Review #1,414: 'The Incredibles' (2004)

Earlier this year, when Disney finally completed their takeover of 21st Century Fox, Marvel fans rejoiced at the idea of the X-Men and the Fantastic Four finally being brought into the fold and into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. After the silly, family-friendly Fantastic Four we got back in 2005 and its only-slightly-better sequel in 2006, Josh Trank's much-anticipated 2015 reboot failed spectacularly, causing Fox to shelve the tainted franchise indefinitely. Since Kevin Feige and the MCU can seemingly do no wrong, we will finally be getting an interpretation worthy of Marvel's first family. What most fans didn't realise however, is that we already had a great Fantastic Four movie, only it wasn't made by Marvel and didn't feature the likes of Mr. Fantastic and the Human Torch. No, I'm not referring to Roger Corman's 1994 disaster, but the one made by Pixar Studios called The Incredibles, which is still to this day one of the greatest superhero movies of all time.

The world has been blessed with the arrival of superheroes: super-powered beings who dress up in masks and tights, battling crime in their spare time to the adoration of a grateful public. But with the rise of superheroes comes the rise of supervillains, all with equally outlandish costumes, nicknames and powers. Public opinion suddenly shifts when famous hero Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) saves a man from suicide, and the lawsuits start to hit the caped crusaders. In response, the government starts the Superhero Relocation Program, designed to hide the supers in society and keep their crime-fighting antics at bay. Years later, Mr. Incredible is living a dull suburban existence with his wife Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) and their three children Violent (Sarah Vowell), Dash (Spencer Fox), and baby Jack-Jack. His work at an insurance company brings him no joy, so he helps the vulnerable to find loopholes in the company's policies to ensure they pay out, and spends some nights with old buddy Frozone (Samuel L. Jackson) listening to a police radio. But life seems to have meaning once again when he is contacted by a mysterious woman named Mirage (Elizabeth Pena), who offers the overweight lug a top-secret mission on a secret island base.

Pixar is famous not only for the quality of their movies, but for how their products can be loved by anybody in any age group. Children will enjoy the bright colours and spectacular action, adults will appreciate the sly wit, and just about everybody will fall for the heart. Yet despite its somewhat glossy appearance, The Incredibles is Pixar at its most mature. While the film does gift its characters super-strength, super-speed and invisibility, The Incredibles is really about dysfunction and the trappings of family life and a 9 to 5 job. Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl have reached crisis point, with the latter left to dealt with children only just discovering their powers while the former is off daydreaming about the glory days. It's what drives the drama, and is ultimately what makes you hold your breath when they are in danger or want to punch the air when they suit up to face their foe. Such an honest depiction of marital life doesn't make for depressing viewing however, with writer/director Brad Bird mixing in some fine slapstick humour and the mic-dropping costume designer Edna Mode (voiced by Bird himself). 14 years after its release, it still remains one of Pixar's finest, and Bird finds the perfect balance of comedy, drama and action as he did with his other animated classic, The Iron Giant.


Directed by: Brad Bird
Voices: Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter, Sarah Vowell, Spencer Fox, Jason Lee, Samuel L. Jackson, Elizabeth Peña
Country: USA

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 #1,319: 'Dig!' (2004)

The fickle nature of the music industry is well known. Most bands will try and flounder with a whimper; true visionaries will fail to find an audience or be deemed as too great a risk by the corporate machine; and the pretty but talent-free will strike it rich with one instantly forgettable tune after another. It's been documented in film before, but never in such brutal, in-your-face detail as Ondi Timoner's documentary Dig!. The cameras followed bands The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre for seven years, covering their friendship during the bright-eyed, let's-change-the-world beginnings to the bitter rivalry that formed between them as one made it big and the other struggled in infamy.

Both bands wanted to start a music revolution - one that would see artists take back control from the industry heads who ultimately lacked vision - by refusing to sell out. The Dandy Warhols' professionalism and willingness to bend as long as it avoided breaking meant that their star rose with increasing speed, before Bohemian Like You was snapped up by a mobile phone company and they became an overnight sensation, particularly here in the UK. This savviness is mistaken for bending over by BJM frontman Anton Newcombe, and soon Dandy lead singer Courtney Taylor-Taylor is receiving strange packages containing shotgun cartridges. Meanwhile, Newcombe's increasingly threatening behaviour towards everyone around him sees his band often struggle to make it through a set without brawling on stage. BJM were descending quickly from the next big thing to a circus sideshow.

Despite the chaos on screen, Timoner never loses sight of Newcombe's raw talent. His actions can be blamed on mental illness, egomania or copious amount of heroin, but he is the real deal, pouring everything into his work and banging out records at a miraculous rate (they released three albums in 1996 alone). The genius and madness meld together to create an image of a man worn down by his philosophy, someone who preached love but only ever gave any to himself. His descent is both tragic and funny, and every fight, argument and storm-out is captured by Timoner's ever-present camera. For a film ultimately echoing Newcombe's views on a corporate mechanism more interested in money than artistry, Dig! somehow forgets the music itself. The odd bar or snippet can be heard here and there, but it's usually interrupted by some act of self-destruction or other. Ultimately however, Dig! is a fascinating study of the idea of selling-out and a must-see for music fans, serving as a cautionary tale for anyone considering starting a band.


Directed by: Ondi Timoner
Starring: Anton Newcombe, Courtney Taylor-Taylor, Joel Gion, Matt Hollywood
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,256: '9 Songs' (2004)

Michael Winterbottom is one of the most important and challenging filmmakers around. Over the past couple of decades, he has directed a prolific stream of interesting features across a variety of genres, refusing to settle on a particular style and seemingly always working on a minuscule budget. But no filmmaker is immune to producing a stinker, and after a successful 2002 which saw the release of the excellent double-header of 24 Hour Party People and In This World, Winterbottom hit a grey patch with Code 46 and 9 Songs. He would push the boundaries of what could be tolerated in terms of cinematic violence in 2010 with the divisive The Killer Inside Me, but 6 years earlier he would test the BBFC's waters with 9 Songs, a film that may still be the most sexually explicit film ever to be released in British theatres.

It tells the story of two lovers: Matt (Kieran O'Brien), a British scientist, and Lisa (Margo Stilley), an American exchange student. As the film opens, the couple have broken up and Matt is heading to Antarctica to conduct research and reflect on their doomed relationship. He remembers their time together through the sex they had, and they had a lot of it. 9 Songs quickly falls into a pattern: Sex scene, concert scene, and then a trip back to desolate mountains of Antarctica. They met at Brixton Academy and share a love of live music, so between the sex we get to experience the various gigs they go to - the 9 songs of the title - shot guerrilla-style from afar over the heads of the audience, which is pretty much how most of us experience a concert. The sex is passionate, spontaneous and exciting, but love is much harder. As it becomes clear to both of them that they won't be together forever, they employ blindfolds and handcuffs to spice things up, but nothing can mask the distance opening between them.

Winterbottom doesn't shy away from explicitness. We get to see full penetration, oral sex and even a money shot - pretty much everything you would expect from a cheeky browse on Pornhub. But what separates 9 Songs from pornography is the complete lack of sensationalism. There is absolutely nothing arousing about the sex, despite the attractiveness of the two leads, and this is likely what convinced the BBFC to pass it uncut (it's 'art'). The problem with 9 Songs is that the idea is infinitely more interesting than the execution. This is an incredibly dull and repetitive film, made all the more of a chore to sit through by the two thinly-realised and rather annoying characters at the forefront. Winterbottom seems to be trying to say something profound by occasionally switching the action to the South Pole, but it comes across as allegory on the level of a student-film. The concert footage is filmed with the same grungy energy as 24 Hour Party People - one of my favourite Winterbottom films - so there's some relief to be found in performances by the likes of Primal Scream, Franz Ferdinand and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, if you're into that sort of thing.


Directed by: Michael Winterbottom
Starring: Kieran O'Brien, Margo Stilley
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,234: 'Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence' (2004)

Despite the critical and commercial success of Mamoru Oshii's Ghost in the Shell, an adaptation of the equally-popular manga by Masamune Shirow, it took a whole nine years for a sequel to arrive. Without Oshii's involvement, a spin-off series entitled Stand Alone Complex was launched, which satisfied fans despite having very little connection to the movie, but shared many of its themes of cyber-punk futurism, perilous technological advancements, and philosophical pondering. Oshii's sequel, Innocence, which picks up the story of the original some years later, was what the fans really wanted. But does it live up to the legacy left by Ghost in the Shell, a film now considered a classic of the sci-fi genre, animated or not? It's focus is slight, but the ambition remains lofty, however Innocence certainly cowers in the presence of its towering predecessor.

Huge advancements in cybernetics now mean that the line between human and technology is more difficult to decipher than ever. Humans utilise robotics to increase their physical and mental potential, and your soul (or 'ghost') and memories can be downloaded, stored and transferred. Batou (voiced by Akio Otsuka), more cyborg than human, works for Section 9. One of his few memories is that of his former partner Major Motoko Kusanagi (Atsuko Tanaka), whose ghost disappeared into cyberspace at the end of the previous film. Now partnered with the mostly-human rookie Togusa (Koichi Yamadera), the bickering cops start to investigate a series of murders committed by malfunctioning gynoids, or sex bots. The trail leads them from the yakuza to a popular robot manufacturer, who provide a certain service for those with the money to pay for it.

The plot is be relatively straight-forward and carries the tone of a buddy-cop noir for the most part, although there's an occasional detour into mind-fucking 'ghost-hack' territory. But Oshii is less interested in the narrative driving Batou to get where he needs to be than the philosophical questions raised by this beautiful, terrifying future. The dialogue, which pulls quotes from various obscure philosophical texts, becomes increasingly difficult to keep up with, especially when the majority of the characters spend more time debating their place in the world than doing their actual job. And if you're watching with subtitles, like I did, then good luck to you. To compare it to The Matrix Reloaded may be somewhat harsh, as Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence boasts some stunning animation (a blend of hand-drawn and computer animation), and a collection of well-staged, bone-crunching action scenes. Some of the imagery is genuinely haunting, and it's in these moments that this sequel feels like it may live up to its predecessor.


Directed by: Mamoru Oshii
Voices: Akio Ôtsuka, Atsuko Tanaka, Kôichi Yamadera, Tamio Ôki
Country: Japan

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,156: 'Downfall' (2004)

While there may be a multitude of movies produced in Europe and America depicting the atrocities of Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich - both to dramatic and deliberately comical effect - Germany itself is notoriously apprehensive when facing its dark, and very recent, history. Based on accounts from historians and witnesses, including Andre Heller and Othmar Schmiderer's documentary Blind Spot: Hitler's Secretary (from which scenes are used to book-end the film), Oliver Hirschbiegel's Der Untergang, or Downfall, is one of the best movies ever made about Hitler. Rather than investigating how the war veteran and struggling artist became the egotistical tyrant he is remembered as being, Downfall focuses on his final days holed up in a bunker as the war comes to a bloody end around him.

It's a testament to Bruno Ganz's performance that Hitler remains the enigmatic figure seen in Leni Riefenstahl's documentaries, even though he is descending into madness and is clearly in the early stages of Alzheimer's disease. As the Russian army closes in on Berlin and the shell blasts increase in volume through the walls, Hitler and his cabinet are faced with the crippling realisation that their vision of global ethnic cleansing and forming a Germanic empire has failed spectacularly. Often hushed, cunning and inspirational to the men who still adore him, the Fuhrer is also prone to outrageous demands and formidable tantrums. He is a paradoxical cluster, damning his people to death by demanding they still resist an enemy that has already defeated them, yet Ganz still finds humanity in there. Between scolding the Jewish race and sending units into certain death, he mourns the death of his beloved dog Blondi and forms a tender relationship with Eva Braun (Juliane Kohler). He is humanised, but never sympathetic.

Yet Downfall is not simply a document of Hitler's final days; it is much more about Germany as a whole, and how the country fell into chaos as the Reich was toppled. We gain access into the bunker through Traudl Junge (Alexandra Maria Lara), Hitler's secretary for many years. Out in the increasingly perilous streets of Berlin, Professor Schenck (Christian Berkel) does all he can to help the weak and injured while Hitler Youth assassinate old men fleeing the bombing. Many of the cabinet, including Albert Speer (Heino Ferch) and Hermann Fegelein (Thomas Kretschmann), are desperate to flee and urge their Fuhrer to do the same, while contradicting his orders in the hope of salvaging some sort of peace. Despite the scope of the story, you'll never hear Downfall being referred to as an ensemble piece or a war epic, as it retains a sense of intimacy throughout thanks to Rainer Klaussman's grainy, claustrophobic cinematography, with even the wide-open streets of Berlin feeling oddly suffocating. It's a brave, bold movie, and one that goes about its business with focus and a stern grip on the complex unfolding of events.


Directed by: Oliver Hirschbiegel
Starring: Bruno Ganz, Alexandra Maria Lara, Ulrich Matthes, Juliane Köhler, Christian Berkel, Heino Ferch, Thomas Kretschmann
Country: Germany/Austria/Italy

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,078: 'The Bourne Supremacy' (2004)

When we left Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) at the end of the previous film, The Bourne Identity (2002), he had managed to out-think and out-fight the CIA operatives gunning for his head, and had seemingly found a happy ending for himself in Goa, India with his girlfriend Marie (Franka Potente). But the laws of franchise film-making mean that the shady types hunting him down the last time still want him dead to tie off any loose ends, and Bourne must again use his CIA-trained super-soldier skills to escape anything coming his way. Dumping director Doug Liman turned out to be the wisest choice the producers made. No disrespect to Liman - Identity was a well-made film - but the hiring of Brit Paul Greengrass took the series to a whole new level.

Jason Bourne is still trying to piece together his memories - which appear to him in dreams Manchurian Candidate style - keeping a scrapbook in the hope of unravelling the mystery. One day he notices a man who looks oddly out of place, and Bourne's suspicions turn out to be justified as the man, played by Karl Urban, quickly tries to kill him, accidentally shooting Marie in the crossfire and leaving Bourne once again on the run and trying to figure out the plot against him. As we learn in the opening scene of the film, Bourne has been framed by some Russians for killing CIA agents during an operation overlooked by Deputy Director Pamela Landy (Joan Allen) to obtain some important documents on one of Bourne's previous kills.

The film takes Bourne to Naples, Munich and Moscow, but what makes this series superior to the continent-hopping of James Bond and his quest to bed every woman he comes across is Bourne's skill-set, as well as the gravitas Matt Damon brings to the role. Whether or not he will survive the encounter was never in question (especially with the knowledge that this is part of a book series by Robert Ludlum focusing on the character), but what makes it so thrilling is the way he dodges every bullet fired at him and dispatches every brooding assassin sent to get him. By keeping the action once again grounded, the fight scenes are brutal and messy (Bourne even convincingly beats someone up with a rolled-up magazine). Greengrass brings his famous shaky-cam to the proceedings, and although it occasionally induces sea-sickness, it transports you right in the middle of the fight.

Away from the action, a group of suits similar the ones in the previous film employ every spy trick in their power to track and take down their target, while trying to decipher Bourne's actions and motivations. It's incredibly similar to the plot of Identity, and in many ways to the next film, The Bourne Ultimatum, but you'll find it difficult to care that you're essentially watching the same film again when the action is this good. Greengrass also brings a dramatic edge that Liman failed to infuse into his film, with Bourne seeking out the daughter of a married couple he executed while still working for Treadstone in the hope of seeking forgiveness for his actions. That's not to say that Bourne spends the majority of the film pouting and brooding - the film is too fast-paced to stop and catch its breath for too long - but Damon does some great understated work here, and this is the main attraction, at least to me, of the trilogy.


Directed by: Paul Greengrass
Starring: Matt Damon, Franka Potente, Brian Cox, Joan Allen, Julia Stiles, Karl Urban
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,028: 'H.H. Holmes: America's First Serial Killer' (2004)

Anyone who shares my own morbid fascination with serial killers know that finding a well-made and thoroughly researched documentary feature on the Ted Bundy's and Jeffrey Dahmer's of this world is extremely hard to come by. The grisly subject matter tends to attract the attention of daytime crime channels that churn out hour-long true crime stories that sensationalise the horror to admittedly entertaining degrees (they're a good way to pass an hour), or no-name directors who substitute anything resembling a psychological character study for something all the more exploitative (although there is the odd exception, see 2000's Ed Gein or 2002's Bundy for examples of the kind of duds I'm referring to). John Borowski's H.H. Holmes: America's First Serial Killer is a crude mixture of both.

H.H. Holmes, the notorious mass-murderer made all the more infamous for his carefully constructed 'castle' of labyrinthine corridors and winding staircases that led to various torture chambers and rooms rigged for death, arrived in Chicago in 1886. Landing a job at a chemist, Holmes eventually purchased the business when the owner died, promising the widow to pay her in monthly instalments only for her to never be seen again. Amassing a tidy sum of money through various conning schemes, Holmes constructed his house of horrors, regularly firing the workers after a short period of time to ensure that only he knew the true structure. When the World's Fair arrived in 1983, Holmes preyed upon the tourists who flooded into the city, killing up to an estimated 200 people during his spree.

Running at little over an hour, this cheap-as-chips documentary feels like a stretched-out TV special, repeatedly using the same stock footage and photographs as narrator Tony Jay blandly reads from his script, informing us of facts and theories that a better director than John Borowski would have wound into the narrative in other, more intelligent ways. As Holmes operated so long ago, the little that is actually documented about his activities and the lack of forensic analysis now so taken for granted only adds to the mystery and sheer creepiness of this terrible man, but the documentary, somehow, fails to exploit this, using laughable re-enactments that even fail in comparison to the likes of the Born to Kill? true crime series. If you have a spare half an hour and internet access, you would learn more from Holmes's Wikipedia page than you will from this movie.


Directed by: John Borowski
Narrator: Tony Jay
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #999: 'Kill Bill: Vol. 2' (2004)

While the decision to split Kill Bill, originally intended as a three-hour epic tale of revenge, into two separate movies was greeted by fans with accusations of greed. Whether this is true or whether the full version of Quentin Tarantino's homage to 70's exploitation was simply too much to consume in one sitting, it actually turns out to be a masterstroke. Volumes 1 and 2 incorporate two vastly different styles, both of which allow Tarantino to fully indulge his love for kung-fu movies and spaghetti westerns with ample time and care. These are two different movies, never forgetting that the character linking them together is Uma Thurman's determined The Bride.

Having dispatched O-Ren Ishii (Lucy Liu) and Vernita Green (Vivica A. Fox) in the first film, we first meet The Bride as she drives to her final target - Bill (David Carradine). To even consider this a spoiler would be failing to grasp the movies Tarantino is tipping his hat to, and the director makes a point of this by constantly shifting around the time-line. It's not so much about if she'll achieve her goal, but just how cool it will be when she does. Bill remained off screen for the bulk of Volume 1, seen either stroking his samurai sword and talking menacingly off-camera, but we meet him in his full glory almost instantly in Volume 2, as we are shown an extended version of the events that left The Bride shot in the head and left for dead.

First though, she must face Budd (Michael Madsen) and the one-eyed Elle Driver (Daryl Hannah). Budd is a tough, hard-drinking redneck working as a bouncer when he's not clumsily making margaritas in his trailer, and he is given a generous amount of screen-time and isn't let down by Madsen's gravelly performance. Similar to Tarantino's early films Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994), Budd's story is given a patient build-up before the burst of inevitable violence, portraying him as a beaten man awaiting his death at the hands of the woman he knows is coming for him. Just when his fate seems sealed, Tarantino slaps us in the face and turns his protagonists fortunes on their head, allowing for some down-time as we flash-back to The Bride's training with the formidable Pai Mei (Gordon Liu).

Pai Mei's chapter is the entire saga's crowning achievement, full of ridiculous crash-zooms and beard stroking that manages to poke fun at the genre, while at the same time warmly embracing and even transcending it. This leads The Bride to her face-off with Elle, which is a scene of such ferocity, humour and sheer bad-assery that it more than makes up for the creeping pace. As Bill, Carradine is a revelation, with Tarantino once again pulling an iconic actor out of obscurity to riff on the type of role they became famous for in the first place to deliver the performance of their career. An early version of the script had The Bride and Bill duelling to a sunset backdrop, but the low-key scrap opted for instead seems more fitting. Towards the climax, it seems that Tarantino is struggling with how to end his epic tale of revenge, but some minor bumps don't derail what is undoubtedly the most Tarantino-y of his catalogue, and certainly his most all-out fun.


Directed by: Quentin Tarantino
Starring: Uma Thurman, David Carradine, Michael Madsen, Daryl Hannah, Gordon Liu, Michael Parks, Lucy Liu, Vivica A. Fox
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #809: 'Collateral' (2004)

With Collateral, Michael Mann - a director who was still working at the top of his game back in 2004 - combines his favourite and familiar traits - an ice-cool soundtrack, buckets of visual style, and a conversational showdown as important as the physical one that inevitably follows. It follows one night in the life of Los Angeles cab driver Max (Jamie Foxx), who after accepting a multi-stop fare from the slick-looking Vincent (Tom Cruise), has his life turned upside down. Vincent looks and sounds like a businessman looking to close multiple deals in the course of a few hours, but when a dead body lands on the top of his cab at the first stop, it becomes clear to Max that Vincent is a hired killer.

The two verbally poke and prod each other - Max at Vincent's complete detachment from real-life and the emotional abuse and/or neglect he must have surely suffered to lead him on such a dark path; and Vincent at Max's tendency to procrastinate at every aspect of his life. Max frequently flicks down his sun-visor and stairs at a picture of a desert island, waxing lyrical about his grand plan to set up his own limousine company. At the start of the film, Max drives Justice Department prosecutor Annie (Jada Pinkett Smith) and the two share a spark. He should ask her for her number but he doesn't. Luckily she takes the initiative and gives it to him anyway. Vincent may be a remorseless psychopath, but at least he grabs life by the balls.

Such an engaging character study and a film so packed with marvellously shot set-pieces should lead to an equally great climax, but like Heat (1995), Mann's other L.A.-based crime noir, the film ends on a weak note. Vincent just may be the worst hit-man in cinema history. He's physically capable of taking down multiple foes with fists and weaponry, but his decision-making is laughable at times, and in the end he is forced into a rather bland chase after his prey through a subway. But for the most part, Collateral is thrilling and fun; at it's best when its two leads are simply sitting in the cab and conversing, wonderfully performed by Foxx and Cruise.


Directed by: Michael Mann
Starring: Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx, Jada Pinkett Smith, Mark Ruffalo
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #783: 'Dead Man's Shoes' (2004)

The revenge thriller is a rather tired old goat. Man is wronged, man changes, man gets revenge. That's how it usually plays out. But every now and then a film will come out of the blue, subverting or at least twisting our premature expectations, while still delivering the same thrills we know from the very best of the genre. Positioned somewhere between revenge horror and kitchen-sink drama, Shane Meadows' Dead Man's Shoes is a dark, violent, yet often very funny story of an ex-soldier out to get the group of low-lives who bullied his mentally retarded brother, anchored by two outstanding performances from Paddy Considine and Toby Kebbell.

Richard (Considine) is not a traditional hero. His intentions aren't to use stealth and mystery to confuse and take down his targets; the gang, headed by drug-dealer Sonny (Gary Stretch), figure out who he is straight away, and don't take long to cross his path. Richard tells them to watch out and that he's coming for them, and tells them where to find him. His aggression, combined with Considine's imposing performance, makes for a terrifying character. Richard has shacked up in a nearby farm with his brother Anthony (Kebbell), the victim of Sonny and the gang's cruel sadism. Most of the action stays away from Richard, and we spend most of the time with Herbie (Stuart Wolfenden), Soz (Neil Bell) and Tuff (Paul Sadot), Sonny's low-level drug dealers.

It's in these scenes where Meadows' skill for dialogue and working realism into his actors performances really shines. The gang, with the exception of Sonny, become rather likeable, their idiocy and incompetence making for several laugh-out-loud moments, causing Richard's evolution into the beast of the story more convincing and effective. The rural town in the Peak District in which the film is set plays like a character in itself. At first glance it's an idyllic retreat, a perfect setting for a show like Midsomer Murders, but the film opens it up and reveals it's underlying ugliness, much like the monster surfacing from it's protagonist. It has it's flaws - often the film's budgetary constraints lead to unconvincing moments - but Dead Man's Shoes is raw, unflinching. sad, and, in the end, shocking.


Directed by: Shane Meadows
Starring: Paddy Considine , Gary Stretch, Toby Kebbell, Stuart Wolfenden, Neil Bell, Paul Sadot
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #766: 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)

With Chris Columbus abdicating at the sight of dark material, the Harry Potter was gratefully gobbled up by Alfonso Cuaron, a director having only at that point turned heads with the incredibly sexy Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001). This is a vastly different Potter to that which came before. When his dead parents are insulted by an obnoxious aunt (Pam Ferris), Harry blows her out of the window, kicking his bedroom cupboard in a rage. There's no plinky-plonky music or pie-in-the-face sight gags, and when Harry steps outside of his house, the streets are grey and grim, not a cosy suburban horror show.

After fleeing another run-in with the Dursleys, Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) hops on the Knight Bus, which takes him to the Leaky Cauldron where he is to learn his fate having used magic outside of Hogwarts. Best friends Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) are there waiting for him, when they all learn that convicted serial killer Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) has escaped from notorious prison Azkaban, possibly with Harry in his sights. With the ghostly guardians of Azkaban, the Dementors, surrounding Hogwarts in search of Black, Harry finds his own life in danger, and seeks help from new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and friend of his parents, Professor Lupin (David Thewlis).

With Columbus's kid-friendly approach ditched and Cuaron's more focused direction, the franchise at this point could finally be taken seriously, with real threats finally entering Harry's life, and the trio's characters hitting puberty and becoming more feisty in the process. Cuaron also wisely adapted the book, rather than simply filming the pages, and this is noticeably shorter than it's predecessors despite being the biggest book at this point. Hermione is less precocious, Ron is less gurny, and Daniel Radcliffe finally puts in a decent performance. He isn't perfect, but there's a delightful eccentricity to the actor's mannerisms which make him endearing to watch.

Apart from a climax that makes as little sense as it does in the novel, the story is also more gripping. We finally see Harry's past intertwine with his present, with revelations coming out of the woodwork, and Harry finally starting to learn more about his parents. There's also some genuinely frightening scenes, including the Dementors - hooded, faceless ghouls - and a scene involving a certain character's dangerous affliction. In Cuaron's hands, Harry Potter is genuinely magic, funny when it should be, dark when it needs to be, and it's rather disappointing he didn't go on to direct more of them.


Directed by: Alfonso Cuarón
Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Gary Oldman, Michael Gambon, David Thewlis, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Robbie Coltrane, Timothy Spall
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #730: 'Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy' (2004)

Will Ferrell is a very funny man. He has the ability to squeeze comedy gold out of the raising of an eyebrow or a silly accent, and usually steals whatever film he appears in, regardless of how long he's in it for. Somehow, his movies tend to be bad, relying on juvenile behaviour and frat-house antics for laughs, which would be fine if any real thought was put into it. Anchorman is a sort of different, mixing childish humour with first-class improvisation from some of the most talented comedy performers working at the moment, and featuring one of Ferrell's most inspired creations. Based on real-life anchorman Harold Greene, who had a talent for sharp suits and a formidable 70's 'tache, Ron Burgundy is an egotistical, chauvinistic and narcissistic ass, but boy can he read the news.

In the male-dominated workspace of 70's 'action news', Burgundy and his troupe are the cream of the crop in San Diego. Burgundy delivers the news, Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd) is the lecherous field reporter, 'Champ' Kind (David Koechner) is the loud-mouthed sexist sports reporter, and Brick Tamland (Steve Carell) is an innocent with an IQ of 48, delivering the weather and being led astray by the groups antics. Everything seems harmonious until the arrival of the beautiful and ambitious Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate). Ron falls for her and she for him, until the word 'diversity' is introduced into the newsroom, and Ron finds himself with a new co-anchor.

Ron thinks that 'diversity' is an old wooden ship used in the Civil War era, a joke no doubt the product of multiple takes and the actors playing around with their lines. Due to this heavy reliance of improvisation, the film is scattershot and random, and by playing with the rules of random, as many jokes fall flat as they cause you to burst out in fits of laughter. So for every spontaneous accapella version of 'Afternoon Delight' or Burgundy wailing over the loss of his beloved dog Baxter, we have Koecher trying to squeeze laughs out of an unfunny character or an extended joke about Fanatana wearing Sex Panther, a rare and banned after shave which just happens to smell awful.

Anchorman's main success comes from, surprisingly, Christina Applegate. It was one of the first modern comedies to really put some thought into its female character, and rather than her playing the role of whiny other half trying to get her man to behave and grow up, she is vital in bringing to life this dark era of male-dominated office spaces, and she accepts Ron for the buffoon that he is. In the ten years since its release, it has garnered a huge cult following, and led to the release of it's sequel, Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues earlier this year. Though I don't share the hype surrounding this film, it's still a consistently funny oddity, and most probably Ferrell's best comedy work.


Directed by: Adam McKay
Starring: Will Ferrell, Christina Applegate, Paul Rudd, Steve Carell, David Koechner, Fred Willard, Vince Vaughn
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #612: 'The Terminal' (2004)

Film-makers frequently find themselves going back to basics or back to their roots in order to find inspiration, rather than seeking innovation. Two of Hollywood's arguably most powerful men - Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks - did precisely this back in 2004 with the release of The Terminal, apparently based on the 18-year stay at Charles de Gaulle airport experienced by Iranian refugee Mehran Karimi Nasseri (although the film-makers and producers have failed to acknowledge it). Spielberg had been striving for bid-budget, CGI-laden blockbusters such as A.I.: Artificial Intelligence (2001) and Minority Report (2002), and historical epics like Amistad (1997) and Saving Private Ryan (1998), before he made The Terminal. Although those films were generally good to very good, Spielberg returned to something more simple and heartfelt; something in the vein of Frank Capra or Billy Wilder, who combined sentiment and romanticism to such a glorious effect. Well, to be frank, he shouldn't have bothered.

Victor Navorski (Hanks) arrives at JFK International Airport from his (fictional) home country of Krakozhia, with the intention of getting the autograph of a famous jazz musician who was loved by his late father in New York. Though what he doesn't know is that Krakozhia's government has been overthrown, leading do a devastating civil war. This puts Head of CPB Frank Dixon (Stanley Tucci) in a difficult situation, as America no longer recognises Krakozhia as a country, voiding Victor's passport and cancelling his right to leave the airport doors. So Victor sets up home in the terminal, making money by returning baggage carts back to their holders for 25 cents a cart, and befriending the various oddballs and desperado's in the airport. He also meets flight attendant Amelia (Catherine Zeta-Jones), an emotionally unstable woman who is in a relationship with a married man. Despite Dixon's frequent attempts to thwart Victor's activities, Victor becomes extremely popular with the airport's inhabitants by performing various good deeds.

If there is one thing that Spielberg's movies are frequently lambasted for, it is for their cloying sentimentality. Even his darkest output, such as Minority Report and Munich (2005) had their moments of emotional embraces to the sound of a string score that felt shoe-horned in. With The Terminal, Spielberg has gone all-out with the rom-com aesthetic. The result is a manipulating and almost fraudulent throw-back to the great Cary Grant films of the 1930's, capturing none of the magic of Spielberg's idols. Hanks is good value as always, but the character of Victor is almost offensive in it's stereotyping of the simple, almost idiotic foreigner.

The collection of supporting characters don't fair much better either, with Dixon's Hitler-esque CPB man raising questions as to the reasons behind his hatred for Victor. Everyone else seems to like him, even his own men, so is he doing it for career progression? His own soon-to-be-retiring boss informs him that empathy and humanity are key to the job, and if Dixon needs to be told this, then how has he gotten as far as he has up to now? Zeta-Jones's Andrea at least puts a different spin on the familiar rom-com heroine, with her erratic behaviour and questionable decision-making at least adding a bit of dimension. The most impressive aspect of the film is actually the set, built from scratch after no airport agreed to allow Spielberg to film for such an extended amount of time, and this, if anything, adds a flow to the way the film is captured. But when the set is the best thing about a film, you know you're in trouble, and this is undoubtedly one of Spielberg's worst efforts.


Directed by: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Tom Hanks, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Stanley Tucci, Chi McBride, Diego Luna, Zoe Saldana
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #494: 'Layer Cake' (2004)

This British gangster film was originally intended for director Guy Ritchie's typically heavy-handed approach, but thankfully, duty took him elsewhere and the gig landed in producer Matthew Vaughn's hands. Vaughn is now well-established amongst the Hollywood elite, having since gone on to direct the underrated Stardust (2007), the hugely entertaining Kick-Ass (2010), and the rather hit-and-miss X-Men: First Class (2011), but he made his name with this now-cult and extremely stylish little thriller that also paved the way for star Daniel Craig to become James Bond and an A-lister in one swoop. Vaughn's ability to stamp his quirky humour onto relatively familiar grounds is clear from the off, with Craig nameless protagonist (credited simply as XXXX) giving us the narration to his world, only this protagonist is about to get a massive life-lesson, and one that is quite suitable to our times.

XXXX is a successful cocaine dealer who, along with his cohorts Gene (Colm Meaney), Morty (George Harris), Terry (Tamer Hassan) and Clarkie (Tom Hardy), is on the verge of making the big deal that could see his retirement. "Have a plan, and stick to it," he tells us, only crime boss Jimmy Price (Kenneth Cranham) has different ideas. He sets XXXX the task of finding the daughter of larger crime lord Eddie Temple (Michael Gambon), a promising girl who has taken to drugs and since gone missing. Meanwhile, in Amsterdam, cocky gangster Duke (Jamie Foreman) has made a huge ecstasy heist but has stolen from the wrong person. All roads lead to XXXX, who finds himself pulled into a labyrinthine crime world where he starts to truly know his place.

This world of loud-mouthed gangsters and powerful old men in expensive suits that London (and the UK film industry) seems to enjoy mixing itself up with is frankly tiresome and has been done to death (especially in the straight-to-DVD market). Yet Layer Cake has less of the colourful, wise-cracking cock-er-neys and slow-motion bloodshed of Guy Ritchie's back catalogue, and shares more with the sleek, neon-lit world of Michael Mann. Although it does quite often border on style-over-substance, and the multi-stranded plot is not quite as clever as it thinks it is, the film is funny, entertaining and frequently surprising. The final moments especially pull the rug from beneath you when you think everything is nicely wrapped up.

The title refers to the social stratification of XXXX's world, and shows that it applies even to the criminal underworld, as well as business, social and political systems. XXXX thinks of himself as top dog, and in the opening scenes, we see him coolly going about his business - shades on, snappy suit, and he even takes the girl (Sienna Miller) of Duke's ridiculous nephew Sidney (Ben Whishaw). But his world, like our world, doesn't quite work like that. In the past year or so, we as the public have learned that we are mere cockroaches in a crushing capitalist country that vomits luxury onto the rich and powerful, and steals from the tax-payer. Like us, XXXX is chewed up by the system, giving him a slap-in-the-face dose of realism that he didn't see coming. The system is embodied by the towering Eddie Temple, in an effortlessly brilliant performance by a ridiculously fake-tanned Michael Gambon. This aspect is the main reason why this film stands out amongst its imitators. An introduction to an interesting film-maker and its intriguing star.


Directed by: Matthew Vaughn
Starring: Daniel Craig, Colm Meaney, George Harris, Kenneth Cranham, Jamie Foreman, Michael Gambon, Ben Whishaw, Sienna Miller, Dexter Fletcher
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #480: 'In the Realms of the Unreal' (2004)

Henry Darger, an unassuming, reclusive janitor, working and living in Chicago, died at the age of 81. To his landlady and neighbours, he was a simple man, who rarely conversed with them, and died in 1973 a lonely man, with no family or friends to speak of. Before he passed in a nursing home, a neighbour visited him, telling him that he had seen Darger's work, and was deeply impressed. He replied: "It's too late now." His landlady, Kiyoko Lerner, entered Darger's small flat to clear it and found, to her amazement, rows of manuscript, along with hundreds of accompanying paintings. The book, a fantasy world constructed over decades, was over 15,000 pages long, and completely unique to the unknown inner world of the man.

Darger had created a totally specific world, titled 'The Realms of the Unreal', that told the story of the Vivian girls, and their adventures during many Christian-led wars, the Glandeco-Angelinnian War, caused by the child slave rebellion. The paintings, constructed with various mediums and methods, illustrated this fantasy world, using collage, ink and paint, and he collected images, xeroxing many particular images over and over, to portray his beloved Vivian girls. With no exterior life, and a lack of social skills, Darger had lived completely within this inner world, where he kept intricate details and charts detailing the events in the "realm", and documented the wars - including names, dates of soldiers deaths, the costs of each of these wars: immensely detailed, impeccably assembled.

Whilst the actual reality of Darger's life is difficult to portray - only three photographs of him exist - he did begin a diary of his life after he retired. His life was one of desolation, separated from life, he was a devout Christian; he seemingly never had a relationship with someone of the opposite sex, but wanted deeply to have children. Many of the images he left behind hint at a man, whose asexuality, seems to be more about naivety. Often, naked little girls are portrayed in the paintings as having penises. This could point to a complete lack of knowledge of gender difference. However, without any actual input from the man, it is difficult to fully understand, and we can only speculate - it would be easy to accuse the man of unnatural desires, but I think this may be a cruel conclusion.

Jessica Yu's film is constructed of interviews with the few neighbours (I can't say they knew him, as clearly no one did), and a narration by Dakota Fanning - Larry Pine also recites passages from the Darger diary, expressing his inner desires. Visually, Yu uses Darger's paintings, animating the figures, and constructs a narrative largely connected with the stories in the book. It is an incredibly touching, disturbing, enlightening and beautiful story, but one which is tainted by many insidious conclusions and speculations. I saw this about five years ago, and it never really left my mind. The opportunity to watch it again filled me with questions as to whether it would touch me quite as much. It's hard not to be moved by this story. After all, Darger created one of the most colossal, detailed, and epic pieces of outsider art that I have ever encountered. A portrait of a damaged, complex person, who never really had the opportunity to share his body of work, until his death. Posthumously, his work is now displayed for the public. In 2001 the Henry Darger Centre was opened in The American Folk Art Museum in New York.


Directed by: Jessica Yu
Voices: Larry Pine, Dakota Fanning
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #334: 'Guerrilla: The Taking of Patty Hearst' (2004)

In 1973, a left-wing militant group calling themselves the Symbionese Liberation Army shot and murdered black school superintendent Marcus Foster and wounded his deputy. Led by prison escapee and black political activist Donald DeFreeze, Foster's murder was a confused statement about fascism, apparently revealing Foster to be a pawn in what was essentially an ethically corrupt school system. The following year, they kidnapped newspaper heiress Patty Hearst from her home and caused a media sensation. The SLA made demands that her father Randolph Hearst pay to feed the starving, while the media storm gathered even more momentum. It reached its peak when recordings of Patty were released to the media declaring her sympathy towards the SLA, and her wish to join them.

The 1970's was a time of revolution and a new political awareness. Like the Red Army Faction (or the Baader-Meinhof Group) in Germany, the children of the 1970's were children of Nazi's and, in America, of blatant political corruption (the Watergate scandal, for example). The SLA were inspired by Marxism, anti-Capitalism, and Che Guevara's revolution in Cuba, believing that America would benefit from an equal society, and from the eradication of corruption and racism. "Death to the fascist insect that prays upon the life of the people!" was one of their motto's, and although it is easy to sympathise with their relatively naive hopes and views, the SLA certainly went about their business in a strange way. They committed murder, bank robberies and kidnapping - acts that certainly aren't beneficial to the people.

Sadly, the former SLA members that are interviewed in the film are not those that experienced the Patty Hearst scenario first hand (those people are either dead or in jail), so the interviewees don't draw from personal experiences and are quick to distance themselves from the darker aspects of the SLA. Hearst herself is sadly absent from the film, which is a shame, because as a result, she gets off relatively lightly. She is now a part-time actress and media darling, which is quite sickening given what she did. As to whether she was brain-washed or she was acting on her own accord is left unexplored. Robert Stone's documentary, is, however, well-constructed and contains plenty of fascinating archive footage. Plus, this is one of the most fascinating stories in America's recent history, and a poignant commentary on the role of the media in creating national treasures out of scandal and sensationalism.


Directed by: Robert Stone
Starring: Patty Hearst
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie