Review #1,383: 'Central Intelligence' (2016)

The buddy-action-comedy movie was born in the cocaine-pumped 1980s, and should have been put to rest for good when they stopped being funny around the time Lethal Weapon 4 was released in 1998. But when you take two bankable stars and place them together side-by-side, studios cannot resist the pull of the buddy movie. What they don't realise however, is that the sub-genre is very tricky indeed, and the only good example in recent years that springs immediately to mind was helmed by the guy who really kicked the whole thing off - Shane Black's The Nice Guys. I'm sure there are others, but these films are mainly lazily-written and clumsily-plotted, mainly because it's easy to make money from them as long as you have two likeable stars to splash across the poster. Central Intelligence is one such movie that leans too heavily on the charisma of its leads - Kevin Hart and Dwayne Johnson - failing to make the most of what is actually an intriguing premise.

Back in high school, Calvin Joyner (Hart) was an all-star athlete, homecoming king, and all-round decent fella. Fast forward twenty years and he is working as a forensic accountant, watching the youngster he once schooled get promoted above him and having it all rubbed in his face by the obligatory office douchebag. Out of the blue, he is contacted via Facebook by somebody named Bob Stone, and Calvin curiously accepts his friend request. Bob turns out to be Robbie Weirdicht (Johnson), the once-chubby kid who was humiliated in high school when he was thrown buck-naked into an assembly hall during Calvin's honorary speech. Robbie, however, has grown up to be The Rock and is now tall, muscular and confident, although he is still goofy. He loves unicorns and fanny packs, and worships Calvin ever since the most popular guy in school was the only one to feel sympathy for Robbie by handing him his sports jacket to cover up. They meet for drinks and have a good time, but when the CIA come knocking on Calvin's door the next day, it becomes clear that Bob isn't everything he appeared to be, and may in fact want Calvin's help with tracking down a shadowy criminal known as the Black Badger.

There are some darker, more interesting paths director Rawson Marshall Thurber (Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, We're the Millers) could choose to explore here, but Central Intelligence turns out to be the very definition of formulaic. It actually stars off well, with Hart and Johnson proving to be a highly watchable pair who share great chemistry, and both actors playing against type. When the shaky, poorly choreographed action sequences kick off, they fall back into familiar routines, with Johnson effortlessly disposing of bad guys and Hart shrieking as chaos ensues around him. The comedy becomes uncomfortably forced, and proves that improvisation isn't as easy to direct as Hollywood seems to believe it to be. Someone like Larry Charles or Adam McKay would have likely made much more out of this, but in Thurber's hands the tone shifts wildly, and the actors' energy levels change vastly from one scene to the next. The likes of Amy Ryan and Jason Bateman are wasted in forgettable roles, and as soon as you see who plays Bob's former partner via flashback (there's a sub-plot questioning Bob's mental stability and ultimate goal), you'll likely unravel what little mystery the film flirts with. Hart and Johnson won't be harmed by this, as they simply aren't the problem here. The problem is the flat direction, tiresome plot and unforgivably boring action scenes.


Directed by: Rawson Marshall Thurber
Starring: Kevin Hart, Dwayne Johnson, Amy Ryan, Danielle Nicolet, Jason Bateman, Aaron Paul
Country: USA/China

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,035: 'Triple 9' (2016)

Boasting an enormously talented ensemble cast and a multi-layered story of corruption and greed set in the murky criminal world of the Russian mafia in Atlanta, John Hillcoat's Triple 9 has the ambition of Michael Mann's Heat (1995) but neither the scope or the running-time to convincingly pull it off. Telling the tale of a gang of hardened criminals and bent coppers coming together to pull of a heist, and then another, to save the skin of a brutal Russian mafia boss, it is hardly the most original entry into the crime genre, but manages to sneak a pass thanks to some splendid visuals and Hillcoat's signature brutality that gives the film a unique, raw edge.

Two cops - Marcus Belmont (Anthony Mackie) and Franco Rodriguez (Clifton Collins Jr.) - and three criminals - gang leader Michael Atwood (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and brothers Russell (Norman Reedus) and Gabe Welch (Aaron Paul) - come together to rob a bank in order to retrieve a security deposit box containing evidence against the husband of mafia boss Irina (Kate Winslet). After a narrow escape, they are refused payment and are ordered to pull off another job to again retrieve data on Irina's husband. The job is near-impossible, so the gang come up with an idea of triggering a 'triple 9' call, which involves all police responding to an 'officer down' and heading to the location of the incident, therefore diverting all attention away from them. Marcus's new partner Chris Allen (Casey Affleck), a bullheaded new recruit quickly making enemies with the Mexican gangs, is chosen as the ideal candidate.

There's an undeniable star power to Triple 9, and the film struggles to allow them all the chance to shine. Because of the lack of running time required to properly develop the many characters, they are either painted with incredibly broad strokes or so thinly that they are relegated to merely 'tough good guy' or 'tough bad guy'. Weaving in and out of the main set the central story is crack-snorting Detective Jeffrey Allen (Woody Harrelson), the hard-nosed yet likeable sergeant investigating the gang, who also happens to be Chris' uncle. Just in case his questionable drug habit isn't enough, the camera insists on showing us every bead of sweat running down his unwashed brow to reinforce the idea that this really is a tough guy who doesn't play by the rules. Triple 9 is sadly chocked full of tired genre cliches, right down to the tacky dress-sense of Winslet's Russian gangster, all big hair and garish outfits.

Despite the immense talent of its actors, lazy writing and too much time spent watching these characters flexing their muscles at each other means that none really make an impression. Ejiofor certainly tries, but he fails to make us sympathise with his character, who is supposed to be the conflicted emotional core of the film, and Paul repeats his Jesse Pinkman shtick without the benefit of 5 seasons worth of character development. Things lighten up when a few heated exchanges simmer with tension, as Hillcoat makes it clear from the outset that no character is safe. With his best films, The Proposition (2005) and The Road (2009), Hillcoat demonstrated a real talent forging an extremely dark mood, brimming with atmosphere and lurking threat, but here, he manages it only fleetingly, finding little time to do so amidst an overstuffed plot.


Directed by: John Hillcoat
Starring: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Casey Affleck, Anthony Mackie, Woody Harrelson, Clifton Collins Jr., Kate Winslet, Aaron Paul, Norman Reedus, Gal Gadot
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #865: 'Exodus: Gods and Kings' (2014)

There is a moment during the climax of Ridley Scott's latest epic where your mind will drift to the image of a bearded Charlton Heston waving his giant staff and parting the Red Sea in Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1956). Exodus: Gods and Kings tells the story of Moses and Ramses, the familiar Old Testament tale about two former brothers-in-arms fighting on opposite sides of the battle; the former for the Hebrews, long enslaved by the ruling Egyptians, and the latter recently becoming the new Pharaoh in the wake of his father's death. It's the type of story that - even if the build-up lacks dramatics - is destined to be spectacular at the climax, as if there's on thing we do well in the modern age, it's spectacle.

Yet Exodus is an alarmingly bland and stuttering attempt to paint a revisionist's view of an age-old tale, resulting in a mixture of Ben-Hur (1959) and Gladiator (2000) without the scope or entertainment factor. Even Christian Bale, an actor usually of such ferocious intensity, fails to squeeze any dimensions out of Moses, and invites little sympathy during his darkest hours. Scott teases us with his own atheistic views, portraying Moses as a troubled man with possible schizophrenia, an idea which, if fully developed, would have justified this film's existence as a revisionist piece. His personality disorder manifests itself as a mediocre British child actor playing an angry God while Moses skulks on a mountain top, but outside of these moments he is little more than the archetypal command-blaring, sword-waving hero who delivers speeches and observes his men during training montages.

The only one appearing to be having any fun at all is Joel Edgerton, the Aussie actor playing the shaven-headed, bronzed-up Egyptian Pharaoh. Though he is kept at a disappointing distance, he at least manages to bring a little swagger to his performance, regardless of how utterly ridiculous he looks. The bulk of the rest of the cast are also played by Anglo's, all either frustratingly underused or comically miscast (or both). The likes of Sigourney Weaver, John Turturro, Ben Mendelsohn, and every director's favourite go-to ethnic actor Ben Kingsley come and go, making little impact and offering no explanation as to why such familiar faces are required to fill such a role. Aaron Paul no doubt gets the worst deal. His Joshua gets the most screen time outside of Moses and Ramses but does little more than watch in confusion or awe at his leader, depending on how the script wants you to feel at that moment.

As a cinematic spectacle, Scott does manage to occasionally enthral. The early battle scene, which has Moses and Ramses charging as comrades, plays like a check-list of war cliches, and you would find better sword-clanking on TV with Game of Thrones. The ten plagues set-piece is extremely CGI-heavy, but the sweeping shots of the city running red with blood and infested with locusts and disease proves to be a beautiful sight, with Scott determined to offer a rational explanation to the events rather than it being the work of a vengeful God (though the jury is still out with the first-born deaths). This idea wouldn't be such a hindrance if Scott didn't make the rest of the film such a formulaic blockbuster and took the time to go deep into the psyche of Moses and his struggles with his belief in a God he sees as barbaric. But Exodus is neither revisionist piece nor a straight-forward Biblical epic, which is why I found myself longing for the simplicity of DeMille's vision, for at least you know where you stand.


Directed by: Ridley Scott
Starring: Christian Bale, Joel Edgerton, Aaron Paul, John Turturro, Ben Mendelsohn, Ben Kingsley, Sigourney Weaver
Country: UK/USA/Spain

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie