Review #1,287: 'Punch-Drunk Love' (2002)

When asked what his next project would be following the success of his L.A. ensemble one-two of Boogie Nights and Magnolia, writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson responded that he would be making an Adam Sandler movie. He was met with a hearty chuckle by whoever was interviewing him, but little did they know that a comedy starring most people's - at least I would hope - least favourite comedy star was actually on the cards. Punch-Drunk Love ended up taking home the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival, but was undoubtedly Anderson's most divisive film. Surprisingly short and often incredibly weird, the film has garnered more and more respect and appreciation amongst fans and critics over the last 15 years, and many now even consider it to be the director's best work in a catalogue that includes the likes of There Will Be Blood and The Master.

Punch-Drunk Love revolves around Barry Egan (Sandler), a troubled and socially-awkward salesman of toilet plungers and various other novelty items. Forever bedecked in a blue suit and red tie combination, Barry tries to keep to himself while harbouring a hatred for his inability to be 'normal', but his seven hen-pecking and overbearing sisters are constantly trying to 'bring him out of his shell'. Whenever his sisters mention the way they treated him as a child, he responds in a fit of rage. A family party is brought to a swift end when he kicks through patio doors after being reminded of a particularly cruel childhood nickname. He finds solace in a harmonium he finds dumped outside his work's warehouse, and eventually in an English woman named Lena (Emily Watson) introduced to him by his sister Elizabeth (Mary Lynn Rajskub). They like each other straight away, but she travels a lot, so Barry starts to take full advantage of a marketing loop-hole that will grant him a lifetime of air miles through purchasing mass quantities of cheap pudding.

Anderson is apparently fond of Sandler's work, so he obviously sees something in the actor whose success has left many of us befuddled. Sandler typically plays the same person: The childish slacker who is a nice guy deep down, but prone to outbursts of rage. He plays very much the same here, only he is likeable and sympathetic, delivering his best performance to date. When he isn't smashing up a restaurant toilet or bruising his hand on his office wall, Sandler is remarkably subtle, mixing up his words in a nervous tic and struggling to meet people's gaze. In his loneliness, Barry phones a sex-line and ends up on the receiving end of a blackmail scheme run by scumbag mattress-store owner Dean (Philip Seymour Hoffman). It's all over the place in terms of plot, but Punch-Drunk Love is very much a character piece built around a troubled yet fascinating man finally finding love in the chaos of his life and his own mind. It's an acquired taste, but far more accessible than some of Anderson's later work, especially The Master and Inherent Vice. We probably all know a Barry but have likely kept our distance, but Punch-Drunk Love is brave enough to place him front and centre, lending a voice to the type of introvert misunderstood and viewed with suspicion by most.


Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Adam Sandler, Emily Watson, Luis Guzmán, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Mary Lynn Rajskub
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,286: 'The Toxic Avenger Part II' (1989)

Five years after he fell into a drum of toxic waste and stated taking revenge on the school bullies that had harassed him his entire life, Melvin Ferd AKA The Toxic Avenger (here renamed Melvin Junko) returned for a sequel as Troma's lucky charm. Troma are a small production company proudly trafficking in schlock, but 'Toxie', New Jersey's first and only superhero, was a surprise hit, spawning comic-books, action figures and even a stage musical. Directors Michael Herz and Lloyd Kaufman - also the company's founders - knew there was money to be made, and the character ended up getting three sequels. 1984's The Toxic Avenger, like Troma's fellow cult classic Class of Nuke 'Em High, was so memorable because it was funny, off-the-wall and had real heart buried deep within.

This cash-grab sequel seems to forget all of this, and in blowing its load far too early in the film, sucks all the fun out of Toxie and his crazy adventures. Having completely rid Tromaville of crime, Toxie (played by both Ron Fazio and John Altamura following the latter's dismissal), has made the town a haven, and the hideous but gentle creature with super size and strength enjoys life looking after the blind and shacking up at the junk yard with his (also blind) girlfriend Claire (Phoebe Legere). A life without crime has given Toxie a chance to reflect, and in his depressed state he decides that the only way to fill the void in his heart is by confronting his estranged father in Japan. With the good-hearted monster off to Asia in a sailboat, evil corporation Apocalypse Inc. move into town to spread toxic waste and evil in equal measures.

To give The Toxic Avenger Part II its due, there are quite a few very funny moments. A small appearance by Michael Jai White making his big-screen debut and watching the oblivious Japanese public gaze with curiosity and terror as the rubber-suited hero struts through Tokyo are some of the highlights, and an early extended fight scene is just absolutely bonkers. But Toxie's trip to Japan feels more of a diversion from the lack of care taken with the story, which is all over the place and takes way, way too long to reach its end. While some of the jokes land, around 90% fall flat on their face, with a heavy reliance on childish slapstick humour and silly costumes for cheap laughs. The daftness is quite endearing for a short period of time, but then it hits you that this is what you're getting for a whole 100 minutes, and the film quickly becomes an absolute chore.


Directed by: Michael Herz, Lloyd Kaufman
Starring: Ron Fazio, John Altamura, Phoebe Legere, Rick Collins
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,285: 'Kingsman: The Golden Circle' (2017)

Having directed no fewer than three comic-book adaptations with Kick-Ass, X-Men: First Class and Kingsman: The Secret Service, it's a wonder director Matthew Vaughn has taken so long to deliver a sequel. Kingsman took over 400 million at the box-office and was one of the surprise successes of 2014, and with critical and audience responses both overwhelmingly positive for the My Fair Lady-meets-James Bond spy comedy, a sequel was always going to be on the cards. With The Golden Circle, Vaughn and returning screenwriter Jane Goldman have taken the route of most sequels and made everything bigger, but not necessarily better. The Golden Circle may please some fans of the original with its lashings of ultra-violence and colourful language, but I suspect many will become sickly with the film's desire to throw everything at the screen to see what sticks.

A year on from preventing Samuel L. Jackson's plan to wipe out the majority of the world's population using mania-inducing SIM cards, and Eggsy (Taron Egerton) has settled well within the ranks of the Kingsman and has shacked up with Princess Tilde of Sweden (Hanna Alstrom). One night he is attacked by a former foe he had long thought dead: Charlie Hesketh (Edward Holcroft), the failed Kingsman applicant believed to have perished in the head-exploding finale of the previous film. Charlie is alive and well, and has been fitted with a hi-tech bionic arm capable of brute strength. Eggsy manages to overcome Charlie, but the severed arm hacks its way into the Kingsman's computer system. Soon enough, the majority of Britain's finest secret service has been taken out by long-range missiles. Along with Merlin (Mark Strong), Eggsy travels to the U.S. to investigate a clue left in the agency's Doomsday protocol, and discover a sister agency named the Statesman led by the gruff Champagne (Jeff Daniels).

The Statesman are like the Kingsman, only instead of bespoke suits and good table manners, they dress like cowboys and have nicknames based on alcoholic beverages. Channing Tatum's Tequila is first to greet them, and is understandably suspicious of this shadowy agency operating without their knowledge. There's also Whiskey (Pedro Pascal), and Merlin-equivalent tech genius Ginger Ale (Halle Berry). The bad guy this time around is Poppy (Julianne Moore), a Martha Stewart-like drug baron hiding out in Cambodia. Her master plan is to infect all users of her various drugs with a toxin that will soon cause their deaths unless the U.S. President puts an end to the War on Drugs. Poppy's outlandish plan, which would seem to damage Poppy's trade if successful or offer the President a chance to rid the world of drug abusers and Poppy's customers, is one of many problems with The Golden Circle. Armed with robot dogs and a kidnapped Elton John in an appearance that goes way beyond mere cameo, Vaughn and Goldman seem happy to suck out all sense of reality for this sequel, and with it have considerably lowered the stakes.

The movie's most glaring problem, however, is the return of Colin Firth's Harry Hart. Most of us were shocked and saddened when he received a bullet to the face from Samuel L. Jackson following the original's most spectacular scene, but to bring him back feels cheap, removing any sense of peril in the process. The action scenes, which involve everything from an electric whip to a man-chomping meat-grinder, rely heavily on CGI. The Secret Service did this too, but it also used practical effects to retain a sense of physicality when Harry was hacking, shooting and burning his way through a Church full of bigoted psychopaths. The newcomers all do well despite being left in the background for the majority of the running-time, with Tatum especially barely registering before he is placed into a coma. Highlights include Egerton's beautiful jaw-line and Strong's deadpan Merlin, but there is little resembling the freshness of the first film, which also managed to keep its outrageous ambitions in check by structuring the plot around Eggsy's Kingsman training. The Golden Circle is by no means the disaster many critics have cited, but by striding to take things to the next level, Vaughn has made Kingsman both cringe-inducingly silly and plain boring.


Directed by: Matthew Vaughn
Starring: Taron Egerton, Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, Mark Strong, Pedro Pascal, Halle Berry, Elton John, Channing Tatum, Jeff Bridges
Country: UK/USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,284: 'Detroit' (2017)

For her latest feature, following 2008's Oscar winner The Hurt Locker and 2012's Zero Dark Thirty, visionary director Kathryn Bigelow takes us to a different war-zone altogether, the 1967 Detroit riots. While it lacks the nerve-racking tension of the Iraq-set The Hurt Locker and the engrossing detail of the hunt for, capture and execution of Osama bin Laden in Zero Dark Thirty, Detroit lays bare police brutality and civil unrest with all the discomfort of a well-made horror movie, as the paths of various characters caught up in the chaos sweeping the city lead to the Algiers Motel, where many are about to experience the most traumatic experience of their lives, and for some, the last experience they will ever have.

Bigelow attempts to contextualise the central incident by depicting the roots of the rioting: An illegal blind pig in a black Detroit community is raided by predominantly white police, who take an unnecessarily heavy-handed approach to rounding up the bar's inhabitants. A small crowd quickly starts to gather outside, and soon enough the police are being driven out of the area, and neighbourhood shops are being destroyed and looted. Both the Army and National Guard are brought in to bring the troubles under control, while Detroit police hunt down any looters hoping to go unnoticed in the crowds. It's a good thirty minutes before we reach the Motel, and this time is spent establishing the various characters who will become major players later on. These characters are painted in broad strokes, but it's effective enough in establishing the kind of world they inhibit, and why they have good reason to fear the sight of a policeman, innocent or not.

At the film's heart is Melvin Dismukes (John Boyega), a security guard caught somewhere in between two worlds. He is a figure of authority and takes his job incredibly seriously, but he's also black in an institution made up of mainly white folks, so he finds himself also having to toe the line when dealing with officers clearly harbouring racist feelings. There's also Larry Reed (Algee Smith), the lead singer of R&B group The Dramatics, whose big-break concert is cancelled because of the riots. Larry takes his friend Fred Temple (Jacob Latimore) to the Algiers Motel to lay low while the riots calm down, and the two pass the time by chatting to two girls (played by Hannah Murray and Kaitlyn Dever). The girls are actually prostitutes, and the group wind up caught up in a prank involving firing a blank-shooting starter pistol at the police through the window. Believing to be under attack from a sniper, the police and National Guard storm the Motel and begin a night of humiliation and terror for those simply caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At the Motel, cop and baby-faced bigot Krauss (Will Poulter) starts to systematically strip away the humanity of the residents, using everything from intimidation, violence and mind-games to find the lethal weapon that doesn't exist. Flanked by Ben O'Toole and Jack Reynor, Poulter is magnificent, digging deep to somehow find a shred of humanity in a character so inherently evil. As is Boyega, who manages to hit you with a gut-punch during the final act as the seriousness of the situation - and his role in it - suddenly overwhelms him. The film goes on to detail the immediate aftermath and the subsequent trial of the three police officers, bringing in an unnerving slimy John Krasinski as the defence. At just shy of two and a half hours, Detroit feels overlong despite Bigelow's best efforts to keep the film moving at a pace. The final half hour could have been wrapped up in text, but it does pay testament to the survivors, some of whom were left with mental scars from which they would never fully recover. Detroit's real power stems from the harrowing, maddening centrepiece at the Algiers, a terrible abuse of power not terribly different from some of the news stories we still hear about today.


Directed by: Kathryn Bigelow
Starring: John Boyega, Will Poulter, Algee Smith, Jacob Latimore, Hannah Murray, Kaitlyn Dever, Ben O'Toole, Jack Reynor, Anthony Mackie, John Krasinski
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,283: 'Mother!' (2017)

Darren Aronofsky's Mother!, or mother! as it is often printed, has already generated more controversy than most movies can achieve in an entire lifetime. A fever-dream of chaos, violence and nightmarish imagery, Aronofsky's latest seems to provoke extreme reactions from both sides of the spectrum. After its premiere at the Venice Film Festival, the film received both a standing ovation and a chorus of boos. Whether you love it, hate it, or simply cannot make up your mind, Mother! will be successful at yanking a reaction out of you, be it repulsion, confusion or laughter. Yet the biggest shock is not the orgy of brutality at the climax or the religious undertones, but that a major studio would ever fund this at all. Paramount were apparently convinced when star Jennifer Lawrence signed on, but there is little here for fans of The Hunger Games, and not much more for those hoping for a straight-forward haunted house flick.

We open with a woman burning, before apparently jumping forward in time. The house in which the stranger met her demise has been repaired, and is currently being turned into a paradise by 'Mother' (Lawrence). She wants to shape the home into a place of tranquillity for her much older husband, 'Him' (Javier Bardem), an artistically-blocked famous poet who has failed to write any new material in over a year. Things seem peaceful, but something isn't quite right. The house is in the middle of nowhere, hidden away from civilisation, so Mother is shocked when a doctor - billed as 'Man' and played by Ed Harris - turns up at the door claiming to have mistook the house for a B & B. Mother wants to be left alone but Him seems eager for the company. It becomes clear than Man has no intention of leaving when his wife ('Woman', played by Michelle Pfeiffer) turns up at the door. She is obnoxious and rude, carrying a clanking glass and glazed eyes with her wherever she goes, and events start to spiral out of control when their bickering sons (played by Brian and Domhnall Gleeson) also show up.

Things seem to calm down when Mother becomes pregnant, and the couple withdraw into isolation once again. Fatherhood reawakens the artist in Him, and he soon has a new book published. But this only starts to attract more outsiders, which rapidly turns from a small crowd of book fans to a hoard of crazies, who start to systematically destroy the house. Think Gaspar Noe meets some of Ben Wheatley's more extreme works and you can start to grasp the tone of Mother!'s climax. It's a clusterfuck of unpleasantness and claustrophobia, like a house party crashed by Satan himself. Aronofsky makes sure that you're uncomfortable from the very get-go, with camerawork nearly always from point of view of Mother, or directly in her face. Classic horror elements also establish feelings of unease, such as a bleeding floorboard, a dingy basement with a bricked-up wall, and a strange instrument heard through the walls with the appearance of a beating heart. Aronofsky possibly thinks he setting the audience up for the nastiness about to be inflicted on the heroine, but nothing could have really prepared me for the last 40 minutes.

Mother! is one of only a few films I've really had to wrestle with. As I was watching, I felt disgusted, patronised, and in need of a good wash, and the end credits made me feel like I was exhaling for the very first time. As time passed, I could only admire the way in which Aronosky had forced such a physical reaction out of me, and the many ways in which the film can be read. Essentially it's a story of motherhood and creating a home for your family, but it also works as a religious parable, with certain characters clearly stand-ins for figures from the Bible. Most of all, this is an artist's reaction to terrifying reality of our times, with nuclear war, global warming and terrorism a constant threat, and dangerous, unpredictable leaders seated at the head of some of the most powerful countries in the world. The director himself stated that he woke up one morning and spilled out Mother! over the course of four days, and the film certainly reflects Aronofsky's urgent, scribbled approach. It's hard to recommend Mother!, but I would urge anybody to see it at least once. You may find it to be preposterous nonsense or a cathartic masterpiece, and you'd be right either way.


Directed by: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Javier Bardem, Ed Harris, Michelle Pfeiffer, Brian Gleeson, Domhnall Gleeson, Kristen Wiig
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,282: 'The Eyes of Tammy Faye' (2000)

The life of Tammy Faye Bakker Messner is one that could have only emerged from America: A life of fame, adoration and excess, and later, somewhat inevitably, of disgrace and notoriety. Armed with a face of make-up apparently applied by shotgun-blast and an unshakeable, endearing optimism, Tammy Faye was once of the most recognisable faces in America as the co-presenter of The PTL (Praise the Lord) Club, part of the Christian Broadcasting Network which she and husband Jim Bakker used to draw audiences in the millions. In 1987, when Jim was accused of raping Playboy model Jessica Hahn and sent to prison for defrauding his audience of millions of dollars, Tammy Faye stood by his side before they divorced a few years later.

She later found love in the man who helped build her ex-husband's Christian theme-park Heritage USA, before he was also banged up for tax fraud. Tammy Faye was diagnosed with colon cancer, before making a full, miraculous recovery, and developed a dangerous addiction to prescription medication. The point of Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato's documentary is that Tammy Faye is a survivor. It's a label often applied to strong women who have endured hardships. Jim J. Bullock, her co-host on The Jim J. and Tammy Faye Show, puts it best when he explains that after the holocaust, all that will remain are cockroaches, Tammy Faye, and Cher. She is a force of nature, her spirit never wavering even when bullying televangelist Jerry Falwell swiped PTL from underneath them, despite having spent most of her waking life in front of the camera with Jim and their two children.

With narration from RuPaul and the film's chapters introduced by hand-puppets in a style akin to Babe, The Eyes of Tammy Faye is clearly embracing the camp appeal of its subject. Her famous eyelashes and impressive set of lungs have made her a gay icon, but there are also old clips of Tammy Faye embracing the gay community and a man with AIDS, topics that were, back then, shunned by mainstream media, never mind the Christian media. It will surely disarm most viewers who go into the film with their noses turned up at Tammy Faye's passion for spreading the word of God, showing her to be a warm and charismatic figure who took an interest in and offered a voice to people from all walks of life. The documentary clearly believes that she is innocent of any wrongdoing in the crimes her ex-husband was convicted for, but it can be criticised for failing to investigate more. Still, this is a fitting tribute to an indomitable woman living a fascinating life. Tammy Faye Messner died in 2007.


Directed by: Fenton Bailey, Randy Barbato
Starring: Tammy Faye Bakker, RuPaul
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,281: 'Good Time' (2017)

Whether he likes it or not - and I suspect the latter - Robert Pattinson will always be synonymous with Edward Cullen, the sullen and handsome vampire with impressive hair from the Twilight series. He caught many people's attention with his brief appearance in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, but Twilight turned him into a global star and the subject of much adoration from screaming teenage girls. It's an image few actors hoping to be taken seriously wishes to be lumped with throughout their entire career, and Pattinson has been making a noticeable effort to distant himself from the teen idol image ever since 2012's Breaking Dawn - Part 2 with the likes of Cosmopolis and The Rover. Yet despite Pattinson's commendable performances, neither were particularly brilliant films. However, his latest, Benny and Josh Safdie's Good Time, is very good indeed.

Taking inspiration from journey-into-night films like Martin Scorsese's After Hours and sharing the urgent pace of the techno-thrillers of the 1990s, Good Time is a huge explosion of energy. Taking place over the course of an eventful and increasingly weird 24 hours, we open not with Pattinson's petty criminal Connie Nikas, but his mentally handicapped brother Nick (co-director Benny Safdie). Nick is undergoing a psychiatric evaluation, but is quickly pulled out of it by Connie, who takes no time to convince his impressionable brother to help him rob a bank. In the grand tradition of movie heists, the robbery goes wrong when the bag of money explodes red dye all over the brothers. Nick is caught but Connie escapes, and the former is sent to Riker's Island. With a mixture of street-smarts and pure desperation, Connie sets out to raise the bail money, and later - after Nick is placed in hospital following a violent attack - to break his brother out.

Good Time is an experience best enjoyed by simply going with the flow. Like Connie, the film feels like it doesn't know where it's going, and that's part of the thrill. Connie proves himself skillful at talking his way out of the increasingly dangerous situations he finds himself in, but proves completely inept at decision-making. His journey takes him from borrowing money from his sort-of girlfriend (played by Jennifer Jason Leigh), to an encounter with a mother and daughter, and later to a fairground to retrieve a bottle of acid worth $10,000, where an honest security guard played by Barkhad Abdi awaits him. The story occasionally gets away from the Safdie brothers, but things are quickly helped back on track by some jet-black humour, impressive supporting performances from Buddy Duress and newcomer Taliah Webster, and, at its very centre, Robert Pattinson, who pulls you into wanting to see the night out with him despite his character's utter loathsomeness. The title is supposed to be ironic, but Good Time is one of the most enjoyable experiences I've had this year.


Directed by: Benny Safdie, Josh Safdie
Starring: Robert Pattinson, Benny Safdie, Taliah Webster, Buddy Duress, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Barkhad Abdi
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,280: 'Dunkirk' (2017)

There are countless stories of courage and bravery that made their way out of World War II, but perhaps none more famous or as inspirational (at least to us British) as the story, or miracle, of the Dunkirk evacuation. Following the six-week long Battle of France, Allied forces found themselves holed up on the beaches of Dunkirk and surrounded by German forces. Over the course of eight days, over 300,000 troops were rescued by a hastily assembled civilian navy of fishing boats, yachts and lifeboats called into action from Britain. Although Churchill was quick to remind the people that "wars are not won by evacuations," the incident became a symbol of British stiff-upper lipped stoicism and a powerful propaganda tool.

Many movies have covered the event, from 1942's Mrs. Miniver to 2007's Atonement, as well as Leslie Norman's underrated 1958 film Dunkirk. But none have managed to capture the sheer horror of the situation these troops found themselves in as Christopher Nolan's latest, which is an out-and-out masterpiece of technical wizardry and raw, grinding sound design. Long a passion project for the director, Dunkirk drops you into the thick of the action from the get-go with the welcome assumption that audiences will enter the film with at least some prior knowledge, and doesn't let up until the very end of its relatively short 106 minute running-time with the constant ticking of what feels like an ever-present clock. Nolan is determined to put you through the wringer, and does so by placing you up close and personal with the men on land, at sea, and in the air.

The closest person we have to a leading character is Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young and resourceful grunt who stumbles onto the beach after evading the Germans. He quickly plots his escape by attempting to board a boat carrying a wounded soldier, and later teaming up with a young soldier played by Harry Styles (who is absolutely fine) as they try desperately to survive the growing carnage. At sea, proud mariner Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance) sets sail from Britain to rescue "our boys" and do his part in the war. Picking up a shell-shocked soldier played by Cillian Murphy on the way, Dawson must navigate oil-soaked waters with burning ships all around and avoid the German planes screaming in the sky. Battling the Luftwaffe in the air are Spitfire pilots Farrier (Tom Hardy) and Collins (Jack Lowden), the former having to carry out his duty without the aid of his fuel gauge.

These stories do not take place chronologically, a gimmick now something of a Nolan trademark. While this works wonders in a film like Memento, it adds an unnecessary layer of confusion to the unfolding narrative in Dunkirk, occasionally removing you from the action as you try and establish where we are in the story. With Nolan's decision to do away with any backstory to the characters - who are still fully realised and wonderfully performed - there's also a lack of emotional investment. Yet it could be argued that this approach only adds to the fog of war and the terrifying randomness of combat, and this is the most thrilling depiction of battle since 1998's Saving Private Ryan, only without the spatter and gore. Nolan also avoids flag-waving patriotism and finger-pointing, something that Spielberg's Oscar-winner failed to do. Although it's not the complete masterpiece many of us hoped for (although I suspect the majority will disagree), Dunkirk is one of Nolan's most accomplished and dazzling pieces of work. It may not move you, but it will leave you in awe.


Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Fionn Whitehead, Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy, Kenneth Branagh, Jack Lowden, Harry Styles, Tom Glynn-Carney, Cillian Murphy
Country: UK/Netherlands/France/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,279: 'Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* But Were Afraid to Ask' (1972)

Few anticipated the success of Dr. David Reuben's book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* But Were Afraid to Ask upon its publication in 1969. Nevertheless, it skyrocketed to the top of the book charts, arriving at a time when the sexual revolution was in full swing for the younger generation, and older couples were starting to feel more comfortable discussing the joys of sex and all the kinks that come with it. It seemed like a truly 'unadaptable' book, or at least one that never flirted with the idea of making it to the big screen. But that didn't stop Woody Allen, the young comedy writer and director still very much in his sillier, more slapstick stage of his career, who was fresh off the success of satirical spoof Bananas.

Structuring the film as a series of vignettes, each receiving its own opening title taken from the book's chapter headings, Allen gave himself free reign to toy with a variety of ideas and tones that were no doubt swimming around in his massive brain. As is the case with almost all portmanteau movies, some sections are great, others are forgettable, and the odd one is outright terrible. The final result is one staunchly defended by Allen die-hards, but for some of us this is one the comedy giant's weakest early movies. It opens promisingly enough with "Do Aphrodisiacs Work?", a sex farce set in medieval times with Allen as a court jester trying in earnest to get into the knickers of Lynn Redgrave's Queen. Fearing both the wrath of the King (Anthony Quayle) and having his advances spurned, he employs a potion that will make the Queen desire the first man she sees.

Not all the jokes land, but it's amusing enough, highlighting Allen's unique talent for playing the motor-mouthed neurotic and firing off double entendres. Other highlights include Gene Wilder as a doctor who falls in love a sheep belonging to an Albanian farmer, and a Fellini-inspired section in which Allen's character becomes obsessed with pleasing his wife. The worst involves John Carradine as a wacky researcher conducting a variety of outrageous sexual experiments, before he accidentally unleashes a giant milk-squirting breast into the countryside. The main problem, 45 years after its release, lies within the title. It could be down to the lasting effects of the sexual revolution or the abundance of hardcore porn now available to stream at any time, but people are no longer afraid to ask. Many of the topics covered in Everything You Always Wanted to Know... are now openly discussed on daytime TV, so the film feels more like a time capsule of a more innocent time than the boundary-pushing experiment it once was.


Directed by: Woody Allen
Starring: Woody Allen, John Carradine, Lou Jacobi, Louise Lasser, Anthony Quayle, Tony Randall, Lynn Redgrave, Burt Reynolds, Gene Wilder
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,278: 'Logan Lucky' (2017)

When Steven Soderbergh announced four years ago that he was giving up the director's gig to focus on TV, did anyone actually believe him? There was a cry of sadness from critics and audiences alike, but nothing about his announcement felt like it would last for very long. How could a man so prolific in recent years and as equally comfortable tackling a star-studded major release as he is with low-budget indies distract himself away from the temptation of the director's chair? As expected, Soderbergh is back for his first film since 2013's Behind the Candelabra, with a heist comedy described as Ocean's Eleven for the NASCAR crowd, and more amusingly, Ocean's 7-11. Logan Lucky doesn't find the director on unfamiliar ground, but it's a welcome reminder of how fine a storyteller he is.

The Logan family curse stretches back as far as the remaining members can recall, and things look to be heading downhill for Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum) when he is sacked from his construction job and informed by his ex-wife (Katie Holmes) that she plans to take their daughter and her new husband miles away to Lynchburg. Jimmy's brother Clyde (Adam Driver) has returned from Iraq minus an arm and a sense of humour, and only hairdresser sister Mellie (Riley Keough) appears to have dodged the curse. Enough is enough for the once-promising footballer Jimmy, who plans to end the curse once and for all by robbing the Charlotte Motor Speedway. Key to the success of the job is colourful safe-cracker Joe Bang (Daniel Craig), but he currently sits in jail five months away from his release. With a few tricks of his own up his sleeve - and a comprehensive list of dos and don'ts stuck to his fridge - Jimmy aims to break Joe out, pull off the heist, and return him to his cell before anyone notices he's gone.

With fantastic performances all round from a hugely talented cast and a witty, pacy script by Rebecca Blunt, Logan Lucky is one of the most effortlessly watchable movies of 2017. The film is predictably stolen by an off-the-leash Daniel Craig who, with a buzz-cut of peroxide-blonde hair and a drawl so ridiculous it actually works in favour of the character, seems happy to be free of the high-octane stunts and extensive promotion tours that come with the role of James Bond. There are also nice smaller turns from the likes of Katherine Waterston as a good-natured nurse and former schoolmate of Jimmy, Dwight Yoakam as a prison warden eager to avoid any bad publicity, Sebastian Stan as a disgruntled, yoga-freak NASCAR driver, and Hilary Swank as a shrewd FBI agent. There are bad performances too, namely from Joe's idiotic brothers (played by Brian Gleeson and Jack Quaid) who aren't nearly as funny as the film believes they are, and Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane donning a distracting English accent and even more distracting hair-and-moustache combo.

It's fun, breezy and confidant in all the ways Ocean's Eleven was, only here the characters are more dim-witted and less easy on the eye. It's happy to dabble in the kind of stereotype dreamt up by outsiders, and while this helps with the appeal of Craig's larger-than-life lunatic, it also means that much of the comedy is derived from people saying and doing stupid things. Every now and then however, Soderbergh reminds us why he has been so missed, even when he's dishing out mid-table fare like Logan Lucky. Few directors can bring a heist to life with such detail and excitement - he doesn't let you in on the plan, so we have no idea just how this will pan out - and even fewer could make the site of a prosthetic arm being sucked up into a huge vacuum quite so hilarious. But the movie's high-point comes when Jimmy arrives at the last minute to witness his daughter sing John Denver's 'Take Me Home, Country Roads' to an enamoured pageant audience, and heart-strings are unexpectedly tugged. It's a shame that more of the movie can't quite live up to that scene's standards and helped to gloss over the other flaws, but for now it's certainly a "welcome back, Steven Soderbergh."


Directed by: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Daniel Craig, Riley Keough, Seth MacFarlane, Katherine Waterston, Hilary Swank, Dwight Yoakam, Katie Holmes
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,277: 'True Story' (2015)

Based on the memoir of the same name by shamed ex-journalist Michael Finkel, Rupert Goold's True Story is a story of amazing coincidence and unexpected friendship, as two unrelated men from completely different backgrounds find their destinies intertwined. At its heart, this is a true-crime drama that flew under many people's radars, which is surprising given how audience interest in shocking tales of murder and the subsequent trials have been piqued by Netflix's many terrific documentaries. Yet the crime itself, which occurs before the film begins, isn't the main focus of True Story. Instead, we get a character piece centred on a busted writer who believes he has been given a second chance, and a man awaiting trial for the murder of his wife and three children.

The film begins with Finkel (played by Jonah Hill) in Africa, interviewing various victims of modern-day slavery. He is seen as a future Pulitzer recipient by his bosses at the New York Times, and has seen many of his previous pieces grace the front page. He is soon brought back down to Earth when his editors confront him about creating a composite character for his latest story, and is soon fired. Other papers want nothing to do with him, so when he learns that a man wanted for murder named Christian Longo (James Franco) has been using his name before finally being arrested, he sees it as his opportunity to drag his name out of the mud. A fan of Finkel's work, Longo grants him exclusive rights to the story, and in return Finkel will teach him out to write, and promise not to publish anything until after the trial. The two become friends, with Finkel going so far as believing they are some kind of kindred spirits.

A lot of time is spent with the two characters simply talking in a room, and it's a nice surprise that theatre director Goold manages to avoid a stagey feel. But what goes down within the prison's visiting room fails to convince as one would expect from such seasoned actors. Franco puts his half-closed eyes and charming smile to good use, but you rarely get the sense that Hill is a writer capable of reaching the dizzy heights of wunderkind status at the New York Times, and he always feels two or three steps behind. As Finkel's wife, Felicity Jones is given little to do at first but gaze at her husband with concern as he pours over documents and Longo's extensive letters, before she locks horns with the slippery inmate himself. Yet these later dramatic scenes seem inserted to add unnecessary emotional drive, or to give the talented actress something to do. Nevertheless, this is an engaging retelling of a fascinating true story which sizzles with tension until the very end. Unless you already know the outcome of course.


Directed by: Rupert Goold
Starring: Jonah Hill, James Franco, Felicity Jones, Ethan Suplee, Robert John Burke
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,276: 'Cars 3' (2017)

From a purely merchandising point of view, Pixar's Cars franchise is nothing short of a masterstroke. Even if the films, spin-offs, and straight-to-DVD shorts aren't up to scratch - and they aren't - children will be sure to ask mummy and daddy for the latest sleek toy, no matter how obscure the character. In response, the Cars movies have added numerous forgettable new characters with each film, adding to their extensive range of collectables in the process. It's a cynical approach, but merchandise has always been Disney's bread-and-butter in their quest to seemingly own everything. As a result, Cars 2 was a huge disappointment; a half-arsed sequel to a movie that had already left many underwhelmed, which took the central story off on a random tangent and promoted the annoying sidekick to the central hero. Still, it made lots of money, so a trilogy-closer was inevitable.

Thankfully, Pixar and director Brian Fee have scrapped the spy thriller angle altogether, and relegated buck-toothed tow truck Mater (Larry the Cable Guy) back to the role of comic relief dished out in small doses. The focus is back on Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and his antics on the race track, so Cars 3 is, if anything, a massive improvement on its predecessor. McQueen is now in the twilight of his career; a seven-time Piston Cup champion and bona fide racing legend, enjoying the on-track banter with his closest rivals. However, he is given a wake-up call when newcomer Jackson Storm (Armie Hammer), employing a fancy chassis, the latest in car technology, and an extensive knowledge of statistics, beats McQueen easily. Soon enough, his fellow veterans start retiring in droves, and those who don't are quickly laid off by their sponsors to make way for the new guys hot off the assembly line (or are they born?).

It's a bland and uninspiring story of the new out-muscling the old, but there are still things to enjoy in Cars 3. They've finally enlisted a female racer in the form of energetic personal trainer Cruz Ramirez (Cristela Alonzo), who treats McQueen like a car ready to fall apart at any second, and it also offers a fitting resolution to Doc's story, who was splendidly voiced by Paul Newman before he sadly passed, as McQueen seeks out a new mentor. Yet, the beautiful and detailed animation, combined with the welcome return to the grit of the race track, cannot save Cars 3 from mediocrity. It's essentially an existential exploration of midlife crisis, chocked full of childish humour and wrapped up in a sports movie formula, so it's difficult to work out just who the target audience is. It wisely makes a point of dodging genre cliches with an interesting climax, but the lack of character investment (McQueen has always been the blandest of Pixar's heroes) means that this doesn't pay off as well as it should. Like its racers, the Cars franchise seems to be stuck in an eternal loop without anywhere to go.


Directed by: Brian Fee
Voices: Owen Wilson, Cristela Alonzo, Chris Cooper, Nathan Fillion, Larry the Cable Guy, Armie Hammer, Tony Shalhoub, Bonnie Hunt
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,275: 'Buffalo Bill and the Indians, or Sitting Bull's History Lesson' (1976)

Depending on which scholar of Robert Altman's sizeable body of work you read, Buffalo Bill and The Indians, or Sitting Bull's History Lesson represents either the end of the auteur's successful early career, during which he made the likes of M.A.S.H., McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Long Goodbye and Nashville, or the first in his line of smaller, 'misunderstood' movies that produced the likes of 3 Women, Quintet and HealtH. Whatever your viewpoint, Buffalo Bill certainly stands out as one of the black sheep of his filmography; a film ultimately made in the wrong place at the wrong time. Altman, always the satirical magician, was no doubt fully aware that debunking a famous American myth now so dangerously taken as truth during the country's bicentennial celebrations wouldn't go down particularly well with an audience feeling particularly patriotic, and would likely hit a nerve.

Sadly for Altman, few nerves would be reached as audiences stayed away in droves. It was his first major flop, and was hardly helped by such an outrageous title that contained the term 'History Lesson'. Even Paul Newman, a bankable Hollywood star, couldn't help matters, and the film still hasn't been offered the chance of re-discovery and re-evaluation it certainly deserves. Just like the brilliant McCabe & Mrs. Miller turned the western myth into the founding of American capitalism, Buffalo Bill is another revisionist western, focusing on how the hard men of the Wild West with blood on their hands were turned into folk heroes, battling the feral, bloodthirsty natives and winning the war for the New World. The sideshow announcer's voice blares over the opening credits, as Altman declares his awareness of his own role in myth-making, and that of the film itself. We are in Buffalo Bill's Wild West, a hugely popular attraction that re-enacted famous stories from recent American 'history', and offered the audience the chance to see one of its most famous figures, Buffalo Bill Cody himself.

Based on the controversial play Indians by Arthur Kopit, Altman uses the side-show to employ his most famous traits. There's a large ensemble cast featuring the likes of Geraldine Chaplin, Joel Grey, Kevin McCarthy, Harvey Keitel and Robert DoQui, overlapping dialogue, long zooms, and dialogue laced with satirical bite. Bill is portrayed as a bit of a lout, dispensing of opera singer bed-mates as soon as a new one arrives, employing a wig to hide his advancing years, and outright lying about his skills with a gun. The arrival of Sitting Bull (Frank Kaquitts) holds up a mirror to his boasts, and that of America's bloodstained history. Newman is great, and Bill's apparent cartoonishness seems fitting with the movie's hints that he may in fact be a complete fabrication conjured up by the motor-mouthed Ned Buntline (Burt Lancaster), who frequents the nearby bars boasting of his role in the founding of the country. It's confused and often flounders under the weight of its own ambition, but nevertheless this is always fascinating stuff. It isn't difficult to see why Buffalo Bill and the Indians turned off audiences back in 1976, but its exploration of the dangers of myth-making and twisting the truth are more relevant than ever in these times of social media and 'fake news'.


Directed by: Robert Altman
Starring: Paul Newman, Joel Grey, Kevin McCarthy, Harvey Keitel, Geraldine Chaplin, John Considine, Frank Kaquitts, Will Sampson, Burt Lancaster
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,274: 'Cartel Land' (2015)

The invention of small and easy-to-use digital cameras has had a massive impact on the documentary genre, with film-makers now able to throw themselves into the thick of the action without the worry of having to lumber around an arsenal of bulky and heavy equipment with an extensive crew. Matthew Heineman uses this new weapon to devastating effect in Cartel Land, closely tailing murderous members of the Knights Templar Cartel in Mexico while playing ride along with a vigilante group calling themselves Autodefensas. Heineman clearly possesses balls of steel, as we find ourselves witnessing first-hand explosive gun-fights in the streets and close-up vigilante beatings, all the result of society's reaction to living in fear of cartel violence. It's a scary portrait of a country seemingly locked in a cycle of corruption and brutality, and how its influence has spilled over to the borders of the U.S..

There are two stories in Cartel Land, with one understandably receiving more focus and screen-time than the other. In Michoacan, Mexico, surgeon and public speaker Jose Manuel Mireles - known as 'El Doctor' - has formed the Autodefensas, a group of citizens who have lived under the cartel's tyranny for too long. They move from town to town, successfully driving out the gang members and receiving the adoration and support of the residents in the process. The government has labelled them a dangerous vigilante organisation operating outside of the law, but in one scene they manage to drive away the military with the backing of fellow citizens as their power and influence rapidly increases. In the U.S., Tim 'Nailer' Foley heads the Arizona Border Retcon, another vigilante group with the task of stopping illegal immigration. As cartel violence spilled into their towns, their job became significantly more difficult, hampered further by the government's inability or unwillingness to help.

Despite your personal views on vigilante justice, Cartel Land begins with painting both Mireles and Foley as men with good intentions. They both live in a lawless land where the government have either abandoned them or actually contributed to the growing issues. Yet their actions also have consequences. Mireles' 'Robin Hood' persona soon starts to peel away with suggestions of infidelity and a ballooning ego, and the solidarity of the Autodefensas starts to wobble as in-group power plays and cartel infiltration emerge. The goals of Foley and the Border Retcon attract the most right-wing nutcases with questionable motives, and although he is happy for the help, it has led to the group being labelled an extremist organisation. There is an imbalance to the amount of screen-time given to these parallel stories, but Cartel Land succeeds as an honest and eye-opening account of how people can rally together when their supposed protectors have abandoned them, but also how vigilante justice amidst widespread corruption can have devastating consequences.


Directed by: Matthew Heineman
Starring: José Manuel 'El Doctor' Mireles, Tim 'Nailer' Foley
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,273: 'The Year Of Living Dangerously' (1982)

Peter Weir's The Year of Living Dangerously is now an Australian classic and, along with the likes of Panic at Hanging Rock and Gallipoli, helped establish Weir as a film-maker to watch our for and eased his inevitable transition to Hollywood. Living Dangerously may now be a more obviously flawed film in 2017 than it was back in '82, but it still retains a sense of raw power stemming from an uncanny sense of place and danger. The setting is Indonesia, 1965, and President Sukarno's grasp on power is quickly fading. It's the eve of his overthrowing by the military and the communist purge that quickly followed, and journalists in Jakarta huddle in sweaty bars, feeding on scraps thrown to them by Sukarno, knocking back beers and chasing tail to pass the time.

The last guy left in a hurry, so young Australian foreign correspondent Guy Hamilton (Mel Gibson) arrives in Jakarta without a single informant or friend to lean on. The diplomats and fellow journalists who inhabit the same bar every night take no pity on him, but sympathetic Chinese-Australian dwarf named Billy Kwan sees something in the handsome, chain-smoking young man and decides to help him. Kwan believes strongly in Sukarno, the President his own people has dubbed the 'Puppet Master' due to his ability to keep the peace between the Communist Party and the military, and that he will save his poverty-stricken people from starvation. As well as setting up a key interview for the young journalist, he also introduces Hamilton to Jill Bryant (Sigourney Weaver), a beautiful assistant working for the British embassy. As the conflict heats up and the stories become juicier and more perilous, Hamilton must choose between his job, his lover and his close friend.

The flaws of The Year of Living Dangerously are more apparent now, 35 years after its release, as the idea of cinema's tendency to 'whitewash' is now more openly discussed. It becomes clear very quickly that the most interesting character in the film is Billy Kwan. He has a much more personal attachment to the events playing out, and proves a more charismatic screen presence than Gibson's blander outsider. He is also played astonishingly well by Linda Hunt, the only actor to win an Academy Award for the playing a character of the opposite sex. When Kwan retreats into the background around the half-way mark, the focus shifts to the blossoming romance between Hamilton and Bryant, and the film becomes far less interesting in the process. However, there are some terrific individual scenes. The initial excitement of shooting a violent protest quickly gets out of hand, and a horrifyingly tense slow-drive through a heavily-armed road-block will leave you holding your breath. Yet it's difficult to shake the feeling that Weir's movie would have been far more absorbing with Kwan as the driving force at its centre.


Directed by: Peter Weir
Starring: Mel Gibson, Sigourney Weaver, Linda Hunt, Bill Kerr, Michael Murphy
Country: Australia/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,272: 'A Ghost Story' (2017)

The premise of David Lowery's A Ghost Story is very simple indeed. A man (played by Casey Affleck) dies in a car crash, only for his spirit to remain in the land of the living to watch over his grieving widow (played by Rooney Mara). He stays with her in the home they made together - a home, we will come to learn, that she wanted to leave, despite his wish to remain in the quiet, isolated area he felt so comfortable in. It sounds like the stuff of emotionally manipulative Hollywood schmaltz, but Lowery's interests stretch much, much further than themes of sorrow and the search for closure. It reaches way into the cosmos, seeking to understand our place in the universe and within the infinity of time itself.

One of the most striking aspects of A Ghost Story is the appearance of the ghost itself. Draped in a white sheet complete with cut-out eye holes, Affleck drifts through the film with slow steps, longing stares and brief fits of rage. As his lifeless body lies on the mortuary table, the camera lingers for what seems like an eternity, as we wait for the jump-shock that horror movies have taught us to expect. However, when he sits up slowly, sheet still draped over his face, and begins to study his surroundings like a lost animal, the effect is miraculous. It's certainly chilling, but also oddly beautiful. I don't know if much thought went into the design and weight of the white sheet, but Affleck manages to express himself astonishingly well without the benefit of being visible. Things start to get weirder and more ambitious as Mara's character moves out of the house to move on with her life.

We witness the passing of time from the ghost's perspective. In the blink of an eye, a Hispanic family has moved in. This enrages him, and the family experience poltergeist activity. Then, some party-goers inhabit the house, before it is eventually knocked down and replaced by office buildings. Still the ghost stalks the corridors waiting for... something, occasionally conversing with the ghost next door. Time passes like half-remembered memories, and we eventually come full circle. Made quickly and cheaply shortly after post-production for Pete's Dragon had been completed and reuniting Lowery with his Ain't Them Bodies Saints stars, the slow and deliberate pace of A Ghost Story will likely put many viewers off, especially those seeking out a traditional spook tale. But patience is a virtue, and the effects are long-standing, resonating far deeper than most movies could ever dream of. 


Directed by: David Lowery
Starring: Casey Affleck, Rooney Mara
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie