Whenever a director needs to lend a computer-generated character a much-needed dramatic weight and dimension, Andy Serkis is all but guaranteed to be at the top of anybody's list. The actor took the breath away as Gollum in The Lord of the Rings and again as the magnetic Caesar in the rebooted Planet of the Apes trilogy. So it makes perfect sense that his directorial debut would be motion-capture heavy, with the master himself playing one of the CGI characters. Adapting Rudyard Kipling's novel The Jungle Book has long been a passion project for Serkis, and the film, which was originally entitled Jungle Book: Origins, was scheduled for a 2016 release and set to compete against Disney's own remake of their 1967 classic. To allow more time to work on the special effects, the release date was pushed back to 2017, and then to 2018. As Warner Bros. seemingly became concerned at the idea of a potential box-office bomb, the distribution rights were eventually sold to Netflix.
This transition to the small screen works both for and against Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle. Although he has voiced his delight at Netflix acquiring his film, it's difficult to believe that Serkis wasn't disappointed that such a personal project wouldn't be seen on the big screen. On the other hand, this has allowed for a much darker tone, and thus bringing it closer to Kipling's original text, without any concern for classification. It's a 12A on Netflix, but I feel the censors may have requested some cuts for a cinema release, and probably rightfully so. This doesn't feature any song-and-dance numbers or King Louie, and the once-cuddly Baloo the sloth bear is now a scarred brute with a Cockney accent. The story is familiar enough, with an orphan boy being left to die in the jungle before being carried to safety by the wise black panther Bageera (voiced by Christian Bale). A wolf pack takes him in, and the boy grows up to be Mowgli (Rohan Chand), only the wolves are never quite convinced of his importance and the man-cub struggles to find his place.
All is relatively happy until the fearsome, man-killing Bengal tiger Shere Khan (Benedict Cumberbatch) arrives to kill Mowgli, who he feels threatens the very jungle itself. Cumberbatch is far more terrifying than Idris Elba's incarnation, and the effects work is rather astonishing. This level of quality is not maintained however, as for every jaw-dropping close-up of Bageera's face, there is a wolf that looks bizarrely unfinished. And this unevenness runs throughout the film, not only with the special effects, but also with the tone. Serkis' attempt to deliver a different take on the story is admirable and warranted, but the darkness occasionally veers into outright horror. The climax of the film is shockingly brutal when compared to the lighter moments before, and the fate of one of Mowgli's close friends is one of the most disturbing things I've seen for a very a long time. It's undeniably jarring, and will likely scar any unsuspecting children watching for life. While Serkis may struggle to find the perfect balance, it's a bold piece of work by a thoroughly underappreciated actor that at least strives to grasp the deeper themes within the story.
Ever since that post-credits teaser at the end of the The Avengers, now 6 years ago, fan anticipation has been building for the arrival of Earth's Mightiest Heroes' deadliest foe, the giant purple 'Mad Titan', Thanos. With a tease here and a fleeting appearance there, Thanos' quest to gather all of the Marvel Cinematic Universe's McGuffins, the Infinity Stones, represents the culmination of 10 years of universe-building, during which Marvel Studios have emerged from a risk-taking independent studio looking to achieve something no other studio has before in terms of story-telling scale, to one of Disney's most reliably bankable divisions, regularly raking in over $1 billion, something that was achieved mere months ago with Black Panther, a cultural phenomenon if ever there was one.
After 18 movies, Avengers: Infinity War is finally here, and in the safe hands of sibling directors Joe and Anthony Russo. The brothers were responsible for two of the MCU's finest films, the Captain America entries The Winter Soldier and Civil War, and have taken on this seemingly impossible task to bring in dozens of huge characters with a sure and steady hand. Infinity War really is everything you would want it to be. While the tone sometimes shifts uneasily between dark and humorous, and character development isn't on the same level as their previous efforts, the Russo's deft balancing of our heroes' path-crossings with introducing the most formidable foe the universe has to offer, is nothing short of astonishing. It has the power to make you punch the air, laugh-out-loud, and pretend to have something in your eye.
The story picks up almost immediately after the events of Thor: Ragnarok, with Thanos (Josh Brolin) already in possession of the Power Stone, and seeking the Space Stone from Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston). Back on Earth, Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Wong (Benedict Wong) receive a warning of Thanos' pending arrival from Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo), and the Master of the Mystic Arts quickly recruits Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) for help, with Spider-Man (Tom Holland) in tow. In Edinburgh, the romantically-involved Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) and Vision (Paul Bettany) are laying low, but are soon set upon by two of the Black Order, a four-strong band of henchman consisting of Thanos' 'children'. The heroes are eventually assisted by Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Falcon (Anthony Mackie), who decide the safest place for Vision, who possesses the Mind Stone in his head, is Wakanda, the technically-advanced African nation ruled by Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman).
While it's certainly a thrill to see some of these characters interact for the first time (Stark and Strange's instant dislike for one another is particularly memorable). Infinity War brings the Guardians of the Galaxy into the fold for the first time. Answering an Asgardian distress call, Star-Lord (Chris Pratt), Gamora (Zoe Saldana), Drax (Dave Bautista), Rocket (Bradley Cooper) and Groot (Vin Diesel) bump (literally) into Thor. Watching some of the MCU's most comedically-gifted performers together for the first time is a real joy, with the Russos further developing Thor as one of the universe's most compelling and charismatic characters after Taiki Waititi gave him a new lease of life last year. Throw in the likes of Bucky (Sebastian Stan), War Machine (Don Cheadle), Nebula (Karen Gillan), Mantis (Pom Klementieff), Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), Okoye (Danai Gurira) and Shuri (Letitia Wright), and you have one hell of a packed cast.
Not every character is given the attention you would expect. Both Cap and Black Panther, two fan-favourites, are oddly sidelined, while the likes of Dr. Strange and Gamora have larger roles, although the Russos have stated that this will be counter-balanced in the as of yet untitled fourth instalment. While our heroes jostle for screen-time, our protagonist emerges as Thanos himself. Standing eight-feet tall and with - as Star-Lord puts it - a chin like a nutsack, we witness his deadly quest to balance out the universe through the Titan's eyes. Every villain is a hero in their own mind, and there is logic to his mission. Ever since Ultron underwhelmed, Marvel have been knocking out of the park with their bad guys, and Thanos is their most fascinating yet. He is terrifying and utterly brutal, but also misguided and tragic. The CGI is near-flawless, but nevertheless it is Josh Brolin you witness delivering one of the best performances of his career. With 6 years of build-up, the Russos make sure you understand that Thanos isn't fucking around within the opening minutes.
For years studios have insisted on 'grounding' comic-book stories, fearing to venture out into space and terrified of embracing the colourful, weirder aspects of the medium. Infinity War goes some way to disprove the idea of translating page to screen requires vast reconstruction. As a piece of story-telling, the movie barely pauses for breath, instead opting for what can be summed up as a two-and-a-half-hour superhero splash panel. But this has had ten years of build-up, with obscure D-list characters breaking out along the way and earning the adoration of millions of new fans in the process. This is one for the fans, for those who were there for that post-credit teaser in 2008 when Samuel L. Jackson's Nick Fury appeared and first uttered the word 'Avengers' to a fresh-faced Tony Stark. Although this was advertised as something of a closure to Marvel's first ten years, it really isn't. Infinity War ends on a note that guarantees you will there on opening day when part four finally comes around.
While the focus for the Marvel Cinematic Universe of late has been on sequels and superhero mash-ups, producer Kevin Feige and his team are more than aware of the heavy roster of iconic crime-fighters which have yet to grace the screen and who fans are crying out to see. Yet they are also clearly wary of the trappings of the origin story; the obligatory introductory movie which must cover how the hero came to be and have him face-off with a bad guy in order to establish their ass-kicking prowess. This was cleverly side-stepped in Captain America: Civil War earlier this year, with Tom Holland's Spider-Man and Chadwick Boseman's Black Panther both being eased into the universe in somebody else's movie.
But there is one cult favourite that hadn't been given the modern-day treatment by Disney and Marvel Studios, and one who hasn't graced our screens since the unintentionally hilarious 1978 TV movie starring Peter Hotten. Doctor Strange, originally created by a true unsung hero of the comic-book world, Steve Ditko, was a counter-culture favourite in the 1960's for its psychedelic imagery and Eastern mysticism, particularly popular amongst students and Pink Floyd, with the latter incorporating one of Strange's trippy panels onto the cover of their A Saucerful of Secrets album. Strange is probably the most awkward character for Marvel to bring to a mainstream audience, but Marvel don't seem put off by a challenge, especially after they somehow turned five obscure space-travellers into one of their best and most successful movies with Guardians of the Galaxy (2014).
Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a world-renowned neurosurgeon enjoying the life of fast cars, expensive watches and an astronomical ego. After a car accident leaves him with mangled hands and the inability to operate, he pushes away his on-off girlfriend Christine (Rachel McAdams) and heads to Kathmandu in search of a cure. There he finds The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton), who opens Strange's eyes to magic and the astral plane, and a group sworn to protect the planet from mystical threats. With defected sorcerer Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen) and his zealots on the loose trying to open a portal to the dreaded Dark Dimension, Strange studies to perfect the art of magic under the tutelage of fellow sorcerers Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Wong (Benedict Wong).
Scott Derrickson's Doctor Strange ultimately falls pray to the tropes of the origin story, treading similar water to the likes Thor, Captain America: The First Avenger and, especially, Iron Man, but manages to distinguish itself from the others thanks to some truly dazzling imagery. Derrickson, a huge fan of the early comics, stated that most of his inspiration came from one of Ditko's most jaw-dropping drawings, depicting the Sorcerer Supreme standing high above what appears to be multiple dimensions, each defying the laws of physics as we know it. Early on, the arrogant doctor is shoved head-first into a roller-coaster of alternate worlds, and the effect is extraordinary. Like one hell of a good acid trip, Strange receives a mind-fuck of an awakening, as do we. This is the kind of beautiful, hypnotic imagery that CGI was made for, to create something otherwise impossible, not to make a camera appear to glide through a close window.
Marvel have always hit the mark with the casting of their heroes, and Cumberbatch adds incredible charisma to a hero who is, at first anyway, rather loathsome. But Doctor Strange is also backed up by an unbelievable supporting cast of award-winning thesps whose presence ensures that you keep taking the gobbledegook-heavy exposition scenes seriously. Swinton is smiling and playful in a role that usually calls for a stone-faced drill sergeant, and Ejiofor adds dimensions (no pun intended) to a character who has one of the most intriguing arcs in the film, which will be of no surprise to anyone familiar with his comic-book incarnation. Mikkelsen and McAdams also make the most of underwritten roles, with the former especially adding weight to what is another wafer-thin Marvel villain. It really is one of the most impressive line-ups in recent memory, and not just for a superhero movie.
It is, of course, far from perfect. The insistence on staying with the origin formula really do hamper the potential of Doctor Strange, with the teases of the endless worlds left to explore hinting at a crazier, bolder film that could have been, but will hopefully come. Some of the supporting cast are also left hung out to dry, especially Michael Stulhbarg's Dr. Nicomdemus West, whose minuscule screen-time gives the impression that most of his scenes were left on the cutting-room floor. Still, these are gripes in what is otherwise a fantastically entertaining film, packed with action scenes that really are like nothing I've seen before, despite the ill-conceived Inception (2010) comparisons. The film's ongoing box-office success seems to signal a sequel will be inevitable, where I hope Derrickson will be granted permission to really let loose. But for now, this is yet another hit for Marvel.
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.
Benedict Cumberbatch seems to be making a career out of playing troubled and flawed geniuses, following his huge success as Sherlock Holmes in the TV series Sherlock and the upcoming - and hugely exciting - Dr. Strange in Marvel's upcoming film based on the sorcerer supreme. His finest work so far is in The Imitation Game as code-breaker Alan Turing, the unsung war hero who helped crack the apparently unbreakable Enigma machine used by the Germans during World War II, helping to save millions of lives in the process and shaving years off the war.
Turing was recognised as a prodigy from an extremely young age, and his cerebral superiority isolated him from others. He travels to Beltchley Park, where Commander Denniston (Charles Dance) interviews him as part of a recruitment process to form a cryptology team headed by chess champion Hugh Alexander (Matthew Goode), tasked to break the Enigma code. Turing gets the job through sheer intellectual brilliance, but not through his condescending personality, which instantly puts him at odds with the rigid and impatient Denniston. When he joins the team, which also consists of John Cairncross (Allen Leech) and Peter Hilton (Matthew Beard), he wastes no time in voicing his desire to work alone and dismisses the input of the others as simple time-wasting.
Director Morten Tyldum and writer Graham Moore have not created a work of any great intelligence or subtlety here, and The Imitation Game plays very much by the standard biopic rule book. No great care goes into helping us understand the inner workings of the Enigma itself, or the work done by Turing and his fellow code-breakers, and the film very much relies on great acting and a fast pace. The scenes with Turing, Alexander et al hard at work has them with sleeves rolled-up and chewing pencils whilst staring at boards. We don't quite know what they're doing, but we are certainly urging them to achieve their goal, and, of course, this being a film about Turing, there's only so much of his work that can be squeezed into two hours.
The Imitation Game also helps make the story relevant to the modern day. At the beginning of the film, set after the war, Turing is burgled and his flippant dismissal of the investigating Detective Nock (Rory Kinnear) puts him under suspicion. He is arrested for participating in lurid acts with a man, a crime punishable by up to two years in prison back then. It all ties in nicely with the recent official apology from Gordon Brown, then-prime minister in 2009, and his official pardon by the Queen in 2014. Flashbacks of Turing's early childhood at a boarding school and his relationship with close friend Christopher Morcom (Jack Bannon) are peppered throughout. They help gain an understanding of Turing's love of cryptology and his emerging sexuality, and these scenes are finely played by the young Alex Lawther and do in no way hinder the flow of the film.
But the film's trump card is undoubtedly Cumberbatch. Although his delivery at times can border on stage-y, he has a great weight to his voice. His face exudes such intelligence and charisma that you just want to pick it apart to see what's under there. Keira Knightley too, who I haven't even mentioned yet, is a surprise revelation as Joan Clarke, a fellow prodigy puzzle-solver who, being a woman, had to be hidden away as regulations didn't permit women positions of worthy status. She is fierce and full of life, the polar opposite to the withdrawn and work-focused Turing. Yet the two develop an intriguing and entirely convincing platonic love affair, leading to their short-lived engagement in 1941. It's covered with a thin layer of gloss and a longer running time with more careful story development would have been beneficial, but The Imitation Game is consistently thrilling and engaging, bolstered by a great ensemble.
Practically neglected entirely by cinema, it seems that America is finally holding its hands up in the air; ready to face its utterly barbaric history surrounding the kidnapping of black Africans and the introduction of slavery. Last year saw Quentin Tarantino deliver a sporadically entertaining yet hardly historically accurate depiction of slavery and plantation owners in Django Unchained, but British director Steve McQueen has delivered an unflinching, heartbreaking true story in 12 Years a Slave, an account of the experiences of Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a freeman living in American who is kidnapped, taken from his wife and children, and sold into slavery.
After a conflict with a sadistic overseer (Paul Dano), Northup is passed on by gentle plantation owner Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch), into the hands of the cruel Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender). There he finds himself caught up in a conflict between Epps' wife (Sarah Paulson) and fellow slave Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o). Patsey is treated cruelly by Mistress Epps simply because her husband desires her sexually, and Patsey pleads with Northup to end her life. Although coming from an educated background, and being especially skilled with a violin, Northup keeps his past a freeman quiet. But when chance leads to an encounter with Canadian abolitionist Bass (Brad Pitt), Northup sees a chance to communicate with his family back in New York.
For anyone familiar with the work of Steve McQueen, there is no doubting that 12 Years a Slave is distinctly his. His previous films Hunger (2008) and Shame (2011) can be described as works of high art, and while 12 Years a Slave features the long, haunting takes and moments of stillness that McQueen is known for, it is more recognisable as a mainstream film. I certainly don't mean that as a negative, as, given the subject matter, McQueen has to be extremely delicate with not allowing his own artistic preferences to overshadow the gravity of the story. But the film is surprisingly, yet thankfully, unsentimental. There's no big chest-beating moment of defiance or Oscar-grabbing monologues, and in fact we don't really get to know Northup as much as we really should.
Northup plays the role of protagonist (the film is based on his written account), but this is just one man. His story was one of a precious few to come out of slavery with a 'happy' ending, and 12 Years A Slave extends its focus to the experiences of the majority of slaves, giving the audience a first-hand experience of what it was like to live in this time. In a key scene, Northup stands silent as the other workers sing, and as the realisation of his situation hits home, he defiantly joins in. Patsey's story, if anything, is the more heartbreaking, caught between a drunken, lusty maniac and his contemptuous, jealous wife. In the film's most powerful scene, Epps catches her on the way back from another plantation. When he asks where she has been, she holds up a bar of soap. Mistress Epps won't let her wash. So with his wife encouraging him, he whips Patsey until her back is near unrecognisable. It's one of the most horrendous moments I've ever seen on screen, and it's all caught in one unflinching take.
The performances are universally excellent. Fassbender gets the easier role as the scowling sadist, but it is his character's Christian justification for slavery that most disturbs. Ejiofor is quietly effective in an unshowy role, but it is Nyong'o and Paulson that stand out as two women on completely opposite sides of the social spectrum. When the movie ends, although it climaxes with Northup uniting with his family, I had a strange feeling of dissatisfaction. I realised that this is why 12 Years a Slave is so powerful, as although it offers a kind resolution to a character that suffers an awful amount throughout, there's still the knowledge that this is one man amongst millions, that there has been no real justice for the perpetrators of this barbarism. As the footnotes inform us, Northup's capturers were never punished either, as it wasn't law for Northup to testify against them. It's a lot to stomach, but this is devastating, important cinema.
When we finally get to meet the magnificent dragon Smaug, voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch, at the climax of Peter Jackson's second instalment of his The Hobbit trilogy, we find him curled up beneath an enormous stash of gold coins and jewels, blissfully in the land of nod. After sitting through over two hours of this slog of a film, it's precisely where I wished I was. The Desolation of Smaug is yet further evidence that 9 hours worth of movies is not needed for Tolkien's delightful - and slim - novel. It feels like - to quote Ian Holm's Bilbo Baggins from The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) - thin, like butter scraped over too much bread.
The story picks up as the dwarves evade capture from the orc general Azog (Manu Bennett) and seek refuge in the home of Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt), a skin-changer who often takes the form of a giant bear. Setting of again towards Erebor to reclaim the dwarves homeland, Bilbo (Martin Freeman), Thorin (Richard Armitage), Gandalf (Ian McKellen) et al reach the Elven forest of Mirkwood. Gandalf departs to further investigate the strange goings-on at Dol Gondur, where the mysterious necromancer (Benedict Cumberbatch) seems to be building an army of sorts. In Mirkwood, the dwarves meet the Elvenking Thranduil (Lee Pace) and his son Legolas (Orlando Bloom), who imprison the dwarves following an altercation.
The Desolation of Smaug is simply a collection of things that happen - not much has a relevant impact on the story, nor does it develop any of the characters or make much of the film particularly interesting to watch. It's a near-3 hour film that barely has any time for its characters, preferring instead to repeatedly throw them into situations that apparently call for an extended, CGI-laden action sequence. It felt very much like a Middle Earth Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (2002) - vacant and almost soulless. The Lord of the Rings trilogy used CGI when it had to, and chose instead to welcome the natural beauty of the New Zealand landscape. And thanks to some gorgeous set design for the interiors, it felt like you could reach out and touch Middle Earth. Here, everything feels digital.
There's also too much padding. When the dwarves arrive in Lake Town, smuggled in by the revolutionary-type Bard (Luke Evans), it develops a strange love-triangle between dwarf Kili (Aidan Turner), elf-warrior Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) and Legolas. This can be argued as character development for one of the much underdeveloped dwarves, but its portrayed so blandly that it's nothing more of a distraction to Bilbo and Thorin finally encountering Smaug. Bard himself is also relatively one-dimensional, not much more than a rugged face that has been spawned by destiny - a reluctant hero that has chosen a different path to the one that seems lined up for him. Sound familiar?
It's not all bad of course, so although Peter Jackson has been caught up in the special-effects machine, he still shows his talent for the spectacle with one action scene that sees the dwarves escape Mirkwood and a micro army of rampant orcs in barrels down a river. It is a silly, overblown set-piece, but it proves funny and thrilling, a genuinely exciting highlight within one of the film's most drawn-out chapters. Also, Smaug himself doesn't disappoint. Although he's entirely CGI, the giant beast is entirely real and, thanks to Benedict Cumberbatch, uncomfortably menacing. His exchanges with Bilbo are the movie's best moments, as they both try and outsmart each other with words and tricks. Which makes it all the more disappointing when the film movies into yet another overwrought action scene.
I'm sure the obvious lack of heart and storytelling quality won't worry the producers (the film is already the 49th highest-grossing film of all time), nor will it Peter Jackson. This adaptation is now so far removed from the book's original vision that I don't think the sounds of Tolkien shouting "Fool of a Took!" in his grave will be giving Jackson sleepless nights. I remember in 2003, when The Return of the King (2003) was reaching its first climax at three hours, my bum was glued to the seat and my palms were sweaty, hit with the tragic realisation that this film trilogy would soon be over and all I had to look forward to was the Extended Edition DVD. At the 2 hour mark of The Desolation of Smaug, my bum was numb, I was shifting in my seat, and I was wondering what food I had in the fridge for later. Says it all really.
After having to wait a surprising amount of time for the sequel - given the success of its predecessor - Star Trek Into Darkness has a lot to live up to. The 'original' did the remarkable job of bringing a fresh audience to what was thought of (by non-Trekkies) as cheesy sci-fi with bad sets and dodgy haircuts. The franchise had been brought back from the dead, opting for less philosophising and more wallop for your money, which although pissing a few Trekkies off, kept most viewers at least relatively satisfied. So after finding a way to be able to re-tell the story of the Starship Enterprise without having to re-write 'history', returning director J.J. Abrams found himself with an entire universe to explore. Which makes it very strange that Abrams and his frequent collaborators have chosen not to give us something entirely new, and instead chosen to touch the untouchable - "KHAAAAAAANNNNNNNN!".
Having made his natural progression from the academy to the captain's chair, Jim Kirk (Chris Pine) and his conflicted friend Spock (Zachary Quinto) begin the film by saving a planet from destruction. Though this is seen as a valiant act in his own eyes, Kirk is reprimanded by Captain Pike (Bruce Greenwood) for knowingly disobeying Starfleet orders. Kirk agrees to a demotion and to become Pike's second-in-command, and they are briefed about a terrorist named John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch), who has just blown up a Starfleet installation in London. But after the meeting of the Starfleet commanders is also attacked, Kirk is reinstated by Admiral Marcus (Peter Weller), who gives Kirk the Enterprise back and a mission to take out Harrison.
Many of the problems that lay with the first film are back again. Abrams often heaps on too much comedy in a bid to keep the audience entertained, sometimes much to the suffering of some of the film's supporting characters. Much of the supporting crew are reduced to a set-piece here or a funny line there, with Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and Sulu (John Cho) suffering most this time. The story is still focused on the growing relationship between Kirk and Spock, who after many misunderstandings last time around, seem well on their path to the great friendship that will be. Newcomer Carol (Alice Eve) does little more that get her kit off in one pointless and much criticised scene, but, unless you're a die-hard Trekkie, you should be too enthralled to care much about it, as Abrams delivers one breathless set-piece after another, backed by some excellent CGI work.
The plot often gets unnecessarily convoluted given the relatively basic plot, and there are plot holes a-plenty if you enjoy picking at them. Yet Cumberbatch's excellent performance as the refreshingly multi-dimensional bad guy is the much-needed 'darkness' from the title, and Abrams really pushes the boundaries of the 12A certificate (if you're from the UK). It's been called the worst Star Trek movie ever made by Trekkies, which seems utterly ridiculous to me. It treads much of the same ground as the beloved Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982), but I believe this was an attempt to bond with the hardcore fans, although I feel The Wrath of Khan is grossly overrated. The re-boot doesn't subvert Star Trek, it simply takes it in another direction, which was the whole point of the exercise. Personally, I'll still be tracking this franchise with wide-eyed curiosity, as Abrams boldly takes us where... well, you get the point.
Retired British Intelligence officer George Smiley (Gary Oldman) is forced out of retirement to investigate a possible mole in the system. Ricky Tarr (Tom Hardy), a spy returning from overseas, confirms the suspicions after having a brief affair with a Soviet Agent, who revealed that an insider was passing information to the Russians. Assisted by Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch), Smiley must investigate his former colleagues, dubbed by his former boss Control (John Hurt), as 'Tinker' (Toby Jones), 'Tailor' (Colin Firth), 'Sailor' (Ciaran Hinds), and 'Poorman' (David Dencik). Also on his list of interviewees is school teacher Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong), who is a former agent that was shot and captured by the Russians in a previous bungled operation, and has now been cast out by the agency nicknamed the 'Circus'.
After the Harry Potter series ended earlier this year, it's great to see that a stellar British cast can still be assembled. And what a cast it is. The danger, obviously, is that with such talent on display, some people can get left behind or the film can feel over-populated. But, with the exception of Ciaran Hinds, each actor gets their chance to shine. The notable stand-out in my opinion is Hardy, who with his recent back catalogue, can only be described as the best young British actor around. He's a world away from psychopathic jailbird Charles Bronson in, er, Bronson (2008), which is his greatest performance to date. Here, he's a damaged and emotionally-torn grunt who is dealing with the fact that the woman he's possibly fallen in love with has disappeared and most likely dead.
With Alec Guinness making the role of Smiley his own in the BBC adaptation of John le Carre's book, Oldman faced a challenge. But of course, this being Oldman, he makes his turn as the bespectacled, brooding and miserable super-spy into one of his best performances. He's not the over-the-top bad guy or the larger-than-life personality that we're used to from the likes of Leon (1994), Sid And Nancy (1986) or The Fifth Element (1997), but he is quiet, dutiful, and ponderous. I believe in the years to come he will be remembered as one of the finest actors this country has ever produced. The whole film is a tour de force of acting, and mention must go to Firth also, who demonstrates once again why, at the age of 51, he's getting more work than ever.
The film itself is sensational. Every frame, sound, and line of dialogue looks carefully considered. Just like the collection of grumpy spies, the film is slow-moving. It's a film of tone and mood, of greys and browns. This is portraying 1970's Britain, and from the looks of it, it was a miserable and paranoid place to live. The Cold War was in full flow, and Britain was in danger of being left in the wake of it's American allies. The characters reflect the mood of the country, it would seem. The spies are the people that must risk torture, murder, or arrest, all for the apparent safety of Britain, and they must do it all in the shadows. They are unhappy, and have every right to be.
It can be confusing, but when the credits roll after an exceptional closing and lively montage, and all the pieces come together, it's apparent that it's a relatively straightforward plot that has been arranged in a complex manner. It doesn't feel like this was done to make the film seem more intelligent than it is, but a way to keep the narrative interesting, and allowing us to learn things as our protagonist does. It jumps back and forward in time as the various players tell their story, or Smiley finds another piece to the puzzle, and credit must go to director Tomas Alfredson, who directed Swedish vampire masterpiece Let The Right One In (2008), for keeping a firm grip on everything. Just a wonderful film, and one that will surely get plenty of recognition come next years Academy Awards.
This transition to the small screen works both for and against Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle. Although he has voiced his delight at Netflix acquiring his film, it's difficult to believe that Serkis wasn't disappointed that such a personal project wouldn't be seen on the big screen. On the other hand, this has allowed for a much darker tone, and thus bringing it closer to Kipling's original text, without any concern for classification. It's a 12A on Netflix, but I feel the censors may have requested some cuts for a cinema release, and probably rightfully so. This doesn't feature any song-and-dance numbers or King Louie, and the once-cuddly Baloo the sloth bear is now a scarred brute with a Cockney accent. The story is familiar enough, with an orphan boy being left to die in the jungle before being carried to safety by the wise black panther Bageera (voiced by Christian Bale). A wolf pack takes him in, and the boy grows up to be Mowgli (Rohan Chand), only the wolves are never quite convinced of his importance and the man-cub struggles to find his place. 
