Review #1,398: 'Sicario 2: Soldado' (2018)

Denis Villeneuve's Sicario was one of the most memorable thrillers of 2015, but it wasn't a film that exactly cried out for a sequel. Nevertheless, talk of a follow-up has been batted around ever since its release, with Villeneuve originally attached to direct. He dropped out to follow his childhood dream of directing Blade Runner 2049 however, with Italian director Stefano Sollima eventually signing on to helm the next chapter in the story of former sicario turned vengeful assassin Alejandro, played with a trademark steeliness by Benicio Del Toro. Original writer Taylor Sheridan was back on board to further explore the moral and social decay on both sides of the border, themes he had tackled before in the likes of Hell or High Water or his directorial debut Wind River. But there seems to be something missing from Sicario 2: Soldado, particularly the way Villeneuve questioned the ethics of the manner in which the US dished out its unique brand of justice.

The first Sicario brought us into this world of shady government agencies and barbaric Mexican drug cartels through the eyes of Emily Blunt's rookie, but she is nowhere to be seen here. This leaves us with cocky, flip-flop wearing CIA agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin), who is brought in by the Department of Defence to combat the drug cartels who, by definition, are now considered terrorists. Targets are easier to execute when they are distracted, so Graver suggests instigating a war between the two dominant cartels and profit from the ensuing chaos. Taking out the leaders will only breed more splintered cartels so, with the freedom to operate without rules, Graver employs black operative Alejandro Gillick to help him and his team kidnap the daughter of a cartel kingpin, Isabel Reyes (Isabela Moner). All goes to plan until the team are betrayed by the Mexican police, leaving Alejandro stranded in the desert with Isabel and Graver on the receiving end of a roasting from his incredibly pissed-off superiors.

Villeneuve and Blunt aren't the only ones who don't return: cinematographer Roger Deakins and composer Johann Johannsoon (who passed away earlier this year) are also absent. Thankfully, their replacements Dariusz Wolski and Hildur Guðnadottir are able to replicate the same sweltering, doom-laden atmosphere of the first, as well as injecting some of their own sense of dread and tension into the film's ambience. Del Toro is once again a dazzling presence, managing to find the shred of humanity left in a brutal character still emotionally devastated by his family's murder and hungry for vengeance. Brolin is a highly charismatic actor, but while we get to see the occasional twinkle in his eye, Sollima's questionable stance seemingly in favour of the gung-ho tactics employed by the American forces relegates Graver to a one-note character. Soldado misses Villeneuve's concern for the consequences of such careless tactics and the limits of American intervention overseas, but the action scenes are executed unflinchingly with nerve-shredding realism. Soldado chooses to end with an invitation for at least one more chapter in this story, and while the desire to tell a complete story with time and care is admirable, Soldado feels oddly unfinished as a result.


Directed by: Stefano Sollima
Starring: Benicio Del Toro, Josh Brolin, Isabela Moner, Jeffrey Donovan, Elijah Rodriguez, Catherine Keener, Matthew Modine, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Shea Whigham
Country: USA/Mexico

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,154: 'The Wolfman' (2010)

To say that The Wolfman had a troublesome journey from page to screen would be an understatement, with director-swaps, re-shoots and a release date that kept getting pushed back plaguing the production of Universal's attempt to reboot one of the horror franchises they laid their foundations with back in the 1930s and 40s. The cracks and desperate stitching together are plain to see in the resulting movie, which limped into cinemas only to quickly disappear from memory. One part an earnest attempt to bring an age-old tale to modern audiences with a heavy tip-of-the-hat to the Lon Chaney original, and one part a bungled and rushed attempt to blend a serious psychological study with gruesome mainstream thrills, screenwriters Andrew Kevin Walker (Se7en) and David Self (Road to Perdition) must have been wondering where their hard work went.

Shakespearean actor Lawrence Talbot (Benicio Del Toro) leaves the comforts of London life for his childhood home of Blackmoor after he learns of the disappearance of his brother Ben (Simon Merrells). There waiting for him is his father Sir John (Anthony Hopkins), who greets his wayward son in typical horror fashion, from the top of the dark staircase of his once-spectacular mansion. When Ben shows up dead and apparently mangled by some vicious beast, Lawrence consoles his brother's beautiful fiancee Gwen (Emily Blunt). During an attack on the village by a bloodthirsty werewolf, Lawrence is bitten and is cursed to transform into a murderous monster every full moon. Faced with his developing fondness for Gwen and his uncontrollable, animalistic urges, Lawrence is forced to confront the beast within, as Scotland Yard Inspector Aberline (Hugo Weaving) is called in as the body count rises.

Given my love for the old Universal horror movies, I appreciated The Wolfman's respect for the original and the occasional success in bringing those foggy English moors to life again. The film also thrives during the few brutal attacks, with no punches being pulled in the gore stakes as spines are raked and limbs go flying. Sadly, this is just about all Joe Johnston's movie has going for it, and the director shapes the film with the same lack of singular vision that plagued Jurassic Park III (2001) and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011). One moment it is rushing to deliver the CGI-fuelled thrills to the undemanding audience, and the next it is brooding and deep, or delivering a confusing moment of exposition in what becomes an unnecessarily complicated plot. I don't recall the likes of Lon Chaney and Bela Lugosi stumbling their way through a convoluted story for 2 long hours, so why would it be needed here?


Directed by: Joe Johnston
Starring: Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins, Emily Blunt, Hugo Weaving
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,091: 'Basquiat' (1996)

Artist-turned-director Julian Schnabel's re-creation of the New York art scene of the early 1980's is captured with the authenticity of a photograph from the time come to life. If anybody should be familiar with the vibrant energy and atmosphere of this era, it would be Schnabel, as he brushed shoulders with the likes of Andy Warhol and the topic of his debut feature, Jean-Michel Basquiat, as a key contributor to the American 'Neo-Expressionism' movement himself. What the film fails to do however, is capture the driving force behind Basquiat's art and the demons that drove him to heroin, which is odd given that Schnabel - here thinly disguised as a character played by Gary Oldman - was close friends with Basquiat.

Born into a middle-class family in New York to parents of Haitian and Puerto Rican descent, we first meet a 20 year-old Basquiat, played by Jeffrey Wright, living in a cardboard box. Already a cult figure in the city thanks to his spray-painted poetry under the guise of 'SAMO', a chance encounter with Andy Warhol (David Bowie) and art dealer Bruno Bischofberger (Dennis Hopper) propels him to the front-and-centre of the art scene. Basquiat is charming and charismatic, but also detached and inwardly focused. While this may compliment his art, he remains a mystery to his girlfriend Gina (Claire Forlani) and becomes clinically depressed when an article dubs him Warhol's 'mascot'. Wright gets all the mannerisms and facial expressions spot on, but he also bring a deep soulfulness to what is a terrific, career-making performance.

Peppered with a massive supporting cast that also includes Benicio Del Toro, Michael Wincott, Parker Posey, Willem Dafoe, Christopher Walken, Tatum O'Neal and Courtney Love, Basquiat seems frequently distracted and never really goes deep enough to unravel the thought processes of the enigmatic artist. There are moments of undeniable beauty - Basquiat dreams of moving to Hawaii and imagines the New York skyline as a surfer catching a wave - and there is a building air of tragedy as he begins his inevitable decline into isolation and drug addiction, but the film follows the familiar biopic formula to a tee. See it for the wonderful sense of time and place, and a truly astonishing performance from Wright.


Directed by: Julian Schnabel
Starring: Jeffrey Wright, Michael Wincott, Benicio Del Toro, Claire Forlani, David Bowie, Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman, Parker Posey, Christopher Walken, Willem Dafoe
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #959: 'Sicario' (2015)

Denis Villeneuve's previous films, 2010's Incendies and 2013's double-whammy of Prisoners and Enemy, delved into the darkness of the human psyche at its most primal level. Sicario, penned by actor-turned-writer Andrew Sheridan, continues the trend. While its setting demands something all the more high-octane to what we are used to from the Canadian director, Villeneuve makes sure to keep his primary focus on his lead trio, all who are suffering psychologically in some way from the extreme violence they witness on a regular basis. But Sicario delivers on the set-pieces too, sculpting a steady stream of intense set-pieces handled delicately and with a refreshing coherence.

During a SWAT raid of a house believed to be hiding wanted kidnappers, strong-willed agent Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) and her idealistic partner Reggie (Black Mirror's Daniel Kaluuya) make a gruesome discovery. Although the raid is a success, it doesn't come without casualties, and soon enough Kate and Reggie find themselves sitting outside an office where high-ranking officers from a variety of agencies are in deep discussion. Flip-flop wearing CIA agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin) wants Kate along with him as he and his team head out to Juarez, Mexico, to find the men truly responsible for the carnage and bring down cartel boss Manuel Diaz (Bernardo P. Saracino), with the hope that it will lead to an illusive drug lord.

Just why Kate has been asked to tag along for the ride isn't made clear until near the very end, but Kate's stubbornness and natural curiosity means that she is determined to see it out, regardless of the questionable methods employed by Matt and another mysterious figure, the shadowy Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro). Sicario asks questions of whether bending the rules or using brutality can be justified when faced with an enemy willing to do anything to live another day. When the team first roll into the war-zone of Suarez, mutilated corpses dangle from a bridge to serve as a warning to anyone entering. How can you truly stay within the law when faced with an opponent so devoid of humanity? The psychological weight of these questions press down on Kate as the film progresses.

The film often paces briskly from one set-piece to another, without forgetting to amp up the tension beforehand. A stand-out scene takes place on the Bridge of the Americas as the team are transporting one of Diaz's top men back to the United States. Caught in a traffic jam, they immediately sense danger as vehicles stocked with tattooed men slowly pull up nearby. It's a nerve-jangling moment, one of many in the film, and the action is dealt with clinically, not allowing any of the characters to be forgotten or blurred within the frenzy. Towering above everybody else is Del Toro as the mysterious Alejandro, a man Kate cannot truly unravel. His background and ultimate purpose is left in the dark for the most part of the film, but it soon becomes clear that this is in fact his story. This is dark, visceral stuff, bolstered by an outstanding cast and an intriguing tale to tell.


Directed by: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Emily Blunt, Josh Brolin, Benicio Del Toro, Daniel Kaluuya, Victor Garber, Jon Bernthal
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #893: 'Inherent Vice' (2014)

Following in the footsteps of Raymond Chandler and the Coen brothers' Chandler homage The Big Lebowski (1998), Paul Thomas Anderson's adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's 2009 novel of the same name, Inherent Vice, has its permanently perplexed gumshoe trying to navigate his way through a labyrinthine plot that never really makes sense. Joaquin Phoenix's mutton-chopped 'Doc' Sportello is rarely too far away from his next joint in a hungover 1970's, where free love and hippydom is starting to fade and Richard Nixon reigns in the White House. The plot plays second fiddle to the hazy atmosphere and distinct sense of place, so if you find yourself constantly scratching your head as the story 'unfolds', it really doesn't matter.

If Paul Thomas Anderson's work is noticeably divided by 2007's masterpiece There Will Be Blood, when his work seemed to transform from absorbing, oddball ensembles (and even an Adam Sandler comedy) into sweeping, completely hypnotic works of art, Inherent Vice is a curious combination of the two era's. While never spilling over into full-blown comedy, the film makes frequent use of slapstick and moments of surreal absurdity, all delivered with perfect comic timing by its extremely talented cast. However, there's something else going on; a bigger picture that Anderson never really grasps (and doesn't really need to), and an eeriness that may or may not be fuelled by Doc's drug-induced paranoia and bewilderment.

The story kicks off when Doc is visited by old flame Shasta Hepworth (Katherine Waterston), who informs Doc of her affair with real estate developer Mickey Z. Wolfmann (Eric Roberts) and a possible plot to kidnap and commit him to a mental asylum. Doc's investigations force him into constant conflict with former colleague Lt. Detective 'Bigfoot' Bjornsen (Josh Brolin), a buzzcut-donning hippy-hater, who assists Doc with the news that Wolfmann has disappeared without a trace. Doc is also tasked with locating two others - a member of the Aryan Brotherhood who owes money to Black Guerilla Family member Tariq (Michael Kenneth Williams), and missing husband Coy (Owen Wilson), whose wife Hope (Jena Malone) has been informed of his death. The cases all may be linked by a mysterious boat known as the Golden Fang.

The head-scratching antics and doped-up conversations can cause extreme brain fatigue at times, so this is far from Anderson's best work. But Inherent Vice is still distinctly the work of Anderson, who wraps the film in an unpredictable and unsettling atmosphere at times, with the favouring of close-up's, a technique adopted in The Master (2012), heightening the deliriousness of the experience. The real find here is undoubtedly Waterston, whose twist on the femme fatale is played with a free-spirited seductiveness that would drive most men crazy. Phoenix is predictably convincing as the permanently red-eyed and well-meaning private dick, and Brolin overshadows anyone in the same room as him with his intense and idiosyncratic stiff, demanding waffles in bawled Spanish and deep-throating a popsicle much to Doc's disgust. Anyone expecting to be satisfied come the climax may be disappointed, and, like The Master, it can be difficult to love at times, but Inherent Vice is a one-of-a-kind experience; constantly baffling, funny, frustrating and beautiful.


Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Katherine Waterston, Josh Brolin, Owen Wilson, Benicio Del Toro, Reese Witherspoon, Jena Malone, Joanna Newsom, Martin Short
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #740: 'The Usual Suspects' (1995)

Thanks mainly to Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1992), the 1990's saw the re-emergence of crime noir - talky, violent thrillers packed with colourful characters and even more colourful language. Bryan Singer's The Usual Suspects was one of the best of the bunch, thanks mainly to the director taking influence from past masters such as Hitchcock, Lang and Kurosawa, rather than the many Tarantino copycats that flooded the 90's cinema market, who did little but poorly imitate the big-chinned one's chatty screenplays and outlandish, darkly humorous violence. It also had a killer twist; one that will baffle as much as it will surprise, or possibly induce cries of cheap manipulation.

After what appears to be a heist gone wrong on an exploded boat, the only surviving witness, Verbal Kint (Kevin Spacey), a disabled con-man, is brought in to be interrogated by customer officer Dave Kujan (Chazz Palminteri). Having already been acquitted by some mysterious higher powers, Kint is probed by Kujan for more information. He tells a story of five criminals who meets in a line-up - Dean Keaton (Gabriel Byrne), a steely criminal gone straight, Michael McManus (Stephen Baldwin), an entry man with a short fuse, Todd Hockney (Kevin Pollak), a hijacker, Fred Fenster (Benicio Del Toro), McManus's partner, and Kint himself. Having being picked up one time too many, the group hatch a plot to pay the crooked cops back, and eventually start taking jobs from the shady Redfoot (Peter Greene).

While the build-up to the explosion seen at the beginning of the film is relatively formulaic in its execution, Singer and screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie (who won an Oscar for his efforts) inject enough humour into the script to bring these characters alive, and bring them over to your side. The clever thing is that it soon becomes apparent that everything were seeing either isn't true or isn't at all relevant, and it's the increasingly looming presence of the mysterious and infamous criminal mastermind Keyser Soze, who may in fact hold all the cards. The twist is not particularly clever at all, and isn't that hard to guess, but the director's skill in capturing it is what makes it so memorable.

The now-iconic poster wouldn't be so iconic if the characters hadn't been so memorably played by it's cast. With the exception of Kint, the characters are little but stock characters, but there is genuine chemistry, especially in the line-up scene where they crack up after Baldwin's over-the-top delivery of a line. Byrne proves again that he is much more deserving than the mediocre roles he tends to land, and Spacey bagged a Supporting Actor Oscar for his puppy-dog con-man. It's far, far from deserving of its place as #23 on IMDb's top films of all time, but The Usual Suspects is riveting stuff, even after it's umpteenth viewing.


Directed by: Bryan Singer
Starring: Kevin Spacey, Gabriel Byrne, Chazz Palminteri, Stephen Baldwin, Kevin Pollak, Benicio Del Toro, Pete Postlethwaite, Giancarlo Esposito
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #557: 'Savages' (2012)

Two childhood friends, Chon (Taylor Kitsch) and Ben (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) run a highly profitable business in Laguna Beach, California, where they share everything including their girlfriend O (Blake Lively). Chon, an ex-Navy SEAL, is the muscle, and Ben, a highly skilled botanist, is the brains. After a few years of hard work, they now grow and sell the most powerful strain of marijuana in the world. When they are sent a video depicting a mass chain-saw murder by Lado (Benicio Del Toro), they move to meet a powerful Mexican cartel ran by honcho Elena (Salma Hayek). Against the advice of CIA insider Dennis (John Travolta), Chon and Ben refuse the cartel an offer of partnership and plan to flee to Indonesia the next day. Unimpressed by the insult, Lado and his crew abduct O, forcing them into a three-year business deal, but Chon and Ben have other ideas.

Treading relatively unfamiliar ground, Oliver Stone's latest film is most akin to his sleazy 1997 neo-noir U-Turn, employing cinematographer Dan Mindel to create a violent yet sun-bleached world of torture, corruption, and sleazy Mexicans. The film begins with a group of masked unknowns being decapitated with a chain-saw, captured on shaky hand-held footage, and the film doesn't let up. The hulking Lado represents the physical side of the drugs business, and we later see him murder a lawyer and his wife in cold blood. But where the film is most impressive is when dealing with the tactical side of the situation, with Chon and Ben refusing to back down, and employing their own means of negotiation while Elena continues her wave of intimidation. It is these twists and turns that keep the film interesting, and while I found myself not really caring who gets out of it alive, the execution kept me on my toes.

The ensemble of unrelatable and despicable characters is the main weakness of the film, with none of the large cast standing out as the focal point of the movie. Chon is suitably stoic as the much-needed physical presence in Chon and Ben's business, but it is Ben who provides the only remotely sympathetic character, a naive botany genius that is as horrified at the violence that unfolds before him as we are. The narration is provided by O, who after explaining her romantic situation with Chon and Ben admits that we are probably thinking "slut!", and she's right. Why would I care about a beautiful spoilt rich-girl living off the riches of two criminals? The performances are outstanding throughout, however. Del Toro proves genuinely terrifying straight from the off as we witness just what his character is capable of, but, surprisingly, it is Travolta's slimy CIA agent that impresses most. His panicked actions provide some amusement, and the scene with his dying wife is genuinely moving. Savages is not particularly original, intelligent or innovative, but it is two hours of exciting, if often unpleasant, entertainment.


Directed by: Oliver Stone
Starring: Taylor Kitsch, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Blake Lively, Benicio Del Toro, Salma Hayek, John Travolta, Emile Hirsch
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie