Friday, 29 November 2013

MINI FILM REVIEWS: HOORAY FOR Y.A.!














It's long been argued that Hollywood has been making movies for 14-year-old boys for some time now: big-budgeted blockbusters high on explosions and testosterone, and little in the way of character or plot. Movie-making is, after all, a business and you won't go broke appealing to the lowest common denominator.

But three new films, adapted from Young Adult novels, aim to arrest if not exactly reverse this 'blockbusters for boys' trend. And two of them do so with young, strong-willed female characters as their driving force.

HOW I LIVE NOW (Madman Entertainment, now showing), set in a not-too-distant yet recognizable future, sees 16-year-old Daisy (Saoirse Ronan) shipped from her New York home to stay with cousins in the English countryside. Not too long after, a war of-sorts breaks out and Daisy and her three cousins (two younger, one older) are left to fend for themselves.

Who the enemy is and what they are fighting for is never explained; they're never even glimpsed which prevents the film, directed by Kevin Macdonald (The Last King of Scotland, 2006), and adapted from the novel by Meg Rosoff, from venturing into Red Dawn/Tomorrow, When The War Began territory. Shot for realism, it's without gloss or machismo.

Thematically, How I Live Now is about finding family and your place in the world; the second half of the film becoming a survival tale which sees Daisy and her younger cousin, Piper (Harley Bird), trekking cross-country to reunite with the boys (George MacKay, and Tom Holland from 2011's The Impossible) and the pastoral idyll they enjoyed before the war.

Yes there's the seemingly compulsory YA staple of romance (between Daisy and her older cousin; what is it with YA fiction and incest?), but How I Live Now rests squarely on the shoulders of Ronan, a highly capable and intelligent actress beyond her years. Daisy doesn't begin as the most likeable of protagonists but her pluck and strength carry her, and the film through its rough patches.

ENDER'S GAME (Icon Film Distribution, opening December 5) boasts a male protagonist (Ender, played by Asa Butterfield of Hugo (2011) fame) and is set in a more distant future that is also at war. But the film, directed by South African Gavin Hood (he made the Oscar-winning Tsotsi in 2005), and adapted from the novel by Orson Scott Card, is, for all its military bravado and hi-tech explosions, an anti-war film.

After staving off an invasion by an alien insect-like race dubbed the Formecs, the Earth's military forces have been preparing for a return bout; enlisting the best of the world's youth to train, physically and mentally for battle: the powers-that-be believing that young minds have the malleability and out-of-the-box thinking needed to defeat their extraterrestrial enemy.

And Ender is soon deemed to be the best of them, burdened with the role of humanity's saviour while yet to start shaving. Lauded by his commander (Harrison Ford) while initially despised by his peers (the cadet-on-cadet bullying and abuse wouldn't be out of place within the Australian Defence Forces), the sensitive yet headstrong Ender is determined to be the hero, only realising too late that there are no winners in war.

Like The Hunger Games, Ender's Game touches on the subject of conscription and sending young people to fight a grown-ups war. And while it has the look of your typical blockbuster -- the visuals and CGI are impressive -- there's a lot more brain than brawn in this not-quite 'boy's own' (hello Oscar nominee, Hailee Steinfeld) space adventure.

Of course, the best of the book-to-film YA adaptations at present has to be The Hunger Games. They don't come much bigger or -- with the second instalment, CATCHING FIRE (Roadshow Films, now showing) -- much better. Directed this time round by Francis Lawrence (I Am Legend, 2007), Catching Fire successfully expands upon the universe, characters and themes of the first film, even as it repeats the structure (protracted set-up before the actual Games; it's a 146-minute film).

The stakes are upped this time as Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence, even fiercer), having survived The Hunger Games, along with her fellow District 12 tribute and faux lover, Peeta (Josh Hutcherson), must keep up appearances for the less than impressed President Snow (Donald Sutherland).

Angered by her manipulation of the last-man-standing game, and wary of the message of hope it sends the other 11 districts, Snow wants nothing more than to make an example of Katniss and crush any thought of rebellion against the Capitol. So it's once more into the arena for Katniss and Peeta.

Politics, propaganda, conscription, reality TV, the One Percenters and more are all smartly if not always subtly skewered in Catching Fire, but it never forgets that it is first and foremost an action-thriller aimed at (but not exclusive to) Young Adults, with a powerful female character at its centre.

I've not read Suzanne Collins' trilogy of books (inevitably to be four films) but I'd suggest she, nor her readers, could be too displeased with what they've been presented with on screen thus far. Intelligent, thrilling and, yes, emotional, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire gives us (boys and girls) a heroine -- and a YA franchise -- we can root for.

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

FILM REVIEW: CARRIE



Sony Pictures

Now Showing

By Guest Reviewer Aaron J. Smith.

Carrie White (Chloe Grace Moretz) is a lonely and shy teenage girl struggling to cope with an abusive, overbearing and deeply religious mother, Margaret (Julianne Moore). That would be bad enough if it weren’t for the fact that Carrie, like most girls her age, is also having to deal with a rapidly developing womanhood; how to relate to boys; and discovering that she possesses awesome telekinetic powers. Okay, so that last one is a fun rarity.

Carrie suffers an embarrassing incident in the school showers, and is ridiculed by her nasty classmates, led by the school alpha bitch, Chris Hargensen (played with unsettling ease by Portia Doubleday), and Sue Snell (Gabriella Wilde). Chris films the incident and posts it on online, which results in a falling out with the more conscientious Sue.

Ms. Desjardin, the well-meaning gym teacher (the always good, Judy Greer), punishes Chris with school suspension meaning she cannot attend the all-important senior prom. With help from her deadbeat boyfriend, Billy Nolan (Aussie actor, Alex Russell), Chris devises a bloody and callous prank to get back at Carrie, blaming her victim for the punishment she’s been dealt and sewing the seeds of what is to come; for as Chris's rage grows so, too, does Carrie's powers.

If you’re unfamiliar with Carrie’s story, then perhaps you’ll benefit the most from this ‘re-imagining’ of the best-selling Stephen King novel, which has seen two other screen interpretations (and an off-Broadway musical). Brian De Palma’s 1976 version, starring Sissy Spacek and Piper Laurie, is in my Top 5 films of all time; I can’t comment on the 2002 made for TV movie, as I have never bothered to see it.

Director Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don’t Cry (1999); Stop-Loss 2008)) could have easily gotten carried away with a ‘bigger is better’ attitude to justify a Carrie update. Instead, Peirce focuses on believable characterisations and keeps the special effects and gore from going too over the top. Thankfully, Peirce also wisely chooses not to mimic the style of the 1976 original. I would have walked out if the director had copied the fantastic ‘twirling at the prom’ sequence. The great dialogue is still there though (and I still laughed when Margaret refers to breasts as ‘dirty pillows’).

Julianne Moore provides an enjoyably nutty Margaret White in a slightly restrained performance, but the film would have benefited greatly if Margaret was a little more threatening towards her naïve and curious daughter.

Chloe Grace Moretz does an admirable job in the title role (one made iconic by a young Sissy Spacek), but she can’t quite shake off the cuteness of her physical appearance to portray the vengeful rage the climax requires. Moretz is most effective, however, in her scenes with Ansel Elgort who plays Tommy Ross, the sweet and sympathetic boyfriend of Sue, who, in a gesture of good will, escorts Carrie to the prom.

The age-old issue of bullying (and the more timely cyber bullying) adds purpose to the story, helping to contemporise this classic horror tale. But while this Carrie is worth seeing, it won’t be the version I’ll be returning to time and again.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

FILM REVIEW: FILTH



Icon Film Distribution

Now Showing

As Christmas approaches, the only thing Edinburgh Detective Bruce Robertson (James McAvoy) hopes Santa brings him is the highly coveted promotion to Inspector. But even if he didn't have to compete with an assortment of colleagues (including Imogen Poots, and Billy Elliot (Jamie Bell) and his dad (Gary Lewis)) for the job, it's highly doubtful that Robertson would be on top of Santa's 'Nice' list. He's been a very, very naughty boy.

A pill-popping, coke-snorting, beer-swilling Scotsman with a libidinous nature may not be the Force's finest but given that Filth is based on an Irvine Welsh novel (he of Trainspotting fame), adapted by director Jon S. Baird, you'd perhaps be foolish for thinking this despicable yet mesmeric protagonist would be otherwise.

And Baird, making just his second feature, dives head first and full-on into the darkly comic Welsh milieu of drugs, violence, misogyny and despair, aided every step of the way by his leading man; McAvoy playing one of the most unlikeable protagonists in cinema this year yet giving one of its (and his) best, most dynamic performances.

Being assigned to investigate the bashing murder of a Japanese student seems to trigger -- or exacerbate -- Robertson's freefall. When he's not working to undermine his colleagues' chances at securing said promotion (or sleeping with one of their wives), he's buddying-up to mild mannered accountant, Bladesey (Eddie Marsan), abusing his friendship at every turn whilst sexually harassing the man's wife (Shirley Henderson) via dirty phone calls, all the while fuelled by a diet of alcohol and drugs and a barely disguised rage.

McAvoy manages to keep Robertson, and his performance, from tipping over the edge even as he goes to some dark and unpleasant places. You may not sympathise or empathise with the detective but you're seeing the world through his eyes, so turning away is rarely an option. Kudos to McAvoy (embracing his native Scottish brogue) for managing to find the humanity amid the chaos of this broken man.

Unfortunately, Baird feels the need to replicate the noise in Roberston's head for the audience: there is barely a moment in the film that is not accompanied -- or smothered -- by a pop or rock track. Even as the hectic pace of the film's first half slows somewhat, there's never a moment's silence or time for contemplation, for the audience or Bruce: he's guaranteed not to be the only one with a headache.

Filth won't be to everyone's liking, particularly those who are not fans of Welsh's writing or twisted sense of humour (the film, not surprisingly, is rated R-18+). McAvoy's performance makes it worthwhile, but not everyone will be willing to wade through the self-created cesspool his character inhabits.

Monday, 18 November 2013

FILM REVIEW: BLACKFISH



Madman Films

Now Showing

The title for this documentary comes from the name once given to orcas by the Native Americans. We, of course, know them by their less poetic misnomer killer whales, which is ironic given that there is no report of an orca having ever killed a human. Not in the wild anyway.

Gabriela Cowperthwaite's Blackfish, a powerful mix of video footage and talking head interviews, examines the life of one orca, Tilikum, who over 20 years in captivity lashed out at and, yes, killed his human trainers.

Fished from the ocean when just a calf, the male orca, Tilikum, was first taken to a rundown marine park in Canada where the ocean was replaced with what equated to little more than slightly larger backyard swimming pool, and his pod -- which marine biologists describe as very social structures with their own language, and creatures with great emotional intelligence -- were replaced with human trainers.

Following a fatal attack on one trainer, Tilikum was sold to SeaWorld in Florida, where his past violent behaviour was not disclosed to his new trainers, and he was both made to perform for the paying public whilst also producing sperm for the park's very lucrative breeding program.

Interviews with former SeaWorld trainers reveal that Tilikum's violent outbursts didn't end with his relocation to a larger enclosure nor did they stop at what the park's legal team would deny were acts of aggression: more trainers would feel the brunt of Tilikum's displeasure -- described by some marine experts as a form of psychosis -- and, yes, two more people (one trainer, one civilian) would die.

Not that SeaWorld management seemed to care. Trainer error was always cited as the reason for any mishap and the park continued to supply marine parks around the world with both the sperm of the aggressive whale, and whales produced by said seed. Naturally, SeaWorld took no responsibility when a marine park in the Canary Islands also suffered a trainer death.

With Blackfish, Cowperthwaite isn't pulling her punches; very much placing the blame, and rightly so, at the feet of SeaWorld (management were repeatedly asked to appear in the documentary and repeatedly refused) and not Tilikum. "If you were in a bathtub for 25 years, don't you think you'd get a little psychotic?" asks one of the talking heads by way of explaining the whale's behaviour.

Much like 2009's Oscar winning doco, The Cove -- about Japanese fishermen's annual slaughter of the local dolphin population -- Blackfish seeks to inform, alarm, anger and, hopefully, radicalise the viewer. And it should. If the ethics of keeping animals in captivity doesn't move you, the video footage of Tilikum's attacks on his trainers will.

I've never been to a marine park; I now have no intention of ever doing so. If you're thinking about taking the family to Sea World this weekend, I'd suggest you take them to see Blackfish instead. They won't be entertained -- they may not even speak to you afterwards they'll be so shaken -- but in time they'll thank you. Here's hoping one day Tilikum and the rest of his species can too.