The Viewing Of The Week - 2 February - 8 February

As the few of you who read this blog, my input has sort of petered off, only taking in films I've seen at the cinema. I aim to change this now, by offering short reviews of all the films I see each week at the end of every week. That way, I can actually motivate myself to do it, instead of committing a whole load of time to doing something I don't really want to do at the time, and you'll still get my opinions on the films I've seen. There'll still be the occasional big review if I feel my views need to be put across, but this format works better for me.

Anyways, here's last week's viewing.

The Right Stuff (1983, Kaufman) - 4.5/5

A funny, scintillating, human film about Chuck Yeager and the space race. Kaufman takes two different subjects - Yeager was briefly considered for the seven astronauts to go into space - and weaves them together so well that it feels like it's one story being told, rather than two different, parallel ones. The acting is superb, the cinematography is stunning, the score is rousing and chest-beating in its excellence, and the film's a triumphant, brilliant testament to the human spirit. A brilliant film, no two ways about it.

Elizabethtown (2005, Crowe) - 2/5

I really shouldn't be surprised, but Elizabethtown is quite a safe film. In fact, it's so cheery and full of life-affirming messages about love and family that it's aggressively sweet; indeed, it's violently harmless. It batters you with tame dialogue, it clobbers your head with middle-of-the-road performances, it throttles you with the riding crop of safe narrative. It should be decent, but it really really isn't because it demands that you like it, it puts a gun to your head and threatens to pull the trigger unless you find it heartwarming. The best part of the film is, oddly, the bleakest part at the start - Baldwin hams it up in an oddly-restrained way as Orlando Bloom's boss, and Bloom's suicide exercycle made me laugh.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008, Del Toro) - 4/5

The version I watched didn't have the greatest quality sound or picture, but regardless I could still appreciate just how amazing Del Toro's work was this time around compared to the rather muted first Hellboy film. It looks astonishingly good, Del Toro drawing on Pan's Labyrinth (a bit too much, in some scenes - the tooth fairies come to mind), Dark Crystal (Princess 'Gelfling' Nuada), the original comics and his own original ideas to paint a visceral and jawdropping piece of visual art. However, the performances are a bit inconsistent (the girl playing Nuada not only looked like a gelfling, she had the permanently-stunned facial expression of one as well, and Doug Jones really shouldn't have replaced David Hyde Pierce as Abe's voice), though Perlman, Tambor, McFarlane and Goss are all excellent, and the story is a tad weak. Nevertheless, I've seen fewer films more balls-out awesome than this so far this year.

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955, Sturges) - 4.5/5

Short, but infinitely engrossing, Bad Day at Black Rock is a film that takes the simplest of concepts - a man arrives in a backwater town to find another man, only to meet hostility from the town's residents - and makes it an enthralling tale that leaves you hooked to your seat and guessing up until the final minutes. It's entertainment at its purest, with fantastic performances - Spencer Tracey as the crippled war vet stepping into a suspicious town is magnificent - great writing, and oodles of tension. Add on to that the surprisingly confrontational central theme of the idiocy and danger of discrimination, especially in the name of patriotism, and you have a brilliant film indeed.

Death At A Funeral (2007, Oz) - 4.5/5

I was blown away by how laugh-out-loud funny this film was. Frank Oz wisely lets the script and the actors do all the work, Dean Craig's laugh-a-minute script being absolutely amazing with the way it deftly handles the various characters, running gags and subplots without ever losing sight of the main narrative, everything culminating in a heartwarming finale. Likewise, the actors are stunning - Matthew MacFadyen and Rupert Graves are excellent as the two couldn't-be-more-different brothers, and Ewen Bremner, Andy Nyman, Kris Marshall, Daisy Donovan, Jane Asher and Peter Vaughan all provide excellent support. The accolades, however, go to Alan Tudyk, who is given the showiest role in the film and takes it by the horns, and Peter Dinklage, a seriously underrated actor who proves once again, with his slightly unnerving turn, that he deserves more attention than he gets.

Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003, Tarantino) - 3.5/5

After watching Kill Bill Vol. 1, I've come to liken Quentin Tarantino to a concert pianist fresh on the international scene - when he hits the right notes, he creates something akin to a beautiful symphony of violence and lyrical dialogue. Scenes like the epic fight with the Crazy-88s and the opening showdown at the Bell household are electric and exceptionally filmed, and those scenes with Sonny Chiba are just fantastic. However, when Tarantino's fingers slip on the keyboard, it's horribly noticeable, from the naff editing of the music into the film to the inability to nail down a style to the niggling fact that one fight takes up nearly half the film to those goddamned sirens. He shouldn't be making these mistakes - he's been practising for years, he knows the keyboard like the back of his hand - but the pressure to deliver's just too much.

Crank (2006, Neveldine & Taylor) - 3.5/5

This is "WTF" personified. Playing like a mix between a particularly demented video game (a Wario Ware for the adult market, if you will), a hyperactive music video, and a balls-out action flick all rolled into one, the utter madness of this film is probably the thing its most got going for it, as it just keeps on going and going and never relents. The sheer adrenaline rush this film provides is nearly enough to ignore the fact that Amy Smart's role is horribly written and equally horribly acted, that the bad guy is a petulant child who never seems threatening, that the style's all over the show, and that the opening is badly handled. It's just too much fun to hate.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004, Gondry) - 5/5

I'm still trying to figure out exactly what to make of this, as I was slightly baffled by its excellence. Charlie Kaufman's script manages to make up for all the humanity and warmth Being John Malkovich and Adaptation lacked, doing away with the misanthropy of those films yet still maintaining the wit and the originality that made them so great. The conceit is outstanding, and the way Gondry brings them to the screen is just amazing, his visual style suiting the script to a t (the scene in which Joel and Clem are in the Barnes & Noble and all the books start turning white is stunning in its simplicity). The performances are exceptional, with Carrey giving the best performance of his career and Winslet equally fantastic, and the supporting performances all brilliant as well (special notice to Elijah Wood, who is exceptional in his small role as the endearingly creepy Patrick, and Kirsten Dunst, who shows she can actually act). Most importantly, though, it's highly charged emotionally and really gets to you, telling a story about how to love and lose is not to waste time, and it's a beautiful, poignant theme that makes the film that much better than it could have been with Kaufman's general coldness.

Thunderball (1965, Young) - 3.5/5

It starts off promising enough, with Blofeld at his most threatening and the whole segment at the clinic exciting and intriguing, and the film is very good in general, with some good action setpieces, some neat little twists (dude, pool of man-eating sharks), and some good performances, but somebody should really tell Terrence Young he really can't pull off underwater scenes that well. And given they make up a large bulk of the film, it's quite disappointing that they're lacklustre at best.

Cloverfield (2008, Reeves) (Second viewing) - 4.5/5

It loses a bit of its impact the second time around, as it's not hard to remember where the scares come, and it isn't as effective on a 24 inch TV screen as it was on the cinema screen, and Hud remains a whiny clingy douche who nearly redeems himself with some excellent dialogue (the "flaming homeless person" monologue and his retraction of his idea to save Beth when they reach her apartment building are great pieces of writing), but Cloverfield's still a stunning, thrilling piece of entertainment, original in its conceit and gripping in its execution.

Control Room (2004, Noujaim) - 4/5

I hope one day everyone will get a US passport, and then this world can be quiet.

That line pretty much sums up this documentary on the early days of the War on Iraq as told through Al Jazeera. Addressing such issues as objective journalism in war situations, how militaries control the media in wars, the subjective nature of the truth, and the human cost of a political war, director Noujaim doesn't let personal sympathies get in the way of how he presents the film. Al Jazeera do come out in a better light because they tend to be more objective, but his representation of the journalistic profession in general - one contrasts the Al Jazeera reporters, who get out on the street and broadcast any images they get from the war, be they American casualties or Iraqi casualities (something that serves as the centre of an American military media liason officer's touching comment on how war affects people, in possibly one of the best parts of the film), with the American correspondents, particularly Tom Mintier of CNN, who become increasingly frustrated with the information the American military is choosing to provide them, and aren't afraid to make it known. Less of a documentary about Al Jazeera, and more a documentary about the journalistic profession, Control Room is engaging, interesting, and eye-opening, and it makes you question exactly what we would have known sooner if the journalists had been allowed to show what they wanted to show, rather than what the military would provide them to show. However, most importantly, it makes you realise just what bastards Bush & co were, and it also makes you realise just how peaceful the world would be if everybody had an American passport, because then there'd be nobody for America to force themselves onto.

Lake Placid (1999, Miner) (Third viewing) - 4/5

It just gets better with every watch, seriously. It's fun, it's got great performances (Oliver Platt and Brendan Gleeson are priceless, and I never realised just how decent Bridget Fonda was until the third watch), the writing really comes into its own with repeat watches, and the whole tongue-in-cheek nature of the whole film just makes this so enjoyable. A magnificent guilty pleasure.

The Speaker (2006, Kahi) - 3.5/5

New Zealand short film about a tagger whose actions get his brother roughed up by the police, and so he becomes determined to get revenge. A refreshingly non-violent take on the old retribution chestnut, Kahi is a good, stylish director whose camerawork is fantastic in emphasising the bleak and harsh landscape of South Auckland. The only let down is the forced, overly-'authentic' 'street' dialogue, in which every second word is 'bro', and the couple of scenes in which talking occur really lack the flow of the rest of the film.

Blue Thunder (1983, Badham) - 2.5/5

A movie starring Roy Scheider and Malcolm MacDowell about duelling helicopters should be awesome, right? Well, Blue Thunder tries desperately to assert otherwise, squandering a funny and engaging opening for a convoluted plot I lost interest in about thirty minutes through, one-note acting from Scheider and a generally tepid execution. The final helicopter battle between Roy and Malcolm is cool, but otherwise, this film is boring.

Laura (1944, Preminger) - 5/5

As someone with an affinity for film noir, it actually surprised me how much I loved this film. The writing is absolutely stunning, unimaginably witty, brilliantly slick and almost lyrical; the lighting and cinematography take the cake in terms of the classic noirs I've seen, with scenes such as the scene at the end in Laura's apartment and the scene with Mark and Shelby at Laura's country house looking absolutely impeccable; the performances are outstanding, Dana Andrews, Gene Tierney, Clifton Webb and Vincent Price all inhabiting their roles fully and astounding with the believability and cleverness of their performances; and the narrative is brilliant, leaving open all this threads and never examining them fully on first glance, leaving the plot open for all sorts of brilliant twists and turns. There's just so much to like about this film, and it's definitely one of my favourites now.

Corpse Bride (2005, Burton & Johnson) - 2.5/5

Well, this was disappointing. It looks good, Danny Elfman's score is great, and it does have its moments (Bonejangles' song is epic, and the occasional joke strikes a note), but the animation moves too slowly and removes all sense of urgency from any tense scenes, the songs are actually rather bad (bar Bonejangles'), the story is initially interesting but plods along slowly and predictably, and the voice actors (bar Richard E. Grant, Christopher Lee, Joanna Lumley and Danny Elfman) make absolutely no effort, and the characters end up sounding all whispery and unemotional. It's dull, it's unfunny, it's unexciting, and, most importantly, it's horribly disappointing.

Six Shooter (2004, McDonagh) - 4.5/5

Basically a more depressing - and, as a result, darkly hilarious - and human version of In Bruges, that doesn't stop McDonagh's Oscar winning short from being brilliant. Brendan Gleeson is outstanding as the quiet, grieving widower Donnelly, and Ruadhri Conroy is great as Ray from In Bruges turned up to eleven, a foul-mouthed, uncouth, possibly psychotic kid on the same train as Donnelly. McDonagh's on fire with his excellent, brilliantly dark script, and the ending is just pure brilliance, even better than In Bruges'. Everyone should see this. It's excellent.

Valgaften (Election Night) (1998, Thomas Jensen) - 4/5

Dogme darling Anders Thomas Jensen spins here a story about Peter (the always excellent Ulrich Thomsen, on top form here), a charity worker who remembers in the middle of a rant against racism (his friend wouldn't try Mexican beer) that he forgot to vote...and the polls close in twenty minutes. What follows is a hilarious eight minutes of Peter cab-hopping to the polling booth, finding each cabbie to be more racist than the last. Thomas Jensen starts off making a film that's a hilarious indictment of misplaced nationalism and the racism that results, but by the end, it becomes an equally hilarious, if slightly shaky, indictment of self-righteousness, pointing out that we all have the capacity for intolerance. It's like a short film version of the Avenue Q song, 'Everyone's A Little Bit Racist'.

Jabberwocky (1971, Svankmajer) - 4/5

A truly ****ed up piece of genius from Czech stop-motion wunderkind Jan Svankmajer. I'm not entirely sure what his aim was - if he was aiming to capture the utter what-the-****ness of the original Jabberwocky story, he got it in spades, and it's all the more brilliant for it; if he was, as he says he was, aiming to represent the development of child (from, quote, "homosexuality to sado-masochism to rebellion against the father" - sounds like someone had an odd childhood), he does that too, if not as well or as coherently as he achieves the former. It's still a stunning piece of animation to watch, regardless, magnificent in its oddness.

Doodlebug (1997, Nolan) - 3/5

Shit camera and utterly unconvincing lead actor aside, Christopher Nolan's student short is rather ambitious and a bit of a mindfuck, and the score is pretty damn good. It's worth a watch, if only to see where the man who made Memento came from.

Fierrot le pou (1990, Kassovitz) - 3/5

A slight, funny little short about a nerdy, inept white basketballer (played wonderfully by Matthieu Kassovitz, also the director and writer) who tries to impress a skilled, black, female basketballer who practices at the same time as him. It's got a nice little story, but it loses impact by the way in which Kassovitz represents the nerd finally impressing the girl - he basically imagines that he is black and he gets a slamdunk. Now, I don't know whether this is a comment on race relations in France or not, but it does seem a little dubious, and that ambiguity in message doesn't help the film.

Projection Booth - Slumdog Millionaire

Directed by: Danny Boyle and Loveleen Tandan (co-director: India)
Written by: Simon Beaufoy, based on the novel Q & A by Vikas Swarup
Starring: Dev Patel, Freida Pinto, Madhur Mittal, Anil Kapoor
Running Time: 120 minutes.

If there's one film that's come out of nowhere and surprised everyone this Oscar season, it's Slumdog Millionaire. Against big-name dramas like Revolutionary Road, Frost/Nixon, Milk, The Reader and more, Slumdog inadvertently became the little indie that could after people decided to sell it as a contender for Oscar glory. On paper, it's hard to see why - it's an underdog story and a romance that borrows heavily from City of God in terms of its aesthetic, it stars total unknowns outside of (and, in a few cases, inside of) India, and it's directed by a man best known for 28 Days Later and Trainspotting. However, in execution, Slumdog transcends all the obstacles in its path, and dazzles with its writing, its directing, its acting, and, most importantly, its heart.

Slumdog's tale of Jamal (Dev Patel), a chaiwalla (coffee bitch) who manages to get where doctors, lawyers and scholars haven't on the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire - the final question - is certainly an unassuming one, but the film's narrative never lets on that this is the case. Interweaving the present day, as Jamal is interrogating by police who assume he is cheating, with Jamal's checkered and harrowing past, Simon Beaufoy's screenplay and Danny Boyle's direction never stray into hopelessness, nor do they play down just how ugly the Mumbai slums can be. This is best exemplified in the different paths Jamal and his older brother, Salim, take - a time-worn narrative device, yes, but its use here doesn't render the film any less effective, especially because of the circumstances in which the brothers' paths diverge. Everything feels, at least, tangible, and at the best of times, highly realistic - the Mumbai Riots scene is a harrowing and gripping piece of confrontational cinema, for example - and Danny Boyle and his co-director, Loveleen Tandan, must be praised for their ability to not try and glamourise what is essentially an ugly part of India (that, if the numerous protestors in India are to be believed, they do know want you to know about). Of course, much like City of God, the direction is both realistic and stylish, and though Boyle has an often-overwhelming love for canted angles, the film otherwise looks and sounds stunning, the cinematography borrowing tricks from the Meirelles school of direction and enhancing them with Boyle's and Tandan's own styles and A.R. Rahman's score possibly the best and most evocative score of the past year.

However, at it's heart, Slumdog Millionaire is an underdog story and a love story, not a political statement on the slums of Mumbai, and thus the similarities with Meirelles' City of God, a film Slumdog's been compared with, understandably but unfairly, in the narrative department, end. Unlike City of God's oftentimes brutal tale of violence in the streets of Rio de Janeiro and the almost-inescapable nature of the slums, Slumdog plants a fairy-tale of sorts in the slums of Mumbai, using them to make the underdog story all the more triumphant and fantastic. Both Beaufoy's script and the fantastic performances from the unknown-outside-India cast make the film the largely life-affirming and bittersweet experience it is, rather than a romance trying to rip off City of God. In the leads, Dev Patel and Freida Pinto are well cast and extremely likeable and relatable, and the actors portraying Jamal and Lakita in their childhood are equally fantastic, and all should go on to great careers in the future. The supporting cast is able and mostly excellent, with the highlights being Anil Kapoor as the delightfully over-the-top host of WWTBAM and Irrfan Khan as the exasperated police inspector interrogating Jamal. They all do fantastic work with Beaufoy's heartfelt and subtle script, and by the end of the film, it's hard not to feel elated and happy (even if it is a little bit of a bittersweet ending).

Slumdog Millionaire's not fantastically deep or highly politically- or ideologically-charged; that's not what it's trying to be. At it's heart, it's a much simpler tale that just so happens to be set in a hostile area of India, and in that sense, Slumdog is an irrefutable success. With fantastic performances, a sublime score, exceptional direction, a great script and heart to spare, Slumdog Millionaire is an emotional, uplifting, scintillating film.

Verdict: Don't go in expecting City of God (it's not that amazing), and be impressed by just how fantastic and heartwarming this underdog romance is.

4.5/5

Projection Booth - Revolutionary Road

Directed by: Sam Mendes
Written by: Justin Haythe, based on the novel of the same name written by Robert Yates
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Michael Shannon, David Harbour, Kathy Bates, Dylan Baker

Running Time: 119 minutes.

A lot of reviewers have recently taken to comparing Sam Mendes' domestic meltdown film, Revolutionary Road, to his Oscar-winning debut film, American Beauty, and to the last film to star Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet (and co-star Kathy Bates) together, the smash hit Titanic. Let's get this straight right from the get-go - this is no American Beauty, and this is no Titanic. This has nowhere near the level of sardonic humour present in American Beauty, nor does it have that film's life-affirming (to a degree) storyline. Likewise, this doesn't have the full-on passionate romance of two Jack and Rose figures that Titanic has, nor does it have gargantuan special effects, a painfully simple narrative, or Kate Winslet naked. This is not life-affirming, this is not romantic, this is not grandiose. This is American Beauty made by chronic depressives, if you will - a gut-wrenching emotional rollercoaster through the toxic marriage of Frank and April Wheeler (DiCaprio and Winslet), a young couple who want nothing more than to get out of the suburbs of New York and can't stand the idea of actually changing.

Justin Haythe's and Sam Mendes' adaptation of Richard Yates' classic novel of dystopic suburbia not only perfectly captures the dark side of those happy little housing districts on the outskirts of every large town, but also ensures that the role of the supposed protagonists in the "hopeless emptiness" is clear and not presented with rose-tinted glasses. Frank wants to "feel", but doesn't know what it is he wants to "feel"; April wants to act, but her "studies" have gotten her nowhere and she's apparently not very good, as we're told at the start by an older couple at the end of a disastrous amateur performance April is involved in - yet both hold the other and their surroundings responsible for the unhappy predicament they perceive themselves to be in. Like everyone other young couple before them, they're falling prey to unfulfilled dreams and a sense that the other party is responsible for their own failures. April's and Frank's relationship has gotten to the point where they become serious about fleeing to Paris to start a new life out of some notion that their lives will be improved drastically by getting out of the suburbs, and the closer they get to the realisation of their dream of Paris, the happier they become - as happy as they were when they first decided to move into the white house on Revolutionary Road, as Mendes and Haythe suggest in appropriately-timed flashbacks. There's a sense that April and Frank have become willingly trapped in a cycle of happiness and depression, and sure enough, the film subscribes to that notion, as the final third of the film is in no way a love story (then again, neither are the first two thirds, but then, the middle section of the film does come with an added dollop of hope). However, they'll be damned if they let anyone else in on their carefully-concealed emotions, as the film presents a secondary theme of the difference between our public selves and our private selves - not a new or amazing theme, sure, but Rev Road handles it better than most other domestic dramas of our time, mainly due to the acting.

And what acting it is. Leonardo DiCaprio probably delivers the best performance of his career thus far as Frank Wheeler, a man who despises his job, despises his home, despises his life, and has no idea what could stop him despising those things. Every second he's on the screen is a second more that we are exposed to a masterclass in conveying emotion through performance - DiCaprio paints a picture of Frank as a man backed into a corner through his own bad decisions, and refuses to admit that he is the reason for his life's stagant nature. Opposite him, Kate Winslet does falter at points, her performance occasionally straying into first-rehearsal-wobbles territory. However, when she's not falling prey to that territory, she is sensational, and the volatile chemistry and tension between her and DiCaprio is exceptional - the scene near the end in which they have breakfast together, the morning after a catastrophic fight, is one of the best scenes of the last year just because of the way those two act in it. However, the most sensational performance in the film, and easily the best supporting actor performance of the last year (yes, even better than Ledger), is Michael Shannon as John Givings, the son of cheery realtor Helen (Bates) and her deaf husband Howard who just so happens to be "not well". Shannon doesn't portray John as insane so much as presented as "not well" for appearance's sake. He has problems, sure, but he's the only one in the film who's willing to truly say what he thinks, and Shannon is exceptional in his few scenes, an unnervingly observant bundle of nerves who refuses to let things go unsaid. He's a destructive force, but Shannon doesn't play it over-the-top or bland - he's restrained, yet not too restrained, in his performance, and it works all the better because it suggests John's not actually the nutjob his mother would have you believe, and is the only person sane enough, ironically, to realise how these people have willingly trapped themselves in their own unhappiness.

Mendes continues his streak of excellent films with Revolutionary Road. Atmospheric cinematography that's never showy and a dark score that echoes American Beauty's sadder moments only enhance the emotional rollercoaster that this film is, and with fantastic source material and brilliant performances, Mendes supplies one of the most riveting and devastating domestic dramas of recent times.

Verdict: Subtle, brutal, and altogether brilliant - a tour de force of drama that thrives on its exceptional performers.

4.5/5

First Watch Review - The Quiet Earth

Year of release: 1985

Directed by: Geoff Murphy
Written by: Bill Baer, Bruno Lawrence and Sam Pillsbury, based on the novel of the same name by Craig Harrison
Starring: Bruno Lawrence, Alison Routledge, Peter Smith
Length: 88 minutes.

For one of the big directors of early New Zealand cinema, Geoff Murphy hasn't gone on to much. The man who helped make the industry what it is today with such commercial and critical hits as Goodbye Pork Pie and Utu, as well as this film, went to Hollywood and directed Young Guns II, Freejack, Under Siege 2 and Fortress 2 before quitting America and coming back to New Zealand – to be second unit director on the Lord of the Rings films. Much like Lee Tamahori and Vincent Ward, America was not kind to Geoff Murphy, and after watching The Quiet Earth, I'm not entirely sure why. After all, The Quiet Earth presents a director at the top of his game and just begging for meatier, higher-budget fare to direct, as Murphy's direction in this tale of a man who believes himself to be the last person left on Earth is excellent, as is most of the film.

Bruno Lawrence (Smash Palace) plays Zac Hobson, a scientist working for a corporation doing experiments on the atmosphere (or something like that) at the behest of the US government. Then, one morning, he wakes up, and there's nothing on the radio. The phone operators aren't there. There's no-one at the petrol station when he goes to pay. Queen Street in Auckland is empty. Zac Hobson is the only person left on Earth, or so he surmises. Thus, the first act of the film is Zac trying to get to grips with this sudden shift in the population dynamic of the Earth, and trying terribly. Zac's an everyman in a general sense of the word – he may be a scientist, but he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else, and he reacts to this situation in the way that I imagine a normal person would (I wouldn't know, I've not conducted studies on this). The desperate measures he takes to attain some kind of human contact, the decisions to exploit the now-abandoned possessions of those who were once on Earth, the madness he eventually turns to with no human contact – the first act depicts a man on a slippery slope to self-destruction. However, after the darkly humourous "I have been condemned to live” scene, which involves Zac in a dress talking to cardboard cut-outs of world leaders from the balcony of an opulent house (a scene which also breeds the hilarious line, said to a cardboard cutboard of Hitler, "Look, I haven't got the time to talk to you, I'm a very busy man! Besides, you've had your turn.”), the film takes a shift into slightly more optimistic territory, as Zac comes across Joanne, another survivor.

The second act takes the palpable sense of hopelessness and desperation the first act creates, and shifts it around a little. With the introduction of a second character, everything seems a bit brighter, Joanne and Zac travelling the North Island, looking for more survivors and, in Zac's case, trying to find out what has caused what he has dubbed 'The Effect'. By the time the third act rolls around, the scientific babble may seem a little bit contrived and a dubious way to explain 'The Effect', but the ultimatum posed at the end of the second act adds a sense of urgency and fear to the film that Murphy capitalises on, building on it as tension rises between Zac, Joanne and another survivor, Api, and the three try to meet the ultimatum.

Murphy's direction is excellent, the main driving force of the film. The opening scenes as Zac drives into Auckland, wondering what the hell is going on, succeed admirably in their intent, showing that something very very bad has happened. As the film progresses, Murphy brings out the atmosphere of every scene well, particularly in those scenes in which Zac finds himself slowly going stir crazy. The aforementioned "I have been condemned to live” scene and the scene in which Zac plays snooker with himself are both excellent examples of Murphy's excellent direction, the latter in particular gulling the viewer for a moment into believing that Zac is actually talking to someone else, mainly because of the cunning editing. All the elements of the film come together to create a brilliant, inspired science fiction thriller of sorts, and much of this is testament to Murphy.

Of course, it's not all Murphy's doing, the quality of the film. Bruno Lawrence is on top form as our lonely protagonist Zac, and while he, like the other two actors in this film, is prone to slipping in conviction every so often, he succeeds in portraying a man confronted with an unfathomable happening. In support, Alison Routledge and Peter Smith are good quality as the pseudo-philosophical Joanne and the stoic, enigmatic Api. They are perfect foils to Lawrence's Zac, and bring their own special qualities to the film as well – it's hard to miss the slow rise in tension that begins when Api arrives on the scene, brandishing an Uzi and threatening Zac. Also of note is the writing. Baer, Lawrence and Pillsbury have written a well-paced and interesting script that never feels flamboyant or over-the-top at the expense of the humanity and thoughtfulness of the conceit. The scientific stuff may sound a little silly and may seem like a bit of a cop-out (it would probably work better if it were, as Zac suggests after discovering what he thinks is the reason for 'The Effect', like the Creation, inexplicable and enigmatic), but everything else works well. Special note must also go to the final couple of scenes – a more thought-provoking and ambiguous ending you're not likely to see in New Zealand film, let alone any film, and it works perfectly within the film. Sure, the film's a little rough – it was still early days in New Zealand cinema when this was made – by Murphy's sci-fi film is a little gem that deserves to be rediscovered by the world.

Verdict: A thought-provoking, atmospheric science-fiction film that shows that little productions can often do sci-fi better than the big guns. Murphy's direction is exceptional.

4/5

Projection Booth - Doubt

Year of release: 2008

Directed by: John Patrick Shanley
Written by: John Patrick Shanley, based on his play of the same name
Starring: Meryl Streep, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Viola Davis
Length: 110 minutes.

I may be a bit biased in my treatment of this film, as it is adapted from what is unequivocally my favourite play of all time, read or seen. When I first saw Doubt: A Parable performed at my local professional theatre, national and local heavyweights of the stage filling the four roles of the play, I was stunned by its magnificent dialogue, its confrontational and clever narrative, and the way it asked the viewer to draw their own conclusions rather than forcing down one's throat a screed against intolerance and gossip or paedophilia, depending on how it could've gone. It also helped that the acting was top notch and the set design, for a small production was brilliant. When I re-read the play on a train ride the year after, I was drawn back into the tale and loved it almost as much as I did when I saw it performed. So you can imagine how excited I was when the movie was announced - with John Patrick Shanley writing and directing! With Meryl Streep! Phillip Seymour Hoffman! Amy Adams! A score by Howard Shore! How amazing this film sounded to me, my all-time favourite play being given the cinematic treatment.

Luckily for Patrick Shanley, it lived up - mostly - to the impossibly high expectations I had for it.

The play follows Sister Aloysius, the harsh, almost-tyrannical headmistress of a Catholic school. Ideologically, she's the polar opposite of Father Flynn, the progressive, friendly priest of the connected parish. After Aloysius puts out a message to the nuns to be on the lookout for suspicious behaviour, the innocent and compassionate Sister James comes to her, telling her that the school's only African-American student, Donald Miller, had been called to the rectory - and had returned to class acting oddly and with alcohol on his breath. Aloysius jumps to the conclusion that Flynn is molesting Donald (though this word is never explicitly said, and the same for paedophilia and its variants), and goes to task trying to destroy Flynn because of her 'certainty'. Luckily, Patrick Shanley has not sacrificed any of the ambiguity or intelligence of the play for the big screen - he's merely added bits and pieces here and there, and expanded the settings (a conversation between Aloysius and Donald's mother, which originally took place in Aloysius' office, now takes place on the street), giving the film a darker, less confined feel, almost suggesting that Aloysius' concerns go beyond the parish and school (indeed, her ugly interpretation of the "pagan" song 'Frosty The Snowman' indicates her dislike of general society). The film maintains the general structure of the play, the majority of the dialogue, and all of the ambiguity and thoughtfulness, meaning the impact the play had is only lessened somewhat by the fact that it's not playing out on a stage.

Patrick Shanley's a very capable director, the muted colours and favouring of canted angles giving the school a vaguely hostile, nightmarish feel, particularly whenever Aloysius is around. His work may occasionally be a little pedestrian, but that majority of the film is impressive to look at. Howard Shore's score is also excellent, a clever mix of a typically atmospheric orchestral score and of organ-and-choir church music. Patrick Shanley sets the scene perfectly, creating an ominous atmosphere that's at odds with the supposedly safe and upright reputation of Catholic parishes. The acting, too, is excellent for the most part. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is perfectly-cast as Father Flynn, a genial figure who wants to see the church as more of a family member than something to fear and treat with a cold detachment. Hoffman makes Flynn someone who you don't want to believe molests children, but his cagey attitude towards certain questions can't help but make you reluctantly suspicious of him. Amy Adams is equally excellent as the inexperienced but well-intentioned Sister James, conveying her character's increasing guilt and inability to work out what she's meant to think with the skill of a seasoned professional. Special mention must go to Viola Davis, too, who steals her one scene as Donald's mother, a woman concerned about her son's ability to get out of the horrible conditions he's in, and willing to turn a blind eye to a few things as a result.

However, there is one problem with this film, and that problem is Meryl Streep. The usually-reliable actress is on good form - the only problem is the role she's playing well isn't that of Aloysius, who she's meant to be playing. One reviewer (I think it was either Manohla Dargis or A.O. Scott at the New York Times) described as being something straight out of a gothic horror novel, and I mostly agree with this. Instead of interpreting Aloysius as a highly, stubbornly conservative woman who genuinely believes she's right and convinces herself of what she think's Flynn's done because he's the ideological opposite to her, Streep heads down an all-too-easy route of playing Aloysius as a cold-hearted, evil bitch, who treats everyone and everything with disgust and contempt. She's a force of nature in this film, not a person, and she only seems to show any emotions other than indignant hatred twice in the film, both near the end - she pulls it off the first time, but during the all important final line, she doesn't, mistaking intense doubt for an excuse to turn on the waterworks. It's disappointing that Streep refuses to endow the character with the complexity that it deserves, because Aloysius isn't a nigh-on heartless monster, she's just incredibly set in her ways and allows her ways to convince her of terrible things, as Sister James proclaims at one point, and Streep's selection of the former means it's harder to take her side and feel genuine doubt in regards to what she's accusing Flynn of doing. Streep lets down the side, making what could have been a nigh-on perfect film only great. Her performance is good, and entertaining, but it's just not Aloysius.

Verdict: The script is nothing short of brilliant, the direction is excellent, the score is great and Hoffman, Adams and Davis are all Oscar-worthy, with Streep's entertaining but disappointingly shallow performance the only downside.

4.5/5

Warner Bros v Fox No Longer: Settlement Means Watchmen Is Still On For March

Win.

First Watch Review - The Incredible Hulk

Year of release: 2008

Directed by: Louis Leterrier
Written by: Zak Penn
Starring: Edward Norton, Liv Tyler, Tim Roth, William Hurt, Tim Blake Nelson, Ty Burrell, Christina Cabot
Length: 112 minutes.

Marvel, that generally-respected company that holds a significant percentage of the world's comic book properties in its iron grip, has recently been undergoing a bit of a renaissance in terms of their approach to films based on their properties; or, at least, that's what they'd like you to think. Iron Man, the first film out the gates of the new-and-improved Marvel Studios, was a fun ride with a slightly underwhelming third act, but it drove home this notion of a renaissance well. However, The Incredible Hulk puts this whole renaissance thingymajig at serious risk, as it is badly-written, weakly-executed and, generally, underwhelming.

Of course, Marvel's released an incarnation of the Big Green Smashing Machine once previously, and in this decade too - the Ang Lee-directed Hulk, in 2003. Many would have you believe that this film is leagues better than Lee's admittedly messy film, which played fast and loose with canon and had a baffling final act. Of course, the majority of the people that make up this 'many' would have you believe Hulk is simply there to punch shit and there is no place for character development, relationships and thoughtful approaches to the concept of a man with an unstoppable creature of personified rage inside him, able to be triggered at a moment's notice without the host's control.

These people, ladies and gentlemen, are idiots.

The problem with The Incredible Hulk, however, is not that it decided to appeal to the mouthbreathers who think there's no scope for drama and emotion in a Hulk film (conveniently dismissing decades of comic books that would not exist if it was just the Hulk smashing shit). Rather, the problem is that, in attempting to strike a balance between big fuck-off action scenes involving that green monstrosity and thoughtful character development, relationships, and approaches to the concept etc. etc., writer Penn and director Leterrier have made a film that wants to be smart, but is very, very stupid. For sure, the majority of the fight scenes are good - the campus showdown is epic in scale and quite fun, and the footchase through Brazil at the start is pretty tense. Credit must also go to director Leterrier, whose innate understanding of the way action scenes work has lead to a generally visually impressive film, though not on the scale of Lee's astoundingly good-looking Hulk.

However, for every minute of well-executed action cinema, there's five minutes of tepid, dreary, horribly-written drama, complete with disappointing performances and bad blocking. Supposedly funny scenes come across as forced instead of humourous (the scene with the cab in New York and the "You won't like me when I'm...hungry" scene are excellent examples, though the latter elicits a chuckle); sad scenes come off as dry; tense scenes lack urgency and electricity. The problem is, essentially, the dialogue - it's needlessly verbose, reverts to exposition far too often, and is painfully cliched (every second line that comes out of Tim Roth's mouth is a tired action one-liner that just sounds worn). It's not that the majority of the performers aren't trying - Roth does well given his underwritten character, Norton's decent in the lead, and Tim Blake Nelson is fun as the hyperactive Dr. Sterns - though some of them aren't (Liv Tyler is just horrible), it's that the material they're working with is just so hackneyed, uninspired and dull.

There's problems with the action scenes too, a place where it should excel. The main problem is the CGI. The Hulk looks like he's made out of flexible plastic, and Abomination reminds me unfavourably of The Scorpion King in The Mummy Returns. In one scene, when Abomination is being chased by a helicopter, both of them look as if they belong in a video game cutscene that's five years old (seriously, the CGI is only as good as the rather dated cutscene at the opening of Rainbow Six 3). What's more, while many of the fight scenes are well-choreographed, the final fight strikes a bad chord as it just feels like it's happening for the sake of happening and there's nothing really exciting about it once the Hulk arrives on the scene. I also pose the question - what's with the film refusing to show people actually die? It's implied quite a few people are killed, but bar the humvee of soldiers near the end, there's no real "this person has died" scene - they're just taken offscreen or 'injured' or left nearly dead or something.

The Incredible Hulk does a few things right, but it's just so underwhelming, especially seeing as it could have been so much more. If this is the quality of film Marvel Studios is happy with releasing, it won't take long before the goodwill from Iron Man is worn thin and people start wondering why they were even considered to be undergoing an overhaul in the first place.

Verdict: If you want a film about a big green monster smashing shit with character development and a thoughtful approach to the subject matter, look to Ang Lee's Hulk. If you just want a big green monster smashing shit, look to Ang Lee's Hulk.

2.5/5