This film is worthy of viewing purely for Fanning and Stewart as Cherie Currie and Joan Jett. It is so easy to be gripped by Dakota Fanning’s natural ability to play an over-sexed blonde bombshell. The uneasiness you feel watching this is provoked by her prolific identity as a more commonly known child star, although this accentuates the story – the girls of the Runaways were fifteen upon formation and barely sixteen by the time their record sold. Essentially, Dakota Fanning’s own predicament as a young woman with such a sexually heightened role is a spot-on mirror for the way the girls of the band were sold to audiences, at the hands of screwball manager Kim Fowley. Fowley is a perfect mix of sass and the scary side of sexual liberation thanks to Revolutionary Road actor Michael Shannon. It is Kim Fowley’s gusto in refining their image as jailbait that moulds Currie on Bridgette Bardot and gives the band a pin-up girl to contrast the badass and black leather that is lead guitarist Joan Jett. Oh and there are also a few other chicks in this band but here, they unfortunately do not seem to matter…

In fact, the biggest downside to this film lies in that Arrested Development and Whip It star, Alia Shawkat was cast with less than a cardboard bass playing cut-out in mind; her character of Robin is entirely fictional, a mash up of all five of the girls who played bass for the band at some point or another. Shawkat is left with hardly a word to say, which is crap considering she has already proved she can hold her own acting alongside more accomplished actors. Scout Taylor-Compton does well as Lita Ford on guitar and Stella Maeve hits with sticks as one of the best female drummers ever, Sandy West.

That said, The Runaways truly is Kristen Stewart’s film – her proving ground for shedding her Bella coat and respawning as an actress with actual expression. Instantly it is her bad girl swagger, her slack guitar posture and her growly vocals that take this film to the next level. She portrays the movement, attitude and expression of Joan Jett perfectly as she flexes her character through the foundations of becoming the queen of rock and the inspiration for the Riot Girrrl movement of the 90s. Unlike the “sad face” and jittery nature of Bella Swan, Stewart as Jett appears so comfortable and in control, evoking the character of Shane from The L Word to such an extent that she is destined to break hearts – the hearts of other girls. Whilst the Runaways proved you can revolt with three chords and paved the way for such acts as Bikini Kill, Bratmobile and Peaches, Kristen Stewart shows that this is possibly her big F#@* You to the role as Bella that made her famous; In this one movie, she works with Fanning to display more emotion and true devotion to each other than anything within the awkward love-triangle between the sparkly vamp and what’s-his-name, and they have had three films to try and get it right.

Alright, so Floria Sigismondi has delivered a far from perfect movie here and should probably just stick to directing music videos for Muse and Marilyn Manson unless she learns that yes, complexity in narrative and character are beneficial. However, the harsh consequences of addiction and the sexploitation of young girls are thematically powerful enough to pull fantastic performances from the leading ladies, looking past the reality of leaving the Runaways other true stories AND their band mates behind.

Verdict:
This doesn’t compare to other music films like Crazy Heart or Ray, but if you think of it as the music equivalent of what Whip It was to sports films then you will have a good time.  Dakota and Kristen are almost flawless although twilight fans will be shocked to see them making out – with each other. Kudos for Joan Jett and her role as executive producer.

The story opens with a flashback to a fiercely competitive childhood basketball game – a buzzer beating play cements the friendship between teammates and their respect for an aging, clichéd Coach. Cutting to present day and thirty years later, the team reunite under emotional circumstances, the hometown funeral for their old Coach becomes the proving ground for the men each has grown into. Hilariously, the team are reconstructed in a reunion sequence; Sandler as Lenny, and über successful casting agent who pulls the strings of the likes of Angelina and Brad. Kevin James as Eric, who appears to be a successful business man with more to love, especially around his middle. Chris Rock as Kurt, a househusband tired of taking crap from his wife while she makes the babies and the money. Rob Schneider as a sensitive, new age hippy who is openly in love with his third wife, aged approximately seventy. And lastly David Spade, as Marcus the oversexed drunkard; the most unlikely love rat ever to grace a silver screen. As the old team come together again for the American Independence day long-weekend, the dynamics of their friendship group reveals itself in manifestations of playful ganging up on the weakest character at any one time, and a tendency to never let a good joke die.

The screenplay, while lacking in originality, is well structured enough to let many of the strongest jokes resurface, allowing their friendship to be believable. Of course this element could also come from the fact that the actors here go way back,  from stints together as freshmen on SNL through to nearly every movie ever produced by or affiliated with Sandler’s production company HappyMadison. While the previews do them no justice, the posse of wives provides an influential amount of the humour, with Salma Hayek, Maya Bello, Maya Rudolph and an elderly Joyce Van Pattern provoking the personalities of their husbands tirelessly. Family dilemmas are also central to the plot, with Lenny trying to raise men from sons addicted to money, computer games, fashion and texting their nanny for even the simplest of things. Eric’s predicament as a fat dad with a fat daughter is gold, although his four year old son’s obsession with breast-feeding is gross and not funny. As the men meet the state of their lives with anxiety, denial and a whole lot of veritable laughs, it is the generational differences between parents and kids that provides the necessary heartstring tugs essential to any Adam Sandler film. In teaching his kids about life, Lenny shows his little winners what it is like to lose in a sequence that reverses all of Sandler’s other third act outcomes. It is both refreshing and well acted to prove the climactic change in his kids and to preserve the intention of the story – being a “Grown Up” is a big deal, but there is always still room for the kid at heart.

Grown Ups is the cinematic embodiment of Adam Sandler’s filmmaking journey. From his beginnings as a comedian through to the household name he is today, Adam Sandler’s ability to act, write and produce some of the funniest moments in nineties cinema is given a respectful bookend by Grown Ups. Although not as classic as his roles as Billy, Happy or even Bobby, Lenny feels like a careful evolution of Sandler’s comedic style. Now Happy Madison fans will be asking what is next, and our faith in Adam Sandler’s proven work ethic is promise that there will be more films in store. However, getting back to the filmmaking golden roots of Big Daddy or Mr. Deeds may have to be put on hold until after the release of the upcoming Just Go With It, starring *gasp* Jennifer Aniston. This film may be overlooked by Toy Story 3 and Eclipse fans, but it is another satisfying Adam Sandler film that will surely have a big DVD following.

Verdict:

You won’t remember the characters’ names as it’s too easy to see only the actors portraying them, but their conflicts with family, friends and growing up will be easily recognised by anyone up for a good laugh.

In what almost feels like a chronological extension of any previous Lopez rom-com, protagonist Zoe is stuck with the perfect life albeit without a perfect man. In order to rectify this minor issue, go-getter Zoe goes and gets herself knocked-up – by means of artificial insemination, no less – but then quite literally begins the most unexpected journey of her life when she takes a fancy to the bloke who tries to steal her Cab ride, about two seconds after the baby making has occurred. In a series of  coincidental moments where the paths of our heroine and said cab stealer cross, Zoe falls in love with Stan (Aussie stud Alex O’Laughlin) and unbeknown to him, also pregnant. While this all sounds sweet and dandy, and it often is, the problem lies in the expectation that the audience will buy too many of these once-in-a-million coincidences. Thankfully the film is cut with scene after scene of Lopez in comedic situations allowing her physical comedy to shine- like a particularly gross and borderline horrific birth scene attended by the duo in their preparation – leaving little time for spectators to dwell on anything deeper than O’Laughlin’s smitten or shocked expressions and the plethora of cheap laughs.

The Back-Up Plan is the feature film directorial debut of Alan Poul. Poul is a man most renowned for sitting on the payroll of some quality television productions, using his skills as a writer, producer and director for shows such as Swingtown, Big Love and Six Feet Under. Another Television regular, Kate Angelo, provides her first full length screenplay and, playing safe with a formulaic plot will see her employed for popcorn movies for a little while to come. As the highest grossing of four CBS films released insofar this year, The Back-Up Plan is not the financial flop of past J-Lo adventures in the film trade, such as Gigli. That said, there is a reason this one was released during the pre-summer market – this film presents a story formula that we have seen a million times before, presented in the same way a million times before.

What makes this film more rigid than the effortless comedies of Knocked Up or Baby Mama is that Zoe’s predicament was planned and hence, her issues are a result of her own doing. What disallows Zoe the believability to be the character that cannot find a man to marry and breed with, is that Lopez is stunningly flawless at every point in film time, emphasising that she would never, ever have less than a line up of men waiting to give her attention. 30Rock’s Liz Lemon just said it all more believably, and waaaaay funnier with “first i’m gonna buy this [wedding]dress, then i’m gonna have a baby, then i’m gonna die… and find a really cute guy in heaven”.

On a last note, the supporting cast offers many standouts – including Michaela Watkins as the stressed out friend with a well established family of little ferals, Jennifer Elise Cox as an overzealous baby store clerk and Anthony Anderson as the pregnancy and child-wrangling Yoda to converse over a juice-box or several, with an often disillusioned Stan.

If you have kids or want them sometime in the future, this film will appeal probably to you. If you aren’t one of those people, no one will notice if you skip this one.

Verdict:

After efforts like Valentine’s Day and The Bounty Hunter 2010 has not been the year of the romantic comedy for Hollywood. Unfortunately for J-Lo, this movie feels just like her “Back-Up Plan”.

While this film proves Americans, Australians and the British can co-ordinate an effort that is not war, the result is a film lacking in identity. Nobody will believe these characters are actually Americans, certainly not the Americans themselves…and especially not with another Erik Thompson cameo.

This is the story of a regular family, the Conways, torn apart by horrifically tragic circumstances that suspend the mother, Gloria  (Geena Davis) and her remaining two sons, Larry (Harry Cook) and Billy (Harrison Gilbertson), in grief. After a car accident leaves them without the beautiful daughter they once had and takes the life out of Larry’s charismatic twin Eugene – leaving him a vegetable, we jump forward eight years and enter their consequent world. As a coping mechanism Gloria Conway develops an acidic wit, Gene hangs on to life in a nursing home, Larry is a devastated teenage alcoholic and fifteen year old Billy lashes out at his predicament by via escapism in the form of developing a close bond with Gene’s ex-best friend – neighborhood troublemaker Doug Post (Sebastian Gregory) – and getting up to no good.

Tragic circumstances are peppered with hilarious skits portraying their misfortune and asserting it is not deserved, leaving the audience unsure of whether to laugh or cry and the reviewer at  a loss for how to define it; dramedy? black comedy? obsessive compulsive polarity disorder? Like any other Australian movie since the turn of the century but scarily overemphasised, consider The Black Ballon or Beautiful Kate on steroids and still, Accidents Happen feels like the Big Mac meal of Australian cinema.

We are asked to laugh at the characters before us, but the stark contrast between extreme hilarity and extreme tragedy makes us feel like a-holes. The true conclusion is that this movie is actually about the serious catharsis of a dysfunctional family experiencing ferocious and unrelenting grief and their attempts at atonement and healing via escapism. In moves that often feel more like jabs at the American way of life rather than representations of it – a bookend Desperate Housewives style narration and a quietly pot-stirring neighbour – are random influences to the story that avoid impacting the film for everlasting moments.  In a move that will hardly be popular with an American, Hollywood fed audience,  the lack of an audacious ending probably won’t be too well received either.

While Lancaster’s international short film acclaim makes him the ideal to begin an Aussie filmmaking resurgence, the brilliant cinematography and well written story – by American screenwriter Brian Carbee – will not avoid viewers leaving a screening sans experiencing a nagging confusion. This uncertainty exists in questioning why such an obviously Australian movie in direction, acting and financing, was not made with an Australian audience in mind? Why is this, fellow nationals, is not a movie for us? Cue Rove, “WHAT THE?!”

Astoundingly, the wittiest screenplay we’ve seen in years has been brought to life via dodgy, faux American accents and set in an indistinct upper north shore sydney version of suburban Connecticut, USA. There are no overtly American features, aside from the accents, which cannot hide the audible twangs of Australiana anyway. Consequently much poignancy is lost at crucial moments of the movie while spectators lose focus, as I witnessed during this screening, distracted by the cacophony they turned to one another with mocking quips of “oi, did you hear him try and say that?”.

Only two fathomable reasons for this exist, a) Screen Australia has completely given up on our domestic film market; If we fill an Aussie film with the sound of Uncle Sam’s dialect then maybe we can fool our movie-goers into watching it. Geena Davis’ character could not have explained her audience’s predicament better than when her character tells a pair of cops they “swallowed a shit pie, covered in chocolate”.  Reason b) IS Geena Davis herself. She’s stunningly beautiful, funny and plays a role so cut by what she has experienced there would be no doubt about an Oscar nomination, if this were a truly American film. Again, the limitations of fence sitting do bite.

Adelaide’s own Harrison Gilbertson, a genuinely nice kid, was on hand before the screening to talk about this movie and his upcoming projects. As the protagonist of Accidents Happen, his character’s experiences with the wrath of an angry universe meant Gilbertson had a perfect chance to push his acting talent to the limits, and he doesn’t disappoint. On the plus side, he’ll be chased by casting agents for a long while to come. Look out for him in Beneath Hill 60 as well as in the directional debut of Milk screenwriter Dustin Lance Black’s What’s Wrong With Virginia? out later on this year…it looks to be a cracker.

Verdict:

Achingly funny and sad, but quirky in all the wrong places. Far worse than any American ills are Aussies trying to speak like them.

]]> http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/3-stars/accidents-happen-review/feed/ 1 http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/1-star/the-bounty-hunter-review/ http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/1-star/the-bounty-hunter-review/#comments Wed, 17 Mar 2010 23:38:53 +0000 Amy Killin http://cutprintreview.com/?p=9816 After weeks and weeks of sordid speculation by all major celebrity glossies, gossipists the world over can now contain themselves with the knowledge that any steamy romance between Gerard Butler and Jennifer Aniston was either non existent or just not at all hot. I say this to you now in review of the couple’s efforts in their new film The Bounty Hunter, the latest rom-com to fall off the Hollywood production line and be shot into the air by marketing cannons that promised hilarity and hot action. Unfortunately for Aniston and Butler, their onscreen chemistry together is about as romantically inciting and as charismatic as the last two slices of white bread, falling over each other at the bottom of the plastic bag – stale, tasteless and definitely worse for you than it looks. On first thought, their star power seems like a big enough draw-card for a trip to the movies but proves to be the only bankable aspect of this production.

The plot unfolds like a candy wrapper with no sweet inside, as Butler takes on the role of an ex-cop turned bounty hunter, with a gambling addiction and a crazy ex-wife, named Milo Boyd. Aniston is Nicole Hurley, an investigative reporter on the hunt for story details – the most important thing in the world – meaning she defies a court summons and is resultantly pursued by her aforementioned bounty hunter ex-husband. Coincidentally, the audience are expected to believe these developments whilst ignoring any concept of characterization for the two; his dignity is ignored by virtue of plot holes that never fill in why or how he handed in his badge, accrued a gambling debt and lost his wife. Nicole Hurley is, on the same wave, as underdeveloped. Playing a physical personification of a walking and whining piece of steak, happy-go-lucky Rachel from Friends is now so muscular and unnaturally brown she should have been cast in Antz, although she still has the same haircut. They each try to out-do the other in order to fulfill their individual desires but resolve to realize they somehow belong together, a conclusion lost on their audience.

Butler hauls on thorough this story as an all-American type, despite growls of his Scottish accent annoyingly poking through his Alpha Yank façade. If this film is to be written AND sold as a Gerard Butler and Jennifer Aniston flick, then the principal mistake here is to have him play himself with a bonus uncomfortable accent. Especially when Butler’s previous success built from his “sexy” Scottish appeal, think P.S I Love You, parallel to the American-Quarterback-gun slinging hero overused in Hollywood, evident here.

Director Andy Tennant has hit previous high notes with sweet movies such as Fools Rush In, Ever After and Sweet Home Alabama. His film Hitch made us all laugh at Will Smith again, and his direction in Fools’ Gold ensured familiarity with a well framed, shirtless Matthew McConaughey at every chance. Here you can see he is working for the money, as there is absolutely nothing that would set this film apart from being just another second rate, direct-to-DVD if it were not for the names Butler and Aniston attached. There is not even a title song worth remembering. Mention goes to SNL’s Jason Sudeikis who supports humorously as the pathetic and overweight co-worker in love with but not good enough for Nicole. This will only annoy any 30Rock fans out there who know him as Liz Lemon’s one time perfect lover. Christine Baranski plays Nicole’s casino dancing mother Kitty, who should have been named Mutton. Funniest scene involves Aniston crashing a golf cart into a pond, because for just a second, it seems they will not resurface. For a version of the same thing that is ten thousand times better, see Tarantino’s 1997 adaptation of Elmore Leonard’s book Rum Punch, called Jackie Brown.

Verdict:
Your parents might like it just because Gerard and Jennifer are unlikely to appeal to younger audiences…but I doubt it.

]]> http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/1-star/the-bounty-hunter-review/feed/ 0 http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/4-12-stars/crazy-heart-review/ http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/4-12-stars/crazy-heart-review/#comments Wed, 17 Feb 2010 08:43:27 +0000 Amy Killin http://cutprintreview.com/?p=9477 For a man who usually pays his bills by acting small parts in various television series and the occasional film, the story of Scott Cooper’s 2009 rise to fame is nothing short of inspiring. As a first time director on the film Crazy Heart, which Cooper also adapted from a Thomas Cobb novel, he has created a film many seasoned directors could only long for. The screenplay is tight, dramatic and emotive but also quite funny. The cinematography is clear and vast, capturing the space of land and mind within the scope of protagonist, geriatric rocker Bad Blake.

Unsurprisingly, it is a combination of subtle and poignant song lyrics set to the natural rise and fall motion of one man’s hardened life that cannot determine whether this film should be remembered most for its soundtrack or its acting. According to the folks over at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Scott Cooper has coordinated a film in considerable contention for three Oscar awards; Jeff Bridges for Best Actor, Maggie Gyllenhaal for Best Supporting Actress and Ryan Bingham and T-Bone Burnett for Best achievement in Music for their song “The Weary Kind”. If the results of the Golden Globes, the BAFTAS and both the Screen and Actors’ Guilds of America can attest, 2010 looks to be the year of the golden trophies for Crazy Heart.

While still young and stunning, here Gyllenhaal takes on the role of a successful yet strained single mother with a knack for always falling for the bad guy. Truly, it is Maggie Gyllenhaal who brings life to a battered character as small-town journalist Jean. In this film, she falls for the worst of the worst  — a rocker well past his prime that goes by the name of Bad Blake (Bridges)  — and like him for her, she falls hard.

In the beginning their union seems a little weird and honestly, borderline gross. He’s twice her age, dirty and careless. He’s eating, drinking and making his way to an early grave with every one night stand he can get. She’s softly spoken, protective of her son but also weary and timid of the scars she wears in her heart by men who have since passed through. As the two collide she plays him off early, but continually they find themselves in situations that both remind them of emotions of the past and inspire their individual attempts at success – in love and in work.

As Jean becomes Bad’s muse, his music becomes reminiscent of his early genius and as a result, he once again holds the ears of the country music world. Through ups and downs directly influenced by Bad’s alcoholic dependencies and poor health, the couple weather a relationship that was doomed from the start. In resolution of this film the honest beauty is evident in the impact that each had on the other and, how their intersection provided the catalyst that allows Jean to love again and Bad Blake to rock again, back in form.

With amazing input by Colin Farrell, who plays a contemporary country rock god — who neither shoots anything nor broods for too long throughout the entire film — and some fantastic acting by youngster jack Nation as Jean’s son, Crazy Heart portrays a plethora of multi-layered characters as vast and demanding as the harsh environment of the American South-West.

Perfect for those in need of a good emotional cleanse, Crazy Heart does not harp on too much about country music or the country music scene, still affording those less inclined to the genre a decent trip to the movies. Most people will find it hard not to get sucked into Bad’s musical confessions, and will surely find themselves with with a distinctive tune stuck on repeat in their brains for days afterwards.

Verdict:
If you fancy a cinematic cross between Johnny Cash’s story Walk the Line and last year’s The Wrestler then this could quickly become your favourite movie ever.

Like the Italian film Gomorrah and its taking of the Grand Prix Prize at Cannes in 2008, the victory of Un Prophète in 2009 shows once again how the cinema world are still willing to decorate raw filmmaking and violent, gritty storytelling with the second most prestigious prize of the French festival. While Jacques Audiard is no stranger to accepting the most coveted awards offered by Cannes, having once won a Best Screenplay recognition for his work on Un Heros Tres Discret in 1996, Un Prophète almost feels lacking in the screenplay department, with many long sequences uttering only so much as silence as Malik slowly but steadily climbs to the top of the French jail-based underworld. Yet it is at intense times in the film, when Malik seemes cornered and about to meet a sticky end – as a lone wolf-cub in a deadly man’s jail, as the marked man ordered to carry out the Corsican’s dirty work, whilst establishing himself in the drugs industry, and also while juggling loyalties to the Corsicans, the Muslims, his closest friends and ultimately, himself – that Audiard’s subtle brilliance shines through and demands the audience to recognize each volatile point he has withheld until it can be no more.

As the film’s title implies, Malik is presented as some sort of criminal Prophet, making a miracle of his very existence through his ability to stay alive. While in lock-up, Malik gets an education, learns Corsican and then learns to manipulate the two crowds he works with – the Corsicans he has served for five years and the Muslim connections that have always been his birthright. At the same time, however, Malik is smart enough to build his own empire on the outside, while maintaining loyalties to both sides, and effectively comes to control drug trafficking and any unwanted bad guys on the streets of France. Audiard’s suggestion that it is the most religious of men who are the most corrupt – insisted through Christian symbolism hanging from the necks of gangsters, the fact that the Muslim gang is controlled by a local Imam, and Malik’s own abstinence from taking a definitive side and thus rendering himself a renegade in this holy war – all serve only to heighten the tension of the story. Gangster films of past usually always feature two or more sides at war, divided by ethnic differences but united by psychopathic tendencies and greed. When religion adds yet another layer of complexity to the force behind criminal activity, a prophecy of deep hatred and violence becomes a chilling foreshadow for the future.

Definitely not a product of Hollywood, Un Prophète is a sharp look at life on the inside until Malik learns through his gains and losses that there are often more things to live for than violence and crime. That said, despite an undefinitive ending that affords Malik the freedom to walk from prison and into the arms of some resemblance of family, there is no point that comes to end his criminal involvement. Much like the ending of last episode of the Sopranos,  the audience here is left without knowing whether the carloads of dodgy characters who have also come to wait for Malik on his release day are there to follow and kill, or simply there to follow their new leader – their prophet.

Verdict:

Not for the faint-hearted, as many graphic scenes show murder at its most colourful. However, this is a deep look into the eyes of many bad guys and a great example of the direction that French cinema is heading in for the future.

Like pulling teeth, there is no easy way around saying that Dwayne Johnson’s latest film Tooth Fairy, is a complete disappointment. It should be granted that when considering a film about an ex ice-hockey star, relegated to the minor leagues via injury and bitterness who then gets a reality check via a summons to serve as a tooth fairy, we never really should have expected much in the first place. So what if character Derek Thompson doubts the kids in his life and blatantly tells them their dreams won’t work out…what about actor Dwayne Johnson’s debt to his audience for introducing possibly the worst movie of the year…and we’re not even through January yet.

The beauty of a kids’ flick is that they’re around about 90 minutes of film that have to rely on pure storytelling talent, minus the gold, guns and girls of the cinema those of us over the age of fifteen shamelessly love. The mark of a brilliant kids’ movie lies in it’s ability satisfy the entertainment needs of small children, whilst also holding the cynical attentions of persons past accepting the pure blisses of childhood fantasy. We’re all familiar with the brilliance of Pixar and that old conglomerate Disney (which coincidentally owns Pixar), so if it’s easy enough for the  FIVE screenwriters who were paid for this project to steal corny dialogue such as “you can’t handle the tooth” and “the tooth, the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth” dipped from Oxford’s book of modern cliche, it really should have been easy enough for them to just rip off the entire winning formulae of those powerhouse kid’s filmmakers before them. Director Michael Lembeck is of the Santa Claus 2 and the Santa Claus 3 fame, so it’s surprising he is even directing something that is not officially a sequel, although *gasp* this film may one day have one…

Goofy Stephen Merchant stumbles and stutters his way through a stint as Thompson’s case worker at tooth fairy headquarters, and an aging Julie Andrews is so botoxed that even when she’s angry at the ice-hockey defenseman-turned-failing fairy, she is STILL smiling. In The Tooth Fairy, there is no comedic timing, every line is something we have all heard before and the dynamics of the focal family are so stereotypical that they really are bland people: Ashley Judd for example, is a fantastic actress here conformed to the role of a worrying mother only interested in finding the perfect daddy for her ex-husband’s spawn – a sensitive emo boy who hates hockey and a little brat princess. Typically a knockout in her own right, Judd takes on this role with little to no persona, only a few whiney bits of dialogue and baggy sweaters…she’s like a cinderella soccer-mum and her fairy godmother never comes.

Where the screenplay had potential to be laced with laughs and double entendre, only gaping cavities exist. The jokes that do find their way onto the screen – despite even a ten year long screenwriting process on this project – simply have no bite. Instead, every sound that booms forth through the pearly whites of Dwayne Johnson reduces itself, and this film,  to mere cliche, void of any originality. Waiting for the next one liner to pop up in this film at the most predictable moment is akin to waiting in the dentists’ chair when you know you’ve eaten too much candy between visits. The only point that deserves a laugh in this film occurs when all six-feet or so of the ex-wrestler is ridiculously crammed into a tiny pink tutu costume…

Verdict:

The filmmakers should be summonsed for tooth fairy duty to repay their debts to anyone who has even enjoyed a decent movie.

A sharp chiaroscuro of bright white and dark shadows, Abbie Cornish with persistently tear-stained cheeks and an intense polarisation between the personalities of the Poet John Keats (Ben Wishaw) and his muse Fanny Brawne, adds an interesting twist to the age-old tale of doomed lovers which is fathomed between the shifting seasons of three, nineteenth century years. Keats himself enters the picture as a quasi successful poet, twenty three years of age and still wasting away his days aspiring to be a wordsmith of worth. Beside him in misery and artistic angst is his best friend Charles Armitage Brown, played with the perfect mix of wit and arrogance by Paul Schneider of Lars and the Real Girl fame. As the two gentlemen become acquainted with their neighbours, the Brawnes, eldest daughter Fanny takes a fancy to Keats; whose starving artist chic, belief in his own “negative capability”, two brooding eyes and a clever manipulation of the english language could only be compared with what we in contemporary society have come to know as “Emo”. Que the swoon and collective dreamy sighs from ladies everywhere…

From the get go, Campion promises a film told through subtleties. Like poetry itself, this film presents as a puzzle of words, and what we read between and in the absence of them. While Brown gleefully tries to own Ms. Brawne with his performance making mockery of her disdain for learning the value of poetry and her job as a do-it-yourself seamstress each and every time they meet, Keats is a lot slower to respond to the woman at hand. Effectively, he dangles a carrot to make her chase him and then gets angry when she so much as holds conversation with another male.  To make up for this, he later showers Brawne with forest walks, deep love letters and a commitment ring.

A love and mutual respect between the pair grows slowly but surely, and their differences come to compliment their individual views of their world. Most disappointingly, Keats declines to fully commit to Fanny Brawne by avoiding a real job: in paraphrase of this film, using the excuse “but I’m an artist and so I have no money to marry you” is one that many people could still use today, to keep as an effective get-out-of-jail-free-card. In resolution of this film, I was left considering the role of Karma inflicting itself upon Keats – perhaps the TB wouldn’t have killed him if he had just manned up, got a real job and treated his lady the way he kept promising her he would. But that outcome would not have been quite so tragically or poignantly romantic now would it?

Abbie Cornish dominates this film early, even without any of the blonde sass Australian audiences have come to equate her with. Campion has offered the young actress a role that is both challenging and deep, affording a brunette Cornish the room to flex her real acting talent without having to fall back on sex appeal to get her job done well. Despite the hysteria of her character  -a natural product of plot- Cornish holds herself well and relays the effects of shock and grief with ease. Given the cheerful nature of Fanny Brawne before she meets John Keats, it is much easier to be more sympathetic towards her and her loss of him rather than towards Keats and his loss of life. This is also accentuated by the fact that he leaves her because his friends “make” him travel to Italy and also, through the modern realisation that most great poets only get famous posthumous; therefore his death was not whole heartedly unexpected. It’s hard not to agree with the “we told you so” looks upon the faces of her family, after Keats messes her around far too many times concluding with his travels to Italy and his untimely death. While the smooth editing propels this story forward and an intricate use of mise-en-scene allow Campion to flesh out her world and the unique characters within, her rhythm is strikingly slow; whether to capitalise upon poignant moments with the clarity of stillness or not, the film sometimes lacks in charge as a result.

After scoring a nomination for the Golden Palm this year in Cannes, it would be easy to think that this film is an endearing and successful effort. Unfortunately this film is drawn out, particularly through the second act where many of Keats’ problems – financially or emotionally related -  could be solved if only he stopped brooding about being poor and uninspired and just got on with writing or something else. In some parts, this becomes borderline tedium to watch.

Verdict:

Another Campion classic, told with a natural elegance and beauty. Unfortunately it’s often predictable and boring, although the witty dynamics between Fanny Brawne and Charles Armitage Brown are genuinely funny.

]]> http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/2-12-stars/bright-star-review/feed/ 0 http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/4-12-stars/broken-embraces-review/ http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/4-12-stars/broken-embraces-review/#comments Sun, 20 Dec 2009 11:22:39 +0000 Amy Killin http://cutprintreview.com/?p=8769 Beautifully vivid in cinematography and eerily noir in theme, pace and score, Los Abrazos Rotos a.k.a Broken Embraces, is an emotive dissection of heart wrenching circumstances. Love, trust and family cycle the stories of present day and fourteen years before, bridged by one writer/director’s sudden need to recount his own story before he can move on to writing another. Through opening himself up to a much younger man who is his producer’s son, a blind Harry Caine – previously known as film director Mateo Blanco – depicts the tense climate of making a film, falling in love with his lead and dealing with the tragic consequences dealt down by her Chilean financier husband, the rich and miserable Ernesto Martel (played brilliantly by Jose Luis Gomez). Ultimately, Writer/director Pedro Almodovar uses the catharsis of human interaction – our obsessions, jealousies and unintelligence when falling in love – to portray the intensity and importance of honest expression through film.

In the beginning, we meet Penelope Cruz’s Magdelena as a young secretary who works hard but has aspirations for acting fame. With her father on his death bed, the elder Martel enters the story as a caring boss and knight in shining armour to provide her family with the best medical care in Spain. In return, Martel takes Lena as his mistress and provides her with everything she would ever need, with the exception of her ability to feel true love for him. Upon achieving a role in Mateo Blanco’s film, Lena begins a passionate love affair with the writer/director, culminating in the pair’s escape to a picturesque sea side town at the conclusion of the shoot – a sequence in this film that will take your breath away. Through his inability to stand in the way for the force of true love, Ernesto Martel can only watch with vengeance as his young mistress slips through his fingers and into the embrace of a much younger and passionate man than he. Through jealousy and rage, Martel cuts the ties between his mistress and her lover through violent acts against her, having a camera man constantly stalking her, through editing their final footage with all the worst takes and therefore rendering their film an iconic flop, and ultimately through arranging their deaths. For Blanco, escaping with his life but without his sight or his lover seems too much to bear – a man of visuals without his vision, and a man of love without his lover are poignant situations to consider. By taking another name, the new Harry Caine recovers and spends the nest fourteen years working  hard and constantly wondering what could have been.

Across the lifetime of Pedro Almodóvar ‘s filmmaking career, many of his seventeen motion picture gems have been unearthed to become the niche favourites of film fans and critics the world over. At over two hours long, this film would have benefited from a little extra editing and at points becomes predictable due to the way every detail is repetitively stressed. However this is one of Almodovar’s finest films…and will leave you desiring the next project he has up his sleeve.

With Penelope Cruz acting as Almodovar’s leading lady for the fourth time, the screen is illuminated by her presence. Without a doubt, here performance here is reminiscent of the classy ladies of Hollywood’s golden past, channelling the grace of Ava Garner and further, a similar knockout beauty to Marylyn Monroe – Cruz stunningly holds attention as an elegant, but plain secretary standing on the bottom step of acting success, and then  rocks a cropped platinum blonde as the persona she perfects for the film within this film. It must also be added that this film demands Cruz to be on form, allowing more of her acting potential to be seen. No longer is Cruz just another pretty woman to play another part, but a serious actress with the ability to evoke the story being told with an unapologetic charm over her audience.

Almodovar’s film acts as one giant double entendre, mirroring actions and reactions with what characters want and what they actually get to feel. Despite the tragic ending, there is humour beneath it all, and redemption in the recognition that despite the sadness it is the filmmaker’s intention to make us feel emotionally cleansed and happy with the audacious outcome for Harry.  Pedro Almodovar could potentially find a little golden statue man knocking on his door, offering an Oscar for best foreign film, as the hype this film generated at Cannes is not to be underestimated.

Verdict:

Every actor is a stand out, which is ultimately another hat-tip towards Almodovar’s talented direction. A fantastic ensemble telling a really beautiful story that will undoubtedly reach cult status.

Woody Harrelson (No Country For Old Men, 2012) plays the gun slinging, country loving Tallahassee, alongside his bumbling co-star narrator, Columbus. Jesse Eisenberg (Adventureland, The Squid and the Whale) as the American-apparel hoodie wearing Columbus is sweet and nervous. Correlations between his character anything played by indie favourite Michael Cera are undeniable. In fact, it often feels like the filmmakers initially had Cera in mind for the part, but had to settle with Eisenberg.

The immediate differences between our macho-hero and the geek ensure drama at every turn; Tallahassee is a lone rider with no place in mind, only Zombie killing, and Columbus is desperate to reunite with the family he never really felt a part of, get to meet a girl who doesn’t want to eat him and survive to live happily ever after. Things really get sticky while the pair are out twinkle hunting, and when their search yields none of the deep-fried cream treats that Americans love, a plot twist throws them into collision with a pair of gorgeous sisters, or for our heroes – a couple of damsels in distress. One of the highlights of this film is the portrayal of these sisters. Their personalities are not restricted as only the sidekicks and they dominate the heroes effectively without becoming femme fatales. Wichita is played by Emma Stone and the elder of the two, whilst twelve year old Little Rock is My Sister’s Keeper and Little Miss Sunshine star Abigail Breslin, who’s ability to shift between devastated and hilarious within seconds is the stuff of acting legend – and she’s only thirteen years old.

While we have recently been subjected to various screen dominating creatures like Edward Cullen – designed solely to seduce us into a fearful obsession, or something dreamy like that – the zombies of Zombieland positively demand our attention with their putrid physiques, deathly groans, complete lack of intelligence and ingenuity only for devouring other humans. The transitions people make from human to zombie are quick, catching out other unsuspecting humans. This sparks entertaining scenarios of genuine comedic gold, and demonstrate rules that Columbus must adhere to in order to survive. A poor fat bastard is run down by fitter zombies, a guy gets mauled while on the crapper, a mother stuck with car pool duty for a bunch of five-year-old zombie girls – these instances of death for the subjected humans become instances of education for our navigating narrator, and a ton of laughs for us in the audience. Titles appear indicating which number rule we have reached and what it is called – interesting, despite becoming clumsy, chunky blocks of text that dominate the frame at important moments.

As the guys verse the sisters and cat-and-mouse themselves between ownership of anything of value left in the destroyed world – hummers, Cadilacs and a shit load of guns are popular bargaining tools – they realise they must band together to make their way to California, and ultimately into the mansion of legendary actor Bill Murray – who plays himself fantastically. But watch it for yourself to see just how well this film finishes, finding resolution in a simple and content place, without ruin of running for too long or to little.

Well fleshed out characters, heaps of action, funny situations and snappy one liners make this film a success. The eighty-eight minute film was well written by screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, and uncredited re-writes from screenwriting master William Goldman ensure Zombieland hits its mark at every turn. Critics could easily tear Zombieland to shreds – but in consideration of the light hearted spirit, the audacious learnings on finding yourself and your true family and the awesome zombie kills, Zombieland is fast looking like one of the unmissable popcorn movies of ‘09.

Verdict:

A great laugh with heartfelt musings on the end of civilization and on life as prey. Well worth it just for the gazillion funny references to other films scattered throughout.

]]> http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/4-12-stars/zombieland-review/feed/ 0 http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/3-stars/the-young-victoria-review/ http://cutprintreview.com/reviews/3-stars/the-young-victoria-review/#comments Sat, 22 Aug 2009 11:43:24 +0000 Amy Killin http://cutprintreview.com/?p=6858 The Young Victoria is another visually lush period presentation of life within the parameters of luxury, beauty and power which constructs yet another entangled tale of drama and historical inaccuracy. Directed by French-Canadian Jean-Marc Vallèe, The Young Victoria is a snapshot of the Queen’s early days and her experiences with falling in and out of civil popularity up until the birth of her first child, where the film abruptly ends. Despite the fact that Emily Blunt steals the show as the young Victoria herself, her efforts are only enough to slow the sinking of this film. Gosford Park Screenwriter Julian Fellowes does his best to convey the turbulent youthful years of England’s longest ever serving Monarch, but fails to find the point where teenage angst on account of parental pressure, first love and isolation culminate with the excitement, frustration and fear that comes with being hailed the youngest Queen in British history. Many viewers may also find an entertaining similarity between the characters of Victoria and Sophia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette. This film had the potential to be just as fresh and excitable as Victoria’s youth, but has fallen under the period-drama cookie-cutter instead.

In observation, The Young Victoria does succeed in portraying a beautiful young woman trapped in the games of power hungry men, but fails to provide insight into the way the real Victoria fought for her countrymen and held her own in the royal court. After promising some grand things, the opening credits only serve as benchmarks for action that Fellowes and Vallèe could have hit…or at least could have tried to incorporate into their adaptation of truly exciting real life events. As promising as this film began, the ending comes as sharply and as teasingly as the opening credits, offering a plethora of intriguing facts about Victoria, Albert and the life they shared with the English people, only to cut short. This is without ever showing any real dramatic action: The revolutionary virtues of the Queen, her influences in the advancements of education, welfare and industry were never expressed substantially more than as passing thoughts, and her rule of the monarch is really only shown as her ability to dodge hostile and gossipy conditions within the palace walls.

The strong British cast work well together, with Jim Broadbent as King William still as quirky as ever, and clearly continuing to glow after his fine form earlier this year in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Harriett Walter as Queen Adelaide is a darling – her advice, sympathy and genuine love for her niece, her husband’s predecessor, is what makes her memorable.

Unfortunately for Blunt, not much of the sass she worked so well in The Devil Wears Prada was afforded her character here, although a wasted opportunity to make her character seem more daring, more funny and mostly, more human. Blunt and her counterpart Rupert Friend, as Prince Albert, do give The Young Victoria some hold over other period dramas – their love is passionate and feels real enough, when many historical romances continue to be portrayed as male-dominated-and-dull power struggles – but this is not enough to set the film apart from a visual representation of a Mills and Boon novel.   If you find yourself rubbing your eyes to get a clearer look at what is happening in Victoria’s world, don’t worry because it isn’t you – cinematographer Hagen Bogdanski finds it somehow necessary to substitute most camera movement for the handy pull focus, but after several, this only becomes annoying… and not at all “arty”.

Between the bookends, the audience are subjected to anticipating each letter passed between Victoria and Albert, and the politically motivated but not at all romantic advancements of Lord Melbourne, as if in real time. The main point of action happens so late in the game and is weirdly used as the plot point that spurs on the resolution. This occurs when Albert throws himself between his love and a bullet intended for her head, only to receive a grazed arm and the acceptance he needs to fully stand alongside his woman in a position of power and not just as a “poor man with a rich wife”. The incident, although historically inaccurate as Albert was never hurt in any one of Victoria’s many assassination attempts, had the potential to convey a real sense of fear and adrenalin to the audience but denies this by utilising an extended period of slow motion. This effectively stops the pulse of the one trickle of action without heightening the drama at all.

While the gold here is mostly expressed through Victoria’s disdain for cutthroat dalliances in politics and the royal power games played by all, her entrapment is cheesily evoked through imagery of iron window bars, heavy, locking gates and the exploitation of the game of chess as a constantly referenced metaphor for her own battles. Watching the chess scenes and one out of place, chess themed dream sequence, were like awaiting a train that was not coming…aside from provoking intrigue surrounding the relationships within a plot line that went nowhere, they simply felt unnatural for Blunt and Friend. When Victoria finally breaks under the pressure of gossip and manipulation, Albert is the one subjected to her rage – and he is the one who only truly cares for her.

For a film produced by Scorsese and the Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson, it is easy to see who had a say in the way this film was made. Disappointingly, this film has replaced factual events with ones that have been fictionally “heightened”, despite the fact that a more entertaining movie could probably have been made from a greater use of the source material in the first place. This film does score points for appropriate casting, and the beautiful location shooting gives this work a postcard-from-Buckingham-palace feel. Hopefully more attempts to tell the story of Queen Victoria will be made, because despite the conveyance of her world in this film, she did live an interesting and turbulent life.