Review #1,371: 'Mission: Impossible' (1996)

It's hard to believe that Brian De Palma's Mission: Impossible is now 22 years old. What's even harder to believe is the fact that this franchise is still going, and stronger than ever, with the sixth entry into the series, Mission: Impossible: Fallout, about to be released this very week. Despite some wobbles since, the series got off to a very strong start in the hands of De Palma who, while pissing off a few hardcore fans of the original television show with some bold character decisions, delivered a thriller that really set the heart racing. It's also aged incredibly well. While the gizmos now seem somewhat dated (the McGuffin is a floppy disk), there was always an old-fashioned broodiness about the film that has given it a timeless quality. Of course, it's all just an excuse to make Tom Cruise run, and run he certainly does.

Jim Phelps (Jon Voight) and his Impossible Mission Force (IMF) are on a mission in Prague to retrieve a list of secret agents' real identities. The mission goes awry, with most of the team (which also consists of Emmanuelle Beart, Kristin Scott Thomas and Emilio Estevez) winding up dead, leaving only Ethan Hunt (Cruise) to figure out what the hell just happened. With Hunt the only survivor, IMF director Kittridge (Henry Czerny) suspects him to be the mole within the agency he has been trying to smoke out for years. Hunt flees to try and uncover the mole himself, finding a lead in the mysterious Max, a contact the mole had been communicating with using passages from the Bible. Finding himself disavowed by the government and without a team to help him, Hunt starts recruiting, finding a brand new team in fellow disavowed agents Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames) and Franz Krieger (Jean Reno). Their first mission is to break into the CIA headquarters in Langley and steal back the list, in the hope of finding the rat and proving Hunt's innocence.

There are three key set-pieces in Mission: Impossible that perhaps no other director is better suited for. De Palma is the master of long, tension-building moments of suspense, and Hunt's infiltration of the CIA is an iconic moment for good reason. He must enter into a room from above, copy a file while dangling from a wire, and exit within a set time. Any noise above a certain decibel level will trigger an alarm and cause a total lockdown, as will any additional weight on the floor. Filmed in complete silence, it's a masterfully choreographed sequence. As a trickle of sweat makes its way to the rim of Hunt's glasses, you won't exhale until it's all over. De Palma is better known for leaning of Hitchcockian influences, but his approach here is more Jules Dassin. There are other exciting moments too, and thank God, as the plot is about as baffling as its lead stars affiliation with Scientology. The thrills also distract from some pacing issues, which normally arise when Hunt is left to mope around in a hotel room, and some revelations you can see coming from a mile off (the shifty, knife-wielding Frenchman is a baddie, really?). Mission: Impossible really only has its momentum, so it's best just to strap in and go with it.


Directed by: Brian De Palma
Starring: Tom Cruise, Jon Voight, Emmanuelle Béart, Henry Czerny, Jean Reno, Ving Rhames, Kristin Scott Thomas, Vanessa Redgrave
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,370: 'Iron Monkey' (1993)

When Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was released back in 2000, it was hailed as the arrival of a new form of martial arts picture. The use of wirework and trampoline techniques combined with the natural fighting styles of the actors was actually nothing knew, and wuxia had in fact been around for decades. Nevertheless, the success of Crouching Tiger saw the re-release of many Hong Kong classics: titles that would be instantly recognisable to the initiated, but were fresh ground for those swept up in the martial arts explosion (which was arguably cranked up even further after Tarantino's Kill Bill films). One such title was Iron Monkey, an early 90s Golden Harvest production featuring an early performance from Donnie Yen. While it isn't quite as polished as Ang Lee's hit, Iron Monkey puts its fighting scenes to shame, delivering a rollicking 90 minutes of action and fun that I could have quite happily watched again straight after it had ended.

The name Wong Fei-hung may be unrecognisable to Westerners, but it is a name as popular as Robin Hood within Chinese folklore. He was a famous martial artist and physician, and his exploits have seen him become the subject of over a hundred movies and television shows, the most famous of which is Hark Tsui's Once Upon a Time in China, which starred Jet Li as Fei-hung. With Li wanting to call it a day on the role after Part III was released in 1993, attention turned to a prequel, and Iron Monkey was born. Fei-hung here is a 12 year old, and played immaculately by Sze-Man Tsang, a girl. Most of the attention is given to his father, Wong Kei-Ying (Yen), who arrives in town with his son in tow just as the governor's guards are rounding up anybody who looks suspicious. The corrupt governor is looking for Iron Monkey, a skilled martial artist who is causing a nuisance around town. Under the threat of execution, Kei-Ying agrees to track down Iron Monkey in return for his son's freedom, but quickly learns that there is more to his mysterious foe that initially thought.

The Iron Monkey is local physician Yang Tianchun (Rongguang Yu) who, along with the beautiful Miss Orchid (Jean Wang), battles to overthrow corruption and the mistreatment of the people. The plot is as thin as the wires launching the actors into a variety of graceful getaways, but director Woo-Ping Yuen grabs the attention with a non-stop wheel of dazzling action scenes. The speed with which Yen and Yu jab and spin beggars belief, dusting off faceless henchman with a spectacular array of inventive moves, all of which we get to learn as the characters are fond of announcing the title of each form of punishment upon delivery. Best of all is Tsang, who not only convinces as a boy (I didn't realise until I read up about the film after it had finished), but proves to be just as effective as her older colleagues in showing off her skills. As the bad guys get increasingly tougher, Iron Monkey becomes more ridiculous, but this is counter-balanced by a fine vein of humour throughout. It saves its best for last, as our heroes team up against the big bad on top of wooden poles wedged into the ground as a huge fire rages below them. They balance of vertical sticks, horizontal sticks, and at one point, they are on top of each other on one wobbly pole. It's breathtaking stuff, and proves that Hong Kong cinema had this action stuff worked out long before Hollywood caught on.


Directed by: Woo-Ping Yuen
Starring: Donnie Yen, Rongguang Yu, Jean Wang, Sze-Man Tsang, Shun-Yee Yuen
Country: Hong Kong

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,369: 'Rampage' (2018)

Of the two major video game adaptations to be released so far this year - Roar Uthaug's Tomb Raider and Brad Peyton's Rampage - it's clear which project faced the most difficult task in successfully translating from pixel to screen. The Tomb Raider franchise first emerged in 1996, successfully combining action and adventure with an iconic hero at its centre in Lara Croft. The games had already inspired a move adaptation back in 2001 with Angelina Jolie in the lead role, and a sequel in 2003, and the filmmakers tasked with the reboot had over two decades of stories and established characters to work with. Rampage, however, was based on the 1986 arcade game, in which the player would control a human-turned-monster and lay waste to cities as the army tried to bring you down. That's pretty much it, but it was enough to convince the studio heads that a blockbuster could be made out of the rubble.

In terms of box-office, both movies failed to live up to expectations, and the mediocre takings of Rampage proved, if anything, that Dwayne Johnson isn't invincible. But in terms of reputation, Peyton's unashamedly brainless actioner is starting to pick up steam as a guilty pleasure. It does, after all, feature the muscly charms of the man-mountain formerly known as The Rock, a giant who is about to throw down with an even more impressive specimen, and possibly gain an extra neck-ripple in the process. He plays Davis Okoye, your average Special Forces soldier turned primatologist who enjoys a special bond with albino gorilla George at the San Diego Wildlife Sanctuary. When debris from an exploded space station crash down around George's enclosure, he starts to grow rapidly in size and his behaviour becomes increasingly unpredictable. The mysterious canisters belong to the gene manipulation company Energyne, who hope to create super-sized creatures and sell them off to the highest bidder. Why they are conducting their experiments in space is beyond me, but Rampage isn't the kind of film to benefit from closer scrutiny.

George isn't the only unstoppable beast on the loose: there's also a wolf and a crocodile. Joining Davis on his mission to prevent the monsters from laying waste to an entire city is exposition tool Kate Caldwell (Naomie Harris) and a shady government agent with a cowboy's accent and swagger. Played by Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Agent Russell is the film's most ridiculous character. It's unbelievably stupid, even by the standards expected of a film like this, brushing it's scientific explanations under a carpet and removing any stakes by making its hero utterly indestructible. But I found it impossible to resist its cheesy charms, and the relationship between Davis and George - who communicate with sign-language - is nicely done. Where Rampage fails is in its clashing of tones. Pantomime villains Claire Wyden (Malin Akerman) and her brother Brett (Jake Lacy) appear to have wandered in from another, even camper movie, and the sight of millions of innocents being casually crushed and burned in a wave of CGI destruction as our heroes fire off one-liners always leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Still, I enjoyed Rampage way more than I expected, even if I felt a little stupider as the credits rolled.


Directed by: Brad Peyton
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Naomie Harris, Malin Akerman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jake Lacy, Joe Manganiello
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,368: 'The Incredible Hulk' (2008)

In a few decades, cinema-goers will look back and dub these times the golden age of superhero movies. Of course, they are still going strong, but 2008 was the year it all really kicked off, with three key movies in the genre, two of which helped kick off Marvel's Cinematic Universe. The year saw one of the very best superhero films, The Dark Knight, although for a comic book adaptation it keeps its feet very much grounded. Nolan's movie will always be loved, and so it should, but elsewhere Marvel were planning on doing something never before achieved by a major studio: to truly bring a comic-book universe to life. Iron Man came first, and was a bigger hit than anybody expected, propelling Robert Downey Jr. from a risk with heavy personal baggage to one of the highest paid actors in the business. This was followed up by The Incredible Hulk, a film now with a reputation as Marvel's runt of the litter. Yet, despite the fact that Edward Norton was eventually replaced by Mark Ruffalo as mild-mannered scientist Bruce Banner, the black sheep label is incredibly unfair.

The origin of Banner and his alter-ego the Incredible Hulk was attempted back in 2003 by acclaimed director Ang Lee, and while his desire to literally bring the panels of a comic-book to life was admirable, Hulk was an absolute bore, failing to add any dimension to its central character and struggling to bring the Jade Giant convincingly to life with special effects that simply weren't advanced enough at the time. Director Louis Leterrier's 2008 semi-reboot sort-of accepts Lee's introduction, and starts its life with Banner already living with the unexpected effects of his exposure to gamma radiation. Hiding out in Brazil away from the clutches of General 'Thunderbolt' Ross (William Hurt), Banner is searching for a cure, spending his downtime working in a bottle factory and keeping his heart-rate below 200 beats per minute to keep the angry brute inside of him at bay. Ross views Banner and his powers as property of the U.S. government, and wants him captured in order to harness his abilities to create an army of unstoppable soldiers.

It's a simple premise, but one that compliments the character. Ang Lee tried to find deeper themes in Banner's story, but it just didn't work, and when Hulk finally smashed, it either came far too late or was shot in darkness. It doesn't take long for the transformation to take place in Leterrier's movie, and when notorious Royal Marine Emil Blonsky (Tim Roth) shows up with his army pals, the special effects don't disappoint (although they are dated by today's standards), allowing Hulk to smash and batter with coherency. It isn't all brainless action however. When Bruce inevitably leaves his hideaway to return home, he reconnects with his former flame Betty Ross (Liv Tyler), who also happens to be the General's daughter and dating nice guy Leonard (Ty Burrell). It's here Banner hopes to connect with his contact 'Mr. Blue' and cure his affliction, while side-stepping various attacks by General Ross and an increasingly powered-up Blonsky. While I prefer Ruffalo, Norton is an excellent Bruce Banner, and it's fun to wonder what could have been had he stayed in the role, although it's difficult to imagine him trading quips with Chris Hemsworth on an alien planet. The Marvel universe seemed to go on ignoring its existence before Hurt's Ross turned up again 8 years later in Captain America: Civil War, but its importance in the creation of this now-massive world shouldn't be underestimated. I still remember the goose-pimples as Tony Stark swaggered into that mid-credit sequence.


Directed by: Louis Leterrier
Starring: Edward Norton, Liv Tyler, Tim Roth, William Hurt, Tim Blake Nelson, Ty Burrell
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,367: 'Spider-Man 3' (2007)

When Marvel Studios were finally allowed some control over their most bankable character Spider-Man with just enough time to fit him into Captain America: Civil War, even the most die-hard superhero obsessives had grown tired of the adventures of Peter Parker and his red-suited alter-ego. When Tom Holland's definitive incarnation eventually graced the screen in a glorious extended cameo, it suddenly all made sense. Sony, who still held onto the rights but agreed to share with Marvel and allow him into their universe, simply didn't know what to do with him. They were on a roll with Sam Raimi's horror-inflected vision, which placed character above action and made Parker an underdog you could really root for. But the studio wanted more, and forced Raimi to shoe-horn in a fan-favourite villain at the expense of what was so great about this series. The worst part is that they did it again just seven years later with their Andrew Garfield-led reboot.

The villain the studio demanded was Venom, the razor-toothed, lizard-tongued alien symbiote who attaches itself to Spider-Man and improves his powers, while turning him into a dancing, floppy-haired douchebag at the same time. But Venom isn't the only Spidey foe appearing, for we also have a new Green Goblin, played by a returning James Franco, and Flint Marko, aka the Sandman, played by an incredibly bored-looking Thomas Haden Church. The evolution of Franco's Harry Obsorn has been set up from the very start, so his emergence as his father's successor to don the goblin mask and wreak havoc for our friendly neighbourhood web-spinner should feel natural and well-timed, until he is hit on the head and develops amnesia. With so much already going on, it feels like both an unnecessary step back in the story and sheer lazy writing. We are also given Marko's backstory, and it turns out the lug-headed escaped con was the man really responsible for Uncle Ben's death, which paves the way for more of Tobey Maguire's constipation face during his quiet time with Aunt May (Rosemary Harris).

There's simply too much going on, and when the film allows the pace to slow enough to spend some quality time with its central character, it turns out that Peter has turned into such an insufferable narcissist that we can't wait to get away from him. But, if you've seen the film, you'll know that's not the worst of it. The black alien goo arrives from space without explanation, and just so happens to land nearest to Peter Parker. The posters teased the darker side of Spider-Man, but what we got was spontaneous dancing, winking at girls in the street, and not listening to Mary Jane's (Kirsten Dunst) acting career troubles. I remember hiding behind my hands back in 2007 during the now-infamous dance sequence, and it hasn't improved with age. I've never uttered the words "I just want it to stop" out loud during a movie before, not until I saw Spider-Man 3 for the second time anyway. But it doesn't stop, not for what feels like another two hours, squeezing in Eddie Brock's (Topher Grace) transformation from slimy, unethical photographer into the vengeful Venom, and forging alliances that come out of nothing. As the wasted Kirsten Dunst screams as she hangs from an alien web at the climax, you'll be thinking that everybody involved is so much better than this, and they were, just three years earlier.


Directed by: Sam Raimi
Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco, Thomas Haden Church, Topher Grace, Bryce Dallas Howard, Rosemary Harris, J.K. Simmons, James Cromwell
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,366: 'The Border' (1982)

When one considers the extraordinary acting career of Jack Nicholson, the performances that immediately spring to mind are the likes of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Shining and even Tim Burton's Batman. They were roles seemingly tailor-made for Nicholson's manic arched eyebrows and devilish grin, but he was capable of so much more when, ironically, doing far less. Arguably, he has never been better than as Charlie Smith, the middle-aged and weary border agent working within a corrupt organisation in El Paso. When we first meet him, he is discussing with the owner of a factory which of his illegal immigrant employees to arrest so he can meet his quota of deportations. He reads the Mexican youths their rights like reading from a shopping list, but they'll be back in a few days. Charlie's job is ineffective and he knows it, and it takes a special actor to pull off indifference and boredom without appearing disinterested.

Every night he returns to his nondescript trailer to eat a TV dinner cooked by his stay-at-home wife Marcy (Valerie Perrine). It is Marcy who convinces Charlie to quit his job as an immigration enforcement officer and move to El Paso, where property is cheaper and a job as a border agent awaits him. To please the wife he has fallen out of love with but nevertheless tolerates, Charlie agrees, and falls in with fellow border agent Cat (Harvey Keitel). Along with his supervisor Red (Warren Oates), Cat runs a human trafficking operation across the border, and wants Charlie to join the payroll. Meanwhile, young Mexican mother Maria (Elpidia Carrillo) attempts to flee into the U.S. with her baby and younger brother after an earthquake decimates her town. When she frequently comes up against the border patrols, Charlie start to sympathise with her situation, as well as growing increasingly weary of his wife's wild spending and his colleagues' abuse of power.

The Border didn't do particularly well on its release and its memory has somewhat faded since, but director Tony Richardson's film packs enough of a punch to warrant a reevaluation. It perhaps arrived too late in a decade when cinema had moved away from the character-driven 70s and more towards visual decadence. Yet The Border could also be released today, and its subject matter would be just as relevant, if not more so. It highlights the problems on both sides, with corruption rife and those caught in the middle treated like dogs, and what little progress has been made in the decades since. Recent films like Sin Nombre and Cartel Land have explored and highlighted the same issues, and the result is always violence upon violence. Richardson, who is better known for his exceptional British works Look Back in Anger, A Taste of Honey, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runnier and Tom Jones (amongst others), directs with little flair but trusts the story to pack enough power on its own. Although it descends into a generic, action-packed climax (which was forced in after test audiences reacted badly to the original ending), The Border deserves another shot, and features a Jack Nicholson at the very top of his game.


Directed by: Tony Richardson
Starring: Jack Nicholson, Harvey Keitel, Valerie Perrine, Warren Oates, Elpidia Carrillo
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,365: 'Isle of Dogs' (2018)

Fans of American writer and director Wes Anderson are in for a treat with his latest picture. Returning to stop-motion animation for the first time since 2009's Fantastic Mr. Fox, Isle of Dogs is the auteur's most Wes Anderson-y film to date. Set in Japan 20 years into the future, it tells the story of a pack of dogs left to fend for themselves on 'Trash Island', an expansive dumping ground that looks like the type of place WALL-E would feel right at home in. You don't have to be a fan of canines or Japanese culture to enjoy this tale, although it may help. Anderson peppers the film with his trademark deadpan, straight-to-camera sense of humour, and frames every shot with even more attention to detail than his 2014 masterpiece The Grand Budapest Hotel. Children may be put off by the film's idiosyncratic approach, but Anderson followers will indeed be appeased and then some.

The planet is under threat from dog flu and snout fever, both timely reminders of the recent swine flu 'epidemic' and the dangers of fake news. The mayor of Megasaki City (voiced by co-writer Kunichi Nomura), who is part of a dynasty of long-time cat lovers, puts forward a decree to banish all dogs from the mainland and transport them to Trash Island, despite claims of a breakthrough to cure the animals' illness. His ward, a young boy named Atari (Koyu Rankin), is having none of his caregiver's authoritarian attitudes, and travels to the human-less island in order to find his beloved dog Spots (Liev Schreiber), the very first mutt to be dismissed. Atari steals a plane and crashes it into the wasteland, and comes across a pack of mostly former domesticated canines led by the incredibly democratic Rex (Edward Norton). The rest of the gang consists of Boss (Bill Murray), King (Bob Balaban), Duke (Jeff Goldblum), and the only stray in the group, Chief (Bryan Cranston).

Chief is the beating heart of the film, and the character through which Anderson explores most of the film's themes. The black, scruffy dog is proud to be from the streets, and is quick to admit that he's a biter. He's the only one to refuse to sit for Atari, but nevertheless agrees to go with the majority vote and assist Atari in helping his track down his lost friend. From here on in, it's very much an A-to-B adventure, but Anderson and his co-writers (Nomura, Roman Coppola and Jason Schwartzman) ensure that the journey is anything but formulaic. Along the way, we meet the likes of Oracle (Tilda Swinton), Nutmeg (Scarlett Johnansson), Jupiter (F. Murray Abraham) and Gondo (Harvey Keitel), with even Yoko Ono thrown into the mix. Things aren't made easy by the fact that the Japanese actors speak in their native tongue without the assistance of subtitles (although Frances McDormand occasionally pops up as an enthusiastic translator), but this highlights the communication barrier between owner and pet, as well as falling in line with the film's themes of migration and social integration.

Anderson packs in more shots than is usually expected from animation, particularly in the painfully slow process of stop-motion. Rather than accepting this as a limitation, he uses animation as a tool to bring his vision vividly to life with more freedom allowed by live action. The visuals are even more luscious that in Grand Budapest, with the animation retaining a rustic, old-fashioned quality that makes it feel as if you could reach out and actually touch the dog's hairs as they ripple in the wind. As soon as the Taiko drums start to thud on the film's glorious soundtrack, Anderson's love of Japanese cinema can be sensed immediately. The influence of Akira Kurosawa can be felt throughout (a status of Toshiro Mifune appears at one point), but the precision of the framing is pure Ozu, and Tristan Oliver's cinematography relishes exploring what was perhaps Japan's greatest period for cinema. The mediocrity of 2004's The Life Aquatic must have been a wake-up for the filmmaker, urging him away from his comfort zone and towards more unexplored territory. Anderson continues to amaze, amuse and baffle, and has emerged as one of the most important, original voices in American cinema. I fail to see how anyone could not be utterly enchanted by Isle of Dogs.


Directed by: Wes Anderson
Voices: Bryan Cranston, Koyu Rankin, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, Kunichi Nomura, Frances McDormand, Scarlett Johansson
Country: Germany/USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,364: 'The Stranglers of Bombay' (1959)

The closing title card of this lesser-known title from Hammer's back catalogue reads "if we have done nothing else for India, we have done this one good thing." Referring to the British East India Company's governance over India for over a hundred years, The Stranglers of Bombay depicts the disappearance of thousands of India's population at the hands of the 'Thugees', an organised gang of murderers and thieves who operated relatively undetected for more than 600 years, and how their operations were eventually brought to an end. It is a subject that would no doubt be handled more delicately if tackled today, and I'm sure that those sensitive to modern PC standards may be somewhat offended by the film, but Stranglers is well-balanced and ultimately apologetic for the Company's occupation, finding a positive note in what was a barbaric time.

Captain Harry Lewis (Guy Rolfe) of the East India Company is the only person interested in the reports of over a thousand disappearances, attempting to bring the mystery to the attention of his superiors. However, Colonel Henderson (Andrew Cruickshank) is more concerned with solving the mystery of how English merchants' caravans are similarly disappearing without a trace. To get Lewis off his back, Henderson agrees to an investigation, but opts to hand the reigns to the inexperienced and pompous Captain Connaught-Smith (Allan Cuthbertson). Frustrated at Connaught-Smith's bungling and the general disdain he has for the Indian people, Lewis quits the Company to carry out his own inquiry, and uncovers a murderous cult who make sacrifices in the name of their god, Kali. Led by the High Priest of Kali (George Pastell), the gang's influence goes all the way to the very top, which is how they have managed to remain in the shadows for centuries.

The Stranglers of Bombay is low on horror but higher on adventure. The violence is implied rather than shown, but the film doesn't shy away from their grotesque acts. Eyes and tongues are removed, but most are garrotted with a ceremonial silk scarf. It's off-camera, but nevertheless effective. When the action is away from the thugees, the story plays out more like a period detective thriller, as Lewis plunges himself deeper into this secret world while the population denies the group's very existence. It's no surprise then to learn that frequent Hammer collaborator Terence Fisher is behind the camera, who would always shoot efficiently and make his films appear more expensive than they actually were. The absence of Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing is almost always felt when watching a Hammer horror, but leading man Guy Rolfe proves to be a perfectly watchable leading man, earning our sympathy as the one decent white man in a company of incompetent and uncaring fellow officers. While more attention could have been given to the suffering of the Indian people, the film's heart is certainly in the right place, making it one of Hammer's most interesting, while not their most thrilling, entries into the genre.


Directed by: Terence Fisher
Starring: Guy Rolfe, Allan Cuthbertson, Andrew Cruickshank, George Pastell, Jan Holden
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,363: 'Spider-Man 2' (2004)

With the popularity of superhero movies now at an all-time high, thanks mainly to the runaway success of Marvel's Cinematic Universe, there's a reason that the likes of Richard Donner's Superman and Sam Raimi's Spider-Man 2 are still considered two of the finest examples of the genre. These skilled, experienced film-makers were allowed to fully explore the character beyond the cape and build a tangible world from the pages of the comics they clearly admired. Raimi's 2002 introduction to the wall-crawler was a bigger hit than the studio could have ever imagined, so he was granted even more creative control on the direction to take the story for the follow-up. We last saw Tobey Maguire's Peter Parker turn his back on the love of his life as he struggled to juggle his personal life with the heroics required of possessing such great power, and Spider-Man 2 spends much of its opening hour dealing with the aftermath.

It's a slow build, but one which highlights Raimi's attention to detail. Peter Parker is just as important as his alter-ego Spider-Man, and this sequel explores the idea that one may have to be sacrificed for the other. Parker, a highly gifted student, is struggling to meet his homework deadlines, find time for his beloved Aunt May (Rosemary Harris) and Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst), and his instinct to follow every police siren sees him sacked from a pizza delivery job. When his doubts start to cause his web-shooters to dry up, he decides the time has come to hang up the costume once and for all. His grades improve, but it may be too late to rekindle any romance with Mary Jane, who has agreed to marry her handsome astronaut boyfriend (who also happens to be the son of Parker's boss, the gloriously unethical J. Jonah Jameson played by the irreplaceable J.K. Simmons). However, thanks to his best friend Harry Osborne (James Franco), Peter lands a gig shadowing the world-renowned scientist Otto Octavius (Alfred Molina). When a fusion experiment goes tragically wrong, Octavius is transformed into the eight-limbed Dr. Octopus, and Spidey's heroics are called upon once again.

As with all the great superhero villains, 'Doc Ock' is a distorted reflection of our hero. As Peter's powers burden him with great responsibility, Octavius - a good guy under the control of his newly acquired robotic tentacles - wrestles with his own alter-ego. In a genre so often watered down with CGI action, it's refreshing to see so much attention devoted to developing the characters' arcs. If anything, Spider-Man 2 is less engaging when the focus lingers on the hero/villain smackdowns. With more creative control at his disposal, Raimi cannot resist returning to the genre he made his name in back in 1981 with The Evil Dead, which is still one of the inventive horror films ever made. He particularly indulges himself during the now-famous scene of Octavius waking up in theatre, and Raimi throws the camera at his victims POV-style in truly glorious fashion, using all the genre tricks in his arsenal to horrify the viewers without having to venture into R-rated territory. Frustratingly, we are left to wonder why the studio felt the need to meddle with Raimi's vision for the third entry into the series, which was a travesty, and the reason for the director's eventual departure from the franchise. Spider-Man 2 is also a nostalgia trip to a time when a superhero could exist in their own world without the need to be part of some larger expanded universe.


Directed by: Sam Raimi
Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco, Alfred Molina, Rosemary Harris, J.K. Simmons
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,362: 'Ready Player One' (2018)

When I was kid and the Super Nintendo was most people's console of choice, I played Street Fighter II a hell of a lot, often venting my frustration whenever I lost a fight (my blood boils at the very mention of Sagat). My grandmother took the controller to a computer shop in order to buy a replacement and, seeing my teeth marks etched into the control pad, the guy behind the counter asked if we had a dog. It was at this point I realised that I didn't quite have the temperament for gaming, and pretty much stayed away ever since. For this reason, I went into Steven Spielberg's Ready Player One thinking that I wasn't the target audience, but I enjoyed Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, so approached the film with an open mind. It struck me early on that this in fact isn't a movie for gamers, but for fans of pop culture. Barely thirty seconds go by without a recognisable character, vehicle or weapon gracing the screen. You could watch Ready Player One a hundred times and still miss something.

It's 2044 and many of the planet's great cities have turned into slums, with much of the population crammed into small apartments stacked on top of one another. To relieve themselves of this miserable reality, most regularly escape into a virtual reality world called OASIS - created by genius and innovator James Halliday (Mark Rylance) - which allows the player to do pretty much whatever they want, be it climb a mountain with Batman or participate in huge battles without the fear of being hurt or killed. The recent death of Halliday was followed by the announcement that three hidden keys have been hidden somewhere in the game that will lead to an 'Easter Egg'. The one to find it will be handed full ownership of OASIS, and with it unimaginable power and wealth. One participant is Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), an orphaned 17 year-old who lives with his aunt and her bully of a boyfriend in a slum known as The Stacks. Every day he escapes the real world to take part in a seemingly unwinnable race to find the first key.

The sheer volume of pop culture references would normally distract from the story being told, but Spielberg maintains a grip on the action and lays out this new world and its many rules in a coherent manner. The novel by Ernest Cline (which I haven't read) was actually heavily inspired by Spielberg's movies, but aside from the appearance of Jurassic Park's T-Rex, Spielberg mostly avoids referencing himself. He is probably the best man for the job, especially when you consider how Spielberg's fantasy-based movies were so memorable because they kept at least one foot on the ground. Ironically, if there is a big criticism to be thrown at Ready Player One, it's that it struggles to engage when the action is outside of the OASIS, and only really comes to life when within the virtual world. Perhaps this is the point, but when the hero's ultimate quest is to save the real world from falling under the control of an evil corporation named Innovative Online Industries and its slimy CEO Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn), it becomes difficult to truly grasp the stakes.

It's irresistible fun to be inside a world without limits, and the special effects department do an exceptional job of envisioning it. Each character can create their own avatar (Wade turns himself into a dashing hipster named Parzival), and purchase weapons and gadgets famous from pop culture. One character is even building an Iron Giant. Wade falls for a manga-eyed rebel named Art3mis (Olivia Cooke) who, as his best friend is keen to point out, could be a fat guy in his mother's basement for all he knows. He frets over what outfit to wear for their date, changing from Michael Jackson to Duran Duran before settling on Buckaroo Banzai. Spielberg has fun playing around with these elements, and it's all scarily believable. But Ready Player One isn't concerned with exploring the psychological and social consequences of such a widespread and immersive gaming experience, and asks that you simply enjoy the ride. And this is perfectly fine, since the ride is thoroughly entertaining. You will likely find yourself urging the movie to go deeper, but by the time Mechagodzilla arrives to battle an army that includes the likes of Bowser, Duke Nukem and Superman, you'll be too busy swimming in Nerd-vana to care.


Directed by: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Tye Sheridan, Olivia Cooke, Ben Mendelsohn, Lena Waithe, T.J. Miller, Simon Pegg, Mark Rylance, Hannah John-Kamen
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,361: 'Sherlock Jr.' (1924)

Whenever conversation happens to turn to the topic of silent comedy, it isn't long until Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd or Buster Keaton are mentioned. The likes of Fatty Arbuckle and Laurel and Hardy get honourable mentions, but Chaplin, Lloyd and Keaton form a Holy Trinity, completely untouchable when it comes to their bodies of work. Debate rages on about who was the best: Chaplin had the heart, Lloyd delivered the thrills, and Keaton was a pure innovator, and not only for the comedy genre, but for cinema as a whole. The Kid and Safety Last! are two of the finest examples, but has there ever been a more jaw-dropping silent comedy than Keaton's Sherlock Jr., both in terms of laughs and sheer invention? I think not, and even at just 45 minutes, Sherlock Jr. is still one of the funniest movies ever made, and manages to squeeze more jokes, stunts and ground-breaking cinematic trickery than most feature-length movies could ever dream of.

A hapless theatre projectionist and janitor (played by Keaton) dreams about being a great detective, studying the topic in between sweeping floors and finding customer's lost dollars. He also has a sweetheart (Kathryn McGuire), who he buys a $1 box of chocolates on his way to visit her, changing the price tag to $4 in a bid to impress her. But he has a rival in his quest for the girl's affections, a dodgy and dapper character known as 'the local sheik', played by Ward Crane. We meet the sheik as he is pawning a pocket watch for $4, which he stole from the girl's father, and purchases a $3 box of chocolates in a bid to win the girl's love and steal her from the poor projectionist. When the father (Buster's dad Joe Keaton) notices the watch is missing, the sheik slips the pawn ticket into the projectionist's pocket, framing him for the crime. After his detective skills backfire and he is banished from the girl's home, the dismayed projectionist returns to his work and falls asleep as the movie Hearts and Pearls plays.

The rest of the movie takes place within the projectionist's dream, where he fantasises about being the world's greatest detective, Sherlock Jr. At first it seems like a strange direction to take the story, but moving the action into the realm of fantasy allows Keaton to test the limits of what could be done with a camera back in 1924. He leaps into the screen as the audience watches on, using expert framing and cutting techniques to place the character into a number of perilous situations. One moment he is on a cliff's edge, the next he is surrounded by a pack of hungry lions. From then on, Sherlock Jr. simply doesn't let up, delivering a carousel of genuinely dangerous stunt work and hilarious sight gags. A personal favourite of mine is the game of billiards, during which Keaton pulls of a number of extraordinary tricks shots with the added excitement of knowing that one of the balls is actually a cleverly-disguised bomb. Unbelievably, critics panned it upon its release, labelling it as unfunny and strange. Nearly 100 years later, it is recognised as one of the most innovative films of its day, and rightly so.


Directed by: Buster Keaton
Starring: Buster Keaton, Kathryn McGuire, Ward Crane, Joe Keaton
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,360: 'A Quiet Place' (2018)

Looking at his page on IMDb, former star of the American version of The Office John Krasinski has previously directed two features, neither of which I have seen or even heard of. It would seem like the third time's a charm, as his latest, the riveting horror A Quiet Place, is just about as accomplished and tightly-directed as you would expect from any seasoned veteran. Teaming up to co-star with his real-life wife Emily Blunt, Krasinski has crafted one of the most memorable and genuinely scary horror movies in recent memory, and one of the biggest sleeper hits of 2018. Taking place in the now-familiar territory of a post-apocalyptic landscape, A Quiet Place shares more in common tonally with John Hillcoat's The Road than, say, George Miller's Mad Max: Fury Road.

It's the near-future and it's apparent that great misfortune has fallen upon the Earth's inhabitants. The Abbot family, consisting of father Lee (Krasinski), mother Evelyn (Blunt), and their three children Regan (Millicent Simmonds), Marcus (Noah Jupe) and youngest Beau (Cade Woodward), are trying desperately to survive, foraging for supplies, food and whatever else that may prove useful in an abandoned library. On their journey home, an accident occurs which devastates the family and reveals to us precisely what has befallen our planet, and why the Abbot's were so keen to make as little noise as possible. They are surrounded by spider-legged creatures with the strength to break through steel with ease and the speed to reach its intended victim in a split second. The hideous creatures are completely blind, but have hearing so powerful that they are able to pin-point a sound with uncanny accuracy, and reach the source with lightning speed.

After this mood-setting opening scene, we wisely jump forward in time over a year. The Abbots have seemingly taken every precaution imaginable: they walk barefoot on sand-covered floors, eat their meals from leave rather than breakable plates, and only communicate with sign-language. Krasinski, along with co-writers Bryan Woods and Scott Beck, have fun with laying out traps and red-herrings for their characters to possibly fall prey of, like an exposed nail near the bottom of a flight of wooden stairs, or the fact that Evelyn is heavily pregnant. But it's careful not to fall into the traps of genre cliche and predictability, as the Abbots are apparently a step ahead of their tormentors. Lee spends his spare time tracking the creatures' paths and calculating their numbers, as well searching for a way to possibly kill them. He also tries to build a working hearing aid for his deaf daughter, after many failed attempts. With Regan also feeling responsible for the tragedy at the film's opening, her relationship with her father is strained.

A Quiet Place is as much about both the fragility and strength of the family unit as it is about unseen monsters in the dark. Krasinski and Blunt themselves have children together, and no doubt fed their own experiences, fears and difficulties into their characters, albeit placing them in a more extreme and hostile environment. This also helps us to connect with the characters, fearing for their safety when that inevitable damning sound is made, and feeling genuine concern at the idea of a parent failing to protect their child. The action is intensified, and A Quiet Place really earns it scares. Every movement is a jump-shock waiting to happen, but it's scary for the build-up and the knowledge of what comes after. The performances are great all round, with Millicent Simmonds - who is deaf in real life - making a real impact, surely cementing her status as one of the most promising young actors around. Krasinski has a done an impressive job of dodging being known forever as the guy from The Office and proving himself to be a strong dramatic actor, but he'll be best remembered here for his skills behind the camera. A Quiet Place turns what could have been a routine jump-shocker into an unbearably tense 90 minutes with a real beating heart.


Directed by: John Krasinski
Starring: Emily Blunt, John Krasinski, Millicent Simmonds, Noah Jupe, Cade Woodward
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,359: 'Moulin Rouge' (1928)

Paris's iconic Moulin Rouge has proved an inspiration to many filmmakers down the years, including the likes of Jean Renoir, Baz Luhrmann and Woody Allen, who were all clearly fascinated by the venue's vibrant cabaret act and reputation as the home of the modern can-can. You would have to go all the way back to 1928 to witness one of cinema's earliest (if not the earliest) brush with the Moulin Rouge, although the scenes of the dancing girls bare little resemblance to the famous hangout. German-born director Ewald Andre Dupont made films in both Hollywood and London, and is perhaps best known for Variete and Piccadilly, but he also made this little-seen melodrama, filmed at Elstreet Studios, in 1928.

The star attraction at the city's most popular hangout is undoubtedly Parysia (Olga Tschechowa), a striking lady who performs to an adoring crowd on a nightly basis, dazzling the audience with songs, dances and shakes of her feathers. She is over the moon when she receives a letter from her daughter Margaret (Eve Gray) announcing her pending arrival. Parysia hasn't seen her child for a few years since she left for boarding school, and she's all grown up with a new man at her side. That man is Andre (Jean Bradin), who believes that he's met the perfect partner until he witnesses his future mother-in-law's stage performance for the first time. Andre falls in love, and declares his feelings to the shocked Parysia, who is determined to see her daughter happy by setting off to persuade Andre's stern, rich father than Margaret is worthy, despite his distaste for the goings-on at the Moulin Rouge.

Dupont's forgotten silent is a strange beast. It is essentially a rather relentless melodrama with little insight into human behaviour, which climaxes with a breathtaking high-speed car chase that would put many modern-day blockbusters to shame. At the film's centre is the odd love triangle between mother, daughter and a handsome charmer, but Dupont ignores the fact that Parysia would realistically want her offspring as far away from this letch as soon as possible once he declares his undying love for the mother of his fiancee. For a movie entitled Moulin Rouge, there's very little of what the venue is best known for, aside from a bit of uncomfortable black-face. From a technical standpoint, it is absolutely wonderful, with the director making full use of his leading star with close-ups and effective camera movements. Tschechowa is a legend of silent cinema, and it isn't difficult to understand why she was courted by the likes of Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin. For the most part, this is pretty dull stuff, but the climax will leave you breathless and hugely impressed.


Directed by: Ewald André Dupont
Starring: Olga Tschechowa, Eve Gray, Jean Bradin, Georges Tréville
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,358: 'Letter to Brezhnev' (1985)

Written by Frank Clarke and directed by Chris Bernard, both Liverpudlians, Letter to Brezhnev tells its story in Thatcher-era Liverpool, where the only options in this grey city were the dole or dead-end factory jobs. It was a modest hit back in 1985, attracting international interest, but has since been oddly forgotten when compared to other social realist films from Britain around the same time. Those who do remember the film often refer to it as a romantic comedy, and it is of sorts, but Letter to Brezhnev is really more of a romantic drama, with some surprising political undercurrents. It's a very simple premise: two bored, fun-seeking young women hit the town and hook up with two dashing Russian sailors, with one couple falling deeply in love. But this relatable tale struck a chord with its fans, particularly for those who grew up during this particularly bleak time for Britain.

Boisterous blonde Teresa (Margi Clarke) earns her keep at a local factory, where she spends most of the day with her hand up a chicken's backside. She works hard during the day, so at night she seeks alcohol, men, and cheap thrills, including stealing the wallet of a potential partner and legging it. Her best friend Elaine (Alexandra Pigg) however, is looking for love, and feels something special when she catches the eye of handsome sailor Peter (Peter Firth). Peter is a Russian sailor who has docked for the night, and along with his friend Sergei (Alfred Molina), hopes for a taste of the famous Liverpool nightlife. Teresa takes an instant liking to Sergei's hulking physique, while Elaine and Peter form a deeper connection. After a wonderful night, the Russians sail back to the Soviet Union the next day. Elaine cannot get Peter out of her head, and with political tensions between Russia and Britain brewing, she writes a letter to Leonid Brezhnev, pleading for information on her lost love. She receives a plane ticket in return, but her family and the British government won't let her go without a fight.

Letter to Brezhnev was made on an incredibly tight budget, which Bernard often struggles to hide. The direction is flat and the camerawork occasionally amateurish, and the colour of the picture resembles the slightly degraded photographs of myself as a baby from the same year. Yet these restraints also increase the film's appeal as a time capsule, and anybody who enjoys seeing the Britain of the past on film as much as I do, will likely be fascinated. Although Firth and Molina receive top billing, somewhat unfairly, Letter to Brezhnev belong to the leading ladies. Clarke in particular finds multiple layers in what could have been a stock best friend character. She boasts having a "degree in men" and will never turn down a free drink, but there's a subtle sadness to her beaming smile and her acceptance of a life destined for routine. A pre-Prick Up Your Ears Alfred Molina also makes the most of a relatively small role that only requires a few mumbled lines in Russian, and he has the uncanny ability of saying as much with his eyes as he could with words. Funny and touching (and also a secret gay movie), Letter to Brezhnev is a beautiful story of love during times of hardship.


Directed by: Chris Bernard
Starring: Alexandra Pigg, Margi Clarke, Peter Firth, Alfred Molina
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie