Review #1,478: 'Assassin's Creed' (2016)

Despite numerous critical and commercial failures over the last quarter of a century, Hollywood just cannot turn away from trying to capitalise on an industry that continues to out to out-gross them. Video game adaptations have been a thing ever since Nintendo tried and catastrophically failed to bring to life the colourful world of Mario and Luigi with 1993's Super Mario Bros., and it's become a running joke ever since that there has never been, and will unlikely ever be, a decent console-to-big-screen adaptation. But the $1 billion-plus success of Capcom's Resident Evil franchise lingers in the minds of many a studio head, so pretty much every year a new cast and crew are put together to develop a game series with a promise to break the trend. 

While the likes of Prince of Persia and Rampage are perfectly serviceable fluff, they are way overshadowed by the unbearable awfulness of a Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, or a Max Payne, or whatever hot turd Uwe Boll is serving up that month. We have gone through the disappointment too many times to believe it when a director promises to stick to the source material, but eyebrows were raised when it came to the inevitable movie adaptation of Ubisoft's hugely successful Assassin's Creed series, which plunged you into a centuries-old battle between the Knights Templar and a shadowy group known as the Assassins. Not only was Justin Kurzel, director of the truly unsettling Australian drama Snowtown and Shakespeare epic Macbeth, to helm the film, but Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard, two of the most respected actors in the business, were also signed up for the leads. Could this be the movie to finally bridge the two mediums and match the success of its source material?

The short answer is no, but by no means is Assassin's Creed a complete disaster. Its main problem is that it depicts two worlds from two different periods in time, but forgets to make them both interesting. We have the Inquisition-era Madrid, where hooded assassins move stealthily through the crowd armed with daggers and their wits, as they attempt to bring down those in power who seek peace in the land through control. The Assassins also long for peace, but peace gained through freedom, and they don't want a McGuffin known as the Apple of Eden, which somehow possesses the power to block humanity's free will, falling into their hands. This war has raged on for centuries, and in the modern era - a glum grey world full of murky corridors and empty rooms - the Templar continue their search for the Apple, employing a new technology that allows people to travel into the memories of their ancestors, to track down the allusive object through the centuries. 

We spend the bulk of the time in the present day, as convicted criminal Cal Lynch (Fassbender) is saved from the electric chair by Sofia (Cotillard) and spends much of his time brooding in his cell over the murder of his mother. I get the feeling that writers Michael Lesslie, Adam Cooper and Bill Collage want to keep you in the dark about who the good guys are here, but as soon as Jeremy Irons arrives with his black turtleneck sweater, you pretty much know how this is going to play out. The plot is an odd mixture of overly complicated and incredibly stupid, and much of the screentime is spent having these characters explain it to each other and the audience, or at least those in the crowd who have never played the game (like myself). When Cal finally straps up and enter the body of his ancestor Aguilar de Nerha, the movie springs into life, although this bleached-out world of questionable special effects and wannabe-Indiana Jones action may have seemed all the more exiting by the sheer dreariness of the alternative. 

Directed by: Justin Kurzel

Starring: Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, Jeremy Irons, Brendan Gleeson, Charlotte Rampling, Michael Kenneth Williams

Country: USA/France/UK/Hong Kong/Taiwan/Malta

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,397: 'Catfight' (2016)

As the title may suggest, the story of Onur Tukel's Catfight revolves around two women beating each other to a bloody pulp. It's where the film finds its most laughs, and these scenes - played out over the years like a modern-day The Duellists - don't pull their punches, although the frequent smackdowns are imagined in a very slapstick-y style, complete with over-the-top slappy sounds effects. The first of these fights takes place at a pompous party in a Manhattan apartment, where suit-wearing types are toasting a big deal that will serve them well in an upcoming war. It's where down-on-her-luck artist Ashley (Anne Heche) is helping her girlfriend Lisa (Alicia Silverstone) cater and serve drinks, and where she encounters trophy wife Veronica (Sandra Oh) for the first time in decades. Veronica's passive-aggressive snootiness is too much for Ashley, and they end up beating tens tons of shit out of each other in a stairwell.

It's the first of three encounters between the ladies over the course of the film, and it leaves Veronica in a coma for the next two years. When she finally wakes up, she is hit by the news that both her husband and son are dead, and all of her money has been drained by hospital care and a downturn in the economy brought on by the ongoing war. Ashley, on the other hand, is doing incredibly well for herself. Her angry and confrontational art has suddenly become popular in these troubled times, and she milks it for all it's worth. Yes, Catfight is set in an alternate near-future, where the U.S. are engaged in a bloody conflict that has seen the draft reinstated and where everybody seems to be a special kind of terrible person. We are kept up-to-date over the years by a talk show that everyone seems to watch, complete with a comedy monologue to-camera which always ends with a fart gag. It's a grotesque reality, and the film aims its jabs at the left, the right, the rich, and the poor, and even finds time to giggle at crazy doomsday preppers and those stupid enough to buy crappy art.

It's original satire that may catch you off-guard if you don't know to expect going into the film, but it's also awkwardly on-the-nose. We loathe Veronica but come to sympathise with her when she is stripped of her family and assets and is forced to stay with her former help, and the same then happens with Ashley in reverse. Their stories mirror each other almost scene-by-scene, and while I'm sure the director felt that such an approach would be clever and off-the-wall, it comes across as plain lazy writing. There's no subtlety to the way the film executes its satire, and while this may be the point given the way the central characters go at each other like rabid dogs, it blunts the film's edge and gives it a lighter, almost cartoonish feel. Catfight works best when it allows the darkness to creep in, especially when Oh and Heche are simply allowed to spit venom at each other. It's saved by the strength of the performances, with Oh turning in an especially terrific performance and again questioning why she can't seem to land bigger roles. Catfight is an interesting story told with immaturity and a heavy hand, but with a touch more seasoning, Tukel could be one for the future.


Directed by: Onur Tukel
Starring: Sandra Oh, Anne Heche, Alicia Silverstone, Amy Hill, Myra Lucretia Taylor, Ariel Kavoussi
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,383: 'Central Intelligence' (2016)

The buddy-action-comedy movie was born in the cocaine-pumped 1980s, and should have been put to rest for good when they stopped being funny around the time Lethal Weapon 4 was released in 1998. But when you take two bankable stars and place them together side-by-side, studios cannot resist the pull of the buddy movie. What they don't realise however, is that the sub-genre is very tricky indeed, and the only good example in recent years that springs immediately to mind was helmed by the guy who really kicked the whole thing off - Shane Black's The Nice Guys. I'm sure there are others, but these films are mainly lazily-written and clumsily-plotted, mainly because it's easy to make money from them as long as you have two likeable stars to splash across the poster. Central Intelligence is one such movie that leans too heavily on the charisma of its leads - Kevin Hart and Dwayne Johnson - failing to make the most of what is actually an intriguing premise.

Back in high school, Calvin Joyner (Hart) was an all-star athlete, homecoming king, and all-round decent fella. Fast forward twenty years and he is working as a forensic accountant, watching the youngster he once schooled get promoted above him and having it all rubbed in his face by the obligatory office douchebag. Out of the blue, he is contacted via Facebook by somebody named Bob Stone, and Calvin curiously accepts his friend request. Bob turns out to be Robbie Weirdicht (Johnson), the once-chubby kid who was humiliated in high school when he was thrown buck-naked into an assembly hall during Calvin's honorary speech. Robbie, however, has grown up to be The Rock and is now tall, muscular and confident, although he is still goofy. He loves unicorns and fanny packs, and worships Calvin ever since the most popular guy in school was the only one to feel sympathy for Robbie by handing him his sports jacket to cover up. They meet for drinks and have a good time, but when the CIA come knocking on Calvin's door the next day, it becomes clear that Bob isn't everything he appeared to be, and may in fact want Calvin's help with tracking down a shadowy criminal known as the Black Badger.

There are some darker, more interesting paths director Rawson Marshall Thurber (Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, We're the Millers) could choose to explore here, but Central Intelligence turns out to be the very definition of formulaic. It actually stars off well, with Hart and Johnson proving to be a highly watchable pair who share great chemistry, and both actors playing against type. When the shaky, poorly choreographed action sequences kick off, they fall back into familiar routines, with Johnson effortlessly disposing of bad guys and Hart shrieking as chaos ensues around him. The comedy becomes uncomfortably forced, and proves that improvisation isn't as easy to direct as Hollywood seems to believe it to be. Someone like Larry Charles or Adam McKay would have likely made much more out of this, but in Thurber's hands the tone shifts wildly, and the actors' energy levels change vastly from one scene to the next. The likes of Amy Ryan and Jason Bateman are wasted in forgettable roles, and as soon as you see who plays Bob's former partner via flashback (there's a sub-plot questioning Bob's mental stability and ultimate goal), you'll likely unravel what little mystery the film flirts with. Hart and Johnson won't be harmed by this, as they simply aren't the problem here. The problem is the flat direction, tiresome plot and unforgivably boring action scenes.


Directed by: Rawson Marshall Thurber
Starring: Kevin Hart, Dwayne Johnson, Amy Ryan, Danielle Nicolet, Jason Bateman, Aaron Paul
Country: USA/China

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,354: 'The Neon Demon' (2016)

The arrival of a new movie by Danish director and enfant terrible Nicolas Winding Refn is always a cause for excitement. Not because the filmmaker's name is any kind of guaranteed stamp of quality, but because of our natural curiosity to see just how far he is willing to push his audience. His 2011 smash and Hollywood breakthrough Drive was a surprise treat: a neon-lit journey into the underbelly of L.A. that featured a career-defining performance by Ryan Gosling. His follow-up Only God Forgives was a massive disappointment and received a near-universal panning, but there was enough style there to maintain the belief that Refn was still capable of delivering something special. Sadly his next film, The Neon Demon, is similarly hollow, kicking up such a stink at Cannes that it inspired mass booing, although just as many were cheering it.

Where the L.A. of Drive was dangerous and seductive, the City of Angels depicted in The Neon Demon is one cut straight from a glossy fashion magazine. Models are dolled up to look like corpses, staring dead-eyed into the lens as the shady photographer watches ominously. The city's latest arrival is porcelain-skinned beauty Jesse (Elle Fanning), who natural golden curls and cute nose draw jealousy from her cosmetically-enhanced rivals. She has just celebrated her 16th birthday, but a modelling agency talent spotter (played by Christina Hendricks) advises her to claim she's 19, should anybody ask. She soon catches the eye of some of the best photographers in the business, all of whom seems instantly enchanted by her looks and youth. As make-up artist Ruby (Jena Malone) puts it, Jesse just has that 'thing'. That thing is innocence, but such a quality cannot last in a cut-throat industry where models eat each other alive.

There's always been a grimy quality to Refn's movies, even in his most polished output. The Neon Demon is his closest brush with horror, and the director initially seems like the perfect fit for the genre. Yet this button-pushing slog will likely inspired yawns and frustration rather than gasps and shudders. It seems like Refn has a list of taboos he's eager to tick off his body of work, and The Neon Demon is happy to indulge in everything from necrophilia to cannibalism. It's a premise built on the flimsiest of metaphors, and the resulting message ultimately seems to be that some men are sleazy, women can be bitches, and the fashion world is vacuous and materialistic. Sub-plots are introduced, such as an incredibly dull love interest (Karl Glusman) and an unscrupulous motel owner (Keanu Reeves), but they lead nowhere and serve no real purpose to the story. It's provocative for the sake of being provocative, which wouldn't be a huge problem if the film wasn't so utterly ponderous. Like his fellow countryman Lars von Trier, Refn is eager to shock, but there can be little to no impact when there is a complete lack of substance.


Directed by: Nicolas Winding Refn
Starring: Elle Fanning, Karl Glusman, Jena Malone, Bella Heathcote, Abbey Lee, Keanu Reeves, Alessandro Nivola, Christina Hendricks
Country: Denmark/France/USA/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,290: 'Lo And Behold, Reveries Of The Connected World' (2016)

With Lo and Behold, Reveries of the Connected World, director Werner Herzog continues his investigations into the nature of man and our influence on the planet. Having spent most of his earlier career exploring the nature of madness and the limits of the human mind with feature films often starring Klaus Kinski, Herzog's career of late has seen him focus primarily on documentaries, and there is perhaps no other filmmaker more naturally suited to the genre. Lo and Behold tells the story of the internet, from its humble birth in a seemingly forgotten office at UCLA, to its recent explosion and rapidly widespread use throughout the world, and Herzog tackles the subject with both excited fascination and trepidation.

Herzog, as usual, plays the role of the viewer, actively participating in conversation with his interviewees. He often interrupts to confirm his understanding, or to offer his own unique philosophical musings. This may come across as distracting to anyone less than familiar with the filmmaker's output, but for us Herzog loyalists, his willingness to vocalise his own feelings or provide idiosyncratic observations throughout the documentary is precisely what makes his films such a joy. His subjects appear to instantly warm to him too, allowing them to relax and open up more, with the helmer only too happy to try and catch them off guard if they veer away from the subject. As one interviewee (who is in an internet rehab facility to cure his addiction to gaming and porn) gleefully bounds across a rickety wooden bridge to greet the camera, Herzog chuckles to himself and states that no further introduction is necessary.

Although the documentary does occasionally ramble, Herzog doesn't allow his own personality to eclipse the subject at hand. He concerns himself with society's increasing detachment from one another as we spend more time in front of a computer screen, and ponders whether or not the internet can dream of itself (some of the reactions to this question are priceless). The film also explores the dark side of the net, telling the story of Nikki Catsouras, the young and beautiful girl who was killed in a horrific car accident, only for pictures of her mangled body to surface on the internet. Nikki's father soon started to receive e-mails with the pictures attached, complete with mocking messages that will make your blood boil. Lo and Behold depicts our brave new world as simultaneously exciting, beautiful and utterly terrifying, reaching as far as exploring our inevitable migration into space. It offers insight into everything from robot development, internet usage and dreams, allowing Herzog to further continue his almost alien fascination with both the beauty and horror of humanity.


Directed by: Werner Herzog
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,268: 'Brimstone' (2016)

Only a few famous cinematic figures can get away with using their surname only when headlining a poster or introducing a movie's title. Schwarzenegger and Stallone get away with it, as would the likes of Spielberg, Kubrick and Hitchcock if they were that way inclined. In an incredible display of confidence in his work, Dutch director Martin Koolhoven opens his latest film with the title of 'Koolhoven's Brimstone', a brave move for a filmmaker few outside of the Netherlands will have heard of. He clearly takes himself very seriously, and Brimstone just may be the most serious film of the year in the way the director soaks the film with such a biblical doom-and-gloom atmosphere that it would be difficult to watch without a chin-stroke or two.

Focusing on the life of a young mute woman named Liz, played by Dakota Fanning, in a particularly brutal Old West, Brimstone is a commentary on both the strength of woman and the sadistic nature of man. Liz holds a position of respect in the town due to her midwifing skills, but when a problematic birth leads to a decision between mother or baby, she is targeted by the residents as a murderer. Things get worse when The Reverend (Guy Pearce) walks into town. He is a stoic, imposing figure eager to reinforce God's fury to his congregation, and expects total obedience in return. Liz clearly shares a history with him, and is eternally terrified in his presence. This is the first of four stories played out of order, flashing back to Liz's time in a brothel under the orders of violent owner Frank (Paul Anderson), and forward again as Liz tries to escape the clutches of The Reverend.

At first, the non-linear narrative structure is interesting, unfolding the story carefully in order to reveal truths that change your outlook of the story. When the film finished, it felt as though it was a mere distraction from the boring central plot. Brimstone is a film about punishment, and the 149-minute running-time seems like a deliberate choice from the director to punish us in the process. It's a gruelling watch; alongside the violence and misogyny of many of its characters, there's also paedophilia, rape, incest, infanticide and hangings. It seems to wallow in the very things it is rallying against, particularly an uncomfortable scene in which The Reverend humiliates his wife (played by Carice van Houten) and forces her to wear a metal bridle in an attempt to destroy her. Things liven up slightly when Kit Harington's injured outlaw arrives on the scene, but by this point you'll be too beaten down by the relentless atmosphere for it to make much of a difference. Brimstone is bold and will likely provoke discussion, but ultimately little more than an exercise in misery.


Directed by: Martin Koolhoven
Starring: Dakota Fanning, Guy Pearce, Emilia Jones, Paul Anderson, Carice van Houten, Kit Harington
Country: Netherlands/France/Germany/Belgium/Sweden/USA/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,263: 'Pete's Dragon' (2016)

As Disney wade through their back catalogue of animated classics to introduce to modern audiences, the wealth of pure quality at their disposal borders on the embarrassing. By the end of 2016, favourites such as Maleficent (a spin on Sleeping Beauty), Cinderella and The Jungle Book had already been and gone, to varying degrees of success. Next on the agenda, much to many people's surprise, was Pete's Dragon, a live-action remake of a pretty crappy mixture of animation and live-action from 1977, a film many won't have even heard of, and the few who have actually seen it will have long forgotten. The choice for the director's chair was also curious: The job fell to indie director David Lowery, who up to this point was known only for his little-seen outlaw movie Ain't Them Bodies Saints. It seemed as though Disney were taking a "may as well get it over with" attitude towards re-imagining one of their more obscure works, but 2016's Pete's Dragon is actually the best and loveliest of their recent crop.

It's the 70's, a five year-old Pete is heading on a road trip with his parents in search of adventure. The plan is turned on its head (much like their vehicle) when a deer runs out into the road, causing them to crash and killing Pete's parents in the process. Within moments of fleeing the wreckage and making it in the woods, Pete finds himself confronted by a giant dragon. Five years later, and Pete (now played by Oakes Fegley) has forged a bond with the dragon, who he names Elliot, and has turned feral in the forest. Their home is shrinking every day, thanks to a lumberjack crew ran by Jack (Wes Bentley) and his brother Gavin (Karl Urban), so it isn't long until their discovered. Luckily for them, Pete is seen by good-hearted park ranger Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard), whose father (played by Robert Redford), tells stories of the day he encountered a huge green dragon in his youth. As Pete longs to go home while also warming to his new surrogate family, Elliot misses his friend, and finds himself hunted by prize-seeker Gavin. 

This is a tried-and-tested Disney formula, so expect few surprises here. What is most surprising, and utterly charming, is the way Lowery goes about his business. There is plenty of genuine heart and care taken with developing its characters. Even the 'villain' of the piece shows genuine concern for Pete's well-being when he is discovered ragged and howling, and Jack isn't the cold habitat-slayer you would expect. Although there is an impressive CGI dragon complete with tail-chasing and a cute wet nose, the story stays remarkably low-key, comparable in many ways to Steven Spielberg's E.T. before the government goons enter the story. If there's a major criticism to be, it is that Gavin's sudden ambition to slay the dragon comes out of nowhere, and seems included simply to create a foe for Elliot while Pete is off in society. For a film that handles the human drama so well, it simply isn't needed, although it sets up a climax exciting enough to slightly make up for it. If you haven't seen the original, then save yourself the trouble, as 2016's Pete's Dragon is a rare example of a remake that leaves the original well in its wake. 

Directed by: David Lowery

Starring: Oakes Fegley, Bryce Dallas Howard, Robert Redford, Oona Laurence, Wes Bentley, Karl Urban

Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,260: 'Dog Eat Dog' (2016)

Despite his recent track record, Paul Schrader's overall contribution to cinema should not be scoffed at. He was, after all, responsible for penning three great Martin Scorsese movies (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and The Last Temptation of Christ) and one okay one (Bringing Out the Dead), as well as directing the likes of Blue Collar, American Gigolo and Light Sleeper, all interesting movies in their own right. Of recent years, he's been stuck in the straight-to-DVD game, churning out schlock to help raise funds for his own underwhelming personal projects. Teaming up with cinema-dodging king Nicolas Cage for the second time (after 2014's Dying of the Light), Schrader's latest - an incredibly violent and misanthropic crime thriller called Dog Eat Dog - may just be worst thing the once-respectable writer-director has ever put out.

Back in 1976, Schrader's script for Taxi Driver immersed us in the seedy and scum-laden underbelly of New York, a part of the world unseen by the majority of us, and demanded that we contemplate this world of our making. With Dog Eat Dog, Schrader seems happy to relax into a cliche-ridden world of motor-mouthed ex-cons, prostitutes in hotel rooms, and the "one last job" that will allow these anti-heroes to escape their life of crime. Cage plays Troy, the brains of the gang fresh out of prison. His friend Mad Dog (Willem Dafoe), has recently committed a double murder and certainly lives up to his nickname. Diesel (Christopher Matthew Cook) is the muscle of the group who, we are told, possesses great intelligence despite his ogreish appearance. They are rounded up by crime boss 'The Greek' (Schrader himself) to pull off a baby kidnapping, a job that could land them a handsome payday.

Based on the novel by Eddie Bunker, which I haven't read, Dog Eat Dog feels like it has been thawed out from the 1990s, back when Quentin Tarantino's output was still influencing every low-budget, independent feature. With Cage and Dafoe turning their bonkers shtick up to eleven, it's clear that Schrader intended for this to be a comedy. Are we meant to laugh at a knife murder because the woman is overweight, or at Troy as he threatens to blow a woman's backbone through her belly? Apparently we are, although I can't imagine anybody actually raising a chuckle. Dog Eat Dog is an unpleasant and utterly aimless piece of trash, with scenes connected by a plot so thin that it feels like Schrader's finger is on the random button. There's a brief moment of tension when the gang find themselves in an increasingly hostile neighbourhood, but True Detective already did it with more pizzazz 3 years ago. Above all, Dog Eat Dog is painfully boring, and even at just 90 minutes, I found my eyes constantly checking the running time.


Directed by: Paul Schrader
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Willem Dafoe, Christopher Matthew Cook, Paul Schrader
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,255: 'The Limehouse Golem' (2016)

The Limehouse Golem, adapted from the novel by Peter Ackroyd, has lingered in development hell for years, being passed between various directors and actors (Alan Rickman pulled out at the last minute due to his failing health), before finally getting the green light in the hands of rookie filmmaker Juan Carlos Medina and screenwriter Jane Goldman. Boasting a terrific cast, a blood-drenched, smog-filled atmosphere, and a murder mystery that is as grisly as it is engaging, the film has sadly struggled to find an audience. With a measly number of ratings just shy of 4,000 on IMDb, its failure is truly unfortunate. The Limehouse Golem is, at its heart, a Sherlock Holmes-esque mystery set in a pre-Jack the Ripper London, complete with a frustrated detective, a handful of red herrings, a small band of colourful suspects. But dig a little deeper, and there's an interesting feminist work at play.

Beginning, as charismatic music hall performer Dan Leno (Douglas Booth) announces, at the end, Medina introduces to this eternally grey world with the death-by-poison of wannabe playwright John Cree (Sam Reid). His wife Lizzie (Olivia Cooke) is distraught, but her conniving maid Aveline (Maria Valverde) - whose role in the story becomes clearer through flashbacks - drops the hint to police that Lizzie is the one to make his nightcaps, and insisted on doing so the night the husband she wasn't very fond of died. The beginning, at we come to learn, is more like the middle, as this opening scene not only sets in motion Lizzie's story (she is arrested and faces the noose is found guilty), but may also hold the key to the identity of a brutal killer who has terrified the community of Limehouse with a series of nasty slayings - The Limehouse Golem.

We learn of the Golem's activities through John Kildare (Bill Nighy), a disliked Scotland Yard investigator brought in as a scapegoat when previous investigations have led to dead ends. Upright and quietly-spoken, Kildare is known as "not the marrying type," and has therefore found himself dumped in menial department ushered away in some dark corner, despite his obvious skills in the field. To help navigate the filthy slums, he procures the help of highly competent copper George Flood (Daniel Mays). Yet Kildare's hunt for the killer is made even more desperate by the ticking-clock that is Lizzie's trial, and saving her from the gallows becomes as equally important as preventing another murder victim. Man's urge to rescue a 'woman in need' is a prime focus of Medina's film, and Lizzie seems to find one at every turn. A victim of childhood abuse, she is also doted over by Cree, a nice guy on the face of it, but one driven by the need to sweep a girl away from nothing and into his handsome, middle-class arms.

Kildare quickly learns that Lizzie doesn't need to be, or even want to be, saved. Nighy may have received top billing, but this is very much Cooke's film. She has the most screen time, and handles Lizzie's development from a strong-willed working-class girl, into a star of the music hall, and eventually into a possible murderer, astonishingly well. As Leno, Booth plays the role like a big-toothed and less annoying version of Russell Brand, and shows remarkable restraint and skill in avoiding stumbling into caricature. But much praise must also be lavished on Medina and Goldman, who both manage to juggle the thrills and intrigue of a Victorian whodunit with a character piece that reveals far more layers than you would expect. When it does delve deeper into the mystery, Medina relishes the squalor, employing different characters to monologue the killer's diary as Kildare lines up the suspects, and delivering some surprisingly gory moments. Surely a film destined to enjoy cult success later in life, The Limehouse Golem is a truly unexpected delight.


Directed by: Juan Carlos Medina
Starring: Olivia Cooke, Bill Nighy, Douglas Booth, Daniel Mays, María Valverde, Eddie Marsan, Sam Reid
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,237: 'Free Fire' (2016)

The decade following the release of Quentin Tarantino's two-punch of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction saw many independent filmmakers clamouring to try and recreate the magic of those crime movies, which catapulted the one-time video store clerk to directorial super stardom. Stripped of his ear for witty dialogue and everything else that made them stand out, most of these imitations simply consisted of bad men pointing guns at each other whilst talking pop culture. This craze has since died down, but based on Ben Wheatley's latest venture Free Fire, there are those still longing to recreate the magic of those 90's classics. Free Fire is the cinematic equivalent of pillaging your toy box as a child and have the most colourful figures shoot it out with one another for the flimsiest of reasons. However, this isn't entirely a bad thing.

In 1970's Boston, a bunch of mean-looking men and one woman meet at an abandoned warehouse to finalise an arms deal. IRA members Chris (Cillian Murphy) and Frank (Wheatley regular Michael Smiley) meet with intermediary Justine (Brie Larson), and eventually with charming connect Ord (Armie Hammer looking very comfortable rocking a 70's beard). Arms dealer Vernon (Sharlto Copley) has some bad news in that he doesn't have the guns ordered, but the Irishmen push ahead for the deal anyway. A rocky introduction seems to be heading towards peaceful resolution, until Vernon's associate Harry (a hairy and bespectacled Jack Reynor) recognises junkie Stevo (Sam Riley) - one of Chris and Frank's gang - from a violent confrontation the night before. Negotiations quickly escalate into a stand-off between both parties, and a huge shoot-out ensues. With a briefcase full of money and a truck load of guns there for the taking, everyone's motivation and loyalty is quickly under scrutiny.

After tackling the lofty concept of socioeconomic commentary in messy misfire High Rise, Wheatley has fallen back on a simplistic and indulgent crowd-pleaser. With many an object to hide behind in the expansive warehouse setting, the witty dialogue of the opening thirty minutes becomes a cycle of leg-and-shoulder wounds and ricocheting bullets. It's a rather childish concept, but it manages to entertain by refusing to take itself seriously. Fracturing loyalties and double-crosses play second fiddle to guessing who will die next and just how they will meet their doom, backed by an impressive line-up of character actors. Outside of a couple of gruesome deaths, the script by Wheatley and long-time writing partner Amy Jump offers few surprises. Perhaps the couple needed to recuperate after their ambitious but ultimately disappointing attempt to bring High-Rise to the big screen. Whatever the reasoning for tackling a project so knowingly lacking in scale and originality, I enjoyed it, and hopefully now it's out of their system they will be capable of delivering a film as masterful as their jewel in the crown, Kill List.


Directed by: Ben Wheatley
Starring: Cillian Murphy, Brie Larson, Sharlto Copley, Armie Hammer, Michael Smiley, Sam Riley, Jack Reynor, Babou Ceesay, Noah Taylor
Country: UK/France

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,230: 'Train to Busan' (2016)

Train to Busan, Sang-ho Yeon's hugely successful South Korean zombie movie, may just be the most effortlessly enjoyable action movie to feature the brain-hungry undead in years. Taking inspiration from the maestro who created the 'zombie' we know and love today, the late, great George A. Romero, as well as Danny Boyle's faster and scarier flesh-eaters, it's a wonderfully constructed and nail-bitingly tense piece, which manages to mix action, horror and a bit of family drama into two hours of pure entertainment. It also finds time to deliver a message amidst the carnage, and one that is perhaps more relevant than ever in these unpredictable times. In the most hopeless of situations, we must ultimately look out for one another if we are to stand a chance of surviving. Train to Busan condemns those who are willing to sacrifice others to save their own necks.

Workaholic fund manager Seok-woo (Yoo Gong) is the kind of father who always seems to be on his phone at important family events. Divorced and single, he occasionally looks after his young daughter Soo-an (Su-an Kim) in the apartment he shares his mother, but pays such little attention to the girl that he buys her a Nintendo Wii for her birthday, forgetting that he got her the same present the previous year. What she really wants for her birthday is to see her mother in Busan, but Seok-woo is so busy at work that he is unable for find the time to accompany her on the 2 hour round-trip. After taking some advice from his mother, he eventually agrees. They arrive at the train station safe and sound, but it's clear that something isn't quite right. Police and ambulance sirens whizz by, people are running in the street, and the news reports show mass unrest and rioting across the country.

Before the train doors shut however, a sickly woman gets on board. She soon collapses and starts to convulse, only for a poor train attendant to tend to her and wound up bitten. It's a big train however, and Train to Busan starts to clearly establish the collection of characters on board. There's a tough husband and his pregnant wife, two elderly sisters, a young cheerleader, a rich and selfish corporate type, and an entire baseball team, who are handily packing many bats in their luggage. Panic soon sets in as the realisation of a zombie apocalypse dawns on the passengers, and with much of the country either in quarantine or overrun by the military trying to fight off the unstoppable hoard, its unclear just where and when they can stop. Seok-woo's intentions are to look out only himself and his daughter, and teaches the seemingly wiser Soon-an the same. But as the situation becomes increasingly dyer, it becomes clear that they are stronger together.

The atmosphere and tension are turned up to the max during some incredibly inventive set-pieces, which often make the most of the most mundane of locations. These are the running, screeching zombies of Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later, so cramped train carriages are quickly turned into narrow isles of death. As the passengers learn the zombies' weaknesses, such as their inability to work out a door handle or how they quickly forget about you once you're out of site, the darkness of long tunnels become their ally as they journey from A to B. Sang-ho Yeon is careful to keep the social commentary at the fore, highlighting how fear can turn the nicest of people into selfish, despicable monsters, and how important it is to fight out primal instincts in moments of terror. After a fast-paced first hour, the events become somewhat repetitive and the running time could do with some trimming, but it all pays off with a gripping climax. In a time of zombie overkill, Train to Busan still manages to feel fresh.


Directed by: Sang-ho Yeon
Starring: Yoo Gong, Su-an Kim, Yu-mi Jung, Dong-seok Ma, Woo-sik Choi, Sohee
Country: South Korea

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,219: 'I Am Not a Serial Killer' (2016)

Last year, Netflix unleashed one of its bigger hits to date - the nostalgic, creepy and ridiculously entertaining Stranger Things. Set in the 1980s, the show quickly garnered a legion of fans old enough to have grown up on the blockbuster classics of Steven Spielberg, as well as attracting younger viewers drawn to its mystery and lovable characters. While Stranger Things itself may have been influenced by J.J. Abrams' throwback Super 8, the show's success can certainly be felt throughout cinema. One such film is Billy O'Brien's I Am Not a Serial Killer, adapted from Dan Wells' young adult novel of the same name, which manages to hide its low budget roots incredibly well and deliver an interesting character study with a supernatural edge.

Teenager John Wayne Cleaver (Max Records) shows all the signs of being a future serial killer. He is well aware that his sinister thoughts and general disdain for humanity do not bode well, and openly tells his therapist so. In order to ensure that he doesn't commit a terrible act he cannot take back, John follows a strict set of rules, including responding to abuse by paying a compliment. It hasn't prevented him from developing a reputation as a freak among his fellow students in high school, but he does enjoy an easy-going friendship with his elderly neighbour, Mr. Crowley (Christopher Lloyd). In his spare time, John helps out his mother (Laura Fraser) with the family funeral home business, where he gets to stare with intense curiosity at the cadavers being readied for embalming. When the town is hit by an organ-stealing murderer, John uses his encyclopaedic knowledge of serial killers to carry out his own investigation.

It's to O'Brien's credit that he has managed to sculpt such an impressive-looking piece out of such a modest budget. It has a grungy, 90s aesthetic with a soundtrack including the likes of Donovan and Norman Greenbaum, but with the way it explores its dark subject matter and troubled protagonist, also feels contemporary. The less known about the film the better, as what little I had heard about it before going in led me to believe that I would be getting a serious study of a young sociopath, but this is only half of the story. The young Records, last seen in 2009's Where the Wild Things Are as an eleven year-old, plays the psycho with a heart of gold with a weirdly endearing blend of creepiness and fragility, and Lloyd gives one of his career-best as one of John's prime suspects. It has its flaws, and your enjoyment of the film may depend on how much genre-mixing you can stomach, but this is an odd yet compelling little indie.


Directed by: Billy O'Brien
Starring: Max Records, Christopher Lloyd, Laura Fraser, Karl Geary
Country: Ireland/UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,212: 'Raw' (2016)

For her debut feature film, writer and director Julia Ducournau opted for the particularly taboo subject matter of cannibalism. It's a bold and admirable move, as if there's anything that gets audiences members up in arms and storming out of a movie theatre, it's the sight of a non-zombie human being chowing down on another of their kind. Making its way onto movie screens after a successful festival run, Raw arrives with both critical acclaim and a sense of notoriety, having apparently rendering festival-goers faint and puking in the aisles, to the point where the paramedics were called. As it usually the case with movies that have generated similar controversy, Raw really isn't that gruesome, and is in fact very careful and patient when delivering those squirm-in-your-seat moments.

The incredibly bright but socially awkward Justine (Garance Marillier) has been mollycoddled by her parents from a young age and raised a strict vegetarian. We meet her on her first day at veterinary school, following the same path as her parents before her, and that of her older sister Alexia (Ella Rumpf), who still attends. As she settles down for a quiet read at night, the dorm is invaded by older pupils who don balaclavas and proceed to trash the place, forcing Justine and her gay roommate Adrien (Rabah Nait Outfella), along with her fellow freshmen, into submissive behaviour before introducing them to a crazy rave. The rituals don't stop there, and the new starters must also spend a day drenched in animal blood and eat raw rabbit kidney. Of course, the eating of meat goes against Justine's beliefs, but she gobbles the kidney down after some guidance from her sister. This first taste of the forbidden seems to awaken something inside of the teenager, and she is soon covered in a nasty body rash and craving raw flesh.

Anyone reading the synopsis will likely assume this to be a story of a twisted college campus turning its pupils into blood-drinking monsters, but this is not the case. While the school is rather weird in its inauguration traditions, this is a far more personal story of sibling rivalry and sexual awakening. It could be labelled a feminist piece, but I believe its themes will be familiar to both sexes. Why these themes play out within a story of cannibalism, I don't quite know, but they provide the opportunity for some memorable set-pieces that reach Cronenbergian levels of body horror repulsiveness. The instinctive, almost absent-minded suck on the end of a severed finger will leave you open-mouthed, but Ducournau films the scene with such gravitas that it doesn't just disgust, but also represents the emergence of something primal and confusing within its protagonist. Marillier's youthful beauty and timid curiosity brings life to the character, and the actress puts herself through many difficult scenes that would have most actors turning their nose up at. Visceral and quite unforgettable, Raw is a very rare beast - an excellent cannibal movie.


Directed by: Julia Ducournau
Starring: Garance Marillier, Ella Rumpf, Rabah Nait Oufella, Laurent Lucas
Country: Italy/France/Belgium

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,198: 'A Monster Calls' (2016)

The idea of a protagonist delving head-first into a realm of fantasy to escape the traumas of the real world is one that is employed by film-makers frequently, enabling them to inject an independent spirit into what could appear to some as a big-budget crowd-pleaser. Although these kinds of movies seem to pop up every year, the fantasy angle remains an incredibly effective tool, and occasionally a bona fide masterpiece will emerge such as Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth (2006). While del Toro's film saw its central character enter the titular labyrinth to escape a fascistic stepfather and the horrors of the Spanish Civil War, J.A. Bayona's A Monster Calls, based on the novel of the same name by Patrick Ness, sets its focus on a more personal and relatable tragedy. Young Conor O'Malley (Lewis MacDougall) is struggling to deal with bullies, a strict grandmother and his mother's terminal cancer.

His young mother, played with incredible warmth by Felicity Jones, spends most of her time in bed as her body becomes exhausted from multiple hospital treatments. Conor watches her become weaker and weaker as his grandmother (Sigourney Weaver) tends to her, and spends his hours in school terrified of bully Harry (James Melville). Struggling to sleep, he spends most of his nights drawing, finding refuge in his art. One night, he watches as the yew tree on the hill in the distance grows limbs and pulls itself from the ground, bounding towards Conor's bedroom window with fiery eyes. Voiced by a gravelly Liam Neeson, the Monster promises to tell Conor three stories, and insists that the boy tell him the fourth in return. The stories, which tell of good people doing bad things and bad people doing good things, seem nonsensical to Conor, but he gradually learns of the complexity of being human and dealing with grief and trauma.

With a reported budget of only $43 million, the special effects are incredibly effective in bringing the monster to life. He is not your usual kid's cuddly best friend, but an intimidating mass of branches and roots with a fondness for demolition who takes out most of Conor's bedroom when we first meet him. Yet spectacle is the last thing on Bayona's mind. The film's title and trailer may suggest a film to take your kids too, but A Monster Calls is a grounded and subdued drama similar to Bayona's breakthrough, the elegant and genuinely scary horror film The Orphanage (2007). While the emotional moments tread familiar ground and with this comes a sense of manipulation, there is a honesty to the performances, especially by the sad-eyed MacDougall, that help make this a lip-quivering experience. It didn't receive much attention during awards season and will no doubt pass most people by, but A Monster Calls is compelling study of a young boy struggling to understand his feelings and the events going on in the grown-up world around him.


Directed by: J.A. Bayona
Starring: Lewis MacDougall, Sigourney Weaver, Felicity Jones, Liam Neeson, Toby Kebbell
Country: UK/Spain/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,191: 'Split' (2016)

To say that the output of writer/director M. Night Shyamalan has been on a steady decline since his hit debut The Sixth Sense in 1999 would be a little bit of an understatement. While The Sixth Sense and his next feature Unbreakable (2000) had people announcing him as the next Steven Spielberg, the likes of Lady in the Water (2006) and, especially, The Happening (2008) left audiences scratching their heads at how this once-wunderkind could become such an absolute laughing stock. Each of his subsequent movies were inevitably built-up as the one in which Shyamalan would re-discover his form, only for them to receive a panning commercially and critically. However, it would seem that Shyamalan has finally located a smidgen of the talent teased in his early works with Split, a routine kidnapped-girls-in-peril horror elevated by an outstanding central performance.

Friends Claire (Haley Lu Richardson) and Marcia (Jessica Sula), along with 'weird' outsider Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy), are kidnapped in brought daylight by a stern-looking bespectacled man. They are locked in a windowless room by their captor, seemingly without any hope of escape. The girls soon to become puzzled by their abductor, who is a buttoned-up OCD-sufferer one minute, and speaking warmly while dressed in women's clothes the next. He also appears to them as a lisping, goofy 9 year old boy, and through the man's psychiatrist Dr. Karen Fletcher (Betty Buckley), we learn that the man, whose real name is Kevin, suffers from dissociative identity disorder (DID), and is harbouring 23 different personalities. He appears to Fletcher as Barry, but the doctor suspects that new personalities have emerged as dominant and that they putting the pieces in place for the arrival of a mysterious 24th personality, known as The Beast.

There is a fundamental issue with the characters of Split, and it's that the only one who truly matters is James McAvoy's Kevin, and the many personalities associated with him. Everyone else is reduced to either skimpily-clad horror-bait or exposition tool. The one exception is Casey, whose troubled background could mean that she shares more in common with her captor than we initially realise, but the film relies too heavily on lingering close-ups and clunky flashbacks to make any real impact. The other girls are only there to frustrate the audience with their terrible escape plans and inexplicably lose their clothing. Split is far more interesting when away from the kidnap plot and delving into the film's speculation on the potential of DID sufferers. Fletcher believes that different personalities can have different physical ailments, for example one could be paraplegic and the other able to run great distances, and theorises that they could even possess untapped powers. It's just a shame that her character is designed to do little more than explain this to us.

Yet while all the Shyamalan tics we've come to know and hate are present and annoying - such as his obligatory cameo and nails-down-a-blackboard dialogue spoken in the real world by nobody ever - Split really comes alive when McAvoy is on screen. He is scary, charming and funny, often all at once. In one scene, he dances around a character to pumping techno music, and this could be viewed as a suitable metaphor for how McAvoy puts his supporting cast to shame. This being Shyamalan, there is the inevitable twist ending, although it is not one that you could possibly guess. Just when I was at the point of thinking that he had gone and taken a story of potential and ran way too far with it, the final scene made me completely re-evaluate the entire movie. Don't get me wrong, it's nothing particularly clever, but it is a nice little bit of fan-service that helps put the movie into perspective and, I admit, left me giddy. Shyamalan is not "back to his best", and I think it's quite clear he never will be, but Split has at least got me somewhat excited for his next film. He'll never be forgiven for The Happening though.


Directed by: M. Night Shyamalan
Starring: James McAvoy, Anya Taylor-Joy, Betty Buckley, Haley Lu Richardson, Jessica Sula
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,188: 'La La Land' (2016)

There was a time I remember, sometime during the mid-to-late '90s, when the idea of watching a musical was laughable. It was a silly trend that was once popular with the movie-going audience back when cinema was relatively primitive, which saw a kitschy revival in the '70s and '80s with the likes of Grease (1978) and Xanadu (1980), but died a death when the rapid evolution of CGI made anything possible on screen. Then came Moulin Rouge! and its use of modernised classic tunes in 2001, and movie-goers have been in love with the genre again ever since. Its popularity shows no sign of stopping either, and writer/director Damien Chazelle, who made a big impression in 2014 with the excellent Whiplash, has sculpted one of the best musicals of recent times with the Oscar-nominated La La Land, a film that manages to feel both traditional and contemporary.

The film combines two elements clearly dear to Chazelle: The lavish musicals of the 1950s (and to a lesser degree the '40s), and pure jazz. The two wandering souls at the story's centre dream of leaving their mark in their respected fields, but both are in love with the past in industries always looking forward. Actress Mia (Emma Stone) spends time between humiliating and soul-crushing auditions serving coffee near a studio lot, where she occasionally crosses paths with a glamorous star as the rest of the room whisper excitedly. Musician Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) cannot resist ignoring the festive playlist at his restaurant haunt in favour of some improvisation on the piano - much to the annoyance of his boss Bill (J.K. Simmons) - while he dreams of opening his own traditional jazz bar. Sebastian is quick-tempered, neurotic, and plain rude, but Mia pursues him anyway. They fall in love, and express their feelings through impromptu song-and-dance routines.

Chazelle knows the genre inside out, and seems to favour the lavish MGM musicals and the glamorous physicality of the era's stars such as Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Opening with a near one-shot song-and-dance routine, beautifully photographed by Linus Sandgren, it goes on to deliver many dazzling and classical numbers, which are often glorious to behold and backed by a soundtrack of memorable tunes that manage to stay in your head for days afterwards. They are performed admirably by the central pair, who have real chemistry. One of the few saving graces of the Amazing Spider-Man films was the chemistry between Stone and Andrew Garfield, and here she sizzles with Gosling. It's the movie's main strength. Rather than merely go through the motions and familiar tropes, you really want them to be together. You can truly feel their happiness every time they see each other.

La La Land stutters when exploring deeper, more complex themes. The second act sees the two achieve some degree of success, with Mia developing a one-woman show and Sebastian joining up with a fellow musician played by John Legend in a band making waves in the world of jazz. Will Mia ultimately degrade herself in order to make it in a brutal industry that may not deserve her, and how can Sebastian, a hardcore old-schooler, be happy in a flashy group looking to move the genre forward? It seems like a poor excuse to simply tear the couple apart to experience their inevitable rough patch, and doesn't really fully explore the characters' emotional quandaries. But this slight lag doesn't last for very long, and the final moments are simply perfect. One of the great things about Whiplash was that final, heart-pounding moment of physical and spiritual triumph, and La La Land wraps up the story with grace and genuine tugs on the heartstrings. proving itself to be much more than a mere homage.


Directed by: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, John Legend, J.K. Simmons, Rosemarie DeWitt
Country: USA/Hong Kong

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie