Review #1,451: 'Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance' (2002)

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance kicks off Korean director Chan-wook Park's unofficial 'Vengeance' trilogy, which continues with standout Oldboy, before concluding with the stylish Lady Vengeance. While the violence may seem like it's taken straight out of a movie by Quentin Tarantino or Eli Roth, Sympathy doesn't over-simplify this complex tale of revenge like, say, Kill Bill does, nor does it seem out of place as the intricate narrative spins further out of control and its characters resort to increasingly desperate measures. Park opted for a pulpier approach with the jaw-dropping Oldboy and a more lyrical, hyper-stylised aesthetic with Lady Vengeance, and while this may be down to dropping cinematographer Byeong-il Kim, the quiet realist bent of this trilogy-opener makes it the most accessible, and by far the most thought-provoking entry.

Deaf-mute factory worker Ryu (Ha-kyun Shin) has just been fired from his job. With his sister (Ji-Eun Lim) in desperate need of a kidney transplant and willing donors in short supply, Ryu takes all of his savings to a black market organ dealer gang who not only fail to deliver, but steal one of Ryu's kidneys too. With a donor now found by the hospital but no money to pay for it, Ryu and his radical anarchist girlfriend Yeong-mi (Doona Bae) concoct a plan to kidnap the daughter of rich company president Dong-Jin Park (Kang-ho Song). All seems to be going according to plan until Ryu's sister catches wind of the plot and kills herself, and things unravel quickly from there. Events lead Park to take matters into his own hands, stopping at nothing until he gets his hands on the couple brazen enough to take his daughter. But Ryu, who is down a sister and a kidney, is also on his own revenge mission to find and kill those responsible for setting him off on such a bloody and irredeemable path.

While most revenge thrillers attempt to hold a mirror to its hero and the carnage in their wake, the line between good and bad is drawn pretty clearly. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance attempts to muddy these lines as much as possible, to the point where any of the characters here could easily be fill the bad guy role in other movies. Ryu and Park are both fundamentally 'good', but are driven to gruesome extremes by emotions too complex to fit neatly into one category or the other. The violence here is shocking. Mostly its warranted, but sometimes the film veers into exploitative territory. An extended torture scene is cruel, and a moment depicting a group of masturbating teens is simply off-putting, although I feel it is meant to be comedic. But the extreme Asian films of the early 2000s were always trying to out-do whatever came before, and Park never allows the violence to become a gimmick or overshadow the themes at play. In the end, you'll be empathising with everybody while questioning their actions, and while it may not reach the dizzying, electrifying heights of Oldboy, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance makes for an engaging and fresh take on the ugly, cyclical nature of revenge.


Directed by: Chan-wook Park
Starring: Kang-ho Song, Ha-kyun Shin, Doona Bae, Ji-Eun Lim, Bo-bae Han
Country: South Korea

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,386: 'Auto Focus' (2002)

Based on Robert Graysmith's book The Murder of Bob Crane, Auto Focus is one of director Paul Schrader's finest works. Similar to the likes of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, which were written by Schrader, the film is a rather depressing yet insightful portrait of a man's oblivious decent into self-destruction, whose actions end up isolating everybody around them. Crane was best known for the successful sitcom Hogan's Heroes which, after getting past initial criticism for its World War II POW camp setting, made the former DJ into one of the most recognisable faces in America. On the surface, Crane was a clean-cut, church-going Republican, but his private life was laced with many sordid secrets, many of which only became public knowledge after he was bludgeoned to death in his bed in 1978.

Crane's fame attracted the attention of many women and hangers-on. The most notable of his new acquaintances was John Carpenter, here played by Willem Dafoe, the self-proclaimed technician to the stars who boasts of carrying out stereo installation work for the likes of Elvis Presley. Carpenter, or 'Carpy', was drawn to the ease with which the family man attracted the opposite sex, and Crane at first seems rather taken aback by all the females now throwing themselves at him. With Carpy's encouragement, Crane starts to indulge in a fantasy life, one full of alcohol, orgies and video cameras. He gets a taste for the life, and it soon begins to consume him. It never becomes clear whether the pair get a kick out of the sex itself, or recording it to watch back later. Their motto is "a day without sex is a day wasted," and Crane seeks it out at every opportunity, gaining a reputation amongst his peers despite warnings from his agent (Ron Leibman) that his actions may have a devastating effect on his career.

His career happened to nosedive once Hogan's Heroes ended anyway, but that didn't slow him down. Openly flaunting graphic photographs of his adventures to anybody who looks his way, Crane is the very definition of oblivious. He defends his hobby as perfectly normal, and the film suggests that he probably remained unaware of his casual creepiness up until the moment of his murder. As Crane, Greg Kinnear manages to bring a complexity and subtlety to the role despite the relative simplicity of the character, and his Hogan impression is spot-on. Seemingly always by his side, Carpenter is a sleazy, cloying and unnervingly clingy presence, and Willem Dafoe is precisely the man you would want in the role. Their friendship bristles with a strange homosexual tension, with Crane constantly talking down to his friend, becoming agitated when he spots Carpy's wandering hand while viewing one of their many orgies. Perhaps the saddest scene shows the two casually masturbating in front of each other without halting their everyday conversation, revealing a man whose addiction has completely engulfed him. It's a very sad story indeed, and it's all brought vividly to life by Schrader and his two stars.


Directed by: Paul Schrader
Starring: Greg Kinnear, Willem Dafoe, Rita Wilson, Maria Bello, Ron Leibman
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,356: 'Spider-Man' (2002)

While Bryan Singer's X-Men will always be remembered as the film that kicked off the superhero craze of the 2000s, it was Sam Raimi's Spider-Man that truly knocked it out of the park, both in terms of critical reaction to a genre often unfairly sneered at, and box-office returns. It broke the opening weekend record, surpassing that of the first Harry Potter film, going on to gross over $800 million worldwide. Every studio executive with the rights to a comic-book hero started to lick their lips, and the subsequent years was a mixed bag to say the least. For every X-Men 2 there was a Ghost Rider, and for every Batman Begins there was a Catwoman. Raimi's Spider-Man is still fondly remembered as one of the best during a frustrating time for comic-book fans, long before the Marvel Cinematic Universe raised the bar.

Nerdy young Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) lives in a New York suburb with his Aunt May (Rosemary Harris) and Uncle Ben (Cliff Robertson). Next door is the object of his affection, the beautiful, red-haired Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst), but she's currently the arm candy of resident douchebag Flash Thompson (Joe Manganiello). The only person he can call a friend is Harry (James Franco), the son of millionaire Oscorp founder Norman Osborn (Willem Dafoe). Peter seems content with his position at the bottom of the school popularity hierarchy, until a visit to Oscorp sees him bitten by a radioactive spider. The bite grants him the power of super strength, agility and reflexes, as well as the ability to scale walls and fire webbing out of his wrists. But when Norman experiments on himself with a performance-enhancing drug after learning he is be ousted by the company board, he goes insane and dons a green goblin suit, reeking havoc on the city and its new hero, Spider-Man.

Spider-Man is now 16 years old, and is quite remarkable how well it has aged. Naturally, the special effects are now nowhere near as seamless as they once were, but the sight of Spidey swinging through the streets of New York with Raimi's gliding camera behind him is still a sight to behold. The technical aspects aside, Spider-Man still holds up because it takes its time to develop the characters and their relationships. Peter is certainly a bit of a cry-baby, but Maguire shares great chemistry with Dunst, and there's certainly an argument in favour of their iconic upside-down kiss being the most romantic moment in comic-book movie history. However, the film undoubtedly belongs to Dafoe, who hams it up to such extremes that it's almost impossible not to root for him, despite the shoddiness of his costume. Richard Donner's Superman is obviously the crown jewels when it comes to superhero origin stories, but Spider-Man isn't that far behind, paving the way for little B-list heroes such as Tony Stark to announce himself to the world. And we all know how that went.


Directed by: Sam Raimi
Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, Willem Dafoe, James Franco, Rosemary Harris, Cliff Robertson, J.K. Simmons, Joe Manganiello
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,287: 'Punch-Drunk Love' (2002)

When asked what his next project would be following the success of his L.A. ensemble one-two of Boogie Nights and Magnolia, writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson responded that he would be making an Adam Sandler movie. He was met with a hearty chuckle by whoever was interviewing him, but little did they know that a comedy starring most people's - at least I would hope - least favourite comedy star was actually on the cards. Punch-Drunk Love ended up taking home the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival, but was undoubtedly Anderson's most divisive film. Surprisingly short and often incredibly weird, the film has garnered more and more respect and appreciation amongst fans and critics over the last 15 years, and many now even consider it to be the director's best work in a catalogue that includes the likes of There Will Be Blood and The Master.

Punch-Drunk Love revolves around Barry Egan (Sandler), a troubled and socially-awkward salesman of toilet plungers and various other novelty items. Forever bedecked in a blue suit and red tie combination, Barry tries to keep to himself while harbouring a hatred for his inability to be 'normal', but his seven hen-pecking and overbearing sisters are constantly trying to 'bring him out of his shell'. Whenever his sisters mention the way they treated him as a child, he responds in a fit of rage. A family party is brought to a swift end when he kicks through patio doors after being reminded of a particularly cruel childhood nickname. He finds solace in a harmonium he finds dumped outside his work's warehouse, and eventually in an English woman named Lena (Emily Watson) introduced to him by his sister Elizabeth (Mary Lynn Rajskub). They like each other straight away, but she travels a lot, so Barry starts to take full advantage of a marketing loop-hole that will grant him a lifetime of air miles through purchasing mass quantities of cheap pudding.

Anderson is apparently fond of Sandler's work, so he obviously sees something in the actor whose success has left many of us befuddled. Sandler typically plays the same person: The childish slacker who is a nice guy deep down, but prone to outbursts of rage. He plays very much the same here, only he is likeable and sympathetic, delivering his best performance to date. When he isn't smashing up a restaurant toilet or bruising his hand on his office wall, Sandler is remarkably subtle, mixing up his words in a nervous tic and struggling to meet people's gaze. In his loneliness, Barry phones a sex-line and ends up on the receiving end of a blackmail scheme run by scumbag mattress-store owner Dean (Philip Seymour Hoffman). It's all over the place in terms of plot, but Punch-Drunk Love is very much a character piece built around a troubled yet fascinating man finally finding love in the chaos of his life and his own mind. It's an acquired taste, but far more accessible than some of Anderson's later work, especially The Master and Inherent Vice. We probably all know a Barry but have likely kept our distance, but Punch-Drunk Love is brave enough to place him front and centre, lending a voice to the type of introvert misunderstood and viewed with suspicion by most.


Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Adam Sandler, Emily Watson, Luis Guzmán, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Mary Lynn Rajskub
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,266: 'We Were Soldiers' (2002)

After Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan reinvented the way the brutality and chaos of war was depicted on the cinema screen back in 1998, Hollywood went slightly nuts for all things World War II. At one point, it felt as though we were getting one every other week, and fatigue naturally kicked in, especially since none measured up to Spielberg's visual masterpiece (if very flawed film), other than Terrence Malick's superior The Thin Red Line released the same year. By 2002, attention was moving towards the Vietnam conflict, an unjust and borderline psychotic war that resulting in heavy losses on all sides. It was a favourite topic for many filmmakers in the 1980's, and produced a few greats, but interest seemed to wane as we moved into the 90's. In 2002, We Were Soldiers was supposed to rekindle our fascination with Vietnam, but has since faded into a long list of half-forgotten war movies.

Based on the book We Were Soldiers Once... and Young by Hal Moore and Joseph L. Galloway, Randall Wallace's film attempts to cover the Battle of Ia Drang from three perspectives: the 400 American men fighting at the front, the 4,000 Vietnamese troops they're up against, and the wives at home fearing the arrival of a taxi cab bringing them unwanted news. The bulk of the action follows Moore (Mel Gibson), then a lieutenant colonel, through training his troops and eventually onto the front line, where intelligence is so sparse that they have no idea what they are up against. It turns out that the Americans are greatly outnumbered, and so begins one of the bloodiest battles of the entire war. He is later joined by reporter Galloway (Barry Pepper), who captured much of the conflict on camera as well as picking up a rifle himself. At home, Moore's wife Julie (Madeleine Stowe) intercepts all the letters informing the devastated wives of their loss to hand-deliver them herself.

We Were Soldiers feels like more of a complete overview on the battle thanks to this unique perspective, while the action is some of the toughest and most unflinching in the genre. Perhaps down to its more observational approach - apparently the events take place almost exactly how it played out in real life - the film often gets criticised and labelled as a pro-war movie. I don't feel that what we see is glamorising or promoting war in any way. On the contrary, it refuses to really to take a stand, and this is what makes Wallace's movie far less interesting than it should be. It all boils down to 'war is Hell', but most people know this already whether they have experienced combat or not. The battle scenes are intense, horrifying and well-staged, and demand to be admired from a technical point of view. But it's nothing we haven't seen before. Despite Chris Klein's failure to really convince as a human, We Were Soldiers features many impressive performances, most notably by Sam Elliott as Sgt. Major Plumley, a gruff Sam Elliott-type who mows down his enemies with a revolver while the rest of his men pack automatics, and Gibson himself, who helps tug on the heartstrings during quiet moments of reflection.


Directed by: Randall Wallace
Starring: Mel Gibson, Madeleine Stowe, Greg Kinnear, Sam Elliott, Chris Klein, Keri Russell, Barry Pepper
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,211: 'Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones' (2002)

After the colossal letdown of 1999's The Phantom Menace - the Star Wars franchise's big return to our screen after a 19 year hiatus - I recall leaving the cinema back in 2002 with a smile on my face and an eagerness to see the entire thing again. After all, it had lightsaber duels, dazzling battle scenes, giant monsters, Yoda fighting, and of course, Jar Jar Binks (Ahmed Best) was reduced to little more than a blink-and-you'll-miss-him cameo. It seemed as though George Lucas had listened to the many complaints made about the previous film and took these on board when developing the next script. I did see it again at the cinema, and a few more times on DVD, and each time I disliked it more and more. It became apparent that I had blinkers on in 2002, and I was simply relieved that it wasn't the stilted mess it had been 3 years earlier. Yet Attack of the Clones is worse than The Phantom Menace, and by a long margin.

Picking up ten years after dealing with the Trade Federation's invasion of Naboo, the Republic now face a deadlier threat in a Separatist movement headed by a mysterious figure. After narrowly surviving an assassination attempt, Senator Padme Amidala (Natalia Portman) is provided with protection in the form of Jedi Knights Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his apprentice, the cocky yet talented Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen). It isn't long before an another attempt is made on the Senator's life and the Jedis chase down the shape-shifting would-be assassin Zam Wesell (Leeanna Walsman), but aren't able to extract any useful information before she is murdered by her bounty hunter employer. At this point, the story splits. Obi-Wan investigates a lead on the whereabouts of the bounty hunter, putting him on the path to remote planet Kamino, while Anakin is assigned to be Padme's personal bodyguard. We already know these two will birth children, so romance is afoot.

Luckily for Anakin, Padme seems to have spent their ten years apart learning how to dress and talk like a real person. Unluckily for us, these scenes of tortured glances and actual rolling through the grass are some of the series' most embarrassing endeavours. Lines such as "I don't like sand, it's course and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere, not like here, here everything is soft and smooth," are spoken with a straight face as if coming from Cyrano de Bergerac, and Hayden Christensen fails to deliver these lines with even a whiff of emotion. Although he's a slight improvement on Jake Lloyd, it's easy to criticise Christensen's awkward performance, but it's difficult to imagine an actor who could convincingly make this dialogue feel remotely natural. The blame lies firmly with George Lucas, a once-great director whose years of tampering with the classic trilogy seems to have blunted his grip on reality. Even seasoned actors like Samuel L. Jackson and Ewan McGregor seem awkward in front of his camera.

The rest doesn't fare much better. During Obi-Wan's mission to Kamino, all we hear about are clones. Understandable, as they are in the title after all, but their importance to the overall story is never really made clear, not to most people outside of Star Wars fandom anyway. Jedi Masters Yoda (Frank Oz) and Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson) talk about them too, but they're caught up in their own little sub-plot regarding the Separatists and the shady Count Dooku (Christopher Lee). With all Star Wars films, there's exposition from the very get-go. Attack of the Clones has ten years of history to fill in, and spends a lot of time in council meetings where characters you probably won't recognise discuss politics via some of the most on-the-nose dialogue you're likely to hear. The 15 years since the movie's release, the advancements in CGI has led to its overuse and feelings of numbness whenever a screen is festooned with a computer-generated smack-down, and so the climactic battle in Episode II only adds to the overall sense of boredom and lack of substance. At least The Phantom Menace had Liam Neeson.


Directed by: George Lucas
Starring: Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Hayden Christensen, Ian McDiarmid, Frank Oz, Samuel L. Jackson, Temuera Morrison, Christopher Lee
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,084: 'Hellraiser: Hellseeker' (2002)

A whopping 15 years after Clive Barker's masterful introduction to the hellish world of Pinhead and his Cenobite entourage comes the sixth entry into the Hellraiser franchise, and continues the tradition of each sequel becoming more and more removed from the original's mythology. Like the previous film, Hellraiser: Inferno (2000), Hellseeker feels like a stand-alone script with Barker's world of sadomasochism shoehorned in so that Dimension Films can retain the rights to a series that can be clumsily and cheaply churned out, and can be almost guaranteed to at least make its money back.

One of the few things worthy of note in Hellseeker is the return of Ashley Laurence as Kirsty Cotton, who went A.W.O.L. after the third entry, Hell on Earth (1992). Instead on weaving her character back into the story, director Rick Bota opts instead to focus on her deadbeat husband Trevor, played by Oz's Dean Winters. After a car crash leaves Kirsty apparently dead, Trevor begins to suffer from delusions and a severe case of amnesia. He is being questioned by a couple of cops who are keen to get to the bottom of some unanswered questions, and he discovers that he has been cheating on his wife with a woman at work and a flirty neighbour. He is also plagued by flashbacks, including one where he gives his wife a birthday present, the Lament Configuration.

Hellseeker takes 'inspiration' from many films, especially Angel Heart (1987) and Jacob's Ladder (1990). While those films used a fractured narrative as a way for the viewer to peek inside the damaged mind of its protagonist and to keep you guessing as the story unfolds. this dud simply has Winters awaken after every other scene rubbing his temples to reveal that the previous scene was 'just a dream', long after you had already guessed it. Winters is perfectly competent in the role, but his character just isn't interesting enough to hold your attention, and it's a wonder as to why the focus isn't on Laurence instead, whose tie-ins with the original trilogy would have made for a more intriguing experience. Doug Bradley is as solid as you would expect as Pinhead, but like most of the straight-to-video sequels, he is barely used, making for a completely boring and uninspired experience.


Directed by: Rick Bota
Starring: Dean Winters, Ashley Laurence, Doug Bradley, Rachel Hayward
Country: Canada/USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,077: 'The Bourne Identity' (2002)

Few could have expected the affect Doug Liman's adaptation of Robert Ludlum's novel The Bourne Identity would have on action cinema, and on the career of star Matt Damon, when it was released back in 2002. This well-crafted, relatively low-key action thriller takes the done-to-death spy-with-amnesia story and runs with it, avoiding the lure of throwing in Michael Bay-esque explosions and wisely keeping things grounded, as shady government types in dull black suits stare at computer monitors and make demands to their younger cronies that they have the information they require 'yesterday'.

In the Mediterranean Sea, a fishing vessel picks up a man near death with two bullet holes in his back. The on-board doctor tends to his wounds and pulls a small device from his hip, which reveals a Swiss bank account number when activated. The man has no memory of who he is, and so heads to Zurich to recover a safe deposit box that contains multiple identities, a wad of cash in different currencies, and a gun. He opts to go by the name on his American passport, Jason Bourne, but soon finds himself chased by a shadowy agency called Treadstone, seemingly led by the ruthless Conklin (Chris Cooper). Evading capture at the American embassy, he pays pretty German lady Marie (Franka Potente) to drive him to Paris in the hope of discovering who he is and who is after him.

Jason Bourne can now be spoken in the same breath as James Bond, and in fact makes the British super-spy seem ridiculous in comparison, especially the Pierce Brosnan incarnation. Bourne is infinitely more interesting because he is conflicted, tortured by a past of mass-murder and seeking to make amends for his actions. While the action scenes thrill in a refreshingly unspectacular way, it's Bourne's tender relationship with Marie that generate the most sparks. Potente is lovely in the role, and her naturalism and chemistry with Damon is the film's biggest positive, and there are smart turns from Cooper and Brian Cox as the grumpy old agency men and Clive Owen as a dead-eyed fellow assassin. While it may pale in comparison to the bar-raising Paul Greengrass sequels, Identity is still a nifty thriller with characters to actually care about.


Directed by: Doug Liman
Starring: Matt Damon, Franka Potente, Chris Cooper, Clive Owen, Brian Cox, Julia Stiles
Country: USA/Germany/Czech Republic

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,010: 'Austin Powers in Goldmember' (2002)

It's easy to forget that the first time the world was introduced to Mike Myers' wonky-toothed and bespectacled British superspy back in 1997 with Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, precious few people went to see it. The film eventually gathered a huge following when it was released on VHS, and the formula was recycled again for the smash-hit sequel, The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999). The character and his arch-nemesis Dr. Evil are now so ingrained in popular culture that it's quite bizarre to think that you could once shout "oh, behave!" or "yeah, baby!" at a friend to receive a look of utter bewilderment in return.

The franchise proved so popular that its two sequels repeated the same gags and failed to really move the story on. Despite this obvious flaw, The Spy Who Shagged Me and the (as of 2016) final instalment Goldmember still managed to generate enough belly laughs to give them a pass, often relying on the irresistible comedic charm of its star Mike Myers. However, it was clear that the series was running out of steam by the time number 3 came around, as Goldmember remains the least funny of the trilogy, introducing a forgettable baddie in the form of the titular gold-obsessed, skin-munching Dutch supervillain, also played by Myers.

Yet the film kicks off with the greatest gag of all the movies. Just as we think we're watching an over-the-top set-piece from one of Austin's missions, its soon revealed to be a movie within a movie, with Tom Cruise wearing the spectacles and Kevin Spacey as Dr. Evil. We are then treated to the expectedly ridiculous, but entirely endearing, opening dance sequence, this time involving Britney Spears. Its a level of hilarity that the remainder of the movie sadly fails to maintain. For the first time we get to meet Austin's father in the form of Michael Caine, and Beyonce Knowles donning an impressive afro and plenty of sass as Foxxy Cleopatra, in a loving tribute to blaxploitation.

The bulk of the movie consists of the characters being restrained by their own eccentricities, which after two previous movies starts to stretch the humour a bit thin. Like Fat Bastard from the second entry, Goldmember is a one-joke character when the joke isn't that funny to begin with. His innuendos and disgusting habit repulse to the point of being simply unpleasant. Its at its best when it sticks to what made the franchise so loveable to begin with - the Bond pastiches. There's a ludicrous masterplan in there somewhere and the scenes in which Austin and Evil go face-to-face are as priceless as ever, but when Myers tries to insert some dramatic weight to the mix involving Austin's daddy issues the movie starts to drag. By the end, its clear that he picked the right time to wave goodbye to his most successful character (although he hasn't had much luck since).


Directed by: Jay Roach
Starring: Mike Myers, Beyoncé Knowles, Seth Green, Michael York, Robert Wagner, Michael Caine, Mindy Sterling, Verne Troyer
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #915: 'Bowling for Columbine' (2002)

In the wake of the recent shootings in Virginia by a masked gunman live on air and the seemingly endless mass killings in America taking place in schools, movie theatres and churches, it seemed like the perfect time to re-visit Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore's breakthrough documentary on gun violence in America. It has been 16 years since the massacre of 12 students and 1 teacher at Columbine High School in Columbine, Colorado, and 13 years since Michael Moore won the Best Documentary Oscar for his extremely provocative and shocking film. The main question is has anything changed? The answer is a resounding no. In fact, gun violence seems more out of control than ever.

Starting out tongue-in-cheek, Bowling for Columbine begins by telling a few amusing, almost too-ridiculous-to-be-true anecdotes highlighting America's love of guns. Moore opens an account in a bank, only to be rewarded with a rifle for doing so. and begging the question of just how sensible it is to be handing out guns in a bank. We then learn of a couple of men who thought it would be funny to dress up their dog in hunting gear with a rifle strapped to it's back, only for the gun to fall off and shoot one of them in the leg. These early moments are hilarious as Moore interviews the type of crazy-haired lunatics who should have their own soundtrack of twanging banjos, but serve to set up the audience for something more serious and all the more troubling.

Is America's violent history to blame for the amount of gun deaths that occur every year? Most large countries, such as Britain, Germany and Japan, were built on bloodshed and have committed recent atrocities. Is America's love of guns as a way of life the reason for so much violence? Canada is also a gun-loving nation of hunters, but Canadian's leave their doors unlocked when they leave their home. Is it the poverty and mass unemployment? Nope - check out almost any other country with the same social issues but without the same levels of crime. It's when Moore takes a trip across the water to Canada that he seems to have the revelation. He catches a clip of the news, where the breaking story is the introduction of speed bumps. These people weren't being drilled with fear 24/7. Switch on the news in America, and you see young black males being chased down, arrested, and thrown into the back of a police car, or as interviewee Marilyn Manson points out, there are adverts telling you that if you don't brush with Colgate, you'll have bad breath and no-one with come near you.

For the majority of Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore raises some terrifying questions and makes many very good points, all delivered with powerful, ironic montage's, insightful interviews, and a wry humour. But the last quarter descends into a Moore vanity piece, as he puts himself in front of the camera when he should remain behind it. Moore takes a couple of Columbine's survivors to Walmart to campaign against their sale of bullets and brings the press with him. Although it gets the job done, Moore's ever-presence as a kind of working man's hero makes it come across as a cheap publicity stunt. There's also the climactic interview with NRA president Charlton Heston, who Moore lures in under false pretences and then ambushes with questions of gun-control, a tactic that crosses any journalistic boundaries into sheer rudeness and left me uncomfortable. However, Bowling for Columbine is still an extremely powerful film, and is still shockingly relevant over a decade later. Every week, the news seems to deliver a story about yet another massacre and yet a lot of American's still argue that guns are important for self-defence, which is an extremely depressing thought indeed.


Directed by: Michael Moore
Starring: Michael Moore, Charlton Heston
Country: Canada/USA/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #765: 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' (2002)

Director Chris Columbus, responsible for popular cuddly, family-friendly movies such as Home Alone (1990) and Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), here makes his second, and thankfully last, entry into the Harry Potter franchise. The series needed to go way darker after Chamber of Secrets, and did, and this film marked the ending of the bright, and non-threatening, adventures for Harry and co. It's also the last time Potter the film so painstakingly stuck to Harry the book, and here everything that should have been cut in fact remains. Due to this, and the exhausting running time, Chamber of Secrets is the worst of all 8 films.

Still stuck with his horrible adoptive parents (Richard Griffiths and Fiona Shaw) for the summer while he awaits another year at his beloved Hogwarts, Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) is visited by house-elf Dobby (voiced by Toby Jones), who warns him that he must not return to the school of wizardry this year. He finds his efforts to catch the Hogwarts Express scuppered, and instead must travel by flying car with his daft friend Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint). When he does arrive, students begin to turn up petrified (literally), with whispers of the mythical Chamber of Secrets being re-opened and unleashing a terrifying monster into the school.

While the first film needed to spend time on developing the world that J.K. Rowling so beautifully imagined and the colourful characters who inhabit it, Chamber of Secrets has no such baggage. Yet Columbus, along with screenwriter Steve Kloves, have done little other than simply film the images millions of fans already have imprinted in their mind. We seem to slog through every second of Harry's second year at Hogwarts, with little thought having been given to the humour and charm that seemed to spatter every paragraph in the engrossing novels.

Instead, we get special-effects aplenty, with long periods dedicated to a flying car with a mind of it's own, some hungry spiders in the forest, and a Quidditch match that does little that the first film didn't do already. Rowling's books are so recognisably British, with old eccentrics who all seem to have Monty Python-silly senses of humour, and that feeling of the characters all sitting near a comforting roaring fire. Even though Columbus have upheld Rowling's demand for an all-British cast, everything in the film seems fat and Americanised, all CGI and no heart, so far removed from Britain that I almost expected Steve Martin or Robin Williams to walk in.

There are a few saving graces, namely the stellar cast of adults, all returning from the first film. It also introduces Kenneth Branagh as celebrity wizard and new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Gilderoy Lockhart, and Jason Isaacs as the father of Harry's arch-nemesis Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton). They chew on their scenes, helping save the still-struggling Radcliffe and Emma Watson (who would get better as the films progressed). It also marked the sad passing of Richard Harris, here appearing for the final time as Dumbeldore, before being replaced by Michael Gambon in the role. But a few decent performances cannot save this bloated, sickly film from feeling stretched and an hour too long.


Directed by: Chris Columbus
Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Robbie Coltrane, Richard Harris, Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, Kenneth Branagh, Jason Isaacs
Country: USA/UK/Germany

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #679: 'Bus 174' (2002)

On June 12th, 2000, a young man named Sandro Rosa do Nascimento hijacked a bus in Rio de Janeiro with the intention of robbing the passengers inside. When one of the passengers notified a police car, the bus was intercepted and Sandro took all the passengers hostage, armed with a .38 caliber revolver. Soon enough, the bus - Omnibus 174 - was a media frenzy, with everything being broadcast live to the watching public. What ensued was not only a sign of the ineptitude of the Rio police force, but an insight into one of the most serious societal problems in Brazil - the invisible homeless.

Sandro's story began years before the events of Jose Padilha and Felipe Lacerda's documentary Bus 1974. Through friends and witnesses, we learn about Sandro's childhood as he witnessed several horrific acts, such as the murder of his mother in front of his very eyes, and the events of the Candelaria massacre which saw the murder of eight homeless children by men thought to be police officers. But we also learn how the homeless in Rio de Janeiro are simply ignored by citizens. This abandonment by your own society can cause serious psychological defects, that lead the homeless to feel they have no place in the world.

We get a real insight into how Rio de Janeiro treats their lowest of citizens (the prisoners) in a stand-out scene which I never wish to see again. Turning the image into negative to somehow try and shield us from the true horror, the camera pans alongside a tiny prison cell that holds between 40-50 prisoners. They each have their own unique story, which they rant to camera. They are forced to take turns to stand up and lie down, to piss and shit where they eat, causing disease to spread like wildfire, and all in 100 degree heat. This is not a place interested in rehabilitation.

This is documentary film-making at it's most thrilling and disheartening. The hostage situation plays out like a check-list of police malpractice and ill-preparation. At one point, Sandro shoots at the ground, feigning the execution of a hostage, and then hangs his head out of the window to tell the police what he has done. Many times this happens, still the police do not take him out. The same year saw the release of City of God, a super-stylised account of Brazil's ghettos, so it appears that Brazil was turning an big eye on itself and its societal problems. At 150 minutes, this is a long and detailed documentary that tends to repeat itself every so often or draw out an event in the hostage crisis, but Bus 174 will no doubt leave you moved and, more importantly, angry.


Directed by: José Padilha, Felipe Lacerda
Starring: Sandro Do Nascimento
Country: Brazil

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #675: '25th Hour' (2002)

In the year following the 9/11 attacks on New York and America, film-makers and producers were still tip-toeing around the subject, even going as far as digitally removing the World Trade Centre from Sam Raimi's Spider-Man trailer. Never one to shy away from confronting a controversial subject head-on, director Spike Lee made 25th Hour, a story of young Irish-American drug dealer Monty Brogan (Edward Norton) celebrating his last day of freedom before he gets banged up for 7 years. Brogan serves as a metaphor for the post-9/11 America - unsure, paranoid, angry, disillusioned. In the first scene, we see him younger, happier, and saving a dying dog with his Russian friend Kostya (Tony Siragusa), but this was before he got busted, and, presumably, before 9/11.

Lee is hardly subtle about his allegories, and the opening credits are shown over images of the beams of light shooting up in the air at Ground Zero, representing the fallen towers of the World Trade Centre. In another scene, Monty's two best friends Jacob (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Frank (Barry Pepper) discuss Monty's future once he gets out of prison. Frank's apartment overlooks Ground Zero, and Frank explains how nothing can ever be the same, both for their relationship with Monty, and for America. The presence of Ground Zero looms like some unshakeable ghost, almost serving as a character itself. Jacob and Frank's lives are hitting a sort-of midlife crisis also. Jacob is channelling his "liberal guilt" into sexually obsessing over a young student of his (Anna Paquin) and Jacob's Red Bull and stock market-fuelled existence is reaching breaking point.

Of course, this being a Spike Lee 'joint' (how I wish he'd stop calling them that), the subject of race is never far away, and Lee confronts this in a standout scene that comes out of nowhere. Monty, after a dinner with his guilt-ridden father (Brian Cox), goes into the bathroom of his father's bar for his reflection to launch into a rant about his hatred for the many ethnic groups that reside in New York. "Fuck the Sikhs and Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in their decrepit cabs, fuck the Korean grocers, fuck the Russians and the Chassidim," he shouts. He also fucks the church, the Wall Street bankers and rich trophy wives. This is a man focusing his anger at anybody, and much like Lee's masterpiece Do the Right Thing (1989), the film manages to capture what many were feeling at the time.

All allegories aside, 25th Hour holds it's own as a drama. There's no twist and turns or gunfights, and the only real tension comes from people's suspicions of Monty's girlfriend Naturelle (Rosario Dawson) being possibly the one who fingered Monty. But there's no need for it, as Lee's aim here is to create something all the more sombre and reflective. The cast are superb, especially Norton and Pepper, the latter proving that his talents have gone unrecognised for far too long with a performance of self-destructive narcissism. The social messages can be heavy-handed at times, and it goes on for far too long, but the ending provides an outstanding fantasy prologue of blind optimism. One of the most honest depictions of America ever made.


Directed by: Spike Lee
Starring: Edward Norton, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Pepper, Rosario Dawson, Anna Paquin, Brian Cox
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #415: 'Gangs of New York' (2002)

After seeing his father 'Priest' (Liam Neeson) murdered at the hands of rival gang leader Bill 'the Butcher' Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis) 16 years before, Amsterdam Vallon (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns to the Five Points in New York seeking revenge. Not much has changed since he fled, as tension remains between the 'Natives', the Irish immigrants, the Chinese and the blacks, only Bill now rules over with an iron fist, helping corrupt politician William 'Boss' Tweed (Jim Broadbent) gain votes. With the help of old friend Johnny (Henry Thomas), Amsterdam finds himself working his way up Bill's ranks, and after thwarting an assassination attempt on Bill, Amsterdam wonders if he did it out of his desire to kill Bill himself, or a growing loyalty to his new employer.

Following a lengthy book-to-screen adaptation, Scorsese's historical epic reached the cinema screens 23 years after he bought the rights to Herbert Asbury's book The Gangs of New York: An Informal History of the Underworld, amongst stories of studio fall-outs and arguments over final cut. It seems all those years of pondering did not allow Scorsese to fine-tune his vision, and although the film looks absolutely astonishing, the result is a bit of a mess, albeit one that never gets boring. Telling such a detailed historical account of America's fist-fights for power amongst mass immigration and racial tension could not have come at a more suitable time, as the 9/11 attacks occurred during production. But Scorsese chooses to cram this in with sub-plots of political corruption, a love-story between Amsterdam and thief Jenny (Cameron Diaz), the New York Draft Riots, and the central revenge story.

Of course, the film's ultimate saving grace is Daniel Day-Lewis, who gives a theatrical, sledgehammer performance as the one eyed-monster, and his scene where he sits talking to Amsterdam with an American flag draped over his shoulders is worth a thousand Academy Awards alone. Among the wave of dodgy Oirish accents, DiCaprio's isn't that bad, pulling of a credible performance which would jump-start his close relationship with Scorsese in the years after. Amsterdam is no regular hero, he's just as violent as the next thug, and one of the most interesting aspects of the film is how Scorsese tends not to show any race or group in a particularly good light. This is America's dirty beginnings after all, and boy is it bloody - heads are bludgeoned, cheeks are torn from their face - it's probably Scorsese's most gruesome since Casino (1995).

Second time around, Gangs of New York did seem admittedly better paced and more fleshed out (I thought I might even be watching a director's cut), with the political goings-on and the various sub-plots making much more sense. But the film is still a mess, and it progresses with a taste for almost glamorising the violence. The opening scene depicting the bloody fight between the Butcher's natives and the Priest's Dead Rabbits comes with slow-motion and electric guitar music, and this punk-ish approach causes it to clash with its historical setting. However, it looks staggering. The costumes, the huge sets, and the dirt and grit, has an epic David Lean quality, almost old-fashioned in a way. Yet this is a very modern film, and perhaps a more classical approach may have benefited the film which is ultimately unfocused, but effortlessly thrilling.


Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Daniel Day-Lewis, Cameron Diaz, Jim Broadbent, John C. Reilly, Henry Thomas, Liam Neeson, Brendan Gleeson
Country: USA/Italy

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #411: 'Ice Age' (2002)

When a group of sabre-toothed cats led by Soto (Goran Visnjic) attack a group of humans that have been hunting their pack, a mother of a new-born baby escapes, inadvertently leaving the baby with the giant mammoth Manny (Ray Romano) and his clumsy, clueless tag-a-long friend Sid (John Leguizamo), a sloth. Soto puts his lieutenant Diego (Denis Leary) in charge of finding the baby and bringing it back to him alive, so Diego befriends Manny and Sid, who are returning the baby to the humans, in an attempt to mislead them into the path of Soto and his savage pack. But they have treacherous caves and a group of idiotic dodo's in their path, amongst other things.

With a relatively microscopic budget (of around $60 million) in terms of modern funding, 20th Century Fox have managed to create a lovely-looking (although it suffers in comparison to the likes of WALL-E (2008)) piece of animation with a host of talented voice actors. Of course, due to its massive popularity, the Ice Age films have now produced three sequels, a Christmas special, and a rather impressive profit. I was interested to see why this was so popular, given the massive amount of CGI animated films being churned out these days that are of mainly poor quality. Although the film isn't exactly a classic, the well realised characters (and the voices behind them) and its genuine heart raises it above the rest.

This kind of story has been done before, for instance it was bettered in Pixar's Monsters, Inc. (2001) that came out a year before, and although it would be harsh to call the film unoriginal, Ice Age does suffer somewhat because of this. But whoever's idea it was to cast Hollywood misfit John Leguizamo as the idiotic Sid deserves a firm pat on the back. He is the comic relief to the film, and if mishandled could have come across as annoying, yet Leguizamo's voice (coming across as Louis Spence crossed with Mort from Family Guy) and some impressive facial capturing makes him a very funny and endearing character. And every time the story seems to be heading into predictable territory (which is does often), a clever running joke involving Scrat, a sabre-toothed squirrel, trying to smuggle an acorn to be frequently interrupted, makes the film fun again. Hardly anything breakthrough, but there's much fun to be had and I will be watching the sequels.


Directed by: Chris Wedge, Carlos Saldanha
Voices: Ray Romano, John Leguizamo, Denis Leary, Goran Visnjic, Jack Black, Cedric The Entertainer
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #322: 'Lilya 4-Ever' (2002)

In the former Soviet Union, 16-year old Lilya (Oksana Akinshina) lives with her mother and new boyfriend, and is excitedly awaiting a relocation to the United States. It turns out her mother doesn't want her there, and takes off with the promise of Lilya following later, leaving Lilya alone in her apartment. Her aunt then throws her out, giving her the run-down flat of a recently deceased old man, and Lilya finds herself without any money, and only the young Volodya (Artyom Bogucharskiy) as a friend. Desperate, she discovers how easy it is to make money from whoring herself out, and then meets the handsome Andrei (Pavel Ponomaryov), who invites her to live with him in Sweden. Despite Volodya's warnings, she decides to take his offer, but it soon becomes apparent that there is more to his Andrei's promises.

Based on a true story of a young girl who was trafficked to Sweden only to find herself imprisoned and forced to have sex for money, director Lukas Moodysson's film is set mostly in a very grim reality. Similar both to the social realism of Ken Loach, and the relentless and uncomfortable degrading of it's lead female character that is so prominent in Lars von Trier's films, Moodysson film is certainly brutal. As Lilya (played with a tragic naivety by Akinshina) is being abused in Sweden, we are treated to a POV montage of the various perverts and abusers, sweating and breathing into the camera. We live through the whole thing through the eyes of Lilya, a character of almost operatic tragedy, who suffers for the sins of others in a country ravaged by poverty, glue-sniffing and boredom.

But Moodysson wisely doesn't keep everything grim. In the final third, as Lilya suffers the most, the film often turns dream-like and fairy-tale. He introduces angels and dream sequences, as Lilya finds herself drifting through existence in an almost coma-like state, with her dreams and fantasies her only relief. These scenes (and there are only a few) are not flashy or whimsical, but are subtle and simplistic, in a similar way that Wim Wenders portrayed his angels in Wings of Desire (1987). It's a powerful tool that makes Lilya's plight all the more profound. The film plays out almost like a cruel fairy-tale, only set very much in the real world. Lilya 4-Ever is a hard film to sit through, but is rich in humanity, even though most of its characters are certainly devoid of it.


Directed by: Lukas Moodysson
Starring: Oksana Akinshina, Artyom Bogucharskiy, Pavel Ponomaryov
Country: Sweden/Denmark

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #308: 'Uzak' (2002)

Mahmut (Muzaffer Ozdemir) is a successful photographer living in his middle-class apartment in Istanbul. His wife has recently left him, and he is suffering from feelings of isolation and loneliness. Mahmut's cousin Yusuf (Emin Toprak) loses his factory job (along with possibly 1000 others in his hometown) and travels to Istanbul to find work on the ships, where he hears the money is plentiful and easy. Yusuf moves in with Mahmut, and the social and emotional distance between the two is immediately apparent. As time goes by, Yusuf struggles to find work and desperately searches for love (or sex) to no avail, while Mahmut becomes increasingly frustrated with Yusuf's slobbish attitudes and lethargic attitude.

Director Nuri Bilge Ceylan's background is in photography, leading to a natural progression into films. His eye for photographic beauty is evident as Uzak is often astonishing in it's framing and colour saturation. Istanbul is shot with an aura of misery, and these two lonely souls gaze out to the grey sea with the rain and drizzle falling upon their slumped shoulders. However, amongst the greys and the browns, Uzak proves to be an extremely funny film, with Ceylan drawing humour from the most mundane of everyday occurrences. I found the most subtly funny scene is where Mahmut and Yusuf watch Tarkovsky's Stalker (1979), with Yusuf getting bored at what looks like around the twenty minute point. Yusuf leaves, and Mahmut quickly puts a porn video in. Yusuf re-enters causing Mahmut to quickly turn the channel over, only for Yusuf to linger over his shoulder mindlessly staring at the TV. It brilliantly captures the increasing tension between the two, while laughing at their ridiculous situation.

The title Uzak translates at Distant, referring to the social, emotional and spiritual distance between the two, but it also refers to the global distance that is appearing in society as the world gets smaller. Communication is easier yet harder. Although Mahmut and Yusuf are physically and geographically together, they are miles apart. Mahmut is sophisticated and clean (or at least he likes to think of himself like this and models himself on Tarkovsky, but as the aforementioned scene proves, he'd much rather watch a bit of porn) and Yusuf is uneducated and messy. Mahmut has sacrificed personal happiness to live out his idyllic middle-class lifestyle, and Yusuf lazes around expecting a job and money to come to him, leading him to live out his miserable, sexually inactive life. Uzak is occasionally grim and contains little dialogue, but Ceylan's amazing eye for humour and social commentary make it a wonderful experience. And special mention must go to the two leads, who are brilliant in their roles, making it all the more tragic that Emin Toprak was killed shortly after the filming was complete.


Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Starring: Muzaffer Özdemir, Emin Toprak, Zuhal Gencer
Country: Turkey

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie