Review #1,475: 'The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part' (2019)

Before Phil Lord and Christopher Miller surprised everybody with one of the best films of 2014, the idea of a movie based on a toy line seemed like a rather hopeless idea. Yes, the building blocks and miniature figures of Lego have been adored by both children and adults alike for decades, but they are still produced by a company whose main focus is naturally on your wallets. It felt inevitable that The Lego Movie would be a soulless feature-length advertisement, but not only did it feature some of the most eye-popping CG animation in recent memory (which also felt hand-crafted), it also melted our hearts by taking the action into the real world, where we discover that events are being conjured by the imagination of a young boy. His father, an avid collector played by Will Ferrell, had forgotten the true meaning of playtime. Lego, after all, is about whatever you want it to be.

The Lego Movie wasn't just great, it was awesome. It was also unfairly snubbed by the Academy, but with a worldwide box-office gross of just shy of $500 million, Lord and Miller's film was a huge hit and seemingly the beginning of a lucrative new big-screen franchise. The Lego Batman Movie was next, successfully capitalising on the appeal of Will Arnett's supporting character and opening up Lego's own DC universe. The juggernaut started to creak and show signs of fatigue with The Lego Ninjago Movie however, which arrived the same year as Batman, so the brand was allowed a bit of time to breathe before its next instalment. The big question is does The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part steer this yellow-tinged universe back on course, or has it burnt itself out? The good news is that this sequel is far more the former than the latter, but despite the skills of Lord and Miller on the screenplay (Mike Mitchell has moved in to direct), it does suffer slightly from sequelitis.

The end of The Lego Movie saw the arrival of the real-world family's young girl on the playing field, and with her comes unicorns and Duplo, both unwelcome arrivals in the world built up by the young boy. As a result, Bricksburg has become Apocalypseburg, a Mad Max-esque wasteland turned to dust by the invading Duplo aliens. While Wyldstyle/Lucy (Elizabeth Banks) finds the wastelands a perfect place in which to brood and gaze seriously into the distance, Emmet (Chris Pratt) maintains an upbeat attitude, enthusiastically purchasing his morning coffees and listening to remixes of his favourite song, Everything Is Awesome. Despite being plagued by visions of Armageddon, Emmet builds Lucy their dream home, but their attempts to live a normal life are scuppered by the arrival of intergalactic traveller Sweet Mayhem (Stephanie Beatriz), a mini-doll from the 'Systar System' who has come to take the strongest leader away to marry Queen Watevra Wa'Nabi (Tiffany Haddish). Naturally, that leader is Batman, and he along with Lucy, Benny (Charlie Day), MetalBeard (Nick Offerman) and Unikitty (Alison Brie), find themselves kidnapped and taken to another galaxy.

The premise sounds fun and that's precisely what it is. It maintains the madcap energy of the first film and brings back memorable characters, throwing in more meta-jokes and visual gags than you can shake a stick at. But The Lego Movie was fun and so much more, and Lord and Miller really set the bar high for any future sequels. The Second Part keeps the family thread going, this time with Mom (Maya Rudolph) trying to keep the peace between older son and younger daughter, but doesn't bring anything new to the table. One of the funnest aspects of the original was tying to keep up the amount of characters from both pop culture and real life showing their faces, but the supporting cast seems much thinner this time around. There's a joke about Marvel not returning the calls, and in fact no characters from the world of Disney show their faces. More focus could have been given to other DC figures who show up, particularly Channing Tatum's Superman and Jonah Hill's Green Lantern, who both seem to be having a great time behind the microphone. It's still a rollicking ride, and it only seems like a slight let-down because, somehow, we have come to expect something special from these Lego romps. The film boasts a new catchy song called, um, Catchy Song, which warns 'This song's gonna get stuck inside your head." And in your head it will certainly remain, but the rest of the movie sadly won't.


Directed by: Mike Mitchell
Voices: Chris Pratt, Elizabeth Banks, Will Arnett, Tiffany Haddish, Stephanie Beatriz, Maya Rudolph
Country: Denmark/Norway/Australia/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,466: 'Mary Poppins Returns' (2018)

With many studios these days greenlighting reboots, spin-offs and remakes, it's actually quite refreshing to get a good old-fashioned sequel to a beloved classic. It worked for Blade Runner, and - somewhat surprisingly - it also works for Mary Poppins. A sequel to Robert Stevenson's 1964 family classic has been stuck in development hell for decades, with original author P. L. Travers proving notoriously difficult to work with. She despised what Walt Disney had done to her work, although she admired certain aspects, so while she was still alive, a follow-up would only see the light of the day on her own very strict terms. We almost saw the return of the nanny who is practically perfect in every way in the 1980s, with a screenplay by Travers and her friend Brian Sibley, but Julie Andrews' reluctance to return meant the film quickly fell apart. Some 55 years later, Poppins finally returns in the form of Emily Blunt, and there is plenty to enjoy for both adults who adored the original growing up and children new to this unique world.

It's 1930, and siblings Michael (Ben Whishaw) and Jane Banks (Emily Mortimer) are all grown up. They remember the nanny who raised them but believe the magic she displayed was all part of their youthful imaginations. Michael is now a widowed banker and takes after his father, while Jane mirrors her mother in that she is ever the optimist. Still living at Cherry Tree Lane and forced to raise his three children - Annabel (Pixie Davies), John (Nathanael Saleh) and Georgie (Joel Dawson) - on his own, things aren't going well for Michael. With grief consuming him, the bills have gone unpaid, and the bank, headed by new chairman William Wilkins (Colin Firth), have served a notice threatening to repossess the house if the loan isn't paid back in full. Spirits are lifted by the re-appearance of Mary Poppins, who offers to look after the children while the adults get their affairs in order. With the help of cheery Cockney lamplighter Jack (Lin-Manuel Miranda), Annabel, John and Georgie are whisked off into a world of musical numbers and talking cartoon animals, and learn that when you think you've reached the bottom, the only way is up.

There's not much going on in terms of plot in Mary Poppins Returns, but things weren't much different last time around. Director Rob Marshall and writer David Magee are far more concerned with pulling you into a fantastical world of catchy songs, breathtaking dance numbers, and lovingly rendered hand-drawn animation. Tunes like 'Tip a Little Light Fantastic' and '(Underneath the) London Sky' are clearly trying to copy iconic moments from the original (with Miranda playing the Dick Van Dyke supporting role), but composer Marc Shaiman and lyricist Scott Wittman have found a way to wonderfully capture the essence of the original while adding a modern twist. Blunt, who seems to be fan-cast for just about every upcoming role, proves to be the perfect choice for Poppins. Stern but playful, strict yet mischievous, she embraces Andrews' iconic performance and adds much sparkle of her own, displaying a knack for comedy timing that went unjustly unrecognised by the Academy. She wouldn't be complete without an enthusiastic sidekick, and Miranda is on great form, speaking with an accent that fares only slightly better than Van Dyke's, but that was all part of what made the original so memorable. Mary Poppins Returns isn't quite practically perfect in every way, but as far as sequels to childhood staples go, it rarely fails to charm or tug the heartstrings.


Directed by: Rob Marshall
Starring: Emily Blunt, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Ben Whishaw, Emily Mortimer, Pixie Davies, Nathanael Saleh, Joel Dawson, Julie Walters, Meryl Streep, Colin Firth
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,447: 'Cinderella 2000' (1977)

The Golden Age of Porn kicked off in 1969 following the release of Andy Warhol's Blue Movie and spread across the globe from there. Pornography always consisted of a few magazines found under your father's mattress, but Warhol helped usher the form into mainstream cinemas, and soon enough even movie critics were taking them seriously. The likes of The Devil in Miss Jones and Deep Throat were huge hits on modest budgets, and aspiring filmmakers were keen to take advantage once they had a camera and a few willing participants. One of the many tricks employed by these filmmakers to draw in audiences was to adapt a well-known story that required no rights purchase or special permission, and fairytales offered a bottomless barrel of stories to plunder. Al Adamson's Cinderella 2000, which transports the action to a near-future where society is ruled over by a dictator and 'fornication' is outlawed, is one of the most famous examples of these smutty fairytales.

The beautiful young Cindy (Catharine Burgess) lives with her horny stepmother (Renee Harmon) and two stepsisters Bella (Bhurni Cowans) and Stella (Adina Ross). Because sex is strictly prohibited by order of the totalitarian government ruled by 'The Controller' (Erwin Fuller), the women have never had sex, and spend most of their time trying to seduce moutachioed guards or writhing around on the floor. Young stud Tom Prince (Vaughn Armstrong) is one of the few deemed worthy enough by the Controller to make love, but the poor horndog has grown dismayed by the lack of passion shown by his partners. After voicing his concerns, the Controller agrees to hold a grand ball to ease the public's sexual frustrations. With the help of her Fairy Godfather (Jay B. Larson), Cindy is soon suited and booted and ready for the party. Of course, she is the only one to catch Tom's eye, and the couple enjoy a night of steamy passion. But when the clock strikes midnight, Cindy dashes off back home. Desperate to find the woman who reignited the fire within him, Tom sets off on his search, and he is prepared to sleep with every woman in the country if he must.

Cinderella 2000 is a rather bizarre concoction, blending sci-fi, musical, comedy and, of course, erotica, with often psychedelic results. While I'll certainly never see the film again, the sheer weirdness of it all means that I'm not likely to forget it anytime soon. There's a robot who strictly enforces the Controller's rules while singing about his desire to 'plug' himself into the other sexy devices around him. At least that's what I think he was singing about, as his voice is so muffled his dialogue is barely comprehensible. There are also Benny Hill-esque romps under the covers and sets so wobbly even Herchell Gordon Lewis would blush. Of course, it all adds to the charm of these kinds of films, but charm is always better in hindsight. To actually sit through the film - which runs for 100 minutes - is a chore. Cinderella 2000 just about gets away with it thanks to some surprisingly catchy musical numbers, a quirky sense of humour, and a script so completely bonkers that you just have to admire the creativity.


Directed by: Al Adamson
Starring: Catharine Burgess, Jay B. Larson, Vaughn Armstrong, Erwin Fuller, Renee Harmon
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,439: 'Alice in Wonderland' (1951)

Long before animation pioneer Walt Disney wowed the cinema-going world with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs - one of the first feature-length animated films ever made - in 1937, the innovator was long dreaming of adapting Lewis Carroll's books Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its follow-up Through the Looking Glass. He made a short adaptation called Alice's Wonderland, which mixed live-action and animation, for the Laugh-O-Gram Studio in 1923, but never let go of the idea after the studio went bankrupt and he left for Hollywood. Disney's dream wouldn't be fully realised until 14 years after Snow White, when Alice in Wonderland was finally unveiled in 1951. The film flopped upon release, with audiences failing to be seduced by the many colourful yet incredibly weird characters on show, but through television screenings and subsequent revivals, Alice is now an established classic amongst Disney's animated classics.

As her sister reads under a tree, the young Alice (Kathryn Beaumont) dreams of adventure, choosing to explore her own imagination rather than the tales told in books. As she sings by a riverbank, she spots a white rabbit (Bill Thompson) carrying a huge pocket watch. The White Rabbit is late for an important meeting and dashes off into a large rabbit hole. Ever curious, Alice follows him, eventually entering a world in which logic has no place, everything is backward, and everybody is ever so slightly mad. Her adventure into this strange new world leads her to the rather frightening identical twins Tweedledum and Tweedledee (both voiced by J. Pat O'Malley), a garden of singing flowers who soon reveal their weirdly fascist outlook, a hookah-smoking caterpillar (Richard Haydn), the mischievous Cheshire Cat (Sterling Holloway), and, of course, a truly mad tea party hosted by the Mad Hatter (Ed Wynn) and March Hare (Jerry Colonna). This bizarre world known as Wonderland seems to offer no way out, so Alice seeks help from the tyrannical and homicidal Queen of Hearts (Verna Felton), who has a fondness for removing heads.

There is really no meaning or hidden depths to be found in Carroll's books, and Disney's adaptation is no different. It seems to exist simply as a celebration of the wonders of childish imagination and an opportunity for creative abandon. The result is a nonsensical story with little time for structure or purpose, but one that has stood the test of time through the wonderful characters it imagines. It's an often frustrating experience that offers little sense of direction, and I wouldn't be surprised if some younger viewers were put off by the narrative's excessive randomness or utterly terrified by some of the more sinister characters on show. Yet Disney knew exactly how he wanted to portray these characters, and backed by some stellar talent behind the microphone, Alice in Wonderland prevails as a series of memorable vignettes. The Mad Hatter and Cheshire Cat are now embedded into the fabric of pop culture, and that is mainly thanks to Disney and his team of animators. These are truly insane, even malevolent, characters, but Disney knows how to make them lovable, even when they are toying with our protagonist or leading her further into the madness. It's more a nightmare you can't wake up from than a children's adventure story, and while it won't top many people's lists of favourite Disney movies, there is a unique sense of wonder here that could not be found in Tim Burton's over-stylised 2010 remake.


Directed by: Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske
Voices: Kathryn Beaumont, Ed Wynn, Richard Haydn, Sterling Holloway, Jerry Colonna, Verna Felton, J. Pat O'Malley
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,424: 'The Ballad of Buster Scruggs' (2018)

The Coen brothers have long weaved their love of the western genre into their movies, whether it be capturing its core essence with the likes of Blood Simple and Raising Arizona, or tackling the genre head-on with No Country for Old Men and True Grit. Their latest, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, which makes its way onto Netflix after a limited theatrical release, sees the siblings hark back to the horse operas of old. Initially marked as an anthology series, it soon evolved into a feature of six unrelated stories, bound together only by the imaginary pages of the short-story book we as the viewer are supposed to be reading. The final product suffers from the same problems faced by any film attempting the portmanteau format - a couple are great, some are either frustratingly short or unnecessarily drawn-out, and at least one you'll be struggling to remember after the credits have rolled.

There's also the feeling that Buster Scruggs blows its load far too early, as the titular Ballad, featuring one of Tim Blake Nelson's best performances, struts into town on the back of a horse carrying the smoothest country singer and deadliest gunslinger in the West, and knocks it out of the park. It's a bizarre little tale that mixes the yodell-y crooning of those white hat vs. black hat genre pictures of old with bursts of the ironic, darkly humorous violence the Coens are so well known for. The tunes are wonderful, the cinematography (by Bruno Delbonnel) is ingeniously inventive (watch out for that shot from inside the guitar), and Nelson is a lively narrator. It ends too soon, and you can't help but think that a standalone feature for the sharply-dressed Buster Scruggs may have been warranted instead. The next story, Near Algodones, sees James Franco's roaming thief hold up the wrong bank and come under fire from the gun-toting teller, played by Stephen Root. It's supposed to be a funny tale of irony and karma, but ultimately feels like an afterthought in the wake of Scruggs' more well-rounded story.

Meal Ticket is more sombre in tone, following opportunistic impresario Harrison (Liam Neeson) and his performer, the legless and armless Artist, who is played with great poise by Harry Melling (Dudley Dursley from the Harry Potter films). There is a great idea here, one fraught with tragedy and sorrow, but it simply doesn't have enough time to fully develop its ideas. Slotting nicely alongside Buster Scruggs as a stand-out piece is All Gold Canyon, in which Tom Waits' grizzled prospector digs for gold in an untouched valley. It's like the opening scene of There Will Be Blood, only this also has a nice surprise in store as the weather-beaten old man searches for 'Mr. Pocket', the place in the ground holding his grand prize. The remaining two stories, The Gal Who Got Rattled and The Mortal Remains, touch on romance and horror elements, as the characters are transported by wagon train and stagecoach, respectively, to the destination that may or may not await them. They round off a mish-mash of tones and themes, and although they each have individual merits, they simply don't gel together or flow naturally. Fans will no doubt find some wonderful stuff here, as I did, but recommended only for Nelson and Waits, whose stories are up there with some of the Coens' very best.


Directed by: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Starring: Tim Blake Nelson, James Franco, Liam Neeson, Harry Melling, Tom Waits, Zoe Kazan, Bill Heck, Tyne Daly, Brendan Gleeson, Jonjo O'Neill
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,421: 'Mulan' (1998)

Based on the Chinese folktale of a woman who disguised herself as a man in order to battle against the Hun and help protect her homeland, Disney's Mulan came at a strange time for the juggernaut studio. While still riding the wave of its own 90's renaissance in the wake of smash-hits Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King, it was also watching another studio, Pixar, emerge as its greatest competition, and Pixar's use of computer animation was in danger of rendering Disney's traditional hand-drawn pictures obsolete. Of course, Disney would go on to gobble up its rival and take the studio under its sizeable wing, but back in 1998, Mulan, although a box-office hit, didn't leave the same mark as Pixar's effort that year, A Bug's Life. As a result, Mulan was remembered as one of Disney's lesser 90's efforts, but time has aged the film incredibly well. It doesn't feel like one of the last of a dying breed to be pushed out before computer animation took over completely, but a joyous reminder of how timeless and splendid hand-drawn animation can be.

The Huns, led by the fearsome Shan Yu (Miguel Ferrer) have breached the Great Wall and invaded China, causing the Emperor to hand out conscription notices that demand one man from every household. The elderly Fa Zhou (Soon-Tek Oh) has fought his country's wars before, but he nevertheless tosses aside his cane and dusts off his old sword and amour. His daughter, Fa Mulan (Ming-Na Wen), doesn't want to see her withered father march off to his death and so steals the armour and heads off to the join the army in his place. Her country doesn't allow for women to fight, so Mulan ties up her hair, deepens her voice, and puts on her most manly stance for her new commander, the handsome and formidable Li Shang (BD Wong). The spirits of her ancestors summon a tiny dragon named Mushu (Eddie Murphy) who they hope will convince her to return, but the gong-ringer decides instead to help Mulan battle against the Huns. With Li Shang's training and guidance, Mulan and her unit are transformed into warriors, but are they ready to face off against the mighty Shan Yu?

Mulan distinguishes itself from the rest of the Disney back catalogue with its wartime setting and location in a foreign, ancient land. While it may still carry familiar themes of finding your inner strength and being true to yourself, there's no doubting that a darker and more serious tone runs through the story's centre. The violence is kept to a minimum so it's all still family-friendly, but the stakes feel higher, and there's a real sense of dread when Mulan and Li Shang first lay their eyes on the charging Hun. This weightier atmosphere is also helped by Mulan herself, who is less a traditional princess longing to meet her true love than a fully-formed, believable character who is learning to adapt at all costs in a world that will do everything it can to try and stop her. Disney still couldn't resist a tacked-on ending that seems to go against everything that was said and suggested before, which is a shame, as Mulan is evidence that Disney was tackling issues of diversity and gender equality long before it became a social media revolution. This doesn't have the catchy tunes of Beauty and the Beast or the adorable characters of The Lion King, but Mulan has its fair share of moments, packed with elegant animation and compelling action.


Directed by: Tony Bancroft, Barry Cook
Voices: Ming-Na Wen, Eddie Murphy, BD Wong, Miguel Ferrer, Harvey Fierstein, Gedde Watanabe
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,308: 'Peter Pan' (1953)

For their fourteenth entry into the Walt Disney Animated Classics series, the kid-friendly studio adapted the hugely popular 1904 play and 1911 novel by J.M. Barrie Peter Pan; or the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up. Barrie's story was a huge success, and continues to delight children and adults alike even today. There have been many adaptations both on film and television (the first was a 1924 silent movie), but none quite as popular as this 1953 version, which is now considered the definitive imagining of Neverland, Tinker Bell and the titular hero himself. Despite some glaring problems that will no doubt make many modern viewers watching it for the first time rather uncomfortable, Disney's Peter Pan still looks absolutely gorgeous and delivers a pretty fun ride.

You already know the story, but I'll regurgitate it anyway. Wendy Darling (Kathryn Beaumont) is on the eve of 'growing up', but enjoys discussing and acting out the adventures of Peter Pan so much with her younger brothers John (Paul Collins) and Michael (Tommy Luske) that she wishes she could stay a child just a little bit longer. That night, as the children's parents head out for the night, they are visited by the flying Peter Pan (Bobby Driscoll), who appears to have lost his shadow, and his fairy friend Tinker Bell. With a sprinkling of fairy dust, the Darlings fly off with Pan back to Neverland where they meet The Lost Boys, a feral group of boys dressed as animals who obey Pan's every command. But anchored just off the coast is evil pirate Captain Hook (Hans Conried), who wants to finally put an end to Pan's hijinks. Along with his confidant Mr. Smee (Bill Thompson), he plans to use Tinker Bell's jealousy of Wendy to manipulate her into luring the gang into a trap.

I must admit that I didn't love Peter Pan as I was expecting, but I certainly enjoyed it. Fans who have grow up watching the film hold it in incredibly high regard, and I can understand why, but I feel I would be more on their wavelength had I seen it as a child. This is, after all, a story about staying young forever, and all the selfishness and carelessness that comes with it. Disney's famed Nine Old Men don't disappoint, carefully and magically bringing this world to life with some incredible backdrops. Say what you will about modern-day advancements, but the characters in Peter Pan feel just as alive as any computer-animated film today. Hook is also a highlight, sneering with relish at the bumbling Smee when he isn't curling up like a baby at the sight of the crocodile that took his hand. My main issue is that Pan is rather grating. He is certainly a true reflection of the care-free cockiness of many children, but deep down I was hoping that Hook would at least land a slap of two. And the less said about the portrayal of Native Americans (who sing a song called "What Made the Red Man Red?") the better.


Directed by: Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske
Voices: Bobby Driscoll, Kathryn Beaumont, Hans Conried, Bill Thompson, Heather Angel
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,253: 'French Cancan' (1955)

Jean Renoir is quite rightly remembered as one of the greatest directors of all time, having been responsible for the likes of La Grande Illusion and La Regle du Jeu, two movies that regularly feature highly on many 'greatest films of all time' lists. His most popular films were made in the 1930s, before the outbreak of World War II, and before he fled to Hollywood when France fell to the Nazis. After struggling to find any projects that suited him in the U.S., Renoir eventually returned to his native country where he started work on a project seemingly out of his comfort zone: a trilogy of bright and bouncing musical comedies. These films were The Golden Coach, Elena and Her Men, and, sandwiched between them, French Cancan.

French Cancan is filmed deliberately to evoke the paintings of the great Impressionist painters, including Renoir's own father, Pierre-Auguste. Set in 1980s Paris, this is the (fictional) origin of the Moulin Rouge, and, like Baz Luhrmann's spectacular Moulin Rouge! released 46 years later, the tale is told with elements of fantasy and lashings of colour. With his failing cafe about to fall in the hands of the creditors, the womanising Henri Danglard (Jean Gabin) hatches a plan whilst out one night in Montmartre with his rich colleagues and belly-dancing mistress Lola (Maria Felix). He will bring back the cancan, re-naming it the 'French Cancan' in order to sound more exotic to visiting Russian and American sailors. He eyes the beautiful Nini (Francoise Arnoul) and offers to pay for her to have dance lessons, enraging her jealous boyfriend. With chaos growing all around him, Danglard calmly tries to hold it all together in time for the big opening night.

Clearly indulging his love for theatre, Renoir really goes for broke with French Cancan, infusing the many love triangles and business arrangements going on with a bawdy, almost slapstick quality. Jean Gabin, the terrific actor Renoir employed on a number of occasions, manages to express so much by doing so little, and always with a sly grin on his face. It is a far better performance than is even required for such a character, and he offers an extra dimension to the work-horse who cares as much about putting on a dazzling, memorable show as he does for the leggy girls he employs. The titular dance at the climax is as eye-catching and fantastical as anything produced by Hollywood during the genre's Golden Age, and perhaps this was something Renoir picked up from his time there. Of the musical trilogy, French Cancan was the only hit, and it isn't difficult to see why this whimsical re-telling of the origin of one of the most iconic locations of its time struck such a chord with audiences at the time.


Directed by: Jean Renoir
Starring: Jean Gabin, Françoise Arnoul, María Félix, Anna Amendola, Jean-Roger Caussimon
Country: France/Italy

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,197: 'The Tales of Hoffmann' (1951)

Michael Powell, the great underappreciated British film director mainly recognised for his work alongside Hungarian Emeric Pressburger, spent most of his early career working towards the perfect marriage of the power of operatic music and the visual splendour of cinema. This can be glimpsed in the masterpieces Black Narcissus (1947), The Red Shoes (1948), and to a certain degree, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1949), but it wasn't until 1951 that he completed his ultimate goal. With The Tales of Hoffmann, an adaptation of Jacques Offenbach's flamboyant opera, Powell and Pressburger achieved what no other film has succeeded in doing since: bringing the opera to life on screen and infusing it with all the colour and vibrancy of cinema. Martin Scorsese, an lifelong admirer of P & P, recently oversaw a 4K remastering of the movie; the perfect medium to take in this lavish picture.

Staying true to the structure of Offenbach's vision, The Tales of Hoffmann comes with a prologue, epilogue, and three central acts all centred around the past loves of man-of-the-world Hoffmann (Robert Rounseville). As a stage performance featuring his current love plays out in the background, Hoffmann tells an eager group of friends of three women he has loved and lost. The first act, which is the brightest and most farcical, sees him duped into loving an automaton called Olympia (played by the beautiful Moira Shearer) by a pair of magical glasses that seemingly bring inanimate objects to life. The second act takes place in a hellish Venice, where an evil magician promises his courtesan Giulietta (Ludmilla Tcherina) expensive jewellery in exchange for her seduction of Hoffmann and the theft of his shadow. In the third and final act, Hoffmann falls for Antonia (Ann Ayars), a soprano suffering from a mysterious illness that forbids her to sing.

The disregard for traditional cinematic narrative structure means that The Tales of Hoffmann is certainly an acquired taste, but there is also nothing else quite like it. Backed by a thumping score from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Thomas Beecham and brought to life with ravishing set and costume design by Hein Heckroth (who was Oscar nominated twice for the film), Hoffmann is a treat for all the senses. It's particularly adored by filmmakers, with Cecil DeMille voicing his admiration for the film, and George A. Romero stating it to be his favourite movie of all time and the reason he wanted to become a director. There are also fine performances throughout, in particular Moira Shearer, who I fell head over heels for in The Red Shoes, and Robert Helpmann, the Child Catcher himself, who plays Hoffmann's nemesis in all the stories. Only Rounseville and Ayars perform their own vocals, but the film is graceful enough to reward the vocalists by a credits sequence that sees both singers and performers take a bow.


Directed by: Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger
Starring: Robert Rounseville, Robert Helpmann, Moira Shearer, Ludmilla Tchérina, Ann Ayars
Country: UK

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

Review #1,159: 'Moana' (2016)

While Walt Disney Animation Studios have been providing escapism for both children and adults since the 1930s, their attitudes towards more 'exotic' cultures and portrayal of certain racial stereotypes - especially in their early days - have always raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this is why they are now leading the charge in diversity, and after gobbing up billion-dollar franchises and taking them underneath their wing are now dishing up hugely successful blockbusters led by strong-willed heroines and multi-ethnic ensembles. Following the unexpectedly poignant Zootopia earlier this year, the studio have struck gold once again with Moana, a dazzling if comfortable step back into more traditional Disney territory.

As the daughter of chief Tui (Temuera Morrison) of the Polynesian island Motunui, the young and naturally curious Moana (Auli'i Cravalho) has a duty to remain with her family to watch over her people. But she has dreams of sailing out to sea to explore the unknown lands beyond the horizon, and it would seem that the sea agrees with her, as it parts to reveal a precious stone early on before her father insists that she return home. The island has always provided everything the inhabitants need to survive and flourish, but without warning, fish numbers are starting to dwindle and the coconuts are rotting, and it would seem that an age-old fable of the theft of island goddess Te Fiti's heart is to blame. The story names powerful demigod Maui as the thief, and tells how he was later shipwrecked by a lava demon after losing the heart and his magical fish hook. Defying her father's wishes, Moana goes in search of Maui to restore the heart and save her island from starvation.

Written by, amongst others, Disney legends Ron Clements and John Musker, Moana is incredibly straight-forward, reaching back to the likes of The Little Mermaid (1989), Aladdin (1992) and Hercules (1997) for a proven formula that served them so well during the studio's renaissance. The film often reflects on this, with Maui (voiced by Dwayne Johnson, who always sings and does it well) pointing out that although she may not be a princess per se, she has the look, spirit and animal sidekick to fit the profile. It doesn't take long to pick up on the fact that you're not watching anything striving for originality, but you'll be too taken aback by the gorgeous visuals on show and the stellar voice acting bringing these familiar Disney archetypes to life to care. Very much a warmer companion piece to Frozen (2013), Moana feels both classical and very modern.

Also like Frozen, there are many memorable tunes to enjoy, here by Broadway composer and playwright Lin-Manuel Miranda and Oceanic musician Opetaia Foa'i, although none of which will reach the dizzy heights of 'Let It Go'. One particularly toe-tapping number comes from Jemaine Clement as a treasure-hording crab, whose unmistakably Flight of the Conchords-esque twang may suggest he had more input that simply providing the vocal chords. Yet for all the jaw-dropping animation and comic relief prat-falls of pet rooster Heihei (Alan Tudyk), the main strength of Moana is Moana herself; stubborn, intelligent and incredibly capable, she doesn't rely on men to save the day, nor does she get distracted by a love interest. It's here that Disney manage to subtly subvert expectations without rubbing your face in it, creating a well-rounded and believable character in the process. An extremely worthy addition to Disney's princess canon, Moana proves that a dose of heart and imagination can reignite even the most done-to-death of formulas.


Directed by: Ron Clements, John Musker
Voices: Auli'i Cravalho, Dwayne Johnson, Rachel House, Temuera Morrison, Jemaine Clement, Alan Tudyk
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,125: 'Frozen' (2013)

Disney cannot seem to do much wrong these days. With Marvel, Pixar and Lucasfilm now under their wing, and billions of dollars rolling in as a result of those franchises, it's easy to forget that they were built on beautiful, groundbreaking hand-drawn animation that had children and adults alike utterly bewitched. With Pixar taking the lead as the modern-day innovators of animation, it's been a while since Disney delivered a 'cartoon' that really resonated with audiences on the level of, say, Dumbo (1941), The Jungle Book (1967) or The Lion King (1994). That all changed with Frozen, with the film raking in over $1 billion at the box office and receiving an Oscar for Best Animated Feature, as well as triumphing in the merchandise department. It's also now near-impossible to avoid hearing 'Let It Go' at Christmas time.

In the land of Arandelle, sisters Elsa and Anna enjoy a close friendship, with Elsa possessing the powers to manipulate ice and turn the most miserable of rooms into a dream-like playground. They are also princesses living in a huge castle, with their much-loved parents ruling the land as they play. After Elsa accidentally injures her sister as they play in the snow, her parents take her to a group of trolls who heal her, but insist that her memories of Elsa's powers are wiped to protect her from future harm. Elsa agrees, and locks herself in her bedroom, shunning the confused and lonely Anna. Years later, the king and queen are lost at sea, so the town prepares for the Elsa's (voiced by Idina Menzel) coronation. With the soon-to-be-queen unable to control her powers, she flees Arandelle, leaving it frozen in her wake. With the Duke of Weselton (Alan Tudyk) hoping to seize power in her absence, Anna (Kristen Bell) goes in pursuit of her sister, with hunky ice trader Kristoff (Jonathan Groff) and his dopey reindeer for company.

I was somewhat perplexed for the first third of Frozen. Early versions of the script had a more formulaic good sister vs bad sister dynamic, with an evil Elsa hijacking her sisters wedding and deliberately trying to kill her. The changes implemented were undoubtedly for the better, making for a much more interesting central relationship in the process, but this may also be the reason that several aspects are left unexplained. The origin of Elsa's powers raises the biggest question mark, with the film expecting the audience to simply accept her abilities as one of the quirks of a magical, fairytale land. Do we need a full explanation of how the princess can conjure an ice palace a la Dr. Manhattan and give life to goofy snowman Olaf (Josh Gad)? Well, no, but a little perspective would not be quite as jarring. The memory-erasing of Anna also seems somewhat harsh, with the extent of her injury never quite explored.

Still, Frozen succeeds by taking a formula that has served Disney well for decades and tweaking it for a modern audience. Instead of a snarling bad guy, we get the conflicted Elsa, a young girl with unfathomable powers who plays the role of anti-hero on occasion. The central love story is not between a beautiful princess and a handsome hero, but between two sisters whose bond is stronger than any destructive power. While I'm sick to death of hearing Let It Go, the moment Menzel belts out the infectious tune during the film is a wonderful moment. The remainder of the songs aren't quite as catchy, but the lush animation proves to be a wonderful distraction, and the comic relief Olaf is a genuinely funny, incredibly weird creation. While it's no masterpiece or even a game-changer, Frozen has all the makings of a Disney classic (arguably it already is). While parents may say they don't make 'em quite like they used to, I remember hearing the same thing back in 1994 when I saw Simba earn his crown.


Directed by: Chris Buck, Jennifer Lee
Voices; Kristen Bell, Idina Menzel, Jonathan Groff, Josh Gad, Santino Fontana, Alan Tudyk
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,055: 'The Lion King' (1994)

Disney's The Lion King capped a highly lucrative 5 years for the House of Mouse, who were, before The Little Mermaid came along in 1989 and turned their fortunes around, in real danger. It seems ridiculous to think that the studio that now routinely make billions of dollars a year with their Pixar, Marvel and Lucasfilm output, as well as their recent fondness for re-imagining their so-called 'Disney Animated Classics' series in live-action, could have ever been in danger of actually going under. Yet Mermaid made the millions, Beauty and the Beast (1991) won critical adoration, and Aladdin (1992) charmed, and the rest is history.

I remember seeing The Lion King in cinemas back in 1994 with my mum, and not being particularly over-awed. I didn't shed a tear when Mufasa was betrayed, nor was I singing the songs to myself in the car ride home. However, it felt like I was the only one, as the film's popularity seemed to increase each year, with home release re-masters, soundtracks and a theatre production jamming every one of my senses, even now, 22 years later. It was because of this, and partially because I'm an old-school (1930's-60's) Disney loyalist, that I shunned The Lion King for all these years. After finally viewing it again, I wish I had a time machine to slap the 10 year old version of myself, as this is about as close to animated perfection as you can get.

For anyone who has somehow never seen the film, The Lion King tells the story of King Mufasa (James Earl Jones), a respected and formidable beast who rules over the Pride Lands of Africa. The arrival of his new son and heir, Simba (Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Matthew Broderick), is cause for celebration across the plains, except, that is, for Mufasa's weak and envious brother Scar (Jeremy Irons) and his hyena friends (Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin and Jim Cummings). When Scar's plan to usurp Mustafa's throne ends in tragedy, Simba flees with guilt and shame, finding unlikely friends in the slow-witted warthog Pumbaa (Ernie Sabella) and motor-mouthed meerkat Timon (Nathan Lane). As Scar's rule leaves Simba's former homeland a hyena-ridden wasteland, will the would-be king fulfil his destiny and take back his crown?

From the enchanting, wordless opening scene in which Simba is shown off to the crowd to the tune of Circle of Life, to the savage, expressionistic climax which sees hero and villain have their final showdown, I felt completely immersed in this world, regardless of the fact that I knew the story back to front. This is Disney at its most thoughtful, magical and hilarious. Perhaps taking a page from Studio Ghibli's environmentally-aware book, the film shows a real respect for the natural world despite anthropomophising its characters and dabbling in pseudo-mysticism. Lane and Sabella shine as Timon and Pumbaa, two of Disney's most beloved comedic side-kicks, who also get to belt out one of their most beloved tunes in Hakuna Matata. I'll most likely never be convinced that Disney will manage to recreate the beauty and warmth of the likes of Dumbo (1940) and Bambi (1942) during their Golden Age, but The Lion King is the closest it's ever come.


Directed by: Roger Allers, Rob Minkoff
Voices: Matthew Broderick, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, James Earl Jones, Jeremy Irons, Ernie Sabella, Nathan Lane, Rowan Atkinson
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,025: 'Pocahontas' (1995)

Made during the era now known as the 'Disney Renaissance' between 1989 and 1999, Pocahontas is one of the least fondly remembered of a wave of films that also included the likes of The Little Mermaid (1989), Beauty and the Beast (1991) and The Lion King (1994), all of which are now considered giants of the Disney back-catalogue. It received mixed reviews upon its release, with some seeing a bravery in the films desire to tell a more serious story, and others lamenting its lack of memorable musical numbers and three dimensional supporting characters. And 'mixed' is precisely the way I felt when the credits started to roll.

In 1607, a ship named the Susan Constant arrives at the New World carrying settlers and fortune-seekers from England. Led by the dastardly Governor Ratcliffe (David Ogden Stiers) who means to strip the lands of all of its riches so he can return to England as a success, the ship also carries the dashing John Smith (Mel Gibson), the captain seen as a hero by his crew-mates after saving young deck-sweeper Thomas (Christian Bale) from drowning during a storm. Further inland, the beautiful and free-spirited Pocahontas (Irene Bedard, with Judy Kuhn providing the singing vocals) fears the prospect of marriage to stoic warrior Kocoum (James Apamunt Fall), arranged by her father and tribe chief Powhatan (Russell Means). As tensions between the settlers and the natives grow, Smith and Pocahontas form a romantic bond that will shake the foundations of both camps.

Pocahontas deserves to be applauded for its refusal to gloss over the racial aspects of a story aimed primarily at children. Smith isn't simply the traditional square-jawed Disney prince, and early on boasts about the amount of 'savages' he has killed during his adventuring. There's clearly blood on his hands but, through his relationship with Pocahontas, learns of the value and importance of nature, as well as the peaceful ways of her tribe's culture. The song Savages has both sides portraying the other as, well, savages, demonstrating their natural fear and distrust of a culture they know little about. Yet there is a distinct lack of fun to the film, with only Pocahontas's animal side-kicks providing some much-needed light-hearted comic relief. Outside of the two leads, the supporting characters are wafer-thin, with Ratcliffe paying the moustache-twirling villain, and Powhatan the wise, mystical old man. It's also unlikely you'll be whistling the songs afterwards.


Directed by: Mike Gabriel, Eric Goldberg
Voices: Irene Bedard, Judy Kuhn, Mel Gibson, David Ogden Stiers, Russell Means, Christian Bale
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #982: 'The Jungle Book' (1967)

Listed as number 19 in the Walt Disney Animated Classics series, The Jungle Book is one of the House of Mouse's most beloved films. Loosely based on Rudyard Kipling's book of the same name, Disney demanded a sure-fire hit after the underwhelming response to The Sword in the Stone (1963) and removed any hints of the darkness of Kipling's text in favour of a more child-friendly experience. The last movie to be produced by Walt before his death in 1966, the result is one of the most effortlessly charming films he ever presided over. Featuring possibly the most memorable and catchy song in Disney's history (Bare Necessities), he at least he went out on a high note.

Mowgli (voiced by director Wolfgang Reitherman's son, Bruce) is a young orphan boy who, after being discovered in the deep jungle in a basket by Bagheera the Panther (Sebastian Cabot), is raised for the next 10 years in a wolf pack. After learning that the monstrous, man-eating tiger Shere Khan (a wonderful George Sanders) has returned to the jungle, the pack decide that Mowgli must be taken to the nearby 'man-village' to be with own people for his own safety. Bagheera volunteers to escort him to safety, but he soon becomes frustrated with Mowgli's insistence on staying in the jungle and leaves him the hands of Baloo (Phil Harris), a laid-back bear who promises Mowgli to never take him to the man-village.

With animation far below the standard set by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and a group of insufferable vultures modelled on the Beatles, The Jungle Book remains great despite its flaws by being so damn heart-warming. The final scene, as Mowgli gazes upon one of his own kind for the first time, is truly wonderful in its unsentimental simplicity. The music, by the Sherman Brothers and Terry Gilkyson, is one of Disney's best soundtracks, with Louis Prima's jazzy I Wanna Be Like You proving particularly toe-tapping. Cabot and Harris are fun as Mowgli's bickering escorts, but Sanders and Sterling Holloway - as the hypnotising Kaa the Snake - steal the show as the bad guys. One of Disney's very best.


Directed by: Wolfgang Reitherman
Voices: Phil Harris, Sebastian Cabot, Bruce Reitherman, George Sanders, Sterling Holloway, Louis Prima, J. Pat O'Malley
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #947: 'Just Imagine' (1930)

Here's a first for me - a pre-Hays Code science-fiction romantic musical comedy. Just Imagine, directed by David Butler, envisions a 1980 where everybody flies rather than use cars, are given numbers instead of names, eat food and drink alcohol in pill form, and have their life partners decided by a judge. Just Imagine is a true oddity, and should be seen by anybody interested in obscure curiosities or the evolution of sci-fi in cinema. Despite the wonderful Oscar-nominated set design, the film is also very, very bad, plagued by wooden acting, forgettable songs, and some plain old weirdness.

J-21 (John Garrick) is in love with LN-18 (Maureen O'Sullivan), but the fact that he has reached the peak in his field - aviation - is stopping him from achieving greater things. Due to the limits of his field. the judge deciding on LN-18's ideal partner is the favouring smug and loathsome aristocrat MT-3 (Kenneth Thomson) instead. After witnessing a successful experiment to bring back a man, who dubs himself Single O (vaudeville performer El Brendel), back to life after being frozen in 1930, J-21 is approached by a scientist who has perfected a 'rocket plane' capable of reaching Mars, and wants J-21 to be the pilot. Joined by Single-O and his best friend RT-42 (Frank Albertson), J-21 sets out on a mission into the unknown in the hope of becoming a hero and winning the hand of his true love.

Some early moments of Just Imagine are truly wonderful. Riding high above the city in their aircrafts, R-21 parks up next to LN-18 for a mid-air chat amidst the backdrop of skyscrapers. The special effects throughout are wonderfully charming and hold up well 75 years on. These brief delights are sadly few and far between, and the film spends the majority of its hefty 110 minute running-time churning out blandly-filmed song-and-dance routines, including a bizarre number about never killing a fly because it may be in love with another fly, Brendel's tiresome and unfunny shtick, and taking its sweet time to actually get into outer space. When we finally lands on Mars, we are in Ed Wood territory, with scantily-clad natives and plonky fight scenes. It flopped upon release due to the decreasing popularity of musicals at the time (pre-Busby Berkeley), but Just Imagine at the very least deserves to be seen once and never again.


Directed by: David Butler
Starring: John Garrick, Maureen O'Sullivan, El Brendel, Frank Albertson, Marjorie White
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie