Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Review

Directors: Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller Writers: Frank Miller Studios: Dimension Films, Troublemaker Studios, Aldamisa Entertainment, Miramax Entertainment, Demarest Films, Solipsist Films Cast: Mickey Rourke, Jessica Alba, Josh Brolin, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Rosario Dawson, Bruce Willis, Eva Green, Powers Boothe, Dennis Haysbert, Ray Liotta, Jaime King, Christopher Lloyd, Jamie Chung, Jeremy Piven, Christopher Meloni, Juno Temple Release Date (UK): 25 August, 2014 Certificate: 18 Runtime: 102 min

Creamy white blood splattering through the night air. Gun-toting prostitutes in bondage gear prowling the streets of Old Town. Shoulder to shoulder drunks drooling over the dancer Nancy at Kadie’s Saloon. And the big brute Marv growling about his “condition” -- right before crushing some punk’s throat with the heel of his boot.

Welcome back to Sin City. It’s been a while: it’s been damn near a decade, in fact, since Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller’s 2005 neo-noir first burst onto cinema screens in all its twisted, sleazy and hyper-stylised glory. And after year upon year of delay upon delay, a sequel is finally here. So I guess the question is, was follow-up “Sin City: A Dame to Kill For” really worth the 9-year wait? In truth, not entirely: back in the directors’ chairs, Rodriguez and Miller essentially present us with more of the same, but not as good -- hardly surprising for a sequel, but after 9 years, it is difficult not to expect, and indeed hope for, something more. And yet, speaking as a big fan of both the first film and the original comic series (and as someone who may or may not own the entire set of “Sin City” action figures, bought from his local Forbidden Planet), it is, I have to admit, quite thrilling to be thrust back into this comic book world full of anti-heroes, femme fatales, crooked cops and limb-lopping ninja hookers once again -- even if it is a clear-cut case of diminishing returns.

Visually, the film is a striking, electrifying joy. It oozes raw style, with its select splashes of colour against stark monochrome, its noirish shadows and white-against-black silhouettes, its splattering bodily fluids, its CG backdrops, and its ragdoll, Looney Tunes physics. If one were to be magically transported into the panels of Miller’s original comics, this is exactly what it would look like: many of Rodriguez’s compositions are even taken straight from those panels. Of course, we saw all this in the first film, so the element of surprise in regards to its outlandish visual aesthetic has long since passed. But there’s still a pulpy verve to it, as well as a delightfully depraved sense of humour to its OTT violence -- though a moment where an unconscious character has his eyeball viciously torn out rang a little needlessly cruel and sadistic for my taste.

As in the first film, we are presented with three standalone, occasionally intertwining stories, plus one mini story. The mini story, based on Miller’s “Just Another Saturday Night,” kicks off proceedings in an unashamedly nutty fashion, with Mickey Rourke’s street thug Marv waking up on the highway, surrounded by a bunch of dead men and a crashed police car, and trying to figure out what happened that night. It’s a wickedly fun little short with a punchline that perfectly sums up Sin City as a place packed full of stories, as Marv looks down at his gloves and growls to himself that he has no idea where he got them from. The title story, based on the second of Miller’s graphic novel series, sees Josh Brolin’s tabloid photographer Dwight (previously played by Clive Owen) receiving a desperate cry for help from his ex, Eva Green’s Ava Lord, who fears for her life. Vowing to save her from her seemingly abusive husband, the multimillionaire tycoon Damian Lord (Marton Csokas), Dwight discovers too late that not all is as it seems.

The other two stories are both originals, not based on comics but written by Miller for the film. The first of them, titled “The Long Bad Night,” stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Johnny, a cocky young gambler who enters a backroom game of poker with the menacing and corrupt Senator Roark (Powers Boothe). After draining Roark, Johnny discovers that his opponent is one hell of a sore loser and finds his life in imminent danger. The second original story, titled “Nancy’s Last Dance,” continues the tale of Jessica Alba’s Nancy, who’s gone mad since her one love, Bruce Willis’ Hartigan, blew his brains out to protect her from Roark. Haunted by visions of Hartigan and turning to drink, she plots revenge against Roark, making regular visits to the shooting range and getting closer and closer to pulling that trigger.

Of the three main stories, “A Dame to Kill For” is the strongest, and it’s the strongest for one reason: Eva Green. As Ava, Green is the ultimate femme fatale: sultry, deadly and irresistibly bewitching, she’s a manipulative, man-devouring goddess, and Green’s hamming it up in spectacular fashion. Earlier this year, she was the best thing in “300: Rise of an Empire;” she’s the best thing here too, and every moment she’s on screen she elevates proceedings to a whole new level. For “The Long Bad Night,” Rodriguez and Miller make the odd decision to stop the story halfway through and continue it later on, a tactic which worked well with “That Yellow Bastard” in the first film, but then that was a big, meaty yarn which spanned eight years; “The Long Bad Night” is very slight in comparison, and the split makes it feel even more slight. And the shock revelation concerning Johnny and Roark’s relationship falls flat on its face. Still, Gordon-Levitt carries it with his suave charisma, playing Johnny with a man-about-town swagger worthy of Frank Sinatra, and Christopher Lloyd has an amusing cameo as a heroin-shooting doc. As for “Nancy’s Last Dance,” it’s interesting seeing the harsh blow Hartigan’s suicide had on Nancy, and seeing her transform from the first film’s damsel in distress into a badass killer is certainly fun, but the story as a whole feels too brief, and the big finale doesn’t have the emotional punch it should have.

Though each story is enjoyably pulpy, none of them are nearly as engrossing as “The Hard Goodbye,” “The Big Fat Kill” or “That Yellow Bastard.” There’s a reason Rodriguez chose those stories for the first film: they’re the best and most full-blooded in the whole series. And because “A Dame to Kill For”’s storytelling isn’t as strong or engaging as the first film’s, it too often feels like empty style. But what style! It genuinely feels like you’re walking inside the panels of Miller’s comics, which, for a fan of the comics, is alone worth the price of admission. If you’re going to see the film (and you’d be one of the few, judging by the box office figures), see it for the stylish visuals, the pulpy verve and Eva Green’s magnificent performance -- combined, they’re almost everything a “Sin City” movie should be; it’s just a shame that the stories themselves are rather lacking. It should be stressed, by the way, for those worried, that this is absolutely nowhere near as bad as the Frank Miller-directed “The Spirit;” though to be honest, few things are as bad as the Frank Miller-directed “The Spirit.”

Rating: 7/10

Into the Storm - Review

Director: Steven Quale Writer: John Swetnam Studios: Warner Bros. Pictures, Broken Road Productions, New Line Cinema, Village Roadshow Pictures Cast: Richard Armitage, Sarah Wayne Callies, Matt Walsh, Alycia Debnam-Carey, Arlen Escarpeta Release Date (UK): 20 August, 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 89 min

“Into the Storm” has lots of great big, swirling, town-flattening tornado effects, but not much else going for it. Its characters, who in the small town of Silverton find themselves at the mercy of an unprecedented onslaught of massive-scale whirlwinds, are uninteresting and forgettable, a borenado of empty stereotypes and cliches: there’s a group of unstoppably stubborn storm chasers, a shy teenage boy and his stern, workaholic dad, the shy teenage boy’s love interest with whom he inevitably becomes trapped until dad comes to the rescue, and of course a pair of comic-relief hillbillies. Its script is dumb and without wit or imagination, and it’s never quite risible enough to be enjoyed ironically. As for the shaky-cam, found-footage gimmick, it’s been used for no discernible purpose: director Steven Quale fails to take advantage of it in any way, shape or form, and it’s constantly undermined by random cuts to regular old third-person shots.

Basically, the only thing worth watching in the whole film are those effects, which to their credit are spectacularly destructive -- there’s a great sequence in which a bunch of grounded jumbo jets caught in the path of a gargantuan super tornado are lifted up into the air like dandelion seeds floating away in the breeze (a shot understandably used in all the trailers and TV spots). But giving a hoot about anything other than the VFX, and indeed feeling involved in the story, ultimately proves difficult when our heroes are such dull bores. My advice: if you’re looking for some thrilling tornado mayhem, watch “Twister” instead. It’s not what I’d call a great film, but it has a sense of humour about its own ridiculousness, and its characters and story are much more engaging than what we’re presented with here. Plus, it has Bill Paxton and a flying cow, both always a plus.

Rating: 4/10

Deliver Us From Evil - Review

Director: Scott Derrickson Writers: Scott Derrickson, Paul Harris Boardman Studios: Screen Gems, Jerry Bruckheimer Films Cast: Eric Bana, Édgar Ramirez, Olivia Munn, Sean Harris, Joel McHale Release Date (UK): 22 August, 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 118 min

In “Deliver Us From Evil,” what starts off as an intriguing mix of a gritty, urban police procedural and a supernatural horror soon descends into a boringly typical succession of routine bumps in the night and well-worn demonic possession cliches. Inspired by the accounts of a real-life NYPD sergeant, it stars Eric Bana as cynical New York cop Ralph Sarchie, whose paranormal skepticism is called into question following a series of freaky, seemingly inexplicable investigations. When a rugged, unconventional priest (Édgar Ramirez) convinces him that the cases are demonically related, they join forces to defeat the evil, which begins to target Sarchie’s family and his mind.

Director Scott Derrickson does good in cooking up an eerie sense of dread as Bana wanders through dark hallways, armed with a flickering flashlight and being startled by felines of varying sizes (at one point a little pussycat, at another point a zoo lion). But the resulting scares, though reportedly based in truth, are so lacking in originality they’re more likely to elicit yawns than shrieks, and the big mystery surrounding the ghostly goings-on is uninteresting and largely incoherent. In his previous horror movies, Derrickson has shown an interest in asking thoughtful questions about morality and religion, as he did in “The Exorcism of Emily Rose,” as well as executing simple but effective spook house thrills, as he did in “Sinister.” “Deliver Us From Evil” sadly has very little of those, though as a blending of the crime and horror genres it’s not without interest.

Inevitably, it ends with the kind of exorcism scene we’ve seen a thousand times before, with a screaming match between a priest reciting Bible verses and a thrashing demonic entity. The only difference between this and most other exorcism scenes is that instead of a bedroom or a barn, this is set in a police interrogation room; I did laugh when the camera pans to an onlooker staring through the one-way mirror in bewilderment. In this scene, Bana and Ramirez prove themselves a good team-up: the brawny Bronx cop and the devout Hispanic priest. I wouldn’t mind seeing a sequel where they do further battle with the forces of evil together, though the forces of evil would have to be much more interesting than they are here.

Rating: 5/10

The Congress - Review

Director: Ari Folman Writer: Ari Folman Studio: Drafthouse Films Cast: Robin Wright, Danny Huston, Harvey Keitel, Jon Hamm, Paul Giamatti, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Sami Gayle Release Date (UK): 15 August, 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 123 min

Ari Folman’s bold and ambitious but flawed vision of the future as seen in “The Congress” is a vision of two halves. The first half sees Robin Wright, star of such films as “The Princess Bride” and “Forrest Gump,” playing Robin Wright, star of such films as “The Princess Bride” and “Forrest Gump.” Only here, in an alternative present, she’s a little more washed up than in our reality: introduced as her agent, played by Harvey Keitel, chastises her poor career choices and difficult attitude, she’s out of work with no one willing to offer her a role. Jeff Green (Danny Huston), the slithering bigwig of the mischievously named Miramount Studios, gives her an offer: in exchange for a hefty sum, her body will be scanned, and her image, her voice, her emotions, and her very being will be uploaded into a computer system, to be used to star in any film they choose. The catch is that while the computer-generated Robin Wright stars in everything from sci-fi blockbusters to Oscar contenders, the real Robin Wright is not allowed to act in anything again for the rest of her life.

The second half sends us 20 years into the future, where an older Wright takes a drug and enters a strange cartoon world, a 2D-animated, psychedelic, pop culture dreamscape where people are not so much people as fantasy avatars. Take a stroll through this hand-drawn gallery of famous faces and you will see such surreal sights as the jackal-headed Egyptian god Anubis walking the streets alongside Elvis Presley and Queen Elizabeth I, a Tom Cruise caricature who’s nothing but a pair of sunglasses and a toothy grin, and Ron Jeremy motorboating Marilyn Monroe. This world, it transpires, is an illusory escape from the bleakness of reality, where many are starving and living in horrible poverty. The people of the future are given a choice: await death or hallucinate something better. Understandably, most choose the hallucination -- and who can blame them when Michael Jackson is serving up lobsters?

I’m not certain that these two halves fit together very well: the film begins as a scathing take-down of the Hollywood system and the soulless direction it’s supposedly headed, then once the animation kicks in, it suddenly shifts gears to a commentary on such topics as the inequality gap, dictatorships, celebrities as products, and the American healthcare system. Combined, they make for a film whose themes are rich but jumbled and whose structure is uneven. Individually, however, they’re fascinating. The second half, in particular, is enthrallingly berserk, an absorbing, kaleidoscopic head trip that’s crudely drawn yet has a fluid, luscious beauty. The first half is also absorbing, a sharp, subtly sci-fi inflected big-studio satire well performed by Wright, Huston, and Keitel, who together make up the three pillars of Hollywood: the actor, the studio, and the agent in between. For a follow-up to “Waltz with Bashir,” Folman’s animated documentary about his experiences as an Israeli infantry soldier, “The Congress” is certainly unexpected, though like it, it shows him as an innovative director with a vision that’s unique, uncompromising, and well worth a watch.

Rating: 7/10

Lucy - Review

Director: Luc Besson Writer: Luc Besson Studios: Universal Pictures, Canal+, Cine+, EuropaCorp, TF1 Films Production Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Morgan Freeman, Amr Waked, Choi Min-sik Release Date (UK): 22 August, 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 89 min

“Lucy” is an action movie with real style, verve and high-concept silliness. It works more than it doesn’t, though I wish it didn’t fall victim to so many genre trappings. Its concept sees Scarlett Johansson gaining superhuman abilities as she gradually unlocks the full potential of her brain capacity. This concept is based in bogus science -- that disproved theory that humans only use 10% of their brains -- but for the purposes of the plot, we’ll just have to swallow it. At least Morgan Freeman’s wise, all-knowing exposition is there to make it go down smoothly.

The film is written and directed by French action maestro Luc Besson, who gives it a propulsive flow and the kind of knowingly goofy vibe you’d expect from the guy who made “The Fifth Element.” Johansson is Lucy, a young American woman living and studying in Taiwan who is tricked into being a drug mule and ends up with a strange, blue synthetic drug sewn into her abdomen. The drug, called CPH4, has the ability to increase the user’s brain activity to superhuman levels -- it’s similar to the pills Bradley Cooper popped in “Limitless,” though it’s much more powerful, and it really lives up to that title. Whilst in captivity, she’s kicked in the stomach, resulting in the CPH4 leaking into her system. Soon enough, her intelligence is rapidly increasing, her senses are bursting through the evolutionary roof, and she’s gaining psychic powers which allow her to control the elements around her.

Throughout the film, the level of brain capacity Lucy has activated flashes onto the screen -- 20%, 30%, 40%, etc. -- as she becomes more and more powerful and nears what we can only assume is a state of omnipresent godliness. Johansson is tasked with playing a sympathetically frightened everywoman, a badass action heroine, and a supreme, almighty being -- she nails all three, and remains in complete command throughout. And as Lucy gets closer and closer to 100%, and her pains, fears and desires whither away, Johansson still manages to elicit flickers of humanity through her steely coolness. She and Besson make for an entertaining team-up, and her Lucy is a welcome addition to the list of tough woman warriors in Besson movies, alongside Anne Parillaud’s Nikita, Natalie Portman’s Mathilda, and Milla Jovovich’s Leeloo.

Besson, of course, can’t resist the urge to fill the film with mindless, high-velocity gunfights and car chases, which, some nifty effects aside, are a little routine considering the potential of the premise. Still, the majority of the film is appealingly absurd, and in the end it comes to a finale that’s daringly, refreshingly outlandish. And despite Besson’s philosophical musings and pseudo-scientific hypotheses, the film isn’t really trying to be anything more than a trippy thrill-ride -- in that sense, it’s a solid success. Johansson’s been on a roll recently, with “Her” one of the best movies of last year and “Under the Skin” one of the best of this year. “Lucy” isn’t on quite the same par as either of those movies, but like them, it shows that despite her status as a smoldering Hollywood sex symbol, she picks her projects with a bold adventurousness.

Rating: 7/10

The Expendables 3 - Review

Director: Patrick Hughes Writers: Creighton Rothenberger, Katrin Benedikt, Sylvester Stallone Studios: Lionsgate, Nu Image, Millennium Films Cast: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Antonio Banderas, Jet Li, Wesley Snipes, Dolph Lundgren, Kelsey Grammer, Randy Couture, Terry Crews, Kellan Lutz, Ronda Rousey, Glen Powell, Victor Ortiz, Robert Davi, Mel Gibson, Harrison Ford, Arnold Schwarzenegger Release Date (UK): 14 August, 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 126 min

Three movies in, and the “Expendables” franchise is starting to have a serious overcrowding problem. Apparently discontent with the already mile-high pile of beefcakes stacked up in “The Expendables 2,” series overlord Sylvester Stallone has stacked it even higher for “The Expendables 3,” and the pile’s beginning to wobble. The newbies are as follows: Wesley Snipes, Antonio Banderas, Kellan Lutz, Ronda Rousey, Glen Powell and Victor Ortiz make up the new Expendables recruits, Kelsey Grammer plays an old Expendables ally, Harrison Ford replaces money-grubber Bruce Willis as the CIA boss, and Mel Gibson is the villain. Add that entire bunch to the original Expendables -- all seven of them -- and you’ve got yourself one hell of a busy crowd. Which is not to say that a cast of this size can’t be done justice; Bryan Singer proved it possible earlier this year with his superhero ensemble “X-Men: Days of Future Past.” But under the direction of Patrick Hughes, much of the Expendables crew, with the notable exception of Stallone’s ever-present leader Barney Ross, end up disappointingly lost in the mix -- ask me to name anything Randy Couture or Dolph Lundgren do in the film and you will be met with a blank stare.

Still, cluttered though it may be, it’s a fun cast of faces fresh and familiar, and most of them give it their all in what limited screen-time they get. Snipes is the stand-out of the new recruits, his ex-Expendable Doctor Death rescued from imprisonment -- geddit? -- in the opening helicopter assault on a heavily guarded, armoured train. A loose cannon who likes to play with knives, he’s enjoyably nutty and intense, though after the opening 20 minutes he’s sadly given little to do. Banderas’ chatterbox mercenary Galgo is equal points lovably and loathsomely manic, with Banderas so springy and energetic he’s like an excited puppy in a woolly hat. And Kelsey Grammer lends dry humour as Bonaparte, who aids Barney in scouting new, younger members (among whom MMA fighter turned actress Ronda Rousey fares best, introduced as she kicks major ass while wearing a pair of stilettos).

But by far the highlight of the cast is Gibson, who’s at his dastardly best as Conrad Stonebanks, a thought-dead rogue Expendable turned ruthless arms dealer. Spotting him while on a mission, Barney embarks on a personal quest for vengeance against Stonebanks, who in turn vows to wipe out Barney and the rest of the Expendables. Gibson is delightfully smug and slimy, and he plays Stonebanks with a mad twinkle in his eye. He’s just hamming his way through the whole film: he’s a maniacal cackle or two away from sprouting horns from his forehead and growing a bright red, spade-tipped tail out of his backside -- though given his reputation as a person, it’s a surprise that hasn’t happened already.

As for the plot, it’s expectedly bare bones stuff, and it barely supports the overstretched 126-minute runtime. And the grand finale, a gigantic action set-piece which runs, leaps and explodes its way through an abandoned Russian complex, though it has its moments of fun, has far too much going on. But for the most part, this is enjoyable junk, with a likeable sense of humour about itself and a script made up almost entirely of banterous one-liners. For a brainless Friday-night diversion, it does the trick well enough, though Sly would do good to think about whittling down that cast for “The Expendables 4,” lest the pile finally topple over.

Rating: 6/10

Guardians of the Galaxy - Review

Director: James Gunn Writers: James Gunn, Nicole Perlman Studios: Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures Cast: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Vin Diesel, Bradley Cooper, Lee Pace, Michael Rooker, Karen Gillan, Djimon Hounsou, John C. Reilly, Glenn Close, Benicio del Toro Release Date (UK): August 1, 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 122 min

“Guardians of the Galaxy” is an exhilarating blast of pure sci-fi pulp, stuffed full of thrilling outer space mayhem, driven by a commitment to unabashed nuttiness, and topped off with a kick-ass retro mix-tape soundtrack guaranteed to put a big, stupid grin on Quentin Tarantino’s face. It’s been widely proclaimed that this was a big risk for Marvel Studios, and from the outset it’s easy to see why: among its main characters are a walking, talking tree and a gun-toting, anthropomorphic raccoon, its setting is a bunch of weird whatchamacallit, thingamabob alien planets somewhere, and it’s based on a nerd property hitherto known only to the most hardcore of basement dwellers. Hardly an easy sell for the average Jane or Joe Movie-Goer. Then again, halfway through watching director James Gunn’s action-crammed comic-book space opera, I did begin to wonder, how is a film this stupendously entertaining in any way a risk?

I mean, it’s weird: certainly the weirdest film in Marvel Studios' 6-year, 10-film history. And it’s the most “out there” project they’ve ever embarked upon: it does, after all, take place in the far reaches of the galaxy and it stars a bunch of funky looking extraterrestrials. But it’s *fun*. Like, really, really fun, with an infectious sense of excitement, humour and adventure akin to the original “Star Wars” and “Indiana Jones” trilogies. Our hero, Chris Pratt’s Peter Quill/Star Lord, is even introduced in his adult form as a sort of intergalactic Indiana Jones, shown thieving a mysterious spherical artifact from a ruined temple on a desolate alien terrain -- though it should be said, his roguish swagger and sarcastic tongue come straight from Han Solo. In the opening scene set in 1988, we watch as his younger self is plucked from Earth by a pirate spacecraft. 26 years later, he wanders the galaxy as a self-proclaimed legendary outlaw, stealing goods while his Walkman blares a mix-tape of ‘70s and ‘80s pop tunes.

He’s a misfit, and unashamedly so. And he’s just a flat-out fun character, with quips galore and Pratt nailing both the wise-ass routine and the action-man heroics. And yet, frequently the show is stolen from under his rocket-powered boots by his fellow Guardians, who are brought together in a high-security prison following a very public tussle. They’re your typical ragtag team of misfits, though to call this bunch typical would be to do them a great disservice. There’s Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista), a vengeance-seeking, muscle-bound maniac oblivious to his own social ineptness. His species take everything literally -- fling a halfhearted metaphorical quip at him and risk getting your spine ripped out. There’s slick, green-skinned assassin Gamora (Zoe Saldana), who betrays the bloodthirsty radical Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace) when his thirst for power becomes too much. There’s Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper), a genetically engineered, wise-cracking raccoon with an undying love of explosions and gun violence. And then there’s Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel), a humanoid tree whose vocabulary consists solely of three words: “I,” “am,” and “Groot,” and in that exact order. Anyone not especially into the film’s comic book shenanigans is bound to have their hearts won over by this walking, talking houseplant: he’s equal points adorably sweet and unstoppably deadly -- he’ll slaughter an army of badguys then turn around and flash you the goofiest, most lovable grin you’ve ever seen.

They join forces to defeat Ronan, who seeks the mysterious artifact stolen by Quill. See, that artifact, it turns out, contains an all-powerful orb called an Infinity Stone, which Ronan plans to use in a quest for vengeance against an entire populace. As an embodiment of heartless, power-hungry malevolence, Ronan works well; as a fully rounded character, he’s a little lacking, and Pace doesn’t quite have the gravitas to pull of such an underwritten character. Karen Gillan fares better as Nebula, the blue, mechanical equivalent to Gamora’s green assassin. Not just Ronan’s right-hand robot mercenary, she’s also Gamora’s jealous sister, and Gillan plays her with both sadistic glee and a deadly grace.

But it’s the Guardians who really shine here: they’re such an enjoyable collection of clashing personalities, and watching them butt heads and grow as a team is a real joy. Groot and Drax in particular are a joy: Bautista, a former pro wrestler with little acting experience, makes for a great comic relief, completely oblivious to his frequent insensitive remarks and social misunderstandings; and as he did as The Iron Giant, Diesel proves himself to have a knack for saying so much while saying so little. Gunn, meanwhile, infuses the film with style, energy and a nutty gusto, and handles the hectic outer space spectacle like a pro. The highlight, I would say, is the prison escape sequence, a stand-out set-piece full of thrills, laughs and gorgeous visual effects in a film absolutely bursting at the seams with all three of those. For sheer, unadulterated fun, the film gives “The Avengers” a run for its billion-dollar box office sum. “The Guardians of the Galaxy will return,” is displayed across the screen before the end credits roll. I for one await their return with eager anticipation.

Rating: 9/10