Review #851: 'Interstellar' (2014)

Christopher Nolan and his writing partner/brother Jonathan have made a career out of delivering cold, intelligent blockbusters that often work like a puzzle-box slowly unravelling in front of your face. For their next trick, the duo have tackled the great beyond, gazing in awe at the skies while ensuring the heavy layer of science makes sense. You may need a degree or a PhD to fully understand what is going on here, but the Nolan's respect their audience enough to allow their exposition-heavy story to unfold without spoon-feeding. Interstellar is their most ambitious, while not their best, project yet.

In the near-future, Earth is slowly succumbing to famine due to crop blight. History is being re-written in schools to drive home the importance of saving the planet, and ex-NASA pilot Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) is one of many given the responsibility of growing a successful crop. When a mysterious force sends binary messages to him through a bookcase in the bedroom of his daughter Murph (Mackenzie Foy), Cooper arrives at a secret NASA base, where Professor John Brand (Michael Caine) is planning to send a willing crew of astronauts through a wormhole in space to search for a new home for humanity. Their previous mission has uncovered three potential planets, but the astronauts have not been heard from since.

Cooper, leaving his devastated young daughter behind, and a small crew (consisting of Anne Hathaway, Wes Bentley, David Gyasi and a humorous robot) set off on the mission, while Brand stays on Earth to work out the formula that will solve the problem of transporting every man, woman and child on Earth millions of light years through space. One of the planets is so close to a black hole that it causes gravitational time dilation, meaning that every hour spent on its surface is seven years of time back home. After a disastrous mission, Coop finds that his children have aged 23 years (and becoming Jessica Chastain and Casey Affleck in the process), and Murph is now working for Professor Brand.

While this is a lot of plot to take in, and it really isn't the half of it, the Nolans' skill at storytelling and narrative mean that you feel that, no matter how insane the proceedings get, things are going to add up in the end. When the film often threatens to get muddled with heavy explanatory dialogue that doesn't really help and trying to help us understand the workings of black holes, gravity and space travel, Nolan ensures that he doesn't lose his focus. The big idea is that we are not meant to stay here. We are destined to leave, explore and discover. Nolan's passion for the subject is clear as day, and his sense of wonder is brought to life by cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema, who paints space as something wonderful, strange, and fucking terrifying.

Despite the film's often crazy ideas, it feels authentic. Nolan worked closely with theoretical physicist Kip Thorne on developing the film, so Interstellar is (ironically) grounded, and Nolan wisely doesn't try to replicate the philosophical approach of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). It's far from perfect - you could easily pick at plot-(black)holes, some explanatory scenes are heavy-handed and ridiculous, and the warm-up is far too long - but you have to admire the ambition, and be grateful that there's a film-maker out there who can repeatedly prove that the casual movie-goer isn't stupid. 2001's crown is comfortably safe, but Interstellar is a fascinating, engaging and one-of-a-kind experience. Even if you don't like it, I bet you'll be talking about it for days afterwards. Plus it has the most loveable astronaut's-best-friend robots since Silent Running (1972).


Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, David Gyasi, Michael Caine, Casey Affleck, Wes Bentley, John Lithgow, Topher Grace
Country: USA/UK/Canada

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #850: 'The Trials of Darryl Hunt' (2006)

In 1984, Winston-Salem, North Carolina, young white newspaper editor Deborah Sykes is brutally raped and murdered. A man with a history of violence and crime, claiming to be somebody else, phones the police to report that he has seen a young woman killed. A name given during the phone call leads the police to question young black male Darryl Hunt and his friend, and later take them in for further questioning. With a media shit-storm generated by the slaying of a white woman in a black neighbourhood in a Southern state, what transpired next was one of the most shockingly vindictive miscarriages of justice in recent American history.

Documentaries surrounding wrongful imprisonments and the many failings of the American judicial system are extremely common, but The Trials of Darryl Hunt is particularly infuriating due to the involvement of Hunt himself; a humble, intelligent man who maintains his innocence and dignity throughout his many trials without a hint of hatefulness towards his accusers. He spent 19 years in prison for his imagined crime, his release only being granted after the exhaustive efforts of his legal team and dedicated community following. Ten years into his term, DNA evidence is presented that clears Hunt, but the judge rules that this only proves he didn't do the deed, not that he wasn't present.

The film never tries to be anything other than informative, and directors Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg detail every movement in the case rather than getting over-stuffed with style. It's often an incredibly frustrating watch, made slightly more bearable by the sight of Hunt,older and heavier, being granted his freedom in the opening moments. It shows us a city divided by skin colour, where tension is still high in a country that believes it has moved on from its dark history, and where a black man can be proven guilty by an all-white jury for a crime he didn't do, the only evidence being broken testimony from a known liar, an ex-convict and a man who looks like he's stepped out of the Jim Crow South.


Directed by: Ricki Stern, Anne Sundberg
Starring: Darryl Hunt
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #849: 'The Atomic Submarine' (1959)

Following a series of attacks on cargo ships and, most notably, nuclear submarine's, the Pentagon send their best ship, The Tigershark, to investigate. On board is Lieutenant Commander 'Reef' Holloway (Arthur Franz) and noted scientist Sir Ian Hunt (Tom Conway), who after examining the previous incidents and eye-witness statements, soon form the belief that they are dealing with some kind of underwater alien craft. Holloway's attack-first-ask-questions-later approach puts him at loggerheads with young pacifist Dr. Neilson, Jr. (Brett Halsey), the son of a revered scientist. They soon discover their speedy enemy, and Holloway finds himself confronted by a one-eyed monster intent on world domination.

There is a lot to criticise about The Atomic Submarine, regardless of the obvious budget limitations and drive-in aspirations. Sci-fi movies from the 1950's and 60's manufacture most of their charm from bad special effects and clunky dialogue, but The Atomic Submarine looks particularly ropey, with miniature toys and a fish-bowl filling-in for apparently state-of-the-art aquatic engineering and the great blue yonder. The first two-thirds of the film is extremely talky, which would be fine if not for the characters being little more than B-movie archetypes, either puffing their chest with patriotic defiance or providing some light comic relief.

Yet the climax, which sees a lot of the crew massacred by the drooling extra-terrestrial (voiced by John Hilliard), proves worth the wait. It's certainly formulaic, but it's full of wobbly, retro sets and a genuinely creepy score by Alexander Laszlo, key aspects in what makes these films so fun to watch. The face-off between Holloway and the spaceman also contains some unintentionally hilarious dialogue. "At last Commander, we meet as your people say... face to face!" says the alien. "That's a face?" Holloway replies. The Atomic Submarine is immediately forgettable, best watched late at night when you feel like you're the only person left awake in the world, but this effortlessly likeable fluff.


Directed by: Spencer Gordon Bennet
Starring: Arthur Franz, Dick Foran, Brett Halsey, Tom Conway, Bob Steele
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #848: 'Nanking' (2007)

Without the focus on the heroic efforts of a small group of European and American expatriates, Nanking the film would be a near unbearable experience. The Nanking Massacre, or The Rape of Nanking as it's widely referred to, took place over a 6 week period in 1937. The Chinese capital city was invaded by Japanese troops, resulting in 200,000 (or more depending on varying estimates) innocent people raped and slaughtered. Tales of civilians being forced to have sex with corpses or family members, unborn foetus's being cut out of their mother's belly with bayonet's, or the gang-rape of small girls and boys are all confirmed here. But Nanking achieves its power not through shocking and repulsing but by showing the triumph of the human spirit in the face of hell on Earth.

Although plenty of archival footage is used - from the beautiful, pulsating Nanking sitting proudly as China's capital, to it's destruction through heavy bombing - a bulk of the film consists of readings by actors of diary entries written by the likes of Nazi party member John Rabe and American missionary Minnie Vautrin. Rabe and Vautrin were part of a small, wealthy group of men and women who decided against fleeing Naking, and set up a 'Safety Zone' inside the city. The actors, including the likes of Jurgen Prochnow, Mariel Hemingway, Woody Harrelson and Stephen Dorff, are earnest and understated in their delivery, and this helps give these moments an urgency, when it could have come off as trying to add some Hollywood gloss to a devastating event.

The Japanese agreed to the implementation of the safety zone, but their soldiers would parade the grounds, raping women at will and dragging men off to be executed on mass for being suspected enemy soldiers. Still, the protection offered by Rabe, Vautrin, Bob Wilson et al is estimated at being responsible for the survival of 200,000 Chinese lives. This is hard stuff to watch, one of the most despicable war crimes ever committed - interviews with Chinese survivors and seemingly remorseless and disconnected Japanese soldiers hit particularly hard - but this is essential viewing, proving that in order to move forward, we must look back.


Directed by: Bill Guttentag, Dan Sturman
Starring: Jürgen Prochnow, Mariel Hemingway, Woody Harrelson, John Getz, Stephen Dorff
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #847: 'The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies' (2014)

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.


Directed by: Peter Jackson
Starring: Martin Freeman, Ian McKellen, Richard Armitage, Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom, Evangeline Lilly, Lee Pace, Ken Stott, Aidan Turner, Dean O'Gorman
Country: New Zealand/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #846: 'Tales of Terror' (1962)

By the time the incredibly prolific Roger Corman came round to making his fourth entry in the now-dubbed Corman-Poe cycle, it seemed that the count-the-coppers director was getting a bit bored with Edgar Allen Poe. Although he would make four more adaptations, including one of the best - The Tomb of Ligeia (1964) - Tales of Terror lacks the gothic atmosphere generated in the likes of The Fall of the House of Usher (1960) and The Pit and the Pendulum (1961). There's three tales here, but little of the terror. In fact, the film works best as a comedy thanks to some tongue-in-cheek camping from Corman-Poe stalwart Vincent Price, and one of the most convincing impersonations of a drunk I've ever seen from Peter Lorre (although the actor's morphine addiction may have played some part).

The first tale, Morella, sees Price don the familiar guise of a reclusive widower, Locke, holed up in a decaying mansion in solitude. His estranged daughter Lenora (Maggie Pierce) arrives to inform her father than she is dying. With his wife Morella (Leona Gage) having died during childbirth, Locke blames his daughter and to her horror, reveals his wife's decaying corpse still lying in bed. After forgiving Lenora after she reveals her impending death, Morella's vengeful spirit awakens to try and claim her daughter's body. This first entry is relatively short and sweet, but will be overly familiar and too simplistic to any viewers who have seen Corman's previous Poe adaptations.

The central piece, The Black Cat, is a combination of two Poe stories - The Black Cat and The Cask of Amontillado - and is without a doubt the best. The permanently sozzled Montresor Herringbone (Lorre) hates his wife Annabel (Joyce Jameson) and her cat, and is frequently abusive to both. Broke, he stumbles into a wine-tasting event in the hope of some free booze. He challenges the world's finest wine taster, Fortunato Luchresi (Price), to a contest but becomes too drunk to finish. Fortunato helps him home where he meets Annabel, and the two begin an affair. When he discovers he has been cuckolded, Herringbone plans to put an end to his wife and her lover's affair, and rid himself of the black cat forever.

The Fact in the Case of M. Valdemar, the final piece, sees Price again playing a dying man under the watchful eye of hypnotist Carmichael (Basil Rathbone). Putting him in a trance moments before his death, Carmichael manages to prolong his mind, and can hear the dead man's thoughts as he experiences the finality of death. It's certainly the most interesting story from a psychological perspective, but Corman side-steps Poe's deeper themes for a more formulaic horror approach. The stories are certainly a mixed bag, lacking originality for the most part and certainly failing to capture the depth of Poe's text, but the middle story is memorable and extremely funny, with Price and Lorre delivering exceptional performances in roles they could do in their sleep.


Directed by: Roger Corman
Starring: Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Basil Rathbone, Maggie Pierce, Leona Gage, Joyce Jameson, Debra Paget
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #845: 'Mother Joan of the Angels' (1961)

In what could be viewed as a sequel to Ken Russell's The Devils (1970), Jerzy Kawalerowicz's bleak but brilliant drama tells the infamous story of the so-called 'Loudon Possessions', in which a convent of nuns were said to have been possessed by a variety of demons, seducing men and indulging in sinful activities while the Church sent priests to exorcise them. It resulted in the death of French Catholic priest Urbain Grandier, who was burned at the stake after suggestions were made that he had succumbed to evil himself, forging a 'diabolical pact' that bound his soul to the Devil. It's an event that has caught the imagination of many artists, including the aforementioned Russell, as well as Aldous Huxley. but never has it been portrayed with such terrifying foreboding as in Mother Joan of the Angels.

Father Suryn (Mieczyslaw Voit) is sent to a Polish convent in the seventeenth century, where talk amongst the sparse townsfolk are of the wicked acts committed by the nuns of the convent that looms over the town like a ghost. At the head of this apparent possession is Mother Joan (Lucyna Winnicka), who tells Suryn of the fate of the previous priest, whose charred remains still lie at the burning post. Suryn is so horrified by what he sees as the purest of evils that he promises to rid Joan of her affliction, even if it is at the expense of his own soul, becoming a martyr in the fight against Satan's influence.

The picture is black and white and the cinematography is dark and empty, capturing the hopelessness of this small, insignificant and nameless town. It resembles the minimalistic work of Ingmar Bergman and Carl Theodor Dreyer, and shares many of the conflicted representations of religion that frequented the auteur's back catalogue. The film occasionally branches out into horror, with close-ups and shadows used to powerful effect as Satan's influence creeps into Suryn's soul, leading him to reach out in desperation to a rabbi in what is one of the film's most powerful scenes. It's also a twisted love story between Joan and Suryn, transcending mere desire into something deeper and unspoken. Complex and courageous, Kawalerowicz's film will most likely always be overshadowed by Russell's more provocative work, but this is one of the finest works to come out of 60's Poland.


Directed by: Jerzy Kawalerowicz
Starring: Mieczyslaw Voit, Lucyna Winnicka, Anna Ciepielewska
Country: Poland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #844: 'Fury' (2014)

It's highly likely that David Ayer's Fury will conjure memories of Saving Private Ryan (1998). It will also bring to mind The Wild Geese (1978), The Dirty Dozen (1967), and just about every World War II movie ever made. It's also hard to shake off the idea that Brad Pitt is not playing Aldo Raine, his drawling, neck-scarred leader of a band of Nazi hunters in Quentin Tarantino's excellent Inglourious Basterds (2009). Although Fury is certainly not lacking in spectacle and decent performances, it just doesn't come up with any ideas of its own, stumbling along a wafer-thin narrative and getting lost on its way to try and figure out what type of film it wants to be.

We are in the climatic days of the war, with the U.S. deep into Germany territory, and the crew of 'Fury', an M4A3E8 Sherman tank, long battle-worn. Don 'Wardaddy' Collier (Pitt) is a hard man (we first meet him knocking a German soldier from his horse and stabbing him to death), but he struggles dealing with the horrors he has witnessed. With a crew member dead in their latest fight, rookie Norman (Logan Lerman), a kid who has never fired a gun or experienced combat, is plucked from his typing duties and thrown into Fury. The crew, consisting of bible-bashing gunner, er, Bible (Shia LaBeouf), token Hispanic driver Gordo Garcia (Michael Pena), and scumbag mechanic Coon-Ass (Jon Bernthal), don't take too kindly to the new arrival.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Fury is that it hints at potential brilliance. The underlying theme seems to be that war turns men into animals, and in one stand-out scene in which Wardaddy takes Norman into the home of two German women so he can lose his virginity, only to be interrupted by his crew and a drunken, vulgar Coon-Ass, manages to create an atmosphere of tension and discomfort. The battle scenes look very impressive too. Bullets fly across the screen like lasers, and one set-piece involving a squad of Sherman facing a superior German Tiger tank is exciting, but the film is often too eager to revel in gore and flying body parts.

Fury spends so much time giving us blood, guts and loud noises that it forgets to give us any resemblance of a plot to hang onto. It also gets so lost in trying to hammer home how damaged these men have become than it doesn't allow us to get to know the characters on any deeper level than their primary personality trait, ticking off a check-list of war movie cliches on its way. It all builds up to a ridiculous climax that pitches Fury against a 300-strong company of SS panzergrenadiers, who all proceed to jog gleefully into a hail of machine-gun fire like many a faceless video game baddie. It manages to insult both the German army and the audience's intelligence. We are given little to make us sympathise with the Americans apart from the fact that they aren't Nazi's, so come the emotions at the end, it's difficult to care at all.


Directed by: David Ayer
Starring: Brad Pitt, Logan Lerman, Shia LaBeouf, Michael Peña, Jon Bernthal
Country: USA/China/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #843: 'Under the Skin' (2013)

Director Jonathan Glazer's third film in 13 years, Under the Skin, begins with a collection of hauntingly beautiful but unfathomable images, while the soundtrack whispers a strange, alien voice that gradually evolves into broken English. Clearly taking 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) as its main inspiration, the film is a hark back to a time when sci-fi was a canvas for art, placing less importance on plot and narrative, and delving deep into the philosophical side of outer space and the great unknown. A dead girl is picked up from the side of the road by a man on a motorcycle (Jeremy McWilliams) and brought to a curious-looking female, Laura (Scarlett Johansson), who dons the girls clothes and is next seen on the streets of Glasgow.

We don't know who these people are, and know little about them by the time the final credits roll. Glazer shows us snippets at an extremely leisurely pace - this is a 'high art' film that will no doubt have as many people staring at the screen in wonder as it will people checking their watches. We get the sense that the motorcycle man is bad, and as Laura starts to pick up random men in a white van, taking them home and leading them, erections bulging, into a dark black substance, it would seem that she isn't too nice either. But when she picks up a man disfigured by neurofibromatosis, she begins to feel sympathy, letting the man go free and wandering off into the Scottish Highlands to explore our world, trying to make sense of her new emotions.

What is most fascinating about Under the Skin is the way it manages to juggle hyper-realism with genuinely eerie, provocative science fiction. What happens beneath the mysterious black liquid I won't reveal here, but it's a moment of unexpected horror that felt like a slap in the face. The sense of realism is no doubt thanks to Glazer's decision not to hire actors for the victims, and instead opted to use hidden cameras to capture their genuine reaction to being picked up by a beautiful woman and driven home for sex. It gives the film a slightly sleazy edge, and we only see Laura's transformation start to take shape when she picks up the deformed man - a quiet, possibly virginal man who has experienced much suffering.

Scarlett Johansson is a revelation. Hiding her glamorous Hollywood beauty behind a head of dark hair and cheap clothes, she is at first calculating and in control, luring victims with relative ease. But when she first experiences sympathy and flees her apparent mission, she experiences both ends of the spectrum of the human experience. A friendly man takes her in, providing food and a roof over her head, and Laura starts to appreciate her own body, curiously observing her own naked form in the mirror. Her next experience lands her in the clutches of a rapey construction worker. By the time the credits roll, many will be left feeling cold, confused and possibly bored, but I found Under the Skin to be an experience like no other, and it places Glazer at the top of the list of the many young, talented British directors to keep tabs on.


Directed by: Jonathan Glazer
Starring: Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy McWilliams, Adam Pearson
Country: UK/USA/Switzerland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #842: 'Ran' (1985)

Ten years in the making, Akira Kurosawa's Ran took it's toll on director Akira Kurosawa. Following a highly successful career in the 1950's and 60's, Kurosawa fell out of favour with modern audiences and producers due to his traditional film-making styles and topics. Japan had experienced it's own New Wave, where directors used innovative techniques to look forward, rather than looking back. Eventually backed by Sidney Lumet, Kurosawa developed his labour of love, based on Shakespeare's King Lear, and made Kagemusha (1980) - a 'warm-up' for Ran - while developing the project. He storyboarded every scene with beautiful artwork, ensured that every costume was made by hand, and even built a castle to torch it down for the movie. On top of this, his wife passed away during filming (Kurosawa took only one day off work to mourn), and by the film's completion, Kurosawa was almost completely blind.

Such dedication and rigorous planning doesn't always work out, but Ran is Kurosawa's final masterpiece. The term 'epic' is thrown around far too often these days, but if one film could really be labelled as epic, it is Ran. Epic in scale, length and scope, it's a complex, exciting and bloody movie, capturing the tragedy of Shakespeare's play, and invigorating with it's Machiavellian intrigue. The ageing warlord Hidetora Ichimonji (Tatsuya Nakadai) decides to pass his throne to his eldest son Taro (Akira Terao) so he can spend his remaining years in peace. To his other sons, Jiro (Jinpachi Nezu) and the youngest Saburo (Daisuke Ryu), he leaves two large castles. Saburu objects, calling the decision folly and foreseeing instability, and is banished by his father for his loyalty.

Before Taro's backside has warmed his new throne, his wife Lady Kaede (Mieko Harada) is whispering doubts into his ear. With Hidetora still residing in the castle, Lady Kaede tells Taro that his crown is hollow and his men will never earn his respect until his father is removed. After Hidetora kills one of Jiro's men who was about to kill his fool Kyoami (Funeral Parade of Roses' (1964) Pita), Jiro banishes his father, who then seeks refuge with Jiro. But Jiro has plans of his own, and seeing Taro as a weak leader, pretends to side with Taro in preparation for a future betrayal, and also sends Hidetora packing. With nowhere to turn, the broken and increasingly senile old man wanders to the ruins of a castle he conquered in his warmongering days. But when Saburo hears of his brothers' betrayal and Lady Kaede's scheming, war begins to brew.

Kurosawa's precise planning pays off, as Ran is a gorgeous canvas of colours and scenery, to the extent that any scene could be paused, printed and hung on the wall as a piece of art. The costumes, a sumptuous blend of red's and yellow's, bring the battle scenes to life. Bodies litter the ground, streaming with bright red blood that give the movie a grim and apocalyptic feel, and when juxtaposed with Hidetora's mental decline, makes it feel like the world is literally crumbling around him. The acting is surprisingly subtle and subdued, especially when compared to Kurosawa's earlier works. Nakadai is outstanding as the lost old man, though he is helped by some impressive make-up, but the film belongs to Harada, whose ruthless conniving truly embodies Shakespeare's text. Quite simply one of the finest films ever made.


Directed by: Akira Kurosawa
Starring: Tatsuya Nakadai, Akira Terao, Jinpachi Nezu, Daisuke Ryû, Mieko Harada, Pîtâ
Country: Japan/France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #841: 'The Offence' (1972)

Sean Connery is more a superstar than an actor. Although his talents have been recognised by the Academy (for his rather unconvincing turn as an Irish cop in The Untouchables (1987)) and remembered for his role as the first James Bond, he is high up on his own pedestal, a gift for voice actors and one of the handsomest faces ever to have graced the screen. But anyone in doubt of his ability as a proper thespian need look no further than his grim, tormented portrayal of a cop who has seen one too many dead bodies in Sidney Lumet's The Offence, a huge flop at the box office and a film now faded into memory, ripe for a re-discovery.

Playing with time Rashomon (1950)-style, the film begins in slow motion, where an unknown disturbance at a police station has a few officers panicked. It is revealed to be Detective Sergeant Johnson (Connery) standing over the bloodied body of suspect Kenneth Baxter (Ian Bannen), with fellow police officers scattered on the floor. It then goes back, and we are in a grey, miserable city gripped in panic as a child-killing paedophile roams free. The latest disappearance of a young girl has Johnson riled, and officers cruising the street pick up Baxter, who is wandering alone in the night covered in mud. The young girl is found raped but alive by Johnson himself, who insists on spending some time alone with the suspect.

Based on John Hopkins' stage play This Story of Yours, Connery fought tooth-and-nail to adapt it for the big screen, eventually reprising his role as Bond in Diamond Are Forever (1971) in return for the green-light. Although the film consists of long, talky scenes, Lumet uses stylish editing in order to avoid being stagy and to delve further into his anti-hero's head. His reputation as a no-nonsense director betrays him here, as scenes of gruesome murders, body parts, and a host of other atrocities Johnson has witnessed flash before our eyes. The use of slow motion in the flashback moments also employs a sort of circular filter at the centre of the screen, reflecting Johnson's disconnection from his actions but getting slightly tiresome in the process.

There are three long, outstanding scenes. The first is Johnson returning home to his wife (Vivien Merchant) following his interrogation of Baxter, drinking heavily and exploding at the one person who could possibly help him. The second is Johnson's own interrogation with superintendent Cartwright (the ever-excellent Trevor Howard), a man who has witnessed the same level of horror himself, but has learnt to separate his work from his life, something Johnson is unable to do. The third is the extended interrogation of Baxter, where Bannen's creepy turn surely must have been an inspiration for the Joker-Batman verbal showdown in The Dark Knight (2008). It's incredibly bleak stuff, but the raw honesty of the script and performances makes this powerful stuff.


Directed by: Sidney Lumet
Starring: Sean Connery, Trevor Howard, Ian Bannen, Vivien Merchant
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #840: 'The Incredible Melting Man' (1977)

Whilst on a space mission to Saturn, astronaut Steve West (Alex Rebar) is exposed to mysterious radiation which leaves him severely burned all over his body. His two fellow astronauts don't survive, and upon his return to Earth, Steve is bandaged and hospitalized by Lisle Wilson from Brian De Palma's Sisters (1977) while the doctors run further tests. He breaks free of his restraints and attacks a nurse, devouring her face and fleeing into the countryside. Dr. Ted Nelson (Burr DeBenning) is given the task to track down Steve before he commits more murders by General Perry (Myron Healey), who later joins him on the hunt.

Inspired by the Universal monster movies of the 30's and 40's, The Incredible Melting Man puts more focus on make-up and effects than blood and guts, which were on the rise due to the increasing popularity of slasher movies at the time. When Steve escapes the hospital, he begins to melt, his hands and face sliding off his skin in a vomit-inducing yellow and brown goo. Make-up artist Rick Baker's (of An American Werewolf In London (1981) and Videodrome (1983) fame) effects are, sadly, the only incredible thing about this cheap shlock-fest. A baffling script fails to explain just how Steve made it back home without his fellow astronauts, and more crucially, why he has suddenly developed a taste for human flesh and has gained super-strength. Even the movie's tagline, "the first new horror creature", makes no sense.

The appalling acting is made worse by some strange narrative decisions. One scene includes Dr. Nelson, having just been commanded by Perry to lead the search for Steve as a matter of extreme urgency, choose not to start straight away and instead goes home to his wife to complain about the fact that she didn't buy crackers. The film shifts between ridiculous domestic conversations and the ever-dripping murderous lunk biting, punching and decapitating his way through a highly-populated woodland area. Fans of drive-in exploitation will lap it up, and it at least moves at a fast pace, but The Incredible Melting Man is a half-baked idea thrown together without any consideration, redeemed somewhat by its wonderfully gruesome effects.


Directed by: William Sachs
Starring: Alex Rebar, Burr DeBenning, Myron Healey
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #839: 'Foxcatcher' (2014)

When it comes to depicting a real figure caught up in real events, the one aspect that movie's struggle with is really getting to the heart of it's character. Commonly, these characters are larger than life, and it takes a truly talented actor to bring them to life and an intelligent script to dig beneath their skin. Director Bennett Miller seem to have the magic touch. His three features have all been based on true-life stories. Philip Seymour Hoffman brought Truman Capote to life in Capote (2005), to the point where you believed the strange voice coming out of him wasn't a mere impersonation, but an embodiment. His second feature, Moneyball (2011) was a solid depiction of underdog coach Billy Bean (Brad Pitt), who changed baseball forever with his use of statistical analysis.

He's done it again with Foxcatcher, the shocking true tale of one man's madness amidst the quest for Olympic gold. Like with Moneyball, we are taken behind the scenes (or beyond the mat) of the sporting world, and the screen is flooded with the same damp, autumn colours as it was in Capote. It is melancholic but unsettling, as if slowly pumping up a balloon and waiting for it to burst. We first meet Olympic gold medallist Mark Schultz (Channing Tatum), scraping twenty bucks together by appearing in his brother's absence at a school to teach kids the values required to achieve a gold medal. He goes home and eats microwave noodles, and then it's back to the practice mat in preparation for the next tournament.

His luck seems on the rise when he is contacted by the mysterious John du Pont (Steve Carell), the head of a vastly wealthy dynasty who lives at his huge, beautiful Foxcatcher Farm. Curious, Mark goes to meet him and learns of du Pont's plans to make his farm the breeding ground of American wrestling. He instantly signs up, and Mark is given his own cabin and top-notch training facility. He is also given lots of cocaine, and soon submits to du Pont, at one point seen crouching in front of du Pont on his porch, like a well-trained guard dog. But du Pont is not satisfied with Mark alone - he wants his brother Dave (Mark Ruffalo), also an gold medallist - at Foxcatcher too. Only Dave has settled with his wife (Sienna Miller) and children in the suburbs and, as Mark points out, can't be bought. Du Pont cannot process this.

If you don't know the bizarre news story that came out of this arrangement, then it's best not to know. The film's foreboding is creeping. The introduction of John du Pont doesn't portray him as the strange, uncharismatic, and increasingly deranged man that he was; instead we see him at a distance, muttering pleasantries and looking down that huge nose of his. He doesn't convince as a wrestling coach, but Mark laps up the attention and luxury like any young man in his position would. When Dave eventually arrives, he sees du Pont for what he is - a man-child who inherited wealth, buying tanks to add to his military paraphernalia and living in fear of his reclusive mother (played by Vanessa Redgrave), wishing himself a leader of men without possessing any of the necessary skills required to be so. Only at this point, Mark has seen it too, but he also resents the success of his brother.

Miller and screenwriters E. Max Frye and Dan Futterman take all of this and makes it an analogy of modern America, where wealth inherited rather than earned still looms large over a country sworn to pursuing the dream and democracy. The performances are terrific. Carell and Ruffalo earned the Oscar nominations, but Tatum more than holds his own. In a scene just after a lost bout, Mark paces his room like a cage animal, suddenly bursting with rage and destroying a mirror with his head. Considering this was improvised on the spot by a dedicated Tatum, it really takes the breath away. Like the recent work of David Fincher, I believe that in the years to come, Foxcatcher will be studied as a window into our times and will be viewed as one of the finest American films of it's era.


Directed by: Bennett Miller
Starring: Steve Carell, Channing Tatum, Mark Ruffalo, Sienna Miller, Vanessa Redgrave
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie