Review #1,374: 'Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol' (2011)

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol continues the series' trend of introducing a new director with each new instalment, hoping that a pair of fresh eyes will prevent the franchise from growing stagnant. A few eyebrows were raised when it was announced that J.J. Abrams' successor would be none other than Brad Bird, director of such animated classics The Iron Giant, The Incredibles and Ratatouille, with what would be his first live-action picture. However, it becomes clear early on that Bird is more than up for the task, with his background in colourful animated efforts (including one of cinema's all-time best superhero adventures) perhaps inspiring him to make something all the more physical. This fourth entry is the most action-packed yet, and carries a hell of a punch, with one jaw-dropping set-piece in particular blowing any stunts from the previous films completely out of the water.

IMF agent Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) is spending time locked away in a Moscow prison, keeping tabs on Bogdan (Miraj Grbic), a fellow inmate who may posses vital information on a man known as 'Cobalt'. With Cobalt now in possession of a file containing Russian nuclear launch codes, time is running out, so agents Jane Carter (Paula Patton) and the recently-promoted Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg) break him out in order to infiltrate the Kremlin and gather information on their mysterious target. During the mission however, a bomb is detonated, leaving the Kremlin in ruins and Hunt and his team, who are the main suspects, disavowed by their government. Despite IMF's reputation lying in tatters, the agency Secretary (Tom Wilkinson) tasks Hunt with continuing his hunt for Cobalt, who has been revealed to be Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist), a nuclear strategist who feels that an extinction event is long overdue.

If there is a major flaw in Ghost Protocol, it's Nyqvist's villain. While Philip Seymour Hoffman was brought in last time to truly jangle the nerves, Hendricks isn't given enough screen-time or a clear enough motivation to make much of an impression, despite being played by a damn fine actor. This does, however, open more space for the team itself, who are eventually joined by intelligence analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner). Their mission takes them across the globe, and eventually to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, where of course Hunt must scale the highest building in the world in the most vertigo-inducing sequence ever captured on film. With Hunt wielding only a pair of high-tech suction gloves to save him from certain death, Bird uses every camera angle and editing technique to make it a moment to dread for anybody with a fear of heights. Once again, Tom Cruise does all of his own stunts, demonstrating why he one of the most respected actors around, despite the inherent craziness of his personal life. It's basically none stop action surrounding the flimsiest of McGuffins, but when the fights and stunts are choreographed so spectacularly, it's easy to forgive the picture's flaws and simply go with it.


Directed by: Brad Bird
Starring: Tom Cruise, Paula Patton, Simon Pegg, Jeremy Renner, Michael Nyqvist, Léa Seydoux
Country: USA/United Arab Emirates/Czech Republic/Russia/India/Canada

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,348: 'Red State' (2011)

By 2010, even die-hard followers of writer/director Kevin Smith were starting to think he'd lost the plot. After a string of flops and outright disasters that included the likes of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Jersey Girl and Cop Out (although Zack and Miri Make a Porno was pretty good), it looked as though the comic-book enthusiast was half-arsing it, and was never going to reach the dizzy heights of his earlier output like Clerks and Chasing Amy. It was perplexing, as anybody who has ever heard his podcasts or any of his impassioned Q&A sessions will know Smith as a highly intelligent and articulate guy with a real knowledge of his craft. But he hit back at his doubters in 2011 with Red State, a horror/thriller with a stellar cast and a real buzz surrounding it (generated by Smith's self-promotion). The result was still divisive among critics and audiences, but it managed to win back the faith of those who felt that Smith was one of the defining directors of the 1990s, as well as winning some new fans in the process.

The horror in Red State comes from fire-and-brimstone preacher Abin Cooper (Michael Parks), the leader of the Five Points Trinity Church, a sort of Westboro Baptist Church-style hate mob who picket the funerals of homosexuals. Meanwhile, a group of horny high-school boys arrange a date with a prostitute online, who will only agree to the hook-up if she can sleep with all three of them at the same time. Desperate to get their end away, they turn up at the trailer of Sarah Cooper (Melissa Leo), the bat-shit crazy daughter of Abin. They are drugged and taken away, waking up inside the Five Points Church just in time to witness the murder of a young gay man. He is bound to a cross in clingfilm while Abin spews hate speech, before being shot in the head and tossed down a trapdoor. It looks like we're in familiar territory as the boys try desperately to escape before they themselves are displayed in front of the wide-eyed congregation.

Only Red State takes a sudden tonal shift around the half-way mark, moving the action away from the captives and towards the efforts of ATF agent Joseph Keenan (John Goodman) - who is alerted to the Church's activities when a local deputy is shot dead - to diffuse a potentially catastrophic gun-fight akin to Waco. There are plenty of extremely interesting ideas Smith wants to explore here, but unlike his brilliant and elegant talks, he tackles them with a messy combination of violence and chaos. It's clear he's simply fed up with religious hypocrisy and the country's failure to tackle the problem, and you can certainly feel the anger, but you get the sense that the point could have been made with more care and restraint. In fact, the only sign of restraint he shows is at the climax, which is precisely the time he should have gone for broke. Still, Red State is enjoyable for what it is, and delivers a fair amount of surprises. Parks, who sadly passed last year, gives the performance of his career, truly relishing the chance to embrace his inner monster. Smith hasn't really kicked on from here, choosing instead to dabbled in television projects, but at least we know the Fatman still has it in him.


Directed by: Kevin Smith
Starring: Michael Parks, Melissa Leo, John Goodman, Michael Angarano, Kerry Bishé, Kyle Gallner, Nicholas Braun, Stephen Root, Kevin Pollak
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,265: 'Cars 2' (2011)

Pixar's Cars is now remembered as one of the great studio's rare misfires; a formulaic animated movie that had far more to offer to the children in the audience than to the adults paying for them to be there (although I think it's one of their most misunderstood movies and well worth a re-visit). Despite this, it was a box-office smash and a dream in terms of merchandising. A few years ago, Pixar may have thought twice about extending the story of Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and the town of Radiator Springs without having something new to say, but ever since Disney took over, they've taken a more relaxed attitude towards bending to audience demand and churning out an underdeveloped and unworthy sequel. The result is Cars 2, a mess of a movie with an absence of any real laughs that feels like a straight-to-DVD short stretched out over 106 minutes.

Now a four-time Piston Cup champion, the world-famous Lightning McQueen returns to Radiator Springs to see his old friends, much to the delight of best chum Mater (Larry the Cable Guy). However, formula champion Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro) challenges McQueen to join him in the World Grand Prix, an event created by Sir Miles Axelrod (Eddie Izzard) to advertise his new fuel Allinol. McQueen, along with Mater, Luigi (Tony Shalhoub), Guido (Guido Quaroni), Fillmore (Lloyd Sherr) and Sarge (Paul Dooley), heads to Tokyo, where Mater's buffoonish behaviour starts to grate on the racing star. Meanwhile, weapons designer Professor Zundapp (Thomas Kretschmann) and his cronies are taking out cars using an electromagnetic pulse in an attempt to scupper Axelrod's plans and secure oil profits. This catches the attention of international super-spy Finn McMissile (Michael Caine) and his partner Holley Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer), who mistake Mater for a fellow spy and hire the clueless tow truck to help with their mission.

This may sound like a bold move for a franchise built on low-key themes of friendship and humility around a traditional fish-out-of-water story, and Cars 2 fleetingly captures the imagination as McMissile swings onto an enemy oil rig, gadgets at the ready. But this is no longer Lightning McQueen's story. Instead, they push Mater, the comic relief best served in tiny doses, front and centre. Not only do his shenanigans increasingly annoy, they are also painfully unfunny. Many of the memorable supporting cast from the first movie are either heavily sidelined or given the boot altogether, and the story is so disjointed that it's difficult to keep up with the endless roster of forgettable, newly-introduced characters. Kids will love it though, and that's all that really matters when it comes to box-office receipts. There's enough colour, slapstick and racing action to keep them  on their seats, and the animation again is truly wonderful. While this may get a pass if released by Dreamworks, mediocrity never used to be on Pixar's radar, and the high standards are still expected. One need only look at their Toy Story trilogy to see how inspired their sequels can be, which makes the middling antics of Cars 2 all the more crushing.


Directed by: John Lasseter
Voices: Owen Wilson, Larry the Cable Guy, Michael Caine, Emily Mortimer, Eddie Izzard, John Turturro, Thomas Kretschmann, Bonnie Hunt
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,182: 'Hellraiser: Revelations' (2011)

There was once, way back, a little horror movie called Hellraiser. From the mind of English writer Clive Barker, the movie took place within a dark world in which the Lament Configuration existed: a puzzle-box fascinating to anyone with an affection for mind games, and irresistible to those looking to push the boundaries of earthly pleasures. It also opened a gateway to Hell, in which a gang of sadistic demons named the Cenobites roamed in search of thrill-seeking fools to prey upon. It is now an established horror classic, and naturally spawned sequels, each declining in quality as the movies were farted out by a Dimension Films keen to keep hold of the rights to a franchise they could someday reboot. A matter of weeks before the rights expired, Dimension, now owned by the Weinstein Company, rushed production on the ninth entry in the series. The result, dubbed Revelations, was such cinematic cancer that Barker took to Twitter page to distance himself from the tripe.

Steven (Nick Eversman) and Nico (Jay Gillespie) are two young horndogs who escape their middle-class family for the seediness of Mexico, where they hope to guzzle tequila, fuck prostitutes, and generally act like annoying arseholes. A year later, the boys haven't been heard from, and their two families gather for dinner and drinks. Steven's mother Sarah (Devon Sorvari), via a private detective, has obtained her son's video camera, which shows Nico opening the Lament Configuration and being approached by Pinhead (Stephan Smith Collins) and his cronies. We flash back and forth in time between Steven being forced to lure victims for his friend in order to regenerate his body and skin, and the family's utter shock at Steven's sudden re-appearance and increasingly bizarre behaviour.

Series regular and all-round horror icon Doug Bradley turned the movie down. Despite having to straight-face his way through Rick Bota's torturous sequels - which were already taking enough of a dump on Barker's mythology - he took one look at the script and walked away. Newcomer Collins already faced an impossible task of filling such iconic shoes, but with little to do other than rattle a few chains and donning some terrible make-up, he comes across like a chubby kid in cosplay making his own movie at home. The acting is unspeakably bad, with Eversman in particular failing to convince as an actual human person. Director Victor Garcia doesn't seem interested in even half-arsing a set-piece, with the majority of time spent with Steven's cardboard parents fretting over their blood-spattered emo child. There was only one thing in mind when this celluloid sneeze was bungled together: money. A vision that was once so fresh and shocking now represents a studio at its greedy worst, disrespecting the artist who created it all and the fans who love him for it.


Directed by: Victor Garcia
Starring: Steven Brand, Nick Eversman, Tracey Fairaway, Jay Gillespie, Stephan Smith Collins
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,150: 'The Skin I Live In' (2011)

The work of lauded Spanish writer/director Pedro Almodovar has always been relatively unclassifiable. While his movies clearly bare his fingerprints, the tone can often switch between high drama and comedy, tragedy and farce, restrained and sexually liberated, and often within the same scene. 'Melodrama' is the tag he usually receives, but his vision is far more complex than that. The Skin I Live In, a film which reunites him with actor Antonio Banderas 22 years after Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (1989) is perhaps his most genre-conscious yet. It's a teasing thriller cleverly disguised as a horror, taking inspiration from classics and art-house pieces that explored both the beauty and horror of the human form, and our eagerness to tamper with it.

The reserved and clearly mad plastic surgeon Robert Ledgard (Banderas) is on the verge of a breakthrough in the development of a synthetic human skin; one that avoids blemishing and has a resistance to mosquito bites and even fire. While his ethics are questioned by his peers, he also holds a terrible secret. At his home, he keeps a beautiful woman named Vera (Elena Anaya) locked away in a white room surrounded by cameras. The images are shown throughout the house, and Robert usually watches with fascination and desire on a huge screen that takes up most of the wall its perched upon. His loyal housekeeper Marilia (Marisa Paredes) also seems to harbouring a secret, and when her violent son Zeca (Roberto Alamo) returns, he sets off a sequence of events that will affect the lives of everyone involved. To give any more of the plot away would be to reveal too much, and Almodovar is happy to tease us by jumping back and forth between the past, present and the not-too-distant past.

It could be argued that this technique is a cheap tactic, but Almodovar wants to keep us from making any knee-jerk judgements until we've fully grasped the mindset of the characters. The movie goes to some seriously twisted places, and would perhaps be laughable if the events weren't so masterfully and elegantly pieced together. The doctor is terribly mad - this is evident early on - but Almodovar is clearly intrigued and seduced by Ledgard's dedication to his craft and his obsession over his creation. Banderas is brilliant in the role and reveals a more reserved and darker side to the persona seen in his American movies, as is Anaya, who manages to exercise a range of emotions through those stunning brown eyes of hers. If you enjoyed the themes explored in the likes of Georges Franju's Eyes Without a Face (1960), Hiroshi Teshigahara's The Face of Another (1966) and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, then The Skin I Live In will no doubt fascinate you as it wanders into some incredibly dark places.


Directed by: Pedro Almodóvar
Starring: Antonio Banderas, Elena Anaya, Marisa Paredes, Jan Cornet, Roberto Álamo
Country: Spain

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,140: 'Midnight in Paris' (2011)

The sheer volume of prolific writer/director/actor Woody Allen's back catalogue means that any new work will always have audiences comparing them to his earlier, more universally-acclaimed pictures. Born in 1935, it has been over fifty years since his first peek behind the camera with What's Up, Tiger Lily? (1966), and he still pumps out roughly a film per year. The declining quality doesn't help either, with (before Midnight in Paris) his only truly excellent film being the incredibly sexy Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008) since 1999's charming Sweet and Lowdown. Perhaps he had the idea for years, but it felt like Allen may be having a sly pop at the nostalgia-fiends feeding off his past glories with Midnight in Paris, a heart-warming and funny exploration of a writer pining for a bygone age.

Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) is a successful Hollywood screenwriter holidaying in Paris with his fiancee Inez (Rachel McAdams). He is also struggling with his first novel, about a man working in a nostalgia shop, and his bride-to-be isn't helping matters by insisting they spend time with her rich, conservative parents and her annoying, know-it-all friend Paul (Michael Sheen). Gil feels like he belongs in a different decade, namely 1920's Paris, where the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald and Salvador Dali enjoyed decadent parties and frequented the boisterous bars. On a walk one night, Gil is approach by an old-fashioned taxi as the clock strikes midnight, and the passengers beckon him to join them. Soon enough, he is chatting with the likes of Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston) and his wife Zelda (Alison Pill), as Cole Porter (Yves Heck) plays piano.

As Gil's nightly visits to the 1920's play out, a wealth of famous faces bring other famous faces to life. The likes of Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll), Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates) and Dali (Adrien Brody) all brush shoulders with the awestruck writer, as well as the mysterious Adriana (Marion Cotillard), a muse of Picasso who catches his eye. The fantastic performances aside - Stoll is a particular revelation - Paris itself is a star of the movie, akin to what Allen did may times with his New York-set films. It's certainly overly-romanticised, but this only serves to heighten Gil's sense of wonder, and he is hopeless romantic after all. Midnight in Paris is Allen's wittiest, warmest and most effortlessly entertaining films since 1994's Bullets Over Broadway. It may be difficult to avoid comparing this to the director's classic works, but Midnight in Paris sits easily as one of his best.


Directed by: Woody Allen
Starring: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard, Kurt Fuller, Mimi Kennedy, Corey Stoll, Michael Sheen, Tom Hiddleston, Alison Pill, Kathy Bates
Country: Spain/USA/France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,082: 'Into the Abyss' (2011)

In 2001, teenagers Michael Perry and Jason Burkett were arrested and charged with a triple-homicide shortly after an intense shootout with the police. They were convicted of murdering 50-year old nurse Sandra Stotler, her sixteen year old son Adam, and his friend Jeremy Richardson. They shot and killed Sandra with a shotgun in her garage so they could steal her valuable red Camaro, and later murdered the two teenagers to obtain the keys to the gate of their middle-class community estate. As a result, Perry was sentenced to die by lethal injection, and Burkett was given a life sentence.

Just how one culprit can be slated to die while the other gets to spend their life behind bars for the same crime is just one of the many questions raised in Werner Herzog's objective documentary on capital punishment. We meet Perry early on, child-like and God-fearing, just 8 days before he is due to die. During this meeting, Herzog reveals his own feelings about the death penalty (he's strictly against it) and even tells the inmate that he doesn't like him very much, but that he also respects everyone's humanity and point of view. The film is not a condemnation of Death Row, but a meditation, and Herzog simply sits back and allows the story to tell itself through interviews from all sides and sporadic narration.

Although it does cover the crime itself in detail, Into the Abyss is not a re-investigation, but tells the story of the horrifying events back in 2001 juxtaposed with interviews from 2010 to allow us to make up our own mind and absorb the devastating affects such an act of brutality can cause. The most heart-breaking moment comes from the interview with Burkett's father, a prisoner himself, as he comes to terms with his own role in his son's fate. We learn of the events that attributed to his boy's character and eventual destiny, and wonder if society failed him. We then see how the crime left Sandra Stotler's daughter completely alone in life, and wonder why such a monster like Burkett should be allowed to live. You may find yourself discussing the topic in depth afterwards, but on hearing Perry's final words to the victim's families before he was given a lethal dose, I could not bring myself to believe that watching him die would ever bring them inner peace.


Directed by: Werner Herzog
Starring: Werner Herzog, Michael Perry, Jason Burkett
Country: USA/UK/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,036: 'Tyrannosaur' (2011)

Having done some of his best work with director Shane Meadows, it's no surprise that first-time director Paddy Considine turned to the darkest areas of the human soul to find a story that is both violent and romantic, without ever confusing the two. The Meadows/Considine collaborations A Room for Romeo Brass (1999) and Dead Man's Shoes (2004) were an unsettling mixture of mental anguish and kitchen-sink drama, but Considine's debut, Tyrannosaur, keeps the tone firmly within the boundaries of the Ken Loach School of Gritty Film-Making, which help make this often gentle tale of two broken souls finding common ground often difficult to sit through.

An expansion of Considine's BAFTA award-winning short Dog Altogether, Tyrannosaur follows Joseph (Peter Mullan), a heavy-drinking and unemployed widower with extreme anger issues. We first meet him being thrown out of a pub following an unseen altercation, after which he kicks his dog to death in the street in a blind rage. Further anti-social behaviour sees him end up in a charity shop owned by God-fearing Hannah (Olivia Colman). Joseph is abusive and possibly dangerous, but she decides to help him anyway. Hannah's apparently comfortable middle-class life is at odds with the tougher upbringing experienced by Joseph, and he initially scolds her for it. Yet as the charity shop evolves into something of a safe haven for Joseph, he comes to learn that Hannah's marriage to James (Eddie Marsan) is an abusive one, and that she has her own demons to face.

The film certainly doesn't pull its punches. From the opening scene of witnessing the protagonist of the story brutally kill his own animal to a graphic rape later in the movie, Tyrannosaur is uncomfortable viewing but is never out to simply shock. The character of Joseph was based on Considine's father, but rather than being a carousel of unpleasant experiences torn from the directors memories, the film instead ponders whether a life wasted can be redeemed. Joseph and Hannah may seem to be complete opposites, but their shared disappointment in the life they have led and the suffering they have endured makes for a romantic bond that is both believable and profound. The relationship is given extra weight by the performances of the two leads. Mullan is uniformly excellent in a type of role he has done before, but Colman, who was up to this point of her career mainly known for her comedy work, is a revelation. An impressive debut work from an actor I have admired since I first saw him back in '99.


Directed by: Paddy Considine
Starring: Peter Mullan, Olivia Colman, Eddie Marsan, Ned Dennehy
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #987: 'The Hangover Part II' (2011)

Todd Phillips' approach to part two of his surprise comedy smash The Hangover (2009) is that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. The original made bona fide stars out of its lead trio and grossed half a billion dollars in the process, so a sequel was always going to be on the cards. The simple formula of the hapless heroes waking up from a stag night of drink, drugs and debauchery to find the groom missing and a variety of clues lying around to help them work out just what the hell happened felt fresh, and the natural charisma of its stars, particularly Zach Galifianakis, made for a hilarious experience.

By sticking to the formula, Phillips has forced himself to a corner where the details have to bigger and more outlandish. Instead of Vegas, Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms) and Alan (Galifianakis) are in Thailand to celebrate Stu's upcoming wedding to Lauren (Jamie Chung). After a planned quiet night on the beach with a beer and marshmallows, they wake up in a grimy hotel room in Bangkok with no memory of the night before and inexplicably in the presence of gangster Mr. Chow (Ken Jeung) from the first film. When Chow seemingly overdoses on cocaine, they are left to piece things together themselves.

If this was a stand-alone movie without the existence of its predecessor, then this probably would have been a winner. While its frequently goes overboard with the crass humour, its consistently amusing without succeeding in being quite so laugh-out-loud as the first movie, thanks mainly again to Galifianakis, whose man-child Alan is the funniest aspect of the film. Yet while his naivety and plain stupidity was so endearing in the original, the sequel also takes Alan to increasingly dark places. Here, he is not so much social inept but dangerously insane to the point that he becomes occasionally outright unlikeable.

And this is the main issue - replacing charm and goofiness with extreme humour. Stu was missing a tooth in the first film, but this time he wakes up with a Mike Tyson tribal tattoo on his face. Rather than Tyson's tiger, we have a chain-smoking drug-mule monkey. Rather than finding Doug (Justin Bartha) vanished, they lose Lauren's prodigal younger brother Teddy (Mason Lee), to which the only clue to his participation is his severed finger. And having previously married a stripper, Stu discovers that - in the most uncomfortably unfunny scene - he has been sodomised by a ladyboy. Add to the mix a sub-plot involving gangster Kingsley (Paul Giamatti) and his search for Chow, the film spends too much time away from the hapless threesome's interplay in favour of watching their reactions to a variety of cruel situations.


Directed by: Todd Phillips
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis, Justin Bartha, Ken Jeong, Paul Giamatti
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #980: 'Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows' (2011)

In 2009 Sherlock Holmes was re-imagined by Guy Ritchie as an ass-kicking and mentally unstable private investigator with a weakness for a variety of mind-altering substances. Played by Robert Downey Jr., Holmes was Iron Man without the vast fortune, super-suit and fashionable beard, but with the same genius-level intellect, capable of predicting the exact outcome of a fight with a foe before the first punch is thrown. Though heavily compromised by Ritchie's sledgehammer subtlety and love for annoying Cockney geezers, it was still an entertaining take on an extremely familiar character, with Downey Jr. at his twitchy best and demonstrating a convincing English accent.

A Game of Shadows, the bloated sequel rushed into production after the international success of its predecessor, turns the doctor from idiosyncratic eccentric to a babbling pantomime. When we meet Holmes, he is rescuing his flame Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams) from a bomb intended for somebody else. The package was given to her by the scheming Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris), and after her next meeting with him, she disappears. On the eve of his wedding, Dr. Watson (Jude Law) arrives at Baker Street to find Holmes deep into investigating a splurge of seemingly unrelated murders and business acquisitions linked to Moriarty, and at Watson's bachelor party, the two encounter a gypsy woman named Simza (Noomi Rapace), the intended recipient of the letter that accompanied the bomb.

Without any sign of the storytelling flair of the books, A Game of Shadows becomes little more than a series of punch-ups, shoot-outs and inane exchanges between Holmes and his trusted Watson. At one point, the heroes are fired at by an increasingly ridiculous arsenal of machine guns as trees shatter and fireballs explode around them in ultra slo-mo. Any resemblance to one of literatures most beloved characters is lost, and it feels instead like you're watching a movie about The Transporter's British granddad, albeit with a touch more style. Mad Men's Harris is impressive as Holmes's most challenging foe, but Rapace's character is so redundant that she is reduced to just a pretty face for the poster. Shockingly, the main problem is Downey Jr., whose hyperactive shtick is as tiresome as the plot he is caught up in.


Directed by: Guy Ritchie
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Jude Law, Noomi Rapace, Jared Harris, Rachel McAdams, Stephen Fry
Country: USA

Rating: **
Tom Gillespie

Review #937: 'The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence)' (2011)

Once the media circus died down following the emerging release of The Human Centipede (First Sequence) back in 2009, people actually sat down to watch it. Behind the reports of a macabre, utterly depraved film in which people were sown together ass-to-mouth and forced to shit through each other as one huge digestive system, the movie itself was actually pretty tame. This was the main gripe a lot of people had with it, and it became a victim of its own hype (although I'm sure the film benefited from it financially). Director Tom Six's reaction to this was to make First Sequence seem like 'My Little Pony' compared to it's follow-up.

And Part II does exactly that. Six has created an experience so utterly deplorable that even the most die-hard of gore-hounds will undoubtedly cringe at the horror on show. Every aspect of the film is designed to repulse it's viewers, causing critics of the first film to question whether this was the kind of debauchery they were hoping for in 2009. This approach may have been affective had Six demonstrated any hint of subtlety or artistic flair, but instead he delivers shock after shock like a cinematic endurance test and points and laughs at us like a giddy teenager showing someone 2 Girls 1 Cup for the first time. The idea came to him when he was asked if he thought a deranged fan could actually try and create their own human centipede, and his new antagonist was born.

Overweight car park attendant Martin (Laurence R. Harvey) spends his days watching The Human Centipede on his laptop in his toll booth, and is such a huge fan of the film that he keeps a scrapbook containing movie stills, photographs of its actors, and hastily drawn diagrams of the grisly, yet '100% medically accurate' surgical procedure. Asthmatic and mentally retarded, he lives with his abusive and overbearing mother and was sexually abused as a child by his father. Tired of his miserable, repetitive existence, Martin decides to turn his fantasies into reality and create his own centipede. Not content with the work of Dr. Heitler in the first film, Martin plans a 12-strong centipede and starts to mutilate and kidnap his victims, storing them in a warehouse while he awaits the arrival of actress Ashlynn Yennie, who he has conned into coming to London on the promise of an audition for the next Tarantino movie.

Six makes a point of showing Martin's lack of surgical skills. While First Sequence was crisp, clinical and in colour, Full Sequence is grimy, messy, and filmed in a depressing black-and-white. Rather than drugging his victims, Martin bashes them over his head with a crowbar, and unlike the surgical precision of Heitler, Martin duct tapes his victims and staples them together. It makes for a brutal experience, but its effects are dulled by some lazy writing - we are expected to believe the victims wouldn't struggle while their teeth are being knocked out one by one with a hammer or having the ligament in their knees removed. While I can certainly appreciate Six's desire to create something different to its predecessor, this is simply an unpleasant experience. I could appreciate disturbing, but Six opts for disgusting, and this exists simply to push your buttons.


Directed by: Tom Six
Starring: Laurence R. Harvey, Ashlynn Yennie, Vivien Bridson
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #864: 'The Inbetweeners Movie' (2011)

Based on the immensely successful TV series that ran between 2008 and 2010 on E4, The Inbetweeners naturally made the leap to the big screen much to the appreciation of its fans, who obviously felt that 3 seasons was not nearly enough time to spend with it's four hopeless would-be lothario's. As with most TV-to-movie transitions, the added budget requires moving the setting to something bigger and more exotic, which means its a lad's holiday to Malia for Will (Simon Bird), Jay (James Buckley), Neil (Blake Harrison) and Simon (Joe Thomas), where they hope to find sun, sea and sex. "It'll be like shooting clunge in a barrel," as the ever-sensitive Jay delicately puts it.

After Will's father marries a much younger women, Jay inherits money from his grandfather's death, and Simon is dumped by his girlfriend Carli (Emily Head), Neil books the group a much-needed fortnight away in Crete. Only their accommodation is a run-down squalor with a dead dog in the water well, and the area seems to be populated by a lonesome weirdo, an angry hotel owner and lots of ants. Their first venture into the clubs leads them to a deserted bar where they meet four girls who are staying nearby. Will insults but manages to hit it off with the gorgeous Alison (Laura Haddock); Simon can't stop talking about his ex to Lucy (Tamla Kari); Neil is too interested in the older lady on the dancefloor to talk to Lisa (Jessica Knappett); which leaves Jay "stuck with the fat one" Jane (Lydia Rose Bewley).

I boycotted the show for years due to it's popularity, as I find that it never spells good news if everyone is discussing how funny a show is (see Gavin & Stacy for proof). Yet when I did catch it on late-night TV, it transported me back to my school days. The dialogue is consistently crude and ridiculously offensive, but tragically realistic. The boys' repulsiveness was offset by their naivety and innocence, especially when spoken by Jay, a compulsive liar with a mentally abusive father. The show was less appealing in its relentless cruelty; set-pieces involving shitting your pants during an exam or walking down a cat-walk with one testicle unknowingly hanging out tended to induce cringing rather than laughs.

Operating on a larger scale means that these set-pieces are more dominant, making the film more akin to American teen sex comedies such as Porky's (1982) or American Pie (1999) than the more observational TV show that brought us "bus wankers!", "ah, car fwend," and punching a fish to death. So rather than decent jokes and immature word-play, we get Jay masturbating with chicken-fillets and a gas mask and Neil's fingers working their way into an old slapper's knickers in the middle of a club. Still, while it makes little attempt to work outside the familiar tropes of the genre, it's funnier than most small-to-big screen transitions seen with British shows throughout the decades, with Bird and Buckley especially putting in decent performances.


Directed by: Ben Palmer
Starring: Simon Bird, James Buckley, Blake Harrison, Joe Thomas
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #830: 'Fast Five' (2011)

Usually, the fifth instalment of a long-running franchise is a re-hash of what made the original so popular, becoming increasingly tiresome in the process. 2009's fourth entry, Fast & Furious, which saw the core cast members return from a two film hiatus, was surprisingly fun, being less about flashy cars, nameless gyrators and the underground world of street racing, and focused more on the 'family' of criminals to whom the plot was centred around. Returning director Justin Lin, who has been on board since 2006's Tokyo Drift, continues this idea and makes a movie more exciting and action-packed than the one's that came before.

After rescuing their friend Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) from a lengthy jail term, Brian O'Connor (Paul Walker) and his girlfriend Mia (Jordana Brewster) flee to Rio de Janeiro to evade capture. Whilst they await the arrival of Dom, they pull a job with old acquaintance Vince (Matt Schulze), from the first movie, capturing a set of cars seized by the D.E.A. on their way, by train, to the U.S. When they discover that two of their crew are only interested in one car, Dom - who arrives mid-heist - gets Mia to steal it herself and the rest barely escape with their lives. The car turns out to be the property of drug lord Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida), and contains a microchip detailing the whereabouts of his $100 million fortune.

In an attempt to open the franchise up to a wider audience, Fast Five sees the series change from underground street racing and petty criminality to full-on fisticuff action, bagging a huge ensemble to support it's aspirations to be a heist movie. And it works. This is still stuff of the cheesiest variety, ignoring the laws of physics and asking us to suspend our beliefs far too often, but the idea of these criminals - who evolve into Robin Hood-types - who help each other like a family is nice. Lin brings back familiar faces Roman (Tyrese Gibson), Tej (Chris 'Ludacris' Bridges), Han (Sung Kang), and Gisele (Gal Gadot), but it's a newcomer that steals the show.

As Hobbs, the enormous, baby-oiled D.S.S. agent assigned to capture Dom and his crew, Dwayne Johnson proves to be a great addition. With his ridiculous size, he's a credible threat to the likes of Dom, and their scenes together, including one inevitable smack-down, are laced with testosterone and a bit of humour, two things that Johnson does remarkably well. The main set-piece involves two cars dragging a stolen safe through the city streets, leaving a wave of destruction in their path. It's a gleefully ridiculous climax, and Lin proves himself wise by using minimal CGI. It doesn't break any boundaries or offer anything new to the genre, but it's a satisfying way to spend two hours with your brain on auto pilot mode.


Directed by: Justin Lin
Starring: Vin Diesel, Paul Walker, Jordana Brewster, Tyrese Gibson, Ludacris, Dwayne Johnson, Sung Kang, Gal Gadot, Matt Schulze, Elsa Pataky
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #787: 'The Guard' (2011)

To paraphrase The Guard's FBI Agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle), this movie is either really motherfuckin' smart, or really motherfuckin' dumb. Having laughed my way throughout the majority of it, my feet are firmly in the former camp, with Brendan Gleeson's towering performance and writer/director John Michael McDonagh's extremely witty script make this one of the most under-appreciated movies of 2011. It is, on the surface, a simple fish out of water story crossed with a mismatched buddy comedy. But with a self awareness that brings to mind Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005), The Guard often feels like it's more intelligent than it's letting on, similar in many ways to it's morally shady protagonist.

Gerry Boyle (Gleeson) is not your everyday Garda (Gaelic for 'policeman') . As he expressionlessly watches a car load of weed-toking yoofs crash and die, he helps himself to the insides of their pockets and finds some acid, which he promptly swallows without thinking twice. He cares about his terminally ill mother, so we know he's at least not all bad. His laid-back attitude to law enforcement is threatened by the arrival of the eager Aidan McBride (Rory Keenan) from Dublin, as well as a murder that may point to the work of an occult serial killer. There's also more drugs on the streets than ever before, but Gerry enjoys those almost as much as he enjoys his hookers.

If the witty yet crass dialogue spouting from this grumpy collections of Irishmen sounds somewhat familiar, then this is probably because John Michael's brother Martin McDonagh penned and directed In Bruges (2008), which also starred Gleeson. In my opinion, The Guard is better and certainly funnier. Most of the humour stems from Gerry himself and the way he plays with the characters he interacts with as much as the audience themselves. With the news that international drug traffickers are heading to Connemara to make a multi-million (or billion, no-one seems to know) dollar deal, FBI Agent Everett arrives to brief the guard's on the situation. When the dealers appear on the projector as Liam Cunningham and Mark Strong, Gerry's response is "But I thought all drug-dealers were black?".

It may seem somewhat bad taste humour, but the way Gleeson delivers his lines, and the reaction by Cheadle (who plays the straight-man extremely well), make for comedy gold. Gerry is everything Everett despises - bigoted, ignorant - but the loathing changes to curiosity as he witnesses Gerry do some good police work and appears to be the only one who cares. Is he putting on an act to catch people off-guard? Is he really an idiot with a natural instinct for detective work? Or is he a bit both? I can forgive it's formulaic shoot-out ending for suspicion that it may be mocking the type of films it's emulating. After all, this is a fish-out-of-water-story where the main character verbally acknowledges that he's in a fish-out-of-water story. I'm sticking with really motherfuckin' smart.


Directed by: John Michael McDonagh
Starring: Brendan Gleeson, Don Cheadle, Liam Cunningham, Mark Strong, Rory Keenan, Fionnula Flanagan, Katarina Cas
Country: Ireland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #712: 'Headhunters' (2011)

Headhunters is one in a long line of recent sophisticated Scandinavian noirs, offering a more thoughtful alternative to some of Hollywood's more mainstream thrillers. Based on the novel Hodejegerne by Jo Nesbo, Headhunters is high on the chase but low on plot, which is sad given the network of corporate sleaze that seems so high on possibilities during the film's opening scenes. It's set-pieces are streaked with wickedness and black comedy, but as they go on and on, and its lead character is dunking himself in human waste to escape an angry dog or surviving a fifty-foot drop off a cliff, it pushes its plausibility to, well, implausible levels.

Aksel Hennie plays Roger Brown, a smug, vertically-challenged corporate headhunter that moonlights as an art thief to fund the lavish lifestyle he believes his supermodel wife (Synnove Macody Lund) wants. He is approached by former military tracker Clas Greve (Games of Thrones' Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), who wants to be chosen by Brown to be the new CEO of Pathfinder, a technologies company. Hennie discovers that Greve has an ultra-rare Rubens painting, and steals it, only to find his wife's mobile phone in Greve's home. After stalling on the job offer, Brown finds himself being hunted by Greve and betrayed by those he believed cared about him.

With his preening demeanour and pale eyes, director Morten Tyldum is asking a lot for the audience to be rooting for Roger Brown's survival. Clas Greve is the one-dimensional bad guy - sneering, chiselled, glowing with self-satisfaction - but there were times I found myself cheering him on. Tyldum wisely portrays Brown's suffering with a tongue locked in cheek, and the situation he finds himself in are suitably amusing, even when they are particularly gruesome. But when his redemption finally comes, it's in favour of an extended collection of set-pieces and little resembling plot, glossing over what could have been a smart corporate thriller.


Directed by: Morten Tyldum
Starring: Aksel Hennie, Synnøve Macody Lund, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Eivind Sander
Country: Norway/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #693: 'Martha Marcy May Marlene' (2011)

When we first meet the mysterious 'cult' family in Martha Marcy May Marlene, it seems like the group are living a kind of idyllic, old-fashioned rural lifestyle, where the dungaree-wearing men hammer nails and build all day, while the women quietly do chores and prepare the men's dinner. Everyone seems happy, and the camp leader, the craggy, guitar-strumming Patrick (the fantastic John Hawkes) is charismatic and oddly charming. Yet there's an underlying sense of unease during these scenes, and this is where the film is at its best, slowly revealing through flashbacks the group's real motivations, as if peeping through the curtain of the strange family down the road.

Where the film sadly fails, is that the revelations aren't particularly surprising. Debut writer/director Sean Durkin's intentions are clearly not to produce a schlocky horror film with a big pay-off. It is more interested in the lasting effects the group has on its protagonist, Martha (Elizabeth Olsen), after she escapes and re-unites with her sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson), who is living in middle-class comfort hosting parties with her husband Ted (Hugh Dancy). Durkin heavily researched cults, but found the experiences of a young girl's life three weeks after she had escaped the most interesting, and Martha is an extremely damaged woman. Known by three different names, she has clearly lost her own identity, and finds it difficult to fit back into society.

Lucy and Ted struggle with Martha's increasingly erratic behaviour, as she bursts with fits of anger and innocently enters situations that society have deemed inappropriate. Olsen is a revelation here, giving a performance of maturity and complexity, a hushed, awkward presence in her sister's house of social formality. Hawkes is also impressive, following his creepy, Oscar-nominated performance in Winter's Bone (2010) with another character that slowly reveals himself as the film progresses. But for all it's indie-awareness and technical achievements (the film has a murky, ghostly feel), it's ultimately a victim of its own promises. It does so well at creating tension and foreboding, that it damages the rather predictable revelations. Still, Durkin is a director to keep an eye on, and Olsen, who went criminally unrecognised at an Oscars that was noticeably lacking in meaty female roles, should enjoy a long career.


Directed by: Sean Durkin
Starring: Elizabeth Olsen, Sarah Paulson, John Hawkes, Hugh Dancy
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #658: 'Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory' (2011)

And so, after 18 years, the story of the West Memphis Three finally reaches its conclusion. As does Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky's epic documentary trilogy. These films, as Echols confesses, were so important to their lives that without them, the judicial system would have forgotten about them and left them to rot for the rest of their lives (and until Echols' death by lethal injection). Purgatory picks the case up ten years after the second entry, Revelations, to find the case in a never-ending loop of denied appeals by original Judge David Burnett. With more evidence surfacing, the case is taken to the Arkansas Supreme Court, to argue that enough has been unearthed to warrant a new trial for Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelley.

After spending way too much time going over what occurred in the first two documentaries (about 45 minutes - which is a massive drag if you've just watched them back-to-back), we finally get to new ground as new interviewees give statements and leading experts in their respective fields give lectures uncovering new revelations about misinterpretations and misconduct given by the original trial 'experts'. Much of the trial focused on these murders being the work of ritualistic sacrifice due to the sexual mutilations of the victims and scratches left on their persons. It turns out that these are clearly the work of animals, most probably turtles (the area where the bodies were found is nicknamed 'Turtle Hill'). It reveals poor research by the original lawyers working for the defendants, and general ineptitude by basically everyone involved back in 1993/94.

Purgatory commits the same sin as Revelations, as suspicion moves from a noticeably more subdued John Mark Byers - who is now a supporter of the West Memphis Three and pen-pal to Echols - to Terry Hobbs, stepfather of Stevie Branch. Although, accusations don't come from character alone, but instead stem from a hair found within the knot of the shoelace with which the boys were hog-tied with and some alarming inconsistencies in Hobbs' story. But (ironically), this is something for the court to pursue and not documentary film-makers. The ending, which sees the West Memphis Three released from prison but not with their innocence intact, comes out of nowhere, as filming had already wrapped when the court called the plea appeal. For a more satisfying closure to the story, I would recommend West of Memphis (2012), which gives a more detailed account of their release, and also a more focused and detailed investigation of Hobbs. Still, it's a relief to finally watch these three walk free, even though it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth.


Directed by: Joe Berlinger, Bruce Sinofsky
Starring: Damien Wayne Echols, Jason Baldwin, Jessie Misskelley
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #594: 'The Raid' (2011)

Released amongst a flurry of post-Expendables 80's action homages, The Raid arrived to be met with almost universal acclaim from audiences and critics alike. So while Stallone and his crew have wetted audiences appetites for big guns and corny dialogue again - that coincidentally coincided with the return of the original oiled-up arse-groper, Arnold Schwarzenegger - The Raid took action back to the hand-to-hand delights of Asian action cinema and created what is undoubtedly the finest collection of fisticuffs that has ever been committed to film. Made with little budget, an inexperienced cast, and a director from Wales (the movie itself is Indonesian), the result is simply mystifying, blowing away all pretenders.

The plot is simple. Expectant father Rama (Iko Uwais) and a 20-man police squad led by Sergeant Jaka (Joe Taslim) and Lieutenant Wahyu (Pierre Gruno) are sent to an apartment block run by crime lord Tama (Ray Sahetapy). Made up mainly by rookies, the team intend to sneak in undetected, taking Tama and his two henchmen Andi (Donny Alamsyah) and Mad Dog (Yayan Ruhian) alive. Things don't go to plan when they are seen by a spotter and are quickly confronted by a small army of the apartment block's residents. With the squad separated and quickly getting smaller, and Lieutenant Wahyu's intentions becoming increasingly unclear, Tama announces that any man that kills a policeman will be allowed to live there free of charge, causing even more cronies to descend on them.

While the plot sounds distinctly similar to that of Die Hard (1988) (and one copied by Dredd a year later), the set-up is a simple platform to allow director Gareth Evans to unleash a near-endless orgy of fists, feet, knives and, well, more fists. Had the action been anything less than spectacular, The Raid would be a massive bore, but thankfully, it is jaw-dropping. Every fight is a lightning-fast array punches and kicks with spatters of black humour and squirm-inducing deaths. Yet there are no bone-snapping close-ups or time-altering impact accentuations that plague action movies with lesser scope and respect for it's audience - this is fast, brutal, almost real. Sure, the characters simply defy the limits of the human pain threshold, but it's the realism of the punches and stabbings that give the fights their impact.

You will need to leave your brain at the door however, as beyond the action scenes, there is very little going on in terms of story and believability, which makes the film somewhat shallow in terms of what it could have been given a little more thought. Every resident in the apartment complex is a master of some martial art or other. But that I can easily forgive, as it just offers the chance to make every single fight memorable. If you loved the famous fight scene in They Live, then you're in for a treat towards the end, where we get a truly nasty extended three-way face-off, that displays some fine martial artistry that will surely put pencak silat on the movie map. The Raid is destined to be the film that all action movies are compared with, and undoubtedly silenced by. Sadly, with the absence of any real plot developments, The Raid will always be a great action movie to me, rather than a great movie.


Directed by: Gareth Evans
Starring: Iko Uwais, Joe Taslim, Donny Alamsyah, Yayan Ruhian, Pierre Gruno
Country: Indonesia/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie