek franchise, but seems to have found a perfect fit in the gangly, stoic cowpoke. Toby may even garner the most sympathy as the father struggling to keep up with his child support as well as trying to rescue his childhood home. Yet director David Mackenzie (Starred Up) and writer Taylor Sheridan (Sicario) work to keep their characters grey, and tell a more honest story of how people react in times of financial hardship. The great enemy here are the banks, eager to swallow up property by the handful as posters offering debt relief litter the highways. It's an intelligent film, and one of many in recent times to react angrily to a every increasing capitalist society. Yet it's also gritty and thrilling, and isn't afraid to indulge in a moment of bad-assery, because after all, isn't that what makes the West so endearing?


Directed by: David Mackenzie
Starring: Jeff Bridges, Chris Pine, Ben Foster, Gil Birmingham
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,129: 'Elf' (2003)

At first glance, Elf would appear to be one of countless holiday-season cash-ins with daft costumes and even sillier special effects, featuring a well-known actor performing pantomime on a bigger budget and grabbing an easy pay-day in the process. That is stars Will Ferrell, one of cinema's most naturally hilarious funnymen who seems to be caught up in an endless loop of mediocrity - Blades of Glory and Stranger than Fiction excluded - as the titular human-turned-elf, bodes even worse. Throw in some little people dressed in elf costumes and a romance involving surely the only woman to accept a date with a man who claims to be from the North Pole, and it would seem like a movie tailor-made for a critical beat-down.

Only Elf is genuinely charming, and even more alarmingly, incredibly funny at times. Using Ferrell's man-child comedy chops to the fullest extent, this may actually be the best work Ferrell has ever done. He plays Buddy, an orphan accidentally whisked off to Santa's homeland as a baby. Taken in by the sympathetic Papa Elf (the wonderful Bob Newhart), it doesn't take long until Buddy is towering over his adoptive father and his co-workers. Learning of his biological pop Walter (played by James Caan) and that he is in fact a human, the 6-foot elf journeys to New York City to be with his real family, only for his miserable publisher dad to shun him. Buddy learns that his world no longer buys into tales of flying reindeers and a jolly fat man who knows if we've been bad, disbelieving in the 'magic' of Christmas and draining the power from Santa's sleigh in the process.

Directed by Jon Favreau and written by David Berenbaum, Elf is pretty standard stuff story-wise, and is hampered by a predictable sub-plot involving Walter's struggling publishing company and his dire need to lighten up. Yet there are many touching moments, particularly in the scenes involving Buddy and his young half-brother, and the former's awkward courting of a pretty toy store assistant (Zooey Deschanel) initially freaked out by his maniacal claims but who eventually succumbs to his hyperactive charms. It all inevitably leads to a climax built around a special-effect laden set-piece as Santa struggles to deliver the presents with a dying sleigh, but this is expected from a movie designed to win over those looking for something easy-going and festive. The world has grown cynical, and perhaps so have I, but Elf reminded me that it is no fun being so.


Directed by: Jon Favreau
Starring: Will Ferrell, James Caan, Bob Newhart, Zooey Deschanel, Edward Asner, Mary Steenburgen
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,128: 'Sully: Miracle on the Hudson' (2016)

The miraculous events of January 15th, 2009, when veteran pilot Chesley 'Sully' Sullenberger was forced to make an emergency landing in New York's Hudson River after a flock of birds flew by and took out both of the plane's engines, were reported widely here in the UK, with the media quite rightly branding the feel-good story as an act of heroism by a humble man who had dedicated 42 years of his life to his job. Almost as if the decision-makers felt like the people in the UK were too ignorant to recall a famous and extremely recent incident from the U.S., Sully has received the distracting subtitle of Miracle on the Hudson, making it sound like a TV movie aired by Channel 5 in the process. But this is directed by Clint Eastwood, and with the screen legend behind the camera and one of its most celebrated talents in front of it, Tom Hanks, Sully can only mean one thing - the arrival of awards season.

While the title may suggest a hastily-made cash-in for bored housewives and the unemployed to consume during a weekday afternoon in front of the TV, Sully has Eastwood at his most accomplished, delivering a solidly-made, well-acted tale of heroism in his usual clinical fashion of shooting quickly and without fuss. If you know the story, which you likely do, the opening scene may seem predictable as Sully and his co-pilot Jeff Skiles (Aaron Eckhart) buckle in and take off, until disaster strikes. Rather than heading to the Hudson, the plane takes a left turn and is soon flying dangerously close to skyscrapers, eventually clipping one and going down in a ball of flames. This turns out to be Sully's nightmare, as he struggles with the overwhelming media attention and the questions posed by the National Transportation Security Board (NTSB). The latter are investigating Sully's actions, and whether the data secured after the landing indicates that it was possible to steer the plane safely back to LaGuardia airport or to nearby New Jersey.

Sully's inability to quite comprehend the sudden mass media coverage and the spontaneous hugs and kisses he receives by the adoring public forms the crux of Eastwood's film, which is, after all, based on an action that lasted a mere 208 seconds. Hanks plays the role with a quiet, dignified humanity, something the actor has mastered in more recent years, despite not receiving an Oscar nomination since 2000's Cast Away. He is so humane in fact, that he needs to remind the NTSB that the very thing they're investigating - human error - is just that; human. Regardless of how many data checks are carried out or simulations are conducted, the human factor cannot be replicated. This was a decision made in a split second, with the knowledge that the lives of hundreds of people are in his hands weighing down on him and decades of experience guiding his hands. Hanks may not get award recognition once again here, but it is undoubtedly a terrific, understated performance.

Sully ultimately struggles with deciding how to pace itself, frequently jumping back and forth in time between the events before, during and after the landing, as well as a couple of brief scenes depicting the pilot's early days learning to conquer the skies. The events itself is also shown multiple times from different perspectives, including an air-traffic controller who believes the plane to have surely crashed after disappearing off the radar, with unnecessary focus on a collection of passengers whose stories quickly descend into sentiment and cliche. It all seems like padding for a film that would have surely worked better telling a straight-forward story of a man's act of heroism and the emotional after-effects, rather than trying to juice up the tale by turning the ones investigating the incident into little more than snarling suits. When Sully simply lets Hanks do his thing, it's great drama, and the re-enactment itself is as equally terrifying as it is thrilling, but the moments in between drag the film down into tedious waters.


Directed by: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Tom Hanks, Aaron Eckhart, Laura Linney, Mike O'Malley, Anna Gunn
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,127: 'The Look of Love' (2013)

After collaborating on 24 Hour Party People (2002) and A Cock and Bull Story (2005), two equally unconventional and uncompromising approaches to the biopic and novel adaptation respectively, prolific writer/director Michael Winterbottom and star Steve Coogan coupled up once again to tell the story of Paul Raymond, the property and smut tycoon once honoured with the title of richest man in the UK. While hit-and-miss in the comedy department and narratively all over the place, the double-act's first two collaborations were certainly all the more interesting for it, tossing formulas out of the window as they tried to grasp the nature and energy of their subjects, 'Madchester' music producer Tony Wilson and Laurence Sterne's famously unfilmable novel The Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy, Gentleman.

Perhaps the most disappoint thing about The Look of Love is just how formulaic it is, despite trying to convince us otherwise by peppering the narrative with clearly ad-libbed vignettes involving a small score of British comedians. Beginning in the 1950's, and in black-and-white, when Raymond was working as a sea-side impresario, the picture then does a good job capturing the glitz and glamour of the 1960's, as Raymond's interests evolve from owning every property he can lay his hands on to offering titillating entertainment the stuffy yet curious masses. He puts on an awful theatrical production that claims to be a romp with added boobies, which is panned critically but does little but stir up more interest. After the energetic, entertaining rise, the film plummets into a non-stop barrage of cocaine, orgies and excess for its second act.

Raymond's wife Jean (Anna Friel) seems happy with her comfortable life of luxury and even lets her husband have sex with other women, but she is soon abandoned after the beautiful starlet of his new show, Fiona (Tamsin Egerton), catches his eye. By the 1970s, his 'tasteful' shows have given way to pornographic (but hugely popular) magazine Men Only, with Fiona as one of its most popular attractions, and his hedonistic lifestyle spirals further and further out of control. While his riches grow, he increasingly isolates the people around him. Except that is, for his daughter Debbie (the lovely Imogen Poots), an entitled yet troubled girl who shares her father's fondness for excess, and who seems to be the only person Raymond actually cares about.

Just what attracted Winterbottom and Coogan to Paul Raymond is a mystery. Making a movie about such an unappealing arsehole can certainly be interesting done the right way, but The Love of Love doesn't seem keen on saying anything profound about the man, the business he was in, or the society he operated in. Coogan hardly stretches himself either, playing Raymond as Alan Partridge playing Raymond, randomly throwing in a Marlon Brando impression and pretentiously quoting artists more intelligent than him. After a lively first half, events quickly descend into scene after scene of naked flesh and terrible wigs; all style and very little substance at all. It pains me to say it, as Winterbottom is one of the best British directors around who never seems content with playing in one genre, and even his lesser works always have talking points. But The Look of Love is empty and long, albeit bolstered by an impressive Poots and a wonderfully smarmy Chris Addison in a smaller role.


Directed by: Michael Winterbottom
Starring: Steve Coogan, Anna Friel, Imogen Poots, Tamsin Egerton, Chris Addison, James Lance
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,126: 'The Car' (1977)

Owing much to the popular 'road movies' of the 1970's such as Vanishing Point, Death Race 2000 and, in particular, Steven Spielberg's Duel, Elliot Silverstein's The Car also takes its influence from another Spielberg movie, Jaws. Released in 1975, Jaws killed it at the box office as well as terrifying its audience members, and Universal was keen to replicate this formula, only this time on land. Spielberg played with people's fear of sharks and the unknown beasts lurking in the water, so what ignites the same kind of terror and has people fleeing for their lives on land? Cars, apparently, and here a small town in the deserts of New Mexico is stalked by a demonic Lincoln Continental.

Following the murder of two cyclists rammed off the road and a young hitchhiker crushed after insulting the passing vehicle, reports flood into the sheriff's office of an aggressive black car with apparently no driver. Sheriff Everett (John Marley) calls out for road-blocks to surround the town, but neighbouring areas never see the car enter or arrive. Chief Deputy Wade Parent (James Brolin) is having to deal with the issue of introducing his girlfriend Lauren (Kathleen Lloyd) to his daughters as a permanent member of the household, but this becomes the least of his problems when he finds himself placed in charge of saving his town from the unstoppable automobile.

The similarities to Jaws are numerous and The Car was universally panned upon release for being little more than a rip-off without any of Spielberg's technical mastery. However, the years have been kind to The Car and it comes across now as a rather charming slice of 70's exploitation. Although the premise is ridiculous and without explanation, it takes itself quite seriously, and the titular Lincoln proves itself to be an intimidating foe at times. There is also a surprising amount of attention given to the colourful supporting characters, including Marley as the ageing sheriff with a still-burning love for a domestically abused childhood sweetheart, and a recovering alcoholic cop played by Ronny Cox. A fun if forgettable little movie, perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.


Directed by: Elliot Silverstein
Starring: James Brolin, Kathleen Lloyd, John Marley, R.G. Armstrong, Ronny Cox
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,125: 'Frozen' (2013)

Disney cannot seem to do much wrong these days. With Marvel, Pixar and Lucasfilm now under their wing, and billions of dollars rolling in as a result of those franchises, it's easy to forget that they were built on beautiful, groundbreaking hand-drawn animation that had children and adults alike utterly bewitched. With Pixar taking the lead as the modern-day innovators of animation, it's been a while since Disney delivered a 'cartoon' that really resonated with audiences on the level of, say, Dumbo (1941), The Jungle Book (1967) or The Lion King (1994). That all changed with Frozen, with the film raking in over $1 billion at the box office and receiving an Oscar for Best Animated Feature, as well as triumphing in the merchandise department. It's also now near-impossible to avoid hearing 'Let It Go' at Christmas time.

In the land of Arandelle, sisters Elsa and Anna enjoy a close friendship, with Elsa possessing the powers to manipulate ice and turn the most miserable of rooms into a dream-like playground. They are also princesses living in a huge castle, with their much-loved parents ruling the land as they play. After Elsa accidentally injures her sister as they play in the snow, her parents take her to a group of trolls who heal her, but insist that her memories of Elsa's powers are wiped to protect her from future harm. Elsa agrees, and locks herself in her bedroom, shunning the confused and lonely Anna. Years later, the king and queen are lost at sea, so the town prepares for the Elsa's (voiced by Idina Menzel) coronation. With the soon-to-be-queen unable to control her powers, she flees Arandelle, leaving it frozen in her wake. With the Duke of Weselton (Alan Tudyk) hoping to seize power in her absence, Anna (Kristen Bell) goes in pursuit of her sister, with hunky ice trader Kristoff (Jonathan Groff) and his dopey reindeer for company.

I was somewhat perplexed for the first third of Frozen. Early versions of the script had a more formulaic good sister vs bad sister dynamic, with an evil Elsa hijacking her sisters wedding and deliberately trying to kill her. The changes implemented were undoubtedly for the better, making for a much more interesting central relationship in the process, but this may also be the reason that several aspects are left unexplained. The origin of Elsa's powers raises the biggest question mark, with the film expecting the audience to simply accept her abilities as one of the quirks of a magical, fairytale land. Do we need a full explanation of how the princess can conjure an ice palace a la Dr. Manhattan and give life to goofy snowman Olaf (Josh Gad)? Well, no, but a little perspective would not be quite as jarring. The memory-erasing of Anna also seems somewhat harsh, with the extent of her injury never quite explored.

Still, Frozen succeeds by taking a formula that has served Disney well for decades and tweaking it for a modern audience. Instead of a snarling bad guy, we get the conflicted Elsa, a young girl with unfathomable powers who plays the role of anti-hero on occasion. The central love story is not between a beautiful princess and a handsome hero, but between two sisters whose bond is stronger than any destructive power. While I'm sick to death of hearing Let It Go, the moment Menzel belts out the infectious tune during the film is a wonderful moment. The remainder of the songs aren't quite as catchy, but the lush animation proves to be a wonderful distraction, and the comic relief Olaf is a genuinely funny, incredibly weird creation. While it's no masterpiece or even a game-changer, Frozen has all the makings of a Disney classic (arguably it already is). While parents may say they don't make 'em quite like they used to, I remember hearing the same thing back in 1994 when I saw Simba earn his crown.


Directed by: Chris Buck, Jennifer Lee
Voices; Kristen Bell, Idina Menzel, Jonathan Groff, Josh Gad, Santino Fontana, Alan Tudyk
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,124: '10 Rillington Place' (1971)

Director Richard Fleischer had already documented the activities and eventual incarceration of a real-life serial killer in The Boston Strangler (1968), casting a lauded actor against type and bringing out a terrific performance in the process. Strangler is an invigorating psychological thriller, with the murders committed by Tony Curtis' Albert Salvo captured rather ingeniously using split-screen, a visual trick that died out rather quickly. With 10 Rillington Place, Fleischer's approach took a rather darker turn, with the colour palette notably muted, the actors underplaying their parts, and a tone much more akin to horror.

Richard Attenborough was mainly known to audiences for his roles as small-town gangster Pinkie Brown in Brighton Rock (1947), the unlucky Big X in The Great Escape (1963) and, much later in his career, the lovable but misguided John Hammond in Jurassic Park (1993). He was usually cast as the nice guy or the voice of reason, and, despite his diminutive stature, he nevertheless had a massive screen presence. This presence is employed to full effect in 10 Rillington Place. As the softly spoken serial killer John Christie, Attenborough turns in one of the best performances of his career. Christie wasn't intimidating or even particularly intelligent, but used his skills of manipulation to lure his victims to their death, and was incredibly lucky to get away with it for so long. The opening scene, set in 1944, sees Christie administrating common household gas cut with a disguising odor to a lady he has promised medicinal treatment to, before strangling her and raping her corpse.

5 years later, and Christie is still living at 10 Rillington Place, a squalid and decaying terraced house in London, with his wife Ethel (Pat Heywood). Married couple Timothy (John Hurt) and Beryl Evans (Judy Geeson) and their infant daughter rent the available flat upstairs, and Christie takes an immediate interest in the young, pretty Beryl. Timothy cannot read or write, and enjoys spending most nights telling outlandish stories in his local pub. When Beryl discovers she is pregnant again without any hope of financially supporting another child, Christie convinces the Evans's to allow him to carry out an abortion, claiming to be a former doctor struck off the register for helping out young girls in the past. The subsequent events lead to one of the most appalling cock-ups in British criminal history, and a very disturbing insight into the mind of a remorseless monster who placed his own sexual desires and gratification above human value.

The aesthetic is pure kitchen-sink, with grimy browns and a grainy image really bringing to life the run-down community that was suffering from the economic downfall experienced by Britain after World War II. The grimy palette matches Christie's complete disregard for human life, making for a truly disturbing atmosphere. Fleischer doesn't seem to be eager to make us sympathise with any of the characters, wisely allowing to let the story to unravel matter-of-factly, but you cannot help but sympathise with Timothy, magnificently played by Hurt, as he fumbles his way through a botched police interrogation and into the courts for a crime he did not commit. If there is a criticism to be had, it would only be that I would have liked more focus on Ethel, a woman who remained silent as she watched her husband lie and commit atrocities, as I'm sure her tale would be as equally fascinating and troubling. Like many households of horrors, 10 Rillington Place has since been knocked down, but Christie's grisly legacy remains one of the most notorious cases of mass-murder in British history.


Directed by: Richard Fleischer
Starring: Richard Attenborough, John Hurt, Judy Geeson, Pat Heywood
Country: UK

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,123: 'Hellraiser: Hellworld' (2005)

Due to the release of Hellraiser: Deader - the previous instalment in the increasingly dismal Clive Barker franchise - being delayed for two years before finally crawling straight to DVD, 2005 saw not one, but two follow-ups to the classic original and its stream of sequels. Hellrasier: Hellworld is director Rick Bota's third and, thankfully, final entry, and he bows out with his most atrocious Hellraiser film yet, having succeeded in turning the world of Cenobites, sadism and the quest for the ultimate pleasure into a running joke of slasher cliches, with an obligatory, blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo by Pinhead (Doug Bradley) to loosely tie into Barker's mythology and allowing production company Dimension to retain the rights to the series in the process.

Two years after they buried a close friend who became obsessed with playing online game Hellworld (based on Hellraiser) and committed suicide, five friends - Chelsea (Katheryn Winnick), Jake (Christopher Jacot), Derrick (Khary Payton), Mike (Henry Cavill) and Allison (Anna Tolputt) - receive an invitation to attend a private Hellworld party held at an old mansion. The group are warmly welcomed by the host (played by Lance Henriksen) and are taken on a tour of the mansion's lower levels, which include a former asylum and convent. After initially taking the extremeness of the party with a pinch of salt, the group start to experience strange events, such as becoming invisible to everybody around them, and the appearance of Pinhead and his Cenobites.

Boasting a more recognisable cast than Rick Bota's previous entries, Hellworld still manages to fall flat on just about every level. With the action moving into the digital era with the shoddy-looking website the characters seem so enamoured with, the action is rooted firmly in the mid-90's, and is shot with the same bland, TV movie aesthetic that dogged many forgotten, bottom-shelf horror features during the decade. You would think that the presence of Henriksen, who is something of a cult legend in the B-movie circuit, would liven things up, but he looks half-asleep during his handful of scenes. Only Winnick, now enjoying success with TV drama Vikings, appears to be an actual actor, with future Man of Steel Henry Cavill mugging his way to the most annoying performance of the lot. There is nothing at all to recommend about Hellworld, with Bradley subsequently bailing the role that made him a horror icon. 

Directed by: Rick Bota

Starring: Lance Henriksen, Katheryn Winnick, Christopher Jacot, Henry Cavill, Khary Payton, Doug Bradley

Country: USA/Romania

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,122: 'War Dogs' (2016)

There were many shocking and quite unbelievable stories to emerge from the U.S. during the Bush/Cheney administration, but none were quite as fantastical as the overwhelming position 20-something minor-league arms dealers Efraim Diveroli and David Packouz found themselves in. Their tale is utterly preposterous, but entirely true, although events naturally have been dramatised for the film. Like something straight out of a culture-clash comedy from the 1980s, Diveroli and Packouz landed a $298 million Pentagon contract involving over a hundred million rounds of ammunition. The mishandling of the deal and the pair's subsequent falling out was covered in a Rolling Stone article by Guy Lawson, and later in a book by Lawson entitled Arms and the Dudes.

David Packouz (Miles Teller) is a pot-smoking massage therapist working in Miami, Florida, dividing his spare time between his girlfriend Iz (Ana de Armas) and trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to flog the high-quality Egyptian bed-sheets that he has invested in to retirement homes. At a funeral, he encounters his old best friend Efraim (Jonah Hill), who has made a success in Los Angeles trading in arms on eBay. They rekindle their friendship, despite Efraim proving himself to be a unpredictable loose-cannon, and David eventually joins his chum at his new business venture AEY. With the war raging in Iraq, the government has set up a website offering contracts for weapons and military equipment. David's job is to pick up the crumbs; those small orders the big companies ignore.

There are, as Efraim informs David, a hell of a lot of crumbs, and the two are soon making their fortunes while Efraim indulges in everything from prostitutes to copious amounts of cocaine. The two grew up loving Brian De Palma's Scarface (1983), and imagery from the film adorns AEY's office walls. The same unquenchable greed that possessed Al Pacino's character seems to drive Efraim also, and it isn't long before you can see the inevitable downfall on the horizon. Director Todd Phillips, on the back of those terrible The Hangover sequels, seems to be intent on making a semi-serious film, and wisely takes inspiration from some of America's great dark-side-of-the-American-dream cinematic works, such as De Palma's aforementioned drug-lord saga and Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas (1990). But, unlike Adam McKay's The Big Short from last year, Phillips doesn't have the nerve to go all the way.

Where McKay exquisitely balanced comedy, drama and satire to dazzling effect, Phillips seems too intent on focusing on the goofball antics of its hapless anti-heroes to deliver any real bite. This is a story that highlights many things from the government's irresponsible approach to warfare, the dangerous practice of allowing just anybody to legally deal in arms, and the devastating effects of blind ambition, but these themes are only touched upon. Packouz is essentially our lead character, but he feels like little more than an exposition tool, with de Armas getting the thankless role of the boring partner who must warn her hubby whenever his actions lead him into the dark side. Thankfully, Jonah Hill is a tour de force, cranking his loathsome character up to 11 without ever feeling unbelievable, proving once again what a versatile actor he is becoming. If you're looking for an intelligent satire of a fascinating recent event, then you probably won't find it here, but as a piece of entertainment, it certainly delivers.


Directed by: Todd Phillips
Starring: Miles Teller, Jonah Hill, Ana De Armas, Bradley Cooper, Kevin Pollak
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,121: 'Tarantula' (1955)

One of countless 'big bug' features to come out of the U.S. during the 1950s, Jack Arnold's Tarantula is one of the most enjoyable of its kind. After Gordon Douglas' Them! really kicked off the fad in the previous year, Tarantula has everything audiences came to love about the genre; a dusty, middle-of-nowhere Arizona setting, the handsome yet charisma-free hero, the screeching love interest, the shady doctor who certainly knows far more than he is letting on, and, of course, the giant, 'terrifying' monster. What makes this film slightly more interesting than others of its ilk is the fact that it doesn't blame radiation on the deformed beast, but actually attempts to tell a story.

After renowned biological research scientist Eric Jacobs (Eddie Parker) is found dead in the desert, apparently suffering from a rapid form of acromegaly, Dr. Matt Hastings (John Agar) is called in from a nearby town to investigate. When Hastings suggests an autopsy to figure out what brought on such a rare disease and how it killed Jacobs so quickly, Dr. Gerald Deemer (Leo G. Carroll), one of Jacobs' colleagues, refuses his request and signs the death certificate himself. Back at Deemer's isolated desert research lab, it is revealed that the doctor has been experimenting on animals in a bid to save the future planet's food shortage, and has increased the size of a number of his subjects, including a tarantula. After a fire destroys Deemer's lab, the Arizona landscape is soon overshadowed by the giant, hungry arachnid. 

While a radioactive isotope does crop up at one point, the 50 foot spider is purely the handiwork of a scientist with good intentions rather than government nuclear tests, and therefore Tarantula creates an interesting and conflicted character in Caroll's Deemer. Caroll certainly chews every scene, but proves a far more appealing male lead than the bland Agar. Yet the real star of Tarantula is the creature itself. The combination of matte effects and the use of a real spider, which would later be used on The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) have aged spectacularly well, only failing to convince during the brief close-up shots of the last thing a few poor (and seemingly blind) souls see before they're gobbled up. While the climax is over before you know it, there's fun to be had in trying to spot a young and uncredited Clint Eastwood as a fighter pilot. It's no longer scary (was it ever?), but it has charm by the bucket load.

Directed by: Jack Arnold

Starring: John Agar, Mara Corday, Leo G. Carroll, Nestor Paiva, Ross Elliott

Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,120: 'The Secret Life of Pets' (2016)

The Secret Life of Pets, the latest cutesy, family-friendly slice of talking-animal animation from Illumination Entertainment, feels like it was written as a result of a producer stumbling upon the 'ninja cat' video from YouTube. The trailers promised a fresh spin on the usual cartoon animal antics, with the action focusing on what our mischievous but lovable pets got up to when we leave for work every morning, whether it be inviting their neighbourhood friends round for a party, raiding our fridges for chicken and cake, or using the whisk as a vibrating scratching post. It felt like we were going to get Toy Story with cats and dogs, but what we get is a 90 minute chase sequence bereft of originality and charm.

If you're not familiar with the company Illumination Entertainment, they're the ones infesting what feels like every advert, bill-board and internet video with their Minion characters, those yellow, bespectacled creatures from Despicable Me (2010) who inexplicably inspire laughter from many by simply making a noise, and inspiring children everywhere to demand their parents cough up money on merchandise. Life of Pets is so devoid of ideas that it would be more appropriate to label it an extended advertisement for a new toy range. The latest must-have toy is Max (voiced with an Average Joe twang by Louis C.K.), a Jack Russell terrier who loves his owner Katie (Ellie Kemper), but pines for her every day as she leaves him to sulk in the apartment they share.

Despite spending most of his day feeling lonely, Max is perfectly happy lapping up all the attention whenever she is home, and hooking up with his friends - fat cat Chloe (Lake Bell), pug Mel (Bobby Moynihan), dachshund Buddy (Hannibal Buress) and budgie Sweetpea - when she isn't. However, Max's idyllic lifestyle is thrown into disarray when Katie brings home a huge, shaggy rescued stray named Duke (Eric Stonestreet). A series of events unleash Max and Duke onto the busy streets of New York, where they must dodge vicious alley cats and the always-lurking pound in a bid to get home, but instead find themselves in a kind of terrorist cell for disgruntled former pets led by the maniacal rabbit Snowball (Kevin Hart). Max's disappearance alerts the smitten Pomeranian Gidget (Jenny Slate) from across the street, who rounds up the gang for a rescue mission.

If you've seen the trailers then you've already seen the best parts of the movie, for when the attention remains on the domestic quirks of the many animals on show, there are laughs and fun to be had. By taking the action outside of the home for the majority of the running time, directors Yarrow Cheney and Chris Renaud lose the hook, and events quickly devolve into almost every other audience-friendly animation not made by Pixar or Disney you've recently seen. Worse still, is that the many set-pieces aren't funny, with too much reliance on prat-falls and Kevin Hart's high-pitched squealing to generate any laughs. It's all just noise and colour and no heart, with only Slate's husky-voiced spunkiness and Albert Brooks' slightly unsettling eagle Tiberius managing to inject any life into their characters. It does little but reinforce just how good Disney's Zootopia was, and remind us how Illumination's priorities lie with how much cash is lining its pocket.


Directed by: Yarrow Cheney, Chris Renaud
Voices: Louis C.K., Eric Stonestreet, Kevin Hart, Jenny Slate, Ellie Kemper, Albert Brooks, Lake Bell
Country: USA/Japan

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,119: 'Deadly Blessing' (1981)

Like many others of my generation, I first encountered the work of Wes Craven with Scream (1996), which went on to influence a whole new wave of teen slasher movies that everybody thought they had seen die off in the early 90's. Shortly after, I watched A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), and realised just how influential the horror giant was across his lucrative career. Of course, he was making his mark even before this with the notorious The Last House on the Left (1972), a film inspired by Ingmar Bergman that remains shocking even to this day. With Craven's passing just over a year ago, I've been busy rounding up all of those forgotten minor works, and Deadly Blessing, made in between TV movie Stranger in Our House (1978) and Swamp Thing (1982), is one of his oddest.

On a remote farm named 'Our Blessing', couple Martha (Maren Jensen) and Jim Schmidt (Douglas Barr) live amongst a rural religious community known as the 'Hiddites'. The Hiddites are similar to the Amish in that they keep to themselves and reject modern technology. Some of the Hiddite youngsters, including the dim-witted William (The Hills Have Eyes' Michael Berryman), are fascinated with the Schmidt's tractor. When Jim, an ex-Hiddite and son of sect leader Isaiah (Ernest Borgnine), is killed in a suspicious incident in the barn, Martha's friends Lana (Sharon Stone) and Vicky (Susan Buckner) join her for company, but more deaths and strange incidents soon occur. Is it the work of the 'Incubus', the demon feared by Isaiah and his followers, or is there a deranged killer on the loose?

Deadly Blessing represents Craven's awkward transition from grimy shockers such as Last House and The Hills Have Eyes (1977) to the more mainstream fare he had such great success with following Elm Street. The film's main issue is that there are too many characters, sub-plots and ideas flying around to form a coherent piece. It never seems to settle on a tone, whether it be all-out supernatural, grounded and dramatic, or giallo-esque. However, the messy style of the movie at least makes for a more interesting movie that it would have been if played completely straight. There are a few nice set-pieces, including the infamous spider-in-the-mouth moment, and some fun performances, including an early role for a gorgeous Sharon Stone and an over-the-top Ernest Borgnine, the latter harshly 'winning' a Razzie for his efforts. Certainly a minor work in Craven's repertoire, but recommended to anyone with a weakness for barmy genre movies.


Directed by: Wes Craven
Starring: Maren Jensen, Sharon Stone, Susan Buckner, Jeff East, Douglas Barr, Ernest Borgnine
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,118: 'Suicide Squad' (2016)

With the DC Cinematic Universe properly established with Zack Snyder's overstuffed Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, itself a sequel to 2013's Man of Steel, David Ayer's Suicide Squad is an attempt to introduce a gallery of their lesser-known rogues and misfits - albeit characters who are no doubt familiar to any comic-book fans or avid viewers of DC's animated works - and have a bit of fun before getting down to business with the likes of Wonder Woman and superhero team-up Justice League, both due next year. Surely intended to be DC's answer to Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), a fun, funky and colourful exploration of a host of wilder supporting characters, but the film loses the energy and spunky appeal of the first half as it gives way to a more generic, CGI-heavy climax.

With the near-omnipotent powers of Henry Cavill's Superman now public knowledge and 'meta-humans' popping up all over the place, the government is left scratching its head at how to tackle the next inevitable global threat. No-nonsense intelligence officer Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) wants to assemble Task Force X, a mini-army of super-powered and highly-skilled criminals currently locked up in Arkham Asylum. She gets her wish after she demonstrates to her bosses the power of Enchantress (Cara Delevingne), an ancient witch who has possessed the body of June Moore, the girlfriend of super-soldier Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman). Waller keeps the otherworldly being's heart on her person at all times, thus controlling her, but when Enchantress' brother Incubus (Alain Chanoine) escapes his confines, she is soon free of Waller's influence and seeking to end our world.

The bulk of Suicide Squad's attention is given to the hitman-who-never-misses Deadshot (Will Smith), an emotionless assassin missing his young daughter, and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), the beautiful but unhinged girlfriend of Jared Leto's Joker. The rest of the group, including cannibal Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), pyrokinetic former drug lord El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), drunken Australian thief Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney) and a character deemed so unimportant that he's the only one not given a background story, Slipknot (Adam Beach), are little more than window-dressing. Flag is given command of the Task Force, and has his own sidekick in Katana (Karen Fukuhara), completing a massive ensemble Ayer has little control over. Ayer has always been a poor storyteller, but here he also struggles to maintain a constant tone, with the funny and playful introduction suddenly shifting gear and taking us into yet another end-of-the-world story which offers little to no explanation to the huge thingamabob beaming light into the sky.

In pitting its 'heroes' against a global threat, the film loses the opportunity for intimacy between its characters, Only Deadshot feels properly developed, and even he doesn't truly convince as the emotionless killer he insists that he is. Robbie is very good in her role, but her rushed back-story with the Joker feels shoe-horned in, hampered further by Leto's one-note performance and limited screen-time. The most interesting character of all is El Diablo, the one-time drug lord seeking redemption for his past actions, and Hernandez's performance offers a glimpse to how interesting the film really could have been. Yet Ayer is unable to handle the sheer weight of all the personalities on show, and in failing to give the squad a more low-key mission to allow its members a bit of breathing space, the film gives way to CGI overkill and goes mainstream when it should be punk rock and rebellious. A brief appearance by Ben Affleck as Batman ties Suicide Squad to the extended universe, but DC seriously need to step up their game if they expect anyone to care for the world they are building.


Directed by: David Ayer
Starring: Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Viola Davis, Joel Kinnaman, Jared Leto, Cara Delevingne, Jay Hernandez, Jai Courtney, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Karen Fukuhara
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,117: 'Jason Bourne' (2016)

While Tony Gilroy's rather fumbling The Bourne Legacy (2012) informed us that was 'never just one', the theatrical poster however failed to realise that there would be just one audiences would remember. That, of course, is Matt Damon's Jason Bourne, thanks to Doug Liman's enjoyable first entry and Paul Greengrass later taking the reigns and simultaneously lifting the franchise to a whole new level. Legacy, the Jeremy Renner vehicle, entertained fleetingly but ultimately suffered from its need to expand a universe which was built around Damon's presence and physicality and Greengrass' kinetic action, and so, in losing the series' two main draws, the film felt like another routine action thriller.

It seemed like Damon and Greengrass were done with the world of Treadstone and sleeper agents, but they are both back on board for the fourth entry, the somewhat unimaginatively-titled Jason Bourne. 9 years have passed since the original trilogy was wrapped up beautifully with The Bourne Ultimatum, with amnesiac henchman learning his true name (the less cool-sounding David Webb) and confronting the big bad seemingly behind the brutal training/brain-washing regime that morphed Bourne into the serial killer he cannot remember he was. So, the fourth (or fifth?) entry is the sequel that nobody, including fans, were really asking for, and this was reflected in its underwhelming box-office takings. You would think Damon and Greengrass were brought back into the fold because they had something fresh, but Jason Bourne sits comfortably in the formula that previously brought huge success.

It is so familiar in fact that I could swear I was watching the same scenes of wrinkled government operatives barking orders at underlings in a monitor-heavy CIA office while they watch Bourne vanish before their eyes, only with Tommy Lee Jones instead of David Strathairn and Alicia Vikander instead of Joan Allen. This time around, the super soldier is forced to leave his life of bare-knuckled fisticuffs in Greece when Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles), now working underground as a whistleblower, uncovers information from the CIA of Bourne's Treadstone recruitment and the death of his father. The hack alerts the head of CIA's cyber-ops division Heather Lee (Vikander) and CIA Director Robert Dewey (Jones), who hire an 'asset' (Vincent Cassel) to finally put Bourne to rest. However, Lee believes he could be brought back into the fold and put back to work.

The overbearing sense of familiarity with the story, locations and characters cast a dark cloud over what is essentially a reasonably entertaining and well-photographed slice of action cinema. Damon broods in front of a mirror, a saggy-faced suit becomes increasingly frustrated at Bourne's elusiveness, and a decent actor is wasted as a dead-eyed bad guy assassin (although he is given a history with his prey here). The feeling of repetitiveness really hangs a question mark over the world-buildings potential of the series, as well as just why Damon and Greengrass felt the need to return to a story that doesn't really drive Bourne's story forward. As a stand-alone work, this is a movie that excites with bruising action scenes and never bores throughout its 2 hour running-time, with Damon inevitably impressing. As an anticipated Bourne sequel, it's a passive shrug. The Bourne Redundancy would be a more appropriate title.


Directed by: Paul Greengrass
Starring: Matt Damon, Tommy Lee Jones, Alicia Vikander, Vincent Cassel, Julia Stiles, Riz Ahmed
Country: UK/China/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,116: 'Thieves' Highway' (1949)

Thieves' Highway was the penultimate American film director Jules Dassin made before finding himself banished from Hollywood and placed on the infamous Blacklist. Informed in 1948 of his fate but handed enough time to squeeze out Night and the City (1950) for Fox, Dassin was just one of many cinema giants cut down in their prime (although he would go on to make the masterpiece Rififi in France in 1955), and the bruising film noirs he made during this period were some of the finest the genre has ever seen. Thieves' Highway's world of the produce market may not seen the ideal setting for American's own brand of stylish brooding, but this is one of the toughest and darkest noirs out there.

Nico 'Nick' Garcos (Richard Conte) returns home from the war to find his father crippled after a road accident which resulted in the loss of his legs. After demanding the truth, Nick learns that the crash occurred after his father made a deal with unscrupulous market dealer Mike Figlia (Lee J. Cobb) and was run off the road. Seeking vengeance, Nick first of all demands back the truck his father sold to Ed Kinney (Millard Mitchell), but instead ends up going into business with him on a load of in-demand Golden Delicious apples. Following a 36-hour truck drive, Nick arrives in San Francisco and almost immediately find himself at odds with Figlia. Exhausted, Nick is cared for by good-heated prostitute Rica (Valentina Cortese) while Figlia shrewdly plunders his stock.

Cortese's performance is the beating heart of the movie. A well-rounded, decent person at odds with the shifty-eyed criminals that pepper the marketplace, she is magnificent in the role, a shining light in the midst of an entourage of shady characters. This includes Conte's lead, who while eager to do the right thing at first, soon sees terrible, naive decisions force him into desperate measures. The produce market, with its battered, growling trucks and beaten-down drivers, provides a perfect noir setting. You can hear the cogs of capitalism and industry grind as the underpaid blue-collared types risk life and limb for the chance of a payday. It's littered with the same sense of pessimism and cynicism that made Dassin's Brute Force (1947) such a powerful movie, and will leave you feel somewhat beaten down by the time it's over. American noir at its toughest.


Directed by: Jules Dassin
Starring: Richard Conte, Valentina Cortese, Lee J. Cobb, Millard Mitchell, Barbara Lawrence
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie