Review #1,245: 'Alien: Resurrection' (1997)

Despite plummeting into a fiery furnace while carrying an unborn alien queen inside of her at the climax of David Fincher's messy-but-interesting Alien 3, Fox saw more money to be made in carrying on the franchise started by Ridley Scott back in 1979. For the fourth instalment, French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet, hot off the success of The City of Lost Children, was brought in to inject some life in the stuttering series, bringing a unique aesthetic to the ongoing battle between us puny humans and the superior xenomorph. Sadly, this unique aesthetic is muted and ugly, perhaps even more so than the incredibly miserable Alien 3, and the European sense of humour and quirkiness Jeunet also brings to the table doesn't quite fit the tone of the Alien series. If this was a stand-alone, unconnected genre movie, Alien Resurrection may now be fondly remembered as an offbeat, cyberpunk oddity.

It's 200 years since Sigourney Weaver's Ellen Ripley sacrificed herself to finally rid the universe of the xenomorphs, but humanity's stupidity apparently hasn't wavered in that time. Ripley is cloned by some mad scientists from a single drop of blood, for the sole purpose of removing the queen inside of her (how the queen got inside her from the cloning process isn't quite explained), and turning its offspring into weapons and/or subjects of experimentation. She tells them, "she will breed, you will die," but naturally this falls on deaf ears. As the inevitable happens and the aliens free themselves from their cells, Ripley falls in with a rag-tag group of mercenaries. But Ripley is different; she can smell nearby aliens and seems to possess super-strength, and when she receives a jab to the face, her blood burns through the spaceship's floor. She clearly shares a bond and possibly DNA with her 'children', and the grizzled space pirates don't know whether they should trust her.

Alien Resurrection is the worst of the franchise for two reasons. One is that the film is so damn ugly. Aside from the wonderfully weird moment in which Ripley writhes in the slimy tentacles of her 'daughter', there isn't one shot that feels truly cinematic. The sets look expensive, certainly, but there's a TV-quality running throughout, backed-up by a pre-Buffy the Vampire Slayer show Joss Whedon script, which often feels like a precursor to the wonderful Firefly. The second is the casting of Winona Ryder as daughter-figure Call. Ryder is a terrific actress, but every line she utters here is without conviction. She stands out like a sore thumb when sharing scenes with such reliable character actors as Ron Perlman, Michael Wincott, Dominique Pinon, Dan Hedaya and Brad Dourif. Jeunet amps up the gore factor, which is something the Alien series was never about, and neglects suspense and terror in the process. The climax is weird and disgusting, and may have been delightfully bonkers if this was unshackled by a franchise tag and was the director's way of letting loose with a generous budget. But this isn't the Alien I know and love.


Directed by: Jean-Pierre Jeunet
Starring: Sigourney Weaver, Winona Ryder, Dominique Pinon, Ron Perlman, Gary Dourdan, Michael Wincott, J.E. Freeman, Brad Dourif, Dan Hedaya
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,224: 'Kundun' (1997)

Kundun, Martin Scorsese's beautifully realised story of the Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, is possibly his most divisive amongst fans. Directed by the guy whose specialities are wiseguys in sharp suits and dazzling camerawork, Kundun is a remarkably subdued tale. Scorsese had tackled religion before with the controversial The Last Temptation of Christ, but his version of the story of Jesus also came with a recognisable edge. Yet even his roughest and toughest movies come with a sense of spirituality - Mean Streets in particular - and Kundun has this in abundance, so Scorsese isn't exactly far from safe ground. Spirituality is woven into the movie's very fabric, as is the idea of watching a ready-made saint in action.

A saint is precisely how Scorsese views the Dalai Lama, and Melissa Mathison's script paints him like a key religious figure whose teachings can now only be read in scripture. As of 2017, Gyatso is still alive and reigning, although the film begins in 1937. This almost mythical presence does work in the context of Buddhism however, as if their beliefs in reincarnation are true, then Gyatso is just another body containing a soul hundreds of years old. As a young boy (played by Tenzin Yeshi Paichang at 2 years old), he is shown various objects, some of which belonged to the previous Dalai Lama, by some Tibetan monks. He chooses correctly, and is taken away to lead, but as to whether this was the expression on the monks face as he fondled the items or genuine reincarnation, Scorsese lets you ponder. He grows old and wiser, and faces difficult decisions as Imperial China invade to claim Tibet as their own.

This is undoubtedly Scorsese's most beautiful picture, and he takes his time to admire the lavish golds and reds of the ceremonial robes, as well as the intricate creation of Bhavachakra and its inevitable destruction, all backed by Philip Glass' haunting score. The decadence comes at a price however, as although we spend near enough the entire screen time with the Dalai Lama, we learn little about Gyatso. He must suffer his decisions in relative silence, or in hushed utterances to his trusted council. The refusal to follow a traditional narrative makes for a slow-moving if never boring movie, with the drama punctured by a powerful sequence depicting Gyatso standing in a sea of slaughtered monks. While it may leaving us questioning who this man truly was, I can only admire Scorsese's insistence on making the movie he wanted to make. Movies like Kundun are the reason why the director will always be remembered as a true master of his craft.


Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Tenzin Thuthob Tsarong , Gyurme Tethong, Tulku Jamyang Kunga Tenzin, Tenzin Yeshi Paichang
Country: USA/Monaco

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #981: 'Boogie Nights' (1997)

I must have watched writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson's Boogie Nights over thirty times in my life. Around 1999, it represented cinematic perfection to me and I would view it repeatedly. Now almost 20 years old - although I no longer consider it as the pinnacle of cinema - I still consider it great and to be one of the best movies of the 90's. This is mainly down to how fresh is still feels, with its show-off yet breathtaking long-takes, moments of off-the-wall humour, and dead-on depictions of the decadent 70's through to the over-indulgent 80's, which all assist the film in sweeping you into its hidden world of glamour, sex and drugs.

That world is the world of pornography, though through Anderson's lens it doesn't feel too dissimilar to Hollywood itself, just on a smaller scale. The young, handsome and unnervingly well-endowed Eddie Adams (Mark Wahlberg) is working in the kitchen of a Hollywood nightclub when he is talent spotted by porno auteur Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds). Jack knows that "there is something special behind those jeans just waiting to get out," and soon enough Eddie has renamed himself Dirk Diggler and is the hottest porn star in the country. With success comes the big house, the designer clothes and the fancy sports car, but also lots of cocaine.

Clearly inspired by the work of Robert Altman, Boogie Nights boasts a fantastic ensemble of interesting characters, all hugely endearing despite their obvious flaws. Jack lives with porn star Amber Waves (Julianne Moore), who doesn't get to see her son due to her lavish lifestyle, and Rollergirl (Heather Graham), another actress fresh out of school who never takes her skates off. Dirk buddies up with Reed Rothchild (John C. Reilly), an aspiring magician who idolises his enigmatic co-star. Behind the camera are Little Bill (William H. Macy), the timid scriptwriter whose wife (played by real-life porn star Nina Hartley) openly sleeps with other men, and Scottie (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who becomes smitten with Dirk. There's also Buck (Don Cheadle), a stereo-system obsessive going through an image crisis.

Anderson was only 26 when the film was released, hot off the disappointingly pedestrian Hard Eight (1996), and yet despite his youth he pulled of something remarkably complex with Boogie Nights. Not only is it a peek behind the curtain of a business normally portrayed as sleazy and distasteful, seen through the eyes of those who operate it, but also a summary of the shift in social attitudes and values at the time, from feelings of optimism and sexual expression of the 70's, to the greed and paranoia of the 80's. As Dirk's drug consumption spirals out of control, he struggles to perform and falls out with Jack. One standout scene near the final act sees Dirk, Reid and moustachioed sleazeball Todd Parker (Thomas Jane) attempt to pull off a drug deal with a friendly but unhinged Alfred Molina.

It's during this scene that Anderson lingers on Dirk's face for a considerable amount of time. Although it probably only lasts about 25 seconds, it manages to pin-point his moment of realisation while allowing the audience time to some up their feelings towards him. And most probably, despite his horrible and selfish actions, you'll still hope it turns out well for him. The camera plays like a character sometimes, whether it be swooping in and out of a pool in one of the many homages to Martin Scorsese, or lingering on producer Colonel James's (Robert Ridgely) startled face as he sees Dirk's prize asset for the first time. Anderson would go on to prove himself one of the finest of his generation with Magnolia (1999), There Will Be Blood (2007) and The Master (2012), but Boogie Nights is still one of his best - dazzling, funny, and uniquely absorbing.


Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Burt Reynolds, Julianne Moore, John C. Reilly, Heather Graham, Don Cheadle, William H. Macy, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ricky Jay
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #946: 'L.A. Confidential' (1997)

Curtis Hanson's L.A. Confidential is a now long-established movie classic, regularly featuring in the various Top 100 lists drummed up by magazines and websites. But despite the impeccable performances from the film's three leads and writers Hanson and Brian Hengeland's firm grip on the labyrinthine plot, something about the film has never quite sat right with me. Don't get me wrong, I still think this is fantastic cinema and I've adored the few James Ellroy novels I've read (L.A. Confidential is adapted from the third book of his 'L.A. Quartet'), but some corny dialogue and flat cinematography weigh down what is ultimately an absorbing character piece.

There are a million stories in the city and it is the job of Sid Hudgens (Danny DeVito), the editor of trashy magazine Hush-Hush, to find them. Celebrity cop Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) works on the side as 'technical advisor' for cop show Badge of Honor and is paid by Hudgens to bust celebrities in all sorts of compromising situations. It's Christmas, and Bud White (Russell Crowe) is buying liquor for the station when he stops by a house and beats on a man for doing the same to his wife. At the station, ambitious young cop Ed Exley (Guy Pearce) is determined to live up to his father's reputation and refuses to be drawn in to the various exploits of his corrupt colleagues. When a group of Mexicans are brought in for assaulting two officers, the drunken officers assault them and the story hits the newspapers.

It's difficult to summarise the plot as the film is always moving forward, putting many pieces into play to the point where you struggle to figure out how it will all link together. The main crux of the film lies with a massacre at a diner called the Nite Owl, where many are killed along with White's ex-partner Dick Stensland (Graham Beckel) and a girl White met at Christmas. She looked beaten up, but Lynn Bracken (Kim Basinger) assured him it wasn't what he thought. Also, with her at Christmas was Pierce Patchett (David Strathairn), a millionaire who runs an agency of hookers made to look like movie stars by plastic surgery. After the incident with the Mexicans, Exley becomes despised by his colleagues for testifying against those involved, particularly angering White after Stensland was shown the door, and forcing Vincennes to testify by threatening his work on Badge of Honor.

Acting out almost like vignettes, the various pieces of the puzzle stay apart for the majority of the film, and it's difficult to figure out what the plot actually is. But the way all these elements ingeniously blend together at the end is the film's main strength. Somehow, Hanson also manages to retain his grasp on the film's trio of complex leads, who are all heavily conflicted and psychologically scarred in some manner. Even Exley, who is a determined straight-arrow, concludes that circumstances often call for one's dark side to be embraced. It's a film noir more invested in the driving force at the core of its central characters than any crime committed, and a crime story more focused on the politicking of the higher-ups and the corruption that comes with it. Despite the occasional wobble, L.A. Confidential is still thrilling cinema 18 years on.


Directed by: Curtis Hanson
Starring: Guy Pearce, Russell Crowe, Kevin Spacey, James Cromwell, Kim Basinger, Danny DeVito, David Strathairn
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #935: 'The Lost World: Jurassic Park' (1997)

My main memory of seeing Steven Spielberg's sequel to his 1993 mega-hit Jurassic Park is leaving the cinema with one of the worst migraines I've ever suffered. My head pounded so hard that I couldn't even eat my caramel sundae purchased from the drive-thru McDonalds on the route home. Seeing it again all these years later I approached the film with a clear head and a box of painkillers on hand as a precaution. But as the credits rolled after an exhausting 129 minutes, I found myself in pain yet again. Not pain of the physical kind, but the dull emotional pain of sitting through a pretty bad movie. The Lost World's aim is to make everything bigger and better, and while the dinosaurs are certainly more technically impressive this time, there is little of the original's magic here.

A few years after the incident on Isla Nublar, the InGen corporation are being hit with lawsuit after lawsuit, and former CEO John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) is now a naturalist who has seen the error of his ways. When Hammond's slimy nephew (Arliss Howard) takes over the business, he plans to bring the dinosaurs back to the mainland and make them a sideshow attraction. Dr. Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) is asked by Hammond to visit Isla Sorna, or "site B" - a breeding island where the dinosaurs roamed free - to document the dinosaurs in order to gather support for the island to be left to its own devices by humans. He initially declines, but then has a change of heart when he learns that his palaeontologist girlfriend Sarah Harding (Julianne Moore) is already there.

Everything is certainly on a larger scale here than its predecessor. Instead of one tyrannosaurus rex we get two and a baby, and there's a whole pack of velociraptors for the group to contend with. Shortly after Malcolm arrives, he and his crew are joined by the Hammond nephew, who brings along a small army and bad-ass hunter Roland Tembo (Pete Postlethwaite), the latter of whom simply wants a shot at taking down a T-Rex as payment for his services. Unfortunately, Malcolm's estranged daughter Kelly (Vanessa Lee Chester) - a character taken straight out of Cinema's Guide to Annoying Children - also sneaks along for the ride, so we get to suffer through sentimental moments of learning the importance of family. The stand-out scene, which sees the characters attacked by the angry T-Rex's near the edge of a cliff, happens because Sarah takes their baby to bandage a wound. It turns out the dinosaurs value family too.

The fact that Sarah, an expert in her field, would even try to take care of a baby T-Rex demonstrates how stupid these characters are required to be in order for the film to deliver a set-piece. When you know there are huge, angry monsters out there, why would you park your trailer next to a cliff-edge anyway? So concerned is the film with entertaining its audience, Spielberg and writer David Koepp seem to have forgotten that a scene also requires a degree of logic to truly work. Most of the action falls flat, which is surprising given the talent for the genre previously demonstrated by its director, and it culminates in an unnecessary T-Rex rampage around San Diego. It isn't all bad - the dinosaurs are as wonderful and terrifying as ever and the late Postlethwaite is a fantastically conflicted antagonist - but there's a noticeable lack of heart and effort here.


Directed by: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Jeff Goldblum, Julianne Moore, Pete Postlethwaite, Arliss Howard, Richard Attenborough, Vince Vaughn
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

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

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

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

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

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


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

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #771: 'Nil by Mouth' (1997)

When we are introduced to the various foul-mouthed, chain-smoking, poverty-stricken characters in Gary Oldman's one and only directorial credit, Nil By Mouth, they are gathered in a working club telling stories about people and events we are not privy to. Any establishing character introductions would betray the authenticity of Oldman's searing drama. These are real people, or seem like they are, so we get to endure their mundane and often repulsive conversations as if we've known them for years. And it feels like we have. The product of their social class means they're stuck in their routines; the men indulging in coke-fuelled benders, and the women are just happy to be out of the house.

Dedicated to his father, Nil by Mouth is clearly autobiographical, or at least based on Oldman's experiences growing up in a council flat in South East London. Focusing essentially on three main characters - Ray (Ray Winstone), a booze-addled, violent abuser, Valerie (Kathy Burke), his bullied and terrorised wife, and Valerie's brother Billy (Charlie Creed-Miles), a young heroin-addict relying on his mother Janet (Laila Morse) to fund his habit - the film doesn't really tell a clear-cut story, but instead immerses you in it's environment. Dialogue is fast, naturalistic and often hard to follow, and long scenes often do little other than force you to listen to these people's everyday ramblings.

Anyone looking for a pleasant experience may do better to look elsewhere, as no punches are pulled. Plenty are thrown, however, as Ray's jealousy over a man he sees Valerie playing pool with - innocently - erupts into a horrific scene of domestic violence. Even more heartbreaking is the next scene, as her mother sees her daughter's battered face for the first time and must listen to her cover story, being fully aware of Ray's violence tendencies. Laila Morse (an anagram of the Italian phrase for 'my sister') is Gary Oldman's sister, and although she had no formal acting experience before the film, she may just be the best thing in it. Her expression of helplessness at the sight of her son shooting up in the back of her van is incredibly powerful.

As the film goes on, we do eventually learn more about these characters. Ray may be the clear-cut monster on the surface, but there is some sympathy to be had. In a scene following a particularly self-destructive bender, Ray explains to his friend Mark (Jamie Foreman) that he had no love from his father. Beneath the bulldog exterior lies a rather pathetic and self-pitying man, unable to communicate anything to his wife to the point where they seem to exist in different rooms in their cramped flat. Not since John Cassavetes has a film so successfully portrayed the tragedy of male machismo. With Eric Clapton's wonderfully bluesy score blaring throughout, the film is drenched in atmosphere while maintaining the sense of reality. It's by no means an easy watch, but Nil by Mouth is cinema at it's most raw.


Directed by: Gary Oldman
Starring: Ray Winstone, Kathy Burke, Charlie Creed-Miles, Laila Morse, Jamie Foreman
Country: UK/France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #555: 'Sick: The Life & Death of Bob Flanagan, Supermasochist' (1997)

Rarely is there a movie that can in equal measures make you want to cry and embrace the power of love, while at the same time reach for the sick bag. Yet Sick, Kirby Dick's powerful documentary of sadomasochistic performance artist and poet Bob Flanagan, achieves this to a quite startling effect, taking us through his art career, his often bizarre sexual practices, his relationship with partner/dominator Sheree Rose, and his battle with cystic fibrosis. Dick juxtaposes Flanagan's lust for pain and humiliation alongside his crippling disease, which often left him hospitalised for days on end, and what eventually killed him.

Personally, I'm all for people doing whatever makes them tick (as long as it's legal), and if someone gets turned on by someone inserting a large silver ball up their arse, then crack on. But for us with 'normal' sexual preferences, sadomasochism can seem a strange act, especially for someone suffering from an incurable disease. What is remarkable about Sick is the sensitivity in which Dick handles the subject, never patronising and mis-portraying Flanagan, yet showing his acts for what they are - squirm-inducing, but undeniably fascinating - and above all else, it is clearly a tower of strength for Flanagan, a way to control his body while his disease slowly destroys it.

Admittedly, his somewhat simplistic art left a lot to be desired, but it is in his writing where he comes alive. Seen in archive clips playing guitar and singing, Flanagan is so endearing due to his sense of humour. He knows the world saw him as a freak, but he embraced it, turned it into art, and is still one of the longest-living sufferers of CF. But beneath all the chains, scars and piercings lay a warm human being, and as his disease overwhelms him, we have to witness his slow death in front of his partner Sheree. The 'Hammer of Love' scene, in which Flanagan hammers a nail into the end of his penis, will have you covering your eyes in horror, but it is Bob's final moments that will linger in the memory as he stares up at his love, taking his harsh, final breaths. Simply amazing, heart-breaking documentary film-making.


Directed by: Kirby Dick
Starring: Bob Flanagan, Sheree Rose
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #359: 'Wilde' (1997)

Every now and then in cinema, a performance comes along that seems so right and so fitting, that it is almost as if  the actor was born to play the role. Robert DeNiro as Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver (1976), Max Schreck in Nosferatu (1922) or Ray Milland in The Lost Weekend (1945) are examples of career-defining performances, where you couldn't imagine any other actor filling the role. Okay, so Stephen Fry's performance here as the tragic poet, author and social rebel Oscar Wilde is hardly the greatest performance ever, but it seems that no other actor could capture the authenticity of his performance. Fry is a well-known author, intellectual and mostly comedic actor, with a deep-rooted love for literature and history. He is also homosexual with a history of depression and feelings of social misplacement, much like Wilde himself.

Brian Gilbert's film follows Wilde from his early marriage to Constance Wilde (Jennifer Ehle), which produced two children, until his sexual awakening with lifelong friend Robbie Ross (Michael Sheen). He describes his awakening as "being like a city under siege for years, and then the floodgates are opened". He has massive success with his only novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, and his social comedy The Importance of Being Earnest, when he meets his true love Lord Alfred 'Bosie' Douglas (Jude Law), a spoiled youth living under the tyrannical reign of his father, the Marquess of Queensbury (Tom Wilkinson). The Marquess' disapproval of the 'friendship' between his son and the well-known provocateur leads to a libel court case, which sees Wilde imprisoned for social indecency.

Unlike many biopics, Gilbert wisely chooses to stay away from detailing his work, and instead keeps the focus on the man himself. This allows the film to explore the mind of the subject, and a complex and vastly intelligent mind it is. The main focus though is of the social attitudes towards homosexuality (especially the relationship between an older and a younger man) and the prudishness towards the idea of following pleasure rather than duty. Wilde states in the court case that he is championing the ancients, the Greeks, and this now-taboo relationship was the focus of many a celebrated academic, namely Plato, who used it as a focal point of one of his key philosophy works. Society, it would seem, had gone back in time.

There are many great performances here from a hugely talented British cast (which also includes Vanessa Redgrave, Ioan Gruffudd and Zoe Wanamaker), namely from the always-excellent Sheen. He is now established as a great impressionist (his performances as Kenneth Williams and David Frost are near-perfection), but here he is stripped-down and gives his best performance as the dedicated Robbie Ross, a man who is in love with Wilde but remains loyal despite the love not being returned. But ultimately, this is Fry's film. Years of seeing him as quizmaster in panel show QI has made me forget what a talented performer he is. If ever there was an argument made of re-incarnation, then there is no finer example than here. Apart from an uncanny resemblance, he seems to embody the very soul of Wilde.


Directed by: Brian Gilbert
Starring: Stephen Fry, Jude Law, Michael Sheen, Jennifer Ehle, Vanessa Redgrave, Tom Wilkinson
Country: UK/Germany/Japan

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #345: 'Princess Mononoke' (1997)

When his village is attacked by a giant boar demon, Ashitaka (voiced by Billy Crudup) kills it, and receives a cursed arm in return. Upon learning that the curse will torture and ultimately kill him, he sets out West in search of a cure from the forest spirit, only to get caught up in an ongoing battle between Lady Eboshi (Minnie Driver) of Iron Town who is slowly destroying the forest with her iron mining, and San (Claire Danes), a human who has been raised by wolves. Ashitaka sees no way of their being a clear victor, and sets out to arrange some kind of truce, but wandering monk Jigo (Billy Bob Thornton) is employing Eboshi to help him get the head of the forest spirit.

Studio Ghibli was long established in its native Japan when this film was released in 1997, with critical hits such as the deeply upsetting masterpiece Grave of the Fireflies (1988), and commercially successful action and children's films like My Neighbor Totoro (1988 - in my opinion, one of the best children's films ever made) and Kiki's Delivery Service (1989). But Princess Mononoke was the film that was meant to break the global, and more importantly, the U.S. market. It was a critical smash, but was only released in selected theatres and Ghibli only remained a favourite with Japanophiles and art-lovers. It wasn't until Spirited Away (2001) won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature four years later that people started to sit up and take notice.

As brilliant as Spirited Away is, Mononoke is just as good, if not better. Director Hayao Miyazaki had been planning the project for years, and had a multi-layered epic complete with fantasy, history and war in mind. What came out of it is indeed epic both in scale and in ambition, with a deep and detailed mythology to boot. The film is also surprisingly violent for it's PG rating - heads are lopped off with arrows, and a samurai's arms are both ripped off and pinned to a tree. But it needs to be, as Miyazaki is showing us the brutality of nature and the darkness of mankind, highlighting a wider message about man's terrible treatment of all things natural.

But the film is not just a poem to tree-huggers, it's also a quite exceptional action film, with some exquisite animation (a blend of hand-drawings and computer effects). The attack by the wolves on the workers of Iron Town is as good as anything I've seen in live-action fantasy, as men tumble off the cliff to their deaths and Eboshi lets loose with her rifle. And, going back to the animation, there's some inspired moments here, namely in the strange tree-spirits that are both cute and quite unnerving, and the night-walker, a kind of giant jellyfish in the shape of a man. Ghibli have made outstanding films with a mixture of genres, but Mononoke remains my personal favourite of Miyazaki's efforts, and can be enjoyed by children, a mainstream audience, art-house lovers, and stoners, and there's not many films out there capable of that.


Directed by: Hayao Miyazaki
Voices: Billy Crudup, Claire Danes, Minnie Driver, Billy Bob Thornton, Gillian Anderson
Country: Japan

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie