With Sleeping Dogs, director Roger Donaldson near enough single-handedly cemented New Zealand's place on the cinematic map. It was, at the time, the biggest box-office hit the country had seen, and also boasted what is only the second big-screen appearance by Sam Neill. With Ozplotation in full swing just across the water, Sleeping Dogs kicked off a New Wave in New Zealand, with the likes of Donaldson's Smash Palace and Vincent Ward's Vigil following in the subsequent years. The film is odd and off-kilter, but never less than fascinating. Donaldson clearly looked at Adolf Hitler's own rise to power in post-World War I Germany for inspiration, as he depicts a New Zealand of the near future falling foul of a rising dictatorship who are eager to hunt down anybody they believe could belong to a growing band of freedom fighters. It all starts with television reports of fuel strikes across the country, and quickly spirals out of control from there.
The report is being watched by Smith (Neill) as his children write him goodbye letters and his wife sobs in the kitchen. He is the victim of infidelity, so decides to pack up and live off the grid for a while, but not before his wife's new lover Bullen (Ian Mune) arrives before he has even left the house. He spots an island on the Coromandel peninsula, arranging with the Maori owners to live out there untroubled, even exchanging his expensive car for their rusty old boat. He fishes, listens to the radio, and befriends the locals nearby, but his idyllic existence is soon interrupted when the government goes into full crackdown mode, arresting anybody on suspicion of assisting the revolution. He is taken in by the police to be interrogated and tortured, and likely sentenced to death. Seeing no other alternative, Smith takes his chance and escapes his captors, fleeing to a quiet camping ground where he meets a nice local girl. Smith is no guerilla revolutionary and is quite happy to live in ignorant bliss, but when US Army Colonel Willoughby (Warren Oates) arrives with more on his mind than policing the country, it becomes clear that Smith's destiny lies with the uprising, whether he likes it or not.
Donaldson deliberately holds back certain pieces of information to keep the goings-on away from Smith a mystery, making Sleeping Dogs a rather frustrating experience. But frustrating isn't always bad, and here the loose, drifting storyline gives the film a unique style and atmosphere. You're never quite sure where the story will go next, and when Warren Oates arrives with a smile and willingness to party, there's a disorientating sense of unease as the beads of sweat drip off his quivering moustache. Cinematographer Michael Seresin, who would go on to work on the likes of Midnight Express, Angel Heart and the third Harry Potter, captures the country beautifully, imbuing the scenery with a sense of beauty and peace one minute, and a sense of terror the next. It all sounds a bit George Orwell, but it really isn't. It's actually much stranger than that, and has a rich vein of humour throughout, usually stemming from Smith's frustration as he unwillingly grows into a revolutionary leader. In many ways, it mirrors Gary Bond's experience trapped in the small, violent town of Ted Kotcheff's masterpiece Wake in Fright, only with less booze, more humour, and some bizarre turns along the way.
Ridley Scott's ambitious but ultimately flawed Prometheus attempted to somewhat distance itself from the Alien franchise, or at least the silly money-spinner it had become. While very much set within the Alien universe, Prometheus made a crack at some big themes, particularly man's obsession with meeting its maker, but ended up leaving us with far more questions than answers, with Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and the decapitated synthetic David (Michael Fassbender) leaving to find the Engineer's planet to find the answers to the very questions we are left with. After the success of the brilliant The Martian, Scott seems eager to get back into the familiar stalk-and-eat/impregnate routine of his genre re-defining Alien. Indeed, Alien: Covenant is a direct sequel to prequel Prometheus, but Scott seems more interested in straight-up horror than further exploring the deeper themes of its predecessor.
It's 11 years since the Prometheus expedition, and the spaceship Covenant is drifting through space on its way to a distant planet that its crew and passengers hope to colonise. Two thousand colonists lie in stasis, and only the crew are awoken when a stellar neutrino burst almost destroys the ship. As repairs go underway, they pick up a faint radio transmission from an uncharted planet, which sounds suspiciously like John Denver. Following the death of the ship's captain (played by James Franco, who appears for roughly 30 seconds), the newly-promoted Oram (Billy Crudup), against the wishes of second-in-command Daniels (Katherine Waterston), makes the decision to follow the signal in the hope of finding another habitable planet. When they touch down, they find an alien ship, a sea of extraterrestrial corpses, and the planet's seemingly lone inhabitant, the long-haired synthetic David. Soon enough, a couple of crew members become infected by alien spores, and the rest you already know.
1979's Alien, which still has the power to terrify, has little in way of plot or alien action. Its power comes from the simplicity in which its story unfolds, and the fantastic ensemble of actors bringing to life the human interaction between those brief moments of sheer menace. They talked about shitty working conditions and bad pay, and felt like actual people rather than just the clothes they wore. There was something fascinating about watching these blue-collar types, hundreds of years into the future, and seeing that we haven't changed one bit. In Alien: Covenant, characters are defined by the things they say about themselves or their accessories. One of the first things Oram reveals is that he is a man of faith, as if the audience is too stupid to work out for themselves that the story essentially represents humanity's search for God. Chief pilot Tennessee (Danny McBride) is a cowboy because he wears a cowboy hat and, well, his name is Tennessee. Daniels rocks a white vest and a tough, slightly sad demeanour, so we instantly think of Ripley without any actual character development required.
The film spends most of its time having the characters explain the plot to each other. At one point, a character proclaims that so little of what is happening makes sense, and I refuse to believe I'm the only one to spot the glaring irony in this statement. Characters are introduced and killed off before we had the chance to care about them, while most of the audience will still be trying to figure out how all this 'black goo' fits into the overarching story. Thank the Engineers then, for the presence of Michael Fassbender. He was the best thing in Prometheus, and it's no different here. Doubling as both the American-accented synthetic upgrade Walter and his unhinged, English-accented predecessor David, his scenes are the film's eeriest. Scenery is chewed, certainly, and there is a ridiculous, homo-erotically charged moment I won't spoil, but it's only during these moments that Covenant doesn't feel like a re-tread of every other Alien movie there's been, only done worse. Covenant's main problem is that it is trying to explain and expand on a mythos that doesn't require it. In Alien, the alien arrived without explanation and that was part of its appeal. It was a slimy, unpredictable unknown, and perhaps we now know too much.
It's incredibly sad to read about how many milestones Wonder Woman touches on, especially in this day and age where a high-profile Twitter user must consider every message they post to the world in fear of being racist, sexist, homophobic, or just plain insensitive. Despite the influx of superhero movies since Marvel kicked off their Cinematic Universe in 2008 with Iron Man, and despite the abundance of long-standing and hugely popular female superheroes existing in the comics, and despite audiences calling out for a female-led superhero film ever since Scarlett Johansson donned the leathers as Black Widow in Iron Man 2, studios have failed to deliver one in 12 years. Perhaps the studios were scared they would have another Elektra on their hands, but that movie failed because it was terrible, and was a spin-off from the also-terrible Daredevil.
The DC Extended Universe, in the face of the critical mauling they received last year with the double-whammy of Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad, can only be applauded for taking the much-overdue 'risk' of launching a female-led franchise with Wonder Woman, a movie that not only represents so much in terms of moving cinema out of a stone-age mentality and into the modern world, but surpasses all expectations in a time of superhero overkill. Wonder Woman is, above all, charming, funny and exciting, and will hopefully help steer the DCEU back on track after an incredibly wobbly start. Making her introduction in Batman v Superman and emerging as one of the few positive things to be said about Zack Snyder's overblown and poorly-constructed smack-down, Wonder Woman begins in the present day but flashes back to the time glimpsed in the black-and-white photograph sent to her by Ben Affleck's Batman, when World War I was in full flow and her heart was won by a spy named Steve.
The young Diana grows up on the island of Themyscira, a beautiful hidden paradise created by Zeus to be a home for the Amazons, a tribe of fierce female warriors tasked with protecting the world from the Greek God's evil, warmongering brother Ares. Diana's mother, Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen), attempts to shield her from the horrors of war and forbids her to practice combat, while her auntie Anitope (Robin Wright) realises her potential and trains her in secret. Zeus left the islanders a gift, a weapon called the 'Godkiller', which will prove decisive when the battle with Ares finally stirs. Cue the arrival of Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), an Allied spy who stumbles on the island while fleeing the Germans. He brings death and war with him, and the Amazons want to kill him before Diana intervenes, revealing he saved her life. The tribe want nothing to do with a war waged by man, but Diana suspects Ares may be puppet-master behind the conflict that has taken millions of lives. Against her mother's wishes, she travels with Steve to London, where he reveals to his superiors German plans to release a devastating new mustard gas created by General Ludendroff (Danny Huston) and Spanish chemist Dr. Maru (Elena Anaya).
The word 'man' carries a special significance, and director Patty Jenkins carefully weaves this idea into the film without rubbing it in your face. As well as the violent, dangerous 'world of men' lurking across the waters, there is also No Man's Land, the stretch of mud and rubble separating the two warring fronts. This is a place that no man can hope to survive, and this sets up the triumphant moment seen in the trailers in which Diana deflects machine-gun fire with her bracelets and shield before taking out anybody daft enough to stand in her way. This scene is made all the more powerful by Gal Gadot, who puts in a terrific performance despite her lack of acting experience and puts all the doubters to rest, proving to be just as savvy with comedy as the action. The fact that we care so much about her also means that the CGI-heavy climax, which seems to be trend with DC, can almost be forgiven. Thanks to well-written character development and some charming chemistry between Gadot and the ever-brilliant Chris Pine, there is a real emotional investment that was lacking in DC's previous misfires. In terms of origin stories, this doesn't rewrite the rule-book, but the importance and significance of Wonder Woman should not be underestimated.
Matt Reeves' War for the Planet of the Apes, the reboot of the classic series that also work as prequels of sorts, isn't the first ape-led movie this summer to draw inspiration from Francis Ford Coppola's Vietnam classic Apocalypse Now. While Kong: Skull Island attempted to re-create some of the visuals from Coppola's masterpiece, especially the helicopters whizzing past the sunset moment that adorned the posters, it shared little of its psychological tone and gravitas. In War for the Planet of the Apes, the only obvious references are the words 'Ape-pocalypse Now' scrawled by humans in a dingy sewer, and Woody Harrelson's bald, painted and psychotic antagonist The Colonel. Yet War also shares much of its weary, exhausted tone, and the psychological effects of battle are a key theme running throughout, as is the desire for revenge driven by an unquenchable hatred.
For anyone hoping to enjoy an action-packed blockbuster full of explosions and thrills will likely be disappointed, or at least take aback by how serious Reeves and co-writer Matt Bomback approach the subject matter. After the blistering finale of the previous film, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, which offered the delightful sight of an ape riding a horse wielding two machine-guns, it would seem more fitting to switch the two titles around, and there is little war in this trilogy-closer, but there is certainly a dawn of something big. Beginning 2 years later, Caesar (Andy Serkis), who can now speak as eloquently as any human, is still haunted by his former ally Koba (Toby Kebbell), whose feelings of pure hatred towards his human abusers could not be quelled by Caesar's teachings of tolerance. Leading a huge tribe hiding out in the woods, they are attacked by the military but manage to defeat the small band of soldiers. After this pulse-racing opener, Reeves takes his foot off the pedal to focus on Caesar's inward struggle and personal journey.
Caesar's hand in forced when some of his immediate family are murdered by a renegade militant group headed by the genocidal Colonel, who isn't given a name, or much personality until his motivation is eventually explained. Although he sets out on his quest for revenge across the snowy mountains alone, he is soon joined by his loyal companions Maurice (Karin Konoval), Luca (Michael Adamthwaite) and Rocket (Terry Notary, who also did the motion-capture for Kong), who continue to trust the judgement of the leader they have followed from the very beginning. They soon pick up a couple of new faces, the mute young human Nova (Amiah Miller), and former zoo resident and chimpanzee Bad Ape (Steve Zahn). The latter offers the series a levity so badly lacking in the previous instalments, and Zahn wonderfully captures the character's adorable mixture of naivety and weariness, as well as delivering the film's few funny moments. It soon transpires that the clan Caesar had left behind and believed to be on their way to safety have been rounded up by the Colonel and locked away in a concentration camp of sorts, so it becomes a race against time to prevent the extermination of his species.
Dawn represented the very pinnacle of special effects, with the CGI rendered characters interacting seamlessly with their human counterparts, as well as the drizzly forest surrounding them. War somehow eclipses this, taking such care with its special effects that you can truly see the humanity in Caesar's eyes. Even the Colonel acknowledges this by marvelling at how almost human Caesar appears, yet this does not sway his disdain. But this shouldn't take anything away from Serkis' performance. As well as nailing the physicality of the primate's movements, he also delivers a performance of remarkable intensity, yet also one of warmth. Caesar's pacifist attitude has constantly been met with aggression, and his tolerance has taken a battering over the course of Rise and Dawn. He is an ape at the end of his tether, willing to risk certain death to see one man burn, but he also recognises the good side of humanity in the form of the harmless Nova, who has witnessed the barbarity of her species first hand. It's incredibly heavy stuff for a big-budget picture, but although some of the symbolism may be clumsily-handled in parts, this is refreshingly mature stuff. It left me with both the sensation of satisfaction after a fitting closure to the story, and the desire to see the franchise push on even further.
Before Hunt for the Wilderpeople was even released, director Taika Waititi had been headhunted by Marvel Studios to helm what will be one of their biggest releases in 2017, Thor: Ragnarok. The talented writer, director and actor duly obliged, and will no doubt bring his unique brand of charm and laugh-out-loud humour to what has been tantalisingly described as an intergalactic road movie. His relocation to Hollywood helps bring a sense of bittersweet gravitas to Wilderpeople, almost as if he is waving goodbye to his beautiful New Zealand, smashing the opening weekend box-office in his native country in the process.
The film tells the story of Ricky Baker (Julian Dennison), an overweight orphan who dresses like the gangster rappers he frequently quotes who is placed in the care of foster parent 'Aunt' Bella (Rima Te Wiata). Bella lives in a remote cottage and welcomes the troubled child with open arms, switched on to exactly how to deal with Ricky's unique brand of rebellion. The same cannot be said for her husband Hec (Sam Neill), a grizzled frontiersman who we first meet emerging from the hills with a huge boar on his back. Hec has no time for Ricky, but when tragedy strikes, the child heads out into the wilderness to survive on his own. It doesn't take long for Hec to catch up to him, but when the huntsman is injured, the two are forced into spending a huge amount of time together, becoming wanted outlaws and local celebrities in the process.
Waititi's previous film, the cult vampire mockumentary What We Do in the Shadows, was complimented by its cast of talented comedic actors and surprisingly gory set-pieces. While Shadows was certainly a riot, it could be argued that it lacked heart. Wilderpeople certainly doesn't, and Waititi seems to have an uncanny ability to know just when to inject sentiment into a mix of memorable one-liners, bizarre supporting characters and pop culture references. A lot of this is down to the two central performances. Dennison proves to be one held of a find and the ever-reliable Neill is perfect as the grumpy foil who slowly and convincingly forms a bond with the child. Many of the laughs come from Ricky's childish naivety - when he sees the military and their sniffer dogs hunting them through the trees, he exclaims, "Ninjas! Direwolves! Child Services!"
There is also a fine performance from Rachel House as head of child services Paula, a grotesque woman who seems to have stepped out of the pages of a Roald Dahl book. Her motto is "no child left behind," but doesn't seem to grasp the meaning of the words as she takes her job far too seriously and leading the manhunt herself. While the film seems to slightly lose focus towards the Thelma and Louise-inspired climax, it never loses its heart. Adapted from Barry Crump's book Wild Pork and Watercress, Waititi's is clearly in love with the film's characters, as well as the beauty of the New Zealand wilderness. It's a near perfect combination of comedy and drama, knowing exactly the right time to switch gears. If Waititi can bring the same levels of charm and offbeat humour to his Thor movie next year, it will be one of the most intriguing movies of the year and a standout in Marvel's already-impressive track record.
The filmmaker's obsession with the Old West never seem to cease, whether it be the rough-and-tumble tales of black vs. white of the 50's, the sweat-drenched stand-off's of the European low-budget efforts of the 60's and 70's, or the revisionist approaches that enjoyed a re-emergence in the mid-2000's, the harsh plains of America's darkest period seem to fascinate every new generation, all of which have a different take on a period that has taken on a mythic quality. Following a couple of successful shorts working with Michael Fassbender, Man on a Motorcycle (2009) and Pitch Black Heist (2011), director John Maclean from The Beta Band makes his feature-length debut with Slow West, a suitably slow-burning and simple tale of lost love, set to the backdrop of violence and a country in unrest.
Scot Jay Cavendish (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is an opportunistic young dreamer who arrives in America in the hope of claiming his lost love. We first meet him at night aiming his gun at the stars, pondering the possibilities of this new land. He then witnesses the execution of Native American's for sport by a gruff Union leader, who is then killed by a skilled bounty hunter named Silas Selleck (Fassbender). Silas agrees to take Jay under his wing, and as their story develops, we soon learn that they are hunting for the same thing for very different reasons. Through flashbacks, we learn that back in Scotland, Jay fell in love with a beautiful girl below his social class, Rose (Caren Pistorius), who could only return platonic love. Along with her father (Rory McCann), Rose fled her homeland after a bounty is placed on their head.
Slow West depicts an America that is simultaneously familiar yet unfamiliar. It is the dusty west of the revisionist westerns of recent years where violence comes as second-nature to its inhabitants, and the mountains and woods are filmed with the same sense of wonder and impending danger that has become synonymous with the genre. Yet, the landscape is also alive with colour and natural beauty, as if the flowers were blooming with as much fruitless optimism as Jay's quest to rescue his love, which is frequently placed in peril by the likes of Swedish bandits or the ever-looming Payne (Ben Mendelsohn), a fellow bounty-hunter in a ludicrous fur coat who clearly shares a history with Silas. The decision to film in New Zealand adds to the sense of displacement, as if Jay imagined the world he read about in stories only to discover that it's only half-true.
Although the film is as slow-moving as the title may suggest, the relatively short running time means that scenes are brisk and the narrative is never boring. It often feels surreal, like Jodorowsky on a mild day, producing some moments of oddball comedy juxtaposed with the spattering of bloodshed. It's also ludicrous at times - though not always in a bad way - and Maclean frequently explores the themes of man at their most primitive done many times before. But the climax is the work of a director with promise, as the bullets fly and walls become smeared in blood, it's a shoot-out that manages to retain control of the drama happening in between, as well as delivering a truly exciting set-piece. Fassbender says little but has the presence of an old soul, and Smit-McPhee, similar to his role in John Hillcoat's The Road (2009), is effective as the sad-eyed child caught up in a world he doesn't fully understand. Perpetually odd and surprising, Slow West is the melancholic work of a director to keep an eye on.
To anyone who believes that both the mockumentary and vampire genres have been done to death and have nothing else to offer need look no further than What We Do in the Shadows, the blood-sucking comedy from Kiwi duo Jemaine Clement (Flight of the Concords) and Taika Waititi (Eagle Vs. Shark (2007)). While lampooning the recent Twlight-inspired vampire craze has been done already with the dreadful Vampires Suck (2010), What We Do... manages to be both hilarious and endlessly creative with its take on the genre, managing to deliver some genuine (and surprising) scares along the way.
Uber-tidy vampire Viago (Waititi) resides in his decaying mansion with his fellow fang-bearers, Vladislav (Clement), a torture-and-seduction type who was dubbed Vlad the Poker in his heyday, the slobbish Deacon (Jonathan Brugh) who is deluded about his own physical attractiveness, and Nosferatu-lookalike Petyr (Ben Fransham), an 8000-year old who doesn't take too kindly at being awoken from his coffin. They bicker about washing the dishes, go to clubs but can't get in without the bouncers extending them an invitation, and occasionally exchange insults with the local pack of werewolves, led by the polite Anton (Rhys Darby), who reminds his fellow wolves that they're "werewolves, not swearwolves!" Their routine life is shaken by the freshly-turned Nick (Cori Gonzalez-Macuer) and his human friend Stu (Stu Rutherford).
Some scenes border on genius - the set-piece involving a terrified and still-human Nick being led to believe he's eating maggots ("I stole that from The Lost Boys,") and chased around the dark and endless mansion by the teleporting and shape-shifting trio achieves more excitement and frights than any full-blooded horror can hope to muster. It mocks and homages the genre, answering questions such as what would vampires search for on the internet? Virgins and sun-rises, obviously. As the blabbermouth Nick inadvertently sets a vampire hunter on their trails and the loveable Stu shows the housemates the delights of modern technology, the film becomes a sweet portrayal of friendship and learning to embrace, or in this case, tolerate diversity. The funniest film I've seen in a long time.
In Tolkien's book, the line goes "and so began a battle than none had expected; and it was called the Battle of the Five Armies, and it was very terrible." The slim-line novel is very much anti-war, which makes Peter Jackson's decision to turn a short chapter into a 160-minute battle sequence all the more perplexing. The comparisons you can make to 2003's The Return of the King are almost endless, but The Battle of the Five Armies fails to achieve the same level of excitement as the multiple Oscar winner as it forgets about its characters. This is essentially Bilbo's story, but once again he is lost amongst the indistinguishable dwarves, CGI fighting and frequent detours linking this franchise to Lord of the Rings.
It starts off where The Desolation of Smaug left us, with the super-pissed dragon Smaug (voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch) about to lay waste to Lake Town. Inside the Lonely Mountain, dwarf Thorin (Richard Armitage) obsesses over his newly-found treasure, but becomes increasingly paranoid at the disappearance of the Arkenstone, which was taken by hobbit Bilbo (Martin Freeman) during his face-off with Smuag. Meanwhile, wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) is helping rid Dol Guldur of Sauron, an evil force who is increasing his power. Elves Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) ally themselves with human Bard the Bowman (Luke Evans), while Legolas's father Thranduil (Lee Pace) arrives with an army of his own, seeking to claim an elven necklace from the Lonely Mountain.
The main problem with The Hobbit trilogy as a whole is Jackson's failure to spend enough time with any of it's huge cast. Bilbo is all but left out of his own story yet again, and the extra attention paid to Thorin's struggle with his own blind greed comes across as a hypocritical parable to Jackson's own decision to stretch out a thin book into three blockbusting movies. So while the film is undeniably entertaining, it is little more than a collection of clashing swords, sweeping CGI and badly timed comedy, loosely strung together by scenes of awkward dialogue, unconvincing romantic swooning, and Christopher Lee beating up baddies with a staff like Chuck Norris on steroids.
It's a shame that The Hobbit trilogy has been so underwhelming, and quite surprising too. Given that Lord of the Rings was so successful in bringing Tolkien's mythology to life, with action scenes that seemed so innovative and such a strong grasp on its characters, you would expect more of the same. It feels like Jackson simply expected the audience to warm to Bilbo, Thorin et al because they are part of the same world, so didn't put his heart into it. The humour is off too, with a horrendously CGI'd Billy Connolly turning up as a head-butting dwarf, delivering cringe-worthy lines you would expect from a pantomime starring Christopher Biggins. A few exciting moments save it from disaster, but after almost 9 hours of this story, I'm just glad the whole thing is over.
When we finally get to meet the magnificent dragon Smaug, voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch, at the climax of Peter Jackson's second instalment of his The Hobbit trilogy, we find him curled up beneath an enormous stash of gold coins and jewels, blissfully in the land of nod. After sitting through over two hours of this slog of a film, it's precisely where I wished I was. The Desolation of Smaug is yet further evidence that 9 hours worth of movies is not needed for Tolkien's delightful - and slim - novel. It feels like - to quote Ian Holm's Bilbo Baggins from The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) - thin, like butter scraped over too much bread.
The story picks up as the dwarves evade capture from the orc general Azog (Manu Bennett) and seek refuge in the home of Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt), a skin-changer who often takes the form of a giant bear. Setting of again towards Erebor to reclaim the dwarves homeland, Bilbo (Martin Freeman), Thorin (Richard Armitage), Gandalf (Ian McKellen) et al reach the Elven forest of Mirkwood. Gandalf departs to further investigate the strange goings-on at Dol Gondur, where the mysterious necromancer (Benedict Cumberbatch) seems to be building an army of sorts. In Mirkwood, the dwarves meet the Elvenking Thranduil (Lee Pace) and his son Legolas (Orlando Bloom), who imprison the dwarves following an altercation.
The Desolation of Smaug is simply a collection of things that happen - not much has a relevant impact on the story, nor does it develop any of the characters or make much of the film particularly interesting to watch. It's a near-3 hour film that barely has any time for its characters, preferring instead to repeatedly throw them into situations that apparently call for an extended, CGI-laden action sequence. It felt very much like a Middle Earth Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (2002) - vacant and almost soulless. The Lord of the Rings trilogy used CGI when it had to, and chose instead to welcome the natural beauty of the New Zealand landscape. And thanks to some gorgeous set design for the interiors, it felt like you could reach out and touch Middle Earth. Here, everything feels digital.
There's also too much padding. When the dwarves arrive in Lake Town, smuggled in by the revolutionary-type Bard (Luke Evans), it develops a strange love-triangle between dwarf Kili (Aidan Turner), elf-warrior Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) and Legolas. This can be argued as character development for one of the much underdeveloped dwarves, but its portrayed so blandly that it's nothing more of a distraction to Bilbo and Thorin finally encountering Smaug. Bard himself is also relatively one-dimensional, not much more than a rugged face that has been spawned by destiny - a reluctant hero that has chosen a different path to the one that seems lined up for him. Sound familiar?
It's not all bad of course, so although Peter Jackson has been caught up in the special-effects machine, he still shows his talent for the spectacle with one action scene that sees the dwarves escape Mirkwood and a micro army of rampant orcs in barrels down a river. It is a silly, overblown set-piece, but it proves funny and thrilling, a genuinely exciting highlight within one of the film's most drawn-out chapters. Also, Smaug himself doesn't disappoint. Although he's entirely CGI, the giant beast is entirely real and, thanks to Benedict Cumberbatch, uncomfortably menacing. His exchanges with Bilbo are the movie's best moments, as they both try and outsmart each other with words and tricks. Which makes it all the more disappointing when the film movies into yet another overwrought action scene.
I'm sure the obvious lack of heart and storytelling quality won't worry the producers (the film is already the 49th highest-grossing film of all time), nor will it Peter Jackson. This adaptation is now so far removed from the book's original vision that I don't think the sounds of Tolkien shouting "Fool of a Took!" in his grave will be giving Jackson sleepless nights. I remember in 2003, when The Return of the King (2003) was reaching its first climax at three hours, my bum was glued to the seat and my palms were sweaty, hit with the tragic realisation that this film trilogy would soon be over and all I had to look forward to was the Extended Edition DVD. At the 2 hour mark of The Desolation of Smaug, my bum was numb, I was shifting in my seat, and I was wondering what food I had in the fridge for later. Says it all really.
The 'West Memphis 3' were first brought to my attention back in 2007/2008 when I viewed the astonishingly eye-opening documentary Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills (1996), which I watched back-to-back with its sequel Revelations: Paradise Lost 2 (2000). The case was so fascinating due to its unbelievable revelations of the flaws in the American justice system that I was more than happy to spend over 5 enthralling hours of my night watching it unravel. Those films brought mass attention to the case, due to the fact that the three accused - Damien Wayne Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelley - were so blatantly innocent of this terrible crime. I assumed justice would prevail, and it soon left my mind. So it was shocking to learn upon the release of the third instalment of the trilogy, Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory (2011), and this, West of Memphis, that these three were still in prison, 19 years after the murders, with everything from mere bureaucracy and political motivations standing in their, and thousands of others, way.
For those unacquainted with the case, back in 1993, the mutilated bodies of three young boys - Christopher Byers, Steven Branch and Michael Moore - were found in a stream in the Robin Hood Hills, West Memphis. With no evidence, prosecutors quickly deemed the murders a result of Satanic ritual, due to (apparently) sexual mutiliation, and sought out any locals known to practise such an art. They were given the names of three youngsters, Echols, Baldwin and Miskelley, who were known to listen to heavy metal music and act much like your typical isolated, 'gothic' teenagers. Through manipulation of the jury, and a trial by media, the three were quickly convicted (again, with no evidence against them, apart from a heavily dubious 'confession' by the borderline mentally retarded Misskelley). They were given life, with Echols possibly facing the death sentence. Interest in the case quickly gathered, due to many aspects not making any sense, and gathered support of musicians such as Metallica, Henry Rollins, Patti Smith, and Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam. West of Memphis focuses on the fight to free the West Memphis 3, with new evidence gathered and possibly a revelation as to who the killer may actually be.
West of Memphis doesn't spend much time treading the same ground as the Paradise Lost trilogy, and quickly covers the original trial. It consists mainly of original footage, such as the lawyers and investigators funded by supporters of the West Memphis 3 and various celebrities such as the film's producers Peter Jackson and Fran Walsh trying to find fresh evidence in favour of the 3, and footage of the various concerts designed to raise awareness and make money. But where West of Memphis truly invigorates is the alarming case built against Terry Hobbs, stepfather of Steven Branch, who was all but ignored by police in the original investigation. Paradise Lost 2 brought up the possibility of another stepfather, John Mark Byers, being the culprit, but often felt like he was a suspect due to him simply being quite strange, which seems hypocritical considering the West Memphis 3 were convicted for the same reason. But there is strong evidence against Hobbs, such as a violent past, the lack of an alibi during the time of the deaths, and his hair being found within the knot of the shoelaces to which the three boys were hog-tied with.
Above all, West of Memphis is a staunch reminder of the darkness of this case. This was a horrific crime, almost beyond belief (and the sights of the three corpses really hammers this home), and an equally disturbing path of 'justice' that followed. This is a deep, dark stain on the American justice system, where political aspirations, ignorance and outright lying stand in the way of true justice. They do walk free in the end, but not without leaving a bitter taste in the mouth. They had 19 years of their life stolen from them, yet to be free they must plead guilty to a crime everyone knows they did commit. In the eyes of the law, the West Memphis 3 are child murderers, while the real murderer walks free with a clean name. The Paradise Lost films and West of Memphis, if anything, are a testament to the power of film, along with Errol Morris' The Thin Blue Line (1988), which exposed police ineptitude and helped set an innocent man free, but above all else, they are a terrifying and utterly depressing indictment of a country that needs to take a good look at itself.
After his bad taste début, er, Bad Taste (1987), the young Peter Jackson made the decision to take his filth-laden sense of humour to a new level and direct Meet the Feebles, the kind of film you would expect Jim Henson to make if his life had gone in an entirely different direction and had formed a psychedelic drug habit. He still had little budget to work with, as well as the (understandable) concerns from his funders, but this was the first time he would work with his future wife Fran Walsh, who would work with him on every film after this. Maybe it is her influence that makes Feebles a noticeable step up from his début, or maybe it's not, but the film works thanks to a director seemingly more comfortable in his role, but still renegade enough to inject his guerilla sensibilities into it.
The basic 'plot' revolves around The Feebles variety show, of which the main attraction is singer Heidi the Hippo (voiced by Mark Hadlow, Dori in The Hobbit (2012)), a former big star who has formed an uncontrollable attraction to cakes. Amongst the various characters is newcomer Robert, a softly-spoken and naive hedgehog who goes to great lengths to attract a seductive poodle he has fallen for. It is mainly through his eyes that we witness the mayhem of the show, which is ran by Bletch the Walrus (Peter Vere-Jones). Bletch is involved with Heidi, but is secretly having sex with a slutty feline, and is always making money on the side through Trevor the Rat's (Brian Sergent) pornography films. The show comes under threat when sex-addicted Harry the Rabbit contracts an STD and is given a few hours to live, but is busted by the Fly, a pesky journalist.
What Meet the Feebles lacks for in taste and any sense of actual purpose, it makes up for in sheer invention and entertainment. It moves along furiously, never stopping to consider something as unnecessary as plot, drifting from one scene of complete debauchery to the next. If you would be offended by the sight of animal ejaculating through his elongated snout onto the the pierced udders of a dominatrix cow, then I would recommending passing on this one. The humour is almost akin to that of South Park, but doesn't get bogged down with satire or observational gags, and instead seems to seek to disgust. It is juvenile, certainly, but it's undeniably funny, and is simply too twisted and disturbing to go about unnoticed. It is the anti-Muppets, representing depravity where Henson's creations were driven by naive optimism (although the puppets here are quite wonderfully designed).
After the proceeding Braindead (1992), which employed a lawnmower as the answer to a house overrun by horny zombies, Jackson seemed to grow up and film the astonishingly dream-like Heavenly Creatures (1994). It is simply mind-boggling how the director of this, a film that has a contortionist get his head stuck up his own arse, would go on to be the biggest director in Hollywood and create one of the finest achievements of modern mainstream film-making, The Lord of the Rings (2001-2003). Although he never won any Oscars for them, there is plenty to enjoy in early Jackson. You could even say that some of the hideous creations in Feebles were a pretext to some of the monsters seen in Rings and The Hobbit. Although I don't remember seeing Gollum eating shit out of a toilet with a spoon.
Before Peter Jackson almost exclusively worked with a CGI backdrop in the land of Middle-Earth, he began his film making career in the realms of low budget comedy-horror. Utilising the 1980's trend for splatter cinema, and no doubt the influence of Sam Raimi's tongue-in-cheek zombie film, The Evil Dead (1982), Jackson's debut feature film was entrenched in a very American tradition, but beholds the humour of his native New Zealand - which incidentally is part of the British commonwealth, meaning much of the uniqueness of British comedy is transposed onto the antipodean nation, the influence of Monty Python being one particular aspect of the film that made it such a surprise success. Bad Taste was clearly a labour of love, with Jackson bringing friends and family in to contribute to the making. The nature of the films production adds something quite special to both the narrative and the humour. The home-made special effects and props (Jackson used his parents oven to bake the handmade armoury used in the film) work both as farce and as actually quite an achievement of authenticity.
Set in a small, isolated town, a group of misfits, "The Boys," ordered from a shadowy government department, have been sent to investigate an invasion, where aliens have wiped out the inhabitants. What transpires is an alien fast food corporation have discovered that human flesh is the galaxy's newest taste sensation, and are accumulating cardboard boxes of flesh to market and sell to planets. At the centre of the government group is geeky scientist, Derek (Played by Jackson himself - he is also in the role of the alien Robert), who "can only relate to birds". He salivates at the sight of dismemberment and artillery. As the group discover the truth about the alien invasion, their mission is to stop them from leaving the planet. On a narrative level, Bad Taste is as simple as they come. But underneath this simplicity is a wealth of brilliantly formed characters, with their own idiosyncrasies, and a range of beautifully crafted one liners and references.
There are some stand out moments created with gruesome, cheep, but effective effects. The aliens seem to be mostly influenced by the zombie cinema of George A. Romero, with their slow moving mannerisms, and like Romero and Savini, Jackson delights in slicing them up with sharp tools and exploding them with guns. One alien has the top half of his head chopped off, a scene that displays Jackson's talent for editing, as he seamlessly cuts from the actors legs stumbling, to the rubbery half-head spurting copious amounts of blood and gore. Derek provides some of the most grotesque, Grand Guignol elements after he falls from a cliff, leaving a skull flat that exposes his brain matter. After this event, he constantly battles to keep the brain inside his head, strapping it closed with a belt. These scenes merge those ideas the comedy of the absurd, with the horrific splatter of giallo or the ridiculously over-the-top gore films of Herschell Gordon Lewis.
Considering the limitations of the incredibly low budget (according to imdb, the films budget was estimated at 30,000 NZD), the film looks good. Of course the film stock, the acting and the special effects aren't up to some of the more expensive American productions of its type, but with an insanely funny script, and the excessive nature of the violence, it is a film that should be loved. I do remember first seeing this film on video around 1989/1990, no doubt initially attracted by the latex alien on the video cover flipping the bird. It was soon the talk of the playground, as school friends would delight in the gore. But more specifically, I, along with my peers, were fundamentally reacting to the outlandish and on-the-money comedy, which holds up today as much as the first two Monty Python films. Gross-out comedy on this scale, has not been so much fun as this since. It's a shame Jackson hides away in Middle-Earth so much these days, it's about time he was funny again.
Ada (Holly Hunter) arrives at a rainy New Zealand coast to meet her new husband - the gently-spoken frontiersman Stewart (Sam Neill) - along with her precious grand piano and her illegitimate daughter Flora (Anna Paquin). Ada has been a mute since she was 6 years old, and as she explains in her narration, no-one knows why. Stewart's friend Baines (Harvey Keitel) takes an interest in the piano and offers Stewart land in exchange for it, as well as lessons from Ada, to which Stewart agrees. Offering the chance to earn her piano back, Baines wants one visit per black key on the piano from Ada, who he is seemingly infatuated with.
Australian director Jane Campion's erotically-charged gothic love story was a huge success back in 1993, winning the Best Actress Academy Award for Holly Hunter and Best Supporting Actress for Paquin, who became the second youngest recipient ever. Hunter's shadowy Ada is the backbone of The Piano, and while it may appear that it is her piano that fuels her passion, it is very much her own mind and experiences that dictate her actions. She is quite a fascinating character - not merely the put-upon mute who longs for love and her piano - she is actually rather subtly manipulative and sexually powerful, weighing up the two love interests in her life, and playing a dangerous power game with her increasingly jealous husband.
The contrast between the two men in Ada's life couldn't be any obvious - Stewart playing dutiful, business-minded and quite inept in courtship, while Baines is hulking, living out in the forest, his face spotted with native Maori tattoos - but it is quite clear as to where Campion's preferences life. Ada's scenes with Baines, in which he listens to her play, become the centrepiece for some highly erotic moments, playing out more like animal foreplay than anything human. Ada seems not to bat an eyelid when Baines lies on the floor by her feet, fingering a hole in her stocking, or simply walks around the room completely naked. While these unconventional actions are there to channel Ada's sexual repression/release and Baines' animalistic nature, these scenes often appear forced, filled with lazy or nonsensical metaphors passed of as spiritual film-making.
As with many Australian period films, The Piano looks stunning. The exotic location is not filmed through a sun-tinted lens, and nor does it capture any of the colourful wildlife (something you would expect if Terence Malick had directed it), but is grey, wet and muddy. Like Peter Weir's Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) and Gallipoli (1981), it has that lived-in feel, with Hunter's beautiful, ghostly face evoking a 19th-century photograph, where everyone looks grim and pale, and Campion's occasionally snapshot approach captures the mundane, everyday actions of the period. The performances are a revelation, with Hunter and Paquin deserving their accolades, and Keitel proving a formidable presence (I'll not mention the accent). The Piano is personal film-making, but too often the film seems to be striving for that mystical atmosphere rather than actually capturing it, occasionally getting lost amongst Campion's obvious adoration for her protagonist.
Back in 2001, when critics and audiences alike were raving about a new film called The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, I was reluctantly dragged to the cinema to spend three hours watching hobbits and wizards battling orcs and trolls, with lengthy moments of, well, not much, in between. I was relatively disappointed given the excitement surrounding the film, and was left perplexed at how well-received it was. As the months went on, and the DVD release approaching, the film somehow got better in my head, and I felt myself getting impatient to see it again. It finally came out, and I watched it every day for a week. I fell in love with the film, and it ultimately became my Star Wars - a film I could recite from memory, and one that will always be beloved to me. So almost ten years since the release of The Return of the King (2003), and after a change of director, numerous legal wranglings and a perforated ulcer, we finally have Peter Jackson's release of The Hobbit.
For a children's book of only approximately 300 pages, J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit is hardly on the scale of The Lord of the Rings, so it was surprising when the announcement was made that it would in fact take place over two films. Great news, I thought, as this would give Jackson time to flesh out the story and give the vast number of characters (namely the thirteen dwarves who are often indistinguishable in the book) some much-needed depth. When filming wrapped in summer of this year, even Tolkien die-hard's we're shocked when a third instalment was announced, and that Jackson would not only film The Hobbit, but also integrate some aspects of Tolkien's many appendices to tell a richer tale and expand the universe. So with An Unexpected Journey came an unexpected trilogy (thanks for that line, Marc), and for those accusing Jackson of simply seeing dollar signs, I ask you if you truly believe the man who wore an old jacket and Hush Puppies to the Academy Awards, and who directed low-budget delights such as Bad Taste (1987) and Braindead (1992), really seems the type to care only for his wallet?
For those unacquainted with the plot, The Hobbit tells the story of a young Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman), a hobbit who lives peacefully in his home in Bag End until eccentric wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) comes knocking. Soon enough, Bilbo finds his home overrun by 13 dwarves, who, on the advice of Gandalf, wish to employ Bilbo as a burglar in their plan to take back their hoard of gold from Erebor, a mountain that was once the pride of Thror, the dwarf king. Years before, the mountain was attacked by the dragon Smaug and the dwarfs were scattered, ending years of prosperity. Thror's grandson, Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage), a legendary warrior, doubts Bilbo's purpose, but lets the reluctant hobbit come anyway. On the road they are destined to meet many perils, as rumours of a greater evil gathering power is brought to Gandalf's attention by the reclusive wizard Radagast (Sylvester McCoy).
For those wanting more of the same magic that came back in 2001, you'll be in for a treat. For those wanting a great film in it's own right will be left sorely disappointed. The near-perfect structure and pacing of Fellowship in mirrored here almost exactly, with a lengthy introduction set in the Shire, a stop-off at Elf kingdom Rivendell, a huge cave battle in the Misty Mountains, and a final battle against a hoard of rampant orcs. And while this approach evokes fond memories of those years between 2001 and 2003, it also slightly undermines The Hobbit as a great story in its own right. Therefore, certain incidents that occur throughout the film feel thrown in to create some kind of bond between it and Lord of the Rings. Gandalf says to Bilbo, "every great story deserves a little embellishment," and this is a clear wink from Peter Jackson to the fans that his intention is to simply expand and elaborate on Tolkien's universe, rather than meddle with it.
Personally, I'm all for Jackson's idea to widen the universe, as long as the results are good enough. The addition of the wizard Radagast is a nice diversion from the central plot, and his encounter with the mysterious Necromancer (played by Benedict Cumberbatch, who will also voice Smaug in the later films) adds a darkness to a relatively light story to rival Sauron's menace in Lord of the Rings. But without an established 'bad guy' (as Smaug is only briefly glimpsed here), Jackson has thrown in the giant goblin Azog (Manu Bennett) to provide an enemy for Thorin, who witnessed his father's beheading at the hands of Azog in the defence of Moria. He provides a suitably despicable villain, but fails to show any real dimension when compared to the likes of Saruman (Christopher Lee) from the original trilogy.
As well as Lee, Cate Blanchett, Ian Holm and Elijah Wood also reprise their roles (given they weren't in the book) as Galadriel, Old Bilbo, and Frodo respectively, and although their appearances are relatively pointless, they add a familiar face and help add to the feeling of continuity. If there's one thing the film nails, it is the celebrated Riddles in the Dark chapter, where Bilbo meets Gollum (Andy Serkis) and unwittingly discovers the One Ring. It's a truly brilliant scene, one of the major standouts in the entire saga, as Serkis delivers another truly exceptional motion-capture performance. His split-personality was magnificently documented in The Two Towers (2002), but here we witness a truly pathetic creature, reduced to pure desperation upon realisation his beloved ring has disappeared. As an invisible Bilbo watches him, Gollum's eyes are filled with a mixture of blind panic and sheer grief. It's another triumph for the special effects wizards at WETA.
It's difficult not to keep comparing this to the previous trilogy as this is very much its own story, but Jackson's insistence in linking the films makes it impossible. An Unexpected Journey doesn't come close to the satisfaction of The Fellowship of the Ring, yet it's still explosive, enthralling and honed with the same amount of love and dedication. Martin Freeman proves a warm lead, although he isn't given the screen time he and his character deserve. Armitage is also a success, but his character channels the same reluctant angst as Viggo Mortensen's Aragorn and is (at this point in the story) merely a warrior to cheer in comparison to the gentler Bilbo. Yet the sequels will determine the trilogy's legacy, and I hope The Desolation of Smaug and There and Back Again (due 2013 and 2014) will expand on An Unexpected Journey's satisfying opener.
The report is being watched by Smith (Neill) as his children write him goodbye letters and his wife sobs in the kitchen. He is the victim of infidelity, so decides to pack up and live off the grid for a while, but not before his wife's new lover Bullen (Ian Mune) arrives before he has even left the house. He spots an island on the Coromandel peninsula, arranging with the Maori owners to live out there untroubled, even exchanging his expensive car for their rusty old boat. He fishes, listens to the radio, and befriends the locals nearby, but his idyllic existence is soon interrupted when the government goes into full crackdown mode, arresting anybody on suspicion of assisting the revolution. He is taken in by the police to be interrogated and tortured, and likely sentenced to death. Seeing no other alternative, Smith takes his chance and escapes his captors, fleeing to a quiet camping ground where he meets a nice local girl. Smith is no guerilla revolutionary and is quite happy to live in ignorant bliss, but when US Army Colonel Willoughby (Warren Oates) arrives with more on his mind than policing the country, it becomes clear that Smith's destiny lies with the uprising, whether he likes it or not.
