Very few actors and director's have the skill to bring William Shakespeare's work to life. The transition from stage to screen can prove difficult, especially when wrestling with the Bard's complex word-play and trying to make a movie that feels like a movie and not simply a filmed stage performance. No-one has succeeded as well as Laurence Olivier, here trimming one of Shakespeare's most wickedly entertaining plays to it's bare necessities, and delivering a fascinating performance to boot. Despite his high esteem, I've always found Olivier's acting to be somewhat hammy. But his hunchbacked, sneering monster is the definitive Richard III, combining his character's heinous acts with a devilish smirk.
A lot has been written about Olivier the actor, but clearly not enough about Olivier the director. Though his Shakespeare adaptations can often feel stagy, he wasn't afraid of taking narrative risks. His magnificent Henry V (1944) began with actors preparing to perform the play in front of a theatre audience, before go into full-movie mode. Richard III begins with Olivier breaking the fourth wall and delivering his gleefully atrocious plans to camera, boasting of his strategy to usurp his brother King Edward IV (Cedric Hardwicke), but not before ridding himself of his other sibling George (John Gielgud). He seduces the widow of the man he slew during the War of the Roses, Lady Anne (Claire Bloom), and conspires with his cousin the Duke of Buckingham (the astonishing Ralph Richardson).
Shot in wonderful Technicolor and opting for minimalist set design, Richard III is a treat for the eyes. But the true delight is the cast - a smorgasbord of British thespian talent - who deliver Shakespeare's poetic prose as if they talk it in their sleep. This is a tale of greed, paranoia and blood, told with a jet-black sense of humour, and Richard is one of Shakespeare's greatest creations. Disgruntled at being born lame and deformed without being compensated for his sufferings - you just have to sit back and marvel as he tricks and murders his way to the throne, turning to regicide and infanticide with a smile on his face. Olivier is clearly having a ball, and this is truly his show. I never realised Shakespeare could be so much fun.
Very few expected 2011's reboot of a franchise - so clinically killed off by Tim Burton and his failure to grasp the idea of narrative sense - to be any good at all. Yet Rupert Wyatt's Rise of the Planet of the Apes was not only excellent as a thrilling action movie, but also carefully laid-out and thoughtful in it's scientific approach to the disease that ultimately led to apes conquering Earth and replacing humans as the planet's alpha species. Such a surprising success naturally leads to sequels, and when a director so acclaimed in his delivery of the first instalment fails to re-sign on, disaster is expected. But the apes have done it again, and not only does Dawn stay faithful to it's predecessor's code of story over cheap thrills, but it surpasses it in quality, gradually evolving into a serious study of war.
Ten years after the events of the first film, most of humanity has been wiped out by ALZ-113 virus. The escaped apes from the first movie, namely chimpanzee Caesar (Andy Serkis), bonobo Koba (Toby Kebbell, replacing Christopher Gordon), and orangutan Maurice (Karin Konoval), are living peacefully in the woods believing the human race to be extinct. They communicate using sign language, though a few of them have learnt some words, and exist peacefully as a multi-ethical community. Caesar has two sons by Cornelia (Judy Greer) - Blue Eyes (Nick Thurston) and a newborn - and is the alpha with the facially and emotionally scarred Koba as his second-in-command.
Unbeknownst to the apes, a small group of humans still dwell in the city, running out of the power supply that is keeping them alive. Led by Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) and Malcolm (Jason Clarke), the pack is living together in a huge building amongst the decaying city outside. A small expedition into the woods leads to trigger-happy member Carver (Oz's Kirk Acevedo) shooting an ape in the head in fear. Caesar and his extended army confront them, but Caesar's sympathetic view of humans leads to him allowing them to return to the city, demanding they leave in human speech. Malcolm is astonished at the ape's intelligence and charisma, and returns with his girlfriend (Keri Russell) and son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) to treat with him.
The cinematography and set design are astonishing, The movie doesn't just give us a plastic apocalyptic world full of CGI-laden establishing shots, but a world that feels real and lived-in. And interacting in this world are some of the greatest special effects in the history of cinema. WETA have outdone themselves here, not only managing to blend motion-capture in an exterior environment seamlessly, but also allowing the actors behind the effects to act. A lot has been written about Serkis's portrayal of Caesar, and it is the actor's best performance to date, but Kebbell too manages to bring emotion and devastation to Koba's face, bringing an astonishing complexity to what could have been a stock antagonist. When the two interact, it feels real. You tend not to gasp at the effects because it simply feels like there aren't any.
When the inevitable smack-down ensues, it's after some spellbinding drama. There's no cut-and-dry good and bad guys, just the inevitable roll towards blood-shed. There's blame on both sides in equal measure, and it comments heavily on both species' natural inclination to go to war. They live peacefully apart, but once they discover each other things start to fall apart out of desire, greed and most of all, fear. The action is utterly thrilling, and although it offers such treats as the sight of an ape firing two machine gun's whilst riding a horse, it's mainly because we are so engrossed in the character's stories. Serkis and Kebbell deserve Oscar recognition, but probably won't get it. Tim Burton's ghastly 2001 effort has been near-enough wiped from memory, and this new franchise will surely go from strength to strength.
Cold in July is a film all about mood. Continuing the recent trend of all things 80's, the film harks back to the splurge of American neo-noir popular in the late 80's and early 1990's, where, usually, a simple man is caught up in crime, corruption or a dangerous woman (or all three) and ends up way out of his depth. Usually set in America's Southern states, these films explored what it is to be a man. Based on author John R. Lansdale's novel, Cold in July delves into similar themes, but often gets so caught up in drenching the film in atmosphere that it loses track of it's own story. It starts out relatively simply as Michael C. Hall's protective father Richard wakes up in the middle of the night as an intruder breaks into his home. Shaky and nervous, Richard shoots the young man dead and is congratulated by detective Ray (co-writer Nick Damici), who reassures him that sometimes the good guy wins. At the intruder's funeral, Richard is approached by the father Russel (Sam Shepard), fresh out of prison, who makes a passive threat to Richard's wife and child. Russel begins a tirade of threats and intimidation, eventually being arrested and left for dead by the police on a train track. Puzzled at the cops' eagerness to be rid of Russel, Richard saves him and delves deeper into the case, and the two find out they have more in common than initially thought.
Darkly photographed and set to a synthesised score, Cold in July certainly looks and feels like the movies and era it's paying homage to. We glimpse chunky early mobile phones, Michael C. Hall sports an unflattering mullet-and-moustache combo, and 80's favourite Don Johnson - enjoying a career revival of late - shows up as private investigator Jim Bob to grant the film some much needed energy and humour. While director Jim Mickle, who made the excellent and surprisingly brutal Stake Land (2010), is clearly enjoying tipping his hat to the era, plot strands fizzle out to the point where they are forgotten entirely and the camera is consistently restless. He has the actors and the story to tell, so simply point the camera and let things naturally fall into place.
But when it's good, it's absolutely riveting. Shepard is a terrorising yet stoic presence, and Hall shows that there is more to him than David Fisher and Dexter, proving a solid leading man despite an uncomplimentary appearance. The film is drenched in sleaze, and it's Texas setting is a bleak and beautiful place for a simple man to find his inner animal. But the film ultimately feels like it's going nowhere fast. The genre hardly calls for it so character development is virtually non-existent, but the plot leads to vastly different places so fast you'll wonder how you got there. I was constantly caught up in what I was watching, but by the end credits I was left hanging for a satisfaction that would never come.
Throughout the 1980's and 90's, there seemed to be a Stephen King adaptation released every other week. Although his output is undeniably prolific, I've always found King's work, for the most part, formulaic and lacking originality, and many of the big screen adaptations fair far worse. There are exceptions, of course, namely genre classics Carrie (1976) and The Shining (1980). The great directors Brian De Palma and Stanley Kubrick managed to turn King's often plodding narrative into a gripping visual spectacle. Canadian auteur David Cronenberg does something similar with The Dead Zone, and although it lacks the greatness of the aforementioned masterpieces, it is a wonderfully made and solidly-acted film.
It follows Johnny Smith (Christopher Walken), a happy schoolteacher who is madly in love with girlfriend Sarah (Brooke Adams). After suffering a headache on a rollercoaster, he declines Sarah's invitation to stay the night and drives home. On his way, he has a car accident which leaves him in a coma. When he wakes up, he discovers he's lost 5 years of his life and Sarah is now married with a child. After touching a nurse's hand, he sees her daughter trapped in a burning house and warns her. It turns out the coma has left Johnny with the ability to see people's past, present and future, and also the power to change the future with foresight. News of his new gift spreads, and his abilities are called upon by local sheriff Bannerman (Tom Skerritt), who asks Johnny to assist in solving a series of murders.
That is only half of the plot. Characters seem to come and go and eventually the film switches focus to corrupt Senatorial candidate Greg Stillson (Martin Sheen). Cronenberg and screenwriter Jeffrey Boam do their best to streamline King's sprawling plot, but without a focused narrative, the film can sometimes be as sketchy as King's novel. But Walken is great, helping create a character to really care about, and the supporting actors just as good. Rather than offer lazy jump-shocks, Cronenberg is patient and careful to drum up an atmosphere which makes the supernatural themes feel oddly naturalistic. It's far from the Canadian's best, but The Dead Zone is finely made and greatly entertaining.
To audiences young and old who grew up watching it, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang surely holds a warm, nostalgic place in their hearts. At the age of 29, this was my first viewing. I somehow knew all of the songs, knew everything that happens in the plot, and was certainly familiar with the notoriously creepy Child Catcher (Robert Helpmann). For me, watching the film was like eating a huge slice of cake. The first few bites are delicious and barely touch the sides, mid-way through you start to waver but you just can't seem to stop, but by the end your stomach is turning and you wish you'd never eaten the damn thing.
The brain-child of James Bond creator Ian Fleming, the movie was only loosely adapted from his novel by children's author Roald Dahl and director Ken Hughes. Chocked full of sweets and machinery, most of the film will have children eating out of it's sugar-coated palm. When skipping school one day, two mop-headed children come across Truly Scrumptious (Sally Ann Howes), a pretty but strict lady who takes the children straight to their father to report their truancy. The father, eccentric inventor Caractacus Potts (Dick van Dyke), supports their free-spiritedness, much to the horror of Truly.
While observing Potts' warehouse of barmy inventions, Truly comes across a sweet that can play like a flute. They takes it to Truly's father, Lord Scrumptious (James Robertson Justice), a successful confectionery manufacturer, who eventually throws Potts out when the place is overrun by dogs responding to the flute sweet. Eventually he saves up enough money to buy an old banger loved by his children and manages to fix it up, dubbing it 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' due to the clunking noise it makes. While off on a picnic one day, Potts and Truly start to fall for each other, and Potts tells his children the story of an evil pirate baron (Gert Frobe) who wants to steal the car for himself.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is carried along by some gorgeous Technicolor cinematography by Christopher Challis and an energetic performance from van Dyke, who puts in a highly physical one-man show and remains effortlessly likeable throughout. At two and a half hours, the film far outstays it's welcome. The majority of the songs are wonderful, but the film is slowed by mushy scenes, drab love songs and unnecessary sub-plots. It struggles with settling on a tone and ends up becomes a bloated mash-up. The first half of the movie I enjoyed as much as I did with the great's of the genre, until Grandpa Potts (the magnificent Lionel Jeffries) is whisked off to Vulgaria and it all becomes increasingly sickly.
This simply-drawn, nightmarish and often hilarious film was Polish director Walerian Borowczyk's first full-length feature and the last he would do using animation. It tells the simple story of a voyeuristic, diminutive husband and his iron-fisted wife, as they spend what appears to be a holiday in a desolate land filled with pesky butterflies and strange beasts. It is ultimately Borowczyk's idea of the mundaneness and repetitiveness of marriage, played out in a playful yet sometimes unnerving way.
Mrs. Kabal is a terrifying creation - well-endowed and dominant, speaking in a bizarre fashion that sounds like a human voice filtered through a blender. Mr. Kabal is the sympathetic one - running around like a headless chicken and obeying his wife's every need, even at one point entering her body to rid it of some unwanted butterflies. Every now and then he runs off to spy with his binoculars, always finding a semi-naked beauty much to the annoyance of an ever-present old man, who waves his fist in anger.
Not much is going on here in terms of narrative, and this causes the film to feel longer than it should be. There's only so many visual gags you can pull of with the omnipresent butterflies, who routinely fly into things and get on Mrs. Kabal's nerves. But for the most part, this is very funny stuff, and although the animation is crude, there is a surrealist quality to it all. Borowczyk would go on to make many highly-acclaimed and controversial live-action features after this, so this is a gentle introduction into the mind of the Polish auteur, and a cynical portrayal of the sanctity of marriage.
"I want you to do exactly what you did last time!" bawls Captain Dickson (Ice Cube). No-one really expected 21 Jump Street (2012), a re-boot of a long-dead TV show, to be a hit. But it was, and a hit spells sequel in Hollywood. And so returning directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, fresh off the colossal success of The Lego Movie (2014), use 22 Jump Street as a canvas to riff-on the idea of sequels. Actually, to label it as a canvas is not doing it justice - Lord and Miller, two of the wackiest and most inventive directors of our time, stretch it out, beat it with a hammer, and make a strange yet loveable mess out of it.
Schmidt (Jonah Hill) and Jenko (Channing Tatum) do exactly what their captain says and head to college, going undercover to bust yet another drug ring. The film embraces repetition wholeheartedly, all the with a winning wink to camera, so we have a Vietnamese Jesus (as opposed to Korean), a suspicious teacher, explosive action-movie car chases, homoerotic bonding, an accidental drug intake, and plenty of scantily-clad ladies. It's a formula that has worked once already - the first film was a hoot and Tatum truly excelled - so the director's laugh at their own willingness to bend to demand and their audience's willingness to lap it up, but never in an offensive way. Lord and Miller make sure you're in on the joke.
It's a shame that the action scenes get in the way, offering plenty of gunshots and explosions but never really rise above the kind of thing we've been given before in the old action movies it's lampooning. Other aspects also don't quite work - Schmidt's relationship with the gorgeous Maya (Amber Stevens) just feels unrealistic, Queen Latifah's appearance as Dickson's wife spawns a few jokes that simply don't work, and the whole thing feels over-long. But when it sticks with it's heroes, the film is consistently laugh-out-loud funny, and Tatum again delivers a performance that will leave many scratching their heads in disbelief at the idea that this is indeed the same person as the pouting, dead-eyed twat from Step Up (2006).
The Hollywood sequel is a fearsome thing. Most notably in recent years, we have seen an endless supply of re-hashes and cash-in's based on it's predecessor's success, commonly to disastrous effect. Animation especially - or even more so, Dreamworks animation - have churned out drivel with no heart; their only intentions being to offer something to parents that will keep their children busy for 90 minutes and to fill their own wallets. Take a bow, then, How To Train Your Dragon 2, which not only capitalises on the first film's charm, off-beat humour and dazzling dragon battles, but deepens it's mythology and expands it's world, while at the same time offering a visual spectacle to delight the kids and pose some extremely grown-up questions to the adults in the audience.
Five years after the townsfolk of Berk were given a lesson in allegiance and acceptance by unlikely hero Hiccup (Jay Baruchel), the Viking village thrives with domesticated dragons. It's chieftain, Stoick (Gerard Butler), has named Hiccup his heir, but the one-legged adventurer is not ready for the responsibility and would much rather be exploring the surrounding areas on the back of his dragon, the Night Fury Toothless. His relationship with the feisty Astrid (America Ferrera) has developed into a romance, and his friends fight over the attention of Ruffnut (Kristen Wiig). While exploring one day, he comes across an island decorating in strange ice formations, and is attacked by dragon-catcher Eret (Game of Thrones' Kit Harington).
Eret tells them about the warlord Drago (Djimon Honsou), who is amassing a dragon army after learning how to bend the creatures to his will using violence and intimidation. Hiccup and Astrid escape and ride back to Berk to warn the others, and learn that Stoick knows Drago and that he is a madman not be reasoned with. Hiccup, however, feels different and rides off on Toothless to treat with Drago but instead comes upon another hidden island, where dragons live in harmony under the influence of a colossal Alpha dragon known as a bewilderbeast. Also living on the island is environmentalist Valka (Cate Blanchett), Hiccup's long-lost mother.
Cleverly written without heavy lessons on morality and impeccably voiced by a star cast, How To Train Your Dragon 2 stresses the importance of finding your own place in the world. The film could easily have been some kind of eco-crusade, but instead questions whether the human race reserves the right to bend it nature to our will, or if we are a mere significance who have a duty to preserve it, or even if nature is a tool which we can use to serve the greater good. This is startlingly darker than it's predecessor - humans and dragons die - and even questions whether war can be just. Drago is a psychopathic tyrant - can these men be bargained with, or should they simply be wiped out? Thrilling, emotional and extremely thoughtful, this beautiful-looking sequel is the possibly the biggest surprise of the year.
Akira Kurosawa's lambasting of Japan's post-war corporate culture, The Bad Sleep Well, is one of many collaborations with actors Toshiro Mifune and Takashi Shimura and one of several of his film's rooted in the work of William Shakespeare. It's been somewhat unfairly overshadowed by the brilliance of those other films, but given the near-perfection of those movies, many of which regularly make those awful, generic 'top 100 movies' lists created by various magazines and websites, it's hardly surprising. But The Bad Sleep Well is one of Kurosawa's most ingeniously paced, clinically filmed and potently pessimistic movies.
Beginning with one of the most exceptional opening sequences in cinema, a crowd of journalists gather at the wedding reception of Nishi (Mifune) and Yoshiko (Kyoko Kagawa) attended by a host of corporate high-flyers. Yoshiko is the daughter of Corporation Vice President Iwabuchi (Masyuki Mori), whose company is facing scrutiny over suspected bid rigging and corruption. The press have gathered to witness the awkward toasts given by the various sweaty workers, delivered on a podium reminiscent of a witness stand. As the speeches are given, the wedding cake is wheeled in and revealed to be in the form of the corporate office building, with a single red rose protruding from the window in which Assistant Chief Furaya committed suicide from years earlier.
As a couple of higher-ups are arrested, Nishi steps in to reveal his plan of revenge. He has donned the disguise of a eager hopeful looking to marry himself up the corporate ladder, but is actually Furaya's son and has uncovered the trail of greed and corruption that led to his forced suicide. And all roads lead to Iwabuchi. Loosely based on Hamlet, The Bad Sleep Well is less faithful to the source material than Kurosawa's other Shakespeare adaptations. Working for the first time with his own production company, Kurosawa instead took the chance to voice his disgust at Japan's post-war capitalist takeover, where underlings are expected to take their own lives to save their boss's skin and back-hand dealings are less suspected than expected.
The title suggest something noir-ish, a genre Kurosawa is not unfamiliar with. But this has only brief shades of noir, and the title only serves as a warning of the grim pessimism smeared on thick throughout. At over two hours, the film is perhaps too long, becoming muddled at the points in which it should be tight and thrilling. But this is certainly a display of the director's formidable talent. The aforementioned opening wedding section is an expert mixture of comedy, tense drama and mystery, and was almost certainly paid homage to in The Godfather (1972). Mifune too, delivers a powerhouse performance as Nishi, stepping out of the shadows to become the beast he seeks to destroy. The climax may be too overtly bleak for some, but for the most part this is beautifully filmed, riveting stuff.
A lot has been written about Olivier the actor, but clearly not enough about Olivier the director. Though his Shakespeare adaptations can often feel stagy, he wasn't afraid of taking narrative risks. His magnificent Henry V (1944) began with actors preparing to perform the play in front of a theatre audience, before go into full-movie mode. Richard III begins with Olivier breaking the fourth wall and delivering his gleefully atrocious plans to camera, boasting of his strategy to usurp his brother King Edward IV (Cedric Hardwicke), but not before ridding himself of his other sibling George (John Gielgud). He seduces the widow of the man he slew during the War of the Roses, Lady Anne (Claire Bloom), and conspires with his cousin the Duke of Buckingham (the astonishing Ralph Richardson).
