FILM REVIEW: MARGIN CALL

Becker Films
Now Showing




J.C. Chandor's directorial debut Margin Call arrives with the distinction of an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay, a nomination it no doubt earned for making a complex subject -- commodities trading and the on-set of the GFC -- easy to understand as well as giving it a somewhat human face.

And no doubt my natural antipathy for all things economics is the reason why the film never fully engaged me.

For in spite its impressive cast -- Kevin Spacey, Paul Bettany, Demi Moore, Stanley Tucci, Jeremy Irons, and Zachary Quinto -- its even handed treatment of the Wall Street types responsible for the GFC (traders are people too!), and its ability to make these financial goings-on both accessible and almost thriller-like, Margin Call still had me at arms length.

When Eric Dale (Tucci) is unceremoniously let go from his post with the investment bank he's been with for two decades, he passes on information to a young risk analyst, Peter Sullivan (Quinto), suggesting he take a look at the numbers but with the warning to "be careful".

Sullivan does just that, doesn't like what he sees, and after informing his next in command, Will Emerson (Bettany), who in turn informs his senior, Sam Rogers (Kevin Spacey), sets off a panic within the ivory-lined walls of the boardroom of the (fictional) bank they work for.

Seems the company has been repeatedly trading outside of their risk parameters (or something: economics, not my forte) and it's now only a matter of time before it catches up with them, which isn't necessarily news to bank execs, Jared Cohen (Moore) or Sarah Robertson (Baker).

But when the Board finds out, the Head, John Tuld (Irons, hamming it up; close your eyes and you'll hear Scar from The Lion King) decides they should stop buying and sell all their assets for as much as they can get. The downside? They will be creating a economic black hole the likes of which Wall Street, and the world, has never seen.

All of this action, which takes place over a 24-hour period, and mostly on the one floor of a New York office high rise, plays out like a thriller though instead of action set pieces we get dialogue -- a lot of dialogue -- and a lot of exposition. So much so, that at times Margin Call felt more like an HBO telemovie, or even a stage play, than a cinematic feature.

Which brings us back to that Original Screenplay nomination. Deserving? I don't think so, not when you have a character explaining his role within the company to another character who does virtually the same job. The film also ends with arguably the most heavy-handed metaphor since Scorsese had a rat make a last minute cameo in The Departed (2006).

That metaphor involves a spade and Kevin Spacey, giving his best performance in years as a man stuck between a rock and hard place upon realising he mortgaged his integrity many financial years ago.

Spacey is also the best in show among the solid cast, who make Margin Call a solid if not enriching investment.

FILM REVIEW: THE RUM DIARY

20th Century Fox Films
Now Showing





With a title like The Rum Diary, based on a memoir by Hunter S. Thompson, and populated by alcohol-swilling expatriate American journalists in sunny Puerto Rico 1960, it should come as no surprise that this film is chaotic and undisciplined. And it's also a lot of fun.

All of these elements may also explain why director Bruce Robinson, hand picked by star and producer, Johnny Depp, came out of virtual retirement to direct his first feature in 19 years. That last film was Jennifer 8 (1992) but Robinson is best known for the cult classic, Withnail & I, regrettably a 'should've seen but haven't' film for me but one which is also about colourful characters experiencing the '60s through an alcohol/drug infused haze.

Paul Kemp (Depp) is a wannabe novelist who successfully applies for a journalist position with The Suan Juan Star, an American-run newspaper catering to the American colonialists who flock to Puerto Rico to stay in the beach front hotels, and rarely venture outside of them.

The paper's ethos, as set out by the editor, Lotterman (Richard Jenkins), is 'only good news is good news' but Kemp, with a thirst for excitement superseded only by his thirst for alcohol, wants to write about the real Puerto Rico - poverty, corruption, civil unrest, cockfighting - and not the Horoscopes column he's been assigned.

And moving in with Sala (Michael Rispoli) and Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi), two fellow journalists in various stages of having gone native, opens his eyes and mind to the sensory pleasures of the South American paradise. But a meeting with Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart) exposes him to the dark side of its colonial interests.

Sanderson works in PR, and he wants Kemp's help in selling the country's untouched islands to US investors as future tourist destinations (because that's what Puerto Rico needs, more hotels and Americans). But if Kemp isn't seduced by the smarmy charms of Sanderson, nor the money he's offering, he's more than willing to be courted if it means he gets to flirt with the PR guy's girlfriend, Chenault (Amber Heard), a smoky-voiced young blonde.

These various plot lines may not always work cohesively, or with any real urgency -- they certainly push the film's running time beyond the necessary -- but this Puerto Rican sojourn remains mostly fun.

Depp, in a relatively straight role compared to his Tim Burton catalogue, gives us a hint of the man (and actor's friend) Hunter S. Thompson was before he become "Hunter S. Thompson" (the memoir was penned before the writer discovered his gonzo-voice), thankfully leaving much of the colour and quirk to Rispoli and Ribisi, and beautiful Puerto Rico.

FILM REVIEW: JOHN CARTER

Walt Disney Studios Films
Now Showing



The phenomonal success of James Cameron's Avatar (2009) must have been viewed as a double-edged sword by Disney Studios for their own in-the-works 'Earth man-involved-in-alien-civil-war' film, John Carter.

Once the property of Paramount, the project -- an adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs' A Princess of Mars, the first in a series of pulpy Western/sci-fi/fantasy adventures published in 1917 -- had been an on-again, off-again affair since the mid '00s with a succession of directors attached and then unattached before the rights fell to Disney and they settled on Pixar alum, Andrew Stanton (of Wall-E and Finding Nemo fame).

If the similarities in story with Cameron's film were a concern for the House of Mouse, Avatar's all-conquering performance at the international box office must have been enough to ease their doubts. It is also probably the only reason that John Carter arrives in cinemas in unnecessary 3D, for the film itself -- a space opera set predominantly on Mars -- gains nothing from the extra dimension (other than $$$).

While prospecting for gold, former Confederate soldier, John Carter (Taylor Kitsch), stumbles upon a gateway which teleports him to Mars, or Barsoom as it is known to its many various inhabitants, the first of which Carter encounters being the Tharks: four-armed, 12-foot tall noble savages which were no doubt inspired by Burroughs' own observations of native Americans.

The Tharks, led by Tars Tarkas (voiced by Willem Dafoe), take in the strange looking but impressively gifted Carter (Mars' lighter gravity allows the former soldier to leap tall buildings in a single bound - if there were buildings), amusingly calling him 'Virginia' after confusing his home for his name.

But Carter is treated as little more than a pet until enemy forces, led by Sab Than (Dominic West), under the influence of the supernaturally-powered Matai Shang (Mark Strong, who really should fire his agent), attack the Tharks. Carter comes to the Tharks' rescue, and that of Dejah Thoris (Lynn Collins).

Dejah just happens to be Princess of the Mars city of Helium, and promised to Sab in matrimony by her father (Ciaran Hinds). But the strong-willed Princess has other plans, escaping Sab's clutches during the skirmish and finding in the pale (Dejah's kind are more or less human save for their red spray tans) yet impressive Carter a possible champion for her people.

Cue Dances With Martians, as Carter and Dejah, in the process of uncovering the mysteries which brought the Virginian to Mars, prepare to bring about the downfall of evil on Barsoom by rallying the natives, and predictably falling in love along the way.

And while I didn't fall for in love with John Carter, I'll readily admit I enjoyed it for the most part. At 132-minutes it's too long but if you go with it, you're bound to have a reasonably good time. The source material is a mish-mash of Western, sci-fi, fantasy and romance, and all those elements blend persuasively if not always perfectly on screen.

The romantic leads, however, are easy on the eye, even if they aren't fully fleshed out (well, except for Collins' cleavage; bound to become this generation of young boys' Princess Leia in bikini). Kitsch, best known for his role on TV's Friday Night Lights, makes for a muscular, handsome and relatively wooden hero although not without charm and humour. And Collins, other than being a beauty, gives Dejah a girl power injection and smarts (Dejah happens to be a scientist too).

Comparisons with Avatar will be both expected and not unwarranted with John Carter, but given that Edgar Rice Burroughs' novel pre-dates that 3D extravaganza by almost 100 years (and that Avatar shamelessly "borrows" from other sources, Dances With Wolves and Fern Gully to name but two), claims of plagiarism are rather redundant.

And if John Carter never reaches the epic-ness of Avatar (other than in its bloated run time), I'm not sure that can be counted as a failing. For if the original intention of Disney and Andrew Stanton was to bring Burroughs' space opera to life, with all that that entails for a modern audience -- CGI creatures, requisite explosions, and a none-too-healthy serving of cheese, camp and Kitsch -- then John Carter is, by and large, a triumph.

Of course the audience, and thus box office figures, will determine if John Carter is a success (and sequels ensue). And that will always be the case, whether you live on Earth or Barsoom.

FILM REVIEW: CORIOLANUS

Icon Film Distribution
Now Showing




Pride is the deadliest of the seven sins, and Caius Martius (Ralph Fiennes) has it in spades. But pride also cometh before the fall, and the Roman general, recently dubbed Coriolanus in honour of his efforts fighting insurgents in the city of Corio, is about to take an almighty tumble off the pedestal from which the government -- though, pointedly, not the people -- of Rome have placed him.

While Caius has strong support from both Senator Menenius (Brian Cox), and his mother, Volumnia (a commanding Vanessa Redgrave), some members of the parliament (James Nesbitt and Paul Jesson) and the citizens of Rome are less enamoured with the man.

They appreciate his war efforts but not his attitude to their plight, and when Caius refuses to beg for their endorsement for a Senate seat, people power prevails and the General must accept banishment from Rome or face execution.

But Hell hath no fury like a proud General scorned, as Caius seeks revenge on Rome by forming an uneasy alliance with Tullus Aufidius (Gerard Butler), leader of the the Volscian insurgents and his sworn enemy (we witness the pair do hand-to-hand combat at the battle of Corio).

Fiennes, making his directorial debut, and screenwriter-of-the-moment, John Logan (Hugo and Rango), adapting William Shakespeare's play, wisely decide against a self-consciously "modern" setting (like Richard Loncraine's 1930's set Richard III (1995) and Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet (1996)) for Coriolanus.

Instead we get the recognisable concrete jungles and corridors of power of an international capital. And Rome (actually Belgrade, Serbia and shot by The Hurt Locker's cinematographer, Barry Ackroyd) has never looked so drab and unappealing; its people demonstrate in the streets for food, and civil war is waged on the outskirts of the city and throughout the country.

All of this provides Coriolanus with an immediacy and modern relevance, and yet I failed to be fully engaged. Admittedly, I'm not as Shakespeare savvy as I'd like to be but it wasn't the language I struggled with. Indeed, the only time the film came to life for me was when Redgrave was on screen.

The veteran British actress can recite the Bard as easily as she breathes and her Volumnia, proud yet overbearing mother who revels in the reflected glory of Caius's triumphs, provides an oomph which the battle scenes and bloodletting didn't.

Redgrave also manages to make Jessica Chastain (this being one of six films the actress appeared in in 2011) seem anaemic by comparison, although the role of Virgilia, Caius's loyal yet cautious wife, isn't that fullblooded to begin with.

Coriolanus may also appear to be a safe choice for Fiennes' directorial debut -- like Redgrave, Shakespeare's words flow freely from the actor's tongue -- but familiarity hasn't bred contempt. It's a boldly executed film, and could easily work as introductory Shakespeare in school classrooms as well as engaging a cinema going public who (think they) don't get the Bard.

But like the good people of Rome, I failed to be won over by the many virtues of Coriolanus.