The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Review

Director: Francis Lawrence Writers: Simon Beaufoy, Michael deBruyn Studios: Lionsgate, Color Force Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks, Lenny Kravitz, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Jeffrey Wright, Stanley Tucci, Donald Sutherland Release Date (UK): 21 November 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 146 min

Like “Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope” before it, the first adaptation of Suzanne Collins’ dystopian “Hunger Games” book series had a heavy burden on its shoulders: the burden of having to set up its fantasy world and lay out its many rules. There was the wealthy and sickeningly opulent city of The Capitol, the twelve impoverished Districts whose citizens live in squalor down below, and the barbaric, Battle Royale-esque Hunger Games the Capitol uses to entertain itself and keep the dozen Districts in their place. Thankfully, also like “A New Hope,” Gary Ross’ YA sci-fi thriller managed to be a very good and very engaging movie as it carefully assembled its universe, flaunting exhilarating thrills, a gripping adventure and a courageous teen warrior in Jennifer Lawrence’s Katniss Everdeen.

But now that all that pesky brick-laying is out of the way, and now we know where we are in the future world of Panem, it’s time to delve deeper into the characters’ journey, introduce some twists and turns and really tell a full-blooded story free from the necessary world-building. As such, you can consider follow-up “Catching Fire” the “Empire Strikes Back” (or “The Capitol Strikes Back”) of the “Hunger Games” saga: a superior, more confident sequel to an already terrific movie which cranks up the emotional stakes and journeys further into the dark side.

Indeed, one of the reasons “Catching Fire” tops its predecessor is that its depiction of its totalitarian society is considerably darker and more brutal than last time round. In the first “Hunger Games,” the powers that be at the Capitol enforced their dominance by randomly selecting children from each district and dumping them inside an arena where they fought to the death until only one stood victorious. Now, fearing revolution, they’re plucking potential rebels from crowds and murdering them on-stage for all to see; in one of the film’s more harrowing scenes, a disobedient citizen is chained up in the street and has his bare back repeatedly lashed with a whip. Donald Sutherland’s cruel and conniving President Snow is not messing around: this is boldly brutish stuff for a tween-oriented popcorn flick, and it makes the Capitol all that more horrifyingly loathsome.

Sutherland’s increased screen-time also gives the Capitol’s oppressive evil more of a presence this time round; not just a faceless entity, it now has a prominent figure in President Snow, a sort of bearded, snowy-haired Emperor Palpatine, if you will. No longer lurking in the background, he’s front and centre, and he is bone-chilling. And there’s not just him: there’s also Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Plutarch Heavensbee (so immersive is the film that we don’t bat an eyelid when his name is first stated), the deviously charismatic new game maker. His conversations with President Snow in which they scheme their oppressive deeds are deliciously dark and carry surprising insight into how fascistic governments control their citizens through careful, calculated manipulation. All this from a tentpole blockbuster.

Yet in spite of their wickedest of efforts, the smell of revolution still hangs heavy in the air, thanks to the flaming symbol of hope that is Katniss Everdeen, the much-loved “girl on fire.” Last time we saw Katniss, she’d just survived and essentially defeated the 74th Hunger Games with fellow District 12 tribute Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), and President Snow isn’t vey happy with her: he’s adamant that she be killed and that her symbol of hope be stamped out, and fast. Katniss meanwhile has been undergoing symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder following the bloodbath in the arena, making her the second blockbuster hero this year to suffer from PTSD, after Tony Stark in “Iron Man 3.” Which begs the question: are movie heroes becoming more human and vulnerable, or is PTSD just the next big movie trend?

Katniss’ nightmares look set to continue as President Snow announces that for the 75th Hunger Games, victors from previous years will be competing against each other; in other words, Katniss and Peeta are to be plunged back into the arena once again and do battle with experienced killers. Here, the film runs the risk of repeating what has come before, but director Francis Lawrence (“I Am Legend”) keeps up the suspense and has a few exciting tricks up his sleeve — there’s one particularly alluring moment where a mysterious cloud of smoke descends silently through the dark of the woods like a killer in the night, revealed to be poisonous mist when Katniss curiously reaches out her hand and her skin begins to bubble and boil.

And of course it’s all guided along gloriously by Jennifer Lawrence, as is the rest of the movie and as was the first movie. Arguably the most gifted young actress working today (actually, after “Winter’s Bone,” “Silver Linings Playbook” and now this, that might be inarguable), Lawrence burns bright, her Katniss probably the best screen heroine since Ellen Ripley did battle with the Xenomorph in Ridley Scott’s “Alien.” Not just brave, intelligent and resourceful, she’s also identifiably human and endearingly reluctant in her feats of heroism; she never asked nor wanted to be a rebel fighter, but when the time comes to fight she’s a born survivor. All the while Lawrence brings to Katniss a strong, rock-solid screen presence, the kind Kristen Stewart — for all her moping and lip-chewing — could only dream of (sorry, Bella!).

I think I know why “The Hunger Games” clicks with me so much: partly it's because unlike “The Mortal Instruments” and “The Host” it’s absolutely 100% convincing in its world-building, partly it's because it has an abiding affection for and a firm belief in its central characters, but mostly I think it’s because Katniss is such a compelling character, and as wonderfully played by Lawrence, she’s a hero you can really root for. Before seeing the film, I’d heard that Collins’ book, unread by me, was disliked by many fans and that its transition to the screen would prove problematic. If that really is the case, then this might just be that rare occasion where a film adaptation outdoes its source material: this is a powerful piece of storytelling, delivering a multitude of shocks and thrills as it darkly depicts the monstrousness of totalitarianism, all while operating under the guise of popcorn escapism. Roll on “Mockingjay,” which, as is tradition, has been split into two separately released parts — like a squealing fanboy, I’m eagerly awaiting both.

Rating: 9/10

Parkland - Review

Director: Peter Landesman Writer: Peter Landesman Studios: Exclusive Media Group, American Film Company, Exclusive Media, Playtone Cast: Paul Giamatti, James Badge Dale, Billy Bob Thornton, Tom Welling, David Harbour, Zac Efron, Marcia Gay Harden Release Date (UK): 22 November 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 94 min

“Parkland” is a missed opportunity, the opportunity being to tell the story of the assassination of JFK in a way that is human. There’s great potential for that here: a historical ensemble piece, it looks at the assassination from the perspective of the seemingly insignificant supporting players it impacted, the ones who watched from the cheering crowds as President John F. Kennedy was shot dead and the ones who were listening to their radios and watching their TVs when they heard that their President had been murdered. Writer-director Peter Landesman’s film looks at a familiar story from an unfamiliar angle, which might’ve been more interesting if the usually glossed-over individuals on whom it shines a light weren’t still in wanting of some serious fleshing out.

The supporting players, here standing in the spotlight, are are such: Abraham Zapruder, whose much-scrutinised 8mm home movie of Kennedy’s motorcade passing by inadvertently captured the moment Kennedy was shot; the doctors and nurses who tried in vain to resuscitate Kennedy’s body at Parkland Memorial Hospital; the Secret Service chief in charge of protecting Kennedy; the two FBI agents who discovered they had the chance to catch shooter Lee Harvey Oswald and flubbed it; and Oswald’s older brother Robert, who on November 22nd, 1963 heard on the radio that his little brother had shot and killed the most important man in the world. For 90 minutes, we jump back and forth between their experiences throughout that dark day and the days that followed. The result is skilfully edited and shot with urgency by Barry Ackroyd, but as a drama it leaves much to be desired.

I went into “Parkland” thinking, “This’ll be interesting, I don’t know much about these people.” And you know what I thought when I came out of it? “I still don’t know that much about these people.” It’s well performed by the likes of Paul Giamatti, Billy Bob Thornton and James Badge Dale (each of whom give affecting performances while playing cardboard cut-outs), but Landesman fails to get underneath their characters’ skin and find what makes them tick. Zac Efron’s Dr. Carrico is particularly empty, Efron required only to look a bit dazed when Kennedy’s body is wheeled into the operating room and then upset when Kennedy flatlines.

Landesman’s script has insight, but not into who these people are/were, only into what they did. It all feels like a news report, ticking off all the important facts but struggling to wring out much compelling drama or suspense — I wasn’t too surprised to learn after viewing the film that Landesman was in fact a journalist. If one were wishing to commemorate Kennedy’s memory with a movie, Oliver Stone’s “JFK” would be a safer bet: it’s a full-blooded drama with real meat on its bones. By comparison, “Parkland” feels like a half-heated microwave dinner.

Rating: 5/10

The Family - Review

Director: Luc Besson Writers: Luc Besson, Michael Caleo Studios: EuropaCorp, Relativity Media, Malavita, Media Magik Entertainment Cast: Robert De Niro, Michelle Pfeiffer, Tommy Lee Jones, Dianna Agron, John D’Leo Release Date (UK): 22 November 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 111 min

Mobster comedy “The Family” might just contain the single biggest plot contrivance since Superman turned back time by flying around the world really fast. It comes halfway through the movie. Teenager Warren, in witness protection in a tiny French village after his ex-mobster family snitched on a Mafia boss, writes for a local competition a joke he once heard told by that same Mafia boss. The joke wins and is printed in the school paper. Soon after, the Mafia boss, stuck in a prison cell on the other side of the world, is handed a wine bottle. By sheer coincidence, this wine bottle was made in the same tiny French village that Warren and his family are hiding in. And wrapped around this wine bottle is, again by sheer coincidence, the same school paper containing the Mafia boss' joke. And what page does the Mafia boss turn to when he opens up the crumpled newspaper? Why of course, he turns to the page with the joke.

It sounds like the kind of tall tale Ray Liotta might’ve told in his narration for “Goodfellas,” only he might’ve sold it a little better. This could have been a deliberate nudge, but I don't think this movie's that smart. Directed by French action maestro Luc Besson, “The Family” is essentially both a parody of and love letter to Scorsese gangster movies, like “Goodfellas” and “Casino,” and Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather” trilogy. Starring in all three of those was Robert De Niro. And wouldn’t you know it, he stars in this too, once again playing a violent mobster type, alongside Michelle Pfeiffer, once again married to the mob.

They play former Mafia couple the Manzonis, renamed the Blakes and relocated with their two teenage kids from Brooklyn to a sleepy, picturesque town by the country in Normandy, France. Supervised by Tommy Lee Jones’ grumpy FBI Agent Stansfield, they live in hiding from the vengeful and incarcerated Don Luchese (Stan Carp) and his cronies, who search for the rats in the hopes of some payback. Advised to keep a low profile, the Blakes try to live a normal, peaceful life in their new European home. But old habits die hard, and soon enough there’s a body in the backyard, the plumber’s beaten to a pulp and the local supermarket is blown to smithereens.

All of which sounds pretty funny, so it’s a shame then that most of the fish-out-of-water gags fall about as flat as a snitch under a steamroller. This, in spite of the knockabout chemistry of the cast, in particular De Niro and Jones, whose quick-fire back-and-forth banter suggests that they might be great in a buddy movie together. Pfeiffer’s lotsa fun, sporting a thick-as-a-brick Brooklyn twang and stealing the show as a Mafioso ice queen with a heart of gold. De Niro’s also fun, but the thing is, he’s already pastiched his tough guy image twice before, first in “Analyse This” and then again in “Meet the Parents” —  actually, if you count their sequels, that’s five times. By now, the novelty of De Niro sticking his tongue out at himself has worn off a little (in fact, it may have worn off halfway through “Meet the Fockers”).

Towards the end the film descends into typical Besson action fare, with firefights and rocket launchers galore as the Don, surprise surprise, discovers the Manzonis’ location. But before that, the film makes a big mistake: as a meta joke, it plays for us, and also De Niro, the sound from the opening of “Goodfellas,” with Liotta’s narration taking over and that classic Tony Bennett hit “Rags to Riches” playing over multiple scenes. Here’s a word of advice: if you’re making a gangster movie in the vein of “Goodfellas,” don’t actually show footage from “Goodfellas” — you’re not gonna come out on top.

Rating: 5/10

The Counsellor - Review

Director: Ridley Scott Writer: Cormac McCarthy Studios: 20th Century Fox, Scott Free Productions, Nick Wechsler Productions, Chockstone Pictures Cast: Michael Fassbender, Penélope Cruz, Cameron Diaz, Javier Bardem, Brad Pitt Release Date (UK): 15 November 2013 Certificate: 18 Runtime: 117 min

How has this happened? “The Counsellor,” an adult crime thriller directed by Ridley Scott and penned by Cormac McCarthy, is not only not one of the best films of the year, it’s one of the worst. I’m stunned, I’m perplexed and I’m very confused. This cannot be: a film from the director of “Alien” and “Blade Runner” and the author of “No Country for Old Men” is one of the worst films of 2013. Once again I must ask, how has this happened?

I’ll tell you how: “The Counsellor” is the first screenplay written by McCarthy, a brilliant author who, as it turns out, isn’t very good at writing screenplays. In “The Counsellor,” his characters like to talk, and they like to talk a lot. Often when they talk, they are reciting lengthy, existential monologues in which they philosophise about greed, death and, bizarrely, the hunting habits of the jaguar, which seem to last for an eternity. The characters in this film don’t talk to each other: they spout riddles at each other. It’s all very pompous and it all feels like a McCarthy adaptation gone horribly awry — or, more damningly, Tarantino at his self-indulgent worst. I have no doubt McCarthy’s script read well on paper. On screen, it’s an endurance test.

The film has a very good cast — actually, a great cast. In the starring roles are such hot Hollywood items as Michael Fassbender, Penélope Cruz, Javier Bardem, Cameron Diaz and Brad Pitt. A fantastic ensemble, I’m sure you’ll agree. Trouble is, they’re wasted on characters who are for the most part insipid and unlikeable, and we are given precious little insight into their lives or their motivations. They barely register as living, breathing human beings — rather, they’re walking, talking riddle machines.

The film is set in the dark and dangerous world of cross-border drug trafficking. Fassbender plays a man known only as The Counsellor, to whom we are introduced as he burrows his face between Cruz’s legs (classy, Fassy!). The Counsellor wishes to take part in a drug deal, a one-time operation to earn him some money for an unmentioned reason, though early on we see him eyeing a precious diamond. He approaches Pitt’s swaggering cowboy middleman Westray, who warns him that the consequences of failure will be fatal, and brutally so. The Counsellor’s loving, naive fiancée, played by Cruz, is oblivious to the deal.

As is always the case in movies like this, the deal goes bad (though it's not The Counsellor's fault — it's just a horrible coincidence), and some nasty drug cartels come looking for The Counsellor and his fiancée — and they, unlike every other character in the film, aren’t looking to talk. I apologise if I’m making all this sound more exciting than it really is; really, it’s quite boring, plodding lifelessly from scene to scene with little pace, even less coherence and a lot of pretension. Oh, and talking. Lots of talking.

There are two major players in this story who add a few sprinkles of flavour to a dry mix. They are the spicily charismatic drug kingpin Reiner and his conniving girlfriend Malkina, and they are played by Bardem and Diaz. Diaz just oozes raw sex in a performance that's diabolically wicked, while Bardem, clad in a face-melting butterfly-patterned shirt, is as flamboyantly outlandish as his electrified haircut. Together, they take part in a scene that, just a couple of weeks after the film's US release, has already become notorious — it is a scene in which Diaz slips off her panties, mounts the hood of a Ferrari, does the splits and proceeds to dry-hump the windshield. Once again, I must apologise for making this sound more exciting than it really is (though this scene is the most enjoyable in the film, if only for Bardem’s inspired remark that Diaz’s pancaked nether regions resemble “one of those bottom-feeders you see going up the side of an aquarium... sucking its way up the glass”).

I’ll commend “The Counsellor” for being a properly adult thriller that’s bold, daring and different. I will not, however, commend it for being a load of twaddle. After 100 minutes of failing to entertain, grip or thrill (the Ferrari fucking aside), the film comes to a depressingly bleak and nihilistically unpleasant finish which finally plunged me into misery. Perhaps that was the point, though I’m not entirely certain and frankly, by this point in the film, I’d stopped caring. Maybe McCarthy could have spun a great novel out of this story; he certainly hasn’t spun a great movie out of it.

Rating: 4/10

The Butler - Review

Director: Lee Daniels Writer: Danny Strong Studios: The Weinstein Company, ShowmakerWorks Pictures, Laura Ziskin Productions, Windy Hill Pictures Cast: Forest Whitaker, Oprah Winfrey, David Oyelowo Release Date (UK): 15 November 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 132 min

The previous movie from prestigious master of excess Lee Daniels, namely the polarising 2012 Cannes splash “The Paperboy,” was a most bizarre and rather intoxicating concoction, a thick blend of blood, sweat and Floridian swamp gunk. Relatively speaking, his latest movie, the newly released supposed Oscar candidate “The Butler,” is a much more conventional affair, but in its own little way it too is rather strange, if ironically for reasons that are altogether more unconventional (“The Paperboy” being more conventionally weird, most notably thanks to an already infamous scene in which Nicole Kidman pisses on Zac Efron’s face).

“The Butler” is strange in the sense that it wishes to be two different movies with two different ambitions: on the one hand, it wishes to be a gentle, warm-hearted story about a White House butler, played by Forest Whitaker, who watches his country change around him as he serves seven US presidents, from Dwight D. Eisenhower to Ronald Reagan — the sort of light, Academy-friendly film that’ll play well on a wet Sunday afternoon. On the other hand, it also wishes to be a hard-hitting history lesson exposing the grim and violent realities faced by backers of the civil rights movement, as seen through the eyes of the butler’s political activist son, played by David Oyelowo. The mix is a peculiar and uneven one but not without charm as Daniels and screenwriter Danny Strong explore the entirety of the turbulent African American experience in the 20th century through the lives of and tension between a butler and his son.

The film, as it so proudly states in its opening, is inspired by a true story, that of former White House butler Eugene Allen, who served eight, rather than seven, American presidents over the course of 34 years. Here, his name has been changed to Cecil Gaines and his story has been tinkered with, fictionalised for dramatic purposes. For example, the film begins with a young Cecil working in a Macon cotton field in 1926 when the white landowner, played by Alex Pettyfer, rapes his mother and murders his father. It’s a powerful scene, but one that has been made up for the movie — Allen grew up on a cotton field in Virginia, not Georgia, and he did not watch his mother being raped nor his father being murdered.

In his teens, Cecil learns the fine art of serving white folks, waits tables at a swanky hotel in Washington D.C. and in 1957 lands a job at the White House as a butler. Here, for over three decades, Cecil serves cookies and slices of toast and stands silently in the corner while the President discusses pressing issues concerning the rights of African Americans. Sometimes he gets to speak with the President about these issues, and sometimes his words have an influence on the course of history. As happens when Cecil has a brief conversation with Eisenhower, played by a bald-capped Robin Williams, about his son attending an “all-coloured” school, after which Eisenhower feels compelled to enforce racial integration in a Little Rock high school.

This happens time and time again throughout the movie: walking into the Oval Office with a tea tray in hand, Cecil witnesses first-hand pretty much every significant political decision concerning civil rights. You can practically see Daniels and Strong sticking a flagpole in each of the relevant historical events and then planning out how to get Cecil to reach each point and how he will effect or be effected by them. These parts of the film are essentially “Forrest Gump” in the White House, only without that film’s jokey sense of humour about its various historical contrivances but instead with a treacly sincerity.

These scenes are also marred by a series of increasingly silly cameos by Hollywood stars who come in one by one latexed up as the various Presidents of the United States — Williams as Eisenhower, James Marsden as wonder boy JFK, Liev Schreiber barking orders from the toilet as Lyndon B. Johnson, John Cusack as the ever-perspiring Tricky Dick and Alan Rickman as a barely human Ronald Reagan (but curiously no Ford or Carter). Smothered in prosthetics and looking like they’ve turned up to a fancy dress party, their caricature performances threaten to undo what drama is present in these scenes (though Marsden’s JFK impersonation is spot-on).

I found myself more interested in the more intimate moments at the Gaines household, with Oprah Winfrey sublime as Cecil’s long-suffering wife Gloria, and the sub-plot focused on Cecil’s fiercely liberal teenage son Louis, who, against the wishes of his father, heads down south to fight for racial equality. From the latter, Daniels wrings a handful of very effective and emotionally powerful scenes: e.g. a peaceful sit-in at a segregated Nashville diner which turns sickeningly violent and another scene in which Louis and his friends are viciously attacked by Ku Klux Klan members while travelling on a bus to Alabama.

These are shocking scenes, made more so by the fact that the events they depict really did happen 50 years ago (only here with the fictional Louis dropped in; apparently he was by Martin Luther King’s side in his hotel room right before he was shot dead). Comparatively, the scenes at 1600 Penn, which make up the bulk of the movie, seem awfully tame and lacking in a certain dramatic heft. Carried along by Whitaker’s wise and restrained performance and not much else, they feel a little empty, much as Rodrigo Leao’s sweeping, triumphant score tries to convince us otherwise.

I did like “The Butler:” its message of fighting for your rights is inspiring, it’s elegantly directed by Daniels and the performances of Whitaker, Winfrey and Oyelowo are very fine indeed. But after the trashy, unhinged melodrama of “The Paperboy” and the harsh, emotional rawness of “Precious,” this does seem like awfully safe territory for Daniels, too schmaltzy for its subject matter and, if I may be so blunt, quite Oscar-baity. Indeed, it has travelled across the US and now the UK accompanied with Winfrey singing its praises, a tactic which may well catch the Academy’s attention. Hopefully it does for the film’s performances, but as for the film itself, I’ve heard that a certain Steve McQueen drama also about African American hardships is more deserving of attention.

Rating: 6/10

Ender's Game - Review

Director: Gavin Hood Writer: Gavin Hood Studios: Summit Entertainment, Lionsgate, Chartoff Productions, Taleswapper, OddLot Entertainment, K/O Paper Products, Digital Domain Cast: Asa Butterfield, Harrison Ford, Ben Kingsley, Viola Davis, Hailee Steinfeld, Abigail Breslin Release Date (UK): October 25 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 114 min

“Ender’s Game,” based on the ‘80s bestseller by Orson Scott Card, is a YA adaptation that’s ballsy enough to tackle dark, complex themes such as the moralities of war, the values of pacifism and the dehumanisation of simulated violence, all the while providing the expected sci-fi spectacle and dazzling special effects. Think of it as “Starship Troopers" for kids: written and directed by Gavin Hood (who previously directed “Tsotsi” and “X-Men Origins: Wolverine,” but let’s focus on “Tsotsi”), it imagines a future world under threat of invasion from a bug-like alien race known as the Formics. Asa Butterfield, a talented British up-and-comer, plays Ender Wiggin, a preteen brainbox chosen for a military program in which the world’s smartest children are trained in preparation for war with the Formics.

Blasted into space, Ender is sent to Battle School, where he is tasked with taking part in a competitive, zero-gravity game with his fellow recruits (it’s basically Quidditch with laser guns) and running hi-tech simulations in which he must scheme to defeat the alien menace. All the while, he’s watched over by Harrison Ford’s grizzled Colonel Graff, who sees hope in Ender and has a few tricks up his sleeve to test his extraordinary tactical skills. Along the way, we’re treated with pleasing visual effects, a terrific leading performance from Butterfield and the remarkable sight of Sir Ben Kingsley with full-on face tats.

“Ender’s Game” is never as exciting or suspenseful as it could be, but it is interesting and surprisingly thoughtful, certainly more so than is expected of this sort of teen-oriented, special effects blockbuster. In a year in which we got “The Mortal Instruments” and “The Host,” this is refreshingly mature and intelligent, boasting big ideas and following most of them through. If Lionsgate and Summit Entertainment are looking to kickstart their next big franchise, this is a solid start, though as I’m unfamiliar with Card’s book series, I’m curious as to where the story will go from here.

Rating: 7/10

Thor: The Dark World - Review

Director: Alan Taylor Writers: Christopher Yost, Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely Studios: Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures Cast: Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman, Tom Hiddleston, Anthony Hopkins, Stellan Skarsgård, Idris Elba, Christopher Ecclestone Release Date (UK): 30 October 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 112 min

I think it’s fair to say that phase two of Marvel’s cinematic universe of superheroes got off to a pretty triumphant start with “Iron Man 3:” spectacular, funny and exhilarating, it bettered its two predecessors, deservedly bagged over a billion dollars worldwide and in terms of pure, popcorn entertainment value, damn near gave “The Avengers” a run for its money (and given that film’s box office takings, that’s a lotta dough). Now phase two continues with “Thor: The Dark World,” the second solo outing for Chris Hemsworth’s hunky, hammer-flinging god of thunder, and while it’s not the runaway success that was Mr. Tony Stark’s third solo adventure, it contains enough fantasy action, winning humour and big, meaty surprises to help keep Marvel geeks thoroughly happy (or should that be thor-oughly happy? No, no it shouldn’t).

What’s immediately clear is that Marvel have upped the scale for this second trip through the now-repaired Bifröst portal: the opulent realm of Asgard has been greatly expanded upon, with actual civilians wandering about and the grand kingdom looking much fuller and more grandiose than last time round; we get to see more of the oft-mentioned Nine Realms, with an early visit to Vanaheim as Thor battles marauders and later a trip to the deserted (and seemingly unpronounceable) Svartalfheim, where the Dark Elves and their Kursed warriors roam; meanwhile, down on Earth, we’re treated not with the first film’s small, dusty town of Nowhere, New Mexico, but with the city of London, chock-full of recognisable monuments all ripe for destruction.

There’s more action too, which “Game of Thrones” helmer Alan Taylor handles efficiently and thankfully without “Thor” director Kenneth Branagh’s overuse of Dutch tilts, which proved nauseating in 3D. The special effects set pieces are noticeably bigger: a full-on aerial assault on Asgard by the Dark Elves is an early example, massive in scale, ridiculously overblown and allowing for Idris Elba’s gatekeeper Heimdall to kick some serious elf butt.

Even the story’s more epic, focusing not on close-knit, Shakespearian family drama but on an imminent, universe-wide apocalypse. In an exposition-heavy prologue, we are introduced to Christopher Eccleston’s vengeful Dark Elf ruler Malekith, who seeks the Aether, a weapon with the ability to turn matter into dark matter and the power to plunge our universe into infinite darkness. Unfortunately for Thor’s Earthling squeeze Jane Foster (Natalie Portman, given a bigger role here), the Aether has attached itself to her body, and Malekith and his army have come to take it back. Eccleston, unrecognisable under heavy elf make-up, gives it his all, but unfortunately his villain rings a little hollow; in spite of his deep, commanding voice, his unsightly facial features and proclamations that he is a creature of pure evil, he’s a largely unintimidating villain, too one-dimensional, posing no physical threat and wielding murky motivations.

He’s a far cry from Tom Hiddleston’s grinning, deviously wicked Loki, who here has been condemned to an eternity of imprisonment in the dungeons of Asgard for his crimes on Earth — namely trying to take over our puny planet in the climax of “The Avengers.” When Thor needs help to escape a ruined Asgard, he calls on Loki, who is more than willing to oblige. As in Branagh’s first movie, it’s the love-hate dynamic between Thor and Loki that proves this sequel’s most valuable asset, here shaken up as the two brothers work side-by-side rather than battling toe-to-toe. It’s funny: Marvel spend so much time trying to make this bigger and more epic than the first film and what it all comes down to is the same exact thing — the troubled relationship between Thor and his little adoptive brother Loki. And as always, Hiddleston’s stealing the show.

Of course, everything comes to a head in a grand, action-packed climax in which poor Greenwich gets bashed to bits and in which Thor, rather hilariously, takes a ride on the London Underground. Full of invisible, intergalactic wormholes and featuring a giant invading spaceship, it’s a spectacular, apocalyptic and surprisingly funny finale that’s just about exciting enough to make you forget about some of the film’s weaker elements — i.e. plot contrivances, the empty villain and a throwaway “end of the world” plot. Still, in its better moments, “Thor: The Dark World” is fantastic fun sure to satisfy its fanbase, and I’ll happily admit that during a certain cameo from a certain someone (I won’t say who) I *might* have squeed a little — when you see it, you’ll know. As always, stay through the end credits for a couple of neat stingers, including (spoiler alert!) a cool little tease for James Gunn’s upcoming Marvel outing “Guardians of the Galaxy.” Squee!

Rating: 7/10

Carrie - Review

Director: Kimberly Peirce Writers: Lawrence D. Cohen, Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa Studios: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Screen Gems, Misher Films Stars: Chloë Grace Moretz, Judy Greer, Portia Doubleday, Alex Russell, Gabriella Wilde, Julianne Moore Release Date (UK): 29 November 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 99 min

Brian De Palma’s themes of the pains of puberty and the journey into womanhood still resonate over 35 years later in Kimberly Peirce’s “Carrie,” a slicker, modern-day update of the 1976 horror classic, both adapted from Stephen King’s debut novel from 1974. Starring Chloë Grace Moretz as the titular telekinetic teen once iconically played by Sissy Spacek, it retells the tragic tale of troubled high schooler Carrie White, a social outcast who exacts bloody revenge against her teen tormentors when their bullying goes one trot too far.

Following De Palma’s original pretty much step by step, Peirce’s “Carrie” lacks the element of surprise that helped make De Palma’s movie so shocking back in ‘76: Peirce recreates the narrative of and whole scenes from the De Palma version with little variation outside of modernising the dialogue and updating the technology. But Peirce manages to squeeze out a fair bit of effective suspense from the recreated build-up, as Carrie lives under the thumb of her abusive, bible-thumping mother (Julianne Moore, hammy but scary), discovers her amazing ability to move objects with her mind and as her tormentors plot her final, fateful humiliation.

All of which is carried (geddit?) on the shoulders of 16-year-old Moretz, a supremely talented young actress who in “Kick-Ass” and “Let Me In” displayed a knack for handling roles more complex and mature than are expected for her age range. Complaints that Moretz is miscast, of which there were many when news of her casting first broke out, are unfounded: though without the gaunt, freckle-faced figure that gave the sublime Spacek a certain otherworldly quality, Moretz does a terrific job in inhabiting Carrie’s shy, introverted awkwardness, her endearing naivete, her bewilderment over and later embracing of her newfound powers and then in the film’s final movements her demonic, unbridled rage.

As for Peirce’s extravagant restaging of the infamous prom night finale, with the bucket of pig’s blood hanging ominously above the stage, it’s let down by an over-reliance on pesky CGI but still packs both an emotional and visceral punch. And Peirce smartly, teasingly side-steps that darkly comic final punchline, knowing fully well that much as you try, you just can’t top the original (unless you’re a Carpenter or Cronenberg).

Rating: 6/10