Genre: Comedy

Welcome to Marwen (2018) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I Was a Hell of a Good Artist, an Illustrator. I Loved to Draw, and Now, I Can Barely Write My Name…” – Mark Hogancamp

Co-written and directed by Robert Zemeckis (Back to the Future, Forrest Gump, Cast Away), Welcome to Marwen, released in 2018, is a dramatisation of the 2010 documentary; Marwencol, which recounted the true story of Mark Hogancamp, who, on April 8th, 2000, was brutally assaulted by five men who beat him almost to death, thrusting Mark into a nine-day coma and a forty-day hospitalisation period before he was discharged, woefully bearing severe brain damage that left him with little memory of his past life. Welcome to Marwen takes the tragic story of Mark Hogancamp and aims to provide it with a tint of optimism, romance and fantasy through its unique storytelling approach and dazzling visual effects. Yet, the film ultimately falls flat due to its confused tone and graceless screenplay, making Zemeckis’ invitation to enter the village of Marwen a leisurely one to decline. 

Plot Summary: After being ruthlessly assaulted by five men who left him for dead outside a bar in Kingston, New York State, yielding severe memory loss and trauma. Aspiring artist, Mark Hogancamp, constructs a remarkable therapeutic outlet on his property known as Marwen, a miniature World War II-era Belgium village compromised of period-dressed dolls. But, when Mark is requested to attend the court hearing of the men who mutilated him, his anguish returns to torment him…

Mark Hogancamp, the real individual upon whom the film is based, suffered injuries on every part of his body following the assault, subsequently placing him into a coma for nine straight days. As a result, most of the memories of his life before the assault were virtually extinguished, and the limitations of his health insurance prevented his continued rehabilitation. Sadly, only three of his assailants ever went to prison, with all three getting released within two years. Welcome to Marwen ignores many of these bleak details and outcomes, however, instead attempting to lace the story with more sanguinity and merriment as the film plays out over two planes; Mark’s plane of existence (our own) and that of the dolls, who, are enlivened via CGI in a fashion that could be described, as a more photo-realistic version of Toy Story (1995). It’s an admirable method of trying to infuse Mark’s despairing reflection of his assault with a dash of imagination and humour, but it’s predominantly an unsuccessful one, as this approach renders the film immensely inconsistent in terms of its pacing, tone and authenticity to the actual account of Mark’s horrific assault.

In a somewhat bizarre casting choice, Mark Hogancamp is portrayed by Steve Carell, who, whilst not awful, by any means, feels as if he lacks the acting aptitude required to depict Mark’s agonising trauma and isolation. But, Carrell does (of course) prevail with the more comedic moments, even if the gags themselves generally flop as Capt. Hogie (Mark’s gallant, plastic alter-ego) has a plethora of oddly placed witticisms. The supporting cast of Merritt Wever, Diane Kruger, Janelle Monáe, Eiza González and Gwendoline Christie all deliver passable performances (barring Christie’s overbearing Russian accent) yet possess little characterisation as the so-called; Women of Marwen, dolls that populate the tiny, make-believe village of Marwen, inspired by the powerful women Mark knows in his real life. Leslie Mann also makes an appearance in the film as Mark’s friendly, inexplicably curious neighbour, Nicol, who eventually becomes an object of affection for Mark in both his worlds, which occasionally comes across as rather uncomfortable as Mark lives out some of his romantic fantasies with Nicol through his dolls. 

Despite spending almost half of the runtime in the imaginary village of Marwen, Mark’s fantasies of himself and his female companions as heroes of the Second World War are often short on memorable shots. Lacking stimulating action sequences or grand set pieces to truly justify how much screen-time is spent in the village of Marwen, the rarely inventive cinematography by C. Kim Miles makes the scenes of the dolls socialising or firing at Nazis relatively visually flat, that is, barring the well-rendered visual effects.

On the more positive side of things, the original score by Alan Silvestri is equally adventurous and diverse, with tracks such as Magic, You Got This, Beautiful Moon and Marwencol, all harmoniously balancing sorrow, yearning and genuine tension while featuring a snare drum to further play into the World War II setting of Marwen. The score also includes some auditory references to Zemeckis’ earlier filmography, including a callback to the signature motif of the Back to the Future trilogy.

Nevertheless, the finest aspect of Welcome to Marwen is, by far, its CG effects, which brilliantly utilise motion capture to employ the faces and body movements of its cast onto plastic figurines clothed in World War II-era outfits/uniforms. As such, every scene within Mark’s fantasy world oozes with detail and toy-related visual gags, even if the animation of the dolls periodically appears overly fluid compared to the somewhat rigid reality of poseable figurines.

In summary, the current stage of Zemeckis’ career has long been repressed by his obsession with visual effects, repeatedly concentrating on style over substance. Welcome to Marwen is no exception to this rule, with the numerous sequences set within Mark’s fictitious world being the film’s most enjoyable moments. Thus, Welcome to Marwen fails to flourish as a wonderous, period-set adventure or a rumination of violent hate crimes and personal trauma, merely existing as a creatively ambitious misfire. Rating: low 5/10.

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Action Point (2018) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“What a Day! We Ran Out of Beer, Corn Dogs and Toilet Paper. In That Order.” – D.C. Carver

From Johnny Knoxville, co-creator of Jackass, Action Point, released in 2018, is loosely inspired by the now-defunct Action Park in Vernon, New Jersey, which first opened in 1979. The independently-funded theme park was considered by many to be one of the most dangerous entertainment destinations in the United States, as at least six people were known to have died as a result of incidents that occurred within the park. Founder and CEO Gene Mulvihill’s philosophy was that guests should be in control of their experience, envisioning a theme park where the guests controlled how fast/high they went, which is exactly what he created with Action Park. Consequently, the park closed in 1996 and later reopened under new ownership as Mountain Creek in order to disassociate itself from the former park’s reputation. Yet, in spite of all this fascinating history, Action Point is a rather poor attempt at adapting one of the world’s most dangerous theme parks for the silver screen, combing lowbrow humour with a flavourless (and largely invented) narrative to minimal effect.

Plot Summary: A low-rent yet moderately successful theme park with an assortment of hazardous attractions, Action Point was the crackpot dream of its owner and operator, D.C. Carver, who always believed that children enjoying themselves was more important than anything else. But, just as D.C.’s estranged teenage daughter comes to visit, a massive corporate theme park opens nearby, jeopardising the future of Action Point…

Action Park, the theme park that inspired Action Point, is actually the subject of multiple documentaries, including 2013’s The Most Insane Amusement Park Ever, and 2020’s Class Action Park, both of which go deep into the construction and history of the troubled entertainment destination. So, with two documentaries detailing the park along with a plethora of YouTube videos, it’s easy to see why the filmmakers behind Action Point thought the story would make for an excellent comedic biopic of Mulvihill. However, therein lies the first issue with the film; Action Point isn’t truthfully a biopic as its narrative is primarily fictional, with names of characters/locations getting changed to further fit this approach. To make things worse, director Tim Kirkby (The C World, (Future) Cult Classic, Last Looks) repeatedly has trouble applying conventional story structure to the kind of reckless Jackass-esque stunts that populate the film, which only worked previously, thanks to their short-snippet, home-made allure.

While he may be looked down upon for his history as a daredevil who made his career off of getting hit in the crotch, many seem to forget that Johnny Knoxville is actually a competent actor, able to convey the emotion and empathy required for a role such as this. And although you never forget that you are watching Knoxville merely portray a character, he does a serviceable job of portraying D.C. Carver. Alternatively, the supporting cast’s performances are fairly inconsistent, as Eleanor Worthington-Cox, Chris Pontius and Dan Bakkedahl are sometimes bland and sometimes overly eccentric. Moreover, Action Point tries to integrate a subplot alongside the primary storyline around D.C.’s cracks at connecting with his fourteen-year-old daughter, yet this subplot seems like nothing but a saccharine afterthought on behalf of the screenwriter.

Attempting to match the hand-built qualities of Action Park, the large-scale set pieces throughout Action Point are suitably outlandish and precarious. The film even goes so far as to include the Cannonball Loop waterslide, one of the most notorious attractions of the original park. That attention to detail does not persist in every aspect of the film, however, as whilst Action Park was surrounded by trees and foliage, Action Point’s iteration of the disreputable theme park is simply an expansive patch of dirt, which feels cheap and artificial in comparison. Similarly, the cinematography by Michael Snyman is relatively dull, only retaining a handful of visually interesting shots.

Barely noticeable for the majority of the runtime, the original score by Deke Dickerson, Andrew Feltenstein and John Nau is flat and easily forgettable. Luckily, the film redeems its uninspiring score through its use of well-known punk-rock songs like Janie Jones and If the Kids Are Untied, which count towards the chaotic, out-of-control disposition of the park and its innumerable youthful guests.

As previously mentioned, despite appearing both risky and painful, all of the stunts throughout Action Point feel tremendously out of place, as the story frequently grinds to a halt to make way for a scene of a character getting injured. In fact, Johnny Knoxville claims to have sustained more injuries in this flick than in any other film of his career. These injuries included four concussions, a broken hand, a damaged meniscus, a lost orbital lamina, whiplash, stitches and even the loss of some of his teeth.

In summary, while Action Point was never going to be anything more than masochistic sequences built atop a flimsy plot, eighty-five minutes of Knoxville and his co-stars abusing themselves across a shoddy recreation of one of the most unsafe theme parks in the United States quickly becomes tiresome. And whilst ideas like an alcoholic bear may get a smile out of some, this box office flop just doesn’t hold a candle to the glory days of Jackass, whether that be the cinematic trilogy or the original television series. As such, I would advise just watching Jackass or any of the documentaries depicting the true story of Action Park over Action Point, as they are far more entertaining. Rating: 4/10.

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Project X (2012) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I’m Gonna Go Have a Long Cry and Then Start Calling Some Lawyers…” – Costa

Partially based on a real house party that occurred in Melbourne in 2008, where the then-sixteen-year-old Australian teenager, Corey Worthington, posted his home address on MySpace, attracting around five-hundred people to his home and subsequently causing over $20,000 in property damage. 2012’s Project X undeniably has its flaws, yet through its efficacious use of the found-footage format and fantastically over-the-top narrative, this teen comedy is a surprisingly engaging watch. Standing as one of the rare entries in the found-footage genre to feature no horror content whatsoever, Project X will no doubt repel some older audience members on account of its typically teenage characters and near-constant use of foul language. Yet, for the younger generation, this comedic flick will maintain its appeal thanks to its terrific utilisation of its central concept and real-world inspirations.

Plot Summary: As their tenure as high school seniors draws to a close, two friends, Costa and JB, attempt to finally make a name for themselves by throwing a life-changing birthday party for their friend, Thomas. But, as word of their prodigious house party spreads online, the situation quickly begins to spiral out of control as the guest list rises rapidly…

Directed by Nima Nourizadeh (American Ultra) and produced by Todd Philips, director of many renowned comedies, including The Hangover, Old School and War Dogs. Project X mines the depths of the teen comedy and found-footage genres to deliver eighty-seven minutes of enjoyable debauchery, with its runtime largely consisting of music video-type sequences that fully indulge in the colourful chaos of a neighbourhood-spanning party. And while some moments, such as a scene where a dwarf makes his way through Thomas’ house punching various partygoers in their crotches, could be seen as rather far-fetched, other moments are unexpectedly hilarious thanks to their increasing absurdity. That being so, I would encourage first-time viewers to blindly go into Project X so they can experience many of the film’s surprises first-hand.

The comradery between the central three friends desperately tries to recall those in quintessential teen comedies like Superbad and American Pie, but unlike those earlier films, the leading trio of Thomas, Costa and JB can occasionally come across as somewhat repugnant, despite being sufficiently portrayed by Thomas Mann, Oliver Cooper and Jonathan Daniel Brown, respectively. This is primarily due to the characters being written as authentic teenagers, depicting them as immature, foul-mouthed, impassioned youths who are clearly lacking in favour at their local high school. And whilst none of the characters receive much development beyond this basic level of characterisation, I feel that unlikeability in some scenes is just a repercussion of making the trio seem like genuine teenagers bearing teenage traits. That’s not to say, however, that you don’t feel sorry for Thomas once he starts to panic at the sight of his house being defiled, evidently suffering the consequences of submitting to his friends’ grand scheme.

Shot on a set instead of a real neighbourhood to minimise local disruption, a decision that proved to be a wise one as the set was essentially trashed during production. The cinematography by Ken Seng is realistically shaky and boisterous similar to many other found-footage films, yet still manages to be clear enough to impressively place the audience in the middle of Thomas’ larger-than-life birthday extravaganza. Moreover, to add to the realism, some pieces of footage were shot by the supporting cast with handed-out phones, which all varied in quality or retained visual distinctions to stand out. Another reason Project X looks as captivating as it does is a product of the film’s excellent use of colour, which steadily grows in variation as the party grows in size, making great use of the dynamic lighting setups Costa hires out for the party.

Lacking an original score as a result of its found-footage format, Project X places much of its auditory focus on its remarkable soundtrack, as dance songs like Pursuit of Happiness, Heads Will Roll and Le Disko, perfectly match the upbeat, stimulating atmosphere of a congested house party. And although the film places some of its songs over sequences where non-diegetic music shouldn’t really be present, such as a tumultuous moment in which a riot ensues and the rock song; Battery by Melltaica, is heard. I am willing to ignore that irritation on the basis that the songs chosen for each scene feel more than suitable, adding to the underlining sensation of each sequence, whether that be chaotic or cordial.

Interestingly, many of the minor antics throughout Project X were improvised by the supporting cast, including a scene where a female partygoer gets caught urinating behind a car. Many of these moments add to the pandemonium of the story, appearing inspired by scenarios the filmmakers found themselves in at actual house parties. These short, humourous shots also help redeem the screenplay’s handful of on-the-nose dialogue, especially from minor characters like Thomas’ parents before they leave for the weekend.

In summary, even though the mere notion of Project X will almost certainly turn off any audience members over the age of twenty-five, considering that the plot revolves around dancing and consuming various substances until 05:00 am. I am keen to encourage those on the fence to give the film a chance, as I believe Project X thrives as a teen comedy and will leave many feeling as if they’ve just attended the most epic house party in existence. Rating: 7/10.

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Cooties (2014) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I Learned All About the Brain When I Had a Six-Inch Spike Lodged in My Skull as a Child. Which Is the Reason Why You May Have Noticed That Sometimes When I’m Talking I Use the Wrong Rowboat.” – Doug

For many, children can seem like loud, disease-infested monsters, and it’s not difficult to see why. There’s usually something leaking out their noses, their meals are often encrusted around their mouths, and they care little for social decorum or personal space. As such, it’s not too surprising that a horror-comedy like Cooties would come along in 2014 to take this waggish status to a more terrifying level, altering children into nimble monstrosities hungry for human flesh. Unfortunately, however, in spite of how much potential a concept like this holds, Cooties ultimately squanders many of its favourable qualities, never fully committing to its absurd premise and the horror/humour it holds.

Plot Summary: When a mysterious virus originating from contaminated chicken nuggets hits an isolated elementary school, transforming the children within into a feral swarm of flesh-eating monsters. A group of misfit teachers are forced to band together as they attempt to flee the bloody, juvenile carnage…

Directed by Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion (Bushwick, Becky), Cooties undoubtedly harbours a remarkable premise, and the screenplay effectively sets itself up as a hybrid of both comedy and horror in its first act, balancing conversational witticisms and light moments of characterisation, with violent sequences of teachers and parents being torn apart by the infected children. However, the screenplay quickly turns sour once the second act arrives, as a number of plot conveniences/inconsistencies arise to make the perilous situation of the central group of characters survivable. Moreover, as the virus spreads and the teachers become trapped inside the school, the story begins to feel rather generic as the screenplay moves between uninteresting plot points from the chintzy jokes that preceded them.

While the characters featured throughout Cooties aren’t what I’d describe as particularly memorable or unique, they are, at least, well-defined and have their respective witty moments. A fair portion of this character appeal could also be attributed to the cast, however, as Elijah Wood, Alison Pill, Rainn Wilson, Leigh Whannel, Jack McBrayer and Jorge Garcia all deliver excellent performances as self-centred educators who are evidently displeased with how their lives have turned out. For example, Clint (the protagonist), who formerly moved to New York City in an attempt to become a novelist, reluctantly finds himself back in his hometown of Fort Chicken, Illinois, as a substitute teacher. The only positive outcome of his return home is his reconciliation with his childhood crush, Lucy, who now works at the same school. But, any chance of sparking a connection with her is swiftly stomped out by P.E. teacher, Wade, her loathsome boyfriend. Presumably, leaving many audience members grateful they don’t lead a life as a downtrodden, small-town elementary school teacher.

Aside from the truly nauseating opening title sequence at a chicken farm, which is sure to turn many audience members into vegetarians. Thanks in part to its use of vile close-ups, sludgy green colour palette and singular chicken nugget stuffed with an ominous black gloop. The rest of Lyle Vincent’s cinematography is relativity drab, relying on monotonous mid-shots to depict the puerile chaos. Outside of a handful of moments where close-ups are effectively employed to display the fantastic practical effects, that is, including a darkly comedic sequence in which the infected children pull the hapless school principal apart, using his intestines as a skipping rope, soon after.

Cooties‘ original score, composed by Kreng (a.k.a. Pepijn Caudron), is an interesting musical composition, a quirky mix of electronic horror and childlike innocence, much like the film itself. And whilst the score is occasionally too synth-heavy, which can seem a little odd given the film’s lack of 1980s influences. Cooties‘ soundtrack does make space for haunting vocals and violins where it can, blending comforting and madcap cues to create splendid tracks like Opening Titles and Rick’s Tape.

As previously mentioned, Cooties does appear fairly derivative following its first act, relying on no end of familiar tropes for the zombie subgenre. In addition to caving into an array of plot convinces, such as the sex-ed teacher, Doug, possessing a significant amount of knowledge on viruses and the human brain alike, so he can explain to the others that adults cannot be infected. Still, that isn’t where the writing-related issues cease, as towards the end of the third act (spoilers ahead in this section for those who wish to go in blind), the story becomes virtually aimless, providing no resolution as the characters scurry through the barren, nearby town of Danville until the credits roll. Of course, there is always the possibility that this sudden discontinuation was a result of the film’s limited budget, but it’s a less-than-satisfying way of concluding the narrative, nonetheless.

In summary, Cooties‘ screenplay is largely what drags the rest of the project down, appearing almost confined in its storytelling as if the screenwriters couldn’t reach beyond the typical traits of a zombie flick. Once the teachers hunker down inside a classroom, the story grinds to a tedious halt, merely observing the characters as they crawl through air ducts and suit up with school equipment to escape, scenes you’ve seen a thousand times before in other zombie-centric stories. Yet, what’s most disappointing, is that Cooties wastes such an inspired idea, as teachers surviving against a horde of infected children is an imaginative and amusing concept that could’ve easily made for an enjoyable, low-budget horror-comedy if it was executed skillfully. Rating: 4/10.

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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.

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What If (2013) – Film Review

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“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 underlining 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 under-utilised, 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 underlining 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.

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Sausage Party (2016) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Sausages and Buns, Let’s Party!” – Frank

Directed by Greg Tiernan and Conrad Vernon (The Addams Family, The Addams Family 2) and co-written/produced by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg. Sausage Party, released in 2016, is an animated adult comedy with a very specific brand of humour, a brand that I have a strong distaste for. Lazily relying on copious amounts of foul language, sexual imagery and offensive jokes, the potential hilarity of Sausage Party‘s concept is ultimately squandered due to its dreadful execution, giving the impression that this adult-centric animation was written by a group of angsty teenagers.

Plot Summary: Eagerly awaiting the day they will be taken to the Great Beyond by their human deities, Frank the sausage, Brenda the hot dog bun, Sammy Bagel Jr. and the rest of the food items that occupy the shelves of the local supermarket, believe a code that allows them to live blissfully ignorant lives until it’s time to depart their aisle. But, when Frank learns the terrible truth that they will eventually become a human’s dinner, their shared fantasy comes crashing down, forcing the panicked perishables to devise a plan and fight back against their human foes…

An obvious parody of Disney, Pixar and DreamWorks’ animated classics. Co-writer and producer, Seth Rogen, first developed the idea for Sausage Party in 2007 while promoting Superbad and Knocked Up, as interviewers would ask Rogen what his next project would be, to which he jokingly replied; “It’s Called Sausage Party.” Rogen frequently described Sausage Party as a dreary take on family-friendly animated films, stating: “People Like to Project Their Emotions Onto the Things Around Them; Their Toys, Their Cars, Their Pets… So We Thought; ‘What Would It Be Like if Our Food Had Feelings?’ We Very Quickly Realised, That It Would Be Fucked Up.” An ingenious idea, to be sure, even if its execution leaves a lot to be desired.

Featuring the likes of Seth Rogan, Kristen Wiig, Michael Cera, Salma Hayek, Edward Norton, Jonah Hill, Bill Hader, Danny McBride, Paul Rudd and Craig Robinson, among others. Sausage Party possesses an all-star cast to voice its extensive and diverse line of animated characters. As such, the voice acting quickly becomes one of the best aspects of the film as every member of the cast puts their all into the project, despite the repeatedly low-grade dialogue. And whilst none of the characters could be described as well-developed, Brenda does make for an appropriately uptight love interest for Frank, while characters like Teresa Del Taco and Sammy Bagel Jr. are at least memorable for their cartoonish qualities.

The animated cinematography on display throughout Sausage Party is continuously frantic and often difficult to keep track of as a result of its constant movements. The animation itself also isn’t the most visually appealing as many of the characters’ designs (both human and anthropomorphitic food) are overly cartoonish, oddly sensual and repeatedly disproportionate. Still, there is a handful of amusing visual gags throughout the film. For instance, during the scene where Honey Mustard’s outburst causes two shopping trolleys to collide, hurling multiple food items toward the ground. The resulting carnage is a shot-for-shot homage to the opening sequence of 1998’s Saving Private Ryan, with all of the scene’s graphic violence being represented through burst flour bags, squished tomatoes and crumbled biscuits.

When it comes to the original score by Christopher Lennertz and Alan Menken, the soundtrack is serviceable, for the most part, with tracks like Chosen, Food Massacre and Magical Sausage all serving their purpose of reinforcing scenes of both horror and humour within the story. However, where the film really shines in terms of music is the opening song; The Great Beyond, composed by Alan Menken, a composer predominantly known for scoring a number of classic animated musicals, including The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. Thus, The Great Beyond is very reminiscent of the scores for those films, only with a more satirical edge, thanks to its comical lyrics and profanity.

In addition to the inconsistent quality of the humour, Sausage Party also attempts to integrate the notion of organised religion into its story, as Frank tries to convince his blissed-out companions that they might be heading not for a glorious afterlife, but rather knife-assisted oblivion. Even the Israel/Palestine conflict is riffed upon through the pairing of a lavash and a bagel. Yet, both of these underlining themes are significantly overshadowed by the constant wisecracks and needlessly shocking lines of dialogue. Moreover, the rules of Sausage Party‘s world oftentimes make no sense as many objects that aren’t food come to life, while others seemingly do not. Admittedly, this is more of a nit-pick than a true criticism for an absurdist comedy such as this, but I feel it’s always important for a story and its world to have consistency.

In summary, although Seth Rogen has expressed interest in making a sequel to Sausage Party, along with a number of other animated projects aimed toward older audiences, I have no desire to see any other projects of this nature. Lacking the abundance of laugh-out-loud moments that Rogen and Goldberg have delivered with their better efforts in the comedy genre, such as Pineapple Express and The Interview. Sausage Party simply exists as a twenty-minute gag that was somehow stretched into a feature-length film, complete with shoddy writing, unpleasant animation and largely lethargic storytelling. Rating: high 3/10.

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Wiener-Dog (2016) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Hey, Dad, When Do You Think We Can Let Wiener-Dog Out of Her Cage?” – Remi

A comedy-drama anthology that is far more drama than black comedy, 2016’s Wiener-Dog, written and directed by Todd Solondz (Welcome to the Dollhouse, Happiness, Lifetime During War), centres on a series of short, personal stories, all connected by the titular sausage-resembling canine. And while Wiener-Dog certainly has its moments as a mordantly witty tour of the human condition, seen from the low-slung position of an ordinary dachshund, Wiener-Dog‘s distinct combination of bleak storytelling and deadpan humour can make for a very inconsistent viewing experience, especially if you aren’t sure what to expect going in.

Plot Summary: An endearing dachshund, nicknamed, Wiener-Dog, finds itself shuffled from one oddball owner to the next, with each owner’s radically dysfunctional life being, in some way, impacted by the small canine…

Winning the Best Film Award at the 2017 Milan LongTake Interactive Film Festival, a festival where the films in competition are selected from titles yet unreleased in Italian cinemas, with the winner being chosen by the number of people attending each screening. Wiener-Dog is certainly not a film for everyone as the stories within are actually much dreary in tone than many would expect given the title and/or poster. Moreover, for those going in expecting four straightforward, humourous narratives, Wiener-Dog frequently takes an unusual approach with its stories, with much of the writing being awkward and clunky and each story largely differing in terms of structure. And even though I adore the idea of using a dog as a framing device for an anthology, Wiener-Dog rarely makes use of its central dachshund, nor do any of the stories fully delve into the emotional arcs of their characters even when some of their self-examining journeys are particularly interesting.

Throughout all of the stories, one element that never fails to impress, however, is the cast. From a struggling family to a despondent screenwriter-turned-film school lecturer, every member of the cast brings their all in Wiener-Dog. And although many of the characters don’t receive as much development as they probably should, they do all feel very distinct from one another. For example, in the first story, Julie Delpy and Tracy Letts portray Danny and Dina, an uptight, miserable couple whose young son, Remi, is recovering from cancer. Danny and Dina soon decide to get their son a dog in an attempt to cheer him up, though, this only ends up causing the family more problems. In the next story, Dawn, a veterinarian’s assistant, hopes the dachshund will help her melt the heart of Brandon, whom she knew in school as a notorious bully. The third story introduces us to Dave Schmerz, portrayed by Danny DeVito, a has-been screenwriter now teaching at a film school where the students despise him. The fourth and final story concentrates on a character only ever referred to as Nana, portrayed by Ellen Burstyn, a blind, embittered woman suffering from cancer, who is being visited by her granddaughter, Zoe, and her outrageous abstract artist boyfriend, Fantasy.

For the majority of the runtime, the cinematography by Edward Lachman stands as a model of subtle and elegant compositional skill strained by what are fairly uninteresting locations. And whilst the first two stories have a written transition between them, the latter two stories do not, and instead, we just cut to the dachshund being in a new home, with a new owner, with no explanation given, which is rather jarring. That being said, Wiener-Dog does feature an intermission of sorts halfway through, which becomes a short story in itself; a montage of the dachshund walking through a number of colourful locations brought to life via some less-than-stellar green screen. This amusing sequence somewhat feels inspired by Let’s All Go to the Lobby, officially known as Technicolor Refreshment Trailer No. 1, a 1957 animated musical advertisement that played in American cinemas during intermissions, in which, animated characters that resemble various food items urge the audience to purchase snacks.

The original score by Nathan Larson and James Lavino is serviceable during the few scenes when it’s actually used. As for most of the film, Wiener-Dog chooses to employ excerpts from the classic orchestral piece; Clair de Lune, L. 32, which consistently seems out of place. The previously mentioned intermission is also set to an original tune titled; The Ballad of the Wiener-Dog, which is admittedly quite imaginative despite, once again, seeming misplaced.

With an anthology, some segments are always going to be superior to others. In Wiener-Dog‘s case, it’s the third story that is the best of the bunch, mainly because of DeVito’s terrific world-beaten performance. With that said, the third story does have a shortcoming that plagues many of the segments; its ending, which feels rushed and premature. The ending of the final story is also likely to leave many audience members with a bitter taste in their mouths as the climax is unnecessarily mean-spirited, concluding the anthology on an immensely dour note.

In summary, similar to the rest of Todd Solondz’s filmography, Wiener-Dog is a black comedy with much of the comedy removed, leaving just black; a dense residue of callousness as the film rarely dwells on its light-hearted gags or charming moments. Nevertheless, Wiener-Dog is enjoyable in parts, and it’s evident that Solondz had a specific vision for the project when crafting it, perhaps the film is just a little too bleak for its own good. Rating: 4/10.

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Knives Out (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“It’s a Weird Case From the Start. A Case With a Hole in the Center. A Doughnut.” – Detective Benoit Blanc

A brilliant spin on the well-worn formula of kindred murder mysteries, 2019’s Knives Out is a charming, captivating and hilarious film from beginning to end. Functioning as both a subversive whodunit as well as a modernised homage to the prominent works of crime-fiction author, Agatha Christie, Knives Out offers the kind of classy entertainment we could use more of on the silver screen as the film, through its all-around marvellous cast, excellent direction and witty dialogue, quickly overcomes the one or two minor flaws it has to thoroughly immerse its audience in a delectable delicacy of a mystery and its affiliated suspects.

Plot Summary: When renowned crime novelist, Harlan Thrombey, is found dead in his study on the night of his eighty-fifth birthday, the inquisitive and debonair, Detective Benoit Blanc, is enlisted to investigate his passing. Now, in a mansion full of potential suspects, from Harlan’s dysfunctional family to his devoted staff, Detective Blanc must sift through a tangled web of red herrings and self-serving lies to uncover the truth behind Harlan’s untimely death…

Written and directed by Rian Johnson (Brick, Looper, Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi), the plot of Knives Out follows one of the most timeworn formats in the whodunit playbook; as family members and associates gather after a rich patriarch dies under mysterious circumstances. And although many of them may act like they want to uncover who’s responsible for the premature death of their loved one, in reality, they’re far more interested in knowing how much they stand to gain monetarily from said loved one’s death. However, at many points, Knives Out actually acknowledges its audience’s familiarity with this formula, battling against it by integrating a series of compelling twists and turns into its story. So, even if you’ve already guessed who isn’t responsible, it won’t be easy to deduce who is. Furthermore, it soon becomes clear that Rian Johnson has more than just murder and mysteries on his mind, as Knives Out quietly threads political commentary into its narrative through the family’s conversations concerning immigration and the many shades of venality, exposing an entirely different side to the ignorance and pride of the Thrombey family.

With an enormous ensemble cast featuring Daniel Craig, Ana de Armas, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Michael Shannon, Toni Collette, Katherine Langford, LaKeith Stanfield, Riki Lindhome and Christopher Plummer, it’s understandable that a few of the actors and/or characters would be misspent. And this is most apparent with the character, Jacob Thrombey, portrayed by Jaeden Martell as beyond serving a single plot point and a handful of jokes, Jacob, and by default, Martell, has little screen-time, very few lines and the least development of any member of the family, making his inclusion seem rather pointless. Detective Blanc also brings two police underlings with him to solve the case, neither of whom makes much of an impression. Still, every member of the cast somehow manages to make their character feel distinguishable when placed alongside the others, from the bohemian Instagram influencer, Joni Thrombey, to the foul-mouthed freeloader, Ransom Drysdale, Harlan’s entire family is relentlessly amusing as they continuously squabble with each other despite pretending they are on the same side.

The gothic abode in which Detective Blanc’s suspects are confined is an interesting location for a murder mystery, to say the least, as Harlan Thrombey’s gigantic mansion is not only unique exterior-wise, but inside, is decorated with antique furniture and an assortment of ghoulish accoutrements, including crystal skulls, oil paintings, artwork that resembles giant eyeballs and, of course, a large metal ring of knives and other sharp implements. All of this elegant set design greatly adds to the already pleasing visuals of Steve Yedlin’s cinematography, but there’s no denying that characters and humour are certainly the biggest draws of Knives Out as a whole.

By that same token, the original score by Nathan Johnson (Rian Johnson’s cousin) never overshadows the comedy or drama unfolding on-screen, but instead enhances it. Matching the highbrow, old-fashioned style of Harlan’s grand mansion, the symphonic score plays more like a concerto for strings than a traditional film soundtrack. With tracks like Knives Out! (String Quartet in G Minor), Like Father, Like Son and The Thrombey Family Theme, all being wonderful pieces of classical pastiche dripping with a rich gothic atmosphere.

Interestingly, Nathan was not the only member of Rian Johnson’s extended family to assist in the production of Knives Out, as Rian also brought on board two further cousins of his; Mark Johnson, who created the film’s opening titles and designed a font based on a series of Agatha Christie paperbacks, and Zack Johnson, who painted the cast portraits seen in the end credits. Further adding to the film’s high-class stylings and inadvertently tieing into the story’s focus on familial relations.

In summary, Knives Out is a sly, wry and stylish throwback to the murder mysteries of yesteryear, with a splashing of self-aware humour to boot. Updating the genre for modern audiences whilst simultaneously satisfying fans of the classic whodunits, Knives Out demonstrates (in a similar sense to many contemporary westerns), that some of the genres we may perceive as defunct are, in actuality, still far from gone, and that we could potentially see more from these less prevalent, but immensely enjoyable genres, in the future. Rating: 8/10.

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The Lobster (2015) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“If You Encounter Any Problems You Cannot Resolve Yourselves, You Will Be Assigned Children, That Usually Helps.” – Hotel Manager

Bleak, eccentric and ambitious, The Lobster, released in 2015, is undoubtedly an acquired taste, but for those with the fortitude to crack through the film’s offbeat sensibilities, it should prove a cinematic treat as co-writer and director Yorgos Lanthimos (Dogtooth, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, The Favourite) continuously demonstrates his peculiar style throughout this anomalous black comedy. And although the film does admittedly fall short in its final act as the story loses interest in its animal-transformation premise and abandons its fascinating hotel setting in favour of a less interesting location with equally less interesting characters, this does little to diminish the intrigue of The Lobster‘s unique outlook on human relationships.

Plot Summary: In a dystopian future where, by law, all citizens must have a life companion, single people are taken to the Hotel, where they are obliged to find a romantic partner within forty-five days. Should they fail, they will be transformed into an animal of their choosing and released into the wild where they will hopefully find love with a different species. Inevitably, as the newly divorced architect David enters the luxurious rehabilitation facility, he too must find a suitable partner, or an uncertain future in the wilderness awaits…

Since its initial release, The Lobster has become an intense hub of speculation regarding its true meaning, but the most common theory is that the film is an absurdist look at modern-day coupling, which, if truthful, is similar to the rest of Lanthimos’ filmography which frequently picks apart damaged characters, attempting to expose the raw and volatile relationship between humans and their fragile sensibilities. Immediately from its opening scene, The Lobster also presents an extraordinarily unusual world, a dystopian future that is simultaneously striking, disquieting and darkly comedic without ever appearing overly futuristic. Needless to say, with a world as irregular as this one is, there are still a few lines of dialogue that feel fairly on-the-nose concerning its world-building.

The film’s large cast of Colin Farrel, Rachel Weisz, Léa Seydoux, Ben Whishaw, Jessica Barden, Angeliki Papoulia, Ariane Labed, Olivia Colman and John C. Reilly are all superb throughout the film, intentionally delivering their lines with a complete lack of emotion. Instead, many of the characters present much of what they are feeling on their faces whilst seemingly concealing everything else. This approach works flawlessly when it comes to the film’s comedy, with the numerous quirky characters David interacts with giving matter-of-fact line readings that are extremely difficult not to find amusing. Yet, these constant stabs at dry humour never feel at odds with the story’s more dramatic/romantic moments either as The Lobster tries to gain emotional investment from its audience by making the characters feel distinctly human through the recognisable neuroses that label them despite their emotionless tones.

Visually, The Lobster is rather impressive as the cinematography by Thimios Bakatakis allows nearly every shot to have something poignant to it, with the symmetrical staircases and hallways of the Hotel presenting a world of order in a simplistic yet elegant manner. One hunting scene, in particular, stands out as gorgeous composition, slow-motion and lighting are all used to great effect. This is made even more impressive when considering that the production crew worked without makeup and exclusively utilised natural light. With large-scale lighting set-ups only being employed for a handful of evening scenes.

When it comes to the film’s music, even though The Lobster lacks a traditional original score, the film does feature a tremendous assortment of brittle classical compositions such as String Quartet No. 1 in F Major, Op. 18 and Strauss, R: Don Quixote, Op. 35: Variation: II, both of which give the film a feeling of serenity yet also push much of the story’s tension to the forefront. Quietly damping down the comedic tone that gradually bubbles up through the carefully placed laugh-out-loud one-liners.

Returning to the visuals briefly, The Lobster was primarily filmed in and around the Parknasilla Hotel in Ireland, an ostentatious hotel that is decorated almost entirely with Dutch flower still life from the 1600s. This ageing pattern along with the film’s exceptional use of colour; primarily blues, greens and a few alternate shades of red, including beige-pink, give The Lobster a distinct visual appeal even more so than its cinematography as these colours can even be seen in many of the costumes or mentioned in lines of dialogue, such as the scene where the Short-Sighted Woman says she should wear blue and green clothes or when David mentions that lobsters are “Blue Blooded,” (lobster’s shells also being red, of course).

In summary, while The Lobster is a droll piece of storytelling lashed with grim humour, it also offers a rich, surreal take on modern relationships that you’d be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. As for every moment that makes you laugh, there may be another that leaves you with your mouth wide open. In many ways, The Lobster is as much a black comedy as it is a slice of existential horror, glimpsing into an outrageous yet disturbing future, one that is truly a testament to Lanthimos’ brand of filmmaking and storytelling as he’s able to trump even the most outlandish premise and turn it into an accessible and engrossing narrative. Rating: low 8/10.

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