Genre: Adaptation

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Oh, Yeah. Oooh, Ahhh, That’s How It Always Starts. Then Later There’s Running and Screaming…” – Dr. Ian Malcolm

Strangely dubbed; The Lost World: Jurassic Park, a title that appears to be out of order in its literary arrangement. This adventurous sequel to the timeless classic; Jurassic Park, released in 1993, was once among the most anticipated films of the 1990s. Yet, upon its initial release in 1997, The Lost World: Jurassic Park disappointed many for not living up to the lofty expectations set by the original, including Spielberg himself, who expressed disappointment with the film after becoming increasingly disenchanted with it during production. Nevertheless, I have always considered The Lost World: Jurassic Park somewhat underrated, harbouring an intriguing story and a more foreboding tone/aesthetic, which offsets some of its screenplay-centric faults.

Plot Summary: Four years after the catastrophe of Jurassic Park, the now-humbled John Hammond, strives to redeem himself by studying the well-being of the dinosaurs roaming free on InGen’s secondary site for bio-engineering, the secluded island of Isla Sorna. While assembling his team for this study, Hammond contacts the reluctant Dr. Ian Malcolm to convince him to join the expedition. Meanwhile, Hammond’s ignorant nephew, Peter Ludlow, intends to use his newly-obtained position as the CEO of InGen to capture as many of the island’s prehistoric species as possible for a new attraction opening in central San Diego…

Similar to the original film, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is loosely based on the novel of the same name by Michael Crichton and helmed by celebrated director Steven Spielberg. So, as is to be expected, under this masterful direction, The Lost World: Jurassic Park boasts several edge-of-your-seat moments, the stand-outs of which are a scene that features a Tyrannosaurus Rex tandem bashing a mobile trailer over a cliff, as well as a sequence in which a Tyrannosaurus Rex rampages through San Diego destroying everything in its path, swiftly morphing the audience’s perception of dinosaurs from captivating, awe-inspiring creatures to truly terrifying prehistoric beasts, following the incident on Isla Nublar. However, as the runtime continues, it becomes increasingly evident that Spielberg desperately wanted to integrate as many of his own ideas into the framework of Crichton’s sequel novel as he could. A desire that ultimately results in the narrative becoming unfocused, eventually losing itself almost entirely near the end of the second act to concentrate on exciting dinosaur sequences.

Returning from the original film is Jeff Goldblum as Dr. Ian Malcolm, the remarkably entertaining pessimistic mathematician with a dry sense of humour. Accompanying Malcolm this time around is his adolescent daughter, Kelly Curtis, portrayed by Vanessa Lee Chester, and his palaeontologist girlfriend, Sarah Harding, portrayed by Julianne Moore, in addition to the other members of Hammond’s research team; wildlife photographer, Nick Van Owen, portrayed by Vince Vaughn, and tech expert, Eddie Carr, portrayed by Richard Schiff. Whilst every cast member turns in a solid performance, however, there is undoubtedly a lack of well-defined characters in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, as every character has a shortage of development beyond the dexterities they bring to their team. Roland Tembo, portrayed by the late Pete Postlethwaite, is perhaps the most compelling character of this particular entry in the series, being depicted as a jaded big-game hunter, determined to capture a male Tyrannosaurus Rex, single-handedly.

Swapping out the tidied facilities and tropical foliage of Jurassic Park for dim lighting, expansive forests and more intense violence, The Lost World: Jurassic Park‘s visuals are substantially darker than its predecessor, corresponding with the more downbeat tone of the narrative. Furthermore, the cinematography by Janusz Kaminski retains a tremendous sense of movement, while the film’s abundant use of marvellous CG effects, detailed miniatures and impressive life-sized animatronics effectively bring the dinosaurs (and a handful of locations) to life, all whilst demonstrating how far CGI had come since the first instalment in the franchise in ’93.

Once again composed by John Williams, the original score for The Lost World: Jurassic Park only contains minor hints towards the iconic theme and secondary motifs of Jurassic Park. Instead, the score houses much of its own appeal (not too dissimilar to how the visuals differ from the original film) as Williams constructs a different thematic and textural landscape for InGen’s Site B, a.k.a. Isla Sorna. As such, the soundtrack sheds much of the amazement and beauty of John Hammond’s prehistoric theme park for a more ominous soundscape. Excluding the film’s unfairly neglected theme; The Lost World, which is more wildlife adventure-inspired.

On a separate note, whilst its amusing to see franchise-staple dinosaurs like the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the Velociraptors return in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, I’ve always felt its a shame the filmmakers didn’t attempt to introduce a selection of lesser-known dinosaurs, especially with how many fantastic choices there are, as the carnivorous Alioramus, Majungasaurus and Spinosaurus (which would later appear in 2001’s Jurassic Park III), all would’ve served as significant threats and upped the ante for this much-anticipated sequel. 

In summary, while it truthfully does pale in comparison to the original film, there is plenty to appreciate about The Lost World: Jurassic Park when viewed from a different perspective, as the film retains an overabundance of spectacle and exceptional visual effects, affirmed by the film’s Academy Award nomination for Best Visual Effects in 1998. Essentially, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is a perfect example of just how difficult it can be to craft an engaging sequel to a beloved cinema-altering blockbuster. Rating: 6/10.

the_lost_world_jurassic_park-p196804

Men in Black: International (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Always Remember: The Universe Has a Way of Leading You to Where You’re Supposed to Be at the Moment You’re Supposed to Be There.” – Agent High T

Emerging several years after the entertaining yet faulty; Men in Black 3, Men in Black: International, released in 2019, serves as a soft reboot of the series, aiming to bring the undisclosed extraterrestrial defenders back for another similarly amusing, alien-blasting adventure. However, predominantly due to its outlandish story, trite humour and absurdly horrendous dialogue, Men in Black: International rarely reaches the heights of the 1997 sci-fi-comedy classic, nor the later, lesser entries in the well-known franchise, even with its noteworthy stars of Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson carrying over much of their on-screen chemistry from 2017’s Thor: Ragnarok.

Plot Summary: After sharing an eye-opening encounter with an extraterrestrial as a child, Agent M, the M.I.B.’s newest probationary recruit, finds herself under the wing of Agent H, a past-his-prime hero of the closemouthed organisation, operating at the London branch. Meanwhile, a duo of shape-shifting alien assassins arrive on Earth, seeking a devastating super-weapon that could place the entire galaxy at risk…

Based on The Men in Black comic book series, created and written by Lowell Cunningham. Men in Black: International is the first film in the franchise not directed by Barry Sonnenfeld. Instead, the film was directed by F. Gary Gray (Friday, The Negotiator, Straight Outta Compton), making Men in Black: International the second Gray-directed sequel to a Sonnenfeld flick, the first being; Be Cool in 2005, a sequel to 1995’s Get Shorty. Needless to say, this change in leadership (and screenwriters) could be seen as more of a negative than a positive, as the film lacks much of the disturbing violence and revolting practical effects present in the original trilogy as extensively as the satire. Furthermore, Men in Black: International‘s narrative leaves much to be desired, appearing overly simplistic and somehow equally convoluted, barring a couple of interesting concepts, such as a portal for transporting alien refugees or a mole within the M.I.B. organisation. The film is dragged down further by its ever-present cringy dialogue, which is near vomit-inducing in its many attempts to seem relevant. To its credit, Men in Black: International does, at least, manage to expand the universe of the films by introducing various international branches of the covert organisation, as its title suggests.

With Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones openly stating they would not return to the franchise for Men in Black: International, new leading actors/actresses had to be chosen. Still, they do appear in the film briefly, having long passed into legend as agents in a dramatised painting in the M.I.B. London head office. Regrettably, however, the revamped cast of Chris Hemsworth, Tessa Thompson, Liam Neeson, Rafe Spall and Rebecca Ferguson are continually overblown in their performances, bouncing from scene to scene with ample energy regardless of tone. This issue is only made worse by the characterisation, which frequently forgets to provide the characters with motivations for their actions or any semblance of depth beyond the basics we learn of them, with Agent H being the foolish, once-hotshot agent of M.I.B. having previously saved Earth from an extraterrestrial invasion, whilst Agent M has desired to be an agent of the organisation since she was young.

Immaculate and radiant yet unimaginative, the cinematography by Stuart Dryburgh shares more of a visual resemblance to superhero blockbusters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe than any previous Men in Black instalment. Likewise, dissimilar to earlier entries in the franchise, Men in Black: International‘s plethora of extraterrestrial designs are dreadfully cartoonish in appearance, lacking the individuality and repulsive naturality of the series’ previous designs, all of which are unfortunately brought to life exclusively via CGI, with very few costumes/prosthetic make-up pieces employed. Having said that, there is one exception to this defect; the designs of the primary antagonists, the Hive, who retain a visually striking design, taking on the appearance of luminous, orange star clusters in a human physique.

In keeping with the rest of the Men in Black series, the original score is composed by Danny Elfman and newby Chris Bacon, who strive to capture the same musical spirit as previous franchise instalments through tracks like Job Interview, Here Comes Trouble and End Credits. And, for the most part, the composers are successful in this goal as the score sounds reminiscent of the original trilogy’s soundtracks while thankfully avoiding any lousy endeavours to modernise the series’ iconic theme.

When it comes to the humour, it’s apparent that there is a hefty deficiency of wit and surprise within the screenplay. As a result, most of the jokes throughout the runtime are either sluggish, irritating or immature. Additionally, during one particular scene, set within a hidden, extraterrestrial-filled nightclub, there is a weirdly out-of-place gag where Agent H attempts to spitefully manipulate Agent M into pleasuring Vungus, a party-hungry alien visiting Earth, which will surely make some audience members feel uncomfortable.

In summary, the mere notion of a Men in Black revival without the presence of Smith or Jones seems like an unmistakably terrible idea, comparable to how another swashbuckling Pirates of the Caribbean sequel without Johnny Depp’s inclusion would seem incomplete, standalone story or not. Even with its original cast in attendance, however, Men in Black: International likely still would’ve failed on account of its many other shortcomings, grinding its cast’s chemistry through the gears of a sci-fi franchise running low on reasons to persist. Rating: 3/10.

men_in_black_international-p1107879

Oz the Great and Powerful (2013) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I Don’t Want to Be a Good Man, I Want to Be a Great One.” – Oscar ‘Oz’ Diggs

Since its release in 1939, the illustrious fantasy-musical; The Wizard of Oz, an adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s beloved children’s novel; The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, has been engraining itself into the memories of adults and youngsters alike through its catchy melodies, imaginative world-building and groundbreaking practical effects. In 2013, Walt Disney Pictures sought to return to the Land of Oz with Oz the Great and Powerful, a prequel to the novel and, in a way, its silver screen counterpart (despite ownership of the harmonious classic belonging to Warner Bros. Pictures), with celebrated director Sam Raimi (The Evil Dead, Spider-Man, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness) attached to helm the project, ascertaining its potential as an enchanted prequel. Shortly after its release, however, most seem to forget about the film, which is unfortunate given that Oz the Great and Powerful is a largely enjoyable fantasy adventure that pays homage to the iconography and timeless sense of wonder present in the original musical while avoiding an absence of its own, unique ideas.

Plot Summary: After Oscar ‘Oz’ Diggs, a small-time circus magician with dubious ethics, is hurled away from his dusty abode in Kansas to the vibrant Land of Oz, he believes he’s hit the jackpot as he’s told to assume his rightful place as monarch of Emerald City. But, when Oscar meets the sisters of Theodora and Evanora, who aren’t entirely convinced that he is the great wizard their prophecy has spoken of, Oscar is summoned on a quest to slay the Wicked Witch that threatens Oz and prove his worth…

Whilst Oz the Great and Powerful may seem like just another cinematic interpretation of the whimsical Land of Oz, Walt Disney Pictures actually had to be very cautious with what aspects of the story they utilised, on account of Warner Bros. Pictures owning the rights to specific elements of The Wizard of Oz, as previously mentioned, including the ruby slippers Dorothy Gale dons throughout the runtime. These restrictions even extended to the particular shade of green used for the Wicked Witch’s skin, for which Disney employed what its legal department considered a sufficiently different shade dubbed; “Theostein,” a portmanteau of Theodora and Frankenstein, yet Disney could not use the signature chin mole from Margaret Hamilton’s renowned portrayal of the Wicked Witch of the West.

In terms of the actual narrative, Oz the Great and Powerful tells the origin of the titular Wizard of Oz, whom we all know from previous iterations to be a fraud. Before he was viewed as a mythical wizard, Oscar Diggs was merely a talented illusionist and an egotistical, womanising con man performing at a travelling circus in Kansas. ‘Oz’ (as his friends call him) underpays his assistant and recruits many beautiful women to appear in his performances, manipulating them with lies and empty romantic gestures. However, while Oscar receives an abundance of characterisation during the story and is evidently a gifted magician, James Franco’s performance is primarily to blame for the character’s shortcomings, as Oscar suffers from an underbaked character arc and a lack of empathy in certain scenes, suggesting that Franco lacks the charisma necessary to win over the audience amid Oscar’s immense arrogance. Dissimilarly, the supporting cast of Mila Kunis, Rachel Weisz, Michelle Williams, Zach Braff and Joey King are all sufficient in their varied roles, human and otherwise.

Recreating imagery like the Yellow Brick Road and the Emerald City in addition to introducing a handful of never-before-seen locations, such as a miniature village compromised of larger-than-life crockery and ceramic residents, known as China Town. Oz the Great and Powerful impressively brings the Land of Oz to life via a combination of expansive sets and green screens. Similar to the original musical, Oz the Great and Powerful also opens in a colourless, tight aspect ratio for the Kansas sequences before widening out and blossoming into colour once Oscar enters the Land of Oz, making for an unforgettable visual juncture. Moreover, the cinematography by Peter Deming is frequently effective in implementing Sam Rami’s familiar style of camerawork, as the camera is repeatedly rocketing towards characters’ faces, particularly when they’re reacting to the surprising number of jump-scares.

Although the original score for Oz the Great and Powerful by Danny Elfman isn’t one of the composer’s finest, nor is it exceedingly memorable, tracks like Main Titles, A Strange World and The Bubble Voyage are all remarkably uplifting, whereas the orchestral tracks; Bad Witch and Witch Fight, are much more ominous in tone, allowing Elfman to exhibit his grand, gothically melodic roots.

On a separate note, all of the CG effects throughout Oz the Great and Powerful hold up well for their age, aside from a few wide shots where the environment surrounding the characters appears excessively distant and overly bright. And whenever physical sets are employed instead of green screens, they are magnificently multicoloured and extensive.

In summary, while Oz the Great and Powerful suffers from some tonal inconsistency and an underdeveloped character arc for its protagonist, the film retains enough spectacle, wit and creativity to be entertaining in its own right as a bewitched prequel. Faithfully reproducing iconic imagery like flying primates, a golden-bricked road and a cackling, broom-riding Wicked Witch, I feel nearly every fanatic of The Wizard of Oz (and/or its source material) will find amusement in this non-musical, fantasy blockbuster. Rating: low 7/10.

oz_the_great_and_powerful-p680832

The Devil All the Time (2020) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Blessed Are Those That Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness.” – Reverend Preston Teagardin

A gripping yet troubling exposé of a period in history that frequently appears overly sanitised, 2020’s The Devil All the Time is a superb Netflix Original that utilises its relentlessly grim narrative, stellar all-star cast and period-accurate song choices to explore an underused setting in cinema; Southern Ohio in the 1950s. And, as a result, the film crafts an engaging and thought-provoking tale of backwoods preachers, religious zealots and broken, weathered souls witnessing the atrocities of a post-war world, replenished with sins that even faith is unable to wash away.

Plot Summary: In 1950s-era rural Southern Ohio, an assortment of crooked and sinister individuals intersect paths in the Midwestern town of Knockemstiff, a rustic, sparsely-populated cesspool teeming with corruption and brutality…

Co-written and directed by Antonio Campos (Buy It Now, Simon Killer, Christine), the screenplay for The Devil All the Time was adapted from the novel of the same name by Donald Ray Pollock, who, interestingly, actually performed the narration for the film, making the role his first-ever narrating position as he avoided performing the voiceover work for his own audiobooks. Similar to the original novel, a large majority of the story revolves around the real-life town of Knockemstiff, Ohio. Here, the non-linear narrative, which examines the violent vestiges of religious iconography, thrusts an array of devilish characters to encounter one another through differing scenarios, often resulting in horrific outcomes. In particular, the opening three arcs produce a distressing first act where death is seemingly always lurking around the corner. However, while most of the characters and their individual storylines are captivating, certain characters (and their continually fiendish actions) can appear somewhat underdeveloped due to a lack of screen-time, along with a few narrative details, namely, the subplot of Deputy Lee Bodecker accepting payments as a corrupt officer, not falling into place.

Regarding one of the finest aspects of the film, the central cast of Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson, Harry Melling, Bill Skarsgård and Sebastian Stan (among many others) are all exceptional in their various roles, with most of the cast’s accents seeming flawless, barring Holland and Pattinson’s accents, which come across as inconsistent and wildly over-the-top, respectively. The cast’s performances are only enriched by their usually well-written characters, however, as their unanswered prayers seem to eventually lead each of them to turmoil as they exist at a bleak point in history where treatments for diseases were scarce and a devastating World War had just wiped out millions, rendering religion to serve as the only recourse for most. What makes the characters more intriguing is that The Devil All the Time is also a multigenerational tale, beginning with the semi-protagonist, Arvin Russell, as a youngster before concluding the story with Arvin as an adult in his early twenties, all the while propelling Arvin and his step-sister, Lenora, to reckon with the ghosts of their parents’ past. That is not to say that any character is represented as exemplary, though, as during the final act, the primarily benevolent Arvin exercises his father’s vengeful tactics for a satisfyingly violent payoff.

In a rather bothersome decision, The Devil All the Time repeatedly feels compelled to remind the audience of earlier sequences in the story that mirror later moments. Yet, most of the time, these flickers of earlier scenes in the film are thoroughly unnecessary and quickly begin to grate on the audience. Aside from this annoyance, the editing and cinematography by Lol Crawley are serviceable, continually being enhanced by the terrific set design and set dressing, which makes every inch of the rundown town of Knockemstiff appear worn and ripe with religious imagery.

Alongside the original score by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, which remains nuanced and unpretentious whilst still adding to the cruelty and suspense on-screen at many points, The Devil All the Time employs an extensive selection of traditional gospel tunes and ’50s-era songs, such as Washed in the Blood, The Three Bells and Honeycomb, all beneficially playing into the setting and underlying religious themes of the story with some of the more upbeat songs even prompting certain scenes to develop a moderately satirical tone.

Returning to the visuals, momentarily, crucifixion is a recurring image throughout the runtime, relating to the film’s central underlying theme of the conflict between belief and the horrors of the real world. For example, in the first act, Willard Russell discovers a bloodied, fly-infested serviceman crucified during his deployment on the Solomon Islands during World War II. This image changes the once godly soldier to a religiously apathetic, but more importantly, makes it apparent how closely savagery and sacrifice are exemplified through the image of Jesus Christ tortured on the cross. Later in the film, there is also a painting of Jesus Christ on the cross hanging on the wall in Arvin’s room, reminding the audience of this subtext.

In summary, whilst The Devil All the Time‘s ruthlessly pessimistic narrative can occasionally be harrowing to the point of punishment, much of the dour storytelling is offset by the strong work from the outstanding cast, whose performances are often so compelling they even redeem the rather conventional style of filmmaking the film adopts, which is unlikely to leave any audience member in awe. Still, The Devil All the Time is an effective, religion-centred thriller. Rating: 7/10.

devil_all_the_time_ver2_xxlg

The Green Knight (2021) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“One Year Hence…” – The Green Knight

Written, produced, directed and edited by David Lowery (Pete’s Dragon, A Ghost Story, The Old Man & the Gun), The Green Knight, released in 2021, is a visually stunning fantasy odyssey based on the 14th-century Middle English poem; Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by the Gawain Poet. Steered by a spectacular performance from Dev Patel, The Green Knight takes the timeless legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and deconstructs many aspects of the famed fables, leaving a lot of its story open to interpretation while casting a captivating spell on its audience through a slow-paced, mature and stylistic fantasy adventure.

Plot Summary: On Christmas Day, before the noble King Arthur and his loyal Knights of the Round Table, the King’s headstrong nephew, Sir Gawain, agrees to a challenge from a formidable foe; in a year’s time, travel to the remote Green Chapel and face its ghastly lord, the Green Knight. But, as the one-year milestone arrives, Gawain embarks on his peril-laden journey with great apprehension, traversing the land in an effort to honour his promise and prove his mettle…

A large majority of The Green Knight‘s narrative revolves around the five traditional knightly virtues of friendship, generosity, chastity, courtesy and piety. Throughout the runtime, Gawain, when tested, fails at all five of these virtues through a variety of situations, demonstrating that Gawain is not yet ready to be a knight and adding to the subtext of his journey. Moreover, in order to make his vision of the Arthurian world appear more distinct, Lowery’s screenplay freely capitalises on folk elements derived from Welsh, Irish and English stories, as well as the French chivalric tradition of the Middle Ages to flesh out the world-building and Gawain’s mystical encounters that are only alluded to in the original verse.

Whilst the supporting cast of Alicia Vikander, Joel Edgerton, Sean Harris, Barry Keoghan and Erin Kellyman are all sublime in their various roles, Dev Patel truly knocks it out of the park performance-wise, portraying Sir Gawain as a troubled yet well-intending relative of the celebrated hero and monarch, King Arthur, evidently anxious about overcoming his personal flaws to find his honour and live up to the legacy left by his uncle and his faithful Knights, all in the hope of one day becoming the monarch himself. Patel is simply a magnet for the audience’s sympathy and the protagonist Gawain is a character anyone can get behind, with his journey of trials, temptations, trouble and self-discovery only adding to his subtle characterisation.

Primarily shot in Ireland, presumably to capture much of the island’s natural beauty. Practically all of the cinematography by Andrew Droz Palermo is visually astonishing, depicting a grounded and eerie fantasy world that makes fantastical concepts like spirits, giants and a talking fox seem almost ordinary. From soggy marshes to lonely mountain roads and extensive forests wrapped in mist, the camerawork never fails to visually grasp the looming dread that grips the land, mirroring Gawain’s fear of the Green Knight. The set design is also remarkably impressive, assuring the shadowy interiors of each structure are equally atmospheric. The only real downside concerning the visuals would be the CG effects, which often appear too glossy and clean when compared to the rest of the unkept visual aesthetic. Still, all of this is somewhat to be expected, as Lowery has always been a gifted visual storyteller, especially when it comes to colour usage, and The Green Knight is no exception, retaining a wildly diverse colour palette of earthly tones, making the film perhaps Lowery’s most sumptuous work to date.

Similarly, the original score by Daniel Hart manages to convey the setting, time period and action/emotion without performing the same tricks too many times over. Through tracks like Excalibur and Now I’m Ready, I’m Ready Now, the Pagan-like percussion and xylophone come and go, frequently followed by a whistle or pipe lead and rattling backing, making for an almost medieval-like dance rhythm. The score also utilises acoustic drums, bass strings, angelic vocals, bottles and harps. And it’s this unique combination of instruments that allows the soundtrack to expertly back up Gawain’s journey across numerous scenes, whether triumphant or fearful.

Given that the character’s name is the very title of the film, the Green Knight needed to leave an impact on the story and the audience. Luckily, he does just that. Sporting overgrown, corroded armour engraved with the Sabaic alphabet (Sabaic being a South Arabian language spoken from 1000 BC to 6th Century AD), the Green Knight has a tremendous on-screen presence, appearing ancient, imposing and authentic as a result of his flawless costuming and prosthetic make-up, the Green Knight’s towering appearance only being rivalled by his baritone voice, well-provided by actor, Ralph Ineson.

In summary, The Green Knight is a visually breathtaking fantasy flick, in addition to another exceptional release from production company; A24 Films, outside of its usual brand of horror and drama-centric films. Although its pacing is occasionally too slow for its own good and many audience members will undoubtedly be turned off by its assortment of interpretive scenes and heavy emphasis on underlying themes. David Lowery employs almost every ounce of his imagination to craft an audacious and demanding Arthurian adaptation that warrants multiple viewings to increase its allure. Rating: low 8/10.

green_knight_ver8_xxlg

Carol (2015) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“You Seek Resolutions Because You Are Young. But, You Will Understand This One Day.” – Carol Aird

A period-set romantic drama with a pleasant festive aesthetic in the former half of its runtime, 2015’s Carol is based on the novel; The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith. Powered by the fantastic performances of Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara in the lead roles, Carol is a well-told and engrossing tale of forbidden love between two women that lives up to its cherished source material. Thanks in part to its elegant production design and magnificent original score by Carter Burwell.

Plot Summary: During the Christmas season of 1952, aspiring photographer, Therese Belivet, meets Carol Aird whilst working at a boutique store in Manhattan. Semi-divorced and entrapped in a loveless relationship with her former husband, Carol quickly sparks a connection with Therese over their shared romantic hardships. Yet, amidst the strict social norms of their time, their undisguised interest in one another soon turns into profound affection…

The original novel the film is based upon was actually inspired by a blonde woman in a mink coat who ordered a doll from Patricia Highsmith when she was working as a temporary salesgirl at Bloomingdale’s in New York City during the 1948 Christmas season. Highsmith recalled feeling; “Odd and Swimmy in the Head, Near to Fainting. Yet, at the Same Time, Uplifted.” Highsmith completed the outline for the story in about two hours that same night. Moreover, the character of Carol Aird was inspired by Virginia Kent Catherwood, a Philadelphia socialite six years older than Patricia Highsmith, with whom the author had a love affair in the 1940s. Catherwood subsequently lost custody of her daughter after her homosexuality was used against her with a taped recording of a lesbian liaison she had in a hotel room. Director Todd Haynes (Velvet Goldmine, Far from Heaven, I’m Not There) sufficiently employs all these ideas into a grander narrative in his adaptation, primarily concentrating on the senseless consequences of a lesbian relationship in a time when they were strongly frowned upon.

When it comes to the cast, the pairing of Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara is superb, with Blanchett portraying the thirty-two-year-old, Carol Aird, as a woman chafing against the constraints of her role as an upper-class wife and mother, continually expressing her sexual desires for women as a method of rebelling against her husband and her conformist world. While Mara’s performance as nineteen-year-old, Therese Belivet, is more suppressed, depicting the quiet young woman as a self-deprecating, novice photographer who prefers to hide behind her camera than engage with others. Softly spoken and sweet-natured, Therese is as single-minded in her relationship with her boyfriend as she is in her pursued career. As such, it’s easy to see why the pair bond, given that they provide a sense of escapism for each other, and upon their first meeting, the sexual tension between them is palpable.

Although the cinematography by Edward Lachman is doubtful to blow any audience member away with its framing or use of colour, Carol still features a number of visually interesting shots that occasionally even illustrate what the characters are feeling. For instance, in the opening shot, we see an iron floor grille from which the camera slowly pulls out, visually representing the entrapment that Carol and Therese feel at the beginning of the narrative. Another intriguing attribute in regard to the visuals is that Carol was shot on Super-16 millimetre film to better resemble the look of photographic film from the late 1940s/early 1950s. Many of the shots are also directly influenced by the photojournalism of Vivian Maier, Ruth Orkin, Helen Levitt and Esther Bubley, respectively.

Moving onto the original score, through orchestral tracks like Opening, Datebook, Christmas Trees and Waterloo, the score by Carter Burwell consistently sounds wrapped in a gauze of wistful minimalism, with the leading duo being audibly identified by two instrumental markers; Carol by piano and Therese by woodwinds. In addition to the wonderful original score, Carol makes terrific use of songs from the time period. In fact, prior to the start of production, Todd Haynes compiled a playlist of seventy-nine songs that were popular during the era the story is set within to further understand the period. A few of the songs that were ultimately chosen for the film include; One Mint Julep, Easy Living and Smoke Rings.

From start to finish, the production design of Carol is also outstanding, capturing the polish and aristocratic nature of the ’50s without seeming excessive. This praise can be applied to all parts of the production, but, most notably, the costume design. What makes the costume design even more spectacular is that excluding the suit Therese wears in her first and last scene(s), all of Rooney Mara’s costumes were actually well-worn, vintage clothing pieces.

In summary, whilst Carol isn’t one of the finest romantic dramas ever made, it is still a tremendous flick in more ways than one. While the pacing is sometimes too slow for its own good, and the original score occasionally does a lot of the heavy lifting during the more emotionally impactful moments, Carol is an indelible and captivating story, all the same. On top of that, even though many may see Carol as a rather strange choice for a Christmas viewing. I feel the joyous, snowy aesthetic that the film presents during its first half is enough to make the flick a reliable, less whimsical pick for the festive season. Rating: low 7/10.

carol-p1023477

RED (2010) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“You Just Had Your Ass Handed to You by a Goddamned Retiree.” – Cynthia Wilkes

Loosely based on the comic book mini-series of the same name by Warren Ellis, RED, released in 2010, is a fast-paced and humourous action-comedy with an all-star cast of ageing actors and actresses. Yet, despite everything the film has going for it, RED never quite reaches the soaring heights of exhilaration most would expect to see from an action flick with a cast of this calibre. Still, at the very least, RED doesn’t just rely on its renowned performers to impress, as director Robert Schwentke (The Family Jewels, R.I.P.D., The Captain) integrates a sufficient amount of both style and wit into the adaptation.

Plot Summary: When his peaceful life becomes threatened by persistent attacks from squads of heavily armed, masked assailants. Former black-ops agent, Frank Moses, reassembles his old team of highly-trained assassins in a last-ditch effort to uncover who his assailants work for and why they are hunting him…

One of the few DC Comics properties not based around superheroes and/or supervillains. RED was surprisingly the first widely-released adaptation of a DC Comics series not produced by Warner Bros. Pictures, as Batman, released in 1966 by Twentieth Century Fox, was a spin-off from the television series. Whereas Superman, released in 1948 by Columbia Pictures, was technically a serial. These comic book roots factor into the film in a number of ways, some visual, some not. For instance, when it comes to the narrative, the pacing often seems unnecessarily quick, making the constant location-jumping of the characters feel overwhelming at points. On top of this, there is an abundance of scenes throughout RED that seem to serve little-to-no purpose, such as a moment in the opening montage of Frank’s day-to-day life where he positions Christmas decorations, implying the festive season will somehow play a part in the story. Yet, from that scene on Christmas isn’t even mentioned, so why is it there?

The leading component to the enjoyability of RED is undoubtedly its formerly mentioned cast and their respective characters. From Bruce Willis as the hard-boiled protagonist, Frank Moses, to Morgan Freeman as the capable yet cancer-ridden; Joe Matheson, along with John Malkovich and Helen Mirren as Marvin Boggs and Victoria, a paranoid nut-job and sophisticated assassin, respectfully. All of the characters that are part of the central team known as R.E.D. (an acronym for; “Retired and Extremely Dangerous”), are well-defined and sufficiently likeable. Outside of this primary team, however, some of the characters suffer from a lack of development. Most notably, William Cooper, portrayed by Karl Urban, a misguided CIA agent assigned the task of capturing Frank and his team. Frank’s love interest, Sarah Ross, portrayed by Mary-Louise Parker, is unfortunately just as bland, with her character arc of maturing from a fearful, reluctant companion to an adrenaline junkie relishing in her time beside Frank, being both corny and unbelievable.

Evidently inspired by the comic book mini-series it’s based upon, RED is generally rather creative with its visuals, implementing a considerable number of innovative shots that rotate around the characters as they perform various tasks. Nevertheless, the cinematography by Florian Ballhaus isn’t impeccable, as the film is frequently impaired by the jerky, hand-held style of camerawork that plagued many action sequences in the early 2010s. Furthermore, while I appreciate the attempt to add some flair to the visuals by integrating a string of imaginative location transitions, a few of these transitions come across as somewhat cheesy, particularly whenever they revolve around a screen-overspreading postcard.

In a quirky little detail, all of the tracks throughout RED‘s original score are titled to fit the acronym of R.E.D. Some of these titles include; Rotating Enforcement Device, Regular Easygoing Dudes and Rehash Every Detail. However, even when ignoring this minor detail, the original score by Christophe Beck is rather impressive, adding to the film’s appeal as a lively and stimulating guitar-led soundtrack that more than fits the quick-pacing and sharp wit seen throughout the rest of the runtime.

When it comes to the action sequences, it may surprise many to learn that RED largely spreads out its rousing set pieces. If truth be told, the film’s most interesting narrative decision is that every act feels different in its approach. The first act, for example, predominantly focuses on humour, whilst the second act takes on a more serious tone, and the third act bursts into an exhilarating display of discharged firearms and downed adversaries. That’s not to say that the first two acts don’t retain any of their own exciting moments, however, as they certainly do. Interestingly, actress Helen Mirren had to learn how to fire a gun without blinking to appear more like an experienced assassin in her action sequences. This is actually an issue that has troubled cast members of the action genre for years. In fact, blinking was one of the main reasons why the cast of The Matrix trilogy wore sunglasses, concealing their involuntary reactions.

In summary, whilst RED is an action-comedy endowed with prominent names, most will come away imbued with the reassuring thought that all of the cast left their egos at home to assemble something amusing and easily digestible. Although the film isn’t anything extraordinary and definitely has its fair share of flaws, RED does have some of the makings of an entertaining action-comedy, pleasing fanatics of the veteran actors/actresses whose names litter the film’s promotional material, especially. Rating: high 5/10.

Red Teaser 1sht.Rev.1:Red Teaser 1sht.Rev.1

Room (2015) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“There Are So Many Things Out Here. And Sometimes It’s Scary. But, That’s Ok. Because It’s Still Just You and Me…” – Jack

Based on the best-selling novel of the same name by Emma Donoghue, 2015’s Room is a captivating and immensely well-crafted drama, guided by a pair of astonishing performances from Brie Larson and the young Jacob Tremblay. Simultaneously showcasing the best and worst of humanity, Room undoubtedly begins in a very dark place narrative-wise, but that doesn’t necessarily make it a bleak film, as Room is filled with just as many uplifting moments as it has sombre ones. Ultimately making for a harrowing yet equally rewarding piece of both filmmaking and storytelling.

Plot Summary: Held captive for seven years by a rapist, eventually giving birth to a baby boy. Joy Newsome, and her now five-year-old son, Jack, spend their days trapped inside a small room, this enclosed space being the only world Jack has ever known. Knowing that Jack’s growth has made their situation precarious, however, Joy, with the help of her son, orchestrates an escape plan in the hope that they can finally gain their freedom…

Maintaining the same narrative stance as the novel the film is based upon, much of Room‘s story is told from the perspective of Jack, with many of the plot points being childishly interpreted as the sheltered youngster can barely comprehend much of what he sees. By telling its story from the point of view of a child, the film is able to easily differentiate Jack’s distorted understanding of the world from the real world that lies just outside his view, all the while leaving the more unsettling aspects of the story, such as Joy’s abduction and subsequent sexual abuse, to be tastefully implied as opposed to occurring on-screen, as those events transpire out of Jack’s presence/eyesight.

Predominantly shot in chronological order to make it easier for the then-eight-year-old Jacob Tremblay to perform as his character matures. The pairing of Brie Larson and Tremblay as mother and son is no doubt one of the best elements of Room, as the pairs’ performances are astoundingly believable, with the development of their characters only furthering this sense of realism. To Jack, the ten-foot square room he and his mum live within is the entire world, where objects such as a table, a rug and a wardrobe are the only ones of their kind. Whereas for Joy (repeatedly referred to as “Ma” by her son), this room is her prison. A cell in which she has been kept for over seven years since she was kidnapped at seventeen by a man who has raped her countless times, ultimately fathering Jack. Yet, through sheer willpower and the love she harbours for her son, Joy keeps all these harsh truths to herself. And throughout the runtime, Larson turns in a tragically punishing performance to match this broken yet incredibly resilient character, finding courage from the need to protect her child from the enormity of their tormentor, only ever referred to as “Old Nick.” With that in mind, it’s not too much of a surprise that Larson later went on to win an Oscar for her performance in 2016.

Shot over a period of ten weeks, the first month of Room‘s production primarily took place inside a tiny set with immovable walls. As such, director Lenny Abrahamson (Adam & Paul, Frank, The Little Stranger) and his crew had to work entirely within the confines of the limited space. Nevertheless, the cinematography by Danny Cohen still manages to remarkably capture the innocent outlook of childhood, employing a number of low-angled close-ups in just the right shaft of light to illustrate how Jack finds enjoyment in his everyday life. Many of these shots also display the grubby surfaces and worn objects in the claustrophobic space Jack and his mother reside, reminding the audience that this sealed room is closer to a dungeon than an inviting family quarter.

Similar to the narrative itself, the original score by Stephen Rennicks is the perfect combination of beauty and trepidation, with some tracks, most notably; Opening, Mouse, In the World and New End, standing as beautiful piano-led pieces that bring a level of warm comfort. Whilst other tracks, like I’m Scared and Roll Up, are much more atmospheric and even somewhat unnerving. In many ways, these two types of tracks could be seen as representations of Jack and Joy, respectively, as the piano melodies are direct and naïve with very little room for movement, a.k.a. Jack. While the violin arrangements could be personified as Joy, being mature, tense and somewhat damaged.

In terms of its structure, Room is a film that is largely divided into two halves. And whilst I don’t want to reveal too much regarding how the plot develops, I will note that the film does lose some of the dramatic steam it builds up in the first half of its story due to a substantial change in the direction and tone of its latter half.

In summary, Room is undeniably a depressing and challenging viewing at points, but it’s also more sanguine in its storytelling than many may expect from a film with such a horrific setup. Through its tremendous performances, thoughtful use of visuals and detailed sets, Room is a terrific drama (and an effective thriller) that explores the uncomfortable topic of abduction from a unique perspective. Formulating a tear-jerking adaptation that occasionally makes too much room for melodrama, but is an expertly told tale, nonetheless. Rating: high 8/10.

room-p1011837

What If (2013) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“In Fairy Tales, Love Inspires You to Be Noble and Courageous, but in Real Life, Love Is Just an All-Purpose Excuse for Selfish Behavior. You Can Lie and Cheat and Hurt People and It’s All Okay, Because You’re in Love.” – Wallace

Based on the novel and later stage play; Toothpaste & Cigars by T.J. Dawe and Michael Rinaldi, 2013’s What If (alternatively titled; The F Word), is a light-hearted romantic-comedy that largely overcomes its familiar framework and few derivative elements. Continuously mindful of the many clichés associated with rom-coms, What If employs an abundance of witty dialogue, subversive story decisions and the effervescent chemistry of its leads: Daniel Radcliffe and Zoe Kazan, to deliver a charming, self-aware romantic-comedy that will appeal to those well-acquainted with the genre (and its typical shortcomings), as well as those who prefer the ‘com’ to the ‘rom’ portions of a rom-com.

Plot Summary: After being repeatedly burned by bad relationships, medical school dropout, Wallace, decides to put his love life on hold while everyone around him seems to be finding the perfect partner. But, when Wallace meets Chantry at a house party, an endearing animator who lives with her long-time boyfriend, Ben. The pair form an instant connection, striking up a close friendship and leaving Wallace to contemplate whether his newly-found friend could also be the love of his life…

Directed by Michael Dowse (It’s All Gone Pete Tong, Goon, Stuber) and written by Elan Mastai. In many ways, the screenplay for What If feels as if it was conceived as an unabashed tribute to the exemplary romantic-comedy; When Harry Met Sally from 1989. Primarily due to its underlying theme/question of whether a man and a woman can truly just be friends. However, unlike that renowned rom-com, What If places a heavy emphasis on its characters and their relationships, alongside its hilarious gags. As a result, many of the cringe-inducing comedic moments feel very natural and in-character, as opposed to feeling like embarrassing scenarios the screenwriter conjured up on the spot. As previously mentioned, What If is also continually conscious of the numerous painful clichés that plague the rom-com genre, attempting to avoid them at every turn. As such, the film crafts many of its amusing yet romantically uncomfortable situations in unpredictable ways, rather than what the audience would typically expect, which works remarkably well.

Portrayed by Daniel Radcliffe, the story’s polite and self-effacing protagonist, Wallace, is close enough to Radcliffe’s actual personality that the actor rarely feels as if he is portraying a fictional character, yet he is immensely entertaining to watch, nonetheless. And when paired with the charismatic and equally likeable Zoe Kazan, whose character, Chantry, is luminously quirky, the pair’s excellent chemistry quickly bubbles to the surface. In addition to the leading duo, Wallace’s outlandish best friend, Allan, portrayed by Adam Driver, provides a considerable amount of the film’s most amusing moments, as his wild personality is a fantastic foil to Wallace’s often pessimistic view of the world. Then there is Rafe Spall as Chantry’s long-lasting boyfriend, Rob, who, thankfully isn’t written as a simplistic, cheating miscreant designed to simply push his girlfriend into the arms of the protagonist. If truth be told, the only character the film squanders is Wallace’s sister, Ellie, portrayed by Jemima Rooper, as she is incredibly underutilised, only appearing in two (inconsequential) scenes.

When it comes to visuals, the cinematography by Rogier Stoffers maintains a light touch throughout the runtime, allowing the photogenic city of Toronto to function as a vibrant setting without ever seeming overly romanticised, which is a satisfying contrast to many other city-set romantic-comedies. Additionally, to correspond with Chantry working at an animation studio, What If seizes the opportunity to add some flair to its visuals by having many of its characters sporadically daydream. These mental fabrications are represented by Chantry’s cartoonish sketches coming to life and appearing alongside the characters, usually in a projection-like form via their surroundings.

Despite What If presenting its song choices as the focal point of its audio instead of its acoustic-led original score, many of the tracks by composer A.C. Newman, including Beach Bummer and Packing with Dalia, are cordial and possess a delightful little motif. Still, the licensed songs are naturally the most memorable part of the soundtrack, with upbeat tunes like Best of Friends, Big Bird in a Small Cage and Let’s Get High, sufficiently supporting the story and its central underlying theme.

Sticking with the notion of avoiding romantic-comedy tropes, the ending of What If is a rather restrained piece of storytelling that merely gets across what details it needs to before cutting to black. The ending is a terrific throwback to a line of dialogue from earlier in the film, bringing the story to completion. That is essentially why I prefer that original ending to the extended ending that was shot eighteen months later, as where the original climax is drawn-back and concise, the extended ending feels unnecessarily long and even falls into a couple of the stale plot points What If was trying to sidestep throughout its narrative.

In summary, What If is a feel-good flick that frequently flirts with rom-com clichés yet skillfully evades the worst of them, all while traversing into unexpected territory, both comedically and dramatically. Whilst I’d argue the film has widespread appeal, those who enjoyed Michael Dowse’s previous outings are especially likely to appreciate What If, as it similarly blends a warm, earnest attitude with shocking, irreverent jokes. Repeatedly pointing out how much better romantic-comedies can be when you have fully-formed characters and exceptional performances, in addition to side-splitting wisecracks. Rating: low 8/10.

what_if_xxlg

Red Riding Hood (2011) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Full Moon. Lock up Tonight. Better the Wolf Takes the Pig Than You.” – The Reeve

A reinterpretation/modernisation of the centuries-old fairy tale; Little Red Riding Hood; a children’s story centering on a young girl as she encounters the Big Bad Wolf on a journey to visit her grandma. Red Riding Hood, released in 2011, retains the framework of the original story, but not much else, as this reinterpretation aims to be a dark fantasy with elements of romance and gothic horror thrown in. Yet, in almost all of these genres, the film falls flat as a result of its subpar screenplay and direction. That’s not to say that Red Riding Hood doesn’t have any positives, however, as this fantasy flick undoubtedly deserves praise for its outstanding production design and dreary fantasy aesthetic.

Plot Summary: For years, the residents of a remote mountain village have maintained an uneasy truce with a fearsome werewolf by offering the bloodthirsty beast a monthly animal sacrifice. But, when the wolf violates their trust by taking a human life, the village falls into hysteria, prompting the arrival of the famed werewolf hunter, Father Solomon, to assist in their hunt. Meanwhile, Valerie, a beautiful young woman torn between two viable fiancés, begins to suspect that the beast may be someone she knows…

Similar to most European fairy tales, the origins of Little Red Riding Hood lie within the folk tradition of oral storytelling. So, no singular author can be credited for the story’s creation. However, the two most prominent renditions of the fairy tale are proclaimed to have been written by Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm in the 17th century. Despite this history, Red Riding Hood seems to largely disregard the various iterations of the fairy tale, to instead take influence from the first instalment of the infamous Twilight series, as the two films share a number of similarities. For example, the opening title sequence where the camera majestically glides over vast snowy landscapes closely resembles the opening title sequence of Twilight. Furthermore, Taylor Lautner, who previously appeared in Twilight, was considered for the role of Peter early in pre-production. Still, these similarities shouldn’t be that surprising, considering that director Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen, Lords of Dogtown, Miss You Already) helmed the first entry in the series in 2008.

In regard to the cast, Amanda Seyfried portrays the titular character of Valerie/Red Riding Hood sufficiently, but her performance is somewhat hindered on account of her placement between Shiloh Fernandez and Max Irons as her love interests, Peter and Henry, whose performances leave a lot to be desired coming across as drab and rather wooden for the majority of their screen-time. As per usual, the highlight of the cast is undoubtedly Gary Oldman as the morally-grey werewolf hunter, Father Solomon. Though Oldman doesn’t get to exhibit immense amounts of emotion (despite his character having a tragic backstory), the veteran actor does stay committed to his detestable character.

Aside from some outlandish CGI and a handful of moments where cast members/props that should seemingly be in focus are not, the cinematography by Mandy Walker is one of the finest components of Red Riding Hood. From the glowing red of Valerie’s hood contrasting against the white snow to the blood-red moon gradually emerging over the village rooftops, Red Riding Hood is a visually stunning fantasy at points. What’s more is that the set, costume and prop design are all exceptional, as every location feels rustic yet fantastical, whilst every costume/prop appears worn and functional. From a design standpoint, even the trees that appear throughout the runtime are visually unique as they harbour cadaverous spikey branches, giving the impression that merely wandering through any of the dense forests surrounding the village could result in a wound and subsequently a trail of blood.

Unsuitable yet well-crafted, the original score by Alex Heffes and Brian Reitzell begins rather promisingly with the track; Towers of the Void, which Reitzell co-wrote with musician, Anthony Gonzalez, of the electronic band; M83. As such, the ominous track contains waves of strings and industrial-sounding electronics, these instruments then persist onto the second track; Kids, where they are accompanied by ghostly vocals and moody synth. Essentially, while not a bad soundtrack, by any means, the score for Red Riding Hood is simply so unfit for a story set in this time period and genre, that it’s difficult to overlook when reviewing the score.

For a significant portion of the runtime, the story of Red Riding Hood unfolds like a mystery, with the human identity of the werewolf being kept a secret to keep the audience guessing. And whilst many suspects are immediately dismissed, the screenplay does a serviceable job of introducing red herrings without seeming overly conspicuous. When the truth is finally revealed, however, the answer as to who is behind the beastly slayings is rather disappointing, especially since the reveal is quickly followed up by an equally disappointing climax and epilogue.

In summary, as far as gloomy retellings of classic fairy tales go, Red Riding Hood is certainly one of them. While Amanda Seyfried and Gary Oldman are magnetic in their respective roles, the unremarkable leading men along with the painfully formulaic screenplay, continuously devalue the beautiful production design and often spectacular visuals. So, whilst it’s possible that the Twilight crowd will find a specific appeal in Red Riding Hood, outside of that devoted fanbase, I doubt many others will. Rating: low 5/10.

red_riding_hood-p509441