Review #726: 'Inside Llewyn Davis' (2013)

Looking like a Bob Dylan record cover come to life, Inside Llewyn Davis, the Coen brothers' first film since 2010's True Grit, takes place on the wintry streets of 1961 Greenwich Village in New York. We follow it's lead character, Llewyn (Oscar Isaac), a talented but struggling folk singer crashing from couch to couch, trying desperately and comically to hold his life together and come through what was one of the most exciting times for folk singers - this was the year Bob Dylan broke out of the scene. The film, like Llewyn, wanders sporadically, seemingly without direction, but this is the Coen's finest work in years.

The Coen's have always been cruel - be it shooting Brad Pitt's loveable idiot in the face in Burn After Reading (2008) or needlessly killing Donnie in The Big Lebowski (1998) - and here they revel in beating down its protagonist. But they have a lot of sympathy for him also - when he's beaten up in the alleyway by a shadowy stranger, we know he deserves it, but feel sorry all the same. And it's the same attitude they have with the subject matter. Although they often poke fun at the free-spirited melancholia of it all, they have a lot of love for the music. Long-time collaborator T-Bone Burnett provides the tunes, and it's a great soundtrack. Most impressively, the cast perform live on set, and Oscar Isaac manages to belt out a beautiful opener in Dave van Ronk's Hang Me, Oh Hang Me (the film is loosely based on van Ronk's memoirs).

It's often difficult to work out what kind of film it is. It shifts between being a drama about an artist struggling to make an impact, a sombre look at what life was like as a folk musician in the early 60's, a Kafkaesque comedy with a tragic anti-hero at its heart, and a dark, somewhat mystical odyssey. Like the Coens' earlier film, A Serious Man (2009), it keeps the audience at arms length. But as brilliant as that film was, Inside Llewyn Davis is a more mature take, creating an altogether warmer film, offering throwaway, laugh-out-loud moments such as Llewyn's recording with fellow artists Jim (Justin Timberlake), a marketable, likeable sort of guy, and Al Cody (Adam Driver), whose performance during Please, Mr Kennedy steals the entire damn film.

As the film progresses, and Llewyn finds out Jim's girlfriend and performing partner Jean (Carey Mulligan) is pregnant, possibly with his child, and after he embarks on a doomed road trip with heroin-addled jazz musician Roland Turner (John Goodman) and chain-smoking Beat poet Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund), it becomes clear what the film is really about. The final scene will leave some people scratching their heads, but I believe it signifies the point in all our lives when we look at our own existence and contemplate the meaning of it, often coming to no conclusion. This is beautiful, thoughtful, sometimes uncomfortable film-making, with the Coen's at their most melancholic.


Directed by: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake, Ethan Phillips, Robin Bartlett, Max Casella, Adam Driver, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund
Country: USA/UK/France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #725: 'Zodiac' (2007)

You would be forgiven if you went into David Fincher's Zodiac expecting a routine serial killer flick, but, although it opens with two memorably brutal murders, it puts aside character and plot to simply document the case of the Zodiac killer in the late 1960's and into the early 70's. The problem is, he was never caught, so Zodiac draws you into the jigsaw puzzle that was the search for the killer, only to be frequently met with dead ends and red herrings. The three lead characters come and go throughout the film, but this is not about them, it's ultimately about the fear that gripped San Francisco when the Zodiac was on the prowl.

At the San Francisco Chronicle, a letter arrives from someone claiming to be the Zodiac killer, who has already shot a young couple in their car. The letter demands publication, and offers a puzzle involving strange symbols as a means of uncovering his identity. This draws in Chronicle cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal), who, despite his interest, is not taken seriously by the staff, who include crime reporter Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.). The Zodiac strikes again, attacking a couple in a park and shooting a taxi driver in the back of the head. Police detectives David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) and William Armstrong (Anthony Edwards) are brought in to investigate, and liaise with Avery and Graysmith, whose lives start to be consumed by the case.

Fincher is obviously comfortable in this setting, having already brought to life the eternally drizzly and grim world of Se7en (1995) and the miserable confines of modern corporate life in Fight Club (1999). Zodiac is a mixture of both, here filmed digitally, and here combines a grimy brown colour palette with Fincher's recognisable eye for the stylish. It takes pride in its detail, grinding out excitement within the most mundane of activities. In Zodiac, a close-up of handwriting or the discovery of a previously ignored newspaper clipping become just as tense as any action scene. After all, this is a film about the case, so such close observation is as vital as it is entertaining.

The acting is top class across the board, with Mark Ruffalo, a character actor who has gone underrated for far too long, standing out in the least showy role of the lead trio. Downey Jr. brings his natural charisma to the boozy, erratic Avery, and Gyllenhaal, given the most screen-time (his character wrote the book the film is based on) is a likeable underdog. The characters aren't given much time to breathe between the fast-talk conversations and the digging for clues, but its the Zodiac himself that looms largest over the film. He is barely seen outside of the opening half hour, but his presence is never far away in Fincher's nervous San Francisco. And there lies the film's genius. Impeccably directed, brilliantly written, and utterly terrifying.


Directed by: David Fincher
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., Anthony Edwards, John Carroll Lynch, Chloë Sevigny, Elias Koteas, Brian Cox
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #724: 'Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy' (2001)

Ron Jeremy is adored by thousands, possibly millions, of fans. All of them have inevitably at one point in their lives caught a glimpse of a fat man with a hairy back, ridiculous moustache and gigantic penis making noisy love to a big-breasted woman. His everyman looks and charismatic 'acting' style gave hope to even the most grotesque of horny males, standing out amongst an array of muscular, polished male porn stars. The sheer volume of his output (he claims to have made over 1,500 movies) all but guarantees that he's in at least one of those VHS tapes you find under your dad's bed as a teenager. But there's something quite tragic beneath all the frat house appearances and self-parodying movie cameos, and it's all the sadder that this documentary doesn't really dig deep enough.

Porn Star takes an episodic approach, each focusing on different aspects and episodes of Ron's life. We also get talking-head interviews from the likes of Jenna Jameson and the amusing Larry Flynt, all offering their own anecdotes and insights to the man nicknamed 'The Hedgehog'. It's all light-hearted and loosely structured, but the movie fails to really get a grasp of its subject, preferring to lovingly mock him or to allow others to tell his story. Ron never seems to stop working, attending anything he's invited to and keeping a giant book of contacts that looks like gibberish to anyone apart from him. And it's this somewhat naive drive to achieve mainstream respectability that makes him a tragic character, something the film could have explored in more depth. But ultimately, Porn Star is just a bit of a drag, never managing to capture the energy and tacky razzle-dazzle of the glory days of porn.


Directed by: Scott G. Jill
Starring: Ron Jeremy
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #723: 'Diary of a Madman' (1963)

The greatest of actors will always find themselves taking an unworthy role simply to pay the bills, but it is in their ability to carry these films on their own that truly establishes their greatness. Vincent Price, who starred in an endless array of crap (as well as the odd horror classic), had this ability. He was by no means the finest of actors, but his undeniable screen presence and often tongue-in-cheek approach has made him a gift to horror fans, and here he helps raise Diary of a Madman, one of his more obscure efforts, into the realms of the passable. Based on Guy de Maupassant's short story The Horla, Diary of a Madman is a very silly film indeed, but manages to retain a sort of camp charm.

Beginning with the funeral of magistrate Simon Cordier (Price), his pastor begins to read out his diary to various friends and old acquaintances. Flashing back, he visits the cell of a doomed inmate who has killed a number of people without a motive, and who informs Cordier that he has been possessed by an evil and invisible entity named the Horla. He attacks Cordier, but is killed in the struggle, and the spirit of the Horla moves into Cordier's body. From then on, Corider experiences strange murderous urges, and is tormented by frequent visits by the mysterious being. He rediscovers his love for sculpting, and meets vain and selfish model Odette (Nancy Kovack), who appears to fall in love with him.

The Horla itself is a ridiculous creation, flying in through Cordier's windows and announcing his presence in a voice reminiscent of the one you would put on when you have a bed sheet draped over your head. Better yet, the Horla's causes it's subjects eyes to glow green whenever they feel evil inside of them, here represented with some shoddy effects that looks like the director is simply flashing a light in the actor's eyes. But as previously stated, this raises some unintentional laughs and, with Price's presence, is quite charming. The Horla is a metaphor for the evil in every man, and the film at least manages to interpret de Maupassant's themes on a most basic level. I doubt it will ever get any home media release that will cause a cult rediscovery, but Madman is an enjoyable little oddity, and certainly a must-see for Price fans.


Directed by: Reginald Le Borg
Starring: Vincent Price, Nancy Kovack, Chris Warfield, Elaine Devry
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #722: 'Quatermass 2' (1957)

After the huge success of The Quatermass Xperiment (1955) - the film that launched Hammer Productions into the mainstream - Hammer and the BBC were quick to greenlight an adaptation of the sequel before the television serial of the same name even aired. Original creator Nigel Kneale was brought back in to pen the early draft, which was later revised by director Val Guest. Kneale's main problem with the first film was the brusque performance of American Brian Donlevy, and was disappointed that he would again reprise his role. But Kneale's criticism's aside, Quatermass 2 is a more action-packed and dramatic effort, although admittedly inferior to the first.

Professor Quatermass (Donlevy) is struggling to get his Moon Project off the ground. His plan is to set up a base on the moon and be the first to successfully colonise it. These plans are interrupted when Quatermass becomes intrigued with various meteorites that have been landing in the area. After travelling with his colleague Marsh (Bryan Forbes) to one of the meteor sites, Marsh is injured as one of the meteorites cracks open and leaves him with a 'V'-shaped burn on his face. Armed guards with similar facial scarring take Marsh to their nearby government facility, leaving Quatermass to contact his old friend Inspector Lomax (John Longden) for advice. This leads him to Vincent Broadhead (Tom Chatto), a member of parliament also investigating the strange goings-on at the site.

Although it was Nigel Kneale's main gripe with the movie adaptations of his creation, Donlevy's (possibly alcohol-fuelled) performance as Quatermass is one of the most intriguing aspects of the Quatermass series. He should be your typical Sherlock Holmes-esque British inquisitor, but Donlevy's interpretation is arrogant, selfish and abrupt, making him one of the more interesting 'heroes' of the genre. Here he is more action star too, dodging machine gun fire and making quick getaways in a film that is much more action-orientated than it's predecessor, although it retains much of it's realism. Due to this, it lacks the slow-build atmosphere of Xperiment, almost losing it completely with the overblown climax full of explosions and gun-fire. Even though it was overshadowed on its release by Hammer's The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), it is still a fun film, and even features of pre-Carry On Sidney James.


Directed by: Val Guest
Starring: Brian Donlevy, John Longden, Sidney James, Bryan Forbes, Vera Day
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #721: 'Gravity' (2013)

Movies in space are as common as they come, be it the shaky sets and questionable science of the 1940's and 50's, the camp and kitschy 60's and 70's, the alien-filled deep space of the 80's and 90's, or the explosive CGI of nowadays, audiences have always had a thirst for space opera and film-makers have always had a vision of the great darkness above the sky. But never has it seemed so real, so beautiful and so utterly terrifying as it is in Gravity, Alfono Cuaron's first movie since the excellent Children of Men (2006). It is a truly stellar vision, possibly the finest use of special effects ever. Yet oddly, I kinda hated Gravity, because for all it's promise and early vigour, it's just your average Hollywood popcorn-muncher wrapped in a pretty bow.

Deep into a space mission to service the Hubble Space Telescope, rookie engineer Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) focuses on her work while the wily veteran Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) hums pop tunes and makes cocky remarks. Suddenly, they are hit by high-speed debris from a Russian satellite and are flung into space. Their shuttle, Explorer, is destroyed and their entire crew dead, and their only hope is to float across the great nothing to a Chinese space station, where they hope to re-connect with Houston and find a way home. But with the debris quickly making it's way back around and the perils of nothingness in their way, Stone is faced with some quick and tough decisions.

It's a shame I didn't get to see this in the cinema, as, although I'm not a fan of the 3D revolution, the staggering visuals and wonderful cinematography would have no doubt complimented the medium. Space here is a terrifying beast, the first time cinema has really captured how vast it really is. When Stone is first flung away from the Hubble, she spins manically out of control, reaching out for objects that aren't there, screaming when there's no-one there to hear her. Of course, smooth operator Kowalski is on hand to fly out and rescue her, but in those few minutes of desperation, she is truly alone.

Yet away from the action, Gravity dabbles in terrible, ham-fisted dialogue, familiar disaster-movie set-pieces, and heavy-handed metaphorical imagery about birth, death and life. This is the kind of film that has lines like "you've got to learn to let go" and "clear skies with a chance of satellite debris." Normally I would brush this off as your typical pap but I wanted and expected so much more from Gravity. After the heart-pounding opening 20 minutes, the film begins to drag, and actually feels long for a movie of just 90 minutes. Bullock's character is meant to an underdog, sympathetic in her never-say-die attitude, but she comes off as inept and annoying, and I fail to see why the Academy found her performance worthy of an nomination. A massive disappointment, but certainly a beautiful one.


Directed by: Alfonso Cuarón
Starring: Sandra Bullock, George Clooney
Country: USA/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #720: 'Trance' (2013)

British film-maker Danny Boyle has always relied on his eye for the fresh and stylish to give his movies a real rush. Trance is no different, and what may appear on the surface to be yet another heist film full of sharp suits and crisp cinematography, it is anything but. The twists and turns may leave your brain spinning - it is comparable in many ways to that other recent head-scratcher, Inception (2010) - but it is how it plays with its various characters that makes the film so alluring. It starts out by breaking the fourth wall and has art-dealer Simon (James McAvoy) narrating his way through a rather bland Goya theft, but the film then beings to play with these early conceptions and ultimately makes it hard to get out of head.

Thug Franck (Vincent Cassel) and his crew successfully steal a rare Goya painting up for auction from under the watchful nose of auctioneer Simon, who, after being hit on the head by a shotgun, is unable to remember anything from the robbery. It turns out that Simon was in on it all along but has double-crossed Franck and hidden the painting for himself, only now he can't remember where he put it. Enter hypnotherapist Elizabeth (Rosario Dawson), who uses the trance like state that Simon so easily falls into to try and unlock the secrets he seems to be subconsciously unwilling to reveal. Elizabeth must go deeper into Simon's subconscious, but as the revelations keep coming, Simon finds is difficult to distinguish between what is real and what is not.

It sounds like a bit of a silly set-up, and admittedly the film does require the audience's patience, as it soon becomes clear that the painting may just be a McGuffin, and there's bigger and darker secrets simmering under the surface that the film takes delight in slowly unravelling. Such a thing may be significantly damaging to a film's credibility, but Boyle's visual flair keeps the action suitably exciting to distract from the negatives, and he has once again teamed up with Underworld co-founder Rick Smith to deliver a pulsating soundtrack. It is unfortunate, however, that the film feels the need to descend into gratuitous violence during the climax, darkening the film's tone far too drastically.

A lot of the film's success is down to the performance of James McAvoy, who rounds up a successful 2013 with a second impressive performance (along with Filth). It's a role that requires a character shift so sudden that his work here can only be admired. Dawson is also suitably spunky, finally given a role that suits her acting style. And a lot of the film hinges on the likeability of the actors, because as the revelations come - and they are thick and fast in the last 30 minutes - personalities change and backgrounds are revealed, and the audience needs to be fully invested in these characters to want to see out the rest of the film with them. As the credits roll and you sit rather confused (and possibly a bit pissed off), you may be somewhat dismayed by the experience, but once it sinks in, Trance becomes an intriguing experience.


Directed by: Danny Boyle
Starring: James McAvoy, Rosario Dawson, Vincent Cassel
Country: UK/France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #719: 'Ballad of the Little Soldier' (1984)

German film-maker Werner Herzog is well-known for his obsession with, well, obsession, finding joy and producing some great documentaries over the years championing the quirkiness of the human spirit. With Ballad of the Little Soldier, the focus is not on the idiosyncratic but on the child soldiers serving in Nicaragua fighting for the native Miskito Indians against the oppressive Sandinistas. Although he may deny it, this is Herzog's most political film to date. With co-director Denis Reichle, who served the Nazi's in the Volkssturm, Herzog's interviews various Miskito inhabitants who have fallen victim of the brutal Sandinistan regime.

At only 45 minutes long, Herzog and Reichle manage to paint a large picture of what life was like for the Miskito's. A woman wails about her family, butchered at the hands of the Socialist Sandinistas, whose government initiative to move the Miskito's into civilised society has led to their villages being sacked and torched, and the mass murder of men, women and children. The persistent nature of Herzog and Reichle's interview techniques do often make things uncomfortable, but it certainly makes for devastating viewing.

Narratively, the film is all over the place. The cinema verite style contradicts the film's title, shifting focus away from the children far too often in favour of the adult soldiers, who march past the camera with similar resigned, weathered expressions. But this is still powerful stuff, with Herzog's narration lending the film a dream-like quality amidst the seriousness of the subject matter, and Reichle's recollection of his time in the Volksstrum as a child making for difficult viewing, especially told in the context of the events that were unfolding in Nicaragua. Although this is far from Herzog's best documentary, he manages to achieve more in 45 minutes than most documentarians could only dream of.


Directed by: Werner Herzog, Denis Reichle
Starring: Werner Herzog, Denis Reichle
Country: West Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #718: 'Oldboy' (2013)

The recent splurge of Hollywood remakes of successful Asian exports have damaged the credibility of the remake, or the 're-visioning', as some of the more self-respecting directors dub them. It's east to forget that filtering a famous story through another artist's vision can produce great results, and without remakes we wouldn't have the likes of The Maltese Falcon (1941), A Fistful of Dollars (1964) and The Fly (1986). When Hollywood got it's grubby hands on the rights to a remake of Chan-wook Park's idiosyncratic modern classic Oldboy (2003), fans were up in arms. How would this story of octopus-munching and incest translate to an American audience? Then, Spike Lee was on board to direct, and people were as intrigued as they were confused.

Josh Brolin is Joe Doucett, a scumbag salesman who repeatedly drinks on the job and makes inappropriate passes at his clients girlfriend's. After another night of heavy-drinking and missing his daughter's birthday, he meets a woman with a yellow umbrella. The next morning, he wakes up to find himself in what looks like a hotel room, but is actually a prison in which he'll spend the next twenty years. Given Chinese food and vodka to consume every day, and seeing the news of his wife's murder and his daughter's adoption on the news, Joe eventually attempts suicide. He is saved, with the aid of his captors, and starts a vigorous routine in which he prepares for revenge. Then one day, he wakes up in the middle of a field with a cell phone and a lot of questions.

I'll just establish that I was never on board with this remake, even with the intriguing notion that Spike Lee was to direct. Yet Lee was adamant that this is a re-imagining from the original manga text, so I gave it a go. The many homages aside (the octopus, angel wings, the extended hallway fight), 2013's Oldboy does manage to be a film in it's own right. We learn more about Joe before he is captured, and Josh Brolin gives a strong performance as a character that is certainly angrier than Min-sik Choi's Dae-su Oh. This is evident from a beating he gives a young group of jocks, elbowing and stamping, and Lee's film is certainly bloodier. There is also more development given to the young woman who takes pity on Joe, and is played with a fearlessness by the lovely Elizabeth Olsen.

But where Oldboy fails wholeheartedly is the juggling of tone. Beginning with a grainy, handheld 16mm, the sense of reality is thrown out the window come Joe's release. We are introduced to bad guys such as Chaney (Samuel L. Jackson), who dresses like he belongs in the world of Willy Wonka (is there anything this man will not wear?), and the main antagonist Adrian (Sharlto Copley), a big bad so cartoonish that he may as well be twirling a moustache. In Chan-wook Park's movie, the shifts in tone suited the director's style as well the whole general strangeness that comes out of the Asian movie industry, but here it is handled so clunkily that it often comes off a simply laughable. Anyone unfamiliar with the original must find the whole experience simply perplexing.

Ultimately, this isn't a bad effort. I have to applaud it for at least trying to be it's own movie, rather than a carbon copy of a film that was always going to be it's superior. The tweaks and small additions have added little to the story and, if anything, made it more easily accessible. What worked so well for Park's original was it's refusal to abide by the normal storytelling rules, whereas Lee often tries to spoon-feed this strange tale and force it into a conventional and familiar Hollywood narrative. Like the film's protagonist, you can't simply put a story like this into a cage and expect people to enjoy looking at it, you've got to prod it with a stick, let it loose and scare the shit out of everyone. But thankfully, Spike Lee seems to have finally realised that they're called films, not joints.


Directed by: Spike Lee
Starring: Josh Brolin, Elizabeth Olsen, Sharlto Copley, Samuel L. Jackson, Michael Imperioli
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #717: 'Se7en' (1995)

After his calamitous experience working on his début film Alien 3 (1992), David Fincher took on a small genre picture that, little did he know, would revitalise his career and become one of the greatest films of the 1990's. Se7en appears to begin as your typical detective neo-noir, with the cynical veteran and the naive rookie taking on an elusive serial killer seemed hell-bent on turning the sin against the sinner. But, set in an unnamed and permanently drizzly American city, Se7en is a meditation on evil and a pessimist's depiction on the modern world, climaxing in one of the bravest and most memorable endings in Hollywood history.

Detective Somerset (Morgan Freeman) is on the verge of retirement, where he plans to leave his inner-city life behind him after years of fighting on the side of good. His replacement is the brash Detective Mills (Brad Pitt), an optimistic young recruit eager to learn, who Somerset takes under his wing. Their first homicide investigation involves an obese man who has been fed at gunpoint to the point of causing his stomach to rupture. With Somerset ready to leave the force, Mills takes on his first solo case in the murder of a rich attorney, a man forced to cut a pound of flesh from his own body. The murder scene has the words 'greed' written in blood. Somerset eventually finds the word 'gluttony' etched in grease in the apartment of the first victim, and he becomes convinced the murders are connected, and that the killer is murdering under the guidance of the seven deadly sins.

The genius of Se7en is rooted in the way the movie keeps the audience as clueless as the detectives. Normally in genre pictures such as this, we either know who the killer is and eagerly wait for the investigators to put the pieces together, or we have a line-up of suspects and red herrings to decide from. Here, apart from brief glimpses during a thrilling chase scene, we are devoid of clues. The killer is always one step ahead of Somerset and Mills, alluding to the idea that the mysterious 'John Doe' is indeed having his work guided by a higher power. Of course, he is not, he is merely a man, but this helps gives Se7en dramatic weight, rather than it becoming a nihilistic exercise in cruelty.

When, three-quarters of the movie in, the killer hands himself in, the movie becomes a masterclass in writing, slowly building into one of the greatest climaxes in film. Somerset, a decent man who has devoted his life to the side of good but has had the fight slowly drained out of him, meets his nemesis in John Doe (Kevin Spacey). But as they talk, Doe's reasoning becomes clear and, shockingly, almost sympathetic. "Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore, you have to hit them with a sledgehammer," he says. It's about a world gone to shit, a view shared by Mills' wife Tracy (Gwyneth Paltrow), who talks to Somerset in a diner about allowing a baby to be born into the world after discovering she is pregnant. Cerebral and gothic, Se7en transcends the genre on so many levels thanks to some bleak yet stylish direction by Fincher, and it still manages to astound after almost 20 years of repeat viewings.


Directed by: David Fincher
Starring: Morgan Freeman, Brad Pitt, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kevin Spacey, R. Lee Ermey
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie