FILM REVIEW: SHAME

Transmission Films
Now Showing




No doubt already known to most as the "sex addiction film", artist-cum-director Steve McQueen's sophomore effort, Shame, arrives in Australian cinemas two weeks after its leading man, Michael Fassbender, was "snubbed" in the Academy Awards' Best Actor category for his figuratively, and quite literally, naked performance.

Fassbender plays Brandon, the sex addict in question. A New York corporate type, Brandon lives alone in his sterile high rise apartment with nothing for company but a huge cache of pornography and the occasional female escort. And when at work, without access to either - his office computer is confiscated to be cleaned of online porn: "must have been the intern" - Brandon visits the men's room to relieve himself.

Addict or compulsive, Brandon's sexual (over)drive - his shame - causes or enables his solitary existence; he's never been in a relationship longer than a few months and he certainly doesn't believe in marriage or the monogamous state. Emotions and connections are kept at arms length, and that includes family.

Sissy (Carey Mulligan) is Brandon's younger sister, who is as expressive and emotionally needy as he is shut-off, and when she arrives, unannounced and uninvited, to stay with him while in town to perform as a lounge act, it precipitates big brother's free-fall.

"You trap me", Brandon hisses at Sissy in one of their many fraught encounters. Indeed, every scene involving Fassbender and Mulligan (better served here than in 2011's Drive, but still not used nearly enough) had me on edge and feeling more than a little queasy. Given Brandon's compulsion and the pair's seeming lack of inhibition around each other, one almost suspects events to take a too familial turn.

The nature of their relationship, and what may have transpired in their youth, is never explored in Shame, nor how Brandon came to suffer his addiction/affliction. McQueen and screenwriter, Abi Morgan (who also penned The Iron Lady), aren't so much concerned with Brandon's rise (no pun intended) but his fall, most of which takes place in one crazily eventful night.

The events of that night are no doubt responsible for Shame receiving an R-rating in Australia (which I think is unnecessary), and may have others thinking that, much like Fassbender throughout the film, the Emperor has no clothes.

For there is an argument to be made that McQueen's film, as intense and discomfiting as his 2008 debut, Hunger, isn't nearly as deep and meaningful as it thinks it is - that it's as empty as its protagonist's existence - despite the use of the almost-incessant classical music to have you believe otherwise.

But there's no denying the intensity of Michael Fassbender's performance. He commits fully to the role of a man unable to control his urges, or his anger, and who is sent into a downward spiral as a result. It's a bravura performance deserving of all the accolades it's garnered thus far (Academy be damned!).

Of course, it's absurd to rank art, or single out a mere five performances as "the best" in any given year. As equally absurd as leaving Fassbender (and Michael Shannon in Take Shelter, for that matter) out of just such a list. For shame.

FILM REVIEW: CHRONICLE

20th Century Fox Films
Now Showing



Found footage films have been enjoying a steady popularity with cinemagoers, and film producers, for some 12 years following the success of The Blair Witch Project, the handy cam low-budgeter which racked up big scares and even bigger box office in 1999.

Of course, film producers like the 'found footage' genre (which more often than not is also horror) because it usually involves little financial output for potentially high gain. Chronicle, the feature film debut of director Josh Trank, would appear to have a higher budget than most others in this genre, but then that has a lot to do with the film's focus on superpowers rather than horror (not to mention the backing of 20th Century Fox).

When three high school students happen upon a tunnel-like crater in the woods, they investigate further where they discover a glowing, crystal-like meteor. Through mere exposure, the meteor endows the trio with telekinetic powers which, like a muscle, become stronger the more they are used (a bloody nose is an irritating side effect).

The boys - Andrew (Dane DeHaan), an outsider who is bullied at school as well as at home by his dad, an alcoholic nursing his bed-ridden wife; Matt (Alex Russell), Andrew's cousin, who likes to quote philosophy and thinks himself above the general high school populace; and Steve (Michael B. Jordan), the high school hero currently running for president - try out their new found powers. Though tentative at first, it's not too long before they're moving vehicles with the power of their minds, defying gravity and eventually taking to the skies.

Following a telekinetic snafu, the boys decide to set some rules for themselves - with great power comes great responsibility, yadda, yadda, yadda - which they agree to. But given that they weren't the best of buds to begin with, and with Andrew's home life deteriorating, those rules are soon broken and all hell breaks loose.

It comes as no surprise when Andrew decides to go Carrie on everyone's asses, and 'Hulk' out (you won't like him when he's angry) in down town Seattle. The problem for me was, I didn't find Andrew at all sympathetic.

Chronicle is told predominantly from Andrew's point of view (conveniently buying a video camera the day before the story begins and documenting his every waking moment) but the bullied outsider with a dying mum is a whiny wuss who, even if he hadn't been corrupted with alien superpowers, would most likely have become some sort of sociopath.

Still, all three leads are impressive as the adolescents (they even look like teenagers!) who have to cope with the double edged sword of superpowers on top of high school, home life and hormones; Max Landis's screenplay is as much about puberty blues as it is super-sizing.

And it's an impressive debut for Josh Trank, not only revitalising the superhero film but the 'found footage' genre as well (even if he does cheat somewhat towards the end with the p.o.v). 20th Century Fox were obviously happy with the result: there are conflicting reports that Trank has been tapped to re-boot their Fantastic Four franchise.

*Maybe he could also direct the talked about live-action version of Akira? My viewing companion informs me that Chronicle references that 1988 animated feature significantly.

FILM REVIEW: THE ARTIST

Roadshow Films
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It's 1927. The iconic hillside sign still reads Hollywoodland and the movies - black and white, and silent - are a relatively young entertainment but are at the height of their popularity. And George Valentin (charm personified, Jean Dujardin), a vowel shy of Rudolph and with a passing resemblance to Clarke Gable, is the leading man of choice.

But talkies (movies with sound) are on the way in, and as Valentin refuses to be wired for sound, much to the chagrin of the studio head honcho (John Goodman), his days of stardom seem to be numbered. Conversely, the fortunes of Valentin fan and wannabe starlet, Peppy Miller (a delightful Berenice Bejo), are on the rise.

Peppy fast becomes the face - and voice - of the new generation of Hollywood, and as the world enters the Great Depression, so too does Valentin. Putting all of his money into a silent epic which bombs, he's left penniless and also left by his wife (Penelope Ann Miller); his companion and co-star, Jack (Uggie the scene-stealing dog), remaining steadfast.

But will Valentin's pride be the end of him, or will Peppy, aided by Valentin's loyal chauffeur (James Cromwell) be able to avert a tragedy?

Arriving in cinemas the week after it received 10 Oscar nominations, including Best Picture, and Director for Frenchman Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist is riding a wave of popularity, hype and, yes, backlash. But believe everything (positive) you've heard and read about The Artist: it's a beguiling piece of movie-making magic.

Like Martin Scorsese's Hugo, its main Oscars competition, The Artist celebrates cinema; past and present, old technologies and new. Some have dismissed the film by Hazanavicius, previously known for his series of secret agent spoofs, OSS 117, as a novelty and gimmick. That may be, but it's a lovingly crafted, cleverly executed one which he and his cast fully commit to.

Hazanavicius adopts the techniques of silent films - which were never truly silent to begin with - whilst occasionally using sound cleverly and judiciously. He also references a number of Hollywood classics, silent and talkie, most notably Singin' In The Rain, which The Artist shares a basic plotline, a couple of scenes which tip their hat to Citizen Kane. Even a classic line from Greta Garbo gets a run.

But you don't need to be a film buff or historian to enjoy The Artist; it's pleasures are simple but highly rewarding. Nostalgic whilst simultaneously bold - how else to describe a black and white, silent film in the digital age with 3D on the rise? - Michel Hazanavicius's love letter to cinema speaks to anyone whoever fell in love with, or at, the movies.

FILM REVIEW: MAN ON A LEDGE

Hoyts Distribution
Now Showing



Snakes On A Plane. The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford. Buried. Title, plot synopsis and spoilers all in one. It may be a case of Hollywood being lazy, particularly when it comes to the high concept Snakes (2006) (where one suspects they came up with the title first), but sometimes the title is just a jumping off point (pun intended).

Certainly Jesse James (2007) was a far more involved (and even longer) film than its all-encompassing title. And with Man On A Ledge, director Asger Leth serves up a serviceable thriller which is concerned with much more than the titular potential jumper (though it's much closer to Snakes than Jesse James in execution).

Walker (Sam Worthington) checks-in to a downtown New York hotel, has what one suspects is a last supper (lobster and fries?), and proceeds to climb out onto the building's ledge, after first removing all trace of his fingerprints from the room.

Walker's high enough off the ground to make an impression on his body, if not the sidewalk, should he jump, which is what he threatens to do unless the NYPD call in their top, though troubled, negotiator, Lydia Mercer (Elizabeth Banks).

She's on the outer with her NYPD brethren (which includes Ed Burns) following her recent failure to prevent the death of a fellow cop. Mercer takes her time in uncovering the jumper's true identity (which we learn early on in a flashback sequence) but she quickly intuits that he's not your usual jumper.

Walker is actually Nick Cassidy, a former NYPD cop wrongly imprisoned for the theft of a multi-million dollar diamond belonging to a wealthy businessman (Ed Harris, playing evil and cashing a cheque).

Escaping custody while attending his father's funeral, it's soon revealed that Cassidy has gone out on a ledge, literally and figuratively, to prove his innocence and right some wrongs. He's aided in his mission by his kid brother, Joey (Jamie Bell), and Joey's girlfriend, Angie (Genesis Rodriguez, who obviously got the part when Megan Fox found something - anything - else to do).

It's hard not to go into much more detail without becoming too spoiler-ish suffice to say things become a bit more active, and far more silly, when Mercer begins to suspect Cassidy is telling the truth, Joey and Angie put their part of the plan into action, and Cassidy leaps into the fray as well.

It's perhaps too early in the year to label Man On A Ledge one of the worst of 2012. Silly, yes, but not the worst. It's certainly not Abduction bad; the 2011 Taylor Lautner starrer which was so bad it was almost good.

But the latest Hollywood vehicle for Aussie Sam Worthington, who has yet to shine post-Avatar, will require a brain in neutral, a suspension of disbelief, and a leap of faith in order to win over its intended audience.