Author: Ben Browne

Chloe

After the Fantastic Four films, I was feeling in the mood for a different kind of movie. Preferably without Jessica Alba. So, I watched Chloe. I don’t know what it is, but after watching Bully, I’m cautiously seeking out angst and tension. Perhaps I’m just indulging my inner whinging teen.

Chloe (2009)


The first thing I heard about Chloe was that the young, toothy one from Mamma Mia! was doing her first “serious role” after famously lezzing off with Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body. I intially balked at the idea of Miss Seyfried comfortably holding her own with veterans like Neeson and Moore, but because both time and this blog have proven that I’m a bit of a knee-jerk reactionary prick, I decided I’d give the film a go. Also I heard it has a lot of nudity in it.

“My husband’s cheating on me. At least, I think he is.”


Chloe is a remake of the French film Nathalie… and has the same basic story. Chloe tells the story of Dr. Catherine Stewart (Julianne Moore) who starts to suspect her lecturer husband, David (Liam Neeson) of cheating on her. After a while, Catherine’s suspicions get the better of her and she hires the titular (in all possible senses of the word) Chloe (Amanda Seyfried), an escort, to tempt her husband to see if his eyes (and other parts of his anatomy) are indeed a’ wanderin’. The story itself is sound and often quite gripping, but it ultimately falls apart in the third act, undoing any atmosphere the first two acts created. Julianne Moore and Liam Neeson are both good, but neither of them put in a career-defining performance. However, I truly think Amanda Seyfried is great in this. I’d previously written her off as sappy rom-com fodder, due to her being in mawkish toss like Dear John, but she puts in a solid performance tinged with an unsettling creepiness.

In my admittedly limited opinion, America can’t do mainstream eroticism well. The term “erotic thriller” personally conjures up terrifying images of Mickey Rourke’s leering face in Nine 1/2 Weeks or Willem Dafoe trying to burn some acting out of Madonna with candle wax in Body of Evidence. Whilst Chloe is definitely better than those thudding anti-boners, it does suffer some of the same problems. Part of Catherine’s anxiety is her waning confidence in her ageing body, not being able to turn her husband’s head like she once did. However, Catherine is played by Julianne Moore-a glamourous Hollywood mainstay who has a body most women would kill their beloved household pets for. It undermines the very point the film is trying to make which results in a confused overall message.

There are some genuinely surprising twists in the tale, but a lot of the main plot points are concluded very predictably. As I said, the third act collapses under its own weight and left me feeling quite cold. It’s a shame as the film does have some decent moments up until then. There’s a fantastic scene where Catherine asks Chloe how she deals with her less attractive clients and she simply replies that she just tries to “find something to love”. The main mystery of Chloe the film and Chloe the character is her motivation. Sometimes it seems it’s the money driving her, other times it seems that Chloe is just a sensitive young woman who has a gift for ignoring peoples’ defects and focusing on one small, loveable detail. Later on in the film, when Catherine bluntly states to Chloe that their “business transaction, which is what this was, is over! “.The hurt which is evident on Chloe’s face is palpable and empathy is immediate. Atom Egoyan keeps us guessing what Chloe’s all about throughout, which is admirable in an age where most people seem to want their films to have 2 dimensional characters and all loose plot threads tied off.

“I guess I’ve always been good with words.”

So, Chloe. It’s a well-acted character piece let down by a trip to Ridiculous Plot Advancement Land two-thirds of the way in. It’s too psychodramatic at times, but there’s some decent dialogue and ideas here that balance it out. However, I can’t help but feel the whole film isn’t nearly as important as it believes it is and as a result it’s more of an anxious gasp of a film than the sustained, steamy web of intrigue it would like to think of itself as.

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer

Yep, changing up the ol’ formula by reviewing a sequel just after reviewing the original. I swear to God, these ideas just come to me…

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (2007)

 

Well, despite what the large text above the poster and the small text actually on the poster say, the film is officially called 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer. This may have been to prevent the inevitable “not-so-fantastic four” jokes after the slice of average that was the first one, but whatever, it’s stupid. So, in a stunning act of internet vigilantism, I have called the film by what it should have been called. It may sound silly to you, but fuck it- it’s not actually going to make the film better or anything…

“All that you know is at an end.”

The story is as follows: Reed Richards (Ioan Gruffudd) and Sue Storm (Jessica Alba) are struggling to balance their new-found celebrity status and their personal life, trying to tie the knot for the fourth time without any interruptions. Ben Grimm aka The Thing (Michael Chiklis) is still with his blind girlfriend Alicia and Johnny Storm (Chris Evans) is still living the life of a playboy. However, when a strange cosmic being nicknamed The Silver Surfer (voiced by Laurence Fishburne) starts fucking up the weather and heralding the end of the World, the Four step in to prove that they deserve their “fantastic” prefix. To be honest, the plot isn’t great. Instead of focusing on a new baddie for the Four to square off against, they have a sort-of baddie in the form of The Silver Surfer, a huge destructive force in the form of the (thankfully not pink) transplanetary ponce Galactus and (sigh) Dr. Doom from the first one. It’s just needlessly clogged. The whole wedding drama element proved that I can find even superpowered nuptials boring. My notes on the casting still ring true, although this time round they somehow managed to make Jessica Alba look like she belongs in White Chicks. The only notable addition is the Silver Surfer himself, who is brilliantly realised by Doug Jones’s physicality and Laurence Fishburne’s booming voice.

There’s something about Rise of the Silver Surfer I just don’t like. I think it’s mainly to do with the fact it isn’t as fun as the first. The few things they got right in Fantastic Four are changed for the sequel. This is particularly true in the case of Johnny Storm, whose lines are nowhere near as good as in the first one and veers into annoying comic relief territory. They also tack on some bullshit “settling down” notion for Johnny to deal with which makes things needlessly stodgy. The power switching thing is also rubbish and you’d have to be thicker than a walrus casserole to not guess how it’s all resolved.

Another thing that shreds my petunias is the fact that they make Sue the “emotional heart” of the film, with the majority of scenes not containing shit blowing up dedicated to Alba doing her best acting face whilst interacting with the Silver Surfer. It’s the same thing X-Men: The Last Stand did, and we all know how that turned out. It’s very patronising to make the only female in a group deal with all the emotional stuff. You’d have thought both Marvel and Fox would have wanted to stay as far away from the piece of X-Shite as possible.

“You know, you don’t look completely ridiculous in that dress.”

Rise of the Silver Surfer isn’t all bad. The action is alright and there are snatches of enjoyment to be had here and there (The London Eye sequence is entertaining despite some ropey CGI) but there’s a feeling of wasted potential that brought the whole thing down for me. A sequel was a chance to fix the faults of the first and capitalise on its successes, but all it does is make new mistakes in addition to the old ones. In summary, if the first film was an average, but perfectly nice cheese sandwich, Rise of the Silver Surfer’s sandwich looks very much like the first but when you take a bite, you realise the cheese has been replaced by your own hand.

Fantastic Four

I was genuinely surprised to find that I hadn’t reviewed the Fantastic Four films. Here was me thinking I had the Marvelverse covered and I haven’t even reviewed the lesser known Marvel properties like Daredevil. Still, this changes now with a review of 2005’s Fantastic Four (the less said about 1994’s The Fantastic Four the better). I never want to see the words “fantastic” and “four” ever again.

Fantastic Four (2005)

The early 2000s were pretty good to a nerd like me. After X-Men came out and Spider-Man made huge money at the box office, comic book rights were hastily bought and shoved into production with varying degrees of success. At the time, Fantastic Four was the latest in a long line of superflicks trying to get a sneaky piece of the ludicrous money pie cooling on the windowsill of Hollywood…

…That’s the first time I’ve made myself vomit from my own metaphorical shittery.

“You don’t want to walk around on fire for the rest of your life, do you?”

After a space mission goes awry, scientists Dr. Reed Richards (Ioan Gruffudd), Sue Storm (Jessica Alba), Ben Grimm (Michael Chiklis) and Johnny Storm (Chris Evans) are hit by radiation causing them to gain superhuman abilities. However, the stupidly named Victor Von Doom (Julian McMahon) has super-beef with Richards and will stop at nothing to end the Four. The plot is that superhero plot. Average people encounter some kind of radiation and it enables them to so impossible things. It’s like Spider-Man in space with a vague “space storm” taking the part of the spider*.

Rarely does a film get the casting this wrong. Ioan Gruffudd is a baffling choice for Reed Richards. He’s a good actor, but hardly suited to the role of a middle-aged, all-American genius scientist. In a similar vein, why the hell cast the naturally dark haired, dark complexioned Jessica Alba as blonde haired, blue eyed Sue Storm? It is certainly not due to her acting abilities, so if we’re going purely on looks and how good the actress looks in a skintight jumpsuit, surely someone like Scarlett Johansson would have been a better bet? Michael Chiklis is pretty good as The Thing, but all that’s really required in the role is a gruff voice and a tolerance for sitting in the make-up chair for hours on end. Chris Evans is really entertaining as The Human Torch, sticking fairly close to the comics in terms of Johnny Storm’s personality. Oh- Julian McMahon is also fucking terrible as Dr. Doom- I’ve seen scarier bowls of cereal.

As I said way back when in my Push review, I’m sick of people gaining powers and not enjoying them. It’s refreshing to see the Johnny Storm character actually have fun with his burgeoning fire powers. It could be said that the film itself tries to have more fun with the notion of superpowers than your average superhuman whinge-’em-up. OK, three of the Four treat the powers as a burden, but in no other superhero film would you get a musical montage halfway through where a character uses his powers to remedy the dreaded “no bog roll” situation whilst in lavatorium (Yes, I know that’s not a) a common euphemisim or b) real Latin- so shut up.) Fantastic Four is all about the lighter side of the superhero spectrum in which it has little company- well, excluding the sequel anyway. It’s nice to see a comic based film without cripplingly depressing stretches. The post extreme biking scene where the Four clash publicly over Johnny’s childish attention-seeking is particularly great and contains the brilliant Thing-directed line below:

“You think that’s funny, Pebbles?”

Fantastic Four is a fun but flawed film. There’s some decent action and enjoyment to be found in the interactions between the Thing and Johnny Storm, but it’s just too average as a whole to be anything more than a throwaway popcorn flick. As I said, I like it for its levity in a genre swamped with gritty hyper-reality, but is by no means an essential watch.


*Speaking of Spider-Man, keep it in mind whilst watching this. The boardroom scenes completely rip off the first Spidey film. Shameless thievery.

Bully

In an effort to once again prove to readers of this blog that I’m not just a blockbuster dullard who watches stuff like Transformers on a loop, pausing every 20 minutes to bash one out to either Megan Fox’s physique or Optimus Prime’s perfectly rendered face, I watched Bully– a film with no robots, no tie-in video game, but acres of gratuitous naked teen flesh and shocking violence. I can only pray that a video game is in the works.

Bully (2001)


“Angst” is an annoyingly misused word. Chances are you’ve heard of “teen angst” thanks to overhyped toss like Skins and the like. It’s all very patronising. It’s all so middle-aged bankers can neatly label the odd behaviour of their skull-fucked teens and get on with their boring lives. Bully redefines angst and unease and conveys it so damn well, it’ll leave your mind reeling for longer than you’d like to admit.

“I’ve got to ask you something, Marty. Why do you let Bobby treat you the way he does?”

Bully tells the story of Marty (Brad Renfro) and his gang of waster friends who are driven to the point of desperation due to the actions of a bullying, fucked-up, A-grade wanker by the name of Bobby Kent (Nick Stahl). After some pushing by his girlfriend Lisa (Rachel Miner), Marty decides that Bobby needs to be forcibly removed from this mortal coil. The plot is gripping from the off, especially so as it is based on a true story. It’s a genuinely chilling thought that the things that transpire in this film actually happened- something which works to the film’s credit. The leads are brilliant without any real exception, although Michael Pitt’s stoner Donny did grate slightly- a small annoyance counteracted by the fact that he has nearly all the best lines.

The central tragedy of Bully is that these kids are dealing with shit way above their comprehension. When the idea of killing Bobby first comes up, it’s said in a flippant, jokey-type way and their plan never really evolves past that. We identify with the motivation, but know deep down the gang are too youthfully stupid to carry it out properly. This is typified when they hire a “hitman” (Leo Fitzpatrick) on some vague recollection he has ties with the Mafia. Once (invisotexted) Bobby has bought the farm, it’s pretty heartbreaking to see the strong group break down due to guilt and fear and start blaming each other.

Bully is a tough, but rewarding watch. Some of the scenes are almost unbearably unpleasant to view but stick it out, oh fictional fan of my reviews- you’ll thank me eventually. One scene in particular where our clueless crusaders put their macabre plan into action is so fucking tense, I had to talk myself down from leaping out of the nearest window just to escape the gritty harshness on screen. Bully is also fantastically shot, with director Larry Clark’s love of the teenage form on full display. It’s all shot in such a way that you as the viewer feel like an intruder on these kids’ lives, rather than just a casual observer.

“Are there any alligators in there?”

So yes, Bully is a superb film. It’s a fantastic insight into the extremes of human behaviour packaged up as a powerful 113 minute punch. It’s certainly not the sort of film you put on after a long, shit day to forget all your troubles as more often than not, Bully is about as cheery as a mass kitten burial. However, you should make time to watch it. It’s brilliantly affecting and affectingly brilliant.

Gran Torino

I genuinely can’t think of anything to put here, so I’m just going to witter on for a few lines. This is so the casual observer will think that I’ve actually taken the time to write a suitable preamble. But I haven’t. I must be a genius.

Gran Torino (2009)


I just like seeing Clint Eastwood. From the Dollars trilogy to Million Dollar Baby, I just find the man a pleasure to watch. He’s not the best actor in the world, but he definitely has an old-school presence about him- a quality which (arguably) a lot of modern actors do not possess.

“Oh-I’ve got one. A Mexican, a Jew, and a colored guy go into a bar. The bartender looks up and says, “Get the fuck out of here!.”


Cantankerous grumbler and war veteran Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood) yearns for the America of yesteryear. His wife passed away, he’s patronised by his family and his neighbourhood is predominately populated by Asian families. However, when his beloved mint condition 1972 Gran Torino is almost stolen, Walt is slowly forced to build an uneasy friendship with his Asian neighbours. The story is really good, with Walt’s evolution from stay-at-home bigot to actually rather friendly bigot, both believable and charming. Clint Eastwood is pretty decent as Kowalski, playing him more along the lines of “Dirty” Harry Callahan than anything else. Sure, Eastwood is a bit of a one-trick pony when it comes to acting, but when the trick’s as enjoyable as this, I don’t mind. His performance veered into almost self-parodic territory at times, but is eventually all sorted out by the time the credits roll.

Gran Torino is a great watch marred slightly by a thick layer of cheese. It’s very easy to say something is “cheesy” and move on like that description somehow suffices, so I’ll try to explain what I mean as best I can. Gran Torino seemed to take itself very seriously from the way everything is presented. I was on board with the film when it seemed like Eastwood was giving Kowalski a comedic edge, be it growling like a dog or his slow, burning rage at the infantilising being dished out by his son and his daughter-in-law, resulting in this brilliant face. It was refreshing when Kowalski was unleashing his substantial knowledge of racially insensitive words and phrases. By the end, all or nearly all of Kowalski’s traits have been eradicated in favour of the more socially acceptable end of the characteristics spectrum, which I found to be a shame. It’s always the way in Hollywood films- rude, social outcast reluctantly is befriended by an outsider and slowly learns that he’s been wrong all along, changes his ways and becomes a better person. The basic plot similarities between this and Disney/Pixar’s Up are quite striking.

Although the film focuses on Walt’s interactions with Thao (Bee Vang), I thought that the relationship between Kowalski and Sue (Ahney Her) was the strongest thing in the film. It’s realistic without being mundane and charming without being twee. The scene where Walt protects Sue from some local thugs and then drives her home, for instance, is brilliantly done and well-written. It’s no coincidence that I found Sue’s story arc to be the most emotionally affecting of all the characters. Although the scenes with Thao were good, some of them were almost overwritten to the point of the two trading soliloquys rather than just two normal people talking.

“But you, you just let her walk out right out with the Three Stooges. And you know why? ‘Cause you’re a big fat pussy. Well, I gotta go. Good day, pussycake.”


As I said, Gran Torino is a fine film. I just wish I hadn’t guessed the end 20 minutes before it ended. At its best, it’s a decent flick about acceptance ‘n that. At its worst, it’s an Eastwood vanity project with a sappy moral centre. It’s worth a watch, but don’t be shocked if your eyes start rolling uncontrollably towards the end.

The Damned United

The World Cup hasn’t even started and I’m sick of it. I’ve seen the St. George’s Cross on almost everything imaginable in the run up to South Africa. I feel like the damn flag’s tattooed onto my retinas. Anyway, I’m not going to pretend I know that much about football but I did just finish watching a film about the good ol’ beautiful game, the 90 minute rollercoaster, that game played primarily with the feet, the- y’know what? I really have no fucking clue what I’m on about…

The Damned United (2009)


Yeah- I don’t know much about football, let alone the personalities involved. I’d heard of Brian Clough and him being “the best manager England never had” but other than that, not much else. I gather that The Damned United isn’t the best place to start learning more about the man, considering the source novel’s loose grip on reality, but fuck it- I can’t unsee it now, can I?

“I wouldn’t say I was the best manager in the country. But I’m in the top one.”

As I said, The Damned United is based on the novel of the same name, concerning the life and times of Brian Clough (Michael Sheen), with special focus on his infamous time managing the then top of the league Leeds United. What I liked about the film was the level of characterisation throughout. I had a horrible feeling that the film would be a 98 minute sappy love-letter to the game. However, football is merely the backdrop to the big personalities of Clough, Peter Taylor (Timothy Spall) and Clough’s nemesis, Don Revie (Colm Meaney). As far as I can tell, Michael Sheen is great as Clough, presenting us with an arrogant, stubborn yet somehow likeable man. I thought Timothy Spall was good too, giving a lot of heart as Clough’s aide and best friend.

We actually see very little football on-screen, which works really well. There’s a fantastic scene where Clough is pacing around his office as his Derby side take on Revie’s Leeds, with the score only indicated by the roar and silhouettes of the crowd. It’s an effective sequence which really draws you in to the emotion of it all. It’s interesting to see how football has changed over the years too. The footballers in The Damned United all look about 50 and like they’ve been on a five-week fried breakfast and whiskey diet. It’s a far cry from the poncy, perfectly coiffed millionaires that hoof a ball about today.

Clough is a fascinating character, often seeming quite mad in his desire to be the best. It’s a genuine thrill to see Clough’s “hell with it all” attitude and plans succeed and painful to see them fail. I felt that his friendship with Pete Taylor was a little too overstated, as the number of “look- they’re the best of friends!” scenes prepared me for the inevitable breakdown of camaraderie between the two. The rivalry between Clough and Revie is probably the most curious aspect, as the film suggests that the bad blood between them was caused by Revie not shaking Clough’s hand after a match. It seems oddly petty, but the way Clough is presented makes it seem pretty plausible.

“We’re from the North, Pete. What do we care about Brighton? Bloody southerners. Look where we are! We’re almost in France!”

If you don’t like football, don’t be put off seeing The Damned United. It’s actually more of a character study of people who just happen to be involved in the sport than anything else. It’s also got a great Michael Sheen performance and some solid supporting acting by Timothy Spall and Jim Broadbent to enjoy as well. Catch it if you can.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time

Despite their uniformly shit past, I quite like the idea of films based on video games. With fantastic space epic Mass Effect being the latest to have the movie rights snapped up, it’s not a trend that’s going to slow down for a while yet. Anyway, as a fan of the source material- that is the PS2 reboot The Sands of Time, not the original 2D Apple II game, I thought I’d check the film.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)

I must admit, Jake Gyllenhaal is an odd choice for a beefcake hero. He’s a good actor, but surely a bit too wet to be an action lead? Still, I thought that of Matt Damon before his turn as Jason Bourne in The Bourne Identity, so I was open to being wrong. I liked the idea of the setting too. Thank fuck we are in a time before guns, cars and Justin Bieber*. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty goshdarn fed up of supposedly epic shootouts and car chases. They just all blur into one these days. Enough of this tangential nonsense- Prince of Persia time.

“The gods have a plan for you. A destiny.”

Former street urchin, now adopted Prince, Dastan (Jake Gyllenhaal) is framed for his father’s murder. Dastan has no option but to flee with beautiful Princess Tamina (Gemma Arterton) and somehow clear his name. On his travels, he learns that Tamina possesses a mysterious dagger that can rewind time. A dagger that every crook and ne’er-do-well wants to get their evil hands on. The plot is pretty basic with most of the twists and turns guessable from a bus ride away. The rewinding time gimmick works well though, adding some intrigue and unpredictability to the cookie-cutter plot. Gyllenhaal is pretty good as Dastan, although he’s still a bit too much of a simpering fop at times for me to fully buy him as a ripped badass. The name “Dastan” bugged me a bit as well, if only for its similarity to the lead in this woeful film. Gemma Arterton doesn’t do much outside of being attractive and could have quite easily blundered in from the set of Clash of the Titans without even needing a wardrobe change. Sir Ben Kingsley-Fossington-Smythe III didn’t have to do much either. He was just The Hood from the megacockflop Thunderbirds film with heavier eye make-up.

I realise that in a film like this, the plot is only there to connect the big money action sequences. However, stop me if this sounds familiar: A rich, powerful nation attacks another nation on the basis that they have hidden weapon production facilities. When the powerful nation invades, there are no weapons to be found. Yes, it’s the old WMD plot again, reworked to take place in ancient Persia. I’m getting so fucking sick of throwaway, popcorn films trying to make themselves “relevant” by ripping from recent headlines. I go to the cinema to escape the depressing reality of daily life, not to be reminded of it. It’s taking real world events and fictionalising them in such a way that even our own recent history feels unreal. It’s enough to make me go and get the movement and communication lobes of my brain pierced until I’m in a drooling stupor in the corner, mostly silent except for occasionally giggling at my own farts. Even dribbling ignorance is bliss.

“I’ve seen it’s power with my own eyes. Releasing the sand turns back time. Only the holder of the Dagger is aware what’s happened.”

Speaking of the big money action sequences, of course they’re impressive. There’s a frenetic chase across the Persian rooftops and some decent sword fighting to look forward to. I felt that the ostrich race was a step too far, but all in all the action bits were decent. The ending sequence is CGI’d to within an inch of its life, but it doesn’t spoil the rest of it too much. I also must applaud the fact the film isn’t in 3D- it is sadly a rare thing to watch a blockbuster without having to wear those retarded glasses. Still, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time is enjoyable. It’s your average big action film with a Persian flavour- and there’s nowt wrong with that.


*I will never get sick of Justin Bieber. That Baby song is lyrical genius.

Lesbian Vampire Killers

Another hopefully not gash review of a definitely gash film. Enjoy.


Lesbian Vampire Killers (2009)

I remember first seeing the above poster and smiling at the title. After all, it’s scarily close to one of my intended pieces of filmic genius: Blood! Death! Lesbians! Part II. When the cinema release rolled around, I found myself in a gripping state of “couldn’t be arsed”, so I forgot about it for a while. The terrible reviews served as proof that I’d chosen wisely. Still, since the gods at LoveFilm decided to send me the disc, I thought I’d better review it- lest I watch a film and not feel the need to share my thoughts on a little seen film blog.

“Hahahahaha! It’s got a big metal cock for a handle!”

After Jimmy (Matthew Horne) is dumped by his serial relationship ending girlfriend, his friend Fletch (James Corden) decides they need a break and they go hiking in a small Welsh town, unaware that the town is under a curse that turns girls into lesbian vampires on their 18th birthday. The plot is a knowing spoof of the classic Hammer Horror films, but send-up or not, it’s still bad. By the end, I just didn’t care at all for any of the poorly written characters. The acting is pretty good, but the script snuffs any glimmer of enjoyment there may have been in favour of more shit jokes, of which there are ample.

It’s nigh-on impossible to not mention Shaun of the Dead in all this. Two actors, one fat, one thin, fresh from a cult TV show, do a horror comedy and it gets them famous. However, what Horne and Corden don’t seem to realise is that Shaun of the Dead worked because it was extremely well-written. Lesbian Vampire Killers‘ banter aims for the same back and forth that Shaun and Ed had, but misses it entirely. Take this choice exchange and tell me if it doesn’t want to make you punch a kitten with rage:

“Fletch: This is all getting a bit weird, eh? Women going missing, towels covered in blood…

Jimmy: Well it’s not really “covered”, it’s more of a light spotting…

Fletch: (Sarcastically) Oh well, that’s alright then…”

What annoys me most of all is that the film seems to think it’s actually funny. It’s like some twat at a party who keeps telling shit jokes, but everyone’s too embarrassed to call him out on it. Only, Lesbian Vampire Killers is worse, because you can at least physically throttle the unfunny party twunt if you so wish. Some of the gags were so hackneyed I had to stop myself from turning it off, lying on the ground and seeing if I could headbutt my way through to China. Not a good sign.

Lesbian Vampire Killers bills itself as a “horror comedy” but as it isn’t scary and is certainly not funny, it’s actually a “_________”. It’s simply a film -and a bad one at that. It even had the audacity to set up a possible sequel, something which terrified me to my very core. Please, for fuck’s sake, avoid this “film”.

Clash of the Titans

Yeah, yeah- I know. Clash of the Titans has been out for ages and has probably disappeared from cinemas altogether by now, but trust me- you’re not missing much anyway. Consider this some friendly advice before you pick it up to watch with your beer and kebab on a Friday night. You’re welcome.

Clash of the Titans (2010)


Although my personal summer blockbuster season started with Iron Man 2, Clash of the Titans was arguably the start of this year’s heavy hitters. It’s got all the elements of a successful popcorn no-brainer. It’s a remake, it’s a story that people will know anyway,-so all the ‘tards won’t be challenged with anything “new” or “edgy”, it’s got Sam Worthington, fresh from the bafflingly popular Avatar and it’s in motherfucking 3D. It should have had “dumb but fun” written all over it. The words “should have” are the key ones there. Should. Have.

“Every step we take is an insult to the gods.”

After his adopted family are murdered by Hades (Ralph Fiennes), half man, half god, all twat Perseus (Sam Worthington) decides to take revenge on the king of the Underworld as humanity starts to rise up and not only question, but start a war with the gods. I can’t really fault the plot as it is classic mythology- it’s been around for centuries for a reason. What I can fault is the execution- which is fucking terrible. Sam Worthington muscles around the screen blundering into one video game level after another, whereas Gemma Arterton, playing love interest Io, is wasted and may as well not have been in the film. Liam Neeson doesn’t exactly stretch himself and is made to look utterly ridiculous in some kind of disco armour that glitters perpetually. The only interesting characters are Mads Mikkelsen’s Draco and Ralph Fiennes’ Hades who chews any parts of the scenery that haven’t been enhanced by CGI. Seriously, I haven’t seen that much ham since the tragic bombing of Farmer Dan’s Piggery in ’92.

Clash of the Titans isn’t all bad. The scene with the three witches (with one eye between them) is good as is some of the action. But most of the scenes are just too heavily laden with underwhelming computer nonsense to be effective. I’m all for computer effects, but I hate it when films rely on them rather than just filling in the “impossible otherwise” scenes with technical wizardry. The Kraken scene for instance, is poorly realised and relies on the big money shots (my blog hits just jumped significantly after using that phrase) of the monster smashing up Argos -the ancient city, that is, not the most depressing place on Earth.

The one scene that really narked me off was the Medusa sequence, where all the tension and suspense in the book was replaced by a CGI half snake woman slithering around with epic action music farting out. It genuinely disappointed me. Clash of the Titans was infamously retrofitted to be in 3D for its cinema release. It shows too. Whilst the best examples of 3D can hardly be considered to be good, Gash of the Titans was clearly changed to cash in on the Avatar craze, with the gimmick adding nothing to anything.

“Decide your penance- death or sacrifice.”

The film is pretty poor. The writing is downright bad, the acting shite and the action sequences vary from okay to rubbish. I expect more from my action films, thank you.

Iron Man 2

Ah, Summer blockbusters, I’ve missed your ridiculous budgets and ginormagantuan explosions. Welcome back, you dumb, loveable bastards.

Iron Man 2 (2010)

 


Iron Man 2 was probably one of my most anticipated films of the year. After 2008’s fantastic first instalment, I was pumped for the sequel. After all, superhero sequels don’t have to deal with the obligatory origin story, so are usually freer in terms of narrative and characters than the originals.

“I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one.”

After his admission that he is Iron Man, billionaire Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is enjoying the global celebrity the popularity of his high-tech suit has allowed. However, angry Russian bruiser Ivan Venko (Mickey Rourke) is out to take revenge on Stark under the guise of supervillain Whiplash and with the aid of crackling, fuckingmegahuge-voltage electric whips . In addition to all this, Stark’s business rival, Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) is trying to sabotage him at every turn. The story is great, with some fantastic dialogue and action beats throughout. I did feel that the inclusion of fan-favourite character War Machine was a little unnecessary, but passable on the fact that he’s a metal-plated arse kicking machine. Downey Jr. was on form as Tony Stark, although I did get the feeling that he may have upped the “wackiness factor” on the character, which spoiled the well-balanced personality set up in the original film. Mickey Rourke was good as Ivan Vanko, giving us a villain who’s not entirely two-dimensional, sadly still a rarity in superhero films.

With an A-List cast and huge production budget, it’s no wonder that Iron Man 2 feels a little bloated at times. Not enough time is spent with Vanko to make him a tangible threat and the film focuses instead on whiny Stark-wannabe Justin Hammer (Rockwell gives a great turn as the Stark rival and makes Hammer into a character you just want to reach through the screen and throttle). Whilst he is well played, he’s clearly less interesting than the crazy Russian. War Machine isn’t really given the attention the character deserves either, but this isn’t a Venom/Spider-Man 3 type disaster. If you don’t get that reference, congratulations- you have a life.

The action and set-pieces are brilliant. It’s hard not to smile at Iron Man’s intro as he rockets onto a stage of scantily-clad dancers to the gently lilting strains of AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill. Well, unless you’re some kind of feminist who likes intelligent films or something. The standout sequence for me was Vanko’s appearance at the Monaco Grand Prix, cleaving Formula 1 cars into fine slices with his whips. It is here that Tony- suitless and scared, properly faces his enemy. It’s a fantastic, down-and-dirty fight. It’s a shame that the other action sequences fail to match up to it, with a lacklustre final showdown to round things off. In fact, Iron Man 2 repeats the mistake of its predecessor by ending in an uninspired thump-fest between hunks of metal. Still, as unoriginal as it is, it’s still entertaining and doesn’t sour things too much.

“If you could make God bleed, people will cease to believe in Him.”

 

Overall, Iron Man 2 is a worthy sequel, but only just. There is plenty to enjoy here (the sight of Scarlett Johansson in a catsuit is arguably worth several times the admission price alone) but it just doesn’t quite live up to the promises 2008’s Iron Man made.