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 #1,237: 'Free Fire' (2016)

The decade following the release of Quentin Tarantino's two-punch of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction saw many independent filmmakers clamouring to try and recreate the magic of those crime movies, which catapulted the one-time video store clerk to directorial super stardom. Stripped of his ear for witty dialogue and everything else that made them stand out, most of these imitations simply consisted of bad men pointing guns at each other whilst talking pop culture. This craze has since died down, but based on Ben Wheatley's latest venture Free Fire, there are those still longing to recreate the magic of those 90's classics. Free Fire is the cinematic equivalent of pillaging your toy box as a child and have the most colourful figures shoot it out with one another for the flimsiest of reasons. However, this isn't entirely a bad thing.

In 1970's Boston, a bunch of mean-looking men and one woman meet at an abandoned warehouse to finalise an arms deal. IRA members Chris (Cillian Murphy) and Frank (Wheatley regular Michael Smiley) meet with intermediary Justine (Brie Larson), and eventually with charming connect Ord (Armie Hammer looking very comfortable rocking a 70's beard). Arms dealer Vernon (Sharlto Copley) has some bad news in that he doesn't have the guns ordered, but the Irishmen push ahead for the deal anyway. A rocky introduction seems to be heading towards peaceful resolution, until Vernon's associate Harry (a hairy and bespectacled Jack Reynor) recognises junkie Stevo (Sam Riley) - one of Chris and Frank's gang - from a violent confrontation the night before. Negotiations quickly escalate into a stand-off between both parties, and a huge shoot-out ensues. With a briefcase full of money and a truck load of guns there for the taking, everyone's motivation and loyalty is quickly under scrutiny.

After tackling the lofty concept of socioeconomic commentary in messy misfire High Rise, Wheatley has fallen back on a simplistic and indulgent crowd-pleaser. With many an object to hide behind in the expansive warehouse setting, the witty dialogue of the opening thirty minutes becomes a cycle of leg-and-shoulder wounds and ricocheting bullets. It's a rather childish concept, but it manages to entertain by refusing to take itself seriously. Fracturing loyalties and double-crosses play second fiddle to guessing who will die next and just how they will meet their doom, backed by an impressive line-up of character actors. Outside of a couple of gruesome deaths, the script by Wheatley and long-time writing partner Amy Jump offers few surprises. Perhaps the couple needed to recuperate after their ambitious but ultimately disappointing attempt to bring High-Rise to the big screen. Whatever the reasoning for tackling a project so knowingly lacking in scale and originality, I enjoyed it, and hopefully now it's out of their system they will be capable of delivering a film as masterful as their jewel in the crown, Kill List.


Directed by: Ben Wheatley
Starring: Cillian Murphy, Brie Larson, Sharlto Copley, Armie Hammer, Michael Smiley, Sam Riley, Jack Reynor, Babou Ceesay, Noah Taylor
Country: UK/France

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #795: 'Transformers: Age of Extinction' (2014)

For those (surely) few concerned at the film title's hint that this may spell the end of the giant, indistinguishable CGI aliens, then rest assured, the perplexing box-office takings and the recent announcement of a fifth instalment means that there's no end in sight for Michael Bay's soulless, money-churning franchise. For those tired of the sickly, shaky-cam photography, annoying, goofy humour, tactless pandering to it's undemanding audience, and endless scenes of computer effects bashing against one another, this spells disaster. Though Age of Extinction marks a slightly more focused improvement over it's two predecessors, Bay is showing no signs of wanting to create a decent movie.

Essentially a re-boot due to a complete cast overhaul (minus the robots), this fourth instalment offers little in terms of refreshment. Our human hero is now Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg), replacing Shia LaBeouf's Sam Witwicky, but sharing all the personality traits. Yeager is a genius mechanic, turning junk into something useful, though nothing financially successful, as his hot-pants-donning jailbait daughter Tessa (Nicola Peltz) repeatedly points out. He is essentially the same nerdy, fast-talking every-man as Sam, only he has arms like tree trunks. His discovery of a beaten-down old trunk in a crumbling movie theatre (perhaps a nod to Bay's hand in the disappearance of the local independent cinema) kicks off a series of events which soon attract the attention of corporate-type CIA agent Attinger (Kelsey Grammer).

Of course, the truck is Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen), and it turns out that the government are hunting down transformers - even the good guys who helped in the previous film's battle in Chicago. A shady company, headed by Joshua Joyce (Stanley Tucci - the only actor appearing to have a pulse), is also involved, using 'science' to extract data from the head of Megatron and extracting a new, codeable metal - laughably dubbed 'Transformium'. Anything can be created from the substance, and is being used to develop the company's very own transformers, including Galvatron, who fans of the comic will know to be an absolute beast. When he is unleashed, it becomes apparent that Galvatron has plans of his own. Also in the mix is ancient transformer bounty hunter Lockdown (Mary Ryan), who intends on taking Optimus back to the 'creator'.

It's a hell of a lot of plot, and at 165 minutes, this will test the endurance of even the most hard-core fan of the new movie franchise. Bay clearly hasn't learned anything from the critics. Age of Extinction is the same convoluted splurge as the film's that came before. This time at least, thanks to the vocal talents of John Goodman and Ken Watanabe, the robots can at least be identified amidst the carnage. Without Megan Fox or Rosie Huntington-Whitely to letch over, Bay has employed another useless female character in Peltz, who runs away from explosions in short-shorts and high heels, and has an equally dull boyfriend in Shane (Jack Reynor - whose Irish accent somehow sounds fake even though his IMDb page lists him as having lived in Ireland most of his life). They've been sleeping together for ages so, y'know, the whole sex with a minor thing is cool.

Many critics have dubbed this as the worst yet, but I disagree. Although I detest the use of CGI as a narrative tool, the special effects here are some of the greatest work ever put on film. There's also no outright racist characters, such as the Twins from Revenge of the Fallen (2009), and the whole experience is far less cringe-worthy than it's predecessor's in terms of attempted comedy. But with the film failing to inject any development or evolution into the series, the point of these movies points to just one thing - money. Bay is filling his pockets without a shred of artistic integrity, and as long as audiences keep offering their money for sheer mediocrity, these movies will keep popping up every couple of years.


Directed by: Michael Bay
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Stanley Tucci, Kelsey Grammer, Nicola Peltz, Jack Reynor, Titus Welliver
Country: USA/China

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie