Pixar's Cars is now remembered as one of the great studio's rare misfires; a formulaic animated movie that had far more to offer to the children in the audience than to the adults paying for them to be there (although I think it's one of their most misunderstood movies and well worth a re-visit). Despite this, it was a box-office smash and a dream in terms of merchandising. A few years ago, Pixar may have thought twice about extending the story of Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and the town of Radiator Springs without having something new to say, but ever since Disney took over, they've taken a more relaxed attitude towards bending to audience demand and churning out an underdeveloped and unworthy sequel. The result is Cars 2, a mess of a movie with an absence of any real laughs that feels like a straight-to-DVD short stretched out over 106 minutes.
Now a four-time Piston Cup champion, the world-famous Lightning McQueen returns to Radiator Springs to see his old friends, much to the delight of best chum Mater (Larry the Cable Guy). However, formula champion Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro) challenges McQueen to join him in the World Grand Prix, an event created by Sir Miles Axelrod (Eddie Izzard) to advertise his new fuel Allinol. McQueen, along with Mater, Luigi (Tony Shalhoub), Guido (Guido Quaroni), Fillmore (Lloyd Sherr) and Sarge (Paul Dooley), heads to Tokyo, where Mater's buffoonish behaviour starts to grate on the racing star. Meanwhile, weapons designer Professor Zundapp (Thomas Kretschmann) and his cronies are taking out cars using an electromagnetic pulse in an attempt to scupper Axelrod's plans and secure oil profits. This catches the attention of international super-spy Finn McMissile (Michael Caine) and his partner Holley Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer), who mistake Mater for a fellow spy and hire the clueless tow truck to help with their mission.
This may sound like a bold move for a franchise built on low-key themes of friendship and humility around a traditional fish-out-of-water story, and Cars 2 fleetingly captures the imagination as McMissile swings onto an enemy oil rig, gadgets at the ready. But this is no longer Lightning McQueen's story. Instead, they push Mater, the comic relief best served in tiny doses, front and centre. Not only do his shenanigans increasingly annoy, they are also painfully unfunny. Many of the memorable supporting cast from the first movie are either heavily sidelined or given the boot altogether, and the story is so disjointed that it's difficult to keep up with the endless roster of forgettable, newly-introduced characters. Kids will love it though, and that's all that really matters when it comes to box-office receipts. There's enough colour, slapstick and racing action to keep them on their seats, and the animation again is truly wonderful. While this may get a pass if released by Dreamworks, mediocrity never used to be on Pixar's radar, and the high standards are still expected. One need only look at their Toy Story trilogy to see how inspired their sequels can be, which makes the middling antics of Cars 2 all the more crushing.
Easily taking the crown of best magician-based movie of 2006 - swamping the distinctly wonder-less and barely remembered The Illusionist - Christopher Nolan's The Prestige is a cinematic sleight-of-hand; an enigma of a movie that is both a puzzle-box of misdirection and an engrossing tale of two warring magicians. When I first saw Nolan's fifth feature (and his second working with his brother and occasional writing partner Jonathan), its 'big reveal' seemed obvious to me early on in the third act, so when the grand revelations came at the climax, I was left feeling somewhat underwhelmed. In the years since, The Prestige has emerged as a firm favourite amongst Nolanites, so I was eager to re-visit it without the added pressure of trying to navigate through the film's many smokes and mirrors. Without this on my back, I could only sit back and admire a true craftsman at work, even though the narrative pushes the boundaries of credibility.
In 1890s London, two apprentice magicians from two vastly different backgrounds work for Milton (real-life magician Ricky Jay), assisting in a nightly trick involving a glamorous assistant and a tank of water. Hugh Jackman is Robert Angier, a handsome, charismatic American from a privileged background. Christian Bale plays Alfred Borden, a rough Cockney and magic purist. While Angier knows how to get an audience excited and keep them entertained, Borden is a sullen stage presence, choosing to challenge his audience rather than dazzle them. The real brains behind it all is Cutter (Michael Caine), the craftsman and adviser who builds all the apparatus and devices required for the increasingly elaborate tricks. After a Milton performance goes fatally wrong, Angier and Borden begin a personal and professional rivalry that will play out over the years. They sabotage each other's shows, steal secrets, and try to perfect the ultimate magic trick: The Transported Man.
Cutter explains the three-step theory on what makes a great illusion. There's the pledge (the set-up), the turn (the moment that grabs the audience's attention), and the prestige (the pay-off, when whatever has been disappeared is brought back again). It's what separates a jaw-dropping, head-scratching moment from a cheap card trick, and is precisely what separates the The Prestige from The Illusionist. Nolan truly understands the mechanics behind the prestige, after all, he toyed with our expectations and our perception of time with Memento. He wraps The Prestige up in a cloak of mystery, employing time-jumps and subtle camera tricks to keep the audience constantly engaged in trying to piece everything together. Nearly everything is key to unlocking the film's secrets, even the seemingly routine sub-plots involving Borden's wife (played by Rebecca Hall) and glamorous new assistant Olivia (Scarlett Johansson struggling with an English accent).
The inclusion of David Bowie's Nikola Tesla and Angier's quest to convince the engineer and physicist to build him a machine required to pull off the ultimate trick may be a step too far for some viewers. Tesla's involvement stretches science into the supernatural, and clashes with the grounded world built up until this point. But Bowie is terrific, and the frequent presence of Thomas Edison's goons offers some historical context, as well as an allegory for the obsessive rivalry between the two central characters. Jackman is very good at switching between hero and anti-hero, his hands increasingly dirtied trying to outmanoeuvre his rival, and while Bale can add Borden to his list of grating accents, he wins our sympathies despite the coldest of demeanours. Caine, Nolan's go-to exposition tool, also provides reliable support as the fatherly voice of reason, However, the real stars are the brothers Nolan, who arguably lay all their cards on the table in the opening scenes, for anybody paying close attention. But pay attention or not, you'll be swept up either way.
When I first saw Alfonso Cuaron's Children of Men 10 years ago, I loved it for its kinetic action and terrifying vision of a world devoid of newborns, made to feel closer to home by the fact that it was set in England. The grim near-future it depicted (set in 2027) felt authentic, with the lack of flying cars, fancy gadgets and futuristic fashion sense making for a more grounded experience. But it felt a world away. Ten years on, the film's unglamorous and sobering scenes of terrorism and refugee overcrowding takes on a whole new level of prescience. Switch on the news now and chances are you'll see footage similar to the grey landscape of Children of Men.
Activist turned paper-pusher Theo (Clive Owen) cynically drinks away his days, with the United Kingdom now one of the few safe havens left in the world, albeit a police state struggling to cope with the influx of migrants. He is kidnapped by militant group the Fishes, led by Theo's former lover Julian (Julianne Moore), and is forced to use his influence within the government to acquire transit papers for a young immigrant named Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey). With the Fishes' motivations somewhat unclear and divided, Theo flees with Kee and nurse Miriam (Pam Ferris) through hostile terrain in the hope of delivering her to a group dedicated to curing infertility.
Politics and social awareness aside, the action more than holds up to today's standards, with three-Oscars-in-a-row cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki's long takes and swirling camera still managing to take the breath away. In the films best sequence, Theo, Julian, Kee and Fishes muscle Luke (Chiwetel Ejiofor) are subject to a surprise attack by an armed gang. Action nowadays tends to be edit-heavy with a hand-held camera blurring the proceedings, but Lubezki's fluid camerawork captures the immediacy of the situation while maintaining clarity. Mixing special effects and breathtaking choreography, it's a moment that terrifies, excites and shocks all at once. It is a technique that innovates without feeling gimmicky.
On a deeper note, Children of Men is not just a tale of caution, but also a study of what humanity desires of their children. Here, without children there is no hope. The youngest boy in the world has been stabbed to death, and the world has fallen into complete chaos with the sudden emergence of infertility. While some parents may view their children as an extension of their bloodline and a way to live on after death, some see them as the next generation with an opportunity to affect the world they will inherit. This sentiment is etched on Theo's face when Kee reveals her secret and his task becomes clear. As Theo, Owen proves why he was such a solid leading man for a brief time before retreating from the spotlight, and is backed by an subtly intimidating Ejiofor and a comic-relief Michael Caine as political cartoonist turned pot-grower Jasper. The real stars, however, are Cuaron and Lubezki, who have crafted a nightmarish vision that is both terrifyingly plausible and uncomfortably gripping.
It's easy to forget that the first time the world was introduced to Mike Myers' wonky-toothed and bespectacled British superspy back in 1997 with Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, precious few people went to see it. The film eventually gathered a huge following when it was released on VHS, and the formula was recycled again for the smash-hit sequel, The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999). The character and his arch-nemesis Dr. Evil are now so ingrained in popular culture that it's quite bizarre to think that you could once shout "oh, behave!" or "yeah, baby!" at a friend to receive a look of utter bewilderment in return.
The franchise proved so popular that its two sequels repeated the same gags and failed to really move the story on. Despite this obvious flaw, The Spy Who Shagged Me and the (as of 2016) final instalment Goldmember still managed to generate enough belly laughs to give them a pass, often relying on the irresistible comedic charm of its star Mike Myers. However, it was clear that the series was running out of steam by the time number 3 came around, as Goldmember remains the least funny of the trilogy, introducing a forgettable baddie in the form of the titular gold-obsessed, skin-munching Dutch supervillain, also played by Myers.
Yet the film kicks off with the greatest gag of all the movies. Just as we think we're watching an over-the-top set-piece from one of Austin's missions, its soon revealed to be a movie within a movie, with Tom Cruise wearing the spectacles and Kevin Spacey as Dr. Evil. We are then treated to the expectedly ridiculous, but entirely endearing, opening dance sequence, this time involving Britney Spears. Its a level of hilarity that the remainder of the movie sadly fails to maintain. For the first time we get to meet Austin's father in the form of Michael Caine, and Beyonce Knowles donning an impressive afro and plenty of sass as Foxxy Cleopatra, in a loving tribute to blaxploitation.
The bulk of the movie consists of the characters being restrained by their own eccentricities, which after two previous movies starts to stretch the humour a bit thin. Like Fat Bastard from the second entry, Goldmember is a one-joke character when the joke isn't that funny to begin with. His innuendos and disgusting habit repulse to the point of being simply unpleasant. Its at its best when it sticks to what made the franchise so loveable to begin with - the Bond pastiches. There's a ludicrous masterplan in there somewhere and the scenes in which Austin and Evil go face-to-face are as priceless as ever, but when Myers tries to insert some dramatic weight to the mix involving Austin's daddy issues the movie starts to drag. By the end, its clear that he picked the right time to wave goodbye to his most successful character (although he hasn't had much luck since).
Manners. Maketh. Man. So says the dapperly-dressed secret agent Harry Hart (Colin Firth), right before he bars all exits and proceeds to glass, stab and maim an assortment of goons in that most British of locales, the pub. Kingsman, the latest film from Layer Cake (2004) and X-Men: First Class (2011) director Matthew Vaughn, and his second collaboration with comic-book writer Mark Millar (after 2010's Kick-Ass), is both completely preposterous and ridiculously entertaining, simultaneously mocking and paying homage to the traditional idea of Britishness in an ever-changing society, and no doubt infuriating many a Daily Mail reader in the process.
Harry Hart, a Harry Palmer-like gent, is a Kingsman; a highly secretive and unaligned ring of spies and agents who dress sharply and certainly know their manners. After an operation to rescue Professor Arnold (Mark Hamill) from a possible kidnapping plot sees one Kingsman agent disposed of in a particularly gruesome fashion, Harry is tasked with finding a replacement to fill the spot. The son of a former agent who saved Harry's life years previously, Eggsy (Taron Egerton), is now growing up in a council flat with his layabout mother and abusive stepfather. After a joyride lands him in the police station, Eggsy calls the number on the back of a Kingsman medal given to him by Harry when he was a child, and he is bailed.
Harry enters Eggsy into the trials to become a Kingsman agent along with a bunch of upper-class toffs who refer to Eggsy as a 'pleb'. The group of youngsters must perform a series of tasks under the watchful eye of Merlin (Mark Strong), involving escaping from a flooded room and shooting a dog in the head. Meanwhile, Harry investigates links from recent strange events to internet billionaire Richmond Valentine (Samuel L. Jackson), a flamboyant man with a lisp and a fondness for wearing caps indoors. whose upcoming deal to offer SIM cards with free calls and internet to everybody for free reeks of conspiracy and may be related to an incident involving an exploding head.
When Harry and Valentine have their inevitable face-to-face sit-down moment, the two munch on Big Macs at Valentine's hideously decorated mansion while discussing the joys of the ludicrous Bond movies of old, when things weren't taken so seriously. Kingsman is an obvious Bond pastiche, with deadly gadgets, a henchman wielding an unconventional weapon (in this case - knives for feet), and an outrageous villain. It even comes as a surprise when Firth fails to raise an eyebrow while delivering a double entendre. It shows that these kinds of movies can still be fun without the shadow of uber-seriousness seen in the Daniel Craig Bond's and the recent Bourne movies lurking overhead, while telling the people who will be inevitably offended by the spurts of shocking violence to get a grip and remember that it's only a movie.
However, it did little to prepare me for the movie's key set-piece, which involves a church in Kentucky inhabited by a group of bigoted, right-wing religious types - and Harry - indulge in what can only be described as a pub-brawl massacre. I have never witnessed a scene that would usually be portrayed as a tragedy executed with such glee, with Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird blaring out while men and women are stabbed, shot, bludgeoned, set on fire and, in one particularly grisly moment, get slammed into a wall so hard it snaps their spine in two. It seems to go on and on, but it's an absolutely thrilling moment stocked full of cartoon violence, and will no doubt making some viewers expecting a light and funny experience wholly uncomfortable in the process.
It's sadly not all great. Eggsy's recruitment and training is formulaic and none of the tasks are particularly original or clever. This period of the film also keeps Eggsy and Harry apart for most of it, when their few scenes crackle with chemistry. But ultimately, Kingsman is an intriguing experience. bending to generic tropes while seemingly playing by its own rules. Firth displays a comedic willingness rarely seen and Egerton, who has popped up from nowhere, is a real find as the swaggering Eggsy, a baseball-cap wearing yoof who calls people 'bruv', who in most actors hands would have come across as extremely annoying. Kingsman dabbles in enough extreme violence to cause most viewers to question what they really enjoy seeing on screen, and it's a throwback with a modern twist, celebrating the days when movies could be fun, inexplicable and inconsequential, Just don't watch it with your nan.
Bob Hoskins' performance in Mona Lisa is usually highly praised and spoken in the same breath as his portrayal of hood boss Harold Shand in The Long Good Friday (1980). But apart from their shady dealings within the British criminal underworld, their characters couldn't be more different. Where Harold was an old-fashioned, respectable gangster who had excelled in his business now looking to go straight, Mona Lisa's George is a petty crook fresh out of a long stretch in prison. They are both fascinating, detailed portrayal's, but I feel George is the more complex performance, serving as a sad reminder of the fact that the world lost one of it's finest actors last year.
Thrust back into a world that seems to evolved without him, George manages to land a job driving call girls from client to client. His first customer is Simon (Cathy Tyson), a beautiful, upper-end call girl who clashes with George's bull-headed personality. She gives him money to buy some decent clothes, and he shows up in a Hawaiian shirt and leather jacket. With time, their differences become their bond, and Simone asks George to help her find her old friend, a young girl named Cathy (Kate Hardie), who is still in the hands of a sadistic pimp (played by The Wire's Clarke Peters). Meanwhile, George's old boss Denny Mortwell (Michael Caine) is suspicious of their activities and demands that George provide information on Simone.
The movie doesn't go over-the-top with its depiction of the capital's seedy underbelly, but is far more subtle in the way it plays on our expectations. We're all aware of the presence of prostitutes in practically every town in the country, but do we ever really consider what they spend their money on? How they are treated? Where do they sleep at night? We glimpse the true barbarism behind the red lights here, something that George finds difficult to deal with. However, the film is by no means grim, with an excellent script by director Neil Jordan and David Leland providing many amusing moments, particularly in the exchanges between George and his detective story-loving friend Thomas (Robbie Coltrane).
The performances are excellent all round. Hoskins is a rather loveable lunk, proving to be almost insistent at drawing unwanted attention to himself and Simone; at complete odds with this new world he stumbles across. He's the type of guy who asks for a cup of tea at a strip club. Tyson too (what happened to her?) projects real vulnerability under her mask of confidence and beauty. When the movie shifts from drama to thriller in the last third, Caine becomes a menacing presence with a unnerving lack of emotion. All the filth we witness is all just business to him. By the end, as what I initially thought was a character-driven relationship drama turned into something else entirely, the film had subverted my expectations so much that I had to just sit back and admire.
Christopher Nolan and his writing partner/brother Jonathan have made a career out of delivering cold, intelligent blockbusters that often work like a puzzle-box slowly unravelling in front of your face. For their next trick, the duo have tackled the great beyond, gazing in awe at the skies while ensuring the heavy layer of science makes sense. You may need a degree or a PhD to fully understand what is going on here, but the Nolan's respect their audience enough to allow their exposition-heavy story to unfold without spoon-feeding. Interstellar is their most ambitious, while not their best, project yet.
In the near-future, Earth is slowly succumbing to famine due to crop blight. History is being re-written in schools to drive home the importance of saving the planet, and ex-NASA pilot Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) is one of many given the responsibility of growing a successful crop. When a mysterious force sends binary messages to him through a bookcase in the bedroom of his daughter Murph (Mackenzie Foy), Cooper arrives at a secret NASA base, where Professor John Brand (Michael Caine) is planning to send a willing crew of astronauts through a wormhole in space to search for a new home for humanity. Their previous mission has uncovered three potential planets, but the astronauts have not been heard from since.
Cooper, leaving his devastated young daughter behind, and a small crew (consisting of Anne Hathaway, Wes Bentley, David Gyasi and a humorous robot) set off on the mission, while Brand stays on Earth to work out the formula that will solve the problem of transporting every man, woman and child on Earth millions of light years through space. One of the planets is so close to a black hole that it causes gravitational time dilation, meaning that every hour spent on its surface is seven years of time back home. After a disastrous mission, Coop finds that his children have aged 23 years (and becoming Jessica Chastain and Casey Affleck in the process), and Murph is now working for Professor Brand.
While this is a lot of plot to take in, and it really isn't the half of it, the Nolans' skill at storytelling and narrative mean that you feel that, no matter how insane the proceedings get, things are going to add up in the end. When the film often threatens to get muddled with heavy explanatory dialogue that doesn't really help and trying to help us understand the workings of black holes, gravity and space travel, Nolan ensures that he doesn't lose his focus. The big idea is that we are not meant to stay here. We are destined to leave, explore and discover. Nolan's passion for the subject is clear as day, and his sense of wonder is brought to life by cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema, who paints space as something wonderful, strange, and fucking terrifying.
Despite the film's often crazy ideas, it feels authentic. Nolan worked closely with theoretical physicist Kip Thorne on developing the film, so Interstellar is (ironically) grounded, and Nolan wisely doesn't try to replicate the philosophical approach of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). It's far from perfect - you could easily pick at plot-(black)holes, some explanatory scenes are heavy-handed and ridiculous, and the warm-up is far too long - but you have to admire the ambition, and be grateful that there's a film-maker out there who can repeatedly prove that the casual movie-goer isn't stupid. 2001's crown is comfortably safe, but Interstellar is a fascinating, engaging and one-of-a-kind experience. Even if you don't like it, I bet you'll be talking about it for days afterwards. Plus it has the most loveable astronaut's-best-friend robots since Silent Running (1972).
Oliver Stone's second feature film, The Hand is an effective horror yarn based on a novel by Marc Brandell. In an early scene the psychological themes that weave through this narrative are highlighted. Jonathan Lansdale's (Michael Caine) daughter, Lizzie (Mara Hobel), pokes the tail of a lizard, as her stick gets closer, the tail writhes. She questions her fathers explanation that it is reflex, as it stops once danger (the stick) is moved away. The original title of the novel was 'The Lizard's Tail', and it is this that sets up the idea of amputee psychological connections; an exploration of ideas perpetuated, and fetishised by the real-life condition experienced by amputees, phantom limb syndrome. (This is a condition where the sensation of - in this example - hand and fingers, can still be felt, despite the limbs absence.)
Caine is a comic book artist, and in a freak car accident, he loses his right hand. After a search the hand is never discovered. With his career over, he moves away from New York to teach, his wife Anne (Andrea Marcovicci), and daughter stay behind. As Jon embarks on a sexual affair with one of his students, Stella (Annie McEnroe), and as Jon's angers erupt, it seems that his hand carries out revenge. The most effective scene in the film, one that is clearly, and brilliantly directed, acted and lit, is in Jon's cabin garage, police stand around sweating. They report a funny smell, and Jon is quizzed as to what is in the truck of his car. It's a thoroughly atmospheric sequence.
The plot is, of course, completely silly, but it actually works quite well. It does have moments of great mood, helped by James Horner's score, and the visual effects by Carlo Rambaldi - the severed hand mostly effective, as "good-FX-their-the-time. Embellishing the phantom limb syndrome concept is a delicious little idea, and perfectly fits within the context of many horror films of the time. It has elements of Stephen King, James Herbert, and certainly takes influence from the famous EC comics of the 1950's, and this modern mixture of efficient horror, gore, and a little splash of Jungian psychoanalytical character psychosis works well as an adequate chiller.
Oh, Peter Benchley, did you ever write a narrative that didn't involve the ocean in some manner? Well, no! After the huge success of his fishy saga, Jaws (both book and the massively superior film), his output was generic to say the least. The Deep (1977) was a story of deep sea divers, Hunters of the Reef (1978), is self-explanatory, and The Beast (1996), also incredibly obvious. And here, The Island, is a story of the high seas, of quasi-seventeenth century pirates, living in obscurity in modern-day Bahamas. A promising opening sees a crew of boat-dwellers being attacked, with all the gruesome and graphic horror of axes plunging into heads (reminiscent of the opening of John Carpenter's The Fog (1980 - Review #268) - but without the supernatural elements).
The opening sequence turns out to be a spate of mysterious "boat" disappearances, much like the Bermuda triangle enigma. Blair Maynard (Michael Caine), a New York journalist (of "Limey" origin), sets out for the island of Navidad with his son Justin (Jeffrey Frank). After a dramatic entrance to the island, they charter a boat for a father-son fishing trip, where they are kidnapped by pirates, headed by John (the always watchable David Warner). The son is bizarrely indoctrinated into the gang immediately, and he becomes instantly suspicious of his father (?). Did daddy not take you to Disneyland? Typical civilised children!
It's a pretty banal affair that becomes tiresome and predictable. Warner does bring his usual charm to the screen, but even he struggles with a tedious script. His pirate gang is littered with familiar faces (Dudley Sutton, Frank Middlemass, Don Henderson), and there are even some relatively humorous dialogue. For example, after the boarding of a boat, the female pirate, Beth (Angela Punch McGregor), asks what the white powder on the floor is. Blair answers: "It's medicine called cocaine." Beth: "What does it cure?" Blair: "Insecurity." However, this does not save a dubious affair, despite some competent direction from Michael Ritchie, who had previously worked on The Candidate (1972).
After a four-year wait, Christopher Nolan's epic Batman trilogy comes to a close to be inevitably branded the greatest superhero trilogy ever made. Even with the films growing increasingly darker and less traditional in the blockbuster sense, Warner Bros. gave Nolan free reign following the huge success of The Dark Knight (2008), both critically and commercially, and he has truly delivered once again with this shockingly intense and often quite unpleasant action-drama. This is a superhero film with no superhero, and a Batman film without Batman for very long periods. Unconventional in every sense, it often feels like it shares the epic scope of TV series The Wire, threading together multiple plots and sub-plots to form a vast story of a city in turmoil, and a man pushing himself to the limits of his capability.
Picking up eight years after The Dark Knight, Lt. Gordon (Gary Oldman) honours the legacy of Harvey Dent, torn at holding the truth of Dent's insanity and demise from the optimistic citizens. Gotham City's streets are almost completely free of crime, with the exiled Batman (Christian Bale) still public enemy number one following his decision to take the blame for Dent's crimes. As a result of this, Bruce Wayne is living a reclusive life behind the walls of his empty mansion, crippled due to his years as Batman. Arriving in Gotham is missionary Bane (Tom Hardy), a hulking terrorist intent on bringing down the city's stock exchange and punishing the rich for their social crimes. Wayne decides to don the suit once again, and learns about Bane through cat burglar Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), only to find that he is more than Batman's match both physically and mentally.
Like the first sequel, it's difficult to sum up the film's labyrinth plot. I haven't even mentioned two of the film's new characters or covered anything relating to their story arcs which truly sums up the complexity and depth to Nolan's story. Wayne Enterprises is invested in a clean energy project, headed by Miranda (Marion Cotillard), who have developed a machine that could harness fusion power, which with modification, could be used as a nuclear weapon. Naturally, Bane sees this as the perfect thing to steal in order to bring destruction to Gotham. And with Gordon hospitalised by Bane, rookie cop Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a young man who idolises Batman and knows the truth of his identity, is promoted to detective in order to investigate Bane's intentions and his link to Wayne Enterprises board member Daggett (Ben Mendelsohn).
If all this sounds confusing, then it kinda is. The first forty minutes or so is slow-moving, and is busy jumping between characters new and old, and setting up many sub-plots. It is admittedly a lot to take in, and Nolan doesn't quite have as full a grasp of the narrative as he had with the first two movies. Thankfully, when Bane is introduced and things start to kick off, it is quite difficult to care too much. This is, after all, fifteen minutes shy of three hours long, so there's plenty of time to pack the film. And Bane proves a hugely effective new villain, and although he would always suffer in comparison to Heath Ledger's Joker, Tom Hardy's creation is a formidable monster.
To give Batman his ultimate test, Nolan has given Bane the physically of a gorilla and the voice of a muffled Sean Connery. If that doesn't sound exactly scary, well, he is. His first meeting with Batman leads to the most brutal and ugliest fight ever created. There is nothing remotely elegant about Bane, he uses fists, knees, elbows and his forehead to batter his opponents to a bloody pulp, without showing a flicker of remorse or even acknowledgement. There have been criticisms stating that Bane is difficult to understand under his metallic mask, but although it is quite strange at first, his voice is hugely effective, rattling the cinema's speakers to the point where I actually felt uncomfortable watching him. He is not as layered or quite as memorable as the Joker, but his presence is undeniable, and Hardy deserves every accolade he gets.
This is by far the most emotional of the trilogy, with Wayne facing almost certain death coming up against Bane. Bale gives his finest performance as Wayne, and his scenes with loyal butler Alfred (Michael Caine), who wants nothing more than to see Wayne lead a normal, happy life, prove profoundly moving, with Caine giving a sensational performance. It is Selina Kyle who ultimately brings Wayne out of his nest, and it was her character that gave me the most concerns going into this film. My fears were, sadly, justified, as Kyle proves to be character giving the cheesy one-liners and ends up being a distraction and a slight contradiction to Nolan's dark, grounded Batman universe. Hathaway is brilliant in the role, proving as sexy and as sly as you want Catwoman to be, but it is ultimately the character that annoys.
But in the end, the flaws become a minor blip in what is ultimately a sensational climax to a truly great trilogy. This is not a fun film, and although it is packed with action scenes as exciting and absorbing as anything I've ever seen (the massive climax is mind-blowing), I found it quite psychologically tormenting. This is a superhero movie where police officer's are massacred, a character's skull is crushed with bare hands, and the film's hero is given one of the most severe beatings in recent memory. As good as I could have ever hoped the film to be in the wake of its admittedly superior predecessor, and a finale that will cement Christopher Nolan's vision as one of the greatest creations in big-budget film-making, and a historic stepping stone for the future of blockbusters.
After the little teaser at the end of Batman Begins (2005) which saw Lt. Gordon (Gary Oldman) show Batman (Christian Bale) a Joker card, signalling a new criminal in town, Christopher Nolan faced the task of bringing one of the most colourful and charismatic, and downright evil and psychopathic, villains in comic-book history to the screen. The role would always be Jack Nicholson's, who brought an eccentric performance in Tim Burton's original Batman (1989), but Nolan had a different take in mind. He was to go back to the roots of the Joker to find what really made him tick. Then he cast Heath Ledger, and the rest was history.
After Batman set out to inspire others to rise up against crime in the first film, Gotham City has a new 'white knight' in the shape of new District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) who faces the challenge of taking down mob kingpin Maroni (Eric Roberts). Chinese accountant Lau (Chin Han) informs Maroni and his crew he has hidden the money they have been laundering through his banks as Dent and Lt. Gordon come down on them. Fleeing to China, Batman uses unorthodox means to bring him to back for questioning. Meanwhile, the psychotic Joker (Ledger), who has been stealing the mobs money, convinces them to employ him to kill Batman, and sets about causing anarchy across the city, promising to kill someone every day until Batman reveals his true identity.
Summing up the film's plot in a few sentences does not do The Dark Knight justice. Nolan has not made a superhero film here, instead he has created a colossal crime story that has more in common with Michael Mann's Heat (1995) than anything produced by Marvel in recent years. It's quite astonishing how he has managed to pack so much plot and incident into its 140 minute running time without ever losing focus, and keeping the film packed with exceptional set-pieces. If Begins felt slightly amateurish at times in terms of action cinema, Nolan has strutted into this film and given us clear and crisp scenes of bone-crunching fighting, as Batman carves his way through henchmen.
Yet the film will always be remembered for one thing, and that is Heath Ledger's Joker. His casting raised eyebrows at the time, wondering if the fuzzy-haired pretty boy from teen comedy 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) could take the mantle from Jack Nicholson and bring such a wild character into Nolan's grounded Batman universe. He answered his critics with aplomb, creating a now iconic character that will remain possibly the greatest villain ever created in cinema. His red smile has been replaced by large swollen scars, his green hair is greasy and badly maintained, his make-up patched with sweat, and his clothes tatty. "Gotham City deserves a better class of criminal, and I'm gonna give it to them," he says as he sets alight a stack of cash almost double his height. This is a Joker that cares about nothing but anarchy, having no ultimate purpose or goal.
Although the Joker steals the show, this is still Batman's film, with Nolan this time drawing on the similarities between the two characters. They are both freaks and outcasts, as the Joker points out, yet where Batman is fighting a seemingly ill-fated battle against a Gotham that has descended into chaos, the Joker embraces his place in the world as an outsider. In one exceptional scene, Batman interrogates him in a police cell, losing his code and battering the truth out of the Joker. Although Bale's ridiculous gravel-voiced Dark Knight will be parodied, Bale is again outstanding, switching between Patrick Bateman-esque arrogance as he puts on his playboy mask, and the tortured soul, watching his love Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal, replacing Katie Holmes) fall in love with Harvey Dent as he sacrifices himself for the sake of the city.
The supporting cast are solid and reliable as ever, with Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and Gary Oldman bringing some real weight to the film. Aaron Eckhart, an actor I've felt has gone unappreciated for years after seeing him in the excellent In The Company of Men (1997), is a revelation as Dent. He is a man the city put their hopes into and is determined to make a difference, but the Joker's mayhem tests his sanity and his sense of justice, turning him into the twisted Two-Face (a role made ridiculous by Tommy Lee Jones in Batman Forever (1995)).
I watched this again for what must be the sixth time, and the first time I've seen it for some time, and was possibly blown away even more than any other viewing. Perhaps this time I was able to grasp the sheer scope and vision of Nolan's world, with he and his brother's screenplay being just as sharp as anything else that year, and the action scenes (which employ minimal CGI) simply explosive. But it is Ledger, ultimately, that will linger in the mind long after the credits roll, from his disappearing pencil magic trick, to his final monologue, his performance is beyond words, and wholly deserved his posthumous Academy Award. I highly doubt The Dark Knight Rises (2012) will surpass this film, but how could it? This is, after all, the greatest superhero film ever made, and I would assume will ever be.
Back in 1997, when the Batman franchise was given a thorough anal-raping and given cinema AIDS by director Joel Schumacher with the preposterous Batman & Robin, fans and audiences alike were left wondering if there was any hope left for one of the darkest and most complex 'superhero' characters in the comic-book world. Come 2005, up to this point, British director Christopher Nolan was still a relative maverick, having made indie breakthrough Following (1998), the mind-bending critical hit Memento (2000), and the solid re-make Insomnia (2002). Few realised that they were about to witness a re-defining of not only comic book adaptations, but blockbusters themselves.
We first meet Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) in a Bhutanese prison, where he is approached by the mysterious Ducard (Liam Neeson) who offers him a chance to learn to fight with the League of Shadows, a generations-old group that punishes criminality with an iron fist. As he trains, we learn about Wayne's childhood, where after falling into a well and developing a phobia of bats, witnesses his parents' murder. Returning to a Gotham believing him dead and in a state of utter tutmoil, he turns to faithful butler Alfred (Michael Caine) and Wayne Enterprises' weapons developer Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) to turn him into a vigilante crime-fighter and a symbol of a stance against crime. He finds his childhood friend Rachel (Katie Holmes), the assistant district attorney, caught up in a scheme ran by Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy) to get mob boss Falcone's (Tom Wilkinson) thugs off with insanity pleas.
Tim Burton's once-definitive Batman (1989) made the mistake of having the film's villain The Joker engulf the majority of the film, keeping Michael Keaton's Batman almost in the background. Nolan knows that this is Batman's story, and wisely keeps the focus on Bale's anger-fuelled, guilt-ridden, and honourable leading character. In the hands of Nolan, Batman's origins are given the complexity it deserves, shifting back and forward in time to reveal more pieces to his jigsaw. This is no wise-cracking, tights-wearing Batman; when we meet him, he is giving a bunch of prison thugs a thorough beating, snapped legs and all. With the hugely talented Bale in the role, his character is given the weight it deserves - this is Nolan's world, and it is violent, real, and usually pissing down with rain.
As the norm since this film's release, Nolan has managed to gather a hugely-talented ensemble cast (and mainly British). While there is no obligatory main villain that may be a problem in anybody's else's hands, Nolan has instead given us a criminal ring for Batman to fight, from Wilkinson's ruthless crime boss, to Murphy's genuinely unsettling Scarecrow, who likes to fire his hallucinogenic poison in his victims' faces before donning his 'mask' (leading some some fine trippy moments). There is also Ra's Al-Ghul (Ken Watanabe), who plans to destroy Gotham along with Neeson's Ducard by infecting Gotham's water supply. With Gary Oldman's cop Jim Gordon, and Holmes' Rachel Dawes also in the mix, it may seem dangerously over-supplied with characters, but Nolan knows fully well how to handle such a large cast, tying their stories together with fine precision.
Having seen The Dark Knight (2008) and eagerly anticipating The Dark Knight Rises (2012), this admittedly pales in comparison, being that The Dark Knight was a phenomenal leap forward in big-budget film-making and an iconic film that will no doubt be remembered as one of the best of its decade. Also, the action scenes here are quickly-edited and shaky to the point where it is hard to tell what is happening, but Nolan would step up in confidence with the film's sequel and the proceeding Inception (2010). But as superhero origin stories go, this is probably second only to Superman (1978), and a welcome kick up the arse for one of the most enticing comic-book heroes in existence.
Now a four-time Piston Cup champion, the world-famous Lightning McQueen returns to Radiator Springs to see his old friends, much to the delight of best chum Mater (Larry the Cable Guy). However, formula champion Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro) challenges McQueen to join him in the World Grand Prix, an event created by Sir Miles Axelrod (Eddie Izzard) to advertise his new fuel Allinol. McQueen, along with Mater, Luigi (Tony Shalhoub), Guido (Guido Quaroni), Fillmore (Lloyd Sherr) and Sarge (Paul Dooley), heads to Tokyo, where Mater's buffoonish behaviour starts to grate on the racing star. Meanwhile, weapons designer Professor Zundapp (Thomas Kretschmann) and his cronies are taking out cars using an electromagnetic pulse in an attempt to scupper Axelrod's plans and secure oil profits. This catches the attention of international super-spy Finn McMissile (Michael Caine) and his partner Holley Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer), who mistake Mater for a fellow spy and hire the clueless tow truck to help with their mission.
