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Intsy Wincy Spider.

Folks who caught the Hugh Jackman-starrer Prisoners in 2013 would know the skill of Canadian director Denis Villeneuve to craft a terrific story from a hugely divisive premise, carried largely by some equally terrific acting. In a significant one-two punch for Villeneuve, his low-key thriller Enemy, which debuted during the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival, snagged the director a Canadian Screen Award (equivalent of the Oscars, only for Canadians!) for Best Director. Both films star Jake Gyllenhaal, and both films use a fairly downcast visual style that cements each story in a grim reality of our world, unmistakeably brimming with flavor and squalid social nuance. After my shocking encounter with Prisoners (seriously, it’s a ripping film, albeit a fairly depressing one) I went into Enemy with expectations suitably elevated – I hoped that Villeneuve could maintain his keen eye for human frailty, and hope in the face of utter ruin, and continue with putting films forward that had ambivalent moral messages entangled within desperate ethical dilemmas. Or, a good fight scene. I’d be happy with a good fight scene.

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Black-and-white-mail.

In the late 20′s, cinema was undergoing what was then considered a thunderous change in its very DNA: the advent of sound, particularly the ability to hear the actors on the screen talk, was something new and exciting for studios and film-makers, although initially it would appear audiences were less than adventurous when picking up on the new technology. That, and many cinemas around the world were not really ready to spare the expense of adding in sound reproduction facilities inside their auditoriums, making the uptick of the “talkie” as a selling point somewhat moot. Hindsight obviously gives us some nice chuckles, knowing just how pervasive sound films would become, but remember that at the time it was a relatively unproven technology which was usurping “traditional” cinema markets – and Hitchcock’s Blackmail, released in 1929, is considered a major touchstone for the film industry of the era, thanks to its use of sound. According to the internet (because I have to refer to those who know more about this than I do!) Blackmail was originally planned as a silent film, but somewhere during production the choice was made to convert it to sound: executives wanted half the film to be shot with sound – Hitch thought this was a terrible idea and went about shooting the whole film with the new technology, no doubt realizing the potential for audiences to actually hear what people were saying on the screen! Naturally, Blackmail was a huge success, both critically and commercially, and was praised for its use of sound. With the distance of time, though, and the obvious advances of technology in film, one might look at a pivotal film such as this with a more critical eye than the film perhaps warrants. Considering its vintage, how does Blackmail stack up as a narrative film, irrespective of its use of sound? Is the story enthralling? Are the performances worth a look? Is this Hitch’s proudest British film?

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Edge Of Perfection.

He might be a crazy, couch-jumping, Scientology-loving nutcase, but Tom Cruise doesn’t go into a film with a half-assed performance. If there is one thing you can count on with Cruise, it’s that he invests himself thoroughly within a character (and a film), and it’s through this investment that he remains one of the world’s preeminent A-list superstars. While 2012′s Oblivion may have lacked audience appeal or a fresh plot, Cruise wasn’t the weak link in that film, and he isn’t again here. Not that Edge Of Tomorrow has any real weak links (other than its ending, more on which I’ll discuss shortly); Doug Liman has crafted a thrilling, involving, intelligent sci-fi actioner that will appeal to a broad spectrum audience – with both its leading man and leading woman asserting their authority on the screen, Edge Of Tomorrow is a blast from start to finish.

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James Garner – 1928-2014

Legendary Academy Award nominated film and television actor James Garner has passed away.

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I’ve been to Budapest. This is far better.

Watching films can be a cathartic experience. Sometimes, wading through all the crap ejected from the sphincter of Hollywood’s lower echelon one might stumble upon a hidden gem, a hitherto unheralded masterpiece for which universal acclaim is not only expected, but deserved. Typically, however, one must look externally of the Hollywood Mainstream for a better chance of quality film-making, at least in terms of non-action genres. Independent storytellers are less constricted by commercial demands (but not always),and often deliver “passion” pieces (for want of a better phrase) that work irrespective of mainstream audience expectation. Wes Anderson has been delighting film lovers for years, much like his contemporaries the Coen Brothers, with obscure, laconic, often kooky films that definitely do not fall into the category of “mainstream”. Folks who have enjoyed Rushmore, The Life Aquatic, The Darjeeling Limited and Moonrise Kingdom, for example, would be well suited to appreciate the nuance and delicacy with which Anderson crafts his stories, and Grand Budapest Hotel is no exception. Given that I have yet to tap into the complete Anderson oeuvre to-date (sorry, Wes) I can’t say for sure whether this film is his most accomplished work or not, but I can say one thing with absolute certainty: The Grand Budapest Hotel is one of those films that were it to come out of the Hollywood production line, might very well be missed or avoided (probably the latter more often, more’s the pity) but it really does deserve your time and attention.

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I think they mean Rise of Slo-Motion.

Anyone familiar with pop-culture will doubtless be aware of the significance of Zach Snyder’s sophomore directing effort, 300, the film which launched Gerard Butler and Lena Headey into A-List, and more then enough internet memes. With that film’s success came the allure of a follow-up, yet inconsistent with the Hollywood mantra of churning out direct-to-video slop to capitalize on said success, the second film in the 300 franchise took seven years to come to fruition – an eternity for audiences clamoring to see more of the stylish slo-mo Snyder made (in)famous. Eventually, a prequel film of sorts arrived in multi-plexes around the globe, subtitled Rise Of An Empire. Starring French actress Eva Green, original film co-star Rodrigo Santoro reprising his role as Xerxes, and newcomer Sullivan Stapleton, Rise Of An Empire followed the franchise’s visual beats to the letter, overseen by executive producer Zach Snyder, who was filming Man Of Steel at the time. Considering the original 300′s status among film fans, critics and casual viewers, it’s little wonder that expectation was high (or at least positive) for the follow-up; so what was the result? Is Rise Of An Empire a worthy sequel to the original, or does it struggle to…. ahem, rise to the challenge of providing audiences with a captivating, entertaining mix of gore, brawling and stylish violence?

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Lord of the apeshit.

I’m not sure entirely why Edgar Rice Burroughs’ story about a man lost in the African jungle remains as popular as it is a century after its debut, but 2013′s animated attempt isn’t gonna do it any favors. Produced in Germany, Tarzan is the first major attempt to bring the story to the screen since Disney’s 1999 effort – a seminal film which sent the millennium out in style for the studio – and, as is to be expected with “new” versions of the classic, now made in a motion capture studio. Yeah, I rolled my eyes at that too. For no matter how hard Robert Zemeckis tried, he just couldn’t quite nail performance capture on film; The Polar Express, Beowulf and his attempt at Dickens’ Christmas Carol all found fault with the “uncanny valley” scenario of the human characters in those films lacking “life” behind their eyes, something audiences generally baulk at. And it’s fair to say that the director of this film, Reinhard Kloos, isn’t a director of the caliber of Zemeckis. 2013′s Tarzan falls into the same trap (and a few others, surprisingly) of having its human characters looking a little…. off, preventing the viewer from really attaching emotionally to the film and thus rendering it disappointingly inert.

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Don’t look in the mirror. Or at this film.

It’s fair to say that the older I get, the more jaded and cynical I have become, and nothing nails this feeling like watching a modern horror film. Modern horror, be it the R-rated torture porn of the Saw franchise, or the PG dreck such as… well, everything else, really, has begun to blur into a tableau of mediocre, uneventful, non-creative trash just willing the money from the wallet at the hopeful thought of some blood, gore or hair-raising frights. For every good or great horror film there are about three dozen shitty ones, and these odds do not make a genre fan happy at all. Horror fans aren’t the most demanding viewers when it comes to these kinds of movies, and it’s sad fact that the genre has been looked upon by mainstream critics as a lower class of cinematic tripe, so I guess one could be forgiven for just throwing in the towel and accepting whatever rubbish Hollywood decided to dish up; not me – I expect more from my horror film than just random crash-bang jump-edits designed to elicit a momentary thrill of panic. I expect film-makers to be brave enough to try something new, to experiment a little within the bounds of the genre, to be daring. Oculus, in many ways, isn’t daring at all, but you get the sense that even though director Mike Flanagan was hard up against it with a largely incoherent script, he was at least trying to make this film as good as it could be.

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For those times you absolutely need a gun aboard a plane.

The hardest part about watching mystery-thrillers like Non-Stop is stopping yourself from trying to outguess the hero as to the “twist” or “reveal” before it actually happens. Somtimes, the film twists and turns so much it’s like a damn Moebius strip, outreaching all but the most intelligent viewer with its crucial climax. Other films tend to spoil themselves too early too often, leaving audiences aware of what’s happening but still assuming some mass delusion might have kept one or two folks from figuring things out. Non-Stop falls somewhere in the middle ground of this scenario – it’s a well played mystery thriller, although its third-act twist is jaw-droppingly out of left field, reducing a taut, terrific opening half or so into something less than it aught.

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It’s long been a sad state of affairs that our stable of cinematic heroes – specifically of the action variety – have, by a wide margin, tended to be dominated by men. Name me a dozen male action heroes from the last 20 years and you’ll have no trouble whatsoever. Try that with female stars, and you’ll struggle to list even a handful who have the pop-culture standing to be even worth remembering. It’s this factor which contributes somewhat to Stallone’s Expendables franchise being so testosterone-laden. While modern stars such as Jason Statham and Dwayne Johnson appear in movies seemingly every other week, the lack of female action heroes on our screens is an imbalance that, frankly, needs to be addressed, and soon. Thankfully, though, Hollywood seems to be trying – former MMA star Gina Carano has attempted to make the transition to film, no doubt aided by her bruising, bashing fighting style and grim, determined-faced demeanor giving her a somewhat masculine femininity (is that even a thing?) to bridge the sexual gap between the Statham’s and the Stallone’s of the world, and the girls! In The Blood is a fairly transparent attempt to build Carano’s Hollywood “brand”, with her front-n-center for the entirety of the film as she smashes and crashes her way through the slums of Puerto Rico; does Carano make a solid action star we can enjoy, or is this film another Haywire, devoid of charisma, light on action, and lacking in quality?

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