Film Review: State of Play (2009)

As expected after his previous first three memorable films, director Kevin McDonald has put together a technically flawless looking picture with State of Play. One with great performances and a script that at first, I worried might suffer from having too many cooks (it has three credited writers). Couple this with the fact that it is an American interpretation of an already well-respected BBC mini-series. It is relieving to report that the writing is re-soundly excellent considering that the subject matter could have potentially become derivative. The details of chasing leads and deadlines amongst a busy, yet struggling major newspaper for example, was shown believably and grippingly. Perhaps not on the level of similar themed films, it stands up well by having a substantial modern theme of online based “new-media” competing with the once leading edge print standard. Happily, the film flies the flag defiantly for the latter, with both insight and humour.

Working as a reporter for The Washington Globe, reporter Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe) sets out to a routine murder victim headline, but as more facts start to manifest, a much bigger story begins to unfold of a political cover-up involving defence force distributors, corrupt senators and even more murders. One of the main ideas behind State of Play however, is the parallels that appear between Cal’s handling of a hugely expanding conspiracy story and a police investigation. “It’s not a story! It’s a case”, Cal is abruptly told by the chief detective at one point. Nevertheless, Cal is determined for the same objective - the truth. The tension unfolds subtly with a nice cat and mouse sequence at the centre making it less a droning ‘talky’ as it is a gripping thriller with constant, finely realised twists. Kevin MacDonald knows this genre well and hardly falters bringing the script to life.

Ben Affleck as Senator Stephen Collins at the centre of all the interest suits his role and played it as well as one could have expected; straight laced with few extrovert qualities. Helen Mirren’s newspaper boss shines through with little to do and representing the new age of ‘blog reporting’, Rachel McAdams’ Della Frye counters Crowe’s McAffrey surprisingly well. Russ is top flight as always, proving that his ability to inhabit a man and all that makes him tick, makes him almost second to none within his generation of performers. Robin Wright-Penn channels her real-to-life wife scorned experiences with not surprising ease, adding weight to the supporting cast alongside small but pivotal roles from Jeff Daniels and Jason Bateman.

With such written films however, genre rules always tend to appear and even though the revelatory ending did not feel worse or better for the film, I might have been more satisfied if a reasonable, but rushed extra twist at the eleventh hour wasn't thrown in. Overall, I was thoroughly impressed despite thinking it doesn’t quite match McDonald's outstandingly tense Last King of Scotland. It is easily one of the best films of 2009 so far and as a film for adults goes, it’s a damn fine entertainment.

Film Review: Diary of the Dead (2008)

For his fifth zombie film, genre legend George A. Romero chose to re-stage the beginning three days and nights of his initial outbreak, thus making Diary of the Dead forever linked (for better or worse) with his original film, Night of the Living Dead, more than any of the others. Rather than just being a re-tread of that groundbreaking movie however, Romero opts to modernize the situation, giving us a very 21st century essay of the events.

This concept is echoed mainly through Dairy’s literal presentation, with the whole film viewed through the home video recordings of one Jason Creed (Joshua Close) which has been spliced together into a film within the film, “The Death of Death”. Jason’s motive is to upload his footage as they try out run the situation to offer, what he believes, the media is failing to do, by not covering the events truthfully and without censorship. Yes the media is firmly the target or Romero’s angst here, though somewhat less veiled than his other films sub-texts’. Diary is a small film in almost every concern, including its ambitions.

What is noticeable about Diary though, is the numerous homage’s to earlier films of the director (Dawn of the Dead, The Crazies), in-jokes and even a cameo from the man himself. This all proves that it was a much more labour of love than his previous effort, the decent but studio-driven Land of the Dead. Happy to be returning to his independent roots, it shows with his fans being rewarded with plenty of in-the-know quirks. These will be lost on non-Romero fanatics however and thus it is ultimately more enjoyable if you are one. Not to say that it is alienating, rather that it is made for a certain type of audience and if you are not part of it, you’re less likely to enjoy the film as a whole.

On top of that, as a film it has its problems. Of the leads, only Debra (Michelle Morgan) & the Professor (Scott Wentworth) really stand out. The whole idea of the internet being a lone truth telling hero amongst society‘s great lying media is a bit muddled and unconvincing at times. However, it comes from a rushed script that if expanded a bit more, could have proved more feasible. Its surprisingly short length doesn’t help and it is over all very quickly. The slight lack of zombie carnage may disappoint some gore hounds, but there is some great gore moments of course with Romero proving, even though zombie is the ‘new black‘ in Hollywood, he’s still unique when it comes to putting his beloved undead on screen. Overall, it is a worthy (re) telling of the zombie apocalypse, which initially was only planned for a much more subdued, direct-to DVD release. That might have actually benefited the film, as it is strictly for Romero hordes - anyone else might be hard pressed to see what all the fuss is about.

Finally, the biggest issue by far is the fact that the director made it in the first place. Part of me does wish that “going back to the well”, as Romero has done with here, is not the best he has left to offer. I’m not sure how many more films he has in him, but it would be nice to see something different than him clinging onto a legacy he can’t really match anymore. There is still fun to be had with Diary, and it is a very well put together effort, it just seems all very unfortunately forgettable. It would be a great film if he hadn’t already made it better 35 years ago.

Film Review: Trees Lounge (17-05-09)

The title of this finely humble film, Trees Lounge, is the name of a New Jersey bar that acts as thirty something Tommy Basilio’s (Steve Buscemi) second home throughout it‘s running time. We initially find him hung-over, waking up in the Trees fifteen minutes after last call, demanding a shot of Wild Turkey. Tommy has just been fired, broken up with his pregnant girlfriend of eight years whose now involved with his once friend and former boss Rob (Anthony LaPaglia). Despite unable to keep his own car running, Tommy mooches around town looking for work as a mechanic, but spends most of his time getting drunk at the Trees making strained if appropriate acquaintances with some of the locals. Namely one Mike (Mark Boone Junior), who himself has his own domestic issues but has chosen to spend his “vacation” coming to the Trees everyday.

One thing becomes clear to all around Tommy - including his family, that he is a bit of a sad sack loser. A leech that expects everything but is unwilling to do the work required for a person to change their life situation. Unable to really get over his previous relationship or find work, he ends up taking over his recently deceased Uncle’s Ice-Cream truck, causing more trouble than it’s worth involving the seventeen-year-old niece of his former girlfriend.

Made in 1996, Trees Lounge reminds you of what a real independent film feels like. In recent years, the line seems to have become blurred in the mainstream as too who or what exactly constitutes such a thing. However, this film is the debut work of a true artist in writer/director/star Buscemi. Made for less than two million dollars, the film’s confronting reality of the almost pointlessness of life at times, alongside an ensemble of great performances from the likes of Junior, Chloe Sevigny, Elizabeth Bracco and Daniel Baldwin give the film a real spirit and ironic humour.

Buscemi himself, as the central Tommy, plays out a meditation in all things loserdom excellently. Bad choices, selfishness, alienation, you name it; Tommy justifies such a label to himself and to all around him. Coupled with all that happens up until the poignant, almost depressing ending, it is difficult to sympathise with or for him. Not that Buscemi as writer/director expects or even wants us too. The laidback, but hardly laconic script slowly draws out circumstance in a very observatory way avoiding influencing the audience too much about how we should feel about these people. We can only gauge their actions, not really react.

The lesson then is that life is what you make it - and sitting around in a dive bar all day will not help your cause. Tommy, and many like him, are destructive people to all who are close, never fully realising until it is too late. In short, and incorporating a great soundtrack to boot, Trees Lounge is a deeply humorous, albeit bleak slice of life that, if you let it, can help put your own into perspective too.

Film Review: 10 Rillington Place (18-04-09)

Made in 1971 and set during the 1940’s, 10 Rillington Place tells the story of real life UK serial killer, John Reginald Christie, who murdered several women (including his wife) and destroyed the lives of a young couple who rented his upstairs flat. Distraught at the idea of having another baby they cannot afford, the couple, Beryl and Timothy Evans, turn to Christie who manipulates them into letting him conduct an amateur abortion with murderous results.

There is apparently still some controversy in the UK regarding these events despite Christie eventually confessing and being hanged. Regardless of what really did happen, this an amazing film. Horrific and intense - though with little actual onscreen violence, director Richard Fleischer’s effort is easily one of the best ever made about a serial killer and reminiscent of a similar masterwork, 1960's Peeping Tom.

At the centre of the film is two brilliant performances by two of Britain’s best actors. Richard Attenborough’s John Christie is a chillingly cold portrayal. No doubt an influence on certain elements of Anthony Hopkins’s essay of one Hannibal Lector, he is a soulless man, his inadequacies’ fuelling his need to murder, boarding up his victims inside the home’s crawlspace or burying them in his back garden. Opposite him is a young John Hurt, outstanding as the simple-minded, naïve Evans. He stands little chance against Christie’s manipulation of the facts during an eventual trial involving both men. Both rise to the challenge, being utterly convincing in their interpretations.

Based on a book written in 1961, it is the perfectly sombre realisation of post-war Britain that first strikes you as a major achievement for the film. The score is muted, barely rearing it's eerie head helping the film produce an even more creepy atmosphere as number 10 itself becomes a quiet house of horrors. Despite all it’s flawless moments of construction however, the pace does lag getting started, making it not easy to get into. Regardless, 10 Rillington Place's main intention is to highlight a certain dark chapter in UK legal history as well as examine capitol punishment unflinchingly. In that sense, in succeeds remarkably. See it for the acting, stick it out, and admire it for everything else it manages to accomplish.

Film Review: Watchmen (10-04-09)

With it‘s bleak concepts, black humour, non-linear narrative, convincing script and the occasional superb output of violence - bordering on squeamishly cartoon and ultra realistic, Watchmen makes for a very entertaining two and a half hours without - thankfully - overly pandering to the tent pole crowd. Everything on the surface points to it being a blockbuster, but it is not what you would expect. It comes across a dystopian offspring of The Dark Knight and Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men, and though it never tries to bury it’s comic book origins, it ultimately still feels more sci-fi than fantasy. Having never read the graphic novel, I can only applaud director Zack Synder for being able to achieve a certain reality here though. The Watchmen universe is a beautifully overcast one that from the first frame in The Comedian’s apartment or the outstanding history montage that is the opening credits - complete with Bob Dylan crooning “The times they are a-Changing” (a sign of things to come for the film’s unconventional but outstanding soundtrack), has you rooted in it’s sense of place almost as quickly as a Dr. Manhattan teleportation.

Set in an alternate 1985 to our own, with none other than Richard Nixon sleazing his way through a third term as US president, the world is on the brink of nuclear war with both Russia and the US having their fingers poised on the buttons. From the start of the film, we are already at “five minutes to midnight” - midnight being the point at which war is unavoidably imminent. Amongst all the chaos of this and an already turbulent world history, a story unfolds of a group of costumed vigilantes that has been active since the 1940’s. First branded as the Minutemen and later, when a new younger group take the reigns, the Watchmen. However, by the time the cold war story takes focus, the Watchmen have completely disbanded after being outlawed. One of the most recognisable of them is Eddie Blake aka The Comedian. His history is relevant to the story in sutble ways, and things are set in motion after he is brutally murdered in the opening scene. Dr. Manhattan is also a key figure - one who glows blue and has the perceived ability of a god after an accident changed him from a normal man to something otherworldly prone to helping the government get out of a bind (the Vietnam war for example). The film eventually expands into much broader territory beyond the Watchmen themselves, despite them staying completely central to it all. The story in fact is so encompassing, I will not even try to summarize it all, even if as some say, it couldn’t possibly be as deep as the much lauded source novel.

The casting proves to be spot on with almost everybody a seemingly perfect fit for their respective roles, particularly Patrick Wilson as the almost too-sensitive Nite Owl, and the brilliant Jackie Earle Haley as the hard-as-nails Rorschach. Some scenes or lines do fall a bit flat - while it is impressive to hear Rorschach yell “I’m not locked in here with you, you’re locked in here with me!” during a prison scuffle for example, it’s impossible to not cringe slightly at the same time, but it surely comes with the territory. By deconstructing (amongst other things) the superhero concept the way he has, Alan Moore’s Watchmen is a unique beast, and even though I’ve never put much stock in Zack Synder as a filmmaker before, he clearly has stepped up and proven that he is capable of handling the material. I wait anxiously for the director’s cut to make the film feel even more complete, as watching the movie, and especially during the second half, it becomes clear that Synder’s true vision has been cropped down with a few parts feeling not only rushed, but almost out of place. These are trivial flaws but a director’s cut will no doubt give an even fuller, more rewarding film experience.

The overall ideas and concept of Watchmen may have stemmed from Alan Moore’s book, making comparisons here unfair, but the film, as Zack Synder’s Watchmen, is a worthy achievement that seems to have done the impossible: something that can be enjoyed by those familiar with the source material and those that are not. It can be heavy going at times for someone expecting say, Ironman, but overall, it works despite probably not being as philosophical as it wants or deserves to be.

Film Review: Gran Torino (02-03-09)

Gran Torino's minimal story is certainly a relevant and emotional one, but the fact that the production seemed to be rushed so it to be ready and able to contend within the so-called 'awards season' exposures its flaws too greatly to be able to ignore them (which, when the dust settled, failed to garner any Oscar noms despite several other highly regarded nods leading up to them). Maybe I'm being too cynical about it all, but it felt like Oscar bait. Still, it was not the major reason why it failed to deliver for me the way the director's more recent output, such as Million Dollar Baby or Mystic River, didn't for example. It may have it's roots firmly stemming from a more independent film mindset, but that doesn't make it better. But then maybe those films shouldn't be compared with this, such a more personal exercise for Eastwood.

The film's title comes from the beloved car Walt Kowalski (Eastwood) owns as well as having his hands literally in it's production "back '72” at the Ford factory where he worked for fifty years. The grizzled Korean War veteran is now retired and finds that his not so glamorous neighbourhood has been infiltrated with disrespectful gang youths and Asian (Hmong) families he has more than a little trouble accepting live next door. Walt is a straight shooter, and his prejudice attitude defines his character. Coupled with the estranged relationship he has with his two sons and the recent death of his long time wife, he is now a lonely, angry man. He smokes and drinks constantly despite coughing up blood regularly, uses terms such as gook, slopes, spooks and zipper head to the recipient's faces and pulls his rifle on anybody spending too much uninvited time on his lawn.

As the film unfolds, Walt slowly breaks down his walls and after intervening in a tussle involving gang members and his neighbours he finds himself befriending the very people that he had no time for. Confirming this, he and Thao, a young man from his neighbour's family, form a skeletal, but invaluable father/son bond. However, gang members persist to harass Thao and his family with violence and intimidation. The film falters the most here as the structure and dialogue used to frame the initial story comes off as unrealistic and clichéd too often. Perhaps more experienced actors or a more authentic script may have helped fix these flaws, but when Walt's savage, racist barbs are what's keeping the audience's attention - both intentionally and unintentionally funny; it becomes clear something is missing. It is just not convincing enough and the first half of the film clunks along before the more emotional driven second redeems the story as best it can.

In short, the character of Walt is a thinly veiled Harry Callahan or Gunny Highway living out his twilight years, which makes it perfect fodder for Eastwood. Fans of the gruff exterior, straight talkin' cynical bastard he is famous for will have plenty to enjoy here. Indeed, it is a tailor made, obviously very personal film to the director, amplified by his passionate performance. It almost seems to be a closing chapter in many ways for those particular much-loved characters of his in that sense too. If it starred anybody but Clint, it could have been a much different film. As it stands, parts of it almost seems like caricature or parody because of it. This is a shame as the drama wants to be and deserves to be heavy going, but by the time the credits roll with Eastwood himself mouthing an ode to the car at the centre of it all, Gran Torino only really feels mildly moving despite saving it's most poignant and emotional moments for the excellent final act.

Film Review: Milk (23-01-09)

The centre piece of Gus Van Sant’s film Milk, is Harvey Milk himself; A forty year old gay man passionate about changing how his fellow citizens see his “people”, but at the same time unsatisfied with his current existence. Seizing the moment, Milk moves to San Francisco with his partner and sets up a camera shop. Seeing the place of his work and residence, Castro Street, become a growing hub for the gay community, as well as witnessing his friends beaten and killed whilst being ignored by the local police because of their lifestyle, Milk decides to try to make a difference. Eventually he and his team, along with the help of the community to which he finds himself the principal voice, create enough noise to have him elected into public office. As Harvey’s influence grows, so does disgust and confusion towards homosexuals in the San Francisco district and beyond.

The biopic of late has had a bit of resurgence thanks in part to the commercial success of films such as Ray, Walk the Line and The Aviator. All were decent films, but strictly on a mainstream appeal. The story of a celebrated gay rights activist’s last eight years alive is one that does not strike you as having as much conventional mainstream attraction, confirmed by it being very political in its chronicle and choosing not too show our central protagonist’s younger years for example. In the hands of curious, yet accomplished director Gus Van Sant however, the finished product, which resembles less a biopic of one man, than an account of a moment in time, is a film delivered in a way that it can be embraced by the broader audience, whilst retaining a bit of the director’s natural quirk.

To say Sean Penn inhabits the central role of Harvey Milk could almost be an understatement. The hardened performing veteran, with help from selective prosthetics, evolves into the personality with such ease and grace, you wouldn’t believe he was the same man behind a character such as the intimidating Jimmy Markum from 2003‘s Mystic River. Emile Hirsch and James Franco deserve mention for their equally passionate turns, but it is Josh Brolin as Milk’s political contemporary and eventual enemy, Dan White, who shines the most in the supporting roles. His portrayal is both subtle and unhinged. Plus it is an achievement provoking empathy over demonising someone who would be best described as ’the bad guy’ in a film.

Unique visual and sound editing helps the film greatly, giving it distinctive structure as we jump between Harvey documenting his thoughts on a tape recorder, to the actual events of the time. This device also helps distance Milk from being just another biopic. While it is still immensely watch able, the film is not without it‘s flaws. To be fair though, most of the concerns are unavoidable when working in such a genre, and being political by nature, Dustin Lance Black’s Oscar nominated screenplay still avoids getting bogged down with such jargon, allowing the emotion to filter in - although perhaps not enough to wholly satisfy. Overall, bringing such an important man and moment to life in what is seen as a medium more focused on entertaining than reporting, the combination of director, screenwriter and actor have given us the best we could have hoped for.