A Single Man (Tom Ford, 2010)

Join this single man for a few hours, it’s worth it.

Tom Ford may have ventured from his established career in fashion to produce, write and direct this film based on the novel by Christopher Isherwood, but it is that stylish it deserves its own cat walk.

Colin Firth stars as the single man that the title concerns, playing English literature professor George, who in the wake of his lovers tragic death plans to kill himself at the end of a hazy summers day in 1960s LA. May sound like depressing stuff, but unlike other recent films such as Precious which approach their bleak topics with heavy handed seriousness, A Single Man is playful, moving without being overbearing and most importantly enjoyable.

Firth certainly earned his Bafta winning performance, appearing in every scene in the film. His performance is powerful, understated and convincingly embraces the sexuality of the character. He is well known for playing characters full of British charm and dry wit, and that is certainly on display here, but with a strong undercurrent of vulnerability which makes the film so affecting. Accompanying him in what may be his last day on earth is Julian Moore playing a British divorcé, who as usual is brilliant, and Nicholas Hoult, who is better known as the kid in Hugh Grant picture About a Boy.

As strong as the performances are the real star here is the director. Ford has an assured and original style that takes a simple story and turns it into a sensory experience. George’s voice over explains his ever changing emotional state, and accompanying this is the films ever changing colour style that suits his mood. For a large part of the film, there is a washed out grainy colour scheme which visually captures his despair. The excellent atmospheric score accompanies the almost greyscale cinematography. An early scene flashes back to the moment George hears about the death of his partner, a combination of fantastic acting, moving music and assured direction makes it an overwhelming scene.

It is not all doom and gloom however, and it appears George has the ability to see beauty in many things, largely the landscape and the bodies of others. To show this Ford uses extreme close ups and slow motion consistently, which is disorientating and seducing. It becomes clear we are seeing the world through the eyes of George; strengthen our emotional connection with him. The grainy tone turns to brilliant Technicolor in the moments where George feels happiness, largely though his developing friendship with student Kenny, who he appears to take more than a professional interest in.

For some the film may drag, it is simply a day in the life of a man struggling to get over a loss. We see him at work, going about his daily errands, get drunk with an old friend and ritually prepare him for suicide. A darkly comic sequence shows him working out the most comfortable position to blow his brains out. It is this effortless blend of playfulness and seriousness that results in one of the year’s best films.

Verdict
Even for those with short attention spans it is impossible to resist the films style, and not empathise with George. Ford has created a truly cinematic experience; everything that takes a good film to a great film pays off here. Direction, acting, music and story all serve to create a great sense of time and place, one that is an essential for any cinema fan to visit.
8.5/10

The Lovely Bones (Peter Jackson, 2010)

A whole lot of not so lovely CGI

Peter Jackson knows how to pick his source material. Maturing from fantastically gory zombie films to the most epic trilogy of my generation he is never one to back away from a challenge. His latest venture, an adaptation of Alice Sebold’s phenomenally popular novel The Lovely Bones was hardly going to make life easier for himself. He chose to follow up his overlong but effective King Kong, with a story involving the rape and murder of a 14 year old girl, the afterlife, the emotional breakdown of a family and a homicide investigation that stretches on for half a decade. What he has created is an ambitious, yet messy film.

For those of you who have not seen the trailer, the films catalyst is the brutal murder of teenager Susie Salmon at the hands of her neighbour George Harvey. After her death, she resides in the ‘in-between’ a purgatory like domain in which she watches how her death impacts her family.

The 12A certificate surprised a lot of people considering what the film deals with; a teen friendly film involving child murder? Interestingly the most effective moments are the darker ones, and despite the low age certificate there are some genuinely frightening and disturbing moments throughout. Without resorting to graphic acts of violence, Jackson creates a foreboding atmosphere leading up to the inevitable murder of our protagonist. As we watch Susie go about her life, building ships in bottles with her father, developing her photography hobby, and shying away from her crush on boy at her school, her narration from the after-life is a constant reminder that this will soon change.

Initially the characters are fleshed out and generally well acted, and up until her departure into the ‘in-between’ I was fully absorbed. The crux of the film, Susie’s murder is an unbearably tense sequence when she is fooled into a trap set up by neighbour/serial killer George. Stanley Tucci has received an Oscar nomination for his portrayal of the character and it was well deserved. George Harvey creates the same menace that has been rarely seen since Anthony Hopkins steeped into the shoes of Hannibal ‘the cannibal’ Lecture. His subtle change from friendly neighbour to something far more sinister is an awesome and brave display of acting. His terrifying staring and heavy breathing create more unease that I have felt in the cinema in some time. Due to its relevance to recent related news stories, the death of Susie Salmon is nothing less than devastating cinema.

It is after her untimely demise that the film takes a u-turn and loses its way. The after-life is never an easy thing to depict, every individual on this earth has their own vision of it, and Jackson’s does not work. The after-life is seldom successfully created on screen; the last ambitious and failed attempt was in ‘What Dreams May Come’ starring Robin Williams. Like that film, this depiction is far to CGI heavy. I am never a supporter of reviewing a film through comparison to the novel it is based on; they are too different mediums and therefore warrant different approaches. However, the beauty of Sebold’s novel was her imaginative vision of the after-life. Susie’s paradise is personalised to her, it is shaped by her personality. The vision of ‘the in-between’ here is a cross between an acid hallucination and a Bjork song. Giant mountainous vistas give way to sparkling rivers. Huge beach balls roll across waves. Vast corn fields morph into swamps. It’s all very stylish, but has no substance. The great human unknown, the after-life, is reduced to a CGI showcase. At one point Susie utters ‘it’s beautiful’ as she gazes across her computer generated environment. I had to disagree.

The most cringe worthy moments involves Susie running through ever changing locations while an awful song wails on. It is like an expensive, soulless music video.

Jackson also seems unsure how to blend the after-life with reality. Susie looks into various portals that allow her to see the events on earth. Various parallels are drawn as her ‘in-between’ is shaped by the events on earth. It’s an interesting concept, not only the living letting go of the dead but the dead letting go of the living, but it is never explored deeply enough. I found myself getting impatient with the scenes involving Susie and itching to get back to earth. Due to the reliance on CGI and dreamy, unfocused direction, the connection between earth and the afterlife negatively affect the story. Cross-cutting between the two locations becomes confusing, tacky and tedious.

Despite these sequences, the film is at its best grounded in reality, and when it works, it is an excellent psychological thriller. Jackson uses murderer George Harvey sparingly making him a mysterious and frightening presence. Moments of real terror are effectively staged, including a nail biting homage to Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Whilst not skimping on the horror aspects of the story, the film does tone town the emotional turmoil of the family. The events understandably tear relationships apart but these moments lack any real emotional pull. One of the Novel’s most interesting characters, Susie’s alcoholic grandmother is, disturbingly enough, reduced to comic relief. His father’s fixation with solving the case is effectively shown, but his wife, played excellently by Rachel Weiss is hardly present. She moves away from home to order to escape domestic traumas but this is skimmed over very quickly.

All is not lost though. One family member who is used well is Susie’s little Sister Lindsey. Susie watches her grow up and enjoy experiences that she will never have, such as a first kiss, and this leads to some heartbreaking moments as she watches on, realising life experience has been taken from her. This connection between life and the after-life is affecting, but on the whole, it is never clear if/how Susie is connecting with her loved ones on earth; the two locations are linked tenuously.

Verdict
The Lovely Bones is a film of two half’s. An effective, emotional and terrifying thriller is tainted by an effects heavy, soulless exploration of the afterlife. Ultimately it is Peter Jackson’s unrelenting ambition that is the films downfall. In trying to cram so much into the films running time, he ends up overusing visual effects, and under using attempts at emotional involvement. If there is a movie after life, half of this film is going to heaven, and half can burn in hell.
6.5/10

A note on ratings – I am generally adverse to reducing move reviews to quantifiable ratings such as the star system seen in Empire and the numerical system used on IMDB.com....However, as I’ll soon be taking this blog to local newspapers I will do doing it from now on as it offers a quick guide to my verdict on the film. However, the review is where the information is. How can a 8/10 horror film be compared to an 8/10 political thriller or art house film. Number ratings are flawed, and each film needs to be taken on its own merit. An effectively exploitation picture and an Oscar contender cannot be compared in terms of traditional film quality, but still may score 9/10 each if they are strong in their own fields. Anyway, I’ll give this rating thing a go.

Invictus (Clint Eastwood, 2010)

A true sports story trys its best (spot the pun)

Clint Eastwood is a real man’s man. He won the west in Sergio Leoni’s spaghetti westerns, cleaned up the streets as Dirty Harry and even helped the Asian family next door sort out the local drug gang as a pensioner in Gran Torino. The latter, which came out in 2008 was directed by Eastwood himself. As he has matured he has become more known for his efforts behind the camera and is easily one of the most critically acclaimed directors around. His last seven films have all been recognised at the Oscars and two of his films (Unforgiven and the fantastic Million Dollar Baby) won best picture and best director at the Academy Awards.

Just like his tough on screen persona, his directional style is distinctly masculine. Unlike many contemporary film makers who rely on quick edits and tricksy camera shots to add style to very little substance (I’m looking at you Michal Bay) Eastwood’s directional style is simple, objective and to the point. He relies on good story telling to enrapture his audiences and has a flair for picking fantastic scripts. It is to great disappointment then that Invictus is a departure from his usual talent. A man as amazing as Nelson Mandela should provide more than enough substance for Eastwood to display his seemingly effortless skill, but what he has produced here is nothing more than a fairly good sports movie.

The film is based on the amazing true story of the South African Rugby teams’ efforts to win the world cup in 1995. Mandela, going against the advice of his administration, uses the team as a chance to unite the violently divided whites and blacks in the country. It works.

A short synopsis but that is the basis of the film. Underneath the simple sports story are several simmering areas that could have been explored, but they are all pushed aside in order to focus on the Rugby. Nelson’s time in prison and his turbulent family life are referenced but never truly investigated; the violent racial divide provides a backdrop to give the matches more substance but nothing more.

The film has attracted the most attention from the press due to its performances. Both Matt Damon and Morgan Freeman have received Oscar nominations for their performances, but I left wondering why. It has always been a dream of Freeman’s to play Mandela and who can blame him for wanting to step in the shoes of one of the most inspiring men on the planet. However, the Mandela seen in this film is frustratingly lacking in personality. Every time he utters a sentence it feels like he is making a speech to the nation, even if he is just requesting tea from his assistant. He speaks in metaphors and inspirational lexicon; clearly Eastwood wanted to motivate his audience through Mandela’s knowledge and beliefs but in doing this he sets up a barrier that never lets us see him as a person. He becomes a symbolic figure, impressive but never involving; even when doing the simplest tasks he seems to be spouting poetry. Due to this choice in scripting, Freemans apt performance is overwhelmed by speech after speech, he gets no opportunity to show much emotion.

The closest I came to empathising with him was when he received news that his daughter wasn’t coming to see him and he for one moment he shows anguish and hurt. Freeman chooses to simply glance down to the floor to show his hurt but this says more about the man he truly is than his lengthy prose ever could. For a man has spent half of his life in prison this quick reveal of some of the hurt within him was to fleeting.

Matt Damon’s performance as South Africa’s team captain Francois Pienaar is slightly more filled out. We see more about his family life, his motivations and most importantly his personality. He makes a convincing South African rugby player which for someone better known as Jason Bourne is impressive.

Enough about performances though, a sports movie must make its sport exciting. Rugby is an unusual choice; it lacks the last minute ticking clock action of American Football, and the stop/start plays which allows constant motivational speeches. Eastwood convincingly manages to squeeze both of these clichés into the matches. The camera is placed firmly at pitch level; he gets the viewer fully involved in each pass as muddy turf and boot studs fly towards the camera. Eastwood, for the most straight shooting manly director around, needed to inject a little more testosterone into his shooting style. He relies too much on slow motion, which is effective used sparingly but detracts from the violence and speed of the game. He fails to really show the weight and aggression being thrown around on the field. None the less, the build up to the World Cup final is well done, exciting, moving and had me twitching in excitement.

If you want to see a film that deals with race issues in South Africa, then see the sci-fi District 9. What Eastwood does is capture the significance of sport. More than entertainment or a distraction, it is powerful force that can capture the attention of the World and unite people of all backgrounds. This may sound like a cliché in itself, but Eastwood makes a convincing case for its potential. In focusing purely on this message, he overlooks the more important issues that surround Mandela. That film is still to be made, and while I’m sure Eastwood and Freeman could do this better than anyone else, they came up short this time.

The Wolfman (Joe Johnson, 2010)

You won't be howling in horror, this wolf packs no bite...

Easily the most hyped horror film in recent memory, I awaited the appearance of the Wolfman with baiting breath at an advanced preview earlier this week. The horror genre has a distinct following, and the atypical horror fan was not to be found in this sold out screening. Packed with families and couples young and old, a distinctly mainstream audience was present. This is unusual for a genre which usually has its hardcore fans of blood-thirsty hormonal adolescents and gore hounds. Universal have had this picture in the pipe-line for four years, clearly determined to start a new horror franchise. Last minute editing, script changes, and a huge marketing push left me anxious to see the finished product. I left, along with the other few hundred patrons, glad to have seen the film at a free screening, as it is not worth the money.

Gothic horror has seen a recent revival in recent years so a re-make of Universal’s 1940s classic comes as no surprise. Horror comes in waves, usually playing on our current fears in society. The last decade we’ve had a string of Asian horror remakes (The Ring, The Grudge), the revival of 1970s exploitation cinema dubbed ‘torture porn’ (Hostel, Saw) and a gothic revival. The former two have seen some excellent examples of the horror genre; the latter has seen the likes of the Underworld Trilogy, Constantine, Dorian Grey and a barrage of Vampire films. Few of these are good films, and The Wolfman, fitting nicely into this cannon, has little to live up too. Despite this, as a fantasy horror film it is sub-standard.

The films style, script, acting, direction and achievement in horror is best described as creaky. Like a haunted house, a staple of classic horror, it immediately begins to fall apart from the outset. Probably due to the pressure of creating a hit, and beginning a franchise, the film went through rigorous re-writes and re-editing resulting in a very uneven tone. It doesn’t know whether to be gory fun, poignant drama or a dark and atmospheric chiller.

The film beings with Benicio Del Toro’s character Lawrence Talbot returning to England after hearing about his brothers mysterious death. Staying with his brother’s widow Gwen, and his father, played by a grouchier than usual Anthony Hopkins, he quickly discovers that his brother was killed by a Werewolf. In an attack, he is bitten, the full moon occurs, and you can pretty much work out the rest as Talbot turns from stately investigator to hairy killer.

Joe Johnson is used to dealing with monsters in his films. The creatures that chased the young children in his hit 90s film Jumangi terrified me as a child, and his dinosaur on dinosaur fights in Jurassic Park 3 saved an otherwise tedious film. It is a shame that he managed to squeeze more tension and scares into a PG rated family film, that in this ‘adult’ horror. In an attempt to break from his kid friendly image, and in keeping with the traits of gothic horror, Johnson squeezes a fair bit of blood and guts into his wolf attacks. As a horror fan I lapped it up. There are decapitations, disembowelments and flesh ripping a ‘plenty. These moments are what fun horror cinema is about, and for a brief moments the film almost reaches the heights of the ultimate lycanthrope film An American Werewolf in London. However, not satisfied to be a fun horror, it is weighted down with false aspirations of being a gothic classic, which it most certainly is not.

Between these brief moments of fury are long lulls which attempt to give humanity to the characters and inspire pathos in the audience. Horror can be fun, it can also be moving, but Wolfman is not. Underneath the hokey affects and melodrama, the classic Monsters which dominated Universals line-up in the 1940s such as Frankenstein, Dracula, and the original Wolfman had real sadness to them. Johnson clearly intends for this to occur in his film too. Talbot’s relationship with Gwen turns from compassion to love, and the relationship between father and son turns sour, all further complicated by his furry disorder. One twist that occurs in the film's third act is laughable and predictable, taking the film from fun, too boring, to plain silly. Talbot’s love interest is never fully explored and we are meant to just believe in their relationship which has no real substance.

Their only intimate scene involves skipping stones across a lake, is that an indication of their undying love for each other?

Similarly reduced until all sense is lost is Talbot’s containment in an asylum for the insane, a staple feature in Gothic literature. This seems to have been included simply as a tribute to the genre and is condensed into a montage showing brief glimpses of ill-treatment. This does lead to an effective set piece where Talbot explores his animalistic urges eating up all those that doubted his sanity. Here the glimpses of the fun horror returns, but is too short lived.

Returning to the father and son relationship, it could have been deeply explored. Revelations come steadily leading Talbot to question his father’s intentions and possible involvement in his own mother’s death. It all climaxes in a melodramatic tirade with Hopkins turning into a pantomime baddie shouting and ranting throughout his mansion. Any underlying sadness is under shadowed by over-blown emotion and theatrics. The acting saviour of the film is Hugo Weaving as an Inspector Abberline, who doubts the Werewolf rumours until the last possible moment. He is conniving and slick, a Sherlock Holmes for horror, but is grossly underused in the script.

The key element of gothic horror, one which could have been the saving grace of the film is the atmosphere. Tim Burton is the expert in this field, and the film owes a debt to him, not least due to Danny Elfman’s hauntingly familiar soundtrack. The film gets weighed down in ropey C.G.I, cheapening the Werewolf transformations and making the dark style too heavy handed. It does not fall into the pitfalls of Underworld at least which has a shooting style so dark that you need night vision goggles to tell what’s coming on. Woodlands, fire, mansions, all the elements of gothic horror are present, but none are used in a manner which induces fear or wonderment. Without a convincing foreboding tone, the feat factor fails to work. A few simple ‘boo’ moments are done affectively, but making someone jump is the easiest thing to do in horror. Loud music, a sudden movement, may make you scream and laugh, but far more effective are those rare horror films that get under your skin through psychological involvement. This is a far too simple film to achieve that.

Big budget Hollywood horror is a rarity and maybe it should stay that way. The Wolfman has the gore, but its uneven tone and pacing removes any suspense, fear or poignancy. The climax is reduced to a long cat and mouse chase that is devoid of tension, and like most of the film, the ending is rushed and soulless. Too overblown to be fun, too serious to be scary; I hate to say it Universal, but this may be one franchise you may want to have the vet put down.

Many thanks to Dean Clatworthy for the preview tickets: visit www.deanclatworthy.com. For an alternative take on the film, check out my post-graduate buddy Adam Sidaway’s blog at www.sidawayretreospective.blogspot.com

Precious: Based of the Novel Push by Sapphire (Lee Daniels, 2009)

Precious - You may feel this way after watching her life.

Lee Daniels’ low budget surprise success film is not an easy sell. Even its full title, Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, is a mouth full. Trying to persuade mainstream cinema goers to watch a film about an obese, illiterate African American who goes through a series of horrific events involving sexual, physical and emotional abuse and is giving birth to her second child, whose father is her own is not the usual material of Saturday night entertainment.

The film starts on a downer, when Precious gets kicked out of high school. It doesn’t get any better, and never will you be happier so see the faint light at the end of a dark, long tunnel. Using largely unknown young women the film paints a realistic portrayal of deprived characters trying to get by in Harlem. The reason this film escapes the standard clichés of growing up in Harlem, done many times before by the likes of Spike Lee, is the performances. The acting in the film has a real air of documentary realism to it.

The unknown Gabourey Sidibe plays precious with great skill; she is an repressed character, reserved, unconfident and uncharismatic. Accompanying here throughout the film are her peers in school which are all diverse, and well fleshed out. One performance that washes all others away however is done by American comedian Monique, who plays Precious’s mother. Two standout scenes, one where she emotionally torments Precious and one showing an heart-wrenching breakdown are amongst the best displays of acting I have ever seen. Making the audience feel sorry for a mother who has subjected her child to so much abuse is an achievement, and Monique injects so much heartache, bitterness and passion into her performance that by the end of it, it is her that moves you the most. Never likable, but incredibly pathetic by the end, she is one of the most disturbing and interesting characters ever shown in film.

Precious’s passiveness is so frustrating to watch, and introduces the film's greatest strength and flaw. The film is a series of nasty events happening to one person. It is draining, depressing, yet never sentimental. Due to her passiveness Precious feels more like a symbol than a character, a body onto which all the strife and deprivation that occurs to women happens to. Moments of happiness are brief and quickly counteracted with another horrific revelation in her life. It is because of the linear nature of the events that the film feels so scripted. Underneath all the great performances is a story that has been told a thousand times. However, there is something refreshing in seeing a film that has great and stirring monologues, a trait that seems to have died out long ago.

The biggest cliché in the film is Precious’s teacher, who goes to extraordinary lengths to help her, even allowing her to stay in her house. This character has been seen in Dangerous Minds, Couch Cater, Dead Poets Society and so on. The moral core of the story is twofold. Never give up despite the odds that face you, and intervene to enrich someone’s life when needed. Two valid morals, but the film is that determined to push suffering through the screen that all the audience is left with is unrelenting anguish.

One device the film does use in an attempt to find its own voice, are fantasy sequences; when ever things get tough for precious the film cuts to a scene of her fantasising about a rich and famous version of herself. The colour palette goes from its dull city greys to vibrant reds as she imagined escaping her repressed existence. While at first these are a nice touch, and provide much needed light relief, they quickly become predictable.

It’s difficult to work out who this film would appeal too. I must admit, I can see why it has done well, but it just didn’t do enough for me. I left affected by what I had seen, but only due to a stirring ending that I had spend 100 minutes suffering to attain. I have seen films that express the important issue of segregation and derogation of African American’s many times before, and while being a strong piece within that field, it is nothing revolutionary.

The Road (John Hillcoat, 2009)

Depressing, Terrifying and Bleak: this is how the end of the world should feel.

John Hillcoat’s film based on the novel The Road by Cormac McCarthy is not for everyone. Like the book, spectators may find it unrelentlessly grim and moody; some may even find it tedious. It is a simple story set in the post-apocalyptic near future, about a father and son trying to get to the southern coast of America. It is 100 minutes that simply documents their attempts at survival in a barren land lacking in food and full of danger.

In Hollywood apocalyptic cinema seems to come in pairs (ironically like the animals in Noah’s ark). In 1998 Armageddon and Deep impact were realised within weeks of each other and both concerned mankind’s attempts to prevent an asteroid ending earth for one and all. In both films the good old reliable American Government stepped in and saved the day for the rest of us useless countries. Now in 2010 we have The Book of Eli (see my review) and The Road. Interestingly in this post 9/11 and global warming conscious society we live in, film makers have stopped looking at the reasons to end the world. In these pessimistic credit crunchy times, it appears to be taken as an inevitable fact that at some point we’re going to have to face that very event.

The Road begins one minute before the apocalyptic event, which is shown only by a warm glow outside the unnamed protagonist’s (known only as Father) house. Whatever it is, it has ravished the landscape and killed off most of the world’s population. Like The Book of Eli, the film makes no attempt to explain the cause of the anonymous cataclysmic event, but focuses on what happens after, and where the sources of hope lie. Despite its bleakness and overarching pessimism I found The Road to be far more moving, and in a way, uplifting, than Denzel Washington’s preach ‘em up.

In Hillcoat’s last film The Proposition you could feel the harsh heat of the Australian outback coming off the screen. The director along with his fantastic cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe (who created moody emo feel in the Twilight films) creates as powerful a vision in this film. As Father and Son trudge through the mud, explore deserted towns and shelter away from the rain, the greyness and heavy wet air appear to wash over you. Using large panoramic shots, and uncomfortable close ups of their ever worsening ill and thin faces, I was immersed into a dystopian landscape with far greater affect than that of any 3D digital animation could ever achieve.

Their journey feels long, and occasionally due to the slow pacing the film can feel tedious, but never boring. There biggest worries are the simple things we take for granted, food, shelter and safety. It is this intimate, desperate and simple struggle that makes the film feel so realistic. Occasionally the pair encounters danger; the vast majority of the surviving humans are cannibals. Hillcoat never grants us full blown set pieces, but genuinely frightening moments where their lives feel at peril. One stunning sequence sees them come across a basement full of starving naked prisoners been kept for food. When the residents come home, an incredible quick, but stunningly tense chase sequence occurs. It is these brief moments that reminds the audience exactly how little chance of survival they have.

Viggo Mortensen is fantastic as the Father, and it is his determination to keep his son safe that gives this film an uplifting feel, making the unbearable journey bearable. Hope doesn’t come down to religion, or finding savour, it comes down to the knowledge that selfless acts still occur in the most desperate of times. When they do hit a good spot on their way to the coast, such as finding a can of coke, or a hot spring to bath in, they find a reason to keep on fighting. Hillcoat keeps these moments sparse, to ensure that the apocalypse still feels like the end of the world. Also brief are flashbacks to moments with the Fathers wife, played by Charlize Theron.

The film does have a slight misogynistic feel to it, as her determination to give up, and his determination to survive play off against each other. Another slight gripe is the use of voice over, quoting directly from McCarthy’s text. His novel is almost like an elongated poem, and the visuals do the book justice. However the very occasional use of voice over feels like it is just explaining things in case the audience hasn’t caught on, and this takes away from the quiet yet powerful tone of the film. There is very little spoken dialogue within the scenes, and Hillcoat should have had the guts to let his impressive visuals and the haunting (and occasionally terrifying) score do the talking without a voice over.

The film is about delaying the inevitable, death. When nearly everyone else in the world has died, how long can you battle on for? It is about struggle and more intimately it is about the relationship between a father and son. It is this intimacy that makes the film incredibly moving. The end does border on being slightly melodramatic, but I was so drawn into the story and struggle I didn’t care. It is a film that may frustrate as much as may move, but after experiencing the movie; you won’t want to ever experience life after the apocalypse.

Avatar (James Cameron, 2009)

Welcome to the future of cinema; its' not so bright.

Reportedly, director James Cameron finished his first Draft of Avatar in 1994. That’s just after Arnie’s terrorist shoot ‘em up True lies, and a few years before my no.1 guilty pleasure in life, Titanic. Avatar, we are lead to believe, is the future of film. Avatar, a film so futuristic, Cameron had to wait 15 years for the rest of the world to catch up. Visually, that claim may ring true, but taken any other way, the future of cinema will not be much different from the pop-corn fodder dominating multiplexes summer after summer.

I went into the IMAX cinema, put on my oversized shades, and waited in giddy excitement. When the credits rolled, I left overwhelmed by what I had just seen. First and foremost, Avatar is a beautiful film. Pandora, the home of the Na’vi (a combination of smurfs and elves with a tree hugging life philosophy) is expertly crafted. Waterfalls, mountain ranges and neon lit woodlands are fantastically and realistically put onto screen. Unlike many critics, I completely buy into the potential of 3D cinema. Cameron uses the technology with real maturity. The majority of 3D films so far have used it as a cheap gimmick, thrusting debris, body parts and other various objects out of the screen, thus, reminding the viewer they are sitting in a cinema watching a film. The 3D in Avatar takes away the flat barrier that a cinema screen presents; the third dimension should never be jumping out in front of the audiences face (I’m looking at you Final Destination 3D); it should create depth, feel like it can be stepped into. That’s immersive cinema, and Avatar pulls it off.

So far, I have shown nothing but praise for 160 minutes of ‘the future’. However, it is possible to shower the film with superlatives without referring to the most important part in film, its’ story. Post-modernists fear that there is nothing original left to say or make in our society. Every possible story and style has already been done. If you buy into that view, then Avatar clearly demonstrates this. I left the cinema high on a drug many Hollywood films offer, eye-candy. Its effects made me immediately called several people to tell them see the film. When the come down kicked in, and I actually began to think about what I had seen, the film’s flaws dominated my impression of the film.

The plot involves the ‘RDA Corporation’s’ attempts to mine for a valuable and rare mineral creatively titled ‘unobtanium’ which is found on Pandora. Due to the planets deadly atmosphere, certain humans are selected to use Na’vi avatars to research into the location of ‘unobtanium’ and learn the way of the natives. A new comer to this team, Jake Sulley (played by Sam Worthington), falls in love with a native, and decides to prevent RDA from destroying their home, which is where their mineral is situated.

Jake is a likable action hero, and his change from Pandora destroyer to Pandora’s saviour is done with some flair. His human friends in Avatar form are also engaging, if a little nerdy. Their exploration and adventures on the planet are initially thrilling; one highlight including a tense chase sequence after Jake disturbs a huge creature and runs for his giant blue 9ft life. However, after the first hour when we are soaked into a beautiful landscape, the pacing of the film drags. The plot itself seems to come from the class of script writing 101. The standard rough hero whose heart melts over the innocence of natives has been done many times before (see Dances with Wolves and The Last Samurai). Enemies are created, relationships are made and consummated, and the equilibrium is disrupted and can only be resolved by our hero.

Despite its predictability, the film feels baggy, at least an hour of it is unnecessary and at times confusing. Avatar clearly wants to become one of the classic film epics; this is clear due to its length and sincerity. If it is to join this cannon, it needs to have some epic ideas behind it to carry the audience through its length, or at least a tightly constructed, constantly moving plot.
Instead of something of substance filling in the gaps between the largely fantastic set pieces. Cameron fills the screen time with forced, un-subtle, left-wing hippy politics. The Na’vi are tree-huggers disguised as giant blue aliens. They dance round ‘the tree of life’ and communicate with nature.

One scene sees them resurrecting a dead body by meditating in a giant circle and talking to tree roots.

This admirable, yet rather half-hearted ‘save the planet’ tone is fine if Cameron could follow it through. Instead he completely un-does is message by donating the last 30 minutes of the film to gun pornography. The forest is set on fire, the peaceful ‘hippy’ Na’vi’s become deadly warriors, and everything natural is torn to shreds. Victory only comes when everything is burnt to the ground. What is left is a confused, unoriginal film that knows it has something impressive to show off but doesn’t know what to put in it. Instead, everything is thrown in. Every film cliché is here, including corny one liners and slow motion escapes.

When you are watching human flesh and blood actors, you can make an emotional attachment even in the weakest of filmic moments. This is due to our ability to read body language, whether it’s a tear, a laugh or the smallest flicker of the lips. All of this has been done by the cast, captured by incredible motion sensors and then manipulated by technology wizards to perfection. However, at times it can feel cold and clinical, and C.G.I blue giants no matter how impressively created they are, can never make up for the real thing. Due to this Avatar needs more than impressive visuals and breath-taking set pieces. It needs to have a script with real emotion, to make up for the synthetic characters on screen. It doesn’t, and due to this is nothing more than simple, well made, animated adventure film.

I liked Avatar, but as time seeps on from my last viewing of it, I think less and less of it. Visually, we have witnessed the future. There is a lot to enjoy in the film, but I guarantee when you take off your glasses and make your way back into your real life, you will only be left with a pretty but vacant memory of the film. Avatar is revolutionary, but only for good looking escapist entertainment and nothing more.