Review #987: 'The Hangover Part II' (2011)

Todd Phillips' approach to part two of his surprise comedy smash The Hangover (2009) is that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. The original made bona fide stars out of its lead trio and grossed half a billion dollars in the process, so a sequel was always going to be on the cards. The simple formula of the hapless heroes waking up from a stag night of drink, drugs and debauchery to find the groom missing and a variety of clues lying around to help them work out just what the hell happened felt fresh, and the natural charisma of its stars, particularly Zach Galifianakis, made for a hilarious experience.

By sticking to the formula, Phillips has forced himself to a corner where the details have to bigger and more outlandish. Instead of Vegas, Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms) and Alan (Galifianakis) are in Thailand to celebrate Stu's upcoming wedding to Lauren (Jamie Chung). After a planned quiet night on the beach with a beer and marshmallows, they wake up in a grimy hotel room in Bangkok with no memory of the night before and inexplicably in the presence of gangster Mr. Chow (Ken Jeung) from the first film. When Chow seemingly overdoses on cocaine, they are left to piece things together themselves.

If this was a stand-alone movie without the existence of its predecessor, then this probably would have been a winner. While its frequently goes overboard with the crass humour, its consistently amusing without succeeding in being quite so laugh-out-loud as the first movie, thanks mainly again to Galifianakis, whose man-child Alan is the funniest aspect of the film. Yet while his naivety and plain stupidity was so endearing in the original, the sequel also takes Alan to increasingly dark places. Here, he is not so much social inept but dangerously insane to the point that he becomes occasionally outright unlikeable.

And this is the main issue - replacing charm and goofiness with extreme humour. Stu was missing a tooth in the first film, but this time he wakes up with a Mike Tyson tribal tattoo on his face. Rather than Tyson's tiger, we have a chain-smoking drug-mule monkey. Rather than finding Doug (Justin Bartha) vanished, they lose Lauren's prodigal younger brother Teddy (Mason Lee), to which the only clue to his participation is his severed finger. And having previously married a stripper, Stu discovers that - in the most uncomfortably unfunny scene - he has been sodomised by a ladyboy. Add to the mix a sub-plot involving gangster Kingsley (Paul Giamatti) and his search for Chow, the film spends too much time away from the hapless threesome's interplay in favour of watching their reactions to a variety of cruel situations.


Directed by: Todd Phillips
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis, Justin Bartha, Ken Jeong, Paul Giamatti
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #986: 'Steve Jobs' (2015)

Since his death in 2011, the world - including those who had never heard of the turtle-neck-sporting tech genius and innovator - has come to learn that the great Steve Jobs was in fact a massive dick. Like every great man, the flaws in his personality have been forgiven or excused in favour of a 'tortured genius' label, but this has not stopped various movies and documentaries cropping up to try and paint a true-to-life picture. Danny Boyle's Steve Jobs, starring Michael Fassbender in the title role, likes to think that his humanity emerged with his advancing years, as he went about literally changing the way we live our lives.

If you're someone who proudly boasts about the lack of a Facebook profile or prefers to stare out of the window during a bus-ride as opposed to staring open-mouthed at your phone, then the tech-worship and subtle hints at the innovations Jobs would go on to create may completely pass you by. I like to think I'm one of those people, but I felt like I may as well be carrying a spear and wearing a bear-skin when the 3G disappeared from my phone the other day. The film's narrative disregards the traditional biopic formula in favour of three 30 minute-plus acts, each set just before the launch of three of Jobs most famous creations - the Apple Macintosh in 1984, the NeXT computer in 1988, and the game-changing iMac in 1998.

Throughout the years, a set of key characters mingle and/or class with Jobs. Headstrong marketing executive Joan Hoffman (Kate Winslet) tries to bring the best out of her boss, but is visibly appalled when he repeatedly denies that he is the father of Lisa (played by Makenzie Moss, Ripley Sobo and Perla Haney-Jardine at various ages), often to her face. Old friend Steve Wozniak (Seth Rogen) asks him to acknowledge the efforts of the Apple II team during his presentation, much to Jobs' disgust, but fails when Jobs is fired by Apple after the failure of the Macintosh. His boss John Sculley (Jeff Daniels) finds himself blamed for Jobs' sacking in the media when he repeatedly stuck up for him and warned him of the repercussions of failing to lower the Macintosh's price.

Fassbender, although sharing little physical resemblance to the man, is outstanding, playing Jobs with a faint (and ironic) disconnection to the world and little grasp of how he is perceived by others. Aaron Sorkin, who is on script duties, goes overtime with the fast and jargon-heavy talk, and the film is rich with his signature corridor-pacing conversations. The decision to condense his key years into three acts offers a fresh take on the usual incident-by-incident biographies, but it also means that characters are ushered into scenes unnaturally to resolve their personal conflict, with Wozniak especially reduced to a conduit for the audience. Boyle's direction is refreshingly unflashy when compared to the senses-rattling Trance (2013), and instead allows his actors and their quick-fire dialogue to breathe freely. It certainly falls short the other biopic of a technological innovator - The Social Network (2010) - but, despite its flaws, it still manages to find a soul within its obnoxious bully.

Directed by: Danny Boyle

Starring: Michael Fassbender, Kate Winslet, Seth Rogen, Jeff Daniels, Michael Stuhlbarg, Katherine Waterston, John Ortiz

Country: USA/UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #985: 'Samurai Rebellion' (1967)

In Masaki Kobayashi's Samurai Rebellion, Toshiro plays a skilled swordsman named Isaburo, a silent type who places honour and family above everything else. In many ways, Isaburo is like the humble American cowboy of old, and the Japanese samurai movies themselves share many of the same qualities of the Western - an almost mythical historical setting where good battles bad, albeit often on a larger scale. Yet the samurai movies seem infinitely more complex beneath the surface, satirising a time where feudal lords reigned over vast areas of land and the common-folk and nobles were kept in line by social rigidity.

Isaburo has lived most of his life by this code. Having suffered in silence following years being henpecked by his wife who he married on the order of his daimyo, he has nonetheless proven himself to be the greatest swordsman in the land, winning the respect of his superiors in the process. It is because of this reputation that his son Yogoro (Go Kato) is chosen as the husband for their lords ex-concubine Lady Ichi (Yoko Tsukasa), who had previously given birth to a potential heir but now banished from her lords castle after disgracing herself. Isaburo reluctantly accepts the proposal and the marriage surprisingly turns out to be a loving one. But when his heir dies unexpectedly and Ichi's child moves next in line, the lord demands that Ichi be returned to the castle. Yogoro refuses and, moved by their true love, Isaburo takes a stand next to his son.

Even when they aren't inspired by the Bard, these types of movies always have a Shakespearian quality. As all the pieces are carefully moved into place for the final showdown, Samurai Rebellion builds towards inevitable Greek tragedy. There are no huge Kurosawa-esque battles here, but plenty of inner turmoil as Isaburo wrestles with obeying his liberty-taking ruler and standing for what he knows is right. After years of tending to his clans armoury (this is set during the peaceful Edo period), Isaburo gleefully cries out that he has never felt so alive. The finale is a bloody set-piece that demonstrates Mifune's natural skill with a blade as Isaburo lets loose, and is the perfect ending to a film built on hushed glances and political manoeuvring. One of the finest examples of its genre.


Directed by: Masaki Kobayashi
Starring: Toshirô Mifune, Yôko Tsukasa, Gô Katô, Tatsuyoshi Ehara
Country: Japan

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #984: 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' (2014)

Not content with taking one beloved 80's cartoon (Transformers) and draining it of all personality and the sort of charm that made it so appealing to begin with, Michael Bay - here on production duties - has now made a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie simply because he could. In his hands, the title seems less the quirky advert for the cartoons bat-shit crazy mythology than a series of series of keywords input by the type of audience it's attempting to attract. It retains enough of the back-story originally created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird to justify calling itself a Turtles movie, but ultimately panders to a teenage audience too young to know any better.

Young New York reporter April O'Neil (Megan Fox) is becoming frustrated at her stations insistence that she cover tedious news stories while a terrorist organisation named the Foot Clan instigate a crime wave throughout the city. During a couple of close encounters with the Clan, in which she happens to be at the right place at the right time, April spies a quartet of huge vigilantes who save the day before disappearing into the night. One night, she follows the trail and discovers that the vigilantes are four 6-foot anthropomorphic ninja turtles named Leonardo (Pete Ploszek with Johnny Knoxville's voice), Raphael (Alan Ritchson), Donatello (Jeremy Howard) and Michelangelo (Noel Fisher).

William Fichtner plays a corrupt CEO named Eric Stacks, whose big plan is to infect the city with a virus only he and his company have the vaccine for. It's a wonder why Stacks wasn't just written as the big bad rather than having him report to Shredder (Tohoru Masamune), a huge Japanese warrior with an impressive set of kitchen knives. Yet since Marvel established the potential for universe building and the money to be made from it, an increasingly common blockbuster trait is sacrificing a stand-alone story for the sake of establishing a franchise. With Ninja Turtles, we get a half-baked plot that simply teases how exciting things could get, without really delivering in the movie we are actually watching. Only a shell-surf down a snowy mountain that leaves the law of physics in its wake really excites.

The film isn't quite as awful as I'm perhaps making it out to be, but it's let down by being so shockingly mediocre. The main positives are the turtles themselves. While being underused (Leonardo barely gets a look in), they are stunningly rendered. Far more grotesque creations than those of the cartoon, they are almost completely life-like, all bulging muscles and tatty clothes. Unlike the indistinguishable hunks of metal of Transformers, you can also actually tell them apart (although their character development doesn't reach beyond 'leader', 'hard-ass', 'tech-genius' and 'loose-cannon'). In between the CGI fist-fights is when the film really suffers. Bay's influence can be felt throughout, no more than the cutesy fast-talk bickering between April and her horny partner Vernon (Will Arnett) who share zero chemistry and are lumbered with some cringe-worth one-liners. Despite all of this, the world-building obviously worked, with the sequel due to arrive later this year.


Directed by: Jonathan Liebesman
Starring: Megan Fox, Will Arnett, William Fichtner, Alan Ritchson, Noel Fisher, Pete Ploszek, Johnny Knoxville, Jeremy Howard, Tony Shalhoub
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #983: 'What Have You Done to Solange?' (1972)

Massimo Dallamano is rarely mentioned in the same breath as his fellow Italian heavyweights Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci or Umberto Lenzi, yet he was responsible for two gialli that can be considered two of the best of their kind. One is What Have They Done to Your Daughters? (1974) and the other another Edgar Wallace adaptation that poses a similarly eye-catching question in its title, What Have You Done to Solange? The latter is one of the finest giallo I've seen, favouring tension and character above blood and boobs - although there's plenty of the red stuff too, and an admittedly unnecessary all-girls-school-shower scene.

Enrico Rosseni (Fabio Testi) is a suave Italian teacher at a School for Girls in London. He is stuck in an unhappy marriage with Herta (Karin Baal), who works at the same school teaching German. To escape the tedium of married life, he embarks on an affair with one of his lovely young students Elizabeth (Cristina Galbo). When on a secret date in the woods, Elizabeth witnesses a murder in which a masked man murders a girl by knifing her between the legs. Enrico dismisses her claims, but when he hears the murder reported on the news, he re-visits the scene and is captured on camera in the process. With the police and his wife breathing down his neck, Enrico tries to divert suspicion without his secret getting out.

Backed by a tremendous Ennio Morricone score (are there any movies he didn't provide the music for?) and gorgeous cinematography by Aristide Massaccesi (a.k.a. shlockmeister Joe D'Amato), Solange's great hook is its engaging plot. Working out who the mysterious killer is as much fun as watching the likeable Testi squirm out of his increasingly desperate predicament. The Solange of the title doesn't get mentioned until the final third, but when she does turn up in the form of I Spit on Your Grave's Camille Keaton, the film avoids cheap thrills and delivers carefully constructed shocks during the fittingly upsetting climax. If there's any justice in the cinematic world, Dallamano will someday receive the respect he deserves.


Directed by: Massimo Dallamano
Starring: Fabio Testi, Cristina Galbó, Karin Baal, Joachim Fuchsberger, Camille Keaton
Country: Italy/West Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

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

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

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

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


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

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #981: 'Boogie Nights' (1997)

I must have watched writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson's Boogie Nights over thirty times in my life. Around 1999, it represented cinematic perfection to me and I would view it repeatedly. Now almost 20 years old - although I no longer consider it as the pinnacle of cinema - I still consider it great and to be one of the best movies of the 90's. This is mainly down to how fresh is still feels, with its show-off yet breathtaking long-takes, moments of off-the-wall humour, and dead-on depictions of the decadent 70's through to the over-indulgent 80's, which all assist the film in sweeping you into its hidden world of glamour, sex and drugs.

That world is the world of pornography, though through Anderson's lens it doesn't feel too dissimilar to Hollywood itself, just on a smaller scale. The young, handsome and unnervingly well-endowed Eddie Adams (Mark Wahlberg) is working in the kitchen of a Hollywood nightclub when he is talent spotted by porno auteur Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds). Jack knows that "there is something special behind those jeans just waiting to get out," and soon enough Eddie has renamed himself Dirk Diggler and is the hottest porn star in the country. With success comes the big house, the designer clothes and the fancy sports car, but also lots of cocaine.

Clearly inspired by the work of Robert Altman, Boogie Nights boasts a fantastic ensemble of interesting characters, all hugely endearing despite their obvious flaws. Jack lives with porn star Amber Waves (Julianne Moore), who doesn't get to see her son due to her lavish lifestyle, and Rollergirl (Heather Graham), another actress fresh out of school who never takes her skates off. Dirk buddies up with Reed Rothchild (John C. Reilly), an aspiring magician who idolises his enigmatic co-star. Behind the camera are Little Bill (William H. Macy), the timid scriptwriter whose wife (played by real-life porn star Nina Hartley) openly sleeps with other men, and Scottie (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who becomes smitten with Dirk. There's also Buck (Don Cheadle), a stereo-system obsessive going through an image crisis.

Anderson was only 26 when the film was released, hot off the disappointingly pedestrian Hard Eight (1996), and yet despite his youth he pulled of something remarkably complex with Boogie Nights. Not only is it a peek behind the curtain of a business normally portrayed as sleazy and distasteful, seen through the eyes of those who operate it, but also a summary of the shift in social attitudes and values at the time, from feelings of optimism and sexual expression of the 70's, to the greed and paranoia of the 80's. As Dirk's drug consumption spirals out of control, he struggles to perform and falls out with Jack. One standout scene near the final act sees Dirk, Reid and moustachioed sleazeball Todd Parker (Thomas Jane) attempt to pull off a drug deal with a friendly but unhinged Alfred Molina.

It's during this scene that Anderson lingers on Dirk's face for a considerable amount of time. Although it probably only lasts about 25 seconds, it manages to pin-point his moment of realisation while allowing the audience time to some up their feelings towards him. And most probably, despite his horrible and selfish actions, you'll still hope it turns out well for him. The camera plays like a character sometimes, whether it be swooping in and out of a pool in one of the many homages to Martin Scorsese, or lingering on producer Colonel James's (Robert Ridgely) startled face as he sees Dirk's prize asset for the first time. Anderson would go on to prove himself one of the finest of his generation with Magnolia (1999), There Will Be Blood (2007) and The Master (2012), but Boogie Nights is still one of his best - dazzling, funny, and uniquely absorbing.


Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Burt Reynolds, Julianne Moore, John C. Reilly, Heather Graham, Don Cheadle, William H. Macy, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ricky Jay
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #980: 'Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows' (2011)

In 2009 Sherlock Holmes was re-imagined by Guy Ritchie as an ass-kicking and mentally unstable private investigator with a weakness for a variety of mind-altering substances. Played by Robert Downey Jr., Holmes was Iron Man without the vast fortune, super-suit and fashionable beard, but with the same genius-level intellect, capable of predicting the exact outcome of a fight with a foe before the first punch is thrown. Though heavily compromised by Ritchie's sledgehammer subtlety and love for annoying Cockney geezers, it was still an entertaining take on an extremely familiar character, with Downey Jr. at his twitchy best and demonstrating a convincing English accent.

A Game of Shadows, the bloated sequel rushed into production after the international success of its predecessor, turns the doctor from idiosyncratic eccentric to a babbling pantomime. When we meet Holmes, he is rescuing his flame Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams) from a bomb intended for somebody else. The package was given to her by the scheming Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris), and after her next meeting with him, she disappears. On the eve of his wedding, Dr. Watson (Jude Law) arrives at Baker Street to find Holmes deep into investigating a splurge of seemingly unrelated murders and business acquisitions linked to Moriarty, and at Watson's bachelor party, the two encounter a gypsy woman named Simza (Noomi Rapace), the intended recipient of the letter that accompanied the bomb.

Without any sign of the storytelling flair of the books, A Game of Shadows becomes little more than a series of punch-ups, shoot-outs and inane exchanges between Holmes and his trusted Watson. At one point, the heroes are fired at by an increasingly ridiculous arsenal of machine guns as trees shatter and fireballs explode around them in ultra slo-mo. Any resemblance to one of literatures most beloved characters is lost, and it feels instead like you're watching a movie about The Transporter's British granddad, albeit with a touch more style. Mad Men's Harris is impressive as Holmes's most challenging foe, but Rapace's character is so redundant that she is reduced to just a pretty face for the poster. Shockingly, the main problem is Downey Jr., whose hyperactive shtick is as tiresome as the plot he is caught up in.


Directed by: Guy Ritchie
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Jude Law, Noomi Rapace, Jared Harris, Rachel McAdams, Stephen Fry
Country: USA

Rating: **
Tom Gillespie

Review #979: 'Ace in the Hole' (1951)

Billy Wilder - the American director whose body of work sailed as closely to perfection as one can get - reportedly referred to Ace in the Hole, a rare flop for Wilder, as "the runt of my cinematic litter." Dismissed by critics upon release for its cynical depiction of the tabloids and law enforcement, it has since been re-discovered and lavished with praise for foreshadowing a world in which we are bombarded with sensationalised news stories that are now never more than a thumb-swipe away. Kirk Douglas plays Chuck Tatum, a hard-drinking, troublemaking reporter exiled from New York to New Mexico, where he plans to recoup at a low-circulation local paper until he lands a story that will have his big-city former pals clawing at each other for his services.

After over a year without the big break he was counting on, Tatum bitterly takes to the road to cover a rattlesnake hunt. On route, he stumbles across a weeping woman while filling his car with gas and, when a police car whizzes by, quickly sniffs the air for something big. It turns that a local man called Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) has become trapped in a cave while looking for local Indian artefacts. Remembering W. Floyd Collins, who had the nation gripped while in a similar situation, Tatum seizes his chance and quickly sets up shop, convincing Minosa's unhappy wife Lorraine (Jan Sterling) to stay and play the weeping damsel for the cameras and microphones, and strikes a deal with corrupt local sheriff Kretzer (Ray Teal) to support his re-election bid

A more recent film to cover similar ground was Nighcrawler (2014), starring Jake Gyllenhaal as a more outwardly slimy reporter, manipulating events to his own benefit. The difference with Ace in the Hole is that Tatum does, by the end, discover a shred of humanity without losing his ferocity, as Leo's situation starts to look increasingly dire. Before his moral epiphany though, he shapes events with a Machiavellian wickedness, delaying the rescue and therefore allowing the story to garner national coverage, and using the strong-armed sheriff to shoo away any rival newspapers. It turns into a media circus, literally. Tatum stands on a mountain admiring what he has created while people flock to the scene in their hundreds and carnival rides are set up. A band even performs a song about Leo to the crowd and sells the recordings.

Partly down to Douglas's astonishingly acid-tongued and energetic performance and partly Lesser Samuels, Walter Newman and Wilder's ferocious script, Ace in the Hole rests easily on par with the likes of The Lost Weekend (1945) and Some Like it Hot (1959), although it falls short of Double Indemnity (1944) and Sunset Blvd. (1950). He didn't get much wrong in his career, but Wilder's evaluation of the film is certainly dumbfounding. Unrelenting in its foreboding of where journalism was in danger of heading, Ace in the Hole is gripping storytelling. Douglas stampedes through the scenery like a branded bull, and his characters increasingly desperate actions remain shocking even now, 65 years later.


Directed by: Billy Wilder
Starring: Kirk Douglas, Jan Sterling, Robert Arthur, Richard Benedict, Frank Cady, Ray Teal
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #978: 'Black Mass' (2015)

Over his impressively long career, Johnny Depp has adorned make-up and a variety of wigs, contact lenses and outlandish costumes to deliver a plethora of memorable (and not-so-memorable) characters, performed with a trademark flamboyance now simpatico with the actor. The success of these films, which are often seen through the gothic lens of Tim Burton, makes it easy to forget that there is a good-looking actor capable of a fantastic 'normal' performance in there somewhere. Black Mass shows a bit of both sides. He has once again donned a rather distracting appearance - a set of pale blue eyes, a receding hairline and bulbous nose - to portray James "Whitey" Bulger, but there is also a terrific and unseen intensity to Depp here, convincingly scaring the shit out of anyone he comes across.

Clearly channelling Scorsese visually, director Scott Cooper of Crazy Heart (2009) and Out of the Furnace (2013) fame skips his main character's rise to criminal overlord in favour of showing us just how much of a bastard Bulger was (and probably still is). His otherworldly appearance, with blotchy skin and a mouth full of wonky brown teeth, is not how the real man looked but instead serves to highlight his monstrous nature. Bulger's activities are recollected by his former gang members Stephen Flemmi (Rory Cochrane), Kevin Weeks (Jesse Plemons) and John Martorano (W. Earl Brown), who all have their own bone to pick with him by the end of their story. His willingness to murder and threaten whether it be for business, pleasure, or to simply stay out of jail led to Bulger becoming one of the most notorious criminals in Boston history.

In the beginning, Bulger is approached by FBI agent John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), a local boy, who offers him a free ticket to the top of the criminal underworld. It's not snitching, but a deal that benefits both sides as Connolly is served rival gang members on a plate, and Bulger gets to carry on with his illegal activities without the prying eyes of federal agents. Only Connolly seems to be enjoying peeking into the criminal high life a bit too much while Bulger gives him diddly squat. Bulger plays him like a fiddle, managing to silence a dinner table with murderous threats thinly disguised as jest in one stand-out scene. And Black Mass is at its best when the film moves into darker territory, cruelly teasing the inevitable brutality to come whenever a disposable minor character shuffles onto the scene.

Narratively, it's all over the place and tends to neglect detail in favour of more conventional biopic storytelling. In the few scenes he has, Benedict Cumberbatch oozes a subtle sliminess as Whitey's Massachusetts State Senate President brother Billy. The vastly different paths these two brothers took could have made for engaging drama and given the film more balance, but strangely Cooper chooses to almost ignore the relationship completely to concentrate on Bulger's dealing with the FBI, so Cumberbatch is criminally under-served. However, as silly as he looks, Depp is genuinely unsettling and, like the film as a whole, gets under your skin. Black Mass sounds like it should be a horror, and as the creepy real-life security footage plays out over the credits, its hard to deny that in many way it is.


Directed by: Scott Cooper
Starring: Johnny Depp, Joel Edgerton, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dakota Johnson, Rory Cochrane, Jesse Plemons, Kevin Bacon, Peter Sarsgaard, Julianne Nicholson
Country: USA/UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #977: 'Straight Outta Compton' (2015)

N.W.A.'s seminal 1988 hit Fuck tha Police should now be, as well as a great song, a window into a darker, more brutal past that we can now look back at on in disbelief. Like Billie Holiday's haunting Strange Fruit and Bob Marley's Buffalo Soldier, the record paints an uncomfortable picture of the treatment of black people, specifically, in N.W.A.'s case, the willingness of police officers to beat on any young black teenager that happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sadly, with almost daily reports of police brutality still occurring in America, Fuck tha Police is just as relevant as ever, and F. Gary Gray's Straight Outta Compton - the story of N.W.A. - pulses with the same anger and energy.

Even though it runs at just shy of three hours, Straight Outta Compton is forced to cram in a lot of incident from the ten-year period it covers, but still maintains its attention to detail throughout. Beginning in a Compton brimming with racial and gang tension, a young Andre "Dr. Dre" Young (Corey Hawkins), O'Shea "Ice Cube" Jackson (played by Cube's real-life song, O'Shea Jackson Jr.) and Antoine "DJ Yella" Carraby (Neil Brown Jr.) bring the house down with a performance of Gangsta Gangsta, much to the dislike of the club owner who disapproves of their aggressive style and confrontational lyrics. Seeking money to record, Dre turns to gang members Eric "Eazy-E" Wright (Jason Mitchell) and Lorenzo "MC Ren" Patterson (Aldis Hodge) for a cash injection, and following the release of hit Boyz-N-The-Hood, the Niggaz With Attitude are approached by manager Jerry Heller (Paul Giamatti).

What follows is the familiar biopic formula frothing at the brim with enough in-fighting, doomed business relationships, personal conflict and artistic milestones to fill twenty stand-alone documentaries. But Gray infuses the film with such ferocity and authenticity that its easy to forgive the films misgivings and be utterly enthralled by almost every scene. The live performances especially - and there are many - are utterly thrilling. Bolstered by the sheer raw brilliance of N.W.A.'s music and a terrific ensemble who all share an uncanny resemblance to their real-life counterparts (obviously in Jackson Jr.'s case), the film truly comes alive in these moments, whether it be in the concert hall or the recording studio. When the group defy Detroit police with a literal middle finger and belt out the song they were warned not to play, you feel like standing up and chanting with the crowd as the police swarm the stage.

The first half of Straight Outta Compton is the best, as the gang rise to fame and speak out against police brutality (the beating of Rodney King being the breaking point). Darkness looms and is teased with the presence of ex-con-turned-producer Suge Knight (played a terrifying R. Marcos Taylor) and Cube's increasing unease with Eazy E's blossoming business relationship with Heller. As Knight lays seeds of doubt in Dre's mind, everyone apart from Eazy seems to be getting screwed out of their money. The film strides along with swagger and attitude, with highlights including Eazy's crack deal gone slight awry in the opening scene and a one-shot tour of the band's hotel room as armed strangers come a-knocking.

The film then gives way to some slightly overwrought sentiment and a who's who of the 90's West Coast rappers. Snoop Dogg (Keith Stanfield) and 2Pac (Marcc Rose) show up for no reason whatsoever, and Eazy begins his rapid descent to an early death of AIDS in some not-so-subtle scenes depicting the deterioration of his health . A end credits montage seemingly celebrating the wealth of Dre and Cube as well reminding us of some of the not-so-great things they've done over the years (Dre was responsible for 50 Cent after all) also leaves a bad taste in the mouth. These things stop it from being great, but this is still one of the best movies I've seen this year. It's best to let yourself get swept up in 90's nostalgia, savour the fantastic music (unless you're a rap Nazi), and watch the world only now seen in fuzzy music videos feel alive once again.


Directed by: F. Gary Gray
Starring: O'Shea Jackson Jr., Corey Hawkins, Jason Mitchell, Neil Brown Jr., Aldis Hodge, Paul Giamatti, R. Marcos Taylor
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #976: 'Zack and Miri Make a Porno' (2008)

Despite the obvious smuttiness of the title, Zack and Miri Make a Porno is one of writer/director Kevin Smith's sweetest, and most formulaic, films to date. Pushing it's 'R' rating to the limit with its combination of sexual innuendo, crude profanity and skin-on-skin action, Seth Rogen's cuddly and beardy Zack and Elizabeth Banks's bubbly and adorably inept Miri - life-long friends sharing a frozen Pittsburg appartment - are a particularly cutesy couple, and the slow realisation of their love for one another provides a nice and oddly believable romance.

Having not paid their utility bills in months due to sheer bone idleness and Zack's weakness for making ridiculous online purchases, Zack and Miri are cut off and are left to huddle next to a home-made indoor fire in their overcoats. Whilst attending their high school reunion, Miri hopes to bump uglies with her former crush, Bobby Long (Brandon Routh), but discovers that he is now gay and in a relationship with gay porn star Brandon (Justin Long - a porn name if I ever heard one). Impressed with Brandon's success, Zack suggests to Miri that they make their own porn movie in the hope of making enough money to have the lights switched back on.

At its best, Zack and Miri is very funny, with Craig Robinson's deadpan Delaney, Zack's co-worker who helps fund the project, providing the majority of the films most humorous moments. When it really should be the anti-When Harry Met Sally (1989), it misses a trick by following the rom-com gospel to a tee. Although it certainly doesn't shy away from the porn (Jason Mewes and Traci Lords get to enjoy most of that), its little more than a veil for a traditional "it was you all along!" romance. Still, even though it doesn't reach the heights of Smith's best works like Clerks (1994) and Chasing Amy (1997), there are plenty of laughs to be had for the casual audience and Smith cultists alike.


Directed by: Kevin Smith
Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Seth Rogen, Craig Robinson, Jeff Anderson, Jason Mewes, Traci Lords, Brandon Routh, Justin Long
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #975: 'Dunkirk' (1958)

Surprisingly, precious few films exist depicting the events of Operation Dynamo during World War II. The emergency evacuation of thousands of British, French and Belgian soldiers from the beaches of Dunkirk while the Nazis closed in around them was described as a "colossal military blunder" by Winston Churchill and could have ended the war there and then. However, the assistance of hundreds of civilians who sailed from the south of England in a small armada of speedboats, yachts and fishing boats to rescue their battered allies provided a united front in what was then dubbed the 'Phoney War' and an astonishing tale of bravery to boot.

Leslie Norman's Dunkirk does not shy away from the buffoonery of high command which led to Allied troops being pushed further and further back until they were surrounded from every angle, but also explores themes of heroism in the face of invasion. Telling two parallel stories, we witness the events leading up to Dunkirk from the front-line, where inexperienced corporal 'Tubby' Binns (John Mills) finds himself in suddenly in charge after the death of his superior and separated from the bulk of his company in hostile territory. From the Home Front, cynical journalist Charles Foreman (Bernard Lee) is attempting to snap his fellow countrymen out of their laid-back state to pay attention to a war that is creeping on their doorstep.

Charles is met by people who agree with his concerns, but also those who are blissfully unaware of his country's dyer situation. In particular, local businessman Holden (Richard Attenborough) is making himself a tidy profit from the Phoney War and laps up the propaganda played over the radio. Attenborough's coward is the film's most intriguing plot-line and certainly the most complex character on show. Although he has relatively little screen-time compared to Mills and Lee, its Holden's reaction to the horror on the beach which subsequently changes his entire outlook that lingers in the mind once the film is over.

Mills' loveable Tubby looks like the more conventional hero, wise-cracking and back-slapping his men, but as the situation worsens his ability to command is questioned as leaves one of his men to die and fails to inspire his troops to move when told. Mills gets the bulk of the screen-time, and while his journey to the beaches provide some technically impressive set-pieces, there's an unevenness to the juxtaposition of the intertwining tales when they really deserve equal billing. Tubby's escapades means that it takes a long time to get the evacuation, but when it does, the sights of hundreds of soldiers wading out into the ocean in the hope of rescue and the horror exploding around them still holds up today. It's a moving and beautifully filmed final half hour that is worth the price of admission alone.


Directed by: Leslie Norman
Starring: John Mills, Bernard Lee, Richard Attenborough, Robert Urquhart
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #974: 'Legend' (2015)

Peter Medak's 1990 film The Krays, starring Gary and Martin Kemp from Spandau Ballet as the titular London geezers, was decent, anchoring the twins' narrative on their overbearing mother, played ferociously by Billie Whitelaw. But seeing the film now, over two decades later, its synth-heavy score makes it feel dated and presses the need for a modern re-telling. Director Brian Helgeland bagged one of the most charismatic actors on the planet to play not one, but both of the twins for his update, and when the trailer first emerged on the internet for Legend, it felt like we were finally getting the definitive story of two of the most notorious gangsters in British history. So how on Earth did Legend turn out so mind-numbingly terrible?

In the early scenes we are carried along on a wave of genre cliches, from the spontaneous date proposal from the charming bad boy to the curious girl who should really know better, to a Steadicam shot of a swinging nightclub interior as the girl drinks this glamorous new world in without questioning how such luxury was achieved. It works like a students version of Goodfellas (1990), only without the originality, style or sparkling dialogue. The girl is Frances, or Frankie, and her new fella just happens to be Reggie Kray (Tom Hardy), former boxer-turned-criminal kingpin who, along with his twin Ronnie (also Hardy), are well on their path to ruling London with an iron fist. However, Legend seems more invested in the relationship between Reggie and Frankie than any of the twins' brutal schemes, and Emily Browning fails to inject any life into a thanklessly written role.

One of many of the film's baffling decisions is to have Frankie provide the voice-over, forcing her to deliver such lines as "a cup of tea can solve anything," with semi-conviction. Helgeland's script for L.A. Confidential won an Oscar in 1997, but Legend's dialogue makes the dullest of ITV dramas sound like Shakespeare spoken by Alan Rickman (R.I.P.). Yet this could be forgiven had the on-screen action possess an ounce of narrative coherency. Instead, Helgeland portrays the ups-and-downs of Reggie and Frankie's rocky marriage, dipping in and out of the Krays criminal activities whenever it seems to want to show us someone getting punched or shouted at in a style not to dissimilar to the work of Guy Ritchie.

Hardy tries his best, but his two characters have been written so cartoon-like that it's difficult take them seriously. Reggie is the brain who hides his violent urges, and Ronnie is the unhinged muscle who has no desire to disguise his brutal tendencies, seemingly revelling in telling other gangsters of his preference to boys. Ronnie is certainly the most interesting of the twins, but he gets a surprising lack of screen-time. His scenes with his more successful and handsome brother provide the stand-out moments, namely a bar fight that sees Hardy fight Hardy, but the complexity of their rocky relationship is only glimpsed and barely explored. Small roles for the likes of David Thewlis, Christopher Eccleston, Sam Spruell, John Sessions, Paul Bettany and Taron Egerton are highlights - Egerton, as 'Mad' Teddy Smith, in particular - but this is small praise for a film that simply left me bored and unenlightened.


Directed by: Brian Helgeland
Starring: Tom Hardy, Emily Browning, Christopher Eccleston, Taron Egerton, David Thewlis, Sam Spruell, Chazz Palminteri
Country: UK/France/USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie