Review #1,432: 'The Grinch' (2000)

Although his popularity is unrivalled in the US, children's author and illustrator Dr. Seuss is considerably less popular in the UK, where instead Roald Dahl occupies this role as creator of wonderful stories to inspire and influence the imaginations of children across the country. However, this hasn't prevented Ron Howard's The Grinch, or How the Grinch Stole Christmas, from becoming a beloved Christmas movie and establishing itself as a regular feature across the channels over the holidays. Having read the joyful story by Dr. Seuss, which manages to pack in a welcome message about the true importance of Christmas alongside The Grinch's journey from the feared monster at the top of the mountain to humbled hero with a heart two sizes bigger, I fail to understand how anybody can find any magic in this overwrought, ugly and sickly vehicle for Jim Carrey's camera-mugging shtick.

The population of Whoville are eagerly awaiting the arrival of Christmas, frantically hoarding presents and preparing for the yearly 'Holiday Cheermeister' overlooked by the town's narcissistic mayor Augustus Maywho (Jeffrey Tambor). At the top of the mountain casting a shadow over Whoville is the Grinch (Carrey), a joyless and selfish green creature who loathes the Whos and their constant celebrations. Pushed to breaking point by the eternal singing blowing up the mountainside, the Grinch heads into town dressed as Santa to pray a prank on the townsfolk. Precocious 6 year-old Cindy Lou Who (Taylor Momsen) takes pity on the creature and tries talking to him, only to be shoved into a postal machine for her efforts. He ends up reluctantly saving her life however, so Cindy Lou starts to explore his past, learning that he was once an ugly child who ran away after being bullied. She wants to teach him about the true meaning of Christmas and show her fellow Whos that they have nothing to fear by nominating him as the Cheermeister, but the Grinch, armed with a sleigh, his trusted dog Max and a giant vacuum, heads into town with other ideas.

The immediate problem faced by screenwriters Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman when adapting such a short tale is how to fill in the blanks with enough story and character development to stretch into a 90-minute feature, without losing the core message in the process. Apparently their plan was to hope Howard could create a colourful enough world to hold the kiddies' attention to cover up the glaring holes, and to throw in a number of meaningless sub-plots to add unwanted layers to characters who are charming for their simplicity. We get a backstory for the Grinch, along with a love triangle that will surely warm nobody's hearts, and enough time is saved so Jim Carrey can exhaustively flick his fingers and wrinkle his nose when he's not rolling around on the floor or eating glass. The film misses Seuss' point completely by making the Whos a bunch of intolerable consumers with pig-noses, who have long forgotten the more important things to savour during this time of year. It leaves just Cindy-Lou and her father as the only non-soulless, plastic robots with petty problems, so why would we care about them? Of course, it all heads towards the Grinch understanding that there is more to Christmas than material gain and gorging on food, but that doesn't stop the climax from being centred around saving everybody's presents. It's about spending time with your family and loved-ones you see, as long as there's plenty of crap to open come Christmas morning.


Directed by: Ron Howard
Starring: Jim Carrey, Taylor Momsen, Jeffrey Tambor, Christine Baranski, Bill Irwin, Molly Shannon
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,312: 'The Death of Stalin' (2017)

After spending most of the 1990s helping create the likes of The Day Today and I'm Alan Partridge - two of the greatest comedy works to have ever come out of Britain - satirist Armando Iannucci really made a name for himself with The Thick of It, a political farce centred around a bunch of politicians and spin doctors within a fictional government department going to ridiculous lengths to further their own careers and avoid the sack at the behest of an unseen prime minister. This led to the brilliant spin-off feature film In the Loop, before he would go on to tackle U.S. politics with acclaimed HBO series Veep. These groundbreaking satires now seem like they were a mere warm-up for his most ambitious project yet, The Death of Stalin, which covers the panic-stricken aftermath following the demise of one of the Soviet Union most notorious dictators, Joseph Stalin.

For the film, Iannucci has gathered together some of the finest British actors working today: those who are as comfortable with improvisation as they are with brooding monologues. Michael Palin is Molotov, the nervously chirpy minister who remained loyal to Stalin after the execution of his wife; Andrea Riseborough is Svetlana, Stalin's emotionally crumbled daughter; and Rupert Fried is the drunken son Vasily. Most impressive of all is Simon Russell Beale as the reptilian Lavrenti Beria, a man renowned for his love of rape and torture who is now desperately picking up the scraps and trying to seize power. Working against Beria is Steve Buscemi's Khrushchev, the former cabinet jester who may actually be the country's best bet. Trying to hold it all together is Jeffrey Tambor's timid Malenkov, who despite unwavering loyalty to his leader discovers his name on a death list before the big guy drops dead, and is installed as acting Premier shortly after.

There are many belly laughs to be enjoyed in The Death of Stalin, but Iannucci's approach to the subject matter often approaches horror territory. While the worst the players in The Thick of It faced was public embarrassment or a dressing down from Malcolm Tucker, here one ill-timed comment can land you with a bullet in the head. It's an incredibly scary place, where characters stroll nonchalantly through grey buildings as screams and gunshots hum in the background, and people are taken from their homes by armed officers for some imagined slight. The comedy and tragedy are incredibly well-balanced, and intensifies the absurdity of political life to genuinely concerning levels. Watching the terrible events unfold as these desperate men stutter and scurry around like rats, willing to back-stab and manipulate their colleagues without pausing for breath if it means buying themselves some extra time, is irresistible. As you would expect, Iannucci's script (co-written by David Schneider and Ian Martin) is expletive-laden and sharp as a dagger, and the entire ensemble are at the top of their game. It's unlikely The Death of Stalin will ever see a release in Russia, but someone should definitely suggest Putin adds it to his IMDb watchlist.


Directed by: Armando Iannucci
Starring: Steve Buscemi, Simon Russell Beale, Jeffrey Tambor, Andrea Riseborough, Michael Palin, Paddy Considine, Jason Isaacs, Rupert Friend, Olga Kurylenko
Country: UK/France/Belgium

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,144: 'The Accountant' (2016)

Audiences are obsessed with superheroes these days. Perhaps it's down to these caped crusaders offering a more straightforward answer to crime and corruption or the genre's lack of grey morals in our increasingly confusing world, but it's nearly impossible to avoid coming across a meta-human of some description in the multiplexes. While he may not have been bitten by a radioactive spider or possess the mutant gene, Ben Affleck's Christian Wolff is every inch a superhero. His power, as he describes it, is high-functioning autism, which means that he makes sure everything in view is at its proper angle before tucking into a meal, and tends to freak out when he doesn't see something through to the very end. Oh, and he's also a master of hand-to-hand combat and owns an arsenal of weapons so ridiculously huge that even Chuck Norris would blush at the sight of it.

Gavin O'Connor's The Accountant begins by introducing us to Wolff, who at first appears to live a low-key life for a small-town accountancy firm, eating dinner alone every night in what is clearly a strict routine. He's also a mathematical genius, using his skills as a mental calculator to cook the books for some of the world's wealthiest and most dangerous criminal organisations. His latest job is to audit the books of expanding corporation Living Robotics, whose low-level employee Dana (Anna Kendrick) has found numerous discrepancies when conducting her own audit. Christian ignores Dana's months of work and finds the missing money overnight, turning the office windows into a huge equation (seemingly the go-to quirk for movie geniuses). The company's CEO Lamar Blackburn (John Lithgow) decides it's case closed when the chief financial offers turns up dead the next day, apparently of a deliberate insulin overdose.

There's also much more going on away from the central character. Ray King (J.K. Simmons), a director at the Treasury Department, knows of Christian's alias as the 'Accountant', and has pictures to prove his association with some incredibly powerful and scary men. He blackmails data analyst Marybeth (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) into assisting him after exposing her petty criminal past, with only the photos and a few known alias to work from. An unnervingly charming hitman named Brax, whose motivations and true intentions are kept hazy at best, keeps popping up every now and then, and he is played marvellously by Jon Bernthal. There's also Christian's backstory to get through - the discovery of his 'disability', his strict military father who wants to toughen his son up so he can function in the real world, and his combat training. It's a hell of a lot to cram into 2 hours and 8 minutes, and this would be frustrating were in not for the distraction of the movie's willingness to take its character into such increasingly preposterous situations.

To put you in the picture, Christian Wolff is the combination of two of Affleck's buddy Matt Damon's most iconic characters: Jason Bourne and Will Hunting - although Bourne was never so eager to shoot people in the face. It could certainly be argued that this is Affleck's fourth outing as a superhero (after Daredevil, Superman and Batman), and at times he may as well be donning the cowl as he effortlessly punches and blasts his way through hoards of bad guys. After all, it's been theorised that Bruce Wayne suffers from a form of autism. The action is incredible at times; a mixture of The Raid's Pencak silat and John Wick's hyper-stylised gun porn. Yet, 'entertaining' is all that The Accountant aspires to be, and any suggestions of a more studios portrayal of autism raised during the quieter and more humorous first half gives way to generic audience-pleasing. It survives on its tantalising and original premise and the strength of its lead's subtle performance, and I would certainly watch a follow-up.


Directed by: Gavin O'Connor
Starring: Ben Affleck, Anna Kendrick, J.K. Simmons, Jon Bernthal, Jeffrey Tambor, Cynthia Addai-Robinson, John Lithgow, Jean Smart
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie