Short review: Misery

Director: Rob Reiner
(1990)

It’s unfortunate to remark that 1990 thriller Misery is less than the sum of its parts. James Caan, Kathy Bates, directed by Rob Reiner and based on a Stephen King novel; it has the makings of a classic. Yet these components are functional rather than sensational, leaving Misery feeling slightly undercooked. Famed novelist Paul Shelton (Caan) has a car crash only to be thankfully rescued by his “number 1 fan” Annie Wilks (Bates). His injuries leave him bed ridden as Annie’s crazy obsession with him bubbles to the surface. Bates does a good job as this distressingly creepy crazed fan, although she often overdoes key moments with a little too much lunacy. This is a contrast to Caan; giving a performance so phoned in that he’s almost catatonic at times. The film is certainly disturbing; although its concept isn’t suited to the films stretched running time.

Batman Begins review

Henri Ducard: No, no, no. A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed, or locked up. But if you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely. 
Bruce Wayne: Which is? 
Henri Ducard: A legend, Mr. Wayne. 

Director: Christopher Nolan
(2005)

Batman Begins is one of those films that is far better than it should be. On paper it’s a recipe for disaster, a talented yet relatively unknown director working with a huge budget for the first time to create a film about Batman. After the mess that was Batman and Robin, everyone was sure the caped crusader would never star in a half decent Hollywood production ever again. Yet seemingly out of the blue comes Batman Begins, the first in director Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy and hands down the best superhero origin story ever made.

What's most surprising about Batman Begins is how Nolan has taken what we think we know about the character and moulded it into a fresher, more organic form. Gone are the ridiculous gadgets, corny lines and lazy attempts at comedy; all thrown away to make room for a more serious Batman. This is an origin story, so we don’t even start with our titular hero, but instead with Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale). Holed up half way around the world beating criminals while in the confines of a jail, he meets the enigmatic Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson). Ducard offers him training with the League of Shadows, a ground of vigilantes and assassins. Through flashbacks we learn of Bruce’s childhood and relationship with Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes), his parent’s demise and his phobia of bats. Soon Bruce returns to Gotham to take power from Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) the mob boss who has a chokehold on the city.

Nolan's Batman works because of this extensive backstory and a lengthy portion of screentime is used to fully flesh out the man behind the cowl. The first half of the film is Bruce Wayne’s story, a choice that certainly pays dividends to this legendary character. By developing Bruce this extensively, Nolan has managed to make us truly care for Batman. The strength of this strong script is proliferated by Bales ace performance, quite easily the best representation of Bruce that has ever been committed to celluloid. The importance of well written characters extends to the whole cast too, a keep emphasis from Nolan seems to be bringing DC’s most famed universe alive. Bruce’s loyal butler Alfred (Michael Caine) gives the film a touch of comic relief, his wise observations and wisecracks are worked excellently by veteran actor Caine. The same applies to Wayne Enterprises employee Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) the genius behind Batman’s technologically advanced gear. While these roles may appear relatively minor in the grand scale of things, they nonetheless feel deep enough to augment Bruce- and therefore Batman- as a character.

While the primary focus of Batman Begins is on character and plot development, the action sequences are never neglected in favour of more drama. For the most part Batman’s brawls are shot and edited sharply, a clever trick to give the impression of his incredible speed and ability. While some fights descend into a blur of thugs falling to the ground, we’ve invested so much into the character that the messy editing doesn’t negate to severely from any enjoyment the film radiates. No such issues persist with the vehicle scenes though, which are blisteringly fast and exciting. With the newest iteration of the Batmobile (in this case named the ‘tumbler’) the film delivers an immense payoff with a chase through the streets of Gotham. Evasions, pile ups and stunts that rip the tiles off of roofs, Cinematographer Wally Pfister certainly knows how to craft an engaging, exhilarating scene.

While Batman Begins is a grounded film, it’s by no means completely immersed in realism. Villains and their usually absurd powers are either dropped or backed up by some vague yet consistent science. Batman’s cape allows him to glide by passes electric currents through it and the Tumbler has a rocket booster attached to the back. Yet because the narrative isn’t silly, these oddities can be overlooked at no expense of the films quality or how enjoyable it is. Even secondary villain Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy) has his reasons; the tattered mask is to intimidate his patients, an accessory that compliments his mind shredding fear gas.

For its strong writing from David S. Goyer and Jonathan and Chris Nolan, Begins does have its moments of audience patronising handholding. Close to the films stellar climax, exposition is lathered on not once but twice, both of which feel slightly unneeded. Still, it’s easy to poke holes in such minor issues when the rest of the film gets everything so very right. Batman Begins is the film that gave the world a fantastic new director and the rebirth of one of the world’s most famous superheroes. In this context, it’s unmissable.

Moonrise Kingdom review

Sam: What happened to your hand? 
Suzy: I got hit in the mirror. 
Sam: Really? How did that happen? 
Suzy: I lost my temper at myself. 

Director: Wes Anderson
(2012)

In a way, it’s a shame just how little of Wes Andersons work I have seen. A weird and wonderful director, I was instantly drawn to his 2012 film Moonrise Kingdom due to the delightful Fantastic Mr Fox (2008). While my love for stop motion animation did factor somewhat on my enjoyment of the film, the oddball and erratic sense of humour was the true reason for my affection. With what felt like grand expectations I viewed Moonrise Kingdom, a film that’s as challenging as it is wonderful.

The story of Andersons latest is incredibly basic, lacking in any form of narrative complexities. Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) is the most unpopular member of the Khaki scouts, lead by the often hilarious scoutmaster Ward (Edward Norton). On the other side of the Island of New Penzance resides Suzy Bishop, a young girl with aggression issues and an affection for reading. Both are feeling stifled from their respective lives and hatch a plan to run away together as a storm approaches the island. With the help of Scoutmaster Ward, Police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis) sets up a search party to find the youngsters before the weather ravages the island.

Staying true to form, Moonrise exhibits the same charm Anderson is renowned for. An emphasis on children, who often possess grown up tendencies, a bittersweet tone and lots of quirky situations; it’s all here. Yet in spite of this delightful front, Moonrise Kingdom feels remarkably half-hearted. It’s not as kooky as some of his other works (such as Fantastic Mr Fox) but doesn’t possess a strong core narrative to make up for the lessened charm. It makes for a bizarre film, one that equally hard to define as it is to appreciate. A fine example is Suzie’s parents, played by Bill Murray and Frances McDormand. Both of these talented actors are squandered in almost throwaway roles, their lawyer lifestyles and almost eccentric tics being severely underutilized by a director who smothers his films with such actions.

Other members of the cast aren’t squandered in the same manner however, with both Norton and Willis stealing a good few scenes. They're helped by an extravagant script from Anderson and Roman Coppola (the duo’s second collaboration after The Darjeeling Limited) consisting of some of the oddest humour you’ll ever come across in films. From electroshock therapy for orphans to fishing hook earrings, the use word bizarre would be an understatement. While the dry humour has been retained, Moonrise hasn’t been written to make its audiences sides ache, but rather to make them chuckle instead. The restrained comedy sits well with the overall tone of the film itself, which exudes a gentler, mellower feel. This is unmistakably Anderson and detractors won’t find solace in this latest outing, the humour remains as wet as any desert.

Set in 1965, Moonrise Kingdom is steeped in immersive period touches that bring this small island community to life. Augmenting this is the choice of shooting the film on 16mm, bathing scenes in a smeared, mystical hue. The format’s restrictions rears its ugly head every once in a while-especially with long shots- but Robert D. Yeoman’s cinematography is strong. While the distinguishing visuals may signal otherwise, Moonrise Kingdom is unmistakably a Wes Anderson film. The man clearly has a formula and his love for having focus on youthful characters, whether in age or spirit, is fully intact. Yet the final product feels a tad disappointing, under cooked somewhat. It’s not a bad effort, but doesn’t feel as fleshed out as one would expect from such a talented director. A film to watch and enjoy, but not to love and cherish.

Short review: Pineapple Express

Director: David Gordon Green
(2008)

From producer Judd Apatow comes yet another dull comedy aimed solely at teens who want to do soft drugs and laugh at penis jokes. Seth Rogen is our stoner in question, mistaken for a hitman and chased by corrupt cops and his drug dealers (James Franco) supplier. That’s as deep as the film gets as director David Gordon Green pads the film with unfunny jokes and a vast amount of time dedicated to smoking pot. Though some are solid; helped tremendously by some sharp delivery by Rogen and Franco. An action packed climax covers its grim brutality with some fun slapstick brawling, but this is another perfect case of too little, too late. The rest of the film is forgettable fluff, as boring as it is unfunny. There's no need for it to be 108 minutes long, its concept burns out after the first half.

Zero Dark Thirty review

Dan: Can I be honest with you? I am bad fucking news. I'm not your friend. I'm not gonna help you. I'm gonna break you

Director: Kathryn Bigelow
(2012)

ZDT kicks off in startling fashion; a black screen reminiscent of Kubrick, the substance of the scene comes not from what we see, but what we hear. Actual audio from the September 11^th attacks on the world trade centre, people screaming, crying, a devastating combination of scared and confused. For a film that charts the journey of the locating and killing Osama Bin Laden, Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker) takes the bold decision to start at the beginning. What begins is the almost 10 year hunt for the infamous perpetrator, shown through the determination and incredible will of one phenomenally dedicated woman, Maya (Jessica Chastain).

Maya’s journey begins in a detention centre in a CIA blacksite, bearing witness to the torture of Amman (Reda Kateb) a known associate of Al Qaeda. The dirty work is executed by Dan (Jason Clarke), an interrogator who becomes a close ally of Maya’s. Chastain does a wonderful job of showing Maya’s initial fragility, merely a young woman almost fresh out of high school. Dan’s interrogation is successful, giving Maya the name of Abu Ahmed. We follow Maya through her hunt for leads to Bin Laden, a mission she dedicates her life to.

As an audience, we all know how ZDT will end; the conclusion is ingrained in the memory of anyone old enough to remember the horror of 9/11. But the success of Bigelow and Hurt Locker writer Mark Boal is how this conclusion is reached, a strong emphasis on plot over story. Much like her previous film, ZDT can’t be stuffed into a genre like many films; instead it exists in many, ranging from drama to action. The opening, torture focused act makes way for the meat and potatoes of the film, almost an investigative thriller, not to mention a character study of Maya. Its engrossing stuff, riveting to the point of making the spurts of action almost seem dull.

Calling Chastain’s Maya the beating heart of ZDT would be a slightly misleading statement. Once again she steals scenes effortlessly, something she has done in everything appearance from The Tree of Life to Lawless. The talent of the actress isn’t in question here but instead the depth of her character. Maya is a machine, dedicating most of her life to hunting down terrorists. She’s cold, calculating and merciless; one dimensional up until the film’s sensational final shot. Strong female protagonist she might be, but she isn’t a complex one. This is somewhat bizarre, especially considering how brutal torturer Dan has his emotional frailties and intricacies. The fact Maya is based on an actual real life person (or persons) is ever so slightly terrifying.

For the most part Boal's dialogue is gripping and exciting, guiding the audience through the relatively complex plot without resorting to patronising handholding. Yet it has the occasional lapse, moments when he gives talented actors monumentally ridiculous things to say. It’s unfortunate that Chastain’s Maya takes the brunt of the flak, spouting shit such as (“I'm the motherfucker that found this place, sir.”), harmfully stripping away the seriousness of the films events up to this point. These slips into the outlandish aside, Boal has succeeded admirably.

Bigelow shifts gears once again in the final 3^rd, a startlingly accurate of SEAL Team 6’s raid on Bin Laden’s compound. It’s almost shot in real time, minute for minute. The ferocity of doors being breached and the vicious sound of bullets as they tear through the air are impressive, the lack of music amplifying the quality of the sound design, as well as perfectly setting the atmosphere. It’s entertaining, but never cinematic, Bigelow has puts more emphasis on crafting an accurate portrayal rather than an engrossing action scene. While this is admirable, taking some artistic licence with such a pivotal moment would have worked wonders.

 Taking into consideration the subject matter, Bigelow has succeeds admirably with Zero Dark Thirty. We all knew what the outcome of this 2 and a half hour film would be, but the way this conclusion is reached is engrossing. A fine example of how an excellent plot can infuse life in even the most well known stories.

Marble Hornets review: Episode 12 to 26 season 1 conclusion

!!!!!Warning: Mild Season 1 Spoilers!!!!!

Concluding season 1, Marble Hornets has almost reinvented itself during the second half of its debut. Our protagonist and Youtube uploader Jay is embroiled into the actions of the enigmatic Operator more frequently, leading to plenty of twists and scares to go along the way. As far as being both entertaining and horrifying, Marble Hornets is astonishing.

What elevates this half of the season above the first is the stronger emphasis on story, which in turn solidifies the force of the horror. E13 shows us an odd recurring symbol, E14 shows the Operators violent side as Alex wakes up covered in blood while E17 highlights the effects that close proximity to the Operator has on people. What's wonderful is how many of these episodes seem normal for the majority of their running time, until at the last second you realise that our faceless antagonist has been lurking in the background the entire time.

As Jay gets drawn into the mystery, the tension is ratcheted up with fierce intensity. A foray into an abandoned house at night reeks of cliché, but what is shown inside these empty rooms was one of the most genuinely scary moments I've ever witnessed. Afterwards, things become more and more strange, Jays paranoia almost identical to Alex’s as he films himself sleep, an entry that provokes fear in the viewer just as much as it does in Jay. Various plot strands are thrown around towards the season’s conclusion, from coughing fits, pill bottles and creepy dolls that litter the floor.

Season 1 has a conclusion that’s equal parts weird and scary, adding to the hopelessness of the situation of our protagonist. Sometimes cheap jumps are used thanks to some distorted audio and erratic visual artefacts, but these are no match for the real fear that brews in every new entry. New characters are introduced well, something that has proved pivotal in keeping the season fresh. The element of supernatural has been given some much needed depth, and Jay and the others involved in Alex’s Marble Hornets project. Totheark, the man in the mask, the fearsome Operator himself, the development of these characters, and the answers we gather on them, will surely be absolutely enthralling. Marble Hornets is guerrilla filmmaking executed to a level of perfection.

Short review: The Simpsons Movie

Director: David Silverman
(2007)

The Simpsons Movie simply doesn’t have the right to be this good. Constant rewrites and the weight of expectation should have buried it under a landslide of disappointment. Yet this feature length episode does what we've come to expect from the series. After Homer poisons Lake Springfield, the government enclose the town in a giant dome causing the famous family to go on the run. While the plot is mediocre, the humour is the true core of the film; perfectly blending smart jokes with postmodern nudges. The snide jabs at the government mostly fall flat however, often causing the laughs to dry up. While The Simpsons boasts a wonderful cast of side characters, very few are utilised beyond the odd joke, a severe waste of potential. The tiny 75 minute running time damages the film too, making this an accurate example of quality over quantity.

Martha Marcy May Marlene review

Patrick: You know that death is the most beautiful part of life, right? Death is beautiful because we all fear death. And fear is the most amazing emotion of all because it creates complete awareness. It brings you to now, and it makes you truly present. And when you're truly present, that's nirvana. That's pure love. So death is pure love. 

Director: Sean Durkin
(2012)

2012 seems like an incredibly clustered year for films based on cults and organised religion. Most notably is P.T Andersons The Master, a powerful, intimate epic shot in razor sharp 70mm and featuring peerless performances from Joaquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Even less renowned on the arthouse scene was Sound of My Voice, a smart and open ended drama about a cult leader who claims to have travelled back from the future. Martha Marcy May Marlene is so similar to the afore mentioned titles for a multitude of reasons. Yes, it features a ‘cult’-all 3 of them do- but they never feel similar enough to draw serious comparisons when it comes down to themes and narrative. They're all alike for 3 reasons; strong performances from their leads, multilayered and leaving the hard work up to the audience and possessing conclusions that absolutely divide audiences straight down the middle. Make no mistake; Martha Marcy May Marlene isn’t an instantly gratifying Hollywood blockbuster.

Despite insinuating 4 characters, the names in the title of the film are technically all the same person. We open with Martha (Elizabeth Olsen), a young women who has escaped the clutches of an abusive cult. Her escape is aided by her unknowing sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and fiancé Ted (Hugh Dancy). As she struggles to regain a foothold into everyday life, we are shown flashbacks to her inception into the cult; a quaint farm in New York State. It’s in these flashbacks she is known as Marcy May, a new name given to her by the leader of the group Patrick (John Hawkes). Marlene is the name she adopts when answering the phone. Through thoughtful, fragmented editing we see her life, as well as the effects her past have had on her mental wellbeing.

MMMM is helped tremendously by some subtle, yet sublime camerawork by Jody Lee Lipes. Extreme close-ups capture the emotional crescendos of confrontation; the decision to focus almost exclusively on the face of the characters is a good one. Long takes are prevalent throughout; slow, strained zooms amplify the drama and intensities of the majority of the scenes. While this technique significantly adds to the films dark, uncomfortable themes, it becomes overused by the third act; so much so the trick loses its effectiveness.

Yet what remains constant throughout this unsettling look at cults is the performance of Elizabeth Olsen. An up and coming star, she owns the role of both Martha and Marcy May, her name while she lived with the cult. The films use of jump cuts makes her work seem so much more prominent, the emotional damage that she portrays after escaping the group is shown in its full effect. The spontaneous confident girl has her innocence warped by her experiences, making her very much 2 sides of the same coin. Essentially, Olsen is playing 2 rather different characters both of which she embodies superbly; quite simply one of the best performances of the year.

The acting prowess doesn’t cease there however, as MMMM is filled with strong, realistic performances. Just how successful these actors are isn’t initially realised, their roles don’t call for eccentricities or long, impressive speeches. Instead each character is grounded, complimenting the serious tone of the narrative. This decision is what makes Antagonist Patrick so terrifying. His lies and indoctrinations sound so true, it’s easy to understand why this group of women fall for the game that he’s selling. Just how sinister he really is isn’t fully shown, but merely hinted at with scraps of dialogue littered throughout the flashbacks, another factor that adds to his unsettling menace.

After 90 minutes of Olsen’s mesmerising performance, some strong camerawork and a dark, disturbing plot, Durkin ends his film is an incredibly unsatisfying manner. Ambiguity is a wonderful thing when correctly used, yet such technique isn’t present here. While it does fit thematically, the final shot feels abrupt and frustrating, sucking the soul out of a film that had up until this point been excellent. In retrospect this conclusion hits all the right notes, yet will cause many audience members to scratch their heads in confusion. Martha Marcy May Marlene is a great debut feature for Sean Durkin, but because of the lack of payoff in the third act, I doubt it will be a popular one.

Sound of My Voice review

Peter Aitken: Somewhere in the valley, there is a woman living in a basement. She's actually amassing followers. These people believe that she will actually lead them to salvation, or whatever. And yes, she's dangerous - but we have to see this thing through. All the way. 

Director: Ben Batmanglij
(2012)

There’s something so intoxicating about cult films. Not cult in the sense of having a niche, dedicated audience, but a film about semi religious groups and their almost always twisted ideologies. While said subgenre practically always features the usual devoted followers and the charming, smooth talking ringleader, Sound of My Voice puts a subtle twist on these conventions, creating a successful combination of drama and science fiction.

After clearing the initiation, our 2 protagonists Peter (Christopher Denham) and Lorna (Nicole Vicius) follow instructions to become acquainted with a mysterious cult in the San Fernando Valley. Their hope is to expose the cult to the public; an action that Peter thinks will save the followers from a grisly fate. The leader of this unnamed group is Maggie (Brit Marling), an incredibly charismatic woman who tells everyone an incredible story. She makes the seemingly absurd statement of claiming she’s from the future-2054 to be precise- coming back to prepare others for the dangers that will soon face America. As Peter and Lorna become more engrossed with the group, the start to wonder if Maggie’s story is an elaborate lie, or if she genuinely has travelled back in time.

It should be stated that Sound of My Voice isn’t a film that spoon feeds its audience answers. Writer/star Brit Marling and writer/director Ben Batmanglij leave almost every scene or event up to interpretation, happy to leave the mental heavy lifting to their audience. This ambiguity is primarily focused upon Maggie, Batmanglij gives strong evidence to support the fact she is a time traveller, but simultaneously offers enough information to lead us to believe she’s nothing but a snake oil salesman. This open ended nature extends to other aspects of the plot, such as the purpose of the cult, the reason Maggie demands blood samples from new members and her obsession with a young girl named Abigail. Some may instantly label this as the result of a slack screenplay, but Batmanglij does enough to maintain tension and intrigue through to the closing shot.

What helps the film out magnificently is Marling’s performance as Maggie. She gives a performance that bubbles with hidden intensity, a caring character that is sharp to counter any who question her. Could she really be from 2054? She sings the group a song from the future, identified by a member who states it actually originated from the 1990’s. The second the doubt creeps in Maggie is sharp to react, claiming she wouldn’t know about the 90’s considering she was born in 2030. This is the brilliance of Marling’s work, she compliments the script perfectly, and her actions never outright reveal her true intentions. In lesser hands the films effectiveness would have been severely diminished, but this up and coming starlet succeeds almost effortlessly.

Where Sound of My Voice falters is in its 2 leads, both unlikable and convincing. Too little time is invested in these characters, underdeveloped and relatively uninteresting, especially when compared to the tour de force that is Brit Marling. Plot development becomes too snappy during the final third; a longer run time would have done wonders to the overall product. In a year that’s given us a lot of films based on cults and organised religion (The Master, Martha Marcy May Marlene), The sound of My Voice stands shoulder to shoulder with them, as open ended as it is fantastic.

Short review: John Carter

Director: Andrew Stanton
(2012)

In retrospect, it’s easy to see where Andrew Stanton’s John Carter went wrong. The budget was huge, the trailers drab and the name was totally unappealing. Yet even after the box office dust (or lack of) has settled, it’s become even more apparent that it’s simply a subpar film. Our titular hero John Carter (Taylor Kitsch) gets teleported to mars from civil war America and gets caught up in a Martian conflict while he tries to get back to earth. Despite a colossal budget and John’s ability to jump higher and throw farther (due to the different atmosphere) the action scenes are sorely lacking in both quality and quantity. Warships explode and soldiers die, but it’s all so very dull. The bloated running time, poor story, mediocre performances and special effects put the nails in the coffin of this underwhelming, muddled mess.

4

Your Sisters Sister review

Director: Lynn Shelton
(2012)

As effeminate as it may sound, I have a soft spot for romantic indie films. Big budget star studded RomComs are the bane of cinema, but by stripping away the falsities that come packaged with big studio filmmaking allows for talented directors to craft excellent work. Your Sisters Sister is that kind of film, free from the restrictions of generic mass produced shit like Friends with Kids and almost any Rachel McAdams film, allowing Writer/Director Lynn Shelton to make a film that wears true, genuine emotions and resonates with drama.

What helps bring the emotion of My Sisters Sister to the forefront is the use of a simple story. Jack (Mark Duplass) is (understandably) still grieving a year after losing his brother, so his BFF Iris (Emily Blunt) sends him to stay in her fathers spare cabin in the country in order to get some headspace. Upon his arrival at the secluded lodge he meets Hannah (Rosemarie Dewitt), Iris’ older sister who’s also looking for some privacy to clear her mind after a messy breakup. A night of heavy boozing and the surprise arrival of Iris add needed complexities to the tale which is as perversely funny as it is heart-warming.

Shelton manages to make Your Sisters Sister work by bringing together 3 genres and constructs a seamless blend that averts any banality that could crop up. This tone is set from the get go, Jacks botched speech about his dead brother being a sometimes asshole is awkwardly funny, and is followed by a chat from Iris that's tender and comforting in tone. In many directors hands this could cause for some harsh juxtaposition, 2 very differing scenes failing to garner cohesion with one another. Your Sisters Sister possesses no such trouble melding these varying tones, a talent that Shelton intelligently applies throughout.

In its simplest form, Your Sisters Sister is constructed from quality parts; each adding something necessary to the film. Shelton’s script brings the laughs and the tears, but if not for the impressive cast such talent would have been wasted. Duplass, Blunt and Dewitt tackle the screenplay with apparent ease despite the limited location and lack of other characters. When the narrative calls for it, the trio shift into high gear, delivering scenes of real emotion perfectly captured in gloriously long takes. Its scenes like this that elevate Your Sisters Sister to levels above most other indie- and for that matter mainstream- films, the brakes come off and we’re delivered a scene of blistering and memorable intensity. Sometimes this drama is applied a little thick, feeling more heavy-handed and less refined than the comedy elements. Yet this shouldn’t always be seen as a negative, events often call on moments of fierce passion in order to generate a sufficient payoff.

After a relatively fresh 90 minutes, Shelton shamelessly succumbs to the conventions of genre, even making sure to wrap things in a pretty bow. The final shot may suggest otherwise, but events resolve neatly before this attempted curveball aims to throw audiences of the scent. Yet despite this cliché, the way Shelton goes about delivering the resolution works thanks to the time invested into our trio. As a result we care, so much so the generic outcome isn’t as bothersome as one would think. As the credits roll, it becomes apparent that Your Sisters Sister is a powerful and confrontational film, capable of tackling difficult, fresh themes without breaking a sweat. Like many great titles this year, this diamond in the rough was unfairly overlooked and underrated.

Wild Bill review

Dickie: Wild Bill my arse, it’s more like mild Bill aint it?

Director: Dexter Fletcher
(2012)

It seems like every month we get another batch of generic British gangster films flooding both cinemas and bargain bins. It’s the same old story; guns, drugs and an unhealthy dose of violence. While some of these attempts are decent-Ill Manors for example-we’re along way from the heyday of British crime flicks. Lock Stock, Snatch, Layer Cake, films of such a strong calibre are sorely missing in today’s releases. While Wild Bill isn’t quite up the standard of these aforementioned greats, it’s a big step in the right direction for a genre drowning in its own shit.

Bill Hayward (Charlie Creed Miles) has recently been released from prison following an 8 year stint. He arrives back at his shabby London flat to find his wife gone and his 15 and 11 year olds sons Dean (Will Poulter) and Jimmy (Sammy Williams) left to fend for themselves. Having little in the way of feelings for each other, he intends to part ways until social services get involved, threatening to put the boys into care. Through some blackmail, Bill stays to care for the boys as his criminal past beckons him back as well as having a detrimental influence on his youngest.

While initially appearing as another thoughtless gang film, Wild Bill overcomes the obstacles of its genre by possessing heart. While Bills growth from no mark father to caring parent could be spotted a mile off, first time director Dexter Fletcher adds plausibility to Bill’s arc through some affectionate scenes. He and Jimmy throw paper airplanes off their balcony or talk about the effects prison has on people’s lives. While Dean initially loathes his barely present father, he also bonds with his dad, someone who takes the weight of parenthood of his little brother off his shoulders.

Without some strong performances, Wild Bill would fail to resonate as successfully as it does. While there's no denying Bill has a dirty past and is an awful father, Creed Miles gives the role enough layers to make the character accessible to the audience. It’s implied he’s a hard bastard, but Fletcher never resorts to violence fuelled flashbacks to prove it, much preferring to let Bill’s legend precede him. Will Poulter gives a strong turn too, successfully portraying the struggles that he has being both a parent, breadwinner, cook and cleaner. In less talented hands Dean would have been a whiney annoyance, but Poulter never overcooks things, frustrated but never aggressive. Elsewhere Neill Maskell, Andy Serkis, Leo Gregory and Iwan Rheon make up the bulk of Bills criminal acquaintances to mixed standards. Serkis (in the flesh instead of a Mocap suit) is quietly menacing, whereas Misfits Rheon is a loudmouthed stereotypical chav who frequently calls people ‘bruv’. His character and performance is laughable, at times threatening to drag the film down with it.

Despite this fresh approach to London crime, Fletcher does fall back on stereotypes from time to time. Drugs are a prominent feature, so much so that the threat they can potentially pose to the characters is reduced to nothing. The character of Roxie (Liz White) is someone we’ve seen a thousand times before as well, yet another hooker with a heart of gold. While these do dull the films sense of ambition slightly, Wild Bill feels remarkably worthwhile in a stagnant genre that’s digging its own grave.

Les Miserables review

Javert: Now Prisoner 24601, your time is up and your parole's begun. You know what that means? 
Jean Valjean: Yes, it means I'm free. 
Javert: No. 
[hands him a yellow paper] 
Javert: Follow to the letter your itinerary, this badge of shame you wear until you die. It warns that you're a dangerous man/ 
Jean Valjean: I stole a loaf of bread. My sisters child was close to death, and we were starving... 
Javert: And you will starve again unless you learn the meaning of the law! 
Jean Valjean: I've learnt the meaning of those nineteen years; a slave of the law. 
Javert: Five years for what you did. The rest because you tried to run, yes 24601... 
Jean Valjean: My name is Jean Valjean! 
Javert: And I'm Javert! Do not forget my name. Do not forget me, 24601. 

Director: Tom Hooper
(2012)

The first trailer I saw of Tom Hooper’s Les Miserables was before a 70mm screening of P.T Andersons The Master. At the time the ambition of the trailer was impressive, yet in retrospect this positive opinion was undoubtedly because of my excitement for Andersons impending film.  The Les Mis trailer rubbed off on me though, and the idea of the cast singing ‘live’ while they perform as opposed to a pre recorded track was certainly intriguing, enough to warrant the price of admission for a genre I despise. While there’s no denying Les Miserables possesses good performances, great songs and a heartbreaking narrative, the entire film is marred by some sloppy work from behind the camera.

Based on a play that’s adapted from a book, we follow criminal Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), a man who’s spent 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. His captor is the ruthless Inspector Javert (Russell Crowe)a man who will hound him for the rest of his life. After being freed Vajean breaks parole, becomes a factory owner and helps prostitute Fantine (Anne Hathaway) by saving her daughter Cosette (the wonderfully talented Isabelle Allen) from 2 cruel foster parents (Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen). As the years pass the student rebellion gains momentum in France and the charismatic Marius (Eddie Redmayne) leads the fight, all while becoming entangled in a love triangle with Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) and Eponine (Samantha Barks). This conflict will change all their lives in the most drastic of ways.

Operatic in tone, Les Mis has next to no dialogue, but instead portrays its entire story through song. Many are fantastic, both enjoyable to listen to and exemplary at developing the characters and story. Yet some are borderline harrowing, no thanks to some poor singing and acting. In fact, despite the star studded cast, very few actually live up to their high billing. Crowe performs a double act of looking bored and singing like he’s been punched in the throat, Seyfried’s voice is too shrill and Bonham Carter and Baron Cohen trash every scene in that they appear. Their scene singing “Master of the House” could be used as a form of torture to the sane and tasteful.

Yet despite lacklustre performances from a large chunk of the cast, Hugh Jackman steps up and saves the day. He is a tour de force here, the spearhead that tears through the film in a brilliant, admirable fashion, dominating every scene and every song. His inspired acting holds the film together at the seams, making up for the poor singing from Crowe and Seyfried and the poor performances from Bonham Carter and Baron Cohen. Jackman has sacrificed much to appear in his beloved stage musicals and performances making Les Mis is the perfect role for him, a combination of his 2 professions an apt demonstration of his underrated talents. You’ll never look at Jean Valjean or Wolverine the same way again.

Complimenting Jackman’s stunning performance is the riveting Miss Hathaway, bringing so much to a character whose screentime is all too brief. Her Fantine is wracked with worry and despair, all of which Hathaway emotes to a brilliant level of precision. While she doesn’t put a foot or a note wrong, she’ll almost exclusively be remembered for her rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream”, gloriously executed in a single unbroken take. While such a moment of resonance happens little too early in the film, it doesn’t detract from what will most likely be a winning performance come Oscar night.

What isn’t up to the standard of Jackman and Hathaway’s commitment to their roles is the directing of Tom Hooper. He has a stern insistence on shooting the majority of the film in constraining and stifling close ups, focusing solely on characters faces. While there is truth in his belief that emotion is centred in the face, this is taking matters to the extreme. Take the opening number “Look Down” for example. Valjean and a myriad of other prisoners are pulling a ship into a massive dock as they sing of their hardships. Such a song and event caters to the sense of scale that's needed to do the narrative justice, yet instead we’re served facial shots of Valjean and some other no name prisoners. It’s a maddening decision, singlehandedly destroying some very important scenes as the camera jerks around, barely keeping in focus. Even Hathaway’s film stealing solo is tarnished by Hooper’s poor judgement; the depth of focus is so high her powerhouse performance often becomes blurred. When you’re directing a committed actor in such a spirited scene, the decision to shoot in such a way is bewildering.

The technical failings don’t end here, as Hooper is just as sloppy with his editing. While not as detrimental as the dire cinematography, it gives the film a horribly rough finish, like an amateur had taken the reigns for the first time on a high school project. It’s painful to see Hooper act so sloppy, especially considering the phenomenal costume and set design from (Eve Stewart). 19^th century France is a grim and disgusting location, expertly captured through the filthy streets and rundown buildings. The costume design follows similar suite, impeccably designed to fit the era and the character who dons them. When taking into consideration how hard many people worked on these aspects for them to be ruined by some awful direction, it starts to make The Kings Speech seem like a fluke.

By the time its painfully long running time has reached the credits, Les Miserables will have shocked, confused, elevated and disappointed practically every member of the audience. Beyond the abysmal camerawork and direction there gleams a strong musical lead by some equally as strong actors. In the hands of a more competent director this could have been a masterpiece. Instead we get a mess, albeit a passionate one.